#and errors out my brain. i have to only think about one at a time
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eybefioro · 2 days ago
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HAPPY HOLIDAYS @ghostsparrow 💛💛💛
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The TNAN server hosted a secret santa, and Sparrow said he love pirates AUs and space AUs. I immediately thought about treasure planet, so here it is <3 thank you @captainblou for organising it!!!
Wacky races - fairly odd parents - powerpuff girls - scooby doo - adventure time - Cowardly dog - JJBA
(Time-lapse and ramblings under the cut)
Extra long Time-lapse this time as a THREAT.
I remember NOTHING about Treasure Planet's plot, but the ✨️Aesthetics✨️ are seared in my brain forever. I mean-
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HOW COOL IS THAT. I love this retrofuturistic(?) Style, the mix between robots and cyborgs and SPACE with uniforms and SHIPS. It's just soooooo good.
I didn't really followed 100% this Disney style, more the idea of it. I've been trying to find my footing and draw stuff without replicating each stylistic choice. Idk if I succeed or not but it was fun!
One thing about this is that even if it's not perceptible here, the perspective is a bit huh... different. I had to figure it out by trial and error, and this end up having 4 focal points.
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(Sorry this prob doesn't make that much sense but it was the only way for me to show it lol)
DO YOU SEE THOSE NICE RED AND GREY LINES?? I learned how to use rulers on ibispaint and NOW I AM UNSTOPPABLE. I know how to draw perspective by hand, on paper, but on my phone it was impossible. The screen is too small, and the precision too crappy since I don't have a proper pen. But now with this thing I can assure the line is straight and that direction is right, and now I can do nice perspectives hell yes!
This drawing I did of muriel and Eric is were I was testing stuff out. The rulers, the perspective, the not copying any style thing.
I'm not super satisfied with the end result of this perspective here, bc I wanted to make something more warped, more dynamic/stretched but I really don't know how to do that yet so simple perspective it is lol
This drawing was also supposed to accompany a fic, but it took me too long to do this, so I didn't had the time to write it. Maybe one day...
Now with details that I liked:
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STAR FRECKLES THAT FLOAT OVER CROWLEY'S FACE! Also he needs sunscreen. Have tou seen his thighs? LMAO
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The rendering g on Aziraphale’s clothes! Especially the trousers. I think this might be my best clothes that I painted so far. I'm getting better at this :D I was inspired by Aziraphale’s bastille and Edinburgh looks, + Mr Fell magician cape (and also the uniforms from treasure planet). I hope it looks OK in the end, I had too much fun mixing all this together lol
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Earth colonised by two opposing forces. I spent too long playing with this concept and how to draw it lol I hope it looks nice!
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woodfrogs · 4 months ago
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i hate texting and emails i am meant to live in the 1800s where communication is done face to face or takes 15 days by train to reach its recipient
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sealovinq · 9 months ago
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i need friends /gen (slight rant in tags)
#xelle.txt#i noticed i don't really have a permanent circle of friends. at least irl#i have one online but they're also busy and i just can't dedicate my time to one friend group#i don't know - it's just the people i thought who were nice turned out to be the exact opposite#and when i found out about that i just kinda. lost interest in making any more friends#my partner is the only person i interact with on a daily basis. the irl friend group i was referring to earlier i'm not exactly close with-#-them either#i feel like if i didn't only give my time in nurturing my romantic relationship i would have done the same for my platonics too#that's still a problem of mine. my time management between love life and friends. heck i even got myself into an unsolvable problem because-#-of my inability to stay consistent#also my brain is kinda fried from reading 20+ pages so pardon any grammatical errors but yeah anyway#honestly i've been craving for interaction here. but i know i won't be active and it'd just be pointless#to gain more friends or followers. i don't exactly make content as consistently as i did before#the other day i had to vent to an ai (would you believe me if it was cha.tgpt) about my troubles because i had no one else to talk to lol#there's just so much going on irl 😭 ya girl's almost starting college and they're throwing so much tasks at us!!#and i feel very very stressed about it because they're usually done in groups i am ALWAYS the assigned leader#which gets exhausting especially when there are lazy members present#anyway#hopefully this weekend i get some time to cool off. but next week i'm back to grinding and working#lol i don't even think i'm in the top ranks anymore. i'm so burnt out.#this is what being an academic achiever gives you oops ZZHSIAHAHAJAHHS#imma sleep now 😭#idk you can just interact with me or recommend someone you know who self ships in the same medias i do#goodnight everypony 🫶#vent tw#rant tw
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krysmcscience · 3 months ago
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At long last: either an alternate explanation for or continuation of my prior comic regarding how Bill was ABSOLUTELY naked in Ford's karaoke night drawing. (Because errors in art do not exist. Artists do not make mistakes. So if you see any in this comic, No You Do Not.)
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I am so normal about these old dorks.
I'm not really clear on exactly when Bill started throwing his desperation book at Ford just like a needy ex do, but I find it extremely funny to imagine it happening literally the day of or after the makeshift funeral. Bill just gets this weird sense of 'Ford is taking steps to move on' and CANNOT FUCKING ABIDE.
I hope you enjoy all the goofy things I added to each page of Bill's sad spieling. (Everything SHOULD be readable so long as you view the full size, but I have added basically this whole little fanfic in the image descriptions, LMAO, which lays out all the little written notes and such.) Also don't ask how Bill managed to sneak that vampire pen in there. I have no idea, and honestly? I don't wanna know.
Oh, and a little bonus comic:
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Of course Bill would take it as flirting. Because between the two of them, Bill is the bigger masochist By Far. :)
Also I have continued applying The Good Place logic to any of Bill's attempts to swear. Case in point, one last bonus image, this time with a motivational line from my slapdash Theraprism OC, EV-01:
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Yes, its name is just 'love' backwards. No, I will not be taking any feedback on this. Yes, EV-01 was only ever assigned to Bill's case due to the Theraprism being desperate to make some progress in rehabilitating him. No, it did not work anywhere close to staff's expectations - Bill didn't even appreciate EV-01's matching fondness for bowties! (He claimed the fondness to be "cultural appropriation" and insisted he'd been traumatized by it.)
Anyway, if you like my stuff, reblogs are very much appreciated, and if you really really like it, perhaps consider my commissions or yeeting a teeny tiny tip my way? I am trying to recoup over 500 dollars in vet bills, ahaha... 🙃
In other news, I loved all the fun tags people added to the prior naked-karaoke comic (such as 'the hat and bow-tie stay ON during sex' and the classic '[insert keysmash here]', as well as the many amused/bewildered remarks about how I either made the bricks a piece of clothing or just straight up peeled Bill's skin off). However, I think my favorite thing by far was the several people losing their shit over the fact that I gave Bill toes. Like, excuse me? The magical talking triangle can have fingers but not toes??? Since when was that a rule????? 🤣 (Also the one person who reblogged with the cropped panel where Bill's fishnets pants are falling off to ask why Bill peed himself. Dude, I want to examine your brain...?)
Okie-dokie, I'm sick of looking at all of this stuff now and I'm off to go to work, after which I will either scribble some more goofy "Billford" comics or perhaps draw my lame human!Bill in Situations, idk yet. Maybe I'll even finally draw more than just a single other person's human!Bill...? Who knows, but I sure hope I can mix it up a little and not turn whatever I draw into a month-long fukken project. >:\
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criminalminds4eva · 3 months ago
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secret polaroids - spencer reid
summary: secretly dating your coworker, when it all coomes to light due to a blurry polaroid
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
“wait, whos in the picture behind your phonecase?!”
doctor spencer reid, the genius with an eidetic memory, one of the fbi’s brightest minds, your coworker. who you’ve been secretly going out with for the last couple of months
it all happend over spilled coffee, you had been rushing over to the office, holding cups of coffee for the team working on a case out of town. as a new member of the team you wanted to make a good impression, hell maybe suck up to them a little.
so when you walk in the precint and spill the coffee all over your clothes, the work of a small town cop running into you, spencer offers to drive you to the hotel, to change into clean clothes.
“that was so embarrasing god what an idiot” you said covering your flushed face as spencer drove to the hotel
“the cop ran into you, besides you were doomed from the start carrying 8 cups of coffee in the same hand, and statistically speaking, it's actually quite common to spill coffee, especially when multitasking or under stress, the brain can only process a limited amount of information at once, which leads to small errors in motor control.” spencer looked over at you and chuckled
"you know it amazes me how much information you have stored up in your brain, i mean i know about the phd´s and everything but still its so amazing" you said looking over at him as he parked in front of the hotel, you can see his cheeks start to form a little red to them and naturally yours do too
and after that, a couple of weeks later full of small glances, smiles and of derek telling him how painfully obvious it was that he likes you and liked him. he asked you out
"you know people who share common interests and engage in meaningful conversation tend to form stronger connections and, well, i really enjoy talking with you, so i was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me sometime? i promise i won’t ramble about statistics the entire time" he said as he tried to hide the blush in his face so the rest of the team wouldnt know what the both of you were talking about in your desk
"spence, id love nothing more than to hear you ramble over dinner"
one dinner became two then three, then you found yourself kissing him goodnight as he dropped at the door to your apartment
he leans in slightly, hesitating for a brief moment, as if calculating the perfect timing and then gently kisses you
"i really enjoyed tonight" you said after the kiss "would you like to come in for a drink?"
he pauses for a moment, trying to think clearly then says "id love too"
after a while you both end up getting wine drunk in your apartment floor, which leads to the decision of your bringing out your polaroid camera
"come on spence smile for the camera" you laughed trying to get him to take his hands off his face but he wouldnt so you snap the picture anyway
"alright enough, your turn" he said taking the camera from your hands and taking a couple of pictures of you.
he wobbles a little setting his wine glass down in the counter, eyes half-focused but full of affection. "you know,ive been thinking, well, not just tonight, but, like a lot. you’re amazing and smart, and funny, and so beautiful and i think your definetly out of my league and if i were to kiss you then go to hell, i would. so then i could brag to the devils i saw heaven without entering" He fumbles over his words, blinking slowly, but his sincerity is clear. "maybe you could, um, be my girlfriend? statistically, we’re, uh, compatible, and I think we could you know be really happy together what do you say?" he offers a lopsided smile, clearly a bit nervous despite the alcohol.
his rambling takes you back "did you just quote shakespeare to me?" you chuckled as you leaned in to kiss him once more
"is that a yes i take it?" he said kissing you back
"yes doctor reid, i want to be your girlfriend" his eyes wide open to your response, and for a moment hes speechless, he laughs nervously rubbing the back of his neck and grabs the camera once more
"come on we are taking our first official dating picture" he smiles shyly but brightly taking a blurry polaroid of the two of you in front of the mirror
the two of you knew it was better to keep the relationship private, spencer's face flushed when you mentioned the thought of how derek would tease him, or how he wouldnt hear the end of it from garcia being all happy for the both of you. knowing they wouldnt do it to harm either of you but since this was quite new and being coworkers, you decided to keep it private but not a secret. the team knew spencer was seeing someone, emily said his face seemed brighter and suddenly he couldnt stay overtime to finish the files jj had sneeked him in his desk. and they knew you were seeing someone too since garcia said she caught you smiling while you were texting, they hoped you guys were seeing each other but since neither of you ever mentioned the date or maybe it was the fact that you really were able to mantain a professional front while working, they hadnt been able to fully catch on that you were dating spencer
that was until you decided to put the blurry polaroid of the night he asked you to be his girlfriend behind your phone case
"wait who's in the picture behind your phone case?" penelope squealed with exciment catching the attention of the rest of the team
"is that your boyfriend y/n, do i officially have no chance with you" chuckled derek leaning against your desk as you nervously took your phone from garcia
"oh come on now she will tell us when she wants too" emily approached then took your phone from your hands "besides you cant really tell who it is in the picture" as she looked at the picture trying to figure it out despite your efforts to take the phone from her hands.
derek stood beside her also looking at the picture "hey but doesnt it kind of look like.."
"morning what are we looking at" spencer appeared at your desk, his face blushing when he saw the picture emily and derek were looking at, they looked at spencer, then looked at you burying your face in your hands
"oh my god, no way really?!?" garcia said with a bright smile "doctor love oh my god i cant belive it" she said hugging spencer
"so i guess the cat is out of the bag huh?" you said looking at spencer
"you owe me 20 bucks i told you they were dating" emily said playfully punching derek in the shoulder
"wait you guys had bets on this" spencer said laughing nervously letting go of the hug with garcia
"well pretty boy we didnt actually think you would even ask her out how long has this been going on for" said morgan looking playfully hurt "baby girl let them breathe" he said pulling garcia from you
"a couple of months" you mentioned letting go of the hug with a cheesy smile
"alright, we have a case" said rossi joining the team by your desk. the team grins weider as they notice spencer blushing as he stands next to you "were really happy, for the both of you" said derek as they started to walk away. you get up from your desk following the team and squeeze your boyfriends hand, a signal that all was well
"did you really think we wouldnt figure it out?" rossi raised his eyebrows as he looked at spencer watching walk away while the team playfully teased you "im happy for you kid" rossi patted him on the back
spencer shakes his head with a half-laugh trying to hide the blush in his face as they joined everyone.
⋆。°✩
a/n: feedback would be super appreciated, i hoped you enjoyed reading <33
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demonic0angel · 1 month ago
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Dead Silent. One of the batfam ask Danny why he’s more clingy than his siblings and Danny just goes “huh??” Cuz he’s probably the LEAST clingy. Dan is Yandere Levels of clingy, Jazz is Ride or Die clingy, Dani is probably Stalker clingy, and don’t even get him started on their parents.
Danny, by comparison, is the normal one and I feel like that should be appreciated so much more.
(This is SO freaking funny and you're so right omg. It got long bc I got excited again lmaooo)
"You... you think I'm... clingy?!" Danny cried in shock, looking around for a camera. Were they serious? Was this actually real?
Duke said with a shrug, "Well... I mean, I always see you around Cass. We're just asking."
"I am literally the least clingy and the most normal out of my siblings."
Jason snorted from where he stood behind Tim's chair. Everyone was listening in but only Damian and Duke had the graciousness to not pretend that they weren't. Even Cass was staring, blinking as she was held in Danny's arms for a cuddle after the patrol.
"Oh yeah? Prove it."
Danny glared at him and pointed to his shadow, which stretched out beneath him from the Batcave's lights.
"One, the only reason she doesn't follow you around everywhere is because Jazz literally has Shadow following you whenever you go out." As he said this, two eyes blinked from within Jason's shadow and then disappeared just as quickly. "Two, she had all of your medical information on a file in her phone! And just information on you, period! Three, just yesterday, she blew up two ships and took down a trafficking ring by herself because she got reports that they put a hit on you! And don't even talk about how normal she is compared to me, because she definitely isn't! You just think she's a normal amount of clingy because the both of you have your brains rotted from romance novels!"
Jason made a face. It was one of great affront, grudging acceptance, and a wistful adoration. Danny couldn't even feel smug for proving him right because the look on his face was just disgusting.
Cass giggled from within his arms.
Dick opened his mouth and Danny pointed at him aggressively, clutching at Cass as he said, "You can't speak either! Dan is literally the most clingy out of all of us! You know what Jazz said?! He literally has abandonment issues and codependency!! Y'know what his name was before we came here?! It's "World Destroyer"! The only reason he hasn't done anything is because he really likes you and wants to spend most of his time watching you and keeping you safe instead of going around and causing destruction!"
Dick blinked. "But he also—"
"Wrong! He uses clones to do stuff while he keeps watch over you, and you're the only reason he has a moral code at all."
Dick made a considering face and then he smiled. "Aww, that's kinda cute. I didn't know he was so clingy."
Danny muttered to Cass, "Are you seeing this bullshit?"
She giggled again and patted at his arms that were wrapped around her neck.
Duke nodded, amusement on his face. "I see your point. But what about Dani? You're definitely clingier than her."
Danny made an error noise. "Nope! The entire Young Justice is codependent and clingy, so it just looks normal. And Dani just follows around Kon and Tim in intervals so you can't see either of them." He also grimaced at Tim, who was still working at the computer. "And Tim is already watching them, aren't you? You three are a bunch of freaks."
Tim looked up with a small smirk, much to Damian's audible disgust. "You got me there. I keep trackers and cameras on all of them. And Dani's usually just invisible."
Danny smiled triumphantly. "Hah! See? I'm the least clingy!"
There were murmurs of agreement and then Duke said, "I don't know, I think all four of you are clingy and weird."
Danny sulked. "No I'm not."
Duke gestured to all of him. "You're literally climbing Cass like a koala."
Okay, so his legs were wrapped around her waist and he was hanging onto her like a sticker, but so what? She didn't mind!
Cass snickered and said, "It's okay. He's light."
"Yeah, I'm light," grumbled Danny as he squeezed her.
Duke and Damian shared a look, as Duke said, "We should get out of here. Thank god these freaks are taken."
"Agreed. Thank goodness we are the most normal."
Now there were cries of outrage throughout the entire cave all over again.
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xxsabitoxx · 1 year ago
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Roommates
Roommate Sanemi x AFAB Reader
Disclaimer: the characters and events of this story are fictional.
Warnings: Listening to someone else have sex, protected sex, male masturbation using a condom, tipsy making out, making out in a car, hand job, road head, making out in an elevator, dirty talk, hickeys, breast sucking, Sanemi has a tongue piercing, cunnilingus with a tongue piercing, blow jobs, finger fucking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, multiple sex positions, multiple creampies, praising, spanking, biting, spitting, spit as lube, cum as lube
A/N: My confession is that I came up with this idea mid-April and it's taken me this long to get it all out. Given the fact that this is easily my longest fic, I hope you can forgive me for such a long wait. Also I apologize but this isn’t proof-read because my brain simply cannot handle proof reading a fic this long so please forgive me for any small errors that may pop up :’)
Word Count: 26.3k
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Your junior year of college you decided to switch from dorm life to off-campus apartments. You were sick of having a twin XL bed, an unbearable roommate, and no personal space. As luck would have it, you found the perfect two-bedroom apartment that was just out of your budget. Considering it was two bedrooms, it only made sense to put out a notice looking for a roommate. Especially when it would cut the cost of living since you’d split the rent with them. Naturally, it made the situation even better because you’d be saving money. After several responses and a couple meet ups, you ended up encountering a man double majoring in Math and Teaching. Rough and mean looking on the outside but honestly a sweetheart, Sanemi Shinazugawa was the perfect fit for a multitude of reasons. For one, it was nerve wracking living alone as a young woman. Having a tall, buff, scar covered man as your roommate really deterred most creeps. 
The other main reason, he was a great cook. Most mornings you’d wake up to coffee brewing and food on the counter for the both of you. He was pleasant, respectful, cleaned up after himself, and was pretty easy to hold a conversation with. He was also a bit of a softie, telling you about his mom and siblings and how he happened to be the oldest of seven. It made sense why he seemed to be such a patient man, and why he wanted to be a teacher. Most nights you’d share the living room to study, occasionally eat dinner together, or share a few drinks. Your friend groups remained separate, which meant the few times you weren’t clogged up with school work, you’d go partying at different places and somehow always end up stumbling home at the same time. You enjoyed those drunken giggles as you raced for the bathroom before heading off to bed. You also looked forward to the conversations the morning after, when you would tell him all about the things that happened, including gossip about people he didn’t even know. 
Moments like that really tugged at your heart. It was nearly impossible for you to not gain feelings for the man. He was handsome, intimidating but kind when you got to know him and, well, he really was a great cook. You haven’t acted on your feelings, honestly, you didn’t think you ever would. You didn’t want to risk the good thing you had going, finding a new roommate would be hell if everything went south. Plus you would have to pay rent you couldn’t afford until you could put someone else in his place. None of it was ideal so, you kept quiet, watching him from a short distance and fantasizing what it would be like if he threw you up on the counter and fucked you stupid. Yeah, you were way too deep now. It didn’t help that Sanemi was confident and comfortable in his body, often walking around the small place shirtless. He even liked to wear baggy gray sweats that would hang low on his hips while he cooked. Something you found extremely cliché but still hot. Even when he went out, he only had a few buttons done, his scarred chest exposed for everyone to see. 
Speaking of going out, tonight would have been a great night for it, but after midterms, you were too exhausted to celebrate. Your friends agreed to go out tomorrow night instead, so now you are spending your Friday night in bed with a new tv show on your laptop and a glass of white wine. Sanemi had told you he was going out, so don’t be alarmed if the door to the apartment opens in the middle of the night. You let your mind wander a few times, thinking about the girls that were likely throwing themselves at him. You weren’t used to feeling FOMO, but you were certainly feeling it now. Just the thought alone of some girl having the confidence to talk to him made your skin crawl. But at the same time, you figured it was utterly inevitable, he wasn’t yours to begin with so you had no right to feel envious. But at the same time, you couldn’t help but wish you had pulled yourself together and asked to tag along. But that didn’t feel right either… you felt like that was involving yourself in his life way too much. You were just roommates. 
“Just roommates…” you mumbled to yourself before taking a sip of your wine, enjoying the slightly bitter taste before swallowing. You had done everything imaginable while having the place to yourself. You took your shower with no time limit, did a face mask and skin routine, and even did your nails. You had also taken the time to enjoy yourself in ways you typically had to mute when he was home. Needless to say, despite your unwanted envious thoughts, you were rather relaxed. Now, however,  it was nearly three in the morning and Sanemi still wasn’t home. I should just go to bed. But there are only a couple sips left in the bottle… and only ten minutes left in this episode… you sighed, reaching over to your nightstand to pour the rest of the wine bottle’s contents into your cup. You settled back against your numerous pillows, refocusing your attention on your laptop screen. The scene was unfolding before you but your mind was wandering to other places. He’s been out for a long time… maybe I should text him…
You shook your head, you were in no position to be questioning his whereabouts. You were thankful your phone was sitting on your nightstand, giving you time to think and talk yourself out of any stupid texts you may have sent. You zeroed in again, this time actually holding on to the words the actors were speaking. You tilted back, downing the last bit of your glass before successfully finishing the bottle. You felt it now, your cheeks had been steadily warm over the course of the last few hours. You had taken forever to finish the bottle so your buzz never really went further, leaving you in a calm state until it began to wear off. Which is when you would pour another glass and try to forget about any unwanted thoughts. As the episode’s credits began to roll, you moved to grab the empty bottle on your nightstand and bring it out to the kitchen. As you moved to stand, you heard the familiar jingle of keys slotting into the front door. 
About time, I was getting worried. You would have to wait for Sanemi to get himself situated and in his bedroom before bringing the empty bottle out, finding it just a bit embarrassing that you spent your Friday night alone in bed. You set the glass on your nightstand beside the bottle, getting up to stretch your limbs and find something more comfortable to wear to bed. Your current outfit was too warm for the wine buzz you had going on. Finally, after a moment of struggle, the front door opened. He must have had a bit too much to drink. Or so you assumed, busying yourself in your dresser as you searched for a particular matching tank top and shorts. It wasn’t until you heard a lot of fumbling that you refocused your attention on whatever your drunk roommate was doing in the living room. What the fuck is going on? 
You questioned if you should go out there and see if he was alright, pausing your rummaging to really listen in. It wasn’t until the commotion grew closer to your door that you realized two very important things. The first thing was… he wasn’t alone. The second is… It was a girl. No fucking way… Your face felt as if someone had lit it on fire, the shock mixing with your buzz was enough to make you feel like you needed a cold shower. Clothes forgotten, you moved over to your door, pressing your ear against it to hear better. The fumbling you had heard seemed to be because she couldn’t keep his hands off of him. I can’t say I blame her… No real words were being spoken, rather it seemed like you were listening in on an intense make-out session paired with clothes being discarded in the hallway. Must be nice, what a lucky bitch.
You moved away from the door, guilt prickling the back of your mind as you tried to go back to your original task. I’ll change and put earbuds in… the wine bottle can wait till morning to be discarded. You jumped slightly as Sanemi’s room door flew open. They’re going to kill each other… or worse damage the damn apartment. My security deposit… you audibly whined at the thought, not feeling quite accomplished as you found the clothes you had been looking for. You began to strip, shamelessly listening in on whatever activity was happening beyond your bedroom wall. From the muffled sounds, you assumed they were making out on his bed. You felt relief in the lighter clothing, not as suffocated by your body heat. However, it did nothing to stop the tingling arousal building in your gut. You swallowed, discarding the other clothing in your hamper as you moved to clear off your bed. 
Something was keeping you from putting in your earbuds. The logical part of your brain was screaming to give Sanemi and the girl some privacy. The horny part of your brain was telling you to listen, see just how good he was in bed. How filthy… despite scolding yourself, you threw yourself down on your bed without your earbuds in. Nothing but silence rang in your ears, saved for the muffled noises next door. With nothing else to distract you, you focused on every noise coming from Sanemi’s bedroom. It seemed like an eternity but you finally heard the girl begin to moan. “You’re so good at that…fuck…” she drawled, when Sanemi didn’t respond, you assumed it was because his head was between her legs. Just rub it in a little more… you rolled your eyes, suddenly annoyed that you were even listening in the first place. 
The girl’s moans grew in tempo, muffled suddenly, likely by a hand over her mouth. You could tell by the sound of them that they weren’t fake nor were they being exaggerated. Christ he’s really making her moan like that… you felt a steady ache growing between your legs, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything about it. I refuse to stoop that low… you’d never let yourself live it down if you got off to your roommate fucking someone else. “S-shit!” you flinched as she came, your suspicions of Sanemi’s head being between her legs was proven correct a moment later. “Fucking liked that, huh?” she mumbled a response you couldn’t hear, her voice muffled as they seemed to begin making out again. You eyed your earbuds, you knew what was coming next and quite frankly you weren’t sure if you would survive hearing it. 
There was a few minutes of unintelligible noises, you couldn’t quite tell what the hell was going on until you heard a slap. That slap was followed by another, then another, until it fell into a steady rhythm. God damn. You nearly choked on your own spit as she began moaning again. You continued to listen, cheeks burning red hot when you heard Sanemi begin to make noises too. You listened, hands clenching your comforter as you listened to the sounds they made. This is so wrong! You screamed at yourself, still entranced by every noise the two of them made. At the rate he was going, it sounded as if he’d break his damn bed. Her moans were wild and unrestrained until they suddenly grew muffled. “I told you I have a roommate, wake her up and I’ll kick you out before you can finish” Sanemi’s words held deadly consequences, enough to make you shiver at the very thought of him speaking to you like that. 
Her moans remained muffled, it seems she was too far gone to even comprehend what Sanemi was saying to her. So you continued to lay there in agonizing anticipation, counting down the seconds until they finished and she either went to bed or went home. The sound of skin slapping skin only grew in tempo, much to your dismay. It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it? You groaned, rolling onto your stomach as the sounds of sex filled your apartment. For what it was worth, it was probably ten minutes before you heard Sanemi’s thrusts get sloppy. I figured he’d have some stamina. You snort softly, feeling a little desensitized to the whole situation. “Fuck… fuck…” you nearly squealed at his pants, he sounded completely fucked out. Hot. You listened more intently, his hand must have slipped from her face because she was moaning loudly once more. “C’mon…fucking cum… please…” she sounded desperate. 
Can’t say I blame her. You sighed, your mind painting the lewd picture for you. The throb between your legs was still present but you were refusing to do anything about it. “Fuck…you’re so fucking tight.” You flinched a bit, that comment seemed so unusual when you weren’t horny out of your mind. “Yeah? Makes you fucking wanna cum, huh?” You weren’t sure why, but the commentary was making you laugh a bit. I must be losing my mind, or I’m sleep deprived. You concluded as Sanemi’s sudden moan sent a shiver through your body. “Fuck…fuck I’m close.” He grounded out, your body feeling tingly as you pushed yourself upwards to listen better. “Yeah? Come then, please oh my fuck…” she drawled, loud and breathless. They sounded like they were running a marathon. You’re going to wake the whole building at this point. 
“Fuck… fuck y/n…” you froze, sitting straight up in bed with wide eyes. It took your brain a second to catch up, realizing that all noise in the apartment had come to a screeching halt. “Y/n… who the fuck is y/n?” The girl practically shrieked. You couldn’t even think straight, the silence making your ears ring as their “moment” was clearly ruined. Sanemi hadn’t said a single word, yet the girl screeched again. “Don’t tell me that’s your girlfriend? Oh my fucking god are you cheating?” She continued to scream until Sanemi’s hand came up and covered her mouth. Whatever he said was too quiet for you to hear, but the girl helped you out. “Your roommate? Your fucking roommate? You’re  fucking me while thinking about your roommate?” She sounded absolutely hysterical, you couldn’t say you blamed her though. 
“It was an accident!” He sounded defensive, which you also couldn’t blame him for. You’d be mortified if you moaned the wrong name… but you couldn’t help but chuckle at the fact that it had been your name. “Bull shit! This is so fucking humiliating!” You could hear shuffling, then his door opening. “Don’t ever fucking talk to me again, oh my fucking god.” She sounded livid, the ruffling sound told you she was picking up her clothes that had been scattered. “I’m sorry…” he sounded a bit defeated, likely because he hadn’t gotten the chance to finish. “What fucking ever dude! Go blow your load in your roommate since that’s clearly what you fucking wanted!” You cringed as the bathroom door slammed shut, followed by a string of curses under Sanemi’s breath. That's awkward… yet you couldn’t wipe the smirk off your face. 
You flopped back on your bed, struggling not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation. He was thinking about me? While fucking her? I don’t know if I should be smug or offended. You were leaning more towards being smug. “Hey…” the bathroom door opened and Sanemi spoke again, you stopped smiling and listened. “Hey nothing, dickhead. Way to kill my fucking buzz and my orgasm. If you want to fuck your roommate so bad, grow a pair and fucking do it.” She sounded livid still, completely embarrassed that she had been used as a replacement. “I told you to keep it fucking down!” His voice was a whisper yell, you could practically hear her eye roll as she spoke again. “Fuck off.” Followed by her storming out of the apartment and slamming the door so hard the place rattled. “Fuck.” Sanemi sounded utterly defeated. 
Well… that was more than enough entertainment for tonight. You sighed, rolling onto your side, sleep tugging at your mind. You’d sleep peacefully knowing what you did now. You could only imagine how the conversation would go in the morning. Sanemi, on the other hand, was fuming at his own stupidity. “Way to go dumbass.” First girl he’d ever brought back to his “new place” and he royally fucked it up. He glanced down at himself, shame flooding his cheeks. He was still hard, the condom slick with the woman’s arousal. “Fuck.” He hissed again, moving to pick up the rest of his clothing before reentering his bedroom. There was no way he was going to sleep before dealing with the issue at hand. So, detested and embarrassed, he sat on the edge of his bed and worked himself with his own hand, hissing as he spilled into the condom. “What a fucking loser you are, Sanemi.” He spoke to himself, peeling the protection off and tossing it in the trash can beside his night table. 
The next morning you woke up with a dull headache. “Ouch.” You mumbled, making eye contact with the empty wine bottle on your bedside table. Within seconds, the memories of the night flooded your brain, a dopey grin tugging at your face as you rolled out of bed. You grabbed the wine bottle, pushing your room door open and slinking down the hallway towards the kitchen. It took you a second to realize Sanemi was already awake. “Oh.” you laughed a bit, watching as his head whipped around to look at you. “I didn’t expect to see you home.” You tease as you place the empty wine bottle on the counter. “Why is that?” You could tell he was hesitant, he didn’t know if you had heard anything that had transpired only a few hours prior. You shrug, eyeing his bare torso for a moment before opening the cabinet to find the pain relievers. “You were still out by the time I went to bed.” 
You were focused on getting a glass of water, the pill bottle in your hand. You didn’t see the way his eyes trailed over your body, his mouth feeling dry as he looked at you. “Yeah, I got in pretty late.” Sanemi murmured softly, focusing his eyes away from you to look at the coffee he was brewing. You hummed, shaking two pills into your hand. “Seems you had fun during your night home.” He teased you, eyeing the empty wine bottle. “Oh yeah, a blast.” you chuckled, tone sarcastic as you took the pain relievers for your headache. “I’m shocked you didn’t bring anyone home.” You suppressed a smirk, placing your cup in the sink as you turned to face him. “You’re such a pervert.” He laughed, hoping it hid the awkward tension creeping into his shoulders. “Me? A pervert? You wound me.” You faked a look of hurt, unable to keep up with it and cracking only a second later. “Yeah, you.” He countered back. 
“Since you’re dancing around the question, I’m gonna assume you got lucky.” You watched his ears turn a shade of red, eyes immediately darting from yours. “Oh? What’s that?” You snort, watching him toy with his coffee mug. “I wouldn't say I got lucky.” You raised an eyebrow, “bad experience?” You tried to sound sympathetic, as if you didn’t hear the whole thing go south. Sanemi nodded, pulling the carafe from the machine and dumping a generous amount of the black liquid in his cup. “Horrible.” Was all he said, moving to the fridge to grab cream. “Was she not good? Or was it something else?” You continued to pry, wondering how far you could push it until he caught onto you. “Eh, we just didn’t have chemistry.” He lied through his teeth, it seemed he wasn’t interested in learning if you knew or not. “That blows” was all you could come up with, turning to grab a mug out of the cabinet yourself.
“You know, my friends and I were going to go out tonight to celebrate midterms being over. You could always join, maybe find someone else to suit your needs.” You were being genuine, eyes focusing on the coffee you were pouring. Sanemi looked at you, glancing you over with a small sigh. “I appreciate it, but I don’t think that will help.” You merely shrugged, “if you change your mind you can let me know. I mean it’s only seven in the morning.” You chuckle, taking a seat at the small dining table with him. You both sat in silence for a bit, but you could tell there was something he wanted to ask. You knew what was clawing at the back of his mind but you chose to wait and see if he’d ask it first. “You’re telling me you didn’t hear us?” He nearly choked out, the grip on his coffee cup was nearly enough to shatter it. “Hear you?” You questioned softly, looking at him from over your coffee mug. 
“Yeah, I brought her back here… it didn’t end well and she wasn’t exactly quiet about it.” You were going to deny it but the vulnerability in his eyes had your shoulders sagging. “Fine, I didn’t want to make it awkward for you, but yeah I heard her leave. The apartment door slamming shut, I mean.” It was partially the truth, but you didn’t think you could ever let him know you heard him moan your name instead of hers. When he didn’t speak, you continued. “I kinda just figured it was your drunk ass stumbling home.” You chuckled softly, hoping to ease the tension that had been steadily growing. “And you didn’t come and check on me? How rude.” There he was, laughing softly and being a smart ass. Crisis averted for the time being it seems. “Eh I figured if you could make it into the apartment, you’d be able to get to your bed.” You laugh with him, setting your mug down. “My offer still stands, Sanemi. So just let me know.” 
You get up from the table, picking up your mug and heading to the kitchen. “I’ll think about it.” He mumbled softly, eyes glued to the expanse of skin you were showing. The shorts you were wearing could be classified as underwear, he felt his ears grow hot when he zeroed in on your ass peeking out from the bottom of them. You whirled around, beaming at him. He seemed a bit surprised, lips parting slightly as you smiled at him. “No pressure, but I’d love it if you came out with us.” You surprised yourself with how sincere you sounded, not that you weren’t serious about him joining you. Sanemi just nodded, still awestruck by your reaction. You turned and left, a smile plastered to your face as you returned to your bedroom. Sanemi sat at the table, mildly shocked that he had agreed to even think about it. But the way you looked at him… it had absolutely dumbfounded him into saying whatever would make you happy. “Fuck…” he muttered softly, hand coming up to rub his face. 
It wouldn’t be the end of the world. He thought quietly, the only issue with going out with you and your friends was the fact that you’d probably try and set him up with one of them. I’m not interested in any of her friends, I’m interested in her. He groaned, using one hand to rub his forehead. He couldn’t say no to you now, not when you smiled at him like that, not when you told him you’d love for him to join you. Suck it up, Sanemi. He grumbled to himself, there was no way he was going to disappoint you. Alone at the table, his mind wandered back to the events from a few hours ago. The girl he had brought home looked like you to an extent. Same hair color, same length, similar body type. He was cringing at his drunken, horny decision, he should have just left her alone. Especially when all he could think about was you, even when he was fucking her, all he was thinking about was you. 
Sanemi huffed, staring at the cloudy amber liquid in his cup. He was typically a black coffee guy, but you bought fancy creamers that he couldn’t resist. Now he took his coffee with a healthy amount of cream. Fuck I can’t even look at my coffee without thinking about her. He held in a laugh, amazed by how quickly you were taking over his mind. It’s not like it was the first time either, hell he wasn’t even sure when he started harboring feelings for you. Maybe it was at some point during one of the rainy weekends, the ones where you two would spend hours in the living room and order some food. Or maybe it was during one of your drunken races to the bathroom, laughing like kids doing something they shouldn’t. Perhaps it was the first time he saw you in a cocktail dress to go out with your friends, or the way you tucked your hair away when you needed to focus. Or, maybe, just maybe, he started falling for you the moment he met you. How fucking cheesy. But it was the honest truth. 
Sanemi sighed, it was too early in the morning to let you consume his every waking thought. Part of him figured he should just take a shower and go to bed again, it was Saturday after all. But the other part of him knew you’d still consume his thoughts, even his dreams if he let you. Eventually, he finished his cup and made his way to the bathroom. He needed to scrub her off of him, forget about the terrible interaction and maybe take her advice… grow a pair and act upon how he feels about you. Tonight may be the night to do it. He thought to himself, turning on the water and letting it fog up the glass. He couldn’t keep dancing around his feelings for you, especially since they were far more than just lusting after you. He wanted you to share his bed, fuck the separate rooms. He could turn your room into an office or something, anything to keep you by his side. You’re practically fucking love sick at this point. 
The rest of the day went by in a blur. A few hours before you were set to leave and meet up with your friends, Sanemi let you know that he would be joining you. Now, you sat in front of the mirror on your dresser and did your makeup, the dress you wanted to wear laid on your bed. It was brand new, never worn except the time you tried it on in store. It was a simple black cocktail dress that ended at your mid-thigh. It was pretty typical for going out but you really felt no need to stick out, so simple was usually your go-to. You finished applying mascara and smiled at your work. Again, you were also going out to get drunk so the less makeup you put on meant the less you’d have to clean up at the end of the night. “Eyeliner, mascara, a little bit of concealer and… oh!” You reached for your lip stain, applying a generous coat to your lips before setting it down. While it dried, you went and pulled your heels from your closet and set them by the foot of your bed. 
You undressed, slipping into your dress and then sliding on your heels. Once completed, you returned to your dresser and dabbed your lips with a tissue, reaching for a gloss to apply on top. “This is a lot of effort for something that won’t even last me an hour” you chuckled as you twisted the top back on the tube of lip gloss, placing it on your dresser and reaching for your phone. Your screen lit up with messages from your group chat, it seemed everyone was already on their way to the club you had decided on. You sent a message letting them know that you and Sanemi would be there probably twenty minutes after them. After a moment a new chat popped up, causing you to laugh out loud. “So if you aren’t here in twenty, you’re getting laid. Gotcha.” You sent back the eye roll emoji before clicking your phone off and shoving it in your purse. “Sanemi? You ready?” You pushed your room door, peeking down the hall to see he was already sitting at the kitchen table. 
“Been ready for twenty…minutes…” he trailed off when you made your way down the hall, the teasing smirk on his face had shifted to one of mild shock. “What? Do I have something in my hair?” You laughed softly, twirling around as if you were pretending to look for something you couldn’t see. “No! No…I uhm…” he stood, hand going to the back of his neck. “No you, you look really good.” The tips of his ears were turning pink, a smirk tugging at your own lips at the sight. “Thank you, you clean up pretty good yourself.” You were a bit shameless as your eyes trialed over him. Sanemi had gone with his typical look. A short sleeve button up, this time made it a silky black material, the top buttons undone to expose his scared chest. He paid it with a pair of black slacks, a monochrome look that contrasted well with his partially slicked back white hair. “Thanks…” he muttered softly, ears turning from pink to red. 
You smile, not wanting to make things awkward for him before you even leave the apartment. “Do you want me to drive?” You were reaching for your keys, jumping slightly when Sanemi’s hand stopped you. “Absolutely not, I’ll drive.” He reached for his own car keys instead, chuckling as you looked confused. “When you’re out with me, you don’t have to worry about anything.” He opened the door for you, “unless you wanna drive.” You smiled as he added that on, shaking your head. “No, I don’t mind if you drive, I appreciate it.” You walked past him and into the hall, trying to hide the fact that you were excited for him to drive you both. You watched him lock the door before heading for the elevator, it was silent until you got to the car, but it was comfortable silence. “Ladies first.” He chuckled softly, pulling the passenger side door open for you. “Oh, why thank you.” You laughed, getting in and smiling as he shut the door for you. What a gentleman. You smiled at the thought. 
“Alright so…” he spoke as he climbed in the drivers side, turning the key so the engine purred with life. “You’ll have to give me directions on how to get there.” He glanced over at you, eyes trailing to your exposed legs before reaching for the gear shift. “Yeah no problem.” You smiled “when we get out of the garage you’ll take a left. Then you’ll get on the highway heading north and I’ll just tell you what exit to take from there.” Sanemi nodded, pulling the car into reverse and backing out of his space. “Sounds good to me.” Music was playing softly from his radio, just enough to fill the car with ambience. “It’ll just be the two of us, three of my friends and then I think one of their boyfriends is also joining. But to be fair, after thirty minutes everyone kinda scatters on the dance floor.” You chuckle a bit. “Usually they drag me with them to find guys to dance with… but since I have you…” you shot him a look, letting those words hang in the air for a moment “I don’t have to worry about them dragging me anywhere.” You smiled, noticing the way his cheeks tinged pink. 
“That’s a relief.” He muttered softly, a smile tugging at his lips while his eyes remained focused on the road. “I won’t be drinking all that much either.” He spoke softly “Since I’m carrying precious cargo, I’ll probably only have a beer or two. My tolerance is pretty high and I nearly got shit faced last night so… I’ll take it easy.” Sanemi chuckled softly, one hand resting on the wheel while the other relaxed against the center console. “Precious cargo, huh? Me? I’m flattered.” You relaxed into the seat, turning to look at Sanemi with a small laugh. “Yeah, you.” He didn’t seem flustered to say that, the smirk on his face making you blush. Your eyes lingered for a moment, watching his tongue dart out to lick his lips. That’s when you noticed something reflective. “Hold the fuck on… is that…” Sanemi glanced over at you, chuckling. “A tongue piercing? You just noticed it? I’ve had it since I moved in with you.” You looked completely flabbergasted, your whole body turning to look at him. 
“No fucking way! Sanemi Shinazugawa you’re lying.” You folded your arms, laughing at the absurdity of it, hoping it hid how excited it made you. Sanemi laughed now, wholeheartedly as he took the exit to get on the highway. “I’m not lying! I got it when I turned nineteen and I’m twenty one now. We’ve been living together for three months and you’ve never noticed I had a tongue piercing?” You were absolutely floored by this revelation. “Never! Then again I’m not usually observing your mouth.” It came out more cheeky than sarcastic, which in turn caused your face to turn warm. “Oh?” His voice seemed to drop an octave. “So you’re observing other parts of me, Hmm?” He was smirking now, eyes glued to the road while you stared at him open mouthed. “Oh you wish!” You laughed, settling back into the seat normally with your arms still crossed. “Sure I do.” His voice was laced with sarcasm, his fingers drummed along to the beat of the music coming from his radio. 
A comfortable silence fell over the car, the club itself was only a twenty minute drive so it wasn’t long before Sanemi was pulling into the already crowded parking lot. “How come I’ve never heard of this place?” Sanemi’s eyes were wide as he observed the people entering the building. “It’s pretty new.” You comment softly, texting your friends that you had arrived and would be inside in a few minutes. “That so?” He shut the car off, turning to look at you. “Yeah, which is a good thing because that means it’s all new shit.” You chuckled, you could recall a few bars and clubs you had gone to in the past that were… questionable to say the least. “I suppose you’re right.” He laughs softly, opening the door to get out. You follow suit, stepping into the cool evening with a sigh of relief. The world around you seemed to buzz with excitement, the pounding music could be heard from the parking lot. As you rounded the car, you noticed Sanemi seemed just a bit overwhelmed. 
“Is this your first time at a club?” You couldn’t help but smile at him. “Sorta? I’m used to bars honestly. I’ve only been to a club like two or three times and they definitely weren’t this… busy.” Seeing the opportunity, you moved forward and hooked your arm with his. “Well then, we’ll just have to make sure you stick close to me, yeah?” Sanemi’s brain short circuited for a moment, nodded as he let you lead him towards the building. He wasn’t quite sure what had rendered him speechless, the words you had spoken, the way you smiled at him, or maybe it was the fact that you were touching him. Better yet, it was likely all of the above. His eyes were glued to you as you walked with him, the angle giving him a perfect view of the swell of your chest. He swallowed, even though his shirt was unbuttoned he still felt suffocated. Sanemi was pulled from his thoughts as you happily waved to your friends. “We figured we’d wait for you since it’s pretty crazy already!” 
Sanemi barely listened, smiling and saying hello when you introduced him. It didn’t really matter to him anymore, not when you were so close to him. All he could think about was you. The feeling of your arm on his, the smell of your perfume, how good you looked. How was he supposed to do anything else when you had him so tightly wrapped around your finger. The thought nearly scared him. He was quiet as you all walked to get in line, his eyes remained glued to you as you chatted excitedly with your three friends and whoever’s boyfriend. You had told him, but he already forgot. “Sanemi?” You glanced up at him, watching as he blinked back into reality. “Huh? Were you talking to me?” You chuckled, noticing your friends smirk as they turned to move up in line. “No, but you were spacing out really bad. Do you get nervous in crowds?” You watched his cheeks turn a shade of pink, had he really spaced out that hard while staring at you? “W-wha.. no, no sorry…” he couldn’t think of an excuse if he tried, so you  hugged his arm a little tighter.
“I promise I won’t leave your side, so you have nothing to worry about.” You turned away before he could see the smirk creeping up your face. Before you knew it, you were being ushered inside of the dark club, the entire place was bathed in changing lights. The music was making the floor vibrate, the dance floor already flooded with people as the DJ played remixes of popular songs. You tugged Sanemi down to your level, yelling slightly “let’s go to the bar!” He nodded, allowing you to guide him through as you trailed behind your friends. He had a feeling this would probably be the last time he saw them for the rest of the night. You were leaning over the counter, yelling to the bartender what you wanted, turning to ask Sanemi what he would like. A moment later you were being handed the drinks, Sanemi pushing past you to place the money on the counter. You handed him his beer, sipping on the cocktail you had ordered for yourself. You grabbed his arm again, tugging him over to a high top table. “Crazy isn’t it?” You yelled across to him, your friends had already disappeared elsewhere. Sanemi nodded, eyes scanning his surroundings. 
“Where did your friends go?” He yelled back to you, not really caring that they had already dissolved somewhere in the crowd. “Probably already on the dance floor! It doesn’t matter though!” You laughed, already feeling a slight buzz from the strong drink, you never really had a tolerance in the first place. “Oh?” He laughed, sipping his beer “why’s that?” He continued, setting the cup down. You lean over, smiling at him “Cause I get to spend more time with you! Get your mind off of your shitty hook up.” You laughed as you straightened again, sipping more of your drink and bouncing gently to the beat of the music. Much to Sanemi’s relief, it was dark enough that you couldn’t see the way his cheeks turned a flaming red. You didn’t want to go anywhere until you finished your drink, there was no fun in dancing and spilling it everywhere. You glanced at Sanemi, noticing the way his eyes seemed to sparkle as he observed his surroundings, it was kind of cute. “I hope you don’t mind dancing!” You yelled to him, downing the rest of the cocktail with a grin. “Dancing? Me?” He still had half of his beer left, but that wasn’t going to stop you. 
“Yeah, you. Don’t tell me you came here just to stand around.” You laughed, setting your empty glass on the table before rounding it to stand next to him. “C’mon! Let loose a little.” Your hand rested on top of his, the one holding his beer cup to be exact. “You’ll have to get a couple drinks in me if you want me to let loose. And that’s not happening.” He smirked at you “Like I said, precious cargo, I need to get your pretty self home nice and safe.” You chose to ignore the pretty comment, despite the fact that it made your heart do backflips. “That’s fine, you’ll just have to get over it then and come out and dance with me sober. Everyone else is already drunk anyways, nobody is going to pay us any mind.” Liar he thought to himself, people were certainly paying you some of their mind. If one more person checked you out he was positive he was going to have a heart attack. “Not happening.” He laughed as you got closer, his heart pounding erratically as you looked up at him through your lashes. 
“Yeah, sure.” You laughed, taking a step away from him. “If you’re not going to join me, you can just watch.” You turned on your heels, maneuvering through the crowd so you could descend to the dance floor. Sanemi cursed under his breath, downing the rest of his beer and following after you. Cheeky little shit. He could help but smirk, catching up to you within a few strides and grabbing your arm. “What happened to staying close to me?” His voice was against your ear, bodies too close for him to not feel the way you shivered. “Change of heart.” You murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. “Not that it matters now, come dance.” He couldn’t say no to you, not even if he wanted to. You moved through the crowd, closer to the middle so he’d feel a little less awkward. The song began to change as you turned to face him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders so you could lean up and whisper in his ear. “Just do whatever feels right.” He couldn’t resist, his hands finding to it waist as you began swaying to the music. 
With your guidance, he began to move too, pushing past how awkward he felt about it until all he could see was you. He wasn’t even sure how it happened, but four songs had passed and the two of you were still dancing. Your bodies bumped into each other every once in a while because of the amount of people on the floor with you. It was claustrophobic, the amount of sweaty, drunk bodies swaying and grinding to the various beats the DJ played. But at that moment, he couldn’t have cared less. Not when you seemed to be having so much fun, your hands clinging to his shirt to keep him close as you danced. Sanemi let his hands wander, holding your hips just a little tighter, daring to drag you closer to him. You felt him hesitate, as if looking for your approval. You caught on, the slight buzz from your drink giving you enough courage to close the distance for him. You could have melted on the spot, your chest pressing to his due to the extra height from your heels. “Hey…” he uttered softly, just loud enough for you to hear. 
Your faces were inches apart, “… hey” you spoke softly. You were close enough that he could hear it over the music. You stopped swaying, standing completely still as you looked each other in the eye. You knew where it was going, but you wanted him to take the initiative. Sanemi’s eyes darted from yours, eyeing your lips before looking back up at you. Nervously, his tongue poked out to wet his lips, the ball of the tongue piercing glimmered under the strobe lights. There was only one time in his life that he had ever been nervous to kiss someone and it was because it was his very first kiss ever. Then again, he hadn’t really felt much for anyone outside of flings and the rare hook up. You though? You were something different entirely. It petrified him, in every possible way. Standing still on a raving dance floor just so happens to work in his favor. You both let out noises of surprise when someone accidentally bumps into Sanemi’s back, which causes him to fall into you. 
Your noses bump as the guy yelled out a sorry before stumbling further into the crowd. You begin to laugh, adding more distance when all Sanemi wanted was to close it. While you’re distracted, his hands leave your hips to cup your face, holding you in place as he closes the distance. You gasp into the kiss, the grip you had on his shirt tightening as if he’d disappear. Your initial shock disappears after a moment, your lips parting easily for him to enter. It thrills you, feeling Sanemi’s tongue sweep into your mouth, your own tongue dancing around him until you ghost across the metal tongue piercing. You whine, you had somehow already forgotten that crucial piece of information. Sanemi heard you, his hold on your face shifting back down to your hips as he swayed with you to the music again. You were fascinated by the metal, running your tongue along it until you felt the vibrations of Sanemi’s groan. 
You parted, gasping for air as the club around you suddenly felt way too overstimulating. One look told Sanemi everything he needed to know, his hand finding your own to pull you off of the dance floor. Your roles had quickly reversed, instead of you dragging Sanemi around the club, he was dragging you out of it. The cool night air no longer offered you any release, your ears ringing at the immediate volume change. “Sanemi…” he didn’t respond until you were well into the parking lot. “Yeah?” he turned to look at you, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. “Nothing…” You smiled, just wanting to see his face. That one smile nearly made his knees week, his head turning to fumble with his keys. Once the car clicked open, he reached for the back door, making your heart leap into your throat as he made his intentions extremely clear. You felt a wave of heat flood your body, scrambling past him with a chuckle. By the time you threw your purse into the front seat, Sanemi was clambering in behind you and slamming the door shut. 
He was on you again in seconds, the cramped backseat not helping the situation but you would take whatever you could. Your dress rode up as you spread your legs to accommodate Sanemi on top of you, his hand shooting to grab the back of your head before it hit the window. “This isn't ideal.” you laughed, watching a smile tug at his own lips as he moved to kiss you for a second time. “I know it's not ideal…” he pulled away to speak before kissing you a third time “but I need you…so bad.” his voice had dropped to a hush whisper, your body responding immediately to the desperation in his voice. “It’s fine…” you choked out, the arousal throbbing in your gut drowned out any discomfort you felt. You pulled Sanemi to you, trying to shift your body into a laying position to see if it made things a little easier. Sanemi’s lips were on yours for a fourth time, shifting his weight to rely on his elbows as his body pressed tightly to yours. You moaned softly into the kiss, his weight sending waves of arousal straight to your cunt. It took a minute but you were finally able to settle into a somewhat comfortable position. 
Your hands found their way to his hair, ruining his attempt at wrangling the typically untameable strands. He groaned, shivering at the feeling of your hands on him, his own excitement manifesting physically as it brushed along your exposed thigh. “Fuck…” you pulled away, your mind going blank the moment his erection grazed you. Saliva kept your lips connected, breath mingling with one another as you panted. “Sanemi…” You spoke softly, his eyes zeroing in on you and clinging to every word. “Yeah?” he couldn’t think straight, the urge to rip your dress right off of you and fuck you stupid in the back seat of his car was clawing it’s way to the forefront of his mind. “Take me home. Please, if we’re going to do this… I want to do it right. Take me to our home.” He was putty in your hands, heart racing at the use of our. “Of course, fuck of course…” His dick throbbed at the very thought, scrambling to get off of you and get into the front seat. You followed after him, barely bothering to fix your dress as you got into the passenger side. Sanemi turned the keys, the car coming to life a moment later. 
Your thighs were squeezing together as he pulled out of the spot and drove towards the street. “Ah, ah, pretty girl…” Without even looking at you, Sanemi’s hand found your left thigh and forced it away from the other. “You can wait till we’re home.” He glances at you before turning onto the road, your eyes are lidded with need, focusing on the way his scarred hand is squeezing the plush flesh of your thigh. “No fair…” You whined softly, your body aching with need, the feeling of his hand only sending your thoughts into a helpless spiral. Sanemi didn’t break though, as much as he wanted to. He was quickly realizing it pained him to tell you no, regardless of the circumstance. All the while, your eyes were shifting between his hand and his groin. His cock was straining against the material of his pants, the slight clench in his jaw told you he was struggling just as much as you were. “You asked for this.” He murmured softly when he felt your eyes on him still. “Yeah, I know but…” the realization that there was still twenty minutes left in the drive felt like utter torture. “But nothing.” He teased you again. 
“Sanemi…” you tried again, it was a useless battle, especially since you were the one who told him you wanted to go home. “You can survive, c’mon now, you can’t be that needy for me already.” His tone was low, dripping with sarcasm. It made your face feel warm, squirming in your seat as you crossed your arms. “Me? Needy? Look at you.” You tried to give him the same attitude but you couldn’t muster the courage. With the information you knew, you could certainly rile him up. But you decided to save that revelation for later. “Look at me? I don’t need to self reflect to know how badly I want you.” He squeezed your thigh to drive his point home, smirking as you gasped and tensed at the feeling. You felt small in comparison, as if nothing you said would make him break. So you let him tease you, his hand massaging your thigh until you could feel your arousal dampening your underwear. How embarrassing. You held back a groan, hand itching to return the favor. As you came to a red light, waiting to take the exit for the highway, your hand crept over. 
You placed your hand over the prominent bulge in his pants, holding your breath as Sanemi inhaled sharply. “So that’s how you’re gonna be, Hmm?” He hummed softly, his hand leaving your thigh to undo his pants. “By all means, have fun.” You swallowed, seeing the opportunity he was allowing you and taking it. You fished him out of his pants, holding back a groan as his cock sprang forward. “Fuck…” you nearly choked on your own saliva as you looked at the size of him. The red light was filling the car with a dim glow, along you to see the shine already coating his tip. “Sanemi… I just want to make sure.” You stared at him, adjusting yourself in your seat. “Make sure of what?” He seemed nonchalant but you could see the way his jaw was tensing, eyes training on the traffic light and practically begging it to go. “That if I do this, you won’t crash the car.” You teased him a bit, but it was also a genuine question. Sanemi smiled at that, throat bobbing as he swallowed before stealing a glance. “I’ll be fine.” That quick look sent your heart into a flurry, the light switching from red to green as if giving you the go ahead. 
Sanemi’s foot hit the gas a little harder than necessary, shooting forward and knocking you back a bit. “Yeah…” you mumbled under your breath, readjusting in your seat “you’ll be fine.” You mimicked him, nearly turning completely sideways in the passenger side seat. “I promise, if it’s too much I’ll tell you to stop.” There was pink coating his cheeks, the one hand he had on the wheel was clutching it so tightly his knuckles were turning white. “Yeah, whatever you say…” You laughed, leaning over to tentatively wrap your hand around the middle of his shaft. You didn’t believe one word he said, especially with the way he inhaled as your hand did nothing more than wrap around him. “I’ll take it easy on you.” You leaned forward, unable to see the way Sanemi’s eyes widened when he realized what you were doing. He had assumed it would be nothing more than a handjob to tease him until the two of you arrived home. He felt his heart leap into his throat as your head lowered to his lap. “Oh fuck…” he swallowed, eyes flickering down to you before refocusing on the road. Your tongue glided along the head of his cock, a small moan escaping your lips as Sanemi’s other hand settled on top of your head. 
You felt the car slow for a second time as Sanemi rolled up to a second traffic light. You took the opportunity to lower your head further, taking in more of his cock. “Shit…” he hissed, eyes trained on the back of your head as you lavished him with your tongue. The light was quicker than he had wanted it to be, once again he stepped on the gas, holding his breath as he took the exit to get on the highway. You steadied yourself, the position a bit uncomfortable considering you were leaning over the center console to suck him off. You dared to go lower, taking in half of him before pulling back up. It took you a minute but you found a rhythm that felt good for you, listening intently to his quiet gasps over the sound of the wind hitting the car. You couldn’t see it, but Sanemi was pushing eighty-five miles an hour as he flew down the highway. His brain was going just as fast as the car, unable to process the reality that you were going down on him. Never mind the fact that you were doing it as he drove. Your tongue continued to lick along the head of his cock, pulling way to lick further down his shaft before returning to the top. 
Carefully you pulled away all together, leaving him gasping as you settled back into your seat. “You didn’t think I was going to be that generous right?” you smirked at him, wiping the saliva from your lips as you did. Sanemi was a bit stunned, though he shouldn’t have expected anything less. Laughter bubbled in his throat, his free hand haphazardly tucking his still hard cock away. “No, I actually didn't. Though that just means I need to make things even.” His hand returned to your thigh, kneading the flesh as he continued to floor it down the highway. You swallowed, thighs parting a little further as you counted down the seconds until you were home. The alcohol was still lingering in your system, your nerves seemingly set on fire as your body ached for him. You wanted to give him more, you couldn’t wait to give him more. So far, your roommate was surpassing your expectations. Not when your wildest wet dream could compare to the things you were feeling now. Sanemi himself was nothing like the Sanemi you fantasized about, he was far better. That realization had you squirming in your seat, the silver ball tongue piercing lingering in your mind as you thought about what it would feel like. 
“I have to ask…” you sighed softly, you were maybe ten minutes away now. Sanemi glanced at you quickly before looking at the road again, he said nothing, waiting for you to continue. “Does the tongue piercing make you better at giving head?” You laughed a bit but the question was serious. Sanemi smiled, a look of pure cockiness on his face. “So I’ve been told, I’ve even considered buying one of those stupid vibrating tongue piercings but I haven’t really had a reason to do so.” His cock was throbbing as he spoke, he certainly had a reason now to buy such a lewd item. The very thought of using a vibrating tongue ring on you had precum dampen his briefs. “You’ll have to show me your skills, maybe you’ll have to eat me out twice to show me the difference with and without.” You usually would have choked on your words saying something like that, but the way Sanemi’s lips parted in surprise made you glad you said it. “So you want me to go down on you? Why don’t you amuse me and tell me all the things you want your beloved roommate to do to you, hmm?” You felt your face grow warm, the grip he had on your thigh grew tight. 
“Well, for starters, I would love for my beloved roommate to go down on me.” You sighed, still thinking about what it would be like. “I would also love for my roommate to fuck me stupid, specifically in his bed.” You felt no shame or embarrassment confessing what you wanted, the way Sanemi’s nails dug into your flesh told you he enjoyed every word you spoke. “Specifically my bed? Why is that?” He wasn’t sure why that stirred something in him, he already had every intention of taking you to his room when you finally got back. But hearing you utter those words had him feeling possessive. “I don’t really know…just like the idea. Your bed always looked comfy to me, and your room always smells nice.” What you wanted to say is that it smelt like him. His grip on your thigh had loosened just a bit when he figured he was leaving nail indents in your skin. Instead, Sanemi moved to massage the flesh as he took the exit off of the highway. You were nearly home, his mind was practically turning to mush as the anticipation grew even heavier. “What else?” 
His voice was growing hoarse, he had never wanted to fuck someone as badly as he wanted to fuck you in that very moment. “I want to finish what I started of course.” You glanced at him and then down to his lap, a smile on your lips as he inhaled deeply. “Yeah? Sounds like we’re going to have a long night.” You sighed, fidgeting a bit as your apartment building finally came in view. “We better, I got all dressed up just for you to drag me out of the club.” You laughed as he turned to look at you, the look was of pure disbelief. “By all means I can take you back.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, he wouldn’t let you go out of arm's reach at this point. “No way, I’d kick your ass.” Your hand shot down to grab his wrist, gently pulling him off your thigh. You could see his visible confusion as he watched the road, unsure of what you were doing. Slowly, you intertwined your fingers with his, smiling at the fact that he let you do it so easily. You brought his hand upwards, gently placing a kiss to the back of it. Sanemi inhaled, eyes itching to look at you but he needed to focus as he turned into the parking garage. 
You continued to place kisses on his scarred hand, kissing your way over his knuckles and up each finger. You watched as Sanemi pulled into the garage, mildly impressed that he was able to take the sharp turns with only one hand on the wheel. Your body felt as if it had been shocked with electricity as he pulled into his assigned space. You let go of his hand even though you didn’t want to, opening the car door to get out before he had even turned the vehicle off. You were too eager to speak, marching your way towards the elevator as Sanemi scrambled to follow you. “Excited?” He laughed, as if he wasn’t chasing after you with long strides. “Of course I am.” You shot him a wink as you hit the button, the elevator doors opening slowly. Once you both stepped in, all bets were off. You gasped as his hands found your waist again, pulling you to his chest so he could crush his lips against yours. “The camera…” you pulled away as you began to ascend, Sanemi couldn’t care less that this would be caught on surveillance. So he kissed you again, making his point clear as you gave in and wrapped your arms around his neck. 
It wasn’t long before the doors opened and you had to part again reluctantly, this time Sanemi was grabbing your hand and tugging you down the hall. His free hand was fumbling with his pocket, pulling out his keeps as you reached the door. You watched the key slot into the lock with bated breath, your knees nearly giving out as the door swung open and you both stumbled inside. You didn’t get a chance to properly shut the door, Sanemi was pressing you against it and effectively slamming it shut in the process. You didn’t get a chance to complain either because Sanemi was nearly suffocating you as his lips crashed to yours again. This time it was fully unrestrained, his hands pushing your dress upwards while your hands tugged at his top. The kiss turned into a messy clash of teeth and tongue until he was pulled away to bury his face in your neck instead. You gasped, the sensation of his teeth grazing your skin making you shiver as his hands trailed up your side to start tugging your dress down from the top instead. “You’re going to destroy my d-dress…” You choked as his teeth sunk into your skin. 
He only groaned in response, tongue licking along the teeth indents he had left behind. “Yeah whatever, I’ll buy you a new one.” He seemed fully unbothered, head dipping low again to suck along your jaw. Your heart was beating in your throat, hands finding their home in the hair you disturbed earlier when kissing him. “S-shit…” You sighed as Sanemi’s tongue licked along your jaw before returning to your neck. His hand gripped the top of your dress again, yanking it down harshly until you heard the zipper tear. “Sanemi!” you didn’t quite care at that moment but you knew it would bother you in the morning. “I said I’d buy you another one. Fuck I’ll buy you as many dresses as you want if it means I can tear them off of you.” He returned to leaving hickeys on your neck, not stopping until purple bruises littered your skin. You squealed as your dress was pushed down further, your breasts finally freed from their confines. Sanemi took a second to admire before attaching his lips to your nipple. A loud moan escaped you, eyes wide as you felt him suck and lick the sensitive skin. The moment the ball of his tongue piercing glided along your breast you knew you were done for, your eyes nearly rolling back as your mind went wild. 
He continued to run his tongue along your skin, flicking your nipple strategically with his tongue piercing every few goes. You could feel your knees going weak, you couldn’t support your body weight much longer if he was going to tease you like this. Sanemi seemed to realize, pulling away from your breast with a soft pop, a string of saliva keeping his mouth and your breast connected. He said nothing, rather he smirked at you, reaching down to hook his arm around your waist and haul you up and over his shoulder. “Sanemi!” you practically shrieked, you knew he was strong but you didn’t think he was that strong. You could feel his laughter, his shoulder digging into your stomach as his free hand came up to land a swift smack on your dress-clad ass. A string of profanities left your lips as Sanemi pushed his room door open, your ass cheek was stinging from the impact of his spank. “Colorful words you got there.” He snorted as he dropped you onto his bed, watching you bounce a little before settling. “Oh whatever.” your face was warm, eyes struggling to meet his. Sanemi’s head tilted, admiring how you looked. Half naked, breasts exposed and wet with his saliva. Pretty bruises littering your neck, your lips swollen from his kisses, your hair tousled from all the movement. To him, you had never looked better. 
Sanemi sighed, undoing the rest of the buttons that you had nearly ripped off, tossing the shirt to the ground and smiling as it caught your attention. “So…” he began, taking a step towards the side of his bed before leaning forward. He braced his arms on either side of your hips, the mattress dipping further under his added weight. “What do you want first? Continue where we left off… or let me get a taste…” His forehead was nearly touching yours, breath mingling as he waited for your response. “It’s your turn…” You spread your thighs a little further, hand reaching for his shoulder as you motioned for him to get on his knees before you. Sanemi huffed out a laugh “it’s hard for me to say no when you look at me like that.” His knees hit the ground with a soft thump, his hands sliding up your thighs and forcing a shiver out of you. “Do I have your permission to take this dress off of you?” His head tilts, waiting for your answer. “A-absolutely you do…”  you lifted your hips, helping him tug the material off you and drop it off to the side. Sanemi took a minute, drinking in the sight of your bare skin. He was staring at you as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your skin. “So…” your voice was soft, anticipation killing you. 
“Sorry.” his face turned red, his hands grabbing for the waistband of your panties. “You’re so beautiful.” He couldn’t look at you as he said it, if he did he was convinced his heart would implode on the spot. “So are you.” You lifted your hips for him a second time, allowing him to take the last piece of clothing you had on, off of you. “Don’t flatter me.” his tone was teasing, eyes taking on a different look as your cunt was exposed to him. No further words were spoken as Sanemi coaxed your legs open further. You braced yourself on your elbows, legs dangling off the side of the bed as Sanemi slowly moved to kiss your thighs. The shine from his tongue piercing glimmered in the moonlight leaking through his window, sending shockwaves of arousal through you as his hands moved to hold your hips. His hair tickled your thigh as he licked fat stripes up your skin, avoiding the place you wanted him most just to tease you a little further. You watched him with bated breath, whining softly as his breath fanned over you before pulling away. “Sanemi… please.” You had waited far too long for him to tease you like this. Sanemi huffed out another laugh, the persistent twitch in his pants was making him impatient as well. 
He stopped teasing you, his hands finding their way to your thighs again as he lowered his head. Your body tensed as the flat of his tongue licked along your folds. The metal ball of his tongue piercing was more prominent than you thought it would be, even though it was as warm as the rest of him, you felt it. “Oh…” you gasped, head falling backwards. You were torn between keeping yourself propped up so you could watch and just laying back to enjoy it. Sanemi’s tongue continued to lap at your cunt, purposely avoiding the place you wanted him the absolute most. “Sanemi please…” You were aching for him to pay attention to your clit, but the small smirk that tugged on his lips as he nipped at your inner thigh told you this was payback. “Sanemi please! I said I would finish what I started in the car… stop teasing me…” Your hips wiggled, thrusting upwards as if you could force him to eat you out the way you wanted. One movement and he had stilled you completely, his hand splaying across your abdomen and pushing you back to the mattress. “Relax.” His tone held authority, making you feel rather pathetic for squirming in the first place. “Sorry…” you settled again, eyes struggling to hold contact with him. “Good girl.” 
You chewed on the inside of your cheek, Sanemi’s head dipping down again to eat you out with a little more fervor. He ran the ball of his tongue piercing along your lips, leaving a shining trail of saliva in its wake. A quiet whine slipped past your lips, hand fisting in his comforter as you tried not to seem too impatient. He caught on of course, finding it impossible to hold off any longer. As much as he wanted to take his time, he was far too excited to keep holding off. A loud gasp slipped past your lips as his tongue flicked across your clit, the metal ball hitting it the second time. “Oh fuck…” The feeling of his tongue piercing very different, each pass over your clit made your thighs tense. Sanemi’s mouth moved to wrap around the pulsing nerve, sucking harshly while swiping his tongue repeatedly. The motion had your arms giving out, falling flat on the bed as you moaned completely unrestrained. Sanemi continued, one hand still pressing down on your abdomen as he used the other to place one leg over his shoulder. He quickly switched, placing his other hand on your abdomen so he could grab your other leg and throw it over his shoulder as well.
 This way, you couldn’t close your legs if you wanted to and now he had the ability to do what he did next. Your entire body tensed as two fingers slipped inside of your already wet cunt, curling perfectly before uncurling again to thrust sloppily. “S-sanemi!” You choked out his name, the sudden intensity making your eyes water as he fucked you with his fingers and tongue. As quickly as he gave in, he stopped, pulling away just enough to gasp for air. You whined, glancing down at him to see his lips and chin covered in a mixture of saliva and your arousal. “Sanemi.” All you could utter was his name at this point, no other words would come to mind unless it was to beg him to keep going. “You didn’t think I was going to be that generous, did you?” He used your own line against you, smirking as your head fell back with a groan. “L-let me make it up to you. I-I’ll finish what I started but you have to do the same.” Your previous confidence had flown out the window, your mind too cloudy to think of anything else but his tongue. “Oh, I see what you mean.” Sanemi’s hand left your cunt, moving to hold your legs and caress them softly. “How about this?” He moved your legs off of his shoulders, the position itself had made your stomach do backflips so you were a bit sad it was already over. 
You watched him straighten, standing at his full height so he could take off his pants and boxers. “Sit up, move further in.” he motioned for you to move towards the center of his bed, your heart rate spiking significantly when you realized he really had caught on to what you were implying. Within seconds, Sanemi was as bare as you, giving you a moment to admire him in his entirety before he crawled onto the bed with you. You couldn’t help yourself as you leaned over to kiss him, shivering as his hands found your hips and held you as he lowered himself into a lying position. You pulled away, lips slick with saliva as you looked down on him. “I think you know what to do… or do you want me to explain.” The look in his eyes was a teasing one, tongue sliding out to lick your saliva from his lips. “I got it.” You rolled your eyes, turning away before he saw you smile. “Alright then, show me.” It was a little awkward at first but you positioned yourself with your thighs on either side of his head, your cunt hovering just inches above your face. “Let me know when.” your voice was hoarse, Sanemi’s hands found their way to your hips again and pulled you down. You squealed as he forced nearly all of your weight on his face, until it felt like you would suffocate him. 
“A-are you sure that's not too much?” You moaned as his tongue immediately found its way to your entrance, taking that as a yes, you leaned forward to wrap your hand around his aching cock. You gave him a few deliberately slow pumps before lowering your mouth. Your lips suctioned around his tip for the second time that night, tongue lapping at the bitter precum still oozing from him. You could feel him pulsate as you used one hand to stroke what your mouth couldn’t fit, drool seeping down his length to act as lube. You took a chance, your free hand coming down to hold his balls. The reaction you got was a loud groan vibrating your cunt, Sanemi’s tongue working even harder as your orgasm suddenly began to build in your gut. You massaged him gently, tongue licking up the underside of his shaft while you shamelessly fondled his balls. The intensity building in your gut was enough to have your hips jerking away from Sanemi’s face, tears pricking your eyes as you tried to take even more of his length. A loud yelp left you as Sanemi’s hands found your hips and forced them right back down on his face. The ball of his tongue piercing slid across your clit again before dipping into your entrance. You nearly pulled off of him, fully overwhelmed by pleasure, but you managed to stop yourself. 
You continued to pump what you couldn’t fit, head bobbing in rhythm with your fist. Groans continued to vibrate your cunt, your hand still massaging the sensitive flesh. You never really knew what to do with them, but the way Sanemi was groaning told you that you were doing something right. The grip Sanemi had on your hips tightened significantly, his cock pulsating against your tongue. Strangled noises left your lips as your orgasm continued to build, the way his balls tightened in your grasp told you he was going to reach his climax at any second. You squirmed, your pace growing erratic as your hips grind down on Sanemi’s face. He encourages you, hand pushing and pulling your hips at a faster pace, finding the way your cunt ground on his tongue to be utterly exhilarating. Before you could process it, your hips were stuttering to a halt, your eyes watering as your orgasm snuck up on you. You spilled all over his tongue, a gush of warmth making your face turn hot as you struggled to continue sucking him off. Luckily for you, coming on his face was enough to send Sanemi over the edge as well, groaning loudly as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed what you could, the rest dribbling down your chin as you rolled off of him and to the mattress below. 
You were gasping for breath, staring at the ceiling as you blinked stars from your vision. You didn’t get a chance to say anything before Sanemi was sitting up and maneuvering himself to hover over you. “I’m not done with you yet.” He looked unbearably good with his hair a mess, lips swollen and shining, his pupils dilated. You reached for his face, pulling him down to crash your lips together in a sloppy kiss. His hands roamed your body, one of them moving to slip between your thighs and finger your already sensitive cunt. “F-fuck…” you pulled away, only given a second to breath before his lips were on you again. The kiss tasted of arousal, your own mixing with his, it was almost intoxicating. Paired with the way Sanemi’s fingers curled inside of you, the remnants of your first orgasm prickled in your gut. You whined into the kiss, nails dragging along his shoulders as soft squelches filled the room. “You’re so fucking beautful.” Sanemi is heaving as he parts from you, he looks completely fucked out as he looks down to watch his fingers disappear and reapper from your greedy cunt. “You can take it, right? You still got some energy, yeah?” his cock was still achingly hard. 
“Y-yeah…fuck…please just… don’t make me wait any longer, Sanemi…” He kissed you again, this time it was full of passion as he moved to crawl over you rather than lay beside you. He pulled away, looking down at you with parted lips before realizing something. “Wait, fuck we need a condom.” As he began to get off of you, your hand shot forward to stop him.”n-no we don’t… we don’t need it.” Your hands shook as you held onto his bicep, your eyes pleading with him. “We don’t need it?” He questioned, a bit shocked at what you were saying. “No…I’m clean.” You seemed to be ignoring the fact that he could easily get you pregnant. “So am I… I’ve only ever used condoms and…” he didn’t even get to fuck the girl from the night before so there was really no risk of fucking you raw. Maybe it was the lust fogging his mind and ruining his judgment, or maybe it was the sheer thrill of getting to feel you for the first time completely bare, but he agreed, choosing to forgo the condom and crawl back over you. “Are you sure?” his tone was hushed, one hand bracing himself while the other moved down to grab himself. You nodded, moving your legs to wrap around his waist so he could position himself. “Positive…just come on… Sanemi I need you, so bad.” He was a goner the moment you said that, any hesitation fleeing his body as you begged him. “Okay…okay…” he hushed you, leaning down to kiss you.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as you felt the dull head of his cock drag up and down your folds. You fumbled around a bit each time the metal ball of his piercing grazed your tongue, your hips jerking upwards to try and move him along. He was still teasing you, despite his own desperation to be inside of you. You pulled away, eyes closing as Sanemi’s tongue ran along your jaw. “Sa..Sanemi please…” you moaned at the pressure of his cock head pressing to your entrance. “Okay… okay… so impatient baby just relax…” You shivered at the nickname, something so simple made your body feel like it had been jolted with electricity. After another minute of your breathy whines, Sanemi gave in, steadying himself as he pressed his hips further into you. You both let out shaky gasps as his head pushed in, your walls immediately suctioning to the intrusion yet welcoming him at the same time. You watched Sanemi’s head look down, his hair tickling your face as he watched himself disappear inside of you inch by inch. “S-sanemi…” you choked out again, his head moving to look up at you with blown out pupils. “Yeah?” hoarse and desperate, he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of you looking at him like that. “Faster, please…” he hadn’t even bottomed out yet, a smile tugged at his lips. “God you’re so desperate, you want me so bad that it’s still not enough even when you have me.” You nodded, hands clinging to shoulders as you looked up at him. “I can’t argue with that…'' you whined as his hips met yours, his cock fully sheathed inside of your cunt. You clenched involuntarily, watching the smug smirk on his face disappear as a low moan slipped past his lips. You both stayed still, trying to adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. “You're j-just as bad.” you choked out, hips growing restless as you waited for him to gain his composure and move. The hand Sanemi had used to guide himself in was now moving to grab the back of your leg. You watched him curiously, letting him move your body into whatever position he pleased. A whine slipped past your lips as he shifted his weight into his knees, the movement pulling him out a bit before quickly pushing back. He was silent, forehead creased in concentration as he got both of your legs up over his shoulders. Sanemi inhaled deeply “This okay?” You nodded quickly, your body aching for some sort of relief as he purposely kept himself buried in you. “Y-yeah but you’re driving me insane… Sanemi please move…” Tears pricked your eyes, moaning loudly as his hips drew back half way before slamming back in. 
Sanemi’s eyes squeezed shut, groaning as his cock dragged along your walls. It took a few thrusts but Sanemi found his rhythm, your moans encouraging him, pairing well with the sound of your skin slapping together each time he buried himself balls deep. Your entire body jiggled with the force of his thrusts, your head tilting back as he fucked you in earnest, babbling sweet praises to you each time his hips drew back. You couldn’t catch your breath, each thrust dragged across a particular spot, one that had you seeing stars. Your vision blurry as tears leaked down your cheeks, the pressure in your gut building but not enough to make you cum. Your hand shakily tried to move down, aiming to rub your clit and bring you to your climax but Sanemi stopped you. “N-not until I say so…” he huffed out, sweat dripping down his temple as he pressed your legs further against your chest with his body. “I’ll tell you w-when…” he groaned, your walls clamping down around him as you sobbed. He would be concerned if it weren’t for the guttural moans falling out of you with each drag of his cock, you were nearly fucked stupid at this point and he was enjoying every second of it. “You-You’re so fucking hot…” he grounded out, the throb in his dick only increased with each thrust, he needed to make sure he pulled out but the way your pussy clung to him was almost too much to fight against. 
You responded with incoherent babbling, profanities and his name were the only intelligible words he could make out every so often. Sanemi switched his pace, rolling into you slowly until you were gasping for air, “S-Sanemi!” your hands gripped his shoulders, looking up at him with wide and desperate eyes. “Hmm?” he smirked down at you, each roll of his hips had him bumping your clit. “F-fuck…” he adored teasing you, the way your nails raked his skin as he tried to calm himself down. It was the only reason he changed his pace, he didn’t want this to end just yet, edging himself and you until he was absolutely desperate. “Yeah? Tell me how good I am, tell me how good I am at fucking you.” You choked, throat feeling dry as your restless hips tried to speed up his movements. “I don’t think so, pretty girl.” Sanemi drew out of you all together, ignoring your pleading as he moved to place both of your legs on one shoulder. He hugged them together with one arm, effectively immobilizing your restless body. “I’m not giving you what you want until you tell me…” He cooed softly, hand reaching down to wipe the tears leaking down your cheeks. You caught your breath, your cunt throbbing from the lack of contact when you had been so close to coming again. 
“You’re so mean…” You hiccuped, acting as if he hadn’t given you everything you had wanted thus far. “Mean? Me?” he cooed softly, leaning over you a bit. “I’m sorry baby, but I’m not doing anything until you tell me how good I’m doing.” he repeated, tongue sticking out a bit as he smiled, biting down softly so you could see the underside of the tongue piercing. “Y-You’re doing good…” you whined, hands fidgeting as you couldn’t figure out where to place them. “Mmm? You can do better than that, tell me in detail.” The tip of his cock dragged along your folds, further driving you towards insanity at his sudden need to edge you. You squirmed, mouth feeling dry as you tried to conjure up a response that would please him. Your brain felt like mush though, face flooding with heat as you began to speak. Y-you’re fucking me so good, b-best I’ve ever had…” Sanemi smirked, his fingers thrumming along your calf. “Keep going, I know you have more to say.” His free hand was still dragging his cock through your folds, coating himself in your slick heat. “Sanemi… come on…” you whined, chest rising and falling rapidly each time he passed over your clit. You were sensitive enough that you were convinced you could cum just from that. 
“Ah Ah, Sanemi nothing. Tell me how good my cock feels, my tongue, my fingers. I know you have a lot to say, you’re just being stubborn.” His eyes scanned over your face, the urge to kiss you was clawing at the back of his mind but the position didn’t allow him any room for that kind of movement. “Fuck! Y-you’re gonna make me cum if you…” Sanemi’s ears perked up, a smirk tugging at his lips as he continued to drag himself along your pussy. “Yeah? You’re gonna cum again just from this? All the more reason to tell me, baby.” You felt like you couldn’t breath, your orgasm building and tingling in your gut as you struggled to form coherent thoughts. “...ood…good… so fucking good your tongue is amazing. A-and your cock is-is better than I ever imagined it would be… so much better…” That caught his attention, swallowing thickly as he asked you to clarify. “Than you ever imagined? So… you’ve imagined me fucking you before?” He seemed to turn breathless, mouth hanging open just a bit as he watched your face contort. You were going to cum just from this, it was driving him wild. “Y-yes! Fuck I imagined you fucking me stupid all the t-time…” your hands fisted the sheets below you, pulling them taught as your walls clenched around nothing at all. “More…tell me more…” he needed to hear it. 
“O-oh fuck…” you were nearly there. “Those mornings… fuck those mornings where i’d find you in the kitchen sh-shirtless… you fucking tease…” Your head fell back, gasping for air before you continued. “A-all I could think about was y-you bending me over the fucking counter and fucking me stupid…” Your orgasm was within reach, each sinful drag of his cock over your pulsating clit had you seeing stars. Your words seemed to do something to him, a loud moan ripping from your throat as he plunged back inside of you. Your orgasm rippled through you, walls twitching around him as you pathetically gripped him like a vice. It fizzled out far too soon, the lack of contact with your clit ending it almost prematurely. That didn’t stop the pleasure coursing through your body as Sanemi started right out of the gate with a brutal pace. “S_san-emi…” You wailed, nearly ripping his sheets as you tried to find some sort of stable grounding. “P-perfect… you’re so fucking perfect… with such a filthy fucking mind… Do you know how many times I got off thinking about you? Your beloved roommate is a perv…” he huffed out a laugh, looking at you with lidded eyes. “But it looks like my beloved roommate is just… as bad…” he groaned. 
You wailed, eyes squeezing shut as his hips continued to ram his cock into you. His words did nothing but encourage your pleasure, the mild overstimulation had melted into pleasure. You could barely think straight but that didn’t stop you from feeling the persistent twitch of his cock, he was going to cum soon. You clenched around him, trying to tease him back and push him towards the edge, sweat dripped down his temple as he looked at you. “Naughty girl… you want me…my cum hmm?” his voice was hoarse, the strength in his teasing was dying out as his own release built. You nodded shamelessly, “p-please Sanemi…Nemi please…” The quiet nickname nearly did him in, hips stuttering for a moment before he found his pace again. “You want my cum? You want me to fill you up? Stuff you full…” the desire to spill inside of you was all too tempting, regardless of the potential consequences for doing so. He wouldn’t let himself get caught up in that daydream just yet, not when you were so pliant, not when you were so easily letting him have you however he pleased. His grip on your legs tightened, keeping you positioned with them both over one of his shoulders. This angle allowed him to watch the way your thigh and ass jiggled with the impact of each thrust. 
“Y-yes…yes…fuck… please.” you babbled out, drool nearly slipping past the corner of your lip. Sanemi knew he was done for, the way you were looking at him was enough to make him melt. He’d never be able to deny you of anything you wanted, especially when you were looking at him like that. Caught up in his own emotions, his hips stuttered into a halt as his orgasm ripped through him. He moaned, completely unrestrained as his head fell forward with his eyes squeezed shut. His release spurted into you, making you whine as he pathetically thrusted into you with a shaky roll of his hips. The room fell silent, nothing but his panting mixed with your own, filling the quiet space. It took a few moments before either of you were ready to speak, your body feeling a bit sore. “Fuck…” Sanemi huffed out a breathless laugh, pulling out of you slowly. He watched for a moment as his cum leaked out of your abused entrance. He had to force himself to look away, setting your legs down gently. “Fuck.” you repeated him, a lazy grin on your face as you stretched, grimacing just a bit as you felt his release smear on your thighs. 
Sanemi fell backwards, sprawling out on his mattress with one of his pillows beneath his head. You sat up, eyes shamelessly roaming over him and the content smile on his face. You thought about it for a moment before crawling over him. Sanemi watched you with an amused stare, your weight settling on him perfectly. Your thighs rested on either side of his hips, knees making the mattress dip as you laid forward and squished your chest to his. Your hands came up to hold his jaw, lazily kissing along his sweaty skin. Sanemi let you do as you pleased, hands coming down to hold your waist as you showered him in affection. “I meant every word I…tried to say.” you laughed softly, kissing his neck one last time before looking at him. “Mmm, I’m glad… I meant every word I said too, you know.” one hand left your waist to push your hair out of the way, the hair he had messed up while fucking you. It gave him satisfaction for some reason. You smiled, hands trialing from his face to his chest as you carefully pushed yourself into a sitting position. “Do you trust me, Sanemi?” That question had him looking at you with hesitation. 
“Well, let’s see. You convinced me to fuck you with no condom, and you convinced me to creampie you…” he laughed as you playfully hit his chest. “I also live with you, I don’t lock my door at night…so I think…” he trailed off, fingers dancing along the skin on your thighs as he held you. “... I think it’s safe to say I do, in fact, trust you.” You laughed, rolling your eyes a bit “You’re such a drama queen.” Sanemi smiled up at you, the moonlight hitting you perfectly. Your smile seemed to shine, making his heart flutter. “Maybe I am, but I gave you my answer. It’s only right if you tell me why you asked.” Your fingers traced shapes on his chest as you looked at him through your lashes. “Well… I’m in the mood for more.”  You started tentatively, gauging his reaction as you spoke. You nearly shivered at the way his eyes changed, quickly adapting a more sultry look. “That so? You’re still hungry for more?” his heart could explode on the spot, his dick immediately twitching to life again. “Yeah, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get enough of you.” That statement alone had Sanemi’s cheeks turning a shade of red. “I can easily say the same.” You laugh softly, feeling him twitch against the swell of your ass. 
Your fingers continued to trace shapes along his chest, trailing down to his stomach and back up again. You counted the scars as you went, toned muscle flexing as you seemed to hit a ticklish spot. You kept him waiting, his hands holding your hips tightly as he waited for you to do something. “This is going to be my payback, isn’t it.” He laughed softly as you smiled, looking up at him with a mischievous look in your eyes. “Of course it is… you’ll comply, right?” of course he would, you could ask him to run naked through the street right now and he’d likely do it just to see you smile. “Kiss me.” it came out as a whisper, the look in his eyes pleading you to do it. You melted, leaning forward to kiss him slowly. It was different from any kiss you had shared that night, it was soft and sensual, as if you would devour the other whole. You began to laugh as the ball of his tongue ring clinked against your tooth. Sanemi erupted into a fit of giggles, the sound vibrating his chest. “That’s the first time that's ever happened.” You smiled, placing a chaste kiss on his lips before speaking. “Oh? Glad I could be your first something.” Sanemi’s head tilted against the pillow, “You’ve been a couple of firsts for me already.” he teased with a gentle grin. 
That piqued your interest, pushing up gently until you were sitting again. His cock was still standing proudly, twitching slightly against your ass. “Please indulge me.” Sanemi laughed, hands sliding up and down your thighs slowly. “You’re the first person to make me dance at a club, the first person to give me road head, the first girl I ever fucked raw and came in…” he laughed as you slapped his chest again “You asked!” he squeezed your thighs a bit, eyes lighting up as you laughed with him. You leaned forward again, kissing him deeply for the umpteenth time. This time it was a little different, one of your hands planted firmly to Sanemi’s chest as you used the other to reach behind and grab him. He gasped into the kiss, allowing you to swallow it whole as you positioned him right at your entrance. You settled back slowly, engulfing him in wet heat. You felt different to him this time, your arousal mixed with his cum making you feel even wetter than before. His nails raked your thighs as you sat down fully, chest heaving as you adjusted to him being inside of you again. You both stared at each other in silence, your hips rolling slowly. You indulge yourself for a minute, squirming as your clit dragged along his pubic bone with each slow roll of your hips. Sanemi watched you, completely entranced by your body.
“This time around…” you stopped rolling your hips, hands splaying across his abdomen as you gauged how much you could move. “...you’re going to tell me how good I’m fucking you.” with your knees digging into the mattress, you could lift your hips about half way before dropping them down again. You were satisfied with that for the time being, smiling sweetly at Sanemi as you tried to find your rhythm. He watched you closely, mouth parted slightly as you began to properly bounce on him. You couldn’t help but feel warm as his eyes shamelessly drank in the sight of your body, eyes glued to the way your breasts bounced with each drop, the way his cock disappeared and reappeared between your thighs. He wasn’t used to being at someone’s mercy, but he rather enjoyed watching you have your fun. You continued to bounce, leaning forward a bit to dip your head down and lick up his stomach. A strangled noise slipped past Sanemi’s lips as your tongue ran up his abs and towards his chest. Nobody had ever done that to him before, the look alone was enough to make his head spin. You didn’t stop there, licking your way to his chest and gliding your tongue over one nipple. All the while, your hips were still moving up and down his length. You trailed your tongue over his nipple again, enjoying the way his grip on you tightened, a shaky breath escaping him. You wanted to hear more.
You looked up at him, your lashes making your view a little blurry. But it was still enough for you to enjoy the steadily growing flush on Sanemi’s face, the way it crept up to his ears and down to his chest, not quite reaching where your tongue was circling. You could feel his heart pounding under your hand, lips suctioning to his nipple and sucking gently. Another strangled noise escaped him, a mix between a moan and a whine, it only made him flush further. Still, you ached to hear more. Your hips had grown a bit restless, your mind focused on his chest more than the drive of your hips. You tried to recenter, hips moving rhythmically again as you bit down on his nipple. Sanemi cried out, eyes squeezing shut as pleasure mixed with embarrassment. You were going to drive him crazy, the feeling of your lips suctioned to his chest had his heart nearly vibrating with the intensity it was beating. You pulled your lips away, suppressing a moan as you settled fully on him again. “So…” your fingers trialed over his nipple, slick with your saliva, you felt the urge to bite him harder. “So…” Sanemi choked out, a bit dazed by your actions. “How am I doing so far?” At this point you were cockwarming him instead of riding him, just enough to edge him but not enough for him to come. 
“Really good…you’re doing really good…” he swallowed, hips becoming a bit restless as they jerked a little beneath you. Grinning, you leaned down again, teeth sinking into the flesh of his pectoral as your hips lifted nearly all the way before slamming down on him. Sanemi moaned again, the sensations turning his brain back into mush as you lapped at the teeth marks you left around his nipple. You repeated this process with the nipple you had neglected thus far, moaning softly as you rolled your hips. You were going to drive him insane, your version of teasing was far crueler than his. Yet he loved every minute of it, completely lost in the way you were edging him. When you were satisfied with your markings, you shifted your full attention back to riding him, pulling off all together despite his complaints as you repositioned yourself. “It’ll be worth it…” you crooned, ignoring the strain in your thighs as you planted your feet firmly on either side of his hips. The best part, Sanemi was completely pliant, letting you do as you pleased with a flushed face and lazy grin. But you could tell, he was waiting for you to go too far, tease him for too long, then he’d take over. You really wanted to see what his limits were, albeit you figured you would have plenty of time after tonight to figure that out. But, you had waited too long to not try and indulge in everything now. 
You sunk back down on him, watching Sanemi’s head fall back as you took half of him. Once again, you began to bounce until you found a good rhythm. Even though your thighs burned a bit with the effort, your new position allowed you much more control over your movements. “Fucking…shit…oh fuck~” You whined just as loud as Sanemi’s words, your whole body feeling warm as you rode him with more fervor. The slick sounds emitting from your needy cunt had you whining, eyes wanting to squeeze shut but unable to. You didn’t want to miss a single second of the way Sanemi’s face contorted in pleasure. He was way more sensitive, a third orgasm in such a short time frame may be pushing him beyond his limits but god dammit you were too perfect to stop. His eyes seemed to gloss over, hands pathetically grasping at your legs as his hips bucked up unceremoniously to meet yours. “T-tell me…” You gasped out, hands falling behind you to brace yourself on his knees. “Good! Fuck you’re so per-ah-perfect.” He was turning scarlet, embarrassed by the noises you were getting out of him. “G-good…such a good boy…” you crooned, body aching with effort as you continued to fuck your self on him. Sanemi’s mind seemed to blank the moment you uttered good boy. 
Any ounce of self restraint he had flew straight out the window. Sanemi’s hips jutted upwards, earning a yelp in response as you tried to regain your balance. It didn’t work though, you went from leaning backwards to falling against his chest within seconds. “S-sanemi…” you choked out as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you in place as his feet found stable ground in the mattress below him. This new position left you completely at his mercy, his hips pistoning into you with new vigor. The noises you made nearly sounded animalistic, your skin recoiling with each upwards thrust of his hips. “Y-you…this was supposed to be…” you nearly wailed, your orgasm coming out of nowhere as you sprayed warm liquid all over his dick. It dripped slowly to the mattress below, effectively ruining his bedding. Not that Sanemi cared though, if anything it made him work harder. “Yeah… your turn… I’ll g-give you another chance some other time.” His jaw was clenched, your body was nearly limp against his as he continued to rut into you. It didn’t take that much longer, Sanemi thrusts grew erratic as he reached his third and final peak. He came inside again, no longer caring about the consequences when his bones felt like jelly. 
He fully relaxed a moment later, breathing heavy and unable to move. You couldn’t even find the strength to lift your head, listening intently to Sanemi’s heartbeat slowly return to normal. You stayed in that position for a while, shivering as his softened cock slipped out of you, the steady leak of his cum following it. “So…” Sanemi spoke softly, eyes feeling heavy. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt this content. “So…” you repeated, carefully lifting your head. You had moved to get off of him, despite his protests. You settled next to him, your front pressed snuggly to his side, his arm wrapping around your shoulder to hold you close. “We need to clean up.” he muttered softly, not only did the two of you need to clean yourselves, you needed to change his bedding. “Yeah, we do, but I can’t really feel my legs right now.” You laughed, hand resting on his chest to trace the scars that were there. Sanemi snorted, his hand playing with your hair while his arm still rested on your shoulders. “We can worry about it in a little bit.” he teased softly, heart feeling as light as air with you next to him. “Did this… make-up for your shitty experience last night?” You chewed on your lower lip, now was a better time than any to reveal your secret. 
“Ugh don’t remind me.” he cringed a bit, thinking back on the entire thing. “Well… I do have something to confess…” you started lightly, only a little worried about how he’d react. Though, it seemed Sanemi was already a step ahead of you. “You were awake, weren’t you?” he didn’t sound mad, rather he sounded curious. “I was.” you sounded a bit sheepish, continuing carefully. “I heard the whole ordeal and… well… I heard you moan my name.” You squeezed your eyes shut, even though you didn’t think he would react poorly, you were still bracing yourself for anger. “You did, huh?” Sanemi is chuckling, his hand still playing with your hair. “Is that why you had the courage to make a move?” It seems he knew you better than you thought. “Yeah, actually. It was the only reason I felt confident enough going for you… I was so scared of ruining this.” Your confession had his cheeks turning pink, a gentle smile creeping up his features. “I guess I can’t be too mad, especially since it led you right into my arms…finally.” he added softly, he wasn’t used to all this mushy stuff but with you he couldn’t seem to help it. “So, you feel the same then?” you were positive you had feelings for him, but you worried it was too soon to go on and confess you loved him. Even though it was the honest truth. 
“If that feeling is love… then yes. It’s going to sound incredibly cliche, but I’ve been in love with you since the moment I laid eyes on you. Those feelings only intensified the more I got to know you.” You looked up at him, finding a bit more strength in your limbs as you moved to kiss his cheek. “I…I love you too. It’s super cliche but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, you’ve been a thought on my mind since we met up for the first time to see if we’d be a good fit to live together.” you confessed with a grin, eyes sparkling in the moonlight that filled his room. “So we've been dancing around each other since the end of August for no reason.” Sanemi laughed in disbelief, you joined him. “I guess so.” You laughed as well, thighs shifting and making you cringe a bit. “We really need to clean up…” you could feel the sticky remnants beginning to dry. “We do.” He sounded a bit sad as he let you go, allowing you to get up and off the bed. He followed you, holding back a laugh when he realized how fucked up his comforter got. “Go take a shower, I’ll take care of this.” You pouted a bit, face warm when you looked at the damage. “Will you join me after?” You truly had no energy for anything else, but the idea of showering alone just felt so lonely. Sanemi laughed, pulling you close to place a kiss on top of your head. “Yeah, I’ll join you.” he let you go a moment later, watching as you walked out of the door and headed for the bathroom. 
Now that he was alone, he couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his face. He was so happy he could start skipping, he had never been so happy to strip his bed. The comforter would need to be washed, so would his sheets, but luckily his mattress was unharmed. That being said, he wasn’t in any mood to go to the basement and do a load of laundry. “Her bed it is.” he muttered to himself, thankful that your bed was still clean and untouched. Laundry could wait for the morning, for now, you were waiting for him in the shower. You had only been standing under the warm water for a few minutes before Sanemi joined you. Neither of you had the energy to do anything other than bathe, though it was far more intimate than anything you had done that night. He was gentle with you, taking all the time he could to bathe your body. He even washed your hair for you, scrubbing your scalp with care. You returned the favor, enjoying every minute of washing his body, enjoying the way his muscles flexed. “You’re ticklish, aren't you.” he couldn’t deny it if he wanted to. You two stayed in the shower until the water began to turn cold. You stood in front of the mirror, towel wrapped around you as you began brushing your teeth, it was close to one in the morning at this point. Sanemi fell into rhythm beside you, brushing his teeth and while watching you in the mirror. You winked at him, putting your toothbrush away and laughing as he blushed. 
Sanemi had told you the plan before getting out of the shower, so you entered your room to find something to put on. Sanemi joined you again a few minutes later, dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers. “I promise this is how I typically sleep.” He laughed when you eyed in with your eyebrow cocked. You had put on an oversized tshirt and panties, no bra or anything else. You settled into bed together, curling up beside Sanemi immediately. “There is one other thing we haven’t discussed.” You started softly, head resting on his chest as you closed your eyes. “Yeah? What is it?” His hand had returned to your hair, playing with slightly damp locks. “What are we? Now, I mean.” You were giving him the option, allowing him to choose whatever he felt most comfortable with. “Well, if you’d let me… I’d love for you to be my girlfriend.” You were thankful the room was dark and that your face was on his chest so he couldn’t see the way you smiled. “I would love nothing more than to call you my boyfriend.” You tried to sound calm but the giddiness in your tone gave it away. “Consider it done then, pretty girl.” You laughed now, arm slinging over his waist to hold him close. “Good night, lover boy.” Sanemi’s laughter rumbled in his chest, quietly he uttered “Good night, pretty”
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
A month and a half later, your shared apartment looked a bit different. You had sold your bed frame and mattress after a few weeks of sleeping only in Sanemi’s bed. You figured the items were just taking up space and there was probably some college student itching to get their hands on a good deal. Plus… who doesn’t like a little bit of pocket money. So you listed them as a set and it’s no shock that they sold within a day. Sanemi had been lovingly pestering you to turn the space into a gym/office. “There is no way we’re getting gym equipment all the way up here! There is a damn community gym on the ground floor.” Sanemi had only pouted, saying he didn’t want all the fancy stuff. Just some weights and maybe a pull up bar so he could work out while you studied. “You just want new ways to seduce me.” His laugh told you that you weren’t too far off with your statement. In the end, you gave in. Since you’d be living here the whole year, even during break, it was only right to make the place your own. 
This time, as a couple opposed to roommates. 
You ended up finishing your room makeover just in time for finals. The t wo of you spent the week leading up to your exams in that room, stud ying… for the most part. Regardless, the most dreaded time of year came and went and you both ended your semester with passed exams and passed classes. Now, you can enjoy your winter break in peace. “Are you sure they won’t be upset?” Your cheeks puffed out as you pulled the zipper closed on your suitcase. “Of course not, Ma will love having another mouth to feed. It’s her biggest form of love really. Plus my siblings have been dying to meet you.” Your heart fluttered a bit, you’d only talked to and seen Sanemi’s family through his own texts and pictures. You had gotten to know Genya a bit over the few times Sanemi facetimed him. As for the other siblings, you were still trying to get their names and faces down pat. You often found yourself silently repeating “Genya, Sumi, Hiroshi, Tekio, Koto, and Shuya.” his mother’s name was Shizu, which you had already committed to memory. 
“I really don’t want to be any trouble.” You added softly, still a bit worried about going to meet his family. Sanemi stopped looking through his things, looking up at you with a sad smile. “You won’t be any trouble at all, I mean it. My Ma even yelled at me over the phone! She said if I didn’t bring you home with me then she’ll never let me hear the end of it. She’s even more excited to meet you than my siblings are.” He crossed the room, wrapping you in a tight hug. “It seems like a lot of pressure…” he added softly, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. “But you have nothing to worry about, they’ll love you, just as much as I do.” You laughed a bit, mumbling out an “I love you too” against his chest. When you pulled away, he was a bit surprised to see tears in your eyes. “Hey…” he whispered softly, smiling as he used his thumb to wipe them away. “I promise you, they’ll love you.” His constant affirmations made your heart pound. “I trust you.” He kissed your forehead, letting you go just a bit reluctantly. “Do you have everything you need?” Luckily his family lived kinda close. It would only take three hours by train to get there. His mother would be waiting to pick the two of you up from the station.
“I do, do you?” you raised an eyebrow as he closed up the fairly empty suitcase. “Yeah, it’s my home we're going too.” he chuckled as he placed it on the floor “most of my stuff is still there.” You did the same, pulling up the handle so you could wheel it. “I guess that's true…” you were excited to see his family home, it would give you even more insight on the man you loved. You would be staying with them for two weeks and then returning. By then the holidays would be over and you’d get to start preparing for the spring semester. Then, you’d figure out if you’d renew the lease or look for somewhere else to stay. It seemed rather daunting but it was still months away, nothing to worry about now other than making a good impression. Sanemi lets you go ahead of him, flicking off the lights to your shared room before following you to the door. Your backpack was slung over one shoulder, your keys in the hand that was wheeling your suitcase behind you. “We’re still catching a taxi right?” Neither of you wanted to pay to keep your car at the train station for the next two weeks. “Yeah, I’ll pay for it.” He smiled when you scrunch your nose, you hated that he insisted on paying for everything himself.
Hell, he had even tried to pay the rent in full himself. By try, you mean he did. You nearly killed him when you found out he went ahead and paid for the next month in full. Regarding gifts, you had both decided to exchange them when you returned, it would just be easier than lugging them to and from. So, after Sanemi did one last check to make sure all lights were off, everything was unplugged and the stove wouldn’t mysteriously ignite on its own, you were stepping into the hall and locking the door. You still had roughly five hours before encountering the rest of the Shinazugawa family, but that didn’t ease the butterflies in your stomach as you pressed the button for the ground floor. “You already look as if you’ll faint.” Sanemi laughed, nudging you with his shoulder and watching you quickly catch your balance. You huffed out a laugh, rolling your eyes as you gripped the handle of your suitcase tightly. “You’d feel the same if we were going to meet my family. You’re just lucky they are a flight away.” Sanemi couldn’t deny it, the very thought made his stomach turn as the elevator doors opened. “Touché”. 
The next thing you knew, you were boarding the train. “I texted my Ma and told her we’re on our way.” He seemed giddy, the grin on his face was that of an excited little kid. You couldn’t help but smile as well, his excitement was contagious. “That's good!” you took the window seat, hand immediately reaching for Sanemi’s once he put your backpack in the overhead storage. Catching the train now meant you’d get to Sanemi’s hometown around ten in the morning. Then you could crash in his room after the breakfast Sanemi had assured you his mother would make. “She won’t be satisfied until we’ve gained a few pounds.” The thought warmed your heart, you just prayed you made a good impression on such a wonderful lady. There was one thing you weren’t aware of though, and it was the fact that Shizu practically knew you already. Simply because of how often Sanemi texted her gushing about you. Within three days of you two settling into your new relationship, he had excitedly texted her that he had a girlfriend. Shizu wasn’t all that shocked when he told her it was his roommate, she could tell from the first time he ever spoke about you that he liked you. His mother could read him better than anyone. 
This time, it was different than any of the girls he had ever brought home. Most of them only lasted a few weeks before breaking things off and moving on. When Shizu asked him why, he would say things just weren’t clicking. But with you? It was something else entirely. She still thinks back on the phone call she received from Sanemi, shortly after meeting with you about the roommate request. “I finally found a good place with good rent, just out of my budget but this girl was looking for a roommate. I met with her a little while ago and she’s super nice. She said she would gladly let me take the room because we clicked right away. Her name is y/n, Ma she's so pretty and kind. I mean I don’t want to get ahead of myself but wow…” Shizu had been smiling the whole time he spoke, congratulating him softly as he continued to go on about you. It wasn’t until the two of you made things official that Sanemi actually sent her a picture of the two of you. He had been dying too for months now but he didn’t want to cross your boundaries or make things weird. Shizu had to admit, you were prettier than she could have ever imagined. She had painted such a pretty picture of you in her head based on the way Sanemi spoke about you. But the picture he had sent had actually made her gasp.
It was candid, you must have been laughing at something he said but your eyes seemed to sparkle as you looked at him. Sanemi had already accumulated an entire album of candid shots of you, but you didn’t know that. “Earth to Sanemi?” you waved your hand in front of his face, laughing softly as he blinked back into reality. “Huh?” the train had already begun to move, the world flying past the window at rapid speeds. “You can lean on my shoulder if you’re that sleepy.” You laughed again, thumb brushing along his scarred knuckles. “No, no I’m fine. I was just thinking.” He confessed softly, cheeks turning a shade of pink as he looked at you. You noticed that look in his eyes, when his pupils seem to swallow the pale purple of his irises. “You’re daydreaming about me, huh?” you had a cheeky grin on your face as he groaned, he still couldn’t understand how you always caught him. “I was right, wasn't I?” you laughed softly, playing with his fingers as he nodded lamely. “You’re always on my mind, what can I say?” 
You look away, making a fake gagging noise, Sanemi’s laughter reaching your ears as you turn to look at him again. “You’re such a sap.” You laughed, settling your head against his shoulder. “It’s all your fault.” He muttered softly, embarrassed just a bit by how soft you turned him. When it came to you, he could melt into a pile of mush over something as simple as you laughing at what he said. “I guess you’re right, I can’t help the fact that I’m so loveable.” You yawn, eyes scanning the surroundings that fly past. You could feel Sanemi’s shoulder shake as he laughed, a smile tugging on your face. Silence fell over the two of you as the train barreled towards your destination, it took him a minute to realize you had fallen asleep. “I guess you were running off of nerves.” He laughs softly, opening his phone camera to snap a photo of your cheek squished into his shoulder. He saved it to his album, smiling as he scrolled through the photos before quickly closing it and putting in one ear bud. “Looks like I’ll have a lot of time to myself.” He had a funny feeling you wouldn’t be waking up any time soon. 
His assumption was correct, he was gently shaking you awake as the train approached the station. “We’re here.” He smiled down at you, at some point he had managed to shift your head from his shoulder down to his lap. You blinked awake, eyes scanning your surroundings as you tried to recall what was even going on. “You can sleep more once we get to my home, but for now, we’re about to stop.” Sanemi’s voice is soft, watching as realization dawns on your features and you go from lying down to sitting straight up in the blink of an eye. “W-we’re here?” You practically squeaked, the nervous butterflies turning into a frenzy as you realized within the next ten minutes you’d be meeting Sanemi’s mother. “Oh my god! Why did you let me fall asleep! I had no time to mentally prepare!” Your hands came up to hide your face, trying to collect yourself as you inhaled deeply. Sanemi just watched you with a smile, finding your nerves to be amusing. “You’re going to be perfectly fine, I swear.” The train finally stopped all together, jerking you slightly as the conductor came over the intercom to announce the stop and the doors opened at the end of each train car. “C’mon, just rip the bandaid.” 
“Easier said than done…” You stood up, immediately feeling weighed down by dread as Sanemi pulled your backpack from the overhead storage and gave it to you. “You’ll be fine, you’ll be laughing at yourself in less than fifteen minutes when you realize how much you overreacted.” You wanted to believe he was right, but naturally your nerves wouldn't settle until you had met his family and settled in for the two week stay. You reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly as he led you off the train with the rest of the passengers getting off at this stop. “Wait here and I’ll grab the suitcases.” You nodded, hand gripping the strap of your backpack as you tried to replicate the grounded comfort Sanemi’s hand offered you. Within two minutes he was strolling back to you, both suitcases wheeling behind him.”Here we are.” He gave the handle of yours to you, sighing softly as your hand reached for it shakily. “I’m gonna call my Ma real quick to let her know we’re here. I’m sure she is too but I don’t know where she could have parked.” You nodded, unable to formulate words as the dreaded anticipation built. It was no shock when you heard her pick up after one ring, her voice reaching your ears even over the bustling station. 
Sanemi clicked his phone off a moment later. “She’s waiting out front.” He smiled at you, shoving his phone in his pocket so he could hold your hand. “I’m not even going to ask if you’re ready cause I know you’ll say no.” He teased you softly, pulling you along as you followed behind him just a step. Your eyes scanned the station around you, noting how many people seemed to be swamped with holiday gifts they were bringing to family. The holidays were a dreaded time to travel, you typically tried to avoid it, but you could make an exception for this. Especially when you had a boyfriend like Sanemi with you. The cold air outside hit you like a freight train, your hand squeezing Sanemi a little tighter as the train station crowd didn’t seem to disperse after exiting the building. Sanemi stopped for a moment, eyes scanning the curb until he spotted a familiar SUV, a car he deemed way too big for his short mom. But with all of his siblings, a car that size was necessary.  “There she is.” He didn’t let go of your hand, rather he let his suitcase go for a moment so he could wave to her. That small detail made your heart flutter a bit, for a reason other than your panicked nerves. 
Your throat seemed to go dry as the car door opened and a small woman jumped out of the car. “Sanemi! Y/N!” she called with a bright smile as the two of you walked towards her. “Ma! How are you?” Sanemi smiled, you let go of his hand so he could hug his mom. “It’s lovely to finally meet you, Miss Shinazugawa.” You used both hands to clutch your suitcase now, waiting for her to let go of her son. “Please, call me Shizu, dear.” She beamed at you, leaving Sanemi to pull you into a tight hug. You jumped a bit but welcomed the embrace, motherly love was always comforting. “Oh, alright.” You smiled softly, your nerves melting just a bit as you hugged her back. “It’s freezing, let's get your stuff in the car and get you two home.” Shizu pulled away, hands coming up to hold your face with a gentle smile. Sanemi took the initiative, taking your things and putting them in the trunk, his mother opened the back door for you to get in before rounding the car and getting back in the driver seat. A moment later Sanemi was joining you in the back. “Away we go.” Shizu smiled, glancing at the two of you in the rear view mirror before pulling away from the curb and out to the street. 
“I must prepare you two now, the kids are ecstatic to see the two of you. So please, y/n-dear, don’t be afraid to say you’re overwhelmed.” She laughed softly, you nodded a bit as Sanemi’s hand found your own. “I’ll try and be your human shield.” He laughed, “I’m sure Genya will be one too, he’s good at picking up on emotions and such, he’s also great at handling the little gremlins.” It was comforting to know that they thought far ahead for you, making it apparent they wouldn’t take any offense if you truly got overwhelmed. “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind but I’m sure I'll be okay. Thank you for welcoming me so kindly, Shizu.” Her name still felt a bit awkward on your tongue but you felt rude to call her by anything else. “Of course dear, I’m very happy to have you here. It’s not often at all that Sanemi even brings home friends, nevermind such a beautiful girl like you.” Sanemi made a strangled noise of embarrassment as you laughed. “I’m not surprised, he’s never brought any friends back to our apartment.” You teased him, watching as his mouth dropped “Hey! Neither do you.” You shrug “I guess you’re right.” 
Shizu was smiling, glancing back at the two of you in the mirror every so often. “So, what happened that the two of you finally realized your feelings for one another?” A question like that had you and Sanemi growing warm, glancing at each other quickly. “Oh, uhm… well…” Your face was burning by now, memories of that night flashing through your mind. “M-Ma a question like that is a bit much.” Sanemi didn’t sound upset, rather he sounded flustered. That gave away more than needed, making Shizu laugh in response. “Oh, I see.” her tone had your eyes squeezing shut, embarrassment forcing a laugh out of you. “I’m not one to judge, ya know. Regardless of how it happened… though I think I get what’s being implied, clearly your feelings for one another go a lot farther than physical.” Sanemi groaned out another “ma” before Shizu began to laugh. “You’re both adults, Sanemi, I’d be foolish to think you two haven’t gone a lot further.” This time you couldn’t help but look at Sanemi and laugh, his mother’s innocence and honesty was comforting. “Yeah, okay Ma we get it.” Sanemi’s ears were burning red, the smile on your face only making it worse because you clearly found this all to be amusing. 
The rest of the car ride continued with easy going banter, before you knew it Shizu was pulling into the driveway of the Shinazugawa family home. “Feeling better?” Sanemi whispered to you softly as his mom got out of the car to pop the trunk. “Yeah, but I’ll feel even better after we get this over with.” You chuckled nervously, seeing one of his siblings peek through the front window before disappearing again. Sanemi kissed your cheek before getting out of the car, you did the same, helping Shizu with your bags as you moved up the driveway. As expected, your introduction to his six little siblings was nothing short of a whirlwind. Though you couldn’t lie, you enjoyed getting to know them over the dinner the mother made. Genya had been the easiest to talk to due to his age, but before you knew it, the youngest of the Shinazugawa siblings was sleeping soundly with his head on your shoulder as you watched a movie with them all. Sanemi sat beside you on the couch, watching his siblings fondly as they talked to you rather than watch the movie. You answered each question with such patience, your hand open because Koto had fallen asleep holding it. Shizu had  joked that he was trying to steal his big brother’s girlfriend. 
It was just past midnight when Genya took Koto from you, the other siblings had gone up to bed a few minutes prior. “It was really nice meeting you, y/n.” Geyna smiled, cheeks rosy because he still got a bit nervous around girls according to Sanemi. “It was lovely meeting you too, Genya. I’m happy to spend the holidays with you all.” Genya turned bright red, earning a laugh from Sanemi as he bid the two of you goodnight and carried Koto to his room. “Well, it’s been an eventful day, do you wanna go to bed?” Sanemi smiled, his arm slinging over your shoulder now that Koto wasn’t hogging you. “I’m beyond tired, so yeah, sleep sounds amazing.” You laugh, snuggling closer to him. It was honestly the opposite of getting up, instead you both settled further into the couch with the tv droning on in front of you. It didn’t take long before your hands wandered, your legs moving to drape over Sanemi’s as he turned to kiss you. The arm he had slung over your shoulder moved to rest behind your head, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. You allowed him, of course, feeling mildly inappropriate for doing such a thing on the couch in the living room of his family’s home. 
You pulled away the moment his hand gripped your thigh, chest heaving. “N-not here. What if one of your siblings or your mother walks down here?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, noticing the way the light from the tv still manages to reflect off of the ball of his piercing. “You’re right… but my bedroom wall is shared with another one of my siblings… this is really the only place we can be a bit loud…” he groans, getting off of you just a bit so he can look at you better. “I-I’d rather try and be quiet than get caught in the act.” You would be booking yourself a train ticket home if one of his little siblings saw you two being intimate. “Alright fine, but you better be quiet.” Sanemi smirks at you as he gets up, “oh that’s a bold statement coming from you.” You snorted, getting up and turning the TV off before following him upstairs to his room. You had seen it already since you took some time after dinner to unpack your clothes and put them in Sanemi’s dresser. There was nothing for you to investigate as you stepped inside, shutting and locking the door with a soft click as Sanemi flicked on his bedside lamp. “Genya usually sleeps with a noise machine, so as long as we put some background noise on too…” 
Sanemi was already pulling his shirt over his head as he spoke, watching as you sauntered to the dresser to find something to sleep in… or rather, you were looking for something to put on in the morning. “Background noise? Don’t tell me you’re going to put on music, that makes it all the more obvious.” You laugh softly, pulling your shirt over your head and shamelessly unclipping your bra, no need for extra distractions. “No, not music but…” Suddenly white noise was blasting through a small speaker and you found yourself bursting into a fit of laughter. “How sexy” you choked, dropping your pants and underwear at the same time. “Oh I know. My best work yet.” He was standing, making his way over to you as he pushed his sweats down. Your eyes flickered lower, smirking when you realized he was already hard. “You’re relentless.” you breathe out, his hands clinging to your waist as he presses you to the dresser, kissing you deeply. Sanemi smiles against your lips, stepping out of his pants and boxers that have pooled at his feet. “You know you love it.” Hoarse, just above a whisper despite the blaring white noise filling the room. You don’t bother answering, rather you push him gently so you can drop to your knees below him. 
Your hand gingerly grabs his base, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip as he braces himself on the dresser. “Fuck…” He chokes out, eyes flickering up to the mirror before him, mildly upset he can’t see past his waist. Just your head is visible as you begin to lick along his shaft. “Remember you have to keep quiet.” You shoot him a wink before enveloping the head of his cock, watching his head fall forward as he chokes on his own moans. You let your jaw go slack, taking half of him before pulling away, using the saliva that wet him as a lubricant. You pumped him steadily, running your tongue along his slit, collecting the salty precum that oozed from it. You had gotten to know him well enough over the last month and a half to know exactly what he enjoyed. Naturally that meant it didn’t take all that long before he was grabbing your hair a bit harshly and tugging you off of him, cheeks flushed red as he tried to calm down. “N-not yet.” he sighed, moving towards the bed and motioning for you to follow. “Sit down.” he commanded you gently, watching you crawl onto the bed and lay flat instead. He chuckled a bit before opening his bedside drawer. “I know we said we wouldn’t exchange any gifts until we got home, but I bought something with me…” You sat up now, eyes narrowing as he pulled out a small pouch. 
“What the fuck.” you laughed, catching the small velvet pouch and opening it carefully. Inside was a pill shaped tongue ring, immediately you understood. Your face grew warm, mouth hanging open slightly as you plucked it out. “No you fucking didn’t…” You took it out of the even smaller plastic bag and twisted it until it began to vibrate. “Sanemi oh my fucking–” You instantly turned it off, looking at him utterly flabbergasted. “Oh I fucking did.” He pulled it out of your hand, moving over to the dresser so he could use the mirror and take out his current tongue ring to replace it with the vibrating one. “You’re evil.” you groaned, body reacting tenfold to the idea of what was to come. He could only huff out a laugh as he stuck his tongue out, twisting the vibrating stud into place. “You’ll have to be very quiet.” He smirked, wiping the saliva off of his fingers. “You planned this…” You couldn’t believe it, not even as he crawled onto the mattress and pressed you backward until your head hit the pillows. “Oh of course I did, think of it as a reward for doing so well today, I’m proud of you, you know.” Your brows furrowed. “I appreciate it but this is such a strange time to get sentimental.” You watched his shoulders shake as he laughed, head burying in your neck to kiss it softly. He wouldn’t leave any hickeys in plain sight, at least not while you were staying here. 
“Can’t help it.” He muttered between each kiss he placed, not getting rougher until he hit your chest. Your hands immediately grabbed his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he bit down on your breast. You had come to learn that you enjoyed the pain it brought, along with the satisfaction of his teeth indents remaining for a couple days. He lapped at the skin he bit, kissing it gently as he moved to flick your nipple with his tongue. Part of you was tempted to say foreplay wasn’t needed, sucking him off as well as the revelation of his “present” were enough to have you dripping for him. “You know, we have to be careful because there is really no way to explain why we needed to immediately change your bedding after one night.” One hand moves up to thread itself through his hair while his tongue drags its way over to your other breast. Sanemi only hummed in agreement, debating whether or not he should turn the vibrating piercing on now while he teased you or let your anticipation build until the last second. In the end he decided to wait, you should get to experience it first hand where you wanted it most. 
When he was satisfied with the markings he left on your chest, Sanemi placed another kiss on your lips before moving down to settle himself between your legs. You couldn’t bring yourself to look down in fear of the noises you knew you’d make, so you kept your eyes trained on the ceiling, mentally preparing yourself for what was to come. Sanemi’s tongue lapped at your inner thighs, pleased to see your arousal had already managed to smear across them. “You’re so excited, how cute.” It was so soft you barely heard it, but you still felt the need to find grounding in the sheets below you. You gripped them tightly, bracing yourself for the “final blow” of sorts. He cleaned you gingerly before placing open mouth kisses over your folds, eyes trained on the rise and fall of your chest as his tongue just barely swept across your cunt. He repeated these motions a couple of times, until your thighs spread further in an attempt to give him more. “Okay, pretty girl…” He gave you a slight warning before sticking his tongue out, twisting one end of the pill shaped tongue ring until it began to vibrate. Your breathing hitched at the sound, just audible enough to be heard through the white noise you had going. 
Sanemi found the sensation to be a bit odd, his whole tongue felt like it was vibrating due to the small object. Though, it excited him at the same time, hands moving to hold your legs open as he carefully placed his mouth over your clit. His eyes remained locked on you as he pressed his tongue against your throbbing cunt. Your hand immediately smacked over your mouth as you gasped and moaned at the same time, the vibrations going straight through your body. When he didn’t move his tongue, you began to squirm, hand pressing tightly to your mouth as muffled moans and whimpers clawed their way out of you. Sanemi waited until he felt like you were about to come before pulling his tongue away and eagerly lapping at the rest of your cunt, purposely avoiding your clit until you were getting wetter with each pass of his tongue over your entrance. Your hand never let go of the sheets, nor did your other hand ever leave your mouth. Your thighs trembled at certain points with the effort of trying to close but Sanemi’s grip alone proved to be stronger than your trembling effort. It wasn’t until tears were leaking down your cheeks, your head tossed back as your moans grew louder even behind the muffling of your hand, that Sanemi gave in and paid more attention to your clit. 
“I-I’m gonna… f-fuck.” You repeated the last word over and over, the build up in your gut growing almost too intense to handle as he pressed the pill shaped piercing directly on your clit and kept it in place. The vibrations paired with the wet warmth of his mouth proved to be a lethal combination. You nearly reached for the pillow behind you to muffle the loud sobs that wracked your body as you came on his tongue. Sanemi didn’t move away immediately, holding it in place still as the overstimulation grew to be almost painful. You began to sob, begging him in a voice just above a whisper to ease up but he didn’t. Your legs trembled, unable to fight against him considering he was far more stable than you were right now. After an agonizing few seconds, the overstimulation turned to pleasure again, your cunt twitching violently as a second orgasm arrived from the shockwaves of your first. You swore louder than you should have, stars spotting your vision as you came hard for the second time. “S-Sanemi please I’m fucking serious y-you…” But you couldn’t finish the sentence, not when he started wiggling his tongue before moving it away to lap up all the juices you had spilled. 
The piercing was still vibrating as Sanemi’s tongue licked along your cunt, giving your clit a break as he teased you in other areas. You were breathing heavily as he used two fingers to spread you open, making it more accessible to push his tongue inside of you. While it couldn’t reach nearly as deep as his dick, the vibrations were making up for it. Your jaw immediately clenched, struggling desperately to keep the noises down as he began tongue fucking you. Your vision was growing blurry from the way your eyes began to water, Sanemi’s name leaving your lips in a quiet mantra as you forced yourself to remain quiet when you really wanted to scream. Yet the idea of being caught seemed to egg Sanemi on, his mouth was relentless as he ate you out like it was his last meal. As if he was trying to break you, make you scream and wake up the whole house. You began to squirm further as two fingers slipped in along with his tongue, the feeling itself was utterly indescribable. Calloused fingers ran along your heated walls, scissoring and pumping until they brought out wave after wave of your arousal with them. You had barely noticed the fact that Sanemis tongue had pulled away all together, watching in fascination as arousal pooled below you on his bedding. So much for keeping it clean… he found it satisfying. 
 The realization that his mouth wasn’t on you didn’t hit you until it had returned to your clit, your back arching off the mattress momentarily as he flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit. His fingers pumped endlessly, his tongue working in rhythm until you were slapping both hands over your mouth in effort to keep quiet as you came for a third time. Your body had gone completely stiff, back arching and your head tossed back as warm liquid gushed from between your thighs, only encouraged by Sanemi’s fingers. This time, Sanemi pulled away all together to give you a minute to come down. His fingers fumbled for a moment as he tried to turn off the small vibrating piercing, admiring the mess you had made on his bed. By the time your vision had returned to normal, you were looking up at Sanemi with lidded eyes. “You’re so evil.” Your voice is hoarse, hands shaking a bit as you push yourself up to see the damage. “Fuck…” Sanemi didn’t seem bothered at all, rather he was leaning down to crash his lips against yours, forcing you to taste your own arousal on his tongue. You moved closer, immediately drawn back into whatever trance he always managed to pull you into. 
“How do you want me?” Sanemi sounded breathless as he pulled away, smiling down at you. “Like this please…” You turned away, positioning yourself shamelessly on your hands and knees for him. Sanemi groaned softly, he’d never get tired of seeing you like this, with nothing to hide or be ashamed of because it was just him. His hand immediately found his dick, pumping himself carefully to spread his precum, still a bit sensitive from the orgasm he had denied himself of early. His other hand came down to grip one side of your ass, kneading the flesh roughly. You whined loudly as the dull head of his cock pressed into you, your cunt welcoming him greedily with how wet he had made you. You chose this position strategically, pillows and his mattress were at your disposal to muffle your noises. Sanemi took his time, pushing inside of you inch by inch until your ass met his abdomen. It still took you a second to adjust, his head pressing tightly to your cervix, making you want to crawl forward a bit to relieve the pressure. Sanemi knew you well enough by now to hold your hip with his other hand, that way you couldn’t move. Sanemi is careful to not let his emotions get the better of him, you had done such a good job trying to remain quiet, now it was his turn to do the same. 
He leaned forward, placing open mouth kisses down your spine before straightening again, hips drawing back half way before sliding forward again. He started slow, finding his rhythm in slow and deep thrusts. Your body rocks forward with each movement, until your shaky arms give out beneath you and you fall into the mattress. The position is even better in Sanemi’s eyes, his hands immediately grabbing either side of your hips to angle himself better. The slow drag was intoxicating to you, your mouth parted as quiet whimpers slipped past your lips, drool seeping out of the corner of your mouth as all your energy was focused on keeping your lower half up. Sanemi’s teeth sunk into his lower lip, face dusted pink as his head fell forward to watch himself disappear and reappear inside of you. You could feel him twitching, nearly in time with the way your body involuntarily clenched around him. Your whimpers turned into moans, half muffled by the way your face was pressed into the mattress, arousal dripping down your thighs. Sanemi was groaning despite his efforts to remain quiet, hips speeding up as his pleasure pulsed through him. He wasn’t going to last long at all but he wasn’t all that bothered by it. 
“Sanemi…” You whined quietly, clit throbbing in need despite the stimulation you had been given. He caught on, hand snaking around your front and disappearing between your legs. You hissed as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it just as you had wanted him too but quickly reminded of how overstimulated you were. “Oh fuck…” You slurred, head burying in the mattress as you practically sobbed. Sanemi didn’t stop, biting down harder on his lower lip in effort to silence the noises he was making, but it was increasingly difficult with the noises emitting from you. The build up in your gut is becoming nearly unbearable, your hands clawing at the sheets as you cried out into the mattress below you. You came hard around him, walls stuttering around his length and interrupting his rhythm. Though it was the final push he needed, unable to contain himself as his hips drew half way out as he began to cum, shakily they pushed forward, bottoming out completely. His grip on your hips loosened, his muscles feeling like jelly as he moved to sit on his knees. You were pliant in his grasp, letting him guide you into a position that was comfortable for both of you until he felt like pulling out. 
“We… we got carried away.” his tone is soft, for the first time since he turned it on, he noticed the white noise he was playing. You pulled your face from the mattress, shakily wiping your mouth as you tried to turn to look at him. “You think?” your voice is shaky, all you wanted was sleep at this point but there was one issue. “The bed is a wreck.” He comments softly, finally realizing how damp the comforter was beneath his knees. “That’s your fault, I warned you.” You grimace, there was no way you were going to be able to sleep feeling as sticky as you did. “You got me there…” he laughs softly, slowly pulling out as he goes soft. “I take full responsibility for giving you a good time.” You roll your eyes, body aching as you roll over and move to sit up. “I’m going to shower, you figure out the bed… and no joining me this time.” It had become a habit at this point for Sanemi to take care of the ruined bedding and then join you in the shower after. “Why not?” he whined, a pout forced on his lips as you glared at him. “May I remind you we are at your family’s home? With your mother and siblings?” You hissed, trying to remain serious but failing miserably when his cheeks turned pink. “Did you really forget that fast?” 
“No! Shit okay maybe a little.” You roll your eyes, moving about the room to find something to cover yourself so you can walk down the hall to the bathroom. “Don’t forget to take out that piercing, it’s a bit obvious.” He laughs as you say that, watching as you throw his shirt over your head. “Yeah, yeah I know. I’ll take care of everything but if we aren’t sharing a shower, make sure you’re quick.” It was his last little dig to maybe convince you to let him join. Instead you just nod, uttering a quiet “You got it, captain.” before heading out the door. You make your way down the hall, wondering quietly how he would be able to get new bedding on the bed without raising suspicions from his mother in the morning.
Naturally, you figured it would be impossible and the small woman would tease you endlessly. The thought had heat rushing to your cheeks as you flicked the lights on and shut the door behind you. It took you a second but you managed to figure out the shower, setting it to a comfortable temperature before moving towards the bathroom closet. Sure enough, the closet was stocked with towels of various colors and some even had designs printed on them. That made you chuckle, especially when you noticed a few famous cartoon characters on some. How cute.  
You pulled a towel out of the closet and set it on the bathroom counter, carefully pulling Sanemi’s shirt over your head and dropping it in the hamper. You had to admit, showering alone was quite lonely but it cut your time in half. You managed to scrub your skin clean, wash your hair and condition within fifteen minutes. By the time you stepped out and wrapped the towel around your body, Sanemi was knocking at the door. “Shit I wasn’t fast enough.” His tone was a whisper, making you laugh softly as you pulled the bathroom door open. “Better luck next time.” You pat his shoulder as you walk past him, ignoring his little huff as you re-enter his bedroom.
The bed was made with a new comforter, tucked half way down so you could just slip into it. You placed your towel on the dresser, moving to put on a t-shirt and underwear before towel drying your hair the best you could. You were practically throwing yourself down onto the bed, laughing softly when you realized the white noise was still playing. You managed to stay awake until Sanemi returned, hair damp as he went through his dresser to put on a pair of boxers. You watched with half lidded eyes as he placed the novelty piercing back in the back and put his regular one back in. “Do you want to keep the white noise on?” He looked amused as you nod.
Sanemi turned off the lights before crawling into bed beside you, chuckling softly as he realized how small the bed was compared to the one in your shared apartment. Not that you really minded, immediately rolling over to wrap your arms around his midsection lazily. Your legs tangled together, his arm snaking under your head while the other found its home over your waist. “What did you end up doing with your bedding?” you question softly, sleep pulling at your mildly aching body. “I put it in the wash, which may just be more damning for us in the morning but hopefully my Ma is the only one to catch on.” He chuckles softly, as you groan.
“What a great first impression.” you snort into his chest, unable to stop your smile when you feel his chest rumble under your cheek. “Oh please, you can do no wrong in her eyes, she loves you.” You couldn’t deny that, after less than a day being in her presence, Shizu was already like a mom to you. “I suppose you’re right.” You hum lazily, eyes closing as sleep drags you further down. “Good night, pretty girl.” Sanemi whispered softly, feeling your body relaxing into him. “G’night, lover boy.” just barely audible, as if your mind was working on autopilot. Sanemi smiled, eyes shutting as well, enveloped in the warmth you and his childhood bedroom had to offer.
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bunni-v1 · 10 days ago
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What do we have here…?
🍓Couldn’t get sending Harumasa nudes out of my head and then I saw @mini-ism post about Caesar going through Livhters phone and had Jimmy Neutron Brain blast. (My moots are so awesome and talented and everyone should give them love). Like... what DO they have on their phone, if anything? So that's what this is. Also took this as my chance to write for my favorite straight white cat boy Seth.
Tw: Nsfw; recording during sex; rough sex (all); somnophilia (Harumasa); breeding kink (Seth); bottom harumasa and seth; Mommy kink (seth); grammar errors (inevitable)
Info: Fem bodied reader (no pronouns i think? use of mommy though); Harumasa x Reader; Lighter x Reader; Seth x Reader; I tried to add plot but who am I kidding this is porn
Harumasa Asaba
The first time Asaba Harumasa asked to record you during sex, you declined. He'd wanted it so he could use it at work, during those days that he really needed you most. It's not like you were shy about your body, especially not with him. He'd seen you naked a million times and done more than just admire your body on numerous occasions. You just didn't want to do it, not with the risk of his very important friends possibly seeing them. The idea of sweet Sokaku sneaking on his phone and somehow finding the videos was mortifying, to say the least. The consequences afterward would probably be even worse, you'd never be able to look Yanagi in the eyes again.
So, you told him no, and who is Asaba to press you on something like that. Feminism was hot, or whatever. He just wanted to see what he could get away with. Little did he know he planted a seed in your brain that kept on growing and growing until, one night, you asked him if he was still into the whole recording you thing.
He wanted to say "No fucking duh." But instead, he smiled and nodded all cute-like, "Oh? I thought you didn't want to? Don't tell me you've been holding out on me now..." And thus began your unexpected obsession with making amateur porn.
Harumasa isn't an idiot, of course, he keeps everything in a hidden folder within a hidden folder, accessible via a password only he knows. (He would give up any chance at living a long life to keep Sokaku as far away from his porn stash as possible). It's surprisingly well organized, coming from him at least. Categorized by type (picture and videos), who was topping, and which kinks you indulged in.
His personal favorites, though, are saved in a separate folder within those already existing folders. They're his go-to when he's feeling so very pent up at work and needs release fast enough that Yanagi won't come looking for him. Like right now, the phone under the desk and the volume just loud enough that only he could make it out by straining his ears. A little treat for his hard work today.
The first one starts out with shaky camera work -- you'd grabbed and started recording in a hurry like you realized this one would make good content for him. (You were right, as usual). The sun is peaking through the curtains of his dark apartment, and with the light, he can just barely make out his sleeping face. You pan the camera down, and one of your hands is gently tracing along his slowly hardening cock, already free and begging for you to suck it. It jumps in your hand as you rub the tip, and then all of a sudden the camera flips and he gets to see your face. You have eyebags under your eyes and your hair is sticking out in several places with little bruises littering your collarbones. Just how he likes you. Shuffling follows and the camera jerks around awkwardly until it rests on his abdomen and refocuses on you, dick still in hand and eyes blinking innocently at the camera.
You tap the tip against your cheek a few times, Harumasa's hips pressing up into your hand as you do so. You smile a little at him offscreen, and it's almost affectionate until you swallow him down in one go. What you can't fit in your mouth you fist with your hand, bobbing in a perfectly trained rhythm that he knows would have him seeing stars. His hips awkwardly jerk, but you take him so well that it doesn't even bother you. The camera shifts again as Harumasa himself begins to wake up. A confused, "Oh fuck," is moaned out in the background, just barely audible over the heavenly sound of you sucking and swallowing him up. Then, your eyes flutter up, right as a hand fists its way into your hair. The video cuts shortly after that, leaving the rest of it up to his impeccable memory.
The next one is a bit longer, and honestly humiliating for him, but he can't get enough of it. Again you're holding the camera, but this time he is awake. It starts with your hand on his ass, marked with the harsh imprint of your strikes, bright and red and sure to bruise (it did). You make sure to get a good angle of yourself pounding him into the sheets, the sounds of squelching mixed with incoherent babbling from him something sinful. You glide your hand over his bare back, camera following along, then tug on his fluffy black hair. He lets out a pathetic whine as you push the camera into his fucked out face. Cheeks red, drool dripping down his chin, eyes watery and unfocused. It's all he can do to answer you when you finally ask, "You were a good boy today, weren't you Harumasa? Tell the camera how good you were today."
"Yessss, 'm a very good boy~" He hiccups out through your harsh thrusts.
You coo at him, pressing a little kiss to his cheek which gets him smiling like a moron in the video, "You know what good boys get to do, right?"
He visibly jolts in the frame, right as you wrap your pretty fingers around his swollen cock just out of frame. A whorish moan leaves his mouth as you pick up the pace, determined to make him cum. His whole face twists in pleasure as he cries out your name, releasing all over your fingers and the sheets. The camera flips, and you're giggling as you spread the covered hand playfully for the camera. "Such a good boy~" You hum, and the video cuts as you begin sucking each finger clean.
The last one he has, which is the only one where he's holding the camera, is his personal favorite. You're in the Section 6 office, legs spread out and perched wobbly on the arms of his desk chair. Miyabi, Yanagi, and Sokaku were all out for lunch and you'd been so sweet to bring him the one he'd 'accidentally' forgotten at home. His pace was fast and rough as he slammed into you. He preferred taking things slow, but even he had to admit he liked the thrill of a quicky in such an open area. One hand comes down to hold your thigh at a different angle, and you let out the squeakiest excuse for his name he'd ever heard. "I thought you didn't want them to see you like this... you're awfully contradictory~" He teases from behind the camera, not that you have it in you to do anything but whine at him. "What would Miyabi think of you..." He tuts, "and poor Tsukishiro might have a heart attack... how shameless can you be?"
He zooms in on your face, head thrown back and mouth stuck wide open with empty gasps just begging to become moans. Your body shakes as his thrusts become less fast and more rough, skin slapping against skin in the quiet office on the very desk he was scrolling through his phone. He can see his name form on your lips.
"Harumasa," Came Yanagi's voice instead, he jumps, quickly locking his phone and slipping it into his pocket, "I understand paperwork is boring, but scrolling on your phone is-"
"Unacceptable, I know," He sighs, "I'm getting to it I promise. Just... right after a quick bathroom break, okay?"
He's up and gone before she can respond, already deciding which video he should watch to fix his little issue. Oh! Or he could ask you for a new one right now, it'd been a minute since he'd gotten you masturbating.
Lighter Lorenz
Lighter didn't get the appeal of it at first. Why would he settle for videos and pictures when the real thing was so much better? Just didn't make sense to him, but sure, he'd let you do what you want. You were damn adorable with how excited you got when he said yes to another video or picture.
It wasn't until an extended period of time away from you that he realized how badly he was missing out. He was horny and you were too far away to do anything about it and no matter what he imagined he could not get off for the life of him. So, he caves and asks you to send one of those videos you'd made. It was probably the fastest he'd cum by himself since getting with you.
Lighter admits defeat, you were right, those videos are something else. Not nearly as good as the real thing, but close enough when he needed it. He's very selective about what does and does not get filmed though. There are some moments he wants to keep just between the two of you, no cameras or anything like that. However, once he gets into it he really gets into it, and those videos are cinema for amateur pornstars.
He keeps the videos and pictures in an unlabeled folder on his phone, not nearly as meticulous about hiding it as Harumasa or Seth might be. He didn't have the risk factor, the girls wouldn't go through his phone without asking first, and he wasn't careless enough to leave it out for others to dig through its contents. He also wasn't stupid enough to look through his little stash with others around, always waiting until he was completely isolated to look.
You were out for the night doing something or another for someone, too kind for your own good, leaving only Lighter and his hand to keep his dick company. He clicks open the folder, smiling to himself when he's met with pretty pictures of you.
He scrolls a bit, then clicks on a more recently recorded one. The camera is focused on your stomach, just low enough that he can see the flared red tip of his dick teasing your swollen clit. A deep chuckle sounds from behind the camera, followed by a grumpy little whine from you. He takes the hint, sliding his tip down and slowly dipping it into your drooling cunt. You let out the cutest squeal as he stretches you out, his hips angling up so his cock presses against your tummy.
The camera zooms in on the outline of his tip, pressing just below your navel. You babble something incoherent, and Lighter hums like it's the most interesting thing in the world. His calloused hand comes into view, tracing the outline with a low hiss. "Fuck, you feel me inside baby?" You mumble something out again, a much smaller hand sliding under his. He presses down as you trace a finger over him, and a whorish moan leaves your mouth. He ruts himself into you, hand pressing down so both of you could feel just how deep inside he was. Your body trembles with each hard thrust, and the camera work gets shakier and shakier the louder Lighter gets until it stops altogether after an annoyed groan — literally thrown across the room so he could focus more on you.
The next one he picks among a sea of delicacies is an older one, one of the first he'd agreed to make with you. The camera is set up on the nightstand, angled nicely so he could see your pretty tits bouncing with each thrust of his hips up into yours. You're wearing his scarf around your neck, and you look like sex incarnate hopping up and down on him.
His veiny hands grab at your hips, guiding each movement with careful precision. You're leaned back, head thrown to the sky as you call his name like a mantra. Each thrust makes your voice peak a little higher, the only thing louder being the slap of wet skin on skin. One particularly rough thrust has you keening, falling forward to press your sweaty face to his just out of frame. He can see your hips roll desperately into his own for all of a few seconds before his hands wrap around your thighs to hoist you up so he can bully his cock into your abused pussy. The whole bed shakes as the headboard slams into the wall, the camera tumbling to the ground forgotten as it records your brainless sobs over the sound of his brutal pace. A weird habit he’s noticed consistently in these videos.
He's close, he can feel it, as he strokes himself a little faster. Just needed the perfect thing to push him over the edge. He taps one of your personal favorites, citing it as 'the most fun' for you to film. In it, he is holding the camera down, you're kneeling between his legs, head resting on his thigh as your deft fingers play with his member. You smile up at him, sliding the bead of precum around the tip like a game.
He's huge in your hand, and it's a miracle you manage to fit your slim fingers around his fat cock. Slowly stroking down, then back up, your thumb sure to run over that vein that made his toes curl. You keep a steady pace, teasing him with the sweetest grin on your face.
"Feelin' good baby?" You purr up at him, amused at what is likely a very red faced Lighter.
There's an audible swallow, and the camera shakes as he answers, "Real good. Takin' good care 'f me."
You giggle, satisfied with the answer enough to lean down and start sucking on his balls. Your other hand scraped against his thigh, the muscles beneath tensing at the sensation. The sound of your sucking, mixed in with his little whimpers has him cumming prematurely, not that it stops him from fucking his hand through his orgasm. The video continues on like that, you teasing him to the edge and denying him his orgasm like a monster. Unlike then, he had quiet the mess to clean up now.
He thinks better of just cleaning it up, though. Instead snapping a quick picture and sending it to you with a little, 'Miss you.'
Seth Lowell
Seth is an incredibly polite, considerate, sweetheart who would never in a million years dream of asking to record you during sex. He might just be the most vanilla guy in all of New Eirdu, and recording seems... a little violating of your privacy. It's not something he considers an option.
Until one day, after a very long week where you and Seth hadn't seen each other for more than a few hours thanks to his work schedule. He's lying in the dorms, texting you about mundane tasks when you throw out how much you miss him. He obviously misses you too, and says so. You ask him if he would like to see how much you miss him, and the sweet thing he is the undertone goes right over his head. He expects a picture of you maybe pouting, doing something you would typically do together by yourself.
When he opens it he's greeted by you, two fingers deep in your own cunt, pretty juices glistening in the dim lighting of your bedroom -- oh god is that his shirt you're wearing? He short circuits, literally just staring slack-jawed at the phone for god knows how long until one of his buddies comes in and starts poking fun at him. He slams the phone down, and he makes it home in record time. That was all the convincing he needed from you to record your (rather basic) sexual escapades.
Seth does not save the videos, ever. They're all in your text chain, pinned there for easy access, but he refuses to keep them in his album. Way too risky for him with his family and his coworkers and... well... knowing himself. They're really only there for you, he doesn't have any free time to watch them and get off. He does, however like watching them when he's alone in the dorms for the night. Just a nice reminder of what he'll be doing next time he sees you.
Like this one, where the camera is pointed down on him, red-faced and teary-eyed as you ride him like no tomorrow. His chest is littered with little purple love bites, and your fingers splay out across them as you roll your hips deliciously against him. He whimpers in the video, shying away from the camera. The hand on his chest reaches over to flick his already too-hard nipple, twisting it a little. A giggle bubbles out of your chest when he keens.
"You like it when I ride you, don't you Seth...?" You coo, tracing your fingers over to the other nipple to give it attention. He nods with a whine, biting back his moans. You pinch him harshly as punishment, "Use your words."
He sighs, humiliated at the degradation, but swallows his pride and responds, "Yes Mommy."
He grimaces at his own voice, quickly closing out of the video to find something a little less... vocal. He settles on one where the camera is pointed down, you're wearing pretty blue lingerie. In this one, he's between your legs, ears flattened back as he gives you little kitten licks to your sensitive bud. The rough texture of his tongue makes your legs twitch, nearly closing on him, but fighting themselves back open.
He looks up to the camera, or more so past it, to look at you just begging for approval. Your hand comes into the frame, rubbing at one of his ears encouragingly. He lights up, taking the sign as his chance to swallow you down. He dives in like a kitten into milk, slurping and sucking with your hand guiding his movements. Your little sighs of approval get his tail curling up in the air behind him. Your little happy kitty, servicing you like the queen you are. “Good boy~” You coo so sweetly, and his tail twitches excitedly behind him.
He smiles fondly at the phone, was it weird to find it more cute than hot. Maybe he was too lovestruck. It didn't matter too much to him as he found one that you had favorited in the chat. He... didn't remember this one at all from the thumbnail, it got him curious.
The first thing he's greeted by is you face down in the sheets, his pale hand pushing your head into the pillows. Then he hears the wet slapping of skin, the camera following down to show where he was fucking you from behind. His entire abdomen is literally shimmering with a mix of your and his cum, the sticky white substance quite literally all over your back and his hands now that he was looking.
This was... he can't believe he had the mental capacity to think to record himself fucking you during his heat. His cock stirs in his pants, but he's too curious to stop watching before he screws himself over too much. The camera shifts as he leans over you, giving it a perfect view as he bites into the back of your neck. Your face is stained with tears, and your mouth is wide open with pleasure -- no sound escaped though, and Seth realizes that he'd fucked your throat raw in this video.
"Gonna fuck you full of my kits, wanna make you a real Mommy. That's okay, right? You wanna have my babies too don't you?" his rough voice mumbles into your skin, and you only nod in response, too fucked out to really do anything else.
He thinks the video will end there, but instead, the camera pulls up again as Seth pulls out. A broken, muted wail leaves you at the loss, but Seth ignores it in favor of recording your used pussy. Globs of cum leak out of it, down your thighs, and Seth's nimble fingers scoop it up and shove it back inside like in a trance. He clicks his phone off at that, way too flustered at the sight.
A frustrated sigh leaves his lips as he falls back into the uncomfortable bedding of the dorm. Great, now he was rock-hard and had no way of getting off. He had work in two hours, but there was no way he'd be getting any sleep like this. He frowns at his lock screen, a picture of the two of you together. You wouldn't mind if he came home and interrupted your rest that much, would you?
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doctorho · 18 days ago
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dripping velvet, purring dark
Academy era Viktor x fem! curvy reader, 4.5k, no warnings only love in this house (ok there is a conversation about some people being idiots which can be interpreted as the reader getting unwanted attention at a party but it's nothing graphic or anything i promise and no-one is mean to her) also i made viktor horny and slightly subby because that's what the gremlins in my brain wanted. you're welcome. yeah! hi! not sure what this is, but here you go. the reader is described as she/her here (and curvy, and soft, and she is wearing an evening gown, because i wanted to think about pretty dresses). idk. have a thing. happy friday.
Viktor likes to think of himself as a person who's usually capable of focusing on things pretty well. On the task at hand. Give him a faulty circuit and he'll poke at it long enough to find the broken component, no problem. An error in the calculations? He'll find that missing minus sign or forgotten exponent, easy. He'll strip a wire in his sleep.
The task at hand now, though? The problem?
He had to sit through a whole evening of presentations at the academy end-of-year party, put on a polite face for the investors, and pretend not to care that one idiot after another was lining up to flirt with you while he was watching from the sidelines. You were wearing a dress that felt sinful to look at, and there was something primitive gnawing at the inside of his chest begging to be let out, and he had to just stand there and nod through the conversations, pretend he wasn't slowly boiling from the inside out.
And he was failing miserably. 
He’d known he was in trouble from the moment he saw you that night – all expensive fabric covering smooth curves and soft-looking skin, sparkling eyes and easy smiles, and he’d been done for. Before this, it’d been much easier to compartmentalize his feelings; before this, it'd been easier to ignore them. 
Before he’d kept his distance, emotionally and physically speaking, because, well, it’d been easier. He'd seen you around the Academy, all bubbling laughs and raw-honest radiant smiles and confident solutions, and he'd known that you looked…appealing, but he wasn't in the habit of holding up any illusions about what you might think of him in return. His place was in the dark dusty corner of the lab, turning over the ever-ticking problems, while you were out there shining like the sun. And sometimes you came by the lab, with new ideas or suggestions or just to borrow some equipment or ask about a shipment, and he had resigned to his role of staying at his desk pretending he wasn't burning to be closer to your orbit. 
But when he sees you in the low lighting of the party, leaning to the bar and laughing, something just breaks in him. And then he can’t pretend to ignore it any longer. And sure, maybe he’s a little bit drunk, it was easier to stand these events that way, but it still feels like a solid-honest truth in his bones that he wanted to get closer to you, and suddenly he couldn’t stand the conversation he was in the middle of. Because one of them – the sour idiots he’d catalogued in his head for the whole night, the stupid people trying to impress you with their embellished stories and inherited wealth who weren’t worth your time – one of them was circling you like a hyena again, smiling.
You were wearing a dark, floor-length gown that wasn’t, on a purely technical level, much different from what about 50% of the other guests were wearing. However, it seemed to create a significant caveat that even though there wasn’t anything indecent in the dress itself, seeing it on you made him feel like maybe he shouldn’t look at you for too long or he might spontaneously combust. There was a slit on the side that revealed a more than generous amount of leg when you walked, and his focus kept wandering from that to your silhouette, the soft curve of your hips, your chest, your face – no, that’s worse, don’t stare, she'll notice – and truly, he had to force himself to keep his eyes at least vaguely on the vicinity of the person who was currently talking to him. Something about statistics and return investment. Yes. 
He nods, pretending to look interested.
The dress drapes over your hips in soft little cascades, the fabric shimmering lightly as you moved, and something in his brain was itching, begging to run his fingers over it, to know what it feels like, to know what you feel like under it, all soft and warm and pliable under his fingers, and preferably sighing something into the crook of his neck, and–
“We'd like to get our investment back within a year,” the guy that's talking to him says – Viktor can't even remember his name, and he doesn’t really even care – and he just shifts his eyes back to the guy slowly. 
“A year?” he repeats, with the barest amount of feigned interest, and the guy goes off in a whole new tangent. Viktor shifts his posture, and lets his eyes glide over to where you were again. 
One of those idiots, one he thankfully doesn’t have the displeasure of knowing personally but who must be the son of some crooked diplomat, says something to you and you scoff through a smile, roll your eyes, and lean further into the counter at the bar. Viktor has to pretend to be present for his own conversation – yes, the new coating material for the wires was more heat-resistant, no, there was still the issue of mechanical stress, they were working on it – and you say something in answer to the current idiot (third of the night, he’d counted), and it is killing him that he doesn’t know what it is. 
You’d turned down the first two, from what he could tell. But this latest idiot was still talking to you, like he was in any way entitled to your company. And it's making something inside Viktor raise its hackles, and he doesn’t especially like feeling like that, because he couldn't justify feeling like that to himself in any tangible way, and then it all just boiled down to a resigned even if she deserves better than that i have no business dictating that for her. 
He's just about to focus on the conversation he was supposedly participating in again when something happens. He can't make out the details, but imbecile number three seems to lean way too close to you, says something, and smiles in a way that makes something cold creep down the back of Viktor's neck. And your expression coldens, too, and you say something to him, and turn away, more rigid than you'd been the whole evening. 
“Excuse me,” Viktor is saying to the Investment Guy before he can fully think it through, his own voice feeling distant in his ears, and then he's walking to the bar. 
You're alone – the idiot had had the sense to leave you alone quickly, at least. That's good. Viktor isn't sure what he's doing, but then he's leaning to the bar next to you and ordering another drink and trying to look like he isn't thinking too hard about what to do next. 
“Whatever he just proposed to you,” Viktor says slowly, looking over the bar instead of directly at you, “I assure you you can do better.”
He can hear you take a deep breath, shift a little, and sigh it out with what sounded like almost a laugh. 
“Yeah,” you agree, “I don't know what it is about people like that that makes them think they can just…” You sigh again, and make a hand gesture towards the room. ”You know.”
“Unfortunately,” he answers, resigned, “yes. I do.” 
He gets his drink and thanks the bartender, and then leans to the counter too, mimicking your posture, holding the drink and letting it swirl around in his glass. “Have you talked with anyone actually worth your time tonight?” 
You hmm. Then, “there was a little girl earlier that told me some fascinating things about insect metamorphosis.” You say casually. 
And Viktor laughs. Without meaning to, he laughs, and you smile in response, visibly relaxing a little.
“I don't think she was on the guest list though.” You continue. 
He hums in response, and rearranges his grip on the handle of his cane. “Sounds much more interesting than the conversations I've been in tonight.”
“I know,” you answer, and he can hear the smile in your voice, “you think we could swap out one of the main speakers with her?” 
He hmms again, looking over the stage thoughtfully. “I think it would count as a public service,” he nods a little, considering the list of speakers yet to come, “what do you think, who'd be a good target?”
You shift in your place, looking over the same list of speakers, plastered over the walls on both sides of the stage. “The financial talk,” you answer, “Mr. Ross. I'd much rather listen to insect facts than another boring talk about investing.”
Viktor nods. “You distract him, I'll whack him unconscious?” he offers, and you laugh. You laugh, and it warms something in him. 
“And then what?” you continue, still smiling, and he has to look away to keep his composure. 
He shrugs. “Eh,” he answers, “we drag him to a bathtub somewhere and act like he just passed out there?" He shrugs, "I happen to know three ways to get out of this room that I'm pretty sure we could use unnoticed.”
“Uh-huh,” you answer, “and then we just find the girl and ask her if she wants to talk about bugs for half an hour. Easy.”
“Exactly,” he agrees, “and then we congratulate ourselves for making the evening better for everybody.”
"Except maybe Mr. Ross."
"No," he counters, looking over the crowd, "I think he would prefer a nice little nap. Surely not even he wants to hear himself talk all the time." He takes a sip of his drink, "and I think waking up in a bathtub would be a nice change of pace to the rumors of other places he seems to have a habit of waking up in after events such as these."
“Good point,” you shift in your place, settling to lean to the counter a bit closer to him. “Perfect plan. But why'd you get to whack him unconscious and not me?”
Viktor blinks. Lifts one eyebrow. “Because you are by far more distracting than I am,” he answers, “and I thought the plan could use the distraction.”
“I don't think that's true,” you answer, “I think you're plenty distracting on your own.”
Now, he lets himself look at you. Really, properly look at you, and not even half-trying to hide it. You're smiling now, shoulders relaxed, holding your drink with fingers wrapped loosely around it, and in the warm lights of the bar there's a golden glow on your skin, and something breathless at the bottom of his stomach is aching to get closer to you, to touch you, to see if his hand would fit on your waist as well as he thinks it would, to see how you would react to that, if he could make you smile in a different way, what sounds he could get you to make for him–
“Agree to disagree,” he says, averts his eyes, and takes a sip of his drink. 
Tries to tell that wild-hungry purring thing in him to behave. 
Someone reasonable comes to talk to you – and it's about work, which is…something, probably, he has to stop himself from thinking it's better than those earlier idiots, because who's he to decide that for you? He gives you a casual wave and a nod as you depart with a smile and get swept up in the conversation about new ideas and solutions and this-new-thing you've been looking at. And he watches as you start talking excitedly, all golden and glittering, easy conversation and confident smiles, and quietly (not-so quietly) he concludes that maybe you hadn't had many worthwhile conversations with any of the guests that night because you were the most worthwhile person in there to talk to. 
He stays there sipping his drink and wondering what would be the closest appropriate time to slip out. He'd made an appearance, and technically nothing could be expected from him beyond that point. Sure, Jayce might tell him he could've stayed a bit longer, he could use the support, but nothing dramatic would happen. 
The party drones on, and he makes no effort to move – and really, he tries not to think about it too much, but that was at least in part because he wanted to keep looking at you. He promptly ignores this, even when you're laughing at something someone else said and that heavy-dark-purring something at the bottom of his stomach doesn't like it very much. 
Someone comes to ask for his opinion on something, and with a tiny sigh, he lets them pull him into the loop of conversations again. Yes, we are trying to simplify the design, no we can't cut back from the materials, they are what they are for a reason. 
Somewhere around his third ‘Why would you think that?’ of that particular conversation, he's had enough. People were stupid, and he's had enough. He's just trying to come up with ways to get out of the conversation preferably without starting a scandal of some sort, when he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turns around to look at who it belongs to, and then everything in his head is quiet for a moment. 
“Hey,” you say, smiling, “sorry to interrupt, but can I steal you away for a moment?” you ask, slipping your hand feather-light down his arm, and he has to suppress a shiver. 
Viktor furrows his brows and opens his mouth, and then, like an idiot, says nothing. But he turns to leave, thankful for the window of opportunity.  
“You remember that thing we talked about before?” you continue as you steer him away from the earlier group smoothly, “I found someone who's interested in those three escape routes you had up your sleeve.” 
“Who?” he asks, because that's the only thing he can think of. You've linked your arm with his, and you're leaning on him, and you're soft and warm and you smell good, and he doesn’t trust his ability to form a full sentence. 
“Me,” you answer, “and judging by how you just looked out there,” you continue, “you.”
Viktor swallows, and something in his brain purrs at the idea. 
“This way,” he says, nodding towards an old stage exit, and honestly, he doesn’t even care why you want to leave, he's just grateful for the distraction and the company and drinking in every warm square inch of skin contact that you're willing to give him, even if it is just walking with your shoulder pressed against his. 
If it turned out to be a plot where you actually wanted to whack someone unconscious, he'd worry about that later. For now he was just happy to leave, and happier that you were leaving with him. 
It's easy to slip away from the crowd, and into the space between the stage curtain and the wall, if you know where you're going. You effortlessly fall a bit further from his side but keep his hand on yours, letting him pull you along, and quietly he wonders how and why and holy shit. He decides not to question it though, and keeps walking through the dim space between the cold old wall and the cascades of warm heavy velvet curtains. 
“Do you want to leave the party,” he asks, voice quiet now that the background buzz of people was muffled by the curtain, “or just get away from it?” 
You hmm behind him, clearly through a smile, and he makes the mistake of looking back at you. Surrounded by the dark red velvet curtains and only slivers of light from each side, his head – and the rest of his body – get entirely the wrong idea of what you're doing in there, because you look like a goddess in the small dim space, and he might crumble into ashes if he keeps looking at you, or he might do something stupid like pull you closer and press you into the wall, to see if your eyes would widen, if you'd gasp from the cold wall, if he could find other ways to make you gasp–
so he turns his eyes away and keeps talking. 
He quickly finds he has to clear his throat before he can do that. “There is a staff entrance that goes past the kitchen a little ways further,” he says, and motions forwards, “or there is a disused indoor balcony surrounding the stage. You would be able to see the party, but it'd feel…removed.”
You lean closer, close enough that when your voice is muffled by the surrounding velvet, it feels like you're speaking right in his ear, and he has to swallow and remind himself that that's just situational coincidence, nothing more. 
“Why do you know so many ways to get out of here?” you ask, “You sneak out a lot?” 
“I am a fan of interesting architecture,” he answers, “and not as much a fan of pretentious social gatherings.” 
“Fair,” you answer, then lean your chin on his shoulder, and he feels like his spine might spontaneously melt. “In your expertise, what would you recommend?”
“Well,” he says, trying to make it sound casual and like he wasn't breathless at all, “I think the balcony has some fairly interesting architecture.” And the lights of the party would look pretty from there. And you'd both get a breather away from the crowd. And he'd get to keep talking to you a little bit longer. And, as selfish as the thought felt, he couldn't deny it; he'd get to keep having you to himself for a little bit longer. 
“Show me the balcony,” you smile, and he obliges. Happily, he obliges. So he pulls you into a narrow staircase, and then, up. 
At the end of it there is a room that could, only by technical definition alone, be called a balcony – it was more like a hole carved into the wall, having at some point been used for seating or equipment space at events and concerts, and now just served as half-forgotten extra storage. It had, he supposed, once upon a time looked like the banquet hall did, all smooth surfaces and warm lights and thematically switched-out decorations, but now it was mostly the standard red velvet and dark wood and light marble, forgotten by the party and some of the golden light from the hall spilling into it by pure coincidence. There were velvet curtains on each side of the room, and you drop his hand to go look over the railing, and down at the party. 
His hand instantly feels cold without yours in it, but he tries his best to ignore this, and follows you to look down at the party, too. 
It looks much smaller from up there. Less chaotic. 
“I didn't know there was a space like this here.” You say quietly, “can they see us?” 
“Part of the design,” he answers, “you're not supposed to notice these spaces unless people want you to. Good place to hide extra orchestra pieces and make it feel like the sound is coming from nowhere. And–” he looks over at the people, colorful and mingling, “no, they can't. Not unless you want them to.” Then, he smiles, just a little. “But they'll be able to hear us, if we direct our voices upwards and wait for things to quiet down there first.”
You turn to look at him. 
“Sloped ceilings,” he explains with a shrug, “again, good for a hidden orchestra accompaniment.” 
“But they can't hear us talking?*
“Not over themselves,” he answers, “ironic, I know.”
You hum thoughtfully and turn around, with your back to the railing, and then you look at him and he needs to kick his brain back in line. You were gorgeous in the dim lighting, all relaxed and smiling, and–
He grips the handle of his cane a little tighter. 
“Good,” you say, and the way you say it – all quiet and warm and liquid – makes something in him purr again, entirely against his better judgement. 
“Why is it good?” he asks, because he has to hold on to some semblance of logic here, because otherwise he might just vaporize out into the atmosphere. 
“Why do you think?” you ask, slowly turning to face him, and oh that just isn't fair. You're just there, just a warm breath of space away, all soft and pretty and languid–
He doesn’t know what to say, so he goes with what feels like the safest course of action. 
“In case we want to plot any more ways to violently derail the evening's program?”
You exhale a small laugh and lean back. 
And then you lift a hand on his chest, and he's pretty sure his heart might be overheating soon. 
“Sure,” you answer, “that.” You inch closer, and Viktor is having a hard time remembering how to breathe. “Or anything else we might not want them overhearing.”
“Like?” He exhales, careful not to break the moment, and then you smile, warm and private and for him, and his insides liquify into warm, honey-thick goo, and oh, he’s not going to recover from this. 
“Like,” you repeat slowly, and then you push yourself away from the balcony railing, just slightly, into the side of the wall covered by the velvet curtain, and he lets you pull him with you, he's not stupid. His brain – along with the rest of his body – might be in the process of actively melting, but he's not stupid. If you wanted to pull him into a shadowed, velvet-covered corner, he would follow no questions asked, especially on a night like this when his insides were buzzing and you looked like that. When you looked at him like that. You smile again, and stop moving when your back hits a wall, and then you pull him just close enough to whisper into his ear. “...Anything else we might not want them overhearing.” you repeat, and, yeah, Viktor is close to becoming the best documented case of human combustion in recorded history. 
In the dim lighting, he searches your eyes into his, and you watch him, waiting, radiating heat between him and the velvet-covered wall. He's not sure why you were acting like this, but all signs were pointing towards you wanting the same thing he did, and he's not sure what he did to get this lucky, but with his every cell buzzing and vibrating and keening over to get closer, he wasn't about to let the opportunity pass. 
He wants to ask ‘why me’ or ‘are you sure’ but what comes out is a broken, desperate whisper of a “can I touch you?”, and you answer with a grin and with your fingers tangled to the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. 
“Yes,” you breathe, “please.”
And really, he wouldn't have thought it would be so simple, but it's the please that does him in – just one whispered word and his brain short-circuits in an overflowing flash of white-hot need. Need to trigger that again, need to please, and need to finally give in to the pleasure waiting to boil. And then it all comes rushing out; the hunger. 
His hands are on your waist in an instant, and his cane clatters to the ground as he leans his weight on you and the wall and for a moment, he has the sense to hope the curtains don't come tumbling down, and they don't, which is good enough for him, because then he can let go of that particular worry and focus solely on finding your lips to his and making the most of every second of this that you're willing to give him. 
The sensations hit his brain like flashes of bright light; how soft you are under his fingers, like he'd hoped, the fabric smooth and silky, giving away easily under his touch. How warm you are, warm and breathing in a fluttered little gasp, the dusty old velvet mixing in with your sweet scent, and then when he gets his lips on you–
After that it's just golden-dark-velvet-honey-thick bliss. You breathe out a small sound that drips down his spinal cord and goes straight to the purring pit at the bottom of his stomach, and he swallows it with a hungry, greedy, desperate groan that comes from somewhere deep inside his chest, and his head is swimming with warm and real and soft and for me–
He is happily overloading his brain with this, and he doesn’t even care. He presses closer to you and you exhale another sweet little sound that makes him bare his teeth, and then his lips are on your neck and he doesn’t know anything except that he wants you to keep making those sounds and he likes the way your hands tangle in his hair and tug. 
“Tell me what you want,” he mutters to the skin of your neck, pulling you closer by the waist, and absolutely relishing in the way your chest rises and falls with short little pants he can hear you take in and out. In and out, and as he tugs at your waist again, just a bit closer, and drags his teeth against your pulse lightly, one of those exhales turns into a sweet little whine. 
He grins against your skin. 
He doesn’t waste the time or energy pretending he isn't an absolute mess over you, right now – his own breathing ragged and fast and his heart hammering in his ears, his whole body buzzing with want – but that didn't mean seeing you react that way didn't make him want to purr. 
Didn't make his insides heat up with I did that. I got her like this. She made that sound for me. For me. It's mine. 
You take a breath, slow and rugged, and then you tug him towards one of the velvet-covered seats. And he moves like he's floating, letting you guide him, because what else is he going to do? You tug him into the seat and he sits on it, gladly, and stays there looking up at you with his eyes wide and only half-lidded and his heart hammering, waiting for more. 
You give him another one of those small, private, knowing smiles, your eyes hazy, and then you step to stand right in front of him. 
And then you hover over him, just waiting for him to pull you into his lap. He does, because he is selfish and greedy and burning, and he's pretty sure he's going to implode if he doesn’t get that delicious pressure on him soon, and his hand fits your waist perfectly, and then when when you do straddle him, your hips pressing down on his, he whines. He lets out a breathless little whine, he can feel it in the base of his spine, and it makes that hunger in him want more. 
“Only the voices directed upwards travel down there, right?” you ask, voice quiet and dripping right into his ear and pooling at the bottom of his stomach. 
He swallows. “Yes.” 
You hum thoughtfully, and press your body closer to his, all soft and warm and perfect, sinking your lips down to his neck and he shivers, instinctually tilting back his head with a sigh, exposing more of his neck to you. 
“Better keep quiet, then.” 
409 notes · View notes
unknownplane · 2 months ago
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The Court Jester Part 2
Yandere Batfam x GN Reader
Pt. 1, Pt. 3, Pt. 4
As Batman questioned his life choices, his other children listened in on the conversation.
"So that's what happened to (Y/N). I thought they had just moved out." Tim stated.
"How did that weak-" Damian started but was cut off by Tim. "You didn't even know them! They were nice and understood how important our work was, so they tried to stay out of the way!"
Dick and Jason just blocked out the arguing as they started to remember all the things (Y/N) did for them. How they tried to help even in the smallest ways. Like how they would always make sure there was a fresh pot of coffee or how they would rotate the types of cookies in the manor so everyone got one they liked.
When (Y/N) first moved out, the first thing the family realized was how much they did. It felt weird the first couple of weeks, but they eventually got used to it. Seeing (Y/N) like this made them worry, even if some of them wouldn't admit it (Damian). This awoken something in each of them.
Dick saw someone who was with him since the beginning. Someone he could always trust to be there for him when he needed it, and now he could see it was gone. The twisted smile on their face showed all the pressure he and his family put on them, and he felt nothing but guilt.
Jason saw someone who went through something similar to him. He saw the torture in their eyes. He heard the manipulation in the words that came out their mouth. He knew that if he could just get to them and talk like they used to, it would all be fine. He was determined to get them back, and this time, they weren't leaving his sight.
Tim saw the calculation that went into this trap. He saw the brain of (Y/N), who even in this state was brilliant. He saw the planning, the research, the trail and error of each detail in this plan, all to catch Batman and have a conversation with him before your "Dad" got there. He wanted to bounce ideas off you. He wanted to talk about plans with you. He even wanted to just hang out and chill with you, but in order to do that, he would need to get you back. And when you came back, he would do all those things with you.
Stephanie saw the abandoned side of you. She realized that she didn't know anything about you. Your age, your favorite color, your birthday, she didn't even know your last name. She knows what it's like to have a distant relationship with a parent figure, and she wants to help. She wants to know all of those things. She wants to know you. And if you let her (you will), she wants to be the closest person to you.
Damian saw a weak follower who needed not only to learn but also needed to be protected. Even though you are older than him, he can see a flame in you that with the right training and teacher could become a full-on blaze. He would be that teacher. He would be the one you look up to. Nobody else. He just needed to get you back to start training.
They all looked at each other as if thinking the same thing,"Let's go get (Y/N)."
Back with (Y/N)...
"Dads gonna be so proud when he sees this! I mean, look at you! You look totally defeated!" (Y/N) said between giggles. They were giddy. They had talked to dad about if they could try something with the Bat, and surprisingly, he agreed. After the Bat was caught, they sent the signal to their father so they could show off their work.
Batman was tied to a chair. His utility belt on the floor as they made him make a choice. Drop your utility belt, or I will kill these two parents and make a boy and a girl orphans. They knew what they were doing. They knew it was wrong. But God did it feel good. To have his eyes looking at them and having him see what they truly are. Not their mother but (Y/N). Even if they look a little different now.
As the Bat was beginning to start a sentence the door busted open.
"Hello Peanut!" The Joker exclaimed as he came in. "Look at all the fine work you've done. My little Jester".
-------------------------------------------------------
Thank you so much for all the support on the first part of this! Everytime I see your guys support I am baffled at how wonderful you all are. Quick question do you want this to be completely platonic or do you want some people from the family to be romantic? Also should I add more people from the DC Universe? Thank you so much for reading!
@asillysimp
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f1goat · 10 months ago
Text
more than friends ; lando norris + part five
Tumblr media Tumblr media
In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
masterlist - playlist
fem!y/n x lando norris
warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.
requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things
a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile
part one / part two / part three / part four
You can’t stop staring at Lando. Everyone else around you is doing the exact same, you’re sure of it. He’s absolutely glowing right now. After his deleted lap time from the qualifications yesterday, he came back stronger then ever. It’s only seconds before they’ll hand him his deserved trophy for the second place from this race. A smile is plastered on your face while staring at Lando. Podiums look good on him. Insanely good. 
Lando is literally glowing. Most people would blame it on the sweat, but you can’t even think about things like that right now. All logic has left your brain, you can only focus on Lando and how good he looks. 
“You did so good!” You almost scream when Lando comes to you after his podium. He’s still wearing that glow from his podium. You can smell the scent of expensive champagne. What if you would kiss Lando right now, would you taste the champagne? If there weren’t this many people around you, you’d have loved to find that out. While Lando doesn’t talk at first, you continue to praise him and his race. Lando gives you a hug, something you gladly return. 
“You know what this means, right babygirl?” Lando whispers in your ear while hugging you. You think back at the conversations between you two from earlier. Is he serious? This is what he’s thinking about right now? You wait for Lando to continue, he must mean something else. “I want you,” Lando speaks up again in a slow but firm way, “in my drivers room, so I can get my celebration right after debrief.” 
You feel your cheeks heating up, they are red now for sure. 
“Can you do that for me babygirl?” Lando continues to ask you. You can’t seem to get out any word right now, so you answer him with a nod. If you did know what to say, you’re sure the words would get lost on your tongue. Lando makes things even worse by pressing a small kiss against your forehead. You wish you could feel his lips on yours right now, but you’re fully aware of all the cameras around you. Tomorrow - or maybe even this afternoon already - you will see this fragment of your life all over social media.
You’re no stranger to social media, but whenever Lando and you make an appearance together somewhere you’re socials seem to fill up with hate. 
Lando walks away from you. It’s clear what you need to do right now. He was quite obvious about his wishes and who are you to deny those for him? Without thinking about it further, you walk back towards the McLaren motorhome. It’s not hard to get into Lando his drivers room, probably because everyone around you knows who you are - and that if they say no, they’ll have to deal with an angry Lando, but you don’t know about that. Instead of making some conversation with the cheerful people who are still around, you walk straight towards Lando his drivers room. 
When you enter his room, you start to feel a bit nervous. What does Lando expect from you? He made his wishes clear, yesterday and today. Apparently he wants to eat you out? The thought alone makes you feel even more nervous. Although you have no idea why. Lando is probably pretty good at it, so it will be more of a celebration for you then for him. Right? Maybe it’s the thought of Lando seeing everything of you that makes you nervous. He hasn’t seen your private parts before. What if they don’t look good enough? Normally Lando dates models, you bet they look a lot better then you. 
You try to shake off the negative thoughts and focus on your Instagram. The story you posted a it earlier about Lando on his podium, is getting a lot of reactions. You scroll through every one of them. When you see a notification from Lando popping up, you almost drop your phone on the floor. Is he serious?
Lando: 5 minutes babe x
Lando: maybe you can already lose some clothes :))
Only the thought about you waiting for Lando in his drivers room in only your lingerie - or maybe even naked, makes you feel too many things at once. Your stomach tightens when you think about it, you don’t know if it’s because of excitement or nerves. Without realizing it, you’re already kicking off your sneakers. Your next movements are going on automatic pilot. At this moment you don’t think about all the people who can simply just walk in and see you like this. It doesn’t even come up in your mind right now. You can only focus on doing what Lando asked you and pleasing him. In a short period of time, the floor is covered in the clothes you were wearing before. The only thing left on your body is your lingerie. It’s a simple black set, nothing too exciting but it does look nice. You think about buying an orange set someday. Are you going to keep it on or not? You doubt. Eventually you decide to fuck it and take it off as well.
You thank the warm weather of today and of this country. The thought of Lando who can be here any second, is enough to make you shiver. It feels strange to wait for Lando naked, certainly while being in his drivers room. Then you realize that Lando has never seen you like this before. The cons are starting to weight up. You start to doubt yourself more and more. What if he doesn’t like the way you look?
When the door opens you’re extremely aware of your surroundings and your own bareness. Why does it only occur to you now that literally everyone can walk in here? You let out a relieved sound when you see that it’s Lando who opened the door. Lando has never closed a door faster. When he sees the way you’re waiting for him, he hurries himself inside the room and closes the door quickly behind himself. After that he’s even more hurried to come close to you. 
Lando can’t tear his eyes away from you. He realizes that he’s staring, maybe he’s even making you uncomfortable with his staring, but he can’t stop. At this moment he doesn’t even think about looking away from you. He never saw you like this before. Everything that happened earlier between you two always happened with you in clothes. Of course, he had some information about your body from the summery looks and the bikinis. But still, this is mind-blowing to him. It’s even better then he imagined and he imagined it quite often… He lets his gaze go over every small detail of your body.
For now his focus is onto your breasts, he notices the way your nipples are sticking out. They resemble small pebbles in his mind. He wants nothing more then to shower them in kisses right now. He wants to feel them in his mouth until he feels them hardenen on his tongue, only to switch to the other one after that and experience it again. He lets his stare slide towards your most private parts. You’re sitting with your legs crossed over each other. He wants to see more of you. He wants to see everything from you. 
It can’t be right that you’re the girl who has made the most impact on him. He doesn’t even need to think about all the other girls to know for sure you’re the most beautiful one. Seeing you naked has caused him to be rock hard in only seconds. His dick is throbbing painfully. He tries to remember himself that this is all about you - and not about him, but it’s hard to stop thinking about his own pleasure while feeling as turned on as now. You’re the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, with and without clothes, and it’s doing way too much to him right now.
You start to feel a bit uncomfortable with Lando his current silence. Was it a mistake to undress this far already? Maybe you should ask him. When you start to think about what to question him, Lando lets out a soft sound. It almost sound likes a moan. You look at him. Lando is still taking in your body. It looks like he’s looking at you full with adoration and lust, or are you making that up? 
Lando walks closer to you. He takes his time to get close in front of you. When he’s finally standing in front of you, he is quick to lower himself so he’s on the same level as you. Then he eagerly puts his lips onto yours. He gives you a soft peck on your lips, before taking a seat next to you. Lando pulls you onto his lap. He makes sure you face him. At this moment he wants to see everything from your body the whole time. 
He presses a kiss against your neck. “Fucking hell babygirl,” he finally mutters. He presses another kiss against your body, this time it’s to your collarbone. “I didn’t expect you to be naked already,” Lando continues, “such a beautiful surprise.” He presses his lips against your body again and presses multiple kisses against it. Slowly he’s getting closer to your breasts. 
You’re already trembling under Lando his touch. He lets out a low groan. “Can I touch you babygirl?” He asks you. You’re quick to tell him yes. Lando takes one of your breasts into his hand, softly feeling around it. He looks at you to focus on your facial expressions, hopefully to find out what you like - and more importantly, what not. After softly feeling around your tit, he takes it in his hand and kneads it softly. 
“Such a good girl,” Lando tells you. 
Your stomach tightens. Your cheeks redden once again. Such small words, but their impact is massive.
“Such a beautiful, good girl,” Lando whispers softly. 
Lando his attention switches to your tits. Your glad about it, because it’s probably embarrassing how red your cheeks are right now. Lando lowers his face to get closer to your tits. He’s still kneading one of them. You almost jump up when you feel his lips against your other boob. He presses soft kisses against it before he starts to suck on the soft skin. You quietly follow his movements with your eyes, not looking away for the tiniest bit. It doesn’t take Lando long before pressing a kiss against your hardened nipple. After that he takes your nipple inside his mouth. You feel him sucking on it softly.
When Lando moves back, you let out a soft whimper. Lando changes his movements. He moves his hand away from your breast, slowly letting it slide lower on your body. In the mean time he lets his mouth hoover over your other boob. It doesn’t take long before he takes your nipple in his mouth. Softly sucking it in again. It surprises you when you feel your pussy clenching. It amazes you when you notice that you feel yourself getting more wet. Lando his mouth is doing all kind of things to you, you can’t complain about one tiny part of it. 
He removes his lips from your breast again. His hands are moving downwards. Quickly getting closer to your private parts. It annoys you that he doesn’t touch you where you need him. He keeps his hand barely above your pussy. You don’t even realize it when you let out a soft whine. 
Lando on the other hand is quick to notice the sound. “What’s wrong babygirl?” He asks you. You notice the small smirk that has appeared on his face. It makes you realize that he’s teasing you like this on purpose. Fucking tease. You want to tell him, but every word that leaves your mouth is begging Lando to do something about the way you’re feeling. 
“I need you,” you softly whimper.
Lando lets out a low groan. Animalistic even. The whiny undertone in your voice makes him lose his mind. He moves himself lower, making sure to take a good position in front of you. You’re still sitting on the couch, Lando is onto his knees in front of you. He takes your legs into his hands, spreading them slowly for himself. 
You look at Lando, but he doesn’t look back. All his attention is on your pussy right now. Before you can feel uncomfortable, awkward or nervous about it - Lando starts to shower you with compliments about it.
“Such a pretty pussy,” He tells you with a low voice. Carefully he slides his hand around it. He makes sure that he isn’t already touching your clit or entrance. Lando knows he’s teasing you, maybe too much even, but he can’t stop himself. He loves the soft combination from whimpers, whines and moans that are coming from your lips. It’s his celebration after all, right? When he takes a look at you, he’s quick to notice the frustrated look on your face. It makes him realize how much you need him right now. A feeling that makes him feel unbelievable good about himself. He wants you to never need anyone else like this. If it’s up to him, he’s the one who you need like this for the rest of your life.
He slides his fingers on your lips. Carefully spreading them a bit with his hands. Giving himself more to look at.
“So beautiful,” he continues to tell you. 
He lets his finger slides through your slit. It surprises him how wet you’re already are. His finger is quickly coated in your slick. 
“So wet already,” he murmurs to you.
He presses a soft kiss against the inside of your thigh. 
“Is that all for me babygirl?” He asks you. 
“Yes,” you’re quick to tell him. 
“Who’s the one who made you this wet?” Lando asks you. He knows the answer already, but he wants nothing more then to hear you say it. He needs to hear that he’s the one who caused this. 
“You Lan,” you softly confess, “it’s all because of you.”
Lando can’t withhold a soft moan after hearing your answer. He presses a few more kisses against your thighs. Slowly he moves closer to your pussy, but makes sure that he isn’t coming closer then your lips. You let out a frustrated whine.
“I need more,” you confess, “Please Lan.”
Lando presses a soft kiss against your clit this time.
“More,” you let out.
Lando grins. He softly slides his finger over your clit a couple times, but makes sure it’s still not enough for you. He presses more kisses against your inner thighs. A thought pops up in his head, what if he made you beg for it? Fuck that would be hot. His dick is getting even harder while thinking about it. 
“What do you want baby?” Lando asks you.
He makes sure his finger is dangerously close to your clit right now. Not onto it, but really close.
“You,” you whimper.
“No, no,” Lando tuts, “What do you want me to do?”
Lando his question makes you silent for a bit. He moves his finger even closer to your clit. Softly he touches it. It makes you tremble under his touch. According to you, it’s absolutely unfair what he’s doing to you. How can he makes you feel like this with barely touching you? For a few seconds you wonder if anyone else can ever makes you feel like this. You highly doubt it.
“If you don’t tell me baby, I can’t help you,” Lando teases you. 
“Fucking tease,” you groan.
“Tell me babygirl,” Lando continues to tease.
You let out a soft trail of whimpers. “Please Lan,” you softly say. He just shakes his head. “Can you please do something about it?” You continue. Lando shakes his head again. “Fuck Lando,” you groan, “just lick me please.” That seems to work. Lando doesn’t reply verbally, he moves his head as close as he can towards your pussy. 
He finally starts to do what you asked him. You remind yourself to tell him what you want sooner the next time - knowing Lando, he will be acting like this a whole lot more. Lando slowly licks around your vagina. He makes sure to lick every part of it before turning his attention to his clit. Still teasing you. When he finally reaches your clit, he presses a soft kiss against it. When you want to let out another beg - for Lando to finally do something, he already starts to place soft, small licks onto it. He’s making sure that he’s not going to fast, but also not to slow. He wants to do this right. He wants you to enjoy this just as much as he is doing right now. When you let out multiple moans, Lando increases his pace a bit.
In the mean time he slides his finger around your slit. He slowly brings his finger to your entrance, but doesn’t push it inside. Yet. Lando knows really well how much he’s teasing you, but he can’t help himself. He loves the way you response to him and the soft begs that are leaving your lips. All because of him. He has fallen in love with the desperate voice you use when you beg him for something. Lando wants to know for sure that he’s the one who makes you feel like this and that you need him. 
You buck your hips. Hopefully Lando gets the hint and finally puts his finger inside. Maybe even more then one now that you think about it. Lando doesn’t respond to your earlier movement. You open your eyes, which you had closes the whole time. To your surprise Lando is already looking at you. Staring even. Before you speak up, you admire the way he looks between your legs. You move your hands to his curls, softly tugging on them. 
Lando still makes soft licks onto your clitoris. It’s making you feel all kind of things. Sometimes he switches a bit and licks around your whole slit. But the things he’s doing to your clit right now, those are the best. Even though you still want more. Greedy, isn’t it?
“Lan,” you speak up with a soft voice. He raises his eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue. “I need more,” you tell him. Your cheeks redden from embarrassment when you tell him that. Lando removes his mouth from you and takes a good look at you. His fingers replace the movements his tongue made earlier. It still feels good, but not as good as his tongue.
“More?” He asks you. 
“Please,” you beg.
“Tell me what you want babygirl,” Lando states. He increases his pace with his finger. He likes looking at you while you look like this. You’re shaking underneath his touch. Moans are trembling over your lips like they’re your new language. Lando wishes he could save this memory so he could look back at it and enjoy every small detail again and again. His cock is throbbing even more painfully then before.
“How longer you take, how longer you will miss my tongue onto your pussy,” Lando tells you. He hears a soft whine leaving your lips. 
“I need your fingers,” you eventually confess.
Lando still doesn’t give you what you want. “Ask me,” he tells you sternly. 
“Can you finger me?” You ask Lando softly with red cheeks. Before he can react to you, you’re already add another few words. “Please Lan?”
His boner almost explodes when he hears to soft ‘please Lan’ coming from your lips. He doesn’t say anything anymore. He’s quick to move his lips back to your clit and to move his fingers to your entrance again. This time he licks your clit even faster. He hear hard moans coming from you. Is it bad that he’s already getting addicted to the sound of your moans? He wants to be the only one who ever hears these sounds coming from your lips. He never wants to share this sound with anyone else. 
Lando pushes one of his fingers softly inside you. He feels your walls clenching around his finger. Easily he pushes in and outside of you. It doesn’t take him long before adding another finger. He increases his pace and really starts to finger fuck you. In the mean time he focuses on eating you out. He softly sucks on your clit. It makes you almost scream from pleasure. 
“Fuck Lan,” you moan when he sucks even harder on your clit.
He doesn’t response verbally, but he keeps increasing his pace. He even adds a third finger. Your wells are starting to clench around his fingers more and more. Patiently he waits for you to come. He feels your clitoris starting to throb inside his mouth. You feel your stomach tighten. Moans keep coming out of your mouth. You can’t stop yourself. 
“I’m close,” you tell Lando. He reacts by sucking even harder. He moves his fingers even faster inside you. He gives all his attention to the soft, spongy spot inside you. You let out another hard moan. 
“Can I come?” You suddenly ask him.
Lando feels overwhelmed by your sudden question. Fuck. It’s insane how it feels that you’re asking him for permission to come. You’ll literally be the death of him. While Lando doesn’t know how to respond at first, you are having more trouble with holding back your orgasm. The waves of pleasure are already hitting over you in a fast pace. You’re really close.
“Lan?” You quickly ask, hoping that he will respond to your question.
He removes his lips from your clit for a couple seconds. Not any longer then necessary. “Please do babygirl,” he tells you before taking your clit back in his mouth again. Softly sucking it before licking it with a fast pace. He focuses his gaze on your face. He can’t look away from you. When your orgasm hits you, Lando notices everything about it. He sees the way you close your eyes when the first waves hit you. He notices the way your lips are partly open, only to let out a couple soft moans. When you press your legs a bit more together, Lando stops his movements and pulls back. He doesn’t want to overstimulate you. At least, not today. It would be a nice thing to do in the future. 
Lando waits for you to say something. In the mean time he sucks your wetness off his own fingers. He takes place next to you on the couch. You quickly let your body rest against him. 
“Fuck,” you mutter, “that was really good.”
Lando shows you a small grin. “Glad you liked it,” he says. His cock is still throbbing inside of his race suit. “You taste better then the champagne,” he tells you. You let out a laugh. Without thinking about it you press a kiss against Lando his lips, he’s quick to turn it into more. When his tongue slides into your mouth, you taste the faint tase of your own slit on his tongue combined with the bitter taste of champagne. 
Then you notice Lando’s bulge in his race suit. Did eating you out make him this hard? You let your hand rest on his boner. 
“Maybe I can do something for you as well,” you tell Lando with a soft voice.
“I wish,” he grunts almost annoyed, “but we have a dinner and a party to get ready for.”
“Maybe later tonight?” You suggest. 
“I like the way your thinking babygirl,” Lando softly laughs. 
“You still deserve a celebration as well,” you tell Lando. 
“Believe me babygirl, this was a whole celebration,” he confesses, “Next time I don’t even want to stop after your first orgasm.”
“You think I can cum more then once?” You ask confused.
“Add a lesson about overstimulation to your teaching plan babe,” Lando tells you jokingly, but none of his words are a joke. He wants to spend the whole evening between your legs and pull every orgasm out of you that you have. Leaving not even one of them for anyone else.
“Deal,” you react.
Lando can only smile after that. How did this even happen to him? It feels like he’s living his dream, but when he thinks about the fact that you’re still ‘just friends’ they shatter apart. 
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capslocked · 1 year ago
Text
KINKVEMBER DAY: 6
[prompt: blowjob]
male reader x hyeju
12k words
Tumblr media
“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”
"Like what?" you ask.
"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."
You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."
“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone who actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"
"Utterly deranged."
"So wild."
-
The first time you hook up with your roommate, it’s because of genetics - though not in the weird, uncontrollable way your body gets rigid and sensitive to any pretty girl who wears nothing but a towel moving between her bedroom and the bathroom, or how her eyes might flick fast from your chest up to yours - or given that the absolute shape of her is a blessing from one god or another (benevolent, clearly). That's not why Hyeju and you find yourselves only a few months later grinding on each other after the clock ticked past midnight, making out on New Year's Eve.
No, it has to do with the fact that Hyeju's nearly failing the nine AM section of molecular genetics because she's spent every lecture doodling stars and planets and planets shaped like asscheeks and planet-ass constellations while everyone else writes notes or doom scrolls twitter or whatever and she is somehow simultaneously the only student who never slept with her face on the lab desk or missed an assigned reading and the only one who absolutely needs a tutor.
It's just cosmic odds that you'd be that one: her roommate, who shouldn't be talking so loudly in the library about sex (in a sort of non-sexy, Mendelian kind of way) or be thinking the kind of things you've started thinking when Hyeju wears one of her more sleepshirt-esque long sleeves, her voice getting lower as you rattle off, "fruit flies and thale cress, definitely, it's just an error of fate or chromosome splitting..." before trailing off into a question.
"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," she finally tells you. You listen to her sigh into the binding of her textbook, facedown. "I'm really going to bomb this exam."
You tap her hand twice with your highlighter across the desk. "Then you're pretty damn lucky, if you think about it."
She turns to you, smiles a bit. "Okay, point. The worst thing will be having to retake this stupid fucking class."
"Why didn't you ask for help or go to office hours if you knew you were... failing?"
"Maybe because doing anything more than the bare minimum to get through a class I don't care about is my definition of, failing," she mumbles. "Why didn't anyone tell me a single lab is worth half my grade? Or that the TA is this fucking unreliable? How is this the one thing, really, beyond the basics, that can't be taught by wikipedia, a wikihow article and a youtube video?"
You scoot your seat closer to her. "You really need to relax."
"Fucking tell me about it."
You turn it over in your mind a few times, capping the top of your highlighter.
"Want me to get you off?"
And it’s not like you really mean it, when you say it, which is the strangest thing: you wouldn't actually suggest it, normally, wouldn't mention it in passing and then leave yourself open to the follow up and cross examination; yet there it is, after three, four hours of cramming notes on heterochronicity and the sloshing of gametes - you actually did propose it.
Hyeju jerks up, surprised.
"Are you serious?" She looks around, nearly snorting. "In the library?"
The face you’re giving her makes her scoff.
“You’re absolutely nuts.”
You have character flaws; the inability to admit wrongdoing chief among them. Hell, maybe it's from your mother - or maybe all your brains are just scrambled by the fact that Hyeju's sitting there with her pen against her pretty lips, hair glossier than usual as she scans your face and makes your entire body feel like a reactor core in meltdown.
Maybe you can blame what comes next on that.
"I'm always serious. I'm asking a serious question," you whisper, closing the textbook and resting your elbows on top. You look around quickly, like you're sneaking something in instead of this perfectly reasonable exchange, the perfectly platonic - except maybe not so much - way for friends to help each other.
"And I'm wondering what you're asking." Her cheeks are definitely pinker, you think, or the way it fills out her face, from the bottom up, is just that easy to imagine.
“I’m saying you haven’t gotten laid in months.” Here, you realize, these blocks of mental logic that definitely weren’t there when you blurted it out start to coalesce into something solid as you go on.
And you hadn't been wrong when you thought no one had given Hyeju a helping hand in a long, long time: you've heard through the walls or the floorboards at odd hours of the morning that she spends far too long fingering herself to a mind-numbing, tear-worthy frustration that leaves her knuckle-deep but never, ever sated or satisfied.
"No one's around, you'll feel better. You said it yourself."
Not a work of your imagination here - her ears are fucking burning.
"Wait a minute." She pushes her chair back, away from you and your gleaming offer. It clatters on its back legs, and a librarian waves her finger in warning. You wave back, sheepishly, until she stops and Hyeju stands and moves away from the table to talk, hands crossed over her front.
She turns and asks in a hushed-down-voice, "how did you know - did you hear something last night?"
"You couldn't keep it down even if you wanted to, honestly."
Hyeju turns further and throws a glare at the library doors, because obviously her noisiness and their collective noisemanship, or whatever the hell the word is, is clearly the root of the whole goddamn problem.
"Look - if not, no big deal - but I'm just saying you'll probably get over it and at least think less about sex. Or at least the wrong kind of sex."
You expect her to turn, sigh, and ask if you've lost your mind. Expect her to gather her jacket from the back of her chair, take her books and stomp out the room. Or even burst out laughing at the insanity, before slapping your arm lightly, in playful retaliation - anything other than the serious look she gives you in return, tilting her head, pressing her lips.
She turns up at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating something. And it's cute. It's so very, very cute, how her mouth pouts as she considers the possibility, right up until she says, "okay, fine."
The moderate twist of surprise taking hold in your brow must be visible.
"Oh, don't tell me that was all talk. Get me thinking about the right kind of sex or whatever."
You laugh, which has the librarian staring at both of you - until the librarian stops staring and probably sees Hyeju sliding back into her chair, the full, pent-up weight of her concentration pointed your way, knees inching apart - you, and Hyeju waiting, your knee bumping into her inner thigh, leaning closer as the textbook hits the floor.
"Don't laugh."
"Not laughing, seriously. Not laughing," you stammer. “I just think you’re just full of surprises.”
She spreads her knees further and sits taller, looking right at you.
"So then, surprise me," and then presses her cheek to the crook of your elbow.
You slide your chair right into the space next to hers, nuzzling up into the space under her ear. “Keep studying, Hyeju, you’ve got shit to do.” And then you slide your hand beneath the waist of her sweats, knead the swell of her thigh until you find the seam where her leg meets her body, press your palm down on the place just next to her center, your thumb in the middle. All this perfect pressure.
"Fuck," Hyeju says under a shudder. She's breathing heavier when your hot, open-mouthed kisses start landing at her neck, and she probably tries to read her textbook for about forty-five seconds longer. But there's the clench of her jaw right as your middle finger begins tracing circles beneath the fabric of her panties, and her gaze is blurring until she can't tell the difference between an allele or your fucking name.
"Shh-shh," you quiet her, finger tapping harder, playing with the slick wetness beneath all those layers of thick cotton and pressing two fingers there until her knees part like they’re not interested in resisting at all. Your lips press a kiss to the shell of her ear and she tenses all at once, hand shooting up to cover her mouth.
She simply leans back, closes her eyes, and lets you take care of her.
“Okay, you’re right,” she says, shaky and uneven, “that really did take some of the edge off. Did we ever review - poly- uh, pol-polymers here?"
The sweatshirt sleeve falling off your shoulder is a hindrance to any actual reading; her shifting against the chair isn't helping either, but you manage to push down the thoughts of stripping her down completely and giving her your tongue as yet another distraction.
"What did the syllabus say? I don't know if we need to read too far on 'polymers'," you say, having going through an entire afternoon without considering this once, but as you curl your fingers and take an honest crack at cramming the remaining chapters into her head, the knowledge that no one else is getting her this wet - except for whoever she's got in her mind's eye at three AM - is enough to get you feeling a little dizzy.
-
It’s probably supposed to be weird, given that you’ve never gotten any of your other friends off spontaneously in the library, or there's the fact that you can't really avoid each other afterwards, how she shows up in a silk negligee when you're pouring coffee before sunrise to prep for another day and you have the opportunity to notice - yes, she has amazing taste in underwear, yes, you might not have really appreciated her chest and figure enough before - yes, fuck it. She catches you noticing that first time, after coming downstairs with nothing but one of her cropped t-shirts and her board shorts, and she smirks when she realizes you're still thinking about it that afternoon, when her foot grazes yours while you're both washing dishes, and she dries the plate in her hand with a slow swipe.
And it is weird, actually, to describe what’s going on between you in words. 
A few words, anyway, like a one-word label to describe what it was: friends or roommates-with-benefits, or - fuck buddies - god, it's even worse. Fuck buddies? Fuck friends? Something equally terrible and stupid that still makes sense, like something out of a shitty rom-com: it doesn't capture any of the rest of the myriad ways in which things can feel less or less friendly between two people.
So, friends was never, ever going to cut it. Roommates - although technically correct - is just this side of too clinical. And let's be clear: strangers don't wake up every morning together, walk to the same class, sit close together in the middle seats, secretly flick a strangers' skirt up in an empty lecture hall and get on their knees and work your mouth onto her pussy and watch the legs of the desks shake when her feet arch into the floor.
"The notes you've got are better than mine," is how Hyeju tries to put things, the next day and every time after that, standing in the doorframe, or at the foot of your bed and looking every bit the disheveled and hopeless mess you imagine she might spread out over the sheets of her own.
-
It gets complicated, which isn't really a surprise.
"You think your roommate is going to be home tonight?" is the question that comes up multiple times - from a revolving door of pretty names and faces. Hyeju has at least one opinion, if not more, on each of them.
"Tell Jinsoul I say hi," she says once, watching you get ready for a date, and you nearly bang your knee on the edge of the bathroom vanity. 
It's one of the more harmless comments she's offered.
Another, backhanded: "if you’re just looking for a blowjob everyday between lunch and our physics lab, let Hyunjin or Heejin or whatever-her-name-is know she's easily my favorite," Hyeju says on your way out one morning, still under her covers.
Or,
Hyeju's texted a simple "uh, Chuu? really??" when you mention, once, how much fun you've been having - and what kind, as you make a round of self-conscious and rambling phone calls the next day that land you with only one prospect for the night - but your roommate's also no longer being your roommate by the end of it, bouncing against your thighs in the bathtub and moaning something about please more and fuck or fucking make me cum; the details escape you a bit.
That's what friends are for, probably.
Still, in the same, bare-bones explanation, friends also aren't for falling asleep on you - or letting you hold her - or fucking you awake in the middle of the night. Friends aren't for pushing down your jeans when the early-morning dew settles on the back patio, or jerking you off in the seat beside yours with a sweatshirt over your lap when a group project is due later and you all should probably work on that and instead get yourselves off and leave the mess of what you're doing half-finished. Friends aren't, probably, for offering to watch you rub your palm up and down your cock the night before next semester's exams when you can barely sit in a single chair and you can't think about molecular biology or neurochemical transcriptions when your whole body aches to do the transcribing. (If you can catch that drift.)
The lists of who are and are not good enough for you goes on and on - the latter longer than the former.
So, there's Choerry, who according to Hyeju is 'straight up, a total slut'. Yeojin, who gets mistaken for your little sister enough times that Hyeju refuses to - in good faith - let you keep sleeping with her. Both Heejin and Gowon are apparently too pretty for you. "Kim-lip?" she asks, in the middle of peeling garlic, "is that one name or two?" And laughs into a bottle of beer, loud, while you're telling her to quit being nosey and watch her fingers with the damn knife.
"You have a problem."
"Why, because I asked a few simple questions? I think anyone would be a little curious with the -" she pauses to wave her fingers - "I'd be remiss to not be interested in the very drama that unfolds literally across the hall."
She waggles her eyebrows.
You look up at the ceiling. God save you, you think. "Hyeju."
("Seriously," Hyeju chimes in one evening, arms around you, and a mouthful of the dinner you'd cooked.
"You need better taste in girls. Don't waste time on anyone too dumb, or who drinks the milk straight from the carton, or doesn't wash her socks with the same load of laundry. Oh, and - no one who chews loudly. No one who can't tell you're going to cum. The worst is someone who doesn't know what you like, trust me on that. And remember the last rule: don't do anything with someone who eats at a really slow pace, it's incredibly depressing."
You rest your chin on her shoulder from the spot behind her. "Duly noted, oh Master of all Knowledge."
She sighs into your arm, but in the next moment, her voice gets a lot softer, her hips fidgeting slightly against you. "I just mean you're the kind of person people would want to sleep with again," she says, before turning to say your name and kiss you again and again as your bodies curl inward.
"I wonder what that means, Hyeju," you say.
"Fuck," Hyeju groans as you slide further into her, pushing her back into the sofa - hands on her shoulders, legs bent on her either side, "don't tease me like this.")
-
The first snowfall of the year is mild, a tiny dusting, nothing that sticks on the pavement in the alley or on the sidewalks - or the lintels - or in Hyeju's hair, but by evening, when the snow picks up and everything goes quiet, Hyeju has changed into flannels and wool socks in anticipation, curled up like a cat at one edge of the window ledge as the world begins to go white. It's enough that you even pull on a thicker sweatshirt, open up a book, and join her.
She turns toward you, quiet.
You've reached a point in the semester where this, the silence, doesn't unsettle you anymore. It's the space you fill up with time in-between, where you can see the contours of her body against the orange lamplight of the space heater, or watch her kick off the top half of the duvet at night as you fight over space in her bed and wonder about the bare skin peeking out from her shorts.
"Feeling bored?" She slides her foot a little closer to yours, almost imperceptibly. "Am I keeping you entertained enough?"
Her lips pull up at the corner. You chuckle.
"Oh, no."
She scoffs and puts her hands on her knees, pushes herself closer to the window sill and bumps her elbow into your shoulder. The bare skin of her neck and shoulders and face is getting a little redder as she cranes it forward. "Okay, if not, do you need someone to entertain you, maybe."
Your mouth twists, fighting a smile.
Hyeju is so close to you, you could kiss her really, really easily and not care how she'd feel about that. It's not a habit, not as often as it used to be, but every once and a while - she starts this game. Every once in a while, Hyeju just starts smiling like that, and leans into you like she's daring you to play along, hard round of chicken until it's clear what the two of you are doing with each other; the minutes pass by, one, then two, and then - maybe she pushes first, her leg on yours, or a kiss to your jaw or a palm on your back as she walks behind you - and then you'd turn and kiss her full on the mouth and pull at her clothes like nothing's holding you back.
She cocks a smile, and says, "why don't you go and call what's her name."
"Because."
You glance out at the cold, gray light outside. If you had a better understanding of any of the workings inside you, you could reach forward and tell her everything that's stopped you.
-
You're supposed to meet the girl-of-the-month at a New Year's party. Hyeju looks disgusted within the first ten seconds of the whole story.
"Heejin dumped you once, like, two months ago? For no reason."
"It wasn't a break-up. We talked about what we did wrong and we're doing better," you say, lifting one finger.
She glares, then, tilts her lips into this unamused purse that you can't take seriously at all when she starts walking back and forth across your living room, hands moving emphatically to the sides as she speaks, like she's in the process of unveiling a brilliant argument and is using both palms to guide your eyes toward the unquestionable logic. "God, you're the worst. You're just her easy fuck and you'll still answer her late night calls, really."
She leaves the rest unsaid - that she's just not that into you.
"I don't tell you which boys or girls you can call up," you try, putting on a boot. "If you'd like, I can. Name off the list, and make sure that the right name leaves my mouth this time."
Hyeju doesn't blush when you glance up, which is the surprising thing. No - her cheeks have grown a little more sullen, and she stares down at her socks in contemplation. You're in the middle of fastening up the lace and getting to your feet, waiting, wondering if Hyeju's going to continue this conversation, when Hyeju takes one small step forward.
And her hand goes out to touch your chin, thumb at your lip, fingers holding it in place - like you'll turn if she lets it go - the sharp shock of the sensation like a short circuit, before her knee comes between yours, and your body tingles, at the root and stem. "Hey," she says, eyes meeting yours. The edge of her nail flicking gently as she drags the curve of her thumb downward.
"Hyeju, please - I need to get going."
When you start walking toward your car, she calls out from the window. Something about how you better have the time of your life, fun for the two of you - it’s only fair.
(You feel, somewhere, a certain strange loss.)
"What, are you going to stay up and wait until I come back? Or am I interrupting your session for the night."
You can barely make it out, the smallest look passing over her face. "Maybe," she says, and then: "god, it's fucking cold."
-
New year's parties have this sort of quality of being simultaneously the most thrilling, exciting prospect on earth and the absolute worst fucking event in the history of the planet - depending on the venue, how egregious the racket is for a gin and tonic, the guests - oh, and the company.
Jinsoul and Choerry are both in attendance; in separate corners and in equal states of undress and intoxication, which seems fine by every present party, who are for the most part busy ogling one or the other in the full spirit of the New Year - as you would too, if the stars are aligned and Heejin hasn't already gone upstairs with half the guestlist, her arm wound with someone else's, as per her recent habit; if you haven't been tossed aside for any of the usual, less forgettable prospects and for something bigger, better and certainly much more enjoyable.
Which, if there were any way to track these things down with math, you'd already be reaching for your pen and notebook, as Hyeju would describe this sensation in a phrase she picked up from some podcast. Inevitable means necessary, or something.
"Good party," says Heejin, throwing back another drink.
"Yep. You said that," and you finish yours in one long draw, hissing through your teeth.
Heejin is a goddamn delight, of course, in all the simplest of ways. When she looks up at you - mouth pink, hair framing her face - she is so clearly and completely aware of what she is, and exactly what the world has in store for her, what it has set aside.
"Do you want to know what happened at the other New Year’s party we went to last year?"
"I - yeah. Hit me. Tell me all about (another date you were on) Heejin, that’s exactly what I’d love, let’s hear it."
She throws her head back and laughs, before starting into an overlong recount of her latest, greatest conquest, you on the outside. This is the thing - this is how a pretty face, with just a hint of a flirt, will make you feel for a beautiful, attractive, vivacious - absolutely shameless, raving sex-crazed lunatic of sorts who, apparently, loves to run around town and make a bunch of your closest friends fall in love and heartbroke-er, with every passing notion of her beauty, her charm - just the tilt of her chin, and some poor fucker is lost, absolutely lost.
 Even she knows it's a bad habit of hers. 
But who doesn't have a weakness? You've got plenty of your own - plenty, Heejin can admit - everyone does, in a way, and so Heejin, the other sloppy drunks milling about the party, and Choerry and Jinsoul all agree - someone like her just happens to have the best kind of weakness - so, so many of them, in fact:
"Can you believe how easily a few words get Jinsoul riled up? Or how it only takes a couple drinks for Choerry to pull up the hem of her skirt, not knowing the effect that'll have?"
And as for the last, and arguably worst kind -
"Hyeju, huh? What a great start to the New Year," is her final word. Heejin reaches across and downs your drink. Her expression turns just shy of grave, a pensive look. "Not your smartest idea, the living-together situation. Who in their right mind would put themselves in such a mess?"
"Thanks for the great advice." You wave her off, irritated.
There's another laugh before Heejin leans her face onto the table.
"Though maybe she's onto something, now that I think of it. Who needs anyone for the New Year?" and it's almost convincing the way her mouth, lined up with the rim of the glass, smirks when she drinks. "Mm. All a matter of taste."
-
The snow is halfway up your calves when you realize you need to find a cab at 11:30 PM on New Year's Eve. (Which, categorically, is the worst time to need to find a cab on New Year’s Eve.)
Or just:
11:36 PM and the nearest bus stop is too far away.
11:41 and the temperature feels like its dropped by fifteen degrees, like you should start wondering what hypothermia symptoms look like and what signs to look out for in yourself, your future wife and your children. You try not to think about why, but you get your phone out and immediately call Hyeju, so you're not sure what you think you're denying.
"No party?" she asks. Her voice is distant and sleep-ridden, but Hyeju's quick to pick up, like always.
"It sucked, I'm trying to find a way home early. Happy New Year."
"Happy New Year." There's a long pause, filled in by the squeak of snow beneath your boots. "Get a kiss?"
"Uh, not yet. In the market, I guess."
Hyeju's low hum isn't reassuring, either. "Well, you're kind of missing your window. Bad time to start looking."
"Says you, and here you are - still up for someone to spend the night with. Look at you," you respond, all this snark in your voice that she clearly hears. There's a long sigh.
"Actually," and Hyeju, much to the confusion of you and possibly the whole world, doesn't respond, and for a few seconds, the line goes completely silent, leaving you hanging.
She breathes once and comes out of her sleep with a yawn.
"I actually," she begins. There's a lot less preamble this time - this tone - and when she speaks again it comes through not nearly as sleepy, "was sorta wondering. Are you on your way home?"
"If I don't freeze to death, yeah."
"Yeah - no, yeah," and that's it. That's the sum total of what makes any difference between where you were a moment ago, and where you are right now, head spinning, fingers buzzing. Hyeju waits and there's the wind on the line, snow settling on your hat and in the corners of your face.
"I - sorry. I probably woke you up. Are you expecting someone else," you say, very small. Your foot drags behind the other. The cars whizz by you faster, passing.
"Hm. You're the only one, I guess," and after that - just static and the muffled sounds of her footsteps on creaky floorboards - or the tick of her ceiling fan? You can't make heads or tails of the rest of the background noise. All those words she said.
You bite your tongue to stop whatever curse words start pouring out from the jumble and cross streets, or the pedestrian underpass; snow gets stuck in your lashes and burns, but your chest is like a molten furnace. You consider telling her right there on the line, everything you're feeling - so hot, it feels like fire, Hyeju, I'm not used to getting heated and desperate and impatient - that even if you're not here now - just imagining your face - the sound of your breathing, it feels like I'm on the cusp.
"Yeah. Sure - good - okay, Hyeju."
"I guess, see you soon?"
"In a bit."
(It takes 33 minutes, trudging through cold and wet. It's all very dramatic, you think, and there's no one there to even watch you suffer for it, or - though you try not to think about that particular line - really, no one at all.)
-
You hear the way your key grinds in the lock - it's been like this, jammed since summer, when you pushed the front door in late at night a little too hard and something came undone and made a sound like a small stone tumbling down the world's deepest well. The hinge squeaks, and there's ice on the stoop, on the doormat, on every nook and corner you can see, all the way up your neck.
And your face, too. You shake off your hat, undo the buttons on your jacket, and pull off your boots before hanging them and all the layers to dry.
You can make out the outline of her profile at the edge of the door frame, right in the kitchen - barefoot, hip pressed against the island, pajamas - the dim lights illuminating the shadow of her head, hair over her face -
- but you don't pause. The next layer. There's nothing left to say. You're too cold for excuses, too smart to use the same ones you'd been taught, like: this is a normal, acceptable circumstance; everything, anything, will be perfectly normal if the two of us act as though that's the case; pretend we're both acting within the norms of reason, within our senses and logical thinking and I won't make myself go out in the cold a second more - won't stand for more than five minutes with your eyes looking like they're waiting.
So you move instead toward the kitchen, where the heating is better and she's already pouring coffee. There's a heat radiating out of the oven, and it smells sweet in there, like cinnamon and warm butter, and you wish you weren't still shaking, blood barely thawed, but there it is - her face, watching you - eyes gleaming as you wrap your hands around a mug, steam rising up - a shiver running up your arms; her knees skirting yours when she takes one step back and there's the cabinet door shut, then open again, and then a palm on your back.
Hyeju presses a cup of the fresh coffee, now warm enough to drink, to your chest, and says, softly. "What the fuck happened out there?"
She starts reaching out to wipe the frost and slush from your face. You let her hand hold you still, eyes wide.
"Oh you know," and her palm stays, even though it's obviously - suddenly - gotten warmer, and wetter too, and the longer she stands there and lets her fingers warm the pale bones of your cheeks, her wrist, the base of your forehead and ears, the more expectant the look on her face grows. "The usual."
Her eyes go as narrow as they ever can. For just a moment. "You're gonna die a slow, pathetic death someday, just for the record."
"Don't forget how this starts," you try, and feel your neck go warm, throat and breath tight. And not even when her shoulders shift, her mouth going smug - just looking at you.
“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”
"Like what?" you ask.
"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."
You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."
“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone you actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"
"Utterly deranged."
"So wild."
When Hyeju sighs and gives a long, nonchalant hum, leaning her body closer, pressing up until her waist hits the cabinet top and you're pressed together chest-to-chest, she looks at you and her hips settle, the heel of her foot reaching around your calf.
There's that tingle. Again and again. You're not even trying to not think about what it might mean.
But then, you start, silently and unconsciously, trying to answer the question: why don't you, maybe. Why don't you, actually - Hyeju kisses you, pulls on the loop of your jeans and lets your lips brush the corners of hers and pulls away, suddenly, mumbling and head-turning. And just as abruptly, your nose buries in the space between her neck and her shoulder, where it's all warm. And when she puts her palms on your hips and squeezes and twists her knuckles into the fabric there, it seems she wants your hands up her shirt and under the small of her back.
And her hands - they're fidgety tonight, fingers curled up to keep their nails and the chill away, moving lower - one on your ass, while the other comes forward and begins rubbing circles, a handful of times - enough so you're letting a deep, low breath escape into the space just above her collar, your knee working its way between hers.
"That," Hyeju breathes, lips at your ear, hand reaching down to trace the hard curve of your cock pressing in the spot right between you, and there's that small rush again, familiar now, like you've caught a rhythm and she wants to feel it in its fullness: "is how you can make it up to me. For making me stay up. Worrying about you, god knows why. Waiting."
You're still half-frozen in a way, slowly thawing. "Hyeju, I've been trudging through the consequences of my actions this entire night. What am I about to suffer through now?"
"It's no consequence, honestly."
You squint.
"Just an idea, but," she breathes again; your bodies getting closer, and looking up at you, she grins and reaches down to touch the very root of you, her fingers drumming. You make a sound, and at that she says, her voice coming out thick, low:
"Want me to get you off?"
She squeezes again for good measure, just to be clear. Just a slight curl of fingers that's enough to send a flash of heat and the transient thought: why, why, why is she always wearing those fucking shorts, even in the winter?
Your blood thrums through the pulse at the end of your cock. You shake.
"Alright," is the response you let out.
And at that, Hyeju takes your wrist and leads you upstairs.
"There's that look. Don't worry. We'll find a way," is all she says as your feet walk forward, up step-by-step and higher and further up to her room. "After all, isn't that what we've always done?"
"It's usually whatever will make me stop talking."
Hyeju puts her chin on your shoulder. Her eyes follow the lines and shapes in the patterns of wallpaper as you turn onto her side of the apartment, and even through the wall and behind the doorway, her arm still around you, she pulls at your chin until your faces turn and you both can share each other's heat.
"Who, you and your awful habit of talking out-loud in your head while you work through equations?" and she brings her lips to yours, close and warm.
"Hey. Fuck you," and your voice breaks into an odd, low laughter when she kisses you harder.
"Yeah, I know," she whispers as her hand dives past the band of your boxers, palm sliding easily until she's gripping you fully and letting her fingers rub. She holds you there, in her room, her arm looped through yours, another arm resting at your belly.
And she stops there. She stays like that: holding your gaze.
"Look, Hyeju," you say, unable to not, though this can hardly count for anything; this, what you're about to admit, is nothing new. You swallow. "The thing is - you shouldn't."
"Don't want me to touch you?" she says, finger to your lips.
"Well, that's different. Maybe. Is there - maybe it's not the best thing to ask you right now."
Hyeju considers for a brief moment and tuts under her breath. "Can you at least do me the decency of waiting until I'm done wringing you dry before you say shit like that."
And she moves then, toward the bed.
So:
No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows, you tell yourself. Maybe, but only because you'll do anything if it makes you feel less sick, like a creature standing over its own skeleton - an abandoned shell; a relic, something to be feared and disgusted, as you let her go between your thighs, kneel beside the bed.
"I mean - since when - have you felt," is just as far as you're allowed to go before Hyeju presses her nose into you and pulls you out of the thin, cold fabric - palm, thumb, all those slender fingers swiping over your head - and now there's just the smell of her room and the shock, the buzz that runs down your spine and settles somewhere, somewhere inside the small and desperate movement of your hips and the tension building just below.
And god, fuck, Hyeju’s lips.
These soft, wet, pouty fucking things that could suck you straight off if you were feeling any less stupid or inexperienced or sentimental - if she wasn't solely intent on teasing it out of you first; a slow drag of the tongue up the underside; the tip of it poking, tracing the rim, like she's figured you out, just where to lead you. She's ready to smoke you out - always - until you're not taking in a breath every ten seconds but starting to close your eyes to the overwhelming, needling pleasure, too sharp, the way she knows you like best.
"Now you're finally - mm - starting to sound hot," and that smirk comes back to the corner of her mouth, teasing the sensitive belly of your cock and tracing her tongue everywhere. "With the voice and -"
You're losing track, her thumb and fingers circling the whole length of you - just, one after the other - mouth a hair-breadth away, her breath hovering like a promise.
"- that face."
"Don't, fucking tease me-"
The sound of your cock going in is like nothing else.
Wet and filthy in all the right ways.
Just the suction in her throat has your eyes nearly roll back into your head - Hyeju's gaze calmly watching the terrible sort of helplessness that washes over you like this: her lips wrapped around, bobbing - her hair falling into the wet mess of her mouth and sticking there. Hyeju likes being a little sloppy, likes feeling that spark run up the length of her tongue when she slides. It's the wet and the heat that gives everything away.
"I don't have much of a choice -" her jaw and chin is smudged when she pulls back off of your cock, mouth glossy and glistening, "and honestly, wouldn't it be a better use of our time, or my talents if I actually do that thing?"
“Which is?”
She looks up for a bit and sighs, the flush blooming pink to the tip of her ears and into the rounds of her cheeks and all across her neck. "Since, as far as I can see, what you really like - is, oh I'm just spit-balling here," and she stops just to bite her tongue and look into your eyes, "it's letting the girls take care of you? Isn't that right?"
You want to tell her, no, not always, that it's not as though you enjoy giving control completely - that that would be completely and unarguably, the opposite of true -
That most of the time you love it when the person you're with is a little bossy, a little crazy for you. You know some guys really get off on a strong woman and maybe, maybe if a girl's pretty and dressed up, and - sure - a little wet, but that's hardly -
“You know I’m right,” she says, a flicker of mischief skittering across her features. “These walls are paper thin.”
You want to tell her, perhaps remind her, that she likes someone in charge just as much as you do - to be taken care of, told what to do - to have a hand curled up around her throat and the other at her tits while a guy fucks her the right way and takes the reigns when she needs. So who are you, when it comes to knowing her better? And who, really, are you fooling?
But before you can get any words in: Hyeju dips, lips parting where the head of your cock throbs, and then disappears; and the hot wet warmth, enveloping all around your shaft and back; the curve of her throat contracting.
You moan - a lot, and louder this time - into the whole feeling. The way her fingers work the distance from the base, twisting and twisting and twisting into the pout of her lips; or how the sound is like nothing - a whimpering, messy sound - almost a whine and definitely not a slurp as your cock sinks further and further, until it's all one big, heavy throb.
And it's like Hyeju can read your thoughts, the visual you have of her lips screwed tight around your shaft - cum leaking from the corners, and her eyes scrunched up tight, as she looks up to watch your face unravel - this perfect image of her taking you, all of you, swallowing each drop as your hips start rutting up into her and - and - and.
Or else she gets impatient, because then Hyeju gives one long pull off the tip of your cock - saliva mixed in the precum there, and that shiny string of fluid hanging, caught in the middle between your bodies - a disgusting and irresistible sight. Her jaw slack, lips swollen and full, and her mouth gone wide open, wanting.
"Fuck - that's good. Don't stop," you start to whimper, desperate, at the sight, the smell. Her hot breath coming quick over the red wanting wetness left behind - then touched by the cold air - fuck -
She slaps your cock to the corner of her lips as she speaks.
"Can you believe what's going on down here?"
"God, can you -"
"And to think most guys wanna jump straight in. That or fuck a load out between my tits."
"Hyeju, shit, come on -"
She kisses the soft tip, right where it’s most sensitive, rolls it along her lip. Then, back down the length of your shaft where she's generous with her mouth inch after inch - lapping, licking, laving - and Hyeju begins working her way down and downward, nestling in at the edge of the bed and between your thighs.
Your eyes blow up the first time she dips low enough to put your balls in her mouth. 
“Mmhm,” she hums.
It’s killing you and she knows it; it’s killing you and she can feel the pre-cum leaking from your slit - the thumb she has moored there, keeping everything right where she wants it, running circles up the length with such little intention - she could bring you to the end just like this. 
"Am I supposed to believe it?” she asks out from beneath the shadow of your cock, looking up at you with her eyes all wide and brilliant - pupils dark as sin. “That not a single one of those girls ever did you proper?"
You curse under your breath. Hyeju seems amused, at least, like she can't help but love doing that to you, which is almost worse and honestly the sexiest thing a girl can be. You groan - wanton, raw and desperate and feeling exactly what she wants you to feel when her nails drag along the dip of your hip bones.
"Did they not leave you fucked-up the right way?"
Her wrist flicks out these twists and turns, making your spine bend to her control. Like even when you're sure to be bundling her hair in your fingers and fucking the whole length of your cock down her throat, all of this is the worst kind of power-trip for her - not the other way around.
Her tongue runs through the tangle of your balls, slowly, lasciviously, as though the plan is to memorize and map every detail. 
And the worst part is, how much it's making you desperate for the warmth of her mouth - where she'll run her tongue up and down and over and around and inside - before sucking you off nice and slow.
"Or maybe," she laughs; another flick to the top and then suddenly her hand goes faster and the fist pumping the rest of you tightens. "They left you so needy you're resorting to having the bestie suck you off so that you won't be desperate the next time you date. Oh my god-" 
Hyeju breaks into this fit of laughter, and you're nearly cross-eyed at the feeling of your entire existence - not just your cock - so wholly held within her mercy, and her pity, and you're breathing so shallow now you'd think this is the real reason people have died and will die - this exact moment where you're choking and stuttering at the edges, so very close to cumming and going absolutely bonkers with how good Hyeju is with her hands, her tongue, her mouth - everything - how much she's wrecking you, and your jaw drops, wide open, her name dripping like molasses off your lower lip.
"Are you going to cum?" she asks, curiously. All as if she can't see you nodding, collapsing under pressure, and then and there: "should we make it official?"
Her nose tickles the seam of your balls. And your toes begin to curl and uncurl - all this anticipatory, coiling pleasure burning from her throat, shooting from the pit of your stomach; the tightening spiral, twinging and stretching every nerve - as her lips enclose around the end of your cock, softly.
And oh, just excruciatingly slowly.
You watch the irresistible shape of her mouth travel down until her throat feels so incredibly, beautifully, and unbelievably tight, and then, just like that - Hyeju starts fucking herself onto you; pushing forward and down the full, rigid length of you, hard and fast - each time hitting deeper inside her - all that sticky, messy, wet squelching.
"Unh-unh, yeah. Unh. Mm-!" you say, or moan, or some animal version of that, maybe, it’s incoherent.
But regardless:
It's messy and your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets of her bed when you feel that snap, the tightening of a trigger; when your balls roll up and it builds, and builds, and it comes faster - harder and -
"Hyeju," you pant, and it sounds so, so filthy. "I'm gonna cum, if you - gonna cum-"
Hyeju pulls you free from her lips, quite possibly at the most final of final moments, to rub the base up and down, just right, between her fingers. Your cock is resting right on her cheek when it all happens. When she squeezes her fingers around your balls just enough to hear you wheeze and make a sound no sane man should have the right to. And fuck, you're cumming all over her face - or just one side of it - which is already just -
Okay, fuck.
She makes a startled sound and her fist closes tightly around your shaft when you pump another fresh load of white up onto her eyebrow.
"I'm, ah-shit," your mouth moves faster than the blood in your veins - and now the shame - oh god, the humiliation, it's pulsing right behind you. "Hyeju," you apologize.
Only, Hyeju has no interest in any of it. She doesn't seem offended or disappointed in proportion to how you're ruining her pretty face: "no, just do it, cum wherever you fucking like."
Which isn't what you're expecting at all, because Hyeju makes no effort to close her lips, let alone avoid any of it; nor is she making a fuss about the sticky mess in her hair, her mouth, nor as another stream of cum throbs from your cock, all tangled up in the long dark eyelashes that sweep down across her cheek.
It’s fucking filthy: you're cumming all over her and she's just kneeling there, telling you, "good boy."
See, she pushes through it, languidly - all those filthy sounds, and those watery little tears gathering at the edge of her eye and all of that, mixing up together until you're rolling your head back with your orgasm, shuddering, feeling weak - drained dry -
Except,
Hyeju's pushing a finger to your chest, kneeling up tall from the side of the bed. She turns her body toward the center of the bed and wipes a bit of the cum on her knuckles into the sheets. Here you feel like you've done something terrible or at least regrettable, like that last round at the bar when you have a test the next morning; a dick move, all of the sort that requires apology.
"You gotta give me a minute, if you're thinking about hopping on."
"Hmm. Sounds like a lot to ask."
"Wait," you grab her arm. Hyeju grins and there's nothing stopping the shake of your knees now, that weakness between your thighs: "let me get you a drink."
"Or."
"Or?"
Her tongue peeks out, running along her upper lip. Her eyes drop again, hands dipping below, beneath the hem of her shorts and oh. She slips a hand past her bra. The whole outline of it. And you -
"Mm, I could show you what that actually means." She lowers her chest, her breasts, and a lot of skin to the mattress while keeping your cock firmly in her hands. "That look tells me you wanna stick around a bit. Stay up past New Year’s, you know?"
You're almost unable to parse her words, there is so much to look at: the jutting curve of her chest, cleavage pressing into the mattress as her body settles between your knees. A soft chuckle; a sigh: "you are seriously the best lay, no-one else can get hard the minute after they just fucking exploded all over me-"
"Fuck, watch it," you hiss, because there's oversensitivity - and then there's Hyeju's mouth on the line of your cock, polishing you clean.
And it’s not that she isn’t trying to prove a point. Or that she's not trying to tease - that's an inherent quality of her character: a naturally dominant position with a high appetite for your lust. That much, Hyeju gets from you, whether you've got your head down between her thighs or the other way, too, so that her neck is arched around and her ass pushed up high in the air, legs open, and if she had any idea you would spend the next twenty minutes or more just going down on her, licking into her creaming cunt while two fingers work over her aching clit, then really, Hyeju would only encourage it - maybe get on top, force you to gag - and so you don't know where it comes from - how and why you want nothing more than to drive your fingers inside her and work her until she's a wet, squelching mess, not when this was always Hyeju's role of being the aggressor; and yes, sure, even the aggressed.
Surely not because you came so hard, still somewhat shivering with the remnants of a rather abrupt, painful, sudden and all-consuming orgasm.
"We're not doing anything else," she says, lips pulled up into a smirk right at the crown of your cockhead. But before you can respond she pushes a hot open kiss, and goes lower. She presses the flat of her tongue to the seam, just below the head. Licks a line right up to the tip and finishes with a tender flick that sends you fisting the bedspread in your fingers and leaning back as your mind begins to disintegrate -
"I'm not going to ride you yet, or going to get my hips in your hands so you can fuck my pussy real hard until I cry and pass out. Nothing of that sort is gonna happen." She licks one long drag of her tongue. Then, the other way. "I want to make this very clear: this isn't some huge favor - and if you want it - want it so bad, you can stay there and I'm going to do everything for you. We will get there - together," and with her voice shaking as she brings the wet, glistening skin of your cock just inside her mouth, she looks up. "We'll get each other off, just like this," and it's the deep, dark, throated moan that makes your thighs and all the nerves in between stiffen and buck when she swallows you again.
Hyeju's hands tug, pull her whole body closer still as it slowly bends, curves - her ass raised, her stomach lying on the bed. Her mouth takes you another few inches, until the tip of her nose is barely visible, but when she pauses to lick the cum still left over - the cum that's starting to leak out again - to breathe through it, then squeeze her palm and bob her mouth down, take another inch, until the sides are stuffed and emptying out again, that's when she finally has something to say: "got anything left? I'm a little starved."
"I. Christ, yes-" you whine, which doesn't help your case at all: the image, the image of you lying flat - back with Hyeju's head tucked between your knees, her hand pulling out your cock.
Sloppy, slimy-wet.
She presses an innocent, not-at-all-innocent kiss right to your tip, puckering - 
"You know what I did learn in that genetics class?" she muses, tongue flicking over her lips. Hyeju's about ready for a second helping - you're losing it. "When I first saw that DNA diagram - the double helix and all those little base pairs, and everything - it made me think of your cock. Your cock and me. Specifically our DNA. Did you know-"
She presses her palm over the head and rolls it - teases and strokes her palm - her knuckles - her fist - the whole nine. "When I hold your big fucking cock, mm, and just get it right - up in here, rubbing all along my walls - so deep, it gets me in my fucking ribs, makes me choke like I never been choked before, ah-mm," and it's this thought sliding toward the front of your mind, this perfect picture: Hyeju, getting fucked hard and open and stuffed full and stuffed good and stupid; you’ve got more than a few inches on her, can make her feel small and delicate; you know how to do her right.
But here you have Hyeju stroking the shaft - holding her hand tightly up near the head, rolling and twisting and sliding down and pushing her whole body right into the side of your legs: the soft, solid length, warm flesh and curves everywhere pressing into you.
You sit back, and just watch Hyeju with her eyes cool and composed, like half of her fucking face isn't streaked with your cum, mouth wrapped and looking fucking satisfied to be a total, gorgeous mess. She makes a dramatic display of kissing the tip again, just before telling you words you probably dreamt up at some point - either sleep deprived, or, during three AM jackoff, fantasizing. "Sometimes, just from riding your cock, I can't sit up straight."
"Fuck," and you feel your whole body run rigid, because apparently that's something you’ve been aching to hear.
You're covering her mouth again. White streaking onto her lips - where she's catching it in the well beneath her tongue and letting it spill out of the corner of her mouth. Into the crook of your thumb, which catches a drip here and there and rubs it down the length - down the curve - and pushes it back between Hyeju's pert little pout.
"Doesn't count, mister, just more pre-cum," she says, all with the audacity of a wink and smile; her words are a little garbled around the head of your cock between her teeth. And when you nod and realize just how painfully your jaw hurts, your throat becomes tight and raw, a knot pulling the underside from the center. Hyeju slides her lips lower, lower down, to the hilt and stays there, just like that - one hand holding down the flat of your belly to keep your hips still, her chin hanging - bobbing-as she feels every pulse, every twitching shift. You curl one hand around the side of her face, over the sharp edge of her jaw; rub a thumb into the delicate skin of her throat.
She shifts. You start to tell her what you like: how hot the rush comes when a girl puts her tongue against the slit at the very tip, and licks at the precum in nice, quick circles, soft and fluttering. And how her fingers shouldn't hesitate either, Hyeju's not even struggling to give it to you - god - just giving and -
She jerks her head up, swallowing down her next breath like it's one of her last. "I'm serious, if you're going to fuck a hole, start with my mouth - we can move onto everything else after."
"You're ridiculous -"
She meets her lips to your head, kissing once. Again. Kissing every inch, letting her mouth wrap around and then just - staying, just - staying like that and humming, with you, enjoying the fullness, the smell of you, the taste, the shape, just the weight and size and you.
There is spit fucking everywhere.
And if it's not clear what you're supposed to be doing - her fingers weave through yours, squeezing hard at the wrist and you can imagine: pulling her forward by her hair and holding her down while she chokes on your cock. "Fuck, Hyeju," you say, and your voice comes out way shakier than you'd like, "when, how did it get like this, huh? You always - always did, shit, always want your mouth filled."
"Never figured you to be someone who'd get turned on watching their friend sucking their cock like this."
"Doesn't everybody love the sight of their cock in a pretty girl's mouth?
"You were really convinced they weren't lining up behind you? Or anyone in the queue who can't keep their eyes off of this thing. Tell me, and try not to lie, try not to bullshit this one out: how many girls have you come home and fucked and creamed their brains out - then asked for the sloppiest, most -"
"Honestly."
"- Filthiest, nasty, ball-busting, gut-wrenching blowjob ever to make them think - to make them really start wondering what the hell it was you did - like it's gotta be something that leaves them so ruined, they can't ever not compare - can't ever not compare this moment, right here. Ever. When you give them the hardest fucking of their life, compared to any other guy - can't not, because no-one, literally no-one's cock can fuck like you do-"
"Fuck-"
"Any harder. Come on, seriously, tell me it isn't true. Come on."
Her voice - her fucking words, the tone she uses and how her words roll: honey-warm and soaking with sweet, thick degradation - she talks like sex, and that's exactly what gets you harder, like it’s something else; like it’s nothing, like it’s less, so much worse - you feel this guilty-dirty heat pool at your tailbone and push down the hard press of you throbbing all the way to her nose. And Hyeju smiles as much as she's capable around the fat, round stretch, humming around the warm taste of you, before opening wide and sinking her throat on it.
There's nothing like it.
You've got two fists in her hair; she's so tight and wet around every god-damn inch. Her cheeks flush - hot to the touch; her tongue laving in slow, long drags, slicking your shaft nice and warm until you're balls-deep and pushing her further: a small shift to the hips, a push here, a harder, faster pull, and Hyeju's feet behind her go curling like an angry cat, wanting the tug.
A long, satisfied breath slips from the hollows of her throat.
There are tears threatening, thickening her lashes, and though she doesn't choke - you're just afraid. Every sound that she pulls out, her eyes blinking up to you as if it's only natural to love getting used by her friend's cock, like the very premise of it - swallowing down the very shape of you, dragged over her tongue and brushing cum into the back of her throat - is something she can’t go without.
But this is nothing compared to the noises from where her lips are pressed tight around you, where you're hearing and even feeling:
That gluck, gluck - where her chest spasms just the slightest when her nose gets nuzzled right into your belly and you remember how much she likes to hear you talk dirty, how fucking wet it gets her. The heavy, deep breaths, gasps; the strangled moans when your hips just buck - the heat and the thrill, and this is better than every other time because there's just something in this moment -
"I'm not gonna come again, not like this. Not in your mouth. You can’t-"
But Hyeju refuses to hear a word; just pumps your shaft faster, feeling it's familiar hardness grow and throb and ache and retch, all her effort paying off: you're slick with precum and spit, hard and straining, the whole shaft begging for release - all because of her. And Hyeju won't stop, she pushes her cheek onto your thigh and then taps a hand there to pull your hips. The motion drives your cock further still inside her. Until it’s bathed in her spit, your cum, all this mess.
Until it's reaching, choking her, and the muffled sounds she's making are filthy and wet and so incredulously hot.
But god. Hyeju has something of a temper and a habit, too: with those big beautiful eyes and the perfect plump of her pouting lips, her tits swelling up around, when your grip slips on her shoulder, and her mouth goes tighter - how the pleasure begins to make you unbearably cruel and you push her away from you, only for a second -
She doesn't wait or seem to care; Hyeju follows the cock with her whole head and whimpers so hotly in her throat when it plops right back on her tongue. "That's more - more like - fuck, oh, there we go," her nose and fingers prodding.
You groan through a high, strangled whimper, a helpless shiver that turns into an uncontrollable roll of the hips - you can't believe it: she's already so thoroughly debauched and defaced; just fucking painted with it. Your cum dripping off her chin and rolling down her neck.
"Fuck - gonna make me - ah, Jesus -"
When Hyeju seems to have reached her fill, the feeling, you're cumming - pumping the length of your shaft. And the moment she feels you twitch and throb and that first hot spill lands in the bend of her mouth, it's as if she understands and holds herself tight - her legs going stock-still while your eyes blow up behind her, your cock spewing another and then another thick, milky load into her mouth, over her tongue: all along the topography of her throat - sticky cum landing in every ridge and valley -
Hyeju catches as much as she can. What little she can. You cum and pump and gush so much that when you're finally finished - done - every last drop spent and given - your cock throbs soft between her fingers; her chin is a complete and utter mess and her chest heaves with the sound of her catching her own breath. Hyeju groans softly and just swishes the load around in her mouth for a bit as if wanting to remember its feel and weight before lifting her eyes to look into yours. You can just barely see the color.
"Jesus, Hyeju-"
The entire bit of it, slick and shining-wet. With a small moan, a sound from the back of her throat: one swallow and the cum is gone, disappeared, vanished. She smiles like she didn't just ruin your entire goddamn life and, with her body limp and exhausted beside you - her gentle hand rubbing a flat stroke over your thigh before yours slips up to meet her chin.
"You," you curse and roll your eyes, catching the mess at the edge of her jaw, the very little left in the corners of her lips. You feed the cum over her bottom lip - her chin, her throat - watching your friend: Hyeju's throat, bobbing. "Really didn't have to," you start, but you realize just how useless a point it is to make.
She's smiling and biting and showing you what's left between the tips of her canines. "Do you always do this to the people who suck you off?"
"That's an awful habit. A pretty girl's lips aren't meant to get that messy," you reply.
"Oh." She frowns. "Well, I do a lot of things I shouldn't."
"God, seriously," and you think there's no greater hell, no sweeter pain than whatever's lingering in these little aftershocks - this fizzling and dying sort of pain, where the body is buzzed with all you're aching for. It's impossible to stop this train of thoughts, is the fucking feeling of her-
But just then, Hyeju rises to her knees, a new spark in her eyes, as she grabs ahold of your wrist and tugs you off the sheets, a few inches closer.
"And you," she purrs as she drags the palm of your hand across her neck and collarbone, collecting what remains and making the perfect image, "well - you are going to help clean me up, like you said before." She sits tall; the arch of her spine is pronounced - her back, so, very, slightly tapering, to where your hand slips right off the last of it: the wide flare of her hips. "Now isn't that the gentleman's thing to do?" she asks.
"Of course." You sigh, resigned and in desperate need of water. "Of course," you add and smirk a little and slip your hand lower, toward where her skin is getting hot, and her body, "let's get you clean."
"Mm." She's already grinning. "You know what wasn't in those textbooks?"
"Oh, I can only guess." You bite your cheek and start to lower yourself back. "Give it a try."
Hyeju drags you by the wrist toward the hall, the bathroom, ostensibly the shower -
"There's no way in hell you don't want to put a baby in me, like, right fucking now."
"Is that what we're doing?"
Hyeju makes a face like you're stupid - she might've grabbed a towel on the way out. She wipes her chin a little while walking - the corner of her mouth where, well - where it looks like a little dribble has somehow remained. "No. But you’re going to fuck me like it is."
-
(There's got so much on her mind. 
The door of the shower rattling in its frame as she struggles standing up against it. Getting fucked so fast and full, the feeling of both your hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts. It's not the fact of where you are and your situation, per say - more about the immediate, the imperative nature. About fucking you. She was already feeling herself like, leaking the moment the door shut, so all that waiting, all that patience, really - and it's what drove her insane when you were, well: like that, after she put her mouth around your cock, made a right and proper mess of herself, and sucked you off.
Though there's less on her mind, clearly, when she cums all over your cock.
She's crying with her tits up onto the glass, your palm holding her ribs. Your cum-slick cock working itself hard again as it slips, back and forth, as you're fucking her open, spread apart. It's your finger in her asshole. That's what's on her mind then. How the press of your knuckle lights her entire fucking spine on fire - how the other hand finds her clit in all this, too, when you're no longer supporting the both of you but rather Hyeju is folding on her bent knee and trusting, on shaking and shivering, raw nerves, that you're not going to collapse.
"Fucking. God, please-"
There's the harsh slap of flesh - skin on wet skin, your palms against the sides of her ass and the curve of the breast. But otherwise - it's you, sighing - soft and gentle, like you can't get over the feel of her. "Hyeju, oh-fucking, god, fucking," is what you're saying, and it doesn't end up really mattering which one of you came last because she can feel you twitching, squelching in and out with how badly you're wanting to explode inside, but also you can feel her cunt absolutely begging, this fucking fluttering and clamping down on every thrust and the moment you manage to grind this angle she loses her ability to speak properly because you're not just, like - fucking her-
Just, absolutely, completely pounding her pussy, stretching her insides, dragging and sliding along the walls; each rough rub and thrust makes her knees quiver until her body is trembling and falling. But mostly her voice, the sharp gasp that shakes into her, how her nails are scraping the walls of the shower stall and she's saying - telling, crying and asking and wondering and pleading - just utterly astounded:
"Amazing," she huffs, breathes coming out cloudy and true onto the pane of glass, "you - it’s, fucking amazing.")
-
“And I am… Ironman.”
Your eyes flicker awake, hazy, as Tony Stark snaps his fingers, killing himself alongside Thanos’ army in the process.
The TV's long been running on background noise, though not as ambient. Its characters now bickering between the rubble and ruins and being picked up for the end credits. In the dark of the screen, you see Hyeju had nodded off and slumped over the side of your body. A new year means new beginning means resolutions and diets and gym routines -
Maybe no sooner than the sun can come up, apparently.
You lean over to grab your phone from the table: 4:14 A.M.
There's a lot of things you want to say, even more you want to hear, but your mind has begun to settle a bit - a lazy and dreamy thing that fills you with this sort of, tired kind of - not sad, or empty - no, of course not. That's hardly fitting; not after tonight. You want to wrap this in an idealistic sort of sentiment - maybe hold Hyeju close and let the hour carry you and the comfort be enough to forgive whatever there is to miss: like the fact, it's still really dark, so dark even outside. The moon reflecting off the sheet of snow on the street. And not even a distant dog barking, or car driving by or someone playing loud music in the early hours of the new year.
As the film drifts off into another set of commercials, you slip into an easy sleep that feels effortless. Your head drops, landing on the cushion by the arm of the couch, where Hyeju's hand begins to slip mindlessly across your belly, tickling your waist and causing you to slightly squirm - things are cooling down, but still a little agitated.
"Don't tell me you're waking me up, cause I just -"
She kisses the pulse at your throat and answers, mumbling half-words into the spot below your ear. "A kiss for a new year."
And maybe the world doesn't owe you anything at all.
Maybe it just gave you more than enough.
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jeongharine · 1 year ago
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⚝ wonwoo x reader
⚝ comedy, light smut
⚝ notes: the one where jeon wonwoo is your nerdy math tutor. but he’s unexpectedly hot. and you’re his friend’s sister. obviously. (part ii)
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“a pc bang?” “yes she’s always there,” says hoshi, while munching down his sandwich.
“but i can’t teach her there-” “of course you can’t, but you’ll find her there. it’s the one on the left around the corner,”
“now, remind me why i am doing this,” “because you’re my friend and i’m fantastic at being one,”
wonwoo just gulps down his apple juice, looking at the time on his phone.
“you should change this narrative, it’s getting boring,” “wonu, i just need you to do me this favour because if she doesn’t pass this class it’ll be a problem, okay?”
a sigh. “yes, that’s fine. but only for this class okay?” hoshi grins, all teeth “you’re the best,”
“yeah.. i better be going then, i hope she’s a well-mannered student otherw-” wonwoo says, setting off.
“oh.. about that..” “what?” he stops.
“nothing, she listens well,” hoshi says, scratching the back of his head.
x
she listens well when she wants to, he should have said.
not that this a surprise for wonwoo, knowing her brother. but damn, this girl is getting on his nerves.
“okay y/n, let me be clear. your brother begged me to give you lessons, so now please can we go to the library?”
“nu-uh, i have a tournament here this afternoon. we can do another day,” you crack your fingers and re-position your chair.
“see, maybe this is why you’re not getting through this class. you can do the tournament another day, it’s more important to study matrix systems to pass the exam than gaming,”
“boooooring, i will do that tonight if i feel like it okay? i don’t need your-” you turn your chair around to face him. “...help...”
since when your brother’s friends were this handsome. holy fuck, with that cap on before you couldn’t see anything and maybe he should have kept it on for your sanity. fuck. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. fuckity fuck.
you can see that he is deeply annoyed by your behaviour, probably he’s used to people who take academic life very seriously. nah, he’s friend with hoshi so. you scoff a laugh.
and he’s just there, looking at you, waiting for an answer.
or maybe to beg you.
“but on second thoughts...” you begin to say, “we can come to an agreement..” “that is?” he shifts in his position.
“we game for about an hour, because you game and i can see that just by looking at your face. and then, we can look at the first two chapters of maths analysis. i think this we’ll do, yes.” you grin widely.
and he hates to admit that the grinning suits you best.
wonwoo promised hoshi that he would have at least gotten through the matrix systems today with you, but here he is. without a fucking clue of what to do.
and you are just looking at him smiling prettily, as if you absolutely don’t know how charming and good-looking you are.
so wonwoo just sighs, and turns his head to glance at the pc screen near him.
even his side profile is pretty, you think to yourself.
“fine. but at least let’s play some battlegrounds.”
“can’t promise you anything,” you say pleasantly, eyes creasing in a glittering smile that suddenly makes wonwoo skittish.
x
“do you want to fuck my brains out?”
the air in his little dorm becomes unbearably stuffy all of a sudden but you refuse to let it show, after finally voicing the thoughts that were possessing your head for the past few weeks.
wonwoo turns to face you, looking far more collected. you never would have thought it would all come to a head like this in his room on a monday afternoon. but here you are, feeling a little light headed but inexplicably brave.
“i mean,” you say. “doesn’t every girl on campus you know want you to fuck their brains out?” “that you have to tell me, i don’t think i can give you an answer,” he says, piling up the books on his desk.
he starts to drum his long fingers on the cover of the statistics textbook for a good minute, eyes focused on the dusty windowsill while he is chewing on the inside of his cheek.
and it takes you a second to really make that sink in: wonwoo is restless. he is hanging on your next words.
“so, are you going to say something or you will make me wait here all afternoon?”
you smile. and he hates how his palpitations go up by a notch.
“neither. just knowing that you rubbed one out to the thought of me is closure enough to me.” he clearly tenses up. “who says i have?”
you close your textbook with a thud. “oh, don’t be embarrassed wonu. we’ve all been there at one point or another.”
he’s at the brink of being disgusted with himself for getting a hard on when you just used his nickname like that, but despite it all his heart still leaps up into his throat when you sit up from his bed and collect your bag.
“you touched yourself thinking of me?”
you look at him with one hand on the door handle and wonwoo swears his vision blurs slightly as you grin at him like that.
“you say it like you’re surprised.”
there is no build up, no easing you into the uncharted waters. he kisses open the seam of your mouth without any hesitation, the heat of your tongue against his. it feels so harsh and erotic, so completely unlike the wonwoo you just got to know.
so polite and so pleasant.
but now his hands are on you. and you haven’t had the time to realize your eyes were closed until his hands come up to palm around your waist, searching for skin while you whine against him.
your brain is foggy with the taste of him. he pulls back just as you starts to sway in his arms.
“you don’t even know...” he traces up your back. “..what you do to me, uhm?” you gulp, lips all wet.
the muskiness of him makes your head spin fast, especially when he leaves soft kisses on the skin behind your ear. his mouth is so hypnotic, every move perfectly placed.
“wonwoo,” you stammer, not knowing what else to say. your voice has gone croaky and his hand is venturing up your sweater now, not looking like it would stop any time soon.
your breath catches in your throat when wonwoo trails his fingertips over your clothed breast, dancing across it before brushing the underside. you expected his touches to be harsh, sharp. but they are slow, feather-light. practiced.
his chest heaving like he’s just run a mile, the skin of his stomach hard and hot under your fingers from where you shoved his t-shirt up. his lips are smooth when you inch up to kiss him, gently by his cupid’s bow just to make him grunt. wonwoo’s hands curl around your wrists gently, pampering you with kisses for a couple of minutes before pulling away.
“fuck me,” you whisper. and then, because he has to double take like he didn’t quite hear you right. “fuck me wonwoo, please.”
“please. please, wonu. i’m begging.”
“y/n…” wonwoo growls, because he is really close to pop a blood vessel when you sound all whiny and shameless like that.
“i don’t care if someone will hear us,” you murmur against his mouth before pressing it there for a short kiss. you proceed to trail wet pecks all over his jaw and neck, so that he has to close his eyes with a soft sigh. 
“fuck,” he whispers, “you’re really begging me to fuck you here when your brother could come back any minute,” wonwoo says, kissing you.
it’s getting difficult for you to respond when his hand ventures down to undo your jeans though, mouth hanging open in pleasure while he nips at your bottom lip before pushing you back down on his bed. 
“you have to be extra quiet, okay?” he huffs. and there is something wonderfully satisfying for wonwoo to see you like this, underneath him and all putty in his hands.
“wonu,” you whine again, accepting the soft kiss he presses on your lips before he turns you over and positions you how he wants: on your knees, ass up, face pushed into a pillow to muffle your moans.
“you’re so impatient,” he chuckles behind you, but it sounds so soft. fond, even. he pecks your ear swiftly while you listen to him sliding down your jeans and undies and prepare himself, your heart thudding in anticipation. you’re so thrilled you barely register the embarrassment and awkwardness of being left to wait like this, propped up and ready for him to fuck you stupid. and you gasp when you finally feel his erection against your weeping slit, hot and everything you want.
he keeps grinding against your slick folds. “wonwoo,” you whimper, because his tip keeps slipping in and that alone is making you gush. you push your hips back, tears blurring your sight with how desperately you want him inside you. “please.”
he chuckles softly, leaning over to kiss your shoulder before finally pushing into you.
x
“so, i assume the lessons are going well since you two see each other three times a week now,” hoshi says, voice muffled by the noodles he’s slurping.
his eyes are set on wonwoo’s face, lost in the gimbap in front of him.
because if wonwoo has to be real honest, the lessons are going really well, yes. but also his dating life.
and how can he say that to hoshi... ‘oh yeah, she’s really smart hosh and also a fucking star at giving head!’
in his defence, wonwoo would probably never get over the fact that he has succeded in pulling someone like you. he suddenly turns pink thinking about your pretty smile and your prettier laugh. the glint in your eyes when gaming together and the concentrated face you make when trying to understand math concepts that even he has difficulties in teaching. you clinging onto his arm, the late night ramen runs at the convenience store and your honeyed sighs and moans when you’re in the private of your own.
so yeah, he doesn’t really know where to start with this.
“wonu-yah?” hoshi hisses, and suddenly wonwoo gulps when his friend is holding his stare in a vice grip.
“we’re fucking hosh,” he admits timidly, and hoshi starts swearing.
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prince-jjae · 3 months ago
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heh, so for kinktober or just a regular fic atp. Can u do toxic relationship w/ yeonjun. Like reader and yeonjun are in a situationship and yeonjun says that him and reader can’t have any strings attached if they’re just gonna have sex. But like reader rlly doesn’t care so they just keep having one night stands with random people at the club. And one day, yeonjun catches her and gets jealous and BOOM raw sex. But then angst bc reader says he doesn’t love her so they’re free to hit on whoever they want. So they argue and reader never sees yeonjun again. BUT LIKE IF U DON’T WANNA MAKE THIS ANGST THEN U CAN MAKE IT A HAPPY ENDING :3 heh, my brain is going brr brr rn. Ok ty! 💕
Escapism.
mdni, nsfw!!
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pairings: choi yeonjun/reader
genre: smut, angst. hurt/no comfort??
warnings: fwb?yeonjun, meandom!yeonjun, mentions of beomgyu, mentions of club bathroom sex (Dont!), name calling (slut, whore, etc), unprotected sex (Dont! pt2), gender neutral reader but they have feminine anatomy, jealousy, anger, kinda dubcon if you think too hard about it, player!reader, if i forgot any lmk!
jjae's comments: this is.... insane. I sat down to write this thinking itd be like.. 1k? around the same length of my other fics? but no... welcome to 3k words of pure smut and sadness. i made yeonjun a lot more pathetic in this fic than i think the ask originally intended, but i hope it still reads well!! enjoy!
“No strings attached.” he had said. No strings attached. If that's what he wanted, then why was Yeonjun acting this way? He hadn't the faintest idea, but the sight of you dragging a puppy-looking guy to the bathroom with your finger hooked into the front of his jeans made his chest cave in.
He thought this was a good idea, months ago. Back when you were only focused on him with your puppy-crush. Maybe it was the power he held over you back then that convinced him to do this. The strength he had over your every move made his head too foggy with desire to see the fatal error of his ways. Back then you seemed like just a nerdy college student, out of place and quiet. Just his type. He was glad the work of approaching you had been done for him, smirking at the board with your name scrawled next to his. ‘Just how cliche would this get?’ He wondered at the time. It was practically fate. He spent weeks breaking through your cold and bitter exterior, dead-set on tasting the sweet softness that he knew you kept well-hidden. It was the thrill of the chase. The promise of something forbidden, off-limits. Sure, he could give any excuse he wanted, but getting into your bed with you was always his goal. You were a sweet poison, he soon found. You were the sweetest of nectars, yet shockingly deadly. He was in bed with you, his plush lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to your heated skin. He drank in the quiet whimper you let out when his teeth scraped at you with the sharp promise of his canines marring your soft skin. 
“No strings attached.” He had whispered to you huskily, and you dumbly nodded along, eager to please so he would keep going. So he would consume you like the fire you knew he was. He said it more for his own sake than yours, he thought. He knew from the first time he had you under him, obscene sounds coming from where your hips collided, mouth spilling rivulets of drool around his fingers which pressed and prodded at your tongue, that he was thoroughly fucked. 
But now, after months of being your.. What was the right word for it? Was this a situationship? Was he your friend-with-benefits? You two had never talked about it. Hell, you hardly did anything more than moan into each other's mouths and skin. Neither of you were next to one another by the time the sunshine graced your apartment windows. He knew better, now. If he was going to continue drinking in your poison by the mouthful, he needed to be careful. Precise, even. 
Yeonjun sighed, watching you go as he swirled the drink in his hand. You didn’t know he was there. You didn’t even see the text he had sent you 2 hours prior on your phone, you were too busy scanning the crowd. He had texted you the second he walked through the doors into the club he knew you frequented. He was perhaps a little desperate to see you, but he would never tell you as much. Hell, it was hard to even admit it to himself. He craved you like he craved air. 
But you didn't care. You didn't even react to the buzzing in your pocket, sharp eyes intent on finding your next victim. This club was your web, and you were a black widow. He hadn’t known it when he stumbled into your trap all those months ago, but you were vicious. You took control of him like a possession, the thrum of your power over him was buzzing under his skin constantly. Your kiss was a brand, ruining him for anyone or anything else. 
The great player, Choi Yeonjun, reduced to a simpering, desperate boy. How far he had fallen in pursuit of you.
He recognized the man you had picked - your victim for the night - as Choi Beomgyu. He was a friend of Yeonjun’s, actually. They bickered a lot, but they got along well enough. He recalls mentioning you to him before.. Had Beomgyu sought you out because of him? The thought made his stomach churn. Jealousy cut through him like a searing hot knife, the jagged edge catching his anger in just the right way. His eyes remained fixed on the bathroom door, sipping away at his drink the entire time you occupied it. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what you were doing in there, but he needed to see it. He needed to know that you were really doing this. 
He had no right to be jealous, he knew that. Rationally, realistically, this was none of his fucking business. He was the one who suggested you two wouldn’t be exclusive. Why should he be upset now that his own words were haunting him. Was it because he never expected to get this attached? Or was it the realisation that you didn’t feel the same? It was obvious that you didn’t care for him the way he cared for you. He could live with that, he thought. He could live with you not loving him back, but seeing you sneak off with someone new right before his very eyes? This was an anger he was unfamiliar with. He was never on the receiving end of this. Perhaps this was karma, finally catching up to him and providing him the pain he usually dished out freely. Perhaps he deserved this.
When you finally emerged from the bathroom, makeup smudged and clothes wrinkled, his heart plummeted to the floor. He glanced behind you, watching Beomgyu walk out with a dazed look in his eyes, shirt halfway undone and hair a mess. You loved pulling on his hair when he gave you head, He thought. The memory of him being the one between your thighs finally snapped the cord in him. 
He slammed his drink down onto the table next to him, ignoring the way the other patrons flinched at the loud crack the glass made against the worn wood. He was already halfway across the floor. You didn’t even notice him until he was on you, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the club with the shadow of his rage hanging over him like a cloud. He barely registered you tugging at his arm, trying to get him to let you go, trying to ask him what was going on. Your questions fell on deaf ears. He was on a mission as he dragged you to his apartment for the first time, only a few minutes walk away from the club.
He was going to prove he was better. No one else could have you the way he could. 
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Yeonjun liked to believe that he was a gentle lover. That he could be mean when it was required or requested of him, but for the most part, he was a giver. Full of plush words and promises that usually held no actual weight. A phrase echoed in his mind at that, something about truth being singular, and lies being words, words, words. In that case, Yeonjun guessed he was a liar of a lover. It tracked, if he really thought about it. Like now, when he had you pressed into the door the second you two were beyond the threshold, kissing you like a man starved. His hands were possessive, gripping onto your flesh wherever he could. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to prove- actually, scratch that. He did know. He wanted to erase every memory of Beomgyu’s touch, He wanted to burn it away with his own until only his touch remained on your skin. 
You weren't sure where this animalistic side of Yeonjun came from, but you hardly had it in you to complain. You should probably push him away, demand answers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. The knowledge of this made yeonjun grin against your neck before sinking his teeth into the soft junction between the column of your throat and your shoulder, pulling a pleasured scream from your lips. He practically growled against the skin, fingers trailing down to push aside the skimpy shorts you wore. 
“You let him finish inside?” He grit out, fingers sliding easily through your soaked core. The sound of Beomgyu’s cum leaking onto Yeonjun’s hardwood floor should have made you embarrassed, but instead of shame burning through you, only lust remained. You shivered, nodding at Yeonjun like a bobblehead, mind swirling in the wake of his rough handling of you. He just laughed, but the chuckle he released was devoid of humour. He was angry. You let him fill you? Did you let anyone else do the same?
“Dirty fucking thing.” He spat at you before hauling you up, legs around his waist. He carried you to the bed, flinging you unceremoniously onto the covers. You were still bouncing on the mattress from the sheer force he used to toss you onto it when he descended on you. He was all tongue, teeth and rage as he practically tore your clothes off of you. He hardly gave you any space to breathe, let alone think. Your mind was a useless puddle of mush as he manhandled you, adjusting your body the way he wanted. By the time you could gather the mental presence it took to move your eyes downward, His breath was already fanning hotly at your still-sore cunt. Your eyes widened comically, but he only laughed at you before diving in and eating you with the crazed frenzy of a man who had never eaten before in his life. He had to clean you, had to rid you of any evidence of his friend. You had to become pure again, only for him to defile you himself, make you his the way you had made him yours. He had to show you, even if he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. Surely, you'd understand, right? You understood him. He was sure of it.
Your hands instantly tangled in his silky locks, tugging harshly enough to pull a hiss from his lips the second his tongue made contact. You squealed, body still sensitive from your previous orgasm with Beomgyu, but Yeonjun didn’t care. He wasn't doing this for pleasure, he was doing this to make a point. To make you his. He ate you with fervor, a mix of your arousal, Beomgyu’s release and Yeonjun’s drool making his face a fucking sopping mess. It dripped onto the sheets below, but he paid it no mind, allowing you to rock your hips desperately on his tongue and nose as he worked you up again. You were sobbing, fat tears streaming down your face and clumping your pretty lashes together. All he could think about while you bumped your swollen clit against his nose was how badly he wanted to ruin you once he was done. Your wails and pleas fell on deaf ears. He had no plans on slowing down, giving you any breaks. You had teased him enough, he thought, parading around with Beomgyu’s cum still stuffed inside you. He was intent on replacing it with his own. When you finally came, sobbing out his name into the silent, cold air of his apartment, you collapsed, boneless onto the sheets. Your hand clasped at your naked chest, sweat cooling your skin as you scrambled to catch your breath. You couldn't remember a single time when Yeonjun behaved like this, did things like this, ate you like this. Sure, he loved having you on his tongue, but he was always so sweet, drawing out every little hum and movement out for your pleasure. This shift in his demeanour left you confused, for sure, but you found it so hot that you couldn't stop to ask any questions. Your eyes flew open again, desperately clawing at his arms when he shifted your body again. He lifted you with ease, flipping you onto your stomach like you weighed nothing. 
“Can't- jjunnie, please!” You cried, voice slightly muffled by the pillow he shoved your face into. He just sneered down at you, dragging his drooling cock through your soaked folds. He had no mercy for you, not anymore. He leaned down, smirking at the way your breath stuttered when the head of his cock caught your entrance. The feeling of his hot breath on your skin paled in comparison to the mean words he spat into your ear. 
“You’ll fucking take what I give you, slut.” 
You couldn’t bring yourself to feel any shame at his words. In fact, you revelled in them, pushing your hips back against him. It caught him by surprise, and you were so wet that he sunk into you with ease with that simple movement alone. A punched out groan fell from his pouty lips, one of his hands gripping your hip in a bruising hold. You were sure his fingertips would leave bruises for you to press on by tomorrow morning. 
“God- You’re so fucking desperate, arent you? Just got your pussy stuffed with cum and you're already begging for more?” He laughed, the sound mean and cruel in your ears as he set a brutal pace. You were so slick that the sounds that reverberated in yeonjuns bedroom was fucking obscene. You felt filthy, dirty, used- and you loved it. You weren’t sure how, but Yeonjun could tell. You knew he could. Maybe it was the way your walls fluttered helplessly around his fat cock, spearing into you with no mercy that gave you away. It didn’t matter, though. You hardly had the mental presence to care about anything beyond the way he stretched you out so so well. “Look at you, fucking pathetic. So eager for dick. Do I not give you enough? Huh? Do I need to stuff you full every hour of the day for you to be satiated?” 
All you could do was claw at his sheets, nodding pathetically along to his words. He scoffed, reaching up to grab your chin and forcing your mouth open. “Speak, whore.” 
You scrambled for words, but the syllables fell through your fingers like grains of sand. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, reminiscent of a fish out of water, before you finally managed out something akin to verbal language.
“Need- please- more- jjunnie-!” Your voice quickly dissolved into a chorus of pornographic ah, ah, ah-’s, and it sent a thrill through Yeonjun’s body. He was doing this to you. In this moment, right here in his bedroom, you were his. He shoved his fingers into your still open mouth, keeping your head thrown back as his hips ploughed into your sopping heat from behind. His thrusts were so intense they were punishing, sure to leave you sore and wobbly on your feet for days. Thinking about you stumbling around, needing his help to walk only made him growl and fuck you harder. He was far too drunk on you, on your moans, on your pussy. He couldn’t help himself.
“Need-? Getting fucked so good you cant speak, huh? Don’t worry, baby.” He grinned, but the smile was sharp and cheshire. It held no warmth for you, not that you could care or open your eyes long enough to even see it. You could feel it in his words, though, in the way he nibbled at your earlobe before shoving you down into the pillows again. “Daddy’s got you.”
He was entirely right, really. You were fucked positively stupid on his dick. You couldn’t deny that. In fact, you wouldn't. “Daddy-” you whined, voice barely audible over the lewd sounds of Yeonjun’s cock sinking into you and his hips snapping against the plush of your ass. “‘s fucking good- fuck!”
Yeonjun let out a breathless laugh before he pulled out of you. You hardly had time to whine at the loss, the aching empty feeling he left you with, before you were being moved again. Now you were on your back, and before you could even get your vision to focus on him, Yeonjun was already balls-deep in you again. With your head thrown back in bliss, throat bared for him, he couldn’t help but sneak down and leave angry, splotchy hickeys along your soft skin. 
“That’s right, baby- fuck… take it. Take it. Gonna fill you up better than he did- fuck!” His hips were beginning to stutter, but his mouth kept running. He was dissolving into horny babble, but he had the presence of mind to sneak his hand down, fingers drawing rough circles on your clit that had you spasming underneath him. 
He had slept with you enough times to know your tells, to know when you were going to finish. The way your head fell back, eyebrows drawn up, pretty lips making that pretty ‘o’ shape- the way you fluttered around him wildly, trying to milk him dry- you were close. He knew it. Just a few more thrusts, a slight change in angle and-
God, you were so beautiful when he had you like this, crying his name again, nails clawing uselessly against his back and leaving angry marks that he loved. 
“That’s it, baby- shit. Take it, slut. Fucking take it-!” He gripped your hips firmly in both hands, using them to move you on him. It made his thrusts hit deeper, and- God, were you squirting? If anything, the revelation only made him rougher with you despite your protests that you couldn’t take it, that you needed him to slow down. He wouldn’t, though. You knew he wouldn't. He only grabbed you harder, cock slamming into your cervix in a way that made you wince before he finally filled you, pressed as deeply into you as he could manage. He pressed into you over and over, as if trying to force his seed even deeper into you. As if he could fuck it right into your little womb. 
After a few more mean thrusts, you began to squirm and whine in his grip. Only then did he snap out of his jealousy-filled rage, looking into your eyes with his own so wide and pretty. There he was, that was closer to the Yeonjun you remembered. You smiled lazily at him, lifting your arms to him. With no prompting, he fell into your embrace. He peppered kisses along any skin he could reach, sighing happily into your skin when your fingers ran through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp in the way you knew he liked. You chuckled, but made no move to push him away. That was all he needed for hope to bloom in his chest again. You understood him, right? You knew what he was trying to do, what he needed. He needed you. He needed you more than air. He looked at you expectantly, hoping that you would say what he did not have the courage to. 
But you didn’t say anything. 
You didn’t say anything when he cleaned you up. You didn’t say anything when he carefully brought you to the bath he drew for you. You didn't say anything when he gently scrubbed your body. You didn’t say anything when he helped you back into your clothes. 
You only opened your mouth to deny him when he suggested you sleep over. He didn’t know his heart could shatter so easily with just a few words. He supposed he had this coming. Yes, he was right, earlier. This was karma for all his previous misdeeds. You were karma, and you were cruel.
“No strings attached, remember?”
263 notes · View notes
tadpolesonalgae · 9 months ago
Text
Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 15
Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sibling!Reader
a/n: I became suddenly ill about three days ago and my brain is still quite mushy so I think this has been proofread but there might be some errors here and there I’ll try to iron out once I’m better!! Sorry for any scruples and I hope you enjoy!! 🧡💛
warnings: angst, general depression, violence (self-attempted)
word count: 16,175
-Part 14- -Part 16-
——————————————————————————————————————————————
Azriel catches her eye from across the room, weary hazel locking with bright amber that swirls in the faelight of the living room.
His tension is more palpable than usual, the conversation from yesterday with the golden-eyed male only further contributing to the death knell gonging quietly at the back of his mind, creaking through his knees, echoing in each footstep—each breath he takes. Time seems to be dripping by faster, even more so than usual. In the cobwebbed chambers of his mind he’s able to recall a time where days were his chosen measurement, where a twenty-four hour period contained beginning, middle, and end. But as he’d grown older, those chunks had grown with him, his perception of time shifting the more of it he lived through. Soon enough weeks were his days, calculating how much could be done over the period, sleep a small break to be indulged in between work. Then it had shifted to months—twelve to fit everything into, nights morphing into short naps.
Now years feel like days once had, time no longer a steady drip of water from the roof of a dark cell ceiling where he’d been kept locked away from the light, but a steady trickle as it carves its way through stone.
Shadows conceal his absence from the laughter-filled room, removing himself from the uncomfortably bright corner to a place of familiarity, shifting into the darker hallways as he sighs, feet positioned instinctively equidistant, weight spread evenly, fearing one lapse in discipline might bring him back to those days where he knew nothing of fighting, nothing of how to defend himself. To those days where he had to learn relentlessly, practice until his body couldn’t move in desperate attempts to cover the ground he’d lost years to.
Mor enters into the darkness, coming from the yellow-orange light that’s spilling into the blue-purple hallway, heels effortlessly silent upon the floorboards as her nocturnal eyes seek him out. Her features are already serious, easily picking up on his mood despite his efforts to conceal it. The depths of it, at least.
“Az?” Mor asks quietly, expression curious but solemn.
“She’s gone,” he murmurs shortly. Mor’s eyes flash with alarm at the revelation, before her brows tuck together. “What do you mean she’s gone? Where?”
“I don’t know,” he admits grimly. “I paid a visit to one of her friends afternoon yesterday, but he refused to answer anything.”
“What do you mean, she’s gone, Az?” Mor hisses, disbelief sharpening her muffled tone. Azriel grinds his jaw, but relents—this is more important. “I mean, she isn’t at the House of Wind. She left a note saying she would be at Bas’, and would be back but she wasn’t. When I went to get her, she wasn’t there either,” he summarises, expression sombre.
“What else?” Mor asks sternly, the brightness about her having faded faster than a flame extinguished. Azriel licks his lips, bracing himself, before explaining: she has magic but it’s been giving her trouble, she’d wanted to try using it without anyone else knowing and he’d let her, Elain’s vision prophesying his death at her hand.
To Mor’s credit, her features don’t drain entirely of colour, and it takes her no more than a few seconds of heavy silence for her to muster up a response. “What magic?” Mor asks first, keeping her tone quiet but clipped, judgement clear enough she doesn’t need to voice it. And Azriel won’t address it, either. “Her hands could glow a little around the fingertips. We didn’t know what it did, though.”
“And the trouble?”
“It dried her skin out, among other things.” Mor’s lips part, eyes closing briefly as she sighs. “The gloves.” Azriel doesn’t need to provide confirmation for her to have connected the dots.
But then her eyes open, slowly sliding to his, an edge of viciousness underlying their amber cut, one he withstands reluctantly. Mor swallows, jaw tense, watching him. “How long have you known about this?” She asks, lethally softly. Not how long has she had magic, how long has he known. And not told them. “About a fortnight.”
Mor’s eyes gleam with hostility, and his features become stony, walls raising up as she watches him silently. Judgement falling heavy on his shoulders. “Why tell me now?” She asks shortly. She isn’t chewing him out, nor is she outwardly rancorous. Not good a good sign. “Bas won’t tell me where she is,” he replies neutrally, Mor’s eyes flaring as she puts it together. “You want me to ask him.” Azriel nods, despite her already knowing.
She glances at him reproachfully, another look he withstands passively, and then she’s turning sharply on her heel, making back toward the light, back toward the laughter. Silent as a shadow, Azriel catches her upper arm, having to exert surprising force to keep her still. “Where are you going?” He asks coldly.
“Where do you think?” She counters sharply.
“They have enough on their plates,” Azriel mutters. As if on queue, Nyx’s laugher giggles through the halls, a stark contrast to the gloom lurking just beyond the light’s end. Mor snatches her arm away. “You have enough on your plate,” she says lowly, eyes glinting as they cut through him, “we could have made room. You should have told us.” But Azriel stands his ground, not giving an inch. “It was the right call.”
“You have no idea where she is,” Mor counters. “No idea where she is, or what state she might be in. What makes you think that was the right call?”
“You’re questioning my judgement?”
“Yes, I’m fucking questioning your judgement,” she hisses back lowly.
“She told me she didn’t want any of you to know,” he counters coldly, “she’s reclusive anyway, suddenly outing her wouldn’t have done anything helpful.”
The wording seems to strike something in Mor, ire banking, eyes shuttering briefly, before she’s gritting her jaw again. “You should have told us.”
“She barely managed to tell me,” Azriel states, “Elain didn’t even know until the vision that her sister had magic.”
“You know you should have told us.”
“And betrayed her trust when she chose to tell me?” Azriel asks cooly. “You didn’t see how scared she was.”
“Maybe she wasn’t scared of us finding out but of speaking with you.”
Azriel blinks, the only sign of his falter he’ll allow, caught off guard by the accusation. She’s never shown any fear of him before… “She has no reason to be scared of me.” He says finally.
A look of frustration flits through Mor’s amber eyes. “She’s young. This is probably the first time she’s experiencing strong feelings toward someone else,” she says lowly, “surely you can remember what that’s like.” Azriel bristles at the pointed look, the insulting comparison between his past love for Mor and the affection being unwelcomely pushed his way. “She’s infatuated. It happens,” he replies tersely, not taking kindly to the manipulation. “And she went through the war too—she isn’t that unaware. You’re doing her a disservice.”
“The disservice here is you not affording her the care she needs—to the point she’s chosen to run away,” Mor practically spits.
Terse silence stretches between them, sour and resentful.
“We aren’t going to come to an agreement,” Azriel says at last, tone clipped, but both of them know it’s better to move on for now. They can fight it out later, once things are resolved and taken care of. “You speak to Bas first, then we can find out who she’s gone to. She could be anywhere in the Night Court, knowing him.”
“We tell Rhys and Feyre first,” Mor demands lowly. But Azriel shakes his head, “if you want to be the one to tell Feyre her sister is missing and we don’t know where she is, be my guest.”
Silence stretches further, growing tauter by the second, until Mor sighs sharply. “Fine,” she grits out. “Bas first.”
Azriel nods, making to turn around, heading for the door.
“But you are telling Feyre,” Mor hisses lowly. “Whether we find out or not. Tonight.”
Azriel pauses, jaw tightening. But gives a sharp nod.
————
Once again he slinks back to the male’s house, the bright sun lost to winter’s oncoming grip, dark clouds shielding the stars from view.
Despite the silence between them, he can feel Mor’s judgement pressing into him, but he has no time to argue or persuade. After the…discussion, with the male the other day, he’d needed time to plan, regroup his thoughts. Time. Seemingly so sparse, as of late. He could afford little more than twenty-four hours of inaction before a decision would have to be made—he hadn’t come this far by sitting around aimlessly when faced with a hard choice. It seemed the only reasonably way forward would be to acquiesce to the male’s demand, as much as Azriel despised so. It was the smarter option.
The other would have been to lay hands on him, and no matter how urgent the matter was, the male was still a civilian, and untrained for war, at that. Violence was entirely out of the question.
He knocks thrice on the door, sharp and punctuated hits to alert the male of company, before stepping back to allow space for Mor.
Gleaming golden eyes pierce out into the darkness, and Azriel knows he doesn’t miss the hint of smugness in their gilded depths as he marks the presence of another, as he’d requested. To verify his claim that there were indeed urgent matters afoot. Azriel refuses to show even a hint of irritation, keeping his face cold and passive—Bas won’t get the satisfaction of seeing him riled. He’d have to work much harder for that.
“You’re back late,” Bas drawls from the warm glow of his house, once again leaning cockily against the broad wooden frame, ankles crossed, one foot keeping the door held to—away from prying eyes. “And you’ve brought company,” he muses, glancing to Mor at his side. The female steps forward, the yellowy-orange light from inside making her glow as she offers a tight smile. “Bas, correct?” Golden eyes sweep over her analytically, before he nods, shifting slightly. “Mor,” he acknowledges, “she mentioned you, too.” No signs of surprise mar her open expression, kept sealed beneath that deceptive mask she can wear to charm at any time.
“That’s why we came to see you, actually,” Mor begins calmly, straightforward. “I’m of the understanding you know her whereabouts, but are unwilling to disclose them for various reasons.”
“That’s right,” he replies slowly, expression shifting to something more wary. His provocative nature shying away from perceived earnestness. “She doesn’t want any visitors.”
Mor nods her head gently, understanding shimmering faintly in amber eyes, threads of her hair catching the golden glow of inner light, glinting with the motion. “I can understand that, but this is very important,” she says sincerely, worry shining in her face Azriel know she doesn’t have to fake. Still the male remains cautious in the doorway. “Azriel wasn’t lying when he told you this conflicts with Court matters,” Mor begins slowly, and the shadowsinger tamps down on the urge to glance at her warily. Though he knows she won’t reveal anything, there’s no need to offer scraps. “I’m afraid there’s little I can honestly tell you due to their private nature, but nonetheless I would like to speak with you about her. She is a part of our family, and we are deeply concerned about her. I’m sure you can understand our worry.”
Quiet pauses long enough to take a deep breath, before resuming to its consistent noise.
Eventually, Bas nods his head, standing straighter. A grain of tension is released from his shoulders as the male opens his door, yielding to a conversation. He makes to step forward, but sharp golden eyes flick to him, piercing and accusing in their nature. “I’ll speak with Mor, and Mor alone,” he states clearly, an edge of provocation creeping back into his features, though the Shadowsinger doubts its sincerity.
But Mor nods her head, “that’s fine,” she answers, brushing past his side, pulling the cold night air with her, a whisper of icy breath grazing his side as she moves forward, leaving him out in the dark. “Don’t move from here until we’re done,” Mor instructs from over her shoulder once Bas has disappeared from the entrance hall. Azriel nods, understanding the implication.
Listen in from outside.
————
The room she follows Bas into is cozy, well-kept. Clearly lived in.
The pillows of the sofas are slightly worn, slightly faded in colour, waned down to more earthy tones that compliment the pale terracotta of the walls. Fire crackles from the hearth, dried rosemary hung from the ceiling beams, as well as other dried herbs and plants. On the wall are some paintings, mostly stills, but they’re watery around their edges, faded colour bleeding over fine, distinct ink lines.
Bas takes a seat that seems to fit him comfortably, likely one he usually chooses, while Mor opts for one nearby, a quilt thrown over its back, squares of purple, blue, turquoise, and magenta knitted together, and she can make out small patches in the yarn where its been run thin and had to be darned with slightly mismatched thread.
“So,” Bas starts, quieter than she had expected, sitting forward in her chair, attentive. “You’re worried about her. Why?” It’s hard to conceal her frown at such a strange question, but she doesn’t really try to. She doubts she’ll get anywhere through masking her reactions. “She’s part of our family,” Mor replies, “why wouldn’t we be worried about her.” Bas settles deeper into his chair, hands braced on arms, head tilted back into the pillow as he watches her intently. It’s not an expression she’s unfamiliar with, but not one she had expected to encounter here—something wary and deeply protective.
“She doesn’t speak much about any of you,” he hedges slowly, keeping his posture relaxed. “But it’s enough. You aren’t as close knitted as family.” Mor opens her mouth to speak, but he continues. “Even if you try to be,” he says, nodding, “she isn’t easy to get to.” Mor closes her mouth, lips pursing in a tight line. He sighs, shifting in his seat, pushing a thick loc of hair from his face, hooking it over a thoroughly pierced ear. “I believe that you’re concerned about her, and that you truly want to help,” he says heavily, attitude shifted from how he’d been outside, and Mor wonders what Bas might have been told about the Shadowsinger to warrant such ice.
“We do,” she urges sincerely, and Bas nods again, hearing her.
“What I…worry about,” he starts hesitantly, forming the words carefully, considering each one. “I worry you don’t understand her enough to make an informed call,” he settles on, and Mor bristles a little. How long has Bas known her for? Does he know her more than Mor does? “What leads you to that way of thinking?” She asks, keeping the stiffness from her tone.
“I know you don’t see her much,” he replies simply, and again Mor’s lips purse. “She doesn’t enjoy…full, settings. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t care, though.” He sighs, eyes briefly closing, before reopening with a fresh intensity, sitting upright in his chair, forearms braced on his thighs. “Do you know how we met? Me and her?”
Mor’s brow dips, but she answers anyway, curious where he’s going with this. “Through Nesta, right?” Bas nods, something passing through his eyes at the right answer. “Right,” he confirms, “making time to visit those stuffy inns, filled with groping hands—she hates places like that.” Bas sighs again, hand rubbing one side of his face. “I don’t even know if it helped at all, but I know she felt it was all she could do. Even if it was just company, and nothing material. Even if it might not’ve had an overall impact, that was her way of trying to help.”
Mor remains quiet, not seeing what he’s trying to say.
Bas shakes his head, as if telling her to forget about it, again rubbing a hand down his face. “Look, I don’t even know if I can speak on her behalf, and I like to think we’re fairly close with one another,” he admits, sighing heavily. “I don’t want to mislead you.”
“So you’ll let me where she’s gone?” Mor asks, concern heavy in her voice, making no effort to conceal her worry. She watches as the pads of his fingers rub over his eyes wearily, as she wonders if this is straining on him more than he’s letting on. “Try to understand her, when she talks,” he requests quietly, eyes still shut, fingers rubbing faintly. “She still confuses me sometimes, and she never shows if it bothers her, but I can’t imagine someone being okay with being misunderstood.”
“Bas,” Mor urges gently, sensing he’s on the verge of telling her whereabouts. “Please tell us where she’s gone. We don’t want her to feel alone.”
Bas doesn’t look up, face still covered by his hands, but Mor can make out the tightness of his brows, torn between his decisions. So close to cracking open.
“I don’t know,” he whispers.
Mor blinks, eyes locking with gold as he looks at her through his fingers, fatigue obvious beneath his gaze, the lines more pronounced as the flame casts the shadows of his digits across his features, deepening the half circles that have appeared.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Mor asks, biting down on shock, clearing it entirely from her voice. “She didn’t tell me,” he answers quietly.
Silence stretches, and even in the haze and confusion that’s been stirred up she has enough clarity to feel the piercing weight of a glare through a window, heavy and accusing. Tension crackles in her spine, flipping her golden hair over a shoulder, a subtle message to piss off to the shadows that are watching from outside.
She sighs heavily, meeting the golden eyes of the male opposite her, now sat back in his chair as he was before, but his back is slumped, as if containing all that worry had been stretching him taut. Relieved to no longer be the sole barer of her secrets. “Do you—…” Mor eases in a sharp breath, settling the worry and gradually increasing panic that’s tightening around her throat. She swallows, pulling herself together. Recomposing herself. “Do you have any idea where she might have gone?” She asks calmly. “Anything could help.”
But Bas shakes his head, guilt clear in his golden eyes. “She didn’t give me any hints. But she had a bag with her, so I’m guessing she had somewhere in mind and didn’t just aimlessly wander off.”
Mor nods, getting to her feet, golden eyes tracking her movements. “Thank you for telling me,” she says sincerely, before turning for the door.
“I know that leaving in the middle of the night without telling anyone where you’re going seems rash—maybe even a bit stupid,” Bas says after her, voice a little clearer to catch her attention. “But she’s smart. I’d wager it was probably something she’d had in the back of her mind for a while.”
Mor swallows thickly, the possibility not sitting well with her, but nods nonetheless.
“I’ll let you know when we find her.”
————
Azriel waits sullenly in the front garden for Mor to exit the male’s house, darkening the doorstep he’d been instructed to remain in until she was done.
He watches the door open and close, Mor stepping out into the night air, latch clicking softly as it locks behind her, and the two make their way silently at first down the garden path, back into the street before they begin communicating. “That certainly didn’t take long,” he muses lowly, glancing at her sidelong. “I take it you heard everything?” She asks quietly, tension clear in the cold bite of her usually honeyed voice. Azriel gives a brisk nod, and Mor sighs. “What now?”
“There are only so many places she could have gone to,” Azriel replies smoothly, mind already running through the possibilities. Honestly, Bas not knowing almost helps more—it has to be someone she knows. There are only two places she could have possibly run off to, though neither of them seem particularly believable. That being thought, he knows where he’ll check first.
“You have an idea?” Mor asks tightly, a bit of a bite to her question. Azriel nods grimly, “Elain mentioned a fox in her vision,” he explains, “apparently they grow close—enough to make a bargain of some sort, anyway.”
“Elain saw the bargain in her vision?” Mor questions. Azriel nods. “We don’t know if that’s symbolism or not,” she mutters, “we have no idea how accurate they are, either. Nor how soon they’ll come to pass.” Her tone softens toward the end a little, but Azriel isn’t willing to speak about that part of the prophecy yet. That he will be dying. Probably soon, going off how vivid Elain’s descriptions were—as if it were urgent. Impending.
“And you’re sure Elain doesn’t know where she’s gone?” Mor asks, keeping her gaze ahead, brows pulled together in concentration, a glint in her warrior’s eyes. “She might do,” Azriel sighs, “they are close, after all. And the fox…”
“Could be Lucien,” Mor finishes heavily. “You think she’s run to the mortal lands. Back to her home.” Azriel remains silent, keeping pace as they return silently to the River House.
Piercing amber eyes dig into the side of his skull, the intensity of her attention almost startling if he hadn’t had centuries to grow accustomed to it. He senses the question, just as she could sense he was holding something back.
Azriel doesn’t look at her as he speaks, “there’s only one other person the fox might represent.”
Even without visuals, he can hear how her pace nearly falters, then comes to a stop. He pauses with her, at last turning to face the golden haired female. Her skin is paler, even taking the silver of the moon into account. “You think she might have gone to Eris?” She asks, voice thick, but quiet. No more than a breath of wind. “I think it’s one of the two. There’s no one else it could be.”
“She’s only met him once,” Mor snaps lowly, nails digging into her palms. Azriel makes a show of shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “It’s one or the other,” he says calmly, “if she isn’t in the Mortal lands…”
Mor stares at him, amber eyes drained a little. “You really think there’s a chance he could have…taken her?” She practically spits, unable to keep the hiss out of her voice. Because when it comes to that long ago trauma, her only responses to fall back on are fear, or anger. He doubt she’ll allow the vulnerability of fear right now. Not with the tension between them. “I think it’s better to question Elain first to see if she knows anything. If she doesn’t, I’ll make my way down Prythian.”
Mor blinks, realising the situation. She had demanded Azriel be the one to tell Feyre, regardless of whether they find anything or not. But with the new possibility of her having somehow found herself in the Autumn Court…Mor’s throat rolls heavily. She can’t bring herself to go there. Even now, the thought alone…she pushes against the urge to settle her palm over her abdomen. “We question Elain first,” she manages quietly, and Azriel can see how she’s gathering herself back together.
Instinct is the closest it comes to, that feeling she’s somehow run off to the Autumn Court, like a tug toward the unfamiliar land. Surely Elain would have mentioned something to him about a plan for her sister to leave when she’d been telling him about the vision. It’s the option that makes the most sense, for her to have spoken with Elain, and used a tunnel to reach the border quickly. With all the books she’s read in the library…the kind of things they contain, he doesn’t doubt she’d be more than capable of figuring a way to sneak out of the Night Court. To sneak out of Prythian if she set her mind to it.
Mor nods, and Azriel redirects his attention to the street, continuing the pace. “Question Elain,” she murmurs, “then head to Autumn first. If she isn’t there, go to the Lower Lands. Be as quick as possible.” He nods, admittedly relieved he won’t have to yet face Rhys for the mess he’s inadvertently caused.
————
“Eris, I’m tired,” you sigh, hands aching, sitting dejectedly on a tree stump.
As much as you’d protested, he’d dragged you back out into the forest, where everything feels encased in a glass bubble. It’s hard to explain when you think about it, but it’s like being in another world, how easily the trees sweep away and redirect noise. Hairs prickle at the back of your neck as you remember the giant, boar-like creature that had rampaged upon you mere days ago. The sight and smell of steaming blood as skin slid from flesh, melted apart.
“You haven’t even done anything,” he mutters, watching. “Get back up.”
You sigh heavily, reluctantly getting to your feet, then blinking heavily, suddenly crouching down as you press your palms to your eyes, trying to steady yourself from the abrupt dizziness that had ballooned into your head. Lips part as you try to concentrate on your breathing, wishing away the sudden feeling of unevenness beneath your feet. Eventually it passes, a few extra moments spent crouched for good measure, before you slowly stand back up, hand pressing to the side of your head. Cutting whiskey and amber eyes are piercing into you from across the clearing. You scowl back.
“What was that?” He asks, disapprovingly, your scowl deepening at the tone.
“I told you: I’m tired,” you snap, but it lacks the bite you’d wished for, fatigue building into a slow but heavy pulse inside your head, just above and behind your brows. A yawn rises from your chest, and you cover your mouth as it stretches you open, eyes squeezing shut, watering a little before you slump back into your usual posture, no longer pulled taut by your muscles.
His sharp eyes narrow accusingly, and you bristle at the look, trying to summon up the energy to glare at him. “Did you eat breakfast this morning?” He asks sharply, and you grimace, knowing he won’t approve of the answer. But you really don’t have the energy to lie, either. “No, I didn’t,” you sigh, “I was feeling sick.” Something flickers behind his eyes, but it’s gone too quickly for you to even attempt to recognise. “You were probably feeling sick from hunger,” he mutters, as if it’s obvious, arms folding over his chest, leaning back against a tree. “Using magic can take up a lot of energy, even if it doesn’t feel like it. You should have—”
“I know the difference,” you hiss, lip twitching up in the beginnings of a snarl, before once again flattening out, and you sit back on the stump, uncaring if it pisses him off. You hope it does.
“Do you?” He muses, a bladed edge to his tone that has your stomach tightening, glancing at him warily from across the clearing. You tense as he pushes off from the tree, then vanishes, and you jump as he appears on your other side, peering down at you, unimpressed. “You know how to tell when your magic is draining you? Because those are some pretty big steps to have made seemingly overnight.” Your lips purse, averting your gaze, sullenly looking away. “That’s what I thought.”
“I know the difference between hungry sickness and—” you falter, but manage to finish the sentence, “…and being unwell.”
Eris pauses, and you want to meet his gaze and glare at him, but your head just feels too heavy on your shoulders, and the general fatigue hasn’t been aided by the light sheen of sweat that’s been layering your body each morning, before you’ve wobbly stumbled to the washroom, clutching your stomach. You’ve yet to actually regurgitate anything though—your one blessing. It’s like those initial months after the Cauldron all over again.
“Look at me,” he instructs, and you glare at the ground, irritation growing in your chest. It wouldn’t hurt him to be a little more gentle with his attitude. His demeanour, in general. A curse sits, unspoken, at the tip of your tongue when he grips your jaw, angling your chin upward so he can examine you. Again your lips twitch in a slight snarl, but the energy fails quickly. Amber eyes sweep over your features, and you avert your gaze when his own settle intensely on yours. He releases you after a too-long moment, allowing you your space again, and you glare at him. “What was that for?”
“You look worse than usual,” he answers flatly.
You glare at him resentfully, unable to muster up the laugh you usually would whenever he makes a comment like that. Instead you just feel irritated. His brows narrow further, “how much have you been sleeping recently?” He pushes. You shrug, briefly glancing away.
“A normal amount. I’m fine, just let me sit down, it’s not that big of an issue if I’m not standing, right?”
“Are you coming up for your cycle?”
The bones in your hands creak, groaning with strain and you hiss as pain flares weakly beneath your gloves at your fingertips. You tuck your hands under your arms, trying to soothe their sting as you glare at him. “Do not ask me that,” you snap, legs crossing on the tree stump. You half expect his lips to quirk at the easily given reaction, but his brow dips a little. “You don’t have to give me a direct answer,” he says at last, a touch gentler than before, but still stern. “Just answer if it could be related.”
You hesitate at the tone, jaw still tight with tension, but you swallow thickly. “No,” you manage quietly, “not for another few months, at least.”
“Then as much as you disagree, it would be a good idea to eat first, then see if you improve,” he replies, back to his usual drawl, laced with distaste. Enough to almost have your lips curving a little at their edges. “So we’ll be going back to have lunch right this second,” you muse, glancing up at him, “and you aren’t going to set some stupid challenge for me to fulfil beforehand. Right? Because that would be very impractical.”
His amber eyes glint with something you’ve decided is the closest he’ll get to open amusement, brow raising slightly. “Why waste a good motive?” He counters, “looks like you’re catching on.” You force a groan, if only in attempts to lighten the mood from whatever dark grave it had settled into, and you reluctantly get to your feet, taking it slow incase your head starts swimming again. “What is it this time?” Eris nods to the tree that looks to have been recently cut down, the counterpart to the trunk you’re sat upon. “I want you to try touching the bark,” he instructs, and you look at him quizzically. Seems easy enough.
You watch him questioningly as you stand and make your way over to the tree, putting your hands down.
“Done?” You say slowly, confusion blatant in the furrow of your brows as you stare at him.
Eris stares at you blankly, before raising his palm to cover the lower portion of his features, concealing his mouth. “Using your magic,” he adds disbelievingly, mouth still covered.
You blink, then flush with embarrassment, hand covering your own mouth as laughter bubbles up from your chest. “Oh,” you manage, shoulders shaking lightly, not helped by the matching amusement reflecting in his amber eyes—amusement he’s struggling to conceal. “I thought—” you break off, a smile stretching wide behind your palm, chest stuttering with mirth. “I thought you meant I just had to touch it.” He shakes his head, seemingly beyond speech. “You want to see how the bark reacts when I touch it with my magic,” you clarify, nodding your head, still trying to tamp down the laughter that’s heating your eyes faintly. He confirms with a slight nod of his head, and you take a deep breath, trying to sober up. “I see,” you nod again, at last recovered enough to lower your hands to remove your gloves, a smile still faintly curving your lips. “I’ll give it a go.”
“Why would I ask you to touch a tree?” Eris asks from somewhere at your back, tone almost settled back to his usual drawl, dripping of disapproval. “I’m tired,” you reply, not nearly as practiced as he is at keeping your tone neutral as you glance at him over your shoulder, “you should have clarified better.” Eris shakes his head, before nodding to the tree trunk.
You take in a breath, returning to look at the bark—what would happen if you touched it?
Closing your eyes briefly, you steady out your breaths, inhaling slow and deep, feeling your shoulders lose their tension before reopening your eyes. Focusing on the bark again now that you’re settled. “What should I do?” You ask, not taking your gaze from the tree or your hands.
“Try thinking about different things, exploring how they make you feel,” he replies steadily. How helpful, you think, but leave the comment unvoiced—you’re trying to concentrate. You think about how the light had appeared before, when he’d gotten you to briefly sustain it. It had hurt at first, you’d had the chance to realise, but after the initial rush of pain, the creak of bones and your groaning carpals, it had faded more into a slight tingle, like your fingers had fallen asleep, wrapped in a vague warmth.
You swallow thickly, thinking about the flat-topped ring in your pocket, the absence of weight in your ears, how they correlate. You don’t regret the decision to sell them off, to your slight surprise. More indifferent to the change, if not slightly excited at your choice. Doing something for yourself, on your own, that nobody knew about. It’s nice, having secrets.
“Now press them to the bark,” Eris instructs, and you look down in surprise to spot the faint greenish-gold glow weaving between your fingers—almost like fish slowly weaving throughout water as they struggle upstream, but less frenetic. Slowly, keeping your breathing steady, you press your palms against the bark, palms shaking slightly as the light flickers, almost flinching slightly as it hesitantly makes contact with the new surface.
You jerk away when something lances up your wrist, stinging pain spearing beneath your skin as the tang of copper bursts in the air. The magic extinguishes in an instant, snuffed out with a single recoiling thought, and your breathing loses its pattern as you glance down at your right palm. What looks like a popped blister sits on the heel of your hand, except the liquid that gleams had a red tint to it, mixed with blood. You sigh heavily, left hand holding your right wrist lightly, thumb pressing the flesh just below the blister, watching as blood rises to the surface. The skin around it is flakier than before, a little discoloured, and you spot a mole at the knuckle of your little finger, poking meekly out from the skin, as if worried over being spotted and pulled away.
Eris walks up to your side, glancing down at the bark, the absence of any sort of change. It looks exactly the same. “I guess nothing happened,” you hedge, glancing warily down at the tree, searching for some kind of change.
Eris is quiet, and you at last turn to peer up at him, wondering what he’s thinking. His silence is waring. Amber eyes latch with your own, narrowed and slightly impatient, before the emotion is swiftly wrapped away. “I had hoped to make more progress,” he muses lowly, and you regard him with caution at the hushed tone. His eyes gleam with something you can’t figure out, wariness intensifying as he pulls something from his pocket—a small silk pouch.
You tilt your head, brows furrowed, “what is that?”
His lips sharpen at the edges, and tension coils beneath your skin—that type of expression is never good. “Open it,” he instructs simply, and you cautiously take it from his fingers, eyeing him again before carefully pulling the strings open, tipping the contents out into your palm. You blink as you take in the smooth band of metal, silver and gleaming against the flaws of your skin. “A…ring?” You ask, peering up at him questioningly. He nods, and you suppress your jolt when his fingers brush over your knuckles, plucking the band up and watching you intently as he smoothly slides it down to the base of the pointer finger on your left hand.
His demeanour has noticeably shifted, and your brows narrow further, suspicion roiling in your gut.
“It’ll help with keeping your magic calmer,” he explains lowly, secretively, and you manage a nod, confusion running rampant in your blood stream. “How so?” You ask, glancing down at the band, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist to keep you from moving. “You have a habit of straining yourself to keep the full force of your power from coming out,” he answers, thumb brushing your knuckle, and this time you glare up at him. His mouth only sharpens, amber eyes glinting with something that has the hairs raising at the nape of your neck. “I’m sure you’re familiar with how the Illyrians use siphons—so their raw type of magic doesn’t destroy everything around them?” You nod, tension lessening, again glancing down to the band. “Think of it like that—now you don’t have to waste concentration on keeping it all in check.”
He releases your hand, and you pull it closer to look at the silver, angling your head a little, understanding this must have been what that exchange had been about, when he’d gone down that dim, dark alleyway into the hidden chamber. “So it’s…a magic ring?” You ask, brows scrunched together as you look up at him. He raises a brow, “how astute of you.” You glare, lips curving faintly at the familiar intonation.
You swallow, stepping back a little, nodding your head. “I guess…” you breathe deeply, “as good a time as any.” You pull the flat-topped ring from your own pocket, and extend it toward him. “I saw this the other day in the market,” you say honestly, watching as his expression shifts, brow raising as he opens his palm. “It reminded me of you a little, and I probably won’t see you over the solstice anyway, so might as well give it to you now.”
Eris takes the ring, examining it, the small carving of the fox set in sterling silver. “A rather unique gift,” he muses, making the edges of your mouth curve.
“If you hate it, you don’t have to wear it,” you say, smiling lightly, “I just wanted to get it.” Though to your surprise, he doesn’t seem to despise it, sliding it over the thumb of his right hand—it seems to actually fit.
That viper’s smile returns to his sharpened mouth, eyes glinting again. “I don’t think your family would approve of a gift like this,” he drawls, more clearly than before, causing you to cock your head in question.
Lips fashion themselves into a razor-sharp grin, the expression more vulpine than fae.
“Isn’t that right, Shadowsinger?”
————
Eris raises his gaze to the forest, how the trees had whispered to him, calling out about the figure stalking their movements. Really, the shadowsinger should know not to hunt outside his own territory. The hulking, shadowy figure steps silently out into the clearing, with a quiet that’s been well-earned by the Spymaster of the Night Court.
Powerful wings are pulled to his body in traditional Illyrian fashion, save for the darkness wreathing the gleaming talons at their peaks, cold hazel eyes clashing with Eris’ own. Marking what the Spymaster has come for. It’s proximity to the male he hates viciously, bloodily, gruesomely.
“Shouldn’t you know not to sneak around in the shadows by now?” Eris drawls, hands settling around its shoulders, feeling stone-tight tension beneath his palms. Its magic fading, unable to winnow two people away, so left trapped in the clearing as the male prowls closer.
“Eris,” the Spymaster greets coldly, darkness unspooling upon the ground he treads, coming to a stop at the edge of the clearing. Not close enough for hand-to-hand combat, but too nearby for a proper display of magic. At least he’s smart enough to recognise he’s at a disadvantage in a foreign court—uninvited, at that. “Shouldn’t you know the consequences of displacing a member of Rhys’ court?” The Spymaster questions, lethally quiet.
Tremors flutter beneath Eris’ hands, still gripping her shoulders to keep her in place, and he glances down, only to find her already watching him. If it weren’t for the tremors, she would be as still as death. Her brows lifted and slightly curved, mouth pointed down at the edges. Betrayal stark in her normally bright eyes.
“You’re clearly uninformed,” Eris muses, pulling away from her scared eyes to meet cutting hazel. “This is a perfectly amicable meeting, isn’t it, cygnet?”
The Spymaster’s canines flash at the pet-name, the blatant taunt, the insinuation he’s made that she would choose himself over the Spymaster. That well-concealed wrath suffers a blow when she raises her hands to grip his wrists, nothing demanding about the touch—it’s a weak hold. As if asking for attention.
“Amicable or not,” the Spymaster says, expression stony, “you’ll return her. Unless you want Rhys to know about this abduction?” Eris shrugs, amusement sharpening his mouth as he selects his words carefully, “I’m not her keeper. She will return when she likes.” By the looks of it, the arrow lands, pupils constricting as the Spymaster takes a menacing step closer.
————
Your ears have hollowed out, stomach swallowing your heart. A quiet kind of panic tightening through your chest, pulse spiking. Dread sluicing through the rope holding you taut.
You’re staring up at him, holding on with as much strength as you can manage as a strange emotion rushes through your blood, softening your muscles until you’re struggling to stand, pushing every pleading word you’ve ever read into your eyes, silently begging for him to do something. To keep you from facing him on your own.
You know how easy it is for him to shatter you.
Amber eyes lower to yours, walls risen against Azriel’s presence, and your fingers stutter over the cuffs of his tunic, before the last of your strength drains. They’re glinting again with that challenge, and in the very back of your mind you can understand he’s using this as just another training exercise, but it’s hard to focus on through the ringing in your ears, that strange quiet that’s so loud it drowns out every other thought, like a thousand whispers hissing instructions too swiftly, too viciously for you to make them out, coming together in a swirling spiral that’s pulling you under.
Eris’ mouth is moving, eyes peering at something behind you, but you’re fine not hearing. Would prefer to fade from the world, to slip away quietly, unnoticed and un-missed. But then amber again returns to you, and with it sound comes crashing in too. “Pack up,” Eris orders, and you blink, his hands tightening on your shoulders as he feels the slight sway of your body.
“She’ll take a while,” Eris drawls, glancing back at the Shadowsinger—your stomach lurches—who remains a heavy presence at your back. “You may be unwelcome, but let’s not waste this opportunity. Using your General’s absence as an excuse not to meet has lost its worth. You will suffice.”
————
You feel half-awake as you pack your things, watching from some far away place as you fold clothes meticulously, with much more care than you usually would, taking your time gathering the few items you brought.
Clothes, an empty blue box, the thickly bound volume. A thin wooden box about the length of your arm, a note attached atop.
Use it wisely.
You pack the box in your bag, recognising the elegant script.
————
Azriel had followed silently, concealed within Eris’s shadow as he’d strode through the stretching hallways, leading the way to his own chambers, where they will be able to speak freely and most importantly, privately. Tension had simmered beneath his war-roughened skin the entire time, disliking even having to blend his shadows with the heirling’s, but it’s an intimacy he’s forced to yield.
The room Eris takes him to is big, to say the least, and open, with a large bed against a wall, a wooden chest at its foot, his desk adjacent so natural light fills the cavernous room—one that’s above ground. It’s here he emerges from shadow, filling space just beside the large wooden chest, an unlit fire quite a way to his left. Eris takes his time walking around the desk, sitting down comfortably, having the nerve to look relaxed—prick.
“So,” Eris begins, and Azriel bites against the urge to grind his teeth at the smug tone. “She ran away from you. Took her long enough.”
“How long have you been planning this?” Azriel asks coldly, completing a triple check of the room, making sure there’s no one else around. “You act like it was my idea,” the autumn heir drawls, successfully snaring his attention, something foul rising at the back of his throat at the implication. Likely the confirmation he needs that she had indeed left of her own volition. A muscle ticks in his jaw.
“You want me to believe she came all this way on a hope that you’d provide temporary asylum?” Azriel asks, rooting deeper. “She has a smart head on her shoulders,” Eris drawls, amusement glinting in sharp, amber eyes, “she knows how to bargain.”
His blood ices over, skin turning cold at the wording, demeanour plunging as his shadows deepen. “You made a bargain with her?” Azriel growls, pulse spiking. If a bargain has already been made… But Eris waves his hand, enough of a light dismissal for Azriel to figure she hasn’t mentioned Elain’s vision to him. One small ray of light amongst the storming thunder clouds she’s already brought upon herself.
“Do you find it so unbelievable that she might be capable of making arrangements on her own? Why do you assume I had any hand in it?” Eris drawls, making that glittering rage sharpen into razor-tipped icicles, poised to carve and slice. “You’re a conniving bastard,” Azriel says lowly, violence glinting in his hazel eyes, “she wouldn’t have come to you without some prompting.”
“You think I tricked her?” Eris muses, a trace of humour in his tone, Azriel’s brows narrowing with detestation. “What would I get out of that, unless she was complicit? I have no way of forcing her magic out of her, she has to want that on her own—as much as that might irritate Rhys.”
Loathing simmers in Azriel’s chest, but he remains quiet, allowing Eris to talk so he can gather as much information as he can from both sides. So he can compare her side with his later.
“I’m sure after Nesta Archeron, Rhys would be eager to find out what other weapons he might have at his disposal.”
“She isn’t a weapon,” Azriel snarls lowly, fury held back by straining iron manacles.
“But she could become one,” Eris counters, tone shifting to something more serious, and Azriel stiffens. “The timing’s a bit strange, don’t you think? Her magic only now coming through? After two years?”
“That’s not for you to speculate on.”
“Even without an alliance, it is a matter of concern,” Eris growls, brows narrowing as ire blazes in his eyes, glowing like freshly forged steel. “Why doesn’t she know anything?”
Azriel growls in warning, violence itching at his fingers, fists aching to slam down. Sparks crackle in the air, his own intentions seemingly reflected in the male before him. “You don’t have the luxury to ignore this pathway,” Eris growls lowly, “choosing to turn a blind eye would be damning.”
“She has her own problems to deal with,” Azriel snarls lowly, “you do not get to make that call.”
“I will make the call if Rhys doesn’t,” Eris snarls back, canines flashing viciously, “she could use some toughening up.”
“You don’t know enough to make an informed choice,” Azriel mutters coldly.
“Then Rhys had better hurry up. It’s not as though he’s unaccustomed to having to make decisions like this. What’s taking him so long?”
Azriel keeps still, features neutral, refusing to let even a hint of emotion appear in his blank expression.
Eris’ eyes narrow, sensing he’s being denied information. Vulpine senses picking up on a weak spot. Unnervingly keen. Then he blinks, leaning back in his chair, torso losing tension. “You haven’t told him.” Despite the utter neutrality, Azriel knows he’s figured it out. The heirling nods, a cynical curve to his sharpened mouth. “She didn’t give the impression she’d willingly display her failures to you.”
“They aren’t failures,” Azriel mutters, ice burning in his eyes as he watches Eris with a glacial look.
“No? Because the control over her magic was pretty pathetic to me,” Eris replies lowly.
Azriel snarls, low and threatening, shadows concentrating into a darkness worthy of the Night Court’s Spymaster, deep and deadly as they writhe in warning. “I didn’t realise she had you so tightly wrapped around her flaky little finger,” Eris croons, and darkness rears back, preparing to strike, when three quiet taps are landed to the door, meagre and unimposing.
————
You peek your head into his chambers, bag slung over your shoulder as you pause on the threshold.
Tension is blatant in Azriel’s shoulders, wings slightly flared, an icy emotion tucked between the stern set of his brows, shadows darker—more frenetic—than they usually are. Looking over to Eris, you can see how he’s leaned back in his chair, that taunting glint in his naturally piercing gaze, and you can guess fairly easily the conversation they were having was not a friendly one—even without the aid of body language.
Maybe they were discussing Court matters.
“I—…Should I wait out—”
“Come in,” Eris orders, cutting you off, and your brows narrow a little at the tone, before softening out again, remembering who else is present. You shut the door behind yourself, turning your back to them to make sure it clicks shut quietly, then walking further into the room, stood a little distance from Azriel, not wanting to encroach on his space while he’s surely furious with you. At the very least immensely disappointed.
“Took you long enough,” Eris drawls, bringing your attention away from Azriel to meet his cutting gaze. Well, your eyes meet his. It’s practically impossible to not focus on the male at your right. You’re not sure if you're imagining the displeasure rippling from him, but you can only hope Eris hasn’t intentionally stirred things up. You know you won’t be able to protect yourself against whatever words he has for you after your abrupt departure.
“You haven’t left any tatters behind?” Eris asks, and a slight scowl dips your brows.
“I have everything,” you reply, readjusting the strap of the bag on your shoulder.
“Excellent. Then you can leave.”
You blink at the abrupt dismissal, glancing at him warily. “Weren’t you discussing something?” You ask Eris hesitantly, cautious about prodding where you aren’t welcome. “We were,” Eris replies, a viper’s smile on his sharp lips, amber eyes cutting to the male at your right. “But it appears your Spymaster doesn’t think you’re trustworthy enough.” It’s obviously a manipulation of truth, but that doesn’t make it easy to hear, heart hollowing out, spine losing a bit of rigidity.
“And who could blame him,” Eris continues, “you haven’t exactly been particularly honest with him, have you, cygnet?”
Your lips purse, averting your eyes from both of them, peering at the floorboards to your left, shame tightening around your throat. “Seems logical enough,” you say quietly, managing to keep your voice steady. You’d rather vanish right then and there, wiped clean from memory and existence than allow a tremor into your voice.
You’ve gotten yourself into this situation. Self-pity won’t fix anything.
“Then that is that,” Eris muses, pulling you from your thoughts. Azriel shifts, not saying another word to either of you as he makes for the door, and you glance at Eris a little longer, searching for a way back. He quirks a taunting brow, resting his jaw on his right hand, the flat-topped band of sterling silver catching the light with the motion. Your thumb brushes the ring on your own finger, before you turn, making for the door where Azriel’s waiting to take you back.
Back to the Night Court.
Back to Velaris.
Back to your family.
Back to be judged.
————
It was unnerving how alone you’d felt on the way out of the palace. Even knowing he was present, slipping through shadows, you couldn’t sense a single thing, and on more than one occasion had glanced around, worriedly trying to find him—but nothing.
It wasn’t until you passed the walls, heading out into the forest again that he emerged—silent and looming—unable to hear his footsteps even when he was right beside you. Unnervingly ghost-like.
You wait for him to speak, to say whatever it is that’ll inevitably bring tears to your skin, but he’s completely silent, leading the way. Knowing you’ll follow behind. Knowing you won’t speak to him until he initiates.
You’d been brought here by winnowing, but he makes no move to wrap either of you in his shadows, and a small part of you whispers that he wouldn’t want you to contaminate them. You try to ignore that part, but even the quietest voice will be heard over silence. Instead the tales spin deeper, that he hadn’t even wanted to retrieve you, content to have you out of the way, out of the Night Court, away from his home. At least that way there’d be no chance of his prophesied death coming to pass.
He’d be safe, and you wouldn’t be bothering him.
Wouldn’t be bothering any of them.
He walks deeper into the forest, silent and steadfast, while you watch as his boots tread through the fallen leaves, not daring to look any higher in case it disgusts him further. You have no concept of how long you follow after him for—long enough your feet begin to ache lightly, but you push through it—silently waiting for the conversation to start. For the first question to be asked. For the first blow to be landed.
Azriel doesn’t stop when you try to shift your bag to the other shoulder, your right one aching, and something in your stomach drops when your pace slows but his remains constant, so you hurriedly finish the switch, and make an effort to catch up, careful not to trip. Hunger gnaws at your bones, but you keep quiet, not wanting to interrupt his pace. It’s not until your stomach audibly protests that he comes to a pause, glancing over his shoulder to you, and you swiftly duck your head, averting your eyes from his painfully familiar hazel set. Breaths deepening as you come to a stop with him.
“When did you eat last?” He asks. The first words he’s said to you.
“Yesterday,” you answer quietly, pressure tight across your chest as you try to keep your breaths quiet but even. “Do you have food on you?” He asks. You nod. You’d wrapped up a pastry from breakfast, it being the only thing you’d be able to savour. Even years later, the habit of not wasting food still remains prominent.
His boots shift, turning to face forward as he begins walking again. You follow silently, seeing no point in nodding or replying. It’s not like you’re going to do anything else. “There’s a clearing up here. You can eat there.”
Azriel pauses beside a particularly large oak tree, and you swallow, and you habitually consider where the least offensive place to sit would be. So you’re nicely out of his way. The ground is muddy, so you’re forced to follow beside his footsteps to the oak, setting as silently as you can on one large branch that’s gnarled and shoved through the earth to curl into a large seat.
Your pulse spikes, wondering if this will be where you have the one-sided discussion, perching the bag on your legs, searching through for the little pastry. It’s made harder by your bare hands, how every piece of fabric seems to bite at your skin with each brush, piercing painfully as you search, until you spot the orange scarf, pulling it out to find the pastry wrapped in a napkin.
He doesn’t say anything, but you feel like you’re wasting time.
You peer at the pastry in your hands, not particularly keen on eating it. You’re close enough to nausea as is, and don’t want to tempt fate with giving your stomach something to regurgitate. But it would be weird to put it away now, so you’ll just have to take small bites. Hope that you can stomach it. A few minutes pass, but you’ve hardly made a noticeable dent in the food, guilt weighing on your bones, pausing between each mouthful to peer around the clearing dully.
Your fingers fumble a little when Azriel moves, settling on the root beside you, your muscles stitching themselves taut, and you hastily shift yourself tighter so he has his space. Almost dropping the pastry in your stuttering movements.
He’s quiet for a bit, and you swallow thickly, attempting to focus on the food before you so as not to stare, but internally you can feel the beats passing, heart ticking tighter…tighter…
“Why did you leave?” He asks quietly.
You still, able to feel the narrow wooden box digging into your thighs. Pausing as the tension abates a little, like how you imagine it would feel to watch an arrow loose from a bow, watching it arc in the sky, then slowly plummet down, seeking out its target. The breath that would breathe out in relief once it embedded itself in flesh, those few, stretching moments at last having come to an end, and one can relax into the clarity of the pain. The certainty of the wound.
“I wanted to get out,” you mumble thickly, keeping the shake from your voice.
“So you went to him?” Azriel asks. You head lowers a little in sorrow.
Where else were you supposed to go?
“You could have asked to be taken somewhere,” he says quietly, and guilt tightens itself around your throat. Is there any way to explain to him why you’d left when you hardly understand it yourself? It had been a crescendo of nerves, of bottled up worries tightening with pressure, like air being blown into a brown paper bag until it burst. Is there any way to tell him you’d like to be able to ask things of him, but in truth you’d rather be slowly pulled apart by pressure than worry him with pointless tasks that only serve your benefit? How can you ever hope to speak with him honestly, when your very heart seems to be the thing warning you away—that same heart that wants to press into him, to beg and cry for forgiveness and reassurance.
“At least have the decency to answer,” he says quietly when you don’t respond, and you feel the small tremor that shudders up your throat, fearing the oncoming disaster. “I wanted to go on my own,” you get out, words softer than a whisper.
He’s quiet, and you wonder if that’s the end of the discussion for now.
But, “did you think at all about what the consequences would be from going to him?” He asks, gaze ahead, but attention pressing down on you. “Or did you forget you have people around you, that your actions impact.”
Your grip loosens on the pastry, choosing to wrap it back up in the napkin, fingers shaking slightly. A lump rising in your throat.
“Answer,” he murmurs, promptingly.
“I just wanted to go,” you whisper hoarsely, fingers wringing together. “I thought—… I thought it would be better if I was fur—… If I was gone.”
“Are you going to tell Mor where you went?” He questions softly. “Or did you not think about that part either?”
“I made progress,” you try, raising your gaze to his. “I can summon it, if I concentrate.”
His lips remain unmoving, but his eyes…gods, his eyes. You betrayed her, you know. All of them.
Breath catches in your throat, and you have to look away. Unable to face him. It. Any of it.
“Why is it so bad?” You ask quietly. “All I did was leave for a little under a week. I was trying to get better.”
“Stop. Lying,” he mutters lowly, blood freezing in your veins, fingers wringing together. Silence ticks by, and you wonder if he can hear the humiliatingly loud pulse of your heart, erratic and stumbling as it usually does around him. You don’t think he’s ever so obviously shown what he’s thinking, how he’s feeling.
Why is this the first way you see it?
Why is this the first time he allows it?
“Just tell me what you want,” you ask quietly, voice faltering as you stare at him helplessly. “You’re never happy with anything I do,” you manage, trembling with growing turmoil, “so please, just tell me what you want, and put me out of my misery.”
He exhales harshly, leaning back into the trunk, lips tugged down at the corners, reproach tucked between his brows, so rarely softened by charm anymore. At least not while you’re around. Almost never when you’re around.
“I don’t feel I should have to tell you how you fucked up here,” he replies lowly, and you push back on the flinch at the crude wording. “You made a bad choice.”
“Imagine how much worse the others were,” you reply lowly, a hint of resentment—not directed at him—present in your tone. He stiffens at your side, then his gaze slides slowly over to you, lethal and condemning, but it’s like you can’t look away. You physically can’t duck your head, or shy away. “You’re really joking at a time like this?”
You meet his eyes fully, presently, taking him in against the darkening sky, winter sun already on the way out for the day, the chill more than prominent, but you don’t dare reach for the scarf in your bag. “Tell me what you want,” you repeat softly, no louder than a last breath on dying lips.
“I want you to be honest,” he replies, brows narrowing, “for once, apparently.”
“About what?”
“Why you went to him.” He nearly spits, unable to entirely keep his ire at bay, something passing behind his eyes.
You’re quiet. Silent.
Then you lean back into the trunk of the tree, head tilting back into the rough bark, hands settling numbly in your lap. Shoulders slope, and you peer up into the grey sky, gloomy and heavy with unshed tears. Thick and thunderous. Fitting for the storm that’s on its way.
“Please don’t be angry,” you whisper, hardly a breath from your lips, a prayer whisked away by the static air. He’s silent, and your throat closes up. “Azriel,” your murmur, swallowing thickly. “Please.”
Moments tick by, stretching and warping as your heart thumps heavily in your chest, utterly bewitched, utterly at his mercy. It’s exhausting.
He sighs, and you try not to stiffen as he glances over to you, feeling that familiar prickle of skin as lovely hazel settles on you. A few warm rays making it through the dim clouds before being frozen off by the icy breeze. Winter’s most definitely on its way.
“I won’t be angry,” he murmurs softly. “Just…talk to me. Like you used to.”
Your arms fold over your chest, closing in on yourself, feet pressing together as you hunch over the bag in your lap, peering at the muddy ground. The smell of parchment rises from your memories, dusty and familiar, but lacking the warmth of nostalgia. Like the bitterness of a tea left to steep for too long, so it dries out your throat, eyes watering from its ticklish bite.
“I couldn’t do it on my own,” you admit quietly. Fingers brushing your knuckles. Raw and flaky.
The thoughts swirl in the back of your mind, ready to roar and rage, becoming so loud they’re deafening, suddenly cutting quiet so fast you have no desire to understand what it means when the waters draw back. What it means when the sea itself shrinks away, leaving a barren and washed-up beach.
“But, the idea of trying in front of you…any of you…and then falling flat at such a small hurdle…” You look to your left, away from him, pulling tighter into yourself. Can anything good come of this kind of honestly? With him?
“I don’t have much anymore, Azriel,” you breathe lowly, struggling silently with the humiliating vulnerability. How bare you are, just waiting for steel to pierce your skin. Like tossing yourself over a cliff and hoping the jagged rocks far below will soften your fall.
“I just wanted to keep my dignity. The scraps left of it after…what happened…”
Your toes curl in your shoes, feet crossed, feeling as though your heart is trying to cave in on itself, swallowed by a vacuum suctioning you back down with the force of a flooded spring river.
“So it was better to fail in front of Eris?”
“But I don’t owe him success,” you argue uselessly, eyes squeezing shut in attempts to keep the tears at bay as your head falls into your hands. “I don’t—…I don’t owe him anything.”
“You don’t owe us anything either,” he replies.
“I owe my entire life to you,” you nearly hiss, spine curving in as your brows cramp together, jaw wound so tight you feel like a tooth might crack beneath the intense pressure, nails pressing into the soft skin of your brow.
“Feyre was the one who saved the three of you,” he reminds quietly, slowly, but you’re shaking your head. Staring down into your lap, tension rippling so clearly from your bunched up form Azriel considers laying a hand on your trembling shoulder as if to pull you from a trance. “No. I know, but…” Your fingers press into your eyes, unable to articulate what you can feel in your stomach. “If she hadn’t gone to Night,” you breathe heavily, shakily, “if she hadn’t gone here, we’d still be back there, entirely human, and I—… I wasn’t going to last much longer there.”
Azriel pauses at your side, taking on the information silently. “You were ill?” He asks softly—he’d had no idea about that. Your shoulders shake, and he can’t tell if it’s with laughter or muffled sobs. Maybe a little of both.
“Maybe,” you whisper, “I don’t know enough about medicine to say, but I…” You shake your head again, and he’s able to sense that’s as much as he’ll get. It’s been over two years, and this is the first he’s hearing of it even in vague detail—he knows this isn’t something he can press.
“It doesn’t matter now,” you say with rueful conviction, palms pushing wetness from your cheeks, spine straightening before collapsing back against the trunk. Tired and exhausted. “We’re out. I don’t need to do anything now.”
Azriel’s brow furrows. “You’re content to stay in your room and rot away?”
You rest your head in your hands, leaning over the bag, staring down into its contents. What else is there?
“You could spend time with your family, for starters,” he replies and you aren’t sure if you imagine the note of impatience in his voice. “Your sisters worry about you a lot. It’s not good for you to be up in that room all the time.”
“Well it seems every time I come out of that room I somehow end up getting in your way.”
“Is that what this is about?” He asks abruptly, and your lips press together, lower one curving over. “I thought we sorted that out,” he says quietly, calming the sharpness of his tone, hearing it even in his own ears, glancing over your hunched figure. “We did,” you reply, muffled by your arms, voice turning watery as you ease in a short breath. “We did.”
A beat passes, then tension stutters in your chest as he gently lays his palm over your shoulder. “Please just talk to me,” he says softly, and you struggle to keep your breaths even as your lungs shudder beneath that touch. After spending so long wanting it…craving it…convinced feeling how gentle his touch could be over and against your skin would fix everything…even temporarily… You try to swallow the lump in your throat. “If not me, then Elain, or Feyre, or Nesta,” he pauses, “…Bas.”
You aren’t paying much attention, though, thankful for the way your mind melts beneath the warmth of his palm. How heat is sinking into your skin, slowly spreading through your shoulder as your muscles thaw. Pressure is lessened, and the tension that had been stitching the tendon taut loosens, allowing breath the ease in and out of your lungs with tiring relief. You could deflate with fatigue. Just turn limp and boneless, better for absorbing impact than having it crack against you.
“Just talk with us some more so this doesn’t happen again,” he urges quietly. “Come down to the river house—you know Feyre keeps your room open—or join us for dinner. At least try. If that doesn’t work, we can find something else.”
You don’t reply. Just remain tucked away from the world. Content to remain within your small shell as long as you can keep that warmth on your shoulder.
The pressure lightens, and your heart hides away as his hand slips from your shoulder, leaving your skin starkly cold with the absence of his presence.
“I’m sorry for what I…for how things transpired. Between…us,” Azriel murmurs, unsure how much to say, to not bring up past pains, especially if they aren’t as healed as you’ve led him to believe. He’s starting to become unsure what to believe about you—he hadn’t ever considered you might run from them. How bad things might have become to force you into that position. Are things that bad?
“I’m sorry, too,” you mumble, voice a little hoarse, and Azriel listens attentively. “I shouldn’t have told you how I felt, in the library. I shouldn’t have made my feelings your problem.”
“They aren’t,” he says softly, but you shake your head as if you haven’t heard him.
“I’m sorry.”
————
He tries speaking twice more on the way back, but the conversations lead nowhere, no longer flourishing as they had, once upon a time. So long in the past they feel coloured by age. Turned stiff and yellow at the edges.
He tries slowing his pace so she’ll walk at his side, but she just drops further back, silently pressing between his footsteps as she trails, head kept down to remain focused on taking one step at a time. The shadow that is cast across her face from the down-tilted angle of her head is deeper than he would have expected.
When he hears her shifting the bag across her shoulders for the third time, he quietly plies the straps from her hands, relieving her of the physical weight. She makes no obvious protest, aside from the stiffening of her body at his approach, but he can spot the relief when he takes the bag. Moving it to his own shoulder, he can make out what feels like a wooden box, the kind made to keep a weapon from being damaged. The thought gives rise to instinctive alarm.
Why might she have a weapon in her bag?
His shadows subtly shift at his back, rising secretively to examine her. Questions begin rising to his mind: unkind, unfair questions that are habitual in his line of work. He tries to shake them off, but they remain firmly rooted in his mind, burrowing deeper with each stride that has the narrow box digging into his side, as if already trying to burrow into his flesh.
How did she know Eris would take her in? How could she possibly guarantee making the trek across Prythian over night would pay off? It’s an absurd risk to take, regardless of circumstance. He can think of answers to those questions, but they don’t sit well with him. An answer to why she might be so familiar with Eris supposing they’ve spoken less than a handful of times. A certainty she must have possessed to take the risk that isn’t one she would have from that little contact. And if she’s hiding how much contact she might’ve had with him…
She was already hiding her magic from them…then there’s the prophecy too. Bas, and the illness. Why were these things she hadn’t mentioned? He can understand the recent silence, but why not before…? Regardless of immediate relevance, it shows she’s prone to secret-keeping.
Azriel eases in a steadying breath, descending into a calm, cold mental state. Sinking into indifferent objectivity.
She isn’t stupid. Far from it, having spent so much time in the library, where there’s all kinds of information just ripe for the picking. And Eris isn’t stupid, either. If he saw a weak spot, he’d go for it. And if Eris went for her, would she be able to resist something she was unable to see for what it truly was?
Azriel’s skin goes a little cold, reminded of the prophecy.
He will die, and it will be by her hand.
He supposes he can only control how much impact it will have on those around him. If Eris has managed to wrap her up in some slow-moving scheme…but that’s just speculation. Still, his instincts are telling him something is wrong with the narrow wooden box, one that must have come from Eris. A box fashioned like those to hold weapons. From Eris. To the female who will kill him.
He should ask her what it is.
Azriel would’ve shaken his head if those habits hadn’t been crushed out of him centuries ago. He can’t just ask her if she’s planning to kill him.
But it would allow a chance for her to explain what’s in the weapon case.
But it would alert her to his knowing about the blade inside her bag. She’d wanted to hide her magic from the start, and earlier she’d mentioned she’d gotten further…how much further? If it’s magic any similar to Nesta’s, it would be unwise to have a confrontation here, alone. Still within Autumn Court territory.
But it would be more dangerous to bring her back to Velaris. To bring her back into the beating heart of the Night Court where her detonation would be fatal.
Azriel blinks, and returns back into the waning light of day—it’ll soon be night.
What can he do, really? If he’s destined to die….who is he to try and get in the way of the Mother? Would he kill her to save his own life? Is that what he would do in order to live a little longer, before a new threat looms to end him? He wants to kill her no more than he desires his own death.
But if it came down to it…what would he choose?
His shadows observe her silently, as they had been throughout his internal struggle. He focuses on what he can see, discarding the lens of suspicion that’s been embedded in him as Spymaster, centuries of limited trust having an impact on his mind.
All he sees is a young woman walking through a dark forest, following him off the pathway.
Internally, he sighs—there always seems to be a constant flow of problems as of late, and peace seems to be persistently remaining just out of reach. A few more years, and then there will be peace; a few more political aggressions to navigate, and then they can rest; just one more person to heal, and then they can be happy. When will the peace truly arrive, though? Is it all wishful thinking? An imagined utopia that will make every sin he’s committed acceptable? Is it just his mind finding more excuses to justify the things he’s done in the name of protecting his family and court?
She’s just one more disturbance, keeping peace from settling.
Azriel swallows, thinking heavily. Even if she was out of the way, there would still be everything else to deal with. Will this problem be the last one, or will a new threat fall in to fill the space of the old one? Hasn’t it been long enough, by now? Hasn’t he done enough?
Shadows check on her again, her head hanging silently, those once bright eyes dull and dark as they follow numbly in his footsteps. The female with whom he’d spent so many afternoons with discussing things in the library…where is she? Is he at fault for her disappearance?
Closing his eyes briefly to relieve the ache that’s been slowly building just below his brows, he allows himself to ponder.
Is it pointless to try and salvage their relationship?
Would it be better if she did kill him?
————
The storm clouds have gathered, full and swollen with rain and thunder. No lightening though. Lightening would suggest some kind of magnificence, and there’s nothing magnificent about the cool temperature of your blood, nor the dull buzz in the back of your mind. The overwhelming grey of your surroundings as you emerge from the tunnel.
The air is drier in the Night Court, you vaguely realise. No dampness nor humidity that you’d grown subconsciously accustomed to from less than a week’s stay in Autumn. A small break of sunshine between the dismay grey you’d all grown so accustomed to for the first few months of the year, back when you were human. Weak, fallible humans, but simpler. Quiet and peaceful, even if that silence was from the constant prowl of starvation. It had been easier to bear.
You don’t wait to see if Azriel will try to speak again once he’s flown the both of you back up to the House of Wind, silently turning your back to trace the familiar halls of the House, moving without awareness, muscle memory guiding you down the corridors, past the tables littered with napkins and cutlery, past the shelves displaying pale crockery and silver chalices, past the chest with a few discarded daggers atop, arrowheads littered haphazardly across the surface as if someone had cast them down carelessly.
The room is greyer than you remember, too tidy to be a lived in space, but it has those reminders—the gifts you were given, and you absently touch your earlobe, squeezing it between your finger and thumb.
Azriel pauses at the threshold, taking the bag off his shoulder. Does he know you sold the earrings? Those pretty, pretty earrings? Probably some of the nicest things you could have believed to be your own.
They must be getting tired by now. All of them.
Blonde hair and sparkling eyes pass dully through your mind, and your heart dies a little more, understanding how you’ve ruined the small blessing. There’s no coming back from what you’ve done—not without significant work, at least, and you’re so tired. In your bones, in your eyes, in your mind. You’ve lived through a lot, but thanks to immortality, you have no choice but to live through more. A body being dragged through the mud, carried towards a grave that was never dug.
Azriel’s mouth is moving, has been moving since he removed the bag from his shoulder, but you haven’t been hearing. Mind too tired and numb to manage focus, grasping only basic colours and lines.
He’s looking at you, and you’re looking back, but not into his eyes. His words pass through your mind meaninglessly, and you wonder if you’re real. A strange pressure is wrapping its tingling fingers around your skull, squeezing like you’re wearing a hat that’s a little too tight. It will take a lot of work to fix what you’ve done. A lot of work you can’t manage. A debt that deepens faster than you can repay it. A sink draining faster than you can fill it. Blood cooling faster than you can stop it.
Maybe it would be better to let it cool, for a while.
————
Azriel doesn’t feel comfortable leaving her in the House alone, with that dull look in her eyes.
He had planned to fly back down to the River House, to let Rhys and Feyre know she was back, and she was safe, to give her some space maybe for an hour or so to let her get her bearings again. Not too long alone, though. That look hadn’t been bright. Instead he ends up slumping into one of the boney, wooden chairs in the kitchen, the House already brewing two cups of tea. He reaches out for Rhys, mentally feeling for the hidden bridge kept open. He finds it almost immediately, and an icy wind slams into him in greeting. Cold, swift, and perfectly telling to his brother’s current temperament.
You’re back.
Azriel bites back on the cringe at the ice in his High Lord’s voice—belying fury. He should have put together Rhys would be furious for Feyre, too, for stirring up this kind of stress for his mate.
She’s with me. How is Feyre?
More furious than I am, though I doubt she’ll show you.
There’s a pause, and Azriel steadies himself.
How is she?
It would be good for her to have company. Preferably in the River House, but if not, then having people up here. This time Azriel pauses, before adding, I think the ward on her room should be removed. So she’ll be able to hear that people are around, should she need them.
He’s met with silence, and Azriel wonders if Rhys is repeating the message back to Feyre, or if he’s simply that furious. A small part of him feels resentment at the constant speculation, that if the matter had been left between him and her then it wouldn’t have gotten so blown out of proportion.
We’ll be up in ten minutes, comes the clipped reply, before the mental bridge is severed. Leaving Azriel no choice but to wait in silence. It will likely be Rhys and Feyre coming up then—knowing she isn’t ready to see all of them so suddenly, though they’ve yet to learn where she’s been.
Feyre will go and speak to her sister.
And Rhys will be the one to speak to him.
What a mess.
The tea has a few minutes left of brewing, and he wonders if the House will demand he be the one to take the mug to her, or if it will be delivered on its own. He’s not sure she would appreciate being disturbed right now.
As if his thoughts summoned her however, he hears quiet footsteps out in one of the hallways, reaching his sharp ears even through the closed doors and secure walls. He listens carefully, but she seems to just be pacing around, not coming toward him, or even really going in any particular direction. They pause, the silence heavy, and Azriel pays full attention. Another minute passes, then another, and another, but he couldn’t have missed those familiar footfalls.
After a fourth minute, he hears them again, ever so slightly heavier than before, and then they cut off abruptly. Sound sliced in two as she closes the door to her room.
Azriel glances over to the brewing tea, then blinks when he realises the House has set it on the table within reach. Just one cup, made with milk and sugar—not the way he likes it.
Looking over to the countertop, his mug remains steeping, steam trailing up from the hot liquid. The House seems to be demanding he take her the tea now.
Azriel shifts in his chair. It isn’t a good idea to disturb her again. He’s trying to give her at least these few minutes to herself, before Feyre arrives with Rhys—and that’s a conversation that might very well stretch hours. There’s a lot to discuss, after all. She’ll need her energy, and he’s probably the last person she wants to—
The mug slams down on the table before him, hot liquid spilling over with the force that it was dropped onto the surface.
He stiffens, watching the mug tensely as if the House might spill it onto his lap. The liquid ripples in the mug, splashing from side to side for longer than it should, before reluctantly calming.
Blowing out a breath, Azriel wraps his hand around the mug’s handle, reluctantly standing from the kitchen table.
If the House is being so adamant about giving her the cup, then he supposes he’ll just have to follow.
He still finds it a little strange, how the House came alive after Nesta lived inside it.
————
Silence hums in your ears, so quiet.
You’ve caused them so much trouble. Irreparably ruined your ties to the people you hadn’t wanted to hinder.
Silently, quietly, you move the bag to your bed, able to even hear the stretch of fabric as you raise it from the unnaturally clean floorboards. Opening it, you begin pulling the first thing you see out—the orange scarf form Autumn that has some small crumbs tucked between its folds, smelling faintly of pastry and something damp. One piece at a time, you make the slow trek to and form the wardrobe, feet unfeeling as they tread numbly across the smooth grain of the wood, mindlessly repeating the to and fro, the mechanical movements of unaware motion, folding fabric and hiding it away.
Your fingers bump the box, surprised by the hard collision, having expected to find more fabric, but are instead confronted by the narrow, wooden box. Use it wisely, written on the note in a neat and elegant script. Raising it from the bag, you sit down, hands resting over the surface before slipping your fingers into the indentations for ease of opening, cracking it open to find what’s inside. Eyes ease across the narrow length of wood tucked inside, the softly flared end for it to whistle through the sky.
The world disappears around you as you fall into thought, suctioned inwards by a gentle riptide as you dissolve into your mind. Imagining the blank look in Mor’s eyes when she finds out what you’ve done to her, the wall that will rise up as she sections you off from her life, rightly so, brings a quiet kind of sadness into your chest. A longing that has been numbed and dulled, desaturated by hopelessness. Imagining the dinners, voices chatting merrily around you but never at you, the way she won’t look at you. They are all immortal, and their disgust will reflect their lifespan.
You’ll be stuck. Endlessly dragging you feet after them in attempts to make amends. Stumbling and fumbling carelessly trying to make reparations, but smashing more pieces in your frantic hurry to clean the mess you’ve made. Gazing up from the pit of a well as the icy water slowly drains in, the small pin-prick of daylight so far above there’s no hope even trying to scale the wall. It would be more honourable to drown.
To wipe yourself from memory.
It would be better, you understand. To snuff out your own dwindling light, than force the trouble on them of bearing your sputtering flame.
You walk out into the hallway, quietly, silently. Passing the table with napkins and cutlery set, past the shelves with crockery and cups, past the chest with dull steel and blunt arrowheads. Passing further along, until you pause before the large mirror that’s mounted on the wall. You peer dully into the reflection, deciding to look upon and assign shape to name for what’s been causing all these problems. To see what they think of when burdens are mentioned, to understand where the impatience is directed.
You peer higher, the reflection skewed as you meet your own eyes in the blade’s polished steel, held above the mirror’s frame.
Time warps, and you look through the drawers. A few daggers, some unused sketchbooks, a piece of yellow wool, a ball of string. You check the second draw. Some folded napkins, more arrowheads, a shard of porcelain, a thimble, a discarded marble. You check the third draw. Some salts, spices, dried leaves, matching Illyrian blades, pots of ink, a copper coin. You check the fourth draw. Crisp bedsheets, off-white pillowcases, a dented metal mug, a small container of some kind, one arrowhead, a crossbow.
You return to your room with the ball of string and the empty crossbow.
Swallowed in the silence of the bedroom, hidden behind the wards.
The snare is easy to set up, directions still vivid in your mind and for a few short moments, you allow yourself to settle into the certainty of following through with those instructions. Encountering a bit of trouble with how to keep the tension of the string with no earth, but your mind works quickly, weighing the string taut with the one book from your shelf, and a square box containing a mechanical universe. Making sure the string is just tight enough so the faintest touch will snap the tension loose.
You glance at the string on the floor, eyes catching on the small painting on your desk.
You slot the arrow into the crossbow with a satisfying click.
The ash stings your fingertips.
You stand with your back to the door, facing the crossbow head on. Your heart bleeds a little, tears at last dripping slowly down your cheeks, but it will be better this way. Easing in a deep breath, you relax into that feeling deep in your chest that’s telling you this is the right thing to do. It was always going to happen, there was never a path you could have taken that wouldn’t have lead you to this one way or another. It’s a feeling almost like relief: there’s finally a way out.
One perfect, swift, execution. An ash arrow to your heart, splitting the muscle and ending its relentless beat. Your breathing increases to a stuttering pulse before calming, and you swallow, glancing to the windows. You know you’ll cause a mess.
Fingers open the latch to the window, fresh air gently rolling in, and your breathing stutters again. You’ll be irrevocably gone.
Peering about the bedroom, one you hadn’t felt was truly your own, but had stayed long enough to begin putting down roots—the bookmark laying beneath the pendant on the desk beside the painting, the jigsaw still wrapped in a bow beneath the bed, the sealed nail polish and briefly used lip tint within the cupboard. Sobs shudder through your chest strangely.
A part of you doesn’t want to leave yet.
A small, human part, that still fears solitude despite your chosen loneliness.
You step toward the book, body caving in, heart collapsing in on itself, the emotive feeling similar to the convulsions you’ve experienced after vomiting. A vacuum hidden inside of your chest, finally imploding. You should end it now.
The door creaks behind you, and you flinch from terror at someone witnessing your vulnerability.
Hazel eyes meet your own, at once scanning the room out of habit, and those lovely eyes widen as you recoil on instinct, foot knocking into the book.
————
Given the pleasure of time, he had been allowed to ponder the impossible question: to choose between his death and her own, each equally impossible. How is anyone to make a choice like that?
But, caught in between precious moments, there’s no time for thought or debate. It’s easy to declare gallantry, to flippantly comfort a companion with those easy words—I’d take an arrow for you.—but it’s an entirely different matter when the arrow is whistling straight toward them.
And yet before the mug has even hit the floor, he feels the familiar, burning pain as the arrow pierces through his flesh, slicing him open as the wrongness bleeds into him, swiftly poisoning his blood, draining the inherent magic from his body.
————
You stare up into wide hazel eyes, agony etched across his delicate features, the very tip of the arrow lightly piercing your skin from where it’s shot straight through him, caught in his flesh.
He groans lowly, his weight falling more heavily on your shoulders where his hands had grabbed you to switch your positions, and you’re helpless as his knees give out from pain, dragging you down with him as he collides with the ground.
Horror pounds through your body, heart beating a thousand times a second until it’s risen into your throat, hands shaking violently as you try to hold him steady, stinging with the burning heat of blood from his side.
Mother murder you.
“Az,” you stammer hoarsely, staring at his twisted features, brow furrowed deeply, breathing ragged as it puffs against your skin. The familiar scent of blood filtrates through your system, undiluted and metallic, and he’s dying he’s dying he’s dying—
His hand weakly grasps the back of your neck, grabbing your attention as your hands fumble, trembling with uncertainty and despair, fingertips beginning to sizzle as panic floods your veins, tossed into the rapids, utterly out of control as your mind unravels, regret stabbing through your heart.
His lips are moving but your ears are ringing, itches burning at your skin, a streaking noise piercing through your head like the screaming from those bloody fields. He’s speaking and you try to read his lips, but your eyes aren’t focusing, tears blurring your vision as sobs heave in and out of your chest, burning at your throat and lungs. You had tried to stop it! You were so close to preventing it!
Your hand settles on his cheek, already feeling cool beneath your burning, burning, glowing—
Feyre and Rhys, his lips form, and you shake. Eyes scanning his features frenetically. His own flick to the door, and you understand them to be here? You stare at him helplessly, hopelessly—it won’t matter how you scream or cry for them, not even if you bled your throat raw. The ward against noise that you’d been so thankful for, that Feyre had given in attempts to help, to remedy a wrong.
Something so small, yet so immoveable. Impossible to defeat. Felled by your own, stupid need—
He’s going to die.
Neither you nor Azriel have a second to prepare as the power wells up inside of you with the force of a damn broken loose, that internal wall shattering entirely, blown to bits as you feel the staggering pressure swallow your brain, crushing in intensity at the rapid division of cells, splitting atoms colliding as the explosion blows you apart.
Brilliant green light detonates, silence settling for a second before the noise crushes back down, the room blown to pieces.
The ground shakes beneath you, floorboards cracking and splintering as a hole is torn through the side of the House, tearing through the wards as the noise thunders above the city, sweeping across Prythian with the force of the Cauldron that had torn down the Wall.
One final surge of magic before the life is taken from his body.
Pain lacerates through your figure as something fundamental cracks open inside of you, all at once draining the agony that had beens steadily building up, all of it gushing out, skin resplendent with a sickening golden-green light, radiating your flesh.
Then you collapse, falling into the pool of steadily cooling blood surrounding Azriel’s body.
The prophecy having come to fulfilment.
——————————————————————————————————————————————
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tuliptic · 2 months ago
Text
Start Line: Growing and Transforming
We've been running this far, non-stop, all day yeah   Never getting tired, we keep up this runner's high   You know graduation   Even though it's over, it's not the end   Put on some new shoes   Yeah we're ready at the start line
Things have been difficult for a lot of us, and sometimes, we just want a flicker of hope, or some words of encouragement that can push us to go further. Just… Something, a message, to tell us that the pain we’re going through right now is temporary, and things will be better. 
Close your eyes, meditate on this topic and tell yourself that you’re on a brand new start line, and ask for the messages you’re called to hear. Breathe in and out, make sure your mind and heart is calm. Then, open your eyes to see which pile talks to you the most/draws you in the most. Once you’ve found your pile, scroll down to the respective parts to see what are the messages for you.
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Pile 1 - Pile 2
Pile 3 - Pile 4
Disclaimer: This is solely for my entertainment purposes. Take only whatever you feel like it. If it doesn’t resonate, it’s okay to just drop it. Also, I do not consent to my work or images being used by third parties on this platform or other websites as well.
Decks used: Crossing Star Tarot Deck (Major Arcana), Linestrider Tarot Deck, Sweet Dreams Oracle Deck, Starcodes Astro Oracle Deck, self-made lyrics deck.
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Pile 1
One card to represent you: The Magician rx
The first thought that popped into my mind is that… You’ve probably been told (many times) that you’re a good manifestor, but you have not seen it working out for you, or at least, not at the moment. You’ll need to try an error (or maybe errors) to find what works for you, and what works best for you. It can be rather disheartening to fail, but look for the opportunities in life’s challenges and learn the lessons. You work better by letting your physical body learn rather than your brain to absorb the knowledge. You probably have also noticed your tendency to self-sabotage, but you don’t intend to do anything about it. Perhaps, not at the moment, as you’re not in a right place yet to fix yourself, but you need to remember it and to work on it.
1. Why have things happened?  - Four of Cups
You have been too focused on what you’re feeling and not looking at the outer world, on whatever that’s happening around you or to you. This definitely has something to do with The Magician rx above, where you’re sabotaging yourself and not focusing on the present. It’s giving me very… Neptune rx in Pisces vibes, so some of you who picked this pile may have Pisces placements. It’s like living in the world yet not living at the same time, where you’re floating and drifting, not seeing where you’re at or where you’re going. Life has been throwing you opportunities to learn the lessons, but you’re not learning it. Not to mention that you’re not organising what it is that you’re feeling inside and to do something about it. With all of that happening, some of you may feel you’re at a standstill or some will have their head and heart wrapped up in different bags and not know how to unify them.
2. How to stop your train of thoughts and start again from where you’re standing? - Knight of Pentacles rx
You have to stop dilly-dallying, and pick up the pace if you want to move away from where you’re standing. Sure, ADHD paralysis is difficult to deal with when you’re frozen (I’m referring to myself as well, in case y’all think I’m attacking anyone), but it is already something if you can move yourself away from the way of harm first. My first thought here is to train your body to be able to move on autopilot from time to time, which will help you in countless ways. Sure, you’re still sluggish and unenthusiastic, but let your body move first, exercise, and let your brain rest during those times.  Another way you can attempt to stop those thoughts is to get help. Not only external help from professionals, but more of building healthy interpersonal relationships. True friends will want to help you to be better, and will be willing to spend some time to accompany you to carry out activities that are beneficial for both of you.
3. What to look forward to? - The Magician rx
You’ll be able to tap into your energy. I do think that this is a time for you to work together with your manifestation talent/skill, and for you to decide which direction you want to head. You need to remember that the direction you’re going is not something fixed, so no worries in making a decision. You can change that anytime, or go on a different journey if it doesn’t fit you. The more important thing is to have a welcoming heart, to dream and invite limitless magic into your life, allow your guides to show in unexpected ways. Do not be afraid, go step by step and find out what works for you.  Of course, you can look forward to this if you take action. If you’re not doing anything, do not hope or wish for things to fall directly into your laps.
4. What have you left behind and grown from? - The Tower
You’ve gone through a huge upheaval, you’ve gone through a lot of chaos and traumas in the past. Now, you’re going through another fundamental shift. It may not be as tremendous and messy as it was in the past, but this shift is something more of an energy thing, where you need to learn to be more selective with where and who you want to spend your energy on. This energy encompasses mental, spiritual and physical energy, and you have to remember that you’re also an exhaustible being, where you can’t focus on others forever. Look back, and you’ll see how far you’ve gone from that unhappy place. Remind yourself that you’re able to do it again. Once you’ve grown from it, you’ll also be more free to explore your skills and abilities. You’ve always had a tendency to have a foot in almost everything, and with you now knowing how to distribute your energy and time? You definitely can. You can try focusing on what’s in front of you instead of attempting to explore far, you might find treasures closer to you instead.
5. When will things start getting better? When will you get your justice? - The Chariot
The Chariot talks about action and goal. I don’t think I need to say much on this, as it’s pretty self explanatory. However, remember to hold onto your reins as you move towards wherever it is you’re heading. You need to have a clear goal and a destination, else you’ll run out of energy/fuel, and you may end up in different places. You’ll need a clear and visible goal, and the stages need to be well defined and measurable. You get strength from seeing actual results, and that’s when you gain the confidence to continue moving forward. You will get justice when you’re moving forward. The justice here is internal, as it is more towards countering the self-sabotaging part of you. It’s difficult, but once you wipe the tears and bite on the happiness you’re seeing, you’ll know your purpose in life, and you’ll taste that justice.
6. Advice for you - Five of Pentacles, Nine of Cups rx, Ace of Cups rx
Some of you may be facing financial difficulties or even health problems. It’s best if you work on them now as you prepare for what it is to come. It can be quite disheartening at times when you question and wonder why hard times fall on you more often than others. This may also result in an unhealthy stream of emotions. Emotions itself isn’t a bad thing, the problem would be how you’re managing it. Don’t hold them in and stack them up. Find a safe place to release them, understand those emotions and nurture yourself back. Place your trust in the Universe, believe that whatever that is happening to you right now is part of a greater plan. Twist your thoughts a little, see it as a blessing where you’re finding problems when it’s still salvageable (it’s still painful but hey, we can work on it eventually). Tune into your heart, listen to your wishes, and look at what you have achieved throughout the years. Your wishes of the past are now fulfilled, and you’ve finally built the life you’ve wanted when you were much younger. Well, it may exist in different forms, or you’ve gotten it not according to how you originally planned, but it’s there. Know that you can change your wishes into reality because you have the power. Believe in yourself. Let’s say if you want to recover faster, you can manifest quicker healing. You can. Just make sure that you do not fall into the habit of feeling dejected and dissatisfied quickly. Hold on to a heart of gratitude. It will open up doors for you.
Overall energy: The Tower rx, Six of Pentacles
There’s a mix of energy here. You’re unsatisfied that things have gone out of your control, yet there’s also a sense of relief that you are not responsible over those things going out of control. Despite the difficult times, you still hold generosity in your heart, where you offer what you have (materials, energy, time) to those who need them. In turn, you’ll also be blessed with what you need. Accept help given to you with an open heart and a grateful attitude. The greater plan the Universe has in mind for you may have something to do with people and connection, so that may be an aspect you want to pay attention to. Things or memories from the past can be resurfacing, so stop hiding or running away, and face them. 
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Pile 2
One card to represent you: Death
First thing I’m picking up here is that you’re going through a lot of changes right now, and the next thing is that… You’re being watched over. There's a lot, and I mean A WHOLE LOT of things that are going on right now, and they’re overflowing your plate. I could sense a certain level of panic and dread over everything, but there’s also some form of apathy where you’re tired of everything and anything happening all at once. There’s too much that’s going on to the point you have no idea where or what to focus on, so you’re probably at a standstill where you’re looking at the overflowing plate, doing nothing. I’d say that this is a “freeze” response because you’re at a point where you can’t process anything at the moment, but once your brain starts spinning again, you’ll get things done. You have people watching over you, or your guides are protecting you at this time. Imagine you’re standing still in the middle of the path but no one is hitting you. It’s like that. Your guides are making sure that you have enough time to process whatever that’s happening to you and around you. Once you start moving, they’ll follow behind you and help you out when you ask them, especially when you’re facing any confrontation.
1. Why have things happened? - The Hermit rx
You’ve withdrawn yourself from certain aspects of life (friendship, or work, or a certain class, or even a hobby) with attempts of healing yourself and to give yourself more time. Sure, you’ve got the time, but those times were not spent on yourself, those free times were not helping you, but the other people in your life. In another sense, you were still busy, and you did not get the rest you needed.  There’s a certain level of emptiness that I’m feeling here, and that you’re torn as well, not sure if you want to fill that emptiness or you want to remain it as so because of the comfort of being used to it. Do you trust yourself, with the steps and decisions you’ve been making? BET ON ME by ITZY was playing as I typed this out, and I do feel that there’s a message in this song for you.
2. How to stop your train of thoughts and start again from where you’re standing? - King of Pentacles rx
King of Pentacles is generally the last card of the deck, and what I'm seeing here is that you still have a lot more to go, that things are not final yet, and you have the ability (King) to change things to your favour. I understand that you're currently in a flight or freeze mindset, but you need to work your brain to trick it a little so that it moves, and you can reprogram it a little so that you can move away from the spot you froze. Be kind to yourself and let go of those thoughts that are haunting you, step away from those self-criticism, know that you deserve gentleness. The King is abundant in finances, life experience, but I'd also like to add connections into this list. To be a King, you must have known to pull strings around to make things work, to make sure you win the trust of the people. To achieve that, you need good and skillful people who are willing to listen to your plans and to make them work. Those connections are what will help you throughout your difficult times. Sure, people may have turned you down in the past, but know that they may not be in any position to extend any help back then, and that things may be different now. They will be more capable now. Some… May have a really painful tongue, not filtering their words. But still, they will help, and you'll be surprised with what they're able to offer.
3. What to look forward to? - Ten of Cups rx
This… probably is not gonna sound ideal to a lot of people but… You can look forward to having a fresh start. It's like the cups you have are now poured clean, and you are forced to redo things again, to fill them up again but this time, you get to choose what you fill them up with. Previously, when you were growing up, people around you filled those cups for you, helping you make decisions (that you may not like or agree with), or even tainting them (putting droplets of other things in it), and those form you to who you are today. But, by pouring them clean (a very, very painful process), you are now able to pour and fill your cups with whatever you want and whatever you need. You'll be able to work with your dreams and spirit's energy to reach your highest good as you fiercely protect your cups, your energy, your life. Your life is now yours to write.
4. What have you left behind and grown from? - Three of Wands
It feels like you have left behind a lot of original plans that you have made for yourself in the past as you build yourself anew. There's a lot of internal cleansing done, and you've decided to start everything from scratch again. You'll be able to build things again and fully immerse yourself in a new future you'll create. You've learnt to grow from pain and to see the smaller happiness in life, learning to accept that growth is inevitable. Visualisation is also vital here, where you will need to immerse yourself in whatever you have now as you visualise where you will be standing in the future. You decide your own path, and you have to walk it.
5. When will things start getting better? When will you get your justice? - Ten of Swords rx
Things will start getting better once you pull out all the swords from your back. There's a lot of… Purging. Yeah, purging is a more suitable word to use for your situation. Your situation is like the shelf full of ceramic plates that will crash the moment you open that door. But you still need to open it, you'll need to let all of those fall, and you can clean it, to make space for new items to put in. You now can choose metal plates, or plastic plates to put in, whatever it is that you want. But first, you need to clean the space, only then you'll invite limitless magic into your life and allow your spirit guides to show up in unexpected ways. They are there for you, through a breeze, through a flyer, through a sudden noise to stop you from crossing the road. Once you've made space, that's when you'll get your justice by living your best self.
6. Advice for you - King of Wands rx, Strength rx, Six of Swords rx
There's another King card here, telling me that whatever you're going through right now is not an easy one. It probably will be there a little longer and it is what will help you to build up your upcoming new life, to start everything again. You will need to be at peace with yourself and be kind to yourself first.  Turn your strength and focus inwards, nurture yourself, and do not shy from cutting people out of your life if they drain you too much, even if they are family. You need to understand that you are your own universe, and you are your own priority. If you do not prioritise yourself, no one will. Others do not have that responsibility over you, so let yourself breathe. For now, heal your wounds, use it as your badge of honour, and live your life as how you see fit. Remember, it is you who define who you are, not your past.
Overall energy: Strength, Nine of Wands
There's a lot of strength in you, actually, just that you have not known how to work with it right now, not sure how to turn that strength for yourself. You have been resilient in everything you do, no matter how battered up you are, so let those tension fall from you. Sit down in peace and quiet as you receive the messages from your guides, letting them guide you through this time of difficulty. Trust your feelings, they know you better than yourself. Listen to your emotions, they understand your needs better. Act on them when needed, you will know when the timing is right.
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Pile 3
One Two cards to represent you: The Tower rx, The Chariot rx
I'm… Not exactly that surprised to see two cards falling out. The Tree in this image symbolises the Tree of Life as I was doing the reading, so some of you who picked this pile may be told that you guys are knowledgeable or do possess some extensive knowledge in very specific fields. And with this knowledge comes expectations, which can be seen with two cards falling out for you. With these two cards, what I'm immediately picking on is that… You are in a phase of life that can be quite challenging right now, where things that are beyond your control are happening almost all at once, and you're losing your balance as you continue to run on the uneven paths. You're growing exhausted as you're being chased with expectations and by your own sense of duty. So, please take a break when you need it.
1. Why have things happened? - Three of Pentacles rx
There have been conflicts going on with you and your social circles, may it be disagreements between classmates/colleagues, or getting shunned by them for not going along with them. There’s a slight hint of one being an outcast here. Correlating to the cards representing you, how you became an outcast is also due to what you're going through life right now, requiring you to put a hold onto a lot of other things, including assignments and/or socialisation, etc. Your intuition has been your assistant throughout these times of perils, and it's giving me that you do know how and why you're in a situation that's making you stagnant. Not sure if you are capable of breaking that ice or you're resting at the moment before you take the first step out. Either way, unlike most people, you know where you’re standing at right now, and you do know how to make changes towards a new you if needed.
2. How to stop your train of thoughts and start again from where you’re standing? - Three of Swords
This is probably a weird way to put it, but you need to use your pain as a tool to help you get back to the present. You may be able to perceive pain differently, like… It's to prove that you're still living, that you're still alive, and you still can make changes to the situation you're in. You need to remind yourself that you're beloved, and that the Universe loves you and is throwing hints at you through very… questionable ways. Trust your inner wisdom and intuition, let them guide you to where you're supposed to be. Oddly, I'd say that you have been through something similar before, but you kinda panicked when your previous methods no longer work for this situation. This is the time where you need to find a new method that will help you develop your senses, and for you to be at peace with yourself again. Coping mechanisms, but let it help you with more than just coping.
3. What to look forward to?- The Chariot rx
I'd say that things will slow down, not because the problems are resolved, but because the tires have worn out. Your nightmare and problems have also run out of strength to go after you, which gives you a quick chance to take a small break before you retreat to somewhere safer, where you build a new coping mechanism and possibly plans for the upcoming problems. I'd also say that this is a good time for you to make new connections that will be helpful in the long run. Don't worry about burdening others, as I believe that there will be a chance for you to help them back. Friendships and connections are mutual, where both parties benefit from them.  Not sure if you’re the type who’d welcome new changes. Nevertheless, challenges will be coming your way for you to level up. I’d say that these challenges are coming in a way where you’re capable of managing it. From there, you’ll experience a new sort of rebirth, and you’ll find a new identity that works with you better. 
4. What have you left behind and grown from? - King of Pentacles
I have no idea why but I'm sensing some… Familial relationships and expected duties? Most of you may be working with establishing healthy boundaries with your family, making sure that the roles are properly and fairly distributed. It also feels like… Financial responsibilities aren't yours alone, and the entire family will need to figure out how to contribute and prepare for any emergencies.  You’re now the King, where you have a comfortable relationship with your finances, knowing that it’s yours, your property, and you have every right to access it and to use it without guilt. There may be a chance where your family or extended relatives have guilt-tripped you to sacrifice or contribute to their needs, and you’re unapologetically free from those now. You now learn to trust your intuition more and let your inner wisdom guide you through your way subconsciously. It’s now a part of your life where you don’t really need to sit and listen, as you’re driving on auto-pilot by your subconsciousness.
5. When will things start getting better? When will you get your justice? - The Sun rx
I'd say that things will start getting better at unexpected times, or even at times when you can't see hope. The Sun is unable to shine on all people, it's unable to pierce through thick walls, but it doesn't mean it's not there. The Sun here feels mellow, like it's keeping its warmth and heat in check to not burn the other living beings that it's feeding.  There’s also another message here that is assuring you that good things take time, and that you’ll need to be kind to yourself so that those blessings arrive and you’re ready to receive them wholeheartedly. The entire thing is a journey, and the roads can be bumpy. But still, what matters is the journey and you’re able to reach your final goal in a good condition, so take your time as you tread through those paths. Once you start walking and taking action, luck will fall by your side and accompany you through this journey.
6. Advice for you - Nine of Pentacles rx, Knight of Wands, Knight of Cups
You may be using your time unwisely by focusing on things that do not exactly benefit you. I’m not saying that you can’t, but you need to set your priorities straight and know what is the final goal of your actions. You may start a project that requires you to invest and purchase tools, when you’re rushing a deadline that’s gonna affect your assignment and final’s results. By doing this, you’re in a way, not planning well. Sure, you get your emotional fulfilment, but it also comes at the price of you failing your semester (touchwood). Passion projects can be fun, but you need to plan your time well, plan your resources well, plan your enthusiasm as well. The planning happens behind closed doors. Others will see how well you portray yourself and be drawn to you, but you need to remember the need for continuous effort for you to achieve the best results. The public, or people around you may gather around you because of how well you have a grip over yourself, and once things have calmed down, feel free to let yourself loose a little. People will show up around you, and it’s totally fine for you to enjoy the attention and affection. You just need to remember how much you’ve put in to build yourself, and not let others take you for granted, or to take advantage of your skills or what you have to offer.
Overall energy: Strength, Four of Wands rx
Strength and beauty comes in all forms possible, even through pain and tears. This is something that you’ll be learning to accept through this difficult time. Most of us may understand the beauty and appeal of pain, but not many can accept it. Whatever we’re going through right now makes us learn and accept it, to come to terms with it. Of course, changes come along with it and we will need to learn to adapt to it, to build a “New You” as you face the upcoming challenges. Know that whatever you’re doing right now is a pre-requirement for you to achieve your dreams. You are your own world, and you can change the world as you grace the strong wind standing your way.
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Pile 4
One card to represent you: The Devil
What I’m feeling here is that you tend to have a certain level of control over some things in your life. The control here isn’t exactly pleasant, where it may be imbalanced and there can be some arguments going on. Temptations are heard as well. You know you’re stuck in some loop where you can’t escape, and you have no intention of escaping. The picture for this pile is somehow giving me Sex and The City vibes, where the neon lights (benefits, financial resources, interests) have been the focus of your sight, and this allows you to have a different perspective, or for you to see things differently from your peers.
1. Why have things happened? - Strength rx
You have lost strength, internal strength mainly. You were not surrounded by those who supported you, and your energy was depleted bit by bit as you tried to fit in. You have put yourself in a position where you depend on the actions and feelings of others, and you may have given up on your instinctive responses, not having the self-discipline and control you need. The Lion is your passion, and it’s now your enemy, threatening to destroy whatever stability and name you’ve built. Imagine a woman trying to tame the agitated lion and the two ended up in a fight, while the spectators (wrong group of friends) by the side just watched. 
2. How to stop your train of thoughts and start again from where you’re standing? - Knight of Swords
You’ll need to start taking care of yourself, listen to yourself. You’re a person who prides your intelligence, and you tend to be in your own head a lot. However, you’ve listened to the noises out there that have affected you in a negative way. Not to say that you’re supposed to go back into the state of being in your own headspace, but for you to pay attention to yourself more, to listen to the voices of your heart instead of the external noises. You’ve always been head>heart, and now you’ll need to go head<heart. You may not like how different this… new routine is, but you will also know that it has to be done, as you’ve been seeing messages of this “new path” around. Balancing out the heart voices and head nagging is important, and this is how you shall start.  You also need to remember you yourself, are the source of everything essentially you. You build yourself; you create yourself. You are not built on the words or acceptance of others. You need to remind yourself that you are already doing well, and the expectations of others are not yours to bear.
3. What to look forward to? - Ace of Wands
New beginnings come with changes. Once you’ve chosen a different voice to listen to, you’ll be able to regain energy, bit by bit, to attempt more changes in your life. Opportunities will surely come your way when you accept the positive energy around you, and it’s up to you to seize them and make them work. It’s a time for you to follow your instincts and have courage. Take action when you need them.  That aside, it’s suggested that you return to your roots as you venture through this bright explosion of good energy. Remember the importance of grounding yourself and go back to the basics from time to time. It’s not only to cleanse your heart, but also serves as a reminder of where you came from, and how you need to be in touch with your past and nature.
4. What have you left behind and grown from? - Six of Wands
What I’m seeing here is that you’ve put down the yearn and drive for fame and luxuries, and have redefined success for yourself. You’ve awakened from the past and start to feel more energised, learning to start your days in a better mood as you count your victories. More people are recognizing your achievements as they approach you with interest.  As you compare what you had and what you’re having now (or will be having in the future), you’ll be able to evaluate better and have a clearer idea of the direction you want to take next. You are warned of self-doubt and lack of confidence. You have to believe in your abilities and worth so people can trust you, so that you can trust and confide in yourself.
5. When will things start getting better? When will you get your justice? - Eight of Wands
Eight of Wands is a card that talks about movements. Once you’re moving, once you’re taking action, that’s when you’ll see things turning out different for you. You’ll start to receive things or messages that you’ve been waiting for, and it’s time for you to stop stalling. If you’re interested in someone, you will have to walk towards them and work for it. You’ll be able to attract a loving, happy, fulfilling relationship into your life as you’re no longer the old you. Remember, birds of the same kind flock together, and the same goes with people too. You attract people of your level. You want that person who’s active and charming? Be proactive in approaching them.  Your justice will come in unexpected forms, but most of it would be releasing of past hurt. There will be times where you’ll want to hug yourself to sleep as you were reminded of how things have been difficult. This is one of the healing phases where you slowly let things go. The lighter you are, the better you become. This is also because the karma of those who’ve wronged you will not be tied to you anymore.
6. Advice for you - The Star, King of Cups rx, Nine of Cups
Rebuild yourself. This probably sounds difficult and too… idealised? But this is what you need to do. The Star is there to tell you that there’s a silver lining behind every grey cloud, that you’re not broken beyond repair, and that you’re able to work yourself up to another peak. This card is an extremely gentle card, so take that message and be gentle to yourself as well. You’ll need to practise self-compassion, listen to your inner feelings, cultivate yourself and let yourself grow into your very best self. Love others by first loving yourself, don’t forget about the promises you’ve made to yourself.  Make new and healthy connections as you flourish. If you wish for them, they’ll come into your life. Learn to be content with the gifts you’re having everyday, learn to hold gratitude with what the Earth is offering you. With the amount of Cups here, try getting close to bodies of water (beach, sea, waterfall, etc). Water may be a healing element for you. Alternatively, try doing activities that are related to creativity (crafting, writing, drawing, or something that’s symbolistic) as they can be an outlet of your heart’s wants, which you can understand better from the results of your craft. Remember to stay hydrated too.
Overall energy: Justice, Eight of Swords
Justice is really your theme right now. You’ve been choosing to run away from the obvious, but it’s high time that you wake up, pull down the blinds that have been covering your eyes and to see the truth for who he is. The first action needed for every awakening is to open your eyes and acknowledge whatever that has been going wrong. Only then you’re able to take action towards a better situation. You’ll need to open up your heart and invite new changes in, welcome new beginnings in. The theme of Justice can be difficult and painful, but it’s necessary for you as you transform bit by bit, cutting down the vines that have been tying you down, severing unhealthy ties that have been binding you down (refer to The Devil). Get back your own autonomy, treat yourself right, let justice be served on who deserves them.
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