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#im not shakespeare over here im way too hot
blorbologist · 2 years
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hmmm top 5 favourite cr campaign moments? 👀 from any campaign or from ur choice
!!
This is Long because I Cannot not gush
1) The Cathedral in Campaign 2! The fucking AESTHETICS, the DRAMA, Caleb smashing the window, Yasha nearly killing Beau, Pumat Swole, the shift from glorious cathedral and stained glass down into the bowls of the building, Matt and Ashley's HDYWTDT. It's beautiful and hits so emotionally hard and I simply adore it
2) All of The Fancy and the Fooled, but lets say the party + After especially. Fancy formal dress Mighty Nein is Divine, for one! The Bjreaus jamming out to the Ruby of the Sea's performance while Beau trips balls, locking out the creepy fuck on a balcony 2 electric boogaloo, the maneuvering to get Essek out of there and confront him, and the incredible Shakespeare Liam fuckin OBrian brought when Essek was finally cornered? "You were not born with venome in your veins, you learned it"??? Hi hello?? And ofc Welcome to the Mighty Nein ;;;;;
Also, Fancy and the Fooled was the first episode I ever caught live, and I watched it with @insyndiar, so itll also be special to me for that reason <33
3) The conversation with Syldor in Heredity and Hats. Everything - Laura fuckin Bailey's incredible emotional range, "If I could pull the blood of you from my veins and give it back, I would. I want no part of you", the contrast between Vax and Vex, how Tal tests the waters for titling at intervals prior during the conversation, The Title, "So good sir, despite your relationship with her, do watch your manners", the Literal Mic Drop. The meaning of the moment too, with the Twins confronting their father and letting him have it, and how it ties into Percy and Vex's convo the night before and he found just the perfect way to support Vex in this time (and show he loves her because Oh Shit he Loves Her). And how giddy she is to bring up her new title for the rest of the episode!!
Ok this is getting hard now Fuck
4) Can I just put all the moments between Imogen and Laudna after storm nightmares here? Hell lets include those nightmares, too. The panic and fear and frustration Laura brings to the table, every time, every fucking time, the imagery, the desperation. And how Laudna is so gentle and supportive and just *there* and their dynamic is so soft and strained and im. So excited for Imogen's first nightmare after their fallout last episode because i love them but they need a dose of Angst
5) The Hag. Just. What everyone offered, how much we can speculate about those that didn't get to offer anything? Beau had me devastated, because she was regressing and Marisha was so cmearly mourning potentially losing her character,,,, Yasha going in right after Beau bc she just realized she loved her not long ago, NOTT OFFERING TO RESTART THE WAR?? FUCKER?? And of course Jester's incredible fucking power play because Laura Bailey wins at D&D
Honorable mentions:
- Saying bye to Frumpkin :c because my childhood cat was a white tomcat and he just left one day (keep your cats inside people please). I started bawling 30 minutes into the 7 hour episode boy it was A Time
- Nonagon final battle, just. Holy shit. Everything. Marine layer, Beau's double nat twenties, 'Caleb they need you', almost got a mind controlled Essek, the heals the love the fear the horror visuals ughhh
- Kaylie revealing her identity and Scanlan's reaction
- 'darling take off the mask' 👁👄👁
- the escape from the King's Cage
- inviting Essek for dinner and the hot tub
- "do you want to talk before or after"
- Sunken Tomb :))
- Jester wingmanning Yasha / Beau tripping on Yasha / The Poem
- I could beee herrrr Beacon
- Vex testing out the broom (especially when Percy freaks out over it being unsafe)
- Wall of Fire
- Three orcas chasing Avantika
- Keg <33
- when Beau and Caleb act like siblings, or Vex and Vax do <3
@fatal-blow fuck u <3
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sthim · 8 days
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MONEY#181 SHAKESPEARE… big like the fat on ya back. Twinkies shakes and snacks thirst trap like I got a knack you know I need it, got it on me I'm a snack taste the rainbow and get smacked. IS YOU HUNGRY. BEEEE IM MIGHT BE LIL DEBBIE CANT IGNORE ME JUST like I'm there everyday getting and MRI in cookies and shakes you know I can't be late I got an order for a family, it feeds 20 today I want a big beef cake so come shawty swing my way now roll up. Get drinks and roe bucks, serving up these addys I pour up... but don't forget my order, I want more of so stay late. I got these dude on me like its suppose to be me and my home girls making that money rain zooted down the ally I got a place to stay be... my bae that's what you suppose to say. wake up and post by the rental making these MS is on me like its dental. getting breakfast early on the morning posing and 1.
midi on my mind
and got something to say about how he did that. head to head, over heels, off the back, it up, to me. me vs me I gotta lay it down I'm better than kendall. what you gotta say about the spectrum. I know y'all going a notice if a b im a blessing . lord knows I think about home the way OOS stay high. you gotta recognize me for being related to the real. ain't no telling, kiss the ring I gotta chill. I know this prints chasing me faster than buyers remorse and cheap thrills now one knows the story until I told the world its inside you but for now throw some moore ONES. storage space for a family of 6 but the money stretch longer on a year difference between you and me this footage be the l I'm not taking ruining my appetite finishing a sentence or you better give me a bite lastly made classy chica I got it made wearing them out they could never lit it up the way I barbeque the beef. heated this the reason why I'm hot. kid I'm too lit to be a great debate I'm mean lol debbie. BIG LIKE THE FAT ON YA BACK Twinkies shakes and snacks thirst trap like I got a knack you know I need it got it on me I'm a snack taste the rainbow and get smacked. IS YOU HUNGRY. BITCH IM MIGHT BE x2 YOU NEED MORE THAN JUST A BAD GUY ON YOU loose screw get tattooed . on the wall and y'all on the run .. from me cc or dm meme the bro ski where y'all at. where the party at? we live baby so stay ready don't have to get ready. I gotcha wanting to roll up and state ya case like some backwoods from a cougar, scratch that dog on a tree bar king stronghold on ya girl.that's bae venting to the popo tolling tooting that block and spear word of mouth from a victim. Vic on me cuz, I know I'm fine. I look good but he know ill do him one better. all together now. better than ya average. no room for a poor review. you suckas think you tricking. hold up! give me the loot you know why im here! where the cash at im what you trying to be how its suppose to be your honor its an honor to be here. you trying to notice me i got it made wearing arm and a leg , break a leg if you don't have ya fix yet. Tidbits ribs big bitch MRI next weeks supplier thotianna can come close to this gangbang . trying bro get on the lease walking down the the block working that weight no block lol Debbie ain't shit with out ya girl period on her tongue call it looks is in the back of her jaw. he'll naw I ain't going down but last thing, weak bitch is
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ambria · 3 years
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everytime // Sirius Black
Sweetener x Marauders
play ‘everytime’ by Ariana Grande <3
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pairing: sirius black x reader
word count: 2.3k ✨
warnings: angst, fluff at the end, mentions of drinking, under-age drinking, partying, depression?, mentions of drugs and drug use, someone trying to take advantage on the drunk reader, crying? Let me know if I missed something.
This also might have a few time jumps
A/N: I wrote this in 1st person but I feel like I should make these in 3rd so that’s what I’ll start doing. But this is also my first time making a one-shot fic so cut me some slack if it’s trash. But I hope you enjoy!
I get tired of your no-shows
Taking in the warmth through my fingers I look at the door once more before glancing at the clock.
He’s late. Again
I take a deep breath to cool down my nerves and sigh. I sip the rest of my butterbeer before looking at the entrance once more and packing my stuff and walking out. I look around once more before giving up and walking back to the castle.
You get tired of my control
As I’m walking back I start to get more irritated by the step. This isn’t the first time he’s done this. Always too busy to hang out because of him with his friends or too busy because of pranks. The missed dates and the interrupted times. All for his friends. I’m clearly not a priority in his life and that has to change or I’m not going to be in it.
Walking through the castle I collect my thoughts on how I’m gonna approach this situation. But since I’m so pissed off, I’m gonna take an angry approach.
I walk up to the gryffindor common room and say the password before walking in.
As I stepped into the common room, lo and behold, the marauders spread on the couches talking loudly and laughing. Seeing that made my blood boil. As I walk over I catch the attention of the brunet,
“Y/N!!!!! Hey!!!” The Potter boy called out. I gave a weak smile. Which caught the attention of my boyfriend.
“Hey, babe.” He smiled at me. I internally roll my eyes and keep an emotionless face on. At this point all the attention from the boys is on me.
“Hey. Can we talk?” In the corner of my eye I can see Remus and James glance at each other and look worriedly at Sirius. Yeah. They know better.
“Uhh. Sure. About what?” This time I rolled my eyes. I ignore his question and grab his hand before dragging him up to his dorm.
We enter and I close the door before leaning on it. He goes and sits on the foot on his bed.
“What do you want to talk about? We were in the middle of planning.” Bouncing his knee, I can tell he’s getting impatient and just wants this to hurry up and be done with this. I get even more annoyed at this.
“What do you want to talk about? We were in the middle of planning.”- I mocked him- “This is exactly what I’m talking about! You’re always busy! Doing this and doing that!” I start to raise my voice. My face starts to heat up due to my anger. I try to calm down but it doesn’t seem to be working.
He opens his mouth to say something but I cut him off,
“Where were you today?! I was waiting for you! For our date that YOU literally planned!” His eyes widened with realization and looked at me with a guilty face. But I’m too pissed off to care.
My eyes start to water with tears of frustration but I’m nowhere near done,
“Everytime I want to hang out you’re always busy with your friends and pranks! You never have time for me anymore!” At this point tears are streaming down my face and Sirius doesn’t look that far behind.
“This is the third date you missed! Because you forgot! I’m done with being second best. Im probably not even that!” He has his head down, hands on his knees.
“I—I-I” he stutters out what I think is going to be some wack apology. But I’m done. I can’t do it anymore.
“No. I’m done.” As soon as I said those words his head shot up fast and looked at me with wide eyes.
“No-” he goes to protest but I cut him off again.
“No I can’t do this. Not anymore. This has gone on for too long. You need to fix your priorities. I hope you don’t treat another girl like this. I’m breaking up with you, Sirius.” I don’t wait for a reply and I simply walk out of the door and walk back down to the common room, wiping my tears.
They keep telling me to let go
As I make it to the common room I notice the boys are still there. They see me and go to talk but a loud sound cuts them off. Items getting thrown around, is what I guessed it to be.
We all freeze and guilt washes over me. It’s Sirius.
But I don’t really let go when I say so
I turn my head to the staircase with a sad expression before brushing it off.
I had to. I deserve better. I thought to myself.
I look over to the boys to see that they have worried but knowing expressions on their faces. I gave them weak smiles and walked away to my dorm.
I keep giving people blank stares
Drama travels fast around here at Hogwarts. So it wasn’t long until word got out that infamous Sirius Black was single again and back on the market.
My friends are starting to get worried about me because of my reaction to the breakup, or lack thereof. I know how to keep my emotions buried. I know it’s an unhealthy coping mechanism but I refuse to be sad over a boy who treated me like shit.
I’m so different when your not there
What they don’t know is that I cry myself to sleep. Everyday. I close my curtains around my bed and put a silencing spell around it and sob. For hours. It’s pretty sad.
But I keep my neutral face on for everyone else. From what I know Sirius isn’t doing much better. He’s just more open about his broken heart. Lily tells me he mopes around and doesn’t speak much anymore. Let alone prank anyone.
Everytime she tells me about him being sad it makes me want to run out the room and find him to cuddle with him and kiss him and apologize profusely for the break up.
But I remind myself that it’s not my fault and that I deserve better.
It’s like something out of Shakespeare
Because I’m really not here when you’re not there
I tried to fight our energy
It's been three months since the break up and I have developed some pretty bad habits.
I’ve secretly been drinking to numb the pain. I know it’s not healthy but I can’t seem to stop.
Once all my roommates are sleeping I drink by myself on my bed. It helped in the beginning but now I can’t stop.
I’ve perfected my fake smile so no one could tell the difference. Well one person did, but I was unaware.
I’m in a deep depression and I have no one to talk to. None of my friends know, I can’t tell them. They won’t understand.
Meanwhile,
“Pads, you can’t keep moping around. She’s moved on, you should too.”
“No, I can’t. I still love her.” Sirius said but due to him being face first on his pillow it came out muffled.
“Well then you’re going to have to work your way to get her back. Show her you’ve changed.” The werewolf suggested to his friend.
“Really?” He picks his head up to face his friends, red and puffy eyes with a hopeful expression.
They nod.
But everytime I think I’m free
As the weeks pass I start to receive notes and letters with little flowers attached to them. I know they are from Sirius but I can’t seem to open them and read. It’s too hard and I’m not ready yet.
You get high and call on the regular
Once I reach my empty dorm I run to my trunk and collect all the saved letters. I place them on my bed and chuck my shoes off before climbing on my bed while getting comfortable.
I sort the letter from how I received them. I slowly open the first one,
Dear y/n,
Looking at us now I regret a lot of things.
I don’t blame you for not seeing us together in the future.
I was horrible, but for you I am willing to change. No. I will change.
You deserve so much better and if you let me I could be that person.
But I have to fix myself in order for that to happen.
If you're willing I would love to have another chance.
forever yours,
Sirius
As I finish reading my eyes are cloudy with tears. I continue to read all of the letters.
And by the end of it I’m sobbing.
I get weak and fall like a teenager
I knew it was a bad idea to read those letters. Because after that I am ready to run back into his arms and express my love. But I can’t until I know that he’s changed.
I deserve better. I keep telling myself that.
Why, oh why does God keep bringing me back to you?
Everytime I see him now I try to avoid him. Everytime he’s in a room, I leave. Everytime class is over I run out before he gets the chance to talk to me.
Because I know if I take one look into his beautiful stormy gray eyes I will fall all over again. And that can’t happen.
I deserve better.
I get drunk, pretend that I’m over it
It’s Friday night and today is the big Gryffindor party. Being stressed with liquor and drugs is not a good combo but I haven’t been safe these past couple of months.
I’m in my dorm room getting ready. I decide on a natural glam look with a bold red lip and a black satin body con dress with some black heels.
As I’m walking down the stairs, I can hear the music blasting and the red led lights are turned on. I part from my friends and immediately head to the liquor table. As I’m walking I fail to notice the pair of eyes following my every move.
I take a plastic red cup and I fill it up with the hardest liquor I could find on the table. After downing the cup I refill it and make my way over to my friends who are currently in the corner smoking what the muggles call ‘weed’. It’s strong but it helps me relax. Who knew muggle were so helpful.
Self-destruct, show up like an idiot
About an hour into the party everyone was either high, drunk or both. Which I was. Again me with my unhealthy coping mechanisms.
I ended up dancing in the middle of the room with a huge group of people. I feel eyes on me but I’m too drunk to care at the moment.
As I’m dancing I feel someone come up behind me and grab my hips. I turn around to see a random 7th year boy. He begins to trail his hands on my body.
He leans down to whisper in my ear,
“How about we go to my down, sweetheart?” His hot breath makes a shiver run down my spine, and not in a good way.
I began to shake my head while saying no but he clearly didn’t get the message because he gripped my wrists and tried to pull me with him. But because I was too drunk I couldn’t defend myself properly.
As I continue to struggle I see a person step in front of me, glaring at the boy,
“I suggest you let her go. Now.” I heard a familiar voice, I couldn’t tell who from my drunken state. Once the person turned around a smile involuntarily appeared on my face,
“Siri! Hi!” I giggled as he guided me away from everyone.
“Hi. Let’s get you somewhere safe.” He picks me up bridal style and starts to carry me up to the boys dorms and to his room.
I yawned and cuddled up into his chest,
“I’m still mad at you.” I mumbled. He set me down on his bed and goes to his trunk to take out some clothes,
“I know.” He said, sadly. As he’s helping me I go on a mini rant,
“You know you treated me horrible. I just wanted my boyfriend but you never made time for me. You missed dates, you cancelled on me a lot. And whenever we had time together alone you had to leave early. I just wanted you to give me your love and attention. But I was never a priority. I miss you so much, Siri.” After he tucks me into his bed he kisses my forehead and responds,
“I miss you too, baby.” He goes to walk away but I grab his hand. Which makes him turn around and give me a questioning look,
“Please stay.” I pout. He smiles and climbs into the bed with me. I turn to look at him,
“Cuddles?” I ask him with puppy eyes.
“Cuddles.” I snuggle up next to him with my head on his chest and my legs bunched up with his. He puts his chin on top of my head and begins to play with my hair.
“You know, I still love you. And I’m willing to give you a second chance, Siri.” I can’t see him but I can tell he has a huge grin on his face.
“I love you too, pup. Go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.” I start to drift off but before I do fully I feel him kiss my forehead again and whisper ‘I love you’ one last time before the darkness engulfed me.
Why, oh why does God keep bringing me back to you?
****
Taglist: @blackpinkdolan
If you want to be added to my taglist for this series message me or comment under the post.
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islesnucks · 3 years
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Hi clara!😁 i’m new to hockeyblr and have been following you for a bit but i’m trying to branch out a bit more and wanted to know if you have any blog recommendations? and why? (mostly asking you for islanders blogs but if you know any avalanche blogs too that’d be great hehe) thank you xo
heyyy well first of all welcome!! here we cry a little, laugh a little, we bully them sometimes other times praise them, its a mess but it's fun.
i dont know if youre more into live blogging the games, edits, gifs, fics, stats or what, so here are some of my favorite blogs here that post isles stuff and we so happen to be mutuals lol
its gonna be long so buckle up
@sorokaaa - ali is so fun love everything she posts during games amazing content just overall she posts great clips and memes and also she's super talented her drawings are amazing, also she's the president of the ilya sorokin protection squad
@2manytabsopen - kesh is a literal sunshine her blog inst exactly like 100% hockey themed but she's the best so nice you won't regret following her and im not saying this just because were the same person in different countries ;)
@hotgirlhockey - we love mel, she does it all: live blogs games, gifs, writes, gives hockey facts in case you dont understand something, plus super nice so the whole package
@barbienoturbby - b is super nice and fun i can't count the amount of times her lb made me laugh and her gifs and edits are just *chef's kiss* so worth following her
@heybarzy - amaaaaazing writing really everything abby writes i love so if youre into reading focs go follow her plus she writes for so many different players
@mondieumat - this woman is constatky introducing me to new hot hockey players if i simp too much its 100% her fault and she enables my dilf obsession thats a good friend, plus super nice and fun, also im 99% sure shes also into avs
@hockstuff - if you ever dont understand something about hockey c has the answer, her knowledge its just infinite surprises me every day, plus also super nice and funny and friendly and i think she also likes the avs
@fallinallincurls - amazing writing wonderful incredible seriously so talented (she actually just posted a barzy fic ive been saving to read for when i have free time because i really wanna pay attention to every single word, that level of amazing writing)
@matbarzls - another amazing writer plus she live blogs isles games and its just so fun go follow caitee also she just hit 550 so let's get her to 600 now like she deserves
@calgarycanuck - im not sure if Claudia live blogs games for the isles buuuut she does write so amazing pieces for some isles players so if that's what you're looking for 100% go follow her
@ollywahlygator - looove their olly pieces since not many people write for him plus super fun during games and im almost sure they also likes the avs
@matwith1t - ok ok ok the way I fangirl whenever she posts a new barzy pieces is embarrassing buuuut I do because they are just really that amazing alli is the Shakespeare of barzy fics
@cherrylita - beautiful mood boards for like every player i know seriously dont know how luna finds so many amazing pics queen of the mood boards also super nice and friendly
@grubauerr - I think we started following each other recently but let me tell you gabbie is so fun her post during games just hilarious and she's making me an avs fan
@sorokns - also recently started following each other but she's so friendly and fun just hilarious really during games, we share our love for dilfs and ilya sorokin thats says it all and she's also making me an avs fan
@cherrymaybank - if you've been following me you probably know her we freak out over the isles together almost every single day so she's really fun and nice and also she writes what else could you need???
@rosesvioletshardy - another amazing writer (seeing a pattern here?) but apart from that super nice and friendly and also an avs fan
@iwantahockeyhimbo - just overall super nice friendly, live blogs for the isles, one of the first blogs I started following here and haven't regretted it ever since
@broadstflyers - more amazing writes, her piece gold rush its serious incredible so worth reading, go read it right now
@honeybearbarzal - and even more amazing writers that I follow, kali has some incredible pieces some of my fav barzy fics ever
(edit) I almost forgot @tysonsjosty because I still associate her with her old crosby name lol - ok taylor also another amazing writer from hockeyblr plus she writes from some players that don't get the hype they deserve here *cough* nico hischier, Phil myers and Alex lyon *cough* so go follow her for incredible fics!!
ok I probably forgot a lot of people and this basically turned into a love letter to some of my mutuals but whatever, you asked I deliver, those are some of my fav blogs here that post isles (and some avs) related stuff
I've met some other amazing people here but they dont post about the isles, however they are super nice if you want just ask and I'll give you more great people to follow
also side note: sorry if I got anything wrong like pronouns or what you actually post or your team im doing all of this from memory so big chance I forgot or wrote something wrong
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noonachronicles · 4 years
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The Malebranche Pt. 3
Im Changkyun/I.M. X Reader & Lee Jooheon X Reader
Word count: 12k
Warnings: Per usual, there is cursing. This is demon smut. It’s literally smut with demons. This is 18+. There is a lot of unprotected sex. There is come casual exhibitionism/voyeurism. Demon threesome. It gets a little rough (face f**king and choking). I’m not your mom and I’m not the fan fiction police. So just don’t have unprotected sex and don’t fuck demons. Unless you’re being responsible and understand the consequences?? IDK! I don’t want to feel like I’m being held responsible for your actions and I also don’t want to tell you what to do. So there’s your warning.
Genre: Demon AU. Modern Fantasy. Sorta Soulmate AU
A/N: For @nemesyis​. This used to be p*rn with a plot... but it seems I have now lost the plot. Now it's just some good ole fashion d in the p. Enjoy!
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‘Hell is empty, and all the devils are here’. - William Shakespeare
Your hands gripped the banister of the third floor balcony so hard your knuckles were blooming white. Down below in The Red Room the night had already begun. Patrons on the stage with the dancers, dancers on the floor in the laps of patrons. Alcohol was flowing like a river downstream. Bass pumped through the speakers and Jooheon had his rock hard erection pressed against your ass. One of his hands gripped your hip while his lips stayed attached to the curve of your neck sucking a light bruise on your skin.  
“You’re sure they can’t see anything up here?” you asked again.
“I’m sure.” he grinned against you, “If they could, would you ask me to stop?”
You tried to gulp down your urge for honesty, but it was impossible with his hands on you. The inability to lie, you’d found, was one of the few pitfalls of a demon boyfriend. “No.”
“It’s so cute that you continue to pretend to have even an ounce of modesty and restraint. Even after all this time, my little devil.”
The hand that wasn’t on your hip was massaging your exposed breasts. His fingers gently pinching your erect nipples. You weren’t completely naked. Jooheon had only dragged the top of your dress down to your hips. Your bra, you assumed, was somewhere on the ground behind the two of you.
It had been a couple months since your first night with him and you were slowly realizing that he was a fairly insatiable demon and only growing worse it seemed. It wasn’t often you could be found without his hands and mouth all over you. You weren’t one for complaining. In fact your need to be with him and be with him was growing stronger than ever and showed no signs of weakening any time soon.
Your eyes passed over the floor once more for any curious eyes as Jooheon continued to suck on every naked inch of you. No one was looking. Everyone was too busy with their own acts of sin. Though you did notice the top of a familiar head as it moved through the room to the bar. Maybe it was less the top of his head that called for your attention and more the loud gold, barocco jaquard Dolce and Gabbana robe he was wearing.
Changkyun was the only man you knew that was confident enough to pull off something so absurd. You had told him plenty of times that just because something was expensive didn’t mean it was fashionable. He rarely listened. It didn’t hurt your feelings because it wasn’t just you, he didn’t listen to anyone. Instinctually, your teeth dragged over your lip as you watched him. When he spun around and leaned against the bar you could see the white button down shirt and black pants he had under the robe. His tongue moved over his lips and you could see the silver glisten of his tongue ring. Sometimes when you noticed it you could still feel him inside of you.
He had a girl with him, he usually did, a blonde girl you knew you’d never see again. At least you’d never see her with him again anyway. Most of his conquests would come back night after night to try and get his attention once more and eventually give up when they realized he was done with them. You watched as he whispered something to her and she giggled. You rolled your eyes. Then you watched as her pretty little manicured hand moved up between his thighs until she was cupping his dick. There was no reason for it but you could feel the jealousy brewing in your gut.
“Baby,” Jooheon whispered against your ear, “Everything okay?”
“Mmhmm.” you pushed your ass back into him.
His plush lips met your skin once more and you closed your eyes for just a moment. When you opened them back up to the floor your eyes locked with Changkyun. He was smiling but it was more deviant than it was kind. He lifted his drink to his lips for a sip, never moving his eyes from yours.
“Honey…” you said quietly, “Could Kyun...would he be able…”
Jooheon rested his chin on your shoulder and looked down below. “Yes, he can see us.”
“Oh.”
“Do you like that?” he asked, you gasped as he dragged his tongue over your hot skin, “Do you want him to watch?”
“Yes.” you answered breathlessly.
Jooheon slipped his hand down your tense arm and pulled your hand from the banister. Finally looking away from Changkyun you watched as Jooheon slipped between you and the banister. There he pressed a kiss against your lips.
When he pulled back he was smiling, “If he’s going to watch, we should give him something beautiful to look at.”
“Like what?” you gulped.
“Like the face you make when you cum for me.” he grinned, his dimple digging into his cheek, and dropped to his knees.
His hand grazed your inner thighs as he reached underneath the skirt of your dress. A whimper passed your lips as his fingers met your dripping pussy. And you lunged forward against the banister when he pushed them inside of you. His head ducked under the skirt of your dress.
When your eyes made it back to the floor Changkyun was still watching. His friend for the evening had her hand in his pants now, working him properly. She was trying to get a kiss or any attention at all really, but his eyes were dark and narrowed in on you. Jaw clenched and lips tight, he looked feral.
Your mouth fell open in pleasure at the feel of Jooheon’s fingers moving inside of you, his mouth sucking on your clit. There had already been so much foreplay that you had been halfway to your orgasm  before he’d even started and his agile fingers were making quick work of the second half. Changkyun’s chest was heaving and it made him look like he was panting. His tongue swiped repeatedly over his mouth, the silver ball of his tongue ring running back and forth across his lip.  After several minutes his lips moved subtly, as if he were speaking under his breath, you could practically hear him urging you to cum. Cum for him, cum for Jooheon, for all three of you.
The blonde girl had moved her face in front of his so you lost him for a moment which you’d found deeply disappointing. Then, like he knew you needed to see him to finish, he grabbed the back of her head and pushed it to the side as he kissed her roughly. All you could see of him was his dark, starved eyes as they bore into you, urging you to completion but that was enough.
“Oh fuck.” You gasped out. Your eyes squeezed shut, thighs tensed around Jooheon’s cheeks and wrist. “That’s it...cu-cumming!”
When you were done you leaned forward against the banister to catch your breath. Having back a few of your senses you looked back down towards the bar but Changkyun and his friend were gone. Jooheon had stepped out from underneath your skirt and moved away for a moment but when he came back he had your bra in hand. It surprised you that he didn’t seem upset. You weren’t sure if it was that you thought he would be or that he should be, but part of you was a little chagrined.
“He thinks he’s in love with you.” Jooheon said quietly as he pulled the zipper of your dress up the length of your back, once you had your bra on. He was leaving soft kisses against your neck, where he’d already left his darkening splotches. Little maroon flags planted all over your body with his name on them so that everyone knew he’d staked his claim.  
“Is that so?” You laughed, “I didn’t think he liked anyone.”
“He doesn’t.” he responded, “He doesn’t like anyone except you. That’s why he assumes it’s love.”
“But you don’t think it is.”
Jooheon shrugged and stepped beside you, leaning against the bannister to get a good look at the floor below. “Demons were angels once. We talked about that, remember? Angels and demons….we’re exactly the same, only demons have fallen. We had our wings replaced with horns as a punitive mark for our sins. We still feel and want for the same things. Angels are just demons that haven’t gotten caught yet.”
“How do you really feel?” you said, amused as you turned your back on the floor below so you could be face to face with Jooheon instead.
“It’s true. Angels are just as capable of selfishness and sin. They can be just as corrupt. Just as angry and violent. They can be cowards, liars, and thieves. The difference is they tuck their more nefarious traits beneath their robes so that everyone thinks them flawless. And just how angels can be like demons, demons are capable of all the things angels are, including love.”
“So you think he does love me?”
“I think it’s been a long time since he’s loved someone. A millennium. Perhaps longer.  He is completely capable of love. However, he’s confusing the fact that he doesn’t hate you with the idea that he loves you. It’s been tearing him apart. I don’t blame him. Who wouldn’t look at you and think they were in love.” he smiled over at you, “Though I might be a little biased.”
Leaning forward you pressed a kiss against his dimple and leaned back against the banister once more. For a minute you observed Jooheon as he observed the club. He looked so neutral as he took in the crowd below. You lifted your hand to the collar of his shirt before letting your fingers slide down his chest. You thought about how it made you feel. Knowing there were other women who wanted Jooheon the way you had him. Neutral was not the emotion you felt being prominent.
“You don’t seem very upset that he thinks he’s in love with me.” you commented as casually as you could manage.  
“It upsets me that he’s hurting.” He reached down and grabbed your hand, pulling it to his mouth to kiss your palm.
“Oh.” You said quietly, he was always surprising you.
Jooheon raised a thoughtful, almost amused, eyebrow and looked over at you. “Do you think I should be more upset?”
You shrugged it off,  “I don’t know.”
“When you say I don’t seem upset, do you mean I don’t seem jealous?” he grinned. You tried to look down at your feet but he grabbed your chin between his fingers and lifted your eyes to his. His eyes were sparkling, amused with the ashamed look on your face and in your eyes. “Do you wish I was more jealous? Would you like me to be more possessive of you?”
You could taste the truth at the back of your throat. “Yes.”
Dropping his hand from your face he laughed lightly, “Do you want to know why I’m not more jealous?”
“Yes.”
He stood up straight and reached down to grab your hand. He brought your arm up to the space between you and turned your hand over, palm side up. Your eyes followed his fingers as they moved up your arm from your wrist to your elbow. He pointed to the patch of freckles. Your very own constellation.
“Do you remember I told you about Perseus and Algol?”
You nodded, “Yes.”
“They’re more than just a fancy set of freckles. They mean you’re marked.” He said. “You’re mine.”
He turned his head so you had a good view of this side of his neck. Along his hairline were five freckles that matched yours exactly.
“I’m a bad girlfriend.” You whispered as you brushed your fingertip along his freckles.
“How so?”
“I don’t know every inch of you.” You frowned, “I didn’t even know those were there.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to learn every inch.” He grinned, “I’m not going anywhere.”
“What do they mean exactly?” You asked, “The marks? Why does it mean that we share them? Are you mine as well?”
“Yes. We were destined for one another.” He shrugged, “It means I never have to worry about any other person's intentions with you because no matter what they do or how hard they try, you’ll choose me.”
“So I shouldn’t worry either?”
“You never have to worry.” He smiled, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “Even if I slept with a hundred others, I’ll always belong to you.”
You shook your head, “Okay but...please don’t ever do that.”
Jooheon laughed and wrapped his arms around you, “I won’t. You could do the same and it wouldn’t bother me either. Sex is just sex. What we share is eternal.”
Slipping your arms around his waist you rested your head on his shoulder. After a moment you let out a thoughtful hum. “I think I have an idea. I think I know how to make Changkyun feel better.”
-
It took a few weeks to figure it all out, but you and Jooheon came up with the perfect plan. Surprises were difficult with Changkyun because he was such a clever and overly suspicious demon. Not to mention you couldn’t lie to him.  Pulling one over on him was nearly impossible. It was also important to be very methodical with him. You couldn’t just come out with your proposal, he’d never agree to it outright. He would have to already be halfway in the scenario for it to work and even then both you and Jooheon had concerns that he’d be too hesitant and back out anyway. 
You knew you had to try, you knew that even if he couldn’t admit it, this was something he wanted. After diligent planning  together, there was some time needed for preparations, and then finally it was time for the execution. You were ready. Well, you were as ready as you were ever going to be.  
On the day the plan was to be set into motion it was raining. Jooheon assured you that it was a good omen and that you shouldn’t worry. The guys didn’t live at The Eighth Circle, contrary to many of the rumors that were told about them. They lived in what you thought was a surprisingly modern, luxury penthouse at the top of the tallest building in the entire city. You’d expected something more vintage, a dark cozy home that was decorated like the club. Regardless of what you expected you were always there. Actually at that point you were there so often with Jooheon that you more or less lived with them. So it was no surprise to Changkyun when he walked down to the open kitchen around midmorning and you were already sitting on one of the stools in front of the island.
As was usual, the morning paper was spread out in front of you while you sipped from your mug of hot coffee. You were in one of Jooheon’s oversized shirts and a pair of shorts so short that for a moment he thought you weren’t wearing any at all. He closed his eyes, willing himself to keep it together. Having you there was often torturous. He would have complained to Jooheon but he was also a glutton for punishment.
Moving into the kitchen he cleared his throat, “Morning.”
He noticed the slight jump you gave at his presence and smirked while he pulled a clean mug from the cupboard.
“Good morning!” You said cheerfully, though not too cheerfully.
It was a tricky balance and you were already nervous. That and you were also a bad actress. All of these winning factors put together had you feeling ready for an absolutely successful quest. That was if a graceless failure was your ultimate intention. Changkyun looked over his shoulder at you curiously but just for a moment before turning back to the coffee pot that he’d emptied into his mug, and started a new batch.
“What’s with you?” he asked, back still turned.
“Nothing, it’s just such a beautiful day and Jooheon is free all afternoon.” you sighed, “I’m just… excited.”
“Oh yeah?” he said sarcastically, pouring sugar and cream into his mug, “You two actually going to do something besides sit around here all day sucking face?”
“That’s not all we do.” you muttered into your coffee. You missed his exaggerated eye roll.
With his first cup of coffee prepared and more brewing in preparation for a second, he finally turned around to look at you. He looked from you through the double story glass curtain wall that overlooked the entire city. A look of suspicion passed over his features.  
“Beautiful day-” his face scrunched in disbelief and he looked back at you, “It looks miserable out there. You’ll definitely be stuck inside all day. And I’ll be stuck with you so... great for everyone.”
You shrugged innocently and looked back down at your paper as he leaned against the counter to shuffle through the sections you weren’t reading. Both of you stayed there quietly, pretending to be reading your bits of paper. In reality you were trying to think of ways to make yourself more appealing. Trying not to come off as awkward you attempted to show off the length of your neck, you sucked on your bottom lip for a bit, and even stretched your arms out releasing a quiet, albeit overly sexual moan. Changkyun clenched his jaw as he stared down at the paper trying his best not to imagine taking you over the counter.
Lucky for both of you Jooheon made his way happily down the stairs. “My two favorite people!”
Changkyun rolled his eyes so hard his head rolled back with them and he groaned loudly. Ignoring his incredibly common reaction, Jooheon made his way to you like a magnet, wrapping his arms around you and planting a kiss against your mouth.  
“I hate it here.” Changkyun muttered to himself.
“If you actually hated it, you’d have left by now.” Jooheon shot back.
Changkyun rolled his eyes again, though less dramatic. “What are you all dressed up for?”
“I have to go out for a bit for business. Finalizing some paperwork details with the new brokerage company.”
“That’s weird. Why would you do it today?” Changkyun turned to prepare his second coffee of the morning, “It’s your day off. Just have them come to the club tomorrow night and do it there.”  
“I just want to get it over with. Shouldn’t take more than an hour.” Jooheon shrugged. “Take good care of my girl for me.”
Turning around to look at the two of you he scoffed, “Yeah, sure.”
“I’ll be back in a bit.” Jooheon said quietly and left a kiss against your temple.
Changkyun faux gagged, and turned back around to finish getting his second coffee ready. After you heard the click of the front door you waited for the right moment. It was quiet between the two of you again. Just the sound of you sipping coffee, Changkyun’s silver spoon clinking against his ceramic mug as he stirred his drink, and the ticking of the clock on the wall. Once you figured a sufficient amount of time had passed you looked up from the paper you were reading. Changkyun had been leaning back against the counter, head tilted slightly as he watched you. When you caught him staring he didn’t even bother to look away.
“What?” you blushed.
He shrugged, “You want something from me.”
“What?” you scoffed, “What makes you think that?”
“I am a demon.” he reminded you, “I always know when someone wants something. Call it a trick of the trade.”
You let out a slow breath, what better time than now. “Okay, yeah. I want your opinion on something.”
Changkyun stepped forward towards the island and leaned against the counter on his elbows. “I am very opinionated.”
He wouldn’t take his eyes off of you and honestly it was making your blood heat up in your veins already. You wanted to look away from him but you knew you had to at least match his level of control and confidence. Jooheon had told you it was the only way this would work.
“I wanted to do something for Jooheon, a sort of thank you for how amazing the last  couple of months have been.”
He groaned, not shying away from letting you know how gross he thought it was. “You want me to tell you what to get your boyfriend?”
“No,” you shook your head, “I already have an idea. I just wanted your opinion on if you think he’ll like it.”
“Okay,” he sighed, “What is it?”
“It’s um...I can’t really explain it. I’d have to show it to you.” you dragged your teeth over your lip, “Do you have some time now?”
He looked you over for a long moment. You could tell he didn’t really want to, but you also knew he had a soft spot for you and that’s why there was any conflict in his decision at all. With a low groan he nodded, “Why not?”
Your face lit up with a smile. “Give me five minutes  and then meet me in the library?”
Not waiting for a response you hurried out of the kitchen and back up the stairs to the bedrooms. Changkyun was admittedly curious about your plan as he waited the five minutes. When he went down the hall to the office space they used as a library, he only found himself that much more intrigued. The curtains were drawn, which they never were. Only the smaller lamps were turned on, not the overhead lighting, and each one had been draped in red and purple fabrics. You had moved the furniture so that the floor was cleared save for a single, armless sitting chair in the center of the room. When he walked inside he found a card on the seat of the chair that said simply for him to sit. He could already feel his pulse quicken in anticipation.
“Ready?” your voice came from somewhere outside of the room.
“I assume so.” he called out and took a deep breath.
The speakers hidden around the room filled the air with a slow tempo rock song. He watched as you slipped into the room and slid the doors shut before turning around to face him. He inhaled deeply at the sight. You changed into one of Jooheon’s button down shirts over your too short shorts. A pair of black thigh high stockings accentuated your legs, and a pair of stilettos adorned your feet. Your hair was on the top of your head in what appeared to be a thoughtless bun, but was what had taken you most of the five minutes you were upstairs.
“Wh-what is this?” he stuttered out.
“Is it too much already?” you asked squirming slightly,  your thighs rubbing together. He almost choked, inhaling too sharply at the view. “I thought the heels were too much, but the stockings feel silly without them. And I would have taken them off but I wanted to make sure that there was enough to take off to keep it interesting, you know?”
“You’re going to dance for him?” Changkyun asked as his mouth started to water more with each step you took towards him. “You’re going to strip?”
“Is it stupid? I know he sees this kind of thing all the time at work, but do you think he’ll like it?” you asked
“Can’t imagine that he’d hate it.” he said with a tense exhale.
“Can I show you some of the stuff the girls at the club showed me?” you asked, “You can tell me if it’s good and what I should change?”
“He did say to take good care of you.” he sighed, “What’s under the shirt?”
“That comes later, Kyunnie.” you grinned as he flushed at the nickname, and stepped around the chair behind him.
You placed your hands on his biceps and dragged your fingers up to his shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze before slipping your hands down his chest. Your lips left little kisses against his neck while you dragged your hands back up his chest enough to unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt.
“I thought we were undressing you.” he said with a gulp.
Pulling his earlobe between your teeth you hissed out a shush and pulled open the red satin dress shirt to reveal his collarbone and shoulders. His eyes fluttered closed as you moved your mouth over his skin. You dragged your teeth over his delicate features before sucking them between your soft lips.
“You’re so sweet, Kyunnie.” you whispered against his ear before pulling away. Your hair brushed against his cheek gently and he inhaled the scent of your shampoo.
Walking around to the front of him you danced slowly to the music. He watched as you hooked your thumbs into the elastic of your shorts and tugged them down little by little with each sway of your hips. As you bent over to step out of the shorts the shirt you were wearing lifted up over your ass and slipped down your back revealing the black lace garter belt you were wearing to hold up your stockings. Without really thinking he reached out and his  fingers ghosted over the matching lace panties you were wearing.
“Are you peeking?” you asked looking back at him with a grin.
Taking your grin as a challenge he moved his hand so he was cupping your ass and he gave it a squeeze. “Just making sure it’s all up to par for our Honey.”
“Should I keep the stockings on or lose them?” you asked standing back up and turning to face him.
“Keep.” he said quickly, “And the shoes.”
With a small nod you stepped in front of  his legs. Pressing your leg between his knees forced his legs open. You moved between them and turned around. Wrapping your hands tight around his thighs you sat in his lap and loosened your hips to the beat of the music that was still playing in the background.
“Is this okay?” You asked sweetly leaning back against his chest, back arched just enough that he had a perfect view down your open shirt.
“It would be better like this…” he said moving his arms around your front. You watched as his fingers made quick work of the few buttons you had done up and he helped you shimmy out of the shirt completely before tossing it to the ground.
“Oh.” You moaned as he moved his hands up your bare torso, his fingers slipped beneath your lace bra and brushed against your nipple. “I think I like that better too.”
Reaching behind you, you slipped your hand behind his neck. He dropped his head down and dragged his teeth over your bare shoulder like you’d done to him earlier.
“What if I did this? Do you think he’ll like this?” You asked, rolling your hips back, ass pressing hard into his lap.
With one last rough squeeze of your breasts he dropped his hands to your hips and he pulled you even deeper, until you felt his building erection rub beneath you, “Push deeper. Can you feel that?”
Your nose pressed into his neck as you gasped, “Yes.”
“Do it like that. Try again.” He demanded.
“Like this?” You asked pressing hard into his lap once more and giving your hips a swirl.
“Fuck.” He cleared his throat, “Yeah. He’ll like that.”
“I was going to try this next…” you said before sliding your body down between his thighs. Your head rested on his lap, neck elongated as you looked up at him. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you to save his lost soul. Then you swirled around so that you were knelt on the ground in front of him.
Eyes wide and innocent, you looked up at him. Your innocence was his favorite lie. He looked down at you wordlessly, waiting for your next move. You placed your hands on his knees and moved them slowly up his black denim clad thighs until they met in the middle where you cupped his bulge in your palms. His dark eyes locked with yours and he wrapped his fingers around your hands. You watched his stoic face as he used your hands to massage himself. After a minute he moved his hands down around your wrists and pulled you up to your feet.
“Try this, he’ll like it.” hands gripping your hips he pulled you forward so that you had one leg on either side of his and he directed you to sit, straddling one single muscular thigh. “Do you know what I want you to do?”
You nodded.
“Then do it.”
With a lick of your lips you started to move your hips back and forth, rubbing yourself against his leg. Your mouth fell open as he started to flex the muscle beneath you. He sat up straight in the chair as you continued grinding down on him. His hands moved up your side and around to the back where he unhooked your bra before dragging it off your shoulders. He pulled you closer wrapping his mouth around one of your breasts.
“Fuck, Kyunnie.” you gasped as he kept himself latched onto your sensitive skin.
One of his hands gripped your hip roughly making sure you didn’t stop what you were doing. Your hands slipped over his shoulder and up into his hair. You tugged at his black locks as you continued to ride his flexing thigh. His hand moved down to your lace covered leg and he squeezed hard.
“Do you want more?” he mumbled against your breast.
“Yes,” You begged instantly, “Please.”
He moved his hand between your tense thighs and brushed his fingers against your clothed cunt. Your hips pumped harder, gaining friction from his hand gave you a renewed energy. He wasn’t quite finished with you yet, moving his abused fingers one step further and slipping them into your panties and then inside of you. Your mouth fell open in a gasp and he captured your bottom lip between his teeth and then let it go.
“Make yourself cum.” he said locking eyes with you.  
You had all the tools you needed to do what you were told. Your hips bucked wildly against his hand and his thigh. Fingers still twisted in his hair you pulled him closer and pressed your mouth to his. He let your tongue into his mouth and you groaned in delight at the feel of his tongue ring massaging you. It wasn’t hard for you to find your climax, you’d been so ready for it since the kitchen earlier. With his digits pumping inside of you, and your clit brushing against the heel of his hand,  you released a gush of orgasm out onto his thigh. Spent,  you leaned your head forward to rest against his shoulder for a moment.
“Do you think he’ll like it?” You asked quietly, thighs still trembling around his wrist.
He pulled his fingers from you slowly, and lifted them to your lips so you could take them into your mouth. “Do I think he’ll like having you nearly naked, humping his thigh, fucking your self on his fingers like a filthy whore?”
“Yes.” You moaned out your reply.
He  looked away from you, as if it was suddenly excruciating to be near you. “If he doesn’t there’s something wrong with him, not you.”
“What do you think he’ll do with me then?” You asked, moving your hands over his chest, his heart was pounding under your touch. “What would you want to do with me, Kyunnie?”
He spread his hands out over your bare back pulling you close enough to get his mouth on you. He sucked tiny splotches all over your skin before pulling back.
It wasn’t fair, he thought. All he had in this world was Jooheon and suddenly Jooheon had you and he was alone. He wished the roles were reversed. He wished you were his. It was agonizing for him to know that you weren’t and never would be. That he was going to be alone forever and have to watch the two of you smother one another with disgusting love in the meantime.
“I’d want to do exactly what I’m thinking about doing now.” muttered against your chest.
“Which is?” Jooheon’s voice came from the entrance of the room.
Changkyun looked over your shoulder at Jooheon and then back to you in a panic, “What is this?”
“Does it matter?” Jooheon asked, coming into the room. “What are you thinking about doing with her?”
With a gulp, Changkyun let himself think for a moment before answering, deciding to just be honest. “I’m thinking about fucking her full of gratitude.”
Jooheon raised an eyebrow, “Well?”
“Well what?” Changkyun asked unsure of what was going on but keeping his grip on your hips regardless.
“It’s rude to make her wait for her gift.”
“Why are you doing this?” Changkyun asked Jooheon.
He shrugged casually, “Because she asked nicely.”
Changkyun finally looked back at you, surprise clear on his face, “You asked for this?”
You nodded, “I missed you. I want you.”
“I- well…”
“Don’t you want me too? Haven’t you been thinking about me? Watching me…” you asked and chewed on your lip. “Just tell me how much you want me, Kyunnie.”
Changkyun lifted his hand to your chin and squeezed. He locked eyes with you, searching for something. “Tell me the truth.”
“I want you. And I want you to want me back.” you said honestly. “It makes me feel good.”
“You’re not a very good girl are you?”
“No. I’m selfish and I’m greedy. I want Jooheon,” you turned your head up to him as he stepped behind you and he cupped your face in his hand before dropping his mouth to yours for a sloppy wet kiss. Your hips started to grind once more on Changkyun’s thigh as Jooheon’s tongue massaged your own. When he pulled back you turned back to face Changkyun, “And I want you too.”
Leaning forward you captured his lips between yours for a kiss. He fell into the kiss for just a moment before pulling away to look up at Jooheon, “You’re okay with this? She’s bound to you.”
“I’m okay with it because she’s bound to me.” Jooheon grinned, “One day you’ll find it for yourself and you’ll understand. I hate to see you suffer in the meantime. So as long as she wants to, I’ll share.”
“What do you think, Kyunnie?” you asked sweetly, but he was sure he could hear poison somewhere buried in your voice, “Would you like that?”
He shrugged, “It wouldn’t exactly be the most fucked up thing I’ve ever done.”
“Good.” you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his nose before standing up.
Jooheon wrapped his arm around your waist and the both of you looked over your shoulders. With a smile you reached your hand out to Changkyun and after a moment of genuine consideration he took it. The three of you made your way upstairs to the bedroom you and Jooheon shared. It was quiet but not uncomfortable. You were starting to feel a real buzz under your skin as you stepped into the room. Changkyun watched as Jooheon pulled you into his arms. He kissed you rough and deep until you were moaning, your thigh trying to inch its way up his leg.
But he pushed you off of him, “Do whatever he says.”  
You gently kissed each of his dimpled cheeks and then his lips one more. “You’re sure this is okay?”
“Don’t worry about me.” He said giving you one more kiss before pushing your hip gently towards Changkyun.
He looked so shy standing there waiting for you. He was looking to the side, toward the window, and he was holding his hands in front of him. It was a little strange seeing him drop his confident act. It was also obvious that as hard as he pretended not to , he had a lot of respect for Jooheon and seemed almost uncomfortable about using you.
“Kyunnie…” you stepped over to him and lifted your hand up to his neck, “Do you want this? It’s okay if you don’t.”
He let his forehead rest against yours, quiet when he whispered, “I want you.”
“Come.”
Taking his hands you brought him towards the bed where you sunk down into the mattress. Changkyun sat beside you, and he placed his hand on your knee. You watched his fingers as they slowly inched up your thigh until they were lightly pressed against the soaked crotch of your panties. He smiled. He’d done that.
“Does he give you everything you want?” Changkyun asked, leaning in to you with a soft kiss. “Or does he tease you like I would?”
“He gives me everything I want.” You whispered a little shakily as you felt him starting to take back control.
“I should have figured.” He scoffed, “No wonder you’re such a greedy brat. Are you even capable of doing anything for anyone other than yourself?”
“Yes.”
He raised an eyebrow, “Prove it.”
Cupping his neck with your hand you pulled him in for a quick kiss before moving off the bed. With your hands on his knees you pushed his legs open and moved yourself between them. He leaned back, heavy lidded eyes boring down into you. You were absolutely vibrating with excitement. This wasn’t something you’d gotten to do with him last time. He’d done so much for you and hadn’t given you the chance to return the favor. You’d have to repay him now.
Your hands were quick to undo the button on his jeans. He lifted his hips just enough that you could drag them down his legs, leaving him in just his black boxer briefs and red satin shirt that was still falling open from when you’d unbuttoned it. His cock was already fully erect, you suspected it probably had been for a while now. Pulling the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs down you watched dick snap up, smacking against his abdomen. His head was angry and red, leaking precum like a sieve.  Your tongue ran over your lips as you took in the vision.  
A shiver moved down his spine as you ran your tongue softly around his tip. Your lips left sweet, gentle kisses down his shaft to the base and then you pressed your tongue against the vein on the underside before dragging it back to the head. He was about to make a snarky comment, demand better from you, but before he could you plunged yourself down onto his cock.
His eyes went wide in shock  but he quickly shook himself out of it. He looked up at Jooheon who was leaning against a tall dresser, watching the two of you very diligently. “...she do this a lot?”
Jooheon answered with only a smug smirk. Just given the sheer size of him it had been difficult for you in the beginning, but he’d trained you well and was proud of his girl. A little annoyed with the lack of attention you gave him a taste of teeth. A gentle drag over his cock as you pulled up. Changkyuns gaze snapped back to you at the feel. You were pleased and he could see it written all over your face.
“Try that shit again.” he muttered darkly.
Happily playing the role of the brat you did exactly that. Looking up to meet his eyes, you made it a point to bare your teeth as you dragged them once again along his sensitive shaft. It was clear by the way he trembled beneath your touch that he liked it despite the attitude he was giving you. What he didn’t like was that you seemed to still think you were in control.
“Angel thinks she’s funny?” he asked, glaring down at you and you matched his gaze, your eyes dancing with amusement.
The suck job had been leisurely so far and you hadn’t taken him all the way yet. You were almost there but you’d still been using your hand around the base. Done playing he grabbed the messy bun at the back of your head in his fist and without any warning slammed your face down on his dick. You gagged harshly around him, nearly throwing up, but you steadied yourself quickly. Jooheon had pushed himself off of the dresser at the action, ready to step in but you held up a hand to him letting him know it was okay. Changkyun did it again and again, lifting his hips to meet your face.
He sounded like a feral animal, grunting and growling while he fucked your face. The only other sound in the room was a disgustingly lewd and wet gurgling sound coming from the back of your throat. Knowing you were okay, Jooheon allowed himself to enjoy the sound in juxtaposition with the gentle taps of raindrops on the window beside him.  
“I’m gonna fucking cum,” he gasped, and looked to Jooheon as if for advice.
Understanding the unasked question he shrugged, “Ask her.”
He eased off a little and looked down at you, “How do you want me?”
You let him pop out of your mouth, wiped the drool from your lips, and said, “Cum in my mouth.”
Completely mesmerized he watched as you dropped your mouth back onto him. He wasn’t fucking your mouth any more, but you went just as hard as if he had been. His mouth had fallen open but he couldn’t think of a thing to say, or a noise to make. Just little gasps of air escaped him. You knew he was close when his thighs clenched beneath your palms. Then his whole body stalled, save for a gentle pulsing of his hips as he unloaded down your throat and filled your mouth. You choked a little at the start but took him well in the end.
Honestly, a little spent, he leaned back on the mattress and looked down at you as you eased back onto your heels and swallowed. You were sure you looked like a mess. You thought to yourself, offhand, that you were glad that you hadn’t done your makeup. Just a little waterproof mascara and a bold red lipstick that was now staining rings around Changkyuns softened dick. Reaching your hand up, you went to wipe the tears from your cheeks but Changkyun bolted upright.
“Wait.” he said urgently, grabbing your wrists.
Frozen in place you waited to see what he wanted next. Loosening his grip on your wrists he dropped your hands into your lap. You watched him as his eyes moved over the mess that he’d made. Strands of hair had been tugged out of an already sloppy bun, making it look like you’d just stood in the center of a tornado. Tears streaked your cheeks, a few stragglers still clung to your lashes. Your mouth was red and your lips swollen. Still Changkyun looked at you like you were the Mona Lisa. His hands cupped your cheeks, brushing away the tears with his thumbs, and he leaned in to kiss you softly. Softer than he’d kissed you any of the other times his lips had met yours.  
He kissed you for a long minute, until his tongue had tasted every inch of your mouth and he pulled back with a sigh, “You’re really beautiful.”
You flushed at the intimate way he said the words. “Thanks…”
Jooheon was biting his bottom lip quite nervously. Changkyun cleared his throat, forcing himself back into the hardened character he often portrayed. “Go get Jooheon. But…don’t speak to him.”
Standing up you groaned at the ache in your knees, but shuffled over to Jooheon regardless. There were suddenly so many things you wanted to say to him, there were questions you’d wanted to ask. Mostly, was he still okay. He gave you a simple, small smile. And you took his hand, walking him back to the bed.
“Good.” Changkyun had been standing up, his pants pulled back up and hanging loose on his hips. He moved his hand to gesture towards the edge of the bed and looked to Jooheon, “Sit. Please.”
“What’s next?” you asked quietly.
“I want you to bend over. Hands on his thighs.” Changkyun commanded.
Already absolutely soaked, the sight of Jooheon sitting on the bed propped up with his hands just slightly behind him could have been enough to get you all the way off. As you thought about it, you were pretty sure you’d pictured him just like that before to jerk off. You couldn’t help it where he was concerned. Certain there was no sexier creature than him. His chest was rising and falling steady as he locked eyes with you, black eyes. Evil eyes that reached through your body and twisted your insides. The act of his eyes meeting yours alone made you moan out and you quickly bit your lip as he smirked like the cocky demon that he had turned out to be.
Still biting your lip, you did as you were told and bent at the waist in front of him. Your fingers wrapped around his thick, meaty thighs and you squeezed. All you could think about was getting on your knees and pulling him into your mouth the way he liked, the way you had just done with Changkyun. With a lick of your lips, you leaned forward for a kiss. His plump, pink lips were too close not to.
Before you could get your lips to his, Changkyun fisted your hair in his hand and pulled your head back so roughly you cried out in genuine pain.
“Don’t kiss him.” He hissed against your neck, ignoring your pained wince. “Don’t speak to him. As far as you're concerned he’s not even there.”
One hand still clutching your hair, the other grabbed your hip. His fingers dug deep into the skin, and pulled you back just enough that you could feel his rock hard dick pressed against your ass.
“Say you understand.” He growled. “This is my turn.”
“It’s just you and me, Kyun.” Eyes still locked on Jooheon, you whimpered as he rolled his hips into you from behind, “It’s just you, baby.”
His lips pressed against the skin of your shoulder with a satisfied hum, “Good. Good girl.”
Much more gently, kindly, he loosened his grip from your hair. His palm moved to the side until it was pressed against your cheek. Turning your face to his, he latched onto your mouth with his lips in an aggressive kiss. His tongue shoving into your mouth with no request, only staking its claim on you. You moaned, loud and deep, against the kiss as he explored.
“Very good.” He said as he pulled back, licking his lips as you gasped out a few breaths. He turned your head back to Jooheon, “Now, only think of me.”
It was then he used his foot to spread your legs until he was happy with your openness. For a moment you stood there, unsure of what he was doing, only feeling his hands palming your ass roughly. Then, just before you were ready to turn your head and complain with impatience, you felt his tongue brush a thick wet stripe along your cunt.
“F-Fuck.” You gasped at the feel as he did it again.
He’d knelt behind you, wanting to devour you. You were more than ready enough to take him, wet and waiting. He didn’t have to go down on you, but preparing you wasn’t the point. He’d missed the taste of you. He missed the soft, warm feel of your pussy surrounding his tongue. He wanted to prove to you and to him he could make you cum again, just like he had the first time.
“Yes...Oh, fuck.” You moaned, you rolled back against his mouth. “It feels so good, baby. You know just what I want, Kyunnie.”
Something about Jooheon being face to face with you as the coils tightened in your gut from another man’s ministrations made the whole thing infinitely hotter. Your skin was burning, moist with sweat already and you hadn’t even been fucked yet. His jaw clenched with every moan, groan, whimper, and whisper that oozed from your mouth.
“Yeah, yes. Yes yes yes. I’m gonna cum.” You whispered sweetly after a few minutes of his tongue dipping inside of you, then pulling out and brushing against your clit. Your nails were digging into the flesh on Jooheon’s thighs so deep that if it weren’t for the protection of his jeans, beads of blood would have gathered on the skin.
“Who…” Changkyun broke away from you for just long enough to ask, “who’s making you cum? Who are you cumming for?”
Keeping your eyes locked on Jooheon you grinned, something sinister making its way through you. “You, Changkyun, I’m cumming for you. Only you.”
A low growl emitted from deep in Jooheon’s chest and you watched his tongue run roughly against the inside of his bottom lip with rage. Finally, you thought, a little jealousy on his part. There was a spark of a flame in your eyes as you leaned forward, not touching him or kissing him, just your lips hovering over his ear as you gasped and moaned. Your hot breath cascading over his skin.
With your ear at his mouth as well he muttered an angered, “You’ll regret this.”
You didn’t care for his threat, too busy circling your orgasm as Changkyun circled your clit with his tongue. Willing to risk getting caught breaking the rules you dragged your bottom lip against Jooheon’s cheek. You were so close, hanging on by a thin strand of hair… and he pulled away. You felt you should have known better than to expect to come easy with him.
“Asshole.” muttered under your breath, but he heard you anyway.
“You’re the one that missed me, angel.” He grinned, rubbing his still hard cock between your thighs. Your slick sex coating him with ease.
You snapped your head to look over your shoulder at him with a glare. Frustrated at his denial you spat out, “If you didn’t miss me, you don’t get to fuck me.”
“Shut up, you little brat.” He sneered and landed a hard smack against your bare ass. “I’ve already admitted I did. Don’t be so sensitive.”
“I thought that’s how you liked me.” You grinned. With a chuckle he slapped you again making you jolt.
“Look ahead.” He commanded, “And remind me...who’s here?”
Your tongue brushed over your lip as you locked eyes with Jooheon once more. “Me and you, Kyunnie. Just me and you.”
“Good.” he muttered before easing inside of you with a wet squelch, and a hiss through his teeth.
Hands gripping your hips roughly he drilled into you, using you like a battering ram into Jooheon’s chest.
“Fuck.” Your mouth dropping open in pleasure, “Oh, your cock… fuck me.”
After several minutes he slowed his pace, hands running up your back lightly. Your body trembled beneath him. The gentle touch of his fingers leaving prickles all over your skin. He moved his hands back down in the same manner until he was holding your hips again.
“Just between the two of us,” he said quietly, “Do you love my cock inside of you?”
“Yes,” you whined as he pushed himself so deep he disappeared inside of you completely. “I love it so much.”
“Do you think Jooheon would love to see it?” He asked, “Do you think he’d like to see me stuffed balls deep in your wet little cunt?”
Looking at Jooheon you watched him snarl at the question. “No.”
“Do you think he likes to watch you cum?”
“Yes,” you groaned.
“But you don’t think he’d like to watch you cum for me?” You shook your head, and he laughed. “Good.”
As if it was a challenge he picked up his pace. Jooheon’s shoulder dug into your chest with every thrust as he kept his hands to himself and you kept yours wrapped around his thighs. Your cheek rubbed gently against the side of his head and his soft hair. It was, in a way, comforting.
“Do you love him?” Changkyun asked quietly. “Do you love Jooheon?”
With a gulp you leaned back and looked at Jooheon. His eyes were different now, normal. They were softer, big and brown and eager as he looked at you, waiting for your answer.
“Why do you hesitate?” Changkyun asked, stilling for a moment inside of you. “Answer me.”
“We haven’t said it yet.” You mumbled, “We haven’t said it to each other.”
The slower pace he took was more agonizing than the faster one. Each thrust inside of you meant the head of his cock rubbing against your gspot. You couldn’t believe this was the conversation you were having when you were seconds from gushing around him.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” You lifted one of your hands to cup Jooheon’s neck.
“If he was here what would you say?” Changkyun asked, “Say it like you’d say it to him.”
Your eyes were glistening as you looked at his ethereal face and whispered, “I love you.. I love you. I love you.”
A confession for every thrust Changkyun made. Jooheon pressed his forehead to yours, lifting a hand to cup around your neck as well.
Changkyun laughed at the act of pure intimacy. “At least help her cum, you don’t have to be such a monster.”
Jooheon’s eyes flickered to Changkyun and then he moved his free hand between the two of you. The pad of his thumb rubbed heavy circles against your clit. You cried out in an overstimulated agony, vibrating and pulsing around Changkyun until he was cumming too. He held your hips for a moment to catch his breath.
As Changkyun gently eased himself out of you and stepped away, Jooheon brushed his thumb over your lips and you pressed a kiss to it.
He smiled, his cheek dimpling deeply, “I love you.”
Looking over your shoulder you watched as Changkyun grabbed his clothes off the floor. “Where are you going?”
“Leaving, so you two can do whatever weak shit couples do.”
“Stay.” You grinned and held out your hand to him, “I’m not done with you just yet.”
He scoffed in disbelief, “What?”
“Oh, come on.” You’d turned and sat down on Jooheon’s lap. Grinning over at him you said, “I know you fuck a lot of women, but we both know I’m your favorite.”
Jooheon was peeking over your shoulder at Changkyun, his thumbs playing with the straps of your garterbelt. He watched the younger man as he shuffled his feet uncomfortably, quietly, against the floor. He stared at the shirt in his hands, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
“No...he doesn’t.” Jooheon said with a genuine surprise.
Both you and Changkyun looked at him. You looked at him curiously, where Changkyun was more flabbergasted.
“Doesn’t what?” you asked, “Know that I’m his favorite?”
“Doesn’t fuck a lot of women.” Jooheon sounded confident in the accusation, “I don’t actually think he’s fucked anyone since you.”
You choked out a genuine laugh, “Honey… he’s with a new skank every night. We often hear his conquests through the walls.”
Jooheon looked only at Changkyun. “They might fuck around, handjobs and kissing...but he doesn’t fuck them. Do you?”
Looking between the two of them you felt stunned, and then you realized that Changkyun wasn’t denying any of it. He just stood there, eyes on the ground, jaw clenched.
“Kyun?”
He shook himself out of it and looked up at you. “What? What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing.” you said quietly. “Come here…”
“No, see this is why this was a bad idea. This is why I shouldn’t have done it.” he shook his head, angry with himself. “I don’t need you to look at me all sad like that. I didn’t need some pity fuck.”
You stood up then and crossed the floor to where he stood. Grabbing his hand you lifted it so he was cupping your cheek. “You know I can’t lie with your hands on me. Right?”
He nodded, a gulp moving down his throat.
“No one here is pity fucking anyone. I told you that I wanted you and I meant it. Now you’re going to come with me back to the bed so that both of you can use me until each of us is satisfied.” you looked at him sternly. “Have I made myself clear?”
He nodded once more and you led him back to the bed and Jooheon. With a bit of renewed pep you bounced onto the mattress and crawled up to the head of the bed. Jooheon looked over at you with a strange sense of adoration, proud of the way you took control and grateful for how good you were while simultaneously being quite deviant.
“If you ask me both of you are far too dressed.” you tutted looking at the pair, “Feel free to get naked and join me at any time, my sexy little demons.”
With his shirt in his hands and pants already falling off his hips, Changkyun climbed up next to you first. You cupped his face with both hands and started to kiss him. His tongue slipped into your mouth and massaged your own, his hand gently placed on your hip. There was a dip in the mattress on your other side and you felt Jooheon’s soft fingers start to drag up your inner thigh. You turned then and grabbed his plump cheeks in your palms and kissed him too.
While you moaned into Jooheon’s mouth, his fingers rubbing circles over your wrecked lace panties, Changkyun dipped his head down, sucking your tit into his mouth. His hand lifted to the other one, and his fingers began to work your nipple until it was pert. You sighed happily as you sunk down into the plush pillows.
“Yes…” you let out a soft chuckle, “This is nice. This is what I wanted.”
Jooheon laughed against your neck before sucking the skin back between his lips. He also slipped two long agile fingers inside of your dripping cunt. He raised a surprised eyebrow, not expecting how tightly you squeezed around him. Changkyun kept his mouth and hands focused on your breasts. You felt absolutely euphoric with one arm around Jooheons’ shoulder and your free hand massaging Changkyuns head. With the extra stimulation it took just a few minutes before you were a gushing mess of orgasm.
You watched as Jooheon pulled away, moving down between your legs. Taking the cue, Changkyun moved up from your chest. He sucked your aching, swollen bottom lip between his in a kiss. His hand slipped over your chest, until it was resting gently against your throat. Jooheon tore the lacy panties you were wearing from your body roughly. Leaving you in just the garter belt and stockings. Gripping your legs he tugged you down the mattress until your legs were on either side of his hips and your back was flat on the mattress. Changkyun stayed where he had been which meant he was hovering over your face now, and his hand was pressed a little harder against your throat because you’d been dragged into it.
You let out something between a moan and a gasp as Jooheon sunk into your, at this point, well used pussy. He had such a girth that even though you were soaked and had already been fucked, there was a satisfying stretch to having him inside of you. You reached your hand down around Changkyun to give him a nice tug. The bed groaned with each and every thrust from Jooheon. He wasn’t always this rough on you, but you knew you had to be punished at least a little for purposely getting him jealous. He pistoned into you fast and hard.
You’d have cried out or screamed for him but Changkyun had slowly been tightening his grip on your throat until you couldn’t so much as breathe. Your mouth had fallen open and he dipped his tongue into your mouth playfully, just barely tasting you, licking your tongue. He did it a few more times until your tongue reached desperately out for his. He grinned down at you, watching your face carefully to make sure you were okay.
“Fuck, baby.” Jooheon groaned, his hands gripped on your thighs so tight it felt like he was rubbing a burn into them. “I’m gonna cum so hard.”
“Aw,” Changkyun cooed mischievously. “You’re gonna like that aren’t you? Your cunt feels so good, I bet he blasts all the way into your throat. Such a good slut.”
You could barely even whimper a response, your knees squeezing around Jooheons’ hips.
Jooheon dropped his hand down and circled your overstimulated clit with his thumb. “Whose pussy is this?”
You would have screamed, you wanted to cry out from the pain and pleasure of it all. Instead your toes curled and tears streaked your cheeks.
“I asked you a question,” he said firmly. You knew he knew why you didn’t respond but he asked again, “Who does this pussy belong to? Say it!”
With an evil smirk Changkyun released your throat and you gasped for air, your next orgasm hit you almost as soon as the fresh air hit your lungs.
“It’s your pussy!” you screamed, “Fuck! It’s yours, Jooheon! I’m yours! My pussy is yours! It’s yours! It’s yours...it’s yours. It’s…”
He’d already stilled inside of you with his orgasm and come down from it, while your body continued to jerk beneath him. You imagined this was your life now. Uncontrollable orgasmic tremors. Changkyun left sweet soft kisses along the red marks along your neck as you came down. Jooheon rubbed his hands over your thighs to ease the muscles. Once your breathing calmed down he grinned down at you.
“You okay?”
You nodded, “Am I dead? Did I die?”
Changkyun chuckled next to your ear and Jooheon laughed outright.
“No, baby, you’re not dead.”
“Are you satisfied now?” Changkyun asked, brushing the hair from your face. You shook your head.
“One more.” The younger demon's eyebrows shot up to his hairline at your words and you looked up at Jooheon, “You know what I want. Then we can be done.”
With a nod of agreement Jooheon slid down onto his stomach, his face between your legs. You only struggled slightly as you lifted yourself to your elbows.
“What are you doing?” Changkyun asked.
You smiled over at him, “Just kneel up here for me.”  
“Y/n…” he said cautiously, “You’re spent, angel.”
“I can handle it.” you argued, “Now please let me suck your dick so it’s ready to go once Honey is done.”
Curious, he moved his way down your body to see what it was exactly that Jooheon was doing.  Jooheon looked over and smirked at the surprise on his face.
“Same time?” Changkyun murmured, his face lighting up as Jooheon nodded, “That little devil.”
“Kyunnie!” you whined loudly and he moved up the bed like you’d asked him to.
He cupped the back of your head with one hand as you directed his half hard cock into your mouth for a nice leisurely blow job. You laughed around his dick as he fixed your hair into a proper ponytail, and moaned when Jooheon had you near ready. After a few minutes he popped up onto his knees.
“We’re ready.”
You released Changkyun from your lips with a loud pop and pulled yourself up onto your knees. You directed Jooheon onto his back and straddled his lap.
“My pussy.” he reminded you softly.
Leaning down you pressed a soft kiss against both of Jooheon’s dimples and then brushed his ear with your lips, “All yours.”
With a deep groan you sunk down onto him, it was a little tense but you knew you could do it, that you wanted it.  Looking over your shoulder you eyed Changkyun who was stroking his fully erect cock.
“I don’t have to tell you what to do, do I?”
“No.” He laughed, “I’m well versed in threesomes, angel.”
He moved behind you then and took a second to spread your cheeks open, appreciating the ass eating Jooheon had done diligently to make sure you were nice and ready for him. Mouth watering at the sight in front of him he let a stream of spit fall from his lips onto his cock. Rubbing it over his tip with his palm he pressed his dick slowly against your asshole. Jooheon was whispering against your ear, urging you to relax for him. Once you had it was easier for him to push inside of you until you were filled to the brim with dick.
“Oh, sweet devil in hell.” you muttered breathlessly.
Now that it was happening you weren’t sure how much you’d actually be able to handle. Neither of them was even moving yet and you were already on the brink. Changkyun moved his hands slowly up your back, leaning into you. His lips pressed softly against the back of your shoulder on one side, while Jooheon kissed the front of your shoulder on the other. Skin blooming all over with beads of sweat and nerves tingling with overstimulation, you couldn’t imagine it got any better than this.
You let out a sigh, “Okay, I’m ready.”
Changkyun started, he eased out slowly and pushed back in with just as much care until you had become accustomed to the feel. It happened faster than either of you expected, but once it did you encouraged Jooheon to move as well. After a few minutes had passed you were begging them both to go deeper, to fuck you faster. Your arms were trembling as you held yourself up over Jooheon. Fingers clutched the blankets on both sides of his head into fistfulls.
Changkyun had his hands on your hips again, pulling you back into his lap. Jooheon had his hands on the backs of your thighs pulling you up onto his dick. You weren’t sure if either of them understood human anatomy because it felt like you were being tugged in two different directions. It didn’t matter enough for you to say anything however, your orgasm was coming hard and fast and you didn’t have the energy for words. It was just illicit moaning and trying to keep breathing. Jooheon and Changkyun came back to back. Being filled to the point of gushing made you feel filthy and sexy.  
Changkyun removed himself first, and helped gently lift you from Jooheon. You collapsed back onto the pillows, aching for sleep. Jooheon climbed up beside you and rested his head against your shoulder.
“Should I run you a bath, love?” he asked kindly.
You shook your head, “I just want to sleep for a bit.”
Changkyun lifted his palm to your cheek and gave you a soft kiss against your lips. “Thank you, angel.”
You grabbed his wrist before he could pull himself away from you, “Stay.”
“No, it’s okay, you guys-”
“Kyunnie…” you sighed, exhausted. “Lay down. You worked hard.”
He crashed down next to you with a groan and laid his head on the shoulder opposite Jooheon. The latter was already breathing softly with sleep. You held his head gently in your arm, and turning your face towards him you pressed a kiss against his sweaty forehead. The clouds outside were pitch black and you listened to the rain as it beat against the windows harder than before. Eyes closed, a smile spread across your face and you whispered to a nearly sleeping Changkyun.
“Told you it was a beautiful day.”
-
Minhyuk pulled up to The Eighth Circle and put the car in park. In the backseat Jooheon, fingers wrapped around your hand, pulled it to his lips. You blushed lightly as he left a kiss against your knuckles.
“Ohhh-Kay.” Changkyun sighed from the front seat, popping his door open, “I’ll see you two inside.”
Things had been infinitely better between the three of you but witnessing the amount of affection the two of you often shared still wasn’t Changkyun’s cup of tea. Even if he got to fuck you sometimes, you loved Jooheon and all three of you knew that. He was okay with it now. Oftentimes he found  himself genuinely happy for the both of you. It was just hard when he realized, after the two of you had been sleeping together for while, that what he really wanted was deeper than sex. He wanted what you two shared. He wanted to be bonded.
The three of you had been running late but the club didn’t open for another half hour. Still it wasn’t a surprise to anyone that there was already a line at the door. Girls hovered in a swarm around the front as Changkyun tried to get inside. They called out his name, tried to get him to remember them, each and every one of them vying for attention. It was well known at that point that Jooheon was off limits, which meant that there was only one Malebranche Brother left and everyone wanted him. Jooheon and you had thought he might like it, but Changkyun’d started to loathe the attention when he knew that none of them were The One.  
He ducked inside the door, narrowly missing a pair of used panties that had been thrown at his head. Club employees greeted him kindly as they moved around getting things ready for open. Changkyun stopped at the bar first. He made himself an old-fashioned and popped a few cherries into his mouth before making his rounds. He visited each room and meandered around. He did quick check-ins with all of the employees, spoke to security to make sure everything looked good, went backstage to make sure the performers were happy and had everything they needed before curtains. Certain that everything was running smoothly he made his way back to the foyer as doors opened. He watched for just a minute before starting his way up stairs.
The room filled quickly as people started to filter into the different rooms. He’d gotten halfway up the staircase when his legs froze in place. His hand clutched the banister and his eyes closed. He tried taking a deep breath but his chest was tight. There was a twisting in the pit of his stomach and he wasn’t sure how to ease it. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever felt before. He figured it was something he ate. With a gulp he turned his head to look over his shoulder back down at the crowded room below. He tried to find you or Jooheon, hoping one of you could help.  
The twisting started to feel like a tug. It felt as if a rope had been tied tightly around him and was attempting to pull him backwards, back down the stairs. It was an energy he’d never experienced before. A magnet tearing through him. It clicked in his mind then, he’d heard about a sensation just like it once. It was the way Jooheon described the first time he’d seen you. A need so heavy it had made him sick.
With a nervous gulp he turned around completely, his eyes passed over the crowd until they reached a young woman who was just making her way inside. A group of friends surrounded her as she looked around the room in awe, it was clear it was her first time there. She’d been smiling and laughing with her friends while they moved towards the bar. He watched her for a moment as her demeanor changed.
Her smile faded into something a little confused, almost scared. Her bottom lip tucked between her teeth and she squirmed slightly in the tight fabric of her dress. Then her eyes turned to pass over the crowd, like she was searching for someone. Her face turned toward the staircase and their eyes met. Changkyun’s lip curled into a smirk as she looked up at him with big wanton eyes. Finding her smile once more she raised an eyebrow. With a single finger he urged her over and she began to make her way through the crowd towards him. As he moved back down the stairs to meet her he let out a sigh of relief as all of his feelings for you eased away. He’d found what he was looking for.
It was her.
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dylanhawth · 3 years
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[ LORENZO ZURZOLO, CISMAN, HE/HIM ] shh ! DYLAN HAWTHORNE, the TWENTY year old SECOND year ANTHROPOLOGY major from HARTFORD, CT is known as a TOURMALINE  around here. HE was invited to join because HE PUBLISHED A COLLECTION OF SHORT STORIES ANONYMOUSLY THAT GARNERED A BIT OF FOLLOWING AND RECENTLY STEPPED FORWARD AS THE AUTHOR, and now, they’re here to stay. HE reminds me of THE NERVOUSNESS OF A FIRST KISS, LEAVING SECRET MESSAGES IN LIBRARY BOOKS, DRIVING AIMLESSLY WITH THE WINDOWS ROLLED DOWN ON A WARM SUMMER NIGHT WHILE THE RADIO HUMS A PLAYLIST CURATED FOR YOU BY YOUR BEST FRIEND.
[ big ass bio ] | [ connections ] | [ pinterest ] | [ playlist ] 
ooc. 
omfg hello. i can’t tell you how excited and happy i am to be here. i was too nervous to apply for the last three months but i decided to stop being a Coward and just try. im SO happy to be here, it’s the highlight of my week tbh lmao. anyway i am mar, she/her, 24, est. i live in nyc and all i do is visit the planetarium and cry. i’m so fucking bad at these so im just gonna LIST things and hope you get the vibe. i am a pisces sun, scorpio moon. i prob have a napoleon complex a little bit lmao. my favorite social media site is goodreads and i get rlly sad when my friends rate books i love poorly dfljskdfs. i can touch my tongue to my nose. i eat a lot of persimmons. i have a favorite rock at my local park that i visit a lot. idk dfskjls. i’m v friendly tho so pls hmu. i send a lot of memes, and love making meme edits for the chars so im rlly sorry in advance if you guys hate that. 
01.      basics.
NAME.   dylan h. hawthorne. ALIASES. dyl, hawth.   AGE.  twenty. HOMETOWN. hartford, ct. GENDER.  cismale. PRONOUNS.   he/him.
 02.      appearance.
EYES.   green. HAIR.   brown. HEIGHT.   6”0 BUILD.   lean. BIRTHMARKS   /   BURNS   /   SCARS.   a birthmark the shape of australia on his left thigh. TATTOOS.   n/a. PIERCINGS.   n/a.
03.      habits.
ALCOHOL   ?  socially. SMOKING   ?  socially. HABITS.  fidgets in chairs. cracks knuckles and back often. nervous laughter. chewing on pencils. talking to his plants. dogearing books. staring off into space and applying chapstick for a prolonged period of time. getting overly competitive about boardgames. stress cleaning. carries a book in his bag always. night owl. incredibly impatient when the internet is slow. creature of habit when it comes to menus, orders the same shit over and over again. LIKES.   feeding the ducks at the local pond. the smell of the earth after a rainstorm. the way music sounds coming from another room. kissing. watering his plants. inside jokes. making wishes in fountains. discussing a recently finished book with someone. making handmade cards for friends on their birthday. fireworks. coming of age films. packages wrapped in twine. jogs. the way friday nights feels when you’re with someone you love. the feeling you get leaving the movie theatre. DISLIKES.   being late. having too many coins on him. coffee with no sugar. when people speak loudly in the library. doing laundry. handshakes with too much squeeze. receiving voicemails. untidiness. golf. charles dickens. lectures with no student input. hot weather. confrontation. being caught in a lie. losing his umbrella. people who cheat during games. rainboots. bad table manners. humidity.
04.      personality.
MYERS-BRIGGS.   infp. ENNEAGRAM. the helper. ZODIAC.   pisces. TEMPERAMENT.   melancholic. ALIGNMENT.   neutral good. ARCHETYPE.   the lover. POSITIVE.   empathetic. sensitive. intelligent. charismatic. easygoing. gentle. loyal. passionate. romantic. humble. supportive. gregarious. playful. diligent. NEGATIVE.   deceitful. gullible. finicky. naive. obsessive. perfectionistic. secretive. timid. possessive. weak-willed. indecisive. cynical. indulgent. summary: basically, dylan is a love starved, people pleasing nervous wreck. big ass nerd who wants to be everyones friend, wants to be liked SO BAD. very charming and charismatic, comes off as fairly confident and comfortable at first. is able to make everyone feel loved and like they’re the most important person in the world, however lacks a backbone. is both romeo and juliet, and just as dumb as both of them too. 
05.      hc’s.
dylan was a football player in high school, believe it or not. he was rather good at it too, which is sort of jarring considering his pacifistic nature. however, he DID land on someone incorrectly at some point during his senior year, and broke their wrist. he quickly abandoned the sport altogether because of how guilty he felt. 
touched on this briefly but dylan really… loves indiana jones lmao. like, it’s quite ironic given his absolutely inability to be a badass, and lack of suaveness. however, he admires indy’s lust for adventure. he also was obsessed with the mummy as a kid. both of these were incredible sources in his very irrational decision to sudden anthropology. however, he does really love and admire anthropology. his favorite ethnography is the spirit catches you and you fall down, which makes him cry like a little bitch every time he even thinks about it. 
he’s the second oldest, but he is also baby. he is SUCH a big momma’s boy. he misses his mom so much. he writes to her often, and of course calls her even more. despite being six-foot tall, he still goes home and rests his head on his mother's lap, falls asleep as she runs her fingers through his hair. he often tries to find native english plants and flowers to press, and mail back to his mother in the form of bookmarks. has nEVER STEPPED ON A CRACK IN HIS LIFE, BABY.
just leaves a shit ton of notes in books in the library. some are riddles, some are poetry, some are commentary on the book, some are doodles. just depends on how he’s feeling for that book. he doesn’t tell anyone he does it, but he’s waiting for someone to connect the dots with his handwriting and writing style. 
speaking of plants, his room is basically a big greenhouse. he has so many plants, and takes serious care of them all. he has a little humidifier in his space for them, marks down when he waters what plants, and has a label maker to label them all with a name. they are all named after shakespeare characters. 
dyl is a doodler, so much so that he contributes to the school paper as a cartoonist. his cartoons are usually just random thoughts he has, but sometimes they get political and he works marxism into them. (this man loves marx.) 
[ suicide implied tw, death mention tw ] he dresses like a victorian boy in love with his roommate who has recently died of scarlet fever and in his mourning, plans to disappear in the bog by the school by mysterious circumstances and become a ghost that haunts the college with his lover. like lots of gray and slacks and ties ands ties and sweaters, lol. also he has glasses that he never wears because he can never find them! catch him squinting in your classroom because he can’t see SHIT. too shy to ask you for your notes though, doesn’t wanna inconvenience you! but when he’s Out on the Town®, he fucking wears like, tacky patterned shirts that are expensive but ugly. someone please help him. 
all about fun socks! he loves owning socks that have dumb little images on them. if you get him a pair of fun socks, he’d absolutely go nuts. his entire week: made. 
he leaves his roommate limericks when he senses they are sad. tapes em to the bathroom mirror or leaves them in the fridge. also loves buying people presents. tiny ones. like haunted looking things from second hand stores, or your favorite chocolate. also is the sort of friend that has EVERYTHING in his bag, in case someone cuts themselves or has a headache. can be a bit of a mom himself. it’s the little things, y’know? 
prob still in his emo phase. listens to way too mcr to not be lmao.
eco-friendly king, will not stand for you not recycling. 
if you will allow him, he will attempt to have a secret handshake with you. he’s a child. is dying for someone to memorize the parent trap handshake and indulge him. 
cannot sit still in a chair. fidgets an excessive amount, the bobbing of his knee and the squirming around. it just never ends. 
bi. that’s the hc.
he’s a little bit in love with everyone he meets if you couldn’t tell, and it’s fucking disastrous. 
he is based loosely off: patroclus ( the song of achilles ), ponyboy curtis ( the outsiders ), laurie laurence ( little women ), eduardo saverin ( the social network ), remus lupin ( hp ), oliver marks ( if we were villains. ) 
( @opalsmedia​ )
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averykedavra · 3 years
Note
75. With whoever honestly (I definitely could see Patton saying it to Roman to make him laugh tho)
(~ im-an-anxious-wreck)
(Hi! Sorry for the delay, @im-an-anxious-wreck, I needed to do some school!)
Words: 1840
It was rare for Patton and Roman to get a moment to themselves. With the school play coming up, they were thrust into the busy bustling of a play almost finished. Every costume had to be perfect. Every movement had to be aligned. Every line needed to be accented, every light on at the correct time--it was a whirlwind of rehearsals and preparations.
Roman loved it, of course. He loved every moment of every play their high school put on. But it certainly got tiring, and it kept him rehearsing long after school was over, until the sky was dark outside.
He must have repeated his lines ten times just today. If he heard ‘start from the top again,’ he might faint, and he was beginning to resent every inch of the school stage. He kicked it in irritation. It didn’t budge. The stage waits for no one, he’d been told, but he wished it would wait a few more days and give them time.
He’d barely gotten a moment with Patton all week.
That was the only reason he’d agreed to this. Everyone was already gone, bundled in coats and tucking scripts against their chests. The stage was empty and the lights glowed yellow, so bright that Roman could see the dust spiraling in each beam, so bright that he could barely make out a single seat in the audience.
Next week, he’d be up here, saying his lines to the whole school. Slightly to the left of center stage, then cross downstage, then gesture to the right.
Roman looked down at the pamphlet in his hand. Midsummer Night’s Dream. Or it would have been, if he hadn’t folded it backwards.
“Crap!” Roman said, unfolding the pamphlet and trying again. “Why are these so hard?”
“It’s just fold, fold, and then fold back over!” Patton showed him. “Easy.”
“Easy for you, darling.” Roman fumbled his way through the pamphlet. “Who was supposed to do this again?”
“Us,” Patton said with a smile. “We did sign up.”
“Hmph,” Roman said, flattening the edge of the pamphlet. “That’s because you’re a sweetheart and can’t say no to anyone.”
“It’s the nice thing to do!” Patton’s eyes widened in the way they always did, cute and pleading and a bit teasing. “Who else is going to? We need pamphlets.”
“Just don’t hand any out,” Roman suggested. “No names. No plot summary. People can go into this play and figure out what’s happening for themselves, like real audience members.”
Patton giggled as he placed a folded pamphlet on the pile. All his pamphlets were perfectly folded. Of course they were--when was Roman’s boyfriend anything less than perfect? “It’s a Shakespeare play anyway,” Patton said. “I think they all know what happens.”
“Fair,” Roman admitted, trying not to cut his fingers on the edge of his pamphlet. He wished he could reach out and hold Patton’s hand. But he was busy. Even when it was just the two of them, they were busy. Roman was a bit tired of that. “Stupid pamphlets, though.”
Patton gave him a sympathetic look. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to--”
“No, no, I am valiant! Brave! Noble!” Roman pressed a hand to his forehead. “I shall persevere through this struggle, for peasants are in need of my gifts!”
Patton giggled. Success!
“We can make it more interesting for you, though,” Patton suggested after a second, fingers dancing nimbly over the pamphlets. “Maybe you could run lines?”
Roman groaned loudly. “Not more lines.”
“Aw, isn’t it more fun when I’m here?” Patton grinned at him. “Just suggesting! To make this worth your while.”
“Fine,” Roman said, and Patton squealed. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“I am!” Patton agreed.
Roman tried not to splutter. He stared fixedly at his pamphlets as his face grew hot. “You were saying?”
“Practice your lines!” Patton said. “What’s a scene you want to work on?”
“None of them,” Roman said, truthfully.
Patton fixed him with a look.
Roman sighed. “Act Two, Scene One. The fairies kept forgetting their blocking and we barely made it to my part of the scene.”
“Okay!” Patton looked around for his script book. He fumbled with it and pulled it out. “Sorry, I’m gonna need this for any scene with no Theseus.”
“It’s okay!” Roman waited for Patton to finish. Patton flipped through several pages, still pulling at the pamphlets with his other hand. Roman poked at some pamphlets himself. There were entirely too many of them. Maybe he should have guilted some of their classmates into staying behind, too.
“Here?” Patton asked. “‘Ill met by moonlight’?”
“Yep!” Roman stretched and looked out into the audience. Nobody was there, except for their stage director bustling around backstage. It was less stressful when nobody could see him, but it was stranger, to be the only person in the room. Patton and him, single spotlight.
“I’ll be Titania,” Patton said. “You can practice being Oberon.”
“Great.” Roman turned to face Patton again. “Go?”
Patton nodded, twin afro puffs glowing in the stage lights.
“Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania,” Roman began, trying to deepen his voice a bit. He couldn’t do his perfected stance--feet slightly apart, shoulders back--but he could still pretend he was a snooty fairie king.
“What--” Patton blinked at the script and looked up. Then, in a nasally voice, he said “What, jealous Oberon? Fairies, skip hence: I have forsworn--”
“Wh--” Roman snickered. “Patton, what is that voice?”
“What?” Patton said, batting his eyelashes innocently. “I’m acting! Anyway--” He cleared his throat and dipped back into his faux-Elizabethan falsetto. “I have forsworn his bed and company.”
Roman laughed, covering his mouth. “That’s not--”
“What?” Patton said again, giggling.
“Why are you doing that voice?” Roman asked. “You know how to act, dear!”
“I’m trying to distinguish this one from Theseus,” Patton said. “I have to go all high up!”
“No, you don’t!” Roman laughed harder. “Nobody’s going to think that Oberon is flirting with Theseus.”
“Oh, is thy humours unaligned?” Patton said, in the same nasally voice, somehow even more posh and oddly British. “Art thou irritated at me, oh wise one, havest thou irritation at me--”
“No!” Roman leaned back, trying to stop laughing. “No, no, that is so wrong.”
Patton pouted. “It is?”
“Yes!” Roman let his head hit the stage. He stared into the lights, laughing. “You know how to do this, honey, don’t mess with me.”
“I was just trying to make it more interesting,” Patton said. “I don’t even like this scene. Oberon’s a jerk.”
“He is,” Roman admitted. “But I don’t think any Shakespeare characters aren’t. Or, at least, the men.”
“Oberon tries to steal a baby!”
“Like I said.” Roman sighed. “Contrary to what I believed at first, Shakespeare is rather messed up. The words are still pretty, though.”
“They are.” Patton cleared his throat. “Then I must be thy lady, but--”
Roman started laughing again. Patton just sounded ridiculous. After a few seconds, Patton laughed, too, and dropped the script on the ground.
“You’re adorable,” Roman told the ceiling.
“You aren’t even looking at me.”
“Don’t need to.” Roman swung upright and held out his hands, framing Patton’s face. “See? Knew it!”
Patton giggled and looked away. He did look adorable. The golden light glanced off his glasses and gleamed on his nose, and reflected something deep in his brown eyes. Roman would be happy to just sit here and look at his boyfriend for hours--goodness knew he hadn’t had the chance for a while.
Roman looked down at the pamphlets. Right.
“You’re going to distract me,” he teased. “And we’ll never get this done. So much for running lines.”
“Yeah, I know.” Patton let out a breath. “Just figured--oh, I don’t know, I just wanted to make things easier on you. You’ve been so harried by the play all week. I thought giving you more time to practice would make you feel better.”
"You--” Roman blinked. “Oh.”
Patton gave the pamphlets a small smile. He’d started to fold them again, easily, fold-fold-and-fold-over-top. “I just want you to be excited for this. Not scared or stressed.”
“Oh,” Roman said again. “I am excited.”
“I know!”
“No, I seriously am!” Roman laughed a bit. “It’s all been a blur, and I’m definitely filled with adrenaline, but I’m not stressed about it. It’s going to be fine! I’ve practiced my lines enough to recite them in my sleep.” He smiled softer. “And I’ve got you there on stage with me. It’ll be okay.”
Patton laughed and rubbed at his cheeks. “You’re making me all flustered! I don’t think we even have a scene together.”
“Yeah, but you’re backstage most of the time!” Roman raised an arm and twirled it. “I do my beautiful, spellbinding acting, then I go backstage to the most beautiful and spellbinding person I know!”
Patton squeaked.
“And yeah, I’ve been a bit stressed,” Roman admitted, letting his arm fall. “But that’s just because I’ve missed you. We’ve barely had any time to hang out--which is fine, I just...yeah, I’m looking forward to when we can be together again.”
Patton’s eyes widened in his classic you’re so cute expression. He didn’t even have to say it. Roman cursed his blushing cheeks as he tried to hide his face.
“You’re so cute,” Patton said. Roman blushed harder. “And sweet, and I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner!”
“No, it’s okay!” Roman shrugged, still trying to force down his blush. “We were both busy. I get it.”
“Yeah.” Patton looked down at the pamphlets, glossy in the light, then back at Roman. “And it’s worth it. But--I miss you, too.”
Roman smiled at him.
Patton smiled back. “So, what do you want to do now?”
“What?”
“We can talk about anything,” Patton said, waving a hand. “Or we can go peek at the costumes, or dance around onstage--tons of things!”
“What?” Roman said again. “But--the pamphlets--”
“Can wait!” Patton beamed and folded one pamphlet. “It’s easy, see? Fold-fold-fold? I’ll get them in no time, we can take a break or two.”
Roman found himself grinning brighter than the stage lights. “Really?”
“Of course!”
“Fantastic!” Roman jumped up and extended a hand. Patton took it, and Roman pulled him to his feet. They stood there for a second. The stage lights were always uncomfortably hot, but Roman couldn’t tell if that was why he felt warm. Maybe it was just Patton’s hand in his.
Patton looked beautiful, on the stage, in front of the world. Absolutely beautiful. Pretty words and beautiful sentiment.
Who needed Shakespeare, fake accent or not?
Roman had really missed this.
“So,” Roman said, “want to practice blocking? I think you start out center stage--”
He tugged Patton to center stage. Patton giggled and stumbled to a stop, and Roman caught him, arms around his waist.
“And then you go downstage, upstage, all around!” Roman squeezed his hand. “Wanna practice?”
Patton beamed back. “Sure.”
And Patton was right--with his boyfriend around, Roman didn’t mind practicing at all.
Give me a prompt, and I’ll write a short drabble!
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aoifeanamadan · 3 years
Text
After School Special
Fandom: Minecraft YouTube rpf (mcyt)
Word count: 4386
Relationship: DreamNotFound (DreamxGeorgeNotFound)
Summary:
The sky is blue, the sun is hot and Dream hates George.
Everyone knew Dream hated him, really hated him, all smug and sarcastic and closed off. Where Dream was friendly, loud and outgoing, George was quiet and pretentious. It was like he thought he was above everyone else.
Needless to say, neither of them were over the moon when they found out they had to spend two months working together in weekend detention.
Support this work on AO3 :)
Chapter Two: Montague versus Capulet
Change is hard. It’s a universal truth. But for Dream, change was foreign. It just didn’t happen. He did the same thing every day. Get up, sunrise, shower, breakfast, get in Sapnap’s truck. The days were all the same, they pushed into each other.
It was as if his life was made up of concrete blocks, one for every day. He was stacking them, and the more weight he added, the less space between the blocks. They were pressed so closely together, the weight of a lifetime keeping them tight, there was no room for opportunities to worm themselves in.
That wasn’t to say it was bad. He liked his life. It was fine. He had friends, hobbies, he did great in school. He was captain of the state champion soccer team. Girls liked him. It was all perfectly fine.
His new weekend arrangements threw a spanner into his routine. Instead of watching Netflix from his couch in his pyjamas, he was sitting at the breakfast table across from his dad. His father’s attempted conversation was a sorry replacement for Netflix’s D-List cartoons.
His dad was him lecturing about something, but it was as if Dream had cotton in his ears. His father’s throwaway words about consequence and responsibility were muted. He was saying something about the image Dream had to project as soccer captain when a ding came from Dream’s phone. It was Sapnap.
Sapnap  
(9:37 am) hey im outside lets go
Once Dream read the text he was on his feet, toast in his mouth and jacket in his hand, rushing muffled goodbyes to his father. He heard the vague well wishes as he left.
Sapnap was a good friend, but one of his best traits was knowing when to be the enemy. The second Dream got in the car, he was complaining. About his dad, George, these stupid weekend classes. His lamenting was cut short. Before he could fully develop any of his woes, Sapnap was interrupting.
“Dream shut up,” he whined. It caught Dream off guard, stopping him in the middle of his first anti-George rant of the day. He looked at Sapnap, wounded. Sapnap just rolled his eyes. Dream gave up on the hurt puppy charade. He had only been on the first part of the speech, George’s entitlement. He didn’t even get to parts two, three or four (George’s pretentiousness, George’s fakeness and George’s sense of superiority, respectively). Each part was ten minutes long.
“Dude?” He didn’t like the distant hurt that he could hear in his voice. Sapnap softened.
“Sorry, it’s just like, this is your fault Dream.” This was not how Dream had expected the drive to hell to go. “You started the fight, and it’s not like George wants to do this either.” He knew Sapnap might have been right, but  Dream soured at the thought of Sapnap and George’s friendship. Them discussing how Dream had ruined his weekend plans for the next two months, George trying to steal his best friend.
He pushed down the feeling of betrayal, it wasn’t fair to Sapnap. He could reserve that feeling exclusively for George.
“Yeah, maybe.” Dream hummed, noncommittal. He glanced out the window, the school was in sight. It was towering over him, looming and gothic. Dream was suddenly overcome, every part of him was saying don’t go in. He pushed the thoughts down and refocused on Sapnap.
“You might even enjoy it, George is really funny!” Dream could tell he was trying to spin this into a positive, but the thought of having to spend two hours a week with George for two months made him feel hopeless. He imagined it, the hours he’d have to listen to George try to boss him around, trying to make him feel stupid. George would try to one-up him every chance he got, that was just who he was. He could never just let Dream win.
Before Dream could reply, the car was parked. He looked at Sapnap, who didn’t seem quite as sombre as Dream did. To Dream, it felt like a solemn occasion. To Sapnap, it felt like dropping his friend off while he was on his way to do the weekly food shop.
“I don’t want to go in.”
Sapnap, ever sensitive, just laughed. He shoved Dream’s shoulders towards the door in a gentle but firm attempt to get him out of the car.
“Go on Dream, I have to get shit for dinner.”
Dream was walking and into the school before he had the chance to talk himself out of it. He wasn’t worried about the work. How hard could it be to recite some Shakespeare, or whatever it was they did in weekend English. He was worried about who he’d have to work with. He didn’t know anyone taking the class other than George.
When he entered the classroom, he was sure he was in the wrong room. At first, he thought there was no one in there. That was before he noticed the woman in the corner, facing the walls. Dream felt like he was interrupting something. He knocked on the door, which was already open. It was more of a polite way to say ‘Excuse me miss, you’re not possessed, right?’. She whipped around at the sound of Dream’s knuckled on the heavy wood. He was fairly sure she was not possessed.
As she stepped quickly towards him, he noticed her jumper. Plastered across the front there was the face of a multi-coloured pug. Her hair was wild around her, swamping her face, and her glasses made her eyes look like orbs too big for her face.
“Hello dear, sit down please, sit down. Welcome! You must be George?”
Dream rushed to correct her, rather than be mistaken for George of all people, but she had already moved on.
“I am Ms Dahlman, so so happy to have you here in English. What an opportunity! God, you’re so lucky. In my youth, we didn’t have these weekend class options. God, so lucky you all are. I am just so happy to have you here!” She was talking a mile a minute. Dream felt paralysed under her gaze, waiting for her to take a breath so he could interject.
She continued for four minutes, telling him how lucky he was to have this opportunity. He didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t his choice. He did however want to clear up that he was definitely not George.
Before he got his chance, there was another knock at the door. George’s voice came from the doorway, slow and soft. It was a stark contrast to Ms Dahlman.
“Sorry, I couldn’t find the room. I’ve never had weekend classes before.” George was standing, messy-haired and disinterested. Dream thought he looked arrogant. It was just like George to be late, he had no regard for other people’s time. Something shameful in Dream couldn’t wait to tell Sapnap, to prove he was ten times the friend George could be. But he wasn’t sure if good punctuality was quite enough to convince him.
“It’s fine, just come in.” Ms Dahlman sounded pained at the interruption, but she soldiered through. “You can sit down here next to George.”
George, the real George, quirked his eyebrow.
“That’s funny, my name is George too.” Dream wanted to wipe his smug smirk right off his face. Ms Dahlman however, seemed overjoyed with the development.
“Oh! Two George’s! Heavens above, who would’ve ever thought? I knew your name couldn’t be Dream, but that was all it said on the attendance form they gave me! I said to them, I said ‘Dream? Well that can’t be a real name, can it?’ but they told me it was the preferred name, so it was what I was to use. George is much more sensible.” Dream felt his cheeks burning, but he didn’t want to get aggressive. He tried to push the feelings down.
Looking at George, who seemed barely able to contain his laughter, made that a lot harder. Dream nodded at Ms Dahlman, to be polite, but she didn’t notice. She just continued speaking, something Dream was starting to note as a consistent course of action for her.
“As I was saying, the grade you get in this class will be added to your overall GPA for the subject. Normally, it’s used to bring up the average but obviously,” she gestured to the empty class “people just don’t care about English the way they used to.”
Only then did it strike Dream, him and George were the only two taking the class. Unless someone was running 8 minutes late for the first class, no one else was coming. Dream wanted to sink into his chair and never get up again.
Before he could figure out how to melt himself down, Ms Dahlman was explaining their first assignment.
“Now, for the first two months boys you will be writing a speech!” She paused, for dramatic effect. It didn’t work. Dream and George were looking at her with the same badly disguised disinterest. She continued, consistent as ever. “Now I heard about your, how to put this, communicational issues .” She grimaced at the mention of Dream and George’s earlier conflict.  “So!” She punctuated herself with a short clap. “The speech will be titled ‘What my partner has taught me.’ It’s going to be a great opportunity for you two to learn how to cooperate!”
Dream did not want the opportunity to cooperate with George. He was stuck up, rude, inconsiderate. He acted as if he was better than everyone else, scoffing and looking down at them. Dream had plenty of friends, he didn’t want or need George.
Ms Dahlman, unsurprisingly, was not finished speaking. And so she continued, taking Dream out of his pessimistic thoughts.
“Now, I can see no reason to keep you here.” Dream and George looked at each other instinctually, then up at her smiling face, waiting for an explanation. “I’ll be giving you sheets that I’ll need to be signed by your parents to prove every week that you’re putting the time in together, as well as a guide to writing the speech. But, really boys, I can’t imagine why you would have to stay in the school.”
Ms Dahlman seemed to be about fifty, possibly older. Dream had no idea how she had navigated the world so far. It seemed she never even paused her monologues to breathe.
She gave the sheets to both Dream and George, and then she just left. She walked out the door and into her car without a glance back. The boys were left stunned in her wake.
Dream looked at George. George looked at Dream. Neither said anything, neither knew what to say.
Before Dream could start the inevitable conversation, George had taken out his phone. Self-obsessed as ever. Dream commented, emboldened by his evident social superiority,
“Well, that’s a bit rude-” Before he could finish, George had interrupted.
“Can you drive?” George hadn’t even spared him a glance. So rude . Dream couldn’t say he was surprised. Dream rolled his eyes. George didn’t seem to notice.
“No. What does that have to do with anything?” Dream didn’t try to stop the animosity from seeping into his voice. George didn’t seem to notice.
“Well I can’t drive either, I got the bus here. And we can’t just stay in here, it smells bad.” Dream didn’t want to admit it, but George was right. It did smell bad.
Dream started to speak. At the same time, George looked up from his phone. They both spoke at the same time, the same idea.
“I’m texting Sapnap.”
“Maybe Sapnap can-”
Dream laughed nervously. George didn’t laugh back. Sapnap was collecting them within ten minutes, a bag of shopping in the back.
Before long, they were sitting together on Sapnap’s couch, alone. Sapnap had left the room to make some food for them. Dream would’ve been happy to sit in silence until Sapnap came back with the snacks, but George wasn’t on the same wavelength.
“So, um, how are you?” George’s voice trailed off as he spoke. It felt like he wanted to be there even less than Dream.
“Good. Fine.” Dream was curt. He hadn’t expected George to make conversation, and he wasn’t going to try and encourage it. George could go back to texting on his phone forever for all Dream cared.
“Good.” George was returning his energy. His friendly conversationalist charade hadn’t lasted very long. Dream tried to settle back into the silence between them.
It didn’t stay like that for long. By the time Sapnap was back, he was entering to hear George yelling.
“Seven billion people in the world and I get stuck doing this with you! Either I’m cursed or God likes playing house.” He was standing on one side of the couch, Dream on the other. Anytime Dream moved, George moved the opposite way.
“Fuck you, George!”
Sapnap just wanted to get everyone some snacks.
He made them recount the argument, word for word, starting with George tapping his fingers ‘too loud’ on the arm of the couch.
Before long, Sapnap was telling them both off. He couldn’t say he was shocked that he had to explain that George telling Dream “I can say with utmost certainty, that you are definitely, A Bitch.” was not working cooperatively.
Dream was just as bad. But he did at least look remorseful while recounting his shout of “Every time you open your mouth I want to push you over the edge of a cliff and I mean that with all my heart.”
In the end, Sapnap made them sit in silence at opposite ends of the couch. Dream tried to feel guilty, he really did, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret squabbling with George, or chasing him around the couch. He was just so awful . Someone needed to knock him down a peg. And it’s not like he couldn’t take it, he was coming back just as hard as Dream. Maybe even harder.
Dream didn’t feel guilty for fighting with George, but he did feel guilty for getting Sapnap tangled up in the middle of it all. Dream could tell he hated the tension he and George had created.
Dream glanced towards George, checking to see if he looked as guilty as Dream felt, only to be met with George’s eyes staring at him. Weirdo. George nodded his head towards Sapnap, then between him and Dream. Dream didn’t want to admit it, but he understood.
George was saying ‘Look what we did.’ He was saying ‘Come on, we’ve to fix this.’
As much as it hurt him, Dream knew George was right. He looked up at him. George was mouthing something. Dream looked at his lips.
He was saying ‘Fuck you.’
Dream couldn’t hold in his laugh, isolated and muffled. Luckily, it was covered up by George’s exaggerated apology.
“Dream, I’m sorry for annoying you on purpose, and then for saying mean things to you.” Dream nearly had to physically restrain himself from jumping up and down, yelling ‘I told you so!’ He had known George was annoying him on purpose. Instead, he announced his apology as a reply.
“That’s okay George. I am sorry for chasing you around the couch and also for saying mean things to you.” He stopped himself from adding the ‘I am also sorry that you are a little bitch.’ He was too mature.
Instead of a relieved laugh, Sapnap’s brow furrowed. Dream could almost hear his mind moving at a mile a minute. George must have noticed it too. They both left it, but Sapnap wasn’t saying anything. And Dream had never considered patience his strongest virtue.
“Just say it Sapnap.” Dream and George were both looking at him expectantly.
“Huh?” Sapnap looked shocked that they had noticed his internal conflict.
“He’s right, whatever you’re thinking. Just say it. I can practically hear you thinking.” George agreed with Dream. It was a day full of firsts.
“Do you guys actually hate each other? Like, there’s no reason to. Or, do you just enjoy the feeling of having someone to hate? I don’t get it.”
Dream didn’t know what to say. They had never talked about it so openly, him and George. It was an unspoken truth, so obvious it didn’t need to be acknowledged.
Montague versus Capulet, Taylor versus Katie, Dream versus George.
George and Dream just stared at each other, frozen. Sapnap moved on before either of them answered.
“You know what, nevermind. It doesn’t even matter.”
The silence made Dream feel guilty, looking at Sapnap made him feel worse. He was holding himself with annoyance, rare but visible. Before Dream could try and apologise, George was changing the subject. If he was someone else, Dream would've been thankful. But he was not anyone else, so Dream thought it was rude.
“So, where is everyone? The house is empty.” George was right. Both of Sapnap’s parents were out, a rare occurrence. The house was quiet, and the noise was obviously missing. There was no smell of cooking, no top of the pops radio. Dream hardened at the thought of George realising there was something wrong in Sapnap’s house before he could. He wasn’t surprised, it was just like George to make sure he mentioned it before Dream got a chance.
Dream scoffed. George didn’t notice, and if he did he didn’t turn around.
“Oh,” Sapnap’s eyes widened, shocked at the observation. Dream made a mental note to pay more attention to how Sapnap was doing. “My dad, he’s- he’s out of town.” Sapnap didn’t say anything else about it. Instead, he did his best to help George and Dream.
They tried to work, they really did, but it was hard. The main task was to listen and learn from each other, but Dream would have rather died than learn anything from George, and the sentiment was clearly reciprocated. It had gotten to the point where neither of them were even saying anything, just looking at Sapnap waiting for instruction.
Sapnap, bless him, he tried his best. But one thing Dream and George could agree on was that it was easy to say no to Sapnap’s ideas.
“Why don’t you bond over your childhoods or something?” Sapnap threw out his fifth idea in ten minutes. Dream and George glanced to each other before replying.
“That’s dumb.”
“Ew, no Sapnap.”
Sapnap rolled his eyes
“Okay, fine. Whatever, you guys have fun.” He took his laptop from the coffee table and put in his headphones, ignoring Dream and George’s shouts of protest.
“No, Sapnap come on! Give us another idea!” Dream whined. Sapnap shook his head, trying to hide a smile.
“Sorry guys, but I do actually have my own work to do.”
Without Sapnap, things went off track quickly. George and Dream were sitting on opposite sides of Sapnap. George was cross-legged on the floor, messing with a piece of paper. Dream was draped across the armchair, head tilting back up to the ceiling. He was tossing up and down a soccer ball.
George and Dream were thinking out loud, having long abandoned brainstorming for their speeches. It was easy to ignore it when they had an infinite two months stretching out in front of them.
“Why did you fight so hard for it to be weekends?” Dream threw the question out into the air, hardly thinking about George’s reply.
“Well, I have shit to do after school.” Dream could not imagine a single thing that George might have to do after school. “Plus, I knew you have soccer training after school. I figured the team couldn’t function without their captain.” George said it sarcastically, but he couldn’t mask the truth in the statement. George knew when Dream had soccer, even if it was probably just because of Sapnap. And he had accommodated him when negotiating their punishment.
George had done something nice for Dream, without even telling him. He had just done it, quiet and personal.
Dream didn’t know how to digest this new information.
He was so preoccupied with the idea of George being in any way considerate, he didn’t notice him picking up a new sheet of paper, tearing off a corner and rolling it up into a ball. Before Dream could glance in his direction, the paper ball had hit him on the nose.
“Hey!” Dream’s head snapped towards George. He had the audacity to smile.
“Oops,” George deadpanned. Dream was whining for Sapnap within the second.
“It wasn’t an accident! It wasn’t and you know it! Sapnap, Sapnap! Tell him!” Sapnap just rolled his eyes. Dream glared at George.
“Try that again. Try it, I dare you.” Dream tried his best to sound tough. He was big, he was intimidating. He was the captain of the state champion soccer team. George couldn’t do shit to him.
George threw another piece of paper.
“Sapnap! He did that on purpose!” Dream whined. He didn’t realise how similar to an eight-year-old he sounded until the words had already left his mouth. Sapnap didn’t even look up from his laptop. He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks.
Dream picked back up his soccer ball from his chest, a plan forming. Before he could even raise his hand, George was talking.
“Throw it, throw it and see what happens to you.” Dream gaped at George, he hadn’t even been looking at him. How did he know the soccer ball was coming? Just then, George did look. His eyes shot up from the paper crane he was making to meet Dream’s.
George’s eyes pierced him, frosty and chilling. Dream didn’t think he had ever looked into someone’s eyes the way he was doing just then. He felt like he could read George’s mind. It was saying ‘ Don’t you fucking dare’. Dream put back down the soccer ball slowly. The second George looked away, he threw it.
As the hours went by, George’s mask of indifference, his icy remarks and snarky comments, they faded away. A different George was filling his place. Still snarky, still acting as if he was just a little bit better than Dream, but different. He was excitable, quicker to smile.
George wasn’t as bad as Dream thought he was. Sure, he was a little bit rude. And he was definitely pretentious. He wasn’t as arrogant as Dream had thought he would be. And, even if it pained him to say it, he was funny.
All these things combined, he wasn’t the worst person to spend time with. No one noticed that the two mandatory hours had passed. They just stayed on Sapnap’s sitting room floor together, talking. George wasn’t a bad listener.
Dream was telling the story of his awful Monday morning, the first day of senior year. He was a good storyteller, he prided himself on that. Even Sapnap had taken off his headphones to listen. He had just gotten to the part of the story where he had to sit next to Weird Sarah. The smile George had been wearing was slipping slowly as he told him the woeful tail of having to sit next to her. George interrupted for the first time in hours.
“Hey, don’t be mean.” George was looking serious, an expression he hadn’t worn in hours. Dream didn’t understand why.
“Sarah’s actually a childhood friend. She’s really nice when you get to know her.”
Dream understood why. He felt like an idiot.
“Oh, shit, shit. Sorry, I didn’t realise. Shit. I’m sorry.” He tried his best to sound sincere, a stained sort of guilt overcoming him. George’s face didn’t change.
“No, it’s okay. It’s fine. I just forgot who you were for a second there.”
Dream felt like shit. Sarah hadn’t even done anything to him. But something in his mind was whispering to him. It wasn’t his fault if George was friends with her. Maybe they were both weird. This was classic George, trying to make him feel bad no matter what he did. Dream tried to push it away, but it was there. Lying underneath his brain, polluting his thoughts.
George, the George that Dream had come to know in that evening at Sapnap’s house, was suddenly gone. He stayed another half-hour, but it wasn’t the same. They focused on the work, writing about speech structures and other things Dream couldn’t have cared less about. And then George was gone, collected from the footpath outside Sapnap’s quiet house by his mother.
Dream and Sapnap were left alone in his sitting room. Dream wanted to sink into the floor and never get up again.
“Well That wasn’t, that wasn’t as bad as I expected.” Sapnap tried his best, but he didn’t even sound convincing to himself.
“It was bad.” Dream groaned, getting down to lie on the carpeted floor.
“Well, don’t undersell it. It wasn’t all bad.” Sapnap prodded him gently in the side with his foot. Dream squirmed.
“It was all bad.” Mixed with the embarrassment, there was a bitter kind of regret. Dream had ruined something good, something new. Before he could sink too far down his hole of sorrow, Sapnap was there.
“You should text him, to like apologise or something.” Sapnap had stood up to clean the sitting room, bring their plates into the kitchen. The conversation was over. Dream heaved himself off the floor, despite the weight of his self-pity.
“Yeah, okay. Okay. Yeah.”
It was later that night when Dream got the chance to text George. It was easier to send difficult texts from the safety of his blanket.
Dream
(10:14 pm) hey, its dream. Im sorry for talking shit about sarah.
(10:15 pm) It was mean and wasnt fair i feel really bad about it
Dream hadn’t realised just how much he actually wanted George’s forgiveness until he saw the three dots next to George’s name.
Gogy<3
(10:16 pm) its cool. dont do it again though it was a dick move
Dream
(10:16 pm) yeah i know :(
Gogy<3
(10:17 pm) also for future reference i never read texts. Message me on sc if you need me its georgenotfound
At 10:18 pm, George got a notification.
Dreamwastaken has added you as a friend.
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mzcal · 3 years
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•  HEADCANON  002   ⇢  SHAKESPEARE & SEXUALITY .
this is a really solid title. anyway, so, i found out about a computer screen in the havana map that likely has a connection with sombra. here is a screenshot i took in-game of it with a loosely translated transcript below for convenience’s sake.
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“Cesario” sighed Olivia as her hair fell over her shoulder. Viola tried to avert her gaze. “Cesario, come closer.” “My lady, please…” Viola said firmly, “I told you…” “They’re not here, but you are. Didn’t you come here to return my ring?” Olivia’s hand brushed her’s and it was hot, so hot. 
alright, so first of all: this is so gay. for those unfamiliar with this passage, this is a scene from the play twelfth night by shakespeare. i’ll go further into that later, but here’s what we know about this canonically.
this was found on a computer in the map havana, cuba. talon has canonically been in havana with one of their connections, maximillion, operating there.
this was found inside the operations room of don rumbotico, the rum distillery that maxmillion uses as a front for his money laundering.
there are SO many shakespeare references in this map. i’m only gonna list off the ones that are about twelfth night. there are two locations named after the characters in this play: taller de sebastian and viola y orsino. sebastian, viola, and orsino make up three major characters of the play. in this excerpt, we see viola (who is disguised as cesario).
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now with those tidbits out of the way, here’s some speculation. the first thing i noticed is the name olivia. clearly, there is only one character in the entire game who has that name associated with them and that’s sombra, as revealed in the comic with her and zarya. olivia is also the only character who does not come up anywhere else in the map unlike viola. if this wasn’t intentional, i imagine they would have put a completely different scene that did not involve olivia since sombra’s name is such a hot topic. i like to think that this points towards two things that are being heavily hinted at as canon. one, olivia colomar is not her real name. two, sombra likes women.
for the name headcanon, let me redirect you over to this post.
for the sapphic part of the headcanon, i’ll just go into it here because it’s not as big.
obviously i personally headcanon her as a lesbian but they could just as easily go the bi/pan route with her too and that would sense. but regardless, it’s interesting that they chose the only (or one of the only?) plays from shakespeare that has any focus on a wlw relationship and that they go as far as rewriting it into spanish and upping the tension like CRAZY. the scene about the ring was nowhere near as tense when i read it over and in the end olivia ends up with viola’s brother, but this almost feels like someone’s rewriting it where olivia and viola are together. the reason why it feels like somebody rewrote it is because it’s in a book format rather than a play format which would have been easier to put on screen anyway? i don’t know if its necessarily implying that sombra was writing this but it’s even in spanish (its in havana, i know, but they could have chosen any map) so it definitely feels like it has to do with a potential sexuality reveal for her which is fun for her character. fitting considering the year long arg leading up to her release LOL
some side notes just to add to it
her halloween skin is based on frankenstein’s bride. while we get little lore on her role in the junkenstein universe, it seems to line up with the story where she runs away from junkenstein as to not marry his monster and apparently now resides in the countess’ castle? they could’ve just not put sombra’s shit in her house but they sure did? 
edit because @whski​ started looking into articles about the bride of frankenstein so credit to her HDJGHG but we confirmed the movie had a lot to do with sexuality and while it focused on the doctors, there’s still the theme of homosexuality present. 
another thing she dug up is that another monster in the universal classic monsters group, dracula’s daughter countess zaleska who is very fucking gay and they specifically refer to amelie as the countess in-universe. i’m not saying amelie is gay since she had her husband and i personally do headcanon her as bi, but it’s another slight nod.
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hey so this isn’t proof but im sorry look at her and tell me she’s not lgbt. as a nonbinary lesbian i also have half dyed side parted hair, part of my head shaved, eyebrow slits, bright makeup… Need I Go On
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wethairjoel · 4 years
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All my Valentine’s days with you (Gwilym lee x  reader)
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A/N: Hi, its me! Your secret cupid/santa (a million years later though) @rogerscupboard I had so much fun writing this little piece, hope you like it! and im sorry for the delay 😭 i truly hope this matches your expectations and you enjoy reading it ❤️❤️ happy (very late) Valentine’s day! Special thanks @dtfrogertaylor for hosting this!!
Warnings: Pure 100% fluff, a little bit of innuendo at the end.
-------------------
You met casually in a little coffee shop on a very cold afternoon. He ordered a cappuccino, nothing too extravagant, just a hot beverage to help him forget a little about the cold weather. You were nursing a cup of tea, reading a book that everyone had recommended to you, and it mostly had good reviews online so you decided to give it a try but, in your opinion, it wasn't that good after all, but you had already started so now you had to finish it.
"That's a really good book" you heard a man say. You jumped slightly, he had caught you off guard.
"Oh, did you read it?" You asked. "Wait, no. That's stupid. Of course you have. Why would you say it's good if you hadn't read it" you said, closing your book squinting your eyes a little.
The rather tall, handsome man chuckled a little. "Do you mind if I sit here?", you shook your head. "I'm Gwilym, by the way," He said offering you his hand. 
"Y/N. Nice to meet you" You said shaking his hand, a small smile spreading over your face.
You spent hours talking about the book, he tried to make you see it's good, you, on the other hand, couldn't see it, even when he presented good points, he still didn't completely convince you, but he did make you laugh. A lot. 
"How about we continue this discussion some other day?" he suggested. "Maybe over coffee or dinner?" Gwilym continued. He really wanted to see you again and you thanked god he asked you first because you too wanted to see him again, but didn't know exactly how to tell him. 
You texted back and forth all night that night, and that was the beginning of you and Gwilym. Your friends had never seen you this happy. His friends had never seen him blush so easily and frequently as he did whenever he read a message you sent him.
An almost exact week later, on February 14th, you were getting ready for your first date with Gwil. At 3 pm sharp you heard your doorbell ring.
"You're right on time!" you said opening the door. You saw Gwilym standing there with a boyish grin just staring at you. 
"What? do I have something on my face?" You asked as he didn't say anything after you greeted him. 
"Oh no, it's just that you look very pretty today, that's all," He said making you feel like you could just melt right there and then. "Shall we?" Gwilym asked you, offering you his arm, which you gladly accepted. 
That afternoon you went to a museum, they had a special exhibit about the Renaissance era. They showed different artifacts, how people used to live back then and the development of arts, science, and society. You were mesmerized, everything looked so interesting until you saw the part they dedicated to Shakespeare and his work. You were now absolutely thrilled. You took Gwilym's hand almost as an impulse and guided him through the hall, telling him everything that you knew about Shakespeare and his marvelous work, even though both of you could read that same information in the exhibition, he preferred listening to you and looking at your face lit up every time you saw one tiny detail that made you remember a new piece of information you had almost forgot about. You realized you were holding hands a while later, you felt your face burn from embarrassment. You tried to let go of his hand, softly mumbling an apology, but Gwilym's hand squeezed yours a little tighter, "Don't worry about it" he said, trying to keep his voice a little lower than usual.
After the museum you guys went for a walk around the city, the museum was near a beautiful park and gorgeous old buildings that thankfully have been taken care of so they still had that charm that almost made you feel you have time-traveled to a completely different century. You ended up in the coffee shop you met a week ago, enjoying the rest of your afternoon talking and discussing Shakespeare and theater. You knew Gwilym was an actor and he looked adorable talking about his job with you, and you couldn't be more entertained with this conversation because theater is something you are passionate about too, it wasn't something common to find a good looking guy that's smart and also has so much in common with you. Then, after hours of conversation and sharing laughs, you two went back to your place since it was getting a little late. 
"Thank you again for the coffee," You said, as you two stood outside your place. 
"It's the least I could do after you were my guide at the museum," He said
There was a moment of silence between the two of you, it wasn't uncomfortable nor comfortable, it was just silence. You felt Gwilym's warmer hand on your cheek, you could see his bright blue eyes were scanning your face until he stopped at your lips just to go back to your eyes. You got closer to him and then you felt his lips on yours. He kissed you softly and sweetly, butterflies were everywhere and you felt weak at your knees. Gwilym couldn't help but let a smile spread across his face as you two kissed. 
And that's how your first valentine's day with Gwilym went. 
Uncountable conversations and a few dates later you guys made it official.
----
Fast forward a year later.
You were working late, sitting on your chair in an empty classroom, decorated with hearts of different colors and a couple of balloons that your students put all over the walls, some had quotes from different poems or love stories your students had read, others had candy heart like messages written on them. The only thing keeping your company during that cold day was a mountain of tests you still had to finish grading and a now cold mug of coffee. You had texted Gwilym during lunch break letting him know that you probably were going to be working late that day in hopes that you wouldn't ruin anything he had planned for that day, the only answer you received was an almost cold "Okay, love you" from him. You kept repeating those three words over and over again. Was he upset? Did you ruin a surprise? you tried to text him again after you finished your last class but you received no answer and you knew that no answer is an answer, too. You were too caught up in your thoughts, trying to finish with those tests when you were interrupted by a knock on your door. 
"Come in!" you said. You saw that familiar chestnut-colored hair and those bright blue eyes you love so much pop in your classroom 
"Excuse miss, I'm looking for the English teacher, I need to talk to her. It is rather urgent," he said letting himself in the classroom. 
"Well, you've come to the right place mister," You said standing up from your desk "This is she," you said as you put your hands on Gwilym's chest.
"Oh good, I have to confess something," He said, trying to look as nervous as he could. "I have a big crush on you miss and uh, I know this is dangerous, but we can try to make this work," He said making you laugh "Gwil! that kind of relationship is forbidden, I can't risk my job for this kind of affair" you said playing along. "But it'll be worth it," He said as he leaned down to kiss you. 
"Hmm now, if you put it like that, then I guess we can try," You said, giving him another little sweet kiss. 
"Happy valentine's day, baby," he said handing you a bouquet of red roses and a cup of hot chocolate. "Oh, thank you, these are beautiful and exactly what I needed," you said receiving the gifts. "Happy valentine's day, my love," you replied. 
"Hey I still need to finish with these," you said pointing to the pile of paper on your desk. "Nonsense, you can work on them tomorrow, today is the day of love," Gwilym said, making a heart shape with his hands. It took you a minute to think about it. You were tired, needed to rest and wanted to go home to spend time with your boyfriend on valentine's day. "Okay, let me grab my stuff," you said, putting away the tests and grabbing your bag and coat. 
You guys went back to your place, Gwilym was carrying a big bag with him that he placed on your kitchen counter. You went to your room to get changed into something more comfortable, Gwilym did the same. He practically lived there so he had many hoodies and sweatpants over there (which you stole once in a while and that day was no exception). 
"What's all this?" you asked inspecting the brown bag. "Well, I thought maybe we could cook dinner and spend the evening watching a movie or two and have a little spa time too," he said showing you a bunch of face masks that he bought. "You're so thoughtful" you almost squealed as you jumped over him, he swiftly picked you up and you started peppering his face with small kisses, making him giggle. 
"I love you so much," he said, looking at you with complete adoration 
"I love you too" you said pinching his cheek.
----
Fast forward to now, two days before your third valentine's day with Gwilym. Well, more like your third valentine's day with Gwilym but your first valentine's day away from each other. He was away because of work, he'd start filming a new movie soon so the producers of the movie had asked the cast to meet so they could read the script, work on costumes and whatnot. You both thought he'd be back for valentine's day but Gwilym was asked to stay for a couple more days. It'll be fine, after all, you didn't need a specific day to celebrate the love you have for one another, right? also, it's always nice to have a "me day" once in a while, right? there are a million things you can do on valentine's day after all, it's literally not a big deal, you kept repeating to yourself. And it's really not a big deal, all those things are true but the idea of giving your boyfriend a surprise was also going through your head and every time you thought about it, you couldn't help but feel excited and happy imagining Gwilym's face when he saw you standing there in front of him right in his hotel room. 
"Fuck it," you said opening your laptop. You booked a ticket to go visit your boyfriend in France. 
Many hours later, you heard the pilot of the plane announcing you're about to land in Paris. 
As soon as you got out of the airport, you took a taxi and told the driver the name of the hotel, and thank god he understood your terrible French.
Almost half an hour later you were outside the hotel and you texted Gwilym to know if he was busy, he told you he's free the rest of the day. 
You: "babe, I was wondering what's your room number? Can you see the Eiffel tower from your room?" You asked, in an attempt to get the information but without being too obvious. 
Gwil: "Oh yes, I'm on the tenth floor, you can see a lot of the city from here, you'd love it" And he attached a picture of the view from his room.
You: "That's beautiful, but what's your specific room number? I read somewhere that hotel rooms with odd numbers have the best views." What a dumb lie you thought 
Gwil: "Hmm they're wrong then, I'm in room 1006 and that's an even number if I remember correctly."
Alright, that's all you needed to know. You went to the elevators and waited patiently until you arrived on the 10th floor. Your heart was racing and the closer you got to room 1006 you felt your heart getting closer to your throat and your pace quickened as you almost trotted down the hall. You knocked on the door twice and heard your boyfriend shout "coming!" from the other side of the door. He opened the door and there he was, the man that you're crazy in love with was there in front of you. 
"Bonjour monsieur," you said, in the best French accent you could. 
"What on earth are you doing here?!" He exclaimed, giving you the tightest hug, lifting you off the ground, spinning you around in a circle.
"Well, I figured I'd be the one giving you a surprise now," you said. He picked your suitcase up and invited you to come in. 
"Well, mission accomplished then," he said sitting on the bed. He tapped the bed, telling you he wanted you near him, you sat next to him but he wanted you to sit on his lap. "You're so beautiful. I've missed you like crazy, you have no idea" Gwilym said in a more serious tone. Your face was very close to his, feeling his breath on your lips. 
"I've missed you terribly too, Gwil" and you kissed him, feeling his familiar scent intoxicate you, feeling his warm hands roaming your body, his soft lips again yours, his stubble slightly scratching your face, or neck, or thighs. His grunts and your moans getting louder as you chased your release, filling room 1006.
After a rather long nap, you woke up just before sunset. You got up and put on Gwilym's hoodie, covering your naked body before you went to the balcony to admire the city you’d soon get the chance to explore with your boyfriend. It was chilly outside but you didn't care, you felt comfortable, looking at this beautiful city. You felt his arms make their way around your waist and a kiss placed on your cheek. 
"Do you like the view?" Gwil asked. 
"Yes, it's beautiful. The picture you sent earlier doesn't do justice, at all" You said, getting closer to Gwil, pressing your back against his chest. 
"Have I ever told you I love you?" He asked
"Hmm, yeah just a couple times," you said, a smile spreading on your face. "Have I told you I love you?" you asked back. 
"Not that I recall," He said kissing the top of your head. 
"Well, Gwilym Lee, I love you and I'm so happy to be in this beautiful city with you," you said turning around to face him. 
"Thank you, baby, for being here with me and giving me the best surprise I've received in probably my whole life," He said cupping your face. "You're the one I want to spend the rest of my valentine's day with" he continued. 
"I'm glad we're on the same page, sweetheart. I love you so much" 
"I love you too," he said before kissing you softly. 
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mnthpprt · 4 years
Text
Chapter 17: The Sound Of Friction
“Where should I put this?” I ask Sebastian. 
During the ride back to the mansion, I explained the ordeal at the coffee house and told him how Arthur had helped me. He was less than impressed, promptly declaring that he would find another vendor of the product that does not display such unacceptable behaviour. I told him how I had met Shakespeare and been invited to a ball, and he said he would let le Comte know so he can get me a proper evening dress.
Upon arriving, I started helped him organize the shopping, which I am still doing now. This sack of flour is the last of it, it seems.
“Up there in the pantry. Make sure it’s high so mice can’t get to it,” he instructs. When I open the cabinet door, he immediately corrects me. “No, no, the other one! To your left.”
I have to climb on a stool in order to push the heavy sack into the shelf. Just when I am about to close the cabinet, I spot a jar of cocoa powder and grab it before jumping down onto the floor.
“I’m making hot chocolate,” I announce. “Would you like some, Seb?”
“No thanks, I still have a lot to do.” He hands me a small pot as I gather the rest of the ingredients, which is easy now that I am better acquainted with their location in the kitchen. “You know who would love some? Mozart. He practically lives off that stuff,” he says. “Now that I think of it, it’s almost his feeding time. Would you mind taking him a bottle of blanc with it?”
“Gotcha.” I haven’t seen the musician since I arrived here, though I know he has not left the mansion because I keep hearing him play. I wouldn’t mind seeing the famous music room for myself, especially given the fact that I have nothing else to do for the rest of the day.
Sebastian leaves to do laundry, leaving me to prepare the hot chocolate. When I finish, I pour it into two cups, and put them both on a tray, along with a bottle of blanc I find on a shelf.
I knock on the door to the music room only for it to open upon my touch. I could swear I just heard Mozart playing as I walked down the hallway, but now he is nowhere to be seen. Taken over by curiosity, I set down the tray on a small side table and slowly approach the piano. It is the most beautiful instrument I have ever seen, pure white and pristine like its owner. Before I know it, my hands are running along its smooth edge. I can’t help but sit on the bench when I spot the music sheet resting above the keys, and with unsure hands, I try to play what little I can decipher.
“Do not touch my piano!” Mozart must have heard me from wherever he was, because barely a few seconds after I played the first note, he barges into the room, frantically barking for me to step away from his precious instrument.
“I’m sorry, you were gone, and-”
“I don’t care,” he rudely interrupts me. “I do not want your filthy hands anywhere near any of my instruments, or my sheet music, or anything at all, for that matter. I knew you would be a bother the moment you stepped into this house.”
My eyes narrow in indignation. Had he been nicer, I would have apologized and vowed to never touch his belongings again, but he’s acting like I chose to be here. Like my sole purpose in life is to be a nuisance. Naturally, this just makes me want to annoy him more, and I know just the way to do it.
I turn back to the piano and, before he has time to protest again, my hands begin gliding over the keys, forming a melody he will surely recognize as his own. The tempo is slightly off, and my fingers slip on a few notes due to the lack of practice, but this is undoubtedly an arrangement of Leck mich im Arcsh. I taught myself how to play this canon in B-flat major when I was a teenager, for no other reason than the fact that I found it hilarious when I learned of it existence. Thank you for the laughs, Mozart, but you can kiss my ass.
To my surprise, he has grown quiet. I stop playing and glance at him over my shoulder only to see a puzzled expression on his face, accompanied by what looks like the faintest hint of a smile. Am I hallucinating right now?
“I am surprised you know that,” he states. His voice is devoid of all trace of emotion, which is quickly disappearing from his face as well. I simply shrug.
“Serves you right for being a mean, stuck up prick,” I say nonchalantly as I get up. “Anyway, I brought you this. You’re welcome.” I reach for the bottle of blanc I was meant to deliver and hand it to him.
“Blanc? No way I am drinking this garbage,” he exclaims, disgusted. Seriously, somebody needs to teach this man some manners.
“Okay, then.” I pick up the tray with the hot drinks still on it and make my way to the door. “No chocolate for you.”
Mozart’s eyes widen at the mention of the sweet drink, and I watch him reluctantly open the bottle and take a sip. The childish resignation on his face makes me laugh, but as promised, I turn around and return the tray to the table, before grabbing my own cup and sitting on the single armchair next to it. He quickly downs the blanc and exchanges the empty bottle for the hot chocolate.
“It’s... good,” he says after trying it. I suppose that is the closest I’ll get to a “thank you” from him.
“Uh-huh. Sebastian told me you liked it, so I made you some, because I am a nice person who doesn’t deserve to be yelled at like that.” I raise my eyebrows and proceed to punctuate that statement by sipping my chocolate, but I almost spit it out when he speaks again.
“Your playing was awful.”
He is not exactly wrong, but I casually give him the middle finger. I doubt he knows what it means, because he briefly looks at me and completely ignores the obscene gesture before sitting on the piano bench. He begins playing the exact same melody, and I am not sure if it’s his way of telling me to fuck off of if he just wants to show me how it’s done properly. Either way, he makes it sound incredibly and ironically beautiful, and I soon find myself enjoying just watching him play.
Halfway through the canon, he seamlessly changes to a new melody, one I have never heard before. It could be one of his lesser known pieces, but seeing the neatly stacked papers on every flat surface I am inclined to believe it is a new composition. 
I relax into the plush comfort of the armchair and close my eyes. I think Mozart has already forgotten I am there, but I don’t mind in the slightest. I enjoy listening to his music, and I am happy to find out my presence does not bother him as much as he led me to believe.
Eventually, someone knocks on the door. It is hard to tell how long I’ve stayed in this position, but it has been a good while since I finished my chocolate. Mozart stops playing and gets up to open.
“Sorry to interrupt, Wolf, but-” Jean’s eye lands on me, lounging in the back. I raise my eyebrow at the nickname, but I guess it makes sense that those two are friends. I can picture them being quietly judgemental together. “Anaïs. You’re here too,” he softly states, surprised. I smile and give him a little wave. “Le Comte wants to see you both.”
Mozart and I look at each other. I assume he is as intrigued as I am, although his face is completely expressionless, unlike my own. He silently nods and exits the room with Jean. I follow, and we part ways with the soldier to walk to le Comte’s study.
The door is open when we arrive, clearly awaiting us. I sit across from le Comte’s desk, and Mozart stands beside me. The nobleman acknowledges us with a solemn nod and a smile full of old world charm.
“Anaïs,” he finally speaks. “Sebastian tells me you have been invited to a ball, correct?” I nod. I wonder what this has to do with Mozart. “It is my understanding that Mozart here will be performing at the same event. He needs a suitable companion for someone of his status, and I think you would be perfect for the occasion, ma chérie.”
Well, that explains it. And I do not like it one bit. Mozart and I exchange another look, his face mirroring the indignation on my own this time. He opens his mouth to protest, but is cut off by le Comte.
“You both need companions for the same ball, yes? This is the best solution to this problem. Any reasonable adult could see that.” His tone is almost fatherly, full of gentle authority. Damnit, I can’t say no to him. I sigh, defeated by the way he looks at me.
“Ugh, fine! I’ll do it,” I give in. “But only because I intended to go anyway.”
Mozart takes longer to answer, but eventually cracks too.
“Remember our deal, Comte. You owe me. And you,” he turns to me, “you better learn how to dance properly. I will not be humiliated by my companion’s lack of etiquette.” There it is. That stupid mean attitude of his. I was beginning to wonder where it went.
I roll my eyes, and he purposefully storms off. With Mozart gone, I turn to le Comte, and give him a pleading look that practically says “why are you doing this to me?”.
“Well, that was disappointing. And terribly awkward, you know he is not the easiest person to get along with.”
“Forgive me, ma chérie,” le Comte laughs. “You two arrived together. Were you having an argument?”
“Something like that,” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I touched his piano.”
“Oh my. I am glad to see you made it out alive and well, in that case,” he jokes. “You know, I had to bribe him with a new bench just for him to agree to perform. The host of the ball is a dear friend of mine, and he has been begging me to invite Mozart on his behalf ever since he heard one of his new pieces. Of course, he knows him by a different name.”
That explains the mention of their deal. In the few days I have been here, I have not seen Mozart so much as step outside of his room, so it does not surprise me that he needs to be bribed in order to leave the mansion at all.
“Speaking of friends,” I change the topic, “Sebastian must have told you I met Shakespeare today. Did something happen between you two?”
“Well...” le Comte begins, leaning back into his chair. “We have our differences, but I am his sire, after all, and I care for him dearly. He simply decided he did not wish to live here anymore, so now he has his own house in the outskirts of Paris,” he explains. “Vincent visits him quite frequently. They are good friends.”
Of course Vincent would be the one to befriend the playwright. Much like the sunflowers he paints, that man is the physical embodiment of a ray of sunshine.
“Back to the ball, however... I must get you a gown fit for a princess, ma chérie. Do you have a particular style in mind?” he inquires.
“I trust your good taste, Comte,” I shake my head with a smile, but I perk up as something occurs to me. “Actually, there is something...” I unbutton the cuff of my sleeve and roll it up as far as I can, exposing the tattoos that litter my pale skin. “Anything that can cover these. They go pretty high up, so sleeves and gloves, maybe? I am not very familiar with the evening fashion of this time.”
Le Comte’s eyes widen at the sight of the dark ink on my arm, reminding me that he had not seen them until now, not to this extent. To be fair, the sleeves of my chemise covered most of them when he assisted with tying my corset.
“Gloves will do just perfectly,” he declares. “The very long ones are quite the trend with the ladies, nowadays.” 
“Great.” I roll my sleeve back down, and catch him staring intently. The way he watches me is reverent, rather than uncomfortable. I can tell he is simply admiring the tattoos, but he refrains from voicing his curiosity, I presume to avoid being indiscrete. “Thank you, Comte.”
“It is my pleasure, ma chérie,” he smiles.
Before I leave, I stop to look at the large hourglass in the corner. The pile of sand at the bottom has become the slightest bit taller since I arrived, but most of it remains the same, what looks like an eternity resting on the top portion of the glass, barely trickling down.
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lovewithlou · 3 years
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larry17 questions, 17 people
i was tagged by @ishipmutualrespect​ and LOVE, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I ADORE YOU FOR IT. I love doing these so much! Thank you x
nicknames: nikki, bubba, bonky, lestat 
zodiac: sagittarius
height: 5’4
hogwarts house: Okay this one is a TOPIC because I’ve taken the quiz (I know, you’re only supposed to take it ONCE LEAVE ME ALONE) and I shit you not i have gotten every single house. HOWEVER the latest time i got gryffindor and last time i was in london, i got my photo taken as a slytherin so?? idk i feel like i have a lot of qualities of both lmao i hate it here
last thing i googled: eddie van halen because I just found out he passed away today, which is really tragic. I grew up with classic rock music and eddie was a huge musical influence on me as a child
song stuck in my head: currently? good times bad times by led zeppelin
number of followers: WELL, this is a side blog, and i have a bunch of side blogs for random shit like shows and films and other fandoms, so it probably seems like i have a hell of a lot more than i really should. nevertheless, that is a secret and one of my favourite things about tumblr <3
amount of sleep: i have insomnia and can never get a full night’s sleep. ever. lmao. TOTAL per night is probably around two hours if i’m lucky, it’s actually had a huge impact on my memory. 0/10 would not recommend.
lucky number: 6, technically 66 but we will go with 6. (66 was my dad’s favourite player’s number from the Packers who we named our dog after etc and it’s stuck with me. reminds me of my family and I use it for everything i can lmao)
dream job: touring concert photographer!!
wearing: orange, white, and blue striped tee with some bluejeans
favorite song: go your own way by fleetwood mac has always been my go-to #1 favourite, but close contenders are over the hills and far away by led zeppelin, ready to run and defenceless (i’m sure if you’re reading this on this blog, chances are, you know those two lmaooo)
favorite instrument: cello and piano <3
aesthetic: golden hour, grainy photographs, laughter, high-top shoes, strong smells of cologne or perfume that people leave in their wake, hot tea with just a little bit of milk, when the sun casts long shadows, denim jackets, the way the air is crisp, silent, and sharp during autumn, songs playing so loud and the feeling when you can just dance to them, the way the moon, sun, and stars make us so small 
favorite author: this is going to sound REALLY cliche and dumb, but shakespeare. as a writer myself, i take inspiration from him every single day. also jrr tolkien and f.scott fitzgerald. tender is the night is underrated and can’t forget gatsby :’)
favorite animal noises: when dogs do the sniffing thing. like repeatedly when they shove their cold nose into everything!!!! also, i really like elephants and all of the sounds they make. precious.
random: today is my only day off of the week, and i’m currently listening to my spotify discover weekly as I always do on tuesdays. I have infinite things I have to do today, and i’m a bit stressed out. it’s already past 3, and I feel as though I’ve wasted most of my day which makes everything worse lmao. ANYWAYS, I’m editing photos I took for someone the other day and feeling inadequate. I also am planning on some tattoos i want to get soon, and as I do every day, I’m planning my move across the pond next december. ALSO im editing playlists. i make too many of them i need help. someone message me lmao let’s be friends
I am absolute SHIT at tagging people, so if I tag you and you’ve already done it or whatever just disregard. otherwise if it’s annoying that i tagged you, you can disregard! x
@adorelou-28​ @larryincottagecore @just-a-person-tryna-live @voguelarry28 
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mydemimonde · 5 years
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challenge accepted | b.h
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warnings: smut at its finest
word count: 1000+
-
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue
You were laying on bed, reading a poem book you bought on the local library a few blocks away from the apartment you shared with Ben, mug of hot coffee in your hand. You felt the side of your bed sink, Ben's body pressing slightly against yours. He placed his hand on your thigh, caressed it softly and started peppering kisses on your neck.
“Ben” you moved your head away, hoping he’ll get the sign.
“Come on babe. I miss you”
You smiled. “I’m right here” you replied, eyes still on the book.
“I don’t mean it in that way…” he whispered in your ear and bit your earlobe slightly. That sent shivers down your spine, but you were so invested in the book that you weren’t in the mood. You ignored him and kept reading the poem, he continued his assault on your neck and when you weren’t reciprocating, he started touching your boobs.
“Ben!” you protested. “What do you want?”
“I want to fuck!”
“Wow. Subtle. Truly a gentleman” you rolled your eyes.
“Y/N please, we haven’t had sex in weeks”
“That’s a lie, and you know it! We had sex like three days ago”
“That’s a lot!” he complained like a 5-year old boy; he was almost pouting. “Please, love. I’m gonna be away in two weeks”
“Ben, you know how much I love you and I really enjoy having sex with you, but this book is amazing. Can’t you just wait a little till I finish it?”
He looked at the ceiling, eyes squinted as if he was thinking deeply. He smirked and looked back at you. “How about a challenge?”
“Challenge?” you furrowed your eyebrows.
“You read this damn book while I fuck you”
You chuckled. “Are you high or something?”
“Sounds funny, huh? Seeing how long you can last reading a book while I take you?”
“It sounds silly!”
“Oh, I get it, I know what it is… my girlfriend is a chicken” he teased.
“Shut up Hardy” you softly hit his shoulder.
“Poor baby is afraid of losing” he mocked at you, tickling you a little.
“Okay, okay! Stop!” you begged while laughing. “Challenge accepted”
His eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Yes, let’s do it. If I win, you have to give me a full spa day”
“I accept your conditions. If I win, we have a sex marathon”
“Oh my God…” you chuckled. “I accept”
“Let’s do this”
He took off his shirt, tossing it to the side of the bed. He turned to you and attacked your mouth, shoving his tongue too. You felt his crotch against your thigh. Boy, he’s horny. You kissed him back and started unzipping his jeans, palming him through his boxers. He moaned in your mouth and immediately attacked your neck while you smartly took his pants off. 
“You are the death of me babe” he whispered while taking your blouse off, setting your boobs free. Suddenly you felt a little self-conscious. Your boobs weren’t as big as you would want to. But Ben, being the gentleman he is, made you feel confident every time you made love. He kissed and massaged your chest, making eye contact with you and making you feel loved and appreciated.
He removed your panties as fast as he could, almost ripping them off. He flipped you over in a matter of seconds and peppered kisses all over your back. “I’m not hearing you read”. Oh shit. You totally forgot about that. You took the book in your hands and started looking for the page.
“Love sonnet 147. My love is as a fever, longing still, for that which longer nur- fuck!” you screamed as he entered you completely, making you almost drop the book. He stayed still, caressing your back and letting out a sigh. You took a deep breath and continued reading, he started moving. “Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, th' uncertain sickly appetite to please. My reason, the physician to my love…” it was hard for you to concentrate on the poem, he was fucking you so good. Yet you wanted to win this challenge, so you did your best to read the whole thing. His hands gripped your waist, you gripped the book harder and continued.
“Desire is death, which physic did except. Past cure I am, now reason is past care- oh my God!” you moaned while his finger started stimulating your clit. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his finger on you.
“What happened to Shakespeare, huh?” he half-moaned and you swore you could hear him smiling. Fucking bastard. 
“And frantic-mad with evermore unrest; My thoughts and my discourse as mad men's are, at random from the truth vainly expressed.” He sped up and his pressure on your clit increased. “Oh, fuck this shit” you threw your book to the side of your bed and decided that the spa didn’t matter anymore.  “Pull my hair” you commanded, and he obliged. “Hmm, yes daddy” you bit your lip as he groaned, that always get him going. 
“Shit stop doing that or I’ll cum” he grunted when he felt your walls clench around him.
“What, this?” you teased and did it again. He slapped your ass and you had to grasp the sheets. “Harder” you begged, and he started thrusting you harder than before. “Spank me harder Ben”
“Are you sure?” he asked a little worried.
“Yes, I’m not gonna break” you assured him, and he spanked you harder. You’d have to apologize to your neighbours tomorrow because of how loud you screamed.
“You’re so tight babe. You’re taking me so good” his hand on your neck, almost choking you, the sound of skin slapping skin and his hard thrusts combined were getting you to your orgasm. “Come on, cum over my dick” you came and collapsed on his dick, letting out a high-pitched scream. He followed seconds after with a moan of your name, staying there for a minute trying to catch his breath. He pulled out of you carefully and left kisses all over your back. He massaged your legs because of how shaky they were and put his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace. “Are you okay?”
Still a little high from that amazing orgasm he gave you, you smiled and hugged him closer. “Yes honey” you kissed his chest and then looked at him: he had that soft smile he always has whenever he’s looking at you. And you felt the luckiest girl in the world. “I’m so lucky to have you with me”
“No, I’m the lucky one. I love you”. He kissed your temple for a while. “Now, let’s talk about my prize”
“And of course you had to ruin this beautiful moment, huh?"
“Not my fault you lost the bet!”
-
a/n: this wasn't as dirty as i wanted it to be, but im planning on writing something about the sex marathon ben proposed here 👀 what do you think?
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greenishbucket · 4 years
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good vibez only
Perhaps it’s not in like, the festive spirit or whatever, but Dex refuses to feel shame in reactivating and skimming through his array of dating apps the second his flight gets delayed.
nursey/dex, tindering in an airport au, 1.6k. For @ellienchanted! thanks for the help with this and happy new year :D on ao3
Perhaps it’s not in like, the festive spirit or whatever, but Dex refuses to feel shame in reactivating and skimming through his array of dating apps the second his flight back to New York gets delayed. What else is he going to do? Read a book? Talk to the people around him? Not likely.
And like, he’s just maybe been feeling slightly more desperately alone than usual, after the holiday period spent with family. His parents were his parents and even his shithead brother had been lovey-dovey with his admittedly very nice girlfriend, not to even mention the bloodbath that was social media.
It’s only midday on New Year’s Eve, but Dex can sense in his old-man bones that it’s already ramping back up again after a few days of quiet after Christmas. Picturesque, loving content as far as a guy can scroll, most likely.
Not that Dex is bitter. He has friends, has love in his life and shit. He’s on his way home to show his face at Ford's party, after all. Except the plan is to prove he didn’t die en route, get smashed as efficiently as possible, then probably get kissed platonically by six people at midnight because his friends are like that, before ultimately heading home alone and passing out alone.
Dex is, in short, just acutely fucking aware of his singleness right now.
In the heart sense and in the dick sense, unfortunately. Whatever. He’s got a few boring hours stretching ahead of him; even if he doesn’t match with or message any of the many dudes he can swipe through, at least a good twenty percent of them are hot enough to pause for a whole second.
One guy, after some fifteen minutes of mindless, semi-horny swiping, warrants more time than that.
He has a tattoo. It wraps around his very nice bicep and Dex’s mouth goes dry. His name is Derek, and he has a couple shirtless pics, a hockey one, a few ones Dex figures are trying to convey culture – museums and art and like, sweeping landscapes – and ends it with a meme.
Which is like. It’s kind of funny, and this dude is super hot, but really? But also he is so, so hot. In like, a hot way, and in a beautiful way, so Dex can at least entertain the idea of their boning. Then Dex reads Derek’s bio:
‘what i want is what i’ve always wanted. what i want is to be changed.’ im pretty and my meat is huge. good vibez only, no haters ✌️
Dex doesn’t smile a little. He doesn’t. He definitely just rolls his eyes hard and swipes left. That quote. He doesn’t have the patience, not even for someone that looks like that.
“Ouch,” says a voice from over his shoulder. “Hard no for that one?”
Because of course, because his flight is delayed and the drive to the airport had been shit anyway, because of course – it’s the dude. He’s not just nearby, he’s literally right there. Derek. Sitting in the row of seats backed up against Dex’s, twisted round to watch over Dex’s shoulder in a flagrant disregard of like, normal fucking behaviour, and somehow even hotter in the gross airport lighting. He’s doing some kind of smirk thing that Dex isn’t into at all.
His voice is like– It’s nice. Dude has a nice voice.
And of course, instinctively, result of being a grumpy fuck since birth and years in the big city, Dex’s immediate response is, “Fuck off, asshole.” Then, back up instinct, result of his mom’s loving care and years in a small town, he adds, “Shit, sorry, that was- I didn’t mean- um.”
Derek’s smirk solidifies. Something natural rather than an expression he’s holding there, not that Dex would’ve recognised it wasn’t completely assured and legit until then. “No worries, man. It’s chill. Sexy pic with the lobster, though.”
-
Nursey absolutely, completely, fucking two thousand percent should not have said anything. He’d almost be surprised at himself, watching this whole thing happen out of body, except this is the least surprising behaviour from him ever. Like he’s ever been able to let a minor hurt pass without poking at it until it’s something unbearable and he has to nope out like that’d been his plan all along.
Whatever. It’s chill. He’s got this. They’re in an airport, so Nursey can nope out whenever he likes, and more effectively than usual. It’s going to be fun.
“Excuse me?” says Will.
Will, who Nursey had first noticed for his massive ears and exhausted vibes, then absently clocked as attractive, and then clocked some minutes later as the same dude whose profile he’d just come across. Will who Nursey had just swiped right on, though not before screencapping his profile and sending it to Chowder, captioned ‘a straight???’
Like. Okay. Nursey doesn’t want to stereotype, or whatever, tries really hard not to, but when a dude sees a bio like I'm Will. I like hockey and lobster-fishing and good beer. We should get to know each other? He's not proud of it but questions start arising.
“Sexy pic with the lobster,” Nursey repeats. It had been, honestly, in a kind of weird display-of-masculinity way that Nursey doesn’t want to unpack right then but definitely would with some weed.
“Thank you?” says Will. A pause. “Are you making fun of me?”
“No,” Nursey replies honestly. But that feels like some kind of defeat, because this guy is cute and freckly and like, certainly has hands, but he also just dismissed Nursey’s careful construction of self while Nursey watched, so he continues, “I mean, I’m a vegetarian? So I kind of do disagree with the concept of trapping and killing an innocent animal for your own consumption, or whatever.”
Will snorts. “Of course.”
Nursey’s stomach sinks. He should’ve known. Pretty eyes or not, it wasn’t going to be fun with a guy who is a self-proclaimed hockey and good beer fan. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” says Will.
Nursey doesn’t want to get into a full-blown argument in the middle of an airport, so he lets it drop. But he also doesn’t want to sit here in awkward silence or have to get up and haul all his shit over to somewhere else. “So, while we're both sitting here, any pointers for improvement?” he asks instead.
“What?”
“For my profile, dude. Gotta up my game, clearly.”
"Why?"
"Self-improvement is my new year's resolution," Nursey replies easily, only half-lying; it's been his new year's resolution for like, five years straight, whatever. "I'll start: you need a better bio, or just scrap the whole thing. You're just about cute enough to pull it off, but it does you zero favours, dude. Bland as fuck."
Will goes pale, then red, then says, "What the fuck? Who asked?" Nursey waits, unsure if he should keep pushing or if he's maybe crossed a line, and after a long moment or two Will sighs. “Okay, fine, I hate doing description things and I'm shit at it. But yours also sucks. You could try with less of the pretentious quote shit, for one thing.”
“Less Mary Szybist?” Nursey asks, only having to up his aghastness a little. “Mine does not suck. I’m trying to convey an inner sensitivity, bro. Poetry is a window to the soul.”
Will frowns. “I thought that was eyes.”
His frown is cute. Shit. “First, a little thing called poetic license? Second, you said I was pretentious.”
“It’s Shakespeare,” Will says, unimpressed. “You didn’t do Shakespeare in high school?”
“Sure,” Nursey agrees, “but clearly it didn’t stick,” which is a lie. “Haiku, though. That’s the good shit.”
“What?”
“In my bio. It’s a haiku, five-seven-five syllables?”
Will visibly goes through Nursey’s bio, mouthing out the words, which, hey. It left an impression, at least. “That’s not five-seven-five,” he says.
“I’m pretty and my / meat is huge. Chill vibez only / no haters. Peace sign,” Nursey recites easily, clapping the syllables out like they taught in elementary school.
Will snorts out a laugh and can’t quite seem to reign his face back into looking unimpressed. Nursey smiles back and can’t quite reign that in either. The bitterness from watching Will swipe past him seeps almost entirely away at last, Nursey finally able to unfold his arm from around his stomach; Will’s shoulders come down from around his ears, too.
“Um. I did actually like your photos,” he says after a moment, almost hesitant, those same ears flaming. “Like, a lot."
"Ditto," says Nursey, as casual as he can. Will is pretty great in pics, if unfortunately blind to his angles, and even better plus assholeish irl, which is a beauty of a combination.
"But you’re cheating your syllables with that peace sign bit, pretty sure,” Will adds.
Nursey rolls his eyes, ignores the warm glow. Not a straight, definitely. And Will thinks his pics are good, at least, which is a success of sorts. He doesn't know what flight Will is getting, but his own back to NYC has been delayed by a few hours, so maybe he should try and shoot his shot one last time.
He chucks his stuff over to Will's side of the chair-row, then hauls himself over. Pulls his sweater back down. Fuck this twisting around in his seat nonsense.
Will blinks, face pink. "Hi," he says, a little hoarse.
“I think you mean bye. I said no haters, didn't I?”
Will laughs again, full and warm this time. “Fuck off, asshole,” he says, and this time Nursey laughs with him.
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sentfromwolves · 4 years
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oc prompt game .  ( queen of the meadows. uselessness / mars & laurel ) 
< hoes b4 bros >
hwa: mom
hwa: mom
hwa: mom
starmom: son wuat the fuck its 4am
hwa: o fuck i forgot timezones again
hwa: wait
hwa: why r u up ! !!  
hwa: MOM
hwa: go 2 SLEEP
starmom: no now im here and awake and alive enough whats up son
hwa: mom we need an intervention (go 2 sleep)
starmom: jesus christ
starmom: for who
hwa: mars said he wants 2 marry the dude from his plant class (seriously!! GO. TO. BED)
starmom: that class started literally 2 days ago
hwa: I KNO!!!!! (pls, mom, for the love of everyone around u and also me, get some sleep)
aspen groans and rolls over in his bed, peeling himself away from his sheets and staring groggily at his phone. it’s not unlike mars to get fleeting, would-be crushes on other green witches in his classes. usually he’ll ogle them for a day or two, wax poetic about their ass, and then move on. he’s a tall kid with a heart of goddamn gold, and wears every single emotion he ever owns on his sleeve. it’s caused trouble more than once, but generally he’s pretty good about loving, and realistic expectations, and knowing that you can’t marry a guy you met two days ago. frozen proved that much, if nothing else.
still, he cracks open the door to his room and sidles down the hall and peeks up the stairs. there’s no movement, but something clinks in the kitchen that connects to the living room, and he ambles in that direction, wondering what he’ll find. maybe yonghwa had also been texting cobalt, who is a habitual night owl. maybe cobalt is also in on this intervention thing too. after all, their witch bonds are stronger than most. when one of them feels something too strongly and doesn’t clamp down on it, often times the others will feel it too. and aspen knows that most of them have been feeling pretty ecstatic over the last few days, the stress mitigated by the unbridled adrenaline and raw energy of diving back into classes, into a sea of new faces and old as the new semester cracks open like an eggshell suspended above all of their heads.
what he finds isn’t cobalt hunched over the fridge with three popsicles sticking out of his mouth (a regular occurrence during summer). what he finds is mars draped over the living room couch holding his hand over his forehead dramatically, a spoon hanging from his fingers and a half-empty jar of gelato (his gelato, aspen realizes with a little bit of exasperation), looking like he’s ready to be painted by a young leonardo dicaprio.
“um,” aspen says, “you okay in there, buddy?”
“aspen,” mars says. “can you marry a guy you just met?”
goddamn it. they really do need an intervention.
“no, mars,” aspen says with all the patience of a man who just woke up at 4am because his witch family are being dumbasses. “you can’t marry someone you just met.”
“fuck,” mars says, and sits up. “okay, plan b.”
“plan b?”
“i’m gonna ask him on a date.” mars looks fiercely determined. so determined, in fact, that aspen breaks out into a laugh that threatens to wake cobalt up from his dead slumber upstairs.
“what?!” mars demands, his voice pitching high. “what’s so funny?”
“it’s just,” aspen says. “no, you know what? i’m not even going to say it. okay, so you’re gonna ask - “
“hot greenhouse man,” mars says dreamily.
“you’re gonna ask hot greenhouse man on a date,” aspen says. “cool. and how are you gonna do that?”
mars face drains of all color. because for all of his open-hearted adoration for people, his poetic compliments, his easily obtained sincerity, mars has never asked a person out before in his life. in the realm of dating, he’s as good as useless, and aspen’s gonna let him flounder a bit in the blind, desperate hope that he learns how to swim.
“i’m,” mars says, sputters, and says again, “i’m gonna figure that out. right. now.”
“cool,” aspen says, planning for the inevitability of mars chickening out by the time the sun has risen in the sky. “i’m going back to bed while you do that. wake me up when there’s breakfast being made.”
mars, in fact, wakes him up later on when breakfast is (rather poorly) made.
he also tells him that he knows hot greenhouse mans name courtesy of one of his rather nosy, gossipy friends.
his name is laurel. and aspen is worried he’s going to break mars heart.
***
aspen doesn’t have to worry for long.
the moment he meets laurel, he knows that this is as good as fate crashing into his living room floor and starting a forest fire. laurel has the fucking heart eyes of the century every time mars back is turned, and for all of their early floundering, he’s a good soul with a cute smile and (currently) light blue hair that fluffs up to minty green whenever he gets excited or happy.
however, there is one big problem. the biggest fucking problem in aspens world. something that keeps him up late at night, staring at his ceiling, asking the universe how two people can be so stupid that it’s almost funny for everyone involved except it really isn’t because how is he, the good samaritan stuck between a rock and two love-struck people so dumb about the feelings of the other that they don’t even know how to act, supposed to sleep soundly when he can’t knock the minute amount of sense into his best friends head to do the right thing?
the right thing, of course, being to ask one another on a date.
“three months,” yonghwa says on the phone with him one night. “aspie, it’s been three months and neither of them have asked each other out?”
“i know,” aspen moans, hitting his head against his desk, hands in the air. “i know! they’re both like, oh wow, look at this beautiful friend i made. and then mars waves him out of the house, turns around, and starts screaming because he’s so fucking in love! how can he not just - just ask him out? how is this hard?”
“listen,” yonghwa says, “i’ve seen one whole picture of them together and i don’t think i’ve ever seen someone look at mars the way laurel looks at mars. that guys whipped. and he’s not even gonna ask him out?”
“they’re dense, hwa,” aspen bemoans, lifting his head. “dense as bricks. denser than bricks. it’s like the cauldron gave them all the good looks in the world and then was like, hey you know what? good looks? well then i guess you can’t have any braincells around each other!”
“could you,” yonghwa asks, “could you like, give them a nudge? a push? a kick in the ass? throw them off a cliff.”
“i’ve tried everything,” aspen says, and looks up at his computer screen. yonghwa is bent over, painting his toenails as he speaks, the glittery polish he’s using apparently magically scented with blackberries and vanilla. “i straight up said, now is your chance mars, go ask him out! and he just looked at me like this deer in headlights. what if he says no, he said. what kind of bullshit!”
“useless,” yonghwa says, blowing on his big toe. the enchanted blow dryer aspen had sent him for christmas dances around his head, drying out his recently dyed silver-purple hair. “i wish i was there. i would just do it for them.”
“i wish you were here too,” aspen says, breaking from his complaints to let his words flow with genuine fondness. “i’m excited for when i can finally have you back here for real. i miss you.”
“i miss you too, aspie,” yonghwa says, and smiles up at him through the camera. “it’s only a while longer. and then the whole family will be together.”
“not quite,” aspen grumbles. “laurel should be part of this family. hell, he spends enough time over here that he should be on my chore wheel.”
“ah yes, the chore wheel,” yonghwa says sagely. “you should just add him. maybe they’ll finally get the hint.”
“no,” aspen says. “they’re both fools in love. i really don’t know what to do.”
yonghwa tilts his head thoughtfully.
“maybe,” he says, “they just need to suffer a bit more, and then they’ll figure it all out.”
“maybe,” aspen replies, but he really doesn’t think so, but he pulls all of his blind hope and shoves it into that one, tiny word.
***
one month later, aspen snaps.
it starts on a friday afternoon, when he hears the door bang open and closed, and a wail reaches his room where he’s trying desperately to finish a lit essay while talking with emerson about latin translations and books that he wants to set on fire.
“i gotta go,” aspen says, glancing behind him at his door.
“gotcha,” emerson, “wanna come over and dramatically recite shakespeare with me while i pretend to care about grading these papers?”
“please,” aspen says, “i think i’ll need it.”
“cocoa or tequila?” emerson asks knowingly. “or do you want some sort of bliss tonic? I think we have some leftover from the party.”
“cocoa,” aspen says, “i love you. talk to you later.”
“doors unlocked!” emerson calls after him before he ends the call.
in another life, aspen thinks, he’d ask emerson out on a date. but harper is madly in love with him, and aspen is madly in love with harper, and so he stays out of both of their paths, knowing better than to get in the way of something that could be wonderful for the two of them.
sighing, aspen closes his laptop, stands up, and prepares for the worst.
mars is on the kitchen floor.
aspen fights two spontaneously grown thorn bushes, a snapper plant that descended from the ceiling to eat his hair, and three rows of angry, bushy cactuses that have since surrounded the open dishwasher and its surroundings with all the grace he can muster.
mars doesn’t so much as move or bat an eyelash at him when he comes to stand at his head. he’s face down on the granite, arms splayed out in front of him, and he looks, quite frankly, like he’s just keeled over and died in the middle of the day.
aspen does the nice thing.
he kicks him (gently) in the head.
mars lets out a pathetic cry.
“what happened,” aspen says, and it’s not a question.
the only other time mars poisoned the whole kitchen with toxic plants, it had been because someone had called him a giraffe and he’d cried all the way home. he’d been seventeen at the time.
mars rolls over onto his back and stars up at aspen. he’s on the verge of tears.
“oh my god,” aspen says, crouching down. “baby.”
“aspen,” mars croaks. “i’m a dumb person.”
“oh my god,” aspen says. “no you’re not, mars. tell me what’s wrong.”
he sits down gingerly, ignoring the cactuses around them, and mars scoots up a little so he’s laying with his head in aspens lap as aspen brushes his fingers through the boys hair.
“i really like laurel,” mars says, like it hasn’t been painfully obvious for four months now. “like, really, really like him.”
“yes,” aspen says. “i know.”
“cool,” mars replies, staring glassy eyed at the ceiling. “so today, i go into the greenhouse early because like, i’m planning to give him this cactus i found down at the gardens to laurel, because the needles don’t hurt at all and make little bubbles when you tickle the head.”
“okay,” aspen says.
“and there he is,” mars says, lifting his hands to the ceiling like he’s looking at heaven and laurel is up there somewhere too. “beautiful. haloed in light. perfect. the most amazing guy i’ve ever been blessed with. and he’s getting kissed by some other dude.”
okay, that’s a hold up. laurel? kissing another man?
“are you sure?” aspen asks.
laurel has been madly in love with mars for months. this story doesn’t make any sense.
“yes!” mars exclaims. “like, the cutest fucking gesture and he’s just sitting there, laughing as it happens! and i’m sitting there with this stupid cactus like, oh! that’s why he never asked me out. he must’ve been like, dating this hot dude this entire time and was just taking - what, i don’t know - pity on me or something! i look stupid.”
mars actually wails at this.
“i’m a dumbass!”
aspen frowns.
“no,” he says, leaning down to kiss mars forward. “you’re absolutely not a stupid person, mars. you’re the best, sweetest, greatest person i know. and if that’s really true - which i’m not saying it is - then laurel is missing out on something incredible.”
“but i don’t want him to miss out,” mars says, and sobs.
“i know,” aspen says, immediately planning either murder or the biggest fucking Mom Talk he’s ever going to have in his life. “i know, baby. you’re the best thing i’ve ever had in my life. and you deserve the stars.”
***
the stars hiss at aspen the moment laurel makes it into their front garden, telling him hurriedly that the boy he’s been waiting on to arrive is finally here.
aspen checks his watch.
cool, three hours since mars breakdown.
enough time for aspen to school all of his emotions into neat little lines and prepare for whatever the fuck is about to happen downstairs. as requested, cobalt is diligently distracting mars upstairs with video games and an ongoing call with yonghwa, who’s hollering memes at them while dancing to the ponytail song aggressively.
aspen goes downstairs and opens the door.
laurel is standing on his porch looking wildly out of breath.
“is mars here?” he asks, all of his words blending together into one massive slur.
“amazing,” aspen replies. “you’re both useless.”
laurel freezes.
“um,” he says, very eloquently. which is great, because aspen doesn’t have time for him to go on any sort of ramble that dodges the point. aspen’s nonexistent love life might be a hot garbage fire that he’s given up controlling, but he’s not about to let mars go down in flames over what he hopes and prays is a misunderstanding of cosmic proportions.
“no,” aspen says, shutting laurel’s mouth with an audible click. “nope. don’t talk, laurel. it’s my turn. i get to talk now. mars is upstairs, by the way. my kitchen is a nightmare. and if this conversation doesn’t go right, i’m going to make you clean every single cactus out of my dishwasher before you leave.”
“what?” laurel asks, dumbly.
“listen to me very carefully,” aspen says. “mars likes you a lot. he might even love you, and for mars, that’s a monumental thing. he’s wanted to ask you out since he met you. he’s so far down the rabbit hole of affection for you that i don’t think his heart has room for literally anything else.”
laurel sits there gaping like a fish out of water. jesus christ - had he really been so dumb?
aspen tries to boil down every strand of exasperation in him.
“today,” he says, “even after months of friendship, you kissed someone else in front of him.”
“i - what?”
“don’t ‘i - what’ me, mars was crying on my kitchen floor for two hours because of this,” aspen says. “if you really didn’t notice that he was madly interested in you and you were just wanting to be friends, then i might be able to forgive that when mars recovers. and that’s a big if. but if you were leading him on, thinking it was cute to have him fawn over you while stringing him along, i will personally - “
“waitwaitwait,” laurel says, loudly, holding out his hands. “wait, aspen! please!”
aspen frowns at him, in what he hopes is his best scolding mom stare.
“you have five seconds,” he says, “go.”
“this is a whole, big, wild misunderstanding!” laurel says, so loudly his voice has to carry out through the whole house. “the guy that kissed me was one of my old frat brothers! he was just coming by to say hi! he’s got a girlfriend and a boyfriend for godsake! it was just - just platonic. i don’t feel that way about anyone but mars! i’ve wanted to marry that guy for months now. literally marry him! i’ll even get down on one knee - “
laurel is jumping down onto the ground before aspen can stop him, even as he rushes forward, trying to stop this mess of a man from also destroying his house with blooms of crazy fucking plants. he can already see the dirt around his front yard sifting, little tendrils of greenery poking on through.
“laurel!” aspen says, loudly. “laurel, please - “
“i love him!” laurel shouts. “please, aspen. i really love him! can i see him? i can explain it all, really, i just want to see - “
“laurel?”
aspen turns around.
mars is standing in the hallway, illuminated in the soft gold of the fairy lights floating around the ceiling, swimming like snakes above their heads.
he looks stunned and a little bit awkward, his massive cardigan slouching off of his shoulders, hair a mess, eyes tear-streaked and nose rudolf-red.
“mars,” laurel says, from his kneeling position in front of aspen. “mars.”
he stands up and aspen moves out of the way. laurel crosses the hall to mars and without hesitation, takes mars face in his hands and kisses him hard on the mouth.
aspen feels like he’s part of a korean drama. he thinks he must be at the season finale, because how could anything in his life get more dramatic than this?
“oh my god,” cobalt says from the stairway, holding his phone up and videotaping the entire thing. “they really are useless in love.”
aspen knows he should say something, because the whole hallway is filling with cherry blossoms and red roses, massive lilies and blooming sunflowers. but for a moment, he just sits down hard, and agrees with cobalt’s assessment. mars and laurel are useless in love.
but their love is more gorgeous and brilliant than anything aspen has ever seen before.
and how could something so beautiful be useless at all?
come ask my flower prompt questions here!
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archiefm · 4 years
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         ... claws my way up from hell once more and vomits onto the dash.... hello. its nora. i used to write rory bergstrom, but if u were here before that u might remember me as greta or alma putnam or..... som1 else.... an endless carousel of trash children..... this is finn, who i actually wrote for an early version of this rp abt 5yrs back now...... grits teeth..... so forgive me if im rusty i havent written him in a long time but seein honey boy gave me a lotta finn muse n im keen to get Back On The Horse yeehaww...
DYLAN O’BRIEN / CIS-MALE — don’t look now, but is that finn o’callaghan i see? the 25 year old criminology and forensic studies student is in their graduate year of study year and he is a rochester alum. i hear they can be judicious, adroit, morose and cynical, so maybe keep that in mind. i bet he will make a name for themselves living off-campus. ( nora. 24. gmt. she/her )
shakes my tin can a humble pinterest, ma’am....
finn has a bio pasted at the bottom (n written in like.... 2015.... gross) but it’s long  so if u don’t wanna read it here’s the sparknotes summary..... anyway this was written years ago n a lot of it seems really cliche and lame now but..... we accept the trash we think we deserve
grumpy, ugly sweater wearing, tech-savvy grandpa
very dry sense of humour and embraces nihilism. 
if ron swanson and april ludgate had a baby it would be finn
he was raised in derry, just south of dublin.
from a big family. elder sister called sinead. he also has a younger sister (aoife), a younger brother (colm), and a collie named lassie because his father lovs cliches (finn hates cliches but loves his dog). 
his father was a pub landlord and his mother worked at the market sellin fruit n veg when they met but got a job as a medical receptionist when she had kids cos it meant she cld be there with them in the day and work nights.
his parents met when they were p young and fiesty and rushed into marriage cos they were catholic n just wanted to have sex. his family were literally dirt-poor, but they had a lot of love i guess
hmmmmm his relationship w his father wasn’t the best cos i can’t write character who have healthy relationships w their parents throws up a peace sign. yh, had a pretty emotionally distant, alcoholic violent father n so gets a lot of his bad habits i.e. drinking as a coping mechanism and poor anger management from him BUT anyway
as a kid he was never very motivated in class, he always had a nervous itch to be off somewhere doing something else. struggled under government austerity bcso there just wasn’t the resources to support low income families where the kids had learning difficulties n needed support. fuck the tories am i right 
his mum suggested he try sports to help w his restless energy but he was never any good at football so he took up boxing and tap dance instead. he took to tap dancing like a fish to fuckin water. as adhd n found this as a really good way to use his excess energy in a creative way
had a few run ins with the police in his early teens for spray painting and graffiti, but he straightened himself out n now actually considering becoming a detective inspector??? cops are pigs.
he had a youtube channel where he posted videos of him tapdancing and breakdancing as a kid, basically would be a tiktok boy nowadays, n had like... a small fanbase in his early teens. attended several open auditions unsuccessfully, until he was finally cast in billy eliot when he was fifteen.
during billy eliot he began dating an italian dancer called nina. they became dance partners soon after and toured across the republic with various different shows (inc riverdance lol the classic irish stereotype). their relationship was p toxic tbh, they were both very hot tempered people and just used to argue and fight all the time.
he went semi-pro at tap dancing, and nina couldn’t stand being second best so she moved back to italy with her family. ignored his texts, phone calls, etc, eventually he was driven to the point where he used his savings to buy a plane ticket, showed up at her house and she was like wtf?? freaked out and filed a restraining order accusing him of stalking.
he was fined for harassment and then returned home to derry, but after the incident with nina he quit dancing for good and finished his leaving cert before heading to university in the US to get as far away from nina and his past life as poss. and basically since he quit dancing to study forensics (death kink. finn cant get enough of that morgue. just walks around sayin beat u) he’s become a massive grump and jsut doesn’t see the good in people any more.
u’ll find finn in an old man bar drinking whiskey bc he is in fact an old man at heart or sat on his roof smoking a joint, drawing wolves and lions and skeletons and shit, playing call of duty or getting blazed or at the corner of the room in a house party ignoring everyone and scrolling through twitter. is a massive e-boy. always up-to-date on memes and internet slang. has reddit as an app on his phone
not very good at communication. rather than solve his issues by talking, he’d prefer to just solve them through fighting or running away from his problems hence why he has come halfway across the world to get away from an issue which probs cld have been solved w a few apology emails.
takes a lot to phase him, but when his beserk button gets pressed he can become a bit pugnacious like an angry lil rottweiler. in his undergrad he was in a few fist fights but doesn’t really do tht any more as he doesn’t condone violence.
 in the previous version of this rp he was hospitalised like 5 times. pls, give my son a break. stop tryin to kill him. he literaly got a bottle smashed over his head and bled out all over his favourite angora rug that was the only light of his life
works at the campus coffee shop n always whines about how he’s a slave to capitalism. always smells of coffee
lives off campus with an elderly woman named Marianne, and basically gets reduced rent bcos he makes her dinner / keeps her company. they have a great bond
fan of karl marx. v big on socialism
insomniac with chronic nosebleeds
cynical about everything. too much of a fight club character 4 his own good n has his head up tyler durden’s sphincter
always confused or annoyed
statistics
basic information
full name: finnegan seamus o'callaghan nickname(s): finn age: 25 astrological sign: aries hometown: derry, ireland occupation: phd student / former street entertainer fatal flaw: cynicism positives: self-reliant, street smart, relaxed, intelligent, spontaneous, brave, independent, reliable, trustworthy, loyal. negatives: hostile, impulsive, stubborn, brooding, pugnacious, untrusting, cynical, enigmatic, reserved.
physical
colouring: medium hair colour: dark brown, almost black eye colour: brown height: 5’9” weight: 69kg build: tall, athletic voice: subtle irish accent, low, smooth. dominant hand: left scar(s): one on the left side of his ribs from a knife wound that he doesn’t remember getting cos he was drunk distinguishing marks: freckles, tattoo of a wolf howling at a moon allergies: pollen and the full spectrum of human emotion alcohol tolerance: high drunken behaviour: he becomes friendlier, far more conversational than when sober, flirtier, and generally more self-confident.
psychological
dreams/goals: self-fulfilment, travel the globe, experience life in its most alive and technicoloured version, make documentary films, help the vulnerable in society, grow as a human being.
skills: jack-of-all-trades, very fast runner, good at thieving things, talented tap dancer, good in crisis situations, dab-hand at mechanics, musically-intelligent, can throw a mean right hook and very capable of defending himself, can roll a cigarette, memorises quotes and passages of literature with ease, can light a match with his teeth.
likes: the smell of the earth after rain, poetry, cigarettes, shakespeare, whiskey, tattoos, travelling, ac/dc, deep conversations, leather jackets, open spaces, the smell of petrol, early noughties ‘emo phase’ anthems.
dislikes:  the government, parties, rules, donald trump, children, apple products, weddings, people in general, small talk, dependency, loneliness, pop music, public transport, justin timberlake, uncertainty.fears: fear itself, drowning alignment: true neutral mbti: istp – “while their mechanical tendencies can make them appear simple at a glance, istps are actually quite enigmatic. friendly but very private, calm but suddenly spontaneous, extremely curious but unable to stay focused on formal studies, istp personalities can be a challenge to predict, even by their friends and loved ones. istps can seem very loyal and steady for a while, but they tend to build up a store of impulsive energy that explodes without warning, taking their interests in bold new directions.” (via 16personalities.com)
full bio (lame as fuck written years ago..... pleathe...)
tw homophobia
born in quigley’s pub on the backstreets of sunny dublin, young finnegan o'callaghan was thrown kicking and screaming into the rowdy suburbs of irish drinking culture. the son of a landlord and a fishwife, he never had much in the way of earnings, but there was never a dull moment in his lively estate, where asbo’s thrived, but community spirit conquered. at school, finn was pegged as lazy and unmotivated, though truly his dyslexia made it hard for the boy to learn in the same environment of his peers and only made him more closed-off in class. struggling with anger management, finn moved from school to school, unable to fit the cookie-cutter mould that school enforced on him, though whilst academic studies were of little interest to the boy, he soon found his true passions lay in recreational activities. immersed into the joys of sport from as young as four, finn was an ardent munster fan and anticipated nothing more than the day he could finally fit into his brother’s old pair of rugby boots.
his calling finally came unexpectedly, not in the form of rugger, but through dance. to learn to express himself in a non-academic way, he began tap dancing, finding therapy in the beat of his soles against the cracked kitchen tiles (much to his mother’s disgrace). it wasn’t a conscious choice, finn just realised one day that dance was something that made him feel. a king of the streets, finn made his fortune on those cobbled pavements – dancing and drawing to earn his keep. by default, finn became a street artist, each penny he earned from his chalk drawings saved in a jam jar towards buying his first pair of tap shoes. though many of his less-than-amiable neighbours called him a nancy and a gaybo, finn refused to quit at his somewhat ‘unconventional’ hobby, for the young scrapper found energy, life, and released anger through the rhythm of tap. soon he branched out into street dance, hip hop, break dancing, lyrical, his days spent smacking his scuffed feet against the broken patio into the night.
when he was thirteen he took up boxing, and as expected, his newfound ‘macho’ pastime conflicted with his dancing. the boxers called him ‘soft’; the dancers called him ‘inelegant’. he felt like two different people; having to choose between interests was like being handed a knife and asked to which half of himself he wished to cut away. he couldn’t afford professional training in dance, with most schools based in england and limited scholarships available. instead, he made the street his studio, racking up a small fanbase on youtube. when he was fifteen he made his debut in billy eliot at the olympia theatre in dublin. enter nina de souza, talented, beautiful and italian; ballet dancer, operatic singer, genius whiz kid, and spoiled brat. she was selfish, conceited, hell bent on getting her own way, and every director’s nightmare. finn fell for her like a house of cards. he’d always had a soft spot for girls who meant trouble. and so their hellish courtship began.
by the time they were seventeen, the two young swans had danced in every playhouse across the republic. they were known in theatres across the country for their tempestuous personalities, their raging arguments with one another, their tendency to drop out of shows altogether without any notice, yet the money kept rolling in and the audiences continued to grow. for three years, their families continued to put up with their hysterical fights followed by passionate reconciliations. he was too possessive, and she was too wild. their carcrash of a relationship finally came to a catastrophic halt when nina broke off the whole affair and returned to italy with her family. for months finn tried to contact her, yet his phone calls, texts, facebook messages were always ignored, until finally he was driven to drastic measures and used his savings to get a plane to her home town. when finn turned up uninvited at nina’s house she freaked out – and rightly so – she contacted her agent, accused him of stalking her, and had a restraining order placed against him. finn was arrested, held in a station overnight, and charged with harassment before he was allowed to return to dublin.
after the incident with nina, finn lost the fight in his eyes. he became far more hostile, far less likely to retaliate with his own fists, and picked fights not for the thrill of feeling his own fists pummel another into a wall, but for the sensation of his own brittle bones cracking. he dropped his tap shoes in a dumpster, stopped talking to his friends, followed his father’s advice and went back to school to complete his leaving certificate. a few short months later, and finn was packing his bags, saying his bittersweet goodbyes, and travelling half-way across the globe to be as far away as possible from his past self, his mess of a life, and most of all nina. it seemed somehow ironic that the boy who had been cautioned by the garda so much during his youth for spray painting, busking without a liscence, and raucous parties would become the grumpy, aloof overseas student studying a degree in criminology; that his once reckless spirit could be crushed so easily. 
of all things that finn could be called, straightforward would never be one of them. ever since his first days in atticus, the boy was pegged as hostile, hot-headed, cynical, rude. he seemed to spend more time in his thoughts than engaging in conversation. like a ticking time-bomb, finn’s anger was of the calm kind, liable to explode without a moment’s noticed. his unpredictable personality make him something of an enigma to those who aren’t amiable with the lad, though hostile as he may appear, he harvests a good heart. loyalty lies at the centre of his affections, and whilst his friends are few in number, he makes a lifelong partner. somewhere within finn, there’s still some fight left, but mostly he has recognised that his hedonistic lifestyle did little to leave him fulfilled – mostly, it just emptied him out – and over his three years at university has resigned himself to a nihilistic predicament.
        if u wanna plot with me pls pls pls im me or like this post!! i am always game for plots i love em so excited to write with you all here r some ideas
study buddies. finn is now a phd student so has to start takin shit seriously. he gon be in the library every day doing that independent study. if he had ppl who were also regular library goers n they get each other coffees to save time.... tht wld be sweet
ppl who love techno dj sets and going super hard on the weekends!!! fuck yea
friends with benefits. exes on bad terms. ppl he tried to date but couldnt because he’s always emotionally hung up on someone else. spicy hook up plots
ppl he met touring?? maybe ppl who were also in the entertainment industry..... anyone got a character who is ex circus hit me up
does anyone else study criminology / forensics / criminal psych / law? phd students sometimes lecture so he cld be an assistant lecturer / tutor if ur character is in a younger year
gamers !!! social recluses !!! hermits !!
finn goes to the skatepark and all the young boys there think he’s a gradnpa which he is! 
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