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maelancoli · 3 months ago

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Writing Explicit Intimacy More Deeply

okay after the kissing post i've wanted to try to write something about actual sexual scenes. it's taken me a while to figure out what approach to take for such a broad subject because this is such a subjective form of writing and everyone has very strong opinions and varying proclivities. the truth is you are not going to please everyone and there will be a chunk of people who will always dislike your choice of words. and so even in writing a post to help others, there's going to be people who strongly disagree or find what i prefer to be cringe or unerotic.

the portrayal of sexual intimacy and the approaches taken are as varied as the sexual preferences, appetites, turn ons and turn offs of every day real people. this can either make you freeze up when writing, or free you to realize there is no 100% right way to approach erotic art and anyone who tells you otherwise is a smartass or trying to sell you something. so with no further ado, this post will be exactly what it sounds like so proceed at your own risk.

i'm going to focus less on style itself and more on approach. the first thing is that you don't need to divorce 'fluffy' non explicit intimacy from sexual writing. the exact same style and techniques you use for non sexual intimacy can often be applied to the sexual scenes too. kissing scenes, the chaste restrained touches filled with deeper desire, the linger looks from across the room, the build up to the first moments of vulnerability, the first few kisses, the first 'almosts' are connected to the sexual scenes themselves. it is all the same emotions and tensions. they're only heightened. and for sex scenes that are produced from these build ups are a simple escalation. you only need to expound upon what you've already built. don't view it as starting new and having to figure out how to write a different topic/moment. it's a continuation and all you need to do is use the tools you've already given yourself.

my second tip is to spend time shaping your character's tastes, kinks, turn ons and icks, their secret fantasies, their red lines they won't cross, their pleasure zones, the places they find attractive on others that they like to focus on and stimulate. if you want your sex scenes to feel real and not like it's just a emulation of generic smut or porn, you have to do what you do for literally anything else to make it not feel bland or contrived: character development.

where does your muse like to be kissed? what parts of their body make them feel stimulated, what parts are the most sensitive? not everything is about genitals. a lot of people like their foreplay to start with groping in varying erogenous zones. some are unconventional, some like their ears licked, they want their wrists kissed and sucked, they just want their partner to hold them close etc. the more you practice and explore what feels right for your character, the easier building on that foundation of tension will become.

if you feel awkward you can write the characters feeling awkward too because it often is. sex isn't always erotic or super steamy. it can be funny and awkward or just a natural physical thing happening between two people. focus less on if it sounds good in the first draft and focus more on if it makes sense for the characters, focus on how this moment makes them feel, where they feel their arousal and excitement in their body, how they respond to each other, what this means to them or what it doesn't mean etc. after you have gotten that down, then you edit it. add the prose, use the language that either make sit feel less crude to you or more erotic or more poetic etc.

lets take eliza and grabriella from last time so we can expound upon their previous interaction

it wasn't like she had never seen gabriella before. the first time they had seen each other outside of a dorm room or stuffy lecture hall was at dance club which was too crowded and too loud and was less 'dance' and more 'stand around and bob heads and take up too much space on the dance floor.' but she did remember what gabriella wore. she remembered her cropped blouse with ruffled sleeves and how she hadn't worn a bra beneath it. she remembered that she did dance. she remembered how effortless it looked. and the shorts which hugged her thighs and formed that little indentation that first made her wish she could tuck her fingers beneath the hemline and tug her close. she had denied those instincts then, those unrealized desires. but she wasn't denying it now. because now gabriella was on her mattress, sitting on her knees in only her bra and lacy underwear which evoked that same feeling. eliza imagined hooking a finger just at the waistline and tugging. butterflies swirled in her stomach and static radiated through her at the mere thought because this time she could do it. "you okay?" gabriella murmured. she was smiling. that smile made her feel all the warmth of the brightest stars which whispered she was meant to be here, with her. "yeah," eliza breathed out. she leaned closer and feathered her lips along the other woman's. even with a trembling hand she reached forth and brushed her fingertips at the edges of gabriella's panties. "i'm okay," she promised. she allowed herself to smile and in doing so realized she was already grinning. "more than okay." "good," gabriella kissed her back, one of her hands sliding into eliza's hair as the other tenderly began to caress her bare thigh. "have you ever...?"

"no," she admitted. heat gathered in her cheeks which were turning pinker by the second. her ears must have looked sunburnt and she had to resist the urge to cover her face. "not really...not like this." a pause. she bit at the inside of her lower lip and glanced up at gabriella's soft features. when their eyes met, she simultaneously felt all her muscles relax again. but those damn butterflies kept fluttering within her. "have you?" "once," gabriella nodded. then she smiled, a shyness in her expression which only made her features glow all the more. she reached down and gently grasped eliza's hand. she rubbed her thumb over her knuckles. "just follow my lead," she murmured. "we'll make up our own steps." she slowly guided eliza's fingers beneath the lacy waistband. and then further. until she felt the damp warmth between her thighs. eliza's breath hitched and she almost forgot how to control her lungs. "i think i can figure it out," she replied with a small smirk before she tenderly rubbed the pad of her thumb against gabriella's mound. when the other woman breathed in deep, almost moaning, she knew this was a dance she would happily memorize.

i put the rest below the cut to help the post from being too lengthy. but essentially here we see a continuation of eliza feeling uncertain in new territory but finding comfort and reassurance in gabriella. she might be nervous, but she has no doubts about this woman she's attracted to. rather than just describing one action after the other or focusing only on the biological responses happening, we're delving into the continuation of anticipation, we're showing the gentle push and pull between them. eliza has the desire to take control and give pleasure to gabriella. but she finds herself needing gabriella's guidance and that's okay.

because they met dancing, we can use dancing symbolism. deciding the contrasting language and euphemisms you want to use for your ship will help you broaden how you write the intimacy beyond the physical.

eliza wants to be more dominant we see hints of it here, but realistically someone who is new to a situation will not be able to go straight into that. but, say that there is continued scenes of intimacy between them, after the first time, we would start to let her slowly explore that. perhaps gabriella would coax it out of her, maybe eliza will surprise her. she'll tug her close by her belt loops, she let herself bite at her rather than just gentle kisses. it will happen slowly and surely. and that is typically also good advice for if you want to include more kinky content. the first time people have sex they're not gonna jump straight into that. even if they're experienced in kink they still have to get to know one another and get a feel for each other's bodies, what they do and don't like, etc.

there's further tension to explore if you utilize those intimate scenes correctly, continuing to build and escalate each time upon the previous moments. don't just jump straight to crazy sex. build up to it. let them explore each other and their sexuality together. that is where the steam comes from, the continuation of tension, the excitement of getting to know one another. don't just steamroll right over opportunities for development and sensuality.

anyway that's it folks bc this post is long af. have fun, write freaky shit, write cute shit, write what makes u happy and horny.

#on writing #creative writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writer inspiration #writers of tumblr #writing tips #writing tools #writing help #writing advice #smut advice #smut tips #writing fanfic #roleplay advice #nsft #writing #writing process

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drdemonprince · 24 days ago

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so recently a girl I was hanging out w (we're both trans girls) indicated that she wanted to dominate me in the way I've wanted my whole life but I've never received (mostly not physical, sweet, predominantly psychological, soft, playing w the power dynamics, etc.). Since then I've been feeling some relief but also intense desperation, like I've been starving all my life and I've only just realized, and now the hunger pangs are eating into me.

I was just wondering if this resonates w how you understand kink and where this desperation could be coming from. I'm autistic, so I was wondering if it's desperation for the need to unmask? Or if it's about the shame of having kinky desires, and the relief that comes from getting affirmed that those things are ok? Is it really about a need for care, which I have received very little of my whole life? Or if I'm overthinking it— could I just have a deep gnawing hunger for submission in and of itself, where submission is, for me, as important as breathing?

Of course, I know you can't explain my own emotions, but any insight you have into the tangled web of desire, desperation, hunger, kink, care, relief, autism, trans shit, and isolation would be v v v appreciated. ty dr demon prince :)

I think what you might be responding so strongly to is the opportunity to express a side of yourself that normally has zero outlet. We can call it headspaces, or alters, or escapism, or playing a role, and certainly it has to do a lot with letting go and unmasking -- but the universal human explanation is that who were are is largely socially instantiated, and that it is impossible for us to be certain versions of ourselves without that self being welcomed, catered to, and interplayed with by another person -- the right person, in the right dynamic.

Kink can be so beautiful because it allows sides of ourselves that rarely find expression to interplay with others' also hidden or hard-to-activate sides. With one partner of mine, I get to be a slobbering obedient puppy for their nurturing, yet controlling mommy. Both of us are able to access sides of who we are that feel unreachable in everyday life, or unsafe to express. For them it's a gender euphoric experience that doesn't line up with their day-to-day identity and presentation; for me it's an escape from my mental burdens and the relief of being cared for. Yet it's also deeper. By playing at this long-lasting pet-handler relationship, I get to activate layers of trust and vulnerability with them that it would normally take years of processing and the exact right circumstances to reach. I get to collapse into their arms wailing without having actually been put through any real emotional ringer. I can be completely waylaid with emotion and need and become briefly dependent upon them and let them have full control over my body, without actually having to lose any of my freedom or having to worry about whether they can handle it.

That's just a personal and recent example. But I often feel that within kinky, headspacey social contexts, a different side of me is free to express itself and my ego doesn't have to mediate or hold the reins. I feel the same thing at Furfest, though it's not always sexual. I can just be a friendly, silly, huggy deer, and meet other people for their playful animal/toony energy too. Because we are all just being silly animals, I can relate to people that I might have very little in common with in terms of my day-to-day life. We don't have to talk about work, or our families, or political economy -- we can just dance and get stoned, cuddle and eat snacks, play videogames, compliment one another's outfits, live in the present right before us. all the over-intellectualization that normally separates me from people is just gone, and some more primordial feeling of animal comraderie is there.

And I miss that feeling of ease and friendliness DESPERATELY once furfest ends. It feels at times that when a bond or a social context like this disappears that some essential part of myself has been TAKEN from me. Because it doesn't just dwell within me. I can't just enjoy it alone at home. It has to operate within a living social dynamic.

It may be something like that for you. When I first discovered there was an entire community devoted to erotic hypnosis, my lifelong fetish, the universe seemed to open up with possibility and I was elated. I no longer felt doomed to a joyless daily existence. It turned out I could have real, meaningful fun, connect to other people, do something new that touched new parts of my brain. I could experience some of the sensations I had only ever dreamed about and believed were impossible to realize in actual life. I wanted to live in the hypno world forever (and I did get myself into some weeks-long waking trances that kinda mentally fucked me up because I was in such a frenzy, oops). It's a kind of love, finding your spaces, finding your people, finding the contexts in which some sacred part of you is free. It's a love of yourself, and the other person, and the context -- it's a love of being alive, which is often so sorely needed for those of us who are wired in such a way as regular life is usually unfulfilling or painful.

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shhhsecretsideblog · 6 months ago

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For the birth denial asks, what about going to a play or performance and you're in labor the whole time, but you're sucking it up because it's your partners birthday and they really wanted to see it, but your water breaks/ you feel the urge to push just after the last intermission ends

Anon!!!! You beautiful person! This is my fav thing ever and I swear I’ve submitted this exact request to other birth fic writers on here before I started doing my own. So so happy to have gotten this ask. Thank you!!!!

Theatre Birth

We had booked the tickets a year ago; it was a limited run at our local theatre, guest starring our favourite actress, and it just happened to coincide with your birthday. We simply had to get tickets to see this play. So I offered to buy the tickets and we could make a celebratory night of it.

But then I got pregnant.

We completely forgot about the show with all the excitement of the pregnancy, until about two weeks beforehand when we received the tickets in the post. It was awfully close to my due date. You offered to cancel the tickets, or see if we could resell them, but we were both still desperately excited to see this limited performance while we could. I assured you I still wanted to go, it was your birthday treat and we would be fine. First babies are never early.

I didn’t tell you about the braxton hicks contractions that plagued me the day before, or the fact I’d lost my mucus plug that morning. You were too excited; it was your birthday, you had a baby on the way and you would be seeing your favourite actress that evening. I couldn’t spoil your joy, especially not for false and practice labour pains. I just had to ride them out and let you enjoy your day. I’d tell you tomorrow.

I’d managed to hide the grimaces of pain throughout the day, but when we got to the theatre the cramps were coming at such regular intervals I was forced to consider this might actually be the real thing. But we were here now and labour took hours before there would be any need to go to the hospital, so I didn’t say anything. You pulled my arm eagerly through the theatre, excitement sparkling in your eyes for this evening’s performance. Holding my heavy bump, I plastered on my best smile and waddled behind you to find the row with our seats.

The old theatre seats were upholstered in a rough red velvet that itched the backs on my legs and the size of the seats were not designed with pregnant people in mind. Needless to say I was far from comfortable. You flicked through the programme and opened your box of sweets, in a world of your own as we waited for the show to start. I shifted in my seat and rubbed the ache in my lower belly, my bump spread over the tops of my legs because the seat was too narrow to allow it to fully sit between my thighs as it usually did. Another contraction struck and I hissed through my teeth but at the same time the music started abruptly so my flinch was left unnoticed.

I’d thought seeing the play would be a great distraction from the aches and twinges, but as the waves of pain crashed with more and more intensity I couldn’t pay attention to what was happening on stage. The seat was agonisingly uncomfortable, I was sweating in my outfit, and I was regretting all my choices that had led me here. After a long hour and a half Act One eventually finished. You helped me up out of the low chair so I could make a quick dash to the toilet, with the baby so big and so active I was surprised I’d lasted the duration of the first act.

There was a long line for ladies, standard in the small theatre, but as I felt the telltale cramping of the next contraction I pulled the pregnancy card and skipped ahead of the queue. I just felt so full; my belly was tight, the baby was low, and there was so much pressure. I panted silently through the contraction as I sat on the toilet and just as it was coming to an end I felt something give and a splash echoed from the porcelain.

Oh my god, that was my waters… I thought to myself.

I sat there, a little in shock, breathing slowly to calm myself. It's okay. I’ll just clean myself up, head back to our seats to tell you, and then we could make a quick and subtle exit before the play resumed. By the time I had exited the bathroom and awkwardly shuffled along the row to get back to our seats the lights in the theatre were already starting to dim - the next Act was beginning. You offered a hand to help me get back into the chair and I don’t know why but I took it and sat back down on the itchy seat. The music started before I could tell you my waters had just broken, with everyone around us back in their assigned seats all sitting in the dark and facing the bright lights of the stage. Now completely stuck in the middle of a row I couldn’t bring myself to tell you - we couldn’t get leave now, it would mean asking about 15 people to move in order to allow my heavy and labouring body to exit the row and attracting all manner of unwanted attention. Rubbing my contracting belly, I took a deep breath. I just had to get through act two and then you and I could head straight for the hospital after the play. Everything would be fine.

~•~

It was not fine.

Without the cushioning of my waters the baby’s head was rammed against my dilating cervix. The contractions were hitting me every few minutes and I was surprised I hadn’t yet cried out from the pain. I tried to do little things to ease the pain, shifting in my seat or rubbing my belly, but the movement seemed to attract the annoyed glances from people around us. If I just stayed still and breathed through the pain, I was sure I could make it through. Occasionally you’d glance at me, checking I was enjoying the show, and I tried my best to smile through my gritted teeth.

But everything changed when the need to push presented itself. I pulled a sudden sharp gasp and my eyes widened with panic. You softly turned to look at me and your face fell at seeing the pained and panicked expression on mine.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You whispered in my ear.

“Hooo- nothing…” I breathed quietly, ignoring all my body’s cues that I might need to start pushing.

You placed a hand on my bump and felt the solid and tense surface beneath your fingers. “Are you having contractions?”

“I’m fine… hoooo… just- hold my hand.” I said, determined not to make a scene or attract attention.

Grabbing your hand I turned back to the stage, signalling you to do the same. I could do this, it wouldn’t be much longer and then we can leave quietly. Just breathe and don’t push, I told myself.

I managed to make it through half a dozen more contractions, breathing steadily and squeezing your hand whenever they hit. I could see in my peripheral vision your head turning anxiously towards me whenever I gripped your hand tight. The play felt like it was dragging on and on and on. Surely it had to end soon. The next contraction began to seize, I took a deep breath and released it slowly through the pain but the pressure was quickly building to astronomical heights. I was biting my lips to stop myself making any noise but the occasional whimper slipped through. Without control or permission I felt my body suddenly push. My fingers curled around your hand, my nails digging deep into your skin as I beared down.

Your head snapped towards me and saw my face scrunched and my chin on my chest.

“Oh my god are you pushing?!?!” You stuttered.

I could only gulp a breath as my body pushed again. The baby was right there and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. My legs parted instinctively as I slumped in the chair and lifted my knees. I could feel my lips start to open, forced apart as the head pushed its way out. And yet I remained silent, with only the occasional muted grunt sounding from my throat from a baby that was desperate to be born.

“Stop… y-you can’t be pushing. You’re not in labour… are you?” You were frazzled, unsure what to do. The performers were still on stage, the show continuing, unaware of the new life that was soon to enter the world.

I let go of your hand and scrambled to pull the fabric of my dress up. Diving beneath the clothing I put a hand between my thighs and I felt through my underwear the large round shape of the baby’s head poking out. “Fuck….” I gritted under my breath.

Unable to fully speak or explain, I just grabbed your hand and placed it on the partially crowned head. “Baby’s-coming…mnghhhhhh….” I grunted and succumbed to another push, bearing down uncontrollably with a primal need to birth right here right now.

People around us were starting to notice, but I could pay them no mind. The baby slipped further and further out with every push, filling your hand that had remained between my legs. The full crown was reached in a matter of agonising seconds and then with a sudden loud grunt the head popped out.

It was only then I became aware of the silence and the fact the people on stage had halted their performance and were staring.

#my writing #answered asks #birth prompts #birth denial #clothing birth #birth kink #birth fic #inconvenient birth #public birth #labor kink

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kateysummers99 · 10 months ago

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Do you think the WWBM Interacial movement has now got to a critical point where momentum has starting to challenge even the majority of White Women now as far as there choices for relationship ? May we as White Males even lose this group of females to African Men more then we keep ourselves ?

The short answer is definitely yes.

Because of my own personal experiences and also just looking at major social trends, it's pretty obvious that IR relationships (in general, but specifically white girls and black guys) are much more common now than they were 10, 30, and 30 years ago.

I think there are lots of reasons for this and I’m obviously not an expert (I work in finance, not cultural psychology), but lets just look at the obvious trends:

Girls today are more empowered in general, and especially regarding sexuality and romance. I mention this a lot on this blog, there are less things hold girls back than there used to be. Movies and TV and culture in general are so much more accepting that people can love who they want to love, and that applies especially to society being more accepting of girls expressing their sexuality. I grew up in a time when dating black guys was an obvious but implied no-no, and it's just not the same today. (Note this is NOT true everywhere. Sadly there are racists and homophobes still, but they will probably be holdouts until they die.)

Black men are idolized for their physicality and masculinity by society more and more every day. Sports, music, advertising media, movies, social media and TV shows - you name it, black guys are constantly the icon of masculinity, status and power. This is really true for their masculinity, where we regularly fetishize the sexual prowess of black men in every day culture with phrases like “once you go black you never go back.”

Porn is free and everywhere. Also something that wasn’t the case when I was growing up, but now you just pick up any cell phone and in a few seconds be privately and anonymously staring at an amazing black man and his huge black cock (or whatever your fantasy is).

Also in the last few years, social justice and institutional racism has become a hot topic, I think a lot of women recognize that the same old white male patriarchy that has been suppressing women since the beginning of time has also been responsible for suppressing Black people. This puts white women and black men on the same side on a pretty deep level, where they see each other in the same existential struggle for happiness against the common enemy that is old white guys.

Another interesting thing that I've read reports about is more and more young white guys who are essentially "staying single" forever, sometimes due to porn addiction. They make a sexual connection with porn that is easy and judgment free, which is the opposite of the real-world dating situation where they deal with complex social dynamics and competition (including trying to compete against more masculine black men who are constantly in movies and music).

So if that's a growing tend... then young women find themselves more free in choosing partners, society idolizing black guys, exposed to IR sex and porn, and more culturally aligned with black guys… and young white guys basically removing themselves from the dating pool.

As for me personally, I have always thought think black guy / white girl couples are the most beautiful -- there's a special passion and primal attraction that goes deep down that you just don't see with other couples.

So yes, I think black guy and white girl couples are definitely more and more popular. I don’t think we’ll ever get to a point where all white men are unwanted forever (sorry white boys who message me, desperate to live in such a world), but I do think increasingly empowered girls and wider acceptance of female sexuality will naturally trend to more black guys and white girls together - which is all beautiful to me :)

#interracial couples #interracial love #ask me anything #ask me questions #social justice

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jennifer-jeong · 10 months ago

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Hi there :)

Can I request some headcanons about Xiao and Wanderer (separated) with an old s/o? Like, they've been together for decades, but reader is a mortal and they're not, therefore they don't have many years left to live now that they're in their 80s. I would like something sweet but feel free to add some angst in it.

HI ANON TY FOR YOUR ASK! Ok so I’m literally goiNG TO CRY because I actually purposely make my own self insert immortal because this makes me so depressed but dw I will make it a fluffy happy ending. I would be unwell if I didn’t make it a happy ending LMAO

Fluff + Slight Angst | Xiao/Wanderer x Reader Mortals

CONTENT Fluff, some angst, gender neutral reader, HAPPY ENDING WOO, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

XIAO has been alive for longer than he can genuinely remember and most of it was spent suffering alone. He’s scarred so deeply that even until the end of time, the marks will never fade. He can’t get rid of his past but you came along and he realized he could at least start to heal from the centuries of pain. Your time together has been the best years of his life and it makes his heart ache to think that you’re about to come and go before even living for a fraction of his life. He’s watched your mortal body age but he still thinks knows that you’re the prettiest thing he’ll ever encounter. Xiao has always treated his time with you like it was limited, even when you were younger. He’s been getting desperate recently though, your body has slowed down, and you’re well into your elderly years. He’s always wanted to ask you if he and Zhongli could help you with this, return you to your younger body and help you live forever. But, he thought it would hurt you. Immortality is more of a curse than a blessing and he of all people should know that. But as your health deteriorated, he started to plan how to ask you without pressuring you. Honestly, when he finally brought it up, you giggled at him and said “I didn’t even know you could do that.” He blinked as he realized how much time had passed and how he really had been avoiding it all these years. It was just somewhat unfathomable to a 2000 year old being that all these fun years with you had already been a few decades. He explains why he felt bad suggesting it, but you quickly comforted him and thanked him for even bringing it up. You said you needed some time to think about it but you knew that you wanted more time with your beloved. It’s near impossible for most people to find their soulmate and so since you found yours, you wanted to somewhat selfishly hold onto him as long as you could. Of course he secretly felt the same though. Your time together might end soon as the traveller discovers the underlying mysteries of the world or it could end millenia later. Either way, you knew you’d be able to face it, together.

WANDERER has been through so much over the past few centuries of his life and he’s believed his emotions have been so useless to him as he isn’t even human. His suffering, pain, and desire never made sense because he always lacked a heart. He thought he’d be doomed to this forever until he met you. You breathed life into his mechanical body and into his new anemo vision heart. He felt truly alive with you, it was like he was freshly born as a real man when you came into his life. He took a while to properly warm up to you before he could express himself in a healthy way but you always had the patience for him. The problem was that he couldn’t have the same patience, not because he wasn’t a healthy partner, but because your life had a definite end. He was impatient because he couldn’t lose you and he didn’t know what else to do. He consulted Nahida/his mom about it and she suggested using his body as a template to create a body for you. One that would last forever with him. He was immediately overjoyed to hear that there was hope and he almost forgot to consider that you might not want to live forever. He probably tries to gauge if you would want to by prodding you with small questions but you see straight through him. You know something’s up, and you tell him that you know there’s enough trust between you two for either of you to speak freely. So he does. You take some time to debate it and decide to do it because even if at some point you can’t take it, you’d talk to him about it and come up with a solution (but you doubt that'll come up <3). There was a lot going on in Teyvat at the moment but just knowing that you’d have more time gave both of you peace. He was worried that afterwards you might not be the same, and that you might become emotionally hollow. But you knew that with him there, you’d never feel any less alive. Even without your physical body, you both had your souls, and it was all you’d ever need.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin impact fluff #xiao x reader #xiao fluff #xiao angst #wanderer x reader #wanderer fluff #wanderer angst #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche angst #j's silly ramblings #j's asks

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rallamajoop · 10 months ago

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On Mia Winters, misogyny, and abuse

As should be pretty obvious by now, I love Mia Winters. I honestly think she’s one of the most compelling characters in this whole damn franchise.

But let me make clear: you don’t have to love her. Mia’s canonically done a lot of shady shit in her time, and her relationship with Ethan has real problems. There are perfectly viable interpretations where the only thing really holding it together is his own denial. Only I never seem to get to read any of those takes, because the most common characterisations Mia gets in fic are an irredeemable monster, or a cardboard cutout who exists only to be written out as quickly as possible. And to write Mia out to that degree doesn’t just do her character a disservice, it does Ethan a disservice, and a big one.

The amount of Mia-bashing I see out there in this fandom turns my stomach. It’s not just the slash fans who’d rather ship Ethan with another dude. I have seen Mia loudly bashed in tags on het or gen fic in which she does not even appear. I have seen male fans reviewing these games on youtube who treat her the exact same way. But it’s never more frustrating than when that hate comes from the same fans who’ll turn around and talk about characters like Chris or even Lady Dimitrescu (she who canonically abuses her and murders her servants, and, y’know, eats people without a shred of remorse) like they’re perfectly forgivable and have done no real wrong. And don’t get me wrong: I love Lady D, but I love her because she’s magnificently evil. Mia? Mia’s a whole lot more complicated.

But to really explain why this hate makes me so uncomfortable, I’m going to have to start with the start of Resident Evil 7, and Mia’s very first scenes in this whole franchise.

Let me quickly summarise the opening of that game. A man whose wife disappeared without explanation suddenly gets a message about her whereabouts. He travels to an isolated location, breaks in, and finds her. She denies ever sending him that message, and seems incredibly distressed that he’s there at all. They fight. It ends with him sinking an axe into her neck and shooting her several times with a handgun. But see, he didn’t do anything wrong! It was all self-defence! She started it! She was acting crazy!

If you didn’t spot it, the whole opening of RE7 reads uncomfortably like a story about a woman escaping an abusive relationship, then being tracked down and murdered by her ex.

Obviously, I am not here to tell you Ethan’s abusive. He’s not, we’ve got no reason to imagine he is. He was legitimately acting in self-defence.

But the fact the first thing Ethan has to do in this game is find the balls to kill his own wife ‒ that a whole new era of Resi games has opened with a sequence so easily read as a sympathetic justification for how a man might perfectly innocently track down his missing spouse and "have" to kill her – that made those opening minutes into by far the most uncomfortable part of this whole franchise for me. Shit like this really happens. I mean it, I will track down the fucking statistics on women who are murdered after trying to leave an abusive partner if I have to.

What happens to ‘Mia’ in the opening to RE8 isn’t much better: it's as textbook a fridging as any I’ve ever seen. Yes, it’s a fridging that gets retconned away later when she turns up alive, but the fact that’s even possible speaks to just how awful and confusing her death is. The game opens with Mia’s violent murder at the hands of this series’ longest running ‘hero’, and the event is framed entirely in terms of how awful it is for her husband. That's as frigid as a fridging gets.

The eventual reveal that the real Mia was just trapped alone in a cell being experimented on by a madwoman for god knows how long doesn’t actually make it better. The horror Mia goes through in both these games is a footnote, barely explored.

I bring these events up not to condemn the RE franchise, not to say that including these sequences was unconscionable, or that violence against women can never be shown in a horror title. A quick glance at my tumblr should demonstrate how much I adore these games. Tropes like fridging become problems only because they’re so ubiquitous they can come to define almost the only roles women get to play, not because any individual example is necessarily grounds for outrage. If anything, there’s just as much to analyse in all the hate thrown at characters like Ethan Winters (or his predecessor, Jonathan Harker) as a archtypical examples of sexism against men – backlash against the very idea of a male character in the disempowered role of horror victim, usually reserved for women.

But with this context in mind, my god is it uncomfortable to see people talk about Mia as irredeemable monster who deserves to suffer more. People who will valorise the likes of Chris Redfield, who didn’t even bother to stop to tell Ethan that’s not Mia, yet talk about Mia like being shot to death in her own living room was only what she deserved. That is just a whole load of yikes.

And given that both games open with Mia being violently killed by a male protagonist (twice in RE7, with the player in control), it sure is convenient how so many people have managed to ‘find’ the evidence that proves she’s the real villain. You don’t have to think too hard about Chris Redfield as a violent maniac or Ethan Winters being forced to kill his own wife if it’s okay to inflict violence on this woman. “Yes, but she shouldn’t have done [X]…” or even “But what if she’s the real abuser” is a narrative that gets thrown at real women in abusive relationships all the time – especially when the man is a friend of whoever’s casting judgement, or even a celebrity. Real world examples of this shit in the wild run the gamut from wild fan-takes on The Shining ‘proving’ that actually the abused wife was the ‘real’ abuser all along, right up to the ongoing hate campaign against Amber Heard. People don’t want to have to think badly of someone they admire, and will take any excuse to shift the blame. The stakes are infinitely lower when we’re talking about fictional characters, but the same pattern plays out.

And look, I do get it. It’s easy to go into these games and come out with a negative opinion of Mia. She’s the one who lures you into danger in RE7, acts all innocent, and then comes at Ethan with a chainsaw – and when you finally find out her big secret at the end, it turns out she was working for the people who created Eveline from the start! You’re really not given a lot of reasons to invest in Ethan and Mia’s relationship before she’s suddenly coming at him with a knife, and the fact she never does get to come clean to him in canon leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

It’s really easy to go into RE8, note all the glaring signs that Ethan’s relationship with Mia isn’t healthy, and draw your own conclusions about a woman we don’t hardly even see again for most of the runtime of the game. Half this goddamn fandom still seems to think Heisenberg is actually a lycan, ffs – most of what people think they know about Mia is more meme than fact, and the rest is pretty surface level. Basic media literacy is not exactly high out there in the tumblrweeds (let alone the rest of the internet).

But as for the idea that Mia’s responsible for all the horrors Ethan went through, people seem to forget that Mia herself went through so much worse. Ethan spent a day in the Bakers’ property, and a day in the village. Mia spent years trapped in the Bakers’ property, and days at least imprisoned in Miranda’s lab, knowing exactly how much danger her family were in, helpless to save them. She’s no innocent herself, but ye gods has she already suffered for her crimes.

So with all that out of the way, well, what’s the actual ‘evidence’ that Mia herself was abusive? No-one's coming into this one without some bias, but let’s at least give it a fair shake.

Right upfront, I want to recognise that in both fiction and reality, women can be abusers, and men can be victims. Abuse in heterosexual relationships is far more likely to occur with the man as the abuser, but the reverse does happen, and the fact culture at large can be so eager to cast the woman as the villain doesn’t make it any easier for the real male victims of abuse to get recognition and help. Society as a whole is still just really shitty about enabling or excusing real abuse.

But the idea that Mia was abusive has very little to back it up. Whatever you make of “her” interactions with Ethan at the start of the game, the fact remains: that’s not Mia, and the fact she’s acting so strangely is meant to be our clue that something much bigger than a little marital strife is going on here. Knowing all this doesn’t really make the scene where she’s violently executed less disturbing, but you can’t miss the hints we don’t yet know the full story.

So the question becomes, is there any evidence that the real Mia was abusive? I’ve dug into this one a bit before in my post about trying to figure out the timeline of exactly when Mia was replaced, but there are no definitive answers as to how long Miranda's been living in their house. To summarise a long post (and a surprisingly lively timeline of events from the days before the game begins): the most likely intent seems to be that Miranda’s been posing as Mia for less than a week, though a lot of the vibes of the scene give me the impression it’s been several weeks at least. Ultimately, that’s going to come down to your own interpretation.

The Mia mentioned in Ethan’s diary who blew up at him at the hospital could be the real Mia, but more likely isn’t: you can’t really use her to argue anything definitive, one way or another. The Mia from the flashback where Ethan gets the call from Rose’s doctor is the real Mia, but if you think getting upset when your husband brushes off your obvious distress over your daughter’s health makes you abusive, then nothing I say here is going to convince you otherwise.

The only ‘real’ evidence that Mia might be a problem is one line you might hear from Ethan while taking Rose to bed, and it is admittedly a red flag: your mother’s scary when she’s angry.

And to anyone whose whole hatred of Mia has been built backwards from this one line – especially anyone who’s grown up in a dysfunctional household themselves – hell, I get it. It is one really yikes thing for Ethan to say about his wife.

But in Mia’s defence, I can only point out that, well, yes, canonically, she is scary when she’s angry.

Oh, did I say angry? I meant fucking possessed.

And if Ethan’s bringing up the spectre of that time, even subconsciously, maybe that should be an even bigger clue that the Mia in this house right now isn’t Mia.

But what really shows this line for what it is is that we’ve seen the real Mia angry. We’ve seen her cold fury at Eveline, daring to go right back to asking ‘can we be a family now?’ within hours forcing Mia to assault her own husband with a chainsaw. We’ve seen her frustration at Ethan’s own denial, and we’ve seen her stalk out of the room when he blows off an important conversation for a call from work. We’ve seen her advance on Chris after he shut her down, demanding, Where is my husband? Where is my daughter?!

We have never seen her angry without real justification. Her anger is neither violent nor disproportionate. It’s consistently purposeful, focused, and contained. There is nothing scary about the real Mia’s anger, unless you’re threatened by the very idea she might have something valid to be angry about.

There is evidence of tension in the Winters’ marriage from before Miranda’s arrival, but it takes a very different form – most evident in the flashback scene where Ethan receives the call from Rose’s doctor. Far from Miranda’s brusque, dismissive copy of her, the real Mia is anxious and depressed, scared of what Rose’s results might reveal. Here, Ethan’s the one brushing her concerns aside (“We talked about this […] Rose is fine!”) He recognises there seems to be something Mia’s not telling him, says they should talk about it, but then immediately brushes the conversation off when he gets a call from work, while Mia storms out of the room.

You can certainly read Mia as a hypocrite here, getting angry at Ethan for not knowing things she’s deliberately kept from him. But it’s Ethan who decides a call from work is more important than a conversation with his wife – someone who is obviously distressed, canonically still on a regime of drugs after the traumatic events of RE7, very likely suffering PTSD along with Ethan, and maybe even some form of postpartum depression. We don’t know anything about Ethan’s work, so there’s no point in speculating about how much he ‘needs’ to take that call. Mia’s no clear villain here – quite the opposite.

Personally, I tend towards taking this scene as evidence that Mia has tried to talk to Ethan about what really happened to him, but hasn’t managed to get him to face the truth. For all that Ethan supposedly wants to talk about the past, it’s a defining plot point that he’s badly in denial himself.

Or they could both be at some fault here: Ethan unwilling to face the truth, while Mia is reluctant to force him to face something she knows will hurt him and bring him distress. Even when Mia says outright that she ‘tried to keep this a secret, but…’ to Chris at the end of the game, the implication is as much that she’s tried to keep it a secret from people like Chris, who might decide Ethan is dangerous. She’s lied to protect him before, and if she’s still lying to him about her past with the Connections, then the fact that knowing the truth will hurt Ethan is obviously among her reasons. Protecting Ethan has always been among Mia’s top priorities ‒ even at her own expense.

The only other real hints we get about Mia’s inner life come from the glimpses of her we get in Donna’s domain. But I’m hesitant to read too much into these, given how unclear it is how much is just a manifestation of Ethan’s own anxieties. If anything, the ‘Mia’ in these scenes almost seems to have some far worse secret than simply having not told Ethan something he really ought to have put together on his own, and I’d kind of love to see that explored too – at least as long as that goes somewhere more interesting than round umpteen of ‘and that’s why Mia sucks’.

But my point here isn’t that you have to read any of these scenes the same way I do. I do think it’s important to recognise that nothing written for a game like RE is truly character-driven; scenes exist to serve the plot far more than to reflect consistent character motivations or hold up to fridge logic (which, let’s face it, is the real reason for most of Chris’ horrific behaviour in this game, let alone anyone else’s). The result is rarely super consistent, and leaves ample space for multiple interpretations of anyone’s motivations. Regardless, the idea there’s any hard evidence that Ethan and Mia’s relationship is dysfunctional, or that whatever’s wrong is Mia’s fault alone, is going to be incredibly hard to justify.

Any assertion that Ethan and Mia are somehow on the verge of divorce also needs to be weighed against the masses of evidence of how much they love each other – the number of times Mia has said she loves Ethan, up to and including (yes, I’m bringing this up again) how ready she is to die for him in RE7. Her speech to Chris at the end of RE8 states explicitly that being together with Ethan and Rose is the only thing that matters to her. “Mia, I’m sorry, I love you,” are some of the last words Ethan ever speaks – and I can’t help but read into how the moment he finally pushes Rose into Chris’ arms so they can get away with him weighing them down is right after he learns that Mia is alive, and thus implicitly that Rose won’t be alone if Ethan doesn’t make it. And good god does that scene break my heart every time.

It’s worth recognising that the fact Ethan and Mia love each other doesn’t inherently mean their relationship is healthy, or that you have to love them together as much as I do. Like I said up top, you don’t have to like Mia, and you don’t have to justify not liking her if you don’t. I would genuinely like to see fics where Mia and Ethan’s supposedly-necessary break up feels in character. Where Ethan loves her but just can’t deal with the resentment and the fallout over all the lies she told him, where he's been clinging to his 'happy ending' with Mia after surviving the Bakers so hard he can't face the fact things just aren't working, or where he’s having to face that their relationship only ever really worked because she was away so much. It will break my heart, but fiction is allowed to do that.

But god, it would be nice if people could just take the bashing below an eleven around this place. The number of times I’ve had to sigh and back-button out of reading something, because yet another author has decided to project their own hatred for Mia onto the husband who’s still reeling from watching her being violently murdered in front of him… it gets fucking old, y’know?

I would really like to think that in the year of our lord 2024, fandom would be a bit past this thing where they bash the canonical female love interest in the name of shipping the hero with another dude. People will bend over backwards to try and cast Heisenberg and Chris as guys who really care about consent and worry about Ethan getting hurt, because heaven forbid anyone be caught shipping something slightly problematic. And yet misogyny still somehow gets a pass.

You do not have to love Mia. You don’t even have to like her. But ye gods, the hate she gets is baseless and absurd.

Hasn't this poor woman suffered enough?

(And on that note, I promise I am finally done soapboxing in defence of Mia Winters, thank you for bearing with me for this long.)

#Mia Winters #Ethan Winters #mithan #Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil #Resident Evil 7 #RE lore #meta #Mia Winters week

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scara-meow-che · 2 years ago

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Dainsleif's dick being infused with abyss energy(?) like his arm-

Like yea Tartaglia's last form's dick, yeah Ito's oni dick, yeah zhongli's dragoon dick,but what of Dain???? That shit must be magical 😩

⦿ 𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗘 ┃ eyes up here princess with dainsleif

CW. NSFW (MDNI), big dick! dain, fem! reader, use of words (princess), established relationship, teasing, first-time sex, implied oral, sex w/out penetration (thigh job and dick job? is that even a thing? idk, just read it to find out), dirty talk, magical dick (i am NOT sorry), mention of abyss princess lumine

AN. the new archon quest 🧍🏻‍♀️ it felt like a fever dream and it's a whole ass year again before we get to see this man so i am making it my mission to let him and his abyss-energy-fused dick live in my mind rent-free. also, if the anon that sent me this is still here to witness me posting this, hello :D this took me by surprise bcs i planned it to be short but here we are ig

it wasn't every day that you get dain's attention all to yourself.

you would often see him somewhere, busy, as always. sometimes, you would find yourself conversing with a few locals when dain tries to do things on his own as he would reason out that it's for your own safety. or you'd be up and about some part of the region searching for the abyss princess as to what he currently puts as his top priority.

these repeating turn of events would, most of the time, make you question whether you really matter to him seeing as he's always invested in things unrelated to you or what interests you. you don't ask too much from him but sometimes, a little attention would be nice, or have him answer all the questions that run inside your head.

yet, when dain would see that familiar expression painting your face as you make your bed for the night, he would put everything on hold and indulge more in what you'd request. he does make up for you, well, you have no complaints when he does because he'd always be there in a heartbeat for every beck and call.

hence why you're laid out on your bed, legs spread out with him toying with your already sore clit.

the idea of having sex had never once danced in between each conversation you'd have with dain. you'd rather spend the time to catch up on each other's day and sort out a route to where you both want to go next. it never fazed you when some people asked how your relationship with dain is going, not even bothered when some old women from liyue dramatically gasped as you've never been that intimate with your lover.

as the tension builds up throughout the months of overhearing people gossiping about their partners or be the victim of a drunk local telling you the tale of their sexual escapades, it draws out some images in your head. would dain be like the same as those oni's you've heard about? or have an impressive length similar to this one tale about a dragon lord? heck, would he have a dick that grows unrealistically big just like with the harbinger that you've heard about?

but who fucking cares anyway? you're about to get the real deal right now.

"what a curious mind you have there, princess." dain mindlessly mused as he press soft kisses along your thighs, leaving you breathless as he presses himself closer to your aching core. you can feel the heat from the big hard tent on his pants as he rubs himself to the dampness of your cunt. "i thought that eating you out could already satiate your pretty little head but you still want... what? what is it that you want from me again?"

he taunts, amused when he hears a cry from your disheveled form. "ah, didn't i say to tell me if you want something?"

"but it's embarrassing to say it!" you can't even fully reason out how humiliating it is for you to casually ask him that you want to see his dick as you let out another moan when he lightly thrusts his clothed cock on your core. he doesn't even let up, continuing his cruel pace in rubbing his aching dick on your already sensitive clit.

"p-please! i just, a-ah, want to see your d-dick!"

"say what again, princess?"

having enough of his teasing, you went to give your best in bending your body just to reach the big tent on his pants. "i want to see your dick dain and... i want you to fuck me, please."

you can feel a rush of heat all over your skin, your eyes quickly darting to the side to avoid dain's amused pair. a chuckle was all you heard before you felt his hands gently laying you down back to bed. in response to his pleased titter, you scoffed and gave him a quick glare.

"i'm sorry but you're just irresistible when you're so honest with me." he paused as he takes a sharp intake of air when he pulls out his leaking cock from the confines of his pants.

your eyes widen at the sight. no, it's not because he's as big as what you heard like the one of an oni or he has that delicious curve like that of the dragon cock but it's because the hue is unlike any other, the dark blue pulses as beads of white litters on the tip. fuck, when dain gave his dick a quick stroke, you can see how it grew a bit larger in his palm.

you drool just by imagining how it would feel inside of you.

"eyes up here, princess." he gave your thighs a light smack, pulling your attention back up before you felt the cockhead rubbing so gingerly on your little nub, smearing your cum on your lower lips.

"you're so eager for me, huh?" he can feel you trembling the more he pays attention to your aching core, gliding the head back and forth your lower lips, enough to push the head inside your hole but easy for him to just pull right back out. he's testing out the waters, waiting for more of your reactions and he could only see you enjoying yourself being please with the tip of his dick.

"just look at you, so wet and ready for me." and you are, feeling your arousal pool and spill right out of your needy hole while dain keeps making a mess out of it. your hips desperately buck right up, chasing for the head but he kept you pinned down on the soft mattress as he continues teasing you.

"dain, please, want to feel more of you." your hand went to grab his arms, giving it a light squeeze that you knew would get him to listen to you.

but it did the complete opposite.

"didn't you say that you want to see my dick?"

before you could argue back, dain had gently straightened both your legs upward, his strong arms locking you in place before pushing the dark blue cockhead in between your thighs. "been wanting to do this for so long," he uttered with a low groan, his body shivering when he thrusts his cock in the middle of your soft flesh, the rushed and hasty movements of the head prods at your clit. "you look so pretty like this, just letting me use you."

you gasped for air when he purposely prods at your puckering hole, angling his abyss-energy-fused cock to dive in and out of your thighs. your eyes caught a glimpse of how each streak of white glow, the nerves pulsing as he ruts himself so needily on you.

"so keep your pretty eyes on me and maybe, if you managed to do so, i might just give you what you want."

and you did, you desperately tried your best to keep looking at dain and just watching how he use your thighs to get off. it was a rare sight to see dain lose himself, tottering over the warmth and softness that covers his dick.

at first, he was scared that he might scare you off, thinking how unusual his cock looks. compared to what he thought you'd prefer to see in between your legs, about to rail the innocence out of you, his was far off the scales.

but when he saw your eyes almost sparkled when he pulled out his dick, hands so damn eager to touch him, and both your lips spilling out how much you want more of him just sends him over the edge. his pace quickened the more he stares at your needy form, enjoying the way your eyes fluttered close whenever he brushed against your hole before proceeding in sliding his cock back on your thighs.

"i'm so close, fuck, you feel so good 'round me like this, princess." and fuck, yes, you can feel more of his pre-cum ooze around the head and coats more of your already slick skin. it felt so dirty, so filthy to watch him fuck himself with your thighs and you felt dirtier when you were enjoying how his large dick, fused with the same abyss energy as his arm, slides back and forth your thighs.

"cum for me please," you whispered, urging your lover to release his load on your skin. within seconds, dain stopped his thrusts as he buried his cock between your legs, pressing it tighter as he shoots his load on your flesh, slowly having the thick globs of his cum drip down on your core.

while dain goes to steady his breathing, you went to open up your legs to see how much cum had covered your body, the scent of sex causing your head to fizzle out that you had nothing in your mind but the need to see his dick filling you up.

dainsleif was shocked when you went to reach out for his cock, the keenness in your eyes captivating as you focused on his dick.

"wanna see how it looks as you fuck me." your request came like a cry, a whimper of desperation. and you can feel the way dain's dick twitched on your hand.

you're going to be the death of him.

#⇲ full-streams #nsfw.txt #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #dainsleif smut #dainsleif x reader smut #the archon quest PLEASE #i am 🧍🏻‍♀️#man pls stay still for once 😤

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darylsdelts · 10 months ago

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No because I’m always thinking about what Daryl’s like when he’s in love. But like, the softness of it and how he’s most likely never really had that before so as soon as he does…it’s the most wholesome thing.

Also can we agree that this man would always have his eyes fixated on his partner 😭 like…FOLLOWING THEIR EVERY MOVE BECAUSE WATCHING THEM EXIST IS SO!!!!!!!

Don’t get me started anon omg.

(Darylxfemale reader)

No because it actually breaks my heart to think that Daryl just simply wouldn’t understand why his partner loves him at first like, he knows you say it and whatever but he genuinely cannot get his head around the fact that this person LOVES him.

I feel like he’s definitely a little uncomfortable about it for a while, this doesn’t mean he doesn’t like the affection and attention he’s just not used to it but… god, him getting attention from someone that beautiful would have him blushing all the time, he’d get so shy.

He definitely had his eyes on you for a real long time before anything happened but he’d never admit it, especially because he’d never be the one making the first move.

He’d show his love for you in shy ways, coming back from runs with small gifts for you, stand in front of you, looking down and shifting his feet nervously. “Uh… gotcha this when I was out there… dunno… seemed like a you thing I guess…” he’d quickly put whatever the thing is in your grasp as if it was burning him.

But he’d get more comfortable after a while, letting his eyes linger on you, not hiding his gaze. He loves admiring you any chance he gets… and everyone can tell.

HES THE MOST GENTLE LOVER!! I know a lot of people write him as dominant and rough and each to their own but I can just never imagine it. He’s so gentle, handling you like you’re made of glass, he whispers sweet things to you when making love and he brushes your hair out your face.

He leaves notes when he goes out on runs. He does it every time but he writes a little more if he left early without seeing you.

“Out with Aaron. Be back when the suns high. Make sure you eat. Love you angel girl.”

(He’d obviously not write with correct grammar)

He’d come back when the suns high, like he said and he’d gently tell you off if you hadn’t eaten yet. He’d tell you about what he found or if he didn’t find anything. If it was a bad run, you’d know because he’d squeeze your hands when holding them, something he does subconsciously sometimes when he’s in need of comfort, even if he doesn’t know it himself.

•

This is way longer than I meant it to be I kinda got carried away but yeah, I love this and ily Anon for sending me this! ❤️

#daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl smut #daryl x reader #norman reedus #twd smut #daryl x female reader

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willsimpforanyone · 2 years ago

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Hey! I was wondering if you could do a poly!solangelo x child of eros!reader smut? And there was this tiny bit of angst since reader is the child eros and well, ya know what happened last time nico saw eros/cupid? Thanks!!!!!!!!:D

i can do that, thank you for waiting so patiently! as per usual, everyone in this fic is in their 20s at least as they have their own apartment and no one below 25 can afford that shit

reader will use they/them pronouns and generally i don't refer to genitals unless the ask specifies them

hoo boy this got away from me

------------------------------------------

I draped myself over the back of the sofa, arms flung around Nico's neck. "Hey gorgeous, how're you?"

The flinch he gave, no matter how hidden, didn't go unnoticed. He didn't say anything and I immediately pulled away. I walked round to the front of the sofa, sitting at the end with a good two feet of space between me and my boyfriend.

"You okay? Do you not want to be touched?" Which I was fine with, it just meant I'd go and find Will to lean on- being a child of Eros meant I was somewhat touchy and that wasn't always okay with people.

Nico shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. "Hm? Yeah, y-yeah, I'm fine."

Bullshit.

"Bullshit, what's wrong?"

He shot a glare at me and seemed to immediately regret it, curling in on himself and tucking his head into his hands. I hesitated, slowly getting off the sofa. "Alright, I'm going to get Will, because this looks like I've done something and I don't know how to get you to tell me."

I made it almost to the door when Nico sighed. "Wait, come back, I-" His voice was thick, like he was swallowing tears. "-I can tell you, you don't have to get Will, just... c'mere, okay?"

Carefully, I returned to my seat on the sofa, clasping my hands together to resist holding his. Nodding, I waited patiently for Nico to explain.

After a moment, he turned to face me. "It's not your fault, I know that, but sometimes... sometimes it sucks that I never... for fucks' sake!" Nico dragged his hands through his hair. Instinctively I reached out, only to pull my hand back. Nico liked touch on his terms, and I would be a really shitty partner if I didn't respect that.

Instead, I cleared my throat. "Neeks, not to push you, but you're not making much sense."

Nico nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I know, sorry, um." He took a deep breath.

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Yeah, it's-" Oh. Oh, shit, it's a real bad anniversary. "Oh, fuck, Nico, I totally forgot!" I jumped off the sofa and made to leave. "I'll- I don't know, go for a walk or go to someone's house, of course you don't want to be around me-"

Nico practically leapt across the sofa to stop me leaving. "No! No, don't go, I'm not mad at you, I'm not, I swear." My hand was tightly grasped in his and it took everything in me not to melt. I let myself be led back onto the sofa.

"I'm not mad, it's just a bit difficult when someone you love was created by a god who ruined your life, y'know?" He gave a watery laugh. "Well, one of the gods that ruined my life."

I gave a small smile. "I get it, Neeks, I do, but I need you to be honest with me, okay?" He nodded, and I continued. "Would it make it easier if I just... left, for today? Go over to to Piper's or something?"

Nico wiped at the tears welling in his eyes. "Please, don't go. I love you too much to let your dad get in the way."

There was a pause, and we both burst out laughing.

"Oh my gods, that's such a weird sentence!" I cackled, and Nico buried his face in his hands to hide his smile.

"Wow." His voice was muffled but sounded less like he was going to burst into tears.

"What happened?" Will's head poked round the door, sunny smile directed at the pair of us.

I shook my head. "Nah, just realising that my existence is awkward."

Nico half-heartedly slapped my leg. "Hey, no, your dad's existence is awkward." We began giggling again.

Will waltzed into the room, pressing kisses onto the tops of our heads. "Ah, I see, that time of year, huh?" Wow, he catches on quicker than I do, apparently.

Nodding, Nico slid over to me to make space for his other partner. "Yep, I shall be mourning the fact that I didn't get to come out on my own terms for the rest of the day, just so you know." Will flopped onto the sofa and I immediately reached out, grabbing his hand so I was touching both of them.

"Well," Will began. "Thanks for the warning, honey, but you don't have to do that."

"I will, though, it's not really my choice." Nico gave a small rueful smile.

Will looked at me with an eyebrow raised. "I mean, I've sort of had an idea hidden in the depths of my mind for a day such as this."

Both Nico and I perked up, curious. Nico shifted until he was facing Will, back leaning against my side. "Sounds dangerous, but go on."

Clearing his throat, Will played with my fingers. "It's sort of a... roleplaying... thing." I raised my eyebrows back at him, and he shrugged. "Look, just something to make Nico feel like he's just... experimenting, unsure of his sexuality and hasn't come out to anyone yet."

I couldn't judge Nico's expression, but he hadn't turned to stone which I took as a good sign. His ribs vibrated against me as he spoke. "I'm... curious, continue."

Will sat up straighter. "Okay, um, something like we'd picked you up from a bar or something, convinced you to come home with us, allowing you to experiment with us, have us experiment with you, just stuff that a closeted gay might be interested in but without any potentially toxic fallout."

Pretending to take home an innocent Nico and letting him explore exactly what he wants? I couldn't lie, that was a pretty good idea as long as Nico was into it.

Very carefully, I tuned into Nico's body language. One of the weird little gifts I had from Eros was being incredibly attuned to body language and what it meant for each person. Will had gone from somewhat nervous to more confident when Nico had said he was interested.

Nico's shoulders were loose, his fingers interwining with mine, his heart was pounding and there was a red flush creeping down his neck. Without seeing his face, I could fairly confidently say he was interested in this idea of Will's.

Fidgetting slightly, Nico swallowed. "Hypothetically, when would you want to do this?"

Will shrugged. "I mean, the point of this exercise is to distract you, give you positive memories of before you came out." There were air quotes around the last four words. "So, hypothetically, if you wanted, we could start now." He paused. "Obviously you'd be able to safeword out of it at any time, you know that, right?"

Nico was nodding before he could catch himself. "Y-yeah, Oedipus."

Will made eye contact with me. "Hey, you down for this?"

I grinned. "Oh, so very down, baby."

Lifting himself off the sofa, Will reached for me. "Okay, Neeks, we're going to go out to the kitchen, then we'll come back in after a minute or so and get started, alright?" I took Will's hand and together we left Nico on the sofa.

My skin was buzzing, but I let Will lead me into the kitchen.

"Hey, Will?"

"Yeah, honey?"

I swallowed. "Can I kiss you?"

Will grinned. "Feeling a little deprived of affection, are we?"

Rolling my eyes, I pulled him closer, letting his hand go in favour of wrapping my arms around his waist. "Please?"

In answer, Will pressed his lips against mine. I surged forward, delighting in finally being allowed to touch and kiss and feel someone against me. Will's hands cradled my head and I melted into him, transferring all the desire to touch Nico in the last twenty minutes or so onto Will.

He pulled away, laughing lightly at my whine, and pecked my nose. "I know, babe, but we have a baby gay out there, waiting to be shown the ropes, isn't he worth cutting this a little short?"

That sent a shiver down my spine. "Yeah, absolutely, come on." I dragged Will into the bedroom, the pair of us searching for a couple things to lay out on the bedside table before Will caught me in one last kiss.

The trip from the bedroom to the living room was the longest journey in the world. Nico was standing by the mantlepiece, pretending to admire the picture of me and Will on holiday. He'd strategically put all other photos with him in them to face down- he was into the game and I was delighted to see him invested.

Will strode forward. "Hey, you like our home?"

Nico nodded. "It's lovely." His eyes ran over the cheesy rainbow flag bunting we put up last year and never took down. "It's great that you're so open in who you are, too."

I slung an arm over Will's shoulders. "Thank you, hun." I took a slight risk. "You could be too, y'know."

Shaking his head, Nico folded in on himself. "Maybe. Not right now, though."

Sidling up to him, I nudged his shoulder. "No, of course not, it's just us right now." Nico leaned slightly into my side and I looked back at Will, as if to ask him something.

He came up on the other side of Nico. "So, me and my partner were wondering, of course you can say no, it's just a suggestion, but-"

I interrupted. "Get to the point, darling."

Will pretended to glare at me. "What am I supposed to do," he hissed, just loud enough for both Nico and me to hear. "Just tell him we want to fuck him? I have manners!"

Nico coughed lightly, and both Will and I froze as if we'd been caught.

"Y-you..." Nico swallowed, trying to keep the smile off his face. "You want to- fuck me?"

I sighed, gently turning Nico to face me. "I'm not gonna lie to you, we may have had an ulterior motive in offering you a place to stay for the night, but that doesn't mean you owe us anything, okay? If you don't want to, then we can order pizza, watch a movie and make up the sofa for you to crash on."

Will, careful not to spook Nico, wrapped his arms around his waist from behind. "But, if you want to, my partner and I would love to..." He paused, considering his words. "...make you feel good, darlin', in any way you'd like."

Nico took a shuddering breath, trying to hide how much this idea was affecting him. "I-I don't know what I'd like, I've never been with..."

"That's alright, honey." I reached up and tucked his dark curls behind his ear. "We can help you figure that out, if you'd like." He looked at me with such trust in his expression I almost caved. This was the innocence that was hidden from him, but was still there, it just needed a little coaxing to come out. "So, what do you say, handsome?"

Under the careful ministrations of both me and Will, Nico relaxed and nodded. "O-okay, yes, I'd like that."

A grin spread across my lips and I trailed my hand from his cheek, along his neck, down his arm and twisted my fingers in his. "Then come this way, we'll take care of you, we promise."

I led the three of us into the bedroom. We sat Nico down on the bed, and his eyes drifted to the things on the bedside table. Will explained the condoms and the lube and that there was a bunch of toys in the drawer below that we didn't need to use but were there in case he wanted to see what they did.

Slipping onto the sheets beside Nico, I rested a hand on the back of his neck as Will explained in a way he would to someone that had no idea what they were doing. This kept Nico grounded and meant I could feel his heartbeat, blood thumping through him and giving away how excited he was.

"Will, baby," I interrupted. "I think he gets the idea."

Will grinned sheepishly. "I just want him to know what could happen." He kneeled down, leaning a hand on Nico's knee. "You still okay with everything still?"

Nico nodded, and I guided his head to face me. "Hey, can I kiss you?"

Instead of a verbal answer, Nico pushed into my space, wrapping his arms around my neck and kissing me hard. I reciprocated with as much fervour, closing my eyes and enjoying the familiar experience of kissing one of my partners. My arms secured around his waist and I hoisted him into my lap, drinking the whine from his lips.

Will pulled gently on the hem of Nico's shirt, pulling it off only when Nico pulled away from me very briefly. I ran my hands over his bare torso, thrilled with the hitch of breath I got when I ghosted my fingers over his nipples. I dragged my nails over them again and was rewarded with Nico throwing his head back and moaning from deep in his chest.

His hips were shifting, clearly getting uncomfortable. I broke away from where I'd been nipping a lovely flower patch of red and purple into his skin to look at Will.

Eyes hungry and wanting, Will was also shirtless and hard in his sweatpants. I raised an eyebrow. "Nico, sweetheart, hop off me for a moment, will you?" It took a moment for him to respond, but he obediently wiggled off my lap.

I slipped off my trousers, exposing my legs and shuffled back until I had my back against the headboard, the pillows holding me at an angle. Beckoning for Nico to come back, he crawled over and I positioned him until his back was against my chest. Will fell on the bed, eyeing Nico like a predator does prey.

Breathing against Nico's ear, I shot a wicked grin Will's way. "You wanna get fucked, handsome?" Nico's back arched against me and I felt the desperate groan more than I heard it.

"F-fuck, yes-!"

Will stripped Nico of the rest of his clothes, licking his lips at the sight of Nico's cock, red and hard and drippy with precum. "I'm gonna prep you first, okay darlin'? You think you can handle that?"

Nico nodded frantically. I smoothed my hand along the planes of Nico's ribs and hips. "Be nice, Will, he's new to all this."

I delighted in the twin moans that drew from my partners. Carefully, I reached down and pulled Nico's legs apart, thighs exposing him and a delicious blush spreading down his chest.

Grabbing the lube, Will coated his fingers in the substance and kneeled between Nico's legs. He winked. "I'll be gentle, promise."

Nico keened as the first finger eased into him, body adjusting to the intrusion and relaxing as I pressed kisses into his hair and Will went slow and soft, keeping up the pretense that this wasn't an intimately familiar situation.

"So good for me," Will breathed as Nico took a second finger, then a third. "Such a good boy for us, Nico." Said 'good boy' preened under the attention, body limp and pliable against me.

It didn't take long for Will to withdraw his hand. Nico let out a broken cry of want, and I shushed him in his ear. "Shh, I know, baby, I know, but don't you want Will to fuck you? Be the first one to experience you like this?"

Nico dug his nails into my legs bracketing him and nodded frantically. "P-please, I need him, I-I need him to f-fuck me so bad-!"

I grinned, lazily drawing circles around his nipples. "Aww, so precious, baby, wanna be fucked so bad." I looked back to Will applying a condom and hissing as he jerked himself with lube. "Don't keep us waiting, honey, you heard him."

Will practically leapt on Nico, catching him in a heavy kiss, tongues moving lazily and I held my hips as still as I could, occasionally grinding up against Nico.

They broke apart and Will sat back, lifting Nico's hips up and massaging his hole with a thumb. "You want me to fuck you, huh?" Nico rolled his hips in a frankly obscene way, and Will could stand it no longer.

He guided his cock into Nico, and I had the pleasure of hearing their sighs and moans at finally, finally getting some relief. The jealous part of me reared its head for just a second before it was pushed down by the delicious sight of Will fucking into Nico at a slow, steady pace, cock dragging against insides with wonderful friction. They fit together so well, I was so lucky to know and love and be known and loved in return.

I felt my body rocking in tandem with Will's thrusts, my hands firmly on Nico's waist to stop him wriggling too much. Whimpers and moans sang in my ears and it became harder and harder to not reach down and touch myself to the sights and sounds and sensations.

Will's breathing got heavier and heavier. "I-I'm gonna come, darlin', feels so fuckin' good, my gorgeous boy..."

I reached down and wrapped a hand around Nico's cock, hardly moving as the force of Will's thrusts let Nico fuck my hand. Nico grasped at the sheets, eyes rolling back in his head. "Sh-shit...!"

Nico came with a broken cry, tears spilling over his cheeks and Will buried himself to the hilt inside Nico, spilling into the condom with a throaty groan and leaving red fingerprints on Nico's hips.

The moment was quiet, panting as the only noise.

Very gently, Will pulled out, kissing Nico's knees apologetically as he hissed in overstimulation. In the softest voice, Will murmured, "I'll be back, gimme a sec." He slipped off the bed, legs slightly shaky and wobbled to the bathroom.

With as much effort as he could master, Nico rolled off me, pulling me down to lay with him face to face. Eyelids low, fucked out expression on his face, he gave me a small smile. "You didn't come."

I shook my head. "It's fine, gorgeous, this was about you, remember?"

In response, Nico nudged his leg between mine, pushing his thigh against me as he threw an arm around my waist and moving as close to me as he could get. His voice was breathy and worn out and unbelieveably sexy. "Use me."

Still keyed up from the sight of my partners lost in pleasure and with Nico's thigh between my legs applying a delectable amount of pressure, I rolled my hips against him. "That's it," Nico tucked his face into my neck, laving his tongue over my pulse point. I shivered and felt him grin. "Use me, sweetheart, I know you want to, I wanna feel you come, please?"

Well, when he asked so nicely, what could I do but obey? I grinded against Nico's leg, breathing hard and letting my boyfriend trace shapes with his tongue against my skin. In a few minutes I was right on the edge. Nico reached his hand down and into my underwear and in the next few seconds I was coming, soaking my underwear and his hand and his thigh. "So good, fuck, you look so good when you come."

"Oh shut up." I blushed hard and Nico kissed my cheek.

"Absolutely not."

Will returned, accompanied with towels and the sound of a running bath behind him. "Come on, this isn't over, we're still taking care of you, Neeks."

Rolling his eyes, Nico bit gently into my neck and I squeaked. "Nico!"

He sat up, a shit-eating grin on his face. "I'll come be taken care of, but only if I get to make you come properly." His eyes burned into mine, and I was helpless.

"You get an attitude after sex, you know that?"

Nico grinned, then his eyes widened, looking between me and Will. "Hey, guys? I think I might be gay."

Will face-palmed as Nico cackled. "Just get in the bath, Neeks."

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okay this took me like almost 2 hours to write so i am in Pain but i hope you enjoyed!!

#solangelo #solangelo smut #solangelo x reader #solangelo imagine #child of eros!reader #will solace x reader #will solace smut #will solace imagine #nico di angelo imagines #nico di angelo x reader #nico di angelo smut #nico x will

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kayewrite · 5 months ago

Text

Stack of Books

(blue sticky note ending #1)

han jisung x reader x ot8!! han x reader!!! word count: 3.2k

Blue note alternative ending 1 wherein; you choose han jisung. the friend you hide your feelings for a long time.

an: i made han first because aside from i love his character here, a lot dm'd me to do him first. and i hope you liked it because i put my emotions doing this.

an2: im tagging random people im sorry. if you want to be tagged, don't be afraid to tell me

part 1 and part 2 first

Han Jisung is a friend.

That's what you always told yourself whenever you looked at him and felt the butterflies rumbling in your stomach. But when did those feelings start?

It began the day he sang a song just for you.

You always thought of Han as studious, always with his nose in his stack of books, glasses perched on his nose. Whenever exams loomed, you'd choose him as your study partner, knowing his dedication would motivate you to work harder too. He was the perfect study buddy—focused, reliable, always encouraging you when you felt overwhelmed.

You knew he loved to sing; he often harmonized with Chan, his voice effortlessly slipping into the role of a vocalist whenever they worked on a track together. But seeing him holding a guitar, carefully tuning it, that was something new. Something that stirred a different feeling in you.

When he started singing, that’s when it happened—the spark that set everything else in motion. You were in middle school then, and though you were too young to fully understand it, you knew something had shifted inside you.

From that moment on, you hid your feelings. You were terrified that the bond you'd built would change, that Han would notice the way you lingered a little too long when your eyes met. Besides, it didn’t seem like he was ready for anything more than friendship.

When you first met him, he was crying, heartbroken. That image stuck with you, the way his eyes were red and puffy, the way his voice cracked as he tried to explain what had happened. It made you think, Han must have trauma with love. So you buried your feelings even deeper, where he wouldn’t find them.

As the years passed, you both entered college. Han was as hardworking as ever, never sticking to just one job, always pushing himself to do more. He was always busy, always moving. And that, too, kept your feelings locked away.

But then, when you found out he liked you, it felt surreal. How could this be happening? And when you realized it wasn’t just him… that others had feelings for you too, the weight of it all came crashing down. You felt miserable, confused. How did it all come to this?

You cried in your room, your mind swirling with questions and doubts. You didn’t want to choose anyone because you were terrified it would break the friendships you’d worked so hard to build. But deep down, you knew the real reason—there was someone already in your heart, and the thought of choosing him terrified you.

Love is hard, Han had once said to you, and now, more than ever, you understood what he meant.

You’d always been in love with your friend, Han Jisung. And when you received that blue note, a part of you desperately wanted to believe it was from him. But when the truth came out—that everyone had feelings for you—your instinct was to bury your love even deeper, where it couldn’t hurt anyone.

A sudden knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts. You opened it, and there he was—Han, standing in the dim light of the hallway.

Without a word, you collapsed into his arms, letting the tears you’d held back for so long finally flow. All the emotions you’d kept bottled up spilled out as you clung to him, needing the comfort of his presence.

“I’m so sorry,” Han whispered, his voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. We didn’t mean to make you feel this way. Chan talked to us… he told us everything.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him. His eyes, even in the dark, were shining with a sadness that mirrored your own.

“It’s not your fault,” you said softly, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “I just… I never expected things to turn out like this.”

Han’s gaze dropped to the floor, his expression pained. “I should have kept it to myself. None of this would have happened if I had just—”

“Don’t say that,” you interrupted, your voice firmer now. “It’s not your fault.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the weight of everything unsaid hanging in the air. Then, as the silence grew heavier, you spoke, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

“I liked you, Han. I’ve always liked you.”

The confession slipped out, and you immediately regretted it, your heart pounding in your chest. Han’s eyes widened, surprise and something else—something unreadable—flickering across his face.

“You… you liked me?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, looking away, your cheeks burning. “I'm sorry. I can't help but…to say it."

But instead of pulling away, Han took a step closer, his hand gently tilting your chin up so you were forced to meet his gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I was scared,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. And then, when I found out about everyone else… I thought it would be better to just keep it to myself.”

Han’s grip on your chin softened, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “I wish you’d told me,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. “I wish I’d known.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the air thick with everything left unsaid. Then, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, Han leaned in closer, his face inches from yours.

But just before your lips could touch, you turned your head away, breaking the moment. “I can’t, Han,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He froze, his breath hitching as he realized what you meant. “I… I understand,” he said, pulling back slightly, though the hurt in his eyes was clear. “But why? Why are you so scared? Is it because you’re afraid of hurting others?”

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to lose anyone. I don’t want to break the friendships we’ve built.”

Han was silent for a moment, then he gently took your hand in his. “Why don’t you just choose yourself?” he asked quietly. “Choose what you want. Listen to your heart, not what you think others want.”

His words hit you like a wave, the simplicity and truth of them sinking in. Slowly, you turned back to him, and as your eyes met, you saw something in his gaze that gave you the courage to lean in this time.

Monday arrived with a heaviness in your chest that you couldn't quite shake. You walked into school, trying to appear normal, but the weight of everything that had happened over the weekend lingered in your mind. As you entered the classroom and took your seat, you could feel the eyes of Changbin and Seungmin on you, their concern palpable even without words.

You glanced up and forced a small smile, hoping it would be enough to ease their worries. Changbin returned the smile, though you could see the tension in his expression soften slightly.

The day dragged on, with every minute feeling like an hour. Your thoughts kept drifting back to the events that had turned your world upside down.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, you began to pack your things, your movements slow and deliberate. You were lost in thought when Changbin suddenly appeared beside you, his presence breaking through your reverie. Without a word, he reached out and gently took hold of your wrist.

“Let’s talk,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

Before you could respond, he was already guiding you out of the classroom, his grip on your wrist both comforting and insistent. You glanced back at Seungmin, who was watching the two of you with an unreadable expression. He didn’t say anything, just gave you a slight nod, as if to give his silent approval for whatever conversation was about to unfold.

Changbin led you to an empty room, far from the prying eyes of your classmates. The door closed behind you with a soft click, sealing the two of you in a bubble of tense silence. He let go of your wrist slowly, his fingers lingering for just a moment before he stepped back, giving you space.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet between you was thick with unspoken words and emotions that neither of you knew how to express. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the anxiety twisting in your stomach as you waited for him to speak.

Finally, Changbin broke the silence. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and filled with regret.

You blinked, not expecting those words to be the first thing out of his mouth. “Why would you be sorry?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked down at the floor, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Because… I know this has been hard on you. I didn’t want to make things complicated. I didn’t want to scare you.”

His words hung in the air, and you felt a pang of guilt twist in your chest. You understood what he was trying to say. Love wasn’t something anyone could control, and feelings, once they took root, were difficult to stop. You knew that all too well.

“I understand,” you said softly, trying to find the right words. “But you don’t have to apologize for how you feel. None of this is your fault.”

Changbin looked up at you then, his eyes filled with a sadness that took your breath away. “I didn’t want anything to change between us,” he admitted, his voice wavering. “That’s why I was a coward. I couldn’t bring myself to say it, so I… I put that note in your binder instead. Like Minho said… it was a coward’s move.”

You hesitated for a moment, the truth sitting heavily on your tongue. But you knew you couldn’t keep it to yourself any longer. “Changbin… I need to tell you something,” you began, your heart racing. “I like Han.”

The words fell from your lips, and you watched as they hit Changbin like a physical blow. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked like he’d been punched in the gut. But then he quickly composed himself, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he said, though his voice was strained. “I kind of figured… I mean, I always noticed how you looked at him. It’s okay. We can still be friends, right?”

You nodded, though you could see the hurt in his eyes, the way he was trying so hard to pretend it didn’t matter. “Of course, we can,” you assured him, even though you both knew things wouldn’t be the same.

Changbin’s smile faltered, and he looked away, swallowing hard. “This is my punishment,” he said, more to himself than to you. “For playing around with hearts… for being careless.”

“Changbin…” you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll take it. I’ll take the punishment,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “But I just want you to be happy, okay? Even if it’s not with me.”

With that, he turned and left the room, leaving you standing there with the weight of his words pressing down on you.

Jeongin, who always had a knack for making sure you were okay, suddenly sent you a text.

Jeongin: "Hey, how are you?"

You stared at the screen for a moment, unsure of how to respond. The events of the day weighed heavily on your heart, and for once, you decided not to hide it.

You: "I'm not okay."

His reply came almost instantly.

Jeongin: "Where are you? Let me treat you to your favorite toothpaste-flavored ice cream."

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but smile at his offer. Jeongin knew you too well. The thought of him wanting to keep things normal, to not let anything change between you, filled you with a warmth that eased some of the tension in your chest.

You agreed to meet him at the usual ice cream shop, the one that always smelled of fresh waffle cones and sugary sweetness. When you arrived, Jeongin was already there, waiting for you with a familiar smile. He handed you your favorite mint chocolate ice cream without a word, as if it were a remedy for all your troubles.

You sat down across from him, and he watched you eat, his eyes filled with a quiet concern. He always had this way of making you feel like everything was going to be okay, even when it wasn’t.

After a few minutes, Jeongin finally spoke up. “So, did you talk to Han?”

His question caught you off guard, and your hand froze mid-bite. The truth was, Jeongin knew more than you’d ever admitted out loud. He’d seen it long before you were willing to accept it yourself—the way your eyes lingered on Han, the way your heart seemed to beat a little faster whenever he was near.

Jeongin had always known.

You looked down at your ice cream, unable to meet his eyes. “Yes,” you murmured.

Jeongin nodded, as if he expected that answer. “You know,” he began, his voice gentle, “I’ve known for a while that you liked Han. I saw it from the beginning.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, and tears welled up in your eyes. Before you could wipe them away, Jeongin slid a tissue across the table, his lips curving into a soft smile.

“You look like a kid right now,” he teased lightly. “You’re a year older than me, but sometimes it feels like you’re years younger.”

His playful tone made you laugh, even as you took the tissue and dabbed at your eyes. Jeongin always had a way of lightening the mood, of making everything seem a little less heavy, a little less painful.

“What’s your plan?” he asked, his tone turning more serious.

You sighed, shaking your head. “I don’t know, Jeongin. I really don’t know.”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Well, if you don’t know the answer, I’m always here, you know. Just in case.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his playful tone, and Jeongin joined in, his laughter warm and genuine. The sound of it eased some of the burden you’d been carrying, and for a moment, you could almost forget the chaos that had become your life.

Then Jeongin’s expression softened, and he reached across the table to take your hand in his. “Whatever happens, I’ll always be here for you,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “As a friend.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the unwavering support and care that had always been there. Jeongin wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better; he truly meant it. No matter what happened, no matter how complicated things became, you knew you could always count on him.

And that realization brought you a comfort that you desperately needed.

You watched Han from your seat, your gaze fixated on him as he stood behind the counter of the library. His attention was focused on the task at hand, scanning the barcodes of borrowed books with a meticulous precision. The afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow on his features, highlighting the way his glasses framed his eyes. Every now and then, he would adjust them, a small habit you found oddly endearing.

He was always so serious when he worked, so dedicated and focused. It was one of the many things you admired about him. There was something about the way he moved, the quiet efficiency in his actions, that never failed to draw you in.

As you continued to watch him, lost in your thoughts, he suddenly looked up. Your eyes met, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. Han’s expression softened, and he offered you a small, warm smile. It was a smile that reached his eyes, causing them to crinkle at the corners in that familiar way that always made your heart flutter.

You smiled back, your lips curving into a soft grin, the connection between you lingering in the air.

Now, the two of you were seated across from each other at one of the small wooden tables nestled in a quiet corner of the library. Han had finished his shift and joined you without a word, simply taking a seat opposite you. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it was filled with an understanding that had developed over years of friendship.

You found yourself just looking at him, really looking at him, and suddenly, the weight of everything you’d kept hidden felt overwhelming. The feelings you had tried so hard to suppress, to deny, surged to the surface with a force that left you breathless. You realized, with startling clarity, just how much you liked him—how much you had always liked him.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached out, your hand trembling slightly as it found his. His skin was warm against yours, and the simple act of holding his hand felt like a bridge you were finally crossing after standing on the edge for so long.

Your thoughts raced back to all the times you had convinced yourself to stay silent, to keep your feelings hidden for the sake of your friendship. You had tried so hard, told yourself that it was better this way, safer. But now, sitting here with him, with his hand in yours, it all felt so futile, so unnecessary.

A small, bittersweet smile played on your lips as you finally allowed the truth to escape. “I like you, Han.”

The words felt both wrong and right at the same time. Wrong because you had been so determined to never let them slip, and right because, at this moment, it felt like a release, a weight lifted off your shoulders. The vulnerability in your voice made your heart race, but it also brought a sense of relief you hadn’t expected.

Han’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but only for a moment. Then, his expression softened, and he squeezed your hand gently. “You don’t know how much I like you.”

A quiet, shared laugh bubbled up between you, both of you mindful of the library’s hushed atmosphere. It was a laugh filled with nervousness and relief, a shared understanding that you had finally crossed a line that had been looming between you for so long.

As you sat there, your hands still intertwined, you realized something important. No matter how hard you had tried to control your feelings, to dictate what your heart should or shouldn’t do, it was impossible. The heart had a mind of its own, leading you to places you hadn’t expected, to emotions you hadn’t planned.

You couldn’t force yourself to stop liking him, just as you couldn’t force your heart to stay silent any longer. And now, sitting here with Han, his hand in yours, you were glad you hadn’t tried to.

----

blue sticky note part 1. part 2.

an: ill do minho next

@rose-strk @spearbinnie0327 @ihrtlix @dontaskmemybias @kay-bear200 @hpnsfwaddict @hug4helios @furioussheepluminary @stay-tiny-things @velvetmoonlght @thejentheredhead @wolfiescosplay @eatjin97 @sleepytemper @tajannah-price1 @butterflydemons @just-a-mindless-reader

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #han jisung #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #han jisung x y/n #han x reader #han x you #han x y/n #jisung x reader #jisung x you #ot8 x reader #stray kids ot8

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ms0milk · 4 months ago

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✧ forget-me-nots ✧

trying to pass on some of the appreciation I receive here because it's crazy to break the 4th wall for a second and really internalize how this community is driven by creativity and mutual loving. here's a list in random order of my most dear to me loves + a few nonmutuals whose work i think of often, and the pieces that remind me most of them

when they come for you in the night (thorfinn x reader) | @gardenofnoah

the depth of dive i had to take through your blog to find this is just.. the moment i hit "when you’ve known nothing but cruelty, kindness would surely be terrifying" it was game over. thorfinn came so so to life and this was such a stunnning introduction to your style. youve written so much now and i find myself always totally stunned! but i still always think of this one first. (i give it all to you also spills out of my brain sometimes while im trying to go about the world and was a close contender + this bkg x feral creature little piece of wonderful)

you. that's what happened, you (maki x reader) | @neiptune

you already know, i would be a godless liar if said i didn't think about this weekly; the maki rizz is heretofore unmatched, this piece went above and beyond all req expectations, “hold my hand, they’ll think something’s wrong if you don’t” will be the epitaph on my tombstone. you have the power to make me love all those boys ive never even thought about, and when it was time to write for my actual wife you cracked your knuckles and made sure id never be satisfied by another! (aint that the worst thing you ever heard also reminds me of you sm, eren aot of all people)

unsubtle pro shinsou drabble | @moonbeamwritings

i can feel the heat of shinsou's crush through both our screens it is just perfection!!! what a dweeb. love to send this to myself so its easy to find and reread on the regular

To Shape a Home (bkg x reader) | @kweenkatsuki-fics

not only do the stardew vibes shine through every corner, this fic was carved out with such care it makes the relationship + bkg's growth all the more precious! "yer nothin’ to go nuts over." was an insane introduction and the two of them only got better and better and sweeter and stickier with time (ao3 tagged bc i cant find your beautiful masterlist marquie sosrrrrry)

bittersweet (vash x reader) | @heich0e

i remember exactly where i was when i read this for the first time and I remember how excited I was to find a vash fic after so long loving trigun! i didn't even know the new series had been released yet! this was agonizing, such a soft characterization for both, and the desert was so palpable-- the setting really added so much spice to an already seasoned piece

hanafuda (tanjiro x reader) | @cherryblossomsenpai

way way back in 2022 this was one of the first tanjiro pieces i ever read that really made a romantic argument for him. love his exhaustion, exasperation, fear and relief all wrapped up in one hug "The rest of his lecture is indecipherable," bc he's just crying so hard! total sweetheart, so in character

kirishima drunk girl wrangler | @mechamedusa

dusa🫱🏻‍🫲🏼kirishima ofc your kiri thoughts are unmatched and this one is so quintessential, when i think of him i think of you. he is so wrangler shaped! the perfect boyfriend, your mind is a treasure trove

wedding vows (hashira x reader) | @meowzfordayz

to my very first friend <3 you'd think the piece i associate most with you would be one of giyuus and you write so so impressively much it was hard to decide, but this hashira drabble wrung me by the neck when I first read it, and it still crushes me that your kyojuro isn't a real man i can go outside and hunt for sport. "I have an energy bar in my suit pocket — just in case." a snack for his partner at their own wedding put me down, love your mind always

sleepy rengoku drabble | @vampcubus

my femdom queen! why was it so hard for me to remember which character this was written for? reader's rizz blinded me, thank you for introducing me to dom!reader works bc now every sexy hc i have is filtered through the puppysub filter to make all those big strong boys tastefully more submissive

anything to do with anika~ | @ltadoriyuujl

love your oc, she's such a caring nuclear bomb! loved reading your wonderful chara exploration piece and being able to write for her myself! what a trust fall

the only exception (yuuji x reader) | @touyangel

yuuji is such a boyscout at the end of the world, even in total tragedy he is kind and calm and caring. thinking about "If he wasn’t teaching you how to decapitate something that used to be human, it might have been romantic." this one hurts so so good and very easily convinced me love on him. even with all the choso pieces of yours I adore, this yuuji piece reminds me most of you (this sick choso drabble is a close second!)

menthol (aki x reader) | @cyancherub

the smut hall of fame all time champion on my knees on the floor kicking my feet and smiling, love the characterization in this piece! car guy/childhood friend/overprotective/smoke sess/ so intimate and perfectly filthy. a tried and true classic, this is a blessing

fill my little world right up (aizawa x reader) | @shibaraki

the fic of all time yeah, WHAT a way to be introduced to your writing and what a privilege! this piece is just a beating heart, every action and character introduction felt like a memory, the love was so palpable. reread this one all the time, can't believe it's free, want to bind a copy for my bookshelf

cor unum (sukuna x reader) | @vampyrsm

this was the first writing i ever saw from you and in an effort of solidarity (im finishing a longform fic as well and holy fuck) i've very recently started reading and can already tell how much care you had for this world and its characters. the dedication to setting and history is so cool and rare in reader fics, can't believe you're letting us read all this for free! what a tome, seriously looking forward to it (and this bkg thought abt crowded places! mmm)

i love you more than being seventeen (nanami x reader) | @strawberrystepmom

this fucking guy oh my god, this fic almost put me in the hospital, so so glad you reposted. "hey. I love you." OOhhhHHGoowwAWAWAAAA this is such a timeless character piece-- nanami running away from this word he hates, job he hates, girl he loves, and coming back to it all knowing he'll die and knowing its worth it. i get chills

strawberry stars on my lips (bkg x reader) | @willowser

breaking the rules of speed dating is insanely romantic, probably the most romantic thing someone has ever thought of and this is the piece i think of when i think of your blog. bkg is simultaneously so constipated and so vulnerable i almost feel like i have to cover my eyes for him and it is sugary sweet in the best way. happy hiatus!

#appreciate you all and more!#pmme.txt

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lovingmayday · 2 years ago

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Miguel O'Hara Spiderman Kiss

warnings : none?

notes : another one that's been stuck in my head for a while. god, i love this man so much its unbearable

There is no doubt that Miguel O'Hara is Spiderman– well, a Spiderman, one of many. He was never bitten but he was genetically modified to have a balance of both man and spider. Although he doesn't have eight eyes and legs, he can shoot webs from his wrists, has fangs that release a paralyzing venom, has claws that surface at the pads of his fingers, and has all of his senses heightened.

He can do pretty much what every other Spiderman can and more.

Except.. stick on walls.

He can climb them, sure, using his claws to dig on any surface. But, let's say, the upside down elevator in Spider Headquarters. He'd have to be webbing himself to the platform if he wishes to not make a fool of himself in front of other Spider-people.

This wasn't a problem to you; you didn't care.. Until you watched the movie.

You asked Jess if she could let you watch one from her dimension because your's didn't have them. She was hesitant but you were so, so curious. What were other spider-people's life like? Your own partner was Spiderman but he barely shares anything about his work. Jess sighs and brings you a flashdrive the next time she came over to your and Miguel's world for dinner.

When you reached the upside down kiss, you were in stunned awe. It was.. a scene. The progression of your reaction was: Oh. Oh... Wow.. That was amazing!

So, you had commenced a plan. When Miguel comes home, you will subtly bring up the movie. You say it's from Jess and pretend you waited for him before watching. You let him find out for himself that it was a Spiderman movie and he rolls his eyes, the urge to walk away persuading him for a moment before settling with an annoyed sigh.

The scene comes up and you cautiously glance at him a few times to observe his reaction. You have yet to pick up anything else from his face other than his resting frown, until he speaks up.

"Wouldn't the rain go down to his nose? He can't be breathing properly like that.." he quietly states and your shoulders slump the tiniest bit. Miguel had an arm draped behind you so you prayed he didn't notice.

"Yeah, I guess," you reply quietly. You didn't know what you were expecting. The position wasn't ideal, anyways. And your hollow apartment ceiling probably couldn't hold Miguel up even if he webbed himself to it, you reason.

The movie finishes and you sit there unmoving for a few moments before nodding your head. It was a great movie. It was sad to think that it was a different dimension's Spiderman's real life but that's to be expected, unfortunately.

You look up at Miguel when he stood from his seat on the couch. "What'd you think of it?" you ask, eyes following his figure when he steadily walked around the couch. Your head rests on the sofa's back when he stops directly behind you, your perspective of him upside down.

"'twas fine," he briefly says.

"What are you doing?" you ask once again, smiling up at him.

You watch as he slowly bends down, hands on the space by the sides of your head. Your eyes widen by a fraction when lips make contact with yours. He was soft and gentle, his touch and scent enveloping your senses. It didn't take you long to respond, humming contently. You close your eyes and raise your hands to cup his cheeks, leaning upwards to deepen the kiss.

By the time you pull back, the both of you were panting. Looking into each others' eyes through opposite lenses. A small smile displays on his lips before pressing another shorter kiss on your lips.

"Ask for it next time, yeah?"

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #spiderman #miguel atsv #atsv #spiderman 2099 x you

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shuadotcom · 2 years ago

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Take Me Higher | CHS (M)

🍃Summary: Yeah, your first real party was completely different than you had imagined, but it was even better than you had hoped.

🍃Pairing: Stoner!Vernon x Stoner!Afab Reader

🍃Genres & AUs: Smut, a dash of fluff, friends to lovers au, pwp

🍃Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

🍃Content/Warnings: Marijuana usage, mention of alcohol, profanity, protective sex, cunnilingus, fingering, handjob, bathroom sex, sex while high (they’re both faded but they like each other and are consenting), multiple orgasms, dry-humping, allusion to big dick!vernon, reader has boobs and a vagina but no gendered terms are used for y/n

🍃Words: 6.1k

🍃Note: As a cannabis connoisseur myself, I love stoner!vernon fics and will read any and every single one so it was only a matter of time before I wrote my own. Truly it was a mighty need - especially blue hoodie Vernon because that's my favorite shoot of his. This is based off of a slightly true story of my first adult party years ago. Y/n has a much better partner and time than I did though 😂

I also listened to Rihanna's Anti album (aka the last album she'll give us 😭) a lot when writing this for whatever reason.

Thank you bestie @the-boy-meets-evil for being my beta!🫶🏽

Tagging the lovely @kthpurplesyou 😘

🍃Net Tag: @kflixnet

Tonight was turning out to be different than you ever thought it’d be. It’s your first-ever real party and it was turning out to be much less notable than you’d have imagined. Growing up, you had been a typical wallflower with a tiny group of friends that were as introverted as you, so you never knew people who threw parties, and you sure as hell weren’t “important enough” to get invited to them. Nothing much had changed from middle school and even through college.

It’s not until you’re well into your young adulthood that you receive your first party invitation. It comes from your oldest friend, Joshua, whom you recently reconnected with. You had practically grown up with him and when he and his family moved away, your communication eventually lessened with life and timezones in the way. It isn’t until you just so happen to move near him after college that you start hanging out again. He sends you an Instagram message after happening to see a location close to him that you tagged in a post.

You and Joshua easily pick your long-dormant friendship back up, getting along as perfectly as you had years ago. Your closeness and trust are quickly restored in him the more time you spend together. It’s why when he invites you to a party a friend of his is throwing, you jump at the chance.

Having never been to a party, you only had the tv shows and movies you watched to go off of as to what the atmosphere would be like. You imagine loud, deafening music, drunk people spread all over the poorly lit house, the air reeking of alcohol, and too many people.

In reality, the lights are on around the house as expected and the music that plays over a speaker in the living room is loud enough to get lost in while dancing but not so loud that you couldn’t hold a conversation. Instead of smelling like nothing but alcohol, the air only smelt of pizza and an artificial air freshener, with a hint of beer.

There are only a few handfuls of people milling about, most of whom Joshua and Jeonghan - his other close friend who came with the two of you - had long since introduced you to.

One of whom you’ve spent the most time with when you hang out with Joshua and his friends and are the most familiar with. You have a ton in common and always feel comfortable around him.

He also happens to be the friend that you have an embarrassingly huge crush on.

“Hey, Vernon!” Joshua calls his name as the three of you file down the basement stairs where it looks like most of the guests are.

Vernon turns from his conversation to find you three and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think his smile widened when he made eye contact with you.

He says something to the guy he’s talking to before approaching you all.

“Hey, Josh, Jeonghan. Hi, Y/n. Thanks for coming.”

“Obviously we’d show up! I don’t think anyone has thrown a party just for fun in months. And I knew you wouldn’t mind if I brought Y/n. It’s baby’s first party!” Joshua throws his arm around your shoulders, bringing you forward from your spot nearly hiding behind him. You’re not too flustered that you can’t pinch him in the side for exposing you so willingly.

“Of course, I don’t mind!” Vernon rushes out, maybe even a little too loud. He clears his throat, breathing out an awkward laugh. “Anyway yeah, Seungkwan and Chan were feeling particularly social this weekend so I didn’t have much of a say but it’s cool.” Vernon scans the room, pointing out his two roommates across the room as he says their names. “Tonight won’t be anything crazy so don’t worry.” He says the last part to you, a sweet smile on his pretty lips.

As if they could tell they were being talked about, Seungkwan and Chan spot the group of you and are over in an instant, thanking you for coming and guiding you over to where all the snacks and drinks are while Vernon trails behind.

Truth be told, the whole party feels as if it’s a normal hang-out session with everyone. Sure some people get a little more drunk than usual and there’s more dancing and obnoxious singing than there typically is on any other Saturday night, but overall it’s nothing like the parties in movies. No one is swinging from the ceiling naked and drunk off their asses (unless you count Soonyoung shirtless and screaming at the top of his lungs to the karaoke song he’s doing, but no one is too concerned).

You’re even more grateful that you decided on jeans and a nicer shirt after agonizing over what to wear for days. Everyone was in the most normal clothes which took a lot of the pressure you had initially felt off of you. This includes Vernon, who was in jeans and an oversized, cozy-looking hoodie in the prettiest shade of baby blue. You could barely keep your eyes off of him, not that you really tried. He didn’t make it any easier, seeing how he hasn’t moved from your general vicinity all night.

Whether it was near the snack table, upstairs for a little while, or standing near Joshua and Jeonghan as they played beer pong, Vernon hasn’t been far, mostly talking to the two men or any other people around you, occasionally trying to bring you into the conversation. You’ve been doing your best to contribute, but your nerves about not knowing what to do with yourself, paired with the butterflies in your stomach that erupt whenever Vernon so much as looks at you, have you feeling a little out of your element.

At some point in the night, Jeonghan wanders off and Vernon disappears for a bit. You and Joshua are standing near the drinks, trying a few different shots and you hate them all. You nearly forgot how much you dislike the taste of most alcohol.

“So when are you going to tell Vernon you’re into him?” Joshua’s question is abrupt and he knows it. It’s why he snickers, watching your face contort as you choke on the shot of Patron you just knocked back, which you instantly regret.

“When am I going to what?!”

Joshua shrugs, taking a shot himself, his eyebrows only knitting a little.

“You heard me. And don’t act so surprised. Watching the two of you steal glances at each other all night and then act all shy as if you weren’t doing that was cute for the first five minutes, but enough is enough!” Joshua reaches for another shot, but you smack his hand, demanding why he thinks you like his friend. You haven’t told a soul about your crush on Vernon.

He’s about to say something else, but then Vernon shows up and your attention locks onto him.

“Hey guys, I’m heading outside if you want to come.” His eyes linger on yours and you momentarily forget how to speak so Joshua answers for you, letting him know that you’ll both be joining him.

It’s late and you’re not sure what time it is, but the sky is full of tiny stars, providing faint light to the group of people sitting outside. The small circle of people is sitting on lawn chairs surrounding a brightly shining lantern and a bong as they take turns passing it around. The three of you take the spots still open with you between Joshua and Vernon.

You didn’t forget what Joshua said inside, but put your interrogation on the back burner.

You’ve smoked weed before, in fact, you do so multiple days of the week. It’d been your chosen way to destress with friends before you moved and even more so now as you quickly learned that Vernon was the stoner friend in this group. If everyone was going to be hanging out and Vernon was there, there’d inevitably be edibles or a joint passed around. In your mind, you were practically perfect for each other.

The other partygoers greet you, and Vernon immediately takes the bong from the person next to him. Joshua falls into conversation with Wonwoo on his other side which gives you time to study Vernon.

He rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie, his forearms on full display. His movements are effortless as he leans forward to grab a pinch of weed from the grinder tin on the small table in front of you. His fingers, always looking so long, nimbly pack the bowl of the bong. He uses his middle finger to gently press it down as his eyebrows knit in concentration and his lips purse just a tiny bit.

Your eyes never leave him as he places his lips into the mouthpiece and uses his free hand to grab a lighter on the table. Vernon lights the bowl with skilled fingers, inhaling gently but confidently, then removes it. His eyelids flutter closed, as he inhales steadily, the smoke in the bong swirling as it fills his lungs.

Once he’s had his fill, he pulls the bong away, holding the smoke in his chest for a few seconds before his red lips part, the smoke seeping out of his mouth in rings and drifting up to the dark sky. A dopey smile plays on his lips as his eyes open again, meeting yours.

The entire act has you clenching as you watch him work, so in his element and looking absolutely breathtaking while doing so. But the look he’s giving you now has an undeniable effect on you and the want you so often feel for him.

Vernon tips the bong lightly in your direction, asking if you want a hit and you accept it. Instead of handing it to you, he holds the mouthpiece out to you, keeping it in his grasp as you lean forward and place your mouth on it. Vernon lights the bowl for you, holding eye contact as you start to let the smoke billow into your mouth, your chest already feeling warm as it fills you. He waits until your eyes close to remove the bowl, and you inhale sharply, your head already feeling lighter.

The bong is pulled away and you tip your head back, the smoke swirling inside of you before your lungs begin to burn and you open your mouth, releasing the smoke. You watch it float up and dissipate and don’t notice Vernon’s gaze still glued to you.

When you meet his eyes, neither of you moves, almost waiting to see what the other will say or do.

Joshua is the one to interrupt the moment, yelling at the two of you for not sharing. Vernon leans over you to pass the bong to Joshua’s waiting hands and he’s the closest to you he has been all evening. The smell of his sweet shampoo hits you first before the woodsy scent of his cologne follows, topped off with the faint smell of weed. It takes everything in you not to kiss him, but you hold it together until he sits back in his chair. He slouches into the uncomfortable fold-out chair, his legs spread wide in his worn jeans, practically begging you to crawl into his lap. Again, you don’t, but dear god how you want to.

Time ticks by as your small group stays outside, passing the bong around the circle every few minutes. You’ve quickly lost the conversation being held by the whole group since you and Vernon spend most of your time talking amongst yourselves. You don’t discuss anything in particular, just movies you’ve seen lately, new restaurants you’ve tried, and some of your favorite new musical releases. Conversation with Vernon always flows so naturally and easily. The two of you rarely broach awkward topics which is a miracle in itself.

At one point, the conversation shifts to you and your lack of experience in the party department.

“So, you’ve never been to any party ever? Like not even a birthday party?”

“Do birthday parties at laser tag places count when I was like ten?” Both of you giggle at that, feeling so much more at ease than you did earlier.

“I don’t think so. I mean like, in high school, you never even went to like a small house party?”

You shake your head as you sip on the soda you had dragged yourself back into the house to get earlier. “Nah. I wasn’t really popular in high school and my friends and I were all too nerdy to throw parties. We had anime-watch nights, but that’s about it.” Waving your hands dismissively you chuckle, but Vernon just shakes his head.

“I can’t believe that.”

“What, that I’m a massive nerd? I wouldn’t think that’d be a surprise since Joshua and I literally got into an argument about Full Metal Alchemist last weekend at Seungcheol’s.” A snort leaves Vernon when he laughs and you can’t help but notice how endearing it is.

“No, we already know you and Shua are weebs!” He keeps laughing even when you lightly push him at his teasing. “What I mean is, I can’t believe that you weren’t popular. I mean, look at you!” He gestures wildly to you, his eyes sweeping over you from head to toe.

“Oh, come on.”

“No, for real! You’re so damn funny and so fun to be around. You’re super sweet and kind and you’re always taking care of us. Plus you’re the hottest person I’ve ever met so like, how the fuck weren’t people all over you? You’re basically fucking perfect!” His words make you feel fuzzy all over, and you know it’s not just the weed.

“Thank you, Vernon,” you whisper, averting your attention to your drink. Hearing Vernon call you hot and “fucking perfect” makes you squeeze your thighs together. Something about him complimenting you so blatantly has you weak in the knees. With your earlier stress gone and feeling a little more carefree, you decide it’s now or never. “I think all of that about you too,” you mumble under your breath.

At first, you’re not sure if he hears you so you dart your eyes over to him. Vernon is staring at you, blinking slowly and you can almost see the gears turning in his head.

“Oh wow,” he finally breathes out. “Really?”

Oh. He did hear you.

“Yeah.” You admit. It’s already out there so you may as well just stand by it.

Vernon’s brain looks as though it’s working overtime as he stares at you blankly. Your stomach does the most violent of flips as you wait for what comes next, unsure of what you should say.

Thankfully, Joshua barges into the conversation, disrupting the tension that hung between you and Vernon.

“Hey, Y/n, I’m tired. I’m gonna find Jeonghan and head home. You wanna share an Uber? Jeonghan’ll probably crash at my place and you can too. Or we’ll put your address in as a stop.”

“Uh…” Do you want to leave now? You just kind-of, sort-of, maybe confessed your feelings to Vernon. But, he also kind-of, sort-of maybe did the same.

If you leave now, will he pretend none of this happened the next time you see him again? Will he blame the weed for his words that he possibly didn’t mean? Does he want you to stay and decide what to do next together?

“Y/n mentioned staying behind for a while longer. Right?” Vernon decides for you, tilting his head and looking back at you, unmoving as he waits for you to verify.

“Oh, yeah I’m gonna stay a little longer.”

Joshua narrows his eyes at you, scanning your face for something that may contradict your words. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m good here with Vernon.” Joshua seems to inspect you both, the seconds dragging on before he finally decides that he accepts what you’re saying.

“Okay, but I better get a text from you later when you’re going home and when you get there. Got it?”

“Promise!”

Joshua throws another look at Vernon. “Everybody better stay safe.” There’s something else behind Joshua’s demand and you’re not sure how exactly to take it.

You and Vernon watch him go before the earlier silence you shared is back. It hangs in the air for what feels to you like an eternity but is more likely only a few seconds.

“You wanna, uh, go upstairs?”

“Yes!” Vernon stumbles over his words when he asks you, but you don’t when you answer him. He’s barely able to get the last word out before you’re accepting his offer. You don’t care where he wants to take you because you’ll go wherever with him.

Vernon slowly stands, reaching for your hand which you give him without a second thought. He leads you back inside the house, upstairs, and to one of the bathrooms in the hall.

“Um, my room’s not clean. I didn’t really expect anyone would be in my room besides me so…” Vernon confesses rather sheepishly when the door is shut behind you. “But, Seungkwan made us clean all the common areas so I promise this room is clean.” A nervous chuckle leaves him, averting his eyes from you.

“That’s okay,” you admit. And it is. Your romantic feelings for Vernon aside (and yes it is a lot of feelings), you want him so badly. You yearn to kiss him, touch him, and let him fuck you, no matter where it happens. Knowing that maybe your feelings aren’t unrequited only makes you want him even more. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Vernon smiles at you, his mouth taking the shape of a heart that has your actual heart beating wildly. He approaches you almost cautiously, pressing you against the bathroom door.

“Are you sure you want this?” His question is a whisper as he’s practically nose to nose with you.

“Of course.”

“We can stop whenever you want to. If you get uncomfortable or change your mind about me or anything like that just say the word.”

“Vernon, I want to be here, I promise. Now kiss me, please.”

And kiss you he does. Vernon dips his head to close the gap between you. His lips are a little chapped as they move against yours, but you don’t mind at all. Your hands ball themselves in the front of his hoodie while he cups your face and kisses you hard. His tongue prods at your lips and you open immediately, moaning as the muscle slips inside your mouth. His tongue wraps around yours, suckling at it and pulling another desperate sound from you. The urgency behind his movements is evident, as his hips meet yours, his body flush against you.

It’s shallow at first and barely noticeable but when you do feel it - Vernon grinding against you - you instantly react, meeting his small thrusts.

When his clothed erection, already hard and straining through his jeans, presses against your pelvis, he makes a deep, pleased hum in his throat. Even through his clothes, you can feel just how big Vernon is. More wetness pools between your legs, already making your underwear feel uncomfortable and sticky.

Vernon continues to hump against you, his kisses becoming more frantic and his hands have long since started wandering on you. His big hands cradle your hips, sliding down the tops of your thighs, then around you to grab a handful of your ass. He yanks you into him, his hips continuing to rut against you.

The sheer act of Vernon dry-humping you like a man truly crazy with lust only makes you want him more. You feel yourself clench around nothing, the friction of Vernon’s hard-on nudging so close to where you need him the most. He has to pull away from your mouth finally, gasping for air, but his hips don’t falter.

“Vernon…please, I need more.”

“M-more?”

“More. Need more.” Your words come out as more of a whine when he squeezes your ass again.

“More of me?”

“Please!”

“Fuck, yeah. Okay.”

He looks genuinely forlorn at the thought of stopping his movements, but he does, lightly panting from his exertion.

Your hands leave the crumpled fabric of his hoodie and snake down to his waist, slipping your hands under the hem. Vernon lets you undress him and then he does the same to you, pulling off piece by piece, tossing each article away without so much as a second thought and drinking in the sight of one another as you go.

Vernon is back on you once you’re both naked, shoving your bodies together as he kisses you again. He cups your breasts, thumbs rubbing circles over your pert nipples. You moan into Vernon’s mouth, letting him work your sensitive buds, the sensation making you rub your thighs together. When your knee brushes Vernon’s hard cock, he nearly chokes. His hands knead at your plush skin as his lips trace their way from your lips to your neck.

Vernon’s teeth nip at your skin and your hands float up to grab at his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands, keeping him at your most sensitive spot. Your knees nearly buckle when he starts to suck harshly and his hands continue their work on your tits.

Before you know what’s next, one of Vernon’s hands is inching down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. With a step out to the side, you spread your thighs to give him access. A single, long digit swipes at your already sopping folds.

He eases his finger into your hole, your warmth greedily sucking him. Vernon begins pumping his finger in and out of you as he continues marking your neck, mumbling about how warm you are and how wet you feel. Your mind starts to turn to mush, your hands scrambling to grasp onto any part of Vernon you can. It happens to be his biceps - those of which are surprisingly firm. You’ve never seen him go to the gym or talk about working out, but clearly he’s doing something. The muscles ripple as he pistons his finger in and out, soon adding a second which slides in with no resistance.

His hot, rock-hard length brushes against your thigh and you reach down with the hand not clutching his arm for dear life, and wrap your fingers around his cock.

Vernon jumps, hissing through his teeth as you slowly jerk him off. Your thumb rubs over his tip, the precum oozing out and helping your hand glide over him.

His lips find yours again, the kiss bruising and messy as he finger fucks you faster and the squelching sounds you make around him echo off of the tile. His fingers scissor in you, working you open for him and when he grazes that soft, spongy spot inside of you, your legs nearly give out.

He manages to keep you upright with his other arm locked around your waist. “You okay?” His voice is gruff, much deeper than it was earlier and you can feel more wetness seep out and around his fingers.

“I’m s-so close, Vern, fuck.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum all over my fingers?”

The sentence is so simple but it has you clenching around his digits so hard that you hold your breath.

“Mmhmm!” you can’t manage words, only sounds, but he doesn’t ask again, instead quickening his pace. Doing your best to match his speed, you twist your wrist, letting Vernon cant his hips forward and fuck into your hand. You whimper into each other’s mouths, the only focus is each other. The only thing either of you see and think about is the other.

Vernon eventually breaks the kiss and bends down to draw one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking at the bud before sucking on it hard enough to hurt in the best way. The twinge of pain shoots straight to your belly, the tension finally snapping.

When you cum, you throw your head back, hitting the bathroom door with a loud ‘thunk!’ and your eyes squeeze shut so tightly that stars swim in the darkness of your closed lids “Fuck!” You choke out, your knees finally giving up on keeping you upright as you let go of Vernon’s cock to grab a hold of his other arm.

Your body sags against his bare chest. He has to prop you back against the door while he helps you ride out your orgasm. The image of you like this, naked and sweaty and crying out for him on his fingers will live in his mind rent-free until the day he dies.

When he finally slips out of you, he can’t help but stare in awe at your juices that drip down his fingers. His first impulse is to shove them into his mouth which he does eagerly, sucking and savoring the flavor of you.

Vernon’s eyes roll back and you watch the entire thing, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Can I eat you out? If that’s okay with you of course.” Vernon’s eyes are wide as he meets yours, half-afraid that you’ll say no. He’ll respect you of course, but he’ll also daydream forever about the way just the small sampling of you tasted on his tongue.

Luckily, for both of you, you want nothing more than to feel Vernon’s kiss-swollen lips on your cunt.

“Please!” You shamelessly beg, droopy eyes widening at his request.

He leads you to the bathroom counter and helps you clumsily clamber up onto it. Both of you are wobbly and clumsy from the weed, but you make it without injury. Vernon’s on his knees instantly, wide hands prying your legs open, pussy on full display.

“Holy shit, you’re so wet!”

“Vernon!” You cover your face in embarrassment, feeling self-conscious.

“Like, your pussy is fucking shimmering in the light, baby.” His face is right in front of your heat, the proximity making your hole flutter right in front of his eyes. “Fucking hell I just watched your pussy squeeze. I’m going to pass out.”

“Vernon, fucking touch me already, please! I need you so bad!” His heavy eyes meet yours, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

Much like earlier, he didn’t need you to tell him again as his eyes focus on you and he dips his head between your legs.

Vernon’s tongue immediately finds your clit, the muscle flicking forcefully, sending a jolt through you. Shaky fingers rake through Vernon’s hair and grip the brunette locks for support as he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking on it in the way you need.

“Fuck! Vernon, yes!” Your hips start to buck up into his face when he changes direction and dips his tongue into your pussy, groaning low in his throat as he does.

“Mmph! So good.” Vernon drawls, his words muffled as he tongue fucks you, slurping your wetness as he does.

His tongue darts in and out of you, his nose brushing your clit every time you lift your hips. Vernon makes out with your cunt, the lewd sounds alone are enough to have you hurdling to your end and Vernon’s grunt reverberating through your body is what ultimately has you cumming.

“Vernon!” His name erupts from your mouth in a shriek, your thighs clamping around his head. Your whole body feels as if it’s on fire, as you arch almost painfully into him. You stay that way for what feels like minutes, hips still pushed towards him as you gasp and Vernon continues to lazily lick at you.

The world could crumble around you at this very moment and you don’t think you’d care.

That was undisputedly the best head you’ve ever gotten.

Vernon chuckles from between your thighs, finally coming up for air.

“Best head ever huh?” His nose all the way to his chin shines with your juices as he gives you a lopsided grin.

You hadn’t even realized you said your last thoughts out loud. Only a small part of you feels embarrassed. The rest of you only focuses on Vernon as he stands up, his cock red and angry as it rests against his stomach.

“Can - can we do it on the floor? My legs feel like cooked pasta right now and I can’t stay upright.” His expression is sullen as he says this, but you can only giggle at how cute he looks, pouting at you, cradling his very thick, very distracting dick.

“You can fuck me wherever you want as long as you do it.”

Vernon’s eyes widen, blinking a few times as if your words fluster him, but he quickly snaps out of it, helping you off the counter. He grabs a bath towel hanging on the rack nearby and spreads it out on the floor before helping lay you on it. He promises that it’s clean, but you shrug his worries away. Towel or not, at this very moment all you want is Vernon to fuck you even more stupid than the weed has made you, and you don’t care what he does it on.

With fumbling hands, Vernon reaches for his pants and digs his wallet out in search of a condom. When he finds it, he opens and rolls the rubber on, hands trembling as he goes.

He scurries back over to you, easily taking his place between your legs. He momentarily forgets what he’s doing when he catches sight of your still-sopping folds and you have to call his name to get his attention. His eyes dart up to look at you, fixating on your heaving chest and bottom lip pulled tight between your teeth, hair sprawled out around your head, eyes red and shiny, staring right back at him.

You look straight out of all of the late-night fantasies he’s had about you and you don’t even know it.

Vernon’s cock feels as big as it looks when he finally eases inside of you, your legs quivering along the way. His hands hook under your knees, keeping you open until he buries himself balls-deep into your pussy.

The two of you share a moan, your voices harmonizing in pleasure at finally filling you and being full by him. He takes a moment before he thrusts forward, gauging your reaction. A scrunch of your brow and a nod to him lets him know to move and he anchors himself by gripping your thighs as he starts to snap his hips.

A high-pitched yelp leaves you, echoing in the room along with the wet sounds of your arousal, the sound only intensifying as Vernon starts to fuck you with more urgency.

“Holy shit, Y/n. You feel fucking incredible.” He pants out as he drives his hips into yours, sweat already beading at his hairline.

Your shaky hands reach up to wrap around his shoulders and you pull him closer. “S-so do you…” Vernon stumbles, but catches himself, planting his hands on the sides of your head. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you do your best to lift your hips with each thrust, meeting Vernon’s momentum as he fucks into you.

Through the condom, you can still feel the most prominent veins on his cock, the friction gliding against your walls, your eyes crossing at the pleasure. The bathroom floor isn’t where you imagined your first time with him being, although you never thought that your first time with him would even happen. Your crush on him was one you kept close to you and in your mind, it wouldn’t be reciprocated.

That thought was obviously cast aside if the way his soft brown eyes, rimmed with scarlet, are looking down at you, even as his lips press together in concentration with each drive of his body jolting yours and almost pushing you across the floor.

Even with THC coursing through his system and making every other movement so slow, Vernon is quick and determined as he rocks into you, your soft, gummy walls squeezing him harder the faster he fucks into you at a bruising pace.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Vernon rasps out between grunts.

“You’re f-fucking the last of my brain cells out of m-me and you wanna be romantic?” You manage a laugh, even if it gets cut off with a sob as soon as Vernon’s cockhead bumps into your g-spot.

“I can’t help it. You make me wanna be romantic.” His words are accentuated with a breathy groan - the sentence a stark contrast to the way he pummels your cunt.

Tears well in your eyes, and you blame the weed for bringing emotions out of you. Raising your head as best as you can, you meet his lips in what is meant to be a sweet kiss, even if it’s more teeth than anything, but neither of you minds.

You lay back and settle when you can’t keep yourself up anymore and Vernon stays close to your face as he pivots his hips, shoving his hand between your bodies. It takes him a second, but he eventually finds your clit, eliciting a shriek from you.

The pace that Vernon finds with both his hips and his fingers has your orgasm right on the cusp, your body already sensitive from earlier.

“V-Vernon!”

“Say my real name,” he wheezes desperately.

“Hansol! Fuck, so good. ‘M gonna cum! So close…” His real name rolls off of your tongue just as easily as his nickname does, if not easier.

His fingers pinch at your clit between pressing against it as his other hand supports most of his weight, his sweaty forehead resting against yours.

“Cum for me again, baby. Wanna see you cum just for me.” His voice is like honey, dripping all over you, and setting your heart and body ablaze.

You reach your high then, a needy cry of his name exploding from you, your body going stiff. Wave after wave rushes through you like an inferno, your blood rushing to your head. Through the ringing in your ears, you hear Hansol actually growl from above you, your name, and a string of curses sounding like a chant coming from him.

His mouth hangs open again as his hips stutter, riding out his orgasm until he lets out a loud huff. Instinctively, you reach your hand up, running it through Hansol’s damp strands. His eyes slip close, pushing his head into your hand more, relishing in the way your nails graze his scalp.

The air is calm and full of so much adoration even as you both harshly huff and puff, catching your breath. You relish this moment with Hansol, wanting nothing more than to stay like this with him.

The sound of his stomach grumbling cuts through the moment. “Sorry,” he snorts, causing both of you to break into a fit of laughter.

“Wanna go back downstairs and get some pizza?” You ask him as he finally moves off of you and you peel yourself up from the floor. Vernon has to help you stand, but to be fair, both of you are unsteady as you stand again.

“Hell yeah. Would you wanna bring it back up to my room? I can clean up really quickly and you can stay over. I have a bowl if you wanna smoke more. But only if you want to! You can say no and I can stay with you until a rideshare gets here.” The nervousness in his question is obvious as he pulls his clothes back on, having to concentrate on getting both legs in his jeans without falling over.

“Of course, I’ll stay over. And don’t worry about the mess. As long as there’s room in the bed for us, the food, and to smoke it doesn’t matter to me, Hansol.” You smile to yourself once you’re dressed, loving the way his real name sounds to your ears. You want to only call him Hansol from here on out.

His head snaps up and he fixes you with a wide-eyed look once his hoodie is back on. “Really?”

You nod at him, laughing at his expression - the same incredulous look he’s given you all night. Closing the small distance between the two of you, you place a gentle kiss on his lips, enjoying the way he instantly melts into you.

Yeah, your first real party was completely different than you had imagined, but it was even better than you had hoped.

Seventeen masterlist | All Masterlists

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epigstolary · 1 year ago

Text

The Middle of Nowhere, Part Two

I once said that my feeder didn’t have to do anything to keep me on his farm. That I was building my own prison there, bite by bite. And that’s still true — but only partly true. The farm may be a long way away from anything — town, other people, even the road that’s our only real connection to society — and it may as well be a desert island for someone too big to drive a car or walk further than the yard, but it isn’t my prison. Because my prison isn’t a place.

Things started to change when it got difficult even to go outside to our porch. I don’t mean they changed with my feeder; he was still as caring and doting as ever. He started bringing me my snacks once I got big enough that just shuffling out the front door took all my energy and attention. I had to watch where I placed every step of my bloated legs, laden with fat that looked like bags of cottage cheese, and hold on to the walls and the railing along the porch to keep my belly and chest fat from sloshing sideways and pulling me over. Even those few steps left me breathless and my heart pounding by the time I got settled on my bench; but it was worth it to have a plate of his biscuits and gravy or chicken and dumplings, under that big sky beyond our little farm, gilded with another sunset. And even when my bench finally gave way after one too many helpings of both, he dusted off his woodworking kit and put it back together, reinforced and better than new.

But by then, we both knew it was only a temporary fix. It wouldn’t be long before there’d be no way I could maneuver myself out there every day, and he could tell how being cooped up inside would drive me crazy after a while. If I was going to do anything other than sit mostly alone on the couch all day, we were going to have to find another way.

His first innovation was to invite people over for dinner — farmhands, friends, folks he knew from town that he could get to come to me even if I couldn’t go to them. And they were good company, in a lot of ways; they’d bring a taste of the outside world with them. They might talk about how the crops were doing, recount some recent anecdote from working out in the fields or going into town, opine on some petty local politics or gossip. And it was nice to hear about something other than what was going on within the confines of our little farm — an outside world that it was increasingly impossible for me to get to. But really, it was hard for the focus not to turn around to me. Nobody was ever rude the first time they met me; but it was rare not to see either a reaction of stifled surprise, or else a glassy look of unseeing, a conscious attempt not to notice the half-ton of fat flowing and bulging out of my ill-fitting clothes.

It didn’t help that, with me never leaving the farm, there weren’t many topics of conversation other than myself and food that our guests could engage with me about. When the conversation didn’t turn to recent meals or my favorite foods, which usually elicited at least warm agreement about the country staples forming much of my diet, it turned to how I spent most of my day. We’d do our usual face-saving song and dance about what I did to take care of the house while my partner was out working in the field — all of it lies, and increasingly transparent lies as my limited ability to even move became more obvious at higher weights — and how I was getting ready to start losing some weight. I’d talk about how I really wanted to get healthier, get out and about more often; and they’d smile and nod, giving tepid approval and encouragement.

The thing is, I really did mean it. I really did want to get down to a size where I could at least walk around outside again, maybe even drive a car into town and go to the little greasy spoon like I used to. It was becoming discouraging to have every step, every reach, every movement blocked or restrained by the fat smothering every inch of my body. But our guests knew full well I didn’t have a prayer of keeping to a diet or an exercise routine. It was even more obvious to those who’d visited before, and who saw me even more bloated, even more out of shape than the last time they were there.

The actual meals certainly made them think that, if they hadn’t before. My partner would serve a spread fit for a dozen people — something like a barbecue buffet, a whole turkey with all the fixings, a tray of lasagna — and I’d end up eating everything that was left after the others had their fill. Long after their places had been cleared away, I’d still be gobbling up the heaping plates my partner would keep bringing me until every scrap of food was gone. Since I couldn’t last very long at the dining table anymore, usually we’d sit around the living room, and they would basically watch me gorge myself — tits and chins wobbling as I’d chew, plate sitting on my enormous belly so my blubbery arms could rest on the sweep of my side rolls while I cut and speared each bite. It was obvious to everyone, I guess even to me, that I was never going to drop a pound if I couldn’t resist completely abandoning myself to food like that. By the end of the meal, I’d be stuffed full, taking up the entire couch and looking enormous, almost too drowsy from overeating to notice the expressions passing between our guests, their looks of amusement or disgust or astonishment at what was apparently a typical dinner for me. Sometimes they’d even whisper about it, thinking I was asleep. I wasn’t.

From the front window of the house, I could watch them drive away, taillights receding toward that distant road where proper civilization began again. Probably recapping the dinner and my obscene size and appetite with horrified amazement. They’d been merely passing through, tourists in my isolated bubble, visiting their friend’s or boss’s blob of a partner out of courtesy but with no real desire to bring me into the fold. They could make things more tolerable, but they’d never be any real help in connecting with the world again.

Then one day, my partner’s beat-up old pickup disappeared, and he pulled into the yard in a gleaming new one, looking unusually excited for him and expectantly at me. I was puzzled — by that point, I was already too big to heave myself up into the cab of any pickup. But then I saw the truck bed — more specifically, the crane and winch rising from the front corner. My stomach did a somersault at the sight of him rigging up a harness meant for lifting cows and pigs into the bed; it was a way to let me get off the farm, sure, but at a pretty steep price in dignity. It was as good as an admission that I’d eaten myself far too fat to rejoin the world like a normal person, probably for good.

But the temptation to be somewhere else, anywhere else, was too much. A day or two later, my partner was helping me waddle out the front door and down the steps toward the driveway. Months indoors had obscured just how much my body had changed in even that short amount of time. My legs had both bloated considerably and weakened since my last walk through the yard, making every step like having to lift heavy bags of molasses just to advance a few inches at a time. My belly hung lower and broader than I remembered, physically holding back my steps and making it harder to twist my upper body to steady my walk. My side rolls and bicep blubber fought one another for space, pushing my arms up and sending fat bunching around my neck and shoulders. I was an out-of-breath mess by the time I maneuvered myself around and collapsed into the harness.

The sensation of my weight being lifted slowly off the ground, suspended and moved by an object completely out of my control, sent a surreal thrill through me. My hundreds of pounds, cradled in the harness, wobbled and jiggled with its slow movements, and for the most part I had no choice but to be carried along with my body’s jostling inertia. Even more than usual, I was buried under my immense belly and tits, my bloated legs were lifted level with the rest of my body, and my flab-laden arms — if they’d even been strong enough to do anything — had nowhere to grasp to help stabilize my sloshing bulk. The crane and winch cracked and creaked as it labored to move my weight, lifted me over the sides and into position facing the tailgate, and lowered me onto some foam padding my partner had arranged into a kind of makeshift couch against the rear window. I didn’t fill the truck bed — but there wasn’t room to sit next to me, either.

I’ve never felt a mixture of emotions like I did on that first drive back into town. On the one hand, it felt so amazingly free — finding myself on that once impossibly-distant road, our farm receding into the distance as fields and hills sped by. Fresh air, and the wind in my hair. But then, as buildings grew closer together and we started rolling into downtown, my blood ran cold — I’m a half-ton blob taking up most of the back of a pickup truck, too fat to walk or move, coming to town like a circus attraction, I thought. People were going to react.

I’m sure a lot of it was in my mind. I’m sure I was self-conscious, reading intent into every glance and word and gesture, most of the time when it wasn’t there. But it felt like every last person in the town had turned out to stare at my huge form being paraded down main street. Me looking out over the expanse of lard occupying the truck bed and smothering my body. Blubber sloshing uncontrollably every time we turned a corner. Kids pointing at the enormous fatty passing by, their shouts being stifled by nervous and disgusted parents. Skinny people casting sideways glances at the pickup, stopped at a stoplight, as they muttered to each other amid broad grins.

And that was when I realized. It didn’t matter where I was — on the farm, in town, on stage with a million people watching. I had let myself get fattened past the point where I could exist in this world and connect with it ever again. Even when I was right in the middle of it, I was as far removed from these people as if I’d still been back on the farm. I’m never going to be walking around with them, shopping with them, just existing in the spaces they exist in. I literally don’t fit in, even if I could haul around all the blubber I’ve accumulated under my own power. And I’m just as alien to them — someone five times their weight, who can’t control their appetite any better than to get this big, someone they can deride or pity or judge with impunity.

On the drive back to the farm, under a starry indigo sky and with a backseat full of fast food from the town’s only chain, I had to wonder about my feeder. Whether he really was trying to get me out of the house. Or did he know? Had he already figured out that I was too big for it to matter where I was — that the thick rolls dominating my body and the sacks of fat hanging off my limbs would keep me his, even if I’d tried to get someone to help me leave? That this drive would do nothing more than to show me a world, a life, that my fat — his fat — would never let me go back to?

The thought lodged in the back of my mind as he gently helped hoist me, every inch wobbling and quivering, out of the truck bed. He led my bulk, step by exhausted step, back inside and to my usual divot on the couch. And as he got me comfortable, spreading the buffet of greasy, fatty food out before me, and as I bit into the first of ten thick double cheeseburgers, his too-kind smile and his gaze that lingered on my bulging gut for an instant too long told me everything I needed to know.

The farm isn’t my prison. My body is.

#extreme weight gain #weight gain fiction #ssbhm #feeder fiction #gainerfiction #gaining #gainer fiction #wg story #wg fiction #gainer stories

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