#and completely indulge myself and give myself a fantasy in a perfect world | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fleetingcalypso · 8 months ago

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HIIII, if you don't mind me asking!

I have a prompt in mind thanks to a post I saw the other day on Instagram, and I think it's PERFECT for an Henry Winters fic, so here it is!

It is said that the ancient Greeks used the throwing of an apple to propose, and if you accepted the marriage proposal you caught the apple mid air.

Imagine that, after years of friendship and relationship, Henry proposes to y/n by throwing her?them? an apple and they caught it 👀👀👀

I'D LOVE TO HEAR YOUR OPINION

≋ Thank you for being my very first companion in this new beginning. I'll happily indulge you. I can only hope my vision is satisfactory.

≋ Henry Winter x GN!Reader ≋

≋ Word count: around 2,4k words.

≋ TW: Slight misogyny, probable manipulation and toxic relationship, Edmund "Bunny" Corcoran.

Henry Winter is a disease. I took notice the first time I laid my eyes on him. He carries himself as if he is Atlas, mantaining the entire world on his shoulders and as if the it weighs nothing at all. His friend group is not any better, quite frankly: twins, incestuous ones clinging to each other like abandoned pups, a queer young man, with hair as red as the sunset and a mask to put Melpomene and Thalia to shame, an insufferable brat and a clean slate of a man, completely and utterly empty inside, stuck in his fantasy. For some insane reason, I found myself part of this whorehouse as well.

Henry Winter rises above all of them, I fully believe that. The world bends to his will, it always has and it always will. He is the tempestuous sea that grinds down the cliff, he is the wind that bends trees with only a light breeze, Henry Winter in his magnificence is the Sun which the World revolves around.

He stands on the edge of the lake as I see him, towering over the calm surface, trusted book resting in the crook of his elbow and a red apple in his hand. If I squint and let the sun go into my eyes for a moment, I can wholly see him as Zeus, King of the Gods, unshackled by any guilt or any error he might have upon himself, he grips the fruit of sin in his palm, his thumb stroking the skin of it as if it was a lover’s cheek. “Henry,” I call out to the wind and I feel the Heaven I had created in my mind collapse when my voice reaches him. His gaze breaks from the horizon, it sets itself upon my figure, it feels like I’m no longer standing near Francis’ lake house, instead I’m perambulating through the Elysian Fields, at the edge of the world. This man is a disease, he is a drug, and I am but a servant of his world slowly stealing crumbs of what he offers me, becoming an addict before I can realize it.

“You should have stayed back with the others. I’ll be but a minute.” He speaks and it’s a subtle order the one he gives me, but I’ve never been one to follow instructions, even if given by Gods of his caliber. I am unable to move from my spot. It is an impossible task, almost herculean, how could it be anything else when this is one of the very rare moments we can catch, with just us present.

At my insolent inobedience, his lips tilt up into a grin. It is a swift motion as he tosses the apple to me, an even swifter motion as I grab it. And it ends there: Paris has chosen the one to whom the Golden Apple belongs to. He wordlessly approaches me, spins me around, rests his warm hand on the small of my back and guides me back to the house.

A week later, as I’m nursing him back to health after he's found himself victim to a vicious migraine, his kitchen acts as my sanctuary and it isn’t until after ten minutes of pure silence that his house phone rings, on the other side of it none other than Bunny. “How’s Henry?” He asks, and I doubt he is looking for an honest answer, “He’s resting,” I reply, hoping he might find some other poor sinner to bother. To my displeasure, he keeps talking, tasking me with the lowly chore of having to listen to him.

“That’s too bad! I’ve been meaning to talk to him about something of the utmost importance,” He professes, his smirk perfectly audible in the tone of his voice.

“I’m sure I can pass along the message, what is it, Bunny?” “Oh, I was just wondering if he could lend me a couple hundred dollars before he begins going mental trying to organize your wedding.” Now, this was one of the most dumbfounding sentences Bunny had ever spoken into existence. Even if it was for a fleeting moment, my mind could not comprehend him: ‘your wedding’ he had said, like he expected me to agree as second nature. “My wedding, Bunny?” I sought further information, with not little confusion in my voice, his newly founded dubiety mimicking my feelings.

“Yes? Your wedding. You know, the one Henry proposed to you not so long ago? Have you really forgotten?” His ‘know-it-all’ tone doesn’t do much to help me find what grain of peace of mind I have lost. “No, Bunny. Henry did not propose to me, you must be mistaken. We are not engaged, whatever you are drinking is doing you more harm than good.”

“Ah, but I’m as sober as a stone carving, dearest friend,” and there it is again, the mockery that so perfectly encapsulates what Edmund ‘Bunny’ Corcoran is. If Henry is a disease, then Bunny is the plague itself. “And I am not mistaken, I don’t know what the point of acting secretively is now that we all know about your engagement. You’re acting ridiculous.”

For once in my life, I find Bunny’s words interesting, and for as much as I would love for it to be reality, I know an engagement with Henry never occurred. Lest I was too inebriated to properly recall it.

“I for one,” he keeps talking, much to my dismay when I see Henry staggering into the room, “Would be heartbroken if my Marion were to forget a romantic proposal such as the one you experienced. Ah! I can feel it shattering already, my poor heart.”

“Bunny, I have to go.”

“Wait! What about the mon-” I’m quick to interrupt him by hanging up. With time it’s become almost an artstyle: ignoring Bunny’s requests this way is something not even Henry himself is able to do.

My fingers are still tightly wrapped around the handset, the only noise I hear is Henry’s rugged breathing as he struggles to keep himself upright. Such a prideful man, bested by a migraine. Were I not caught up in an internal turmoil I would have precipitously scrambled by his side, wrapped my arm around his body and guided him to his armchair, but now? Now I watch him, and he watches me. His eyes are like a hawk’s, they pierce right through me.

He hasn’t heard what Bunny said, I know it, I’m certain of it. Then, why is it that I feel like in front of me is not a man, but judge, jury and executioner. He’s waiting for me to do anything, my Achilles’ heel is waiting, standing right in front of me and it seems unsure of what to do: to mercilessly bore himself through me as a spear does to an enemy soldier or to let me make the first step into the battlefield unharmed.

“Bunny called.” My voice is unrecognizable to me, his hum is enough for me to keep talking, “He is often unruly, foolish and to be completely honest unbearable. One can always expect to be mocked when in his presence,” Why I find myself detailing our friend’s manners is unclear, perhaps I am searching for a grain of context where I can find only unsureness, “But he said something peculiar today, to my surprise. Something I find myself clinging on. It was but a short-lived conversation, yet, it flooded my mind with ‘what-ifs’.”

“Even Bunny has his moments.” His attempt at a joke is but a mere flicker of light humor, a fickle attempt to avoid this situation we are both stuck in. Knowing him, Henry right now would love nothing more than a glass of whiskey and for me to start working on his dinner. So I do. A sigh abandons my lips as I move to the kitchen, and before I know it I’ve abandoned the subject at hand, focusing instead on the sound of the bottom of his glass makes as it makes contact with the wooden table.

Henry, my gentle savior, pops me out of my bubble with just a few words. “I have yet to properly thank you for taking care of me this way.” I feel he wants to say more so I don’t interrupt and as expected my transcendental divinity blesses me with his voice once again, “My kitchen feels right with you in it, there’s a dent in the place you always occupy on the couch, for some reason I can’t bring myself to fluff it out.” A beat passes, “My bed feels warmer with you in it.”

Nights with him weren’t all that rare, but they also weren’t a regular occurrence. I know I’m not the only one to have seen Henry in his most intimate moments, the sheer passion we have shared wasn’t one that he kept locked away just for me. He is a giver, at heart. His heart, although cold and behind bars, has a need to give, all the time. I fear he thinks that if he does not give, then he has nothing himself.

“Are you saying I should move in with you?” I ask, the spoon I’m using to stir his dinner almost abandons my hands to fall into the pot. He is easier to read than he thinks, or maybe I am a fool with a crooked halo.

“I feel it is only proper.” His presence behind me is noticeable only when his arms wrap around me, his chest presses against my back and I delude myself this is a display of affection for an invisible audience, I mislead myself into imagining we are in a house full of people gazing at us with a soft smile on their faces, being participants of what could be our affection for each other. I know better. From the way his arms twitch, my beloved Henry is only using me as a crutch to make sure I am not burning his food.

“Is it?” The ability to form sentences seems to have fled my mind, “And why is that? Simply because I nurse you back to health?”

“I won’t lie and say that’s not part of why I want you here. I would have thought you had understood by now.”

Maybe I don’t know Henry as well as I do, because his words strike me with each syllable. “What Bunny said, he said something about a wedding. My wedding, your wedding, our wedding.”

And just like that the bandaid comes off. And a response never comes. His hair tickles my neck and the cold rim of his glasses sends goosebumps down my neck when he nuzzles his face in my shoulder. Now I’m sure I don’t know him at all.

“Our wedding.” He finally breaks the silence when he notices the spoon inevitably fell into the pot. I hear his soft whisper directly into my ear.

As my head turns to try and find his gaze, my eye falls onto the basket of apples set on the counter. Red ones, like the ones near the lake house. Red, the color of love, of passion and of blood. It ties together the two most gruesome things in human history, a pair that cannot be undone not even by divine intervention: Love and Murder.

“I thought you’d be overjoyed to be my bride. Was I wrong?” There’s a challenge in his tone, he wants to be challenged, almost wants me to deny him, but Henry knows. He knows I cannot deny him, ever. I don’t want to deny him.

Now it seems so obvious. Henry must think me a fool for having taken so long, even so, teasing him tastes just like sweet ambrosia and no matter how much I try, part of me cannot be restrained.

“Throwing an apple at a girl to claim her as your bride might have been the fashion back then,” His smirk is pressed into my skin as his lips kiss the spot right under my ear, “But might I have to remind you, Henry, not all of us are as knowledgeable about Ancient Greece's customs as you are. It was such an ephemeral moment it did not seem to have much meaning.”

“I’m offended, I’ll have you know I put quite a lot of thought into it.” His hands rest on my waist as they have done so many times, only now it doesn’t feel as inconspicuous as it used to be. I’m the last one to know, this is a first.

“I doubt aiming a fruit at my face took you much thought.”

“On the contrary, dearest. Were my toss too strong it would have hurt you, and that was not my intention.” His hand is warm, it’s all I can feel when it rests on my cheek, and as he did while holding the apple that day, his thumb strokes my skin. “It was entertaining to see you so oblivious, I have to admit, even if I owe Bunny around two hundred dollars now.”

“What for?”

“He bet everyone that you would not understand what my action meant until someone brought your attention to it.”

“That bastard.”

I have a sneaking feeling a diamond ring will sit on my finger before tomorrow, but for the time being, this is fine. Jewelry, accessories have never meant much, it’s just gold, silver, rubies. The way his lips press against mine to muffle my laugh means much more than any diamond ever could. I’ve spent long trying to not fall in love with Henry, and now I’ll spend even longer knowing what being loved by him feels like.

He is my Paris, kidnapping me from my rotten existence to be with him, and unlike Helen I accept this fate. Unlike Helen, I love my abductor, I love him so much this doesn’t even feel like a transgression. Henry holds my heart in his hands, as he did that apple, and it is his choice to chuck it as far as he can or to gently place it in a basket in his home. For the time being, he is being as generous as to handle me with nothing but love and care. If our story is to be narrated, like a Greek myth, like a victorious hymn, let it be forever like this, while we hold each other in our kitchen, exchanging the first kisses of our real, unmasked love.

#fleetingcalypso #calypsodaydreams #the secret history #the secret history x reader #henry winter x reader #oneshot #gn reader #reader insert #dark academia #fluff #angst

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unabashedyearning · 6 months ago

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I find that I think more about you than anything else, and it’s especially when I’m aroused. Sometimes It's the thought of you that gets me hot and bothered in the first place. The shape, texture, and smell of you always seems to bubble up in my thoughts and make me needy. I indulge and touch myself, but it’s not really a solution. It feels like every time I jerk off I am more attracted to you, more desperate to find you. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to caress you and feel your body react to my over-eager fondling. It only ever turns me on more when you cross my mind, my urge to have you there grows to a fever pitch. Every stroke makes me wish I had you in view, you’re the best porn after all, or better yet that I was using your body to jerk off with. Masturbating to the thought of you so often has made it so hard to resist trying to try and seduce you every time we’re together. I adore you and enjoy any activity we do but there’s such a deep need in me to release all the lust I build up with my fantasies. There’s no technique or toy I have that compares to how good you make me feel. I remember each little detail of your nakedness, every sound you make when you’re excited. It’s truly shocking how my cock drips so much more precum when I’ve had my eyes closed and just imagine you in the same bed, feeling the same burning desire, wanting the same thing from me as I want from you. Nothing compares but when you’re actually there, all the erotica in the world couldn’t be as vivid and alluring as you and my memories of you. It’s a reflex to whisper your name as I finally climax. I can’t help smiling and envision making a mess of you instead of my stomach or a tissue, wishing I could be cuddling you in the glow of completion.

By god, I can’t help thrusting in bed even after I finish, my body knows that it’s meant to be touching yours. There’s a heat in me, driving me mad with lust. My hips are meant to be used to fuck you, everything else is a substitute. I’m supposed to be grinding against you while I rub your legs, pinch your nipples, touching every part of you within reach. I’m supposed to be pressing my crotch into your perfect ass. You are supposed to be putty in my hands, easy to undress, tease, and get off. I won’t be satisfied by anything short of hearing you cum, only then does it feel like I’m truly done. You are too tempting and too precious, I can’t help but yearn. You are meant to be my spoiled, oversexed princess. I will make sure you whimper and spasm in the way only I can. I need to be your everything, your favorite source of pleasure. It’s our purpose to tangle ourselves together and listen to each other’s haggard voices as we devolve into two beastly things who only crave each other. When I have you underneath me, you’re the only thing that exists and the only thing I could ever want, it’s so beautiful and stimulating.

#nsft #original #text #sweet

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imanamjid · 2 years ago

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As my project develops, I’m figuring out the emerging themes of it, like immersion and also escapism which is a huge part of that. I realised that it’s what I’m trying to achieve through my work. Personally I am always trying to find ways to escape, either through games, reading, or drawing, but most of the time it’s just through day dreaming. I enjoy exploring the escapes my mind comes up with, to get away from the heaviness life can bring. So this project is actually quite personal to me because it’s rooted in a technique I rely/use on a lot.

Basic Psychology of Escapism In my research I found there to be a big debate on whether indulging yourself in escapism is healthy or not. There’s a difference between when it’s productive, or when it’s too distracting. Usually, the escapes we choose are tranquil, and can be a complete fantasy, which is often the furthest thing from real life, but when you become addicted to it, it can leave you in denial and make you neglect the important things in life. However, when done in moderation, or ‘healthily’, it can promote feelings like happiness, and motivation, whilst also encouraging creativity. Which I know to be true for myself, most of my ideas come to me whilst I’m daydreaming, and I love bringing my escapes to life.

https://terraskills.com/the-psychology-of-escapism-a-coping-technique-or-a-sinking-ship/

What is the Point of Escapism? “Art would be useless if the world were perfect, as man wouldn’t look for harmony but would simply live in it. Art is born out of an ill-designed world.” - Andrei Tarkovsky At the beginning of my project, when I was still figuring out what my project was going to be, I watched Tarkovsky’s film, Stalker. There was a stillness to his work, and a certain kind of solace, each frame was beautiful, even without getting into the deeper meaning of the film or the script, you could feel the weight of life it was trying to escape. Whilst Stalker did have a lot of meaning behind it (as complex as it is to try uncover), escapism doesn’t need to be about addressing a certain socio-political problem, It can simply exist for the purpose of enjoyment or coping. It’s been used in art for centuries, and has created a conversation on whether it is even a practice of any consequence. It’s an often looked down upon practice, seen by some as simpleminded because it doesn’t need to openly confront the problems of the world, its not ‘serious’. The counter argument is why does it have to be? Isn’t what we’re trying to escape from enough of a point made? What about the people who just need fantasy filled escaped, who don’t want to be challenged in art as well as life? Can’t both realism and escapism have a positive influence? Maybe escapism is good, maybe it’s bad, but it certainly exists and has a huge presence in todays culture, iconic worlds - Marvel, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Dark Souls, Terry Pratchett’s Discworld, Conan, Warhammer, Alice in Wonderland, Camelot, Star Wars, Game of Thrones... The list goes on. We’re at a stage where escapism in the form of digital media surrounds us constantly. Either we just really like it or we really need it, who can really say.

For me, escapism is helpful, especially at a time where, through the internet, we can see too much. By too much, I mean all the shit things in the world, everything traumatic, and tragic. We feel helpless and stuck, I can find out all the ways I’m being systematically forced into being part of a globally destructive design. Its important to know what exists out there, but we couldn’t do that to the extent we can do now even 20 years ago, and it’s really heavy. With escapism, I find a way to cope and see past it all, like how many use religion, it gives hope of better to come, or at least a refuge within the mind. With surrealism, I appreciate how it educates me, but it takes it’s toll and isn’t something I want to base my work within, nor should I feel expected to (which I do) “It’s (surrealism’s) a dangerous tendency to identify individual entirely with their circumstances”. I want my work to be a fun outlet for the average person, who probably works every day, maintains their finances, cares for their friends and family; I want to unite people not through potentially stressful socio-political topics, but through the ways they choose to cope/escape/enjoy themselves, the worlds they’ve made up for themselves, and to find similarities in them from one another.

https://gizmodo.com/escapism-is-the-highest-form-of-art-5374149

https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/jonathanjonesblog/2010/mar/25/escapism-in-art

https://aciiid.com/the-art-of-escapism-in-the-modern-digital-world/

https://www.frieze.com/article/ben-eastham-escapism-2021

“

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thecandywrites · 6 years ago

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Pierce and I Part 6

I did not mean to forget about this story. I really didn’t. But, at long last here is part 6.

Pierce and I

Part 6

You woke up, supremely well rested if not just a tad sore because Pierce had worn you out the night before. You could hear Pierce softly snore above you since you were still nestled in his embrace, your nose planted firmly into his chest, the black hairs on his chest tickling the tip of your nose a little. Although, it was not even a true snore- it was so soft, just one step above heavy breathing. It was actually really cute and adorable and you knew you could definitely see yourself waking up to this every day for the rest of your life. Easy. Jimmy snored like a freight train because he had sleep apnea and had to be on a breathing machine or else you would never get any sleep. But this was nothing compared to that.

You felt emboldened to reach between the two of you and feel if he had morning wood and grinned wickedly when he did and began to stroke it in an effort to wake Pierce up hopefully before Darcy and Bro would get up because you discovered a part of you really wanting Pierce to have you for breakfast before you made him a proper breakfast and your plan was working because you could tell Pierce was waking up, by his breathing changing and his hold on you growing tighter before there was the dreaded knock on the door and both of you huffed in disappointment.

“Cock blockers.” You whispered under your breath which made Pierce snort a laugh as his eyes cracked open and he still kissed you sweetly, you were still beautiful first thing in the morning and this was a sight he was willing to bet he’d never get tired of. That and your mattress was infinitely more comfortable than his and it had the added bonus of having you in it and he hadn’t slept this good in…ever. And having sex with you in a bed was a welcome upgrade from his couch in his office and since it was a Cal King, it was definitely big enough for anything and everything you could ever want to do in bed too, including sleep. He was so ready to move in already, to marry you already, just live the rest of his life with you already. Everything he had and everything he was he was surrendering to you from now on. He had found the one he was meant to live the rest of his life with- you. He was beyond sold at this point. Even if you didn’t have your settlements, he was ready to hand everything over and he was ready to take over paying all your bills now too. He was going to take care of you in any and all ways possible.

“Yeah?” You asked as you sat up in bed and rubbed your eyes before you got your glasses and put them on.

“Mommy, we’re hungry.” Darcy said from the door as she and Bro opened the door, looking like they had just gotten up too.

“Ok, I’ll come and make breakfast, what do you guys want?” You asked as you got up out of bed, grabbed your phone and walked around the bed to grab your robe from behind the door and slip your slippers on and walk out of your bedroom.

“Can we have pancakes?” Darcy asked.

“Sure, just let me go potty first.” You nodded as you got into the bathroom and shut the door and relieved yourself and washed your hands before you brushed your teeth and put your hair up in a messy bun then left to go make breakfast.

“So Bro what do you want for breakfast?” You asked Bro as the three of you walked to the kitchen.

“What do you have?” Bro asked curiously.

“Well I got stuff to make hash browns, potatoes and onions, eggs, omelets, pancakes, toast, toaster strudel, ego waffles, bagels, ham, bacon, sausage, steak, or I have a wide variety of cereal and oatmeal too.” You listed off. “But here’s the deal, I’m going to teach you how to make whatever you ask for, you get to help.” You stipulated.

“Ok,” Bro nodded in agreement. “I’d love all of that honestly.” Bro admitted.

“Ok, so let me show you my secret to hash browns...” You began as you pulled out everything from your freezer and fridge for a huge breakfast as Pierce came into the kitchen having gone to the bathroom himself and had gotten a little cleaned up for your sake too, putting on a sleep shirt and pajama pants while his his hair was still messy but he was still devastatingly handsome all the same. “So the key is, mix bacon grease, lard and butter together and then you put your hash browns down, now the secret is, you then leave them alone. Don’t stir, don’t check for done-ness, nothing, you walk away and focus on something else because that’s how you get them crispy.” You said as you showed him then changed gears by putting strips of thick bacon down on a baking sheet and stuck those in the oven and then showed him how you made your pancakes as Darcy went ahead and did her favorite thing- scrambling eggs. “So that’s the key, you look for this consistency, any runnier and the pancakes will be thin and flat, any thicker and they’ll be so thick they won’t cook through all the way, now do you want berries on your pancakes or plain?” You asked.

“Ooh, berries please.” Bro decided.

“Ok, so let me get my special blueberries, these are Leduc blueberries all the way from the Great Lakes, I grew up picking these every summer until they got more commercialized and you can’t go and pick your own blueberries there any more but you can buy a ten pound box still and freeze it, I even have their jelly that is fantastic on anything and everything and that’s in the fridge. So what you do is you can either add a few to the batter once it’s poured into the pan or you can add them right to the batter and all the batter will be berried flavored so does anyone else want blueberries in their pancakes?” You asked as Pierce went ahead and made himself coffee, happy and excited to see all the special varieties you had.

“Sure,” Pierce immediately answered as he was paying attention to the lesson you were giving Bro too.

“Oh yeah,” Darcy agreed as she scrambled a large pan of eggs.

“Ok so I don’t really measure anything, I just get a big ol’ handful and plop them in.” You said as you reached into the bag and got a good handful and put them into the bowl of batter before Bro stirred them in, grinning when the batter started to streak blueish purple as Pierce walked around you and started to try and make toast- gently moving you with his hands on your waist or the small of your back to get around you comfortably.

“Oh uh, you may want to hold off doing that just yet Hun,” you cautioned when you watched his movements. “Like if you really want a piece of toast right now, you can go ahead but I have a different way of making it.” You explained with an apologetic smile as Pierce looked at you in surprise, he thought toast would have been a universal thing, but apparently not- as you grabbed another pan and began to melt butter in it.

“Ok, now start to toast the bread.” You directed as you helped Bro start to pour the batter on the griddle on the counter and once the toast popped up from the toaster you gestured for Pierce to give it to you and once you got all four pieces on a plate you began to fry one side of it into the browning butter in the pan, letting the bread soak it up and stay crispy on the surface before you handed Bro, Darcy and Pierce the now butter fried toast.

“Tada, toast.” You said as Bro and Pierce took the bread and bit into it, their eyes going wide as the butter within the toast seemed to gush out without the toast getting soggy.

“Wow, I didn’t think toast could be improved, but wow, I was wrong.” Pierce said over his mouthful of toast as he started putting more slices of bread into the toaster to repeat that process, Pierce taking over and went ahead and kept going around you and Bro to keep churning out more delicious toast as he quickly got the hang of it as you continued to coach Bro in making pancakes on your griddle before Pierce checked on the bacon and got it flipped before it was cooked and got it out of the oven before getting out some sausage and went ahead and made patties in the bacon grease in the pan and ham steaks and put it back into the oven and you were so happy Pierce was helping and gave him several sweet kisses and proud, grateful and adoring smiles as he continued to help make breakfast too. This was heaven. Jimmy never helped you make breakfast, he always slept in or waited on the couch until you served him breakfast. So to get help making breakfast was amazing and with Pierce helping you put food away and dishes and cleaning up last night, even though it was a small gesture, it meant a lot because it showed he was willing to work with you rather than simply benefit from your work.

Once everything was done, you all gathered around the table and ate breakfast leisurely as you all watched the birds eat out of your bird feeders.

“So what did you guys want to do today?” You asked Bro and Darcy who both shrugged as Pierce mouthed ‘you’ to you which made your cheeks burn but a bashful smile bloomed on your face anyway as you played footsie under the table.

“Well I’m thinking that since we didn’t go to the Rex Plex last night, that we could go today.” You suggested and that seemed to perk them up quite a bit.

After breakfast, all of you took turns getting ready, you packing your lunches out of left overs into special containers before you went back to the Rex Plex. But once there, Pierce wouldn’t keep his hands off of you and because it was Saturday, it was even busier than it was on a Friday night and Pierce talked you into taking “a break” in the family restroom because while you didn’t get a chance to get morning sex, he was going to give you afternoon delight and picked you up and set you on the counter and fucked you so intensely good and it was the struggle of a lifetime to stay quiet and this more than made up for it because if you were going to take care of him then he was going to take care of you the best ways he knew how which melted your heart and afterwords, Pierce took you all out to dinner, since he didn’t think you should have to cook again.

On Sunday you went to your religious services with him so your friends, your in-laws and your parents could meet him and get to know him and Bro and after the service you all went out to lunch and you were beyond happy and thrilled when you could see that Pierce and your parents and your father in law at least were making an effort to get on the best terms possible and afterwards you went back to your house and just relaxed and watched a movie as you made dinner again, something really simple and easy this time and when Pierce and Bro finally went home you felt your home feel a little emptier without them in it, especially Pierce as you resigned yourself to doing your weekend chores as Max was even particularly sad to not have Copper around to play with.

“So? How was it?” Dura asked Bro and Pierce excitedly when Pierce came to drop Bro off, the whole way there, Bro going on and on about ‘Darcy this’ and ‘Darcy that’ and Pierce suddenly became aware that Bro was getting a bit of a crush himself on Darcy which he thought was adorable.

“It was amazing! She fries her toast in butter!” Bro exclaimed excitedly. “And she taught me how to cook! She had me help her cook! She was so nice!” Bro beamed happily.

“She fries her toast in butter?” Dura giggled as she tilted her head to the side curiously.

“Yeah and she has the best blueberries in her freezer from the place she grew up picking them at and they made the best blueberry pancakes ever! And she taught me the secret to the best hash browns, she mixed bacon grease, lard and butter together and then you put the hash browns in the pan and she said the secret is you leave them alone and it worked! They were better than Waffle House!” Bro practically hopped up and down in excitement.

“Oh my goodness! Did you have fun with Darcy too or did you ignore her to hang around Brie the whole time?” Kich teased.

“No we still hung out and played and she’s really fun, although I kinda feel bad because I have nicer toys than she does and she doesn’t have a lot of them.” Bro frowned even though the grownups knew why that was.

“Well maybe you should give her some of yours.” Kich suggested.

“Ooh, ok.” Bro immediately agreed as he left and went to his room to go through his toys to give to Darcy.

“So how was it really?” Dura and Kich asked Pierce once Bro was gone.

“Amazing, she’s still perfect and incredible. Yeah I didn’t think you could improve toast but the frying it in butter thing was epic and I should weigh at least ten more pounds because her food is just that good and she’s still beautiful, even without makeup, inside and out and I love her and yesterday morning she was just in her pajamas with her hair up, contacts out, wearing glasses, which, she looks great in glasses too, and a robe and slippers and she was still a goddess and I had the hardest time trying to keep my hands off of her, we all made breakfast together like we were one big happy family and nothing has ever felt more right in my life than being with her and Darcy and even Darcy was really cool and warmed up a little bit more to me and talked my ears off half the time, I didn’t want to leave. It physically hurt to leave them today and even Copper didn’t want to leave. Her parents are really nice too. Protective, but that’s understandable. I met her in laws and her mother in law eyed me like I was a snake in the grass but her father in law was a really cool guy, her brother in law I could tell was subtly outraged that she was dating again because I think he mentally called dibs and there was this one dude there at the service, actually two, both of them big motherfuckers, like one was 300-350 and the other was 350-400 pounds big, all gut, the slightly smaller one was Jared and the bigger one was Danny. Danny though, he was practically eye raping her through the service this morning and she showed me off to him as her boyfriend and glued herself to my side and she told me afterwards that he had been the biggest sleaze trying to cozy up to her while she was still married to Jimmy which she has to get out of there, if only to get away from him because thankfully he had the good sense to look away whenever I caught him staring and I had to give him the stink eye a couple of times and that she actually feared he would rape her after Jimmy died which I would not put it past him. He himself inherited like 300k when his younger brother died and he was the sole beneficiary and he blew through the money in like two years and that she would never let him touch her money because he’d blow through all that too. She has a BFF who’d be perfect for Cam though, Tessa, she’s adorable, she’s younger than her by like five years, really long, natural red curly hair, she owns a salon in down town Neaton and she’s like 5’4- 5’5 and mostly vegetarian but she makes exceptions for Brie’s cooking which everyone should because it’s amazing.” Pierce grinned mischievously.

“Ooh,” Dura and Kich oohed excitedly.

“So what you’re saying is we need to have a family meal and introduce her to the whole family.” Dura hinted with a twinkle in her eye.

“Yes, sooner than later.” Pierce nodded before Dura started texting you.

“So you ready to get hitched or what?” Kich teased.

“Oh hell yeah although if she’s smart, she’ll have me sign a prenup.” Pierce grinned proudly.

“What? I was about to say, you better not make that girl sign a prenup to marry you.” Dura gasped in surprise.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t ask her to or expect her to. But, yeah, we had the money talk already, I may have more saved up than she does right this second but that’s only because she’s only a little over year into her settlements which are structured perfectly. She did what every financial adviser tells you to do. She got herself out of debt, got all of Jimmy’s assets and things in her name and only her name. Bought the house she lives in outright so she doesn’t pay rent or a mortgage or anything, she just pays insurances and utilities and food and gas and stuff. She bought all her vehicles outright, gave herself a year’s allowance, set up a budget and sticks to it and lives below her means and every settlement check she gets, which she gets them monthly- she simply adds to another account and invests it so she’s collecting interest and only has to pay taxes on the interest and because of how Jimmy died at work, she still gets health benefits from his job so she has health insurance and vision and dental and all that that they simply take out of her settlement at the rate Jimmy would be paying if he was still alive and working there.” Pierce explained.

“Holy cow.” Dura and Kich blinked in amazement before she heard back from you.

“She says yes to the family dinner, we’re having a family dinner at our house in two weeks Babe.” Dura informed Kich who nodded in understanding as Dura started texting her parents and her other siblings who lived out of town.

“Perfect, anyway she makes more in a year in settlements than I do and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future.” Pierce explained as Kich whistled lowly.

“So you really did hit the jackpot huh?” Kich grinned.

“I did. I mean it’s crazy how unassuming and humble and just plain generous she is, she still goes to thrift stores for clothes shopping or looks for sales and uses coupons and points and stuff even though she doesn’t need to, just that mentality of making every dollar stretch is working in her favor. And she could literally have any guy she wanted.”

“And she still wants you?” Kich teased as Dura gave him an unimpressed look.

“I know right? Something’s wrong.” Pierce teased himself which got Dura to roll her eyes.

“So how big were her settlements then?” Dura asked curiously.

“Big enough that I don’t want to tell anyone to keep from anyone taking advantage of her and she probably shouldn’t have even told me but she did after I told her how much I was sitting on because we were and are comfortable and at that point already and we showed each other our accounts and she showed me her budget to see if I had any suggestions which I was taking notes on how she budgeted because it was a really good comprehensive budget and I’ll be using as a template for when we get together, but I will marry her and build her- her dream house wherever she wants which considering she has horses that she keeps at Jimmy’s grandma’s farm- I should be looking for a plot of land in the country but she wants to move here so Bro and Darcy can go to school together.” Pierce beamed happily.

“Bro will love that.” Dura beamed happily.

“Yeah I think he has a crush on her.” Pierce hinted.

“Ya think?” Kich snickered.

“Ok, Mom and Dad are in, I’m still waiting on Prissy and Go and Brie’s talking with her sisters to see if they want to come down.” Dura announced.

“She has three right?” Kich recalled.

“Yup, Blossom, Belladonna and Bianca.” Pierce supplied. “Married to Benjamin, Jackson and Alejandro, respectively.” Pierce added.

“Nice.” Kich nodded in understanding.

“Wow, ok, all of her sisters and her bestie just confirmed, we’re gonna have a full house. Babe, text Cam and tell him and I’ll text Vera and her family.” Dura announced as she continued to text you about it as she quickly texted Vera.

“I got Cam.” Pierce said as he quickly shot Cam a text and told him about it. “Cam is in.” Pierce smirked as he described Tessa to Cameron before they all made plans about it.

The next day, Monday you went to your favorite jewelry store in town and had your wedding ring carefully cut off so they could resize it bigger and while you felt naked without it, thankfully you got done just in time to meet Pierce for lunch again.

“Hey Handsome.” You chirped when you knocked on his door frame as he was in the middle of something and had lost track of time.

“Hey Beautiful, almost done.” Pierce greeted back as you slipped in and shut the door before you sat down in the chair across from him.

“You can come around and sit next to me, I’m not working on anything confidential or anything.” Pierce invited before you did and had to do a double take to see that you weren’t wearing your wedding ring anymore.

“What happened to your ring?” Pierce asked as he paused and watched you come closer.

“I had the jeweler finally cut it off with a bolt cutter because it wasn’t coming off otherwise.” You huffed a laugh.

“Does you finger feel naked with it?” Pierce hinted.

“It does, hint, hint, nudge nudge.” You playfully jabbed at his side with a giggle of your own.

“Hint dully noted. So what’s your ring size again?” Pierce asked curiously.

“Seven.” You answered.

“And is there anything in particular you like? Diamond shape wise or style wise?” Pierce asked giddily.

“This.” You grinned as you showed him your phone.

“Like exactly this or similar or something like this?” Pierce posed.

“Something like this. This size is nice and I like the halo around it, I just want something that’s also comfortable to wear yet unique, some of these rings that have diamonds all around the band look like a pain to wear like they’ll scratch between my fingers and I want something that is very comfortable to wear and wear all the time without babying my hands for fear I’ll loose a stone or something.” You explained as Pierce looked at the picture very carefully and made mental notes.

“So, no rush, but, for now, I’ll just wear this ok?” You proposed before you slid your new right hand ring, a mermaid sapphire ring, you had bought yourself at the store and slid it onto your left hand.

Two weeks later, you found yourself in Dura’s kitchen, making food for the whole family, your whole family as well as Pierce’s family and their close family friends who were like family- only this time, you felt more panic than mania because Pierce’s parents and out of town family were coming over and your own parents and siblings and their husbands were at Dura’s house along with the same group that had been there for Bro’s birthday party since her house was quite a bit bigger than yours and she had a dream kitchen which she was letting you use to make this feast which you had gone all out on as your sisters were doing their best to help you too since this was the official ‘meeting the family�� dinner and everyone was doing their best to make a good impression and so far everyone was getting along great. You were so happy when all your sisters were really welcoming to the idea that you were dating again, even if it was an orc which surprisingly didn’t bother them or matter much to them either way- they were just happy you had found someone who adored you and treated you right and even your sister Bella’s husband Jake was helping you cook since he was a foodie too and the two of you often collaborated when doing the holiday meals together because in your family, it was your father, you and Jake were the best cooks but Bella and Blossom were close seconds. Blossom was on salads and appetizers, Bella was on mac and cheese and desserts and Bianca was doing her thing and making sushi and tempura for everyone which all of Dura’s friends and family really enjoyed as she was also on crab rangoon and crab cake duty while Tessa was on fruit pizza duty as she and Cam shamelessly flirted as he was sensually feeding her strawberries as he sliced them for her to put on the ‘fruit pizzas’ aka sugar cookies with a cool whip and cream cheese spread. Your mother was mashing potatoes and Jake, your dad, Pierce were working on all the meats while Dura was on risotto duty while Vera was working on the Brussels sprouts.

Your feast included brined, marinated and smoked turkeys, two of them and two more turduckens. Four standing rib roasts, also smoked and cooked to perfection, two briskets, four smoked BBQ pork shoulders, a case of smoked and butter poached lobster tails, a case of snow crab legs, dozens of home made crab cakes and crab rangoons made with king crab. Six whole filets of spicy honey glazed hot smoked salmon and a fillet of cold smoked salmon sliced super thin, 30 lbs of jumbo shrimp cooked in various ways from smoked to grilled or fried. A proper crawfish boil, a dozen smoked chickens and sausage and two heavenly spiraled hams. Then for sides you had your alcoholic’s sweet potatoes, your mushroom risotto with morels and truffles this time, death by cheese mac and cheese, twice baked potatoes and garlic fingerling potatoes and mashed potatoes and a butter, bone marrow and froie gras stuffing, green bean casserole, corn on the cob, maple bacon glazed brussles sprouts and other vegetables, three different kinds of salads and even a huge fruit salad, heavy on the berries, sweet rolls and regular rolls and biscuits and cornbread and dozens of desserts and all kinds of antipasto and appetizers. You had outdone yourself and it had taken seven loaded cars, trucks and vans to get it all there and you had bought I giant smoker to smoke it all. You had brought 2 cases of wine and Pierce had bought two kegs of beer and the both of you brought along dozens of bottles of specialty beer and pop and lemonade, both regular and spiked and punch and Dura had also made huge batches of sangria, a red, a white and a blush and you had worked out every possible conceivable thing to make sure this meal was complete and perfect and Dura and her friends all watched in sheer amazement as you, your father and Jake orchestrated everything and everyone like proper chefs. Pierce really had found the find of a lifetime and they were all counting and thanking their lucky stars to be a part of all this. Even Pierce was doing his best to help you which you really appreciated it as he and your mother kept you from panicking too badly. Pierce on several instances just outright hugging you and whispering his praise and assurances that you were doing great and that everyone was having fun and a good time and that his parents were going to love and adore you which you really needed to hear. Pierce had even braided and beaded your hair himself that morning, showing off a custom bead he had made at the bead shop just for you, it was a twist on a wedding bead that meant ‘one I am devoted to for life’. Using your favorite colors and fancy gold flecks and pearlized and metallic flecks and actual opal and mother of pearl in the glass so that it glittered and almost glowed in any light and it was by far the most magnificent bead ever.

Meanwhile, Pierce’s own parents were getting ready themselves, Pierce’s mother Bula fussing over her hair and her own beads to make sure she looked perfect. Since that first meeting, Pierce and Dura both had not stopped talking about you and your cooking and how awesome you were and how you were perfect and beautiful and practically a goddess and it had made Bula a little nervous herself while Khan was just looking forward to eating your cooking, as long as you were nice, respectful and good to his son, he could care less about everything else. They had always worried about Pierce because most Orcs got married either in high school or right out of high school and they had just thought that Pierce would perhaps find someone in college, which he did date while in school, just never seriously and only occasionally and he had never introduced them to the family, simply mentioned them in passing, usually after he had already broken up with them, this was his first really serious relationship and it was with you. They had worried that he was just too picky and that now that he was past his prime in their book. Orcs thought their prime was between 16-21, and that now he had waited too long and that he would never find woman at 25 because all the good ones were already married with kids and that the divorcees with kids often had more problems than they were worth, or so the opinion was. But when they found out about you and Pierce told them your story, while they were sad that you were widowed, they were just so happy and relieved that you were available and that Pierce had scooped you up at the perfect time because Pierce and Dura spoke of all the best qualities in not just a good woman but an ideal one as well.

When Pierce’s parents and two other siblings and their families arrived from out of town, it took all you had not to start hyperventilating as Pierce had to lay his hands on your shoulders before he held your face to keep you looking at him and breathe with you to get you not to panic to keep you together before they walked into the kitchen, Bula and Khan’s eyes going really wide as their jaws dropped to see all the food as did Pierce’s other sister Pritha and her husband Azuk and Pierce’s brother Gorgo and his wife Shagar and all their kids’ jaws all dropped too as they gasped in astonishment.

“Holy shit.” They all breathed when they saw the spread before they met you as you shook all their hands and introduced yourself and your family to them and Darcy was thankfully very charming and to your relief all of them welcoming you with open arms and hugging you tight, Pierce’s mother, sister and sister in law fawning over you and your beads and Pierce’s brother and brother in law and father all hugged you again two more times when you showed them the standing rib roasts and coolers full of ice and beer and the kegs before they all proposed to you for Pierce which got you and your family to laugh as you “jokingly” accepted as they all took pictures of the absolutely epic feast and dug into the appetizers as the other elements of the dinner were finishing up getting ready because Dura had told them to not eat before they came and to bring their appetites and they had taken a leap of faith and listened to her and were so grateful they had because this was enough food to feed an army and not just a lot of food, very high quality food too, they had never eaten a feast this amazing before this was like all the major holiday dinners rolled into one and then multiplied by a thousand. And once the dinner was ready and put on the table, Khan said grace over the meal and officially welcomed you into the family and thanked the gods for bringing you and your family into their family and making it whole and complete during the prayer which choked you and your family up before everyone dug in. Thankfully Dura had a formal dining room with a table long enough to seat everyone and big enough to hold the giant feast on while having to add another table just for the kids and it was perfect.

Everyone had so much fun and gorged themselves and Darcy got so many new cousins who were around her age as you sat between Pierce and his mother while your father and Khan sat side by side and got to know each other better and got on famously as if they had always been the best of friends and even made plans to go fishing together since they both loved fishing as you and Bula got to know each other better and both of you relieved that the other was as nice as you were hoping- as Bula especially was absolutely tickled to have you as a prospective daughter in law because your beads were clearly engagement and wedding beads so she knew it was only going to be a matter of time before you would be officially engaged in human terms and started to mentally plan your wedding in her head and she could see what her son loved about you and was heartbroken when she heard how bad your health was and swore that Pierce would take care of you forever and that you fit right in and even though you went way overboard with this feast, she understood why you did it, but it was, by far, the best meal she and the rest of her family ever had and you were requested to make every holiday family meal from then on out which you agreed to as Dura readily offered her house to be the host house until you and Pierce built one of your own with an exaggerated wink which got you and Pierce to laugh and smile bashfully at each other as his arm rested possessively over your shoulders again as you cuddled into his side. During the meal you got to acquire everyone’s phone numbers and addresses since they were all wanting to be the first ones to get a wedding invitation since you had ‘agreed’ to the proposals which you took in stride and grace and agreed to.

Thankfully Pierce and Dura had told everyone about how you became a widow before this so that never came up in conversation but it was a very common sentiment that they were all happy you were free to join their family and they had all put a little bit of pressure on Pierce to not fuck things up with you and to do whatever it took to keep you, which he took in stride and with grace too and assured and reassured everyone that he was already on it and he wasn’t going to let you get away, not without the fight of his life but that didn’t quite keep his sister Pritha’s skeptical nature from being voiced.

“Are you sure she’s not a gold digger? You’re moving awfully fast and I’m just worried this meal is a trap for us to like her and not question her motives and are you sure you didn’t over-bead her?” Pritha, nicknamed ��Prissy’ by her siblings behind her back, whispered to Pierce as she stood in the kitchen and refilled her wine glass with sangria as Pierce was refilling his own cup with beer from one of the kegs as Dura was getting seconds and overheard Prissy’s objection to you and came over to investigate.

“Are you serious right now? She has social anxiety coupled with a perfectionism complex. She was practically hyperventilating before you guys came because she was afraid you guys wouldn’t like her and she’s the sweetest most genuine person ever. Besides she has her own money. Her husband had multiple life insurance policies through work and his parents had a really big life insurance policy on their son for her too because they didn’t think what he had was enough. Plus she has...” Dura quickly defended, having figured Pritha would be the most skeptical but she needed to defend you.

“She’s set for life Pritha, and she’s just trying her best to make the best impression she can and to make us all happy and doing everything she can to learn and be mindful and embracing of our culture and differences so she’s not offensive in any way. And if anything she’s under-beaded and she’s earned every single one of them too and if she had married our kind the first time around she would be even more spectacularly beaded than she is now and you can bet that prissy ass of yours that she wouldn’t be free to join our family and I would be shit out of luck. Plus she’s smart with her money, she paid off all her debt, bought her house and all her cars outright and cut herself a check for a year’s expenses and is sitting on the rest and earning interest off of it and lives below her means and she tries her hardest not to spoil Darcy because she grew up really poor, like way poorer than we ever did. She told me that when she was really young they only had $20 for groceries to feed a family of four for a week and all her sisters and her parents confirmed that story. She grew up eating lentils, beans and rice and off brand cereal and whatever they could grow in the garden or fish in the lakes and streams in the Great Lakes area or whatever meat her dad could hunt, usually deer. That kind of poor. And so this feast isn’t supposed to impress us with how lavish she’s expecting to live when we get married, it’s just something nice she wanted to do and could do and do so comfortably even though I nearly threw up when she went through the check out lane but she very happily paid for all the food and I practically had to twist her arm off just so that I could pay for the kegs and she has not asked for a dime from me since I met her, I’ve offered to help cover the expense of the meal and she flat out refused and even her parents or her sisters have offered to chip in at least and she’s turned them down too. And she actually uses her means to help take care of her parents too because she’s a very dutiful daughter and she believes in traditional family values and taking care of her parents in their old age and will probably be more than willing to do the brunt of the work taking care of our parents if she gets half a chance, I mean look at her and mom right now, you’d think they were already related. Plus she suffers from chronic illnesses so even if she looks ok, she struggles physically with things like endurance and stamina, this for her was a very big burst of activity so she’ll need a few days at least to rest and recover so cut her a lot of slack. She’s refused the financial help because she doesn’t want what’s happening right now happening but at least she accepts help in the form of actual cooking, all of us pitched in so she didn’t do this all by herself.” Pierce cut his sister off, not wanting Dura to mention your settlements because he didn’t want Pritha to suddenly shift from accusing you of being a gold digger to being one herself because he had helped Pritha with her bills on more than one occasion and he didn’t want anyone in his family to take advantage of you as he gave Pritha a meaningful look as Pritha considered all of that and realized she may have been too quick to judge you.

“And I had to twist her arm off to pay for the ingredients to the sangria, everything else she firmly insisted she pay for on her own and just showed up with, she’s just naturally really generous, the way people who grew up really poor often are.” Dura added.

“Ok, fine, I’m sorry, jeez.” Pritha dropped it before she continued to enjoy the downright heavenly meal.

Two months later Pierce, yourself, Darcy and Bro checked into a hotel that had it’s own water park next to Cedar Point and once in, Darcy and Bro immediately got dressed into their swimsuits as did you and Pierce before you went down to the water park and once Darcy and Bro were good and immersed, Pierce and yourself swam over to the swim up bar and ordered drinks to enjoy while Darcy and Bro swam around and went down the water slides.

“This is awesome.” You sighed wistfully as you drank your fruity mixed drink as you cuddled into Pierce’s side as he wrapped his arm around possessively around you.

“It is.” Pierce agreed as he sipped his beer, humming in delight as he rubbed your arm affectionately.

“I’m glad we could get away this weekend, I’ve been looking forward to this all year.” You admitted.

“Yeah me too,” Pierce nodded as he tried not to grin too mischievously. You two had grown so inexplicably close since you two first met and both of you acted and treated each other as if you were already married and by now, everyone had come to accept it, everyone in your family giving you their blessing while your friends and in-laws made their peace with it while Pierce from that weekend on spent every weekend with you, usually at your house with the occasional exception of when Darcy would spend the weekend at her grandparents house so you could spend the weekend at his place or simply enjoyed having the house to yourselves and not have to be subdued in your affections in front of Darcy. And from that weekend on there was quickly a routine that sprung up. He always met you at the Rex Plex on Friday after he got out of work, flowers for you and flowers for Darcy always in hand because both of you loved to get flowers and he could afford to get you some at the flower shop down the street from work and after giving you and Darcy your flowers- before Darcy would get drawn in to play again with the other kids, would give you a wonderful romp in the family bathroom before relaxing and enjoying an evening watching Hayden play as you usually brought dinner for the three of you in a crock pot before he would come home with you and spend the weekend with you and Darcy or even when Darcy spent the weekend with her grandparents, you really got to enjoy your weekend with Pierce and be as loud as you wanted to be. This trip to Cedar Point was your birthday present from Pierce and one that you were eager to accept it and Pierce had gone all out on it. He had booked you a suite that had it’s own bedroom with a bunk bed for Darcy and Bro which gave you and Pierce plenty of privacy.

The next morning you all were walking into Cedar Point before you were stopped by a photographer to get a picture of your family as you were coming in which Pierce insisted you should do and as you stood and posed for the picture Pierce surprised you by getting down on one knee next to you and proposed. You gasped and the photographer snapped several shots of it as a crowd had gathered around you to applaud and cheer when you immediately had said yes and started crying as Pierce slipped a ring that while it was similar to the one you had first shown him, it was actually way prettier and way bigger than the one you showed him too, it was a whole 5 carats and an emerald cut rather than the cushion cut and it was spectacular and then he dipped you to kiss you which was also the best thing ever. You cried even more when Pierce then presented Darcy with a ‘promise bracelet’ an actual diamond tennis bracelet that he was going to look after her and take care of her and love her as the best father figure he could be and Darcy was crying herself and hugged him as he knelt before her while Bro recorded it all and cried happily too. Once you and Darcy regained your composure, you all headed for the wrist band booth to get the wrist bands to cut all the lines before you went straight to the new coaster to ride that. Once in line you and Darcy took a moment to appreciate your ring and her bracelet and immediately uploaded a new ‘family photo’ of Pierce, Darcy and yourself taken by Bro as Pierce had picked Darcy up and had you under the other arm so that your heads would be relatively together and it was Pierce’s brightest happiest smile ever. You posted it on all social media and then after a magnificent weekend in Cedar Point, Pierce finally moved in with Darcy’s stamp of approval and the first thing Pierce moved in was actually a huge box from Lush that had two of every single bath bomb they had- along with dozens of other bath bombs he had gotten from all over and Darcy was thrilled and when Pierce announced that he would also take her to get her ears pierced, she was beyond sold and immediately and happily started calling him ‘Dad’ which got you and Pierce to choke up. That and now she had two dogs who slept with her, Pierce’s dog Copper and her own dog Max before Pierce even got her a kitten too and you didn’t even bother getting upset that he was spoiling her rotten, if it was anyone else doing so though, it would have been a different story.

Pierce took the week off of work to not only get himself moved into your house but to also go with you and the Realtor around before you came upon a large parcel of land that had a very dilapidated old farm house but the barn was still in good condition and it even had a corral and fenced in pastures for horses that had been used for cattle before and was coded farmland so that you could own farm animals. It was perfect. You bought it on the spot and bulldozed the house to the ground to make room to build your dream house which Pierce, Darcy and yourself all worked on together to make sure it was everything you could ever want and fixed the barn up all while planning your wedding so that the house would be done by the time the wedding took place so that after the wedding, your family could officially move in. It was perfect.

#exophilia #modern orc #orc boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster love #monster lemon #I didn't mean to take this long to update it #but tada #Pierce and i part 6 #where I give myself a happily ever after #and completely indulge myself and give myself a fantasy in a perfect world

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amyscascadingtabs · 3 years ago

Text

give you my wild, give you a child

"stupid numbers, think they’re so great. i'd love to see numbers give you a baby."

inspired by that one line in 8x08 renewal, because he really did give her a baby.

read on ao3

It's been three days and Amy can't stop crying.

Sometimes she thinks it's stopped, that she'll finally have a stable moment to talk to her husband or eat a meal in peace or facetime some of the twenty or so relatives on her list, but it feels like it’s never more than minutes before her emotions swim to surface again and something new brings out the vibrating sobs that have seemed to characterize this day. As it turns out, even newly pregnant Amy has got nothing on three days postpartum Amy.

That she cries about the big, life-changing things doesn’t surprise her. When she wakes up after a night of minimal sleep and sees Mac in the bedside crib next to her, she cries because she’s so grateful; that everything went well, that their baby is finally here and that he's perfect beyond words. Then she cries because she thinks about what could have happened if it hadn't gone well, because she gave birth in a makeshift birthing suite in a police precinct, and so many things could have gone wrong it’s a miracle nothing did. When she gets out of the shower, she cries seeing herself in the bathroom mirror, because she's proud of her body in a way she's never experienced before. Then she cries because she also barely recognizes the person staring back at her, still looking six months pregnant except with hospital underwear and nursing pads in her bra. When she has breakfast after feeding Mac and tries to read the newspaper, she cries because so many terrible things are happening in the world all the time, and she doesn’t know how she’s going to protect this child from a world that sometimes seems to be getting more and more cruel by the day. Then she cries out of guilt for feeling that way, because she’s supposed to be enjoying this baby bubble, and what kind of mother even is she for daring to think about anything but her baby right now?

As the day goes on, however, her reasons for crying begin to feel increasingly ridiculous. She cries because she’s so relieved to be drinking regular coffee again, then because it doesn’t taste the same as decaf and she’s gotten so used to it that the caffeine tastes weird now. She cries because the coffee goes cold anyway when Mac begins to whimper and suck on his fingers in the way he seems to do whenever he’s hungry and she has to drop everything to feed him another time. She cries when Jake turns on the television and a commercial for diapers comes on, because she can’t believe they get to buy them now. Then she cries when Mac has finished eating because the red flannel she borrowed slash stole from Jake won’t button properly, and she realizes one of the buttons has gone in the wrong hole and she has to redo the whole thing. When Jake offers to help her with it, that makes her cry too, because the way he’s not laughing at her right now but patiently trying to solve her problems is making her feel so loved she doesn't know how to thank him.

The thing that makes her cry most of all, though, is watching Jake and Mac together. She always knew that sight would drive her crazy, and it’s part of the reason she wanted to have kids with him so much in the first place, but not even in her most indulgent fantasies about their future could she have pictured this. As grateful as she is over the fact that she gets to be a mom, getting to see Jake be a dad is a close second. He loves their son so much, and Mac so clearly loves him too, and Amy has to remind herself of the nine months she's spent carrying this child by herself in order not to feel jealous when Mac stops fussing the moment Jake picks him up. He looks so tiny when Jake holds him, the back of his head fitting perfectly in Jake's palm, and the care with which he’s handling him keeps making her emotional. He's always talking to him, sometimes whispers she can't hear and sometimes praise for her which she can, and that makes her cry too. He even chats to him when he changes his diapers, which Amy hides behind the door frame just so she can hear, failing to stifle a giggle when he asks in a fake interrogation voice what Mac has to say to his defense for making such a mess. He wakes up with her in the middle of the night when she has to breastfeed to get her endless glasses of water and granola bars when it makes her feel starving, and then he lets Mac burp him in the face and spit up on the back of his shirt before he falls back asleep curled up on his chest. He leans his chin on the top of Mac’s head to smell that perfect baby scent, running his finger over those cute neck rolls, and the smile on his face when he looks back at Amy makes her completely lose it, because this is what she dreamed of all along.

This is what she imagined when they visited her brother Christian’s new baby shortly before they got married and Jake spent the better part of an hour making funny faces to the child in his arms. This is what she panicked over when he said he wasn't sure if he wanted kids, because she had always thought. This is what she thought of those nights after another timed round of unenthusiastic sex, trying to keep the hope alight until that single line would once more tell them not this time. She had felt it in his teary smile when she showed him that first positive test, in how hard he'd squeezed her hand at their first ultrasound when their baby’s heartbeat had filled the room, in the absolute joy on his face the first time he’d managed to put his hand on her stomach just in time to feel their son kick, and now it's right in front of her and almost too much for her heart to take.

She's so tired, and she's sore and overwhelmed and worried about a billion different things, but she's never felt so grateful.

That's what makes her cry floods at three a.m. when Mac seems to have finished eating and she comes back from the bathroom to find Jake still sitting up with him in bed, holding him with a hypnotised look on his face. He doesn’t even seem tired, even though he must be, is just looking at his son like he’s holding the entire world in his arms and doesn’t ever want to let go. She always knew seeing him with a baby would be incredible, those surprisingly toned biceps curling around a fragile little human and those heart eyes focused on one thing only, but maybe she hadn’t expected not being able to watch it without breaking into tears.

“Jeez, Ames,” he says when he looks up, the expression on his face changing to one of concern. “Are you okay? Honestly?”

“Yeah,” she sniffles and dries her eyes again as she sits down on the bed. The skin on her cheeks is stinging at this point. “I just can’t believe this is my life.”

“Why not?” Mac’s pacifier glides out of his mouth, and Jake puts it back with two fingers before he can notice anything. “We’re right here, babe. We’re very much real.”

“Sometimes I thought it was never going to happen.” She hiccups. “All the times we’ve been apart. The months we fought to have him. How freaking long and exhausting being pregnant was. And now I have him, and you, and I’m just so grateful I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“That’s why you’re crying?”

“I think I don’t even know why I’m crying anymore. I’m so sleep-deprived.”

“Yeah.” Jake smirks. “But I get it. I’m really, really grateful too.”

Mac makes a short gurgling sound that Amy takes to mean he agrees. She reaches out so his hand can wrap around her ring finger, feeling him squeezing it tight in the cutest grip. The grey striped pajamas has little mittens on it to keep him from scratching herself, but Mac gets upset whenever they pull them down, so Amy figures they'll just have to keep filing his nails instead. Their son is already both opinionated and stubborn, and she loves it about him, because she loves everything about who he is. He's perfect, and he's hers, and she still can't quite believe it even though he's right there in Jake's arms. It's all her dreams coming true, and it's making all the hard things feel so worth it.

“Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for giving me a baby,” she whispers. She’s too tired, barely even knows what she's saying anymore, but looking at the two of them, all she can think about is how incredibly lucky and thankful she feels.

Jake blinks in disbelief, grinning at her. “Wait, I gotta make sure I heard this right. Did you just thank me for giving you a baby?”

“Uh-huh?”

“And you're serious about this?”

“Well… yeah.”

“So you mean after nine months,” he says, still wide-eyed, “of you telling me, minimum a couple times a week but pretty much daily toward the end, that I could never understand what you're going through, and then you shouting some lovely descriptions at me whilst you were literally pushing him out, and also earlier this evening when you cried because I can't breastfeed him for you – you’re thanking me?”

“Some of it was a team effort,” she insists. “You helped.”

“Oh yeah, my nards sure are loving the credit.”

“Don't be gross.”

“Sorry.” He smiles, a little bashfully, stroking his fingers back and forth over Mac’s forehead instead of looking at her. “But Ames, c’mon. It was a pretty limited effort compared to what you did.”

“Maybe they’re not the same thing.” She leans her head on his shoulder. Mac is still holding on to her finger, but his grip is getting looser now. “But you were part of it too, babe.”

“Really?” He’s blushing. “What did I do that was so special?”

“Let's see. You didn’t laugh at me when I kept crying at everything the first weeks. Rosa made fun of me on a daily basis, but you just hugged me and told me everything was going to be okay. You let me sleep in when I had days off, even though I pretended I wanted you to wake me up. You fixed food for me without telling me what it was, and put it in front of me before I could feel sick thinking about it.” She shakes her head at the memory of those, few but complicated, weeks, and how hard they’d had to work around it. “You kept telling me I looked great even when my body kept changing and it all felt weird, and helped me pick out maternity wear when I didn’t want to do it on my own. I don’t know that I would have taken barely any bump pictures if you hadn't made me. You listened to all my research about the best strollers and pacifiers and cribs, and you did those courses and read all those books with me, and you came to almost every scan and held my hand so tight every time. You came home with onesies and hats because you thought they were too cute not to buy, and you gave me massages whenever I wanted them, and you even slept on the couch a couple nights at the end when I got angry at you for snoring. You barely even complained about it.”

“I complained a little,” Jake mumbles. “When you couldn’t hear me.”

“Fine. And lastly, you rode a horse through the city to get to me while I was in labor, and you didn’t even act like seeing him be born was gross.”

“I mean, it was a little bit gross.” Jake lifts Mac so he can kiss his forehead when he whimpers. “No offense, bud. I mean you looked perfect, I didn’t think you looked like a slimy alien even for a second, didn’t cross my mind, et cetera.”

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Point is, babe, you were there. You're here now. I know I did the actual work, but you were the one who made sure I could. I don’t know how I would have made it through without you. So… thank you.”

He doesn't give her any witty comebacks for that, only a shy smile.

“I love you,” Amy all but whispers through the tears that fight their way through her determination to keep them in. “Both of you. So much.”

“Love you, Ames.”

She kisses him, putting her hands on each side of his thighs so she can reach over Mac. Kissing is a lot more complicated than usual when both his hands are busy and none of them wants to risk crushing their son, but it's still nice, feeling his soft lips on hers and squeezing his lower lip between both of hers for just a moment before pulling apart.

“It's hard to kiss you while you're holding a baby,” she says, and Jake grimaces. “That might be the only bad thing about it.”

“My bad. I’m just going to put him down so we can make out all night.”

“Don't you dare. He currently doesn't have a boob in his mouth and he's still not crying, you're not doing anything to risk that now.” Amy pulls the comforter up to her chin. “Wake me up when he needs to eat again and not a second earlier.”

Jake chuckles at her as she turns out the light and snuggles up close to him, but he makes no move to put Mac down or even protest, and she didn't think it was possible to love him even more. Her heart has definitely grown with becoming a mom, much like everyone told her about, but most seem to have forgotten to prepare her for how much it would also grow when it came to her partner.

“I still think I’m the one who should say thank you,” Jake whispers just as she closes her eyes, and Amy can't help but smile. “If we're talking about who gave who a baby.”

“Jake, just accept the praise.”

“Oh, yeah.” She doesn't need to see his face to know that he's grinning. “I’ve locked it in a little box in my brain and I’m gonna keep it as gloat material forever, bringing it up when you least expect it.”

“That's great, babe.”

“Mm-hmm. We both know the truth, though.” Jake's left hand strokes over the top of her head, and Amy has to look up to see that Mac is still resting safely on his right arm and doesn't seem to have noticed a thing. Another tear fight its way down her cheek at the thought of how safe he must feel with him. This time, she doesn’t even bother to wipe it away.

#my writing #b99 #brooklyn nine-nine #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #b99 fanfiction #no eps this week but i finally finished this haha!#pls enjoy <3 #also thank u niamh and ajit for helps with all the reasons amy would be crying!!!#oh also the three people who voted on the title thank you

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cerastes · 3 years ago

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I respect FF14 a lot for having a lot you could possibly want to do. Some systems are flawed, sure (FATEs and anything that comes from them, for example), but overall, the game manages to give so much to do without feeling lazy that the way Person A plays the game can be completely different from how Person B plays the game, something that can’t be artificially fostered and can only happen with an organic, dynamic community that’s been given the tools and systems to do just that.

Some people like crafting, some people like RPing, some people like housing and everything that has to do with the real estate (did you know there’s an active night club scene in FF14? Complete with players having employees they pay with Gil, and atmospheres for RP and ERP?), some people like focusing on the story content, some people like hunting, some people like playing the market, some people play the highest level content, and much more.

It’s nice. I myself love hunting, playing the market, and spawning secret map bosses like Formidable and Archaeotania (which I put together with hunting, personally). I know duty finder as a feature on modern MMOs is a point of discussion and even contention among MMO enthusiasts, but I personally enjoy being able to just be by my lonesome, get matched with random players, and then we all walk our separate way. I find it immersive, even, since it lets me indulge in mercenary fantasies of “we’re here for the contract, strictly business, then we split the reward and go hit our side of the trail”.

Last time I played an MMO actively before FF14 was Knights Online a long time ago, and while I loved it, it was definitely a whole other beast, as it was a PvP-centric MMO, so the PvE content was extremely scarce and only preparatory for the real deal, which was fighting other players in large scale combat. Since then, I did try a lot of MMOs, but none really grabbed me, I’d give them a month (like I did with WoW) and then just not find myself really wanting to go deeper. While I do miss a robust PvP system, because end of the day, the best game to hunt is your fellow man and nothing will ever change that, FF14 does in fact give so much of everything else that I do in fact find myself drawn to it. It facilitates playing with friends, which is good, it facilitates being a hermit, which is also good and I appreciate, and it offers a good story, which is wonderful.

If I have a complaint about the story is that the characters, for a long time, feel like plot devices, no, hmm, like Personalities, I guess, fulfilling certain Roles more than characters. It’s more like you’re supposed to like the Concept of the dynamic more than the dynamic itself? I think the perfect example for this is Minfilia, an absolute zero of a character who is just the most milquetoast, bland goody-two-shoes they could possibly slip out of a Klondike bar’s filling. She exists conceptually, and conceptually only. One of her early lines is “I hope you come to think of us as your family”, which is a great exhibit for this: Go ahead, says, the game, accept the roles we gave each character, THIS is how you should feel about this cast, this is how we structured the dynamics, artificially and our end, says the game. Which goes in great contrast with how full of personality the ROG/NIN cast is or how poignantly personal the DRK story gets, it’s like day and night, NIN and DRK stories don’t need to tell you anything, they depend on their writing chops, very different styles of writing one from the other, mind you, to make you believe these characters are living, breathing people in a world that affects them and that they can affect. It finally, I think, grows out of this in Shadowbringers (DRK writer, no wonder), since there you actually do interact a lot with the other Scions that aren’t Alphinaud in ways that aren’t merely superficial: Pre-Shadowbringers, Alphinaud is really the only Scion you spend any significant amount of time with, as in, you are actually Out There together, doing negotiations and getting shit done. Hell, you spend more time with Estinien and Iceheart than you do with the other Scions until Shadowbringers. Alisaie later also joins Alphinaud in people you actually can be expected to know, and during Stormblood, Yugiri and Gosetsu also do spend a lot of time with you, doing things with you, and I feel very good when I think of them, I like them a lot as characters, I know Stormblood wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I drank it with a smile on my face, really loved Stormblood, haha. The thing is, all interactions with non-twins Scions before Shadowbringers is completely limited to doing errands for them, bwahahaha. A lot of people were like “MAN Y’SHTOLA FLIRTS WITH YOU SO MUCH” and to me it was like “man all she did is tell you that you got those Quest Items fast, dude, chill”. Shadowbringers, as I said, does correct this, and I love it, I had no real appreciation for the non-twins Scions before ShB to be honest, but ShB changed that. Urianger in particular is a riot, what a fun and funny character. I like them all now (except Lyse). My favorite is Alphinaud. His journey of being a hypercompetent twat that suddenly became aware of just how heavy the crosses he was shouldering were is exquisite.

But this complaint, well, one, it’s resolved by Shadowbringers, as I said, and two, even before ShB, it wasn’t ever grave enough to ever dissuade me from wanting to play more. I care. I care about what happens to these people. That’s what a good story does: It makes you care, and I care.

So all in all, my time with FF14 has been very fun, I’ve experienced many things, had a lot of fun, and can fully say that taking the risk with it, given I’m not really into hotbar games, was more than fully worth it. I’m looking forward to Endwalker very much. My favorite class is Ninja, but I think that was evident.

#a months-after-the-fact review I suppose

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hardskz · 5 years ago

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a penny for your thoughts.

pairing — han jisung x female! reader

genre — trope inversion of the soulmate au, college au, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff-ish, smut; oral, possessiveness kink, praise kink, safe word, size kink, first time

synopsis — life isn’t easy when you belong to the 1% of the world population that has a soulmate, know who your soulmate is and happen to be utterly in love with said soulmate’s best friend. alternatively, jisung can hear all of your unfiltered thoughts and has heard enough of your horny fantasies to the point where he wants to throw up, so he takes matters in his own hands.

note — i think i’m gonna cry this work is my 11k word BABY i’ve never been THIS invested over a fic. this is purely self-indulgent and an emotional rollercoaster ride if you ask me. this fic is all over the place it’s chaotic and i apologize in advance for many italics you are welcome i hope you CRY and SUFFER with me because completing this bitch was a midlife crisis in itself. that being said, i appreciate any form of constructive criticism so pls go ahead and rip my baby apart sdkjl

“You’re staring again,” Hyunjin notes. Seungmin and Jeongin stifle a burst of laughter while Felix, whose head is resting on Hyunjin’s lap, sends you a look that resembles Candace from Phineas and Ferb whenever she finds her brothers creating some whacky futuristic shit, laughs like a madman and then resumes to call her mother with an ear-splitting MOOOM! because she’s so certain that her brothers are busted this time.

“Am not,” you huff as you tear your eyes away from the guy just sitting a little bit farther away from you, basking in the warm glow of the sun. Today he’s sitting in the perfect angle, giving you the best view on his side profile. His signature cap is perched right on top of his head but even then, you can see how his eyes brighten up and how the corners of his lips tug upwards as he laughs at his friend’s joke.

“You’re a worse case than the Mary Sue protagonist of every romance anime ever.” Seungmin snorts before he playfully nudges your side with his shoe. “Just say you want Seo Changbin to bang you and go.”

“Hey! We have a child present!” Hyunjin chastises, to which Jeongin rolls his eyes.

“I’m not a child. We’re all in fucking college.”

“Fine, not a child then. The baby has been corrupted! Don’t swear, it sounds so wrong coming from you!”

“Shut up. It’s called freedom of speech!”

“It’s ‘shut up Hyung’ to you!”

Felix groans in distress and is probably rethinking his life choices. Seriously, what does Felix, resident hopeless romantic, see in Hyunjin? Sure, he’s good-looking and a great friend when he’s not bitching around or hovering over the nearest trash can after taking too many shots. But a romantic? Please, Hyunjin can’t even eat without making a mess out of his shirt.

“I don’t want him to bang me,” you mutter and receive a collective ‘yeah sure’ look. “Fine, I don’t want him to bang me only. He’s nice,” you retort before your eyes flit back to him for a millisecond. By now, Changbin has put his hands on the grass and is leaning back, enjoying the sunlight while listening halfheartedly to the other guy blabbering.

“And hot. We get it. Now get dicked,” Seungmin deadpans, earning flabbergasted looks from everyone and a smack from Hyunjin.

“Show a little more empathy, you dickwad. She’s whipped.”

“Anyway—“ Felix sits up, earning a pout from Hyunjin but he blatantly ignores it, and directs the conversation back to the previous topic before the other two bump heads, “(y/n), you have his number. You’re not strangers, so why don’t you just make a move?”

You glance at him with horror in your eyes. “What do you expect me to do? Ring him up and ask him to hang out with me because I find him cute?”

“Uh, duh? Last time I checked, that’s how you ask someone out.”

“Absolutely not.”

“New idea.” Seungmin butts in. “Why don’t you ask Han Jisung—“

“No.”

“Agreed.” Hyunjin shoots you a nod of approval before Seungmin can start yet another interrogation about your bitter hatred towards Jisung. Jisung, who happens to be said friend of Changbin that is laughing beside him right now. “He must think he’s so much better than us because he’s hanging out with the senior geniuses of the music production major. Then again, Seo Changbin and Bang Chan are on a different level than us commoners.”

“Speaking of Chan,” you quickly say to steer the conversation away from the personification of everything you hate. “Where is he? It’s so weird seeing the trio incomplete.”

This time, Jeongin chimes in. “Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Chan and that one language major — you know, the one who collapsed a while back?” When all he’s met with are clueless faces, Jeongin sighs. “Seriously, you guys should keep up with campus news. I swear, everyone and their mothers already know by now. But anyway, they’re soulmates. It’s also the reason why Chan has been pulled out of the boxing team until the end of the semester and had to cancel their training camp as soon as she broke down.”

Felix does a double-take. “But Chan’s the ace of the boxing club!”

“It is what it is.” Jeongin stretches his legs out, shrugging. “What else is to expect when you have the proximity link and need to be around your soulmate within a certain distance unless you want death?”

“Poor guy. Must be a smack in the face for him, now that he’s got a soulmate and happens to have the worst link one could have.” Seungmin says.

“The tattoos are worse though.” Hyunjin fires back. “I mean, you’re literally born with a tattoo of your soulmate’s name and then grow up knowing that you have one? And even if you never meet them, you won’t have better chances with others if you want some romance. Who in their right mind wants to have a lover who’s got someone else’s name tattooed on them since birth?”

“No one.” You chuckle. “Absolutely no one.”

In another lifetime, another universe, you and Jisung would probably be on better terms. He’s sunshine on legs and looks decent from an objective point of view.

In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe you’re childhood friends and have been neighbors ever since your first shit in your diapers. Perhaps you would be clowned from being inseparable once in a while, but you’d go with it and then shrug it off as if it was nothing.

In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe that being soulmates doesn’t equal the downfall of two people. Sure, the fact that people are bound to each other and the danger of growing too dependent on that person remains, but it probably won’t be so frowned upon. Probably. Hopefully.

However, as much as you want to twist it, another lifetime is not this lifetime, the reality.

In reality, you and Jisung are only neighbors because the universe has some kind of inexplicable hatred towards you. Seriously, you must’ve done something wrong in your previous life to be punished in this one. And because the universe has sadistic tendencies and loves to make you suffer, the laws of the universe are just as equally fucked up.

The concept of soulmates is a lot of things, but most of all, it’s a mystery. There are endless possibilities for soulmate links, not all of them discovered. And unlike popular belief, soulmates do not have to necessarily share the same link. So voilà, even more fuckery from the universe.

There’s only one reason that justifies your wholehearted, unfiltered hatred towards Han Jisung. Well, only one reason that seems justified in this lifetime.

The tattoo is simple; just fine black characters under your collarbone that are nicely hidden under high-cut shirts.

But the fact that it’s his name tattooed on you since birth remains.

“Let me crash here for the night.”

“No.”

“Let me crash here for the night, please.”

“My answer is still no.”

The exasperation is plastered on Jisung’s face as he tries to keep his temper in check. Truth be told, it’s damn satisfying seeing him wanting to rip your head off but refraining to do so. Perhaps you’re enjoying this more than you expected at one o’clock in the morning. For the past five minutes, Jisung has been asking you to let him stay over for the night. You’d save him out of his misery and help a neighbor out who locked himself out of his apartment at this hour — well, if he wasn’t Han Jisung.

By now, he’s growing more impatient with every further rejection. “Oh come on, all my friends live on the other side of town and you can’t expect me to ask the old grandma next door! At this rate, I’m gonna freeze to death overnight!”

“Then go break a window or something,” you deadpan, ignoring the dramatic hand gestures he’s making to accentuate his words.

“The fuck? I’m not going to break into my own place.”

Not wanting to draw out the pointless conversation any longer, you’re about to slam the door shut when he blocks your action with his foot. “C’mon, just this one night. Please.”

He’s not budging anytime soon. His bullheadedness reminds you of Seungmin, who always tries to get Hyunjin wasted whenever you attend those Greek frat parties. Seungmin, who always succeeds in getting Hyunjin wasted, followed by Hyunjin hugging a bucket for the next few hours as he tries to get over the hangover. With a defeated sigh, you gesture Jisung to come inside and don’t wait for him until he’s taken his shoes off at the entryway.

“Look, I know you don’t like me—“

“Well, ‘don’t like’ is putting it very lightly—” you scoff once he’s caught up to you in the living room. It’s not exactly spacious; the couch takes up most of the room and college assignments are spread all over the minuscule coffee table.

“You could at least treat me like a decent human being.”

That statement is enough to get your ears flaming. You whip your head in his direction, voice getting louder. “How can I when your existence is making my life worse than it already is! And I mean it literally! Just seeing your name whenever I look at myself through the mirror sickens me!”

“Stop acting like you’re the only victim here.” Jisung snaps back in the same manner. If there was a little bit of etiquette in the first place, it has all vanished now. “I’m not having it easier when all I hear from you is the dozen ways you want Changbin to fuck you dumb!”

You freeze.

“Cat got your tongue? It’s already bad enough that you have those kinds of thoughts about my best friend every single day.”

“But I thought— y-you had the proximity link?!” This has to be a joke. A very bad one at that. His proximity link is the very sole reason why you lived next to him. His soulmate link is the only reason why you’ve been stuck together like glue since you could walk.

Jisung taps his foot impatiently, running his hand through his hair. “That’s what I thought too until I started hearing things that nobody said around me. First, it was just a few thoughts every other day, but now you’re like an annoying radio that I can’t switch off.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then? I would’ve—“

“Stopped fantasizing about Changbin’s dick? And then you would’ve jumped to the next person. I don’t care if you like him or not, it’s none of my business. Changbin’s hot, anyone with eyes can tell. Besides, it’s not like you have a chance anyway…”

You feel your blood boiling at his underlying message and cross your arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jisung doesn’t bat an eyelash and says in a mocking tone as if stating the obvious. “No doubt that Changbin will make you feel good. But could you return the favor?”

That’s a low blow. Even for Jisung, that’s a low blow.

“I get that you’ve got a dirty mind. But those are just fantasies. Could you really execute them just the way you had in your head? You don’t even have experience in the first place.”

“If I sucked you off right now, you wouldn’t even be able to speak properly!” God knows what went over you when you countered. At this point, rage has taken over your brain and you don’t even realize what you just said right away. Not that it matters anyway; all you see is red.

Jisung just raises a brow, clearly unimpressed by your outburst. “Prove it,” he challenges casually and then flops himself onto the couch, legs spread wide. It’s an open invitation. “Go ahead, make me see reason with your oh so mind-blowing skills.”

The only thing you’re able to do physically is gape at him. He is joking, right? As if he actually means it—

“I knew it. Shameless in your head but too flustered to say it out loud, let alone following up with your bold statements.”

That seals the deal. You’re fuelled by anger and the desire to prove him wrong as you drop on your knees and are on eye level with his crotch. However, your spirit dissolves the longer you silently stare and realize that you have no fucking clue on what to do. Jisung is painfully aware of that too.

“I’m more terrified than turned on seeing your angry face.” He lets out an exasperated sigh before he pulls you up and directs you to sit on his lap. “Obviously it’s not working when neither of us is in the mood. You gotta get in the mood first,” he mutters, hands settling on your hips.

The look in his eyes is more composed now, but you can tell he’s being observant. As if you have clues written all over your face, he keeps you under his stern gaze. Then his eyes droop lower to your lips and he slowly leans forward.

Not even a second later, you firmly plant your hands on his shoulder and push him back. “No lips.”

If Jisung is judgemental about your sudden stunt, he doesn’t comment on it. “Anything else, your royal majesty?”

You’re too tired to react to his mockery and roll your eyes. “No marks.”

“I can work with that,” he mumbles more to himself rather to you. Then he leans forward again and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Surprised by his actions and new to the unfamiliar sensation, you tense up. Jisung seems to take notice of that too.

“Relax,” he orders, rubbing circles on your hips to help you loosen up.

Well, that’s easier said than done. It’s already bad enough that you’re gradually exposing yourself as the complete amateur you are, and out of all people who could’ve been the first to do any form of sexual advances on you, it just had to be Jisung. Perhaps you shouldn’t have rejected that one kid in high school who was the only one who ever had a crush on you. Even if that kid wasn’t your type and not a serious commitment anyway, maybe you would’ve at least some sort of experience with dick.

“A-ah—“ your breath hitches when he nips on the patch below your earlobe. He smiles against your skin as if he just made some scientific discovery and swipes his tongue on the same spot, eager to make you squirm. Not wanting to slip up anymore, you clamp your mouth shut with a hand.

“Let me hear you, baby. Just relax, I got you.” When the fuck did his voice start to sound lower and raspier? Where did ‘baby’ come from? All rationality and resistance leave your body when he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

The cologne of musk lingers strong on him, almost intoxicating even, and you can’t form a cohesive thought anymore. The only things you are painfully aware of are an arm forcing your chest flush against his and his hot breath all over your neck.

You’re so far gone that you fail to notice that you’ve started grinding on his lap. Jisung moans softly into your neck as he encourages you to move with his hands.

“On your knees, baby,” he whispers after a while. A rush of disappointment runs through your veins once he detaches his lips from you and slides you off his lap, but all of that is forgotten once you see the prominent bulge in his pants.

Right. There’s a reason why you ended up in this predicament in the first place.

Jisung urges you to touch him with a simple nudge. “C’mon, baby. Take it off.”

You don’t waste time discarding his sweatpants. Just when you’re about to tug his underwear off, you notice the wet patch on the fabric. A surge of mischief washes over you as you boldly cupped his hard-on over his boxers, causing an obscenely loud moan from him.

He flinches, definitely not expecting that brashness from you, and throws his head back. “S-stop teasing me already and take that goddamn thing off or God help me what I’m going to do if you push my buttons.”

That. That was a threat. That dealt much more damage to you than you like to admit.

As much as you want to watch him break and see if he’d make his threats come true, you decide against your feelings and hook your fingers under the waistband and tug the fabric down in one swift motion. A groan leaves Jisung as his cock, fully hard and leaking precum, is exposed to the cold air. He’s certainly above average; on the longer side probably, and you’re conflicted on whether to think fuck, I want him in my mouth right now or fuck, how on earth is that supposed to fit into my mouth?!

You don’t get far with your inner conflict when a hand grabs a fistful of your hair and slowly urges you closer. The next thing you know, something is tapping your lips and before you fully register it, the tip of Jisung’s cock lies heavy on your tongue.

You carefully look up and meet Jisung’s hooded eyes. His shirt has ridden up a bit and flashes just a little bit of his toned stomach. That’s just enough of an indicator to see that Jisung is holding himself back, in case his irregular breathing hasn’t been a dead giveaway.

Jisung opens his mouth, about to say something, when you give an experimental suck on his dick. “Do something— f-fuck, a little more, baby.”

That’s enough to build your confidence up. You slowly take in more of his dick, sucking carefully and making sure to cover your teeth. The rest that doesn’t fit in your mouth is barely covered with your hands, and you messily try to coordinate your hands, switching between rubbing the base of his dick to cupping his balls.

“Mmh, use more pressure,” Jisung whispers, not trusting the stability of his voice when you fondle with his balls. A groan leaves him when you suck harder on his cock and switch back to swirling your tongue around. For a total beginner, you are holding yourself up better than he expected. Fuck.

“Focus on the tip fir— hhh- aa-ah...” His brain blacks out for a moment when you swirl your tongue around his tip and dare an experimental hum, the vibrations going straight down to his dick. The grip on your hair loosens, but it’s still firm enough to experience a sharp tug. “You’re doing good baby. So good.”

The combination of his sounds, the decent taste of precum on your tongue and the way his adam’s apple bops is enough to send you into sensory overload. You notice the way Jisung tenses his thighs, as to keep them still. You’re about to pull out completely to prevent your drool from getting on your face. However, before you get the chance to complain, he forces his length back on you that it grazes the back of your throat, nearly making you choke.

“Fuck, I— I’m gonna— s-soon—“ he hisses and you take it as a sign to speed up. At this point, your jaw hurts and a mixture of drool and precum drips down your chin. It’s borderline disgusting if you think about it, but the delectable sounds leaving Jisung compensates for it.

He sharply tugs on your hair, ordering you to pull off, but you slap his hand away. “I’m going to spill in your mouth if you don’t pull off right now—“ Jisung chokes on his words when you interrupt him with a hum as if to say so what? It doesn’t help that you’re looking up at him with teary eyes and a lot of conviction, even though you’re visibly struggling to keep half of his dick in your mouth.

When he cums, it’s accompanied but drawn out moans, and you forcing yourself to swallow the horrible texture. It’s not horrible per se, but you’d gladly refuse to swallow a second time if you were given the choice.

Jisung looks down at you with flushed cheeks and is about to wipe off the drool or cum or whatever liquid is staining your bottom lip, but you quickly block his hand. “I’ll clean up by myself.”

For a minuscule second, he looks defeated; he looks borderline disappointed, but before you can pinpoint his feelings for sure, his expression changes. “But what about you?” he asks, eyes raking down your body and stopping at the waistband of your pants.

“I’ll deal with it on my own.” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. All of sudden, you find it hard to breathe in the room as the realization settles into your brain. You just sucked off Jisung. Jisung, out of all fucking people.

“You sure?” Your eyes flit to him who looks like he’s been observing you the entire time. His breathing has calmed down, his lips look a little bit plumper than before and his hair sticks out in all different directions. Looking at his current state makes you feel sick, and your undying hatred for him starts growing again. It’s your fault that he looks so fucked out and—

Why the fuck did you even do that?

“Yes. Now stop asking before I change my mind and kick you out.”

Before he can have the last word, you turn on your heels and rush into your bedroom, ignoring the fact that your underwear is practically drenched.

You wake up to the smell of pancakes emerging from the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making breakfast?” Jisung throws you a questioning look and then plates the last batch of pancakes from the pan. “It’s the least I can do after you were friendly enough to let me crash on the couch.”

Your eyes wander to the countertop to the two plates stacked with pancakes. Jisung finishes up the second plate and hands it out to you.

You stare dumbly at the plate. It’s too early for your brain to mouth filter to work, so the first thing you spit out is, “How do I know you didn’t poison it?”

“Are you fucking serious—“ Jisung squeezes his eyes shut, mutters something inaudible under his breath before he puts on the fakest smile he can muster. “I can take a bite if you really insist.”

“Give me that plate.” You point to the other plate on the counter. Presentation-wise, it looks the same as the one Jisung is offering you, minus the visible steam.

“There. Wanna switch again or can I finally eat?” he scoffs when you walk past him to get cutlery and sit at the dining table; it’s essentially a round wooden table where one of the legs is about to break. Two plates and a pitcher at most take up the entire surface. You really should consider buying a new table, but you have better things to spend on rather than that.

From your peripheral vision, you see Jisung rolling his eyes. Perhaps you were making an entire unnecessary circus, critically cutting through the pancake and inspecting each and every side before stuffing it in your mouth. But again, in your defense, it’s too early in the morning to show basic etiquette towards him out of all people.

You have to admit that visually, the pancakes look good. What you didn’t expect were the pancakes to taste just how they look. It looks like you couldn’t contain your surprise in you, judging by the amused smirk that finds its way onto Jisung’s face as he claims the chair across from you.

“As if you could actually cook,” you splutter because there’s no fucking way you are giving him that satisfaction of the day.

However, it seems to bemuse him even more. “You literally eat this every day and know the recipe by heart. With the excessive number of times you recite the ingredients a day, obviously, something got stuck in my brain,” he explains while cutting through his own portion.

The rest of breakfast is spent in silence. You both finish at the same time and while you’re washing the dishes, he’s stayed put in the chair, mindlessly checking something on his phone.

“You didn’t have to cook, you know. You could’ve just left.” you start. It’s already awkward enough that he’s still here. Bloody hell, you should’ve just waited with the plates and ushered him out of your place instead of just getting away as fast as possible from the table. Now that you think about it, this was probably the only time you two were somewhat amicable at such proximity. (Even if you didn’t talk at all. Still, it’s progress.)

He drops his phone on the table with a soft ‘bang’. “It’s the least I could do. Besides, I was starving too.”

“In other words, you’re taking advantage of my fridge?”

“Exactly.”

Just as you’re drying your hands, he’s about to leave. “I’ll get going, lecture’s starting in a few. And, uh, thanks for letting me stay here.”

You just shoot him a weird look. “You already thanked me once. How often do you wanna repeat yourself?”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Fine, next time I’ll just leave without a word then.”

It’s when he’s finally out of the door that his last words sink in.

“Yo, I have pics of sweaty Changbin in a jersey. How much do you wanna pay for those gems?”

You nearly choke on air. “What the fuck?” Really, that’s the only appropriate reaction.

“Hyunjin, this needs more context.” Felix looks like he’s seriously second-guessing his taste in men before shaking it off with a sigh and elaborates. “He’s been trying to find out some scoop about Chan for the campus blog and caught him in his angry boxer mode and Changbin was also there assisting him. Hey, did you know that Chan doesn’t tape his hands before punching the bag? Fuck, that’s so intimidating but so hot at the same time—“

“Yah! I’m your boyfriend! How can you say that in front of me?!”

Changbin. Changbin in a jersey. Changbin in a jersey and drenched in sweat. And Hyunjin seriously has HQ pictures of that Changbin.

It really, absolutely shouldn’t have been the first thing that crossed your mind, but the idea of that Changbin — bonus if he still has anger pent up in him — barging into your place and instantly throwing you on the bed—

“I’m not a perverted creep who’s gonna buy pictures of him that he doesn’t even know exist. Besides, isn’t that a violation of his rights? He never consented to those pics. This is college, you’re only working for the campus blog, not fucking Dispatch.” you deadpan.

“So you don’t even want to take a sneak peek at a picture?”

“No.”

You barely stepped a foot into your apartment when Jisung storms out of his own place and stops in front of you. “You fucking liar.”

“Excuse me? What the— hmph!”

The next thing you know, Jisung forces his way into your hallway, slams the door shut and crowds you against it. His face is invading your personal space, eyes enraged and jaw locked. Even though his anger is far from justified as you haven’t glanced at him ever since he stayed over, a tiny part of you believes that you pissed him off for good. It's not the first time you witness him angry. However, it's the first time you witness him look as if someone murdered his family and was trying to get revenge.

“I thought you took care of it yourself!”

“Took care of what?”

“Did you already forget that I can read your mind?!”

You scrunch your nose, trying to connect the dots in his words. It doesn't take long for you to realize that there’s no point in trying. A frustrated groan leaves you. “Why are you getting so riled up? I just breathed and you stormed into my place!”

“‘Bullshit. You weren’t just breathing,” he snaps, and you flinch when his hand lands a few inches beside your face with a loud pang. “You were thinking of Changbin again! And I mean that in the thousand sex positions and locations you want him to bang you kind of thinking! And also—“

“Also what?”

“I know you’ve been pent up for days. Seriously, why don’t you just get off like every other sane human being?”

His brutal delivery leaves you flabbergasted. How the fuck does he know that? No. No. No. He doesn’t know. He can’t. Just because he can read your mind doesn’t mean that you didn’t pleasure yourself after giving him that blowjob. Jisung’s probably bluffing — he has to be bluffing.

“W-why should I answer you?” you stutter. Suddenly the walls look much more interesting. When was the last time you painted the walls? Maybe it’s time to switch things up—

“Are you really about to get all cocky with me? Give me a break.” Jisung chews on his bottom lip after little deliberation. “You wanna know why? Because one of my best friends is going through a hard time that can utterly destroy his entire future thanks to the fucking universe! If that isn’t stressful as it is, I also see and hear all kinds of things you want Changbin to do to you. And your fantasies are also affecting me.”

You stare at him as if he sprouted eight new legs. “So you’ve also been…?”

“Sexually frustrated? Fuck yes. And it’s all your fault. So take responsibility and do something against it before I do.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“So what if I am?”

A cold shiver runs down your spine once you meet his stone-cold gaze. Frustration is displayed all over his features, from his labored breaths to the raised brow. He’s not playing mind games this time, he’s actually frustrated.

There are a billion red flags, a billion blinking signs saying NO DON’T YOU EVEN THINK OF DOING THIS! DON’T BE A FUCKING IDIOT in your mind. There are so many countless reasons why you should listen to your head, but the way Jisung is lusting after you is terrifyingly attractive.

You don’t trust your voice to respond verbally. Instead, you look down at your trembling hand and tug at the hem of his shirt. It’s just then when you also realize that your thighs are clenched. Fuck.

Jisung takes the hint. In the blink of an eye, he’s yanking you to your room, kicks the door shut with a loud ‘thud’, and manhandles you on the bed. You’re too stunned to react, and gulp when he hovers over you and strips off his jacket, leaving him in a white shirt that doesn’t hide his toned arms.

“Use the color system, alright? Green when everything is alright, yellow when you want me to slow down, and red when you want me to stop for good?” he asks.

“I know what the color system is,” you mutter, tearing your eyes away from him.

“That’s not an answer to my question.” he presses.

“Fine, color system it is. There! Happy? Now get on with it—“

Jisung pins your wrists above your head vigorously. “You don’t call the shots here. I do.”

Your stomach swoops. You really should’ve listened to your brain. This Jisung isn’t comparable with the Jisung you sucked off a few days ago. That Jisung was cocky — he’s always cocky, what are you even saying — but he still gave you room to breathe. This Jisung is downright scary.

“Good thing for you, I know exactly what you want me to do—” he starts sinisterly as his thigh settles firmly between your legs, pressing up against your clothed core. You suddenly regret wearing a skirt. “—and trust me baby, even if I couldn’t read your mind, I would do all those things because that’s what I plan on doing to you regardless.”

The look he gives you should be illegal. He shouldn’t be in the position to look down at you, as if he’s the king and has free reign over the consequences you are about to bear. Your head suddenly feels dizzy, and it’s way too hot in the room. It’s as if your bedroom has morphed into some vacuum as you’re desperately trying to breathe. Your system ceases to function once he presses his thigh even harder on your cunt, and all you manage to make is a pathetic whimper.

A menacing grin makes its way to his face. He’s clearly thriving on this ego-boost and continues to grind his thigh on you until your hips start to sway along. It seems like you found your voice again once he leans down and nibbles on your neck. Your moans are barely audible at first, but they slowly turn into drawn out mewls and labored breaths.

Your eyes snap open when he suddenly retreats his thigh and holds your hip in a vice grip, stopping you from moving. “W-what the fuck? Why did you stop?”

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Huh?” You squint at him. “But you can read my mind!”

“I want you to say it out loud.”

There’s no way in the universe that you’ll do that. You’ll gladly wipe off that shit-eating grin out of his face whether he likes it or not, but with his hold on your wrists, that is deemed impossible.

You should say something out loud though. Yellow. That would save you from the humiliation. You could regain at least an ounce of control, not feel so pathetic anymore. It’s a simple word, just two syllables, six letters. The tables can be turned to your advantage. It’s easy.

You don’t.

“You’re embarrassed, aren’t you? You can’t say all those filthy thoughts in your head out loud because you’re ashamed, huh? Not when you love feeling so powerless, subject to anything I do to you. Face it baby, just admit that you’re a needy little bitch who wants to get off on my fingers so bad, and I’ll give you what you want,” Jisung growls in between hot, wet kisses he leaves on your neck.

“I—“ you whimper after some difficulties, “I’m your needy little bitch w-who wants to get off on your fingers.”

Jisung’s head pipes up, his face just hovering a couple of inches away from yours. With that little distance between you, you know it’s not a trick of the light and that his eyes are blown up with hunger, hunger, and more hunger. "Not just any bitch, but mine? Do you like it when I call you mine?"

You nod. From there on, it’s a chain reaction.

He wastes no time slipping his fingers past your panties, mindlessly trailing along your folds. You throw your head back in pleasure, bucking your hips into his touch. A cry leaves you the moment he slips a finger inside you, his thumb simultaneously flicking your clit. It’s sensory overload, rendering your rationality to a standstill.

Your utter downfall is marked once Jisung adds a second finger, never slowing down. He groans at the way you clench around him like a maniac, and the sounds he makes send jolts all over your body. You’re writhing under his grasp at this point, overstimulated by everything yet at the same time, you feel your arousal slowly fading.

“Does my baby feel good? Are you close?” Jisung asks, nipping on your earlobe.

“I don’t know,” you whisper.

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?”

The pit in your stomach grows. You’ve never experienced claustrophobia, but right now, it’s like everything’s suffocating you. “A-as in I don’t fucking know!” you exclaim shakily.

Jisung stops his movements. The weight on your wrists is lifted, and he looks at you, face unreadable. “(y/n), color. What’s your color?”

“Green. It’s just...” your trail off, avoiding his eyes.

“Just...?”

“I’ve never come before,” you confess in defeat. You really can’t believe that Jisung out of all people is the one to make the call of judgment. “I mean it! I’ve tried getting myself off but I never managed to... so cut me some fucking slack because I’m trying my best here and am still new to everything!”

Jisung stays silent. He stares at you in… confusion? disbelief? You really have no clue how to read his expression. Something negative for sure, though. He’s Satan’s spawn, for fuck’s sake. He’s probably thinking twice about going down on you, thinking about the gravity of a mistake he’s dealing with this time. He just has no clue how to articulate his irritation—

“You’re so cute, fucking hell,” he whispers.

You do a double-take. What? What did he say?

A small chuckle escapes his lips. As if he doesn’t mind. Wait. He doesn’t mind. “I’ll take good care of you. Trust me on this,” he says.

“That’s a little late coming from you, your fingers are literally up my vagi— h-ha-aah—“

“Just shut up and let me do the work.” Jisung rolls his eyes as he works you up again, fingers moving at a slower pace this time. Within minutes, he’s reduced you into a panting, stuttering mess. “You look so tiny and helpless underneath me. How adorable,” he coos, to which you just whine.

“Yeah? You like it when I call you tiny? Like it when your tight cunt already feels stuffed with just two fingers? Maybe we should stretch it to a third one, think you can handle that?” he presses on. That’s when he rams his fingers into a particular spot, making you arch your back. A knowing smile makes its way onto his lips. “Found it.”

“N-no, fuck— t-too much—” you babble, but he continues to abuse your sweet spot without remorse.

An unfamiliar pressure builds up in your abdomen, threatening to burst. Your whines grow louder, breaths shallower. You squeeze your eyes shut as you thrust your hips into his hand, desperate for more friction. “Jisung, I think I’m gonna—”

“Oh no, not like this,” he growls. “Keep your eyes open. I want you to look at me when you cum. So you’ll remember that it was me who made you cum for the first time. It’s me who’s making you feel good.”

That is easier said than done. You manage to open your eyes, though with a lot of difficulties. Scratch that, your eyes are barely open. Jisung is a blurry image, and you’re unable to register everything he says, the sound of his fingers squelching in your heat blaring in your ears.

You deem it fucking impossible to keep your eyes open when your orgasm hits you hard, body spasming from the sensation. But you keep on trying, keep forcing to set your eyes on him.

It’s all worth it though when the reward you get is a proud smile on his face, as well as streams of praises coming from his mouth.

It’s a continuous pattern that goes as follows:

1. You spend your days glued to your friends.

2. At least one of them (usually, it’s Seungmin) preaches how you should get your shit together and ask Changbin out.

3. Somehow, Changbin manages to leave a strong presence in your fantasies and you end up daydreaming about a scenario that stars him, you and a bed (if you’re feeling more daring, any other kind of surface or object he could pound you into.)

4. Jisung notices and forces the horniness out of your system.

5. You tell yourself that it’s the last time Jisung has such control over you.

And then the cycle repeats.

But here’s the thing: you find yourself doing no. 5 you with less conviction the more it happens. No. 5 is a formality at this point. You don’t know when you went the wrong path, but are you really in a position to complain? Jisung is good with you, he’s good with his fingers, even better with his mouth.

But then there’s this side of Jisung after he’s ruined you. He knows what you want to eat after you’re all cleaned up, knows what show you want to watch, knows if you want to just drop dead in bed or need someone to force you to finish your uni assignments. In short: Jisung is good. If you ever said that out loud and someone caught wind of it, they might assume that you liked him.

But Changbin. You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin—

You like Changbin, right?

“You’ve been looking at me as if I had the word CLOWN written over my forehead. Do I have something on my face or what?” you cross your arms and are met with your friends quickly averting their eyes from you.

Felix is the first one to break the silence. “Is that a new dress?”

“Not really. I recently found it when I cleared out my closet and decided to give it one more try. Why—“ you pause, and your expression turns grim once it dawns on you. “I look ridiculous in this, don’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“No!”

“You look like a clown.”

“Seungmin-Hyung, did you really just???”

If your crippling self-esteem hadn’t reached its all-time low before, then it definitely did now. “Geez, thanks,” you deadpan.

Jeongin is panicking, trying to provide some damage control as Felix snaps at Hyunjin and Seungmin. “Nobody cares about your two cents!”

“Well, but she asked for our opinion!”

“Nobody cares about your honest two cents!”

“Let’s just have lunch at the burger place and talk about this later, Hyung!”

You’re still dazed, chuckling dryly like those cartoon characters usually do when their soul leaves their body after someone dragged them. The entire situation is downright sad to witness. Is this a sign that your period is coming soon? That’s it! That probably explains why you’re acting so uncharacteristically sensitive today—

“The dress suits you, (y/n). You should wear it more often,” Changbin says.

“Hah?” you flinch and you’re sure your soul actually left your body when you turn to face Changbin smiling genuinely at you. Out of your periphery, you see Jisung and Chan behind him, but that’s not the point.

What? The? Fuck? Did he really just? Did Changbin just… compliment you?

You don’t realize how long you’ve dumbly stared at him until Jeongin nudges you. “Uhhhh, thanks!” you squeak out, cringing at how your voice just went up by an octave. You can feel Jeongin facepalming internally at your response, but you don’t blame him; you’d most likely do the same.

Changbin just smiles before he turns away to get to his next class, tugging Jisung and Chan with him.

Nevermind. Wearing this dress was the best decision you’ve made in your entire college career. The way you suddenly beam almost gives Felix whiplash — it’s obvious in the way he stares at you as if he ended up watching a comedy instead of the melodrama he was expecting. Hyunjin seems just as flabberghasted, Jeongin is still cringing from the secondhand embarrassment, and Seungmin just grins.

“Ah, so lover boy is the reason, I see.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Oh my god, just shut up, Seungmin.”

Jisung is eating you out with such fervor that has you sobbing and thrashing around. He’s merciless in every literal sense, keeping your hips planted on the couch with his hands to the point where veins are bulging out, and lapping up your juices with his tongue, continuing even though you already came. He only pulls away, lips glistening in your release, once you tug on his hair despite his orders to not do that.

“Already spent now? But baby, we just started.” he pouts. “Or is it because it’s me? Would you defy if Changbin was the one eating you out?”

You stare at him with blown out eyes. Why the fuck is he bringing up Changbin now? The words hang heavy in your throat and are threatening to burst, but the death stare he delivers stops you from doing so.

Something’s not right.

“Don’t tell me... you’re wet again because I just mentioned Changbin. Changbin this, Changbin that, huh? It’s always only Changbin, Changbin, Changbin. And I thought I was doing you good all along,” he rages, making you flinch. He can be terrifying when he wants to be, but this time, he seems completely out of it. “You know what? I’m fucking done with holding back. You’re mine, got it?”

With that, he dives back into your cunt, sucking harshly on your clit as he slides a finger in you. You try to pry him off, but his weight is restraining you to the sofa.

“Jisung, it hurts— ouch—“ Panic starts to rise in you when he finally detaches himself from your nub, but instead, moves down to your thighs and starts sucking on the skin with a force much harder than you’re used from him. “What are you doing? S-stop—!”

“You’re mine, you’re supposed to be mine. I am literally written on your skin. So why can’t you just wish to be with me? Do I have to mark you up so that you’ll finally get it?”

It hurts. It hurts. Once you feel teeth on your skin, you burst into tears. “Red, Jisung, red!”

As if it was the spell to break the cast, Jisung finally snaps out of it. His features break once his eyes meet yours. Regret sticks onto him like a second skin, and he slightly moves his hand in an attempt to reach out to you. Your muscles react faster though, and you instinctively pull your legs towards yourself and shy away from him. The way his face drops by another layer of remorse tugs at your heartstrings, but the impending fear overpowers everything else you’re feeling.

“What’s going on? What went over you?” you ask.

Jisung’s breath is shaky. He feverishly opens his mouth several times, but no sound is coming out. He’s struggling to find the right words, maybe trying to find a somewhat reasonable justification for his behavior. In the end, he lets out a defeated sigh. “I can’t do this anymore without having feelings—” his voice is weak and vulnerable and you’ve never witnessed him break down like this before, “—I like you. I like you the way you like Changbin. I just...”

Silence.

“Leave,” you whisper, but in this silence, your voice rings out loud and clear. This is… too much weight for your heart to carry.

Jisung complies. He grabs his belongings from the floor, slips on his shirt, and leaves with his head hung low. His footsteps grow more and more distant, but then he stops.

“Are you really in love with Changbin?” His voice cracks.

You don’t muster up the courage to face him. “Just read my mind.”

It’s silent again. Too overwhelming. You’re waiting for yet another outburst of him, waiting for his “I want you to say it out loud”, because that’s how the conversation always goes.

The last thing you hear is the front door falling in its lock with a soft click.

You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin you like—

You like him, right?

Things have changed.

You and Jisung haven’t crossed paths ever since, not even passed each other by in the hallways. It’s weird since you’ve grown used to seeing him every day outside of your apartment complex. You’ve never really acknowledged each other’s presence with a wave or something in the sorts; it was just a second where your eyes met, and then your days went on.

That being said, you run into Changbin quite frequently. If you ever exchanged words, it’s nothing more than friendly small talk and the one or other compliment about his music. Talking to Changbin is nice; he makes you smile.

You know a little bit more about Changbin now, like his favorite ice cream flavor or the fact that he has a pokemon plushie named Gyu. It’s cute, and you chuckle when you think about how you’d pay good money for that information a few weeks ago.

Changbin is nice, and there’s nothing more to the story.

The chaotic quartett you call your friends however, doesn’t seem to buy it. They are loud and nosey and have eyes, so it was set in stone that they’d tease you about it sooner or later. It’s all fun and games, and you played along with it at first, because that’s how you guys are. But as time went on, when the banter became so repetitive and blown out of proportion to the point where they have made clowning you about your small interactions with Changbin the pinnacle of their entertainment, you’ve begun to be fed up by it.

“Will you finally stop bringing him up in an indecent manner every single lunch break? Or even better, stop bringing him up altogether?” You snap, which shocks everyone at the table because you never snap.

Nobody has time to react as you quickly stomp away to grab some fresh air. You mutter out every curse under the sun, not intending to let your anger take over you this much. You’ve only made it past the door when Felix catches up to you, placing a hand over your shoulder.

“(y/n), what’s the matter? Clearly, something’s bothering you. And I know it’s not because of just Seungmin.” Concern is woven in his smooth voice.

You have to admit, it was a smart and calculated move from your friends to send Felix your way. He’s always been the compassionate one out of your little friend group. Like a pillar, he’s the one who keeps you all grounded (and he’s the one to drive your asses back home after the wild Alpha Beta Gamma frat parties).

“I don’t like Changbin that way, I realized. So it’d be very much appreciated if you asses didn’t allude to that every time,” you huff.

Felix sends you an understanding smile. “We can work that out. You know that Hyunjin and Seungmin in particular can be insensitive and sometimes don’t realize they’ve taken things too far..”

“Fine, but that’s not the main thing that’s eating me up alive, Felix.” you sigh. The words seem to flow out of your mouth like a waterfall. “I’ve realized I’ve never really liked Changbin. Okay, fine, he was just a crush I had but I don’t like him.”

He nods slowly, his brain processing your ramble. “So you like someone else.”

“Yes. And I don’t know how to fix it because we got into a huge fight.”

“Talk to them. That’s the only thing left to do.” His response is immediate, and he says it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Every relationship has its ups and downs, and if you want to be committed, you have to fight for it. If you were made for one another, you’ll make it.”

The last part makes you laugh internally. If only he knew.

“Let me guess, you expect me to barge into his place to sort things out,” you say.

Felix gives you the look of judgment. “I mean, you could also show some human decency and text him in advance so he’s also prepared. But that works fine too.”

Come to think of it, you’ve never been to Jisung’s apartment. That’s about to change when you knock on his door sometime in the evening, shortly after sunset.

Jisung’s face immediately drops once he opens the door. “What are you doing here?” His voice is soft, drenched in regret.

It’s not that his appearance has reached rock bottom. He still takes good care of himself; however, you pick up the dark circles under his eyes and his complexion seems a little paler. Not sickeningly pale, but in a sense that he hasn’t seen the light of day for a few consecutive days.

You shift your weight on one leg and fiddle with your fingers. “Can we talk?”

Jisung gulps. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbles after a moment of hesitation before inviting you in.

“I’ve thought a long time about this. Everything, really,” you start awkwardly as soon as you’re both standing stiffly in his living room. “I, um…”

You cringe inwardly as your voice trails off. Truth be told, you’ve rehearsed what you wanted to say many times a few hours ago. Even wrote down the entire speech. Then threw the draft away, only to compose a new one. And then again and again and again. After what felt like an eternity, you had polished your final speech and memorized it from top to bottom, even making sure that your flow sounded natural. But now that this is the real deal, your mind goes blank. Of course, of fucking course, your illiterate brain had to give up on you in the situation that mattered the most.

Jisung purses his lips. “Do you want something to drink first? No need to rush—”

“I don’t like Changbin!” you blurt out. Jisung stares at you in confusion. “I mean, I used to like Changbin — I still do, he’s a nice guy! Don’t get me wrong — but that’s all he is. He’s… nice. I like him, as a friendly guy. I had a crush on him, but now it’s just, uh, like. Platonic! Yeah, platonic.”

Despite him nodding slowly, you know that he is still lost. You would be too if you were on the receiving end of this painfully clumsy delivery.

You give yourself a mental slap as you take a deep breath. It can’t get any worse than this. Definitely impossible. You’ve already proven to him how bad your public speaking skills are. Might as well get over it with the bluntest words. “I miss you. And not because of the sexual things we did, but everything else. I miss you coming over, miss the movie night, and all that. I miss you, Jisung.”

He stares at you silently. Your eyes search his face for any sign of emotion, and for one too many times, Jisung is impossible to read. Okay, perhaps you did manage to tell him what you wanted to tell him even worse than whatever the fuck your initial attempt was.

But then his blank armor cracks. Little by little, his eyes soften, disbelief and remorse on display for you to see. Jisung is looking at you as if his world has fallen apart even more. He’s looking at you as if he’s clinging to the last threads of reason, trying to make sense of the situation. He’s looking at you with eyes that could hold stars behind them, stars that were supposed to burn out yet shine brighter than the universe.

“How can you say that? I hurt you. I made you cry! I was being a selfish asshole who put out his anger on you!” he exclaims, voice breaking towards the end. Pain clouds his red eyes, and he’s fighting to keep the tears at bay.

You slowly prod closer to him, testing the waters. He doesn’t react once, not even when you stand directly in front of him. Not even when you gently place your hands on a shoulder each. Not until you say, “It’s alright. I’m alright. No hard feelings.”

That’s his breaking point. Tears stream down his face, while quiet hiccups jump out of his throat. “How can you be so nice to me?” His sobs are muffled as he eases into your touch, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your waist, clinging onto you as if you’re his lifeline.

The answer is simple, you say to yourself, as you thread a hand in his hair. “We’re soulmates.”

The weight of the words hangs in the air, shattering the previous tension and all the worries in your heart. It’s liberating, finally being able to say it out loud without feeling like an abnormality for saying those words with happiness. You’re soulmates. You’re soulmates, and that’s okay.

Jisung’s sobs resound throughout the room, and so do his countless, tiny yeah, we are’s. You need a moment before you register the wetness on your face. It feels like an eternity standing in his warm embrace, even after there are no more tears left to cry.

“Can I kiss you?” Your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, but Jisung catches it. two fingers gently lift your chin so that you’re facing him. You almost melt when your eyes meet, his gaze filled with adoration that makes you want to burst at the seams.

“Yeah. I’d love that.” Jisung smiles.

It costs you your willpower to tear your eyes away from him before they flutter down to his lips. Despite his bottom lip being a little cracked, they look inviting and you wonder what they taste like. You expect him to nudge you, expect him to tell you to hurry up and do something because you’re pretty sure you’re staring at his lips for far too long.

He doesn’t. The grip on your chin is loose as if to tell you to take your time and go at your own pace. But the longer you wait, the more reluctance builds up. It’s a lot of power he’s given you; hell, it’s the first time he hands the reigns to you.

“Can you… uhm… I’ve never done this before, so yeah…” you look at him with a crooked smile.

The breathless chuckle that leaves him sounds like music to your ears. Jisung moves his hand to the back of your neck before closing the distance between you.

The kiss is short and sweet, but that alone suffices to make the butterflies in your stomach burst. The faint taste of coke lingers on him, and before you know it, you’re kissing again. Jisung’s lips are like an addiction, reeling you back in for another one. Somewhere along the way, the kisses change. Innocent presses of lips are long forgotten, replaced by teeth playfully tugging on your bottom lip, and Jisung kissing you deeper to the point where he steals all oxygen out of your lungs.

Your hands slide down his chest, tugging on his shirt. Startled by your bold actions, he pulls away, but you catch him back into another liplock that leaves the two of you breathless. All you can think of clearly is Jisung Jisung Jisung—

This time he forces himself away from you. Gasping for air, he places his forehead on yours. “If we go farther than this, then I don’t know if I can control myself.” His warning is barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t,” you whisper back.

That’s all the reassurance he needs before leading you to his bedroom, all the whilst latching onto your lips once more. He doesn’t let go of you until your back hits the soft mattress and he’s on top of you. Warm, slightly calloused hands trail from your cheeks to the hem of your shirt.

“Color?”

“Green,” you respond, smiling up at him. The sun has long vanished at the horizon, replaced by the dim moon and stars. Despite only a little light surging past the blinds into the room, you can see Jisung’s features crystal clear. The endearing smile is cast into the back of your mind, so is the delicacy in his touch, fingertips lightly grazing your skin as he sheds all your clothes off until you’re left in your underwear. After hearing your complaints, he discards his own clothes with an amused glint in his eyes.

Jisung takes his time pounding every single detail of your features into his memory. His hands roam all over your body, inciting goosebumps. You lean into his touch with a sigh and flit your gaze to him once he stops on a particular spot.

The look on his face is unreadable, but the hesitation in his voice speaks for itself. “Does this bug you?” he asks, uncertainty laced in it as he runs his finger over each character of his name that’s inked under your collarbone. You shake your head with a hum that turns into a soft moan once he leaves kisses on the spots his finger burned before, one for each letter. Eventually, his actions spiral out to sucking lovebites and rutting his bulge against your heat, enticing louder whines out of you. Your vision morphs into blurriness as you move your hips in sync with his, locking your arms around his neck to pull him even closer to you.

“(y/n), baby…” Jisung heaves for air, “Is it okay if I…?.”

“Please,” you mewl, “want you inside me.” Your desperation must’ve shone through your tone, as Jisung presses a loving kiss on your forehead before he reaches over to the nightstand for a condom, grinning like a lovesick idiot.

In books and movies, this is the part where the virgin would reach peak nervousness. Too many fears would be inhabiting their mind; the fear of pain, fear of not fulfilling their partner’s needs, fear of the entire situation, essentially. Whatever they depict in those books and movies, it doesn’t match up with the warmth and want pumping in your veins. Even after Jisung slipped your and his underwear off and slid the condom on his leaking cock, there’s no sign of fear bubbling in you. It’s rather the opposite; you nudge him to finally slide into you.

“So impatient,” he tuts playfully, and because he can’t help being a bit sadistic, he teases your dripping entrance with the tip of his cock. Tears begin to form in your eyes from the frustration of clenching around nothing. You feel like crying for good once he slowly pushes into you. The stretch feels unfamiliar and completely different than what you’re used to from his fingers, but it’s not unpleasant as you throw your head back. While you’re adjusting to his girth, Jisung observes your every expression, faltering whenever you scrunch your eyes shut.

“You still there?” he asks in hushed tones, caressing your cheek.

In awe about his concern, you nod. “I’m fine. It’s just… new. I’ve never done this, but I guess you already figured that out.” It takes you a moment to catch your breath, and then you give him the green light to continue.

The way Jisung has your hands firmly against the bed lacks the usual roughness; he isn’t gripping your wrists as if he’s about to cut off your blood circulation. This time, he has intertwined his fingers with yours as if he doesn’t ever want to let go of you. A firework of colors and stars is all you see as he thrusts into slow and deep and with all the passion he has to offer. His lips don’t leave space for a breather either; he kisses you with so much fervor that it swallows your heart up whole. At that instant, you realize that he’s claimed your heart and isn’t going to give that up any time soon. You don’t mind, because you know that you’ve committed the same crime.

It’s not long after until you feel the orgasm building up. Jisung brings one hand down to flick your clit, and just like that, you unravel beneath him. His own release follows suit, a muffled groan coming from his lips as he spills into the condom.

It’s quiet for a moment, no words spoken between you except for harsh breathing. Eventually, Jisung slides his softening dick out of you and disappears for a moment to clean up, returning with a damp towel for you to freshen up a little, as well as a glass of water.

“I think I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” you say after you gulped down the drink in one go, voice devoid of emotion. A laugh leaves Jisung. The way you deliver it is so casual as if he didn’t just have his dick in you minutes before. “Also, isn’t this the part where we should cuddle?”

“So bossy, your royal majesty.” He even takes a bow before he climbs back on the bed, pulling the covers over your bodies, and scooting up to you. He says something else, but you don’t register what exactly. All you care about is being wrapped in his warm embrace. The stench of sweat isn’t prominent on him anymore. Instead, it’s a huge cloud of Axe overpowering your senses. You would complain, but you’re too blissed out to bother.

Jisung must’ve noticed at a certain point that you’ve wandered to daydream paradise. “You’ve been quiet for a while. A penny for your thoughts.”

“But you can read my mind.”

“I want you to say it out loud.” His answer comes like a shot while his hand is brushing through your hair. “That, and your thoughts are too jumbled and my head is going to malfunction if I try to decode everything running in your head right now.”

The corners of your lips quirk upwards. “I’m just thinking about how we did everything in the wrong order. It’s just now that we kissed, before that I only sucked you off or something. We’re so fucked up.”

“If you word it that way, we definitely didn’t follow the book.” Jisung laughs in agreement. The vibrations from his chest causes you to bubble up in warmth.

“I don’t mind, though. That’s not the point. I’m happy.” You don’t have to look up to know that his eyes lit up. “Jisung, I’m happy that you’re mine.”

The hold around your waist tightens, and you feel a soft kiss being pressed on top of your head. “And I’m happy that you’re mine.”

In another lifetime, another universe, you probably wouldn’t have to go through these struggles. Society would normalize having someone that completes you. You wouldn’t go through countless stages of denial, countless stages of frustration, and countless stages of doubt.

In another lifetime, another universe, you potentially could’ve been on even worse terms. Just like in those cyberpunk movies, maybe you two would be enemies, one fighting alongside the government, the other assisting the villain who tries to overthrow the system. Star-crossed lovers, that’s what you two would be dubbed as.

In another lifetime, another univer—

No need to fantasize about what could be. The only lifetime that matters is this lifetime, this universe, your reality. In reality, people like you live in hiding. In reality, society is doubtful towards people with soulmates. In reality, people like you are destined for a tragedy. It’s taken you a long time to wrap it around your head.

That’s alright though. You’re alright. You’ll always be alright. The universe might have not played in your favor in this lifetime, but you still found each other. Perhaps, the universe will be more forgiving towards you in your next lifetime. Or the one after. Who knows? Whatever happens, at least you know you have one person you’re bound to meet wherever you are, whenever you are. One person who won’t ever let go of you. One person you won’t ever let go of.

“Yeah, I’m yours.”

#i'm never writing a oneshot again this is too stressful for my heart #stray kids smut #skz smut #han jisung smut #jisung smut #stray kids dark hours #dom!jisung #sub!reader #jijiri.txt #smut.mine #i winged the ending so pls go easy on me dlskjflkjsa

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nik-the-bik · 3 years ago

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Henriel Week Day 4: Fireside

“Perhaps It’s the Wine”

Summary: Jekyll is super attracted to Gabriel and Gabriel is oblivious

CW: Alcohol, sex mention, and enough sexual tension to take out a priest, but nothing that veers too NSFW.

Gotta thank @corvidayyy for the awesome prompt because I'm surprisingly proud of this one?

****

It was a bitterly windy evening in January, but the guests at Dr. Jekyll’s home were none the wiser. That night he hosted an extravagant dinner for many of his friends and colleagues, sparing no expense for the endless array of hors d’oeuvres, hearty meats, and assortment of rare wines and spirits. Most everyone left the dinner party warmed with a good meal and head fuzzy from drink. As the evening crawled on into the deepest hours of the night, all that remained in Dr. Jekyll’s parlor were himself and his two oldest friends, Dr. Lanyon and Mr. Utterson.

The three sat around a roaring fire reminiscing about their boyhood follies, having animated discussions as they corrected each other’s memories and laughed at long forgotten stories. Some of the last of the wine was passing from hand to hand as they all sank comfortably into its stupor.

Henry opened the final bottle he had bought for the occasion and poured himself and Utterson another glass as Lanyon finally rose from his chair and stretched.

“What’s the matter, Hastie? We’ve got just a bit more wine left! Surely you can stay for one more drink?” Henry asked.

“As tempting an offer as that is, I’ve had more than my fair share,” said Lanyon, straightening his appearance as he prepared to bid his goodbyes. “I feel that any more would be too dangerous—I’m not as avid a drinker as I used to be, and I’ll lose my head entirely.”

“Suit yourself,” Henry chuckled. He and Gabriel Utterson shook his hand goodnight as Lanyon made his way out the door, but not without a few more jabs at his friends. The three were left with laughter ringing in their ears as he left them, Henry and Gabriel relaxing into the plush armchairs closest to the warm fireplace.

The two sat in silence for some time, feeling quite at ease with each other. The situation was not new to either of them—many a dinner party had ended with these two being left alone at the end of the night, softly whispering philosophy with each other or simply dwelling on memories while nursing one last drink before turning in for the night. These quiet, intimate moments were perhaps the ones that Henry Jekyll looked forward to most out of these evenings. Jekyll put down his empty glass and turned himself to face his best friend.

Gabriel Utterson looked beautifully relaxed. He had sunken into his own armchair, one arm around the back while the other lazily twirled the little remaining wine in his glass. He had one leg up on the ottoman, and a rare, small smile of sheer contentment rested on his face, as his eyes hungrily watched the roaring fire before them, cheeks rosy from the wine. Jekyll was captivated – warmed both by the glow of the fire and the soft glow of hedonistic bliss radiating from this man before him, a man who had always lingered in the back of his mind as the example of moral perfection. Yes, Gabriel Utterson was beautiful, and finding him in this tiny moment of domestic pleasure, Jekyll felt that old secret yearning ignite within him once more.

His attraction to Utterson was not something Jekyll let himself dwell on frequently, but on instances where the pangs of desire struck, they often were crippling in their intensity. Tonight was no exception.

Henry suddenly regretted that he never learned to be a painter, wishing that he had the talent needed to capture Gabriel Utterson in this moment. When he felt brave enough to confess as much out loud, Utterson let out a soft chuckle, and his eyes twinkled as his smile became broader across his face.

“Whatever would you want to paint ME for?” he asked, turning his attention away from the fire for the first time, and looking directly into Jekyll’s eyes. Jekyll’s heart stopped for the briefest of moments before his insides turned to butter under Gabriel’s warm, affectionate gaze.

“Well,” Henry started, averting his own eyes as he felt the heat rise to his face. “I guess it’s because you look so…effortlessly happy. It certainly suits you.”

Gabriel laughed again, a cozy, inviting laugh. “Perhaps it’s all of the wine.”

Henry Jekyll couldn’t help but grin himself and bring his eyes back to Utterson’s. He reached for the wine bottle that they had started just before Lanyon had left them and decided to refill his glass. “It certainly is good wine,” he said, scooting his chair a bit closer to Utterson’s in order to top off his glass as well.

“It is good wine,” Utterson reaffirmed, clinking their glasses together and giving him a jovial wink. Henry Jekyll nearly choked on his own drink—why was everything that Gabriel did suddenly so captivating, so…seductive? He was grateful that Utterson had turned his attention back to the fire as he dried his lips with a handkerchief, heart beating loudly in his ears. He had been secretly attracted by Utterson plenty of times before, but somehow tonight, somehow this was more than Henry Jekyll was able to take, and perhaps most maddening of all was how the seduction seemed entirely unintentional on Gabriel’s part.

Yes, this entire evening had been near perfect. Great food, plenty of alcohol, engaging conversation—the pièce de resistance for the night would be great sex, and the primal part of Henry Jekyll was suddenly roaring for it.

Another sip of wine as he stared into the open flame of the fireplace, and suddenly his heart was braced and tongue was loosened just enough to do something a bit foolish.

“You should stay the night, Gabriel.”

“Mmm?” Gabriel lazily hummed, turning his attention back to Henry. God was he gorgeous.

“It’s so late, and the weather tonight…I would prefer to know you were here, safe.”

“Thank you, Harry, but I couldn’t possibly intrude for much longer,” Gabriel said, suddenly shifting in his seat.

Jekyll leaned forward, putting a hand on Gabriel’s knee to stop him. “But I insist! It’s no intrusion, none at all, not when I have so many empty beds—”

“I still have my carriage waiting…”

“Send them home for tonight, and tomorrow you can take mine.”

Gabriel was quiet, only just now noticing that Henry’s hand was still resting on his knee.

“Henry, it would be lovely, but I really shouldn’t stay much later, not when I have so much work waiting for me tomorrow,” he said, turning his face back to the fire.

Jekyll brought the last of his glass of wine to his lips and downed it in one swallow, setting the glass aside and leaning still closer to his companion.

“I am requesting the honor of being hospitable to my dearest friend,” Henry said, voice lilting. He decided to give him the most sultry stare that he could muster. “I do so enjoy the pleasure of your company.”

Gabriel turned his bright, beaming face back to Henry’s, a sweet, naïve giggle escaping him. “I have really enjoyed our visit too.”

Beautiful, innocent, oblivious Gabriel! He had no idea what Henry was getting at!

This wouldn’t do, this wouldn’t do at all. The primal monster inside Henry was hungry, demanding he be sated. He bit down on his lower lip as he pictured himself losing control and yanking Gabriel’s face forward into a deep, passionate kiss, arms encircling his waist, Gabriel’s fingers trailing along his spine... But no, as tempting as the fantasy was, that couldn’t happen either. Not yet.

“It would certainly break my heart to have to spend tonight alone,” Henry said, slowly moving the hand from Gabriel’s knee upwards, rubbing up and down his thigh. “If you were here, well, I could imagine we could make it worth both of our trouble…” he trailed off, delighting in the feeling of Gabriel’s warm, firm thigh in his hand, unconsciously tightening his grip, tongue just starting to touch his lip as he continued rubbing, letting his hand wander ever closer to--

Gabriel’s hand snatched Henry’s away. Henry looked up at Gabriel, who was blushing furiously.

Oh. Gabriel finally understood.

Oh God, he finally understood that Henry--!!

“We shouldn’t,” was all he said.

Henry Jekyll’s heart was racing faster than it ever had before, his face hot with shame, or was it just the fire? Why had he allowed himself to indulge in this secret want of his?

But the foolish, drunken part of Henry’s brain began to chime in. He said WE shouldn’t! Emphasis on the WE!

He didn’t seem offended or angry or ashamed, did he? Just…flustered? Could that possibly mean…?

Jekyll realized that Utterson was still holding his hand. Casting off any sense of caution, he drew Gabriel’s hand towards him, clasped in both of his, desperate to salvage the moment.

“Forgive me, Gabriel, I sometimes forget myself and…”

“It’s alright,” Gabriel said, unable to meet his eyes. His breathing seemed a bit more shallow than usual.

“I'm so sorry if I was inappropriate--I want you to know,” Henry continued, drawing Gabriel’s hand towards his own heart. “That you mean the world to me, and that I would hate to completely jeopardize—”

“It’s alright,” Gabriel insisted again. “You don’t need to apologize. You haven’t done anything.”

“I’m a weak man,” Henry said. “A slave to my most base, sensual urges, many of which, I must humbly confess, center around you.” With that, Henry drew Gabriel’s hand towards his lips, kissing it tenderly. When Gabriel didn’t pull away, Henry continued to plant kisses all over his hand, losing all sense of hesitation as he began to dip into the frenzy of his own desire.

Gabriel finally retracted his hand from Henry’s greedy lips, his whole face red. “Perhaps it’s just the wine making you feel this way,” Gabriel said, pulling his own chair a little further away from Jekyll. “I know I can definitely feel it enacting a certain…influence…”

Henry straightened himself up, running a hand through his hair as he tried to regain his composure after his brief slip into blind ecstasy. “Perhaps it is the wine,” he confessed. He grabbed the bottle, nearly empty now, and decided to pour one small, final glass for himself.

“It’s very, very good wine,” Gabriel said, offering his glass for the remainder. He had his hand half covering his face, still brilliantly pink, eyes sparkling slightly as they peered at him between his fingers.

Henry smiled as he raised a silent toast to his companion, a thrill in his heart as it foolishly began to harbor the belief that maybe, just maybe, this overwhelming desire wasn’t entirely his alone.

#henriel week 2021 #henriel #the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde #jekyll and hyde #doctor jekyll #henry jekyll #mr utterson #gabriel utterson #jekyll/utterson #jekyll and hyde fanfic #nikki tries to be a writer #this feels unbearably raunchy to my little ace self #like...hands??? on thighs??? i better call the church!#maybe it's the catholicism talking idk #also for anyone under the legal drinking age: sometimes wine makes you feel like being slutty stay safe out there

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deppsessed · 4 years ago

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Good luck charm #2

Part one here

Pairing: Johnny Depp x reader

It’s taken me a few weeks to write and be happy with this part to post. I hope that you all enjoy it and that it was worth the wait.

A few days later, I swear I can still smell the musky scent of Sauvage, and the taste of cigarettes on my lips. It’s hard to comprehend any of the last seventy-two hours being real, and going by Alex’s (who I’m sitting opposite having coffee with) reaction and raised eyebrows at me retelling the whole story, she’s having a hard time with it too. And in all honesty, I don’t blame her, it’s a lot to process.

“So, he invited you to the concert after party?”

I nod my head and take a sip of my coffee.

“Yep.”

“And he took you back to his hotel room? Where you-”

My lips curve into a smirk.

“He sure did.”

“And you’re aware of the fact this all sounds like a badly written fanfiction?”

I have to burst out laughing. There’s no denying it because it really, really does. I couldn’t have made it up if I tried.

“Did I tell you about the part where he had to get his security to smuggle me out of the building unnoticed the next morning?”

For me, that had been the most amusing part of the story. Having breakfast with him as if it was the most normal thing in the world. After a few more spent kisses and I’d decided that it was time for us to part ways, he’d sent in his security in to make sure I got out of the building safely.

“But the real question is… Has he called or texted you?”

He hadn’t yet. The band had played a show last night, and would be travelling again for their next tomorrow. I wasn’t hanging on and waiting for him to reach out to me either. It would be pretty easy for me to pick up the phone and call him too, but I refused to be that desperate.

I shake my head in reply to Alex’s question.

“No, but he gave me his number.”

“So, he’s waiting for you to call him then?”

Realistically, the chances were that it was a one night thing. I wouldn’t hear from him again and we’d go our separate ways. I’d rather be hit with the reality of the situation than holding out on hope for a phone call and being disappointed when it didn’t happen.

“I’m not going to. I don’t want him to think that I’m pining over him and completely desperate!”

“You’re insane… You know, if he wasn’t in the slightest bit interested then he wouldn’t have given you his number to begin with.”

That was a true enough point to make, but I’m still not deluded enough to give into the fantasy. I’m ready to give her a reply when my phone, that’s been sitting on the table in front of me, starts to frantically vibrate.

“Oh my god!”

Alex spots the name on the screen before I’m able to take a glance.

“He’s calling you! This really is a badly written fanfiction!”

I shrug my shoulders and continue to let the phone ring out. If it’s important, he’ll leave a voicemail.

“If you don’t answer that, I will!”

I scowl at her and shake my head, it’s hard to believe that I’m the one that’s being responsible about handling all of this. Before she’s able to reach for the phone, I’m swiping it off the table and standing up. “I’m at least taking it outside.” I grumble under my breath.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi-” The voice on the other end is raspy and familiar. I can just about see him fidgeting around like he does in interviews when he’s nervous. “It’s Johnny.”

Silence.

I’m confused. Does he want me to make the next move?

“Right… Your name rings a bell. There was this Johnny, that the other night I went to go and see his band and ended up spending the night in his hotel room-”

I don’t even mean for the words to sound as aggressive as they do .

“I feel like I owe you a little of an explanation -- I don’t usually do this. I, uh, I don’t usually invite girls - especially fans - back to my hotel room, and not call for three days.”

So it’s one of those phone calls, where he’s expecting to let me down gently and feels the need to explain everything that I already know to be the case.

“There’s no need to make a fool of yourself… I get it.”

“I don’t think that you do.”

What isn’t there to get?

“I get it. I mean this is probably the part where you offer me an obscene amount of money to not go to the press about it. You don’t need to worry--”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I freeze dead in my tracks, the thoughts of my overactive imagination and the words that I’m about to hit him with come to a close. Am I hearing things? Did he really just say…

“What?”

“It’s probably a really bad line. I don’t know if you heard me, I said….”

God, he’s insufferable.

“No, I heard you… I just don’t get it.”

He has his choice of any girl in the world. Models, actresses, and here he is calling me.

“The other night was special for me-”

It’s a cliché, and just about the worst thing that he could come out with, but I’ll let him continue.

“Listen, this probably sounds insane… but I want you here for the show tomorrow-”

He can’t be serious or that disconnected with reality. But then I remember the industry that he’s been working with the past thirty years, where he doesn’t have a nine to five job to cling onto, with a snap of his fingers he can pack his bags and travel somewhere else.

“I can fly you out, get you into the concert.”

That’s it. I can’t hold in my laughter, and I can just about see him pondering on the other end what’s so funny about his offer.

“I have a job-”

“So, call in sick?”

“It doesn’t work like that or that I don’t want to. It’s just, if I let you pay for the tickets and fly me out then that’s cheap, and I don’t want to be that person.”

There’s a long, drawn out sigh on the other end of the phone.

“Let me call you back.” I tell him, “I’ll see what I can come up with.”

---

A family emergency had been the most inventive thing that I’d been able to come up with, but it at least stopped any questions and pestering from work and friends about skipping town all of a sudden. The process of getting there had been planned to perfection, he was going to have one of the band’s security head on out to the airport and take me back to the concert venue - even if I had told him ten times how ridiculous it was and that I could get a cab, he had been insistent.

The journey from the airport to the venue has me pondering the insanity of it all. Both in him actually wanting me here, and me going as far as to make it happen.

The car pulls into the loading bay of the venue, where the tour buses and trucks with the band’s gear are on it. It’s when I get out of the car, that I notice him, like he’s just stepped off a photoshoot, puffing on a cigarette. I make the conscious decision to take him by surprise and sneak up on him.

“You know, those things are going to kill you one day-”

He startles, just about jumping out of his skin and choking on his cigarette in the process.

“Too bad we’re all going to die anyway, so we might as well indulge in the bad things while we’re alive and kicking.”

“That’s a little of a morbid stance to have.”

He laughs and shrugs his shoulders, unphased, “Calling me out on my smoking and then calling me morbid might be the best ‘hello’ I’ve ever gotten.”

He flicks the cigarette to the floor before stubbing it out with his shoe. He stands there with outstretched arms, ready to welcome me, but in blind panic I go for a handshake rather than a hug.

“Hi.”

His eyes widen, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I can almost see his thought process of just how he’s going to redeem himself and move on from the award pause.

“Hi,” There’s a long pause. “Was your flight okay? You got here safe?”

Thankfully, the flight had only been a couple of hours long - but that was more than enough time for me to spend on a plane. There was something about being in a constricted space, thousands of feet up in the air that made me nervous. Plus, without fail, I always felt disgusting afterwards.

“Guy beside me was snoring and drooling the whole time, I felt incriminated.”

“Should’ve taken my offer to fly you out first class.” I snort and roll my eyes at him. We’d already been over this, I’d made myself clear, I wasn’t going to be his groupie.

“Actually, without being rude, is there a place I can go and shower first? Being frisked at security and sitting on a plane kind of makes me feel gross.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement, I can almost see the cheeky comment that he’s threatening to make on the tip of his tongue, but something stops him. “Tour bus is free at the moment. I can give you the exclusive tour, too.”

Showering on a tour bus. Great. Exactly what I had in mind.

“Ladies first,” He gestures with his hand for me to move in front of him. It doesn’t take a scientist to work out that the giant black RV with the band logo across it is where we’re headed..

Much to my surprise, going inside, it’s more like a luxury hotel room on wheels. It feels a better standard than my apartment back home.

“This part is the kitchen…. We don’t use it much, aside from the mini bar.”

It doesn’t even qualify to be called a kitchen. It’s a tiny little counter space with a microwave, a coffee machine, and a mini fridge.

“And this is where we sit and relax, talk, play guitar...” He points towards the plush leather sofas adjacent to each other. “The cool part here is that the wall slides back if you need more space.”

“Impressive.”

“These are the bunks where we bring back the groupies.”

I’m unsure whether they look claustrophobic, like I’ve heard many complaints about, or if they look quite cozy.

“There’s a proper bedroom through there too, but Alice and Joe usually fight it out for it. I don’t mind sleeping it rougher.” He explains with a shrug of his shoulders. “Bathroom is through the back. Take as much time as you need. I’ll stand guard for you.”

“Thank you.” I look up at him with a smile before brushing past to open the door on the back wall that extends out into the bathroom. Much to my surprise, the room isn’t all that smaller than the bathroom in my apartment back home. The shower, that I assumed was going to be a small, cramped space, is quite spacious. The only strange thing is stripping down and knowing who is standing guard by the door.

He’s in every way true to his word, too. As I turn the water off and grab a towel to wrap myself in, I can hear a disagreement going on outside between Johnny and Tommy about the bathroom being otherwise engaged.

“I’m telling you, dude, you’re just going to need to find somewhere else to go and pee… Bathroom is off limits!”

“But I can’t hold it in, man! I’m dying! You think I can use the kitchen sink?”

Johnny starts to laugh at him, “You can’t be serious!”

There’s a little more toilet talk back and forth and laughing still going on by the time I’m dressed and nudging the door open carefully.

“Um, hi, Tommy.” I greet nervously and fold my arms over my chest.

“Oh! Now I get it… You have a girl here!”

I can feel a blush rise to my cheeks just thinking about what is no doubt going through his mind. Thankfully, Johnny comes to the rescue.

“It’s not -- it isn’t that, Tommy.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” He gives a wink at the two of us. “I’ll leave you to it, J-man!” And just like that, Tommy is off the bus.

“I’m sorry about him.” Johnny sighs, “He says what he thinks, there’s no stopping him.”

“It’s fine,” I brush off, acting as if I’m unbothered. But in reality, that one comment has gotten to me. I can’t help but have the niggling thought in the back of my mind, if that’s the way that Tommy is going to react, then what is the rest of the band going to be like?

---

The concert was amazing, even better than what it had been a few nights ago. I’d watched the show from the side of the stage, and could safely say that this time, Johnny had been looking and smiling at me.

I hadn’t wanted to face the confrontations of the band after the show, so after the encore, I had decided to hide away in Johnny’s dressing room to look at my phone for a moment of peace and quiet. If I was to exclude the fact that it was Johnny Depp’s dressing room that I was sitting in, it would have felt like the first normal moment of an otherwise bizarre day.

The door flying open makes me look up from the screen, to see Johnny standing there, still hot and sweaty from being under the lights.

“Everything okay?” He asks with a concerned expression, “You weren’t there when I came off stage. I was a little worried that I’d scared you off.”

I’m hardly going to tell him that I’m scared of running into the band when he’s the one that’s brought me out here to be with him. “I just didn’t want to get in the way, I thought you guys would be in a race to hit the showers.” I lie coolly. It seems to be good enough, since he goes to change the subject.

“What did you think?” He asks, a grin firmly in place on his lips. “Could you see and hear alright? The speakers weren’t too loud?”

I grin and nod my head eagerly. “You sounded amazing! Heroes was phenomenal...” I probably sound like I’m trying to impress him, but it’s my favourite song that the band do.

“Ah, you see,” He pauses to take a drink from his water bottle. “I think I had a little bit of extra good luck, with being cheered on the side front.”

I can feel that warm feeling of heat going up to my cheeks, and certainly not for the first time today. It makes me feel so powerless and awkward to just stand and say nothing.

“Um,” He scratches the back of his head, “You must be hungry?”

Starving, actually. I hadn’t had anything to eat since getting here and been too shy to pluck up the courage to ask about food since getting here. I’d accepted my fate and growling stomach a good few hours ago. But regardless, I downplay it, “A little, I guess…”

“Do you want to go and grab something to eat? I need to get showered and changed first…

I’m not certain what prospect makes me more nervous. Dinner with him. Or dinner uncomfortably sitting around all of the Hollywood Vampires eating. Both make my stomach flip. Especially since he isn’t going to specify.

#johnny depp imagine #johnny depp x reader #johnny depp fanfic

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tracer85s · 4 years ago

Text

MDZS fics i treasure (3)

parts 1, 2

Bet Your Heart by Vamillepudding

[general, lan wangji/wei wuxian, 14k, completed]

wwx decides to seduce lxc during his stay in gusu. spoiler alert, he seduces the wrong brother. this one definitely made it into my favourite humour fics, it’s lighthearted with the usual mutual pining and some hurt/comfort with an ALMOST bed sharing (you’ll see what i mean). the line that got me cackling over this was “i’ve taken a vow of abstinence”, ugh this fic is just so cute

cloudy autumn heaps the sky by anatheme

[teen and up, lan wangji/wei wuxian, 23k, completed]

DRAGON LWJ AND FOX WWX. GEGE WWX. SCREAMS. oh my god i just read this today and i am in love. this one veers towards fantasy, but the world building isn’t as different as the one in mdzs, there’s just some little additions and they’re well integrated. their first meeting is on the cloud recesses rooftop and they still have a sword fight i’m crying. ugh just strangers to friends to lovers gege wwx and didi lwj, with wwx spoiling lwj, lots of bed sharing and hints of arranged marriage? this baby’s got it all. GO READ.

Covered in Bees by ScarlettStorm

[teen and up, lan wangji/wei wuxian, 8k, completed]

modern beekeeping wangxian au. yes you read that right. bees. THIS IS SO ADORABLE AND FLUFFY, i love meet-cute fics so much and this one’s a fresh take on it. it’s just wwx being cute with all his questions about the bees and lwj indulging him. lots of flirting with bee puns and facts, i really enjoyed this !!

How a Pediatrician Likes His Eggs by yeolinski

[mature, lan wangji/wei wuxian, 7k, completed]

modern wangxian and their hospital shenanigans. i absolutely adore this, it’s so fluffy and the meet-ugly is one of a kind: pediatrician lwj keeps parking his car in head of surgical team wwx’s spot for three weeks and wwx is over it and keys lwj’s car. my favourite part is lwj keeping wwx’s a** p****** (READ THE FIC TO FIGURE OUT THE ASTERISKS)

Lynchpin by @shanastoryteller

[not rated, lan wangji/wei wuxian, 103k, completed]

reader, i am going to marry this fic. this is definitely my favourite time travel fix it fic. IT IS AMAZING. this is written in jiang cheng’s pov and i find that it addresses a lot of our what-ifs: “what if jc knew wwx gave him his core?”, “what if jc and yanli were more assertive towards protecting wwx during the sunshot campaign?”, “what if wangxian realized their feelings earlier?” this fic is an honest to god GEM, it’s just jiang cheng fixing everything through the power of brotherly love and i am sobbing because guys, the three of them really did stay together. just do yourself a favour and read it, also, nie mingjue is everyone’s da-ge confirmed

Children of the River by Achromos

[mature, lan xichen/jiang wanyin, 83k, completed]

xicheng is one of my favourite side ships and this fic is such a slow burn, i highly recommend it ! xichen emerges from seclusion and finds out yunmeng jiang is no longer one of the four greatest sects so xichen decides to help jiang cheng to distract himself from his grief. the found family feels is so good in this one and i find that there’s not enough lan xichen healing fics so i was happy to discover this one

It’s easier to let me go (let me hold you) by Iamthedarkoverlord

[mature, lan xichen/jiang wanyin, lan wangji/wei wuxian, 24k, complete]

this one is so, so heavy. like make you cry heavy and also lots of hurt/comfort. this fic is jiang cheng focused and deals with suicidal thoughts, there is a *suicide attempt* so please be careful reading this. my thoughts? jiang cheng needs to be wrapped in blankets and hugged very, very tightly. the ending is also very hopeful but i guarantee that the other chapters will make you sob

no certainty of doors between us by betts

[teen and up, lan wangji/wei wuxian, 6k, completed]

wangxian are roommates, lwj thinks he despises wwx, keyword: thinks (he’s in love with him but we already know that). i’m such a sucker for roommates fic i will devour any fic with this trope oh and add in some clothes sharing, bed sharing, one-sided enemies to lovers (from lwj’s pov), and lots of hugging... well, i’m sold. also that one scene where lwj’s trying to ask wwx what’s wrong oh my god i love it so much i can relate so hard and when lwj buys chili oil for wwx *sigh* domesticity at its finest

Oh, The Weather Outside is Frightful by feenwitch

[explicit, lan wangji/wei wuxian, 21k, completed]

because it’s winter, i present to you, snowboarders wangxian !!! of course, it’s enemies to lovers i mean what did you expect from me? this centers around coaches wangxian getting together while herding the juniors around in the snow and you can’t forget the classic *drum roll* getting stuck together in a cabin and it’s so cold that they just have to huddle together for warmth, also olympic winner lwj ! i always find myself re-reading this one, it’s so fluffy

paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3

[explicit, lan wangji/wei wuxian, 53k, completed]

MODERN SINGLE DAD LWJ WITH ART TEACHER WWX? I AM SOLD. or in which dadji accidentally co-parents with a-yuan’s art teacher. the result is me melting, this is the softest thing ever, even the way they pine in this one is the softest. wwx paints lwj + a-yuan a bunny picture, lwj composes wangxian for wwx, there’s also some making out in an art gallery. if you’re looking for a comfort fic, this would be the perfect one

the recluse at the end of the moonlit path by b_ofdale

[teen and up, lan wangji/wei wuxian, 28k, completed]

what if wwx dies of old age after post-canon and gets reincarnated in the modern world? you get this fic. immortal lwj just waiting for his lover to return after all of these years... give me the tissues already damn. also photographer wwx hello? and lwj builds him a dark room? LWJ IS ALWAYS BESOTTED NO MATTER THE TIMELINE.

#wangxian #mo dao zu shi #mdzs fic rec #fic rec #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan wangji/wei wuxian #jiang cheng #lan xichen #xicheng

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spockandawe · 4 years ago

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What are your favorite chinese webnovels? What are some of the differences youve noticed between cnovels and other types of novels?

That second question is really, REALLY interesting, and I really want to answer it well, and I am REALLY sure I’m going to do a bad job of answering it, so let me just noodle about that first question for a minute while I try to think XD

I went through some of my TOP-top favorite novels in more detail yesterday, but generally speaking, mxtx and meatbun are both at the top of the pack. They’re really good at writing compelling main characters and balancing piles of angst with plenty of humor and pulling everything together into a very satisfying ending (which is something I don’t alwaysssss see, even in some of the novels I really like). After them, The Disabled Tyrant’s Pet Palm Fish (transmigration, ancient chinese prince falls in love with pet fish) and Golden Stage (ancient chinese gay arranged marriage between bitter enemies(?)) are two novels that I love a lot, which both have very cute romances and go a bit lighter on the main character suffering front, and which I broadly recommend to anyone who’s interested in the genre. They didn’t end stick the landing QUITE as hard as an svsss or tgcf, but they still were very nice.

Then, let me see. I’m trying to remember which books I’ve read in the last year, and am doing a terrible job, haha. I will say that a book I enjoyed for like... eighty percent of it and then the ending let me down terribly was The Dreamer In The Spring Boudoir (modern day career woman transmigrates into barely-fantasy ancient china novel as the disliked primary wife of a nobleman), which is also the only straight webnovel I’ve read so far. The main character and romance were delightful, but that ending... haha, wow, I felt betrayed. But I did like the first half very much!! I’m idly contemplating a deliberately-partial reread. Then I’m currently like two chapters away from catching up with the current translation of The Wife Is First (ancient chinese prince lives out time travel fixit fic, determined to treat his spouse better this time around). I’m also catching up on Heroic Death System (transmigration, across MANY universes, where the goal is to die heroically in each one, and also maybeeeee to find his boyfriend in each one. this shit gets fucking bananas. in one of them, he emotionally seduces his boyfriend while he’s a dolphin. in another one, he’s a sentient mushroom. i’m in the middle of a section titled ‘I Am An Evil Pen’. yes, like a writing utensil type of pen. this is the weirdest book I’ve read so far). Oh, and Thousand Autumns (righteous sect leader gets sabotaged and loses a fight, wakes up blind and amnesiac, demonic sect leader is like ‘lol i bet i can turn him evil’ and accidentally catches feelings along the way).

What else... I’m keeping up with (but behind on) some others. First, there’s How To Survive As A Villain (modern terminally ill CEO transmigrates into stallion novel, wakes up as villain, accidentally seduces hero). Then, we’ve got Transmigrating Into The Body Of The Heartthrob’s Cannon Fodder Childhood Friend (only modern webnovel I’ve read, young man transmigrates into beginning of gratuitous whump book, back in high school, and is determined to protect the protagonist from all the canonical suffering). Then there’s Pulling Together A Villain Reformation Strategy (guy transmigrates into story as the hero’s childhood friend who will eventually become his enemy and get killed, successfully acts out his part and dies, completely fails to realize he’s broken his friend’s heart in the process... and then wakes up in another character’s body). And then there’s The Villain’s White Lotus Halo (a transmigrator keeps bouncing from universe to universe as a cannon fodder villain, who gets like half a line before being killed. he tries to purchase an upgrade package so he can be a COOL villain instead, but accidentally gets sold a ‘white lotus halo’ package instead, so that no matter what he does, everyone is just DEEPLY moved by his appearance and is positive he did nothing wrong). All of those are EXTREMELY delightful. You may notice a running transmigration theme, which....... yeah, I think there are a TON of delightful stories in the webnovel scene that deal with this genre, which seem so rare in English language media.

Which makes a good transition point to what’s different about the cnovel scene! I’ve seen hardly any transmigration stories in English, and I’ve got a couple go-to examples for when I’m trying to explain it, but like. Only a couple. Which is such a shame! Like, there’s the default idea of ‘I was reading this book and then I woke up inside the book!!’ but it’s clearly such an established genre that people are playing with it in all kinds of interesting ways, like in The Villain’s White Lotus Halo or Heroic Death System setups. It’s kind of wild to me, because it seems like such a gimme for a nice easy story structure? Whatever kind of world you want to present, there’s no need to introduce it to the reader from the ground up, or find a good way to hook them in. Either the main character read the book in question and can explain the premise and why we should care in pov, or the main character is new to the universe too, and trying to find their own footing. I enjoy it a lot! I’ve sampled transmigration books that didn’t grab me, but I’ve sampled way more that did.

And then, the one semi-technical answer I thought of to this question was the way that these novels tend to handle pov. It’s not a hard-and-fast rule that regular novels are restricted to one pov, or that pov can only change at hard breaks in the story, but if I saw a bog-standard american novel glide from pov to pov the way these novels regularly do, I would tend to wonder if it was sloppiness or a mistake, or I would grump to myself about how I don’t like omniscient third person pov. And I still don’t know exactly what I think about this, or why it’s different in here, but I’m pretty sure I like it a lot, especially for stories where the romance tends to play a large part :V

I used to read a lot of Books About Writing, and read plenty of stuff about why you don’t DO this, but.... I like it! In dtppf, Jing-wang can’t talk, and when Li Yu is a fish, he can’t talk, and drifting from one of their perspectives to the other gives me lots of useful information about how they’re both feeling. Could that be conveyed through restricted pov? Maybe! But I’m typesetting the svsss extras right now, and I’m in the bing-ge vs bing-mei section, and we get a few brief flashes of bing-ge’s thoughts, and it’s so NICE. It’s information I would not have otherwise received, because Shen Qingqiu sure wasn’t going to notice it. But early in the story, that pov was withheld from me, which also made sense (or hua cheng’s pov was withheld from me FOREVER, which makes me so sad ;u;). There don’t seem to be any hard and fast rules, which makes me really nervous about writing fic and trying to match the style, but I do like it a lot!

And I’m definitely not able to articulate this in the way that I would like to, or speak with any real authority (I’m not that widely read in the cnovel scene, and i’m not very genre-adventurous in english), but there’s something about the role that the romances play in these stories that’s different from what I’m used to expecting, and it’s VERY tasty to me. I only rarely read romance novels, because I’m not often interested in the romance as a primary plot driver, but the romances in these books play a more substantial role than I’m used to expecting. And I’m into it! It’s a balance closer to what I’d expect from, like, a shippy longform fanfic. Which covers a lot of ground and is NOT a precise measure, but there’s more emotional weight given to the romance than I would expect, but without the romance carrying ALL of the emotional weight, and it strikes a perfect balance for me in a way I’m not used to encountering. Now, some of this could definitely be due to me not finding the right authors, or right subgenres, or whatever. But in the genres I inhabit, it’s a subtle difference, but one I find compelling.

Oh, one last thing. The cultural differences, duh :P I’m only familiar with things like, say, ancient chinese court etiquette through a lens of fan-translated novels like these, and I didn’t grow up steeped in the culture in a way I’m used to the trappings of something like medieval european courts. But there’s a distinct flavor to the social dynamics of these novels, from the formal levels down to the casual, and I know it’s super intricate and detailed and that authors play with differing degrees of historical accuracy vs fictional fun, and I wish I was better equipped to speak to the nature of any of this. But I find it really compelling! I recognize that it’s only new to ME because I didn’t seek out chinese media before now. And, the point that I originally wanted to get to before I got super distracted: the flirting. The flirting and teasing are a very different flavor from what I would expect in most english language media, and I love it, even if I can’t speak to how much of that is purely cultural, and how much of it is like... the conventions of How Fiction Is Written varying by culture, if that makes sense. I adore seeing what flirting and affection and indulgence and attentiveness look like in different settings, and these books, with their heavy romantic focus, absolutely deliver.

#spock replies #long post/#i've read more novels than i thought :p #i thought it wasn't many #but then more kept occurring to me #i've only read a few that i don't recommend period but i've read a lot of good ones #Anonymous

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unioncolours · 3 years ago

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A 2nd Majsasaurus Year!

Today, 22nd of September 2021, it’s been two years since I officially joined the magical world of fandom. 22.9.2019 I uploaded the first chapter to my fic Shadows and Sand, and the rest is history.

I did a deep dive into my first year as a fic writer and active member of fandom last year, when it was my first anniversary. You can read it here!

In that meta discussion about my membership of fandom, I presented it as if walking on clouds. I was so, so happy and talked during all the discussion about my happiness in fandom.

Since that post was written, my life and also my perception of the fandom I am part of has changed. Change isn’t always bad, as I really had a honeymoon phase with fandom over a year ago, and the low after hit hard.

But let’s see what I’ve been up to and what I’ve been writing! The following year provided much change and fun things! Please keep reading 💜⬇

The first fic I wrote since 22.9.2020 was a Sakura x Ino fic. I had for a longer while been interested in writing a woman-loves-woman ship, which I had never done before, and as a wlw-person myself the urge to explore that part led to Promise me this is just a kiss. The pairing itself was chosen on rather random, it had to be two women and I like Ino, so I chose the most popular Ino-wlw ship for this for convenience.

I really liked writing the fic and it was well-received! It was the first time I had written a fic that was entirely centred around exploring feelings and having sex.

After this I jumped directly onto the next idea that had been boiling inside me for a longer while. Up to this point, all I had written, except the wlw-fic, had been set in the Naruto canonverse and I was itching to try to work with a multi-chaptered modern au! The pairing was of course my beloved Shikadai x Inojin.

It was during the creation of this fic I began to struggle. This was a new genre, as this was romance only and all my other works had been action and fantasy based, except the sex fic of course. I was maybe over critical and stressed, which resulted in me having a hard time writing it. But I made it. Was the sky always this beautiful? ended up being 35k long, and in hindsight, I freaking love, love, love how it turned out in the end and what it represented. I am very proud of this fic.

I “upgraded” as a fan by the end of October when I bought myself a digital drawing tablet. I began drawing fanart of Shikadai and Inojin and preferably them two together, haha! I still draw a few days a month and find it extremely fun as a side hobby beside the writing.

We are now in November 2020. By this time, I had completely finished my zine fic, Under the Scorching Sun, which I had written during September and October, for the Shikatema zine I was kindly accepted to. I was proud of what I had created and was eager for the rest of the contributors to wrap up theirs, so we’d have a wonderful zine for sale in 2021. It was lovely to write ShikaTema again. As the zine fic was about to be released in months from when I had at first finished it, I wanted of course to write something fans and friends could immediately take part of on the internet. I had hyped myself up to a state where I wanted to write a third and final story in my series To love and never let go, my epic series about Shikadai and Inojin.

Now, I should maybe have waited another month, but I was worried the readers would give up on me if I didn’t write it right away. In December, I began writing To find hope in the Universe, with my usual speed and love for the art.

What I by then didn’t realise or even recognise was that I was very slowly turning burned out. I ignored all the signs.

In December I wrote simultaneously as Hope in the Universe a fic that was part of the Shikatema server’s Secret Santa event. The fic’s name was The Ghost Stories of our Hearts, and it was ShikaTema, as the event’s name suggests. It was fun to write and despite the final big fic, Hope in the Universe, pressing down on me, I finished The Ghost Stories of our Hearts and was very happy with the result. Sadly, at this point the burnout began taking control over me, and I never managed to reply to the comments.

The 15th of January, I began uploading To find hope in the Universe. It was a lovely experience, even if it was tainted by negative feelings coming from my decreasing happiness and the fact that it didn’t do as well as To dance above the Stars, the second fic in the series. To deal with two very contradiction emotions, loving my work, the characters, how I have painted an entire world around the characters and how I knew some people honestly loved my hard work, and then the negative feelings coming from not feeling good enough and depressed, was a difficult thing to navigate and still is when I think back to that time. It didn’t help that during the process of uploading the fic I went through grief, and I chose distraction as my coping method. I kept writing and working, the only thing I ever knew.

Our pre-order of the Shikatema zine was in full motion by this time and it was a nerve-wracking time! Mostly because of excitement but also worry. I’m super happy for my friends who were part of the zine, with whom I could share all the excitement and nervousness with. The zine ended up making good sales, which made me happy among the uploading of the long fic.

To find hope in the Universe was completed 31st of March 2021. When I uploaded the final chapter, I felt nothing. It was so weird, so spooky, to have finished a long fic and a series on top of that and not feel anything. But deep down, beneath the layer of depression, I felt great pride.

That was the emotion that broke free once the burnout left me. Pride.

I had created this empire of Shikajin, a whole alternative timeline, an alternative canon from my own head and to this day, that is my internet legacy. I love Trial of the Heart, which I wrote in 2020, but if I have to choose between ToH and this series, I will choose To love and never let go in a heartbeat.

So, even if it felt depressing and hopeless in the moment, I look now back with pride and happiness. Never forget that. Never forget that I made that.

April was a curious time. I swore to not write anything, because I had by now recognised that I was burned out and needed to rest, yet managed to scrape together three smaller fics.

The first one was another wlw-smut fic, TemaSaku this time called Another Light. I wanted to explore that part once again. I wrote it in canonverse and honestly think the fic ended up extremely nice. Perfect amount of feels and sex. It didn’t feel hard to write at all, because the setting, characters and emotions were so different from the fics I had written the last five months.

Now more interesting things lay on the horizon! A new zine, the Ino-Shika-Cho zine called Beyond a Bond had an interest check during the spring, and later the contributor application. I urged in the interest check to please give us the next gen kids, Shikadai, Inojin and Chocho – my kids and babies, and when it turned out they were going to feature, I had to apply as a writer. For this application I wrote a one shot, called It’s just hair, and I loved this spunky little story featuring the best babies that I created.

I also edited one of my tumblr fics, And then I kissed him, into a longer, better version that I later in May uploaded onto AO3. It was once again a Shikajin, a sequel of Trial of the Heart, and it was a fun little project.

Now May came and I sent in the application for the zine early, which I now am relieved I did. I am happy that I did the work for the application in April instead of May, because in May I had a few breakdowns and another grieving period, which lead to complete creative paralysis. I didn’t write a single word during May, only uploaded the two one shots I had prepared in April.

What I did do in May was to read through the Shikatema zine I had contributed to! It arrived in the mail! I was so nervous; my whole body was shaking when I opened the package right outside the post office. The zine now resides on the parade place in my little zine shrine in the bookshelf. Thank you to the mods who made this a reality!

To my great happiness my zine adventures continued as I was accepted to the Ino-Shika-Cho zine as a writer and was assigned to write my favourite characters. I felt so relieved and overjoyed, mind blown by the sheer talent among the contributors.

On the other fandom front, June didn’t continue any brighter, with stress and mental pain still having a strong grip around me, despite the very happy news that I am still so grateful for. I wrote a Yamanaka family fic which to this day hasn’t seen the light of AO3, because of negative emotions surrounding it. I turned into a complete wreck compared to me in June 2020. In June 2020 I was flourishing, I loved what I did, I loved fandom and I loved the friends I had made through Discord servers. Now I could find myself crying my eyes out over a wip not going the way I wished it would. What had happened to Bex 2021?

I was so incredibly frustrated with myself, groaning in defeat when my hands just couldn’t write. I managed to push through 6k of what I called my “emo au” – more of that later – and finish the Yamanaka fic which is still buried, and on top of that I had the zine and another fandom event, The Naruto Photo Album, to create content for. Why couldn’t I do it? Why couldn’t I find happiness in something that once was my reason for happiness?

In the end, I managed to write 15k in June. My former monthly word count used to be 30k. One could think this would turn into the end of my fic writing career, or the beginning of a longer hiatus, but I am stubborn and want to meet the expectations of the people who love my content, so I didn’t want to give up. I wanted to try. I wanted to be whoever I was before.

Funnily enough, the healing came in the shape of the most self-indulgent fic I have ever, ever written, a fic I like possessed began writing July the 1st 2021. It was nothing less than a freaking fairy tale AU, namely a Shikadai x Inojin Peter Pan AU. I can hear you laugh at the silliness of it, but this whimsical AU gave me back my love for writing. I hyper-fixated on this story quite a bit and stopped writing on everything else, something I almost never do.

Only happy boys fly ended up being 21 000 words long! I knew it was a niched story, and true to my guesses, the story has to this day very low stats. Today, two months after it was published, it has just above 100 hits and 10 kudos, so for all I know, only ten people read and liked it. I try to not care too much, since I love the story and in some way, that story saved me from going batshit insane over my emotions about writing.

At this point I had begun writing my fic from the Ino-Shika-Cho zine, finding joy in silly scenes with my favourite characters and trying to heal. The writing process was frustratingly slow, but one word at a time I got forward and as of today, the draft is done. The pre-orders are in December. At the side of the zine fic I wrote a short fluffy Shikajin story, CLEAR, a story with almost no plot, because I knew how much self-indulgence could help me.

And then, I finally began writing for real on my emo au, A gang of fallen stars, which has the first few chapters up right now! I have for the first time in six months a longer fic (if we don’t count the Peter Pan story) and it feels… good. This fic is once again a modern au, but in darker tones than my other modern au from November 2020. I honestly like what I have so far, even if I during June and July almost planned to never finish it. I am so relieved I managed to begin the upload. In September the Photo Album was released and I could show my two fics I wrote for it.

It sounds like this year has been nothing but misery, and at times it felt like it. However, there are a few fandom friends who brought light to my life when I couldn’t see it. The first ones to mention are of course my partners in crime, @notquitejiraiya and @thespookymoth. Together we created a server dedicated to Ino-Shika-Cho during the spring and it has been tons of fun with the members there! Thank you two for listening to me and for being my friends during 2021.

I also have to mention Soverel, who carefully begun taking contact through comments and likes on my twitter, and later through direct messages, and it has been a fun ride ever since. We’ve had lovely discussions which are very dear to me and your support means a lot to me. Thank you for being you and for drawing so many wonderful artworks you’ve shared with me. Haha, and for making me play Genshin Impact, even though I do it like twice a month!

Another person who has made my days so much brighter is @sugarriene. Thank you for sending me that one dm that made us chat regularly, thank you for popping up and sharing panels and your wonderful drawings with me, and for vibing head canons with me. You are a lovely person, and you make me happy.

Finally, I want to give a shout out to @yoboseyokyu for listening to me when I had to yell into the void and for making me happy with your cute posts on both twitter and tumblr.

Since September 2020, I’ve written around 195 000 words and drawn close to 35 illustrations, most of them of Shikadai and Inojin. Almost 200 000 words of Majsasaurus. I’ve created a Discord server and I’ve been part of two zines as a writer, plus a free PDF-project.

It has been a wild year. A year filled with passion for my favourite characters and ship, with the excitement that came with being part of projects and hyping them. It was a year where I learned to draw digitally, and heck what fun it was.

This also a year where I learned people can be mean to me because of what I ship and that fandom friends won’t necessarily always stay to be your friend anymore and how much it can hurt. I also learned what my limits are, and what punishment I get if I don’t listen to my own mind and rest when I have to.

It was a year, guys.

Now, onto the third Majsasaurus Year. Cheers!

And those of you, who supported me when I needed it – thank you and I love you.

#majsasaurus

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idontwannapickausername · 3 years ago

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here’s some friendly writing reminders i’ve collected and thought might be nice to share with my fellow writers;

- drabble writing is valid writing. not every idea needs to be a full fledged novel

- “I feel confident in my writing, and anything I get (hits, kudos, bookmarks, comments) is a joy and a gift. Yes, even hits.”

- your mental health comes before writing

- it’s okay to take a writing break if you’re tired or don’t feel like writing (don’t feel guilty about taking a break)

- your self worth doesn’t depend on your productivity and it’s okay to just exist sometimes; you’re doing Amazing, sweetie

- this is a hobby, not a job; you’re not getting paid or trying to get a promotion or be number one, so just relax and enjoy it

- you don’t need to constantly/consistently post new things; just let your posted works sit and look back at all the things you have written

- fanfiction isn’t written for you, it’s shared with you; the person my fanfiction is written for is ME. when other people enjoy it, that’s wonderful and it makes me happy, but i shouldn’t beat myself up if people don’t; it’s not for them. it’s for me. if other people don’t like it? meh

- low kudos/bookmarks/recs/comments don’t mean your writing is bad (don’t let numbers fool you into thinking they mean something when they don’t. YOU love your story, and that’s the most important thing. you’re sharing your love of something with other people who love it too, and that’s wonderful

- comparison is the thief of joy — if we compare ourselves to others, we may be left with feelings of inferiority or superiority — and neither creates an emotionally healthy human being

- for short fic writers: your fluffy/angsty/smutty/all of the above fics are so nice to read after a long day! when i just need something small because i don’t have the energy for something long, you wrote something for yourself and shared it with us, and i am so glad that we have writers like you

- if you write fluff: thank you so much! i love reading your self-indulgent fics. they are so sweet and adorable and those characters definitely would do that;

- if you write smut: thank you so much! i love reading your own fantasies (or realities, or just what you chose to write). they make me smile and blush;

- when you reread your writing and even though it’s not perfect, it’s your own story, and that’s kinda amazing

- your writing is always better than you think it is. you just think it’s bad because the story’s always gonna be predictable to the one who’s writing it;

- whatever you draw, whatever you write, as long as you tried, it’s good enough. don’t stop just because you think it’s bad. if it makes you happy, it’s good enough;

- writers, keep in mind that one person’s boring is another person’s perfectly written

- it doesn’t *matter*. fandom is for fun, as i often say, and as such - for me, at least - the stakes are enormously low. if it’s terrible - nbd. there is literally always a worse fanfic out there than yours.

- your writing is worth it, you are worth it, and i’m proud of you. i’m proud of you for writing, i’m proud of you for putting a piece of yourself out into the world, and i’m proud of you for making something that only you can make

- to the writers: write for yourself, not for anybody else. you’re not paid to do this. you give up time out of your life for this. you rarely get any reward for it. what’s the point in writing something if you can’t enjoy it? your main purpose is to give yourself the satisfaction of having completed something that you wanted to read. everyone else is secondary. it’s your story. write it for you.

#writing #friendly reminders #ref

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madyxtothemax · 4 years ago

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The Pit Stop - Part Two with @MyArrowBends

Madyx:

<The minute he agreed, my grin stretched into a broad smile. I was sure it gave me away entirely, but that was alright considering he'd pretty much just called us both out. Atticus was making it really tricky to remain professional. My gut was telling me when I laid eyes on the goods I was going to be full on dickmatized. I already had his dick on my mind in a way I didn’t ever have it on my mind, mostly because anything beyond surface attraction was extinguished as soon as the wick got lit. I may have wanted it, but as soon as my temptation registered, my chemistry stripped me of it. It was fucked. Deeper interest meant distraction and therefore, thanks to the nature of my kind, there was something to keep it in check, kind of the equivalent of a hormonal response.

The reaction numbed my own receptors in favor of amplifying the one whose itch I was scratching. That was how it worked, their ultimate pleasure at the expense of mine. But, as was the way of nature, in order to thrive and evolve, there were loopholes, even for the fae. At the edges of my consciousness, something was hinting at the idea Atticus qualified.

Was I interested? Hell yeah, I was interested and nothing so far had dulled for me, my antenna was still receiving, confirmed by a jump of my dick against my zipper. The awakenings kept coming and I was going to stop asking why to avoid any jinxing. There was a tugging at the back of my mind; I knew there was something about Atticus that was allowing this exchange. He was unique. I was chasing an internal lead but I couldn’t quite catch what it was. Not yet.

When he pulled his sweatshirt up over head, I didn’t miss how some of his t-shirt dragged up his abs with it before falling back down due to gravity. Fuck if that little flash of skin didn’t leave me wanting to hit rewind and watch it all over again.

I had to get a grip. Seriously.

Right. Business. I stretched back from my spot to grab the consent forms that required his autograph, handing it over to him.>

Formalities. Let’s talk about some specifics. Pain? Are you good with it? There’s an option of using a numbing agent. Check box three if you’re declining.

Because of the nature of this piercing we’ll go with a larger gauge. I’m thinking either an eight or a ten. I brought out some twelve gauges but something tells me those will be too small. <Casual, real smooth, Madyx, why not just tell him you think he’s going to be impressive?> Too small with the gauge, the greater the risk of rejection.

I’ll drop the first piercing a certain distance below your head, it may be instinct to start higher on the shaft but if you want a Prince Albert down the line, you’ll want to leave some space.

Are you with me so far? Any questions? <clearing my throat because suddenly I was really thirsty> And when you’re ready, go ahead and whip it out for me. <There it was, heat in my cheeks and a smirk on my lips because I was giddy about seeing his cock, and hadn’t been shy about expressing it. I was ready to go for broke and blur every last line.>

Atticus:

-It felt like so much was suddenly happening all at once, which hadn’t that been what I was asking for when I told him to get needling me? I suppose it was. Couldn’t fault the guy for taking that request as seriously as he had when I originally asked about piercings. Madyx had been nothing but a professional on task, even through the flirting. He seemed to be dealing with things much better than I was. And that was a good thing, I didn’t want a guy with nerves and shaky hands coming at me with a needle. Hell no.

A clipboard with a paper had been handed to me along with instructions to fill it out. Pain, numbing, more piercings. Woah. That needed addressing before any ink hit the page.-

Uh. No. I won’t be getting a Prince Albert. I can tell you that with confidence. Something about it feels…just not for me. But you can still make the judgement on placement regardless.

-Nodding to myself, I picked up the pen that came with the clipboard Mad had given me. I read over the words on the consent form, though they didn’t stick, I had to give them a couple more passes before I caught the gist of what should have been an easy read, my mind was still too preoccupied with everything, it didn’t have room for unimportant things like informed consent for a body modification procedure. I laughed as I realized it had been the same for me when I was working the nine to five.- Paperwork, yeah? Does anyone ever enjoy that part of these things?

-I focused on filling in the blanks, and was surprised at how steady my hand felt. The nerves I was previously feeling seemed to settle right into anticipation and excitement. As I got to the part about pain, I hesitated. I knew I had a pretty decent pain threshold. I had survived falling out of my childhood treehouse, broke my ankle and still managed to hobble my way back into the house before I felt any real pain register.

I checked the box to forgo the numbing. It felt a little like cheating myself on the whole experience anyway. I didn’t want to look back on this night and regret having missed out on even some pain. Pain was the counterbalance to merely existing. It let you know you were alive.

When he asked me if I had any questions, I shook my head no and looked up just in time to see his face flush with heat. Well now. My grin was instant and full as I passed him the completed paper. All doubt about his invite to stick around being out of pity fell away as fast as I could unbutton my jeans. That red on his cheeks told me he was just as affected by me as I was him.

There was nothing left to do but put myself on display for him as instructed. Full wood be damned, I swung my legs around to rest on the outstretched part of the chair and pressed my back against the upper part as I pressed my feet down using the leverage to lift my hips up as I lowered the zipper, and in one smooth motion I pushed my jeans and boxers down enough to give him all the access he needed to get the job done.-

Madyx:

<I eyed the paperwork, scanning into my head all of his preferences. I was thrilled by the fact he hadn’t opted for the numbing, but I didn’t think I’d add any bonus pain. We’d see how he handled the forceps and go from there. Setting the clipboard aside, I tried to avert my eyes, I really did, when it was curtain call time. I didn’t want him to feel as though I was going to sit there and gawk, but I’d be lying to myself if I wasn’t looking forward to the reveal. Shit, if my peripheral vision was any indication, I was in a world of trouble. I cleared my throat. Oh man.

I’d encountered plenty of cock in my life and wasn’t lacking confidence when it came to his, but my attraction was throwing a wrench into the mix. Hello nerves. Here he was, cock out and I was the one hesitating. I stalled… getting everything I needed to make the piercings happen all lined up before finally finding my balls again. Rotating on my stool, my eyes went immediately to his...full staff.

Holy shit.

His dick was...the Adonis of dicks. I tried to casually rub my gloved-hand over my mouth to hide the way I was grinning on sight of it, but it was too late. It was NOT professional but I couldn’t help it. I was also full of gratitude because I had asked him to hang out before the reveal; I didn’t want him to feel objectified. The sexual tension between us was arresting but it wasn’t the only thing driving the mood. Atticus seemed to be throwing off this vibe - no - a distinct message, that if he were going to get any pleasure out of the deal, I’d have to indulge in my own.

I finally lifted my eyes to make that contact with his and smirked for what felt like the fiftieth time in the course of thirty minutes. It felt dirty. It felt right. It felt easy. I wondered how his desires would shift if I told him my pleasure would be his body under mine before my lips wrapped around that Adonis cock. And that that would just be the warm up.

While my mind surfed these waves of fantasy, there was suspense in the silence, but it was not uncomfortable. I was overdue on throwing some dialogue into the mix.> I can work with that.

<Yep. I could. I could put in normal hours, plus overtime and then some holiday while I was at it. Ten gauge was going to be perfect. He definitely had the size for the eights, but his dick was too gorgeous to let the jewelry take center stage. I should have fucking known... it matched the rest of him.>

I’m pretty confident you know yourself, so I believe you on the Prince Albert, but who knows what five years might change. <Grabbing one of the brushed steel barbells, I brought it up to set it against the back side of his shaft, below the head. I knew the metal would be cold against his skin and I couldn’t help myself from making contact. Gods...he was so hard, and it was apparently making my own cock want to stand up and shake hands. I inhaled through my nose to calm my shit, because I still had work to do. I moved the placement of the barbell down.> Number two I was thinking it should sit... right here. <I increased pressure this time, resisting every urge to add some fae enhancements to the mix.> Thoughts? Do you want to see how any other styles look, make sure this is the right aesthetic? Not that you can’t swap it later, but I want you to like what you walk away with. <Ouch, somehow saying the last part stung and made me immediately want to retract the words for how they made me feel. Thankfully there was a double frenum piercing at hand, and that fact kept me anchored in the moment.>

Atticus:

-If ever I felt like I was living my life in slow motion, it was right now. Once I had shoved my jeans down, I settled into the chair and waited. It was much like ripping a band-aid off. Quick, easy, mostly painless. I looked over and watched as Madyx turned toward me, and almost laughed, he was doing his damndest to not outright stare. He was failing. I could see his gaze moving all over but it kept returning to my cock. That did wonders for the nerves I had been previously feeling about the whole situation.

I could see the grin he wasn’t quite able to hide with his hand and if that wasn’t the most endearing thing I had seen, I didn’t know what was. It was obvious he was needing a couple of seconds to gather his thoughts, and I wanted to put him at ease, make a joke, something, but I was already struggling as much as he seemed to be. What a pair we were right now.

Then, something must have righted itself for him, because he looked me dead in the eye and fucking smirked.

Guess his thoughts had figured out where they wanted to go because he immediately followed that smirk up with a comment about being able to work with what I had on display. I laughed hard. More of the slightly awkward tension between us melted away in that moment. I was about to tell him he had no choice but to work with it because I wasn’t looking to have any cosmetic surgery done, but he once again brought up future piercings. I shook my head.- Seriously, I’d rather you tattoo your name across my forehead than get a…

-I trailed off as he brought a barbell up to check for sizing and all further words died on my tongue. I swallowed them down as the cool metal hit heated skin. It was light, barely there at first, but the second one I felt firmer pressure and all I could do was nod at his recommendations.-

You’re the expert here, Mad. I trust you. Despite the current circumstances, I’m not exactly the flashy type, so go with whatever you think will look best. Better yet, choose what you would want to have. Yeah. Go with that. That’s what I want. What you’d choose if you were me.

-The idea of having hand picked barbells felt right. It would be something I could have with me to remember this night and experience. I knew I wouldn’t forget anything about this, or Madyx for as long as I lived. Everything from the moment I walked into the shop felt like I was living right in the middle of what would be one of those memories a person wished they could relive over and over again once it was over. His comment about walking away with something I liked hit right in the chest, and that took me by surprise.

At no point during any of my travelling west had I felt the desire to put down roots, and now, this guy was sewing seeds of doubt and wonder. I wasn’t sure what to do with that. Sure, he asked me to stick around after the piercings were done, but that didn’t mean he meant for more than the night. Did it?-

Madyx:

I like you, Atticus, and there is no way in hell I’d let you get my name on your forehead. Maybe your ass, but not your face. <more smirking as I set the jewelry down> Promise me you won’t ever mess with all that gorgeous.

<My tone was firm and unyielding, even with the understanding he’d been joking. He didn’t need any extras, he was almost too-easy on the eyes, his good looks authentic even under his pseudo-disguise of road wear. I was just about to ease into the comfort zone and cruise at a lazy pace, when he hit me with another heart-punch.

My head leaned to one side and my grin lifted on the opposite end when he asked me to pick out the barbells for him. While I knew they were anything but permanent, something kicked at me deep down, an awareness that this was more than just a casual request from him. It was for me too. Hello fireball of feelings. I let every level hit me without putting up a defense. I was stunned, honored, aroused and touched in all the right ways. And….there was my heart again, banging so hard in my chest I felt the throb in my dick. My smile was broad and open.>

That’s a first. In my ten plus years of doing this, nobody has ever asked me to pick for them. Thanks for that trust. <I hit his eyes with mine to hopefully convey the conviction in my words. I already knew what I was going with for him, but I was going to show him why. I picked up one of the brushed steel 10-gauges and held it between us.> These...are understated. Also underrated, if you ask me. I promise you I’m not trying to pawn off inventory, but these have been overlooked by one-hundred percent of clients. Not only do they match your energy…these are going to leave any partner with a some extra sensation for the matte surface of the balls. It may be subtle, but not negligible. Check it out while I get you ready. <I dropped the barbell into his hand and redirected my attention to his cock. Damn. He definitely wasn’t flaccid. I switched out my gloves, snapping on a new set because I’d been premature with the first pair, even if they were just for show. A perk of being inked or pierced by a pleasure fae was the zero risk and accelerated healing for the recipient.

I went about setting up the sterile environment, framing his crotch with surgical drape before opening up an antiseptic wipe to prep his shaft.> This might be a little cold. <I popped my brows and then swiped up and down the backside of his dick. Sweet hell, it was challenging to keep my head in the game. After I finished up with that, I pinched the skin below his head, it was tight, but I could get the needle through without risk of injury. Grabbing the forceps, I clamped the skin to hold it in place, lifting my eyes.>

Take a breath with me, Atticus.

When you’re ready. Just say the word.

Atticus:

-I had been expecting laughter, to have my request of Mad choosing the hardware for me brushed off on some kind of professional boundary or limitation given the personal nature, and how once used, the barbells couldn’t be returned if I didn’t like them. None of those things happened. Instead, I found myself holding a slightly rough piece of stainless steel, after being told to give it a feel. I rolled it between my thumb and index finger while my brain caught up with the compliments he had paid me only moments before.

He liked me. That’s what he had said. I already figured as much, but getting the vocal confirmation was nice. I’d need it to remind myself if I went and got all doubting Thomas again. As I considered the way the brushed metal dragged over the pads of my fingertips, I chuckled to myself at how casually he had suggested tattooing his name on my ass. The idea struck me in a way that didn’t leave me feeling like I had earlier when he asked if I had been interested in getting some ink. And what a conundrum that left me in.

I reminded myself I still was not the tattoo type, not by a long shot then shook my head to get my brain back online before I could make any more snap decisions, because getting two piercings was plenty of snap decisions for one night. The whole sticking around afterward was not being counted as a secondary snap decision. No way, it was all one, a giant umbrella of snap decision making.

Madyx’s voice brought me out of my head and straight back into the present along with the rude awakening that was a cold swipe along the underside of my dick.- Shit. -I laughed in surprise then forced myself to pay the fuck attention. I had completely missed the whole paper apron thing that was now on my lap happening.

If I wanted to replay this memory in my mind in the near future, and I knew that I would, I’d need to absorb as much detail as I could. Gaps and missing steps did not a proper memory make. Solid memories were supposed to fade slowly, over time, leaving you with just the feelings the experience gave when the images failed to be recalled. That was the way nostalgia worked, and I wanted tonight to give old and grey-haired me of the future so much nostalgia it would last me until the very end.

Mad’s grip as he worked to prep for the first piercing was firm and sure, practiced and professional, and surprisingly not at all painful. My skin had already felt stretched tight, but somehow he managed to get a grip and place the clamp on where he wanted. My heart kicked against my chest. This was happening. Only moments away from him jamming a needle through my skin. No big deal. This was what I wanted. My eyes never left his hands as they held the clamp in place. Then, when his voice hit my ears I looked up to meet his gaze, and inhaled deeply as he instructed, like he just knew I needed it. After a couple of thudding wooshes of my pulse in my ears, I exhaled and nodded at him.- Yep. I’m ready. Do it.

Madyx:

Just keep taking nice slow breaths for me, Atticus.

<I pinched the skin below the forceps then clamped the spot for the second piercing. The stage was set and it was showtime. I licked between my lips before I realized what I was doing. I couldn’t help it, even with all kinds of hardware obscuring the view, his dick was making my mouth water. The only thing that stopped me from winding down that road of fantasy was the overriding desire to make the experience everything and all about him. Vibe or not, this was about what he was going to take with him, and not in the way of body jewelry.

I looked up again, finding the anchor of his eyes while I disinfected the needle I’d just popped out of its packaging. Without even realizing it, I noted our breaths had remained synced, and that connection ran through my veins like wildfire.

Refocusing back on the task at hand, I positioned the hollow needle and I took a steadying breath, then counted down in my head… three… two… one. I pushed the needle through his flesh, before sliding the piercing in behind it in a fluid and seamless exchange.>

One down. You’re doing stellar.

Keep breathing.

How are we doing, Atticus? <I nearly dropped a hand to his thigh to soothe...but that would have been too blatant, too soon. But… I wanted to. Damn it. I really wanted to.>

Atticus:

-I WAS NOT READY. It was too late to back out. I didn’t want to back out. His hands were on my dick, I didn’t even have time to properly enjoy that because the second pair of metal forceps were clamping more skin right below the pair he had already situated in place. It was tight and only slightly uncomfortable. A sample taste of the pain to come. I was brimming with anticipation and my heart was pounding even harder than it had been moments ago.

Mad was there with the save, reminding me to keep breathing. I nodded my head and did as I was told, eyes never leaving his hands as they worked. And then, as he sterilized the needle, I looked up and our gazes locked for a few seconds. I hoped I was still breathing because it was really happening now, and gods I didn’t want to pass out on him.

Holy shit, when did the time suddenly start going so fast, it had just been all flirting and fun and now it was all HERE YOU GO, ASSHOLE, THIS IS WHAT YOU ASKED FOR.

The first needle passed through my flesh.-

Oh my FUCKING hell. Shit bags on fire. -It was painful, not agonizingly so, but still heady and palpable in a way that felt like a rush. The adrenaline that had already been pumping through my veins during his entire set up along with my anticipation had given me a tool I could use for the next piercing. Mad was there again with his very helpful “Keep breathing.”-

Thank you needle stabber extraordinaire for that reminder.

-Was he going slower this time?! WTF, WHY? I almost had enough time to ask, the words died on my lips as the second needle was pushed through as steadily as the first one had. I watched in some kind of daze as he threaded the ball onto the second barbell. I didn’t remember seeing the first one being screwed into place, but then again, I had been creatively swearing my way through the pain that wasn’t really as bad as I had expected it to be. The thrill of the moment and the whole experience lingered for me before slowly beginning to recede, being replaced with a dull aching throb that promised to stay the night and well into the next few days, like an unwanted house guest. It was akin to the lingering effects of being sacked. Breaking my ankle had been a far more acute, searing pain. This I could handle.

I exhaled hard and leaned my head back against the chair before looking over at Mad and grinning so I could answer his question.- Good. I think? -I paused to assess my faculties, and decided that I was indeed feeling pretty damn good and shit I wasn’t completely hard anymore, but still at a pretty decent semi.- Yeah. It wasn’t as bad as I was expecting, not that I’m saying it feels good like a blowjob feels good. But definitely not as bad.

Madyx:

I prefer Mad to “needle stabber extraordinaire” but I still wouldn’t kick you out of bed if you insisted on calling me the latter.

<Bookending the statement with a wink, I completed my work before letting him steep in the breadth of involuntary reactions he’d earned. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from drifting the way of being buried inside of him, riding out the experience while physically connected. The adrenaline started to wear, I could tell because his skin was less flushed with color, despite the golden tan he’d likely picked up during his travels. When he dropped his head back against the rest, I absorbed his spectrum of reflexes like a sponge, the subtle diminishment of shock giving way to evened out inhales and exhales, and the slow grin that manifested in complement to the startling blue of his eyes. Talk about piercing. Fuck. The longer I stared, the more gorgeous he got. While his dick hung out in the open air, I kept my eyes up north, memorizing the features that were partially responsible for stoking my hunger to connect. Not that I’d forget him, he was already branded on my brain in searing relief.

My grin widened at his answer, but the brows popped at the mention of a blowjob. I grunted, completely uninhibited, wanting to strike without warning and suck him down my throat, but I resisted again, looking to amp up that sexual tension. I snapped off my gloves and tossed them into the closest trash can, licking my lips for what felt like the hundredth time in his presence.>

That an invitation, Atticus?

Because I’d really, really like to make you feel good.

Still up for a celebratory beer? I’ve got a fully stocked bar, too, if you want something stronger to commemorate the night.

<My eyes flicked back to his cock which I’d neglected to tell him he could put away.> They look so bad ass. I mean, your dick is a stunner on its own, but now it has the addition of hardware to entice. Flash with caution.

Atticus:

-Invitation. Was what an invitation? Had I missed something? I thought I had been paying pretty decent attention now that he was no longer stabbing my dick with needles, but maybe my concentration was more focused on the lingering throb of my pulse at the double piercing sites. I tried to rewind my brain for a minute to find a clue, and failed. Then, when Mad said he wouldn’t kick me out of bed and followed that up with how he really wanted to make me feel good, I connected more than a couple of dots.

We were moving out of heavy flirting and right into the possibility of something more. Shiiit. Yes. Please.

I chuckled low when I realized he was referring to my earlier talk of a blowjob. That had to be the invitation he was asking about. Did I want more than just flirting shamelessly? My dick said DUH. It had wanted more at first sight of Mad, that much was obvious. While I contemplated all the ways I could say yes without coming across as desperately eager, I faintly registered the sound of something hitting the floor though I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Mad’s to see what it was. I was stuck in this moment of possibility, I already knew I’d be tipping myself in the direction of answering all the what ifs I’d have if I declined. My head nodded before I could find my voice when he mentioned a beer. A drink sounded like a great idea, especially the thought of sharing one with him. And then after, by the sounds of it, we could be sharing a bed. I hoped. God how I hoped.

I opened my mouth to accept his offer and then laughed loudly when he complimented my cock, he was talking about more than just the work he’d done. Fortunately, he gave me something I could focus on. I didn’t think offering a lame “thanks” would really convey the way his words twisted up my gut, not to mention the slight heat it brought to the back of my neck, my palm itched to rub at it, but I resisted. Displaying embarrassment at a compliment wasn’t what I wanted to do, not after I’d managed to survive the whole hard dick show and tell from only ten? fifteen? minutes ago.

Besides, how did one even reply to having their junk being called a stunner. I had zero clue. I felt so far out of practice. The flashing I could work with, however. After taking a moment to angle my dick to get a better view of the piercings, I grinned over at him and swung my legs over the side of the chair, and stood up. Tucking myself back into my jeans was a slower than normal process out of fear of doing something to bring on a sudden jolt of holy-shit-how-could-I-forget-I-was-just-pierced pain, fastening the buttons of my fly was handled with more confidence. I even managed to multi-task by answering his question.-

I’m no expert, but I think your work is great. Thank you. Now, about your sage advice...since I’ve already flashed you for more than the customary quick glance, does that mean I no longer have to exercise caution with you? -My brow lifted in teasing humour before I quickly spoke again.- Wait. Maybe save your answer for when we’re having that beer you mentioned.

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