#another great thing: I don’t have to change pens for changing size

[catwouthats]

WIP/rough draft of the first page of The Extraordinarily Ordinary Adventures of Preston Lindsey fan comic

I’m practicing using my feather quill bc that shit makes such nice lines etc so this probably isn’t the final version.

Feather quill >>>> any other pen/inking tool imo

[incandescentlysomething]

Lady of the Ashes: Chapter 2 P.1

House of the Dragon Season 1

Aemond x TargaryenOC

Chapter Word Count: 7390 (both parts)

She was his everything… For her…he would do anything.

From the moment of her birth, Aemond Targaryen swore himself to the protection of his niece Aelinor Velaryon. As the two grew up inseparable, they find themselves entangled in the Dance of Dragons, battling to stay together even as their families try to pull them apart.

A/N: Canon compliant but things change around. Currently cross-posting on A03. Will be approximately 12 chapters aligning with season 1.

Let me know what you think!

Masterlist A03

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 P.1 P.2

124 AC

Princess Aelinor loved the Dragon Pit. If she had been permitted to, she might have spent all day there, hiding from the world, perhaps with a book under her arm, in the company of the creatures she loved above all else. Even if she were sleeping on the straw, it still would have been perfect.

Well, Aemond would have to be there for it to truly be perfect.

She did love the dragons though, it was true, nearly as much as Aemond did. Her own dragon egg had hatched when she was only small, but had grown at a rate that surpassed even the dragon keepers estimations. She now had the largest of all her family’s young dragons. Darrax had outgrown Sunfyre, and based on his wing size the dragonkeepers expected he would grow even larger still. Aelinor had yet to fly on Darrax, though she had mounted him on several occasions.

Aegon said it was a pity that such a beast of war had been tamed by a little mouse, but Aelinor did not mind her meekness. She would much rather spend her days learning about and spoiling her dragon than riding him into battle. She was quite content to decorate Darrax’s pen with pretty wildflowers rather than battle insignia. Aemond was usually with her, though he focused more on the dragon than the decorations. Darrax, as an extension of her own heart, allowed Aemond into his company, even permitting the older boy to stroke his scales on occasion. Her dragon was fiercely protective, but he had good taste in character. She knew it meant a great deal for Aemond to be so close to her dragon, when he did not have one of his own.

“The Dragon Keeper said they shall soon have a saddle ready for you,” Aemond said. He was sitting on a rock in Darrax’s cave, studying the dragon with a careful gaze. “Perhaps this one will work better.”

“It is not the saddle that is the problem,” Aelinor reminded him. “But the reins. And I fail to see what can be done about it.”

Darrax gave a huff, as if in sympathy, and Aelinor reached up to pat his black scales. In the torchlight they glowed dimly, but she knew that if she were to take him up into the daylight they would shine a thousand shades of green and deep blue. It always reminded her of the heavy blue pendant that had not left her throat since she was four years old.

“Don’t say that, Lina,” Aemond protested. “You have a chance to fly, and you must give everything to take it.”

Aelinor shook her head, “Aemond, it is true that Darrax could bear me as a rider, but I will never be able to command him as a dragon rider should. My hand is—”

“Damn your hand!” Aemond shouted, jumping to his feet. Darrax let out a hiss in warning. “You’ll never be able to if you don’t try.”

She knew why it frustrated him so. Despite his best efforts, her uncle had never been able to claim a dragon, and his own egg had never hatched.The other boys teased him relentlessly, often driving him to riskier actions as he sought to have a dragon of his own. Aelinor could not bare to tease him over it, her heart being void of such cruelty, but she could see why it was hard for him to watch her settle for less.

Lifting her hand close to the torchlight, Aelinor sighed. “I can’t hold the reins, Aemond.”

“Then we’ll find another way,” he insisted. “Darrax will learn to respond to different commands, or I will—”

“Or what? You’ll ride with me? And you shall hold the reins while I give commands?” She was teasing slightly now.

“We’ll find a way,” was all he said, though his gaze had settled on her hand.

In the five years since her accident, Aelinor’s hand had never really improved. The wounds had closed, and she had spent many days on bedrest as the maesters tended to her. Throughout all of that, Aemond had stayed right by her side, and it had often seemed as if it pained him more than it pained her. She sometimes thought that he might even blame himself for her injury, though she never would.

“You know what I think?” She said, changing the subject.

“What is that, Lina?” 

Aelinor smiled. “It is time for Jace’s lesson. Come we can go watch him fumble over his High Valyrian again.” She did not often tease her brothers, but their inability to master the tongue of their ancestors did make her chuckle. And she knew it made Aemond happy, if only slightly.

“Very well,” Aemond offered a curt bow to her dragon. “Until we meet again, Darrax. Come, Lina.”

She grabbed her leather glove from where she had left it, and carefully pulled it over the curled fingers of her left hand. The glove was itchy and uncomfortable, but she had only been able to handle a few months of mutterings about how unpleasant her hand was to look at before she gave in to Queen Alicent’s suggestion and began to wear a glove. Any chance she got to take if off, she did.

The two linked arms as they made their way up from the tunnels and toward the center of the Dragon Pit, Aelinor cheerfully greeting each of the keeps as they passed. In the past few years, the nine-year-old princess and the twelve-year-old prince had become a familiar sight to the keeps, more often than not attached at the hip. It was common knowledge that if Aemond Targaryen was sulking around the Dragon Pit, one just needed to guide him to the princess to drastically improve his mood. There was some hope among the more concerned dragon keepers that her influence might calm him from his relentless and reckless determination to claim a dragon.

“My mother should have had her baby by now,” Aelinor commented.

“And you did not wish to be there?”

“She said it would frighten me,” Aelinor wrinkled her nose. “But how should I know what frightens me unless I have seen it?”

Aemond could not claim to have seen the horrors of childbirth, but he could vividly remember that day in Princess Rhaenyra’s chambers all those years ago, when he had seen a silver-haired babe while servants mopped blood off the floors. No, he did not think Aelinor should have to see all that.

“Do you know what I’ve heard?” He decided to distract her.

“What?”

He nodded toward her good hand, which was playing with the sapphire that hung on a gold chain around her neck. “I heard that it is the fashion for ladies to wear matching rings and earrings and all the like. Now, I don’t know much about jewels, but I worry you are falling out of fashion.”

Aelinor gasped. “Aemond!”

He gave an exaggerated shrug. “I shall have no choice but to remedy the situation on your next nameday.”

She shook her head. “Don’t you dare. You already give me too much. Besides, I don’t like jewelry. I just like this.”

Aemond felt his heart warm a little at that. “Alright, Princess. Then let’s go watch our brothers make fools of themselves.”

“Yes, let’s!”

An hour later found Aemond still in the Dragon Put, watching as Jace tried and failed to tame Vermax. The princes’ arrival had brought the news of a new little brother for the Velaryons, and Aelinor had been excused for the day to go and greet the new arrival.

Aemond tried not to mope, but being left in the company of his nephews and brother, all of whom had dragons, was less than ideal. Not when he knew that he would be so much better at this than all of them. Aelinor was the only one other than him who truly understood what it meant to be a dragon rider, but because of her damn brothers, she would never be able to reach her full potential. And he would never get to fly at all.

“We have a gift for you, uncle,” Luc called out to him.

Aemond looked up, disbelief etched on his face. “You? A gift?”

“From all of us,” Aegon wrapped an arm around Jace, who still looked a bit dejected by his pathetic failures. “Found, in a cave off of the Narrow Sea, and brought here especially for you.”

He knew better, or he should have, but he still felt something like hope stirring in his gut. Was this his chance? Was he finally going to have a dragon of his own?

“Behold,” Luc walked backward, and Aemond followed him like a hopeful idiot. “The Pink Dread!”

Aemond’s hopes crashed to the ground when they leapt to the side, revealing a fat pig with wings strapped to its back.

“How could you? You—” the word bastards hung in the back of his throat, but he didn’t say it. Instead, he just returned to his corner to sulk, bitter at the world. Of course Aegon, his own brother, had to join in with them. It wasn’t fair, none of it was.

After her mother had retired to her chambers, Aelinor had set up at the large writing desk in front of the window. The only other source of light in the room was the blazing hearth, which was currently going at full strength to keep her mother and the baby warm. But as it was the very same hearth that had horrifically scarred her hand, she did not like to sit by it unless she had to.

Aelinor did not have the dexterity needed for needlework, or many of the other ladylike pursuits, though she was very fond of dancing, but she had always been an extraordinary patient child. Her grandfather, the King, had in the weeks after her injury taken the time to show her how to paint his figurines with one hand. He carved them himself, very carefully as he too had only one good hand (now he was missing an arm entirely), and so he had set his youngest granddaughter to the task of painting them. His model of Old Valyria grew increasingly colorful with each of her contributions.

Currently she was applying silver paint to a statue of the Valyrian god Vhagar, taking care to apply each stroke of paint in very thin layers.

“Did you see his face?” Her brothers came bursting through the doors, and she quickly moved to secure her painting. It had happened on more than one occasion that their rowdy behaviour ruined one of her projects.

“Be quiet, you two,” she hissed. “Mother and the baby are sleeping.” The baby, Joffrey, had been wholly uninteresting to Aelinor, but her mother was exhausted, and she was determined to preserve that peace.

“You should have stayed, Lina,” Luc came up to her side. Of her two brothers he was the more mischievous, having latched onto Aemond’s nickname for her as a way to poke fun. She loved him, of course, but gods he could be irritating. “Our trick worked perfectly.”

“Trick? What trick?” She wiped her hands on her apron.

“On Aemond,” Luc laughed. “We had a pig, with wings on it! I thought he was going to cry.”

Aelinor saw red. “You did what? Why can’t you both just leave him alone?”

“It was Aegon’s idea,” Jace said quickly, probably just because his sister was upset, not because he genuinely felt sorry for Aemond. “And we didn’t ask him to go down into the pit. That was all him.”

She felt a twinge of worry. “Is he alright?”

“A bit singed, and embarrassed. But alright.” Jace assured her.

Aelinor frowned, turning back to her painting. She hated that their families could not just get along, and she hated that the boys teased Aemond over something she knew hurt him so deeply. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The knowledge of that was the only reason she did not run to Aemond immediately, as she knew he would have done for her. He would be embarrassed, and he did not like for her to witness his humiliation.

Tomorrow she would go to him, and everything would be alright.

Aelinor spent the next morning sitting on the floor of Helaena’s room, listening to her aunt’s description of a centipede that crawled through her hands. Her aunt was harmless, but Aelinor was certainly not a fan of the bugs.

“Running, running through the dark.” Helaena let the centipede twirl around her wrist. “But never fast enough.”

Aelinor was bored. More than that, she was worried. She had not had a chance to speak with Aemond that morning, and now she knew he would be out in the training yard with Aegon and her brothers. She wanted to make sure he was alright, but she couldn’t do that from in here.

“You may go,” Helaena said.

“What?” Aelinor was started to find her aunt staring directly at her.

“I won’t keep you apart. Others will, but not me.”

Aelinor blinked. “Uh, thank you?” Her aunt was very strange.

Helaena didn’t look up as Aelinor stood and brushed out the lavender velvet of her dress. “Blood and bars and iron.” Helaena sang.

Aelinor was a little embarrassed at how quickly she fled the room. She never quite got used to Helaena’s oddness, and her words always left a chill on Aelinor’s skin. Something about it was just…wrong.

When she emerged into the training yard, she stepped into a chaotic scene. Ser Harwin Strong, her mother’s Kingsguard, was being restrained by three other guards, while Ser Criston Cole taunted him. The boys lay scattered through the mud. She went to JAce first, who had blood running from his nose. “What on earth has happened?”

Jace just shook his head. “Things you wouldn’t understand.”

That answer annoyed Aelinor. Why couldn’t she understand? Just because she was younger than him? It wasn’t fair, and she gave him a shove. “You’re so mean, Jace.”

“What’s wrong?” Aemond appeared beside her, having seen her grow angry at her brother.

“Of course you’re here,” Jace scoffed.

“You were….” Aelinor looked between them, confused. “You were all training together. Why do you look like you’ve been fighting?”

“Just go play with your stupid prince, Aelinor. Since you don’t care about your real family.” Jace gave her a dirty look, before grabbing Luc around the arm and pulling him away.

Aelinor was at a loss. “What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything,” Aemond promised. He still didn’t fully understand what had happened here either, between Ser Criston and Ser Harwin, but he knew it had been serious. “Everyone is just angry today.”

“And you!” Aelinor whirled to face him, remembering why she had sought him out. “Are you angry? Because I heard you went into the Dragon Pit by yourself again.”

Aemond floundered for a response. “I…they had a pig and it…”

“You can’t, Aemond! Just because you don’t have a dragon doesn’t mean you can be stupid.”

For the first time in his life, Aemond felt himself growing angry at Aelinor. What did she know of his suffering? She had always had a dragon, and she would never have to fight for her place. Everything was just handed to her, often by him, and yet she thought she could tell him what to do with his own life. It was absurd.

“Just shut up, Aelinor. You’re too little to get it.”

Aemond gaped at him, hurt etched across her face. “Aemond…”

He stormed away, leaving her standing alone in the training yard.

Aelinor liked to think that she was too old to be weeping at every little thing, but the thought of fighting with Aemond, of him being angry with her, was enough to have her sobbing all the way back to her family’s chambers. She hadn’t meant to make him angry, only she was so very worried about him. Why couldn’t he understand how important he was to her?

When she stepped into the parlor, her mother looked up from her seat by the fire. The baby was nowhere to be seen, but several maids were bustling around, packing things in wooden crates.

“Oh, my sweet,” Rhaenyra reached for her, and she went easily into her mother’s embrace. “They’ve already told you?”

“Told me what?” Aelinor’s voice was muffled by her mother’s shoulder.

“That we’re leaving, darling,” Rhaenyra tried to wipe her tears. “On the morrow, we leave for Dragonstone.”

Aelinor gasped. “What? Why?” She had never been to Dragonstone, but it sounded very far away from King’s Landing.

“It is for the best,” is all her mother said. “We’ll be leaving before sun-up so that we have most of the day to settle in.”

“Before sun up?” Aelinor shook her head. “Mother, can I stay here? With Darrax and Aemond and Helaena.” She might think her aunt odd, but she was her closest female friend, and Aelinor found she did not want to be without her.

“No,” Rhaenyra’s voice was harsh. “Darrax will come with us, but it is time that our family was left alone, and I know Aemond and Helaena’s mother will want the same.”

Aelinor didn’t much care what their mothers wanted. All she could think about was that she would be leaving tomorrow, without Aemond. “Can I go and say goodbye?”

“It’s late, darling. “You must sleep, for we have an early day and much preparations to do.”

“But—”

“No arguments, Aelinor. Go to your chambers and help the maids pack your things.”

Had Aelinor been stronger, or had she not been in some kind of shock, she might have argued more. But she was a tired little girl after a very trying day, and so she obeyed her mother. And when the sun was barely peeking over the horizon, she let her father bundle her in her cloak and carry her to their ship. It wasn’t until King’s Landing was a speck in the distance that she began to cry, for she hadn’t been able to say goodbye.

Aemond woke early, with a heart filled with regret. The sun was shining through his window, heralding a new day, though he could not find any joy in it. He had been cruel to Aelinor, when she had done nothing to deserve it, and he must make it up to her. Remembering her refusal to accept more jewels, he resolved to collect some fresh flowers from the gardens. She often liked to braid them into her hair (and sometimes his as well), and today he would allow it. If he groveled enough, he could probably retrieve some lemon tarts from the kitchens as well.

His mother was pacing in front of her window when he entered, planning to inform her of his intentions for the day.

“Is something the matter, mother?” He asked, noting the tension in her mouth.

“Oh, everything’s a mess, Aemond,” she sighed, giving him a sad look. “The Princess Rhaenyra and her family are to remove themselves to Dragonstone at once.”

Aemond froze, horror flooding through him. “They can’t!” He couldn’t bear for Aelinor to be all the way on Dragonstone. It was only a short flight by Dragon, but he did not have one, and Aelinor could not fly. “I shall go stop them!”

“It’s too late, sweet boy,” Alicent sighed. “They have already left.”

Aemond shook his head, tearing from the room, but he only needed to reach the base of Maegor’s tower to see that it was true. Tapestries and carpets and trunks were being carried down the steps, to be packed onto the next ship to Dragonstone.

And Aelinor was already gone.

Some Time Later

Daemon Targaryen was her father.

The moment Aelinor first set eyes on him, standing across from her Aunt Laena’s casket, she knew it to be true. She could tell from the set of his mouth, which seemed so similar to her’s, as it had never been to her mother of…Ser Laenor’s. She knew it from the violet of his eyes, which shone with the same brightness as her own, so much more wildly than her mother’s.

And most of all, she knew it from how he stared at her. She could not tell if he was attempting to mask his grief with boredom, but his gaze had been leveled on her since the moment Ser Vaemond began the eulogy. 

It wasn’t as though no one was looking their way. Especially as Ser Vaemond took the opportunity of the funeral, and the immunity it provided, to cast thinly-veiled insults at her family. They had all but fled King’s Landing for reasons she still did not understand, so it was not a surprise that they were an object of fascination. But Prince Daemon’s gaze was not one of curiosity. It was….more. She wasn’t quite sure why it unsettled her so.

Aelinor was almost embarrassed to admit that she had ben excited to go to Driftmark. Not to mourn her Aunt, who she had admired deeply despite having never met, but because Aemond, Helaena and her grandfather would be there. She had longed to see them all in the months since they had departed King’s Landing, and she had so much to share.

And now…she needed to speak to Aemond.

But he wouldn’t look at her. There had been no chance to talk upon arrival, and she had not been able to catch his gaze throughout the service. He just stood next to Aegon, who was looking predictably bored, and kept a serious expression on his face. 

The first chance she had, she would pull him aside.

Aemond couldn’t look at her.

She was so close, so much closer than she had been in months, just standing on the other side of the casket, and he couldn’t work up the courage to look at her. He could feel her eyes on him, but he couldn’t do it. He didn’t deserve it.

Not when she stood there, wearing a dress of black velvet and a matching cloak, her silver hair in a neat plait down her back, and her sapphire pendant hanging at her throat. She was still wearing it. By some miracle, Aelinor was still wearing the sapphire he had given her, even when the last thing he had said to her before she had left had been cruel and harsh.

The past months had been an agony to him. Without Aelinor around, there was little to lessen the overwhelming feeling of being an outsider in his own family. He had thrown himself into his training, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. No matter how many times he let himself get walloped with a practice sword, or the few times where he managed to strike back with any skill, it was never enough to distract him from the fact that at the end of the day, he was alone. And any time he had asked his mother or his grandfather for permission to write to her, he had been turned away. Their reasons changed constantly, from wanting to give the Princess Rhaenyra her space, to more snide comments about keeping their distance.

He knew the real reason, of course. After the Princess’ family had left, rumors had abounded about the parentage of her three children, and his mother had not hesitated to capitalize on them. He did not mind so much when people criticized Jacaerys and Lucerys, not when they so obviously looked like Strongs, but Aelinor was…Aelinor. She might not have been her father’s daughter, but she was still a Targaryen, as much as the rest of them. As much as…him. She wasn’t like the rest of her family, overrun with scandal. She was just Aelinor.

She was just….his. 

Aelinor had meant to find Aemond as soon as the funeral service was over, but as soon as she emerged into the courtyard, having left her cloak with one of the maids, her gaze landed on a long figure overlooking the ocean. She saw her mother out of the corner of her eye, met her gaze and saw Rhaenyra shake her head, but ultimately she was helpless to stop herself as her legs carried her toward Prince Daemon.

“Which one are you?” Daemon didn’t turn to look at her.

He was quite tall, with broad shoulders and a serious profile. He was not as pretty as Ser Laenor, but she supposed there was something appealing about the harsh lines in his face. That was not enough to keep the rest of the guests from avoiding him as if he were the plague.

“I am Aelinor,” she declared. “And you are my father.”

He didn’t look startled by her declaration. “You put that together, did you? Perhaps there is some hope for you after all.”

Aelinor didn’t quite know how to take that. Instead, she said, “Your wife died.”

“She did,” his jaw clenched.

“Then if you are sad, I am sorry,” she offered a small smile, even though he was not looking at her. “And I hope I shall come to know you, and your daughters.”

Bobbing a curtsy, and feeling as though she had satisfied whatever insane urge had demanded she speak to him, she moved to leave.

“Aelinor, was it?” She froze.

Daemon spun to look at her, and she was once again struck by the startling resemblance between them. She thought she might have seen the slightest softening in his eyes, and if he saw some of himself in her as well. “Do you have a dragon?”

“I do,” she lifted her chin defiantly. “He is called Darrax, and I can ride him now, but not for long.”

This seemed to satisfy him, for he jerked his head in a nod. Taking that as a dismissal, Aelinor moved around the edge of the party. Her brothers stood with their cousins, Baela and Rhaena. She wanted to go and talk to the girls, offer her condolences and welcome them into the family, but she had been somewhat at odds with her brothers since they moved to Dragonstone. She knew they were mourning Ser Harwin Strong, differently than she was. He had always been a comforting presence for her, closer to an uncle than a guard, but she knew that he represented a lot more to her brothers, and she was not without sympathy. But she could not escape the feeling that it was somehow their fault that she had been forced to leave everything behind. This sentiment was wrong of course, but as she was only nine, it was easiest to point fingers at things she understood.

Her brothers and cousins would have to wait, however, for she spotted the person she had been most anxious to see waiting by the stairs.

The urge to run to him was strong, but she managed to contain herself, nodding politely to her grandfather as she hurried toward him.

“Aemond,” she breathed as soon as she was next to him. “You’re here.”

She was close enough to touch. Aelinro was standing right there, a warm smile on her face, though her happy expression faded with every second he didn’t return her joy.

“Aelinor,” he nodded. “It’s good to see you.”

She deflated. “It’s good to see me? We haven’t seen each other in months. Darrax has grown and I—”

The urge to interrupt her, to spit that he didn’t care about her dragon nearly overcame him. He had been conditioned from the months of fending off his brother’s taunts, of feigning indifference in order to get by.

But this was Lina, and the truth was, he did care. He cared too much.

“Why don’t you hate me?” he asked. “I was cruel to you.”

Aelinor blinked at him for a moment, before an easy smile settled across her face. “No silly. You were mean to me. And you were mean because you were sad. You could never be cruel to me, you’re Aemond.” She said it like it was enough, as if being Aemond was some sort of testament to his character. But she was only nine, and he was twelve and so things seemed much simpler than they were.

“No, Aelinor. I should never have been mean to you, and then you were gone and I—”

“But I’m back now,” she grabbed his hand. “And I don’t want to waste any time, alright?”

There were a thousand other things he wanted to say, most of all that he agreed. He didn’t want to waste any time because who knew when they would next get to see each other. The sun was already setting, and he had wasted most of the day being sullen and bitter.

A dragon roared in the distance, and they both turned their heads.

“Vhagar,” Aelinor said sadly. “She must be lonely.”

The idea struck Aemond like a thunderbolt, and once it was in his mind, he could not forget it. He knew what he must do. It was clear as day in front of him, clearer than anything had ever been in his whole life.

“Lina,” he said quietly, watching as she beamed at his nickname for her. “Can we go for a walk? I need to ask you something.”

“You don’t need to ask,” she giggled, looking behind her. “Come, no one notice that we’ve gone.”

No one looked up as the two children slipped away, their hands intertwined, For Aelinor, it felt almost like hold times, with her and Aemond in a world of their own, She didn’t know where they were going, or have any idea of what might happen next, but she was happy.

But the boy next to her, even as he helped her down the last step and they moved out onto the beach, couldn’t help but be consumed with something between ecstasy and dread. Like it or not, he was about to decide his fate.

And Aelinor would be with him, every step of the way.

Aelinor could tell that something was wrong. Aemond wasn’t speaking, not a single word had escaped his lips since they slipped away from the party, and she was starting to suspect that it was more than his usually sullen self. She longed to tell him about Darrax, about how they had finally figured out a way for her to hold the reins and that she had gone flying for the first time, but he just seemed so…distant.

“Where are we going?” She asked, as they approached the sand dunes. “It’s very late.” Only the light of the moon kept it from being pitch black, and still Aemond moved forward. Her feet slipped in the sand, the silk shoes she had worn for the funeral not suited to climbing through tidal pools and mucky sand.

Aemond stopped suddenly, pausing to listen for something. “Do you hear that?”

A little perturbed that he had ignored her question, Aelinor huffed and tried to listen. At first she couldn’t hear much other than the sound of the wind and the waves crashing in the distance, but soon another sound broke through. It was a low, rhythmic rumble, that she recognized to be the breathing of a very, very large dragon.

“Vhagar?” She gasped. “Aemond, we should go back. This is dangerous.”

“It is,” he agreed. “Which is why I shouldn’t have brought you here.” He pointed toward the cliff face a short distance away, where a dim orange glow could be seen from one of the tunnels. “Go hide over there, I’ll be right back.”

“What are you doing?” She grabbed his arm. “Don’t leave me out here!”

“You’ll be safe, and I’ll be right back.” 

He considered lying to her about his motivations. It would be easier to lie, for him to surprise her with his triumphant return, and not have to face her if he failed. But he could not be dishonest with her, especially about this. No one — no one — understood him better than Aelinor.

“I’m going to claim Vhagar,” he told her. “Or I’m going to die trying.”

These were very frightening words for a nine year old, and for Aelinor they were even more terrifying. She had just gotten Aemond back, and she couldn’t imagine ever losing him. But she knew he wanted a dragon more than anything else in the world, and she knew how hard it had been for him.

“Shouldn’t…” she fumbled for an argument. “Shouldn’t Baela have first claim? Vhagar was her mother’s dragon.”

“And she was Visenya’s before that. She belongs to the Targaryens, and we should all have equal claim,” Aemond saw that she wasn’t convinced. “Please, Lina. If I fail then the chance is Baela’s, but I have my chance, perhaps my only chance, right here. Please let me take it.”

Let me. Like he truly wouldn’t do it if she refused him.

“You could get hurt,” she whispered.

Aemond nodded. “Please.”

This was an impossible thing to ask of her. She was only nine years old, and things like life and death still seemed so far away from her. She didn’t want to risk losing Aemond, but she had also never been denied something that she had wanted. He had always made sure that she wanted for nothing. How could she now stand in his way, when he was all but begging her to stand aside.

Aelinor sighed, a shaky breath that was part fear and part exasperation. “You paid attention in our lessons, you have as good a chance as anyone. But please be careful.”

Aemond breathed a sigh of relief.

“I will,” he promised. “Can you just…keep watch? In case the others wake up?” He wasn’t sure what others he was expecting, but he knew it would cause a commotion if he were to claim — or be eaten — by Vhagar.

“They’ll be angry,” Aelinor shook her head. “Aemond, never mind Baela and Rhaena, my brothers will—”

“You’ll just be keeping watch, Lina. and you don’t have to. You can go to bed, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

They both knew that that wasn’t really an option. She would never be able to sleep without knowing if he was alright, and it was unlikely that he would be able to pull this off without someone keeping watch.

“I’ll do it,” she said quietly. “Please, please be careful, Aemond. I can’t lose you.”

He wanted to wrap her in a hug, but he knew that if he did he would probably lose his nerve. “I’ll come back to you Lina, I swear it.”

Knowing that he had never broken a promise to her, she took a deep breath and nodded. “Go. I’ll be by the tunnel when you get back.”

Aemond forced a smile, not letting it slide from his face until she had disappeared into the shadows at the base of the cliff.

And then he started his climb.

Aelinor thought she might faint. She had no idea how much time had passed since Aemond had disappeared over the sand dune, and she was fighting every instinct to run after him and stop him from being so foolish. Her fingernails had cut into her palms from the nerves, and she felt like she was close to tears.

Nestled just outside the mouth of the tunnel, she was sheltered from the worst of the night wind. She was fairly sure that the chill seeping into her skin had nothing to do with the temperature, and everything to do with the terror flooding her veins.

All of a sudden, she heard a great stirring of wind. Peeking out into the moonlight, her mouth dropped open as she watched Vhagar take to the skies, Aemond on her back.

And then she was sobbing.

He had done it! He was really flying!

Clasping both hands to her mouth to keep from crying out, Aelinor jumped up and down. He was doing it! Soon they would be able to fly their dragons together, and everything would be perfect.

She could hear Aemond yelling, hopefully from joy, before Vhagar circled back down.

[yolkochan]

Advanced Perspective Critique (+ tips & tricks)

Original artwork submitted by @soleilonthesun

This is a large post critiquing (also perspective tips) this artwork submitted by one of my friends, I’m not a professional art teacher but I’m willing to share my knowledge with the internet :)

I will assume that you know the basics of perspective and will be moving on more advanced stuff. If you’d like me to critique your artwork, just send me a dm or an ask.

Some basic tips to start off with.

Use a small pen size so you can be more accurate with perspective.

Use the line tool if you are allowed to, don’t freehand this.

Always draw the horizon line first before you begin a perspective drawing and draw “outside” of the actual canvas since vanishing points are usually far outside of it if you want to do a close up of a building/room. You can enlarge your drawing area in later stages after you’re done sketching.

Try to draw within this safe area (rhombus) between the vanishing points (an acute angle, about 60-70 degrees). I recommend this because if you draw outside this area there will be extreme warping to the objects that you’re drawing.

When I was trying to draw out the box of your room, I noticed that the edges of the room were outside of the vanishing points, causing this extreme type of warping — making it impossible to connect the edges of the room into a complete box. I think this may have happened due to you drawing the inner faces of the box first (which is risky) instead of the outer faces.

Drawing the outer faces first is the easiest way to draw a box in 2pp.

The first thing I noticed is how different the perspective of the floor is compared to the room so I tried finding the horizon line + vanishing points of the room (even though the perspective of the room itself is extremely warped in the first place lol). The floor will always be at the same vanishing point(s) as the room it’s in.

Tips on drawing objects inside rooms:

Objects on the floor/floating can be at different vanishing points compared to the room but they still have to be on the same horizon line. I see you attempted to do this with the bench here.

Objects attached to walls (posters, clocks, shelfs) must have their vanishing points the same as the room otherwise it will not look like it’s attached to the wall. (This also applies to hinging doors and physically hanging items attached to the ceiling like chandeliers)

One of the things I changed was the pillar since it seemed like it wasn’t touching the ceiling properly even before I adjusted the walls edges to fit the perspective. Even though the edited pillar now technically fits the perspective in the edit, the front side of the pillar being parallel to the viewer’s eyes can be off-putting since pillars aren’t normally constructed like that (they’re mainly always cuboids or cylinders) — so I also made another alternative edit.

Ellipses in perspective is particularly too complex to explain in one post but the main thing about it is that it will ALWAYS stay a perfect ellipse no matter the orientation (assuming there’s no extreme warping or curvilinear perspective) — it will never turn into an oval like this. Practicing and drawing cylinders will help you break off this habit. I reconstructed this bucket in particular to fit in with the perspective better.

This video by @drawsh and infographic explains it way better than me.

Here is also another video by @stanprokopenko that explains how to draw a cylinder easily.

Final edit

End note

Obviously I can’t change everything in this drawing but I hope I made the perspective less inconsistent for you. To get better at perspective (or well anything really), you just need to practice it more, drawing more backgrounds and objects and such — you’ll improve very quickly. I saw that you put in a lot of detail into this drawing and I was really impressed!

But since this was a perspective assignment, you may have gotten not so great grades due to the inaccuracy. When it comes to perspective, you have to be strict with yourself and try not to “guess” stuff. I recommend drawing less detailed backgrounds as practice more often. I hope this explanation and critique helps you on your art journey :) (and also better grades lol)

[maddiviner]

Reading Journals!? Why You Really Should!!

I'm writing this to promote the concept of reading journals in general for occultists! 

It often seems like, while a lot of us read a ton, we don't engage enough with what we read. It's very important to think critically about the information we consume.

Keeping records of it can be helpful for that. While not everyone's going to vibe with it, I do recommend giving it a try for most witches, diviners, wizards, etc... you might like it. Keeping a reading journal? It has some advantages IMHO.

I found it works very well for keeping track of my reading goals. It also helped me engage more with what I was reading. I think this produced an altogether more interesting experience when reading fiction, too.

I learned more when reading nonfiction, and it helped prep reviews for this very website, too. It's kind of hard recently, because of health issues, but I want to keep a daily reading habit as best I can. I might change up my journaling format, though, which I'll discuss towards the end of this article.

To begin, you need a journal. Any blank notebook will work. A lot of people swear by dot grid journals. I use those for most other things. For my reading journal, I bought a pre-printed one called Kunitsa, and there are others on the market, too.

Beyond that, you only need a pen. I use a lot of highlighters and other color in my reading journal, to make tracking things more fun. Next, you're going to want to include a table of contents for your reading journal if possible. In fact, I recommend doing that for all journals, but that's another story entirely. If you pick a pre-printed reading journal like mine, choose one with such a feature.

If you're a DIYer, leave a few blank pages at the beginning of your notebook for the table of contents. Usually four or five pages will do for a table of contents, depending on the size of the journal itself. Including a table of contents can also help get past those first-page jitters if it's a blank book.

A reading journal can include an inventory of your library. My own library is digital because I have to cross the Atlantic on a frequent basis. Those with physical books might find it useful to catalogue everything, particularly favorites.

This could even include where it's stashed. Given that I could easily print a list of mine, my journal doesn't have this, but yours could. You could also organize your library based on the criteria of your choice. I do this digitally, and it can be great to be able to pull out a list of (for example) all the Tarot books I own, favorites, etc..

Keep track of your reading goals! This is the big one, of course. I try to read at least thirty minutes per day, and I log each day I meet that goal. A reading journal can include a simple daily reading tracker like mine, or variations on that.

Some people might track how many pages they've read, or even chapters, for example. You can, of course, include your To Be Read list, adding to it and crossing out as needed.

Keep track of books, authors and topics. You'll want to include a page or two for each book you read, with meaningful quotations and your own thoughts. Some people get quite elaborate with this, including diagrams, images, and such.

I stick to quoting the parts I found important, then adding my own notes. If you buy a reading journal, choose one formatted for both fiction and nonfiction. These little "spreads" on each book help a ton if you want to prepare reviews later on, or just to keep track of what you’ve read for the future.

The reading journal I've been using has a section for borrowed books. Since all my books are Kindle, and I don't typically borrow books, I repurposed this for my review schedule. You can create your own spread for that kind of thing if you're doing a DIY approach, which would be even better.

Because I didn't see a use for the first two pages of the notebook, I turned them into a little pocket using washi tape. I figure that if necessary, I can include extra trackers/etc on my own paper in the pocket. I haven't done that yet, but I probably will in the new year. Currently, the pocket only contains some unused stickers.

You could, of course, get much more complicated with a reading journal! It's all up to you. I plan to use a similar setup next time around, but doing it myself in a (larger) dot grid notebook. The preprinted version of a reading journal worked well to get me started. Now that I've got the basics figured out, I want to customize things more.

All and all, I know most occultists love journaling. At least, many of us do. But why don't more of us journal about what we read? Dedicating a notebook just for a reading journal worked great for me, and might work for you, too.

I'd look into different options (preprinted, blank notebooks, digital) before getting started. Don't be afraid to mess up, like with any new notebook. It can become a way of looking deeper into what you're reading, though.

[olderjodijournals]

Thursday, February 2, 1995

 

Our winter here is definitely on its way out. It was 82º today and it’ll be 84º tomorrow. I laid out in the sun today and yesterday for about an hour. I began to get sun poisoning on my thighs, though, so I have to not lay out, but I can still go out and do whatever. I do have more color, though.

Yesterday I finished typing 36 and now have 50 journals typed up. It’s amazing that I’ve typed up my life on Oswego St. and Woodside Terrace in Springfield, then S. Deerfield and Norwich. Then the two apartments I was in at the Vista and now I’m right where I just moved in Crystal and just met Tom.

Larry called last night. Sandy and Jennifer got their cards yesterday. I talked to all 4 of them there and I was laughing at Sandy. We’ve been having beautiful weather and it’s freezing there.

Larry and I exchanged jokes as usual.

That tennis player Martina Navratilova was found drowned.

They found her face down on Ricki Lake.

After a cigarette break and a change of pens, I’ll write more bad news about my ear.

Later...

The doctor was worried that this plastic thing they put in my ear frame in Boston may poke through. Well, it did, so now I may have to see a plastic surgeon cuz he only deals with the inner ear. Great. Just great. I’ve really had enough of this. It makes me just want to forget about continuing on with my ear, fuck the dentist, and fuck having a kid. I don’t really know if I’m even gonna bother with my two appointments next week. If I did, it’d only be cuz of how much it means to Tom.

I talked with Tammy today who didn’t get a call from Larry last night. I knew she talked to little Larry a few times and I had thought she had also talked to Sandy and Jenny, but she’s never talked to them.

Saturday, February 4, 1995

 

Where shall I start tonight with my update? Well, yesterday Tom and I went out and he got his hair trimmed. He has curly hair and when you pulled it straight it was in between his neck and the middle of his back. He got a few inches trimmed, but it’s still kind of long.

We went to the library. He got a book on how to fix CD players and has begun fixing the CD player I had bought with my rent deposit from Russ. That was the very end of March of ’91, a few days before I moved to S. Deerfield. I got a regular-print mystery book and a large-print romance novel. Large print is really cool, but I just couldn’t get into this romance book, so I’ve just begun the mystery.

While he was getting his haircut, I went to the art store nearby with a $20 bill he gave me. There I got another silk-like flower and a long leafy vine-like thing. I’ve got that strung across the living room/hall doorway. We still plan to get some wire mesh someday, more flowers little by little, and build an arc of flowers in one of the doorways.

I also got a mug with a picture of a collie. They have tons of dog mugs there and little by little I’d like to replace my mugs with them.

Lastly, I got a 500-piece puzzle of a piano, sheet music & violin. They had several nice puzzles and I’m almost done with the one I’ve been doing. No more 1000-piece puzzles, though. They’re a pain in the ass. Especially on a regular-size table with no room to spread out the pieces to see them better.

Tom picked up tax forms at the PO after his hair was done.

Tom showed me where the nearest regular mailbox is. It isn’t too far from here, but I still wish there were one on this street corner.

Today Tom and I went to Scottsdale (Snottsdale) for a job fair at Wells Fargo Bank. He wasn’t impressed at all and said they pay pretty shitty dough.

Later...

Next door has been wonderful. The last week has been warm to even kind of hot in the low 80s. I was really afraid I’d get no peace out back, but all’s been just great. They’re moved to the front of the house as they do at this time of year. Why I don’t know, but there’s been no ear-piercing screaming or ball games.

Got another Prodigy letter from Alex and I replied back.

Tammy told me about a week ago she’d put some recipes on Prodigy. Yeah, right. Does she ever do anything she says she’s gonna do? Not since I’ve been out here.

Late last night I rearranged the living room. I was afraid it might be a bitch, but it was a piece of cake. It looks really nice, but we still want and could use an entertainment center.

Tuesday, February 7, 1995

 

I haven’t been as consistent with my writing lately, have I? Where do I begin now? Well, with whatever comes to mind, I guess.

Very late Sunday night I was talking with Andy. He called the Springfield weather line and I called his machine so we could tape it. Sure enough, it was 0º with an expected high for the next day only in the middle teens. We were cracking up and I played the tape for Tom and Tammy after I taped it onto a regular tape. At that time it was 62º here with an expected high of 82º for the next day.

I laid out today, but not for very long at all. It only takes me about 45 minutes to start getting sun poisoning.

Next door’s been great.

Got a message from Alex the other day and a letter from Kim. She had also enclosed a “love letter” she got from Bob who I haven’t been hearing from too much.

Yesterday I finished that 1000-piece puzzle and am almost done with the 500-piece one.

I have been having to set my clock for noon so as to be able to make it to my appointment OK. It’s been hard, but I’ve been doing it.

Later...

Wow! I guess I really can tell when I’m ovulating. The book said something about slight quick cramps and higher temperatures. Also, your fluids are runnier. I thought this would normally all happen at once, but about 4-5 days ago I was “runny” for a few days. Then two days ago I had a few cramps and right now, 14 days after my period, my temperature’s 99.1.

Not surprisingly, Tom’s beat and is going to bed.

When I’m mid-cycle, he gives off just as many mixed messages about having a kid as I sometimes do, though not nearly as much as he does. I’m sure everyone does this at some point, but I can think of lots of things he’s said to indicate he does want a kid and lots of things he’s said to indicate he doesn’t. He’s told me that he likes the idea of it being 1996 and my being 30 when we have a kid. Therefore, maybe in April or May, he’ll let himself cum. He’s still “always close.” If he doesn’t cum by April or May then I’ll wonder if he really does want one, even though he says he does, or if there’s anything wrong with him. He’s said he’s cum before, so I still assume he’s holding off.

We did screw around last night and it was great. Once again I was able to cum as long as I fingered my clit.

Tomorrow evening I’ll take my temperature again to see if the higher temp lingers on and for how long.

Later...

Tom and I had a productive talk before he went to bed. We always communicate and talk, but this was different and I’m glad to be enlightened, so to speak. As smart as I am, I felt really bad and stupid for not understanding a certain thing, but Tom told me not to think I did anything wrong or bad. He said he wants a kid really bad, but to understand how pressure can make things hard for you, even if it’s all about something you want to do. I want to be more of a day person, but it can be stressful. I want to cut down on my smoking, but that can be stressful, too. He said if I just wait two months, I’ll be pregnant. I’m so so so sorry if I’ve appeared to be pressuring this man. He understands, though, that I never meant to pressure him and that’s OK to discuss something you’re interested in (despite my fears about it) like how he and I constantly gab about computers and music. I didn’t realize that this is a different kind of pressure and I’m glad I can see that now for both of our sakes. Otherwise, he and I are doing fine and getting along just great.

Tom’s hairdresser had really nice long beautiful hair. Mine’s an inch away from the crack of my ass, but she really inspired me to keep up on mine. I sat back and said to myself, hey, why are you doing this? Why are you neglecting your hair when you don’t have to worry about money and you’ve got a perfect hairdresser living right here 24/7? So, on March 1st, I’ll probably have Tom take 2” off. Then 1” every 6 weeks. I’ve been using the detangler which is very heavy. She recommended something called Ensure by Nexus and says it’s lighter and works better.

Wednesday, February 8, 1995

 

I got 15 minutes of him playing van next door for the first time in a week or two. Must be my compensation for the kids being quieter, but I’ll take that over the kids. The guy’s so weird, though. Must’ve been doing something he didn’t want his family to see. Or maybe he was taking his sweet time as far as entering a house with a million screaming kids after a long day of work.

Yesterday I finished typing up 37 and began 42 today. All the ones between 37-42 are either done or just letters.

Amazingly enough, I pulled myself out of bed around noon again today. Can’t believe I’ve been holding the same schedule now for over a week. Tom’s gonna wake me up tomorrow shortly after noon. I have those two appointments tomorrow. I am not looking forward to them!

I had pork chops and tater tots ready for when Tom got home. I did my nails and vacuumed after Tom fixed the vacuum, and that’s really about all. I’m not in the mood to read or finish up the puzzle, so I guess I’ll go do some computer work.

I wish I had been more organized when I first began editing. I should’ve made a list and edited one convo at a time. Due to my having jumped around so much, who the hell knows where I am? I believe I’ve edited almost everything I’ve got and am far from being as backed up as I thought.

Thursday, February 9, 1995

 

Got a Valentine’s card for both of us from mom and dad and a letter from Bob.

In the car, on our way out to the appointments, I nearly killed Tom with this journal. The sun reflected in his eyes, nearly blinding him.

Actually, I really want to go get some letters written. Typed, I mean, so I’ll come back later and write.

Later...

OK, all about my appointment now. My hearing has increased by almost ½, but it could’ve been better if my ear canal wasn’t squished shut. The inner ear is still looking great and the skin graft has healed well, even though it’s not as thick as he’d like it to be. In 4-6 weeks he does have to operate again to re-open the outer ear canal. The good news is that this operation will take only two hours and not 5. Recovery will be speedy and virtually painless. Nowhere near as rough as the last time. No pressure strap either! I hated that thing. He thinks that that’s what may have caused the plastic piece in the frame to poke through. He had to do it, however, to stop the major bleeding. He’s gonna vaporize the area with a laser. The two reasons he’s got to operate are so I don’t get a deadly infection, which would most definitely happen. Also, so I can hear even better. He bluntly admitted that his territory is the inner ear only. At least we know he doesn’t have an ego. We’re being referred to a Dr. Joganic who does the outer ear stuff. They’re gonna see if they can team up together so they can both do their stuff in 1 operation.

I’ll probably have 3 choices as far as what can be done about the plastic piece that’s exposed. 1. To hack off the upper ear completely. This is probably what I’ll do cuz it seems to be the quickest and easiest thing. So, my ear will be uglier than all hell. Oh well. 2. Is to rebuild it from scratch. Supposedly the doctor can take cartilage from my ribs. Having an incision in my belly area probably won’t tickle, but at least I don’t care about the scar. Not when I already have a million scars and stretch marks and other skin defects. 3. Is to do nothing about it at all if that’s not dangerous.

Dr. Neilson said he’d do another skin graft from the same area under my left upper arm. The scar tissue apparently built up and squished the ear canal shut, so this is why he’s got to re-graft the outer canal. He said there’s a 98% success rate for the second operation keeping the canal wide open.

I had been worried that I wouldn’t be able to get on with my life and that I’d have a million doctor’s appointments a month for the next year or so, but he said not to worry and to go ahead and get on with my life.

Friday, February 10, 1995

 

I swear I’ll never watch another talk show again. They’re too depressing and infuriating and I’ve had it with the fucking teenage “bad girls.” This admitted dope head said she won’t quit doping out just cuz she’s pregnant. Her mother, meanwhile, is sitting there saying there’s nothing for teenagers to do in the town they’re from. I can see a pregnant woman smoking cigarettes, but alcohol, pot, and other hard drugs - please!

When I was talking to Andy about how God seems to give all the wrong people kids, he said that those who believe the world is near its end say that’s supposed to happen. Yeah, I know. It’s quite obvious this is “supposed” to happen. Well, maybe I would be one of those wrong people to have a kid cuz I’d have certainly beat the shit out of a couple of kids today at Dr. Nielsen’s office had it been up to me. There was a woman with a 12-year-old boy who was well-behaved. However, these twin boys who were about 8 were the biggest animals I’d ever seen. Totally off the wall and out of control. All kids are naturally loud and wild animals, but I don’t blame the kids. The mother definitely needed some serious discipline-teaching lessons. I could tell that even Tom thought they were quite wild. Back when I was a kid most kids could never get away with acting like that. Fewer kids did act like that back then cuz they were better disciplined and I don’t necessarily mean by being beaten either.

Anyway, of all people I’ve known, Tom’s been the least into saying things he or we’ll do that either don’t happen or take forever. Still, the more I think about his having said, “If you just wait two months, you’ll be pregnant,” it makes me wonder. He says he isn’t trying to force patience into me and doesn’t believe in forcing anyone into anything. This isn’t the point, though. Even though I’ve known how he’d prefer me to have a kid at age 30, the year be 1996, possibly begin cumming around the month of May, and was always in control of cumming or not, it irks me. It really irks me. If I wasn’t sterile the guy would have to cum 1-2 times a day for many months before I could get pregnant. Hell, it may even take years. Also, I feel like this is one of those things that is just talk. Do you have any idea how many times he’s told me he’s gonna cum? Practically since we met. Every week and or month since we’ve been together he was supposed to cum. I know he’s not deliberately doing this to me, but I still feel led on. I feel I handled it OK in my mind cuz the second he said I’d be pregnant in two months, I told myself, no, I won’t. It’s like he’s making excuses to tide me over in between the times I get upset over the situation.

I’ve heard people say that God won’t give us any more than we can handle. Well, I don’t buy it cuz of those who’ve committed suicide. However, if there’s any grain of truth to that and I never have a kid, I can only come up with the same theories as to why. Maybe I truly couldn’t handle it, as I always feared despite how normal my fears are. Maybe he doesn’t want anything to come between Tom and I. We sure as hell don’t. Lastly, there’s always the fact that I ain’t no teenage bad girl. I’m not a druggie, violent, etc. Well, I’ve handled stuff before I never thought I could and have been made to eat my words before, so we’ll see. Time will tell. Maybe God’s saying, “Hey! You’re selfish to want and demand more than you’ve already got. You can’t have it all. You can’t have everything you want.”

I can’t believe I’ve kept my schedule steady for this long and have made it to all my appointments. There’s no way I could’ve and would’ve done that when I was back on my own. Guess what, though? Tomorrow I sure as hell am sleeping as late as this body wants to till it awakens on its own.

Later...

I just did some more story typing and more typing of 42. I also typed up letters earlier to my parents, Tammy, Bob and Kim.

Tom and I spoke to Dad earlier to fill him in on the latest ear scoop. Ma wasn’t there, but Dad will fill her in, of course.

Dad’s going up to Brimfield in May to help the E’s out with their flea market up there. I remember them and the flea market there. Mom and Dad have flea marketed there, so to speak, a few times. At least Tammy will be happy about that, cuz of course Dad we’ll visit her and everyone else. All the family and friends, I mean.

I know I wrote about this, but back in ‘89 or ‘90 when I still lived in Springfield on Woodside Terrace, Dad and I were at the E’s house for dinner. They lived right by the flea market. Boo and Max were there too, and Max wouldn’t shut the fuck up and let me have hardly any time with Dad. Then they drove me back home and Boo asked me about Mom. She wasn’t too pleased when I said I didn’t know too much since we hardly ever got along. She asked, I told her. This was the only time they ever got on my nerves, though.

Dad said Mrs. E flew out from Hartford the other day at only -2º. Dad also said they had a record low of 36º in Florida. In Bob’s letter, I got today, he mentioned the 10-15 inches of snow, as Alex did a few days ago through Prodigy. I certainly don’t miss that shit, even though it’s chilly as all hell out there right now. Our afternoons are gorgeous and warm, though.

It’s nice right now to not have to give a damn what time I fall asleep or wake up. Like I said before, though, I’m sure I’ll sleep the day away tomorrow.

I’ll probably work on my story tomorrow, read, write, and do whatever. I still haven’t finished my music puzzle, but there’s no hurry. It sure will be a challenge, though, as the remaining 50 pieces or so are all black.

My next appointment to see Dr. Nielsen is set for March 2nd at 4 PM. Glad it’s not the 26th or 27th of this month and I hope Dr. Joganic’s isn’t either. I haven’t got a date yet on when we’ll see him. Dr. Nielsen’s office will let me know. Joganic sure is a funny last name. It’s even cornier than mine.

Tom said he could have sworn he heard a woman at work say her GYN at the main Cigna building’s last name is O. Well, Jews seem to either be doctors, lawyers, or the black sheep of their families!

Did I mention that I accidentally taped about 10 -15 seconds over that Terry Jacks song? Well, I did and tried for hours on two different days to get them to play it. When I called the station, the DJ said he would, but that’s people for you.

Guess I’m gonna go have a smoke now, then maybe I’ll hit the sack.

Later...

Today I got up at 3 PM. I’m surprised I didn’t sleep till 5:00, but I feel great.

I’m doing laundry now and I’ve typed up more of 42.

Tom’s working on the computer for a while till we have fun. I think he’ll want to go down on me, but even though I just changed the sheets, I know I can count on him not to mess them up. That is if we screw, I mean. It’s not April, but April’s still just one big joke to me till and if I ever see differently.

Dad mentioned on the phone yesterday the possibility of them coming here at the end of this year or the spring of ‘96.

Saturday, February 11, 1995

 

Not much has happened since I last wrote.

Tom’s almost got the cigarette machine done. He said, “Not only will you cut down with this, but you’ll quit, too. Someday we can show our kid how its mother quit.” I don’t think so, but that’s fine if he thinks that.

I finished typing 42. I’ve begun 43 which should be done in no time at all. Some of it has printed-out stuff glued in and there are also several pages with each journal’s starting/ending dates and entry dates. I won’t be typing this stuff up. Not the chart, I mean, cuz there’s no need or reason to bother.

I spoke with Andy last night and let him know what’s going on with my ear.

His friend Sarah who moved to CA had left his outgoing message. He wanted me to tape it and leave him a new outgoing message with my voice calling him Mark and I did.

I saw the Miss USA pageant last night. Texas won. MA was from Wilbraham, another stuck-up little bedroom town with money 20 minutes away from Longmeadow. Mary C was from there. The gay staff member from Valleyhead who was leading me on while she was with Annie L, another staff member. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were still together.

Sunday, February 12, 1995

 

I just hung up from talking to Andy and Marla. They just got Prodigy, so Marla and her husband Evan will soon be sending messages. Then I’ll reply.

Andy said that last night at 4 AM he had a bad feeling about being murdered and he also felt like something was telling him to wash his hands. He was very tired, though, and then there was a loud knock on the door. He said he was terrified, wouldn’t open the door, and whoever it was only knocked once. Then, after a few minutes, they gave up and left. He doesn’t know who it was or how many people. No one he knows would come over at that hour. Especially without calling first. He says he has no known enemies at this time. He said whoever it was probably would’ve killed him for sure and that the reason he had this feeling of something telling him to wash his hands was to make it easier for a coroner to do an autopsy.

Monday, February 13, 1995

 

I can’t believe I typed up all of 43 in a day, but I did. I worked on it for about 8 hours. All my journals total 2 megabytes. I’ve got a total of 53 typed up and together they total 556 pages. I need a new binder soon. Real soon. In fact, I could use one now. Not counting this journal or ones with letters or that are already typed, I have 14 left. 76 will probably take forever.

No message from Marla yet, but I’ll check again later today.

I typed Tom up a sweet, romantic Valentine’s letter.

Yesterday I talked to Larry. Believe it or not, he had no new jokes for me.

He said it was cold with 14” of snow.

Jenny got her first bra, he said, and is changing overnight from a little girl to a young woman.

Sandy didn’t want Jenny to cut her hair, but Larry, like me, doesn’t believe in making kids have their hair a certain way or eat foods they don’t like. Mom and Tammy are the other way around. Anyway, Jenny cut her hair up to her waist, but Larry says he thinks she wants to cut it again.

He says he’s happy to be spending more time with his family, but missed the freedom of the open road. He says he loved Phoenix, the desert, and the sunsets. He still says, though, that if they ever do move, it’d probably be to FL. He doesn’t mind the humidity.

I told him I’d soon be having another operation, but didn’t have a date. March second is my pre-op appointment.

Haven’t heard from Andy since shortly before midnight on the 12th. I hope he hasn’t had any more 4 AM visitors knocking on his door.

Yesterday I also finished 88. The second book of my story. I can’t believe it. This is the longest story I’ve ever stuck to. Plus, those 42 pages it began with that are scattered throughout 82 & 83. I don’t know where, when, and how it’ll end, but I’m not really caring or thinking about it now.

I’ve only got 3 more pages to write in Andy’s birthday journal that’s got 63 pages altogether. God only knows when I’ll be seeing him to give him that, his crayon can, his Lindsay Wagner movie, and his magazine with the Phase-Out in it. He should be getting the birthday card I sent him in the mail today if he checks it. He doesn’t check his mailbox every day.

Tuesday, February 14, 1995

 

Yesterday I typed up Tom Valentine’s letter and boy did I get the sweetest surprise from him. On one piece of paper, in the center of it, is a big heart that says Happy Valentine’s Day. Around that, he typed: To the most beautiful, lovely, pretty, attractive, gorgeous, good looking, beauteous, ravishing, sexy, intelligent, bright, sharp, smart, clever, talented, gifted endowed wife in the world. I hope you will be my Valentine forever!

This was so wonderfully sweet. Especially the words, sexy, smart, talented and gifted.

Later...

I just left Andy a message who I still haven’t heard from and read him the Valentine’s letter from Tom. I also typed it into my parents and Tammy’s letters I just did.

Later...

Tom’s on his way out to work, so I thought I’d write a few lines.

I got a letter from Bob, and due to him writing his letters towards the center of the paper; I punched holes in it and put it in the binder.

Later...

I have so many thoughts and ideas going through my head right now. I know some could be right, some partially right, and some way off the wall. I’m just doing what I do best right now. Analyzing and figuring. Remember how I said that a part of me would think Tom didn’t want a kid and part of me would think he did? Well, I believe way way way more that he does. I can tell by what he’s told me and all the opinions and feelings about it that he’s expressed to me. Well, it has been my experience that things either take forever to happen, if they happen at all, or they all happen at once.

There are only two reasons why I didn’t get pregnant when we met as well as around the time of our wedding or my surgery. One is cuz under one of Murphy’s laws everything happens at once. The other is due to all the “kid” signs all around me and thrown in my face for so long just like guys were for so long. Remember how I said it was quite obvious many years ago that God wanted me with a guy and not a woman?

It’s not that I can’t go to Tom and ask him about his feelings and that he’s not honest with me, it’s just that I don’t want any mixed messages to confuse me more. We can all give off mixed messages even if the feelings are basically the same. Even I have. For example, yes, I do want a kid way more than I don’t, but right now I probably appear to not want one. Truthfully, I don’t on a day like today. What I mean by that is that there’s no way I could keep up with it today till Tom got home. I’ve been up since 9:00 last night. Tom said that if we had a kid, I wouldn’t be in a situation like that, but I don’t get that. I don’t think having a kid will make it any easier for me to always be the day person I’d need to be or get up day after day, night after night, every hour to change and feed it.

Well, I know that Tom mentioned that my being 30 and the year being 1996 appealed to him. He also said a long time ago that June was a good month to get pregnant. This morning I said that March would be a good time to have it to keep it away from the busy months of June and December and he said, “Yes” in a tone I know really well. A tone that said he very much agreed and that’s what he was planning on. When I calculated it, I realized that dropping a kid in the month of March after a normal 9-month term would mean getting pregnant in June.

I thought about it and realized we were supposed to be in business a long time ago and have so many other things done a long time ago that aren’t done yet, or we did get things done, but way later than we planned on. Not that either of us is lazy or deliberately putting stuff off, but still, that’s the usual case.

I told him this morning that I can’t deal with prospective dates anymore. To please not say stuff like, “If you just wait two months, you’ll be pregnant.”

You know how I said my “feeling” of having a kid in November went away? Well so did conceiving in April. The reason why his saying this got to me is cuz I know it’s not true and I don’t want to go get myself all psyched up for nothing. He’s said he thinks we’ll have a kid in the fall. Now it’s the beginning of 1996. He’s said he was gonna cum in the winter of ‘94, then the spring of ‘94, then the summer of ‘94, then the winter of ‘95 and he still says he will cum. I can’t deal with this shit. I know he’s not out to play head games with me, but I can’t deal with bullshit dates.

I need to keep realistic here and remind myself of the fact that I probably can’t get pregnant even if he came in there daily. And that if I can and do, it’ll no doubt drag on for years. Meaning I probably couldn’t get pregnant before 1½ years or more from now. I’m sure he’ll cum when he’s ready to make that kid, but he’s also dropped hints here and there as far as me being right about the much later timing.

One time we were discussing sleeping together. I said it’d be best to do so when we have a kid cuz then I’m gonna be woken up constantly and not sleeping much anyhow. He said he disagreed. I asked if the reason why was cuz it’s so far away and he said yes, that was partly it.

But a month or so ago he said he thought we were just casually screwing without planning dates till it was discovered that I was pregnant. I always said, “Well, Tom, that’s fine, but you’ve got to cum for that to be likely.”

I’ll discuss someone else’s opinion on that later.

This morning we made a deal. He said, “How about it if we do this, but this is only tentative. We can change our minds. Despite the surgery, we’ll take care of the dentist in April and the GYN in May. Cuz then if you aren’t pregnant, you’ll be making very serious plans to be.” Then he went on to say stuff as if I’d way more than likely not be and he knew it. He mentioned asking if all looked OK to get pregnant at this May appointment. At this point, it’s getting harder and harder to think about it in a positive, hopeful way. I’ve had my share of letdowns in my life. It’s not that I’m not used to them, aren’t prepared for them, or can’t deal with them, but I sure don’t want to. If I’m not pregnant by June, then I will definitely wonder about both of us. I just don’t want to be getting my hopes up and all psyched up for nothing. It’s just too damn tiring. I think it’d be best and easiest for me if I think and have the attitude that I’m not gonna have a kid and that if I do, it’ll be years from now.

Lastly, I’m still not 100% sure about what’s up with his not cumming. I’m 98% sure he’s waiting till we make the kid, but there’s that 2% chance that there’s something wrong and he won’t admit it out of embarrassment or whatever.

I finally decided I would call a nurse and ask some of these questions at a medical info line. She did say I should ask a GYN these questions also, and to me, her answers are her opinions that aren’t necessarily right. She’s not in Tom’s head or a guy any more than I am.

Here are the quick answers first:

No, the KY won’t prevent pregnancy but could hinder it somewhat. More so, it won’t be a problem.

She doesn’t know about DES, but has heard of it and has heard that it’s supposed to affect having babies.

Now, as I figured and was told before, my meds won’t affect getting pregnant.

A nurse I once talked to when Tom and I first met said the chances of conceiving without a guy cumming is 10% - 15%. This is also what we had thought. Tom said the reason why there are millions of sperms is cuz one isn’t likely to make it. Well, the nurse said that all it takes is one and that we’ve been beating the odds cuz guys leak (and yes, he does) and there are millions alone in there. In just the leakage from the pre-cum, I mean. This makes me more convinced I’m sterile if it’s that possible and this much easier than I thought.

She asked how I knew he didn’t cum. Cuz he always says he was “so close” and I never feel anything leaking out of me. She said maybe it depends on how soon after I get up. I asked if she noticed it leak out of her when she’s with someone. She said she didn’t know, doesn’t pay attention, but that a GYN could tell if it’s possible for a guy to cum without discharging anything.

There’s also stuff like when he said, “This feels so good that it makes me never want to cum,” a few months back. He also said that if it were all up to him, he’d move in slow motion which is nice some of the time but boring all of the time. I usually tell him to be more aggressive. Go faster and harder.

He constantly goes from hard to soft and always has an excuse. He’s tired, he’s got a cramp, a headache, a sinus ache, etc.

She asked how he relieves himself and she can’t understand him going that long without relieving himself. I assume he takes care of himself and he’s told me he has wet dreams. She then said she agreed with me that his not cumming is psychological. She also went on to say that he could have a deep-seated fear of having a baby that he won’t open up about due to his ego or being sensitive in certain ways. Men have more apprehensions about having a baby than women, he could be afraid to lose me, etc. Yeah, I’ve heard it all. It’s not a guy thing, kids are for the mothers, it’s too non-macho, silly, and the guy’s turned off cuz the woman’s fat and feels jealous and left out due to the affection being on the baby. Yes, Tom has displayed sensitivity, jealousy, and feeling left out, but all this other stuff doesn’t fit him. If anyone has more fears and doubts about it I think it’d be me. I’m the one that always said I was afraid of losing him due to being tired, bitchy, and fat. I was afraid we’d have no time and no lives together. I was afraid the kid would come in between us, worried about affording it, etc. He’s said he’s not nervous about having a kid; there are more rewards to it than bad, and all kinds of positive things about it. I have to believe what he says. I mean, can he really be that much of a liar?

At this point, I’m gonna try my best to look at it like it’s never gonna happen as I said I would. If I’m not pregnant by the time June rolls around, then I’ll wonder if that nurse was right. Then I’ll go from thinking he’s holding off for now to he really does not want a kid. If he cums and months go by and I’m not? Then I’ll believe the DES did get the best of me and God doesn’t want me to have one for two possible reasons. One, it’d kill me. Two, I’d be such a good mom that doesn’t “qualify” in this day and age.

Wednesday, February 15, 1995

 

Back to using address labels as date separators. Well, for now anyway. We’ve got so many labels right now that this is why I’m doing this. I have this set and the jewel-toned one with just my name on it. Tom’s got two with just his name on it, then we’ve got two sets with both our names on it. Next time we order new labels, from now on I’ll order them all with both our names.

Andy’s 33 today. I talked to him last night and told him I wasn’t sure if I should feel bad cuz I made him his presents (the booklet journal and crayon can), rather than buying them. He said don’t feel bad at all. Also, he couldn’t afford to buy me anything in Dec. for my birthday, but now he can and wanted to know what I wanted. I told him about the puzzles and the dog mugs at the art store.

I told him to call me today when he got up to see about coming over. I don’t know if I’ll be too tired or not. He’s always way later than he says he’ll be, so I may very well be tired. I’ve been up since midnight last night, but I can’t believe how much faster I can move my schedule around nowadays.

Today I finished typing 50 and it would’ve been done yesterday or sooner today if it didn’t crash on me. Luckily, I didn’t have too much to retype. I omitted a few trivial and non-important things so I wouldn’t have to spend too much time typing stuff I’d already typed.

I called Dr. Nielsen’s office today and she was fixing to call me today. Dr. Driscoll’s taking care of the referral for Dr. Joganic. Dr. Nielsen and Dr. Joganic talked and they are gonna operate together. That much is good news, so hopefully, I’ll need one more operation, not two. My pre-op appointment with Dr. Nielsen is 3/2 and I called and set up an appointment with Dr. Joganic for 2/23 for the consultation. She’s sending me paperwork to fill out to bring to the appointment.

Tom called and brought up a very good point and question. How come Dr. Joganic already agreed to do the operation without seeing me first? He said he thought we’d have choices and one of them would be no surgery on the outer ear. Maybe when they talked with each other, Dr. Joganic said that doing nothing about it wouldn’t be a choice and that he has to operate and do something about it. He also asked if Dr. Joganic’s appointment was my pre-op with him and why they didn’t give me a date for surgery.

Beats me. Guess we’ll find out on the 23rd about the outer ear choices and then on the 2nd, if not the 23rd, about the date of the surgery.

Tom and I had a discussion this morning about my feelings and doubts about getting some of the things I want. He told me that the best thing for me to do would be to try my best to remain in the middle. Meaning, don’t give up but don’t plan or count on things. It’s hard for me not to be more doubtful than hopeful and he understands that.

I guess I misunderstood him when he said to wait two months and I’d be pregnant. He meant if I try not to have it be such an intense obstacle in my mind, cuz that can make it harder. Yeah, he has a point and I see and know what he means about that. I wish I had his attitude, but a bigger part of me is saying to forget it as much as I can and to move on to other things in life, whatever they’ll be.

He said the reason he mentioned that two-month thing was cuz he really does believe that. Believe that no matter after which two months I don’t pressure myself with it I’ll be pregnant? Or in two months from now meaning April? I think he meant any two months like April or May or July and August. Whatever. I’ll still try to take his advice. He said it’s OK to talk about wanting it, just don’t say stuff like it’ll never happen, cuz that may make it harder. He also understands that saying it will happen doesn’t mean that’ll make it easier, either. I guess with me it’s a woman’s intuition. I can’t help but get bad feelings about sterility. I will try to think less and worry less about it, though.

I talked to Andy about it who reminded me never to say never. Don’t think there’s something out there that’s gonna say, “You’re being selfish for wanting this, and don’t think you’re gonna be blessed yet again, cuz you’ve been blessed enough.”

Yeah, perhaps I shouldn’t for I’ve been cursed more than I’ve been blessed in my life.

Some other time I’ll get into some advice Andy gave me which I followed last night. I also have another idea that I feel kind of silly about, but I’ll discuss it later.

Before I go, here’s a note on the flip side of my doubtfulness. This may also sound silly and off the wall, but sometimes I get a feeling about finding out I’m pregnant during journal 86.

Thursday, February 16, 1995

 

I can’t remember if Tom’s working today or not. His job ends March 10th and he’s saving his sick days and vacation days for my appointments and surgery. Our benefits go through until June.

Andy left a message shortly after 3 PM yesterday, but by then I was conking out. He was telling me he was on his way out and would call, but I haven’t heard from him or talked to him. I left him a message a couple of hours ago. He was on the phone then talking to someone cuz the phone only rang once.

He told me earlier how he got a huge book from his sister Linda in CA on All My Children. His favorite soap.

What was his advice the other day? Well, he believes in praying to God and says it’s worked for him before. He said praying to win the lottery isn’t something you’d pray for, but he’s prayed for toothaches and stuff like that to go away. He said no, not every prayer will come true, but I should pray to God about having a kid. He said to have a conversation with Him, tell Him why you want a baby, but don’t pick the time frame cuz only He knows when the time is right.

Does He? I guess I believe He does in most cases. Especially with stuff pertaining to me and my life, but how can He allow countless teens to get pregnant and feel the time for them was right?

Anyway, I’ve done this twice so far in the way he recommended.

Saturday, February 18, 1995

 

It’s gonna hit 80º or so today and I beg God to death that it’s not a wild rowdy day out there today. I really hope I can enjoy it in peace. They’ve really been a hell of a lot quieter, though. Instead of being directly outside our windows, they’re more towards the house on the other side of their house. There are fewer screaming and no obnoxious ball games. I think I’ve figured out why they’re out front in certain parts of the year. Well, they don’t seem to come out till later in the afternoon, say from 3 PM - 6 PM. Well, the sun sets at the front of the house, so it’s usually warmer out front. Now that they’ve been quieter, I’m not at all looking forward to when they move to the back cuz then they are ear-piercingly loud for endless hours. They shouldn’t hit the back until sometime in April and I hope they go to Idaho again. The weird thing is, though, she said she hated the heat really bad. Then why did she and the kids only leave for the month of June and not July and August?

No music from across the street for ages! I love it! I think that kid did move out cuz I haven’t seen him. Plus, I’d surely know if he was there cuz every time he’d drive in and out I’d hear his car stereo loud and clear. Maybe he and his mother moved cuz I haven’t even seen her.

Today Tom’s working on the cigarette machine. I think I wrote about that, but I will anyway once it’s done.

We may also go out today to the pet store to pick up a bale of regular pine sawdust that I’ll mix in with the cedar chips.

Monday, February 20, 1995

 

Aaarrrggghhh! I’m getting so big! My clothes are getting tighter. I really believe that little by little my thin days are ending whether I exercise or not. It’s ironic how Andy said I looked more solid when he was here. Well, it may be expensive, as I’ll have to be buying bigger clothes, but being chunky won’t kill me. If I was getting into the 130s, then I’d see if I could do something about it. For now, I’ll just look more like the typical wife does.

I just did a major project that was fun and well worth it. I only wish I’d done it a long time ago. Between both Linda and Gloria, I had tons of sheet music of their songs that was torn out of the books. They were all out of order and some songs have pages missing. This is cuz there were pictures on certain pages that I once had. I put them in the best order that I could, punched holes in them and put them in a big black binder. This way, we can set it up on the music stand. I’d be totally lost without that music stand. That’s what I use to type up my journals. Just think how hard it’d be for me to keep the pages open without it. I put address labels on the songs I like to sing that are in my range and style.

It’s a hot day of 86º today. I didn’t lie out for too long today so as not to receive a dose of sun poisoning. It’s very windy out today.

Later...

I just made spag and typed up letters to Kim and Bob. I wonder if I’ll ever hear from Minnie again now that she’s got a kid.

Speaking of kids, and the last two days before today, well, things weren’t too cool for a while there. I feel a hell of a lot better now, but here’s what Tom and I talked about.

While PMS alters your thinking and feelings, I admitted to him that I’ve always had a problem with conquering my fears and going for the stuff I want, figuring I probably won’t get it. Sometimes I even punish myself and I told him that I feel really bad that I punished him while punishing myself and that I was determined to stop doing that and follow my heart, dreams, and desires.

It’s hard to wipe out of my head the shit Tammy and others have said to me about all they go through as mothers. I need to do what I want, regardless of who says what, and have a mind of my own. I have to stop being afraid to succeed and afraid to go for things I want cuz of my own fears and doubt and the ones others have planted in my head. I need to be more hopeful and positive. Yes, there have been things I said I’d never get, like the kind of relationship I have with Tom with a woman and I was right. But I’ve also been wrong on things I said I’d never get that I did get.

I told Tom the “light is green” no matter what I say, no matter how much I may PMS, and no matter how much I may be feeling negative at times like we all do here and there. I want a baby and he does too. We can’t guarantee that and we can’t put a date on it, but we’re gonna go for it as soon as we can possibly get pregnant.

Every day I’m gonna work on my attitude and again, I understand this could take a while. Just like it did with losing weight. And other things. I don’t think it’ll take too long, though, cuz an attitude change is quite different than losing lots of weight.

I conquered my fear of relationships and other things, so I know I can do this. Especially with Tom’s never-ending patience, understanding, faith, and encouragement. Our talk yesterday was great cuz he remained calm and positive. Didn’t get frustrated with me or throw anything in my face that he asked to hear.

I prayed to God for the third time a couple of nights ago. I not only asked him to help me get pregnant, but to be able to deal with not having a kid if it’s gonna be a while yet or if I never can. So far it seems more than a coincidence that I’m more relaxed, peaceful, and hopeful about it, yet patient and understanding that it takes a long time for some people.

What else has got me in a fine mood? Well, yesterday I sang and played the guitar and keyboard. The keyboard, though, was quite rusty. I had to stop and hear the songs in my head that I’d forgotten. Little by little I’ll remember stuff and be like my old self. Still, I’m way more of a guitar player and even much much more of a singer. Later that day Tom and I played both instruments and harmonized together. Our voices harmonize really well together. He plays the keyboard better than the guitar and that’s good so we can balance each other out in a way we couldn’t if we both either played the guitar or the keyboard better. My fingertips are doing better. Today they feel like they have a low-grade fever, rather than like they were just placed on the stove.

What luck I had earlier. I just hit the hotkeys to save a whole page’s worth of stuff I typed when we had a one-second power failure. Gotta reset the clocks soon.

I just realized that I have yet to mention Andy’s visit. He came over at 5 AM on the 16th. He didn’t stay too long cuz he had to get home to bed, but he really liked what I gave him for his birthday. Thank God, cuz I was worried and not sure if he would or not. He was shocked at the 63-page journal I did up for him. I said I figured he’d save it, mail it to people, or give it back to me to send to Bob bit by bit. He said it was so adorable, though, that he may keep it forever.

He also liked the crayon can and was shocked at how many NPN envelopes I had for him. There were about 45-50 of them. He opened one here and dumped all of them in a mailbox on his way home. I also gave him 30 NPN cards I wrote out to Nervous for magazines, pamphlets, and all kinds of catalogs and info.

He didn’t bring me my stuff cuz he came from a friend’s house and didn’t know if he was gonna come over or not. But he looked up the name of Gloria’s daughter for me. Her name is Emily Marie. How boring!

I also gave Andy the tape with the Lindsay Wagner movie and the soap awards I taped on it too, for him. Also, the magazine with the Phase-Out ad.

We called for and received info on getting a business license for a small home business. We need about 3 different licenses that’ll cost between $75 - $100 bucks. We’ll probably use the money from the severance package he’ll be getting at the end of March.

We also got two new ribbons and a bail of pine sawdust to mix in with the cedar sawdust the other day. From now on, though, we’re ordering ribbons by mail. It’s cheaper that way.

Got a letter from Kim the other day, and Alex and I still continue to chat over Prodigy. Still no recipes from Tammy and I’m not counting on that. Still nothing from Marla, either. Andy says they’re probably having trouble installing it and using it. Probably so.

Several days ago Tom and I had awesome sex. Never have we done so many positions in one “screwing session.” We did about 4 different ones that time.

Now for the most uncool news of all. It’s that time of year when the kids next door rule the front yard. This is better than the back, as it’s easier to drown them out with the stereo than it is with the boom box out back. They’re out from noon or 2:00 to sundown and I know they will be quite often till the intense heat comes in. In March or April, they’ll run to the backyard, but in June I should hardly ever hear them. It’s mostly on weekends and sometimes late in the afternoons, but I hope they’ll go to Idaho again in June.

The reasons it pisses me off are the same. I feel controlled and that their noise is being forced on me. Their noise should be for their parent’s ears only. Not others. I shouldn’t have to hear them or anyone else in my own house. It’s just like when that band was a constant problem across the street. I felt his music was forced on me in my own home where if I want to hear music it should be mine and mine only. I’m 99% sure they can’t hear my music next door, but if they can, I don’t feel sorry for them about it at all. Also, like I said before if I have to listen to a kid scream, I want it to be my own. However, I plan to do whatever I can to not let our kid get out of control like that.

It’s just a pity these people can’t wake up and realize that these houses are very close, and what they’re allowing their kids to do is rude and disrespectful to others. If we did have a kid, I’m sure there’d still be enough noise from ours that’ll blend in with theirs, cuz I understand that kids are kids, but for now, while there’s still no kid here, why should other’s noise be forced on me in here? The bulk of the time they’re quiet. It comes and goes in cycles and I know their patterns now. I can have months of peace, but then there are a few days a week for a few months when it goes on for hours. It really irks me. Especially when I’m sitting here trying to have a conversation with Tom and every few minutes a screaming fit breaks out. It’s hard to concentrate. With that shit in the background, I mean.

Do these people ever go anywhere other than to church for a few hours on Sundays? I realize that with so many kids there’s not a whole lot of money left over to go have fun with, but why can’t they go to a nearby park for a day? That wouldn’t cost anything.

I heard another story I heard a million times on TV yesterday. A woman was saying she wanted to leave her 4 kids cuz all they did was steal her life and make her fat. Again, my head says to listen to these stories and be grateful I probably can’t have a kid. My heart says I’m gonna do what I want to do anyway.

Tuesday, February 21, 1995

 

I was gonna say, so much for that bulb I planted out back, but Tom said it’s not the time for it to come up yet. The front and backyard need lots of work. The weeds are back in full force.

Not a peep out of next door. Great.

Later...

Right now there’s a serious thunder/lightning and rainstorm going on.

When the doctor did the skin graft on my arm, he did it in the shape of a square. I wonder if he can do it in the shape of a heart. It’d be cooler to have a red heart for a while, rather than a red square.

Wednesday, February 22, 1995

 

Due to the storm, I woke up pretty wheezy. Luckily, I got it under control pretty fast and was nowhere near the ER.

I began the third book of my story.

Dr. Joganic’s office called to verify tomorrow’s appointment. Tom and I have to finish the paperwork they sent us.

Things are just beginning to dry up outside.

Next door has their doors or windows open as always and I could hear a few sentences occasionally. I think I heard a parrot squawking over there, too. Also, I know their dog’s name is Muffins cuz I heard one of the kids calling him about a week ago.

These people definitely have money in order to pay for and support 5 kids and 2 animals. Not enough money, though, to live in a house where they’re not so tightly cramped and packed in. I don’t know how the hell 7 people fit into a 3-bedroom house, and I just know she’s pregnant now with number 6.

I finished typing Journal 58 and am working on 59 now.

I left Kim a message too, since I haven’t talked to her in a long time.

Last night I really got to thinking about Paula B. Does she ever think of me? Did she ever wonder about trying anything with me? How’s her life now? I hope she’s doing well and is happy. The same goes for Jessie and Cassandra. I wonder why I’ve never heard from Cassandra. Did she lose my number? Or did she decide she didn’t want to have a friend so far away? Did she ever decide she couldn’t deal with only being just my friend no matter where I lived? Should I ever try to contact any of these people? Or should I just leave them in the past?

Later...

Well, here’s what I just did. Jessie’s still living in the area and I doubt if I have her current number. I could make contact with her through her mom in Longmeadow, but she and Cassandra are closed, but great memories of my life.

There’s no Paula B listed and I’m not at all surprised. She probably can’t afford a phone or has a huge bill and there are no B’s in Longmeadow where I think she might’ve lived at one point. I know she had a brother Paul and a sister Brandy, but there were none listed. The operator gave me the number of an Ed B. The wife answered saying there was no relation to Paula, so I don’t know what else to do. I’m not gonna ask the operator for every B listed and she said there were several.

She moved to West Springfield after I moved to S. Deerfield which was when I last spoke to her. Where she is now, who knows? She had a second kid when we last talked, too. Another boy. I don’t remember her ever talking about moving out of state, but she may have also had family in Enfield, CT, too.

I could be very wrong, and I hope I am, but I can’t picture Jessie or Paula’s lives being any different than they were when I last knew them.

I also wonder how Steve and Jai are? I wouldn’t be surprised if Jai left Springfield long ago and is in New York City. Jessie mentioned that Steve lived in Chicopee and was to move to California when I was in Norwich, so who knows?

I never wonder what’s going on with Kacey and Brenda. Kacey’s probably still at Monsanto, either in long-term relationships or dumping people after just a week or two. Brenda’s still probably on psych pills and crack. Probably still quiet, troubled, and hanging with losers.

Thursday, February 23, 1995

 

I am at the doctor’s office now and not too thrilled about it. I’ll write more later after I get this shit over with.

Later...

Andy probably has no faith in God right now. His teeth are in massive pain right now, so he’s on his way to the dentist. Earlier he had left a message wishing me luck today. He said when he gets back he’ll let me know all about it and wants to know about my ear which is good news. Dr. Joganic’s gonna hack it off! I’m beat now, so I’ll get into it later.

Later...

The kids just hit the front for the next 2-3 hours, so I turned on the tunes to write.

Jackie, the one who schedules surgery just called. I still have to see Dr. Nielsen on 3/2, but it’s no longer a pre-op appointment. It’s just a regular one. My pre-op has been upped to 3/20 at noon. Then on 3/21, I’ll have surgery at 10:30, but I’ll have to be there at 9 AM. The operation should take two hours and both doctors will be operating on me. On 4/4 at 1:30 I’ll be at my follow-up appointment.

Later...

I just ran outside for half a smoke. It’s quiet back there. The backyards are all 3/4 shaded now, so that’s why the kids have run out to the front till it gets hot in or out of the shade. I wish the sun set at the back of the houses on this side, though, cuz it’d keep the pool warmer for longer.

I’m gonna go write up the grocery list for tomorrow.

Tom’s been in his room sick with a cold, so I’m gonna leave him a note with all my surgery dates on it. I mean, surgery and appointment dates.

Friday, February 24, 1995

 

Right now I am in a foul mood. I’m stressed out, I’m worried and I’m confused. Not only have I got the stress of surgery over my head, but the date of my surgery is when I’m due for my period. It’s still hard to keep that neutral attitude. I still have scary visions of myself at age 40-50 saying, “I knew I couldn’t get pregnant, so why didn’t I have that operation to get my insides removed?”

I feel I’ve done a lousy job taking care of Tom who’s sick with a cold.

I’m stressing out over next door. I know that for 3-6 hours they’re gonna be raising hell.

I also feel like a lot of the time Tom gives off mixed emotions about having a kid, too. When we were discussing my period being due on surgery day, I realized he was talking about it as if he knew. He knew I’d be getting my period. He knew he wouldn’t be cumming. If he doesn’t by June, then I’ve got to do something. I can’t keep saying I’ll give it a few months, then a few more, then a few more. Why don’t I set a tentative plan for myself? If nothing’s changed by this time next year I’ll at least go get info and set up a consultation for a hysterectomy.

Later...

Well, my foul mood is all gone and I feel a lot better. I’m back to taking things one step at a time.

I did the dishes and worked out a little. Last night I did every single exercise on one of my tapes, amazingly enough. Already I feel the firmer, slimmer difference. The question is, will it last? Even if I keep up with it?

It’s very windy out and it looks like a storm could be rolling in. I have mixed emotions about storms. They’re kind of neat out here and they keep the kids away, but they don’t help my asthma and allergies.

We got our state tax return today of $117.

No letters today for me. I sent Bob 3 self-addressed stamped envelopes. He better use them.

Speaking of address labels, though, I just used the very last cactus label. I’m not using any others now, so I’m back to highlighting entry dates. In the next book, I may use one of the ones with both our names on it. We’ll see.

I just asked Tom if he’d mind my using the splash labels as entry dates since we’ve got a million other labels. He said to go ahead. There are 90 of them. Anyway, I’m off to do some computer work.

Later...

The house smells really good now. I just aired the place out and it’s that time of year where you can smell the orange blossoms even though they don’t smell like oranges.

Tom just went to bed. He still feels pretty yucky, but he’ll hopefully be better tomorrow. He said I did an excellent job taking care of him. Well, I made him his lunch and dinner, but I’ve really never cared for a sick person before, so I hope to do an even better job tomorrow.

Andy’s having problems with his teeth and I hope he’s feeling better. He mentioned moving in with this girl Cindy who has a house, to share their expenses. This house is all paid for. I’ve spoken to her once and she seems nice. I hope they continue to get along and that it works out, even though there are no definite plans yet.

Tom even felt well enough at one point to go to the library and the hardware store. I went, too. I never could get into the last two library books I returned today, but I got one, unexpectedly, and I really like it.

At the hardware store, he got stuff to work on the cigarette machine with, electrical tape, and stuff to shock the pool with.

I didn’t hear any kids out today cuz I had the music on. It was a nice day, though, so I’m sure they were out.

Later...

I just heard something fall and went to check it out, but all seems to be in place. It must’ve come from Tom’s room. He went into his room for the night at 7:00.

I asked Andy if he still believes in praying. He said yes cuz he asked God for temporary relief till he got more money to take care of it. He said he also wouldn’t give up on God just cuz he couldn’t always get his way. Will I ever pray again? I don’t know. I still believe that things are either meant to be or not meant to be, whether or not you pray. I also feel that I’m still making an impossible request (the baby).

I guess Goldie and Al will be calling tomorrow at some point. I told Tom that if he’s still sick on the 26th or 27th we’ll cancel. He says he’ll be fine and there’ll be no problem going.

Later...

Glad I just did a #2. I was worried I was in for another few days of constipation. That usually happens to me a couple of times a month.

Next Friday I’ll be picking up a journal for book 4 of my story, cuz I don’t want to use any of these dazzling books for it. The one I’m using now (#89) is going faster than I had anticipated. Even though it’s got the most number of pages than any others (something like 192), it’s the smallest. Even smaller than 41. I’m using normal-size writing, too. My writing in my paper journal is only slightly smaller cuz there are lines and they’re pretty close together. I believe this is the longest-running journal I’ve had in a while and it’s jammed-packed with no charts or anything else other than “life.”

I had gotten a very abrupt, quick feeling about either getting pregnant or finding out I was in ‘96. Do I still have this feeling? Logically speaking – no, I don’t, but we’ll see as I get closer to it. The stronger my feelings are, the more accurate they are. For a short time at the end of last year, I had a feeling I’d have a kid in November of this year. Shortly after New Year, I had a very, very strong feeling that said - oh no I won’t. Obviously, I was very right on that one.

As far as Tom ever cumming? I really don’t know what to make of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he never ever did. Also, despite how honest he’s been about everything else and despite what he’s told me about this, who knows what’s really going through his mind? He says the block isn’t about anything to do with the kid. He says it’s about the pressure of cumming. He says as he gets close (and I know he gets close) he tells himself to concentrate on cumming to make me happy and that’s why he can’t. I understand all about blocks as well as pressure, but I’d think that with him as attracted to me as he says he is to me on both the inside and out that that’d make it hard to keep from cumming. I still have a faint feeling of him cumming in either April or June, so we’ll see.

Later...

In the library, there was a book on Linda Ronstadt. I doubt I would have liked the pictures in it when I was younger. They were pretty lousy. The younger ones of her were with her hair short, or they were very dark. They were in black and white and the clothes she wore were gross. There were also a few of her older and fat.

Saturday, February 25, 1995

 

Already I’ve done quite a bit today. I did laundry and I’m doing more now. I made our beds, did some typing, and made Tom an ice cream parfait with vanilla ice cream and whip cream. I also made mashed potatoes and later I’m gonna make us pork chops and tater tots. Tom’s making chocolate chip cookies now with a recipe he got from his mom.

I wish I had more to say, but I just don’t right now. Only that today’s a great day. Been productive and in a good mood.

Goldie and Al will be calling anytime now, I guess.

This has been a very peaceful and quiet Saturday. That’s fine with me, though. They’re out front, no doubt, but I’ve got the music on anyway.

Well, I believe I’ll go do some typing on 59 now.

Later...

Today’s been a great and productive day, but Tom’s gone to bed. He has to get up early. I’m giving my feet and back a break right now.

Our disrespectful neighbors who may as well own this block have company. They don’t ever go anywhere, so someone’s come to them. I heard them out back barbecuing and I thought I heard a ball game start up, but it stopped, thankfully. All’s usually peaceful till late afternoon, but I’ll have to deal with them till June, unfortunately.

They’ve been there long enough for me to observe something else. That guy over there works 6 days a week from 6 - 7 AM till 7 - 9 PM. Guess that’s the price you pay when you have so many kids to support.

All the other houses are so quiet with older people, so why God? What are You really trying to tell me? Is it just like with the “men” signs? Are you trying to say You want me to get pregnant, but have no control over when I do, if I can? Or is it that You want to taunt me with what I can’t have? Well, believe me, I’ll take one of my own over a million of someone else’s any day. True, I may be sorry I ever had a kid if I did and wish I could have this life back, but oh well. I still believe that You God, are the planner. I believe I can keep myself from getting pregnant, but I can’t make myself pregnant. That is up to You.

If and when Tom starts cumming, and after several months of that, then my questions will be answered, won’t they? As far as what is or isn’t meant to be, I mean.

Come on Goldie and Al! Call me. I’m anxious to know when we’re getting together. I hope we leave shortly after Tom’s home so we can bail out of the bulk of tomorrow’s street party. At this time of year, they’re mostly out front from late afternoon till sundown, but I have a feeling they’re on their way out back. That’ll make tanning, smoking, and hanging out there a real pleasure. Yes, I’ve thought of talking to them, but what good will that do? They can’t keep them inside 24/7 and I’m sure they really don’t give a shit. People with kids think they own the world. They think that their rights come first and that their rights are all that matter.

Later...

Yeah! All’s quiet and peaceful now and the company just left. That wasn’t too too bad. Only 3-4 hours of their shit. It sure beats the 24/7 activity of the NHA. The most important thing of all is the fact that I can sleep and that our houses aren’t attached to one another. Now I can be myself, though, and not feel controlled. Just cuz I love music doesn’t mean I always want to hear it just to drown noisy neighbors out. To me, music is for listening or singing to, not for drowning out other people’s noise or sleeping. Thank God I haven’t had to sleep with it in over a year or have heavy metal concerts forced on me. I still hope that someday real soon they get sick of being cramped in a 3-bedroom house, find a way to make more money, and split. Then we need a nice old couple or person to move in who hates company.

Nah - if they move, God will have someone or something else get on my nerves.

Later...

I have a slight headache now from wearing my hair high up on my head in a braid all day. I took an Ibuprofen which will be taking care of it soon.

I just left Andy a message. I hope his teeth aren’t killing him.

I typed a letter to Larry today and worked on 59 a little.

Can you believe that it’s barely after 8:00 at night and I’m already beat? Can you also believe how much more of a day person I’ve been? Lastly, can you believe how much less my schedule flips around and how much quicker it flips around when it does? Maybe God really is helping to prepare me for something. All I can see right now is the business and the singing being prepared for, but who the hell knows? If I fall asleep soon, though, it’ll be hard to stay up late tomorrow to see Goldie and Al if we are seeing them tomorrow. Whenever we do, though, we probably won’t get home till after 10 PM.

Tom and I exchanged interesting opinions. He feels that things aren’t going to stay the same. Things will be changing that are more than little things. I, on the other hand, believe things will slow down and fall into the same pattern for a while cuz I just had so many changes in the last couple of years. We’ll see who’s right. If the changes are good ones that I can handle, then I hope he wins this one. I don’t mind being proven wrong if it’s for the better.

I just listened to music, so what shall I do now? Should I type more story drafts? Type more of 59? Watch TV? Edit? I’ll think about it as I come to an end in this journal and go begin my next one. I think I’ll do some word search puzzles after I get my next journal started. Yeah, why not?

Sunday, February 26, 1995

 

All is still pretty quiet, but it’s that time when they’ll be on their way out till sundown. I have the music on now.

A few minutes ago I finished working out.

The pool temperature is on its way up to 70º.

Andy mentioned possibly needing to borrow $200 from us for his teeth. Now’s lousy timing to ask us, cuz we won’t have any extra money until a week or two from now. He also mentioned possibly needing a co-signer for his dental plan. They won’t let an out-of-state person sign, but at least his mom did say she’ll pay for anything he needs that he can’t take care of on his own. I left Tom a message and asked him to let me know what he thought. He said I was right, there’s no extra money right now, but we’d lend it to him if we could. Also, he didn’t mind co-signing, but his credit may not allow him to.

Andy and I talked today. He said he understood perfectly well and was able to get overtime as well as accumulate enough money from some change he rolled.

Later...

Now I’ve got some shocking news about Tammy and some unfortunate news about Goldie and Al. Goldie called saying Al and his sister had so much to deal with in the way of lawyers and banks that they wouldn’t be able to see us this time around. She’s gonna call tomorrow evening at 6:00 to say goodbye to both of us, as they’re leaving for Massachusetts on the 1st. In the meantime, we updated each other on our lives and she said she was thrilled for me to have a guy like Tom and she adored us both.

I also got the story straight. I had thought it sounded like she said they had their car flown from Vegas to Sun City. Well, what they really did was have their car shipped on a truck.

She said Ma said something about coming out here this summer. That’s news to me. I thought Dad said the end of this year or the beginning of next. They always mention all kinds of dates, but who really knows when they’ll be coming?

Ma’s looking for a place for them in Florida for next winter. They don’t know when and if they’ll be returning to Vegas. Maybe in a couple of years. They want to be near their sons and their families who are in Boston.

As far as Tammy’s concerned, Bill’s going into the hospital next Saturday for two months.

Guess who came to visit her? Larry and the kids. Sandy didn’t go, though. I’m really amazed. I really didn’t think he’d ever get there. She agrees with me that Larry’s always been a good worker and good with the kids, but there were hardly any words spoken between the two unless she asked him a question. She mainly talked to little Larry. Lisa and Jenny were inseparable and they’re calling each other tonight. Becky and Larry were playing and teasing each other.

Later...

I just tried to call Larry, but there was no answer. I called Dad instead. They’re doing OK. Mom was out playing bingo.

Monday, February 27, 1995

 

Well, it’s now 19º in Springfield! I called and told Andy who was cracking up with me.

I got two letters from Bob today and I began letters to him, Kim, and my parents. Bob says there’s snow there. Tammy says it’s cold, but there’s no snow. She also said something about Bill’s car getting rammed while she was in the doctor’s office. She said she presented her evidence in court, swears it’s not his fault, but the judge threw it out. Her insurance company denied the claim.

Tonight, Goldie will be calling. In about an hour.

I exercised yesterday, so I’ll be typing and maybe watching TV.

Tuesday, February 28, 1995

 

Well, the kids hit the front yard late today, but that was cool cuz I knew they wouldn’t be out for hours cuz they came out at 5:30. They were only out a half hour to 45 minutes. Not surprisingly, it was after Tom came home and we were sitting in the living room together. God, are You sure you aren’t trying to tell us something?

We had pretty good sex earlier. Naturally, he didn’t cum. He conked out as I was getting really close, so he finished me off orally.

No call from Goldie and Al, so I guess they got hung up and will try tonight.

I can’t sleep just yet so I’m gonna go either read or do word puzzles.

I feel as if I’m forgetting to mention something of importance. Can’t think of it now, though, so I’ll be back later.

[edwardrichard10]

My Journey with Mr Fog Vapes: A Personal Review of the Best Disposable Vapes

Hey there! If you're reading this, chances are you're on the lookout for a great vape product. I’ve been on my own vaping journey for a while now, and today I want to share my experience with Mr Fog vapes. Whether you're a vaping newbie or a seasoned enthusiast, I’m sure you’ll find this post helpful in making your next vaping choice.

I’ve tried a variety of vapes over the years, but there’s something about the Mr Fog disposable vape that has truly stood out to me. In this post, I’ll walk you through why I’m such a fan, the features I love, and why I think you might enjoy them too. So, let’s dive right in!

What Makes Mr Fog Vape Stand Out?

First off, let me tell you—Mr Fog vapes are all about convenience, quality, and great flavors. I used to be hesitant about disposable vapes, but after trying Mr Fog disposable vape, my whole perspective changed. Here’s why I’m all in:

Ease of Use: You don't need to worry about refilling or charging, which is a huge plus for me. When I’m out and about, I want something simple. Just take it out of the box, and it’s good to go!

Sleek and Portable Design: The compact size of Mr Fog vapes makes them easy to slip into my pocket or bag. I’m always on the move, and this vape fits right into my lifestyle without being bulky.

Wide Range of Flavors: One of my favorite things about Mr Fog disposable vape is the variety of flavors. From fruity blends to more traditional options, there’s something for everyone. I’ve tried a few flavors, and they don’t disappoint.

The Convenience of Mr Fog Disposable Vape

Let’s talk a bit more about convenience, because it’s honestly one of the biggest selling points for me. Mr Fog disposable vapes are designed with simplicity in mind. There’s no fuss—just inhale and enjoy.

No Charging Needed: One of the things I love the most is not having to worry about charging. I’m not always near an outlet, and I don’t want to be tethered to a charger. With a disposable vape, I don’t have to stress about battery life. When it’s done, I toss it and grab a new one.

No Leaks or Mess: Another thing that I’ve had trouble with in the past with refillable vapes is leakage. With Mr Fog vapes, there’s none of that! The design is leak-proof, so I don’t have to worry about carrying around a mess.

Perfect for On-the-Go: I love having a vape that’s easy to use, especially when I’m traveling. Whether I’m out for a walk or at a party, I know I can grab my Mr Fog disposable vape and enjoy a smooth experience without any hassle.

Mr Fog Vape Flavors I Can’t Get Enough Of

If you’re anything like me, flavor is key when it comes to choosing a vape. I’ve tried a ton of different Mr Fog vapes, and I can honestly say they never disappoint. Here are a few of my all-time favorites:

Tropical Mix: This one is like a vacation in a vape. The combination of pineapple, mango, and coconut is so refreshing—it’s the perfect fruity blend.

Menthol Blast: If you’re into minty flavors, you’ve got to try this one. It’s cool, smooth, and gives that refreshing menthol sensation that hits just right.

Strawberry Banana: This is one of the most popular flavors, and I totally get why. The sweet, creamy banana mixed with the fresh strawberry taste makes this one a regular in my vape rotation.

Blueberry Raspberry: For those who love a tangy, sweet combo, this one’s a winner. The mix of tart raspberries and juicy blueberries creates a flavorful vape experience that I can’t put down.

Why I Trust Mr Fog Vapes

It’s not just about the flavor and ease of use—Mr Fog vapes are also a brand I trust. They’re known for using quality ingredients and making sure their products meet high standards. As someone who takes vaping seriously, I really appreciate this level of care.

Quality Ingredients: The juice inside Mr Fog disposable vape pens is made with top-notch ingredients. I’ve never experienced any harsh or unpleasant aftertaste, which is a big deal for me. It’s smooth and satisfying.

Consistent Performance: I’ve tried other disposable vapes in the past, and some were hit or miss. But Mr Fog vapes have always given me a consistent, reliable experience. Every time I pick one up, I know I’m getting a solid hit.

No Leaks or Spills: As I mentioned earlier, one of the frustrations with disposable vapes can be leakage. But with Mr Fog vapes, I haven’t had any issues. I love that I can trust them to stay in great shape, even when I toss them in my bag.

How to Choose the Best Mr Fog Vape for You

Choosing a vape that suits your needs can be a little tricky, especially with so many options on the market. But I’ve found that Mr Fog vapes offer something for everyone. Here are a few tips on how to pick the perfect one for you:

1. Think About Flavor Preferences

If you’re someone who loves sweet flavors, you might want to try something like Mr Fog disposable vape in Strawberry Banana or Tropical Mix. But if you prefer something cooler or more refreshing, the Menthol Blast might be more your style.

2. Consider the Nicotine Strength

Depending on your experience level, you’ll want to consider the nicotine strength. Mr Fog vapes offer options with varying nicotine levels, so you can find the one that best fits your preferences.

3. How Much You Vape

If you vape regularly, you might want to choose a Mr Fog disposable vape with a higher puff count. Some options offer up to 800 puffs, so you can enjoy your vape for a longer period of time without having to replace it.

4. Portability Needs

If you’re someone who’s always on the move, then you’ll definitely appreciate the compact and portable design of Mr Fog vapes. They fit easily into your pocket or bag without taking up too much space.

My Final Thoughts on Mr Fog Vapes

I’ve been vaping for quite a while now, and I can honestly say that Mr Fog vapes have earned a spot in my regular rotation. From the variety of flavors to the sleek and convenient design, they’ve made my vaping experience a whole lot better.

If you're in the market for a new vape and want something that’s reliable, flavorful, and easy to use, I highly recommend giving Mr Fog disposable vape a try. Trust me, you won’t be disappointed!

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[angelicyoongie]

Out of the Woods (III)

— pairing: wolf hybrid namjoon x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst, smut — word count: 11K — warnings: mentions of past abuse, explicit sexual content! — summary: Promising Jihyo that you were going to stay away from your writing for one weekend had been easy in theory, but much harder to actually do once you reached the little cabin the woods. To make matters worse, the only thing that rivals your inability to keep promises is your terrible luck – and after a particularly bad choice leads you to get lost in the mountains, you suppose that it's only karma that you end up face to face with a wolf that looks ready to rip your throat out.

Part I / II / III

Namjoon startles with a low growl at the knock at the door, ears twisting back as it opens to reveal the nurse alongside someone you haven’t seen before. “Mr. Kim, Miss Y/n, meet Yeonjun. He’s our hybrid shelter contact, and he has some information to share with you regarding Mr. Kim’s owner. I’ll leave you to it, but I’ll be back shortly,” You give the nurse a small nod before she leaves, your attention straying back to the blue-haired man standing just inside the door.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Yeonjun says, a warm smile on his lips. The wolf hybrid’s growl grows louder as Yeonjun’s eyes find yours, Namjoon bristling under your touch. “Don’t worry Mr. Kim, I’ll stay right here,” Yeonjun leans back against the wall, his posture relaxed and open despite the snarl on Namjoon’s lips. You squeeze his wrist in warning, begging him to calm down. You have no clue what Yeonjun is here for, but you don’t want Namjoon to ruin his chances of a good home by making a bad first impression. Namjoon’s growl stutters at your tight grip, and Yeonjun looks amused as the wolf hybrid forces himself to relax against the pillows behind his back. Namjoon settles for glaring at him instead, and you take that as a small win.

“Sorry, you had something to tell us?” You say.

“I do,” Yeonjun ruffles through the folder in his hand, eyes squinting slightly as he reads off the information. “It says here that the legal owner of Kim Namjoon, Mr. Kim Deok-ho, filed a missing hybrid report five years ago. Is that correct?” Namjoon offers a stiff nod, his jaw clenched tightly at the sound of his owner’s name. Your eyes grow wide at the new information. Five years? Namjoon was by himself for that long?

”It appears that Kim Deok-ho passed away a year after the report, due to a sudden heart attack. Since he had no relatives and has not left your ownership to someone else, you’re currently an ownerless hybrid.” You let out a shaky breath as Namjoon’s ears spring up at the information, his tail doing a half-hearted wag beneath the covers. “Based on the nurse’s reports of the old scars and marks on your arms and chest, we have reason to believe that mistreatment and abuse occurred during the ownership, and so even if someone from Kim Deok-ho’s past step forward in an attempt to claim you, it will be denied.” You slump back in your chair, desperately blinking away the tears blurring your vision. Thank god. At least he’ll never have to go back there.

”I take it that you agree with those observations?” Yeonjun gives a small smile at the relieved whimper Namjoon lets out, the wolf hybrid’s raspy yes filling the small room. Namjoon flips his hand over to grasp yours, his long fingers intertwining delicately with your own.

“Good, we’re on the same page then. The next thing we need to settle is what’s going to happen moving forward,” Yeonjun flicks over to a new page, pen hovering over the paper as he looks up at both of you. “A newly formed pack bond isn’t hard to notice when you know what to look for. I take it that you have no interest in going to the shelter?”

Namjoon brings your hand up to his chest; shaking his head as he says, “Stay with Y/n. Please.”

Yeonjun’s questioning gaze flickers over to you, and you quickly scramble out an agreement. “Namjoon can stay with me for as long as he wants,” You try your best to suppress a chuckle as Namjoon’s tail start wagging at your words, a faint blush blooming in his cheeks at the heavy thuds against the bed.

“Great!” Yeonjun smiles as he fills out his forms, “We need to do some standard background checks and we have some protocols to follow, but I don’t think there will be any issues. Just fill out this form and give it to the nurse later, and I’ll get the process started.” He places a pen and paper down on the small table near the door, giving the nurse a nod as she pokes her head in.

“We’re all done, just let me know when the form is ready,” He gives you and Namjoon a quick wave before he slips out of the door.

“Well then, I have some news too,” The nurse says. “Thankfully the operation went well, and Mr. Kim’s recovery should be fairly smooth. He’ll need to stay here for a few more days for observation as he did lose a lot of blood, but we don’t think there will be any issues,” She smiles.

“Now, since hybrids heal much faster than regular humans, we’ll have to do a few more check-ups than normal just to make sure you don’t wear the cast for too long. You’ll likely be able to remove the cast after three weeks, and then keep a brace on for a few more after that until you’re back to normal. You will be provided with a pair of crutches, but you’re stuck with bed rest for the first week to make sure you’re not putting too much pressure on your injury.” You can feel your back ache at the thought of having to spend a few weeks sleeping at the couch until you can get hold of another bed, but it’s for sure worth it if it means Namjoon will recover well.

“I think that should be all, do you have any questions?” You shake your head, a smile curling at your lips as the wolf hybrid copies your movement.

“That’s good then, I’ll leave you two be for now.” The nurse bids you both goodbye with a nod, the room falling into a sudden silence as she closes the door behind her. Namjoon flashes you a dopy smile as you turn your attention back to him. The wolf hybrid clutches your hand tightly to his chest as he shifts his upper body as close to your chair as possible, his warm brown eyes never straying from your face.

“Before I sign the papers, I just want to be sure that you’re really okay with staying with me. I promise I’ll do my best to take care of you, but Yeonjun might have some foster homes that are better suited for your recovery. My apartment is pretty small,” You grimace. You really aren’t lying when it comes to your home. Sure, you might have two bedrooms, but one of them is hardly even big enough to be a closet. It will be a tight squeeze with Namjoon while he’s injured, but you’ll manage as long as the wolf hybrid is certain.

“It’s .. okay. Want to stay .. with you,” Namjoon frowns as he works to find his words, his gaze turning a little desperate as if he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he takes too long.

“Of course. I’ll bring you home as soon as you can be discharged,” You squeeze his hand comfortingly. You can’t help but feel a little flutter of excitement at the thought of bringing him back to your apartment. “I should go fill out the form then,” You smile. Somehow, you think Namjoon will fit right in.

“Careful,” You wince as Namjoon almost stumbles into a wall, the wolf hybrid’s grip tightening around your shoulders as you try your best to hold him up. If there’s anything you’ve learned over the last couple of days in the hospital, it’s that Namjoon is stubborn. And apparently, that stubbornness is only amplified when it comes to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to use the crutches?” You ask as you try to fish up your keys from your pocket, the wolf hybrid’s tired breaths spilling across your neck.

“No crutches. Only need you,” Namjoon grumbles. You blame your stuttering heartbeat on the exhaustion you feel after practically carrying Namjoon from the hospital to your car, and then from your car to your apartment complex. Thank god you have an elevator, otherwise you have no idea how you would manage to get him up to the eight floor.

You let out a sigh of relief as you get your keys out, quickly shoving them into the lock to open the door. Namjoon’s ears spring up at the sight, his tail beginning to move behind his back at the pleasant smells that hit his sensitive nose. Everything smells like you, like warmth and comfort, and there’s nothing the wolf hybrid wants to do more than add his own scent to the mix, to make sure that others know that you’re taken. He hasn’t even been able to properly scent you since the woods, and the faint touches he’s been able to leave on your skin isn’t enough.

You help Namjoon step out of his shoes, carefully leading him down the narrow hallway of your apartment. “Here’s the second bedroom,” You nod to the first door you pass, “That’s my bedroom, and the last door on the right is the bathroom. The rest is an open concept living room and kitchen, as you can see.” Namjoon’s golden eyes carefully scan over your moderately sized apartment, his nose wrinkling as he picks up a scent he hadn’t noticed near the entrance.

“Dog?” Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he tries to hobble over to the couch. It takes you a second to catch on to what he said, the image of Sana and Jihyo cuddling on your couch a week back flashing in your mind as you struggle to hold him back.

“You’re supposed to head straight to bed,” You say, curling your fingers deeper into Namjoon’s side as he tries to wriggle out of your hold. “Namjoon, please,” You plead as the strain in your back begins to throb, your body definitely not made for almost carrying a fit wolf hybrid for an extended period of time.

Namjoon stops struggling at the tired tone in your voice, and you take the low whine that falls from his lips as an apology. You catch him throwing a narrowed look at the couch as he lets you lead him to your bedroom, and you make a mental note to maybe try to air the room out before he needs to use the bathroom. You didn’t even realize Sana’s scent would linger that long, but then again, she and Jihyo had spent all day glued to your couch.

“Here we go,” You carefully lower Namjoon down on your bed, helping him get situated and comfortable before propping his leg up with a few pillows. You sink down on the edge of the bed, a frown tugging at your lips as you notice how rough and threadbare the material of his clothes are. The only clothes Namjoon have are the ones he got from the hospital, but they’re obviously far from new. You were hoping to get him more situated before leaving him alone, but there’s no way you’re going to let him use clothes that seem like they might unravel at any moment when you have the funds to get him soft and better-fitting clothes.

“Would you be okay if I head out for a bit? I need to get–” Namjoon cuts you off with a pained whine, his hand closing firmly around yours as he says, “Please don’t go.” The wolf hybrid’s silver ears are flat against his head, another distressed noise rumbling out of his chest as he tries to tug you closer on the bed.

“It’s okay, I promise I won’t leave!” You say, your heart squeezing painfully at the panicked expression on Namjoon’s face. It’s too reminiscent of how he looked when you left him out in the woods, and that’s something you never want to revisit.

“We can order you some new clothes online and get them delivered here tomorrow! I’ll stay here for as long as you need me to. Is that alright with you?” Namjoon searches your gaze for a few seconds before he seems to find what he's looking for, the tension in his shoulders lessening as he rasps out a low thank you. “It's nothing to thank me for, it’s the least I can do,” You give his hand a soft squeeze.

“I’ll go make some dinner, you need to take your pain medication soon,” You can see the doubt in the wolf hybrid’s eyes, his hold tightening ever so slightly around your hand. “How about I leave the door open? You’ll be able to see me the entire time I’m cooking,” You say. It truly breaks your heart that Namjoon is so scared that you might abandon him, but can you really blame him? His first owner was abusive, and when he finally found someone – when he found you – who he felt strongly enough about to consider his pack, you had left him.

“Yeah,” Namjoon nods, his slender fingers slowly untangling from yours. The wolf hybrid’s eyes widens as you lean closer to fluff up the pillows behind his head, his tail doing a couple of surprised thuds against the mattress at the close proximity.

“Let me know if you need anything,” You smile. You can feel Namjoon’s gaze following your every movement as you cook an easy dinner, the position of your bed giving him a vantage point of both the couch and the kitchen behind it. Normally, being watched so intently would’ve made you feel a little uncomfortable, but with Namjoon, it almost feels reassuring to know the wolf hybrid isn’t letting you out of his sight. You don’t live in a bad part of town by any means, but it gives you that little extra ounce of protection you wasn’t even aware that you were craving.

“What about this one?” You only get a non-committal sound in response, and you shake your head with an amused huff as you add the sweater to your cart. Since all of Namjoon’s focus was on his food during dinner, it seems that he now refuses to look at anything that isn’t you, so that doesn’t leave you much choice but to pick out most of his clothes on your own. You had tried to keep a little distance between your bodies on your bed to make sure you couldn’t accidentally hurt him, but the wolf hybrid had gently tugged you closer with a displeased growl, not happy until your side was flush against his. You bite down harshly on your lip as Namjoon’s rough fingertips glide over the delicate skin on your wrist, the wolf hybrid seemingly more interesting in mapping out every inch of your arm, rather than what you’re trying to show him on the screen. You end up picking out some loose clothing, something Namjoon hopefully will like after not wearing clothes for years. You can tell he’s uncomfortable in the stiff hospital clothes, especially since the outfit seems to be a size or two too small. You do a last scan over your cart, happy with the assortment of soft earth tones you’ve picked out. Namjoon doesn’t strike you as a hybrid that would wear something overtly flashy, but if that’s something he wants to later, you’ll be more than happy to update his wardrobe.

“Okay, done! It should be here by tomorrow afternoon,” Namjoon perks up as you close the laptop in your lap, the wolf hybrid’s brown eyes flickering up to meet yours. You feel your breath getting caught in your throat as you take in how softhe looks, and you find yourself reaching out to brush Namjoon’s silver hair away from his lashes before you can stop yourself. Namjoon lets out a surprised rush of air at the contact, the warmth in his eyes almost scorching as he slowly moves his gaze around your face, taking the chance to drink in every detail of it. The wolf hybrid shifts his weight, and the loud creak of your bed is enough to make you hastily pull back, cheeks flushed as you stutter out a, “I-I uh, should probably get the couch ready.”

“Couch?” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Yeah, you’re taking the bed so I need somewhere to sleep too,” You say.

“Why? Just sleep .. with me,” The wolf hybrid frowns. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it aside from sleeping, you have done it before out in the woods after all, but your stomach flutters at the words before you can reel yourself in, warmth slowly climbing up the back of your neck.

“I can’t do that Namjoon,” You mentally pat yourself on the back for how steady your voice sounds, “The woods were different. We .. we can’t do that here.” Despite feeling like you might trust Namjoon with your life if the situation ever calls for it, you don’t actually know him. The past days in the hospital have been filled with tests and interviews with Yeonjun, and so you haven’t truly had the chance to really talk to the wolf hybrid yet. You have to at least be something akin to friends before you’re comfortable sleeping next to him.

“Oh,” The disappointment in Namjoon’s voice is obvious, his expression almost turning a little shameful as his ears begin to droop. “I’m sorry,” He mutters.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? You’ve been shifted for a long time, so it’s only natural that some things are a little different between human and animal,” Namjoon nods, but there’s something in his expression that looks a little closed off now – more hesitant. “Is there anything you need before I go to bed? Anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?” The wolf hybrid shifts his gaze around your room, pink lips parting and closing as if there’s something he can’t quite make up his mind to ask for.

“Can I .. scent you?” Namjoon murmurs. One of your childhood friends had a hybrid, a sweet little cat hybrid that always used to scent you when you came over after school. You learned then that scenting helps hybrids to calm down and feel more comfortable around new people and places faster, which lessened the shock when you first met Sana all those years ago, and it’s also why there’s not an ounce of hesitation in your voice as you say, “Of course.” The wolf hybrid’s head attention snaps back to you so fast you’re almost a little worried for his neck.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks, his warm eyes searching your face.

“I am. It’ll help you settle in here faster, right? So I really don’t mind,” You smile. Namjoon nods, pink lips pressed into a firm line as he gently takes a hold of your hand. He brings it up slowly to his face, a look of deep concentration in his eyes as he begins to rub his cheek against your wrist, making sure that he covers every visible inch of skin with his scent. Namjoon’s hold loosens ever so slightly, but just as you think the wolf hybrid is done, he leans down to swipe his tongue over your skin, leaving behind a more permanent scent mark. You bite down harshly on your lips, desperate to stifle the surprised sound bubbling up the back of your throat. The hybrids you had met before never did this during scenting. Namjoon’s ears begin to perk up the more his scent lingers on you, a content noise rumbling in his chest they begin to properly mix. Maybe it’s just a wolf thing, you decide. After all, he had scented you out in the woods in the same fashion before, so it's likely just something tied to his species that you weren’t familiar with. You allow Namjoon to switch out your hands, letting the wolf hybrid scent both of them to his heart’s content. He looks visibly more relaxed as he places your hand back in your lap, his tail beating against the bed in a steady rhythm.

“Better?” You ask.

“Better,” Namjoon confirms, a soft smile on his lips as he shifts back against the pillows. You take that as your cue to get ready for bed yourself, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

“Can .. door stay open?” Namjoon asks as you scoot of the bed, his eyes flickering hesitantly between you and the living room.

“It can.”

As you settle down into your freshly made couch, you can help but feel soothed at the sounds of the wolf hybrid getting comfortable in your bed. Your apartment suddenly feels a little warmer, a little more lived in, with the added noise of another person. You stare up at the dark ceiling with a smile, and the pleasant fluttering in your stomach tells you that if Namjoon decides to stay, your apartment might actually begin to feel like a home.

“Did you pick a movie?” You take a seat next to Namjoon on the couch, placing the popcorn bowl careful down between the two of you. The wolf hybrid nods at the screen, one of the newer blockbuster films already chosen and ready to be played. With his broken leg, there really isn’t much for Namjoon to do except watch movies or read, but you thankfully have a wall of books, and unlimited streaming services for him to use. The first two days of having Namjoon in your apartment were more awkward than you had expected. But then again, maybe it should have been weirder if it hadn’t, considering you had to help someone you barely know clean up and use the bathroom. It had been a learning curve to say the least; your cheeks stained a permanent pink until you managed to work out a good system. Namjoon’s new clothes had arrived quickly as well, and the wolf hybrid seemed pleased at the colours and the loose fit of the items you had chosen. You praised your own choices too; the baggy pants and slightly oversized shirts made helping him dress and undress a lot easier.

Though, there is one thing you haven’t been able to work out quite yet. Namjoon. Despite the wolf hybrid’s initial distrust of the crutches, he seems to have really taken to them now, especially once he realized that using them meant he could just trail after you himself without you having to struggle holding him up around the apartment. It is cute that Namjoon has been glued to your side ever since you arrived at your apartment, but with how he’s straining himself to hobble over to the front door every hour despite the doctor’s request of him not getting out of bed, it’s starting to worry you. The behaviour reminds you of your time spent with him the woods, and how he would constantly scout the area you travelled through for danger. You need Namjoon to relax and heal, but it’s been difficult, especially since the hybrid hasn’t said much outside of yes and no for the last four days. Before you left the hospital, the hybrid doctor you had spoken with had made it very clear that it was important to engage Namjoon in conversation, as his speech would only improve the more he used it. It’s beginning to feel more and more like you’ve just brought home a guard dog and not a person, and it makes your chest uncomfortably tight to think that Namjoon might not feel safe enough in your home to let his instincts take the back seat and just be.

You’re startled out of your thoughts as you suddenly hear a howling laughter coming from the hallway. You know it’s just some neighbours finally getting home after work, but Namjoon stiffens at the noise, ears perked in the direction of your door. It’s obvious that the wolf hybrid has the urge to protect, one hand already reaching for his crutches – so you just hope you’ve read the signs right when you hastily grab Namjoon’s hand, tugging it into your lap to cover it with your own. Namjoon freezes, his jaw clenched tightly as he slowly moves his eyes from the screen to your intertwined hands.

“Do you mind? It seems like this part is going to be a little scary,” You gesture to the action scene playing out on the TV, plastering on your best sheepish smile as you hold the wolf hybrid’s hand tighter. You feel his fingers twitch in your hold as another round of loud laughter rings out in the hallway, but to your surprise, Namjoon only takes a deep breath before he settles back against the couch. He flips your hand, easily entangling his fingers with yours as his bright eyes travel back to the screen. For what feels like the first time in four days, you can sense Namjoon finally letting his shoulders drop, his tail doing a half-hearted wag against the couch as he relaxes. The rough fingertips grazing your knuckles at random intervals keeps you distracted enough that you have no clue what the movie you just watched was really about, your hand tingling with the sensation of Namjoon’s careful touches.

As the end credits begin to roll, you turn on the couch, facing the wolf hybrid more directly as you say, “Namjoon, are you okay? You’ve just seemed a little tense and closed off these last days. I just want to make sure that I’m not doing anything that’s making you feel uncomfortable.”

“Not you, just me,” Namjoon rasps, his lips pressing into a firm line, “Don’t want to be .. too much.”

“Too much?” You frown.

“Old owner wanted me to be quiet. No scenting .. Said it wasn’t natural,” Namjoon’s ears fall flat against his head. “Couldn’t help it, was too young. So owner punished me.” The wolf hybrid’s eyes briefly flicker up to meet yours, the usual warmth hardened and cold and sad as he lowers his head as says, “Sorry. You can punish too.”

“Namjoon,” You whisper, swallowing harshly around the lump in your throat. You can feel your chest crack, eyes growing blurry as you think of a younger Namjoon. You know that all hybrids need psychical contact to stay happy and healthy, and that it’s especially important for younger hybrids to make sure that they learn about their instincts and needs. Your childhood friend’s hybrid was never denied pets or cuddles, the cat hybrid practically always glued to someone’s side because anything else would’ve been inhumane. The fact that Namjoon was abused for wanting something as harmless as a hug, or a scratch behind his ears makes you want to bring his owner back to life just so that you can make sure he receives the proper punishment for his crimes. Death seems too easy of a way out of the horrible things he did.

“I will never do that to you. You never have to worry about being too much of anything. Wanting someone to talk to and touch is completely natural,” You hesitantly bring a hand up to cup Namjoon’s cheek, lifting his head enough to meet his gaze. Your fear of Namjoon not wanting your touch flies out the window the moment the wolf hybrid leans his whole head into your palm, nuzzling his cheek against your hand as the bushy tail behind his back picks up speed at the contact. It dawns on you then, that after the first night he scented you, Namjoon had withdrawn completely. Him following you around and checking the door was probably the best thing he could to do to feel close to you while still keeping his distance – because that was what he had been forced to adapt to. You softly clear your throat, keeping your voice as level as possible as you give him a gentle smile and say, “If there’s something you want, you just have to ask. I promise I’ll do my best to make it happen for you.”

Namjoon angles his head in your palm, soft lips brushing over your wrist as he murmurs a quiet thank you into your skin. “Can I … ask you something else?” You can’t help the way your heart flips as Namjoon tries to follow the hand you remove from his cheek, the wolf hybrid letting out a perturbed whine.

“Sure,” He rasps, clutching your intertwined fingers tighter to make sure you won’t remove them too.

“How did you get caught in the trap?” You wince as your eyes drift to Namjoon’s cast. Jihyo had made some calls while you were with Namjoon in the hospital, and it had turned out that the old owners of the cabin had left out multiple bear traps many years ago. It had been so long that they had forgotten they were even there. You're honestly surprised that the trap still worked considering how rusted and old it had looked clamped around Namjoon’s leg, but then again the wolf hybrid is big when’s he’s shifted. Not the same as a full-grown bear of course, but his weight was obviously enough to set it off.

“Wasn’t paying attention,” Namjoon says. The dejected look on his face feels like someone has punched you straight in your stomach as he mutters, “Was distracted. Sad.” Because of you. ”Was going to leave when the trap stopped me,” Namjoon frowns. That explains why it took so long to find him, and why he had moved so far from where you first met him. If it hadn’t been for the trap, you likely never would’ve seen Namjoon again.

The wolf hybrid’s face is pinched as he tries to formulate the sentence in his head, the words a little jumbled but clear enough that you understand what he’s trying to say, ”Trap hurt, but you came back. So pain is okay.” For all the things you want to say, the only thing that comes out is just a saddened, “I’m sorry.”

Namjoon shakes his head. The wolf hybrid’s golden brown eyes are warmwarmwarm, his voice dripping with honeyed content as he says, “Found you, so everything’s okay now. Found my pack.” Your body moves on instinct as you shift closer, untangling your hand from Namjoon’s to gently wrap them around his shoulders. The position is a little awkward, but you couldn’t care less about the weird twist in your lower back as the wolf hybrid collapses into your embrace with a low whine, his face tucked securely into your neck. The soft fur of Namjoon's ears brush against your chin as he inhales your scent, a shaky breath escaping his lips as your calming scent washes over him. He doesn’t scent you like you expected him to; instead, he just seems happy to be this close to you, his breath spilling across your neck as he tries to press himself even closer.

“Yeah,” You breathe. It seems you both have.

It’s almost too easy to grow attached to Namjoon. The last two weeks since you brought Namjoon home has passed without a hitch, the wolf hybrid finally having settled properly into your apartment. His speech has improved drastically since you talked that night, and he’s been doing better and better for each day as he makes an effort to ask about your life, or your work. With the way Namjoon’s face lit up at the mention of your profession, it felt like another puzzle piece was falling snuggly into place. You’ve never had someone be so interested and intrigued by your writing before, but then again, you’ve never met someone who devours books in the same way that Namjoon does either. The wolf hybrid breezes through a book in only a couple of days, and the sound of paper being turned alongside with Namjoon’s low grumbles as he finds something interesting has become your new white noise as you work. You were certain you wouldn’t be able to write with someone else in the apartment, let alone the same room, but Namjoon blends so seamlessly into your life that it’s far from an issue.

But, with attachment, also comes fear. You call Jihyo on your way to the grocery store, your mind busy and your heart even heavier as you make your way through the spring rain. Like the sky, you pour out all of the insecurities and worries you’ve kept bottled up, Jihyo only spurring your rambling on with a few encouraging noises.

“I’m scared,” You admit. “Is it weird how fast we’re moving? The more I get to know him the more it feels like he was always supposed to be there.” Jihyo lets out a low hum as she thinks.

“I don’t think so Y/n. Sometimes you just find people you click with, there’s nothing wrong with that. And it’s not like you’ve only been hanging out for an hour every now and then, you’ve been living together for two weeks. It’s understandable that you would grow close a little quicker than normal.”

“But that’s not all, is it?” Jihyo adds, as you keep silent.

“No .. I just don’t want him to regret anything. I’m the first nice human he’s seen in years, I’m just scared that his affection is a little misplaced,” You grimace.

“That may be, but Namjoon is still capable of making his own choices. The people at the hospital treated him nicely, and you don’t see him rushing to come home with them.” You can hear Jihyo’s teasing smile through the phone.

“I guess,” You mutter. Despite his initial hostility toward the staff, Namjoon had opened up after the first day there. He had stopped growling and trying to bite the doctors' hands off, and he had even offered the kind woman that checked upon him the most a sweet smile after she had brought him his dinner.

“There’s no guarantees in life Y/n. You don’t know if Namjoon will change his mind in a week, or a month or a year. But I do know that you would respect his wishes and let him go if it ever comes down to that. I think Namjoon knows that too, and that’s why he’s not afraid to open up to you. Because you genuinely care about him,” Jihyo voice is soft through the phone. “You have no guarantees, but some things are worth the risk.” You didn’t even have to think twice to know that Namjoon was worth it. You already knew.

You briefly glance up from your computer as a steaming mug is placed next to it, the wolf hybrid giving you a dimpled smile before he hobbles back to the couch. You raise the cup to your mouth; a relieved sigh leaving your lips as you inhale the strong aroma of the coffee Jihyo gifted you last month. You hold back a groan as you take your first sip, the strain in your eyes already feeling a little more bearable due to the hybrid’s sweet actions.

Namjoon does this a lot, you’ve come to realize. Even with his injury, the wolf hybrid tries his best to do little things for you. It’s everything from bringing you coffee when your energy starts running out, to organizing your scattered notes, to tearing you away from your unfinished chapters when the words just won’t flow anymore. Your cheeks are honestly starting to ache from the smile that seems to be constantly tugging at your lips. You take another sip of the hot beverage, nearly choking on the burning liquid as you notice the two new emails in your inbox. You open the hospital email first, the standardized note doing little to calm your nerves as you skim through the reminder of Namjoon’s appointment next week. You know the wolf hybrid is itching to get the heavy cast off in exchange for a lighter brace, so he’ll be happy to know that his leg is healing as it should be.

You push through the light tremor in your hands as you go to the next email, Yeonjun’s name creating a flurry of nerves to erupt in your stomach. You haven’t formally adopted Namjoon yet. The papers you signed were for a temporary stay while the shelter did more extensive research into your funds and background, so the notice you’ve been waiting for since you left the hospital is finally here. You’ll finally know if you've passed their tests or not. You hastily click the message before you can talk yourself out of it, your eyes scanning frantically over the page until you find the section you were looking for. You slump back in your chair, eyes growing wide as you read the same sentence over and over. You’re eligible to adopt Namjoon if he wants to stay with you.

“Hey Namjoon,” You grin. The gray ears on Namjoon’s head perk up at the sound of his name, the wolf hybrid’s bright questioning eyes meeting yours as you say, “How do you feel about steak tonight?”

“Smells good,” You swear you almost have a heart attack as Namjoon sneaks up behind you, the wolf hybrid sniffing the cooking meat over your shoulder. You have no idea how he manages to be this quiet with crutches.

“Good! They should be done in a few minutes,” You say as you flip the steaks over, turning down the heat to make sure they don’t get burned. You can feel the heat from Namjoon’s body lingering behind you, the wolf hybrid still rooted in place. You bite back a surprised squeal as Namjoon’s arm wraps around your waist, tugging you back a small step so that he can hook his chin over your shoulder.

“Is this okay?” You stiffen as Namjoon’s husky voice brushes against your ear, a shiver running down your spine at the close proximity. You’re no stranger to hugging or holding hands after living with Namjoon for two weeks, but this feels more .. intimate. Different.

“Of course,” You say. You suck your lower lip between your teeth as Namjoon’s fingers spray across your waist, the firm grip making your head spin as he begins to rub his cheek along your shoulder. Oh, you realize. He’s scenting you. So far Namjoon has only scented your wrists, and you understand now why he decided to limit himself to that, because this – this just feels like so much more. The wolf hybrid lets out a pleased huff as he moves to nose along your throat, his soft hair tickling your neck as he does his best to cover your scent with his own.

You can feel your eyes fluttering shut at the gentle touches, your head tilting to the side to allow Namjoon more access to your skin. You feel the rumble in Namjoon’s chest before you hear it, and it quickly dawns on you that you have once again barred your neck to the alpha, submitted, as teeth begin to nip at your sensitive throat. You clutch the spatula in your hand like it’s a lifeline, trying your best to focus on how the metal is digging into your skin rather than how Namjoon’s fingers have started trailing up and down your waist, leaving fires in their wake. You’re doing good, you think. Just don’t think about it. It’s natural, it’s okay–

Your eyes fly open as Namjoon’s tongue drags over the gentle bite marks on your skin, a choked whine escaping your throat. The wolf hybrid stills against your neck, lips resting against your throat as his tail wags furiously behind his back. You can’t tell whether it’s Namjoon’s or your own heart that’s beating so harshly against your ribcage, the wolf hybrid’s naturally woodsy smell making you feel lightheaded at how tightly it’s wrapped around you. You both stand frozen in place, embarrassment beginning to creep up your chest as Namjoon rubs his cheek against your shoulder one last time, his voice deep and raspy as he says, “You smell good.” You offer him a dazed nod, not trusting you voice. Your eyes stay locked on the slightly charred vegetables as the wolf hybrid pulls away. You can hear him clearly now, how he slowly moves his way back to the couch. You let out shuddering breath once you deem him far enough away, forcing your knees to stop shaking and the butterflies in your stomach to calm down as you finish preparing dinner.

“I have something to ask you,” You say. You figure you might as well bite the bullet considering you’ve only been pushing your food around for the last five minutes. Namjoon gives you an encouraging smile around the food in his mouth, his ears perked and attentive.

“I heard back from the shelter today,” You pause as Namjoon’s eyes widen, his jaw working furiously to get rid of the large piece of steak in his mouth. You stifle a snort, resting your chin in your palm as you wait for him to finish.

“Go on,” Namjoon swallows harshly. “Yeonjun told me that everything checks out. My income and credentials are good enough to officially adopt you,” You say. “That is, if you want me to?” You hastily add, a sliver of fear rushing through your veins as the wolf hybrid’s face becomes hard to read.

“Do you?” Namjoon asks.

“Want to adopt you? Yes. I know I might not have the most space to offer you, but there’s nothing I’d love more.” The thought of Namjoon leaving you makes your chest feel hollow and tight, but at the end of the day, it’s the wolf hybrid’s decision. Namjoon regards you silently for a few more seconds, his brown eyes searching your face one last time before his own crumbles with relief.

“Then adopt me. Please,” He rasps, “This is more than enough, I just want to stay with you.” You can’t hold back the smile that blooms on your face, a matching grin tugging at Namjoon’s lips as you say, “Deal.”  

It isn’t until later, when you go to bring out your sheets from your closet that Namjoon stops you. The wolf hybrid is resting on the foot of your bed, his fingers loosely clasped around your wrist as he says, “Stay.”

He clears his throat at the confused look in your eyes, his ears shifting nervously as he nods to the bed. “I know your back hurts from sleeping on the couch, and I promise I’ll keep to myself. Just .. sleep here with me?” You cast an uncertain glance at your bed, trying to calculate just how much space there will be between the two of you. Your back is sore, and the long hours working at your desk don’t exactly make it better. You have ordered a new bed for the extra bedroom, but that has yet to arrive. You probably should’ve realized the website was a little shady considering just how good of a deal the bed was. You sigh.

“I’ll stay.” You’re tired of feeling like you’re seventy years old when you wake up, and your back really needs some proper rest. You help Namjoon manoeuvre under the covers before you get yourself ready for bed. It feels weird slipping into it with Namjoon already there, the wolf hybrid giving you an amused grin at the groan that escapes when your back hits the soft mattress. You can feel the tenseness in your muscles melting away as you drag the duvet up to your nose, your hand blindly reaching for the bedside lamp until the room is plunged into darkness.

“Good night,” You whisper.

“Sweet dreams Y/n.” The warmth and security of Namjoon’s body being so close to yours drags you under before you know it, and truth be told, you can’t remember the last time you slept so well.

You huff as you drag the heavy laundry basket from the spare bedroom. The new bed you ordered has been sitting inside the room for a week, but it has yet to be used. You and Namjoon came to a silent agreement to just forget that it’s even there. As you drag the basket into the living room, you find your gaze automatically drifting to the wolf hybrid. You can’t help but feel guilty as you watch Namjoon lean against the balcony, the wolf hybrid bathed in golden light as the sun begins to set. Namjoon turns slightly, his ears picking up a sound you can’t hear from inside the apartment. The wolf hybrid’s eyes flutter as a soft gust of wind ruffles his hair, his tail wagging slowly at the fresh air. Still, you know it’s not enough. It’s the faint frown on Namjoon’s face that fuels your guilt, because despite his reassurances that this is all he needs, you know it’s a lie. He’s a wolf hybrid. He needs more space, he needs fresher air, and he needs the forest. He’s not made to live in an apartment in the middle of a bustling city, and especially not after living by himself for years out in the wilderness. This may be all he needs, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t happy.

Now that the weather has begun to grow warmer, Namjoon has started spending more and more time on your balcony. It’s been five weeks since the accident, so the bulky cast on his leg is switched out for a lighter brace, but his leg still isn’t strong enough to actually go for a walk outside. You think you both have started to go a little stir-crazy after hardly leaving the apartment for so long, but thankfully the doctor let you know at the last check-up that he can likely remove the brace and start using his leg slowly from next week. Yet, the parks around your area can’t compare in the slightest to the woods around Jihyo’s cabin. Namjoon is his own person, but with the papers you signed last week, he’s now also partially your responsibility. And you just want to do what’s best for the both of you.

You shake your head, huffing out a low curse as you bring the laundry to washing machine inside your bathroom. You chew mindlessly on your lip as you think, getting a little lost in your own thoughts as you watch the clothes being tossed around inside the machine. The soft flesh is almost bitten raw as you come to a conclusion. You don’t need the city in the same way that the wolf hybrid needs the forest. In all honestly, you’re starting to grow a little sick of the constant noise. The only thing you need is good Wi-Fi and well .. Namjoon. You close the bathroom door behind you with a firm snap, the guilt in your stomach slowly turning into excitement as you watch Namjoon push away from the balcony and make his way inside. You think you know how to fix this.  

Namjoon lets out a strained huff as he shifts on the couch. You can feel your concentration slipping further with each movement, the words in front of you bleeding together as you lose your place for the tenth time in the last thirty minutes. You know the wolf hybrid is anxious to get the brace off, but he literally only has to hold on for twelve more hours until it’s time for his appointment. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he keeps his book in his lap, his neck bent at an awkward angle as he tries to continue reading it. The wolf hybrid’s chest is falling and rising a little heavier than normal, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he keeps squirming, his gold tinted eyes nearly burning through the pages with the intensity in his gaze. You place your book down on the couch with a sigh.

“Namjoon,” You can feel your heart still in your chest as the wolf hybrid’s dark eyes

immediately fly up to find yours, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he has around the bound pages. “You know it’ll be easier to read your book if you– Oh,” Your mouth runs dry. You had snatched the book out of Namjoon’s hand to bring it up higher, but it didn’t quite cross your mind that maybe it had been placed there .. strategically. Namjoon is big, and the thick bulge straining against the gray fabric of his sweatpants leaves absolutely nothing to your imagination.

Your forcibly tear your eyes away, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you hastily flip the book around to get a proper look at the cover. It appears that Namjoon must’ve found the books you had stashed away in the other bedroom, those that are just tastefully decorated porn. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Namjoon’s voice is caught between a growl and a whine, the sound strangled and unsure as he reaches for his crutches, “I’ll just uh, go take a cold shower.”

“Do you want me to help?” You snap your mouth shut, horrified at the words that just bypassed your filter. The crutches scatter to the floor as the wolf hybrid turns back to face you, his voice breathless as he says, “What?”

You carefully place Namjoon’s book down on the couch, unsure if you should take the out he inadvertently just gave you. You know this is going into territory beyond just friends or roommates, but then again, your relationship is already a little too intimate to just call it that. But, you still don’t know if that’s because Namjoon has been depraved of human touch for so long that he’s trying to catch up to everything he missed out on, or because he actually likes you. You’ve already accepted your growing feelings for Namjoon, but you’re not sure this is a risk you’re willing to take. You should probably pretend that this never happened. You jump as Namjoon gently tilts your head up, his golden eyes dark as he says, “Y/n, what did you ask me?”

Or maybe, for once in your life, you should take a risk. The wolf hybrid’s gaze follows your throat as you swallow dryly, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you softly repeat, ”Do you want me to help?” The low growl that spills from Namjoon’s mouth makes your thighs clench.

“Fuck,” Namjoon curses, the dark look in his eyes growing wilder as he rasps out a strained, “Please.” Your knees hit the floor before you can even think about it, and another low growl rumbles in Namjoon’s chest as you look up at him.

“Your leg,” You eye the awkward way Namjoon has twisted himself, the wolf hybrid letting out an impatient huff as you wait for him to settle down properly on the couch. You slowly trail your fingers up his good leg once he’s situated, the injured one resting on the coffee table behind your back. You shuffle forward until you’re properly kneeling between Namjoon’s outstretched thighs, your hands resting on the firm muscles.

You keep your eyes locked on the wolf hybrid as you ease your hands up under his baggy shirt. You suck in a breath as you feel the taut and defined abs underneath your fingertips, the muscles jumping as you explore Namjoon’s body. You knew that the wolf hybrid was in good shape after being so active for many years, but the extra food and proper nutrition he’s been getting ever since you brought him home has really filled him out in the right places. You push Namjoon’s shirt up as your fingers trail higher, the firm skin making you bite back a moan. Namjoon is absolutely ripped. Goosebumps rise on Namjoon’s skin as he lets your hands slide across his stomach, the heavy breaths falling from his lips hitching as they glide down down down until your fingers are hooked into the waistband of his sweats. His hips rise off the couch enough to help you pull them off, and the wolf hybrid hastily works his good leg out of the material to give you more room. Namjoon’s hard cock is straining against his boxers, a patch of pre-cum already seeping through the material.

”Fuck, you’re big,” You breathe, biting down harshly on your lips as the wolf hybrid’s cock twitches at your words. Namjoon lets out a raspy whine as you press soft kisses to the inside of his thighs, not stopping until you reach the dark fabric clinging to his hips.

”Is this still okay?” You check, your cunt clenching around nothing as you look up to see how just wrecked Namjoon already looks. The wolf hybrid’s pupils are blown wide, and the veins in his arms look like they’re ready to pop out of his skin from how tightly he’s gripping onto the couch. Namjoon barely manages to nod before he throws his head back with a moan, your hot breath spilling across his skin as you lean down to mouth at his clothed cock. You lick against the already damp material, your nose trailing along the thick length. It doesn’t take long before Namjoon’s chest rumbles, his voice low and deep as he says, ”Y/n, no teasing.”

A shot of arousal travels down your spine at the wolf hybrid’s dominating tone, and you waste no time pulling his boxers down his legs, Namjoon quickly stepping out of it like he did with his sweats. Your nails dig lightly into the wolf hybrid’s thighs as you take in the sight of his cock, the thick and long length making your eyes widen. Namjoon is so big you can’t even properly close your fist around him, his shaft already glistening with pre-cum. You quickly rub your thumb across his slit as another drop forms, using it to coat the rest of his length as you lean in closer, just enough to press feather light kisses to the head of it. The wolf hybrid gasps at the contact, and you peak up to find his eyes shut tight, a light sheen of sweat on his face as he strains to hold himself back from touching you, tail wagging wildly behind his back. You press another kiss to the pinkish head of his cock, the pressure a little firmer as you open your mouth enough to take him in, swirling your tongue around the tip.

”Fuck, you feel so good,” Namjoon moans. His thighs clenches at the wet hotness around his cock, fingers twitching by his side as he digs them into the couch cushions. You begin to push down further on his length, trying your best to relax your throat as you slowly bob your head on Namjoon’s cock, hand stroking the rest of it to match the rhythm of your mouth. You moan as you feel the heavy weight of the wolf hybrid’s cock resting on your tongue, the slightly salty taste only spurring you on further as you tighten your lips around him. You slide your free hand up his thigh, grasping his tense fingers to bring them to your hair. You can tell Namjoon was itching to touch by the way he immediately gathers your soft locks between his fingers, curling them until he has a nice grip behind your head.

”Baby,” You look up just in time to meet Namjoon’s hooded gaze, a whine pressing up your throat at the desperate hunger in his eyes. The vibrations makes the wolf hybrid’s hips jerk, the sudden motion making you choke as his cock brushes against the back of your throat. The grip in your hair tightens as Namjoon tries to pull your back, but the apology dies on his lips as you deliberately swallow him down even further, refusing to let him tug you off.

“Look at you,” The wolf hybrid groans, ”You were made for this, weren’t you baby?” You can only hum in response, Namjoon’s words making your cunt throb with need as you futilely try to rub your thighs together to create some friction. The wolf hybrid’s hand follows the movements of your head as you up your pace, your lips coming down to touch the fingers wrapped around his base as you take him in faster. Your name rolls of Namjoon’s tongue like a prayer as he watches you swallow down his cock, his abs clenching as you don’t let up on the speed.

”Fuck, your mouth looks so pretty stuffed full of my cock,” Namjoon growls. Trying to not choke on the stiff length in your mouth has distracted you enough that you don’t notice the weight forming underneath your fingers until you’re staring down at a fully formed knot. You don’t have much time to think about it before you feel Namjoon’s grip in your hair tighten, his chest rumbling as he helps you swallow down another inch of his cock. You’re almost at the base, almost touching his knot with only a couple of fingers between the taut skin and your lips.

“I– shit, I'm not going to last.” Tears spring to your eyes as you hum around the wolf hybrid’s length, the vibrations making Namjoon’s breaths turn harsher, louder, as your determination grows. You can feel Namjoon’s impending orgasm before he even manages to stutter out a broken warning, the grip in your hair bordering on painful as you suck harder, your tongue dragging along his length one last time before you feel the knot under your fingers begin to throb.

”Oh, fuck– Baby,” You cling to Namjoon’s toned thighs, nails digging into his skin as you feel the first burst of cum hit your throat. The wolf hybrid’s hard cock pulses as he lets out a loud moan, the tail behind his back stilling as he releases his load. You whimper as you feel spurt after spurt trail down your throat, breathing becoming more and more difficult until you’re forced to pull back to swallow it down easier. You gently bob your head, hand once again stroking Namjoon’s length as you coax him through his orgasm.

“Y/n,” Namjoon whines, his legs beginning to tremble from overstimulation as you swipe your tongue one last time over the head of his cock, swallowing down the last of the salty substance lingering in your mouth. You can feel the wetness between your own legs as you pull back to press a chaste kiss to Namjoon’s knee, the wolf hybrid loosening the grip he has on your hair to gently massage his fingers into your scalp. A blowjob has never left you so turned on before, but as Namjoon’s gentle touches against the dull stinging in your scalp continues, the throbbing between your legs is forced to take a backseat as your heart overflows with fondness at how he always finds a way to take care of you too.

You glance up to find Namjoon’s warm eyes already looking at you, the hunger in them still there. ”Let me return the favour,” Namjoon rasps as the hand in your hair glides down over your shoulders, all the way down to the hand resting on his leg. You want it so bad, but– ”Later,” You wince at the hoarseness in your throat, gently patting Namjoon’s injured leg as you say, “Let’s save it for later when your leg has healed.”

”Hmm, you better baby,” The air gets knocked out of your lungs at the smirk Namjoon gives you, the points of his canines just poking out over his lips as he leans back to catch his breath. You take the moment to marvel at the golden skin under your hands, at how Namjoon’s muscles dance underneath your fingertips. Baby. It makes your head swim in the best way. You grin as you trail a finger over the wolf hybrid’s softening cock, Namjoon’s good leg kicking out in protest as you touch the sensitive skin. He’s still dripping, the knot at the base of his cock almost gone. You push up from your knees with a soft groan, but Namjoon catches your hand before you can leave, his gray ears pulling back.

”Where are you going?” The worry in his handsome feature is obvious, and you reach out to smooth the furrow between his brows.

”I’m just going to get a towel to get you cleaned up,” You smile. You can tell the wolf hybrid is still reluctant to let you go, but he eventually relents, squeezing your fingers before he releases it.

You almost grimace at your own reflection as you run the towel under the lukewarm water. You look absolutely wrecked.Your hair is a mess, and you quickly splash some water on your face to attempt to make yourself look a little more presentable. Namjoon cleans himself up quickly as you go to grab something to soothe the rasp in your throat, the wolf hybrid readjusting his sweats around his hips as you settle down next to him.

”Namjoon–” Your breath hitches as he suddenly leans in, the wolf hybrid’s hand reaching up to cup your cheek as he places soft pecks against your lips. You melt into his touch, eagerly moving your mouth against his as you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers curling into the long hair at his nape. A pleased rumble sounds from Namjoon’s chest as you open you lips enough for his tongue to meet yours. You allow yourself to drown in Namjoon – the gentle touch on your cheek and the passionate kisses pulling you under until your mind grows hazy, your lungs screaming for air when you finally break away from his lips.

The wolf hybrid wastes no time moving his lips down your jaw, pressing gentle pecks against your skin all the way down to your neck. Namjoon’s tail wags steadily behind his back as he inhales your scent, the soft kisses turning into nips and licks as he marks your throat. You try your best to get your ragged breath under control as Namjoon takes his time scenting your neck. The wolf hybrid presses a kiss just below your ear; his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he murmurs out a fond, “I like you so much.”

”What?” You squeak, your eyes growing wide as you tug Namjoon back. Even if this is what you’ve been dying to hear, you can’t help but feel a little anxious. Anxious that this might be a mistake, that Namjoon’s affection might be a little misplaced, but still– ”I like you,” He repeats, the confidence in his voice wavering as he says, ”I don’t want this to just be a one time thing. I want this – us – to be more.”

You find yourself nodding along to Namjoon’s words before he’s even finished, a shy grin blooming on your face as you say, ”Me too. I like you too, so much.” Namjoon’s face lights up like the sun at your confession, his ears perked and his tail moving so quickly behind his back you can’t even keep track of it. The pure adoration you find in the wolf hybrid’s eyes make you flush, but Jihyo’s words keep you from pulling away. You have no guarantees that this will work out, but you know that you would be a fool if you don’t even try.

”Good,” Namjoon grins. You card your fingers through Namjoon’s silver locks, just high enough to scratch gently behind one of the wolf hybrid’s ears. Namjoon turns into putty in your hands, his head slumping against your shoulder to allow you easier access to his ears as he lets out a pleased noise. You let out a small giggle, brushing your lips against his cheek as you whisper, ”Good.”

“So ..” You extend your arm behind you, watching Namjoon intently as you say, ”What do you think?” The wolf hybrid’s head tilts as he takes in his surroundings, his gray ears twitching as he tries to pinpoint where all the different sounds are coming from. You’re standing in front of a quaint little cottage in the woods, about an hour drive away from the city and your current apartment. You had fallen head over heels for the property the moment you first saw it, the beautiful stone and wood building screaming your name as you had clicked through the photos. It does need a little TLC, but it’s nothing you and Namjoon can’t fix. The cottage looks like a dream with the lush trees and colourful flowers encasing it, and you can’t help but think that this is the home you’ve been waiting for. The wolf hybrid’s face is unreadable as his golden eyes scan the area, but you notice that his tail twitches, as if he’s trying to hold himself back from getting excited.

“What’s this?” Namjoon strides around the car with ease, no trace of his injury left as he intertwines your fingers with his.

“Well, it’s ours. If you want it,” You bite down on your lip in anticipation as surprise flickers across Namjoon’s face, the wolf hybrid quickly moving his gaze back to the cottage, and the dense woods behind it. “I do,” Namjoon breathes, a brilliant smile settling on his face, “It’s perfect.”

“Oh thank god,” You sigh dramatically, collapsing against the wolf hybrid’s side as he rolls his eyes. He quickly wraps his arm around your shoulder, tugging you close enough to nose against your neck.

”But are you sure you want to leave the city?” Namjoon says, his tone a little worried at the prospect of you leaving everything you have behind.

You circle your arms around the wolf hybrid’s waist, shifting your position enough to allow you to look up at Namjoon’s face as you say, ”I can write anywhere. The only thing that I need is you,” You rise slightly off the ground, just enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ”And good Wi-Fi,” You add with a grin.

Namjoon snorts as he dips his head down to fit his lips properly against yours, the kiss lazy and sweet as the early summer breeze ruffles your hair. The last four months have thrown you for a loop you never could have expected, but as you stand here with Namjoon, you realize that maybe that’s the beauty of it all. Life might be uncertain, but what isn’t, is that you love Namjoon, and Namjoon loves you back. And that’s all you need to know.

a/n: it took some time but out of the woods is finally finished! i really hope you enjoyed wolf!namjoon’s solo story, he’s really just a big babie and he deserves the best. :( if you liked the story then please drop me a reblog/comment, that would mean the world to me! as always, see you all soon and stay safe! <3 and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖 i would really appreciate the support!

[the-swedes-knees]

Time in A Bottle (Agent Mobius x Reader)

Summary: Everyone has a guilty pleasure. For Mobius, it's a slice of pie in a very specific slice of time.

Word Count: 1.8k

Located in the middle of Downtown, bordering on the corner of old-time druggies and newly gentrified condos was a moderate sized building with an exorbitant monthly rent. 

It was a theme restaurant, if the theme was 'we opened in 1953 and we'll be damned if we change the decor'- done up in chrome and frosted glass windows that clashed against the surrounding brick and mortar. The neon sign bearing the establishment's name had burnt out years ago, but it wasn't the type of place one would seek out.

Unless you were Mobius, that is.

[09:45:00]

Technically, he shouldn't be here.

His unit was nearly a mile out, or, more accurately, they would be within the hour. Dates like this, where a simple flap of a fat pigeon's wing could ripple into Nexus event after Nexus event had a name. A proper designation in their severity and frequency of necessary resets.

But he just always referred to them as 'a real pickle'.

You glance up at the front door as the brass bell affixed to the frame jingles loudly. The man that enters looks around the place before making eye contact with you and smiles. He points to the empty bar and you nod your head.

Once you finish refilling the other customer's drink, you see that he's made himself comfortable in the middle stool.

"Hey there." You greet from the opposite side of the counter. He offers a sheepish greeting in response as you set a water down in front of him, balancing a plastic straw on the rim of the glass. "Can I start you off with some coffee? Just made a fresh pot."

"That'd be great, thanks."

You place the mug and matching saucer in front of him and pour. For a moment you look up at him, and he's smiling a very genuine smile- something very rare these days.

As soon as it's full to the brim you're reaching under the counter and grabbing a clean glass sugar pourer, placing it right next to his cup.

"How'd you know?"

"Customer service intuition, I guess." He thanks you before unfurling the napkin containing his flatware. Like someone with real proper manners, he drapes the napkin over one of his legs before stirring an ample amount of sugar into his drink.

You can't help but notice just how much he fits in to the whole aesthetic with his well fitted brown suit and slim tie. New York offered a multiplicity of personalities, and you'd become quite numb to anything and everything that would walk through that door.

Yet, someone about this man was intriguing, familiar in a way. Like in the past life he was a PI that you hired to confirm your husband's affair.

Both a confidant, and a stranger.

"Feel free to take your time, but, do you know what you'd like?" You note his closed menu pushed to the side. He raises his eyebrows and nods while mid-sip, and you pull out a notepad and pen from your apron.

"Sure do, could I get two slices?" He points the vintage rotating pie cooler to your left and specifies his selection.

Easy enough. You put two generous slices onto separate plates, and he declines your offer of whipped cream or ice cream on top.

"Good choice, this one's my favorite."

"You don't say." The knowing twinkle in his eye wasn't noticed as you busied yourself with refilling his coffee. He holds his hands up in mock defeat and sighs. "Well, I guess you'll have to join me." The ceramic scraped against the quartz tabletop as he pushed one of the plates across the bar, directly opposite himself.

"I'm on the clock-"

"Don't worry, another customer doesn't come in for-" He pauses to flex his arm, riding his jacket sleeve up just enough to check his wristwatch. "12 minutes and 43 seconds."

[09:52:16]

"Am I supposed to trust you on that?" You raise an eyebrow, and his only response is a slight head tilt and pushing the second slice a nudge closer to you.

It wasn't every day courteous men offered you a break in the form of your favorite desert. Your face screwed up in contemplation as you looked at the only other two patrons in the diner before giving in and grabbing a second set of flatware. "Well, it is slow-"

"For a Friday?" He has another bite before setting down his fork and dabbing at his face with his napkin.

"Is it Friday already?" You sigh, bent over the counter to take a bite of the pie. Delicious as ever. "Hardly feels like it, all the days are melding together."

"I think this one will stand out."

"What is the date, anyway?"

"May 4th." You make a hum of acknowledgement and he gives you a lopsided grin. "2012, incase you forgot the year too."

"I'll mark it in my calendar," You laugh, using your hand to cover your mouth as you continue to chew. "'The Day I Met-'"

"Mobius." He introduces himself, extending his hand over the counter and you shake it. His grip is firm, authoritative. Before you can reply with your own name, he refers to you by it while maintaining perfect eye contact.

You can't explain why, but it feels so right when he says it. Like it was perfectly made to be pronounced in his charming Texan drawl with just the faintest hint of gravel.

While you're fixed in a stunned silence his eyes deliberately dart to the lapel of your uniform. You follow his gaze and laugh at yourself for neglecting that you were indeed wearing a nametag.

"So Mobius... like, from maths?"

"Yeah, like math." He eyes his untouched water and picks up the plastic straw. His fingers move carefully, removing the straw from the perorated paper. You watch with curiosity as the man twists the paper once and pinches the two ends together with his thumb and index finger.

Mobius holds his opposite hand out to you, confident, waiting. With a bemused smile you allow him to guide your hand. His skin is warm, presumably from the way he had cradled his coffee mug, but it's comforting in a way. His rough hand guides you, your finger tracing the geometry of the paper-straw shape.

"A path that twists and turns... but always ends back at the same spot."

"I wasn't very good at math." You admit, and gesture around as if working in a place like this was a testament to that fact. "Why does it matter that it always ends where it began?"

"Well, that all depends on perspective. Maybe it doesn't matter. But to the one who observes it, it makes all the difference." You quirk an eyebrow, silently pressing him to elaborate. "Maybe that point's... where you got your first kiss, the feeling when your favorite football team scores a winning touchdown, a perfect sunset-"

Mobius catches himself trailing off, and looks down at his plate. He puts another bite onto his fork and cheers it to you.

"Or having pie in good company."

You look around the mostly empty diner before bracing your arms against the counter, leaning in as if you were to whisper some great secret.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bit odd?"

[09:59:06]

"No-" His eyes crinkle as he laughs. "No, that's a new one. But you find it charming." He winked, actually winked, and leaned back in his stool, smirking into his coffee.

Your fork was halfway to your mouth as your just stared at him, frozen. You feel your mouth open and close a few times as you try to think of a somewhat dignified response.

"How would you know that?"

"I just know things." He shrugged.

"Like what?" You challenged.

"How about, Paul- over there." You crane your head to follow his line of eye, your coworker currently bussing a table that had just left. "Worked in this place five years, loves Coke- from the glass bottle, nothing else. Has a girl on the Upper East Side and runs a decent sized internet radio station out of his apartment."

"You're one of his listeners." You narrowed your eyes at him, a perfectly reasonable explanation.

"Oh, no. Hyperpop... not my style."

"Alright, BBC Sherlock-" You countered. You give a subtle head tilt to a woman sitting in a far off booth, papers spread out on the table around her pancake combo. Whoever she was, she definitely wasn't a regular. "How about her?"

"Mrs. Braverman. Youngest of eight siblings, English teacher at the charter school up the avenue. Actually prefers imitation maple syrup to the real thing."

You know very well Mobius could be talking out of his ass. But he's confident, nonchalantly so- like this was a game to him and he was obviously winning.

"What about me?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Your anticipation is palpable as he swallows his final bite, taking the time to wipe his face of crumbs before smiling softly at you.

"You are... a poem of a person. Charming, capable, when you walk into a room people notice- even if you convince yourself that they don't." His gaze is steady, patient, and he's looking at you as if you're the only person in the universe. "You have big dreams, far beyond all... this... and you're gonna make it."

[10:04:59]

The sound of the door chime breaks you out of whatever hypnotic state you had found yourself in. Sucking in a breath and blinking away the very beginnings of tears in your eyes you tell the new customer to sit wherever they like.

Mobius took this chance to check his handheld, sighing at the time and the ever-growing slope of the branch variation.

The reset charge would be set soon, with or without him there.

"Look at that. Duty calls." He stands up and pulls a billfold from his jacket pocket, not even counting as he puts the cash down on the counter.

Mobius turns to leave, but hesitates. He turns back around to face you and places his hands on his hips. Allowing himself to play into the fleeting illusion just a tad longer.

"One more thing I know about you-" Mobius rubbed his chin in careful consideration. "You have a date tonight."

"Ah-" You wag your finger at him and shake your head side to side, "got one wrong."

"Did I? Ah- well... How about we change that?"

You pause. The plates you had been holding found their way back to the counter as you set them down slowly. Once again in a very short time span, he had left you speechless.

"That... was possibly the lamest pickup line I've ever heard." Though you mean it to be snarky, it sounds more like praise coming from your smiling lips. "I get off at 6:30."

"Alright." He looks perfectly pleased with himself as he lightly knocks on the counter with his fist. "It's a date."

Walking out the door, Mobius gave one last look at the diner before reporting to the event site.

He knew would see you again, always at 9:45.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Laisse tomber les filles 7

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; sexual acts and dubcon (not explicitly tagged for a surprise but nothing extreme).

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: We back at it again! Happy Tuesday.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

‘When I was nineteen, pureness was the great issue...I saw the world divided into people who had slept with somebody and people who hadn’t, and this seemed the only really significant difference between one person and another. I thought a spectacular change would come over me the day I crossed the boundary line.’

You read and reread the paragraph. You couldn’t help it. The first time you read that book, you just didn’t get the cynicism. There were still parts you couldn’t quite relate to. But that passage sank into you like a pebble in water. You felt changed already and after something so little.

You hadn’t seen Lee since Saturday. He had your number now and called at night. A few times, there was noise in the background; people, cars, life. You realised he must’ve been at a payphone, taking a moment away from his patrol. That was another thing about him; he felt so established, so wise, and that made you feel even less.

When the phone began to ring that night, you ignored it. And when it stopped, you picked up the receiver and dialed the only number you knew. Your mom picked up and you heard the sink running in the background. She was always busy when you called.

“Mom,” you said, “it’s me.”

“Oh, hi, dear,” she replied in her creaky tone, “how are you? Oh, is something wrong?”

“Um… I’m okay, I just wanted to call, I…” you thought of telling her about Lee but you weren’t really sure how. You weren’t even sure why you called her, only that you felt alone. “I miss you and daddy.”

“We miss you, too,” you heard her steps and her grunt as she stretched the cord and twisted off the faucet. “He’s been working hard down at the steel yard and he’s so proud. All the other men tell him to hush up when he brags about you.”

“Yeah? I… I’m working hard. Got an A on my last paper,” you played with the coiled cord.

“That’s great, dear,” she chimed, “are you sure you’re okay? You sound tired.”

“I am tired,” you said, “that’s all. Studying and all that.”

“I hope so. I wouldn’t want you going out late to one of those parties,” she tittered, “Noreen’s son got arrested at one of those and spent a night in jail. They spent their mortgage to get him out.”

“No, no, I don’t, um, go to parties,” you assured, not adding that no one would even think to invite you to one.

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry, I’ll have to call back tomorrow,” she sighed as you heard the door clamour, “your father’s so intent on hurting himself these days.”

“Okay, um, it’s alright, I’ll talk later, love y--” the phone went dead and you listened to the dull tone.

You put the receiver back in the cradle and tapped your fingers on your lips. You picked up your book and sat back on your bed. You couldn’t focus on the words though as your mind lingered on the familiar sounds of home. You missed it terribly. You just wanted to take the bus and go hide in your old childhood bed.

The phone rang again. You knew it wasn’t your mother. You left it and when it silenced, there was only a second before it started again. You waited until the next lull and moved the receiver off the cradle and let the low hum rise from the speaker. You kept it off the hook and closed your book.

You didn’t want to deal with any of that today. Not Lee, not Plath, not the plague of woes that roiled your stomach. You flopped onto your bed and pulled your pillow over your head. You weren’t going to think again until your morning lecture.

📚

You sat near the front of the hall with your elbow on the small fold-out desk. You swirled your pen lazily in the air as you listened to the professor expound on the flaws of historical revisionism. He wasn’t the type to entertain questions or comments, he merely ranted and expected you to note those few words of value amidst the sea of thoughts.

You yawned, exhausted despite an early night. You felt empty and drained those last four days. Ever since…

You didn’t think about it. Tried not to even as it tugged at your mind. When the memory managed to poke through, you felt the same tingle between your legs and your cheeks burned in humiliation. 

How had you let it happen? How could you let yourself do that?

You were so confused by it all. How could it be wrong if Lee said it was right? He was older, he was a cop, and he knew much more than you. You never even kissed a boy before him and he was so confident in everything he did that he must be doing it all right. 

Besides, after everything, if you refused him, you’d have only been leading him on and using him for his kindness, even if you didn’t realise what you were doing. Because what you did know was that he was a man and you were a woman and that he was doing nice things for you. And you accepted them all. The least you could do was bide his affection. That was the age old exchange, was it not?

“Next week, we’ll review chapters five and six,” the professor’s tone piqued as his ramble subsided, “I expect a class discussion and you can expect ten percent of your mark to be evaluated from your contribution and I will know if you just ‘skimmed’ the introduction.’

The class grumbled as he dismissed you and you stood slowly, stretching the cramp from your leg. You packed up your bag and hauled it on your shoulder. You had a gap between that class and your afternoon publishing class. You trailed out behind the flow of chattering students but found many of them lowered their voices as they came out into the hall.

There voices fell to whispers as they entered the hall. The sight of a brown hat assured you of the reason. Sheriff Bodecker stood against the painted brick and watched the students pass by, each eyeing him nervously and some chuckling under their breaths nervously. You tried to hide behind a taller student but your name tripped you up.

Despite your efforts to maintain your invisibility, he’d spotted you and you knew you could run away. Several of your peers craned around to watch you, no doubt suspecting some trouble on your part. You dragged your feet and stepped out of the tide of fleeing co-eds to stand along the wall with Lee.

“Hi,” you said quietly.

“Young lady,” he said staunchly and kept his eyes on the other students, nodding at them darkly as they passed.

He waited until the hall was empty before he turned on you. You fidgeted and caught your bag as it slipped from your shoulder. Your thoughts wrinkled above your brow and you stared at his brown leather shoes.

“How did you… find me here?”

He was silent as he reached in his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He opened it and showed you a print-out of your schedule.

“Easy enough,” he tapped his badge nonchalantly, “I was worried. You didn’t answer last night.”

“I fell asleep early,” you said weakly, “morning lecture, you know?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, “not that early.”

“I’m sorry, I was sleep--”

“You’re no good at lying and I don’t like you telling me fibs,” he growled, “you playin’ around with me, honey.”

“No, I…” you blinked as he folded the paper back into his pocket and pushed his jacket back to settle his hand on his pistol.

“Did you forget who I am? What I am?” he arched a brow darkly.

“N-No, sir, I… I got schoolwork and--”

“You can’t stop and talk to me for ten minutes?” he challenged, “you hurt me, honey. I’m out on patrol all night, in danger, and the only thing I got to look forward to is hearing your sweet voice.”

“I, um, I… er, I’m confused,” you eked out, “I don’t know… I…”

“Honey,” he leaned in and his hot breath glossed over you as he lowered his voice, “you know what this is, we both know what a bad girl you were on Saturday.”

“I didn’t…” you swallowed and choked on your voice, “I gotta go to the library--”

You tried to turn away but were pulled back by his tight grip on your arm. He forced you against the wall and knocked the wind from you as your bag tumbled from your arm. You gasped and stared up at him in fright. In that moment, he seemed bigger than ever; taller, thicker, and strong as hell. Stronger than you for sure.

“You don’t go nowhere ‘less I say you do,” his other hand shifted on his gun, “you got me?”

“What are you-- I didn’t… why are you being mean?”

“Me? Honey pie, you been avoiding me and I’m mean?” he snarled.

“I wasn’t avoiding you, I’m just... busy,” you whimpered as he squeezed your arm so tight it throbbed, “you’re hurting me.”

“You’re hurting me,” he hissed, “you think I got time to be comin’ down here on duty to find you?”

“You didn’t have to--”

“I did,” he barked, “I had to make sure you weren’t hussyin’ around with any other boys, like I found you last week.”

“I told you, that wasn’t--”

“Shhhhh,” his hand flew to your chin and forced your mouth shut, “I don’t got the time for this, honey. I’ll be around tonight and you’ll wear a pretty dress for me, won’t you?”

You clenched your jaw and nodded stiffly as his thumb toyed with your lip. He smiled and the tension left his grasp.

“Good girl,” he drew away and squared his shoulders, “you be ready at six and don’t keep me waitin’ again.”

“Yes, sir,” you croaked.

“Mmm,” he nodded with a smirk, “you know, I think I do prefer ‘sir’.” He bent and kissed your lips before you could turn away. You let him and he stood straight again and adjusted his belt, “six o’clock, honey pie.”

[jarofstyles]

Crush

A/N: this one.... biiiitch.... giving you all a little college!harry, he’s so cute 👉🏼👈🏼 enjoy hehe 😈 - n + d

If you like this, check out our Patreon!

send feedback and requests here 

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut. FILTH. 

word count: 9.7k

Harry felt a bit creepy. 

It wasn’t as if it was on purpose! No... but she was at all of the places he went. At first he had thought it was a coincidence, but as he developed a routine for his classes, he found that they were often around each other for similar reasons. And usually? He would try and go up, introduce himself, and make a friend. The problem was... she was pretty. 

Not like normal pretty. Pretty as in, holy fuck you make me so nervous and perhaps I’ll word vomit, pretty. He was shit at making the first move. She was in his Monday and Friday classes and sat not far from him, he noticed. And they always ended up at the Coffee Bean on Tuesday and Thursdays, sitting not too far from one another again. She got tea with a few cookies, and he got a black coffee and an orange scone. They’d work on their coursework and Harry would wait for her to leave and see her make it to her car before he would leave, not wanting to make it seem like he was following her. He’s found out her name through friends stopping in to see her. It was Y/N. Gorgeous, just like her.

Funny enough, Harry wasn’t the only one who had a bit of a crush. Y/N realized in the second week of classes that Harry was in fact one of the most intimidatingly cool and attractive men she’d ever seen. College boys weren’t supposed to look like that, but he was all soft in his sweaters and baggy pants. She wasn’t sure how he pulled it off so well, but she could admit she was jealous. 

Seeing him at the Coffee bean was a relief because well, he walked in after her every time. She assumed it was because he had a class that ended later or something, but it didn’t go unnoticed that  he was there. Usually it wasn’t too busy or loud so she could glance at him from the corner of her eye as they sat at one of the big tables. She felt like it would be too weird to talk to him, he seemed so... quiet. She’d never heard him speak, hell, she’d only ever locked eyes with him for milliseconds. Y/N wished she could be one of those girls that could effortlessly flirt, ask for a pencil or something, but she knew she’d freeze up and forget her rehearsed line. 

Today however, when Y/N arrived, Harry was already there at his usual spot. Okay, Y/N... act natural. She thought to herself, going to order her usual before walking to boldly take a seat across from him. It would have worked out fine if her tote bag didn’t accidentally catch the corner of one of his books, sending things flying. 

“Shit— sorry, I—” Y/N swore, setting her bag on the table before bending down to get the book and a few papers and a pen. Real smooth.

Harry was slightly startled when his shit went flying, but when he saw who had knocked it over, his heart picked up. Oh, shit. 

“Oh— it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Harry’s voice was a bit gruff from not using it much today, pushing his chair back and bending down to grab the stuff with her. “S’my fault for putting it so close to the edge. I used to do that at home and my cat would knock it all off.” 

Great. Already rambling. 

Y/N didn’t register it at first, but he was british? Fuck. If she wasn’t already on her knees she would dropped down anyway, biting her lip to stop any noises that could have escaped. She giggled when he said his cat used to knock things over, “mine too.” She mumbled and went to stand up, feeling a tug at her arm. 

“Ah, shit.” Harry had caught his ring in her sweater, pulling one of the threads. “Damn, I’m so sorry.” He blushed slightly, knowing how annoying it was to have a pulled thread. His collection of sweaters was immense, thanks to his nan— and he felt terrible. Damn his chunky things. “They always get caught in mine too but I wear them anyways. I can replace the sweater, if you need.” Damn it. He was trying to come off as smooth... not so nervous. But he was. She was so pretty and she was up close, she smelled like peaches and vanilla and a bit of sweet mint and her hands were so soft.

“Oh no, It’s fine! it’s old anyway— I can just cut it off or tuck it in or something.” Honestly, Y/N would figure it out. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad, it was an accident after all. She let him untangle it, holding her hand still though it seemed like he needed some help. “Smaller fingers...” She mumbled, using her nails to get the thread gently off of the ring. “‘s a nice ring.” Y/N complimented, finally meeting his eyes and feeling the breath leave her lungs at the close proximity. Her lips parted naturally, scanning his face for any signs of discomfort.

She was beautiful Harry though he may get sick because wow. Wow. He had imagined holding her hand and kissing her but this exact moment he hadn’t a clue on what to do. So he improvised. 

“Are you in the 8 am psych class on Mondays?” He tilted his head. “I know I’ve seen you before.” Oh, he had seen her a lot. Especially in his dreams, day and night. It had been a bit intoxicating, really. At her nod, his grin came on his face. “Sick. S’that what you’re gonna study for?” He didn’t bring up the other class because... it would be embarrassing if she hadn’t noticed him before and he knew all too much. He needed a refill of his coffee though so he grabbed his cup, gently taking her things and placing them on the table next to his. “At least let me buy your stuff though. I feel awful about your sweater.”

“I’m actually just waiting on them to finish making mine, I was on my way to secure a spot but—” Y/N blushed, realizing the mess she had made. “Could you get it for me while you’re up there? It’s for Y/N. I can sit here and watch your stuff.” She felt like that was a subtle way for her to tell him her name. 

This was the most she had ever spoken to him and it had been about a month or so that she’d been eyeing him up. She knew he was in her English literature class as well, but psych was her major. Y/N wondered if maybe he too was a psych major, maybe that’s why they sort of had the same schedule? Regardless, she felt a bit nervous making conversation so she spent the time he was away coming up with what she was going to ask him and how she was going to keep the ball rolling. Hopefully she didn’t interrupt his studying, if anything she’d leave him alone.

“Y/N?” He tested it on his tongue out loud for the first time. It tasted good. “Yeah. M’Harry. I’ll be back.” He nodded, going towards the front. His heart going a mile a minute, he couldn’t believe how quickly his luck had changed. He ordered an extra cake pop today, for her. she had said it didn’t matter but to him, it did. Eventually he hoped he could buy her a replacement. Or... maybe she could wear his around. Wow. That would stroke his ego and his fragile heart to the core. He could already see her on his lavender fishermen’s sweater, in front of his fireplace back at home. She would be so cute. The voice calling her name snapped him out of the fantasy, Harry grabbing it and then his own shortly after before returning to the table. “Here. I got the last cake pop for you. Don’t tell anyone I’m the offender.”

“Ooo you’re a dead man if they find out.” Y/N said, looking around before gently taking it from him. “Thank you... that’s sweet.” She blushed, taking a bite of it before taking a sip of her chai latte. Now that she had stuff to fiddle around with she could take a breather and not have to worry about filling space. “But um.. did interrupt something? Don’t want to distract you...” Y/N nodded over to his laptop, secretly hoping that he wasn’t up to much so that she could chat to him. She just wanted to know the basics, literally anything would satisfy her craving. Harry was quite literally her wet dream, she’d been looking all around campus for someone like him to come around. “I uh... I think I’m also in your English lit class? I feel like I see you around often.” Y/N spoke, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “What’s your major?” She felt like this conversation was light, something that would eventually lead into other things like... if he was single and looking for a girlfriend.

“Oh, you’re not bugging me. I’ve kind of been staring at the screen and zoning out if m’honest.” Harry chuckled, embarrassed a little to admit it. But everyone could relate to that, right? “And yeah... actually I think so.” He smiled lightly before taking a sip of his drink. Victory! She had noticed him too. He wasn’t the lonely creep who stared at the first who had no idea who he was. She knew who he was, kind of. He gently drew his sweater over his hands like little paws before going to her question. “English. I want to write and stuff, edit maybe. My dad has a publishing company so, I’m lucky I like a bit of the family business.” He tried to joke, looking at her. God. It was unnerving how beautiful and also, how fucking comfortable she was to be around. What a contrast. “And you? What major?” He took a nibble of his scone, not wanting to make a mess.

English? He’s a writer? Goodness. She was going to lose it. 

“That’s cool, any specific genre you like to write?” Y/N asked curiously because well, it would actually tell her a lot about him and the kind of person he was. “I picture some mystery or possibly poetry, could go either way.” She said and squinted her eyes as she looked at him, pretending to size him up. “I can’t say I’m all that interesting, a psych major. Just like every other artsy person who doesn’t exactly want to commit to an art degree.” Y/N chuckled, “still deciding between criminal justice or counseling but... either way I’d be happy to get to pick someone’s brain. She did have the habit of analyzing people but only so she could understand them better. Y/N knew that all people wanted at the core was to be understood and loved for who they are, for the most part. Harry seemed reserved, calm and relaxed, secure in himself that’s for sure. It was extremely attractive.

“Oh? That’s really cool though.” Harry was genuinely interested in what she had to say either way. The major didn’t matter in his interest in her but it gave him information and something to talk about. If she was marketing or math he would be just as interested. “Criminal seems particularly interesting. Like that criminal minds show then? You’ll learn how they work and all of that?” He didn’t really know what it meant or why she had chosen it. “But close. I write romance novels.” He blushed fully. “Don’t judge me for it. But s’easy for me and I’m good at it, or so I’ve been told. I’ve been writing for a while.” He felt himself loosen up as they talked. Even if she intimidated him, she was really nice and sweet. “Poetry too, lots of it. But romance is my main thing, I’d like to do novels and that sort of stuff.” He could see she didn’t think it was lame, rather interesting. Which was a major relief. He wanted to impress her, so so badly.

“Sorta, yeah. Like... being able to predict a criminal's next move, psychologically.” Y/N explained and shrugged, “feel like it’s really fun and interesting but terrifying all at once. Dunno if I could actually interview a criminal without feeling like it was going to cry.” She let out a laugh, knowing she was quite soft. Her face lit up when he said he wrote romance novels. Wow. Well, as if he wasn’t a character right out of a romcom himself! She felt like that’s what this was. A romcom. Bumping into him at a coffee shop like a scene straight from one. “Really?! So you’re a proper romantic then? Buy the last cake pop for every girl, hmm?” She gave him a bashful smile. The very last thing she was doing was judge, she was more so thinking about their wedding. Yep. Already. Daydreaming because she swore she’d hit the jackpot. Wasn’t even sure if he liked her yet, but she was hopeful. After all, she’d turned on her charm.

“I guess I am.” Harry smirked to himself slightly at the good reception. Damn. He had been so worried and hesitant- he should have just talked to her. She wasn’t... that scary. Only a little bit. 

He let her talk a bit more about her degree and Harry went on to speak about his favorite authors, and then the conversation shifted towards their classes and how he had been struggling slightly in psych— which led to her offering to help. Harry was shocked because honestly he hadn’t expected it from her, but he was pleased. He was happy to have an excuse to hang out with her more. See more of her and be able to teach himself to relax properly around her. He felt like a damn wind up toy, giddy and excited. 

“That would be so helpful, if you could. And if you don’t mind.” He stressed. “I have a place off campus, if you’d want to go there? I’ll buy you some pizza or something for your help.” He was a giver and if it meant getting a $20 pizza for her because he wanted good quality, then he would!

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Y/N was practically jumping up and down with joy in her mind, this was a turn of events. She went from secretly crushing on him to being invited over his house in only a few hours. “I can never say no to pizza, but it’s really no problem. They say if you can teach it to someone else then you truly understand it so it’ll be a good test for me. Y/N also knew that they wouldn’t just study. Come on. It was a Friday night and study was practically code for hook up, especially considering he had invited her to his place and not the library. She had to prepare, had to make sure she looked cute and everything. She’d shower before hand too, the whole nine. “I can be there around 6?” Y/N suggested, checking her calendar app even though she already knew when she could come. She had to at least look like she wasn’t jumping at the idea.

“That’s cool. Uh— here, if you want I can put my number in your phone and whenever you want I can text you the address?” Oh, fuck. How, how the tables have turned. He had gone from wistfully staring at her every day to having a scheduled study session with her, the girl he’d been practically having wet dreams about. Having a full conversation and then her having his number! He was giddy and playing with the sleeves of his sweater as a result of the excited nerves. “Do you have any allergies? I do have a kitten at home.” He wanted to make sure he wouldn’t have to put Marie away. He loved his baby but he wanted to try something and see if she would be cool with him in a private setting. It would be less hard to talk about deeper things without people around. He took her phone from her and typed in his number, adding his name with a little  📚 after it. That wasn’t too much, right?

“Aw you do! I have one too, well... he thinks he’s a big boy.” Y/N shook her head at the thought of her sweet little Milo. Despite not doing anything she planned to do at the coffee shop, it still felt like a productive day in her eyes. Finally getting to chat with Harry felt like a breath of fresh air and he wasn’t all that scary now that she got to chatting with him. She took her phone back and smiled at the cute little emoji, sending him a text to let him know it was her before hesitantly getting up. “Alright well, I gotta get back to my kitten... but, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N smiled, watching him stand up as well. The two of them walked out of the coffee shop and to their cars, Y/N being bold enough to give him a hug before opening her car door. “Night!” She was surprised with herself. Y/N was proud, completely over the moon and honestly she wasn’t sure how she was going to sleep tonight.

-----

Harry laid out on the bed that night with Marie on his chest. He had told her all about how the pretty Y/N had met him and that she would be coming over. The pretty cat was a long haired white kitty, and she purred along with Harry as he spoke. She liked hearing Harry be happy. It made him want to squeak when he heard his phone buzz and a little text from her popped up— he saved her as ‘Y/N 🌼’ because he felt like it fit. Part of him wanted to put a heart but he would be mortified if she saw and thought it was weird. She wore a yellow flower shirt one day so he figured that’s what he could excuse it as. 

‘Hey, happy to hear from you! :) I hope your kitty is doing well. I meant to ask, you aren’t vegetarian are you?’

Y/N smiled at his text and attached a photo of her gray kitten laying across the top of her head while she laid down. 

‘Yes, he’s quite cozy.’

‘I am actually! But I’m not too fussy.’ 

She couldn’t help it, she loved animals and she couldn’t bring herself to do it anymore. Occasionally, she would indulge in a chicken nugget or seafood, but for the most part she didn’t feel like she had to. 

‘I’m going to get some sleep though, Good night Harry 💓’

That wasn’t too much was it? It was just a heart! She sent them to everyone. Y/N stayed up for a good ten minutes just digesting the day. Tomorrow would be even better, she had a feeling.

——

Harry was... well, he wasn’t sure how to describe the emotion. When Niall inevitably quizzed him on why he was acting strange, the best he had come up with was a mix of nerves and giddiness, also terror and extreme happiness. He was going to hang out with the girl he had been silently crushing on— and they had been texting quite frequently in the short time they had each other’s numbers. Was this going to be a regular thing? Was it going to blossom into more? He knew that he had wasted time before, not talking to her. She wasn’t scary! No... she was so sweet and kind and beautiful and everything she said made him a literal heart eye emoji. She had taken to sending him random photos, even so quickly in and it felt comfortable. He had even sent her a shot of Marie on the counter this morning, on top of his school notes. It was odd. The excitement he felt when he heard the bing from his phone of the vibration in his pocket... it was incredible. He liked this feeling. Damn it. This was such a new thing. He wanted to do more. 

He saw her in class, watching as she crept in a bit after the last call should be with a sheepish smile on her face. He waved to her silently and watched her climb up, his heart beating quicker when she chose a seat closer to his than before. She wanted to sit near him? He clutched the rainbow patchwork sweater by the sleeves and fiddled with the cuffs, nerves and excitement swirling in his tummy.

If class wasn’t already on, Y/N knew she would have tried to spark up some conversation with Harry, but for now all she could manage was passing him a note. 

‘I like your cardigan :)’

It was really cute. Most of Harry’s wardrobe was and in her dream world she already stole a few to wear. English literature wasn’t exactly the most exciting class, but Harry seemed invested. Y/N enjoyed watching him focus and take notes while she mostly doodled some random flowers and bears in her notebook. Her mind was thinking about what she was going to wear to his house and how she definitely needed a shower before and that she had to put on the lotion that matched her perfume. Was she overthinking this? Maybe. Of course it was just a study date, but you could never be too sure where things could go. And if they did— she wanted to be ready.

He knew that he needed to contain himself but his smile made it hard. She liked his cardigan. The random compliment had him feeling mushy and happy and there was definitely a blush on his cheeks as he clicked his pen and wrote back to her. 

‘Thanks :) my nan knitted it for me. I like your little head band.’ 

He passed it back before opening his notebook back up. Her stare could be felt and he wanted to smirk a little at it because, well, who wouldn’t? She was so great, and he wanted to experience more of her but he was trying to not rush shit. He was a romance writer after all. All of it felt so in tune with his own wants and he had a hard time believing it was real. Sweet little Y/N wanted to hang out with him and she complimented his cardigan!

‘Awe!! That’s cute and thank youuuu 🥰’ 

She drew him a little smiley face with hearts around it, felt like it was very on brand for her and her emotive texting. Y/N felt all giddy because she had made a new friend but she was really hoping they wouldn’t just be friends. 

Y/N knew she was hard to read because she was generally nice to everyone and honestly, Harry seemed to be the same way. She could only assume he liked her because he asked her to hang out so quickly. And he’d bought her a cake pop and was planning on buying pizza tonight. Was it a date then? Gosh, she needed to stop reading into it. Her leg kept bouncing up and down, mind trying to refocus and thankfully, their professor was discussing something she too had noticed in her reading. She still managed to steal quick glances at Harry for the rest of the class, giving him shy little smiles. It wasn’t till class ended that she ended up speaking to him, but even that was quick. She needed to get home and get ready.

Harry had gotten a quick hi, and a ‘see you tonight!’ With her hand brushing his arm before she skipped off to.. wherever she went. And that had him nearly sprinting home. Cleaning top to bottom, vacuum, scrub, vacuum again. Changed his sheets— why, he wasn’t sure— put his laundry in the basket, filled up Marie’s food and water, fluffed the pillows, cleaned the windows and coffee table... he did it all. Even cleaned out the fridge! Like she would care? Harry didn’t know. All he did know was that he was finally showered and smelled nice, hair fixed and the pumpkin patch candle was lit! The tv was on low because he was nervous and needed some filler noise to keep himself from overthinking.

Y/N was doing the same, not cleaning her apartment but cleaning herself. She stripped out of her clothes when she got home and immediately got into the shower, taking one of those full maintenance ones for good measure. Once she was positive she was squeaky clean and smelled nice, she jumped out to take the next steps. God, she really wanted to impress him. He’d been her crush for a while and she needed this. She wanted to look like she didn’t put in my effort when she did so she decided to put on some light makeup and chose an outfit that was more laid back. Usually, she was seen wearing sweaters and jeans, nothing too fancy, so that’s exactly what she settled on. Y/N wanted to look warm and inviting. 

Milo mewed beneath her feet as she collected all her study supplies, rubbing against her ankles in need of attention. “I’m sorry bubs, I know I didn’t get to spend lots of time with you today but don’t be too mad.” Y/N pouted, picking him up and giving him a cuddle for a few minutes. She held him up to her chest as she finished up, deciding she needed to leave now.

‘Leaving now, be there in 20 ✨’

She sent, hopping into her car with nerves bubbling up in her stomach. God, she really hoped tonight went well.

——

When Harry heard the knock at the door he shot up, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants before forcing himself to be slow, walking to the door. And when he opened it, it really did feel like being hit in the gut. Seeing someone so beautiful, so up close? It got to him. He had to admit that. Y/N has this natural beauty that he drooled over. That felt like a hit. Every time he saw her he swore she got more beautiful. 

“Hi.” He spoke with a smile, opening the door up for her. “Come inside. Marie is wandering around so I have to close the door. A little escape artist, she is.” He joked, letting her scurry in and close the door behind her.

“Hey! Oop— okay!” Y/N giggled and stepped past him into his apartment. It was very cute and very tidy. Y/N felt a little flutter in her belly, it was freshly cleaned. She stepped out of her shoes before further examining the decor. The style was something she very much expected for Harry, it was cozy and artsy. Lots of earth tones and that sweet autumn smell coming from the candle made her feel that much more excited. “It’s so nice in here! I love the pillows.” Y/N complimented, liking how some were fluffy and some had funky patterns on them. It was then that she heard a meow from below, Marie sniffing at her sock covered toes. “Oh hi there... sorry if you can smell Milo on me, gave me lots of snuggles before I left.” Y/N cooed down to the kitten, dropping down so she was closer to the ground and extended her hand for her to sniff and get used to. 

Y/N realized this was very real now, especially because he had gone out of his way to make his place look nice. Most guys wouldn’t care, but maybe Harry did this for everyone. When she stood back up and turned to face him, she got a whiff of him and noticed his semi damp hair. He showered too. Oh—

Harry smiled at her and Marie, happy his kitten seemed to like her. Usually she would sniff his friends and run off but she began to weave over her legs and beg for pets. He was in awe. Christ. She had him by the balls already. 

“Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got diet soda... apple juice, lots of teas. And water.” He hummed, going into the kitchen with her behind him. It was an open concept though, the kitchen the first thing near the door and it opened into a large living area, the hall down going to the master bedroom. It was simple but perfect for him in college. He gave her a moment to think it over as he looked at her. So cozy and... cuddly. He wanted to slide his hands under her sweater and feel her warm skin and nuzzle into the crook of her neck, let her fingers play through his hair.

“Apple juice sounds good.” Y/N smiled, having picked up Marie at this point to carry her into the kitchen with them. She had a feeling she’d get along just great with Milo if they ever got to meet. “You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” Y/N cooed at the kitten, seeing her comfortably settled against her. “Does your Daddy spoil you with snuggles too?” She asked toying with her little paw before looking up at Harry with a smile. He had fumbled a bit with the lid of the juice at her words which made her giggle, “How are you? How was your day today?” Y/N was genuinely curious, deciding to make some small talk before actually sitting down. In her head she could already imagine the two of them hanging out here constantly, tangled up in one another, kissing and laughing and doing all the cute things that Harry likely wrote about in his stories.

“I’m— im good.” Harry’s mouth was dry. He knew that she hadn’t meant anything by it, but he heard her say ‘daddy’ in reference to him, and his stupid cock had jumped, tummy felt hot. Damn it. He wished he wasn’t so deprived but... she had been at the forefront of his mind. “It was a good day. I was happy to talk to you. You’re fun to talk to.” He meant it too. She was so interesting and funny and he was completely whipped and okay with it. Damn. He wished he had maybe a bit more restraint with his imagination but he didn’t. Not at all. “I have a harder time meeting people... i can be a little shy sometimes. I’m in my own head a lot you know? I have my core group of friends but... it’s hard to get to know people. I want to know them.” Her. That translates to her.

“Yeah?” Y/N felt her heart jump. He was happy to speak with her even just a little bit? He wanted to talk to her and get to know her? It wasn’t just a one sided thing. They were both making an effort in their own way and she was thinking someone had to break the tension. “I’m happy you think so.” Y/N blushed, “I um... I also like talking to you.” She had her little friend group as well but she never thought she’d actually end up being friends with Harry. Listening to him explain how reserved he was definitely made her feel special though. He chose to open up to her, she was special enough for that and that made her cheeks grow warm once again. “I’ll tell you just about anything you want to know.” Y/N smiled, hesitantly placing Marie down before taking a few steps closer to him to get her glass of apple juice.

“Ooooh, a little daunting. Anything? Your social security number?” Harry was joking. Trying to clear the air and make her relax because she was a bit shy too and he wanted her to be comfortable here. This place should be a good spot for her. He motioned for her to come sit on the couch with him, Marie trailing after Y/N. Little traitor had a new favorite already but... he couldn’t say he could blame her. “I dunno... it’s hard sometimes, in this age to make genuine friendships. Feels like everyone’s already got their friend groups and you don’t want to infringe upon them yeah? And... I write a lot. I’m not a partier. Not to sound cliche but again.... I’m a writer.” He chuckled.

“I said just about!” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head to herself at his joke. She felt like she was an open book, she was pretty open with the things she liked and generally she aimed to spread positivity and love where she could. Her hobbies included lots of things, music, knitting, reading, gardening. That kind of stuff. “But yeah, I get that... I’ve been pretty content with my group of friends, though I think most people are open to making new ones. At least I am... I am a bit shy though.” Y/N took a sip of her apple juice before setting it down on the coffee table again. “Yeah, you said. Romance novels.” She smiled and leaned back into the couch, getting comfortable. “What sorts of romance novels?” What? Could you blame her for wanting to know what sort of content was in them? Maybe it could give her some insight on what he wanted.

“Oooooh. Hard hitting stuff.” Harry huffed out playfully. “I’m... it’s a variety, I think. I’ve done supernatural, classic tropes, historical romance was very fun. I am partial to enemies to lovers or forbidden romances though. They’re the most fun to write.” Y/N genuinely looked like she cared so he continued. “I’ve been trying out different stuff but....” he blushed again. “I’m... looking at erotica right now.” It wasn’t something he usually would blurt out but hey, she seemed trustworthy. Plus she didn’t seem like she would judge either. It was a new favorite of his. The rawness of it and writing sex scenes... it was amazing. Reading it, writing it, he thought he could do some on the side and sell it under a pen name. It would be a fun thing to try.

Erotica. This man sat down and wrote detailed sex scenes, likely kinky, for fun? Thankfully she didn’t have any juice in her mouth because it surely would have been spat out. 

“H-how are you finding it?” She asked, reaching for her apple juice because she felt like she couldn’t sit still now. How else was she supposed to go about things when all she could think about was sex. Sex with him specifically. Y/N wasn’t blind, she knew that Harry was very attractive and very much gifted with beautiful hands. She could only assume he would have a wonderful cock as well. She knew there was no way someone so quite couldn’t have the filthiest of minds, she knew hers was. Her fantasies were where she roamed free.  

“I mean... I do like it a lot, actually. I hope that doesn’t come across as creepy or pervy but I like to be able to write something like that. It’s freeing, in a sense.” Harry couldn’t really properly describe why but, he was a kinky dude. You’d never think it. He was soft and wore sweaters a lot and drank tea at home from a kitty mug but he was.... a kinky fucker. And he loved sex. There was just something about it. He wanted to try more and more of it but he had a tendency to get attached to his partners, even hook ups... so he had put that on a hault. 

“I’d like to read some...” Y/N felt like at some point, she’d want to read his writing. If he felt comfortable now she didn’t mind. It was just writing, wasn’t it? 

“You want to?” She looked at him with bright eyes and her a fast nod so Harry decided to say, fuck it. If they were going to work as friends... or lovers, which is what Harry really wanted... she would need to accept this side. He grabbed his laptop and boosted it on, letting himself grab the latest completed scene. “Here. You can read this, i'll order the pizza.” There were obvious nerves in his belly from letting her read filthy smut from his computer but Y/N... she was different. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but she was.

They were meant to be studying. 

That was long forgotten though as Y/N nodded and got comfortable on the couch with his laptop sat in her lap. It felt a bit taboo, but she figured she could separate the writer from the story. 

The scene was from a male character’s perspective, describing him having a long and hard day at work where all he could think about was his partner. Y/N felt her face get progressively warmer as the character spoke about his partner, she couldn’t help but imagine this was how Harry was when he was horny and needy. 

Y/N knew that if she was his, she would certainly brighten up his mood after a tough day at work. Seeing her own name in the document however proved that Harry thought the same. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head, her eyes lifting from the screen to look up at him as he ordered the pizza completely unaware of her discovery. 

This is what he imagined? This is what he wanted to do.... with her?

Harry ordered two cheese pizzas and some cinnamon dessert thing because there was a a special going on. He had thought about getting more but he didn’t want to go overboard with it, so he finished the order. Thank god for online ordering.

“Okay... it’ll be here in 25 minutes I think.” He hummed, looking up and freezing slightly. She looked blushy and her eyes wide as she read the post and he wondered why she looked a bit startled. “Hey... y’alright love?” He asked quietly. God damn it. Had he freaked her out too much? Was it just too much in general for the first time they properly hung out? He couldn’t remember exactly what scene he had pulled up. Just that it was recent, a billionaire type of thing.

Y/N casually moved the laptop on to the coffee table without answering his question. She didn’t think twice before she climbed on to his lap, hands settling on his shoulders. Sure, it was a risky move, but after what she’d read? She felt like she had to make her move. She wanted to be just as hot and sexy as he had imagined her to be. Harry’s shocked expression made her smile, hand going up to cup his cheek. 

“You left my name in the document...” Y/N’s voice spoke low and slow, thumb brushing over his now parted lips. Never did she think she could be so bold so soon, but fuck did it feel good. She felt so powerful, so sexy, and so so horny. “Thought about me riding your cock so much you wrote about it?” Y/N whispered, leaning in to kiss the skin just below his ear before nibbling at the skin. “Noticed me before we properly met... thought about me... is this what you wanted, baby?”

Harry blanked. 

Oh. fuck.

He hadn’t expected her to climb into his lap. Climbing on and straddling him, cupping his cheek, talking in that hot little voice that had his cock filling a bit. Holy fucking shit. 

“Oh—” He was cut off by her thumb over her lip. She was into it, into him. How had this happened? He had to be dreaming. But... no. Her heat was too real to be a dream. Her eyes too clear and dark, her smell too real. It was real. “Y-yeah...” He whispered, gasping when she kissed his skin, hand grabbing her waist. Oh, hell. Under his pants, his cock was quickly hardening. You couldn’t blame him, his dream woman, his crush, was straddling his lap and kissing his neck. Talking like this. 

“Thought about it ‘lots.” He muttered. She was so bold for this and that was something he found so sexy. When her teeth scraped his skin and bit down a bit harder, a dark groan left his mouth, hand on her waist tightening. “Holy shit... Y/N.”

“Hmm... feels good?” Y/N questioned, licking over the spot that she bit before moving to a new one. “Think I can make you cum in 25 minutes?” Y/N felt like she could take on the challenge, his cock was already hardening beneath her and she was a bit of foreplay away from being completely soaked. “Wanna try all of it, yeah?” Y/N muttered, nipping at the spot just where his jawline met his neck. “Riding your cock.... you bending me over, can choke me too. Please do...” She moaned at the thought, her hormones completely taking over. He still seemed to be frozen, despite his hand now on her waist so she moved her hips forward a little bit and tugged at his hair. “Wanna make you feel good.” 

Y/N had a kink for giving but it seemed Harry did as well. She expected a needy hook up, rough touches, quickness, pure lust. It’s exactly what she needed. It’s been a while since she’d hooked up with anyone and she was desperate for Harry to break her dry spell.

“Ah, shit.” Harry hissed. The tug at his hair sent a shock of hot arousal down his spine. That got him going so quickly. She wanted to fuck? Right now? He would be a fool to say no, and he wasn’t raised a fool. “Yeah? Y’want to ride my cock?” He asked lowly. “Fucks sake... I didn’t know you were so dirty.” He never would have guessed it from her either but... they were here. And he was snapped out of his shock by the tug, and now he was ready to do whatever the fuck she let him. “What did y’want the most, love? Tell me.” He had taken into account that she wanted to be choked, raising a hand to gently cuff her throat, bringing her close to his face. The confidence was soaring now, and all because she was leaking it. She wanted it, desperately. “I said, tell me.” He gave a quick squeeze to her throat. “Want to know what you need.”

“Need your cock, daddy.” Y/N moaned out, eyes blown and glazed over with desire. Y/N could feel the tension in her bones, cunt throbbing and aching to be touched. “Need you so bad, please— wanted you for so long, please make me cum, please!” She pleaded, fully giving into the fantasy. Y/N was never one to hold back and from what she had read, he certainly didn’t want her to. Her body felt like it was on fire, hands grabbing fist fulls of his sweater in hopes that he’d just take it off. Y/N wasn’t sure what type of body would be beneath it, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to feel his warm skin, lick and kiss all that she could while she worked her magic. Y/N waited for his directions, falling into the submissive role easily despite her initial approach. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’re gonna have to re-write that scene.”

Harry was going to give this girl any fucking thing she wanted. He let her guide his sweater off, the cool air hitting his skin not even getting a chance because her hands and mouth were all over him. It was like she had fallen into a heat, and Harry.... he loved it. He placed his hands under her sweater, feeling her hands smooth over his chest as she kissed at his neck and over his jaw. Her skin was hot under the sweater, his hands gripping her waist and smoothing over her hips, going up and sip to her ribs where he realized— fuck. 

“Not wearing a fucking bra?” He hissed. “Jesus... you’re a little minx, aren’t you? Off with this.” He spoke lowly, grabbing the ends of it but barely had a shot before Y/N ripped it off of her body. Fucks sake. She was sexier than he had ever imagined. “My god... you’re so sexy, baby.” He whispered, sitting up and burying his face between her breasts. Kissing the hot skin between them, working his way up with the wet, open mouthed kisses to her throat.

“Oh Daddy...” Y/N’s body shuddered at the feeling of his mouth on her, head falling back as she let out a happy sigh. He seemed to like her hand in his hair so she happily gripped at his locks as he scattered kisses over her skin. “Come ‘ere...” She whined, guiding him up to her lips. “Wanna taste your mouth.” Making eye contact with him in this moment felt intimate. All those quick glances in classes and at the coffee shop, all the day dreaming, it all built up to this moment where she fully felt she could let herself let go. The both of them wanted this, it was so reassuring, this was a safe space and they could do whatever they wanted. Y/N’s body rolled forward, pushing him further back onto the couch and angling her hips so she could tease the both of them before she let herself have it. Fuck was he hard... and full. Another moan left her lips, sounding more like a plea and cry for more.

“Fuck me... you’re needy. I love it.” Harry hissed, pulling her mouth to his. It wasn’t soft. No, this kiss... it was hot. Heavy. Her mouth opened and immediately he dragged his tongue inside, meeting hers. She tasted like the apple juice and a bit of mint, and he could groan just from how good it was. Sweet little Y/N wasn’t too innocent at all. “Fuck— keep teasing me like that. S’like you want to end up crying.” He had a feeling now that she did. She wanted his cock inside of her pussy, thrusting in and out and letting herself soak him. Yeah... he wanted it too. “Keep calling me daddy. You’re so dirty. Who would have fucking... known.” He spoke between the kisses, hands going for her jeans. He wanted them off, like hours ago. He was finally going to get her. “M’gonna lay you out in my bed after... first m’gonna fuck you, but M’gonna clean out your cunt with my tongue. And then M’gonna take you again. Yeah?” She has come for studying but was staying for hot sex and he hoped to turn it into a nice marathon. He had all weekend and he was hoping she wouldn’t have to go. He had too many idea for her. “Gonna let daddy lick it up?”

“Fuck— yes, gonna let daddy have his way with me...” She kept her hips rolling against his slowly, keeping the rhythm in check with the passionate kiss they were sharing. Y/N already knew this was going to be the best sex of her life, the kiss alone let her know that. His tongue would work wonders on her cunt and she’d be more than happy to return the favor. Hesitantly, Y/N began to stand to get her jeans off, one of her hands staying put on the back of his neck so the kiss didn’t break. She let him fiddle with the zipper, feeling his fingers hook both her jeans and underwear before yanking them down to which Y/N let out a little squeal. 

Y/N knew she had to pull away from the kiss for air but she didn’t want to, waiting till the very last minute until she couldn’t anymore and went to get his jeans off.

“Come on. Be good.” He murmured against her lips, brushing his hips up so she could get his pants off. She tugged and easily they came down, Harry kicking them off as he pulled her back in his lap. His hands gripped her bare ass and groaned when she pushed into them, not thinking twice before pulling his hand back and smacking it the sound rang in the room and she let out the most sexy noise against his mouth, making him hiss. Fuck. He wanted her so fucking badly. This girl... she was everything. One hand went to feel and fuck. Fuck shit, motherfuck, it was wet. She was so, wet. “Jesus— you’re so wet. Baby— holy shit, you’re soaked.” He whispered. “S’cause of me? You wanted daddy’s cock this bad?” He pulled his fingers off slightly, the arousal still stringing to his fingers. He placed them at her mouth and pushed them in. “That’s it. Clean them up, sweet girl. You’re so filthy, y’know that? Precious little thing. So slick and hot, want cock so fucking bad don’t you?” He cooed, feeling her suck on the digits. “Now.... rub it against your pussy. Don’t put it in yet. get it wet.”

Y/N sucked at his fingers as if it were her job, making sure to treat it like she would his cock which included eye contact. She loved looking at him, seeing his hungry expression and his eyes that seemed to say so much more than he did. Even the feeling of her cunt sliding over his cock sent tingles up her spine. It had never affected her this much with other guys, but she assumed it was different with Harry because she had wanted him for so long. Y/N let out a whimper, feeling a gush of wetness accumulate when he pushed his fingers in farther. Harry was hot in ways she couldn’t explain, there were little things he did that just hit the spot and made her want to fuck him even harder. Y/N was practically bouncing on his cock, aching for him to let her have it inside.

“You’re such a good girl. Listening so fucking well.” Harry took his fingers from her mouth, smirking at the whine and slight chasing of his fingers when he placed it on her breast. She gave it all to him and honestly, he was ready to just... lose it. “Go ahead. Take what you want.” It was not even a moment later that he felt her begin to sink down. She was tight— so damn tight, and he choked slightly at just how good the squeeze was. He let out a hiss, head thrown back in the couch as the slick, hit cunt sucked over him, squeezing hard as she stretched open slowly. “Holy fuck.” He growled, gripping both hips now and looking at her with a darkness in his eyes. “You’re so bloody tight— Christ, you’re squeezin’ me so good.” He whispered.

“Daddy!” She whimpered as she slid farther down on his cock until she couldn’t fit anymore of him in. “I’m so full— feels so good.” Her eyes rolled back a bit as she began to bounce at a slowed rhythm. Small moans and little huffs came from her throat with every stroke of her hips, it wasn’t until she felt warmed up that she actually went for it. Y/N shifted so that she had better balance, keeping her hands on his shoulders before dropping back down on his cock. “Fuck!” She squeaked, making sure to clench one her way back up before repeating the action at a quicker pace. It felt incredible. He was touching every little part of her, feeling small waves of pleasure spread throughout her body. “Daddy! Fuck— feels so good ahhh!” Her moans were pornographic, whiny, desperate and needy. She didn’t even know she could sound like that, but apparently it was possible when she was as thirsty for cock as she was.

Never would he have guessed that this would be the outcome of their hang out. He had hoped, sure. Dreamed? Absolutely. But the reality was so much better. He had the hot, wet and extremely tight pussy gliding up and down his cock. She was moaning, tits bouncing in his face, and she was vocal. More than he could have asked for. The infatuation he had with her was only growing. 

“Fuck, you’re a good girl. Such a perfect little cunt. Like bouncing on my cock, hm? Knew you’d be the perfect girl for me. Keep going.” His hand squeezed her ass, encouraging her to work herself on him. “Feels so full, yeah? Such a big cock filling such a little pussy. A nice stretch for you hm? So eager to be filled up...” her face was of pure bliss and Harry couldn’t help but take a mental photo. He hoped this could happen more than this once. “Knew you’d be good for me. Throwin’ yourself in my lap and begging to be fucked. Never guessed you’d be such a little slut, but I love it.” He took his hand, bringing it down sharply on her ass.

“Fuck!” Y/N gasped, her own hand moving to cuff his neck. It wasn’t as effective as him doing it to her, but it got the point across. The both of them grabbing at each other roughly, him thrusting up into her each time she slammed down. It could only be described as pure ecstasy, surely the hottest sex she had ever had. She needed him, she needed him to cum. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from leaning down to kiss his mouth again, making a mess of the two of them. “You’re so fucking good— love your cock, daddy... fucking love it!” She moaned between kisses, increasing her pace just enough so she could fuck him hard and steady. “I want you to cum for me daddy, wanna feel it nice and deep.” Thank fuck for IUDs. “Want you to fill me up while I cum all over your cock, can you do that for me? Can you cum with me?”

He was panting, lowering himself so he could properly thrust into her sopping cunt. He hadn’t gotten any in so long but this blew any and everyone out of the water. No one could ever understand how good this was. All the pining and imagining had come to an even better conclusion. 

“I’ll do it... but you... gotta promise me.” He growled, giving a particularly sharp thrust inside of her, making her wail. “Promise me I can do it again. Let me have this pussy more.” He didn’t want it to end if it was the only time he could get it. It was too good to let go of. Drooling all over his cock and her soft whimpers and dirty words had him more worked up than anything else. “Promise, baby, and I’ll let you have my cum.”

“Promise— I promise— fuck!” She felt her breath get caught in her throat at the particularly hard thrusts Harry was giving her. “Please Daddy, please give it to me.” Y/N whimpered, moving her hands so they cupped his cheeks, keeping eye contact with him as they continued to relentlessly thrust into each other. There was nothing more satisfying, nothing that managed to hit every part of her both physically and spiritually and made her feel so alive. When you’ve wanted something for so long it makes getting it that much better and she knew that she’d always be chasing this high that only he could give her. “I’m so close, fuck, daddy—“ She mumbled between kisses, squeezing around him and continuing at her pace to bring herself to the perfect high. “Cum with me daddy, please— ah!”

Harry would work on his stamina next round. But after the whole thing, he was close to losing his mind. She was giving him the most tempting offer and he wasn’t going to give it up. 

“Oh— fuck me.” He thrusted in again and again before he let himself go. Feeling her clench up around him and sob against his mouth, he let out a deep growl as he buried himself deep. Hot cum shooting inside of her cunt, rocking his hips in to get it all in there. There was no doubt that this was some of the most intense sex of his life but he was almost ready to go again, as soon as it ended. Holding her shivering form, her orgasm was tapering, he could feel her clenching still. “That’s it. Take all of it inside of you. Good girl.”

Y/N gripped Harry’s shoulders, loud screams of pleasure coming straight from her throat. There were no words to describe the high, she almost felt out of her own body as he showered her with praise. With her body shaking and face contorting with a silent scream, she found it in her to come back down letting out a pathetic whimper.

“Daddy—” She swallowed thickly, mouth finding his messily, pressing kisses to his lips and his face. The two of them were both lightly covered in sweat, breathing heavily and enjoying each other’s company. Y/N was far too blissed out to think about what just happened, but blissed out enough to know there would be many more rounds of this tonight. Y/N smiled as she nuzzled against his neck, still sponging kissing to his dampened skin. “Better?” She mumbled, smirking against his skin a bit.

“Mm.” He hummed, hands holding her hips still. Holy hell. This was the beginning of an amazing weekend- because he didn’t plan on letting her out at all, if he could help it’ he wanted her to stay, to let him indulge in her. “So fucking good.” He muttered lowly, rubbing his hand up her back and smoothing over her skin. Fucks sake. This was paradise. Nothing could pop him out of this. 

At least, that was until the doorbell rang. 

“Ah, fuck. The pizza.”

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masterlist

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

fuck I still haven't done the rewrite of the Mutant Town AU that I specifically came off hiatus to write, like the Plant Witch Sam and Pharaoh Tucker posts were written to prep this au and I just got wildly distracted so uhhhh

yeah the concept is in the link but the gist is that the people and town becoming mutated by constant ectoplasmic contamination, we all know and love this concept right but I'm gonna expand on it

this is a direct result of the portal being opened, but they aren't getting infected from the portal, the issue is that creating a permanent opening into the ghost zone has weakened the veil between their worlds and Amity Park and the Ghost Zone sort of slip in and out of each other constantly

and because ectoplasm responds strongly to emotions (poltergeists being made from atmospheric emotions for example) it all tends to converge very heavily at the school full of hormonal teenagers

so Casper High becomes its own god damn cryptid, the teachers get so jaded about opening the door to a classroom and finding just a whole ass ghost zone on the other side that they just put a sign on the door telling kids to go to a different room, lockers swap contents with other lockers so kids have started putting their names on the inside so they know who's stuff they've just found

this also means the kids get super affected, like super affected, literally, they all get ghost powers, some are just physical mutations, some are just super abilities, or a general increase in natural ability, like a member of the track team getting super speed

it takes a while for Danny and co. to figure this out, Sam and Tucker should have been warning signs as they've spent the most time around ghosts and the ghost zone, but that's why the Witch Sam and Pharaoh Tucker posts are important

they have powers, but they thought they came exclusively from outside sources, they had no idea that their abilities were also strengthened and influenced by being highly contaminated by ectoplasm, which is why when one day Mikey sneezes and green acid shoots out of his nose and melts his desk, everyone is a little bit startled

the teachers have long since started using ghost detectors after the time Paulina spent a whole week overshadowed by Kitty, so Mikey gets a check over and other than the usual atmospheric reading Lancer gets nothing especially strong from him

there have been concerns about the gradually increasing ectoplasmic content in the air messing with ghost detector results, the devices have to be recalibrated constantly, so Lancer asks the one and only son of the local ghost hunters in the room if he has some other way to check

Danny's parents make him keep a few protective items in his schoolbag, so he tries some gear on him to see if anything comes flying out, but nothing does, Danny isn't too surprised seeing as he couldn't sense a ghost in the room anyway, but it definitely makes things a little concerning

even if it were a repeat of the Spectra incident and he wasn't being overshadowed, the Fenton's tech would have still gotten rid of whatever was causing this if it were an external influence

Mikey is sent home for the day and his parents are told to keep an eye on him

and then the next week, Star drops a pen off her desk and a strand of her hair whips out to grab it, she's also checked for ghost influence and sent home

a few weeks after that it happens again, a kid on the basketball team makes a leap to the net and stays in the air, they have to call in the cheerleaders to climb on top of each other to reach him and pull him down

Danny has been trying to figure out what's happening from the first moment with Mikey, and his parents have also been getting calls from worried parents who want to know if they can fix whatever's happening to their kids

over the next couple of months, every kid in the school has some kind of ability or mutation, Dash heals whoever he touches, which he discovers after punching Nathan in the face and curing his acne, Paulina turns invisible, which freaks her out at first until she realises it's great for eavesdropping, Wes can conjure fire (because I desperately needed him to have a polarising ability to Danny), Kwan becomes empathic and can feel and influence people's emotions

Valerie also had an early mutation that she didn't know about, when Technus gave her a new suit, her body pretty much just absorbed it as a part of her, Technus had not intended this to happen, and was pretty peeved about it, Valerie found out that she had stolen control over the suit when Technus had a big rant about it during a fight, and she put the pieces together once other kids started developing abilities

this whole thing causes a ton of chaos as kids are struggling to control what they can do, so Danny has to step in and help them out, he often has to run off to change into Phantom in order to protect everyone from an ability that's gone haywire, he ends up pretty much running ghost power training courses after school to help them control themselves

he's also gotten stuck in situations where he's had to step in and help someone without having the time to change forms, meaning he has to make up a cover story about having developed his own powers way before everyone else since he's been living on top of a portal for years, he only tells people about his ice powers

Jazz has always had a tendency to be able to reign in her emotions and keep a cool head, (the only ones who can really push her buttons are Danny and sometimes her parents, at school around other kids who look up to her she's often very in control) meaning she doesn't draw ectoplasm to herself all that much, and though Danny uses the excuse of having lived on top of a ghost portal to explain why he's already so familiar with using his power, it's actually not even remotely true, because the Fentons use specialised air purifiers to keep the atmospheric ectoplasm at a manageable level, the Fenton house ironically has the least atmospheric contamination compared to the rest of the town, that's how Maddie and Jack have had limited mutation to themselves (though they aren't wholly free, they've mostly just gotten physically stronger and tougher)

so even though Jazz develops her power a little earlier than everyone else's, it's not that far ahead, and she actually doesn't even realise she already has one until half the school has developed theirs

Jazz has the power to slow time in a little bubble around herself, she'd been using it without realising while studying, having gotten through hours of work in half that time, she always thought it was just her losing track of time or she was just getting faster at reading, she also spends a lot of time counselling other students and trying to help them sort out their problems, and they'd often comment that they felt like they'd been talking for so much longer than they had, again she just chalked it up to losing track of time

a lot of students had wondered why Danny developed a power early and Jazz hadn't, until someone walked in on Jazz helping a girl through a panic attack in the bathroom, and found them both talking extremely fast, a lot of her friends realised in hindsight that she'd been doing that unwittingly for quite a while, nobody had noticed because she always talked to people privately, so nobody outside her little time bubble had seen it happen

Sam and Tucker come clean about their abilities too, but they also don't give the full rundown, still keeping some things close to the chest to avoid standing out from everyone else

then there's the teachers

adults typically have a better time regulating emotions than teenagers, meaning much like Jazz they aren't drawing as much ectoplasm toward themselves, but this doesn't exempt them from developing something after a while, especially with the heightened stress of managing a school full of volatile super kids

Mr Lancer discovers that he can create shields, after an incident where he jumps in front of some students to protect them from another power gone awry

Tetslaff ends up with a sonic ability, able to project her voice like a megaphone (yes this is a Coach Boomer from Sky High reference don't @ me), Principal Ishiyama develops a physical mutation, growing to twice her size, she likes that she can tower over the students while delivering speeches, but she doesn't like having to stoop through doors all the time, she has the one to her office resized, along with her chair and desk

so as you can imagine, the town ends up erupting into chaos, a lot of kids very much misuse their abilities, Danny does his best as Phantom to teach people to be responsible, but sometimes he has to resort to literally kicking their asses to get them to straighten up

but for the most part, a ton of kids were already looking up to him, and are generally pretty happy to follow his example, especially the more popular kids, it's generally considered not very cool to get your ass kicked by Phantom, so weirdly enough a lot of kids get peer pressured into not causing any real damage or injury with their powers

this doesn't mean they don't absolutely misuse them, they're just more subtle about it

until a ghost shows up, a lot of the kids are more than happy to let loose to protect themselves and their friends, and Phantom for the most part is happy to let them, with some supervision of course, he still has to make sure nobody gets too hurt (including the ghosts)

the entire debacle makes Danny's life simultaneously a whole lot easier AND so much more fucking stressful

[andatsea]

XP-Pen Artist Pro 24 Review

I drew this with an XP-Pen Artist Pro 24, which the team at XP-Pen kindly sent to me for review. I’ve had to opportunity to use this tablet on-and-off over the course of the past several weeks, and while there were a few issues my overall impression is positive.

Unboxing / Contents

Apart from the 24” display tablet itself, the package comes with the usual cabling peripherals, plus some bonus extras. If your machine supports a USB-C connection for display, you’ll only need the one cable (plus the power connection). Otherwise, there’s a HDMI and a USB-C to USB converter included as well.

The extras include: an additional stylus, a one-size-fits-all artist’s glove, and a microfiber cloth.

The container for the stylus twists open to reveal 8 extra stylus nibs. Its cap can also be removed to use as a stylus holder.

Driver (Installation & General Use)

There were a few issues with installation, mostly tied to interactions between the driver, Windows 10 and Windows Ink.

Initially, brush strokes were offset from the stylus’ point of contact with the screen by about 3-4 centimetres when attempting to draw in Photoshop CS6. Random straight strokes also occurred frequently. This same problem did not occur in MS Paint or Photoshop CC 2019. This was fixed by changing the UI scaling setting for the monitor in Windows settings from 125% (which was apparently the default) to 100%.

Initially, brush strokes had no pen pressure in Photoshop CC 2019. Photoshop CS6, on the other hand, did (but suffered from the previous offset problem). This was fixed by turning on the Windows Ink setting in the XP-Pen driver menu. So in other words: CC 2019 needs Windows Ink on to recognise pen pressure, while CS6 didn’t, but was affected by UI scaling.

Interestingly, if Windows Task Manager was in focus and Windows Ink was not enabled in driver settings, stylus input was not recognised at all. There may be other programs that have this issue, but this was the only one I encountered so far.

I will say that I’ve had many problems with Wacom drivers interacting badly with Windows Ink and other things in the past before, so these types of issues are not exclusive to the XP-Pen drivers.

I’m currently using driver version 3.0.5, a beta build that has a lovely UI; it’s clear and laid out well. I did also try version 1.6.4 initially, which was fine — the UI for that version was similar to the layout you find with Wacom drivers.

Apart from the issues during installation that required troubleshooting, I haven’t had many major complaints with the driver in day-to-day use, I do think that there are a few areas for improvement, however.

The driver stops working correctly each time the computer is set to sleep and woken up again. To fix this the driver must be exited from the system tray and then relaunched.

There also doesn’t seem to be a way to bind WIN+SHIFT+ARROW to any of the express keys. WIN+SHIFT+ARROW (left or right arrow) is the Windows shortcut to quickly move a focused window to another monitor, so it’s something I use a lot if I’m on a multi-monitor setup. Unfortunately, attempting to set this shortcut in the express keys menu will simply move the actual driver window over to the other monitor while the custom input is not properly recognised in the text field.

The driver does offer a “switch monitor” option for the express keys that when clicked will transfer your stylus input to another monitor, which is extremely useful.

Screen

At 24” with a 2560x1440p QHD resolution, images are sharp and crisp even when viewed from a close range while drawing. Genuinely, it feels great to paint on based off this aspect alone.

The colour temperature is set to 6500K by default in the the driver settings. I think initially it felt just a touch too saturated, but overall I’m fairly happy with the colour display.

The monitor has touch-sensitive inputs on the top right corner: a -/+ for quickly adjusting the brightness, a menu for further settings, and power. I found myself using these to adjust the brightness throughout the day frequently. The power input requires a few seconds of continued contact from your finger to react, which prevents you from accidentally brushing it and turning the monitor on/off.

The monitor comes with a built-in stand. I found it easy to adjust to different viewing angles and also incredibly sturdy. I had no problems leaning on the monitor while drawing.

The monitor also comes with a pre-applied anti-glare screen protector. I wasn’t bothered by it and it seems to be holding out well after several weeks of use. I think the screen itself definitely needs the additional anti-glare, as being a display tablet means that it’s significantly more reflective than my main display.

Stylus

My first impression of the stylus was that it’s lighter in comparison to the Wacom styluses that I’m used to — there is very little to no weighting on the back end of the stylus, which makes it feel noticeably different when gripped. To be honest, though, I forgot about it when I was actually painting. Still, I would prefer a bit more weighting because I do think it makes the stylus more comfortable to hold overall for long periods of time.

There’s also no eraser nib, but I’ve personally never used those on Wacom tablets (I always use shortcuts to switch between brush and eraser instead) so this was a non-issue for me.

The two shortcut buttons on the side of the stylus sit quite flat to the surface, so I think they would be less likely to bother people who don’t use them. I use them a lot, however, and found that they were still easy to click despite being quite flat.

Unfortunately however I ran into a curious issue with using one of the stylus buttons to activate the eyedropper tool. When the “alt” key is mapped to one of the triggers on the stylus, activation of the eyedropper function in Photoshop (tested in both CS6 and CC 2019) is somewhat unreliable. That is, when the “alt” key is held down, the expected result is that once you tap the stylus on the canvas, a “mouse-click” will be triggered and the eyedropper will activate. While this works perfectly fine if you hold down “alt” from the keyboard (or hold down an “alt” that’s bound to one of the 20 express keys), when you hold “alt” from a stylus trigger I found that tapping quickly with the stylus only seemed to activate the eyedropper about 50% of the time. In order to activate it more reliably, I had to press harder and longer with the stylus, which can become tiring and slowed down my painting process. I also found that frequently, pressing down longer would lock me into the eyedropping function until I clicked the trigger key again.

After submitting feedback about this XP-Pen’s R&D department, I was informed that this issue occurs because the stylus is only able to send one message to the tablet at a time. Pressing “alt” on the stylus and trying to “click” at the same time counts as two messages, which may interact with each other unexpectedly. This is why it sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t.

The buttons seem to otherwise work completely fine for any other functions that don’t require the stylus to send two simultaneous messages, so unless you’re like me and like to bind “alt” to a stylus trigger, this won’t affect you.

Pen Pressure & Activation Force

Most current-gen tablets flash a big number for the pen pressure levels as a selling point. Having used tablets with 512, 2k, 4k and 8k levels of pressure sensitivity, I’d say I noticed the biggest difference when switching from 512 to 2k, but in my opinion beyond 2k the change is minimal and has no real impact on the way I draw. The XP-Pen Artist Pro 24 comes with 8192 levels of sensitivty, which is a very big number, but in practical application all I can say is that it works the way I expect it to and I don’t have any complaints regarding the transition between pressure levels on the default linear pressure curve.

More importantly I did notice that the IAF (initial activation force) was not as low as I would have liked. Very light input is not recognised, or only partially recognised before dropping off and on again. In a practical sense this doesn’t actually impact me through most of (perhaps 97%) of the painting process, but it did give me pause once in a while when I wanted to make a really light stroke and had to adjust my method. The drivers for this tablet do come with a pressure curve you can adjust to your preferences, so this can help a little, although after some tests I preferred to leave mine on the default setting.

Summary of Drawing Experience (tl;dr)

I think the mark of a good tool or piece of hardware is that it does not draw attention to itself during the course of its use. An ideal drawing experience allows me to be fully immersed in the act of drawing without having my focus shifted to dealing with the tool. With this in mind the XP-Pen Artist Pro performed very well for the most part, but was held back by a couple of issues.

Pros:

The monitor resolution honestly feels great to look at; the pixel density means that I can basically forget about pixels even with my face positioned closer to the screen.

The parallax between the tip of the stylus and the actual position of input was very minimal and basically not noticeable for me, especially after the simple calibration process offered by the driver.

At normal room temperature (say up to about mid-20’s celsius) the monitor screen stays impressively cool to the touch and I was never bothered by resting my drawing hand on its surface even when painting for long sessions.

The 20 express keys and 2 roller rings are extremely helpful and I actually found myself using all of them, despite initially thinking that I’d only need half of them. The keys are also comfortable and responsive to click (which sounds like it should obviously be so, but having used some Intuos iterations in the past which had some very annoying-to-click express keys, I don’t take this feature for granted anymore).

Cons:

The driver needs to be restarted everytime the computer wakes from sleep in order to work.

Higher IAF was noticeable when very light strokes were desirable. Also, the input will on rare occasions glitch by performing a completely straight max opacity + max brush size stroke. This seemed to happen primarily when I was trying to get light strokes to register. (It didn’t happen often enough to bother me much since it’s just a quick undo, but it did happen enough times that I noticed it.)

The issue with eyedropping using “alt” mapped to a stylus trigger as detailed above. Quite unlucky for someone like me who has over a decade of muscle memory for this particular mapping.

Overall, as I said at the beginning, my impression of the tablet is positive. While I think it has room for improvement when it comes to driver performance and the initial activation force especially, it also has a lot to offer at a highly competitive price point ($900USD at retail), and it would’ve been amazing if something like this had been available to me back when I first started digital painting. As I do enjoy using it for the most part I’ll probably continue to use it on-and-off in future.

[simply-a-simp4]

I used a randomizer and the ship is Jingo Raichi x Seshiro Nagi

TW: Swearing??? I dunno

Them Changes; High school au (just to make it easier for myself lol)

Everyone in this damned school annoys me. My classmates, my teammates, my teachers, the principal, and even the people in my gang. They either hate me or despise me. Well, look who hates them back, bitch. Glares were sent my way, and the seats next to me always empty, having to scare someone into being my partner for PE. The list can go just as long as James Bond’s hit list. I was sitting in the worst situation possible. Aka, science class in the stuffy classroom on a Tuesday afternoon. Everyone either wants to die or go home. Screw the difference between animal cells and plant cells. Screw microscopes. Screw atoms.

I sighed, leaning my head on my arm and not reacting as I hear my black pen fall on the ground for the 163rd time. My science book was open to a blank page, remembering that I had to write down whatever the stupid teacher was blabbing on about. I started nodding off, the heat of the classroom paired with the droning background noise of my monotone teacher made my eyes start to close. A sudden knock on the classroom’s sliding door jolted me out of my sleep-induced trance. The door opened at the call of the teacher and someone entered. Not that I cared, but I’d just never seen him before. Sleepy, ox-brown eyes that were half shut, droopy white hair that almost covered his eyes and must be too long for the school’s regulations. He walked in, dragging his feet into the class and lazily looking around. His eyes locked onto the empty seat next to me and he begrudgingly plopped his stuff down on the desk and slid onto the seat. His movements were very similar to a sloth, I noticed. But whatever. Just another NPC in the amazing story of how Jingo Raichi became Japan’s best army official. I focus my already little attention back on the teacher, huffing through my nose to show my disinterest. My ear twitched as I heard a quiet rustling sound from next to me, and I turned to see what it was. The sloth boy had sneaked a small loaf of bread and was eating it behind an upturned book. He must’ve noticed my staring and he broke a small piece of bread off and slowly held it out to me, eyes still looking down at the bread. I jolted for the second time, staring at the piece that was held out to me. Kindness and generosity were things that people usually saves for others they liked. I don’t know why, out of politeness I assumed, I took the piece of bread with a gravelly “thanks” and popped it into my mouth. It tasted like, unsurprisingly, bread. The sloth boy slowly drew his hand back and resumed chewing on his little bread loaf. What the fuck just happened??? I started playing with the black earring on my left ear, deep in thought. Clearly, this class is too boring to be thinking about anything other than the soft, sloth-looking boy next to me. It must’ve been a while since someone gave me food without me having to punch them first. I winced a bit, remembering the time when I saw the brown-haired boy have a better lunch than me so I beat him up to get it. His name is Kuon, I think. We must’ve been friends. He always avoided me after that, though. Not that I cared, all the people here are just jealous stepping stones for my greatness.

“Oi.” I whisper-yelled. The sleepy boy slowly inched his head towards my direction. His ox-like eyes were still glued to his bread, which was slowly dwindling in size. He made a soft, low “hm?” sound, but it was so quiet that if he didn’t move his head an inch then I would’ve thought that he didn’t hear me. A vein pulsed in my head and a small spike of annoyance hit me when he didn’t even bother to look over. I harshly pulled him towards me by his light-grey hoodie until my mouth was inches from his ear. His eyes kept staring at the bread. I narrowed my eyes, hoping that I looked intimidating as usual.

“What’s your damn name, sloth boy?”

“Roses are red, violets are blue,” he muttered, “If I had a brick, I would throw it at you.”

The End

[biggest-stupidhead]

Never Ready

Summary: “It’s not like I’m ready to take her in.”

“And I was ready for you? Kid, nobody is ever ready for things like this. That doesn’t mean they don’t happen.” Levi is faced with the difficult decision of taking in his newly orphaned cousin. But he can't do it alone.You're a newly graduated college student looking to make some extra cash, but get more than you originally bargained for...

Word Count: 2.3K 

--

The day had started just like any other day. He woke up early and worked out before making himself a small breakfast of tea and an English muffin with some jam. Then he got dressed for work in one of his perfectly tailored suits. His routine was flawless, perfected over many years to allow him to seamlessly slip from one task into the next. He arrived one full hour before work actually began so that he could organize his desk and get a jump on the day’s cleaning. He liked working in a clean environment, if this step was missed (or really any of them for that matter), his entire day was thrown off. 

And today was one of those days. About four minutes before the office officially opened, Levi got a phone call. He had the phone wedged between his ear and his shoulder as he finished wiping down his desk with a clorox wipe. 

“We regretfully inform you that your cousin and his wife were involved in an armed robbery.” 

He froze at this, his eyes narrowing as the woman waited for his response. 

“What was stolen?” He asked before continuing to wipe down the surface. 

“Sir…” The woman spoke slowly and Levi began to lose his patience. 

“Listen, I appreciate the phone call but quite honestly I don’t have time for this.” He said bitterly as he disposed of the wipe. 

“This is very important sir, your cousin, and his wife were both murdered in the process.” The woman informed him and his blood ran cold. Although he had never been close with his extended family, the news was still tragic. 

“I see,” Levi grumbled as a boulder seemed to settle in the pit of his stomach. 

“I’m calling regarding their daughter, Mikasa. Seeing that Mr. Ackerman was an only child, as was Mrs. Ackerman, and their parents have passed, you and your uncle are her next of kin.” The woman continued as Levi sank into his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What do we need to do?” Levi sighed as he closed his eyes, waiting patiently for her response. 

“You have a few options, either of you could gain full parental rights to her, or she will become a ward of the state.” Some shuffling could be heard on her end of the line and Levi felt his heart rate spike. For a time in his own life, he had been thrown into the system, that was until his own uncle had gained custody after sobering up. 

“I understand,” Levi grumbled, watching as his coworkers set about their daily business as he was dealing with this unforeseen issue. 

“The decision doesn’t need to be made immediately of course. I strongly encourage that the two of you discuss this at length. The funeral is this Thursday, Mikasa and myself will be there and we can talk in greater depth then.” The sound of a keyboard clacking filled the short silence as he considered what an appropriate response would be. 

“I’ll...get back to you.” He leaned forward in his seat and clicked on his calendar, crossing out the lengthy list of tasks and replacing it with, FUNERAL. 

“Thank you, and sorry for your loss.” He hung up the phone and reclined back into his seat. This was quite possibly the biggest disruption he would ever face in his life. He hated that his cousin and his shitty wife had left this burden to rest on his shoulders. But upon further thought, his own mother had done the same thing to his uncle. You know what they say: history repeats itself. 

It seemed that as soon as he had set the phone down, it rang. His uncle’s contact lit up his screen and he let it ring three times before picking it up. 

“Did ya hear?” Kenny’s deep voice crackled over his speaker and Levi grunted. 

“Yeah, just got off of the phone with the social worker,” Levi informed him and Kenny hummed deeply. 

“What do you think?” He pressed and Levi felt his annoyance increase by tenfold. 

“I think that it’s a load of shit. And you?” Levi asked as he crossed his legs under his desk. 

“Same here.” Kenny agreed. 

“It’s not ideal, but we can’t let her go into foster care,” Kenny grumbled and Levi hummed his agreement. Kenny was right, even if she was distantly related, Mikasa was still a part of their family. 

“So are you going to take custody then?” Levi scoffed, knowing damn well that Kenny was pushing fifty and had a chronic case of bad arthritis. 

“Hell no, I’ve done my part by raising you.” Kenny laughed bitterly and Levi’s expression soured. 

“It’s not like I’m ready to take her in.” Levi countered and Kenny let out another bark of laughter. 

“And I was ready for you? Kid, nobody is ever ready for things like this. That doesn’t mean they don’t happen.” Kenny chuckled mirthfully as Levi shifted in his seat. He knew that Kenny was right, and he knew from the moment that the social worker had said that Mikasa needed someone, that it would be him taking her. 

“I’ll need to get a bigger place then.” Levi sighed his fingers rubbing tight circles over his temple as he thought of his bachelor-sized apartment. 

“Damn straight.” Kenny chuckled as Levi shot a look at the clock, it was nearly twenty minutes into the workday already. 

“Look, I’m at work. I’ll talk to you on Thursday at the funeral.” 

“See you then.” Kenny hung up and Levi let out a long exhale. His week was off to a terrible start. 

--

In movies, funerals are usually held in dreary weather. But today was almost too beautiful for a funeral. It was late January and the ground was covered in a thick blanket of sparkling snow. As the coffins were lowered into the two holes the social worker held Mikasa on her hip. She was only four, and there was no way that she could fully grasp what had happened. Levi stood with his hands shoved deep inside of his pockets. 

Kenny stood off to his left, a large distance between the two of them. There couldn’t have been more than seven people here, Levi assumed that they were friends of the family. The other attendees came up to him before and gave their condolences to Levi and Kenny, who both said nothing in return. The service was quick, Levi and Kenny had opted out of paying more than what the state offered. In Kenny’s own words, “Dead is dead, no fancy funeral is going to help them now.” 

To some, it may seem heartless, but it was the way that the family coped with death. Once the funeral was over, Kenny and Levi joined the service worker to get a cup of coffee in a nearby cafe. She had passed Mikasa off to a brunette woman before leaving the cemetery. Levi assumed that she was the foster woman that they had placed her with, or possibly a family friend. 

“So, I understand that you wish to gain custody?” Michelle was a middle-aged woman with graying hair and prominent wrinkles on her forehead. As she flipped through files that were spread across the table Levi nodded as he sipped his tea. 

“That’s correct,” Levi affirmed and she nodded before spinning the paperwork so that he could read the form. 

“I’m sure that you understand that this is no small commitment.” She spoke as she passed him a pen. He scoffed and began initialing and signing where necessary. 

“Of course,” Levi grunted before flipping the page. 

“Before you can gain full custody, the state will need to see some changes in your lifestyle, for starters, you’ll need to move within her current school district and continue to hold a steady job.” 

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Levi mumbled, pausing to read the paper before signing. 

“Excellent, once these needs are met, she can be placed under your care,” Michelle informed as Levi skimmed over the page. 

“Anything else?” Levi asked as he signed the last form presented to him. 

“Not at this time, I’m sure that you’re well versed in most of our policies, seeing that the two of you went through a similar process.” Michelle continued as she neatly returned the papers to their folder. 

“Yes.” Levi agreed as he brought his cup back to his lips. Kenny had been silent for most of the exchange. If Levi was being honest, he was relieved to have him there, even if he wasn’t contributing. 

“Great, we’ll be in touch then.” Michelle smiled tensely before excusing herself, leaving Kenny and Levi alone at the table. Kenny finished his coffee and stood up, stretching with a loud groan. 

“Well, I’m off to the office,” Kenny said with a short wave behind his shoulder. Levi watched him go, feeling a strange sense of dread settle into his gut. It all felt so surreal, even if he was thirty and most of his peers were already parents themselves, he still felt unprepared. It was just like Kenny had said, nothing could prepare him to take on this role. That didn’t mean that it wasn’t his to take, and he would be damned if he let Mikasa get thrown into the foster care system. 

Levi set to work on finding a house in the district that the social worker had given him. He had never been a fan of suburbs, but at this time it was all that he could afford. So he found a decent house with four bedrooms, one for himself, one for Mikasa one for guests, and a final for a study. He was lucky enough to have a decent job, and a respectable grasp on his finances, it took him a week to finalize the buy, but in the end, he was glad that he did. 

He had been meaning to get out of his stuffy apartment anyway, (or so he reasoned with himself), he moved his belongings out of his downtown apartment in less than a week. Once the house was effectively moved into, he then began the tedious process of preparing Mikasa’s things. He started by doing research on what four-year-olds needed and then set about buying the necessities. He felt out of place as he shopped through Target in the little girl’s section, buying bedding and such. But he got the job done, he knew that she had to have some clothes, and decided that he’d cross that bridge when he got there. 

It was the night before Michelle was scheduled to visit, and Levi had invited Hange over for a drink. Hange had nosed around for about an hour, acquainting herself with Levi’s new space and gushing when she saw the modest room that he had prepared for Mikasa. 

“I can’t believe that you’re actually going through with this!” Hange cooed as she sat on the small bed. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked defensively as he propped himself on the doorframe. Honestly, he had been avoiding this room, it felt that if he acknowledged the space, the heavier the weight of the situation crushed his chest. 

“I just...never thought that you liked kids. But I’m really proud of you.” Hange beamed as she smoothed out the pink comforter as she stood. 

“What made you think that I didn’t like kids?” He scoffed as the pair left the room, he closed the door quietly behind them as they made their way into the kitchen. 

“Oh I don’t know, maybe I just made the assumption based on your obsession with cleanliness.” Hange waved her hand dismissively and Levi clicked his tongue as he poured two glasses of wine. 

“They are filthy.” Levi agreed as he brought the glass of red wine to his lips. 

“What’s she like?” Hange asked, wrapping her own fingers around her glass as she eagerly awaited his response. 

“....I haven’t met her.” Levi felt a wave of panic crash over his chest as Hange’s eyes widened. 

“Never?” Hange couldn’t hide her astonishment. 

“Never,” Levi said with a roll of his eyes. 

“You’re serious?” Hange pressed and Levi glared at her. 

“Do I ever joke about these things?” Levi snapped and she held her hands up in defeat. 

“I’m just surprised is all,” Hange mumbled before taking a long sip of her wine. 

“I wasn’t close with her parents,” Levi explained as he put the cork back on the bottle. 

“Well...maybe you should take some extra time off of work,” Hange suggested and Levi sighed deeply. 

“I can’t, I’ve already taken off more than I planned.” Levi sat on the barstool next to Hange and she swiveled to face him, their knees knocking against each other. 

“But this is not something that you take lightly Levi. She’s a four-year-old girl who lost both of her parents. She’s going to need a lot of attention.” Hange looked concerned and Levi’s expression soured. 

“I understand that, but my job is-” 

“Is not your priority anymore. Have you thought about what you’re going to do for childcare yet? She’s too young for school. Or at least not full days.” Hange interrupted. 

“So I’ll put her in daycare, or preschool.” Levi shrugged and Hange pursed her lips. 

“That could work, but don’t you usually stay late at the office?” Hange pressed and Levi chewed on the inside of his cheek guiltily. 

“Maybe you should consider getting a nanny. Plenty of my student’s nanny, I could give you some good recommendations.” She offered before lifting her glass to her lips. 

“Maybe…” Levi suddenly felt way in over his head, if all went well in the morning, then Mikasa would be sent his way in nearly a week. 

“I’ll ask around on Monday,” Hange said, reaching out to pat his shoulder. For once, he didn’t shy away. 

[obabyobeymeme]

Resting with the Boys[TM]

summary: what i think falling asleep with them around would be like. that- that’s it, that’s the post note: yayayayy first post! this has been in my notes app for a Long time, so.. buckle up, this is going to be kinda long no matter what i do, thoughts went brrrrrr, sorry lmao.

Lucifer ➛ Good luck getting a moment alone with him. With all the work he has assigned by Diavolo, the time he spends cleaning up after his brothers’ shenanigans, and his duties as the eldest, it seems like he never has free time. ➛ When you do catch him alone, he’s either not in the mood for any sort of interaction or he’s taken the liberty of passing out at his desk, pen still in hand as he rests. ➛ You aren’t doing so well yourself, being a human exchange student doesn’t mean R.A.D. will go easy on you. Classes, assignments, and sometimes even just having to deal with the rest of the student body can be pretty tiring. ➛ Your patience pays off when the day finally comes that he’s mostly free of duties and your assigned tasks at the moment are all finished as well.

➛ You two don’t really do much, you spend the time talking over hot beverages and enjoying each other’s company in his office. Just having you around and not causing a ruckus is already more than enough for him. ➛ Lucifer ends up going on a halfhearted rant about his brothers as he organizes some papers next to you. How he found out about another one Satan and Belphie’s plots to inconvenience him and how he’ll turn it against them, wondering how the house hasn’t been decimated while he went on business trips sometimes... It’s nice seeing him not as uptight as he usually is. ➛ You end up getting a little drowsy despite your best attempts to listen to what he’s saying. Eventually your drowsiness wins over and you kinda.. nod off. Hopefully he doesn’t mind. (He does mind, actually. Sleeping sitting down may sound like a good idea at first, but Lucifer knows your neck will hate you for it when you wake up.) ➛ He doesn’t want to wake you, so he carefully nudges your head onto his lap before finishing up with the papers, occasionally running his hand through your hair. ➛ Once he’s done, he carries you to your room and makes sure you’re comfortable before leaving a kiss on your forehead and leaving, closing the door softly behind him.

Mammon ➛ When you suggest a lazy afternoon to him, he’ll act as if he has no time for a silly activity like that. Why would he? The Great Mammon has better things to do with his time than spending it lazing around with some- ➛ He trails off once he sees your slightly disappointed face. When you say you’ll find someone else to nap with, he changes his tune almost instantly. ➛ He just.. takes your wrist and goes “W-well, if ya want it THAT badly... but just this once, got it??” as he sorta tugs you along to his bedroom. ➛ This is where you learn that he has no idea how to share a bed with someone else. He seems torn between wanting to scoot closer or give you as much space he can without actually leaving the bed. ➛ You decide to make the decision for him, resting your head on his shoulder as you start rambling. Mammon warms up eventually and slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you a bit closer. ➛ You drift off during a lull in the conversation, unintentionally leaving him hanging for a full minute before he realizes you’re asleep. ➛ He watches you for a while and makes sure you’re really out, then reaches for his phone and takes a picture (or five) of your sleeping face. What? You’re cute even when you sleep apparently! He’d rather go through one of Lucifer’s scoldings than admit that to your face in the near future though. ➛ You know that meme where people say they can't do anything because a cat fell asleep on them? Yeah, that happened to Mammon because of the arm he placed around you, he ended up falling asleep with you wrapped in his arms. ➛ When you wake up, you cannot move without his grip getting just a bit tighter. Greedy even in his sleep, it seems... rip if you have to go to the bathroom lmao

Leviathan ➛ You two spent pretty much the whole day in his room, geeking out over shared interests, catching up on anime Levi introduced to you, trying (and occasionally failing) at the games you both play ➛ You don’t even notice it’s well past 1 AM until you feel like you’ve been staring at a screen for an awful long time now, what time is- oh. ➛ Levi’s slightly disappointed that your hangout has to end, but yeah, he gets it. Everyone needs their sleep, even hardcore otakus. He’s about to tell you that you can leave when you flop into his bathtub bed, saying you’re too tired to walk all the way back. ➛ He short-circuits at the sight of you wrapping yourself around one of the many body-sized pillows, and when you realize he still has to get in the tub to sleep? And instead of getting out, you sit up and insist on him getting in with you??? ➛ A system error has occurred. Please restart your Leviathan. Come on, this is like that one scene in this shoujo anime he’s found where the main character and the person they’re pining for share a bed! ➛ He doesn’t say anything, but judging by the expression he’s making and how he’s clambering in behind you, you don’t think he minds too much. ➛ You two end up with his upper body propped up by the pillows and you kinda laying on top of him. It's a bit awkward considering the unconventional sleeping area, but it’s honestly more comfortable than you expected. ➛ Levi actually ends up falling asleep before you. You thought you were tired? Try being awake for 22 hours straight waiting for an exclusive merch drop you just couldn’t miss. He is out, and nothing you do can wake him. ➛ You both end up waking around noon thanks to your little late night stunt. Consider yourselves lucky that Satan saved you guys a plate before Beel got to it.

Satan ➛ He finds you in the House’s library, bent over at a table studying three textbooks at once. Understandable, given that it’s exam season, but it doesn’t look like you’re doing yourself any favors. ➛ And he’s right. You can’t make sense of anything in the books and you can feel a small headache coming on ➛ Satan offers to give you some help with your studies... after you’ve rested. He won’t take no for an answer, and since his room is much closer, he thinks it’s fine if you crash there while you take a break. ➛ He just has to... actually make space for you to rest first, though. He can navigate the chaos that is his room just fine, but you could easily trip on something, or worse, accidentally activate something cursed. ➛ Once that’s taken care of, you take a seat on his bed, scrolling through your D.D.D. as he takes one of the chairs, picking up a novel he bookmarked.  ➛ The scent of the books and the occasional sound of a page turning as Satan reads, along with his occasional hums of interest really helped put you at ease. After a couple of moments, despite yourself, you curl up and drift off. ➛ In between page turns, Satan would turn to check on you. When he realizes you’re asleep, he marks his novel and sets it down, turning to face you instead.  Since he knows his room can get a bit drafty sometimes, he drapes a blanket over you, smiling softly as you wrap the blanket more around yourself. ➛ You looking so cozy almost makes him want to join you, but just seeing that you’re comfy and much less stressed than before is enough right now. He instead gives you a head pat and goes back to his novel, the smile never quite leaving his face.

Asmodeus ➛ You know Asmo loves spending time together, from shopping trips to going to new places to even simple things like a tea spilling session every other night. ➛ So when you come to his room one evening to tell him sorry, you don’t really feel like a night on the town right now and would rather stay in and recharge, he’s not even as disappointed as you’d thought he’d be. ➛ He insists on pampering you both tonight, that way, you get to rest and relax with him, and he gets you all to himself for at least a couple of hours, uninterrupted. It’s a win-win scenario, in his opinion, and who are you to decline? ➛ You let him work his magic with whatever he has laying around, falling into your usual routine of talking as he does his and your nails and readies a face mask for the two of you as ambient music from his D.D.D. fills the air. ➛ When you find yourself getting sleepy, Asmo doesn’t mind at all! He puts away the stuff he used and suggests a little impromptu sleepover. ➛ You shouldn’t have been that surprised when he climbs into the bed after you, and you should’ve realized he’d be just as clingy in bed as he is normally. He can and will be all over you if you let him— running his fingers through your hair, cuddles like there’s no tomorrow...  ➛ His ridiculously soft and comfy bed definitely isn’t helping matters, and you drift off in record time. ➛ He’ll make sure you’re all tucked in and maybe internally squeal at how adorable you’re being, leaning into his touch in your sleep makes his heart do a flip ➛ You wake up the next day feeling like a new person, and next to you, looking surprisingly photogenic for someone half-asleep, is Asmo, tugging you back under the covers because it’s warmer with you in there. 

Beelzebub ➛ He’s been waiting at R.A.D.’s entrance for 20 minutes now. You were supposed to meet him so you could head to Hell’s Kitchen and hang out for a bit, but there’s still no sign of you and you haven’t read any of his texts. ➛ He gets a text from you then. Turns out your phone was on silent, because you felt a little burnt out from school and juggling hangout times with everyone else and went straight back to the House, wanting some quiet time. ➛ You send another message apologizing for the sudden change of plans and for not seeing his messages sooner, but Beel is pretty understanding. ➛ He isn’t letting his chance at being with you go that easily, though. He drops by a store to get you a little care package (and a handful of snacks so he still has something to give you by the time he gets to the house) and heads home. ➛ A few moments later, your door opens to reveal Beel. He leaves the food he brought on your table and sits down on the edge of your bed. You decide a cuddle buddy doesn’t sound too bad right now. After all, you already had the experience of sharing a room with Beel, surely sharing a bed will be similar? ➛ ... Not exactly. He’ll unintentionally take up half your bed no matter what you two do; you’ll either be searching for space or be pulled into the space he’s occupying like some sort of demon-shaped black hole. ➛ The solution: lay on his chest. He assures you that you aren’t too heavy for him, and if he’s being honest? Your weight is actually kinda comforting. ➛ You stay like that for a while, listening to his breathing and heartbeat, and eventually the stress of the past few days melts away, and you fall asleep with your arms draped over him like a pillow. ➛ He doesn’t mind, since you’re pretty much a living teddy bear to him, and he lets himself relax, a hand resting on your back. He just hopes his stomach won’t wake you both up...

Belphegor ➛ Let me get this straight. You want Belphegor, the literal Avatar of Sloth, to take a nap with you? Chances are he’s already half-asleep and all that’s left to do is join him... if he lets you. ➛ He’ll look at you, slightly irritated, but he’s too tired to argue, and you’d be warmer than a pillow, at least, so he motions for you to get in next to him. Just don’t move around too much or he’ll hog all the blankets in retaliation. ➛ If you’re close enough with him, either one of you has unspoken permission to join the other while they’re resting, no questions asked.  ➛ Probably has a bunch of pillows and blankets stowed away in various parts of the House, so nap supplies are readily available. Saves him from having to drag his stuff from place to place. ➛ The one downside to sleeping with Belphie is that he doesn’t need any time to unwind. He can go from full attention to catching Zs in minutes, leaving you no choice but to follow him into dreamland. ➛ He does cuddle a lot, though he’ll brush it off as using you as his personal heater. He’ll complain if you try to do it first, but he won’t make any moves to actually stop you. He actually might lean into you, making up an excuse about your side being comfier. ➛ If he really, really trusts you, he’ll lend you his beloved cow-print pillow. Only five minutes tops, though, then you have to give it back. ➛  When nights are bad and he doesn’t want to wake Beel up, he used to head to the planetarium to calm himself down. Now he slips into your room and takes comfort in knowing that you’re still safe and sound. You’ve woken up several times finding Belphie nuzzled into your blanket. ➛ If he feels especially clingy, his demon form’s tail will appear, slowly but firmly wrapping itself around your waist. Good luck getting out of bed without him knowing.

[pure-kirarin]

Forbidden fruit - Doflamingo x f!reader (nsfw)

Summary : You fell for the trap, caught like a butterfly in a spider web, his spider web. You, a new counselor at impel down, met with the ex warlord Donquixote Doflamingo for a counseling session. However, he had other plans in mind... TW: smut, manipulation, unprotected sex. 

A/N : Heyo !! I am finally coming back with a DOFFY X READER smut this time. Actually it’s my first *blushes* and...honestly this is so..sinful...please don’t judge hahah. Buuut...any feedback is welcome and I had LOTS OF FUN writing this, so enjoy <3 

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Why was the taste of forbidden fruit so tantalizing ? Why did the mere thought of him make you shiver and yearn for his touch ? What was with the tone of his voice and with his flesh thirsty lips that just drove you insane ? You cursed yourself for the time you set a foot in that place. If only you didn't wake up that day...It all started a month ago when you got a new job in the great prison also known as « Impel Down ». You were surprised at first when you heard from some of your sources that the prison  was recruiting a counselor for its prisonners. You were even more surprised when you heard that your candidature was taken. In fact, you have just got your diploma and you only worked in some local hospitals for a few months. It didn't even occur to you that no sane person would want to deal with the criminals of Impel Down. You were an idealistic and optimistic girl that had a strong faith in humanity. You were empathic and devoted to make these people's lives a little better. You didn't care what anyone did, who were you to judge after all ? At this point, you have never dealt with criminals and it showed, your innocence was going to get the best out of you.

A few days in, you learned that your presence was needed for a program set up by the world government to incorporate the less dangerous inmates in society later on and to help the most dangerous ones collaborate.

In just a few weeks you did an amazing job with the level one inmates. You became trusted and loved. These men were thrilled to see what they called « fresh meat », however, they didn't lay a hand on you as you were given a bracelet that called the gards whenever you felt in danger and also because you only accepted to meet up in your own office. Weirdly enough, you felt like you were making a change, it was a selfish feeling, the feeling of a girl that needed to prove to herself that she was needed. You started bringing the newspaper to some inmates that wanted it and even sneaking in some of their favourite food. You never felt endangered by these men. You started to gain confidence in your skills and in yourself. You were playing once again the rôle of the nurse, as if you were responsible for other people's mis-steps.

After a month of that rather fulfilling daily routine, you discovered on your planning that you were meeting for the first time an inmate from level six. It was a name that you knew well...Donquixote Doflamingo, the famous former warlord of the sea. No inmate from level six has ever wanted to take part of the program, so you were puzzled. You felt a bit scared just like your first day there, but then, you gained confidence when you remembered your good experience till now.

That day, you were convoked to Hannyabal -the chief warden's- office. He was a weird and disgusting looking man. He was also extremely gullible and easy to seduce. You knew it too well since that's how you convinced him to have no guards with you when you were working. You wanted to make the inmates feel comortable enough to trust you and talk with you after all. You stepped into Hannyabal's office, It was cold and gloomy, he asked you to take a seat  :

-Good morning Mrs. Y/N. You are looking good today.

-Good morning Sir. Thank you sir. You say, uncomfortable.

-So today you are meeting with an inmate from level six, Donquixote Doflamingo, he is extremely dangerous. Don't hesitate to use your bracelet if you feel in danger I will come to save you-- I mean, everyone will be right there to assist you ! This whole counseling thing is a formality, so please don't feel pressured or anything. The world government obliges us to offer counseling for inmates that ask for it...However, no one from level six has ever asked. If you'd like, If you're ready I will escort you to Doflamingo's cell.

-Thank you Sir. I would like that. You get up from the chair and take a folder with the ex warlord's information from the chief warden's insistant hands.

You both got going till you reach the elevator. You suddenly felt a bit stressed but you try not to show it. Level six was humid and extremely cold. Your legs were shivering a bit under your skirt. The blue atmosphere, lighted by the faint flame coming from the lantern, made you feel extremely uncomfortable.

- Doflamingo is staying in a solitary cell. He slits the key in the key hole opening a first door. A unique cell was there, at the back of the corridor in total darkness. I will come look for you after two hours. Are you sure that you don't want assistance ? I mean, it's true that he is chained in sea stones and can't do anything but still....

-Don't worry about me sir. I have some experience now Sir. Also, I have the bracelet with me. However....Could I ask for a little favor ? You said, getting closer to him.

-Y-yes of course ! He answers with heart-shaped eyes.

-You won't need to come get me later...I will do it myself...I just need those keys...your voice was sensual and soft.

-B-but...Mrs (Y/N)...

-I will be alright please...

-Alright...alright...He gives you the keys and the lantern. But don't tell anyone and give them back to me once you are done...Are we clear ?

-Thanks a lot ! You say with a bright smile, leaving a kiss on his cheek. You really are the best.

The chief warden leaves you after that, heart still pounding from your burning kiss. You have a little victorious smile then get close to the cell. Only the sound of your heels slamming against the stone floor was heard. As you get closer, you start hearing the slamming of chains. You bring the lantern closer to the cell and slit the key in before getting in and closing it behind you. You discover what you have guessed to be Donquixote Doflamingo. He was chained on the floor with a crazy smile on his face and curved sunglasses that prevented you from catching his sight. The cell was medium sized, there was also a little table and two chairs, which was probably a new addition just for your consultation. The man's face turns towards you, at his sight, you felt an incredible energy that made you take a step back. But you tried to bring yourself back to your senses. You had to assert yourself and your position. You weren't here to be scared but to help.

-So, it's Mr. Donquixote Doflamingo if I am right. You get close from the little table and put the lantern and the files on it. Then, you get closer to him, and you bend over to be at his height. I am Mrs. (Y/N). I will be your counselor for today following your request. I will unchain you but keep your handcuffs on...I would like to have a talk with you as we are sitting right there.

Even the worst criminals needed dignity, you thought. You were here to help your clients, and you were ready to treat everyone as human beings. You didn't feel comfortable speaking to a chained man on the ground. Once you unchain him, he gets up. He was extremely tall, even more than you have expected. He must have been around three meters tall and next to him, you looked like a little mouse, fragile and harmless. You didn't want to make him see through your intimidation, so stepped back and held your arm up ;

- This bracelet, if I press this button, the guards will come and an alarm system will be set off. So let's have a nice session and cooperate, Mr. .

His smile was crazy, No, no normal man would smile that way. You then heard his laugh, a throaty and menacing laugh. He looked at you with the look that you have never encountered in the eyes of any other inmate. You could feel it through his sunglasses, and that's when you realized that he wasn't just another inmate.

-Oh, drop the threats already, Miss (Y/N)...Let's have a nice session....

He just repeated what you said but out of his lips, it was so indecent that it made you blush, realizing the sloppiness of your phrasing. You cleared your throat and took a seat, then made a gesture with your hand pointing towards the other seat.

-Please take a seat. Make yourself comfortable Mr. Donquixote. You say, ironically feeling extremely uncomfortable. You took advantage of the few seconds of silence to  examine his appearance discreetely. He looked a little different from the newspapers pictures. In person and without his usual eccentric attire, he looked more menacing. You didn't notice that you held your breath as he took a seat in front of you. His face was partially illuminated by the lantern. His tan skin looked like that of an oil panting under the dancing flame. Don't lose your calm. Don't get destabilized by that aura of him, you repeated in your head endlessly.

A pen was resting between your thumb and your index. You pretended to look at the files for a moment. Then, his voice came, low and intense.

-Oh...I will get comfortable. My. If I knew that you were this beautiful I would've asked to see you earlier. He says with a smirk, looking at your clevage without even a trace of embarrasment.

You gasped, surprised, it wasn't the first time that an inmate complimented you, in fact, it was common. Imagine a place full of men without even a woman in sight. Some of these men haven't seen a woman in more than ten years, they looked at you like caged beasts, but his look was different, he had a strong energy that made you feel naked. You were quick to put him back in what you thought was his place.

-Mr. Donquixote. That is inappropriate. Let's start the consultation right now.

-I do like the sound of Mr. Donquixote...But you can call me Doffy. Make yourself comfortable.

He says with an enigmatic smile, and you weren't sure what was his motive, but as naive as you were, you  kind of believed that maybe after staying so long alone, he wanted some kind of company, or to feel like someone he knew was there...After all, there weren't visits allowed in Impel Down unlike any other prison.

-So..Mr. Donquixote, you repeat, ignoring his request and turning the pages, looking at his info, you were incarcerated for opposing the world government, underworld illegal activities, allying with one of the yonkos and overthrowing a legitimate king and stealing his throne, am I right ?

He looks, amused, at your shaky hand, you were almost endearing to him, he almost wanted to take a bite. He corrects you then, smiling as always, looking at you and leaving you harmless as you couldn't look at him back, his eyes hidden behind the shaded glasses ;

-Oh I see that you reviewed your lessons pretty well. You just have something wrong right there. I didn't overthrow a legitimate king. I am the legitimate king of Dressrosa. I also orchestered the mass murder of my subjects by controlling them, just like this. He holds his hand up, amused, looking right in your fear-colored eyes. He suddenly gets close to your face, almost jumping towards you and you couldn't stop a little shriek of fear from crossing your lips. He then starts laughing, his laugh echoeing in the small cell.

-God, look at you, poor little lamb, are you already scared ? I'm just teasing you right there...There is nothing to be scared of...

He was getting close, too close for your own wellbeing. You weren't able to hide your turmoil anymore. He leans back again on the chair and looks at you, you were quite the entertainment. He surprisingly found you to his taste and he didn't even try to hide it. He was going to get his way anyways, but it was a nice bonus that you were of a delectable beauty. Looking at your lips, he licks his own, disarming you yet once again. You try to asses your now diminishing control and clear up your throat.

-Mr...Let's start shall we !! Well, why did you ask to see me ?

Alright, that was extremely stupid, but it was as if you almost forgot how to use words in his presence. You bite your lower lips, you felt so uneasy but you didn't want to be so transparent under his hungry gaze. You really did feel like a lamb and he was the starved wolf, you felt as if you were his prey right there.

-Do I need a reason to ask to see my counselor ?

-Oh..No you don't I was just...curious...

And here you are, acting totally unprofessional in his presence. You should assert yourself, you are the one asking the questions, you are the one in charge, even if that man is more than one meter taller. Your start twitching your leg as you keep writing something on your paper, it was a quirk that you had everytime when you felt stressed. The smallest of details caught his eye, as they say, the devil was in the details. He liked destabilizing you and he was surprised at how easy it was. He wondered how did you make it up to one month in this place full of dangerous criminals.

Your job as a counselor consisted at first of understanding the motives behind your client's actions and to create a trusting relationship in order to help integrate them later on. You didn't lose any further time and asked :

-So, tell me about your family. It was a basic question to get him to open up. Generally, relationships with relatives and family were meaningful for understanding the mind of a criminal.

-My family ? He laughs, so that's what you want to chat about, beauty ? You flinch at the sound of this word out of his lips. Alright. I will satisfy your curiousity. I killed both my father and my brother. I am sorry to disappoint you Miss (Y/L/N), if you are looking for a sad  story to feel empathy over, this isn't one. Everything I have done I did out of my own will.

He gets closer to your face, once again, and you feel paralyzed, as if you were just a puppet and he was pulling the strings. He have commited the worst thing a human can commit, parricide, and for a second your eyes looked at his restrained hands and you wondered how could a human's hands do such a thing. He had long and slender fingers, he had the hands of an artist, was that what the hands of a murderer looked like ?

-Oh sorry miss, did I scare you ? I was just playing a little bit, no need to feel so tense.

His voice was suave, dripping with poison. He was having his fun, you thought. He was pushing your buttons and enjoying every second of it. He was toying with your mind, knowing how little experience you had. He was reading in you because he wasn't one of these other patients you had dealt with, he showed you how tough you had to become in order to handle the tension from such manipulative creatures, monsters that would kill mother and father to get what they want.

-Mr Donquixote. I am trying to do my job right here, this isn't a game. Shaky voice, fake toughness.

But if you were aware of such things, where did that thrill come from ? Why did you see him as a man and not as a demon, despite his evil laugh and impredictable behavior ? Was it the demenaour of a charismatic male that was a warlord and a king just a few months ago that had that effect of you ? Or was it the same kind of irrational and stupid attraction that a middle schooler feels for bad boys ? But you weren't in middle school anymore and he was a criminal. You weren't the protagonist of some popular soap opera. You were a counselor and he was a man whose hands have killed more men than you could've imagined.

-Look at yourself trying to act tough and to impress me....Drop these little games already, we both know that it's useless... Miss (Y/N)...I didn't just want to talk to my counselor...I think that you would've guessed it by now...? You're a smart girl after all...

He says in a voluptuous whisper, and you forgot how to breathe for a second. No word crossed your lips,  you froze, skin cold while his breath was so hot on your flesh. What was wrong with you, getting flustered by his tricks ? You couldn't get caught in his spider web, you couldn't let him lead the session and act as he wanted. But...Why was everything he said so sensual ? Why did the way he talk make you feel helpless, make you feel like you wanted to see what is coming next ? You were flirting with fire, some morbid curiousity made you keep your mouth shut, waiting for the gratification of his next words just to push him away afterwards.

He leans in and licks your neck, from the starting of your clevage to that area behind your ear. You shiver, feeling his hot tongue on your skin and his steady breathing on your cheek. Your body that was so cold starts tingling, was it fear or anticipation ? He was a dangerous criminal and Hannyabal has warned you more than once. What were you waiting for to press the button on your bracelet ? Were you too scared to do it, or perhaps, did you want a taste of what's forbidden ?

-It's alright to indulge from time to time sweetheart...Come on...I see that you're dying for it.

You try to push him away, putting your tiny hands on his broad chest, blushing from his insinuations. It was unaccaptable, assuming that YOU were dying for it when HE was the one making these filthy advances. Your ego couldn't take it, and the thrill that was once there vanished as you threatened ;

-Are you out of your mind Mr ?! What you are saying is unacceptable ! If anyone ever found out about this you will-

-No one would. He cuts you right there. You made a huge mistake my dear. I will tell you what it is right now....You should never play with fire if you don't want to get consumed by it...

He places his cuffed hand on your throat, applying just a bit of pressure on it. Those hands that he used to...they were on your skin. The tension in your body released as you looked at him as if he had hypnotized you. His touch was extremely warm and you were curious for such a man. You were curious about how a man like him could love a woman. You wondered for a second about how such a man treats his lovers, and if the hands that killed were capable of taking someone to heaven. You didn't realize that you were slowly falling like a ripe fruit in the palm of his hand.

-I will press the button...

-You won't. His voice was firm, almost like an order. The pressure from his hand releases and his hand lays now on your cheek, caressing it softly. You didn't move, you didn't press the button. You felt a knot in your stomach, your cheeks extremely hot and your heart throbbing. You were ready to give years and years of life just to see what was going to happen. Before you even realized, you already hankered for that throbbing.

He placed his hand on your collarbone and it was slowly slipping, deliciously moving towards the fraction of your exposed chest, making you shiver. You felt terrified by the carnal desire that took over you, pure instinct. You felt frightened by your lusting over that forbidden fruit ; a complete stranger, a patient, a monster. He was thrilled by the look on your eyes, only encouraging him to go on. His hand now explored your bare chest under your shirt, making your breath heavier. It was the point of no return. You left your head roll back a little, letting out of a whisper of ease. He brushed and pinched your hard nipples, pushing your buttons, making you want him more and more. You bite your lower lip and murmur softly ;

-We really shouldn't be doing this...

-Do you want me to stop ? He said as he took off your shirt.

You cursed him for letting you have that choice, but he knew all too well that you were already dancing in the palm of his hand. You weren't able to say anything. He lifted you up easily and put you seated on the table. Your were startled by his move, scared and thrilled about what's going to happen. He softly caresses your neck, kissing it softly, whispering into your ear ;

-Say it and I will stop...He repeats.

Shit..Shit...shit ! I am not going to give in...no ? I am not going to give in to him, he is a criminal...I worked hard to get this job...I will lose my job...I won't give in to him...Will I ?...Your eyes were veiled by lust, he was dragging you in as if he was pulling you towards him by invisible threads. You were charmed and intimidated, he has such a sexual presence, you felt it through all your body and especially down there. You mumbled, your voice shaking, feeling ashamed but tempted ;

-Don't...your voice was a bearly audible whisper, to which he smiled, victorious.

-See ? It's not that hard....What a good girl you are. Here...I'll give you what you deserve...

His praising made you blush. You were yearning for his validation and affection. You moan softly when he slides his hand under your skirt, caressing your inner thigh. He squeezes your warm skin, getting closer to your slit.

He lays a finger on your dampening panties, feeling your depths over the fabric. You couldn't help but bite your lower lip, shameful.

-I haven't touched you and you're already so worked up doll ? He smiles in that detached way of his. I am very flattered.

-Please...touch me already. You look away, unable to face him.

He chuckled at your desperate words and one second after your skirt was down and your legs up on the table. Quite the sight. He licked his lips seductively before caressing your slit slowly over the fabric.

-What an impatient girl you are...It's almost cute.

He slides the fabric away now gently pressing on your entrance. His fingers were experienced and precise, he knew where exactly to touch you. He started caressing your clitoris in circular motions snatching moans out of your lips. You swallowed hardly, you weren't holding back anymore, fuck it. You already gave in to his touch. He continued to stroke you while his other hand gently squeezed your breast. You didn't understand how such hands could bring pleasure and also bring mourn. You whined, unable to wait more, wanting him to touch you more, to love you more. He slit a finger inside of you, effortlessly and you whined and squirmed under his touch.

-You are so wet that I feel like you're swallowing me...Such a horny slut.

Your blushed violently as he started thrusting his finger in and out of you in slow motions, driving you insane, leaving you yearning for more. Your hips were shaking with every thrust, he then suddenly added a second finger, carefully preparing you for his lenght.

-Oh....my...are you sad because I called you a slut ? He brushes your hair softly, but then why is there such a hungry look in your eyes ? You certainly enjoyed it, don't try to hide it...The eyes say it all.

-Doffy..

You tightened around his fingers, feeling the pleasure coming in waves, taking over you. Your legs were so weak and you wanted to close them already to make the motion stop as his increasing paace was getting overwhelming. He stopped you from that, forcing you to take in the pleasure that you were asking for. All logic and reason was away, your head was so clouded to even think about the danger that you were putting yourself through. As you were close to climax, he took off his fingers, leaving you puzzled.

- I...

-Do you think that you deserve it ? No I don't think that you do..not yet...

He smirked, getting closer to your face then captured your lips in a passionate kiss. You were  taken aback as you kissed him back, hungry for more. You gathered your courage and slid your hands under his shirt, exploring his manly torso. You then lifted his shirt slightly, inviting him to take it off so you could feel his skin against yours. You just wanted to see all of him. If it was going to be a one time thing then, you wanted all of it...

Noticing this movement, he pulled back and took off his shirt, revealing perfectly sculpted abs. You were amazed by how good he looked despite being in prison. He was flattered by the eager look in your eyes and without giving you time to rest he started licking and sucking on your soft bud. You didn't expect him to do that but you couldn't say that you weren't waiting for it from the start.  He sure knew how to pleasure a woman as his tongue made you quiever. His movement were once again slow, it was some kind of soft torture and you wanted more of him. Your nails digged into his shoulders, trying to contain your sloppy moans. His hands were holding your legs spread out quite firmly so you don't move. He then proceeded to slide two digits into you in conjunction to his tongue circling your clit. At this point, you were moaning so loudly that you got scared that anyone would heard the two of you. You almost fell backwars rom how much you were trembling and Doflamingo gently held you with his strong arm ;

-Careful honey, we're just getting started...

-P..please

-Please what ? He says with a smirk, teasingly tweaking your nipple before giving it a lick, reinserting his fingers inside of you.

-Hmm...Please..I want...I want you to..put it in...

-Shh...he whispers.

You felt shameless and humiliated but you felt no need to hold back as you were already playing with fire. You looked at the bulge forming through his pants and judging from the size you started to wonder wether you could take it in or not. You have never seen anyone bigger. He inserted a third finger, preparing you carefully for his lenght. He then took off his pants giving you a glimpse of his massive cock.  He laughs at your shocked look and pushes down his fingers in your mouth, which you instinctively start licking tasting your own wetness. You were panting in anticipation, your chest going up and down, heavy breathing.

-Don't be scared...It will fit in just fine..He says as he presses just the tip on your entrance. You slightly moved to slide it in but he kept you forcefully in place with his free arm.

-Who told you to move already, (Y/N) ?...

The sound of your name out of his lips made you want crave for him even more. He continued teasing you by sliding it in just a bit, making you expect it to go in then stopping. This sweet torture was making you lose all control but he seemed calm and in perfect control.

-Please...Please Doffy..I'd do anything I..I just...I want you

He looked to the side, unable to contain a little smile, an endearing smile. He puts his hand on your cheek with his thumb on your lips and can't help but say ;

-You are so cute. So desperate for me to fuck you, huh ? You would do anything...What a shameless girl...Wanting me to fuck you so badly while you were acting so tough earlier...He gently starts to push his cock inside, earning a moan from your sweet lips, Alright, I'll give it to you...

He suddenly thrusts it inside of you, making you let out a soft cry of surprise but also that of discomfort because of his size. It didn't take you long to accomodate to his size since he prepared you so well. You finally felt relieved and complete, having him fill you so perfectly. You encercled his shoulders with your arms, finding support on him. His thrusts were getting more and more intense and deep, hitting that spot that made you feel so good. You couldn't help but moan in his ears, showing him how much you felt good, engraving each sensation into your brain so you never forget about him. It was hard to believe that it was the same controlled man that was going in so slowly only minutes earlier. His pace was aggressive and unpredictible. You felt overwhelmed by pleasure, sinking your nails once again in his tan skin.

-Oh...god...

-You're taking me so well...You are getting so tight around me.

He groans and holds your hair back tightly, forcing you to look at his face ;

-Look at me while I am fucking you

Your heart was pounding so fast as you felt him go in and out. Your moans were getting louder to the point that you were biting your lower lip quite hard in a failed attempt to contain yourself. As you were getting closer to climaxing, he just stopped all movement and completely slid out of you, leaving you empty. You looked at him with huge eyes as he sit back on the chair, his erection dripping with precum.

-If you want it so badly then come get it, dear.

Without any hesitation, you stepped on your feet, almost falling, legs shaking in front of him. You then sit on his lenght taking him in entierly, making him smirk and groan. You felt hesitant to move at first, ashamed of that slutty side of you that no one before him, a stranger, a criminal, has ever seen. And maybe it's only because you knew who he was that you were able to be so decadent. You started moving your hips slowly, feeling him against your walls, nipples brushing against his strong torso. He caressed your hair, almost lovingly and grunts ;

-You're a good girl...Fucking yourself like this-

He then suddenly lifts you up while still inside of you.

-But you're going too slow, I'll fuck you good, because that's what you deserve...

He then holds you against the table once again, his pace much more intense than yours. You held onto the table really tightly letting a cry of surprise and pleasure. He spread your legs wider filling you with every inch of his warm cock. It was a feeling you have never felt before with any man, the feeling of being with someone who knew how to pleasure you, someone that could break you with a snap of his fingers but who decided to take you to heaven instead. At this point, you only wanted him to free you from that longing in your loins.

-I..I am going to...

You couldn't even finish your sentence. He was going deeper inside of you with each thrust. Now, his hand was around your neck. He was losing control as well as you swallowed him inside.He was also getting close to the paroxysm of pleasure.

-Come for me, sweetheart.

You got overwhelmed by his pace and you finally could let it all out, you felt your insides twitch and pulse with every thrust. You held him tighter, letting out high-pitched moans, feeling your legs tremble as you came around his cock. Your whole body was spasming and your breath louder but that didn't stop him from pounding you even harder. For a moment you felt as if you were going to pass out but you managed to say nonetheless;

-I..I..Please..Come inside...

Were you out of your mind or did he really unleash that dark side of you ? Maybe a bit of both, but you knew that you wanted him to fill you up. He was surprised himself, but your words turned him on even more. He then let out a loud groan as he filled you with his seed in a last thrust.

-You're naughtier than what I expected...

He caresses your cheek and slides out of you, some of his essence dripping out all along your thighs. You felt so satisfied and out of breath, letting yourself fall back on the table. He looked at you with a smirk .

-You did so well...Now I will take this...

He pulls his pants up and bends down to where your bag was. He flips it over and its contenants spill on the ground. He takes the key of the cell and hold it up while looking at you ;

-I'm gonna take this now as my payback...Thanks doll..

You were too tired to even move, thinking that you were fucked, unironically. You have succombed, you have lost, but why didn't you even feel even a slight shadow of guilt ? You looked at him turn his back to you, walking all along the hallway. The only thing that you were able to think of was wether you were going to see him again. He has just unleashed the beast inside. -------------------- Thank you for reading <3 Leave feedback if you liked it hihi