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simpsiren · 4 years ago

Text

lee taeyong x reader

description. I liked Lee Taeyong. A lot. And with every book I gave him, whatever purposes, I hid a love letter in between its pages. After all this time, I still wonder if Taeyong has yet to read even one of them.

Tsundoku— buying books and not reading them; letting books pile up unread on shelves, floors, or nightstands.

genre. fluff, angst, love letters!au, friends to lovers!au, one-sided love! au, bartender!taeyong, university student!reader

word count. 12.4k~

warnings. none!

a/n. was randomly scrolling through printerest when i found this word and suddenly this idea popped up in my headd. i had to change the meaning of the word so tha itll fit the story line better but the overall meaning is the same sooo. anyways that’s all i got for you now please enjoyy!

Books. An interest both Taeyong and I shared since college. Though our interest laid in the same object, our uses for it were far from the same. For me, it’s for reading. Like how it should be used, its main purpose. Like any other bookworm, constantly having my head shoved in romance or fantasy novels. Taeyong on the other hand, he... he uses it as decoration. Something that to him, should be kept on shelves, unread for display purposes.

I got to find out quite quickly that it was a habit for him to collect books that had nice spines just so he could place them on his shelves. I’ve been to his home once. One entire wall was just shelves filled with books. It was aesthetically pleasing indeed, but it disappointed me that he didn’t even bother to read a single one. So we made an agreement that I’d read his books. If he were to buy a new one, he’d let me read it first before tucking it away to never be pulled out again. I guess that’s why my friendship with him worked so well.

Taeyong decided to work as a bartender after college while I, went to pursue my studies with university. Should say that I regretted that on-impulse decision of mine nowadays.

It’s Friday. I just got out of university, at one in the morning. What an ungodly hour, considering that my classes started at nine this morning. I agreed to meet Taeyong at his bar. Luckily for me, the distance between school and the bar wasn’t far. Taeyong took me as a factor into consideration while trying out jobs around the school’s area, just so he’d get to meet me more often. That, was one of the million reasons why I fell for him.

I dragged my feet across the side walk, the screeching of my boots scraping against the rough surface. As much as I tried to hold up my posture during my long trip there (it felt like I’ve been walking forever when really, it has only been ten minutes), my back slowly slouched with each step till I was fully slouching. The extremely poor and back paining kind. Can’t blame me. University is mentally draining, but physically as well, having to walk to different classes constantly that’s being situated on opposite ends of the facility. It’s a workout.

I looked up to take a breather, seeing the glowing sign above the bar. I gazed down, to the glass windows, noticing how there was a lot of people in there. Well, it’s a Friday night afterall. I placed my free hand onto the door’s handle, pushing it open and entering.

Classical music played in the background. People’s murmurs could be heard as they had their own conversations. The place was dimly lit with an orange hue; a calming atmosphere. I went right up to the bar, getting on an empty cushioned stool and adjusting my butt onto it. I looked around the area. Taeyong wasn’t to be seen. I only assumed that he was making drinks.

I took out my book from my tote bag, flipping to the page where I folded it’s edge to continue where I left off. I was already two third done with it. And I was determined to finish it by Monday just so that I could get a new book to read.

My head was faced down, eyes scanning each sentence as I blocked out the entire world, putting myself in my own little bubble as I imagined myself in the story’s plot, too immersed to give a single care for my surroundings.

Suddenly, a hand appeared beside me, tapping its knuckles against the wood to get my attention. I lifted my eyes up, seeing Taeyong standing in front of me. White button up shirt, three buttons unhooked, revealing the slightest bit of his collarbones in a way to tease you and having the urge to see them fully. Black dress pants with a belt that cinched on his waist, framing his lower body beautifully.

“Literally called you from two steps away and you didn’t hear any of it.” Taeyong leaned against the counter, elbows supporting him as his face got close to mine. “I was busy.” I said, lifting up my book slightly. “You done with that? I need to put a new book on the shelve soon. It bugs me that there’s an empty spot.” Taeyong shivered as he mentioned that, making me chuckle softly.

“By Monday, I promise.”

“Need anything to drink? You look worn out.” Taeyong eyed me up and down. I probably looked terrible since Taeyong scrunched up his nose and shook his head. “You know I don’t drink. I mean I can, but it’s still the school term. I can’t afford getting off track by anything.”

Taeyong breathed a short laugh in response. “Ah of course. Didn’t you say you wanted to dropout just yesterday?” Taeyong looked up for a moment before bringing his eyes back down on me with a teasing gaze. My mind went back to yesterday when I texted Taeyong a long ranting paragraph about how stressed I was this week. I frowned. “Should I?”

Taeyong bobbed his shoulder. “It’s up to you. But I sincerely think you should. I mean look at you.” He added a light scoff at the end, his hand going up and down in front of me. “I’m just worried.” He proceeded to shift his weight form one leg to the other, sliding his fingers into the pocket of his pants. I felt his sense of sincerity, invariably imbued. Another reason why I fell for him. He’s always caring, too caring for his own good, especially towards me.

“Will think about it.” I mumbled, taking note of my book’s page number since I was too lazy to fold it before closing and shoving it back into my tote bag. “Anyways, when are you getting off work?”

Taeyong turned around to grab something. I realised it was his wallet and phone as he shoved the wallet into his back pocket and kept his phone in his hand. “Right now.” He flashed his smile. The signature smile. One he has on ninety percent of the time, at least around me. It was unique. A smile that only suited him and not anyone else. He owned it . Like he should. Yet another reason why I fell for him.

I got off the stool as he went around the counter that had the space in between for staffs to pass through. “Want me to drive?” He asked as we made our way to the door. I shook my head. “You had a long day. Just go home.” I kindly rejected. I bowed my head as he opened the door for me. A gentleman; adding onto the long list.

“You had an even longer one. I don’t care. It’s late too. I can’t let you walk home alone.” I laughed weakly, waiting for him outside as he closed the door. As we make our way to Taeyong’s car, he whispered, “Sleep straight when you get home, okay?” He opened the car door for me. I nodded, “Yes father.” I dragged on.

The car ride home was silent. Completely silent. There wasn’t even music playing in the background. I had my eyes fixed on the view out of the window, too scared to look at Taeyong as I can’t bare to look at him long enough before I melt on sight.

My apartment came to view after the many trees and street lights we drove past. The car pulled to a halt and I turned to Taeyong, who was suddenly up close to me, one hand looming over my chest as he reached for the seatbelt. I possibly stopped breathing. His eyes looked into mine, expressionless. I couldn’t even blink I was that shocked. “Sorry. I thought you were sleeping.”

Taeyong pulled back to his seat. I exhaled sharply. I looked to the seatbelt. He didn’t unbuckle it. I huffed quietly and did it myself, sliding my tote bag onto my shoulder. “Remember. Sleep right away.” He advised a second time as I make my way out of the car, slamming the car door shut.

Before I turned around, he rolled down the window, leaning forward slightly. “And my book!” He shouted. I placed two fingers up my head and pointed it back at it as a way to say, “Yes sir.” Before swirling around and walking away, his car’s engine starting up and driving away. The noise was quick to get muffled and go away as he drove further out of the neighborhood.

The hours of studying I had to do at home went by quick. Before I even knew it, I didn’t sleep that night at all. Unfortunately, I didn’t listen to Taeyong. I had assignments to complete by Monday for God’s sake. I’ve come to terms with the fact that the number of times I’ve pulled all-nighters are now inhumane.

I checked the time on my clock. 5:05AM. I sighed, looking across my study table that’s pilled with worksheets and my opened laptop. I nodded my head as I made the mental decision of finally cleaning up as I rechecked to see if I’ve left any work undone before beginning to stack the papers and shoving them into my tote bag. The only thing left on the table was a stack of decorative papers, with beautiful outlines of red roses around the edges.

I slid one paper off the stack, placing it in front of me. I grabbed a random pen from my organiser, clicking it as I swirled it around, trying to figure out what to write.

Hey taeyong. This is my 127th love letter, confession letter, whatever you would call it. I’m not sure if you’ve read any of them. My last note was in ‘It Ends with Us’. I find that you aren’t giving any reaction or anything. I know you don’t read the books but do you even bother flipping through its pages for the letter to fall out? I’m still hoping you’d at least open this one. Please. I’ve been waiting for ages. For you. I like you, Lee Taeyong, for the 127th time.

I placed my pen back to where it belonged before holding the note in my hand, lifting it up to my face. I bit my bottom lip before opening my book, randomly opening a page and placing the note in, making sure it’s secured before putting that into my tote bag as well. Too lazy to even get into my bed, I fell asleep uncomfortably at the table.

It was now Sunday. I almost forgot the fact that I’m meeting Taeyong today to pass him the book, which to be honest, I didn’t finish. The book was boring. It was like those books that you force yourself through so you wouldn’t feel the regret of buying it. Though I used Taeyong’s money, I still felt bad for leaving it unread. I wasn’t like Taeyong at least.

While thumbing through my closet to find something to wear after showering, my eyes stopped at the sweater that Taeyong borrowed me not too long ago because I was dumb enough to meet him at two in the morning without a jacket. I was frozen stiff due to the cold.

Absentmindedly, I took it off its hanger and brought it close to my chest, dipping my head down as I deeply inhaled, Taeyong’s scent was still on there. I put it on and continued getting ready.

Just when I was done placing my valuables in my sling bag, the doorbell rang. Thinking it was the mailman, I rushed to the door with immense speed. I opened the door forcefully. But instead of the mailman, I was met with Taeyong standing in front of me. We locked eyes for a split second, which made my heart leap. I then eyed him up and down. He was wearing his usual all black outfit. Shirt, jeans, and boots. I liked how the plain and simple outfit was able to cup his body well, accentuate all his body features. It always made me swoon for him.

“What are you doing here?” I noticed how Taeyong kept eyeing his sweater that’s on me despite his attempts at trying to remain eye contact with me. “I thought of just letting you give me the book now and spend the day here. Can I?” No wonder he wore a regular outfit.

“So I dressed up for nothing?” I feigned my exasperation, folding my arms as I cocked an eyebrow, huffing ever so softly. Taeyong followed my poster one on one. “And wearing my sweater is called dressing up? How lovely.” It was now his turn to fire back, which made me frown. “Whatever.” I gave in, turning around to head back to my room.

I heard the door closing as Taeyong’s footsteps were quick to follow closely behind, maybe due to the large steps he took with his long legs. As I entered my room, Taeyong lets out a hum of satisfaction. “Your shelve’s looking good. More full than last time.” He complimented. I took a seat at the study table as he made his way to seat at the edge of my bed. “Mhm.” I softly answered.

With the remembrance of what he came here for, I grabbed my tote bag and fished out for the book. I then toss it onto the bed beside Taeyong, not speaking a word as I jerked my head to it. “Thanks. You read fast.” Taeyong held the book in his hand. Open it, open it. Oh God why can’t he just find the damn note I placed there?

“No I don’t. It’s just that the book was extremely boring for my liking.” I stated, matter-of-factly. Taeyong examined the book, quickly turning it over to read the synopsis. “Ew.” He mumbled.

“It was only good at first. The ending sucked.” I added on to my complains. “By the way...” Taeyong trailed on. I wonder what he wanted to ask. Was it something about the book? About the notes?

“I’ve been thinking I should read one of the books.” I folded my arms with arrogance, slouching into the chair as I tilted my head, the side of my lip lifted up slightly. “So after more than four years I was able to reel you in to read your first book?” I questioned, sounding smug.

Taeyong let out an annoyed ‘tsk’. “I find ‘If I never met you’ interesting, okay? Let me be.” Taeyong pouted and folded his arms, turning his head away from my direction. I stood up, walking to the bed and plopping myself down which made the two of us bounce up and down of a moment. “It’s cute how you’re a newbie to reading.” I made up an excuse when really what I found cute was how Taeyong acted. It made me blush a bright pink. It was probably extremely noticeable when Taeyong suddenly mentioned, “Did I make you so proud that you’re now blushing?” Taeyong teased, a giggle following after.

“Oh shut up.”

Lee Taeyong. This is the 128th letter. I still remember the first one I wrote. Feeling so hopeful and acting like a little girl that’s too shy to confess up front. I’m still like that. Yet to physically hint at you about my feelings. I can only express them like this, through notes that could all end up being meaningless if you’ve never looked at them. I’ll come by your house today. I’ll probably slide it in between books instead of pages. I long for your love, the kind that’s much more than that of a friend. I’ve been holding on for so long. Perhaps too long. But it’s okay, you’re Lee Taeyong. I won’t let the feelings I’ve bottled up for years go to waste. I’ll do something... soon. Yes, soon.

Later that day, I made my way to Taeyong’s house. I asked him to stay at home so that I could surprise him by coming over. But the reaction that I expected from him was way too predictable.

“You could’ve just told me to pick you up!” Taeyong whined. There he goes again being way too caring. Stop it. It’s hurting me.

“It’s not that troubling to travel, Yong. Calm the heck down! It’s really nothing.” I shouted back, reassurance being imbued into each word. He made way for me to enter. And as I did, I walked slowly, long strides to the living room where the large bookshelf was placed. The one that covered the entire wall. Well, almost, since he made space for the television. Other than that, it was just books surrounding it.

“Wait.” I turned around sharply. I realised that my sudden action made Taeyong stop in his tracks instantly. But he was close to me. Way too close for my own good. We stayed there for a moment, exchanging blank stares while I took the time to remember this moment; my heart stopping, his tall figure looming over me, his eyes looking into mine as if he’s trapping me in his gaze. Moments like these happen often. And I’d often take the time to remember them, shoving them into a mental folder called ‘Head over heels for TY’.

“Sit down. I’ll... get the cheesecake.” Taeyong was the first to back out, taking a step away from me and chuckling awkwardly. He quickly turned away after avoiding my eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. He looked nervous. But why? If I have seen it correctly, it looked like his cheeks were ever so slightly red as well. What even...

I shook my head vigorously, throwing those thoughts out of my mind. I sat down on the brown leather couch, leaning back and allowing my body to sink into it. Somehow, the thoughts crept back in. I thought about how what I observed just now could not have been real. It’s Lee Taeyong. Hundreds of girls are always hitting on him at the bar during his shift. He might even be seeing someone. Wait why am I even saying that to myself? I’d end up feeling jealous with no real reason. Great, you’re a dumb one indeed.

I felt Taeyong’s weight beside me. I looked up from the table, realising now that I was in a trance of my own thoughts, and to the cheesecake that he placed down. He leaned forward to cut a slice, placing it on a small plate as he placed the fork down beside it and handed it to me. “Here. Bought it especially for your brain recovery, and cravings. You’re period came, right?”

My eyes widened. My brows furrowed and got closer to each other as I backed my head away in surprise. “How’d you even know?” I asked shockingly. Taeyong lets out a chuckle, bringing his plate up and taking a bite. “I know you long enough to know that your period’s consistent and is usual around this time. But I was just taking my chances. I know you’d still eat the cheesecake either way.” Taeyong flashed a cheeky smile.

I knew he was extremely considerate towards me. He’d always advise me to take breaks, giving me a shoulder to lean on when I need rest, coming over to comfort me till sunrise whenever I texted him a ‘feel depressed lmao.’ He’s always on standby, ready to assist me when I need him, for whatever reason. Even if he wasn’t there, he was somehow able to choreograph his silent dance of support. But I never knew he was this meticulous to take note of my habits, my favourite food and even my period. He knew everything about me at the back of his hand. He really does make me feel some type of way. Perhaps a feeling far beyond love. An unknown feeling that only I could experience since it’s Taeyong. It’s always him. Always have been, and always will be.

I grabbed a big bite, scooping it in my mouth and moaning out dreamily, letting myself sink into the cheesecake and its flavours like a bath. “Fuck this is good. Where’d you get it?” I questioned with immense curiosity. I was genuinely curious. Because I’d love to get more.

Taeyong raised both his brows, his lips forming a thin line as he gave a slightly awkward or nervous cheeky smile. I couldn’t quite tell. “I made it.” He whispered. “No way!” I instantly take another bite, this time with Taeyong in mind. I mean, he already was from the moment he gave me the plate, but with now knowing that he was the one that made it? It suddenly tasted a thousand times better.

“Fucking bake more! Why haven’t I known that you can bake?!” I screamed with excitement. I finished the first slice, now on my way to tackle a second. Taeyong laughed hilariously at my reaction. “Is it that good? It’s my first time trying the recipe.”

“I know you cook like you’ve cooked for me many times but what the heck you should to do this more often. I’d eat it whole.” I squealed as I savoured the cheesecake’s flavours.

“If it’s for you then I’d gladly do it.”

Once again I felt the kindness and love through his voice and tone that’s ever so sweet and gentle. I’d imagine that this was how angels sounded like. Taeyong has always been able to put me at instant peace with just his words alone. Be it through the phone or in person. I always felt calm and protected.

It amazed me just what love could do to you. Everything they do now seemed perfect and beautiful, you blind yourself with their beauty and everything that’s good in them. In Taeyong’s case, I’ve never seen the bad side of him, shockingly enough. I’ve been friends with him for more than five years yet there wasn’t any argument between us that made a major impact on our relationship, if you don’t count those when I wouldn’t talk to him for only one day but we’d be able to act normal after.

We ended up spending the evening watching Netflix. We’ve been through two movies now. The cheesecake was now fully finished as well, down to its crumbs. “Want me to cook dinner?”

“I’m fine with anything.” I blinked my eyes once and a soft smile appeared on my lips. Taeyong hummed softly and nodded his head as he made his way to the kitchen, the sound of his slippers can be heard as he shuffled away.

I laid down on the couch, using my phone. A thought suddenly popped in my mind. I instantly peeked my head above the back rest, seeing Taeyong’s back in view as his body swayed slowly by the stove. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He ran a hand through his hair. How can a man look this... amazing. I can’t think of any other ways to describe Taeyong at that moment. Boyfriend material? Stunning? Breathtaking? All of the above.

As much as I wanted to stare at his figure, I had another agenda I had to accomplish before getting back to it. I rose from the couch, slowly and quietly, taking the note out of my sling bag. I walked up to the overwhelmingly large bookshelf. I scanned it carefully, trying to figure out where to place it.

“What are you doing?” I turned instantly at Taeyong’s voice. He was a few steps away from me, two plates of pasta in his hands. He turned around to place them on the table.

I took this chance to quickly slide the note into the shelve. One edge of the note was sticking out. Shit. It wasn’t obvious but it’s still there. I didn’t have any time to adjust it when Taeyong faced his body back to me.

“Just looking. The fact that I’ve read all these books... I’m such a bookworm for reading this much.”

“That’s what I like about you.” I was eyeing the pasta when Taeyong blurted that out. It was quick and soft, I couldn’t make out the words. I could only infer. “What?” I asked purposely, just to see if he’ll answer.

“It’s nothing.” Taeyong shoved a spoonful of pasta into his mouth, adverting his gaze on anything else but me.

I thought about how weird he was acting. It’s the first time I’m noticing that Taeyong’s been acting... wary, cautious of his every move around me. Just as I thought about how he’s clueless and delusional about my feelings for him, it could have been the same for me.

Luckily (Thank the Gods kind of lucky), classes ended early today. And Taeyong told me to meet him at his dance studio. For what reason? I wasn’t actually sure. I headed there, passing by the many other practice rooms till I saw the number that Taeyong told me. I opened the door, seeing Taeyong and two other guys I’m unfamiliar with. All of them turned their heads to me in unison, Taeyong blinding me with a bright smile while the others looked to each other with confusion.

“You came!” Taeyong squealed, running up to me and hugging my tightly. He was extremely sweating. I would try to push him away, but he probably wouldn’t let go and let me suffocate. Thankfully, he didn’t and pulled away, grabbing my wrist and dragging me to the other two guys.

“Ten, Mark. This is my friend, _____. I wanted her to come so that we’ll have an audience to show our piece.” Taeyong explained to them freely as he pointed to Ten and Mark respectively, an arm swung around my shoulders. I bowed my head amicably with a smile while they did the same. “You never told me you have a girlfriend, Taeyong.” Ten teased, lightly punching Taeyong’s chest. I couldn’t help but blush a light pink. I swallowed and looked up to him, who had a nervous and shy face on, which I didn’t expect at all.

“We’re best friends, please.” Taeyong denied, no hesitation whatsoever. In my head I wanted to frown but I had to keep a smile on.

“Hey, Ten. Wanna get Starbucks?” Mark suddenly asked, looking at him with a wicked grin as if he’s hinting to Ten about something. Ten was quick to respond, nodding his head with affirmation. “Yeah. I’m thirsty. You should just stay here with her. Need js to get anything?” Ten trailed on while the two of them began to take their wallets out of their bags that were at the back of the practice room.

“You guys are really going all the way to Starbucks that’s a fifteen minute walk from here?” Taeyong asked, extremely shocked. I did walk past Starbucks on my way here, and it is indeed extremely far. What the heck were they trying to do by leaving so abruptly?

“Eh it’s fine. Well we’ll leave you to it! Peace!” And just like that, Ten and Mark have left and it was now just me and Taeyong. The two of us turned to each other and chuckled at the same time. “Come on show me your dance!”

“It’s a duet that I’m doing with Ten. Can’t dance if he’s not here.” I looked up for a moment, thinking. “Dancer by day. Bartender by night. That’s Lee Taeyong.” I spread my hands out with jiggling my fingers as if showing a rainbow and mimicking stars. Taeyong laughed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Broke university student by day, author by night. That’s _____.”

I looked at him weirdly, eyes narrowing at him as I furrowed my brows. “How am I an author?”

“Eh I just assume you’re one since you’re such a bookworm.” Taeyong fakely rolled his eyes but flashed a cheeky smile after. I smiled back and got closed to him, both hand resting on my hips as I rested my weight on one leg. “So what are we gonna do mister dancer?” I asked with the tone of a child, making me laugh after from how ridiculous I sounded.

Taeyong proceeded to take my tote bag off my shoulder, putting it off to the side with the other bags while he grabbed his phone and went to Spotify. “Let’s dance.” He suggested with confidence. He played a song. It’s one of my favourites. A song that didn’t make me think twice to bob my head to, which I instantly did. “I haven’t danced in years and you know that.”

Specifically, it was six years ago. I used to dance in highschool as extra curricular thing. But in college I started to dance less frequently, and my dance friends and I slowly grew distant. But I was okay with it. I mean, it’s life. The world still had to spin no matter the situation.

“Come on I know you have it in you. Just vibe.” Taeyong swayed his shoulders up and down slowly, grooving to the beat as his whole body began to work its magic, his dancing was at the level of professional ones. I never know why he didn’t want to pursue dance as a career and became a bartender instead.

I slowly moved my body in a weird way. Not dancing for years, your body is bound to be uncomfortable and you’d be looking weird as you move. Which was definitely me. Taeyong laughed at me, making me frown and stopped dancing. He huffed with a smile and held both my hands. Instantly, my legs and body moved in sync with his. It felt amazing dancing with Taeyong. It was fun and carefree. I could dance as stupidly as I want and even though Taeyong could pull off the best dance moves, he’d still choose to dance stupidly along with me. He was able to serve himself as a guidance as I found my groove and vibe that I didn’t have in me for a long time.

When the music stopped, Taeyong’s hands where on my waist, while I had mine on his arms. We turned to the mirror and giggled, throwing out heads back happily.

“You still got it.”

“Make sure to find the ones with pretty spines.”

Taeyong and I decided to head to bookstores today for our monthly book shopping. And while I was carefully reading the synopsis of books that had an interesting title, Taeyong was busy examining their cover pages and the aesthetics, mostly the spine.

“Have you started on the book you told me about?” I asked, flipping the book I just took out to its first chapter to get a feel of the writer’s writing style. “I have, actually.” My head shot to him instantly. He’s read the book. But I remembered putting the note in the back pages of the book. Has he reached there yet? “But I’m a slow reader. And busy. I’m only at the third chapter.”

As much as I was surprised about the fact that he’s speed in reading was extremely slower than what I would consider normal, I couldn’t blame him. He’s body with work most of the time and he has a life to live. Not to mention how it’s the first book he’s actually reading. This is a good example that the gap in terms of our reading abilities are definitely big.

“Liking it so far?” I asked. “Yeah.” Taeyong simply replied as he took a book off the display. “I’m getting this. And these as well.” He giggled like a happy child who’s buying a bunch of toys as birthday present from his parents. He lifted the books up slightly, fiddling around and trying to stack them properly while I closed the book that was in my hands. “I’m just buying this.”

“Seriously? Oh wait nevermind you’re a broke university student.” Taeyong taunted, rolling his eyes. My mouth opened slightly, faking my exasperated as I huffed loudly. “Okay mister bartender. You didn’t have to rub-”

“Oh my God. Taeyong?!”

In unison, the two of us turned around to the noise. A girl was running up to us. The moment she came, she didn’t hesitate to hug Taeyong around his torso. Taeyong chuckled, almost awkwardly and hugged her back.

I took a quick look at them. Their hug made a few things clear to me. One, she’s probably known him for a long time. But if she has, why didn’t Taeyong told me about her before? He shares all his secrets, I pretty much know him from A to Z. So why hasn’t he mention her before? Second, Taeyong was quick to reciprocate the hug, from his awkward form to a loving one. They looked like a couple that hasn’t seen each other in ages; a meaningful reunion.

I wasn’t exactly happy with where this was going. I didn’t like how in an instant, she could simply let herself be in such close proximity with him. I’ve never hugged Taeyong for that long at all. It made me feel a couple of things. Jealousy? Judgmental? Sudden hatred towards her? But why should I? It felt so invalid of me to feel these things.

“It’s been years, Taeyong.” She chuckled happily as they pulled apart. Finally. “Who’s she?” Her finger lifted up to me.

“A friend.” Taeyong answered. Of course, Why did I think I’d be any more than that? Just a friend. We’re just friends. Just.

While they were having a chat about who knows what, I wasn’t exactly paying attention since I simply assumed that it was to catch up with each other. I wondered off to another section of the store. After browsing through a few books, it was then I realised that they weren’t no longer in the store anymore when I got back. They left, Taeyong left. Without telling me. It was my fault for leaving the scene discreetly since I felt like my presence wasn’t needed in their bubble at the time, but why did Taeyong not come find me? Was I... simply forgotten?

I went straight home that day after cashing out the books. I didn’t know where Taeyong went after leaving that that girl, but I didn’t want to act like some busybody who asks something that isn’t her business. I got texts from Taeyong asking if I left yet. Was he planning on returning there after leaving for two hours? He actually expected me to wait. Unbelievable.

After that day, my meetups with him became less frequent. He occasionally replied to my texts. More like one sentence after four or so hours. He still updates his socials. And it was all about her. Photos, videos. They were hanging out together more often. For some reason, it felt like she was a replacement; my replacement. I somewhat distanced myself away from Taeyong thinking, “I assume you don’t need me anymore so I’ll stay out of your way.”

But one day, out of pure curiosity, I decided to follow them to a cafe. Taeyong did text me that he’d be heading there, but I left him on seen. Like I said, I’m slowly removing myself out of his picture.

I sat at the corner of the cafe, black jacket, black cap and large black sunglasses. I looked like a stalker in the eyes of strangers. I mean, I was.

I covered myself further by holding up a book to my face. As I continuously stared at them, I grew bored. Don’t get me wrong, I was feeling negative. I didn’t like how she’s teasingly touching Taeyong’s arm, how they laughed happily together and chatting as if they’re in their own little world. But I started to wonder why I even came here. I did want to see what they’re like. But I’m making myself feel more bad this way.

I decided to write a note. I was done with the book I’m currently holding. All I needed to do was give it to Taeyong. With the note. I took out a random piece of paper from my tote bag, fishing out for a pen as well and began to write.

It’s my 145th letter. Fuck how long am I going to do this? Might sound weird, but I’m currently looking at you. Watching you with her. Why does it feel like you’re happier with her? You’re smiling, laughing more. You’re more brighter. I mean you have always been bright. But you just... radiate differently; a new type of glow I never knew you had. I saw your socials, constantly posting about her. I’m jealous, very. I want to be like that with you. But it just feels wrong, perhaps not right. Like I shouldn’t be craving for you. For your touch, your whispers, giggles. Why do I feel like this? The more you spend time with her, the more I realise that my chances of getting you is slowly slipping away from my grasp. But why can’t I move? Why don’t I want to move? I’m not sure what’s stopping me. And that’s what I’m fearing the most.

I felt my cheeks getting wet. It took me awhile to realise that I was balling my eyes out, slowly and painfully. I took off my sunglasses for a moment to wipe off excess tears before putting them back on. I can’t belive I’m crying. I looked down to the note. A tear fell onto it, a spot crinkled as it left a visible mark of my feelings. Just as I was sniffing, constantly having to wipe my cheeks dry since my tears were getting uncontrollable, I looked out the window. And what stood on the opposite side shocked me.

I knocked on the glass, his head turning quickly. He looked around inside the cafe, not sure of where the signal came from. I knocked once again. He looked down on me and I took off my sunglasses, pulling down my hood.

“Nakamoto Yuta?” I mouthed to him, my lips moving widely so he could read them. His eyes blinked rapidly and he leaned in before widening them after realising who I was. We take a few of the same classes. I see him often in school. But we never really talked. He immediately rushed into the cafe, covering his face as if hiding his identity and running up to my table to take a seat.

“Why were you looking in like some stalker?” I asked, pulling my hood back over my head as I lowered myself, my eyes still fixated on Taeyong.

“You look more like one than I do.” Yuta commented. I notice how he was constantly turning around, specifically to Taeyong’s direction. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m looking at them.” He pointed his finger out ever so slightly. And as I predicted, he was referring to Taeyong and the girl. “You know Taeyong?” I immediately asked, extremely curious as to why he was spying on them just like I was. “No, but I know Jiung.” So that’s her name. Pretty name for a pretty girl. Of course.

“And why are you doing that exactly?” Yuta let out a huff, leaning in with his elbows on the table, his shoulder rising up to his ears. “Because I want to see what they’re on about. I keep seeing her with that Taeyong guy. I like Jiung so I’m jealous.” I puckered my lips and nodded. My face showed as if I shrugged it off. But my mind began turning its gears. So he likes Jiung and he’s jealous of them together? He has the same reason of me coming here as well. What forces swirled around the world for us to come together like this? It’s weird how coincidentally the situation was.

“I actually came for the same reason as you. I like Taeyong, and I’m jealous of Jiung.” I frowned slightly, a sigh leaving my lips. I opened up to him quick about my situation since I felt a sense of similarity with him. He probably wouldn’t remember anyways. It’s not like we’ll be crossing paths in the future.

“Were you crying? Your eyes are hella puffy.” He asked suddenly. I breathed out a laugh awkwardly. I gulped and cleared my throat, thinking that I should shove all my feeling down so I wouldn’t look even more ridiculous in front of Yuta. “Yeah.” I quickly slid the note in between a random page.

“Funny how we met here. For the same reasons. It’s like fate.” I couldn’t agree more. “An idea just came to my mind.” Oh no.

Yuta has always been the class clown, saying out his ideas that were completely mind blowing and far fetched. His way of thinking is... unique, in a funny way. I got somewhat nervous after he said that sentence, you can never guess what he’s thinking about or get a clear grasp of the way he thinks.

“How about we try splitting them up?” I didn’t reply, his words slowly resonating in my mind. He can’t be serious, right? But why am I slowly being persuade by an unknown force?

I have yet to say a word, my eyes still on them as I was deep in thought, wondering about all the possible outcomes of me agreeing and disagreeing, weighing them carefully so that I could make the more beneficial decision.

“Come on. You’ll get to be with Taeyong more. And I’ll have Jiung. Win-win situation, right?”

I sighed, inhaling as my chest puffs up.

“Alright.”

Yuta: How’s it going?

Me: amazingg :D

“Who are you texting?” Taeyong asked, I placed my phone down to the side, screen faced down. “No one.”

This is the sixteenth outing with Taeyong after that day. I was able to spend time with Taeyong a lot more, just like before. And probably just like it should. I’ve seen Yuta posting more often on his Instagram stories, mostly of him and Jiung. Our plan of keeping them apart is working. Though Yuta told me that it was Jiung who’s constantly asking to meet up with Taeyong, he was able to force her to hang out with him instead, giving her no chance whatsoever. It was extremely helpful.

I know this whole situation sounds as if I’m being evil or whatever you call it. But why wouldn’t I accept a chance to be closer to Taeyong?

“Should we head to the carnival after this? Or desserts first? Oh I want to head to that new ice cream shop! Ten said it’s delicious but extremely crowded. I don’t mind waiting since I’ll have you to annoy.” Taeyong rambled on. I laughed happily, taking in this moment. I want to treasure such simple moments like these. I want it to be in a snow globe; something remembered forever.

“Do anything you please, Yong.” I chuckled, flashing an eye smile.

Just then, the bell above the restaurant’s door opened, signalling a new costumer coming in. Taeyong widened his eyes at the door. I tilted my head at his weird action, turning around to see just what made him react that way.

“Jiung?” “Yuta?” The two of us whispered at the same time.

Jiung’s eyes immediately went to Taeyong, her face lighting up at the sight of him as she tried to make her way over. But Yuta stopped her by the shoulders. I now understood what Yuta meant by saying, “She’s so attracted to him.”

While Jiung was struggling to eacape Yuta’s strong grasp, Taeyong was halfway off his seat. I immediately reached a hand to place on his arm. “Where you going?” I asked, faking a smile when in reality I was getting nervous.

“Wanting to say hi to Jiung.” Taeyong was about to alide himself off his seat so I grabbed his arm, trying to stop him in the most natural way possible. “I don’t think you should. She seems busy.” I tugged on his arm slightly, an attempt to get him to sit back down. “But it looks like she’s struggling. I- Wait here.” Taeyong noticed how I was trying so hard to stop him from leaving. He raised a brow and shook my hand off in an instant, his strength powering over my desires.

I followed behind him. Taeyong forcefully removed Yuta away from Jiung and Yuta’s eyes immediately glanced to mine. Both of us sending nervous signals to each other in that split second. “What the hell were you doing to her?” Taeyong growled lowly, his voice and tone suddenly growing dark as he held Jiing’s wrist, his body standing in front of hers as if he’s protecting her.

“I was just getting her out of the restaurant since it’s quite packed.” Yuta awkwardly replied with an excuse. “No you were purposely stopping me from going to Taeyong.” Jiung fought back. I stood there frozen, watching by the sidelines as nervousness started rising in me. Are they going to find out about my plan with Yuta?

“I think it’s just a misunderstanding. You two can go now.” I ripped Taeyong’s tight hold around Jiung’s wrist, dragging him back to stand beisde me. “I just want to chat with Taey-”

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Move along now.” I tried to shove Yuta and Jiung out the door. Taeyong’s hand suddenly gripped onto mine. I looked up instantly.

“Pause. You’re very acting weird. What’s going on?” Taeyong’s voice was raised higher than before. A few people were staring at us. “Nothing...” I whispered, looking down. I was now scared to the bone. I didn’t know what to reply, how to cover it up. It’s gonna have to slip out eventually. At least I was able to be with Taeyong more often.

“Yuta and I planned for you guys to never meet again.” That’s it. It’s all over. With that simple line of confession, the truth was now out. No where left to hide or run. Yuta smacked me on the arm, making me wince. “What the heck?!” He half-shouted in a whisper.

“Are you serious? And for what? Jealous or something?” Taeyong was mad. So mad. And I felt it. I was so scared. I was shivering with every word he said. I gulped, avoiding eye contact with him. I didn’t need to give a reply. My body has said it all. A moment of silence filled with tension circled around us. Suddenly, Taeyong stormed out.

I panicked, immediately going back to the table we were at to grab my belongings and rushed out, wanting to stop Taeyong. I looked around frantically. I spotted him walking down the street on the left. I ran as fast as I could, my hand reaching out for him as I shouted his name countless of times, but he doesn’t respond as if he was deaf.

“Taeyong, please!” I cried out. I finally had his wrist tightly around my fingers. He turned around sharply. He tried to walk away, but I tried harder to grip onto the hem of his sweater tighter. “What?”

I realised at that very moment that I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to stop him, but I never thought of what to do afterwards. I wanted to say “Don’t leave.” But it never left my lips.

I stood there silently, my thumb caressing against the cloth as I bit my lip hard. “Hello?” Taeyong asked, annoyed. That one simple word hit me, right on the heart. It was like an arrow, painfully accurate at where its being shot. Just as how one word from him could light up my day, and one word from him can make it come crashing down as well. His change in tone and mood was quick and intense. I couldn’t stop thinking about being terrified.

I eventually took in a deep breath, opening my tote bag and taking out the book that I have forgotten to give him that day while I was spying on him.

“Here. Have it, as a present.” I brushed a hand down the back of my head, my fingers combing through the ends as I turned around and walked away in the opposite direction after shoving the book to Taeyong’s chest, remembering the note was somewhere in there but I never bothered knowing exactly where.

My breathing started to become unstable. The further I walked away, the urge of falling down to the ground and collapsing became stronger. But I continued walking, telling myself to stay strong the whole way till I reach home. “You can cry on the floor all you want. Just quickly get home now.” I kept whispering to myself, begging my legs to speed up but my wobbly knees were not helping.

I cried that night. Very hard. The whole scene of kept replaying like a movie tape. All I could think about was how mad Taeyong looked. With his voice and eyes. It was a look I’ve never seen on him before. It was like a completely new side of him. The entire opposite of what he usually was. I now realised that he’s one of those “Their all butterflies and rainbows till they get pissed off.” That phrase cannot be any more true in regards to Taeyong.

Every day I tried to meet Taeyong. At the bar, his home, the bookstore. Anywhere he could be. He wasn’t replying to my texts, or calls. He probably blocked me. And on his socials as well. He wasn’t responding to me at all. I got worried sick. Is he never going to talk to me ever again?

Constantly, I mentally slammed my head against an imaginary wall, thinking about how I never thought of this outcome while weighing out the possible aftermath of the decision I made. How could I be so stupid, so reckless?

I eventually gave up trying to get in contact with him. He needed time and space away from me, completely. The hole this made in my heart was deep, like a dried up well with vines that has sharp long thorns growing in them. And every time I thought about Taeyong, I am constantly being pierced by those thorns of regret and agony, pricking deeper into my skin the more I fell deeper.

It was choking me; Taeyong’s absence. I couldn’t breathe at all. I was sinking, gasping for air each time I longed for him. I just wanted him back. I wanted things to get back to normal. I wanted to be us again.

Two months have passed. It was the worst two months of my life. Worst than the exam stress I had for last year’s final project. I had university to worry about on top of Taeyong. I was mentally going through hell. And again, the worst one yet. And it was now that I realised, I’d be much better off having him as a friend than anything less. But I was selfish enough to not treasure it that way, and it’s now finally gone. Completely out of my reach.

One night, I was up. Doing assignments. Nothing’s new. Nothing’s changed. Taeyong has yet to open up to me. I glanced at the clock on my phone, groaning as I let my head fall on the table. I closed my eyes. I was too stressed. The world’s spinning too fast. I needed it to stop for awhile. My brain can’t bear this much.

As if on cue, the door bell rang while I lifted my head off the table. My head slowly turned to my room door. The bell rang again. A few seconds later, it rang yet again. Whoever’s outside was frustrated or something, jamming their fingers on the bell while saying “I’ll keep annoying you till you open this damn door.”

I pushed my chair back and walked over to the door. I looked through the peek hole. Taeyong...? I opened the door. On instinct, I grabbed him by his waist while his body fell on me. His face tilted up to meet mine. His cheeks were flushed red. His eyes were half opened and looking around as if stars are swirling above his head. He’s drunk.

“Good night. I wanna go in.” Taeyong whispered. Yup, he’s drunk. His breath reeked or alcohol as he spoke. I stood there for a moment, needing to process the current situation. At three in the morning, Taeyong showed up here drunk. I can think about why later. But now I had to figure out a way to carry his heavy body into the living room.

Taeyong wrapped his arms around my waist, sticking his body against mine. “You’re so warm.” I blinked rapidly. I looked down on him. I can’t believe it. He’s here. After two months of ignoring, he can simply show up here. Drunk, even. Worst of all, I still had the love to move along with this. The anger was still there. It’s just that his sudden presence made me forget about it a little while.

Out of the blue, like a marionette on strings, he jerkily push himself off me and staggered his way to the lviing room. I followed closely behind, not bothering to turn on the lights. I didn’t feel the need to. I sat down at the edge of the couch while he laid his body down. He giggled to himself and muttered things I couldn’t understand. I know what he’s like when drunk. Unstable, crazy, a lightweight. Will not remember a single thing the next morning.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, not even sure why. Why did I bother asking when he won’t remember any of this the next day? Well, he’s here now. And no matter what state he was in, I just wanted answers.

“To thank you. Me thank you. Mwah!” Taeyong puckered his lips in the end, eyes closed and shaking his head furiously. His fluffy hair moving along. I smacked my bottom lip and nodded. “For what exactly?”

“For getting rid of Jiung for me. She’s so annoying. I’d much rather be with you.” Taeyong mumbled, finger slowly pointing up to me. Unconsciously, I pointed back to myself too. “Me?” Taeyong pursed his lips into a thin line and nodded firmly. “Uhuh. Yes, right. Mhm.”

I kept silent for a moment. “That wasn’t really what I got from how you reacted two months ago.” Suddenly, Taeyong forcefully gripped onto my wrist, pulling me down. I let out a soft gasp, realising that my body was laying on top of his. We stared at each other for a long while, the close proximity making it so that I could feel his cold breath on my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I breathed heavily as I felt my face getting hot. Stop it. Why are you falling for him too quickly?

“Go home, Taeyong.” I whispered so softly in a calming and light tone. Taeyong whined in response. He was now pouting with his big boba eyes. He looked like a sad puppy. My heart instantly melted at the sight. I couldn’t resist. “I’m staying here.” He said in a high pitch voice, hugging me closer and putting me in an uncomfortable position for my body. Regardless, I stayed.

After two months he was finally here, and in my arms. This night might not mean anything to him but it made me feel relived. The fact that he remembered my house, my name, me. Whether it was just the alcohol driving him to do such things that are out of his control, I didn’t mind. All I needed was for him to be here. It felt good to be with him for that one night. Just one night was all I needed. It didn’t stop my anger for him about the fact that he ignored me, but I was okay with it. That night, I let it go. All I wanted was to feel such peace with Taeyong.

We ended up sleeping together on the small couch. I woke up with terrible body aches but either way, I sighed in relief when I woke up before Taeyong. I tried finding his phone, that was hidden under the crack of the cushions. I typed in his password. I memorise it like how he memorise mine. I went to his contacts and called the one person I knew.

“I have a favour to ask, Ten.” I said nervously as I watch him carry Taeyong into his car. He hummed, pulling his head out of the car and slamming the door. “Don’t tell him he went here.” Ten gave a half-shrug, nodding his head in response. “Sure. I’m not sure what’s going on between you two, but it seems like a lot. Should solve it soon.”

“Yeah... I hope so.”

16th October.

I’ve lost count on the number of love letters I’ve given you. I can’t give them to you anymore, since you don’t even want anything to do with me. I can’t blame you. I knew you’d be pissed. I was hesitant on doing it but I was so selfish, wanting you all to myself. But what can I do, Taeyong? I’ve wanted you for so long. Yet you’re so delusional of my feelings. How could you have not read any of of my letters? Perhaps you have and chose to ignore it. That’s more painful than you being upfront and rejecting me. As much as I allow you to hate on me, I’d still say this. Fuck you, Lee Taeyong.

23rd October.

I saw you at the bar. You look... happy. Without me. You act as if nothing happened. Like I never happened. I wonder if you’re just putting on an act, or are you actually okay without me by your side. Are you still mad? Did you forget about it but have gotten use to not being with me? I want to know Taeyong so please, respond. That’s all I ask from you. Fuck that. You don’t even have to talk. I just want you here with me. Whether the air around us will be filled with tension, I don’t care. What I’m going through, is not nice, Taeyong. It is punishment for my actions. But how long do I have to keep it up? How long to I have to suffer to take a breath? For you to pull me out of this mess with your forgiveness. I’m falling apart.

14th December.

Wow. It’s December already. I’m sitting at the park we go to every Christmas. We’d be freezing to death but still glued to the bench chatting about life since we just loved being out in the snow. And yet, you never got back to me. I found out from Jiung that you left the country but never said where. I miss you, Lee Taeyong. I’m tired. So tired, of constantly penning my feelings down on pieces of paper. Words I can never say to you out loud, are all in the letters in your books that you never bothered to open. I even hid one between the books of your huge ass shelf. Why haven’t you said anything about them? I know I should move on, because it really does seem like you never want to talk to me ever again. I’m losing hope, more faster than before as each day pass, wondering where the hell as you and how you’re doing. I keep telling myself “Let it be. Let him have his moment.” But I wonder if you ever think about how I’m bearing all of this as well. That without you, I might never be able to forgive myself.

I slide the notes under Taeyong’s apartment door. I knew he was out of the country. Some nights I’d sit by his door, the note in hand as I envision him in his house. I couldn’t think about what he’s doing. And I constantly ponder about it. Is he eating well? Sleeping well? Is he enjoying himself wherever he’s at? Months passed. And as time went on, I began to wonder if my letters were even worth writing. Why was I giving so much? Why am I going through such lengths, physically and emotionally, for Taeyong to be okay? Why am I bearing such emotions when it’s not even certain that I’ll be given the same in return.

I’m making a promise to myself. I’ll let go of Lee Taeyong. I’ll slowly, bit by bit, remove my feelings out of my heart. It’s not worth it, I kept telling myself. I’m meaninglessly suffering for someone who is isn’t appreciating it. So why should I go on? I loved you, Lee Taeyong. I changed my words. I loved you.

And that was the last love letter I wrote.

Along my journey to forgetting Taeyong, I suffered a lot. I was always drawn back to him. I was always willing to put my pen on paper and just write something to him. About anything. It was a bad habit that needed to stop. I had to let go years of feelings that were being pilled up in my heart. And it was something that’s extremely hard to let go. But other than my own factors, there were external, circumstantial ones as well. Whether it was coincidental or not, that was something I can never know the answer to.

I was on my laptop, casually scrolling through Pinterest to calm myself with the aesthetics of random things. Room decor, clothing ideas, handsome idols. Anything that can take my mind off my billions of overloaded projects for awhile.

I didn’t know how, but I ended up looking at quotes, Japanese ones to be exact. The deep meaning of words. Some were heartfelt while other were heartbreaking. I read them off casually till I paused at one.

‘Tsundoku— buying books and not reading them; letting books pile up unread on shelves, floors, or nightstands.’

I scoffed to myself, pinching my temples as I shook my head. It’s just like you, Lee Taeyong. “Fucking hell.” I mumbled, slamming the laptop shut. I’ve been able to not think about Taeyong for a long time now. Or at least I felt like it was a long time. I wasn’t going to let a word get me off course. I placed my laptop on the bed and went back to my study table, suddenly feeling motivated to continue as a way to distract myself from thinking about him.

Thinking that I wouldn’t be facing that state of dilemma again, I just so happen to see a quote the first thing I entered Pinterest.

‘If they were meant to reunite, they had to go separate ways.’

I was then reminded of Taeyong yet again. But I don’t think I was thinking about him as a person, but our relationship. Just our relationship. Having to part ways as a mean to reunite. That’s something I found hard to believe. Why am I having hope that it’ll happen when I highly doubt I’ll experience it? Why is my mind slowly pulling me back to the memories I have with Taeyong? I want him long gone. I want him holed up in the corner of my mind, out of sight, out of mind. But things are always popping up randomly around me, and it all reminded me of him. I feel like it’s his doing, funny enough. Constantly hinting about him with almost everything I come across.

“What the fuck?”

I looked at the Youtube home screen and what was recommended for me. One of the videos had Taeyong’s name. And his face was on the thumbnail. The title? Lee Taeyong | Freestyle dance | Paris In The Rain (Lauv) My finger moved on its own, bringing the cursor to the video and clicking on it.

As I expected, the video was taken in Paris. So that’s where he has been. He was in Paris this whole time without my notice. I was shocked to find that the video has tons of likes and view. I read through the comments. They were all swooning over Taeyong.

“Who wouldn’t?” I said to myself. I scrolled up and played the video. My eyes didn’t leave the screen for a second. I was frozen, not being able to move an inch as I watched, completely in awe. Firstly, Taeyong has his hair dyeda light ashy grey or blue. It suited him well, all too well. His dancing was immensely beautiful. Anyone would fall for him. Visuals, talent. He has it all. Dancer by day, bartender by night. He looked so free and alive in his dance. Serving the world with a hard punch with his deep emotions that were imbued perfectly into his movements.

I bit my lower lip. Fuck. I felt it. The goosebumps, the quivering of my lips. My eyes started to well up with tears. “No, this is not happening again.” The video was still playing, the music ringing in my ears but I couldn’t bear to look at the video. I was watching Taeyong, living the perfect life in Paris. What more could he needed? I clearly wasn’t in his equation. I’m completely gone, removed out of his life. No trace of my presence to be found.

The longer I think, the more I forced myself not to cry. Eventually, being weakling I am, I ended up falling deep into the harsh and intense whirl pool that is my feelings once again, a place I never visited in a long while. The feelings started dancing in my mind like butterflies flapping in unison to the soundtrack of my sadness. I could only assume that it’s what the world wants. It’s how it wants to spin, how it wants to work.

Eight months. I actually counted how long I’ve lost contact with Taeyong for. It didn’t bother me. I was trying to live a life. It’s getting better. It took a lot of baby steps. But I’m feeling a whole lot lighter now. It’s March.

I was walking back from University when my phone started vibrating in my hand since I’ve always left it on silent mode. I lifted it up. It was an unknown number. Instinctively, I chose to not pick up the call. But a few seconds later, the same number showed up on the screen. With a light groan, I picked up and brought the phone to my ear.

“Hello? Who is this?” I asked formally, waiting by the traffic light. I heard the person on the other hand breathe out a chuckle, almost like a disappointed kind. “Who the-”

“So you deleted my number?” That voice... No doubt. It was Lee fucking Taeyong. “Meet me. My home. You got ten minutes.” The call ended.

Rapidly blinking my eyes, I slowly brought down the phone. I read over the number again. It was Taeyong’s phone. Why didn’t I remember it? I used to know it. It’s one of the few things I used to be able to tell off the top of my head. “Ten minutes?” I looked at the time.

I don’t know what urged me, but I ran. I ran as fast as I could. The unknown force. It was unfamiliarly familiar. If that made sense. I was able to live a life without Taeyong. I was. I was capable of it. And that’s what I did. But at the very moment, I felt the need to see him. The spontaneous out of the blue kind of feel. It was all just pouring out of me.

I stood at his doorstep, hand on my chest and other as support for my body against the wall. Panting heavily, I tried to slowly calm myself down. I gulped, and rang the doorbell. No turning back.

The door flung open. And there stood Taeyong. He still had his ashy hair colour. His face never changed a single bit. Nor did his overall physique. He was still handsome, breathtaking. “Come in.”

I sucked my lips and sidled in timidly and warily. Nothing has changed in his house as well. The large bookshelf with the television in the centre. I started to remember the love letters. All of them are hidden in the pages of the books in that very shelf. It reminded me of my feelings for him.

I sat down on the leather couch as Taeyong disappeared into the kitchen. I kept my head faced forward, placing my tote bag down, leaning it against the couch on the floor. Taeyong came back moments later. Two plates with a slice of cheesecake. He handed on to me. “Try it.” He said.

I slowly took a bite. Chewing on it, I scrunched up my nose, placing the plate down on the table. “I hate it. Tastes too artificial.” I commented dryly. Taeyong chuckled and cleared his throat. “Knew you’d say that.” Taeyong shoved a bite into his mouth, eating it as he placed the plate beside mine. “Want to know why you’re here?”

I bobbed my shoulders. This atmosphere, the air between us. It wasn’t awkward at all. Though our words were dry and short, it felt normal. It wasn’t weird being next to him after not seeing him for eight months.

Taeyong stood up, taking small steps to the shelf. As if practiced, he pulled out one letter from a book, another, and another, and another. It was never ending. It took him at least ten minutes to slide out all the letters and placing them on the table. I silently watch, my anxiety turning up a notch with each letter.

He finally took what I hoped was the last letter and went back to sit next to me. A specific letter is held in his hand. He unfolded it, placing the paper on the table and turning it so that I could read.

It was my last love letter.

“So you knew.” I whispered, looking down, leaning forward as I laced my fingers together. I took in a deep breath, my eyes scanning down the note before turning my head to Taeyong. “Then why the fuck didn’t you do anything about it?”

Taeyong lifted the paper off the table, holding it in front of him. He reread it. Running a hand through hair, chest puffing up as he inhaled and exhaled sharply. “Because I wanted you to keep writing to me.”

“What...?” That was definitely not an answer I was expecting.

Taeyong licked his lips, smacking them before sniffling a rubbing his nose. He lets out a weak chuckle. “I liked them. From your handwriting, to your words. I felt it; your love, with each letter.” He whispered softly.

I simply couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This was the explanation and truth I’ve been wanting to hear for months. This is what kept me up at night, what led me to have my mental breakdowns, the constant ‘what if’s I formulated throughout. “You just like them? Taeyong if you’re rejecting fucking do it now-” I was about to scream, but Taeyong was quick to cut me off.

“In a way it felt like you were writing a book. One just for me. That’s why I never bothered to read any other books. I just needed yours. Your... simply overpowering pain in the heart love letters.” Taeyong smiled down at the letter, hovering his fingers over the words.

“And I don’t just like the love letters. I love the author. Paris made me realise that. It took me that long. And I’m sorry for how long you needed to wait.”

“What do you love about the author?”

I could tell Taeyong was taken aback by that question. And I knew he would react that way. He still knew me well, bouncing back and giving a confident answer.

“I don’t want to sound common by saying it’s her smile, laughter, brightness. But it truly is what I love about her. All the times we’ve spent were filled with nothing but pure bliss. Serenity, is what I feel when I’m with her. Longing, like I was meant to be by her side. I’ve known her long enough to know every single detail about her, ones that maybe she doesn’t even know herself. Like how drinks two straws when she’s sad, or having the habit of twiddling her thumbs when she’s excited. Little things like those, I find them adorable. No matter what she is, a nerd, weirdo, plain crackhead, it’s... the energy, her own energy. A light and force only she could illuminate.”

I couldn’t say anything. I frozen stiff by his words. He actually meant it. I could feel it through his voice. He stuttered here and there nervously, finding words to say. But he was able to structure them in the most beautiful way possible. I had no words to say.

Suddenly, Taeyong slowly brought his hand up to cup my cheek. That one touch alone made me feel a lot of things. It was like I was hit by a huge wave of feelings all bunched up together and crashing over me. But it wasn’t something I couldn’t handle. It was overwhelming, but I was calm. I was at peace. It felt good. Just this.

He slowly and carefully swiped his thumbs across my cheeks like I’m the most fragile thing in the world. His touch was lightweight and simply serene. “Another thing the author doesn’t know about herself is that she really doesn’t know when she’s crying and spilling out tears.”

I blinked my eyes, Taeyong smoothing his hands from my cheeks and to my shoulders, placing them there firmly as his eyes stared into mine. I can’t exactly explain what I felt. But it was like the stars aligned, as cliche as that sounds.

‘If they were meant to reunite, they had to go separate way.’ I resonated with this now. I understood what it meant. Our months of separation were all for this exact moment. Both of us suffered, one trying to find themselves again while the other needing the time to realise that what’s most valuable was right in front of him. We needed that gap, for us to reunite and actually be able to love each other properly and willingly. Which definitely would not be a trouble now.

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mostlycompetentwriter · 5 years ago

Text

Dragon Three

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Felix (SKZ)

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of blood and gore, lots of sexy times with Felix, explicit smut, language, and alcohol use

Word Count: 7.8K

Genre: Game of Thrones AU; Fantasy AU

Summary: In order to stake her claim to the throne, Y/N must cross the narrow sea and destroy an enemy who has an endless barrage of assassins tracking her every movement. But at least she has her faithful advisor, Felix, by her side, and an intimidating army of Dragons who only serve their queen.

A/N: The title comes from a 3racha song which is totally cool and you should listen to it while reading this!

Spring was a time of rebirth and renewal - an opportunity for second chances and new discoveries. But for me it was different. Because I was destined for something greater, and it was nothing short of intoxicating.

You see, I sought redemption - and there was only one thing left standing in my path.

My remaining obstacle was a wealthy land across the narrow sea - and the final battle meant that I would need to conquer a distant kingdom with an army of skilled warriors by my side. It also meant finding the very best people to serve me, and there weren’t many who planned to turn against a woman with three powerful and very loyal dragons who served at her behest.

But there was still time for distractions - consider it a stress reliever - and I sighed in pleasure, eyelids fluttering when I looked at the flash of silver between my legs - a pair of blue eyes pronounced with desire. “Felix,” I whispered, tracing my fingers across the swollen lines of his lips.

“My queen,” Felix murmured softly in return, looking up at me from his place between my thighs, mouth glistening with the smeared mess of my wet arousal.

“Aren’t you going to finish what you started?” I asked him, hardening my gaze because it was delightful to see the way he submitted to me.

“I’ll do anything you want,” Felix promised, and I could feel his tongue lapping at my wet folds, sinking into my tight cunt with practiced skill.

I hummed in agreement, relaxing my head back against my pillows. When I met Felix for the first time, back when I wasn’t nearly as influential, he was nothing but a little boy who lusted after something that he could never have. But he still agreed to serve me, and his loyalty was nothing short of profound. Perhaps that’s why I eventually succumbed to his advances - agreeing to share my bed with him.

“Can I fuck you?” Felix asked, pulling me out of my thoughts with a guttural groan.

I smirked at him, pretending to think about his request while I made of show of lowering my gaze to the obvious bulge of his erection. “Are those new pants?”

Felix was taken aback by my random comment, but he swallowed hard before responding: “Yeah.”

“They certainly make your cock look bigger,” I said, reaching down to trace the outline. “But you and I both know that your little cock isn’t good enough, so I’m hesitating because I don’t know if it can satisfy me.”

The degradation brought tears to Felix’s eyes, but I knew they weren’t out of grief but rather pleasure. “Please, Y/N,” he cried. “I can make you feel good.”

“You’re just desperate to fuck your cock into anything, aren’t you?” I asked with a snarl.

Felix nodded his head, holding onto my thighs with clenched fingers. Truthfully, Felix’s cock was actually rather good - it wasn’t very girthy, but it was long and always managed to rub against my g-spot perfectly. But he didn’t need to know that - especially when he loved to hear me talk down to him, and his eyes were beautiful and bright with tears filling the corners. “I want to be good for you.”

“You always try for me, Felix,” I placated him, holding up my hand to wipe away some of his tears. “I’m a fair ruler, aren’t I?”

Felix nodded again. “The Seven Kingdoms will be pleased to have you as their queen.”

I smiled at his words. “Well, I want you to show me your best effort, Felix. Can you do that for me? Take out your little cock and please me like you promised.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Felix panted, and his fingers shook when he removed his belt, shoving down his pants and boxers before tossing them aside.

I eyed his cock with interest, licking my lips while he wrapped a loose fist around the base, moving his hand up and down while choking around a moan. Meanwhile, I spread my legs wider for him, watching the way his eyes glued themselves to my empty cunt. “Go ahead, Felix,” I said. “Show me what your cock can do.”

“I will,” he promised, looking at me with so much affection that it was almost suffocating. But in the next moment, he was moving himself closer, inserting just the tip as he fought to contain his emotions.

“Why are you holding yourself back?” I asked him with a frown. “Show me how these hips move,” I added while squeezing at his thin waist.

Felix nodded with a quiet groan, throwing back his head to reveal an expanse of beautiful, tanned skin. It was an ethereal appearance, and I could spend the rest of my days studying the shape of him. He was an elegant man with delicate features and a lithe figure that betrayed the impressive strength and resolve of his character - his desire to please the ones he respected the most.

“Y/N,” Felix said, brushing our lips together in a light kiss. His arms were shaking with the effort of holding himself up over me, releasing low grunts whenever he pressed himself inside. I melted at his ministrations - watching the sweat as it trickled down the sides of his temples, shimmering in contrast to his skin. Because this close, I could see every pore and defining feature - fighting to keep my eyes open to enjoy the delightful vision of his focused expression while his hips rolled in long, sensual patterns. Brushing my clit and filling my tight walls with his thick erection. Pulsating to the beat of his movements, and grazing my g-spot when he angled himself just right - using my thighs as leverage to keep us both as close as possible.

I hummed in delight when one of his hands came up to caress the side of my face - a light touch that contrasted to the quick motions of his deep thrusts. Penetrating my cunt with the same kind of desperation that Felix always seemed to reserve for these intimate moments together - like he wanted to prove a point to me. It wasn’t obvious, whatever it was, but the mystery of Felix was part of the reason why he appealed so much to me.

“I’m close,” I warned him because I could tell that he was straining to hold back his own orgasm. He was a selfless lover, always ensuring that my pleasure was obtained before he could even consider the possibility of his own release.

In return, his fingers teased my clitoris, and there was a proud smirk on his face as if he was enjoying the quick manner in which he had broken me down. “Come for me,” he said, but it was less of a command and more of a courteous request, and I finally let go of all my accumulating stresses, arching my back against the sudden pressure in my lower back - a tight knot that was slowly becoming undone around me.

And in the afterglow of my orgasm, I listened to Felix’s pretty sounds until something warm started to leak out of the place where he pulled out - leaving behind a mess that we would both ignore. Instead, he collapsed next to me on his back, breathing heavy while he turned around to face me. “Was that good for you?”

I grinned at his neediness, but I nodded my head because I knew that he considered his performances inside the bedroom just as important as the advice he gave outside of our personal affairs. “Of course it was,” I said, pecking his lips. “You’re always so perfect for me, Felix.”

His accompanying smile was brighter than sunshine, and I closed my eyes to the sound of a distant roar outside of our fortress.

It was a triumphant sound because it meant that my dragons had returned.

The stars were beginning to fade at the steady emergence of the sun, and I was walking across the bridge outside of the fortress to approach the sleeping forms of my dragons. They had arrived sometime the previous evening - making their anticipated return after journeying far away at my direction. I always worried about them when they were gone, but they had an uncanny ability to return to me even after weeks passed with no sign of their massive bodies creating brilliant shadows among the blue of the sky.

“There you are,” I remarked, smiling when Chan - my oldest and largest dragon - perked up at the sound of my voice. His scales bristled around a heavy yawn, reflecting a liquid black under the sunlight. “Chan,” I said, watching as he turned his giant head in my direction. “I missed you.” He grunted in return, attracting the attention of Changbin and Jisung who both startled awake at the sound of their older brother’s interruption.

In comparison to Chan, Changbin was the second oldest, and his blue coloring reminded me of the ocean. Then, there was Jisung who might be the smallest of his brothers, but his scales reflected a sharp silver color that made him appear constantly alert. Still, I laughed at their expressions, wondering how anyone could ever be cruel to these magnificent animals when they expressed themselves so completely with a subtle blinking of their eyes or a single noise to demonstrate their opinion.

But I carefully navigated around their powerful forms, pausing when I noticed the evidence of their last mission. “I’m very proud of you,” I said, running a hand along Chan’s spine as the eldest dragon purred at my praise. “Let’s have a proper reunion,” I suggested, taking several steps back so that they could dismiss the remnants of their slumber.

Meanwhile, I noticed the approach of Felix from my peripheral, and he looked unbelievably beautiful under the lingering effects of the dawning morning. “My queen,” he greeted me, pausing as he studied the three Dragons stretching their wings. “They’ve returned.”

“Yes,” I agreed, holding out one hand to gently caress the side of Chan’s muzzle. He gurgled in response before affectionately returning my gesture. “I think they made their point.”

I pointed to the side where the skeletal remains of the assassin waited on the cold, unforgiving ground. It was the third one this month, and I had grown tired of living in fear of them. But I also understood that it was a good thing - it meant that the Queen across the sea was afraid of me.

“I’m surprised they brought back anything,” Felix remarked, and he was suddenly next to my side.

“Well, I’m sure they wanted to show me that they did a good job,” I said, grinning when Changbin started nipping at Jisung’s wings. “Play nice, boys.”

Changbin turned to me in an instant, releasing a whining sound as if to show me his displeasure. “They obey you remarkably well,” Felix said. “After all, at their core, we’re talking about wild animals.”

“Oh, but they have good hearts,” I said, smiling when Jisung sniffled at my outstretched hand and I allowed myself to give him several pats on the neck. “Did you have something to tell me?”

Felix sighed as if he was burdened by the information he wished to share with me. “Y/N, we don’t have enough ships to cross the narrow sea, and our armies are growing bored with waiting around the city.”

“Hmmm,” I acknowledged him. “What do you suggest?”

“We could attempt to approach the iron bank,” Felix said. “They could give us the gold to build our own ships.”

“I suppose,” I agreed. “That might take more time than I’m willing to give”

“Well, we can always negotiate with the lords in the next city,” Felix suggested. “Perhaps we can offer them some of our overstocked resources. And I’m sure they’ll never say no to someone who rides on the backs of Dragons.”

“If that’s what you think will work,” I said, turning to look at him before placing a delicate kiss on his lips. “I trust your logic.”

Felix smiled, clearly pleased by my show of adoration. “Shall I find someone with a disposable navy?”

“Thank you, Felix,” I said, reaching into my pocket for a small treat, holding it out for Jisung who happily lapped it up with clear delight. “I think I’ll pay a visit to the iron bank tomorrow. We can try to convince them that investing their resources into our army will be of the utmost importance.”

“I’ll make the arrangements myself,” Felix said before offering me a polite nod of his head. “Will you spend more time with them?”

I grinned. “I have another mission for my Dragons, but I’ll join you inside before noon.”

Felix gave a noise of acknowledgment before I watched him disappear into our carefully guarded fortress.

Braavos was an intimidating city, and there were richly-clad men and women walking along the main roads touting their impressive assets and keeping themselves surrounded by the best that money could afford. I sneered at their ostentatious displays, choosing to travel with a few willing soldiers and Felix without all the ornament. The entire city was a complicated maze but the Iron Bank was, perhaps, the most impressive institution, and I studied the outline of the cathedral as it towered over our surroundings.

Felix managed to arrange a meeting with the most influential bankers, and I was rehearsing what I planned to say to those men in order to convince them that it was in their best interests to support my cause. The Iron Bank was notorious in its reputation, and the men who financed the institution didn’t just hand out loans to anyone unless it was certain they could be repayed. The expectation was pressuring, but perhaps this would be an objective opportunity for me to truly discern what everyone else thought about my cause and whether or not they believed in my success.

Yet, I was still unprepared for the apparent signs of hostility: “What is your business here?”

I blinked once at the aggressive question, tilting my head at the sole guardian who stood at the doors to the Iron Bank. “My name is Y/N,” I said. “Perhaps this can answer your inquiry.”

The guardian waited for another moment before bowing low at the waist. “Wait here,” he instructed me before disappearing inside the building.

I scoffed and turned to the side to glance at Felix. “Are they always this hostile?”

“They’re unkind to outsiders,” Felix answered, and I pondered over his words even after the guardian returned to lead us into a massive room where three men sat before us on golden thrones.

My first impression was rather hackneyed because the men were all older, clearly aged and experienced, and they wore matching haughty expressions of contempt. In the past, I might’ve felt intimidated by such a reception, but I wasn’t a scared little girl anymore. “Y/N,” one of the men spoke up over the others. “Welcome to the Iron Bank.”

“It’s just as impressive as I’ve heard through rumors,” I remarked, allowing my eyes to peruse the surrounding decor - noting the domed ceiling and pristine floors. “I can feel its history.”

“Is that so?” he asked. “Well, we’re honored to meet with someone who has caused quite a stir in our free city.”

“My reputations precedes me,” I said. “I’m very grateful.”

“We’re also quite curious,” a second man said. “What can we do for you?”

“Of course,” I acknowledged. “As my advisor has likely revealed to you, I’m in need of funding for a fleet of ships to carry myself and my army across the narrow sea.”

“How unexpected,” the second man remarked. “The last time somebody challenged for the throne, they couldn’t even make it to the walls of King’s Landing before they were obliterated.”

I shivered at his casual tone. “I have something different.”

“Yes,” the second man agreed. “But differences aren’t necessarily equal to guaranteed success.”

“Regardless,” I countered, “I see this is as a mutual opportunity. When I conquer Westeros, I will repay my debt and more.”

“Such grand promises,” the second man said. “But why should we believe you?”

“I’ve already conquered most of Essos,” I said. “Men have cowered in my presence, and the ones who tried to cross me have paid the ultimate price.” I grinned while chancing another step closer to the bankers. “This is an advantage for the Iron Bank. You’ll already have access to the next ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Yes, but we still don’t see it as an investment that will benefit the bank,” the first man said. “I’d consider your proposal a dangerous liability.”

“Because you don’t believe in my cause,” I said. “How foolish.”

“The current regime has reigned for decades,” the man said. “There’s a reason for its continued success, and that perseverance overshadows a grassroots rebellion.”

I huffed at his assessment. “What fails to convince you? The army serving me with a thousand men? My reputation across Essos? The three Dragons who fight at my side?”

“Even if you are successful,” the first man interrupted. “There’s no guarantee that you’d pay back the debt you will accrue.”

“My word is not enough?”

“Words can be deceiving,” he replied. “Actions are objective. They speak much louder.”

“Very well,” I said, resigning myself to failure. “But I will always remember your faithlessness.”

“Threats don’t intimidate us, Y/N,” the first man cautioned. “You’d be wise to remember this because you may need us again in the future.”

“We’ll see about that,” I said, and I turned my back on the Iron Bank because I would need to search for alternative means if I wanted to cross the narrow sea.

It was late when I finished my meetings with the people of Braavos, listening to their concerns and addressing grievances. It was tiring work, especially when I encountered situations where there wasn’t such a thing as an easy solution. I was exhausted, but there was nothing better to resolve my overflowing tension than arriving back in my room to find a naked Felix arranging a bath.

“Were you waiting for me?” I asked him, allowing my hand to skim across the skin stretching around his jutting hip bone before walking out onto the balcony outside.

It was bitterly cold, and I supported my chin against my upturned palm as my arm rested against the balcony - quietly observing my Dragons sleeping around the shelter of the forest. “You’re thinking hard,” Felix said, shameless as he walked out to stand next to me.

“I knew there were other options,” I said. “But today was the first time someone has dared to reject me.”

“I see.” Felix nodded, allowing strands of his silver hair to ruffle in the breeze. “I wouldn’t take offense to a bunch of old assholes who have nothing better to do with their lives than play with people like we’re puppets.”

“But isn’t the point of becoming queen to control those strings?” I asked him. “Otherwise, how will I lead the Kingdoms?”

“By being yourself,” Felix said, drawing my attention by using a finger underneath my chin to direct my head. “I believe in you, Y/N. You’ll do great things for the Kingdoms. Nobody will ever doubt you again.”

“But it still stings,” I said, lowering my gaze to his flaccid cock. “I suppose you had other plans for tonight besides consoling your queen.”

“I wanted to please you,” Felix said. “As always.”

“Well,” I said, trailing my fingers sensually down the bare skin of his chest. “Show me what you had planned.”

“It’s nothing extravagant,” Felix said, taking my hand before leading me back inside. “Take off your clothes.”

“Are you giving out the orders tonight?” I asked, although I was already undoing the intricate lacing holding my gown together.

“If you’ll allow me,” Felix said, and I watched him lower his body into the steaming bath water, groaning in delight at the sensation.

“I’m always grateful,” I told him, removing my gown while pretending like I wasn’t glad to feel his eyes on me the entire time. I joined him with a sigh of content, falling back into his embrace as we both silently enjoyed the water and one another’s company.

“Can I wash you?” Felix asked, and I nodded before laving a kiss across his jutting collarbone.

In the meantime, Felix reached for the soap and started to slide the bar across my skin, rubbing it between his hands to create extra suds. “What shall we do about the ships?” I asked around a moan, feeling him squeeze my breasts.

“Leave that to me,” Felix replied, rubbing his thumbs in sensual circles around my nipples.

“You know that I trust you with my life,” I said, and I could feel his cock growing erect against my lower back. “Who can we approach?”

“I have someone in mind,” Felix murmured softly, and he was unceasing in the gentle kisses that he was leaving across my shoulders.

His name was Lord Park, and there were rumors that his wealth surpassed even that of the Iron Bank.

“He’s our man,” Felix assured me as we stood outside of his lavish estate - waiting for someone to greet us at the front door.

“It seems like this gentleman has more money than he knows what to do with,” I remarked.

“He also has ships,” Felix said, trailing his fingers across the back of my hand. “If he agrees to help us, then we’ll be ready to sail before our deadline.”

“Good,” I said, smiling when I sought Felix from my peripheral vision. “You’ve done well.”

Felix beamed at the compliment while the gates of the estate abruptly opened, and an older man with graying hair and a thick beard stepped out to greet us. “My distinguished guests,” he said. “Lord Park is expecting you in the great room.”

“The honor is ours,” I replied with a bow - nodding at the soldiers I had brought with me as we stepped onto the impressive grounds.

My first impression was quite unforgettable - admiring the enormous columns and the elegant statues lining the path leading to the main entrance of a notable mansion. The doors of which were wide open, revealing a foyer with broad walls and an overarching ceiling that stretched to the heavens above. ”The mansion was constructed in the early ages,” our guide explained. “My esteemed patron had the chandelier installed himself.”

“How interesting,” I remarked, exchanging a quick glance with Felix.

“You may enter at your own convenience,” the guide said, pausing outside of a set of double doors. “Lord Park only asks that you leave your men here with me.”

I hesitated at the request, but Felix squeezed my hand in reassurance, and I took a deep breath before reaching out for the door handle. The room that I had entered reminded me of an office: bookshelves lining the walls with ancient texts, and an enormous table occupying the center of the room. “Close the door behind you,” an unfamiliar man said, and he stood next to the large window overlooking the grounds.

“Of course,” I agreed, and I followed his orders before walking in the direction of the table. “The pleasure is mine, Lord Park.”

The older man chuckled, and he turned around to reveal himself to me - fairly young, but with signs of his aging in the light peppering of gray in his dark brown hair. His grayish-colored eyes were narrowed, and he looked me over like I was a piece of meant on display for him. “I’ve heard many things about you,” Lord Park said. “Have a seat.”

I nodded my head to show my thanks before pulling out one of the chairs - watching Lord Park choose a spot across from me. “Your estate is beautiful,” I told him, and he smiled as he reached for two glasses and a pitcher.

“This wine,” he said while pouring me a generous amount. “It was made from the freshest produce in my vineyards.”

I accepted the glass from him with a careful hand - bringing it to my lips to drink a tentative sip. “It’s very sweet,” I said.

“It reminds me of you,” Lord Park remarked as he drank from his own glass. “You see, the wine is deceiving. It’s taste is quite sweet, but it’s made from a very rare ingredient known for its hard interior.” He paused for a moment, meeting my gaze from across the table. “You appear that way to me as well, Y/N. Your overall impression is sweet and innocent - you must know this because you have such a delicate body. Yet, underneath that facade is someone who is capable of destroying her worst enemies.”

“Hmmm...” I trailed off with a sigh was I traced the top of my glass with one finger. “I quite like the sound of that, Lord Park.”

“You’re a very beautiful woman,” he continued, raising his glass to me before finishing the remainder of its contents. “I’ve been told that you have a pressing need for my resources.”

“Your ships in particular,” I agreed. “I’m willing to repay you, of course. If you agree to let me use those ships, then I’ll try to accommodate whatever you might need.”

“There’s not really much that I do need,” Lord Park said, and he waved his hand around as if indicating the general grandeur of his property.

“You could consider this as a potential partnership,” I said. “I have an army, and you have ships without crews.”

“Yes, but I expect something in return,” Lord Park said, and he was wearing a lascivious smile. “What do you think a single man like myself could need?”

I chose to ignore his implications. “I have Dragons, sir. That usually convinces most men.”

“Dragons that serve you,” Lord Park remarked. “What good will that do for me?”

“They follow my direction,” I agreed. “But I could command them to assist you in other ways. Perhaps if there’s someone you would wish to see...vanish?”

Lord Park chuckled. “I have no such enemies, Y/N. However, I do have a rather notable lack of a suitable heir. Perhaps you could help me with that.”

“I see,” I said, nodding my head while tasting the wine once again - faintly recognizing the bitter taste under all of the embellishment.

“Of course, marriage is my price for complete access to my ships,” Lord Park said. “I hope that is no problem for you.”

“No problem at all,” I said, even though my stomach churned uncomfortably at the mere idea.

“Then it’s settled,” Lord Park said. “I’ll have your hand, and you can use my ships for your command.”

I forced myself to smile, even though I couldn’t help but feel trapped by the prospect. Still, I had to admit that it made sense considering his circumstances, and I desperately needed his ships. It was a fair trade on the surface, but deep down inside, I couldn’t help but feel cheated.

Despite the fact that I had tried to withhold my bargain from Felix, I knew that he would eventually corner me and demand the results. Thus, it wasn’t very surprising to see him storm into my bedroom that evening - eyes reminding me of a dangerous storm over the ocean. I trembled from where I sat in front of my mirror, gliding a comb through my hair as I greeted him with brusque tone.

“My queen,” Felix said, but the sentiment lacked his usual affection. “Don’t you think it’s unfair to keep me in the dark?”

“What are you referring to, Felix?”

He scoffed at my obvious evasion. “Lord Park ordered his hand to make arrangements with me for his ships, but I’m no fool, Y/N. What did he ask for in return?”

I carefully lowered my comb, looking down at my hands folded in my lap as I mustered enough confidence to reveal the truth. “I may have to marry myself to that Lord,” I said, and I glanced up in time to notice the hurt flash across his expression. “Oh, Felix, don’t be like that. You probably knew this from the very start. It was your idea. You told me that we needed to negotiate for new ships.”

“My idea?” Felix repeated. “Y/N, at such a high price, I would’ve sought alternative sources.”

“But I can’t take that risk,” I said. “Someone else might want something even more onerous, and this is a worthy sacrifice for our cause.”

“But I hate it,” Felix said, and there was a raw emotion that exposed his very soul.

“That’s a very dangerous thing for you to say,” I told him. “We both knew that those ships would cost us more than we might be willing to give.”

“Yes, but to bind yourself to him forever!” Felix decried, and I was so very upset to see his eyes gloss over. “Y/N, I’ve given you advice,” Felix whispered. “I helped negotiate for your armies! We raised your Dragons together!”

“Oh, Felix.” I sighed. “It disappoints me to hear you speak this way. I warned you at the very start of our affair that you should keep your feelings guarded.”

“Well, I couldn’t help it,” Felix snapped. “I love you, Y/N, and I won’t see you marry another man.”

“Then you won’t see me at all,” I rebuffed, steeling my gaze.

I knew that the threat was harsh, and Felix was obviously taken aback. “You don’t mean that,” he said, but I also detected a slight hint of uncertainty.

“Perhaps you underestimate my resolve,” I said. “Those ships mean everything to me, and they’re certainly worth more than your cock.”

My heart twisted painfully at the lie, but I was convinced that marrying Lord Park was the only way to earn my crown. And I couldn’t have Felix standing in the way because of his affections for me - no matter how I might feel about him in return. This was the cold reality of a true ruler, and I would have to get used to making these sacrifices for the betterment of my people.

“Do you really think of our arrangement as nothing more than a means to satisfy your own urges?” Felix questioned. “How can I believe that, after all this time, you only used me because I was able to fill your greedy little cunt?”

“I thought it was mutual,” I said. “Feelings are too complicated, Felix. Can’t you see how they’re breaking us down?”

“Because you’re allowing our relationship to amount to nothing more than fucking,” Felix countered. “I know that you don’t mean these things, Y/N. But I’m furious that you would lie to me for the sake of a potential marriage to Lord Park of all men. I’ll always stand by your side, even after everything you’ve said tonight, but you should be careful who you allow in such close intimacy.”

“I’ll consider your advice as always,” I said, and I returned my gaze back to the mirror just in time to see the reflection of Felix’s retreating figure.

The next evening, I wasn’t surprised to receive an invitation to dine with Lord Park at his estate. Apparently, he desired to understand his future wife and her aspirations, which brought me to my present situation: walking next to a stoically unmoved Felix as we greeted two servants at the entrance to the dining room. The man in question was already inside, and he walked around the table to greet me with a formal kiss to the top of my hand. “Our future queen,” he said with a sultry tone. “You look ravishing.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” I said, ignoring the way Felix glared at our touching hands.

“Please have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the place right next to the head of the table. “Felix, you can occupy the chair next to mine.”

“How gracious,” Felix muttered, but our host was generous enough to forgive Felix’s dismissive tone.

“Let’s begin,” Lord Park announced, and we all situated ourselves around the table as several servants entered the room with delicious-smelling platters and dishes full of delectable offerings. “I’ve prepared the best,” Lord Park said. “Help yourselves.”

I smiled in his direction before perusing the vast selections. “It all looks amazing.”

“Thank you,” Lord Park said before briefly glancing in Felix’s direction. “Felix, my dearest boy, you are more than welcome to your share.”

I shot a glare in Felix’s direction because he refused to accept any of Lord Park’s hospitality. “I’m not hungry,” he grumbled.

“Not hungry!” Lord Park exclaimed. “I shall be offended if you sit there while the rest of us enjoy ourselves.”

“Felix,” I snapped - growing more and more irritated since he refused to look at me. “Don’t behave this way.”

“I’m not hungry!” Felix insisted with a far more aggressive tone.

“My word,” Lord Park said. “Will you let him get away with this?”

“It’s been a long week,” I tried to explain. “Felix has been stressed from making arrangements with our armies.”

“It’s still unacceptable behavior from someone in his position,” Lord Park remarked, and Felix’s hand tightened around his fork.

“He’ll improve,” I said, but I knew that Felix’s infamous fits of passionate rage could last for weeks at a time. “Please, Lord Park, tell us more about your daily affairs.”

“I would be glad to lead the conversation,” Lord Park said, and he started launching himself into a retelling of his dealings with a rather mischievous servant who had returned to work that day after nearly a week of constant absences. “Who does he think he is?” Lord Park scoffed. “Of course, I immediately sent him home without pay. We can’t have such actions go unpunished. It sets a bad example for the others.”

“Perhaps he has a good reason for staying away,” I said.

“Oh, he was going on about his wife,” Lord Park said with a roll of his eyes. “But it’s not of my concern. After all, I must keep this place in good condition for my future wife. I’ve been busy renovating a private shelter just for your dragons.”

“Oh, how fascinating,” I lied, dropping my hand on top of his and ignoring the way Felix flinched from the corner of my eye.

“Tell me about the beasts,” he requested. “Are they well-trained?”

“Of course,” I said. “They are quite obedient.”

“It’s just remarkable to me,” Lord Park continued. “They’re such a rare species. How did you find three perfectly good dragon eggs?”

I hesitated at his question, and my eyes met Felix’s for the first time that evening. Because my precious dragons had been a gift from Felix - back when I was still very young and afraid of the world. My aspirations seemed far too ambitious at the time, and I lamented to Felix that I had nothing to support my claim to the throne other than an unverifiable family tree. I told him that I wanted something to make me look powerful, and he had spent days following nothing more than a whispered rumor - until he found what he was looking for in the three dragon eggs hidden away in the mountains. When he brought them to me that night, we made love for the very first time - both young and inexperienced virgins - while the eggs sat next to the fireplace all night long.

But the next morning, the egg shells were in pieces, and three very tiny dragon hatch-lings greeted me with innocent eyes and adorable features.

“It’s a long story,” I told Lord Park before clearing my throat. “Please excuse me for a moment.”

“Take your time,” Lord Park said, but he was clearly at ease while drinking his second glass of wine.

I bowed my head in gratitude before rushing out of the dining room - entering the next chamber where a small window allowed me a discreet view of Lord Park. I could feel my stomach churn while looking at the horrible man - and I desperately wanted to blame the wine but I recognized the bitter sensation of guilt as it sunk against my chest.

“Do you remember when I fucked you for the very first time?”

I turned around with a start at the unexpected sound of Felix’s voice - spotting him standing at the entrance to the room. “Felix,” I whispered, feeling my heart flutter against my sternum.

“You became my entire world, Y/N,” Felix said, approaching me with measured steps as I forced myself to meet his impenetrable gaze. “I feel like I’ve loved you for my whole life, and I know that I’m the only man who could ever make you truly happy.”

“Felix,” I repeated, but my confidence was in shambles, and there were tears falling in streaks because I was horrified by the idea of marrying Lord Park and losing Felix’s touch forever.

“Tell me again, Y/N,” Felix said, and he was so close that I could see the way his chest heaved with every deep breath. “If you can find the nerve to lie to me like the rat sitting in the next room, then please refuse my heart and end my misery.”

I sniffled because I was close to hysteria as I shook my head, reaching out to wrap my arms around Felix’s neck. “I love you,” I told him. “I don’t know what I would do without your presence by my side.”

“Then we’re the same,” Felix said, and I gasped when he unwound my arms and spun me around - shoving me up against the counter. “Do you think your war is worth that cruel bastard?” Felix asked, and his fingers kept a harsh grip in my hair as he forced my head back against his shoulder - whispers low and seductive in my ear. “Perhaps it might seem like it to you, but you’ll be miserable with him. And do you know why?”

“No,” I said in return. “I don’t know.”

I guess my response wasn’t enough. Because it was like my words had triggered something primal, and I was left at the mercy of Felix as he jerked my hips back away from the counter - only to bend me over as he quickly reached down to bundle the hem of my gown between one hand. And I shivered when nothing but cold air touched my most intimate place - shaking like a leaf when he tugged my panties down my legs.

“What did those stupid assholes at the Iron Bank tell you?” Felix snarled, spreading my legs and resuming his place in the empty space - pressing the front of his erection against my heat. “Actions speak louder than words, isn’t that right?”

“Yes!” I cried because it was hard to keep myself together in the presence of this unfiltered Felix - listening to the sounds of his zipper as he tugged down his pants. His cock was warm and rigid when he used his free hand to guide the tip along my folds, moving himself up and down but never penetrating inside.

“What would those people think if they saw their queen begging for my cock?” Felix asked. “Would Lord Park think less of you if he knew that your adviser could take you whenever he pleased?”

I moaned at the rhetorical question - knowing that Lord Park was just on the other side of the glass. It fed my growing arousal, and my mouth opened around a scream when Felix started to push his cock into my sensitive pussy. “Oh!” I cried - a broken sound that only continued to increase in volume as Felix pushed down against my lower back and started pounding his cock between my tight walls.

“I’ll treat you like a slut,” Felix said. “If that’s what you really think of our relationship.”

“Nothing I said was true!” I whimpered. “I love you, Felix.”

“Yeah?” Felix purred, and it was a complete contradiction to his earlier tone. “Will you finally admit your feelings for me, Y/N? Only after I’m forced to make an example of this little cunt.”

“Please, Felix,” I said, sobbing against my forearms as both of his hands moved down to grab my waist - using it as leverage to force his cock as deep as possible.

“Look at him while I’m fucking you,” Felix growled, holding even tighter to my waist as he fucked me like it might be the last time he would ever have the honor and privilege. “You think he could ever be this good for you?”

“Nobody can ever match you, Felix,” I told him earnestly while trying to support myself against the counter.

“This pussy belongs to me,” Felix said, snapping his hips as if trying to make a point. “It can only be satisfied by my cock.”

“You’re right,” I whined, looking up through the window where Lord Park remained seated at the table - calmly attending to his own business without any idea that the woman he was trying to seduce was getting fucked in the next room.

“You might marry that bastard,” Felix continued, anchoring my thigh around his waist to find an even better angle - hitting my g-spot with every upstroke. “But you won’t share his bed, do you understand? That privilege will remain with me!”

“Felix,” I whispered, closing my eyes when I felt my orgasm approaching - the familiar heat burning inside of me. Hotter than any dragon fire.

“My queen,” Felix said. “Say my name, Y/N. Let him hear how good my cock makes you feel.”

“Shit, Felix,” I moaned, even though I had no idea what I was actually begging him to do for me. But I knew that Felix would always do his best to give me whatever I wanted.

“Come for me,” Felix grunted, pounding his hips into mine as he knocked my waist against the edge of the table. “I can tell that you’re close.”

But it was still the first time that I had ever come on command, and I screamed his name when I fell apart around his pulsating erection, feeling him continue to move inside of me until he was satisfied as well - cum dripping down my thighs.

“Remember this moment,” Felix said. “Because I know you aren’t attracted to him, and I know that you aren’t serious about an engagement.”

“I’m not,” I said, leaning back into his weight as he brought us to the floor, allowing my dress to fall into place as he held me tightly in his arms. “Nobody could ever replace you, Felix.”

“Because you’re mine,” Felix purred, and he was more pliant after being sated, sharing his deepest feelings as we resigned ourselves to the undeniable love that had followed us ever since our very first meeting on a warm, spring afternoon.

It was such a beautiful recollection, and I found myself crying in Felix’s arms as he shushed me quietly. “I don’t want to marry him,” I said. “But what else can I do?”

“I know, my love,” Felix said, and he was so gentle as he carded his fingers through my hair - knotted from his rough touches earlier. “It pains me to see you like this, but I might have a way to prevent your suffering.”

“It’s never easy,” I said, and Felix smiled when he wiped away my tears. “I can’t turn down his ships.”

“Then marry him, Y/N,” he said, ignoring the way that I shivered. “I’ll handle the rest.”

I swallowed hard at his ominous promise. “What will you do to him?”

“It won’t involve your hand,” Felix said. “Leave it to me, my sweet queen. I’ll make sure that your heart never hurts this way again.”

I lifted my head to meet his familiar gaze, and I saw the determination right in front of me. It was reassuring, and I carefully nodded because I would always trust Felix with my life.

One Month Later

I would always recall the winter’s morning when I set sail across the narrow sea to meet my destiny in King’s Landing.

Our enormous fleet of ships proved to be an imposing force as we started sailing across the waters - leaving behind Essos with my armies attending to their duties. The departure of our forces marked an entire month since I had married Lord Park in a private ceremony in view of the officials and his close friends and family. He had whispered to me during our first dance together - talking about how he was going to put a child inside me.

Yet, that very same night, he could only penetrate the tip of his disgusting cock before a familiar hand was slicing across his throat - using a knife made of Valyrian steel to end Lord Park’s life. I remembered that there had been so much blood - draining from the terrible man in rivulets of crimson until he collapsed next to me face-down into the mattress. He continued to convulse as he struggled while Felix knelt in his place - wiping the blood from his skin and looking down at me with a desperate hunger.

The news of Lord Park’s death traveled quickly, and I played the part of a distraught housewife who described the masked assassin who had snuck into our room and killed my poor husband. There was nobody to doubt me, especially when I called my dragons to the official hearing, and their intimidating presence was enough to cement my lie. And since all of Lord Park’s estate belonged to me, I could still claim his ships and wealth - using everything to catalyze my impending journey across the narrow sea.

I was the ruthless queen who had survived death itself, and my reputation was even more formidable than it was before. There was nothing left to stop me, and I breathed in the scent of the ocean as I leaned against the banister of the impressive warship. From next to me, Felix stood tall with his long, silver hair billowing in the breeze.

“We’ll be there before sunrise,” I said, closing my eyes as I envisioned my arrival.

“Its yours for the taking, my queen,” Felix replied, and I trembled when his fingers followed the path of my spine.

“Yes,” I agreed. “It’s all mine!”

Felix smirked at my audacious declaration, and I held my head high as the land grew closer in the distance. Meanwhile, my dragons soared high above my ships and the army that would fight for their new queen and secure my rightful place on the Iron Throne.

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chalkrevelations · 4 years ago

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So, Word of Honor Ep 25, and I am not OK.

I don’t know what it is about Zhou Ye and her portrayal of Gu Xiang that has a direct line to my freakin’ heart, but I was once again legit distressed during this ep at the point when she starts breaking down - after being so brave and resolute and even flip about being Amethyst Fiend - when she starts talking about how she’s tried to find a way back to the human world, to be with Cao Weining, so she doesn’t have to be a lonely ghost anymore, and then again when she begs Xiao Lian and Shen Shen that after they kill her, they’ll just tell Cao Weining that she was killed in the conflict so he never knows who she really was. First of all, apparently when A-Xiang cries, I cry. This is the formula, show, and I suspect you’re going to deploy it again before this is all over. But second of all, Gu Xiang, you have got to let him know who you really are. They’re still clearly playing out the parallels of Wen Kexing and A-Xiang, as well as the Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu relationship with the Gu Xiang/Cao Weining relationship, giving us through the male/female pair a more explicit version of what the other two can only hint at because of censorship. We see this not only in the repeated mirroring of themes, including the refusal to let the lover know who they are, but in repetition of actual dialogue, including Wen Kexing talking about fate now giving him a path back to the human world, when he’s at Qin Huaizhang’s gravesite. Because of this, I don’t expect Wen Kexing to come clean anytime soon, based on A-Xiang’s actions. He’s still way too terrified of getting what he wants.

And that’s the main premise of this ep, I think, pressing really hard on these two relationships as being the same relationship. I also do love how increasingly comfortable Gu Xiang and Cao Weining are with each other, physically, the way they’ll grab each other’s hands, particularly as a way of emphasizing how important what they’re saying is, when words apparently aren’t enough, and it makes me think back to the ep when they almost-but-not-quite touched index fingers before being so overcome they had to practically jump away from each other. I really liked the writing and directing decision to put so much of the screen time and focus on them during the fight between Shen Shen and Tao Hong/Lv Liu, because frankly, that’s what I care about and what I want to see – how far Gu Xiang has come in being able to admit to herself and how she’s now able to show - even when others can see – how much she cares about this guy. She’s so worried about him – so worried that she’ll eventually give herself up, even when she knows what’s going to happen when she goes to Broken Sword Manor for help and gets recognized. “How can he live alone after I leave,” she thinks, and that’s not a theoretical, not something that’s going to happen someday in the future – I feel like she actually expected this to be the point when she lost him, but she’s come so far in this relationship that now, she’d rather lose him than have him die. Just stab me in the heart again, show. It’s fine.

Now, A-Xiang (and by proxy, WEN KEXING), you need to let him know all of who you are.

A couple of other random things:

We start the ep with WKX being the emo-est, again - sighing mournfully and standing around in the rain because he couldn’t sleep. (That’s because you’re not being honest with your boyfriend, dumbass.) On discovering him, ZZS basically proposes to him, immediately looks like oh shit I said it out loud, and WKX literally gasps. Out loud. My dudes. You are a couple of merciless killers. How are you this fucking adorable?

Probably significantly, I notice that Wen Kexing still has that Ghost Valley red sticking out from under and belting his pinkie pink robes that match the Four Seasons winter plum forest.

Oh, maaaaan, Wen Kexing’s horrified face at the idea that the dead watch over the living and so they may have seen what he’s been doing to claw his way to the top of Ghost Valley.

Finally, I cannot believe I’m actually continuing to see such blatant product placement in Fantasy Ancient China with my own two eyes. I realize that Wolong nuts have showed up before, but this was so clearly an advertisement that I couldn’t believe it. Kudos to Gong Jun for managing to deliver that ad script with a straight face, I guess.

#zhou ye #gu xiang #cao weining #wen kexing #zhou zishu #word of honor #word of honor episode reax

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multifandom-girlie · 5 years ago

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𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞

Imagine requested by @stelenauniverse: You surprise him with lingerie.

Pairings: Stefan x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Words: 1277

For the last four years, you and Stefan have been the relationship that all your friends envied. Mainly because of how perfect we are for each other and they say the other things as well like, the cute dates, the random I love you's, lack of arguing and how sweet we are to each other.

There's one problem though and nobody knows about. I love that man more than anything but when he tells me his "fantasies" it makes me feel un-confident. It's not that I don't want to but I just don't want to disappoint him by doing it wrong.

I made a plan though. Today's our four year anniversary and we're staying in this year and I'm cooking him dinner. I also told him I have a surprise for him. So if I back out now, I'm not going to have anything to surprise him with.

This morning when we woke up he made me breakfast in bed and before he left gave me money to get myself some things. Just because I payed for his car to be fixed up the other day, since Damon crashed it drunk driving. I also know how much he love's that car.

So I decided to have a girls day and we were having a normal day until we came across Victoria Secret, that's when the sentence Stefan said to me keeps replaying. He doesn't know that he told me, since he was drunk when he did.

Your so incredibly sexy. If you wore lingerie though....

So I decided it was a good idea. What can go wrong really ? So I bought some really sexy lingerie.

I have already cooked dinner, I'll just need to reheat it later. I set up candles all over the house and put my robe on.

I was just cleaning up a little before Stefan got home, when I heard the door open. I was picking things up in the living room because I had the girls over earlier and it's always a mess after.

I heard Stefan sit on the couch behind me. I couldn't help but wonder if he could see the lingerie up my robe or not. I asked him to get up quick whilst I sorted the sofa out, I was bent over slightly. He placed his hands on my waist and closed the space between us.

I had tingles driving through me, as I felt his slightly hardened cock resting on my plump, barely-covered ass. I stood straight again and turned around wrapping my arms around his neck before kissing him lovingly.

"Happy anniversary to you too, beautiful."

This is it. The moment I've been so nervous about is going to happen.

"That's not all I have for you."

I looked up at him innocently and bit my lip a little. I pushed him on the couch and told him to close your eyes.

"I bought something for you earlier, I wanted to know what you think. Be honest."

I untied the robe and threw it at him.

"Open your eyes baby."

He opened them not fully knowing what to expect. By the looks of his gawking jaw and lust filled eyes he likes it.

"Do you like it ?"

"Like it ? No. I love it beautiful."

I giggled slightly and sat on his lap and started to kiss his neck. I heard him softly moan and the sound make my nipples harder and my pussy wetter.

I kissed him deeply whilst clutching onto his neck and grinding on him. I took his t-shirt off and threw it across the room. The next thing I felt was his fingers on one of my soft spots on my spine. He then started the place sloppy kisses on my neck and collarbone. He un-clipped the strap around my neck and kissed my exposed top half all over. Going down the valley of my breasts and driving towards the already hardened buds, centering my breasts.

I started to get really turned on. I was lacking in control. Which was weird, normally it was him losing control so badly. Although, looking at his closed eyes and hearing the bassy groans coming from his throat he had.

So I got off him and let the lingerie fall to my feet and make a puddle of lace on the floor. I sat back on him and ground on him again. I started to kiss him some more and I worked on his belt at the same time. I got it off and sat it beside us, the jeans being next to come down leaving him in his boxers.

I ripped his boxers down his legs and I threw myself back on top of him. I rubbed his red tip against my lower lips to wet it. Once I had I positioned myself on top of him and sank down on him. I drove myself back and forth and moved up and down again on his cock his big, thick shaft hitting my spot every second . My breasts moving in sync with me riding him.

His groans echoed around the whole apartment, whilst mine were struggling to be confined. My hands clutched his hair tighter. Which made his groans louder. He then lifted me up as he walked towards the dining table.I was turned around and he pushed my front against the isolated top. My breasts were pressed against the cold glass, adding to my already erratic heartbeat. His dick rubbed the entrance of my wet heat and ever so slowly, pushed in. The thick girth of his length, almost instantaneously filling me up. His red top brushing up my walls with every thrust, urging me closer to orgasm. His pace quickened dramatically. It went from slow, almost romantic love making too rough, lustful sex. His big - in comparison to mine - hands glued to my hips and he held me stationary as he advanced at an unimaginable speed. The only sounds being heard, was the slapping of our hips and my gentle screams.

We did this for quite a while until I could feel him throbbing in me, alerting me he's about to release. I struggled because it felt so good, but I did manage to levitate myself. I sunk to my knees in front of him and kissed his tip. My mouth widened and my bruised lips suffocated his big cock. I started to suck, I swirled my tongue around the head of the penis and licked the pre cum from off his slit.

I sucked harder, making a similar resemblance to my warm, wet core. His tepid seed was swimming down my throat and trickling down his cock and my chin. I licked up all of it until he pinned me under him on the couch and kissed me, unexpectedly driving his fingers into me. The smooth pads of his fingers, stroked my wet clit. Edging me closer, his now damp fingers pounded into my vagina relentlessly. Hitting my sweet spot every time. He smirked. He always loved making we writhe beneath him. He never fails to make me feel in another world. I wrapped my legs tighter around him, tensing because of feeling my up and coming orgasm. When he knew I was so close to orgasm, he pulled his fingers out suddenly and replaced them by thrusting his member back into me with no warning.

I finally came all over his throbbing dick and threw my head back in pleasure. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him lovingly.

"Happy anniversary baby, hope you liked it !"

He kissed me passionately.

"I love you."

OUTFIT

MASTERLIST

#the vampire diaries #imagines #tvd imagine #the originals #to imagine #tvd #stefan x reader #stefan salvatore #stefan salvatore smut

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whatisthisidefk · 4 years ago

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The River, the Sea, and the Stars Part 3 (SFW version)

***

Andros danced with him in a wooded glade, willow weeds flowing like curtains around them. It was a wild dance, with no real steps, but they laughed and whirled around each other, hands clasped, until Andros pulled him close and kissed him. They fell to their knees on the mossy ground, then tumbled to lie under the moon in each other's arms.

Andros fought the choppy waves alongside him; they both needed every ounce of strength to make headway in the icy water. They reached the black rocks at the edge of the shore and hauled each other up to shiver in the early morning air. Andros tucked a lock of hair behind Therien's ear and leaned in to kiss him, salty like the sea.

Andros held him, golden skin reflecting the red of the fire beside them. Therien held him back, his arms wrapped around Andros's waist.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you," said Andros.

"I'm going to find you," he said.

Andros laughed, and said, "I'm waiting."

Therien woke.

The little room was cold and still, muffled from the outside world. If he closed his eyes, Therien thought he truly could be back in Provence. He'd felt removed from the world there, too. In those days, there hadn't been an Andros, nor a Dra, nor an American scholarship. All he'd had were a doting set of adoptive parents and a joy of swimming.

Grey morning light filtered through the thin paper blind and turned everything into a muted palette of cool greys and washed-out reds and blues. It felt like the air before a snowstorm, though it was far too early in the season for that.

Dra hadn't been joking. The dreams had been vivid and so real; he had to shake his head to dispel them. He'd never danced with Andros or made love to him like that, but they felt less like fantasies and more like memories.

If only.

He swung his legs off the bed and stretched. A hunt through his suitcase found him a clean change of clothes, though he figured he'd need to do laundry soon. Jeans and a t-shirt, with a hoodie from an international competition made it onto his body before he felt alive enough to emerge from his room.

"I'm awake," he called into the apartment. "Bonjour, Dra."

"Bonjour," came her reply from behind the rightmost door in the hall. "Go freshen up and I'll meet you in the living room shortly."

"Merci." He found the bathroom behind the middle door, or what he supposed was the bathroom. It was hard to tell under the forest of houseplants that grew in pots from every corner. Even the freestanding iron tub was surrounded not by a shower curtain, but a literal curtain of broad-leafed vines.

Therien caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked like hell, though better than he had the day before. He'd need a shave, but that could wait, as his kit was buried somewhere in his bag in the other room. He did manage to tame his unruly black curls into some semblance of fashionable and skimmed his hands over the short fade at the back and sides.

He scrubbed at his face with the washcloth. He hadn't properly washed since before the banquet, when he'd put on a hint of gold eyeliner to accentuate his eyes. Whatever brand it was, it lived up to its claims of staying power. He enjoyed the contrast against his dark olive skin and he'd wanted to feel as attractive as possible for whatever would happen with Andros.

That thought drove him to wash it off, as if that could wash away the fear and worry that still roiled in his gut. But once it was gone, he only felt more vulnerable, so he made a decision.

He dug through his suitcase to find the small toiletries bag and the eyeliner pen, then marched back to the bathroom to carefully apply the shimmering gold ink to his eyes again as if it was some kind of armor. When he finished, he stepped back.

Now he was ready.

***

Dra gave him an appraising look when she finally emerged from her own room. "Nice job on the eyes," was all she said, before she dumped an armload of things into the center of the living room floor. "Grab us each a cuppa, would you, love? Should be done steeping by now."

"What is all this for?" he asked, nudging a small hand axe with his foot as he went to the kitchen. "I thought we were going to find Andros. Are we camping?"

"In a way, yes. I hope you remember your time as an Éclaireur. You'll need it."

"I never told you about that, did I?" He handed her a teacup and sat on the ottoman to watch her sort through the pile.

"Oh, you most certainly did! 'Éclaireurs--Toujours Prêt!'" She laughed. "It was some college mixer where we had to tell things about ourselves. You were adorable, with your accent and your big eyes taking everything in."

"How you recall my scout motto after all this time is beyond me."

She shrugged a shoulder. "It was one of those phrases that stick in your mind. Once I learned it, it became a kind of chant. I liked how it sounded." She held up an old leather knapsack, the kind that would fetch hundreds of dollars at auction for its patina and excellent construction. Knowing Dra, she'd found it in some bargain bin at a thrift shop. "Here, you can have this one. We need to pack fairly light, but I don't want to be without a few comforts. You carry the firestarters, that little bag there."

Within an hour, the entire pile had been dispersed and neatly packed away between them. Therien had been given a belt--well, two belts, as one of Dra's was too small even for his narrow hips--and from it hung an array of bags and pouches of medical supplies, the hand axe, a multitool, and a wickedly sharp hunting knife that made Therien nervous. The satchel held the firestarters, a change of socks and underwear, and Therien's toiletries bag. Dra insisted that leaving a little space would be handy later, so he didn't argue.

Dra carried a similar set of tools, though she also added a variety of oilcloth bags of teas and herbs. Several vials of oils from the shop clinked in one of the square pouches on her own belt, and a coiled rope was fastened to her waist. Therien thought they rather looked like they were heading to a medieval faire rather than going to rescue his erstwhile boyfriend, and he told her so as they descended the stairs from her apartment into the empty shop below.

"That, my love, is because you don't know where we're going." They stood in the center of the shop, in a clear spot on the creaky wood floor. "I'm going to show you first, and then I can answer any of your questions. All right? Good. Now, stand back behind me. I need to concentrate."

Dra closed her eyes with a centering breath. She drew a large circle in the air and muttered something too softly for Therien to hear, then thrust both of her hands before her, crossing her arms straight out, fingers spread wide as she braced her legs as if against a strong wind. Her words came louder, more urgently, until she opened her eyes and flung her arms open.

With that motion, the air rippled and a faint sizzle of blue light scribed a circle before them.

Its edge rested on the floor like a tall oval mirror, but through it, instead of the opposite wall of the shop, Therien could see a wooded place, carpeted in yellow leaves. The scent of autumn came through and a breeze ruffled their hair. Therien felt weak in the knees. This shouldn't be real. It couldn't be real.

But then he remembered those golden chains stealing Andros away, and he decided that this was no less impossible.

"Step through," said Dra, her voice tight. "I can't hold this up for too long. I'm right behind you."

He wanted to hang back, but he made his feet start moving. Passing through the portal gave him a sense of vertigo, but once both feet were on the other side, it passed. He looked over his shoulder to see Dra stepping through after him. The image of the shop wavered as soon as she fully came through, then closed like an aperture and vanished.

Dra glanced around. "Not as close as I wanted to be, but it will do. This way." She strode in a seemingly random direction, though she moved with purpose. Even with his much longer legs, Therien had to hurry to catch up with her.

"Where...is this place?" he asked, looking around. "How did you do that? What was that??"

She laughed but kept walking. "That was a portal. It cuts down on travel time like you wouldn't believe." She paused, adjusted her direction, and continued along whatever path she perceived. "And we're in upstate New York."

He stopped in his tracks. "Wait--what?"

"You can't get to the Feywild directly," she called over her shoulder. "But there are places where you can pass through the veil, and this is the one I know best. Keep up, sweetheart!"

"The Fey...what?" None of it made sense, but he tried gamely to follow his friend. At least she seemed to know what she was doing.

The area they hiked through was hilly and cold, colder than Northampton had been. After an hour of endless trees and falling leaves, Dra called for a short break. They sat on a large, flat rock at the top of the hill they'd just climbed, and Dra handed him one of her homemade granola bars. "We're almost there. I should tell you about a few things before we cross over."

"That sounds ominous." As if Therien hadn't seen and experienced actual magic just that morning. But he was trying, so hard, to accept everything as it came.

Dra took pity on him. "I know this is hard to grasp, and we don't have a lot of time to go over everything. But I'm going to prepare you as much as I can." She shifted to face him. "Andros and I...we're Fey. We live human lives, but we weren't born here. We came from the Feywild, and that's where we need to go now."

"Both of you?"

"Yeah, what are the odds, right? Northampton is a hub for all sorts of weird and mystical things. That's why I settled there, and that's why Andros was drawn there to UMASS for the swim team. I mean, there are schools with better programs, but no others that promised him the shelter he needed."

Therien frowned. "You were both my best friends," he said. "How did I not know?"

"He and I figured it out not long after we met, and we promised to watch out for each other." She looked down at her hands, turning them over and flexing her fingers. "We both cared for you, you know. He begged me not to tell you because it's never good for a mortal to get tangled up in Fey politics."

"And yet--"

She shrugged ruefully. "And yet, here we are. Now, I come and go as I please, though not often these days. Andros, though...he was always running from something. That's why he took the name he did. Andros Kaitos. It's Greek, for 'man who runs away'."

"That wasn't even his real name." Therien took a shaky breath. "How much else didn't I know about him?"

"Not much," she reassured him. "Everyone has secrets, even you. But he was usually an open book with you, bar the obvious. And," she put a hand on his arm, "he loved you. Loves, I mean. I wouldn't be doing this at all if I didn't think it was worth the risk to both of you."

He covered her hand with his. "I know. Go on. I want to be ready for whatever happens."

She leaned back on her elbows and looked up at the trees. Therien couldn't hear any traffic sounds, just the wind in the canopy above and the calls of songbirds, the rustle of dry leaves on the ground.

"Andros had an assigned place in the Feywild. He was created to be a river guardian. You see them in Greek myth a lot, and I suspect that's where his story began. River guardians come in many forms, depending on their origins, and some don't conform to any particular country's lore. In general, though, they manage a certain river or stream, and they're meant to be tied to that place at all times. Andros, though--he just couldn't sit still. And the Court to which he belonged was not known for kindness. He loved being in your world."

"So he ran away," Therien said, a question. Dra nodded.

"He escaped," she clarified. "Honestly, I'm surprised he avoided capture as long as he did. He never set down roots anywhere because he was terrified he'd be found."

Therien toyed with a leaf that blew across his foot. "It's my fault, then."

"No, no," Dra insisted, "Darling, it's not--"

"It is," he cut her off. "He said it himself that night. He'd let his guard down. That's because I caught him by surprise."

Dra studied him for a moment. "That might be," she said at length, "but it's still not on you. It was bound to happen one day. At least he's not alone, you know? Imagine if he'd been found before you could tell each other about your feelings. Imagine if he'd just disappeared without anyone around!" She glanced away. "If he'd just vanished, you might not have thought to call me. You wouldn't have learned about any of this."

He tried to imagine it, as she said. What if he hadn't been there? What if Andros had just not shown up for practice, or if they'd never spoken of their feelings? He probably wouldn't have been frantic enough to reach out to her in a moment of need. "You're right," he said aloud.

"Of course I am." She pushed herself off the rock and brushed her legs down. "Okay. Once we reach the top of the mountain, I'll need you to step only in my footsteps. That's how things work."

"Oui, mon amie."

She kept up her lecture as they resumed their walk up the hill. "The Feywild is a beautiful place, but it's called wild for a reason. Things can be as deadly as they are pleasing to the eye, and trickery abounds. There are strict rules in place that may not be broken, and that has caused the Fey folk to learn and exploit every loophole imaginable."

The hill steepened, and Dra slipped a little on the leaves. Therien helped her stand, and stayed by her in case it happened again. Even at his current peak fitness level, Therien found himself breathing hard over those last few yards to the top of the hill.

Or ravine, he realized, looking back at the way they had come. The disturbed leaves showed their passing, the path stretching down and out of sight between the trees.

But when he turned around, the scene ahead made him gasp. Aside from the slight marring of the countryside by a row of power lines and a distant cell phone tower, he could see for miles of rolling hills that turned into mountains at the horizon. The valley floor was carpeted with trees in hues of orange, yellow, brown, and occasionally red. A pair of eagles sailed above in great circles, and a flock of crows took flight and resettled not far off.

If the entrance to the fey realm was anywhere, surely this seemed as good a place as any.

Dra tugged at his arm. "This way. Remember, step in my footsteps exactly. Even if it seems silly or redundant. Got it?"

"Got it." His heart pounded. He trusted Dra. He trusted her. He had to.

She checked behind her with each step to be sure he was following her instructions. They walked toward an apparently random tree, but then circled around it to the right--counterclockwise--until they crossed their original path. Dra wove them between a series of saplings and hopped over a pointed stone that stuck out of the ground. The next tree they approached, they went around clockwise and continued toward a natural arch formed of a fallen tree caught in the crook of another.

"Through that," said Dra, startling him, "and we'll be in the Feywild." She glanced up at him and held out her hand. "Ready?"

"I trust you."

The corner of her mouth quirked up. "I'll take that as a yes. Let's go save your boyfriend."

They walked through.

***

#river sea stars #jenny writes #original fiction

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #406

“turned on all the lights, the tv, and the radio / still, i can’t escape the ghost of you”

Have you ever had an ulcer? No. Do you have any rare medical conditions? I believe AvPD is considered to be a rare mental disorder. Do you have to carry an epi pen? No. What color is your mailbox? I think it's black. I don't pay attention. Would you ever want a job working with animals? I'd love to. The thing is, without a degree in something, my duties working with animals would almost certainly involve cleaning up after them, which I am WAY too squeamish with fecal matter and vomit to do. It's extremely embarrassing, but I've never even been able to clean up after my own pets if they ever had an accident or got sick. I obviously couldn't do it with random animals. Did you have a good high school experience? It's... so odd, retrospecting on high school. In some ways, it was the best time of my life because of my memories with my friends and especially Jason, but at the time, I absolutely loathed it and was horribly depressed. But at least I saw a future for myself. I took better care of myself, all that stuff... That Brittany would be fucking mortified to get a glimpse at who she becomes. Have you ever watched any Monty Python movies? Which one is your favourite? I know I've seen some of at least one. Would you ever get a "below the belt" piercing? Nah. If a couple is married, do you think there should be any legal punishment if one person cheats? No...? Like don't get me wrong at all, I am firmly against cheating under any circumstance, but for there to be legal retribution seems extreme. What is the greatest source of anxiety for you? My future. Are there any hallucinogenic drugs you’d like to try? Nah man. What made you choose your current job? I'm unemployed. Do you feel uncomfortable on the dance floor? Or are you confident with you dancing abilities? Oh hunny, you won't see me on the dance floor. Unless MAYBE if the Cha-Cha Slide comes on, or the Cupid Shuffle. That's as skilled as I get, haha. Is it exciting to you to imagine having an affair with a teacher? ... No??????????? It's fucking creepy. Adultery isn't exciting. Do you like your smile? No. I absolutely look high when I smile. What is something silly that you believed to be true when you were a child? That I could invoke the traits of any animal, which I just referred to as my "animal powers." Like for example, if I "called upon" a kangaroo, I could jump higher. I was a weird fucking kid. Have you ever been in a relationship with someone you completely connected with on a mental/emotional level, but did not find physically attractive in any way? Was physical intimacy a problem? How did it work out? I was never really physically attracted to Girt, but it was never a big deal to me. I cared way more about his personality and how much he cared about me. We were never really "intimate," per se, we just would give each other a simple peck. It didn't work out, but not at all because of physical things. He was just too much of a brother to me. What classic or cult movie have you never seen and have no desire to? Hm. I know there's some, but I'm blanking. Does The Human Centipede count here? Like everyone knows about it, so I would assume it does. I have ZERO desire to see a second of that repulsive movie. Have you ever taken a real liking to a band/singer you never ever....ever thought you'd enjoy? Maybe Melanie Martinez? Her voice is so cutesy, as are some of her songs, but I really enjoy how dark her lyrics can be. People who know me would probably be shocked to hear I thoroughly like her. After seeing the movie Avatar did you suddenly view our Earth as ugly and/or boring? If you have not seen the movie, do you think it’s worth your time? I've seen a little bit of it, but I never finished it because I was very tired and chose to go to sleep. I actually do want to see the full thing, though; it looks very good. How helpful are your parents to you? Would they help you to pay for your first apartment? College? Where does the line end? My parents are truly incredible with helping me the best they are capable of. They helped me pay for school, among other things, but I doubt they'd help with my first home, whenever that is. I wouldn't really want them to, either, because that's my responsibility for sure. Do you like playing video games? If so, what do you usually play? I love video games, and horror is absolutely my favorite genre. I also love fantasy games though with deep stories. I've never been the best at playing super long games, like Final Fantasy games, even if I'm seriously invested in the story, though. I burn out. Have you ever sewn a garment? No. Are there any plants in the room you’re in? No. I don't bother with plants. What’s your highest level of education? Some college. What’s the most important thing in any kind of relationship? Proper communication, probably. If you wear lipstick, what’s your favourite colour to wear? I only really put on lipstick to occasionally take a picture, and it's pretty much always black. Is your style feminine, masculine or somewhere in the middle? Somewhere in the middle, I guess? Are there a lot of dragonflies around your house? I've never seen one around this house, and I doubt I ever will because it's too urban. When we lived in the woods, however, I saw them a lot. Of all the Disney couples, which one would you say is your favorite? Kovu and Kiara came to my mind first. Do you think it is cute/funny or disgraceful when a child swears? It's shocking, more than anything. You don't expect it. I don't believe it should be encouraged, but only because children just don't know when swearing really isn't appropriate. If/when you have a baby, how do you think you would want to decorate its room? I don't want kids, but I'll entertain the question and assume this is before the child is born and develops interests. Whether it's a boy or a girl, I'd probably go with a cutesy animal theme. Would you more likely buy a shirt with a picture of Mickey/Minnie Mouse, a Winnie the Pooh character, Snoopy, Hello Kitty, or Tweety Bird on it? None, honestly. Perhaps like, a gothic Hello Kitty. Of all the states you have been to, which one did you have the best experiences? Putting aside the AWFUL heat and humidity, I probably had the best time in Florida. I loved all the palm trees, seeing so many lizards on my grandma's patio, and going to Disney World was a blast. I liked that swimming pools were always warm, too. Have you ever had a crush on someone “too young” for you? No. Do you regret losing your virginity to who you lost it to? No. I was madly in love with him, so no regrets on that. If your boyfriend ever hit you, would you dump him? HA, BYYYYEEEEEEEEE MOTHERFUCKER. ZERO hesitation. Did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize? He did, but I honestly don't know if he meant it. Is there anything you want to say to someone? It'll probably go unsaid for the rest of my life. If they were to televise a live execution, would you watch it? Yikes, hard pass. If you could be the president of the USA, would you be willing to do it? Noooo thank you. Did you wake up in the middle of the night? I always do. Does your animal sleep with you? My cat does. Venus obviously sleeps in her terrarium, but she is in my room. Last color you dyed your hair? Red. Will you keep your last name when you get married? Very unlikely. I don't like my last name. What are you looking forward to? Hearing back again from the woman whose wedding I shot literally two years ago. I thought she ghosted me, but she messaged me the other day about seeing the pictures again and going through them to actually buy some. I don't know why the hell it took her two years, but whatever, I guess? I spent two whole hours resizing the files and re-adding the preview watermark (I deleted the OneDrive folder for space forever ago, but I have the files still), so I hate to sound like an ass, but she better buy something. Between sweating my ass off on location when I shot the wedding, editing those 100+ pictures two years ago, and now re-doing the previews, I have invested so much goddamn time into them that yeah, I think I have the right to be pretty damn salty if I don't hear back from her again. If your significant other cut sex out of your relationship for any reason, what would you do? It'd be whatever. I mean sure, that sort of intimacy is a very special part of serious romantic relationships to me, but I can live without it pretty easily. What was the last thing you said out loud? "Thank you for dinner" to my mom. She brought home Hardee's. Who are your godparents? I don't believe I have any. Do you like Gushers? omggggg yes Can you touch your nose with your tongue? No. Is there a particular sport you follow on a regular basis? Nope. Are you waiting for something to arrive in the mail? No. Think of the last film you watched. Who was your favourite character? Uhhhh what was it... The Shining, I think? I didn't really develop a favorite. Do you have a friend whose name starts with ‘L’? Describe him/her. Lisa. <3 She's one of my WoW friends. She'll talk your ear off, but I don't really mind. She is SO sweet and caring for other people and loves to cook. She recently had triplets, and seeing as she had a son only months before accidentally getting pregnant with the triplets, she's obviously been MEGA busy so we haven't talked much lately. When you’re being kissed do you like it when they hold your face? Yeah, but not too early on. Doing that has a promise of seriousness and passion in it to me, and it would probably weird me out if that happened too soon. Last thing that made you cry? My health. Would you ever consider getting a piercing in your septum? Nah. I don't think it would look good on me. Do you enjoy being outdoors? If it's cool outside and I have a place to sit when I want to, yeah. Do people tell you that you have an accent? Only sometimes. It's definitely not as bad as your average Southerner, though. Do you enjoy watching fireworks on the 4th of July? Ha, what nice timing. I think they're very pretty, but I believe I went over in a recent survey how I don't encourage their usage in consideration of veterans with PTSD as well as being conscious of animals and the absolute terror it can cause for them. What’re some unspeakable subjects for you? So my sister is a children's social worker, and she shares a LOT of stories with Mom (and me, if I'm present) that I can't listen to. The ones that involve pedophilia and/or rape, especially from the child's very own parent(s), I just cannot listen to. Period. It's so fucking repulsive and just unimaginable to me how even a monster of a human can commit something THAT goddamn vile. What’s your opinion of root beer? I'm not a big fan. I mean I can tolerate drinking some of it, but I don't really *enjoy* it. Have you ever seen The Breakfast Club, and what’s your opinion of it? I have, and I didn't get the appeal at all. Did you have a Furby when you were younger? Oh god, I did. Those things are so creepy. If you had a baby boy, what would you name him? Damien, most likely.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''the ordinary world'' by the hit house

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nautiscarader · 6 years ago

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Marichat - 2. Hesitate

Nautiscarader’s Smutember 2 - hesitate

(<<Prev) (Ao3) (Next>>)

Marichat, (ML, E

===========================

- Ch-Chat!

Marinette’s voice filled her room, as her lover’s tongue lapped at her exposed folds, making her cries mix with the slow music that seeped from the speakers plugged to her phone. Chat Noir’s guttural purrs and groans only added the base to the carnal symphony, generated by his steady caresses.

With a strong grip on her thighs, Chat dived between her legs, making sure to cover each inch of her wet sex, as well as all nearby places that made her jitter from excitement. Adrien gladly explored more and more of her body, mapping it as meticulously as he could, making sure to remember which areas resulted in Marinette’s voice cracking the most.

- Chat!

His ears twitched, as he suddenly realised his lover’s plea had a note of annoyance, and he perched up from her sex to meet her smiling face.

- Is there something wrong, purrincess? - No, no, kitty…

She dug her fingers into his hair, and pulled him towards her, while he peppered her exposed chest, circling his cat tongue around her nipples, which made her arch her back. Chat used that opportunity to sneak her arms underneath her and slide his body onto hers in a single, graceful move. She opened her mouth when she felt him brush her folds, and subconsciously closed her legs behind his back, while his lips pressed against hers.

While she couldn’t argue that the long and passionate kiss was more than pleasing, she still had one issue on her mind she wanted to address, and she broke the intimate connection with her half-naked lover.

- Chat… I’ve been meaning to ask you… - she shied away for a moment - You know that now we don’t have to worry about my parents, right? - I do. - he smiled with a charming, cocky grin - Just your roommate that would looove to get a scoop on Chat Noir’s love life. - Don’t worry about her, Alya’s with her boyfriend. - she cupped his face - But… You know you can get a little… rougher, right?

Chat raised his eyebrows, as he leaned up over Marinette’s naked body.

- Is my purrincess ready for it? - Maybe the princess doesn’t want to be a princess anymore…

Marinette spread her arms and wriggled on her bed, twisting her body in a seductive, hypnotising, snake-like move that only made Adrien’s mouth water. Marinette arched her body and turned around, exposing her naked bum to the superhero sitting in the legs of her bed and wriggled her cheeks, hoping beyond belief to feel Chat’s hands on them.

Instead, she felt his lips again, placing delicate, butterfly kisses all over it, and she let out an impatient groan, pushing her back higher, until she had to pull back, knowing that making love in such position would cause more problems than pleasure.

She let out a yelp, when Chat dragged his claw against her skin, that got covered in goosebumps almost immediately. Her groans turned into wails and chirps, and the lack of visual contact only made her shiver in anticipation.

- Does my princess want that…? - Chat’s deep, but sweet voice rang somewhere behind her head - Does my princess want to be… punished…? - Oh, yes! - Marinette cried without thinking.

This was a fantasy she has had on her mind for quite some time, and could never verbalise it, but as soon as Chat spoke those words, her reply escaped her mouth before she had chance to tone it down. She turned around and Met Chat’s slightly surprised eyes, though as soon as he saw the flirtatious spark in hers, Chat grinned and stroked her bum again.

- Well, as you wish, princess. - Don’t hesitate, Chat…

Marinette mentally prepared herself for the pain she could feel in her nether regions, but instead, she shrieked, when she was thrown into a different world. Her ears were filled with a strong and lout guitar riff, her vision became a blur for a moment, and when she landed on her back again, her arms were pushed up and propped against the long heating pipe in the corner of her small room.

She looked up and spotted Chat’s leathery tail, that on so many occasions was an intricate part of her fantasies, tied around her wrists, immobilising her and leaving on the mercy of her lover. When Chat finished fiddling with the playlist on her phone, he walked on all fours towards her, his pose and look in his eyes emanating with hunger.

Though she couldn’t move, Chat made sure to put the mountain of pillows into the corner as well, making sure her half-sitting position was more than comfortable. And Marinette very quickly learned why. His claws dug into thighs, and she unceremoniously pushed her twitching legs up and onto his shoulders, before he leaned onto her and plunged himself deep inside her without any warning.

Marinette let out a cry that was silenced with his mouth immediately and for a moment, she was forced to breathe the hot breaths Chat was expelling from his mouth, as he panted with each forceful push. She didn’t even mind the rubbery, alien feel of the condom, as the ferocity with which her lover filled her made up for it tenfold. As he pressed her legs against her body in near-vertical fashion, he was able to stimulate parts of her sex he never previously has, making Marinette let out wail after wail.

- Is… Is this what you wanted? - he whispered, leaning onto her. - Yes! - she cried in response, wishing she could close her arms or legs around him, the frustration of her position only adding another wave of shiver onto her skin.

Adrien moved his hips in sync of the aggressive music that filled her room, mixing with her cries and moans, and the sight of his usually shy girlfriend writhing and coiling under his forceful moves made him lose himself in the passion that only fuelled itself. He was used to making slow, passionate love to her, especially when she was still in high school, and lived with her parents, though he could definitely see why her new, student’s life made her crave for something different.

For a second, he wondered how Jagged Stone would react knowing the designer of his clothes and CD covers was making love to his music, but Marinette’ rising voice quickly put that random thought out of his mind. The blue-haired girl was babbling, as her mind was slowly going blank, and Adrien could only recognise his mangled name between cries and wails. Though he preferred keeping his grip on her legs, he sneaked his right hand between thier pressed bodies, and as his fingers crawled to her sex, Marinette’s voice grew in volume again, culminating when his clawed finger brushed her clit.

Without taking eyes from his lover, Chat let her left leg fall to the bed, though she curled it around his bum almost immediately, exerting at least a fraction of dominance, and gaining some security to contain her oncoming orgasm. Though Chat wished he could dedicate more time to her jewel, he knew this time a more direct approach is necessary; mashing his fingers against in a circling motion, he made Marinette throw her head back, or at least af far as she could, given her position. Through her words, he could finally recognise clear signs of her peak, and he doubled his efforts, wanting to finish simultaneously.

her free leg suddenly bucked his ass, and her whole, petite frame writhed and spasmed around him coating his lower costume, as well as her own bed with copious amount of her juices in an exploding orgasm that set her on fire, and continued to burn as she suddenly couldn’t dissipate the raw energy, with her hands still locked. As her body writhed in her temporary shackles, Marinette suddenly felt a different kind of warmth on her body. The discarded condom fell next to her, while Chat’s orgasm continued to pour and stain her abdomen, as his his hips bucked in animalistic, subconscious motion, marking her as his for a solid minute.

- Sorry about the mess, princess - Chat addressed her - That wasn’t too rough, was it?

Before hearing her answer, Chat undid the buckle of his belt and took Marinette’s hand in his own, placing a gentle kiss on each of her wrists.

- No, it wasn’t, Chaton. - she cupped his face and kissed him - It was great. - I didn’t want to punish you too hard, Marinette… - Chat dragged his hand across her bum and gave it a light spank - Mostly because, well, I’m not sure how hard should I be. - Aww, that’s so sweet. I’ll need to ask Alya, she and her boyfriend are a bit into it. Maybe she can teach you a thing of two? - I think that would destroy the whole “journalistic integrity”, wouldn’t it?

Chat raised his brow and gave Marinette a pack of tissues to clean herself up.

- She knows we’re a thing and yet, no word on Ladyblog about that. - Marinette smirked - Imagine, so many girls heartbroken…

Marinette leaned and closer her arms around Chat, bringing him down onto her bed, once again crashing her lips against his.

- Does my purrincess want me to be rough again? - Chat asked, stroking her waist. - Mhm-hm - she shook her head - I want all the cuddles in the world now. - I shall not hesitate…

#marichat #miracusin #miraculust #nautiscaraderfics

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a-lucha-brother · 5 years ago

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Fantasy-Booking Concept

A scenario in which Seth Rollins wins the WWE Championship off Drew at MITB and it actually benefiting both parties between Money In the Bank and Sumerslam:

So, as things stand, Seth should in no way shape or form win that title at MITB. As things stand, it hurts both guys more than it helps, and would most definitely anger the fans (not that WWE cares two hoots about us).

How can this be fixed? By simply adding more goons to Seth’s faction (at MITB). There’s already Murphy, but I think that Seth should also add The Forgotten Sons (it would have (and should have) still been AOP but they aren’t on tv for the long foreseeable future so their roles will be drastically changed) AND another mystery man as his “Lieutenant”, totaling his number of followers at 5, 6 including him.

Now, picture the scenario, Drew is kicking Seth’s ass all over the shop at MITB with little to no offence from Seth making any sort of distinct damage to Drew, so Murphy comes out and does enough distractions to allow Seth to hit Drew with a Stomp that he obviously kicks out of. Murphy is taken clean out by Drew here with a Claymore that turns him inside out. Seth then in a violent rage berates Drew for selfishly denying him what is his, to which Drew starts beating him down again. Only now Seth signals to the back again asking for help, which Drew laughs off saying how nobody cares and no one would follow a maniac like Seth. That is when The Forgotten Sons come out to Drew’s utter amazement. They spend a fairly decent amount of time fighting with Drew with mixed results while Seth recovers on the outside the entire time. After now taking significant amounts of damage, Drew finally manages to take out The Forgotten Sons, only for Seth to surprise attack him with another Stomp that he just manages to kick out of. After the two battered men sluggishly trade moves on each other, Drew somehow digs deep, using his Scottish power to once again topple Seth, only for a surprise interruption to happen:

Jinder Mahal

Now, I know that doesn’t sound like the most glamorous thing, but hear me out.

Like it or not, that guy was WWE Champion for a long-ass time, the guy’s a perfect Heel, has no beef with Seth, has HUGE history with Drew, and oh so desperately craves that WWE Championship after tasting its sweet nectar all that time again (which you write into the story was his driving motivation to train so hard to get back, to the point of madness).

This works also because he then essentially has the exact same motivations and beliefs (I guess) as Seth does. So as much as it is a shock for Drew but it’s also a shock for Seth cause he never knew this would happen.

Jinder comes down to the ring, face like thunder and batters into a heavily battered Drew. Now, we all know that if Drew were at 100% he’d paste Mahal, but he’s not at 100%, and Jinder knows Drew inside and out because of their time in 3MB (which WWE loves referencing but doing nothing with), and ends up overpowering him and countering him time and again before hitting him with The Khallas. He then drags Seth into the ring and tells him to take him. Seth looks at him confused before Stomping the hell out of Drew, winning the title all the while keeping his confused eyes on Jinder.

Next night on Raw, we get the answers as to why (stated above). And for once WWE remembers that it has a no instant rematch policy, so Drew instead decides he’s going to plow through each and every one of Seth’s disciples every week, which will eventually with his winning streak (because I unlike WWE remember that that is a thing they wanted to do to seem more sporty but haven’t bothered their arses with) being what allows him to get his hands on Seth. All good?

So he starts off with The Forgotten Sons, which will kill off 4 weeks of tv because you can easily write that as him facing them one at a time before having to face them collectively in a handicap match (which may damage TFS credibility, but if you’re smart you can make this work, with a little help from a certain angry Canadian man which I’ll get to later). Raw after MITB is May 11th, Backlash is the next ppv on June 14th, funnily enough FOUR whole weeks away.

All this while you can have Seth, Murphy and Jinder just beating random people up for fun, totally dominating their space.

At Backlash, Drew on his conquest gets to go toe-to-toe with Murphy (which I think you’ll all agree considering the storyline is ppv worthy for a show like Backlash, especially considering the theme). He obviously batters him, and then Seth and his goon squad come out to gangbang Drew (not like that you filth).

Who should then make the save?

Stone Col-uh, I mean, Kevin Owens. The angry Canadian man.

You may be saying, “oh but he won’t be on tv with the whole Coronavirus thing won’t he?”

Maybe, but in my fantasy booking world, by the time mid-June comes around, people like KO may be more willing to come back to tv.

And this is how you set up the next 4 weeks between Backlash and Extreme Rules. Because now Owens has entered the building as a Face but not technically on Drew’s side, we have two guys with HUGE beef towards Seth and his goon squad, but also opposing elements who both want the title. The boss fight they’ll be reaching towards at Extreme Rules is of course “the Lieutenant” Jinder Mahal, with which the match at Extreme Rules will be a Triple Threat obviously between Drew, Kevin and Jinder.

So for the 4 weeks between that, you effectively have Owens go through the same trials as Drew only this time much quicker and with more tension brewing between Drew and KO (1, because KO is mooching on Drew’s thing and 2, because Owens is doing it better). The two of them clash and assist and hinder each other for weeks with Seth actually narrowly escaping their wrath on a couple occasions.

Then the Extreme Rules match happens, which writes itself in all honesty, with Drew pinning Jinder to get to Seth at Summerslam.

At this point KO kind of cools off the championship scene for a bit, maybe to fued with Sami to get the IC title to use that route to challenge for the WWE title (which I could fantasy book if you want).

So now in the time between Extreme Rules and Summerslam, Drew actually cools off a bit because the match is set in stone, but we also have the Jinder double-cross to deal with, which fills the 4 weeks up. Jinder reveals to Seth on the Raw after Extreme Rules whilst he is being berated by Seth that he only lost because he wasn’t focused on Drew and KO, he was actually focused on Seth. And that belt.

Jinder then beats the hell out of Seth before the goons come out and he runs up the ramp (this ends Raw obvs). Then for the next 3 weeks, Jinder and Seth actually have a couple matches, even so far as to have a legit championship match on the go-home Raw for Summerslam where Jinder comes dangerously close to beating Seth, until the goons come out and save him.

Seth and Drew finally have their long awaited rematch at Summerslam, it’s the main event and before the match Jinder comes up to Drew and wishes him luck, before telling him that no matter who wins, he’s coming for them next whilst still keeping things jovial, until Jinder turns a bit sour to Drew and tells him he really hopes that Drew wins (setting up the immediate fued after Seth for Drew).

Drew then batters Seth at Summerslam in a cage match (which I forgot to mention but only really just thought of now) because it has to be 1-on-1 and it needs to be clean with no shenanigans.

And that’s how you book Seth to win, nobody to get hurt, and to get multiple storylines and wrestlers on screen and over quite successfully.

#personal #wwe #raw #monday night raw #smackdown #friday night smackdown #money in the bank #blacklash #extreme rules #summerslam #fantasy booking #wwe fantasy booking #mine #wrestling fantasy booking #wrestling edits #drew mcintyre #seth rollins #kevin owens #jinder mahal

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chillmichelle · 7 years ago

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Open and Hoping

Y/n gets more than she bargains for when she suggest her and Harry begin an open relationship as a last resort

4k+ of angst

Warning: Mentions of sex

3 years prior

I can almost feel the words on the edge of his tongue as he sips copious amounts of expensive wine in silence. I wonder to myself how he’s going to tell me he’s unhappy.

Maybe he’ll beat around the bush. He always had a high tolerance for alcohol, and he’s not very good at being upfront when he’s sober. There’s no way he’s drunk this quickly as his aura still seems tense. Forced, almost.

“I don’t think this is going to work.”

Maybe he’ll sugarcoat it. Coax me into agreeing with what he has to say with some romantic feature about our past.

“We had 5 great years together You were the first girl I ever really loved... but I think we should end it here.”

Or maybe, he just doesn’t love me anymore at all.

“I want a divorce”

Harry and I were still very much in love in certain ways. He enjoyed holding me while he slept, or watching cheesy movies with me while I built a sad excuse for a fort and popped some crappy knock-off movie theater popcorn and turned on badly filmed horror film from the 80s.

But he never told me I was beautiful anymore. Slowly, his compliments turned into looks, and his looks turned elsewhere. He slept with other women, I thought, because he couldn’t get off with me. It was incredibly painful knowing the man that I was hopelessly in love with no longer found me desirable, that he no longer tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear before smiling at me in adoration.

Eventually we both became more unhappy friends who were forced to be together. Harry would messily try to hide that he was sleeping with other people from me, ad the stress of having to sneak behind my back caused him to blame me for his tension instead of anything else.

There were times when I believed that it was his fault our marriage had turned out this way. But the more I pondered it, the more I realized that I could’ve tried harder. I could’ve flown out to see him when he couldn’t be bothered with a phone call, I could’ve told him how much he went to me sohe never had to sneak comfort in another person to begin with.

He loved me when it was convenient.

Before he has the opportunity to state what i’ve been fearing for the past few months of our crumbling marriage, I intercept his statement before it can begin.

“I know you’re sleeping with someone else, Harry.”

He chokes on his wine, sputtering the grape colored liquid across the napkin on his lap as he looks at me with wide eyes. I didn’t know he actually thought he was slick enough to make it any less obvious than it was.

“I know you’re not happy anymore” I breath out. It takes everything inside of me not to break down right then and there, because his facial expressions are just confirming my statements. And even though I knew they were true from the start, i’d always hoped they weren’t.

“It’s...going to be bad for the both of us if we get a-” I clear my throat in place of saying the word and he nods at me expectantly, clearly uncomfortable about the subject as well. The hairband on my wrist rolls around my fingertips, a habit I reconcieve when i’m nervous.

“The media will think you cheated on me. I mean - it’s not like you didn’t or anything it’s just...I still love you and I still want the best for you and I know that this isn’t it.” I stare at my lap for a few moments, blinking quickly a few times to clear the tears welling up in my eyes.

“An open relationship.” I blurt out. He stares at me in shock, as if he wasn’t expecting for me to suggest something so crude, something that was so incredibly against my values. He has brought up the subject while drunk months ago - when our marriage was slipping into oblivion but wasn’t necessarily there. I was quick to dismiss the subject with a “Yeah, but it’s a good thing we love each other too much” before he drunkenly nodded and proceeded to ramble on about another random subject.

I was so excited that he was finally speaking to me - drunk or not - that I proceeded to feed him soup to ache his inevitable hangover. And after he returned to his more distant self the next morning, I placed more thought into the concept of sharing him. The idea that I would let him live out his multi-woman phase before he could eventually return to who he was, and who he loved.

I figured that allowing him to be free for while would make him realize that other women didn’t stand in the way of what we had. That he could freely do as he pleased, and then in our spare time together we could rebuild our relationship that had crumbled with our backs turned.

“We can both sleep with other people.” I choke out. I stare at the emotions running across his face. His beautiful, horrible face that I was so irrevocably, messily in love with. The face that belonged to the man I would do anything for.

“That’s what you want, right?” Some people would say that I was insane for agreeing to this, or even suggesting it to begin with. But it was Harry. My husband that I had poured myself into, that held more of myself than I did.

It was so incredibly painful that I would rather hang onto some of him desperately than to give up on him completely.

2 years prior

“Happy birthday, darling”

He holds expensive shopping bags. The glossy, black colors contrasting with his pale skin littered with tattoos. He leans in to give me a quick kiss on my forehead before dropping them on the floor. I sit in a messy bun and a large t-shirt that smells like him.

I wrap my arms around his torso, burying my face into his shirt and inhaling the scent. He proceeds to grab my waist, rubbing his thumb over the large t-shirt I wear.

“Be ready to go somewhere in an hour, I have so much planned for today.” He mutters. I loosen my arms to lean back and smile up at him, “Does that mean I get you all to myself today?” I ask hopefully.

“Of course. You get me everyday, always.” He replies. Although i’m sure he means that we’re bound together by the simple silver rings on our fingers, I know that he’s not always mine to love. I’m aware that more often than not he leaves home with me to seek temporary residence with someone else.

“You and I both know that’s not true, Harry.” I tell him. I admit to him that it isn’t possible for me to share intimacy with anyone other than him, as I have many times before.

He sighs with a slightly sympathetic gleam in his eyes.

“Y/n, regardless of what we...do in this relationship, you still always come first to me. You’re my wife, you’re the love of my life and I married you for a reason. This is just what’s for best for us at the moment, you know i’m always yours when you need me.”

“What’s best for us at the moment.”

As in, not permanent.

I hold onto his words that imply this agreement has a possibility of being temporary. My birthday is turning out to be better than expected so far. And although every time I inhale him I smell less of him and more of other women, I push my thoughts to the back of my mind and place my focus on our potential.

I smile at the words he states, my hands wrapped around his waist lowering towards the buckle on his belt.

“One hour, you said?”

He smirks, leaning in towards me so that I can feel the whisper of his breath dance across my breath. I can’t help but think about how I might not have been the most recent girl to unbuckle his belt, to admire him from this close.

But I allow myself to become immersed in the part of him I have now. This was better than divorce, right? It was better than the constant arguments and silences we would have a year ago. He loved me, and he put me before others when necessary. He might be with others some evenings, but his nights belonged to me. And if I pushed hard enough, perhaps his mornings may be as well someday.

I spend the hour giving him pieces of myself I haven’t let myself give other men. I allow myself to pretend that he thinks the same of himself, and with every word he tells me, I allow a fantasy to grow inside my mind. One of exclusivity, happiness, loyalty.

One that i’m aware expired long ago.

Hope.

It drives us, and sometimes it drives us insane.

Present Time

He presses me up against the wall, his large fingers leaving pearl sized dimples where they meet my thighs. His lips hungrily nip at my neck, but all I can think about is Harry.

I wonder who he’s sleeping with tonight?

I think back to when we were younger and surely in love, to when we were always insatiable and in need of more of each other, and I close my eyes and I imagine i’m 22 again and being with Harry exclusively. If I close my eyes hard enough, the man I have no interest in slobbering all over my neck becomes the man that I love.

Yeah, Nope.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t think i’m feeling it.” I tell Jordan, my personal trainer. He groans before slowly lowering me from the lockers onto the ground and I awkwardly rub the back of my neck.

“Well can you at least suck me off or something? You kinda got me worked up.” He chuckles. I look down to see a prominent bulge in his pants, but the thought of being with someone other than Harry frightens me and quite frankly, disgusts me.

“I’m really sorry Jordan.” I mutter, fiddling with my sock-clad feet before slipping them inside my tennis shoes. I grab my phone from the bench in the family locker room and scroll through my contacts, dialling Harry’s number.

His phone rings multiple times, and I almost think he’s going to forget about my again until he answers.

“Hell-Hello” He breathes out heavily. I wonder why he’s so exhausted, but don’t think too far into it before replying, “Harry. You promised you’d drive me home from the gym on the way back from work, remember?” I ask, trying not to sound too annoyed.

“Shit-Shit, yeah, babe. I completely for-forgot about that. I-I’m on my way.” I sigh when he hangs up, sitting on the bench in front of the gym. The sky looks grey and thunder rumbles a I sit alone, sipping from my water bottle occasionally.

Why couldn’t I bring myself to do it?

Harry slept with countless women ever since our agreement was first put into place. It seemed as if he picked up women everywhere he went.

There were pros to an open relationship though, without the tensions of Harry’s constant infidelity lingering in the air, we were much closer as a couple. We often spent time together and he always managed to wake up next to me, regardless of how it happened. Well, sometimes he would stumble in after I had awakened, but I lied to myself and pretended to sleep just to feel him hold me.

A few droplets of water fall onto my face. Initially I believe it’s sweat, but I soon realize the droplets become heavier and heavier. I turn around to seek refuge from the rain inside of the gym, only to realize it was closed and the only reason I got in was because Jordan worked here and had a key, leaving the door locked without him.

I begrudgingly walk next to the curb, drenching myself in the rain in the process.

I couldn’t bring myself to have sex with someone other than Harry. It just felt wrong because regardless of the circumstances, my heart belonged to him. It was shattering to lie around while he was granted the ability to sleep with countless women, but I believed he did still love me. I just think we had different ways of expressing that love.

I finally see his expensive car pull up next to me. My clothes are drenched, and Harry’s taken far longer than the 3 minutes it takes to drive from his studio to the gym. I grab my things and open the passenger’s seat, rushing to get in before I get even more wet.

“Woah, woah, woah, this is italian leather” He protectively places his hand over the passenger’s seat and shoots me a cheeky grin. I playfully flick water at him and he whines, rubbing the minimal droplets off of his forehead as I slosh down next to him.

“How was your day?” He places a hand on my dampened thigh. It gives me warmth after standing outside in the rain and my heart swells at the gesture.

“Good. Went to the gym, wrote a couple pieces for my new poetry book.” I simply reply. He smirks and looks at me when we halt at a red light momentarily.

The smell of perfume and air freshener lingers in the car while he drives. As if he at least attempted to cover up what felt like infidelity before I came. Sometimes, I wondered if things had been different had I suggested something else that night, if I had moved on rather than holding on.

“Right, I forgot I was married to a New York Times bestseller.” He tells me in adoration. More often than not it felt as if we were friends instead of significant others, but not wanting to turn down the compliment he utters, I smile. I playfully punch his shoulder again, the both of us giggling playfully as he tries to defend himself.

“You’re in an awfully good mood today.” I tell him, happy about the moment we’re sharing. Moments like these give me confidence that we can eventually rebuild our marriage, that we can have the relationship we once had again.

“Yeah, I got some good head from a new intern before I picked you up.” I was absolutely clueless. That’s probably why he was late, and sounded so exasperated over the phone. Because he was with someone else when he was supposed to remember to pick me up.

There goes my confidence.

“Cool.” I try to reply enthusiastically. Truthfully, I can only take so much of his crude remarks and blatant honesty.

“What about you?” He asks, lifting his eyebrows up and down suggestively, “You getting it in?” He asks me. I fake a laugh at his childish behavior.

“I’ve been busy.” I simply reply. He nods, and the rest of the ride back to our place is in silence.

“Hey Love, I bumped into a girl at the gym the other night and she wants to go out tonight, would it be alright with you if I cancelled movie night?” Harry pokes his head in as i’m writing one of the pieces to my new book. Truthfully, movie night was the one thing I was looking forward to this week. I would finally be able to get some alone time with Harry. Him holding me and the occasionally contact of his shoulder to mine as we sat next to each other on movie nights was the closest i’d been to him in a while.

“Why can’t you go out with her any other night?” I ask in annoyance. He rolls his eyes before replying, “Why can’t you reschedule movie night to another night?”

“We’ve had these plans in place Harry. Besides, you have booty calls set up every other day of the week, why does this one matter so much to you?” I reply bitterly.

“C’mon, babe, she almost won Miss America in, like, college or something. That’s so hot. Please, baby? I swear i’ll make it up to you.” He wraps his arms around my neck from behind. A flame of hurt grows in my chest and I turn to look up at him.

I sigh before speaking, “Sometimes I feel like you put your booty calls before me.” I honestly tell him. Tears involuntarily well up in my eyes, but I fake shyness and look down at my shoes to avoid confrontation.

“Well what do you expect me to say, Y/n? You’re the one who suggested we even do this thing to begin with.” He replies, his voice distraught. My lip begins to quiver and I stare up at him. His expression softens and he sighs.

“I swear i’ll be back by 10, that’s when Elf starts, right?” He asks me, a hopeful and persuasive grin on his face. His mood shifts dramatically from when he snapped just seconds ago.

“Harry, it’s not just tonight.” I sigh, shaking my head. “Recently I just don’t even feel like your wife anymore. We don’t spend any time together, we haven’t had sex in months. I just...I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” I bite my lip, my eyes beginning to form puffy rims.

“Hey, hey, hey, no.” He grabs both of my hands, taking them in his own as he squats down to where we’re levelled in height. “You are the love of my life. I love you so much baby, and no amount of women is going to change that.”

Listen, he sighs as if he’s forcing his words instead of genuinely meaning them “If it’s what you really want, I can stay home tonight.” I can already tell that even if he stayed, he would do so in a hostile mood. So before he mutters swear words under his breath, I briskly respond.

“You can go, just...you owe me one, okay?”

I smile a bit but my heart still aches for my own well being.

“It’s our anniversary next week, love. I swear we can have the whole day, just you and me. All I want is tonight. You can stay in, write some poetry and drink some tea. I’ll be back before you know it.” He quickly replies. I can tell his mood is elated as he speaks quickly and his voice seems higher than usual.

And before I can reply, he walks out of the door.

Harry never came back that night.

The next morning, he walked in with sex hair and the same outfit he walked out in. He looks at me guiltily before rushing past me to our bedroom upstairs, the very place where I slept alone last night.

Harry is getting everything from this relationship. As far as the media is concerned, he’s an amazing husband and we’re a happy couple. He gets to sleep with whoever he wants and it’s just no fair sometimes.

But I guess I don’t get to complain. It was my selfish need to continue to be with him that brought us here to begin with.

I think my least favorite thing is when Harry’s on his phone.

He’s continuously typing away on his device. I know it’s because he’s texting his other women. I talk about how my book is coming along and he pretends to listen, but then his phone vibrates and i’m speaking to myself and the walls of our home.

I peek over his shoulder as he’s immersed in typing away on his device.

“She’s just my wife for publicity purposes, nothing more than that. We don’t even have sex because I don’t like her like that. It’s not that big of a deal, I promise I can find a way to spend the night with you again. Just let me-” Harry looks over his shoulder to see me turning my head, heading towards what now just seems like my bedroom. It feels as if i’ve been cheated on for the second time and it hurts unbelievably badly.

“Y/n” Harry calls from the couch.

“Y/n, love. Honey you know I didn’t me-”

And I slam the door from upstairs, sliding down the door and sobbing into my hands. Harry holds pieces of me everywhere he goes and throws them into women incapable of knowing what to do with them.

I grab my purse in front of my vanity, and open my wallet, pulling out a business card I never thought i’d have to use.

Ever since that afternoon, Harry and I have been on edge.

We had sex once.

Our marriage wasn’t the same anymore, neither was anything else that we seem to share. He doesn’t look at me anymore, doesn’t care about what I want before he briskly releases inside of me and rolls off of me in a hurry.

I can’t help but think it’s more for himself than it is for me. That he did it because he doesn’t want to lose this squeaky clean reputation that goes down the drain if I leave him. I could tell he didn’t want to do it, resulting in me silently crying in bed afterwards, while the door slams shut and he leaves me again.

It’s our anniversary today.

Harry had told me that he was going to make it special, or spend the whole day with me, was it?

I should really stop trusting him to have my best interest at heart when all he does is use me to manipulate other women.

Am I really so horrible that he can’t bear to sleep with me? That he has to find comfort in women he doesn’t know, women who don’t care about him.

I go through with dialling the number on the business cad i’ve been pondering for so long. I spend my day planning out exactly what i’m going to say to Harry when he walks through to doors to our house.

He comes in at 3 in the morning, with sex hair and disheveled clothing.

“Y/n? What are you doing up?” He asks, squinting at the bright light of the living room.

I hand him a small gift bag and an envelope. Both of which say “Happy 5 year anniversary” in my handwriting. His eyes widen and he looks at me in shock.

“Baby, I-”

“You gonna open your present?” I cut him off. He stares at me expectantly, but realizing i have nothing to say to him, he gulps and then returns to hesitantly opening his envelope.

His eyes widen despite his tired state.

“Divorce papers? Over me forgetting our an-”

“Don’t you dare pin this on me! You know damn well what you did, reap what you sow. Now open your other gift bag so I can go to sleep in MY room. I waited all night for you.”

He looks so stressed already, but after he tears out the purple tissue paper from the bag his eyes almost bulge out of his head.

“Y/n, are you preg-”

“Yes” I cut him off, not wanting to hear him say it. His expression quickly shifts from one of worry, to one of happiness. I can’t help but wonder why, he’s in no state to be responsible for anything else but himself.

“Baby...this is great! We can-” I cut him off again, “No!” I cut him off loudly. His eyes widen as he stares at me in shock. “Whatever kind of picture perfect family you think we could now be, is never going to happen. You can’t even commit to a girl for more than one night, Harry. You couldn’t commit to me for more than a few years, I don’t trust you to commit to a human child. Especially one you conceived from sex you didn’t want to have to begin with.”

He looks defeated, stressed and worn. Like he wants so many things but has given up on having them, a feeling I can very well relate to.

“Y/n, I love you, you know that.” He tells me sincerely. I dodge his look and hand him the business card of my divorce attorney, leaving him speechless as I walk out on him for the first time ever.

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dailybestiary · 7 years ago

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Patch Has Issues: Dungeon #2

Issue: Dungeon #2

Date: November/December 1986 (Pretty sure my Christmas haul that year was full of dope toys from The Transformers movie/show.)

The Cover:

(Use of cover for review purposes only and should not be taken as a challenge to status. Credit and copyright remain with their respective holders.)

Ah, Clyde Caldwell. He, Larry Elmore, Jeff Easley, and last issue’s Keith Parkinson were the mainstays of TSR’s amazing stable of artists. I have a soft spot for Caldwell. He did the covers for the D&D Gazetteer series, which means his work emblazoned some of my absolute favorite books from my middle school years. (At the time I had the whole series except the two island books, GAZ 4 & GAZ 9 (which I’ve since collected), plus the Dawn of the Emperors box set. My favorites, for the record, were GAZ 3, 5, 10, and 13. I...may like elves...a little too much.) And even as I sit here, other covers demand to be named. The very first Dragonlance adventure, the iconic Dragons of Despair? The Finder’s Stone trilogy? The first Ravenloft box? Dragon #147? Yep, he did those covers too. He was amazing.

But hoo-boy, we also have to talk about the not-amazing parts. Once Caldwell settled on a way of doing things, that’s how he did them. Points for consistency, but man, he had tropes. Even his tropes had tropes. He had a way of painting dragon’s wings. He had a way of painting swords and boots. He had a way of painting jewelry, and belts and coins—ovals upon ovals upon ovals.

And his way of painting women was with as few clothes as possible. Everything I said about Parkinson last entry? Yeah, that goes double for Caldwell. He never paints pants when a thong will do. His take on the reserved and regal Goldmoon—thighs as long as a dwarf and bronzed buttcheeks exposed—reportedly left Margaret Weis in tears. Magic-users (God, I hate that term) famously couldn’t use armor in D&D and AD&D, but Caldwell’s sorceresses pretty much stick to gauze just to be safe. And the Finder’s Stone trilogy I mentioned above? Yeah, the authors of Azure Bonds took one look at Caldwell’s cover art and literally had to come up with in-text reasons why the heroine Alias—one of the most surly woman sellswords in existence—would wear armor with a Caldwell boob hole.

Don’t get me wrong, I love cheesecake as much as the next dude. (Actually that’s not true; I came up in the grunge ’90s—our version of cheesecake was an Olympia brunette in three layers of thrift store sweaters reading Sandman while eating a cheesecake. Hell, that’s still my jam.) But context matters. The sorceress from “White Magic,” Dragon #147’s cover, may barely be wearing a negligee, but she’s also in the seat of her power and probably magically warded to the hilt—she can wear whatever she damn wants; it’s her tower. So no complaints there. But this cover’s pirate queen Porky Piggin’ it seems like an unwise choice. (The friction burns alone from clambering around the rigging…)

It’s clear from reading The Art of the Dragonlance Saga that TSR was trying to turn the ship around when it came to portrayals of women in fantasy, however slowly. And in Caldwell’s defense and to his credit, he definitely delivered women with agency—in nearly every image, they are nearly always doing something active and essential. They just tend to be doing it half-dressed.

Which is all a way of saying I dig this cover—the explosion, the churning sea (even if it does more look like snow drifts than waves), the sailors all running to the rail to look—but yeah, that pirate captain needs to put on some damn pants.

The Adventures: Before we get started, I have to note that though we’re only an issue in, already the magazine feels more noticeably like the work of editor Roger Moore. This is 100% a guess, but it really feels to me like Dungeon #1 was made of adventures that the Dragon office already had laying around, whereas Dungeon #2 was composed of adventures that Roger Moore and the new Dungeon team had more of a hand in sifting through. (He also has an assistant editor this time in Robin Jenkins, which had to have helped.) Even the cartography looks better. Again, I have zero confirmation of this, but the feeling is strong.

“The Titan’s Dream” by W. Todo Todorsky, AD&D, Levels 5–9

PCs visiting an oracle accidentally walk right into a titan’s dream and must solve some conundrums to escape. What an awesome concept this is! (Spoilers for “Best Concept” section below.) It’s a shame I don’t like this more.

First of all, dreamworld adventures are really hard to do well. And for them to work, there usually need to be real stakes—and not just “If you die in the dream, you die in real life!”—and/or a real connection to the PCs in your campaign. The latter, especially, is really hard to pull off in a published adventure; typically it’s only achieved through tactics that critics deride as railroading. (For instance, @wesschneider’s excellent In Search of Sanity does a great job of connecting the characters to their dream adventures...but it does that by a) forging the connection at 1st level, and b) pretty strongly dictating how the adventure begins and how the characters are affiliated. It works, but that’s high-wire-act adventure writing.)

Being a magazine adventure, “The Titan’s Dream” doesn’t have that luxury—it’s got to be for a general audience and work for most campaigns. That unfortunately means the default “Why” of the adventure—a lord with a child, a wedding, and an alliance at stake hires the PCs to chat with a wise titan—is little more than that: a default.

On top of that...I cannot get excited about anything Greek mythology-related. To me, just the fact I’m seeing it is a red flag.

Look, Greek mythology is why I got into this hobby. Hell, it’s why I got into fiction, period. (For some reason I somehow decided I had no use for fiction books targeted to my age, with the exception of Beverly Cleary. Then in 4th(?) grade, I got a copy of Alice Low’s Greek Gods and Heroes, and the rest is history.) But Greek mythology is often the only mythology anyone knows. When people think polytheism, that’s where most people’s minds go. Which is why, if you ever played D&D in the ’80s, I pretty much guarantee your first deity was from that pantheon. (In my first game, my first-level cleric pretty much met Ares and got bitch-slapped by him, because that’s what 4th-grade DMs do.)

So to me, putting Greek deities or titans in your adventure is the equivalent of putting dudes riding sandworms into your desert adventures—you can do it, but you better blow me away, because that is ground so well trod it’s mud. And this one doesn’t do the job.

The format is three dreams, each with five scenes. Parties will move randomly—a mechanic meant to represent dream logic (or lack thereof)—through these scenes, until all the scenes from one dream have been resolved. This is actually kind of fascinating, and I wonder how it would play at the table—I have a feeling observant players will dig it, but others may find the mechanism’s charm wears off quickly, especially if they have difficulty solving the scenes or get frustrated with the achronicity of events. I also like that every scene has a number of possible resolutions, so the PCs aren’t locked into achieving a single specific objective like they were stuck in a computer game.

But...I can’t shake the feeling of weak planning and execution (or even laziness?) that stayed with me throughout the adventure. Like, okay, the first adventure is a cyclops encounter out of the Odyssey. Cool! But then...why does the Titan follow it up with pseudo-Norse/Arthurian encounter? Did the Odyssey not hold the author’s attention? (Nor the Iliad, the Aeneid, or Metamorphosis? Really?) And then why is the third dream “drawn from the realm of pure fairy tale”? Like, were you out of pantheons? Horus didn’t return your calls? Or be more specific—why not German fairy tales, or Danish, or French Court, or Elizabethan? It feels like a class project where one group was on point, one group got the assignment a little wrong, and one didn’t even try.

Again, it’s not even that this adventure is bad—I honestly can’t tell if it is or not; I’m sure a lot of its success is determined at the table. And I could totally see throwing this at a party if I was out of inspiration that week or we needed a low-stakes breather before our next big arc. But the instant I think about it for more than a second, it all falls apart for me.

Have any of you tried this one? Let me know what you thought. And for a similar exploration into dream logic/fairy tale scenarios, I recommend Crystal Frasier’s The Harrowing for Pathfinder.

“In The Dwarven King’s Court” by Willie Walsh, AD&D, Levels 3–5

Willie Walsh is a name we’re going to see a lot more in issues to come—he’s a legendarily prolific Dungeon contributor, delivering quality, typically low-level, and often light-hearted or humorous adventurers issue after issue after issue. His first entry is a mystery with a time limit: A dwarf king is supposed to make a gift of a ceremonial sword to seal a treaty, but the sword has vanished. Brought to the king’s court courtesy of a dream, adventurers must find the sword and the surprising identity of the culprit before the rival power’s delegation arrives.

At first I was going to ding this adventure for its “What, even more dreams this issue?” hook...but here’s the thing with Walsh—never judge his modules until you reach the final page. Nearly every time I’m tempted to dismiss one of his sillier or more random adventure elements, it turns out that it makes sense and works just fine. In this case, the cause of the dream is haunt connected to the mystery, and I feel dumb for being all judgy.

So anyway, the PCs are given leave to search for the stolen object and the thief, but of course it turns out there is a whole lot of light-fingeredness going around. As Bryce (see below) puts it, “It’s like a Poirot mystery: everyone has something to hide.” This castle has as much upstairs-downstairs drama as any British farce, with nearly every NPC having either a fun personality and/or a fun secret (and with the major players illustrated by some equally fun portraits) that should make them memorable friends and foils for PCs to interact with. Not to mention the actual culprit is definitely a twist that will be hard explaining to the king...

GMs should be ready to adjust on the fly, though—a) it’s a lot of characters to juggle, and b) since the PCs are 3rd–5th level, the right spells or some lucky secret door searches could prematurely end the adventure as written. You may want to have some last-minute showdowns, betrayals, or other political intrigue outlined and in your back pocket if what’s on the page resolves too quickly.

Overall though, I’m a big fan of this adventure, and look forward to the rest of Walsh’s output. Also, given the dwarven focus and the geography of the land, this adventure could be a very nice sequel to last issue’s “Assault on Eddistone Point.”

“Caermor” by Nigel D. Findley, AD&D, Levels 2–4

Look at this author’s list of writing credits! Findley was amazingly prolific, and his work was pretty high-quality across the board, as far as I know. I particularly loved the original Draconomicon, one of the first and only 2e AD&D books I ever bought as a kid. I also loved his “Ecology of the Gibbering Mouther” from the excellent Dragon #160, and some of his Spelljammer supplements are currently sitting upstairs in my to-read pile, recently purchased but as yet shamefully untouched.

Now look at his age at the time of his death. Life is not always fair or kind.

(Speaking of unkind, man is the bio in this issue unfortunate in retrospect: “[H]e write for DRAGON® Magazine, enjoys windsurfing, plays in a jazz band, and manages a computer software company in the little time he has left.” As Archer would say, “Phrasing!”)

Anyway, this adventure is simple: An otherworldly force has been murdering the locals. The locals have pinned the blame on a handsome bard from out of town, and their own prejudices and general obstinacy are sure to get in the way of the investigation—that is, if the true culprits, some devil-worshipping culprits and and an abishai devil, don’t get in the way first.

All in all, this is a tight, well-written adventure, so I don’t have much to say about it, other than that if you like the idea of sending your party to help out some young lovers and save some faux-Scots/Yorkshiremen too stubborn to save themselves (and maybe slip in a valuable lesson about prejudice and xenophobia as well), this is the adventure for you.

One thing that does jump out to a contemporary reader, though, is the comically overpowered nature of the baddie pulling the strings in this adventure: Baalphegor, Princess of Hell (emphasis mine). Overpowered, you-won’t-really-fight-this-NPC happens with a lot of low-level adventures, when the writers want a story more epic than characters at the table can handle or are trying to plot the seeds for future evils. But still, any princess of Hell would already be a bit much...but an 18-Hit Dice, “supra-genius”, the Princess of Hell? Like, what the f—er, I mean, Hell?

If you use the adventure as written, the only way to have Baalphegor’s presence make sense is to eventually reveal that the area is an epicenter of some major badness. (Maybe that explains the lost nation of evil dwarves in the adventure background.) For a good model on how to seed early adventures in this matter, Dungeon’s Age of Worms Adventure Path and Pathfinder Adventure Path’s Rise of the Runelords AP, both from Paizo, are exemplars of small-town disturbances that eventually have world-shaking implications.

It’s also fascinating in retrospect to note Ed Greenwood’s massive impact in the hobby. Any article that appears in Dragon has the sheen of being at least semi-official, but it’s clear that Greenwood’s content was a cut above even that. In this case, an NPC from a three-year-old article of his is not just treated as canon, but also supplies the mastermind behind the adventure! It’s no surprise that in the following year his home campaign, the Forgotten Realms, would soon become AD&D’s newest and then its default setting.

Two final thoughts: 1) There’s some fascinating anti-dwarf prejudice in this article. Nearly every mention of dwarves paints them as exceptionally greedy and/or villains. And 2) how did one even begin to balance adventures in those days? This adventure is for “4–8 characters of 2nd–4th level.” There are a lot of difference at the extreme ends of those power scales…

“The Keep at Koralgesh,” by Robert Giacomozzi & Jonathan Simmons, D&D, Levels 1–3

One of the problems of BECMI D&D being known as “basic D&D” is that writers often assumed the players to be basic (that is, younger/new) as well. Which probably accounts for some of the early suggestions to the DM we get at the beginning of this adventure—like some pretty patronizing advice along the lines of not immediately announcing to PCs what the pluses are on their magical swords.

Fortunately, after that the article settles down and gives us Dungeon’s first real D&D adventure. In fact, not just real, but massive: 20 full pages of content—nearly half the issue! It’s a fully fledged dungeon crawl that has the PCs taking advantage of the summer solstice to open a shrine door that will lead them inside a long-ruined keep said to hold great treasure.

Now, I imagine in the coming installments it’s going to seem to many of you like I’m grading D&D adventures on a curve, because of my love for the system and the Known World/Mystara. That’s a fair accusation, but a better way to consider it is that I’m reviewing D&D adventures for what they are—adventures from a separate system, with a more limited rules system and palette of options than AD&D. You don’t go to a performance of Balinese shadow puppetry and compare it against Andrew Lloyd Webber; you look at it for what it achieves in its own medium. Since they appear side-by-side in the same magazine, comparison is going to be inevitable, but that’s with the understanding that AD&D was the kid coloring with the 64-crayon box of Crayola, while D&D was getting by with just eight.

On its own terms then, “The Keep of Korgalesh” is a decent, if not superlative, success. I love that it’s practically module-length and that we get three complete levels—a far cry from the previous issue’s side-trek-at-best, “The Elven Home.” We also get two new monsters, which absolutely fills my inner BECMI D&D player with glee. And I like that what starts as a dungeon crawl/fetch quest evolves into a “kill the big bad thing” and “find out what really happened to this city.”

There are issues, though. If the whole city was destroyed, getting to see some of it besides the keep would have been nice. Some of the ecology for the dungeon inhabitants is questionable. There pretty much wasn’t a single pool or fountain in this era of D&D adventure design that wasn’t magical, and this adventure was no exception. One of the new monster’s names makes no sense except that “tyranna” and “abyss” are cool words (I mean, I guess you could read that as “tyrant of the depths,” but still…) And there are painfully obvious borrowings from other works, especially Tolkien—a door that only opens at solstice, a lake monster, an orc with a split personality that is clearly a Gollum homage, etc.

What this adventure really needs is stakes—just something to give it a bit more oomph beyond the dungeon crawl. (Finding a blacksmith’s lost hammer is the hook offered in the adventure but it’s pretty flimsy.) Perhaps the PCs are some of Kor’s last worshippers, and clearing out the dangers here and resanctifying his temple is one of their first steps toward returning him to prominence. Maybe the PCs’ grandparents were involved in the city’s demise and restoring Koralgesh will restore the families’ honor. Or you could keep it simple and have a band of pirates or a rival adventuring group also trying to clean out the keep, turning it into a race (with the tyrannabyss causing the scales of fate to wobble at appropriately cinematic moments).

So the final analysis is this is a decent dungeon crawl upon which you can build a good adventure. The real reward of this module isn’t treasure; it’s finding out just what happened to Koralgesh. But for that to matter, it needs to tie into the PCs’ pasts, futures, or both.

BONUS CONTENT FOR KNOWN WORLD/MYSTARA NERDS: Kor is almost certainly a local name for the sun god Ixion. The chaotic deity Tram is probably a local version of Alphaks, though Atzanteotl is another strong candidate, especially since deceit was key to the pirates’ success. Koralgesh could be located somewhere on the Isle of Dawn, the northern coast of Davania, or an Ierendi/Minrothad Isle that those nations haven’t made it a priority to rebuild.

Best Read: “Caermor.” Nigel D. Findley was a pro.

Best Adventure I Could Actually Run with Minimal Prep: “The Keep at Koralgesh,” as a well-written, straight-ahead dungeon crawl. Every other adventure here relies on a pretty strong handle of very mobile NPCs and their motivations, or a Titan’s dream mechanics.

Best Concept: “The Titan’s Dream,” as noted above. It’s a great idea very worth exploring, even if I wasn’t about the execution we got in this case.

Best Monster: This was actually a monster-light issue. Despite some awesome art for the tyrannabyss, I have to go with the epadrazzil, a scaly ape from a two-dimensional plane of existence that has to be summoned via a painting. All of those details are just so wonderfully and weirdly specific it has to win. (Extra points for anyone who noticed the thoul—a classic D&D monster (though it did make its way into AD&D’s Mystara setting) born from a typo.)

Best NPC: Since this is a role-playing-heavy issue, there are a bunch of contenders, and the final verdict will go to whoever your party sparks to at the table. Obviously King Baradon the Wise should get the nod for [spoiler-y reasons], but I also really like the opportunity the executioner Tarfa offers, thanks to his incriminating goblet and how it might bring the PCs to the attention of a far-off assassin’s guild at just the right level.

Best Map: All together the maps from “The Keep at Koralgesh” form an extremely appealing whole. But for best single map I have to go for the palace of Mount Diadem—that is a bangin’ dwarven demesne.

Best Thing Worth Stealing: Jim Holloway’s illustrations of dwarves. Good dwarf, gnome, and halfling art is hard to find, and even the good stuff often leans stereotypical. While Holloway’s art is often humorous—I have a feeling he and Roger Moore jibed really well, though that’s totally a guess based purely on what assignments he got handed—his dwarves, especially in this issue, are fresh, specific, and unique. You could identify them by their silhouettes alone—always the sign of good character art. If you need an image of a dwarf NPC to show the players, “In the Dwarven King’s Court” is a great first stop.

Worst Aged: Female thong pirates on magazine covers. Also using the actual names of actual mental illnesses in game materials.

What Bryce Thinks: “This seems to be a stronger issue than #1, although half of the adventures are … unusual.”

Bryce actually almost likes “The Titan’s Dream,” confirming my loathing of it. He in turn loathes “In the Court of the Dwarven King.” Like me, though, he is pro-”Caermor” and sees potential in “The Keep at Koralgesh.” (Also credit where it’s due: I might have missed the condescension at the start if he hadn’t called it out.)

So, Is It Worth It?: If you’re a Clyde Caldwell fan, this issue might be worth searching out in print. So much of Caldwell’s work from this era was dictated by product needs, cropped and boxed up in ads, or shrunk down to fit on a paperback cover. So to get this cover in full magazine size, with only the masthead tucked up top to get in the way—that could be well worth a few bucks to you.

Also, if you’re BECMI/Rules Cyclopedia-era D&D fan (or know someone who is), again, this one might be worth having in print. “The Keep at Koralgesh” is a legit, proper BECMI D&D adventure, spanning 20 whole pages and with two new monsters to boot. I would have practically have cried if someone had given 7th-grade me this.

Beyond that you can probably just rely on the PDF. But both “Caermor” and “In the Dwarven King’s Court” have strong bones worth putting some modern muscle and skin on.

Random Thoughts:

The Caldwell cover painting was also used for the Blackmoor module DA4 The Duchy of Ten. PS: I’m not trying to tell you what to do or anything, but if you do happen to run across a physical copy of The Duchy of Ten or and of the DA modules, holla at ya boy over here.

Since this is our second issue, we now have a “Letters” column. Turns out Dungeon had been announced in Dragon #111 with a really detailed set of writer’s guidelines; most of the correspondence is questions re: those. In the process of answering, we get some surprisingly frank talk about payment. The $900 for a cover seemed low until I converted it to 2018 dollars, and ~$2,000 does seem right to my ignorant eye. I then made the mistake of converting my current salary to 1986 dollars and felt a lot worse about myself and what I’ve achieved.

Apologies this took so long to post. I had the issue read by early October and most of this review written with the next week or two after...but then I got involved in dealing with a 4.5 week hospitalization and aftermath...and then a second still-ongoing hospitalization...and even though I only had about four paragraphs left I just couldn’t find time to put a bow on it.

Notable Ads: The gold Immortals Rules box for D&D. (I also still don’t have that one yet, and Christmas is coming. Just saying, guys, if you happen to find one in your attic.) ;-) Also an ad for subscribing to Dungeon itself, starring “my war dinosaur, Boo-Boo.” No, really.

Over in Dragon: Beneath a glorious cover, Roger Moore is the new editor of Dragon #115, three authors (including Vince Garcia, who I like a lot) share credit on a massive six articles about fantasy thieves, a famous article proposing that clerics get the weapons of their deity (people were still talking about it in the “Forum” column when I was buying my first issues two years later), and a look at harps from the Forgotten Realms (notable because behind the scenes Ed Greenwood’s home setting was being developed for the AD&D game for launch in 1987.) A photographic cover and a 3-D sailing ship are served up in Dragon #116, along with maritime adventures, more Ed Greenwood (rogue stones), and articles for ELFQUEST, Marvel Super Heroes (Crossfire’s gang), and FASA’s Dr. Who game (looking at all six(!) doctors). (Incidentally, I had an Irish babysitter around this time who first mentioned Dr. Who to me—I wish I’d explored more but I was too young to understand what I’d been offered.)

PS: Yes, I’ve heard about the upcoming Tumblr ban. It is a terrible idea that will affect way too many of my readers. It shouldn’t affect me much (and I have all my monster entries backed up at the original site), but I will keep you posted as I learn more, particularly if I find you, my readers, packing up and going elsewhere.

#daily bestiary #patch has issues #pathfinder #paizo #3.5 #dungeons & dragons #dungeons and dragons #d&d #dnd #ad&d #becmi #dungeon #dungeon magazine

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biscuitreviews · 6 years ago

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Biscuit Reviews Final Fantasy VIII Remastered

Final Fantasy VIII has finally received the remaster treatment. This was the last entry from the PS1 and PS2 era that had yet to receive a remaster. The reason it was constantly left out was because during the PS1 and PS2 era, Square didn’t have much of an archiving policy. This meant that the source code for Final Fantasy VIII no longer existed. If this story sounds familiar then it does as the original Kingdom Hearts also suffered the same fate.

Final Fantasy VIII was my entry point into the series and seeing that remastered announcement trailer gave me alot of feelings and a lot of joy that the gaming community would give this game another look.

Now, I’ve already reviewed Final Fantasy VIII for this blog already. This review is mostly going to focus on the remastered edition as well as cover some points I didn’t address in the previous review. I’ll be talking about what changed as well as what improved and what didn’t improve.

Let’s get the obvious change out of the way first and talk about the character models. These new models are absolutely gorgeous. They look like they belong on PS2 game. The details on the new models show more than the original PS1 models. For example, you can now see the Garden Insignia on the Garden student uniforms and you can see Squall’s necklace, both which weren’t as prominent previously. These models go to not only the main characters, but some side characters, NPCs, monsters, and bosses. Almost everything got a nice new coat of paint and pop out more than ever before. Even the weapons that each character wields have more fidelity to them making them stand out in their own way.

One drawback is that the environments look blurry at times. It gives a weird feeling that the models are just running in a background set piece rather than their actual environment. It sort of reminded me of the first Uncharted how the characters looked way out of place from the environment. The world map also looks really rough. Textures look patchy at places and the road is just a big gray line with details popping in and out.

As for battle maps, it’s sort of hit or miss with the remaster. Some battle maps, such as the Galbadian Garden battle map, Edea’s float battle map, and D-Prison battle map, look like they got a nice touch up. Other battle maps such as the battle maps from the world map look incredibly ugly like they got no sort of treatment at all.

One thing I do want to address is the “censorship” issue some people seem to have regarding Rinoa and Siren’s new models. Honestly, I don’t have an issue with their new models. In fact, Rinoa’s new model is actually more closer to the FMV model which gives her more consistency throughout the game. As for Siren, her changes really didn’t bother me. I wish I could add more for Siren’s case, but I don’t have anything, I don’t feel one way or another. The only feeling I do have is if you are a person that has an issue with it then just stick with the PS1 version or the original PC version.

Speaking of FMV’s, they’re a bit on the blurry side. Most of them are not that bad and perform well but is a bit disappointing that they weren’t fully smoothed out. The intro FMV is probably the worst performing one as it’s incredibly slow and does suffer from frame rate issues in a few areas in that particular FMV. At least that seemed to be the case for the Steam version, I’m not sure how the scene plays on consoles. It’s something I hope Square does patch at a later time because this was the main shining point for Final Fantasy VIII which were these very cutscenes, especially with the very first scene having performance issues.

I think some new dialogue might have got added in as well as I ran into a line that I know wasn’t in the original version, particularly the Dollet SeeD field exam where Galbadia soldiers will make a comment that they’re fighting kids. Now the original Final Fantasy VIII did make references to this further in the story, particularly the Timber section. But, to have a new line that has these soldiers questioning and even state outloud that they’re fighting kids does make it more prominent that Squall and the gang are trained child soldiers which further amplifies an interesting subject matter that there is an organization actively training child soldiers with some areas of the world seeming ok with that!

Like the Final Fantasy VII and IX remasters, cheats have been included. These cheats include turning off random encounters, maxing out your health (which for some reason is only available in the Steam version), having limit breaks always available, acquire all cards, and speeding up the game. Now, those cheats might sound like they’ll make the game easier and they can, but turning off random encounters could also be challenging with how Final Fantasy VIII’s Junction/Draw progression system works.

I have to say, speeding up the game cheat was a great addition to this one as Draw farming can be a very mundane task. Now instead of spending 20+ minutes on a single encounter to Draw magic, you can just turn on the faster speed cut your farming by a significant amount. This goes for GF summons as well, no more having to sit there watching the long animation over and over again when you can just click the speed up button and get right back into the battle.

As for random encounters, I never turned them off. I can see how this cheat might actually be more challenging than helpful under the right conditions with how Final Fantasy VIII’s progression work. I can see this being an added layer of difficulty to no EXP challenge runs. This could make it to where you have to play Triple Triad and go to Draw Points to get the spells you need. This could also have your GFs learn abilities at a much slower pace causing you to be a bit more creative with some of the game’s Junction exploits to still fight effectively.

That’s another thing I wanted to discuss, now this isn’t bad, but it was something that I did hope that Square would address for this remaster which was retooling the Junction/Draw progression system. They didn’t change anything which isn’t bad as it maintains the system, but also bad because you can still heavily exploit it. This can be done by having your GFs learn item refinement abilities early and playing a lot of Triple Triad to where you can have what is traditionally late mid-game stats within the first five hours of the game.

Enemies are also still dependent on Squall’s level. This means you can stay at a low level to just kill enemies and even some bosses in one hit with how you can increase stats with the Junction system. That was another thing I hoped Square would address also to make leveling up Squall more meaningful.

I also wished that Square fixed it to where the game didn’t un-Junction your characters at specific points in the story. I get it, make sure you’re equipped and prepared to go, but damn it, why do I still have to double check to make sure the game didn’t decide to be a dick right before a boss fight to un-Junction everything.

You might be wondering with the pros and cons that I listed if the game is worth it. Honestly, yeah I think it is. For $20 USD, it’s a pretty good price for some updates and having the speed up cheat a very welcome addition for the GF summons and Draw farming.

Yes the game still has a somewhat rushed romance, the second half of the story falls apart, and the Ultimecia still feels disconnected to the story as a villain. But to me, that’s part of Final Fantasy VIII’s charm and this is a game that I still love to bits to this day.

In my review for the game a couple years ago. I didn’t give it a review score as I didn’t think I could be objective enough to give it one due to how much this game means to me and what it did for my educational development. However, looking back now I think I can be objective enough to show the differences between the original Final Fantasy VIII on its own and the remastered version. So for this I’ll score Final Fantasy VIII the game as is as well as a separate score for the remastered version.

Final Fantasy VIII receives a 4 out of 5

Final Fantasy VIII Remastered receives a 3 out of 5

This one I’ll admit was tough but I feel the Remastered version could have done a bit more to give it a remastered feel. There were issues in the original that were ripe for Square to fix this go around and they didn’t take that opportunity to fix them. However, despite me giving the remastered version a 3, it’s still a fantastic game and worth the $20 price tag. I’m glad that this game finally got some attention and even opened the door for new Final Fantasy fans to finally take a look at this game.

However, if you’ve been curious about the Final Fantasy series and is someone that is possibly looking for an entry point, Final Fantasy VIII is not a good entry point. Take it from someone whose entry point was this game. Yes, the Junction system is easy to exploit, but it does take time to understand the system to make it easily exploitable. You have to know how to properly train your GFs to get what you need at certain points in the game, know how to make skills you learn from GFs help you with progression, mastering a card game to help you get cards that can lead to items to make you stronger, learn what spells are good to Junction to which stat, and tinkering with Elemental and Status Junctions to better fight enemies with elemental weaknesses. This is better to play when you’ve had a few other Final Fantasy titles under your belt.

If you want recommendations on a good entry point, Final Fantasy XV serves a good entry point as it has all the modern conveniences of games today. Final Fantasy VI and VII also serve as good entry points as both have compelling stories and fun combat. Final Fantasy X is also a great entry point as it has a good mix of both modern and classic and one that I personally recommended as being a good “first Final Fantasy.” Then again that could also be my bias showing as it is my favorite Final Fantasy.

#Final Fantasy VIII #Final Fantasy VIII Remastered #FF8 #FFVIII #video games #video game review #game review #gaming review #gaming #Biscuit reviews #Square Enix

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class-wom · 6 years ago

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What if the story of FX's Legion, created and scripted by TV writer (Fargo) and novelist (Before the Fall) Noah Hawley, is less about the story arc of the series itself and more the story about how and why it got made in the first place? Hawley had improbably turned the brilliant Coen Brothers movie, Fargo, into the acclaimed, separately realized vision of a TV series. So what if Legion was a lark from a prestige cable channel rewarding a very smart writer, and the extended generosity ends up being that Hawley, no fan of superheroes, wants to make a Marvel superhero story about mental illness rather than superpowers? And he also wants to mess with the notion that the hero in question has to be heroic at all.

I mean, if you're FX, with a long history of taking chances on exceptional talents, you probably say, "OK, sure, let's see what you come up with." Which is exactly the answer you want if you love television as a creative exploration rather than predictable, formulaic movement from episode to episode, season to season.

It would certainly explain the triptastic, visually stunning first season of Legion, which was basically a more coherent exploration of weirdness than Twin Peaks. And then the perception-changing second season (Jon Hamm as a narrator that didn't exist before!), which seemed intent on taking a Marvel vehicle (that will unlikely be tampered with again) and giving it a kind of Breaking Bad halo, disconcertingly telling its audience that the person at the center of the story, the hero they were rooting for, was in fact pretty awful.

How else to explain the fact that, by the end of that second season, anyone tuning in for a typical Marvel series was probably tuning out. Legion was seemingly moving from oddball project for Hawley into an experiment that wouldn't likely hold, given how busy he was and the inherent limitations of Marvel-centric superhero stories inside the mind of someone not particularly interested in those limitations or the expectations for that genre.

Translation: You probably wouldn't be too far off assuming, at the end of Legion season two, that Hawley's mindset was: "OK, that was a cool experiment but I'm over it." Of course, that assumption could be way off, and the third and final season of Legion was planned as the end all along (that's certainly the narrative) and all that's left is a pro forma wrap-up where the main character, David (Dan Stephens), course-corrects his Walter White excursion and the series closes with everybody doing the moral and ethical thing and putting the world right.

Sure, maybe, I don't know. I'd probably watch that.

But instead, what looks to be happening after last season's experimentation is that Hawley is once again having a blast reimagining a Marvel superhero show. He is tripling down on the visual gymnastics and mind-altering aspects, but with the kind of narrative focus that will culminate in a three-years-is-ideal big picture analysis, lovingly concluding that he got it all right, or at least right enough to be riveting.

I hope that's true, but without the full season to examine at length (eight total; I've seen four), who knows what will happen. But I'm loving the direction the third and final season of Legion is going in because the journey has been less about Marvel and more about Hawley and, given the television track record of each, I'll take the latter every time.

There's an unmistakable creative energy about each episode of the third season, as if Hawley, his writing staff and collection of directors all gathered around and said, "Let's go out on fire." I'd argue that the second season, which simultaneously seemed to annoy fans of the comic and fall short of satisfying some critics, did its job of upending the narrative built in season one. But it also perhaps had to come to terms with the fact that its weirdness was vast, like its stable of excellent actors, and if the third season was really going to be the end, some snipping would have to be done. It wasn't perfect but it was unfailingly creative, funny and risky, which is often more than enough to overcome quibbles.

Look, Legion was doing most things remarkably well — notably giving people like Aubrey Plaza, Navid Negahban, Bill Irwin and Jemaine Clement, to name a handful of random examples, room to explore and crush the acute weirdness of their characters in a way that few series ever do. (There are 10-minute scenes in every episode of Legion where I'd take just that and only that over a full episode of something else.) And while the work of Stevens' David and Rachel Keller's Syd is the no-doors, no-safety-belt rollercoaster car that fuels the Legion story, at least half the fun of the show is watching other actors run around the theme park with their hair on fire.

Which is to say, sure, if you really want to focus on the plotting, that can be your hill to die on. But all this other vigorous exploration of the mind's infinite possibilities (especially for a mutant) is pretty damned intriguing on its own.

I'm assuming but neither hoping nor demanding that Legion will end with a plot arc that feels satisfying. Season three could end with former hero David dying as the villain at the hands of new hero Syd, who saves the world. It could be David coming back from the depth of madness and harnessing his powers (whatever those really are) and there being some kind of interior peace for him. It could (and likely will) end... differently.

Viewers often come to the realization, after several seasons of a drama, that it's not the thing they'd hoped it would be. This is especially true for genre series like fantasy and sci-fi and superheroes. It seems as if more people should know when they sign up that their results may vary (spoiler: most don't know and thus are disappointed). But with Hawley's Legion, if you were expecting something predictable or literal, well, you weren't paying attention from the very first frame.

The journey is the joy here, and if you want yet another confirmation of that, watch the first episode of season three and look what director Andrew Stanton (all things Pixar) does with the material that Hawley and co-writer Nathaniel Halpern give him.

Season three adds David's real father, Charles Xavier (aka Professor X, leader of the X-Men), in the form of Harry Lloyd (Counterpart, Game of Thrones), and his mother Gabrielle in the form of Stephanie Corneliussen (Mr. Robot), who sheds some light on "The World's Angriest Boy In the World," plus an essential new character, Switch (Lauren Tsai), who is a time-traveler.

If the Professor X revelation pulls back in fans of the comic book or X-Men, it probably won't end well for them. Hawley doesn't seem to have particular interest in the franchise or superheroes in general, and was at least partially attracted to the idea so that he could portray mental illness in a different way — while also having a hell of a time with mind-bending visuals, tricky editing and now, in the final season, hallucinatory drugs adding to the fugue state effect.

Maybe, as someone not particularly interested (fine, not at all interested) in X-Men stuff, I fall into that weird subset where Legion is the perfect series. I just go with what's on the screen, revel in the conceptual ideas and applaud the acting turns, willingly negligent about Marvel-universe connections and never expecting — as others seem to be demanding — that this show, of all shows, be more concise, more linear, more understandable.

Cast: Dan Stevens, Rachel Keller, Aubrey Plaza, Jean Smart, Jeremie Harris, Bill Irwin, Amber Midthunder, Jemaine Clement, Hamish Linklater, Navid Negahban, Lauren Tsai, Harry Lloyd, Stephanie Corneliussen Created and written by: Noah Hawley First episode directed by: Andrew Stanton Premieres June 24, 10 p.m. FX

If I had to pick one single sentence from this review to summarize my current admittedly tortured state of mind regarding this show, it’s this: “Viewers often come to the realization, after several seasons of a drama, that it's not the thing they'd hoped it would be. “ But there are those who already knew this about Yours Truly, whether they needed to or not! 😏 (Also love the unwritten “I’m looking at you, fans of Game of Thrones!”-implications here, lol)

#Legion Season 3 #Review #The Hollywood Reporter

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artificialqueens · 7 years ago

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Ballerina Butt 2 (Craquaria) -PastelChola/ PastelCholita

TW: raunchy pornography

Maxwell Heller was not going to lie - seeing the picture of Giovanni’s round, smooth ass had sparked a pleasant mixture of confused, shocked, and aroused emotions. Who could deny the perfection of Gio’s ass, Max thought. During the show, their relationship had started off shaky, everyone knew this. But as the competition grew older, their appreciation and eventual attraction for each other grew as well. Max was sure as hell not going to give up this possible opportunity to get his hands on the skinny little Italian snack.

Mas was undeniably self conscious during his run on Drag Race; for some odd reason, he thought the internalized struggle would propel him forward in the competition… that strategy was soon proven to be… a bad idea. The internalized struggle had, though, initiated a heightened sense of all even remotely sexual encounters - seeing as all the pent up energy and emotion had nowhere to go but stay bottled up. So, in this instance of seeing Gio’s ass, a lot of pent up excitement and emotion came almost quite literally flowing out.

Giovanni was not necessarily upset with his mistake with the nude. Gio tended to border on the line of being a dick pig (a shameless dick pig, at that). Max was cute and dorky, similar to Giovanni himself. But also, Max was older and more experience and cunning and Gio could not even begin to compete with that. This fear is what fueled many midnight fantasies that played out in Gio’s mind during the Race. He hurriedly texted Max back, ignoring the story behind the mishap and opting for a smirkish “I thought you’d enjoy ;)” Giovanni sent the message without so much as a second thought. The damage was already done and he might as well get a lay out of this.

Maxwell was still apprehensive; this was his “sister,” and incest was probably something RuPaul looked down upon. Anyway, Max had been waiting for something like this for MONTHS, deciding to go with the Miss Fame pre-Drag Race strategy of building up sexual tension to help out his efforts… apparently, though, that was another example of a bad idea. But, as both Cracker and Max had learned, every bad idea has a silver lining - and maybe Giovanni was Drag Race’s silver lining for Max.

Giovanni was becoming anxious. The message had been left on read for right around ten minutes. Gio was pacing from kitchen to bathroom in his tiny apartment, picking up random objects and flexing his hands around them. His head was spinning with all the different possible outcomes of this situation … what would he say when he saw Cracker in a club? what would Cracker say to Monet? what would Max say to Kately? Thankfully, a booming ping brought Giovanni out of this whirlwind of emotion. “Why wouldn’t I ;)”

It was hard for Max to be even rudimentarily sexy, seeing as he hid between sharp jokes and big blonde hair. Thinking up a good text to send to literally the epitome of sex on legs was nothing less of difficult. Little did he know that the first text was just the tip of the iceberg of riskay pictures and skanky verbiage. Max decided that no picture should go without a snap in reply, so - after checking to make sure Katelyn was still asleep because he was on the living room couch - he pulled his shirt up to expose his smooth stomach and happy trail. He trailed his fingers over the hairs, toying with the idea that that could be Gio’s hand at some future time. He adjusted his belt, pulling it down a tad bit to expose the waistband of his baby blue boxers that lay beneath stone wash jeans. He took a pic that showed off his slightly toned bod and sent it to Giovanni.

Gio received the image with hungry eyes. His mind began to run wild again, but a different type of wild, a needy type of wild. He already wasn’t wearing any shirt as he would much rather prance around nude at any time. The jockstrap he wore was tight across his waist and said “slut” on the bands that cupped his round ass. Giovanni squinted his eyes at his phone, dreaming up a reply and grabbed one of Aquaria’s garters - a baby pink lace with a thin white ribbon around the middle that ended in a bow. He adjusted the bow so that it sat mid-profile on his thigh and posed in front of the full body mirror that hung beside the makeup station in the exterior hallway. “Those are cute, but I don’t think anything can top these…”

At this point, it didn’t take much to get Max flustered, and this picture of Giovanni in just a jock strap and garter with his hair tousled and lips pouty was certainly not helping to keep him at ease. Max felt his chest flush and his heart speed up a little as he noticed that the garter was stretched and little shreds or thread fell loose from the lace like it had seen at least a bit of rough play in its day. Max pulled his dick out from his jeans and rested the waistband on top of his tip, massaging the precum over his lower stomach so that the sheen caught in the morning sun that poured through the bay window that illuminated the room from behind his head. He then positioned is camera so that the liquid glistened in the light, adding a snarky little “I bet you love this”

And love it Giovanni did. If he was already at a six, he was definitely at least at an eight now. God, this man was certainly something else. And if he wasn’t gonna do something about it… well damn. Giovanni huffed and looked down at the ever growing wet spot on the fabric stretched across his pelvis before settling himself on the floor in front of his mirror. He slipped out of the jockstrap, exposing his entire body to the cool conditioned air of the apartment. Gio’s nipples now stood at full attention, similarly to his junk. He positioned his body so that his ass was on full view to the mirror and slid his torso against the frigid hardwood floor, elongating his arms around to take a perfect picture. “Mmm yeah”

Max now was lazily jerking himself off, paying special attention to the flesh that lay beneath his foreskin. He hadn’t expected to get so close to cumming so quickly, but Giovanni was too sexy and sleek to wait for. When he received the next image, he almost tipped over the edge. He was so close that he actually had to remove his hands from his dick so that he could last just a little bit longer. All the while, Giovanni was becoming impatient and he hadn’t cum in a few days. He decided that it was time to hurry up and get this over with. Noon was coming soon and he had a party to go to that night. If he didn’t cum soon, he wouldn’t have enough time to get ready. He began to jerk his dick with reckless abandon, like a teenager that just discovered masturbation for the first time. Just then, almost as if on cue, a video from “Cute Cracker” (a new name that Giovanni had added shortly after receiving the first picture) arrived in his inbox. This certainly put Gio into the area of no return. Who knew Max was a moaner? The younger man’s cum shot out in short but powerful spurts in response to the sounds that softly came from his phone. Giovanni’s eyes fluttered as he tried to regain his normal heart rate. I gotta do something that’ll make him want to actually get his hands on me, Gio thought, hoping that this wasn’t the full extent of their sexual relationship. Dipping two fingers in the cum that stuck to his chest, he opened his lips and placed some of the thick syrup on his bottom lip. He flipped on his front camera and sent an image to the other man.

Max was already dancing on the edge of sexual oblivion. Had it not been for Giovanni’s most recent text, he might have been able to hold on for a couple more minutes. But that was not what either of them had planned. Looking at the young queen perched all pretty with his own cum in his mouth, Max thrusted into his hand, finally releasing all of his pent up desire. It came out hot and desperate and loud. Max had to clasp a hand over his mouth so that he wouldn’t spook Katelyn. All his energy was spent as he lay there in a mess of sweat and ejaculate with one hand in his hair and the other holding his phone. A light vibration in perked Max’s senses, giving him energy enough to check what Giovanni said.

“So… are you up for seconds?”

#pastelcholita #ballerina butt #craquaria #Smut #rpdr fanfiction #canon compliant

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oh-styles · 7 years ago

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Something About an Extraction (Revised)

Wow, is this really happening? I’m updating? What? In what world?

Thank you to everyone who has responded, reblogged, liked this fic over the past year; it really means more to me than you know. Thank you for being on this journey with me, and them, and being the best group of people I could ever have.

I want to say I am not happy with the ending; I feel like I could make it so much better, but I’m just ready for this to be out.

This isn’t the end of them, but their story is over. I will continue to write them in the future, but as for now, they’ve got where they tried hard to be. Thank you all, I love you, and I hope you enjoy.

9/10 Update: When I posted this, I was very unpleased with the ending, so I revised the entire thing, added over 1000 more words and maybe like 10 more bad jokes, so I hope you like these results better!

It’s a garbled moan from the backseat of his car, and the sound of a light rustling and an exaggerated groan leaving your lips that, with just a glance in his rearview mirror, he spots your body slumped against the window, your mouth left gaped open.

“Gon’ get blood on your hoodie, missy.” He watches intently at the small dribble begin to trickle over your lower lip.

There isn’t much of a response from you, not when your attention is engrossed deeply on the passing cars and the occasional pedestrian dodging quickly through the downpour of rain. Your mind is stuck in a world elsewhere, in a place curled up between reality and fantasy, where the mundane is captivating, and you think you were born in the royal family.

“We’ll be back to your flat soon, okay?” He diverts his attention back to the road, hearing your muffled hum in acknowledgment. “Probably going to need to change your gauze as soon as we get there… Didn’t think you’d bleed this much, pet.”

Harry is met with unsettling silence, the most daunting of sounds when it came to you; the same girl he can never seem to keep quiet for longer than ten minutes, and considering the number of videos he spent his time watching in the waiting room of people waking up from anesthesia, he expected a more outlandish and whimsical girl talking bat crazy in the backseat, but instead he’s met with a nearly silent woman currently hunched over and bleeding onto her pants.

“Babe – the blood, your—”

“Can I suck you off when we get back?”

Harry nearly slams on the breaks and snaps his neck to divert to the backseat, where he sees you wiping off the excess blood onto your hand, smearing a bit across your lips. Despite your cheeks filled with cotton, and your lower mouth still numb from the surgery, he hears perfectly your request, and remains still behind the wheel as he approached your road.

“Was last night not enough for you, darling?”

Last night, though it was mostly spent with you scrolling through copious webpages about nearly everything that could go wrong in a wisdom tooth extraction surgery, you still found yourself tugging down his pants to find some comfort between his legs, a new activity the two of you discovered only recently when you’d find yourself scuttling into his bed in the late evening, or vice versa.

Where you were his or not – though you two found yourself in this rather strange grey area where some things were passed along as suitable behavior, whereas he hasn’t properly fucked you yet – he had no reason to stop you when you insisted you suck him off before bed. Because, if it was being honest, he sleeps soundly after a nice orgasm, and nothing feels better than the feeling of your warm, wet mouth wrapped around his leaking cock.

The first time you sucked him off, it was a week after the party; the same party where you kissed him in the bathroom and left him trailing behind you like a lost puppy. You had staggered through the crowd saying your quick goodbye’s, before taking one step out the front door before promptly vomiting in the bushes.

He couldn’t put the right word down to describe how eager he was if the following morning you’d have any recollection of the events from the night before, but he was taken by surprise when he caught your hauntingly sullen stare from the other side of the room – your body still clad in your clothes from the night before, hair matted hysterically to his pillow – and all he could hear you mutter was, “I kissed you.”

The kiss – so quick, yet to tender; he remembers the way your breath stuttered against his, and how your lips tasted of fireball, and how you stalled for just a second longer than his, before you fell from your tippy toes and proceeded out the door.

He feels his hands clam up, and he studies your expression for any sign of hesitance, or God forbid regret, but the way you reach out for the cuppa he had left for you, alongside two aspirin and a banana, you brush a hair from your eyes and greet him with a warming smile.

“Indeed you did, pet.”

You nod softly, as if a shared kiss between the lot of you was normal, acceptable behavior and one not to be questioned, and you lean down to take a sip of your drink. “Was it before or after I puked?”

The transition from the kiss to your lips tugging at his cock was one that left him winded and blindsided in bed, one hand pulling knots in his hair, and the other in a tight grip in yours. All he can regather was receiving a rushed call as you got off work, having picked up an extra shift at the restaurant, and asking to come over – nothing out of the random.

He’s unsure if there are days where the two of you ever sleep alone at your designated houses, and if there are, it’s because he’s out of the country, though after giving you a spare to his place, he’s nearly positive you’ll find yourself wrapped in a burrito in his sheets while he is away.

He had returned from London that morning, having to cut his trip a day short to return to Los Angeles for an impromptu album meeting, which left him scrambling out of bed once your text had gone through about getting cut early, and, “I know you brought me back a surprise… Don’t tell me… Is it a crumpet?”

To your dismay, a crumpet wasn’t part of your hefty giftbag – though he did promise to steal his mother’s recipe and make you some before your surgery – but he did gift you the ‘I Love London’ sweatshirt and Big Ben snow globe, which you proudly placed on your windowsill next to your cactus.

“Proper little tourist, aren’t you, love?”

You snort, pulling the hoodie over your head and giving Harry a quick twirl. “Hardly. I’m like those kids that wear a Harvard sweatshirt they bought off Amazon.”

“A little phony, you are.”

“Such a hypocrite.”

But as he looks back at you, through the rearview mirror of his Range Rover, he notices the glaring wet of your eyes, and an evident blood smear down your chin, and he nearly slams on his breaks when the light abruptly changes to red.

“Sorry, pet.” He turns back around to face you and is still met by your quivering chin and bloody gauze that’s nearly slipping past your lips. “Christ—as soon as we get you home, I’ll change that out, okay? Get you cleaned up—”

“I told Dr. Breathdick I loved him…” You tuck the gauze back into your cheek, wiping your saliva onto your hoodie – the same hoodie he had gifted you nearly two weeks prior. You sniffled deeply and wiped quickly under your nose, glancing back up at him with large, beady eyes. “I told him he was pretty and… I loved him…and I want his sperm babies.”

“Oh,” He might’ve spoken too soon when you hadn’t displayed such erratic behavior before. “I think you mean Bretherick, love—"

“I cheated on you… I cheated—I…I don’t want his sperm babies, Harry—I told him I wanted them, and I lied, and I cheated on you—I’m so sorry—”

“Hey, calm down, you didn’t cheat on me—”

“I don’t want his sperm babies, and now me and Dr. Brickledock are married and I cannot support two husbands—”

“Hey, hey—you’re okay. Pet, look at me—we aren’t married, you didn’t cheat—Oh God, I’m sorry, please stop crying—”

It was going to be a very long afternoon.

It was the night before your surgery that Harry found himself shuffling to your apartment with a bag of McDonald’s French fries and large sweet tea, a request of yours after texting him something about your “final meal”. He had to remind you that you weren’t about to be executed, but it steered you none.

“Who knows if I will make it out alive, Harold! A woman needs fries!”

You later scrolled through multiple forums of those discussing their experiences with a wisdom tooth removal, and with every one that had retold their encounter of an easy recovery, there were two that ended in infection and dry socket and projectile vomiting. Those were the ones that sent you slamming your laptop closed and pulling the duvet over your quivering body.

“What if they forget to put me under anesthetics?” Harry stood next to you as he peered down at the lump under the covers, snapping a quick photo to send to his mother.

“I promise they won’t, pet—”

“What if I wake up in the middle of the surgery and I can feel all the pain but can’t move? They made a movie about that, you know—”

“Was that movie even medically accurate?”

“What if I don’t wake up from the anesthetics? That’s why they said I couldn’t wear nail polish – if I’m not breathing, my nails turn blue—”

“Did you even read the pamphlet I gave you?” Harry side-eyes the paper left on your bedside table, untouched for the past few days. “It’s a safe procedure that millions of people—maybe billions, I’m not sure—billions of people have gotten—”

He’s taken aback when you hastily throw the covers from your body, surging up to reach out to the man beside you.

“Lay with me, please.”

It’s an innocent request, and Harry doesn’t bat an eye before he climbs over your limbs – nearly taking a knee to the groin – before he settles himself beside you just long enough for you to swing your legs over his, your fingers finding his belt buckle like tiny magnets.

And that’s how it normally went.

Now, he lays contently beneath you, watching with darting eyes as you adjust your body over his cock, your hand reaching beneath his pants to hastily shimmy them down passed his hips. You don’t say much – you never have; you have a way with him, and he gladly enjoys sitting back and watch you take control that sends him into a spiraling ascent to bliss.

He knows you had a lot on your mind, like the surgery you were going under in some odd hours, and the paper that was due the following day, and there was always something about having his cock in your mouth that put your mind at ease just for a little while, and if everyone was comfortable with it, he had no complaints.

He helps you pull the rest of his pants down, and watches as his cock springs up from his underwear, falling on the base of his stomach, cum already leaking gracelessly from the tip. Each time he finds himself in this position – literally, sometimes figurately – he wants – begs – himself to at least ask if you would want to have sex. He still had condoms left, hidden in the back of his bedside drawer at his home, and the last time you were aware, your roommate had some stashed in her dresser. He doesn’t want to push your buttons though; he’s happy if all you want to give him is a nice blowie for now, but an animalistic urge pulses through his veins, wanting more than anything to sink himself as deep as he can inside you.

As he looks back up at you, sitting politely between his legs, you meet his hazed glance with a warm smile.

“Sorry… Just sometimes can’t get over how big you are.”

You really were too much sometimes.

A part of him – the same part that is too scared to bring up sex – wants to see if you would be willing to get off on his thigh, or his covered cock. He’s unsure how aroused you get by getting him off, but the wouldn’t be against the idea of helping you just as you have been with him.

Your tongue dances around his tip, licking up the pebbles of cum that bead from the head, just the way you’ve learned he likes it, and you slowly start to sink down, feeling his body quiver under your warm touch as soft whimpers begin to escape through his bitten ruby lips. He’s never too sure where to put his hands; sometimes he keeps them by his side, tightly gripping the sheets until his knuckles are white, and other times he pulls and tugs at his hair while the other gently caresses your arm.

You might admit one day, but you like it when he knows that slight bit of affection when your mouth is filled with his cock, especially when he spits out doting admiration such as, “Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”; “Doing so well, gorgeous,” and, “Going to make me cum, pet… Fuck, I’m—“, and you never have a moment to register before he’s spurting thick sheets down your throat, his hips arching and cock twitching, trying to push the orgasm as much as he could.

Over time you’ve learned small things that get a quick reaction out of him, like sucking deeply at his tip, your tongue flicking and massaging and licking the beads of cum that dribble down his head, and massaging his balls, just as he taught you. You’ve caught yourself plenty of times peeking an eye open to watch his head knocked back, and mouth parted in a deep, satisfied moan. You’ve even tested waters, trailing your lips down to suck lightly, letting your tongue flicker over the sensitive skin, humming in satisfaction as Harry let’s out a muffled “Fuck!” into his sleeve.

You’ve also learned that he unknowingly gives away subtle hints for when he starts getting close, whether it’s his moans increasing in intensity, his legs squirming and thrashing around the sheets, the way he starts being a little more demanding in his requests, asking to suck harder, go deeper, and even acting a little brave and clutching your hair, just so he has something to hold onto when his clenched knot releases, and he falls back onto the bed, slipping profanities and groans of your name, and his thick release coats your tongue, and down passed your chin.

You never would have expected how clingy he would be after an orgasm, but you’ve gotten used to him reaching out and pulling you on top of him, holding to you close as he regains his breath. With your ear splayed on his chest, you listen to his breathing eradicate, and how his heart is slamming like fists against his ribs, and often times when he would remain conscious afterwards, whispering in your ear how good you made him feel, how no one has ever made him cum that hard – and that quick, shamelessly – when his schedule has been sporadic and chaotic, it’s normal for him to fall into a deep sleep, you still stuck underneath his grip.

The next morning, after being put under strict rules the day before to not eat anything 8 hours prior to surgery, you were sent into a mild panic when you realized you ingested Harry’s semen like a soft drink only six hours before.

“Does cum count?! Should I tell them?!”

No Google searches would give you an answer.

Harry pulls on a dark hoodie and beanie, watching from your living room as you paced anxiously around the kitchen, your phone shoved so far into your face he’s moments away from calling a Optometrist appointment.

“Okay, it says here…okay big words. It says, when you’re put under anesthetics, your body’s reflexes are temporarily stopped, and if my stomach has food in it, there’s a risk of vomiting or re..gurgitation… Harry, what’s ‘regurgitation’?”

“So, worst case scenario pet, you will vomit my semen during surgery. Are you ready to go?”

No, you weren’t. He nearly had to drag you out of the house like a child refusing to go to school. For the remainder of the drive you stayed silent, ignoring Harry’s attempts at failed comic relief, joking about all the dumb shit you would be saying once you came to after surgery, and how he is going to tape it all and send it to Niall, and his family.

“Don’t say anything about the semen in your stomach, love.” He whispers in your direction, knocking his arm lightly against yours. “It’d be funny if you did, but please don’t.”

After what felt close to an eternity waiting in the waiting room, a nurse peeks her head out of the door and calls your name. You hand over your hoodie to Harry and hesitantly lean in, his arms pulling you tightly to his chest.

“I’ll be there when you wake up, darling.” His voice felt comforting and warm, and you held onto it as you walked back with the nurse down the hall and into an unsettling dim lit room. You were greeted with a warm smile and put in a chair; you weren’t seated for no longer than three minutes before you felt a poke at the crease of your forearm, and you were instantly pulled under.

He never intended on being your caregiver for the duration of your recovery, hoping highly your roommate would plan her trip home for any other week, but there’s only so much you can do what all other flights are booked.

If he wasn’t in the studio, he was hand-feeding you pudding and mashed potatoes, hoping your stomach would settle enough to accept the food so you could take your pain killers, but with the limited food you could eat – on top of the powerful narcotics – it was no surprise to him when you barely made it to the bathroom in time to vomit the few things you had in your system.

You had mentioned it to him before about your bottom two teeth being impacted and laying close to a nerve, and the odds of the nerve being fiddled with during surgery were high, which left you with a throbbing, agonizing pain that ran up your ears, and a dwindling appetite.

You needed to eat to take medicine, but the medicine made you nauseous, so you didn’t want to eat, which caused you to run to the bathroom at least once a day. You had decided to forgo the pain meds, saying you will “handle it like the men do”, but that only resulted in you sobbing into your pillow, begging for anything to take the pain away.

“This is what the surgeon meant by mild discomfort, hm?” He brushed your hair back as you rested in his lap, sipping on a protein smoothie he had made. “Wasn’t joking about hitting those impacted nerves. Only would happen to you pet.”

It was a long week nevertheless, and it was another before the throbbing finally subsided, and you were finally back on your feet by the time Harry was packing his bags for Jamaica.

“It’s only two months,” he grins from the foot of his bed, stuffing his suitcase with shorts. “Won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“Two months, Harold. Months. 60 days. What am I supposed to do in those 60 days, huh? Work? School?”

“I’d hope so, pet.” He peeks up to see you lying face down in his bed, ass sticking straight up like a toddler. “I’ll bring you some souvenirs. How about an I Love Jamaica hoodie that’ll go well with your blood-stained London one?”

He hears a mumble coming from his sheets, and he can already picture the deep pout that’s settling on your face.

“What’d you say?”

“I said, you’ll probably find some cute Jamaican girl to suck you off while you’re away.”

It takes everything in him to not snort at your remark. If that’s what has you so worked up, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do with you.

“And what’s wrong with the pretty little American I have right now?” He goes back and forth between his closet and bag, watching as you peek from your peripheral with your eyebrows knotted tightly. “Going to be too busy working to even consider finding someone else, and if I’m being honest, pet… Nobody’s lips can compare to yours.”

He’d be the dumbest piece of shit if he ever even considered finding someone else while he was away, and he knows it.

“Harry, you’re going to miss my birthday.”

That’s when he stops, because…she’s right. September 30th. He’ll be bunkered down in a studio while she drowns in text books and waitress tips.

“Shit, I—”

“The big 2-1—”

“I didn’t forget, don’t think I forgot—I just, there’s been a lot of deadlines and things keep slipping—”

“We’ll just have to celebrate extra hard when you get back, right?” She attempts a smile, but he can see the hurt lingering. “The roomy will be here anyway, so we’ll go out and get a few drinks or something.”

Harry doesn’t know where it comes from – some stored up courageous boost that simmers before igniting – and he jerks his head up to see you settled on your back, looking up at him perturbed in question at his expression, but he’s finally hit his breaking point. He has psyched himself up God knows how many fucking times, spinning between taking the shot or spending another night alone in question on why he hasn’t mucked up the sodding courage, so he can stop saying “what if”.

This isn’t how he wanted to do this, but judging by the somber look in your eye, and the way you fiddle with the strings of his Randy’s Donuts hoodie, he finally, after months, just lets it all free.

“After these two grueling months, if you haven’t found some other bloke, I want to take you out.”

Finally, he can breathe again.

“Take me out where?--”

“On a date, you doorknob.” He chuckles, flinging his suitcase closed and crawling over to you. “Been wanting that shitty date you were telling me about?”

He hasn’t seen you look at him this way before, and it both soothes and unsettles him. You reach out and take a hold of his hand, your fingers twisting his ruby ring in circles, and he watches you intrigued, but your silence fed him doubt that maybe this was all something you didn’t want, that maybe a blowie every few days was the path you felt safe, and anything passed that was skipping through boundary that you were keeping hidden and locked, out of sight and out of mind.

“This is probably the nicest way anyone has asked me out before,” you giggle, pulling off his ring and slipping it onto your thumb. Still too big. “I’d like that, yeah.”

He feels his heart begin to beat again and lets out a breath before twisting his hand back and taking a hold of yours.

“Yeah?”

“Been kind of waiting but…didn’t want to seem eager.”

Of course not.

He couldn’t keep you away the night before his early flight, but you were stubborn when it came to getting your way, but Harry had to admit that you had a pretty compelling way about yourself, and with every passing day, you grew harder and harder to say no to.

Although, he truly couldn’t think of a better way to spend his last night in LA with someone other than you.

Once it neared midnight, the two of you found each other back in his room, and you watched as he doubtfully went through his bags once more because, “Watch me, I’m going to land and text you that I forgot my toothbrush.”

“You can always share with Mitch,” you joke from his side of the bed. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“Y’think so, pet? I can always knick yours—”

“No! This isn’t about me, don’t bring me into this!”

He eventually discarded his bag and crawled up beside you in bed, dramatically pushing you to your designated side with a sigh of, “Can’t wait for a whole two months without a bed hog.”

“You say that but by night three you’re going not be calling me telling me you miss me.”

“By night three I’ll probably have found myself cuddled up in bed with Mitch.”

You began to retort, but you knew nothing in the world could stand in the way of his love for Mitchell Rowland.

“Harry…are you awake?”

You poke the lump beside you, a gentle tap nonetheless, but you feel his body squirm and slowly turn to fall over on his back.

“The real question, pet, is why aren’t you being the big spoon like you promised?” He expels a sigh and dramatically swings his head around to find you through the dark, sitting up on your elbow. “How long have you been watching me? Have you been watching Twilight again?”

“No, the movies are shit compared to the books and you know that.”

You sidle up next to him, resting your head on his shoulder and feeling him pull his arm around yours, holding you closer his warmth. His breathing was even, and he gently rubbed up and down your arm with his fingers and kissed the side of your head.

“You ready to sleep now—”

“Harry,” it was nothing above a whisper, but it punched through the darkness and wrapped itself around his mouth and kissed him quietly. He laid there with you, feeling your hand trickle down passed his stomach and hang over the waistband of his underwear, before you let a finger tickle the dark hairs on his hips, and hesitantly slip inside. You felt his breath hitch, but he didn’t move to stop you. “You’re going to be gone for a while,” and the aching desire pulled at his heart, and just by the simple mutter of his name, the two of you shared the same alike thought that skimmed your fingertips over his softened length “If it’s okay with you.”

He’s astonished you would even think you would need his permission.

“We don’t have to do anything, pet. I’m fine right here.” And he is; he isn’t here to rush things. Hell, it took him close to two months to ask you out on a date. The last thing he knows to do with you is rush things.

“I brought condoms.”

It takes everything in him not to dart up and go running and rummaging through your overnight bag.

“I want to…before you leave. Won’t see you and…”

“Just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean we have to—”

“I want to, my goodness you’re stubborn sometimes—calling me stubborn, jeez.” He cracks a smirk at your minor outbreak. That’s his girl. “I’ve seen your…I think I got the right condoms. I swear I stood in that aisle for twenty minutes contemplating every brand but… My hand is still down your pants, I’m sorry.”

“So talkative tonight, aren’t you, love?” The thudding in his chest shakes his breath, and he watches you intently through the dark for any sign of hesitance. “I want to if you want to, but I don’t need to.”

But boy does he want to.

“I want to, yeah.”

He’s imagined this moment far too many times, more times than he’s proud of, thinking out each detail and every touch and every sound and how from the beginning to the end would be so incredibly perfect, but now that he’s here with you, bare, beneath him, he realizes nothing could be more perfect than it is now. Any fantasy he’s manipulated in his fucked out mind can’t compare to actually holding on to you, and brushing his lips gently over yours, before the two of you finally give in and lock together.

Ever way he imagined you to taste, it was somehow better, and more.

He’s tender, and he doesn’t let his hold of you loosen. One hand rests behind your neck while the other holds your cheek, deepening his kiss as he feels you squirm beneath him. You press your hips up to meet his, begging for some relief between your legs.

“We can stop, if you’re unsure—”

“I’m okay, please I’m okay.” You bring your hand up to caress his forearm. “I want this, please.”

It’s in this moment, you reach up and clasp your hand around his neck, pulling him back down to seal his lips with yours, your hips impatiently rutting against his. And it’s with one more kiss, you feel his tip grace your entrance, and with a small thrust forward he begins to stretch you open, his lips never leaving yours. It burns, not like any burn from any previous male in your life, though you can say confidently most guys previously weren’t as well endowed as the man before you. He’s slow and gradual with his movements, learning you and all the ways he can make you quiver and gasp and cling onto him until you feel your body finally give in and let everything out in a wave of bliss, just like all the times you’ve done with him.

“You okay, love?—Christ, you feel good.” He loses himself for a moment, lost in the euphoria of your warmth. You’re tight, and fuck does it send him straight to heaven. He holds tight to your hips as he ruts harder into you, his head falling back as a deepened moan fell from his lips. “Shit, babe…You feel so good.”

Out of all the hands of men you have fallen into you, there was something about Harry that felt like a safe home. His words cascaded a dome of protection, and you knew in that moment when he thrusted once more into you, falling lightly and stifling his moans into your neck, that not an inch of his soul could do you any harm. You held him against your chest, your fingers wrapping tightly in his hair, and you threw your leg over his backside and held him as tight as you could as he pushed himself as far as he could into you, because not even chest to chest was close enough – and you wonder now how long he had been waiting for this.

“I-I’m close, baby—I’m close.” His voice is rough, and he wants so much to hold out, but he’s at the point of no return. “H-how many condoms were in the box?”

“Three—I think it came with thr—”

“You want to go again?” He’s choking on air, his lip falling between his teeth and before you have a chance to answer, his nails dig crescent moons into your hips, and his thrusts stall as his mouth falls open and he heaves one last groan before falling forward and filling the condom. “Fuck…Shit, fuck…I’m sorry…Go again?”

And he has the nerve to call you eager.

“Get me off first and I’ll take you up on the offer.” You lightly chuckle, untangling your legs from his. “You feel good, too, by the way. I like it.”

He huffs, kissing your shoulder. “It’s gonna be a long two months.”

He was right, but at least you had him for now.

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