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#i would rather die than having to sleep with the knowledge that someone finds me cringe /j
lukewarmsnakepiss · 11 months
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my brain: dude it’s literally a non-profit fanwork website, you have free will, post whatever the hell you want !!!!
me: okay but it needs to be the best and most perfect piece of literature in existence or else people are gonna hate me, or worse, find my work cringe
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parrythisucasual · 8 months
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What About Me? Ch. 4
Sorry it took so long guys. Been working on asks and some personal things have been kicking me in the ass. I'm hoping to get most of my asks out today so I can focus on this fic a little more. As always, I love you guys and hope you enjoy!!
Gangle talked with you for hours, making you feel much more comfortable. You had some knowledge as to how this place worked, now. You knew who was who, how they acted, and the parameters of what is considered “inappropriate” and would get you in trouble. 
Eventually, she stood up, stretching. You snorted to yourself, why would ribbons need stretching? She picked up her liners and whatever paper she hadn’t drawn on, “It’s pretty late, though,” she yawned, despite the fact feeling tired wasn’t digitally possible, “I’m going to head to bed.”
“Alright,” you agree, hopping out of bed to walk her to your door. You did this out of habit: every time your friends were leaving in the real world, you would accompany them to the door. She giggled as you walked her to the door.
“Madam,” you fake an accent, bowing as you opened it for her. Gangle only laughed harder, walking from the room, “Why, thank you!” You stand upright again, waving as she trotted up the hall, “See you tomorrow!”
She waved back, “Yeah, definitely!” and slipped into her own bedroom. You pause a moment, just in case she forgot something, but she didn’t pop back out. Almost instinctively, you look down the other side of the hall. A door closed rather suddenly, making you jump. You hadn’t heard or seen anyone coming, and Gangle didn’t say anything if she had.
The fact someone had been watching you didn’t frighten you. No, it was the fact they didn’t want to be seen that made you uneasy. Your eyebrows knit together, but you decide to man up and see who it was. You ignore the little voice in your head screaming at you this is how people die in horror movies!
“Can’t die here,” you mutter under your breath, reassuring yourself a tiny bit. Reaching the door, you stop in surprise; Jax’s door stared you down, his annoying smile present even in the image that adorned it.
You raised your fist, about to knock, but stopped suddenly. There was a shadow under the door, indicating that someone was standing relatively close to it. You chicken out immediately, dropping your arm and speedwalking back towards your room, slipping inside and closing the door as quietly as possible.
You place a hand on your chest, breathing deeply to calm your anxiety. You wander to your bed, falling face-first into it. You grunt, realizing that it was a lot more of a smack than you had thought it would be. People in fanfictions did it all the time, you just copied it.
You shake your head to clear it, wrapping yourself in your sheets and snuggling down. You didn’t feel like getting lost in another existential crisis today. You yawn, surprising yourself. Maybe it was to make everyone feel normal. Your eyes droop, and you soon find yourself drifting into a deep sleep.
You were awoken to a loud banging on your door. You jolt upright, eyes wide, confused and still half asleep. “Wake up, sleeping beauty, everyone else has been up for hours.”
You grumble, trudging to the door, your blanket still wrapped around you. You swing your door open, glaring at the one on the other side.
“Jax. Was waking me like that really worth making me jump out of my skin?” His grin only widened, “Absoluetly, it’s what i was goin’ for.” You roll your eyes and toss your blanket on the ground, “I’m awake now,” you grump, shoving past Jax roughly and heading up the hallway. 
You ignore his blatantly, knowing very well he was following you. He had to rush a bit to catch up with you, but soon was walking beside you, beat for beat. “What was that for? You never been woken up by your parents or something?”
The only response you give is a rather sour expression. You wouldn’t even look at him, let alone speak. You swore you saw his face drop a bit, but he recovered quickly enough. “Didn’t you ever learn manners? You’re supposed to talk back, remember?”
Ignoring him once more, you round the corner to the main hall. You perk up immediately, seeing exactly who you were looking for. “Gangle! Ragartha!” you chirp, running over, leaving Jax in the dust.
“Oh, hey! You’re a lot happier than yesterday!” Ragatha smiles sweetly. “Oh, definitely. Gangle and I hung out all day!” Gangle giggled, “I was just telling her, actually!” 
You noticed Jax hadn’t moved from where you left him. He was just… standing there, looking at the little group you’d formed. He honestly looked disappointed, or maybe sad, or even abandoned. That was it, abandoned. Something about his expression made regret nibble at your chest.
“Are you coming or not?” you call to him, hoping you wouldn’t regret it. But seeing him perk up, before playing it cool as he headed to you, you knew you weren’t going to. You can handle this guy.
“Heh, sure, if you want me that bad,” he stopped beside you, crossing his arms, “what’s up, dollface? Crybaby?” Alright, maybe a bit of regret. “Don’t call Gangle crybaby,” you snap. You didn’t say anything about Ragatha, knowing she could handle herself. Besides, she didn’t seem to care about her own nickname.
“(Y/N) was nice enough to ask for you to be here, are you seriously going to ruin it by being a jerk?” Jax lifts his hands in a gesture of mock surrender, “Alright, alright!” You see him glance at you, it’s quick but you notice it. Ragatha seems to have seen it as well, and backs down a bit, “Thought so,” she adds with a grin.
TAG LIST!!! (You can always ask to be added)
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teamfortraven · 1 year
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I return! Time for some headcanons. These are about how the mercs are as lers, in general. I’ll be continuing that alphabet post series next, just wanted to throw some more content out there because good lord we are starving…
Heavy
He’s rather gentle when it comes to tickling. He can control his strength just fine; it’s his size that he’s afraid of accidentally hurting someone with. Because of this, he’ll usually pull the person into his lap. He almost never wants to be in a position where he’s towering over someone, in case they manage to get a few hits in on him and cause him to fall over, squishing them.
Just because he’s extra careful about not hurting his victims doesn’t mean he’s going to hold back. He definitely uses his massive hands to his advantage. Wiggling a single finger against a torso or foot is the equivalent of a single normal-sized hand spidering… and it’s so, so much harder to get away from. You’ve got a mountain of muscle on one side of you, and a huge arm and hand from above keeping you pinned to his legs… yeah, you’re not going anywhere. Mix that with him taunting his lee, and they’re going to be a flustered mess. Can’t forget the finishing move: completely picking them up and bringing their stomach to his face to blow raspberries. Fortunately for, well, everyone, he’s not a fast runner, so the chances of him managing to catch you during chases is extremely low… unless, of course, you want to be caught :]
Demoman
This man is definitely one of the most playful lers. Almost always he likes to tickle rough, really wanting to see his lee fight back. To him, tickling just isn’t much fun if the other person isn’t trying to get at him, too. Spidering his fingers and really digging in, trying to find every single sensitive spot that just drives his lees crazy is his specialty. He’s not opposed at all to holding them down, either; if they can’t stay still, he‘s more than happy to help :] His favorite technique is trapping them in a hug. Everyone on base has come to be weary of his hugs… one moment there’s a demolition expert standing in front of you, and the next there’s a slot machine. Ready to take a chance?
While he usually is pretty rough with tickles, on the rare chance that he’s tired but has yet to pass out, he will be exceedingly gentle. He usually won’t engage anything when he’s tired, so it’s up to the lee to drop hints or even outright ask him. He’ll be completely content with lightly wiggling his fingers across their body as they try to stifle quiet giggles, a wide smile stretched across his face. Be warned though, depending on how relaxing it is for him, he just might pass out. Sometimes on you. He also tends to hug things in his sleep… although I’m not sure anyone would complain, really. Demo hugs are pretty cool.
I would probably silently cry in happiness.
Oh… also… king of raspberries. For the love of god, if he catches you, cover your stomach or you will probably just die /pos
Engineer
I haven’t even started typing anything and my face is beet red HELP-
Very, very systematic with his tickles. This man seems to constantly be calculating things in his head, no doubt things that no one else would understand. The very idea of him running mathematical equations in his head while he’s tickling someone is, in my opinion, absolutely terrifying (in the best way possible). You flinched a little when his finger stroked a particular area? Figure out what exact angle to strike from next. Have a particularly intriguing reaction to him simply tapping his fingers? Use that same reaction like a metal detector’s beep to guide him to where you’re most sensitive. He is in no way familiar with the human body like Medic is… but that doesn’t mean he can’t use his knowledge of math and other sciences to figure out exactly where to wiggle his fingers to make you start practically begging.
As for raspberries… because, of course, if I specified the first two’s, it would just be cruel of me to not specify the rest… he prefers to use his stubble as a weapon. Having him wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle your stomach is going to be equal parts flustering and maddening. God forbid he decides to throw in a raspberry just to catch you off guard… and the whole time, he’s gauging your reactions. He might not be deadly on a scale of singular tickle fights… but just know that each time he manages to get you to react, in the next one, he’s going to be even better at it. Whatever you do, don’t let him read you…
So anyways. Oh nooo Engineer I dropped a color coded diagram of everywhere I’m ticklish, don't look oh no!!!!!! /s
Soldier
Something that must be clarified so you understand his drive. He is a vessel of the American spirit. Therefore, he is a direct representative of America in fights… including tickle fights. His entire country is depending on him to make the other person beg for mercy, and by god is he going to win. Whether that means digging into their ribs until they’re at the verge of tears, blowing raspberries until they’re silent, or running the nearest fluffy object he can find up and down their feet until they surrender.
Once he finds out you’re ticklish, you’re completely fucked. The moment he hears it, he has to see if it’s true. And every time after that is either because he forgot and someone reminded him (he must go test it again) or he needs to “make sure nothing is different” (he must go test it again). There is no teasing, there is no delay. As soon as he has the person in his hands, he’s just gonna go to town. Sometimes he’ll throw in a quick verbal jab or two, enough to make his lee squeal and blush, but he’ll mostly be focused on the tickling side of things. Possibly the worst part is he doesn’t necessarily have a “style”. One moment he’s poking absolutely every inch of their torso, the next he’s spidering his fingers across that one spot that made them jump a foot into the air, the next he’s experimentally blowing raspberries. You’ll never be able to prepare yourself, because even HE doesn’t know what the fuck he’s about to do.
Oh yeah, about the raspberries… you’re gonna die /pos Although Demo is definitely the king, that 100% makes Soldier his queen (Boots n Bombs intended if you want it to be). No one knows why he’s so damn good at it…
Pyro
The most wholesome tickler you will ever find anywhere in the entire world galaxy universe reality. Their style of tickling varies an incredible amount. Sometimes it’s light, sometimes it’s kinda rough, but usually it’s right in the middle. They are very careful to never hurt their lee and frequently give them openings to get away if they really want to.
Pyro the beloved… They constantly switch between tickling and cuddling. One moment they’re dancing their fingers up and down your body, the next they’ve wrapped their arms around you and are gently squeezing while excitedly kicking their feet with muffled laughter. After lightly tickling for a bit, they’ll give their lee a chance to escape, and, if their lee seems to be taking their time with it (for absolutely no reason, of course /s), they’ll grab them by the ankle and swiftly drag them back just to begin again. Spontaneity is the name of the game, and Pyro is the master. Choosing either tickling or cuddling at any given moment is great, sure, but what about both simultaneously? Inching their fingers so very slowly while wrapping their lee in a tight hug so all they can do is try to muffle quiet giggles and squirm, gently nuzzling the filter of their gas mask into the crook of their neck while holding them… idk I just love Pyro :3
And it is a CRIME that they cannot blow raspberries. We need to riot! Get the Twitter hashtag going! And then immediately private your account because we’re afraid of the normal TF2 fans finding our humble little village! This is war!!!
Scout
Okay so, you know how Pyro is the master of spontaneity? This guy has them beat, I’m afraid (and you should be, too). An IQ of triangle + caffeine addiction + undiagnosed ADHD = making moves in a tickle fight that God himself can’t wrap his head around. Why did he do a single push up before he started giving it to his lee? Not important. Why is there always a moment in every tickle fight where he feels the urge to go run and check the fridge to make sure no one has stolen his Bonk!? Something something neurodivergent idk. Let him cook.
Anyways, onto the actual composition: man is terrifying. But also very, very weak. Basically, he takes everything he has on the battlefield and channels it into his role as a ler. Literally. The bat? Uses it to pin arms or legs to the ground. His annoying little teases and brags? Ten times worse, ten times more likely to get you flustered. Don’t even get me started on the Bonk!… once he chugs that shit, the fight is over. He’s already difficult enough to grab in just his normal state — now picture this. A Bostonian who is full of himself poking every single spot on your body he can reach at insane speeds, and when you reach out to grab his wrists, it’s like he phases through you. Yeah, no. The fight is over.
Except for when it wears off. But by then, he’s usually long gone. He can’t risk the payback he might receive once his invincibility is over.
Scout isn’t the best at blowing raspberries, but he definitely tries. If he can’t seem to get it right and you dare have any sort of visible reaction for finding it funny, you’re gonna be catching hands — well, trying to. Too fast.
Medic
Precision is key, and there is definitely too much of it to handle. Simply put: he knows what he’s doing, and he knows he’s really good at it. Having a lot of information on human biology memorized definitely helps. That said… he doesn’t have to tickle rough to make his lee scream in laughter. He can do the lightest, gentlest touches you’ve ever felt in your entire life and still have you on the floor in half a second. But what fun is it to him if he has to hold back? Tickling roughly with breaks every few seconds seems much more his style. He’ll practically have the other paralyzed with how easily he’s able to read their reactions.
As implied above, he doesn’t even need anything to hold his lee down. His incredibly accurate strokes of wiggling fingers is enough to shock his patient into fits, frantically trying to get a grip on what’s happening, where his hands are, how long it’s been… And, as someone who is more or less morally gray, he’ll add in teases just to top it off. Letting his lee think they’re escaping just to be attacked yet again is one of his favorite things. If he can do something to fuck with their head and their sense of reality, he’s going to.
Oh, also raspberries :3 horrifyingly precise raspberries. Although, if he’s having enough fun, sometimes he does them just about anywhere, just to see… he does love a good experiment. Whoever the lee is is going to be squirming like a worm for sure, though.
Sniper
Snipes is pretty much the definition of “fuck around and find out”. He might not seem like the type to enjoy tickling others, and definitely doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy being on the receiving end, but if you dare try to test him, if you dare try to get a reaction, you’re going to get more than you bargained for. Sniper is a bit like Soldier: he tickles to win. That includes getting revenge for something (possibly previously getting wrecked) and interrogation (usually because Scout stole his shit and is refusing to fess up). That said, he is a pretty rough ler, or at least, he’s not exactly merciful.
He’s lying when he says he doesn’t find it enjoyable at all, but if you try to get him to admit it, well… you get the idea. Holding his lee in some inconceivable position that they won’t be able to fight back in is usually the go-to. Sometimes, if he trusts himself enough, he won’t even hold them down. Man has some long ass fingers; no matter how the lee covers themself, he’s going to be able to get at every single inch of them. Usually forces them to the floor and then towers over them before he begins his assault. It’s almost too obvious that it’s a legitimate attempt at intimidation (and good lord is it effective).
It’s an extremely rare occasion when he blows raspberries. He sees them as being more of an affectionate thing, and he doesn’t tickle people for that reason (he claims). If he notices his lee’s stomach is particularly sensitive, he might blow a few. Like Scout, he’s not the best at it, but it’s enough to make just about anyone jump in shock.
Spy
I see so few ler!Spy headcanons :’] maybe my feed is just wonky? Anyways, last but not least!
He definitely has a much more delicate touch than the other mercs… but that doesn’t mean he’s bad at tickling. It actually kind of throws him in the same boat as Medic. He’s so good at what he does that he doesn’t need to be rough with his lee; the lightest of touches will make them absolutely lose their mind.
He throws in a few snarky comments as he goes, usually having the goal of completely wrecking the lee. He carefully plans how he’s going to go about it… and then puts it into action. He prefers having his victim subdued in some way so they can’t easily get away, allowing for him to be slow with it. He enjoys making the entire experience incredibly teasing, knowing exactly where he should aim but taking his time working towards it, inching just close enough that his lee starts completely giving it away. Then he’ll pretend to stumble upon it by accident, but makes no attempt to cover up how amused he is if the other seems to be falling for it.
I would say I feel like he’d find the concept of raspberries weird… but the only other merc who is covered head to toe physically can’t. Therefore, Spy gets to blow raspberries in Pyro’s honor :] He is extremely teasing about it, just like he is with everything else. He’s going to keep bringing up the fact that you’re pinned and that there’s nothing you can do to stop him and there’s… well, nothing you can do to stop him. Idk I wrote this all on 3 hours of sleep okay.
All 9 mercs and their ler headcanons done wooo! Hopefully this makes up for me being gone so long :’] I’ve had a ler!Engie and lee!reader fic in the works for months now, aka I wrote 3/4 of it one day and then I lost motivation, but that will be coming out soon, as well as a ler!Spy and lee!Snipes fic I wrote around the same time.
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bloopitynoot · 8 months
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shadowgast fic rec: hurt/comfort
3 Hurt-Angst/Comfort Shadowgast Fics I enjoyed
Okay! I'm not making this an official list because I really want the asker to know I posted this.
I realized I read a LOT of hurt/comfort shadowgast fics but have mentioned a lot of my favs in my previous lists (I'll link the lists at the bottom of this reply) so I went through my bookmarks and picked three others I enjoy (of various lengths):
__________________________ 1- I'm not Asking for Hope
I'm not Asking for Hope (9492 words) by DamnthatGeko (if you know them here let me know and I will tag) Chapters: 2/2 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: There are three discreet hook closures that hold the collar of his shirt closed. He undoes them with deft movements to expose the column of his throat. He pauses after the last one, his eyes widening. Oh. Well, there we go, Essek thinks distantly. Like a tree growing deep roots into rich soil, there is a bloom of dark veins beneath his skin, just over his clavicle. He reaches a finger to touch it and finds his skin shockingly cold. Essek tries to say goodbye and fails miserably.
Why I liked it: It's the self loathing for me, the "I would rather die a horrible death than ask for help", the "I guess I will die and not think about the consequences or emotional impact on those around me" mess of an Essek vibe. This is a great shorter read and I love the several levels of emotional work that Essek goes through in this. As usual- yes it is a happy ending because I physically cannot handle hurt/angst for no reason.
2- Sleeping in the shadow of an other self
sleeping in the shadow of an other self (32857 words) by @nonwal Chapters: 10/10 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: Essek has a moment to consider that gravity-based trust exercises have never worked for him, and then the spell hits. He leans back into it, falls, falls. (In which Essek is resurrected by the Mighty Nein and framed for innocence.)
Why I loved this: Okay but this entire fic was a WHIRLWIND of emotions. I loved the moral dilemmas, the philosophical ponderings of what makes someone good or just, the heist feelings, and ultimately the end (even though it wrecked me to get there). I don't want to say too much here in case I spoil, but I totally recommend this read if you are interested in the Mighty Nein exploiting and using the loophole of a lifetime.
3- Time yields to no one (except for you and me)
Time yields to no one (except for you and me) (85178 words) by Chiakery (If you know them here let me know and I will tag them!) Chapters: 26/26 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: No matter what people say, Essek isn’t a god. As far as the proper classification goes, he’s not even a lesser idol. But he is a deity and the powers he possesses make people whisper his name like a prayer and seek his guidance in matters that transcend knowledge of mortal arcanists. But, in the end, it's always the same: they cower in fear before him as soon as they realise the size of destruction he’s capable of. There’s no reason to believe that Caleb Widogast would be any different. EDIT: Now with my version of Exandrian myth of creation with Luxon as the main star!
Why I vibe: I LOVE fics in which Essek is the champion - or something close to - of the Luxon and this one is especially wonderful. A deity who is painfully lonely (and a little evil), and a wizard who would quite literally trade their entire soul in exchange for knowledge (and attempt to trick a god). The way in which these two very broken people come in and out of one another's lives and find love and family in this longform fic has my entire heart. They both deserve so much love (and it does work out in the end even though it is a painful process!). I hope you enjoy at least one or all of these fics! __________________
The Previous lists;
1. Shadowgast Corporate/Office-Au Rec List!
2. Shadowgast Bakery/Coffee/Tea Shop Au's I Love
3. Shadowgast Space-AUs I love
4. 3 Shadowgast fics that made me ugly cry
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romancesources · 1 year
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FALLOUT: NEW VEGAS SERIES, ARCADE GANNON EDITION. (some of these are edited for general use, while some keep their context for the overarching fallout universe. feel free to change them around to suit your needs.)
what? did you expect me to applaud your efforts to support a deranged warlord?
you are bad for helping them. please stop.
if you can find a way to push them out of the picture as well, i think everyone will be better off.
the only way to ensure relative safety and independence for the people here is to prevent others from taking control of the region.
i'll be here. just don't expect me to fend off a gang of super mutants while you're gone.
just as a warning, my covert bandaging skills are a little rusty.
i'm not standing here because i'm overburdened with emotion. take some of this stuff off of me so i can move a little more easily.
hmmm. might need some antidote here.
yep. that's poison.
will the medical wonders of the post-apocalyptic world never cease?
if you could spare any ammunition, that would be really terrific.
it is my medical opinion that that could have gone better.
i could use a syringe of med-x or two... or eight.
back to the tomb, i suppose. If you need me, et cetera.
i'm hardly a whirlwind of death when left to my own devices, but all right.
we are coming for you. run, and we will catch you. hide, and we will find you. no matter what you do, you are all going to die.
fighting's not my strong suit, but i'll see what i can do.
if there's one thing there's no shortage of in the mojave, it's violence.
it would be nice if things could stop tearing each other apart around here.
did someone slip psycho into your water or are you just naturally berserk?
we have enough problems around here!
i thought my charm could win you over, but i guess it wasn't meant to be. are you sure you want me to go?
you have quite the menagerie at your disposal.
i'm just saying that if it were to fall into a lake and be irreparably damaged... and if you threw an emp grenade in after it...
well, there are worse things happening in the world, right?
thanks for asking. i appreciate it, i do.
back in your good graces again? i knew you'd see the light.
i'm really very boring. you'd get better stories out of a junkie.
i don't want to be... alarmist or anything, but maybe you should ditch that thing.
okay. don't have to make a decision now. just... sleep on it or something.
i guess they don't make 'em like they used to.
physician, heal thyself... guess it's a good thing they invented stims.
i don't think you need to worry about the specifics. basically, expect a lot of firepower and dead bodies.
let's just say it's truly a sight to behold.
it's the least i could do. all i ask is that you put it to good use.
i may not be the one to help stop him here, but you are.
fortis fortuna adiuvat. good luck, and good bye.
i'd rather they have it than allow all that knowledge to disappear.
i'd just prefer that it goes to an organization who are less likely to use it for... violent purposes.
that's a grim deal to make.
not all sacrifices are made by the willing.
but where is the lamb for this burnt offering?
that was their decision to make, not yours.
there are other ways to punish people, other ways to condemn their actions.
what we always do. whatever we can.
i was an only child and spent most of my time with my mother.
my father died when i was young and i never got over it.
oh... and i like medicine and reading books about failed socioeconomic policies.
right now, i'm sure you're asking yourself, 'why hasn't some lucky man scooped this bachelor off his feet?' like i said, i'm very boring.
some people do. i just... don't.
look, i appreciate that you're trying to be friendly, but i'd just rather not discuss it.
why do they need more power?
hmm. that's a valid point.
i'm not really behind them in all of this, but the last thing i want is panic in the streets.
i'm thinking that i'm leaving because you are a sociopath. good riddance.
what's changed since then?
there's something i need to go do, but i'll catch up with you later. thanks again for your help with the others. it means a lot to me.
you can't hold onto a past you've never had.
what's the point of surviving the war?
no way are they getting away with this. i'm not letting it happen. you're not letting it happen.
they abdicate responsibility to a myth of historical inevitability.
i suppose you're right. when you're part of something for that long, maybe it's impossible to let go without losing part of yourself.
i'll always feel like something is missing from my life.
not everyone dreams of being a revolutionary, i suppose. maybe we can't all change the world.
maybe it's enough just to do good for the short time that we're here.
it seems presumptuous of me to think that i could join the fight, even if this is a cause worth fighting for.
if you lose your humanity, then i suppose that is all that's left.
victrix causa deis placuit sed victa catoni.
in the words of socrates, 'go fornicate yourself.'
okay. i just wanted you to confirm that i'm traveling in the company of an insane fascist. thanks.
the people who live here don't deserve to be victims of your misguided attempts at political engineering. or are they just collateral damage?
great! you're either unimaginably cruel or profoundly insane!
i hope you get everything that's coming to you.
all i know is that you are a bad person and i don't want to be around you anymore.
because everyone would be conscripted or enslaved. and the people who are unfit for military service or slavery would be put down.
overt flirtation will get you everywhere, you know.
caveat samaritanus.
oh, you know. finding alternative treatments for common illnesses and injuries.
there are worse things one can be, though i do admit, it is a bit boring.
don't mind me. i'm just voicing my thoughts so they don't burrow out of my skull in a fit of abject despondency.
i'm enthusiastic about helping people, but nihil novi sub sole.
but the side effect of medical success is that more people live longer. funny how that works.
cuts, lacerations, broken bones. infections resulting from all of the above. common cold, influenza. take your pick.
there are plenty of ways to die out here, and most of them, surprisingly, don't have anything to do with war. just common human fragility.
no offense intended, but why should i go anywhere with you?
short of canceling our imminent travel plans, that's the best thing you could have said.
no disrespect intended, but you aren't the first person to dream up the idea.
i can't say i understand your obsession, but for that i suppose i'd have to spend a night in your grave.
i'm here because of you, so i figure you're the one most deserving of it.
why don't you make like odysseus and get lost?
for as lack of adornment is said to become some women, so will this place, without your presence, bring delight.
interesting way of handling things. very sub rosa.
it's hard to find justice in all of this, but i suppose this is as close as it gets.
i'd like to assume that we're tiptoeing into the mouth of hell out of academic curiosity, but i'm not so open-minded that i've lost my brains.
i'm no botanist, but i think this may not be entirely natural.
it's a shame what happened up here. i understand arguments about the 'fog of war,' but that can't be much consolation to the survivors.
i'm not exactly a mercenary, but taking out scumbags of this magnitude wouldn't cause me to lose any sleep.
what a load of brahmin shit! can you believe that guy?
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some pretty asks :]
@boygenuiss, this is your ask list, im just doing it weird because i had half the questions answered when i realised i hadn't rebloged :[
Is there anyone youd do anthing for? my brother mal. for the sake of being cringe i will not be tagging them. \
what facinates you? astrophysics and the persuit of knowledge, and the application of knowledge
favorite artists? Hozier, and Barbara Levalle (a painter)
what outfit makes you feel most confidant? clothes were i feel as though i am fully covered. (leather/denim) it makes me feel safe
favorite flower? Alaskan SalmonBerry. its the flower im named after
favorite season? Fall. before i moved down to the lower 48, i had never seen fall. it lasted about 2 weeks, if you were lucky, where i grew up.
favorite movie/tv show? i really enjoyed Fairy tail, however i am a hardcore mlp show. i watched the shit outta that as a kid
favorite color? dark raspberry, but the kind you see in a ruby.
infatuation/first crush? a boy in my kindergarten class named Darius, he ended up bullying me later on though. RIP
How long do you sleep on average? As a person with clinical insomnia, not much and the stuff i get isnt very good
what celebrity do i look like? i have never had somone tell me i look like someone
whats your favorite scent? settling cheesecake, i make it homeade and nothing smells better than a cheesecake while its still batter
Pets? i have had 3 in my life. 1 passed away when i was a child, the other 2 are seniors and living their best life.
what color is your hair natually? what color would you die it? I have dark brown hair, that kinda shines yellow. i would die the ends of my hair forest green
do you have a good relationship with your parents? no. neither of them, or my siblings.
do you take a yearly vacation? i do not have that kinda money
biggest fear? not being strong enough to keep myself safe/not being able to outlast my disablity.
are you taken? no. i have chronically low rizz
what do you wear to bed? lounge wear, the comphy clothes i wear around the house.
best feeling youve ever exsperienced? i dont really have any? i lost a shit ton of my memories due to ptsd. so, im sure im gonna make some good memories, later on in life
whats your skincare routine? i wash my face with bar soap and water, whenever i wear makeup. otherwise i just kinda leave my face alone.
best gift youve ever recieved? as a child i got a lightsaber for christmas, after thinking i wouldnt get it because i was a girl. (i really should have noticed i was trans a while before i did)
favorite book? its a toss up between Skullduggery Pleasent and Septimus Heap. and an honorable mention to Pride and Prejudice.
do you have a garden? plants? nope, i live in an apartment and the plants draw in bugs, no sir.
dream destination? ive always wanted to live in Iceland! far, far away free to be someone outside of the shit ive dealt with
best subject? math. for sure math. once i understand the material i fly through it. i would say that science is my favoite subject, considering im planning on becoming an Astrophysist.
do you want kids? no, never, i woudnt be a good parent and i dont wanna bring kids into this world anyway, this place sucks. esp wher i live lol
whats your sexuality? im bi-romantic, and asexual.
do you prefer loose or baggy clothes? i prefer to wear soft heavy clothes. unfortuanly i live in the south. so no warmth for me. well. to much warmth rather
nail polish? i am currently wearing cobalt blue! i like wearing bold colors when i actually do wear it.
if you could travel to any time period, when would it be and why? i would travel far back to when my native tribe hadnt been decimated. so i could see what my ancestors, my family, actually did. the truth is hard to find after they (genocide perpatrators) tried to bury it all.
do you want/have tattoos and peircings? i want another 2 lobe peircings, and i might get some other ear ones! i am a coward however. i am planning on getting a Tlingit (my tribe) story tatooed on my back, and im also going to get some salmonberry flowers on my neck, surrounding my head/neck like a necklace!
tag list (feel free to ignore if you guys dont wanna do it)
@grandwretch you're my first mutual btw :]
@antipasto-the-theif @puffin-smoke @anunmarkedface @no-see-um-incorrect @new-kanon @bagelbucket @psychethebutterfly
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charmingbrute · 1 year
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[ insert batman - esque spinny timejump card thing here ] cue upon wherever ares frequents the most him finding a little basket of interesting tidbits absolutely found off star. some items candies ( or foods ) he actually liked, created genuine by hand rather than brought into reality with magicks along with some little snake charms made from wood and other materials - some unknown or primitive to their own technologically advanced civilization.
with the items and trinkets, there is a note which reads simply
i know naught how you may take this, but know that you are still in my thoughts. i care for you regardless of what you've done in youth or . . whatever you did to Her. i do not believe it matters anymore, you and athena are more family to me than they were. faces are hard to remember as time goes on and only you and mother remain. anyway, i hope you enjoy these. especially the food. with care, crysanthemum
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Days were much quietter when he stepped down from his Seat. He wasted away the remaining of his days charting the map of the Star, trying to remember every detail of the lands he had seen, the people he had met and the cultures he was introduced to. When it's all over, it's his turn to return from whence they all came, a finality to such an unfulfilling life. He had talked to some people about it and was then given suggestion to speak to his family before sleeping for good.
There were times wherein he considered to, but felt as though they'd be better people without such knowledge. And who would even notice his absence? He had done what he could for the Star, that was the only thing that mattered to him and should matter now. Still, as he opened and read the contents of the letter, he couldn't help but wonder how it all might have taken a different turn if he didn't lie. And if... he just knew how to sympathize with them, how to speak his apologies. He supposed he'd never be normal, living his life as a broken man and would die a broken man, still. Such a creature had no place in their family.
With a bittersweet smile, he closed the letter and left her gifts where they're found. He supposed he's ready to return to the Star as he has naught more to speak to them. If he did, it'd only be hurtful words, words that no one deserves to hear coming from someone who's supposed to love them.
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I posted 21,175 times in 2022
That's 889 more posts than 2021!
209 posts created (1%)
20,966 posts reblogged (99%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@adrianasunderworld
@nuitthegoddess
@stutteryprince-difficulties
@crazyyanderefangirlfan
@twiceasfrustrating
I tagged 3,482 of my posts in 2022
#obey me - 1,243 posts
#twst - 543 posts
#clothes - 256 posts
#disney villain recruiters - 248 posts
#twisted wonderland - 211 posts
#writing - 193 posts
#villain recruiters - 130 posts
#genshin impact - 107 posts
#disney villains - 89 posts
#disney - 84 posts
Longest Tag: 135 characters
#also thanks to this fic “will u die if u eat paper” “how much paper can u eat before it kills u” and much more are in my search history
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Okay imagine MC visiting a park and the sprinklers come out. The brothers are confused and amazed, MC say it periodically waters the grass but sometimes catches people off guard.
So imagine an intruder coming to HoL and out getting doused in water. Holy water that is
Basically HoL new security is holy water sprinklers.
@sparkbeast20, @rainiishowers, @adrianasunderworld @the-ghost-of-panda
198 notes - Posted November 18, 2022
#4
*MC, Lilith and the demon brothers eating dinner*
Lilith: MC, I have a rhetorical question.
MC: Yes?
Lilith: If all my brothers cheated on you, what would you do?
The demons bros, choking.
MC: I would have them massacre each other.
Demon bros: !?!?
Lilith: Good choice
Demon bros: LILITH!
A/N: Of course the boys would never think of doing that. They would all rather cut of a limb and eat Solomon’s cooking that do that.
Tagging: @sparkbeast20 , @satans-l0ver, @the-ghost-of-panda, @mcx7demonbros
275 notes - Posted December 1, 2022
#3
I had this thought for yandere obey me
This set in a human au where your a college student in the brink of getting broke. Your running out of job options since the customers are either rude or the management is. So you wouldn't believe your luck on one opening. It's a host job, but the pay is good, you call the manager and scheduled a meeting; you got the job
Working there is not so bad and the customers loved your humor and wit. As you go home you bumped into someone, he chide into your face to watch where you're going while you retorted with a snappy comeback, his brothers behind him snicker at your words and you continued your way home.
The manager called in asking you to entertained guests in the VIP room since one of the other host is at the hospital. You agreed but didn't expect your customers were the rude man and his brothers
A/N: If you want to use this idea, be sure to credit me.
287 notes - Posted January 31, 2022
#2
Another yandere Obey me college human au but this time the brothers keep finding little notes in their bags. Each note is different for each brother.
Lucifer - Praises how hard he's working and how heartwarming on how caring brother he is.
Mammon - How they find his tsundere ways cute, how he's such a caring brother and he is the greatest.
Levi - They love how passionate he is with the things he loves and geeks out with him.
Satan - They loves his thirst for knowledge and recommend books and crime shows for him
Asmo - They tell him how he's such a sweet brother and jokingly tell his horoscopes.
Beel - They praise him for always looking out for his brothers and often tell him new places to eat.
Belphie - They give him ideas for pranks and like to tease him and call him sleeping beauty
The brothers have no idea how the person can slip these notes in their bag so easily. Lucifer thinks this person is buttering them up to get away with things, Belphie remarks how this person must be stalker and Mammon claims what their doing is stupid.
Suddenly it stopped, the little notes in their bag disappeared. At first it didn't bother them since it means their stalker was gone, but overtime they miss the notes, realizing how much it brighten their day a bit. It got to the point that they're trying to find the person, putting their bags at the open and waiting in the corner to catch them. It didn't work and over the month the brothers were getting restless. They were discussing in and empty classroom when they heard people outside, at first they ignored it but what came next caught their attention.
"I'm so glad you stopped doing those notes. They were scum anyway."
"Hell yeah, those assholes fucking better watch their mouths next time they call you a stalker."
"They have the audacity call you that when your trying to be kind to them."
Those words pissed them off a bit, Mammon rushed to the door, intending to give them a piece of his mind when a new voice came.
"Guys, come on the wall have ears, and yeah I'm glad I'm over them. I really did admire them, they have such a healthy relationship with each other even if they're stubborn to admit it but I know they love each other. I really liked them but it looks like it wasn't meant to be."
The brothers waited until their footsteps faded, slowly they came out one by one stunned on what they heard, and the next day they saw Mephistopheles getting little notes is the time they knew they screwed up.
A/N: If you want to expand my idea please be sure to credit me
Tagging: @twiceasfrustrating, @cheesecakethots, @married-to-google-translater
523 notes - Posted April 12, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
MC: My taste in love was shallow, but I improved. I'm dating your brothers.
Demon bros, touched.
Lilith: Are you sure that's an improvement?
646 notes - Posted October 31, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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talking-revolver · 4 months
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I'm sorry if this is stupid, but I'm genuinely unsure if my brain is just being ridiculous or if other people can actually relate to this
I'm very specifically asking my fellow white people living in the global north living close to or below the poverty line:
How do you balance the need to make your own life worth living with the duty to help people who need it? Like, where is the line between "taking care of your mental health" and/or "saving for emergencies", and "being selfish"?
More over, how do you cope with or reason away any irrational guilt that crops up whenever you do spend money on something nice for yourself instead of donating it?
My brain always struggles to logic its way out of the guilt, because in every scenario, the knowledge that I'm already being showered with way more support and opportunities because I'm white overshadows everything. Like, what right do I have to happiness when I'm already living on stolen land, siphoning so many resources from people who might need them more, while whole families die in conflicts my country perpetuates as I sleep in relative comfort? Even when I do donate, or otherwise do something to help someone out, it feels like I'm only barely chipping away at a massive problem that I myself am an inextricable part of. The logical part of me concludes that the most moral choice is to forgo every need I have to make other people's lives better, and never take any opportunity to better my situation, or otherwise devote anything I receive to some other cause. The emotional side of me would rather die than live like that. It feels like finding any middle ground is just making excuses to be selfish.
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nyxknocks · 4 months
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Before I get into this I just wanna preface this by saying that early on in the film (roughly 20 or so minutes) I realized this is essentially the plot of A Bug's Life and I can't separate the two now. ok thank you that's all.
I feel like a huge aspect of this movie is lost to me with my very surface level knowledge of samurai/ronin history, so there are so many things throughout the film that I feel were probably important but meant little to me because I was just sitting there like :D? Like the scene at the beginning with the samurai during the thief in the hut bit? With the shaved head? There was a weird procession following him and it felt like he was going to die. Still confused about that.
It's fascinating seeing the hierarchy of people with the bandits/samurai/farmers. The farmers are at the bottom of this system despite being the one's who provide sustenance to the bandits who raid them, but they are treated as inferior by both the bandits and the samurai who are there to help them out. They are ridiculed and mocked seemingly throughout the whole film--especially with Kikuchiyo, though that's more to do with his past. Even still, with the relationship that develops between Shino and Katsushiro, who's relationship would never be accepted because of their class differences. Obviously as time goes on the villagers and the samurai begin to trust one another and grow, but that sense of class differences never leaves. Even at the end, there seems to be a clear distinction between the samurai and villagers despite them fighting on the same level. At the end, it's transactional.
The scene with the wife during the samurai raid mirrors back to Rashomon, I believe. She has been taken and violated and unable to face her husband or risk his scorn, she opts instead to run back into a burning building and end her life. It's a heartbreaking reminder of how of little import woman were outside of their virtue. Extremely frustrating to witness. It's even solidified even more when Shino's father finds out about her tryst with Katsushiro and beats her. Even in times of strife, women are still just a commodity. This is not surprising given the time period this takes place in as well as the fact that Kikuchiyo is a womanizer. Shino does, however, get a bit of her agency back by turning away from Katsushiro at the end. Deciding her own fate: be it her not having true feelings for him or realizing they wont work out and instead choosing to move on instead of throwing her life away to pine. I believe more so the latter rather than the former.
Katsushiro is the most interesting to me because he goes through the most change, in my opinion. In the beginning he's this polished young rich boy. He's seen with flowers--typically more feminine leaning rather than masculine--and he's often forced to be on the sidelines or run errands. He doesn't fit into the traditional hypermasculine role until basically the end. He becomes a man/"true samurai" when he sleeps with Shino. And then again, when he kills his first man.
Food is the motivator for everyone in this film. The villagers because their crop is being stolen out from under them and also they are, you know, poor. The bandits because, well, they're bandits and why work a field when they can steal someone else's hard work instead. The samurai that end up helping out are one's who can afford to have the dings to their "honor" because they are getting paid in food. Throughout you are repeatedly shown them working barley fields, or people only eating millet. The time you start to see a shift I felt in the samurai's relationships with the villagers is when Kikuchiyo(?) offered the white rice to the children. Food is survival, especially in this era. While the bandits are clearly villains, there is no doubt about it, food is partially what motivates them (I feel) to continue with raiding--especially because they waited for a bigger harvest. No one wants to go hungry. It's terrifying, to starve.
It's hard to put this movie into a box for me. Obviously, it's one of the greatest and most influential films for a reason. And it is good, especially for its time. You can see where so many modern day tropes and styles are based off of this. It's wholly impressive. It, however, did not grab me the way I was expecting it to. Probably because from the jump all I could think about was:
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The cinematography was beautiful, I will say. And you can tell how much effort and money went into this film. The scale of this movie is leagues beyond the one's we've seen so far. Also, I love when movies use real practical effects instead of CGI, so that's a huge bonus about older/black and white films. It always feels more real, more immersive. The scene when the bandits finally start coming and burn the outskirt buildings especially stands out to me because that's when you start to realize how dire this situation actually is. Yeah, it sucked before with the looming dread and fear of being raided, but now you have tangible proof of atrocities that are going to happen and its sobering. No more dicking around. Even Kikuchiyo seemingly straightens out when he rescues the baby and, crying over it, says "this is me. this baby is me." For me, this movie really didn't start getting good until around that part.
Call me heartless, but I was indifferent towards the beginning. Despite the time spent with the characters, I wasn't drawn to any of them. Maybe Katsushiro, because he's endearing and I loved the ~mise en scene~ of him laying in the flower fields. I love soft imagery with the typical masculine roles. Katsushiro felt like someone who wanted to be apart of a set box and was forced to be apart of that set box because of birth, but was more suited to a different light. This is realized, again, when he's in the field later on with Shino and she calls him a coward and to "act like a samurai" (I guess her way of trying to push him into ravishing her? I'm unclear of the motive. I suppose you could say it is easier for her to stomach her feelings if it was forced upon her rather than with the knowledge they can't remain together due to their class status). I don't know. I see the appeal, but I think I was expecting this movie to grab me so much more--emotionally wise, I mean--that I feel somewhat robbed that it didn't.
The slide transitions always make me happy as a Star Wars fan, so that's nice to see. Every character is so expressive all throughout that it's honestly impressive. They all felt like theater/stage actors rather than film actors because of how much emotion was shown. The faces of the villagers at the beginning--the fear and worry. The weathered and aged and slumping stature of the village elders. Everyone felt surprisingly visceral and tangible, which they obviously are because they are real people, but its something I find that lacks in more modern films. Everyone now is too perfect, even the one's who are supposed to be grizzled and ancient. The foley work was also really good, with a few exceptions where the sounds didn't totally line up correctly (when a horse was running, and towards the end when a bandit was slapping/stabbing? someone). The foley work did excellent immersing you even further, especially in the burning scene when you could hear the flames eating away at the huts (though that could've just been the actual fire rather than foley but I digress). I'm a sucker for immersive audio.
Kikuchiyo with a gun:
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Shout out to my man Kikuchiyo for being ass out until the end. Respect.
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I miss you. Not in a healthy way either. My mind bleeds as it searches for the happiness that you once gave me. my heart tearing into two while the feelings that you’ve shown to me has been more than I’ve felt in a while, it’s so horrible to think that someone who is more than a hour or two away could give such comfort and security that I almost die to the thought of not being in your arms, your presence. That was before though, I knew deep down if I let myself be happy with you the knives would eventually find their place in my back. however it was different with you because like no other, you noticed. you saw the changes in me. So when you asked how I felt multiple times until I had told you what worried me most, you reassured me that if I had any doubts or concerns that I could tell him and we’d work something out. He said that he loved me as much as the moon loved the sun. It was sweet. However I have to move on, since I was second choice. I’ve come to understand that when you asked me for advice on the second day of talking, you needed help with an ex that you couldn’t understand. you called them toxic and i can’t say much because I never met them in my life but with the way you played me, my mind could only wonder. at the time with no knowledge as to the pain you had given me, I gave you advice. I told you the best way i thought you could say to get out of the relationship as that’s what you requested and I was gullible. next thing I know we grew closer, we hung out everyday and every hour, we slept on call together because I told you I had trouble sleeping when in reality I never wanted to stop being next to your side. we shared our issues with each other, and one night I even showed you my comfort movie which is quite iconic as at the time you were my comfort person but you had no idea. you have no idea how every time I stop and remember you, the air stops and leaves my chest, butterflies with chemicals forming my stomach and flying out of my mouth and I just cry and wait for a sign that your even the least bit of interest in me so I can be held in your arms once more. When I was upset you would leave everyone and stop what you were doing or saying just to find me and when you found me you would comfort me which not a single soul has done before. I could go on and on about our moments but now I even question rather or not I’m special enough to be sharing them with the ones around me as you’ve seem to have done this with the girl you turned to without a second thought. I mean I tell you that I’m tired of being around and you got the hint, you told me that you didn’t care rather or not we were together, he said he would take his life away but not even an hour later I decided to try and message you but then find out that you had blocked me. I wondered why and cried for hours, I turned to others for safety and all I got was a door to my face. I’m suffering, suffocating. as time passes on I figured I was out of love until I began seeing your name on the suggested of my TikTok account, pressing on your account was the worst feeling ever. My skin trembling as the first view I got was the name of your new girls account. It said you were with her. naturally I looked her account up and honestly I’m not mad. I see what you see in her. I see why you left. She was prettier, she was skinny, she was everything that I couldn’t offer no matter what. Now it only hurts when I remember you as I still have your number in my phone, I still see you online at times on what we would play for days on end.
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seedsofwinter · 2 years
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my heart is not the problem
i’ve been thinking about somethings, regarding my relationships and connections, and wanted to just kinda write it out and throw it into the void rather than have to deal with like people replying to me about their own shit when it’s not about them, or not getting the nuance bc character limits. i miss livej void shouting and was suggested to try here.
so here i go. it’s a bunch of jumbled rambling thoughts, tmi, and tldr.
about 5 years ago, i was in the end of my last major relationship (”major” being something that lasts for more than a year, for my definition.) it would take a few more agonizing months of trying, failing, and ultimately pointing out it wasn’t working and getting told that my soon-to-be-ex had not been in love with me for about 10 months at that point. cool cool cool. he seemed to want to still have SOMETHING with me, so we filled out a “what do you want from this relationship” thing, one of those Relationship Buffet type graphics where each person answers honestly and then you compare.
he wanted to have sex with me still and nothing else. i wanted friendship and connection and nothing else.
this knowledge will fuck me up for a long time.
because when we got together, he’d been THE FIRST person i’d dated who liked me physically. i thought, wow, amazing, someone is ATTRACTED TO ME??
and over the nearly 4 years we were together, i slowly felt worse and worse about this. because i saw what his preference was.... and yes, some people were aesthetic-attraction attractive but also.... people i was like “oh no” about. and i looked at the aesthetically-attractive people (the only attraction mode i actually have that ever feels active; im aroace spec) and i looked at the people who i went “um pass”, and i knew i was in the “um pass” column.
so like, to have him only want to fuck me? a thing i did with him bc it was a tertiary attraction, something i could do with him bc i enjoyed him enjoying it? no. noooo. this did not result in further in-person interaction, and we moved to just being online acquaintances. but i had really loved him; he was the first person i felt what i thought love must feel like, but probably it was just feeling special and attractive to someone that got into my head.
i think it was about a year later that he “admitted” to me that he had run into a few people in that time between who had similar issues that i had (i’m poor, and got a ton of mental health fuckery) and that when he looked at the issues he knew that--if he could find ways past them--who he really wanted to be with was me.
and i told him STOP THAT. i told him I DONT WANT TO BE WITH YOU. i told him JUST DO BETTER WITH PEOPLE IN THE FUTURE, that’s how you can do right be me but STOP WANTING ME. it was gross that he’d tell me that, when i knew what he really missed was the kink and the fucking.
and within 6 months i blocked him. he got weird about being blocked, and a friend sent me screenshots of him LOSING HIS FREAKING MIND in a private group and accusing me of wanting to sleep with people who we had as mutuals, bc he couldn’t understand why i would still be friends with people i met through him if that wasn’t that case. (it’s not and never has been the fucking case. it’s been 5 years: he’s the last person i had sex with. i hope i can find someone else to have sex with before i die so he’s not THE LAST person, but i don’t want to have sex with anyone, and i don’t want relationships. i need to, like, find someone a few years from now to be like “help me not die with the last cock i touched being this shitbag ex of mine’s, and then let’s never see each other ever again.”)
anyway!
a little over 2 years ago, 3 years after that guy, i entered into an online relationship (the type is relevant bc no physical interaction) that lasted about 9, 10 months? they’re a good person. and being in a relationship with them was good for me for about 6 months, after which point i had some old family shit dredged up, and i was dealing with some of the worst dysphoria i’ve ever felt. these were not their fault, but these were pieces of my life which impacted my ability to be a good boyfriend. my own definition of one at least. i’ve since traced back a bunch of my dysphoria to--and again not their fault--the gift of a video chat i gave over the holidays. they’d wanted that, and it felt like not a huge deal. i’d done video chats during the pandemic with friends, and while they were draining for me, i could make that choice knowingly. i thought, too, hey, i’ve sent this person im in a relationship with a chunk of selfies, and we would talk on the phone once a week for hours and hours past when they should’ve been in bed. it’s just moving pictures; they know what i look like, they know what i sound like.
but something about seeing myself in the little image in the corner, and knowing that they could see me, as i look and not as i AM, ugh. that caught right the fuck up in my brain, hard.
so for the last 3 months of that relationship, i tried really hard not to overthink what i looked like, coupled with the depression of family shit (which included a death), but ultimately failed in that endeavor--like failed so hard i stopped taking selfies even just for myself, and maybe i take one but then i see it, cringe, and delete it.
when they finally called me out on my crap, my not talking to them as much or seeming excited to make plans to meet up, i had to be honest and realize i couldn’t give the kind of time that i would want to give them if i was in a good place, and the kind of time they were seeking from a relationship. it let me realize, in general, that i can’t give regular time to anyone. that i’m better off and HAPPIER not in a pairing type relationship.
i’ve considered myself some variation of non-monogamous for at least 15 years, and have never been monogamous, truly. like, even in high school, that just didn’t make sense to me but i didn’t have the words or the maturity to not fuck it up. so finding the, i guess, grace to let myself not want and not seek ANY relationships, both for myself and bc it wouldn’t be fair to whoever i was dating? for nearly a year and a half, that has been great. i’ve felt a lot less stress to date bc i can just say outright and honestly, oh no, i don’t date. i’m a confirmed bachelor, thanks much anyway.
but here’s the problem, the part that i’ve been thinking about a lot lately.
see, people act like if you don’t date, if you don’t Love Someone, that you’re not open to the experiences of love. how can you love if you’re not IN LOVE with a person you’re dating?
i’ve sat with this question. because i do love. i am VERY open with my heart, in fact, because i trust it to a lot of people: i have so many best friends and close friends, and i trust them with my heart. i don’t “trust they’ll never hurt me”, no, i trust that they’re worth the risk, and i’m willing to take it, that chance I'll get hurt emotionally by a friend. i want to love them and experience the love from them in those ways. it is fulfilling, and asks nothing of me that i cannot say no to, nothing that makes me feel guilty for not giving.
then i saw a line in a fandom comic. it’s 2 characters in a ship i adore, they’re having sex for the first time. and one says how they trust the other with their heart and soul; the other says they trust the first with their body.
and that really struck me. because I don't know a single person I trust with my body. i couldn’t imagine it. it was revolting to consider, and i was disgusted thinking about an imaginary-me that would trust like that. what would i have trampled over on my boundaries, to be in such a position again?
and like i said, i’m asexual. i tend to cycle around whether i’m sex-positive, -neutral, -averse, or -repulsed depending on how i’m feeling. but i havent in the past been opposed to physically connecting with a partner. it’s often something that was AT LEAST a small piece of my relationships when all averaged out. i figured it was just something i’d be okay with at some point in the future.
but as vaccines rolled out and the possibility of putting my actual physical body’s safety into someone else’s hands became less of a theory and more of a THING that might happen, it was terrifying. i hadn’t realized and i DIDNT realize until i started thinking about it after that comic’s line, that i don’t trust my body to anyone but myself.
i thought i’d made this realization. this choice. to not date people and not seek it. because I didn't want to disappoint anyone when i am not as emotionally available as they would seek from a partner; that i didn’t want to be seen as cold when i cannot give of myself bc i’ve learned my own boundaries are extremely not in keeping with what the world teaches others to expect from someone who loves them. and these parts are still true but it's so much more that I do not trust anyone would want to be physical with me with good intent. even if know they’re not a bad person.
part of it is, as I’ve become more solid in my gender identity and needs, the desire to be seen in certain ways. but the expectation is the typical ‘person who'd expresses interest in my body’ would subconsciously gender it/me, would sexualize my body parts when that’s not their right. it feels like people have always either not been attracted to me (feels great, super...) or been attracted to pieces of me that i hate (also great, love it!).
before those relationships i mentioned above, i had one that was barely physical, but when it was, i had to stay within my least favored gender mode for her, and she didn’t like her body either so i couldn’t enjoy boosting her up without her feeling dysphoric about it.
i had another relationship that withheld affection when i needed comfort.
i had another relationship that “got it out of the way” in the beginning and we barely ever touched after that bc she mostly liked me for my brain. a year of goodnight kisses, and wondering what i did wrong to see the hesitation any time she reached out to me. (and like i know it’s not my fault, but at the time, it didn’t feel good.)
another was purely a kink relationship, and that was probably the best 3 months of my trusting someone else with my body. bc everything was based around negotiation and consent. it’s honestly a shame that the more recent relationship guy who was into my body has my mind associating kink with really negative stuff, bc i was always a proponent of kink doesn’t have to equal sex; and this relationship really helped me solidify that feeling, as well.
but another, i dealt with fatphobic bullshit, and [cw: mentions of past sexual assaults] he mostly wanted to sexually assault me in my sleep. [/end cw]
another i was hidden and not allowed to talk about us, bc she didn’t want her girlfriend learning she was being unfaithful.
and these are just the people i trusted with my body. like a damn fool. that’s not the physically abusive parents. the other kinds of bodily abusive adults and schoolmates. my body has NEVER BEEN SAFE except when i’m in control.
so sure, i can give the trust of my heart just fine. but i can’t imagine trusting another person with my body ever again.
and that makes me feel... so much more broken than when i first thought about it all. when i thought no, this is a boundary, and it’s good and healthy. now im not so sure. but im not willing to try, on the off chance i was right and shouldn’t be trusting anyone but myself on this.
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starryhyuck · 3 years
Text
pretty girl. (m)
Tumblr media
pairing: alpha!jaemin x reader
words: 4.3k+
summary: you hate that jaemin follows you around every full moon. you’re determined to know the reason why, but you end up getting more than you asked for.
genre: fluff, smut
warnings: large amounts of cum, manhandling, breeding, knotting, overstimulation, fingering, hair pulling, rough sex, oral sex
“It’s dangerous for you to be out here.”
You blink twice at Jaemin, who is hovering protectively over your form. As your best friend, Jaemin’s always been cautious of you because of his alpha instincts. This oddly includes finding him in your apartment on random days, cooking you dinner because you ‘can’t make it yourself,’ walking you around campus and glaring at anyone who glances your way, and finally, following you to places he should never be at anyways. Tonight falls under the last category, where you were itching to have a nice time with some of your group partners in your Economics class. You all collectively agreed that grabbing drinks at the nearby bar on campus was a good idea. Everything was going perfectly until Jaemin came storming into the bar, almost pushing one of your friends from his spot next to you.
You awkwardly clear your throat, laughing breathily as you stand, trying to move Jaemin away from the table. You can feel the heavy stares of your classmates on your back, and you try your best to ignore it. Once you’re out of earshot, you mumble lowly to him.
“Uh, Jaem, why are you here?”
He frowns at you. The expression on his face is clearly one of disappointment. “It’s a full moon. You shouldn’t be out here, especially if there are other alphas lurking around.”
You tend to frequently forget that Jaemin gets extremely clingy when the full moon rises, and he often perceives most of the population as a threat to your life. In fact, you’re both very good friends with Jeno, another fellow alpha on campus. Jeno’s shown time after time that he has absolutely no interest in you, but when the full moon appears, Jaemin’s convinced that Jeno wants to kidnap you and keep you locked in his dorm forever.
You sigh. “Jaemin, I’m fine. I’m just hanging out with my friends. There are no alphas around, I promise.”
His frown grows deeper. “I passed two of them on the way here. They could have easily hurt you.”
“How about you have a drink with us?” You offer, knowing his worries aren’t subsiding anytime soon. “You can relax and make sure I’m safe.”
The tension in his shoulders loosen at your suggestion, and he hesitantly agrees. You order a beer for him and he reluctantly follows you back to the table. Your friends are eyeing him warily.
“Everyone, this is Jaemin,” you introduce awkwardly. “Is it okay if he joins us?”
Jeongyeon is the first to speak, despite everyone’s reluctance. “Sure, the more the merrier!”
You toss her a grateful smile and Jaemin slides in next to you, unaware of the looks he’s receiving. Luckily, Seulgi launches into a discussion about her day before anyone else can comment. It isn’t long before Chanwoo leans over to whisper in your ear, causing Jaemin to stiffen beside you.
“Is your friend okay? He looks like he hates all of us.”
You brush off Chanwoo’s question. “He’s fine, just tense. Rough time in the semester, you know?”
Chanwoo nods but doesn’t seem convinced by your answer. No one else approaches you about Jaemin for the rest of the time, and the boy next to you chooses to remain silent. You bid goodbye to the group at the end of the night with Jaemin giving subtle nods to each of them. He still hovers protectively over you on the walk back to the campus dorms.
“You really didn’t have to come out tonight,” you mumble to your best friend as he walks alongside you. “I was fine on my own.”
“You’re not fine on nights like these,” he responds, and you can hear the frustration in his tone. “You don’t know what’s out there.”
You huff and stop in your tracks, turning around to face him. You cross your arms over your chest.
“No one is going to hurt me! No one has ever tried to hurt me on a full moon, it’s just your imagination! It’s annoying how much you follow me around, Jaemin, seriously.”
He’s visibly hurt by your outburst and you instantly feel regret. You can almost feel him shutting you away, and it pulls at your chest. He motions to your dorm, which is only a few feet away from where you’re standing.
“Good night. I hope you sleep well.”
“Jaemin-“
You watch as your best friend scurries down the sidewalk, not sparing a single glance back at you.
You startle Jeno the next day, pounding on his door and ignoring the glares you’re receiving in his hallway. The boy sleepily opens the door up for you, hair sticking out in multiple directions. He mumbles something under his breath and you ignore him, pushing through and entering his room.
“Well, come on in,” he hisses sarcastically.
You have no time to humor him. “Are alphas usually super clingy and annoying?”
He pauses at the question, closing the door slowly. You raise an eyebrow at his hesitation.
“Um, is this about Jaemin?”
“Maybe,” you drawl, watching Jeno carefully. He definitely knows something he’s not telling you about. “And what if it was?”
“Then I would say you need to talk to Jaemin.”
You roll your eyes. “Jeno!”
“What?” He retorts, avoiding your eyes as much as possible. “It’s not my place to say.”
“I don’t care if it’s your place or not,” you say, frustrated by your lack of alpha knowledge. You’ve tried to learn more since Jaemin presented himself, but it was difficult since many alpha secrets were kept between alphas only. “I need to know what’s going on with him. He’s been following me around every full moon like he’s expecting me to get mugged or something!”
Jeno exhales loudly. “He hasn’t talked to you? About anything?”
You huff. “Jeno, if I needed answers, I wouldn’t be standing here with you.”
The more you talk, the more Jeno grows uncomfortable. It almost seems like it pains him to say anything about Jaemin without him present, and it’s getting on your nerves. Jaemin usually never keeps secrets from you and it must be pretty big if Jeno is barely holding himself together.
Jeno finally speaks after you watch him run circles in his head. “What do you know about mates? Alpha mates?”
You frown, tilting your head to the side. “Mates? I didn’t even know alphas had mates.”
“They’re chosen specifically by an alpha. Someone the alpha has a connection to, someone they would like to spend the rest of their life with.”
He’s still not making any sense to you. Does Jaemin have a mate? Is it someone you know?
Jeno can see the gears spinning and he scoffs. He whispers something under his breath that you can’t hear.
“You need to talk to Jaemin about this. I really can’t say any more.”
You spare Jeno the interrogation and leave his room, thoughts swirling in your head. He’s given you everything and nothing at once, and you don’t even know if Jaemin will offer anything better. You trek over to his dorm anyways, on a mission.
His eyes soften when he sees you behind the door. It tugs at your heartstrings and he motions for you to come inside. The awkward tension drowns the room and you sway on your feet.
“I’m sorry,” he says first. “I know I made you uncomfortable by being with your friends last night, and I should’ve stayed away. I just get very worried around the full moon because-“
“What are alpha mates?”
Jaemin chokes, not expecting your question. You watch as he gathers himself again, and this time, he can’t bear to look at you.
“Where did you hear that from?”
“Jeno.”
Jaemin curses lowly. You frown, your gaze never faltering. You can practically see him trying to come up with some type of excuse.
“Jaemin, I want the truth.”
He sighs. “Can you sit down? Please?”
You reluctantly follow his request, taking a seat on his bed. He paces around the room, looking more nervous than you’ve ever seen him before. You begin to grow antsy while watching him.
“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine.”
His head snaps up to look at you, heart breaking at the dejected look on your face. He shakes his head and takes a seat next to you.
“I do, I want to tell you everything. I just want you to have a choice first,” he states, staring at you as if you hold all the answers.
You frown and shake your head. “What choice? You’re not making any sense.”
“I, uh, I unknowingly bonded myself to you. You became my mate, and I realized it too late. We spent too much time together and I should have taken a step back before it got too serious. I was just- I’m never in the correct headspace when I’m around you, and it causes me to impulsively make decisions. I can’t break the bond unless I wish to die a slow death, but if you want me to, I can try.”
You’re spiraling. Your brain is short circuiting, and you’re unsure of what to say in response. Your best friend has just confessed that he bonded himself to you for life, which probably runs deeper than marriage. If you reject him, he’ll die a painful death.
Wonderful.
Jaemin starts freaking out, standing back up and resuming his pacing. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have left weeks ago, I shouldn’t even be bothering you with this. Listen, we can forget this ever happened. I’ll just- I’ll figure something out. Surely, I can break the bond-“
“Jaemin,” you say timidly. He stops in his tracks at the sound of your voice. “I think I’m okay with being your mate. I mean, I’d rather have it be you than anyone else. Not like you’re my second choice or anything! I just-“
He kneels down, his hands resting on the expanse of your thighs, causing you to jolt at the contact. His hands feel oddly warm, and it’s sending a plethora of dirty thoughts to your head.
“I don’t want you to do this because you feel bad,” he speaks softly. “If you don’t want this, we don’t have to do it. It’s my fault, and I’ll pay the price.”
You protest. “No, I’m doing this because I want to-“
“It’s a big decision-“
“I know that, and I-“
“I hardly think you’ve thought through this carefully-“
“Don’t tell me what I haven’t done-“
“I’ll just move away. It’ll be easier for the both of us that way.”
“Jaemin,” you hiss, placing your hands on his shoulders to stop him. “Can you quit being so difficult? I’m telling you I want to be with you and your rejection is making me feel upset.”
His expression falls. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I don’t want to cage you in, that’s all.”
“You aren’t caging me in,” you promise him. “Can you tell me what being a mate entails?”
He flushes deep red, and you grow anxious once again. He removes his hands from your thighs and you silently wish he kept them there. He stands again, avoiding your questioning gaze.
“Um, well, technically- I mean, it’s just-“
“Jaemin,” you say sternly. “Stop dancing around the subject.”
He clears his throat. “Technically, we’re not fully mated yet. In order to complete the bonding process, we need to- um, well, we need to-“
“Jaemin!”
“We need to fuck!”
That definitely floors you. You blink at him, not believing what he said. You haven’t slept with anyone in months. You’re not going to lie — you’ve thought about Jaemin in that way a handful of times, mostly when it’s late at night and you’re left with an imaginative mind. You didn’t realize it could ever become a reality.
He starts rambling again. “Of course, I don’t want to make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with. I can’t imagine me putting my dick anywhere near you is appealing at the moment, so we can probably just forget it and-“
You say his name again to bring him out of his thoughts. “Can we try?”
He sputters, more than the last time. “W-What?”
“I mean, it can’t hurt, right? I trust you.”
“U-Uh, um, uh, I-“ He short circuits in front of you, struggling to find coherent words.
You don’t give him time to second guess again, immediately falling to your knees and reaching for the band of his sweatpants.
“Woah, woah, wait, let me just-“
Your mouth waters when you pull his cock out from his briefs, the tip already red and leaking. You don’t know if it’s because he’s an alpha, but his cock is absurdly large and thick. You can barely wrap your hand around the base and the thought of taking him into your mouth is daunting, but you would regret it if you didn’t try. You take an experimental lick, watching the way Jaemin struggles above you.
“Slow down, we don’t have to do this now-“
You ignore him again, enveloping the tip in your mouth as he releases a long groan. Your eyes flutter shut, pushing him deeper and deeper into your throat. You run your tongue along the base of his cock, licking and swallowing him. He’s barely holding on to the last string of his control, and you can tell by the way his hands are clenched at his sides.
You decide to push him further, casually deepthroating him and locking your gaze with his. The sound of you choking on him snaps him awake, and it isn’t long before he’s gripping your hair and throwing you on his bed. You squeal at the force of his movements. He pushes you on your stomach, fingers gripping the flesh of your ass.
He hisses in your ear. “You’re going to be a good girl for your alpha, aren’t you?”
“I’ll be good, alpha,” you keen. “I’m good for you.”
“Yeah?” He grunts, watching as you arch your back. “You’ve been waiting a long time for me, haven’t you?”
“So long,” you practically sob. “Just want my alpha to make me feel good.”
You hear the rip of your skirt and he tears the fabric of your top, tossing both items across the room. He’s feral at this point and you have no intention of stopping him. It feels electrifying to have him this close to you, touching you in all the places you never thought before.
Even though he’s your best friend, it feels as if he’s been doing this with you for years. He doesn’t feel like a stranger as he grabs your waist, finger running up and down your clothed slit.
“Aw, pretty girl, look at how wet you are for me,” he muses, pulling your underwear down to fully see you. “So beautiful. Is this all for me?”
“Yes,” you whimper. “All for you, just for you.”
You see stars when he sinks his finger into you, moaning at his touch. You hear him murmur behind you.
“So so perfect, so pretty and wet. You’re so good for your alpha.”
You flourish under Jaemin’s praises, his eyes observing as you submit further to him. You wish you read more on the subject of alphas and their mates. The way Jaemin’s touching you is sending your mind into overdrive, and you’re not even sure what to do when you hear the slick of your cunt as he slides another finger into you. He’s cooing at you, chanting how you’re such a ‘good girl’ for him.
You shut your eyes as he builds a steady pace with his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot. You moan loudly, not registering the volume of your voice. He doesn’t seem to mind you being loud either.
“Such pretty noises,” he hums, digging his other hand into your side and picking up the pace inside of you. You cry and squirm away from him, but he holds you in place. “I imagined for so long what you would sound like. Full moons were the worst. I couldn’t bear the thought of someone else being able to see you like this, touch you like this. You drove me insane.”
“J-Jaemin,” you whimper, getting closer and closer to snapping.
He hums again in response. “Almost there, sweet girl? You’re so pliant for me, so easy to fuck. But it’s all for me and only me, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, yes, only for you, alpha,” you whisper, fingers gripping the sheets as you near the edge.
“Pretty little pussy you have, I can’t wait to knot you. You’re going to take my knot so well, aren’t you? I chose you to take it, and to stuff your cunt full of my cum. I wonder how I could fit my cock into you, you seem too small to take it, pretty girl.”
“I-I can t-take it,” you struggle to get the words out, your brain turning a bit fuzzy. Once he brushes your sweet spot again, your body explodes and you sob loudly at the intensity of your orgasm. Jaemin praises you throughout it, eyes locked on your cunt gushing into his palm.
“So pretty, such a pretty girl. You came so much for me.”
As you float down from your high, you can hear the sound of Jaemin greedily licking his fingers. You nearly scream when you feel his tongue prod at your pussy.
“No, n-no, Jaem, please-“ you begin to beg, squeamish from the overstimulation, but it’s useless. He loves the taste of your cunt already, digging in like it’s his last meal.
Your body begins to ache and you slowly sink down on the bed, tired of arching your back. Jaemin doesn’t seem to mind, following you down as he slurps up your cunt. You’re mumbling incoherent noises as he sucks on your folds, and you can feel his smile when he plays with your clit.
“Alpha,” you whisper breathlessly. “Alpha, I can’t.”
He clicks his tongue. “I know you can. I chose you because you can. Take what I give you, pretty girl. I know you can be good for me.”
You lay there, boneless, as he dips his tongue into your entrance. You barely scream when your second orgasm rolls over you, the sound catching in your throat. He licks up the evidence and you try to wave your hand back to stop him. He gets the message, pulling back and wiping his chin with the back of his hand.
“You taste so sweet, pretty girl. I’ve never tasted a cunt that good before. All for me, right?”
“Yes,” you answer. “All for you, alpha.”
You hear him shifting behind you, and you see him toss his clothes over his shoulder. He picks you up and adjusts you until you’re seated on his lap, hovering just above his cock. He takes note of your sleepy gaze and smiles, kissing down your neck.
“Tired, sweet girl? Don’t want to take my cock anymore?”
You blearily blink. “No, no, I want to take your cock, alpha. Please give it to me.”
He chuckles at your compliance, eyes zeroing in on your glistening pussy. “You’ve been so good for me. Want your reward now?”
“Yes, yes, alpha.”
He suddenly turns serious, brushing your hair away and cupping your cheeks.
“This means forever. I want you to understand that.”
It’s a little frightening — the thought of being bound to someone forever. However, you’re willing to do anything for Jaemin, and you know he loves you. You’re blissfully happy at the thought of forever.
You nod, smiling. “Want to be with you, Jaem.”
He grins and presses a kiss to your lips. “Good girl.”
Your smile quickly turns into a gasp as he pushes you down on his cock. You scramble in his hold, fingers digging into his shoulders.
He shushes you softly. “It’s okay, pretty girl. I got you, trust me.”
Head thrown back and lips parted, you feel utterly fucked as Jaemin impales you. You weren’t even aware your cunt could stretch this far for him, taking him in. The stretch doesn’t hurt like you think it will, it feels surprisingly satisfying. You feel whole like this, finally connecting him to you.
Once he bottoms out, he gives you time to adjust. You don’t even realize you’re crying until he wipes stray tears from your cheek.
“You’re doing so well for me, sweet girl. Took my cock so well. I know you’ll take my knot like a champ too.”
You feel drunk on him despite the fact that his cock could split you in half. You take a few more seconds to yourself before you nod, giving him the okay to move.
He starts out gently, even though you can see him clenching his teeth trying to control himself. You decide to push him.
You lean in and whisper in his ear. “Fuck me good, alpha. Show me I’m yours, and yours only.”
He throws you back down onto the bed, growling at your submission. You cry when he drills into you, showing no mercy any longer. His cock is tearing you apart and you welcome it with open arms. His fingers dig roughly into your scalp, his other hand groping your breast.
“You like it when your alpha fucks you like this? You like it when I have control of you?” He practically growls at you, hips snapping into your thighs roughly. Your mouth hangs open, and if you were lucid, you would be embarrassed by the drool pooling at the side of your lips. He continues muttering obscenities at you, fueled by the feeling of your warm pussy wrapped around his cock. “Gonna fuck you until you can’t think of anyone else. Every time you touch yourself, you’re going to think about me. Only me. I’m going to make sure everyone knows you’re mine, make sure you’re pretty and pregnant for me.”
His fingers move from your breast into your mouth, and you subconsciously suck on the digits.
He snickers. “Look at you. Such a pretty fuck toy for me, taking my cock so well. You were made to be fucked, sweet girl. Made to take my cock and my cock only.”
You’re definitely out of coherent thoughts at this point. Jaemin flips you again, arching your back and you whimper at the ache. He drives into you harder and faster from behind, his balls slapping against your cunt in the most unholy way.
“Alpha, alpha, alpha,” you groan. “My alpha. So good, my alpha, so good. So big.”
“Need you to cum, sweet girl. Want to feel it. Give it to me, pretty girl.”
“Alpha, alpha,” you whimper, the coil in your stomach building and building. You soar when it snaps, and you swear you see white clouding your vision. You cry and cry, tears freely falling down your face as you clench around Jaemin.
You think you pass out for a few seconds. When you regain your strength, he’s flipped you on your side, gripping your ankle as he throws your foot over his shoulder. You let him do whatever he wants at this point, enjoying the way he presses against your clit every time he pushes in.
You can only hear parts of what he’s saying, a ringing sound still echoing in your ears.
“So good- such a pretty cunt- want to fuck you forever- going to show you off- beautiful- fucking pretty pussy- such a good girl for me.”
“J-Jaem,” you say, but you know he can’t hear you anymore. You think you have another orgasm, but the pleasure is mixing together too fast. You blackout again, waking up moments later to find Jaemin still fucking you senseless.
You’re on your back again with Jaemin hovering over you, pressing kisses down your neck. He’s muttering praises still, hands digging into your sides.
“Want to feel you forever. So good for me, pretty girl. You ready to take my knot?”
You lazily comb your fingers through his hair, feeling exhausted. “Please, alpha, give it to me.”
“Yeah?” He groans, pressing harder into you. “Want me?”
“I want you, I want you,” you echo, the familiar sensation pulsing through your veins.
He’s drilling faster now, pumping furiously into you as he chases his high. You think you’re screaming, but you can’t be entirely sure. You feel bad for whoever lives on Jaemin’s floor.
When he cums, you swear he’s been holding it in for years. His cum splashes against your walls as he empties himself inside of you. You squeeze around him again, finishing another orgasm.
It’s a few minutes later when you think it’s finally over. You start to relax, but the feeling is short lived. You sob when the base of Jaemin’s cock begins to swell, growing bigger and bigger.
“N-No, no, no, no-“
He shushes you. “It’s okay, pretty girl. You take my knot so well, I have so much cum for you.”
You swear you’ve lost your mind when Jaemin does, in fact, give you even more of his cum. It starts to leak out of your cunt because of the sheer amount, and he urges you through it with soft kisses. When he’s finally done, you feel like you’ve been fucked into the next century.
The only thing you can manage to say is, “You can’t fuck me again for three months, at least.”
He laughs at you and you try to throw him a serious look. He kisses your cheek.
“Oh, silly girl. What did I tell you before? I chose you because you’re made for me. You honestly don’t think I’m going to stop fucking you now, do you?”
Your eyes widen at his confession, and you shriek when he thrusts into you, his cock still hard.
“Such a pretty girl.”
3K notes · View notes
astaroth1357 · 3 years
Text
How Often They Worry about MC…
For those who don’t know, I have a little dog named Charlie and she is a large portion of my world. There's no need to be alarmed, my dog is fine, but there are days where I hold her and all I can think about is how much I worry about her health down the line… I suppose we often do that for the people we love, particularly the ones who may not last as long as we will. Take that as inspiration if you'd like.
Lucifer 
Near constantly. 
If you tracked his blood pressure on a grid, you'd see it start to continuously rise about when he decided they were worth having in his life.
Lucifer is the eldest sibling to a whole crew of brothers so he's no stranger to worry. He worried about his brothers when they were young, he worried about them after the Fall, and he still worries about them now (even if he's less open about it).
But a part of him knows that his brothers can handle their own, at least to varying degrees. The MC, though? He's far less sure…
They've proven rather resilient, but also headstrong and reckless. Neither of which are good things to be in a place this dangerous...
If Lucifer isn't careful, he can catch himself staring at a wall or window just wondering where they are and if they're doing alright… If he called them every time he had a passing worry, their inbox would be full by the end each week.
He holds himself back because he doesn't have the time to constantly protect them, but that doesn't stop him from sending a text once or twice a day. They better respond or he'll start (secretly) panicking.
Mammon
He forgets their mortality from time to time, but every time he remembers it hits like a ton of bricks…
Mammon is a pretty "in-the-moment" person. He doesn't spend a lot of time dwelling on the future, but whenever he does the thought of losing MC always comes back to him again and again.
Like. It's gotta happen eventually, right? They're human, humans die, hell they don't even live that long to start with!
The MC can always tell when Mammon's getting worried because he'll get uncharacteristically quiet and pace around or hover by them…
Every little injury or strenuous task will suddenly seem like too much to him as well. 
If they need to carry some boxes, he'll carry them all.
If they have to jog to class, he's carrying them. 
If they so much as get a papercut, he'll have a heart attack.
It's not very hard to get Mammon out of these funks - he really does want them to reassure him that they're okay - but he's never going to get fully over it…
Not until he can steal whatever top secret immortality formula Solomon must have used anyway… He'll get it off that bastard eventually.
Leviathan
Thinks about it so often he has to actively try not to just to get any peace…
He dodges his fears for MC like a protagonist dodges lasting consequences. Every time he feels one creeping up, he's always got a distraction waiting…
"Hey where's MC at? I hope they didn't fall into the riv-OH HEY CHECK OUT THIS NEW GAME!!"
"What are they doing over there…? That looks hard, what if they bre-WAIT DIDN'T MY FAVORITE VOICE ACTOR JUST RELEASE A NEW PODCAST???"
"What if the MC dies tomorrow and they leave me all alo-DEVIL FIGHT 200! YOU CAN'T BEAT DEVIL FIGHT 200, LET’S BREAK MY HIGH SCORE!!"
Cut him some slack, his psyche cannot handle the idea of losing them on top of everything else he grapples with every day.
If, on the rare occasion, he does let himself fall down that rabbit hole he becomes extra clingy and practically begs MC not to leave his room… like ever. He'd bubble wrap them if he could.
Anytime they get really hurt or really sick he refuses to leave their side even if it means he has to awkwardly sit on the floor. He just needs to be able to glance at them every so often to be sure they're alive… Still breathing?? Phew…
Satan
He worries, preps, rationalizes, then worries again…
For Satan, knowledge is power and every scrap of information he can learn about MC is more power he can use to keep them safe and healthy.
Yes, he will want their medical history. Yes, he's going to need a list of prescriptions. Family members too. And no, you do not get a choice.
He'll read up on as many things as he can - pawn medical journals off of witches and get magical alternatives from Solomon.
The cycle usually goes: 
1. He's lying awake at night because he just heard about some terrible bacteria that makes human's skin peel off or something.
2. He does all the research he can on this bacteria, its treatment options, best prevention methods, etc.
3. Gets right about to break out the rubber booties for MC to wear around, then realizes they have a very slim chance of catching said bacteria since it's only native to incredibly remote parts of Indonesia.
4. Feels instant relief that MC will probably not catch flesh-eating bacteria and can finally sleep again…
5. Hears of some other human medical horror from Solomon and starts to worry…
It's a vicious cycle indeed… But at least he's getting a lot of medical training. Soon enough he'll be the Devildom's version of a human vet (which I guess is just a doctor, come to think of it. 🤔)
Asmodeus 
Lives so "here-and-now" that he doesn't remember often, but when he does it's always heartbreaking…
Asmo usually tries to worry about things as little as possible. It’s bad for the skin, you know? But when the MC is involved, all of that goes out the window.
Like how a delicate blossom eventually wilts in the snow, the MC is bound to leave them in time… Usually there's supposed to be something beautiful in that kind of tragedy, but perhaps he's just too close to them to find any romance in it.
The thought of their death gives him breakouts and anytime they get hurt or sick he's the first brother to offer them comfort. Every time.
Because he doesn't feel like he's as physically strong as he brothers, he tries to make up for it by minding their health in other ways. Anything to keep his MC strong and beautiful as always!
If Asmo is in a worrying mood, then he may also compensate by trying to take the MC out to a party or some fun event. Why sit around worrying by himself when he could be making memories with them now, right?
Beelzebub
It comes in waves, mostly at night.
When your thoughts throughout the day are mostly, "I wish I wasn't so hungry," it doesn't afford you a lot of time to think about much else.
In a way, it's a good thing since he experiences a lot less stress. But those worries are still there and they mostly plague his dreams…
Beel doesn’t feel hungry when he's sleeping, so a lot of his fears will make themselves known overnight. An injured or dying MC is often in his rotation of nightmares though, of course, he'd rather it not be…
After having one of these dreams, his first instinct is to always make sure the MC is okay. If they're with him, he'll hug them and check their heartbeat. If they're somewhere else, he'll go to them or shoot a text.
He has woken up without realizing his nightmare was all a dream though, and usually it's up to Belphie or MC themselves to console him while he cries… It's so heartbreaking, sweet boy just puts a lot of pressure on himself to be sure they're safe…
When he worries, it's like they're the most beautiful and expensive China set in a room full of bulls and hammers. If he could tape them to his side, he probably would. He gets scared for them that much…
Belphegor 
More scared about it than anyone else in the House.
Despite his calm demeanor, Belphie is truly afraid of losing his loved ones beneath the surface… He's already lost one of his most dear siblings before, going through that again may just break him.
Unfortunately, he's also felt just how fragile the MC is firsthand... He's not even the strongest of his brothers, yet he was able to snuff them out so easily… Who's to say someone else won't try?
Like Beel, MC's death is a recurring nightmare for him but he can usually shake off his dreams fairly well, if not change them mid-sleep. More scary is when something is actually wrong with them or they're not feeling well.
Belphie always sets his inner laziness aside for the MC when he can. If they get sick, he'll usually be right along with his family to take care of them - even if he has to skip school to do so (not that he cares about class anyway).
When he's worrying about them, he tries to play it off at first, but soon enough they'll notice him acting overly concerned and losing sleep… Best to calm him down before he starts getting cranky.
2K notes · View notes
robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
Note
Prompt: WWX is one of JGS's bastard sons, raised by his mother and her husband - until they die when he's young. Then he gets taken into the Jin sect instead of the Jiang.
Right Hand Man - ao3
It was a bad day.
All the days were a little bad, but this one was especially bad.
“He’s Cangse Sanren’s child,” Jin Zixuan’s father said, tapping his fan against his palm so that he would look more like a scholar. Secretly, shamefully, Jin Zixuan thought that it didn’t really work – he just looked like one of those scoundrels that tried to pay for their meals with calligraphy instead of pennies. “Taking him in will show our strength.”
“You dare bring one of your bastard children here,” Jin Zixuan’s mother said, “and I will drown A-Xuan myself rather than let him suffer through the shame of it.”
Jin Zixuan shivered. No matter how many times he heard his mother say that in her cold and vicious voice, he never got used to it. She’d explained to him that it was the only thing that might work on his father – the fear of losing face like that, of shaming his ancestors, of cutting off his legitimate line – and she was his mother so of course Jin Zixuan believed her, but sometimes when she said it like that he thought she might really go ahead and do it.
“It’s the immortal mountain,” his father argued, ignoring the threat. “The perceived connection is only to our benefit…and anyway, he wouldn’t be legitimized or anything. Legally, his father is that Wei Changze – I could even bring the boy in as a servant if that pleased you more!”
“Nothing you say or do will ever please me,” she said, and that’s when she started throwing things and he started shouting and Jin Zixuan waited until they weren’t paying any attention to him before slipping out.
They’d make a decision one way or another.
It didn’t have anything to do with him.
-
Wei Wuxian was nominally brought in as a guest disciple, but everyone knew he was really a servant.
Jin Zixuan’s mother made sure everyone knew.
Despite this, Wei Wuxian smiled at everyone, seeming as carefree as a butterfly. It didn’t seem to bother him when he wasn’t allowed to wear sparks amidst snow, or even the usual gold of the guest disciples – Jin Zixuan’s mother said that it was better that he wear plain colors, like white or black, to represent his father and mother and show the world that he hadn’t forgotten his filial piety. It didn’t seem to bother him that he had to room with the other servants, or that he wasn’t invited to dinner at the same time as the rest of them, or that he got less training time –
Whatever it was, it didn’t bother him.
It bothered Jin Zixuan, though.
He started having the old nightmares again – the ones where his mother belatedly found out that he’d been swapped in the cradle for another bastard child of Jin Guangshan, and started treating him just the way she treated all the rest of them while praising some other boy up to the heavens – and his temperament, never considered especially good, got worse due to lack of sleep.
“Go talk to him,” Mianmian suggested. “Maybe if you see he’s reallynot bothered by it…”
“It doesn’t matter if he’s not bothered,” Jin Zixuan muttered. “It’s that I would be bothered if I were him.”
She didn’t understand, of course. Most people didn’t.
They couldn’t understand why Jin Zixuan was so bothered by the knowledge that his parents’ love was conditional on his bloodline and legitimacy – after all, he was the beneficiary of that bias, wasn’t he? What did it matter to him if they were cold to others?
Jin Zixuan didn’t know how to explain that the problem was in knowing that their love was conditional.
It didn’t help that Wei Wuxian was excelling despite all his disadvantages – all their teachers praised him in private, or else when they thought that no one surnamed Jin was listening. All of his mother’s dark speculations about what his father would do if ever there was a bastard child brought back that turned out to be even more talented than he was rang in Jin Zixuan’s ears, and he couldn’t help but look at Wei Wuxian, and wonder if this was it, this was the moment, if he was finally going to be replaced…but no, that would never happen. He was the one with the right blood.
It didn’t matter if he wasn’t actually the best.
Nothing he did in life mattered, really. Nothing had ever mattered since the day he’d been born from the right womb.
“He’s actually really nice,” Mianmian said, and Jin Zixuan looked up, wondering what she was talking about, only to blanch when he realized that she was talking to Wei Wuxian. “Just shy, that’s all –”
“Mianmian!” Jin Zixuan hissed, rushing over, horrified. “He can’t be here! If my mother finds out –”
“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Wei Wuxian asked, his face brightening. “I thought you just didn’t like me!”
“I don’t know you,” Jin Zixuan said. “How could I dislike you? But really, my mother –”
“We can be friends!” Wei Wuxian declared, and Jin Zixuan was rendered immediately mute. What exactly could he say to that?
He wanted to be friends, too.
-
His mother found out, because she always found out, and when she did, she threatened to feed Wei Wuxian to the dogs.
It turned out that Wei Wuxian was scared of dogs, something Jin Zixuan’s mother had figured out pretty quickly. That wasn’t a surprise – she knew best how to find people’s weaknesses, and also how to use them. Looking at Wei Wuxian’s sickly pale face, it was clear to Jin Zixuan that this wasn’t the first time dogs had appeared in one of his mother’s punishment, although this was clearly more severe than in the past.
“It was my idea,” he lied, acting on impulse. “Mother, I want him to be my personal servant.”
“Ridiculous,” she scoffed.
“Why is it ridiculous?” he asked. “Wouldn’t the contrast between us only be magnified that way?”
She pursed her lips, but that wasn’t a ‘no’.
Seeing a possible waver, Jin Zixuan decided to trade away one of the very few point on which he and his mother had long disagree.
“He’s charming,” he said. “He can help me woo the Jiang sect girl.”
His mother knew him well enough to know that he was trying to manipulate her, but he also knew that she liked it when he did that. Men were supposed to be upright, straightforward, and virtuous, and yet she liked to see him being subtle and sly – it reminded her of herself. It made her feel like he was more her blood than his father’s, even though in actuality those traits could very well be his father’s, too.
Unfortunately, sneakiness wasn’t really in Jin Zixuan’s nature. Comparing his straightforward and even a little stupid self to his clever and cunning parents, he didn’t know who he took after – it was part of the reason he had so many nightmares about being some cuckoo’s child left in the Jin sect’s nest.
“Fine,” his mother said at last. “He gets one shot.”
Later, when she’d swept off, an empress with her retinue, Mianmian looked at Jin Zixuan with wide eyes. “But Jin-gongzi,” she said. “You don’t wantto marry the Jiang sect girl.”
“I’ve never met her,” Jin Zixuan hedged, which was also true but a little vaguer. He didn’t want to marry a girl he’d never met, one who was several years his elder and who had been described to him only as ‘nice’ and ‘average at best’, just because her mother was his mother’s old friend. He didn’t want his marriage to be yet another thing he had to do because he was someone’s child, rather than his own man.
He wasn’t going to get a choice, though, no matter what he did, just as always. Might as well use it for something good.
Wei Wuxian crashed into him a moment later, clutching him so tightly that it hurt.
“I’ll pay you back,” he promised, his voice tight. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be your best friend ever!”
“That’s good enough,” Jin Zixuan said, his face suddenly hot. “There doesn’t need to be anything more.”
-
Wei Wuxian really was very charming when they went to visit the Lotus Pier, far more charming than Jin Zixuan ever was or would be, and his future bride seemed positively enchanted by him, which was probably a bad thing.
Jin Zixuan felt he should probably do something about it, but he didn’t know what, so he just snuck off and went to go dip his feet into the river, something he almost never got the chance to go while at home.
“I’m sorry,” the Jiang sect heir, Jiang Cheng, said, sitting gingerly next to him.
Jin Zixuan looked at him sidelong, a little surprised. He’d thought that Jiang Cheng hated him. “What for?”
“My sister. Your half-brother.” Jiang Cheng looked uncomfortable. “I can’t even imagine growing up with someone who’d flirt with the person I was engaged to.”
Jin Zixuan thought it over, then shook his head. “I don’t think he likes her like that. Or her him, either,” he said, since it seemed like Jiang Cheng had misunderstood both Wei Wuxian and his own sister. “Wei Wuxian’s just – like that,” he added. “Always. Everyone loves him unless they’re specifically told not to.”
“That’s worse.” Jiang Cheng wrinkled his nose. “He’s the ‘other person’s child’ here, you know. My father really liked his parents – he’s always talking about him. My mother says he wishes he were his son, instead of your father’s.”
“Now that sounds awful.” Probably better for Wei Wuxian, though. Jiang Fengmian would probably treat him like a real son, not the way Jin Guangshan did, like a pawn or a liability or a bastard brought in just for his possible connections – but it would probably be much worse for Jiang Cheng, who’d have to live with that happening right in front of him. It seemed mean to wish for such a thing. “He’s actually pretty nice? We’re friends. I asked him to help me make friends with your sister…I’m not really good at making friends, when it’s just me.”
He hadn’t expected them to hit it off that well, though. At least to Jin Zixuan’s eyes, they’d clearly all but adopted each other as brother and sister the moment they laid eyes on each other…which in his opinion was actually a little bit worse, since he felt like he himself was still painfully trying to figure out what being a sibling was like, and maybe failing at it.
And in all honesty, he felt a little resentful at Wei Wuxian for being picked, too – or was it a little bereft? No one ever picked him just because they wanted to; it was all because of who he was.
Who his parents were.
“I can be your friend, too, if you like,” Jiang Cheng said. He was scowling into the distance. “A better one.”
“Uh,” Jin Zixuan said, startled. “Don’t you – not like me?”
“We’re friends now,” Jiang Cheng scowled at him. “Deal with it!”
-
Jin Zixuan liked Wei Wuxian a lot, and he liked Jiang Cheng, too, and Nie Huaisang, who he’d just met, fit in with the two of them as if they were three peas in a pod, so he guessed he must like him, too – but if those three endlessly chattering idiots didn’t shut up and let him study he was going to throw himself off some cliff in Gusu and be done with it.
“You really don’t mind me sitting here?” he asked Lan Wangji, who nodded.
Nodded and did not respond verbally – blissful silence!
Still, Jin Zixuan lingered a bit by the door to the peaceful little pavilion he’d found and thought to claim for himself as a secret study place – necessary on account of the fact that Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Nie Huaisang spent all their free time together making trouble instead of studying, because Wei Wuxian just did that to people, winning them over despite themselves and then leading them into mischief – only to learn that it belonged to Lan Wangji. It was filled with gentians, which were more Jiang Cheng’s color than Jin Zixuan’s, but Jin Zixuan had seen enough peonies for a lifetime and needed the concealment besides.
It was very kind of Lan Wangji to let him stay, but he still felt he ought to apologize.
And not just for the intrusion.
Wei Wuxian’s ignominious departure from Lan Qiren’s classroom had made it much more peaceful, but that had come at a cost to Lan Wangji’s own education and opportunity to make friends with others – and while Jin Zixuan liked Wei Wuxian a great deal, he wasn’t sure how Lan Wangji felt about being stuck having to monitor him all day.
And now Lan Wangji was being nice to Jin Zixuan, letting him disturb his privacy like this without complaint, and even agreeing to let him stay so that he’d have somewhere quiet to study…he really ought to say something. Maybe apologize for Wei Wuxian, if that was appropriate. It probably was: he was responsible for him, in his own way. The only problem was that he wasn’t sure how to start the conversation –
“Do you like Wei Wuxian?” he blurted out, then felt his face go bright red. He hadn’t meant to ask it that way! After all, who didn’t know how much Lan Wangji disliked Wei Wuxian? He was always glaring at him and saying he was speaking nonsense and telling him to get lost and –
Lan Wangji nodded.
Jin Zixuan blinked. He did? But then why –
“Oh,” he said, suddenly realizing. “You’re socially awkward, too!”
Lan Wangji frowned at him, and Jin Zixuan waved his hands.
“No, no, I don’t mean that as an insult,” he said hastily, trying to cover for his blunder. “It’s like me! I always say the wrong thing, so most of the time I try not to say anything – of course people always get the wrong idea anyway, thinking I’m being quiet because I’m looking down at them…Wei Wuxian’s getting better at understanding people, but he’s still not very good at it, either. I bet he has no idea! If you like him, you should say as much.”
Lan Wangji shook his head.
“…I could say it for you, if you want?”
Even more urgent head-shaking.
Honestly, if Lan Wangji were a woman, Jin Zixuan would’ve thought that he had a crush.
As it was, he was probably just like Jin Zixuan: naturally awkward, and shy about it, too.
“It’s all right,” he said encouragingly. “Next time they throw a party, you can come and sit with me; we can have tea and pretend not to know them. It’s what I always do.”
Lan Wangji stared at him for a long moment, and then finally nodded very slowly.
“I appreciate the offer,” he said, voice neutral. “Thank you.”
-
When the time came and the Wen sect pushed things too far, naturally Jin Zixuan stood up for Mianmian.
Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Wangji all did, too.
Naturally, this made Jin Zixuan feel like complete crap on their account – Mianmian was his friend, his sect, and naturally he had a responsibility towards her; the rest of them were just helping because they were good people, and good friends. But at this point they’d done it, and Wen Chao was angry at them all over it, and there was nothing to be done about it.
And then there was the Xuanwu of Slaughter, and they were all trapped inside with it.
Sometimes, he really hated the Wen sect. Often, even.
“Jiang Cheng, you and Jin Zixuan lead the way out,” Wei Wuxian instructed. “No, don’t protest! You’re heirs of Great Sects; everyone will follow you and listen to you, and that’s critical – you’ll need to evade the Wen sect’s efforts to recapture you. That means cohesion, and cohesion means hierarchy. I’ll stay behind to distract the Xuanwu…”
“That’s a terrible idea,” Jiang Cheng exclaimed.
Jin Zixuan nudged him. “Wei Wuxian’s usually right about this sort of thing,” he reminded him. It was a good thing they’d gotten over that period in their lives when Jiang Cheng thought Wei Wuxian was an evil thief who wanted to take away his older sister and Jin Zixuan’s rightful spouse, when they’d fought all the time while Jin Zixuan desperately tried to get between them. He still had no idea what magic alchemy had happened that had suddenly made them best friends – he suspected Mianmian, or maybe Jiang Yanli – but he was deeply grateful for it. “And we can’t risk the majority. Preserve human life above all else, remember? Teacher Lan’s lessons were very clear.”
“I will remain with Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, to no one’s surprise. They’d been more or less inseparable after Jin Zixuan had recruited Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang to help them get along better after Wei Wuxian’s temporary exile to the Library Pavilion had ended. It helped that Lan Qiren had pulled Wei Wuxian aside for personal lessons to help him catch up with the rest of them, and that those had somehow metamorphosed into afternoon sessions about inventing new types of musical cultivation techniques in which Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were the most enthusiastic, and only, students.
Best of all, it had given the rest of them a chance to finally actually do their work.
Well, not Nie Huaisang, but that was only to be expected.
“But your leg –” Wei Wuxian started, and Jin Zixuan nudged him.
“He’ll only be more worried if you don’t let him stay back and join you,” he said reasonably. “Anyway, it’s good for you to have an incentive not to detour into some big flashy heroic bullshit.”
“Awww, but Jin Zixuan, I like big flashy heroic bullshit!”
Jin Zixuan was, by this point, almost entirely convinced that Wei Wuxian actually was the biological child of Wei Changze, and that his father had lied, both about the man’s supposed infertility and possibly about having slept with Cangse Sanren at all. From Jiang Cheng’s stories, inherited from his father, it seemed that Wei Changze was also the sort of person who went in for big flashy heroic bullshit and reckless humor, the sort that would win him a disciple of an immortal mountain as a bride; it certainly seemed more likely than him sharing blood with Jin Zixuan or his father or even Jin Zixun, all of whom tended towards arrogance, but whose flash was all in their clothing.
Not that it mattered at this late date, of course. They were brothers now – as Nie Huaisang would put it, there were no takebacks allowed.
“No bullshit, you hear me?” Jin Zixuan repeated, looking pointedly at Wei Wuxian. “Not allowed. Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t make me have to tell Mistress Jiang that I lost her favorite idiot friend.”
“You tell her?” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “I’ll have to tell her. All right, let’s go.”
-
Jiang Yanli was not impressed with the fact that they’d left Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji alone in a cave with a giant murderous turtle.
She still made them soup and gave them bandages to wrap up their bloody feet, though.
(Jin Zixuan was never going to make a good impression on her, no matter what Jiang Cheng said.)
-
“Wen Chao has demanded recompense for the mess at the Nightless City,” Jin Zixuan’s mother said, reading a letter. Her lips curled up in a strange little smile. “He said Wei Wuxian’s right hand would do.”
“Mother,” Jin Zixuan exclaimed, leaping to his feet with his eyes wide. He’d only been home a week from the indoctrination camp, and Wei Wuxian was still lying in bed most of the time, pretending he wasn’t exhausted; Wen Chao must have sent the letter almost immediately after he’d realized they’d escaped. “You can’t be serious!”
“Why not?” she asked. “It’s just what the little bastard deserves, always trying to outshine you.”
Jin Zixuan shook his head, frantically trying to think of a way out of this, because he knew his mother wouldn’t so much as hesitate to order such an atrocity. She’d never forgiven Wei Wuxian for the possibility of being a threat to Jin Zixuan’s position, however remote the chance, and she’d tried very hard to convince Jin Zixuan of it, too – it was the only thing they didn’t agree on, the only thing Jin Zixuan didn’t yield to her on, and he hated every moment of it.
But not as much as his mother hated it.
It was the only thing she couldn’t control in his life, and she hatedit, and hated Wei Wuxian for it, too.
(She couldn’t hate Jin Zixuan. She couldn’t, because he had the right blood, because he was her son, because he was the heir of Lanling Jin and the source of all her power. But sometimes, when the light was dim and she glanced over too quickly and thought she saw his father when she looked at him, he thought that she wanted to.)
“You can’t be serious,” Jin Zixuan said a second time, keeping calm by sheer willpower. No one but him would dare to object if his mother made a move, especially in his father’s absence…and even if his father was there, Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure his father cared enough about Wei Wuxian to endure another fight with his fearsome wife. “Mother, he’s my servant – my responsibility. Whatever he does is my responsibility, whether to my credit or to my deficit. That’s how that works. They may be asking for Wei Wuxian’s hand, but who’s to say, when they come to claim it, that they won’t seek mine instead?”
“They wouldn’t dare.”
“It’s the Wen sect,” Jin Zixuan reminded her. “What don’t they dare?”
She pursed her lips, thinking it over, and for a moment he thought he’d won. “Perhaps,” she allowed, and before he could even breath a sight of relief continued, “But no matter. They’ve set the price, and we can pay it, so why not? We can cut off his hand and send it to them as a peace offering in advance. After all, they’re important allies of ours, and he’s just a bastard.”
“But –”
“No, A-Xuan. No more arguing; I’ve decided.” Her smile broadened. “We’ll do it now.”
Jin Zixuan couldn’t fight with his mother. He’d never had the courage – he was as spineless as his father.
Almost as spineless.
“Yes, Mother,” he said, and drew his sword.
“A-Xuan..?”
“My servant, my responsibility,” he reminded her, and he knew that she’d misunderstood, that she thought that he was going to go take care of the grim task himself. He knew, because for a brief moment in time she looked happy – not true joy, but the only way she ever looked happy for as long as he could remember, like she’d won one over on someone and gotten her way despite everyone’s efforts. He hated to disappoint her. “I have my honor to think of, too.”
-
Jin Zixuan sent Wei Wuxian to the Lotus Pier, bearing words of warning. His father’s spies had reported that the Wen sect would probably target them first, using Jiang Cheng’s interference in the Xuanwu cave as an excuse – there wasn’t any point going after the Lan sect a second time, and the Jin sect were longstanding allies of Wen Ruohan, with Jin Guangshan being a coward at heart; if Wen Ruohan could keep him out of the inevitable war for a little longer by playing nice, he would.
Word came back not long after that they’d been right: the Lotus Pier had been destroyed.
It also said that Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli were missing – missing, but not dead. It didn’t say anything about their parents, and that was suspicious, too.
Maybe sending Wei Wuxian had helped after all.
“We should reach out to the Nie sect,” Jin Zixuan told his father. “With our money and their strength, we can resist the Wen sect long enough for the smaller sects to catch up.”
“The Wen sect is all-powerful,” his father objected. “What’s even the point of resisting? We’d be better off reaching out to them to see if we can reach a peaceful agreement.”
“We’ve already seen what agreement they want to reach,” Jin Zixuan said, and his father’s gaze dropped guiltily to his waist. Jin Zixuan didn’t bother looking down himself. He didn’t do that much, these days. “Am I your heir or am I not? You promised me that I’d inherit a sect, not slavery. Reach out to the Nie sect.”
Jin Zixuan should not talk that way to his father. He had always been a filial son, and a spineless one; his father’s son, and nothing else. The only thing he had going for him was the right blood – and even that wasn't that sure a bet, these days. He knew his father was already thinking about Jin Zixun in a way that suggested that all those rumors about his ‘cousin’ having a different father than the one everyone said he had might have some merit.
It seemed, though, that when pushed to it, he was also his mother’s son.
He hoped she choked on the knowledge.
“Reach out to the Nie sect,” he said again. “With all the cultivation world uniting, the Wen sect’s fall is inevitable. If we don’t act now, we’ll be seen as cowards, hanging back and waiting to see how things fall out to eke out the best advantage – if we act, we’ll be seen as heroes.”
“But what if you’re wrong, and the Wen sect does win?”
“Then we’ll tell Sect Leader Wen that we’re perfectly positioned to negotiate the other sects’ terms of surrender, and use that to win anyway,” Jin Zixuan said, less because he thought that was an acceptable course of action and more because he knew it would be what his father would do anyway. “Call the Nie sect.”
-
“I’m going to kill you,” Jiang Cheng hissed, wild-eyed, and Jin Zixuan blinked at him, taken aback.
“Is it because I wasn’t able to do more to help with the Lotus Pier?” he asked, feeling helpless. “I really did try to convince my father to send more people, but I barely even got him not to block my sending Wei Wuxian –”
“Not because of that!”
Jin Zixuan took a step back. “Uh, then –”
“You cut off your own hand you maniac!”
“The situation –” Jin Zixuan started backing up. “It was necessary – Wei Wuxian, help!”
“No, he’s right,” Wei Wuxian said, arms crossed. His eyes were teary, but they’d been that way since he’d left Jinlin Tower – ever since the Wen sect’s letter. “You’re a maniac, and Jiang Cheng’s going to kill you, and you’re going to deserve it.”
Lan Wangji, standing beside him, nodded.
“It’s not that bad, really.” Jin Zixuan tried to explain. “My mother and father would never have accepted anything else – threats to me are the only thing that work on them, and even that’s stopped working after all these years. Only a real injury would have an impact. If they hadn’t been so shocked, they would’ve just continued to ignore what the Wen sect was doing, or offered them an olive branch, and then then the Wen sect would’ve used that as an opportunity to come and divide up everyone else. We’d lose precious time to regroup, and the Wen sect would only get stronger and stronger –”
“You. Cut. Off. Your. Hand!”
“The Wen sect demanded the hand of the person who started the rebellion in the Xuanwu cave,” Jin Zixuan said quietly. “That was me, not Wei Wuxian. Why should he pay my debts?”
Everyone still seemed very upset, but maybe a little less murderous. Definitely a lot more teary-eyed.
“Couldn’t you have at least picked your other hand?” Wei Wuxian mumbled. “Your right hand – that’s your sword arm.”
Jin Zixuan shrugged. “They demanded the right hand,” he said. “Anyway, it’s fine, I’ve been using my left, and it’s been going smoothly enough…you know, I think I might actually be left-handed? I never knew; everyone always made me use my right.”
“Does it hurt?” Lan Wangji asked suddenly, and Jin Zixuan hesitated, not sure how to respond to that.
Unfortunately, everyone else took that in the worst way possible, and insisted on taking care of him, no matter how much he tried to explain that it didn’t hurt, not really, not anymore; it was just the strangest feeling of absence. Like something that had always been there wasn’t there anymore.
A bit like his mother. She wasn’t talking to him anymore.
He was a terrible son, and would probably end up spending eternity in some afterlife hell being tortured for failing to properly honor his parents.
He’d already resigned himself.
“How are your parts of the war going?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “Chifeng-zun says it’s going well, but you know how he is; it’s all business with him, you never hear any stories. Did Wei Wuxian really knock out old Sect Leader Jiang when he refused to leave the Lotus Pier? Tell me he didn’t.”
“He did,” Jiang Cheng said, and he looked amused about it – maybe he’d be in the next boiling pot over in the afterlife of unfilial descendants. “He was a little frantic, you see, on account of not wanting to fail you by letting them die. After all, you had just cut off your own hand for him…”
“Are you ever going to let that drop?”
“Sure. As soon as you have two hands again.”
“…so, never.”
“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said patiently. “Never. Never ever, if that makes it clearer for you.”
-
Jin Zixuan’s new hand was made of steel and wire, under the gilding, and functioned using some of the innovative new talismans that Wei Wuxian had invented. He couldn’t help but hope that they weren’t part of the subset that constituted demonic cultivation because people were being really weird about that.
“It’s like people wanted for me to just die in the Burial Mounds,” Wei Wuxian complained. He was dressed in black and grey and red, which he’d apparently adopted as his new sect colors – Jin Zixuan had only managed to send him out of Lanling the first time by officially ejecting him from the Jin sect, a decision his father had initially endorsed but now, he suspected, was regretting.
It was a lot easier to throw out a servant than it was to invite back the founder of demonic cultivation, especially now that he was a war hero and a sect leader.
“You didn’t have to be in the Burial Mounds to begin with,” Jin Zixuan reminded him, to no avail. “I know I said I needed an army because my father wasn’t supplying us properly, but I didn’t mean ‘invent an entirely new cultivation technique and raise an army of the dead’. You know that, right?”
Wei Wuxian shrugged it off, because of course he did.
“You know, they’re calling me the Yiling Patriarch?” he said, and grinned. “It’s because the Burial Mounds are in Yiling, and because I’m founding my own sect. Or whatever. Like I wouldn’t be supporting you, anyway.”
“It has to be your own sect because otherwise you might be forced to share your secret techniques,” Jin Zixuan explained, not for the first time. “Rogue cultivators don’t have the same protections that sects do, even small sects. It doesn’t matter if you’re the only person in it. Or, well, you and Lan Wangji, I guess.”
“I still can’t believe he’s willing to leave the Lan sect to join me,” Wei Wuxian sighed happily. “He’s such a good friend.”
Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure about the strength of his new hand, which was the only reason he didn’t try to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You’re a bad influence, you know,” he said instead of trying to explain to Wei Wuxian that people didn’t generally leave their natal sects for the sake of a ‘good friend’. “I nearly hit a girl the other day.”
“You did? You? What’d she do?”
“She gave me soup and implied that she’d made it,” Jin Zixuan said. “Except it tasted exactly the same as the soup Mistress Jiang is always making for you – I’ve had it recently enough to know. Sure enough, I push the issue a bit and it turns out it was Mistress Jiang’s. The girl was just trying to claim credit as an excuse to get close to me.”
He sighed. He’d been so angry about it. They were at war! People were dying, losing their homes, losing everything, and this stupid girl could only think about how to plot and scheme to try to get to a prized position as the future Madame Jin. Had his mother done the same, when it’d been his father…?
“You’ve had shijie’s soup recently?” Wei Wuxian asked. His expression looked slightly odd. “Shijie made you soup?”
“Yeah, I think she’s been dropping off whatever’s left over at my tent when she’s done,” Jin Zixuan said, shaking his head. Jiang Yanli was so nice, really truly genuinely nice. He’d never met anyone like her. “Could you thank her for me? I appreciate the thoughtfulness – it’s filling enough that I don’t need to go to the mess, which means there’s more left over for everyone else.”
“…sure,” Wei Wuxian said. “I’ll tell her. Or, and here’s a thought – why don’t you tell her yourself?”
“Why would I? You’re the one she likes,” Jin Zixuan said, puzzled. “I mean, you’re her adopted little brother, aren’t you? She’s practically your second soulmate, after Lan Wangji.”
“I’m really busy,” Wei Wuxian announced, despite having been lazing around complaining that they didn’t have any encounters with the Wen sect lined up for a whole week only a few moments before. “I couldn’t possibly take the time out of my schedule to go talk to her – you see, I’ve had an idea, which is going to keep me very busy…in fact, I’m not even going to be here at all! I need to go to the Lan sect encampment to consult with Teacher Lan.”
Discovering that Lan Qiren had a mad scientist streak when it came to musical cultivation had been extremely disquieting, Jin Zixuan reflected. The world might’ve been better off if Lan Qiren had never had a chance to actually get friendly with Wei Wuxian – Wei Wuxian provided the terrible ideas, Lan Qiren scolded him about them and then helped him smooth the kinks out of them anyway.
Teacher for a day, father for a lifetime…
“All right,” Jin Zixuan said, though he still didn’t exactly understand what had just happened. “I’ll go talk to her, I guess.”
-
“I just wanted to make sure you know you’re not obligated to make me soup or anything,” Jin Zixuan said, not sure where this conversation had gone off the rails.
Probably around the time that Jiang Yanli had started smiling at him, because he always turned into an idiot whenever that happened. She was so very nice, not just average at all no matter what anyone said, and blissfully down-to-earth – she wouldn’t be wasting her time and everyone else’s thinking about how to politically advance herself despite there being a war on. She spent all her time learning field medicine and helping cook meals for the mess and –
And he’d better stop thinking because he was turning red again.
“I enjoy making soup for you,” Jiang Yanli said peaceably. “Especially since I know you enjoy it, too.”
“I do! It’s just, I don’t know, you already do so much, with the medics and organizing and everything…It’s – uh – I – listen, I know our parents – you don’t have to pay attention to that. I only have one hand, I’m not – don’t feel obligated, not because of that. And don’t let Wei Wuxian make you think making soup is the only thing you’re good for, no matter how much he likes it, okay? You do so much more than just that!”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, covering her smile with her hand. “You’re very sweet, you know.”
Jin Zixuan made an incoherent sound.
He would need to do something in return, he thought, a little frantic; he really didn’t know how to deal with a sincere compliment from someone he actually liked. Maybe poetry? Girls were said to like poetry. He couldn’t write poetry worth a damn, but he could pay someone –
She kissed him on the cheek.
All thought abruptly departed.
“Don’t worry, it’s not inappropriate – after all, we’re already engaged,” Jiang Yanli said cheerfully. “Which I’m very good with, so don’t worry about that. Good luck in your next battle, Jin-gongzi.”
At some point she must have left, because she wasn’t there anymore, and Jin Zixuan was still opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.
Mianmian peeked in, then snickered. “Oh no,” she said. “She broke him. Everyone! Come look! She totally broke him!”
-
“Did you actually cut off your hand to save a servant?” Jin Guangyao asked.
“It was a bit more complicated than that,” Jin Zixuan said, uncomfortable, then added, “Welcome to the family.”
Jin Guangyao smiled.
For some reason, Jin Zixuan felt a shiver run up his spine. He didn’t think he liked this new brother of his, and he felt bad about it – he’d welcomed Wei Wuxian whole-heartedly, hadn’t he? Was it really that different when it actually was someone of his own blood?
He didn’t like that thought.
“I hope we can be friends,” he said, willing it to be true, and Jin Guangyao murmured something agreeable in return.
Jin Zixuan wished he liked him.
“My mother is going to hate you,” he said, because he knew that she would. “If she does, let me know, and I’ll try to stop her…not just her. If anyone treats you wrong, just tell me. I’ll stand up for you.”
Jin Guangyao smiled again.
“You’re so kind,” he said, and for some reason Jin Zixuan had the feeling that he didn’t mean it at all.
-
Jin Zixuan had been engaged since before he was born, and it still somehow came as a surprise to find himself married. Not just the event, either – these days he woke up with his wife in his arms and was forced to just stare at her lying there in the soft morning light and wonder how he got so lucky.
He was married.
To a very nice girl, who actually seemed to like him a great deal – she’d made that clear enough when she’d had a chance. Very clear, in fact, which was why there was also a very slight curve in her belly that meant that soon enough he wouldn’t just be married, but a father.
“You’d tell me if I was dreaming, right?” he asked Wei Wuxian, who was visiting again. He did that a lot, but in fairness he didn’t really have a settled place to live – everyone knew the supposed ‘sect’ he’d founded was little more than a sham. He’d been technically kicked out of the Jin sect and refused all offers to rejoin, and it seemed he wasn’t quite ready to scandalize the entire cultivation world by marrying into the Lan sect no matter what Lan Xichen had been hinting. Sometimes he and Lan Wangji spent time at the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, or the Unclean Realm with Nie Huaisang under Nie Mingjue’s long-suffering gaze…everyone called Wei Wuxian the Yiling Patriarch, on account of him ‘founding’ his sect there – or rather, summoning up extra resentful energy from the Burial Mounds for the purposes of obtaining an army while minimizing the number of disturbed graves – but he wasn’t, not really. He didn’t live there or anything.
Who would want to live there?
“I would,” Wei Wuxian agreed, but he didn’t follow it up with teasing or anything the way he usually did.
He just looked very uncharacteristically perturbed.
“What is it?” Jin Zixuan asked. “Can I help?”
“No heroic bullshit,” Wei Wuxian said at once, which meant that there was a possibility of heroic bullshit. Given Wei Wuxian’s personality, that also meant that it was heroic bullshit that would be bad for the Jin sect, which he still felt bad about on account of them raising him and all…in all honesty, it might be a good thing in the long run that Jin Zixuan’s father and mother had been so awful to Wei Wuxian as a kid, and that he’d known it. If they’d been good to him, he never would have been willing to leave. “But, uh, remember Wen Ning?”
Jin Zixuan blinked. Wei Wuxian had told him some stories: a junior disciple of the Wen sect, from a branch family – Dafan Wen – who’d helped Wei Wuxian out a few times when he’d been smuggling the Jiang clan to freedom.
More than a few times: he’d been Wei Wuxian’s first disciple in matters of resentful energy, which Wei Wuxian had apparently been thinking of since forever and started playing around with more or less the moment he was no longer officially tied to a sect, and had been a valuable contact during the early period of the war before events had changed and he’d been lost.
“Yes,�� he said. “What about him?”
He hadn’t thought of Wen Ning in ages, beyond abstractly hoping he was doing well. It might be hard, with a surname as he had, but surely there was somewhere in the cultivation world for those surnamed Wen – Wei Wuxian had argued fiercely in favor of leniency for the remaining Wen cultivators, and the Lan sect had backed him, thanks to Lan Wangji. The rest of them had been exhausted, Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng and his parents, even Jin Zixuan…his father had ended up volunteering their sect to help with resettlement of the refugees, which had been a pleasant surprise.
Sure, Jin Zixuan knew his father well enough to know that he was only doing it for the clout and possible advantage it would give him, but he was pretty sure the Wen civilians didn’t especially care why they were going to get a reprieve from death and a new place to live, only that they did.
“I’ll get there,” Wei Wuxian said. “It’s a bit complicated…you know how Jin Zixun’s in charge of resettlement?”
Jin Zixuan nodded, puzzled. “What about it?”
-
“You can’t do that!” one of the guards shouted at Wei Wuxian. “We’re disciples of the Jin sect –”
“Is that so,” Jin Zixuan said, and they all turned to look at him, each one of them blanching in utter horror. “And why didn’t I know that my Jin sect had such people as you?”
“Where’s Wen Ning?” Wen Qing asked Wei Wuxian, looking desperate. “I don’t see him…Where is he?!”
“That monster?” one of the guards blurted out.
“My brother is not a monster!”
“He’s been hiding in the woods,” one of the Wen civilians volunteered. “He’s been raiding the camp, rescuing people who are being abused –”
“Our response was reasonable in light of his aggression,” the guard argued. “He used demonic cultivation – he’s a monster! We had no choice –”
“We’re going to need to question them,” Jin Zixuan said to Lan Wangji, who was looking faintly murderous in his usual righteous sort of way. “To find out who’s their backing – Jin Zixun wouldn’t have dared something like this, not on his own. Can you bind them for me?”
-
It was his father.
Of course.
-
“A-Yao, what do you want?” Jin Zixuan asked, and Jin Guangyao stopped in his tracks, staring at him in confusion – as well he should, since he’d only come into Jin Zixuan’s study in order to say good morning on his way to breakfast. “No, sorry, that’s not what I meant. I meant, you know, in life.”
Jin Guangayo blinked at him.
Probably not the best question to spring on someone before breakfast, Jin Zixuan reflected.
“It’s about the trouble that my – that our father got into,” Jin Zixuan explained. “The other cultivation sects are furious to no end that he took advantage of their trust in order to do such a disgraceful thing…I’ve ordered Zixun to be confined for now, and I suspect he’ll have to be banished to some country house for a few years. And as you know, my father will be retiring soon and handing over the position of sect leader to me…”
Neither of them especially wanted that to happen, his father as loathe to give up power as Jin Zixuan was to take it. But what other solution was there after such a scandal?
The Lan sect, ever concerned with morality, had been horrified when they’d found out what had happened; the Jiang sect, despite their close relationship to the Jin sect, had immediately denounced it, and Jiang Yanli, who was Wei Wuxian’s friend, was the very first to speak. The Nie sect, never a firm ally for the Jin sect, was growling about righteousness, and if Nie Mingjue was sincere about that being his only concern – and having worked with the man, Jin Zixuan believed he was – then there were plenty of others in the Nie sect that had their eyes on the greater influence and power that would accrue to their sect if Jin Zixuan’s father were allowed to bring his sect down with him.
Handing over power was the only way to make sure their Jin sect remained strong.
“He won’t be alone, at least,” Jin Zixuan sighed. “I won him that much.”
Jiang Fengmian had agreed to step down from his position as sect leader as well, making it seem as though Jin Guangshan’s retirement were voluntary, part of a joint agreement of the older generation handing over power to the newer. Everyone would know in their hearts that that wasn’t the case, but it would be far less shameful than the alternative – saving a little bit of his father’s face.
“You did well,” Jin Guangyao said, listening with a neutral expression. “In uncovering everything, and revealing it.”
“I would’ve brought you in to help, but I couldn’t,” Jin Zixuan explained. “I know he asked you to help in finding demonic cultivators to join the Jin sect, and…”
He hesitated.
“He implicated me?” Jin Guangyao asked.
He had. Their father was shameless: he’d even sought to move all blame to Jin Guangyao’s back, whether as the actual mastermind or, when that was rejected, as the inciter of the scheme. Nonsense, of course.
Anyway, it didn’t matter. Even if Jin Guangyao had suggested it, it would have been his father’s responsibility to refuse.
“No one believes it,” Jin Zixuan said, which was only partially a lie. “Even Chifeng-zun laughed in his face and said you wouldn’t be nearly that stupid.”
Jin Guangyao looked – oddly pleased by that, if Jin Zixuan had to guess.
“Still, it’s awkward,” he said, rubbing his head. “People talk, and our subsidiary sects have never been as quiet as some others…you don’t have to tell me right now what you’re planning, or what you want in the long term. But maybe – uh – you have two sworn brothers. Is there any chance…”
“I could go visit them for a while?”
Jin Zixuan smiled helplessly. “I wish it weren’t necessary. And if you did know what you wanted, I could take it into account when planning the future…”
“No, no,” Jin Guangyao said. “Visiting my sworn brothers will be – fine.” He looked thoughtful. “You said Chifeng-zun didn’t think I was involved?”
“Zewu-jun was also vociferous in your defense,” Jin Zixuan said, trying to elide the fact that it wasn’t so much that Nie Mingjue didn’t think Jin Guangyao was capable of such atrocities, but rather that he declared, and loudly, that if Jin Guangyao had intended to do something horrific like that, he’d have handled it better. Judging by Jin Guangyao’s amused expression, he might have guessed anyway. “I appreciate your understanding.”
Jin Guangyao smiled.
Jin Zixuan thought he might even mean it, this time.
-
“I’m an uncle!” Wei Wuxian crowed, holding Jin Ling in his arms. “I’m an uncle, I’m an uncle!”
“Big deal,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, which would be more convincing if he wasn’t beaming foolishly. “So am I. Hand him over...hey, A-Ling! It's me, your jiujiu!”
“Can I be an honorary uncle?” Nie Huaisang asked – Jin Zixuan had no idea when he’d even arrived, or why he was here, or anything, really, but that was probably because he hadn’t really slept on account of over-excitement. “I mean, my brother’s sworn brothers with Jin-xiong’s brother, so it works, right?”
“That’s ridiculous –” Jiang Cheng started.
“No, I love it!” Wei Wuxian immediately declared. “That means Lan Zhan’s his uncle, too!”
“Wei Wuxian…!”
“Don’t worry,” Jin Zixuan said, hugging Jiang Cheng out of sheer excitement. “You’re his only jiujiu, right? Everyone else is related through me, so they have to share.”
Jiang Cheng seemed pleased by that, and Wei Wuxian laughed.
Nie Huaisang was calculating on his fingers. “You know,” he said thoughtfully. “This might be the most well-connected baby in the entire cultivation world? The only thing we’re missing is the Wen sect…Jiang-xiong, how about you marry Wen Qing? Then we’d have them all!”
“That is not how I’m determining my marriage!” Jiang Cheng yelped, but notably didn’t reject the idea.
Jin Zixuan looked at Jiang Yanli, who looked back at him, and they both started laughing.
There was more noise after that, and eventually Jin Ling woke up and started crying, making everyone start fussing like a bunch of old hens surrounding a long-suffering Jiang Yanli who’d already grown accustomed to it in a way the rest of them hadn’t.
It suddenly occurred to Jin Zixuan that everyone who was here was here because they wanted to be. Not because of his name or his wealth, not because he was Sect Leader Jin, not because of the circumstances of his birth, but just because they liked him – because they wanted to celebrate with him, and to cherish his child, to share his joy.
It was a good day.
All the days were a little good, but this one was especially good.
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mercy-burning · 3 years
Text
Your Favorite — Part 1
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST
DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.
NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.
———
JUNE 5th
I hate my mom's new boyfriend.
For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.
And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.
It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.
I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.
But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.
And I hate him.
His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.
He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.
I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.
Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.
And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"
She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.
But I can't tell her that, obviously.
And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.
"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."
JUNE 19th
It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.
I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...
I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.
We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.
It's Spencer.
I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.
Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.
But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.
Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.
It's truly pathetic.
So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.
And I most definitely do not want that.
In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.
So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.
When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.
It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.
Fuck!
I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.
This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.
And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.
But it's only been two weeks.
And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...
I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.
———
I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.
Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.
Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.
The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.
"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.
And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"
Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.
"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.
He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.
"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."
I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"
The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.
"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."
Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...
That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...
He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."
I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."
Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.
Big mistake.
His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.
"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.
It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.
It also makes me incredibly stupid.
An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.
"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.
I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.
"Is it working?"
This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.
That has to be it.
So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.
And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.
Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...
Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.
But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.
I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.
Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.
———
When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.
Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?
Wrong.
It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.
But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.
Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.
It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.
That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.
It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.
———
There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.
"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.
"Can I come in?"
"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.
He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.
"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.
And that's when it starts to click into place.
There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.
He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...
But fuck, it excites me.
I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.
"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.
I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.
He must have heard me in the shower.
Right?
I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.
"So you heard me, huh?"
I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.
I've caught him. And he knows it.
"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.
Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.
It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."
The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.
Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.
Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.
But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.
They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.
He's nervous.
To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.
"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"
His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."
He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.
"Spencer?" I call out.
He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.
"I'm sorry, too..."
No the fuck I'm not.
Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.
Still, he only nods and retreats.
All there's left to do is see what happens.
JUNE 25th
For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.
To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.
My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.
But I still can't shake him entirely.
Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.
I wish I could say that I hate it.
But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.
Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.
I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.
I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.
"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.
Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.
And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.
Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.
I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.
"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.
"You're acting this way on purpose."
Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.
"What do you mean?"
"Y/N..."
My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"
Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.
But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.
I have to know for sure.
So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."
Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.
When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.
Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.
Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.
But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.
"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.
I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."
He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."
I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.
Besides... If my theory is right...
"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"
"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."
"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"
This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."
I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.
He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.
I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.
Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.
I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.
Now there's just one more bill to take care of.
I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.
I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.
Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.
I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)
But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.
My Sweethearts,
I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!
XOXO,
Eve/Mom
I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.
Perfect.
But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.
The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.
The lavender panties.
As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.
That's right. When.
I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.
"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."
It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.
"Sure."
He disappears and then I wait.
One...
Two...
Three.
I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.
My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.
My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.
Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.
He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.
I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.
And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.
And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.
"You come fast."
Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.
"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."
"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."
He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.
"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."
This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."
"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."
He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.
"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."
"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."
My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."
"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.
When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."
Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.
"It's too late for that..."
My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.
"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."
A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."
He swallows. "Don't what?"
"Don't stop yourself."
I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.
His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.
And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.
That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.
The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.
And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.
"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."
I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.
"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"
He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.
He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"
The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.
I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.
"Do your worst..."
———
Turns out he was very true to his word.
Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.
She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.
Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.
"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"
His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.
"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"
He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.
"I wished it was yours..."
My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.
I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.
"Here's what's going to happen..."
He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.
"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."
Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.
I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.
"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"
Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.
"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."
He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."
His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.
I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.
———
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