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I stared down the barrel of the lesser of two evils: the flesh-and-blood disappointment of a human man, or a life trapped in my imagination with a fictional lover.
I’ll take option #2 everytime.
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I’d gotten so good at getting others to talk about themselves that I’d become excellent at living in the shadows. I wonder how many of my dates knew more about me than my name and how spectacular I was in bed.
😳
knew everyone. Some I knew through social media, others through dates, and many from my previous life as a lady of the evening. I just didn’t like, speak with, or care about many. People were tiresome and rarely seemed solution-oriented.
Kind of true 🤷🏻♂️
It would be nice to love and be loved. It would be really goddamn pleasant to have someone else make the coffee while I slept in. I wanted to wake up with someone beside me, to watch Fire and Swords while cuddled on the couch and to have a built-in guardian to babysit a chinchilla if I needed to be away for a few days. But though I continued to put myself out there, my heart wasn’t open to falling in love.
Spoken like someone with a window into my thoughts.
As long as I could stay disconnected from the dullness around me, I’d be satisfied. At least as satisfied as one could be while forced to live in reality.
God damn right.
I sent her an emoji with a wink and a kiss. EG responded with a middle finger, an eggplant, a fist, and three droplets of water.
“I drink to forget the fucked-up shit I imagine at home. I don’t have friends because I just want to be here. I cancel on plans, bail on dates, rush out because there’s something better for me in the dark. I refuse to live with anyone in case you visit. I hook up with strangers to try to pound out the memory of how it feels when you…” My voice had broken. “You’re not real. I can’t keep playing this game. I need to get help. I can’t be like my mom…like my grandma… I can’t do this. I’m never going to be able to move forward with my life if I keep living in this fantasy.”
It was the fantasy novels and the impossible standards they set for love. It was my newfound passion for writing that made the very thought of leaving the house lose its sparkle. Those were the reasons my heart was unavailable.
Basically.
“Group sex is not freaky. You’re just boring.”
“You’ve told me before, and I know I need to listen, even if you’re one hell of a habit to break. A life with me isn’t what you want. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you in the way that you needed me.”
The sex work? We know about that, peanut. Congratulations, by the way. There isn’t a deity alive who doesn’t use sex as a form of worship—oh, no, I’m wrong. Silas’s owner has very particular ideas about sex. I wonder if that’s why all of his angels have sticks up their asses. They need to get laid.”
“Have you ever woken up from a dream and struggled to remember what was real? Sometimes it takes you a few moments to gather your bearings, to collect yourself, to come back into the present?”
Sounds like the beginning of inception.
“You write fantasy and have spent years fucking a demon, right? Shouldn’t this be an easy pill for you to swallow?”
To put it bluntly…
“Of course, your best friend is an ex. I love queer culture.”
Names, commands, promises…they have power that those of us having a mortal experience don’t understand. Humans aren’t like fae, sweet one. We can lie. We can break our word. We don’t need consent. Some suggest that the human kingdom is the true hell, and I often wonder if they’re right.”
They are right!
Waking up next to someone you loved, making them coffee, watching the sleepiness tumble from their eyes as they rubbed away their dreams with loose fists, it was an intimacy I didn’t even realize I was lacking.
“It’s offensive for anyone to look that good when they wake up. Fuck you.” “You should!” she said, merry despite her grogginess. “I’m fantastic in bed.”
I stripped free of my things and allowed the auditory erotica to wash over me with drenching intensity. Az would have soaked anyone’s panties, but hearing him unleash himself was a memory I’d have to tuck into the back of my memory for lonely nights. The hedonistic music of their ravishing carried from their room into mine. The banging headboard created an excellent bass for the high, rhythmic sound of slapping flesh against flesh. It set the perfect tempo for the circular stroke of fingers after my hand wandered south. My right hand moved in company with their sounds, my left working my
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“If someone adores you for your chaos, what’s the best way to honor that love? If they treasure your rootlessness, if they celebrate your anarchy, if they love you as you are, do you think they’d be dancing in the streets if you gave up the very essence at the core of your being that made them fall for you?”
Reminds me of Pirates of the Caribbean…Davy Jones and Calypso.
“But sometimes I just do things for the plot. So, you know, you gotta fuck a centaur for the party anecdote.”
Really? More references?!?!
“That’s the blessing and curse of mortality, isn’t it. Your life is short, so you’re allowed to live it with little rhyme or reason. You can pay penance in your next life, or the one after that. When you live forever…” He looked out the window, gaze unfocusing as he regarded the blacks and grays, stone and steel, glass and iron of his city. Clouds continued to roll until they’d become bottom-heavy thunderheads. “You can’t say things you don’t mean. Words have consequences.”
I’ve always said as much, despite being mortal.
understood a nymph’s incentive to champion the free the titties movement, but I wasn’t sure unbound D cups were the most suitable attire for seeking an audience with an angel.
She pouted, looking over her shoulder at the ultimate loss in the battle between Heaven and Hell: her sex life.
“If you wouldn’t burn the world to the ground for the one you love, are you even in love?”
That’s a good question.
Besides, I never wanted to bring a life into the world who would have to go through the rejection, the cold nights, the spankings, the torn clothes, the jeers, the punishments, the pain I’d gone through. Society didn’t need someone new to kick.
“I don’t know the extent of her involvement,” Azrames said as he shrugged. “I’m not saying she’s going to strip down and ride your face while you’re getting railed—”
