#it's also like... much longer than i intended 😭

[lucid-heart]

Hi!

I read your Violet Bridgerton fic and I was just absolutely moved by your writing so I was shooting I could request a Violet x fem reader?

Absolutely no rush whatsoever that is if you do choose to accept this request ☺️

Premise:

Reader was daphne's best friend as a small child always running around the house causing mayhem in the Bridgerton household, everyone in the family absolutely adored reader . She was like sunshine in human form. Due to family circumstances she had to move away and lost contact much to the devastation of the family .

Years later she's moved back and is in search for a husband shocking all members of the Bridgerton household for she's bloomed into a beautiful young woman and yet the most shocked of all is Violet the matriarch of the family by the electricity she feels when they first meet again. It feels wrong to harbour such feelings and avoids her at every turn .

Reader thinking that Violet now detests her existence accepts a proposal and as soon as word spreads of the marriage Violet confronts reader and angst and smut ensues .

I hope that was descriptive enough , I didn't want to be too vague ☺️❤️

hello gentle reader, thank you so much for your request 🙏 it's certainly took me a LONG time to finish but here we are 👀 it's a little too long to post on Tumblr imo so here's the link, I hope you enjoy!!!

[beloveds-embrace]

Sooo much angstttttttttttt 😭

I need the boys to wake up and do whatever it takes to fix it, please, I can't take the angst 😭😭😭

Does this count as fix-it? 🤔 hope you enjoy, anon! Also this turned out far longer than i thought it would lol

First Part

Another shift slowly happens within the duchy, palpable. The whispers of servants echo louder than ever, growing sharp and cutting in the empty halls you once used to frequent. They still avoid you, but now they wonder and whisper of your health. It’s not just them; the men you’d once hoped you’d at least be on an amicable basis with slowly change as well, the longer your absence haunts the halls and galas.

John is the first to act. It’s hesitant at first, awkward even, as though he can’t figure out how to approach the shattered remains of what he’s ignored for so long. He stands outside your door one evening, his shadow stretching under the flickering candlelight, fist raised to knock. But he doesn’t. Not at first. He falters, as if the weight of his guilt roots him to the spot.

When he finally does knock, it’s tentative, barely audible.

“…Are you awake?” His voice carries a softness you’ve never heard before, but it grates against your numbness.

You don’t answer. Your eyes barely flick towards the door, not moving from where you are curled on your side.

He lingers, sighs, and leaves.

You had intended to let yourself waste away, in all honesty. Only your mother doesn’t let you; she bursts into your room one day, sneers at the miserable sight you make, and insults you to the high heavens. Nothing new, even if her digs hurt, even if she says she isn’t surprised by no one loving you when you are like this, but she forces you to eat some nibbles and then into a shower; she doesn’t care. She is simply tired of having you be an embarrassment and hiding away from the public eye.

Thus, you no longer stay in your room. You don’t bother with jewelry, with heavy gowns or complicated hair styles or even clearing the layer of dust off your furniture, you just leave your room. Thankfully,

Unfortunately, that means passing by the maids and servants. It means passing by them. It means interacting with them again, though no longer initiated by you.

Simon is the second, and less direct. He lingers in places you begin to re-frequent; the library, the gardens, the corridors near your room. He doesn’t speak, just watches from the periphery, eyes heavy and intense. Once, when you brush past him without acknowledging his presence, he mutters something under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. But he doesn’t try to stop you and you don ask what he said.

He probably didn’t mean you, anyways. You doubt he wants to speak to you, the obstacle.

Johnny falters the most. Though your interactions with him were few, you’d occasionally hear from the servants about how fun he is in general. His smiles, though they’ve never been aimed at you, look quite fake to you, jokes half-hearted and dying on his lips whenever you pass on rare occasions.

One day, he brings a tray of food to your room himself, hoping to coax you into eating with something he’s cooked just for you. You answer the door, see him holding it, and shake your head without a word. Even if it looks delectable, like the dishes John would get.

“Please,” he says, his voice cracking. “I- just try a bit, hen.”

But you close the door before he can say more. He will try again and often, sometimes just leaving the tray, but you never touch it. You’ve lost weight, you know, and the only reason you are getting some nutrients at this point is because you occasionally sneak into the kitchens late at night for tiny snacks to tide you over. If Johnny knows it’s you, he’s never said anything.

Kyle is quieter, yet more present. The guilt eats away at him the most; he knows that his lack of care and respect had a part in the way the rest of the maids and staff treated you. He spends his evenings pacing the hall outside your room, his head bowed, mumbling apologies that you’ll never hear, wondering which one is best.

Once, he catches you in the garden alone, his mouth opening as if to speak, but you pass him without so much as a glance; you already know he won’t care for you have to say or ask for, he’ll just say he is busy, so you just don’t bother.

He stays frozen in place, his hand half-raised, the words stuck in his throat.

The servants, per Kyle and John’s orders, begin to change. Their guilt is slower to manifest, but it’s there and it’s evident in the way they rush to fulfill your needs despite your reluctance. They clean your room with quiet efficiency, no longer treating you like a burden, even though you hadn’t asked it of them. They leave fresh flowers on your desk and vanity, extra blankets on your bed, and freshly pressed gowns in your wardrobe.

You ignore all of it. It’s a waste of everyone’s time snd effort. You aren’t worth it.

Yet despite their heavy guilt, they return to and continue serving you.

But nothing changes the heaviness in your chest, the emptiness that refuses to leave.

One day, closer to the date of the annual winter gala hosted by the emperial family, you step into the dining room unannounced, your presence startling them all. It’s the first time you’ve joined them in weeks. You move slowly, your posture rigid and tired, your expression unreadable.

“Duchess,” John starts, his voice uncertain, rising from his seat.

“…John,” You sit without meeting his eyes, your movements slow and deliberate. The table is silent, the tension suffocating as John, Simon, and Kyle exchange uncertain glances.

John clears his throat. “It’s good to see you, wife.”

You don’t respond.

The meal is awkward, stilted, but it’s necessary for you; you need to get reused to John for your eventual reappearance in high society. Johnny offers you dishes with a hesitant, hopeful look in his eyes, and Kyle pours your wine with an unsteady grip. John and Simon try to start a conversation, but their words falter and fade when you don’t reply.

Still, they try. Over the following weeks, their efforts grow.

John begins carving out time to spend with you, awkwardly hovering near your door, waiting for even a crumb of acknowledgment. He starts leaving small notes for you- apologies and quiet promises to be better. They pile up on your desk, untouched but not thrown away. You want to believe, but you feel jaded and tired.

Simon offers you quiet companionship, instead. Standing at your side in the garden or library, saying nothing but ensuring you’re not alone. He speaks softly when he does talk, a one-sided conversation with only the occasional hum or noise from you, but he’s undeterred.

Johnny keeps cooking for you, leaving trays of food outside your door with little notes attached: Eat a bit, bonnie. Just for me. You don’t eat much, still have very little appetite, but you do start taking bites here and there, and it’s enough to keep him trying.

Kyle offers small acts of service- holding doors open for you, keeping anything you might need available at hanf, ensuring your rooms are kept warm and comfortable. His words are rare, but his actions speak of endless guilt and the quiet hope that he can earn even a sliver of forgiveness.

The maids and butlers follow suit, their movements quieter, their service more thoughtful. They stop muttering, their eyes full of remorse whenever they see you. They bow in respect, and no longer treat you as if you aren’t a part of the duchy.

But you keep them all at arm’s length. Their guilt is evident, their efforts genuine, but the wounds they’ve left on your heart are deep. Forgiveness, if it ever comes, will not be easily earned. For now, you let them try, watching their clumsy attempts with a mixture of numbness and quiet satisfaction (that you do feel guilty over, but truly can’t help).

Several weeks before the gala, John comes to your office. He sits down, and waits until you are finished with your paperwork before he speaks. You are in a beautiful dress- Simon’s gift- and your hair is in a delicate style, done by your maids. You look pretty. You feel nice, even if the numbness remains. These days, it’s less.

“Duchess, I was thinking,” he began, voice soft and patient. “it might do you some good to get away for a while. A change of scenery.”

You turned to look at him, the suggestion pulling you from your numb reverie. His blue eyes searched yours, and for once, there was no coldness, no distance. “Somewhere quiet,” he continued, “where you can rest… away from all of this.”

The idea of leaving the suffocating walls of the manor, and the heavy tension of the duchy was tempting. And yet, you hesitated, unsure if you could trust the gesture or if it was just another attempt to smooth over appearances.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he added quickly, as if sensing your doubt. “You won’t have to worry about a thing. You can choose who you’d like to go with, or even if you want to go alone. It’s entirely up to you, Duchess.”

Johnny and Kyle appeared in the doorway then, Kyle holding a tray with a steaming cup of tea, Johnny with a small, hopeful smile and a plate of your favorite biscuits. Even Simon lingered near the threshold, his gaze steady but tinged with something softer than usual.

They were all waiting for your answer, their expressions almost pleading. You could feel the weight of their guilt and the sincerity of their offer. It wasn’t much- not enough to erase everything that had passed- but it was something. A step forward.

“…I’ll think about it.” you said at last, your voice quiet but firm. And for the first time in a long while, you saw a flicker of relief in their eyes.

[meganegatari]

Okay.. but like, loser ellie but she’s also a stoner and explains the entire lore of spider man to you while you’re trying to have seggs and she’s like stoned out of her mind and yapping about literally spider man 😭

before you read!!

☆: THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY IM CRYING LMFAO had me dying for like 10 mins straight. this is longer than intended bc im a yapper as we know, and i kinda don't know much of the spiderman lore (and you can def tell oops)…BUT I LOVE THE WAY YOUR MIND WORKS NONNIE.

◇: sfw but suggestive themes. warning: FAR from my best work, just wanted to keep momentum going ig. basically just fluff, lots of buildup as usual SORRY i have to establish a plot before we get to the good stuff…they're of age obviously, their relationship is left vague/up for interpretation so fill in the blanks w/ your own thoughts! “babe” pet name usage, consumption of weed, duh. ok i suppose that's all. OH AND SBWM REFERENCE HAHAHA (shameless self plug :3) + 1.0k wc.

One nice, regular night, chilling at Ellie’s humble abode, getting high, the usual Friday evening activities. You both were laying down in her bed, wrapped up in her dinosaur bedsheets of course, you were resting your head on her chest, occasionally coughing and swatting away the residual smoke that lingered in the air.

The weed had made your head fuzzy and your mouth drier than the Sahara desert, but despite all the not-so-great things, you loved to get high with Ellie.

Sometimes you'd fuck, sometimes you'd talk about life and reminisce about the good, the bad, and the ugly, and sometimes you'd just lay there to enjoy each other's company.

She was so warm and comfortable, you simply wished to merge bodies and become one with her, to make a home inside her ribcage even. You'd be perfectly fine just napping there on her cushiony chest, listening to her steady heartbeat and slow intakes of breath, if it wasn't for the familiar ache of need between your legs.

Shifting to look up at her, she was so incredibly zooted out of her mind, you found it hilarious. Chunky glasses covered in fingerprint smudges and sitting crooked atop her nose, eyes blood-red and so heavy lidded, you'd have thought she was asleep had you not taken a closer look.

You lifted yourself up and pressed your lips to the side of her pink cheek, repeatedly kissing her soft, smooth skin. She let out a husky giggle, her voice all hoarse and crackly from the substance. “Hiiii.”

She dragged out the vowel, grinning widely at you. Her smile was infectious, and you laughed at her state. Burying your face again in the crook of her neck, you mumbled, “Hi Ellie…you're so cute.”

Tangled up together, you kissed her some more on her neck, wanting to be as close as possible to her. She sighed, and angled her head to give you better access to more surface area. “That feels nice.” She'd slur, and you were pretty turned on at this point, to say the least.

It was worth asking. “Ellie…do you wanna fuckkk?” You whisper against her ear, and watch in delight as the bright-red blush spreads across her entire face like a wildfire, even reaching her collar, and spreading underneathyour shirt. “Um, yeah, duh. C’mere.”

You pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips, tangling your hands in her auburn locks and parting your puffy lips to invite her tongue in, not noticing the spit dribble down your chin where your faces met. Her breathing quickened immediately, and she whined into your mouth, the kisses getting even messier to the point where your teeth were clinking together, so you backed away for a breather.

The two of you shifted positions so she was now on top of you, resting her hand on your hip, thumb rubbing small circles. She moved in to initiate more lip-locking, but pulled away abruptly.

“Babe I forgot to tell you, so y’know Peter Parker, right?” And there she goes.

“Yeah, yeah I know him, can you just-” You try to rush past the beginnings of her rambling, because you knew once she got started, there was no end in sight. At least for a while.

You tried pulling her in to meet your lips again by the back of her head, but were met with lots of resistance. She seemed to look more alert now, a miracle. The power of superheroes!

She shuffled off of you and sat upright, assuming a cross-legged position, clearly not noticing your exasperated huffs and purposely obnoxious eye rolling, and the fact that there was a whole-ass human, half undressed, horny girl on her bed right there in front of her, who was slowly losing patience.

Ellie just went to her own world. Her eyes sparkled with passionate wonder as she thought about the series so dear to her heart. “Okay I rewatched all the movies a few days ago and I noticed something new…”

You were ready to give up what you originally had in mind, she was too far gone. She talked and talked endlessly, and you had to feign interest, nodding along and murmuring, “Mhm, yeah Els. Wow that's cool. Huh, never knew.” As enthusiastically as you could, so she didn't feel like she wasn't being listened to.

It was worth noting too though, when she started info-dumping about her interests she really was adorable, an excitement in her grassy eyes you never see otherwise, gesturing wildly with her hands and mapping out ideas to make it easy for someone who's never seen any of it to digest all this new information.

“...And then, in the movies Into the Spiderverse and Across the Spiderverse, there's this character called Gwen Stacy.”

She stops to cough and clear her throat, now seemingly appearing to completely forget that you were even there.

“And- oh yeah! She's also in the comics and ugh she's awesome, I really love her suit. It's got a hood on it…if I were to have a spider suit, it would be her style. Hm, it would also be mostly like, green…with red accents, ah I'm gonna show you all the sketches I made of it. But anyway…”

To be completely honest, you've been out of the mood for enough time now, and you've come to the realization that it actually didn't bother you.

This was Ellie, and you loved her for her! There was always next time you two met for a smoke session, you just loved spending time with someone so treasured such as her, and you'd be lying to say the Spiderman world wasn't a little interesting.

"That's so cool, wait. Okay can you explain the timeline of it all, oh and also how do all these different movies interact, is it the same universe, or something like the multiverse I think you mentioned?”

[ruewritesoccasionally]

Friction & Flames | Terry Richmond

pairing: terry richmond x black!reader

warnings: smut (18+), workplace rivalry, power dynamics, forced proximity, angst, rough sex, oral (f receiving), light hair pulling, explicit language, possessiveness, a lot of dialogue, a little slow burn and Terry being an absolute menace (but we love him).

summary: a classic enemies-to-lovers showdown: sharp words, sharper tension, and a deadline that forces them into close quarters. When tempers flare and restraint snaps, her and Terry finally settle their differences - in their own way...

word count: 6.4K

a/n: this came out much longer than intended 😭 this is a reupload, just reworked - the original didn't do as well as i would've liked but also it wasn't my best work. i'm much happier with it now though and i hope you guys are too 🫶🏾

The alarm buzzed, shrill and relentless. She groaned, blindly slapping at the snooze button before peeling herself out of bed. Coffee brewed while she moved through her morning routine—shower, dress, make-up—each step as precise and efficient as the last. The world felt easier when it followed structure, when things happened as they should.

Which was exactly why he drove her insane.

Terry Richmond had no regard for order, for rules, for method. He operated on instinct, on charm, on raw talent that somehow, infuriatingly, got him just as far as the meticulous planning she slaved over. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. But it was the reality she faced every single day as his co-lead project manager.

By the time she arrived at the office, it was still quiet—just the way she liked it. These early mornings were her sanctuary, the only time of day when she could get ahead without distraction. But of course, peace never lasted long.

The telltale hum of easy conversation carried through the space, growing louder as he made his usual rounds. Schmoozing. Charming. Doing absolutely nothing useful. She didn’t even have to look up to know Terry had entered the room.

“Morning, everyone,” his voice rang out, smooth as silk.

Her fingers paused over the keyboard. Not yet. Not today. She kept her gaze locked on her screen, willing him away with sheer willpower.

No such luck.

“Well, well, Princess” he drawled, stopping beside her desk. “I see someone made it in without getting lost. Impressive.”

Her jaw tightened as she slowly swiveled in her chair, eyes locking onto his. That smirk. That self-satisfied, arrogant, infuriating smirk.

“For the last time, Terrance,” she said, enunciating his full name like a curse, “it’s not Sweetheart, it’s not Babygirl, and it’s definitely not Princess. Now turn around and—”

“Terrance,” he interrupted with a hand over his chest, feigning a wound to his heart. “Damn. And here I was, thinking we were past the formalities.”

Her glare could’ve set the whole office ablaze, but he only grinned wider, like he enjoyed the fire.

He always did.

The smug grin Terry shot her before he strolled to his desk was enough to make her want to hurl her coffee at him. Bastard. He knew exactly how to get under her skin, and he did it with a deliberate ease that made her blood boil. She inhaled deeply, gripping her pen tighter than necessary, willing herself to stay calm. The workday had barely begun, and he was already pressing every button she had.

It had been like this for years. Their competition wasn’t just petty office bickering—it was a game of survival. A slow-burning, high-stakes war waged between two people too damn good at what they did to ever back down.

The promotions? She’d landed hers first. The biggest client of last quarter? He’d swooped in and stolen it from right under her nose. Every time she thought she had the upper hand, Terry Richmond would find a way to level the playing field—or tilt it entirely in his favour.

And he loved it.

She could see it in the way he watched her now, that knowing glint in his stormy grey eyes as if he was waiting for her to snap.

Not today.

Before she could drown him out with work, Linda’s heels clicked against the floor, her presence snapping the room into silence. Linda was direct, no-nonsense, and not easily impressed—so when she stopped by their desks instead of addressing the entire team, something was up.

“This next campaign is the biggest account we’ve landed all year,” she started, flipping through the folder in her hands. “Which means I need our best people on it.”

She paused—just for a beat—before letting the inevitable bomb drop.

“I want both of you heading it.”

Her stomach twisted, and she barely managed to suppress a groan. Of course.

Terry leaned back in his chair, the picture of casual amusement. “Our best, huh? You sure you want to put her in the running, boss?”

Her jaw tightened. “I should be asking the same about you.”

Linda exhaled sharply. “Enough. I don’t care how you two feel about it—I care about results. And between the two of you, I expect nothing but success.”

Linda’s expression remained impassive as she looked between them. “I don’t care how you two feel about it. This job is crucial, and it needs to be done. Quickly.” Her voice was sharp, clipped, leaving no room for argument. “In fact, why don’t you use tonight to start planning? Somewhere neutral. Off-site. No distractions.”

The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. The mere suggestion of being alone together outside of work sent an undercurrent of something charged through the air.

Terry’s smirk stretched wider, like a cat toying with a trapped bird. “Neutral, huh? Guess that rules out your place, Princess.”

Her jaw clenched at the nickname, her irritation simmering just beneath the surface. “Don’t call me that,” she hissed, voice razor-sharp.

Linda, either blissfully unaware or purposefully ignoring the crackling tension, made a quick note on her clipboard. “That’s settled, then. I expect a full report by tomorrow morning.” She barely spared them a glance before walking away, her heels clicking against the floor in sharp finality.

Terry, ever insufferable, watched her go before turning his gaze back to the woman standing in front of him. His smirk hadn’t faltered once.

“Looks like we’re stuck with each other tonight,” he murmured, voice low, teasing.

She shot him a withering glare, but deep down, she already knew—this was going to be a very, very long night.

The words settled like a weight in the air. She hated that Linda was right. Neither of them would ever willingly bow out of something like this, not when winning meant getting one step ahead of the other.

And Terry knew it too.

He tipped his chin toward her, a slow smirk spreading across his lips. “What do you say, sweetheart? Think you can keep up?”

She refused to look at him, refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, she turned to Linda and gave a curt nod. “Fine. I assume we’re getting full creative control?”

Linda returned the nod. “Within reason.”

“We’ll see about that,” Terry murmured under his breath.

Linda gave them one last pointed glance before walking off, leaving the tension behind her thick enough to choke on.

She should have just let it go. She should have focused on the work, ignored him like he was nothing more than an annoying fly buzzing in her ear.

But then she saw it—his damn smirk widening, like he knew she wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to bite back.

Slowly, she turned her head to him, keeping her expression neutral. “Try not to get in my way, Richmond.”

His gaze flickered with amusement, but he leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice. “I wouldn’t dream of it, babygirl.”

Her fists clenched at her sides as she bit back a retort. She was going to need every ounce of patience to survive this.

The hours ticked by, and as expected, Terry took his sweet time getting back to her about the details of their meeting. She wasn’t surprised. He loved making her wait, forcing her to reach out first. But she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. Not tonight.

She went about her evening, refusing to check her phone, knowing that the moment she did, he’d win. And she’d sooner staple her own hand than let him believe she was sitting around, waiting on him.

When her phone finally buzzed, she ignored it for a few minutes before opening the message with deliberate disinterest.

Terry: Meet me at my place. 10 PM. Try not to get too distracted tonight, Princess.

She exhaled sharply through her nose, her fingers tightening around the phone. She should have known. Of course he’d make this as inconvenient as possible. Not a café, not a bar, not even the office—his place. A blessing in disguise to be honest. There was no way she’d let him pollute the sanctuary of her own home with presence.

He was testing her.

She could decline. Tell him to meet somewhere neutral, somewhere that wouldn’t give him the upper hand. But then he’d smirk that insufferable smirk and say something smug about her being too scared to be alone with him.

And she refused to give him that, too.

So she texted back.

Her: Fine.

The response was short, devoid of anything he could twist into a game. Still, she knew he’d find a way.

Standing in front of his door, irritation coursed through her, tangled with something deeper—something she refused to name. She wasn’t nervous. That would imply he had some kind of power over her, and he didn’t. He didn’t.

The door swung open, and there he was: Terry Richmond, leaning lazily against the frame and she was immediately annoyed. He looked too good. Smug satisfaction lined his face, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, exposing inked skin stretched over muscle.

"My, my, my," he drawled, letting his gaze sweep over her with deliberate slowness. "Don’t you look stunning. Don’t tell me you dressed up for me."

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Terry, you’re on my time now—use it wisely," she snapped, slicing through his charm before it could gain traction.

Terry raised an eyebrow, his smirk faltering for a split second as he clocked her no-nonsense mood. He adjusted quickly, though, stepping aside and gesturing her in with a lazy wave. "Come on in, then. We wouldn’t want to waste your precious time, would we?"

“Didn’t think you’d show.” His voice was lazy, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

She tried pushing past him but he blocked her movements. “I’m here to work, not play into your little games.”

He finally moved, shutting the door behind her, a low chuckle escaping him. “Princess, everything we do is a game.”

She walked past him, jaw tightened, but she ignored him, scanning the apartment instead. It was neat, too neat. The kind of place that suggested he didn’t spend much time here, that it was more of a crash pad than a home. Still, it smelled like him—clean, woodsy, with a faint trace of cologne—and the familiarity of it made her stomach tighten.

Terry shut the door, watching her. Always watching. "Drink?"

"No."

He hummed, pouring himself a glass of whiskey anyway. "Suit yourself."

She moved to the dining table, pulling out her laptop. "Let’s just get this done."

Terry exhaled dramatically, taking the seat across from her. "So eager. You always this desperate to get away from me?"

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she met his gaze, bored. "Depends. You always this desperate to keep me around?"

His lips curled. "Oh, always, sweetheart."

She hated the way her pulse betrayed her. The way his voice dripped with a promise she refused to decipher.

As the night stretched on, she noticed his focus drifting—not from the project, but from her. His gaze lingered too long, tracing the line of her throat when she sipped her drink, flicking to her mouth when she spoke, dropping to her bare legs beneath the table.

She knew the exact moment he stopped caring about work.

“Tired?” she asked, feigning innocence.

Terry leaned back in his chair, stretching leisurely. “Bored.”

“Because you’re losing?”

His smirk deepened. “You think this is a competition?”

She mirrored his expression. “Isn’t it?”

The words hung heavy between them, thick with something unspoken. Something neither of them wanted to name.

Shaking it off, she focused on the task at hand. They settled into work, heads bent over the project, their focus sharp. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to believe this might actually be productive.

But Terry was Terry, and peace was never part of his repertoire.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know what they were supposed to be doing—he did. But slipping in his usual jabs was second nature, like breathing. Whether it was the clash of egos, his compulsive need to compete with her, or sheer stupidity, he couldn’t seem to help himself.

To her credit, she let it slide. For now. His behaviour, by his standards, was almost tolerable, and she kept her focus on the task at hand. So much so that she barely noticed the way his eyes lingered on her.

Terry wasn’t focused on the proposal anymore. His gaze drifted, taking in every detail: the shimmer of gloss on her lips as she spoke, the way her movements carried an effortless grace even in her irritation. He wasn’t oblivious to the effect she had on him.

She walked into every room with a quiet confidence that drew him in, her voice carrying an authority that demanded attention. And it drove him mad that she seemed entirely unaffected by him. Her refusal to acknowledge his flirtations turned into a game he couldn’t resist playing. He loved riling her up, watching her react. Every glare, every clapback—it all meant she cared, and that’s what he wanted.

He leaned back in his chair, letting her take the lead on the project, though his mind had long since wandered. His eyes lingered on the way she crossed her legs, the slight arch of her back as she leaned forward to emphasise her point. He imagined how it would feel to have her closer, to—

And then he couldn’t resist.

“So," he drawled, his voice low, carrying that signature teasing edge, "how many other guys would kill to be in my position right now?"

That was it.

Something inside her snapped. Her face flushed, anger blazing in her eyes as she shot to her feet. Fists clenched at her sides, she fixed him with a glare that could melt steel.

"You arrogant, son of a—"

But she didn’t get the chance to finish.

Terry was already grinning, wider than ever, his expression one of pure satisfaction. He basked in the chaos he’d created, every ounce of her fury a testament to his power to get under her skin.

He leaned back, utterly unbothered, his smirk taking on a wicked gleam. He’d pushed her to this point, and he loved it. Relished it. This was his game, and he was playing it to perfection.

The tension in the room shifted—thick, potent, and almost suffocating. He moved toward her with a predatory grace, every step deliberate, his presence commanding. Placing his hands firmly on the armrests of her chair, he caged her in, leaving no room for escape.

Trapped and surrounded by his heat, her senses were overwhelmed. But even as he asserted his dominance, one thought lingered in his mind: she would taste him later.

Leaning down, he lowered his voice to a murmur that sent shivers racing down her spine.

"You see how easy it is for me to get under your skin?" His breath ghosted against her neck, his lips barely brushing her ear in a tantalising tease.

"But between you and me," he continued, his tone thick with sinful intent, "I’d rather you be under me."

The hitch in her breath was almost imperceptible, but Terry caught it. Of course, he caught it. That was the thing about him—he noticed everything. The way her pulse flickered at her throat. The way her fingers clenched, then relaxed, then clenched again, like she was trying to fight off whatever was brewing inside her.

And the way she didn’t move away.

His smirk deepened, his hands still bracketing her chair, keeping her right where he wanted her.

“I can see you're thinking about it,” he murmured, his voice dipping into something richer, smoother, meant to sink under her skin. “We both know how this ends. Why fight it?”

She scoffed, though it came out weaker than she wanted. “You’re delusional.”

His lips twitched. There she was. “And yet,” he murmured, tilting his head, “you’re still standing here. Close enough to feel me.”

She swallowed hard.

Terry chuckled. Low, slow, like he had all the time in the world. He let one hand trail up the armrest of her chair, fingers grazing hers. Barely a touch. Just enough to make her breath hitch again.

Then, he leaned in. Closer.

She could smell the whiskey on his breath, the warmth of it mixing with something darker, something entirely him.

And she hated—hated—how badly she wanted more.

“You know what I think?” he murmured. “I think you like this. The arguing. The tension. The push and pull. I think it gets you off—”

She moved before she could second-guess herself. A sharp, frustrated sound left her throat as she grabbed him by the collar and yanked him down, her lips crashing against his.

Terry groaned, deep and guttural, as if he’d been waiting for this, aching for this. His hands found her waist, gripping tight, and then suddenly she wasn’t in the chair anymore—she was against it, her back pressed into the table as he stepped between her legs, pressing into her, all hard heat and impossible arrogance.

Her fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt, holding him there, not that he had any plans to go anywhere. His mouth was urgent against hers—hot, demanding, a perfect mirror to the fire that had been simmering between them for months.

She bit down on his lower lip, just hard enough to make him grunt.

Good, she thought, satisfaction curling in her stomach. If she was going down in flames, he was burning with her.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark, wild, consuming.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that,” he murmured, his thumb dragging over her bottom lip.

She licked the tip of it, just to watch his jaw tighten.

“I think I have some idea,” she teased, voice breathless, electric.

Terry’s eyes darkened, amusement flickering into something sharper. Hungrier.

“Alright, Princess,” he murmured, voice dropping to something low, something dangerous. “You wanna play?”

The air shifted.

The power balance tilted.

And neither of them were backing down.

Terry let out a slow, dangerous chuckle. Then he kissed her again—deeper, harder, bruising in its intensity.

His hands gripped her waist with practiced ease, lifting her effortlessly to her feet as he closed the remaining distance between them. Their bodies collided, his heat searing against hers. His lips crashed into hers with an intensity that was anything but gentle—a clash of teeth and tongues, raw and unrestrained. She tasted like temptation, and for a fleeting moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

She met him with equal fervour, her fingers threading into his hair and tugging him closer, pulling a low growl from his throat. He took it as permission to push further, his lips leaving hers to trail down her jawline. His teeth grazed her skin, nipping lightly before soothing the spot with his tongue.

As they pulled apart, his smirk spread, slow and calculated, dripping with satisfaction. His eyes gleamed with the knowledge of what he’d just unleashed. The storm between them was no longer just a simmering rivalry—it was a blaze, out of control, and neither one of them knew how to stop it.

“You think you’ve got this figured out, don’t you?” His voice was rougher now, all edge and low heat. There was an unspoken challenge in the air. He was no longer just teasing—this was war, and the rules had changed.

Her heart raced, her pulse thundering in her ears, but she refused to let him see the effect he was having. Instead, she shot him a pointed look. “I’ve got more than you think.”

He chuckled, the sound dark and mocking. “Always so sure of yourself, aren’t you?” He pushed off the desk, the sudden movement bringing them closer, his towering presence stealing her breath away. His eyes never left hers, hungry, predatory.

They were circling each other now, neither willing to show weakness, both battling for dominance. The air around them felt too thick, too heavy, but neither of them could make the first move. The competition had always been fierce, but this? This was something different. Something primal.

Her gaze flickered to the clock on the wall, as if time could be her ally. “I’m just here to finish the job,” she said, trying to sound detached, but the words caught in her throat, betraying her. They both knew it was more than that.

Terry’s gaze softened, just for a moment. Then he was back to his usual cocky self, pressing closer. “It’s funny,” he murmured, voice quieter now, like he was letting her in on a secret. “You act like I’m the one distracting you.” His fingers brushed the edge of her desk, and the simple movement was enough to send a shiver down her spine.

Her clenched her fists at her sides. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

She was playing right into his hands. Lowering himself further, his lips brushed along the line of her jaw, his breath hot and unrelenting as he whispered, "Nuh-uh. That’s not how this works, sweetheart. You’re in my house now." His voice dropped even lower, the words landing with weight. "And you play by my rules."

Fully closing the space now, his breath warm against her skin. “You always know how to keep things interesting, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, his breath warm against her flushed skin.

It was a challenge. A dare. And it hit harder than any insult or word they’d thrown at each other before.

His proximity was intoxicating. She could feel his heat radiating off him, like a physical presence pressing against her own, testing her resolve. For a moment, she considered backing away, but something about the way he looked at her—so assured, so relentless—made it impossible to move.

His fingers grazed her wrist, just barely, the touch lingering enough to make her skin burn. She could feel her breath quicken, the air around them thick with unspoken words. The space between them was dangerously small now, and neither one of them was backing down.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" she asked, voice a little more breathless than she'd intended.

Terry’s smile turned devilish, the playful glint in his eyes sharpening. “What would be the fun in that?” he said, then stepped back, breaking the spell with a sudden, disarming ease. He ran a hand through his hair, cocky as ever. “Let’s see who cracks first, then.”

Her pulse quickened at the challenge, the tension between them building with every word. Neither of them was prepared to lose. Not this time. And as the clock ticked on, the battle between them grew more intense, the stakes impossibly high.

His hands moved with purpose, one slipping to the small of her back while the other pressed against her hip, guiding her until her back met the solid surface of the nearest wall. The coolness against her skin was a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from him, pressing into her with an intensity that made her breath hitch. Every nerve in her body was alive, her senses alight with the overwhelming presence of him.

She wanted to snap back, to hurl something biting, to put him in his place with that razor-sharp tongue of hers—but nothing came. Her thoughts were too hazy, clouded by the way he towered over her, by the way his body felt against hers. His presence was magnetic, undeniable, and it was pulling her under like a riptide she had no hope of escaping.

Then his hand brushed against her arm—a barely-there touch, yet it sent a bolt of electricity straight to her core. A sharp breath left her lips. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. She hated him, truly, deeply. But she wanted him just as fiercely. And no matter how much she tried to deny it, to shove it down where it couldn't be touched, it clawed its way back to the surface.

Terry took another step closer, deliberate, unhurried, his confidence infuriatingly steady. His fingers trailed lower, sliding to the small of her back again, and this time, he pulled her in. Every inch of her was flush against him now, the heat between them scorching, the last remnants of distance obliterated.

“What’s it gonna be, sweetheart?” he whispered, lips brushing the shell of her ear, his voice dripping with challenge. “You gonna keep pretending? Or are you ready to stop fighting this?”

The words settled heavy between them, the weight of them undeniable. The world outside blurred, irrelevant. All she could hear was the deafening pound of her own heartbeat, the ragged pull of her breath.

And then, like a dam breaking, every pent-up emotion, every unresolved moment between them came crashing down.

Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt before she could stop herself, a sharp tug pulling him into her space. She wasn’t following his lead anymore—this wasn’t about his challenge, his rules. She was setting the pace now. She was in control.

His smirk deepened, as if he’d been waiting for this exact moment. But she didn’t give him the satisfaction of gloating. She surged forward, her lips crashing into his with a force that stole the breath from both of them.

Terry groaned against her mouth, the sound raw, almost desperate. Then his hands were on her again, moving with an urgency that sent a fresh wave of heat through her. He caught her wrists in one swift motion, lifting her arms above her head, pinning them effortlessly against the wall. His body followed suit, pressing her there, letting her feel the weight of him, the full brunt of his control.

For just a second, he held her like that—let her feel the shift, let her know exactly who had the upper hand now.

Then his lips crashed into hers again, rough, unrelenting.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was everything they had never said, everything they had pushed down, everything that had burned between them from the very first moment they met.

The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in, trapping them in the storm they had created. Her pulse pounded against her ribs as his hands slid down, gripping her waist and pulling her tighter against him. His touch was firm, possessive, but there was something else beneath it—a quiet, maddening restraint, like even now, he was holding back.

She arched against him, breathless, defiant.

“Do you feel that?” he murmured, his lips a hair’s breadth from hers, his voice dark, taunting. “I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Her breath shuddered as she stared up at him, her mind a blur of want and frustration, her body betraying her with the way it leaned into his.

And the worst part?

She had been waiting for it too.

The arrogance in his tone should have pissed her off. She should have shoved him away, thrown a cutting remark to put him back in his place. But instead, his words sent a shiver down her spine, pooling heat low in her belly. Her heart pounded—loud, insistent—as if trying to warn her, but she knew he could hear it, feel it, just like she could feel the heat radiating off him, pressing into her.

She hated that he had this effect on her. Hated how effortlessly he stripped away her defences, unravelled her completely with nothing but a look, a touch, a single taunting word.

In a blink, she found herself against the wall, the hard surface biting into her back, his body caging hers in. She should have fought it, should have snapped something defiant—but she didn’t. The space between them dissolved, his lips hovering just inches from hers, his breath warm against her skin.

“Do you want me to stop?” His voice was thick, roughened with something unreadable. It almost sounded like concern. But she knew better. This wasn’t concern. This was a test. A challenge. A game of control, of willpower, of just how far he could push her before she shattered.

Her lips parted, but hesitation caught in her throat. Because if she said no, she couldn’t take it back.

Terry’s fingers skimmed the side of her thigh, his touch maddeningly light, a whisper of contact that made her body jolt in anticipation. The bastard was waiting. Letting the silence stretch. Letting her squirm under the weight of her own restraint.

Her nails curled into his chest, tension coiling tight in her stomach, and she knew she was at the edge—dangling over it.

Then, barely audible, she whispered, “No.”

His smirk was slow, dangerous. “That’s my girl.”

Then his mouth crashed into hers.

There was nothing soft about it. No careful prelude, no tentative exploration—just pure, unchecked hunger. He kissed her like he wanted to brand her, own her, stake his claim right there against that cold, unforgiving wall. And she met him just as fiercely, dragging him in by the collar, teeth clashing, tongues tangling in a battle of dominance neither was willing to concede.

His hands moved with intent, sliding beneath her shirt, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of her ribs before finding the swell of her breasts. He cupped them through the thin lace, his thumbs circling over her nipples with infuriating precision. A sharp gasp left her lips, her body betraying her, arching into his touch instead of away.

Terry hummed against her mouth, amusement flickering through the kiss. “So sensitive,” he murmured, dragging her shirt higher, exposing her inch by inch like he had all the time in the world. “You needed this, didn’t you?”

She wanted to deny it, wanted to bite out something sharp to wipe that smirk off his face, but then his teeth grazed her jaw, his lips dragging down her throat, and any words she might have had died in a sharp inhale.

His hands were ruthless now, dragging her skirt up, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her knickers. The moment he found her, slick and wanting, a curse left his lips.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his breath hot against her skin. “Look at you.”

Her thighs tensed, heat surging through her, but before she could process the words, before she could react, he was gone.

The sudden loss of his touch made her shudder, her breath catching—but then he dropped to his knees.

Her stomach clenched.

Strong hands gripped her thighs, pried them apart, lifting one over his shoulder with unrelenting ease. He didn’t speak, didn’t offer any more smug remarks. He just stared up at her, dark eyes gleaming with wicked intent, and then—

His mouth was on her.

A choked gasp tore from her lips, her head knocking back against the wall. His tongue was relentless, dragging over her with obscene precision, tasting her like he’d been starving for it. Her fingers twisted into his hair, her grip tight enough to hurt, but he only groaned, the vibrations sending another wave of heat crashing through her.

She refused to give in so easily. She refused to let him win.

But then he sucked—slow and devastatingly deep—and her entire body jerked, a whimper slipping free before she could stop it.

Terry chuckled against her, the sound smug, knowing. His grip on her thigh tightened, a silent warning, and then his fingers joined the fray—two slipping inside her, filling her with an unrelenting precision that had her shuddering against the wall.

Her resolve shattered.

“Terry—”

He grinned, curling his fingers just right, hitting that spot that had her thighs shaking. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured against her, voice thick with satisfaction. “Let me hear you.”

She had no choice. He tore the sounds from her, made her body betray her again and again, driving her higher, dragging her over the edge with devastating ease. And when it finally hit, when pleasure crashed through her like a violent storm, her body seized, her breath strangled, her fingers yanking at his hair as she cried out his name.

Terry didn’t stop. He worked her through every wave, every tremor, didn’t let go until she was fully spent, trembling, utterly undone.

Then, finally, he pulled back, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he murmured, his voice smug, satisfied. Then he rose, towering over her once again, his gaze locking onto hers as he wiped the last traces of her from his lips.

And God help her, she wanted more.

Neither of them had the patience—or the inclination—to take this upstairs. The moment stretched, charged, heavy with the weight of everything unspoken. Every second they waited only made it worse.

Terry’s hands were already on her, firm and insistent, guiding her towards the couch like he couldn’t bear even an inch of distance between them.

“Right here,” he growled, voice low and commanding. “I’m done waiting.”

She didn’t protest. Couldn’t. Her breath hitched as he turned her around, rough hands gripping her hips with purpose, bending her over the plush cushions. The anticipation was maddening, her skin buzzing under the ghost of his touch as his fingers trailed down her back, slow, deliberate—like he was savouring the moment, relishing her submission.

“Stay just like that,” he murmured, his voice dark silk, but his hands were anything but gentle. The rush of air against her thighs sent a shudder through her as he pushed her skirt up, his fingers dragging over the lace of her underwear before slipping them down in one smooth motion.

A sharp inhale cut through the silence. He wasn’t even touching her, but she felt it—his gaze, the weight of it scorching her skin.

“Fuck,” he muttered, almost to himself. “You’re perfect.”

Her nails curled into the fabric beneath her, fighting for something to ground her, but then Terry was pressing against her, all heat and hunger, the hard evidence of his arousal making her breath falter.

“Say it.” His voice was thick, strained, heavy with restraint he was barely holding onto. “Tell me you want this.”

She clenched her jaw, heart pounding. He wouldn’t move until she said it. Wouldn’t give her what she was aching for.

Her resolve cracked, her need eclipsing her pride. “I want this,” she whispered, her voice barely more than breath. Then, stronger—daring. “I want you.”

That was all it took.

His grip tightened—one hand pressing into the small of her back, the other bracing her hip—before he thrust into her in one fluid movement.

A broken gasp tore from her lips, her body arching as he filled her completely, stretching her, owning her. There was no hesitation, no restraint. He took her with raw, unrelenting force, his movements deep and demanding, fuelled by the same tension that had kept them at odds for so long.

His fingers dug into her skin, holding her still, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. “So fucking good,” he groaned, voice wrecked, like he was barely holding himself together. “Better than I ever let myself imagine.”

She barely registered the words. Her mind was slipping, drowning in the rhythm of him, the way he moved, the way he took. Every deep stroke unravelled her, pulling her further under, until all she could do was surrender to it—to him.

Terry leaned in, his chest flush against her back, his breath hot against her ear as his hand slid into her braids, tugging just enough to tilt her head back. “Don’t hold back, baby.” His voice was a rough whisper, wicked and coaxing. “I want to hear you.”

And she did.

Her moans spilled into the room, raw and unrestrained, each sound sending a fresh surge of heat through him. He rewarded her for it, driving into her with punishing precision, wringing every reaction from her until she was teetering on the edge, trembling, gasping—

Then she shattered.

A sharp cry broke from her lips as pleasure tore through her, leaving her breathless, undone. She felt him falter, his pace growing erratic, his grip tightening—then, with a deep, guttural groan, he followed her over the edge, his release spilling into her as he collapsed against her, spent.

Silence settled over them, save for their ragged breaths.

Terry’s hands, once rough and claiming, softened on her hips, tracing slow, lazy circles against her skin. He eased out of her, lingering for just a moment longer before stepping back, watching as she pulled herself together.

Then, with all the composure she could muster, YN wiped her mouth and turned to face him, lips curling into something wicked. “Well,” she said, smoothing her skirt down, “I suppose we can’t call it a productive meeting until we actually finish that proposal, huh?”

Terry chuckled, raking a hand through his messy hair, looking every bit as wrecked as she felt. “Oh, don’t worry,” he drawled, flashing that signature, lazy grin. “We’ll get it done. I work best under pressure… just like tonight.”

She arched a brow, crossing her arms. “Funny,” she shot back, “you didn’t seem too worried about the deadline when you were too busy getting under my skin.”

His grin widened, smug, infuriatingly charming. “Well, now that I’ve got you warmed up, I’m sure the rest of the work will be a breeze.”

She rolled her eyes, but the smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her. “Let’s just make sure we finish before Linda decides to make one of her famous surprise appearances.”

Terry laughed, shaking his head as he reached for his laptop. “Agreed. But next time—neutral ground, alright?”

“Next time?” she echoed, tilting her head. “You’re really pushing your luck, Terry.”

He leaned back, flashing her a wink. “Don’t worry, babygirl, I’m not done with you yet.”

And as they turned their attention back to the proposal, the tension between them still hummed in the air, thick and unresolved. They both knew this wasn’t over.

Not even close.

taglist: @writingsbytee @venusincleo @nickidub718 @notapradagurl7 @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @wildcardmelaninfreak

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING REUNITED !!! SEBASTIAN V. X FEM!READER! X MARK W. (18+)

summary: sometimes a cat-and-mouse game of three can last longer than intended.

content warning: smut below the cut (minors dni), explicit language, mfm threesome, dom!sebastian and dom!mark (mentions rbr!mark and rbr!seb), multi 21, oral sex (m receiving) + deepthroat + facefucking, dumbification if you squint hard enough, double penetration + spitroast, praise kink, size kink-esque, age gap (with mark), unprotected sex (NOT RECOMMENDED)

💌re:moony's planner request: "pls more webberxsebxreader preferably smut"

note: i have a couple asks/requests sitting on my inbox for a while and this is the first thing i've written in a while 😭 i'm sorry to disappoint y'all but enjoy regardless xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

even ten years later, she still had them chasing after her. 

working with red bull was anything but easy for her back in 2012, being a 22 years old woman and all. women in motorsports were something of a relatively new topic back then and when she made her presence known in the milton keynes factory, she would have expected things to be hard for her.

well… it was hard for her for a brief moment until a certain australian and german molded her into something more bold, giving her the attention and validation she desired. 

yet she persisted, thinking of them as people who merely wanted her to feel comfortable in the formula one field. she didn’t think much of it before.

until malaysia 2013 happened. sebastian vettel won after he stopped following a team order, causing mark webber his p1 and in the process the ‘multi 21’ controversy occurred. 

she was there to witness all of that - from mark’s radio to sebastian’s interview post-race, even their cooldown room segment. she was there. 

that was also the same night mark finally snapped and bent her over his hotel room bed, with her allowing mark to fuck the frustration out of himself while she whined and cried about how big he was— and how full she felt. 

it didn’t take long for sebastian to hear her whimpering and her pleading, as his room was situated next to mark’s. the german driver came knocking on mark’s door, and sebastian found his cock in her mouth and his hands gripping her hair. 

mark, ever the dominant man that he was, demanded the woman to suck the race winner’s cock and condescendingly told sebastian it was a ‘congratulatory gift’ from the australian. 

that was the last night they’ve ever seen each other in the same bed, but they saw each other a lot in the paddock. 

in 2014, mark left for world endurance while sebastian continued to chase after her - to which she explicitly stated that she wasn’t going to do it again. but sebastian pursued her continuously anyway.

now, in 2023, both men were retired but they always found themselves coming back to the paddock or the pit lane. mark webber had been managing a driver who was a rookie this year, while sebastian couldn’t find himself to leave the scene as he was newly retired. 

both had excuses, but no one really knew the real reason why they kept coming back. no one knew but themselves… and her. 

the ten year build up led to her hotel room by the suzuka track, her tits were splayed out and pinched and caressed by both men and her knicker becoming more damp as they continued to tease her. she uttered nothing but a pitiful sigh, something that had both men groaning in delight.

“god, i fuckin’ miss that whining of yours, baby,” mark nipped her ear, his greying stubble grazing her neck and his grubby fingers nestling themselves between her legs. “miss the way you fuckin’ plead. you miss being handled like this, don’t you?”

sebastian chuckled darkly, his hand finding itself stabilizing her chin as he examined her desperate face. “and you thought those men you’ve been fucking were fulfilling your needs,” sebastian’s german accent thickened as he gave her an amused smile, “we’ve been waiting for this for ten years, liebe.”

it was a blur, having to figure out how she went from sinking down to her knees and choking on sebastian’s cock as the tip hit the back of her throat. she could feel a lot of things.

this included mark’s hand that held her hair up and bobbed her head back and forth. mark crooned sweetly and praised her, “there we go. that’s a good girl. keep sucking his cock like that, baby. you’re doing so good for him.” 

mark nearly laughed when he watched her knees close and clench, fascinated at her submissive state as his eyes looked at her teary ones.

sebastian’s usually-bright-blue eyes were darkening as her mouth took in mark’s length, watching the way her tongue swirled around the aussie’s tip before her nose grazed the hipbone of the older man. 

mark let out a guttural groan, feeling his tip at the back of her throat as she skillfully took him in. he let out a string of curses before he muttered, “good girl. keep sucking me off like that. ‘m gonna fuck this throat of yours, hm?” he peered down at her, waiting for her go ahead and witnessing her nod. 

sebastian smirked as mark’s hips began to snap forward, lewd sounds of liquid escaping her barely empty mouth as she continued to indulge in mark’s cock.

“she can take us both so well,” sebastian crooned to the girl, stroking his cock at the same pace mark fucked her mouth with his length.

a few snaps of his hips after, mark finally pulled her mouth away and allowed her to breathe. she panted heavily, looking up at the towering man and still kneeling before them. 

“think you can take both of us, schatz?” sebastian asked the woman as if she couldn’t comprehend a word anymore. her bruised throat didn’t tell them anything, earning an amused laugh from mark and sebastian. she was already fucked out and she only sucked their cocks. 

mark could remember how desperate she was to suck him off after his loss at malaysia, wanting to please him after he grew frustrated with sebastian’s refusal of order in the track. all mark could think about was how ten years later he was going to feel her again. perhaps even better this time.

sebastian laid on the bed, gesturing for the woman to sit on his cock. 

mark’s hand helped the woman up before slapping her ass, his mouth letting out a smirk when she let out a soft sigh at the impact. 

soon, she sat on sebastian’s lap, sinking down on his cock as she let out a moan, “oh fuck…” 

she adjusted, allowing herself to bounce on sebastian’s cock for a moment before she felt mark move and settle behind her. a splatter of lube escaped its bottle as mark spread it generously, in the process his fingers prodded her back hole as she let out a soft whine. 

mark fucked her with his fingers while sebastian continued to thrust slowly, making her writhe and cry out for the two of them. they really had missed this— her pitiful and pleading moan. they missed making her cry like she hadn’t been fucked hard before. 

“mm… so fuckin’ tight,” mark whispered in her ear, pulling his hand away to stroke his cock and lubricate it. 

she nearly collapsed on top of sebastian when mark’s cock entered her slowly, both she and mark letting out loud moans. she felt so full while mark felt like she was hugging his cock tightly. 

“fuck, mark!” she exclaimed, her head nuzzling sebastian’s shoulder for a moment as she babbled, “so fucking big. god, you’re so fucking big!” 

“you’re so tight for us, schatz,” sebastian murmured and kissed her temple sweetly. “so fragile, we can barely fit ourselves in your holes.” 

“seb,” she whimpered as she muttered, “‘m so full.”

“i know you are, bebe,” sebastian said, humouring her submissive state while mocking her in the process, “you’re so full that you can’t think anymore, hm? all you can do is be a good girl for us because you’re already fucked out.” 

mark groaned loudly, now moving languidly alongside sebastian as the two men thrusted in and out of her holes. she couldn’t do much, she couldn’t even reminisce because of the sensations that she’s lost all thanks to their dominance and their primal urge to fuck her endlessly.

“you miss this, baby?” mark whispered heatedly, now moving rougher as she cried out their names. “missed this body of yours.”

“you had us running after you for years,” sebastian smirked, “now you’re a putty in our hands. such a shame you made us wait this long.”

“it’s a good thing we caught you eventually,” mark added as his eyes found her hands clawing at sebastian’s bare chest while she whined and squirmed in pleasure.

“because we’re gonna make sure you’re not gonna slip away anymore. gonna make sure you’re ours. gonna make sure everyone knows you’re ours — we’re gonna fuckin’ ruin every man for you like we did in 2013.” 

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness

[nipuni]

A little life update!

I'm back from our latest trip and leaving again in a couple of days but! I can finally say we are officially moving! 😄

We've been looking for houses travelling back and forth from Galicia weekly these last few months. It was an ordeal in many ways, a logistical and bureaucratic nightmare honestly, we found and lost many houses and spent so much money, time and braincells in the process. But in the end we found the most amazing house so it was worth it!! In our favorite city, beautiful antique furniture, several floors, extra rooms for hobbies, enclosed balcony, a fireplace, a whole garden with a lemon tree!! and for the same rent price than what we are paying for our small apartment in Madrid now lmao, big city prices are nonsensical 😭

We met the neighbors over the garden fence one morning and they are so lovely, they have apple trees and offered some to us and we met their dog too and they told us the story of the house and the people who have lived in it and places and customs of the town and offered to take us to the farmers markets to teach us about the best choices 🥺

We also met our landlady's family and they are so nice and friendly too. They helped us out with furniture, all their children and husband helped too and we offered to invite them all for dinner sometime to thank them when we are settled and they said they would invite us instead because they are six and we are two lmao Ahhh I just can't believe this is all real, it feels like a dream.

The weather is also colder and way rainier and we can finally enjoy summer like the earth intended, I'm no longer a summer hater!! We have wildflowers and mushrooms and magpies in our garden!! and chestnuts!! and an attic!! and a stone grill!! and a big bright kitchen aaaaa I can't stop gushing about everything

Nicolas is so happy too, he has been teaching himself everything about gardening and house keeping and the animals and plant species of the area. We already told all our friends and family to plan their trips to visit us since now we can host them more comfortably and for longer stays!!

I can't wait to be done with the move and start our new town life close to the sea in a beautiful house with friendly people and peace and quiet what the hell!! I never thought I could ever have something like this in my life I'm so serious 😭

[kingkat12]

prom night (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, angst, mature/dark themes, Roman adores reader so much aghhhh<33, fluff, Roman is bad with words lol, blood, mentions of death, attempted kidnapping, amnesia, Dr. Pryce is scary omg, dead dove do not eat tbh, silly bf Roman because why tf not

summary: going to prom with Roman Godfrey had been a dream of yours for longer than you could remember-- but suddenly, that was the only thing you could remember. seriously. what the fuck happened last weekend, and why is Roman keeping you in the dark about it?

word count: 16,708 (oh my fucking god)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13

a/n: celebrating 900 followers (??? WHAT) with the biggest chapter yet!!! I've spent a month preparing it, and this has been the chapter I've been building up to ever since I started this series... I suggest you read it in one sitting because I intended it to be read that way, (although I know that is a lot to ask!!! not necessary boo), and I'm sorry about everything in advance aghhh😭 I would also like to give special thanks to @mentallyscreamingsincebirth for being such a great support and for guiding my brain through this enormous chapter, THANK YOU LYNDI<3 much much love, ENJOY, and read at ur own risk!!!<333 MWAH

Have you ever thought about death? Of course you have, everyone has-- but have you ever felt it?

Have you felt it lingering in your forearms, like you're pressing them up against a flaming stove? Have you felt it pressing at the sides of your head, waiting for it to cave in on itself? I always thought it would feel like going to sleep; that no matter how you pass, you reach a point where your mind flips over into delirium, and then you feel drowsy until it's over. Yet somehow, I was suddenly convinced it was nothing like that. I was sure that it felt like nothing but pure panic, accompanied by a crippling fear unlike any other. Because it hurt, everything hurt, and I was sure I'd be stuck in an endless loop of hell where I would forever be semi-conscious and in excruciating pain. 

And why?

Because right now, I was sure I was dead. 

That I was done. Deceased. Expired. I was so, so sure, and I had no idea why everything was black, why I couldn't move, or why I felt my lungs freeze over with the inability to breathe. 

It lasted for too long. Way too long. An eternity. 

Up until it felt like a scream was being dragged out of me by force, like someone had grabbed hold of my tongue and tugged me forward-- a bright light shone through my lids before they sprung open in pure panic, and I arched off the bed with a shriek. It felt like I was taking my first breaths again, and I clawed at my chest as my nails dug into the fabric of my shirt, suffocating, suffocating, dying, tearing, tearing, panic, panic, why, where, how?--

"Pryce, do something!" 

"Mr. Godfrey, sit down!--"

"Do something!" 

I was still screaming when my hands were pried off my skin with an annoyed groan, still heaving for air as a man in a white coat now hovered over me. He forced my left eye to open wider with his cold, bony fingers, shining the light directly at my pupil. He was searching for any lack of reaction as I emptied my lungs, crying out in fear; it wasn't until I felt the scent of a familiar cologne fill my body that I started to fight my screams of panic. 

I was sure it was Roman who was now pinning my hands down to the bed-- his indexes were pressing against my wrists, checking my pulse, the classic Godfrey move. He usually only did that when he was trying to make a point about him making my heart race, and that's how I was certain it was him.

Once the doctor finished, my cries had largely quieted down. All that was left was a series of whimpers and shaky breaths. "What's happening?" I struggled to ask, my voice cracking. I saw the doctor scowl at Roman, clearly frustrated by something. My lower lip quivered; why was I here? What was happening? 

Why couldn't I remember anything?

When the doctor spoke, he was still not looking at me; "You're at the Godfrey Institute, getting what is considerably the best care in the world," He moved away, tutting as he sat down on the chair opposite the bed I was lying on. Coming to my senses, my eyes traced the room. The walls were painted an uncomfortably bright hue of white, and I was afraid I'd go blind looking at them for too long. However, the doctor's voice caught my attention once more; "You don't seem to be concussed, but I'll check your reflexes. Have you exhausted your lungs, or must I put you under as well? If you keep screaming and resisting, you will only make things harder for yourself."

"She'll be fine!" Roman barked, letting go of my hands. With swift, nervous steps, he now stood by my side as he stroked through my hair. I could sense his anxiety through the slight tremble in his fingers, and he squeezed my shoulder with his free hand as he spoke to the doctor with a lowered voice, as though I wouldn't hear him if he softened his tone; "She will be, right? Pryce?"

Doctor Pryce rolled his eyes as he looked over at the metal tray beside him, scanning the neat display of medical instruments. "Did you bring this girl to me to question my care, or because you trust that I'm the best?"

"I'm!--"

"I was the one that delivered you into the world, Roman, don't forget that. Your mother trusted me with your life, so you have all the reason to exert some patience and trust me with this very simple task," Pryce picked out his preferred instrument and leaned forward, pressing on a button that made the back of my bed raise. 

I yelped, still trying to catch my breath; "What's happening?" I breathed, hoping to contain the wave of tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. It felt like I had died and come back to earth. "Please, why-- why am I here?"

With one final anxious glance at Pryce, Roman finally looked down at me. It was the first time I had been properly acknowledged. "Hey, you," he said, gently running his fingers through my hair. "We were in a car crash, and you passed out. This is Doctor Pryce, and he's just making sure you didn't faint because of anything serious. You could've also lost consciousness because of shock, fear... Many factors. This is just a precaution."

"Car crash?" I echoed. "What-- Why can't I remember?-- Ow!" 

A panicked cry escaped me, and I looked down to see Pryce with what looked like a hammer, striking the supple area beneath my knee socket. My leg jumped up automatically, and the doctor let out a satisfied hum before he moved on to my other leg. "Miss, do you get enough sleep?" he asked. "On the regular, that is?"

I had never been this disoriented in my life. "I don't-- I don't know?"

With an exasperated sigh, Pryce muttered a simple alright. He sat back down in his chair, now gazing at me with a blank, neutral look. Something told me he had practiced that exact expression for his patients. "You seem to have experienced what is called a situational syncope. You must've gone into a deep state of shock, which caused your blood pressure to drop, ultimately knocking you out. Based on the tests we got done on you when you were unconscious, there seems to be nothing wrong with you," 

I forced down a sob as I squeezed my eyes shut. My body was still frozen with panic. Despite my efforts, I couldn't conjure the memory of the supposed car crash; what was happening to me? "There has to be something wrong!" I cried. "I can't-- I can't remember anything!"

Sighing, Pryce got up, but not without glaring at Roman once more. "You might have a minor case of amnesia. It's most likely short-term and will resolve in twenty-four hours, or it might not," He moved to a nearby table, writing down something on a computer. "It might be time to lay off the nocturnal activities, Roman. It's important that she sleeps."

My face had never been redder. Never. To be told to lay off sex in front of your boyfriend's family doctor? Awful. Not something I recommend anyone else go through. 

However, in true Godfrey fashion, Roman didn't seem to care about that part. "Thank fuck," he said, letting out a relieved breath as he bent down to kiss my forehead. I could sense the ease settling in his body, and it made me wonder when it could transmit to mine as well. "So she's completely fine?"

"Yes," Pryce grumbled, absentmindedly tapping away on his keyboard.

"No internal bleeding, no injuries?--"

"She's fine,"

Roman nodded, and I thought that would be the end of it until he spoke again; "Will she remember... everything?"

My blood ran cold. Something about the way he said those words made me feel like it was ominous. I blinked, staring up at Roman as my heart beat hard in my chest. 

Pryce's clacking stilled. He turned, moving sharply, as his eyes narrowed; "For your sake, I hope not,"

It only took me a second to reach for Roman's hand, grabbing it as fear ran through my veins. "Rome," I echoed, begging him to look at me. I needed to know. It didn't feel like a simple car crash; why was I still shaking? Was this normal? I was terrified that I wouldn't remember anything. "Please, you have to-- you have to tell me what!--"

"Shh, it's okay," Roman cooed, wiping that terrified look off his face in an instant. "Everything is fine, see? The nice doctor says you just need to sleep, so what do you say I drop you off at your place and make sure you sleep well tonight?" 

I could hear Pryce snicker as he got up, gathering what he needed from the room. "The nice doctor," he echoed, shaking his head. Everything he did felt oddly sterile. Everything from the smile to the polite tilt of his head. "Sleep would be the best remedy, yes. And maybe some shopping."

Roman scrunched his nose-- "Shopping?"

Pryce nodded, pointing to my shirt which I had partially clawed up. "Shopping,"

I couldn't imagine I would ever get any redder than this. Why couldn't amnesia take this memory too? I wanted to disappear-- however, when I thought about the black void I had been thrust into before I awoke, I changed my mind. I was happier than ever to be alive. When Pryce left the room, I let out a shaky breath as I locked eyes with Roman; "Rome, please tell me how the fuck we ended up in a!--"

My words were stolen as two large hands grabbed my face, and my favorite pair of lips came crashing down onto mine. Roman was now partially on my bed, rushing his kisses as he pulled me close in sheer desperation. "You had me so scared," he breathed. "So, so--"

Grabbing onto Roman's hair for support, I could only yelp as he practically toppled me, kissing me with urgency. "You can't do that," he begged. "You can't, you-- you can't--" 

I was beyond overwhelmed. Exhausted. Still, I could sense that Roman had almost been as scared as me. "Please, Rome!--"

"What would I have done if you got hurt?" He grabbed my face harder, forcing me to look into his teary eyes when he relented his attack on my lips. "It would've killed me. It would've killed me." The desperation, the panic, was evident in his big, green eyes as they searched mine. 

When would this be over? "I don't even know what happened!" I cried. "I don't remember, and it scares me! What if I won't-- won't remember it?" 

I hoped he would tell me. I hoped Roman would sit me down and tell me in excruciating detail. However, his brows came together and drew upwards in a look of pure pity; "It doesn't matter. Look at it like it's mercy,"

"Mercy?" 

"I'm glad you don't remember," Roman breathed, pressing a passionate kiss to my lips before he leaned his forehead against mine. "I don't want you to remember it... I'm kinda glad you don't. You don't need to remember the bad stuff, right? I only want you to be happy. Happy, safe, and with me. Forever."

Forever. 

I let out a shaky breath which fell against Roman's lips, defeated. It still lingered in my body-- death. Like something really, really bad had happened. 

... Had it?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The air smelled like freshly mown grass although it was growing freely all around us, untamed. The long branches of the willow tree kneeling above us swayed with the breeze, and the leaves rustled with a gentle buzz; it was beautiful to look up at, even in the dark of the night. 

Roman was lying next to me, eyes shut in peace that had only recently settled in his body. His chest rose and fell in slow, calm motions as his brown hair wove into the long strands of the grass. I had an inkling that he was getting comfortable with it now-- with the idea of forever. That I was his for as long as he'd have me. That he had someone to go through life with, after all this time finding solace in fleeting moments of intimacy with the girls that were lucky to be near him at the right moment. 

Roman was unbelievably beautiful. Unreal. 

I still had no idea what happened that day I woke up at the Godfrey Institute a week ago, convinced I had died. It was hard not to think about it, but sleep had done me good-- Doctor Pryce had been right. My memory of the incident hadn't returned, and I had a feeling it never would. Every so often, I would get specs of it when I heard a particularly loud car, or whenever the smell of diesel got very strong from Roman's red jag, but that was the end of it.

However, the whole car crash incident had set Roman off into a weird state of possessiveness. Not one night had passed without him sneaking in through my bedroom window, lying next to me to make sure I wasn't on my phone until three a.m., and that I was getting enough sleep. I had watched Roman doze off into slumber countless times, both next to me and on top of me, and I had loved to stroke his hair and watch him sleep every time. It was the only time I felt he ever got to rest properly. Never ever during the day. Which is why, now that Roman was doing the same for me, I started to feel more at peace with what had happened. With the crash. With what I didn't know. As long as I had Roman, I would be fine, right? I was sure of it now.

Not only had the car crash left Roman and I in a weird state, but my parents as well. They were wary of me needing to get enough sleep and rest, so they had given me a rather strict curfew up until prom night. This curfew also involved not having Roman over as much, meaning we had to get creative-- so here we were, lying next to each other in the grass at his secret hiding place around midnight, where we had previously exchanged our blood. 

"Rome," I whispered, watching the swaying willow branch above me. "You put on an alarm, right? I can't be out for too long, I'm scared my parents will find the pillow concoction we put on my bed and know I'm not home..."

He hummed, his eyes remaining closed-- "We have about thirty minutes until I have to take you back. I'm keeping track of it,"

"You don't seem to be keeping track of anything right now,"

"Nonsense,"

"... You look like you're sleeping,"

"But I'm not, am I?" Roman's eyes met mine, his lashes hanging heavy over the green color of his irises. With a tug at the corners of his lips, he sung a short, mocking line; "I don't want to close my eyes!--"

Oh no. "Rome, don't!--"

"-- I don't want to fall asleep, 'cause I miss you, baby!" His laugh was as melodious as his half-assed attempt at serenading me. 

I snorted, no longer sleepy. This was beyond cringe. "You're an idiot,"

"And yet you're crazy about me," Roman purred, moving closer to me on the grass. The tips of his fingers, which had barely grazed mine a minute ago, were now running along the back of my hand in soft motions. "That says more about you than it says about me."

I turned my hand as I smiled to myself, feeling my chest burn with the warmth I got from being near him. If only he knew I was more than crazy about him. If only he knew. "Yeah, you're right," I mumbled, intertwining our fingers with a content sigh. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

I didn't deem my words to be as heavy as Roman suddenly made them seem-- it was as though the leaves stopped rustling. As though the air no longer smelled like grass, and the only thing I could smell was suddenly only Roman's heavy, expensive perfume. Something stilled. Was it the waves of the water nearby? His eyes softened with his next exhale, pupils rounding out. It was almost as though I could see the pounding of his heart as his chest fell. "I don't know how I ever lived without you in the first place," he confessed. "It kills me that you were so close all this time, and... I didn't notice."

Thinking back at the time when Roman would barely look my way was excruciating, even now. "It doesn't matter--"

"We had chemistry together," he breathed. "You were so close." Roman no longer looked at me, and instead turned his gaze to the hanging branches of the willow tree we were lying beneath. "I used to think I was the center of the universe, y'know? That the world was mine, along with everyone living in it. I thought I was everything I ever needed, that no one else truly mattered except for me, but then..." He cleared his throat, an empty look in his eyes. "This is getting cheesy, isn't it?"

Silly, silly boy. "You were literally singing at me a minute ago, I think I can take you being sweet,"

The small upward tug of Roman's lips lifted an ache in my heart. "The past doesn't matter. But the future does, as long as you're in it with me,"

I love you, I love you, I love you. It was echoing in my head. "Grow old with me, Roman?" I hoped it would come off as a joke. I hoped he'd sense the smile in my words, the lightness in which I proposed the hypothetical. 

But he was so serious. So, so serious, as he turned to meet my eyes. And just for a second, I was scared he'd open his mouth and tell me he couldn't get old-- I had read too much of that upir book. "I don't want to get old," he mumbled. "Old people don't have a lot of sex."

It was impossible not to laugh. "They probably do,"

"... Gross,"

Rolling my eyes, I gave his hand a squeeze. "I'd have sex with you. You'd still be the Roman I lo--" 

Fuck.

Oh, fuck. 

I choked my words with a cough; "This damn grass," I cursed. "I might be allergic..." Gathering courage, I glanced over at Roman as I held my breath. 

He seemed to be holding his too. 

It took longer than expected for any of us to say anything. With small movements, Roman slid his hand up to my wrist, pressing his index against my pulse. 

I cleared my throat, breaking out into a nervous laugh. "Okay, let me clear that up. The coughing made it sound like I was saying something that I wasn't saying."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Why was my throat so dry? "I was gonna say that you'd still be the same Roman I long for."

"Oh..." He seemed both relieved and disappointed. I couldn't read him. It was too dark. "Okay. I'll hold you to it when we're eighty, then."

My heart was still racing. Had I gotten away with that or was he letting me? "So you're basically saying you won't be jumping me when we're old? I'm disappointed. And on top of that, I think you'd still be yourself at eighty, no? Or will you no longer be so nympho when you reach a certain age?"

"... You have a point," Roman's classic smirk was back-- I had never been happier to see it. "I'll always want you, I'm afraid."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what,"

"Are you a hundred percent sure about that, Rome?"

"I'll do you one better. Hundred and one,"

It was impossible not to smile. I loved him so much it hurt; I needed to mend it. "... Even if I turn into a worm?"

The groan he let out blended in with the ringing of the alarm he had put on.

As Roman pulled me up from the grass, I realized how much I loved everything about this night. I loved that he wanted to see me so bad that he was sneaking me out of my room. I loved the feeling of my hand in his, loved the sight of his smile, loved every inch of him. I only wished we could stay this happy for an eternity-- an eternity with him would be so unbelievably nice.

And if Roman loved me too, I'd let him love me forever. 

I'd love him till the day I died, tirelessly, endlessly.

... Even if he was a worm.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

There was a lingering warmth in my body, yet I waited for the other thing to leave. The feeling. The doom. The terror I didn't remember.

And while I waited, prom was a wonderful distraction.

My parents were out of town for the weekend, which allowed us to skip the awkward photos in the hallway that were usually customary for prom. I was sure Roman would've rather died than go through that.

Actually, I was half convinced someone else had told Roman to man up and ask me to go with him, because it seemed like I was getting too much of the good thing recently. It didn't make sense to me that he wanted anything to do with something like this. And for a second, I was convinced I had been right about it all along; when I walked down the stairs of my porch, it was impossible not to smile from ear to ear at the sight of Roman in his tux. He was sitting on the bonnet of his car, smoking a cigarette as always-- 

... Without so much as a reaction to me in my dress?

It felt like my whole body was on fire, like I was one of Roman's cigarettes. My smile faltered as I approached, not saying a word. I held my breath, watching the green of his eyes pierce mine. He didn't blink. He didn't budge. He simply held his cigarette to his lips, exhaling the smoke through his nose. 

Something felt off. I should've known Roman Godfrey wasn't the classic prom-man. "Do you not like it?" I breathed, feeling my confidence collapse as I toyed with the fabric of my dress.

Roman's eyes immediately darted down to my fingers-- "Don't tear at it. I know you like doing that," He held out his cigarette as he scanned me. It took a few seconds too long. With quick steps, he got off of his car; "Get in."

What? "No,"

Roman turned to me, cocking a brow. "No?"

"No," This was nerve-wracking. "You're being weird. Tell me what's wrong, or I turn around and go right back in again."

Visibly taken aback, Roman let his cigarette fall to the ground before he pressed his heel to it. In our moments of intense eye-contact and silence, I could see the way he had styled his hair differently tonight. It wasn't slicked back or messy, which were the two alternatives he always alternated between-- no, it looked like he had put effort into giving it a bit more volume, like something out of an old Hollywood film with James Dean as the lead. I couldn't understand him, where he stood in front of me in his ridiculously expensive tuxedo; it was obvious that he cared about this, so what was happening here?

"Nothing is wrong," Roman finally answered. "I just don't have the words."

"Words for what? What's going on?"

"Nothing is going on," he muttered under his breath. "It just makes me feel stupid."

"What does, Rome?" 

"I... have never been good at finding the right words. I always screw these things up," Frustrated, Roman put his hands in his pockets as he no longer met my gaze. "Saying you look good doesn't feel like enough... and telling you that you look beautiful feels weird, because I don't use that word for anything and that makes it sound rehearsed, so... I'm screwed. I'm looking at you, and I'm blanking. My heart is beating too fast."

Oh.

Oh.

"Take your time," was all I managed to say. I love you regardless was the thing I would have loved to add. 

Roman chewed on his lip, sitting down on the bonnet of his car again. He dared to meet my eyes as he reached for my hand; I took it, ready to take a step forward, before I caught Roman shaking his head. "You'd help me if you did a twirl," he said, a smirk nudging at the corners of his mouth. "Come on, now."

My heart lightened with the giggle that escaped me, and I could only blush as I did as told. 

"There you go," Roman cooed, warmth dotting his cheeks when I faced him again. "I like your dress. You kinda look like a cupcake."

"What? I do not! This is a-line!"

"A what line?"

"No, it's!-- Oh, forget it," Men.

Roman laughed, reaching for my waist to pull me in between his long legs. Softening his grin, he glanced down at my dress; had I not been watching him so intently, I wouldn't have caught the way his eyes subtly rounded out when they met mine. "I never realized how unfair it is,"

I frowned; "What's unfair?"

"You. Looking like this. Making every other girl on the planet look like an afterthought," Roman paused, his smirk softening with something genuine; "And it's not just tonight, y'know? It's everything about you. It's the way you laugh, it's the way you think, it's all that is you, along with how you look at me like I'm not completely messed up. You're just perfect." Roman stilled, his thumbs rubbing circles into the fabric around my waist as his smile turned self-conscious. "Sorry, that probably sounds cheesy as hell... What the fuck is up with me these days?"

If only he knew. If only he saw that I was fighting the welling of tears in my eyes. I love you, I love you, I love you. "As long as you don't start singing again, I'll be fine,"

Roman's smile was soft, and so was the kiss he gently pressed to my collarbone. Everything about the way he was holding me made me blush. "Come on," Roman cooed, a mischievous look shimmering in his eyes. "I can't wait to arrive with the prettiest girl in town. Everyone's gonna hate us even more than they already do, and I need the fuel of their spite and fear to survive."

I rolled my eyes, muffling my laugh against the following kiss. "Okay, Pennywise. Just keep the carnage to a minimum tonight, alright?"

"Deal,"

Just as Roman was about to lean in to kiss me, I remembered something important-- I grabbed his shoulders, watching his eyes widen as I pinned him to his place. "And we need to keep you far away from Brooke Bluebell tonight, by the way,"

"Uh, not that she was on the agenda, but... why?"

"Rumour says she's bought a needle. For revenge, and all,"

Roman let out a laugh of disbelief before it dawned on him that I wasn't joking. "Oh," he breathed, frowning. "Seems like there might be some carnage after all, then."

"No, that's not funny!--"

"Come on, it kinda is!"

"Roman-- ugh, fuck it, let's just go!" I placed a soft kiss to his lips; "Don't say I didn't warn you."

After more back and forth banter, it was finally time to get going. However, as Roman opened the car door for me and I sat down in the seat, I was hit with a major deja vu when he started checking out his hair in the rearview mirror. I knew that he did that every time before starting the car, this wasn't something out of the ordinary-- but for the first time since the incident, I remembered something clearly. 

I remembered just a fragment. A feeling. I had been upset the day of the crash, and so had Roman. Had we fought? 

It was at the tip of my tongue, there was a faint taste of exactly what had happened, and I was about to roll right into the memory when Roman put his hand on my thigh. I looked over at him, my breath high in my chest; he noticed it immediately. "You okay?" he tried.

It was lingering in my forearms, like I was pressing them up against a flaming stove. It pressed at the sides of my head, waiting for it to cave in on itself; death. It felt like a countdown.

Counting down.

Tick.

Tick tick.

I will know soon.

I put my burning hand over Roman's, forcing a smile;

"Never been better," ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Walking around at prom, hand in hand with Roman Godfrey as he talked to a couple of his friends, was only something I had imagined in my wildest dreams. I used to bury my face in my pillow and blush just at the thought of him even looking at me.

Back in those days, I had a specific image in my mind; since I hadn't ever thought I would go to prom with Roman, I imagined I'd be there with someone like Daniel. Someone I didn't like. I don't know, it wasn't too important. However, my date would be the type to not want to dance, and I would be left sitting with him by some table while everyone danced. And this would (of course) be the point where I'd imagine Roman walking up to me, charming, cocky, and high on his sky-high self-esteem, to reach for my hand. He'd ask if I'd like to dance, and I would glare at my date before giving Roman an affirmative yes.

Then we'd dance. Slow. Close. 

And in my dreams, Roman would look me in the eyes and tell me that he had loved me all along, that he would love me and only me for the rest of his life, that he had secretly been pining for me since the day he first saw me, that he was actually planning to propose right now actually, and then the whole prom would stop and gasp in jealousy as he got down on one knee, and then!--

I bit down on my lip, suppressing a laugh at the memory. It seemed so childish, now more than ever. I told myself to excuse my old, stupid daydreams; the mind wanders when you're crazy about someone.

Roman squeezed my hand; "What are you laughing about?"

Fuck. "Oh, just..." I glanced up at him, smiling uncontrollably. Alas, now that Roman was my boyfriend, I didn't need all of that ridiculous stuff. I only needed him by my side, and that'd be enough for me forever. "I just remembered something stupid."

Roman cocked a brow, the green of his eyes shining down on me despite the darkness of the room. "Keen on sharing?"

"Not so much,"

"Alright," he said, tsking. "Pervert."

"Hey!" My cheeks turned a peculiar shade of pink which I hoped wasn't visible beneath the dim lights. Why did he have to say stuff like that while standing next to his friends? Not that they were listening, anyway. Nonetheless, the cheeky look on Roman's face told me everything I needed to know about it. "It's nothing like that!" I tried. "It was actually kind of sweet..."

"Oh, yeah?" Nodding, Roman's hand went to the small of my back, excusing us before he started leading us away from his circle of friends. "Tell me, then."

"It's stupid!" I giggled, my blush deepening with the kiss he pressed to the top of my head as we walked. Giant man. 

Roman rolled his eyes; "Tell me before I spike the punch and get us kicked out," We had now reached the other side of the room, and he turned me around to press my back against the wall. Like this, he was towering over me as always. Just the sight of it made my heart beat harder. 

"It should be illegal," I muttered under my breath, reaching for his tie. Sweet-talking him would hopefully be distraction enough. "You in a suit--"

"Tux,"

"Tux," I didn't want to tell him about my childish dreams about prom. I was aware how stupid it sounded, anyway. I didn't need to give Roman more things to tease me about, did I? "You're very, very handsome."

"Aha," he hummed, unimpressed. "How long would my sentence to be, then?"

"If it was illegal?"

"If it was illegal,"

"Hmm... I was thinking six years and nine months."

Roman bit down on a grin. "Do I spot a subtle sixty-nine reference?"

Yes. "Pervert,"

We shared a laugh as my hands slid down his tie, but my brows drew together when I felt something hard between the top and second button of his shirt. My mind flared red lights-- "Is this what I think it is?" I asked, gazing up at Roman as my eyes rounded out. 

He didn't seem to understand my reaction. "I always wear it," he said, shrugging. "Didn't want to take it off."

"Ah," I suppose it was sweet. That's all it was. It most certainly didn't remind me of my least favorite passage from The Avoidable Vampirism - The Upir;

There are even some upirs that are so assimilated, they can do experiments with blood or carry vials of it with them wherever they go— which is an inclination that should not be encouraged.

Should not be encouraged.

Should not be encouraged.

... Certainly not. 

"I like feeling you close," Roman murmured, his long fingers now running past my waist as the sound of his voice pulled me back into the moment. "I don't like being apart from you, and having your blood with me at all times... feels like I'm carrying a piece of you, which I technically am." He bent down, his soft lips brushing against my ear-- it made my breath hitch. "What do you say we get as close as we can later tonight?" he whispered, a small kiss to my ear following. "Just you and me... And me in you?"

I could only smile. Especially as I spotted Brooke Bluebell and her cheerleader friends by the punch a little further away from us. I was sure my smile started to look rather sinister as my hand went into Roman's hair, pulling him closer as my eyes locked on Brooke's. 

Fucking cheerleader whore. I hated her. I hated everything she represented. And honestly? I couldn't quite remember why. All I knew, was that seeing the jealous look on her face made my heart race with pride and joy.

... Something told me that Roman and I deserved each other. We were both evil in our own ways. 

"That sounds perfect," I purred, leaning my head against the wall as Roman pressed soft kisses to my neck. "My parents aren't home, so..." I could feel him smiling against my skin at the reminder. It was such an exhilarating feeling. Especially when I knew Brooke was watching. 

"Great," Roman murmured, pulling away to look down at me with a mischievous look shimmering in his green eyes. "Can't wait to fold you and hear you whimper."

My blush deepened in record time; "Pervert,"

Roman only grinned. I was sure he was gonna say something much, much worse, something that would've made my toes curl on the spot if they weren't currently pressed against the front of my slightly uncomfortable heels, if one of the prom chaperones hadn't started walking towards us with hasty steps and a grumpy look on his face. It hit me that we were probably standing too close for his liking, and that he was there to make sure the students were being appropriate, which... let's face it, we weren't. 

I shook my head with panic as Roman opened his mouth to speak, and he seemed to catch onto what was happening rather quickly. With a quick nod, he took a long step away from me and held his hands up with a cheeky grin as the strict-looking chaperone approached. "Yes, officer?"

The chaperone sighed, passing fed-up glances between the two of us. I wondered where I had seen this man before. He was certainly someone's father who I had seen around drop-off hours. "I'm not the police," he grumbled. "You can put your hands down, Godfrey--"

"I invoke the fourth amendment!" Roman chimed in, winking at me. It was impossible not to smile.

The chaperone proceeded to groan, shaking his head; "Just-- no touching, okay?"

"Of... anything?"

"You can hold her hand, Godfrey, but anything else--"

"Oh, so it applies to things like... if I touch the wall?" Comically slow, Roman pressed his finger to the wall, hissing as though he was being burned by the law. "I'm a man of many crimes, as you see, officer!" He lowered his voice to a whisper; "I even touched the punch earlier! Actually, now that I think about it, I think I deserve to be kicked out... Can't believe I have allowed myself to commit such atrocities." With one last pout, Roman held his hands out to the chaperone, bowing his head in defeat. "Take me, oh, lead me away, kind sir! I will serve my time, and I will do my due diligence!--"

"Enough!" The chaperone barked. "As long as you didn't spike the goddamn punch, you're free to go!"

And with that, Roman's gig was up. He bit down hard on his lip to suppress his smirk, not to great success. "I wouldn't dare to, officer," he cooed, reaching for my hand in the smoothest manner known to man. 

The chaperone rolled his eyes, probably rethinking all his life choices, as Roman led me away with the both of us trying not to topple over from the laughter we were suppressing. 

"You're crazy," I said, squeezing his hand. I was worried my eyes had formed hearts. 

Roman shrugged, glancing down at me with a knowing smile. "And you're crazy about me," he murmured. "But, speaking of crazy..." He raised our hands, making me do a little twirl as I giggled. When I faced him again, Roman wrapped his arms around me as he glanced over at the punch not too far away from us; "What do you say actually spike it?"

"... What?" 

"It could be smart," he purred, swaying with me a little on the dance floor. "Brooke and her girls have been drinking it all night, and they just walked away... Maybe if they all get drunk off their asses when they come back, they won't be able to take their needle-revenge on me?" 

Roman was right. We had kept a bit of an eye on them all night, just to make sure they were at a safe distance at all times. It was a fun game, if I were to be honest, but... Roman was right. It was an unusual occurrence that he was, so I couldn't help but smile as I felt myself get convinced. 

"Fuck it,"

What ensued, were three nerve-wracking minutes at the table with the large punch-bowl. I stood in front of Roman, blocking the view of any possible chaperones as he skillfully got a silver flask out of the pocket of his jacket, and we spent a good amount of time positioning ourselves to make it all look casual, as though we weren't pouring straight vodka into the punch. Why Roman had any on him in the first place was a conversation for another time.

The second we saw Brooke and the cheerleaders approaching again, I felt my breath hitch-- had we made it or were we about to get caught?

However, Roman's timing was impeccable. With a smooth slither of his hand down to mine, he pulled me back to the dance floor, as though it was the most natural thing in the world to be escaping the scene of the crime at this pace. 

And suddenly, it felt like I had entered that silly dream of mine. Cause now, we were dancing. Slow. Close. The remnants of our silly escapade were visible across our lips, corners pulling up into knowing smiles as we held each other close. Roman's cologne was alluring as always, and so were his big, green eyes; I could see everything now. The scar on his right cheek, the way his pupils practically pulsated at the sight of me, the way he was drinking me in, the beautiful upturn of his nose, all to the way his warm breath fell against my cheek.

Roman's long, slender fingers intertwined with mine as his other hand rested at the small of my back; it was perfect. Better than I could've ever imagined it. It was intoxicating. Deadly, in the best of ways. 

If I were to say anything, now would be the moment. If I were to say the words that I had longed to say, now was the time. All I could hear was the sweet sound of Roman's breath, the dimmed shuffling of the tulle of my dress, and the mellow remnants of the slow song playing in the background. "Rome," I breathed. "There's something I need to tell you." My heart had never beat harder in my life, I was sure of it now.

I was sure of it.

Roman let out a short hum, lovingly nudging his nose against mine. "I need to tell you something too,"

The more I thought about the beating of my heart, the more I was sure it was going to beat its way up my throat. "Yeah?" I tried. Breathless. Breathless. 

"Yeah," Roman closed his eyes, gently pulling me closer. "But this might not be the place to tell you."

"I beg to differ," Something told me all my dreams were coming true in one go. If he was gonna say what I thought he was gonna say-- "There might never be a better moment than right here, right now." Please. Please. I wanted to beg him to say it first, if he wanted to say those three words at all. 

It felt like the air was a tissue. A tissue falling into me, which was pulled out with Roman's next intake of air. Every breath felt sharp, yet exhilarating, yet draining, yet filling, yet emptying.

"Not here," he whispered. "You'd have a heart attack."

It felt like I was about to have one anyway. "I doubt it," God, I was about to spill, wasn't I? "What if I go first?"

Roman's brows drew together as he pulled away just a centimeter or two, looking more confused than ever. "What?"

My mouth pulled into a line. Was I reading this wrong or was this one of those situations where I just had to grow a pair of balls on the spot and walk on the burning charcoal? "Like... if you're saying what I think you want to say?"

"And what do you think I want to say?"

"... Uhm," It hit me that my mouth had never been drier. Could I do this? Should I do this? "The... thing?"

"What thing?"

"That you, y'know... That you--"

"That I what?" Roman's words were insistent, rushed. It almost scared me into silence. "Baby?"

My lower lip trembled as I gathered the courage to let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. This was my sign to retreat. With a defeated sigh, my eyes shied away from his as my cheeks burned. "Forget it,"

"But..." Roman looked beyond lost. "Okay, I feel like I'm messing things up here. Let's start again."

"Start again?--"

"Start again," he insisted, his green eyes burning into mine as I dared to meet them again. "You were gonna tell me something."

Fuck no. Now, I was sure that'd be a fate worse than death. "I-- I don't know, I'm a little lost now, could we just forget?--"

My nervous ramble was interrupted by a loud groan from Roman. At first, my eyes widened at his weird reaction to me stumbling over my words, all until I realized his phone was vibrating in his pocket. Thankfully, the song in the background wasn't so quiet and slow anymore, and nobody around us seemed to mind. "I'm so sorry," he breathed, letting go of my hand to fish out his phone. "This is fucking ridiculous, who in their right mind is calling at this time of night?!--" 

Roman's anger came to a halt as he saw who was calling him. I was praying to all the Gods I could think of at the moment that it wasn't Letha. 

"It's Peter," he said, eyes rounding out. "I haven't gotten a hold of him in a while, I-- will you kill me if I take this?"

I let out a sigh. Typical. I suppose some things simply remain a dream. "No problem," My ass. 

"I'm sorry," Roman tried, placing two fingers beneath my chin to tilt my head up, placing an apologetic kiss to my lips. It was quick, hurried-- something told me I'd remember it. "I will be right back, and then you're gonna tell me that thing, okay? I'm dying to know. Dying."

"Sure," 

"Just-- meet me by the door leading to the hallway, okay? Not the exit, not the one leading outside, but the--"

"Hallway, yeah. I got it,"

The look on Roman's face told me he was genuinely sorry. That was a consolation, at least. "We're gonna talk, I promise. I really need to tell you what I wanted to say,"

I swear, if he ended up telling me he was getting a new car instead of telling me he was in love with me, I'd wack him with the first heavy purse I'd find. "Go, Rome,"

Roman disappeared from the crowd rather quickly, making his way outside with hurried steps, leaving me alone and frustrated on the dance floor. Muttering curse words under my breath, I waddled to the door leading to the hallway, leaning against the wall next to it with a disappointed sigh. The momentum of that whole conversation had left me a bit of a panting mess, and my heart had yet to slow down. I wondered how I was supposed to get out of telling him that I loved him. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl!

However, as I scoured my brain for something else to say, I felt the familiar smell of overly-sweet perfume fill my nostrils.

I stiffened in fear. 

Oh no.

My mouth dried in record time as Daniel approached me, his stride calm and calculated. It was odd to see him out of his blue varsity jacket, yet he hadn't disappointed; his tux was blue too. The more I kept thinking about the color blue, the more I thought about the ocean, and the more I thought about the ocean, the more clearly I saw myself holding Daniel's head underwater until he drowned. 

Daniel's smirk was nastier than ever. I couldn't believe I ever thought it was cute. "There you are," he purred, getting too close for my comfort. "You look like you're having the time of your life, as always."

I snorted. "Well, what do you expect of a brainless slut, as you so poetically called me? You've always had a way with words,"

"Damn," Daniel mumbled, pulling his hands into his pockets as he chuckled. "Did I really say that?"

"Yep," Asshole.

He nodded; "Ah... It seems you remember that night more than I do, then," Daniel's perfume had now infiltrated both my nose and my will to live. If only I could melt into a puddle on the floor and become immaterial-- that would've been mercy enough. 

"I bet you haven't come here to apologize, am I correct?" I asked. 

Daniel shrugged, amused. "I was actually coming here to ask you for an apology,"

"Me?! For what?" He never failed to say outrageous things, I could give him credit for that much. 

However, Daniel seemed taken aback by my response. "Are you really going to act like nothing happened?" 

"What?! Are you talking about you and I those thousands of years ago?--"

"No," Daniel's face fell. "I'm talking about what happened last weekend." 

Something was awfully wrong. My intuition made the hair at the back of my neck stand up to the sky, and I realized I was pressing myself up against the wall. "Last weekend?" I mumbled. What did I do last weekend? I couldn't remember. All I could remember from last weekend was waking up at the Godfrey Institute because of the car crash--

Wait.

Daniel took a step forward; "I've been waiting for you to get away from that boyfriend of yours for a while," he said, his words low and threatening. "Cause you and I are gonna go have a little talk, aren't we?"

"About what?" My voice came out frail, scared, as my breath continued to catch in my throat. For a second, my attention darted to the person coming out through the door to the hallway, and it reminded me that I was in a room filled with people. Roman was coming back any time now, too. Nothing could happen to me. "I don't know what you're--" 

And then it happened. Daniel stepped forward with speed I didn't know he had in him, and he jammed his foot between the door as he grabbed me with strength I couldn't fight. He clasped his hand over my mouth as I tried to fight him off, yet to no avail-- it didn't take many seconds before he managed to get me through the door, dragging me down the hallway and away from the party. 

I let out a cry against Daniel's palm as my heart raced. Biting him didn't work, as my teeth barely grazed his skin-- I tried to dig my nails into him, yet I didn't manage to reach any exposed skin. The grip he had around me was crushing, and I knew my ribs would ache for days to come. 

"We're gonna have a real nice talk," Daniel hissed into my ear. It was disgusting to have him so near, repulsing. His breath was unsteady as he spat his words, yet there was an exhilarated tone to his voice, like he was getting the biggest kick in the world out of this. "And I'm gonna let you go in one piece if you stop-- stop resisting!" 

Daniel managed to drag me down the hall and around the corner before he threw me down. I hit the ground with a hard thud, wincing as I tried to get up with my heart threatening to beat out of my ears. However, Daniel bent down and grabbed a fistful of my hair, twisting me to look at him as I cried out in pain, eyes watery with tears as I met his angry blue eyes. I tried to drive my nails into his hand, yet he only tightened his fist in my hair-- the pain was blinding. 

"Your spoiled brat of a boyfriend won't even pay for the damages," Daniel hissed in my face. His breath was warm, but in the most unpleasant way; it made me squirm as a tear spilled down my cheek. "Not a cent! The fucking Godfrey lawyers are blocking everything my family could've ever gotten as a compensation!"

I didn't manage to kick him away, no matter how hard I tried. "For a car?!" I yelled. "For a fucking car, Daniel?! Let me go!--"

"It's not about the car!" Daniel shouted, a few drops of spit landing on my face as I grimaced. "It's about the person driving it, you psycho!" 

"I don't-- Fuck!" It was impossible not to curse at the agony. It didn't help that he was now dragging my head backwards, making me wonder whether he'd snap my neck. Would he? Would he actually? "I don't remember anything! I don't-- I don't fucking know! Were you in it?!"

This only seemed to anger him further, and Daniel proceeded to bend down next to me to properly get up in my face. I wondered whether he saw how clumpy my mascara was getting from the heavy tears weighing down on my lashes. I wondered whether he perhaps was hard right now from staring at the terrified look on my face. I wondered if he'd be sadistic enough to shove his dick down my throat if he was. These thoughts only made me panic more, yet I felt my body going limp from the pain; my hands were still fighting. I was still trying. There was no way I'd give up, but it also felt like there was no way for me to win.

"Not a single thing?" Daniel hissed, fury burning in his eyes. "You don't remember how you and your prick boyfriend left my father bleeding in his car? You don't remember how he swerved off the road and got the front of his car completely smashed in?!"

The more I tried to conjure the image, the more the feeling of all-taking panic and dread infiltrated my veins. I tried to claw his hands out of my hair, my nails digging into his skin, suffocating, suffocating, dying, tearing, tearing, panic, panic, why, where, how?--

My current state unlocked the one I had been in on the day of the crash. 

And with the panic, I remembered everything. 

Tick. 

Tick tick.

I could almost hear Roman's voice. 

Tick tick tick.

Right now, I was there.

I was living through it again.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The sun was blinding, although the air was cold. I hurried down the steps of the school that day, running to Roman.

"Where were you?"

I was confused. "I was just!--"

"I've been waiting here for, like, ten minutes!" Roman hissed, getting up from the bonnet of his car. He was in the middle of what I could only call a fit of fury, and his hands were flying as he marched towards me with heavy, angry steps; "Get in the fucking car!" He grabbed a hold of my arm, forcefully pulling me toward him.

I let out a squeal of shock, yet I didn't resist. It was impossible not to jump when he put me in the passenger seat and slammed the door behind me. "What the hell, Roman? What's gotten into you today?!" 

When he got in the driver's seat, he didn't waste any time turning the engine on. "I don't like you lingering in math class," he grumbled, fixing his hair in the rearview mirror. Typical. If Roman had been a woman, he'd have been the type to get extensions and acrylic nails; I was sure of it, with how obsessed he was with his looks. "I don't need you fraternizing any more with the enemy than you already have."

"The enemy?-- Are we talking about Letha?!"

"Yes!" he barked, driving out of the school parking lot with a little too much speed. Had he not been the son of Olivia Godfrey, I was convinced he'd have about a dozen parking tickets for this type of driving. 

"Roman, are you serious right now?!"

"Dead serious,"

"You're being crazy!"

That was it for Roman, who immediately started yelling; "Don't fucking talk to me about crazy! You wanna see real crazy?! Let me crash the car and laugh as we bleed out on the side of the road, then you'll see that I'm acting more than reasonably!"

Instinctively, I reached for the handle of the car door. My breath was stuck in a loop in my chest, too thick to pass my trachea. "Please stop shouting," I echoed. "You're scaring me."

Roman's ears were red with anger. I used to think it was a cute trait of his, all until he threatened to kill us both in this vehicle. However, at the frail sound of my voice, he glanced at me for a second or two as he leaned one arm on the rolled-down car window; his big, green eyes rounded out with the realization, with the weight of his words. "I'm not--" He cleared his throat, returning his gaze to the road. "I'm not being serious. I wouldn't actually do that, you know me."

I could see the guilt settling in the lines of his brows coming together, yet my breath had yet to escape me; it was hard to think while being suffocated. "Stop the car,"

"Baby, I'm about to get on the highway!--"

"-- Stop the fucking car!"

Roman's anger returned as he struck the steering wheel, ignoring the way I jumped; "Fine!" With the speed he was driving at, it didn't take long before he managed to park by the road. He turned to me with a fed-up look in his eyes, one that brought my blood to a boil. It only got worse with the next words rolling off his tongue; "Christ, woman, what is it?" 

For the first time in my life, I hoped I'd get superpowers and lazer-blast his stupid head off. Watch it blow and fly away in chunks, with his blood splattering all over the car. I bet it was the same dark-red color as his beloved Jaguar. Without saying a word, knowing I'd only spew profanities at him if I stayed, I made my way out of the car despite there not being a walkable road in sight.

"Hey-- Come on!" Roman yelled, watching as I started walking away on the side of the road. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

I shivered with the incoming breeze. "Far away from you!" Pissed out of my mind, I wrapped myself tightly in my jacket and ignored the sight of a car passing by me at full speed. 

Roman got out of the car with haste, following me with urgency in his steps. "I'm not gonna drive us into a tree, I was just trying to make a point!" he yelled, dragging his hands through his hair to make sure his hairstyle was preserved in the wind. "Baby, please, come back here!--"

"It's not about that!" I yelled back, turning around to face him. Now, there were only a couple of meters between us as we gazed at each other, one with remorse, one with fury. "You say that you trust me, and then you explode when I come back a few minutes late from my class with Letha!"

"Well, of course I'm!--"

"No!" I barked, clenching my fists. "You've been acting so damn weird ever since the day we exchanged the ancient blood capsules, or whatever the fuck they are! You're being erratic! Are you still on cocaine, maybe? Have you relapsed?"

Roman's mouth opened and closed, offended. "I'm not on drugs!" he shouted, flailing his hands to make his point. "I'm not crazy!" 

"Rome, you can tell me!" It felt as though my heart was beating out of my chest, and I pressed my hands to the thumping motions of it. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes; this whole week with Roman had been so weird, intense, and it had all come down to this. All this pain, all these emotions. "I'm your girlfriend, I care about you more than anything else in the world, you can tell me if you're back to!--"

"I'm not on drugs! I'm not crazy!" He was chanting it to himself now. 

"I can get you the help you need, Rome, please!--"

"I'm not!" With the last boom of his voice, Roman seemed to grow taller on the spot. I was sure I was imagining the way his pupils dilated, the way his jaw twitched, and how he genuinely seemed to be growing an inch or two on the spot, as though he was about to pounce on me. 

Was I maybe tired? That had to be it. After math class, my brain was always fried, anyway. Nonetheless, my breath hitched in my chest as I took a step back in blinding fear-- yet what I thought was a step back, was more of a step to the left. I didn't have much control over my body as my hands trembled, paralyzed at the sight before me. Roman didn't look like himself. It was him, I was sure it was the man I loved, yet something was so terribly off. 

I hadn't realized I was standing in the road.

I was frozen to my spot.

I couldn't move. 

And as the sound of a car honking repeatedly hit my ears, I saw nothing but the way Roman's pupils shrunk in an instant. Sheer panic filled his eyes. I barely registered how he got to me, but it took him less than a second when it should've taken him at least three. 

Roman was too late, yet exactly on time-- it felt like a breeze wrapped itself around me with the swiftness of light, and before I knew it, I screamed as I was lifted off the ground and swept up in his arms. Too scared to register where we were, I only felt the prickling of grass in my hair as I soon heard a crash, a bang, and an alarm going off. 

I held onto Roman's strong body for dear life as my high-pitched screams refused to subside, and tears welled up in my eyes which were squeezed shut in fear. He had wrapped himself around me in a protective hold and made sure I had landed on top of him in the grass by the road, a little too far from where we should've naturally landed, and Roman clutched onto the fabric of my jacket as he tried to shake me out of my shock. 

It didn't work. My throat was getting sore, and I was trembling like a wet, abandoned kitten. 

"Are you hurt?" Roman called out. "Hey, are you hurt?!"

With my next sob, the words came rushing out; "N-No!" 

He let out a sigh of relief as he pressed me tighter to his chest, now stroking the back of my head and kissing my teary cheeks. "You're alright. It's okay, I'm here, you're alright," he cooed, gently rolling me down to the grass beside him. 

I didn't want to let him go. I held onto his hair like a newborn, sobbing. "I'm sorry! I-I'm so, so-- so sorry!--"

"Shh, it's okay," Roman kissed my lips which were salty with tears. "It's not your fault, it's okay. Try to breathe, alright?"

I would've stayed like that, horrified and shell-shocked at our near meet with death, had I not heard pained groans in the distance. I dared to open my eyes, and immediately saw the cloud of smoke coming from the car with the peeping noise. There was a man groaning in pain, and his body was splayed over the steering wheel. And just as I didn't think it could get any worse, I saw the indent of a footprint in the car door-- 

My shaking subsided as I rose from the grass, sitting up in a zombie-like state. My eyes refused to leave the image before me. 

Had Roman... kicked the car away?

Had he kicked a car coming our way at about a hundred kilometers an hour?

Before I could ponder it any longer, Roman grabbed my chin with the gentlest touch known to man and turned me to him. He didn't have a single scratch on him. Shouldn't he be gasping in pain at the blow of landing on his back with me on top of him? His eyes were round, worried, as he scanned me for any injuries. "How does your head feel? Are you dizzy? You didn't hit your head, did you?"

"No," I breathed. "Roman, the car--"

"Fuck that for a second, do I need to take you to a hospital?" The look in his eyes quickly went from worried to crazed, like he was angry that I was choosing to have sympathy for the person in the car instead of caring about myself first. 

I blinked. Once. Twice. "Roman?"

"Yes?"

"The guy in there might be dead. Or dying," 

"I know," he echoed. "But he might also be bleeding."

"Exactly," With shaky steps, I tried to raise myself to the ground. The beeping of the car was driving me mad with guilt and worry. "He might be bleeding, so we need to--"

"Call an ambulance, I know," 

"No, we need to check if he's!--"

"Bleeding? Dying? Yeah, I can't," Roman grabbed my hand, forcing me to look into his eyes. They were round with a look I hadn't seen before, like he was trying to convey something I'd hopefully understand. "I shouldn't go near it when it's that much fresh blood." He squeezed my fingers before he brought them to his lips, kissing my knuckles. "And you're about to faint."

"... What?" 

"You have about five seconds,"

"How do you?--"

"I'm not crazy," Roman said, an end statement. "I'll make sure you won't remember most of this, but trust me. I'll take care of it."

The worst thing was that he was right. I couldn't do anything to stop it when I started seeing white spots, and I let out a panicked yell. It felt like my head was caving into itself; that was a feeling that would stay with me. I covered my ears before I realized I couldn't feel my toes, and just as I went down, Roman went up to catch me in his arms.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

And as I faded out of the memory, it took longer than expected to snap out of it.

I was done.

Done.

I was so, so sure, and I had no idea why everything was black, why I couldn't move, why I felt my lungs freeze over with the inability to breathe.

It lasted for too long. Way too long. An eternity. 

Again.

Up until it felt like a scream was being dragged out of me by force, again, like someone had grabbed a hold of my tongue and tugged me forward, again-- the bright lights of the school hallway shone through my lids before they sprung open in pure panic, and I arched off the ground with a gasp for air.

It felt like I was taking my first breaths again, or like I had been drowning, all over again. I clawed at my hands, my nails digging into the fabric of my dress, suffocating, suffocating, dying, tearing, tearing, panic, panic, why, where, how, again?—

There was a release. I no longer felt like my neck was about to snap, and there was no longer pressure on my scalp as I was released from Daniel's grip on my hair. My body fell limp against the floor as I heard a loud thud to my right along with a shrill cry of pain. 

As I slowly came back to my senses, I realized that Daniel was being repeatedly punched against the lockers by none other than Roman Godfrey. There was no way for him to fight off the repeated attacks, no way at all, as Roman's fist landed blow after blow with no mercy.

"Rome," I wheezed, coughing and wincing as I tried to get up from the floor. I barely had any power in my body anymore-- it didn't work.

The sound of his nickname had Roman letting go of Daniel in an instant, who fell limp to the floor with a cry of pain. Roman looked completely out of it; his green eyes were wild with fury, worry, and an untameable thirst for revenge. I hadn't seen him like this before, so possessed. 

He opened his mouth to say something, yet Daniel let out a wail; "He can't even walk anymore, Godfrey! You fuckers left my father in a coma, and when he woke up, he was fucking paralyzed from the neck down!" 

My head was pounding. This couldn't be true. This was a nightmare.

"You ruined his life!" Daniel yelled, tears spilling down his cheeks as he tried to get up. "And you ruined mine! You took my father from me, and he will never be the same again!"

Roman took several deep breaths. It was clear that he wanted to beat Daniel to a pulp, yet he was holding back. "You think I wanted any of that?" he tried, balling his fists. "Accidents happen all the fucking time!--"

"He says you kicked the car!" Daniel shouted. His voice was shaking. Profusely. It dawned on me how scared he truly looked. "That you-- you kicked it off the road!"

Roman's fists remained clenched. "Did you maybe have too much of the punch?" he asked, attempting to incorporate a calm tone. "You can't possibly be hearing yourself now, Goldman. Explain how I'm supposed to have kicked away a car coming at me at full speed?"

Daniel's lower lip trembled as it caught a few of his tears. "Everyone knows something's wrong with you, Godfrey. It's just a matter of time until someone figures out your secret," A beat. A snarl. "You're a freak."

There was a long pause. Roman was so furious that he could only glare. I could see the way his jaw clenched and how his hands were now balled so tightly they were shaking. 

Daniel caught onto it. Despite looking scared out of his mind, tears still staining his cheeks, he conjured a victorious smile which only confused me further. "You gonna hit me again? You gonna beat me to a pulp in front of your girl?" He nodded towards me, a mocking laugh following as his eyes shone with evil glee.

Roman's eye twitched. I held my breath. 

"You think she'll stay with you once she knows what you're capable of? You think she'll still be yours?" Daniel wiped his nose, staring up at Roman through his brows with his vicious eyes. "You and I are one and the same. The way she looks at me, the hate, the disgust? You're going to know exactly how I feel."

"No," Roman hissed, breathless. "I'm nothing like you," 

"Oh yeah? Do you really believe that?" 

"You're scum!--"

"And you're a fucking sadist, just like me!" Daniel didn't even try to wipe the grin off his beaten face. He simply sighed as he rested his head against the lockers, closing his eyes as though he was reliving his best day; "Bet you would've killed to see the look she had in her eyes when I nearly snapped her neck in half, just before you came... The tears, the fear. She has these pretty whimpers when she's in pain, y'know?" Daniel opened his eyes, staring up at Roman through his brows. "Are you going to let me get away with that?"

I couldn't stay quiet anymore; the panicked cry I let out was unlike anything I ever had before. "No, don't listen to him!--"

"I would've left her here for you to find, just like what you two did to my father!" Daniel chanted. "I would've ruined her, and it would've been all your fault, Godfrey!"

That was it. It was over. I knew it the second those words filled the hallway. His fault. 

Roman snapped. He yelled out in fury, and his hands flew to Daniel's neck where he was on the floor, crushing his windpipes along with any hope for breaths or protests. The look in Roman's eyes was too wild, too uncontrolled, too unstable for my liking-- he looked like he was two seconds away from snapping his neck like a twig, just like what Daniel would've done to me.

"Stop it!" I screamed, terror freezing me to my spot. "Stop it, Roman, stop!--"

"Do-- it!" Daniel wheezed, grinning. "Show her-- what a monster you are!"

My heart was pounding in my ears. No, no, no!

Roman's voice boomed throughout the hallway; "I will break your fucking hands if you touch her again, do you hear me?!"

The amusement in Daniel's eyes quickly disintegrated into abject horror. It was the lack of air. This was the moment he realized one very crucial detail; that all his taunting, all his encouragement, could actually get him very, very badly hurt. "W-Wait--"

"Do you hear me?!"

"Y-Yes!--"

"I will tear you apart!" Roman yelled, tightening his grip. "Is that what you want?!"

Daniel's face was turning a peculiar shade of purple as panic settled in his body. His hands went to Roman's, clawing at them, but to no avail. It was essentially a match he couldn't ever hope to win. It would've been impossible. Roman was too strong, too quick, too sharp-- Daniel didn't stand a chance.

I didn't think it could yet worse, yet somehow it did. In a moment which shouldn't have been possible, not so easily, Roman dragged Daniel's sputtering body up along the locker, lifting him from the ground with no exertion or effort. It made me gasp as I propped myself up from the floor, tears rushing down my cheeks as I watched the scene before me, scared into silence.

When Daniel's legs were dangling off the floor, I knew he had a few seconds before he was out. It was clear in the way his eyes started bulging and how his hands fell limp by his sides. 

Roman's last words were chilling; "Let me show you how much of a monster I can be,"

Daniel let out a short, defeated wheeze. Had he not been choking, it would've been a laugh. He had won, but now he had to pay the price. He squeezed his eyes shut with his last efforts, ready for the beating of his life, all until--

"No, that's enough!" I cried, exhausted by the terror. "Roman, enough!"

It was as though something changed in Roman at the sound of my voice, and the veins were no longer bulging from his hands as he realized the weight of what he had been about to do. With that, he let go of Daniel, who collapsed down along the lockers for the second time tonight; air rushed to his lungs with massive gulps, and his face was no longer purple from the blood rushing to his face.

Now that I remembered everything from the day of the crash, I saw the similarities. The way Roman seemed somewhat taller, how unnaturally wide his pupils dilated, and the way his jaw twitched. 

For the first time, I was seeing him for what he truly might be.

For what he... was. 

Upirism lives beneath their skin, scratches at their teeth, and corrupts their minds through dark urges in constant attempts to drive them to the edge of genesis. Do you suspect you are a upir, or do you recognize a darkness in your loved ones? 

I do.

I do.

Gulping, I finally found the courage and strength to get off the floor. My hands were shaking, and so were my knees-- I was sure my mascara had stained my cheeks at this point, and I felt more breathless than ever as I faced the man I loved. 

What made everything worse, was that Roman looked more beautiful than ever. Hair disheveled, broad shoulders raising with every shaky breath, lips parted. The tux only added to the sight-- he was perfect. Despite the sleeves of his jacket being rolled up, and a part of his shirt being untucked from his pants, he was perfect, and he always would be. His round, green eyes were barely green with how big his pupils were, pulsing with adrenaline; "Are you okay?" he asked, taking a step forward and away from Daniel. "Are you hurt? You were practically unconscious when I came--" 

Roman's words came to a halt when he saw how quickly I took a step back.

My breath was stuck in my chest. I couldn't speak. 

"You look scared. Don't be," he tried. "He's fine, see?" Roman turned around to face Daniel's body, where he lay limp and barely conscious, and proceeded to shortly kick him. 

It made me gasp, clasping my hand over my mouth as Daniel let out a pained whimper. My stomach felt uneasy-- I really didn't want to throw up here.

When Roman saw my horror, he immediately took a step away from Daniel. It hadn't yet dawned on him why I was so scared. "I'm so sorry about this," he said. "I'm sorry I stepped away. I should've never left your side."

I tried to speak, yet nothing would come out. Only tears rushed from my system, peaking at my chin before dripping down to the floor. 

Suddenly, there was a loud cheer from down the hall, a reminder of the prom going on just a door away. It made me jump, frozen in fear.

It was clear that Roman found it to be ironic, and he alternated between glancing down the hall and looking at me. "You still look good," he mumbled, a trying smile tugging at the corners of his perfect lips. Those perfect, plush lips that used to softly press against mine. Was he hoping we could go back inside and act like nothing had happened? "I have a comb you can use, if you want? The mascara is easy to wipe away, I think, and I bet there'll be no one in the restroom, so we can both go and fix ourselves and--"

When he took another step forward, I took another step back.

Roman stilled. His eyes softened with hurt. "Baby,"

I shook my head. That was the only thing I could do.

"Didn't you hear what he was saying? He wanted to-- wanted to do all these awful things to you, I had to do this,"

I couldn't breathe. 

Roman insisted; "I was just protecting you," Despite his calm tone, I spotted the slight shake he had to his hands. "Don't think about all that bullshit he said, okay? He's not in his right mind, he's clearly insane!--"

"His dad, Roman!" My ability to speak returned to me with my growing frustration.

"-- Was a very sad, tragic thing, yes! I'm not denying it!" With the next step Roman took, I stayed in place. He let out a string of controlled, short breaths, trying to calm himself down. "But he didn't have to come after you. I would've given him the money he needed, but it's my mom who controls the assets. All our dear Daniel had to do, was to talk to me. No one had to get hurt."

I squeezed my eyes shut, yet my tears still fell past my lashes. 

Roman let out a sigh which resembled a soft hum. "All that matters is that you're okay. That's all that matters. To me, you're all that matters,"

As his big hands framed my face, holding me when he finally got close enough, I still didn't open my eyes. I couldn't. I was scared out of my mind. Roman's touch was no longer a comfort-- it was chilling to know that they were choking someone less than a minute ago. 

"Are you scared?" he whispered, worry coating his deep voice. "You don't have to be scared of me, I'm not-- I'm not some monster."

I couldn't believe him. His words echoed in my head. Let me show you how much of a monster I can be. 

Let me show you.

"I'm not," Roman insisted. He didn't sound like he believed it much himself. "I'm all yours, only yours. That's all I am, and that's all that I ever will be. You need to know that."

Let me show you.

"Please look at me," 

Let me show you.

"Please," he begged. "I-- I've made some mistakes, but I'm still your Roman. Can't you stomach it anymore? Is me wanting to protect you repulsive to you?" 

I shook my head; not at all. My hands found his chest, feeling it raise against my palms. I used to lay there. Fall asleep there, listening to his beating heart. 

"What did you want me to do, then?" Roman whispered. "You're my everything. You're everything. I couldn't let him get away with doing all of that, I-- I couldn't. I'm sorry if it scared you, I'm sorry you had to see me like that, and I'm so sorry I ever left... I should've stayed with you. I'm a fool. I should've stayed and heard what you wanted to tell me."

I didn't need to look at him to know he was crying, now. His voice was breaking. Actively. It shattered me. 

"Cause... you still want to tell me, right?" 

Something told me he knew what I had wanted to tell him.

My hand crept further up Roman's broad chest as I quietly sobbed, my whole body shaking. My fingers were at his neck, tracing his soft skin.

Roman's grip on my face tightened in desperation, yet his voice came out in a frail, low murmur; "Please-- Please tell me," 

I love you. I love you. If only Roman could read minds. I couldn't conjure the words, not in this state. 

My silence only broke him further. Hopeless, he pressed his tear-stained lips to mine in a sheer cry for mercy. "Please," he whispered between repeated kisses I couldn't reciprocate. "Please-- Please--"

My fingers had managed to slip between the two top buttons of his shirt, and they now grazed the vial of my blood around his neck. As Roman continued to kiss me, desperately pressing my body up against his, I let out a sob as I twisted the capsule, just like I had once practiced; his breath hitched as I wrapped my hand around the vial, clutching it as I pulled it away from him without a word.

Roman's hold on my face disappeared as his hands floated an inch away from my face, his big eyes watery with hurt and confusion. 

I told myself it was for the best. The blood had poisoned his thoughts for too long. 

My first step away was slow, trying.

Tick.

Tick tick.

My second was quickly followed by a sprint down the hallway, away from Roman, away from Daniel, away from everything.

Tick tick tick.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Have you ever thought about death? Of course you have, everyone has-- but have you ever felt it?

It felt like I was dying for the hundredth time this week. The agony was pressing at the sides of my head, and it made me hope it would finally cave in on itself just to spare me the torture of being awake. 

It was the fear that brought me to Letha's doorstep. The thing I didn't want to be true. Everything had balled up into a ginormous travesty of a boulder, and I could no longer try to push it over the side of the mountain-- I was no Sisyphus. 

I couldn't begin to comprehend how shocked Letha must've been when she opened the door. She opened and closed her mouth, scanning the mascara which had stained my cheeks, and the state of the top of my hair. "What the fuck?" she cursed under her breath, grabbing my hand to pull me inside. "What are you doing here? What happened?"

I felt like a shell of the person I used to be. Like I had been cracked open like a lobster, with someone actively scooping out my insides. Letha's house smelled of expensive fragrance sticks you'd buy from Rituals-- I recognized the one she had in her house at the moment, the ritual of hammam. It was her favorite, I remembered that much. I felt at home. It was an odd feeling.

"Your dress," Unsure what to do, Letha bent down to fix the way my dress fell. "Seriously, what happened?--"

"A while ago, you said you wanted to tell me the truth about Roman," My voice was sharp, hollow, as I stared at the girl who was once my best friend. I had cried into her shoulder before, we had shared countless laughs-- what had I done? "What was it?"

Letha stilled with shock when she straightened up, meeting my troubled gaze. "Shouldn't you be at prom?"

"Letha, I need!--"

"Where even is, Roman, actually?"

"You need to tell me!" I cried. "You need-- I need to know, I need to hear it from you, because I need someone to tell me that I've gone crazy!"

With slow motions, Letha stretched out her hands to place them gently on my shoulders. "Let's take some deep breaths, okay? Whatever this is, I bet you and Roman will get through this. Did you have a fight? It can be painful to argue with your boyfriend, and it really can feel like you're going crazy. I get it, and--"

"-- I have this book," I interrupted, feeling my tears press up against my lashes once more. "It's really long and dreadful, but I've read the whole thing over and over about five times now."

The worry streaking across Letha's face turned into a look of confusion. "Okay...? As long as it's not Fifty Shades again, I'm listening,"

It was odd to speak to someone that knew me so well. She knew I had read that stupid book several times, despite how ridiculous it could be at times. It almost threw me off. "The more I read the book, the more I saw the... similarities with Roman,"

Letha grimaced; "Fifty Shades?"

"No! The other one!"

"Oh, alright. Phew,"

I groaned, rubbing my temples. I was exhausted. "You said I deserved to know the truth about him, so I'm begging you, Letha, to put everything aside," My breath struggled to steady. "What was it?"

Her palms lifted from my shoulders. "I-- I don't know how to say it, or whether I should tell you at all. I only ever mentioned it because I thought you were in danger, but--" Letha stilled. It was clear on her face that she knew she had said too much.

"Danger?" I echoed. "Letha?"

With a quick hitch of her breath, Letha made her way past me with hasty steps and disappeared into the living room.

"Please!" I followed her, watching as she paced back and forth in the big room, anxiously biting her nails. "Letha, I need to hear it from you, I need to know that I'm wrong, I need to hear that it's something else than what I think it is!"

"I-- I don't, I can't!--"

"Tell me!"  I needed to hear it out loud. I burned to hear it from someone else than the voice in my head.

"N-No, I!--"

"Letha!"

"It's too-- I can't!--"

"Say it!" 

Letha stilled with the boom of my voice. She stared back at me from across the room, no longer pacing as she finally dared to face the crazed look in my eyes. There was a long pause, a silence that laid itself over us like a cold blanket-- "What book was it?" she breathed.

"The--" I hated this title. "The avoidable vampirism, the--" I couldn't say the word. I couldn't.

Letha nodded. It was barely noticeable, and it resembled an involuntary tic. "Yes,"

Yes?

"Yes, he is,"

"Say it," I whispered. "Please."

Letha closed her eyes, resigning;

"Roman's a upir,"

The house was dead silent. You could've heard a pin drop. There were faint remnants of the wind brushing past the large tree outside the property, with the rustling of the leaves filling the sonic void. Letha wasn't moving. Neither was I. How does one process such news? It was a peculiar feeling-- I felt like I had already known for a long time. There was no shockwave, as I had expected there to be. 

"Ah," was all I said. It left Letha to raise a brow, visibly off-put by my reaction. 

I nodded to myself a couple times, glancing around the living room I used to know better than the back of my hand. A small huff escaped me, similarly to a laugh; I wondered whether my brain was melting. It surely felt like it. 

For a second, I thought that was it. That there would be no blow to the reveal. That I was handling it surprisingly well, and that it'd be the end of it. However, the more breaths I took, the less I felt like I was breathing. The less I felt I was breathing, the more I could feel the painful thumping of my heart against my ribs, every beat serving as a reminder that I was still alive, still in this moment, still processing. 

My breath got stuck in my throat with the next heave-- my hands flew to my necklace, trying to find the clasp. It was too tight, too tight. With shaking fingers, I tried to get it off, needed it off, right now. It didn't work, no matter how hard I tried, and my eyes welled with tears as I ripped my necklace off with a gasp, hoping I'd finally be able to breathe. The beads rolled along the hardwood floors as I clutched at my chest, hitting my chest in hopes that air would fill it.

Letha's big, green eyes were filled with worry as she rushed to me, unsure how to help. "Hey, hey, breathe, okay?--"

The corset of my dress was suddenly an agonizing pressure around my waist, and my fingers went to the ribbons at the back to slacken it. It didn't work, no matter what I tried, and the sob I let out was followed by a broken plea; "Help-- H-Help!--" 

Letha hurried to get behind me as I slowly sank to the floor, choking on my tears as she untied the ribbons at full speed. My hands were tearing at my dress, choking with my last breaths as I descended into the heap of tulle around me-- I tried to scream, yet no sound would come. 

In a last attempt, Letha grabbed the ribbons with full force and pulled them apart, ripping the fabric in half as my corset finally came apart. 

What followed was a mix of a sob and a heave, a choked sound filling the room as I leaned forward into the tulle, taking sharp breaths of release. I could finally breathe. I was breathing again. I wept into my hands as Letha's soft hands stroked my exposed back, sitting down on the floor next to me as she brought my body as close to hers as she could. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "I'm so, so sorry."

I shook in her arms, drowning in tears. It was true. Roman was a upir. I had been right all along, yet I had also been stupid enough to suppress it. The sadness, the heartbreak, that hit me felt like a death-sentence, and I held onto Letha as my whole body trembled with the realization; "I love him," I cried. "I love-- I love him!"

"I know," Letha stroked my hair, sighing. "I tried to get to you before you got that far, but there always comes a point when you can no longer do anything. I've learned that the hard way, now."

This was worse than death. "What do I do?" I breathed. "I don't-- I don't know what to do!"

"... You know what you have to do," 

It only made me clutch onto her harder, and I squeezed my eyes shut in hopes of stopping the stream of tears. I wondered how I had any more of them in my system. "I don't-- think I can!"

"I only want what's best for you," Letha cooed, patting away my fallen tears. "And I know that Roman can be charming, and he can be very nice when he wants to be, but... now that you know what he is, how are you going to believe him ever again? He's lied to you all this time, and he would've never told you himself. You're aware that he's putting you in danger every time he's near you?"

I shook my head; "N-No, Roman would never!--"

"If you read a whole book about upirs, you probably know what he's capable of?"

"He'd never-- never hurt me!--"

"Maybe he wouldn't hurt you, but you know he can control people, right?" Letha sighed once more, tilting my head upwards so that I would meet her eyes. "He did that to me our whole childhood. His favorite thing to do in the winter was to make me stick my tongue on metal poles and watch me cry when I couldn't detach it."

What? "But!--"

"How can you ever be sure that your actions are yours?" Letha's eyes were so intense, so desperate to get her point across. "How can you ever trust him again?"

How many times hadn't I thought he was mesmerizing me? I could count them on my fingers, but the thought was still unsettling. "I... don't know,"

Letha shifted to sit on her knees, watching my mascara paint my cheeks with long, black streaks. "I'm glad you came to me," she murmured, softening her look. "I'm glad you see that I'm the only one that can help you. We should put everything behind us and stick together again, and we have to. I'm all you have now. Roman... he's dangerous. You're safe with me."

I was so, so tired. I didn't have the energy to fight the free help coming my way, yet... something felt off. "He's not dangerous," I tried, in denial. "He's--"

"He's what?" Letha insisted, hardening her gaze. This was giving me whiplash. "Seriously! He could snap any day, can't you see?! And who would be closest to him the day he's overcome with thirst?" 

"No!--"

"It'd be you!" Letha grabbed my face, and it only made my tears flow faster, hanging from my quivering chin. "It'd be you, and I can't lose you again, not in that way!"

The more my vision blurred, the weaker I felt. "I love him,"

"I know,"

"I-- I love him,"

"But you need to love yourself more," she whispered. Letha let go of my face, wrapping her arms around me in a warm embrace. She smelled just like she did all those months ago. My best friend, Letha. I missed her more than anything. 

How could I ever love anything or anyone more than I loved Roman? I didn't have space for that in my body. I didn't have the capacity. 

"Do it for your life," Letha pleaded, her voice smooth as honey. It felt like she was talking me to sleep. "Please."

A life without Roman? I couldn't imagine it. Not when we had promised each other forever.

But... forever for him probably meant forever. 

Roman is a upir. 

Roman is a upir.

I let out another cry into Letha's shoulder; this was a nightmare I wouldn't ever wake up from.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

When you get devastating news, you never think of what happens afterward. It's similar to when someone dies-- you get the news, in comes the shock, and then you get handed the papers on what to do with the body. No one ever thinks about having to design the flyer for the funeral, right? 

There is a certain weight in your body as you go through the motions you know you have to go through. Your hands feel heavy as you hold your next meal before your mouth, realizing that life moves on, whether you want it to or not. You still need to drink water, eat, wake up, and function. 

And just as I opened the door to my empty home, I felt all of that at once. I wanted to freak out and sob in despair to the end of my days, yet I had to get back home. I had to get out of the clothes Letha had given me after I ruined my dress, I had to eat something to fill my rumbling stomach, and I had to sleep. How was I supposed to do any of that when it felt like my world was crashing down on me?

It felt like someone had pressed a button at the top of my head, putting me on auto-pilot. I didn't even notice that I was still wearing my jacket as I made my way to the kitchen with heavy steps, mindlessly opening the fridge and taking a... cucumber?

Why was I holding a cucumber?

Fuck it.

I couldn't think. I didn't even close the fridge. My mind was empty as I put it down on the kitchen island, not even bothering to find a cutting board. I didn't want to think. The more I thought, the more I thought about Roman. Roman and his perfect lips, Roman and his beautiful laugh, Roman and his green, green, green eyes. Roman, the man I loved. Roman, the upir. 

Involuntary tears rushed down my cheeks as my face remained stoic. I was exhausted. I had no idea how I was still moving. My hands were mindlessly tapping the kitchen surfaces around me, hoping I'd somehow find a knife that way. Not that I'd be particularly successful, but maybe I didn't want to be? I wasn't even planning on washing the cucumber. Maybe I hoped the germs would kill me. Could you die from an unwashed cucumber? I had no idea. There was probably a higher possibility that Roman would kill me first. 

... I hated that thought. 

I wish I didn't have to have it.

However, as my hands found the selection of knives, I heard a sound coming from behind me. It came from the other side of the kitchen island, the one I had my back turned to. I didn't think much of it first; houses creak all the time, surely. But then came the scrape-- a deliberate, jarring screech of a chair being pulled out from the kitchen island.

My parents were out of town. 

Someone was in my house.

Someone was pulling out a chair.

I froze, every muscle in my body locking up, my breath catching in my throat.  The sound of slow, deliberate footsteps sent a chill crawling down my spine. They weren’t hurried or hesitant-- they were purposeful, unhurried, as though whoever was there wanted me to hear.

I gripped the counter with trembling fingers, my pulse hammering in my ears. I didn’t dare look back, but every inch of me screamed to run. My fingers brushed the cold handle of the biggest knife I could find, finally. The familiar fight-or-flight surged through me, but I couldn’t choose. All I could do was grip the knife and hold it as though it were a lifeline.

When the footsteps stopped, I thought for a moment that maybe, just maybe, I had imagined it. 

But then-- the breath.

A low, soft exhale just inches behind me.

Now or never. I spun around with a panicked yell, the knife held high, ready to plunge it into whoever had invaded my home-- My scream got stuck in my throat when the blade pointed at the chest of a tall figure standing in the dark, his face barely illuminated by the faint glow of the refrigerator light.

Roman.

Roman didn't even bother to stop me, didn't jump away, nothing. The tip of my knife was barely dipping into his solar plexus, yet I was sure it would've been enough to draw blood on any other person; it didn't even pierce his skin. 

I couldn't believe what was happening. He somehow didn't look like himself-- it was Roman like I’d never seen him before. His expression was blank, too blank, the kind of blank that made my stomach churn. He didn’t flinch at the blade hovering just below his sternum. His green eyes locked onto mine with a kind of detachment, as though I wasn’t holding a weapon to his chest at all.

“You done?” he said, his voice carrying an eerie stillness.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. My knuckles whitened around the handle.

Roman’s eyes flickered down to the blade, then back to me. “Put it down,” he said, his tone measured but firm.

“No,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

Roman took a quiet step back, glancing down at the large knife I was holding at him with an unreadable emotion shimmering in his big, green eyes. "Right..." he huffed, sucking in a sharp breath. His gaze darted up to meet mine in the dark of the kitchen. "Is that how you want to do this?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. There was no other way, not when I knew the truth. 

Roman’s lips parted, and the breath that escaped wasn’t human—it was low, steady, and calculating, like a predator sizing up its prey. His gaze locked onto the knife, then slowly dragged up to meet mine. His pupils were darker now, swallowing the green of his eyes, and the silence between us stretched too long.

“If you’re gonna do it, don't hesitate,” Roman's voice was soft, yet laced with something cold and merciless. He took a single step forward, the tip of the knife now pressing harder against his chest. “You won’t get another chance.”

I gasped, stumbling back, but Roman didn’t follow. He stayed in the shadows, his figure looming over me like some unholy force. “Fine. This is how it's gonna go,” he continued, his tone so calm it made my blood run cold. “You’re going to put that down and listen. No running, no screaming. I deserve that much."

I tightened my grip on the knife, my chest heaving. “Why should I listen to you?"

A huff-- Roman was pissed. "Cause I'm really not in the mood for chasing you. It'd be over in less than three seconds, and that's never fun," Roman's voice dropped to a near whisper; "You wanna fight me, or do you want to be smart about this?"

I didn't lower my knife. I couldn't. "Alright," I breathed. "Talk, then."

Roman tilted his head, studying me, his lips curving into the faintest ghost of a smirk-- it didn't reach his eyes. "There you go," he said. 

"Good girl."

(a/n: ... are u still breathing? cause I'm not!!!! AGHHH😭 thank you for reading this if you got this far, this is so so much lore so if your brain is overheating pls pls go grab an icecream, you deserve it, and I LOVE YOUUU MWAHHH CAN'T WAIT TO SHOW Y'ALL THE REST OF THIS STORY!!)

here are all the chapters!<3: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13

loveliest taglist of all time:

@mentallyscreamingsincebirth @putherup @corawithfanfiction @vladsgirlxx

@iamaslytherin0 @sexualparkour @the-universe-is-complicated @heavenly-bratt

@lafemme-nk @namiusedbubble @useyourwandbro @strmborns @literally-lani

@virgosapphire79 @star-girl-04 @veyzus @ddipotassium @pecxiebu

@mil88691 @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @katifefe @sn0wybowie-blog

@lilithskywalker @likecherriesinthespring @sadheartjellyfish @vadersangel

@shehangsbrightly @burningmiraclekingdom @dollforaswan @austinswhitewolf

@nico-velvet @shiiiii-okayyyy @theantagonistalwaysdies @blackbluerose666

@obexes @rosecoloureddudez @amoure020 @itsaeasykill

@succubustacy @carmillavalentine @scarledy @chaneloberlin62727

@belovedmoony @lokitargaryen @vienneviennaxx @ellie1725

@taintandviolent

[savi-our]

Anti-Harem with OP Mage MC pt. 2

Right so... this is longer than i intended and more detailed than intended, i humbly ask for your forgiveness for this reading more like a fanfic one-shot 😭 Theres just so much you can do with this idea and i wanted to do the SF brothers justice, this is less anti-harem centric and more daily life of MC centric so do what you will with it - id love to hear some thoughts on this though, im genuinely considering writing a full blown fic abt this prompt and writing out ideas here helps convince me. Also watch me turn SF Sans into a closeted fangirl in real-time bc i CAN and i WISH TO and i WILL... tee hee 😍 HT for next part maybe? idk hdafejkkl

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Months passed since the new recruit arrived, and you had spent most of those months avoiding the household all together, not that any of them were in any hurry to seek you out. Actually - apart from passing glares and avoidant glances the skeletons had seemed to avoid you all together now, and it didn't take you long to realize that it was the newbies doing. It seems the brothers had already begun to switch all their official mage dealings with the newbie, and you overheard them one night speaking of how nice it'll be once you were gone. It hit you hard, the unbridled JOY that came from those words. The first smile in months had graced your expression, this annoying assignment would be done soon, and you didn't even have to look for a replacement. Of course there was a technical issue there, the recruit was weak, you doubted they could handle the responsibility, but you'd be damned if you had to be reassigned to the brothers again due to their own poor judgement. You set up barrier upon barrier on the furthest borders of the property, weaving old and powerful magic unseen by the untrained eye, as invisible as a spider thread in the deep dark of night.

The day came sooner than anticipated, a sunny morning wrapped in late spring dew when an official courier brought you the sealed reassignment papers, you wasted very little time. There were no goodbyes, nobody to see you off, no see you laters. You just packed your bags and left, deciding to celebrate your release from this mock hell with a feast of your own making. 

Days passed easily after that, your new assignment had been similar in that you were still expected to deal with monsterkind. As the official top ranking mage you were expected to oversee the immigration process of the newer species - finding them homes and determining the new borders, on paper that is - in actuality you were there in case it all went to shit. You were there to evaluate how big of a threat these newcomers were, and if all of it went down the drain, expectation fell to you to play both judge and executioner. It was all a terrible diplomatic hassle, endless meetings with diplomats and officials from both sides, meetings with the kings and queens, correspondence between the Archmage and the people on the ground, endless evaluations and negotiations. Where they lived, were they safe, were they able to integrate, political and financial concerns, provisions and temporary shelters were now your everyday cause for headache. It was there you met a pair of somewhat similar faces.

 Black and Mutt were skeletons, and that fact had not given you the best first impression - unbecoming of you perhaps, to judge a book by its cover, but months of threats and insults could change even the most unbiased of people. The two were a tad different from the others however, something you found curious if not a bit strange, they were… respectful, if not a bit stiff. Charged as part of the Royal Guard - they worked closely with the rulers of Mtt. Ebbot, so you saw them often escorting officials to and from meetings. You had no reason to approach them, coming from the other side as you were, you technically outranked them quite a bit in the merging hierarchy, but it was one stormy night that made you all grow quite a bit closer in an alarmingly short period of time.

A pack of fiends had snuck their way into one of the lesser guarded shelters outside of Mtt. Ebbott, cunning creatures that fed off of magic. They were hardly a threat alone, even an apprentice mage could take on two by themself - unfortunately due to that fact they tended to gather in numbers, the recorded largest amount was around forty if you remembered right, this however, this was beyond your imagination.

You should have predicted it,it was your miss, your meager miscalculation, of course they would be drawn here, a cave sealed off for centuries, brewing magic for centuries, a breeding ground for anything magic, broken for the first time in centuries. You responded quickly, but by the time you got there it was already chaos, the loud thrum of magic permeated the air and both monsters and humans were rushed off of the scene, the ground was bloodied, a sign that you were already late. You assessed the scene as you rushed past the terrified civilians, you would need to clean it up quickly. 

The resisting force had taken damage but they were holding, human and monster guards stationed at the furthest gate fighting off the onslaught of fangs and burning eyes. You took notice of the two skeletons fighting beyond the gate, they worked well together, soldiers of significant skill - you sped past them, an order to pull back immediately flew past your lips and you moved further into the swarm, Black had called after you but you tuned it out, as daunting as the situation seemed it was still below your paygrade.

It was a single spell, a light that lit up the sky, a deafening bang that rattled the ground and the job was done. Your hands stung from the forced speed of the cast, but you remained unscathed as you stood among the scattered ashes, burning flesh permeated the air. You sighed, the ever present mountain of paperwork on your desk was bound to double in size.

It was all damage control after that, rushed orders to your subordinates and rebinding of the barriers, but when you stepped past the gate once again to scout out the surrounding for any remaining threats is when the two skeleton guards approached you, they demanded to go with you- well the shorter one did anyway, it made your brows raise - there weren't many people left in the world that demanded things from you. You looked them both over, amusement in your eyes, and agreed, a challenge to keep up on your tongue.

After that things had slightly shifted, the skeletons greeted you upon meeting, saluted you upon leaving, you began to notice more monsters approach you with official papers or directives, it was an odd thing, mainly because you reflected on how joined it seemed all of a sudden. Before the attack you were mostly responsible for the human mages and soldiers on base, now it seemed your responsibilities grew their own legs and danced around the monsters as well. You saw more of the skeletons, Black in particular seemed curious, even though he never admitted it or outwardly showed it, it was subtle but you noticed, he often joined you for your nightly rounds even when not required to, it was a bit awkward at first, silent patrolling of the grounds, you had nothing to really speak about, and it seemed neither did he. You could not for the life of you figure out why he took such a sudden interest in your company but you also were curious how long he would keep it up, besides, having him accompany you seemed to put the other monsters at ease.It was on one of those rounds when you finally addressed him, he seemed surprised that you had, shoulders stiff, back straight as he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Don't you have more important things to do?” You asked, the question seemed harsh, but its harshness dissipated by the lightness of your tone, echoed by the stone hall in the moonlit night. He had opened his mouth but it was a moment before he responded, seemingly not expecting conversation, he turned away clearing his throat as he set himself to rights.

“OF COURSE NOT, THE SECURITY OF THESE GROUNDS IS OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE. CONSIDERING THE DISASTER FROM TWO WEEKS AGO ITS MORE EFFICIENT TO DO IT MYSELF.” 

You hummed, continuing to walk, listening to the sharp sound of his footfalls a step behind you.

“Would it not be better to split up then?” You asked, your tone still light, your eyes observing him with a knowing glint.

“W-WELL YES, BUT FOUR EYES ARE BETTER THAN ONE, AND IT WILL SAVE TIME IF WE DO SPOT SOMETHING AND NEED A MESSENGER.”

And your guess proved right, his reasoning was weak at best, there was no need for both of you to do rounds together - you could clock a threat miles away even in the pitch black, and you knew for a fact that Black could handle himself well enough, and yet he seemed to want to be in your shadow all the same, you chuckled, but did not voice your thoughts. 

Your relationship seemed to steadily improve after that, every now and again you would walk the shelter grounds together, and every now and again you'd exchange conversation albeit a short one, but it beat the awkward silence that was there in the beginning.

Mutt was different, he didn't seem to hold as much intrigue towards you as his brother, he was more so there by default as he seemed to almost always stay by his brother's side, in fact the only time you saw either of them apart was when Black joined you in securing the premises. The taller brother was an enigma, you had not heard him speak once since your assignment, a part of you wondered if he even could. But he didn't seem outwardly volatile either, more so apathetic towards the goings on around him. That opinion switched one busy day where a scheduling error had made the three of you take an overnight shift guarding a group of pompous diplomats. It was a nightmare, twelve straight hours of listening to empty boasts and endless rants about the economy, even you had begun to space out, this was probably worse than those month long scouting missions in Siberia you were forced into back in training.

 You noticed the brothers were reaching their limit as well, you worried Black would leave indents in his skull with the force he was gritting his teeth and you were sure Mutt was half asleep as he wobbled on his feet, skull falling every odd minute or so. 

It was a couple hours later when you found out you were scheduled for two more babysitting sessions except they were both at the same time, and both had human and monster envoys, Black seemed to mirror your frustration as you checked and rechecked the schedule. 

One way or another you had organized a lower ranking mage qualified for escort duty to take your place for one of them, and Black had given his brother the order to attend the same one as you as he himself took the other, rushed words of “IT’LL BE QUICKER IF EACH OF US TAKES ONE.” after which you parted, the vote of confidence made you chuckle.

It was another four hours when you wondered if Mutt had passed away standing on his feet, he hadnt moved in a good hour or two, and skeletons didn't need to breathe so he remained deathly still. He stood behind the officials chair like a statue carved from marble, quite an unsettling sight considering the early hours of the morning and the sharp looming shadows casting off of him. The human envoys seemed to agree with you, considering the nervous glances being cast his way amidst the conversation, and you couldn't help but find the situation amusing. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep or the frustrations of your job but you decided to hurry the meeting along with a mischievous play of magic, lest you join Mutt in his nap. A moving shadow here, the caw of a crow there and what do you know, suddenly all business has been magically taken care of.

You had woken the looming skeleton with the good news and watched as he attempted to stifle a yawn, he had checked his phone and noted that his brother had not been graced with the same fortune as you. You had asked if he would wait - a nod, you offered your office - a moment of silence, but after a while, another nod.

It was another hour at your desk, finishing up some paperwork when you heard gentle snoring on your office couch, a comfy thing that had served you many times for a bed in the days where your job kept you from home, the sound made you blink slowly to the skeleton that occupied it.

Your own exhaustion made you zone out in thought, the sight had an enviable peacefulness to it, it's perhaps why you didn't notice the phone that fell with a quiet thump out of Mutts pocket. It vibrated, once, twice, then for a third time, screen lighting up repeatedly. You rose from your seat, bones popping as you sighed and made your way over, if it was Black then it was probably asking where Mutt was, you should wake him.

Is what you thought anyway, what ended up happening was you being trapped in an iron grip stuck to a dead asleep skeleton. It happened so quickly and out of nowhere that you didn't even have time to process it, the long hours awake didn't help either. One second you're reaching for his shoulder and the next you're halfway on top of said skeleton, limbs wound around limbs. You blanked, what even was this situation, you never took Mutt for a cuddler, his grip is crushing, impressive for someone with no muscle, wait hold on.

You attempted to pull away, but the answering growl and tightening hold let you know that the skeleton didn't agree with that choice of options, subconsciously or not. Waking him up seemed a thing that you should do, but the option flew right out of the door once you thought about how this would all register with him once he woke up, it was embarrassing really. You attempted once again to move off of him but he turned, and dragged you along with him further into the couch. Ah, you had made it worse. Couch cushions pressed in your back and a very large and a very asleep skeleton pressing you into his ribcage, it seems he intended to keep you for a body pillow, now what.

The door slammed open and you blanked once again, this was a nightmare, you prayed it wasn't some disgruntled diplomat come to complain to you about something. You attempted to lift your head to see but the grip on you made your back pop and you groaned, breath knocked out of you.

“MUTT! WHAT IN TORIEL'S NAME ARE YOU DOING GET OFF THIS INSTANT!! NOW YOU DOG! OFF!” The yelling was familiar and for a second you felt relief, and then dread all over again as vertigo hit you. In his panic he had rolled, rolled right off the couch and onto the cold hard ground and had taken you with him. You groaned again as you attempted to get your bearings, lifting your gaze only to be met with bright purple, you blinked and watched as slowly but surely confusion turned into realization and then straight into horror, the brightness of the flush on Mutt’s face was there for half a second before he was gone, disappearing into thin air. 

It took you a while to process the whole thing , even longer to reassure Black that it was an accident on his brother's part and that you were partly to blame for the situation as well. By the end of it all it was safe to say that you were exhausted, so you had locked up and went home, it was the morning after that you noticed that the lanky skeletons phone was still innocently laid on your carpet. You snorted, wondering whether or not the silent guard dog would come knocking on your door before late, or if it would be his ever principled brother in his stead.

[ghostbustting]

HAII I LOVE YOUR WRITING SMM 😋😋 I WAS WONDERING IF YOU COULD WRITE A DAVE MUSTAINE SMUT?? I IMAGINE THE PLOT BEING READER AND DAVE CREATE A SEX TAPEE :3 IF NOT THAT ONE YOU CAN DO FAMOUS SINGER!READER AND DAVE MUSTAINE SECRETLY DATINGG :3 🫶🏻 alright thanks for listening to my Ted talk

loved both ideas so much, so i decided to combine them (turned out way longer than I intended to write 😭)

╰┈➤“𝑪𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑹𝑨 𝑹𝑶𝑳𝑳„ ๋࣭

Dave Mustaine x Singer!Reader

Contains Smut.

Camera flashes my way as I walk out of the building, a forced smile painted on my face, trying to push myself past the people asking questions and their annoying cameras. There were people calling out my name, trying to get my attention here and there. They push and push through the other people, their mind careless as they all continue to swarm over me.

Sunglasses were a must in these conditions, like a shield to my eyes from those horrible flashes of lights that can blind my eyesight. They were also convenient in hiding the look of annoyance I hold behind my eyes.

I could barely see the path I am walking on, the vision of my destination in front of me was blocked by them as well. Not to mention how much their presence here are decelerating my walk, almost like a living barcade, preventing me to leave.

My own name fills my ear. At this point, at least they didn't hear how many irritated sighs I let out.

A lady who seemingly work at a news station, or just coincidentally own a microphone and dresses professionally, shoves a microphone my way as she ask me the question of, "Are you releasing anything new soon?"

The sudden appearance of the microphone caused me to flinch the slightest bit. Yet I force myself to smile, leaning down to the microphone to answer, "Uh.. yes, a new album's coming on July—"

I was cut off when footsteps storms their way into the swarm of people. Looking up, I found the culprits to be these four guys; long hair, tall, chicks in their arms, and famous enough to pull some of the people's attention away from me. More specifically, they are Megadeth.

When one of their shoulder collided with mine– obviously intended, I was pushed away a little, giving them more space to do their not necessarily dramatic walk. It wasn't really hard for me to find out that the one that bumped their shoulder into mine was none other than their lead singer, Dave Mustaine.

What people saw when he bumped into me was the interview he had not long ago. That redheaded man was saying how music like mine is unnecessarily famous, even mocking the way I was singing and all. That interview was taken when I had beat him in a nomination at an award show. I was grinning all night that time.

But what I saw when he bumped into me was different. I was focused on the paper he slipped right into my hand the moment our shoulders meet, an act so small and sneaky yet an act so big if any of the people around caught onto it and the fact that he wrote his hotel room number in it.

Once they walk away, I smile to myself and chuckle, looking back at the lady that was asking a question. "Well, there goes Megadeth and their dramatic entrance." I laugh softly.

By the time I answer two more questions, I manage to skedaddle away and into a taxi, having most of the people to be pulled away by the charming mighty Megadeth. But I guess Dave just knew how much I didn't like interacting with paparazzi.

There's in fact a lot of things that Dave knew about me actually.

My favorite color.. my favorite animal.. my favorite artists.. my hobbies.. the perfume I wear.. the way I laugh.. the shampoo I use on my hair.. the things I hate.. the taste of my lips..

Too many things, perhaps.

Yet all those things had to be kept behind doors, whenever we have the time to be alone. Just the two of us. Not a single bandmate of his. Not a single paparazzi. No one else. Just us and our little secret.

By the time the taxi stops at my destination, I step out of the yellow coloured car and look up to see the tall building in front of me, windows of hotel rooms seen up there, one of those windows belonging to Dave Mustaine's hotel room.

"You came."

The man stood there in front of me, having previously opened up the door of his hotel room to my knocks. He was wearing a white button up shirt, the only buttons on being the three last ones, the rest on the top unbuttoned and giving me a peek of his chest. His belt was on, yet unbuckled, just resting loosely around his waist.

Looking up, I'm met by a precious grin on his face as he look down on me, leaning his side against the doorframe.

"You begged me to."

I return his grin the same way he was wearing it, almost as if we were looking into a mirror— just that our reflection's a different person's body. A beautiful chuckle of his fill my ears as he stood straight again.

His hand rose up, reaching out in the air between us, a silent ask for my own hand to be placed on top of his spread out palm.

Willingly, I place my hand on top of his and let him wrap his fingers around my hand, his touch gentle yet with a sense of possessiveness behind it as he slowly take me inside of his hotel room. That hand of his trails up my arm until he wrap his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close to his body as we walk further in.

My body against his, I can smell the fragrance on him with our proximity as we walk.

"Is that.."

"-Your perfume? Yeah. Obsessed with it."

I turn my head to look up at him, finding him still staring at me with such focus, the grin on his lips becoming softer now. The way he spoke his words so simply yet so genuinely are always able to shoot butterflies right into my stomach. But with that look in his eyes as well is just way too much for me to handle.

As we approach the bed, I return the smile on his face. He slowly bring me with him as he lay down on the bed, kicking his shoes off, my own heels following after his shoes.

We lay down on the bed, his head resting on the pillow while mine was on his chest, the beat of his heart pressed against my ear, my arm over his stomach as his lips place kisses on my head, arms wrapped around me.

For a moment it stays like that, just silent moment with him showering me in kisses, my mind focused on how slightly fast his heart was beating, my fingers fiddling with his hair I've grown to be oddly obsessed with.

Dave's voice was soft as he spoke up to me, "How was your day?" He asked me, one of his hand coming up to run his fingers through my hair, moving some strands out of my face as he leans down to kiss my cheek.

"Same as everyday." I sigh, twirling a strand of his hair using my finger. His lips continue to place kisses all over my face, an act I've loved so dearly, yet also an act that we couldn't put on display out of the closed door.

He chuckled softly and focused on kissing my jaw, my breath becoming heavier just the slightest bit from the way his lips rubbed up and down my jaw. "Fame, right? Fun but tiring." He mumble against my skin.

I hummed at his words, a silent agreement, my fingers brushing his hair as he continue to kiss me all over.

That's when he moved to my neck and his kisses becomes way more sloppier, my skin feeling partially wet from his messy kisses. "Dave.. what are you doing?" I giggle softly, feeling his teeth grazing my skin as he bite down a small hidden mark right below my ear.

"Missed you... all day long.." He mumbled. His hands trails down to hold my waist, his grip firm as he caress my body through my dress, feeling me all over. Yet I knew right through his touch that feeling my body with this dress as a barrier from my skin was not the same to his liking.

"Hey, listen.." Dave pulled back, a wider grin on his face now. A grin of mischief. A grin of trouble.

Preparing myself for whatever his idea was, I took a deep breath and smile softly at him as his mouth opens yet again, he spoke slowly. "I have an idea. Something you can take your mind off to."

My eyebrow raised, a small curiosity rises in me as his words managed to take hold of my interest. How bad could this be anyways? Besides, I don't mind a little distraction from all the fuss I had today.

A small chuckle manage to escape my lips as I tilt my head, rolling my eyes in amusement. "I'm in." The moment I said those two simple words, a glimmer was seen inside those beautiful eyes of his, a glimmer of excitement, knowing I was willing to do what he have to offer.

Wasting the night just feels right with him. No matter if we do something stupid, or absolutely useless shit, he just knew how to make me feel like the most important and seen person in the whole universe. Like I was here, a precious possession of his.

Dave was just.. the biggest jerk, idiot, and sweetheart all at the same time.

And that's why minutes later after our conversation, I was on the bed still. Yet this time, the elegant dress that once covered up all the inappropriate areas of my body now tosses aside, like it has some other nights before this one. His own shirt and pants accompanying my dress on the floor.

I watch patiently from the bed to where he was standing, his focus for a while solely on the camera he was handling, pulling up a chair and placing the camera there in order to keep it steady, just close by the bed, the lens catching our bodies just perfectly on the bed.

"I swear to God.." I sigh and stare at Dave, pointing my finger at him. "If this gets out and my reputation's over, you're dead, Mustaine."

He laughed out loud, no doubt finding my fear of our little movie getting leaked amusing, as if that's what he was aiming for at the first place. "Yea yea, just shut up and be sexy for the camera, won't you? I need this to jerk off to." He winked. I'd be lying if he wasn't being idioticly smart with his words despite rolling my eyes in annoyance.

With a press of the record button, the camera starts catching each and every one of our moves, the thought and realization hitting me like a ton of bricks and made my heart start beating faster.

I can't help but also rethink the thought of getting this tape leaked, the thought of the public actually knowing how this man takes care of me and make me feel... the thought of the girls wanting him seeing me being the woman he worship.. It makes me press my thighs together, unable to deny the soaking spot right in the middle of my panties.

I was soon snapped out of my thoughts when Dave gets back on the bed, hovering over me, his eyes gazes upon my almost completely bare body with such lust and excitement, the tension of his gaze struck right through me and into my soul.

My breath becomes heavier the moment his hand reached up and cupped my right cheek, his thumb moving to gently stroke my skin in a circular motion, a motion I wish he was doing to my aching clit down there.

He leaned down, his lips immediately finding mine and connecting with such ease, our eyes fluttering close as I wrap my arms around his neck and pulled him into me even more, wanting to be one with him, to merge souls with him, to be connected forevermore until the end of the multiverses.

With our lips still focusing on each other's, his hands trails to my back, his fingers reaching out to unclasp my bra, something he manage to do with one hand from how much time he had done it by now. My bra slips off me and was toss aside with such ease.

Dave then pulls back from the kiss, I whine at the sudden loss of his lips. "Dave.." I breathed out, my breath hitching when he took no time to waste, his lips now attatched onto one of my erect nipple, meanwhile his hands found themselves a new and last piece of fabric to discard from my body.

He gripped the fabric of my panties, his mouth sucking the skin of my breast as his fingers pulled on the laced piece of clothing, the stitches of the fabric starting to pull apart, making me flinch the moment he ripped the panties into pieces, groaning against my breast.

Small desperate moans leaves my lips like prayers, just the sensation of his lips around my nipple was enough to make me lose control of myself. My eyes glances to the side, finding that same camera, feeling the lens of it catching every one of his movement and every single noises that I let out.

Dave's hand meets my jaw, turning my head towards him as he takes ahold of my attention yet again, "Keep those pretty eyes on me." He demanded, his intense gaze always able to make my eyes lock right with his, meanwhile his body slowly lowers down the bed, all the way till his head was hovering above my thighs which were being spread apart by his hands.

My thighs gave in to his touch, separating just as far enough for him to be able to have a full gaze of the dripping cunt I have on display for him, his eyes forgetting how to blink while his mouth felt a needy thirst. Next thing I knew, his head was buried between my thighs, fingers gripping onto them, while his mouth was desperately eating me out, his tongue working like a fucking magic.

"Ah... fuck... Dave—" I whimpered, my legs were shaking, I had to control them to not kick his back.

But the amount pleasure that even his fingers could give me is always such a breathtaking thing, almost as if every inch of his body were past lovers of my own, knowing damn well just how to please me as if he has been doing it for over centuries.

His lips were making out with my pussy, his nose nudging the sensitive clit, making me lose my mind a hundred times more than I originally was by the thought of recording the way he would make me feel every little chances we got ever since we started this little secret of ours.

His name seems to find it's way our of my lips again and again like a non stop prayer for him. My hand slowly reaching down to run my fingers through his hair, clutching on those gorgeous locks and pushing his face further more against me.

Every now and then, his groans would vibrate up my body, giving me goosebumps.

My back arched the moment his fingers joined in on this mischief of his. His tongue continued to work magic on my dripping hole while his thumb was rubbing my clit harshly, knowing just how much it can make me crumble.

"D-dave.."

He pulled back once he heard my voice, his thumb still circling over my clit. "Yea?" His voice was cracked and oddly raspy, out of breath from his little eating out session.

"Now.. please?"

A small sly grin was seen on his lips, his eyelashes fluttering my way, looking as pretty as ever that I just want to kiss him all over.

"Whatever the angel wants." Dave spoke as he sits up between my legs and start taking off his boxers.

The usage of that nickname never failed to bring butterflies into my stomach. Not when he literally admitted it himself that he called me "angel" because he thought I sounded like one. Him. David Scott Mustaine. The guy who just days ago compared my voice to a muppet giving birth.

I watch as his boxers was thrown aside, revealing the hard cock that has been hiding behind those fabric all these times. We've done this million times, and I'm never not enchanted by his length.

"Ready?" Dave ask as he took his cock in one hand and pumped it while his other hand held my hip.

"Please."

He looked up at that word, watching as it leave my lips and watching the look in my eyes. Showing how truly desperate I am for him. Each and every night. When we're together. Or when we're not.

Locked in his gaze, I gasp when he suddenly pushed into my entrance, filling me up at once with his lenght. Just the way he knew I loved it.

"Fuck.." I breathed out, reaching out to hold onto his back while he hold onto my hips.

Almost immediately, he started thrusting. Slow and nice at first. His cock moving back and gently pushing back in.

I watch the way his hips move, back.. and front... back.. and front, each time feeling his cock move as well in me.

Dave shook his head, leaning down to burry his face in the crook of my neck, his hands running up and down my torso, "God.. how I want to show the world how weak of a metal rockstar you got me.." He chuckled breathlessly, his lips grazing the skin of my neck.

That was when he start to move faster, getting more and more worked up as time passes on, his cock throbbing in my tight walls, needing it’s release.

The volume of my dirty noises were only increased from the way his hips pull all the way back and slam right back in, repeating his movements fast and hard like his life depends on it. In this moment, it probably was.

Pathetic moans and whimpers of his name leave my lips non stop, his own whines and groans muffled into my neck whenever I let out my voice. The way he moves in me was always something so overwhelmingly nice and pleasing, which able to distract me from the camera sitting nearby, still recording our deeds.

Dave sit straight up again, taking my hips back in his firm grasp. From that second and that look in his eyes, I knew he was taking this way more seriously now, just getting the much more dirtier side out. The love, the lust, the care, the need. It’s all seen in his beautiful hazel eyes. My walls clenched just by feeling his eyes caress my body with that intense gaze.

Almost immediately, he hold my hips still and fuck me with the speed of lightning, fucking me like there’s no tomorrow.

My eyes widens and a cry was pulled out of the back of my throat, a cry for him. “Oh fuck! Dave, yes!” My voice only encouraged him even more, groaning as he slam in and out of me, feeling my walls hugging his length tightly, a feeling I knew he loved so dearly.

”Gonna cum for me, angel? Please do..” He whispered out, still breathless till now, “I need you so much..” He was so sweet with his words. Always was. I can’t help but nod and try to utter out a yes.

The moment the tip of his cock nudged that one special spot in me perfectly well, I came undone with his length still stuffed deep in me, making him groan as he feel my release all over his cock. “Mm fuck..” I whimpered, panting.

Following close behind with his own release, Dave thrusted into me one last time before shooting his cum straight into me, painting my walls white while he slowly pull out of me, making both of us moan at the sensation of our cum dripping out of my hole.

Dave quickly grabbed the camera, aiming it to the cum that’s still dripping out of me and onto the pool of cum on the bed sheets, then up to my fucked up face. my chest heaving up and down as I continue to pant for breath.

”Words for the camera?”

My eyes look up at the lens and I tiredly grin before pulling out my middle finger at it, causing Dave to chuckle as he cut the recording, staring at the camera for awhile before he practically threw the camera aside and lay down on the bed, holding my body close to his own as our warmth combined into one.

"Naughty girl."

[ilysungho]

you did THE BEST writing the sub leehan drabble and i can't stop thinking about how ihan would be if he suddenly found out he had mommy kink...

as if you were touching him after he has been needing you all afternoon since he couldn't see you and as a result of the pleasure, out of nowhere he is calling you mommy and whining like a baby pleading for more

I think that even he would be surprised by what he says but he couldn't stop begging OH GOD IT DRIVES ME CRAZY RNNN I NEED IT

If you can do something like that I would really appreciate it 🥲🥲

pd: I really love your work, you are one of my favorite writers ily😭😭♡

a/n: you’re so sweet thank you so much for loving my work, it makes me so happy to hear that 🥹 honestly i’ve been warming up to mommy kinks (just jaehyun and taesan so far) so i tried… also this might've turned out to be way longer than intended so enjoy cutie 💗 wc: 1k contains: sub!leehan x dom!reader, implied switch!leehan, mommy kink leehan, marking, handjob, riding, penetration (p in v), unprotected sex (don't!), creampie, lowercase intended

almost a month passed by without seeing your boyfriend around. practice ran late into the night, leehan just staying at the dorms for the time being. he had to be up early, barely getting any sleep, and had no time to talk to you. so when he was able to finally finish with performances, of course he clung to you like a baby koala.

you played with his hair while softly kissing the top of his head, leehan nuzzling into you under your touch. questions and answers about how life had been got exchanged, with him closing his eyes at your voice. he found comfort in the warmth of your tone, one that he missed the sound of so dearly. and as he started to feel sleepy, his answers eventually turned into mumbles of soft hmm-s and mhm-s.

at the lack of responses, you stopped practically interrogating him, instead resorting to kissing his face. your lips touched every part of him so softly as you faced him to show your love. he smiled his signature smile, the one where his eyes scrunch into crescents, resembling the moon in a beautiful night sky. as much as he loved to make you feel special, he loved to be taken care of. so he let you do as you wanted, to help him fill up on the love he'd been deprived of.

the kisses never stopped, trailing down to his jawline as your hands reached behind his back to rub it gently. he could feel every touch to his core, slowly but surely starting to get needy for you. it was when you kissed down his neck onto his sweet spot that he said it: “mommy…”

his voice was quiet by firm, but you let go of your position to stare at him. “what did you say?”

the sudden change in the atmosphere had the two of you confused but also… excited. he was never one to call you by said term, but at the moment it felt so right. but if you didn’t like it, then he just might’ve ruined the mood…

“n-nothing, don’t worry.” his embarrassed face came on as he tried to deny in, but you took his hand to intertwine your fingers. leaning down to kiss that spot once again, you muttered, “‘s ok, say whatever you wanna.”

the indirect acceptance of the new nickname had him going. to describe it, he felt like it was the only right term to use at the moment, and he surprisingly liked how it sounded out of his mouth. but you did have to get used to it, and what better way than to have him call you so for now?

your kissing turned into marking, leaving pink hues on the pale canvas. the tug of your teeth on his sensitive skin made him whimper, scared to call you by the name again. you kept going though, wanting to hear him call you so, sucking a bit harder to leave deeper reds.

“take your shirt off baby.” you got up to take your own shirt off, him following suit. he bit his lips as you pushed him back down on the bed, going back to marking his now revealed chest. your free hand moved up to his nipples, touching over them and causing him to gasp.

you looked up at him as your lips reached down to the other nipple, kissing around it. he nervously returned the eye contact, scared for what will happen next. your mouth wrapped around it now, licking and sucking on the new territory. this had leehan squirming under you, the sensitivity hitting him at once as he moaned out once again.

“mommy…” you smirked against his chest as you played with his nipples, something he’d always do when the roles were reversed. your continued attention on his sensitive buds had him whining under you until you let go, sitting up beside him.

“come put your head here, my good boy.” leehan gasped at the nickname as he watched you pat on your lap, inching closer to obey your order. he nervously watched as you raised an eyebrow and pushed down the bra cups to show your boobs, slightly leaning down for him. “now suck.”

his tongue immediately wrapped around your nipple, hands flying to engulf you in a hug. your one hand stayed on leehan’s hair to stroke it as your other removed the rest of his clothes for him. lying naked while sucking your boobs, your leehan looked really cute while being all desperate for you. you hummed out praises for him continuously while also stroking his dick now. and every now and then, leehan would let go to let out the softest yet most exasperated sighs accompanied by calling you mommy.

“you’re being such a good boy for mommy, hanie.” smiling down at him, he hid his face between your chest while nodding, blushing at how you called yourself so. your thumb slid across his slit, hissing following suit. fingers tangled in his blond locks as you slowly rubbed him, his throat now leaving moans of desperation freely. your boyfriend jerked against your hand as he sucked your nipples once again. all the shame and shyness left his body at this point, not caring what he did or said. and all he needed was you to take control.

"mommy please, i need more..." he moaned softly while continuing his actions. a hum followed, with you moving him to get up and on top of him. your sweet smile accompanied by your not-so-sweet actions made leehan squirm under you as you held onto his dick. the slick between the two of you formed quite enough to help him ease into you, causing both lovers to gasp in unison. you moved slowly at first, bottoming out every time before getting back up and going down on him once again.

leehan whimpered as he caught onto your hand, the pleasure getting to his emotions as his eyes teared up. any and every kind of sound erupted from his chest, louder than the previous as he begged you for more. he let out hymns of "faster please mommy," "please, harder mommy, please," "mommy please," "mommy, mommy, mommy!" until he came undone in you, his seed spilling out as you kept riding his pretty cock, which is just for his mommy.

[jwonsite]

Just imagine Jungwon edging you for hours out of jealousy because one of his members were flirting with you. Like he’d ram you up for hours, not allowing you to cum until you’re begging him, sobbing your eyes out (which I’m doing rn I’m reading too much smut😭)

this was way longer than i intended for it to be LMAOOO but yeah also sorry this took so long PLS i've been so busy

jungwon x fem!reader

smut! mdni!

oh my gosh he would be so😭😭 we all know that won is such a jealous boy like, he can’t even stand when we look at other idols or have pictures of them in our phones, so i just KNOW if one of the members was flirting w you he would not be able to control himself.

like you were just hanging out with him at the dorms, the boys were all playing video games together or something when jake asked if you want to play for a round. you declined, much rather preferring to stay cuddled up onto your boyfriend, watching as he scrolled on his phone. jake insisted, heeseung joining in, saying how he wants to play with you so he could beat you. you didn’t really know how to play the game, asking jake which buttons did what. jake moved closer to you, pointing to the buttons on the controller as you sat shoulder to shoulder, even taking it as far as putting his hand over yours to help you when the game started. you could feel won’s gaze on you; well not really on you more so on his bandmate that was currently holding your hands on the controller, his face so close to yours that they were almost touching, and that’s when jungwon snapped. he got up from the chair on the side of the room walking over to you and jake, your heads both snapping up to look at him when you hear his loud sigh as he got up.

“alright that’s enough,” he would say, looking at you both with a stern look, “y/n let’s go,” he says as he grabs your arm, pulling you up from the couch, your hand dropping the controller onto the couch as your boyfriend pulled you away and into his room. you could feel the stares of all the boys on you both as you walked away, the room completely silent other than the sound of the video game still running on the tv screen. jungwon pulled you into his room, closing the door and pushing you up against it before smashing his lips onto yours, kissing you messily as his hands groped your ass. your eyes widened at the sudden kiss, but you soon wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as you rolled your crotch into his, trying to feel some friction where you needed it most. his hands moved to your waist, grabbing you to stop your movements.

“you think you get to pull a little stunt like that and still get to be all needy for me? thats not the way it works baby, you’re gonna take whatever i give you, okay?” he said while kissing down your neck. you whined, half in protest and half in pleasure but you knew he was going to do whatever he wanted no matter what you said. he moved you both to his bed, kissing down your body before pulling your pants and underwear off in one swift movement. you moaned as he kissed your thighs, wanting him to move to your pussy.

“shh baby, we wouldn’t want any of the boys to hear your pretty moans would we? then again you might like that, knowing they’re hearing how good i’m making you feel in here, knowing that they’re wishing it was them in here between your legs instead of me,” he says before kitty licking your cunt. you put a hand over your mouth trying to muffle your moans, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure. he began sucking and licking your clit suddenly, sticking his tongue inside of you every now and then. the sounds that were coming from his mouth on your pussy were so lewd, the squelching and sucking sounds resonating in his bedroom. your hand moved to tangle in his hair, tugging on it slightly as he continued his ministrations in between your legs.

“fuck wonnie im so close,” you moaned out, pulling on his hair harshly causing him to moan into your pussy, sending you closer to the edge, that was until he abruptly pulled away from you causing you to whine in frustration

“won please, i want to cum,” you cried out as he edged you for the 6th time that night, tears streaming down your face

“aww my pretty girl wants to cum? do you deserve it after letting jake flirt with you? letting him put his hands all over you?”

“yes please wonnie, please,” you cried out again, pushing his head back down to your dripping cunt

he began eating you out again, his grip on your thighs sure to leave a mark. you were finally close again, feeling the knot in your stomach threatening to come undone.

“you were such a good girl for me today baby, come on cum all over my tongue, cum for me baby,” he says sticking two fingers inside of you, pushing you over the edge. you rode out your long awaited orgasm, and then watched as your boyfriend licked up all your juices from your pussy and his fingers, coming up to kiss you after. you could taste yourself on his tongue, and it drove you insane. he laid down next to you, and you moved to lay on his chest, his arm wrapping around your figure

“you know i wasn’t flirting with him, right won,” you said with a slight pout, looking up at him with doe eyes

“i know my love, just couldn’t stand to see him all over you like that. you’re mine,” he said, bringing a hand up to caress your face before capturing your lips in a kiss

“all yours baby” you said, smiling into the kiss before laying back down onto his chest and letting sleep take over you

[kezzamjam]

Mane Six Redesign! 🌟 + Finalized Cutie Mark Redesigns!

these ponies are the only things keeping me sane during this insane time guys! hope they can help u too if you’re having a tough time^^

Some notes about their designs below if you’re interested! :D

Finally redesigned their cutiemarks! I wanted them to be as intricate as their cutie mark story! I tried to make them match my style as well, cause the originals didn’t really fit too well in my interpretations. these will probably be the ones i use from now on!

Twilight of course has her iconic blunt cut, I think the ponytail suits her straight to the point, sarcastic but loving and fun personality in the first season! her hair will slowly start to loosen into a low tied back ponytail as she learns the magic of friendship :’) if you saw my Older Mane Six Redesigns you can see what I mean! She also has birthmarks around her chest and horn! While marks are seen in Pegasi usually, they are seen in Unicorns in rare cases. When she becomes an Alicorn, creatures mistakenly think she was born a Pegasus.

I feel like Applejack, in her traditional country girl style would have a longer mane than originally! I gave her Pear Butter’s hair texture, and though she doesn’t really know how to maintain it, she keeps it long in honor of her mother. But! she does keep it braided to keep it out of the way. Vitiligo bc I think it would be common among Earth Ponies, supposedly mirroring the way sun dances on the soil.It also is what causes her freckles! Also, I made her hair similar to the shape of a bitten apple! I think it rly suits her as the CORE (pun intended) apple! :p

Fluttershy!! Shorter mane/tied up bc the animals always try to claw and tangle themselves in it. Her silhouette is meant to juxtapose Dash’s, despite their similar design choices! (ie similar length manes, tails, both pegasus ofc) this is to really emphasize the fact that Pegasi come in so many varieties! When people say she should have just been an Earth Pony makes me so sad, bc that’s the whole point! She isn’t your typical pegasus but we love her for it! Multiple pink shades in her mane to mirror Celestia, as many ponies later point out her likeness to her— I also think it’s an interesting point of what exactly is the beauty standard in Equestria! Fluttershy has often been remarked as very beautiful, and I’d like to think her similarity to the Princess is part of that. She also has hoof marks on her! All pegasi do and in rare cases, they relate directly to their future cutie mark!

RARITY MY DIVA !!!! Ofc had to give her the most luxurious mane of all. She has a curly hair type, and is arguably the only one of the Mane Six who knows how to properly care for her hair type 😭 don’t worry! she teaches her friends and it’s wonderful (i wonder who i mentioned earlier that rly needs her help…. 💎🍎…..) I wanted her to invoke the feeling of the original myths of unicorns, with their lankiness and long, flowing white coats. She was actually my first redesign all the way back in august, and the only one i haven’t changed! I love her more than anything.

Pinkie Pie was lowk the hardest for me because of her monotonous color palette 😭 but I didn’t want to change it bc she is simply!!! iconic!!!! I enjoy the designs of the original mane six and just wanted to alter elements of the designs rather then entirely recreate the characters from the ground up. She has very tight coily hair (my poc queen 🤞🤞) and decorates it with her favorite confetti! and sometimes frosting >< Gave her highlights to better see the shapes in her mane. And ofc gave her more blue accents! I think it’s so understated that she has two iconic colors in her palette and no one takes about it

And finally, Rainbow Dash! Dashie was so much fun bc I had such a clear vision for her. I wanted that sweet lightning bolt motif, both cause I think she would have a cut specifically for dazzling up her flying skills, but also to mirror AJ’s hair motifs! (for u appledashies out the ;3) and also because they’re always head to head, but rly they go hoof in hoof together and compliment their softer friends so well. Dash’s scars on her wings are from her first sonic rainboom! She was very lucky to have it heal stinger than before, and was the only filly to ever do so. Her Pegasi hoof marks are actually very plain, which is why she tattooed over them! she had them done is the same style of her cutie mark, and actually got one of her hoof wings tattooed white too. Speaking of her cutie mark, I wanted it to feel like the sonic rainboom really left an impression on her physically, dancing on her coat, forever with her :) it also, to dash’s enjoyment, is rad as heck!!

thank u for reading if u made it this far, and I can’t wait to draw these designs some more!!! x3

[he-calls-me-kitten]

Hiii I was wondering if you take requests? If you do could you pleaseee do a Lucifer and MC smut 🙏 if not it’s totally okay but I also wanted to say you are genuinely one the best writers I’ve seen you have a serious talent 🫶🫶

Aww thank you so much for your kind words 😭💕 Also ofc it's okay! Lucifer x MC smut coming right up :3

#05 Complex

Lucifer x GN! MC

You appear in the student council room at recess, following the instructions he texted you. He's already there waiting. The way he is sitting alone at the head of the table - you already know you're not here for work.

He didn't even gesture at a chair or pull one out for you. He simply pushed himself away from the table. You already know where you were supposed to sit.

"MC, I need you to revise some documents to make sure I didn't make any errors." Lies. His work has always been immaculate. He has never needed revisions.

You take your place on his lap as intended and pretend to rifle through the documents, barely scanning the titles and subjects. Meanwhile one of his hands had already made it inside your shirt, casually going back and forth on your perked up nipples.

"Lucifer...." You groaned.

"What is it? Did I miss a signature somewhere?" He made it worse by pinching it. You almost jumped. He chuckled at your reactions.

He was getting more daunting lately, claiming you anywhere and anytime. It was only a matter of time until you got caught. Sometimes you felt like he wanted to get caught.

He wanted others to see just how deeply under his spell you are, how futile their efforts are to win you over from him. His superiority complex would be the death of you.

"You're more sensitive than usual today, MC." He said with his length halfway inside you. You were trembling, bent over the desk for support like this.

"It's too open...a-and the next meeting is in 30 minutes." You knew these warnings were nothing but more of a turn on.

"Hmm...what a pity. I could have gone for much longer." Lucifer palmed your ass lovingly. "But no worries, I can still provide you plenty of pleasure with the given time."

As a busy overworked man, he was a master at the art of quickies. You learnt that from hands on experience. And now as he held down your wrists above your head and thrust into your hole at an ungodly pace, you wondered what he would have done with more time.

You tried to bite down on your uniform collar to keep yourself from moaning too loud. He kissed the side of your eyes - tears had begin to leak from sheer pleasure building up inside you. "You silenced yourself without me having to tell you - how fast you learn. I'm so... proud of you."

He was done mere minutes before the door clicked open and Diavolo and Barbatos entered.

"Ah early today as well? I'm glad I can atleast rely on you both to be punctual." Diavolo laughed blissfully unaware that Lucifer fucked you on his very chair. Lucifer nodded while squeezing your thigh under the table.

[zucchinitart]

skinty LJ 💕

finally gonna make a ref sheet for this man!! repurposing an old sketch cuz I still generally agree with the design…I actually intended to render that old sketch but never did 😭

now here’s some never-before-revealed lore and headcanons!! (this all takes place in a story I’ve never created except in my head 💀 also some have been told, I’m just reiterating them):

-This is how LJ generally looks between the years 1817 to 1886. He was “born” in 1803, stayed with Isaac for one year, got stuck in the box for 13 years, and only started wearing bandages in 1817 once he became a target to the public. As he started getting more wounds, he found out that they would open up easily and opted to wear bandages most of the time.

-He can’t eat as he lacks a digestive system. Instead, he feeds on human interaction. The more positive the interaction, the better it is for him. Because he had such a poor relationship with humans during these years, he ends up looking starved. He’s quite weak in this state, and the only thing keeping him alive is his wit and his sharp nails for weapons.

-His limbs are black right above the connection of his joints (knees and elbows). The rest of his skin is white.

-His hair would be naturally curly, but due to improper care and the long length dragging it down, it ends up looking wavy and sometimes even straight, albeit very frizzy and/or greasy.

-In 1886, that’s when LJ and Lillian first meet (omg OC and canon??? gross 😰🤢). They create a pact, and he starts getting more positive interaction with humans. As he gets more “sustenance,” his wounds start to heal properly and he gets stronger. Unfortunately, most of his wounds have scarred over at this point and they remain on his body as it’s now recognized as “healthy” tissue. (Placement of scars will be in another post)

-Lillian is 23 when she first meets LJ.

-Before his strength improved, Lillian could actually beat LJ in an arm wrestling contest!! But after about a few months of being together, that was no longer the case. (Lillian’s ego was a little hurt, but it was inevitable 😞)

-Although it looks like it, he never actually felt starved. He doesn’t experience typical feelings like hunger or fulfillment.

-Sadly, he’ll never retain his curl pattern. Lillian tries very hard to get it back as she has her own experience with her hair, but she can never get more than a few curls on his head. She gives up at some point and just accepts his wavy/straight hair as is. LJ truly doesn’t care either way. If he had his way, he’d probably forget and never wash it again.

-the dickless look is on purpose!!! No reproductive system means no dick!! Yippee, no nsfw 🤗 Unless I feel freaky, which will most definitely happen…so if you ever see him with a dick, it’s just for my own nefarious purposes 😞

-When Lillian first found out how old LJ was, she said “wow, you could be my grandpa….” LJ didn’t take too kindly to that and scolded her like a grandpa.

-His body stopped aging once Isaac died. In this version, Isaac dies at the age of 21. LJ is physically around 5 years older than Isaac, so his physical age is stuck at around 26 (but it’s not rlly trustworthy as his body isn’t comparable to a typical human’s…I’d say it’s probably between 25-35 though)

I want to get into so much lore, but I wanna save it for when I draw a comic or something. Ty for reading if you read this far!! 💕

[juliasmesmerized]

Me and You

pairings: Josh Washington x gn!reader, Mike Munroe x gn!reader requested type: two pining on an oblivious reader! summary: Mike and Josh shoot their shots on the reader while they just can't get it. vibes intended: Timeless - The Weeknd, Playboy Carti word count: 3334

REQUEST: Hii mootie ! I just saw your post so i may have an idea ? 💞 if you want ofc ! Mike and ahem my cutie pie josh fighting over reader? For her/their attention and the silly agrument went like hmm heated? 😭 not sure if u do smut so i'm sure if you're do or not- but it doesn't have to be one! Maybe yk both of them being obsessed w reader cs yk we r js their light to their darkness <33 [also if i made typos mb im really sleepy 😿💔] ALSO HAPPY NEW YEAR 🥳🎀 i hope ideas come to you ! You can ignore this take care🤍🤍 - @castielsloversblog

RESPONSE: hi pookie! happy new year!! it's so sweet of you for this and I super appreciate the ideas. I had some time off focusing on finals and I def wanted to explore other characters than just Josh. I write for everyone, yall I love them all. I got ideas as soon as I read this and asked a friend which request to do first, yours was her choice! Enjoy!

Michael's party was almost underway after a week of planning. Since it was a bunch of the group's first college frat party, Mike decided to plan Jess's, Matt's, Ash's and your first one. Sam's brows slightly furrowed; frat parties are never really chill and freshmen never attend for that reason.

Sam sat with her sketchbook. "Maybe we should have a small get together instead of a full party full of college upperclassmen." Her red coat was eye-catching for the infamous night of halloween eve.

Casa de Mike was decorated with black and orange ornaments. A full skull near the door with a sign that says 'how you doin'?'. There was red splattered around some areas with washable liquid, and LED lights placed around with the remote being Mike's phone.

Mike was setting up more decorations with Jess. "Don't worry about it, Sandiego. It'll be fine! If anything happens to the three freshmen we got them. Josh and I will be on watch." Jessica's hair was longer than usual, gold and sleek. Her purple dress didn't touch the ground, but her hair did.

Emily teased. "You sure you can handle that hair?" Emily wore a black headpiece reminiscing a swan; a corset endowed in pretty bows and a tutu skirt. Edgy black eye makeup and a soft red lip. Her hair didn't fit a bun, so she let it down.

"I better look the part! One night of long hair shouldn't be as bad as wearing heels all night." Jess spoke up as she placed a skull head on the snack counter.

Chris, looking as if he was going to save a young girl, who was immune from a virus, from dying on the operation table that could've saved the whole world. "Why is Jess even here, Mike? Wasn't it supposed to be a surprise?"

He left everything he was doing to stare at Chris. "She had to come over early to do the skull look. Ain't no way I'm doing this myself." He pointed on his face like 'duh!'. He had a skull face drawn on by the makeup artist herself and a full black outfit. A black button up and black slacks and dress shoes. With his height and build, you could see him as a one night fling.

"Riiiiight." Chris went back to checking his phone.

Jess kept going back and forth checking each of the rooms that will be available to the guests, that being the living room, walk-in kitchen, and two bathrooms. "Why is Chris here early anyway?"

"I'm punctual! Why can't we appreciate punctuality these days?" Chris crosses his arms, but lets out a chuckle.

Emily rolled her eyes jokingly. "An hour early isn't punctual, it screams 'I don't have anything else to do with my life.'"

Chris sat next to Sam. "You're not doing much over here either, Em." Sam chuckled from time to time by their conversation as she kept placing strokes onto the pages.

"I was asked by Mike to come early because I knew how to make a party. I got some decorations he could use."

"Mhm. And I am extremely jacked." Chris sarcastically chaffed.

Emily snorted. "Whatever you say, whoever you are!"

"It's from The Last Of Us!"

Emily shook her head as she rested her weight on the wall behind her "Nobody but you would know that."

Jess shouted for Mike who was across the hall. "I think everything's ready here, Mike!" She walks towards Sam; once Sam's pencil left the page, a hand swiped the sketchbook away.

Sam pouted at her younger friend's action. "Jess..!"

"Look here. She's drawing us!" Jess ushered the rest to the notebook. Everyone was dressed up and almost taking a selfie in Samantha's reimagining. Some important people are missing, but were considered by some circles.

Emily cooed as she saw herself holding a peace sign. "Awww, Sammy!" She took it off of Jess's hand to have Chris take a closer look.

His smile earnest, Chris beamed. "I look pretty cool."

Sam shyly looked away from the three complimenting her work. "I'm waiting to see the others to include them."

Jess gave Sam her sketchbook back. "Secret's safe with us!"

The doorbell rings. Sam, like clockwork, got up towards Mike. "Could I hide this somewhere safe? I didn't bring much of a bag."

"Yeah sure, follow me. Em, could you get the door?" Mike walks up the stairs with Sam behind him.

"Sure." She walked towards the door, twisting the knob just right. Her eyes befell the raggedy clothing and dull dark green skin.

An enthusiastic Matt radiated through the realistic zombie costume. "Hey Em! Didn't expect to see you at the door."

Emily stepped aside to let him in. "Woah Matt, how'd you nail the zombie look that well?"

Matthew's positive attitude changed the atmosphere that surrounded them. "I checked some tutorials online! Cool right?"

Emily smiled. "Piqued my interest for sure." She closed the door behind him. He took in the fresh changes done to Mike's place; an area he frequented before, but looked completely redone for this fun occasion.

Matt turned his head to see Jess sitting down. "Do they always go all out with these parties?"

"Frat parties? Yeah, it gets people going." Jess stood up, walking closer to Matt. They had a quick hug.

Sam and Mike came down the stairs and greeted Matt. Before he could continue surveying his surroundings further. The bell rang one more time. Mike went ahead to open the door as a good host.

You and Ashley arrived together. Josh in a separate car arrived around the same time, which had you three at the door.

Mike stepped aside for the rest to come in. "Welcome in!" He kept the door open as a few others began to gather parking outside his suite.

You had a pirate ensemble on, fitting the halloween theme. Ashley's face was highlighted by fawn features; the pretty white spots surrounded by light brown, a light wing on her eyes, the contouring on the nose with the white dots, and a special fawn headband. She wore a short brown dress with white gloves. Her brown boots perfectly cemented the deer getup.

Matt spoke up as he greeted Ashley. "Ash, you look amazing!"

"Thank you, Matt! So do you!" She responded, but all of that drowned as Mike came to greet you first.

He definitely glanced over to fully take you in; top to bottom. "Nice costume you got on. Very coastal."

Joshua walked up next to you. "Thanks Mike, so do you!" You had a smile creep up your lips due to the compliments you've gathered so far and the night barely began. It started with Ashley, then Josh, and now Mike.

Emily looked around. "Where are Han and Beth?"

Josh's demeanor never changed. "They asked to come in a separate car, Hannah's been practicing how to drive. Something about keeping their costumes a surprise from everyone."

Sam recalled all close interactions with the twins. Hannah purposefully kept her mouth zipped, even if she could never hide anything from Sam. Beth was more relaxed about everything, and can hide a few things. "Right, Han never even told me her costume."

"That's interesting. They'll also be the only high schoolers here, keep 'em safe." Josh looked around towards everyone, knowing they'll be a helping hand. They loved pranking each other, but when it came to safety; it was no joke.

A few nods and notes of agreement came from the entire group. The doorbell kept ringing until the place was filled with college students ready to start the weekend off with a bang.

Hannah and Beth entered in completely differing outfits. Hannah went for Emily from Corpse Bride and Beth decided to go Raven from the DC comics.

You greeted everyone and began to drown into the crowd and the ongoing party. There was dancing, conversation, the loners, people jumping into the swimming pool, and drinking; which you couldn't even tell if it was legal.

You decided to head outside for a breather and dip your feet into the water. Before you could fully slip away, Josh took your hand and moved you towards the hallway near the bathrooms.

His smile, gleaming as ever. He decided to have a square voice changer that could be attached to his shirt. The white shirt and jeans outfit was simple to the naked eye, but with the drawn on blood stain and fake knife, you could tell it was from a slasher film. The iconic line of his would go: What's the matter Sidney? You look like you've seen a ghost.

Instead, he goes on elsewhere. "You enjoying the party so far?"

"Yeah, it's definitely new, but nice. It feels you might drown into the crowd any second." You smiled at his attentive nature.

He nodded. "Right, you gotta just get your footing." Your eyes gaze at the square microphone at his collar and he realizes.

Josh takes it off and clicks a button. His voice was augmented as it came out of the machine. "You know, it works." Your eyes sparkled at the interaction.

You looked into his eyes and back at his hand holding the mic. "That's such attention to detail! Amazing!" The astonishment never truly left your face even when Jess called out to Josh.

Jess tapped on his shoulder and looked up to see him. "I need you for something."

"You good, Jess? What's up?" He looked genuinely concerned for a moment. She wasn't one to ask for Josh out of everybody.

She gave a slight smile at his care. "Just a few minutes of your time." He followed her as they walked off, and you were alone once again. You walked outside to see a cooler with a bunch of drinks. Walking up to it, looking into the different choices, you were stumped.

"I'd say it's too early for a drink." The familiar voice had you turn around to Mike. His hazel eyes stared into you with intensity. "We'll be here all night you know."

You cross your arms at him, amused at his conversation. "You're saying I shouldn't party hard and get wasted?"

He chuckled at how far you took it. "I'm just saying a pirate should be stealing hearts, not taking shots."

Going with his flow, you think of a good response. "Whose heart is on the market to be stolen? I don't see any, personally." You point towards the multitude of couples at his place.

He smiled. "You'd be surprised-" He was cut off by another friend.

Chris cries out from behind you and Michael. "MIKE! Mike! Mike!"

Mike turns around to respond. "Yeah, Chris?"

He points back into the crowd. "A girl puked and I don't know what to do? Come with me let's carry her somewhere. She's unconscious in one of the bathrooms."

Michael groans. "I gotta take care of that, see you."

"Of course, take your time. Enjoy." By this point, Mike gave his back to you. He raises his hand to salute and says back: "not going to enjoy it!"

You chuckle at his response, even if he groans and complains; as anyone would, he still would get the job done wholeheartedly. The party is ever-so slightly going harder. People are making out, sleeping on the floor, jumping to the beat, anything you could imagine was happening.

Going back inside, without a drink. The conversation with Mike took your mind off of it; probably for the best. The song playing was something you used to listen to at times, known to be a cult classic at clubs and parties. It was getting to the good part.

Fresh out the trench, four hundred packs Uh, yeah, I'm spinnin' in Paris

Josh creeped up from behind you. "You should try the dance floor." His smile, filling you with comfort and excitement, had you eager to try something new. There was some space at the designated area; the living room where the sofas were placed away from the wooden floor. He put out his palm for you to grab.

Dress for these hoes, they finna flock Just poured a four in a soda, it pop

You smiled at his gesture, and take his hand. "Why not? I love this song." Sam kept eyeing the two of you as you held his hand. Hannah and Beth could be seen whispering to each other. The eerie feeling chilled your spine, but you ignore it in pursuit of trying something new at this new experience.

Them drugs finna hit, I'm feelin' ill I'm wrestlin' all of my demons, I feel like The Rock

The lights flashed random strong colors at semi-long intervals, blue, red, green, purple, orange. The crowd interested in the song jumped to the beat and chanted the lyrics. You and Josh join them. The beat was about to drop. Everyone was colorfully assorted in costumes and embroidery to show off their favorite characters, mastery in creation and design, and just having fun with outfits.

Ever since I was a kid, I been legit If I was you, I would cut up my wrist

The song moves you and Josh follows you. In your element, you don't realize his hands echoing your hips. Eyes closed, feeling the moment and everything surrounding it slow down. Only you, Josh, and the music mattered.

XO tatted all over her body, yeah She just wanna roll and I don't mind it, yeah

Your costume flowed alongside you, the golden chains and belt moved with you, and Josh was taking all of you in. Regardless of how much of a bad dancer you could've been, it felt natural and the confidence showed. Mike glanced at you, already whisked away before he could've done anything.

Ever since I was a jit, I been legit You should let her go, she wanna be it

Josh looked at Mike, knowing the situation they were both in while mouthing the lyrics. Gritting his teeth, Michael put his weight against the wall, leg up, and arms crossed. Planning his next move, as Josh and you continued to the song.

You smiled to Josh as the song calmed down. "Thanks for calling me up here." You still had energy, but the climax of the song has ended.

Joshua effused; still trying to keep cool. "Of course, I knew you'd enjoy your time."

"Have you?" You raised an eyebrow towards his sincerity.

His blue eyes locked onto yours. "With you? Of course I would."

You chuckle to his seemingly disingenuous response. "You'd say that to everyone."

He bantered alongside you. "You wound me! I can have special moments with special people." His right was on his heart and his left hand was on his forehead, his eyes were closed, looking especially dramatic.

You rebutted, seeing him flirt with Sam and Jess quite often. "Yeah, when you don't flirt with every girl you know!" You and Josh both know flirting with Jess, recently single, was more of a joke. If she gets a guy, she wouldn't let Josh even have an inch of a chance to try.

Mike was getting more pissed as he saw you laughed with another guy, even if that was your mutual friend. The idea of you laughing with a friend was innocent enough, but he knew this guy has it in for you also. He hated it; despising the fact you couldn't be the one to focus on him as they were both pining for you.

There wasn't much you could do, he knew that. He knew you wouldn't get out of your comfort zone and do anything like that. You all were friends, and he understood. Josh also thought the same in regard, which pushes them both to pursue you more aggressively. As a board game would go, each of the guys took turns with trying to get you.

Using their wingmen as chess pieces to get you alone, they strike at different times. He couldn't have Jess call Josh out while you guys were dancing, and when he finally had the chance to, you both were done. Michael's train of thought has clashed as he saw Josh make a move. His finger brushed your cheek. His clenched his fist at the sight.

They both agreed not to make a serious move until you figure yourself out. Everyone knew about it at this point, the staggering looks, the whispers, Jess and Chris, everything was calculated. Until Joshua ruined the deal and Michael had to deal with that, alone. Joshua would have to rave the consequences as well, alone.

Without much thought, Mike was already holding Josh's hand away from your face. "Not going to cut it man."

Josh, looking puzzled, responded to Mike. "Yo, dude, what's going on?" You stepped aside from them, knowing that Mike was not happy and you wanted nothing to do with it.

Mike's facial expression was relaxed, but his stare didn't let up at all. "You know what's going on. You disregarded what we agreed on." Everyone who caught onto the situation surrounded them and almost pushed you back from the suspense and itching tension.

You squeeze through them regardless and hold your head high to see everything.

"You can't just claim the situation however you want. How long are we just gonna sit here and verbally shoot our shots? Some people fall after physical encounters."

He shook his head, more forcefully this time. His tone went deeper as he tried to hammer in his point of view. "That doesn't matter. We agreed on something, Josh. Don't fuck with me."

"You're too scared to shoot your shot, don't blame it on me. That was your doing, I took that grace period with you and now we can BOTH do what we want until she takes a stand."

A clenched fist flew into Josh's face. His right cheek, now bruised and red, turned away. "Fuck you, Mike." He held onto Mike's black collar and took his left hand to swing at him. The punch landed on Mike almost immediately.

The chants of "Fight" grew repetitive and loud. As the fight got more heated, more people covered your vision. After crawling out of the situation you were put in, you find Josh on top of Mike. Josh was landing punch after punch while Mike defended himself. You were beside yourself, this felt too much to bare and your eyes widened at the scene. You ran towards them.

They were both in the wrong, you know that. Neither of them should've had this escalate to this, but nothing could be done now but to stop them both from hurting each other further. Josh had a bloody nose, Mike got a black eye, the injuries on them both were never ending.

You screamed. "Stop this!"

Not that it did anything. Blinded and drowned by the current moment, Mike got the energy to push Josh off of him and began to get on the offense. Before his hit could land, Chris grabbed Josh away and Matt put his hands under Mike's arms and pulled him away.

Chris looked over towards both of his friends. His tone more sincere than it was the entire night; feeling stern. "She asked you guys to stop. Stop this."

Sam began damage control immediately. "Show's over everyone. Go home." Beth began helping her out in swaying people to drop the situation. De-escalating something this heated would never be easy or even fully fulfilled, but Samantha definitely had to try.

Hannah, Emily, and Jessica had nothing to do with helping the scene, instead Hannah was frozen in shock of Michael's newfound discreet confession. Emily and Jessica were silently eating up the whole ordeal; two guys fighting over someone? Yeouch! This sounded like a good Friday night to them!

Once everyone cleared up, Josh immediately headed on. Silently glad that Hannah and Beth had their own separate ride. No one could've even silently checked on him on the side, for he was already gone.

IM BACK BAYBEEEEEEEE! Thank you so much for reading this! I definitely enjoyed this request, please send some more! I have more to write later on, and I definitely have ideas for. I haven't forgotten them, but I got overworked with finals and I couldn't get really good ideas, there was one request I made three separate ideas for, but finally decided on one. •ᴗ•

[sungiejpg]

WHY ME?; na jaemin [smau]

17. the worst nightmare + written (after each 3 photos!)

𓂃⊹pairing: jaemin x f!reader

𓂃⊹tags: college au, enemies to lovers, smau, humour, reversed trope

𓂃⊹synopsis: he is known as the nicest guy on the faculty who gets along with everyone, well…maybe not everyone

𓂃⊹warnings: suggestive messages/topics

ignore how bad the narration might be 😭 I didn’t have enough time.

“So, Jaemin,” Y/n and Jisung’s mother called him while he was finishing preparing the table with Jisung’s help, he already had a bad feeling regarding the conversation. “Did you see that my big baby finally got a boyfriend?” She said smiling, Jaemin already knew their mother always wanted Y/n to get into a relationship. Bingo.

“Oh, they are not dating,” Jaemin clarified while trying not to sound pissed off about the topic. Although, why would he get pissed off, it’s not like he cares.

“Not yet,” their mother replied, still smiling. Jaemin loved that woman, she always treated him like a son, but this exact day he wasn’t that fond of her.

“Mom! Please don’t say that when Y/n comes,” Jisung jumped in the conversation trying to shush his own mother, something that made Jaemin appreciate him even more.

“I know I know”, she repeated, “but wouldn’t that be cute?” she asked while looking at Jaemin and completely ignoring her own son, who was pretending to vomit.

“Haechan is not cute,” Jaemin replied, trying to maintain his composure. But again, he doesn’t care if they date, does he?

“Aw, our Jaeminnie,” she screamed. “Always taking care of my kids,” their mom said while pinching his cheeks. He just smiled awkwardly.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom then,” Jaemin said, exiting the room as a way to end the conversation and forget about it forever if possible.

No later than 4 mins you came, not without praying internally Jisung wasn’t already dead because of a spider or something, since you took longer than intended.

“Mom?” you asked when you saw your mother smiling standing in your kitchen and a kinda scared Jisung next to her. Well, not more than yourself, you could already tell what the topic of the night was going to be. “What are you doing here?”

“Aw my baby! I missed you so much” she screamed, running to hug you, which you reciprocated. “I came here since it’s been long since I last saw you and I wanted to have dinner with my two babies”.

“And?” You asked, already sensing what she was going to say.

“and I also invited someone special for dinner too,” she finally said after breaking the hug, Jisung smiling awkwardly, or scared, next to her. Kill me now, you thought, knowing it was going to be your biggest nightmare these days.

“Mom, don’t tell my is Jaemin, please.” Although you could already tell it was going to be him.

“He is already here, he went to the bathroom,” Jisung replied instead, still maintaining a nervous smile, which made you even more nervous.

“But I meant someone special for you,” your mom answered. Oh yeah, exactly, why would Jaemin be special to you. Wait, you thought, no way.

“Don’t tell me is…” But you weren’t able to finish your sentence since your doorbell rang, showing your biggest nightmare, fuckass Lee Haechan. Jisung is so dead, you thought.

“Hi family!” Haechan greeted everyone, not without smirking when he saw your face. And if things couldn’t get worse, it was at that moment when Jaemin came back from the bathroom and looked confused at you two. Jisung is so so so so dead.

“Well,” you said while putting your phone down after your mother and jisung left, not without her pinching Jaemin’s cheeks and saying he should go see her soon. You still don’t know how that even happened, since when was he that close?

“It’s been long since we last talked properly, only both of us,” Jaemin said, trying to make the situation less awkward. Who would have told you two months ago that you would be awkward with Jaemin, not because you hated him, but because you wanted him…

“I don’t think this counts,” definitely not awkward at all. Both of you were still in the corridor next to the door.

“So Haechan and you, huh?” he said while getting a bit closer to you, sounding a bit pissed off. Why would he? Maybe because Haechan was his friend?

“Not you too, I would rather light myself on fire than date him” quite literally. You even thought about doing it while your mom was trying to set both of you up during the dinner. Also poor Jisung, who had to listen to all of that.

“Hey, he’s still my friend,” Jaemin joked while smirking and still getting closer to you. If he kept doing that you would jump on him and bite his head off, out of excitement, not hatred. “Is he that bad?”

“Well, he isn’t I guess” you sincerely replied, “but I don’t like him, romantically I mean.” That coming off way more awkward than you intended since Jaemin was way closer than before.

“Romantically? So,” he said still getting closer, he smelled like vanilla, of course he did. “So do you like someone?”

“Maybe?”

One second he is smirking and the next second his tongue is tangled with yours, making your heart rate increase. Maybe this is where you die. After what felt like an eternity, he pulling back from the kiss and looking at you confused, as if he wasn’t the one initiating it. However, both of you heard the sound of keys.

“Well, bye,” he blurted out as soon as he heard Jisung out of the flat, opening the door.

“What do you mean by well bye?” You screamed, but he already left half running, leaving Jisung and you confused. What the fuck just happened.

“What’s going on? He didn’t even take his jacket with him,” Jisung mumbled, but you didn’t listen to that, too busy trying to grasp the situation.

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