#lol I said this before and I will say it again

[hurlingdown]

                     DRESS . . . TO IMPRESS ?

synopsis. in celebration of the most wonderful time of the year, the one piece men have prepared extra special gifts for you. zoro, law, luffy, ace.

tags. dom! reader, implied top! reader. christmas fluff, crossdressing, big muscly men in skimpy skirts, law in a nurse outfit, lingerie, heavy petting, dirty talk, kissing, horribly written crack (i inserted my humour into this), mentions of sex, fingering, cock-warming, rimming etc, don’t read this seriously, it gets progressively worse, spending the holiday season with them <3

a/n. this is my christmas gift to the one piece fandom. enjoy lol.

“merry christmas,” zoro grunted, and you felt a little dizzy from the overwhelming endorphin rush that went straight to your head and somewhere else. 

because this… this was something you would have never anticipated for a christmas gift. this was zoro you were talking about. the epitome of stoicism. had he been just… pretending all along? you would’ve expected something like an earring, maybe, to match his three. a love letter was simply out of the question… though a bouquet of poinsettias wouldn’t be over the top, if he had consulted nami in the first place. but this? this was just… breath-stealing. 

you watched as your lover rolled onto his stomach in his scanty outfit to show off the crystal pink plug that he had stuffed into his puffy rim, shooting you a coy glance over his shoulder. “well?” he hummed. “do you like it, babe?” 

“yeah,” you breathed out. “i love it. you look gorgeous. i think… i think i just fell in love with you all over again.”

he coughed, a blush rising to his cheeks, and yeah, this was something you were more familiar with—not the balmy heat shrouding your face, the dry crawl of your throat whenever you so simply looked at him, the hint of sweat building at your temples at the thought of doing nasty, sinful things to him. 

was he even real? were you dreaming? you better not be, because this was a meal you were going to spend your good time ravishing. 

“well, merry christmas to you, too,” you murmured lowly, climbing onto the bed after him, and he bit his lip with a shiver, raising his hips slightly to present you your christmas gift. you wasted no time in laying your hands on him, squeezing at the skin-tight fabric over his luscious thighs, giving his cushiony ass a small slap before smoothing over the warm ache. 

“gonna eat you out until you’re wet and sore, baby,” you told him, “and then i’m going to finger you while we binge watch shitty christmas movies together on the couch.” you licked your lips, pretending to think about what you were going to say next. “actually... might as well have you cockwarm me while we’re at it. and once we’re done with that, i’m gonna put it in your slutty hole and fuck you ‘til you start crying, okay?” 

“and after that too,” zoro mumbled, shifting onto his back and pulling you down for a soft, wet kiss that sent butterflies roaring in your stomach. 

TRAFALGAR LAW

“traf, sweetheart, have you seen my—oh.” 

“get. out.” 

“what are you wearing…?” 

“are you deaf? i said get out!” 

“hold on, okay? it’s not like i haven’t seen you naked before! just… is that a nurse uniform?”

but this was different from being naked. this was far more embarrassing. law looked at you with narrowed eyes, tone sharp with accusation that bordered on hurt. “what? you don’t like it?” he nervously bit his lip, pulling down his skirt and squeezing his legs together as though it would hide the very obviously aroused state of his crotch. 

“i do! how could i not? you haven’t even let me say anything yet!” you swallowed, feeling saliva seep into your mouth at the erotic sight before you. “you look so fucking hot, you have no idea. i love it, traf. i love it so much—” 

“okay, okay, i get it.” he huffed with feigned irritation, a small breath of relief escaping him as he shyly glanced at the floor, hands still clutching at the fabric of his dress. “m-merry christmas.” 

you took a few tentative steps forward until you stopped in front of him, and he frowned and turned away, heat rising to his cheeks. “don’t look at me like that. it wasn’t my idea, just so you know…” he swallowed when you put your hands on his bony hips and squeezed, subtly exploring the rest of his outfit with your eyes, and he sighed, relaxing a little. “hey, say something…” 

“sorry,” you chuckled, meeting his gaze again. “you’re just… beautiful. i love you. i love the fit. it looks so good on you… thank you for the christmas gift, love.” 

“and where’s mine?” he said, attempting to distract you from the deep flush on his cheeks. he slung his arms loosely around your neck, giving you an almost pouty look, to which your heart clenched at. “... don’t tell me you didn’t bring me one.” 

“oh, but i did.”

. . . you swore you tried so hard. but you could feel it creeping up on you, like a silhouette, surreptitiously tugging at the corners of your lips. fuck it. you just couldn’t hold back your smirk. you thought you were just absolutely brilliant, coming up with this idea of a gift. you knew he would love it. you just knew. 

“eyes on me, baby.”

maintaining sensual eye contact with him, you gently laced your fingers with his, pressing each of his knuckles to your lips in tender kisses. then, with a gentle smile, you guided his hand down, slowly, slowly, until it was fully pressed against the front of your trousers, right where the zipper was. you nudged your hips towards the cup of his palm, faking a moan.

“there’s your gift,” you murmured seductively, and watched giddily as his golden eyes widened in shock and arousal before a sharp, splitting pain on the side of your face knocked you out. 

“pervert!”

you laughed victoriously as you went down. like he wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black with that cute little outfit of his.

MONKEY D. LUFFY

“merry christmas!” you heard a deafening guffaw before something crash-tackled you from behind, and you fell onto the floor in a heap of rubbery limbs. 

“luffy!” you choked out a laugh as your lover wrapped himself around your ribs, still unwilling to let go. “baby, i can’t breathe.” 

“oh. sorry!” he retracted his arms and legs, getting off you with a spring. you sat up, and that’s when you saw what he was wearing. a cute christmas skirt and matching leggings, and he looked so ridiculously adorable you had to do a double take. he frowned at your flabbergasted expression, leaning in to inspect your face. “huh? did i break you? i promise, i didn’t mean to hit you that hard! wait, why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” 

he pat your head, as though that would fix things. you squinted at his carefree smile. hold on. what the absolute shit. was that lipstick? 

“luff,” you took a deep breath, trying to steady your heartbeat. “who dressed you up?” 

“nami, duh,” he sung, giving you a little twirl to show off the fit. you already knew the answer—you just had to double confirm. crap. just how much money did you owe her now? a thousand berri? two thousand? to be fair, for this quality of work, you’d pay her a fortune. “nami said you’d like it. well? d’you?” 

“yeah,” you murmured, half in awe, half in devastation, because this was a really bad time to get horny if luffy wasn’t in the mood. “you look really pretty, baby. i love it a lot.” you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will away the horny. but it was just so hard to stop being horny all of a sudden. every time you closed your eyes, all you could envision was the horny: him in that skimpy christmas skirt, a bright flush on his cheeks, sprawled out on the bed underneath you… 

the soft press of lips against your cheek made your eyes shoot open. “huh?” 

the red colour on his lips was now slightly smudged, and you raised your hand to gently touch your now stained cheek in realisation. “oh…” 

“you looked consti- constipated sittin’ there!” luffy explained, in a much louder voice than usual, a thick blush covering his face. “i had to, y’knoow, help you out… in case you were having a hard time…” 

and well, there goes your horny.

PORTGAS D. ACE

“darling! you’re home!” you watched as your lover clumsily hobbled out of the bathroom, swathed in the most colourful gift-wrapping paper you had ever seen from chest to heel. “merry christmas!” 

you blinked. were you seeing things? “ace, honey,” you started, slowly, with a laugh. “know that i’d love it either way, but… are you supposed to be my gift?” 

“well, yeah, sort of.” he grinned, trying to make his way over to you in awkward steps. he winked, keeping himself just out of arm’s reach when you tried to pull him into a kiss. “just watch. you might even be surprised.” 

he raised a finger mischievously, and you watched as the tip of it caught on fire. he continued smiling his infamous ‘up-to-no-good’ grin, carefully bringing the small flame near his clothed chest. you raised your eyebrows, unsure, because as much as he was immune to fire, the gift-wrapping probably wasn’t... and the furniture in your house definitely wasn’t. 

“watch…” ace stressed with a hush, dramatically pressing his blazing finger onto the wrapping paper, to which it burnt a hole right through, orange flames immediately clinging on to the circular edges, rapidly widening the puncture. soon, his entire so-called ‘outfit’ was on fire, and you were starting to get alarmed when an eye-catching dark red slowly emerged from the burgeoning flames, strapped right across his chest. 

you choked. was that… a bra? 

“ta-da!” he shouted, opening his arms in full display with what could only be described as pure mirth. “fireproof lingerie!” 

what the fuck. you stood there, gaping, unwilling to believe. the rest of the flames gradually died down, revealing a gorgeous pair of red lace lingerie that hugged his crotch and chest in all the perfect areas, showing off his muscled figure, broad in the shoulders but tight in the waist, with thick hips and strong thighs. you could feel yourself salivating post-shock. 

“baby, you look really, really sexy, but…” you began, swallowing down your laughter. “forget it. why am i even surprised at this point?” ace grinned, albeit a little more sheepish than usual, rubbing at the back of his neck as you checked him out unabashedly. “ah, damn it. you look like a whole feast. i’m going to have a hard time keeping my hands off you tonight…” 

“ain’t that the purpose,” ace purred, shooting you a naughty glance through his lashes. “come and get me, hot stuff. and hey, guess what? we won’t have to worry about me accidentally burning my clothes off this time.” 

and needless to say, the both of you had a very merry christmas that night, indeed.

masterlist!

MERRY CHRISTMAS! SORRY IF YOUR BONER DIED 💓🫶

[aldisobey]

Food for thought. Maybe off topic, but I was military. You’re known by title and last name so often in an environment like that, and I feel that might be similar in a collegiate environment? I find Emmrich’s insistence on being called by his first name when joining the Veilguard so endearing.

Like yes, he’s Professor Volkarin there at work, at his job. But here comes Rook and the Veilguard and from the start he wants to engage as equals. Not be some outside aide or expert they’re calling on from the Mourn Watch. He’s a part of this, and desperate for connections outside what he’s known as. He’s trapped by the dressings of esteemed professor in his home. Maybe that’s a reason he never found that true love.

Think of the prestige of his position, the rarity of corpse whispering, his distaste for nobles. It’s likely some Nevarrans have tried to use him and his desire for intimacy and romance to advance their own interests. No wonder he’s deep in the Shrouded Halls doing work alone. My exceedingly rich uncle would bemoan that he never knew if someone was really his friend, if they really liked him, or if they just wanted his resources and wealth and material he had to offer. He was ruined by desperate loneliness.

Apply that to everything Emmrich has to offer Nevarrans and the Mourn Watch, he’s a necromancer on the path to something as rare as lichdom. Are his peers real friends? Can they be real love? Has he had any real connection or was he the gifted orphaned that was taken advantage of young and detached as the reality of his situation settled?

Maybe I need to go over the dialogue more. But you’ll note Hezenkoss even calls him Volkarin (and you’ll note he calls her Johanna, he’s reaching out), and that makes sense, my old military friends still default to my last name. It’s familiar and dropping the title was comfy enough. But when you’re only known by that title and last name? When you never hear your name like it’s love?

Sure he joined the Veilguard because of what he has to offer, but on this team everyone is bringing unique and vital skills to the table, he’s not alone. And he wants to be just Emmrich. What a breath of fresh air it must’ve been to be truly seen and eventually known. No wonder he can fall so hard so fast for Rook. He finally gets to be Emmrich. Not the Professor.

[luvdsc]

aaaa thank you so so much for reading my fic and leaving the nicest feedback, honey bee !!!! 🐝✨

also, can you pls tell me what Basement Yard reference you’re talking about? 🤧 I know it’s a podcast but I don’t listen to it, and a couple of my friends have mentioned it before in conversation and I based this fic heavily off of irl experiences from myself and friends, so I feel like that’s where I would’ve gotten it from! but because none of my irls know I write, I can’t ask them about it 🧍🏻‍♀️ but I would really love to listen to that part of the podcast if you remember 🥹

and YES !!! I’m so glad you caught the references to the duff and crazy rich asians 💕 I wanted to reference different rom coms that included some sort of makeover, like cinderella (the fairy tale references), she’s all that (am i a joke to you vs am i a bet when she confronts him), the duff (tutoring in exchange for makeover), crazy rich asians (being enough and yes just as you said, she is how he got there), princess diaries (when mia said michael saw her when she was invisible, meanwhile jaemin was the complete opposite), she’s the man (there was the gouda reference lol and jaemin was teaching her how to get haechan to like her, like how viola was teaching duke for olivia) 🌼

yes, unfortunately, jaemin is incredibly dumb and egotistical in this 😔 he’s a culmination of the many awful experiences and things irl men have said or done, and so are his friends 💀 but I thought yn should get the closure and apology she deserved in the end and see him grovel because a lot of us don’t get that irl, and we would at least get it in fiction this way 🤧

thank you so much again, sweetpea !! 💕 and actually, this was the prequel to my other fic called pussy blocked for jeno, which I’d say is similar to this one !! There are references and connections between the two 💞 another fic I have called august for yangyang is within the same universe and is not as heavily connected as pussy blocked, but you see some hints of him in barbie girl, which will be in that fic as well !! 🌷

barbie girl.

if life is plastic (and therefore, nonbiodegradable), then it’s so not fantastic. honestly, who came up with that? regina george really should’ve googled about the new plastics economy.

or alternatively, pretty girls rule the world, and you find out that he’s (not) all that.

pairing :: na jaemin x reader genre :: comedy, fluff, angst ⋮ makeover + college au word count :: 24,618 words warnings :: body issues, body image, weight mentions, insecurities, beauty is a social construct, [spoiler] did something bad, people being literal scum, so much gaslighting that you can start a wildfire and j*ke gyll*nh*al should take notes, “if a man talks shit then i owe him nothing” playlist :: pretty boys (romi) ⋆ you can’t sit with us (sunmi) ⋆ i just wanna know (katherine li) ⋆ lie to girls (sabrina carpenter) ⋆ look what you made me do (taylor swift) ⋆ leftover feelings (regina song) ⋆ number one girl (rosé) + extended playlist here. author’s note :: she’s all that is one of my most favorite rom coms ever, but i’ve always been ///: at the whole makeover idea and decided to write my own version !! the idols mentioned in this fic are just characters, and how i portray them in this fic do not reflect how i actually view them or their irl personas. as always, much love to miss lana and miss moon for being my biggest cheerleaders ᥫ᭡ ↳ part of the 𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔲𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 collaboration series.

i. hiya, barbie! hi, ken!

Na Jaemin does not know that you exist.

Good looking, charismatic, and popular — it’s his world, and you’re just living in it. Or something like that. You’re decently smart, somewhat funny, and not pretty enough to stand out, but not exactly hideous according to societal standards (source: those beauty quizzes in Seventeen magazine that you used to be obsessed with when you were thirteen and in desperate need of flirting tips). If he was the main lead, you’d probably be Extra #6, maybe Extra #2 on a good day.

By your calculations, the two of you should never cross paths, like two parallel lines. Wait, scratch that, you would probably never be aligned with anything that has to do with this guy. You saw him standing outside of the door of your shared accounting classroom during your fall semester, and he spent twenty five minutes editing his picture for Instagram and ended up late for the lecture. And he probably already spent even more time selecting the final photo to edit before you arrived to class and noticed him. Absolute idiot. Absolute handsome idiot, but idiot nonetheless. A grade A himbo with a grade C in financial accounting. 

Okay, so scrap the parallel lines theory, maybe skew lines are a better way of explaining it. Yeah, that seems about right, the two of you are from completely different dimensions, never meant to interact or run parallel with each other. And once again, by this logic, your paths should never cross.

“Y/N!”

You stand corrected.

Na Jaemin does know that you exist.

Keep reading

[kingkat12]

chasing sleep (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, morning sex, attempting-to-stay-quiet sex, Roman loves tits (oops), reader on top, dub-con elements, needle-gate is back lol, dark!Roman returns, fluff, angst, and reader is fucking brainwashed cause girl stand up for yourself wdym

summary: everything seems to be going perfect for you-- you've got the guy, after all. however, you're still haunted by the life you gave away to be with him, and specifically, the girl you left behind. will Roman ever fully trust that you won't leave him?

word count: 11,308 (merry christmas tihi)

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

a/n: celebrating 700 followers AND christmas with this monster of a chapter!! I love all of you, thank you once again for your amazing support, I LOVE YOU!! this fanfic is nearing the end now, so... hold on tight for what's about to come;) ENJOY, MWAH<3

"You didn't say goodbye, and now a part of me believes that means you're coming back,"  

Over and over again, those words echoed in my ears. I had read it in a passage somewhere, probably in the new romance novel I had picked up a few days ago, and now it truly haunted me. Latched onto my guilt, my love, my very being-- I wasn't sure whether I was capable of letting it all go, despite how happy Roman made me. 

Was that maybe why I ended up right here, right now?

"Do you think it could work again?" Letha echoed, turning to me. Her legs were dangling off my roof as we sat by the edge. A soft breeze moved her long, blonde hair away from her shoulders, and just like that, I was reminded of how truly beautiful she was. It must be a genetic thing for all the Godfreys to be breathtaking. However, the look in Letha's green eyes told me something was wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on it. It was almost as though I was looking back at her with a grey-ish filter, like my vision was making it seem like we were sitting in a cloud of fog. None of this looked real. 

"What could?" I asked, turning to check my surroundings-- yeah, this was definitely my roof. Why were we here?

"Us," Letha's gaze awaited me as I faced her again, and it was heartbreakingly sad. "You and I. Our friendship."

It felt like I had dipped the tips of my fingers in cold water. "Letha... Come on," I reached for her hand, placing mine above hers with a sigh; "This ended a long time ago. I don't think we can salvage this--"

"But what if we could?" Letha's voice was so painfully sweet, so insistent. "Do you think it could work again?"

"What could?"

"Us," she breathed, turning her hand to intertwine our fingers with an unusually hard grip. It didn't feel so sweet anymore. "You and I. Our friendship."

The red lights in my mind went off like police sirens-- something was off. With my next glance at her hair, it was no longer that same warm shade of blonde. Now, I could argue it was actively turning white before my eyes. 

This wasn't real. "Letha?"

"Yes?"

"... Am I dreaming?"

Letha's eyes softened as the green in them dulled down, bordering a bleak color of grey. "Yes," she said. "I'm looping it until you're honest."

"What do you mean?--"

"You'll wake up when you tell me the truth. If you want to help your subconscious let go of the guilt, you should do it,"

My heart was actively breaking. Looking into Letha's blank eyes, I realized it reminded me of the look she had on her face when I first told her about Roman and me. "Ask, then,"

I could see her emotions clutching her soul like an unforgiving fist despite this only being a dream. My head didn't have any problems conjuring the image of her as a kicked, wounded puppy. She spoke; "Do you think it could work again?"

I indulged with a soft sigh; "What could, Letha?"

"Us," she said, allowing tears to well in her eyes. "You and I. Our friendship."

I felt it truly, brutally, that I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if it would break me to be honest. "I can't leave Roman for you," I breathed. "I won't. So I doubt you and I could be friends again as long as I'm still with him."

Letha nodded, turning away to look up at the full moon above us. The hand she had in mine was starting to turn cold. "Do you think it could work again?"

Oh, she was asking again-- was my answer maybe not the truth? Not the right answer? Did my sleeping subconscious know? "What could?" I echoed, growing tired of the loop we were caught in.

"Us," Letha closed her eyes as her chest raised and fell with her shallow breaths. "You and I. Our friendship."

I decided to give it less thought-- that was the key, sometimes. Roman had taught me that. Could it? Could it truly? "Honestly?"

"Honestly,"

It didn't take long before I realized tears were threatening to spill from my eyes too. I had missed the smell of Letha's sweet perfume. It smelled like home and a comforting hug hello. "Yeah. I think it could work," It was weird to hear me say it out loud; "I was always in love with Roman, but you... You taught me how to love in the first place. If we could both forgive each other, I think we'd have a chance. Yet... I don't think I ever can. Fully."

Letha didn't open her eyes, barely moved an inch. She opted for a short, melancholic nod as her lower lip gave in to a tremble. "I'm afraid I'll miss you forever," she whispered, mostly to herself. 

And suddenly, I couldn't feel the weight of her hand in mine. My gaze darted down to what was previously our union, only to find that she wasn't there anymore. I looked up to find a slow line of evaporating smoke, similar to a trail coming from Roman's cinnamon cigarettes. 

With my next heave of air accompanied by a lonely tear rolling down my cheek, I allowed my hand to reach out to touch the fog. It was thick, and it prickled the tips of my fingers to the likes of a cactus-- my sorrow clouded my instincts, and I didn't retract my hand. I hadn't allowed myself to feel any of this, after all. I had been so wrapped up in Roman, so wrapped up in the new feelings that washed over my body, that I had buried all the old ones. 

However, Letha kept her promise-- I was released.

Released from the loop, but with one foot remaining in the quicksand of guilt.

And as I awoke, it felt like I had been thrown into a cold pond. With a quick breath, I arched off the bed, gasping; "Roman!"  

Frantic beyond words, I heaved for air, blinking rapidly to wake myself up. The morning sun shone through Roman's curtains with soft rays, and I was hit with the smell of a burnt candle. Still hyperventilating, I put a hand on my chest as I tried to turn around, but to no avail.

Why couldn't I move? Was I maybe still stuck in the dream? 

Oh, wait-- It was at this moment that I realized I had a heavy arm around me, keeping me still with my back pressed up against human warmth. 

I let out a shaky breath, a relieved smile spreading across my lips-- Roman. 

My panic gradually subsided, washing away with calm waves as I turned my head to look at him. The sun did him good. Roman's hair was a very specific shade of brown, but in the sun, it had twinges of orange and golden hues. If I were to ever bring it up to him, I know he'd protest and say he was nowhere near ginger. He wasn't, and I was aware of that; as usual, he wouldn't get the point.

After some careful maneuvering, I managed to turn in Roman's heavy embrace, facing him. His plush lips were gently parted, and his long, brown lashes weighed over his eyes-- he also had a rather hefty case of bedhead which I couldn't help but find beyond endearing. Up close like this, completely still, I could see the nearly invisible freckles painting the apples of his cheeks, study the curve of his upper lip, and the scar-like indent on his right cheek. I dared to trace my thumb over it, feeling the softness of Roman's skin against the pad of my finger-- this was beauty unmatched.

He was so beautiful. 

And he was mine.

With the gentlest of pressures, I leaned forward, barely brushing my lips across Roman's. I didn't dare to fully kiss him. I wouldn't dare to wake him up. If only we could lay like this forever, undisturbed and alone.

Forever.

Memories of last night swarmed my brain, pushing out all the memories of Letha's sad, green eyes. I smiled as I realized the ache between my legs hadn't subsided-- the sting remained. It had actually happened. I hadn't made it all up. And I would've stayed engulfed in my cloud of complete and utter awe if Roman hadn't nearly scared the living crap out of me with the following.

His voice was raw with sleep as his eyes remained closed; "It's rude to stare,"

I practically arched right off the bed again. Had Roman not had his arms around me in a deadweight hold, I was sure I'd have flown right down to the floor. "Christ!" I hissed, shocked. How had he known? "Sorry... Did I wake you?"

Roman seemed too sleepy to grant me a proper answer, and he settled for a short grunt; "Sleep," 

"It's already morning!--"

"Don't care. Sleep," With his next breath, he pulled me even closer, until the tips of our noses were touching.

I was almost glad Roman's eyes were closed. At least he didn't see the hefty blush creeping up my cheeks. It dawned on me that he maybe had a point-- we had never had the pleasure of having nowhere to be, with no one to wake us up, or school to go to. 

There was one thing I wanted to say, but I was scared he'd get upset at my use of words-- no, fuck it; "You're so pretty," I whispered, reaching up to brush my fingers over the tips of his long, long lashes. "You can't expect me not to stare when you look like this."

Roman's brows drew together, yet he allowed me to do as I pleased in his sleepy state. "I'm not pretty,"

Knew it. "Yeah, you are,"

"Just go to sleep,"

"You're unbelievably pretty,"

"... Please just sleep,"

I was aware that I was annoying him, but something about the way his voice got all harsh in the morning made me want to hear him more. Roman's breath fanned over the skin at the tip of my nose with the gentlest breeze as I sighed against his lips; God, how I loved him. "I don't want to sleep... but I can lay here with you, if you want,"

Roman hummed, the dark rumble in his chest nearly vibrating the bed in the process. "Just don't go anywhere,"

"I won't,"

"Ever,"

"I won't,"

With Roman's next breath, I knew he finally believed me-- finally. It hit him for the first time last night that I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't going anywhere, and it hit him again now. Forever was a dead serious plan of mine, and I was intent on making him understand that no matter what. "You're prettier," he eventually said, nudging my nose with his. "You're like the first pleasant sip of water after you've recovered from a sore throat."

"... Specific,"

Roman let out a short, annoyed groan; "Sleep,"

I didn't want to sleep. I didn't want to possibly face Letha again. With my palms against Roman's soft cheeks, I placed a loving kiss against his parted lips, feeling him sigh into me. "Good morning, Rome,"

He smiled, fulfilled, as though he couldn't hold it back anymore; "Good morning, baby,"

"Did you at least sleep well?--"

"Sleep!"

"... But I really don't want to,"

With another sigh, Roman stirred, pulling me closer to press a lazy kiss to my jaw. "Either you go back to sleep, or we fuck. You gotta give me something to work with, here,"

I stilled. "That's... not a bad idea,"

Roman's classic smirk illuminated my morning. "Turn around, then,"

"Huh?--"

"Trust me,"

Sometimes, when I was lonely, before everything with Roman, I used to kiss the skin between my knuckles and imagine someone else was kissing me. The small sounds, and the tingling sensation pooling in my stomach, would distract me from the unbearable feeling of loneliness. The reality of it.

Which is why, when Roman brought my hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to my knuckles before turning me around, I knew I wasn't alone.

Actually, it wasn't just that that showed me I wasn't-- the repeated strokes of Roman's cock filling me was certainly reminder enough.

It was that sort of lazy morning sex I had only read about in those odd novels my mom would hide around the house, or heard about from my friends which I no longer had. This was a different type of sex from yesterday's, which had been so highly connected and emotional-- and this was not to say that this right now wasn't both connected and emotional, but it was... comforting. Like we were taking joy in being able to do just this. To enjoy one another in a sleepy, slow form.

Roman's grip around my throat wasn't hard or choking-- it was more of a hold to keep me in place as he let out a breathy grunt against my shoulder, sinking into me with slow, lazy strokes from behind. "We should do this more often," Roman murmured against my ear, listening to my small whimpers. "Isn't this fun?"

I could hear his stupidly pretty smile. Fucking Romy Schneider. "What, sex?" Obviously?

Roman's deep laugh against my ear nearly had me shuddering; "In the morning," he purred.

"That's gonna be-- hard," My last words were cut off by the hitch of my breath. This felt too good. "Parents and-- and all." It was true, though. How were we supposed to do this with our parents in the house? I doubted Roman's mom was out on business trips all the time, anyway.

With a small huff, I was pulled even tighter to his chest, almost as a reprimand-- I had no idea why it made my cheeks burn. "You'll learn to be quiet," Roman breathed, kissing up the shell of my ear. "Right?"

"I--"

"You'll be a good little girl for me and be quiet, hm?"

And just as I was about to protest, to remind him it was probably a little rude to have sex with other people in the house (I had no idea actually, was there no etiquette to it?), the hand Roman had around my waist slid between my legs, coaxing them further apart. All my thoughts of having a proper conversation went out the window the second he pressed two fingers to my clit, circling it as his kisses moved to the skin between my ear and my jaw.

It was impossible not to give in to the feeling; Roman was intoxicating. I whimpered with the next brush of his cock against my sweet spot, the different sensations dulling my brain with every thrust-- "Yeah,"

Roman let out a hum of approval; "Just for me?"

"Only-- Only you,"

I could practically feel him melt against me. "That's my girl,"

It was an oddity how much Roman enjoyed the sound of it. How much he enjoyed knowing he finally had a companion in the world. I could feel his cock twitch inside of me with the reminder, with the need to become one.

Because at the end of the day, that's what we were now.

We were one. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next day at school was the easiest day to handle in a while. It didn't matter that people were staring, that my reputation was still tarnished, because I finally felt the stream of love floating my way that I had been craving my whole life.

"You need to start zipping this up," Roman huffed, reaching for the zipper of my jacket. He pulled me closer to the railing he was sitting on by the school entrance, shaking his head. "It's getting cold. Don't be stupid." This was a new level of intimacy. The quiet moments, the small, shared moments of care. He was almost annoyed that I hadn't done it myself, that I hadn't thought to take care of myself, thoughtless little girl. 

I loved it when he got protective like this. Absolutely adored it. It only reminded me of how much I loved him, and consequently, how I couldn't tell him. 

I glanced at Peter, who sat next to Roman, and held back a snicker. I could bet about a hundred dollars that he had never seen his best friend so ridiculously protective before. "She's not twelve," he tried, nudging Roman's shoulder, earning a displeased grunt. 

Oh, of course Peter didn't get it. Roman Godfrey, sweetly zipping up my jacket-- the simplest of all things. Nonetheless, it brought a twinge of scarlet to my cheeks as I spotted a group of cheerleaders passing us on the way to the school entrance; the looks of seething jealousy in their eyes only brought me joy. A part of me wanted the sight of Roman being sweet to leave them with a feeling of pure agony. I wanted them all to suffer. Always. For their heads to be bashed in like Jasmine nearly did to herself into her locker; I wished it upon them. On them all. 

... I needed to snap out of this.

Roman had been right-- it was getting chilly in Hemlock Grove. I shivered when he finished buttoning my buttons, smiling down at him where he sat with Peter, glad none of them could read my thoughts. I wondered whether Roman would be horrified or... comforted by the fact that I was capable of wishing cruelty upon others, just like him.

It didn't matter. None of it did. Especially not now that he was looking up at me with those big, green eyes of his with his hands tucked into his jacket, looking handsome as ever. From this angle, Roman's shoulders were almost broader, and the more I thought about his physique, the more I thought about last night when he was completely undressed.

Completely undressed, on top of me, loving me. 

... Loving me. 

If only he did.

Fuck-- I couldn't think about that right now. The need to draw him in and have him all over again would overcome me soon, and I needed to push it down. It would be quite unfortunate if I started acting like a cat in heat every time I saw him from now on. "I need to get to class," I said, keeping my hands to myself despite how much I wanted to run them through Roman's hair. 

His eyes softened as he scanned me, jacket fully zipped up and all. "What do you have now?" he asked, now toying with the fabric of my pockets. 

"Math, sadly,"

Peter looked like he couldn't wait to escape the tension that ensued the two of us being in such close proximity. "Oh, right," Peter muttered, clicking his tongue against his palate as he sat back on the banister. "Math, second period... With Letha, right?"

The name was enough to make me freeze, and just for a second, it felt like the air got colder. I was sure I might've even flinched. The image of Letha in my dreams, white as though drained of blood, clouded my vision as my heart started to thump painfully. Why was I reacting like this? 

Also, Roman looked like he had been greatly offended by something. With furrowed brows, he sat back and sent Peter a look of what the fuck. "How do you even know that?" he muttered, reaching one arm forward to drag me closer by my waist, his eyes not leaving Peter's to scan his every minuscule reaction.

I was relieved by Roman's touch-- my fingers dipped into the short hair at the nape of his neck, unsure what was happening. 

On the other hand, Peter seemed to have a hard time recovering from what I could only guess was a slip-up. "I don't know," he said, shrugging as his eyes shied away. "I just remember it, I guess."

Roman snapped; "Why?"

Okay-- I didn't want to be here for this conversation. I couldn't hear more about Letha, not after my cryptic dream. It didn't make matters any better that Peter was right, and that I would see her in my next class. I stopped playing with Roman's hair, placing a short kiss to the top of his head; "I'm heading off," I mumbled, nodding shortly to Peter before excusing myself. 

Having got a quick whiff of Roman's heavy, intoxicating perfume, I closed my eyes and clutched my books tightly to my chest as I walked to class. The sheer smell of him, the softness of his hair, the kindness of his gestures-- it all made my head wander back to last night. The way it felt to have him inside me, how he took care of me, and how good it all felt. Allowing the memories to float back into my mind, I didn't realize I was walking around with a bright smile on my face until I sat down in math class and got a few odd looks from the other students around my seat. I wasn't usually this cheery, I suppose. 

Life felt good. When I thought about Roman, everything felt great. I made myself comfortable behind my desk, feeling my tummy tingle with my reminiscing of last night; I wanted him more than ever. Now that I knew we could be together like that, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to be able to detach from him. And just as I thought I was about to explode into a burst of butterflies, I stuck my hand in my coat to reach for my phone, only to find what felt like crumbled-up paper. 

Confused, I unfolded it;

i miss the look on your face when you cum. miss you miss you miss you. let's find a quiet place somewhere and get very very noisy after school, what do you think about that? do tell. i want to know your every thought, actually. what makes you tick, and so forth. know that i'm probably thinking about you right now. always. 

- your favorite (hopefully)

Oh, Roman and his notes. When had he managed to put it in there? A few minutes ago, when he toying with my pockets? Sneaky. I was dead sure my cheeks had turned a peculiar shade of pink by the time I felt someone put down their bag in the empty seat next to me, and I was too drunk on the euphoria to glance at my partner for today's class. How I loved Roman-- I loved him to the point where the tips of my fingers burned when I thought about him. And knowing he was probably in class now as well, thinking about me too... no, it was almost too much to bear.

However, when something much harder to face suddenly sat down next to me, I would've loved to get sucked right back into my tingling cave of Roman-comfort. 

Letha. 

Letha was here. 

Letha was sitting next to me, gazing back at me with those trademark green Godfrey eyes. 

Fuck. I immediately crumbled up the note, stuffing it down my pocket to hide the content of it from her. Knowing Letha, she'd probably barf at the sight of the first sentence. "What are you doing?" I hissed, glancing around to scour the classroom for empty seats. "There's a free table two rows down--"

"I like sitting here," Letha's face remained free of strong emotion, and she turned away to unpack her supplies. "It's close to the window, and I need the natural sunlight. It helps the headache I get from the lamps in here, don't you remember?"

She said it so matter-of-factly, and for a second, it felt as though I had been teleported back to two months ago. I didn't know how to act around Letha anymore. "Sure," I mumbled. Just my luck. 

As class started, I would glance over at Letha every once in a while. She seemed so peaceful, undisturbed by my presence, and I wasn't sure why that annoyed me to this extent. Was it perhaps the fact that she sought out forgiveness from me when she refused to give me any in return? That she was seeking acceptance about the situation only when it suited her? 

It was odd to look at Letha and see her in colours. After my dream last night, I could only see her in her undead form, dead to me.  

To my dismay, Letha leaned over to my side of the table a little later that class; "Do you have a pencil?" she whispered.

A Godfrey asking to borrow my pencil? It usually led to no good. Still, I handed her one--

"Thank you,"

"No problem,"

This was so weird. It felt too normal, yet it was agony to act that it was. However, the situation only worsened when the teacher asked us to work in pairs and solve an equation on the board. I held my breath, daring to glance at Letha; she was already looking at me. "You have no clue how to solve this stuff, do you?"

I shrugged. She knew me too well. "You've probably already solved it in your head,"

Letha's smile was kind, genuine. "Want me to show you how to do it?"

"Nah," 

"Do you even do your homework anymore?"

I knew her question was coming from a good place. I could feel it. After all, I barely managed to do my homework when Letha and I had regular study sessions at her place. Just thinking about it made me remember the sweet smell of her sheets, which never mixed well with the incense she was always burning for 'good karma'. "Roman has a guy that does them for him, and I write my answers off of his," I mumbled.

I expected the mention of him to put her off-- yet Letha simply nodded, raising her brows in a conniving look. "He's corrupted you,"

"I've let him,"

"I know," Letha's green eyes shimmered with words untold as she echoed; "I know."

It was odd to face her like this. For her to know my feelings for Roman, and not walk off this time. This was the first conversation we'd had in months where we weren't at each other's throats. And suddenly, Letha took the leap I wasn't allowed to take-- she leaned in closer as she dared to whisper the forbidden words; "I miss you,"

Oh no. "Letha--"

"You never said goodbye, and now a part of me believes you're coming back,"

I let out a shaky breath as I moved my chair further away from hers. What she said had been too close to the words in my dream last night. It was chilling. "Of course I never said goodbye," I hissed back, feeling my emotions boil to a simmer. "You didn't let me." There it was, laid out in the open. "You cut me off, Letha." She had. "And you left me for dead!"

Letha held her breath high in her chest as her mouth formed a tight line. It wasn't until she moved her chair closer to mine and gripped the table harder that she allowed herself to breathe; "I left you for dead because you basically fucking stabbed me!" 

"I didn't mean to!"

"And you think I did?" Letha hissed. "You gave me no choice!"

"That's not true! I came clean to you, and the least you could've done was to!--"

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry!" 

We stared at one another in silence. There it was, my apology, served on a silver platter. I had heard it once before, but Roman wasn't here to control the outcome of it this time. Something within the bounds of my soul was relieved of anger and tension, and I couldn't halt the result of it; "I'm sorry too,"

Letha froze for a good second or two. Her lips parted in disbelief as her grip on the table lifted, and she sat back in her chair with a slow nod. It gradually dawned on her what this meant for us. 

"Do you think it could work again?"

I indulged with a soft sigh; "What could, Letha?"

"Us," she said, allowing tears to well in her eyes. "You and I. Our friendship."

It was easier to breathe, all of a sudden. I knew that an apology wasn't enough to mend our wounds, but it was a start. I nodded along with Letha and watched as the corners of her mouth tugged upwards into a smile-- I caught myself mirroring it.

"So..." she tried.

"So..."

"Did you hear that Brooke Bluebell bought a big needle from a pharmacy?" 

I grimaced; "What? No, why?"

"To get her revenge on Roman," Letha held back a laugh, biting down on her lip as she turned to write down the answer to the math equation. "From a few months ago, if you remember the whole ordeal."

"Oh," I breathed. "Needle-gate?"

"Needle-gate,"

Despite how concerning the big needle sounded, it was a funny reminder of the past; "I've gotta tell Roman," 

"Yeah, you better. I think he's blocked me, so I'm out of the picture," Letha sat back in her chair after finishing her work, and she glanced back at me as she tapped the pencil against the paper. "You've gotta tell him about prom too."

"... Prom?"

"Yes, prom," Grabbing her bag, Letha rummaged around for a few seconds until she found a flyer. It was purple, super lavish-- "It's in two weeks, I think. Kinda short notice, but I have a feeling he'd secretly want to go. He's into the classics, so I'd suggest you indulge him."

I felt my cheeks turn red as I kept my eyes on the flyer. Just the thought of me in a dress, Roman in a suit; it made me warm. Uncomfortably warm. "I think he'd rather die, actually," I mumbled, handing it back to Letha. "Are you going?"

"Meh, don't think so," She stuffed the flyer back into her bag and sighed, reaching for her phone. "The guy that I'm into says he doesn't want to go, so I'll stay home."

It hit me that this was the first time I didn't know who Letha had a crush on. Previously, she would tell me all about them. There was a Tyler, there was a Scott, and then there was a third one who had a really peculiar last name. And just as I was about to scour my brain for more names, a particular one popped up on Letha's phone as she turned it on;

Peter: I think it's time to...

That was all I was able to see, as she needed to click on it to read the whole message. My eyes widened as I sat back in my chair, sending Letha an odd look. It was clear by her body language that she hadn't intended for me to see that, and she immediately flipped her phone. 

... Was something going on?

Letha cleared her throat and turned back to me with the same smile, yet it felt disingenuous. "That's a different Peter," she said, a somewhat panicked squeak to her voice. "It's the neighbour. He might be complaining about the amount of cars my dad has parked on our street, cause they don't fit into our garage anymore. It needs to be discussed, apparently. It's time, or whatever."

That seemed like a typical rich-kid problem. I could somewhat buy it. "Is it a Godfrey thing to be crazy about cars?"

"Just you wait until you hear about the cigarettes. Dad's a real chain-smoker,"

"... Don't tell me they're cinnamon-flavoured?"

Letha sighed; "Sadly, yeah. The garage smells like a goddamn gingerbread house,"

The laughter that followed wasn't intentional, and it blended in with the ring of the bell. 

This was nice. To see the smile on Letha's face felt good, like a warm soup when you have a cold. It was a comfort to know that we could finally be normal around each other, despite the fact that we would possibly never be friends again like before, or even forgive one another. I doubted that I ever could, fully. 

However, just as I was about to excuse myself, I spotted a silhouette by the door which made my blood run cold. 

Fuck.

Roman. 

I saw it in his eyes immediately. The confusion, which quickly morphed into something darker, anger-like. My laughter died down in an instant as my body kicked into a fight-or-flight response, suddenly scared out of my mind to be caught laughing with Letha-- she seemed to catch on momentarily, but remained in her seat as she watched me shove all my supplies and books into my backpack, hurrying to get to Roman.

I had forgotten that he wanted to pick me up after class. I had forgotten my promise to not fraternise with the enemy-- fucking stupid. 

Hoping to conceal the slight tremble in my hands, I put one of them on Roman's arm when I caught up to him in the doorway, smiling up at him with an anxious breath stuck in my chest. "Hey, you," I tried, giving the sleeve of his shirt a gentle tug as I always did, a plea for him to bend down and kiss me. It was impossible to reach all the way up to his lips without it, anyway.

But Roman's attention hadn't left Letha. His eyes had narrowed, glaring at her with fury apparent in the way his jaw clenched. Had telepathy been a real thing, I'd have thought they were yelling at each other through their minds. I almost wanted to butt in and say Letha wasn't bothering me, that we were having a normal conversation-- however, I knew that would only make it worse. 

"Come," Roman said with a low growl, unlike anything I had heard from him before. With one last scorned look at Letha, he gripped my wrist and started marching down the hallway; I didn't expect to be yanked from my place the way I was, and I was sure my legs were fully in the air for a microsecond or two; "Roman!--"

"This day just keeps getting worse," he muttered, not waiting for me to find my balance as he continued to drag me down the hallway. 

Roman's grip around my wrist was hard. "Slow down!" I tried, grabbing his arm with my free hand. "It's not what it looks like! It's not-- " Everything about this made me dizzy, and his sudden anger made the familiar feeling of dread pool in my stomach. It only got worse when he pulled me into an empty classroom, slamming the door shut behind us.

I took a few steps away from him, waiting for the bomb to explode. My breath came out in short, ragged motions as my hands remained clenched by my sides in anticipation. It felt like I was five years old again, waiting to get reprimanded for having drawn on the walls. "Roman, I--"

"Shut up," Of all the things I expected, it wasn't this. Not at all. Because suddenly, my body was pressed against the door of the classroom with Roman's arms around me, and his lips pressing needy kisses to my neck. My bag dropped to the floor-- What the...?

"Not here," was all I managed to say before my breath hitched, and my hands automatically flew up into his hair. "Roman, please, wait--"

"No," He was more dismissive than ever-- I wondered why I sort of liked it. Why it made my stomach tingle, why I wanted him to do whatever he wanted to me. Was it possibly after what had happened last night? "No more bullshit." 

I closed my eyes, hoping we'd have a few seconds to disperse if someone walked in on us right now. With the force of Roman's weight against mine keeping the door firmly shut, I was sure of it. My head lulled against the door as I felt him latch on a particular spot on the side of my neck, marking my skin with his possession. I knew I was screwed-- you can't get more screwed than this. 

I was sure I disassociated for a few seconds, because suddenly, Roman's lips brushed against my ear, and I had to suppress a shiver. "We're gonna have a damn serious talk," he said, keeping me still against the door. "We need it. I need it."

Something told me we wouldn't be talking much if he continued kissing me like this. "Let's-- Let's talk, then,"

When Roman pulled away, I could finally see the frustration on his face. The way his brows were drawn together, how high his breath was in his chest, and the narrow glare of his gaze. Still, I didn't think it would result in this; it took me a while to realize his hands were no longer at my sides, and that they were now unzipping my jeans. 

"What are you doing?" I breathed, grabbing at his wrists. "Don't--"

"You think you can outsmart me?" It was as though someone had ripped the curtains off its hinges, now revealing what was always hidden behind them. Roman's breath fell heavy against my cheek as a small twitch of his upper lip revealed his inner turmoil; "You think you can tell me one thing, and then do the opposite when I'm not looking?"

My anxiety grew as I realized Roman's strength was unmatched. There was nothing I could do to fight him. "What are you talking about?" It was hard to come up with a cohesive sentence when I was this stressed. 

"Peter told me, y'know," Roman continued, a low growl in his voice prevalent in ways it had never been before. "He told me the obvious, of course. That Letha is trying to reconcile, that she misses you... But then he told me the part I didn't know. The part you probably didn't want me to know."

It was with his last ominous words that he managed to dip his fingers past my waistband, past the hem of my underwear, and placed two fingers on my clit. The unexpected touch immediately made me squirm against the door, squeezing my eyes shut. "Why-- Why are you doing this?" was all I managed to stutter out, my hands still locked around his wrist. He knew I didn't want this. He knew. "I don't-- don't know what you're--"

"Talking about?" Roman rubbed rough circles around my clit as he placed his forehead against mine, pressing my head further up against the door. "Oh, so you're not gonna tell me?" His voice got more patronizing, as though this was fifth grade and he was teasing me in the courtyard-- "Is my good little girl gonna be real stupid and not tell me? You wanna act dumb with me, huh?"

Something about his tone made my cheeks burn. His tone, his words. This was not a good way to find out about a possible kink. My mind dulled with the stimulation against my clit, and it didn't take long before I eventually felt my arousal pooling. In all ways of the word, I felt like my body was betraying me. "Not here," I echoed, breath hitching. It felt like he was pressing a button on me, like I was a toy, thoughtlessly repeating it over and over; "Not here, Rome-- N-Not, here, please--"

"I'll stop when you tell me,"

"Tell you what?" I cried, squeezing his wrists as my hips bucked into his hand. Roman knew how to touch me, even if it was at my disadvantage. My mind was racing; someone could walk in, someone could see, someone could--

"How Letha helped you get us back together," Roman's breath was so warm, so angry, against my face, it felt like he was drawing my scorching red blush on my cheeks. "How you went and asked her for advice on how to decrypt me? Maybe you don't know me at all, is that it?"

I didn't want to think about this. I didn't want to be present. I didn't want to think about the fact that Roman had gotten the information all twisted, that Peter must've had quite an extensive talk with Letha to even know parts of this story, and that Roman couldn't find another way to talk it out than to do it like this. Forcefully. Because right now, it felt too good. It felt way too good. The sensation of his fingers rubbing circles into my clit, running them between my folds to gather up my slick, only to return to my bundle of nerves to make my legs shake with a mix of anxiety and pleasure, felt too good.

"That's not true," I tried in between heaves of air. What would it make me if I came like this? "That's not-- not true, Rome--"

"I won't ever be enough for you, will I?" 

"No-- no, you're everything!--"

"Because the end of the day, you'll go back to Letha," Roman's voice was tight, restricted, as though he was holding back a heap of emotions. "No matter what I do, how gently I fuck you, treat you, you won't want to be with me forever. No one does."

If only he knew. If only he knew that I loved him. My hands let go of his wrist, and I placed my palms against his chest, forcing some space between us with a push. That seemed to do the trick-- Roman's fingers slowed down as our eyes met, and he was faced with my watery gaze. "I didn't lie last night," I said after finally catching my breath. "I've never lied to you." An unnervingly big part of me longed for him to rub me through my high, which was not too far away from the horizon, but the sane part of me knew I had to put an end to his venture into the dark ways of his past. 

Roman's mouth pulled into a straight line; "Peter wouldn't lie to me either,"

"I'm not saying he is. He just got the story wrong,"

There was a long silence, and I knew this was my moment-- I reached for Roman's wrist again, and with careful, slow motions, I got his hand out of my underwear. "Letha heard us fight, and she came over to ask about it afterwards," I started. "There was no plotting. No decrypting. The only thing she told me, was to look for a bigger picture when it comes to fighting with you. I didn't ask for it! And what you saw just now, was us being friendly. Not friends. We will never be again, after everything that happened!" 

"But... you were talking on the stairs," Roman echoed, as something in his gaze faltered. "I saw you when we were leaving the party."

Letha's following words were almost icy to the touch, hollow to the ear; "Was I right?" 

It felt as though my world stilled. Time stilled. Just for a second, I felt as though I could wade my free hand through the coldness of her phrase, and I could wave away the mirage. She was concerned, curious. Had she genuinely wanted to help me get through this fight with Roman? 

"Yeah," I breathed. "You were. Thank you." 

Letha's face softened as a relieved sigh escaped her, nodding her head slowly. It had been a long time since the last time she had heard those words from me. "Any time," 

The memory was as fresh as day. "You were right next to me, Roman. If I was hiding something, I wouldn't have talked to her in front of you," I let go of his hand, letting out a shaky breath as he took another step away from me. I could sense that his mind was cracking itself in half. "I don't need Letha to tell me how to fix things with you. Contrary to what you were thinking, I do know you. And I know you well enough to see that this isn't you being angry with me, but rather your fucking abandonment issues surfacing because you haven't dealt with them yet!"

It was clear that Roman didn't expect me to raise my voice, but hell-- I was so done with this behavioural pattern of his. 

"It might be good for me to not have the worst relationship with all the girls at this school, have you thought about that?" I said, feeling my fists clench at my sides. "That Letha and I being friendly and not at each other's throats might be good for me? And that it might also be good for your relationship with your cousin, mind you, who you've seemingly blocked?" 

Roman remained silent, at a loss for words. 

My breathing had yet to calm down, along with my arousal. "You will always be enough for me," I said, softening my tone. "You're all I've ever wanted. I'm not leaving you. But it doesn't matter how many times I tell you this unless you trust me." I zipped up my pants, huffing as I picked up my bag. It felt as though my knees were about to give out-- I could feel my slick dripping into my underwear. This was a feeling I never wanted to revisit again. Ready to storm off, to slam the door behind me with a bang and leave Roman here to wallow in whatever he was feeling at the moment, something else hit me like a blow to the head; "Wait, how did Peter know?"

It couldn't be. It seriously couldn't be.

Roman cleared his throat, no longer meeting my gaze. I could see it in the light pink of his cheeks that he was embarrassed about his outburst. "He said they talked at the party," he mumbled under his breath. "Briefly. Just for a second."

"Ah, is that right?"

Roman caught my tone, glancing up at me through his brows. "Why?"

"Don't you think it's odd?"

"... Maybe, I don't know? I was busy getting laid that night, don't ask me,"

I would've laughed had I not been so pissed off. I could see the lack of reaction on my face getting to Roman, and he gave in to a slight shiver. Finally, the roles were reversed, just for a second. "Rome?"

He looked relieved to hear me use his nickname-- "Yes?"

"You will never do anything like that to me ever again,"

Roman tucked his hands into his pockets, head hanging low. "I... really don't know what came over me--"

"Never," I snapped, biting my teeth together. I was afraid I'd start yelling. "You will never."

I wondered whether anyone had talked to him like this. If this was the first time in history that Roman had gotten a boundary imposed on him. Maybe by his mother when she was scolding him as a child, but after that? I somehow doubted it. He remained silent, eyes fixating on his polished shoes.

Finally getting the opportunity to look at him this close, I spotted the vial of my blood still hanging around his neck, poking out from beneath his shirt. In the back of my mind, after having read that stupid book on upirs, a huge part of me thought he was getting affected by it. That the constant smell of blood right underneath his nose was activating dormant senses, dormant thoughts. 

But upirs weren't real. 

Not.

Real.

Roman's silence made me feel unimaginably guilty, as though I had been the one to force myself upon him-- he looked like a kicked puppy. I hated it. So, I gathered my next breath; "Could you at least say you're sorry? Then I'll feel better about inviting you home for dinner later,"

Roman's eyes lit up as they met mine, surprised I'd even offer. "You... still want that?"

"I can barely breathe when we're apart, what do you think?"

He let out the breath he had been holding, falling apart; "I'm really sorry,"

I didn't want to dwell on it. Didn't want to think about the fact that the scared look on my face would probably get him going for months on end. That he'd think about it at night, when he woke up, and especially when he got off at the thought of me. The scared look in my eyes. 

No. I didn't want to think about it. 

Roman was the first to approach, slowly daring to tilt my head up with two fingers underneath my chin and kissing me with the utmost gentle touch. No tongue, no urgency-- just a small, soft brush of our lips against one another, creating sparks that went all the way down into the tips of my fingers. 

Letha had been right when she first warned me about him, all those months ago. Roman was the epitome of an asshole. A core so rotten, it was impossible to carve out all the bad. You could try, you could dig, you could pray, but all of it would never go away. It would forever fester in his bones, infect the very basis of his DNA, and course through his veins.

But... when he kissed me like this, I could forget it.

I could forget.

When he kissed me like this, I only loved him more.

I knew I would love him forever. 

And as the kiss deepened with the sweetest pressure, I reached for the vial of my blood around Roman's neck-- he didn't notice the way I twisted the capsule, figuring out which way to turn it so it would screw itself off. I had a feeling I would need to know this information in times of crisis. 

Just in case.

Just in case. ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The rest of the evening went on as normal. Weirdly enough.

Roman had fully snapped out of his rage, and he had turned into a version of himself I hadn't seen before. He wasn't joking around. He wasn't making dirty jokes. 

He was... calm.

Assured. 

I knew this was probably a form of keeping on the low, to not take a wrong step and blow up in the minefield he had made himself. Roman laid still in my bed with his hands behind his head, watching as I scoured my closet. If there was going to be a prom, I had to look for a dress, right? 

"What are you looking for?" he asked, yawning. "Need some help?"

I shrugged, hoping to brush his question off. It was a bit embarrassing to be talking about this, seeing as he hadn't asked me to be his date or anything. "Just looking for a dress... Wondering if I still have the one I'm thinking about,"

"What do you need a dress for?" Roman sat up in the bed, watching me like a puppy would.

"I... like dresses. Need to wear them more often,"

"But it's getting colder, don't you think it's better to wear something warmer for the season?"

What was up with this obsession of his lately? He had to keep me warm at all times, supposedly. "You sound so polite," I mumbled, wading through my clothes. "Stop looking so guilty, please."

Roman let out a sigh, running his hands through his hair. "I feel bad,"

This was intolerable. It gnawed on my heart. "I told you we're fine, so please don't," I turned to him with one hand on my hip, hoping to stare some sense into him; "I even wore this crazy top to make your mood better, look!"

Roman's eyes darted down to the hot pink crop top I was wearing, and he bit down on his growing smile to stay neutral. Nonetheless, I could see it on his face that he remembered exactly where I had gotten it, and possibly the feeling he had back in that closet when he came into the soft fabric of it. "I'd rather you wore my sweater, like usual,"

"It's in the washer. And this top is fucking iconic," I pointed to the words which were stretched out across my chest. "See? 'Rock on', in big, black letters. You need to rock on more, Roman."

His smile immediately cracked, and he propped himself up on his elbows as he leaned down on the bed. "I've done enough rocking for today, that's for sure,"

I finally saw a way I could turn his mood upside down. With a smug smile, I walked over to the pink speaker I got for my seventeenth birthday and connected it to my phone. "Rome, baby, who's big in rock these days?" 

Roman chuckled, rolling over on his side to follow me with his eyes. "Depends what type of rock you're looking for,"

"Anything,"

"I don't know, then. Anything from Nirvana to Blur, I suppose," 

Bingo. I guessed that Roman was going for bands he thought I had heard of, and he had hit jackpot. With a click of a button, the intro to Song 2 by Blur started playing through the speakers, which earned me another laugh from my boyfriend. It was a typical rock song-- it started out rather quiet until it broke out into complete chaos. 

I crawled back into bed, kissing my way up Roman's stomach, which only made his breath hitch. The giggles brewing in his chest resonated through my body that was pressed up against his, and I joined the laughter as I kissed his rosy cheeks. It was intimate, it was sweet. I loved that I could do this with him now, that he was comfortable enough to be put in a position like this, and that he allowed me to pull stunts like these.

And after all, I decided I would show my love through action, as I couldn't tell him about the extent of my feelings. I knew he'd get up and bolt right out the window like something straight out of a cartoon.

Roman caught his breath, placing his hands on both sides of my face-- all the emotions he couldn't tell me either were on display in his big, green eyes, roaming around the galaxies in his dark pupils. "I trust you,"

"... What?--"

"I keep thinking about what you said earlier," he tried, stroking his thumbs across the soft skin of my cheeks. "I promise I trust you. And I'm sorry that I get in my head about it, because you don't deserve that. You deserve so much better than what I can give you, yet... I want you to stay with me. I really, really want you to stay with me."

This was a rather deep conversation to be having with loud rock music in the background. I should've definitely picked something more mellow. With a sigh, I leaned down to kiss the tip of Roman's nose-- "I told you I'm not going anywhere," I breathed. "I'm yours forever, if you'll have me."

Finally, Roman's eyes lit up. Lit up like fireworks painting the sky. "Forever sounds nice,"

"It does, doesn't it?" It was impossible not to smile.

"It so does," 

It was a relief when he pulled me tightly to his chest and kissed me. It was the type of kiss I had dreamed of having in my bed on a lazy afternoon, the type of kiss which made my heart swell as it beat against his. The type of kiss which I had only ever seen in movies, the type of kiss I could never imagine would feel this good.

No one ever told me that making out with your boyfriend was such a thrill. To be tangled up as one, to be a heap of bodies coming together, to be a mess, and that it would make my whole being vibrate with joy. Roman's lips were so gentle to the touch, yet his kisses were so hot, all-taking, that I wanted nothing more than to melt into him and become one. 

It didn't take long before he rolled us over-- I knew he wouldn't be the type to like anyone on top except for him. My hands were in his hair, tugging at the tips of his dark locks to make my fingers busy, as Roman's tongue licked a stripe up my lips; it was so soft, a feathery touch, and it drew out a shaky moan. 

I didn't know any of this was possible before I met him. I really had no idea, silly me. 

My mind didn't register the meek whine that escaped me, possibly to protect my psyche, as Roman pulled away. A thin string of saliva connected our lips as we simply breathed down at each other, gazing into the other's eyes-- I was sure mine widened a little when I felt something hard pressing against my lower abdomen. 

Fuck, that was still damn hot. 

It certainly gave the words rock on a new meaning, no?

"I need to ask you something," Roman breathed, followed by a sigh of relief when he heard the song was over. "But don't freak out on me, okay?"

I nodded, eager to have his lips back on mine again; "Sure,"

"And before you judge me, I'm not the biggest fan of this idea myself, cause I think it's kinda lame. Keep that in mind,"

"Okay?"

"So... Heh," Roman let out a soft, nervous laugh, nudging my nose with his. "You might actually want to find a dress for this to work, though."

My fingers traced circles into his hair; "Rome,"

"Yeah?"

"Stop rambling, please,"

"Oh,"

"You were saying?"

"Oh," Roman cleared his throat, placing a short kiss to my lips. "Do you want to go to prom?"

Had I not been trapped beneath him, I would've shot right out of the bed. My eyes widened as I pulled him in for another kiss, hoping to suppress the squeal that threatened to escape me. 

"Wait, wait--" Roman's words were muffled against my lips before he raised himself up, still not done. What else was there to say, though? "So, you're going?"

"... What?"

"With friends, or...?"

"Roman, what friends?"

"Ah, right," Once again, he cleared his throat and got all serious again; "So... would you want to go with me?"

It took a second for it to dawn on me that Roman had been genuinely confused. That he thought I would be going with anyone else but him. That he thought, even for just a second, that there was a possibility that I would tell him no. "Are you crazy? Of course!"

Oh, how I loved him.

I loved him to bits.

And here I was, squealing about going to prom. Roman had made me a puddle of girly with his heartthrob-ways. It would've made me sick, had we not immediately gone back to making out, but this time, with bright smiles on our faces. Kissing someone while smiling was definitely in my top three of all things possible on earth. 

Second place was being picked up like I weighed nothing, oddly enough. That was one of the perks of having a tall boyfriend, after all.

And the first place was a no-brainer. It was definitely sex. 

Oh, and who would've guessed-- we'd end up having sex a few minutes later, believe it or not. When your boyfriend is this hot, it's impossible to resist. It was the type of sex that made up for his behavior at school today, the type of sex that made me melt into the mattress with joy and pleasure. 

The cursed hot pink crop top was quickly discarded, and so was my sanity. Roman's kisses grew firm against me, muffling the sounds of my moans as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of my thighs, pinning them down and folding me into submission. It was official-- there seemed to be no etiquette to sex, and my parents being in the house was an obstacle that was easy to deal with. 

Just... shut up. Keep your mouth shut. Right?

But it was so damn hard. Especially as Roman angled his cock right up against my sweet spot with the help of the pillow beneath me, making me whine in pleasure against the kiss he had locked me in to ensure my silence. It was impossible. It made my toes curl, made my vision blurry, and made my mind go into complete lockdown. I entered a phase where I almost didn't care, where I couldn't care less at all, and where the only important thing was for Roman to do whatever he wanted to me. 

"Fuck-- me," I rambled, my hands skimming the muscular range of his broad back as I felt my need grow insatiable. 

Roman let out a huff against me, the smile on his face a visible contradiction; "What am I doing, then, gorgeous?" He was so secure, so confident, that it was impossible not to let him do whatever his heart desired to me. I trusted him with my whole being, even as his grip around my thighs started to make them ache. My lower lip quivered; "Lo--"

No, no!

"Love this," My rambling needed to end, stat. 

Roman smirked into the kiss that followed; "Me too," He seemed to be catching onto my overstimulated state, and the second I let out a sigh of relief when he let go of my thighs and the pounding against my sweet spot relented, he came right back with a move I didn't expect. Roman wrapped his arms around me, pulling me up into his lap with his cock still throbbing inside me. 

I suppressed a surprised yelp. "Rome!--"

"Shh," He guided my legs around him as he watched me adjust to the new feeling-- he was deeper than ever, now, and it freaked me out a bit. "Stay quiet for me, okay?"

I was on the brink of tears. It felt like my thoughts had short-circuited and left me for dead. My breath tensed in my chest as I draped my arms around Roman's neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair to ground myself, just as I knew he liked it. "Let's try something new," he purred, hands traveling up my thighs to grab my hips, lifting me up along his shaft as I gasped into his open mouth. 

Even when I was on top, Roman needed to have control. Perfect. That worked out well for me, actually.

The way he was looking at me made me feel like I was on fire. The green of his eyes etched into mine, watching me with unmatched amusement-- his lips were upturned into the usual smug smirk which made my heart dance in my chest, and in vulnerable moments such as these, it also resulted in my cheeks flaring up with an embarrassing shade of pink. 

It didn't take long before we found a rhythm, and before I got used to practically riding him. It was different like this, especially when Roman's hands were simply a weight on my hips, and I could fuck myself on his cock. It felt like a permission of sorts, like he was telling me he was all mine, that I could do whatever he wanted to him-- like an exchange of submission. Although, of course, Roman would never fully submit to anything in the world. 

It was easy to keep quiet when the soft pillows of his lips muffled the sounds of my inevitable moans, but when they left me, it became a fight against my conscience. A small gasp would escape me here and there, along with a loud hitch of my breath, and it eventually balled on into a breathy string of ah ah ah's-- staying quiet was an impossible task. I prayed to all the Gods above that my parents wouldn't hear the mess their dearest Roman was making out of their daughter.

They had no idea he could be like this. None. He was such a sweetheart at dinner, he'd always make sure to help my mom set the table, and he'd talk sports with my dad-- they had no idea. I could see it in Roman's eyes that he found the sight of me beyond amusing. That he got off me unraveling more than anything. He only made it harder for me to stay quiet as he pressed the heel of his palm to my clit, keeping me steady with a hand on my back as his kisses trailed down my body. 

"A-Ah, Rome--" I was done for. I was done for. 

"Shh, just a little more," Roman's lips had stayed at my clavicle for long enough to leave a mark. It dawned on me that he was leaving a trail of hickeys, and my fist in his hair tightened as my legs quivered. This was too many sensations at once. "A little more... You can take it, right?"

I couldn't utter a cohesive sentence. The pressure on my clit, his wet, eager kisses, and the way I could set the perfect pace as I slid up and down his cock made my brain buzz with static noise. I was sure my eyes had morphed into the shape of hearts as I let out a shaky, quiet moan, filling myself up with Roman's cock over and over. The best feeling in the world. 

"That's my girl..." he cooed, grabbing my waist with his free hand. "Fuck yourself on my cock, it's all yours..." His pink lips parted with pleasure as he watched me sink down on his length, enchanted by the sight. It was a delight to watch the way his perfect up-do came undone, and the way his hair fell over his forehead in messy strokes. He looked unreal, godly. 

Roman's words were enough to make my hips buck into his abdomen, but my state only got worse, deteriorated, as his mouth trailed down to my breast. The moan I had to suppress when I felt his tongue against my stiffening bud was unmatched-- I was sure I started panting as he took it into his mouth, suckling it swollen as I whimpered. 

I wanted to let it spill past my lips; I love you, I love you, I love you. In that sense, sex was dangerous territory for me. However, how was I supposed to resist when it felt this good?

My lips ghosted over the parts of him I could reach, his ear, his cheek, and I let my breath hitch against his skin as a familiar feeling pooled in my tummy. Aware, Roman only drove the heel of his palm harder into my clit, making it so that I was grinding up against him with every lift of my hips against his length. I gave into a tremble, unsure how to stabilize myself in this position-- "Rome," I cried, pleading for him to kiss me. I wasn't sure I'd be able to suppress the sounds that were threatening to spill past my quivering lips when my high washed over me.

Roman's free hand remained at my breast, pinching my bud between his pointer and his thumb in a firm hold which had me wincing in pleasure. He kissed up my body, my shoulders, my neck, my jaw, my cheek-- yet he hovered inches away from my lips, the smirk still prevalent. "You lost," he whispered.

Lost what?

It was as though he read my mind; "You can't stay quiet, can you?"

I really wished I could. I was trying with all my might. But I was so, so damn close, and I shook my head, hoping he'd take pity on me. 

"It's okay," he cooed, his breath falling hot against my cheek as he tilted his head as though to kiss me. "You were never meant to win."

And so I crumbled. Completely. Utterly. Euphoria tore through me as I fell apart in Roman's arms, and it didn't take long before he simply wrapped his arms around me, laid me back down, and fucked me through my high as I suppressed my sobs of pleasure into his shoulder. 

Honestly? I didn't remember what happened next. Completely zen, relaxed, and thoroughly fucked, I considered myself logged off for the next ten minutes or so. However, I had to run over to my mental keyboard as Roman's hand, which was previously toying with my hair, pointed to my nightstand-- "What's that?"

With a small grunt, I raised my head from his bare shoulder. Fuck. My eyes sprung wide open as I spotted The Avoidable Vampirism on display, uncovered and everything. "Uh..." How could I have left that abomination out in the open? I gulped, turning to Roman with a doe-eyed expression that I knew worked well on him. I was sure my next words would put him off his incoming queries in an instant; "It's the sequel to Twilight. Vampire erotica, the usual. Edward is gay in this book, Bella is dead, and there are tons of scenes where, uh... men kiss men. And suck each other off. Super interesting."

Unsurprisingly, Roman was immediately disinterested. "Girls," he mumbled, rolling his eyes before he pressed a short kiss to my lips. "Stop thinking about gay sex, go to sleep."

"I'm not thinking about!--"

"Sleep!"

a/n: thank you for reading this monster of a chapter!!!! as you see, Roman's going absolutely nuts... I wonder whyyy (oh we know why, don't we? don't dangle a carrot in front of a donkey or whatever they say). there are a few chapters left of this book which will be packed w shit I hope will melt your brains, but before that, I wish you all a lovely christmas and a happy new year!!! MWAH, THANK YOU!!)

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

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

[thatbitchery]

Given everything you want will come from people just learn how to people. Exposure therapy and whatnot. Remember to learn to manipulate and gaslight bc are you even a woman if you cant? Manipulation is natural even nature does it why do you think ripe fruits are red and children are born cute with irresistible googoo gaga cartoon eyes lol authenticity on the outside is unnatural. We literally used to have camouflage be fr.

Remember to just have a superiority complex it's better than having an inferiority complex. If it has nothing to back it up ie. If you do not have tangible evidence then it will obviously crash its delusion but so is the inferiority complex and one of them feels better so.

Looking down on people >> looking up to people. Better to be on the pedestal than to hold people on the pedestal no? Being dominant >> being submissive obviously. Again, these are unbalanced positions and YOU WILL crash but better to crash from a high than a low, don't you think?

Master your masculine before you master your feminine. Creation is once in a while, sustenance IS FOREVER. Yes I know what the guru that wants you to speak in a baby voice and giggle once every two minutes said but forget her listen to me. Femininity is NOTHING without masculinity. It's useless. What's the good in creating if you can't sustain? First, Master your masculine. Then, master your feminine. Whether you like it or not no matter how much pink and Long hair you have and how many men provide for you , you will be in your masculine longer than your feminine. Again, what good is creation with no sustenance? And no sorry it's not supposed to come from outside you. Girly is not feminine, okay? Two different words.

I'll say this again, take the red pill, live like you're on the blue pill. Why escape the matrix when you can just dominate it?

It is, in fact. All in your head. This is an advantage.

Detachment. Seriously. When you stop wanting it, that's when it comes. Unfortunately that is how it works. Detachment IS abundance. It's not *there will be more* its *there will be*. It's not *Everything happens for the good* no, it is *Everything Happens* . It's not *God/ The Universe / Mythology of choice figurehead is on my side* it's *I am God/ The Universe/ Mythology of choice figurehead in a human body* . Detachment has no quantification, things just are. No good no bad no more no less no- just- *There Is* and *I Am* . That, that is when it all happens. Detachment is indifference. Detachment is femininity. Femininity is abundance.

Going ghost to work on yourself is like going to the curb to work on your driving skills. Isolation is death get this now againnn social species. That's like going away from water to learn to swim you are a cowarddd work on yourself in crowds THEN you'll be unstoppable. In face when you want to work on yourself throw yourself into people. Phobias are treated in presence of their triggers not absence? If you want to work on yourself as a gf get a boyfriend then work on yourself as a gf, how will you do that when you're single how does that work. Isolation is cowardice okay? No going ghost no sigma LEARN to survive with people and thrive, not despite them, but because of them. It's not like you're a cow so.

[mymoshangthoughts]

oki i know we've all just chosen to accept that beatings are a part of demon mating culture and like, i dont think thats 100% wrong, but also thinking about linguang-jun's reaction to seeing shang qinghua beaten at the ascension incident, im kinda hesitant to fall into it 100%

oki my biggest defense for it being a demon-culture thing is that sha hualing didn't show any disagreement when mobei jun suggested "three beatings a day" in that particularly hilarious conversation, but that's honestly pretty thin. we know that she loves binghe and she never makes any attempt to fight him or to have him fight her. if anything, she strives to avoid it

there's also the possibility that the 'beating' that linguang-jun witnessed the conclusion of was a particularly unromantic one via demon standards. he saw shang qinghua and said "oh you were clearly displeased with him" so mayyybbee there's something to the pattern of bruises that speaks to intent but again, that's pretty thin

so might i suggest, from my humble little insane brain, that rather than beatings being a demon-culture thing, mobei jun is just fucking weird

oki bear with me oki but i rlly like this idea a lot LOL

im not even saying that mobei jun is a sadist (altho def not opposed to that), im saying that my socially awkward icy demon lord just straight up has no good concept of how to get the attention of his intended and this is sincerely his best effort. there's no research, no demon custom, no human custom, it's just mobei jun desperately screaming "look at meeeeeee pleaaassseeee" in his own extremely unique way that fucking no one understands

i would defend that this is likely due to his fucked up childhood and trust issues. like maybe linguang-jun isolated him to such an extent that mobei-jun winds up relatively divorced from his own culture for courting and doesnt even fucking know the first thing about it. maybe he has some twisted history of "look the only time i was shown affection was during martial training, which were basically beatings, so beatings = affection, yeah?" or maybe he's just so stupid and desperate that he has no fucking idea and no real plan, he's just trying to get shang qinghua's attention by any means necessary

i sort of like a mixture of all of the above. like linguang jun was the only person who showed him more typical signs of affection, and that was the prelude to betrayal. so mobei jun doesnt trust those types of affectionate gestures. but when he received martial training, either from his uncle or in one of the handful of times he'd seen his father, it was at least useful. like he can remember getting beaten and know there was an honesty to it. beating him made him stronger, being strong helped him to survive, it was the truest affection he's received in his life. and look, mobei jun hasn't exactly put all of that together all of that in as many words, but the effect is long lasting. and not all of shang qinghua's beatings were out of affection either. ultimately, there's this suspicious as fuck cultivator who's groveling at his feet and mobei-jun isnt exactly keen on humanity to begin with. and with shang qinghua prone to more typical shows of affection, the way his uncle was before the Betrayal? he's not going to be tricked again! he'll beat the human into submission to prove that he's strong and he's not a small defenseless child anymore who can be so ruthlessly abandoned! but then he really does start to develop feelings for shang qinghua and really does want his attention and qinghua simply wont look at him. sure, he'll throw out a million words of groveling and acting pathetic, but what does any of that even fucking mean?! does qinghua only see him as a king? does qinghua even see him as that or is he waiting for a chance to betray him? how can he get shang qinghua's attention? how can he keep him? and so he thinks about his only fond memories of 'affection' and starts the habit of beating qinghua lightly three times a day. it's gotta work. it totally has to work. it MUST be working, bc qinghua just told the demon emperor that acting pathetic is a way of showing affection!!! SO CLEARLY QINGHUA MUST LOOK AT HIM NOW RIGHT?!!? but their relationship just doesnt seem to be progressing and after the qinghua saves him from falling, mobei jun now has a brand new "height of being show affection" memory to cling to but its... very much the opposite of his memories of being beaten. and a whole lot better too. being caught by shang qinghua and protected in that way has his heart thudding every time he remembers it and suddenly beating qinghua has lost its appeal. how can he do something for qinghua that matches that feeling??? because now it feels poultry to offer qinghua mere beatings when those barely even seem enjoyable for qinghua anyway??? and he doesnt particularly enjoy qinghua acting pathetic for him either, even if he knows theres affection behind the gesture, and qinghua always acts extra pathetic during beatings so thats another reason to lay off. so mobei jun is in the middle of contemplating this shit and stops beating qinghua so much when suddenly its time for his ascension ceremony and he drags qinghua there with him and now qinghua is talking about leaving him and mobei jun's heart just about shatters. is it because he laid off on the beatings? is it because qinghua was always planning to betray him, the way he always feared? is it because mobei jun misread this whole thing? in front of his dead fathers door, a man who never gave much of a fuck about him, while anticipating the arrival of his horrible uncle, vulnerable and reminded of every reason he's never trusted traditional shows of intimacy and so he tells qinghua to fuck off, beats him without any affectionate intentions, and greets his uncle in heartbroken misery. but then qinghua COMES BACK WHEN HE NEEDS HIM and he apparently always hated the beatings which is a blow but also now QINGHUA IS LEAVING HIM AGAIN AND THIS IS HELL, MOBEI IS IN HELL RN.

and not to mention, he witnessed linguang-jun beating shang qinghua and suddenly, he doesnt even know why he ever thought beatings were all that affectionate either because this is horrible and he hates it and mobei jun is Not Equipped To Cope With Guilt, it's not something he's been trained in and he is not coping with ANY of this well tbh, not his uncle, not his heartbreak, and he just wants the familiarity of shang qinghua's normal pathetic behavior. something normal. something to ground him. but shang qinghua is not normal right now and he's still planning to LEAVE and mobei jun is all panic, no thoughts. and now shang qinghua is saying shit like "you only beat me cuz i was easy-going and weak" and ow? that hurts? and then shang qinghua is saying he was only ever indulging mobei jun and OW? THAT HURTS?! and mobei jun is prideful and in pain and upset so he's relying on familiar emotions. being angry. being prideful. being haughty. pretending he has any control over this situation. unsure how to act outside of their normal dynamic. unsure how to respond to this very different side of qinghua. but no matter what he says, qinghua is leaving. qinghua pinches his cheeks and insults him and calls him spoiled even when he's seen directly how his own uncle treats him and calls himself his father in front of the room where his father lies dead and yeah, it hurts when qinghua pinches his cheeks. not just the physical pain, but the knowledge that qinghua wants to hurt him. that hurts most of all and it's pathetic but mobei jun's head is swimming with the knowledge that maybe violence was never a good idea between them but what else can he do in this situation? he's completely out of his depth! so he threatens qinghua not to leave and he still LEAVES

so now he's trying to find qinghua and the entire time his mind is a complete mess of emotions because was he wrong all this time and qinghua cannot be gone, thats unacceptable, and what can he offer to make qinghua stay? how can he possibly not lose this person?? and the best he can think of is to let qinghua hurt him in return, let him get his licks in, and maybe that will help

but shang qinghua doesnt hit him when offered and qinghua seems a bit scared of him and for the first time ever that seems kinda fucking awful and mobei jun is out of his depth, but the warmth he feels when shang qinghua wont hit him is really... something. and maybe theres a lot more shows of affection he should be learning, like the feeling when someone could hit you but chooses not to. and look, he's starting from abysmal standards. and yeah, when shang qinghua suggests he cook for him that sounds weird and demeaning and mobei jun instinctively wants to turn it down

but when he thinks about how it might be a way to show affection that they both appreciate, he's really determined to see it through

anyway thats a verrrryyyyy long over-explanation as to why i dont think the beatings are demon culture, i think mobei jun is just a terminally awkward traumatized weirdo who doesnt know how to communicate

[waywardwhispersblaze]

Hey, thank you for your thoughts, this is a great discussion.

I also thought that Vi using the Grey was consistent with her stint with Jayce in season 1 ("one dead kid? There's plenty more where he came from!"). The use of the Grey isn't harmless, but it was targeted, and... I can see that from her point of view, it's still better than letting Piltover invade the Undercity in full force, which would've resulted in way more casualties. It would've been nice to see her explore other solutions before going with the Grey, but that part of the story was understandable enough. I genuinely think Vi and Jinx both have a point when they confront each other, but the thing is, the writers tend to present Vi's point of view with short lines of dialogue, while simultaneously going to great lengths to show us how Jinx sees her, as you say, so ultimately it does feel unbalanced in the way it is framed.

And while I know this is probably an unpopular take, I also think they did Vi's character a disservice by not really involving her more with enforcers in general. It would have been nice to see her interact with more people than just Caitlyn and Loris, especially in the finale, and it would have been nice to see how the enforcers come to see her. There could've been a story about her gaining their respect for the right reasons. They have Maddie briefly mention in act I how she's supposed to be a legend among enforcers (which... OK. Not for the right reasons lol. And I don't think this is a lie. She said that in front of Steb and Loris, and they had no reaction. A lie this big would've been dangerous for her cover), but it's never really elaborated on. There could've been a story about the enforcers gaining respect for Zaunites in general, which I think is hinted at during "the line" montage, but again, no elaboration, and no tie back to Vi's involvement with them. There could've been a story of Vi discovering what she wants to do for the city outside of getting revenge on Silco. There would've been plenty of opportunities to show us through these stories a more nuanced take than "Vi turned her back on her people just for Caitlyn's sake".

Vi is supposed to be a Piltover champion at the end of the day, but it really feels like that part is missing from her story. Alas, there Wasn't Enough Time (I take solace in the fact that most storylines suffered from this, not just Vi's).

(agree with your thoughts on Caitlyn, too)

Caitlyn and Vi weaponizing toxic air pollution against the undercity and then Jinx and Sevika using Janna’s temple to recreate her legendary miracle by blowing that toxic air back onto Piltover.

Jinx (and Sevika) just became the hero Zaun needs.

[earthchica]

Persuasive | 2

supervisor! terry richmond x black, fem! reader { office siren }

summary: You get a little taste of your medicine from Terry when he locked you both in a storage room.

warnings: explicit smut (18+), dom & sub, fingering, oral (m&f), dirty talking, public foreplay, unprotected sex, praise kink, flirting, sexual teasing, size kink, you have a last name (miss. hayes), nicknames { baby, baby girl, good girl, good slut, pretty girl, & more } words: 6k

note: hiiii, I hope y'all had a great Christmas. here's part 2, unedited, with some errors, lol. Thank you, and please enjoy it.

part one

The morning sun poured into the office as you sauntered in, a grin on your face, excitement buzzing through you like electricity. You had a plan ready to keep Terry on his toes and remind him of the chemistry crackling between you two.

But as the hours ticked by, you couldn’t shake the growing unease in your stomach; you got up, went to his office, knocked, and heard him back in your chair, biting your lip.

There was something different about him today—he seemed sharper and more assertive, and you couldn't help but feel a little flutter in your stomach.

“Hey, Terry,” you started, a teasing lilt in your voice. “Remember yesterday? You were all weak in the knees; couldn’t even handle being patient!” You leaned forward, giving him a playful smirk.

Terry raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Weak? Nah, I wouldn’t say that. You had me in a good spot, and I’ll give you that, but there's no way it’s happening again.”

His voice was low, rich with confidence, sending a shiver down your spine. You feigned innocence, biting your lip more to hide a grin. “Oh really? You may actin’ all stern and dom today, but just remember I could have you submissive again if I wanted to.”

“Look, you caught me slippin’ just once,” Terry shot back, crossing his arms. “I ain’t ashamed; you got me, but don’t get it twisted.” He held your gaze steady, letting the words hang like a challenge.

A thrill rushed through you, igniting something deep inside. “You think you can just flip it on me? Make me submit?” You tried to sound defiant but could feel the heat creeping up your cheeks.

Terry chuckled softly. “Oh, I know I can. I’ll have you begging for mercy when the time’s right.” His voice had that playful edge, teasing yet sincere, making you want to lean in closer.

You blinked, trying to play it tough. “I’m not begging for anything, Terry.” You rolled your eyes, “Oh, I beg to differ. You just wait. Remember, this ain’t over, not by a long shot.”

Terry pointed a finger playfully at you before leaning back in his chair. “And for now, you need to take a lunch break. You gonna listen to me, or I might decide to take you right here.”

You rolled your eyes again, but your heart raced. “Fine, I’ll take lunch. Only because I’m hungry!” You said, leaving his office and trying to shake off the tension in the air.

His words lingered in your mind as you walked towards the break room. With every step, you attempted to push Terry out—his presence was heavy and electrifying, and knowing this game was far from over, you couldn’t shake off the sense.

After lunch, you were rummaged through the storage room, your mind buzzed from the brief yet intense exchange with Terry. The dim light cast shadows around you, the air thick with an electrifying tension that seemed to pulse with every breath you took.

As you reached for a box on the top shelf, you heard the door creak open and locked click shut. You turned, startled, and found Terry standing there, leaning against the door with that infuriating smirk.

“Need some help?” he asked, his tone playful yet laced with an unmistakable intensity. You hesitated momentarily, caught off guard by his presence dominating the small space.

Swallowing hard, you nodded. “Yeah, I could use a hand,” you managed, trying to sound casual despite the rush of adrenaline coursing through you.

Terry stepped forward, brushing against your back as he reached for the box you’d been eyeing. The heat emanating from him sent shivers down your spine, and you fought to maintain your composure.

“Got it,” he said smoothly, lifting the box quickly but not stepping back. Instead, he pressed his body against yours, his warmth enveloping you and nearly making your knees buckle.

“Thank you,” you stammered, focusing intently on the box's contents to distract yourself from how your heart raced. But the closeness was intoxicating, and you could feel Terry’s gaze on you.

It was predatory, like a lion observing its prey, making it harder to think straight. “So, what are you looking for in here?” he asked, a teasing glimmer in his eye as he leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear.

You shot back a feeble retort, trying to regain some control. “Just need some supplies. Nothing exciting.” But how he looked at you and his fingers brushed against your waist made your resolve waver.

His mere presence was dizzying, and every teasing remark he made sent waves of desire coursing through you. “Are you sure? Because I could think of a few things you might need,” he replied, his voice dropping lower as he leaned closer.

You turned to face him fully, fire igniting in your belly as you met his eyes. “Oh really? And what might those be?” you challenged, your heart racing faster than you could manage.

Without a word, he leaned in and kissed your cheek softly, an innocuous touch that sent shockwaves through you. “Maybe I could start with this…” he murmured, continuing to trail kisses along your neck.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat, desperately trying to maintain your composure as your mind raced. “Terry—” you began, but you couldn’t hold back any longer.

Terry grabbed your face and kissed you softly, feeling the warmth of his lips against yours. You responded instantly, feeling him wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

The kiss deepened, filled with urgency and lust. Terry pulled away from the kiss with a playful grin and looked down at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Terry began to circle around while staring at you before coming behind you. "I told you it wasn't over," Terry said, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning in.

He pushed your hair to the side; you felt the warmth of his breath on the back of your neck. “Terry, please,” you breathed, feeling your heart pound in resonance with the desire between you.

“Fuck, you’re fucking sexy. I don’t know how you can walk around here without driving everyone insane.” Terry said, grinding against your ass, letting you feel the harden on in his pants.

You gasped, closing your eyes while he cupped your breasts with his large hands and kissed your neck. Wetness flooded your panties, but you quickly masked it with a layer of refusal.

“Flattery won’t work on me,” you replied, trying to play it cool, though your voice trembled slightly. “Oh, it’s not flattery. It’s just the truth,” he insisted with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“You’re stunning, and I’m not just talking about your appearance. It’s how you carry yourself, the fire in your eyes when you’re passionate about something. That’s what I want.”

His gaze softened, revealing sincerity among the teasing. “And right now, all I can think about is how much I want you.” He added. You swallowed hard, caught off guard by his confession.

“Do you want me, baby?” Terry asked softly, his voice almost caressed.

"I-" you started.

"I know you do, but I need to hear the words. Come on, baby, be a good girl and use your words for me. You had a lot to say earlier?" Terry whispered.

"Yes, Terry, please. I want you; I need you, please!" You moaned, begging softly, and his large hand slid down to your stomach to your core; you bit your lip.

"Take your panties off for me, baby," Terry ordered, and you did what you were told. Terry kisses your neck again before lifting your skirt up and spreading your legs wide to slide his hand down your wet pussy lips.

His fingers worked methodically, flicking and pressing, bringing heat and circulation. You couldn't help but hold a moan of pleasure, gripping his hip and your body relaxing into the back of his chest.

"You tryin’ to keep it quiet? Nah, I wanna hear you, lil mama. How does it feel? It feels good, huh?" Terry asked, his voice smooth and light.

With every added finger and stroke, you couldn't suppress the pleasure you were feeling. "Yes, Terry. It feels so good, I can’t even-" you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper.

Terry chuckled softly, cradling your pussy in his hand, fingers thrusting between your pussy lips at a fast pace. “Mmm, this pussy is so tight and wet! Is all this wetness for me? I got you so soaked, huh?”.

Another moan escaped your lips, this time louder, unable to contain the pleasure building within you. "Fuck, yes, it's all for you, Terry! ahh, your fingers...I wish it was your dick."

Terry chuckled, his fingers applying the right fast pace, driving you wild. "Mmmm, I bet. How bad you've been wanting me fucking you?" he asked, grabbing your neck with his other hand.

You moaned and looked at him, eyes sparkling warmly. "So bad, so bad I always dreamed you fucking me like a good little slut until I beg to cum on your dick" you confessed.

"Is that what you want, lil mama. I can make that happen only if you're a good girl. Good girls are good and obey; you think you can do that?" He asked whispering, pecking your lips.

"Yes, Terry, I'm a good girl, and I can be, I promise," you whispered, closing your eyes, allowing yourself to sink deeper into his fingers and feel slightly close to the edge.

"Mmmm, I got you," He said with a low chuckle, and you were about to moan out as your response when you heard a knock on the storage door.

It was like someone trying to get in, but it was locked. Terry covered your mouth and continued to work his magic on your pussy, keeping his eyes locked on the door, his movements steady and calm.

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you began to squirm against him, feeling yourself getting close to cumming, "Shh, hold on a second," he whispered, his voice low and soothing.

A few moments passed, and he leaned closer, his breath warm against your dark brown skin. "Be a good girl; they’ll pass soon enough; and then you can cum"

As the knocking disappeared, and heard footsteps move away. "Cum for me, cum for me, beautiful girl, such a good girl," Terry said, and your orgasm hit you hard, causing you to let out a muffled moan of pleasure.

Terry handled you up as you came down, trailing kisses your neck before fixing your skirt and moving in front of you. He put your panties into his pocket before pressing a passionate kiss on you.

You pulled away from the kiss, "Shit, Terry! That was so....amazing, and we almost got caught," you replied, your voice a mix of breathless and excited.

Terry chuckled softly, pulling you closer. "Yeah, it was, and that was kinda risky, but it was worth it, right?" He asked.

"Yes, it was," you said, still catching your breath and steadying your legs better now.

"Good! How about we keep this goin'? I'm thinkin' dinner at my place, then we can finish what we started," Terry asked, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist before sliding to your ass.

You felt a smile creep onto your face. "Dinner, huh? Like a date?" you teased. Terry leaned in a little, a playful glint in his eyes. "Sure, like a date." He said, his confidence making your heart flutter.

"Alright then," you said, feeling a rush of excitement. "But you better make it good!" You added, and he laughed.

"I'll ensure you won't regret it. Now come on, let's get outta here before anyone else decides to come looking again." With that, he led you to the door, anticipation bubbling between you both.

As you both settled back into work after that intense moment, Terry casually glanced your way here and there. Finally, work was over, and you were home now.

You rummaged through your closet, pulling out a couple of dresses before you settled on one that always made you feel confident and comfortable.

It was a little sexy, just how you wanted it. As you slipped it on, you couldn’t help but smile; the dress's color highlighted your dark brown skin tone and curvy hips.

Then came the moment of truth: the hair and makeup. You took your time, doing each step carefully, but your mind kept drifting back to Terry.

“Alright, girl, just be you,” you said to your reflection, adjusting the final touches. You gave yourself one last look, and feeling somewhat satisfied, you grabbed your phone, keys, and bag while headed out.

-

As you pulled up to Terry's house, your heart raced with anticipation. The warm glow from the porch light illuminated the yard, and you could see him waiting at the door.

When exited the car, you took a deep breath, feeling the cool evening air brush against your skin. The door creaked open, and there stood Terry with a smile on his face.

Terry looked effortlessly sexy in a long-sleeved fitted shirt that hugged his muscles just right. His eyes lit up when he saw you, noting how the dress flowed around your curves.

“Damn, you look fine as hell,” Terry said, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Thanks! I was hopin’ you’d like it,” you replied, a playful smile crossing your lips.

He stepped aside, gesturing for you to come in. “Like it? Baby, I love it. Please, come on in.” You could feel his gaze lingering on you as you walked past him, sending a thrill through your body.

Once inside, the atmosphere was cozy; the lights were dim, a soft tune playing in the background. You turned to face him, and for a brief moment, you both just stood there, locked in each other's eyes.

“You really are something special, you know that?” Terry said, his voice low and sincere. You felt a rush of warmth at his compliment. “You ain't too bad yourself, Terry.”

Laughter bubbled between you, but then the tension shifted, and suddenly, it was just you two in the room. Without even thinking, you took a step closer.

Terry did the same, closing the distance until barely any space left. As he leaned in, the world around you faded; all you could focus on was how he looked at you.

Then, he kissed you in a moment that felt like it lasted forever. The gentle press of his lips ignited a spark, and you melted against him, forgetting all about the dinner you had planned.

The kiss was hungry and sweet as if he had been waiting all day for this. As the kiss deepened, it felt electric. You lose yourself in the way his tongue dances along yours.

You finally pull back, breathless and dazed, your heart racing; Terry began leaving trails of kisses to your neck to your breasts, You cupped them through your dress, sucking and licking the cleavage part that was exposed.

"Terry...ahh...what-what about dinner?" You moaned, caressing the back of his neck, and he pulled away from your breasts and looked down at you with those eyes.

"Mmm, dinner can wait. I need you; at least you want me to stop," He expressed. "No, don't stop, please don't," You said, pulling him into a kiss and he picked you up bridal style.

Terry took you to his bedroom, which had candlelight and roses on the bed, causing you to chuckle. You bit your lip, once he put you down on your feet at the edge of his bed.

You kissed him, taking his shirt off as he unzipped your dress, growling at the sight of your body, you weren't wearing a bra and just black panties.

"Wow, you are so perfect! Pretty girl with the pretty body," Terry said; his voice was sincere and low, making your panties have been wetter as he cupped your hips, slightly turning you to caress your ass.

"Ahh, Terry. I-I need that dick; I’m looking forward to wrapping my mouth around your dick," You moaned, sliding your hand down budge in his pants.

Terry moaned, leaning his forehead against yours, breath slightly hitched. "Fuck, that's what you want huh, have ."

"Mmm, yes, please, Terry. You can fuck my face as much as you want. I know you would love that?" You whispered in his ear, unzipping his pants and pushing them down.

You looked down to see his dick print. "Mmm, you're so big. I hope I fit your big dick in my mouth. Wouldn't you like that full mouth of your dick, Daddy?" You moaned, feeling him grasp your ass firmly as a reaction to you calling him that.

"Fuck, gonna be the death of me, baby girl. Getting on your fucking knees," Terry ordered, removing your hand and moving you down to the floor.

You look up at Terry lustfully as he takes his pants and underwear completely off before taking his big, hard throbbing dick in your eyesight, making your mouth water.

"Be a good girl, and suck it like you said you would," Terry said, shoving his dick in your mouth, causing you to moan; you popped him for a second before going back in.

You look at him, bobbing your head up and down his length, loving his expressions. "Ohhhh….baby, your mouth is perfect. Just like that, yes, baby fuck…."

"Do I look like a good little slut with your dick in my mouth?" You asked, pulling away for a second to stroke him with your hands, Terry gripped your hair gently.

You went back to suck him, moving your head up and down, giving him pleasure. "Mmmm, yes, baby," Terry says, without warning, he starts fucking your mouth.

You look up at him, feeling your eyes water slightly as the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat in an incredibly harsh way. "Ahhh, fuck lil mama, this-this so good"

Terry popped himself out of your mouth, and you gasped for air, chuckling as Salva dropped out of your mouth. "Fucking hit with your dick on my tongue, please, Daddy," you moaned.

Terry slapped his dick on your tongue. "You like that, huh? Nasty girl," He asked, completely amazed by you. "Mmm…yes! I love the way you taste." You said before letting you go back to suck.

You began stroking at the same time while still looking at him. "Mmm, daddy…I want all of your cum on my tongue. I want to taste it, Please, give it to me"

"Fuck, I'll give it to you since you've been such a good girl." Terry moaned, grabbing a chunk of your hair as he stroked his dick against your face.

You gripped the back of his legs; you could tell he was getting close to the edge by the way you were looking up at him. "fuck, fuck!!!!" Terry moaned.

His eyes rolled the back out of his head as he busted his full, hot load into your tongue; it got all over your face, causing you to smile at the sight.

You gazed up at Terry with a smile and sucked him back into your mouth, causing him to whimper slightly. "Fuck, you're killing me, girl," Terry moaned, watching you lick all the cum up.

He tried to catch his breath while walking to his bathroom to get a washcloth to wipe your face. Once cleaned up, you took your panties off, and Terry said, "Get on the bed and spread your legs for me."

You did what you were told, and Terry got on the bed and lifted your leg over his shoulder, loving the feel of the way he was looking up at you with those pretty eyes.

"Please, Daddy. I need you; I need your dick. I’m desperate to feel your dick throbbing inside me," You begged, craving him.

"Mmmm…be patient lil mama. I'mma give it to ya, but I want to taste this pretty pussy of yours…" Terry said before plunging his tongue between your wet folds.

His lips capture your clit, and he sucks it into his mouth, alternating between flicks with the tip of his tongue and light nibbles with his teeth.

"Ahh, ahhh, oh my goodness. Your tongue is..."You moaned and placed your hand on the back of his head as he went harder than before.

Terry pulls away for a second, rubbing your clit. "Mmm, I love this…I could eat this delicious pussy all night. Do you like it, beautiful? Do you like the way I'm eating this wet, juicy pussy."

"Ahh fuck, yes, daddy please more. I need you; I'm so close," You cried, gazing down at him for a second, and he grinned, sucking the soul out of you.

With no word, he began fingering you faster and harder then rubbing at your clit. "Ahh yes, just light that. Fuck, fuck i'm gonna cum yes, I'm gonna cum-!"

"That's it, good girl. Cum for me, cum for me, lil mama," Terry said, and your orgasm hit you hard, causing you to let out a scream of pleasure.

Terry slid you down to the edge of the other side of the bed, not waiting for you to calm down from your high before placing your leg on his shoulder to lay on your side.

"Fuck, daddy!" You moaned, feeling his slap on your pussy. Terry grabbed your leg and began stroking himself before moving to slide his dick up and down your wet folds.

"Please," you cried out, your voice thick with desperation as lust welled up inside you. "Please, what, baby?" Terry replied, his tone teasing yet earnest.

The soft light casts a warm glow on his features, accentuating his chiseled jawline and the intensity of his gaze. He looked utterly captivating, igniting hunger and urgency within you.

"Please fuck me but go slow; I want to feel every inch of that beautiful big dick entering my pussy, Daddy" You opened your mouth in an O as you looked up at him.

Terry thrusts the tip of his dick slowly into your pussy; you feel the tip was too much. “Wait, wait, ahh, I don’t think I can take it,” you cried, your voice slightly uncomfortable.

A rush of warmth surged through you, making your heart race. “Shh, baby girl,” Terry whispered softly, his voice soothingly against your rising anxiety.

“I’ll talk you through it; you can take it. You trust me, right?” He asked as his calm demeanor reassured you, and you bit your lip, feeling a flutter in your stomach.

After a moment’s hesitation, you nodded with determination. “Yes, I trust you, Daddy!” You said, looking at him shyly, and he smiled, taking his tip out slowly and preparing with a few fingers.

"Mmm, gotta open this tight little pussy up a little bit, so you can take this dick like a good girl right?" Terry asked, began fingering you a little bit, causing you to let out moans of pleasure.

"Yes, daddy. Am I your good girl? I want to earn your praise. Please tell me I’m your good girl," You moaned,

"You're such a good girl, baby, and you're doing so well for me," Terry said, still fingering you and gazing down at you with his eyes shimmered with pride.

"Keep those pretty eyes on me, beautiful girl." He says in his deep voice, and you obey and keep your eyes on him, feeling him go faster.

"Shit, daddy. Oh my god, you're stretching me out so good with your fingers." You moaned and struggled to break free, but his grip kept you in place.

Terry looked at you with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You think you can take it now? I really believe you can,” he said, his voice encouraging.

You smiled back, a feeling of determination bubbling up inside you. “Yes, I’m ready to give it another shot." You said with a moan, and he nodded; his dick rubbed against your wet folds, not daring to enter.

Terry slowly enters your wet pussy with just the tip, it wasn't that bad like the first time, and he could tell by the expression on your face. So he continued to go and asked.

"You're doing so well, baby. Fuck, I wish you could see how you look, so pretty" Terry said, wrapping your legs around his waist, looking at you as your eyes were closed shut tight.

Terry came down to leave trails of kisses down your neck to soothe the slight pain that was quickly going away as he started to thrusted slowly.

"Yes! Fuck, yes! So fucking big, you stretched me out and filled me up so good, Daddy." You moaned, feeling a wave of deep pleasure washed over you.

"Good girl, I could say the same, baby. I love how you gripping me with that pussy like that," Terry moaned, continuing to thrust slowly and gently.

"Mmm, I’ve been thinking about this moment all day. So far, it's amazing; you're amazing, Terry." You moaned, touching his hip and loving feeling the rhythm of his thrust.

"Do you like that, baby? Can you take it going a little faster for me?" Terry said with a low moan coming out of his mouth, and you nodded.

You grabbed the sheets, looking up at him. "Mmm, yes, ah yes ah…go faster, please," You moaned, and he came down to pull you into a kiss while going faster in his thrusts.

You pulled away and let out a loud moan. "Yes, fuck me, yes, yes, Daddy!" You cried as Terry raised a bit to grip your waist as one of your hands moved to grip his muscular, toned arms.

Both of you stared at each other while moaning at the great pleasure you two were receiving. You were loving the way every inch of his dick was pounding inside your soaked, wet pussy.

You began rubbing your clit to feel yourself rising again. "Oh, Daddy, it feels so good. Please don't stop, don't stop fucking me. Oh, shit." You cried, couldn't believe the great pleasure you were feeling.

"I won't, baby, I won't ever stop, baby…fuck…that pussy clenching that dick," Terry groaned, pushing your legs to close and gripping your ass cheek.

He began pounding into you, making your eyes roll in your head as you moaned out. "Is this pussy yours? Are you going to take it, Daddy?"

Your breasts bounced with every rhythm of thrust he gave you. He wrapped his hand around your neck while putting a finger in your mouth.

"Yeah, of course, this pussy is mine! No one else, you got that?" He said with a moan, and your body again began to shake as you felt your second orgasm begin to build and rise quickly.

"Yes, that's right, it's all yours, Daddy. Oh, fuck I think I'm gonna cum again" You cried tears in your eyes, and he kissed, feeling your walls tightening around him, and the next thing you knew.

"Fuck, me too. Baby, me too," Terry moaned, and both of you came together.

"Shit, baby, here it comes," Terry cursed as he pulled out and stroked his dick. "Yes, Daddy, cum all over this ass, mmm, I want to feel it on my skin," You moaned.

Terry releases his hot cum against your round, plump ass cheek. His eyes were closed as you shook from the same, and he couldn't keep his balance.

You inhaled deeply as he tumbled onto you for a brief moment, the warmth of his body pressing against yours before he gracefully rolled onto his back, shifting to the other side of the bed.

You felt your heart race as you glanced over at him. His expression was blissful, a soft smile playing on his lips as he stared up at the ceiling, completely lost in the moment.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip, captivated by the sight of him. As you continued to watch him, lost in your thoughts, Terry turned his head and caught you staring.

And before you could react, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, soft and lingering. It sent a spark through you, making your heart race even more.

“Mmm, that was good,” he said, pulling back slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “How ‘bout we hit the shower?.” He stretched his arms above his head, showing off those muscles, and you couldn’t help but admire how he moved.

You laughed a little, unable to stifle the smile that crept onto your face. “You just wanna get me all wet again, huh?” you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Terry chuckled, leaning closer again. “Maybe, but I also wanna clean you up and eat that dinner I made. Ain’t no way I’m lettin’ it go to waste, especially not after all that work I put in.”

“Right, I forgot.” You sighed. “You think it’ll still taste good?” you added and Terry shrugged, the playful glint in his eyes never fading.

“It's in a crock-pot, so I think it's good, and it’ll be fire. But first, let’s wash off. C’mon, I’ll race you to the bathroom!”

A few moments later, he returned, grinning from ear to ear. “What’s taking you so long?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

You feigned a dramatic sigh, looking down at your legs. “I’m not sure I can move. I think I’ve lost feeling in my legs!” You wiggled them playfully, but it felt like a stretch to stand.

Terry’s smile widened as he approached you, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “I must have done some serious work if your legs feel like jello, huh?” He knelt down, reaching for you.

With a little laugh, you playfully pushed his shoulder as he picked you up and took you to the bathroom. At that moment, everything felt perfect, and you hoped to turn whatever this was into something memorable.

[koalapastries-writes]

*coughcough* lando/kimi/ollie/oscar/lance/yuki (separate not polyam lol) and their reactions to a) reader leaving them limping and b) readers back being a scratched up MESS

(sorry if this is too much 🤪)

love ya (hehehehehehehe) 😘

-bear ❤️

love you bear <3

under cut bc nsfw. obviously.

kimi antonelli:

at first he's soooooo bitter about not being able to walk normally

he's cussing you out in italian under his breath

i mean he literally told you he wanted you to go as hard as you could

but he doesn't like dealing with the consequences of his actions

he's making the most exaggerated wincing faces whenever he passes you with his limp

you don't say anything for a while

but when he starts being too much of a brat

you'll take your shirt off and turn around to show him the deep red lines going down the length of your back

kimi's blushing like crazy but

he's also proud

like yeah

his bf is so good you got him to do THAT to you without even knowing it

lance stroll:

i've said it before and i'll say it again

lance is a princess

more than that, he's your princess

which means you leave him limping frequently, and he leaves intricately scratched patterns on your back just as often

he'll be so whiny and demanding about it but in a cute way?

like he doesn't really need much. he asks you to lie down on your stomach while he takes a picture of your back for his collection, asks you to carry him to the sofa and get him some food

and then he's pretty content to watch a tv show while you do whatever because he can still see you

the only hard and fast rule is that you must never wear a shirt at home when your back's scratched up

be proud of his work please and thank you

lando norris:

brat

you know how the most pampered dog in existence sighs like he's had the most terribly horrible pathetic life

that's what lando does

he'll sleep later than you, so you're already dressed by the time he wakes up

you bring him breakfast in bed, kiss his forehead, make sure his water is still cold, and let him ramble to you about whatever strange dream he had the night before like you always do

but then he'll shift and feel that ache (totally whines about how unfair it is that something that feels soooo good can then make him feel bad things. calls it a sex hangover)

and he'll definitely drop food on your shirt specifically

neither of you know how it always hits you and not him but lando's certainly not complaining

breakfast in bed + his boyfriends gorgeous body? what more could a guy want

immediately shuts up and stops being obnoxious when he sees how he's basically shredded your back

k bear i'm gonna ask you to send me this again with ollie oscar and yuki bc i wanna get this out now as a thank you for helping tonight but i am also almost falling asleep at my computer 💔 i will definitely write the other half, just ... when i can see the keyboard again lol

[mhsofe]

Reunion With The Crew | Jimmy × Reader.

♡ in this au, the pony express shuts down and all of them just pretty much have normal lifes lol

(pretty much kinda ooc but idc, i want all of them to be happy 💔)

CW: mild language, alcohol consumption, SLIGHTTTT mouth to mouth feed. (bare with me ladies and gentlemens..)

You walked into the living room where Jimmy was sprawled on the couch, completely engrossed in the TV. His eyes flickered to you for a brief second before he turned his attention back to the screen.

"Jimmy."

No response.

"Jimmy."

Silence. You crossed your arms, a little frustrated, and tried again.

"Hey, babe," you said, this time with more authority in your voice. Your tone caught his attention, and he finally let out a grunt, slowly turning his head toward you. "What? Can't you see I'm watchin' TV?"

You shook your head with a small, amused smile and sat down beside him, showing him your phone screen. "Well, I got a text from Daisuke," you said, tapping the message to make sure he saw it. "He's inviting us to his house for a reunion."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, scanning the text, then glanced at you with mild curiosity. "Hm. So, ya wanna go to his house?"

You could practically feel the enthusiasm bubbling inside you. You’d been wanting a reason to catch up with everyone, and this felt like the perfect opportunity. You gave him a wide grin and nodded. "Of course! The others are also coming, and it’s been so long since we’ve all, you know... met up or done something together. It's a great chance for a little reunion!"

Jimmy looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, like he was weighing the options in his head. His eyes softened after a second, and he let out a long sigh. "Fine, maybe catching up with Curly wouldn't be so bad."

He pushed himself up from the couch, stretching with a grunt. His gaze fell on you again as he towered over you. "Get ready, babe."

You couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across your face, and before you even realized it, you lunged at his back, wrapping your arms around him in an unexpected hug. "I knew you’d accept!" you exclaimed, laughing into his shoulder.

You pulled away, feeling a little giddy as you ran to the shared bedroom to get ready for the night. Jimmy watched you for a moment, still smiling, before grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair and heading toward the door.

A few minutes later, you stepped out of the bedroom, fully ready, and made your way toward the front door where Jimmy was waiting. As soon as you appeared, he couldn't help but take an appreciative look, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. He slightly leaned against the wall, clearly caught off guard by how stunning you looked.

"Damn," was all he managed to say, his voice low and full of admiration, his gaze lingering on you with no attempt to hide it.

You let out a light chuckle, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Eyes up here, mister," you teased, pointing toward your face.

Jimmy quickly cleared his throat, blinking a couple of times as he snapped out of his daze. "Well, damn baby," he said, his voice rougher now with genuine appreciation. "You look... good." He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered but still smirking as he tried to regain some composure.

You grinned, feeling both flattered and amused by the effect you had on him. Jimmy pulled his keys out of his pocket, fumbling slightly as he unlocked the door to the car. "Let's go," he said, trying to sound casual but with a hint of excitement in his voice. "We wouldn’t want our friends to keep waiting."

As he opened the door, you slid into the passenger seat, feeling the warmth of the moment. Jimmy hopped in next to you, his smile never fading as he started the car. The drive to Daisuke’s place was filled with light conversation and laughter, the anticipation of the night ahead adding a spark to the atmosphere.

As you arrived at Daisuke's house, the excitement bubbling inside you was impossible to ignore. The lights from the house glowed warmly, and you could hear faint chatter and laughter from inside. The thought of seeing everyone again made your heart race.

Jimmy pulled the car up to the porch and barely had time to put it in park before you were out, slamming the door shut in your eagerness. "Easy on the car!" he called out, a hint of amusement in his tone, as he quickly followed behind you.

You practically bounced up the steps and rang the doorbell, unable to stop yourself from smiling. A few seconds passed before the door was flung open with dramatic energy. Standing there was none other than Daisuke, grinning wide as he looked at you and Jimmy.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up!" Daisuke said, his voice full of mock scolding but with a warm undertone. He looked you up and down with an exaggerated whistle. "Damn, looking sharp! And Jimmy, good to see you didn’t let her outshine you completely."

Jimmy rolled his eyes, smirking. "Yeah, yeah, let us in before you freeze the whole neighborhood."

Daisuke laughed and stepped aside, motioning for the two of you to come in. As you stepped inside, the familiar buzz of conversation and the sound of clinking glasses filled the air. The living room was full of familiar faces, and the cozy warmth of the space made you feel right at home.

"Everyone’s here already," Daisuke said, gesturing to the group. "So grab a drink and join the party!"

"Where the hell is Anya?! I miss that girl!" you shouted, your voice carrying over the buzz of the room. As you looked around, your eyes landed on a familiar figure ahead of you. Without hesitation, you gasped and quickly lunged forward, arms wide open.

"ANYAAA!" you yelled, wrapping your arms around her from behind. The poor woman let out a startled gasp, stumbling slightly under the force of your hug.

"Oh, God, you scared me," Anya said with a soft laugh, turning her head to look at you. Despite the surprise, her smile was warm and genuine. "It’s been too long!" she added, patting your arm affectionately as she caught her breath.

Jimmy, who had been watching the interaction with mild amusement, suddenly tensed up when he felt a hand land firmly on his shoulder. Instinctively, he turned quickly, ready to react, only to be met with the wide grin of another familiar face.

"Jimmy! Nice to see you, man!" Curly’s voice was full of enthusiasm, his grip on Jimmy’s shoulder strong and friendly.

Jimmy relaxed, a smirk forming on his face. "Curly," he greeted with a nod. "Still as loud as ever, I see."

"Of course!" Curly laughed, throwing an arm around Jimmy’s shoulders. "Wouldn’t be me otherwise, huh? And look at you two," he added, glancing between you and Jimmy. "Still the power couple, huh?"

You laughed, finally letting go of Anya. "You know it!" you said, giving Jimmy a playful nudge. Anya smiled softly at the reunion, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "It’s good to see everyone again," she said, her voice warm.

"Alright, come on, drinks are in the kitchen," Curly announced, gesturing for the group to follow him. "We’ve got a lot of catching up to do!"

As the four of you made your way into the living room, the scene was already lively. Daisuke and Swansea were busy arranging platters of food on the table, their banter filling the air. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt as you realized you hadn’t brought anything to contribute.

"Damn, I should've brought something," you muttered, guilt lacing your voice as you crossed your arms.

Before you could dwell on it further, you felt a comforting weight on your left shoulder. Jimmy had leaned in close, his warm breath brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Hey, it’s fine. Just enjoy the party, baby."

His voice, low and soothing, immediately melted your worries. You smiled softly, stealing a glance at him before looking back at the lively scene in front of you. Taking a deep breath, you shook off the guilt. "Well, let’s get this party started!" you declared with a grin, your excitement taking over.

"WOOHOOO!" Daisuke hollered, suddenly standing on top of a very expensive-looking chair, waving a bottle of soda around like a trophy.

Swansea, clearly unimpressed, let out an exaggerated sigh, rubbing his temple. "Get the hell down, youngster," he warned, picking up a brightly colored piñata stick with a dramatic flair, "before I swing this piñata axe straight into your face."

The room erupted into laughter, Curly doubling over as he clapped his hands. "Swansea, man, you’re one,of,a,kind!"

Daisuke, unbothered, raised his soda bottle higher. "You wouldn’t dare! I’m the life of this party!"

Swansea cocked an eyebrow, his expression deadpan. "Try me."

Jimmy chuckled beside you, shaking his head at the chaos. "Same group, same energy," he muttered with amusement, slipping an arm around your waist.

You leaned into him, laughing along with the others. "Well, let’s get some snacks. I’m hungry," you said, breaking away from the commotion and nudging Jimmy lightly.

Jimmy nodded, but as you turned toward the table, his gaze lingered on you. His eyes naturally found their way to your lips, his thoughts momentarily wandering as he followed you across the room.

"Jimmy?" you called, glancing over your shoulder when you noticed he hadn’t responded.

"Huh?" he blinked, snapping out of it and clearing his throat, quickly trying to play it cool. "Yeah, snacks. Let’s grab some."

You raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at your lips. "You okay there? Seemed a little distracted," you teased lightly, turning fully to face him.

Jimmy scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks faintly flushing. "Yeah, I’m fine," he said, his voice a little gruffer than usual. "Just... thinking about how lucky I am."

Your smirk softened into a smile as you stepped closer, playfully poking his chest. "You’re smooth, you know that?"

He shrugged, his lips curling into a small, cocky grin. "Only for you, baby."

Shaking your head, you grabbed his hand and led him toward the table where Swansea had just finished arranging an impressive array of snacks. "Come on, let’s eat before Daisuke wipes the table clean."

Jimmy laughed, following your lead. "Good point. That guy’s got no chill when it comes to food."

The two of you grabbed plates and filled them with whatever caught your eye, the warmth of the moment making the party feel even more perfect.

After both of you finished piling food onto your plates, you led Jimmy over to the couch. The two of you settled in, balancing your plates as the lively chatter of the party buzzed around you.

As you looked at the table in front of you, your eyes lit up when you spotted a bottle of alcohol. Grinning, you picked it up and held it out to Jimmy. "Look, Jimmy, alcohol," you said, your voice laced with playful excitement.

Jimmy glanced at the bottle, his lips curling into a smirk, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "Well, well," he said, leaning back and eyeing it like it was a prize. "You know I can’t say no to that."

You chuckled, opening the bottle and grabbing two glasses from the table. "I thought as much. Let’s toast to tonight, yeah?"

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. "To tonight? What about?"

"To seeing old friends," you said with a soft smile, pouring the drink into both glasses. "And to us, of course."

Jimmy took one of the glasses, his expression softening as he looked at you. "To us," he echoed, clinking his glass against yours before taking a sip.

The alcohol burned just right as it went down, and you couldn’t help but laugh as Jimmy winced slightly. "Strong, huh?" you teased.

"Yeah, but it’s good," he replied, smirking as he set his glass down. "Just like this night."

You leaned back into the couch, savoring the moment as the warmth of the drink mixed with the warmth of the company. It was shaping up to be a night you wouldn’t forget.

Jimmy picked up a small piece of food from his plate, holding it out to you. "Here, have some of mine," he said, his voice soft yet teasing. You leaned forward, parting your lips slightly as you took the food from his fingers.

Your lips lingered just a moment too long, wrapping around the tips of his fingers before pulling away. The heat in his gaze met yours, and the room seemed to grow quieter, the world fading away as the two of you locked eyes. The eye contact was intense-too damn strong

Jimmy's breath hitched as he felt the light graze of your tongue against his skin, his heart skipping a beat. His fingers twitched slightly, as though they wanted to stay where they were, but he pulled his hand back slowly, his gaze never leaving yours.

You tilted your head, a playful smirk tugging at your lips as you noticed the faint flush rising on his cheeks. The expression in his eyes was a mix of surprise, desire, and something softer..something he always reserved just for you

"Careful... don't be a tease now," he warned with a small, crooked smile, though his voice was slightly breathless, betraying how affected he was. His words carried a mix of amusement and affection, but there was an underlying edge of desire that sent a thrill down your spine. You leaned back slightly, licking your lips in a way that felt deliberate.

"Who, me?" you asked innocently, though the playful glint in your eyes said otherwise. Jimmy chuckled, shaking his head, his hand moving to rest on your knee. "You're dangerous, you know that?" he murmured, his tone a little lower, a little rougher.

You chuckled as you grabbed the bottle of champagne and took a deep swig, the fizzy drink going down a little too smoothly. Jimmy watched, his eyes slightly widening at how quickly you drank. A mixture of worry and amusement flashed across his face. He leaned closer, placing a steadying hand on your thigh. "Hey, hey, careful now," he said gently, his thumb lightly brushing against your leg.

"Don't drink too fast, or you'll be out before the party's even halfway done." Jimmy looked at you with concern. "Noo, it's mineee," you slurred, hiccupping as the alcohol began working its way into your system.

Jimmy couldn't help but chuckle softly at your stubborn protest, though his concern lingered. "Yeah, and you'll be all mine to babysit if you keep this up," he teased, reaching for the bottle as if to stop you. You narrowed your eyes at him, mischief sparking in your expression.

Before he could react, you leaned in, pinning him gently against the couch. Your hand grasped his chin firmly as you closed the space between you, your lips capturing his in a bold, alcohol..fueled kiss.

The taste of champagne lingered between you, sweet and intoxicating, as some of it spilled from your lips and trailed down his chin. Jimmy's hands instinctively found your waist, pulling you closer, though his mind was half-focused on the chaos of the situation. As you both got lost in the moment, the sound of a door swinging open jolted you back to reality.

"WHOA, GUYS, WHAT'S GOING ON OVER HERE?" Daisuke's voice rang out, loud and dramatic, causing the entire room to pause.

Your head snapped up, cheeks flushing as you turned to see Daisuke standing there with his hands on his hips, a mix of shock and delight plastered on his face. Behind him, Anya looked completely stunned, her jaw slightly dropped. Curly, ever the instigator, raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Well, well, look who's stealing the show." And as always, Swansea remained unimpressed, shaking his head with a long sigh. "Oh, these kids," he muttered, rubbing his temple.

Jimmy groaned, tilting his head back against the couch in exasperation. "Great. Just great," he muttered, though the faintest smile tugged at his lips. You couldn't help but laugh, the embarrassment fading as the ridiculousness of the situation settled in.

"Guess we're the life of the party now," you said with a grin, wiping the champagne from Jimmy's chin. "Yeah, but next time," Jimmy said, giving you a pointed look, "maybe a little warning first?"

The others gradually returned to their conversations, leaving you, Jimmy, and Curly in your little corner of the room. Curly leaned casually against the arm of the couch, his mischievous grin growing as he eyed Jimmy.

"So, Jimmy," he began, his voice dripping with mock innocence, "how was it getting… mouth-needed by your partner?"

Jimmy’s head snapped up, his face flushing a deep red as he glared at Curly. "Shut up, Curly," he muttered through gritted teeth, rubbing the back of his neck in a futile attempt to hide his embarrassment.

You, still feeling the buzz from the champagne, let out a laugh, your head tilting as you watched the scene unfold. Curly’s grin widened at your reaction, clearly encouraged.

"Aw, come on, man," Curly continued, leaning in like he was about to share a juicy secret. "Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it. You looked like you were in a whole other world for a second there."

Jimmy groaned, dragging a hand down his face as if to wipe away the secondhand embarrassment. "Curly, I swear to God, drop it," he said, though his tone carried more resignation than anger.

You, finding the whole exchange amusing, raised your glass lazily. "It’s not like that," you slurred slightly, waving a hand dismissively. "We’re just... having fun, you know?"

Curly raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Fun, huh? Sure, I’ll buy that. But the way you two were looking at each other? Whew, sparks flying all over the place. Can’t blame a guy for noticing."

Jimmy’s groan deepened as he slouched further into the couch, his hand covering his eyes. "Why do I even talk to you?" he mumbled, though his lips twitched as if fighting back a smile.

Curly laughed, clearly pleased with himself. "Because you love me, bro. And because you know I’m right."

You chuckled softly, reaching out to pat Jimmy’s leg. "Relax, babe," you teased, leaning in slightly. "At least Curly’s paying attention to something other than his hair for once."

Curly gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "Wow, betrayal from both sides. I see how it is."

The playful banter eased the tension, leaving Jimmy shaking his head and muttering under his breath while you and Curly shared a laugh. Moments like these made the chaos of your friend group feel oddly perfect.

Finally, after Curly sauntered off, satisfied with the chaos he’d caused, Jimmy turned his attention back to you. He sighed, rubbing his temple briefly before his hand moved to gently grip your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes met his.

Your tipsy smile faltered slightly as the intensity in his gaze caught you off guard. Leaning in close, his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, his voice low and teasing, "I’ll have to teach you a lesson, eh?"

The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine, and your hazy mind struggled to keep up with the sudden shift in mood. His chuckle rumbled softly as he leaned back slightly to take in your expression, amused by the mixture of surprise and playfulness on your face.

"You think you can just get away with all that teasing?" he added, his tone a mix of affection and mock sternness. "You’re lucky I love you, or I might actually make you pay for it."

You giggled, swaying slightly as your hands instinctively rested on his chest. "Oh, come on," you slurred, grinning up at him. "You wouldn’t dare."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Try me," he said, his hand slipping from your chin to your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

The tension between you lingered for a moment before the sound of someone yelling from the other room broke the spell. "Oi! You two lovebirds better not be starting something again!" Daisuke’s voice echoed, drawing laughter from the rest of the group.

Jimmy sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. "Saved by the bell," he murmured, letting go of you but keeping his hand lightly on your hip.

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into him slightly. "You’ll just have to wait for your ‘lesson,’ huh?" you teased, earning a playful glare from him.

"Don’t push your luck," he muttered, though the fondness in his tone was impossible to miss.

---------

[the-far-bright-center]

I understand your perspective, and I agree that the post-RotJ EU doesn’t really succeed as a worthy continuation of the story (mainly because it was always trying to continue a story that was still itself only half-completed —see the discussion below re: the fact that the Prequels were what truly completed the Original Trilogy). Personally, I was never into the EU books set after RotJ for this very reason. No offense to those who enjoy the Thrawn series, but the whole Thrawn thing is my personal nemesis. Not in a 'villain you love to hate way', but in a 'I can't stand the entire concept and I've always thought he was totally out of place and felt more like a Star Trek character than a Star Wars villain' way. 😅

So, with the exception of the Original Trilogy novelisations, I've never had any interest in the OT-era or post-RotJ Expanded Universe material. The only EU I've had time for has been the novels, comics, etc that were released concurrently with the Prequels and were set during the Prequels/Clone Wars time period. There are some rare exceptions, but none of the above that you describe is my 'thing' and I've avoided most of it like the plague; therefore, I fully admit that a lot of discussion of the specific details of the EU is out of my wheelhouse.

I can only really offer my personal perspective here, and I understand that other people's experiences in the Star Wars fandom may differ. That being said, I am not of the opinion that the current fandom view of the Skywalker saga as ‘tragic’ story is to blame on the Expanded Universe. And even in previous times, I remain unconvinced that it had such a widespread negative impact on people’s views of the saga. I grew up watching the Original Trilogy in the era before the release of the Prequels, and no one I knew back then ever expressed the sentiment that 'oh, Star Wars is so sad' or 'Star Wars is such a tragic tale'. At most, if anyone mentioned the EU, it was simply to say 'oh that part was really dumb, I don't see that as canon', lol. Even people I knew who were big fans of the EU never expressed the view that it somehow overrode the heroism and overall hopeful and redemptive message of the Original Trilogy. Mainly because 1) the EU was not that well known outside of nerdy circles, and 2) even when it was known, it was simply not viewed as canon.

To address the first point: in the pre-Disney era, the Expanded Universe was hardly ubiquitous, it was still rather niche. People who were uber fans and read all of it might not relate to this, but there were plenty of die-hard, lifelong Star Wars fans (such as myself) who never engaged with that material. We still had all the merch, action figures, did cosplay, knew all the info we could about the films, we just stuck to the Original Trilogy material (prior to the release of the Prequels). I'm not saying the EU wasn't popular in its own way— it was. There were entire sections of bookstores devoted to it, and I distinctly remember having friends who were super into it. However, this was something only 'Star Wars nerds' were into, and even then only a particular subset of Star Wars nerds. Even at its height, the EU was not mainstream, nor was it widely known amongst general audiences, which is in direct contrast to the current Disney material, which is more widely available and more well-known for the simple fact that it's largely live-action stuff and available either in cinemas or via streaming.

Secondly, the Expanded Universe, regardless of how well-known it might have been, was never actually CANON on the same level as the PT x OT films. Again, that is in direct contrast with the current Disney material, which is currently claiming to be 100% canon. The EU existed as 'tiered canon', so that the Lucas SW films were the main canon at the highest level, then followed by the animated tv series, then the books, comics, etc. So even if the concepts and characters from the EU had entered into the mindset of certain fans, this was not viewed as 100% set-in-stone, unassailable canon. Especialy not the stuff that was released prior to the Prequels, so much of which was rather, uh, 'out there', more sci-fi than space opera, and also was often self-contradictory. And importantly, a lot of which ended up being joss'd BY the release of the Prequels.

As for the pre-canon (pre-Prequels era) Expanded Universe.... I will just say that, in my opinion, any seemingly perpetual Jedi vs. Sith war that is supposed to have happened prior to the six Lucas films doesn't negate the PT x OT saga having an uplifting outcome. In fact, the longevity of the conflict only makes the fact that Anakin returns to his True Self and fulfills the Chosen One prophecy all the more meaningful. He ends the millennia-long struggle and brings Balance to the Force.

Now, it's true that Lucas had his own ideas for a sequel at one stage, but logistical issues (and difficulty getting the original cast back at the time) prevented him from seriously pursuing this. So, starting in the early 1990s, he focused on creating the Prequels, with the intended purpose of answering many of the questions left lingering by OT (such as, how did Anakin fall to the Dark Side? Who was Luke and Leia's mother? etc), and to explore Anakin/Vader's backstory and cement his status as a tragic hero. And imo, in doing so, Lucas seems to have understood that, more than any sequel, this backstory was the truly compelling 'continuation' to the OT's storyline. Indeed, he has repeatedly stated that the Prequels completed the saga:

"The original idea for Star Wars was one movie about the tragedy of Darth Vader. But as the story grew, it ended up being three movies and the backstory was never explained. I decided it would be important to finish it off and do the backstory because things that I thought would be self-evident about the story, the audience didn't get. Over the 10 years after Return of the Jedi, I realized people misunderstood a lot—such as where Anakin came from. So it was a way of finishing the whole thing off." —George Lucas (from 'All films are personal: an oral history of The Phantom Menace')

He's also made it clear that the PT x OT saga is supposed to be viewed as one, single story (Episodes I through VI), with the resolution of said story being the uplifting happy ending of RotJ:

"You have got to remember that this is one movie, and it’s meant to be seen I through VI. So, I think when you watch the actual movie in order, the story will become very clear: that Anakin is the Chosen One. And even when Anakin turns into Darth Vader, he is still the Chosen One." —George Lucas

and finally, he's also stated that the saga is ultimately Anakin's story:

"It’s a certain story about Anakin Skywalker and once Anakin Skywalker dies, that’s...the end of the story."   —George Lucas 

My purpose in bringing up these quotes is simply to emphasise that the saga as created by Lucas can and does stand on its own as a single, completed story. And a story that is very clearly a tragedy in the first act, and a hero's journey in the second. Together the two form a 'divine comedy of redemption'. Something with tragic elements, but which ultimately transcends that tragedy.

There was a brief golden period in time (approximately from the late 2000s to the early 2010s) when people began to analyse the PT x OT saga on its own terms. And even began to appreciate it for what it was. See the fandom’s increased interest in the 'Ring Theory' concept, as well as the rise in popularity of the Clone Wars tv series at this time. There was also some academic level analysis of the PT x OT saga going on, perhaps most famously seen in art critic Camille Paglia's appreciation of the Mustafar duel and her perspective on RotS as ‘the greatest artistic masterpiece’ of our time.

This growing fandom appreciation and critical analysis of the saga as a single completed story was sadly cut short by the Disney-era.

Obviously, this is all just my own perspective. However, I feel quite strongly that the EU, whatever its issues, is not the source of the current fandom’s misunderstanding of the nature of the Skywalker Saga. The only thing that is single-handedly to blame for this is the Disney Sequel Trilogy, and specifically the very first film, The Force Awakens.

Why do I say this? Because the entire premise of TFA was that nothing that happened in the entire six-film saga mattered or had any lasting positive impact on the galaxy. It negated the entirety of Anakin's arc and erased the positive impact of Luke's hero's journey. And it was in the aftermath of that horrendous film and the subsequent two sequel films that I observed a distinct shift in the overall fandom attitude towards the Skywalker saga. I began to see people here on tumblr lamenting 'why is Star Wars so sad!' and other similar sentiments, whereas I had never before seen this. Even previously with the existence of the Prequels themselves, no one had claimed that all of Star Wars was now tragic. Anakin/Vader had been reframed into a tragic hero, it's true, but nothing about the Prequels had negated Luke's Hero's Journey. If anything, it had made it shine all the more brightly.

Likewise, whatever silly stuff was supposed to have occured in the Expanded Universe, being primarily relegated to books, comics, and games, it had never actually had the prominence or 'household recognition' that the current Disney material has had. Add to this the fact that the EU was never intended to be on the same 'tier' of canon as the PT x OT films, and thus never had the same level of destructive power that the live-action films and tv series series by Disney have. The problem with the Disney material being that the very first live-action entry into it, The Force Awakens, had a premise so destructive and disrespectful to the entire Lucas saga that said saga might as well have not even happened. Anakin's entire arc might as well have not even occurred, it has so little lasting positive impact in the Disney version of events.

Whatever the EU did or did not do with this same subject matter isn't the point, the point is that Disney put their destructiveness on the big-screen for mainstream audiences to see, and that's why it has permeated the fandom culture and mindset much more thoroughly than the EU material ever did.

Star Wars isn't a tragedy. Only the Prequels are. Disney (and most of tumblr it seems) may think all of Star Wars is supposed percieved in a sad or tragic manner, but it's not. Return of the Jedi is triumphant, redemptive, and uplifiting. It's the fairytale ending that bookends the greek tragedy. The combination of fall and then redemption of the human soul is the entire point.

Anakin is a tragic character, but the Skywalker saga itself NOT meant to be tragic, neither in its tone nor its actual outcome.

[presleyslilbaby]

~A Little Gift~

(70’s!Elvis X OC!)

(TW: Potential misspellings-)

(This is just a short little story I wanted to write for Christmas. I really should be resting, but I can’t rest until my brain is empty, lol-)

“Gianna,” Elvis called for his Girlfriend, grabbing her attention, though scaring her a little. “Y-Yes…?” She softly stuttered out, subconsciously pushing her glasses up, a nervous habit she’d recently developed. Sighing, Elvis sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to his side. “Angel, you’re hangin’ out alone.” He motioned around. “We got a whole Christmas party to tend to, Baby.” A guilty frown tugged at Gianna’s lips, wrapping her arms around herself instinctively. “I know…I just- You know I’m not good with people, El…” She mumbled. “A-And besides- I-I can’t really relate to any of the Guys…I’m not very fun to talk to…” “Oh, sure you are,” He patted her on the head, trying to make her feel better. “You’re heaps o’ fun to talk to. Why do ya’ think I asked you out, hm? ‘Cause you’re sweet, adorable, and you’re real silly. Don’t you let them thoughts get to ya’.”

Gianna hummed softly, leaning into Elvis’s plush body, turning more toward him to snuggle closer. “I just don’t want to embarrass myself…And besides, I don’t want to hear Joanne complaining about how I need to talk more…” Elvis frowned at that, pulling his aviators off before grabbing her jaw gently to make her look up at him. “Do not let your Sister dictate your life. If you ain’t ready to socialise jus’ yet, then you ain’t ready. I know how hard it is for you.” She smiled. “Thank you…I just feel guilty because you want to go mingle and stuff, and here I am…Keeping you here…” He shook his head, running his hand through her brown hair. “You ain’t keepin’ me here. I know I can go back out if I wanted. But I’d much rather prefer takin’ the time to make sure my best Girl’s doin’ all right.” Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss against her nose. “Because I care ‘bout you, Honey. You’re my heart, my world. I’d do anythin’ to make you feel better.” At his heartfelt confession, Gianna’s lower lip began to tremble with emotion, tears starting to gather in her eyes. She sharply inhaled, fanning her face as she made a silly sound. “Don’t say things like that! You’ll make me cry!” She partially joked, blinking rapidly. Elvis let out a laugh, the sound echoing in her ears. “Well excuse me, li’l Lady! I was just’ tryin’ to tell you that I cared!” He grinned.

“Oh-“ Suddenly standing up, Elvis quickly excused himself from moment before returning with a small, wrapped gift. “For you, Angel.” He spoke with such softness, his voice in its own feeling like a warm blanket as it reached her ears. Taking the gift from his hands, Gianna began to carefully unwrap her present, having kept the habit of not ripping the paper like a barbarian from when she was a child to save for next Christmas. Opening the small velvety box, a quiet gasp escaped her lips, and tears sprang to her eyes yet again. It was a beautiful Golden band adorned with real diamonds on top, the size and shine of the ring reflecting the expenses of the gift. “Oh, Elvis…” She gasped. “This is so gorgeous…H-How much did you spend on this…???” As much as she loved the present, she couldn’t help but worry over the price.

Elvis chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t you worry ‘bout the price, Gigi. It’s just a li’l gift I got for my Baby.” “A little gift? Elvis, this is more than just a little gift…It’s- Fuck, it’s so amazing…” Gianna watched on as he took her hand in his, then after having taken the ring out of its box, he slowly and reverently slid it on her finger. “Not as amazing as the beautiful Girl wearin’ it.” He said, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing his lips to the back of it like a Gentleman. “…I love you so much…” She whispered as a tear slipped past her eye. He gently brushed it away with his thumb. “I love you too, Cookie.” He said.

“Merry Christmas, Gianna.”

Merry Christmas…”

[possibilistfanfiction]

For the caitvi: dog meet cute

[if u have been here a minute u know i try to give every character a border collie bc they're my passion lol HOWEVER. vi + a big rescue pitty is an actual dream come true. i just rly love dogs & force free handling & nurturing of dogs. so here u go, they are my babies]

//

vi is practically vibrating next to you in excitement, which is endearing but a little unsettling as she drives. she'd insisted you take her bronco, because she's convinced the car will immediately be scratched and dirty inside — which isn't even true, and also she's put more work into her car than you ever will any of yours. still, you'd acquiesced without too much arguing — more for fun than anything else — and then gone through the actual items on the checklist the rescue had recommended. you spent the past day making sure there were no holes in the fence and that the gate properly latched; you'd gotten bowls and the food recommended by the vet you'd found — fear free certified, vi had said after her research, proudly showing you the results of a very nice vet clinic near your new house — and a few toys and balls, a snuffle mat, and a cute little toy you can fill with peanut butter or yogurt for him to lick. you'd gotten a ton of training treats and bully sticks, marrow bones and duck feet; you pick out two comfortable beds to put in the living room and your bedroom; vi had liked a pink harness, collar, and 6' lead, which had made you laugh and then kiss her right in the middle of the pet store; you order a long lead to go with it later that night.

so, by all accounts and purposes, you are very ready.

still, vi is acting more nervous than she had when she'd taken her lieutenant's exam a few months ago, more nervous than when you were waiting to hear back about jinx's acceptance to her graduate program, more nervous than the first night you'd really moved into your house and fell asleep on the couch, sated and spent, in front of the fireplace. you'd loved this house for many reasons, but one of the big ones was its beautiful yard: vi has been looking at rescue dogs on her phone for the entire time you've known her.

'i can't believe it's really happening,' she says, again, as she takes the turn onto the street the rescue is located on.

'we're going to have so much fun, and give him such a good home.'

she breathes a sigh out and takes her hand off the gear shift to squeeze yours. you'd brought it up a few weeks ago, maybe looking into a dog, since you had the space, and you lived together now, and you owned the house, rather than having pet restrictions in an apartment. there had been a million excuses she'd offered, all of them poor and all of them because she was just nervous. you know how well you can manage things, how that's a way you're good at showing your love, and you know how gentle and nurturing v's nature is when given the chance.

she parks and you kiss her gently. 'hey, any dog would be lucky to be raised by rich lesbians with no kids.'

it gets her to laugh, finally, her nerves dissipating. 'speak for yourself. i'm not rich.'

you roll your eyes — it's not a secret that you want to get married one day, that you like making sure that vi — and her family — has everything they need, especially since you make enough money through your own work to not need any of your trust fund. 'rich in love.'

she groans but takes your hand anyway, laces your fingers together before you open the door.

the rescue coordinator and trainer meet you in the lobby, smiling, and compliment vi on her treat bag and the collar, harness, and leash set you'd brought. you had applied for the dog the week before, having seen his picture for one second and then showing it to vi, and you'd watched a soft smile grow on her face. you'd gone through a video call interview, and now all that's left is an in-person meet-up to see if a trial adoption period feels good for both of you and the dog.

he's already alone in the little play yard with one of the other volunteers, and you hear vi sniffle next to you, and then laugh, when you look her way, before getting down on her knees.

'hi, atlas,' she says, as you crouch down too, and it doesn't take even a second before the dog — muscular and goofy, with a blocky head, mostly black fur with a few white spots — bounds over to both of you and bowls vi over with how excited he is.

you laugh, and you get out your phone to take a few pictures; vi kisses his head and you rub behind his ears. you understand that it's important, and good, that the rescue does a trial adoption period, but his eyes are a grey-blue and he has a scar above one of them, and after vi throws the ball and you play tug with him a little, he just lies down half in her lap while she scratches his offered tummy — you know that there's no way this dog is ever going back.

'it's a good thing you're, uh, you know... fit,' the trainer says, a little flustered at the obvious muscles and veins of vi's arms in one of her t-shirts, you think, which, okay, you do understand. 'we're working on his leash skills, still, and he's getting so much better! but he's a strong guy.'

you'd, of course, read atlas' bio: he was rescued off the side of the road, alone, starving and sick, and he's spent almost the last two years at the rescue, cared for, of course, but overstimulated. he's loved his field trips, and he's friendly to kids, other dogs, even cats. he's active, park plays and hikes, but he really just wants to cuddle and sleep. mostly, he's been overlooked because he's a strong pit bull with a big bark. vi had immediately wanted him, even if she hadn't quite said so: you'd understood.

the trainer talks you through helping him feel safe as you put his new harness on, but he really doesn't seem to care at all when you offer him some chicken as a reward after. he licks your face and, admittedly, you are kind of in love already. the trainer plays with him while you and vi go inside and fill out the final paperwork, and he seems more subdued when you come back. but, 'you're so smart, huh?' vi says to him, the second he starts getting excited when she takes his leash and walks toward the exit. he starts whining and pulling, but when you get through the door, your hand in vi's, atlas turns around and jumps on both of you a few times. it doesn't bother you, and it makes vi cry, so you don't even try to coax him away with treats: you just let him feel freedom, safe and sound, for the first time.

//

atlas rides calmly in the car on the way home, watching everything out the window in his little dog car hammock, easily tolerating when you'd secured him with the seat belt extension that attached to his harness. jinx, unsurprisingly, has already come over when you get home, and she laughs and falls back on the ground, letting him lick all over her face, when he rams into her in hello. she slips a custom, thank you very much bandana — a lot of neon pink — onto him and kisses his forehead, but she has class, she pouts, so she promises to be over again tomorrow to play with him.

you and vi show atlas around the house, direct him to some toys; vi gives him a few chew options to see which one he'll pick — a beef marrow bone, no surprised there — and then he settles on the bed in the living room and works on his bone for an hour, both of you just smiling and watching from the couch, before he finishes and lumbers over to you, hopping up and burrowing in between you with a sigh.

vi starts to cry again, which makes you start to cry, and you both just sit there, laughing too, while you pet him.

'you have to know that this is, like, you in dog form, right?' you ask eventually.

'a brilliant and sensitive heart behind a strong, rugged exterior? of course.'

she's using humor to deflect — you both know at this point — but you let her get away with it this time.

//

atlas settles in easily, like he was always meant to be yours, and maybe he was. one morning, when vi is on shift, you take him on his long line to your favorite trail just outside the city and just let him walk and sniff for an hour or so, and then sit with you on the patio of your favorite cafe while you have a coffee. he sleeps and says hello when people ask, and, while he still gets so excited he often knocks jinx and vi over still when they get home, he's so gentle greeting strangers that you have to fight back tears. when you take him to the crag a month in, he makes friends with every person there and then gnaws on a bully stick before sleeping the afternoon away in a patch of sun.

for years, since you'd met vi, she'd had a hard time sleeping: you knew why, and you understood it. you'd tried all kinds of things to help with her insomnia and nightmares: therapy, and medication, and different techniques to ground and calm. it's always been a losing battle, though, things getting worse after long, hard shifts where calls had gone bad; oftentimes you'd get home from a full day at work and she hadn't slept at all since she got home from a 24 hour shift that morning: it hasn't been uncommon for her to go thirty hours without any good sleep for as long as you'd known her.

today, you'd been expecting the same thing: dark circles beneath her eyes, exhausted muscles that still can't rest, a painstakingly cooked dinner she'd prepared to, somehow, in her mind, make up for all of it. you'd talked to her on her drive home this morning, her short responses about the call she'd gone on dealing with an apartment fire in her childhood neighborhood last night telling you more than a robust description ever could.

when you walk in, though, the living room is dark, the fireplace mostly embers. it's cold outside, windy and probably going to snow tonight, so usually she would stoke it for you before you get home. there's no smell of dinner, and you don't hear atlas' paws scrambling to come jump on you in hello. for a split second, you're kind of terrified, before you notice the sound of snoring, and then your eyes find them: atlas is almost completely on top of vi on the couch, one of her hands still on his shoulders and the other stretched behind her head. they're both breathing deeply, soft snuffles and sighs, and you almost sink to your knees right then and there. you have your own demons, your own discussions in therapy and fights with your mom and aches in the middle of the night, but vi spent years of her life in the dark, alone, kept from any love or care, being treated like a dangerous animal. you want to marry her; you want jinx to annoy the hell out of you for years; you want a life with her, forever.

so you wipe your tears and put your coat away quietly, put your bag away and set your computer to charge in the office. you'd tentatively made plans to climb with vi after you'd gotten off work, mostly because it helps regulate her nervous system, even if you're both exhausted. but instead, you ease yourself gently onto the coffee table across from the couch and touch her face, then scratch behind atlas' soft ears.

'hello, my darlings.'

vi startles awake, disoriented, but then takes stock of atlas — who seems excited you're home, from the happy thump of his tail, but unwilling to move, far too warm and comfortable — and her eyes meet yours, a little smile sneaking its way onto her face. 'hey, cupcake.'

'it's nearly six.'

'oh. wow.'

'yeah?'

'i've been asleep for, like, five hours, i guess.'

you both almost burst into tears, but you kiss her forehead instead and say, 'shall we order in? movie night? it looks like mr. atlas here doesn't want to give up his prime spot.'

vi rubs her thumb along your cheek, always adoring, always gentle. 'ramen?'

'you drive a hard bargain.'

you don't talk about it further then: you go change into a pair of shorts and one of vi's sweaters, and atlas pouts but makes room for you on the couch too, eventually resting his head in your lap, and you put in your typical ramen order on your phone before vi picks a movie you'd both wanted to watch and had missed in theaters. she gets up, eventually, to open a bottle of wine for you and grab a beer for herself, and to put a new log on and then stoke the fire, before curling back up into your side.

'you know, i've thought about his name.'

'yeah?'

'jinx has come up with, like, seven thousand nicknames, some of which he responds to because she feeds him cheese all the time.'

vi rolls her eyes, but you laugh.

'but, you know. the weight of the world, and all that.'

'like i said, you in dog form.'

vi shakes her head but it becomes common occurrence, as the weeks and months and years go on, to come home to her after a shift, held down by altas, happily resting with her: a peace that's hard-found and even harder-earned, a companion for it all.

[dearly-somber]

LET ME IN (20 Cube) | p.sh

-> pairing. frat boy!sunghoon x fem reader

-> genre. fwb (friends-with-benefits)

-> rating. 13+

-> w/c. 1052

-> warnings. Suggestive ending (and overall dialogue), Sunghoon is kind of insufferable lol

-> a/n. First ENHYPEN fic go !!! (This is old, it gets better </3)

-> collection. songfic

-> started. ???

-> fin. Jan. 12th, 2021 @ 21:49

-> edited. Thurs., Oct. 25th, 2022 @ 22:06

You walked into the on-campus café, wearing a collared long sleeveed shirt with stripes on the arms, the torso up until your upper arm being fully black with the words "sad, lonely & bad at math" printed on the front. You were also wearing some chains and a necklace with a cross that fell just above the print on the shirt. You were wearing a high waisted, ripped jean-short with a belt that had a chain attached, your shirt tucked in, with a pair of black combat boots and a messy bun holding your hair out of your eyes.

You were known for your rather grunge/ goth-like outfits, and a lot of people admired you for being able to pull it off quite well.

You went over to the cashier, who you had formed a homie-bond with after seeing him so many times. "Hey, Y/N. Usual?"

"That's right!" You said with an enthusiastic smile, tapping your fingers against the counter while waiting for your drink. You checked the time on your phone and sighed as you turned to look at the entrance. He's going to make me wait again, huh?

You rolled your eyes distastefully before turning back to the cashier with a smile as he handed you your drink. "Thanks, Niki!"

"No problem!" You waved at him before sitting down, deciding to check the notes you had made on your phone while waiting for one of the most popular guys on campus who you just so happened to have an... Interesting relationship with.

"Y/N! You're here!" A familiar voice rang through your ears and you turned to glare at him, annoyed.

"Sunghoon. What have I said about making me wait? Especially after messaging me to meet up."

The boy in question merely smirked, always having enjoyed pressing your buttons. He looked good, as always, with his nicely styled brown hair and black and beige silk shirt, wearing his necklace with the black jewel embedded in the middle, the cold metal resting just underneath his neck. Sunghoon walked over, sitting across from you and checking you out as you sipped lazily at your drink.

"You look good in this outfit." He said approvingly, nodding at you as he drew his eyes away from your outfit to meet your eyes. You rolled your eyes dramatically, leaning against the palm of your hand.

"What do you want?"

"What? No 'Yeah, Sunghoon! You look good too!'?" He asked, pouting and fluttering his eyelids as a stupid tactic to make you feel bad.

"You always look good, you self-absorbed piece of shit. There's no point." Sunghoon smirked, leaning forward and raising his eyebrows.

"Did you just say I look good?"

"You missed the 'self-absorbed' and 'piece of shit' part, but yeah. Now please tell me what the hell do you want? I don't want to be seen talking to you for so long."

"Aww, why not?"

"Park Sunghoon." You said warningly, glaring daggers into the depths of his soul. He laughed mutedly, flashing you a toothy grin before straightening up slightly and leaning his head back to show off his neck.

"I wanted to invite you to a party I'm throwing at my place to welcome our newest member."

"You guys accepted another member?"

"Yep. His name's Ni-ki. He's here right now, actually." With a shocked expression you turned around and looked back at Ni-ki, smiling at him half-heartedly. This innocent soul would have to live with some of the biggest dicks you'd ever met. Of course, Sunghoon was one of them, the other most well known one was Lee Heeseung, the oldest frat member at this point.

"He's a good kid. You better let him stay that way." You said seriously, pointing an accusatory finger at Sunghoon. He pouted, leaning against both of his hands with a glint in his eye.

"You've seen him around a few times and you're already protective, yet I'm the one you've scre—"

"Shut up, Sunghoon." You hissed, your hand having shot out to cover his mouth. He smirked into your hand, kissing your palm and making you pull away a bit flushed.

"Are you coming or not?" He asked with that stupid grin of his, already knowing your answer.

"Yeah, I'll be there. But only for Ni-ki. Plus, I haven't seen Jungwon or Jake in a while." Sunghoon scrunched his nose in what you assumed was distaste before standing up before you slid out of your chair. You cleared your throat, squinting at him slightly. "What happened last time won't happen again." You said sternly, however Sunghoon was completely unfazed, leaning over and winking over his shoulder.

"We'll see about that, love!" You groaned at the nickname, briefly talking to Ni-ki and heading out to plan your outfit.

It was the day of the party and you arrived somewhere in the middle of the celebration, wearing jeans and a loose fitting AC/DC t-shirt.

It seemed like there was still a lot of people left, but it was open enough to easily find Ni-ki and some of his friends by the pool table. You went over to congratulate Ni-ki first, saying hello to Jake and Jungwon, who you actually knew the most outside of the Sunghoon situation.

"Come chat with me..." Think of the devil and he shall appear, you thought as Sunghoon whispered into your ear, his breath fanning your neck and sending a chill down your spine. He pulled you into a corner of the living room, leaning against the wall and holding you where you were by your waist. He smirked at you, raising a brow suggestively.

"You're really persistent, you know that?" You told him as you instantly regretted what you were about to do.

"Well, persistence often pays off..." He grinned as you rolled your eyes before pulling him closer by his nape, kissing him roughly. He groaned into the kiss as you moved closer and tugged at his hair, eventually making him lift you up by your legs and taking you upstairs.

When you woke up the next morning you found yourself wearing a shirt that wasn't yours and was 2 or 3 sizes to big, turning around to look at a smiling Sunghoon.

"What was it that you told me yesterday?"

"Oh, fuck off—" You muttered as you kissed him again.

[magefelixir]

JPC DARRY THOUGHTS AND ANALYSIS

negative out of the way first: wasn’t really grown into the role at first and it felt kind of like he was doing a kermit impression at the beginning of runs in the family 

was absolutely FANTASTIC the rest of the way through. like he was AMAZING.

you could absolutely see him as the young person he is. he played him very mad at the world. you could so see that this is a very young man in a lot of grief facing a lot of hardships

and in this i mean that in a lot of the scenes he wasn’t ANGRY. he played it very “im at the end of my rope” frustrated, anger bubbling inside of him until he snapped. 

and when he snapped. let me just say he SNAPPPED. 

SPECIFIC SCENES: 

GREASE GOT A HOLD: 

everyone was joshing darry around a LOT. ppl were like going aside to fuck around with him a lot

so at some point dally got in his face, blew a bit of smoke and was like “hell yeah” 

soda was going aside a lot, offering cigarettes m, dapping him up etc

RUNS IN THE FAMILY: 

as i said, he wasn’t super grown into the role at the beginning so it felt a bit kermity but he got over that? OUGH!

his voice felt jazzier and deeper than brents 

THE. OPT. DOWN. ON. “can’t get a break my BAAAACK all day” 

you shouldve been there my godddddd

RUNS IN THE FAMILY REPRISE:

again, he didn’t play it super angry at first

it felt very “you fucked around and now you found out” 

so very frustrated and not calm but “im trying to appear calm so i dont snap” 

of course, until he did

soda was really pushing him back and he was almost hitting soda to get to pont

you could hear like a smack on the arm while he was attempting to get to pony

and he was shoving his hands in ponys face

(this was all on “SEE THESE HANDS??? HOW TORN UP THEY ARE??) 

when he got mad he got MAD it was crazy good

THROWING IN THE TOWEL:

so, i got rush tickets and like the last time i saw it (didn’t post much abt it) i got partial view

so both times i couldn’t rlly see jack shit during titt

but you could just HEAR how upset almost at himself darry was

he felt very sorry for himself

but also like it was him looking rlly wistful on the car

you could absolutely see how soda was the only one who could calm him down lol

DARRY/DALLY ARGUMENT: 

very similar to ritfr in that he didn’t start screaming till the end

ugh they ate it up

misc:

he messed uo in the rumble, where he really quietly said “yeah i still got-“ before paul said “i remember it looked pretty good on you!”

his and jasons voices blended AMAZINGLY i need them to uh. cover the whole play. they sounded ao so so so so fucking good if h igh djdnsnnsbdnsnammf

i hope this is what yall wanted! if anyone has anymore questions, feel free to send asks!!

im gonna sleep now tho so ill try to get to it in the morning

[buglass]

Lonely Man - A Christmas Oneshot

Summary: A passive and respectful fan encounters a lone Elvis Presley on a beach in the Bahamas while both are on Christmas vacation in 1969. Jackie debates whether or not to bother Elvis, but feels drawn to keep him company.

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Jackie!Black!OC

Chapters: 1/1

WC: 907

Warnings: Insinuation of depression, general fluff and kindness, lack of holiday cheer

A/N: Not a big fan of the holidays myself since I’m always away from family since I was in the military. Still feeling it a little bit this year so this is how I’m coping lol thanks for reading!

Inspired by this and a few other photos from E’s time in the Bahamas October 1969.

December 25th, 1969

❆   ❆   ❆

When she spotted him, she didn’t think it was actually Elvis Presley. The black dress shirt he wore was a stark contrast to his skin and white trousers. Keeping up with the whereabouts of celebrities wasn’t her forte and this man, only seeing him from his side profile, looked slightly less like the spruced up version the world had come to know. Don’t get her wrong--she still thought the man seated in the sand was handsome but a lot paler than she would have expected for a Bahamian vacation in the sun. 

Elvis hunched forward with his feet buried in the sand, his sleeved arms wrapped around his pant-covered legs as he looked out to the water. Jackie was between a rock and a hard place on the mostly empty beach. When a woman and her family came from the opposite direction, they didn’t waste time to make their approach to Elvis. It wasn’t their fault they stumbled upon him either. Because they too were on vacation, they actually had a camera on hand to commemorate the once in a lifetime event. 

Jackie slowed down, busying herself with the wispy skirt blowing in the wind and the straps of the shoes she held. She faced the water as she took the hair tie from her wrist and tied her hair back into a ponytail. There were a total of three snaps she could hear from the camera, Elvis standing there for each picture both posed and candid. Elvis hunched over, waving to the blonde little girl who was probably only about four years-old. As the fans left, he stood up straight and looked around as if he were expecting a floodgate of fans to follow. 

They were alone again.

Jackie started down the beach again, veering toward where the water could wash over her feet. When she glanced up again, Elvis was looking at her. His hands were at his back, sliding lower into what she assumed was his back pockets. She became highly aware that he was overly dressed for the beach while she wore a bikini, her lower half shrouded by the long, breathable skirt that in the right light showed some leg. Elvis moved in her path and her heart rate picked up knowing that her only option was to walk around the singer. 

Her eyes dipped toward his chest and the hair there, coming back up the closer she got to him. When the two of them were face to face, Elvis’s mouth curled into a smirk. 

“What do I owe the pleasure of your attention, Mr. Presley?” Jackie spoke casually as if they were old friends. 

“I was gettin’ ready to ask you the same. I saw you down the beach before all of that.” Elvis admitted, dropping his arms to his sides.

“I think you’re the one stopping me for my attention now,” she laughed, stepping around the man for the sake of making him follow. “I will leave you to it.”

“Hey, wait-wait a minute,” Elvis said, turning after her to walk at her side. “Can’t you stay for a while?”

“I was just making sure you didn’t feel obligated to have company, Mr. Presley--”

“Elvis, just Elvis.” He put up his hands.

“Alright, Elvis. But, as I was saying, I don’t want you to feel…bombarded.” Jackie said. She slowed up to face him, admiring how he towered over her and his general warmth. Fuck, he was good looking, she thought.

“It’s never any bother, but I could use the company. If you don’t mind?” Elvis gestured toward the sand. 

Jackie squinted up at him, skeptical of what someone of his caliber would want with her. She swept her skirt as she lowered into the sand, dropping her sandals at her side. Elvis followed suit only after she was seated and he sighed as he looked out toward the water again. 

“What’s your name?” Elvis asked.

“Jacqueline, but I prefer Jackie.” She explained softly.

“Well, Jackie, what’s more fittin’ of the Christmas Spirit than spendin’ time with a stranger?” Elvis chuckled.

“I… I think some would say the opposite, but ‘tis the season.” Jackie laughed. She was pleased by his easiness, the way he was turning a moment that clearly bothered him into a positive. She looked at him square in his face and furrowed her brows after a second. “So…why are you alone out here on Christmas?”

“Sometimes it’s good to learn to live with yourself, honey,” was all he said at first. “... But I s’pose I’m not very good at it after all.”

Jackie gave him a sidelong look for a second longer before slowly reaching for the exposed part of his arm. She understood the dreariness of the holidays tended to outweigh the excitement of gift-giving and cheeriness. When she looked at him, she saw a man that was far, far away. Elvis finally looked at her and she caught the sadness in his eyes. She would have thought someone as successful as him was immune to feeling down. But when she squeezed his wrist and his arm moved so they were holding hands, Jackie was reminded of just how human the superstar was.

“You’ll be okay, sweetheart. This is just a bad day, not a bad life.” She promised gently.

“Thank you, Jackie. Merry Christmas.” He gave her a small smile.

“Merry Christmas, Elvis,” she said, leaning over to press a reassuring kiss to his cheek.