#they need their jobs and they deserve to be treated better !! i never truly needed this job bc i live at home

[florida3exclamationpoints]

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[blackknight-kai]

Let me start saying I love your blog, reblogs and headcanons, truly, all of the above🩷🩷

If you’re comfortable with the question, do you have any for the Destined One with a female virgin reader?

So I wanna say thank you 🫶🫶🫶🫶 I haven’t quite shared my own head canons much but I don’t have any issue sharing them 🫶 others do a much better job of it so I’ve left it to them. But! Your ask comes at a wonderful time as I needed a break from writing a fic 💀 (kill me im up to 20k)

Let’s get after it! Destined One & a female virgin head canons? I’ll give it a shot! There will be a nsfw section below sorry if that’s not your thing. I wasn’t super explicit on body parts etc but let me know if you guys want a Sun Wukong one? I’d try.

If you’re NOT in a relationship yet and he finds out? (Be it you told him outright or it comes out in passing conversation)

He’d would remain expressionless and quiet as usual. Not wanting to make a big deal out of it and remain respectful

But if you look closely you can see him swallowing thickly at the new information

Will NOT treat you differently

He has a LOT of feelings for you and knowing you haven’t shared yourself with someone else, while not a huge deal he’s never really cared one way or another, it’s something he finds himself thinking about often.

It makes him a little hot under the collar sometimes when he looks at you and remembers what you’d said.

NSFW - on the very rare occasions that he takes some time to himself or you’re not around, in the quiet he puts his goal to the side for just a moment and allows himself to think about his wishes and whims. Specially how he’d touch you and make it good for you because you deserve to be treated like you’re special and HE wants to be the one to do it.

If you’re in a relationship and it either came up naturally or during a more…heated moment.

Would absolutely freeze. Like body full on screenshot kinda freeze - only his tail would flick and twitch as he processes

Because honestly it hadn’t occurred to him before but it is NOW. He’s thought of you and making love with you but first or not first hadn’t been a topic of thought

He’d probably internally get flustered and his heart would race ridiculously but on the outside his expression would appear stoic or mildly surprised

Wouldn’t try to pressure you or make a big deal out of it, as though it doesn’t matter one way or another besides making extra sure you’re comfortable

His tail would eventually give him away though as it would be swishing behind him happy and interested as the information settles in his brain

Dude would be first and foremost HONORED If you shared that news with him and were giving him your first

Probably a first for him too ngl. I see him as someone who was so focused on his path that warming another’s bed wasn’t something he was willing to spare time on.

If it’s not a first for him too then it’s not something he’s done often and isn’t an expert

Would definitely thank you for trusting him with sweet reassuring kisses (if they are a little heated don’t blame him too much)

He is respectful! As I said no pressure. No rush. But would the information please him? Yes.

Definitely adds fire to his belly because HE will be your first

Sends a note of possession through him not because he’d “own” you but because regardless of being a first or not you’d be his and he yours.

NSFW:

Regardless of if you’re shy or ready to get the show on the road he’d be so gentle and would be careful, really careful.

Probably a bit unsure and might move a little too fast accidentally in his own lust but would immediately sooth you as soon as he realizes

Looks to your expressions and sounds to make sure you’re feeling good and safe

He wants to treat you WELL views it as HIS duty to make sure you’re happy

It’s a lot of pressure but he’d do his best and set his mind to it being nothing but perfect for you

I imagine at first his hands would be so feather light letting you get used to him and his touch as he undresses you piece by piece- he’d watch his claws unless he finds out you enjoy them grazing across your skin

He’d brush his lips across every piece of new skin revealed to his eyes unable to help himself

Finds out he really loves your chest, both feeling you & tasting you. as well as napping on you later

But over time as the act went on he’d be more confident, still tender but less unsure

He’d be enamored every time he got you to sigh or make a pleased sound

It’s his goal to hears those often

When he discovers how turned on he’s made you it would send waves of pride crashing over him, he had done THAT

Overall though he’d take his time

He probably won’t speak much if at all, but he’d make sure you’re ready every step of the way. If he does speak it’s not more than a few words here or there, low and only for you to hear as he nips your ear

Multiple check ins

He’s a giver, and while he isn’t practiced whatsoever he’d use his mouth and fingers to bring you pleasure, finding out exactly how you like it by listening to the way you moan or the way your body shivers and trembles with specific movements

He 100% will become VERY VERY good with his hands and mouth

His tail is sneaky, he’d use it as a way to hold on to your leg (holding you open while one of his hands is occupied) or would brush the the furry appendage across your skin just to see goosebumps rise in its wake

When you’re finally connected, after time spent letting you get used to him (and him you because let’s be real he’d be overwhelmed by the feel of tightly wrapped around him too) he’d roll his hips gently

He would make sounds, sighs and groans in your ear.

He’d love it if you cling on to him and tell him he’s doing something good

Full on shudders if you scratch his back or dig your nails into him - he loves it and he might accidentally thrust too hard when you do it

Wants to hear you 👏👏

Would keep control for as long as he could but would listen to your requests almost instantly if you asked him to move faster

Would love it if you moved his hand exactly where you wanted him to touch you

Would suck marks on your skin - thighs and neck, wherever he absentmindedly ran his lips. Would be shy about it later but would touch them possessively or when you’re dressed his eyes would stray to where his marks are on your skin.

Afterwards he’d silently but tenderly wipe you down and then pull you into his arms

Would nuzzle his face against you and breathe your scent as you both relax and come down from your high

Would massage any soreness you have that he could and feel pride at wearing you out, although his face wouldn’t show it

His tail would be like a vice around your thigh all night and trying to get out of his hold in the morning is a chore

He’d 100% take care of you especially for a first time is basically what I’m saying. After, he may be a bit rougher with his movements or may be impatient at times especially after a tough fight and adrenaline is still kicking but will always treat you tenderly as you guys build confidence together.

[lesbianmarrow]

augh. rewatched btvs 5x22 scene where spike & buffy go to buffy's house to get weapons before the big showdown. them having to retrieve weapons is such an amusingly flimsy excuse to have them go to her house so we can have the scene where she invites him in + he promises to protect dawn + "i know you'll never love me" speech. i love a paper-thin excuse to put 2 characters in a room together. especially when those characters are buffy and spike!!!!!!!!!!!!

it really is so striking the way spike refrains from asking buffy to let him in even though he would be perfectly justified in doing so as it's obvious that buffy has forgotten he's not allowed in. i think part of it is that he wants to make it clear that he will respect the boundaries she has set with him. but i also think part of it is that he doesn't wanna feel the pain of being rejected again, because that fucking hurt. if he doesn't ask then he doesn't have to hear her say no again. it shows how head over heels he is for her and how much he has changed since the beginning of the season, when he was challenging her boundaries so much.

spike's expression when he's walking thru the doorway......it's so endearing and some really great acting from james marsters. first surprise and disbelief, then glee which spike is trying very hard to restrain because these are grave times. and yet he can't help feeling so joyous that buffy trusts him. he glances as the doorway like he's thinking "ah yes what a nice house" which makes me laugh because it's so stupid but also sweet. i think it's him trying to play it cool and doing a not so good job of it. there's such a lightness to him - it reminds me of the feeling when you think you did something to upset your friend a few days ago and you're anxious that they've been angry with you all this time and you finally gain the courage to ask them about you and it turns out they were never angry or upset at all. the giddy relief you feel.

and then there's that little moment of tension where they're standing so close together and you think something might happen but then spike breaks off and goes to the weapons chest and starts rambling about what they should take. it's so notable that it's him who gets nervous and moves away. so different from the way he behaved with her in fool for love, getting up in her space and trying to make her admit she had feelings for him. he's accepted that she'll never love him back, and moments like this where it feels like maybe there could be something between them are too painful, so he disrupts the moment. moves away.

jumping to the end of the scene - i love that buffy is on the stairs when spike does his little speech. she's physically above him. "you're beneath me." not only that, she's ascending, just as she ascends at the end of the episode, accessing a level of heroism that spike will never be able to meet. rewatching this part, spike's expression really surprised me. when he says "i know you'll never love me," he doesn't look at all bitter or resentful. his face is open, understanding, compassionate, and thankful. because that's what this speech is - he's thanking her for treating him better than he deserves. he's so grateful for the respect and trust she has given him. it has been truly transformative, as we've seen. only he doesn't get to the actual thanking part, because he cuts himself off, saying he'll wait for her down here. i think he cuts himself off because he realizes that this isn't what buffy needs to hear right now. she's got an enormous battle to prepare for, and a sister to save, and spike's feelings simply aren't important. so he stops mid-sentence for her sake. i think we're meant to understand that the only reason he started to say this at all is that he really thinks he might die tonight and it could be his last chance to let her know what it has meant to him to be treated like a person capable of doing good.

i've focused on what's going thru spike's head in this post bc i think buffy is a lot harder to read here. which is interesting bc sarah michelle gellar as buffy is so expressive that usually you can always tell exactly what buffy is thinking. but when she's with spike in these episodes toward the end of season 5 it's difficult to tell how she regards him. i think a lot of the time even she doesn't really understand how she feels about him. their relationship is so paradoxical. she relies on him but she reviles him. she wants him around but she finds him intolerable. i might rewatch the scene again and make another post about what might be going thru buffy's head, but for now i'll leave it at saying that i kind of love how spike's feelings for buffy are crystal clear to us and buffy's feelings for spike are much murkier. spike started out as this cool mysterious antagonist, whereas buffy has always been the protagonist and we're constantly seeing things from her point of view and being made to understand how she feels. so it's kind of fun to see that flipped a little bit. and it also rings really true for me how buffy in this moment is like, i have 5 billion things to be worrying about right now, i cannot even begin to process whatever feelings i may or may not have regarding spike. and with all of that said........there really is a softness to the way she treats him in this scene. and it's nice.

anyway. these two ✌️ gonna go jump off a tall tall tower

[lichenes]

I heard you were begging for Silco asks and I will take literally anything.

Jealous Silco or Jealous Reader (bonus points if Silco doesn't notice that someone is hitting on him)

I also feel like Silco would be an amazing dance partner/classical waltz style or some intimate partner dance but would only ever do it in private.

Silco with a reader who is maternal with Jinx ❤️

Smut or fluff, whatever you feel like writing I just want to treat that man right 👍

To all the anons that requested Silco i will be getting on that soon!! Now I present to you: Silco looking for a mum for Jinx, any takers?

This gif has such a fucking GRIP on me it's driving me insane. How can pixels be SO F I N E. Anyway per your request anon this is Silco x reader x (kinda) platonic!Jinx :D!! SILCO DESERVES SO MUCH LOVEEEE. I don't care if he commited like... actual war crimes, what does AIR mean to my LUNGS. CW: brief cursing!! not much besides that, pretty tame, kinda ooc.... sorri... wc: 1261 .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

The Zaunite air was filled with an unrelenting heaviness. Each day, despite Silcos best efforts, the food was getting scarcer and people were more and more scared. It wasn’t ever too much. He could handle it no doubt. Right?

Jinx was sitting on his desk and talking his ear off.

She was enjoying her time with him while Silco was quietly taking care of some documents. Spending time together with Jinx was one of the few things he enjoyed in life. Sure, his unique appearance made many women drawn to him and most people in Zaun felt nothing but respect for the man but he never developed anything meaningful, anything… tangible. Aside from Jinx he had no one. 

The stream of words being let out of Jinx at, at least, 200 words per minute stopped when there was a knock at the door. “Come in.” Said Silco with his usual sombre tone. He always filled the room with a certain coldness few were able to tolerate or enjoy, for that matter. Sevika entered the room. “Someone wants to talk to you.” 

He nodded, giving her permission to let them in. 

During the conversation with whoever was sitting on the other side of the desk Jinx kept returning to the thought that brushed by her mind that morning. Shouldn’t someone as undoing as a daughter have a mother by her side? Jinx was good. Good at what she did, good at killing and even better at creation. She lacked the maternal hand that was supposed to lead her through life even if she wasn’t exactly aware of what she was looking for she needed someone to guide her through her life. 

On the other hand, Silco, the effective ruler of Zaun, didn’t have anyone to share the parental burdens of life with. The swooning crowd of power-hungry women in the city weren’t a good choice for a mother. Not for someone as unpredictable as Jinx. 

Jinx was convinced you fell from heaven for her, how could he not see it? A godsend perfect for what she needed.

The Last Drop was busy. People talking, the air stuffy with Zaunite tensions, dilemmas and the smoke being extruded out of the lungs of many. He noticed you before, an everyday woman, providing her parents with whatever they needed in their old age. He didn’t do many of the job interviews himself, his lesser henchmen took care of that, but the barkeep of The Last Drop was the person he came to care for. 

“You’re hired.” He said at the end of your chat.

You were used to people chatting you up while you were behind the bar, an additional drink, boredom or true infatuation were all at play here. Never… this. “What can I get you?” You said when someone took the only free stool at the bar. When they didn’t answer you so you turned around to check them out. If they were a danger to the well being of the people inside or the bar itself you’d rather they threatened the guards than you. 

What transpired was truly bizarre. You expected to see anyone here, Sevika in a foul mood, Jinx with a gun to your head or even one of the lesser lackeys of the many people running this city. Silco? Silco was last on your list.

You froze in place almost dropping the pint you were holding. Quickly you put it on the counter in front of the person who ordered it and turned your attention to him. He looked at you with an unusual intent, normally when you’d look over to his usual spot he’d be smoking and surveying the room with his ice-cold vision, today there was… need. 

You were stuck in place not being able to even utter a word in such presence. After a moment more of scaring you into an early grave he spoke. “Come to the back, someone will take your place for tonight.” Suddenly terror turned into anxiety. “Am I being replaced?” He only stood up and went around the bar to presumably accompany you there. 

Your heart was pounding and your hands were sweaty, this could be your execution you realised. Your mind was going a million miles a minute, combing through all your wrongdoings and if you were eligible for any pardon. 

He didn’t enjoy that scared expression on your face, he enjoyed them on most people with exception to Jinx and well… you. “Nothing to be afraid of, lady.” Said Jinx toying with her gun. That definitely didn’t mitigate your concerns. “She’s right.” Said Silco somehow appearing behind you. You jumped at his sudden intrusion into your personal space. 

Explaining what they wanted was certainly difficult. You had a lot of questions regarding your new position as a… babysitter for Jinx? You’d never say that out loud for fear of swift death. The payment was lucrative as well so you decided on accepting the offer. At the end of the talk you were more or less familiarised with what this job entailed, along with being a co-parent to Silco, you were to be on their beck and call, still you retained the position of the barkeep. 

As all people you were a bit afraid of Jinx. Looking at her she was inconspicuous, the braids giving her a child-like wonder look to her. Underneath you could feel a profound sadness sitting inside of her and you were determined to make this weird little fucked up family a happy one at least. 

You were happy to tend to wounds, look after The Last Drop when needed and listen to Jinx talk for hours. With time, Silco grew fond of you. Your mannerisms of a caring and doting parental figure, despite all which burdened you, would soon make him swoon. 

One night after closing when you were wiping down tables Silco walked in, in an unusually good mood. He leaned on one of the clean tables. “Hello. How was your day?” You asked mindlessly, not noticing him inching closer and closer to your figure. Nobody else was in the room when it all happened. 

You weren’t the best at concealing your growing affection towards Silco. The longing stares weren’t doing you any good and the fact that somehow he kept catching you was even worse. You were sure your position was soon to be terminated. 

He spun you around and caged your body between his own. His breath was warm and falling just over your chest. “Silco?” You dared. 

“You make me sick with worry sometimes.” He was… smiling? Silco was smiling? You couldn’t make anything out, your head was spinning from the proximity and his cologne. “Look at me.” He demanded grabbing your chin and tilting it upwards. “I’ve got a question.” You nodded. “Do you want to dance?” You were stunned.

The tables were moved to the sides as Silco put a few coins into the jukebox and began striding towards you with the delicacy and grace of a cat. You put your arm on his shoulder and grasped his other one. He led you around the room to the song being played and amidst the growing tension, brought his lips to yours, hesitantly. The kiss was magical, you could feel yourself rising above the roof when he finally closed the gap. You reciprocated the kiss and as the song faded away he put his hands on your cheeks trying to get as close to you as possible.

He thought he’d lost the spark and now, here you were. 

.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ masterlist

[cheeseceli]

Sides of SKZ they only show around their s/o

Pairing: ot8!skz × gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff and maybe a little bit of angst

A/n: idk if that makes sense and I'm sorry if it happens to be repetitive but ! I liked to write it so yeah. As always, not proofread

Bang Chan - He's Reckless

Being the eldest sibling, eldest member and the leader of stray kids, Chan became pretty much a parental figure for many. He's always looking out for everybody, making sure everything is okay and dealing with any problem. Don't get him wrong, he loves his job and the people in his life, but sometimes it's exhausting to take care of everything. When he met you though, everything changed. He feels that he can let go. He can be reckless and ask for attention some times. Because, for once, there's someone taking care of him.

Lee Know - He's scared

Usually, he is a confident and even cocky guy. With you though, he is scared. Scared that he might lose you. Scared that his job or personality might scare you. Scared that someone out there is better than him and you'd soon find out. He can't bear to lose you, he doesn't want to imagine a life without you in it. So he'll fight each one of his fears if that means you'll be with him till the very end.

Changbin - He doesn't care

I feel like he always wants to give people the right impression. He wants to say the right thing, behave the right way and hope people will be always satisfied. But suddenly he doesn't care that much anymore. Because he already managed to impress you and you're more than satisfied. Above all of that, you love him. People's opinions are not that important after all.

Hyunjin - He's aware

Always an artist, he knew how to appreciate the beauty in the world since a young age. But since he fell for you every moment seems like an epiphany. The autumn leaves are beautiful, falling with grace. The old lady talking to a kid brings tears to his eyes for an unknown reason. He realises how the breeze is refreshing and how he loves you dearly. He thinks for a second that maybe you're the one who brought life to this world, and he is so happy that he can see all this beauty when he's with you.

Han - He doesn't think

Most of the time, he's too self conscious about his actions and his words, like he needs to be super cautious with everything. Self doubt and overthinking is part of his routine at this point, except when you're with him. You're his safe place. Whenever you're with him, he just does or says whatever he thinks and is never scared you'll judge him, because he knows you never would.

Felix - He's protective

He has a kind nature. He usually doesn't look up for confrontation and is always gentle. But then you came to his life as the most precious treasure he ever saw and now he wants to protect it. Because you're the light of his life and he'll fight anything and anyone if that means you'll be safe. He would happily be your knight in a shining armour if you asked him.

Seungmin - He's vulnerable

Most people only see his "mean" personality or how he doesn't show a lot of affection towards others. We all know he actually is really caring but when it comes to you he's also vulnerable. He doesn't care if one can perceive him as "weak", and he's not scared of oversharing by accident. When he's with you, he's made of glass, but he doesn't mind as he knows you'd never break him.

I.N - He's perfeccionist

You're the best thing to ever happen to him and he is aware of that. He wants to give his all to you and he wants you to be treated like royalty. So he is always trying his best to make sure you're treated like one. He always wants everything to be perfect, because he believes that perfect is still so little compared to what you truly deserve.

Feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[dilfl0v3rss]

ma’am we need some more ony smut.. you can never have too much 🙂

RAHHHHH😛

“you missed me baby?” ony grumbled, his hand tightening around the back of your neck as he fed you the deepest strokes you could possibly imagine. his dick was hitting all the right places and you were completely out of it. you thought it was a good idea to take a break from everything negative in your life and try to be happier and cleaner. which was great to ony until you sent him that wack ass text that he was included in the negative part of your life. the drug dealer was appalled, his body filled with shock and anger as he read your message over and over again.

future bm👩🏾‍🍼

‘this not gon work out no more ony’

‘you too toxic for me and i will never be truly happy and find a man that’ll treat me the way i deserve if i keep fuckin wit you’

ony was furious, but as the chill guy he was he decided against coming to your house or popping up at your job. he knew you would come back to him eventually because there was absolutely no way any man could be better for you than him no matter how “toxic” for you he was. he was a toxin you loved. all he sent was a quick ‘bet’ before moving on with his day, acting as if your words didn’t bring the worst anger out of him. days went by, turning into weeks and before you knew it a month had passed. you were living the happier life you knew you deserved and even started messing with a new guy. jean treated you nice, always picking you up from work and taking you to your favorite spots to eat. he kept you happy and healthy and ate pussy like you wouldn’t believe, but that wasnt enough.

he didn’t check you the way you wanted him to, wouldn’t manhandle you in the way that made you want to melt into the sheets, didn’t say things that would make your thighs shake or heart skip a beat. he didn’t fuck you the way you wanted, the way ony did. so it was only natural that to cut him loose in the end, and take your ass right back where you belong.

“hey mama how was your break” ony said with a smirk as he looked you up and down from his front door. his shirt was nowhere to be found as he stood in his durag and sweatpants. you kept your eyes trained on the ground, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how needy you looked right now. “can i come in?” you whispered, your small voice sending a signal to his dick that it was time to wake up. ony loved how shy you got when you came to back to him, the feeling of pride creeping into his chest every time as he looked at your much smaller form practically beg for him without saying a word.

all he did was move to the side, leaving just enough room for you to walk in before closing the door behind you. ony took in the sight of your outfit. a pretty, yellow sundress that hugged all of your curves as well as some fuzzy little slides that showed the pretty pink paint on your toes. of course these were items he’s bought you, as well as the gold necklace and matching anklet with his initial on it. ony couldn’t help but smile at your eagerness for forgiveness, his dick now fighting with the restraints of his sweats as he watched your ass move as you walked towards his room in the dress he bought you.

before you made it to the bed, you felt his big hands grab at your waist, pulling your back towards his chest as he spoke lowly in your ear. “before we do this i gotta know…..you let him fuck you?” a rush of fear ran through your body, stilling you as you tried your hardest not to look guilty. the feeling of his dick poking your ass distracting you as you took a small breath of air. your action told ony everything he needed to know, a tinge of anger rushing through him as he moved his hand flat on your back before slowly bending you over the bed. “i-it wasn’t like you tho daddy” you whined, your voice dripping with fear as you tried to ease the pain of your actions, but it didn’t work. ony just continued on, lifting up your dress to find that you weren’t wearing any panties before slowly freeing his dick from the confines of his pants. “don’t run”

he thrusted into you without prep or warning, feeding you each and every inch of his dick as you screamed bloody murder in the sheets. your wetness already surrounding him as you felt him already begin to move in and out of you. “must be crazy” his voice was low and taunting, the feeling of his rough palms on your ass making your brain turn to mush. “w-we was never t’gether thooo, and y-you was mean t’me pa” you whined, your words slurred as you tried your best to reason with this man, but ony just scoffed. his hips moving harder and he slid his hand to the back of your neck. he pushed your face deep into the sheets, letting you release your screams there as he angled his dick downward towards your stomach.

“bitch we was always together. who pussy is this? say it” you opened your mouth to speak, but no words came through. just spit and tears reaching the sheets as your walls clenching tighter and tighter around his dick. usually ony would let this slide, but since you liked to go out fucking niggas he had to be a little more stern with you. a hard slap was sent to your ass, the sound bouncing off the walls of his room. the feeling lingered on the fatty flesh as you screamed into the sheets at the contact. “answer me when m’talking t’you mama. unless you want me t’stop” his threat instantly brought you back, your whines much more audible as you lifted your face from the sheets.

“n-nooo don’t stoppp” a smirk planted on ony’s face at your desperation, his hand rubbing the hot skin of your ass while he looked at the white ring of cream surrounding his dick. “then answer me” your pussy fluttered as you told him the words he wanted to hear. “s’yours daddy. s’your pussy” a smirk crept on his face, the golds on the canines of his teeth making an appearance as he moved both of his hands to your waist, pushing your stomach to the bed completely before quickening to a relentless pace. “uhh huh, now tell daddy you sorry” ony’s deep voice sent many shivers down your spine, your arch going even deeper as you felt his dick in your stomach. he pulled your head out of the sheets by your hair, giving you just enough room to talk to him as he continued his brutal pace on your sore pussy. “m’sorry daddy m’never gonna talk to him again”

satisfied with your response, ony gave you a quick “good girl” before easing up just a little, his dick hitting your g spot a little gentler as he pulled your back towards his chest, his hand around your middle as he moved his other towards your chin. his brown eyes looked deep into yours as he searched for any lie, but he found none. ony smiled as he watched your face contort into many ones of pleasure. your release rushing towards you as you fucked your self back on his dick. “you missed daddy baby? missed me right here?” he said, his hand rubbing on your stomach as he felt your walls clench in agreement. you nodded your head, letting out a small “yea” before moving your hand towards your chest, your eyes never leaving his as you pushed down on where your heart was. “m-missed you r-right here too” ony felt his heart swell at the sight, his grills completely bare to you as he gave you a happy smile.

“missed you more mama, next time you touch another nigga ima kill him y’hear me?” your pussy fluttered at his words, eyes struggling to stay straight as you mirrored ony’s smile.

“i hear you”

[lastoneout]

Honestly, I don't say it often bcs I know how this site is but I really do think for a lot of survivors of abuse, especially abuse that went on for years and years, sometimes the message "it's not your fault, you didn't do anything wrong/to deserve this" while ABSOLUTELY TRUE* isn't actually super helpful. For a lot of us there's a LOT of guilt tied into it, and even if things were truly out of our hands we will not be able to accept that we are truly blameless, at least not at first, and maybe for some of us not ever. So being told "no dw you didn't do anything wrong <3 <3 you're innocent" feels...idk like some toxic positivity style lies. It doesn't make me feel better, because I still do feel like there were things that happened that were my fault, that were in my control, even an ethicist or god or whoever could look me dead in the eyes, weigh all the facts, and assure me of my complete innocence, and I still wouldn't believe it. (Tbh, you have to be ready to forgive yourself and trying to force it early does more harm than good.)

And I occasionally see movies and shows and stuff get roasted all to hell for having the audacity to go with a different message, to offer abused characters not a platitude about how they are innocent and should forgive themselves asap, but instead say "so what if it was your fault? so what if you fucked up? you're still alive, you still have time, your mistakes(or perceived mistakes) don't make you irredeemable scum who deserves to suffer, it's okay that you fucked up, what matters is what you do next, and even if the horrible thing was your fault in one way or another or you did actually hurt people, you still did NOT deserve to be hurt in turn" because people think that is like, admitting that the person in question is at fault when they almost always aren't....but as an actual survior, I'm sorry, you can tell me I'm innocent till the cows come home and I won't believe it. What I need to hear is that even if it was my fault I didn't deserve to be treated that way. I still deserve help. I deserve to keep going. I am not forever stained by my mistakes. I deserve a future free from this pain.

I think before we look at things in this like...grand moral way where we try to make sure we're sending the most Correct and Healthy Message Possible, sometimes it's worth asking if that message is actually the one the people it's about need to hear. I'm sure for some people it is very freeing to be told it's not their fault, but that kind of message does not resonate with me. And I, as well as people like me, deserve to expirience stories about us that are cathartic, that resonate, that make us feel seen, and to not have to see everyone and their mom throw a fit because what helps us is "problematic".

Anyway this has been mulling around in my head for a while and I def have a lot more to say about the way guilt manifests in trauma born of abuse, but yeah I just feel like this is something that should be talked about when we bring up abuse narratives and how well written they are and if they send the Correct Message, because the "Correct Message" is never going to be the same for everyone. And that's true of ANY demographic you could choose to represent!

Like some disabled people might enjoy the "magically healed" trope while others find it offensive. Some trans people like stories where transitioning is easy as drinking a potion or getting a fancy futuristic surgery and some find that that trivializes their struggles. Some queer people want stories where there's just no homophobia at all, others find that a world without it feels fake and patronizing. Some women do want to read stories about how keeping hearth and home is noble and empowering and others want read about women who have other jobs and never have kids or get married. For some of us "you're beautiful no matter what" is lovely and some of us just want to be told being fat and hairy and having acne and scars and shit is normal and fine. Or, like the last post I reblogged says, sometimes "you're not a burden" doesn't hit as well as "being a burden isn't a bad thing". No one type of representation is ever going to work for everyone, and that doesn't mean one type of rep is objectively wrong and the other is objectively right.

So yeah, the next time you find yourself angry because you think a story is sending the wrong message about a marginalized or harmed group, maybe stop for a second to ask yourself if it's actually harmful...or if you're not the person who the story is speaking to, and if there's someone it is talking to who desperately needs to hear what it has to say.

(*Getting ahead of this now: Do not put words in my mouth. I am not saying that any abused person in any way deserved their abuse or was at fault for it happening, that is not up for debate. The fault is always in the hands of the person who chose to hurt them. I'm just saying it's nuanced and complicated and guilt is a huge fucking issue that survivors have to deal with all the time and it's not wrong to acknowledge that some of us are always going to feel like we did something wrong and not be eased by being told otherwise even if the person saying it is 100% correct and/or means well. I do not have time for people who are going to willfully misinterpret me. You will be blocked.)

[fireflysummers]

Good Omens S2

Okay so.

Excellent Job, Gaiman

Ouch???

I don't like to publicly talk about my personal life. My academic life is my professional life is my artist life. But my personal life? Not so much, outside of vignettes.

But for the past several months, I've been deconstructing a lot of personal baggage and trauma surrounding both family and religion, after leaving the cult I was raised in (mormonism).

It's terrifying to realize that the framework you built your entire self on is false. It's exhausting and painful to deconstruct that framework, to disentangle your identity in the way that won't destroy you.

And it's slow.

Nobody ever tells you how slow it is to heal. You can't control the rate you heal either. You just have to be patient with yourself, and give yourself an environment where that healing can occur safely and naturally.

Anyways.

Good Omens, and its weird tendency to be exactly what I need when I need it.

I first read Good Omens in high school. And honestly, I didn't quite get it, at the time. I only knew it was different from every other book I've ever read, one that didn't treat religion as stupid or trivial, but also one that called out the blatant hypocrisy and control tactics involved. It helped me safely challenge a status quo I hadn't even realized existed.

I first watched Good Omens partway into my Master's Degree. It was everything that I could've hoped for. I understood the book a lot better, but the TV adaptation captured my struggles with mental dissonance, trying to understand and accept the parts of my identity that I was taught God didn't want.

I watch S2 a year into my doctoral program. I'm out of the cult, and it's exhilarating and painful and scary and fun, but I can still feel the scars its hooks left when they were torn out.

I feel like S2 Aziraphale is in about the same place. He's exploring his freedom, but also trying to reorient himself. He's trying to let himself be. He's healing, but his boundaries got overridden due to circumstances out of his control (naked Gabriel). He's been pulled back into the gravity of the abusive system he tried to escape, given a carrot on a stick, and isn't yet healed or strong enough to resist.

On top of that, Aziraphale is still holding onto the hope that the problem was bad individuals, not a corrupted system. He thinks if the leadership is different, things can change. He thinks if he had more authority in the system, he could make things change. And... that's not how it works.

And Crowley. Dear Crowley.

He wants Aziraphale to be farther along in his healing than he is. Honestly, Aziraphale wants it too. But again, you cannot force this kind of healing, even when it results in a loved one making some truly stupid decisions.

Crowley sees the system for what it is. He's already deconstructed that part. But he hasn't really started addressing his own trauma. He's hinged his entire existence on Aziraphale, on being what Aziraphale needs, that he hasn't allowed himself to heal either. And Aziraphale, who is vulnerable and healing, is not able to provide the support that Crowley would need to recover safely.

Which is why them separating is probably the best thing for both of them.

It won't be permanent.

But they don't communicate, and their relationship while delightful and beautiful risks unhealthy codependency that prevents either from really growing or healing.

Anyways, what I really hope to see next season is Aziraphale's realization that the system never had his back. That the system is what's wrong, and that he can't win by playing at respectability politics or gaining a higher status within it.

I want Aziraphale to get angry.

He deserves it. He's tried so hard. He thinks he's lost Crowley over it.

I want him to feel the gut-wrenching despair of realizing how conditional and fleeting the system's version of love is, and I want it to turn into a rage.

But not a destructive rage--the sort of anger that Pratchett ascribes to himself and many of his works. The sort of anger that fueled Discworld and Good Omens. The sort that can be finessed into a weapon and a shield, that can be used to protect the people who truly love you.

For millennia we see Crowley fighting for Aziraphale.

For Season 3, I want to see Aziraphale fighting for his demon.

For him to apologize, without the expectation that Crowley will come back, but because he was wrong and Crowley needs to know it. To not expect forgiveness, not even think he deserves it.

And then for Crowley--who is trying to hide his heart eyes at seeing his avenging angel coming to save him for once, who he can tell immediately has changed, and is finally going Crowley's speed)--for Crowley to give that forgiveness, without strings attached.

[dearsnow]

I’D HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT

- you still think about the man that broke your heart years later. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x gn!/fem!reader, pure angst (sorry))

word count: 719

a/n - writing angst scratches a part of my writing urges that nothing else can fill lol. i prefer reading fluff, but writing is another story- funny, huh? anyways, enjoy. here’s to writing that doesn’t have a happy ending <3

When your boyfriend was deployed the first time, you thought it wouldn’t be too bad. It was just a few months, right?

You wrote letters, and you sent emails, and you called just enough to whet your taste for his voice before he was pulled away. You’d do anything for Bradley Bradshaw, and he knew it.

“I just don’t think it’s going to work out.” His words fell from his mouth and shattered on your floor like broken glass. You felt a lump form in your throat, choking you. He was saying the one thing you never wanted to hear. “You know how my job is. I’d never be able to treat you like you deserve. I’m sorry, but we have to break it off.”

A stinging set off behind your eyes, clouding your vision and pulling your eyes down to the floor. You could wait. You would take the crumbs of him that he offered like a starved animal, no matter how long you went without food. Didn’t he understand that you’d have waited lifetimes? That you loved him more than you’ve loved anything? You needed him like air, but he needed you like solid ground; if he was in the water, he could survive without you.

“But I love you,” you protested, “I’d wait.”

He shook his head. He loved you too, and that’s why he left you to fend for yourself.

It took three years for you to find someone else, two years for you to marry them, and one more before you had your first child. She was four when you had your second, a boy. He’s three now.

Twelve years. It took twelve years for Bradley to finally leave your mind. You’re reorganizing your old things, discarding everything from your life before your family. That’s when you happen upon a letter you wrote so long ago it seems like a distant dream, yet so fresh in your mind that you can recite a few lines by memory.

Dear Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw,

I will always love you.

You’re my Achilles heel. I want you so desperately it burns, it burns my throat and my eyes and my heart. I don’t think I can get over that kind of burn.

I’ll move on, though, as I’m sure that’s what you wanted for me. I’ll marry someone. I’ll have children. I’ll have that white picket fence suburban dream, the one where your new neighbors bake you brownies and the sun is just a little too hot all the time. I’ll have a stable life, a nice one. I’ll have a pool and a two-story house. I might even get a dog or three for my kids to play with– a golden retriever trio that came from the same stray litter.

But if you came to me, walked up to my home, and smiled at me through the window, it would be like nothing ever changed. I’m terrified even now that I’ll say your name when my boyfriend wraps his arms around my waist. If you asked me to leave with you, to turn in my divorce papers and lose custody of the children I’ll eventually have, I’d have to think about it. I would have to think about leaving everything I’ve built to elope with you.

What scares me is that I would probably end up doing it.

So, I hope I never see you again, because I don’t want to have to break the hearts of those who love me. And I also hope that if you knock on my door, I’ll have the strength to close it.

Yours truly,

The One Who Would Have Waited.

You set the envelope down on your desk with watery eyes. The worst part about finding the slightly crumpled letter is that it still rings true after all this time, even after you told yourself it held no weight. You’ll forget about the letter eventually, you tell yourself. You’ll forget about the person written in black ink, too.

You have a good life, no one can doubt that. You tell yourself that nothing could be better. But when you think about the love of your life, you don’t think about the person you married.

You think about the man with a mustache who broke your heart so many years ago.

[breannasfluff]

Samantha Manson,

Most of your letter remains childish insults, which I shall ignore. Observe who has more maturity in this situation (not you.)

Unlike your hurtful stereotypes of rich families, I care about the animals I encounter. I suppose it’s hard to understand for someone who likely owns a chicken they treat as a pet. 

You shall have to check the Gotham News for your answer on nail painting. If you can even access the internet in your location. If you need, I might be persuaded to post you a copy. I’m sure it would be a novelty to read about life in the big city.

Samantha, as you are so fond of reminding me, I am a child! You should not use fowl foul language in your correspondence to me.

Also, commenting on Nightwing’s visual appearance is highly insulting. Nightwing is the most adept member of the vigilantes. He was brave enough to protect an entire city on his own, rather than relying on a team who can barely capture the villain of the day. 

Truly, you are a disappointment to your sex.

Sincerely,

Damian Al-Ghul Wayne

~~~

Listen here you little FUCKER–

I’ll say whatever shit I want to you! How dare you insult my sex; that’s like saying all your failings are from being male when clearly they are a result of your awful personality. The fact that your mom isn’t in the picture sure says a lot about how much she wants to deal with you.

We might not have internet, but I read the smoke signals from the neighboring village and saw the picture of your nails. Did you do them yourself? Because it’s not very readable. Not that Robin deserves better. Oh, by the way, I’ve never seen such a bad case of resting bitch face on a boy before. You really hated that nail job, didn’t you? 

I heard Nightwing was the first Robin. I’ve seen videos–sorry, hillbilly visions–and believe it. You know what’s really messed up? He didn’t have any pants! What kind of adult takes a kid out to fight crime without pants? The messed-up kind, that’s who. Child endangerment at its finest. 

It’s too bad he added pants to the Nightwing outfit. Showing off his legs would have enhanced the ass package. 

Still Sam,

Sam

Read the rest here

[punishereditz]

Jazzy Woman

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Plus size!f!reader

Warnings: 18 plus only! Minors DNI! DO NOT COPY! Lead up to smut. Fluff. Unprotected sex. P in V. Oral. (f receiving) Praise kink. Size kink. Riding. Fingering. Hair pulling. Insecure reader. Mentions of insecurities and self-doubt.

AN: As someone who is plus sized; this story truly means the world to me. And is a reminder that all bodies are beautiful and that you deserve to treat yourself right. Words can't say how proud I am of this and how much I love this. Now, I could be wrong, but I like to think that Bradley would be into curvy girls. Also, go listen to all the songs! They are amazing!

Summary: You don't think your pretty enough and worthy of having love or being with someone. But Bradley thinks very differently of that.

~

Bradley loves to come to the bar to have a good time with his friends, drink and sing. But his motivation for coming to The Hard Deck changed. He comes every single night, just so he can see you. And if he can't come one night for some reason, he is devastated.

A few months ago, he walked into the bar like a normal weekend evening for him, but instead of Penny giving him his drink, it was you. You recently moved here to California after family matters, to get away. Starting over for yourself. Moving into your tiny apartment and landing a job here at The Hard Deck. Now working every night. You quickly got to know Bradley. Being for the fact you see him just as much as you see Penny. He is definitely a man who leaves an impression and doesn't mind filling the room with his presence. Unlike you who likes to keep hidden behind the bar, keeping to yourself in your own little world. Not making much of any effort to put yourself out there in the open with the extra attention.

And Bradley quickly learned that. He has tried time and time again to try and get you out from behind that bar, but you have turned him down every single time. He sits and watches you stay in the corner. But he notices the small things. Like how when you're working, your hips will sway to certain songs and your head will bob to the beat.

He wants to learn everything about you. To your favorite song to the spots on your body that makes you feel good. Thats why, tonight, he is determined to do just that. Not going to leave this bar until he has the real you having a conversation with him. Even better if you go home with him. But, for now he will more than happy just to have a pure conversation with you. Anything to know more about you.

"Hey." He tries to capture your attention now that the bar is slowing down.

"Yes? Do you need another drink?" You smile warms his soul.

"No, actually. I was hoping I could talk to you." He has a small smile. His hazel eyes fixated on you.

"Okay." Your leery.

"I was thinking, maybe we could go grab some food when you get off. What do you say?"

"I say, you know the answer to this question Bradley." You cross your arms over your chest. Leaning against the bar.

He lets his head fall forward, sighing. Knowing exactly what the answer is, but he doesn't want to hear it. He wants to hear anything but that. The words he gets every single time he tries to get close to you.

"I get off of work to late." And there it is.

"That's not a problem for me."

You sigh. Looking up at the smirking man. Knowing that his stubbornness will not take no for an answer. It's not that you want to say no. God, you want to say yes and spend your nights with him. But you keep pushing him away because you know a man as attractive as he is, could never have interest in a woman with your looks. It just can't be.

You wonder why he does give you so much attention to you. Why he is determined to be close to you at all times. He could go get any woman he wants in the bar. No man that comes in here gives you two looks, but yet he is sitting in a stool watching your every step. Why in the world would he have his eyes on me? It plays around in your head.

"Nice try Roo." You do what you do best. Push him away. Tell him no when you're screaming yes in your mind. When all you want to do is have a nice night with a man you find attractive and enjoy being in his presents. But that fear of yours, that voice inside your head overpowers you. It tells you and reminds you that you will never be good enough, that you're not pretty enough, and that a man like him could never take an interest in you. So, you walk away. Going back to work. Leaving Bradley sitting there in silence. Leaving him with his thoughts.

While you're thinking about why he gives you so much attention, he is thinking about why you give him so little attention. Why say no. Why a beautiful, captivating woman like you shuts yourself off from him and others. He wants to know what you see in yourself. What's going through your mind. What is it that he sees that you don't see? Just as his mind wonders on you, he sees you walk over to the stereo. Turning the volume up. When you return back, you're humming. Your body flowing. The movement of you enchanting him. He listens to the song, hearing Motownphilly by Boys || Men playing.

As he watches you, he has never you seen you so alive. Yes, you hum and move to some songs, but he has never seen a song move you so like this one does. Seeing this, he also sees an opportunity. "I didn't take you to be a Boy's || Men girl."

"Excuse me?"

"The song. You like it?" He raises a brow. Biting at his lip to hide his smile.

"Yeah. It's my favorite song. My Dad use to play it for me growing up." You don't even realize your letting that wall slip. But Bradley watches as it falls.

"You listen to hip hop?"

"Jazz." You correct him.

"Jazzy woman..." He whispers to himself. His plan going perfectly according to plan. "Have you heard Always Be My Baby by Brasstracks?" He continues.

You turn to him. A look of surprise on your expression. "You know Brasstracks?" You say in shock. Thinking you were the only one who listened to them. His smile grows as he nods.

"Wow..." You trail off. "What about Highroad by Sir Woman?" You ask. Bradley slowly becoming head over heels for you as he sees you get so enthusiastic and passionate about something.

"Yeah, I know that one. Musta Been A Ghost by Proxima Parada?" He asks.

"Sober by Earl St. Clair?"

"You Know I'm No Good by Amy Winehouse?"

"Didn't It Rain by Sister Rosetta Tharpe?"

"Oo, Nowhere To Run by Martha Reeves & The Vandellas?"

"It's So Easy by Margo & Mac?" You raise your eyebrows when he takes a long pause.

"Damn. You got me there. I haven't heard that one." He didn't think it was possible, but his smile somehow grew when he heard you laughing. Your head falling back and your smile wide.

This is exactly what he wanted. Learning that you like Jazz and then seeing you laugh at him. And not being able to stop smiling. It's everything he has wished for.

"You should give it a listen." As you smile warmly at him, longingly looking into those dark eyes, you realize he trapped you. That he's the wrecking ball and he just tumbled the wall you built. That he slipped right in and got to you. He paid close attention and found the thing you love and the thing that you could talk about for hours and started slowly pulling back the tape until he had you fully showing the true you. Now you see what he done. Now, you're going to walk away. Scared at the fact that he was able to get to you.

You sigh in defeat. Looking up at the clock realize that it's almost closing time. Not even realizing that Penny called last round. "Would you like to close your tab?" You ask him. He looks at you confused. Looking over at the clock, he realizes he has to get going. "Yeah, that will be fine." You do so. Starting to wipe down the counters but he still sits there.

"So..." He stands from his seat. "I'll meet you outside. We can finish our conversation over some pizza." He smiles at you, and you laugh. Resting your hand on your hip, shaking your head.

"Bradley..." You trail off.

"Yes?" He answers.

"I see what you did there. That was a nice attempt." You scoff. But not at him. More so at yourself.

"How about this..." He walks over to. Leaning against the wood. Getting inches from you. "If you don't enjoy yourself. I'll leave you be. But if you have a good time with me. We do this again next Saturday."

You take a moment to think. Looking away from those burning eyes. You know you will enjoy it. You don't want to admit it, but you loved talking to him. How easy it was. Talking about the things you love. Hell, he made you laugh and smile even.

"You get one chance, Bradley. And that's it." You say firmly, pointing your finger at him. You walk away. Getting your coat. Talking with Penny, her telling you that she's got it, and she can finish closing up. Telling you to go have a good time. So, you get your things. Getting in Bradley's Bronco. Driving you both to the Pizza place down in town that stays open all night for some reason.

Bradley putting on the radio and continuing to ask you about what music you like. How you got into music. What it means to you. Why you like Jazz. Such and such. Asking you anything and everything he can ask. Getting you to talk. As badly as he wants to look at how your face lights up when you speak, he pays attention to the road, and even closer attention to your voice. It smooths him. Relaxes him in a way. Hearing you talk about any and every song you know. From Sighed, Sealed, Delivered, by Stevie Wonder, You Can't Judge A Book By It's Cover by Bo Diddley to Stay Away From Me by Puff Kennedy, All Good by Samm Henshaw, Foreplay by Jalen Santoy and Love + U by Jensen & The Flips. You all but named every song you had on your playlist to him, and he loved hearing about every single one of them.

Next thing you know, you're ordering the pizza and walking back to his Bronco to go back to his place. From talking to the music, it led to telling stories. Mention a song and something crazy that happened when it played. Talking about how different songs remind you of different things. The stories flowing so nicely, your confused when he stops and gets out of the car, walking over to your side to open your door now that you are at his place.

"Okay. Tell me this. Favorite song from a movie?" He looks down at you as you both walk to his door.

"No. I'm not saying it!" You laugh. A specific song coming to your mind.

"Oh, well, you have to tell me now." He laughs with you. The both of you sitting on his couch. You cover your face with your hands. Your knees coming up to your chest. "Don't go getting shy on me now." He coos.

You sigh, "Something That I Want by Grace Potter." You answer.

"The song from Tangled?" He asks and you nod. "Is that your favorite movie?"

"Maybe." You speak. He opens the pizza box. Taking a slice for himself, then another for you. Holding it out in front of you but you put your hand up, shaking your head. "I'm not that hungry." You tell him. Your already out of your comfort zone. You're not about to go and eat in front of him. There is no way it's going to happen.

He frowns. But he doesn't make you eat. He sit's it back in the box. Pushing it so it is facing you in case you change your mind and want it. Comfortable silence falling between the two of you. He eats, leaned against the arm of the couch with his legs spread. You take your shoes off. Leaned against the other arm. Stretching your legs out on the couch. His eyes traveling over your body. At how close you are to him. How badly he wants to touch you. His mind focused on your beauty. The dimples on your cheeks. How your hair barely lays over your shoulders. Your hands interlaced on your lap.

He brings his hand up. Placing it on your ankle, starting to rub small circles. "God, you're gorgeous." He whispers.

"What?" You look up at him. Furrowing your eyebrows. His eyes come to meet yours.

"You're gorgeous." He speaks clearly. You move your head back like to look at him better. The line between your eyebrows growing and your lips parted. You chuckle. "Ha, no. No. Please, don't do that." You shake your head, looking away from him. He squeezes your leg. "Look at me." His eyes are boarded into yours. You squeeze your thighs together. Arousal pooling in-between your legs. He shifts in his seat. Turning his body so that he is facing you. His hand moves from your ankle up to your closed thighs. He leans over you. His face inches away. His lips hovering over yours. The hairs of his mustache tickling the top of your lip. The tension between the two of you heavy. He tries to kiss you, but you move away. Thinking why the hell Bradley Bradshaw finds you attractive.

"Say it." He whispers into your ear. His hand kneading your thigh. Biting your lip, trying to control your breathing. "Say what?" You question. Your voice soft.

"Say, 'I'm beautiful'. I want to hear you say it." He pulls away from your neck to look into your eyes.

"I'm not saying it." You say firmly. Heat creeping up your neck and to your cheeks. You don't think your beautiful. Why should you say it? You gasp in shock when he suddenly pushes your legs open. Pulling you down where you lay against the arm of the couch. Using his legs to keep yours spread wide for himself. Trapping you under him. One of his hands caressing your side and the other by your head, holding himself up.

His lips come to yours. This time, you don't move away. You lean into him. Wrapping your arms around his neck. Lacing your fingers through his soft hair. His hand kneading your breast now, making you moan into his mouth.

"So beautiful." He mumbles. Pulling away from your lips. Kissing along your jawline. Down your neck. "I am not." You stated.

"Oh, really?" He pulls away. "I guess I'll just have to show you then." He kisses right below your ear. Pulling a moan from you. "Show you how beautiful you are. Show you how you need to be touched." He speaks between kisses.

The touch of his lips and the touch of his hands leaves you panting under him. Catching yourself trying to breath normally, your thighs trying to close together but Bradley doesn't allow it. He keeps them open, his bulge rubbing against your core. Driving you crazy, making your head spin like a carousel. It starting to get harder to control your moans.

His lips coming to yours. All tongue and teeth. His hands coming to your legs, wrapping them around his waist. He hosts you up in his arms, standing up. Making you yelp. "Bradley Bradshaw, put me down right now! I'm too heavy!" You slap his chest. His head falling back in laughter.

"Uh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you." He can't even get the sentence out without laughing. "Put me down!" You say firmly. Glaring at him.

"Okay. Okay." He mumbles. Putting you down. He doesn't even let you stand there for a whole two seconds before he throws you over his shoulder like a doll.

"Bradley!" You shout at him. He somehow laughs harder. Slapping your ass. He takes you into his bedroom. Stopping at the edge of the bed. He drops you down. Crawling back on top of you. His lips going to yours like a magnet. Not giving you anytime at all to speak. Not giving you time to do anything really. His hands coming up and pulling your jacket off. Throwing it to the side. His hand sliding up your shirt and to your breast. His other hand working at the buttons of your jeans. Not being able to get your clothes off of you fast enough. Your hands moving from his hair down to the hem of his shirt. He holds his arms up, letting you slide his shirt off of him. Your hands immediately going to his chest. Feeling his muscled, smooth skin. How he moves to your touch. If you weren't paying so much attention, you wouldn't have noticed how his breath hitched when you started touching him. How his cock jumped at your touch.

You try to unbutton his pants, but his hands come to yours. Pinning your hands above your head. "Not yet." His breath is heavy. His eyes hungry and you're the meal.

"But what about y-" You try to ask about him. About what he needs, but he cuts you off. "I've waited to long for this moment." He pauses. Jerking your pants down your legs. Throwing them to the floor to be found later. "I'm going to ruin you. Make you mine." He whispers in your ear. Pulling your shirt over your head. You try to cover your body. Try and hide, but Bradley doesn't allow it to happen. He pins your hands down. His eyes slowly ghosting over every inch of your body. Taking his time as he looks at you.

His hand moving and unclasping your bra. Throwing it as far as he can. Groaning at the sight of your bare skin. Finally exposed to him. He has you just how he wants. Naked and under him. Panting and desperate. This is everything he has imagined and more. He takes your breast in his mouth. Sucking, biting and kneading. Devouring you. Ruining you, just like he said he would. And he hasn't even started yet. This is only the beginning. He has already planned the whole night. His thoughts running wild like an animal set free to run in a field.

Even though he loves kissing every inch of your body, his patience can't take it anymore. He has to have more of you. With that, he laces his fingers in your underwear. Pulling them down. Diving into your core without hesitation. His tongue lapping circles around your clit. Pulling a moan from deep inside you. Your back arching off of the bed. Your hands gripping the sheets. Closing your thighs around his head. His hand coming to your thighs. Holding your legs open to give him room to move freely. He teases your entrance with his middle finger. Slowly pushing his finger in. Curling his finger at that spot inside of you that makes you weak. He adds another finger.

When your moans became louder. When you clenched your walls around his fingers, Bradley swore he entered heaven. He paid very close attention to your body. How his name continuously falls from your lips. How you pull his hair, how you try to grind your hips against his face. When he sucks your clit harshly, it makes your legs jerk and shake. Your mouth falling open, and your eyes shut. You look down to see Bradley's eyes already on you. The sight of him between your legs, looking at you like you're the most angelic thing he has ever seen, it sends shivers down your body. It sends you over the edge. Overwhelms you. That feeling in your stomach getting stronger, consuming you. Making you scream.

Bradley knows you are close. He knows you are about to come undone. You're the present and he is pulling at the strings, slowly opening you up. "Come for me." He groans against your core. The vibration of his words against you, the tone in his voice was enough to send you over the edge. That feeling getting so tight in your stomach until it is set free and your climax crashes over you. Bradley, helping you come down from your high. He stays still between your legs until he hears your breathing starting to slow down.

He pulls away. Licking his lips. Taking his fingers into his mouth. Sucking the cum off. Looking into your eyes as he does so. Looking over his face, at his red swollen lips and you're cum covering his chin and his mustache.

His lips come to yours. Kissing you as he pulls his pants down. Taking his cock in his hand. Pumping it. Precum leaking from it. He takes you in his arms. Walking around the bed, not breaking the kiss. He sits down. Placing you on his lap. You grind against his cock. His hips jolting up against you. His head falling back. Swears falling from his mouth. "Such a good girl." He mumbles against your skin. He holds the back of your neck. Pulling you to his lips. You attempt to lift your hips up so that your weight isn't on him, but he pushes you back down. Making you sit against him. "Bradley..." You say between kisses. He hums against your lips.

"I'm too heavy." You whisper. Looking down, avoiding his eyes. Trying to hide behind your hands.

"Hey..." He holds your chin. Tilting your head up. Making you look into his eyes. "You are not heavy. I don't want to hear that shit. Now... be a good girl and ride my cock." Your breath hitches at his words. Your walls clenching around nothing.

You nod. Lifting your hips. He lines his cock up with your entrance. Pushing the tip in. His hands holding your hips. "That's it. Just like that. Good girl. Take your time." He speaks between groans. Watching you as you slowly lower yourself down on his cock until he is bottomed out in you. You lift back up, then back down. Circling your hips. Starting to get into a rhythm. Riding his cock. Clenching your walls around him when the head of his cock hits that spot inside of you. Your action making Bradley grip your skin. His hand on your hip guiding you. His other hand moving to your hair. Pulling at it.

Kissing you. The kiss messy, wet and hot. His mouth moving down your neck. Biting your shoulder. Moaning out his name. Clenching around him. Beginning to move faster. All of it starting to become too much for Bradley. Your body pressed to his. Your breast bouncing in his face. Tight around his cock. Hearing his name being moaned. He does everything he can to try and make this last. To not immediately cum. Holding it back, trying to control himself. But your no better than him. That knot in your stomach coming back in a heartbeat. That heat growing back. The head of his cock hitting that spot repeatedly. Making your mind become cloudily. Your legs weak to the point they start shaking.

Your close. And you know he is too. His cock twitching in you. His groans becoming louder. His kisses becoming sloppy. You're both a mess. A mess over each other. He thrust his hips up. Meeting your movement. Starting to slam his cock into you. Pushing deeper inside of you. Filthy words coming from his mouth. His hands all over you. Moving from your thighs to your hips, your sides, your breast, your hair. Touching every part of your body he can get to. His hand going to your cunt. Pressing his finger to your clit. Rubbing harsh circles. Watching your head fall back.

"That's it. Uh, fuck. Come. Come all over my cock." He grunts. His hips getting sloppy. Knowing he won't be able to hold it together for much longer.

You do just as he says. Milking his cock. Your climax sending him into his. "Good girl. That's it. Uh, good girl." He fills you up with his cum. Shooting his seed deep in you. Starting to slow down, riding you both off of your high. Staying just like you are. You rest your forehead against his. His arms wrapping around your body. Holding you impossibly closer. You know as he holds you, that he is right. That he is right in every way. He has ruined you. You are his. And most of all, you did have a good time tonight. And you know you want to do this again. You see now that Bradley has opened up your eyes.

He moves his head away. Kissing you. He pulls out. Watching his come start to drip out of you. He looks up at you. Seeing your eyes already on him. Your lips starting to curl into a smile.

"What are you thinking about?" He tucks your hair behind your ear. Holding the side of your face.

"Just thinking about next Saturday. Same time? When I get off?" His smile grows.

"Yes ma'am." Bradley couldn't be happier than he is right now with you.

"Good. Cause I have plans for us."

"Is that so?" He tilts his head. His words teasing.

"Oh, yeah." You didn't think it was possible, but your smile somehow managed to grow.

Bradley grinned up at you. Holding you to him, he flips you on your back. Tenderly kissing your lips.

[canadianfangirl-95]

Frankie Morales- Sugar Daddy edition

Summary: You are a teacher at a private school in Texas and your colleagues warn you about one of your new parents, Mr. Morales. When you meet him, you’re blown away by the rich, suave, and extremely handsome man. He soon begins pursuing you and you must choose between keeping your job or giving in to the infatuation you feel for this man as he showers you with gifts and admiration.

About: This is the beginning of the sugar daddies AU Triple Frontier collection where each guy will get a f x reader pov story. The events of Triple Frontier are changed; No Tom (we hate Tom in this house), the helicopter never crashes so they make it to the ocean without incident, each taking home $25 million dollars. But these guys are smart so naturally they’ve basically doubled their money by now. Takes place between 7-10 years after the events of the heist.

Frankie is divorced, no reason why explained. No mention of Frankies substance abuse.

Warnings: 18 + minors DNI, age difference, reader is in her 20s, Frankie is in late 40s, smut, oral f receiving (it’s Frankie duh), alcohol, swearing, daddy kink, squirting, basically buckle up kids it's gonna be a bumpy ride

Word Count: 12k +

Long Horn Academy, a private school for the oil tycoons and fortune five hundred owners of Texas to send their kids. It was the dream school for all teachers in the state. Good money, benefits, pension, everything you could ask for. Except of course for the elitist parents and children that treat you more like a servant than an educator. However, it was still better than the public school system that’s for sure. You waited years after teaching college on a supply teacher list in order to finally get your own classroom.

September came around and you were beaming with excitement going over everything you needed for your first year as a grade three teacher at this incredible school. You had gotten to know many of the other teachers at the school during your supply years, so before class started you mulled about the teachers’ lounge with your coffee, talking about everything the year has to bring. Oh, how little you truly knew about how life changing this school year would be.

“I just can’t believe I have my own class and room now! It’s been so exhausting dragging my book bag to every room in the building because I didn’t have a desk of my own.” You beamed to your colleagues, Mrs. Young and Ms. Campbell. Mrs. Young was a seasoned vet in the teaching field, at around mid-fifties, she always sported the most comfortable clothing but still so chic. Ms. Campbell was around your age, she had bright blue hair that caused quite a stir in the school until the principal deemed it a freedom of expression issue and shut the parents down. She wore their displeasure with her as a badge of honor.

Ms. Campbell smiled at you, “Hey girl you deserve it. I had your class a few years ago and they were actually really well behaved, save for this one snot nose kid Randall.” She scrunched her nose up at the memory of him throwing paint at her.

You laughed along, you too had shared a few run in with kids like that.

Mrs. Young interjected, “Oh, you forgot to tell her the best part.” she said to Ms. Campbell, gently swatting her arm and raising her eyebrows, hoping her friend would get the hint of what she was implying.

Ms. Campbells eyes widened, and she grinned at Mrs. Young, you looked between them, trying desperately to figure out this big news.

“You’re right, she’s gonna have Liliana Morales in her class.” Ms. Young stated with excitement.

You looked confused, “Who’s Liliana Morales?” you asked.

“Oh no sweetie, not who’s Liliana Morales, who’s Daddy Morales is the question you should be asking.” She hummed into her coffee, clearly pleased with the situation at hand.

Taken aback you replied, “Okay, who’s Daddy Morales?”

The two women nodded their heads to each other before Mrs. Young responded, “Honey, he’s a rich divorced dad.”

Not at all surprised you nodded, “Okay, that’s like seventy-five percent of the dads at this school, what makes him so special?”

She grinned, “Oh, you’ll see.”

You returned to your classroom ready for the day. Everything had been prepared meticulously in order to make a good first impression with the insanely high standards these parents had. Your room was decorated tastefully with a mix of colour and neutral tones, and you had prepared a tray of lemon bars for the parents to enjoy as they mulled around the room with their children. The parents were allowed to stay for the first period of the first day to get to know the teachers’ style and ask questions, as well as provide any educational information the teacher might need for the children.

Slowly, parents and students started arriving. The majority of them greeted you politely, a few blonde mothers in their Pilates outfits shook your hand with limp wrists, clearly not approving of your attire. They all wore Chanel and Louis Vuitton, labels far out of your budget. There are some teachers at the school that dressed the part, but they were not working with your new hire salary. So, Old Navy was where you got your work clothes.

Smiling politely, you grew more nervous as the crowd in the room became louder. There were so many strange faces you didn’t know how you would get through this first period. You stood near your desk, smoothing out your skirt when a tap on your elbow shifted your attention.

A tall man stood before you, with styled brown hair and a beard with a thick mustache. He wore a light tan blazer, a brown button down and dark jeans. His eyes were bright and brown like a baby cow. You gazed hopelessly into them before registering that he was trying to talk to you.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” You asked, embarrassed.

He smiled, “I’m Francisco Morales, Lilianas father.” He stated, reaching out his hand.

Morales? You thought, oh shit. This must be who the other teachers were referring to. He was so handsome your mouth went dry. You did your best to answer him, “Nice to meet you, I’m Ms. Smith.” You took his hand and shook it, feeling a spark of electricity as your fingers touched. You pulled it back and folded your arms, wondering if the feeling was all in your head or if he felt it too.

He smiled, “It’s mighty nice to meet you too. Liliana is very excited for this year.”

You nodded, “That’s great, I’ve heard good things about you- her, sorry I’ve heard good things about her.” You tucked your hair behind your ear and begged for someone to interrupt.

Unluckily for you, he stayed right at your side without wavering. “How long have you been teaching?” he asked, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans and leaning on his left leg.

“I’ve been a substitute here for five years and this is my first full time role.” You answered, a little more confidently this time you may add.

Mr. Morales nodded politely, “Well I think that’s great, always good to get some fresh young minds in here to teach us old people a thing or two.” he said, adjusting his sleeve length under his blazer and giving you a kind wink.

You nodded, “I’m glad you’re happy, that makes at least one of you.” You said quietly, more to yourself than anyone else, and looked around the room at the parents swiftly critiquing the lesson plan you had posted.

He looked around at the crowd of people and then at you, noticing how uncomfortable you were. “Hey, don’t give any mind to these people. They’re not happy with anything, trust me.” He leaned in and rested his hand on your elbow. You looked at his kind and sympathetic eyes and immediately swooned. He was so handsome it made you sick, and of course he had to be nice as well. What the hell have you gotten yourself into here. No, no, you thought. It’s just a little crush, you’re sure it will pass.

You smiled kindly at his assuring comment, and he retreated to the back of the classroom, following where his daughter had ended up. You slowly moved behind the desk at the front of the classroom and tapped your fingers on it, now was a better time than ever to get this show on the road.

Clapping your hands together, you alerted the attention of the class that you would be starting. You were met with bounds of questions and critiques from the parents, you swallowed your breath so many times with your nerves you thought you might pass out. Save for Mr. Morales, he stood in the middle of the back of the room, leaning against the large window overlooking the soccer fields with a calm resolve on his face. You let your gaze linger on him far too many times, but you couldn’t help it. Each time you did, his kind eyes soaked your heart with contentment and made your knees weak.

Finally, after almost every parent had cited their concerns, you felt yourself slightly dampened. You took a deep breath looking at the clock. “So, we only have another minute left before the period is over and we break for snack so does, anybody, have any other questions or comments?” Your breath broke during the sentence, hoping not to be met with any more judgement or you might cry.

Just as a particularly snarky mother was about to raise her hand, Mr. Morales quickly popped himself off the window and took a few steps forward. “I would just like to say, I am so excited to see what you have to bring to this class this year.” He spoke confidently but kindly, and seemingly only to you. His eyes burned into yours and made your heart flutter. “I cannot think of a better teacher, to take care of our kids.” He finished.

You offered him a thankful grin and nod, “Thank you, Mr. Morales. I’m really happy to be here.” You held your hands together in front of you. Trying not to break your resolve.

The sound of the bell filled the room and you let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. You nodded politely as the parents said their goodbyes and the children rose to get their snacks.

Mr. Morales suddenly appeared at your side, “Thank you for this, you did a great job.” he said, before backing away to the door. Not before sneakily looking you up and down.

Your eyes widened, and your heart skipped a beat. This is going to be trouble.

As the months moved along Mr. Morales’ flirting got more and more obvious. Bringing you coffee and treats in the morning, lingering after pickup to chat with you, that stupid gorgeous smile leaving you desperate for more of his attention. You learned that he and his wife divorced when Liliana was a baby and he shared custody but as the school was on the way to work, he picked her up and dropped her off even if she was his ex’s house. He told you that he owns a construction company and purchased it fairly recently. He was charming and sweet, but not so sweet as you caught him multiple times outright checking you out. You grew more and more embarrassed by your wardrobe, looking at all the amazing clothes the other teachers were wearing. You knew he was older than you, like way older than you, but you didn’t really care. Especially since it was school policy teachers couldn’t date parents, so there was no harm in flirting with a man who was clearly flirting with you.  

One December morning you were in the lunchroom with Mrs. Young and Ms. Campbell, discussing your upcoming Christmas break plans.

Ms. Campbell teased you, “So, what’s it like having Daddy Morales in your class?”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s fine, he’s actually very nice.”

“Oh, I know, he’s a Southern charmer darling.”

Sipping from your coffee cup, you hid your grin as you thought of how Mr. Morales made you feel and how quickly you were developing feelings for him.

The last of the kids were leaving your classroom as the end of the day drew near. Mr. Morales crept into the room and gestured to Liliana that he was going to be speaking to you before they left. You stood still near your desk, casually folding the flyers for the Christmas concert on your desk as you awaited his approach.

He moved beside you and turned with his back to the rest of the room. “Hey darlin, how was your day?” he asked with an energetic smile.

You smiled; his informal greetings may have gone a little far past professionalism, but you didn’t mind one bit. “Good, thank you. How was yours?”

“Oh fine, construction isn’t exactly exciting but it’s a good group of guys, so, you know.” He looked slightly nervous, and you grew cautious of the interaction, he always had such a confident and suave demeanor about him. “I was actually wondering if you would be free on Friday night?” he asked, gauging your response.

Stunned, you stuttered, “Oh, um, I’m sorry Mr. Morales, but teachers aren’t actually allowed to,”

“I understand don’t worry.” He interjected, “I noticed Liliana was having a hard time with English and was wondering if you would be able to do some additional tutoring? I’d pay you, it’s my own fault really. We only speak Spanish at home so.” He looked bashful and your cheeks grew red with embarrassment that you thought for even a second, he would be asking you out.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have assumed. Um, yes, I can definitely help you that.” You nodded softly, hoping you didn’t just ruin everything.

He smiled, “That’s great thank you. Do you mind coming round my place at say 5?”

Nodding you replied, “Yes that works, I’ll get your address from her file.”

“Great, thank you again hermosa.” He said as he backed up and gestured for Liliana to follow him.

You simultaneously couldn’t wait until Friday and couldn’t even fathom the idea of being alone with this man you had so much desire for.

Friday evening came and you plugged his address into your phone. You slid into your mid 2000s Ford Focus and headed out. It was a cash car, and your first purchase once you saved enough money would definitely be to upgrade, but that was a long way away. It still felt awful parking it with its rusted fenders beside the Lincolns and Range Rovers that took up the majority of the parking lot at the school.

The neighborhoods you were driving through suddenly shifted more and more into the luxury market. You couldn’t believe the sizes of some of these houses, how could anybody have this much stuff you thought. You finally pulled into the laneway your phone indicated and were met with a long driveway to a stunning stone house with a balcony on the second level facing the road. Your mouth gapped at the size of the estate and the sight of the hoard of vintage and luxury vehicles along the front of the laneway.

Parking your car over to the side so that he may not see it as you leave, you shrugged your cardigan back on your shoulder that it had fallen off and strutted with your tote bag of learning materials to the front door. You looked around casually, there’s no bell. How could there be no bell? Just a large circular knocker in the middle of the door. You bit your lip and swiftly knocked the handle against the dark brown wood door. It made a louder thud than you thought it would, but you still felt anxious that he wouldn’t have heard anything.

When you were just about to grab the knocker again the door suddenly swings open. Leaving you motionless with your hand raised between the two of you. He was in a black button down with sleeves rolled up and khaki pants. You quickly ripped your hand back to your side, “Hi, Mr. Morales, how are you?”

He looked at you up and down briefly, you were wearing black boots with light wash jeans, a snuggly fit blue tank top and a patterned cardigan over top. “Hey sweetheart, doin’ just fine long time no see huh?”

Blushing, you realized you had literally seen him less than two hours ago. He moved in the door so you could slip by him. When you entered you were greeted with an enormous stone staircase cascading up into the second level with exposed railing. There was a crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the room, illuminating you with a stunning glow. You couldn’t help but turn where you stood, shifting your gaze continuously to the next beautiful part of the room you caught with your eyes.

Finally turning around in a half circle, our gaze was met with Mr. Morales, whose eyes were dug into you, enjoying your childlike wonder.

“Sorry,” you said bashfully. “I’ve just never been in a house like this.”

He held his hands together and took a step towards you, "That's okay. Honestly up until a few years ago I hadn't seen anything like this either. It's a bit much for me but Liliana told me she wanted to live in a castle so I couldn't resist spoiling her." He winked at you and gave a sheepish smile. 

You giggled, "I get that, she's a really wonderful little girl. I've loved having her in my class." 

"Thank you, and for what it's worth we have very much enjoyed having you as her teacher. You might be our favourite." He touched his hand to his chest and spoke so earnestly, it made your gaze drop embarrassingly to his mouth as he talked. 

Thankfully before you had to pry another sentence from your desperately dry mouth, Liliana came bounding into the room with a skip and threw her arms around you. 

Mr. Morales reached out and took her arm, "Whoa girl, let's give Ms. Smith some space. Why don't you show her to the study, and I'll check on dinner. I hope you're okay with staying for dinner. I thought it was the least I could do for stealing you on a Friday evening. I'm sure your boyfriend would've preferred to spend time with you since we hog you all day all week." He looked at you with hopeful eyes. 

You met his gaze, "I would love to stay for dinner, thank you. And no boyfriend so I'm all yours tonight." 

He smiled, and nodded at Liliana when she took your hand to leave the room. You briefly looked back over your shoulder at Mr. Morales before you turned the corner and found he was still standing there with his hands on his hips, watching as you left. 

A knock came to the door of the study and Mr. Morales poked his head in. "Hey ladies, it's dinner time. Liliana, go wash up. Ms. Smith I'll show you to the dining room."

Liliana left to go to the washroom, and you collected your things. Mr. Morales waited patiently waiting in the doorway. You heaved your heavy tote back on your shoulder and started towards him.

“Here, let me take that.” He said, pulling the strap easily off your shoulder. You nodded, thanking him and followed him through the house. Each room is more amazing than the other. He stepped aside to let you walk first into a stunning dining room. The walls were bright white with a high ceiling and pillars reaching up in each corner. The curtains had a white and blue pattern covering what you assume must be an incredible view. Sat in the middle of the room was a stunning ten-foot polished wood table with matching high back chairs wrapped around it. Your mouth gapped once again at the sight.

He gestured around you to a seat on the right side of the head of the table. There were three settings done with beautiful silver wear and plating. Just as you sat, Liliana came back in and sat herself across from you on the left side.

The table had trays of traditional Chilean food, luckily, Latin food happened to be your favourite.

“I hope you don’t mind the food; it can be a bit spicy.” he said, taking his seat beside you and offering a bottle of red wine.

You lifted your glass to hand to him, “No not at all. I actually love spice.” You said as he took the glass from you, pouring the wine in. Your fingers grazed against each other as he handed it back to you and you nearly dropped it.

“Alright Liliana, why don’t you say grace for us?” He said, after pouring himself his drink.

She happily clasped her hands together and squeezed her eyes shut. You followed suit with Mr. Morales.

“God is great, God is good, let us thank him for this food, Amen.” she said excitedly.

“Well said sweetheart, alright everybody dig in.”

The three of you ate, and laughed and drank. Mr. Morales and Liliana recounting dozens of stories, and you telling a few embarrassing vacation stories from your childhood that made Liliana laugh, and Mr. Morales too for that matter. You all had finished your food long ago when Mr. Morales looked at his watch.

“Oh, geeze baby girl. Look at the time, I’d say you should start getting ready for bed.” He said to his daughter, pointing at his watch.

She slumped in her chair, “Oh daddy, please. It’s Friday.” She put on her best puppy dog eyes that made you giggle.

He rolled his eyes at the obvious tactic, “Okay, you have to go to bed, but you can put a movie on to fall asleep to. Alright?”

She beamed, “Deal. Thank you for helping me Ms. Smith.” She said as she rose from her seat.

“Of course, sweetie, it was my pleasure.” You replied, catching Mr. Morales grinning at the interaction.

Liliana left the room and you stood to grab your plate, to which Mr. Morales quickly swatted your hands away. “Oh no no. Don’t even think about it, you’re a guest you will not be cleaning up this mess.”

“But you made this beautiful dinner, it’s the least I can do.” You protested.

He continued his objection, “Please hermosa, it’s really fine. Why don’t you just go out to the living room and I’ll bring a coffee. How do you want it?” He stood close, closer than you thought you would be comfortable with.

Stuttering you replied, “Just milk and sugar please.” And quickly retreated in the direction he had gestured.

Of course, another stunning room full of beautiful paintings and photos on the wall of Mr. Morales and Liliana.

You rounded an emerald green sofa and sat down, admiring the wood coffee table in front of you with a bouquet of roses on it.

Lost in thought you daydreamed about living here, how stunning it would be to wake up every day and stroll down that staircase. You can’t even imagine how glorious his bed must be if the damn couch is this comfortable.

Mr. Morales caught your attention and placed the coffees on the table. He sat beside you, almost right beside you. You felt your heart skip a beat but reached for the coffee to give your shaking hands something to do.

“These flowers are beautiful, roses are my favourite.” You pointed casually to the flowers.

He looked at you with his cup in his hand. “Thanks, I like them too. They really brighten up a room. So, do you like teaching at Long Horn?”

Nodding, “Yeah, it’s really great. It can be a bit overwhelming, but I do like it.”

His eyebrows knotted together, and an adorable crease split his forehead. “Overwhelming how?”

“Well, it’s just that, most of the teachers there and pretty much all of the parents are in a certain class that I’m not really in so it can be a bit, I don’t know. A bit embarrassing showing up in my car and my clothes and my shoes and well, just not really dressing the part of a teacher at such a prestigious school.” You tucked your hair behind your ear, slightly embarrassed by your honesty.

He scoffed, “Do you think their clothes make them a better teacher than you?”

Shaking your head you replied, “No of course not, it’s more of a status thing, I guess. It’s probably pretty juvenile to feel this way.”

Mr. Morales took a sip from his cup, never taking his eyes off you, “Well, would you feel more confident if you dressed the way they do?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, “I guess so, yeah. I think I would feel like I fit in more and maybe would get treated better by some of the parents. But I guess this will have to do for now.” You waved away your thoughts, “I’m saving for a new car right now so I shouldn’t worry about all that.”

He hummed, looking away briefly, deep in thought.

You asked him about his work, he got a bit vague but still answered your questions intently. The conversation flowed nicely, and you enjoyed talking to him. You almost forgot how much older he was because he still had such a youthful humor about himself. He talked about his friends Santiago, Will and Benny. It felt so comfortable, but also bizarre as you were sitting having this lovely conversation in a multi-million-dollar home. You simultaneously felt out of place and right where you needed to be.

Your coffees had been finished and you looked at your phone, “I should probably get going Mr. Morales. Thank you for the dinner and coffee.” You rose from your seat.

He stood with you, “Of course, least I could do for Lilianas favourite teacher. Thank you again for tutoring her.”

You both walked slowly to the front entrance, the electricity between you could power the whole damn house. You picked up the tote bag he had rested against the wall beside the door and turned to him. “Thanks again, have a great rest of your night.”

“You as well.” he replied, rubbing his hands on his jeans. He suddenly realized his place and reached for the door, pulling it open for you. You nodded and left through it. The walk to your car felt odd, the temperature had dropped slightly so you hugged yourself a bit. Fumbling with your keys, you finally get the door open and toss the tote into the passenger seat. Looking in the rear-view mirror as you drove down the long laneway, you notice the front door is still open and his broad silhouette is stood there watching as you leave.

Sunday morning rolled around, and you had no plans, other than to totally veg out in your pjs and watch movies all day. Your hair was in a messy bun, and you had your trusty bunny slippers on. Your apartment was small, but plenty for you. Although you have to admit, it felt a lot smaller when you returned from Mr. Morales’ house on Friday. You were settled in to continue your marathon of the Alien movies when a knock came at the door. You sat up puzzled, you just placed the order for your Popeyes chicken lunch and there’s no way it’s already here. Shrugging your sweater up from where it had fallen off your shoulder you sauntered over to the door and opened it.

You were met with a woman, with brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail, a knee length pencil skirt, black heels and a stunning blue silk blouse.

“Ms. Smith?” she asked.

Stunned you replied, “Uh- yes?”

“Great, I have a delivery for you.” She said as she suddenly pulled a luggage cart into view that was covered in clothing bags, shoe boxes and small packages.

You huffed in confusion as she pushed past you with the cart.

“Um- I didn’t order anything?” You followed her as she made herself comfortable in your living room.

“Size?” she asked.

Even more confused, you replied, “What?”

“Shoes, shoe size.” She said, gesturing to the boxes on the bottom of the cart.

You looked at her with more annoyance than confusion now but gave her your size.

She pulled about the boxes, putting three of them onto your kitchen table.

“I’m sorry can I ask what this is all about because I am just totally confused.” You waved your hands in the air as you conceded the situation.

Tossing her ponytail behind her shoulder as she ran her hands through the hangers. “These are from Mr. Morales.”

Your mouth gapped, what does she mean these are from Mr. Morales? Did he give you all these? How is this even happening right now?

Before you could speak again, she interjected, “Okay, I am just going to get your measurements, please stand here with your arms out.”

You were at a loss for words, so instead you did as you were told and allowed her to measure your body for sizing. She thanked you and started mulling about the hangers.

You walked towards the table cautiously, looking at the shoe boxes, they all had the same name on them, Christian Louboutin. Your hand slowly opened one of them and pushed the tissue paper aside, revealing a stunning pair of black, red bottom heels. Mouthwatering you ran your finger along the side of them and couldn’t believe your eyes.

The woman pulled a series of clothing bags off the bar and hung them over the edge of your thrift store couch.

“Oh, one more thing.” She said, reaching into a package on the front of the cart. She pulled out a long thin cardboard box and opened it as you wrang your hands together in nervousness. She slid a brown box the same dimensions as the cardboard with gold detailing on it and handed it to you. Your eyes widened as you recognized the iconic Louis Vuitton logo adorned all over it.

“Have a good day.” She stated as she pushed the rolling cart out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

You waved your hand causally before returning your attention to the box. Sheepishly, you popped it open, and your eyes went wide at the five gold and diamond matching bracelet set. It shone in the light and your breath all but stopped completely. You looked around at the shoe boxes and bags of what you can only assume are more designer clothes. Your head spun so hard you had to brace yourself on the kitchen table. This could not be happening; this could not be real. Why on earth would this man give you all this insanely expensive stuff? You put the jewelry box down and straightened yourself up, promising yourself you wouldn’t touch anything until you spoke to Mr. Morales.

The clock ticked on the wall of your classroom Monday morning, you grew more and more anxious to see Mr. Morales. Tapping your fingers on the desk you stared at the door. Finally, Liliana came bouncing in with Mr. Morales on her heels. You swiftly strutted over to him and stood with your stance firm.

He caught the look on your face, and he grew nervous, “Hi, Ms. Smith. How was your weekend?” He glanced at your outfit; eyebrows furrowed at the fact that you were wearing the same navy dress with a stitch missing around the collar that you were wearing last week.

You pulled your lips tight at how casual he was being, “Fine, thank you. Do you mind if I speak to you in the hall?” You pointed out the door, to which he nodded and followed closely behind you.

There weren’t many people in the hall yet as he was always one of the earliest drop-offs, but you lowered your voice, nonetheless. “I had a delivery yesterday.” You stated.

He nodded, “Great, did you like everything?” He did his best to smile, considering your face did not match his.

“Mr. Morales,” You pinched your nose, “I cannot accept a bribe and you shouldn’t feel like you need to I mean Liliana did great on Friday night I think she’s really getting it and,”

He cut you off, “Whoa now, that wasn’t a bribe.” He chuckled.

You looked to him with confusion, “It wasn’t?”

“No.”

“Then, what was it?” you asked, leaning against the lockers beside you and crossing your arms.

He looked down at you, “An investment.”

Your eyebrows popped up, “An investment?” You questioned.

“Yes, you told me you would feel more confident if you dressed the part of a teacher at this school. I want the absolute best for my daughter so I thought if I invested in you then you would be able to be the best teacher you could be.” He tucked his hands in his leather jacket. That damn jacket you thought. It fit him so well and looked so good with his distressed jeans. He must not be going into the office today you thought.

Taking a deep breath through your nose you replied, “I really don’t think I can accept all that Mr. Morales. All that stuff costs more than like, three of my car.” You laughed to yourself at the situation you had found yourself in.

He took a step in, looking around for any other people in the hallway. “Let yourself be taken care of, for once in your life hermosa.” Your mouth fell open at the intense smell of his musky cologne you could now smell with him so close to you. Before you could retaliate, he turned and strutted down the hall.

You watched as he left, still too stunned to speak.

The rest of the week you strutted around the school in your new clothes. The snobby moms that typically gave you a side eye gave you a confident smile and complimented your lesson plan for the next week. You felt amazing gliding down the hallway in your red bottom heels, the gold bracelets dangling from your wrists.

Ms. Campbell nearly choked on her coffee one morning as you glided in wearing a form fitting purple work dress and black heeled ankle boots with black tights and tight blazer snug on your shoulders.

“Geeze what’s with this get up?” she asked, looking you up and down.

Shrugging you replied, “Oh just got some new clothes. I’ve been saving for a while and thought I would treat myself since I’m not travelling for Christmas this year.” A blatant lie you thought, but it was for the best. No one could know everything was from Mr. Morales. There’s no way the principal would accept his “investment” story and you’d be done for.

“So, is your class ready for the Christmas concert?” You asked, trying desperately to change the subject.

She peered at you suspiciously, “Yeah. Yeah, I think it will be good. Will Daddy Morales be gracing us with his presence?”

You nodded casually, “I believe so.”

Another teacher, Mrs. Rodriguez, came in to grab water from the fridge. She was nice enough, but you didn’t cross paths with her much. “What are we talking about ladies?” She smiled kindly.

Ms. Campbell leaned back in her chair to look at Mrs. Rodriguez, “Daddy Morales.”

You scoffed at your friend and gave her a wide look.

Mrs. Rodriguez hummed, “Mmm, Daddy Morales. He’s with your class now, isn’t he?” she asked, pointing at you.

Nodding you replied, “Yes, I have his daughter Liliana this year.”

“Lucky girl.” She commented before leaving the room.

Embarrassment grew in your chest as you worried anybody had picked up on your crush.

Friday evening came, the last day before Christmas break and the day of the concert. You had spent every waking minute preparing for it and were eager to show off your class. Everything was going off without a hitch as you stood at the side watching your class. Liliana had a little solo which she absolutely killed. You nervously peered out into the crowd to gauge the parents’ reactions. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves and smiling along with the music. Your gaze suddenly caught Mr. Morales sitting on the edge of an aisle near the front, looking more handsome than ever. His hair and beard are still styled perfectly, wearing a navy knit sweater and khakis. Your eyebrows perked up as you noticed a bulge in his pants with the way he was sitting, widespread so he could rest his left leg in the aisle. All of a sudden, the music stopped, and your class was taking their bow. You shook your head straight and clapped along with the crowd.

The show finally came to a close and you stood in the hallway, saying your goodbyes to the students and parents. A hand tapped your elbow and you turned to meet eyes with Mr. Morales. He looked you up and down, seemingly pleased in the red silk blouse, black pencil skirt and heels you had put together from the selection he gave you.

“Hey darlin, that was a great show.” he said nervously.

You grinned at him, “Thank you, Liliana really stole the show. Where is she?” You asked as you scanned his sides to see his daughter was nowhere to be seen.

“She’s left with my mom; she promised her she’d take her out for ice cream after the show. No boys allowed is what I was greeted with when I asked to join.” He laughed, waving his hands slightly with his story. You giggled along.

He suddenly looked even more nervous than when you had challenged him about the gifts, “It’s kind of noisy over here do you mind if we go for a quick walk?” Pointing in the direction of the classrooms.

Unsure, but entranced, you followed. You couldn’t even feel your feet moving, they just seemed to know where to go.

You walked slowly together, not speaking until you had finally rounded the corner.

Desperate to break the silence that was held together by the utter sexual tension you were trying your best to ignore, you asked, “Is everything okay, Mr. Morales?”

He rubbed his chin with his palm and tried to look at you, “Yes, sweetheart everything, everything’s fine. I just, wanted to tell you that I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you and uh, listening to Liliana talk about you every night.”

Your chest grew red, “That’s great, I really like talking to you too Mr. Morales.”

He waved his hand causally, “Please, you don’t need to call me Mr. Morales. That makes me feel old.” He laughed nervously.

“Oh, yeah that’s fine. Francisco, right?” You asked, still trying to keep up with him as he seemed to have a destination in mind considering the pace he had set.

“Uh- yeah, yeah that’s fine.” He smiled and you nodded.

He finally came to a stop in front of your classroom, you were so entranced you hadn’t noticed this is where he was leading you. He shifted towards the door and turned the handle. You were somewhat confused as your door was locked when you left that day. Hesitantly, you walked past him into your room.

Your mouth fell open as you looked at your desk, it had a large bouquet of roses on it and sitting in front of the roses was a shiny white cushion Chanel purse.

You stopped in your tracks, “Mr. – uh, Francisco what the hell is all this?”

He closed the door behind him and took a few steps over to you, “Just a Christmas gift.”

You spun in your spot, “A Christmas gift? Really you are just too much.” You protested, part of you completely flattered and a part of you concerned.

He stepped closer still, until your bodies were just inches away from each other. Your breath was labored, and you couldn’t see straight. It wasn’t until he pointed up at the ceiling that you finally were able to focus your eyes.

A mistletoe. There was a mistletoe hanging perfectly from the ceiling above you. Your gaze dropped back to his face. He was looking intently at you, scanning every piece of you. His eyes dropped to your mouth, and you felt yourself lean in. He quickly closed the gap and met your lips with his.

His hands found themselves on your waist as you cautiously rested yours on his arms. The kiss was deep but soft, it held emotions from months and months ago and released a pain you didn’t know you were carrying.

You finally pulled yourself back, remembering the consequences of your actions. “I really, shouldn’t be doing this.” You whispered to him.

He looked down at you softly, “Why not? I know you’ve been feeling the way I’ve been feeling all this time. Why not let yourself embrace it?”

Your chest flushed and you released yourself from his grip, “Because, I would lose my job if anyone found out about, about- all of this. The gifts, the kiss. I am not supposed to be doing anything like this with a parent.” You sounded flustered now, your head spinning for all new reasons.

“What if you didn’t need your job?” He asked, trying to follow you in your steps.

You looked at him puzzled, “What do you mean what if I didn’t need my job? Of course I need my job, and I can’t find anything that will pay more in the state.”

His voice turned deeper and his eyes darkened, “What if you didn’t need your job because I would take care of you.”

Taken aback, you can barely stutter out, “What?”

He steps further into you, “What if, we gave this a real shot, and I took care of you. Because I can. Because I want to. You don’t need to move in with me or anything, but I would pay for your apartment until we got to that point. I like you hermosa. I care about you, and I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. I know I’m older than you, but I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life, spoiling you and giving you the life you deserve.”

All you could hear once he stopped speaking was your heartbeat, it was pounding in your chest. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was asking you to quit your job to date him and let him shower you with gifts and love. A beautiful could be stepdaughter that you’ve grown to care so much for. It all seemed too good to be true.

He held your shoulders in his big, strong hands. “One day. Give me one day to show you what your life could be like with me. And if you hate me at the end of it, you’ll never hear a damn word out of me. But just give me one day. Please.”

Something broke inside you, your resolve was gone. You wanted nothing more than to throw your shaking body into his arms and kiss him feverishly. Right now, though, all you could muster was a quiet okay.

He nodded, “Liliana is at her moms on Christmas day, and I know you aren’t going to see any family. So please, spend the day with me and I promise I’ll make it one you’ll never forget.”

“Okay, let’s do it.” You said, trying to be confident.

He beamed, reaching around you to grab the flowers and bag as you shuffled slowly towards the door.

You looked back at him, “How did you do all this anyway?” pointing up at the mistletoe.

He chuckled, “Had to give the custodian a hundred bucks.” He said with a wink.

Christmas day.

This used to be your favourite holiday growing up. You were always surrounded by family and food. The gifts were sparce, due to your dad being on disability from an injury and your mom doing her best to keep everything together. But that never bothered you, until you would see your friends at school, and they would talk about the heaps of toys they received from Santa. Still, you had a wonderful family and that filled your heart as much as it could. You normally go visit your parents for Christmas back home in Florida, but you had saved for the last 6 years to get them a cruise and Christmas was the only time your mom could get off work. You were all prepared to spend the day in your pjs, watching movies and making cookies. Your plans were abruptly changed though, by the man who had all but begged you to go on a luxurious date with him. You figured your circumstances can’t be so bad.

You looked around your apartment, thinking about what this day could bring. If all goes well, you’d be quitting your job after the semester is done in a month and letting yourself fall into a serious relationship. All your time will be spent figuring out if you love this man. Could you? Do you? It was all so confusing, but thankfully he shouldn’t be around for a few more hours so now you just needed to finish your bowl of mac and cheese you reheated for lunch and figure out what to wear.

The bowl had just hit the sink when a knock came at your door. You looked at the clock on the microwave puzzled, once again why was someone here, you thought. Last time you had an unexpected guest, she came with a hoard of gifts, so you weren’t totally nervous this time around.

Your door swung open, and you gasped when you saw Francisco on the other side. He was fully dressed in black dress shoes, black pants with a matching blazer and a deep green button down. You swiftly looked down at yourself; a mismatched pajama set and your damn slippers.

“Hi.” You sputtered out.

He smiled, “Hey hermosa,” he stepped in and kissed your cheek before walking into your apartment.

Closing the door behind you, you ask “Isn’t our date not until later?”

He nodded, “Yes, but you still needed to get ready for the date, right?”

“Right.” You shrugged, looking down at your clothes.

“Right, so let’s go. Grab your new purse and your phone. You shouldn’t need anything else. I’m just going to use your washroom really quick, and we’ll go.” he nodded towards the other side of your apartment.

He disappeared into the hallway that led to your bedroom and bathroom, and you looked around stunned. Okay, you thought, let’s just go with the flow. You’re sure he has a plan for all this. You kicked off your slippers and slid on some boots, stuffing your phone into your purse.

He returned, adjusting his jacket, and smiles at you. “You look beautiful by the way.” He gives you a gentle kiss before grabbing the door.

You scoff at his probable joke, but follow him, nonetheless.

When you get downstairs, you’re met with a vintage Ford Mustang sitting in front of your apartment building. He stepped forward and opened the door for you before taking your hand and helping you ease down into the car.

He joined you inside and fired up the engine, pulling onto the not so busy street considering it was Christmas.

“Where are we going anyway? I’m hardly dressed for whatever occasion you have planned.”

He glances over at you with a knowing smirk, “You know I can’t tell you that sweetheart. Don’t want to ruin the surprises. And actually, you look perfect for where we are going.”

The car finally came to a halt in front of a luxury salon that you’ve only dreamed of going to.

You gasped, “What are we doing here?”

“You’ll see.” He winks as he gets out of the car and rounds the front of it to open your door. He then leads you hand in hand to the entrance.

“I don’t think they’re open it’s Christmas.” You said nervously.

He chuckled, “Don’t worry, I made special arrangements.”

He flung the unlocked door open and gestured to you inside. You were met with a beautiful salon that had antique mirrors and beautiful light pink chairs. A woman with black hair and all black outfit was sitting at the desk and greeted you with a kind smile.

“Merry Christmas Maria, how are you? You know I owe you for this one, right?” Francisco asked, leaning on the desk.

She smiled up to him, “I’m good, and yes yes you do. Ms. if you’d like to follow me, we’ll get started.”

Your eyes widen at Francisco, but he nods to assure you it’s okay.

A few minutes later you emerge from the back in a silk pink robe and the softest slippers you’ve ever felt in your life. He was waiting patiently in one of the salon chairs. You then spent the next few hours getting your nails painted, your makeup and hair done. All the while, sipping champagne, eating chocolate covered strawberries and chatting with Francisco. He didn’t leave your side even once. Constantly complimenting you and grabbing your hand to pepper kisses on it whenever Maria wasn’t looking. He made you laugh so hard your chest hurt and you got a brief scolding from her to keep still, which earned you a juvenile look from Francisco.

“Alright, I think you’re ready to get dressed. What do you think Mr. Morales?” she looked to him after finishing up your hair.

“She’s breathtaking.” he said under his breath but still loud enough for you both to hear.

You blushed and rose from the chair to follow Maria to a back area where there was a curtained changing room with a large mirror in it. The curtains swung closed behind you before you could notice the hangers on the wall. There was a long black evening dress, a pair of black heels and a woven trench coat. You stepped forward to admire the dress, it was strapless and had a slit down the left front of it. It was simple and elegant. You looked down at the bench where the shoes were and noticed a black box. Popping the top off it, your eyes widened when you were met with a strapless lace black bra and panties set. Your eyebrows popped up, realizing your date might not be as wholesome as you thought he was. He was a man after all. You held the bra in your hand loosely, and it created an ache in your core. Your mind drifted off to the thought of wearing this in front of him and he rubbing his hands all over you. Worshipping your body as you know he’d do. You finally snapped yourself out of it and got changed.

You took last look of yourself in the mirror and stuffed your clothes and shoes into the bag Maria had left for you. Grabbing the coat off the hanger you tip toed out of the curtains. When you emerged from the back Francisco was standing in the room still, he turned swiftly when he heard the sound of your heels on the hardwood floors.

He clapped his hand over his heart as you approached, and you smiled. “Be still my beating heart, you look amazing.” He grabbed your hand and spun you around before snapping you close to his chest.

You beamed up at him and offered a soft kiss, which he graciously accepted.  “Where to now Romeo?”

“Tsk tsk, always trying to ruin the surprises. Also, you have one more thing for this outfit.”

You looked at him puzzled as he opened his suit jacket and pulled out the Louis Vuitton bracelet box from the inside pocket. Your eyes widened with his sneakiness. “Where did you get that?”

“Swiped it from your dresser when I said I was in the bathroom.” He chuckled, before helping you clasp each bracelet on your wrists.

You both said your thanks to Maria and returned to his car.

The city swiftly disappeared, and you became very much aware of your whereabouts; you were headed to the airport.

Your stunned face must’ve stayed on you the entire time. Peppering Francisco with continuous, what’s and how’s. Until finally you found yourself walking on the tarmac towards a private helicopter, owned by him of course.

He got you up and settled into the passenger seat when you suddenly looked confused. “Wait where are you gonna sit?”

He winked at you, “Don’t worry I’m right here with you sweetheart.” As he climbed into the pilot’s seat. You watched in awe as he got his headset on and got the helicopter ready for flight. He signaled to the tower that he was ready to go and steadily pulled off the ground. You grabbed his thigh with your hand as you tried to calm your nerves.

The two of you toured around the city, the sun was slowly setting as you made your way into the countryside. He pointed out a golf course in the distance and you noticed a helicopter pad near the greens. He set the helicopter down effortlessly and got you both set to get out. He hopped out the door and reached up to take you by the waist to carry you down to the ground.

You walked hand in hand towards the building where a man was waiting, he gestured you both to follow inside. Once inside, you were taken to a stunning ballroom. It had high ceilings with chandeliers situated in multiple spots. Every surface was adorned with Christmas lights and tall ten-foot decorated trees stood in each corner of the room. There was a single table with roses by the far wall with a fireplace. Simple orchestrated music sounded through the speakers and Fransisco pulled your chair out for you as you sat down.

“I honestly can’t believe you’ve done all this; it feels like a fairytale.” You gushed as he poured you a glass of wine.

He smiled at you, “Well hermosa, I just wanted to take today to treat you how you have always deserved to be treated. I didn’t come from money and I know you didn’t either. But one thing I’ve learned is that if you can spoil someone, you should. If you can use physical things to show someone how much you care about them, then you can. It doesn’t need to be this materialistic thing, and I knew from the beginning that, that none of this would matter if you didn’t have feelings for me too.”

You nodded intently with him, “I do, I really do have feelings for you Francisco. I- I don’t know what it is but I’m just so attracted to you in every way I know that I’m supposed to be.”

Smiles radiating off of each other, a waiter approached with a silver plate with a matching covering on top.

“For the lady.” He said, pulling back the top, to reveal a Tiffany jewelry box.

You gasped and looked at Francisco who was beaming at you. The waiter took the box and handed it to Francisco before leaving.

“I know, I know. I’m too much, you’re gonna say.” You smiled at him, holding your hands to your chest. “But I think too much is better than not enough so, I got you one more thing tonight to truly complete the beautiful look you you’ve got going on right now.” He popped the box open and pulled out a gold and diamond necklace.

Your face dropped as he rose from his seat. You held your hair up as he reached around your body, clicking it in place and letting it fall comfortably on your chest. You set your hair down and ran your hands along the jewelry.

“Thank you, this really is amazing. I wish I could do something to repay all your generosity.”

“Your smile is payment enough hermosa.”

Your heart warmed and you reached your hand across the table to take his. He pulled it up and pressed a firm kiss to your knuckles.

The waiter returned with the beautiful Christmas dinner. Fit with roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, veggies, and you ate and laughed together. Everything was delicious you and thought about how this could be your life every day. You could sip wine and eat amazing food with a deliriously sweet man and his beautiful daughter.

Your plates have been cleared and you took a deep breath, looking at him earnestly.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked.

You huffed, “I just, I like you I do. I really do. But I feel like I need to know more about what the future would hold if we were to take this step.”

He nodded, “Do you have any questions in mind?”

Leaning on the table you tapped your fingers to your chin, running through all the possibilities the next 30 years could hold should you end up together. “Do you want any more kids?” You ask.

“No, I think I’m past that. Do you?” he asked, slightly nervous.

You shook your head, “No, I like kids, I mean I have to for my job. But I don’t really need any of my own. But I love Liliana, don’t think I wouldn’t be so so happy to be a part of her life.”

He smiled and nodded.

“When do you think you are going to retire?” You asked, sipping from your wine.

“Well, I can technically do that anytime, but probably in less than 10 years. I do enjoy getting out and having a routine still.” He stretched into his seat as he could tell this could take a while.

You bounced questions back and forth to one another for a while, and continued to be surprised by how well your lives could actually line up with one another. There was just one thing that you couldn’t get off your mind.

“Okay, last question because I think it’s gonna be a doozy.” He nodded, leaning his elbows on the table so he could listen more intently to you. “You never told me what you did before you had this company, or really any stories from before that or before Liliana was born. Why is that?” Your voice grew quieter with each word, fearful of what he may say.

His head dipped slightly, and he rubbed his chin with his hand. Your breath caught in your throat as you awaited his response.

“So, I grew up here in Texas, didn’t have a lot of money so the only real career prospects I had was in the military. I enlisted right out of high school. Spent the next, 15 years I guess as a pilot for special forces. Got out, circumstances changed, had to get back in and then the money I received as payment for a final job allowed me to buy that company. It allowed me to set myself, and my daughter, up for a good life. I didn’t do the best things to get that money, but it has been worth it, so far at least.” His eyes looked sad, he was suddenly nothing like the suave and confident man that had strutted into your classroom all those months ago.

He looked at you like you may completely disappear on him; he reached his hand out, “Sweetheart, talk to me. Please.”

You looked at his hand, taking in everything he just told you. He was such a kind man and had treated you so well in every way possible. He clearly had some broken pieces of himself still inside, but who’s to say you’re not the one to mend those pieces.

Just as he was about to give up hope and pull his hand back, you leapt from your seat and rushed to his side. He quickly followed your lead and stood up to you. Your eyes met his with an intense heat, you looked down at his lips and lunged yourself forward into him. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you flung yours around his neck. His tongue pecked at your lips, and you gladly opened them to allow yourselves to deepen and lick your tongues against each other’s. He pulled his mouth free and rested his forehead against yours.

“Are we doin’ this sweetheart?” he asks, breathing deeply.

You swallowed hard, and then nodded your head against his.

The biggest smile you’d ever seen grew on his face and he latched himself back onto you with a passionate moan.

 He took you back to his place and you ended up in the living room, still dressed to the nines with champagne and chocolate cake. He had undone the top buttons of his dress shirt, exposing his chest. You drank your champagne and stared at his skin, trying desperately not to reach out and touch it. At this point, you’d had not just a little bit, but a lot a bit of champagne and were really feeling it in your core. Even as he sat before you, explaining what he does on an average day in the office or on a site, you nodded as if you were paying attention, but not a single word was entering your ears as you noticed again how broad his shoulders were.

“So, my head contractor Mike, he,”

“You look comfortable.” You blurted out, taking him by surprise. He looked at you confused, you pointed lazily to his chest, to which he looked down and huffed out a laugh.

“Oh, yeah. Hope you don’t mind.” He said with a wink, noticing how your eyes stayed still on his exposed skin. “Are you comfortable or would you like me to find you something to wear?”

You popped your eyebrows up at his question, “Yeah, fuck. That would be great I’d love to get out of this thing.” You downed the rest of your champagne and stood up from the couch.

He followed your lead and grabbed your hand. You went up behind him on the staircase in the entry way to the bedrooms.

The hallway had doors on doors on doors. You followed him to the one at the very end of the hallway and gasped as he swung it open. The bed was definitely a California King and had a fluffy cream comforter on it with a few pillows scattered on top. The walls had paintings of planes and helicopters, a little out of place from the rest of the house, but more his style. You nearly tripped when you ran to the right side of the room and poked your head into the huge closet. It was only half full of his suits and dress shirts, some jeans stacked neatly on top of the dresser.

“Holy shit, I wanna live in this closet.” You exclaimed.

He laughed, “Well, there’s plenty of room still in there for ya.”

You looked back at him, remembering why you wanted to come up here in the first place. It was not to figure out how to organize your shoes in the closet that’s for sure.

Swaying your hips you returned to him standing near the bed. “Can you get my zipper for me?”

He swallowed deeply, looking you up and down. “I think I can manage.”

With a shit eating grin on your face, you turned and moved your hair off your back, collecting it in your hands.

You felt his warm hands touch the top of your back and you shivered at the feeling. Then, your zipper could be felt slowly making its way down until it hit the bottom, just above your ass.

You turned coyly, keeping the dress up by holding it to your breasts. He stood looking down at you, eyes darkening, waiting. You slowly pulled your hands free from the material and helped it shrug down your body, finally stepping out of it.

He took a step back, admiring your body in the lingerie that had been set out for you. “Damn it hermosa, you’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t you?”

You snickered, reaching out, you grabbed his suit jacket and pulled him back to you, peeling the jacket off his shoulders. He threw it to the side and tugged at his shirt, pulling it out of his pants. You popped your eyebrows up and leaned in for a kiss. You made quick work unbuttoning his shirt as your tongue swept around his mouth. Undoing the last button, he pulled it off his shoulder and past his wrists. You ran your hands down his bare chest and started nipping at his jaw. He smiled into you, caressing your body with his hands before swiftly pulling you up into his arms. You giggled and wrapped your legs around his waist, leaning down to plant a kiss on his open mouth. He turned towards the bed and threw you down onto it. You landed with a laugh and winked at him, making a come here signal with your finger.

He smirked and climbed onto the bed on top of you, slotting one of his thighs between your legs. Desperately lapping each other up you could’ve kissed for hours, but he had better plans for you.

Kissing your neck slowly he moved down your body to your breasts, pulling at the fabric of the bra and allowing one of them to fall out. He grunted lowly before latching on. Biting and swirling your nipple in his mouth, you moaned loudly, and he slid a hand under your back, pulling you up so your aching core was rubbing against his thigh. Your nipple popped out of his mouth, and he looked at you with hungry eyes. You leaned forward to slip your hands under your back and unclasp the bra, throwing it who knows where.

His mouth continued down until it reached the top of your panties grabbing them ferociously with his teeth. His hands took them swiftly and yanked the material down your legs. He stood above you, basking in your bare body and dripping core.

“Fuck me.” Francisco hummed to himself.

“Yeah, that’s the plan.” You replied, giving him a smirk.

Biting his lip he looked down at your pussy, and fell to his stomach to line his mouth up with your entrance. You let out a desperate moan as he slipped his tongue between your folds and licked up into your clit. His technique was incredible, completely undoing you in minutes. Sucking and licking with precision. You were so wet that sounds coming off his tongue were intoxicating.

“Just like that baby, fuck- yes don’t stop, Franc-,” you moaned, hands reaching back to grab the pillow behind you.

With a few more swipes from his tongue and a nudge at your clit from his nose you fell undone under him. Your moan shocked even you and his face never wavered as he let you ride it out on his tongue.

You finally felt your head stop spinning, thinking he would be done when you felt him double down. Your back arched as his two fingers slid inside your dripping pussy. He curled his one finger inside, flicking it out onto your clit while he kissed your thigh. You grabbed the chocolate curls on his head and whined. You didn’t think it could get any better when all of sudden both of hands came to your core and with a finger hooked in you on either side, pulled your sore pussy open to allow his tongue entrance. You felt his warm tongue in parts of you that you never knew one could reach and instantly cried out as your next orgasm not only flowed through you, but all over his face. You squirted on his tongue and beard as he still let you ride out your high.

Coming to a still, you tried to regulate your breathing. He pulled himself up from you and wiped his mouth with his hand, smirking at you. You rose as quickly as your trembling legs would let you onto your knees and licked into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. Grabbing his belt, you undid it and pulled it free before unbuttoning his pants and motioning for him to take them off.

Francisco backed off the bed and pulled his pants, boxers and socks off before returning to you. Your eyes widened not only at the length but the girth he had. He was the biggest you had ever seen in person. You took his length in your hand and offered a few casual strokes, earning a groan from him. In one fell swoop he grabbed your thighs and threw you back on the bed, head hitting the pillows behind you. He laid down between your open thighs and rubbed them.

“Do you have any condoms?” You asked.

“Well, I actually got a vasectomy a few years back and I’m clean so unless,” he replied, gauging your response.

You nodded, “Yeah I’m clean too.”

He smiled and leaned down, pecking your lips with a feverish kiss.

Grabbing his length, he lines up with your entrance before slowly pushing into you. You grab his shoulders to sturdy yourself as the stretch overtakes you. It both burns and feels amazing at the same time. He pushes the rest of himself into your aching pussy and looks at you with heat filled eyes.

“Fuck, you’re so tight hermosa. Feels s’fucking good.”

You nod as he starts moving his hips into yours. You grunt as he picks up the pace, rocking deep into you. “Ugh b-baby.”

He huffs, “Is that really what you wanna call me?”

You looked at him puzzled.

Smiling he says, “You, know. I know that nick name the teachers gave me.” Your eyebrows popped up, “Daddy Morales? You ever called me that?”

Smirking, you shake your head, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sensations building inside you.

“Maybe I want you to call me that, huh?”

“Want me to call you daddy?” you ask with a devilish grin.

He looks down at your body beneath him as he rocks deep into you. “Yeah, I do, I really do.”

You reach your body up and whisper in his ear, “Make me want to.” Nipping his ear with your teeth you laid your body back down and rolled your hands on his chest.

He let out a deep growl and pulled out of you. He flipped you over onto your stomach and slotted your legs together, situating himself with his thighs on either side of you. His hands slid beneath your hips and tugged them up, so your ass was slanted, exposing your already puffy pussy from between your legs. He slid back inside you and squeezed your ass.

The force he had from behind was insatiable, pounding insensately into you. The bracelets and necklace that you still wore banged against your skin with the movement. You felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten again as the over stimulation washed over you. He slapped your ass sharply and you let out a moan. A few more deep plunges and you were launched into your third orgasm.

You grabbed the sheets beneath you and screamed, “Oh fuck daddy yes! Ugh, daddy fuck me!”

He grunted and spilled himself inside you, swelling to an unimaginably bigger size, causing your orgasm to linger and spin your head until you both fell exhausted.

Panting on your shoulder, he let out a huffed laugh, “Fuck, that was so fucking hot.”

He pulled himself out of you and you whimpered at the emptiness you suddenly felt. You did your best to catch your breath and slink out of the bed, grabbing the tossed aside panties and retreating to the ensuite on the opposite side of the room from then the closet.

When you returned, Francisco was lying in bed with his bare chest still out, resting his arm over his eyes. You smiled and jumped onto the bed before sliding under the covers and resting your head on him.

He hummed, “That was really something sweetheart. I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of that.”

Giggling to yourself, you replied, “Yeah, I think you’re pretty much stuck with me now. I don’t think I can find head like that anywhere else.”

He grinned and squeezed your shoulder with his hand, still smelling slightly like you.

“Alright, let’s get some shut eye. I’m a lot older than you and it is way past my bedtime.”

You swatted at him playfully but leaned into him to rest your eyes.

“Merry Christmas sweetheart.” He said, planting a loving kiss to your head.

“Merry Christmas daddy.”

February came and you had officially left your job. A part of you was sad, but that didn’t last long as you spent more and more time with Francisco and Liliana over the last month and grew even closer to them. In celebration of your relationship being official, he rented a box at the Dallas Stars hockey game the first Saturday after your exit from Long Horn Academy.

You were waiting patiently in your apartment for him to arrive when you felt a buzz in your pocket and his name light up with a “here” text. You were wearing leggings, Converse, a simple hoodie and you threw a denim jacket over top as you left. Your Chanel purse draped over your shoulder of course.

Your eyes were met with a blinding light as you stepped into the parking lot of your apartment building. You looked around confused, as you didn’t see his Mustang anywhere. You were about to reach into your hoodie pocket for your phone when you heard a honk and glanced up. There was a passenger side window rolled down of a cherry red Range Rover over to your right, with a certain someone waiving you over.

Leaning into the window you asked, “Who’s is this?

“It’s yours hermosa.” he said confidently.

Your eyes widened, “What?”

“Get in.” He nodded to you.

Your mouth fell open as you climbed in and looked around at the stunning leather interior.

Francisco was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved plaid shirt with white running shoes, by far one of the most casual outfits you’ve ever seen him in.

You reached over and hugged him. “Thank you, this is amazing Francisco baby.”

He smiled, “You know, I know I told you Mr. Morales makes me feel old, but to be honest hermosa. Francisco makes me feel REALLY old.” He said with a chuckle.

You looked taken aback but smirked, “Okay, well now what am I supposed to call you?”

He glanced into the back seat and reached his right arm back. You watched as he pulled a baseball hat with a Standard Oil logo laden across the front and popped it firmly on his head, “Just call me Frankie.” 

@rmwarn90

[andreal831]

Lily Salvatore and Misogyny

I did an analysis on Esther a while back and was asked to do the same for Lily by @unabashedmoonlight. Sorry I am just getting around to it. I wanted to rewatch before discussing it in any kind of depth.

The misogyny Esther faces from the fandom is not limited to her, Lily and her heretics are constantly framed in misogynistic ways. She is yet another woman who has suffered immense levels of abuse, but is granted none of the understanding or forgiveness of her male counterparts.

When we first meet Lily, the show does a great job as painting her as the perfect villain. She appears to have almost no redeeming qualities. She is a ripper, she abandoned her own children to an abusive man, she started a new family and never looked back, etc. And this is what the fandom focuses on. They ignore the entire backstory that unfolds in Season 7 and her development. Yet, when the men in the show are critiqued for being monsters, the fandom jumps to explain it away by trauma and half-assed redemption arcs.

Lily is a perfect example of the cycle of abuse, escaping from one (Giuseppe) to find herself with another (Julien).

Lily and Giuseppe

Lily's abuse was even more explicitly stated than Esther's. There's no denying she was verbally, physically, emotionally, and financially abused throughout her marriage. To the point that she was willing to fake her own death and flee.

They even explicitly show that Lily was dependent on Giuseppe. She had to steal money from him to try and run with her own children because she didn't have any means for herself. She wasn't able to work and didn't have access to money.

During the time period they lived, Lily had nearly no resources to escape. She would have been the legal property of her husband. If she had run with her sons, Giuseppe would have had legal rights to throw her in jail. Yet she was willing to risk it to save her children. When Giuseppe found out he made certain that this was not going to be an option.

Lily also had less ability to protect her sons than Esther did since she wasn't a witch. She was not able to stop the abuse no matter how much people wanted her to. She could have stayed with her sons, but it wouldn't have stopped their abuse. She can be criticized as a mother for that, but at the same time, she was worried about her own survival as well. Giuseppe shot his own sons, it's not farfetched to believe she felt afraid for her life from such a man.

Lily and Julien

Shortly after she flees, Lily meets Julien. This is such a pivotal time for survivors. She had not had a chance to recover from the abuse in any means. It is very common for people who have suffered abuse to find themselves in second, third, fourth, etc. abusive relationships. It is a cycle. Abuse makes people feel weak and vulnerable as well as lowers their self-esteem. This can cause the survivors to seek out people who reinforce their low self-image and treat them how they feel they deserve to be treated.

In Lily's case, the only relationship she knew was Giuseppe. So when she meets Julien, and he is not physically abusing her, she truly believes he is better. She misses all of the other signs of abuse. She doesn't realize the manipulation. Julien is the reason Lily doesn't go back for her sons. She sends Oscar and Valerie to check on them and Julien convinces them to tell Lily they moved on from her death. Julien needed to stay in control of every aspect of Lily's life and he manipulated his way into getting that control without Lily even realizing it.

This is obvious by the way she vehemently tells her sons that Julien is nothing like Giuseppe. But as soon as they point out the similarities, she notices it right away and switches sides. This takes an incredible amount of strength to do. Once she realizes that Julien is no longer the man she thought he was, she turns on him. This is something the fandom tends to leave out when talking about Lily.

Her last moments are for her sons and her heretic children.

"I never had the courage to tell you before... I can choose them both."

After her death, Julien says that Lily is the only thing that kept her sane. This language is textbook narcissistic abuser. Making a person feel like every time you mess up it is their fault. They are the only thing that can keep you in line so if they ever leave, it will be their fault for everything you do.

Lily experienced abuse nearly her entire existence, but was finally able to fight back at the very end.

Lily, Stefan, and Damon

Most of the hate Lily gets is because of Damon. Damon's entire redemption plot is essentially tied to his treatment as a child/human life. TVDU likes to redeem characters by not making them seek redemption, but by making the fandom just feel bad for them and making excuses for their behaviors.

Damon and Klaus essentially get the same exact backstory because it is effective and takes minimal effort. Watching a child suffer abuse is an immediate way to garner sympathy because children are innocent. No one deserves to be abused, least of all children.

So painting Lily as a absolute villain allows more sympathy for Damon. But again, if Damon can get sympathy, it's only fair to give Lily sympathy as well. They both suffered abuse at different times. I'd even argue that Lily had better development.

Damon's last words to Lily show just how little Damon was able to grow as a character. He, like Klaus, hung onto his childhood trauma almost as a safety blanket. If he never faced his abuse, he could continue to use it to be angry. He never had to take accountability for anything. This is furthered by Damon at her funeral, acting like a child when his brother clearly needed to grieve. But that's another discussion.

Damon's development was tied to the women in his life, whereas Lily's was tied to her overcoming her abuse.

Lily and her Heretics

I also don't necessarily blame Lily for finding her family. TVDU is full of found families, even from characters that have living families. Yes, it hurt her sons to see her being more of a mother to other people, but should she have been alone the rest of her life?

Lily loved her heretics and even chose them over Julien. She wanted the best for them and even was willing to compromise with them to make them happy. This to me shows that she was a good person, but circumstances pushed her to do terrible things. Much like every man in the show.

The Misogyny of it all

Every character in the show has done bad things for various reasons. But the men get excuses and forgiveness, while the women get blame. I hate how often the show abuses women just so a man can have some kind of character development without doing anything.

Lily is a complex character. She is not all good or all bad. No one is. She wasn't evil for how she behaved, rather she was someone suffering abuse and responding to it.

I'm not saying Lily is perfect or that she deserved forgiveness from her sons. She still did so much that can be criticized. But we also can't ignore the abuse she suffered. She was a complex character who yes made terrible decisions, but ultimately was she worse than some of the fandom favorites? She did everything to fight for her and her family's survival like Elijah. She abandoned her children because of her own trauma just like Klaus did. She was a ripper like Stefan. Why are the women, who are victims of abuse, treated like the abusers rather than their fellow survivors?

[arainbowofchaos]

Love Vs Expectations

pair: Jungkook x reader

genre : angsty as fuck

warnings:  toxic relationship

word count: 1,2k

summary: You're in an unhealthy relationship with the man you've longed for, but you see it as better than having no relationship at all.

[A/N]: I’m sorry this is so angsty forgive my toxic ass

You're 28 years old; you don't have any time to waste. You need to create a life that reflects who you are, but you're not sure who that person is anymore.

You practice self-care and beauty routines to avoid regrets when you're older, but you used to go days without eating just to see if it could ease the pain in your heart. You're a hypocrite because you're addicted to a pain far more terrible than ever before. Now you've fallen deeply in love.

You managed to find someone even more damaged than you. However, the first time you met him, he made you believe that he had control over his emotions, that he was stable, confident in himself and in life in general. And you, who were afraid of everything, threw yourself into his arms to find comfort from all your woes.

He didn’t like it when you acted childish, but you met him at 19, so you were a child. Thus, you became more reasonable and mature in an effort to please him, and you lost your zest for life.

He doesn't make it clear that he'll never offer marriage or a baby, but after 8 years, you've come to the realization that he'll never make a move. You convince yourself that you don't care because he's the one you want forever. But deep down, you're full of doubts because why were you so eager to offer him exclusivity when he can’t commit fully to you?

You thought you were smarter than that; you didn’t think you would fall for someone who wouldn't treat you as you deserve. However, you fell head over heels in love with him without any control, and now, no matter how much you suffer, you're stuck.

While desperately trying to rediscover who you are, you reconnected with the passions from your teenage years that you had set aside to seem more grown-up. You enrolled in classes to learn and nurture your soul, all in an attempt to find yourself once again. You yearn to travel, meet people, and truly live, as you're exhausted from merely surviving.

He's not pleased. He understands toxicity, so he pretends to support you, not stopping you but gradually losing his spark. He doesn't smile anymore, and he doesn't make an effort with your friends. He silently makes you pay for showing interest in anything other than him.

So, you feel guilty, and you propose the idea of both of you embarking on a journey, leaving everything behind—your job, friends, family, and obligations. He's inclined to say yes to keep you by his side, but even this suggestion terrifies him. He desires your exclusive company, yet the prospect of commitment and potential pain holds him back. As a result, you stood at the edge, urging him to join the leap, hoping you could be together. Yet, he sadly holds back, and you're left with a heavy heart, uncertain of your next step.

Should you jump alone?

Jungkook's voice interrupts the flow of your thoughts, "Want to watch a movie?" he asks, nonchalantly, as if you hadn't been arguing just a few minutes ago.

You shake your head to decline. You don't want to watch TV because you know that you'll eventually end up cuddling on the comfort of your couch. You'll naturally rest your head against his chest, listening to the beats of his heart that will sync with yours. You're aware that feeling him so close could make you crumble and erase all your threats. Everything you just told him, that ultimatum you gave, all of it would mean nothing if you give in now.

"Come on, baby, come into my arms. I can't stand to see you like this," Jungkook pouts, moving dangerously close to you, and you retreat until your back hits the wall. You feel trapped, like an animal blinded by the headlights of a car, blinded by the beauty of the man in front of you. His large doe-like eyes look at you with tenderness, his pink and tempting lips beg for your forgiveness. And you could, you could give in; it wouldn't be the first time. But every time you do, you lose a bit more of your self-esteem.

"I'm sorry, baby. You know I love you, I'll never love anyone like you," lies, you think to yourself. Your jaw clenches, preventing you from screaming. You only hear those three words for your birthday or when you make a scene. He's so stingy with his words and feelings. You only get his "I love you" at the cost of your tears and pain.

You've had enough; you don't want to give in. Even though all you long for is to embrace him, to feel his warmth envelop and comfort you, you understand that you'll lose all credibility. He'll never put in the effort to truly invest and build with you.

"You're a diamond, so precious to me. Let me make it up to you. I'll do better in the future, I promise," he smiles widely and continues moving towards you. He's saying everything you want to hear, proving that he could be more generous with his words all the time. He could be perfect, but he chooses to be mediocre, and it's your fault, you've let him be that way from the start. But you were so young and in love, so naive and vulnerable. You just wanted someone to make you feel whole, and he kept his promise. Now without him, it feels like you’re nothing.

"I want you so much," he whispers into your ear now; you let him come too close. Tears escape your eyes, trailing slowly down your warm cheeks. Jungkook wipes them away with his thumbs and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. "You're so beautiful," he says softly. He never finds you as beautiful as when you're broken like this.

Jungkook starts kissing your neck, and you don't do anything to push him away. What's the point? You'd lose in this game. Because your body is made only for him, forever. He was the first to learn how to make you feel good. You're convinced that no one will ever be able to touch you like he does. His scent makes your head spin, and you moan as he leaves a trail of hickeys on your neck. He wants to remind you that you belong to him and only him, forever. Even if he never commits fully. Even if he sleeps with others. You are his.

As he lifts you up and carries you in his arms to your bedroom, calling you with sweet words and caressing your hair, you allow the weight of guilt to evaporate. You're doing your best; you’ll be stronger next time you promise yourself, and maybe he will decide that he only needs you just as you need him. You cling to his neck tightly; you don't want to let him go. Ever.

[thefrogdalorian]

I love Din Djarin for so many reasons. But I really love the fact that he isn't just an unequivocally good guy. Despite the level of care we see he has for Grogu, including breaking his Creed, and the multiple times he risks his life for various strangers.... you know there's still a dark past there. 

Din's response to the various traumas he suffered is precisely what makes him such a complex, engaging character to me. In my opinion, it's refreshing to see a realistic portrayal of how suffering terrible loss at an early age can fundamentally alter a person's outlook on life. Deep down, I think he has always been the caring person we begin to see that he is after he encounters Grogu. But the horrific way he lost his parents and was torn from his homeworld and taken in by a secretive, secluded group, who must have seemed impossibly strange to him due to the way they hid their faces. That, combined with Din having to hide his face from such an early age, I think, buried all of that goodness within him somewhere deep inside.

Characters that endure terrible things but come out as human sunshine that treat everyone with kindness and patience, I don't find as engaging because I don't think it's realistic. Any trauma, at any age, fundamentally alters you... whether you realise it at the time or not. 

I don't think Din has ever stopped to really process what happened to him. It seems he spent much of his adult life running around the galaxy from job to job for various nefarious entities to distract himself from those difficult emotions. 

But everything changes with Grogu, who I think could sense the goodness in him right away. This tiny child who was so terrified and traumatised, who had to hide his powers for so many years was so keen to physically heal Din pretty much immediately. Yet Grogu goes on to heal Din in unseen ways, too.

With Grogu, I think we see Din beginning to process his past as he cares for the child and protects him from threats in the galaxy. The only time we ever hear Din laugh is the last time they're in the Razor Crest together, right before Grogu was taken on Tython. Din didn't just lose Grogu's physical presence in his life that day on Gideon's light cruiser, he something intangible that was helping him to process his past.

After he stood there that day on the bridge with tears in his eyes, the next time we see Din, he's regressed to his old ways. A nameless, faceless bounty hunter: "I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold." 

So, I cannot even imagine how much it meant to Din that Grogu chose to come back to him. I truly hope that fact was communicated to him, or maybe Din could just sense it, given their bond. That was the final push Din needed, giving him the self esteem to continue to allow others in and get close to people again, like we see in season 3. 

With any kind of trauma, there is so much work to be done to address it and heal. It's a long, difficult and often lonely process. But Din is now going through that, thanks to Grogu. 

There is no doubt that Din Djarin has done terrible things, but there is also no doubt that he wants to be a better person. For his son... but also, hopefully, for himself. 

Now, Din deserves to rest. Now, he's no longer outrunning his past and distracting himself by hunting bounties for criminals. Now, he can find some peace as he watches his son outside the cabin they share together on Nevarro. 

It will never take the trauma away... but it will give him a brighter tomorrow. 

[synthetickitsune]

ateez + the little things

Hongjoong ❧ It’s late, yet you’re dragging on your nightly routine as much as possible. Wherever you go, you keep your phone within reach. The ringtone is on too, a change from the usual silent setting that you always forget to turn off. Hongjoong is a busy man. You doubt there exists a number to count all his apologies that you’ve accepted with a fond smile. You know that he cares, that he worries, and so you always keep your phone close. It’s always a surprise when it does ring, but it has taught you not to fear the sudden incoming calls too much - even if it’s all the more disappointing when the caller’s id doesn’t read his name. When it rings this late at night, you know what to expect; his tired voice drawling the words. He never talks about work, that’s for when you’re together, for when he can hold you as you ramble about this week’s infuriating incidents and for when you run your hands through his hair. No, his phone calls are always for one thing only - “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Seonghwa ❧ It’s a struggle to stay on top of everything - what with your job, your interests, the chores, maybe some social life and sleep squeezed in. Seonghwa is painfully aware of that and it’s honestly near the top of the list of reasons why you’re grateful to have him. What’s the number one reason, though, is his superpower. You’ve never met anyone like him and you’re sure he’s ruined at least half of the population for you. Because somehow, he helps you without making you feel like he’s nagging. And you know it’s his choice to treat you that way from the stories the other members tell you. He reminds you of stuff that needs to be done urgently and makes sure that you’re making progress on anything that takes a while to finish as the deadline is coming closer, and somehow he does so in a way that doesn’t make you want to give up on the task in question. Perhaps it’s the fact that he remembers all those things with his own busy schedule, or maybe it’s the proud look in his eyes and lingering kiss he gives you when you tell him you’re done. Who knows.

Yunho ❧ He knows when you need to get up, when you need to get up, just like he knows the type of breakfast that you can eat without upsetting your stomach early in the morning, what you like to drink to wake up and he doesn’t forget to prepare the vitamins next to the cup to keep you healthy. Yunho roughly remembers the time you need before you truly begin to function and he makes sure you’re out of the bed with enough time before you need to leave. If he can, he does anything in his power to make sure your morning goes smoothly. Your routines are so intertwined now it’s not that big of a deal anyway, but you appreciate it more than he’ll ever know. While your efforts are not as intricate, you try. Making sure he ate, reminding him to take breaks and that he’s already doing well, hugging him from behind when he least expects it. Yet he always one-ups you. It’s not a competition, of course, but any time you melt into his kiss while he’s rushing out the door has you feeling like he’s winning in this domestic life thing.

Yeosang ❧ If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you live with an angel. It’s rare to find a person as caring and generous as Yeosang. Or maybe you’re just taking advantage of him, even if he keeps reassuring you that’s not the case. The thing is, you’re pretty sure this world doesn’t deserve him - or at the very least, you don’t. He always shares with you without expecting anything in return. Peeling oranges is so much work, yet he never hesitates to give you at least half of his without you having to ask. You laugh at the couples on tv that fight over sharing fries because your saint of a boyfriend always encourages you to take his. Whatever is his, is yours. Although he might grumble playfully, he never threatens to take back the clothes you borrow. He’s bought another pillow because you kept saying that it’s more comfortable than yours. He shares his shower gel, his shampoo, his cologne sometimes too, just because you mentioned you liked smelling like him. You can only hope he won’t mind sharing his future with you too.

San ❧ He always stays aware of the looks people give him and how they react to him. San’s only wish is for everyone to be comfortable around him, and you most of all. As much as he knows you admire the hard work he’s put into his body and that your eyes linger on him just a second longer when he’s walking around shirtless, he knows that sometimes his appearance is something he needs to be mindful of. Conflicts happen in every relationship and sometimes people are simply too on edge. And that’s when he knows to sit down, ideally, or to focus on calming down even if it means holding his tongue when all he wants to do is argue back, to keep his posture relaxed instead of standing proud and rolling his shoulders back. He teaches himself patience for you. The last thing he wants is to scare you, and he knows how easy it is to make you flinch when emotions are high. It’s hard, but it’s all worth it when you no longer worry about approaching him after a fight. When you always finish making up with him by whispering a thank you against his lips.

Mingi ❧ The one thing that never fails to fascinate you about Mingi is how much attention he pays to you. Sometimes it might almost seem like he's hovering, but it's really just that he likes to spend his rare free time with you and make sure you're alright. He can't always be there for you and it makes him feel guilty, so he's trying to compensate for it when he can. And it's magical. He somehow always notices when you're about to bump into something, when you hold the knife in a dangerous way while cutting vegetables, or when you accidentally drop something and he pulls you right back so you don't get hurt. It's unbelievable how fast his reflexes work when it comes to you… and how he still manages to get hurt in all the ways he protects you from. If it wasn’t for his sheepish smile and hundred muttered apologies when you patch him up or get him an ice pack for his burned hand, you’d think he does it for attention.

Wooyoung ❧ He’s pretty sure he’s never made anyone as happy as he makes you. As you dig into the meal he’s prepared according to a recipe he’s never tried before, Wooyoung can’t hold back his smile at the sight of your cheeks filled with his food. He tries to fight it, but the genuine delight he sees on your face makes it impossible. It’s different from the proud look in your eyes when you see him perform, unlike the loving smile you grace him with each day or the happiness you radiate whenever he brings you little silly knick-knacks that reminded him of you. This is… purer? Is that the word? He can’t quite describe it, but he swears it’s the closest thing to pure joy he’s ever seen. And in turn it makes him smile the exact same way at you and your heart flutters because this is the effect you have on him? You end up smiling at each other like two idiots, your cheeks round and full with food, they burn because you’ve been grinning for the past ten minutes straight. It must be love.

Jongho ❧ Sometimes he wonders whether you’re getting tired. Feelings are messy, and expressing them is something he’s always struggled with, which usually leads to you making the first step. It’s a struggle to find the compromise between your individual love languages and Jongho will be the first one to admit you’re doing a significantly better job. Somehow you always manage to respect his boundaries while expressing yourself in the way you’re comfortable and making him feel loved. He’s trying, too, yet it seems to him it’s not enough. Maybe it’s the time strain, maybe it’s his own self-doubt creeping in. All he knows is that he loves you, and that it’s much easier to ramble, to vent, to be vulnerable and clumsily tell you all that he feels and thinks when you’re not looking at him with those eyes that make him feel like you already know each word he’s about to say. He’s so careful and gentle with his touch when you lay next to him asleep, his voice barely above whisper. Sometimes he hopes you’re only pretending and that you listen to him in silence. And sometimes he’s right.