#they said i should practice writing comfort so i don't forget how to

[pickingupmymercedes]

Boy from Stevenage - Lewis Hamilton

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: none, tooth rooting fluff, Lewis being vulnerable

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Felt like fluff was due, so totally self-indulgent nonsense I wrote after hearing bits of his speach for his GQ Awards.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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You leaned against the doorway as Lewis moved restlessly across the room, his brow furrowed with concentration. A braid kept falling into his face, and he kept tucking it behind his ear. He muttered to the reflection in the mirror, his expression serious as he practiced his speech for the GQ Awards ceremony, rehearsing it with the same intensity he would study race tracks.

A smile tugged at your lips. It was endearing, this nervous energy that usually only manifested before a race, and that so few got to see, filling the master bathroom of his NYC apartment. Tonight, however, the only race was against his stubborn desire to perfectly deliver his message.

When he finally sighed in frustration, you decided to fully enter the room. He caught your reflection in the mirror, and his face softened, the tension momentarily lessened.

"Hey," you tilted your head, offering a small smile.

He straightened, taking a deep breath. "Hi. How long have you been there?"

You shrugged, reaching for the fingers that gripped the marble. "A minute or two. Just… watching the master at work."

He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "More like a nervous wreck."

He gestured vaguely to the crumpled paper clutched in his hand. "Do you think it's alright? I don't want to sound… pompous."

You reached out for him, turning his face to look him in the eye, your fingers smoothing the worry lines on his brow with your thumb. "Lewis," you started, your voice soft. "Nobody's going to think you're pompous. They're going to be captivated."

His eyes, the warm brown that stole your breath every time, met yours with a glint of nervousness. "You really think so?"

A soft smile and chuckle spread through your features. It was a challenge, putting your admiration for him into words. You weren’t one for grand gestures or over-the-top declarations. It was in the quiet moments, the shared understanding, the unspoken language that existed only between the two of you that you showed him how much he meant to you.

"They'll all be in love with you," you finally said, a loving spark in your eyes. "Just like I am."

He chuckled, a hint of relief washing over him. "Smooth, (Y/N)."

You took his hand, gently pulling him away from the mirror. "Come on," you said, urging him towards the plush armchair in the bedroom nestled by the window. "Let's forget about speeches for a while."

He followed willingly, sinking into the chair with a sigh as he dragged you down with him. You settled on his lap, pulling your legs comfortably on top of his on the stool. The city lights became a shimmering backdrop to your comfortable silence.

"I’m really proud of you," your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers danced on his chest and he looked out the window.

His hand automatically sought yours. You squeezed gently. "More than you can imagine," you admitted.

"Sometimes it all feels a bit overwhelming," he confessed, his voice raw. "The platform, the attention, the expectation to be a voice for everything."

"You don't have to be a voice for everything, though," you countered, your voice firm as he locked his gaze on your intertwined fingers. "But what you do choose to speak up about… that's what makes me so proud."

He looked at you, his eyes searching your face. "Even the stuff that makes some people uncomfortable?"

You let out a proud smile and a knowing giggle. "Especially those. You use your platform to speak when others won’t."

He squeezed your hand, gratitude evident in his tone and his eyes. "Maybe you should be writing the speeches after all."

You laughed, a soft sound that filled the room. "You just need to be reminded that you're Lewis Hamilton, not a nervous rookie on his first podium."

You leaned your head against his shoulder, his arms embracing you as he turned his head, placing a soft kiss on your temple. "Thank you, love. But we really need to get going," he whispered, just before he picked you up and put you back down on the armchair, heading back to the bathroom.

As Lewis got in the shower, you couldn't help but steal a glance at the crumpled speech in his hand. You knew he wasn't one to brag about his achievements, but a part of you yearned to understand the weight of the words he was struggling with.

Carefully, you reached out and picked up the paper. It was filled with Lewis's handwriting, edits scrawled across some lines. You scanned the opening, your heart swelling. It wasn't about self-praise or glorifying his victories. It was a heartfelt dedication to the countless individuals who had supported him on his journey, from his early days karting in Stevenage until now.

He spoke of his family, the unwavering pillar behind him, their sacrifices paving the way for his dreams. He mentioned his mentors and heroes, those who had nurtured his talent and those who had inspired him to push to be his best. He even acknowledged his rivals, the competitors that had honed his skills and fueled his relentless pursuit of excellence.

But then, there was a section that was heavily underlined, a paragraph riddled with question marks and crossed-out phrases. It was about the kids that he hoped to have inspired.

He wrote about the grounding effect they had on his own path. He spoke of how he, too, was an impressionable young boy, wishing for something greater.

You knew sometimes Lewis struggled to express his emotions openly, yet here he was, trying to articulate the depth of what it meant to him to be put on the same pedestal as his heroes.

It was the written proof of how much this award, how much this entire platform, meant to him – a chance to not just be Lewis Hamilton, the champion, but Lewis, the boy who had aimed for the stars and received the moon as a gift.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. You pictured the faces in the opulent ballroom, expecting a typical self-congratulatory speech from the motorsport legend. The surprise on their faces when Lewis poured his heart out, his voice thick with a vulnerability they wouldn't have anticipated, would be priceless.

He may be a titan on the racetrack, but here, in the quiet intimacy of the apartment, he was simply Lewis, the man who might fumble with expressing his emotions but whose actions spoke volumes.

As you two rode in the backseat towards the gala, the city lights morphing into a mesmerizing dance of colors, you snuggled closer to Lewis, his steady breathing a comforting rhythm.

"Hey," you whispered, tracing a finger across the back of his hand.

He jolted out of his thoughts, his eyes looking for yours. "Hmm?"

"You know," you began, searching for the right words, "you don't need to win over that entire room tonight. You just need to make that brave boy from Stevenage proud."

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

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@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff

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[vexis-world]

“You can't seriously be that dumb..!”

💗 Clarisse la rue x daughter of Apollo!reader one-shot 💗

Authors note: hi reader!! This is my first fan-fiction post so I'd love any constructive criticism to help improve my writing for the future! This is not beta read so it's far from perfect - but I hope you will still enjoy it nonetheless :)) Ty for reading! 🫶

Short summary: Clarisse has some doubts about your "relationship" and seeks you out to speak about her worries.

Word count: 940ish words!

Clarisse’s mind was swarming with thoughts; it always does when she trains alone. She thinks best in the training arena, it's in her blood after all. You and her had been in a relationship for almost 3 months now and hadn't kissed yet. Which isn't a big deal! Clarisse doesn't mind, at least that's what she tells herself. But this is her first relationship, and she doesn't have anyone to unload this onto. To ask advice without having to reveal too much about herself, and her most private fears. She knew that you wanted to take things slow. Although it was not confirmed by words, Clarisse could (in her opinion) read her ‘girlfriend’ well. However when was slow, too slow? Were you having mixed feelings all of a sudden? And if so why had this not been brought up? Clarisse believed that you two were close, as ones in a romantic partnership should be; but perhaps not as close as she had originally thought.

Clarisse took large and fast steps, speed walking over to you. People moved out of her way, they could tell it was urgent and that they shouldn't mess with Clarisse at this moment. Or any moment for that matter.

“Hey Clarisse!” you spoke enthusiastically, finishing up a patient in the infirmary. “Pretty girl, explain something to me.” Clarisse's words make you blush, faintly; you had mainly gotten used to her flirty remarks these past few weeks, but she always manages to catch you off guard, every once in a while. “Ok.. what's up?” you asked, in a nervous tone. You could clearly see the distressed look on the girls face. “It's sort of private, can we speak in the back?” this added to your nerves, clarisse was usually never this off. “Of course, is everything okay?” but before you could finish your sentence, clarisse had already walked over to the back of the infirmary and into the supply area.

The supply closet was cramped with the both of you in there. Clarisse had to push up against you with an arm over your head for you two to fit somewhat comfortably. “Clarisse, is everything okay?” you asked again, this time hoping you would get a straight forward reply. “Do you.. Have you um..” clarisse stuttered avoiding your concerned gaze. “Have you lost feelings for me or something?” she finally mutters. You spent a minute gathering up your words, to find a way to reply. You bit your lip with furrowed brows, before the words fully processed and then said. “What..?” Clarisse had a strange expression on her face. “It's been three months and we haven't kissed or held hands in public. We don't go on proper dates. I feel like you don’t like me” she says quickly with an eye-roll included. “Clarisse, what are you on about..? Why would we kiss?” you asked hesitantly. “Why wouldn't you? Were in a relationship, isn't that kinda the norm?” This left you frozen. You were shocked, obviously but also majorly embarrassed. Had you been in a relationship without even knowing it? And to your crush no less. Fuck. “.. relationship?” you said nauseously, with butterflies in your stomach. “Clarisse, is this some sort of sick joke..?” you added, with shallow breaths. The room was getting stuffy and suffocating. “What do you mean sick joke? Have I ever lied to you? Are my feelings a joke to you? Is that it? Forget it. If I make you this fucking sick then good thing you're in the infirmary. I'm leaving, let's not talk for a while, 'kay?” she pushes past you. since you two were practically melted into one another, you could feel how she'd gotten warmer and how her heart rate had gone up significantly. You try to go after her but just as you do, your brother, Will asks you to tend to another patient that had just come in. He calls over his shoulder. “trouble in paradise? Gonna have to wait, I'm afraid - I need some help over here!” leaving you even more puzzled.

An hour or two goes by since you spoke with clarisse, and she’s consumed your thoughts entirely. You decided to speak to her at dinner and try to resolve whatever happened earlier.

“Clarisse, can we talk? Again..” you whispered, almost begging. “Kinda busy. We’ll talk later.” clarisse brushes you off to finish scraping her offerings into the fire. “Please clarisse. I need to speak to you. Just for a second.” you plead. “Two minutes. Two, that's it.” clarisse says, her eyes finally looking up from fire to the now very interesting sky. “Thank you.” You sigh and lead her away to a more secluded area as she had done with you. “I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. And they're not a joke to me. I'm just confused. What did you mean by relationship?” Clarisse replies by saying “what do you mean, what do i mean? We're dating, aren't we?” you take a pause, dumbfounded for the second time today. “Since when? Don't take this the wrong way but.. I don't remember you asking me to be your.. Um.. girlfriend.” your voice is wobbly and uncertain, you try your best to make your words seem kinder, as to not offend clarisse again. “Well, I guess I never asked but.. Oh.” Clarisse's words end as she parts her lips. She's realised her error. And so had you. You let out a breathy chuckle and say “maybe this time you should actually ask me.'' Clarisse looks at you with much more confidence now, her infamous sly grin back on her perfect face. “Maybe that would be best, sweet girl.”

[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

can I please get headcannons for the bones boys taking you out on a first date? Thank you so much for writing for bones!

A/N: anything for my bones boys

Booth would definitely do something unconventional. Something fun, unexpected, something that was a bit competitive, but mostly something where he could show off.

"Really?" you almost laughed as you stood in front of the entrance. "The fair?"

"Oh, come on. When was the last time you did something like this?" He nudged you on your shoulder, wagging his eyebrows at you.

He would then proceed to win you a giant stuffed bear at the duck shoot.

"What?" he shrugged nonchalantly, "Like's hard?"

"Not for you apparently," you teased. "Though I expect being a ranger turned FBI agent probably helps."

You started walking backwards enjoying the challenging look in his eyes.

"Are you trying to rial me up?" he questioned, smirking at you.

You leaned in close to him, enjoying the way his breathing increased. "Depends, how easy do you fluster?"

You pulled away, making your way towards the ring toss.

"Oh, I see how it is," Booth shouted as he trailed after you, slinging his arm over your shoulder.

The first date with Booth would solely about getting to know you, making you laugh, and gauging just how comfortable he could be around you. It would absolutely end with him being a giant tease and kissing you on the corner of your mouth or your temple.

Hodgins, rich (so rich he doesn't even know how rich), Hodgins would try and impress you. At least that was his first thought. Private and obscenely expensive dinner? Check. Expensive car to get you there? Check.

But like many things in Jack's life, it never really went according to plan.

"Oh, come on!" Jack grumbled at the flat tire. "I just had the car serviced. I can't believe this."

It was only when you started laughing that he relaxed enough to look at you.

"What?" He asked a bit in disbelief. Crushing thoughts about how this was the worst first date to never actually even start diminished at the sight your smile.

"I don't think I've seen you this stressed since you tried to hide TNT experiment from Cam," you said laughter dying down.

"Hey, that civil war exhibit didn't need it as much as us," he reasoned, a smile now stretching across his own face as he leaned against his car.

You mirrored his movements, shoulder pressed against his as you leaned against the car.

"I wanted this to be perfect. But just about everything seems to have gone wrong."

"Well, it's a good thing the night isn't over yet," you looked around. "You know, I think we're close to the diner."

"You can't be serious," he laughed. A mixture of disbelief and awe.

"Dead. I never needed anything fancy anyways - just you Jack."

From that moment, he knew that he wasn't ever going to mess it up. You were it for him.

Sweets would want to do anything where the two of you could just talk. We know he's done a pottery class before so something along those lines. Really anything where he got to just look at you with a big grin on his face and listen to every word that came out of your mouth.

"Lance?"

"Yeah?"

"Your chicken is burning."

"Oh, shit."

You let out a laugh that made him forget all about the charred chicken. He, in hindsight, should have known better than to plan a cooking class as your first date. Not when you distracted him so easily he could chop a finger off. Definitely not his best idea.

"Here, we can just share mine," you said as you fed him some of your food. All teasing smiles and delicious prolonged eye contact.

Definitely not his worst date idea.

Wendell is one for simplicity. He wants to get to know you, but he also doesn't want to go overboard and scare you off. He'd plan for a simple dinner (your pick) and make a walk around the city.

The street lights illuminated the city, a cool breeze rushing past you. You tried your best not to seem cold - you'd opted for looks- not practically. Now you were paying the price for it.

A sudden rush of warm hit you, you looked up at Wendell who'd wordlessly placed his jacket over your shoulders.

"Wendell-"

"Don't even mention it. Can't have you getting sick now, can I?" He gently nudged your shoulder with his own as you walked side by side. "Wouldn't want you to rain check the next date."

"The next one?" you prodded - warmth washing over your cheeks. "Someone is presumptuous," you teased.

"Nah, just optimistic," He smiled brightly at you. "So, what do ya say?"

"I think your odds are looking pretty good," you looped your arm to hold on to his.

Wendell wouldn't necessarily consider himself a betting man, but he'd say he won out on this one.

Vincent was quiet sure how he'd managed it. It was all a bit of blur if he was honest. One second you both were discussing how no number before a thousand contains the letter a, and the next he had asked you out. And you'd said yes.

He almost thought he'd dreampt it, really. You'd had to call out his name twice before he blinked himself back into reality.

Now he stood in front of your door holding flowers that were wilting away by the second - he swore he'd just gotten them and they looked pristine.

He let out a sigh, knuckles frozen over the door. This would be, fine. You already said yes. Oh, God.

Knuckles knocking against the door, he frantically smoothed out his hair.

"Vincent!"

You leaned in for a hug, crushing the flowers, but he couldn't bring himself to care. You pulled away giving him this brilliant smile that put him at ease.

"Are those for me?"

"Wha- yes. Yes, they are for you." He handed you the roses. "Did you know over 30,000 rose varieties exist today?"

You let out a small laugh, eyes still sparkling. "I didn't, but thank you for telling me."

That smile of your really did put him at ease. This would be fine - this would be great - because he was with you.

When Colin asked you to go out with him to the Slasherthon at the local movie theater he wasn't actually sure you'd say yes. But he figured the worst you could say was no - or you know, laugh at him until he fell into an endless abyss of shame.

Either would be fine.

He expected the abyss.

He did not expect you to say yes. Let alone actually show up. But there you were in a Jason Voorhees t-shirt all smiles as he walked up to you.

"Are you ready for lots of gore and eating our weight in popcorn?" You asked practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. He'd never seen anything more lively or beautiful in his life.

"A person after my own heart," he said dramatically - hand placed over his own heart.

"Come on, Colin," you grabbed his hand pulling him into the theater. As you led him away he realized the abyss option would have been much worse than he had anticipated.

You were a light shining into his abyss.

Aubrey would take you to a nice sit down restaurant. He spent the better half of the week trying to decide where exactly to take you. He'd finally settled on a restaurant you had been talking about trying for a month now.

"Aubrey, how did you know I wanted to eat here?" You asked, leaning forward. Your eyes excitedly bouncing between the menu and Aubrey.

"You've been talking about it," he shrugged, trying his hardest to be nonchalant about it.

"Aubrey- I mentioned it once, like, a month ago." You laughed a bit in disbelief.

"And?"

"And how do you remember something like that?"

"It sounded important to you, why wouldn't I want to remember it?"

He'd be lying if he didn't say he enjoyed that look on your face. A mixture of disbelief and being heard - actually heard.

"Now, I'm thinking we go family style on this bad boy and see what all the fuss is about." Aubrey leaned forward, both of you so close to the other. If the flowers in the middle of the table weren't in the way he just might have leaned in for kiss.

"You sure you can leave some food for me?" You teased, your eyes sparkling in a way that made Aubrey realize he never wanted to see your eyes without it.

"Sweetheart, I'd leave all of it for you if you asked."

"Liar," you laughed.

"Alright some of it, but that's better than none!"

[valkyriexo]

VAL!

You are already one of my favorite writers. I really love your work so much ( I'm lying I'm obsessed i visit your page every day). I was wondering if you can write something for a plus-size reader? (if your comfortable if not I totally understand) Your feeling insecure about your appearance but your boyfriend Hyunjin wants to go to the beach. When at the beach maybe some people dont find you pretty or dont think you should be with him? and hyunjin comforts you and makes you feel special and good (and maybe a little spice 😉) idk i think it would be fluffy and cute.

At the Beach | Hyunjin

ᑉ³pairing; Hyunjin x plus sized!Reader

ᑉ³genre; Fluff, comfort , Suggestive MDNI

ᑉ³warnings; contains insecurity, online hate, and hurt/comfort, Mentions of weight, mentions of food, mentions of hate, kissing, fingering minors do NOT interact

ᑉ³Authors Note; might be a hard topic for some, please read at your own discretion. Thank you for your request :) i hope you enjoy it!

As the sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky with shades of pink and gold, Hyunjin's excitement was palpable. He had carefully planned a special day for the two of you, packing a picnic basket filled with your favorite snacks, a cozy blanket, and an array of paints and canvases.

"Don't forget your sunscreen!" He said popping his head in through your door. " It's going to be sunny all day." He flashed a bright smile before darting off. You could hear him him the living room testing the portable speaker.

Meanwhile, as you stood before the mirror, doubts crept into your mind. Your reflection seemed to magnify every insecurity, every curve that society deemed less than perfect. Your gaze lingered on the parts of yourself you wished you could change, the parts that whispered cruel lies about your worth. The thought of baring yourself on the beach filled you with dread, but you couldn't bear to dampen Hyunjin's excitement. So, with a tentative smile hiding your fears, you agreed to go, hoping the sea breeze would wash away your worries.

A moment later, he reappeared, holding a hat. "Here, wear this. It'll keep the sun out of your eyes," he said, placing the hat gently on your head. "Looks good on you," he added with a wink.

You forced a smile, trying to match his enthusiasm. "Thanks, Jinnie."

He beamed at you, his joy almost tangible. "I think we're all set! Are you ready?"

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be."

With everything packed, the two of you headed out to the car. The drive to the beach was filled with Hyunjin's cheerful chatter and your shared laughter. He played your favorite songs on the radio, singing along dramatically, trying to coax you into joining him. His antics eventually drew a genuine smile from you, easing some of the tension you had felt earlier.

As you arrived at the beach, the sunlight danced on the waves and the sight of the sparkling waves and the gentle hum of the ocean began to soothe your nerves. Taking a deep breath, you followed Hyunjin onto the soft sand, the warmth seeping into your toes with each step, nerves fluttering in your stomach.

As you ventured further onto the sand, Hyunjin's excitement bubbled over as he guided you toward a spot he had already chosen. With practiced ease, he began setting up the tent, its billowing fabric providing shelter from the intense sunlight, and a makeshift painting station, carefully arranging his canvases and paints while you watched.

With the tent secured in place, he beckoned you over with a smile, inviting you to join him beneath it. The soft rustle of the fabric and the gentle lapping of the waves provided a soothing soundtrack as you settled in beside him, the warmth of the sun tempered by the cool shade.

"How about we go for a swim first?" he suggested, his voice filled with enthusiasm as he snuggled a little closer to you . "The water looks so inviting..."

You hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face. The thought of exposing yourself in a swimsuit still stirred up feelings of insecurity. "Um, maybe later," you replied, trying to mask your apprehension. " I'm still a little cold."

"Okay, how about we paint first then?" he suggested with a warm smile. "We can capture this beautiful view while we relax."

You accepted the brush with a grateful nod, feeling more at ease with his compassionate approach. As you began to paint, the worries that had been nagging at you gradually melted away. You found yourself increasingly immersed in the joy of painting and the peacefulness of the beach.

You smiled, feeling a flutter of affection in your chest. "What are you painting?" you asked, leaning in closer to try to get a better look at his canvas.

Hyunjin chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he subtly shifted the canvas away from your line of sight. "Ah ah ah, no peeking," he teased, his tone playful. "It's a surprise."

You pouted playfully, feigning disappointment as you turned your gaze towards the water. "Fine, keep your secrets," you teased back, unable to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

He grinned, delighted by your reaction, before shifting his attention back to the picnic basket.

He grinned, delighted by your reaction, before shifting his attention back to the picnic basket. "How about we take a break and enjoy some snacks?" he suggested, "I made sure to pack your favorites."

The picnic basket was filled with an assortment of delectable treats: Chocolate dipped strawberries, chips, chocolates, and more.

However, as you glanced at the tempting array of snacks, a wave of insecurity washed over you. You couldn't shake the nagging feeling that indulging in these treats would only add to the weight you already carried—both physically and emotionally.

"I'm okay, thank you," you replied with a forced smile, your voice wavering. "I'm not very hungry."

Hyunjin's expression softened with concern, though he tried to hide it with a reassuring smile. "Are you sure? You should eat something," he urged gently, reaching for a piece of fruit and offering it to you.

You hesitated, a myriad of conflicting emotions swirling within you. You struggled to find the words to explain your reluctance. But in the end, you simply shook your head and forced yourself to decline, offering him a weak smile in return.

His heart twinged with a hint of sadness at your refusal, though he chose not to press the matter further. "Okay, maybe later then," he said softly, trying to mask his disappointment with a cheerful tone. The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the beach. "What do you say we take a dip?" he suggested, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You hesitated, the thought of baring yourself in swimwear sending a shiver of apprehension down your spine. But as you glanced at Hyunjin's eager expression, you knew you didn't want to make him disappointed. With a deep breath, you nodded, a tentative smile gracing your lips. "Okay, let's do it," you agreed.

Hyunjin beamed at your response, his excitement palpable as he stood up, his hand reaching out to intertwine with yours. "Great! The water looks amazing," he said, his enthusiasm contagious. "I'll race you there!"

With each step closer to the ocean, the knot of apprehension in your stomach tightened, but you pushed the fear aside, determined to seize the opportunity to share this moment with him.

As the cool water lapped at your feet, Hyunjin turned to you with a playful glint in his eyes. "Ready?" he asked, his voice filled with excitement. You took a deep breath and nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you braced yourself for the plunge. You both took the leap, the rush of the ocean enveloping you in its embrace.

The water was cool and refreshing against your skin, washing away the heat of the day. As you surfaced, laughter bubbled from your lips, mingling with Hyunjin's joyful chuckles as he splashed playfully nearby.

As you laughed and played in the water, Hyunjin's gaze softened, his eyes reflecting the depth of his affection for you. With a tender smile, he reached out and gently lifted you into his arms, effortlessly wrapping your legs around his waist as he held you close.

Your heart swelled with love as you looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but adoration and devotion reflected back at you. And in that moment, as the world faded into the background and it was just the two of you, you felt a sense of completeness—a feeling that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

With a soft sigh, you leaned in closer, feeling the warmth of Hyunjin's lips pressing against yours. His arms wrapped around you securely, drawing you closer as the gentle caress of his lips sent tingles of electricity coursing through your body.

The taste of salt from the ocean lingered on your lips. As your mouths moved together in perfect harmony, the world around you faded into a blur, leaving only the sensation of his touch and the overwhelming rush of emotion.

As you pulled away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you found yourself lost in the depths of Hyunjin's gaze. In his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own love and adoration. And as you lingered in each other's embrace, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the echo of your hearts beating as one.

After swimming around for a bit, the two of you began to feel the chill of the water seep into your skin. With a shared glance, you both silently agreed that it was time to return to the warmth of the shore.

Hyunjin gently guided you back towards the beach, his arms wrapped around you protectively as you made your way through the gentle waves. As you reached the shallows, you felt the sand beneath your feet once more, the familiar sensation grounding you in reality.

With a contented sigh, you turned to face Hyunjin, a smile playing on your lips as you took in the sight of his damp hair and the sparkle in his eyes. He returned your smile, his hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair away from your face.

"That was fun," he said softly, his voice warm with affection. "I'm glad we decided to take a dip."

You nodded, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. "Me too," you agreed, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips. "Thank you for convincing me to go in."

Hyunjin's smile widened at your words, his arms pulling you close as he returned your kiss with equal tenderness. "Anytime," he whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours in the cool ocean air.

 The warmth of the sun dried your skin as you made your way back to the sun tent. You both shook off the excess water and dried yourselves off with the towel.

Once you were dry, Hyunjin rummaged through the picnic basket once more, pulling out a container of chocolate-covered strawberries. "How about a snack?" he suggested, holding out the container towards you.

You hesitated, the familiar wave of insecurity creeping back into your mind. But as you met Hyunjin's hopeful gaze, you knew you couldn't refuse him again. With a small nod, you reached out and took a strawberry, trying to ignore the nagging voice of doubt in the back of your mind.

He took a strawberry for himself, popping it into his mouth with a satisfied hum. "These are so good," he remarked, his eyes twinkling with delight as he savored the sweet treat. "Here, try another one."

As you both enjoyed the strawberries, Hyunjin's attention shifted to the rest of the picnic basket. With a grin, he pulled out a pair of sandwiches, unwrapping them and taking a hearty bite.

"Mmm, these sandwiches are amazing," he declared between bites, his enthusiasm contagious. As you both continued to enjoy the strawberries and sandwiches, Hyunjin's contentment radiated from him, evident in the soft hum of happiness that escaped his lips.

With a gentle sigh, you leaned back against the blanket, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin and the comforting weight of Hyunjin's presence beside you.

Just as the serene moment enveloped you and Hyunjin, a notification chimed on your phone, pulling you back to reality. With a curious frown, you glanced at the screen, your heart sinking as you saw the tag in an Instagram post from a news page known for stirring up drama, especially within the realm of celebrities and K-pop idols.

Your brows furrowed with concern as you tapped on the notification, revealing the post. Your breath caught in your throat as you opened the post, your worst fears confirmed as you saw a picture of you and Hyunjin kissing on the beach. The caption was filled with cruel words, comparing you to Hyunjin and insinuating that you didn't belong together.

A pang of insecurity shot through you, your heart aching at the hurtful words. You tried to hide your distress from Hyunjin. As you stared at the screen, the words of the caption burned into your mind like branding irons, each syllable a searing reminder of the insecurities you had tried so hard to bury. You felt a lump form in your throat, and a sting of tears in your eyes.

With a heavy heart, you quickly closed the app, trying to push away the hurtful words that had pierced through you like daggers. But the damage had been done, and the weight of the cruel caption lingered in the air like a dark cloud.

"I... I want to go home," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to contain the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

Hyunjin's brows furrowed with concern, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek, urging you to look at him. "What happened?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

You couldn't bear to meet his gaze, couldn't bear to see the disappointment you knew would be mirrored in his eyes. "It's nothing," you replied, forcing a shaky smile as you blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. "I just... I'm not feeling well. I think I need to go home."

But Hyunjin wasn't convinced, his brows furrowing with worry. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with genuine concern. "You can tell me, you know."

You shook your head, the lump in your throat growing larger with each passing moment. You didn't want to burden him with your insecurities, didn't want him to see the ugly truth lurking beneath the surface. All you wanted was to escape, to retreat into the safety of solitude and lick your wounds in private.

"I just... I just want to go home," you choked out, your voice trembling with emotion as you hastily pulled on a hoodie, desperate to hide the tears threatening to spill over. "Please, can we just go?"

Before Hyunjin could respond, you got up and fled. You ran towards the car, your vision blurred with tears as you stumbled over the sand, each step a painful reminder of the scars etched into your heart.

As you hastily made your way towards the car, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and desperation, you could hear the sound of Hyunjin's footsteps following close behind. Despite your attempts to outrun him, he caught up to you with ease, his hand reaching out to gently grasp your shoulder.

"Wait," he called out, his voice soft yet filled with urgency. "Please, talk to me. What's going on?"

You halted in your tracks, your shoulders tense with pent-up emotion as Hyunjin's hand rested gently on your shoulder. His voice, soft yet urgent, pierced through the turmoil in your mind, begging for an explanation you weren't ready to give.

"I...," you began, but the words caught in your throat, suffocated by the weight of your insecurities. How could you burden him with the ugly truth lurking beneath the surface? How could you admit to the doubts that threatened to tear you apart?

Before you could gather the courage to respond, Hyunjin let out a resigned sigh, his hand falling away from your shoulder. "Fine," he said softly, his voice tinged with disappointment. "Let me grab the rest of our stuff, and I'll take you home."

You watched silently as he turned away, his footsteps growing fainter with each passing moment.

As you stood alone in the fading light of the sunset, the gentle breeze carrying the scent of salt and sand, you knew that you had let him down. And as the tears fell from your eyes, you couldn't help but wonder if you would ever find the courage to confront the demons that haunted you, to share the burden of your pain with the one person who had always been there for you.

The car ride home was a silent one, the only sound filling the air was the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sniffle from you. With your face buried in your hands, you couldn't bear to look at Hyunjin, couldn't bear to see the disappointment or pity in his eyes.

Hyunjin respected your need for silence, his own thoughts consumed by worry and concern for you. He stole glances at you from time to time, his heart aching at the sight of your pain, but he knew that pushing you to talk would only make things worse.

As the car pulled into the driveway and came to a stop, you made a hasty retreat, your steps heavy with the weight of your sorrow. You barely registered Hyunjin's voice calling out to you, his concern palpable in the air, but you couldn't bring yourself to respond.

"Please, just… wait a second," Hyunjin called after you, his voice tinged with desperation.

The house felt empty and cold. You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you, the silence of the space echoing your inner turmoil.

As the water cascaded over you in the shower, mixing with the tears streaming down your face, you allowed yourself a moment of vulnerability. The sound of the running water masked the sound of your sobs, providing a small semblance of privacy in the midst of your anguish. Minutes felt like hours as you stood there, letting the warm water hit you. The cruel words replayed in your mind, each one a sting that cut deeper than the last.

Finally, as the water in the shower began to run cold, you emerged from the bathroom, your eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. You froze in surprise at the sight of Hyunjin sitting on the edge of the bed, your phone in his hand, his expression filled with remorse.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he met your gaze. "I shouldn't have gone through your phone, but I couldn't just stand by and watch you cry."

Your heart sank, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration bubbling up inside you. "Hyunjin, you had no right," you said softly, though your voice lacked conviction.

"I know," he replied, his eyes pleading for understanding. "But when I saw how upset you were, I had to know what was hurting you. And now I understand why you wanted to leave."

Your anger flared, a protective shield against the vulnerability you felt. "And what if I wasn't ready to tell you?" you demanded, your eyes flashing with hurt. "What if I needed time to process it on my own?"

Hyunjin's expression softened, his eyes brimming with regret. "I would have waited," he said softly. "But seeing you in so much pain… it tore me apart. I acted out of concern, not mistrust." he continued. "I'm truly sorry. I promise it won't happen again. I just… I love you so much, and it hurts to see you hurting."

Hyunjin set the phone aside and stood up, closing the distance between you in a few quick steps. He gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the remnants of your tears. "Listen to me," he said firmly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart ache. "Those people don't know you. They don't know us. All they see is a snapshot, a moment in time. But I see the real you, and I love every bit of you."

"But what if they're right?" you whispered. "What if I'm not good enough for you?"

Hyunjin's eyes softened, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "Why would you ever think that?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine confusion and concern.

"Because..." you hesitated, struggling to find the words to express the yourself. "Because you're Hyunjin. You're talented, handsome, loved by so many people. And I'm just... me. I don't understand why you're with me. You could have anyone, someone who's... who's beautiful, who looks beautiful next to you too."

Hyunjin's heart clenched at your words, the pain evident in his eyes as he reached out to gently cup your face in his hands. "Listen to me," he urged, his voice filled with urgency. "I don't want just anyone. I want you. You are the most beautiful person I've ever known, and not just because of how you look, but because of who you are—kind, compassionate, and full of light."

He stepped closer to you. "I chose you because I love you," he said softly, his gaze never wavering from yours. "Not because of what others think, not because of some superficial reasons. I love you for who you are—the way you make me laugh, the way you care about others, the way you make me feel understood and loved."

As he spoke, his gaze never wavered from yours, his eyes shining with sincerity and love. "And as for looking beautiful next to me," he continued, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "you make everything around you more beautiful, including me."

"But I feel so unworthy," you admitted, your voice breaking as tears streamed down your cheeks. "I'm afraid I'll never be enough for you. I'm just dragging you down. You deserve someone who can match your brilliance, someone who won't be a constant source of worry and stress."

The flood of emotions overwhelmed you, and you felt the need to escape, to distance yourself from Hyunjin and all the intense feelings that threatened to consume you. You took a step back, your hands trembling as you tried to wipe away the relentless tears. "I'm sorry," you choked out, your voice barely audible.

Just as you turned to flee, Hyunjin quickly stepped forward and grabbed your arm, his grip firm yet gentle. "No, please don't go," he said, his voice filled with desperation. "Don't run away from me."

You struggled for a moment, but Hyunjin's hold remained steady, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart ache.

The tears flowed more freely now, your shoulders shaking with the force of your sobs. "But why?" you cried out, your voice filled with anguish.

"You are not a burden," he said firmly. "You are my partner, my love. You make me happy in ways I never thought possible. Your worth isn't determined by what others say or think. It's determined by who you are, and to me, you are everything."

You found yourself searching his eyes for any hint of doubt. Instead, you saw only sincerity and a deep love that left you breathless. With a shaky breath, you took a tentative step closer, your hands reaching up to rest against his chest. “I just don’t want to disappoint you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“You could never disappoint me,” Hyunjin murmured, his hands gently cupping your face as he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “I love you for who you are, and nothing will ever change that.”

In that moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you standing together in the quiet of your home. Hyunjin’s eyes never left yours as he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a tender, heartfelt kiss.

"And you know what?" Hyunjin added. "I even made something to show you just how beautiful you are."

Curiosity piqued, you arched an eyebrow inquisitively. "What do you mean?" you asked.

With a grin, Hyunjin reached for something hidden behind the bed, producing a canvas covered in a cloth. With a flourish, he unveiled his creation, revealing a breathtaking painting.

Before you lay a masterpiece, bathed in hues of vibrant colors. 

The scene depicted was ethereal—a tranquil beach bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, with waves gently lapping against the shore. The details were mesmerizing—the play of light on the water, the delicate brushstrokes that captured the movement of the waves, the subtle shifts in color that mirrored the changing sky. But it was the figure at the center of the painting that drew your attention, their presence commanding the viewer's gaze. The figure sat, with their back turned to the viewer as they gazed out towards the horizon.

As you took in the scene before you, a sense of wonder washed over you, a feeling of being transported to another world—a world where beauty and tranquility reigned supreme, and all worries melted away in the embrace of nature's splendor.

And then, as the realization dawned upon you, a lump formed in your throat, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. With trembling hands, you reached out to touch the canvas, tracing the outline of the figure with reverent fingers.

"It's you," Hyunjin whispered softly, his voice filled with awe and admiration. "I call this painting  'the most beautiful scene I've ever seen'. Does that rhyme? I think it fits"

You glanced up at him, your eyes shining with tears, but before you could respond, Hyunjin's nervous rambling continued.

"I mean, I know it's not perfect, and I'm still learning, but I wanted to capture how I see you," he babbled, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I spent so much time on it, trying to get everything just right. I hope you like it."

You couldn't find the words to express the depth of your emotions, the overwhelming gratitude and love that filled your heart. Instead, you reached out and pulled him into a tight embrace, your tears finally spilling over as you buried your face in his neck.

"I love it," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "And I love you."

Hyunjin's arms wrapped around you in return, holding you close as he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. "I love you too," he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

He sat down and pulled you onto his lap as he continued to kiss you deeply. The softness of his lips, the taste of his tongue, the warmth of his breath—it was intoxicating, and you found yourself losing yourself in the moment, the pain of your insecurities melting away as you gave yourself over to the pleasure of his touch.

Hyunjin nodded earnestly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Every time I look at you, I see beauty in its purest form."

His hands roamed your body, caressing your curves with a gentleness that made your heart race. As he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, you could feel his growing arousal pressing against you, the friction of his hardened length sending sparks of desire coursing through your veins.

"Hyunjin," you gasped, his name a plea on your lips as he began to trail kisses along your jawline, his hands deftly tugging off your clothes.

With a soft chuckle, he shifted his attention to the sensitive spot behind your ear, his teeth grazing the delicate skin there.

As the cool air hit your exposed skin, a shiver of anticipation ran through you, the sensation amplified by the feel of Hyunjin's hot breath against your neck. With each passing second, the fire of desire burned brighter within you, the need for him becoming more urgent.

As if sensing your growing desperation, Hyunjin pulled away, his gaze meeting yours with a mischievous glint. "I want to worship every inch of you," he murmured, his eyes filled with hunger and desire.

With a gentle turn and push, you found yourself falling onto the bed, your heart pounding in anticipation.

Hyunjin's fingers slowly traced the contours of your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as he teased and caressed every curve and dip.

His touch was gentle yet firm, the heat of his skin setting yours ablaze. You gasped as his hands moved lower, his fingertips teasing the sensitive flesh at the apex of your thighs.

"I love you," he said as he placed a kiss on your inner thigh. "And I promise to always remind you of just how beautiful you are."

Your breath hitched as he dipped a finger between your folds, his thumb expertly circling the bundle of nerves that sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your body.

"I love you more" you replied, your breath caught in your throat.

"Now lay back and let my tongue and fingers show you just how much you mean to me."

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[valkyrieromanoff]

JAMES KELLY IMAGINE: The mechanic and the spoiled princess

word count: 3.8k

warnings: age gap, praise, pet names (spoiled princess, little princess, good girl), mention of sex

summary: Your car breaks down for the tenth time and James is your mechanic.

a/n: After seeing many edits of this character on tiktok, I had to write something about it. I hope you like it, maybe it's not so faithful to the character ;)

After everything that had happened to his brother, James wanted to leave everything behind and start over, far away from New Orleans. And that's what he did. He gathered up all his savings and bought a one-way ticket to Portland, where he got a job as a mechanic in a workshop in the city center. It wasn't much, but he managed to rent an apartment and live comfortably without being haunted by the ghosts of his past.

It was a Sunday afternoon when you walked into the workshop where James works, and he smiled when he saw you. After all, in the four months he'd been living in the city, you must have visited the mechanic's shop about ten times.

"Hey, you, what happened this time?" James joked, raising an eyebrow as he wiped the oil off his hands with a cloth.

"Hi, uhm, my car broke down again," you said, biting your lip nervously. 

You used to show up at the garage; your parents always brought their cars in for maintenance, oil changes, or any necessary check-ups. It was a hot day; you'd chosen a flowery dress and red sneakers, your brown curls tied up in a ponytail with a ribbon, and your eyes covered by sunglasses.

James raised an eyebrow, leaned against the counter that held his tools, and crossed his arms. "Y/n, come on. It's been a month since your last visit." "What's wrong with it this time? Is it the transmission again? Or did you forget to change the oil?"

"Do I have to change the oil every month?" You asked, frowning in confusion.

He sighed and shook his head. 

"No, of course not. Do you know how to check the oil in the first place?" James asked, rolling his eyes. "I know you're young, but you should know that, at least now."

"Let me guess; you don't know how to change a tire either." He joked, leaning closer.

"I, I mean, I know how to change a tire. I've just never done it, but if I need to, I know how to do it," You said, trying to believe your own words. James narrowed his eyes and looked into yours.

"Y/n, the last time your vehicle broke down it was because you ran out of oil. You literally only need to change the oil every six months in a car. And it's very necessary for the engine." 

He sighed and pinched the tip of his nose. "How did you get your driver's license again?"

"The practical test doesn't require changing a tire or oil," You retorted, crossing your arms, making the neckline of your dress more obvious. "But I filled the tire once at the driving school"

James let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. He couldn't believe that someone as beautiful as you could be so carefree. He let his eyes roam over your body and smiled. 

"Well, I'm not exactly complaining." He joked, winking at you. He paused and shrugged. "Well, anyway, what's wrong this time? Let me guess, you ran out of gas again?" "No, I know when I need to fill up. I'm not stupid." You snorted softly, crossing your arms over your chest. "I don't know what happened; everything was fine with the car when, out of nowhere, it started making some strange noises."

James' ears perked up at these strange noises? "What kind of noises? Is it coming from the front or the back? Or is it the engine? Give me more details, and maybe I can find out." He suggested it, raising an eyebrow. "I think the noises are coming from the front." You mumbled, biting your lip. "What if I showed you the car? Wouldn't that make it easier for both of us?" He nodded, smiling, and pointed a finger at you. "I like the way you think. Show me the car, and let's see what the problem is." James replied, winking at you.

"But there is one little problem," you confessed shyly.

He raised an eyebrow, already sensing what you would say.

“What’s this little problem now?” James replied, smirking.

"Well, my car broke down at my house, so I couldn't bring it to the mechanic." You said, looking at him expectantly. "Can you help me? Please"

James sighed and let out a groan.

“Fine, fine, I’ll help you. But you know it’s gonna be at least a few hours, right? And I swear, if I have to change the oil in your car, I’m gonna choke you.” He replied, narrowing his eyes at you. He was trying to be mad, but it was obvious that you would get him to do whatever you wanted so easily. Damn that smile.

"Thanks, James; you're the best." You said, smiling excitedly.

He let out a huff and shook his head. It was obvious that he was pretending to be annoyed. He then sighed and began putting on his jacket and grabbing his keys from his pocket.

“Just come with me. I’ll drive you to your house. And try to learn how to change a damn tire while you’re there.” James replied, glaring at you. You were absolutely adorable.

"I'm sure I'll learn a lot from you." You shrugged, running to the sidewalk where James' car was parked.

You looked adorable in your sundress, red converse, and bow in your hair. Your delicate face and innocent smile remind James that she was almost half his age.

James rolled his eyes as you skipped over to his car. He thought you were absolutely beautiful. He opened the door for you and waited for you to get in. The thought of teaching a pretty girl who looked like that to be independent made his heart flutter.

After you got in the car and shut the door, James got into the front seat and drove to your house, looking at you from time to time.

"My parents are at a neurology convention or something on the other side of the state." You commented, looking out the window, your finger tracing the rain marks on the glass of the passenger window. "Can you believe they only warned me today when I called them, asking why I was home alone." You sighed, putting your head on the back of the seat.

He was a little surprised by the fact your parents left you home alone for a few days. Although you were of age, your parents always seemed so controlling and attached to you. They kind of treated you like a child, maybe because you were an only child or something.

"Oh, and I see you’re really just a little princess. Parents go on a business trip for a few days and leave little y/n here all alone. You must be helpless without them.” James teased, smirking as he looked at you from the corner of his eye.

He then focused on the road, waiting for your reaction.

"Don't be annoying; I know how to take care of myself; it's just that I would have preferred to have been warned beforehand." You retorted, your chest rising and falling as you sighed dramatically. "My parents never even let me go on school trips; it's a bit strange that they just disappear out of the blue."

James smirked and nodded, still trying to hold on to his laugh. The image of this little princess, helpless without your parents for a few days, made him want to test your limits.

“So basically, you’re saying that you haven’t had a sleepover without your parents before? Oh, that makes you even more adorable.” He teased, winking at you.

“I was always very well-behaved as a child. And well, my focus was on getting into medical school, not hidden  parties." You commented, taking off your sunglasses and biting the stem. James's breathing became tense at your movement. "Not that I didn't go to parties, I just, well, it wasn't my priority. And I kind of had a boyfriend at the time."

He let out a groan and rolled his eyes, clearly in shock.

“So you’re saying you never snuck out and went to a crazy party at 14? You didn’t have those teenage rebellious years? You weren’t grounded once for dating someone your parents didn’t approve of? Wow. You truly are a princess if you’ve led a perfect life.” He replied, looking over at you.

"I'm the good girl stereotype. I was a cheerleader, class leader, and president of the UN mock. I had better grades, and I dated the football team captain." You snorted, as if your adolescence was a long time ago, although it's only two years ago. "And well, now I'm in medical school to follow the family tradition."

James let out a low whistle, impressed by how flawless you were in every aspect. You literally were his dream girl. You were beautiful, had good grades, had a good sense of humor, and came from a successful family. You had to have some kind of flaw.

“So what’s the flaw? You can’t possibly be perfect. That would be too good to be true.” James asked, smirking. And yes, he was flirting with you. He didn't even try to hide.

"I guess I just wanted to reach adulthood. And now I realize it sucks." You muttered, looking down at your own hands resting in your lap.

James smirked, surprised to hear you curse.

“What’s wrong, princess? Can’t be a little more vulgar than that? It fits you more." James teased, smirking as he looked at you from the corner of his eye.

"My parents forbade me from swearing; I think it's still a little weird to swear out loud. It sounds wrong.” You confessed, your cheeks blushing at your honesty.

He thought it was adorable how innocent you were. It was like he was the one who corrupted you.

“Wow, so swearing is taboo in your family? I assume they don’t let you drink as well then..?” He teased again, winking at you.

"I'm 19 years old, James. You know that it's only after the age of 21 that you can legally drink here in the US." You reminded him, raising an eyebrow.

He pretended to be shocked and widened his eyes in response.

“So you mean to tell me that the spoiled little princess never snuck out and tried a sip of alcohol with her friends?” James teased, smirking at you.

He focused on the road again, waiting for your response.

"Well, I never drank. Or I went to parties in secret; in fact, my last party must have been school dances." You confessed, twirling a curl around your finger.

“You mean to tell me that you actually did have a high school love life? Damn girl, you really didn't sneak out and not tell your parents anything. You really are a good girl.” He teased, smirking. He couldn’t help but notice that his heart was beating faster the more that he teased you and made you admit to innocent things. 

"Wait, what about your high school boyfriend? Did you have to hide him from your parents?"

"It was actually my parents who introduced me to him, he was the son of one of my father's colleagues." You explained, tilting your head to look at him. "We met at a Christmas party that my parents' hospital hosts every year."

“So this boyfriend of yours was perfect, huh? I assume he was on the high school football team too, right?” He teased, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Yes, he was the team captain." You sighed, raising your eyebrow in amusement. "Am I that predictable?"

“Of course, you are precious. I’m starting to think you were probably a goody-two-shoes in high school. Not a single rule was broken. Not a single bad word was spoken. No sleepovers. No kissing the captain. Not even sneaking out to be with him.” James teased, making it very clear he was teasing.

“You were a perfect angel, weren’t you?” He smirked, leaning slightly toward you.

"We did more than just kiss, if you want to know." You retorted, your cheeks turning red at your own words.

He let out a small laugh at your words, his smile wide on his face.

“So you aren’t always innocent after all. Are you more into the ‘bad guys’ then? I thought you were the princess who only dated the captain of the team.” He teased, smirking as he waited for your response.

"Well, I only had one boyfriend," You confessed, biting your lip. "I can't say I have a lot of experience"

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by her confession. “Wait so you’ve only been with that one boyfriend? You haven't even had a few no-strings-attached snogs? You’re saying you were a good girl all this time?” He teased, nudging you. James looked out the window as he drove, waiting for your response.

"Well, I dated George since freshman year" You commented, looking at your legs, playing with the hem of your summer dress. “So, I had a boyfriend, I wasn't going to get involved with other people"

He let out a groan and sighed, not even bothering to hide his smile anymore. You were just so innocent and cute.

“So tell me, what happened with George? Did you two break up or what? Or did you finally muster the ability to break out of your good girl routine?” He teased as he looked at you from the corner of his eye.

"I am studying medicine at Harvard, while George went to Yale to study law. So, we ended up breaking up because long-distance relationships don't  work." You explained, the hem of your dress had ridden up due to the tightening of your belt. You tried to pull it down gently.

James' eyes fell on your legs, lingering longer than he should have.

“How tragic! So the spoiled princess couldn’t stand not being with her football captain boyfriend, so she broke up with him. I’m sure you must have been absolutely heartbroken.” James teased, smirking yet again. He took a small turn and focused on the road, waiting for your reaction.

"Actually, it was a bit of a relief. I don't know if I really liked George or just the idea of him. My parents wanted us to be together, and I think I just accepted that." You confessed, grabbing a gloss from your handbag to apply to your soft pink lips.

“So you’re telling me that you were so desperate for your parents’ approval that you never even thought about what you wanted? That you were willing to settle down with a college football star just because your parents wanted you to? That is such good girl behavior.” James teased, smirking at you. He noticed the application of the lip gloss and was fixated only on your lips for a good minute or so.

"You know, we were going to get married when we finished school. Now this seems so stupid, but my parents thought it was a great idea." You commented, giggling at the memory.

James rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Of course, the only child of very rich parents goes on to marry a college football star. Oh, I wonder if your parents will be satisfied with a surgeon as your husband. Or will you marry into a political family next?” He teased, looking at you with a grin. He couldn’t help but notice your full lips and the way the lip gloss made them look even more appetizing.

"I don't even know if I want to get married. My focus right now is on graduating from medicine and getting a good  job."You murmured, moving your lips together to spread the lip gloss. Before you parted your lips to check the application.

The sight of your lips and you applying the gloss was distracting him more than it should have, especially since he was driving. He tried to focus on the road, but the more his eyes wandered to your lips, the more his heart beat faster.

He cleared his throat, bringing his eyes back to the road. He looked a little flustered as his cheeks became a soft red.

“Wow, so are you saying that the princess actually has motives and aspirations other than being daddy's girl?” James teased.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his speech.

He let out an exaggerated groan, but he was still teasing.

“I swear, you’re giving me more surprises than a box of cereal. The little princess actually has aspirations of being a doctor. Wow, I never would have thought.” He teased again, looking at you again from the corner of his eye. James couldn’t help but focus on how his tone and tease seemed to have affected you, turning your cheeks a light red. He had never met anyone so innocent. It was intoxicating.

"And what are your ambitions, James? Do you intend to be a mechanic all your life?" You asked genuinely curious.

He let out a laugh and rolled his eyes.

“Me? Oh, I don’t have ambition like you, princess. I’m working my butt off on this shitty job because I couldn't afford college, and some shits happened in between.” James mocked, looking over at you, although there was some truth in his words. 

He raised an eyebrow, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“So what? Do you think I’m a loser?” He asked, waiting for your response. "For not having a fancy degree?"

You curled your lips at the amount of swear words in his sentence.

"No, I think your profession is very worthy." You stated gently. "Who would fix my car for the tenth time in a month if they didn't have you?" You retorted with a playful tone.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming in mischief as he heard your response.

“I guess it works out then, I have a princess constantly breaking her car down for me to fix. And the best part is, she’s too innocent to know how to do it herself so she has to keep coming back.” James teased, looking at you.

He felt a rush of blood going where it shouldn’t but he ignored it, refocusing on the road. What was wrong with him?

You smiled softly, looking away from the window. The journey was peaceful until you arrived at your huge and fancy house.

James pulled his car into the driveway of your house, turning off the engine. He took a deep breath, trying to control himself, when he saw the expensive-looking house. He then realized the way his heart was racing in his chest and how sweaty his palms had gotten. James shook his head, trying to clear his head, and looked at you.

“This is your house, huh? So this is where the spoiled princess calls home, huh?” He teased, smirking. His heart kept beating faster.

You rolled your eyes, opening the gate with the controller.

"Welcome to my humble home, James." You spoke, your lips curling into a mischievous smile.

He rolled his eyes again, pretending to be offended.

“Humble? Don’t you mean the Y/S manor? How modest of you to call it humble, but it does kind of remind me of a dollhouse. I wonder if this is where you play princess dress up. You even must have a pink porch!” James teased, winking at you.

"I would even invite you to my room to find out, but I think you'll be busy with the car." You retorted, with a mix of innocence and malice in your smile.

James raised an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his lips. You were going a little back and forth between being innocent and sassy. He liked it a lot. The fact that you were being playful and giving him a reaction just made him want to test his luck even more.

He stepped closer and widened his body, forcing you to lean slightly against the desk in the garage that was next to you. He stood closer than was necessary, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him.

James cleared his throat. “Oh, really?”

You parted your pink lips, your tongue sliding between them nervously. Your chest was rising and falling as your breathing became harder due to your proximity.

"Why don't you find out?" You teased him, raising your eyes to look at James.

He thought he saw a hint of lust in your eyes, and that gave him the courage to pull closer to you, his eyes becoming even more fiery. James was getting the feeling that he would be able to play with you, and you would just keep reacting the way he wanted you to.

He smirked and spoke in a low voice: “Oh, you’re challenging me, princess?”

"Only if you're willing to play." You retorted, biting your lip as you held your breath in anticipation.

James smirked, noticing you were getting impatient with him.

“Oh princess, I thought all those years as a princess you would have learned to be a little bit more patient." He teased, moving his thumb to the corner of his mouth. “Oh, and you bet I’m gonna play with my delicious little princess." He replied maliciously, winking at you.

James crashed his lips against yours, his hands squeezing your hips and pulling you closer. You closed your eyes when your lips touched. The way James' mouth moved against yours in a soft and possessive way made you gasp.

He parted his lips and deepened the kiss. One hand moved up to your waist while the other one held the back of your neck firmly. James kept you pressed against his body, feeling your warmth against him. His heart was beating even faster than before. His mind and his body were screaming for more—a lot more. His hands now trailed lower on your hips.

James felt his heart skip a beat and his chest rise. His mind was a little dizzy from your touch. He couldn’t think clearly at that moment; he could only feel you. His hands were now on your thighs and sliding up to your hips.

James was kissing your neck, biting it softly. He was getting so lost in the way your body felt under his lips and hands and in the taste of your sweet mouth. He was holding you tightly, biting down on your bottom lip, moving his hand under your sundress, kissing your neck and your ear, and whispering to you dirty words that made your cheeks blush.

James was touching the sensitive spots that were under your dress. He was getting out of his mind completely. His hands were moving quickly and passionately all over your body, touching and teasingly caressing parts that he wasn't supposed to.

But who could blame him? How could James resist the little princess, who had a crush on the mechanic?

[royalsunshinehotel]

Love and appreciate your Dev content!! Would you consider writing more monkey man kid x reader - maybe something where he praises and talks the reader through it, starting gentle and then figuring out he can be rougher because reader likes it that way. He would start out wincing through the pain caused by his fighting, but eventually forget about that. Praise/dominance part inspired by him saying "good girl, do you like that?" to the dog in the film 🥵

Good (Kid x Reader, drabble, 18+)

He thinks you're adorable. It's a part of why he keeps coming back to see you. You'd do the same, if you knew anything about him.

But for now, you don't need to know. He's come to you after a rough night at the Temple, and what started as you putting his pieces back together, has once again ended with you, flat on your back.

You'd always gotten the sense that he was being careful with you, whenever he worked you open for him, feeling his mouth on the most sensitive parts of you. It always felt as if he was holding back.

A small knot of guilt twisted in your belly, you know.

You know he's in pain, and he's fucking you anyway. He should be convalescing on your couch, not ....whatever this is.

He hits a new angle and you gasp into his mouth, foreheads pressed together. He doesn't have to hold back...

"Harder," You all but whimper into his mouth, "I want it harder."

The words make him pause, large brown eyes staring into your own. Whoever he was, he saw right through you, even now.

His shoulder stopped hurting a long time ago, and he'd even go as far to say he was enjoying himself, enjoying you.

"Harder?" He confirms, "Like that?" He catches your moan with his mouth, after snapping his hips down into you. It was experimental, if you said "never mind", he'd forget it.

You think it's pathetic, how your eyes practically roll back. The effect he has on you is embarrassing.

He on the other hand, thinks you're lovely. You have to be an angel, floating into his life, trying to heal him, trusting him even though you have no reason to. It occurs to him that there will be a day he'd have to give you up.

Not yet, he thinks.

"Yes..." You trail off, "more please!" He chuckles lightly at how polite you were, even now. And he continues with a harsher pace, a tighter grip.

Your hand finds his, and moves it to your throat. His eyes go round at that, as he takes a comfortable grip. Alright...

Your wail comes out stifled against his mouth, as he tries to soothe you against the harsh pleasure of him, "Good...good girl, there we are..."

He bats his wet eyes at you, and suddenly your breath escapes you. You clamp down around him, clawing at your lover, "Always so good to me, that's it."

You're beautiful, and worn out. You smile sleepily into his mouth, fluttering, as you let him chase relief for himself.

[adnauseum11]

Mess Hall (John Price x Reader)

John explains his early departure from poker night to you.

1.8k words

CW: swearing, explicit sex (MDNI)

second part of the two-part scene

feedback welcome! writing smut is hard (lol) if anyone has any tips I'm grateful for them. Always looking to get better so don't be shy :)

Dinner was not edible, to John’s lasting amusement. The veggies cooked at disparate times, some too mushy and some practically raw. The pasta had been fine, John’s contribution solid as always. The flavour of the sauce had been the real star, if one didn’t mind the shrapnel you had introduced to it. Both of you had decided after half a bowl each that it was more work than it was worth. Your real dinner ended up being the world’s saddest charcuterie board, but John assured you he’d made do with worse. 

“Just happy to be eating.” He said, brushing off your concerns about him going hungry. 

“We could go to the pub.” You pick at the salami, perched on one foot tucked under you on a chair at the table.

“I just want to be with you, not up for the pub if that’s alright, love.” John’s honesty takes you by surprise, you glance at him but he seems otherwise content, building cheese and pickle onto a cracker.

“Yeah, of course that’s alright. You want to tell me what happened?” You ask carefully, not wanting to call back his bad mood but curious what brought him to your doorstep now that he seems a bit more even keeled. He stuffs the food into his mouth and chews thoughtfully, looking at you from under his lashes. It’s the most indecisive you’ve seen him in a long time and you wonder suddenly if you want to know at all. Then he sighs and pushes his plate away, seemingly deciding something.

“I was offered a contract. Walk on, ready to go.”

Your lungs freeze, and you forget how to breath for a moment. Your focus narrows onto the man beside you, who is closely watching for your reaction. The question must have been written across your face because he answers without it needing to be spoken aloud.

“I told them no, love.”

“Oh, thank god.” You say in a rush, your lungs sucking in a breath desperately. You can’t help the selfish sentiment, reflexive as blinking. Your hand lands on your chest as if trying to keep your heart contained. John watches you, a soft smugness pulling at his features. 

“Good to know you want me around, darling.” 

“I always want you around, John.” The bald truth is out before you can temper it with humour.

If anyone had told you a year ago that you would be dating your oldest friend and making heartfelt confessions in your kitchen over a crappy dinner, you would have thought them crazy. But here you are, a mere few months into this with your heart in your throat at the thought of him leaving for any length of time. What used to be routine seems devastating now.

“Is that…are you upset you said no?” You ask cautiously, breaking the intense eye contact to pick at your plate.

“What? No, they wouldn’t take no for an answer. Can’t play cards being badgered like that. They ought to know better.”

Relief that you aren’t the root cause of the bad mood floods through your system, making you bolder.

“You are incredibly stubborn. One ‘no’ should be enough.” You agree, earning yourself a dark look. You smile sweetly at him and reach across the expanse between your seats to cup his cheek, leaning in to his space to press a soft kiss to his frown. 

His big palm slides up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place when you would retreat. He deepens the kiss before you can move, his fingers sliding into your scalp with delicious pressure. When he finally releases you, instead of backing off you follow, slipping out of your seat and crawling onto John’s lap, his thick thighs spread wide. He accepts your weight without even blinking, shifting you into a more comfortable position before fisting his hand in your hair and kissing you again. The delectable rasp of his tongue against yours makes liquid heat pool in your lower belly. You’re suddenly desperate to feel his skin pressing against yours, your smaller hands grabbing at his sides and shoulders.

Your urgency seems to bleed into him, his fingers finding the hem of your shirt and tugging it up your back, pausing only for you to lift your arms before he’s pulling it free from your body and throwing it on the floor. You mimic his actions, pushing his shirt up to reveal the thickness of his chest. He grabs the fabric and tugs and it joins a growing pile of clothing. The dark wiry hair of his body whispers against your delicate skin, sending lightning bolts of desire through you, eager to be pressed against his heat. 

Without any warning John is shoving the plates out of the way, the clanking tableware startling you out of your lust driven haze. Before you can speak, he’s lifted you, depositing you on the cleared space of the table with a gentle tinkle as glass knocks together. You look up at him wide-eyed but his intense blue eyes are darkened with desire and locked on your bra, his fingers moving faster than your brain can catch up. The look in his eyes and the cool air has your nipples pebbling, biting your bottom lip as he leans into your space and kisses you again. You have a vague notion of him throwing the piece of clothing, in the next heartbeat both of his hands are on you, urging you to recline backwards. 

John’s hot mouth trails over your collarbone and sternum as you recline, your fingers curling into his short sandy brown hair. The wet pull of his mouth on your nipple has you gasping, arching into him. His hands have dropped from your sides to your abdomen, flicking your jeans open with hurried movements. He pauses long enough to cup your mound, the heat of your body making him groan low in his throat. 

“Fuckin’ hell love” 

His voice has slipped down an octave, desire making his cheeks and chest flush under his dark hair. Your body has a pavlovian response to his, anticipation spiralling through your limbs. When his fingers curl in your jeans and panties, you lift up automatically, using his thighs to balance as he tugs the clothing free of your body. 

He’s back on you as soon as the clothing leaves his hand, fingers tracing up your calves and thighs, making room for himself between them while his mouth blazes a trail over your ribs to the delicate underside of your breast. His whiskers dragging across your skin make you gasp and twitch, the tableware clinking together by your head with each sudden movement. When the wet heat of his mouth closes over your nipple again you moan, fingers pressing into the back of John’s neck to keep him in place. You can feel the backs of his fingers grazing against your low belly as he’s undoing his pants, twisting and pulling something out of his back pocket.

“John, let me.” You try to sit up but he won’t allow it, rasping his teeth over your nipple, making you suck in a breath and squirm underneath him. He releases your flesh with an obscene ‘pop’ and a smug smile slides across his face. 

“Too late, next time.” His voice is a rumble, one hand fisted around the condom on the base of his hard cock and the other landing on your chest, keeping you pinned to the table and spread out for his viewing pleasure. The slow back and forth glide of the head of his cock over the seam of your pussy makes you groan and hook your heels into the back of John’s thighs. Your hands curl around his forearm, your nails biting into his flesh as he presses into you slowly, eyes locked on your face.

The heat of John’s palm on your sternum makes you aware of how fast your heart is beating against it. Your rattling moan spurs John on, the rocking thrusts of his hips making the dishes dance by your head. The obscene symphony sends shockwaves of sensation up and down your spine, making you squirm as you clutch at his arm.

John hisses a curse, followed by your name and you can feel the muscles of his arm fluttering under your grip. The world narrows to just the two of you, John rocking you and the contents of the table with his thrusts, gripping your hip to steady you under his body. You can feel your body start to pull taut, your orgasm building in pressure and a whine climbing the back of your throat as your senses start to overwhelm. 

John slides his hand off your chest to hunch over you, putting his full weight behind his thrusts. He drops close enough to run his open mouth over your collarbone, panting hot breath against your skin. The increased pressure and change in angle make you clench around him, wrenching a low moan from his chest. The tableware crashes in time with your movements.

“John, please.” You’re begging mindlessly, wrapping your thighs high on his hips, your legs trembling. 

“You make me crazy when you say my name like that.” John rumbles into your ear, giving you what you want and sliding his thumb over your clit in small circles. It only takes a handful more thrusts before you’re reaching your peak.

Your orgasm overtakes you and you claw at the back of his neck and shoulder with your nails, desperate to ground yourself. Your keening cry bounces off the walls of the kitchen as your body clamps down on his, bucking underneath him. The throbbing grip of your inner muscles is enough to drag John down with you, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he cums hard, his cock pulsing inside you. He groans deeply, his grip on your body bordering on bruising as you both slowly come down and try to regulate your breathing.

“Holy fuck John” You whimper, aftershocks making you tremble and grab at his arms as he leans back, easing out of your oversensitive flesh with a hiss. His palms are stroking over your body, cataloging the shape of you, soothing both of your nervous systems before stepping back. He disposes of the condom in the trash and is back between your legs, giving orders like he never left. 

“Legs around my waist darling. Good girl. Up we go.” He’s gathered you against his chest and is hefting you off the table before you can process. Your brain finally catches up and you clamp your thighs around his waist tighter, your arms slung around his neck, hanging off of him like a burr. You trust him implicitly, doing as you're told, your brain still too gooey to do its own processing.

John checks the lock on your front door before carrying you upstairs to your bedroom. Both of you are too exhausted to give a shit about the state of the kitchen at the moment, curling together in your smaller bed. You try not to focus too hard on how suspiciously tight your chest feels when he spoons you, face buried in your hair with a contented sigh. 

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos @syoddeye @cadotoast

[tayytae]

You should do one where bill fuckes a Freader and overstimulates her cause he’s so sexually frustrated till she uses a safe word and then he takes care of her like a princess 🫶 I love your writing you just might be my new fav writer 🧏‍♂️ if your not comfortable you defs don’t have to do it <3

AW THANK UUU!!?? I LOVE U

“Melody of Frustration”

Synopsis: Bill, who comes home angry after a disappointing band practice where he kept messing up his singing. His bandmates' teasing adds to his frustration, leading him to take his anger out on his girlfriend..

BRO IK THIS ISNT EXACTLY WHAT U WANTED- BUT I REALLT NEED TO PIST I FEEL BAD (NOT PROOF READ)

Bill stormed into the house, his face flushed with anger and frustration. He had just come from a disastrous band practice where his singing had been off-key and filled with mistakes. To make matters worse, his bandmates had teased him mercilessly, poking fun at his missed notes and laughing at his expense.

As soon as he entered the living room, he saw his girlfriend sitting on the couch, reading a book.

“Hey," I greeted him with a smile, unaware of his mood.

Bill scowled and tossed his shoes off and onto the floor. "Don't 'hey' me," he snapped, his voice sharp with irritation.

I looked up, surprised by his tone. "What's wrong, Bill?"

He paced back and forth, running a hand through his hair. "Everything's wrong! I can't believe how awful I sounded at practice, and then those idiots won't let me forget it."

I frowned, concern clouding my features. "I'm sorry, babe. That sounds really tough."

"You have no idea," Bill muttered, still seething with anger.

Suddenly, without thinking, he lashed out at me. "And what are you doing just sitting there? Why don't you ever understand how I feel?!"

I recoiled slightly, hurt evident in her eyes. "I do understand, Bill. I'm here for you, always."

He immediately regretted his harsh words, realizing he had unfairly taken his anger out on the person who cared about him the most. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just so frustrated."

I nodded, a small smile returning to my face. "It's okay, Bill. We all have our moments. But remember, I'm on your side no matter what."

Bill took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "I know, and I'm grateful for that. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

I reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "You don't have to make it up to me, Bill. Just know that I'm here to support you, even on your bad days."

Bill looks at you with teary eyes, his expression full of gratitude and love. "Thank you, love. That means everything to me. I don't deserve you." He leans in and presses his lips against yours gently. "I'm lucky to have you in my life."

I felt Bill’s hands grab me by the waist and pull me closer, then trailed his hands down to my ass. I let out a slight moan as our kiss continued to grow more rough and demanding.

Feeling my body respond to his touch, Bill deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth as his hands squeeze my ass firmly. "God, I want you so fucking bad,"

“Gonna make it up to you love, I promise..” Bill said, just above a whisper as he removed his lips and attached them to my neck.

Bill trails kisses down my neck, nipping at my skin lightly as his hands roam up my body, reaching for the hem of my shirt. He pulls it up over my head, revealing my bare chest and gasps at the sight. "You're absolutely breathtaking, my love."

I covered myself with my arms, a bit embarrassed and shyness of my body takes over; despite Bill’s compliment. Bill notices my hesitation and immediately pulls my hands away from my body, holding them gently in his. "No, don't hide yourself from me, love. You're perfect in every way. I want to see all of you, but only if you're comfortable."

I nod and then glance up at his towering figure, “Please.. I need you.”

Bill's eyes darken with desire as he takes in my words. "Thank god, because I need you too." He swiftly removes his own shirt, revealing his toned chest and abs, before moving his hands to my pants. "May I?"

I nodded again, my eyes watching his movements intensely as i felt my legs get hotter. Bill slowly undoes my pants, sliding them down my legs along with my underwear until i’m standing in front of him completely naked.

“Fuck, you're gorgeous." He leans down and presses a kiss to your stomach, causing you to shiver at the sensation.

With a swift motion, Bill carefully lays me down on the couch, his eyes drinking in every inch of my body as he kneels between my legs. "You're so fucking beautiful." He leans down and presses a kiss to your inner thigh, causing me to gasp at the sensation.

“Oh, bill-“ I couldn’t finish my sentence as I felt his lips suck my clit. My hands gripping his hair as I throw my head back in pleasure.

Bill smirks against my skin, his tongue swirling circles around my clit as he sucks gently. He uses his fingers to tease my entrance, occasionally sliding a finger inside to prepare me for what's to come. "You taste so fucking good, love. Better than I even imagined."

Bill groans against my skin at the feeling of my thighs tightening around his face, the vibrations only adding to my pleasure as he continues to suck and tease my clit with his tongue. "Mmm fuck, you're so fucking wet. And for me, all mine."

I’ve been occasionally moaning, but at this rate im whimpering and letting out loud moans as his fingers move faster in me, curling them to my g-spot with such good memory.

Bill smirks against my skin, his fingers moving faster and faster inside of me as he continues to suck and lick at my clit, his memory serving him well as he expertly curls his fingers to hit your g-spot. "Fuck, come for me beautiful.”

I clenched around his digits as I let out a loud moan, my white juice coating his fingers.

Bill's smirk widens as he pulls his fingers out of me, watching as my white juice coats his fingers. He brings them up to his mouth and sucks them clean, his eyes never leaving yours as he savors the taste. "Mhm- you taste amazing.”

I glance up at him with tired eyes, before bill quickly unbottons his pants and pulls down his jeans; along with his boxers.

Bill's cock springs free, already hard and ready for me. He steps out of his pants and boxers before climbing back onto the couch with me, positioning himself between my legs. "Do you want me to fuck you, baby?"

I nod as I wrap my legs around him, “Fuck Bill, I would want nothing more.” my red cheeks becoming more noticeable as I smile slightly.

Bill lines himself up with my entrance before slowly pushing inside of me, giving a low groan at the feeling of my tightness surrounding him. "Fuck, you always feel so good. But right now, I need to fuck you hard and fast.”

At that moment, Bill speeds up his pace and fucks me dumb. My face completely twists as I feel every inch of him in me. “Mm- Bill!” I moaned, my hands resting on his chest as he takes me rough.

Bill grips onto my hips, pulling me against him with each thrust as he fucks me hard and fast. He watches as my face contorts with pleasure, the moans that leave my lips driving him wild. "God damn, you're so fucking tight. You wasting my cock like that?"

I nod, moans and whimpers leaving my mouth. His name being repeated and repeated, as if it’s the only word i’d ever known.

Bill groans as he feels me starting to tighten around his cock, my moans and whimpers driving him even closer to the edge. He speeds up his pace, fucking me even harder and faster as he feels himself getting closer. "I'm gonna cum, baby. Cum with me."

As if I could tell the future, my juices cover his dick and a ring appears at the bottom of his cock. A loud moan escapes my mouth as I gripped onto his shoulders.

Feeling me tighten around him and my juices coating his cock sends Bill over the edge. He groans loudly as he releases himself inside of me, the ring at the bottom of his cock pulsing as he fills me with his release. "Fuck, baby..”

Bill's breathing is heavy as he collapses on top of me, his sweaty forehead pressed against mine. He pant from the intense orgasm that just ran through him and rest his weight on me. "Shit, babe..”

“Y-You still mad..?” I panted through my heavy breathing.

Bill chuckles and tilts his head to press a soft kiss on my lips before answering. "No, I'm not mad anymore. That dumbass band practice just had me heated, but seeing you like this... It takes all the anger away and just leaves me wanting to give you more..”

I nod, Bill leaning over and kissing the top of my head.

“Round 2?..”

—

BYE BRO I LOVE THIS LOWKKKKK

Ok so like i havent posted ina minute.. so idk

[cinnamon-stheater]

MizuEna - 𐙚˙⋆.˚Infinitely Colorful ₊🖌⊹♡

SORRY THIS WAS SO LATE !!! the ask came like october 13th and i was like "huh i have no motivation. let's publish it NOW instead" anyway established relationship mizuena !! they're already girlfriends :DD something fluffy for your eyes after mizu5 (i started writing this like right after it came out so. yeah) i used they/them pronouns for mizuki !! might end up switching to she/they sometime but also i'm not that practiced in writing characters with two different pronouns so uh. the switch might be a little hard :<< warning: this was written by somebody who does not know ANYTHING about makeup. deepest apologies if you tear out your hair while reading ^ person who looked up headcanons and cosplays to figure out what to do for makeup enjoy the show !! ☆彡

Three brief knocks rapped against the front door of the Shinonome's house, almost drowned out by the Nightcord music Ena had blasting in her earbuds. It wasn't her fault Kanade and Mafuyu were such good composers.

"Oi, Akiyama's here," Akito called from outside Ena's room. The music didn't drown out his voice, unfortunately. "You should let them inside."

"I know," Ena retorted, pausing Lower One's Eyes and ripping out her earbuds. "I'm going right now." She knew that Mizuki usually just went upstairs to her room by themself though, so when she opened the door she wasn't surprised to be met with a pair of pale pink eyes shadowed by long eyelashes.

"Hi Ena!" Mizuki greeted cheerfully, having let themself inside the house. (How, Ena had no idea. Maybe she'd left the door unlocked when she tried going outside for better cell service earlier that day.) Mizuki had also kind of invited themself over - Ena had tried to object that she was busy with art projects and homework, but to be honest, she was really tired, and she knew herself well enough to know that she wasn't going to spend the long weekend they had doing homework. So why not spend it with Mizuki instead?

"Hi Mizuki," Ena smiled, letting them in. "You didn't bring as much as I was expecting." Her mind flashed back to the last sleepover they had, when Ena had trouble fitting Mizuki's stuff through the door. This time though, the other had only brought a single, large duffel bag. "Are you sure you didn't forget anything?"

"I don't forget things like you, Ena," Mizuki replied with a teasing grin.

"Hold on. Who was the one that didn't bring the makeup over last time?"

"Aah, I guess you're right. I brought it over this time though!" Mizuki fished out a cute pink makeup bag from their duffel bag, holding it up for Ena to see.

"That's great," said Ena happily. "Let's get started! I was thinking we could go for this look.."

The two chatted eagerly as they made themselves comfortable on the soft, plush cushions on Ena's bedroom floor. Mizuki started with Ena's makeup, their makeup bag and some other things they'd shoved in their duffel bag last minute strewn across the diamond-patterned rug. Their hand found Ena's as they patted blush on her cheeks.

"Hehe, you don't even need blush with how red your cheeks are already," Mizuki teased.

Ena flushed even harder, considering slapping Mizuki in the face. "Shut up!"

Mizuki's hand felt cold in hers as her girlfriend leaned in for the details in her eyeshadow. How did she fall in love with this person again?

"What color do you want your lips?" Mizuki brought out a few lipsticks from their makeup bag, all different shades of pink and red. Ena had hers in a pile on the floor beside them, with colors she didn't think she'd ever used.

"Surprise me," she decided after a moment of thought.

"Ooh, brave are we?" Mizuki reached out a hand to gently press on Ena's eyelids. "Close your eyes then!"

Ena felt a cold stick trailing over her lips, and her mind raced to try and find out which color Mizuki had chosen. Red? No, Mizuki wouldn't have been that bold. Hot pink? That wasn't right either. Mizuki surprisingly had doubts with that color. They'd mentioned it briefly on a Nightcord call once, Ena remembered. She also couldn't see Mizuki choosing any other color that wasn't in the red-pink shades either, like green or blue. Most of those didn't look right on her.

Meaning that it had to be...

"Done!" Mizuki declared happily. "Open your eyes!"

In the mirror Mizuki handed her, Ena's reflection blinked back at her, its eyes widening. A gentle pink was layered over Ena's lips, not too bright, just noticeable enough that someone glancing over wouldn't be able to tell but another gazing at her would. It was almost like a whispered wish, a wisp of cloud at dawn, a tiny brushstroke painting a flower petal.

It was what she'd expected the color would be. She smiled softly.

"It's great," she said, her heart lighter than a ribbon. "Now I'll do your makeup!"

Mizuki nodded in agreement. "Okay!"

Ena put a hand on her chin. How should she do this? Mizuki wore makeup on a regular basis - usually easier and basic things, like foundation and eyeliner, not too extreme. Ena didn't want to pile on makeup, but... she wanted to do something different. Something that would stand out, but only to someone that knew Mizuki. Only to her.

As an artist, Ena had spent most of her life studying things. Not academic wise, that was Mafuyu - studying how things would look on canvases. If she were to paint a scene of the city, how would she make the sky stand out or blend in? How would she make sure the tiny strokes of fur on wolves were visible or if they were just another wolf in the crowd? She almost laughed to herself. All these things where the answers came easily to her, and she had absolutely no idea where to begin on the beautiful, blank canvas of Mizuki's face.

Something that stands out. With the thought in her head, she began her work.

Mizuki usually didn't bother with eyeshadow - if anything, it was only the lightest pink. Ena wanted to stay true to that, while still adding a special flair. She brushed on a thin layer of pink, then added a second layer of lavender reaching from the ends to a blended halfway point on the eyelid. It almost reminded Ena of twilight.

She grinned. Now for the other eye.

"Hey Ena," Mizuki chattered. "Do you have any outfits planned for dress-up later? How should we do our hair? Do you have any movie recommendations? Because I do! What about -"

"Mizuki, stop moving!" Ena said indignantly. "Hold still." She reached out to rest her fingers on Mizuki's cheek, trying to steady their head. Mizuki fell silent instantly, their body still. The silence dragged on until Ena finally finished their eyeshadow, leaning back to survey her work, her hand slipping down to her side.

"Done!" she declared proudly before glancing down to the floor. "Hold on, I forgot the blush.."

She found the blush beside her leg, flicking it open and taking the already pink-pad out. When she looked up, however, Mizuki was struggling to meet her eyes. She paused, frowning, the pad of blush halfway to Mizuki's already bright face.

"What?" she asked with a small frown of confusion.

"E-eh?! Nothing!" Mizuki stammered for a bit, regaining their composure. Their cheeks slowly faded to their normal color. "Carry on, Ena!"

Ena didn't press further, instead opting to finish Mizuki's makeup. Lipstick wasn't that much of a problem since Mizuki usually used lip gloss, but it still took her a moment to think about. She settled on red, not too bright and softer around the edges. She finished off with a small touch of mascara.

"And.. done!" She set the mascara down and handed Mizuki the mirror, scooting over beside Mizuki to look in it as well.

"Wow, Ena! I look so cute~" A reflection of Mizuki's smile grinned at Ena in the mirror, and there was an involuntary tug at the corner of her lips. She rested her head on Mizuki's shoulder, savoring the warmth that radiated from her girlfriend.

"Yeah, you do," Ena breathed.

They stayed like that for a while, Ena's head on Mizuki's shoulder, Mizuki's head on hers, sharing in one another's presence. Every muscle in Ena's body relaxed, her worries and struggles fading from her mind. With her hand tight in Mizuki's, and their other arm wrapped around her shoulders, a blanket of comfort enfolded the two in a seemingly infinitely colorful tranquility. If only time could stop...

"Hmm.. wanna change into our pajamas now? Then we can draw each other!" Mizuki suggested excitedly. "And after that, we can play board games.. ooh, maybe we can bake something as well!"

"Hah? It's going to take all night to do all of that!"

Mizuki laughed. "It isn't a sleepover party if you don't keep going until you fall asleep!"

"Hold on, I think I've heard that somewhere before.."

"Haha, really~?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was supposed to be a little (lot) longer and they were supposed to do all the things Mizuki mentioned above, but I'd already not posted for a (really) long while and thought this was good enough :')) I'm not getting bored of it but it was hard to write for some reason ?? I'll try to do mizuena justice sometime... *cries*

Hope you enjoyed the show !!☆彡 Curtains closing~

[sugoi-writes]

Suck It Up, Buttercup

Husk x GN!Reader Drabble

Haha-- It's the voice. The accent. DON'T JUDGE-- (No warnings, minus drinking mentions. Pure fluff!)

I miiiight turn this into a thing with multiple characters... a 'surprise kiss!' scenario with each of the main cast, just to practice writing for others. (I did similar things with KNY not too long ago). Not that I don't love Alastor, but I should try to mix things up a bit! If yall like this, let me know who you'd like to see next. Oh, and of course: please enjoy~

♥️♣️♦️

You groaned as you nursed your drink, cheek lazily smushed against the wood grain of the counter.

"Ughhnn.. shit, I passed out, didn't I?" You wince in pain from your throbbing headache, your vision slowly stabilizing as you took in your surroundings. Husk hums in agreement, coming out from behind the bar to your side.

" 'Sure did. C'mon, Buttercup. It's time to get you to bed." You whined, your flushed face giving away your drunken state," One more drink? Pleeeease..." Husk sighs, shrugging," A'ight, but it's probably a lil' too hard for ya." You stick your tongue out at him playfully, making him smile and shrug, both hands shooting up in his defense," Don't say I didn't try to warn ya..."

You felt your cheek press further into your eye as you watched Husk with a smile. You didnt bother to lift your head as you observed his movements. Quick, effortless, and cunning... despite his nihilist attitude, he always moved with a purpose while mixing drinks. He moved in ways that made what he was doing even more impressive to watch.

Once he was done, Husk made a big deal of sliding this 'concotion' towards you, your glass sporting a succulent lemon wedge on the rim. You felt a surge of energy enter you as you hastily took a gulp, before your expression soured.

"Water....? Husk, you said--!"

"Y'said to make you somethin' that'd make you forget somethin' else. That headache, for example," the cat demon chastised, before leaning forward," And you're gonna drink every last gulp before you carry your ass to bed. Got it?"

You groan again, rolling your eyes," Only if you'll carry me there~" You teased, shimming your shoulders. Husk narrows his gaze at you, his fur around his neck bristling," I ain't some powdered prince, y'know... and I don't do shit for free."

You sigh dramatically, leaning backward and arching your back over the counter," Ohhh, woe is me! I was convinced I finally found my knight in shining armor~!" At this, Husk snorts, leaning on his elbows and looming above you, his face hovering just above yours. For a moment, the two of you shared a laugh, then it grew stagnant... and then, there was a moment when you stared at one another, waiting for someone to move or say something. The tension that lingered felt heavy on your chest, as you felt your throat run dry. You open your parched lips slightly to say something, but your phrase died on your tongue, unable to leave.

Husk sighs, leaning down to kiss you gently on the forehead, officially breaking the silence.

"You're lucky you're a'ight to be around, otherwise I wouldn't be doin' this shit..." You barely had time to recover, your eyes wide with disbelief. Your fingertips ghosted over the pecked spot on your forehead, as if to replicate the feeling... before you felt yourself being lifted up. You fumble about in Husk's arms, clinging desperately to his chest. You were surprised with long, soft fur, a small mass easily being gripped and held in your trembling hands.

"O-Oh fuck I was-- I was jokin', Husk-- you can put me down!"

"An' risk you passin' out at my bar again? Fat chance..." A comfortable silence falls upon you both, and you can't help but lean into the cradle that Husk created for you. He was warn... exceedingly so. His breathing was slow, even, despite having to heave you around. You were surprised with how strong he was, not taking him to be the burly type. But all the same, it comforted you, and you swore that you heard a very subtle, deep purr as you smoothed your hand across his silken chest fluff.

It wouldn't be long until you've passed out again, head bobbing rhythmically as he brings you to your room. The stoic demon is careful when setting you down and tucking you in, a flash of sincerity crossing his stern features. He can't help the tired chuckle that slips out, leaning down to kiss your forehead again. A hand runs carefully across your crown, smoothing your hair back against your pillow, creating a halo around your sleeping face.

" ...'Night, Buttercup. I'll see you in the mornin'."

[luminouslywriting]

Ok weird request, Bob headcannons them getting hard and moaning by accident while your not in a relathionship, things can escalate from there or not ,obviously if you don't feel comfortable writing this that's totally fine.

Oh Nonny this one was delightfully wicked and so fun haha! As always, enjoy and reminder that my requests are open! Feel free to spam me as much as you'd like haha! I'm taking the day off and lounging by the pool to help me feel better so I'm pretty pleased with that!

More under the cut, cut for length, spice under the cut:

Dick Winters:

-Mortified to the max

-Like this man is a blushing upset mess and apologizing and stammering out how it was an accident

-Will not look you in the eyes for several days or weeks, depending on how loud the moan was haha

-Probably tells Nixon about it because he's so embarrassed and Nixon teases him about it

-This is not going to help him in his feelings for you and is going to be something that he wants to genuinely forget and hope that you forget.

-Though if you thought it was hot and admit it to him, he'll be super flattered and will definitely finally make a move.

Lewis Nixon:

-Probably drunk when he does it and not as embarrassed as he should be?? The thing about him is that he knew he was drunk and it was a normal human response

-He'll definitely apologize when he sobers up about things but it's not a weird point between the two of you

-Might even attempt to get himself soberly locked in the closet with you so that he can do it again sober

-And at that point, handsy makeout session that absolutely ends in someone walking in on the two of you

-But at least you two get together by the end of it??

Ronald Speirs:

-Internally embarrassed and feeling like the WORST, externally really chill about it as you reassure him that it's perfectly normal and fine

-He definitely overthinks and hyperfixates on this for WAY too long and is trying to figure out if he actually likes you or if he's just physically attracted to you

-But when he finally figures it out, it's this really simple statement about how it's not just a physical reaction and how he really likes you

-This might result in locking yourselves in the nearest bedroom and figuring out how to make more of those pretty moans that you heard haha

-Turns out, you're just as in love with him as he is with you and he's perfectly pleased with that

-Wonders what would've happened if he had actually figured it out sooner because he's really happy with you

Buck Compton:

-Stammering an apology and blushing

-Will absolutely need some space so he can recover his pride and not be super embarrassed or a wreck around you

-Probably writes out an apology to you because he doesn't want you to feel weird around him

-Then further writes a little letter about how he actually feels and you find said letter by mistake

-So if you go up and kiss him, then all will work out on its own haha

-Happy if it all works out in the end

Carwood Lipton:

-Immediate apologies and avoiding eye contact. He knows he's messed up somehow and he is NOT the type to do that to a lady.

-It will take you approaching him about the situation and about your feelings for him to actually make a move.

-Even then, he's super shy about the moaning and feels embarrassed whenever it happens.

-Keep practicing with him though, he'll get more comfortable being vocal haha

-Or purposely try to tease him in public and he'll figure out what works for him REAL quick, I promise haha

-Either way, he's consistently embarrassed about it throughout your relationship whenever it happens though

Joseph Liebgott:

-Let's say for the sake of his personality, this was intentional on your part because he hadn't made a move yet. So whatever sort of teasing that you did to make it happen, he's just gonna roll with it.

-Initially a little embarrassed but it fades quickly

-This turns into the world's fastest makeout session with the both of you getting handsy

-Public teasing for the two of you? Absolutely a fact of matter in your newfound relationship

-Don't worry, he fully intends on getting you back for the fact that you technically made the first move in the relationship—and you'll get your dues in full honey

-Never shy about his moaning or the fact that he's hard—he will tell you and he will expect to have it taken care of post-haste haha

Donald Malarkey:

-Swearing up a panicked storm about it because NO, FOUL, it was an accident

-Requires a whole 48 hours of space because he's literally so embarrassed and not having it with you

-Also comes back to you and admits that there's only one person he wants to have him help take care of things and it's you

-It might be the weirdest sweetest thing you've ever heard??

-But I digress—he is NOT into teasing in any way, but any sort of physical contact he can have with you is a turn on for him.

-Clingy king to the max after this

Eugene Roe:

-French swears, French swears, French swears, mortification, feeling a little humbled lol

-Apologizes very quickly and tries to get space

-But if you grab his arm and kiss him, he loses all track of where his mindset was and not a single brain cell will be present

-Offer to take care of things for him—he'll probably tell you that he loves you in the middle of it

-And then he'll insist on taking care of YOU at that point

-This absolutely turns into soft and sweet sex with doc haha

Bill Guarnere:

-Also swears and feels super bad about it because he doesn't want you to feel like you HAVE to do anything with him

-Locate this man immediately and find a nice wall that you can talk near, because that wall is about to become the only thing holding you up lol

-Listen, if you admit that you didn't mind and that you were also turned on by what he did, he's going to go FERAL

-I'm talking holding your hands above you head as he kisses you and trying to keep the both of you quiet because he's got a LOT of feelings

-Is a pretty vocal guy so you might have to wait for some actual alone time before anything gets taken care of or done haha

-Either way, you two end up together pretty quickly

Joe Toye:

-Apologizes, removes himself from the situation, tries not to think about it ever again

-Thinks about it WAY TOO much though and ends up trying to take care of things himself for a while

-Until he decides that it's just not gonna work and he can't do it without you....

-At which point, he locates you, admits how he's feeling, and says that he hopes to have some time alone with you soon

-Still tries to make things really romantic between the two of you and special

-Consistently dreams about you until you get together, and then he's much worse haha

George Luz:

-This sweet loudmouth lets that moan slip and he knows immediately that he's colossally messed up

-But uh, in the event you're not bothered by that, he's going to be even more turned on and vocal

-This quickly descends into sex for the two of you

-But you're not together together yet?? So it requires some conversations afterwards for it to turn into a relationship

-He's still trying to figure out his feelings and you might be the person to say that you love him first

-At that point, he's so enamored and committed to you that it's a win-win situation haha

[lokavisi]

So about two nights ago, I had a really solid conversation with Loki. A friend got some cues from him through their pendulum, we were both very confused, and then my wife (who barely gives a shit about the Guy lol) interprets this message so pristinely. It was like getting slapped upside the head when she gave her explanation. So I started free writing to continue the conversation more directly with Loki. There were a few big points made in this conversation.

First, he expressed frustration that, in spite of working with him for 4 years now, I still don't seem to "get" him. Like I keep coming to him to vent about some bullshit that's winding me up, he offers a suggestion to help me unwind, and then I brush it off or forget or just straight up ignore it. So he was like, "I've been telling you the same shit for 4 years now... It feels like you're just fundamentally ignoring all the parts of me that make me, ME." So...naturally I felt really fucking stupid and shitty.

Then he very lovingly affirmed that "this isn't me being facetious or angry or trying to put you down. I'm frustrated and irritated, yes, but surely you do realize by now that I fucking love you and you're stuck with me." This meant a lot to me more so than it might for others because my ADHD comes with mad rejection sensitivity dysphoria. Any time anyone says something that indicates some level of upset at me, my brain catastrophizes and breaks down because "clearly" it means they hate me. (This is basically never the case.) This leads me to the primary nugget of wisdom that came from this conversation.

I realized this whole time (once my wife interpreted the initial message) I was hearing him more clearly than I had in a long time. It was nearly as if a physical person sat next to me speaking. As the conversation was wrapping up, I made a note of this and asked, "Why do I feel l hear you clearest when you're frustrated with me?" We've had plenty of similar conversations, and when I look back at past moments when I simply couldn't deny the messages were coming from outside myself, he usually had some level of frustration with me. But to answer my question, he said:

"Because that's all you wanna hear. That's all you think you deserve. Even when you seek love or comfort and I provide, you don't always fully receive it. I try to be funny to cheer you up and you won't have it, just calling me stupid. You are terrible at receiving input that doesn't put you down or reinforce any negative thoughts you believe about yourself. So stop it. Seriously. Fucking stop believing bad shit about yourself."

He went on to talk about the rune readings I did for a bunch you on here (thanks again for the practice❤️), and how I should be pumping myself up from all the positive feedback I got from it. And we exchanged some jokes and "I love you"'s before calling it a night.

As per usual, I share my story in a giant block of text to remind everyone of what Loki reminded me: to not just take in the messaging that supports a negative view of yourself. Allow yourself to believe that you are the gods' gift to humanity. (I just heard him say, "Seriously. I do it all the time. It works wonders for your self-esteem." 😂❤️) Maybe that verbage doesn't have the greatest connotations, but the point is to think more highly of yourself. Believe in the power and confidence that you possess. Even if it doesn't feel like you have either of these things, fake it til you make it - until you realize they've been here this whole time.

I'm on this struggle bus, too, y'all. We're gonna find ourselves together. Hail Loki ❤️

[yourwitchybrother]

Apollo and Loki tag-team

I know how the title sounds. Let me explain.

Last night, I was conducting a reading with Apollo on the topic of familiars and spirit guides. He was being very non-specific about everything, sort of dancing around things, and then he said, at some point, "ask Loki."

I have not worked with Loki for about a year. I assumed he had stepped out of my practice and left me after helping me reach all of our goals throughout our working relationship. Though, I never really got an explicit goodbye from him. But after a year of radio silence, I assumed the relationship was done. Apparently not?

I reached out to Loki afterward and welcomed him back into my life. I really have missed him this past year and seeing him pop back up is a very pleasant surprise! He and I chatted for a while about the same topic: Familiars. A spirit guide. And he had the following to say during an intuitive writing session.

I may have had a hand in the sending of a familiar :) For comfort and stability. Yes, I sent it. You need to give in to impulse. Forget everyones expectations of you. You have to be you. You have to. Not [partner] or [best friend]. You will find balance with him. Balance, unity, and harmony. Seek it with him. Your choice. ... .. Look to the future with him and you both shall see each other to success. I'd prefer a wold, but a fox is much more your speed. And please, ask his name before anything. Have a gay ol' time, young on, and happy pride. Enjoy your gift. You have certainly earned it.

I had to expunge some personal stuff and instruction but this is most of what was written and spoken to me. Now... I am not very well versed on spirit practice and familiars, so I've begun doing research. If anyone has any good sources - books, blogs, sites, anything reputable, please let me know!

Sometimes my divine team will do this. They'll send me things that I don't have much personal knowledge of to break me out of my comfort zone and send me on my way going, "You're ready!! You're just too comfortable right now!" And every single time it catches me off guard because they do it at the most unexpected moments.

Loki coming back was also incredibly unexpected! But looking back at it, with all the chaos that's been unfolding around me, it makes sense. I'm happy to welcome Loki back with open arms, I missed him a lot, and his presence is always an unexpected gift. And I suppose this means that my life is going to reach max chaos, especially as I get ready to move out and away from home for the first time. Hermes, Apollo, Bacchus, and Loki will make sure of that!

But I do still have times when things will be a little more relaxed. In the early hours of the morning, when the city streets are still and the street lights are on, everyone in the house is asleep, I get to sit in my room and confer with my team and check-in. It's the time when I'm most connected with them, and communication is most open. Hopefully, this time frame opens up when I'm in a more accepting location, but for now, this is the routine.

And in the near future, I suppose I should be keeping an eye out for fox-like spirits! Again, any and all resources are welcome and appreciated! Blessed be, and may the sun be your guide! A domani!

[danganphobia]

i think because laios and shuro’s clashes in personalities it’s unavoidable that they will fight during their relationship. who do you think would be the first one to reach out first after a fight? (this is just an attempt to make you write angsty hurt + comfort laishuro)

DRABBLE INCOMING!

Toshiro wasn't sure how many beers he had tonight. He sat next to other patrons, the number of guests dwindling as the hours passed. He just wanted to get so drunk he wouldn't have to experience a sober thought until the next morning.

This bar was quiet, two blocks away from their university campus - compared to the ones on the flashier side of town where most students went on Friday and Saturday nights to party hard and forget about responsibilities for the weekend.

For Toshiro, beers sounded more tempting than any club to wash away the stress of exams and back-to-back assignments.

When he asked for another refill, his vision started to blur. Next thing he knew, he heard another voice within earshot.

"He's been here for the past three hours."

"Don't worry, I'll pay for it."

"Uh, that's kind of you, but he's already paid for the whole night."

"Then I'll tip you extra."

Toshiro groaned, facepalming. He didn't have to look to know who it was that just showed up. Laios leaned his body against the counter, trying to peek at his face.

"Kabru said you'd be here."

Saying nothing, Toshiro finished his last beer.

Laios' carried him back to campus on piggyback. It's silent, save for the occasional cars driving through.

"Why did you come?" Toshiro asked stubbornly, the alcohol he drank made him lightheaded. If it weren't for Laios, he'd be unable to walk - but the idiot didn't need to know that. Just two weeks ago, Toshiro remembered storming out of that party Namari and Kabru invited him to, with Laios following after him, asking what his problem was, and everyone outside looking on in curiosity.

"My problem?" Toshiro had asked, sneering. "Don't you see it? This - we - doesn't work! I'm sick of it! All I ever get are stares when I tell them-"

"You're with me," Laios finished with a bitter nod, stopping Toshiro in his tracks. "If you're that embarrassed to be with me, why didn't you say so?"

That was the killer. When Toshiro noticed the eyes on them, Laios staring right at him with disappointment and hurt, Toshiro decided to admit defeat. He had only given a sour apology, leaving the party without another word.

They hadn't talked to each other since then. Toshiro stopped coming to club meetings because he didn't want to risk running into Laios, and unfortunately, Laios was always present. It was fine, their campaign could go on without Toshiro considering where they'd left off anyway.

"Why did I come?" Laios repeated the question, exhaling as he contemplated his answer. "I don't know, actually."

This was why Toshiro couldn't stand him sometimes. He was a very logical person. This was how he was raised, otherwise he'd never be fit to be heir of his father's company. Laios Touden didn't need a reason to do the things he did.

"I don't get it," Toshiro mumbled. This should make him a walking red flag, after all. This was the guy who was known for smoking pigs at clubs, did kegstands at frat parties, and could squirt milk out his eyelids for the hell of it. He was the kind of guy that would make a pristine rich kid's parents like Toshiro's have a heart attack if Laios told them what he'd been up to. They were polar opposites; someone Toshiro would've avoided if it weren't for their mutual friends. "After everything I said to you, you still came to see me."

"Yeah." Laios said, like there was nothing odd about it. It only pissed Toshiro off even more.

"Why?"

"I can't just leave you there. What if you passed out in the middle of the street?"

Toshiro snorted, scoffing. "You are aware that I practice martial arts?"

Laios laughed. "I don't doubt you can probably kick my ass while drunk. Then again, you didn't." Instead, Toshiro was clinging to his back, Laios' cyprus scent calmed him, as it was so welcoming. He hated that. It should make him nauseous if anything. "I can't say for any other stranger that would see you this vulnerable."

"I can take care of myself," Toshiro huffed. "You shouldn't have come."

"I don't care if you're mad at me, because I've already forgiven our fight."

"That's - that's preposterous -" Toshiro sputtered in defense, "Why continue to torment yourself by being seen with me?"

Laios chuckled. "Who said being with you was tormenting?"

Toshiro stayed quiet.

"You might think so, so I'll just have to prove myself to you. Lucky for me, I don't really care what people think," Laios explained, pausing at a stop light. Toshiro's eyes widened when Laios turned his head slightly with a gentle smile. "And you shouldn't either."

Toshiro's heart pounded in his chest. The traffic sign flashed - as Laios was permitted to cross the street.

"Yeah, you were an asshole at that party. But at the end of the day, it doesn't change my feelings for you. I think," Laios sighed, "if you like someone, if you really really like someone, you should let them know as much as you can."

Toshiro reached for Laios' ear and tugged on it.

"Ack!" The noise Laios' made in pain just made Toshiro pull on it tighter until he let go. "What was that for?!" He asked, pouting.

"It's easy for you to say," Toshiro said bitterly. "I've spent my whole life trying to live up to the expectations of others. I don't just do impulsive, stupid things out of my own free will. Which is why - I don't even understand why I have feelings for you, either..."

"Toshiro..."

"I am not worth this trouble. You misguide yourself."

"That's not true," Laios countered in earnest. "Tell yourself that all you want, but to me, you're worth it."

Silent and brooding, Toshiro buried his neck deep into the crook of Laios' shoulder to hide the scarlet in his cheeks.

Laios was like a leech that wouldn't pull himself off Toshiro even if Toshiro tried.

And he'd never admit how nice it felt, to be around someone who didn't expect much from him; just his presence, so they could exist together in a world so unpredictable. The air felt easier to breathe the longer they remained, just being.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

"Cut!"

Hi! I was remembering how some of your fics have Roman practicing conversations with the other sides in the Imagination over and over. Now, I tend to be one of those people that is almost always in my head (been mildly dissociating near constantly for almost a year now which uh- probably should get that checked out actually) and a lot of the time when I do stuff I get deja vu even if I've never done something like that before. And it's kinda gotten to the point where I'm not entirely sure if something has actually happened or not sometimes. So I was thinking maybe Roman references a conversation what he'd had with the Imagination!Sides in passing on accident, and everyone is kinda like "Princey wtf are you talking about??" And Roman panics and hides, and the next time he sees the sides he thinks that they don't wanna see him and this is a scene in the Imagination. So he gets really confused when the words he's learned will get the fake sides angry at him just are met with more concern and worry from the real sides. And they're trying to comfort him and he doesn't know what's going on and yells "CUT!" but obviously it doesn't work and now everyone is really worried and Roman can't tell between what's real and what's fake anymore and just. Has a mental breakdown. and then they comfort :D because I cannot leave this poor guy with an unhappy ending. – anon

hiii !!!! idk if you’re taking requests, and if not please ignore me, but if you are, i’m legit in love with how you write rociet with roman angst, and i would love to see more of it !!!!!! thank you !!!!!!!! – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: unreality/roman having trouble remembering things and figuring out what's real, self-doubt

Pairings: dlampr, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 4976

It begins so slowly that they don't think anything of it at first. Roman will say something that they don't remember, or he'll reference something that never happened, or he'll forget something that happened just a few days ago as though it happened several months back. Things...escalate, and soon they figure out the problem is far, far worse than they could have ever imagined.

Remus doesn't bother with asking or knocking, he just sinks into Roman's room right over his bed.

There's no yelp or screech, which means Roro's not in the bed, but he does get a surprised little squeak when he turns around from his desk.

"Ro-bro!"

"Re? I thought you were—you went—aren't you feeding Ollie right now?"

Remus frowns, sitting up. "No, that's not for another week. And you're supposed to come with me."

Roman furrows his brow, toying with his pen. "Really? I thought you said…"

He trails off, staring into nothing and Remus's frown deepens, sliding off the bed and walking over. Roman's pen stills, his grip a little too tight, and Remus nudges his shoulder. "Roro?"

It's like someone electrocuted him—Roman clicks and suddenly this wide grin that looks almost painful settles on his face and Remus blinks in surprise. "Sorry, don't know what came over me. Must've been lost in thought."

"Are you—hey!"

Roman leaps up and tackles Remus through the door into the Imagination, summoning his sword and swinging it before Remus has a chance to catch his breath. His morningstar clangs against the blade a moment later and he grins too—he's been waiting for Roman to start one of their fights for ages!

"Come on," Roman taunts, spreading his arms, "or are you just gonna lie there all day?"

"Oh, you asked for it, Roro."

Their sparring shakes the ground, yells and laughs ringing out as their weapons clash over and over and over. Remus throws back his head and howls and the Imagination responds, the sky growing dark and thick with clouds as thunder booms in the distance. Roman's sword grazes his arm and he shoves Remus hard in the chest, knocking him over.

"Do you yield?"

"Never!" He springs back up and they're off again, but Roman keeps dancing out of the way. "How're you so fast? Have you been practicing without me?"

Roman falters and Remus jams his elbow into the soft part of Roman's ribs, knocking him off-balance just enough to swat the sword from his hand. The first raindrops start to fall as Roman lands on his side, Remus's morningstar about to aim for his chest when a leg trips him and suddenly Roman's got his sword back—how did that happen?—and Remus's weapon is flying across the field.

"How the fuck—?"

"Do you yield?"

Remus snarls playfully and jumps up, tackling Roman and knocking his sword away again. Roman responds instantly, grappling across the slowly-muddying field until they end up on their backs, Roman's arm holding Remus in a chokehold as the rain pours down on them.

"Do you yield?"

"Yeah, yeah," Remus gasps, "I fucking yield. Leggo."

Roman chuckles and lets him roll off, landing face first in a mud puddle. His muscles ache but only in the good way and he flops onto his back, smiling breathlessly at the sky.

"That was fucking amazing, Roro," he gasps, "you have been practicing, haven't you?"

"Just trying to keep up with you," comes Roman's answer, just a little too quickly.

Remus doesn't think anything of it.

2.

"Roman?"

"Hm?" Roman looks up from his spot in the corner of the living room, curled around his notebook. "Oh, hey, Padre. Is everything okay?"

Patton tilts his head. "Yeah, kiddo, why wouldn't it be?"

"Sorry, it's just, you know, everyone's been a little tense recently, what with…" Roman makes a vague gesture. "Everything. I shouldn't have assumed, though, I'm sorry."

Before Patton can ask if Roman's okay, Roman's settling his notebook to the side and standing up.

"What can I do for you?"

"I was going to ask if you wanted to help me with dinner?"

An expression flickers across Roman's face, too quick to name, before he's smiling and bowing. "It would be my honor, lead the way."

At least he's alright enough for that. Patton goes over to the kitchen, Roman behind him, and reaches for the large pot at the back of the stove. "I was thinking we could try that new pasta dish that Virgil's been asking about? The one Thomas saw on that YouTube video?"

"The one with all the spices and garlic and stuff?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"I don't remember if we have all the ingredients we need, but I'm definitely down to try." Roman opens a cabinet and starts taking bottles down from the shelf. "We can also definitely tweak the recipe to make sure that we can do the important parts, we just have to be careful that—"

"Uh, Roman?"

Roman pauses, turning to look over his shoulder, still holding a jar. "Yeah?"

"I, uh, I did this last week, I know what spices we have. I figured this out, you don't have to tell me how to do it."

Again, that expression flickers over his face and he quickly sets down the jar and takes a big step away from the counter. "Right, right, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I just wanted to—no, I'm not gonna make an excuse. I'm sorry, Patton, I'll listen."

"It's fine, kiddo, I know you didn't mean it." Patton holds out the pot. "Can you fill this with water?"

"Of course!"

They start prepping, Patton providing little instructions and Roman carrying them out. He chops the shallots, the green onions, and sets the sausage to the side to be cooked first. By the time they're ready to start the actual cooking, Patton's got the water boiling for the rice noodles when Roman looks over his shoulder.

"Um, what are you doing?"

"Cooking the noodles, that's it."

"But they're—sorry, aren't they supposed to be cooked later?"

"We need them ready to add to the rest of the stuff near the end, kiddo, so they have to be ready."

"But they only take a few minutes." When Patton frowns, just thinking Roman's words over, Roman hastily continues. "Sorry, I'm sure you know that already. Here, I'll, uh, would it be helpful if I got a bowl out to put them in once they're done?"

"Yeah, that'd be great."

He catches that expression on Roman's face again, and again it vanishes too quickly for him to ask about, but the rest of the cooking goes off without a hitch. They get a lot of compliments on how good everything tastes and Patton makes sure Roman gets as much of the praise as he does.

"I just listened to you," Roman demurs, "it's really all you."

"It seems not only have you cooked a spectacular dish," Logan observes, "but you've also taught Roman some humility."

Virgil snorts. "'Bout time."

Roman smiles as the rest of them laugh. Patton takes another bite. "This is even better than last time."

"Last time," Roman says quietly, "sorry, can you—when was last time?"

"Sheesh, Princey, how bad is your memory getting? It was just last week?"

"Last week, right."

Patton opens his mouth to ask why Roman still sounds unsure about it, but then Remus throws one of the prawn shells at Janus and he doesn't think about it anymore.

3.

"Easy, now," Roman murmurs, still stroking his hand up and down Virgil's spine, "that's it…you're doing really well, shadow-ling."

Virgil closes his eyes, resting against Roman's solid chest as the last of the panic attack bleeds from his veins. His breathing has yet to even out, but he can start to smell some of Princey's shampoo again, so he takes it as a win. He'll deny it later, but he turns his head to nuzzle into the crook of Roman's neck. Roman doesn't say a single thing, just shifting his grip to hold Virgil more securely in his lap.

"Hey," he says gently when Virgil headbutts his chin, "you here with me, bud?"

"Mmpf."

Roman's chuckle thrums warmly through his head. "I'll take that as a 'sort of.'"

Half of Virgil expects Roman to gently prod him into taking care of himself the rest of the way: getting him water, making him try and eat a little, getting him out of the gross and sweaty clothes into clean ones, even trying to talk him into taking a shower. And he'd do it, putting up his cursory protests, but that would mean that Roman's getting ready to leave and right now, in the last of the panic, he really wants Princey to stay.

He'd deny it if Roman ever asked him, of course, and he'd throttle Janus before he could chirp how much of a lie that was.

But Roman doesn't do that. Instead, he wraps his arms even more gently around Virgil and tucks him half over his shoulder, almost straddling his lap as one of his hands begins to card through his hair. Pressed chest to chest, he has to stifle another hitching gasp as Princey starts humming. It's a low and gentle tune, almost melancholy, and he swears it's some kind of magic as it reaches into the exhausted heap of emotions still swirling in his gut and starts coaxing it out of him.

Yeah, that means he goes back to crying into Princey's shoulder, but it's a softer cry that feels like he might actually feel better when it's over and he has no idea how Roman knows exactly what to do.

He's not gonna question it though.

There's no way the song Princey's humming is as long as he holds him for, so he must be doing it over and over, which just makes Virgil cry more because Roman is choosing to stay with him right now, he's choosing to let Virgil be a puddle of mess on his lap, and he's still running his fingers lightly over Virgil's back and yes, actually, Virgil would like to stay here forever.

When the tears eventually run out and Virgil's just floating there, in a really pleasant haze, he realizes that Roman isn't going to move until Virgil decides he wants to move. Not when he's just shifting so it's easier for Virgil to breathe, and he's still scratching gently along the space between his shoulder blades.

"…Princey?"

"Hm?"

"How'd…how'd you know what to do?"

Roman turns and noses Virgil's hair. "You told me, remember?"

Virgil's tired brain tries to figure out when he gave Roman the step-by-step on how to give him the best, most indulgent comfort ever and draws a blank. "No. I—when'd I do that?"

Roman's hand stutters for a moment, just a moment, but a moment nonetheless. "Maybe I just figured out why it took me so long to realize what you needed, then."

Talking is hard, and so Virgil doesn't do it, but he does think about it.

4.

"It's not that bizarre of an opinion, to be sure, but the way it's phrased speaks more of an incomplete understanding of the topic than they intended."

"No, I see your point. I mean, I know I'm definitely biased and reading sentences like that tends to make me defensive, but I know that, and I'm trying to work on it." Roman pinches the bridge of his nose. "I think it's just hard because when you make such sweeping generalizations that imply that you really don't know what it is you're talking about, it's hard for me to not be super defensive and stuff, does that make sense?"

"It's another area for you to work on—"

"Yeah, I know."

"—but I see your point. If someone doesn't come to the table in good faith, it's difficult to have good faith yourself." Logan sits back, still pondering the opinion piece in front of them. "Though it is clear they lack the same kind of expertise and knowledge that you do."

"I think that's also why it's hard for me—I can list, like, four different examples offhand that would disprove their point, and at least half a dozen more that show the contradictions they've made in the last paragraph alone—like, I'm not alone here, that part contradicts their point about pacing, doesn't it?"

"Not entirely, but yes, it lends an ambiguity to their earlier statement."

"Right." Roman rubs his forehead and flips through his notebook, brow furrowed. "I swear I remember when we talked about academic continuity, I just need to find that page."

Logan frowns. "When we what?"

Roman looks up, brow furrowed. "When we talked about…you know, the importance of making sure your argument—or your point, sorry—carries through your entire piece?"

"I don't recall that conversation."

"You, um—" Roman starts flipping through his notebook, his movements taking on an increasingly frenetic pace— "you brought one of my papers to me that we talked about and you started going through the um, the problems with the layout and we started talking about the importance of—I swear it's in here, I just need to find it."

Logan sits forward, his brow increasingly furrowing as Roman almost tears a page trying to turn it. "Roman, it's—"

"Here." Roman runs his finger down the page, still not meeting Logan's gaze, "we talked about how it's important to have a coherent theme that the reader can follow and how to acknowledge conflicting viewpoints without placing them in a hierarchy."

Logan blinks. That does sound like a conversation that he and Roman would have—one that he believes he'd rather enjoy—but he has no recollection of it. Roman's expression flickers when he says as much, something almost like panic rising in his gaze before it's quickly stifled.

"Well," he says, forcing a smile onto his face, "perhaps I was just reading it back over and imagined what you'd say."

"I quite like this imaginary version of me, then," Logan jokes, "he makes excellent points."

Roman's reaction is not quite a flinch, but his smile squeezes for a moment too long before he nods.

"Would you mind having it again," Logan asks, "for the sake of—?"

"Oh, I couldn't do it justice," Roman says a little too quickly, "but you, um, you can read it? If you want?"

Logan blinks again, surprise coloring his voice. "You'd let me read your notes?"

"…if…if you want to?"

Waiting for Roman to retract that invitation at any moment—he has never seen Roman fiercer than when something touches his notebooks—Logan reaches out and carefully starts to read. The conversation's transcript—or summary—is fascinating. He finds himself almost mourning the fact that this wasn't a conversation he'd actually had. Although some of the comments that he can tell are his are a touch more callous than he'd prefer, he finds himself engrossed in their dialogue until he gets to the latter half.

Roman's handwriting grows sloppy, as it is wont to do when he gets caught up, but there are occasional splotches of discoloration where it looks like something wet.

"Oh, I was drinking something," Roman says offhandedly when Logan asks, "must've spillled."

"I'm surprised you'd drink around your notebooks, you take such care of them."

"Well, you know me."

Before Logan can point out that he does, that's why he's confused, Roman's saying that he's sorry, but he's a little worn out, would Logan mind terribly if they cut this short a bit? Logan shakes his head and watches Roman pick up his notebook, walking out of his room. That moment of panic lingers in his mind and he frowns, wondering why Roman had panicked.

He thinks about that and the drops of liquid that had obscured a line in Roman's handwriting that just said cut.

5.

Janus hears Roman lie over and over again and he's about to break something.

Every time, he has to hold back his visible surprise that one, Roman is lying so readily, and two, that he's getting away with it. The little prince is a better actor than Janus gave him credit for—than any of them gave him credit for, as it's turning out—and the more times it happens, the more Janus thinks that something right under their noses is going terribly, horribly wrong.

The lies aren't big enough for them to be problems on their own, but they stack on top of each other like pebbles until it feels as though Janus blinks one day and there's a wall between Roman and the rest of them that seems insurmountable. And each time another adds to the mass, he thinks about calling it out, but they're never for something so serious as to warrant a full interrogation and the last thing he wants to do is let Roman know he's suspicious of him.

…it sounds much worse than it is.

It's just that if Roman is this good about keeping everyone off his tail right now, with almost no baseline suspicion or cause for concern, he has no desire to see what would happen if Roman was intent on keeping it a secret. And if he is going to succeed in uncovering why Roman feels so fundamentally scared, something Virgil only admitted after Janus had poked and prodded him for far too long, then he needs all of the rest of them on his side too.

His opportunity comes unexpectedly.

They're having a meeting—not a meeting meeting, they're just talking about what they want to do this weekend—and Roman brings up a conversation they'd had about making sure movie nights were comfortable for everyone. Talking about possible triggers beforehand, making sure everyone had equal access to whatever snacks they wanted, even down to making sure everyone behaved considerately while the movie was playing to ensure everyone was having a good time.

A perfectly reasonable thing to bring up, except that conversation never happened.

"What?" Roman looks around. "Are—it did, I swear. We were—we were getting ready to watch the second Venom movie and Remus brought up the body horror and gore that happens and we started talking about—"

He looks around at them all again.

"Do…do none of you remember this?"

"No, kiddo."

"Not really."

"It would be a good conversation to have, but I don't remember this instance of it."

Remus and Janus just shake their heads, Janus keeping his eyes on Roman as he fiddles with his hands.

Don't lie, Roman, please.

"Sorry," Roman says, flashing a bright smile, "must be getting lost in my Imagination again."

Janus narrows his eyes—not technically a lie, but Roman's leaving something out. For a moment, it seems like the conversation will keep flowing and he'll have to wait for a better time to ask Roman what's wrong, but then Patton's speaking up.

"Kiddo?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

Roman laughs. "Yeah, of course, Padre, why wouldn't I be?"

Lie. Janus hisses softly and Roman's head jerks around.

"What's the matter," Logan asks, and Roman jerks again at the gentle tone, "will you talk to us, Roman?"

"You've been acting a little strange for a while now," Patton agrees, taking a step closer, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah, like I said," Roman tries, a smile still sort of on his face, "everything's fine, why are you—"

Janus hisses again as Virgil sits up. "Princey, you don't have to be scared, you can—"

"I'm not scared!"

The stronger lie sears across Janus's tongue as Roman winces at the force of his own shout. He pinches the bridge of his nose. No one dares move for several long seconds. Just when Logan looks like he's about to say something, Roman takes a deep breath and lowers his head.

"I'm sorry," he says in a voice that sounds so mournful it makes Janus's chest ache, "I didn't mean to shout or snap at you. You didn't deserve it, I'm sorry. I think I—I've just been spending too much time in the Imagination again."

As soon as he finishes talking, he braces. Like he's expecting to get hit. He hears Remus make a worried noise next to him, starting to reach out.

"Little one," Logan says gently, "we're not angry with you, there's no need for all of that."

Roman's eyes snap open and at the look of pure confusion on his face, a few more of them let out little sounds. Virgil stands up and Roman turns too quickly to face him.

"Hey, Princey," Virgil soothes, his hands up, "I'm not moving, okay? I'm just worried. You're—I can feel you freaking out a little that's all."

"Sweetheart," Patton calls next and Janus winces at how much Roman's neck keeps snapping back and forth, "sweetheart, it's okay, you're safe, it's gonna be okay."

"Back off a bit, we're crowding him."

All of them—except for Remus—take a step back. Remus edges closer and closer to Roman until he can rest a hand on Roman's shoulder. Roman just trembles and Remus cups the side of his face.

"Hey, Roro. Look at me. Just at me, okay?"

"I don't—this wasn't—"

"Breathe," Remus bids softly, and Roman draws a few gasping breaths.

"This wasn't supposed to happen."

"What wasn't?"

"This—I—I don't—"

Remus opens his mouth to say something else when it morphs into a wordless sound of surprise as Roman sinks out abruptly, leaving him scrabbling at the empty air as the rest of them rush forward.

"What happened?"

"Where'd he go?"

"Did we do something to upset him?"

"What's going on?"

Janus doesn't say anything, still staring at the spot where Roman had been. He thinks about all of the lies he's heard, all of the things Roman hasn't said, and how out of all of the things Roman lied about, he'd never lied about being lost in the Imagination.

A conclusion starts to take shape.

+1.

"No wonder you've been so off, your head hasn't been attached to you since you lost it."

"It's a bad idea to spend so much time in the Imagination, Roman, you know that."

"That sounds really irresponsible, Roman. You should know better."

"Quit hogging the Imagination, I need to use it too."

"Oh, of course you were, Roman, did you honestly think we'd expected anything different?"

"You need to be better disciplined, if you can't get the work done you need to before deciding to go off and play."

"Sheesh, Princey, are you really that selfish?"

"If it's getting so bad that you're having delusions, then you need to stop, kiddo."

"Oh, no, Roman's having trouble understanding what's real again."

"The fuck is wrong with you?"

"You're being dramatic, pull yourself together."

"Your crocodile tears aren't convincing anyone, you know."

"Stop crying, you're not a baby."

"Do you think that if you throw a big or pathetic enough tantrum, it'll get us to spoil you? Grow up."

"Stupid."

"Ridiculous."

"Pathetic."

"Annoying."

"Worthless."

"You can't do anything right."

"You're being ridiculous."

"We should never have relied on you."

"I knew you couldn't handle it."

"We're better off without you."

Roman curls up around his pillow, wedging himself deeper into the corner. He jams his face between it and the wall. He tries to keep his hands out of sight. He counts in his head as he breathes, trying to keep it as even as possible. Eventually it will be over. He just has to last until then. Then he can go to his room and cuddle his plushie dragon and be upset there, out of the way, and hurt all by himself. It's safer that way.

He keeps his breathing nice and steady, letting the hurt course through him. The voices keep going, taunting, mocking, yelling, scolding, until they start to just say his name over and over. Roman, Roman, Roman, Roman—

"Roman!"

Something like a frenzied scream comes from behind him and he turns his face deeper into the wall.

"What the fuck are those things?"

"Shit, how long have those been here?"

"Are they—are they supposed to be us?"

"Yeah, fucked up and cruel versions of us, not on my fucking watch!"

Several wet splats come from behind him and then there are hands on his shoulder, running through his hair, and someone that feels like Remus is murmuring in his ear.

"Hey, Roro, it's over. I destroyed them, they're gone, it's the real us. We're here, we're really here, just—just come out of there, okay?"

Oh. It's this one.

He always finds this one the cruelest, where they lure him in with promises of comfort and safety only to turn on him when he reveals what he's actually upset about. No, thank you, he's hurting just fine on his own.

"Roro, please, come out of there, it's okay, it's all gonna be okay."

"Let me try," he hears Logan's voice say, and then the Remus is moving away and there's another hand on his shoulder, "dear, it's alright. You're going to give yourself neck pain if you stay like that, come here…"

Despite his chest howling at him not to, Roman lets Logan coax him out from the corner. Each word of gentle praise just makes it worse—it's going to hurt so much when they start being mean again.

"Princey—" and there's Virgil— "hey, stay with us, okay? Just focus on us, Pat, do you want to—"

"I got it."

Despite himself, a wounded noise leaves Roman's throat as a blanket gets draped over his shoulders. Careful touches smooth it down, more hands helping to secure it in place, and he just curls up so small under it so he doesn't get used to the warmth.

Just get it over with. Just get it over with. Just get it over with.

"Sweetie," he hears, and flinches at the touch of a smooth hand and a scaled hand on his face.

Wait, what?

Janus never takes his gloves off. Not here. Not like this. They can't—they can't be this cruel to him, not today, not when everything already hurts so much.

"Cut," he manages, "cut."

But the hands don't leave and he looks up to see Janus, actual real Janus looking at him and then he smiles softly and calls him sweetie again, and then Logan is appearing over his shoulder and Patton's adjusting the blanket and Virgil and Remus are keeping watch at the corners of the room and—and—and—

"Come here, sweetie," Janus murmurs and he's falling into his chest and there's a kiss being pressed to his temple and it's warm and soft and—

"Shh, Princey," Virgil says as a thread of panic starts to wind its way around his chest, "it's okay, you're okay," and—

"Come this way a little," Logan coaxes as something soft appears under him, "come lie down, you're alright," and—

"There you are," Patton's voice says as something starts to cuddle him, gently yet firmly and it's so surreal and—

"Oh, Roro," Remus mumbles as his brother's arms wrap firmly around him, "this is real, I promise, I promise we're here with you, everything's gonna be okay, okay? We're here, we're real, you're real, everything's gonna be okay now," and—

—and then Roman doesn't think anymore.

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[daisys-reality]

After two years I still don't understand what shifting is or what it requires, like is it about how strongly you believe in it, does it require a certain meditative state, is it about how effectively you manipulate your senses, is it fully up to you or does the universe/spirits whatever have a say.

I honestly think my main struggle with shifting is my lack of understanding of what it is, it feels both way too subjective but also a really objective experience with specific rules

I'm not quite sure what exactly you want me to do, whether it's giving you space to rant, giving you advice or answers. But to be honest the first thing i had in mind as a reply was: shifting can be whatever you want it to be.

I can totally understand your way of thinking though. It seems you feel very lost/confused about this at this time which makes it probably very difficult for you to connect with 'reality shifting' itself. You've heard this probably already many times but one's shifting journey is a very personal journey.

You know reality shifting as we call it now is something that has been practiced a long time ago in many different fields. And people from these different fields have learned and approached 'reality shifting' with different mindsets, attitudes and different kinds of understanding. And they still did it! There is no one specific way that works - no, it depends on each person individually. It is very similar to one's spiritual journey. Both are journeys where you have to work with yourself on a very deep level and everyone has very different experiences.

No one but you has a say in this. You ask what shifting is and what it requires, as annoying as this sounds but you have to decide what reality shifting is TO YOU and how it should work FOR YOU. You write your own story. In one of my recent readings I had the expression come up: Choose happiness for yourself and accept it. And this is so important in my opinion. Choose what you want and accept it. Commit to it from your heart and see where you go from there. But always listen to your heart and to your feelings. Accommodate things to you, you don't need to break yourself "trying to make it work". If you ever notice yourself overworking or overstretching yourself for something, remind yourself that is not how it should be, you're not being true to yourself. Your view seems clouded and you're just punishing yourself in those times. Never forget to treat yourself with respect and to focus on your well-being while being on this journey. A healthy body carries a healthy mind, right?

Another aspect I recently talked about in one of my readings was about the doubts we have on our shifting journey. Doubts will probably always prevail because it is something you don't completely understand, and you probably will never fully do! But that's ok. (You don't really need to know how it works anyways.) Doubts are natural and they will never stop you from fully shifting. It will happen even while you have doubts. It's more so about commitment and willpower. Perhaps, a well balanced mix of spiritual and practical efforts that helps you improve and move forward on your journey. You know your beliefs can move mountains. So instead of searching for the correct information and answers, choose how you want to view shifting yourself, make it fit into your world view. Make it your own little fun thing. Belief it, connect to it and practice feeling it. I know you can do it, don't give up but also don't stress yourself out, okay?

For example, you could for the next few days do some little sessions during the day (like 5-10 min sessions). Make yourself comfortable, put on your favourite music or subliminal whatever and try to think about your beliefs or about how you are able to shift easily, imagine it. You can even tell yourself affirmation. In a way, yes, you try to convince yourself like you said. But you do this in the beginning to develop a certain belief. Once that is established you don't need to convince yourself every time, you will just be able to do it then. It becomes easier.

But for now, I think it is important for you personally to decide on what you want to believe in first. (And then work on strengthening that belief.)

I don't know how helpful my answer is but I believe in you and I know you can do it.❤️