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shubblelive · 1 year

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— FRIENDLY COMPETITION

summary : you and tommy have been dating for months, and there's a million things you love about him. however, you're usually not doing that in front of your entire audience. but after a surprising mcc debut, what's one more good thing?

genre : fluff

warnings: mentions of reader breaking a bone as a kid

pairing : cc!tommyinnit x fem!cc!reader

pronouns : she/her, reader is tommy's girlfriend

featuring : cc!tommyinnit, cc!philza (mentioned), cc!smajor (mentioned), cc!shubble (mentioned), cc!orionsound (mentioned)

request : I was wondering if you could do a fic where y/n (with fem pronouns) is a streamer and wins her fist mcc and when she wins Tommy comes into her room and is so excited that she won that forgets they hadnt told the internet they were dating and kisses her <3

word count : 1.1k

note : i love writing for tommy so much but unfortunately i don't get a lot of ideas, so whenever i get reqs for him i get super excited. for context, i wrote this around mcc 26 because it's my favourite (i KNOW it's almost a year old at this point, like i said it's my favourite). reader replaces fruitberries on the violet vampires team, he won that mcc with phil, oli and shelby, so you can probably tell why it's my favourite lmao but also i feel like tommy would call you girlfriend in place of a petname, i think it's cute. i hope you enjoy angel <333

When you were six, you broke your wrist. You and a group of your classmates had been out at lunch in the playground, engaged in an intense monkey bars contest when you fell. You didn’t remember much, the ambulance ride to A&E, maybe. Being comforted in your hospital bed as you awaited X-ray results with cuddles and cookies, definitely. Not a lot of pain, not a lot of suffering. You never got back on the monkey bars after that though. Competing with the other kids just felt like a bad idea after that. You learned to run your own race, and you’d been living like that for over a decade.

Your left hand twinged, aching slightly. Maybe it was that the bones never realigned on your wrist, but it was most likely due to the intense keyboard-pressing you’d been doing for the last five hours. You weren’t big on MCC, you were a builder rather than a combative player, and that suited you just fine. You tuned in once a month, sure, but that was mainly to support. You and Tommy had been dating for eight whole MCCs now, and he’d been the one to encourage you to apply.

Your shooting skills were… fine. You knew how to play the game, of course, you’d been playing it for over half your life. You just didn’t do much of it recently, hence the two hour practice you’d taken before the start of the event. The first game had been Parkour Warrior, which happened to be your best. The early confidence boost (combined with the encouraging messages you and Tommy had been exchanging on Discord between each event, unbeknownst to your chats) had helped you - you’d come in second overall. But by the fifth game your team wasn’t even in the top 5. You were nervous, worried about letting your team down but, as Phil rightfully pointed out you had “did the best out of all of us, dude.” You’d been really lucky with your team. Everyone on it was someone you knew at least vaguely. You’d spoken to Phil a bunch since starting your relationship with Tommy, and he’d been a big help. Shelby and Oli, your other two teammates were both complete sweethearts and you’d loosened up massively since the beginning of the event.

Things picked up after SkyBattle, and no one in your chat even noticed when you and Tommy took breaks at the same time (two waterbottle refills and a reassuring kiss that had you on your A-Game for the last hour and a half of the event).

And then came DodgeBolt.

Your shooting skills were fine. Truly, but your entire team getting killed in less than five minutes leaving you and Scott in the arena alone. You were silent, focusing too hard on not dying to even think about addressing your chat. Phil was murmuring encouragement into the VC that you were actively tuning out in an attempt to concentrate. Tommy was sitting at his desk three rooms away, quiet as a mouse. He hadn’t moved in so long that his chat had started spamming lag. He had been trying not to be too obvious about it, but it was you versus the manager of the event engaged in a 1v1 for your first time in the contest. Your hand was cramping and you were biting the inside of your cheek so hard it was painful, but you had an arrow and a shot. Scott had an arrow as well, and you knew that if you left it any longer he’d get you, so you let your instincts take over and let it go.

VIOLET VAMPIRES TAKE THE CROWN!

Shelby was screaming in the VC before you could comprehend what had just happened, and before you could even move arms were around you. Your office door had swung open as your golden retriever of a boyfriend all but lifted you out of your chair, pressing a proud kiss to your lips.

“Oh my god,” you murmured, face hidden in the blue fabric of his shirt. “I won?”

“You won!” Tommy was yelling, grin taking over his face.

You let out a squeal of delight as you kissed the corner of his mouth in return, your temple being peppered with supportive kisses. “I won! Chat, oh my god-” You turned back towards your stream and were suddenly struck with the fact that you were, in fact, broadcasting this live. “Chat. Oh my god.”

Tommy was suddenly very still. You did a double take between your monitor, chat zipping past so fast it was making your head spin, and your boyfriend. You had about three seconds to make a move before it was awkward and you already knew that the cat was out of the bag. You’d be trending on twitter within an hour if you weren’t already.

“Chat, I won!” You turned back to Tommy, wrapping your arms around his neck. Tommy was stiff, but you pressed a kiss to his jawline, right below his ear, out of frame of your camera. “We’re okay, boyfriend,” your voice was soft as you held him, his hands coming up on your back, squeezing you tightly.

That snapped him out of it, and suddenly the two of you were back to screaming. “I’m so proud of you,” you were swaying on the spot, you gazing past his arm to your monitor, evidence of your win right there on your screen.

“I love you,” he kissed your hairline. “Girlfriend.”

He had to get back to his chat eventually and you needed to get back in the VC with the rest of your team members, exchanging congratulations. You hung around on the server for another twenty minutes before excusing yourself and finishing up the stream. You and Tommy had both silently agreed to not address what had happened and you reconvened in the hallway half an hour after the end of the event. Sitting on the sofa, you pulled out your phone and were immediately introduced to the downside of having a famous boyfriend. His full weight was put on your, your phone slipping out of your grasp and between the couch cushions. He mumbled into your neck. “No twitter. Don’t care.”

Your hands delved into his curls as he closed his eyes. “But-”

He lifted his head off your chest to glare at you and you missed the weight. “Fine. But you’re ordering me dinner after my spectacular win.”

He laughed, rumble of his chest spreading warmly throughout your entire body. “You don’t even need your phone, see. You’ve got me, and don’t worry, yes I called the papers to tell them how well you did. Being a girlfriend gets you perks.”

“Being a boyfriend gets you perks, too.” You point out.

Tommy lifted his head again, only slightly, eyebrows raised. You kissed him one more time and he nodded, content. “I think maybe I win, actually.”

#tommay tommyinnit fluff #tommyinnit x y/n #tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit headcanons #tommyinnit x reader fluff #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit fanfic #tommyinnit fluff

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stiltonbasket · 7 months

Note

I know Nyoomerr wrote a mini fic where Shen Yuan dotes on Bingge’s kids, before I sent you the prompt also, but listen… I want many cakes!

There are so many possible cute OC Bingge kiddos Shen Yuan could dote on, and so many ways the Binggeyuan drama outside said doting could go! I’d happily read a million different versions! ♥️

In spite of having three older siblings to play with, and three nominal mothers and four nursemaids to raise him, Luo Shunlei was a very lonely child.

Unlike his brother and his two elder sisters, Shunlei was rarely allowed to see his own mother. Muqin spent most of her time away from his father's palace in the human realm, for she was Emperor-Father's most trusted lieutenant as well as his wife, and could not be spared from the various battlefields Father left in his wake for more than a single season out of each year.

That life suited his mother, Shunlei knew: and he was being looked after well enough, since Mother Ning doted upon him just as tenderly she cared for his sister Suoxin. But he hated to go to her when he fell while playing cuju in the garden, or felt lonesome for his absent Muqin, for Mother Ning cried so often when she thought her children were out of earshot that Shunlei could not bear to add to her troubles.

Nor could he go to Mother Liu, for Mother Liu was Luo Nianzu's mother, and Nianzu clung to her like a baby fire-horned monkey because his birth mother had died before Nianzu ever knew her.

(The less said of Mother Hua, the better, Shunlei thought. She was not unkind to him, but she made no secret of the fact that she was jealous of the favor Muqin received from Emperor-Father; and since Shunlei was Muqin's son, Mother Hua had never liked him very much, either.)

But then, late in the spring of Luo Shunlei's fourth year, Mother Liu brought a man into the hougong's central garden and announced that he was to be Suo-jie and Ying-jiejie's new Shizun.

"He will be your Shizun too, in time," she said to Nianzu, "as soon as you learn how to read more than a few characters."

"What about me?" Shunlei asked anxiously, plucking at the hems of her sleeve. "Shunshun wants to study, too."

At this, Mother Ning looked up from her account-book and kissed the top of his head.

"You can join this year if the taifu says you may," she assured him. "You're very bright for your age, Shun'er, but there's no need to rush. Mingyan gave Zhu-laoshi a twelve-year contract, so he won't leave the palace until the year you turn sixteen."

Sixteen sounded dreadfully grown-up to Luo Shunlei, who had yet to celebrate his fourth birthday. And if the new taifu really would be staying for the next twelve years, it hardly mattered that Shunlei wouldn't begin his studies until after he turned five.

But the taifu was more than happy to teach him, though Shunlei had only managed to learn the three characters that made up his name—and by the first week after lessons began, Shunlei had affixed himself to his new Shizun like a barnacle clinging to the hull of a boat.

Zhu Qinglan was, strangely enough, only the second man that Shunlei had ever met. Imperial Father was the first, and Shunlei had seen some of his demon lackeys from afar; but they were forbidden to enter any part of the inner court save for Father's private palace, so he had never actually spoken to them.

"Are all men from the human realm like you?" Shunlei asked his Shizun once, not long after Imperial Father returned from his latest campaign in the North. "If they are, why doesn't Father make friends with them instead of fighting?"

Shizun laughed and put out his hand to steady Luo Shunlei's grip on his writing brush.

"No," he replied, after the brush picked up its pace again. "Your Shizun is very old by now, that's all. I had to spend eighty years wandering the wilds alone before I learned how to hold my temper properly, and my Shizun was long gone by then—poor shifu! If your Imperial Father had met me when I was a young man, he wouldn't have wanted me as a servant, let alone a friend...or as his children's taifu, I suppose."

Luo Shunlei pouted. "Shizun can be my friend."

"Mm, then this teacher is very lucky. Oh, Shun'er, not again—you mustn't touch the scroll at all, remember? See how well da-gongzhu is writing."

It was true that Shizun was scolding him, Luo Shunlei reflected—smudging his copy-work as he thought, to Shizun's great distress—but he did it so gently that Shunlei wriggled with glee, feeling very much like a wilted flower that had suddenly been thrust into the full light of day.

Shizun treasured Luo Shunlei, just as he treasured Da-jie and Er-jie and Gege; and since he belonged to all four of them, he loved them equally. Mother Ning loved Da-jiejie the most, and Mother Liu loved Gege the most; and though Mother Hua loved nothing in the world other than Er-jiejie, Shunlei was certain that his Muqin loved Imperial Father far more than she loved him.

Zhu Qinglan loved no one at the palace better than he loved Shunlei, and that feeling was so dreadfully new to him that he burst into tears the next time Shizun entered the schoolroom with a bowl of his favorite sweet sesame cakes.

"Why are you crying?" Shizun demanded, bewildered, as Luo Shunlei let out a wail and scurried over to bury his head in the long skirt of Shizun's white robe. "Are you ill?"

He passed the cakes to one of the maids and lifted Shunlei onto his hip, feeling his cheeks and brow with the back of his rough hands.

"His little highness doesn't have a fever," Shizun muttered, "but we can't take chances, so run for a taiyi as quickly as you can. This one will stay with the little prince until the doctor comes."

"No," Shunlei bawled, rubbing his face against Shizun's shoulder. "I'm happy, Shizun."

"Happy?" Shizun asked, more puzzled than ever. "Why?"

Luo Shunlei laid his cheek on Shizun's soft neck and wept, too overwhelmed to explain that no one had ever made anything specially for him to eat before.

His siblings were only passingly fond of sesame cakes, though they refrained from saying so to save face for their Shizun. But Shunlei likes Shizun's cakes even more than the ones Father sometimes makes for their weekly luncheons, and yesterday, Shunlei had finally worked up the courage to ask if Shizun could bake them again.

Shunlei's lessons were canceled that morning, since Shizun and Mother Ning's taiyi said that he needed rest; and so, he spent the rest of the day being carried about the palace on his teacher's back, and fed another handful of sesame cakes whenever Shizun remembered he was there.

By the third month, Luo Shunlei decided that he loved his Shizun more than anyone else he had ever known, except for Muqin and his Suo-jiejie—which was why he bit off the left half of his Imperial Father's nose when Father told him that he meant to take Shizun into the hougong as a bride.

"You can't have Shizun for your wife!" Shunlei screeched, incensed. "He's ours!"

Imperial Father only raised his eyebrows at him.

"If you ever do that again," he drawled, conjuring a mirror to make sure his nose was healing properly, "I'll send you to the North to fight ice demons with Hualing, and I won't bring you back until you're too old to need a taifu anymore."

Luo Shunlei growled and kicked his little feet until he heard the satisfying crack of one of his Imperial Father's ribs snapping in half.

"You can't," he insisted, as Father let out a gasping wheeze and put a hand to his chest. "You have thirty wives already! That's too many. You can't have my Shizun, too."

Father's right eyebrow climbed a little higher up his forehead. "Everyone under the sun belongs to me," he said. "If I want your Shizun, he'll be mine eventually. There's no more to be said about it."

"But Shizun doesn't want you," Luo Shunlei scowled. "Everyone knows that."

For some reason, Father's face fell so quickly that Shunlei almost regretted his unkindness.

Only almost, though.

"It doesn't matter what he wants," Father said at last, after a long silence—and after his broken rib had healed, much to Luo Shunlei's frustration. "But he—he will want me some day, even if his heart lies elsewhere now. You'll see."

Luo Shunlei squinted at him. "I'll go tell Shizun what you're planning," he threatened. "Then Shizun can run away, and I'll go with him."

"Do you really want to visit the North so badly?" his father said idly. "Everything that lives there could eat you up in one bite."

(Shunlei's mother had taught him what to do in case anything ever ate him, so he could survive perfectly well in the Northern Desert if he had to.

Naturally, he said nothing of this to his father.)

Shunlei reached up and tugged sharply on his father's hair.

"Shizun won't like you if you send me away," he sniffed. "You can't be stupid if you're an Emperor, Imperial Father. Shizun said so."

Father sighed and tucked Luo Shunlei under his arm. "Would it really be so bad if Qinglan joined the harem?" he asked. "He'd still be your Shizun, and you'll still get to see him whenever you like. Nothing will change for you and the other little ones."

Luo Shunlei said nothing.

"And," Father said softly, "you can call him muhou after he and I are married. I plan to make him my empress, so he'll be your Imperial Mother as well as your Shizun."

"Imperial Mother...?"

Shunlei had never had an Imperial Mother before. Officially, every woman in the harem was Father's legitimate wife; the sole difference in status between them was that only the five inner wives—or four now, after the untimely death of Luo Nianzu's birth mother—were allowed full courtyards of their own and the right to raise children.

None of them were allowed to call themselves empresses, only consorts and wives: not even Mother Ning, who had reputedly been Father's favorite wife since his childhood on Cang Qiong Mountain.

But if Father meant to take Shizun as his Empress, and if that meant Shizun would be Shunlei's Imperial Mother, then...

"Then if you do marry Shizun," Shunlei ventured, plucking at the yaopei dangling from Imperial Father's belt, "can Shun'er have a little sister? Or a brother?"

Suddenly, Luo Shunlei felt his father's body go cold.

"No," Father said brusquely. "You may not."

"But why not?" he persisted. "If Shizun becomes my Imperial Mother, won't he be allowed to have his own Shun'er? Like Muqin and Mother Ning and—"

"No," his father repeated, more harshly than before. "After your Nianzu-ge was born, I vowed that I would never father another child. Don't ever mention such things again."

Luo Shunlei stared at him. "But I'm smaller than Gege," he said uncertainly. "Didn't Father break that vow already?"

"Enough," Father hissed. "Listen to me, Luo Shunlei. I nearly killed your Mother Ning by letting her give birth to Suoxin, and I as good as murdered your late Mother Qin by fathering Nianzu upon her. If Hualing had tried to give birth to you the usual way instead of molding you from our mingled blood, she wouldn't even have lived long enough to bring you into the world. Would you have me risk killing your Shizun, too?"

Shunlei's eyes burned.

"No," he said in a strangled voice. "Put me down."

So Imperial Father set him down on the ground, looking very much as though he could not bear to stand in Shunlei's presence for another moment.

"Don't you dare mention any of this to anyone," Father said wearily, as Shunlei rubbed his fists across his smarting eyes. "Otherwise, I really will send you up North to your mother."

Luo Shunlei nodded, somehow contriving to hide his tears until he made his way out of his father's courtyard; and then he staggered off to the Bamboo Palace where Shizun lived, hoping against hope that Shizun was at home and not out on another beast-trapping trip with Mother Liu.

"Shizun," he sobbed, beating on the gate with his tiny fists. "Shizun, Shun'er is here!"

And then Shizun was there, bundling Shunlei into his arms and draping a warm cloak over his shoulders before bringing him into the Zhugong's little kitchen for cakes and hot tea.

He fed Luo Shunlei and washed the tears from his little nose; and then, after his sobs began to slow, Shizun wrapped him up in a soft blanket and took him to Mother Ning.

"No," Shunlei wailed, as Mother Ning came running out of her own palace with worry all over her face. "Mother Ning, Shun'er wants to stay with Shizun."

Mother Ning blinked. "He didn't make you cry?"

"No!"

"Then who did?"

Shunlei frowned and burrowed into his Shizun's coat. "Nobody. But Shun'er is staying right here."

"All right, all right," Shizun said soothingly. "You can stay with Shizun for as long as you want. Lady Ning, if you would..."

Mother Ning nodded and promised that she would send a maid to the Zhugong with a bag of clothes for Shunlei.

"You can send him back for his bath, if he needs one before bed," she fretted. "But if he'd rather stay with you, then that's all right, too."

Satisfied, Shizun bowed to Mother Ning and whisked Shunlei back to the Zhugong, where he was made to drink two more cups of medicinal tea—though he did not mind this, since Shizun had already fed him all the fresh-baked sesame cakes he could hold—and put to bed on the pretty lounging chair in the front room.

"Go to sleep," Shizun told him, stroking his hair. "And don't look at this teacher with such big eyes. I'll still be here when you get up."

Luo Shunlei's lip trembled. "Do you promise?" he whispered. "You won't go away while I'm sleeping?"

"Of course not. Has your Shizun ever broken his word? Look—I won't even let go of your hand. You can hold this one, and I'll use the other to write while you nap."

So Shunlei finally let himself drift off; and when he opened his eyes again, some two hours later, he found that Shizun had fallen asleep at his desk, with his head on the erhu score he was copying and his left hand still clasped about Luo Shunlei's.

Suddenly, Luo Shunlei's heart felt very full. But then he remembered that Shizun would leave one day, whenever Father deemed that Shunlei and Nianzu and their jiejies had no further need of him, and then...

And then Shizun wouldn't belong to Shunlei anymore.

His spirits sank. He squeezed Shizun's palm, not knowing whether he wanted his teacher to sleep on or wake up and comfort him.

But at that moment, two words shaped themselves upon Luo Shunlei's lips; and before he could bite them back, he found himself saying them aloud.

"Imperial Mother?" he whispered, hugging his Shizun's arm. "Muhou, Shun'er is...is...."

And then—like a ray of white sunlight spearing through a blanket of clouds—his Shizun smiled, though he had not woken, and kissed Luo Shunlei's pudgy hand in his sleep.

"Hush, my baobao," he breathed, already sinking back into his dreams. "Don't cry. Mother is here."

#svsss #bingyuan #prompt fill #my fic #!!!!!!!! bingyuan shenanigans are back #this is set in the same verse as “a wife by any other name”#if anyone was wondering

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daysofyellowroses · 8 months

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chilli

carmen berzatto x reader | 1.8k | 18+ minors dni | tw: language, little bit of smut, men being sassy

prompt was: Carmy would neverrr date a girl in the food industry. Like he needs a girl sooo far removed??? Bc when he comes home, he just wants to roughly fuck out his frustrations and then be with a little sweet angel that plays with his hair and mutters how pretty he is and how good he makes her feel. So what would he do if she showed up to his work by surprise with like a tea or coffee or something all giddy to see him and she got all nervous bc she’s never seen him so angry and brute before screeeaming at the chefs (idea being a “get the FUCK off my expo chef, NOW!!!” Type intense Sitch) and r/ was like “carm…deep breaths, it’s just food bear. Do you need to come home?” And that would just make his OCD spiiiiirallll out bc how can someone so deeply important to him not see that it was so more then just food (even though he’s just a lil drama queen abt his work!!!!) - as requested by @thecapricunt1616 thank you so much for these requests they are honestly a joy to write and i can only hope i do your ideas justice!

not necessarily important but i had nfr by lana on repeat while writing this, i feel like it fits the vibe 🌼

🐻

Of all the people in the world, you never really expected to be with some like Carmy. It wasn't that he wasn't your type, or didn't treat you well, because he was and he did, he was the most amazing partner you could ask for. He was just different to anyone you'd ever dated. In the few relationships you'd had in the past you found yourself growing frustrated, fed up with being treated like some doll that would break easily.

Just because you were a little more girly and had a soft personality it didn't mean you were totally delicate, that you would fall apart at the slightest touch. You were more than a bow in your hair, than pink dresses and long eyelashes. After your last relationship consisted of you basically being a doll on your boyfriend's arm, you swore it wouldn't happen again.

And it didn't, Carmy didn't treat you like a doll, like something to be put on display when it suited him. He saw past your exterior, wanted to know the real you underneath it all. Of course he told you that you were beautiful, complimented you and made you feel incredible, but he also teased you and asked about your opinions on things and adored you just as much in your baggy t-shirts and sweatpants as he did in your dresses and stockings.

It was the best relationship you'd ever had, and you couldn't believe your luck that you had met him. The two of you just clicked, everything fell into place from the first moment and you had fallen into a very enjoyable routine.

Because you both had busy schedules, you set aside one day every week to have a proper date, it could be going out for dinner or a movie or just relaxing at one of your apartments. And on the other days, you always managed to find a window for some..stress relief.

At least four times a week, sometimes five depending on how work had been, one of you would show up at the other’s place, arms immediately wrapping around each other, getting to the bedroom if you were lucky.

On the date nights, it was all about romance. You would dress up in a cute outfit, take your time to get ready, Carm would bring you flowers and hold your hand across restaurant tables. You would talk about anything and everything, and you would always end the night in one of your beds, it was sweet and romantic and tender.

Then on the other nights..you both knew what you wanted. Most times you just threw a long coat over your underwear if you were going to Carm's, clothes just slowed you down. It was like a different side of him, a fiery passionate wild side you adored. His hand around your neck, whispering the most depraved things in your ear as he fucked you til you could barely see straight anymore. Afterwards you would lay on his chest and stroke his hair, tell him how good he made you feel, how much you cared about him.

It was a routine, it worked, and you loved it.

But sometimes routines are meant to be broken, just a little bit.

You had a day off work, and after doing some housework you went into town for a little browse around. You weren't sure why the urge came over you, but something in you decided to go visit Carmy at work. You had occasionally gone to the Beef for lunch with friends, feeling proud and stupidly happy when Carm would personally deliver your food.

After picking up two coffees, you made your way to the restaurant, smiling as you spotted Richie behind the counter. He gave you a wave, but he wasn't quite his usual self, you could sense it.

“Mind if I head back?” You asked, gesturing to the kitchen door.

“Uh..no,” Richie nodded, not quite meeting your eyes. “Head on in.”

You hesitated for a brief moment before walking into the kitchen, your senses becoming flooded by the smells, bright lights, and mostly by the shouting, specially Carm and Syd snapping at each other.

Tickets were flooding out of the printer, the whirring sound filling the air.

“If you just let me handle it, I can do this,” Syd snapped, pointing to the printer. “I don't have time to stand here arguing with you.”

“This is your fault,” Carm snapped, pushing his hand through his hair. “Messing around with other shit when you're supposed to be focusing. Just..just get the fuck off my expo, let me handle this.”

“Oh it's your expo now?” Syd scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Don't stand there and act like I don't-”

She paused as she met your eyes, clearing her throat.

Carm followed her gaze, looking over his shoulder to you. You expected his expression to soften, for him to come over to you.

But he didn't.

“Are you okay?” You asked, your heart starting to hammer in your chest.

After a moment of silence, Carm finally sighed, shaking his head.

“This isn't a good time.”

“It's okay,” You walked closer, setting the coffees down on the counter and gently touching his arm. He pulled it free from your touch and you felt your heart sink.

“Just..take a deep breath,” You smiled softly. “it's just food, bear. The world isn't ending. Do you want to come home?”

The look you got had you turning from nervous to angry.

Just food,” Carm repeated, rubbing his jaw. “Just fucking food?”

He laughed, mocking and cruel. You felt the anger rising inside you, taking a deep breath.

“You know what, I can't deal with this right now,” Carm threw his hands up, resting them on top of his head. “You don't know what the fuck I have to deal with, and I don't have time for your..”

“My what?” You interjected, challenging him. He didn't finish his sentence and you looked over to Syd. “Do me a favor,” You gestured to the coffee on the counter. “Pour that over his fucking head.”

You turned and walked away, hearing raised voices behind you, clamoring together. You shut your eyes for a moment, refusing to cry. Leaving the restaurant, the air felt cold and sharp on your skin, a determination to get as far away as possible hitting you.

You refused to look at your phone for the rest of the day, shutting it into your nightstand. By the time the lights of the city were lighting up the night sky, you didn't feel any less angry.

When you heard the knock on your door you told yourself not to answer, to let him wait. But there were things you needed to say, things you needed him to know.

Opening the door slowly, you held your hand up before Carmy could speak, taking a deep breath.

“I'm going to speak,” You told him, standing aside. “You're going to listen to me. Get in.”

He nodded, heading inside and holding his hand on his jacket zipper, looking at you.

You closed the door and looked back at him, folding your arms.

“Keep it on, I'll be brief.”

He moved his hand, biting his lip softly as he looked at you. You pushed aside the part of you that wanted to hug him like always, focusing on what you needed to say.

“First of all,” You began, taking a breath. “How..how fucking dare you speak to me the way that you did? How dare you speak to Syd that way, who the fuck do you think you are?”

You could tell he wanted to respond, holding your hand up.

“You think I don't understand stress? That I don't understand how important your job is to you? You can be stressed, you can be angry, but you are not allowed to speak to me that way ever again, I swear to god. Do you have any idea how it felt to stand there and be spoken to like that? Like I'm some embarrassment to you? Nobody treats me that way, you hear me? Fucking nobody.”

You took a breath, trying to calm yourself down, frowning as Carm ran his hand over his mouth, a slight smile on his face.

“Oh I'm sorry, is this a joke to you?” You snapped, resting your hands on your hips. “because I don't think it's very funny.”

“It's not a joke,” Carmy murmured softly, stepping closer to you and holding his hands up. “Not at all. I can't apologize enough for what I did, I swear to you it won't ever, ever happen again. It's just..”

“Just what?” You snapped, your heart pounding.

“You're..you're really fucking hot when you're angry.”

You frowned at the comment before your expression softened a little, rolling your eyes.

“You are not allowed to be turned on right now. I'm too mad at you.”

“And it's hot,” Carm leaned in to whisper in your ear and you forced yourself not to be affected.

“Stop it,” You sighed, lightly swatting his shoulder. “I'm not in the mood.”

Carm pulled back, his hands touching your cheeks.

“You deserve the world,” He sighed softly. “And I don't deserve you, but I can't imagine my life without you. You're everything to me, I hate myself for hurting you, more than you could know. I don't expect you to forgive me, but if you do then I promise to spend every second making it up to you.”

“Every second?” You repeated, moving your hand to his arm, a small smile on your face. “you better get started then.”

“As you wish.” He grinned, giving you a kiss and letting you guide him towards your bedroom.

#the bear #the bear 🐻#the bear fic #the bear fics #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you #ask #request #these are honestly so fun to write

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kazvha · 6 months

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Hope you had a wonderful day! I was so excited for this opportunity. so I have a prompt where the reader and eleceed guys get stuck in a closet or smth and due to the lack of space they cannot move further away from each other. Then as the characters try to figure out how to get out of this place, the reader mentions that they like the cologne of the character which leads both of them to turn red. I think it would be cute! anyways, I won't keep you for long. I hope you have an absolutely amazing day! baiii :33

Summary: Forced proximity with them

Including: Kayden, Kartein, Inhyuk, Muse

Notes: Hi, this is such a cute idea! I chose to write this prompt for these 4 guys, I hope you enjoy my take on this. Have an amazing day as well!!🤍

Kayden was doing pull-ups in his cat form, using the wardrobe rail of the closet. When you came into the closet to ask him something, the doors closed behind you and didn't open again when you attempted to push them.

So Kayden changed into his human form to try out his luck too but he failed. The space you two shared became even tinier since he wasn't a cat anymore. With each movement your elbows touched with his.

"We have to wait till Jiwoo comes home. I really don't want to destroy his closet." He said as he looked down at you. You hummed in response and catched a whiff of his fresh cologne. "Wow, you smell really good." You complimented him right away and felt your face heating up a bit.

Kayden's eyes widened in surprise, but his surprise quickly turned into cockiness. "I get that a lot hahaha!" He chuckled as the color of his ears turned red. He was so grateful that there was no light in the closet.

Kartein and you were on a trip together and you just found out that there was only one bed in your hotel room. Asking the manager didn't help because every other room was already booked. So you proposed that you both should sleep on the bed, on separate sides of course. You knew how much Kartein valued his sleep and you also didn't want to miss out the comfort of the bed. Kartein agreed to share it since you weren't a stranger to him.

You snuggled up under your blanket on your side of the bed as Kartein's pleasant floral scent engulfed you.

"You smell amazing. How do you manage to smell that good even after going to sleep?" You were honestly curious.

Kartein turned towards you, with a red face and frowning expression. "Were you sniffing me?"

"What? No!" You cried out completely flustered.

Now you were frowning yourself and your cheeks burned in embarrassment. There was a painfully awkward silence between you two until you heard a barely audible "Thank you." five minutes later.

Inhyuk is building his new closet and you decided to help him. After successfully mounting the closet doors, he tries them out, only for them to not open up again.

"Well, this is weird..." He strokes his chin as he searches for the problem and finally sighs, "I think we used the wrong screws? Let's take the doors down."

You sit down in silence, unscrewing the screws as you both become extremely aware of each other's presence every time your knees touch. Sitting so close to him also makes you notice the pine fragrance he applied on himself earlier today.

"I love that scent on you Inhyuk, it really suits you.", you shyly tell him what you think. Inhyuk slightly blushes and his gaze softens.

"You really think that? Thanks, I appreciate it!"

Muse and you got stuck in the tiny pantry of the cafeteria. You were looking for a midnight snack when you spotted the janitor who did his nightly patrol, so you quickly hid in that little room.

"It's a door that can only be opened from outside. Whose idea was it to put such a door here?" Muse was clearly irritated. And you also whined. "I didn't plan on sleeping on the floor tonight. All I wanted was a snack!"

"Let's just hope whoever finds us here tomorrow morning doesn't like to gossip."

"Great."

You two sat there in silence, back to back. The only thing you could hear were Muse's long fingers tapping against the cold floor. Then you heard his voice say, "You smell nice."

"What?"

Muse cleared his throat as his cheeks got a shade darker. "You heard it, don't let me repeat it..."

"Thank you I guess." You laughed and felt an unexpected warmth flood your body. It was a good thing you couldn't see each other's face you thought.

#eleceed x reader #eleceed x you #eleceed x y/n #kayden break x reader #kayden x reader #kayden break #eleceed #kartein x reader #inhyuk goo x reader #inhyuk x reader #muse x reader #eleceed muse x reader #webtoon headcanons #webtoon x reader #manhwa x reader

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wild-joker-out-pleasures · 2 months

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🎀 Skirts for Joker Out 🎀

The recent posts about skirts made me decide to create this. Why not let ALL FIVE BOYS join in on the fun and joys of wearing a skirt? Feel the breeze? The freedom? Equal opportunity is never a bad thing after all, isn’t it? 🤭

Thus, I have taken it upon myself to choose fitting skirt styles for each of the lads, based on what I think would suit each of them! 🎀

Bojan Cvjetićanin 💓

Very out there, very flirty and attention-grabbing miniskirts with standout details and more than a few dashes of coquette. Chiffon, fringe, sequins, little bows. His fearlessness and outgoing personality would really shine, and the short lengths ensure that this short king would look as tall as possible. 🤭 Swishy and twirly silhouettes also allow him to shake those hips and twerk.

Kris Guštin 🤍

That ass certainly doesn’t lie. Kris could rock long and short skirts alike, and with those long legs. Soft, delicate fabrics that drape beautifully complement his Greek god-like beauty. A sheer long skirt with a slit would suit him particularly well. He is well-suited to both pretty princess styles with dainty details and cute bows, and high-fashion runway-esque silhouettes that hug that peach of his and would make every jaw in the room drop.

Jan Peteh 🖤

Dark and intense Jan is a natural fit for equally dark, edgy and alternative skirt styles. Black leather, dark lace and mesh, as well as some bondage and lingerie elements such as buckles, straps and hardware, complement his black cat nature and his natural sensual energy. Of course, one cannot leave out the classic red and black plaid kilt-style miniskirt a la Vivienne Westwood, a staple in alternative fashion that just screams Jan.

If any of you know the manga and anime "Nana"...Jan is 100% Nana Osaki coded, both in appearance and personality.

Jure Maček 🩵

Sunny and chaotic Jure is all about showing skin, and a natural fit for Y2K sensibilities, the shorter the better. Playful, youthful denim and summery mini lengths are particularly good styles for him, rips and distressed details optional. When he's feeling especially fancy, a bold feather mini is a particularly good fit, in its unconventional and unexpected chaos...that Jure would absolutely pull off. 😆

Nace Jordan 💜

Nace is the epitome of a lovely fall day. He suits so many autumn-inspired styles in earthy tones of brown, orange, warm purple and muted green, touched with varying degrees of coziness, and both soft and tough details. Naturally, that extends to skirts. From fairy grunge maxi skirts, to "sexy nerd" dark academia style, to army green minis (he has nice thighs, of course I wouldn't deny anyone those thighs)...he can carry them all beautifully!

Thank you for your time, and LONG LIVE SKIRTS! 🖤

#joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #kris guštin #jan peteh #jure maček #nace jordan

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lovejosephquinn · 1 year

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Imagine it’s like your third/fourth date with Joe and he decides to have the date at his so he can show off his mega cooking skills. Everything is so cute and fluffy and saccharine and then it’s the first time the two of you have sex. But it’s all adorable and sweet rather than the (wonderful) filth that you usually do!! I feel like I don’t see enough first time fics anymore :(

I GOT YOU. One fluffy fluffed up imagine just for you bestie 🥰

Under 18's DNI. Word Count: 3.5k

There was something different about Joe, the absolute charmer of a man that you had never witnessed before in anybody else. It was something you couldn't quite pin point and if you had one guess it would be that you had never been treated quite like the queen that others had told you that you oh so truly deserved.

It hadn't took long for Joe to break down the walls in which you had held up as much as you could from previous relationships, but he had it all, not just the looks that were an extreme bonus and you felt like you could jump him every time you saw him but also the persona he only really kept for people that was worth it, the whit and the chaotically beautiful and quite frankly funny yet brutally sweet and caring nature of him had shined through by the time your second date had come around.

Basically, to put it bluntly, he was your definition of perfect and it was something you couldn't possibly refuse to let go.

It was proving an impossible task to not fall in love with this human so quickly. It was cringeworthy to admit, but he was the first thing you thought about in a morning and the very last thing you dreamt about at night, it was a puzzle piece in your heart that was missing and he somehow completed it by walking into your life at the time he did.

Not to say you didn't meet the way most courting adults do nowadays, through the wonders of dreaded hooking up dating apps. You had felt like a teenager with a massive crush staying up until 4am the first time that you ever exchanged messages, talking for hours in pointless conversation, sharing memories and exchanging pleasantries and the general chit chat to get to know one another. You just clicked. What seemed too good to be true turned into texting every single day, calling each other when you both had a spare minute, sharing the occasional face time just to be able to say hello at the closest face to face you could finally get a chance to meet; and then it happened.

Date one: a simplistic meal at an authentic Italian restaurant, suited and booted, a grand first impression of a gentleman if any. Your first kiss. Sensual, slow and heartfelt.

Date two: Driving out to a lake which was situated around the lovely grounds of a valley, you held hands pretty much all the way around, giggling, sharing ice cream, feeding the ducks with over priced bread and laughing at Joe nearly falling in the water when he leaned to actually hand feed the duckling, resulting in him almost looking like a drowned rat and being branded an accidental murderer forever.

Date three: Another meal at a fancy five star French restaurant in the heart of London, followed by drinks in bars that Joe insisted he needed to take you to as they did the best martini's you'd ever tasted. He wasn't wrong, you fucking hated martinis until that night, maybe it was just a placebo due to the fact he enjoyed them, so you made yourself like them too, you had to impress him to right? You'd made out in the taxi all the way back to your flat, Joe dropped you off not insinuating that he wanted to take it any further as it was clear you both didn't want to rush something that was going so well and risk it failing over sleeping together too quickly.

Date four was tonight. You had arranged a quieter more casual meet this evening. Joe had shown great determination in getting you to his home to cook for you, vowing to you over and over that he was a way better chef than those of the restaurants you had eaten at together on dates in the past. Even though it was less formal affair, you still made yourself look presentable, sporting an oversized jumper dress with a more relaxed approach to stick to wearing trainers, it wasn't like you would have them on long anyway. Minimal make up and a nice up do, packing your over night bag as you had the bright idea that you would stay over the night so that you didn't have to rush through the time you had together; you could take your time.

You packed pyjamas, why? Because you didn't know how comfortable you would be to sleep in your underwear next to a male who you weren't sure would want to see such a thing. He's a man, of course he fucking would; but you didn't want to come across eager.

It was about a 25 minute drive to where you needed to be, you were still nervous to see Joe after already seeing so much of each other in the last few weeks, it was still fresh to you but you knew as soon as you were together, the comfortability would kick in pretty much when you arrived and shared your first glances.

When you got to the front door, it opened before your fist had even touched the object. You stood there with it mid air, a small wolf whistle followed by the sweetest smile, his sweetest smile, teeth and all. Joe of course was dressed to the nines, shirt and trousers but as you looked down to check the full variety of what you had to stare it, you noticed the cute pink socks sticking out like a sore thumb underneath the foot of his trousers. You couldn't help but snigger a giggle.

"Real men wear pink." Were his first words.

"And you're looking sincerely sexy in those pink socks Joe." You both chortled out a bark of laughter as Joe gestured for you to come through before closing the door behind you.

Once you were no longer in view of the public, you were met by Joe's hand clutching around your waist, bringing you in to close the space between your bodies. You leaned upward to receive a content little peck on the lips, your hands placed on his chest to keep you steady as you brought your feet back down fully to ground level.

"You look beautiful, darling." Joe cooed.

"Oh stop it." You patted his chest as he hummed a chuckle.

"Thank you would be a better answer." He tilted his head to one side, unknowingly surprised with you reaching to share a more intimate kiss this time. As you pulled back, Joe sighed almost peacefully, the way you did when you had butterflies flipping around your stomach. The feeling was definitely most mutual.

"Okay you win, that was a perfect response." Joe took your hand once you had rested them back to your side and brought you into the kitchen/dining area where he pulled out your seat for you. You thanked him as you looked around to see how classy he had set out the cutlery, a small plate, a dinner plate and a wine glass. A jug of water in the middle of the table in case you needed it at any point throughout the meal.

"Smells divine in here." You gazed around the messy kitchen, the sign of a good hearty meal being cooked as well as it could be showed that he was pulling out all of the stops.

"I hope you're hungry, I made a little too much pasta." Joe pressed his lips into a thin line, furrowing his brow and shrugging his shoulders slightly at you.

"I meant you, the food smells good too."

"Oh stop it." Joe mimicked you, covering his hand over his mouth in a pathetic and quite frankly over dramatic attempt to pretend he was embarrassed over your compliment.

Joe poured the wine into your glass, insisting that you taste it to make sure it was the one that you had said you liked beforehand. Great memory. Perfect for the pasta dish that you were about to consume. The indeed heavenly smell of prawn tagliatelle with various vegetables was dished out in front of you. You ate everything, even went in for seconds, it was a good job you didn't eat much today and you had to all intents and purposes starved yourself so that you would be ravenous by the time you had your dinner date.

Was this man ever wrong in his assumptions? Nope. He was a sensational cook, his mum had clearly taught him a lot and he was well trained in the kitchen, perfect as you were up for a dinner date like this every night for the rest of your life if this was the quality of food you would receive.

To top it all off, he had also prepared dessert, an affogato served with home made pistachio ice cream, an eye rolling, taste bud tingling way to finish off your meal indeed. You had polished off the wine too quickly for your liking, the combination of wine heated your cheeks along with the warmth of the house and also being sat across from Joe probably didn't help the matter.

You had retired to the living room after helping him clean up. Joe had insisted that you were his guest and wouldn't lift a finger but after a playful and most valid argument between you, Joe accepted your point of it would get done faster if you did it together. Putting on a movie seemed like the best option to end a solid ten out of ten evening together, a romantic comedy that you had seen at least thirty times in your life. You downed the last of your wine in your glass and set it in front of you on the coffee table, snuggling into Joe's side, he caught the hint pretty quickly and lifted his arm to let you sink into him further. His hand stroked the bare skin of your shoulder where your jumper had faltered a little, sending goose bumps raging their way through your skin.

It wasn't long until the movie was forgotten about, a deeply passionate kiss provoked by Joe himself. He had smoothly managed to push his finger tip toward your jaw, putting enough pressure to make you look up toward him where his free hand came to cup your cheek, bringing you forward to softly connect your lips together. You lifted yourself up with the help of Joe to sit yourself directly on his lap, tongues now involved as begged at your bottom lip for entrance. The kiss became intense, your fingers ran through his untamed curls which were soft and a little frizzy from the humidity of cooking whilst your other hand was wrapped in the chains around his neck, pulling him to be as close to you as possible. The dimmed lighting added to the voluptuousness and your whole body was screaming with desire to be touched in anyway he would dare to.

The kiss broke intermittently as you both panted for just that little bit to regain the oxygen your lungs had lost in the last few minutes.

"Shall we go get a little more comfortable, love?" Joe offered, stroking his thumb over your cheek giving you a smile that could heal the world.

"I'd love to." Joe kept you in his grasp, lifting himself up off of the sofa and you instantly obliged to wrap your legs around his waist. He carried you upstairs and into his bedroom, using his elbow to switch on the light before he slowly set you down on your back onto the foam mattress that you immediately thought was going to be a great nights sleep from the instant comfort you felt. Joe rested himself by the side of you, propped up on one elbow as his hand magnetised itself straight back to your cheek. He examined your features for a moment, staring through into your soul, your eyes following every muscle that worked in the doe eyes that sparkled towards you.

"Just to be clear you do want-" Joe whispered shyly, but before he could finish it was a response you didn't even have to think about.

"I do, I really do." He knew you were on the same page, his lips coming back to join yours in the most gratifying and pleasurable kiss. Electricity was shooting it's way down to your core, followed by anxiety that he may not like what he saw underneath your clothing.

You broke the kiss this time, pushing all doubts out of your mind as you sat up to remove your jumper dress, leaving yourself in your matching underwear, slowly looking up to witness his reaction.

It was very much worth it.

Joe's eyes had grown lustful, extremely excited to see you looking so vulnerable for him. Joe pushed his hands towards the back of your bra, stopping for a second to look at you for reassurance.

"May I?"

You giggled. "You may."

Joe touched you delicately like you were made of porcelain, not wanting to break you but at the same time really wanting to feel every ounce of you. He massaged your breasts in the palm of his hands, lightly pinching your nipples and gaining a whimper from the sensitivity that it caused.

"You like that, baby?" Baby. That was the first time he had called you that and you hoped it would not be the last.

A stifling yes was all you could manage, his touch riling you up good and proper as he laid you down back into an easier position to access so that his mouth could taste where his fingers had just influenced.

Soft moans were making the erection in Joe's trousers twitch as he worked his way down with unhurried yet deliberate little embracing kisses down your body. His hands following where his lips had just caressed until he was knelt down before you, placing your feet at the edge of the bed, reaching upward to slide your panties down and fully off. You were stark naked and his bush baby eyes had never shimmered brighter than they were, his jaw could of fell to the floor the way his mouth gaped open looking down at you.

"You're so fucking beautiful, I am so lucky." There was that sigh again, oh so delightful to observe.

Joe planted more kisses along your thighs before working his way towards your slit, guiding his hands to open it up so that he could start by licking a small stripe down to the base of you with the tip of his tongue. A louder moan escaped you this time.

"Relax darling, I want to make you feel so good."

When he got into a more focussed position, his hands reached for yours, intertwining your fingers together as you both gave a little reassuring squeeze to let each other know it was okay. His muscle massaged against your clit, making the muscles in your legs twinge each time he slipped it over a particular spot. He pressed succulent kisses against you with each taste, humming and breathing in the scent of you.

"That feels so good." You mewled.

"Mmm." Joe answered, he was in too deep for a truly more accurate reply.

His movements got a little faster and heavier against your bud, your body squirming around the sheets, your fingers pressing harder into his knuckles before he let one of your hands go, your instant reaction was to massage your boob and play with yourself a little. Joe surprised you by pushing a finger inside of you, the cold metal of his ring touching your entrance when the entirety of his digit made it's way up. He added another shortly, curling them upwards but keeping the pace gently measured to really make you feel even better than you could have ever imagined.

It all ended too quickly as Joe pushed himself away from you, ridding the contact from his fingers and wiping the back of his hand over his mouth to dry himself off.

"Why did you stop?"

"I can't take it anymore, I need to feel myself inside of you, you feel too good like this, god knows how you'll feel like that." Joe undressed himself and you watched his defined figure unravel before you, gawking from his neck down, not too toned but just right. His cock stood to attention, leaking pre-cum from being so heavily turned on from his time during his little cunninglingus fun. You were impressed with everything he had to offer, why wouldn't you be impressed with the sheer just above average size he was packing.

"You are perfect Quinn." You bit down onto your bottom lip, hypnotising him immediately with the way your eyes clung to his.

"No baby, that's you." BABY. BABY. B A B Y.

Joe lined himself up over you, not letting you move from your previous state, silently insisting that you relax whilst he continued to make you both feel incredible. He rubbed his cock between your slit, gaining some of his own spit and your slick to lube him up for easier access.

"Are you sure-"

"I'm sure, baby." It was your turn to mock him whimsically but he seemed to drink it in as you did, the pet name in particular. Joe pushed himself inside of you slowly, inch by inch filling you, your walls instantaneously clenching around him sending a ferocious groan straight from Joe's mouth.

"Just as I thought." He said.

You giggled a little too suddenly. "What?"

"Heavenly."

Joe began to rock his hips back and fourth into you, the girth alone sent your back arching as he leant down, the muscles in his arms flexing to keep him hovering above you, his chains dangling around your chin as he thrusted back and fourth. Sharp breathes and the heat of passion were strong between the two of you, a rush of new found energy had you both singing each other's names like a prayer. The movements were sloppy yet so eager, fiery yet heartfelt. You looked into each others eyes with promise and sensibility. If you weren't mistaken, the look of love. Too lost in your thoughts, you were brought back down to the present to see Joe's lips moving, your hearing came back into play once you had stopped being so caught in your brain.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Never better."

"Did you hear what I said?" Joe pushed into you a little harder this time making you gasp.

"Evidently not." You breathed out a distorted moan followed by a chuckle.

"Be mine." Joe repeated himself hoping that you heard him loud and clear this time.

"I already am." You smiled as soon as he did, his lips crashed against yours, your heavily beautiful kiss moving in time with that of his hips, stopping sporadically to take a breath or to get out the breathless whimpers you needed to let escape.

The knot snapped inside your stomach when he hit one final thrust, sending you both over the edge together. Your bodies tingling from head to toe, the sensation you wished would last a lifetime and more from the stimulation and pure feeling you were eating up at this very moment.

"That was-" Joe was left stuttering so much that he had to pause.

"Amazing?" You finished.

"Exactly." Joe leaned down to kiss you one last time before pulling out, your orgasms rid to their full potential, it had made it all the more zealous to have reached your peaks together.

You ran to the bathroom to flush out what you needed to, cleaning yourselves up before returning to Joe's bed, the pyjamas long forgotten about that you had packed, a comforting thought that you now would be able to sleep skin to skin, happy and tranquil. Joe rushed downstairs to turn the tv off, not long after returning and making a huge leap towards the bed to which you jumped out of your skin when you realised he was almost about to crush you the same way he could have done the duckling on your second date.

It was all laughter and mind numbing chatter for the rest of the night, you laid in Joe's arms, your ear just resting above his heart which beat steady and relaxed.

"You meant it?" Joe mentioned and you looked up at him dazed and confused in your exhausted state.

"Meant what?" You asked.

"That you were mine." Joe looked deeply into your eyes, looking for the answers before you spoke them.

"Always."

"Perfect." Joe planted a kiss onto your forehead, his fingers making light work stroking up and down the top of your back.

"That's you." You nestled your face into his chest.

"Sweet dreams then, my darling girl."

You laid in the same position until the sun rose and the light dimmed it's way through the corners of Joe's curtains. A new day had never felt so good, especially beginning it in the arms of your man. Perfect.

#joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn angst #joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #joe quinn smut #joe quinn x reader

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m1ssunderstanding · 8 months

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Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 22

@javelinbk I’ve got another one for your “Paul McCartney doesn’t touch other men” compilation.

They’re really just going to keep goofing off with each other until the bitter end, aren’t they?

Who is this?? She’s gorgeous and I’m obsessed with her eye makeup.

I wonder if there’s a *reason* John broke randomly into “Run for your Life”. I’d actually feel better about that song if it was secretly about Paul, though I'd never considered it.

That face!

I’d actually love to know what Ringo and Billy were talking about that prompted that hug, though! I’m sure it must’ve been just so cute!

John saying “Okay Jim” to Paul. Reminds me of that quarrymen story where John called Paul that. Such an awkward nick-name, considering John hated Jim. Like I know Paul’s first name is James and all, but it’s just weird. I wonder if he called him that often and why and how Paul felt about it.

It’s physically impossible for two people to actually love each other that much and break up. I just. It’s not real. I can’t process it.

The fact that Paul wore a suit again, though, and plays standing. An example of Paul doing what makes him feel good whether it’s cool or not. He feels professional and put together in a suit and standing for the “performance” of these softer songs, so that’s what he’s going to do. I guess Ringo’s in a suit too, and tie. I just didn’t catch it at first because his tie and shirt are such a fun purple.

John focused on Paul for the entire song of “Two of Us” and Paul very purposely avoiding eye-contact. It’s like a much less painful, but still awful, reverse version of the strawberry fields moment.

The silly fake German. Paul’s “Ein Schwein, fille naught rhine.” Reminds me of John’s “Un. Du. Ein schwein hickle pickle” in front of “I Don’t Wanna Face It” which also used a very similar riff to “coming up”. IDK they’re just always talking. Always logging away every little eyelash flutter. Every meaningless thing means something with John and Paul. I know. I realize I’m fully certifiable.

“Are we supposed to giggle in the solo?” “Yeah.”

Paul’s just purposely ruined what’s probably like the five-hundredth take of Let it Be with his drunk uncle voice, and this is George. No matter how much he might want to stay annoyed at them, he never can.

I wonder when exactly John goes from “I think that was rather grand. I’d take one home with me.” on Let it Be to, “Yeah, he was just trying to write another bridge over troubled water. Could’ve been Wings.” When exactly did the meaning (dead mom says not to fight for your relationships) sink in that made him hate the song?

I love that we end on Paul saying, “we’ll do one more.” I love that there’s never a tied-up, clean-cut ending for the Beatles. There’s always a “Her Majesty” tacked on after “The End” to leave room to continue on.

#get back #paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #Thanks again everyone for all the support on these :)#40 days from now Paul and Linda get married #48 days until John and Yoko have their turn #232 days until John tells Paul he wants a divorce #434 days until Paul announces that they're over

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kindaasrikal · 2 months

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Kai headcanons because I’m tired and cant think of anything else:

Kai both does and doesn’t have a concept of monetary value. Like imagine they go grocery shopping and they need to buy essentials like ingredients, veggies, hygiene stuff to stock up on. Like usually whenever the other ninja went with their families they were able to buy some extras like candy or toys, maybe some more clothes despite having many just cause they like it or smth. With Kai? This guy slaps it out of their hands and says it’s not worth the waste when they’re only here for essentials. Wu gave them money for that only, so they best budget and make sure they can buy everything they need and maybe some extras of those things or else. None of them realise how confused Wu is when a proud Kai returns believing he saved up money by being smart and responsible, when Wu actually gave them extras to use there as like an implied thing. But when it comes to things of value, this guys has no idea what to do, take for example with Ronin. He had no idea how much the thing could cost but knew they had to pay it or else. But he’s also horrible at negotiating because he can’t properly understand the worth of what they’re negotiating the deal on and can’t see when it might be worse or better.

Kai was a shockingly quiet kid. Like yes he was still ‘aggressive’ and rude, but like never spoke on his own. Nya was always the talker between the two, but even she doesn’t talk as much as often. So usually Kai would silently accept a lot of things as a child until he grew older and got a bit of an attitude so despite being often silent that one quiet kid in the back who does everything right will and probably has cussed you out if you step out of line.

Nya actually cut Kai’s hair when they were younger because she was bored and Kai fell for her trap and ended up thinking it wad a great idea since his hair had gotten too long. She messed it up however since, you know, she was like max 6, and Kai’s hair came out nothing like the picture they had of their dads. Kai almost cried at how it didn’t turn out like how he wanted when Nya giggled and said his hair looks like a “Really cool fireee!”. No, Nya does not remember that she’s the reason Kai keeps his hair like that.

Kai loves fish, he likes dragging Nya outside to summon some and makes her stay with him until he’s bored. Nya likes eating fish.

Kai likes jumping into his rlly bulky and tall mechs and then posing like a school girl or a cute model in them. Jay once managed to convince him to Jojo pose and they distracted an enemy because of it. Cole and Lloyd cussed them out, except Cole couldn’t stop laughing and Lloyd’s hair kept blowing in the wind dramatically every time he changed his position so it looked like he posing. He made them run up and down the monastery mountain steps five times each way. Cole too.

You know those really cute candle holders? So like Kai convinced Pixal to make him a fire proof bear suit, wore it outside in the dark, in the middle of the training ground, with everyone asleep. He lit himself on fire and he looked like a glowing monster bear with teeth and blood (shadows and ketchup, he was hungry). He thought it looked cute and cool. Zane screaming, malfunctioning, and then screeching “THY BEAST MUST BE SLAIN!” And shooting ice at him was not a part of the plan (Zane watched Macbeth the movie before sleeping). Both refuse to apologise to each other but after a day of ignoring one another Jay watches as Kai clings to a Zane full koala like when he’s doing chores.

Cole tries to teach Kai how to draw. Kai, for the life of him, cannot. Even stickmen look wonky and wrong.

Kai, surprisingly enough, has amazing handwriting. Everyone gets him to write stuff like letters for them because either theres is worse then a kid in nursery, or they wanna impress someone.

Kai really likes having something around his arms, like bandages, gloves, cloth, anything. For special events, he lets Cole tie silk ribbons around his arms like bandages.

Kai wishes he had soft hands. Everyone loves the feeling of his rough hands though. It comforts them.

Kai also loves cracking his knuckles. He loves doing it around Wu, who hates the noise and smacks Kai with his staff, who cackles and does it again.

At bad times in his life, Kai sits and lights a fire when the moon is at its highest point, out in the dark where it’s cold.

Kai loves stealing Jay’s action figures by accident. Jay was annoyed at first until he saw Nya giving Skylor an unintentional wide eyed look whilst holding a doll after Skylor said “oh, yeah i forget i had this old thing, don’t really like it tbh” disinterestedly. Jay put together whats what when Skylor blinked and said Nya could have it with a grin, who legit giggled. Nya. Giggling. Jay puts his action figures on a shelf and never touches them, giving an impression to someone who isn’t a collector (who couldn’t afford to be one) that they aren’t that important. Jay begins buying more action figures and other stuff he usually wouldn’t but knows Kai or Nya would love and leave it somewhere like it’s always been there. Says something under is breath just loud enough for a peeping ear to hear about how he might throw it away, and the next day its gone. Sometimes, he outright hands it to them saying he doesn’t like it but doesn’t wanna waste it. The other ninja, plus Pixal and Wu, pick up whats going on and do the same. Later in the years (after the re-design and sog) Kai and Nya long picked up on whats going on, they still love it regardless because it makes them feel less guilty (no no guys they definitely didn’t break down sobbing after Jay gave them a water themed colouring book for adults and Kai a mimic of Mitsuri Kanroji’s sword from demon slayer (a fake), definitely not.)

(Lowkey just realised this is very similar to a Morro fanfic of ao3, No i did not realise it when i wrote it but i do now, its where Morro likes collecting seemingly useless stuff left in places no one would leave smth special at. It’s because Morro was a homeless orphan, so he takes useless things in to give them importance. Love that head canon and fanfic it’s on ao3 guys omg. Imagine resurrected Morro doing that and Kai and Nya just realising in horror that THEY do that too. They get it, and dammit Morro is more similar to them than they would’ve liked.)

Kai totally likes wearing those happy birthday head bands even when it’s not his birthday and acts like he isn’t. If someone says happy birthday to him, he looks at them all judgy like and says “Its not my birthday? What gave you that impression?”

Kai actually easily gets sick, and hates it. The others have to time his down so he’ll actually get rest and not just push through it regardless. It takes summoning the duo of Wu AND Maya to get him to stop.

When the og four ninja met for the first time and right after they stopped Garmadon and got back to their realm, they still hadn’t actually gotten to know each other so Kai used to run away from them like the secret introvert he was groomed into being and it took Nya tackling him to get him to finally play those “super cringy bonding games”

Kai was subjected to Lloyd’s glowing green eyes staring at him constantly with no words exchanged. When the silence got too much and Lloyd just kept staring Kai asks what his problem is. Lloyd says “oh nothing, muchacho” and Kai realises Lloyd is still petty over what happened in the first episode.

Yeah thats all i got i think I’m sick shdgfv

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n1ght0wl-0 · 1 month

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Five x female!reader

Relationships: Five x female!reader

Summary: Five and y/n landed pretty harshly, and now bickering ensues.

Notes: I hate season four.

"Oh fuck," Five groans, trying to right himself. His back is hurting, and his head is throbbing. Time traveling is a tricky thing, especially the damn landings.

Next to him, y/n huffs but makes no movement to stand up. She's just lying like a heap on the floor. Her skirt is rumpled, and her shirt is even worse.

"You alive?" Five asks dryly, stumbling to his feet. Reaching out, he straightens his lapels and adjusts his tie. His uniform is a little wrinkled, but it doesn't look too bad.

"Uh-huh," y/n hums, not moving a finger. Her face is pinched, looking as if she's deeply suffering. "You should work on your landings, darling."

Five kicks her absently. Not hard—he's not aiming to hurt her, after all.

"You should work on your clothes; you look like a witch."

Y/n gasps, staring up at Five. She smooths out her clothes. Yes, she's dressed darkly and maybe a little too young for her mental age, but she finally has the body for it again.

"I look *adorable*, thank you very much," she huffs, taking all her strength to sit up. Then she stares into nothing. "My whole body aches."

Five rolls his eyes, but he *does* reach out a hand to her. He feels her slim fingers in his grasp and gently pulls her up.

"That's your bad. At least your body isn't old anymore," he says with a grin, receiving a weak slap against his arm.

"How long have we known each other now? Probably way too long..." y/n scoffs. "And you're still such an asshole."

"42 years now, honey. And I'm still as charming as ever, you know it."

Y/n grins, then she pulls away from him. He watches as she moves over to the suitcase that's lying uselessly on the ground.

"Don't—" She kicks it. "touch it..."

The suitcase falls over, still smoking weakly.

"I think we can forget that old thing," she says, stating the obvious. She runs a hand through her hair before turning back to him.

Five looks at her for a moment, silent. He walks over to her and stares at the suitcase, sighing into the silence.

"That was pretty obvious. I always told them to make them bulletproof," Five grumbles.

"Mhm. I remember. Eric was really pissed after a few weeks," she snorts. "Didn't he retire some time after?"

"You still remember his name? He was pretty useless," he muses, throwing a last glance toward the suitcase before turning around and walking down the room. "Do you know where we are?"

"No clue." Another small kick to the suitcase.

"Stop it. You're being irritating," he huffs. "I think it's still 2019. Oh yes, I think I'm seeing Diego down there."

"The spandex guy?"

Five snorts, then he huffs out a laugh.

"It's leather," he says exaggeratedly, mimicking his brother. Y/n bumps their shoulders gently and rolls her eyes.

"Let him be. He thinks he's cool," she says, looking at him. "I still remember how cool you felt when you wore your first real suit."

"But I looked good in my suit."

"You were the most handsome man ever," y/n says, placing a hand on his back. Then she grins. "But the school uniform is also very cute."

Five huffs, looking at her.

"Shut it. At least I don't look like I'm going through my emo phase."

"My emo phase is hot," y/n argues easily. "But your shorts—"

Five reaches out and slaps the back of her head. Then he leans over and kisses her temple.

He can almost hear y/n's loud groan from down there.

"Let's just go," he says, turning around and teleporting out of the building.

#tua #five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #five x reader #reader insert #x reader #female!reader

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kaialone · 1 month

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Official Guilty Gear Anthology- Short Story "Paper Bags Are Neat" (English Translation)

This will be a full English translation of the short story "Paper Bags Are Neat", written by だばば (Dababa)

It's the second out of five short stories included in the "Official Guilty Gear Anthology", which was available online for a limited time only from April 1st to April 8th 2024, as part of April Fools' Day celebrations.

Paper Bags are Neat

"Ahh…"

It was a day with heavy rain. And although Faust held tightly onto his umbrella while he was out on a walk, a car recklessly passed by him at tremendous speed. He was pelted by a torrent of large water droplets, drenching him from head to toe. Of course, the paper bag he was wearing got completely soaked as well.

Stumbling, Faust hurried back home. Without delay, he washed his hands, gargled, and dried off his entire body. Then, he gingerly removed the now soggy and limp paper bag from his head…

And rather than throwing it away, he placed it on a well-ventilated shelf—which he called "the waiting room"—before rushing to the closet.

He opened the door to reveal a large variety of paper bags stuffed inside.

"Which… to choose…?"

With fingers as thin as dead twigs, he browsed through the paper bags, one by one.

A paper bag that would suit his current mood… A paper bag with a style he hadn't chosen recently…

A rainy, splashy, blue kind of mood…

"Blue…?"

He pulled out a thick, glossy, deep blue paper bag. It was durable, and even seemed water-repellent, so maybe he could get back at the rain with this one.

Triumphantly, Faust jabbed the bag with his finger, to poke a hole into it.

"…Ow."

It was too durable, so that wasn't gonna work out!

"Next patient, please…"

His next pick was a white paper bag with an embossed floral pattern, and foil stamping on all four corners.

He'd forgotten how he obtained such a whimsical, lovely paper bag, but he just quickly poked a hole in it, put it on, and looked in the mirror.

"Ah… cute…"

He was so cute. To think that he had the potential to be this cute…

…To think that just one choice could make him feel this excited about himself…

"Mustn't… get hooked…"

He really shouldn't be relying on something such as this to get attention. So, he shook his head, and decided to pass up on it this time.

"Next patient, please…"

For now, he wanted to choose the same type of paper bag he always wore.

To the untrained eye, they looked like completely ordinary kraft paper bags with no strings. However, according to Faust, kraft paper not only comes in unbleached, semi-bleached, bleached, and other variants, plus hundreds of different colors—but if you also consider aspects such as the thickness of the paper or jagged edges, no two paper bags in the world are the same.

Therefore, two thirds of the closet were filled with what looked like regular paper bags. But to Faust, each and every one of them was both precious and priceless.

One of them caught his eye, so he picked it up to try it out. It seemed almost ideal in terms of texture, size, how easy it was to poke a hole in it, and how secure it felt to him.

He swiftly poked a hole into it and put it on.

"Whoa…"

It smelled of delicious bread. If it ends up being sunny tomorrow, he should go out and get another paper bag like this one.

#guilty gear #guilty gear strive #faust guilty gear #guilty gear faust #official guilty gear anthology #guilty gear translations #my translations #I wanted to post my translation of this for Faust's birthday because I really like this story #please check this out if you havent already

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centaurisolarflare · 2 years

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König Headcannons

Someone tell me what absolute crack they’re sprinkling these masked Call of Duty men with. I’ve got major König brainrot and this got wildly out of hand, like a five-page word doc out of hand – I had to just stop because it got so long. Might do an NSFW one, lmk if you’d want that. I love you all dearly, enjoy!

- He’s really good at Tetris. Don’t ask me how or why I arrived at this conclusion, I myself have no idea. Dude just likes Tetris. It’s fast paced and demands his attention so he can usually sit still if he’s focused on the game.

- Compulsively chews the skin off his lips and the inside of his cheeks. Can’t help it. Used to bite his nails but that faded throughout his military involvement as he wears gloves pretty much all the time.

- This man has a list of things about you memorized. He covets each piece of information. He knows not only your favorite kind of tea but exactly how you like it prepared. Knows every single favorite you’ve ever mentioned – foods, flowers, books, movies, weather, what songs or types of music you’ll listen to depending on your mood, the colors you like and the colors you think you look best wearing, if you prefer gold or silver jewelry, etc. etc.

-- Started keeping this list long before he ever actually really spoke to you with things he overheard you say. He was so worried he’d slip up and you’d think he was creepy.

- Fucking loves giving you things. Like I said, he has all your favorites memorized, so it’s easy for him to grab things when he sees them. MFer would give you a rock if it made you happy, he just loves seeing your face light up.

-- Toward the beginning of you two, when he knew he liked you but was still too anxious and shy to really interact with you, it was so much easier for him to pack all his sentiment and feelings into the things he gave you. He could push them into your hands with maybe a word or two — sometimes literally just saying “here” or “for you”, though often it was without saying anything at all — and hope you got the intended messages of “I thought of you; this suits you; I want you to enjoy this; I care about you”.

-- He heard you mention some obscure recently published book you wanted to read one time and he immediately began looking for it. When he found it, he bought it with an intensity that scared the bookshop owner; he nearly slammed it on the counter and shoved a handful of money at them, he was just so damn excited to be able to give it to you. And yet, he still carried it around in one of the bigger pockets on his gear for days because he was nervous to actually give it to you in person

-- Gives you food all the time. Just appears next to you holding out something or another and vanishes before you’re even done saying thank you. You could be stationed anywhere and somehow this man has found? made? acquired? something delicious and he will be giving it to you.

- On that topic, he’s a really good cook. Like legitimately everything he even attempts to make comes out amazing. He loves when you hang out with him in the kitchen while he cooks.

-- The first time you offered to help he was so startled he nearly dropped a knife. He comes to loves how seamlessly you two work together and move around each other in the kitchen.

-- He gets to listen to you talk but the tasks at hand give him something to focus on and do, which makes the heat of your attention and his supplying the other half of the conversation easier to bear.

-- Plays quiet music as he cooks, asks you for songs to put on and loves hearing you sing along as you work

-- He loves when you hop up on the counter, you look so cute swinging your legs and watching what he’s doing.

-- Will absolutely do the nonna thing where he swats at your hand if you try to steal something before the dish is ready but he also does the nonna thing where he’ll chop extra veggies so you can eat a few, or he’ll give you a handful of chocolate chips before using the bag. Basically, snacking is fine as long as it’s König approved snacking.

---- One time, when he walked back into the kitchen to see you sneaking bites out of the pot on the stove, he reflexively swatted your backside with the dishtowel he’d had over his shoulder. He turned bright fucking red when you whipped around, shock written all over your face and the wooden spoon still in your hand. Immediately began stumbling over his words trying desperately to explain himself, god he was so fucking stupid and he felt like a chasm was opening up in his chest, until you broke out in a grin and started laughing so hard you got tears in your eyes. He was still mumbling apologies as he went to add spices to the pot, still bright red because you were leaning against his side trying to catch your breath.

-- Loves sharing the things you make together, loves sitting down and having meals with you

-- I also think he has a sweet tooth and he’d love it if you liked to bake

-- While we’re talking about food, I think he really enjoys clementines for some reason. The fruit looks extra small in his hands as he takes the rind off, he’ll always pull it apart and offer you half

- Loves snow. Like kid-rushing-to-the-window loves snow. Stands outside with his head tilted back watching it fall.

- Rarely gets cold, he’s like a walking furnace.

- Trust issues af. Distanced himself from you, especially when he found himself liking you.

- Dude is big. Really big. He’s aware of that. But he never really thought about certain applications of his size; like how your hand fits in his, how your eyes shine when you look up at him, how his fingers fit around your waist/throat/wrists/thighs, how you look wearing his clothes, etc.

- You’re his first kiss and he is nearly shaking out of his own skin when it happened, but he makes up for the nerves and inexperience with hesitant enthusiasm and pure adoration.

- His phone screen is cracked. Badly.

- Good with animals, the type of person to be going about his day with a cat perching itself on his shoulder. Oddly loves waterfowl – birds like ducks and geese and swan.

- Good with kids in a quiet way. He’s a little awkward with them, they’re so unpredictable and don’t really have filters so they’re a little terrifying, but they adore him. He listens and nods as they babble, lets them hang off his arms, and gives as many piggyback rides as he’s asked for.

-- Would love it if you were good with kids. If you were playful and indulged their imaginations, yet you took them seriously when they had questions and concerns. It’s a bittersweet thing to see you being so attentive and caring because he would have done anything for someone so kind when he was younger.

- Loves when you sit close to him and press your thigh against his, or when you stand and lean against him

- Either cannot make eye contact or stares. If you’re doing something that requires your visual attention but still talking to him, like driving, he’d be staring directly at you the whole time; until you glace at him in the passenger seat and suddenly he’s looking at anything else

-- When he gets flustered, he tends to look upwards and trys to even out his breathing

- Speaking of driving, he absolutely says “horses” or “cows” when you pass a field of animals. Totally monotone and watches them as you pass by.

- Took him a while to get accustomed to casual touches from you, even longer for more intimate touches, but once he’s comfortable he cannot get enough. Touchstarved.

- Opens every single door for you

- Talks too fast and gets flustered when he trips over his words, which doesn’t help him speak any slower. He has poor volume regulation and either talks either way too quiet – and mumbles when he does – or way too loudly.

- He doesn’t usually stutter but it happens a lot around you. He wants so badly to talk to you but you’re so kind and pretty and his thoughts are going a million miles an hour in about four different directions, and he just ends up so nervous. He tries to say two things at once and stutters through his sentence, he tries to say one thing but abandons it half way through to say something else, repeats certain words, and of course stutters on certain letters.

-- He’d be so so grateful if you didn’t laugh or mock him. He’s used to people finding ways to get out of talking to him, inventing reasons to cut conversations short, for a whole host of reasons – his accent, how intimidating he looks, the way he talks, the tripping up on words – and he remembers when he was younger and either no one wanted to speak to him or he’d get bullied for speaking at all.

-- He loves that you’re patient and let him work through his sentences – and he will, because he really does want to talk to you if he could just sort his brain out.

-- The effort you put into making him comfortable, making him feel at ease talking to you, knocks the air out of his lungs. The attention sometimes makes his anxiety flare up, but he can’t help but love your dedication to talking with him.

- On kind of the same topic, he will make noises or hand gestures to communicate. Sometimes only responds with a “hmm” or “mmhm” but he is paying rapt attention and wants you to keep talking, he just can’t make his own words work right then.

- If you are outwardly confident, maybe even a little cocky, he eats that shit up. Winking while telling him you’ve got it, grinning after an impressive display of competence.

-- If you speak up for him or defend him, he’ll lose his mind

- He loves playing with your hands. He’ll do it absentmindedly – rubbing circles on the back of your palm, toying with your fingers, tracing over the ridge of your knuckles – and always blushes when he realizes, no matter how many times you tell him it’s alright.

-- If he gets more comfortable and in a relationship with you, he’ll lace your fingers together and pull your hand to his mouth so he can kiss the back of it.

-- Also, if you put your hand on his face and hold his cheek he’ll grab your wrist – fingers wrapping all the way around it and then some – press your hand more firmly against his face, and turn his head to kiss your palm.

- Never feels like he’s allowed to touch you and will kind of linger around you until you initiate something or ask him what he needs (embarrassed as hell when you make him tell you exactly what he needs in a more NSFW context, but he loves it). Will always always always ask before touching you if he’s the one initiating. Once you do give him permission, he’s on you like a shot.

-- Clingy as fuck. Always wants to be near you. If he can’t be next to you he’ll keep his eyes on you, you’ve lost count of the number of times you’ll look at him to find he’s already watching you.

-- Uses his strength to his advantage when he wraps his arms around you and won’t let you get out of bed in the morning.

-- Loves when you hug him so tight he thinks maybe you’ll crack his ribs, it feels so safe and he’ll rest his head on top of yours. I also think he’d be the type to hug so than his arms are under yours; yes, he knows it makes the whole thing less convenient because he has to lean down more, but he wants to be able to draw you in against his chest as securely as he can.

- He has stretchmarks on his arms/back/thighs from growing so much so fast. He’s really self-conscious about them.

-- I also think as a result of growing so fast there was a period of time when he was young where he’d faint in the mornings. There’s a type of syncope that can occur during the years growth spurts happen, especially when a child grows a lot, caused by a lack of blood (oxygen) to the brain; it’ll happen especially after getting up from sleep, due to slow blood circulation, and in the shower, due to the warm temperature and humidity. He’d just space out, get black spots or narrowing vison, and pass out. Wake up quickly, maybe with a little vertigo, and be fine.

- Remembers and treasures every single complement and nice thing you’ve said to or about him. Complements and praise make him a mess.

- Can weave flower crowns.

- If you wear makeup, he loves watching you put it on. Maybe one day you’ll doll him up with it and tell him how pretty he is.

- Not fond of needles, doesn’t have any tattoos or piercings.

- Not super comfortable with PDA.

- In private, he loves kissing your forehead and the top of your head. When he’s more comfortable with you he’ll stoop over to kiss to the back of your neck, gently brushing your hair out of the way to press his lips right above the last knob of your spine.

-- Loves kissing you when he’s sitting down and you’re straddling his lap, his thighs splayed out and you raised up on your knees to accommodate for his height, one hand on your waist and one up grasping at the back of your neck, and you kiss him filthy and tell him how good he is. He’s inexperienced so he gets overwhelmed quickly, resting his forehead on your shoulder and panting while he tries to focus on anything other than how badly he wants to pull your hips down and rut against you. He’s definitely cummed in his pants befo- *I am forcibly removed from the stage*

- Babyboy gets flustered and embarrassed so easily, has a blush than spreads down to his chest.

- Loves having inside jokes with you. Loves the side glances you shoot him, your suppressed smile, the little nudge you give him with your shoulder or elbow

-- Loves that you two talk enough to have these jokes and references, and that you remember them. It reassures him that you enjoy talking to him.

-- He especially, maybe selfishly, loves when someone asks about the glances and the snickering and you tell them that it’s an inside joke, that you refuse to offer any further explanation, that you want these little jokes to be yours and his alone.

- Loves when you play with his hair, lets out very contented hums when you scratch your nails over his scalp.

- Gives you massages. He’s really good at it, big hands, okay, and he’s so warm. Especially likes relieving your shoulders, back, and hands but will give diligent attention to any of your sore muscles.

- Doesn’t wear any jewelry but is absolutely the type to wear a little woven threads or beaded bracelet forever just because you gave it to him

- Because of how tall he is, he’s used to being cramped up when he sleeps so he sort of always curls up as much as he can when he sleeps, even if he has room to stretch out.

-- If you’re near him while he’s asleep there’s a good chance he’ll wrap himself around you.

- He has so many little fun facts on an absurdly large number of topics and could ramble for hours about the subjects that particularly interest him.

-- If you mention something you’re interested in he will do extensive research to learn about it. He wants to show you he cares and he also wants to be informed so he doesn’t make himself look like an idiot in front of you.

- Loves teaching you things, he feels more sure of himself when he’s instructing you through something he’s knowledge about.

-- Loves being taught as well, he’s very good at following directions and always wants to impress you.

- Never forgets birthdays, anniversaries, or any other important dates. This man will remember your pets birthdays.

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bitethedevil · 4 months

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Living with The Devil You Know (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 5

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen

Read this fic on AO3 (Link)

Fic Summary: Tav broke their agreement by handing the Crown of Karsus to Mystra instead of Raphael. Not only that, but she also robbed his house and killed his incubus. Raphael is patient and he is determined to get his revenge.

…Tav isn't too bothered. She will figure something out eventually. Until then she just has to find a way to live peacefully with a devil.

Chapter Summary: Raphael is in a good mood. He teaches Tav how to play the organ and sings The Song™ to her under very special circumstances. At the same time, Gale is worried and tries to make a rescue plan with Astarion and Shadowheart.

(AN: I know absolutely nothing about music so bear with me if I use the wrong terminology. I can warmly recommend to also listen to the song while reading *that part*. Enjoy a look into Raphael's questionable flirting techniques and some very very spicy organ lessons.)

WARNING: NSFW

Tav had decided not to glamour her face and keep her burn scars visible. She had looked in the mirror in the morning and found that she agreed with Raphael: they did suit her, in an odd way. She felt that she looked more like herself with them, albeit a version of herself that she had not seen for years.

Tav spent the day with Cassius watching her, much to her dismay. He was the only one in the House of Hope who still treated her as a prisoner. He had hated her guts since she cast that sleep spell on him to contact her friends and then convinced him not to say anything.

Cassius did not even try to hide his reaction to her scars. There was a look of slight disgust on his face as he looked at them. Then again, Tav thought. That could also just be his face. Cassius tended to look at her with that annoying sneer as if she was below him, which she had largely begun to ignore.

She started wondering whether there might be more to his clear dislike for her. It did not go past her that Cassius had visited Raphael privately in his boudoir one or two times during the first couple of days of her imprisonment.

Although, she had not noticed any visits between them after her and Raphael had sex that one time. Was it possible that the tiefling was jealous of her in some odd way? Cassius had probably been Raphael’s new favorite pet until she was forcibly dragged to the House of Hope to sleep in his master’s bed each night and take up a considerable amount of his attention.

It was hard for her to garner any sort of sympathy for Cassius though. He treated her like dirt and often tried to provoke her whenever he was tasked to watch her for the day. Whatever was up the warlock’s ass, Tav did not feel responsible for whatever ill feelings he might have towards her. He could take it up with Raphael if he so pleased.

She was waking up from a nap when she heard music playing somewhere in the house. She rolled out of bed and started walking out of the boudoir with Cassius at her heels.

“Where are you going?” Cassius asked.

“Does it matter when you’re tasked with following me anyways?” Tav asked tiredly at his comment.

“You disturb him all the time,” Cassius said, knowing she was on her way to find Raphael. “You don’t think it would be possible that he’d want a moment of peace?”

“If he wanted peace, he shouldn’t have given me free roam of the house,” Tav said. “Or have denied me my own little moment of peace, for that matter…”

“Suit yourself, but one day you will get on his nerves and then he might be inclined to teach you your place,” Cassius said with a sneer.

“It’s really cute that you worry so much about me,” Tav teased him, just to piss him off.

The music got louder as they got to the archive. Tav stuck her head in to greet Raphael with a smile. He was in his human form. Raphael stopped playing the organ and gave her a smile back. He seemed to be in a good mood for some reason.

“It sounds good,” Tav said. “You don’t mind if I sit and read while you’re playing, do you?”

“Please,” Raphael said and gestured to a nearby chair.

Tav widened her smile and threw a glance at Cassius who was awkwardly standing at the entrance, glaring daggers at her. Raphael did not even acknowledge his presence. She sat down with a book, and he started playing again.

“Do you play, mouse?” Raphael asked and looked at her. He was still playing perfectly on the organ despite not even looking at the keys.

The melody he was playing reminded her of a predator slowly sneaking up on its prey. It sounded beautiful but it was also quite dark. Just what she would expect from someone like him.

“I did a little bit once,” she answered and then gestured to his fingers that were elegantly dancing over the keys with ease. “Nothing as complicated as that though.”

“It really is not that complicated,” he said and then stopped playing to hold a hand out to her. “Let me show you.”

The smirk on his face told her that he was up to something, but she took his hand regardless. In one swift movement, he pulled her closer and seated her in his lap. Her eyes widened a bit at the gesture.

“You certainly seem to be in high spirits tonight,” she noted.

“I am,” he said and rested his chin on her shoulder to look at the keys. “I closed a deal that has been quite the headache for me and successfully retrieved something of mine.”

“Do I want to know the specifics?” Tav asked.

She did not particularly want to know which poor bastard Raphael had roped into giving him their soul, but she was worried that he might be talking about her companions.

“It has nothing to do with your dear little friends, if that is what you are asking,” Raphael said as if he had read her mind and grabbed her hands to move them to the keys in front of her. “Now concentrate.”

He showed her what she knew was a simplified version of the melody he had just been playing. She could not play as fast or as elegantly as Raphael did, but she gave it a try.

“Good,” he purred in her ear and snaked an arm around her waist, making it even more difficult for her to play. “Keep practicing.”

Raphael shifted his head away from her shoulder to look at Cassius for a moment.

“You can go home for the day,” Raphael said to him absentmindedly and then turned his attention back to Tav.

Tav could see Cassius at the corner of her eye. He looked pissed. He gave Raphael a forced smile and a bow before leaving.

“I see that your health has improved after our little accident last night,” Raphael said. “I also could not help but notice that you decided to keep your scars present like I told you to.”

Tav smiled at the word choice of ‘our little accident’ as if she was to blame as well for him almost killing her. She decided to ignore it.

“I did,” Tav said. “But not because you told me to.”

Raphael chuckled. She would not give him the satisfaction of telling him that he was right, and he knew it.

“Stubborn as ever,” he said. “What did you do today?”

“Napped,” she answered, while still trying to get the hang of the melody.

“How productive,” Raphael said sarcastically and corrected the position of her fingers on the organ. “Am I wrong in assuming that you might be growing a tad bored?”

“It’s hard to do anything with someone watching you all the time…” she said. “Besides…I do miss some of my old books,”

“Hm,” he hummed. “Did you have a favorite?”

“I do but it’s embarrassing…and terribly cliché…” she said and stopped playing for a moment.

Tav’s favorite book was an old romantic tragedy that was well-known to be the favorite novel of just about every woman in Faerûn.

“Don’t be shy,” Raphael purred.

“’A Star in the Darkness’ by Bibella Aldath…” she answered and started playing again.

“Yes, that is rather cliché, dear,” Raphael said and chuckled. “Not a horrible read by any means, but I did expect something slightly more exciting from a former librarian…”

Tav was slowly getting the hang of the melody and her fingers moved over the organ’s keys a little easier now that she had played it a couple of times.

“Better,” he purred in her ear. “You know, this is a very special composition of mine…”

“Oh?” Tav said and kept playing.

“It would have been the very last thing you and your dear friends would ever hear had you decided to steal your contract that day when you robbed my house,” Raphael said. She could practically hear the smile on his face.

“Oh, you wrote music just for us?” Tav asked with amusement in her voice. “How thoughtful of you. It’s such a shame we didn’t get to hear it then.”

“Isn’t it just?” Raphael asked. “But there is time for it yet…when your friends finally decide to pay us a visit.”

Good luck with that, Tav thought.

Tav stopped playing for a moment when she felt Raphael’s hands slowly caress her sides.

“Don’t let me distract you,” he said. “Keep playing.”

She did, but it was getting increasingly difficult not to mess up when he was touching her like that. She felt her body heat up at his touches.

He nuzzled his nose into the back of her hair, taking in her smell. His hand gently moved one of the straps of her top, so that it slipped off her shoulder. He left a soft kiss where the strap had been and slowly trailed his kisses up towards her neck. It was hard to hide how her breathing got shallower.

It made her fingers fall over a few of the keys, which made him smile against her neck.

“How clumsy of you, my dear,” he whispered into her ear. “Try again.”

She took a slow breath and kept playing. The hand that had been caressing her side was snaking up her stomach towards one of her breasts. She took another slow deep breath to not lose focus.

He started fondling her breast through the silk of the top she was wearing. He continued slowly kissing his way up her neck as he touched her. She felt her nipples hardening and once again she played the wrong keys.

“Tut-tut…I really would have expected a wizard of your caliber to have much better grasp on their concentration,” Raphael said and bit firmly but not hard on her neck.

“It is also really rare that someone is touching me while I cast spells,” she said with what was supposed to be frustration, but the breathiness of her voice revealed how much she was into it.

He smirked against her neck.

“Keep playing…” he ordered again.

She did. His hand moved from her breasts to between her legs. She was already soaked when his hand slid under the waistband of her pants, and he started teasing her with his fingers. She did manage to keep her focus on playing…for about a minute. He stopped the movements of his fingers the second she stopped playing.

“Keep going, mouse,” he whispered in her ear. “And I might give you what you want.”

She bit her lip and put her full focus into playing that damned melody that would most likely be stuck in her head for days. Tav had gotten the impression of Raphael as a selfish lover the last time they fucked. She quickly learned that the man absolutely knew what he was doing when he put the effort in to please someone.

The way he was touching her quickly turned her into a moaning mess and he somehow knew that she was getting close. He stopped his movements for a moment, making her whine in frustration.

“From the top,” he ordered and placed another kiss on her neck.

Tav did as she was told and played the melody from its beginning.

That is when he started singing.

His hand started moving between her legs again, making her moan. There were a lot of feelings going through her. Her eyes widened in amusement and surprise as he started singing. He sang in a lowered voice, taking her close proximity into consideration. She felt that lovely voice of his rumble through his chest, which only somehow made her even more wet.

“Hell, hell, hell has it’s laws / Hell, hell, effect and the cause / Curtain falls, but hold your applause / Squirm, squirm, for now down here come the claws…”

She was unable to keep her moans quiet as he was driving her towards orgasm. It took all of her brainpower to keep focusing on playing.

“Fools, fools, how hard you have fought / Brave, brave but its all been for naught / True souls, that couldn’t be bought / Doomed, detected and caught…”

The way his voice growled in her ear on the last word, made her shiver and moan louder. She was so close. Close to both her orgasm and the end of the song. She could not fuck it up now.

“No more deals, it’s over / The final act, your doom / No more grace, it’s over…”

Her orgasm started washing over her, making her squirm in his lap. Her moans got louder and Raphael rubbed her clit faster.

“This House of Hope,” He growled into her ear. “Your tomb…”

The loud sounds she made of her finally reaching her orgasm matched almost perfectly with his prolonged note of the last line. It seemed a bit too intentional and made her think: he has done stuff like this before.

She slumped back against his chest, her legs shaking and her chest heaving from the intensity of it. He removed his fingers and lifted them to her lips to make her clean them off. He pressed them between her lips. She sucked on them, earning her a groan from him. She had been too busy multi-tasking to notice just how hard his cock was under her.

“Beautiful, dear,” he purred and kissed her cheek. “Perhaps, we should perform it just like this when your friends drop by. Give them a show before they meet their end…”

How did he manage to say that in a way that made her aroused rather than angry? Something was deeply, deeply, fucking wrong with her.

Gale, Shadowheart, and Astarion had met in a secluded corner of the Elfsong.

Gale had been lecturing them on devils, cambions, and the Hells for about an hour now. Shadowheart and Astarion exchanged tired glances.

“Gale—”

“I’m just telling you that we can beat him,” Gale said. “It will not be easy, but we can.”

“She asked us not to go,” Shadowheart said. “Tav believes it’s a trap, so let’s not do anything stupid.”

“Also,” Astarion piped in. “It really is a novel concept for me to be the voice of reason here, but your little plan doesn’t seem to make sense. Lae’zel, Karlach, and Wyll are off doing whatever it is they do. Our little band consists of a wizard, two wizards if Tav is able to join the battle, a cleric, and little old me. Three spellcasters and a vampire who, by the way, can’t even be in Avernus since there is no night…”

“He’s right,” Shadowheart said as she looked at Gale.

“So, we will bring someone else as well…Halsin, Jaheira, or Minsc,” Gale said. “We can’t just leave her there!”

“Gale…” Shadowheart sighed.

“There were also that woman, Hope,” Gale continued. “If we could manage to sneak into her prison, we could free her as well. I’m sure she would be eager to help us fight Raphael.”

“Gale,” Shadowheart said again. “Let it go. Let’s wait until we hear more from her. We have no idea what we could possibly be walking into here.”

“She could be rotting in a dungeon, getting tortured right now. Who knows if she’s even still alive? I won’t leave her there! She—” Gale voice cracked, and he cleared his throat in an attempt to hide the emotions that were welling up inside him. “…Excuse me…She forfeited her soul so that we could give the Crown to Mystra. I have a difficult time not feeling responsible for this.”

Shadowheart’s, and even Astarion’s, expression softened slightly as they saw the toll it was taking on Gale.

“That woman has done so much for us,” Gale said. “We have to get her back somehow.”

“Alright,” Shadowheart said with a sigh. “Let’s not do anything hasty before we’ve learned more about what we are dealing with. She told us ‘not to listen to him’ in her message, but we haven’t heard from Raphael at all…He might try to offer us some sort of deal.”

“It really is unlike him,” Astarion said. “That bastard usually isn’t shy when it comes to popping up at the most inconvenient times.”

“He might want us to be desperate,” Gale said and rubbed his face as he tried to think. “Raphael doesn’t know that we know where Tav is…so he might be waiting for us to panic before he strikes.”

“My point is,” Shadowheart said. “If we knew a bit more about whatever it is he wants to offer us or what he wants from us, it might be easier to figure out what we can do. So…should we try to contact her again?”

“A wise suggestion,” Gale said. “If nothing else, it could grant us peace of mind that she is still alive.”

“Good,” Astarion said and clapped his hands together. “I will leave you two to do your spell stuff then. You know where to find me. Can I go now?”

Gale nodded and conjured a piece of parchment and a quill.

Shadowheart watched as Astarion left and then turned her attention to Gale.

“You are aware that this isn’t your fault, right?” she asked him, but she got no response from him as he was writing. “Right, Gale?”

Gale sighed and stopped writing for a moment.

“That does not make me feel less responsible,” he said. “She is very dear to me, and I don’t think I could forgive myself if I let something happened to her.”

“We will get her back somehow,” Shadowheart said. “I’m sure she’s fine. This is Tav we’re talking about. She is great at adapting to weird situations, and she would tell you not to worry so much if she was here, I’m sure of it.”

Gale smiled slightly and nodded. He returned his focus to writing the message for her.

Raphael was being odd. They had sex that evening while he was still in his human form. Again, a weird feeling for her because it felt so normal. It did not help that he was being a lot gentler with her than he had last time. He still teased her and kept her on edge, but there was no pain involved this time.

The kisses were something completely new as well. It was never on the mouth, though he planted kisses everywhere else. It felt so much more intimate than what she would ever have considered him to be capable of and it drove her insane.

He’s a devil, he’s a devil, he’s a devil. Those words became Tav’s mantra inside her head each time those little kisses and his weird gentleness made her heart flutter ever so slightly.

She slept till late noon. When she opened her eyes, Raphael was off to work as usual and she was met with Cassius’s intense gaze. She groaned and rolled over to her other side. She felt that something had been stuck under her pillow. She rubbed her eyes and sat up on the edge of the bed. She lifted the pillow and saw a book.

She read the cover: ’A Star in the Darkness’ by Bibella Aldath. Her all-time favorite book about the tragic and forbidden love between a drow and a moon elf. From the looks of it, it was an early edition too which was exceedingly hard to find considering how old the story was.

She could not help the faint smile that washed over her face and the way her heart fluttered again. She quickly tried to push that feeling away and returned to her mantra: he’s a devil, he’s a devil, he’s a devil…

That is when she heard Gale’s voice transmitted to her mind through a sending spell:

“Hope you are still alive and well. What is it that Raphael wants from us and what should we expect if he contacts us?”

Tav’s brow furrowed at the message, and she was glad that her back was turned to Cassius so he could not see the expression on her face at the message. Raphael hadn’t even talked to them yet?

She needed to get a message back to them somehow. What they were asking were fair questions, but it also sounded an awful lot like her companions might be planning to do something stupid and she needed to stop them.

#raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #bg3

58 notes · View notes

wambsgansshoelaces · 8 months

Note

i loveee you work! i was wondering if you’d be willing to write a roman x reader fic that’s kinda anyone but you vibes where she’s in shiv’s wedding party and her and roman hate each but have to pretend to get along for the weekend. this is so random but i’ve been stuck on this idea lately.

also for music recs i’d totally recommend eliza mclamb, i love her stuff and she has a new album coming out this friday.

xoxo!

Baby’s Breath

Roman Roy x Reader

oneshot

ahh I’m so so sorry this is extremely late!! I promise I’ll do better anons waiting. I hope you like it, though!! I honestly do not have the patience to slowburn but I hope I still wrote what you wanted. thank you so much for requesting, I love you anon <33

I’m also really sorry i haven’t been posting fics recently!! I’m getting to it all haah. I really hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think xxx

also, I listen to eliza mclamb now…

Word Count: 2.557k

“Roman and Y/N, you’re walking together.”

Immediately, the two of you exchange a strained look. You and Shiv are long time friends, having met in elementary school and been attached at the hip ever since. At some point in your life, you were spending more time at the Roy household with Shiv and her siblings then you were with your actual family. You and Kendall got along just fine- he was too quiet for your liking, anyway, and would just listen when you spoke. He’d give you advice in that soft way of his, and to this day you don’t think you’ve ever heard him raise his voice.

Roman, on the other hand?

Every conversation you’ve ever had with him had ended in some sort of argument. It’s not that you necessarily had opposing viewpoints, but rather you both wanted to be heard, almost always at the same time. The two of you have been clashing since the first time you’d gone over to their house, when you’d bickered over who got the pink Wii remote.

You weren’t going to argue over this, though. It was Shiv’s big day, and you were going to make sure it goes exactly how she wants it to. You weren’t going to be the reason she gets stressed out on her wedding day.

She continues on, giving the rundown on the rehearsal dinner. Everyone’s expected to be there at five p.m. sharp, in their places at five thirty.

She and her fiance decided that their wedding was going to be abroad, and your flight out to Athens is tonight. Shiv had gotten the entire bridal and groom’s party together just to go over everything beforehand.

She’d finished speaking a while ago, and you’re now sat scrolling through your notes app making sure you have everything at home ready to take with you to Greece. You were helping Shiv move a few of her things, like a few suitcases of clothing for her honeymoon, and were also bringing a gift for the couple.

You’re absorbed in your mental check listing, but you still feel the couch under you bow a little with the weight of someone sitting down next to you.

“We can get along for the next two weeks, can’t we?”

“I’d hope so, Roman.”

“As long as you don’t instigate anything,” he amends, looking up to meet your gaze.

“If I don’t instigate anything?”

“There you go, instigating.” You suppress a sigh, pressing your lips together, causing him to crack a smile. “So much better.”

“I’m only doing this for Shiv,” you remind him. “As soon as this is all over, I’m going back to praying you get clotheslined.”

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to do the matchy thing.”

“Don’t we have to?”

“I mean, yeah, but I was thinking I get you a corsage, you know? And I put matching flowers in my breast pocket. Maid of honor and best man and everything. So that we look good in photos.” His face pinkens as he speaks, and he’s suddenly unable to look you in the eye.

“I think that’d be cute,” you say honestly. The bridesmaid dresses were a muted lavender, the groomsmen’s suits a deep black. You knew they all had pocket squares to match, but Roman’s suggestion is strangely thoughtful. You like it.

“Okay. Great. I’ll text you,” he manages, pausing a bit to look over at you before getting up and leaving.

And he does.

You’re swaddled in bed, invigorating face mask on before you have to fly nine hours. He’s sent you a screenshot of a Google search on his phone.

help, he sends after it.

The search is just ‘pretty purple flower’.

look into baby’s breath, you send back.

what the fuck

is that a fucking flower

yes

what a godawful name

There’s a short pause as he presumably searches it up. He sends you another screenshot, this time of rows of photos of the flower.

yeah, those

can i find them here?

You don’t know why he’s asking you, but you respond.

probably

you’re already in athens?

but what if i can’t?

yeah, flew out after shiv’s town hall

then order fake ones online

god, you’re not very helpful

You think he’s done texting, but he sends you another five minutes later.

fuck you

You have to get to the airport bright and early the next morning. You can barely blink the sleep away from your eyes as you shuffle to your terminal, having checked your obscene amount of luggage with the help of a scary looking driver the Roys employ.

You’re bored out of your mind as you wait impatiently in line to board the plane. Shiv had gotten you a first-class ticket, so you at least had that to look forward to.

You’re delighted when you get on the plane and find a massive, plush seat waiting for you. You stick your carry-on into the overhead compartment and relax.

You sleep through the entire flight. Your seat converted into a bed, and you were provided with the softest pillow and blanket you’ve ever touched. You fell asleep the minute your eyes shut.

You don’t realize something’s wrong until you’re inside the airport.

Since you’d spent almost your whole life in close orbit of the Roys, you weren’t unfamiliar with the press. They knew who you were, you knew who they were. They endlessly pissed Shiv off. She’d done her best to keep her spouse-to-be out of the spotlight, to give them both as normal of a life as possible. The press was overly invasive, and when it came to her family in specific, destructive.

Which is why you suppose the press is targeting you.

A few flashes go off, and immediately, reporters are in your face. You don’t know how they were let in to the terminals, how they were allowed to get so close. You feel the heat creep up your neck. You don’t like the attention- especially not this kind.

You try to push through, but you can’t. They’re incessant, and all you have in your hands is your sweater and your suitcase. You have your headphones on, and you do your best to keep your eyes averted. Despite the fact that you can’t hear anything, you just know they’re demanding comments on Shiv’s marriage and her relationships.

Before you give up entirely, the crowd is shouldered apart by a built man you recognize as employed by the Roys. He’s immediately at your side, arm closing around your shoulder, and helping you bulldoze through the crowd.

You’re frazzled, trying to stamp down the anxiety swirling in your chest. You make a mental note to thank Shiv for thinking ahead. You’re guided out into a private parking garage and pointed to a car. You’re then told that all of the luggage you’d brought would be retrieved, as it was all tagged, and you’d be off the moment you could.

You climb into the backseat of the car, just to find Roman waiting for you.

He’s worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth, but he visibly relaxes once you slide into the seat next to him. Neither of you say anything until he glances sideways at you.

“I saw your face on an article online an hour ago. Someone posted your flight details. I was worried,” he offers lamely.

You blanch. “How do they even get that information?” you ask, voice cracking.

“I, uh, don’t know, but I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you got hurt.”

Neither of you say anything the entire way to the hotel.

It all feels wrong. The caring, the thoughtfulness. It feels like it shouldn’t be happening. But you like it. You like this side of him. It makes you happy.

All of your bickering had always been pointless, anyway. It’s not like you have some real vendetta against him. You hope he looks at you the same way.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, breaking the silence. “Thank you for thinking about me.” Shiv hadn’t. ๋࣭ ⭑

The day of the wedding, you’re rushing around, getting things done for Shiv. You’re running here and there, making sure the vendors know what they’re doing, making sure not a single hair is out of place. The entire day needs to be perfect. She deserves as much.

Your dress is on, your makeup is done, your hair is up. You’re all ready, and now you just need to make sure everyone else is, too. You aren’t about to let anything go wrong.

The makeup artist starts on Shiv, and you run over to the groom’s suite to check on them. You knock softly, and Roman slips out to meet you. He’s just in a plain cotton shirt and sweats.

“Are you not getting ready? Pictures are in an hour,” you tell him.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be fine. They’re all pre-gaming.” They all were. You can tell Roman is not.

“Can we take this seriously? We can’t have anybody be late. If we have to wait for anybody, then the entire schedule gets fucked up.”

“Fuckin’… calm down. We’ll be fine. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Miffed, but not in the mood to argue any further, you give him a look. “If you’re not all ready within the hour, I’ll kill all the groomsmen and then myself. Fucking hurry, Roman.”

You turn to leave, but he catches your elbow. “What asshole did up your dress?” he asks, annoyance seeping into his voice. He tugs you back to him, and you feel his hands smooth over your back, hunting for the string edges that controlled your corset. “Tell me if I go too tight.”

He pulls, slowly and softly, as to not disturb you. He stops when your dress sits snugly on your body, as it’s supposed to, and ties it tightly. He takes a half-step back, admiring his handiwork, hands ghosting over the curves of your hips.

“That feels a lot better,” you tell him.

His eyes flit up and down your body. “Looks a lot better, too. Whoever did that is trying to see you fail.” He trails off, but it looks like he wants to say something else. He’s in a sort of a daze, stare at you. He can’t seem to look away. He snaps out of it soon enough, and you come to realize it’d given you a rush of satisfaction to see him eyeing you like that. You liked it. “Fuck off. I have to get ready.”

So you do.

You make your way down to the ceremony space, inspecting everything. Thankfully, all is well, and nothing is out of place. Everything’s calm, quiet, and nearing perfection.

The time comes for you to help Shiv into her dress, and you’re both emotional, on the brink of tears. You tell her she looks beautiful, because she does, and you help lead her to her first look, where all of the couple’s portraits will be taken before the entire group gets together.

After you step out of the room, leaving them to it, Roman’s making his way up the hallway, this time dressed in a crisp black tuxedo, lavender pocket square tucked neatly.

“Hey, I’m glad you’re here. I have something to give to you,” he says, and you notice the small box gripped in his hand. You have to admit, he looks good in black tie dress. You could get used to the sight of him like this, every bit of clothing tailored exactly to his measurements. Not that you exactly found him unappealing other times, though. Because you certainly found him appealing.

He pops the box open, taking out a delicate corsage made up of purple and white baby’s breath. You have no idea where he got the thing, but it’s gorgeous. You offer your hand when he stretches out his own, and he carefully slips the corsage onto your wrist, adjusting it so that it’s straight. He keeps his eye on it, making sure it’s sitting perfectly on you before pulling away.

“It’s so pretty,” you murmur.

“I’d hoped you’d like it,” he murmurs back. “But, uh, if you don’t mind, I need some help.” He gestures vaguely at his breast pocket, where the pocket square currently sits all by itself. He takes you back to the groomsmen’s suite, beckoning you inside. He goes to root around in his stuff, which is all in a clumped pile in the corner of the massive bedroom. He cautiously takes out a glass tin, a single stem of white baby’s breath identical to the one on your wrist contained inside. “Every time I try putting it in it sticks out weird,” he clarifies, looking up at you, embarrassment tinging his features. “And, uh, you’re the only one who’ll give me the time of day.”

Your heart drops a bit. You feel bad, so you take the tin from him and motion for him to turn and face you. He does.

Roman doesn’t look you in the eyes as your hands smooth out his blazer. Again, these tender moments between the two of you felt like they shouldn’t be happening. It felt so right, though, you felt so at home, letting your hands linger on his chest. You gently tuck the stem of the flower into his breast pocket, letting it peek over and starkly contrast both the color of his suit and the pocket square. You smooth out any wrinkles you can find on his blazer, your hands sliding over the fronts of his shoulders, down his sides, over his stomach.

His face reddens, but he doesn’t stop you.

“You look nice,” you say quietly, straightening out his tie. He catches your hand before it leaves him, keeping it pressed to his chest.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You… you’re handsome.”

“You, uh, you’re always the prettiest out of all of them. All the time. Like, I’ll see other girls, but I… I always know they’ll never hold a torch to you. I always think- I mean, I know I’d just be happier with you.”

Your face heats, and you can’t help the smile that begins to spread over your face. He moves your hand from his chest up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“Since when?” you ask, trying to keep yourself together as he turns your hand over and litters kisses along your palm.

“Since forever. I’ve been crushing on you since you yanked the Wii-mote from me then beat my ass in Super Smash Bros.”

You let out an airy giggle. “I’m sorry our relationship’s never been… amicable ’till now.”

Roman lets go of your hand, instead winding his arms around your hips and pulling you flush against him. “Don’t know what that means,” he says simply, fingers going up to brush gently along your jaw. He’s careful not to mess up your makeup or hair. He just wants to touch you. “Just glad you’re here.” His gaze flickers down to your lips. “Can I…?”

You don’t answer, instead leaning forward to capture his lips in a kiss. He makes a strangled noise at the contact, hand adjusting to instead cup your jaw, anchoring you to him. He immediately deepens the kiss, and you swear you can taste the universe on his tongue.

#roman roy #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #succession #succession hbo #succession fic #succession x reader #wambsgansshoelaces #anon ask #requests open

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