#was just not enough click to even make a friend
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into you
Summary: After almost giving up the hope to become a big actor you get offered the leading role in a period drama, leaving you to spend three months in Scotland with your male co star Dieter Bravo and maybe falling in love with him.
Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem. reader
Wordcount: 2.247
Rating: T
Warnings: fluff, falling in love, implied smut, kissing, really cheesy movie lines I made up, confessions of feelings, reader is in her late thirties, Dieter playing the piano
A/N: Another one for @undercoverpena April showers challenge! What's better than a Pedro character in period clothing in the rain? Making out with him hehe
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You couldn’t sleep.
The moon was shining hrough the window of your hotel room, an old castle in the middle of nowhere somewhere in Scotland.
You had come here almost three months ago, having gotten the first big job of your career, the lead role in a period drama. The first lead role you ever got. The first big job you ever got.
For years you dreamed of being a big movie star.
Much like every young person who came to LA.
Which had been almost twenty years ago. You had been about to quit trying for that one big role that would finally grant your your big success last year.
By now well in your thirties (the forties getting closer and closer), not having any major success apart from some multi episode secondary character on some netflix shows in the latest years, you gave up hope that you would make it.
Sometimes the residuals you got from playing Chandler Bing’s awkward girlfriend for two episodes almost twenty years ago on friends had been the only way to pay your rent.
You were looking into going back to school when your agent called you, talking you into going to this last audition. It had been as a favour to them that you agreed, the contracts between you and the agency already canceled towards the end of the month.
They had always believed in you and you hated saying no to them because of that reason.
Maybe it was you having nothing to lose that left you going into the audition and blowing them all away. Not that you thought you did until your agent called you not even twenty minutes after you went out of the audition, asking you to come back to read opposite the male lead.
Still you didn’t let yourself getting your hopes up, walking back into the office building, back into the room you had been in before, now with an additional face smiling warmly at you.
You didn’t know that in the next two hours your whole life would change.
Not just because they offered you the job.
No, It was the day you met Dieter Bravo.
Of course you knew who Dieter Bravo was.
You had admired him since he starred in the high school drama series you definitely did not tape every episode from when you were in your teens.
And there had been no posters of him in your room growing up, nope.
But like almost every teen crush, it faded over the years.
You grew up, and he did too. You knew he had won an Oscar some years back, you saw the movie in the cinema back then.
He had made headlines after that, naming him the next big thing.
But lately the only headlines you remembered of him had been of his drug escapades and dating life.
So you had been a little reserved when you first met, hoping he would be professional enough throughout the audition.
Hope you shouldn’t have had, because Dieter had turned out to be professional in every single way.
Now, after spending almost two months with him, playing opposite of him, acting that you were in love with him, you found yourself wishing he would be a little less professional.
Groaning you sat yourself up in your bed, clicking the lamp on the bedside table on, reaching for your phone.
2:43 am.
Taking a deep breath and releasing a long sigh as you exhaled you let your head fall back.
In twenty four hours you would be on a plane back to the states, already on your way to shoot your next movie, your career seemingly finally starting off now that you were starring in a movie with Dieter Bravo.
You should be beyond happy.
Everything you dreamed off finally seemed to come true. You had three jobs lined up that would pay more than you had made in the last ten years combined.
Yet the thought of waking up every morning and not getting to spend the day with Dieter made it all bittersweet.
You had spent a lot of time together since getting to Scotland to shoot this movie. Not only on set, but apart from it too. He had been here before, shooting another movie and invited you out some times, showing you around. You had dinner together almost every night be it in an restaurant he wanted to show you or in the hotel. You got to know the man behind the persona you learned he put on for the public for and over the last weeks you had found yourself falling for him.
Your fingers cam up to brush over your lips, the lips he had kissed.
More than once.
In front of the camera.
But before you went to bed tonight, he walked you to your room and he had kissed you good night. Without cameras rolling. Without people around. Just you and him. His warm hand on your cheek, your back pushed against your hotel room door as he towered over you, his other hand resting on the door behind you.
You were out of breath when he parted from your lips, wishing you a good night, leaving you watching after him with your lips parted, your brain still trying to process that he had just kissed you, as he went down the hallway until he disappeared into his room.
You were too giddy to sleep, getting an old sweatshirt on before you grabbed your hotel key and walked out of your room, hoping he was as sleepless as you were and downstairs where you had found him often during your stay.
You could hear the faint sound of a piano as you entered the lobby, the night manager giving you a small smile as you walked past, following the sound.
In the far back corner of the lobby was a piano where you found Dieter playing a melody you did not recognise.
You had found him here before, in the beginning when you could not sleep because you were too nervous to fuck this big chance you got up.
He told you that his art supplies hadn’t been shipped yet, and that he usually painted when he couldn’t sleep.
And so instead he played.
And you listened, sitting next to him until you both almost fell asleep, before he walked you to your room, only to be up some hours later to shoot a movie where his character denied to be in love with your character, pushing your character away until a big dramatic scene where you would finally admit your feelings to each other.
Sitting down on the seat next to him as he played now, you let your head fall against his shoulder, hearing him inhale as he continued to play.
His lips brushed against your temple and you closed your eyes, just listening to his song.
When he finished you looked up at him, his eyes were already on you, an unreadable expression on his face.
„Couldn’t sleep?“ he asked.
You hummed in agreement.
„Too many thoughts in my head,“ you whispered and he nodded. One of his arms came to wrap around your back, pulling you closer against his side.
„You wanna talk about those thoughts?“ he asked and you chuckled.
„Don’t wanna fuck the big scene up tomorrow, well today,“ you said and he gave you a small smile.
„If someone is gonna fuck up it’s me. You make me keep forgetting my lines,“ he winked and you felt your cheeks growing warm, remembering the many occasions Dieter had seemingly spaced out during some scenes, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t place.
„What do you mean?“ You asked, and he sucked his bottom lip in, before he shrugged and there it was again, that expression in his face, his eyes big as he looked at you.
„I can’t stop looking at you. You’re so talented and beautiful and kind and so damn intelligent. Sexy….,“ he winked „You just blow me away and it’s like my brain stops working when I look at you sometimes. I never really felt like this before…“ he whispered and you blinked at him.
„What I am trying to say is, I like spending time with you. I like talking to you. I like kissing you, touching you,“ he grinned and you huffed.
„Especially when it’s just the two of us. Last week when the director called cut when we were in bed….“ He closed his eyes, shaking his head.
You had rushed off after finishing the scene with him, having to take care of the ache between your legs in the bathroom after spending almost six hours in bed with him, shooting numerous sex scenes.
„I wish we had been alone,“ he whispered his face getting closer to yours, his lips brushing over yours.
„Dieter,“ you whispered, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his lips pressing against yours and you shivered.
„Yeah?“ He asked.
„We are alone now,“ you whispered and he nodded, before he kissed you again, deeply.
„Would you like to have sex with me?“ He whispered and your lips twitched into a grin which he mirrored before he kissed you again.
„Take me to your room, Dieter,“ you said, giggling when you found yourself pulled in the direction of the elevators in the next moment.
„This is madness,“ you shook your head, the rain coming down on you without mercy, drenching your many layers of clothes.
„Why? Why is it madness that I have fallen for you?“ Dieter asked, in character, his white shirt clinging to his chest.
You huffed a laugh, your character in denial about the feelings not only she had, but he had too.
„Because we are both engaged. And not to each other. We have to end this. I have to….“ You shook your head, closing your eyes, before you looked up at him. Dieter having closed the distance between the two of you, but not close enough to touch. The raindrops where running down his nose, his hair clinging to his face.
He looked like a wet dream straight out of a Jane Austen novel.
„All these times we spend in each others arms, they don’t mean anything to you?“ He asked.
„It was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened,“ you said, Dieter’s character seeing right through your lie.
„Do you love me?“ He asked and you did not have to play the small smile that sneaked to your lips for only a moment before you fought it down.
„It doesn’t matter,“ you said, turning away from him, but his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you before you could go.
„It matters to me. ,“ he whispered, broken, and the tone of his voice made you want to cry.
The rain continued to fall as you gave the camera time to capture both of your faces.
„Of course I love you,“ you finally said, looking at him over your shoulder.
„Then stay,“ he pleaded. You began to shake your head, when he pulled you against his chest, one of his hands on your cheek, brushing your hair that stuck to your face to the side, his eyes gazing deeply into yours.
„Stay and allow yourself to be happy,“ he said, almost begging.
„Stay here and let me love you,“ he let his forehead fall against yours and your eyes dropped close, pictures of the night he had spend with you filling your mind, the way his forehead had rested against yours as he filled you over and over and…
You opened your eyes and Dieter’s lip twitched for a second, having caught your unintended pause.
„What about our families?“ you asked, „What about my sister? She’s in your house getting ready to marry you today,“ you asked.
„They will understand. They have to. And if they don’t, I’ll take you away where we can live our life without the judgement of others. You’ll never have to worry for money.I love you, please be with me,“ his nose brushed against yours.
You felt his other hand on your lower back and you gasped.
„Then take me away,“ you whispered, feeling his smile against your lips as he finally kissed you, your arms wrapping around his broad back, fingertips brushing over his drenched clothes as he deepened the kiss.
The first thing you realised when Dieter parted from your lips was that the rain had stopped and that it was quiet around you. Too quiet.
Looking at Dieter he gave you a sheepish smile before you looked around, finding the crew around you looking at the both of you, Dieter’s PA holding two robes in his arms, giving you a wide smile.
„You gonna listen when I call cut now?“ The director teased with a wide grin and you let your head fall against Dieter’s chest, mortified, but he just chuckled, before he helped you get into the robe his PA had brought over.
„We’ll meet in an hour for the wedding scene, do not be late,“ the director reminded everyone, giving you and Dieter a longer look, and you nodded. Dieter grabbed your hand, and you looked at him.
„Can’t wait to marry you,“ he winked and kissed you again, before you both were rushed off from the set to get ready.
And you did actually get married.
Seven months later.
On a beach.
In the rain.
Without any interruptions.
#undercoveraprilshowerschallenge#my fic#Dieter Bravo#Dieter Bravo x fem. reader#Pedro Pascal#fanfiction#fanfic#fan fiction#pedro pascal characters#dieter bravo fanfic
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Consorts [Part 1]
The Ghoul|Cooper Howard x F!Bounty Hunter!Reader
Summary: Months back, the Reader and Cooper got in a huge mess after deciding to work together after finding out they were given the same bounty. Neither has seen each other since. Reader has been laying low in a far off settlement, working a common bar job just to make a living...
a/n: very excited to attempt another multi-part story for the first time in years!! for the record, I have only watched the show through once and I have never played one of the games sooooo sorry for any inaccuracies
~~~
You sat another glass in front of one of your bar dwellers.
It had been months since you even dared go outside this town. You hid your face anytime you were outside the walls of your dwelling. You were forced to lay low after your last bounty went south. Not only had you lost all credibility as a bounty hunter, but a giant target had been attached to your back by the group who you had wronged. There was no where safe for you.
Although your face had to be mostly covered, your job required a certain level of attracting customers. You would make sure to wear something rather revealing of your chest, along with skin tight pants. Making sure you flirted strongly with your eyes to attract more people to the bar.
A group of men who had been sat at a table for sometime all approached the bar at once. You could hear them mumbling something back and forth as glances were shot your way.
"Great," you thought, "Some moron got bet by his friend to hit on me." You rolled your eyes as you cleaned one of the glasses.
"Sweetheart," followed by a whistle.
Your skin crawled. Smug faces met yours when you turned around.
"What's a lady like you doing working in a place like this?" He cocks an eyebrow at you. You huff in response.
"Don't misunderstand now..." a click and suddenly all the men were pointing guns at you, "I want to know why you thought someone worth so much would be hiding in plain sight. We all swore you were smarter than that." You stared down the barrel of his gun.
You sucked your teeth, dropping your head to the side slightly, "Y'all're here for the money? I thought you were going to compliment a lady." Your gun is fired quicker than any of them can register. The man in front of you falls backwards, the others squatting down in fear. You take your opportunity and run out the back exit.
Your mind is playing every possibility of this ending. Gunfire dancing on the ground around you as the men chase you. You end up in the middle of town, firing your gun at them as they are hot on your tail. In a flash, the amount of people after you practically doubles. Your eyes widen as you attempt to find somewhere to hide. You grab a grenade off your belt, throwing it center at them.
While smoke surrounded them, you slid under and behind a large lean-to. You were on all fours, looking through the small crack in the wood. The men were scrambling, firing their guns in any and all directions. A fight was breaking out.
"FIND HER YOU IDIOTS!" One of the men shouted.
You heard more gunfire joining theirs. You knew it had to be some local fighting back. You scanned the area around you, seeing a small pathway that led to a more exposed part of the fort you had hidden in. You crawled, hoping it would lead you out.
"My, my," a familiar voice spoke above you. You looked up to see him staring down at you, his head cocked to the side. "Oh, sweet Jesus," one of your hands rubs down your face. "Longtime no see, doll," he grinned.
The infamous Ghoul. Few knew his name, fewer lived long enough to share it. The two of you had become more than acquainted in a prior mission gone wrong. The one that had left you both on the run.
He reached a hand out to you, pulling you up to your feet. "Didn't expect to see you here," he grumbled. You rolled your eyes, placing your back against his preparing to fireback together. You felt him turn his head slightly, "Y'know, I didn't take you for a brothel girl." Smugness was written on his tone. Your cheeks flooded with a slight embarrassment. He shifted positioning his lips directly next to your ear, "Took you for more of a cowgirl after last time." Heat radiated your body with his obvious innuendo. "People have to do things when they're on the run," you breathe out. He scoffed in your ear.
The Ghoul aimed his gun out, shooting and hitting one of the goons. "I'll get us out of this, but you've got to make a deal with me," he looked down at you. You crossed your arms, "What could you possibly want from me?"
"We're going to finish the mess you got me in," he pointed at you. "That I got you in? That isn't at all-" "I don't have time for this. You either take the deal or I leave you here."
You blew your breath out, "Deal." You gritted your teeth. His lip curved into a smirk, "That's a good girl. Now you stay here and on my signal come out." You nodded.
The Ghoul stepped out from behind the wooden building, whistling to get all the gunmen's attention. You watched as they all directed their attention towards him. Guns all pointed at him before realizing who stood before them.
"There's the other one!"
"That's the Ghoul they're promising a reward for too!"
"We could get double the money!"
The brim of his hat hid his eyes from them.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be, ghoul. If you just give us the girl we can be on with our way," one of them shouted.
"So you can come back and get me later? Not gonna happen," he pointed his gun at them, "I'm leaving here with the girl."
The man chuckled, "You're out numbered here."
The Ghoul shrugged his shoulders. He fires his gun at the giant water barrel suspended above the town. It tips over, soaking all the men in radioactive water. The Ghoul swiftly runs back to you, grabbing your hand and running off with you. You were quick on your feet following behind him.
You both run as fast as you can until the town is no longer in the distance. You slow down, attempting to catch your breath. Loud and obvious huffs leaving you.
"C'mon, Y/N. We've gotta keep going before they get smart." He gestured at you to follow him.
~~~
END//Part 1
[Thank you for reading! If you are interested in being tagging in any of my writings don’t be afraid to message me! All tag lists are open! I have a master taglist and one for each character!]
Tags:
@mortuus-poet | @giggle-shade |
#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard#fallout#fallout series#walton goggins#writing#fanfic#sexymonsterfics#part 1#walton goggins x reader#the ghoul#the ghoul fallout#the ghoul x reader
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So this just popped in my head and I thought it was kinda funny.
MC having a lot of handmade stuffed animals, bats lions dogs cats and even a dragon, they made themselves. Sadly as of late they've noticed some of their animals go missing for a while before returning and smelling like Lila. MC looks into it and learns since they showed Lilia their animals Lilia took a liking to them and steals them until mc smell is no longer on the stuffed animal.
The bats and the dragon get stolen the most ☺️
Hello Raven 💚🌺🌷
This is adorable! Plushies are cute and provide comfort. How can anyone not steal them??
I honestly expect the others to steal them too or Grim to be selling them as a side hustle 😂
Lilia sees these plushies, especially the bat and dragon ones. They are adorable and cute just like him. So how can he not take them?
There’s also this inner part of him. Something that just…clicks in him. This inner that wants and needs.
This hint of possessiveness.
I like my faes possessive and protective 🥰
Especially since it’s you, the one he adores.
The bat plushies give him this sense of pride. To own a symbol of him? To make one? He can’t help but feel delighted.
The dragon plushie reminds him of Malleus, especially if similar colors were used as when he was a baby. It brings back memories. A sense of warmth. It calls for him to snatch it away.
Then you add in the fact your scent is on it? Even better. He and you both have busy lives. You can’t be with him always. Yet. Plus, he has to look after the boys too along with his other responsibilities.
And you are busy handing your bundle of chaos and friends, so stealing these plushies will just have to do for days when you aren’t around.
When the smell wears off? He’s going to switch them around. Just so your smell is always fresh.
At least it’s your plushies for now, don’t be surprised if he steals your pillow or your scarves. In fact, are you sure you don’t want to move in? His bed is big enough for the both of you. ☺️💚
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Head over heels - Lee Know
Warning: Mentions of drinking, Minho is a bit tipsy but he's sober by the end of it. Rader is getting hit on by some weird dude. Slightly suggestive at the end. Minho is staring at the reader's chest. GN reader. Not proofread. Please tell me if I missed anything
Masterlist
A/N- I'm finally back!! Thankfully I got over the virus and more than dedicated to write as much as I can. I have many ideas and can't wait to write all of them. Thank you for all the love and support you've given me it truly means the world to me. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. If you have any requests too feel free to do so. Take care of yourselves, love you all❤️
When is the right time to say that you're head over heels in love with someone? Perhaps when they do something really romantic and/or selfless. Something probably really kind and generous, something really cool... Probably not when they are dazed from having a bit too much to drink and look like they are about to fall asleep any given second now, right? Yup, you were definitely weird, probably the main reason you and Minho clicked this well. Okay in your defense you knew you were smitten with him for a while, it just downed on you though how down bad you actually were.
Really though. To think that you would realize that you're in love with your best friend when his like anywhere but this world is beyond crazy, even for you.
"Pretty boy do you want me to bring you some water?" You asked after seeing him blink slowly yet another time. You were at this club Hyunjin had invited you at. The music was blasting on the full volume and everyone was having the time of their life, well maybe except you and Minho. Normally you would be also be having fun with your friends but now everything felt a bit dull. Maybe because you didn't drink anything. You had bad flu earlier and you just didn't feel like drinking today. As for Minho, normally the drinks didn't get to him that easily, but he wad been overworking himself a lot lately and due to the fatigue even such small amount of alcohol as two or three shots got to him pretty easily.
Looked at you with dazed eyes for a second or two, as if trying to gather his thoughts. Something glimmered in his already sparkly eyes and he gave you a small smile. God, he looked so squishy and cute like this you wanted to pinch his cheeks. Not that you would, he had this tough persona to keep. Also not to sound weird but you didn't want others to notice how cute he was. Let's just say you wanted to gatekeep him for yourself.
After Minho gave you a small nod you got up and headed to the bar. There were a lot of people in line so you would probably have to wait quite a while to get something as simple as glass of water. You texted Minho that this could take a minute or two and started waiting for your turn. Meanwhile from the corner of your eye you saw someone shamelessly check you out, like, could they be any more obvious about it? You prayed that he wouldn't approach you while you also crossed your fingers for the bartender to hurry up. You decided to ignore it. You didn't see anything.
Unfortunately your prayers hadn't been answered, the sleazy man decided to approach you, honestly the audacity some people had. You tried to keep your distance but it was all in vain. The man stood in front of you now. He even made a show of slowly checking you out. God what a pig. You really tried your best to compose yourself, you really didn't need to make a scene now.
"Hello. Gorgeous can I buy you a drink?" God even his voice was so annoying. You reminded yourself that you needed to keep calm. With the most polite voice you could muster you answered that you were good and that you were with someone. But the dude still kept pestering, making your blood boil even more. Who the hell did he think he was? You had enough of this, you were about to warn him that you would call the security on him, when hands wrapped around you. You stiffened for a second, but relaxed when you noticed that it was Minho. The strange man grumbled. "Shit, boyfriend of yours?"
Minho answered before you could, his hands tight around your waist, his glare cold as ice. "Yes, now fuck off." The man was about to argue but Minho's death glare shut him up quickly. The man slithered away to disturb someone else you guessed.
You turned your full attention to Minho, who kept hugging you and now had rested his head on your shoulder. He still felt sleepy you guessed. "You took too long." He grumbled after a few seconds of silence. You turned your head and kissed the top oh his head. Minho grunted again. "Sorry pretty boy. Let's get you that water." You took a step towards the bar but Minho stopped you.
"Don't want it anymore."
You fully turned to Minho and started closely examining him, his face was unreadable though.
"Hey, how are you?"
"Just tired. Can I stay at yours?" You thought for a minute jokingly which Minho didn't really appreciate which he showed by softly pinching your side. Really, what was up with him being all cute today? You couldn't help yourself and you gave him a little peck on his cheek.
"Sure." Minho didn't say something, and you couldn't read anything on his face. He held his hand towards you and after you held it he started leading you to others so that you could say your goodbyes.
The walk to your house wasn't long. You appreciated the comfortable silence between you two. It was peaceful. You also loved how extra protective Minho was over you, he didn't let go of your hand whole way. Your heart felt like it would burst from joy.
You sighed in relief once you walked into the safehold of your house. It felt so good to be home. Like the two youthful people you were you immediately started getting ready for bed. You of course on top that pestered Minho to drink plenty of water before going to sleep. You didn't want him to wake up with a hangover. Surprisingly he was being obedient. You also couldn't help but admit that sleepy Minho was absolutely adorable. To you he just looked so soft and squishy all you wanted to do was to cover his whole face with kisses.
You tried to get ready for bed as fast as possible, but the chains you had worn today didn't really let you. They managed to get stuck and you didn't really feel like going to sleep in them. So you turned to Minho who laid across on your bed. Diagonally like a sweet person he was. He had changed into the sweats and oversized shirt he had left at your house but as it seemed he got lazy to get under the covers. "Min can you help me with these?" You asked sweetly as possible. Minho didn't answer and you thought that he fell asleep again laying diagonally on your bed, but he got up after a couple of seconds. He looked at you with unimpressed eyes waiting for you to ask what you wanted. You motioned towards your bundled up chains. Minho grumbled again but immediately started working on it.
The chains were more tangled up than you could imagine. Minho kept grumbling about how he should just snap them but still kept deligently working through every knot. You had no idea how did they get so tangled up on your neck. You got curious on what was taking so long and looked down and only when did you notice that upper buttons were open and you were showing quite a decent amount of cleavage. You felt shy for a second but then as if on cue you noticed how Minho's eyes kept shifting down towards your exposed skin. Let's just say it was a nice ego boost. Subtly as possible you even straightened up a little so you could show off your assets better. You didn't know if Minho knew you did that on purpose but his eyes sure did appreciate the sight. You didn't even realize you were staring at him, before he looked up and your eyes met. Suddenly you felt lost at words. How was he so gorgeous? You could only gulp and just stare at him.
"I did it." He spoke calmly as he placed your chain on your hands. "I think I know how you should thank me." Was it you or was he really close? You could even feel his breath on your skin. Your eyes couldn't help but shift fom his eyes down to his pretty lips. What were you even doing? Minho noticed your wandering eyes, his gaze also shifted down to your lips.
His finger touched under your chin and slowly lifted your face so that you were eye to eye again.
"What do you have in mind?" You found your voice after a few long seconds of being rendered speechless.
"I want to kiss you so bad." Minho's confession sent shivers down your spine. Good thing that you were sitting on your bed, you felt like you would fall otherwise. You felt like fanning yourself, your whole body felt so hot.
"What's stopping you then?" You quipped back, he was so close now with each breath your lips slightly grazed each other.
"Nothing." His voice was raw with emotion. You didn't even get to say anything, his lips were on you in matter of milliseconds. The kiss was raw, passionate. It ignited you, you felt alive now that you had the taste of his lips. It was everything and so much more, it was like he tried to convey his feelings with this kiss.
Guess you were not the only one head over heels for the other.
#stray kids#stray kids x reader#skz#skz x reader#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#skz fluff#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios#lee know#lee know fanfic#lee know fic#lee know fluff#lee know imagines#lee know scenarios#lee know skz#lee know stray kids#lee know x reader#lee know x y/n#lee know x you#leeknow#lee know x gn reader
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the thing with Solas is that he's proud, and wise, and clever, and cunning, and regretful, and guilty, and honest when it'd be so much easier to lie, but while canon tells (and shows) us all of that, it doesn't tell us that the other deep-seated emotion that drives him is shame.
shame about what he did, shame about what he's going to do; shame about what he was, shame about what he is; shame about killing his friend; shame about viewing the people of the current Age as shadows; shame about not knowing better; shame about not wanting to know better; shame about a befriended/romanced Inquisitor, shame about the friends he made; shame about hiding in plain sight, shame about not telling the truth; shame about making the same mistake twice, knowing how it'll turn out; shame about his outbursts, shame about not being good enough; shame about feeling attached to the current Thedas, shame about not feeling attached enough to stop; shame about not having anything to be proud of anymore.
I was recently struggling with a scene that didn't go the way I thought it would, until I realized that neither pride nor guilt nor regret nor wariness was the the real motivation; they were just the result, the display, the cover: the real motivation was the shame.
and then everything kind of clicked into place, precisely because pride is such a focal point of Solas' character - if shame is a deep-seated emotion, it contradicts his pride, his wisdom, his intellect; if shame is a deep-seated emotion, it fuels his regret, his guilt, his determination; if shame is a deep-seated emotion, it's the one thing he's actually managed to conceal. (then again, I wonder if he's even aware that what he's feeling is shame.)
and, as I kept thinking about it, it kept making sense: to be ashamed is a grave sentence for someone like Solas, who's entire character revolves around his pride and his wisdom and his regret. he regrets enough of his mistakes to be disappointed, unsatisfied with himself, to be uncomfortable with what he's done; he's wise enough to know that he has no logical reason to feel ashamed for half of these things and yet even more reasons to feel ashamed for the other half; he's proud enough to loathe admitting to this shame. he gets wary if you poke at him, defensive if you manage to get to close to this sore spot, upset if you keep at it. his pride won't allow him to admit to his shame, and his wisdom won't allow him to not admit to it, and his shame won't allow him to speak about it, and that keeps him stuck in this vicious cycle.
#dragon age#dragon age inquisition#dragon age meta#solas#low-effort character analysis pt. 2#lovingly titled the 'pride and shame meta' in my drafts#shame about being a wolf? in the same breath that he is/was proud to be a wolf?#shame about the Veil? in the same breath that he's proud of saving the world? shame about destroying it?#shame about KILLING HIS FRIEND?#shame about being the monster? proud to have threatened the Evanuris?#shame about all his plans going awry? proud to be still trying?#too ashamed to hope; too proud to give up; too wise to try without#no i don't know where i wanted to go with this. i just had this in my head for weeks now.#and now so do you :)
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Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Part 1
Playing around with the idea of The creator of Teyvat, not being the creator of humanity.
| Next Part
~~~
You were never much of a gamer.
Not that you disliked games of course, but it never quite clicked with you the way it did others. You’d try a couple of games on and off, but there would always be a point where it’d become boring.
Not that there was anything bad about the games themselves, you freely complimented the design and effort it goes into making these masterful pieces of art and code.
You just, weren't a gamer.
Until Genshin Impact
You can still remember the day you heard of it.
You were chatting with friends and one of them brought up this new game they saw a promotion for that they were interested in trying.
It was this anime-esque gacha game.
They showed you a couple trailers and promotional materials, and you must admit they were quite appealing.
However you didn’t intend to try it, knowing that you’d eventually drop it and move on.
But your friend still pestered you, claiming that there’s no harm in trying and dropping another game, after all it’s free anyways, so you’re not losing out on anything monetary.
Skeptical, you joined them in trying out the game.
And
Well
Let’s just say your friend got more than a couple of “I told you so’s” that day
It was beautiful.
The art, the music, the characters.
Everything about this game just, clicked.
You understand why people got so obsessed with certain games.
Why they would be willing to pay for things such as this.
Why this is such a large industry.
It’s, well it’s fun.
It was honestly quite frightening how quickly the game pulled you in.
You never understood the term “completionist”, until it started to apply to you.
Every quest, every domain, every achievement
You did it all
Every dialogue, every story, every entry in the archive.
You read it all.
You scoured the forums for bits of lore, and shrieked with your friend every time something new was dropped.
Genshin was all consuming.
It was honestly quite concerning, if it weren’t for the fact it was time gated with its resin cap and limited content, your outside life probably would’ve suffered.
On some level you probably knew that this was not normal. Your friends who were all gamers as well were never as obsessed over a single game as you were over Genshin.
But you reassured yourself, this is the first game that made me feel this way, its natural for me to go a little overboard.
I’m sure it’ll die down as I try out other games.
But you never really did.
No other game, no matter how popular or similar or highly rated.
Other games from Hoyoverse fared slightly better in terms of attention span.
But you always went back to Genshin.
Not that it bothered you.
Genshin was enough, considering you still had real world responsibilities to balance.
And that was that.
Until, well.
Until Fontaine.
You see, you’d always enjoyed the characters of Teyvat.
But you’ve never quite simped after them the way the fanbase did.
You admired their aesthetics and enjoyed their stories. But they never quite drew you in.
Even your main, was quite honestly determined by meta and whatever character you’ve managed to get your hands on.
There was never a “waifu” or “husbando”.
It was always the world and story that drew you in rather than individual characters.
Iudex Neuvillette was an exception.
The exception
He felt right.
You immediately knew you had to pull for him.
So you did.
And playing him was amazing. He was as meta breaking as you’d hoped and, well, you just liked him.
“Your first official Husbando” your friends would tease. You understand why they would go such lengths for a specific character now.
He was special.
He was a Dragon.
He felt, right.
You quite never understood why
Not until you entered the world of Teyvat.
That story,
Well,
That begins from the other side of the screen.
~~~
“I bet we can definitely open up a whole new sector in Fontaine if all goes well don't you think?” Hu Tao chattered as she and Zhongli strolled back to Liyue Harbor.
Zhongli hummed in agreement, only half paying attention to the conversation. He could tell Hu Tao noticed, since she was keeping the topic of conversation to light topics that anyone with half a mind could parse through. Only enough relevance so that he wouldn’t get lost in thought, but not so much that he had to focus on the conversation.
She was considerate like that, he knew since she had let many of his oddities slide, especially when he was still adjusting to mortal life.
Not that he was free from old habits mind you.
Zhongli doubted he would ever truly be able to blend into a crowd of mortal without some level of adept arts concealing his presence, however he was able to blend in enough so that the average nosy person was able to wave off his eccentricities a simply a facet of his personality rather than something deeper.
He cannot forget that it was thanks to people such as Hu Tao who were willing to let him in without many questions that allowed him to get to this point. Something he will be forever grateful for.
Be that as it may, it did not change the fact that some things will forever be kept secret.
His near encounter with the Hydro dragon for one.
Even from the other side of Qiaoying village where he’d made himself scarce, he could feel the amount of blessings placed upon the man.
He truly was favored by the creator.
Not that that was any surprise.
What was surprising was his own blessing.
Though much smaller, he still treasured the gift given to him by the creator of Teyvat.
Teyvat, after all, was a world of Dragons.
It was due to the advent of The Primordial One, did they lose their authority.
Not that many people knew.
Most people didn’t
The true History and creation of Teyvat was kept tightly wrapped, even the most learned scholars of the Akademiya could only infer at what truly happened, as well as the origin of humanity.
The true name of the creator was lost to time, only their title of the creator of Teyvat remaining. The mortals who lived on Teyvat daren’t give them another for fear of evoking their wrath.
They had plenty to be wrathful about.
Zhongli would only imagine his own rage, if anything similar happened to Liyue.
Imagine putting in centuries upon centuries of work only for an outsider to come in, destroy your work and reshape it for their own people. Before proceeding to have the audacity to name him as a contributor to their success and praise alongside such an usurper.
Just imagining it makes him angry.
That is why, the creator’s title is rarely evoked.
Names have power after all.
Names of gods even more so.
To evoke their name, their title, is to ask for attention.
Attention that would be safer left elsewhere.
Not that mortals knew the true reason.
The commonly accepted reasoning was that the creator of Teyvat has long turned their gaze elsewhere, satisfied with the current ruling of Teyvat, having entrusted their powers to Celestia and the Archons.
Zhongli would feel guilt at this blatant lie and rewriting of history if he could.
But he cannot, because to feel guilt would be to regret his actions and to wish something was different.
But he knew that he, along with all of humanity, Liyue Harbor, his Adepti and friends. They would not have existed, they would not have lived, has history played out justly.
The world is not just.
The world simply is.
He feared to an extent that the Hydro dragons would try to force a more cruel version of justice upon Fontaine, condemning them all as usurpers, when they had no idea, or even power over what had happened in the past.
Thankfully it seems that Focalors’s plan to integrate him into humanity worked. Stemming any sort of “justice” he may enact on humanity for the crimes of The Primordial One. In fact, he seems to have great fondness over humanity, absolving them of their sin and saving them from the prophecy that threatened Fontaine for so many centuries.
However, he knew that he was exempt from this mercy. Zhongli knew that when the time came, the Hydro dragon, or well Iudex Neuvillette would spare no effort in holding him accountable for his actions in usurping the original order of Teyvat.
Which is exactly why he avoided the man, dragon? as he did.
“-ello, earth to Zhongli, ”
Zhongli blinked, Hu Tao’s voice dragging him back to their situation at hand.
“Ah, my apologies, I seemed to have been lost in thought”
She clicked her tongue at him, “Aiyyaa, honestly Zhongli, I wonder sometimes if your age is getting to you, I was trying to get your attention for quite a while”
“Is that so,”
Zhongli couldn’t help but smile at her exaggerated groan.
“I was merely thinking about some old history,” he started, preparing himself to finish the history of Qiaoying village that he was telling Hu Tao on their way over.
“Oh no, there’s no need for that,” she waved off, a slight grimace on her face.
He knew how bored she was by the story the way over, so it served as a perfect distraction on the way back to stop her from questioning any further.
“Honestly a girl can only listen so much about the different varieties of teas and their subtle notes and flavoring before she has to burst yo know,” she complained.
“Well, the history of tea has a -”
“Oh look we’re almost there!” She pointed out, most likely in a desperate bid to stop him from droning on.
He was being slightly unfair to her, he knows, but it never ceases to become unassuming when people try to fake interest in a topic, only to regret it when they realize just how much there is to know about it.
Of course it can never compare to when someone has a genuine passion for the topic and wants to engage further, but those mortals are rare.
More often than not, he can use his vast knowledge as a smokescreen too, well, as Paimon would most likely put it. Bore people into leaving him alone.
He waves off Hu Tao as she bounces back home, and allows himself to take a stroll through the streets of Liyue Harbor.
The Lantern Rite was ending, another celebration successfully done under the hard work of the Qixing
He gazed around at all the sights, the lanterns, the food stalls, the beautiful atmosphere of people enjoying the celebration.
No
He could never regret what he did.
Not since it lead to peace and happiness like this.
And
If things are as he suspects.
He may never have too.
He feels it once more.
The glow of the creator's blessing.
He can feel it swirling within him as he steps through Liyue Harbor.
He wonders if they can see it as he does. Sees the beauty and resplendence of humanity.
Look, he wants to scream
They are nothing like The Primordial One
They are good, kind and beautiful.
Humans may not be your creation, they may not have originated from this world but that does not mean they do not deserve to stay.
But he doesn’t
First of all because he feels that screaming these things in the middle of a busy street may attract some weird looks.
But also out of fear, fear that any attempt to disrupt this fragile peace could lead to destruction.
Because it is fragile, it has only been a couple of years since the creator has turned their eyes to Teyvat.
Those who have been blessed have been careful in their own way not to destroy this chance that the creator has given them.
A chance to prove themselves, not only as people deserving of their attention and blessing, but as a people.
To prove themselves just as worthy of the dragons of staying in Teyvat.
Because they all know, in their hearts of hearts, that what the creator has created, they could just as easily destroy.
While some may tease him for his age, there is no denying that with age comes experiences that the younger generation may never know.
He himself, whilst having been born long after the disappearance of the creator, witnessed firsthand how it had affected the world.
How Godly remains tainted the earth for far longer than it used to.
How miasma and abyssal energy started to leak forth.
How Leyline disorders became more and more commonplace.
Teyvat was breaking.
It was falling apart.
But perhaps.
With this new chance, it could be fixed.
He could still remember the day the creator first turned their gaze upon Teyvat.
Or well, more specifically, the first time they turned their gaze on him.
He had heard rumors of an outlander from Mondstatdt making their way to Liyue. Tales of their feats and defeating Dvalin with the wayward Anemo Archon were as prevalent as talks about the upcoming Rite of Descension.
He had taken note of it of course, outlanders were rare after all, but he hadn’t expected this one to be quite, consequential.
Not until he met them.
He felt their approach funnily enough, the unbranded aura they carried within them. While he could’ve written it off as an aspect of their outlander status, internally he knew it not to be true.
He was far too young to have ever met the creator, or even the original dragons.
But he has stumbled upon their remnants.
Pure remnants, unlike the gnosis which have been twisted and altered by the time it had spent in the hands of The Primordial One.
It was, indescribable.
Free, yet grounded.
Unwavering yet fluid.
Swift yet languid.
It
It simply was
It was the essence of Teyvat.
The essence of the land he lived and fought and bled and laughed in.
How could he not worship it.
How could he not fear it.
He had felt Childe walk in with bated breath, distracting himself with his cup of tea to settle his nerves.
What did this mean?
Was this the end of Liyue, of humanity, of Teyvat?
Over the centuries people have accepted the creator’s complacency in the affairs of Teyvat.
What does it now mean that they have focused their gaze once more on this land.
Destruction
Salvation
He daren’t hope or guess.
But
Well,
The Traveler was kind.
They had no ill will towards the people of Teyvat.
While it was clear they had their own mission to stove for, they did not hesitate in helping those they can along the way.
If the creator has blessed one such as them, one so kind to humans, one with no ill will.
Perhaps.
A seed of hope planted itself in him, and refused to budge.
As time went on, the seed grew.
Hope grew.
The tiny seed of hope that he tried so hard to ignore and deny could be ignored no longer when he received a blessing himself.
He could still remember it so clearly.
It was a normal day, nothing out of the ordinary. He went to work, had tea, chatted with passersby.
There were no great feats.
No great revelations, or offerings.
Yet he felt it for the first time.
A blessing.
A pure, gentle, powerful blessing.
He could feel the sentiment behind it, weak as it was.
Relief, excitement, apprehension.
He wanted to cry, to pray. To thank them for giving him a chance, for giving the people of Teyvat a chance.
But fear held him back.
It still does to this day.
That’s the problem with gods, their pleasure and their wrath can often look the same.
Even as he compared notes with Barbatos and the Adepti, confirming that many of them have been given blessings.
While some like Ganyu, rejoiced in this blessing eager for a chance to prove themselves worthy of this world.
People such as him were still fearful.
Fearful of what this meant and what they wanted.
The straw that broke the camel’s back was when he realized that xiangling was also blessed.
Not that the girl knew, after all the creator was very rarely spoken of, only ever mentioned in ancient rites and the most descriptive of history books.
But she had the blessing, a human.
From that point he saw so many others, so many humans, mere mortals given their divine blessing and gaze.
An exorcist, an author, a member of the Qixing.
It spread across Teyvat, whispers as people soon realized that there was a god, an unknown god blessing them.
Granting them abilities beyond their visions, oftentimes enhancing them to levels beyond previously known human limits.
No one dared to say their name, they were insinuations, and speculations, but no one dared disturbed the fragile peace that has settled.
It is an understanding between those who have it.
Those who know, know and those who don’t are kept in the dark.
But it seems that the Creator has turned their gaze to Teyvat and to humans.
~~~~
| Next Part
~~~~
Tell me what you guys think!
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Everyone posts about how Stardew Valley is a cozy LGBT+ inclusive game but NO ONE mentions the lack of a platonic option for the bachelors/bachelorettes. Which would be good for aspec people and also just more pleasant for many casual players I believe but that's not even the point. I just want to become best friends with everyone and not only does that require me dating everyone at once and feeling like a sleazebag because of it (ik the bad cutscene can be avoided but I know in my heart they'd be hurt if they knew) BUT it also means the women flirt with me!!!!! Constantly!!!!!!! It makes me sick to my stomach. Truly ruining the characters I liked
#this post is not that serious or meant to be an Analysis or a Discourse Post or a Hot Take or whatever#i just think the dating thing needs to be handled differently#i should be able to Not Date characters and still get 10 hearts with them#also ive never made it far enough in stardew valley to marry someone and this is the first time i could even date someone#and ive heard that the flirtatious comments dont stop once you're married which is. really awkward for me#i mean i could probably handle the guys flirting with me while im married but id hope being married would be an off switch for it#its just awkward to have ppl im not actually dating and only gave a bouquet to so i can be their friend be called my bf/gf when. they're Not#i seriously need to find some kind of mod to fix this once i finish getting all the girls up to ten hearts#i will deal with the stomach churning grossness of the flirting for a while so i can see everything#but then I'm DONE!!! I'm DONE!!!! I just want my friends back!!!!#maru and abigail and haley !!! my buds!!!#NOT emily shes scary and NOT leah because we just didn't click and DEFINITELY not penny because i fucking hate her#penny sucks. penny dni#but yeah the flirting feels gross because im gay and repulsed by women romantically/sexually#and even though i did open myself up to this by playing the game. because i dont want it it feels like its being forced on me#which makes it feel even WORSE than normal#and its like. not only do i feel like I'm stringing along these characters#but i feel like my friendship with my favourites is ruined :(
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Hiya, could y
You make a bill kaulitz fic, where he loves getting head from you? <not headcanons, please>
i just got the most mind wrenchin idea for this hold on
please forgive me for not posting i had an exam
˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 bill x fem! reader smut
twas a normal hallows eve, full of candy and slutty teenagers dressed in lingerie. you have to attend a party at your friend's house, but your homebody boyfriend opts to relax at home instead.
since you're going to be gone for a long while, why not be nice and give him a little treat before you have to leave?
you walk downstairs to the living room, where he's lazing on the couch and having a horror movie marathon.
you smile and walk over to kiss his forehead, instantly snatching his attention away from the bright tv screen.
"honey, you look gorgeous. you're leaving already?" he asks, sitting upwards properly.
"yeah, you want me to get you anything?" you reply, adjusting the neckline of your raunchy costume.
"um, candy would be nice, meine liebe." he says, watching you.
"sure, I'll see if they have a sorta party bag for you." you smile at him, admiring how he looks at you. gosh, it warms your heart.
you bring out your phone to check the time. okay, there's forty-five minutes left before you have to actually go, so there's enough time for a little gift.
your heels click against the laminated wooden tiles, growing louder as you approach him. he looks up at you confusedly, "schatz?"
"I'll be gone for a long time, do you think you can handle it?" you ask.
"I think so..." he says, looking away from you bashfully.
you smirk and raise an eyebrow at his cute, shy expression. using the hair tie on your wrist, you tie your hair into a lazy ponytail before going on your knees, in between his thighs.
"l-love?" he calls out curiously, "what are you...?"
you press a soft kiss onto the bulge right in front of you. he thought he was being smooth by playing nonchalant, but his hard-on gives it all away.
he tips his head back, letting a soft whimper leave his lips. you unzip his jeans and pull them down to his knees, revealing his calvin klein boxers, a large tent protruding from the middle.
you giggle, licking its clothed tip at first, making him hiss. you hadn't even done anything yet, but his cock was already twitching, aching for a sort of release.
as slowly as possible, you pull his boxers down, freeing his member from its confinement. oozing with pre-cum, veins travelling from the base to his bright red tip, like a trail to a prize.
you wrap your lips around his mushroom tip, kissing it and sucking on it. his hands travel down to your hair, grasping it in hopes of relieving the oncoming pleasure.
you tease his tip by pressing your tongue against it and dragging it up and down his slit, making him whine for mercy. you pull away with a soft 'pop!' and trail your kisses down to his balls.
he sobs, "stop...stop, t'much, can't..."
"you can, honey..." you whisper back, using your tongue to trace the veins on his shaft.
he nods, biting his bottom lip. you grin at his obedience, and kiss your way back up to his tip.
staring at his hard cock, you can't help but feel the familiar knot in your stomach form. it's unbelievable how cute he's being.
you slowly sink your mouth down his dick, trying to take in as much as you can. the rest of the inches that you can't take, you use your hand to substitute your mouth.
you look up at him, trying to see what type of reaction he held and gosh, you could just cum right then and there. his pretty eyes all rolled back, eyeliner running down his cheeks, his cute lips in an 'o' shape and his tongue slightly peeking out.
you bob your head up and down slowly, bringing him back from his trance. he hisses and grips your hair, but quickly loosens it when you slap his thigh to tell him to quit it.
"'m sorry, feels too good...nnh, stop it, bitte, mama..." he pleads, and you oblige. but when you do pull away, he starts to buck his hips into your unmoving hand that are wrapped around his base.
"what's wrong? you told me to stop." you tease him.
he whines, "no, no, no...please continue mama, I don't..."
you giggle, before resuming what you were doing. your wet, warm mouth is no replacement for your pussy, but god, it felt so good.
he sobs as he attempts to thrust his hips into your mouth, but your hand on his thigh makes it hard for him to do so. the wet sounds of your mouth makes him cry from how good it feels...
you remove your hand from the base of his shaft and place it on his other thigh, sinking down onto his dick furthur. your throat convulses around him, and he can feel it. he sucks in his tummy to try and relieve the harsh pleasure coursing through his veins.
he lifts his legs and wraps them around your shoulder, trying to bring you closer while he pants like a dog.
you slap his thighs and shakily, he pulls his legs down. you bring a hand to fondle his balls, and that's when he finally snaps.
with a loud cry, "bitte, mama, bitte!" he finally cums into your mouth, and the salty taste of his release coats your tongue. you pull away from him, a string of his cum mixed with your saliva connecting his tip to your bottom lip.
his cock lays limp on his tummy, occasionally spurting ropes of cum when you trace the veins on his shaft. you take out your phone from your bag and say, "pose for the camera, baby."
he does so like a good boy, doing two peace signs and you snap a quick photo to put as your wallpaper. checking out the time, you find out it's about 12 minutes left and you have to go soon.
you give his tip a quick kiss, and then his lips, "see you soon baby! don't miss me too much. if you're still pent up you can use my vibrator in my vanity. love you!"
"loove you..." he slurs, his vision hazy with overstimulated tears, watching you leave.
#tokio hotel#y2k#bill kaulitz#bill kaulitz x you#bill kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz smut#billy#tokio hotel x you#tokio hotel x reader#tokio hotel smut#tokio hotel fanfic#2000s
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Happy Birthday | Seonghwa
Park Seonghwa - ATEEZ
Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~5.6k
Pairing: Seonghwa x AFAB!Reader
Genre: Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Super Cute, Super Sweet
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, Handjob, Unprotected Sex (Don't!)
Author's Note: This a story requested by/written for my friend @sadfragilegirl! I don't normally write this level of fluffy romance, but I tried really hard! It’s a little early for her actual birthday, but she didn't mind~
I have the setting as Switzerland as if the reader and Seonghwa live in Korea, so sorry if you already live in Switzerland or something…
I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!
"What's this?" You looked from the envelope to him skeptically. He said it was a surprise, but you were expecting him to place a box or even a bag in your hands when you closed your eyes. When the paper hit your palms instead, your eyes flew open, looking at him with question.
"Just open it, love." Seonghwa huffed with amusement, adjusting his position on the couch so he was facing you more. It wasn't like a card, it was a normal white envelope, like from when you would get a bill in the mail. It was only stuck at the middle of the flap, so you easily tore it open. Staring at him to gage his reaction, you reached in, your fingers feeling two slips of paper inside. Pulling them out, you flipped them over, still watching him. Your eyes left his to read the words on the slips and your mouth fell open.
"Your passport is still valid, right?" He smiled wide at your reaction.
"Switzerland?!" You looked rapidly between his gift and his face.
"That's where you talk about all the time…" Seonghwa leaned forward a bit to get a better view of your face. He wanted you to be excited, but was worried you would start crying, but you seemed okay.
"But…why?"
"Your birthday?" He said it like it was obvious. You looked back to the tickets, checking over the date, noticing it would be the day before your birthday, in about two weeks.
"Is this early enough notice for you to get off work?" He was a little worried he should have done it sooner, but he needed to make sure all his paperwork was in order as well. Luckily since it was only going to be about four or so days, you both didn't need a visa.
"Yes, its early enough- Park Seonghwa!" Your demeanor had shifted drastically, and he recoiled a bit.
"Why would you do something so elaborate for my birthday?" Your brow furrowed and he calmed, exhaling in slight exasperation.
"Why wouldn't I? You're going to be a quarter of a century." Your boyfriend smiled playfully, and you sneered back just as playfully. Clicking your tongue, you looked back at the tickets.
"I was able to rent a town house unit instead of a hotel room, it thought it would make it homier…" He pulled out his phone so he could show you the booking. It was more of a bed and breakfast type deal, but it would be just the two of you. You had to rip your gaze away from the plane tickets to look at the listing he showed you. It was perfect, warm, and cozy. There was a small living room and a small kitchen and dining area, with the bedroom and a bathroom upstairs. Small, but still bigger than a hotel room.
"Seonghwa…" You drifted off, and he looked over your face again, and he noticed your eyes had gotten glossy, and you swallowed hard.
"Please don’t cry, love." He huffed, hand going to your cheek so he could brush the stray tear off your cheek with his thumb.
"But it's so freaking sweet." You sniffed and he chuckled, resting his cheek on the crown of your head when you slumped into him, head on his shoulder.
The next two weeks were a blur, your job was willing to let you get off for that short time, you hardly ever took time off, let alone for yourself. Your coworkers were a bit disappointed that you wouldn’t be there so they could use your birthday as an excuse to go out to drink. Seonghwa helped you make sure all of the technical parts were handled, like your paperwork for your passport and other such things. What you hadn't noticed at first was that the tickets were for business class. Not quite top-tier first class, but way better than economy, especially for a nearly twelve hour flight. Your flight was set to take off at about two in the afternoon and so you would arrive in Switzerland for 7 pm their time. You two had even been preparing as much as possible for the jet lag you were going to experience, but it was a bit hard since you both still had to work. The flight was long, but it was quite fun, and it was fancy. You had never flown so far internationally, let alone in such a comfortable way. The meal was ten times better than what plane food you normally got to eat, and it was even better because Seonghwa was with you the whole time. You already thought he was the best boyfriend anyone had ever had, but this really was the icing on the cake…
"Cake, for breakfast?" You grumbled groggily, looking at the dessert he had set on the nightstand. By the time you had gotten all settled into your lodging, it was nearly ten at night, so you had fallen asleep quickly. The clock next to the cake read 11:42, so theoretically, it would be cake for lunch.
"We're not going to eat it now, but I wanted you to blow out the candle first." You still hadn't crawled out far enough from your blanket cocoon to look at him, only seeing his hands stick the blue '25' candle into the top of the dessert. The icing was white and had yellow and purple flowers piped around for decoration. Seonghwa chuckled as he helped you sit up, the plush duvet falling to your lap as you rubbed your eyes. When your eyes focused back, you could read the top of the cake, "Happy Birthday, Love." He smiled, reading the top of the cake for you. He brushed an errant strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, then left a soft kiss on your forehead. Yawning and stretching, you turned in the bed as he lit the candle with a match, then he carefully sat on the bed with you, holding the cake steadily.
"Make a wish." He was so freaking pretty, let alone when he would smile. How'd you get so lucky? You wondered that often. You finally noticed that he had a headband on that had a small fake crown attached to it, a plastic tiara lying next to him on the bed. You smiled, looking to the small flame and closed your eyes, 'let me be able to be with him forever,' then you blew out the candle. You clapped to yourself softly as he put the birthday cake back down, then grabbed the gold piece of plastic, and let it slip onto your head, the little combs on the ends securing it with your hair. When his hands came away, you adjusted it slightly, and before you could thank him, he had something else he was handing you. Not only that, there was two more boxes on the floor along with the gift bag he was handing you.
"What the…Seonghwa!" You scolded half-heartedly. He had already flew you to a whole other country, rented a beautiful place to stay and got you a very yummy looking cake.
"Just open it." He let you take the bag, sitting on the bed before you at a better angle. He was in a white cardigan sweater; the low neck showed his collarbone off as it stretched over his shoulders. He didn't have anything on underneath and the wide swatch of skin that was revealed made you want to lean forward and kiss away the smooth perfection. Forcing your attention back to the gift, you removed the tissue paper and reached in to grab the actual gift. It was a small wooden box, beautifully stained dark with gold painted cherry blossoms dotting the wood. It was already beautiful, but when you lifted the lid at the hinges, a soft melody began to play, one very familiar to you. Seonghwa noticed tears welling in your eyes again, but he just let it be, there was no point trying to get you to stop crying at that point. The little ballerina that had rose off her perch in the music box spun smoothly along with the melody, her little dress was a soft purple, her hair up in a bun, the same color as your own.
"Seonghwa…" You were nearly out of breath, it was gorgeous.
"Where did you find this?" You ran your finger over the deep purple inside, watching her spin in her dance, it was a different exterior, but almost identical otherwise to one you had as a child. The song was even the same, and you had lost the box when you moved in the fifth grade, heartbroken that you would never see it again.
"There's a store I found that had European antiques. I was just looking in the window and I saw this through the window. When I heard the song, I grabbed it, since I knew it was your favorite." He explained, leaning down to grab one of the boxes. You reluctantly closed the music box, setting it gently to the side, letting him place the box on your lap.
"These are more for today…" He grabbed the other box as well as you untied the ribbon and opened the bigger, flat box. Inside was a dress made from a delicate, pale yellow material. It was decorated with purple flowers, resembling the cake sitting on the bedside table. There was also a pair of white sandals, decorated with yellow flowers.
"Oh, it's so pretty!" You smiled at the dress, fingers running over the purple collar of the dress. Yes, it was a present, but it was going to be hard to beat the music box. The next item he handed to you was wrapped. He scolded you for being delicate with the wrapping paper, but none the less let you slowly open it, trying not to tear the white shining paper too bad. Inside was a box of luxury bath supplies. It had a bath bomb, salts, bubble bath and a small pillow to put on the edge of the tub for your head.
"Why don’t you take a bath and then we can get a later lunch?" Seonghwa helped you get the tape off of the plastic box so you could open it. You hummed as the delicate fruity scents hit your nose and you nearly jumped out of bed, eager to get in the tub. He chuckled as you shuffled quickly into the bathroom, and he smiled even wider at your excited gasp.
"You already drew the water!" He heard a small splash, "Its just right!" You peaked your head out of the door and smiled.
"Thank you, Seonghwa!"
"Of course, love." He let you take your bath and got ready for everything else he had planned. You plopped the round ball into the water, watching it fizz and turn the water a warm reddish-pink. You sprinkled some of the salts in as well, letting them dissolve before quickly shedding your sleepwear and sinking in. The tub was nice a big, perfect for relaxing.
"Oh, I almost forgot!" You reached over the edge, grabbing the small pillow and using the suction cups to attach it on the edge. Sighing, you relaxed into the nice hot water, the pleasant aroma and salts soothing you as well. The plane ride, while much better in business class, still had left you a bit sore and the bath was just what you needed. After you were done, you fixed your hair, put on some light makeup, and put on the dress. Looking yourself over in the tall standing mirror near the dresser of the bedroom, you smiled at your reflection. It fit perfectly, of course, and it was incredibly comfortable. Grabbing a small bag to use as a purse, you grabbed the sandals as well and met Seonghwa downstairs in the small living room at the front of your lodging.
"Does it look good?" you asked as you came in, drawing his attention away from his phone to you. He gaped for a second, then smiled warmly, "You look absolutely gorgeous, love." Like he had any room to talk. As you went to leave, he kneeled down in front of you, helping you get the sandals on, then led you out with your hand in his. The weather was perfect, fluffy white clouds floating in the deep blue sky. People milled up and down the cobblestone street and you joined them.
"The restaurant for lunch is just on the next street." He told you, and you made your way down the sidewalk and around the corner to get to a more business-centered street.
It was a lovely little bistro-type establishment and you even got a free dessert because of your birthday. Since you didn't have to drive anywhere, you both enjoyed a glass of champagne and you honestly ate more than you should have.
"Why don’t we walk and look at the shops?" Seonghwa motioned down the street after paying the bill, not letting you even look at the receipt. There were several little businesses, many of them were obviously getting most of their business from tourists. You had to be really careful with what you looked at, or how long, or if you would make a comment on something. Seonghwa tried to buy everything you were even slightly interested in, so you had to hold your tongue a bit. At the end of the street was a small courtyard with a fountain in the center, some street vendors and performers set up for the many passerby. By the time you reached the fountain you had acquired a silver charm bracelet, a pocket mirror with a celestial design on the back, a set of three glass figurines of your favorite animal, and a pair of flats with a pretty floral design. Those were just the nice gifts, you also had several different confections, a bag of marbles made to look like dragon's eggs, a wooden flute, a much nicer though still fake tiara, and earrings made to look like macarons.
"I really don't need all of this, Seonghwa." You huffed, taking a seat at the edge of the fountain. He had been carrying the bags, not even letting you hold the bag of chocolate covered pretzels.
"Yes, you do." Your boyfriend tried to hide his smile, trying to maintain his false seriousness. As you had walked down the road, you had also taken several pictures at several places where that was the intended goal. Many of them were selfies of the two of you, or simply of you standing by various things. There was a giant taxidermy bear, with a huge teddy bear next to it and you even put on a headband with bear ears on it for the picture, but didn't let Seonghwa buy it. A statue of some local historical figure, a model of the largest fish ever caught in the area, and several pictures of you holding miniature instruments were among the photos. Together you would take a picture in front of the shops you bought stuff from, for reference, and at seemingly random times, when he would wrap his arm around your shoulders and make you look at his phone. There were several times when you would be near a group of girls and you could tell they were staring at your boyfriend and whispering, but you didn't know the language they were speaking. Your eyes flitted over to his exposed upper chest. You at first were incredibly pleased with him wearing such a flattering top, but you wondered if maybe you wanted to be the only one able to see him like that. So, you had gotten a matching set of small capes made to look like those worn by monarchs. It covered him enough, but still wouldn't make him too hot in the midday sun.
"Can you keep going or do we need to head back?"
"I'm fine looking at more shops, but I need you to promise and not buy me something unless I explicitly ask you to." You pointed your finger in his face, making sure he was looking at you.
"Okay, I promise." He sounded a bit put off, but he smiled right away, reaching up to adjust your cape. With your tiara, you looked and felt a bit childish, but it was your birthday, dammit! You were going to do what you wished. The day continued in bliss, and most of what Seonghwa bought you after was food, except for a medium-sized stuffed wolf and a nice pair of sunglasses since the clouds had all but left and the bright light was hurting your eyes. As you sat on the grass at the edge of the waterway running through the middle of town, you took the glasses off and set them over the snout of the stuffed wolf. The spot was near the edge of town, and on the other side of the water was a field that, when in season, would be filled with flowers. However, that time of year, there weren’t any in bloom. The sun was creeping closer and closer to the horizon, a beautiful array of colors painting the sky.
"This place is gorgeous." You sighed in bliss, leaning back, propping yourself up with your hands on the ground behind you.
"That's why I picked it." Seonghwa hummed, digging through one of the many bags, looking for something. A few stores back, he had come out with a canvas, zipped bag, and would not for any reason let you look inside. He had added a few things over the following hours, and you were growing incredibly curious. But…you supposed you could be patient. As you watched the sun sink to just peak over the distant horizon, he made a noise of realization and hurriedly began to pack stuff up.
"Seonghwa?"
"Let's head back, I have-" He halted, then shook his head, helping you stand up from the ground, "Let's get back." You were growing even more curious as you walked back to your rented lodging. The restaurant right across the way was finally open, seemingly only for dinner, and it seemed Seonghwa had made a reservation. While the bistro offered food you were at least somewhat familiar with, you had not tried anything even similar to the menu. Your boyfriend told you to ignore the prices and order anything that looked good, so you could try everything. Luckily, you had no idea what the conversion rate of the currency was, so you could reliably ignore the cost.
"Do you mind sitting and waiting for a little bit?" he asked, gathering up the bags after he paid the bill.
"Uh, okay?" Your place was literally right across the street, so you didn't mind.
"I'll message you when you can come!" he called as he left the establishment and you watched him jog across and enter the place.
"Huh…" You knew he was planning another surprise but had no clue what it was. You were able to finish your drink before you got the text, your phone buzzing with his specific notification sound. Since the meal had been paid, you simply got up and left the restaurant, heading across the street and entering the lodging yourself. Only the lamp was on in the living room, but you were able to see there were several items on the coffee table that were not there when you left. This intrigued you, so you headed straight in, not noticing the flower petals littering the floor of the hall leading further in and toward the stairs. Stopping by the table, you saw there was a bouquet of yellow and purple flowers in a vase, two candles on each side, another box wrapped in a ribbon, with an envelope on top. You smiled at the sight, still a little blown away by the effort your boyfriend had put into celebrating your birthday. Leaning down, you grabbed the envelope first, pulling the card out that lay inside.
Please put this on, love, and come up.
He had written in his smooth handwriting, and you carefully set the note down, reaching for the box then. Pulling the ribbon loose, you looked inside and found another item he had bought you to wear. This time it was a soft, lacey babydoll lingerie set in a delicate purple shade. In the corner of the box was a small glass bottle designed to look like a diamond, the scent of the perfume was heavenly. There was a thin satin robe to match, and your face flushed a bit at the sight. You had never been confident enough to buy something like that to wear before. However, seeing what he had bought gave you an extreme confidence boost, and it made you feel beautiful and sexy as you put it on in the restroom on the first floor. After you got the set carefully on, you sprayed the perfume in all the right places. Looking over yourself the best you could in the mirror, you draped the robe on over the lingerie, and prepared to join your boyfriend. You were honestly a bit nervous. It wasn't that you had never had sex with Seonghwa, because you definitely had, but this was different. He had you wrapped up like you were a gift for him; you felt incredibly wanted and special. Even more so than usual. It was as you entered the hallway that you finally saw the purple petals decorating the hardwood floor and led up the stairs. You were careful when going up, not wanting to damage the petals too much, nor slip and ruin the evening. Taking a deep breath to steady your excitement and nerves, you put your hand on the nob, and opened the door. There were candles set up around the room, the low, soft light casting across your boyfriend, who was sitting on the bed, a single flower twirling in his grasp. His face was a bit bashful, probably because he had changed into thin, flowy black pants, and a matching black button up…but it was undone, hanging open, fully revealing the smooth skin his sweater earlier gave a sneak peak of. When his eyes landed on you as well, his nerves faded, seeing you wrapped up in the robe and lingerie he had picked out. Even though it was your birthday, you were a gift to him, the elegant scent of the perfume wafted gently toward him as you moved closer, letting the door fall closed. He stood to meet you, both of your faces slightly flushed. You took the flower from him and he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, then tipped your head up by his hand on your chin so your eyes could meet his.
"You look beautiful, (Y/N)." You hummed when he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth and you had to fiddle yours fingers together to hold back from just running your hands over his bare torso.
"Have you had a good birthday, love?"
"Of course, Seonghwa." You whined a bit at the end, wanting his soft kisses over your cheek to go back to your lips.
"Would you like a bit of dessert?" he asked, leading you toward the bed. You still hadn't eaten the cake he put in the fridge that morning, but that wasn't what he meant. He had a display plate on the bed with several different cuts of fruit and you smiled. You actually preferred fruit or something fruity and sweet for a dessert even over a pastry. You sat delicately on the bed and moved up further at his prompting as he joined you, placing the platter in between you two. As he held up a strawberry to your lips, he mimicked the bite you took, smirking a bit as you chewed. A bit of the sweet juice ran over your bottom lip, so he leaned forward, running his tongue over the trail, then finally captured your lips in a kiss. You whimpered in relief, and eagerly let his tongue then enter your mouth so he could taste the strawberry on your own tongue. After you ate each piece of fruit, he would lick the remains off your mouth and tongue. When he gave you the second cherry, he took one of the stems and challenged to see if you could tie it in a knot together. Well, you couldn't, but maybe because you were both too focused on the kiss than tying the stem. The kiss that followed the gentle flavor of banana was the final step, he set the platter to the side, deepening the kiss further and leading you to remove the soft purple robe you had on over the lingerie. He exhaled in awe, the nearly sheer fabric encompassing your breasts was lined with soft lace, the lower part of the babydoll was truly sheer and laid over your ribs, ending with the same lace as the top. The panties were barely such, but added a sweet and delicate detail. He inhaled deeply as his nose rank over the column of your throat, enjoying the aroma of the perfume. Seonghwa's soft kisses quickly grew harder, his tongue running over your skin. You whimpered when his teeth sank into the crook of your neck slightly. It morphed into a full moan when he sucked hard, and you know it left a mark. He continued this pattern, each new bruise setting your skin ablaze further. After what had to be the tenth or eleventh love bite, he pulled away, sitting back to admire his handiwork. Your face was flushed all the way down to your chest and the tips of your ears, your core already clenching around nothing. Seonghwa brought his fingers to your pussy, rubbing at your folds through your panties, the thin material not able to hide how wet you already were.
"Already so wet, love." He hummed, mouth back near your neck, his voice rumbling in your ear. Trying to ignore his fingers at your core, your hands came up and shakily tugged at his shirt, trying to get it off. He chuckled, helping you with the process, and before he could lean back over you, you sat up yourself. Your boyfriend rose an eyebrow in curiosity, then smirked when your lips met his neck in return. It was your birthday, and if you wanted to mark him back, he was going to let you. You couldn't use the same amount of force he had, and you were nervous to even just nibble his skin. After about three smaller marks, your lips found his again, and he rested back onto the bed, pulling you into his lap. You took your chance and found the waist band of his pants, the thin material not hiding his arousal much. As you pulled his cock out, your small hand wrapped around him, lips going back to his. Since you were distracted by the kiss, his own hand found your core, fingers having sneaked into your panties. You whimpered when he ran two fingers through your dripping folds, trying to maintain focus of your own task. Your other hand joined the first to cover him better, and he buried a long finger inside. He smirked when your walls clenched around the digit, pumping it a bit before easily adding a second. Your whine spurred him on, his own mind a bit foggy with your soft little hands wrapped around him. Seonghwa spread his fingers, pressing against your tight walls, getting you ready for him.
"Hold on, love." He stopped your own pumping fingers, removing his and leading you to lie back down. You nearly yelped in protest when he climbed off the bed, but you watched him remove the rest of his garments, then he lightly grabbed your ankle, and pulled you down to the edge of the bed. He tried not to laugh at your squeak at this, instead falling to his knees on the floor, making his face level with your pussy. Fully removing your panties, you mewled at his warm breath on your core, then gasped when his tongue ran through your folds.
"S-Seonghwa!"
"You're doing so good for me, love." He mumbled, then buried his tongue inside you, thumb going to your clit. Seonghwa could tell by your twitching hips and little whimpers you were already close. His tongue left your core, then ran up to flick at your clit and your orgasm hit you suddenly.
"Ah!" Your little whines rose and fell with the waves of your climax, leaving your quivering at the end.
"Such a good job." Seonghwa kissed your inner thigh, rising back off the floor, easily wrapping his arms around you, and getting you back further up the bed. Lying there, recovering, he unwrapped you like a present, slipping the lingerie fully off, leaving you bare before him. As he adjusted your legs, spreading them and leading you to wrap them around his waist, he kissed you. You whined louder, feeling the head of his cock rubbing through your folds. He could feel the vibrations of your moans as he slowly sank inside, slowly, inch by inch till he was inside to the hilt. Your boyfriend let you get accustomed to the stretch, kissing over your face lightly, telling you how wonderful you were.
"Move, please." Your voice was soft, fingers flying to his hair when he gave a slow shallow thrust. He built his pace steadily, you yelped when he was allowed a new angle after hiking your leg up higher, knee over his elbow.
"So good, love. You're so pretty, and cute…" His words were littered with little pants, your gummy walls hugged his cock so good. When he leaned back over to kiss you again, your leg over his arm shifted as well, allowing his cock to hit a whole new angle.
"S-Seonghwa!" You keened, feeling your next orgasm rising. He left the kiss, barely, lips still slightly touching, and his own thrusts were growing uneven.
"Hold on, love, let's do it together." He coached and you nodded, then he gave two more thrusts, even harder than the previous ones. Your high-pitched, quivering moan harmonized with his low groan, the heat of his release warmed your core and up into your tummy. As you both caught your breath, he wrapped his arms around you, sitting up with you, leaving you in his lap again, half-hard cock still inside. You hadn't noticed that he grabbed something else from the night stand, still in the haze of your release.
"I have one more present, love." He pressed his cheek to your hair when you had slumped forward to rest on his shoulder.
"Hm?" You let him help you sit up better, holding you at the waist so you didn't ragdoll back to the bed.
"I know you've never wanted this to be a big, fancy thing…" He presented the small box to you, and your heart beat increased, so much so he could feel it through his cock still in you.
"Hwa?" you breathed out, hand resting on his shoulder as he used his thumb to flick the box open. Inside was a thin silver ring, a small diamond resting in the middle, two small rubies resting next to the center gem.
"(Y/N), you're the love of my life, and I can't think of ever letting you go. Will you be my wife?" He knew you were already crying, without even having to look at your face. With hitching sobs, you nodded, not able to get words out, resting fully on his shoulder.
"Hm?"
"Yes." you whispered and he kissed the crown of your head, letting you rest on him so he could better use his hands. He slipped the ring on your finger, the size perfect of course, and you looked at it with teary eyes.
"I love you, (Y/N)."
"I love you too, Seonghwa…" You were trying to control your crying, but it was hard. He had done so much for you, giving you the best birthday ever, and now he gave you your final present, which was by far the best one. When you sat up better, admiring the ring, his kiss pulled your attention away, and you clenched around his cock, hard again. He rolled forward again, your back hitting the bed, and he smiled when your now-ringed hand cupped his cheek. Something about seeing you with that ring on, knowing you would be his forever, really got to him. Seonghwa sat up more, this time slinging both of your legs over his elbows, the new angle brought a gasp out of you and when he began, he was immediately rougher than before. His hips snapped hard, and you yelped as he started, this time much more passionate then before. You were glad you were so well prepared from earlier, because this time he wasn't holding back, channeling everything he was feeling into each move.
"Oh, my god…" You gasped, a particularly hard thrust hitting just the right spot. Seonghwa led you to wrap your legs around his waist, propping himself up further to maintain the angle, slightly pressing you into the bed. His hands found yours, fingers linking through yours, pinning them to the bed above your head. He kissed you again, this time more tongue than anything, and you squeaked with each thrust. You could feel his emotion through every point of contact, and you marveled that he was going to be yours forever. He didn't pull back from the kiss, but his hips stuttered, both of you nearly there. At his final pump, you both fell over the edge, even more heat filled you, to the point it dripped out of you where his body met yours. Finally leaving the kiss so you could both catch your breath, Seonghwa pressed his forehead to yours.
"Happy birthday, love."
Masterlist
#ihavethedreamies#kpop#kpop fluff#kpop smut#kpop x reader#kpop fanfic#x reader#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez#ateez fluff#ateez smut#ateez seonghwa#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa smut#seonghwa fluff#park seonghwa#birthday fic
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nightingale
Fandom: Succession
Pairing: Roman Roy x F!Reader
Length: 15.5k words
AO3 Link: acalfinthemuseum
This is my first time writing a fanfic ever so please be gentle, I just couldn't resist writing something about my favorite little chew toy, Roman Roy. There's a little bit of Spanish sprinkled in because I love anything that keeps a miscommunication trope running. Click the AO3 link or see the footnotes at the bottom for a translation. English might be my first language but I’m bad at both lmao
Genre: Angst, Fluff, and Smut. Porn with Big feelings
Tags: weird power dynamics, spit kink, slight degradation (mutual), fingerfucking, mutual masturbation, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of familial abuse
Summary: Your job as an assistant to New York’s most eligible fascist bachelor, Roman Roy, comes with a lot of challenges. You find it hard to leave him though when you see the way his family treats him, and that's the only reason why you stay. It has nothing to do with the way he makes your face heat up at times. You both have a gift for digging under each other's skin and it's only more amplified when he visits your home late one night.
You find yourself hunched over your kitchen table and feel your eyes glaze over the unfinished puzzle taking over two-thirds of the table’s surface. Your brow furrows in frustration as you stare at the jigsaw pieces over the rim of your mug; sipping the “sleepy time” tea that has failed you miserably. You avoid looking at your phone, knowing that it’d only frustrate you more if you saw the time tick away closer to 3 in the morning. Sleep has evaded you once again, nothing new. You had decided long ago that rather than try to beg your body to let you sleep, thrashing about pathetically on your bed, you’d ride it out. You’ve rebranded your chronic insomnia as just a little bit of “me time” where you try to do the hobbies that you say you enjoy to people during small talk. You can practically hear your brain cells fizzle out and you decide to step away from the puzzle and sprawl over the nearby couch. You close your eyes in hopes that you might finally drift off but that dreadful antsy feeling— that anxiety for a train that will never pull in— seeps back in. Your eyes snap back open and you let out a small groan as you peel yourself off of the couch, opting to pace around for a bit instead. This was actually the first time in a few weeks that you’ve had to confront this problem. Your job, an assistant to New York’s most eligible fascist bachelor, Roman Roy, could almost be considered a relief to this issue of yours. Almost.
Your boss had a nasty habit of making you work late and not just an hour or two of overtime. He’d like to call you up at night when you had finally settled in at home and he’d ask —tell— you to come running right back to the office. Any sign of rebuttal from you is met with a quirky threat of firing you, raking you over proverbial coals. And, like the sweet dumb lamb you are, you do go running back to help him with whatever menial tasks he’s given that evening; there you are, hunched over the boardroom table (much larger than your own kitchen table) looking through the papers that clearly didn’t interest Roman enough for him to actually move from his perch. At times you’d look up from your work to look at him as he leans far back on a rollie chair sipping at god knows what kind of alcohol from the overpriced crystal in his hand. Each time you see him you quietly hope that he’ll lean too far and eat shit. No one has heard your silent prayer yet. The work he gave you during those nights was never too difficult, which you were grateful for, but sometimes it was the ease of it that drove you insane. It left you feeling a little hollow, an insignificant gray decoration for his desk that hasn’t had any time to do things outside of his orbit, even if you wanted to. Your own friends have started begging you to leave, find a job where your boss didn't expect you to drop everything and run, but for some reason you won’t. It was painfully cliché to say, but you didn’t find Roman nearly that bad during those evenings. Every so often he said something you genuinely found funny and in exchange there were other not so rare moments where you managed to make him crack. He would always order too much of some type of ludicrously expensive food for himself and then guilt you into finishing what he couldn’t. Eventually you realized it was his way to keep the both of you from starving overnight. His leftovers were always conveniently your favorites, you found him even ordering things he normally hated. He also always made it a point to message you each time you headed back home. Caring enough to check that you were still alive was as low as a bar could be but you did emphasize flexibility in your resume and you were, shamefully, a little too eager to bend for him. You couldn’t bring yourself to fully hate him but it was even worse that you found yourself liking him a little.
You remember one night you were in his office and he had given you the task of forging his signature on months’ worth of papers— a mind numbing task that you were certain he had given to you as a form of entrapment. You finished up rather quickly that night. The clock hadn’t even reached 1am and as you stood up, hoping to leave, he added on another task: to proofread his latest speech for a shareholder meeting. If he had asked you at a reasonable hour you might’ve been intrigued at the idea of being trusted enough to edit your boss’s work. But that night you felt snappy and asked why he couldn’t just use some sort of AI software instead to polish whatever garbage he had frankensteined together. He shot back that the moment a new Alexa or Cortana came with a better pair of tits he’d happily fire you on the spot. You must have felt sentimental that night because the only response you could muster was a bitter “thanks ”. A smarter person would’ve heard something like that and quit, but a little part of you felt fuzzy when you saw him grin at his own joke. An even sadder part was almost curious to know what that meant about how he looked at you, the phrase “better” implying he looked at your chest often enough to develop an opinion of it. Did you want that? You shake your head free of the memory, You drag your hands across your face and groan, suddenly feeling a little pathetic thinking about your boss late at night. You take in a deep breath and step towards your kitchen table once more. The loud, grating buzzer at your apartment’s door causes you to flinch midstep, fuck! For a split second you flip through all of the possibilities of who it might be and how quickly you could hide in safety if your home intrusion nightmares prove true. You slowly step back into your kitchen and you jump at the sudden ring of your phone. Speak of the devil and he will appear.
“Roman?” You answer curtly, any fear you may have felt is now blanketed by a layer of annoyance.
“Finally! I knew you were awake, now be a dear and open the door!”
“That’s you?? Why are you here? Go home.”
“Hmmm nah, nope. I’m good here. Now open up.”
“No???”
“ ‘kay, let me make it easier, open the door ooorrrr you’re fired.”
You feel your eyes threatening to roll back into your sockets as you head towards the door. You’re not particularly thrilled by the idea of him being in your home but you know he’d never leave without at least harassing your neighbors. Too tired to reason with him further, as is often the case, you do as he says and head to open the door for him. You crack the door open a smidge, blocking the opening with your body, he asked you to open the door —not to let him in. Your eyebrows raise in surprise as your gaze lands on a disheveled Roman, he raises one hand to wiggle his fingers in a hollow hello. You ignore the greeting and blurt out the first thing you notice.
“You look like shit.” Not the nicest thing you could say but you could live with that guilt.
“Aw, thanks.”
“What do you want?”
“Do you think the only reason I’m here is because I want something? That’s a little mean, I thought we were friends.”
Your mind slides the word friends back and forth, like floss between your ears.
“Are we?”
You let that question hang in the air, the idea of being considered Roman’s friend felt equal parts exciting and disappointing. Maybe he could tell you were hesitant. You didn’t like holding eye contact with Roman, it made you feel . . odd. But your annoyance, coupled with the restless hum that’s kept you awake, seems to help take the edge off and you don’t look away. The lighting is crude and sterile in the halls of your apartment building, your cheap landlord is seemingly attached to the fluorescent’s hostile charms, but you can still trace out what’s different about him tonight. You were accustomed to seeing him lose a bit of his polish at these hours when at work. His stupid slicked down hair turns unruly, suit jackets and ties go missing and his sleeves roll up unevenly, wrinkling his pristinely starched shirts. You’ve caught yourself staring at this version of him once or twice. It’s painful to admit that you thought he looked good— you’d sooner bite off your tongue than use the actual word you had initially thought of when you saw him, attractive . But tonight he looks tired, the stark lights shadow his face harshly and, when he shifts slightly, you notice he’s hurt. A busted lip and a matching cut on his right cheek are undeniable. You feel your jaw clench tight and an icy feeling slides down your neck.
“Rome…..” You hesitate using that nickname, it feels foreign in your mouth. Something indecipherable flickers past his eyes. You had heard the name said numerous times between his family but you weren’t quite sure if familiarity was a requirement for it. You push through it and keep speaking. “…. what happened?”
The smug smile he wore when you first opened the door has been pulled into a frown. He thought he’d be able to fall back into a comfy rhythm when he got you to open the door but the look in your eyes makes him feel small and stupid for even considering being here. His eyes drop to his feet and voice gets a little quieter.
“Can I come in? Please?”
The tension in your jaw releases when you hear him say please. You suddenly feel guilty making him wait outside like a stranded animal.
“Y-yeah, come on….”
You step aside to make room in the doorway for him. His shoulder brushes against yours as he steps inside and you bite your inner cheek at the rare touch, now’s no time for that. It was hard to push it down though, as big of a penchant as Roman had for draping himself over things, he rarely touched you. You had touchy bosses in the past so he was a welcome change, but sometimes it left you wondering if it meant something, like if he had a weird repulsion around you. Maybe that was for the best because you couldn't be certain that you'd pull away if he did lean in. You get a better look at him once you've closed the door and headed into the warm light of your kitchen and you feel a load of stones drop in your stomach.
“Shit. You look bad.” You grimace looking at the cuts on his face. He lets out a small puff of air through his nose.
“Are you always this nice to your guests?” His face scrunches up as if offended but the hint of amusement in his voice relaxes you a bit.
“Only the ones that I’m friends with.” He can hear a teasing lilt in your voice.
“Fuck off.” You see a small smile on his face and that warm fuzziness in your chest returns.
Hot coals sit heavy in your stomach though as you think of how it must hurt to smile like that with his face the way it is now. You roam around the kitchen to fix him a cup of water and some pain meds. You remember whiffing some type of malt liquor off of him when he brushed past you and then decide to pick out the dosage for him. You feel uninterested in helping damage his liver any further. You place the cup and pills on the countertop in front of him.
“Take this.”
He picks up the cup and pills in either hand. His eyes narrow as he looks at the medicine in his palm and back up to you.
“You better not be trying to roofie me.”
“Only in your dreams, Roman….” Your reply sounds tired. Ah, there’s the annoying man you know and love, you think to yourself.
“Clearly. Can’t even get you to admit that we’re friends, fuck .” His voice grows bristly and he looks back down at the pills in his hand.
“Why are you so bent over this?” Your face is furrowed with frustrated confusion.
He glares at the bargain brand ibuprofen in his open palm. A sour look grows on his face and he mutters under his breath.
“Yousaiditfirst.”
“What?”
Despite your one worded question, he leaves no space after what he said to elaborate. He swings the meds into his mouth and chugs all the water in his cup. You stare as he drinks, watching his throat gulp it all down. He takes in a sharp breath and sets his cup down on the countertop once he’s done.
“You said it first.” He repeats it clearly.
You give him a blank stare, cocking your head inquisitively, and if it were a different time and place he’d think you looked like a pretty bird. Roman grits his teeth and narrows his eyes at you, he knows that all things considered he shouldn’t be cold around you right now. It’s a dick move, but something about the genuine curiosity on your face as you blink at him makes him feel irritable. He knew when he hired you that people often deemed you to be a patient person, at least more so than the average person. And he had a wonderful knack for testing the nerves of anyone in a 15 ft radius. A perfect fit. He felt an initial sick glee at dragging you around everywhere, a shiny new stretch armstrong toy to entertain himself with. It made things easier that he actually enjoyed being around you; he thought you were funny, smart too, in a way that mattered. He had spent plenty of time around enough mouthbreathers to know the difference. You felt like a real person to him, a nice one, not some smarmy creep that plays all field but rather, someone who had a large capacity for kindness. And right now he feels like it’s coming back to bite him in the ass. You felt comfortable to him and that was an uncomfortable thought to have. He’s noticed that he’s always looking forward to being around you, to the point that whenever you’ve tried to leave him on late nights he feels offended. Wasn’t being around him enough for you like it was for him? He liked to bury that thought by reminding you, both of you, that he could ruin your life in minutes. You can’t go away, the only way this can end is if he makes you. He knows you’re smart and part of him tries to convince himself that that should be enough for you to already know how he feels and why he acts the way he does around you. It’s a half-boiled alibi that helps him feel better about being a shitty friend. Why did you come back to the office, why did you open the door, why did you answer your phone? It’s not his fault if you kept coming back after he gave you numerous outs, right? It’s incredibly manipulative of you to look so fucking sweet and make him feel guilty for being a constant shithead. Yep, your fault. Not his.
“You were the first one to say it. Remember? Amigo?? Your cousin???” His voice sounds like he tastes something bitter around the word amigo. You give him an empty blink and then it clicks.
“Oh.”
He was right.
That night was such a shitshow, it’s no wonder that you had forgotten what you said. There were parts of it you wish that you could forget. It was while you were all still in Argestes, Roman and his siblings were set to speak on a panel together and address the controversy surrounding gross misconduct rampant in their company’s cruise line. In a twist no one could ever have predicted, Shiv and Kendall use it as a chance to stomp each other out, and then there’s Roman, with barely enough room to squeeze in a paltry line. You remember the dejected slump of his shoulders when they all walked back into the green room, you stood close by but didn’t speak, listening on as siblings and father bicker. You remember hearing Roman grilling into Shiv, the way she threw their dad overboard. He sounded vaguely content, like he was eager to have a chance to kick the dog rather than be kicked. The smugness was knocked out clean in one sudden strike. You blink, there’s the loud smack, a blur of Logan’s hand, and Roman keeling over, hand over his face. You feel cold, stuck in place watching it unfold. His siblings help him up, others focus on talking Logan down, pleading with him, and when you see blood you think you can feel your heart stop. You snap into movement, scrounging around the room for ice and a towel– a rag, anything that might help. Your head nervously sways around the room, looking at Roman and then back at your surroundings, each time you look at him it feels more urgent, you have to stop the bleeding. You look back and he’s making a beeline to leave. You need to stop the bleeding. You chase after him.
“Roman! Roman, wait! Rom—”
He groans loudly and turns on his heels, about to tell you to “fuck off” when you crash into him slightly from momentum. You mutter a few “sorry”s but don’t leave him any room to reply, your hands press a makeshift ice pack to his face. He tenses when you take his hand in yours, guiding it to hold the bundle in place.
“Come on, let’s go.”
He doesn’t respond, he feels like he can’t. Maybe the slap was enough to bite his tongue off. But even if he could retaliate, he doesn’t want to, not now when your hands rest on his forearm; your grip is gentle as you guide him to the parking lot. He gets in when you open the car door and it’s not till you’ve driven off the property that he looks back at you and manages to mumble something.
“Where the fuck are you even going?”
“Not sure.” A dentist hopefully. Home, eventually.
You don’t look at him when you answer, eyes locked on the road ahead. He notices your knuckles growing white as you grip the wheel but he doesn’t say more, icing his wounds feels like a perfect excuse. You call up a distant cousin, one who, luckily enough, had opened up their own dental practice less than an hour away. It’s only till the third call that they answer, they had been getting ready for bed. You speak to them Spanish, it serves as both a familial appeal and a chance for some privacy. Roman focuses on you as you talk, suddenly regretting not paying more attention in his language classes back in college. Your face is enough to keep him vaguely in the know. Your cousin sounded tired, unconvinced and you looked scared.
“Anda primuis…. Por fa?? Es mi amigo.” ¹
Now that’s a part that he understands, he feels a funny flutter in his chest when he hears it. That sentence feeds a warm hopeful part of him but it’s accompanied by a strong sense of guilt when he hears your voice crack oh so slightly. You were scared. He fucked up and now you’re stuck here trying to help piece him back together. Great. He turns his head away and looks out the passenger window. There’s dozens of things that could float around his mind at this moment but he tries to hold on to that weak little sound byte. It’s all he could repeat in his mind to keep from crying, he keeps his face stiff and watery eyes trained to the window. He doesn’t speak the rest of the car ride, you barely make out a slight nod of his head when you hang up the phone and tell him you’re headed to your cousin's office. You give silent thanks when you see your cousin's car already in the parking lot.
Roman greets them politely, a bit more quiet than you’re used to seeing him, but he looks collected and that gives you some relief. You act as your cousin's assistant, handing them tools you vaguely recognize and holding a mirror and light in place. Apparently Logan had managed to knock off one of Roman’s veneers; the porcelain had left some nasty cuts on his gums. It was a quick enough fix between the two of you. You neared the final step and you watched your cousin prep a needle, ready to numb an area where Roman needed a suture. Absent-mindedly, one of your hands grips his arm. He tenses slightly under the comforting squeeze and you worry that you overstepped something, not used to seeing him so still. Once the final stitch is tied off, you step back and admire the work. Your cousin instructs Roman to smile and you both feel relieved that your work paid off, his smile looked as unfairly handsome as you thought it always did. Before you can think clearly, you blurt out something that Roman can only conceive of as a stupid joke.
“You look nice.”
He clicks his tongue in response. You think you can see warmth in his eyes when he smiles at you; a small dimpled thing. He opens his mouth to give you another quip in return but your cousin ushers you away to the corner of the office and Roman feels a chill on his neck. He hears them speak to you in Spanish again and he tries not to look strained as he leans forward a bit, trying to hear you.
“Sabes que me puedes decir lo qué sea, verdad?” ² Your cousin's voice sounds soft, a little like yours.
“Qué?” Roman knew that word, you’ve even made that same scrunched up face at him a couple times.
“Es tu novio?”³ He knew that word too, your cousin's head tilted slightly in his direction. his ears perk up and that weird flutter comes back. His eyes stay on your face, he tries to decipher the look on your face: embarrassment? disgust?
“No.” You punctuate that word with a small bark of laughter. Roman suddenly feels sick.
“Creo que el no sabe eso. Te queda viendo.”⁴ He’s lost again. Your head turns to look right at him. Shit . You lock eyes with him and smile. If he didn’t already feel a little dizzy, he would have now. Something about that smile felt like a slap. He supposes that rejection doesn’t always need a physical hand to follow in order for it to hit. You look away and he feels something sharp. It’s as if you had just sliced him, belly up.
“Soy la única cosa en este méndigo cuarto que él reconoce. Obvio que me queda viendo. No soy pendeja.”⁵ He’s got no clue what you said, but you sound a little defensive, annoyed even. There’s still a smile on your face when you turn back to talk to your cousin. Roman can’t see it fully but it loses its warmth. He assumes that, as usual, he’s the distasteful thing in the room. In reality you turn away to avoid your face growing flushed once more. Leave it to the family to strike a nerve so easily.
“Hm.” A skeptical sound from your cousin.
“Hm.” You mimic, not enjoying the doubtful look they give you. Not enjoying the skip you felt in your pulse when you noticed Roman looking. This was something you’d have to think about later and you weren’t looking forward to it.
“Me vale madre pues. Dile que le va a costar 60 bolas, descuento familiar.”⁶ Your cousin gives a smug smile, believing your annoyance proves their point. They’re definitely telling your aunt and uncle.
“Oh.” You can’t say much more. You feel your face grow hot as the memory comes back. He heard that , you wonder what other parts he listened in on.
“Oh.” He echoes bitterly. The accusing glint in his eyes is gone but part of you wants it to come back. Anything might be better than the disappointment that’s left there. That pang of guilt you had swings back in at full force.
“I’m sorry.” You sound defeated, your head tilting down. You feel a pinch of regret following him that night, you never questioned if he even wanted you there.
“You’re sorry ?” You’re gutting him.
“I— I shouldn’t have said that.” Maybe you had misread things, maybe he didn’t want you close. He certainly reminded you often enough of your fragile position to make that a possibility. That couldn’t be further from the truth though and your meek little “apology” for calling Roman your friend entrenches him further in his belief that there’s no way you actually ever liked him.
You won’t look him in the eyes, his empty glass on the counter now more interesting than him. Oh, you are twisting that fucking knife into him.
“Oh so now you’re just taking it back??” A new emotion for tonight. You had the displeasure of an angry Roman in your kitchen now and you weren’t even exactly sure why.
“Wha– do you want to be friends?” Your eyes snap back up to his and he almost flinches. You look upset, sound upset, but the question is worded the same way a kindergartener would ask it. He’s surprised your teeth aren’t rotting out from the sickly sweetness. He didn't want to answer you. It would have been easier if you had never picked up the phone tonight. Of course, he wanted to be friends, he’d take anything you’d give him and it feels humiliating.
“Fuck no.” Roman lets out a mirthless giggle.
You’re not happy with his answer. You don’t want to believe it and you’re not gonna. You wonder if Roman would’ve ever done the same for you; given you the option of being friends. He’s got on a cruel tight-lipped smile and you realize he never would’ve given you the option. Why offer that courtesy to him? You take in a short breath.
“Sounds like you really want to be friends with me.” You ignore the prickle of heat at your tear ducts and manage to conjure up a self-assured smile.
“I don’t. You probably have cooties.” He quips with a jeer.
“I do, actually. Aaaaaaand you drank my spit water.” He ews. You keep going.
“So we’re pretty much cootie-bonded to each other forever. I’m, like, legally your friend now. ” You see his face struggle to shape itself into what he wants. His nose is wrinkled in disgust but his mouth threatens to pull into an earnest smile. You grin, feeling a speck of warmth grow in your chest. Every so often you understand why Roman enjoys being a pest, his annoyance is funny to you.
“Yeah? Well, I’m not yours.” He was, though.
“That’s fine. I can work with that.” You manage to sound casual.
“I don’t like you.” There isn’t any acid in his voice as the smile that was pulling at the corners of his mouth fully takes hold. He likes you. But the words still sting a bit. You feel your throat getting a little tight, you have to tread lightly. Back and forths were fun for you till they suddenly weren’t.
“Bummer. My cooties like you, I can hear them. They're swirling around in there.” You step a little closer, eyeing his stomach in stubborn commitment to the bit. There’s a glimmer of pride when you hear him laugh. A full bellied, honest laugh.
“You’re gross.” And just like that you manage to coast past something stormy, Roman’s no longer souring the air. He really fucking likes you. A small part of him wants to kiss you, condemn you with real cooties. But he smiles back at you instead. Your heart rate shoots up and you blame it on the lack of sleep, not the twinkle in his eyes.
“At least I’m not the one who looks gross.” You move to grab a damp paper towel. “Seriously, did you even bother cleaning yourself before you got here?”
“Shut up. It’s not that bad.” His brows rise up in emphasis.
“It kinda is.” You move in closer, feeling bold. Your hands reach out to wipe his face but he grabs hold of your wrists. You let out a small huff and try to pull out of their grip.
“Stop that.” His voice gets a little higher, like he’s nervous.
“No.” You both wriggle around like that for a bit. It looks a little silly, like he was trying to keep you from tickling him.
“Fuck off.”
“Just lemme see it.” You lift your arm in a way that gives you a chance to bite his hand. He lets go of your hands, swearing loudly but not in pain, just surprise. You manage to wipe at the cut on his cheek. He can feel his mouth go dry when you stand so close.
“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it …” You trail off, distracted. That cold feeling creeps back in. He watches your brow furrow in concern. “You’re still bleeding.”
“It’ll be fine.” He looks unconcerned and that breaks your heart. Maybe he’s ok with bleeding out but you weren’t.
“It will be. Wait here. Don’t . . . don’t fucking touch anything.” You take a step away from him and he feels like the room gets a little cold without you in it.
As you make your way to your room, looking for the first aid kit you kept somewhere, Roman stands in your kitchen. For a moment he’s stuck in place, all he can do is think of what just happened. Clenching and unclenching his hands into fists repeatedly, he tries to linger on how soft your wrists felt, it unsettles him how nicely his fingers wrapped around them. He feels a little dizzy knowing he’s actually in your home and you haven’t even tried to kick him out yet. But the sting and dull painful ache across his face sober him up a bit. You were a nice person, and you were doing the things a nice person was expected to do for their friend. He shouldn’t think anything of this. Part of him wasn’t even sure if he would have gotten such a warm welcome if he didn’t show up bloodied on your doorstep. He didn’t dislike you patching him but he didn’t want this to be the only thing you saw in him; a sniveling puppy of a man. He lets out a deep breath and walks around your home, trying not to dwell on his feelings of inadequacy. The puzzle you left on your dining table catches his eye. His eyes scan over the pieces, he remembers your instruction to not touch anything and decides to ignore it. A single jigsaw bit stands out to him, he holds and places it gently, like he doesn’t want to make any noise. The piece fits right in and Roman smiles to himself, a small blink of accomplishment. He hears your footsteps but he’s still caught off guard when he looks up and sees you right by his side.
“Didn’t I say not to touch anything? You better not be fucking up my puzzle.” You sound so warm. The small smile you give him is annoyingly cute.
“I’m not. I’m just giving you the help you clearly need.” Roman’s stomach feels lighter.
“Charitable of you.” You say flatly. There’s a smug smile on his face.
“Very.”
“I hear you’re getting the key to the city tomorrow?”
“Yep, everyone loves me. Wouldn't kill you to be grateful either. You should be saying " Oh, thank you sooo much, Mr. Roy!” He bats his eyes at you. “Please, how can I repay you? I’d do anything . . .” His voice goes high and airy trying to mimic you. You fail to hold back a laugh and he feels ill from the dopamine rush that sound gives him.
“I don't sound like that.” You try to sound annoyed, it's unconvincing.
“You do.” He gives you his signature shit eating grin and flicks a jigsaw piece at you, it bounces off your shoulder.
“I do not.” You fling a puzzle bit at him in return but it sails right past him miserably. He chuckles, sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry. Actually annoyed now, you reach out and flick his nose. He groans and his face scrunches up; the sound makes your cheeks feel a little warm.
“Fuck you.” His voice is a little lower as he rubs his nose. You giggle a bit.
“Anything for you, Mr. Roy.” You say dryly. You continue and give Roman a smug smile of your own. “Now go sit on the damn couch.”
With a dramatic “ ugh!” he does as you say and moves to the couch, you follow close behind. You set out the first aid items on the side table. You perch on the sofa’s arm as you flip through the kit for some alcohol wipes. You open the packet and stand up, thinking it might be easier to just lean over him. He suddenly feels squeamish when your hand guides his chin to look up at you.
“You washed your hands right?” He asks. He already knows the answer but he’s looking for something to fill up the silence.
“Of course I did.” One of your legs knocks against his knees and it rattles through him.
“You’re sure?” He does his best to not look a little panicky but he can smell the laundry detergent you use and he hates how much he likes it.
“Positive.” You look down at him a little worried. You think he’s still making a fuss in stubborn faith that the cuts will turn out fine. Your frustration leaves a bit of a kick in your words. “Roman, I need you to trust me and shut the fuck up for once in your life .”
“Okay, okay. . . I’ll shut up now.”
You both end up feeling uneasy- oddly guilty. You regret telling him to shut up. Your hands reach back for his face gently, you hope he can't tell there’s a slight tremble in your hands. He can’t, he’s too focused on how warm they are. But the words you said are snagging into his sides. There's a part of him that wonders how much he annoys you and if you knew how much he actually did trust you. You were the first one he thought of when he got hurt.
“Sorry. That was a little mean.” Your voice is quiet again and it sounds so soft. Weight is piling onto Roman’s chest.
“It’s fine.” He sounds so small, there’s a part of you that wants nothing more than to just hold him. Another small but loud and prideful part is disgusted by the idea of coddling him and it shames the rest of you into stoic submission. The guilt eats away at you but you give him a small doleful smile before you tilt his face to the side.
“Deep breath. This is gonna sting a little.” He does and you begin to lightly wipe the fresh cut on his face. You hear him grunt a bit, his face scrunches slightly in discomfort. You let out a small commiserating hiss as you stare in concentration at the angry welt along his cheekbone. You bite your lip as you apply ointment to the area.
“This really looks like it hurts.” The concern in your voice is clear and he can feel the skin on his cheek tingle from both the rubbing alcohol and your touch. He looks up at you from the corner of his eyes, his head still turned and he feels like it's almost worth the pain when you glide your finger across his cheek to keep the bandage in place. Your tightly knit brow drops when you hear him chuckle.
“You should’ve seen the other guy.” He slides back into that sarcastic tone so easily. You don’t fight it, you know it helps him feel a bit safer.
“Oh yeah, what did he look like?” Roman sees a flash of teeth when you grin as you speak. Your voice sounds amused and he tries to ignore the blood rushing to his face when you guide him to look you head on again. It feels like you’re taunting him when you gingerly push his hair back a bit, his scalp tingles where your nails drag along and he wants to sink into your couch.
“Geriatric. Wrinkly old fuck kicked my ass.” His voice is quiet and tense. The latter for more reasons than you were aware of.
“Hm” You let out a quick, sharp puff of air, not enough to even be classified as a snort or a chuckle. You mull over his words for a moment. You know he meant his dad and you feel something in you freeze. You hate seeing him get hurt, but you know well how much someone could put up with, how strongly you can want someone to love you back. You rattle your brain trying to find something a little helpful to say. You can’t. “You were doing your best.”
“I fucked it.” He frowns. Your palms are warm when they cradle his chin and he wants to enjoy that but he can’t. It’s a little sad that this is the only way he can get you to touch him.
“Maybe. You tried though.” Your thumb presses lightly against his bottom lip, trying to get a better look at the wound. Roman hisses a bit, he can feel his cock get hard and he feels . . . icky, for lack of a better word. You’re trying to care about him and he was being gross, creepy; he needs to leave.
“I think that makes it worse.” You sigh through your nose, you want him to let you in but you focus back on patching the cracks for now.
“Deep breath.”
A pitiful, pained noise is caught in his throat, his body jerks away from you and it’s just enough to make you lose your footing. You steady yourself by gripping his shoulder roughly, one your legs that fell forward against the couch is now slotted between his knees. You’re the closest you’ve ever been and Roman’s scared shitless.
“You fucking bitch.” His words are slurred as he sucks in air to soothe the chemical sting. You feel like a disembodied hand is tightening its grasp on your throat.
“I told you to breathe, and don’t call me that.” You manage to spit out a response that doesn’t sound as weak as you feel.
“What? A bitch? Sowwy, does that hurt uwr feewings??” His voice slips easily into a mocking babyish voice. The tone sounds meaner than you’ve ever really heard it being directed at you and you aren’t sure how to respond, you feel your face grow pink with shame.
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you! And close your fucking legs, you’re letting in a draft!” He shoves your leg away from his knees and he shuts his legs tight, he tries not to look at his lap when he feels his cock twitch a bit in his pants. You’re completely oblivious.
“Stop saying that shit. I’m trying to fucking help you.” You bite your inner cheeks for a moment, a habit you developed as a kid to keep yourself from tearing up in front of others.
“Can’t help me much if I fall into your cavernous vagina, can you?” Hostility stretched into a smile makes it feel more like he’s baring his teeth. Roman’s mind is racing with things to say to get him out of this. A coyote typically settles for biting off his own limb to escape but yours will do fine.
“It’s not my fault that everything looks huge compared to your sad little cock.” Finally . You’re finally biting back, he’s trying to build a reason to push you out and you just took the bait.
“Oh that’s nice. I think Human Resources will love that one.”
“HR? Really? Don’t you think they’re tired of seeing your name come up in the complaint log weekly.”
“You’re right, it might just be better to let you go.”
“Ooo, you’re gonna threaten to fire me again? Cool. Awesome. Go ahead, if that’s what gets your wormy little dick stiff.”
“It does actually, yeah.”
“Well, I hope you actually get to fuck something once you’ve fucked me over.”
“Sure will, gonna hire a bouncy new little fuck bunny assistant. One that doesn’t use her dick lips to talk back.”
“I fucking hate you.” You pull on his hair, hard. Part of you doesn’t want to be this harsh with him after what his father did tonight but part of you knows that this doesn’t really hurt. Not as much as it should. Your eyes widen a bit in surprise, enjoying the sweet, wimpy cry that falls out of him; it makes you want to sit on his face. Roman finds it hard to breathe, the tip of his prick is dripping no doubt. His eyes are half lidded but they glimmer under the dim light of your living room as he blatantly stares at your lips. He's transfixed by how soft they look, your grip on him feels good and he doesn’t care enough to pull away. You rest your thumb on his lower lip again and his lips part but not wide enough.
“Open up.”
He nods a little and opens wide. His brain short circuits when you spit into his mouth. He thinks your spit tastes sweet like you— he ignores the idea that there might be something wrong with him. You feel that familiar wanting flutter down below when you watch him swallow your own spit. He whines again when your hand loosens its grip, he needs more. His hands, that were gripping the couch beneath him this entire time, find their way to the small of your back. He pulls you into his lap and buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing any skin he can find. A nagging voice in your head knows that this is probably a horrible idea but then he nips the skin on your shoulder and you feel yourself turning into putty. Your grip on his hair tightens again as you look for something to cling onto, he groans and his breath is hot and wet against your skin. You say his name in a soft, pleased sigh and it makes something in him crack. Fuck . He needs to hear that again, the glowing pride he gets from making you sound like that feels addictive. He needs you, he doesn't really know how he’s held out this long around you. His kisses are feverish and his grip tightens around your hips. He can’t help but grind up into you looking for some relief. You tense when you feel how hard he is under you.
“Rome... wait.” His entire body stiffens under you, stopping immediately. He makes a cute little groan when he lifts his head away. His cheeks are flushed and you almost regret pulling away when you see how pretty he looks. You feel yourself clench around nothing.
“What is it?” He tries to sound casual, but he’s terrified that he might have fucked things up.
“I still need to fix your lip.” He groans again, this time in disappointment.
“We can do that later.” He sounds impatient but his thumbs rub light circles over your hips and it feels so gentle.
“No, we can do it now.” He looks upset but it doesn’t sting you this time. You know you’re in the right. This serves as further proof to him that you’re an annoyingly nice person.
“Can’t you just. . . I dunno, kiss it better ?”
“Rome. . . “ You’re smiling at him and it doesn’t feel like pity, it feels like love. He wants that to be the case but he doesn’t know what he’d do with himself if it weren’t true.
“Please?” He sounds so good like that, a little desperate and pleading. You wonder if he said it like that on purpose, his big eyes and that small little pout feel unfair. You take in a sharp breath and bite your lip in contemplation; your cunt feels painfully empty. Ever the self-denier, you shake your head.
“I think it’s more important to make sure you’re ok.”
“I’m fine!” His tone is defensive, face annoyed.
“Stop saying that, no you’re not. You don’t see me when you’re doing fine!” Your voice is firm, a little angry even, and he knows you’re right.
“Shut up, I see you all the time.”
“You wouldn’t have come tonight if you were ok.” That part seems to stick with him. He doesn’t have anything to throw back at you. “You can ghost me or fire me or do whatever you want after tonight but I at least want to try to help.”
You make it sound like it’d be a little too easy for him to just leave, and it is. He’s made a big point of it since he first met you, but that’s not what he wants. He’d like a cage big enough for the two of you, he’d never worry about who would help him lick the wounds.
“Why bother, just gonna get hit again.” He avoids your gaze, this is starting to make him feel small again. You grit your teeth and fight back the twisting in your gut at the thought of seeing him get hurt. Again.
“Then you can visit me again.” You make it sound like a small thing, like you’re not eager for the company. Truth be told, you’re going crazy wondering what he’s up to when you aren’t around.
“You’d get sick of it. Sick of me.”
“I won’t.” Those two words slip out of you so fast, it surprises the both of you. His eyes meet yours again and it helps you keep going.
“I care about you, Roman.” He didn’t expect to hear those words from you, not after you said you hated him just a minute ago. You don’t sound like you’re lying to him, but he still feels an urge to look around for a trap. “I wouldn’t be doing this for anyone else.” His pulse goes haywire.
“If you cared about me so much you wouldn’t just ignore me when I say my dick’s about to explode.”
“I’ll kiss it better later.”
“You really are a bitch.”
“Sure am.”
You lift yourself off of him to grab a few things from your aid kit and he instantly misses your weight on him. His heart gets into a funky little panic till you come back and lean into him again, easing the ache. You feel a bit more confident touching his face this time round. Your hands don’t shake but they hold his chin gently. Roman loves any touch you give him but he can’t help but be a little amused that your hands feel so shy. You feel a little embarrassed that he distracted you so easily, that he could have had you so quickly. You were whipped, plain and simple. You try to drown those thoughts by focusing on cleaning him again. You don’t think you could live it down if his cut got infected from his vacuum-seal sucking on your neck, and you’d rather die in a hole than learn if it was your spit that did him in. You refuse to let either be an option and so you dress his wound diligently, you try to ignore the heat building in your stomach as Roman distracts himself by tracing circles along the sides of your thighs. Your knee is back to being stuck between his thighs and he prays that you shift your weight, bring your knee a bit higher so he can get some friction. His grip on you tightens when you apply liquid bandage over the cut, it burns a bit. You know it's an uncomfortable feeling so you scoot in closer, you run your fingers through his hair and he moans a little. The strands are stringy with gel but his roots are soft, he closes his eyes when you scratch his scalp. You blow air gently over his bottom lip, like you were drying a new set of nails, trying to soothe the sting. He leans up, trying to catch you in a kiss but your hand rests against his chest and he stills again. His eyes look so hopeful when he peers up at you, he’s oddly obedient. You lean in and press a kiss to his cheek instead, your voice is quiet as you speak close to his ear.
“It takes a few minutes to fully dry. . .”
The full on pout on his face would have made you laugh if the whine he made didn’t sound so needy . He’s been so cute, you’d feel guilty if you made him wait any longer. it’s not like you could wait for it either. You’re grateful that he can't see how drenched he’s made you, it feels a little shameful and a little good. You test the waters and move your knee in closer, he presses his erection to it and grinds softly against you. Your fingers run through and grip his hair again, you pull his head back and trail kisses down his neck. You nip at a spot beneath his jaw and his moan rattles around in your brain, your skin feels hot and you can feel yourself aching. You kiss his collarbone and blindly fumble while undoing the buttons of his shirt. He lets out a small giggle, something grating and high pitched that his father would beat him for; it’s one of your favorite sounds.
“Someone’s a lil desperate, aren’t they?” His voice is quiet, a little raspy, but smug.
“You feel hot, I don't want you to die from a fever.” You sound a little breathless when you respond, your lips latched on to him so quickly you hadn’t really taken a proper breath.
“Mmm, lucky I’m around someone so thoughtful.”
“Yep, no ulterior motives.” He can hear you smile as you talk back against his throat. You undo the last button of his shirt and your hands find their way to his sides. Your mouth moves lower to his sternum, he notices that you like leaving a little trail of bites wherever you kiss. He makes a note in his head to return the favor.
“None whatsoever, just wanna motorboat my flat tits.” He talks a lot. You don’t mind.
“Yeah. Consider it your breast cancer screening.” You realize your cheeks hurt a little bit from smiling as your mouth and hands move to his chest. You hear a soft groan get trapped in his throat when your teeth graze against his nipple. You feel his hand shift and cup your ass firmly while his hips rut against your leg again.
“You’d make a terrible excuse for a nurse. Absolute shit bedside manners.” That earns a laugh from you, something bubbly and cute. You look up at him with what he thinks looks like a loving smile and he feels a sharp pain in his chest. He’s not sure why he feels this, it should be easy for him to touch you, he wants to touch you but he still feels wrong. Is this gross? Is it good? He gulps and it feels like swallowing needles; his face manages to keep a soft smile. You give him a small playful pout and you cup his face, your other hand slides down to take hold of his.
“You think so? I thought I was being nice.” You guide his hand under your shirt, sliding up your stomach to your breasts. You dig your leg closer into his groin and he whines again, his hand grips mindlessly onto one of your breasts. You smile and kiss his forehead. “Do I feel nice?”
“.. yeah….” He nods slightly, not wanting to move away from your kiss. Your lips feel so soft, you feel softer to him than anything. There’s an anxious bubbling in his stomach at feeling so warm. Nothing he’s wanted has ever been his to keep, he shouldn’t think this is any different.
He rests his head against your shoulder and sighs as your hands slide down his chest. He can feel his stomach lurch, here comes the drop, the point where you leave. You’ll see him and find something you hate and then he’ll learn to hate it too. Your fingers thread through his happy trail downwards till you feel his soft stomach tense. You lift your hand off slowly, not wanting to scare him with sudden movements, and bring it up to hold his face once more.
“Rome? You ok?” Your voice is hushed and quiet.
“Y-yeah I’m fine. Peachy keen.” It sounds forced, the words rush out too fast. You worry you might have pushed him into something upsetting. Your thumb rubs his cheek gently.
You were one of few people in his life whose touch didn’t make his skin crawl. It feels like a good thing but it also leaves him paralyzed. For Roman, sex was followed by a bitter aftertaste, a heaviness in the chest. He worries that it’s a balancing act. If he’s not the one feeling repulsive and shameful then that must mean you are, he doesn’t want that for you. He’d die if he ever made you feel that way.
“You don’t have to go through with this, you know. You’re allowed to back out.”
“I know that. I’m not dumb.” He rolls his eyes as if in annoyance but his voice sounds cagey. He doesn’t want to back out, he’s wanted you for so long. He’d rather lose another tooth than admit he’s nervous and he doesn’t know what to do.
“I never said you were. I just— I want you to know that I’ll still like you after this, even if nothing happens.” There you were, saying just the right thing to cut into him.
“You said you fucking hate me. Won’t even kiss me.” His voice cracks a little and you feel your stomach flip.
“I did, yeah. I was mad at you and I said that and I’m sorry. . . you know when people just say things they don't mean?"
Roman knows you're referring to him and he thinks of every rude thing he's ever said to you. He meant none of it, he thinks you're wonderful. He swallows thickly and takes in an uncomfortable breath but he doesn't open his mouth to respond so you keep talking.
"But I don’t really hate you, Rome, I like you too much to ever hate you.” You cut him again and a happy warm feeling bleeds out.
It’s getting easier to swallow but he hates how much this matters to him, he wants you to like him. Your hand cupping his face slides down a bit and your thumb ghosts over his bottom lip, checking the wound. You smile when you feel the liquid bandage has fully dried, you lean in close.
“I can kiss you now. . .if you still want me to. . .”
Roman blinks for a moment, trying to breathe and take everything in. He stares at your lips for a moment, full, pink and soft, and there’s a flicker of something on his face that makes you scared he’s gonna leave. But he nods and you feel his arms wrap around your waist, his hand holds the back of your neck gently and he pulls you in for a kiss. It’s slow and delicate, different from the frenzy he had when he attacked your neck earlier. As if he’s no longer worried that you’ll vanish into a speck of light the moment he admits he wants you. He buries his hand in your hair, enjoying how soft it is. He can feel you smile into the kiss and a sappy sweet feeling fills him up, overflowing. He bites your bottom lip and swallows the moan that leaves your mouth, he tastes your saliva again and the tenderness he has for you mixes with something volatile. He lets himself be needy, his hands grip at your hips and hair and his teeth clash against yours as he tries to taste more of you. You reach a point where you need to catch your breath and you pull away. He gives you that same dimpled smile he gave you that one night and when he tucks your hair behind your ear you feel like you might say you love him.
“I’m glad you came here tonight, Rome.” That's the closest to saying it that you can manage for now.
“Ew.” He says it softly, teasing.
“I need you to be serious with me.” You chuckle as you speak.
“I am being serious.
“Are you?
“Yeah, I am and my dick is seriously about to fall off.” Ah yes, very serious.
“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” There's genuine curiosity in your voice. A part of you is actually surprised that he wants to escalate things.
“I don’t fucking know, suck me off or something?” Once again, Roman holds the same levels of charm and power of seduction as a cum-filled sock.
“Incredibly tempting offer. Buuut, I didn’t really hear a “please” in there so I think I’ll pass.”
“Oh god, it’s falling off and it’s all your fault because you won’t be a good little assistant and fuck your boss.” He tilts his head back, reveling in melodramatics to avoid telling you exactly what he wants. If this were a different night and he acted like a different man then the scenario he painted might have appealed more to you. You enjoyed whenever past partners wielded power over you but something about Roman's choice of words tells you that you shouldn't let it be so easy. Isn't it typically the boss who fucks the assistant?
"Would I get a raise?" Roman thinks he sees something wicked flash in your eyes as you keep an innocent smile on your lips.
"You would get to keep your job." The haughty grin on his face leaves your knees feeling a little weak. Where's the fun without a threat to your livelihood?
“Yeah, nope. Not gonna touch you until you tell me what you want so you might as well start figuring out how to fuck yourself on your own.”
Whatever frustration there was on his face disappears, a satisfied smile takes it place like he just had an idea.
“Fine.” He sounds a little too content. He lowers his hands to his lap and unbuttons his pants. He keeps his eyes on you while he shoves his hand down his pants reaching towards the thick bulge straining against his slacks. Your gaze hovers between his crotch and the wry glint in his eyes.
“What are you. . ? Is this supposed to make me jealous?” An incredulous tone is heavy in your voice.
“Yep.” He sounds a little breathless, he lets out a little moan before he speaks again. His hand slowly strokes himself in his pants. “I know it will, you’re probably gonna soak my thigh through your shorts.”
“Take them off then.” You say it in such a calm tone it catches Roman a little off guard. With a puzzled look he glances down between your crotch and then his own. You smile and nod at his pants. “Blocks my view.”
He smiles, a little giddy that you’re playing along. You lift yourself off of his lap for a moment so he can shimmy out of his pants. You settle back onto him, straddling one of his thighs, and try to ignore the ache between your legs. His eyes fall back on yours and you raise your brows expectantly, Go on. He’s not sure where to look, not sure if you’d appreciate him staring. He tilts his head back a bit, opting for the tried and true, and looks up at your shitty popcorn ceiling. His forehead creases with a nervous look as he adjusts himself a little and pulls out his cock, the length curves upward towards his soft stomach. It’s cute. Roman would probably die of embarrassment if he heard you say that aloud, but it’s the first word that comes to mind when you see it. A light pink, twitchy little thing that you know would hit that gushy spot deep in you just right. You want him to fill you till you hurt. It’s impossible for you to push that thought down when you hear him curse under his breath and feel his legs shake slightly. His thigh grinds slightly against your clit, it’s puffy and sensitive, desperate for touch like the rest of you. You whine softly at the friction but the moment it passes through your lips his eyes are back on you and you know what you're in for.
“Having fun?” You feel your face get hot. Roman grins widely, way too happy to hear that little sound you made.
“I guess…” You don’t bother denying it but there’s an urge to talk back. “Out of curiosity how long does it usually take you to cum?— Not that I’m bored or anything but it’s getting pretty late. . .” You hear him snort, he’s stopped stroking himself.
“It’s usually faster when I’m watching something. But if you’re feeling antsy to rub one out in your room you don’t have to wait, you could do that here.” He bounces his leg under you a bit, he’s found another way to annoy you. You keep your hips still, your pussy screams at you to grind down on him and chase your release.
“Are you asking for something to look at?”
“Yeah, gimme a show.” He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and you feel your mind go into a fritz when he pulls at them a bit. “It’s the least you could do.”
He lets go and the elastic snaps back into your hip. Your thighs squeeze around him at the sudden feeling and you can feel blood rush behind your ears when he gives you a knowing smile. It doesn’t surprise you that one of the richest men you’ve ever met was a shitty little brat, but you’ve never wanted to fuck someone’s brains out more.
“The least I could do, huh?” He looks comfortable. That mean urge creeps into you. “Fuck it, why not?” Your voice is light and playful.
Roman looks a little surprised, a small eager gleam grows in his eyes when your hands move to the hem of your shirt. His full attention is on you. You take a breath, ignoring the small tinge of shyness and take off your shirt, tossing it aside. The cold air of the living room doesn’t affect you when you hear Roman let out a low whistle of appreciation. That fluttery feeling comes back for a moment and you let out a small laugh. You lift yourself off of him once again and slip off your shorts, leaving them where they fall. You stand in front of him clad in nothing but your panties and you struggle to push down the urge to wrap your arms around yourself, make yourself smaller. When you lock eyes again he smiles at you, just a sweet happy smile on a battered face, and you feel something in you thaw out. Your knees sink into the couch, interlocking with Roman’s legs but you don’t sit fully onto his lap. His hands hover over your hips, unsure where to touch you and his awkwardness melts you enough to bring him in for another kiss. He feels his heart skip a beat the moment your mouth lands on his. His lips feel sore and there’s an ache when he presses his mouth against you but it doesn’t stop him from trying to deepen the kiss. His soft, uncalloused hands grip at your sides and he can’t help himself from kneading at the extra flesh; fully enjoying how soft and warm your skin feels. There’s a pleasant buzz in his head when he feels you bury your hands in his hair and he moans your name against your lips. You forget to breathe for second when you hear it. The urge to dote on him will always be second nature to you but you won’t let it distract you from putting him in his place tonight. A twinge of excitement shoots up your spine at the idea of denying him. You feel his arms try to pull you closer to him and you don’t comply, you yank his head back roughly by his hair. He groans, disappointment overshadows any pain, but there’s nothing but lust in his eyes when he looks up at you.
“The least I could do is let a twitchy freak like you get off next me.” There’s a venomous tint to your voice. Roman takes in a sharp breath when you peer down at his lap and see his pretty cock twitch up at you. He’s never felt this strained, reeling with a need to feel your walls clench around him. You grin. “Those hands of yours have never done anything useful before. I don't think you deserve to use them tonight. You were doing just fine on my knee earlier.”
“You’re fucking with me.”
“ I’m not fucking you at all, actually.” You smile as you let go of his hair and take his hand into yours. You lift it to your face and kiss his inner wrist. Your eyes gleam warmly at him before placing his hand on your thigh for him to hold on to. Your walls clench around nothing when his fingers graze your inner thigh and part of you hopes that all of this goads him into fingerfucking you till you squirm. His expression is muddled with confusion and annoyance but there’s no trace left of that nervous tension he had. He follows your lead and brings his other hand to rest on your thigh. He scoots a little closer to you and there's a glint of something, maybe gratefulness, in his eyes when he looks up at you. Some starved part of you found it sweet, oddly romantic. His hips stay still but his cock twitches against your thigh and the sight makes your mouth water, you want him badly and it’s all his fault.
“Here, I’ll make it easier for you.” You use the saliva that’s pooled in your mouth to spit onto your thigh, you grin when some of it dribbles onto his shiny, pink tip. It’s warm when it touches him and Roman’s hands dig into your thigh as he groans, picturing your pretty mouth wrapped around him, drool peeking out the corners of your lips and over his shaft. It was something he had pictured a few times, but tonight was the first time that the visual wasn’t accompanied by a guilty churning in his stomach. He can’t stop himself from taking up your generous offer, he’ll happily take your scraps, and his hips begin rocking back and forth. You chuckle softly and tilt his face up at you, he can feel his heartbeat quicken. The skin of the back of his neck bursts with goosebumps when he sees the smug look on your face.
“This is really what you want??” He does the best he can to sound irritated. To be fair, he was a little upset at not being able to touch you more, but your coldness has gotten him harder than he could’ve imagined.
“It is, I wanna see you get what you deserve.”
"I always knew you were dirty.” A toothy bastard grin grows when he speaks. He’s enjoying this, a runt acting out.
“I’m easy, too. I’d let practically anyone fuck me. Just not you.” You smile lovingly despite the vulgar joke, playing with his hair. You laugh when you see his face shrivel in disgust. It was a bold faced lie, one you knew he wouldn’t fully believe. Either way you knew it was prickly enough to stroke that mean streak in him, the one that leaves you feeling a little cheap and a little wet.
“Gross fucking slut.” He mutters it under his breath like a toothless quip but it bites you just the same. You yank his head back harshly and a bitchy whine slips out of him.
“You don’t get to say that to me. Not when you’re humping my leg like a fucking dog.” Roman teases a talent for cruelness out of you that you’ve never really considered before, never really explored.
There’s a dissonance in you that winds up tight in your stomach as you consider your next steps. You could get up and lock yourself in your room till he leaves to avoid saying any more hurtful things. Or you could cry a little in front of him and ask him to forgive you for being so mean; let the guilt take hold and be ashamed of enjoying ripping into each other in this way. Either one ends with Roman potentially never speaking to you again, and that’s what scares you more than anything else.
Unknown to you, the ire in your eyes would’ve been enough to make his dick rock hard had he not been already. There’s no doubt that he’s always liked the kind and bright person you normally are but seeing you mad made him go beet red, he could feel his blood run hot .
“It’s not my fault that you want it like a bitch in heat. ” There he goes again, the little shit loves talking back. Your doubts fall away. There’s a glint in his eyes and his little fangs peek out when he gives you a lovesick grin. It makes you drip. He wants you to sink your teeth into him. You grin back, your hands still grip tightly at his hair, you move your knee to press to his groin. He whimpers and it feels like someone’s set you ablaze; the sound shoots around your skull and lights up every nerve in you.
“I’m sorry. Does it hurt?” An overly saccharine tone coats your voice as you speak down to him. A long heady whine comes out of him so freely, he’s always been willing to fill up a room with noise so it shouldn’t really surprise you but it does. Roman’s expressions were enthusiastic, even the pained ones. He nods his head fervently, his brows strung together in discomfort but eyes cloudy with arousal. His lips pout and part as if to speak but a pitiful croak is all that leaves his throat when you nudge your knee, gliding it gently along the underside of his cock.
“Do you want to cum?” You speak quietly next to his ear and a rush of heat rolls over him. The sweet tone you had is gone, all that’s left is the cold firmness that was underneath. He squirms under you, scared he’s gonna burst and a little curious about what you’d treat him like if he did. How badly would you grill him if you knew how starved you made him.
“Y-yes….” He sounds breathless. You move away from his ear to look at him again. one of your hands still grips at his hair tightly while the other slides forward to gently grip his chin.
“Then I need you to play nice .” You dig your knee in harder, crushing his balls in the most careful way you could. Rather than move away from the source of the pain, he leans forward closer to you. His hands still grip at your thigh, practically pulling you in as if determined to feel whatever touch you give him. A long pitchy cry comes from his chest. He makes such pretty sounds and you’re filled with a deep need to hear each one he can make. “Can you do that for me, Romey?”
“Yeah…. Yes. . . I’m sorry, I’ll be nice.” He sounds so gentle, so weak for you, this can’t possibly be the same man who’s made your life a living hell 14 hours a day for the last year. Your memory might be stunted while in your aroused haze, but you think this might be the first time you’ve ever heard him say sorry. His wide eyes blink slowly at you, his long lashes fanning whatever flame he lit in you. Another small twitch of his cock against your leg reminds you of your own needs and you decide to give in a little.
“Good. I’ll be nice too. . .” You pull your leg away slightly to grant him some relief, but his hips press back into you reflexively. There’s a glimpse of hunger in Roman’s eyes and he feels a deep need to do anything for you, anything to keep you looking at him. Your voice softens again, slightly smug around the edges. “Did you still want that show?”
He nods shyly, his eyes widen further in curiosity when your hand slides off his face and moves to touch your own body. He holds his breath when he sees you lightly touch yourself over your panties. Your pointer and middle fingers slowly drag across your outer lips and then dip slightly between your folds. You sigh when you brush against the hood of your clit, you’ve staved off touching yourself for this long and each touch feels like sweet relief. Roman’s eyes are fixed onto you when you tilt your head back, you bite your lower lip in concentration as you rub circles over your sensitive bud. Your pooled arousal comes much more apparent as you keep touching yourself, your wetness leaves a stain in the middle of your blue panties and Roman thinks to himself that that dark blue might now be his favorite color. He groans when he watches your hand slip under your panties, wondering how warm you must feel. You shiver when you tentatively dip your fingers in your wet center. A soft moan slips out when you feel yourself slide in so easily, grateful that he can’t feel how slick he’s made you already. You groan Roman’s name softly as you work at yourself and a whirl of lust and jealousy slices through him. He didn’t think he’d ever get to hear you say his name like that before and it kills him that it’s nothing of his that’s buried in you now, helping your mouth form the letters so smoothly. He keeps his hands on your thigh, minding your instruction, but he can’t really help himself from touching you in some way, not now when you sound so good that it makes him wish he had shut up. He leans into you, testing the waters by peppering kisses across your shoulder. His stomach lurches when he feels you tense under him and he thinks he’s ruined something for a moment till your free hand ghosts its nails gently across his scalp and he feels his brain liquefy just a bit.
It’s all the encouragement he needs to latch back onto you; his hips press down, humping your leg shamelessly. You breathe in deep when you feel his teeth nip at the end of your throat. He smells so good to you, a mix of cigarettes and sweat and a cologne that’s just as obnoxious and overwhelming as him. You can’t help but moan his name again, spreading your cunt with your fingers, desperately mimicking the way he might stretch you. He mumbles a barely recognizable “ Yeah ?” against your skin in response, his thumb stroking softly along your inner thigh all the while. You roll over for him so easily. You don't say anything as you slip your hand out of your panties to hold his and guide it to where you want it most. He holds his breath when his hand digs under the soft cotton hiding your wet center. His soft, manicured hand trembles slightly against you, unsure where to go till your hand leads him. A thrill runs up his spine when he glides his fingers between your slick folds and feels just how soaked you are. He teases you, not necessarily intending to do so but so invested in knowing how all of you feels that he ignores the crucial bundle of nerves aching for him. It makes you want to scream. His fingers stroke up and down along your opening, and you try to choke down a whine when he finally presses into you. Heat rushes to your face as you both hear the wet squelch of your tight walls, he groans at the way your hungry cunt swallows his fingers whole. He finds himself wishing he’ll have another chance to have you, not ready to accept a possibility of him never feeling you around him. Both the physical and emotional grip you have on him feels insane as you clench over him, your free hand digs its nails into the skin of his back. Your leg moves in tandem with his hips, helping his heavy cock garner friction and it leaves him feeling worse. Needy for more and muttering soft nonsensical nothings under his breath, he feels a flicker of shame and wishes he could do more for you. You nip at a spot below his ear and he doesn’t bother biting down the moan of your name that surfaces. He’s begging any thing that will listen to let him keep you, he needs to know he’ll feel the creaminess of your thighs and tight cunt again. You pull him off of your collarbone to look at him again, he thinks he feels himself throb when he sees the flush on your cheeks and nose, the swell of your reddened lips. You cup his face softly and he slows his mindless rutting against your leg. Your thumb brushes his cheek lightly as you smile at him, no hint of cruelty to be found.
“Look at you being so quiet.” There’s a teasing slant to your voice but it’s overshadowed by a warm love-drunk drawl. A giggle slips out of you as you continue and it rings on inside Roman’s head. “Are you feeling good?”
“Yeah…” He leans his face into your hand and nods softly, fully melted into your touch. The light brown of his eyes shimmer while he looks at you, a shy smile on his face makes him look a little angelic. Maybe it was a mix of that and his soft voice that had you fooled into thinking he was so sweet. He looks ready to burst, he practically confirms that thought of yours as he mumbles. “ ’m getting close…”
You bring him in for a gentle kiss, thinking he’s had enough cruelty for tonight. His lips land against yours softly, the hunger for you is still there but he tries to reel it in. He wants everything from you but he doesn’t want to risk being greedy. He needs to give you a reason to let him be with you again, the concept of someone liking and caring for him feels so foreign that he’s still thinking of it transactionally. He needs to feel you cum or he might not ever be able to face you ever again. His fingers curl up towards that sweet spot of yours and slowly pump in and out of you, pulling a moan out of you that he uses as a chance to snake his tongue into your mouth, desire burning hot to taste more of you. A strand of saliva connects you both as you pull away to catch your breath, his face follows yours slightly as if unwilling to part. His thumb presses down and swirls circles around your swollen little clit, it’s sloppy but it manages to rile you up just the same. Your soft sighs help boost his ego which took quite a bruising tonight and he smiles against your lips when he feels you snake your hands into his hair. The glowing sense of pride returns when he hears your breathing grow staggered. Your walls clamp down around his fingers in an almost sinful way and he feels his cock twitch against your skin, hoping for the chance to have you milk him dry. He groans your name against your neck, strumming at you with a vigor that leaves the corners of your vision a little blurry. Being touched by Roman is different than you had thought it’d be, you always thought he’d be lazy– selfish maybe, but he feels like the opposite. He grips you like he wants you, really wants you, his fingers pushing and spreading in you eagerly. He’s a little clumsy, so eager to touch you that the broad strokes of his thumb over your clit feel like an effective little tease. He’s not clueless though, it's clear that he’s listening intently to your breathing and the way your folds squelch around him. The once dead air of your living room now filled with steady moans and sloppy wet touches. You feel that the coil of heat near your center winds up tightly, set to release at any moment. Roman’s own moans sound distant to you and you barely register his hips rocking against your bare thigh. You can feel yourself getting fucked stupid, unable to form any meaningful words. Any brain cells you had left at this time of night are now just honey-thick liquid arousal smeared between your thighs and down Roman’s palm. You feel him sink his teeth into your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark and at the same time he twists his fingers into you so sweetly, pressing deep into that spot that leaves you drooling and the last thread in you snaps. Your legs start to shake and that white hot feeling rolls over you, leaving you struggling not to crush his hand. Roman pumps his fingers in and out slowly, helping you ride out the wave of pleasure as your walls clench and spasm around him. You tilt your head back and catch your breath, you can’t do much but watch as he licks your creamy slick off his hand. You curse quietly under your breath as you see him moan and suck noisily at his fingers, his softened eyes lock back onto yours and you feel like your cunt might have you start begging for more. There’s no space for that as his mouth crashes back on yours again.
“You taste good.” He mutters the compliment against your neck, back to his frenzy of kisses which earn a fit of giggles from you.
“. . . yeah?” You chirp sweetly. A blush is clear on your face.
“Yeah. Shoulda told me sooner.” He mumbles more along the edge of your jaw, he pulls away a bit to look at your face as he continues. “Might’ve given you your own office if I knew you tasted like a pink starburst.”
You snort. You know it’s a joke with the way Roman says it so confidently but part of you wonders whether he’s ever actually had a starburst before. Or even eaten pussy before.
“You’re gross.” You say it as a joke. You hope it lands, serving as another way to tell him just how much you like him. He smiles wide enough for the corners of his eyes to crinkle.
Holding his face in both hands you bring him in for another kiss, each one feels like he’s trying to make up for lost time. You lean into him, your body weak in the post orgasmic rush. His shoulders press back into the soft cushion of your couch and he pulls you down, fully into his lap, your arm brushes past his hard length and he lets out a soft pained moan. You freeze and look at his groin. Poor, sweet Roman had kept to his word and not touched himself this entire time, and now here you were facing the sensitive flushed thing that a small part of you actually believed might fall off. He looked almost sheepish when he met your gaze, it was like he froze once the spotlight was back on him.
“Oh, Rome. . .” You lean in and pepper kisses across his face, it makes him laugh. The air in his lungs doesn’t feel so heavy. You kiss the tip of his nose and his face scrunches in mock distaste.
“I can help you if you want.” You murmur it close to his face, forehead resting against his. Your thigh feels the air grow chill against the large sticky wet spot on your skin, a mix of your spit and Roman’s precum.
“Please.” The way Roman wraps around that word, it was meant for him.
You press a kiss to his forehead and slip off his lap to adjust yourself on the couch. You give him a soft smile and pat the space between your legs to have him saddle up into you like a little spoon. He raises an eyebrow quizzically for a moment but doesn’t hesitate to settle in, eager to be in your arms. You lean against the arm of the couch for support as his back presses against your bare chest, your legs on either side of him. You rest your hands on his thighs and brush your lips against his shoulder, that fondness you have for him comes back when you feel his back arch slightly in reaction to you.
“This ok?” You keep your voice soft, nonjudgmental. You take hold of one of his hands and he’s suddenly grateful his back is to you, his eyes feeling watery.
“Yeah.” He gives your hand a squeeze, a silent request to keep it there. “Thanks.”
You smile and lift your free hand up your mouth to spit into it then hold it below his mouth, he spits as well. A cute little whimper comes out of him when you wrap your hand around his shaft and you hum approvingly in response. Roman does his best to keep his hips still, trying not to buck roughly into your palm. He’s still a little embarrassed by the idea of you seeing him undone even if he also finds it exciting. But regardless of how he feels about it, he fails to hold back a long string of moans the moment your teeth graze the back of his neck. Whatever cold, macho ideals were drilled into his mind at early development, it all falls apart when he’s around you and he’s so happy that you don’t seem to mind in the slightest, you don’t see what he believes to be shortcomings. He lifts the hand of yours that he’s still holding on to and kisses the back of it. He staggers out a groan of your name into it too when he watches your thumb circle around the shiny wet tip of his cock. He knows this isn’t going to last, he’s too sensitive, but he tries to focus whatever parts of his brain that can into fully enjoying this. You make it an easy task. Your hand on him feels good: it’s soft and warm and you squeeze him nicely while you tug him off. He feels that familiar pressure build up faster than he expected, his blood runs hot behind his ears and he can’t quite fully hear the lewd wet slaps that come as his hips jerk up to meet your hand. He feels your thighs squeeze around his torso and your hand grips tight on him and when he feels your hot breath on his back it’s enough to fully pull him into something that feels safe and warm. The sight before you makes you want to devour him whole. You try to commit all of this to memory. The way his weight presses into you as his body melts under you. The soft whisper of your name as you lightly drag a nail across his balls. You admire the veins along his length and take in a sharp breath when you feel him throb against your palm. His sticky head twitches desperately as you pull back his foreskin and his hips writhe beneath you. One last, long, crying moan ripples out as his hips rut into your hand and he feels that hot flash of pleasure take him. You run your hand along his length slowly, coaxing him down from the high, his release spills over your hand and his lower stomach, which rises and falls with heavy breaths. You wish you could see what he looked like right now: pupils blown and tear dotted lashes, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. But more than anything you want him to feel comfortable around you, if you only get to hold him while he makes such pretty sounds then that’s enough for you. He mewls a little at your touch, now overly sensitive and reaches for your hand to lick up his release. You groan his name softly at the feeling of his wet tongue wrapping between your fingers, sucking them clean. He pulls them out with an unceremonious pop! of his lips and he smiles softly when he feels your teeth pull into a grin against the back of his neck. You lower your hand to his stomach and wipe up the last few drops of his cum. He holds your wrist gently as you raise it, thinking you’ll bring it to his mouth.
“Wait.” You speak softly, your breath tickling him just behind the ear. He twists a little to face you better, slightly confused. Did you want a better view of him eating his own spunk? You chuckle a little at the way his face morphs in bewilderment and press a small kiss to his temple, a little salty with sweat, and mumble against it. “I wanna taste you.”
His grip on your wrist goes slack, a slightly anxious drumming starts in his chest. He stares at you as he watches you lick up the rest of his mess off of your fingers, waiting for the warm bubble he’s found himself in to burst. He tasted mild and inoffensive but it was Roman’s and that fact alone made it slide down your throat like honey. You swallow and lick your lips in silent appreciation, his brows raise at you in a weird form of anticipation.
“Like a cream soda.” You can’t bring yourself to say that with a straight face, cracking into a grin as you look at him. His skill for being disgusting has not yet fully rubbed off on you. He giggles.
“You’re sick.” He replies, twisting his body fully to better face you and bring you into a deep kiss. One that leaves you with that old fuzzy feeling from your chest to your tummy. You find yourself wrapping around him like a plant, he folds into your embrace easily. His eyes shimmer when he pulls away and looks at you.
“I like you.” You blink, thinking you misheard him for a moment till his eyes narrow impatiently, like he expects you to say it back. It feels silly, the first time you said it you never expected him to say it back and here he was now, prompting it from you like a conductor’s cue to a symphony.
“I like you too.” You share a smile, and he rests his head on you, nuzzling into your chest, exhausted from the swirl of emotions you’ve put him through tonight. Your hand finds its way back to his hair, and he quietly hopes you never get tired of playing with it.
He feels you wriggling around a bit beneath him, reaching for something but he doesn’t bother lifting his head off your chest. His ears are met with the sound of sloshing and plastic crinkling and his brow dips in confusion but he stays still. He’s made you his bed to lie in and his arms are already wrapped around your waist snugly, stubborn with his drowsy affection. Suddenly, he feels something smooth and cold press to his cheek over his bandaged wound. He opens his eyes and tilts his head to see that you had brought an ice pack. He thinks that one day you’ll be the reason his blood sugar will spike and kill him.
“Thanks.” He mumbles it quietly but you’re pressed close enough to hear it clearly.
“Anytime.” You ruffle his hair as you speak. “Hopefully, your face isn’t so fucked the next time you come and see me.”
He hears you say the words “next time” and he immediately feels a hopeful buzzing in his ears.
“Yeah. . ." He smiles softly. ". . . You should try waterboarding me with that wet cunt of yours. . . next time, I mean.” He tacks on the last bit in hopes that you’re on the same page. That this isn’t his last chance to be intimate with you. He wants to try being with you in general.
“I’d like that….” You start giggling, you hate to admit that you think he’s funny. He hears the smile in your voice as you rest your head back against the cushions. Exhaustion creeps in on you both.
A sun ray somehow manages to find you both in the dark of the night, you both feel warm and tired in its light.
---
Translations (These are not all direct word for word translations. Just what I think sounds better):
1. Come on, cuz….. please?? He’s my friend.
2. You know you can tell me anything, right?
3. Is he your boyfriend?
4. I don’t think he knows that. He keeps looking at you.
5. I’m the only thing in this damn room that he recognizes. No shit, he’s staring. I’m not an idiot.
6. I don’t give a shit, then. Tell him it’s gonna be $60. Family discount.
#roman roy#succession#roman roy x reader#roman roy succession#roman roy smut#succession hbo#succession x reader#succession fanfic#succession smut#dogmotif! roman my beloved#roman roy x f!reader
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I don't think authors or book sellers or even reviewers using fanfic/trope keywords like "Enemies to lovers" is bad
Because honestly? It's not new either
1. It's been a staple bit of marketing in Romance for decades ("Bodice Rippers"? Hello!?)
2. It's not that far off of where genre marketing was in the 90s and 2000s "Its another one of those Sword and Sorcery books"
3. People have always gravitated towards and recommended books based on story elements that they really like that don't necessarily tell you anything about the plot
"This book has time travel!" Was one of mine for a long time. I'm still going to read any old trash if there is even a whiff of time travel! And I will be excited and bring it up while recommending it even if it's not relevant to the plot or tell you anything about the genre of story
I am not alone about this!
"This one has vampires!" - vampire friend recommendation
"this one has cool battles!" - friend who likes battles
"this one is really funny!" - friend who likes comedy
I have rarely had anyone start a pitch with the plot ever in my whole life. They start with what they find fun or exciting
Then they will talk about the plot
Online you have less time and also it's an good short hand to get people's attention based on what story elements they love
We just have a lot more specific phrasing thanks to fanfic that helps them quick fire these things
An author or publisher using fanfic/trope style tags to promote their work are not failing by not leading with a plot synopsis. They are doing the equivalent of shouting their goods in the marketplace to attract customers
If someone came to me and said 'Hey, I think you might like this story. It's about time travelling bisexual robots" then I want to ask more questions and look it up and see the genre and plot summary
That two second sell is enough to get me intrigued which is the entire point and if I look at it more and see its say, horror, i might go "ah dang, not for me."
Which is fine
But I might go "hmmm I don't normally like horror but I do like time travel and bisexual robots" and give it a try. And I might not enjoy it but I am making an informed choice
Also with authors especially if you scroll down a little more or click the read more or spend longer than 2 seconds on the video they usually tell you more about the book
And if all you are getting is the literary equivalent of "Fish! Fresh Fish!' And NOTHING else
Maybe that's a reflection of where you are on the internet because where I am if I stop I hear about what kind of fish they have and how long ago they were caught and loads about how it was caught - you get what I mean?
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A Quaint House With a White-Picket Fence (G/T Homelander x Reader)
1139 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.
You teach Homelander about Animal Crossing.
With a rare day off, you decided to spend your afternoon doing something you haven't been able to for a while, play Animal Crossing. Homelander has never played a video game before, and he has made it perfectly clear to you that he has zero interest in doing so. He is also not shy at showing his jealousy at how engrossed you get playing your silly games instead of paying attention to him. As a result, you usually only play for short periods of time when you're alone.
Today was different. You have been doing nothing all day except play Animal Crossing, just like you used to do before moving into the Tower. You don't even hear him storming into the penthouse, in one of his signature grumpy moods. Grumbling irritatedly seeing you lounging on the couch, he can't believe you aren't acknowledging him and inviting him over for a cuddle like you always do. It's not like he's easy to miss.
Homelander walks over in front of the couch, attempting to make a point with his purposefully loud footsteps. And yet, you still don't even look up as he looms over you. Rolling his eyes, he places his hands on his hips as he taps his fingers on his belt. He can feel his anger bubbling to the surface, with the annoying little beeps and boops coming from the game only serving to aggravate him further.
Finally, he's had enough at watching you ignore him. With a motion so fast you barely even register what is happening, he picks you up so he can lie down on the couch, keeping you on top of him. His arms are wrapped immovably around your waist while his big head is snuggled firmly on your shoulder. He lets out a deep huff from his nose, making certain that you know how exasperated you've made him.
You stay there for a moment of tense silence, waiting for him to say something first. You feel bad for not even noticing him, but you want to see where he is mentally before you make a move.
"What is this?" he eventually asks you, contempt dripping from his voice. If you won't stop playing this dumb thing, he may as well learn what it is.
"Animal Crossing," you tell him, laughing as you practically feel him rolling his eyes. Ah, he's in one of these moods.
"It's a game where you get to play in this cute village and just do whatever," you try to clarify. "You can fish, catch bugs, decorate your house, and make friends with your neighbours. It's relaxing."
"…Why?" he retorts. He is baffled at how doing things in this game that you could do in real-life would have you so fixated.
"I dunno, it's hard to explain," you respond. "There's no stress in this world, no time-limits or deadlines. It's like… an escape."
Homelander is hushed as he contemplates your answer. The appeal still doesn't make a lot of sense to him.
"What… are you playing as?" he enquires, brow furrowing slightly. Your tiny avatar appears to be a boy with slicked-back blonde hair, wearing a blue shirt with an eagle design.
"I tried making you," you answer honestly, with a brief giggle. You click a mysterious button on your gaming device, and suddenly this character is smiling wide back at him.
"You… made me?" he ponders, rubbing his head into the nape of your neck.
"Yeah, I normally just make myself but… I wanted to see how you'd look too," you smile, returning his nuzzle. "You turned out cute, right?"
He sighs, not dignifying you with a response. This facsimile is nowhere near his level of perfection, but at least you tried.
"What's that noise?" he mumbles. "It sounds like a bug."
"What direction is it coming from?" you respond. "It might be a mole cricket, I haven't caught one of those yet."
"To the left," he guides you, using his super hearing to easily discern the origin of the bug's droning call. "Under that rock."
Homelander watches as you pull out your shovel and hit the rock, causing a cricket to pop out which you swiftly catch with your net.
"Look at that! We caught a mole cricket!" you exclaim.
"…Now what?" he queries. He doesn't understand why you seem to excited over this, it's just a disgusting, insignificant insect.
"Now we take it to the museum, so Blathers can put it on display," you reply.
"And what, we get a reward for it?" he asks.
"No, it's just for fun!" you attempt to explain. "We can get a golden net if we catch all the different kinds of bugs though!"
Once again, he feels flabbergasted by your reasonings. This is just one of those weird human things of yours that he figures he will never understand, no matter how many questions he asks.
Homelander decides to stay quiet for a while, simply observing as you go about your activities. Seeing you run around this confined space, pointlessly catching more bugs and fish. Listening to you tell him which animal villagers are your favourites, showing him your house and how you decorated every room.
Strangely, the longer he watches you play, the more relaxed he starts to feel. It's weird, seeing your miniature caricature of him running around this fake town. He's just spending his days trapped in this virtual world, living in a quaint house with a white-picket fence, surrounded by friendly neighbours… without anybody staring at him like he's a freak… without a care in the world.
He's living the life Homelander always wished he could.
"Do you think we could ever live in a place like this?" he contemplates in a somber voice. The genuineness of his thought takes you by surprise.
To be honest, you don't have an answer for him. Vought has such a tight grip on every aspect of his life, you aren't sure if he'll ever be able to be free of their influence. He's never known what it's like to be 'normal', his entire existence has been dictated for him, his every opinion pre-calculated for what's best for the company.
"Hey, why don't we spend the weekend at your cabin?" you suggest, trying to pivot the heavy conversation away to something more tangible. You put your game down to caress his cheek, feeling him angle his head into your touch. "Just the two of us, no schedules or worries."
You can feel a little smile spread across your shoulder at your proposal. Homelander tightens his hold on you ever so slightly, cherishing the feeling of your small stature in his arms. He's glad you aren't able to see his face right now, letting him hide the fact that he's blinking away forming tears.
"Yeah," he whispers. "I'd like that".
#the boys#the boys tv#homelander#homelander x reader#g/t#size difference#my writing#animal crossing wild world was my shit as a kid
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note: a yandere butcher has been on my mind but idk if i executed it properly though but anyways enjoyy
summery: you recently got hired at a meat shop seems harmless right?
cw: dead bodies, violence, cannibalism, you get threatened, blood, knives and implied murder just dark stuff in general so if you can't handle those stuff pls don't read <3
You recently got hired from a meat shop, and the owner was nice enough to give it to you without any background checks or anything. Maybe a bit concerning, but the paycheck shuts your mouth immediately, that much money for such a little amount of work was almost non-existent anywhere. Sure, the job can be a bit gross and gory at times, but who are you to complain? After all, everything was going smoothly until one of your colleagues told you to get them some meat from the basement. You picked up a bag and headed up the stairs before missing a step and dropping it all on the floor. You picked up the contents, but with further inspection, you noticed something... A HUMAN HAND!? You took a step back and started gagging, taking in the realization that all the meat you’ve seen sold has been human all along. “W-what the fuck is this place?” Your whole body was shaking, and your stomach was churning in all the wrong ways. The urge to puke was unbearable. Then the door clicked, and footsteps followed. Your blood ran cold. "Hey, what took you so long—?” The guy pauses, analyzing the situation before speaking. “Found out, huh?” he rummaged through the bag before pulling something out. A head. He hands it to you almost like he's handing you a present; you jerk back in response. “Y-your insane!” You look at the head, taking a closer look before recognizing it immediately. “Remember him?” The guy smiles almost taunting you. “That pig always had his grimy hands on you, now he's dealt with like one.” He grabbed other bags before dropping them as well, exposing more bodies. “All of them did,” you backed away even more, being hysterical and not being able to process this information. They were all friends or past partners, some were even family. “You made our customers eat them!?” he says almost instinctively, “those dirty pigs deserved to be eaten by those pathetic beings we call customers.” He walks up forward you, almost cornering you before whispering in your ear, “They seemed to like it too, no? We are the best meat shop in town after all.” You felt conflicted, he wasn’t lying. Customers complimented the meat all the time, and it was definitely the best in town, but that just made everything feel even worse. Your eyes just started to burn in tears. You didn’t know what to do... What were you supposed to do? Now you were just sobbing with this cannibal murder comforting you, it was gross. His blooded gloves holding you close, making your clothes damp, the potent smell of meat and sweat, his whispers of affirmations. All of it was disgusting because you could feel the blade pressed against your back.
#୧ ‧₊˚ ᴍᴀɴɢᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇꜱ ⋅ 🦴#ᴅᴇʀʀɪᴄᴋ; the butcher⋅ 🥩#butcher yandere#yandere x reader#yandere male x reader#gn! reader#yandere concept#yandere x darling#cannibal yandere
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Just Luci Brainrot :)
(GN!MC)
Just imagining you (MC) sitting on Lucifer's desk in beautiful lingerie as an "apology" after you make him do something stupid with your pact, and Lucifer flat-out ignores you. Or, I should say, he pretends to ignore you, and he does a good job doing it.
Internally, however, the sight of you in that skimpy underwear that highlights every lovely part of you is driving him to borderline madness. Man is edging himself just to keep up the appearance that he's annoyed. Really, he wants to take off that underwear in his teeth, take those luscious thighs in his hands and make you scream your pretty little head off.
And yet, all he does is take a paper out from under your ass and starts working like his brain isn't conjuring all kinds of things he could do to you right in that second.
Of course, you're annoyed that he doesn't even seem to care that you've gone to such a length to say you're sorry for embarrassing him, so you decide to slide down onto his lap instead.
"Lucifer," you say. "I'm rea---"
"Do you mind?" Lucifer cuts you off sharply, giving you his most irritated glare. You're really testing his self-control now. God, how he wants to just take two handfuls of that barely-clothed ass and sit you on top of the friend that was currently struggling to not make itself known. "I have a lot of work to do."
You pout.
"Can't you put me on your to-do list? I said I was sorry earlier, Luci."
"Don't call me that," he retorts. "You can wait."
You might have been able to, but he certainly can't, as much as he's denying that fact.
Which is why, when you rub against him a little bit, you're already roughly bent over his desk, his fingers teasing underneath the pathetic fabric on your hips.
"You... really love testing my patience, don't you?" Lucifer growls, and you gasp. What a lovely sound. He'll be getting plenty more of those out of you. "You should know that an apology isn't anywhere near enough to make me feel better... I need to know you won't do it again."
Lucifer's gloved hands sink into your thighs as he squeezes, clearly admiring the view he has of you. The view of your dripping sex destroying your underwear, twitching at the thought of what he'll do. And, oh, he's been thinking long and hard about it since he caught sight of your lewd form.
You hear the click of his belt, the rustle of his pants as they drop off his hips. In another moment, the bottom half of your ruined underwear is ripped to shreds, and his throbbing cock is deep inside you. He takes the time to lean his body over yours, lightly pulling your hair at the root, forcing you to arch your back a little as he whispers against your ear:
"I'm not letting you off easy this time."
#I have consumed far too much smut today#this is just a tame little byproduct#obey me lucifer#obey me shall we date#fanfiction#obey me!#shameless self indulgence#obey me lucifer smut#lucifer x mc#lucifer brainrot#dom lucifer brainrot
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Rodimus giving birth painfully at the worst time possible and with no help whatsoever.
Its in the middle of battle and he’s in too much pain to move, his tank is painfully stiff and swollen and he’s in so much pain but his fluids haven’t even broken yet and there is so much pressure all he can do is vent heavy and huddle under the shelter hoping the wrong bot doesn’t find him.
Best part about it?
He wasn’t even in this battle.
He was on a civi huddle trying to get to safety because he left after finding out he was sparked.
Sires?
Deadlock and Ratchet who don’t even know.
He’s literally got the worst luck because bombs are falling and soldiers are offlining and bullets are flying in the space he’s in and crawling only did so much his tanks are too heavy on his frame and half his spoilers been blown off while the other half is leaking energon hanging by a thread.
This mech is in serious trouble because he feels his sparklings moving and its making everything worse and the siren for clearing the battlefield sounds and he knows he’s really fragged because that means they send out a large bomb and what do they do?
Drop the largest bomb that caves in his shelter and guess who just so happened to fall in protecting each other?
Deadlock and Ratchet who have no idea he’s behind them as they check each other over and talk quietly so relieved they survived as they mention it’ll take at least two days to remove the rubble so they can escape.
And guess whose frame wracks with pain as their sparkling readjusts and kicks them too hard and makes him fail at stifling an agonized scream thats muffled from him biting into his arm?
Deadlock and Ratchet have the most distressed, out of frame mind zapping shock of their life cycles seeing Rodimus like that.
Your thoughts/the rest?
Ooh poor Rodimus (Hot Rod?)... but he was lucky that a bickering Deadlock and Ratchet ended up in the rubble with him. For a moment they’re too busy fighting and pointing out whose fault it was that they ended up here and how long it’s gonna take them to get out thar they don’t notice that there’s someone still alive in the mess. Hot Rod squealing out as his forge clenches alerts them to his presence very quickly…
When they realize it’s Hot Rod, their shared… friend, they rush to him and no matter how hard he tries to hide his pregnant belly from them, his water finally breaking tips them off. I don’t think they realize they’re the sires at first, but when Ratchet scolds him for not coming to him when he got sparked and Hot Rod tells him he didn’t want to hang a sparkling on his shoulders it clicks.
Deadlock is more stunted. Ratchet knows what to do, but Deadlock does not. I think he only jumps to action once Ratchet orders him to help him get Hot Rod out of the rubble and onto a more comfortable surface. Hot Rod was very lucky to have been found by them. Ratchet can patch him up and help coach him through the birth. He can already see that Roddy’s been straining himself, forcing himself to push when he does not need to. Thankfully his water finally broke and it’s gonna be significantly easier from now… Hot Rod clings to Deadlock as Ratchet helps him coax out the sparkling, scolding him for not telling them, for keeping this to himself, for trying to move through an active war-zone when he knew he’s that far along. Because of all the stress and the fighting still going on outside, Hot Rod has a very hard time giving birth, but at least he can scream into Deadlock’s chest this time around <3
if it’s going to take at least a couple days to clear out the rubble they know they’re in hot water. Hot Rod’s sparkling comes out alive but barely holding on and they don’t have enough fuel for the four of them… Everyone has to pitch in to keep the little one fed, which slows down the progress. Hot Rod’s injuries and the fact that he’s only recently birthed a sparkling mean they have to drag him out and help him walk across the empty battlefield… Hopefully, they can reconnect with an autobot squadron soon, and as for Deadlock… he’s going to stay with his sparkling for as long as he can, for now.
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Full Kook - Part 1
A Protective/Sweet/Obsessive/Possessive!Rafe&JJ Fanfic
Warnings: Mentions of drugs, Alcohol, Language, SA, Abuse, Sex. Anything I missed Lmk.
Word count: 1765
Summary of Part 1: Introduction of the main three characters, told by the one and only JJ Maybank.
JJ's Pov:
Bella Elizabeth Brooks.
The Princess of Kildare. With a heart of gold and the face of an angel. The girl everyone wants to be or be with. And the only person to disagree with that.. herself.
Bella grew up on The Cut with no mum, a father but no dad, and barely any friends. Despite the idolisation, everyone has always avoided her, and that's for one reason and one reason alone - Thomas Brooks.
The man who created the island's untouchable sweetheart.
There's reasons for it, that only the Pogue's side of the island understand. Whereas, for Figure Eight? Let's just say Tom has a good friend who keeps his status well-worded.
Don't get me wrong, Tom is THE most respected man in the OBX; works for everyone, always knows how to put smiles on their faces, and never has a bad thing to say about anything or anyone.
Well, that all goes out the window when it comes to Bella. I mean who wouldn't throw that all away if they had a daughter like her? But it definitely all changed when the whole fiasco with her mum came out last year. (14 years prior her mum passed. Her dad.. I'll save that for later). But it completely ruined everything for the both of them; everyone stopped wanting Thomas to take their jobs meaning they were losing a lot of money, and Thomas didn't want Bella having anything to do with anyone, as they all started spreading rumours about her, so he pulled her out of school.
Luckily the news only went around The Cut. So, ever since last Summer, Bella and Tom have been working up on the North side, taking jobs from anywhere they can like the Island Club or even just small things like mowing people's lawns. To be fair if I was getting paid that much, l'd do anything for them too. It helps that their family friend is only THE richest man on the island, so it makes surviving that little bit easier.
The Brooks had to start over from rock bottom, again, but they've managed to get themselves back to where they were. Everyone has started to move on from the situation, but now it was Thomas' turn. Which leads me back to why Bella doesn't like her life, despite having almost everything.
Her parents are Kooks, grew up on Figure Eight, best friends with Ward and Mary Cameron (before she left). Tom and Ward were inseparable since the day they met in Middle School, then meeting Mary and Elizabeth (Bella's mum) in High School, as they were cheerleaders for their football games.
However, Thomas suffered with mental illness since he was a little boy, and it slowly grew worse over the years. It meant that taking care of himself was bad enough, so being in a relationship with Eli would be extremely difficult. But, Elizabeth and Ward were what he needed as a distraction from everything else, so he stayed.
Taking us to 17 years ago (7 years later), when Eli found out she was pregnant and began to focus on that instead, something clicked in Tom's head. Almost like flipping a switch. Eli wasn't enough to make his thoughts go away anymore and Ward was now busy with Cameron Development so he turned to alcohol as a last resort. He wanted to move to The Cut to see if starting over would help him to get better but in-fact it did the opposite.
Around when Bella was 2, Eli and Thomas got into a huge argument over his drinking problem and how it was affecting their daughter’s life. One thing led to another and.. (I think you can piece it all together by now.)
The problem was, Tom is the sweetest man to exist, but when he lashes out he's a completely different person, even to himself. Afterwards, he doesn't remember a thing as if it was someone else inside his body. So him and Bella thought nothing of it; ignoring whenever he had an ‘episode’ (what they started to call it as he began to switch up more often and had no recollection of it after).
When Ward found out, he realised how distant he'd been; bailed Tom out and sent him to rehab.
This is where I come in.
At the time, Thomas, Ward, Mike, Bobby, and my dad, Luke, were all friends. They all were aware of Tom's mental health but never knew what happened that night (other than Ward) and they made sure to keep it that way.
Bella stayed with me and my dad for about two weeks before Thomas gave up on rehab. He believed that as long as he had Bella and he stopped drinking, he'd be okay. Ward didn't want to admit it, but he didn't trust Tom with his own daughter, especially when he was still grieving, so all of his friends would be over every night to 'check up on him'; they'd gamble, watch football, spend time with me and Bella (and an occasional Sarah and Rafe if Mary was busy).
Whatever it took to distract Thomas from his own mind.
Bella grew up surrounded by people; as we grew older and went to school, meeting new people was on the top of our list. Because of my dad, I practically lived at the Brooks house, so when Bella and Tom started going to Tannyhill for the weekends, I had to fill in the time. That's when I met John B. Then Kiara, then Pope. Bella, on the other hand, wasn't good at making friends, her dad was very picky with who she could surround herself with so she settled for me, Rafe and Sarah. The people he knew.
Rafe and Sarah began to visit the Brooks with Ward and so, even though I was quite sceptical about the whole ‘Kooks befriending Pogues thing’, I had no choice but to do so. The Camerons are the only reason, me, Bella and Tom have a good life so tolerating them is my way of thanking them.
Sarah ditched Bella for Kiara during High School before ditching Kie aswell (I don't know what happened, don't ask, the look I get when I ask is like I just murdered a whole family of turtles). This led the visitings to stop however, and they only saw each other once a week. The weekend stays were cut to a Friday dinner at most and so Bella and Rafe grew apart.
Bella was left with me and her dad. And then because of the whole information outbreak last year, she lost everything else. Thomas has worked his ass off to give her everything he can and she appreciates every part of it. She always tells him that she'd be happy living in a cardboard box as long as she had me and him, but it never stopped him from trying to give her the world.
But trust me, she meant it.
Anywho. The good news after that shitshow of a trauma dump that doesn't actually belong to me but to my gorgeous best friend, is that because of Bella and her dad working at the Island Club so much, her and Rafe reunited and are now as close as ever.
Gross, gag me..
Joking I can't say that.
He's sat right beside me smoking a J with me whilst Bella's asleep on the other side of the L -shaped couch.
Me. Rafe. Bella.
The ‘Famous Trio’ of Kildare Island. I'm not going into another lecture but let me just say that we are the most well known people in the OBX right now. Rafe's the heartthrob of the Kooks, me? I'm the Pogues equivalent of course, and Bella's the beauty that came from the beast (Her dad, get it? No? Okay..) and we're all somehow friends.
Everyone on the island thinks we’re this weird throuple because of how close we all are to one another but we're actually so far from it.
Okay that was a lie.. to Bella there's absolutely nothing between us. But me and Rafe? GOD we fawn over Bella whenever we get the chance. And what makes it even harder to ignore is the fact that we know it'll never happen.
It's not that we want to sleep with her or anything, it's actually quite the opposite. We love that she likes us outside of that. That's what gets us the most, (other than the way she looks but that's a given), that she cares about us. And even through everything she'd never leave.
Bella Brooks is for life. And me and Rafe are never ever letting her go. That's a promise.
"Hm look.." Rafe lifts his phone to meet my eyes with the proudest grin on his face, a picture of Bella taking up the screen. It was a photo he took of her earlier today at the club whilst she was beating Topper at golf. Rafe taught her and she was quick to learn; he enjoys watching Topper's expressions when he loses to a 'beginner' when in reality she gets private lessons.
I watch the picture, as if it were a video waiting to load. My eyes widen, not being able to fix on only one area.
"Right..?" He chuckles, eyeing the photo himself, tracing every inch of it. Bella bent over, ass hanging out her shorts, and chest slightly exposed over her crop top as her arm is swung to hit the ball. Hair pulled back in a ponytail, held secure in one of Rafe's hats, showing off her whole face.
His eyes glare at me, eyebrows furrowed, now impatiently waiting for a response wondering if he should've shared the photo with me at all. "Send it to me.." I mumble, taking a glance at the Bella laying under a blanket across from us.
I always feel guilty about the way we ogle at her, like some toy we can play with, but we simply just think she's the most beautiful girl we've laid our eyes on. We don’t mean anything by it we just like to let her know.
He laughs passing me the joint, "Knew we were friends for a reason.."
Jealousy doesn't exist between me and Rafe; we know that Bella wouldn't choose between us and she loves us both equally so we have no reason for there to be any tension. Although I can't lie, I do get a little pissed when I see the way he looks at her. Because I know he sees her differently to me, he sees a sparkle somewhere in her that I haven't yet found and he's digging further for it with every interaction. I also know that he has a better chance with her, as me and Bella grew up together, meaning if we ever tried dating it would ruin everything we've worked for.
And Rafe knows that..
Alternative intro to my other one (pinned)
Let me know which you’d prefer to read more of x
Thank you for reading ❤️
#jj maybank#rafe cameron#jj obx#rafe obx#jj outer banks#rafe outer banks#obx#outer banks#drew starkey#jj imagine#rafe imagine#rafe cameron imagine#jj maybank imagine#rudy pankow#oc#rafe x oc#jj x oc#outerbanks rafe#outerbanks jj#rafe fanfiction#jj fanfiction#rafe fic#jj fic
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