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#you can actually see my face for once lmao
snowyquokka · 3 days
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jeongin x fem reader
cw: angst (😈), breakup, kissing, swearing, mutual pining, mentions of cheating, kinda toxic/asshole seungmin (FORGIVE ME), not proof read bc why tf would i do that (im too lazy so my apologies if some of it doesn’t make sense lmfao-)
wc: 3.1k
a.n - so this is not how it was originally supposed to be 😭 it started as a seungmin fic but spiraled into whatever monstrosity this is lmao. everyone thank @solisyeah for the request ily. anywho i hope it’s good <3
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Seungmin furrows his brows as he inspects the photo on his screen. A photo of you with another guy, in his lap with your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck.
Just like you do with Seungmin.
On the very couch he’s sitting on.
At first he thought it was edited, because there’s no way you’d cheat on him, right? But as he took a closer look he just knew it was real.
He was tired, sore, and downright miserable from a rough day at the studio; he had to take way too many breaks for his liking and this picture was just the thing he needed to send him right off the deep end.
He shot up from his spot on the couch so fast it made his head spin, but that didn’t deter him from storming into your bedroom where you were sitting on the bed, aimlessly scrolling through your phone. Once you see his face you can automatically sense something’s wrong.
“Seung?” You tilt your head as you watch him take your apartment key off of his key ring before placing it on your dresser with a clink.
“Seungmin what are you doing?” You jump off of your bed as he slides his shoes on. He runs his fingers through his hair with a frustrated huff.
“I don’t- I think we just need a break. I need a break.” These words were the last thing you imagined to ever come out of his mouth, in this context especially. Or lack there of.
“Wha- why?” Your eyes glaze over with unshed tears that threaten to spill at any given moment. You don’t want to cry in front of him, you’ve always hated having your raw emotions on display like that, especially in such a powerless situation. “Seungmin, talk to me. What the fuck is going on?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. I’m not stupid.” Seungmin shakes his head “Did you really think you could hide it from me?”
“Hide what, Seungmin?”
“You should’ve just fucking left me. Spared my feelings, maybe. But I guess you’re just too selfish for that.”
Without another word he rushes out of the room, leaving you in shambles with nothing else to do but slide to the floor, curl into yourself and let the sobs take over your body.
Seungmin can hear you crying before he even walks out of the front door, causing his heart to clench in his chest and his gut to twist. Standing with his hand just brushing the door handle, he has to physically force himself to press on, to let you go, to accept his reality. The door slams shut behind him and the noise only pushes you further towards the realization that this is actually happening. You aren’t hallucinating, this isn’t some fucked up fever dream or an even more fucked up prank.
You just wish you knew why. No matter how much you try to put the pieces together, you’re always missing something. You can’t think of anything that could’ve set him off. Everything was perfectly normal less than an hour ago, yet all it took was five minutes to trigger the downward spiral of what feels like the end of the world- the end of your world.
-
“What’re you doing back here?” Jeongin slides next to Seungmin - who is still eyeing up the picture on his screen - on the floor. Jeongin nods towards the phone, “What’s that?”
Seungmin huffs and leans his head against the wall behind him, “I honestly don’t fucking know, I don’t even really want to know, actually.”
Jeongin reaches for the phone, pulling it out of Seungmin’s grasp. His lips part in a silent ‘oh’ as he inspects the photo. He’s assuming Seungmin hadn’t even given you a chance to explain solely based on his reaction, in typical Seungmin fashion. Jeongin turns his body to face the other, his face set in an almost disappointed expression.
“I’m going to say this with the utmost respect and I need you to not cause me any bodily harm-” Jeongin sighs before continuing, “You’re a dumbass. Like the dumbest dumbass I think I’ve ever seen. Like paboracha level dumbass. I’m talking-”
“Are you done?” Seungmin groans and squeezes his eyes shut.
“Are you done? God- you just fucked yourself over. If I were you I’d start praying that she’ll still take you back after all this crazy shit.”
“How did I fuck myself oven when she’s the one cheating? Or am I supposed to just forget about that and take the blame for it all like usual? She brought another guy into the same place I spend almost all my time at, and probably fucked hi-” Jeongin slaps his hand over Seungmin’s mouth, effectively silencing him before he could carry on with his bullshit.
“Hyung. Shut up.” The maknae slowly pulls his hand away as Seungmin’s eyebrows shoot upward. “Look I get it, you’re tired, you’re upset, you’re angry bu-”
“Can you fucking blame me? I can’t unsee it. I mean, you see how comfortable she looked with him.” he clenches his fists.
“Will you keep your mouth closed already? You’re killing me here, got a massive migraine now.” Jeongin groans and rubs his temples as he speaks “That picture was taken over a year ago. Before you even knew she existed, hyung. Besides, I know her better than anyone ever will, other than you obviously, which is why I suggest that you get your ass up and go apologize for being such a dumb fuck. Beg for her forgiveness if you gotta. Maybe get on your knees while you’re at it.” he sighs and stands, holding his hand out to Seungmin before pulling him up.
“How do you know she isn’t lying to you? How do you know she isn’t lying about anything else?” Seungmin finally says.
“Because she loves you too much to do that to you. God, have you always been this dense? You seriously need to wake up and realize how stupid you sound.” Jeongin mocks, prompting Seungmin to glare at him one last time before walking out of the studio. All the while unbeknownst to the younger standing with a frown threatening to pull at the corners of his mouth.
“He’s a fucking idiot if he let’s her go over this,” he mutters begrudgingly while he listens to the soft pur of Seungmin’s car in the distance.
-
Almost a week later you’re still waking up with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. The first thing you notice is Seungmin’s apartment key still sitting on the dresser untouched. Well, it used to be his. You were really hoping that it was all just a shitty nightmare and that you’d still be tucked in his side with his soft snores being the only sound to fill the room even though it’s days.
You realize what had stirred you awake as another knock fills the almost suffocating silence. You’re half tempted to just ignore it, but something in your gut tells you to answer it.
“Oh, uhm- hi Innie.” you wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. Or Seungmins hoodie, rather.
God you need to pull yourself together. How could you not even realize what you were wearing. Fuck.
“Hey,” Jeongin rocks back on his heels somewhat awkwardly, “Can I come in?”
You nod and mumble a soft ‘of course‘ as you move out of the way for him to slip past the threshold and into your apartment while you take a moment to collect yourself, and to put on the most convincing smile you can possibly muster.
“What’s up?” you find a spot on the couch next to him as he scans the room for a second, looking for any signs of whether or not Seungmin actually showed.
“He’s not here, is he?” Jeongin turns to you with sympathetic eyes, finding your own longing for comfort, seemingly pleading him for some sort of consolation.
“N-no but he’ll probably be back so-”
“He’s not coming back, y/n. If he was, it would’ve been days ago.”
Before you can open your mouth to protest, Jeongin has you pulled into his strong chest and tucks your head under his chin gently. “It’s okay, baby. I got you.” he sighs, rubbing small and slow circles on your back just the way he knows you like. He places a small, chaste kiss on the top of your head because he’s learned over the years that the action relaxes you and makes you feel secure.
Jeongin knows you like the back of his hand. Sometimes he thinks he knows you better than he knows himself. He knows your favorite food, your favorite season, your favorite movie. He knows how much you love to read, having periodically skimmed your shelves for books you may have and promptly buying you ones that you haven’t already buried your nose in.
Most importantly, he knows exactly what to say in order to subside your bad moods (he’s well seasoned in this field), and that sometimes you say things you don’t mean yet he never - and will never - hold that against you.
He knows just how much you loved Seungmin, not even wanting to imagine the amount of absolute heartbreak you’re feeling. Despite all this, he can’t help but feel somewhat relieved. You and Seungmin undoubtedly wouldn’t have worked in the long run and that’s exactly what you desire and deserve: a stable, long term relationship where you’d be taken care of and treated like the absolute goddess that Jeongin thinks you are.
He just wishes you give him a chance to treat you like his- more so than he already does now.
“Thank you, In,” you mumble into his chest.
“You don’t need thank me, baby. You know I’m always here.”
You did know that, you’ve always known that. Jeongin doesn’t let you doubt how much he cares for you, he’ll spend every waking moment reminding you if he has to.
You pull back slightly to look into his eyes. “I always end up burdening you with my problems.” Jeongin’s eyes soften at your apology and all he wants to do is hug and kiss and cuddle you until he thinks he’s convinced you enough of his adoration.
But for now all he can do is settle for words, though he can’t help but think it won’t be enough.
“Baby, please don’t be sorry for that. What kind of best friend would I be if I never listened to your complaints or rants?” Calling himself your best friend took more out of him than it should have and he tries to hide his hesitation. Thankfully you hadn’t noticed.
Hearing Jeongin say this makes you realize that he’s treated you better than any boyfriend you’ve ever had. Seungmin never reassured you like Jeongin does. Actually, now that you think about it, Seungmin didn’t do half of the things Jeongin does, even if it was the bare minimum.
He’s always like this, but why does it feel different now?
That’s just his personality, right? There isn’t any hidden meaning behind his words or gestures. Or the way he’s holding you and speaking to you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever had contact with. The sudden urge to reach out and cup his face is unreal. You just want to make sure you aren’t hallucinating. You wonder how you managed to find such a perfect person who thinks the world of you just as much as you do them. Someone who loves you just as deeply and truly as you do.
Wait what?
You’ve singlehandedly scared and confused yourself all at once now. Obviously you love him and he does you, but it feels as though you love him in a different way. A special way, one that you don’t think you’ve ever felt for anyone. Not even Seungmin, who you once thought was hands down your soulmate.
What you failed to realize, however, was that your soulmate has been here the whole time, and he’s holding you in his arms like he never wants to let you go.
You cut off your train of thought because he doesn’t want you like that and you’re making assumptions that could get you hurt.
Too late.
Another wave of sadness that has nothing to do with what upset you earlier washes over you.
“Baby? Hey, where’d you go?” Baby. Fucking baby. He’s got to stop calling you that. You want to tell him to stop, so why can’t you open your mouth and form those simple words.
“Mhm, ’m okay.” You can’t even bring yourself to put the tiniest bit of distance between your bodies.
You mentally scream at yourself for sounding so noticeably pathetic. He must think you are how could he not when you’re making it so painfully obvious.
“Don’t hide from me, baby. You know you don’t need to hide anything from me.” How ironic.
“I’m not- I just-” you huff and lean your forehead against Jeongin’s chest. God, when did he get so…buff? Has he always been like this?
He pulls your head back to force your gaze to meet his. “What did I tell you, hm? Talk to me baby. I’m all ears.” His arms encircling your body is the last straw before the world comes crashing down on you.
Tears flood your vision and you aren’t even sure as to why you’re crying this time.
Pathetic and dramatic. Great.
Jeongin immediately thinks he’s overstepped now, he took it too far and made you uncomfortable. He removes his hands from you immediately though the action kills him inside, when in reality you want the exact opposite. You want him to pull you closer, you want your chest flush against his to the point where you can feel his heart beating.
“I’m sorry, Innie. I’m sorry.” You finally climb out of his grasp and step away from him. He follows you and with every step he takes forward you move backward until you collide with the wall.
“Why are you sorry when you didn’t do anything wrong? I don’t want you apologizing to me for no reason. If anyone should be apologizing it’s Seungmin, but it’s his fault and his loss, you know that.” You wish Jeongin would stop being so supportive, it’s making it ten times harder to ignore your surfacing issues.
“That’s not the problem, Jeongin.”
Since when did you call him by his full name?
“Then what is it? Is it me? Please I- I just want to help you.”
Your tears have finally halted and you couldn’t be more thankful. You need to be able to properly look into his eyes.
“You can’t help me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“Why are you being so difficult all of a sudden?”
“I’m not.” You cross your arms over your chest.
Jeongin blows out a frustrated huff. “Why can’t you tell me? Is it because Seungmin and I are friends becau-”
“I love you.”
“I know you do, which exactly is why you should be talking to me right now instead of bottling it all up-”
“No, Jeongin. I love you. Not in a friend way, not in a platonic way. I want to kiss you and hold you and-” You’ve worked yourself up so much you have cut yourself off in order to calm down.
Jeongin’s mouth stays agape for a solid five seconds before he even processes what you’ve said. “You love me?”
“Is that not what I just said?” Jeongin has to bite back his smile at your remark but quickly frowns again at the expression on your face. You look regretful, like you wish you never spoke. You’re just waiting for his rejection, willing it to come faster so you he’ll leave and you can wallow in self pity by yourself in the comfort of your bed. You disturbed the peace that was your friendship.
“I- the breakup is still fresh and you aren’t thinking straight, baby. Don’t say things you don’t mean.” Jeongin pleads. Is he trying to convince you or himself?
“But I do mean it Jeongin. I really do and I can’t believe it took me this fucking long to figure it out and I wish I’d never caught feelings because this is just a shit show now.”
He goes to speak but you quickly interrupt him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Just forget about it,” you expect him to leave, or to at least move away. But he doesn’t, instead he leans in closer to your ear and whispers in a hushed tone,
“Didn’t I just tell you to stop apologizing, baby?” The way he says ‘baby’ sends shivers down your spine, it’s different than the other times he’s called you that. This time his words actually do have a hidden meaning. His breath ghosts the shell of your ear for a moment before he slowly pulls back to look at you. As if he hasn’t studied your every feature to the point where you’re engraved in his mind.
“You have to promise me that you actually understand what you’re saying and that it isn’t the post breakup neediness talking.” He looks at you sternly and fully expecting a response in words.
You, on the other hand, have absolutely no intention of speaking as you instead grab him by the collar of his hoodie before pressing your lips against his.
Kissing your best friend is much more intimate than you ever expected. He kisses you like it’s not the first time and with more than enough purpose. It starts off aggressive but soon simmers down into a delightfully slow and passionate rhythm and as cliche as it sounds, it’s in this moment that you finally know where you belong, where your home is.
No matter the circumstances, Jeongin always left a space for you in his heart. His subconscious wouldn’t let him fill it with someone else even if he wanted (which he didn’t), forever waiting for you to find the spot with your name written all over it and stay there for as long as you may live.
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tags: @skzstarnet @godslino @myseungsunglove @seungseung-minmin @azuna-sz @chanyeolsrealwife
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acalfinthemuseum · 3 days
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nightingale
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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.
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cluelylikesporn · 2 days
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should totally do anything mirio related. I need more mirio content istfg
HII so i'm gonna do some headcanons cuz i feel like it
some sad some random (PLZ GET THE JOKE LMAO)
warnings: nsfw below the cut!! gender neutral reader !
mirio headcanons ♡
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sfw:
i feel like hes the type of guy to go to disneyworld and squeel when he sees mickey
i also feel like if he was quirkless he'd be mickey
hes definitely the sweetest boyfriend ever i swear
he def popped up out of the floor, scared the shit out of you to ask u out w a lil bouquet of flowers.
i js feel it in my bones that hes constantly giving u flowers
i usually hate the petname "babe" but i feel like its ok when he says it.
petnames include babe, hon, honey. i lowkey hate unique pet names (like how in the 2020 fanbase all the pet names were like teddy bear and pebble im sorry i hate it)
his favourite ice cream flavour is vanilla and is passionate about how its not basic and its actually super hard to make.
tried to play fortnite once and was extremely bad and came 99th. he was way too calm ab it.
gets so happy when he sees you with eri, and you guys go out together constantly.
always buys you stuff, like fully SPOILS you. he usually buys you too many stuffed animals and u js give them to eri lmao
hes a dog person 100%
was the type of dude in middle school to absolutely drench himself in axe body spray cologne
he was a wreck after nighteye died and cried in your arms every night. he blamed himself everytime.
nsfw
remember how i said he likes vanilla? i think he is tbh
but honestly not in a bad way, like very caring during it and gentle.
i js cant picture him being rough it seems strange. and does this man look kinky? no.
i feel like he likes any position where your facing him and he can be like face to face with you, or just be able to touch your back and hug you.
hes so sweet i cant
talking you through it the whole time
doing small things like tucking your hair behind your ear or wiping your sweat away.
this mans stamina is CRAAAZY LIKE HOLY SHIT
constantly checking up on you, asking if its too much or if he can go faster.
whimpers. WHO SAID THAT??
cant keep his hands off of you after, just kissing you all over your face.
an: ill be working on another request for ua faculty headcanons or imagines idk yet and it should be released tomorroww! fill up my inbox guyss ! ♡
song of the dayy !!
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m-eltdown · 3 months
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hailsatanacab · 2 years
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*sobbing* so how bout that chapter guys
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not much to laugh abt this time ;-;
do feel like I should apologise to Danny, that chapter sure was a doozy, huh 😬
for chapter 12 of cetbwa, tysm!! ❤️
#dpxdc#danny phantom#danny phantom crossover#batman#bruce wayne#cetbwa#close enough to be whole again#tellmeabtspinos#blood#raw meat#tags: completed! rambling ensues#my friend. BESTIE. PAL. MY GUY. im sorry#almost messaged you yesterday like lmao good luck with this one because there’s nothing for meme#also today was another exercise in restraint but this time its because im covering work again#and i had to get bby niece ready whilst also getting ready for work all the while hoping HOPING that i had some good sweet memes waiting#and i did#and now im at work strategically placed so i can see the door because there’s a show happening and for once it's actually busy lmao#with my scarf wrapped tightly around my face because 1) its surprisingly cold and 2) to muffle the laughs#i am sORRY about the angst#no you know what??? will not apologise for it#because thats going to set a very dangerous precedent lmao.... things are coming up babes#i am. so nervous#memes are gonna get harder so thank you in advance for your valiant service 🙏#the boomerang one made me snort ugly style#ALSO LOOK. Danny could kick Dash's arse at any point - in both canon and fanon - but he chooses not to and i love that for him#also imagine danny making a friend in tuck for the first time and then watching his friend go through like the worst shit#of course he's gonna want to get Dash! but also he can’t so like.... distracting him with a better target is the next best thing#customers leave me alone challenge#im trying to write subpar meta for my own fic lmao#turns out im at tag limit anyway 😡 TYSM FOR YOUR MEMES ONCE AGAIN!! they never fail to make me laugh and i am so so lucky you do it ily!!
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good-beanswrites · 8 months
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Hello, I've been thinking about your actors au. Are you doing anything about Rei and Mikio being the only side characters with faces in the first trial? Because I do have a theory about that which I haven't posted but I always thought that was really interesting. Even Yamanaka pointed it out in the first anniversary stream.
Ah, I definitely want to!! Mikio is the man in Harrow, right? (There's also maybe-Rumerie in Bring it On who drives me crazy to this day asdfsd) I'm hoping once the project ends and we get the bigger picture, I can really highlight their relationships more. I'll touch on some of my ideas real quick, but I'd love to hear your theory if you ever end up posting it 👀
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My problem is, I originally thought the faces show the prisoners' love towards them, and not necessarily mutual relationship -- which causes some hiccups with including them as characters in the au... (Including t2 faces), Haruka hungers for his mother's love, but given her abuse, they couldn't in good conscience have her on set with him. Rumerie may have been some sort of friend, but he didn't seem so close that he'd be okay seeing Fuuta again and being implicated in his crime. Muu cares very deeply for Rei, but even if the murders never occurred, I can't picture a young girl would feel safe filming her own death at the hands of her bully... I ran into a similar issue with Mahiru and Kazui's partners, but as adults I felt like it was easier and safer for them to consent to the situation.
However! The fact that Kotoko's victim has a clear face really interests me, because that's the only one that (seemingly) has no established relationship or love between them. What could Muu's realtionship with her classmate have in common with Kotoko's and the victim she hunted down from a distance? So I'd love to compare with your thoughts and reevaluate my theory as the new mvs come out...
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urfriendlywriter · 7 months
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How to write angst ?
@urfriendlywriter | req by @everynowandthenihaveacrisis @aidyaiden :)
know your character. from their deepest fears to what they cherish the most. know your deepest fear, ask yourself how you will react and feel at that moment. "oh shit, if this happened to me I'll lose my mind" what's that type of scenario for you? write it. :)
decide on the type of angst you are going for!
major, minor, physical, emotional, paranormal, spiritual, verbal, abusive, quarrel, misunderstanding, etc.
and then, decide on--what reaction you can take out of your character by doing what to them.
are they gonna be, held at a gunpoint to give something up? or have their soul wrecked by whom they thought were close to them? or is it going be horror, or etctec, decide on it.
moving on to actually writing it-
Tip 1 - Use sensory details.
her eyes brimmed with tears
his chest heaved
pain clawed at his heart, as his face twisted with hurt
his scream pierced my heart
her lips quivered
she dug her nails into her palms (to distract herself, to stop it from shaking, etc)
show what is happening to ur MC, instead of telling it.
Tip 2 - how to actually write it.
If they're panicking, make them notice too many things at once, show every detail that they're seeing, feeling, from touch, to that burning sensation on their eyes, the blood on the ground, that dryness of their throat, the buzzing in their head and their parted lips unable to trust their own sight, and--and, boom! have them register that they're really really in trouble. and that they've to act fast.
use short, very minimal type of writing for this. make it long, but not long enough that it feels like it's being dragged.
the readers should hold themselves back from skimming the page out of curiousity, they should be in their toes to find out what happens next.
what does your MC do in times of panic? do they chant calm down to themselves, do they get angry, or start crying.. or?? what makes your character genuinely feel an emotion so hard that they'll burst?
there's always something, someone that'll always give them love and easily can be that something or someone to take it away. yk.
Tip 3 - crying.
what is close to your character that u can deprive them of? will it make them cry? beg for it?
what will make ur character cry so hard, that their scream fills everyone's ear, stays in their minds like ghosts and always haunts them?
make a character who never cries, burst out with tears.
while writing crying, focus on the 5 senses, one after the other.
focus it on their breath, make them run out of breath, gasp for air, feel like they're being choked, cry so scrutinizingly. it shud punch the reader's gut.
have them replay what had just happened over and over again in their head
best books and writing styles (for angst) to analyse and learn from (in my opinion);
3rd book in the AGGTM series (yk it hit hard like a truck. it got me depressed in bed the entire time lmao)
Five Survive by Holly Jackson. The moments of red outside of the truck, and moments leading to it.
there's this book called " Warm by @untalentedwriter127 " in wattpad. the author served angst for breakfast, lunch anddd dinner.
and if there's more angsty ones, drop em in the comments! :)
Hope this helps, tag me when yall write a masterpiece! ;)
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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months
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any advice about how to deal with posting a fic and getting radio silence? I know ppl aren’t owed engagement ofc, but I feel embarrassed at having spent so long on something no one cares about, and although I liked thinking about the characters and fandom before (and was considering writing more about them), now I can’t think about it without feeling that overpowering embarrassment 😭 part of me wants to delete the fic, but that would mean having to open ao3 and look at it again LMAO
sorry for the venting, I know this is probably a me problem, but has anyone else felt this, and if so, is there any way to make this pervasive shame go away??
*hugs* This is a very painful thing to experience and there isn't really any way to make it just go away, unfortunately. However, you can reflect on it a bit, when you're ready to.
Writing and posting are separate activities. If you've enjoyed writing the story but you haven't enjoyed posting it to the Archive, you can always continue writing just for yourself. This may or may not be something you'd enjoy - you know better than I do whether some of your enjoyment came from the anticipation of a reaction to your work.
Try to analyze where your embarrassment is coming from. Is it worrying that your story was poorly written? A lack of a reaction doesn't mean that the story is bad. Being unpopular doesn't mean it's bad, either. If your story is good to you, then it's a good story.
Is your embarrassment from feeling like you were "caught trying." Is it a cringe at the idea that you put effort into something that someone else doesn't (appear to) find valuable?
Is it actually embarrassment at all? Are you feeling a different kind of hurt instead? Did you hope that someone in particular would read your story and now you feel ignored? Did you hope to be embraced by your community and now you feel shunned?
These are difficult questions that I'm asking and you might not want to think about them right now. That's okay. You don't need to if you don't want to. You can definitely delete the fic and pretend it never happened. Or you can log out of that AO3 account and create a new one and never look back. Maybe you just need to take a week or a month off for a hiatus of sorts and when the ache isn't as bad, you'll be able to face it all again.
When I felt this way, it was because I felt like I'd put something into my community and that I'd been ignored. But since that time, I've found one person who gives me all of the community support I used to get from an entire fandom, and now when I post something on AO3 I don't actually need a response anymore. I get all of the fun and excitement and validation etc from my conversations and RP threads with my best friend.
Once you've got a little distance from the pain of this moment, try to figure out what it is that you were hoping to get and then figure out how you can get it. Maybe it's through posting fic to AO3, but maybe it's not.
Let's see what others can suggest. This is not something you're experiencing alone, anon. So very many of your fellow fan writers have experienced this too ❤️
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lxkeee · 3 months
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MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE
PART TWO
pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: fanfiction
notes: lmaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago 😭 also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]
warnings: none except hand holding before marriage lmao.
PART ONE | PART THREE
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The princess of hell along with her girlfriend was just settling in the guest room heaven provided for them temporarily as they had an important meeting with them.
Charlie and Vaggie stopped talking as their was a knock on their door, “Who do you think is it?” Charlie asked and Vaggie shrugged and Charlie decided to open the door.
There stood a rather tall female angel with three pairs of wings and a golden halo on her head, the short white dress accompanied by gold compliments the woman's figure beautifully.
Safe to say both Charlie and Vaggie were mesmerized, the woman before them was drop dead gorgeous. Though, Vaggie was still cautious, despite a former angel, she doesn't know who this woman is as some seraphim angels tend to not show themselves to the lower ranking aside from Sera.
“Are you Princess Charlotte? The daughter of Lucifer?” the woman asked with her [e/c] eyes sparkling in excitement, the woman quickly placed her hands over her mouth in embarrassment, “Oh! Sorry for the intrusion, I forgot to introduce myself,” she says with a small smile before giving the two girls a curt bow, “My name is [y/n], a seraphim. It's a pleasure to meet you two.”
Charlie gave her a big grin, giving the woman a curt bow. The princess of hell decided to trust her as she couldn't sense any bad intentions from the older woman and to her, the name [y/n] sounded awfully familiar, she just forgot where she had heard it before. “It is so nice to meet you, I am Charlotte but you can call me Charlie.” Charlie said and [y/n] just grinned as Vaggie decided to just watch the two, still cautious. The older woman's eyes landed on Vaggie and she gave her a grin, “And who might you be?” she asked her and Vaggie just glared at her before avoiding her gaze, “Vaggie.”
[Y/n] just grins, her eyes analyzing the gray haired woman before letting out a small hum before shifting her gaze to the princess. [Y/n]'s heart ached a little to see how much the girl looked exactly like her father. [Y/n] misses him, she wished she did something that could have prevented his fall. Regrets always comes last. She took a deep breath then once more wore a bright smile on her face. Charlie noticed the shift of her mood but decided not to question it.
“So Charlie, I came here as I was curious what your plan for hell is about.” [y/n] says softly, she wasn't there during the meeting Lucifer requested for hell and this time, she promised to be there for his daughter instead. Charlie's eyes sparkled excitedly, excited that an angel aside from that bitch ass Adam would finally listen to her. “Really?!” The princess asked excitedly and [y/n] can only let out a soft chuckle, “Of course, why don't we take a walk while you tell me about it? Your friend can join us too.”
Charlie calmed down and gave the older woman a smile, “Vaggie here is actually my girlfriend.” she says, expecting the older woman to judge her but she was surprised when [Y/n] just ruffled her hair. “My apologies, I didn't know.”
The younger girls were surprised, that an angel didn't show any disgust to their relationship and she even looked like she approved.
“Now then, how about that walk?”
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“And that's what I'm planning, I wished for my people to find redemption and join heaven.” Charlie explained softly, taking a bite of her strawberry cheesecake. Both [y/n] and Charlie sat in a rather peaceful cafe in heaven, angelic sigils circling around them as [y/n] casted them for their privacy. [Y/n] can only smile as she listens to the younger girl who rambles about her plans for her people, [y/n] can't help but remember how similar Charlie is to her father, oh heavens... She missed him so much.
Vaggie didn't join them unfortunately, she said that she wanted to rest a little bit in the guest room.
[y/n] gracefully placed down the cup of coffee she was sipping and gently wiping her lips with a napkin, “That is truly admirable Charlie, to see you have so much hope for your people really reminds me of your father. I really hope it will come to life.” the compliment was almost enough for Charlie to burst into tears, to hear someone praise her plans and believe in it, it felt like a mother praising her.
Though, she was able to stop her tears as she realizes something. Reminds me of your father. [Y/n] and her dad knew each other.
Then Charlie remembers, the stories her dad told her about heaven and the stories he told her about his closest angel friend—the only one who believed in him. She remembers thinking that she felt her dad loved that angel in one way or another, with how fondly he spoke of her—with so much adoration.
“I remember now, you were my father's best friend!” Charlie gasped, a hand over her mouth and [y/n] can only chuckle, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Were? I still think of him as my best friend.” She chuckles softly, “Though, I don't blame him if he doesn't think the same way as I wasn't able to help him back then.” she continues sadly and Charlie had to wave her arms around to stop her, “Nonono, my father doesn't think like that. You're still his best friend.” Charlie reassured the older woman.
“Really now? How is he these days? I haven't heard from him after so many eons.” [y/n] asked softly with a slight chuckle and Charlie can only sigh with a small smile on her face, “Well... He's still how he usually is. Kind, trying his best for me, and lately he had an obsession with making rubber ducks.” she says with a small giggle making the older woman chuckle, “Thay sounds like him, though surprised that he still loved ducks. He used to ramble to me about random duck facts when he was still here. He was such a dork, I truly missed him.” [y/n] says with a chuckle, a longing look in her eyes.
Charlie was able to put two and two together, her father and this woman loved each other and she can only assume they didn't confess in the fear of ruining their friendship. Charlie loves her parents but a part of her is hoping in a different universe, her father and [y/n] are happy together.
Charlie decided not to mention it to the woman and just continued hanging out with the older woman. “I am sure he misses you too.”
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“The meeting will start in a few hours and Charlie?” [y/n] says softly before summoning a wax sealed white envelope out of thin air, gold sparkling from where the envelope is as it slowly falls into her hands. Charlie looked at her in curiosity, “Can I ask you a favor?” [y/n] asked her hesitantly and Charlie just nodded, “Of course!”
“Can I ask you a favor of delivering this letter to Lucifer?” She asked and gently extended her hand towards the younger girl in which the girl accepted the letter and placed it in her chest pocket. “Of course! My father would be delighted to hear from you.”
“Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate it dearly.” [y/n] smiled softly as she stood up from her seat, extending her hand to help the hell princess up from her seat. “Now, let me walk you back to your room so you can get ready for your meeting.”
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Now the princess of hell wishes the other angels were just as understanding as [y/n]. Even though the meeting didn't go as planned, she felt reassured as both Emily and [y/n] were there in the court room.
“What are we even talkin' about? Some crack-whore who fucked up already? He blew his shot, like the cocks in his mouth. This discussion is senseless and petty.” Lute sneers with an annoyed glare, putting on her mask. Though, Charlie can feel her patience thinning, her eyes glaring at the angels.
The other angels looking down on the scene happening below, [y/n] looking worried for her while glaring at Adam and Lute. “There's no question to be posed, he's unholy, case closed. Did you forget that 'Hell is forever'?” Adam and Lute sang mockingly and [y/n] could feel her anger starting to boil. She always hated Adam, that egoistical prick, she looked up at Sera as if asking her to stop this nonsense.
“A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month. Gotta say, I can't wait to—” Adam sang and [y/n] noticed Sera getting worried, “Adam.” Sera says sternly but it seems the man was too busy to hear her, “Come down and exterminate you!”
At that moment, loud ringing was only what [y/n] heard as she was shocked to hear him say that. Exterminate...? Don't tell me...? [Y/n] asked herself before glaring at Sera, the other angels were also shocked by the reveal.
“Wait!” Emily exclaimed, shocked by the reveal and Adam just noticed his slip up, “Shit.”
“What are you saying? Let me get this straight, you go down there and kill those poor souls?” Emily asked, horrified as she slowly flies down towards Charlie, holding her hand, “You didn't know?” Charlie asked and Emily shook her head. “Whoops!” Adam says, not a care in the world, “Guess the cat's out of the bag.” Lute says with a smirk, “What's the big deal?” Adam asked with a condescending smirk and [y/n] wished she could go down there and punch him.
“Sera, tell me that you didn't know...” both Emily and [y/n] asked simultaneously, though, Sera was just looking at Emily. [Y/n] was pissed at this whole revelation, human souls are killed in heaven by the hands that are supposed to be pure holiness. To think about blood staining those hands, fills her with disgust.
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The whole courtroom was a mess, [y/n] doesn't remember what exactly happened. The reveal that Vaggie was an angel didn't surprise her, she can sense the girl's angelic blood but the reveal that Sera was the one who ordered for the extermination to happen, filled her with rage.
“Charlie! Don't lose hope! We will find a way to help you!” Emily says as we watched Vaggie and Charlie be sucked by a portal back to hell, “Don't give up! We'll find a way!” [y/n] added, making sure the two girls heard. Sera glared at her and [y/n] glared back.
That's what Charlie last saw, Emily looking worried and disappointed but what worried her was Sera and [y/n] started arguing, angelic powers starting to spark between them and that was the last thing she saw as she returned back in hell. Thankfully, the letter was safe in her pocket.
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junityy · 2 months
Text
🕸 — stay.
pairing. spider-man!jake x fem!reader genre. fluff, slight angst, slightly suggestive?? wc. 2k warnings. for context, this is the #infamous scene in the amazing spiderman 1 when peter shows up hurt at gwens window!! and yes im including the lizard LMAO and jake is kinda down Bad note. THIS TURNED OUT SO LONG.... and also NOT how i wanted but erm well.. spiderman jake is truly all i can think about so i hope you enjoy!!!
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You were just finishing up your chemistry homework when Jake leaned against your window frame outside, and lightly knocked against your window. By now, this had become a routine-like thing, so you didn't even flinch.
The first time he did that, though, you felt slightly creeped out before letting him in regardless - because, after all, you do live on the 21st floor. The second time he did that, you started getting used to it. After all, your boyfriend just so turned out to be Spider-man. It was just something you'd get used to sooner rather than later.
Turning around and telling him, “Come in.”, you could already feel your lips form into a smile like that of a little kid's. Jake does as you said and opens the window, slowly climbing inside while you quickly save your homework document in the meantime.
“So, big guy, what was saving New York like today?” you joke before turning around to look at him. Though, once you see Jake holding onto your armchair for stability, your smile fades as quickly as it appeared and you get up when your eyes scan his body - three major scratches across his chest, along with other small wounds across his face (though these are a given by now). But also- scratches? No, it looks more like someone tried to slice him up with.. you don't even know what. Knives? This big? You can only imagine how he got these.
“Different, for sure.” he replies in a joking manner (even though there is no smile), and you can hear just a tiny bit of the pain he must be in in his voice.
“Jake?” you end up whispering as you walk towards him, and he simply lets himself fall onto your armchair before you sit down beside him.
“Seems that reptiles aren't my biggest fans.” he jokes; now smiling as he lets his head fall back while trying to catch his breath. In the meantime, you can't help but scan his wounds up close and - it's safe to say, someone (or something) possibly did try to slice him up from the looks of it.
“Reptiles?” you repeat, the confusion in your voice being very easy to identify; something Jake had already seen coming though, so that is far from surprising.
Before speaking up to elaborate further, he lifts his head again to look at you up close, then explains; “Remember that thing on the bridge yesterday? The thing that was ‘bigger’ than a human.. Well, turns out it's actually some kind of giant, mutant lizard. And it's living in the sewers, apparently.”
“A what?” raising your eyebrows in shock immediately, you can't help but blink in utter confusion a few times - at least before your eyes find their way back to his chest, and some dots start to connect by themselves. Well, his wounds make a little sense now at least. Still, neither of you could deny that ‘giant mutant lizard’ doesn't sound absolutely insane - so naturally, it takes you a second to process and.. imagine what that fight must've looked like just now.
“You're..” you frown; making eye contact with your boyfriend again after breaking it shortly. Jake on the other hand can't seem to even think about taking his eyes off of you. As per usual. “You're telling me you're fighting.. giant lizards?” you simply add. You're also certain that no matter how you would've worded this, it would sound equally just as crazy.
But, well.. your boyfriend IS Spider-man after all. So really, nothing should probably surprise you anymore. If you had to guess, things would, most likely, only get crazier from here on.
“Yeah. Well, they suck.” Jake scoffs, followed by another smile on his face, but he quickly groans in pain right after; your eyes still fixated on his wounds. It’s not like he'll die of them, so you try telling yourself to stop being so dramatic, but still.. it's a sight you'd rather not get too used to.
You hate seeing him like this. Usually, you're pretty used to seeing him with small or at least smaller wounds by now, but this? This is.. low-key crazy. You keep telling yourself that he is literally Spider-man, and that there's.. kinda no way to avoid getting hurt, yet all you hope for is to see him in one piece every single time. And it seems that the longer he keeps doing what he's doing, the chances of seeing him at all keep getting slimmer. Which is something that truly keeps you up at night, easily causing goosebumps all over your body.
“Hey.” Jake quietly says, simply to bring you back to reality once he notices you're lost in thoughts, and the next thing you feel is his hand on your cheek, softly cupping it.
Once you're actually back, you properly reconnect the eye contact you so love with him again. “What is it?” he questions not too long after, barely whispering while trying to read your expression. You, on the other hand, just remain silent; swallowing, before taking a sharp breath.
“Take this off, I'll take care of it.” pretty much avoiding the question, you point to his suit instead (or at least the upper part of it) - since, every time Jake has come here, you took care of him and his injuries. And today was gonna be no different.
While he makes sure the city is okay, you need to make sure he's okay. And vice versa, Jake has to make sure you're okay, by coming back to you every time like promised. New York could be safe for all he wants - only seeing your face every time makes him feel truly safe and sound.
And so again, he does as you say; moving to sit on the floor while leaning against your bed, he watches you do your little magic in silence. Silence, awe, admiration - it's all the same when it comes to you, really. He doesn't even deserve you, Jake thinks to himself. Like he does everyday.
Your ‘little magic’ though, simply includes disinfecting his wounds first; a process the both of you have gotten used to by now.
Once he's rolled down his suit a little, you begin to carefully pat his chest with the tissue again and again, so careful as if he'd break if you made one wrong move. Which.. seems sort of funny. You're patching up the Spider-man after all.
Jake, in the meantime, can't seem to take his eyes off of you again, so he simply doesn't. Instead, he watches your every move like his life depends on it. The look in your eyes has changed. You've gone quiet. Like, awfully quiet.
“Y/N.” he tries again after just a moment - after you clearly avoided his question the first time. When you look up just the tiniest bit, you're immediately met with his eyes on you already in no time. Oh. His eyes. “What is it?” he repeats, hoping to get you to talk this time.
Looking at him, it takes you a few moments to even form a somewhat coherent thought. Sometimes you wish you could just stop time and stay like this. With him, here. Forever.
Sure, being Spider-man's girlfriend had its perks - like Jake taking you with him to swing around New York together. Surely.. an original experience! But it also meant praying he'd come home to you every time there was trouble in the city.
“I'm just scared for you, is all.” you sigh quietly, tilting your head a tiny bit. For just a moment, silence enters, and it feels like you're falling in love with him all over again. You're just glad he's here.
“You won't lose me.” Jake assures you in the softest tone possible and immediately brings his hand back to your cheek, only to bring your face closer to his. Close enough to place a kiss on your lips, a reassuring one. A kiss that, as you both know, says something words wish they could truly encapsulate. Breaking the kiss for a short, simple “I promise.”, he immediately reconnects your lips again like he'd suffocate if he didn't.
What starts as a lovely, reassuring kiss, quickly seems to turn into something much more intimate when you feel Jake rest his other hand on your waist only to pull you as close as possible; to feel your body right against his.
Spider-man might have impressive healing abilities that are above those of the average person, but Jake felt as if having you near him was already enough healing.
“I love you.” he breathes into the kiss, and quickly tries to catch his breath when you do the same for a second. Your faces still dangerously close, all you seem to be able to get out is a “I love you too.” that sounds very out of breath, like you were the one fighting a giant mutant lizard just before.
Bringing your hand up to rest on the side of his neck, Jake can't help but sigh when he backs off a tiny bit, only so he can get a good look at you. God, you're beautiful he thinks to himself. Basically looking at you the same way he did when he first told you he loved you, he automatically moves the few strands of hair out of your face; tucking them behind your ear, while his eyes simply shine with admiration. But mostly love.
“I just love you, Y/N.” your boyfriend repeats while shaking his head slightly, and sounding completely hopeless as if he just accepted that he is, indeed, hopelessly in love with you. Though, that was more or less the case anyway.. it still is, actually. Watching his eyes go back and forth between your eyes and lips, Jake speaks up again in a low voice, “You won't lose me.”. However this time, it's a promise rather than a reassurance.
Your eyes lighting up with pure love at his words and the look in his eyes, you can't seem to hide the way your lips are forming into another tiny smile - so you decide to just let them speak by placing them on his once again.
It's like your lips were perfectly made for each other, especially when Jake tilts his head a tiny bit more to deepen the kiss - his hand still on your neck, and if it were to go after him, he'd never remove it again. It's like you were perfectly made for each other.
“Jake.” you mumble into the kiss, yet keep it going because his lips feel a little too good moving against yours. Although you don't wanna let go, you (sadly) do end up breaking the kiss - which causes Jake to immediately look at you as you're gathering your thoughts one by one.
“I need to ask you a favour. It'll sound really selfish, though.” you begin quietly, only to receive a promising nod from his side, waiting for you to continue curiously while his eyes go back and forth between your eyes and lips again. Swallowing, you carefully ask, “You know I love that you're Spider-man, but can you just be Jake for tonight and stay?” Yeah, you were right about it sounding kinda selfish. Jesus.
But, like, it's true, and you couldn't really figure out a better way to word it. I mean, obviously you love that he's Spider-man - literally who wouldn't? But it's true that you love Jake Sim more. Even if just a tiny bit, which is why you want, - or need, actually - him with you tonight. Just Jake. Just the two of you.
“It doesn't sound selfish.” is the first thing he says in response, slightly shaking his head for further assurance. You're not only glad about it, but you feel your heartbeat increase rapidly when you see yet another smile form on his face, which (thank god), he doesn't even try to hide as it's getting too big. “Actually,” he lightly scoffs, biting on his lip as you watch him do so (it drives you nuts every time).
“I was hoping you'd say that, princess.” is the last thing he says before pulling you in for a kiss much, much more intimate than the ones before.
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taglist @tyunni @geombyu @jaeyunverse @yjwfav @sieuneo @beombisou @neos127
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gasstationlady · 2 months
Text
the start of something beautiful | a lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x private!reader (fc: tyla)
lando is spotted with an unknown woman, and everyone thinks she’s another fling. however, later revealed as naomi campbell’s daughter, lando's fans slowly start to love her despite her tendency to be private.
notes: btw, i’m so sorry i’ve been mia for a while! honestly, i have a ton of drafts i’ve written over the time i didn’t post, but i lowkey hate all of them lmao. anyways, hope you enjoy this fluff :)
disclaimer: swearing. photos not mine. OLD PIC OF JAZ AND ROSS (yes it’s a warning bc i’m still mourning that relationship, and ik i’m not the only one). there are a few mistakes in the tweets that i was too lazy to fix lol. also, i hope the flow doesn’t feel too rushed!
masterlist
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, yourbestie and 138 others
yourusername 🌸
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yourbestie 👀
↳ yourusername 🙈
yourbestie framing these pics brb 😍😍
f1gossip
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2,993 likes
f1gossip We received these photos of Lando and a girl today! It looks like the same girl he has been spotted with for the past 3 months, but it’s still unclear who it is. ☕️
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user three months of them being pictured AND YET NONE CLEARLY CAPTURE HER FACE. that’s some bs
↳ user no deadass bc you guys had one job 🙄
user lmaoooo i know the delulu fans are crying that she’s still here
user Are we sure it's the same girl? Lmfao even if it is, he's probably going to get tired of her soon!
user god i hope people learn and treat her better than how they treated luisinha
landonorris
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 759,301 others
landonorris First time trying wakeboarding 🤙
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user happy lando >>>
user Where’s your girlfriend
user not the red bull life vest lmfaoo
user lando rlly said here’s some shirtless pics to distract u
↳ user frrr but like it’s not working 😭
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f1gossip
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12,321 likes
f1gossip Naomi Campbell and daughter, Y/N Campbell, making an appearance at today’s GP! It's presumed that Y/N is dating Mclaren driver, Lando Norris. Our sources in the paddock mentions that the two visited the Mercedes, Ferrari, and Mclaren garages before the race. 👀
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user i'm literally in love w her she's soo beautiful 😍
user this actually makes sense that they knew each other since naomi has been connected to f1 for a while now
user I would be unstoppable if I looked like her.
user she looks so kind 🥺🥺
user oh the things i would do to reincarnate as a wealthy person’s child
user i was there and got to meet her and i’d just like to say that i’d go to war for her
landoupdates
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7,626 likes
landoupdates Max, Lando, and Y/N (seen in second photo, far right) with fans at an after party! We received these pictures a few minutes ago, and the fan included “Y/N mostly stood behind as Max and Lando were asked for photos but she was so so kind !! Although you can tell she likes to keep to herself, she told me she thought my dress was cute and even got Lando’s attention for me so I could ask for a picture 😭 Also, he kept holding her hand !!!”
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user her face card is insane.
user now that we know she's naomi's daughter, i can't believe we didn't see it before LOL
user “he kept holding her hand” 😭😭😭😭😭
user I have never wanted someone to go off private so bad 😩
user honestly she’s my new fav wag
user it’s the way everyone loves her rn lmaoooo
user LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT
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f1gossip
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11,234 likes
f1gossip Lando, Ginge, and Ethan possibly alluding to Lando’s new relationship with Y/N in the recent Quadrant video 👀👀
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user not them clowning him 😭
user i mean we all know by now that they’re together but this was the cherry on top
user melting over how he couldn’t stop smiling 🥹
user the fact that he kept this clip in 😩😩
user I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING “LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT”
user I get it 😭 I also wouldn’t be able to hide that I’m dating Y/N
user perfect example of private but not a secret, in love with them 🥹🥹
landoupdates
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5,389 likes
landoupdates A few photos of Lando and Y/N at the paddock today ☺️
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user literally my fav couple
user when is he gonna make it officially on insta
↳ user My thoughts exactly!! 😭😭 I know not everything has to be posted, but I’m just excited to see him officially announce it.
user my girl y/n looked so fucking good today
user i just want him to post her solely because i want more y/n pics
↳ user LOL you’re so real for that
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landonorris
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liked by yourusername, angryginge13, georgerussell63 and 1,221,334 others
landonorris We so good ❤️
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user THE HAND PLACEMENT
user not tagging her is criminal 😭😭
↳ user girl what’s the point when she’s on private
user When will it be my turn 😩
user LANDO??? OMFG
user TURN IT UP IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE 😁😁😁🔊🔊
user omggg i can’t, they’re goals
user Y/N IS SO CUTE
user i luv my parents
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famwhy · 11 months
Text
Bereavement
noun
/bɪˈriːv.mənt/ The state one is in when losing someone important to them
Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse
42! Miles X F!Reader, 1610! Miles X F!Reader
Synopsis: Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?
Note: this one's for my cousin. The idea actually came to me while I was rewatching the first spiderverse lmao. Who knew Kingpin was such a source of ideas?
part two.
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You saw it—on the control panel—42. Miles had been transported to Earth 42.
You belonged to 1610; which meant that Miles also belonged to 1610.
He was in the wrong universe.
Your best friend was stranded in the wrong universe.
Now, if you were a rational person, you would've called for back-up—maybe even gotten Hobie's help like Gwen had. But you weren't a rational person—and could anyone blame you?—your best friend was probably in danger, of course you would act without thinking.
The watch wasn't hard to swipe, everyone was too caught up in what had just happened with Miles to care for guarding their little 'goober' dimension devices. Tracking him down wasn't terribly difficult either, not after you knew which world he went to.
All you really needed to think about was where exactly you had to open the portal—but luckily for you, Margo was willing to help.
"You owe me for this, by the way." Her head tilted your way, lids narrowed in a sassy look you dismissed with a wave of your hand.
"Yeah, okay, what're his coordinates?"
With a roll of her eyes—that you very much thought was quite rude—she gave you just what you needed; his exact coordinates.
The assortment of colours and geometric shapes appeared before you with a few taps of your finger against the cold device, flitting across the room in a bright blur of pure chaos that hurt your eyes to look at—
—but you would endure it; if only for Miles' sake.
"This is stupid, by the way—" you turned, facing the girl who insisted on making a snide comment every five seconds, "—you're not even a spiderperson."
"Says the girl who's speaking to me through a VR headset and isn't actually here right now," you growled.
"Careful, I can shut this whole thing down right now and tell Miguel what you're planning," she returned your apprehension with crossed arms, brows furrowing even further.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sighed, "it's just— I'm worried about him. Please don't tell Miguel. Miles has saved me so many times, it's time I save him for once."
You assumed you must've looked rather pitiful for her features to have softened up, arms falling limp by her side as she, too, gave a sigh; though hers sounded like it stemmed from a different type of exasperation to yours.
"Just... go. Before I change my mind—preferably."
You gave her the brightest smile you could muster, hoping to god she could see all the appreciation in it—and there was a lot—before turning back around to take a step into the portal.
"Miles! I'm here to—"
As soon as you walked through, you were met with a dark room—though, that wasn't what caught your attention. Instead, your wide eyes landed on that familiar hanging bag, beat down and bits of its material flaked off.
Chained up to it, was your very own, Miles Morales. And stood directly opposite to him was... also Miles Morales?
Alright, you were aware of this whole 'spiderverse' thing but you didn't think it would be this trippy.
"...save you?"
They were both staring directly at you, however, the expressions situated on their faces were vastly different.
Miles—your Miles—had his eyes blown wide, shaky pupils not leaving your form for a second, even as he started frantically shaking his head from left to right, he still remained in eye-contact with you.
The other Miles also had his eyes blown wide. This time, however, it wasn't in warning—no—his pupils were dilated and his form stood rigid; still as a statue.
"Cariño..." he whispered; so much breath in his voice, it barely sounded like words were coming out.
"Y/N! You have to get out of here!" Your Miles yelled, pulling at his chains as though it would get him any closer to you.
You scoffed. "And leave you? I don't think so."
"Don't worry about me! You have to—"
"Cariño."
You blinked, casting your gaze back over to the other Miles—who now stood much closer to you than before. He was just an arm's length away, in fact, how did you not notice him approach you?
"Mi vida, oh Y/N..." his voice was soft as he spoke—quiet and coated in an emotion you were unfamiliar with—hand moving up to your cheek to gently trace a cold, steel claw over it.
"Hey!" The sound of metal chains clicking grew more frantic from behind him. "Stay away from her! Don't you dare hurt her!"
Either the Miles in front of you was ignoring your friend on purpose, or he genuinely didn't hear him, because he continued to do as he was doing—continued to give you shivers from the icy material against your cheek.
Then, all too suddenly, he flew into your torso, engulfing you in a hug so tight—so inextricably emotional—you stumbled back a little from the sheer intensity of it all.
"You're alive..." he breathed out—and it was then that you finally understood what the tone of his voice was. "You're really, truly alive. Oh mi cariño, I've missed you so much."
"Wha—?"
"Lo siento... lo siento." He buried his face into the crook of your neck and the surface of your skin slowly grew wet, your collar soaking up. "I didn't get there in time, I couldn't save you."
You and your Miles shared a glance.
You saw your reflection in his eyes; the look of shock on his face; the scenes that flashed through his pupils. You saw a fear in him, one unlike anything you had ever seen before.
You saw your near-death experience replay right before him.
"Te quiero—" the other Miles—the one holding you—grounded you once more with his words as he pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes and continue, "—you know that, right? I'm so sorry for not saying it before. If you hadn't— if you never— I'm so sorry."
The phrase shocked you, sending an electric pulse down your spine and rendering you utterly immobile.
"I always have. For the longest time. It's always been you. It's always—only—ever been you."
If what he was saying was true... then—?
"Y/N!"
Suddenly, the metal against your hips was replaced by the familiar silky material you were used to; the one worn by your Miles.
"Miles," you breathed out, looking all around you to see the shattered glass that flew in the wind—scattering in all different directions as the warmth of the inside abandoned you.
"I'm gonna need you to hold on, okay?"
You nodded.
Then, you glanced behind him, catching sight of the familiar geometric mask of the Prowler—sharp claws out—coming in hot and fast and furious.
"Miles—!"
"I know, mami, I know. I need you to trust me for a minute, alright? You know I'll never let you get hurt."
You nodded once more, nails digging into his dark suit as you buried your face directly into his chest. You felt yourself flow through the air, swiftly moving as the wind worked against you, pushing back on your hair as though you were its worst enemy.
It was nice. It was fun. It was... bound to go wrong.
One moment, you were safe, all coddled up in Miles' arms as he swung through the sky—the next?—
—you were falling.
"Y/N!"
(Note: I feel like I need to address this because some people seem to be misunderstanding what I'm doing with Margo.
First of all, Margo is not AT ALL being mean in Bereavement. The whole of that fic is written in the Reader's perspective (and I'll prolly end up writing something in both Miles' perspective too) - this makes her an unreliable narrator so you can't trust the way the story is being told to you is 100% accurate to the true events.
At the start, the Reader is frustrated because she knows her best friend is stranded on another universe - this makes her unfairly take out her frustration on Margo when she thinks lines like 'who always seemed to have to say something every five seconds' (paraphrased).
Margo thus responds accordingly (as she should) and although she threatens to tell Miguel, she never actually would because she is legit one of the only real ones in the movie. So no, to those commenters that were accusing me of making her 'aggressive' cuz she was black - that is not what I'm doing at all. I am writing the Reader's perspective after just having lost her best friend.
Margo is the only one helping. She is literally being kind to the Reader. If anything, the Reader is the one being rude to her but again, that's because her best friend is missing which isn't an excuse but definitely an explanation.)
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cheeseceli · 8 months
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SKZ arguing over the bill
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Pairing: ot8!skz × gn!reader (individually)
Genre: fluff
Request: yes!
Warning: mentions of food, reader never pays lmao. Changbin, Chan, Seungmin's were heavily inspired by "Telling your Stray Kids boyfriend you can’t afford to eat out with them" by @ronnierites . If you don't allow this pls lemme know and I'll delete this post. Not proofread
A/n: that's kinda a new format, hope you guys like it! And this have been on my to do list since forever lol sorry for the wait
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Bang Chan
Doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable
But he wants to spoil you so badly
Would let you pay if you were uncomfortable but he wants to make sure you get it he would love to pay for you as well
"You know Chris, I can pay for it."
"I know."
"So?"
"I'd rather do it. But thank you baby."
"But-" you stopped talking once you saw his card swiping. You truly should be used at this point "oh."
"Why do I feel like you're unhappy?"
"It's not that I am not happy, it's just that you always pay."
"It's my pleasure."
"But I don't know, I don't want you to think you're being pressured or something like that."
"Babe, I don't feel like that at all. Don't you worry. You're always doing so much for me, that's just a little 'thank you' of mine."
You gave him a little smile and proceeded to hug him, feeling safe in his warmth.
"I'm so lucky to have you."
"I should be the one saying it."
Lee Know
Bro you don't even spare a chance
He's paying before you even have a chance to take your wallet out of your pocket
I'm surprised you even try tbh
"Should we ask for the bill?"
"Oh, I already paid for it, don't worry."
You looked dumbfounded at him while he was finishing his food. You didn't see him talk to a waiter and you're sure he didn't pay for it before you two had your meal.
"What? When?"
"When we were asking for the dishes. Didn't you see it?"
"No?" you tried to recall the moment with no success "Why would you pay? I feel bad that you pay for everything all the time. I don't feel like reciprocating enough."
His eyes soften and a little smile comes to his lips while he watches you pout. If only you knew how much you did for him.
"Hey, look at me. It's okay. You already reciprocate with everything you do. That's already perfect"
Changbin
He pays with the money, you pay back with kisses
Sorry but that's his boyfriend duty
He is physically incapable of not paying for everything
"Hey baby. I'm off work in 40 minutes. I'll pick you up so we can have lunch, okay?"
You were glad that for once you were on a voice call with him instead of being in a face time like you'd usually do. This way he didn't see the way your smile dropped so quickly.
"Um, I don't think I'll be able to."
"Oh? Why?"
"I'm kinda... broke right now. I haven't received my last payment yet."
"Okay? What does that have to do with anything?"
"I don't want you to be the one who always pays for our things. I should be able to pay sometimes."
"You don't need to. That's my boyfriend duty. You know I don't mind, I actually enjoy it quite a lot."
"Still bothers me though. I'd hate to not contribute at all."
"You can always cuddle with me and shower me with kisses. That will make me happier than anything money can buy."
Hyunjin
Stop he'll be like genuinely so sad if he can't pay
He would let you pay if you were really insistent
But then he'll go like :( and you would let him take the bill out of pity lmao
"Hyunjin, stop looking at me like that."
"But darling, I can pay. You know it doesn't bother me."
"Just this once, let me pay, okay?"
"Okay"
"...Jinnie I really need you to stop that."
"I'm not even doing anything."
"Oh God" you sigh and let your head fall, knowing the man beside you won the argument once more "Fine. You can pay."
He didn't waste a second, swiping his card as fast as possible just so you couldn't have the time to change your mind. After he payed the meal, he took your hand in his and started to walk in the direction of the restaurant's exit with a triumphant (and really sweet) smile.
"I swear I don't get why you like to pay so much."
"My love should be treated as royalty, and that includes me paying for everything you wish for."
Han
Bro is offended
Believes with all his heart that he should be the one paying
Tries to distract you when the time to pay comes
"Were you paying while I was in the restroom?"
"... perhaps."
"Han."
"Baby. You know I like to pay for you."
"But you do that all the time."
"It's my way of showing love! If you ask me, I actually don't think it's enough. It's the least I can do."
He could see in your eyes that you weren't convinced. Unfortunately (for you), he only saw that as an opportunity to spend even more money. Maybe then you would believe him.
"C'mon, lemme show you a little bit of love. You can pay me back with thousands of kisses if that's what's bothering you."
Felix
He loves to pay.
If he could, he would pay for absolutely everything that you could ever want or need.
But if that's something which really bothers you, he will let you pay as well
Tries to do that "the one who invites is the one who pays" thing and fails
"Felix. Don't even dare."
He looked at you confused until he realised you were staring at the credit card in his hand, probably hoping that it could disappear before the waiter came back with the bill.
"C'mon, it's just a small lunch. I can pay for it."
"No. I invited you. I pay."
"Actually, if you think about it, I'm the one who suggested this place."
"Two years ago."
"Still counts."
"Not as an invitation though. I'm the one who asked if you wanted to come here."
Felix sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to convince you of otherwise. If only he could.
"Okay. Next time it's on me."
Seungmin
LMAO sorry you're 100% not paying
Don't even try
Boyfriend duty pt 2 except he is even more dedicated somehow
"Why did you bring your wallet?"
"I wanted to pay for this one."
"... why?"
"You always pay for everything."
"And I don't plan on stopping so you can take your wallet away."
"Minnie, please. I don't want you to be the one who always end up paying for everything."
"But I want to. I wouldn't mind paying for every single thing for the rest of our lives. So you can't take your money away of my sight because I'm paying."
"For the rest of our lives huh?"
"Don't tease." But you didn't miss how the corners of his lips lifted once he thought you weren't looking anymore.
I.N
Rock, paper, scissors. The winner is the one who pays
It's funny and neither of you can complain about the outcome of it because it's technically fair
Except you always throw scissors first and never noticed it
And Jeongin doesn't have the heart to tell you
"We should change this game."
"No way" he said while giving the money to the cashier whilst trying to hide his grin from you "Not my fault you are horrible at this."
"Seriously though, I think you're cheating. It's impossible for you to win every single time."
"How does one cheat at 'rock, paper, scissors'? Besides, you won yesterday."
"After losing at least 50 times. And I got to pay for some ice cream. It's not the same as paying for a whole meal."
"Get better at this and maybe you get to pay for a whole meal one day. C'mon, we can have some milkshake now. Maybe you'll win this time."
You had a feeling you wouldn't though. He was sure you wouldn't.
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Reblogs and feedback are appreciated!
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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avocado-writing · 2 months
Note
Companions reacting to Tav telling them they love them right in the middle(or after) a fight?? Like Tav is just so in awe of seeing em in action<3
oh! So sweet! Absolutely, here you go anon - writing as if you’ve seen them do something magnificent in battle & are so overcome with love that you have no choice but to blurt it out! (some stuff under a cut for being a bit NSFW LMAO) plus mentions of blood & violence
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Astarion
stabs someone attacking you from out of the darkness with such efficiency they’re dead before they hit the ground
you’re blown away by the bloodlust and fury in his eyes - how DARE someone try to hurt you?
”I love you,” you choke out, wide-eyed and trembling from fear and emotion.
he’s shocked, but reaches over to give you a quick and bloody kiss before stabbing someone approaching behind you and urging you to get back to the fight
tells you later it was very silly to be distracting yourselves like that… but he does appreciate it nonetheless 😌
Wyll
we’ve seen the way he’s introduced in game, we know he’s a fan of some showmanship
you see him deal with three opponents at once, Eldritch Blasts in one hand and rapier in the other, and shout that you love him almost instinctively
when he finishes seeing them off he leaps across the battlefield, spins you, and gives you a fiery kiss before darting back up to block another sword
you feel like you’ve had the air stolen from your lungs but quickly manage to recalibrate yourself - you have a fight to win!
you can’t help stealing glances at his fine form for the rest of the battle though 😏
Gale
we know canonically he gets turned on from watching you fight.
you yell out that you love him after seeing him sling the coolest Fireball? he’s putty in your hands afterwards.
so desperate, kissing you, begging for your hands to be all over him
“you are so wonderful, my heart… to see you in battle… it set every inch of me aflame…”
gets you into a routine of quickies after battle bc the two of you are fired up. neither of you mind delaying your adventure to fuck rough and fast. the rest of the party… could do without that.
Karlach
is busy raging and does NOT hear you lol
roars in response but that could just be a normal battle roar when it comes to her tbf
she finds you afterwards though, a little sheepish, and is like “oh erm did you say you loved me mid-battle?”
”yes! you looked so cool cleaving that dude in half karlach, I was a bit swept up…”
her face goes bright(er) red and she actually giggles before pulling you into a kiss
“things like that make this all worthwhile, solider. I love you too.”
Shadowheart
you’re dying. she floods you with a cure wounds so powerful it starts your heart again and also cures, like, an unrelated ache in your hip too, lol
you look up at her, bathed in the blood of battle, and she is like an angel sent from the heavens
“I love you” you manage to croak out from cracked lips
“I know,” she says, utterly unfazed, and then pushes you to your feet to keep on fighting
does give you a sweet smooch after battle though, to let you know she appreciated it 😌
Lae’zel
“tsk’va! there is a time and a place for this!”
she swings her sword and cuts a man’s head clean off, showering you both in a rain of warm blood, and you’re enchanted with her.
has to fight people off from wounding you because you’re so distracted oops
afterwards tells you that you cannot afford to be so absent-minded in battle… but does hold you close and rest her forehead to yours, allowing a moment of connected closeness between you ❤️
Halsin
you confess it when you see him bear out and start ripping people into pieces.
he is just… incredible. all raw power and brilliance.
you shout your love over to him and the bear roars before taking the head off of a zombie in one bite
always fights nearby you anyway, but will make an effort to get closer so he can hear your words of affection better!
plods over to you in wildshape afterwards and nuzzles into you, huffing happily when you bury your hands in his fur and give him a scratch 💕
Minthara
her blade is full of the might of her god, and she is going to use it to sunder her opponents.
you’re dazzled, in utter awe when she kills a fiend with a single blow from her sword
you can’t help the words falling from your lips.
she lifts her shield to block a blow from falling on you, and in its shade she gives you a kiss and says one word:
”good.”
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blue-jisungs · 4 months
Text
you still sleep with plushies ♡
author’s note. as a person who’s still sleeping w plushies !! it’s totally normal !! and i just thought its a cute idea to write a reaction like that so here u go ^_^ maybe i’ll do other unit versions,, we’ll see!!
warnings. jihoon’s is a liiiiiil suggestive if you think about it …
hhu ver & perf ver
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┆彡 JEONGHAN [ 정한 ]
this mf…
like ofc he noticed the plushies on your bed while he visited you
but he thought it’s just a decoration!!
and once you invited him to sleep over
which was supposed to be super cute and relaxing, just the two of you
so all snuggled and watching a movie in your bed, he noticed you were clutching to a plushie of a dog
he frowned and noticed the plushies are all over the bed
"angel, do you sleep with all of those? isn’t jr too cramped?" he teased, grabbing a random one and poking its eye
when he was met with silence, he noticed the pout on your lips :(
and he immediately feels guilty, especially when you clutched the dog even closer
"i was just asking because you know… i don’t want to kick them from the bed in my sleep" jeonghan tried to save himself and it kind of worked
"if that’s a problem i can…" you started and he couldn’t bear it anymore <\\3
“no, no. i’m sorry, i just… im not used to this” he cupped your face, pecking your pout "it’s not a problem. it’s… quite cute"
it takes him a while to get used to all the plushies staring at him lol (and sometimes getting tangled in the sheets between you, him and your limbs)
but he finds it really adorable :”)
┆彡 JOSHUA [ 조슈아 ]
joshua entered your bedroom when you asked him to bring a hoodie from there
and he stood there, like a deer caught in the headlights
(haha,, deer… get it?? because he’s… yeah, i’ll shut up)
you were concerned why he’s taking so long and when you saw him peek at the plushies curiously, you gasped
"um, yeah… i still sleep with those…" you mumbled and were met with his ^▽^ smile
"this is so adorable, why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he asked and noticed a deer plushie
when you murmur that you were just shy, he hugs you and places kisses on your face while giggling
you’re seriously the most precious human that he’s ever met :(
and honestly he only fuels your cute habit by buying you more and more plushies
and he just loves when you send him pics of them chilling with you in your bed
or when he cuddles with you and all the cute plush animals surround him hehe
it’s like a new life mission for him,, to buy you all the plushies in the world :”)
especially the deer ones hehe so they can remind you of him <3
┆彡 JIHOON [ 지훈 ]
you usually hid your plushies when your boyfriend came over,, for the time being you wanted him to think you’re normal lmao
but one day after a date you went to your place
and when you entered your place, jihoon’s lips were immediately on yours.. not even giving you a second to breathe…. messily making out……. the plushies were the last thing you wanted to think about
so when he led you to the bedroom, placing small love bites on your neck;;; you froze
jihoon panicked that he did something wrong but then he saw your face getting red while looking at something
plushies
and then you saw him smile brightly, erupting into giggles
"just when i thought you couldn’t get any more cuter” he snickered "why i never saw them before?"
so you explained everything and he was just <\\3
he doesn’t really mind it, only when you prefer to cuddle them instead of him >:T
or will randomly punch them.
and steal.
he’ll steal some plushies to put in his studio,, so they can remind him of you :((
and that he can cuddle something that smells like you when he’s taking a nap there :((
(obviously he’d rather die than admit it)
┆彡 SEOKMIN [ 석민 ]
actually it’s the first thing he notices when he enters your room for the first time ㅠㅠ
you see his shocked expression and feel the rush of embarrassment hit your face
"i, uh… those are–" you started but he walked up to your bed and picked up a fluffy, white cat plushie
"so adorable! and there’s so many of them, woah y/nnie!" he cooed and looked at you, eyes wide "can i touch…?"
and his hearts melt when he sees your face lit up, a visible relief washing over your expression while you nod vigorously
"wait, i can even tell you their names" you grin and he’s so soft like,, moments from melting and turning into a puddle on the floor :((
so for the next hour you introduce every plushie and their names and backstory!!
and he treats them so gently, almost as if they were made out of the finest china <\3
will absolutely love to sleep w you in his arms, alongside the plushies that he knows how much they mean to you
and you allowing him to cuddle w them too is also something that makes seokmin fall for you even more (if that was even possible)
┆彡 SEUNGKWAN [ 승관 ]
kwannie and you usually did sleepovers at his place but once he asked if you can do one at yours
he saw you tense up a bit and got concerned that maybe he pushed some boundaries
”sure but… um, i sleep with plushies…” you mumbled
seungkwan blinked once. twice.
“okay, so?” he frowned like it was (because it is) the most normal thing ever
and he could see how happy n relieved you got ^_^
he needs to get used to it lmao like,, so. many. stuffed. animals.
he listens as you explain where u got each of them and their names
"and i bought this one because it reminded me of you. i named it booboo" you grinned and showed him an orange plushie with a happy face on it
he swore he could just melt down in this moment, right here right now
but oh my god. gets SO offended when you cuddle booboo to sleep instead of him >:(
“eh, that just sucks” he throws a tantrum and turns his back to you, pouting
but then you put the orange plushie into his arms and wrap your hands around his waist, cuddling him like he was the plushie itself
and atp he doesn’t even care that it makes him the small spoon, he loves the proximity <3
masterlist <3
taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth
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libraryofgage · 6 months
Text
Good Vibrations Two
This AU got a lot more attention than I expected actually hfjdks I'm so glad everyone likes it!
Anyway, here's part two! We get some concert, some peeks at how Robin helps Steve navigate social situations, and a little Eddie having an itsy-bitsy crisis over Steve's fashion choices.
Have fun! And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't (especially for this one since I wrote most of it on my phone actually lmao)
----
Steve stares at the shirts laid out on his bed, arms crossed over his chest. Choosing jeans had been easy, but choosing a shirt is giving him trouble. What do you wear to a metal show at the local dive bar for a small-town band in which the lead singer is a long-time and way-out-of-your-league crush that you've been holding a candle for since the first time you saw him laugh on top of a cafeteria table?
You definitely don't show up in a plain black shirt, that's for sure.
The lights in the hall outside Steve's room flicker, switching off and on three times. Steve just barely notices, which means he doesn't get his pants scared off when Robin appears in the doorway, grinning at him while pocketing the key to the front door he'd given her months ago into a messenger bag. "Hey, dingus," she says, striding into the room and flopping onto the bed.
Steve rolls his eyes, yanking the shirts out from under her and laying them once more over Robin's stomach and legs. "What shirt should I wear?" he asks.
It takes a few seconds for Steve to look from the shirts to Robin, and she patiently waits until he's staring at her to say, "Just pick one. Nobody's gonna care what you're wearing."
"I care," Steve says, frowning as he looks back at the shirts. For the aforementioned crush reason, Steve cares very much about the shirt he wears. "What says 'Hi, we've never talked before but your music is the only thing I can hear and I think your hair is in desperate need of quality shampoo and also I've been halfway in love with you since, like, sophomore year'?"
Robin considers the question for a long moment before picking up a red sweater. "This one says 'I'm horny'," she offers.
Steve blinks, staring at the sweater for a few beats before laughing. "But I'm not," he says.
Despite looking at Robin, she happens to angle her head toward the sweater, and her response is lost on Steve. He frowns, waits until her jaw has stopped moving, and says, "I didn't get that."
After Robin first learned about Steve's deafness, he'd been overly anxious about asking her to repeat things. Somehow, it was worse to constantly ask when the person knew he couldn't hear well, if at all. But Robin had never shown annoyance; she'd just adjust her posture, make sure Steve could see her lips, and repeat her words. She does all of this now, and Steve gets to read her joking response, "Yeah, but you will be."
And, yeah, she has him there. Steve huffs and collapses onto the bed beside her, sacrificing the shirts. "I'll need a jacket," he says, turning his head to look at Robin so he can read her response.
Instead of words, though, he sees her face light up, and she jumps off the bed. Steve sits up, watching as she digs in her messenger bag before pulling out a t-shirt. "Remember when I stayed over a few weeks ago? And you let me borrow a shirt? You should wear it!"
Thankfully, Robin waits until she's done talking to throw the shirt in Steve's face. Honestly, he only understood a few words ("remember," "borrow," and "wear") but he's gathered enough context clues to get the gist of things.
He spreads the shirt out, humming at the Iron Maiden design. It's not one he wears often; for the most part, it's a shirt he wears on lazy days at home because of how soft it is. But as he's studying the design, Steve is suddenly hit with a stroke of pure genius.
He quickly changes into the shirt and then grabs a varsity jacket (not his letterman, but one he'd seen at the mall and bought on a whim because it used a nice shade of yellow) off his desk, tugging it on over the shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. After a few more seconds of digging around, he finds sneakers under the bed and tugs them on.
"Okay," he says, turning so Robin can see the outfit from every angle. He comes to a stop when he's facing her once more, hands buried in his jacket pockets, and asks, "What do you think? How's it look?"
"I think you'll give Eddie a crisis," Robin replies, wrinkling her nose at the varsity jacket. "Not, like, a bad one. But he'll probably ask where you got the shirt from."
Steve grins, thinking that sounds about perfect, and turns to study himself in the mirror. It's a surprisingly solid blend of metal and jock, and it makes him feel oddly confident, the same way he felt the first time he did his hair just right and everyone complimented it.
"Perfect," he decides. "Let's go."
----
The ride to the Hideout isn't exactly quiet, but it's not like Steve can talk and drive at the same time. So it's filled with music blasted as high as it can go on his car stereo, causing the whole vehicle to vibrate with each beat. When he finally turns the car off after parking, Robin grimaces as she rubs her ears.
She waits for Steve to be in front of her before saying, "We're putting the windows down next time."
"Oh. Sorry," Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck a little awkwardly as Robin dismissively waves off his apology.
"No, it's fine, I'm just saying. Now, let's get inside before they start."
With that, she loops her arm through Steve's and drags him into the Hideout. They're hit with a wave of cigarette smoke, spilled beer, and sweat as they walk through the door, the combined smells making Steve dizzy. He frowns, leaning closer to Robin as she squeezes his arm. He feels her thumb tap him twice, their code for asking if the other is okay.
"I'm fine," he mumbles, nodding to a table in the corner. "Let's go sit. I just need to get used to...everything."
The lights are weird, too. Despite the place being dim, the few lights that are on are flickering, and Steve is having trouble processing all the new information his (working) senses are taking in.
Thankfully, Robin pulls him over to the table he pointed to, a small circle near a stage of dubious sturdiness. It looks like it can barely hold the instruments, much less those plus the people who will play them. There's an amp on the side of the stage near the table, which means they'll have the perfect spot to feel the music's vibrations. Steve slides into one of the chairs there and closes his eyes, resting his arms on a table that is surprisingly not sticky.
He feels Robin move the other chair next to him, slide in, and start pulling things out of her bag. When Steve opens his eyes again, there's a notebook between them and a variety of pens in all different colors spread out across the open pages. Robin has already picked up a red pen and is writing with it as Steve chooses a purple one.
When Robin is done writing, she taps the page so Steve can read, "Want something to drink?"
"I'm not sure we can trust the glasses here," he writes back.
"The fact you're calling them "glasses" tells me everything. Just sit tight."
With that, Robin drops her pen, winks at Steve, and heads over to the bar where a woman is wiping the counter. Steve watches her for a few seconds before looking around at the other people in the place. Most of them are sitting in groups, talking amongst themselves. Most of them also have mustaches or beards, making it downright impossible for Steve to read their lips.
Instead, Steve just gets a dull kind of rush in his ears, an ever-present background noise he can't escape. Soon enough, maybe because he's thinking about it too much, a high-pitched ringing starts up in his right ear, growing and growing in pitch until it's all he can focus on. Steve grimaces and looks down at the notebook, trying to keep his shoulders relaxed so he doesn't look as tense as he feels. The ringing persists, and he rubs his ear like that's going to help.
His ear is still ringing, though it has started to diminish, when a water bottle is placed in front of him. Steve jerks, forcing himself to calm down as Robin slides into her seat again with a mug of beer that's more foam than anything else. "They're about to start," she says, waiting until Steve has nodded once to show understanding before taking a sip.
Steve looks up at the stage and wonders how he missed Eddie and his friends arriving. As his friends are setting up behind him, Eddie is resting one hand on the neck of his guitar and using the other to hold the mic close to his mouth. Steve can't read his lips, but Eddie's grin is a little contagious as he says something to a guy by the bar. The guy must say something back, because Eddie bursts out laughing, his head thrown back to show off a neck Steve wants to bite.
A tap on his arm brings his attention away, and he looks at the notebook to see Robin has scrawled out a transcript:
"Eddie: Thanks for coming out tonight, everyone
Guy: Fuck off, Munson
Eddie: Love you, too, Jeremy"
Steve snorts, looking up to see Robin's equally amused smile as she continues to write on another page. When he glances at the stage, Steve sees Eddie still talking into the mic, his eyes roaming over the audience until they reach Steve and Robin. Eddie seems to grip the mic tighter, and he holds Steve's eyes for a few seconds, giving just enough time for Steve to wave awkwardly before Eddie looks away. But his smile seems a little bigger than before, and Steve is happy to let himself think he caused it.
When he looks down again, Robin has finished writing, and she nudges the notebook closer to him. Eddie must talk fast, because her writing is almost indistinguishable from chicken scratch in dirt that a cat got dragged through. Thankfully, Steve is an expert at this point.
"Eddie: Anyway, you know the drill. We'll start with some Metallica, treat you to Iron Maiden, throw in a dash of Black Sabbath, and then grace you with a Corroded Coffin original. If you don't like it, not my problem."
Steve feels the beginning of the set as he finishes reading. He sits a little straighter, planting his feet firmly on the floor and placing his palms on the table with his fingers spread. Robin is still writing next to him, most likely transcribing the bits and pieces of conversation she can hear for Steve to read later and laugh at. She doesn't try to get his attention while she does, already knowing it won't be worth it after Steve has shifted into Music Mode.
In the same way that people can tell what song is playing based simply on the first note, Steve can sometimes tell based on the strength and length of the first vibration. In the same way people know the lyrics of songs after listening to them enough times, Steve knows the vibration patterns like the back of his hand. In the same way people who hear their favorite songs played live can tell when a note is wrong or a lyric is sung too fast, Steve can tell when the drummer or bassist makes tiny mistakes that wouldn't be caught otherwise.
And Steve loves it. He loves how his entire body thrums with each vibration that travels from the amp. He loves how he can close his eyes and picture a story based on the music, one that probably doesn't match the lyrics but tends to replace them in his heart. He loves that this is something he can still share with his friends, even if most of them don't realize how different his experience with music is.
So, for all the little bumps and dips that occur in the vibrations as Corroded Coffin plays, for all the tiny slips that certainly go unnoticed by anyone else, and for all the fact that Steve doesn't get to hear Eddie's voice, he can confidently say he loves the show. He's never heard the songs played like this before, and it helps diminish the gut-deep desperation for new music.
And then Corroded Coffin starts a new song. It's one Steve doesn't recognize, one with vibrations that are completely foreign to him, and he jerks his head up to watch Eddie play his guitar in an opening solo. It thrums across the floor, climbing up his legs and spreading in waves from his palms on the table. Steve feels goosebumps chase after it, a new wave washing over him when the guitar solo ends with a particularly strong vibration that's immediately followed by the drums and bass.
Eddie throws himself into the music, moving and twisting and strutting around the stage like he's playing to Madison Square Garden. Steve can't look away, the lyrics incomprehensible but replaced by the jerk of Eddie's hips and the tilt of his head and the little half-spin he does on his heel.
It ends too quickly with one final, reverberating strum that lingers in Steve's bones, burrowing into his marrows as Eddie pushes his hair back and grins into the mic. He says something breathlessly, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, and Steve knows he's gone.
He's hopeless.
He's desperate.
He needs more Corroded Coffin, more Eddie, in whatever form he can get.
----
For the first time, Corroded Coffin gets genuine applause after playing. Usually, the patrons of the Hideout will politely clap (if they even notice the set is over) for about two seconds. Tonight, however, Eddie and his friends are graced with excited clapping, a few shouts, and one very strong whistle from a small table to the left of the stage. And it spreads because even rough biker dudes can fall to peer pressure when it's that enthusiastic.
So, yeah, genuine applause all because of Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley who, Eddie thinks, is surprising company for the former King of Hawkins High. No matter how unexpected, he should still thank them and ask what they thought of the set now that it's over. He carefully sets his guitar on a stand and glances over his shoulder, catching Jeff's gaze and flashing a grin. "I'll be right back," he says before jumping off the stage and heading over to Steve and Robin's table.
As he gets closer, he notices the notebook and pens spread out, colorful writing filling the pages and Steve grinning with amusement as he reads it. Robin is watching him like she's waiting for him to understand an inside joke already so they can laugh about it together. If Eddie didn't already know Robin was like him (band camp, summer after his junior year, during an unfortunate game of Seven Minutes in Heaven where they awkwardly stood in a closet together before Robin commented on his black bandana), he'd wonder if something was going on between them.
"How'd you like the set?" Eddie asks when he reaches the table, suddenly nervous enough to tug on a lock of his hair and pull it in front of his mouth.
Robin looks up, but Steve doesn't. He's still reading the notebook, snorting at whatever is written there like he didn't hear Eddie. It's not until Robin elbows him that he raises his head, eyes widening when he sees Eddie. "Sorry, could you repeat that?" Steve asks, his gaze dropping to Eddie's mouth (Eddie definitely isn't imagining that) and faltering some.
"I asked if you liked the set," Eddie says, frowning slightly as Robin grabs a pen and scribbles something on the notebook. It's too small for him to read, but he doesn't miss how Steve glances down for less than a second before his eyes light up with realization.
"Oh!" he says, looking back at Eddie and flashing a charming grin. "It was great. You guys are so loud, and I've never f-uh, heard anything like your original song before."
Eddie catches the way Steve fumbles, faltering like he wanted to say one word but forced himself to say another. Something is tugging at the back of Eddie's mind, but he can't quite grab onto it just yet. For now, he leans forward, placing both hands on the table so he can be closer to Steve. "You listen to metal often, Harrington?" he asks.
Steve stares at his mouth for a few seconds before nodding, and Eddie feels the thrill of learning something completely unexpected. "I like Black Sabbath best, but Judas Priest and Guns N' Roses are close seconds," Steve says.
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, "What do you like most about it?" He wants to know. Does Steve Harrington (King Steve, Steve "The Hair" Harrington, Steve fucking Harrington) like metal for the same reasons he does? Does he like the stories and the passion and the heavy theatricality of it all?
Steve seems to hesitate, possibly thinking about how to answer, before finally saying, "I like how it's music I can feel. When I listen to metal, it digs into my bones. Other music doesn't."
Somehow, Eddie's grin gets impossibly wider, and his cheeks are hurting from the sheer force of it. He's about to say more when Robin glances at the clock and swears under her breath. "Shit, I promised Mom I'd be home ten minutes ago," she says, grabbing the pens and recklessly throwing them into her bag.
It's the movement that seems to catch Steve's attention, and he looks down at Robin's hands before looking up at the clock. "Oh, fuck, your curfew," he says, looking at Robin like she hadn't just said the same thing two seconds ago.
"Yeah, no shit, dingus," Robin says, pausing long enough to speak while looking straight at Steve before throwing the notebook into her bag, too. She jumps to her feet and hauls Steve out of the chair, making his varsity jacket fall open to reveal an Iron Maiden shirt.
And Eddie thinks his heart just about stops. He doesn't know why, but seeing Steve in a metal band shirt under an undeniably jock jacket makes him feel....something. This is, like, sacrilege, right? How dare Steve Harrington allow Metal and Jock to meet? Doesn't he know the two styles clash? Or, well, they're supposed to clash, but Steve somehow wears them well, and Eddie thinks he's upset and annoyed by the fact.
Before Eddie can analyze that feeling, Steve says, "Sorry to run, Eddie. You played really well. Let me know when the next show is."
There's a lot to unpack there, too. Steve Harrington wants to come to another Corroded Coffin gig. Steve Harrington is sorry he has to cut the conversation short. Steve Harrington thinks his band played really well. Before Eddie can say anything in response, Robin is dragging Steve away, throwing a goodbye over her shoulder.
Eddie doesn't want Steve to go without something, though, some kind of departing word, so he shouts, "See ya later, big boy!"
Steve doesn't look back, but Robin nearly trips over the doorway. She then pauses long enough to say something to Steve, watching with sheer delight as he splutters and glances at Eddie before dragging her through the door. Eddie couldn't stop the grin if he tried, and he didn't try.
Later, when Eddie is sprawled on the floor of his room, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about Steve's stupid combination of Metal and Jock, he'll be struck by a sudden, consuming thought. What if Steve was wearing just the Iron Maiden shirt? What if he wore just the jacket?
Eddie swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, his mouth going dry as he scrambles to his feet and gets ready to take a very, very cold shower.
----
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