#the first two fits like wow he does it all for me man

[bxeckersz]

I could be a better boyfriend than him | Paige Bueckers x Female Reader

summary: Paige and y/n are bestfriends and y/n is going through problems with her boyfriend and Paige shows her that she could treat her better

warnings: Language, p eating (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), cheating

a/n: i’m not that good at writing smut so i hope this is good 😭.

“I could be a better boyfriend than him. I could do the shit that he never did. Up all night, I won’t quit thinking i’m gonna steal you from him. I could be such a gentleman. Plus all my clothes would fit.”

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“He just- i don’t know. He’s really jealous of you for some reason.” I tell paige, popping a piece of popcorn in my mouth.

Me and Paige are having a sleepover like we used to. I don’t even know how we got on the topic of my boyfriend but- we’re here.

“of me?” Paige says, her tone surprised and cocky at the same time. “Yeah- i don’t know. He always says i’m sneaking around with you” I roll my eyes.

“Wow” Paige chuckles. “yup” I bite the inside of my cheek. “Is that why you guys always argue” Paige says, turning over on her side.

“Yeah” I sigh.

“It’s like he can’t trust me. I mean- Every time we argue he pretty much walks out on me. I don’t know. He’s just…”

“Well-“ Paige starts. “Hm?” I ask, motioning for her to go on. “Does he make you cum like I did” Paige asks, her tone raspy and low.

Me and Paige had sex two times.

The first time was in high school.

The second time was in our junior year of college.

Both times were unexpected- but God did it feel good.

“I- well-“ I purse my lips together. Truth is, I only came once with him.

“Well?” Paige asks. “I- no.. well- i’ve only came once with him.” I bite my lip. “Oh” Paige says, licking her lips.

I chuckle a little. “What?” Paige asks, raising her brows. “Nothing. it’s just- he can’t make me feel how you did.” I reply, looking at her up and down.

“Oh really?” Paige remarks, her tone low and husky. “mhm”

“I can make you feel better than any man.” Paige laughs, her tone cocky.

“Yeah right.”

“I could show you better than I could tell you.” Paige adds, her tone seductive and cocky.

“Maybe you need to show me then.” I add, putting the bowl of popcorn on my nightstand.

“I don’t have a problem with that.” Paige says, her eyes going from my eyes to my lips. “He doesn’t have to know” She whispers, moving closer to my lips.

“Okay” I whisper back, kissing her. Her hands instantly fly up to my waist, pulling me closer.

“Gonna make you feel so good” She mumbles, moving down to my neck. I let out a shaky breath, attaching my hand to her head.

“Take it off” Paige mutters, tugging at my shirt and shorts. “mhm” I nod, pulling the two items of clothes off.

“Beautiful” She whispers, kissing me as she unhooks my bra. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful” She says, attaching her pink lips to my breasts.

“fuck” I breathe out. she chuckles, moving downwards.

“Paige-“ I breathe out. “Stop teasing me” I groan, growing impatient. Her finger move down to my clothed pussy, rubbing small circles.

“So wet already, hm?” She teases, looking up at me. “Paige.” I let out a small whimper. She slides my panties down, earning an impatient moan.

“So pretty” She mutters, attaching her fingers to my slick, rubbing slowly. “fuck” I moan out quietly.

“So impatient” She mumbles, slowly sliding her fingers into me. “Oh, shit.” I moan

“Feel good, hm?” She teases, moving her fingers. “So good.” I moan, throwing my head back. Her fingers plunge in and out of me slowly.

“Faster. please, go faster” I moan, my breath hitching. “Whatever you want” She says, moving her fingers faster. “Oh, fuck.” I groan, gripping onto her arm.

“Paige. fuck- feels so good.” I moan, arching my back. “No man could ever make you feel like this. No man.” She remarks, plunging her fingers deeper inside of me.

“Mhm. Fuck, right there” I moan as she hits the right spot.

“You look so pretty like this” She spits out, repeatedly hitting the same spot.

“Fuck. so close” I moan. Im an instant she pulls her fingers out. “Dude? What the fuck?” I say, catching my breath.

She looks up at me with a smirk as she attaches her lips to my plump pussy. “Oh my God.” I moan, tangling my hands in her hair.

Her tongue flicks against my clit, causing a string of pornographic moans to leave my mouth.

“fuck!” I moan out, bucking my hips against her face.

“Tastes so good” She mumbles against me, looking up. “Right there. mhm.” I moan, throwing my head back.

“So close. Don’t stop. shit.” I moan, Shamelessly bucking my hips against her face.

She holds my thighs, moving her tongue faster. “Cum for me.” She mutters.

Her words caused me to let go, cumming all over her face. “Fuck!” I moan, gripping the sheets. She moves my thighs, helping me through my orgas am.

“Oh my God.” I breathe out as she pulls her head up.

“I could fuck you better than any man. Always remember that.”

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Thanks for reading all the way through!

[lilylovestowrite]

We all know that Aventurine's love language is definitely gift giving! So I would like to request aventurine spoiling his s/o with so much money and gifts. At first reader was thankful and also flustered with all of the gifts he provided for her, but later reader started to become annoyed cause he's been spoiling them too much, so one day they decided to text aventurine about this matter. They only just called his name and he already thought that they needed money so he sent the money. Reader was surprised at first but then got annoyed and decided to scold him in the chat (to which aventurine didn't take them seriously and even teases them, finding amusement with his lover's anger) make this a playful banter between the two and at the end, aventurine decided to meet up with them to pamper them, but this time, with affection ✨

MUST BE FUNNY, IN A RICH MAN'S WORLD ୨♡୧

PAIRING ୨♡୧ (Aventurine x GN! Reader)

WARNINGS ୨♡୧ None

SYNOPSIS ୨♡୧ You decide to confront your boyfriend over his overzealous spending habits. 

WORD COUNT ୨♡୧ 1.4k

A/N ୨♡୧ Thank you for the request! I love Aventurine SO MUCH. I want to hold him and cherish him but I think he deserves to be thrown down a flight of stairs because he’s such a brat. I am so normal about this man.

Divider by @/cafekitsune

‘I saw you eyeing this crystal swan the other day. When you and I get married, I’ll buy the whole store and decorate our venue with them if it’s to your liking- Kakavasha’

You are going to kill your boyfriend. 

You are going to kill your boyfriend over a Swarovski Swan on your bedside table. And thirty bottles of the same Dior perfume you wore once around him. And every piece of designer clothing he’s gifted you. And that one time he rented out a whole cruise ship just to play tag with you over a moonlit river. Well, perhaps not the last one. You liked the idea, the execution? A little overkill.

But this? Overkill can’t even begin to explain how much Aventurine has been spending on you recently. Just before you started dating, he would regularly spoil you with large bouquets of your favourite flowers and a few lovely pieces of jewellery. It was sweet at first: you remember blushing and hiding your flustered face behind your palm, only for him to kiss your hand and usher it away. “Stop, you look super cute when you’re flustered,” he’d say, but now, a deep pit of shame hollows the joy out of every gift he gives you. He gives, and gives, and spoils you, but what do you have to offer? 

You do appreciate his gestures, and it feels lovely to be kitted out in the finest gossamer, or the softest of silks. The aroma of expensive perfume smells less chemical-ly and manufactured compared to your old bottles. There isn’t a day that goes by where your flower vases in your house aren’t filled with high-end flowers. It’s affection, sure, but, you wish he didn’t feel as if your love is something to be bought. 

With Aventurine, you have to be careful with your communication. He may play off other people’s rude comments about his origin or his affiliation with the IPC. Other people’s opinions don’t matter. But you know how much he cherishes you, and you don’t fit into the bracket of ‘other people’. If you seem too dismissive of his efforts, you fear that he may feel rejected. Picturing his sad face drooping makes you only want to let him coddle you, but you can’t allow this to happen anymore. You ponder your text carefully, before hitting send. 

You: 

Kakavasha. 

Peacock <3: 

My love? 

Are you upset with me?

I’m so sorry, let me handle it. 

Oh, wow. That was a quick fix. You sigh in relief and put your phone down, allowing yourself to get more comfortable in the covers. Another ping erupts from your phone, and the notification nearly makes you turn around and sob. 

Peacock <3 has sent you 1,000,000 Credits

You: 

STOP SENDING ME MONEY

I’M NOT YOUR SUGAR BABY FFS 

So much for being ‘careful with your communication’, but 1,000,000 credits is insanity! Does he think he can buy you off? You sigh and watch the text bubbles load as he types. 

Peacock <3:

Darling, what do you mean?

I want to spoil you! 

And if I’ve done something wrong, I’ll make it up to you!

You:

Then. Maybe. ASK

‘What’s wrong?’

BEFORE SENDING ME A SHITLOAD OF CREDITS

Peacock <3:

What’s wrong, angel? 

You reread your messages and realise how aggressive you're coming off, so you decide to talk to him face to face. Surely, his suave tongue and pretty face won't distract you from the matter at hand. Right?

You:

Let’s call.

You have started a call with Peacock <3

“Kakavasha, stop sending me money!” You hiss the second he picks up the phone. It’s the early morning, and hues of liquid sunlight paint your lover’s skin in light gold. Streaks of light coming through the blinds of his window shine through his gorgeous eyes, turning them translucent like opalescent marble. Aventurine gives you a tiny lopsided grin, the same one that creeps onto his face when he’s plotting something, and you don’t like it one bit. “

“How else am I supposed to show my adoration for you?” His silken, honeyed voice echoes through the phone. You have to stop yourself from giggling at his lovely voice, the cadence rising and falling masterfully, all perfectly orchestrated to let you listen to him instead of arguing. 

But you don’t take the bait yet. 

“I don’t know, maybe spend time with me?” You reply, but you can’t conceal the blush on your face when you realise that he’s only just woken up. His light blond hair is tousled and one of the cat cakes stretches on his lap. Although Aventurine dresses to impress, it’s the domesticated, sweet mornings where he truly shines. 

“I do spend time with you. We went to see the Opera just three nights ago!”

“Without money being spent, Kakavasha. I want a simple, romantic date. No renting out hotels, no extravagant jewellery, and no mariachi band like that one time-” 

“In my defence, I was completely wasted-” He interjects, giggling softly at the memory of planning a lovely beach date after consuming wine like water, and then ordering a band on a whim.

“You were barely awake, I drew a moustache on you.” You muse. Watching Aventurine’s face morph into an angry pout, like a kitten, makes you emit an ugly laugh. 

“That was you?” He gasps, clutching his heart with faux sorrow. Dramatically falling back on his black pillow, his golden locks are spread. Aventurine’s half lidded gaze and light pink blush makes you want to crawl into bed next to him and trace patterns into his hands, and his lovely eyes would-

“Don’t distract me from the matter at hand! Please stop spending on me, sweetheart. I’m not saying I don’t like your love, I want it! Just not in such an excessively materialistic way, you know?” 

This comment breaks Aventurine’s suave attitude. He blinks at you through the camera, positively perplexed. His eyes are wide and shocked, resembling that of a deer tasting cardboard. “H-how else am I supposed to show my love for you?” 

“Well, how do I show my love for you?”

Aventurine’s eyes look up, trying to recall: “You hold my hands,” he lists one on his fingers,  “listen to me when I speak, you support me through hard times,” he smiles warmly at you, flashing a toothy grin that makes his nose scrunch up cutely, bring back pebbles that remind you of me…” A devious smirk makes its way into his face and you prepare yourself to interject: “and you bite my as-” 

“Enough!” You reprimand him, but your tone is soft. “See? I don’t buy things for you to feel loved. You’re much more than a bank, even if other people don’t make you feel that way.” Suddenly bashful, Kakavasha looks away from you. Perhaps unused to such affections, he hugs the cat cake on his lap closer to his chest. 

“I just want to give you the best of the best.” He replies defensively, and you sigh softly.

“You are the best of the best, Kakavasha.” 

“Then,” his voice cracks in an attempt to hide his shyness, “let’s meet up at your place. Let’s stay inside and watch a movie? I hear that’s a popular date idea.” 

“Perfect. My door is open, we can do face masks and-” The call is interrupted by one of the cat cakes jumping on his head, causing him to tumble off the bed and clutch onto the sheets for stability. Instead, his finger hits the end call button. You giggle softly. For all of his cocky displays, Aventurine, at his truest form, is just a little bit of a dork. 

Said dork knocks at your door, dressed in a lovely black dress shirt and his white pants. You suddenly feel a little self conscious, in your bunny slippers and oversized dress shirt. But the way he hugs you and lifts you off the ground slightly for a kiss, it makes you feel like a national treasure. You waddle your way onto the couch, still hugging, and collapse into the plush cushions.

“So, what movie are we feeling today?” Aventurine pulls a blanket over the two of you, and your eyes brighten with an idea. “The Great Gatsby?” 

“Mm, tragic ending. No. Let’s hold that thought.” He leans over and gently pries the remote out of your hand. “Instead,” he kisses your nose and pushes you into the couch a little more, “let me show you even more ways I can show my affection for you.” He whispers, and captures your lips for a deep kiss…

[shouyuus]

popular host club host!keigo who's constantly the top 1 or 2 in his host club, so he's got a long roster of regulars, but one of them happens to be a good friend of yours who brings you in one day bc you're a bit naive and she thought it was about time you got out there in the world

host!keigo who is no stranger to shy little birdies, but still has a job to do, so he does his usual thing with your friend, asks about her part time job, compliments her new hairstyle, asks if she's gotten that one toner he recommended, before turning to you and offering you a smile and a wink, and is more charmed than a man in his profession should be at the way you turn red and refuse to meet his eyes

host!keigo who keeps it casual, wears relaxed, but chic street-style clothing and keeps his roots bleached well, but almost nothing else, except for the two slits of black he inks into his inner corners; says that they keep his eyes sharp so he can see all his favorite little birds at the club, of course. and suddenly, you can kinda see why your friend likes coming here so much -- the conversation is nice and he's never too pushy, but it's effortless, the way he talks about himself and gets everyone to talk about themselves as well.

host!keigo who's earnest when he asks you about your interest and feels himself smiling when you light up and talk about the things you love -- reading, painting, photography -- your friend cuts in that it's a shame you're too shy to ask him to be a model for one of your projects bc he does photograph really well, to which you blush even harder and keigo wonders briefly if there's something in the air or in the drinks today bc wow is he feeling just a tad lightheaded and from the looks of it so are you.

host!keigo who, when your friends goes to the bathroom, leans across the booth to hand you his card, just a black card with two bright red wings embossed onto the hard cardstock, runs a finger along the line of your cheek, tilts your chin up and says, "if you ever wanna come see me too... i'll make time for you, dove. all you gotta do is ask." but when u tell him, a little too honestly, that you can't afford him, he just looks at you with a little smirk and says "like i said, dove, i'll make time for you." and leaves it at that

host!keigo who texts you good morning and goodnight, who asks you if you've eaten, who, you're pretty sure, on his days off, pings you and asks you what you're doing. so you tell him that you don't have plans and he immediately calls to ask if you want to hang out -- he picks you up at the train station, wearing just a fitted black tee and some loose-fitted jeans, but even then, people are turning around, doing double takes, but he doesn't seem to notice, only grinning and jogging up to meet you, asking if there's anywhere you'd like to go

host!keigo who takes u to the aquarium and then to the park, where you do a few doodles in your notepad. he leans over to watch and even though your first instinct is to hide your work, you let him see it anyway -- something about him makes you want to trust him, and for once, you want to lean into that. he tells you that your art is beautiful, and you ask, before you can stop yourself, if you can draw him, "it'd be my honor, little bird."

host!keigo who makes you laugh by doing the most dramatic poses before leaning up against a tree and closing his eyes and you sketch him out, feeling your heart in your throat, but when you show him, he goes still and quiet, before asking if he can keep it. you nod and hand the sketch over, blushing bc he holds it like it's lost treasure, something he's spent his whole life looking for --

host!keigo who takes you to dollar karaoke, claps and laughs as you try to sing the current idol song, who is, unsurprisingly, fantastic at singing and tells you to pick your favorite song for him to serenade to you, who pays for all the drinks and never asks you to shell out a time; when you try to get the last round, he gently pushes your hand away and says "not today, little bird, i wanna do this so... let me."

host!keigo who, when you ask him if he does this with all his clients, bends down and flicks a bit of hair from your face before his eyes flicker down to your lips, says, "no... only the ones i really, really like."

host!keigo who offers to walk you back to the station but when you get there, he seems hesitant to say something -- when you gently ask about it, he lets out a tiny little laugh, shakes his head and says, "y'know it's weird -- all these years of being a host... i've never felt like this before but... you just -- god, how embarrassing, right? my whole job is to be good at talking to people and here i am, at a loss for words --" he pauses, runs a hand through his hair before turning back towards you with an earnest smile, "guess what im trying to say is... i spend all day tryna make people feel like they're special, like they're the only person in the entire world but... with you... it's the first time someone's made me feel like that and... i kinda wanna be selfish, be greedy and take you somewhere and keep you all to myself but..."

host!keigo who thinks he might be losing his mind when you smile up at him with that brilliant blush of yours and tell him that "if that's what you wanted... i wouldn't mind... if it were you."

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 3

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

CW: POV depiction of dissociation, medication administered without explicit consent, mineral water, slightly altered state of consciousness (debatable), Simon Riley's Canonically Large Body

You lose time. There’s nothing for it. Everything gets flat and distant. Every now and again, you gain lucidity and catch details. The thick pile of the carpet beneath your bare feet. The belt loop you have two fingers looped into, and the fact that there are so many loops and pockets for you to choose from. Being carried for a bit until you can be deposited into a vehicle. Someone gives you pills, maybe four of them, and it takes you two gulps of water to swallow them.

An indeterminate amount of time later, you start coming back to yourself in fits and starts. It’s not a surprise when your teeth start chattering, but it does suck. All at once, every single one of your muscles file a complaint about locking up for hours and then sleeping on the floor. The room around you goes from fuzzy to nothing but sharp and loud edges in a split second. And, of course, the dehydration headache. You squeeze your eyes shut.

Something cold and wet is pressed into your hand and then guided to your mouth - a bottle of water. Your nose scrunches. Why do Europeans like mineral water? It barely tastes like water. But you drink it because you’re so thirsty it hurts.

“Slowly,” a deep voice rumbles above you.

You almost choke when you look up. The man standing over you is Simon, not the skull-faced Ghost, except that he’s neither and both. Even having had video sessions with him before, you’d assumed that most of his bulk you had seen today had been gear. Like an owl. But no, he’s really just that tall and broad. The shape of his jaw is familiar, though, just like his heavy brows and the bump in the bridge of his nose.

Without thinking, you reach out and touch his left arm. You almost expect the faded tattoos to twist away from your fingertips. Instead, Simon turns his arm so you end up caressing the inside of his elbow, skin soft and delicate and warm.

“Eyes up, Bambi,” Simon rumbles.

When you try to snatch your hand back, he catches your wrist. His hand is large and hot, and you realize all of a sudden that you’ve touched each other for the first time. His fingers are thick and blunt, and his nails are unkempt. He has a hangnail on his middle finger and scars across his knuckles.

“Eyes up,” he rumbles, again, sounding amused.

Your heart races as your eyes follow the line of his arm, the way his shirt barely fits around his bicep. The curve of his pectoral and the way his chest expands as he breathes. Your gaze gets caught on hollow of his throat and again on the thickness of his neck and the shape of his jaw. But finally, you meet his eyes.

You’ve seen a man before, you’ve seen Simon before. With his shirt off, even! There’s no reason that just meeting his eyes should make you breathless. But you can’t help it, you stop breathing as he holds your gaze.

“’Ello, beautiful,” he purrs, his other hand coming up to envelop yours around the bottle of water. You’re not a small woman, but wow, your hand feels small in his grip. “C’n you sip slowly for me?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. He’s fucking huge. Maybe it’s the shock, but he’s all you can see in that moment. (Is it subspace? No, but it damn sure feels like it.) And he’s touching you, finally. Finally. That’s insane. He’s supposed to be across an entire ocean, but he’s here and he saved you and he’s touching you. You’d do anything he wants.

“Drink,” he reminds you, and his hand stops you from pouring the whole bottle over yourself in your haste to follow his command. “Slowly, Bambi, there’s a good girl. Slow sips, two at a time. C’n you do that?”

Yeah, you think, holding eye contact as you bring the bottle back to your mouth. The mineral taste shocks you back into your body, again. Again. You drank some of this before. Someone gave you pills. Your body should hurt a lot more than it does, shouldn’t it? A knot of worry starts between your shoulder blades. And then Simon’s hand slides up your arm, coming to rest against the side of your neck. His finger tips brush over the bumps of your spine and you realize. Oh. He wouldn’t let anything happen to me.

“Ibuprofen?” you ask, lowering the bottle.

He hums an affirming note. “Said your back was hurtin’, so I had the paramedics give you some.”

I love you, you think, not for the first time, but you’re sipping again so you can’t embarrass yourself by saying it.

Another voice makes you jump and almost spit your water. “Bambi, aye? Where'd'ye find this bonnie girl, LT?”

You’re clinging to Simon before you know you’re moving. One arm around his lower back, the other clinging to one of his tree-trunk thighs. You’d be more embarrassed about burying your face into his side if Simon hadn’t pivoted to put himself more between you and the rest of the room. The hand on the back of your neck gives you a gentle squeeze.

“’S not really your business, is it?” Simon answers. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, Soap.”

“’M just curious,” the man called Soap says. When you peek at him, he’s is at the table of what looks like a mid sized hotel suite. You recognize the mohawk, but now that you’re not as imminently panicked, you realize how blue Soap’s eyes are. He’s casually dressed, jeans and a brown tee shirt. Very different from when you last saw him.

“Aw,” he coos when he sees you looking. “There she is.”

You take in the room so that you don’t have to see him looking at you. You’re on a little armchair between a couch and a desk. There’s a hall to the right, which you assume leads to the entrance to the suite. Another door opens into a bedroom, where you can see white sheets.

“Leave ‘er, Soap,” another voice says, and then another man, Price, the Captain, comes through that doorway with his own bottle of water. You almost don’t recognize him without his hat. Did he have all of that facial hair before? He gives you a nod and half smile before addressing Simon. “Laswell says things’ve calmed down. We have to go confirm the report. Bambi’s free to go back to the hotel if she wants.”

“Not likely,” Simon scoffs before you can protest. “She can stay ‘ere.”

“She’ll need her stuff,” Price points out. “Want to send the boys to collect it?”

Three fingers tap the back of your neck. You’d always wondered if that signal that he’s taking a moment to think was just for kink scenes. It’s comforting to realize that maybe it isn’t. Simon is a man who stops to think, and maybe so is this Ghost.

“’Ll go get ‘em,” Simon says, after a minute. “Got some other things to grab while ‘m out.”

Out? “Out?”

He looks down at you with another squeeze to the back of your neck. “Out. Cap and I got to check in, ‘n I’ll get y’r stuff. Figured you’d prefer not to go back.”

“Don’t leave me.” The words are out before you can bite it back. You blanch and pull away from him. Well, you try, wrapping your arms around yourself instead of him, but he still has a hand cupping the base of your skull. “I mean- That’s- I know it’s your job. I can- I’ll be okay going back to my hotel. Or staying here? God, you probably have a lot to do, I should-”

“Drink,” Simon interrupts, putting the water bottle you’d lost track of back into your hand. “Finish this. Slow sips, two at a time. Acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged,” you answer, automatically, as you lift the bottle to your lips. “Slow, two sips at a time. All of it.”

“Good girl.” He folds down into a crouch in front of you. You take an extra sip in self defense, because wow that’s a lot of man. There’s a whole other, third person that you hadn’t been able to see around him, sitting at the table with Soap. But Simon’s staring into your eyes, so you can’t get more than an impression of the room around you before you’re caught in his orbit again. “Y’r staying here with me. ’M not takin’ you back to the other hotel. ‘M gonna get your stuff. You unpacked, yeah?”

You nod, looking down at your hands so you can concentrate on what he’s saying instead of the urge to kiss the the scars on his cheek.

“Don’t want anyone else going through your things,” he says. “So ‘m gonna get all ‘f it. ‘Nd then I’ll come back with food. Y’re gonna give me your keycard, finish the water, ‘n watch somethin’ easy on the TV while you do your stretches. Acknowledge.”

“Key card, water, TV and yoga,” you say, chancing a glance back at his face. Bad idea. You fumble the key card from your pocket, surprised you still have it, and hand it over. The way his eyes crinkle with his smile makes you want to slide down into the space between his thighs to hide from the rest of the world. “Acknowledged. But-” You chew your lip. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Soap ‘n Gaz’ll stay with you. You don’t have to talk to them if you don’t want to. Hold up four fingers and they’ll leave you alone. Show me.” His big hand rubs your knee when you comply. “This is the last thing ‘ve got to do for work. When I come back, it’s just me ‘n you. Green?”

“Super green.” Someone snorts a laugh, but you ignore it. “You’ll come back?”

“’M comin’ back. Don’t want to leave.” His hand slides up the outside of your thigh, until he’s gripping your hip. You’re dizzy with a sudden flush of warmth when he leans in to whisper. “The next time I have you in my arms, ‘m not letting go for a long time.”

Yep, you need the water. “TV and stretches,” you squeak. “Acknowledged.”

“That’s my girl,” he rumbles. He stands, glancing his lips against your forehead as he does. “Gonna give you a reward for bein’ so good today. Tell one of the boys what you want to eat, ‘ll bring it on the way back.”

[taehyunismm]

ATEEZ'S FAVORITE THINGS ABOUT YOU ! (HYUNG LINE)

A/N: lol this is my first work after being on a longggggggg writing hiatus! (like two years) I honestly hope this doesn't flop but at the same time..you never know what’ll happen LMFAO just sit back and enjoy

cw: kys/kms jokes, cursing, some nsfw content (only for yunho and yeosang)

✰ HONGJOONG !

oh he loves how soft your hands are all the time

he will literally take your hands and rub your hands all over his face forcefully because he loves how they smell and how smooth they are.

"what are you doing..?" you say as he grabs your phone out your hand and starts rubbing his head all over your hands.

"im so sorry i just love the scent of your hands." he says giving the palm of your hands small lazy kisses.

"umm..okay you do your thing joongie!" you say as you play with his hair.

oh and do not get me started on his love for your hair.

he literally loves how soft your hair feels and how good it smells

he'll ask to put your hair in braids as an excuse to get close to your hair and smell it.

"okay what is up with you?" you can feel a big head coming in behind you.

"oh..im sorry my girlfriends hair just smells amazing!" he says twirling the ends of your hair.

"youre so weird but i love you."

oh he is OBSESSED with the way your body curves.

whenever you wear any kind of dress that fits your curves perfectly and really makes them noticeable he will go fucking INSANE.

he'll start stuttering throughout his sentences while your just staring at him confused on why hes so nervous with you in that outfit.

"i-i wow..?" hongjoong wipes his drool from his bottom lip turning back to reality.

"gosh do i look bad or something? pfft..im going to change youre making me annoyed." you say running your fingers through your hair and walking back to your closet.

"NO! i mean..no. you look..great! im just getting..flustered." he can feel his cheeks heating up after every word that comes out his mouth."

girl what the fuck

okay maybe hes right..you do look great and out of this world.

"okay..? anyways..lets just go, we're taking my car." you say throwing the keys to hongjoong as he catches them and follows behind you.

✰ SEONGHWA !

oh this man loves your eyes

he always finds some excuse to justify why hes staring at you

always asking to put your contacts in so he can admire how pretty your eyes are.

"pleaseee can i put them in?" he begs literally getting on his knees infront of the bathroom.

"i said no. im putting on my glasses today." you say while cleaning your lenses.

"but babyyy!" he says giving you a tight back hug and resting his chin on your shoulder while pouting.

"you are the biggest crybaby ive ever met."

he loves how competitive you are when it comes to games because its funny to watch when you rage quit

when you two were playing roblox obbys together you got mad that you accidently broke your laptop screen because you slammed it too hard.

"im going to literally fucking kill myself if you get to the end before me seonghwa." you say spamming your space button as many times as you can to avoid the red laser. you take a look at seonghwas screen since he was awfully quiet and you saw that he was already flying over the whole map with his stupid fucking rainbow trail.

"YOU FUCKER!" you say exiting out the game and slamming your screen down..and that does not end up well. you open your screen back up and your whole screen is shattered.

you start to tear up as you can hear seonghwas devilish laugh in the background.

"im calling apple care im not doing this right now.." you say taking out your phone and dialing their number for apple care waiting for them to pick up.

✰ YUNHO !

he is horribly obsessed with your face

like literally everything about your face weirdly turns him on

"please dont look at me like that i think im about to bust a nut in my pants." he says putting a pillow over on his lap.

"eww youre gross!" you say jokingly pushing him.

he wraps you in his arms and brings you on top of him cuddling you to death.

"could i get a kiss my pretty girl?" he says pouting and looking into your eyes with puppy eyes. you roll your eyes and scoff at the sudden question.

"fine." you say connecting your lips to yunhos while running your fingers through his soft hair, he slowly moves his hands to grip your ass squeezing it softly as you grind slowly on his clothed boner.

he groans softly in your mouth pulling away from the kiss and looking you up and down.

"gosh you are so beautiful, i fucking love how long your lashes are and how cute your lips are." he says softly caressing your cheeks as you put on your cheesy smile and burry your head in the crook of his neck.

✰ YEOSANG !

he loves when you cuddle him !

as you two are about to go to bed you both don't sleep with clothes on..really only panties for you and hes just wearing his boxers.

he really does love skin ship when it comes to sleeping with you

he likes to tightly hug you from the back whenever your mad at him and don't really want to look him in the eyes for the night.

oh and when your horny..he gets horny.

you rub your ass on his cock on purpose to see how he reacts even though you get the same reaction everytime you do it. he roughly pinches your nipples making you moan in pain.

"you bitch! that hurt!" you say turning around to him pouting. he laughs in your face as he caresses your hair.

"well your the one that wants to be bad. do you really want to test my waters right now?" you look him in the eyes with a smirk and tilt your head.

"do i sir?" you say smashing your lips onto his in an instant.

anddd the rest in most definitely up to your imagination! LMFAOO have fun!!

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + three

authors note: wow! omg, thank you all so much for the kind words of support for this story! it really does mean a lot to me, cause i know the content is pretty heavy.

also, if anyone has read the acotar series, i imagine the dynamic between roman and the twins to be a bit similar to the bat boys. and yes, we'll def see more of the twins moving forward.

in addition, if you want to be tagged, you have to explicitly ask as such. the last thing i want to do is tag someone i thought wanted to be tagged and didn't, and they end up triggered. :(

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: language, violence against women, trauma responses (nightmares/night terrors), hints at suicidal thoughts, references to traumatic past

song inspo: 'looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

words: 9k

Roman doesn’t come back until the wee hours of the morning, and he’s out the house again before the sun is even up.

Solana knows all of this because she doesn’t sleep that night.

It’s not for lack of trying. She spends nearly two hours twisting and turning before finally accepting that sleep isn’t in the cards for her. She instead finds herself sitting on the floor of her bathroom, door locked, writing away in her journal. No letter to mom this time, just pure word vomit, all of her thoughts and feelings about everything that’s transpired. 

There’s as many tears as there are words, and like always post–writing, she feels a tad bit better. The best and only release she ever has is in her written word, all of the things she could never say aloud, melted from her head and sealed into paper.

When she’s done writing, Solana opts to read a book in her Kindle Library. Doing so makes her realize that she still doesn’t have her stuff from back home. It’s not that she has a lot, but the items she was told to pack just for the first few nights will only last just that—for a few days.

But, Solana doesn’t think it’s a good idea to ask Roman about that. She doesn’t think it’s a good idea to ask him for anything, not after she’s clearly and understandably upset him. She’ll just….she’ll just have to make do until it's noticed she's essentially living out of a suitcase. 

And Solana has a thought, an idea, that getting up early to fix him breakfast could be a good thing, something to tame his anger toward her. It’s the least that she can do.

But one look around Roman’s massive kitchen indicates he’s every bit the stereotypical bachelor. There’s only a couple of ingredients, not enough of anything to make an actual meal. There’s also a lot of “meal prep” meals, which makes sense. She can imagine he’s insanely strict with his diet and fitness. One can’t look like Roman Reigns without an intense amount of focus and dedication.

It makes her wonder just what kind of dietary restrictions and preferences she’ll have to learn about him to make meals that he can actually consume. Another question she needs to ask but doesn’t know how or when considering he already has very little to no interest in having anything to do with her.

It’s another thing she knows she’ll have to figure out but tries her best to focus on anything else besides the fact that she’s now married to a man who can’t stand her, the same man her family wants her to somehow assassinate.

Yes…..other things is a much better seat filler.

Solana briefly wonders how she’s going to get to work considering her car is still back at her dad’s house, but just when she’s considering calling an Uber, she’s met in the living room of Roman’s massive estate by none other than his right hand man and cousin.

Solo Sikoa 

All he says is, “ready?” And she realizes that this is how she’s to get to work, that he is to escort her. Him and another set of large men, guards as she realizes. A separate set of guards, not the ones who roam and patrol Roman’s mansion. 

Being around so many men….it’s a different kind of experience. Leaning more on the side of uncomfortable than anything. 

But, she’s at least a bit more at ease when Solo only opens the door to the back of the SUV and doesn’t join in, instead sitting in the passenger seat.

She's grateful for that.

Solo is almost the same exact person as his cousin. Large, strong, stoic and scary as hell. The only difference is that she’s not sure Solo is capable of sentences that include more than 1 to 3 words.

It’s obvious he’s not thrilled about being assigned as her personal guard, and she can’t blame him. There can’t be anything exciting about watching her boring life and making sure nothing happens to her during said boring life.

But Solana can’t deny there’s a small part of her that feels a small sense of comfort at having someone to look out for her. Even if she partially questions his loyalty to said job. Something happening to her wouldn’t do anything to anybody. At all. 

She’d just….cease to exist.

And lately….that hasn’t seemed like the worst thing ever. 

But, it’s when she arrives at work, goes into her office to start to prepare for the work day only to find her brother already waiting that that comfort is obliterated.

“Sis.” Wes' smile is tight and inauthentic, his eyes darting between her and Solo. “Sorry to scare you. I was just hoping we could talk.”

Talk….

Wes never wants to talk to her, not unless it’s him berating and screaming while he beats the shit out of her. 

“Alone.” He gives Solo a faux sympathetic expression. “Family things….you understand, I’m sure.”

Solana doesn’t know if Solo understands or he doesn’t, but she does know that Wes' kind and friendly tone is all smoke and mirrors. She knows he’s pissed that he didn’t catch her off-guard, didn’t catch her alone, that he couldn’t corner her like he always does.

And for a second, Solana believes she’s safe, knows that Solo won’t let Wes lay a hand on her. It’s….it’s his job to keep her safe, right?

But just as that hope is present, it’s extinguished by the reality she knows is inescapable. Solo won’t be with her 24/7. She won’t be protected forever. She’ll eventually be around both Wes and her father alone. And the price she’ll have to pay for denying him in this moment….

It’s not worth it. 

Roman’s words to her father about not touching her are nice in theory, but she knows better. Xavier Miller does what he wants, regardless of what’s said and by who.

“O–of course,” Solana mumbles, fingers dancing at the side of her pants. She turns to Solo. “Please….give us a few minutes.”

For the first time since she’s met him, Solo actually shows some type of emotion. It still stems from anger, maybe a branch of irritation, but it's still something different. “Tribal Chief said I’m supposed to watch you, so that’s what I do.”

She swallows. This is going to require a level of assertiveness that’s almost foreign if not non-existent. “I–I understand, but….Wes is my brother. He—” It’s almost impossible for her to even get the words out. “He would never hurt me.”

Solana almost immediately wants to vomit. That’s all this man has ever done. 

At least since the murder of their mother. 

Solo is struggling but wavering, she can see as much, so she continues. “It’s okay,” she assures, even mustering up a small smile. “Please….just a couple minutes. I won’t—I won’t say anything to Roman.”

Solo still looks torn but eventually agrees, leaving her alone with one of two men who hate her most on this earth. 

The door is barely closed when Wes has her pinned against the wall, hand slapped over her mouth, a knife pressed to the base of her throat.

“You stupid bitch, don’t think for one second that being married to Reigns changes shit,” he snarls. “He doesn’t give a fuck about you. He just doesn’t like people messing with his possessions.”

Solana knows all of this, knows that anything Roman may do that seems to be for her benefit is just him asserting his dominance. She doesn’t need to be reminded of this. 

“Wes, you’re hurting me.” She suddenly feels so stupid saying that, telling him what he already knows. Of course, he is. That’s the whole point. Still, she stupidly believes she can plead to whatever humanity is left in him. If any. “P–please.”

“Shut up,” he hisses, shoving her head against the wall. Solana winces quietly, mindful of Solo who stands outside the door because of her. Because she told him to, because she welcomed this violence onto herself.

“Reigns told dad you won’t be available for a couple weeks, so I suggest you start doing what you need to do to change that. We need to be able to communicate with you.”

This startles her. Why would Roman say that? Did Roman say that? Wes is a master manipulator, and she doesn’t put it past him to be playing mind games.

“I—I don’t know what you want me to do.” And it’s true. Solana has no idea what to do in any of this, how she’s supposed to kill a man who’s more or less impossible to kill, how she’s supposed to win his favor when it’s obvious she already annoys him. It’s all so confusing and overwhelming.

“Did you fuck him last night?”

It’s a question she hoped no one would ask, didn’t believe would be asked because there’s no one who would care enough except for Roman himself.

And while Solana knows being dishonest with her brother won’t turn out well, in this moment, she doesn’t know how he’ll respond if she tells the truth.

So, she lies. She lies to live to see another day, for what reason, she doesn't know. It’s not as if any other day will provide her some sense of solace or security. But, it’s just what she does. 

“Y–yes.”

Wes looks understandably pleased. “Good.” She gaps in fear when he drags his knife against her skin, gently trailing it across, just light enough to avoid drawing blood. “That’s all you’ve ever been good for us for anyway.”

A frown falls upon her face. What….what does that mean?

“Just keep contact open, you understand?” No, she doesn’t, but she has no choice but to pretend that she does. Nodding, Wes shoves her into the wall one more time at an angle that causes her shoulder to take the impact. Wincing, she holds onto it as he releases her and walks out the door. “Don’t fuck this up, Solana.”

Easier said than done. Much easier said than done. 

It’s when he leaves her alone that the tears pool in her eyes. But, it’s when Solo walks in, studying her that she sniffles and wipes at her eyes. “I–I’m fine.”

She’s not.

She’s far from fine. 

————

The day ends up slightly, maybe even moderately, improving. It’s to be slightly expected though as it’s Monday, the day that Solana runs her reading club with the younger kids. It’s always a highlight to see their bright, smiling faces, answering all of their fifty million questions.

It’s a break from a very bleak reality that is her life, immersing herself in their world of pretend and minimal worries.

Sometimes, she finds herself a bit jealous. Jealous that they still have their innocence, that their view of the world hasn’t been painted in red and blood like hers.

But, it’s when Solana is in the back taking her break, journaling, that that improvement takes a deep dive. Because a single knock on the door is followed by the large intimidating frame of her husband entering her space. 

Naturally, her stomach knots. She hasn’t seen Roman since last night, since he helped and scolded her in the same brief timespan. She understands it though and doesn't entirely disagree with what he said.

She’s far from the perfect picture of mental stability. 

Swallowing, Solana stands up and opens her mouth to address him when his eyes go from her face to her wrist. Following his line of vision, she sees why. There’s a blueish/greenish obvious bruise starting to form, beyond that initial point of formation really. It's just a straight up, fully developed bruise.

Roman slowly walks over to her and reaches for her arm. Solana naturally tenses. He hesitates for a second but still takes her wrist, lifting it so that it's at her eye level but still close enough for him to assess. 

She closes her eyes and acts quickly to think of an excuse. “I—umm—”

“Who?”

His voice is quieter than she anticipated and as much as she wishes she doesn't know what he means, Solana knows exactly what he’s asking. She just doesn’t answer. 

“I’m only going to ask you this one time and one time only.” His brown eyes are burning into her as he perfectly enunciates each word. “Who fucking touched you?”

Solana winces at his tone but eventually answers. “Wes....”

Roman drops her hand, and Solana brings her arms to her chest, head dropped. 

He’s pissed. 

That seems to be the only emotion he experiences around her, because of her.

His nostrils are flared as he demands. “Where was Solo?” 

Making him wait for a response is clearly something that sets him off even more, so Solana does her best to answer in a timely manner. “I—I asked him to leave. Wes….Wes didn’t want him in the room.”

“Of course, he fucking didn’t. Why would you—” Roman pinches his nose. A day. It’s been less than 48 hours, only a day in, and this marriage shit already has him fucking stressed out. Being married to this damn girl is like having a fucking child to look after. “From now on, I don’t give a fuck what your idiot brother and poor excuse of a father tell you, you’re not to be alone with them.” Roman’s command is a lot easier said than done. Denying her father or brother has never done her any favors. Solana isn’t sure how to verbalize this to the man in front of her who’s already six different shades of annoyed. “I thought I made that clear to them at the wedding, but obviously, they need a reminder.”

Solana feels every bit the scolded child, murmuring a quiet, “I’m sorry…”

Roman looks at her, and for a slither of a second, maybe even less than that, he feels bad for her. Feels bad because it’s clearly not her fault that she’s so fucked up. With a dad and brother like Xavier and Wes, what chance did she have?

He then briefly wonders about her mother, wonders what the dynamic was like there. But that’s a short lived trail because his mind then goes to his own mother. 

And Roman can’t have that, can’t go down that road for a variety of reasons, reasons that may not be that different from Solana’s. 

“Send me your work schedule.” Redirection is always a good strategy. That and fucking. Obviously, only one is an option for the woman in front of him. 

Panic builds in Solana’s stomach. Why does he want that? Her mind starts to race, arriving at only negative conclusions. Does he want her to quit? That thought kills her. 

Working at the library is the highlight, the only highlight, of her days. She doesn’t know what she would do without that outlet. 

“It won’t get in the way of my duties to you.” Solana typically isn’t the one to advocate for herself. Ever. But this….she can’t lose this, and it scares her to think of what mental decline could happen if she does. Nothing good. That’s for certain. “I—I can get up early and–and make your breakfast and meal prep lunch. A–and I’ll make sure your dinner is ready too by the time you come home—”

Rubbing his temple, exasperated, Roman asks, “what are you talking about?”

She’s not above begging. In a pleading tone, she begs, “please don’t make me quit my job.”

Roman isn’t quite sure what to make of the fact that the most words he’s heard leave Solana’s mouth are practically her begging to keep her job. He can understand it though. He would bet that her only time away from her family was when she was at work. “You can work as little or as much as you want. I don’t care about that.”

His words create instant relief. “Oh–I’m sorry, I thought—”

Roman runs his hand over his face. “You don’t have to apologize for everything.”

“Sor—” Solana drops her head as he exhales. Loudly. It’s not even noon, and he’s already over and done with this damn day.

“What time do you get off today?”

Solana licks her lips, answering. “Three.”

“I’ll meet you then.”

He can see she wants to ask but has decided against it, most likely recognizing his irritation. “We need to get your stuff from that house.” 

And in the midst of her anxiety in this conversation, she finds a glimmer of hope. She’s thankful that this isn’t something she had to initiate to ask him about.  

Something tells her Roman doesn’t like being questioned a lot.

Or at all.

“O–okay.” Is the answer she finally settles on, not wanting to say too much, vowing, “I’ll make sure I’m done by 3pm sharp.”

On one hand, Roman enjoys and respects punctuality, but something tells him Solana’s is based more on fear than anything. “Whenever is fine.”

Nodding and pushing her hair behind her ear, Solana watches Roman walk over to the door, preparing to leave when he asks, “is your brother right handed or left handed?”

His question takes her off guard, and she doesn’t quite know why he’s asking this in the first place. “W-what?”

Roman clearly doesn’t like repeating himself, because his tone takes on an edge. “Is he right handed or left handed?”

Solana swallows. She’s made him mad. Again. “R–right.”

Without another question, he leaves. And once the door shuts, he snaps at Solo, demanding, “why the fuck did you leave her alone with him? I told you to watch her!”

Roman knows his cousin well enough to know that Solo is doing a brilliant job masking his embarrassment at his failure. “She said—”

“I don’t care what she says. You don’t answer to her. You answer to me. Understood?”

Solo keeps his head high, acknowledging, “yes, my Tribal Chief.” Roman wastes no time in exiting the library and entering the SUV waiting for him, slamming the door shut. He pulls out his phone, selecting one of his most recent contacts, hitting dial. 

Jey answers on the third ring, but he’s immediately yelling to someone else, “slam my door one more fucking time, Nicki, and see what happens!” Roman’s jaw clenches, another new source of irritation being presented to him. “Ayo, Uce, now’s not a good time—”

“I don’t care.” Roman’s hot headed cousin and his equally hot headed wife arguing is nothing special. The fight. They fuck. They make up. And do it all over again. It’s not pressing news or even news at all at this point. “The Miller boy. Send him a message. A clear message.”

“I’ve got—”

“Did you hear what I just said?” There must be something in the air or the water, because Roman having to repeat himself is fucking asinine. He speaks once, and everyone should jump immediately. The fact that that isn’t happening is only pissing him off more. “And his right hand…make sure it’s broken.”

Jey sighs on the other end of the phone. “Aight. Me and Jimmy will have it done by the end of the day.”

Roman ends the phone call before his cousin can feed him any more excuses. Head tilted back against the headrest, he tries to settle himself. This day so far has been nothing but inconvenience after inconvenience. 

There’s nothing that pisses him off more than having to repeat himself, having conversations extend longer than they should, and that’s all this day has been thus far. He’s had to over explain and reiterate himself more than Roman feels necessary. 

And the day isn’t even halfway over. 

He needs an outlet.

Roman switches apps, finding one of his more recent contacts and sending out a message. 

Roman: Come over tonight. 

As expected, her reply comes almost right away. 

Samantha: Lol. That didn’t take long.

Samantha: See you then.

————

Solana always struggles with a level of anxiety when entering the home she grew up in. For a myriad of reasons. Most, if not all, being completely valid. Nothing good has ever happened for her in that place. And more often than not, she’d barely be in the house for more than a couple of minutes before she was either being berated or beaten.

Usually both.

But this…..this is different. A lot different, because she’s not walking into hell alone, she’s walking along (behind) Bloodline guards and the 6’3, pure muscled leader of said Bloodline. 

Roman Reigns.

Who also happens to be her husband.

Playing around with the wedding ring on her finger, Solana tries again to remind herself that this is real, that she’s married, that she’s married to Roman Reigns of all people. 

The reality definitely hasn’t set in.

Roman is about to knock on the door again when it swings open. Solana naturally steps back, something Roman takes notice of.

Xavier looks pissed, his fiery gaze landing on her first, but just as quickly as it was present, it's gone, settling into an almost pleasant smile. Directed at Roman, of course.

“Tribal Chief,” he greets. Solana’s gaze is on the ground now, focused on her painted toes instead of the man before her who she’s certain would be unleashing hell on her if not for the multitude of much larger, much stronger men surrounding her. “I wasn’t expecting—”

“I don’t care,” Roman interrupts, voice reeking of indifference. “She needs to go get her stuff.”

“Oh.” Solana can only imagine the difficulty her father is having in not throwing a fit. “Well, we can arrange for it to be delivered—”

“No.”

She means more to think it than to say it, but that intention falls short, because she definitely says it aloud.

And most of her regrets it, but there’s a small slither that doesn’t.

Solana knows her father. She knows him very well. 

Roman has done nothing but piss him off from the very beginning of this whole ordeal, pushing and pushing him. And Solana has always been the object of her father’s anger, but Roman seems intent on making sure that doesn’t happen. 

That means he’ll have to get creative with his punishments.

If he can’t hurt her, he’ll go after the things she loves. 

The few items in that home that she holds near and dear, items that belonged to her mother.

She knows he would dispose of them all so that all that would be retrieved by the movers would be clothes.

And the thought of the only things she has of her mother being discarded like trash makes her sick to her stomach.

She can’t give him that opportunity. 

Looking up, she’s met with two sets of eyes on her. One indicating irritation and the other, curiosity. Swallowing, she stutters, “I’m sorry. I—”

“No.” Roman’s interruption is stark and to the point. “We’re already here. She gets it now.”

“But—”

“Move.”

Xavier’s jaw ticks, but he does as such, stepping to the side. Roman looks back at Solana, motioning for her to walk in. 

Instantly, she’s going to the key holder. She has to make sure she gets her mother’s stuff before anything. But, the key to the attic, the key that’s sat in the same spot since she was a girl, is suddenly missing.

Her stomach drops. 

Without hesitation, she turns to her dad, asking, “wh—where’s the key to the attic?”

Solana knows before he even says anything that she’s not going to like his answer. She just doesn't realize just how much she’s not going to like his answer.

“Oh, I put it in your old room on the dresser.” Solana’s chest is immediately tight, her stomach dropping. Xavier gives that sly smile and little shrug. “Figured there’d be some things you’d want to grab as well.”

It’s hard for Solana to not start crying right then and there, standing between her father and her husband. Two men who dislike her for very different reasons. 

And maybe dislike isn’t a strong enough word to describe the feeling her father has toward her. Because one has to have an inhuman level of vitriol toward another individual to put her in the situation he just did.

That room….Solana hasn’t been in that room in years and planned to never enter it again for as long as she lived. And he knows that. Knows that there’s nothing in there she wants. Knows that she’d rather walk on burning coal barefoot than enter that space of horrific memories and unspeakable horrors. 

“I–I—”

“Is something wrong?”

Roman, watching this whole exchange closely, is instantly annoyed. It’s obvious something is wrong, there’s some story with this old room of hers, because she looks just as terrified as she did last night. And something about this pisses him off all over again, because this man is still trying to defy his orders, still trying to find ways to inflict his torture without lifting a finger. 

“Where’s the room?” 

Solana doesn't expect that question to leave Roman’s mouth, but it instantly brings on another layer of dread. He doesn’t know why she can’t go in that room, and he can never know, but that not knowing is probably going to result in him pushing her to hurry up so they can get the hell out of here.

But, that doesn’t happen. He steps towards her dad and repeats in a calm voice. “Show me.” It’s then she realizes that he’s asking so he can retrieve this key for her.

And that confuses the mess out of her because why? He doesn't have to, doesn’t need to. It doesn’t benefit him in the slightest. 

So why?

But for Roman, it’s simple. He’ll take any opportunity presented to piss off this son of a bitch, and undermining every attempt Miller takes to mess with Solana presents an opportunity for Roman to assert his dominance. 

And it’s obvious by the pure terror that crosses Solana’s face that, for whatever reason, she has zero desire or even ability to enter this room. It does cross him a bit strange that she would have such a reaction to her childhood bedroom, something that typically holds special memories for people.

Until he enters said room. 

Immediately, there’s a darkness about the aura, something heavy and unsettling that he can’t necessarily describe but most definitely feels. It’s a stark contrast to the design and decoration, lots of pink and girly shit, a couple of stuffed animals sitting on the top of the dresser. It’s on the dresser he notices a shattered picture frame that in picking up he sees a photo of a young woman, dark curly hair, beautiful, light eyes and a breathtaking smile. There’s something about her that reminds him of Solana. Her mother. This has to be her mother.

For reasons Roman doesn’t quite understand, there’s something suddenly uncomfortable by looking at this photo, a ghost, someone from the past. A person cruelly and violently ripped away from her family.

It….it hits too close to him.

Laying the broken photo frame down, Roman continues to assess the room and suddenly notices scratches on the door and the wall that holds the door. But, they’re not scratches that come from furniture being moved or kids being rough, they’re clearly nail marks. As if someone was dragged and the scratches a testament of their fight against whatever attack they were facing.

Snatching the key off the dresser, he then redirects his attention to the poorly cleaned splashes of dried blood on the carpet near the bed. He’s suddenly frowning of sorts. 

There’s a story here. A story that paints a dark, grim picture. One that makes Roman slightly curious about just what the hell this girl has really been through in this hellhole?

Not wanting to stay in that creepy ass room any longer than necessary, he walks back out into the living room and ignores Miller’s obvious irritation to reach Solana the key.

Accepting it, she offers the first smile he’s probably seen on her since their first meeting. “Thank you.” Her voice is the usual mixture of soft and quiet but also….grateful. She’s probably the only person in history to ever be so happy at being given something as simple as a key. But Roman isn’t stupid. He recognizes the deeper meaning. 

Nodding, he motions for a few of his men to follow her as she heads for wherever the attic door is located. 

That leaves Roman alone with his least favorite person in the world.

“She can’t take everything, you know.” Xavier shares. He reminds, “she has a brother. My son and I deserve to have something of my late wife to—”

“I don’t care.” And he doesn’t. He honestly, truly doesn’t. “She can take whatever she wants.”

“I understand that she’s your wife, but she was my daughter long before she became your wife. And you’re standing in my house.” Xavier doesn’t skip a beat to contend. “I think you should also remember that, Tribal Chief.”

To be fair, Roman would like to think he’s done a half decent job all day managing his temper. He’s yet to maim or kill anyone which is commendable for him, in and of itself. But something about Xavier pisses him the fuck off to the point where he doesn’t give a damn about controlling his temper. 

And that’s exactly what happens. 

In a matter of seconds, Roman has Xavier by the throat, pinned against the wall, squeezing so tightly he can practically feel the man's bones pressing against his fingertips. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Xavier’s eyes are nearly bugging out of his head as he helplessly grasps at Roman's grip, which only makes the Tribal Chief squeeze harder. “Don’t ever fucking forget who runs this. I run it all!” As much as Roman enjoys playing the long game with this bastard, there’s only so much he can put up with. Miller needs to know Roman is not his daughter, but he damn sure will dictate that any interactions with said daughter go through him. “You see Solana when I say you can see her. You talk to her when I say you can talk to her.” Intensifying his grip, Roman notices the color draining from Xavier’s face. And it’s probably the best thing he’s seen all day. “You live because I allow it. You’re still fucking breathing because I will it.” Recognizing Miller is at the door of unconsciousness, he finally lets the man go, enjoying the sight of him coughing violently, nearly laying on the floor. “Don’t you ever fucking forget that shit.”

Xavier, wisely, doesn't say much after that. And neither does Roman, who simply makes sure his men help Solana gather all she needs, which isn’t that much outside of clothes. He starts to ask her about her car, but something tells him it’s under Xavier’s name, which is why he decides against it.

He’ll just get her another one. 

Roman doesn’t want her to have shit to do with this family, largely because he doesn’t want shit to do with this family.

And he knows what the first step toward initiating that separation will be.

—--------

The Warehouse has always been Roman’s escape.

17,000 square feet of escape, completely revamped and redone by him in his early twenties. It’s a massive compound that serves as both a place to train and compete. The former of which being why he’s present and needing to speak to the one person who he has in charge of all the day to day workings of the Warehouse. 

But, that’s all she’s interested in outside of competing herself and only training those with some fire to them.

It’s why he’s not surprised when Nia takes one look at him, then Solana, and with a snort and roll of her eyes, simply says, “no.”

Roman isn’t an idiot. He knew his cousin would immediately decline, would know what he wanted to ask before it could even leave his mouth.

If only he cared about her objection. 

“Wait here,” he mutters to Solana who only nods, hugging the jacket around her body. Solo remains nearly inches away from her. She looks so out of place, a small part of him can’t blame Nia for declining.

Nia continues to walk the balcony, eyes clearly checking in on the various sets of people training. Roman does as well, just not nearly with the same amount of focus and attention. That’s what he has Nia for.

His blood cousin and close friend since they were kids, there’s few people in this world that Roman trusts, and Nia is grouped in that category. She’s a worthy member of the bloodline and a hell of a person to have alongside you in a fight. 

It’s why she's the perfect person for this task.

“Nia.”

“I said no, Roman.” She turns to him, smirking, taunting him in a way only she and his close family can. "You know, that word that you hate?”

It actually makes him chuckle, a speckle of amusement in a day full of anything but. “If you know I hate it, why are you saying it?”

“Because unlike the rest of the world, I’m not your bitch.”

It’s partially true. Nia has never been one to shy away from being completely and, often, ruthlessly honest with her cousin. It’s something Roman sometimes appreciates, enjoying the occasional challenge and differing perspective.

This isn’t one of those times though. 

He again reiterates. “She needs to be trained.” 

It’s abundantly clear that Solana has no backbone, and he can’t entirely fault her for that because it’s also clear that she’s never really had the chance to develop one. But, that’s no longer the case, because while he can deal with the stammering and quietness, her fragility has to go. 

She has to learn to stand up for herself.

She needs to learn how to fight back.

Nia turns around with a sarcastic chuckle. “You really think that girl can be trained? I saw her at the wedding. She looked terrified the entire time. You breathe too hard in her direction, and she’ll probably have a fucking panic attack.” Roman is briefly taken back to last night. Nia hasn’t the slightest clue how true her words are. “She’s not built for this life.”

Roman doesn’t entirely disagree. If there was ever a person who’d do well and significantly better in something cookie cutter, white picket fence type shit, it’s Solana. But she’s here now, this is her life, so they need to make the best of it. She needs to learn how to survive in this life. and he expresses as such. “Regardless, she needs to learn to defend herself to some extent.”

Nia shrugs, leaning back against the railing and crossing her arms. “So teach her.”

“I don’t have the time. Or the patience.” It’s almost entirely true. There are already so many hats that Roman has to wear. Adding on another one that includes teaching a traumatized young woman how to fight is not an option. Even more, something tells him that Solana would do better training with a woman. She seems most skittish around men.

Nia scoffs, pointing to herself. “And you think I do?”

“Nia….” As much as he enjoys sparring with his cousin from time to time, his patience has grown thin. His tone darkens. “I’m not asking you.”

While tempted to continue to push back, Nia isn’t a stupid woman. She can recognize when Roman is about to lose his cool. “Fucking hell….” With a heavy sigh and shrug of defeat, she accepts. “Fine. I’ll do it, but don’t expect me to like her.”

“I never expect you to like anyone.” He chuckles, adding. “And Nia…..take it easy on her at first.”

Nia curses, instantly accusing, “You think coddling her will help?”

“I know being too rough with her won’t.”

A hard exterior is built from experience and tolerance. Roman fully believes that. However, something tells him his new wife has had enough experiences that anything more could push her closer to breaking point. So approaching it almost gingerly would probably wield the best outcome. 

Nia is, justifiably, vexed. “Whatever. I don’t have time for your weak ass wife. I’ll have Naomi teach her the basics, and once she learns how to actually throw a punch without crying, I’ll take over her training.” 

Roman has no issue with this. Solana seemed to be fine around Naomi at the wedding, so it might actually be a good match. “Fine. Just keep me updated with her progress.” Roman adds, starting to walk away.

“Do I have a choice?”

Instantly, he answers. “Nope.”

Nia’s laughter behind him brings a small smile to his face. 

Rejoining the group, he finds Solana looking just as nervous as he left her. “Let’s go.”

He turns and so does Solo, Roman deciding he’ll talk with Solana about starting training back at the house. But, her small voice calling his name, the first time he’s heard her say as such draws his attention.

Turning around, he asks, “yeah?”

She swallows and starts that damn stammering. It’s hard for him to not snap at her to just get it out. He hates that beating around the bush bullshit. “Umm, can we—uhh, stop somewhere?” Roman does his best to hide his irritation. Where the fuck does she need to go? “I just—-I noticed you don’t have a lot of ingredients at the house, and—and I need some things so I can cook.”

Initially, Roman’s first reaction is to tell her no, that she doesn’t need to cook. He doesn’t need her to cook for him. He does just fine on his own, but that’s the thing that makes him pause. He’s not on his own anymore. She needs to eat too.

So, he agrees, “fine.”

“Ayo, uce!”

Jesus Christ.

Roman needs a vacation. A week long vacation, because the way the past 24hrs has drained him more than anything he’s experienced in the past year is criminal.

The twins jog over, exchanging what is an undeniably awkward acknowledgement to Solana. And he doesn't blame them. She’s so damn docile that they probably don't know how to interact with her.

“Let us catch that ride with you.”

Roman shuts his eyes. “Why?”

Jimmy is the one to answer. “You wanted us to debrief you on that thing from earlier, remember?”

Roman realizes they’re referring to the message he had them send Solana’s brother, which he does want to hear about but not necessarily now.

“She needs to stop at the store before we head back to the house,” Roman informs, hoping the twins will just take a car back to the house to meet him their to debrief.

But that’s too much like right, because they end up in the same SUV as him and Solana, seated in the back, while he sits in the middle with her. And it’s not missed upon him how she’s practically tucked in the corner of the SUV, notebook out as she writes away while his idiotic cousins go on and on in the back about whatever.

The old lady from the library wasn’t kidding. This damn girl is always writing. 

When they arrive at the grocery store, Roman reaches for his wallet, sliding out his black card and handing it to her. “Here. Use this.” 

Roman hadn’t thought about this until just now, thought about the need to make his money available to her. He makes a mental note to have his accountant add Solana to all of his accounts and have cards mailed out with her name. In the meantime, she’ll have to deal with using his.

“Thank you.” She accepts the card, quickly asking, “what’s my limit?”

“What limit?”

Her cheeks redden as she explains. “Like….like how much I can spend?"

“There is none,” he answers with a shrug. “Just get what you need.”

Jey suddenly leans forward, tapping Roman on the shoulder. “Ayo, Big Dog, lemme run this by you.”

“No.”

Of course, the word goes in one ear and out the other. “So, I’m trying to explain to her that it’s not what she thinks. I don’t even care about that bitch, but she’s not trying to hear me. Going on and go about how I ain’t shit, I don’t treat her right—you know, the usual—-and so finally, I just snap on her ass cause who the fuck you think you talking to—”

Jimmy agrees. “She acting like you ain’t got no options.”

Jey sucks his teeth, “man, that’s what I’m saying. Like, I ain’t gotta put up with that shit!”

“Hell naw!”

The idea of grocery shopping doesn’t appeal to Roman in the slightest, but neither does listening to his dumbass cousin complain about his marriage problems to his equally dumbass brother. So, it’s the lesser of two evils, really. 

“Fuck it,” he mutters, unbuckling his seatbelt, and opening the door. Solo and Solana’s eyes fall on him as they’d yet to enter the store. “I’ll go with her.”

Solana looks expectedly surprised as Solo simply nods and gets back in the passenger seat.

“I’ll make it quick.”

Roman says nothing, walking alongside her, still providing enough distance to not make her uncomfortable. 

As long as the twins are harping on and on about stupid shit, she can take as long as she wants.

Once in the store, Solana pushing the cart, Roman realizes she was writing down a grocery list that she uses to track the needed items as they peruse what feels like endless aisles. Granted, he hasn’t been inside an actual grocery store in probably close to two decades, if not longer, so maybe this is normal for a grocery store. 

It’s when they reach the produce section that she seems a bit stumped, chewing on her bottom lip, clearly perplexed.

He starts to ask her what’s wrong, but she walks over to one of the workers and takes him slightly by surprise when she starts speaking in a different language. Spanish, he eventually settles on. It’s also the first time he thinks he’s ever seen her smile. Outside of when he gave her the key And laugh. That one is definitely a first. Both small and quiet, but still, a first. She seems to know or at least be familiar with the worker who digs around the produce and reaches over a packaged bag of whatever produce it is. 

It’s when she returns to place the produce in the basket, continuing to walk, that he asks, “you speak Spanish?”

She looks up at him, but not for too long, as if doing so is forbidden, explaining. “My—my mom taught me. She was originally from Mexico.”

Roman figured as such from the picture he saw in her room that Solana’s mom was Hispanic or had some type of Central American ancestry. He’s also surprised by her answering with more than just 3 to 5 words, providing more information than he asked. 

It’s not something he necessarily cares about, but it doesn’t annoy him like it typically does when people give him a longer answer than what’s necessary. 

“Are—are your cousins always like….like that?” Again, she takes him by surprise, up until the point where she immediately goes into apologizing. “I–I don’t mean it in a bad way. I would never—”

“Yes,” he cuts off her rambling. It’s unnecessary because the answer is simple. “They are.” With a mutter, he adds, “they never shut the fuck up.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees it. That smile smile, this time conjoined with a small laugh that she does a decent job trying to suppress. And it’s like she catches herself, changing the subject as she asks, “umm, are you—like—allergic to anything? Or is there something you don’t like? I can learn—”

“I can eat anything.” It’s a simple, truthful answer. It also seems like something she’d been wanting to ask but only built the courage to do so at the end of their current conversation, even if brief as hell.

Solana doesn’t say much after that, and it confuses Roman when she tries to grab items on shelves much higher than what exceeds her reach. It confuses him because it would be significantly easier for her to just ask him to reach it. Granted, something tells him just her asking to be taken to the grocery store seems to be her daily quota for requests.

So he takes it upon himself, hand on the small of her back, ignoring how she tenses at his touch, to tell her to step aside as he easily retrieves the item. With a tuck of her hair behind her ear and a small “thank you,” she continue shopping but this time actually, still with that same irksome gentleness, asks him to reach items that she cannot. It’s not a lot, just a couple.

And it’s not long before she’s done, checking out with his card that she makes sure to give back to him immediately. He gets the sense that that’s something she thinks is important to him.

It’s not.

The worst he can see her doing is going crazy at fucking Barnes and Nobles.

Roman has his men load the trunk for her, something that also seems to take her off guard. Like she’s not used to the assistance.

And she probably isn’t. 

————

Samantha Irvin has been on Roman’s revolving roster of women since he was in his teens. The longevity being that It’s always been the easiest with her. Sexually, at least. Their compatibility in that one area, the only one he really (only) cares about, is astronomical. But lately, more in the past few months than anything, she’s dropped a comment here and there about wanting more. 

He’s ignored them everytime. 

Roman has never promised Samantha anything more than what they currently are: fuck buddies. She knows this, just like she knows she’s not the only woman he’s fucking. Nothing about that should indicate him wanting more with anyone, including her.

Well, other than the wedding band now on his finger.

Samantha’s gaze falls on that wedding band, a bitter chuckle leaving her mouth. “I still can’t believe you actually did it.”

“Yeah,” he mutters. Discussing his shitshow of a marriage is the last thing he wants to do and far from the reason he left Solana in the middle of the night to come see her, to come work off his frustrations.

The same reason he invited her over tonight. 

Last night was a dumpster fuck, without a doubt. But today with Solana was….decent. Not amazing. Not awful. Just some strange space in between. Even as they arrived back at the estate and she went straight into cooking, creating something he can’t pronounce but can honestly say was delicious, a meal she delivered to him in his office. There was something manageable about that, this level of she does her thing, he does his, and if their paths cross in the process, he can deal with that.

The intimacy though….that’s something he’ll have to figure out, have to navigate, just not now. Not tonight. 

Right now, he just needs Samantha’s talented mouth on him.

She moves her hands up his chest, biting on her bottom lip. “She’s just a little girl, baby. You need a woman who knows how to please you.” Roman knows the other side of what she’s saying or rather what she’s not saying. Another subtle, or not so subtle depending on how you look at it, hint that she’s the one he should settle down with.

In all honesty, he has, or had, zero desire to settle down with anyone.

Especially not with Sam. She’s the kind of woman that’s good for fucking and nothing else. As much as Solana’s extreme passivity annoys the shit out of him, he’d pick that over the bitching Sam would do. He just knows she’d be on his ass about stupid shit like fucking other woman and not paying her enough attention. Like she’d think she’s somehow above him doing who and what the fuck he wants just cause he put a ring on her finger.

Way too needy.

But at least he can actually fucking touch Sam.

Kinda hard to make a baby with someone who has literal fucking panic attacks just from being touched.

It builds up his frustration again, hence Roman grabbing Samantha by the back of her head, forcing it back. She hisses, both from pain and pleasure. It’s another thing he does actually enjoy about her. She lets him be as rough as he wants and needs.

“Why are you still talking?” There may be a slight dim in her eyes at his question, but she hides it well. “I don’t give a fuck what you think.” He releases his grip and shoves her to her knees. “Put that mouth to actual good use.”

If she’s hurt by his brusque tone, she doesn’t show it, simply bringing her hands to unbuckle his pants. “I got you, daddy…” 

She gets his zipper down when a scream sounds throughout the house, causing her to freeze in her motions as she shoots Roman a confused look.

“What the hell?” Samantha’s obvious irritation is the last thing he hears before adjusting himself as he heads out the room and down the hall.

For some reason, Roman already knows what to expect before he even reaches Solana’s room. Opting against knocking, he opens the door and finds her twisting and turning in the bed, eyes shut, chest moving up and down, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead.

Yeah….just as he expected. 

Sighing, he walks over to the bed, sitting on the side. “Solana.”

“No.....” she’s crying in her sleep, clearly in the midst of a nightmare. Or night terror. “Mom, please…don’t leave me.”

Roman tenses. Immediately, he knows exactly what her nightmare is. He brings hands to her shoulder, shaking her. “Solana, wake up.”

“No…..”

He says her name again, a bit louder, firmer, “Solana, wake up.”

“No!” She screams again, shooting up from the bed, immediately fighting and pushing against his body. “Leave me alone!” She’s crying, clearly fighting against the demons one faces once in life but forever battles, even when they’re gone. 

It’s a permanent scar on the soul.

“Solana,” he says again, still stern, but somehow gentle. “You’re fine. You’re safe.” It’s the ‘safe’ word that seems to trigger something for her, mouth still ajar, painting heavily but no longer struggling against him. “It was just a bad dream.”

There’s a fleeting thought he has about pushing some of the flyaway hairs out of her face, but it’s gone before he can really process let alone act on said thought.

Solana looks at his hands on her forearm and immediately tugs them back to her body, hugging herself. She drops her head, eyes closing, “I’m—I’m sorry.”

His eyes take her in, studying her, “it’s fine.”

“I—I need some air.” She kicks the blankets off her body and swings her legs over the bed, hurriedly grabbing a notebook off the dresser and rushing out of the room past a smirking Samantha.

Roman shuts his eyes and runs his hand over his face, ignoring the strange array of emotions, or something like that, he’s experiencing.

He hasn’t been this exposed to this kind of behavior in years.

This may be more complicated than he realized. 

And it’s as he stands up from the bed, walking near the door that Samantha smirks. “Did she seriously say mom?”  His eyes snap to her as she runs her hands up and down his chest. “What a fucking child.”

Her words take him back, reframe things so that it’s not Solana the child crying for her mother not to be taken from her. It’s a young boy. Burned, bloody, and beat, fading in and out consciousness, the gaze of fiery flames in his peripheral vision, the smell of burning flesh invading his nostrils, the sound of wails and sirens all mingling together from the shock of it all. 

Roman catches himself, forcing those buried memories back where they belong in the very back of his mind. He then looks at Sam for a good five seconds before demanding, “get the fuck out.”

She pauses and then asks with an uncomfortable laugh, “what?”

“Get the fuck out of my house,” he repeats, shoving her hands off him. 

“What did I sa—”

“Get out!” Roman snaps, volume and tone making her jump. He probably scared her. He also doesn’t care. He just wants her gone. And she does as such, walking away without another word of protest. 

Left alone, he tries to gather himself, moving back to his room.

So much for a fucking distraction.

 —----- 

Roman finds her out back on the patio. 

He needed to clear his head, get back into his tunnel vision focus, and the gym he had included when he built the house is the perfect place to do that. Two hours later, recentered and showered, he readies to call it a night. But, he realizes he probably shouldn’t do as such until he makes sure Solana is at least partially stable enough to be left alone. 

And she is. 

She’s laid out, sleeping on the rattan lounge chair, a closed notebook tucked into her side. Roman recognizes it as the same one she was writing in that day at the library as well as the one she used for her grocery list just earlier in the day. 

He settles down on the chair next to her, studying her. Even in her sleep, she looks….sad. And for the first time in the midst of all these strange experiences with her, Roman understands. He understands her sadness, understands her difficulty, understands the memories that clearly haunt her.

The same way they used to haunt him. 

His hand goes to his tatted arm, intricate tribal tattoo hiding permanent remnants of that night of hell. The night that he once had the same kind of night terrors about. 

Noticing the breeze, he walks back into the house, grabbing one of the throw blankets on the sofa. Roman is careful to not directly touch her as he lays it over her body. A part of him is tempted to carry her back to her room, but he remembers these kinds of nights. The kind where it’s a challenge to escape the memories, let alone find a place and mental space to turn your brain off enough to just sleep.

So he leaves her alone, allowing her to enjoy the only escape she clearly has in this life.

[silv3rswirls]

Pranking them with another members sweater

Anon asks: Hi! Can I request an skz reaction where you prank them by saying “Oh here’s that sweater I borrowed from u earlier” but it’s actually not his sweater? Maybe it’s a members or its new ?? I hope I made sense

Note: Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy it!

♡Chan♡

“Here’s your sweater back by the way.” Chan looks up from his phone as you pull out his sweater from your bag, tossing it to him, going on with packing up the Tupperware you had brought him lunch in. He begins to thank you but stops himself once he picks it up and takes a closer look. What is this? It’s definitely too small to be his? Is this…Jeongin’s? “You’re joking right?” He laughs, tossing it aside to give back to Jeongin later. He ignores your attempts at trying to convince him you weren’t joking.

♡Minho♡

The moment you walk into the room, telling him you want to return the sweater you borrowed last week Minho’s ready to tell you just to keep it, but you toss the sweater to him before he can. He catches it, immediately scrunching his brows as he realizes it isn’t something he would own. “Wow,” he drags his voice out, side-eyeing you as you try your best to look completely innocent. “Wearing Han’s sweater? Tell him to take you to dinner then.” He huffs, ignoring your rushed explanations of it being a joke and that he should still go out with you tonight.

♡Changbin♡

“I think I have one of your sweaters upstairs” You hop up from where you had been leaning against Changbin watching a movie. He had complained for the third time now that he was cold. He had been grateful at first, but when you toss it to him and he gets ready to slip it on he stops. He does a double-take and gives you a weird look. “Whose sweater is this, yours?” 

“No, it’s yours?”

Changbin scoffs and shows it to you. “Do you think this will fit me? Whose is it.” You have a hard time repressing your smile at the thought of him trying to squeeze into Felix’s sweater. In the end, he’s so confused and about to fight some imaginary guy that you have to fess up about the prank. 

♡Hyunjin♡

He takes it from you and puts it on without much thought, yeah maybe it's a little big but he doesn’t sense anything is wrong until he realizes it doesn’t smell like yours or his cologne. He looks at you, not even paying attention to your struggle to hide your laughter. “Who’s the other man?” He asks, frowning and taking it off. He takes another look, the cologne smells familiar; is that…Chan’s? “Betrayed by two of the closest people to me” he shakes his head. Not funny, he’s a little annoyed, and even when you break your act he’s playfully avoiding you, sulking around and dramatically telling you to go be with Chan instead.

♡Jisung♡

“Here’s all your stuff” You smiled and handed Jisung a handful of all the things you had stolen from him the past month or so. It was an exchange you did often, but this time you had decided to get your boyfriend back for a prank he had pulled on you last week. So, with Minho’s permission you raided his bandmember's closet and gave it back to Han. 

“Oh, I don’t think…” Jisung trails off, picking through the clothes that are not his, are these Minho’s? “With my member?” He looks up with wide eyes, “cheating on me with my member?” You reconsider going on with the joke because he sounds so sincere, really playing into what you were trying to do. You both keep the act up far longer than needed, going about your evening play-fighting and trying not to be the first to break.

♡Felix♡

Poor guy doesn’t even realize it's one of his members when you turn up wearing it. He thought it was his, but it wasn’t something he would wear…who had given you their sweater? He’s quiet while you wait for his reaction, expecting him to poke at you for it and maybe be a little jealous of something, but he just presses his lips thin and tries to figure out what to say. “Did you have another guy over?” He finally asks.

Suddenly you feel like the one being pranked. Your jaw drops as you take it off and shove it closer to him. “It’s Hyunjin’s, see?” You point to some pain stains on the sleeves, “It was supposed to be a joke-” You’re halfway to apologizing when you realize he’s smirking, having turned it on you with ease.

♡Seungmin♡

Nice try

Seungmin merely side-eyes the sight of you trying to give him what is clearly one of Jeongin’s favorite sweatshirts back. “Not funny” he swats the sweater away, rolling his eyes at your attempts to convince him it’s not a joke and that it is his sweater. He’s not going to entertain you at all, honestly, he considers taking you back to the dorm and leaving your annoying self with Jeongin since you’re so insistent. The next time you ask to borrow something he’ll be sending you to Jeongin.

♡Jeongin♡

He knows what you are doing the moment he spots Changbin’s jacket in your arms. He’s seen plenty of these kinds of pranks online and honestly had expected you to try him sooner. “That’s not mine” He tilts his head to look harder at it. “Not mine, kinda looks like Changbin’s.”

“No, it’s yours you left it-” “Changbin must’ve left it, hm…” he looks you up and down. “You know, I always did wonder if you liked him more than me, but now I-” He’s cut off as you pout and toss it at him, complaining that he’s no fun, he shouldn’t tease like that, etc. Jeongin, however, finds your annoyance cute and will continue to make little jabs at you all day.

[bonny-kookoo]

Can we get cherry jks reaction when Mc finally shows her tattoo to jk😊 thanks

A/N: Warnings for sexual tension

"So." He grins.

"..So." You parrot back, though not as confident.

You're both sitting on his couch again, facing each other. Suddenly, you feel odd. What if he's disappointed by your body? What if he thinks you're a lot prettier than you actually are? And what if he thinks your tattoo is stupid, badly made, or doesn't suit you?

"Do you wanna.. take it off yourself, or..?" He wonders casually, leaning his head a bit to the side.

"..you." You point towards him, unable to really bring yourself to undress. It's not even all that bad- he's gonna be able to see the tattoo without you taking off your bra anyways. You're not gonna have to get naked.

But you kind of want to be, just to see what he thinks of you.

He's clearly scanning your face and rest of you for any sign of discomfort as he scoots closer to you, fingers pulling your shirt out from where you had it tucked into your shorts, before he slowly lifts it up, your hands lift to make it easier for him to pull it over your head.

Of course your underwear would be cute- lace rim sitting snug against your skin, little bows placed right where the straps begin, one singular one right in between the two cups that hold your tits all securely inside.

He actually thought about what they maybe look like. He didn't think they'd look this pretty.

"Can I touch you?" He wonders, and you shrug, before nodding, his hands surprisingly warm as he smiles, before he leans in a little closer. "Lay back for me a little, yeah?" He asks, voice lower than before, less clear, a lot more breathy. You nod, letting him help you lay back down as he sits right over your legs, knees digging into the couch below so that he doesn't put his weight on you.

He pushes up the hem under your bra, but you notice he's struggling a little not to go too far-

so you move your hands and unhook the back of your bra, catching him off guard as his hands leave you, eyes wide open before he laughs, face resting on your stomach, exhale from his nose tickling your skin.

"God damnit woman, give a man a warning!" He scolds, looking back up at you. "I thought I broke it!" He complains, causing you to laugh as well now.

"Sorry." You apologize, and he shakes his head, before he looks back at you. "You can take it off too." You approve, and he licks his lips, gaze now darkening quite a bit at the prospect of being allowed to do something like that.

He looks almost concentrated as he rids you off your underwear, leaving it to hang over the backrest of the couch to not get lost.

"That's, without exaggeration-" He says, leaning back a bit to look at you. "-the best pair of tits I've ever seen." He nods, playfully acting impressed, like an art-critic looking at a painting revealed. "Like, I know I'm supposed to look at the tattoo but wow.. can I touch them?" He wonders, and you nod- his entire demeanor making you feel awfully comfortable.

His palms immediately take the place of your bra earlier, and he personally thinks his hands are a way better fit and sight than the undergarment.

But maybe that's just him.

The moment he finds the tattoo however, he's interested. Fine lines, some already quite faded, no shadowing whatsoever. It's a simple flower design, very pretty, doesn't need any bold colors or more additions to it.

It's fine as it is. Fits you perfectly.

"I could re-trace those lines here. They're almost invisible- which happens a lot with fine line artworks.." He mumbles, before he notices your thighs move together.

Oh?

One look up reveals your flushed face, and only now does he notice the way his fingers must've continuously brushed over your by now hardened nipples. "But maybe I gotta get more familiar with... the client first." he purrs, hands moving as his body moves to lay lower, now his chin touching your stomach. "Hm?" He wonders, and you whine, unsure what to ask for.

How far does he want to even go? Does he want full on sex, or is he still only teasing you?

"Did you know that some girls can cum from only getting their tits touched?" He asks you boldly, and you shake your head, making him grin, before he runs his thumbs over your sensitive buds, a kiss placed right up onto the lowest part of your sternum.

"Wanna see if you're one of them?"

[libraryofloveletters]

chapter seven: what's the worst that can happen?

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: babysitting/playdate uncle mickey for the girls, a sweet mention of michael <3, seb is sooo love sick, < mick thinks it's hilarious, fun date stuff, some kissing because seb is loving on his lady, mick teasing the two of you, a few cheeky comments, illusions to 18+ stuff at the end ;)

Word Count: 2.7k

Author’s Note: finally giving y'all wanted to see; the y/n and seb date! there's a fun lil surprise at the end for you freaky fuckers ;) enjoy it :)

sugar and spice; all things nice masterlist

---

"Which one?" Sebastian asks, the one hanger in each hand.

Mick looks up from his phone, finding Sebastian in front of him extremely serious about which shirt he should be wearing on his date with y/n. "Oh Seb," the younger German laughs, "you're nervous!"

"I am not!" He groans, rolling his eyes at Mick's teasing - he was sooo nervous. "Just help me pick a shirt, Mick."

"You're like a teenager with a crush," he smiles, making Sebastian groan once again but he nods towards the baby blue button up. "That one."

"You're a pain in the ass, Mick." Sebastian tells him as he hangs the white shirt back in the closet.

Mick shrugs, making himself comfortable on Seb's bed. "Just doing what dad would do." He says, both of them sharing a smile at the thought of Michael; he would have definitely teased Sebastian about his nervousness, but he would have been the first person to support whatever this was between him and y/n.

The thought is pulled away when they hear the little footsteps coming towards the room, Milly pushing the door open as she flings herself into her uncle's arms. Mick catches the girl, hugging her before he pulls her up onto the bed with him.

Sebastian smiles at the sight of them; Mick's holding the girl, Amelia sitting on his lap as she tells him all about the stuff she has planned for her, Olivia and Mick to do.

Had you told him when he met Michael all those years ago, as a young RedBull driver, that his daughter and Michael's son would be like siblings, he would have never believed you.

The doorbell rings and the girl jumps off of the bed, pulling Mick behind her. The man follows her without much of a choice.

"That's Liv! C'mon uncle Mick!" She shouts, running out the room with Mick right behind her. The two of them make it downstairs, Angie pawing at the front door while barking. Mick opens the door, the little girl runs in and hugs his legs.

"Hi Mickey!" She smiles at him and he smiles, reaching down to pinch her chunky cheek.

"Hi sweetheart, come in." He steps aside, scooting Angie back a bit so they had space to come in.

Angie was licking Liv's hand, Milly making the introduction between her best friend and her fur friend. The two girls run off towards the living room after Milly waves hello to you and Mick shuts the door behind you.

He smiles when he sees you, "wow.. you look beautiful."

"Thank you, Mick." You smiled. Angie was running up to you, standing on her back legs as she put her paws on your thighs, barking for some attention.

"Angie! Down!" Mick wags a finger at her and she does drop back down but she barks at him, giving him a look that you can only assume was for ruining her fun. You laugh, kneeling down to pat her side. "Hi pretty girl, dad's no fun huh?" You made a face at her, the dog nuzzling into your arm as you scratched her belly.

"You're spoiling her," Mick laughs when you stand up, Angie running off when Milly calls for her.

"She's adorable. Is Seb ready?"

There are footsteps from your left, you both look towards the stairs where Seb was coming down. "I am."

Mick can't help but laugh; "you know you're supposed to be picking y/n up. This should be the other way around."

You smiled at the boy's comment and Sebastian rolled his eyes, coming down to kiss your cheek. "We're not a very traditional couple, Mick."

Seb takes a moment to admire you; a red top that fit you perfectly and was just low cut enough to leave him wanting more, jeans that were made for you and only you; he resisted the urge to grab your ass in front of Mick - don't want to traumatize the man that's babysitting your children.

"You look.. wow." He smiles, making you chuckle. "You look pretty wow yourself."

"God, this is like watching my parents flirt," Mick gags, walking into the living room.

Seb takes that as his chance; his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him, hand slipping down to rest on your ass when he kisses you.

"Behave," you mumble, wiping the lipgloss off of his lips. He rolls his eyes playfully, "says you."

The girls were playing with Angie on the floor, Mick stretched out on the couch with the TV playing; very big brother, little sisters coded of them.

"We're heading out now." Sebastian announces and the girls come over, hugging you both goodbye. You give them both a kiss on the cheek, making them promise not to give Mick a hard time while Seb was off to the side talking to previously mentioned man.

"So do I get one of those too?" Mick asks when Seb finally lets him go.

Your brows furrow but Mick glances at the girls but turning his face to the side and leaning towards you. Laughing, you kiss his cheek and leave a red kiss shaped mark on his cheek as you had done with the girls.

Sebastian holds your hand, leading you out of the house before you get a chance to change your mind.

You shout on the way out of the door. "Have fun, you guys! Call if you need us!"

The two of you ended up taking Seb's car - he didn't let you drive, claiming that you driving over was all the driving you'd be doing for the night. Sebastian had planned the date, you had no idea where the two of you were going, or if you were even dressed for the right occasion.

So when he pulled up to the parking lot and the neon sign read mini golf, you looked over at him a bit confused. "Are you serious?" You can't help the laugh.

Sebastian shrugs, "Mick suggested it."

"No wonder," you chuckled, getting out of the car. Seb's cheeks are red, his hand resting on your lower back as you two walk towards the front door. "We can leave.. I can think of something-"

"Relax," you reach for his arm, giving it a squeeze. "It's an odd choice but, I'm sure we'll have fun."

"Okay," he nods, exhaling as he opens the door for you. "I haven't been on a date in a long time.. so I'm a little out of practice." The man admits his thoughts and feelings to you and yet there you were making a joke; "Right, I forget you're 800 years old."

Sebastian rolls his eyes. His hand that previously rested on your back reaches over to pinch your hip teasingly, making you smile. You often tease bit about him acting older than he actually is; a lot of the things that you tell him or show him, he doesn't even have a clue about.

Despite the two of you only having a five year age gap, Seb was an old soul in comparison to you.

Not that you minded, you appreciated the stability that he brought into your life as well as Olivia's.

"But don't worry, me either." You tell him, referring to his dating comment. "At least not a good one, anyways."

"So you're certain this one will be good?" he raises a brow, making you laugh yet again as you two walked in.

You nod, smiling at the man. "I think so."

The two of you decide to play a few rounds, making it around the course. It wasn't until you made it to the last hole that the two of you decided that you wouldn't be playing another round.

"Go on," he tells you, letting you hit the ball into the hole. It misses the hole by an inch and you watch as Seb purposefully misses his shot as well.

You line your club up with the ball. "You didn't have to do that."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He smiles, clapping for you when you get the ball into the final hole, you take a small bow and hand him your club.

His hand rests on your lower back yet again, leading you towards the exit. "Shall we get out of here?" He asks and you nod. "Where to?"

Sebastian, a gentlemen as always, opens the door for you to get into the car. "I know a place," he tells you before shutting the door and getting in.

It was about an hour drive away. The two of you chatting away as Sebastian drives down a lonely road that leads to what seems like the middle of nowhere. You look over at the man, a bit confused before turning to look out of the window yet again.

There's a big blue sign coming up to your left that reads; drive in movies.

You smile, turning back to Seb as he drives through the gate. "What are we watching?"

"I believe they have the cabin in the woods running tonight." He tells you, pulling into a spot towards the back. It was fairly empty so you could still see the big projector screen.

"You know," you start as you two get out of the car, meeting by the side to walk towards the snack booth. "I hate scary movies."

Seb's arm links with yours, pulling you into your side. "I'll protect you," he says, a goofy grin on his face as he raises his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, laughing as you two pick out some snacks.

The two of you return to the car, settling into your seats as the movie begins. It's gotten about 30 minutes into the movie before the first scary thing happens, causing you to jump in your seat and spill popcorn everywhere.

Sebastian looks away, his hand over his mouth as he snickers and you can't help but laugh, your hand reaching out to smack his shoulder. "It's not funny!"

"It kinda is," he chuckled, leaning over to give you a kiss.

The popcorn is long forgotten, Sebastian's hand resting on your jaw as he kisses you. Your own hand wraps around his wrist, pulling him closer. Leaning over the centre console, Seb's hands begin to wander, his lips traveling from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck.

Your cheeks flush red when you realize you're still in public, anyone can look over and see you. "Seb," you whispered, the man mumbles against your neck, moving further down.

A hand holds his chin, forcing him to stop and look up at you. "What?"

"Not here," you smiled at him, giving him one more kiss before wiping the lipgloss off of his face.

It made you smile; at your grown age, he still made you blush and giggle like a teenage girl.

It was nearly 10:30 when the movie ended and Sebastian asked you if you'd like to get dinner. You nod, "but will Mick be okay with the girls?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine. We can call if you'd like?"

"Please," you smiled and Sebastian pulled his phone out and called Mick, the two of you watching and waiting to see if they'd pick up.

"Hey," Mick smiles when he answers, sitting on the couch. "Hey," the two of you say at the same time, making you laugh.

"Girls!" Mick calls out to them, knowing that's who you wanted to talk to. Milly and Liv come running in, Angie running behind them as they climb onto the couch with Mick.

The two of them shout hello, overlapping each other as they tell you how much fun they're having with Mick. Liv holds his hand up, "mom look!"

Mick had blue and purple nail polish all over his nails. The man bites back a smile, Milly giggles. "He let us do whatever colour we wanted!"

"That's nice, girls. We're gonna be out a bit longer, will you guys be okay with Mick?"

"Yeah!" They say together, making you smile. Seb tells them to listen to Mick and that when he says it's bedtime, they've got to go to bed. They agree and run off to play again, leaving Mick with the phone.

"Soooo.." he smiles when he gets the phone back, "how's it going?"

"Good," you tell him, "we'll be out a bit later though, you're sure you'll be okay with the girls?"

"Absolutely, I'll put them to bed. You two take as long as you need." He says and you smile when you thank him. You hand the phone back over to Seb and the younger German laughs when he sees his friend.

"Why have you got sparkles on your face, Sebastian?" He asks, a smirk on his face.

Seb rolls his eyes, "shut up, Mick."

Mick can hear your snicker from behind Seb, making him laugh. "Gross you guys. Okay bye, have fun.. but not too much fun!" He says in a fit of laughter when Seb hangs up on him.

"Where to now?" You looked over at him and Seb shrugged. "Dinner?" He suggests and you nod, "but what's open? Most places close at 10."

"I think I saw a diner, unless you want McDonalds or something?"

You hum, taking a moment to think. "Either is fine with me," you smiled.

The man nods, pulling out of the lot. You two end up in the parking lot of the diner only to realize they were closed. It wasn't until you were almost back home that Sebastian pulls into a McDonald's, the only place that was open at this time of the night. You aren't sure since when restaurants close at 10pm on a Friday, but you went along with it anyways.

A brown paper bag sat on the middle console as the two of you ate chicken nuggets, at midnight, in some sketchy McDonald's parking lot.

"You didn't actually say that," you look over at him, taking a bite of your nugget. Seb nods, "I did; I was racing, I was faster, I passed him, I won." The man shrugs, a wicked grin on his face.

You roll your eyes, "you were so cocky."

"If only we had met sooner," he says, leaning back in his seat, head turning to look at you. "I would have charmed the panties off of you."

You snorted, smacking his arm. "You can still do that now, Seb."

He smiles, his head reaching over for yours. Seb's fingers interlock with yours. "Shall we go home?" He asks.

"Will Mick be okay with the girls for a bit longer? I was thinking.. we could, you know.. go back to mine."

"Yeah?" Seb raises an eyebrow, "what for?"

You shrug, smiling at him. Seb gets the hint; "I'm sure he'll be fine. Shall we?" You nod, smiling. "You're the driver, so please."

It's a short drive back to yours and Sebastian follows you inside, his hand holding yours as you walk in. He stopped in the entryway, you were up the first two steps.

"What?" You look at him and he shakes his head, smiling as he follows behind you. You make it up the staircase, stopping again outside of your bedroom and Seb looks at you.

You weren't sure if you were making the right choice; you wouldn't be able to go back if you did this.

"Are you sure?" You asked him quietly and Seb nods, his hand cupping your jaw before he leans in. HIs lips ghost over yours, "I've never been more sure in my life."

Sebastian closes the gap between the two of you, your hand fumbling behind you to open the door. The two of you are tangled together, hands all over each other, lips moving from one spot to the other as you stumbled to the bed.

He lets you get on before joining you, moving to settle between your legs before kissing you again. One by one, the clothes end up on the floor in the pile.

"You're sure?" Sebastian looks down at you, your leg on his hip.

You nod, pulling him down for another kiss. "I've never been more sure."

--

if you weren't tagged in this, it's because the limit was met. I'll add the rest in a reblog!

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[withlove-amber]

Peaches and Cowboy

gibbs x reader

This does take place before Jack Sloane appears in season 15

Peaches. (Y/N) only had to thank one Leroy Jethro Gibbs for that nickname. He insists it’s because she’s so sweet and kind. But, she’s pretty sure it’s because of her perfume. He calls her that only when they’re alone, neither of them want to ruin his reputation. 

Her head was down on her desk, with paperwork covering every inch of her desk. Gibbs was growing concerned, because she was looking paler by the hour. Once Tony headed to interrogation, Ziva was checking out a lead, and Tim was getting an update from Abby, he made his way over to her desk. That’s when he smelled her perfume, peach with just a dash of vanilla. “Hey, peaches, you feelin’ okay?” Her head instantly rose from her desk, and she sleepily responded, “Yeah, just a headache the size of Texas. I’ll be alright. Just need to drink more water.” He was still concerned, but ultimately said, “Okay, let me know if you need anything.” “Will do, hun.”

The day went by and by the end of it, she was very excited to go home, make some soup, and crawl into a warm bed. Gibbs had the same idea, but because he was still concerned, he offered to drive her home. She was hesitant at first, saying she didn’t want to be a bother. But he insisted. And she damn near fell asleep during the ride home. She was so out of it, she didn’t even notice that it wasn’t her house. It was Gibbs’ house. Fair enough, they only live a street away from each other. She only noticed something was different when the front table was in a different spot than it was in her house. He led her to the couch, and told her to make herself comfortable. As she did, he disappeared into the kitchen. He reappeared a few moments later with two bowls of soup, water for her, and a beer for him. She felt a little bad that her friend was taking care of her, but ultimately felt so grateful that he cared enough about her to do so. 

They ate in comfortable silence, and after finishing her soup, she started feeling incredibly exhausted. To no shock, he noticed that she was starting to fade. He took the dishes back into the kitchen, and when he returned to the living room, found her half asleep, curled up on the sofa. He gently pushed her hair away from her face, and gently laid a blanket on top of her. He whispered, “Goodnight, peaches.” She responded with a half-hearted mumble that sounded similar to, “Goodnight Jethro.” And with that, she fell into a very blissful sleep, where she dreamt of a very familiar silver-haired, steely-blue eyed man. 

Cowboy. Gibbs only had (Y/N) to thank for that nickname. She calls him that only when they’re alone, neither of them want to ruin his reputation. It was a slow day, the team didn’t have a case, so they took the day to catch up on paperwork. Sometime in the afternoon, they all took a break (minus one silver-haired boss), and took turns guessing what their favorite movie genres were. Lastly, it was (Y/N)’s turn. She correctly guessed that Ziva hasn’t watched a lot of movies, Tim’s favorite is action-fantasy, and that Tony’s was classic films. But Gibbs, she had a hard time figuring his out. But ultimately, she correctly guessed he likes westerns. Specifically, black and white westerns. “Yeah I see it, cowboy. It fits.” And with that, that’s how he became “cowboy”. Just with an afternoon distraction from the mind-numbing paperwork they had all been busy with all day. The rest of the day went by in a blur. They all said their goodbyes and went their separate ways for the night. Sometime in the evening, (Y/N) found herself in Gibbs’ basement, drinking bourbon out of an old glass, talking with not her boss, but her friend. 

“Why’d ya guess I like westerns?” “Because, you have this air of authority about you, your house is bare besides furniture, you have an old TV, and you build boats in your basement. Plus, at night, you smell like bourbon.” “Wow.” “Yeah… it’s one of my favorite things about you.” “What is?” “Everything. It’s just so you.” He leaned over and wrapped her in a hug. She swiftly accepted his hug, and held him tight. They spent the rest of the night laughing and talking about anything and everything. Not a lot of people know, but Gibbs can be very talkative with the right person. He also smiles his beautiful, soft smile quite a lot. But only when he’s with her. Only when he’s with his “peaches”. And when she’s with her “cowboy”, the sun will never be able to outshine her smile.

[locketsvault]

「 KUNIKIDA WITH A CUDDLY S/O 」

pairing: kunikida doppo x gender neutral reader

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, cuddling headcanon, very fluffy

warnings: none!

request: I know you made a post already so only if you have ideas and feel like writing it can you write moreeee about snuggles with kunikida? 🤭 only if you want to :) it doesn't have to be a lot. maybe specifically with a reader who loves cuddles and physical touch and is always hugging him at work and giving him lots of kisses, and also loves plushes 🤭🤭 (original request found here.) (cuddling headcanon post).

word count: 1k

a/n: upon looking for photos for his header I have realized his eyebrows are almost always furrowed lol my poor stressed man. btw, I love stuffies, so I relate a lot to this request.

Man I hate to say it but, you definitely do not fit his ideal type. You were not what he wrote down in his book of ideals. And he couldn’t have asked for anything better. It took him a bit to warm up to the idea of dating you, but once he realized how much he’d fallen for you, and how well you two pair together, he decided to screw the damn book and officially ask you out.

To be honest, he spoils you rotten. As I said in my cuddling headcanon post, if he’s in a relationship with you it’s serious. In my opinion, you ground him. Your happiness is his happiness. He wants you loved and cared for. So, even if physical affection is not his thing (it’s not) he’ll do it for you, he’d do anything for you simp.

When it comes to affection, it goes from quality time, acts of service, gift giving, words of affirmation, and then physical affection. Listen, I know words of affirmation is ranked lowly, but I’m sorry this man with his words sometimes is a mess. He’s not the best at verbally comforting someone.

Now what exactly is it like being a cuddle bug in a relationship with an idealist? Let me bullet that for you.

Cuddles are always initiated by you. Even if you’re not feeling well, you always stretch your arms out for him before he can even blink.

On the off chance it’s initiated by him, it comes out of no where.

I mentioned this in the headcanon but I’ll say it again, after a rough day or mission he craves your touch and comfort. I’m going to assume physical affection is your main love language, so it becomes second nature to him to seek out your touch for affection. He’s the type to bury himself into your arms in that case. He’s vulnerable and sensitive, and while I see him as being only dominant in a relationship, sometimes he just needs to be held and cared for.

Sometimes though he will insist on holding you, and that’s a key indicator that something happened where he felt threatened losing you. If that’s the case, let him holding you and baby you for a bit, he needs to reassurance you’re safe in his arms and not going anywhere.

Wow that got angsty haha, my bad. Let’s move onto something more… fluffy. Literally.

He knew about your love of plushies due to you carrying a couple of small ones in your bags, or having plush keychains. He had to admit at first he didn’t understand the appeal, but it made you happy and, you were quite cute with them. He won’t cuddle them though, I’m sorry.

The first time he saw your plushie collection was when you invited him to your house and allowed him to look around.

He knew you loved plushies but seeing just how many you had, he couldn’t fathom how you afforded them all. Or how you manage to give them all attention, but you do.

He actually sits on your bed and listens intently as you introduce every single stuffie to you. He genuinely cares.

And you better believe he wrote all their names in his notebook. Just please don’t let Dazai see.

He will buy you more plushies for your collection. He keeps tabs on your favorite plushies too. Say you love squish mallows and there’s a rare one coming out, he’ll make sure you get it.

He does sometimes get jealous of your plushies though. There’s been a few times he’s come home to you asleep with your favorite plush in your arms, when it should be him. Eh, it’s his fault for being gone late at work no?

It takes a while for him to let you move in, but he doesn’t stop you from taking over his apartment. There’s always special plushies that stay there. Gifts from him and ones you think resemble him. Whether that’s physical appearance or personality. He found himself comforted by their presence when you aren’t there. The fact they smell like you being a bonus. He will never tell you this though. He will die before admitting it.

The most common cuddle positions involve spooning or laying against his chest. If it’s sitting, then you’re somehow in his lap, or laying your head in it if possible.

It’s become a ritual for you to lay on top of him and tell him all about your day, while he plays with your hair and listens intently. It’s fun listening to his heartbeat pick up as he tells you about the stupid thing Dazai had done today.

It’s also the most convenient if either of you feel like reading a book. He does it a lot, he reads through his book or writes in them to prepare for things.

He’s not the best with you being cuddly and affectionate at work, not at first. It didn’t help that a certain suicidal maniac was his partner and would never leave him alone about it. But after rejecting your affections and see how sad it made you, he learned his lesson and will always allow you to be affectionate with him in public. Not too much though.

Actually now that I think about it Dazai has probably playfully flirted with you (in the dumbest ways) as you sit in Kunikidas lap, asking you to commit double suicide with him, etc. Just to drive his partner insane. You both know that, Kunikida still tries to kill him though. Dazai waits for you to be in his lap since he knows you don’t like to be disturbed and Kunikida can’t get up to hit him.

Funnily enough Ranpo helps ease Kunikidas mind about the affection in the office. You two are great friends by the way. He helped you bully Kunikida into being affectionate with you in the office once. It was great.

I’m sorry though, it doesn’t happen much that you’re affectionate in the office. Cuddles are one thing, which is stretching him enough, but kisses are another. And that’s usually a no. It’s not appropriate in the work place. Sometimes some pecks here and there are okay, but he wouldn’t make out with you.

Behind closed doors or at home though he loves kissing you. I hope you know that. He’s addicted. But that’s a story for another time.

main hub ✦ masterlist ✦ to do list

[obsidianpen]

Hermione's first, immediate thought was, Who the fuck is that? And her second thought, which came less than a second later, was, polyjuice potion.

“Wow,” Hermione said as Tom closed the door. She had to bite back a laugh, too, because… he was old.

Old, far from attractive, and nearly the antithesis of the Tom Riddle she’d grown accustomed to. The muggle man who owned the cottage must have been in his seventies, with a slight hunchback, balding head, and short, steely gray beard. The only thing he had in common with Tom was that they were nearly the same height, which explained why his clothes still fit well enough.

Tom grinned at her in a way that Hermione imagined would look very wrong on this man to anyone who knew him. His teeth were yellow, crooked, and two were missing. “You have no idea,” he said, speaking in a gravelly and unfamiliar voice. “This poor bastard has terrible lower back pain, not to mention what I suspect is arthritis just about everywhere.”

He took his coat off—the hunchback looked much more pronounced without it—and he glanced at the clock. “Thank Merlin I only have about three minutes left of this. At least, I think—give or take a minute. I only took half the vial…”

Hermione noted the time. It was a little after one. He’d only been gone an hour. 

Hermione stood, unable to stop herself from smirking. “The mighty and fearsome Heir of Slytherin everyone,” she said, gesturing widely. 

He glared at her. The effect was far less intimidating in this body. “Cute,” he said.

“It is. I think you wear an old muggle man well.”

“Is that right.” Tom flashed her a smile; it was horrendous.

“Oh, yeah," Hermione said, laughing. "It’s a huge improvement.”

Tom looked like he was barely able to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” he said. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out four small brown paper bags, tiny enough that they all fit into the palm of one of his hands. 

Hermione was effectively distracted. “If there aren’t more books in there, I’m going to cry again,” she threatened.

“Oh, my sweet darling girl,” Tom murmured. And rather than explain further, he set the bags on the table and waved his wand over them. They grew and grew until they proved to be much larger than Hermione expected. They were big and beautifully full.

“Careful,” Tom said, for Hermione was already ripping into one. “Not all of them are very nice.”

Books, books, books! Hermione’s smile was uncontainable as she pulled out heavy book after heavy book, some more ominous looking than others, and—

“OW!”

Hermione dropped the most recent one she’d been holding, some thick tome bound in black leather. “This one—it shocked me or something!”

The offending book had a title written in Latin. A quick glance told Hermione it was, unsurprisingly, about ancient dark curses. 

“Yes, I did just warn you,” Tom said slyly. He moved to stand behind her, wrapping one arm around her waist as he did. “That one requires a... gentle touch,” he explained. “Calm energy. Focused. Doesn’t respond well to chaos; outright refuses to open for anything less than collected, intentional deliberation.”

He reached down, and Hermione saw that his hand was no longer the weathered and old but pale, flawless. He ran his fingers along the cover in a fluid motion, then flipped the cover open to reveal a page written entirely in Latin.

Hermione looked up at him, but his eyes were on the book. Her breath caught. Maybe it was simply because she had just been looking at an ugly old man a moment before, but Tom looked exceptionally beautiful now. His angular jawline, his high cheekbones, his perfect skin. Those hypnotic eyes and those lips…

His hand resting on her waist suddenly felt heavy and hot, even though it was the lightest touch. Hermione swallowed hard and said, “What does it say?”

Tom continued to scan the page, his eyes going back and forth in a way that told Hermione that he could not only translate Latin, but that he was quite well versed in it. She wondered if he kept reading because the book was demanding his attention, or he was just that enthralled. She suspected the latter.

Finally, he looked at her. “Hermione. Don't tell me you can't read Latin yourself," he said chidingly.

“I can translate it well enough,” Hermione said. “But I’m afraid the book might stab me or something if I try right now.”

Tom seemed to take a moment to process this—and Hermione felt herself blush, because she was admitting that she could not possibly be calm or focused just then—and slowly smiled. “The page I just read begins to explain the process of adjusting the strength of curses in order to use them for a wider array of applications,” he said. “Fascinating stuff.”

“Yeah,” Hermione said. “I’m sure it is.”

They were perfectly still for a moment, eyes locked as he looked at her from over her shoulder, Hermione’s back against his chest. He’d only just walked through the door, and already she felt uncomfortably warm, that feeling like electricity charging the air.

“...But those books aren’t for you.”

Tom stepped away, picking up the frightening book he’d just read from, and closed it. He set it aside and reached into a different bag, then pulled out one that could not have looked more different. This book was much smaller, bright pink, and on the cover was a moving image of a pretty blonde witch smiling and winking.

The title was in English. It read, ‘The Glam Witch’s Guide to All Things Fertility’ by Justine Hayes.

[jonesywrites]

I feel compelled, so I must.

*Now with images for context

Man I shit you not, I have so much stuff to do like SO MUCH but I also have ADHD and a tendency toward hyperfixation so I am compelled, I tell you.

I'm writing for a whole ass other ship, filming, and editing for my YT channel. But I saw gifs, and I read tweets, and I saw hot takes and then I decided to react to Season 3 Part I for my channel.

I AM OBSESSED.

I'm in the middle of editing my reactions to Ep 1-4 and I just HAVE to chime in with these observations I keep having as I go through and re-live each Polin scene while editing. I know some of this has been seen/said before but I'm a newb to this fandom and I just finished listening to all of the audiobooks (save Simon and Daphne's story) so I just gotta! I OBSERVED A LOT and there's a lot here, so . . .

Colin turns to the Featherington house as soon as he arrives home and greets his family.

Because whether he's aware of it or not, he's thinking of one of those Featheringtons, who happens to be standing there as he debuts "the new Colin" to the people he cares about the most -- which includes Pen, they are telegraphing to us in this moment -- (right after testing some of that newfound charm on a gaggle of giggly girls). I don't think he greets her right away because he isn't ready yet but you can see his smile/smirk when he spots her -- like "Yep, Pen, feast your eyes, it's the new me, and NOW I'll bet you'll want to hear about my travels."

Eloise is the first person to spot that he may not really be into this "new Colin".

The show GOES OUT OF ITS WAY to let you know this isn't really Colin, that his heart isn't really into it, from jump. The siblings Bridgerton do a little "we see each other" when he questions her about trying to fit into society after all this time -- they're two sides of the same coin. He's too sensitive and romantic for the rakes of the ton and she's too independent and free-thinking for the boring trappings of the marriage mart, but here they both are. Pretending.

Colin goes out of his way to test his new charm on half the ladies at the Queen's garden party thing BEFORE he approaches Pen to talk for the first time since he got back -- at first glance he's just doing his thing, being the new him, enjoying himself and his new ability to woo the ladies but IT IS THIS AUTHOR'S HUMBLE OPINION THAT HE WAS TESTING HIS CHARM TO ITS LIMITS BEFORE HE WENT OVER TO THE ONE GIRL HE ACTUALLY WANTS TO/TRUELY ENJOYS CONVERSING WITH TO LAY IT ON HER.

Wanna bet me he wasn't thinking about Pen while he was away, wondering why she wasn't answering, plotting to talk to her when he got back, plotting to see if his new charm would work on her because she's Pen and her opinion means a lot to him? He doesn't get why yet but it's there -- the tip of the iceberg, only a strong desire for her attention and approval right now, but I can sooooo see how that started to quickly burn into a much more intense desire for just...her.

I adore how Penelope asks the dressmaker for new dresses in the fashion of "what they are wearing in Paris" after Colin tells her his new wardrobe is what's all the rage in Paris from is travels.

He always counts on her just being Pen in the citrus colors hanging on the wall, a safe place, but then he sees her in that green dress and I truly believe this is the moment he realizes -- nah fam, this isn't just "Pen my friend who doesn't count (as a woman)", this is "wow who is that woman in the striking color with pretty lips and fiery red hair?"

This poor lovesick fellow has no idea why every time he sees her at a ball his heart does a funny thing and he suddenly can't see anyone else and he gets the urge to drink whatever's in his hand/close by.

HEY BABE IT'S BECAUSE YOU LIKE HER. A LOT. She isn't just Pen who doesn't count, she is SPECIAL.

Much has been said about the "Goodnight, Mr. Bridgerton" scene, but I'll just add that you can tell when Colin is being genuine and totally himself vs when he's trying to charm her into relaxing with him/being more like her usual self.

When he says "the colour rather suits you," he's being her good friend who is pleased to see her looking so good but he's also saying that to himself, judging by his tone, like "yeah girl you should wear green more often, this makes you look damn good". And when he says he misses her, he means it, but you can also hear the armor of that New Colin Charm in his tone. It's a vulnerable thing to admit, so he uses a devilish smile and has a wink in his eyes because so far that has worked on every girl here since he got back. Not Pen, though ... he was SHOOK when she rebuffed him and called him cruel.

Yes, he is absolutely panicked that he might lose his one true friend in all of the fickle ton, but also . . . Colin is totally realizing how hot Pen is in the garden scene. Colin is looking into her gorgeous eyes and admitting how she makes him feel and you can see the real-time realization in his eyes/expression. Handshake? He is acting on his impulse to touch her while using his newfound charm to disguise his curiosity.

Colin wants to hang out with her as much as possible because that's how comfortable and appreciated she makes him feel but also it's my opinion that he, at least subconsciously, also wants to keep looking at her, getting closer to her, winning her favor. He's not even thinking about the results of the whole charm lessons thing, he's just thinking about being around Penelope as much as possible because of that realization that she makes existing in a world that is determined to misunderstand him (and has "forced" him to don a mask/facade to survive) bearable.

I agree with those who pointed out that he is taken aback by Pen's awkward flirting session with the fan because normally when they're alone talking all he sees/experiences is her wit, intelligence, keen ability to read between the lines of their society, etc.

Also, you can see he doesn't even care what the other blokes think of her, he thinks she's friggin adorable -- he can't keep the smile off his face even as he's sympathizing with her for going down faster than the Titanic-which-doesn't-exist-yet-duh-but-analogy-with-me-here.

Every moment of the private lesson scene, from him instantly abandoning the card game with his siblings to the way he planned out the whole thing and thought about where everyone would be and what window of time they'd have to "practice" shows THAT HE WAS IN FACT VERY EAGERLY AWAITING HER VISIT for their lesson. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one who suggested the game in the garden to get everyone out of the house in anticipation of Pen’s arrival.

It is this author's humble opinion that Colin really, really wanted to pretend to flirt with Penelope to satisfy his nagging, subconscious (yet fluttering to the surface) curiosity and I AM WILLING TO BET MY TWIN SISTER'S WHOLE 2024 SALARY that (especially after her compliment shook him to his core) they wouldn't have made it much longer without him kissing her if they hadn't been interrupted and she had't read his journal.

He wanted alone time, he wanted intimacy, he wanted to flirt -- they would have charmed each other right into each other's pants if those lessons were allowed to continue, mark my words.

Colin's body was at least several weeks ahead of him. The body doesn't lie. Touching her skin in the garden. Leaning into her whenever they speak (with the convenient excuse of their height difference), pressing his palm into her lower back to escort her to the drawing room, sitting and letting her hold his hand for an unnecessarily long pause before forcing himself to stop staring at her and end the impropriety (escape the intensity of the moment to breathe and process, more like).

Jealous Colin(tm) with his intense eyes and hard jawline is everything and hot af, end of observation.

I love Dream Pen for Colin. The way he dressed her. The way his mind envisions her being breathless for him.

The way he pictures himself just holding her close and indulging in hot, sultry kisses until she's practically melting in his arms. THIS IS WHAT HE DREAMS ABOUT, WHAT HE TRULY WANTS. This boy is a Romantic with a capital ROMANTIC and I JUST LOVE how his dream about Pen reflects that so clearly. We've seen him struggling to pay attention or care in brothels but he displays more sexual intensity, passion, and lust in this romantic wet dream about simply confessing his feelings than any other time he's seen on screen with a woman he's supposed to find attractive.

The "Sweet Treats" scene, as I believe I've seen others pointing out, is --yes, sweet-- at a glance. But also HOT AF. He's pining, he's nervous, he's jealous, she's so sweet and lovely confessing her excitement and hopes for the match with Deblin. But it's also hot b/c I meeeean....The pink everywhere (pink walls, get it), her lips and his reaction to her glancing her tongue across them, his fingers flexing out of nerves but also the subconscious urge to touch, maybe even caress, is all in his stiff, hovering body language. Like, if he could shove those treats off one of those tables, throw her against it and ravage her "sweet treat" right then there in that pink little tent, homeboy totally would have if society/propriety/scandal/watching eyes weren't a concern.

SIDENOTE: I think Deblin was definitely attracted to Pen, it wasn't SOLELY a practical match for him.

He says she can make men wither within seconds of their first meeting and he definitely looks at her in a way that says he's charmed, intrigued, impressed, etc. So I think even they married, eventually he would start to miss her while away, then ache for her, then he would come home to her and he would fall. Gradually maybe, but I do believe Pen was right to hope love could grow between them. However, I'm so so sooo glad neither of them settled.

WHAT CAN BE SAID ABOUT THE CARRIAGE SCENE THAT HASN'T ALREADY BEEN SAID??? It's one of the hottest love scenes I've ever seen, and it's not because everybody is naked or because there's kink or anything crazy. It's because (for me) the actors TRULY CARE ABOUT THE DETAILS. Almost every frame has something you can freeze and stare at in awe, they DID THAT. Colin finally FEELING IT, with the one person who can truly see him and inspire those deep feelings he's been yearning for was HOT AF. Pen basically being at his mercy but also realizing her power over him and embracing it by letting him ruin her because it's COLIN (she wouldn't let anyone else do that, IMO, not even Deblin). MY FAVORITE PART:

At the end, when they exhale and slump into each other/the carriage seat in sync. She looks like she's never felt anything like this in her life (cuz she ain't) and he looks like he's finally HOME. And I'm not talking about his family's estate -- I specifically mean right there in Penelope's bosom, between her legs, her breath, her eyes, her moans for him, like he looks relieved and satisfied AND THEN HE'S LIKE "SO I'M NEVER LETTING THIS GO. DONE DEAL, YOU'RE MY PENELOPE, NOW."

Ugh. I loooove this couple! I HAD TO GET THIS OUT OF MY BODY. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. Gonna add stills for the moments I mention once Tumblr stops being a bitch.

[nevarroes]

hi, new to this blog - just want to say, im absolutely obsessed. you art is incredible, both in skill, and clear love for your work. im so enamored by these two. i scroll through your art tag and just - wow. i love how each time you draw him, he gets bigger. i love the tenderness, eroticism, and also love in each drawing.

however, being as new as i am, i feel a little behind on the lore behind these characters (your lore, i mean. not canon lore haha) i tries finding a post perhaps with some backstory but i can't, so i hope you don't mind answering my question if someone's already asked it/you've already talked about it.

what's the story behind gortash gaining weight? as in, (apologies if im awful at explaining) is it a clear feeder/feedee relationship, or is the weight gain just a side effect of cas feeding him a lot, and he just kind of accepted it? i hope i explain this well, english is not my first language haha.

Hi, first of all thank you so much, it truly means a lot to me that there's still people like getting interested in them and all!💜 I've covered some of this in older asks (like ages ago, I admit) but more than happy to summarize it again here

So to Cas, it’s not about the fetish—he’s not generally into fat people or the kink at all (quite the opposite, actually). It’s more about control and the damage done, if that makes sense. Cas wanted to have power over Gortash, hoping it’d both ruin him in a way and make him unappealing to others, maybe even make him dependent on Cas. Physical attraction wasn’t really the factor in the beginning, Cas was just obsessed with Gortash and by nature he’s not capable of "mild" feelings like some simple crush. Even before Gortash got fat, it’s not that like…. Cas found him irresistibly attractive or something, that was never the actual thing

It wasn't obvious from the get-go either, Cas began by inviting him to eat more and over every business they discussed, subtly enabling him without even really knowing himself what he was trying to achieve. Cas holds himself to an extremely high standard when it comes to fitness and nutrition (I’ve mentioned this before but he has a horrible relationship with his body and eating considering his past as an incubus and trying to live up to certain things. It's an eating disorder if we want to be real, but its a bit different since when in the Hells he doesn’t technically need to eat). Cas usually finds people who let themselves go gross and undisciplined, but Gortash was viewed differently by him. He wasn’t fat before either (probably wouldve made Cas absolutely not interested anymore), but he ate a lot of junk and was excitable by a good meal, which seemed strange for a man that Cas considered to be oddly similar in behavior to devils. Gortash still didn’t that eat much though, since he prioritized work and would often forget to eat (before Cas that is)

Cas found this intriguing more than anything—how could someone like Gortash, who carries himself the way he does, have a slight weakness for something as trivial as food? So, it became a bit of a game, seeing how far he could push Gortash. He realized he could go pretty far, Gortash even let Cas influence him to the point of discomfort and physical weakness. U know, overeating until he was clearly not in the position to fight back and if Cas wanted, he could exploit that.

Gortash obviously noticed what Cas was doing too but since he couldn’t find a logical explanation for it, he allowed it to continue, out of curiosity more than anything. he didn’t care much about getting a little fat and he knew he would, but his power to him was always in his intellect and words, not his physical form. Early on he made some snide comments too, like asking if Cas was trying to make him fat to take his power and telling him how it was a rather inefficient tactic. But Cas never stopped, and Gortash let him continue. In a way, it was some twisted gesture of affection from Cas too… he doesn’t seem like the type who’d go out of his way to keep someone fed or remember their favorite treats and then attempt to send 10 deliveries of it, yet there he was. And Gortash, though he’d never admit it at the time, enjoyed having someone "show up" for him and him personally instead of his power or his work, in some strange way😖

Over time, it just kind of progressed further into the whole feeding thing. Gortash didn’t feel the need to stop since he saw how much joy it brought Cas and it wasn’t hurting him in his eyes. So it got to the point of Gortash allowing him to hand feed him and all too and well… yeah. Cas found the whole thing turning him on too of course, not just because of what it did to Gortash’s body, but because it was something Cas caused. It showed the control he had over Gortash—proof that his influence wasn’t just in mind games or his imagination—in a physical way. I wanna say that it still is definitely genuione attraction, it’s just a very specific… scenario that developed out of Cas’ obsession with Gortash mixed with his destructive tendencies and abosolute horrid relationship with body image and stuff. So… its not that Cas is into fat people or would have this kink with anyone else, it’s that he’s into Gortash, and he wants to "possess" him completely

I went further into detail about like… a few topics related to this in past asks but i can’t link them all as it really depends what ur curious about! But here’s the tag pages in case you didn't see them, I do try to tag everything that might be interesting at some point so it's not sorted, more of a "if you get bored you can scroll through it" thing😩

gortcas lore

gortcas nsfw lore (a lot of shit here but the blog got censored, there's a new tag on my side blog now but most info is here)

[leresq]

Finally watched Deadpool and Wolverine. First of all I was not coming into this with high hopes because even though everyone was talking about how good this movie is I've never found the Deadpool movies funny. To me they're just different variations of "You haven't seen this in an Iron Man movie" stretched into two now three feature length films. But honestly I liked it at the end.

- Why are Logan's ears and one of his eyes not decayed when no other part of his body is intact? Why does he have a beard on his jawbone?

- I'll bite, the Bye Bye Bye is a fun idea. The wintery forest setting is cool.

- I can't enjoy that opening fight scene because it's not how anything works. You don't get bludgeoned with a dull object, have your body armour completely give way, and have a pint of blood splash out. I understand the whole point of Deadpool is that it's over the top, but this is just so overly gratuitous it's insane. I feel like Marvel Studios felt like they had to make it so unrealistically violent to try and separate it from the mainline MCU to get the people who have Deadpool funko pops to guffaw in the theatre. It's "You haven't seen this in an Iron Man movie" with zero words spoken. Honestly incredible.

- The CGI is better than it's been recently but it's still noticeably bad

- Peter Parker's Iron Man mask is on the desk in the background! How did that even get there.

- Why is Tony's ARC reactor on the table, I thought that was pushed into the river at the funeral

- The timeline is just so incredibly fucked. I still don't understand how the X Men timeline reboot works, or how Logan fits into it; if Logan dying means Deadpool's universe collapses, that implies the Logan movie is in the X Men reboot franchise, but Patrick Stewart is in that and James McAvoy plays him in the reboot making me think it's a one off... Augh my head...

- Something looks up with John Favraeu. I don't know if his wearing a wig is supposed to be obvious, I don't know if he's just under a lot of makeup or it's CGI, it's just weird.

- Deadpool is never going to be an Avenger because Marvel Studios would rather execute everyone working for them than give up the licencing deals from making PG13 movies, and Deadpool wouldn't feel the same in a PG13 movie.

- I think any brand would let Ryan Reynolds walk all over them in muddy boots, for some reason he gets the pass to slander anyone he wants to and he gets paid by the companies to do it.

- 'I don't have a lot of v*ginal sex' 🤨 that has numerous connotations. Also can we not do sex jokes in front of 12 year olds

- I was not expecting a Deadpool movie to contain any hints of character development because the previous two instalments seemed to be hellbent on making sure I understood nothing of emotional value would ever be allowed to appear without being undercut by a sex joke.

- "I've never been a natural bottom" 🤨🤨 I thought Poolverine was just the average two male leads naturally gets shipped together thing but no they're sowing the fields

- If that Thor crying over Deadpool never comes back I will say something about it

- If they didn't want me to know Paradox was going to be a villain why would they make him British

- The 'Suck it Fox' cut to nothing being there is the only time I will accept something raising more questions than answering them at this level as funny

- "Your tailor is a predator" caught me so off guard I started coughing

- Wow I wasn't expecting them to pull the Paradox is actually evil card not even a third into the movie. Honestly a good subversion of expectations.

- How is Deadpool's universe going to evaporate in 74 hours, I thought time doesn't exist at the TVA?

- Are they going to explain why Deadpool's suit can just fix itself now. It used to keep its holes.

- Finally, I think the first time we ever hear Deadpool is from Canada in the movies! I wonder if Ryan Reynolds only wanted to play him in the first place because they're both Canadian...

- "You two gonna fuck or fight?" 🤨🤨🤨

- I actually understood the Honey Badger reference

- the FF floating platform thingy is another reference I'm surprised I got

- The Human Torch CGI is actually really cool

- "Not all of you was asleep" after waking up on his shoulder 🤨🤨🤨🤨

- Too many cameos in Cassandra's little alcove so I'm not even going to bother looking for them all

- I'm not sure if Johnny Storm's death was supposed to be played for laughs or just shock value, either way I'm not laughing I loved those movies ;(

- How does Cassandra know she's Xavier's sister if she was sent to the Void before she could walk?

- Wolvie being nice to Johnny post mortem is cool

- Nicepool having a stronger Canadian accent is a good joke, and Deadpool looking on in disgust as Nicepool talks about his dog's 'G-spot' is good. At least that's not played off as just a normal thing to say even if it is a joke

- "I identify as a feminist" could easily be misconstrued as an 'anti-woke' joke but all of the jokes of a similar calibre in this movie seem to be made ironically. Example: Nicepool is a creep

- "Where's your mask" and Nicepool points to his face actually implying his nice guy attitude is a facade for being a shitty person is actually really good

- Why is Nicepool's car surrounded by untrampled corn, how did it get there? Who grew the corn?

- Deadpool includes Colossus in his world 🥺

- Wolverine is nothing if not an excellent shit talker, and it's actually very out of character for Deadpool to actually get affected by insults

- I wish The Greatest Showman soundtrack was incorporated for more than just a third of a second

- 'Close up magic' ant man reference?

- 'There's only ever gonna be one Blade' about that...

- I think that's Apocalypse's throne in Cassandra's room? Or Thanos's

- I never thought about how both Cassandra and Xavier's powers radiate from their heads until the Juggernaut helmet scene

- Finally some real actual genuine character development that's not thrown away for a joke!!! The best part of the movie to me was Cassandra's redemptio-. Oh. Nevermind. Anyway I like it better than if it were just shoved away for a joke then she died

- Deadpool waiting for the 'extras' to clear was, to me, a good indication that he's a hero now. Caring about civilians is #1 on my makes you a good guy requirements

- "You smell something?" "Yeah you" 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

- And there it is. Nicepool's death is probably the most predictable death I've ever seen on film.

- Eastside Pharmacy?! Agatha All Along reference???

- Wolverine's helmet looks like a rubber playground ball

- Will Marvel Jesus come back in three days however?

- Staring at Hugh's abs? Same, but 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

- That hand holding ending was actually impressive, I wasn't sure what was going to happen and it actually kicked ass

- Is the guy with the mug who stared at Deadpool in the beginning Marvel's first gay character

- The introducing Logan to Blind Al is so unbelievably 'the parents meeting the boyfriend' I could die there's no fucking way that wasn't on purpose

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

if is it ok to request, what if April brought her best friend down to meet the bayverse turtles? But her bestie is goth/punk with piercings and tattoos? looks a little intimidating but an abseloute sweetheart?<3

love this idea, thank you for your patience as it's taken me so long to get to this x

Also this is 100% like my best friend, they're super goth and tatted up to the 9's but they're also a massive sweetheart

Leo

"hey, I have someone I want you to meet" April calls from the doorway to the lair

Leo knows who she wants him to meet, she's been going on and on about how this friend is finally in town and she would love to hang out, all of you guys together

he puts on all his charm

"And who is this lovely-"

then he sees her

lips, eyebrows and nose pierced, hair dyed in an acid green/black split dye, dark and black ripped up clothes, tattoos covering every inch of visible skin

"-wow" is all he can make out

she's the complete opposite of April looks wise

"No, keep going. You were about to tell me how lovely I look" she jokes. "Hey, I may not be barbie girl pretty but I bet 'ya anything I can kick your ass at call of duty!"

that softens the mood and makes everyone a little more relaxed

and she was totally right, Leo was fighting for his life playing that game with her

when it's finally time for them to leave she calls back "And if you think my hair is cool, just wait til you see what I can do with a paint brush, that shell of your's is going to put the Sistine Chapel to shame when I'm done with it!"

Leo just laughs, thinks she's a great girl

"Never judge a book by its cover" he mouths to April as she walks out the door

Raph

He knows April is there, he can hear her joking with Mikey but he can hear another woman's voice

he walks in to say hi and stops dead in his tracks when he sees who she's with

"......"

"Raph, it's rude to stare" April scolds

"It's ok" he friend reassures "I just have a natural allure that's irresistible to men and turtles alike, it would seem"

that makes him chuckle, she's funny, he's glad she's funny

"The, erm, the..." He keeps touching his nose, clearly indicating towards her septum piercing "... like a bull" is all he manages

"Well, I am a taurus" she quips back

he laughs again

tensions settle after that and he gets on with her like a house on fire

he asks her later what he first impression of him was, since it was clear he was taken aback by her appearance

"My first thought was whether or not you'd fit through the door frame, holy shit dude you're built like a truck!"

the rest of the evening is spent with a lot of joking and laughing, April's friend can give as good as she gets and Raph likes that

Mikey

He's so excited to meet April's friend

so much so, he's prancing round the place trying to get everything ready

when April walks through the door with her, he his jaw drops

"Devil lady!" he says in a tone which indicates he clearly thought that was a compliment

"Masked turtle man!" she replies with the exact same enthusiasm

the two of them bond over how cool she is and how cool Mikey is

comparing stories and boasting, all in good fun, until they both get a bit carried away

April has to put her foot down when her friend tries to give him a stick 'n poke tattoo on the kitchen floor

"It's not sanitary! Put the ball point pen away! He's gonna get sepsis!!!"

eventually they all retire to the sofa and play guitar hero, which April's friend does not do too well at

"I thought all you punk chicks knew how to play guitar" he says

"Nope, we just date guys who do" she laughs

After they leave Mikey is begging April to bring her round again

he still wants that tattoo

Donnie

He's not the best at meeting new people

but, he actually feels more comfortable when he see's April's friend is alternative looking

he loves a good social outcast because he is one

they bond over talking about the history of subcultures and the ecological impacts of fast fashion and why you should DIY all your clothes or thrift them

April is ind of just sitting there like "what have I done? Putting two nerds in the same room..."

When the subject of tattoos gets brought up she mentions a couple she regrets

cue Donnie and his inventions

"I have a laser remover!"

"No" April pipes up

"It's totally safe, it's just-"

"N-O! No!" she reiterates

her friend mouths "When she's gone" and winks at him

the two of them are fast friends