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g0dlyunsub · 2 days

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hey!!! Ugh I just love your account! I have a request for Spencer Reid x fem reader!! Can you do one where he is always working and it makes the reader upset bc he is cancelling dates and coming home late and kinda neglects her feelings and doesn't really notice how much it affects her and how sad she gets and then he misses their anniversary dinner and she breaks and tells him that it makes her upset when he's gone all the time and he just feels so awful bc he's so in love with her and never wants her to feel that way because of him and apologizes and reassures her and makes sure she feels loved!!

ty for the request and i loved the idea for this one!

wishful thinking.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

warnings :: angst with a fluffy ending; very mild makeout session at the end :3

word count :: 2.4k

author’s note :: i kind of giggled at the ending as i was writing it, but i’m pretty proud of how this one turned out!

accompanying song :: neverthere by xander

spencer’s phone is quite literally the bane of your existence.

you know what to expect whenever it rings, so you hate when it actually does – its earthquaking vibrations and trilled beeps tear the happiness straight out of you.

it’s the second date in a row that he’s had to pass, and you wonder if you should just stop trying so hard. was it selfish to want to have him all to yourself, to have him seated right across from you, sharing your laughter as you pass him his plated pasta? were you expecting too much, imagining a serene life with him ten years down the road, perhaps with kids or pets of your own? was it unfair to think that you could craft a lie, telling him your stomach hurt really bad, so bad that you would have to curl up on the floor and pray he’d stay by your side just this once to comfort you?

all you ever wanted was spencer. more specifically, you wanted spencer during your first three dates, when he’d silence all of his phone calls, and wave them off like nothing even though you insisted he take them. maybe if you didn’t bring up the importance of taking work calls, none of this would have ever happened. maybe it was all coming back to bite you for your non-confrontational nature, since you could never plead him to actually stay.

but he’s your boyfriend… and that’s all that matters, right? after all, he has lives to save – people whose names are called out during prayers day and night by their loved ones as they cling on to the sliver of hope that your boyfriend and his team promise during the darkest hours. granted, spencer would drop everything if you were in a similar situation, but none of your problems have actually been life-threatening. but a girl can dream, can’t she? your first anniversary date was when spencer promised to make amends, a formal compensation for all of the past dates that he missed and left you feeling empty on your shared bed, stains of mascara chalked up on your dry cheeks.

“i’m so sorry, honey, i’ve just been… called in for work,” spencer stands, dusting the napkin that was folded nicely on his lap. you watch as he takes a sip of his glass of water, then walks over to you to plant a kiss on your forehead.

he runs his fingers along the velvety texture of the sleeves of your dress, and you offer him a weak smile.

“it’s okay, duty calls, right?” you feel the tears surfacing and you have to fight yourself to not blink. it’s too early to cry.

“i-it’s a really bad one this time, and i hate to do this on such an important day-” spencer begins to apologize frantically, and his face marks an expression of genuine concern with his brows furrowing and lips twitching.

“it’s okay. you need to go, i understand.” you state plainly, and you immediately feel shameful – your words are too assertive and snarly for how you normally respond.

spencer pauses briefly, fidgeting with his fingers, before he gives a slight nod in your direction. he then walks over to the couch, grabs a book, and tightens the clasps on his bag.

“i’ll be back as fast as i can,” spencer utters quietly and walks out of the door. when the apartment door locks with a click, you break down immediately.

at first, the tears fall one by one. but then, a salty stream evident of pure emotional wreckage makes its way into the slight gap of your lips, and it’s an unstoppable domino effect. your shoulders shudder and heave as you struggle to catch breaths in between, and you splutter cries of your boyfriend’s name.

maybe it would’ve been better to just stay as conversational partners, to exchange updates once in a while when he’d actually commit to a time. it was your fault for getting your hopes up high, and all of this – fanciful dinner and dressing your best for the occasion – was wishful thinking. you just didn’t want to admit it.

“y/n?”

you look up to see spencer in front of the doorway, and his bag that was barely holding on to his shoulder drops to the floor with a thud.

you quickly look away, brushing the tears away with one arm and sniffle before choking out a response.

“i thought you left already, why are you here?” again, your words come out icier than you had hoped and hit you with a sharp pang of guilt.

spencer narrows his eyes ever so slightly as if he’s scrutinizing you, observing your body language. it doesn’t take a genius to know that you’re upset.

“i was going to. realized i forgot-,”

he clears his throat when you raise your eyebrows and proceeds, "i misplaced my wallet."

he slips out of his loafers, shoving aside his pair of converses that lie adjacent to your pretty pair of heels. he walks over to you, and you realize that you’re still seated at the dining table. you must look so stupid right now, waiting as if he’d just be returning from a bathroom break.

“i need to head out, but i promise… i promise we’ll talk about this really soon. we’ll have the anniversary dinner and-”

“did you even try?” you blurt out, and you look up at him with your puffy eyes glazed with tears.

a deathly silence clouds over the entire apartment, and you’re thinking of two options: leave the apartment and go run to a friend’s place, or confront him and see whether making amends – again, wishful thinking – would be possible.

“y/n. please believe me when i say that i’ve tried to, i’ve tried-”

you slam a hand to the table before standing up, your face twisting into an expression of outrage.

“no, because then you would’ve silenced it. you would’ve cut the call, just like you used to.” you fire your words at him as your hair sticks to the drying tears on your cheeks, and you begrudgingly wipe at your face.

a slow sigh escapes from spencer’s lips, and he looks at you with those eyes – the eyes that seemingly warn you, saying you don’t want to go there. not right now.

but you double down on him, the rage fueling your words as you lash out.

“it was just this one time. i only wanted you to stay for dinner just this one time.” you helplessly drop your hands to your sides, the tears landing on the floor with soft plops.

“i know. and i’m terribly sorry.” spencer bites his bottom lip and takes a step toward you. but you take a step back, and maybe that pulls a string between the two of you, because you can see how his shoulders tense up.

“look, can we talk about this when i get back? i’ll make it up to you, i swear.” he combs through his hair, the stress almost palpable as it leaks from his shaking fingers.

while you know he has to head out again, the way he so easily brushes off the conversation like it’s something he doesn’t even want to think about feeds into your disbelief. soon, however, your anger subsides into a tired frown.

“i don’t know, you might come home late… when i’m asleep or something.” you look at the wall where a photo of the two of you is framed, and you weakly smile at how happy you seemed then.

“i’ll give you a call, is that okay?” he searches your face for any signs of approval, but you’re zoned out thinking about the past, of how everything used to be.

“whatever, just go.” you wave him off and walk to the couch, where you lie down and turn against him to face the plush fabric.

spencer sighs, and his hand looms over your head momentarily before he grabs his wallet from the table. you hear a faint sorry trail from behind as he leaves the room, and your nails claw at the arms of the couch before the darkness cradles you once again.

it’s 10:30 pm, and you hear the doorknob click again. you had just cleaned up the dishes after eating dinner alone and left his portion in the fridge. you were now changed into your pajamas and getting ready for your night routine.

you peep out of your bedroom door to see spencer, his suit all wet. he looks at you as he takes off his shoes, and a sullen expression paints his face. did it start raining after he left? you realize that you were mostly cooped up in the bedroom since his departure, so you wouldn’t have known.

bravely looking up at him in the eye, you state: “you came back early.” you hate how unwelcoming you sound in his own home.

he pauses before he sets his wet bag on the floor and removes his blazer jacket to throw over a chair.

he approaches you, hands in his pockets and hair twisted in matted curls.

“hm.” he grabs a towel from the closet and makes his way to the shower, brushing past your shoulder. you feel an icy shudder spread through your spine after he closes the bathroom door.

was he giving you the silent treatment right now?

you hear the water start from the bathroom and you sink into your bed while turning to twist the lamp lights on.

after all that torturous waiting you went through, he was giving you the silent treatment?

fifteen minutes later, a knock reverberates from the other side of the bedroom door, and even though you don’t respond, spencer steps in. he’s changed into a t-shirt and black pajama pants, and he drops next to you on the bed.

“i’m taking the week off.”

the sentence startles you, and it’s something so unexpected you choke on your own saliva.

“what, what do you mean you’re taking the week off?” you ask him, finally turning to face him in the eyes. his brown irises blaze into your own.

“i’ve been pushing off everything you wanted to do with me — things that I wanted to do with you — and i’ve just been…” he turns away to play with the wrinkles on his pants as he speaks, picking out the dust that lies embedded between the folds.

he pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a deep sigh. he continues, “i don’t know if it’s all worth it.”

silence casts a blanket over the two of you.

“spence,” you say after a while, and hesitantly lay a hand on his thigh.

“nothing’s more important in the world to me than you. you and your happiness. i know you love this job and i know you love helping people. you’re such a kind hearted man, and it’s why i fell in love with you in the first place.”

when spencer gives you no response, you confess: “spence, i get jealous sometimes.”

this time his eyes widen, and he looks at you.

“you do?” he asks softly, peering into your eyes and you cave instantly.

“of course i do. it’s… everybody wants you, spencer. we all need you, whether we realize it or not.”

he scoffs.

“but i only want you.”

his voice is raspy yet mellow at the same time, the smoothest stream of sweetness seeping through your eardrums. god. you can never stay mad at this gorgeous man, the same man that made you cry on numerous occasions just counting the past week.

“you need to do more than that, if you… you know.” you quietly murmur as you fidget with the hem of your nightgown.

“i know,” he speaks with a hushed tone. “i told hotch, and i told him it was going to happen whether he liked it or not. the demands of this job are… tough, but i don’t want to miss out on all the things we planned together. i won’t.”

you start bawling right when he delivers the last word, and all the tears that you were holding back spill over your flushed cheeks. your boyfriend immediately leans in to console you, pulling you into a tight embrace as his chin rests on top of your head.

it’s okay, he murmurs reassuringly. you ease into his touch, and you realize how much you missed this. how much you missed spending time with him.

his left hand tugs lightly at your soft hair while his right rubs your back in smooth circles.

“i missed you,” you speak with a hushed voice, looking up into his eyes as a glassy coat of tears blur your vision.

he cups your face with his hands before whispering, “i missed you too.”

you continue to blabber words of love-stained anguish but he cuts you off short, pulling you in for a short kiss on your lips, which are now tainted with your tears.

“you taste… salty,” he whispers, giving you a slight smile as he brushes off the rest of your tears that weigh down on your eyelashes.

“it’s because of you, silly,” you drawl as you taste the salty residue of your tears.

yeah, spencer responds hesitantly. but he’s wearing a small smile, tilting his head to one side as his eyes emit a glint of tranquilizing peace.

he reaches into his pajama pocket and takes out a piece of candy. you curiously watch as his fingers quickly remove the wrapper, revealing a glazed cherry-flavored sphere.

“may i?” he asks, and his faint voice is a gravitational force that you can’t resist.

you briefly respond with a lazy hm? before he plops the candy into your mouth and kisses you again. the sweetness explodes like fireworks with his warm breath, and the sticky layer of sugar melts like acid on your intertwined tongues. you let out a satisfied hum when you pull back, and it’s undeniably attractive the way spencer licks the corner of his lips.

a tear falls from your eye again, and this time, it’s not out of sorrow.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #mgg x reader

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jeongharine · 2 days

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syntax ERROR: the right formula

⚝ wonwoo x reader

⚝ comedy, smut

⚝ notes: you and wonwoo decide to take the thing between you on level two. but no one has to know about it. you would rather die than to have someone figure out about your sexual escapades with the local nerdy fuckboy. it is an ego thing. (part i)

(thanks to everyone who read and liked part one, i’ve never received such an amount of likes for something that i posted <3 i hope you will like this part as well, it is a bit longer but i had a little fun in writing some teasing ooof enjoy it, have a good early summer period and stay safe x)

“can you actually believe that, y/n? he ghosted me for i don’t know three weeks, and then he had the nerve to ask for a tit pic,” nabi sighs, taking a sip from her blue-ish drink.

“you know what? i’m so done with men. all of them. we really ar- are you even listening to me?”

you are caught off guard by the clicking of her fingers in front of your eyes. truth is, you are only half present, the other half of you is scanning the whole floor, trying to see if there’s a certain someone amongst the agglomeration of bodies.

“yeah, sure, sorry,” you apologize, leaning your side against the wall. “i was somewhere else for a second. you were saying that he ghosted you?”

“i’m never talking to him again. or any man.” “hm,” you hum, crossing your arms. you actaully don’t know who she is trying to convince at this point, because that must’ve been the fifth time you heard your friend giving you that speech (during that semester alone).

“really, i don’t know why those guys haven’t been thrown out of the campus yet. they’re a hazard, including your brother from what i’ve heard. sorry. but yeah, they’re a threat to public health,”

you shrug, because honestly you don’t care that much about their business. and that is important to keep it low.

“could be worse, though, i could be one of the poor girls getting fucked by one of them in their spare time,”

oh.

you giggle, a little nervous. “yeah, yeah,” you agree, looking back at the mass of students. “yeah, that’d be totally awful.”

“i couldn’t even count on my fingers the amount of girls that had one night stands with one of them, and somehow proceeded in becoming completely whipped and infatuated, only to be told that they don’t ‘fuck the same person twice’. like… what the fuck is that? who do they think they are? sorry that your brother is involved in this discourse, but he’s kind of a prick,”

you laugh, noticing the tinge of red that covers her cheeks. “you sound really drunk,”

“i’m not bullshitting you. they’re pricks and that’s on period,”

she raises her cup in a silent cheer, and took another sip. “i know you’re not involved in the fuckboy thing that plagues this campus and, honestly, you’re better off that way. but trust me when i say that they aren’t worth the headache,”

with an inattentive nod, you take another peek at the strangers filling the space near you. “i believe you, don’t worry. i know my thing or two,”

the worst part? you do.

and the even worse bit? there are two things wrong with what she has just told you.

number one: yes, they could be kind of jerks sometimes. but they aren’t completely soulless, at least some of them. they are fun to be around, actually, when picked alone and not in group, or when they are not trying to impress someone into sleeping with them.

number two: they fuck the same person twice, if feeling like it. at least wonwoo. and you know that because you’ve been fucking him on and off for the past five months or so.

when you first met him, you weren’t exactly after a “secret friends with benefits” relationship. you just needed a math tutor. but long story short, you didn’t expect to fall victim to his charms, melting under his tender kisses, moaning his name as he rolled his hips against you, edging your orgasm for longer than you can hold it. and you surely didn’t expect to like it as much as you do.

truth is: jeon wonwoo is everything, but he isn’t dumb. he knows that he is attractive and smart as hell - he knows that with his voice so silky and deep just saying the right words is enough to have you in bed with him, and he knows how to use the two things very well.

apart from also corrupting you in games hours.

also, you are human, alright? and there is something extremely tempting about sleeping with your brother best friend, especially when he keeps coming back to you. it’s only nature to want to feel special every once in a while.

again: it is an ego thing.

plus no one ever caught you. not nabi or any of your other friends. as far as you are aware, wonwoo’s group doesn’t know a thing either, which makes you appreciate him even more because you don’t know how hoshi could take this.

so yeah, he isn’t a total douchebag. he has the most basic sense of loyalty.

with a sigh, you push your body away from the wall, fumbling with your purse. you are praying that- oh there he fucking is.

the moment that you see wonwoo, sitting on the couch across from you, you forget how to breathe for a moment.

he looks better than you had anticipated: dressed in all black, with his thighs spread across the seat, ready to be fucked right then and there. his dark long hair is parted in the middle, with a few stubborn strands falling over his angelic features, as his gaze navigates around the room, staring at nothing in particular.

next to him, there is another one of his friends, seokmin, talking about something animatedly but wonwoo is paying no attention.

his expression is one of irritation, you notice, with his thick eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenching. but when his gaze falls on you, however, wonwoo’s perceived annoyance instantly dissipates.

you watch as his eyes meet your own, then he trails down your body with desire, stopping around the level of your thighs for a bit longer than you have predicted.

you know that stare awfully well: it is the same one that he gives you when he sees you around campus, or in the pc-bang when you’re winning or when you actually understand the concepts that he’s teaching you. the silent provocation that tells you, and only you, that he really wants to have some alone time right now.

a tricky smirk sprouts at the corner of his lips, and he leans back against the couch. you follow his movements as he reaches towards his pocket and extracts his phone, staring at you as he does so. he unlocks it, taking a final glance at your expectant features before he starts to type something.

[00:23] wonu: so glad to see that you came

[00:23] wonu: will you do me a favour and meet me in the bathroom upstairs? second door to the right ;)

and what can you do when he’s asking it like this? you take the stairs and you wonder, as you open your way through the crowd of sweaty bodies and spilling drinks, if you aren’t trying too hard to rationalize and catastrophize something that is actually very simple.

a story with a beginning, a middle part, and a satisfying ending: you two want to fuck each other, you do, then you move right forward. no hidden feelings, no strings attached. that’s it. couldn’t get any better than that.

but maybe, it isn’t everything about that, and you know it. it is also about overhearing the other girls talking as you make your way upstairs, complaining about how ridiculously hot and pretty he is. it is about having that steamy, trembling secret between the two of you. it is about knowing that yeah, wonwoo is crazy hot and smart and funny and you can have that whenever you want.

just like the calm before the storm, there is a moment of quietness and stillness between the instant of when you lock the door, and the one when you see him.

as you turn around, dwelling in his proximity, you think about a million things at the same time: about teasing him for his location choice, or maybe about how he must’ve been going through a drought, if he has to count on his covert booty call to get laid at a party.

before you can say anything, wonwoo’s lips are on yours, attacking your mouth in a fervorous kiss. you whimper in surprise as he pushes you against the closed bathroom door, his hands circling your waist as he squeezes your body against his. your purse falls on the ground with a muffled sound, but you barely even notice it.

it is something else, really. tonight, he’s kissing you as if he physically can’t contain himself long enough to do anything else - as if all that he can think of doing is to feel the heavenly contact of your mouth against his, while your fingers pull strands of his hair.

as he invites his tongue inside your mouth, wonwoo groanes and lowers his hands, squeezing your ass like he is about to lose every last ounce of sanity he has left in him. you sigh as he moves his focus onto your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses.

“someone’s excited,” you comment, slightly breathless. the only response you get is another groan, and the rolling of his hips against your inner thigh where you can feel his dick, already semi-hard, pressing.

“couldn’t even bother to take me somewhere else,”

“i just needed to have you now. have you seen how hot you are?” his voice comes out muffled against your skin, the reverberations of his timbre propagating directly towards your core.

“i see you’re starting to get more adventurous with this,” you bite down on your lower lip and he sucks your flesh, groping your ass once again. “parties and nights out used to be so off limits to you.”

wonwoo chuckles against your neck, moving back towards your mouth. he starts making out with you again, his breath hot and heavy against your face, and you start to think how you could very well pass out seen the level of craving building inside of you.

“i changed my mind.” he speaks as he leans back.

you smirk at his attitude. “we’ll end up getting caught,”

“aw, baby,” he pouts, looking at you with artificial pity. “are you afraid your brother is going to find out?”

okay, he can be kind of a prick sometimes.

“so i can leave, then?” you raise one eyebrow, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck.

“you can, the door is right behind you. you know i’m not one to insist,” wonwoo tells you, quickly losing interest in this part of the conversation. “but something tells me you won’t.”

you don’t even try to respond, because there is nothing to be said: both of you know what you are doing there, and the idea of walking out is just too ridiculous to consider.

with a suspire, you watch as wonwoo moves his lips down your chest, stopping at the fabric of your blouse.

“what if someone hears us?” you suddenly remember, heartbeat quickening at the thought.

“what is it?” he asks as his fingers work on your buttons, exposing more of your chest. the slow pace of his is going to kill you one of these days.

“you’re worried that people are going to find out about this? about us? when you’re always begging to be fucked in the room next to your brother’s one or when there’s someone at my dorm?”

you open your mouth to respond but his chuckle, so deep and melodious, catches you off guard.

“how scandalous, right? you are not the pure little thing you make yourself to be,” wonwoo continues, finally opening your blouse and fully exposing your bra to him. he hums with delight. “red lace? you really want to tease me,”

you swallow dry as he takes the blouse off your shoulders and gently places it beside the sink, above a towel. he can be so thoughtful and gentle.

“wonu, i-“ “you’re such a little brat sometimes, you know that?” he interrupts, eyes following his own movements as his hands circle your body, moving to unclasp your bra. and of course he gets it right on the first try.

“you came all the way up here just to get fucked, and now you’re worried that people are going to know about it,” you stare him down, a smirk already creeping up in the corner of your lips.

“how does that make me a brat?”

he smiles. “don’t try to to play the naive card on me,” another agile movement of his fingers and your bra joins your blouse besides the sink.

wonwoo sighs deeply at your exposed breasts, trying to imprint that sight into the back of his mind. “pretending as if you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. you can drop the act now, y/n,” “i don’t-“ his mouth attacking you is all that you needed to shut up and let him do what he wants really.

overwhelmed by the sensation, you let out a gasp as his hand squeezes you, playing with you as he moans against your skin.

“i love it so much,” he hums, moaning at the marvelous sensation of your warm skin against his tongue. you were almost forgetting how much wonwoo aches to play with your tits - not that you are complaining.

“and i love that it’s all for me,” he breathes out before placing kisses again.

you whimper at the contact, arching your back in a failed attempt to get closer to him. as much as you know he is most likely to just say whatever he thinks would turn you on, wonwoo’s words expand inside your chest, building a heat that seems to suffocate you. even if you know it is bullshit, maybe not all of it, you like to be called his. ego strokes and all of that.

“wonu…” there is only a thin wooden door separating you two from the outside world, and at the moment you can’t care less if they hear you calling out his name. the guy really does wonders to your anxiety.

but he also likes to tease you.

he moves away from your breasts and you almost, almost, cry out in frustration. but wonwoo starts to trace kisses back to your neck, then to your jawline. and you feel like you’re going crazy with all that back and forth.

“i’m not gonna lie, i understand where you’re coming from,” he says. “i like to keep this as a secret too. it’s so hot.”

you almost forget how to inhale when he aligns his face with yours, placing a peck on your swollen lips. “yeah?” you ask, sounding as if you are in a daydream.

“yeah,” he agrees, breathless.

even if wonwoo tries his best to look as if he’s under total control, you know that he can’t keep that front for too long. he is clearly turned on, and the hardness pressing against your thigh is all of the proof that you need. he

“it’s so great to know that i have one of the sexiest nerdy girls on campus just for myself…” his hand trails up your thighs, adventuring in the lands beneath your skirt. “and no one knows.”

you bite your lower lip, anticipating the contact of his hand against your core. “what’s so tempting about it?” you ask.

he smiles. “ah… many things,”

your stare doesn’t vacillate. “i’d like an example,”

instead of answering you straight away, wonwoo decides to take his sweet time. he leans his head to the side and kisses you feverishly, growing satisfied with the the small whimpers and breaths that echoes in between your mouths. his hands are all over you: on your ass, your waist, down your thighs and up your hips, where his eyes can not see. you only have your skirt and your panties on, and it is so frustrating to still feel him fully dressed against you.

at last, he pulls away, placing his forehead against yours. as he speaks, you feel the tingle of his hands as they move towards the hem of your panties.

“i like seeing you walk around campus, knowing that you’re sore from the night before,” he speaks slowly, his voice in a low vibration against your mouth. “and i know you don’t tell any of your friends about it. about how i fucked you so good that you almost cried,”

you hum, closing your eyes. “what else?”

much to your dismay, his hands leave your underwear again, coming out to pull you closer. “when you send me those audios late at night,” he’s breathing out hard then, drowning in those lewd memories. “crying out my name… ” he stops and takes a big breath. “how am i supposed to say no to that? so there i go, out the door, telling your brother that i’m going to the library to study, instead of saying that i’m going to see his crazy hot sister and that i’m going to fuck her…” he hesitates. “and i just get this… adrenaline rush because he and my other friends don’t know it’s you.”

“and how do you know that i like any of it?” you tease.

wonwoo snickers at your question. both of you know that it is plastered all over your face, but he can keep up with that little teasing if you want to.

“two reasons,” he says. “first: you do the same to me, or don’t you?”

“i don’t recall,” you respond, forging innocence. okay, maybe you do like to play the naive part.

“oh no? what a terrible memory you have, i see why you do badly in exams when you don’t study with me. now, let me remind you,” he places a strand of your hair behind your ear, his words hitting your skin in heated, libidinous waves. wonwoo is so close that you can count his eyelashes if you want to, his torso squeezed so tight against yours that you wonder how you even manage to breathe in this position.

“it was just last week, babe. you called me to your flat after your roommate had left,” one of his hands goes back to play with the hem of your underwear, fingertips feeling like sparks against your skin.

“you got so horny with just the thought of having me, isn’t that right?” much to your surprise, your voice comes out a lot more steady than you have expected. “don’t flatter yourself, you don’t know that.”

wonwoo laughs, placing his warm, swollen lips against the skin of your neck. “i don’t,” he agrees, digits pressing against your clothed area.

you know he feels how wet your panties have become, so there’s no reason to keep that up. regardless, you kind of like it.

“but i do remember how much you wanted me that night. how many times did i fuck you that night? and you just had to keep quiet, because your neighbours could have been catching something. that was so cute,”

you sigh, your insides in knots over the tension you are sustaining. you hate him sometimes. hate how good he is. “i wasn’t counting.”

“i know,” he swiftly pulls the fabric of your underwear to the side.

“and this right here, this is the second reason. look at this,” his digits move, teasing you and you have to suppress a moan. “you’re always ready. i love that. you’re so good to me.”

god, you are so close to lose it.

“so quiet all of a sudden,” his nose delicately trails up your neck, his mouth meeting the angle of your jaw in open kisses. in an attempt to ground yourself, your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging through his t-shirt. you can still feel wonwoo’s fingers playing. you hate him. or not. you don’t know.

“i know i leave you speechless, sometimes, but i wan to hear you too,”

strong and steady, his other hand meets the curvature of your waist, pressing your body against his.

“nothing? y/n, you’re especially irresistible tonight,” his eyes are somewhat dazed, unfocused and hooded. he appears as if he’s two seconds away from fucking you raw against the wall, and you seriously wouldn’t mind at this point.

“you know why i called you here?” “because you want to fuck me,” you respond without missing a beat.

“i do, of course,” he places his forehead against yours, and you whimper.

“and the best part is that no one will even know it,” he continues. against your best judgement, your knees are getting weaker by the minute, the knot in your abdomen about to untie.

“just you and i. just the two of us will know how much you begged.”

“wonu,” you call out, hands tangling themselves in the roots of his silky hair. you whisper out his name again, your voice coming out in such a promiscuous tone.

god, wonwoo loves hearing the effect he has on you.

maybe jeon wonwoo does also have a golden dick.

above you, he smirks at the sensation of your mouth around his thumb, his other hand coming to place small caresses on your hair. after he removes his thumb from your mouth, you get back to your feet. it swiftly crosses your mind that your legs might give out eventually but, thankfully, they seem a bit more firm than what you have anticipated.

“better?” you ask.

“perfect.” wonwoo kisses you, sighing against your mouth. he pulls away gradually, his body still moving a bit slow.

“you always are.”

“aw, how nice of you,” you smile at his compliment, walking towards your pile of clothes. “always with the compliments.”

he hums in agreement, watching your naked body - your fingers holding that red bra he adores so much. “do we have any lesson programmed this week?”

an incredulous laugh ruptures your lips as you clasp your bra behind your back.

“we just had sex, and you’re already thinking about studying time?”

he shruggs. “i like to have a schedule,”

“i don’t actually remember, but we can game at mine wednesday,” your skirt moves up your legs, all the way up to your waistline. from the corner of your eyes, you can see wonwoo fumbling with his own jeans, which he now curses for being inside out.

“can you pass me some toilet paper?” you ask him, eager to clean the mess between your legs. there’s no way you are going to put your panties back on, even if the thought of going commando isn’t exactly the most welcoming either.

wonwoo is sitting on the toilet lid, putting his jeans back, and simply nods in agreement before doing so. “i’d like to know, though,” he insists.

you smile, taking a cheeky glance at him. “oh, so you are needy. since when you’re so needy?”

he groans. “i’m not needy, shut up.” the sound of his zipper closing echoes inside the cubicle.

“well, you can have this as a memory, if you’d like.”

you throw your red panties at him, watching as his face grows interested at the piece of cloth in his hands. wonwoo sighs, tugging his t-shirt back inside his pants.

“you’re killing me,” he complains. “good.” you smile, turning back at him. “how do i look? presentable?”

he examins you for an instant, taking in the details of your form. “it doesn’t look like you just got fucked, if that’s what you’re asking,”

“great!” you swirl around, “have a nice night, wonu. and don’t get too excited with the panties,”

wonwoo gets up and walks closer to you, your underwear safely guarded in his hands. you are positive he’s going to have fun with it later. “you’re going home already?” he asks.

“yeah, you did a good job at making me tired,” the clicking of the lock is a pleasant reminder that no one tried to open the door during your alone time.

wonwoo chuckles, leaning closer to you and he places a kiss on your forehead.

“good night, then. thanks for the panties,” you laugh. “you’re welcome.”

the building is glowing in the most diverse colours from the outside, and the sound of the music is like a distant pulse.

you watch, heart clenching inside of your chest, as wonwoo steps out of the front door with hoshi and seokmin - his head hanging low and a smile at the corner of his lips.

there is a volume in his front pocket, where you are sure he has tugged in your panties.

“i think that we should go home and sleep. but let’s keep this conversation on hold,” wonwoo cuts off the conversation. seokim, however, isn’t satisfied.

“you know that i’ll find out eventually,” he says, trying not to trip while walking.

“i always do. and hoshi knows it well.”

hoshi laughs, meeting wonwoo’s eyes. on the other side of the street, you and nabi take the opposite direction, having wonwoo to turn his head quickly at you.

“wonu-yah, i think you should give those lacy panties hanging off your pocket back to my sister tomorrow,”

“what-” “oh fuck!” a tomato red face wonwoo grabs them, while seokim trips and nearly cries out loud in the middle of the street.

#wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #wonwoo smut #seventeen fic #wonwoo fic #svt fic #wonwoo x y/n #seventeen smut #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines

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ecstarry · 1 day

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@rosekillermicrofic / freckles / 551 words / for @star4daisy i truly hope you like it babe, be gentle this is my first time writing them

“You two will not leave this room until you fill out that list. I am sick and tired of your bickering and fighting.”

Evan and Barty did not have time to question their professor as she loudly shut the door and left them alone in an office with a paper sitting at the center of the table. They looked at each other and both of them quickly tried to grab it. Evan was faster but Barty loved to play dirty, he launched himself across the table and bit the paper out of Evan’s fingers.

“Savage!” Evan snapped, yanking his hand back.

“Prude!” A smirk spread across Barty’s face.

“Just read the fucking instructions so we can get out of here, Crouch.” Two minutes alone with his classmate had been more than enough for Evan, he was desperate to finish their “bonding” session as quickly as possible.

His train of thought was interrupted by Barty’s laughter as he handed the crumbled piece of paper back.

“I’m actually excited to see what you come up with.”

Evan’s eyes widened as he read the instructions: name three things you like about the other person.

“This is stupid,” Evan argued, “You couldn’t even say one-”

“Your freckles,” Barty interrupted.

Evan felt a blush creep through his neck as the boy in front of him looked at him with something resembling sincerity in his eyes. Just as the redness reached his cheeks he witnessed Barty’s teasing smile growing.

“You’re fucking with me,” Evan insisted.

“You are actually nice to look at when you’re not trying to make my life miserable, Rosier,” Barty replied. With the tip of his shoe he pulled Evan’s chair closer to him. “Your turn.”

“Fine. Your ass.” Evan muttered as his heart beat grew louder with the proximity of someone he had felt anger and absolute desperation towards for as long as he could remember.

“I thought you were a gentleman.” Barty’s excitement only evoked more confusing emotions on Evan.

“Your turn, Crouch.”

“Fine, you’re kinda smart when you want to be.” Evan once again searched for the signs of sarcasm behind Barty’s dry tone, but there was nothing. For the first time there was no deceiving intention behind the boy’s gaze. Evan’s heart was racing at a concerning speed as his mind tried to make sense of why Barty’s flattery was getting him flustered.

“What is your endgame here, Barty?”

“I got bored of our little game we’ve been playing.” Barty leaned closer to Evan’s face and grabbed the collar of Evan’s polo shirt with his index finger. “I want to play a new one. Your turn, princess.”

The last words echoed in Evan’s mind. He couldn’t think. He wasn’t thinking. He threw himself towards Barty’s lips and pressed them together. They were soft. Barty Crouch had soft lips. Oh. Evan had kissed girls before, even a boy once, but nothing came close to this. Barty had one hand on Evan’s face and the other hopelessly holding onto Evan’s shirt. Soft moans echoed in the small room as they learned new ways their lips could communicate. He would continue to fight with Barty every day for the rest of the year if it meant he would end up here, under the undivided attention of this boy.

He liked this new game.

#rosekiller microfic #rosekiller #marauders #microfic #barty crouch jr.#evan rosier #barty x evan #evan x barty #barty crouch junior #slytherin skittles #barty crouch jr #barty crouch x evan rosier

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quinnylouhughesx43 · 3 days

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“I think I’m in love”

Summary: Trevor is having a hard time being away from you while he is with Team USA for the Men’s World Championship. Seeing his teammates and crossing paths with other teams with their significant others only intensifies all his feelings.

Warnings: use of pet names (babe, baby), angst, worry/anxiety, overthinking, fluff, I think that’s it

Word Count: 1.34K

It had only been 72 hours since Trevor had left the United States and he was truly miserable. He felt as if every where he looked when he was off the ice there was a couple. It was nearly impossible to not run into someone he knew from the league, just to be introduced to their significant other. “Seriously since when did everyone had their significant other with them.” Trevor asked Matt Boldy as he laced up skate. “Trevor, I think you’re over reacting. It just seems that way to you because your girl isn’t here.” Matt stands to walk off to the ice. Trevor shakes off his thoughts, or tries to shake off his thoughts.

Trevor wasn’t playing well, his focus was off. His heart really wasn’t in it at all. Cole and Luke had taken notice of how he was struggling and were off talking on the side in between drills.

“Do you think this has something to do with his girlfriend?” Luke asked Cole watching Trevor completely miss Brady for the passing drill. “I’m sure it does. I noticed him watching different couples when we were eating last night. I had to remind him it’s rude to stare. I also noticed Z hasn’t smiled like normal since we got here.” Luke couldn’t answer Cole as Trevor skated up and it was their turn to skate. Trevor’s head was lost in his thoughts when Coach dismissed practice. “Let’s go Z! We’re done” Luke yelled out.

After changing and heading back to the hotel the three boys were piled up in Trevor’s room. “Alright man talk. What’s going on with you? You look like you lost your long time pet or something.” Cole said flopping on his back next to Trevor. “I just miss her a lot. She couldn’t or wouldn’t come for some reason. And I’m worried we will grow apart. And, and” Trevor started to stutter over his words. Feeling a knot in this throat forming. Tears forming in his eyes. The pain in his chest that he wrote off as acid reflux earlier started hurting a bit more when his heart raced harder. “And what?” Luke pushed.

“God. I think I’m in love with her and I didn’t tell her. She doesn’t know.”

“What do you mean she doesn’t know?” Cole and Luke ask at the same time. The two boys share a look with each other then look back at Trevor. Trevor shrugs as if it should be the most obvious answer. “We haven’t told each other yet. She’s different you guys. I want to take care of her and provide for her. I look at her and I think about a future. A future where I don’t live in an apartment with in walking distance from the arena I practice and play in. It’s a future where I live in a house big enough for however many children she wants. With a yard so those kids can play outside instead of always being stuck inside. I don’t think about when I can get her naked in my bed. Actually she’s never been naked in my bed. I’ve never seen her naked. But for fuck sake I am in love with her.”

Trevor ran his hands through his hair and exhaled.

“I have never been this serious about anyone. I will go to hell and back for her. I think I am already in hell being this far away from her but that’s besides the point.” The last part earned a laugh out Cole and Luke. The two boys completely baffled by Trevor’s admission about his feelings for his girlfriend. He has always been an open book about most things but never about his feelings.

“Trev, I think it’s time to be honest with her. You need to let her know how important she is to you before she feels neglected.” Cole says giving Trevor a firm grip on his shoulder. “It’s late, we’re going to head out and get rest for tomorrow. Think about telling her and how you want to tell her before you just call her and yap it out there. If she’s endgame, plan it out.” Cole gives Trevor a quick hug before heading out of the room. Trevor feels better letting it all out but he can’t help but mope in loneliness, wondering what you’re doing back home.

While listening to Trevor, Cole was working magic. He had already purchased you a ticket through the US Hockey foundation for a flight. Explaining how down Trevor has been in just the last 72 hours and that he believed you could potentially be the cure all. You were shocked. Confused at best. You kept asking Cole if Trevor had put him up to it. Cole kept assuring you that Trevor has no idea that you have a flight out in the next couple of hours. He asked you, more like begged you, to not say anything to him either. By the time Cole got you your ticket and you had woken up you had 5 hours to pack and get to the airport to be on time for security.

As you were getting ready to turn your phone off Trevor’s face illuminates the screen. He was calling. You quickly decline and shut the phone off. ‘Better safe than sorry’ you tell yourself as your boarding the plane.

When you didn’t answer and then the next calls for the next 14-15 hours. Trevor’s mind was reeling the worry he felt set in deep making him sick, he needed a trash can multiple times. He couldn’t focus anything a while the team was at practice. Trevor ended up leaving practice early from being so sick and his inability to focus on anything. He isn’t one to really leave early, usually he would ride the bench until the end of practice but he couldn’t make himself do it. His anxiety over your safety was much too high. The panic was really starting to set in now that he was alone. Trevor had started thinking of all the possibilities of what could have happened.

1) You had starting ghosting him, he was gone and you realized you didn’t want him.

2) You were in the hospital for some reason or another.

3) Your ex-boyfriend came back around.

He was beside himself with all the thoughts running through his mind. Trevor laid curled up in a ball. Physically sick, a few tears shed, worrying over your well-being when there was a knock on his door.

“Guys I’m really not in a place for—“

“Baby?” Trevor’s voice cracked just as it did when he was going through puberty.

His knees buckled and he all but collapsed down on to his knees wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “Babygirl. I love you so fucking much. I don’t know how you’re here but I’m glad that you are. I was… I was so worried something happened to you or you were leaving me when you didn’t answer your phone. I just. Fuck. I love you. I’m sorry I never said it before now.” Trevor still on his knees down in front of you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“T. You..you love me?” You choked out wearing a huge smile on your face. He looks up at you from where he is at on the floor. “Yes baby. Today, tomorrow. Next week, the rest of your life if you’ll let me.” His eyes shining from new tears threatening the fall as your tears weren’t stopping. “T stand up so I can kiss you silly boy.” He quickly followed what you said. Grabbing his cheeks softly and pulling his face to your’s until his lips are just close enough to touch when you speak. “Trevor Zegras, I love you more than you understand.” He groaned in response pulling you into his room. Before the outside world could be forgotten Cole had to run and yell “you’re welcome Zegras” from the room door until he was acknowledged. All Trevor wants to do is lay in bed holding his precious girl, and tell her how incredibly grateful he is that she is there in Ostrava. He can’t wait to have his chance to show her off to everyone tomorrow.

authors note: hi I’ve been sitting on this for a while. I didn’t have a chance to finish the ending for a while and I didn’t go back and read over the actual story part so if it’s bad I’m sorry don’t hate me don’t judge me it’s been like a month

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sir-adamus · 3 days

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i've got the blu ray for volume 1 playing and i'm watching the behind the scenes video and Monty explicitly spells out how important collaboration with other creatives was in building RWBY, saying how he wanted to work with Kerry and Miles on it in creating the world and how he mostly gave them broad strokes. and it's mentioned how they all put the show bible together - i'm gonna put the whole transcript for the video under the cut (which i'm having to do myself because no one has uploaded this video anywhere as far as i can tell and there's no fucking subtitles)

Monty Oum [Creator and Director]: It’s the stories I’ve always wanted to tell versus the idea I came up with about, a little over a year ago. And we were talking about doing another show, and I just kind of half-asleep came up with the idea of a color rule for a bunch of characters. The red, white, black and yellow color scheme was something that was very prominent even in my previous work, so I started matching names up, matching ideas up. Also thinking about like, some of the ideas I’d stored up over the years. At some point or another the word ‘RWBY’ came to me.

Monty: Starting the show out originally, I designed the original character, Ruby, as well as going into the other characters. So once I had the first trailer done, and thinking about the rest of the characters for the show, I started bringing in other artists who I had watched for years. People I’d always said “someday I’ll work with them, someday I’ll have them design for me.” And when I was certain about having certain characters, I first contacted an artist I admired and found over DeviantArt. Her name was Ein Lee, she’s actually from Taiwan, and I found her art probably well over five years ago, and just loved her art style, and therefore wanted to incorporate it into my characters. So, I would do rough designs for team RWBY as well as designs for team JNPR, and she would flesh that out to be even further. To the point where eventually I didn’t need to design characters anymore, she started designing a bunch of the rest of the characters down the line.

Monty: The second person I brought on to RWBY was Kerry, because we had just been having conversations about the kind of show we could make. I’d been working with Miles on Season 10. He was writing scenes while I was making scenes, and so the three of us would have a lot of meetings and collaborate on the show to the point where I just started coming up with the broad strokes eventually and they had pretty much written the bulk of the show. Collaboration’s a big deal here, and I tried to include as many people as I can.

Kerry Shawcross [Co-writer]: Right after RvB ended, we wanted to just go straight into RWBY, but that was like right when we were going into commercial season. So we would work our normal hours here. Like 10 to 7-ish, then we would go back to one of our apartments and just start writing.

Miles Luna [Co-writer]: Monty really was enthusiastic about having these characters that may appear really one-dimensional for like the first few scenes that you see them, but the longer you get to know them, you realise “Oh, Yang isn’t just a dumb blonde party girl. She’s a very caring and nurturing girl, that has had to essentially be there for Ruby when she was young.”

Kathleen Zuelch [Producer]: When Monty and Miles and Kerry came to me, and really took me through the story. I started becoming a huge believer, because I’m a big fan of old school, traditional fairy tales, I love the Brothers Grimm, I love all the Snow White, and I love Little Red Riding Hood. I grew up with all of those stories, and the way that they were very clever in creating this whole world that’s kind of making homage to all of these amazing stories really inspired me to get more on board with what they wanted to do with this whole anime show.

Taylor McNee (née Pelto) [Art Director]: The world of RWBY, it looks very familiar. We wanted a blend of very classic looking architecture and clothing and cars, but we’re also mixing in this really kind of futuristic feel, like these little touches of some really futuristic stuff like holograms and things that you wouldn’t find in a classic [inaudible]. And that’s how we’re making this world unique. Our assets have to go through this pipeline of concept, modelling, texturing, and then finally being able to be put into the 3D program. So we start out with the concept and we usually bring that image into Maya, which is the main 3D software that we use. We have to make a 3D model that looks exactly like the concept that we were given, and it’s quite a process. Basically, we’re pushing polys and extruding stuff until we make the perfect shape, then afterwards we have to UV unwrap it, and then lay everything out on a texture sheet and then paint it, and that will put the image on the model. After that we’re basically done with the model and texture, and then we have to give it to the animators. So then we will set it up in Poser so the animators can grab it and use it for their characters.

Gray Haddock [Lead Editor]: There’s a lot of people working on this show, and there’s a lot of different elements in the pipeline. Editorial kinda serves as a hub between all the different departments, so we help all the communication and coordination between all the different pieces of the show, depending on what part of development that they’re in. Editorial’s getting involved way early in the process, we work alongside the director and the writers and the storyboard artists, and we use the scripts to help develop the storyboards and the camera angles for all those boards. So editorial is responsible for building up the moments of any given scene in terms of the timing and what you wanna look at, at any given moment. So we take the script and we help develop the camera angles and how long you wanna linger in a particular camera angle, look at one character or another or the scene as a whole, and the rhythm of the scene in terms of how long is it gonna take to spend on a particular line or when you want the music to come in, things like that. So we build up a set of animatics with the storyboards, and the first pass of all the audio. This is what then is handed off to the animators, so they can know exactly what is in what shot and how long do they have to animate it in a given shot. And once they’re done animating and their shot’s been approved, then their shot goes to the render farm, we get the rendered shot back and we drop it into the timeline for our episode and finesse the cut a little bit if we have to. But for the most part, we’ve done our job right and everything should pretty much be locked in for the most part by the time we’re getting animation.

Kerry: What’s kinda interesting as we’re creating the characters is, we kinda knew what kind of character they’d be. We knew Ruby would act a certain way, we knew Weiss would act a certain way, but we didn’t really know much about them. So we would get to the point where we’d be figuring out plotlines or figuring out dialogue and we’d be like “What would Weiss say here? What would Nora say here?” And then it turned into “Oh well now we know.”

Miles: Obviously we put a lot of thought into Ruby, Weiss, Blake and Yang before we started writing the dialogue. I remember sitting upstairs and we made a show bible, and we’re starting- we talked about likes, dislikes, personality traits. One of the first things I remember making was “Weiss drinks coffee. Blake drinks tea.”

Kerry: It’s important. It sounds not important at all, but it’s very important. It says so much about them

Miles: But it’s so important. So much about them, also it says nothing about them. It was just like- that’s just what it is.

Monty: I want the show to have resonance with people who are growing up. Cos everyone’s story is the story of kind of becoming who they are. Especially these days when the path of becoming who you are tends to be marginalised with reality. Having done what I’ve done, where I’ve essentially dropped out of high school, started learning this stuff on my own, and therefore land in a position where I get to take the things I was dreaming about when I was growing up and make it real. I tend to get a lot of response from people who are also not sure what they’re meant to become, a lot of them also have the same bright imaginations and with the way the world is, the hardships of what it means to grow up tends to marginalise who you are, and I would hate that to happen to anyone because the future is in creativity and that’s not something you can just manufacture. I actually would like this show to grow up with the people, so unlike most shows where they tend to be ageless or age very slowly, I’d like our fifteen-year-old fans watching fifteen-year-old Ruby, when they’re twenty-five, to be watching twenty-five-year-old Ruby, and to actually have some resonance with the character. Probably one of my favourite types of feedback is to say “I know this person” or “this person is just like me,” and that’s probably one of the best things about coming up with these characters.

#RWBY

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daisiescomelate · 2 days

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A rose for a rose

Prompt: jjk characters buy you flowers 🌹

Characters: shoko, toji, gojo, nanami

masterlist

Shoko - 'The one that loves too much'

Shoko held her cigarette to her lips and looked sideways at the man sitting on a chair on the street with buckets filled with fresh flowers arranged in bouquets. He had a small variety of flowers, and the bouquets were simple but pretty.

She left the school to get to a nearby pharmacy to restock on bandages and ointment for the infirmary. She walked without a rush. It was a nice sunny day, and she wondered if she should pick up a snack for lunch at the convenience store she knew was right ahead on the next block.

The man sat in silence immerse on his own thoughts. He remained invisible to the crowd that didn't spared him a glance. The handwritten signs on cardboard boxes read the prices. "Big bouquet", "Small bouquet", "Small rose bouquet", "Single rose".

Shoko put out her cigarette and approached the nearest set of flowers. White, yellow, pink, red. She didn't actually know how to call the flowers by name. She bent her knees to her chest to give them a closer look, and reached out with a single finger to caress one of the petals.

"Flowers are a nice way to say 'thank you'." A soft voice said. Shoko lifted her eyes to see the man on the chair who pointed at one of the small bouquets. "Since sometimes it's a hard thing to say with words."

Shoko looked at the set of small bouquets on the bucket. She asked herself if it would be alright to take one with her. She considered it carefully, and then reconsidered to consider it some more.

It never escaped her how odd was the amount of time she had to ponder around this type of thing. It shouldn't be so hard to buy a gift for your partner. But there was this hesitation, faint but ever present around her heart, the fear of exposing herself as the type of person that loved too much. The fear of finding out to be the one that loved more.

She picked a set of flowers from the bucket. The plastic crinkled under the light weight of her fingers. Three light pink roses with small white flowers around them. How nice it would be to not be scared to buy them.

You would love them.

You would kiss her thank you and smile at her with your whole heart. 'I love you', you would whisper, the way you did every morning and every night.

Sometimes Shoko wondered why it was so hard for her to trust and let go, guessed she was too scarred.

Maybe not just yet.

She placed the flowers back into the bucket and stood up, putting her hands back into the pockets of her white coat.

"You don't look like you're hesitating because of the price", the man said.

Shoko debated with herself if she should make something up to avoid a salesman speech. She started to feel as if she was in the way of the walking crowd.

"They are quite cheap, actually. You should raise your prices." She decided to answer.

"Saying 'thank you' sometimes makes us feel too vulnerable, doesn't it?"

The man had an eccentric way to do sales.

Yet...

Shoko looked back at the bouquet of flowers, picking at her nails inside the pockets of her coat. Just do it. It was normal to get gifts for your partner. You had done it multiple times for her.

If a bunch of flowers felt like too much... Did she really love you?

Her eyes flickered between the colors.

If a bunch of flowers was too much–

Shoko bent down and picked one of the single roses wrapped around clear plastic paper decorated with prints of white hearts and stars.

Small steps.

She reached for her pocket and took out a bill from her wallet.

"Keep the change." She said to the man.

"Have a good day, lady." He accepted the money.

Shoko carried the rose carefully in one hand and decided she would stop at the convenience store after all before getting back to the school.

Toji - 'Poor man with rich solutions'

Toji walked back home in the afternoon after work.

The road he usually took was cut due to a festival on the streets that would take place that night and for the following week, therefore he had to take a detour and move to one of the busy streets he usually avoided.

The crowd of busy office men and women in their tidy suits moved forward ready to get back to rest for the day.

His groceries hung on the tip of his fingers. His mind was elsewhere, pondering between his next gig and what he should make for dinner.

You were supposed to come by tonight. He went out for some ingredients for dessert, since he wanted tonight to be a little more fancy. He did have a rough moment at the store when he realized he didn't know about your ice cream preference, but everyone liked chocolate flavor, right?

That was a thing he should ask about tonight.

Lost in his thoughts, he caught himself on time before clashing with someone that came from the side at a hurried pace.

The man had come out from one of the stores that lined one against the other on the street. He carried a phone in one hand, and his wallet, a bouquet, a bag and a jacket in the other. He held everything with a deadly grip while trying to put the backpack's straps on his shoulders without dropping everything else. The bouquet flapped around and got caught under the jacket for a moment. A rose petal fell on the sidewalk.

"I'm on my way, baby. I stopped for a little surprise for you." The man said on the phone, "You'll see, you'll see..."

He had a dumb smile on his face and his eyes shined bright. He was so stupified by the voice on the other side of the phone he still didn't realize Toji was right behind him and he was close to hit him in his stupid little dance.

Toji raised an eyebrow at the anxious little man.

"I'm going to the train station right now, I'll be there in twenty minutes. Do you want me to pick something up from the store?"

He finally got to put his backpack on properly, and get his wallet in his pocket. He hung the jacket on one of the straps of his bag, and he stared at the yellow bouquet with a tender expression.

The person on the other side of the phone must have said something funny because next he was turning around while giggling like an idiot.

The man walked away jumping on his toes, blind to the pedestrians he barely avoided in his trance. His laugh lingered as he lost himself in the crowd.

Toji mumbled some not nice words under his breath and looked to the side to where the man had come from. The flower shop was a little hole in the wall. The front of the shop was almost completely glass so you could see the flower arrangements lined up for display.

Toji thought of how stupidly in love that person looked while looking at the bouquet he bought.

He wondered if you would like to receive some too.

He stepped closer to the window of the shop. He looked at the shades of pink, orange, blue, white and red. A bucket of red roses was set on the middle row to the left. The price of half a dozen roses was...

Insane.

Toji scolded at the amount. It was ridiculous. What do they water these flowers with that got them to be this expensive? He pressed his jaw tight, doing some quick math on his brain. No. There was not enough on his wallet right now, and the money he had left on the bank was everything he had to work with until next month.

Whatever. You never mentioned flowers anyway.

He turned away from the flower shop and resumed his walk home.

A bitter feeling followed close behind him with every step as he left the busy streets and began walking into a residential area.

Toji thought of the men and his stupid smile again, and the feeling of frustration grew on his chest.

He sighed, thinking there was no reason to make such a big deal out of a simple idea that had flashed through his mind and you didn't even know about.

Still, there was a lingering feeling of having disappointed you-

Until a sudden idea struck.

Toji stopped on his feet one more time and looked at a house to his left. It was an old house like all the others in this particular neighborhood. Around this area the streets were quiet, and the rent was cheap. It was the kind of neighborhood that had many elderly people hanging around.

The type of people that had a lot of free time and enjoyed gardening.

The particular house he had spotted had a flower pot hanging by the window that faced the street.

Toji listened attentively and looked straight into the window for any sight of life. Then, he walked slowly to the pot. He left his grocery bags on the floor and drew a knife from his waist.

A few minutes and a few bad cuts by thorns later, Toji was walking down the sidewalk with his handmade bouquet.

If you think about it, handmade gifts are always more meaningful than something anyone could buy in a store.

The following morning a grandma cursed at the bandals that had massacred her roses and swore to one day get her revenge.

Gojo - 'Black Card in love'

Satoru was on his lazy hour after lunch scrolling on his phone. A new picture of you crossed his feed and he instantly liked it and opened it to read the comments. Friends, family and some random weirdos complimented your sweet smile hiding behind a wildflower you were holding on one hand.

Taking a break with friends at the park, the caption read. He smiled. He wanted to ditch work and teletransport next to you right then. He sighed dramatically.

"My beloved is out there being monopolized by a bunch of randos and I'm here rotting." He complained to no one in particular, or maybe to the entire Universe.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, to then refocus his attention at the comment section of your post.

so cuteeeee

youre eyes are so pretty

Today is a sunny day lets enjoy it!

so pretty.. the flower too...

Satoru frowned at the screen. Vultures. And then he typed a comment of his own.

My partner is so beautiful!!

And filled it with an exuberant amount of red hearts so the comment would stand out to anyone who entered to leave their own.

Satoru knew he had nothing to be afraid of, there was nothing this people had that could match with him. Money, power and a good name. Gojo Satoru was one hell of a catch. He was exactly what everyone looked for in a partner. Exactly what you deserved. That was why those comments were so preposterous to him.

He tapped on your picture and looked at your profile, checking if there was any other photo he hadn't seen yet that you upload recently, but he was proud to say he was up to date.

He returned to his feed and the torment of the infinite scrolling, pausing every once in a while on some pictures not because he was interested but out of boredom, when a particular picture caught his attention.

It was the picture of one of your friends holding a big bouquet of roses that covered most of the frame with a wide smile on their face. The caption read, Happy birthday to me! Thank you to my one and only for this beautiful gift.

You had liked the picture and your comment was between the first few of the bunch.

happy birthday!! those flowers are so beautiful i wish someone did that for me some day too!!

Satoru took his feet off the table in front of him. He sat up, leaned his body forward and prompted his elbows over his knees, tapping his cheek with his finger.

You never said that you liked flowers? Silly you.

He closed social media and opened his browser. It took him a few minutes to find a place that spoke quality, but after that he was quick to get on the phone.

"La Boutique Florale, my name is Amy. How might I help you?"

"Amy! Hello~. I would like to order five hundred roses, please."

"Absolutely, sir. Is it for an event?"

"Just a bouquet." He said while playing with his nails.

"A bouquet, sir?"

"Yes. But add some of those tiny white flowers to make it look pretty..." He smiled already thinking of the picture you would post of it. He needed to be on them.

"The price of a five hundred bouquet of flowers would be–"

"Don't worry about that. I'll pay with credit." Any price she could name was not a struggle for him.

"Good, no problem. Would you like to add a note, sir?"

"A note? Mmm... write something like 'for my pretty bumblebee with love from your one and only' on a nice handwriting. Add a little heart to it. I'll tell you the address..."

As easy as that.

When everything was set and done he hung up the phone and stretched on his chair with a satisfied smile.

Gojo Satoru was one hell of a catch. He just liked to remind you of it once in a while, so you wouldn't be tempted by something less than you deserved.

Nanami - 'The ways of a gentleman'

Nanami parked his car in front of a tiny flower shop in the outskirts of the city on his way to school. It was early in the morning. The sunlight was still hushing away the cold of the night. It tickled his skin when he opened the car's door and as he walked the short distance to the shop.

A bell dinged as he opened the glass door. A nice lady offered him a ‘good morning’ and asked if he was looking for anything in particular.

Nanami brushed his gaze around the flowers on display. A line of flower arrangements on a table at the center of the room caught his eye. He walked to the table and pondered on the colors. He already had something in mind before coming in. One of the bouquets in particular seemed to be what he was looking for.

"That's a beautiful choice, is it meant for a special occasion?" The lady asked when he placed the roses over the counter.

"It's our anniversary today." He said, and took out his wallet to pay.

"Well, I'm sure your partner would love it. Small details are what makes a long lasting relationship."

Nanami slightly smiled for himself, agreeing with the lady but having nothing else to add.

The lady smiled too and reached under the counter for a piece of paper and a pen. She bent over to place the pen over the card. Nanami could guess what she was going to ask before she had the chance to do so, so he said instead,

"Do you mind if I write it?"

"Of course not, here you go.” She slided the pen to place it in front of him and accepted his card. The lady passed the payment while he scribbled a short message. It was straightforward, but in no way not less meaningful because of it, coming from Nanami.

For another year together. With love, Kento.

"Here you go..." Called the lady as she left his card over the counter.

Nanami thanked her and placed the card and his wallet back in his back pocket. He left the shop followed by a 'have a good day', and got to his car. He opened the driver's door and carefully placed the roses over the passenger seat.

As he started the engine, he thought if there was still time to pick up another treat for you or if he risked getting late for work. The thought only troubled him because he wanted to see you before you started your class with the first years.

He might as well rush, because truth be told, he was kind of excited to see you to give you your gift and a sweet 'i love you' kiss.

#fanfic #fanfiction #jjk #x reader #shoko x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #shoko ieiri #gojo satoru #nanami kento #toji fushiguro #🧁-- drabbles #shoko ieri x reader #gojo satoru x reader #nanami kento x reader #toji fushigro x reader

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copperbadge · 2 days

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Sam, I must know what sort of things Gerald blogs about on his Tumblr. How old or active is his account? Is his identity a secret?

It's actually a reference to an older post where @dignitywhatdignity pointed out there was no way Ger wasn't on Tumblr. :D Reproduced my response below -- first, Photogram:

I can picture Jerry’s Photogram in my head very clearly because I’ve had to research the children of rich people and their fucking obnoxious instas, and Jerry’s is probably equal parts expensive cars, club glam, and scenic vistas, but mainly because that’s like…what you do. It’s just kind of the done thing, like wearing a shirt when you leave the house.

Update: Gerald's photogram has shifted radically -- he still treats it as a Thing You Do but especially now that he's a dad it's a lot more Parenting Lifestyle stuff. Because a few of my friends have had babies in the last two years and I had to research the babies my fictional characters were having, the algo now thinks I have baby fever, so I get a lot of Parent Influencer content, and I bet Gerald does a lot of sly fun-poking at that stuff. Like, posting a photo of a bottle warmer and a bib-washing tabletop machine with commentary like "You cannot buy any of this in the shop I don't have, but if you're going to buy one stupid thing as a parent, buy the bib washer. Not a single shirt you own will be unstained but the bibs will be immaculate."

They don't post pictures of Serafina, though -- there are a couple of official portraits for PR reasons but day-to-day that shit is locked to friends and family only. (There are special websites for this, I have friends who use them, it's pretty neat.) The only time random candids of her are out there are usually when someone snaps Michaelis toting her around Fons-Askaz with her cousins -- the "King Emeritus and Royal Ducklings" are becoming a very familiar sight. At least once a week Michaelis takes Noah and Joan out for an afternoon in town with Sera in a snugli and the twins in a stroller. Don't ask him about his stepson and grandkids unless you really want to hear about them.

Meanwhile he also definitely has a secret super-weird tumblr and nobody can figure out if he’s roleplaying or shitposting or what when he posts stuff like “The family groupchat is all well and good until it starts heavily impacting local politics.” Are those horses really his or is he just visiting a barn? Is that…a photo of a plate full of appetizers at “My cousin’s latest house party” with Angela Merkel in the background? He certainly has some strong feelings about Princess Diana and equally strong feelings about Tsar Nicholas. Why is he one of only three people the official Eddie Rambler tumblr follows?

Gerald's tumblr has also slowed down since the diagnosis and becoming a dad, but the content is still random as hell and more authentically wild than his photogram. Again, no photos of Serafina, but it's very evident that whoever is running that particular tumblr has had a kid, or is pretending they have. He gets asks accusing him of faking shit for clout and every time he does, his response is simply to write the ask on a sheet of paper in longhand and photograph it in front of a famous European landmark and/or political figure.

Alanna tolerates this because it does keep him out of mischief and sometimes he takes Serafina with him to whatever landmark he's visiting, and she gets to have a quiet apartment to herself for a while.

(”Eddie Rambler’s on tumblr?” someone asks, and someone else replies “Name me one other TV chef brave AND stupid enough to be on tumblr” and then you realize it is in fact the official Eddie Rambler tumblr saying that.)

Eddie doesn't post to his official Tumblr anymore because he rarely has time and doesn't need to do the self-promotion, but Katie in Communications checks his inbox once a week and brings him the most entertaining asks to respond to. He's currently hovering somewhere around the level of Neil Gaiman in terms of "Famous people who are inexplicably on Tumblr."

Ultimately there develops a running joke that Jerry’s tumblr is run by either a) an upper-class vampire (rude) or b) the elected king of a micronation on the Mediterranean coast with a name nobody can spell (super rude!)

One time Gerald accidentally pocket-posted a blurry selfie to his Tumblr but it was so poorly focused and clearly accidental that a bunch of people got mad at him for violating the privacy of the Duke of Shivadlakia. He had to pretend to have a week-long beef with himself to save face. He eventually got Noah to take a selfie with him, blanked out Noah's face, and then claimed the Duke had forgiven him and here was a selfie with him as proof.

It's a hard old life, being Duke of Shivadlakia, but someone's got to do it.

#shivadhverse

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suzukiblu · 12 hours

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Ko-fi thank-you sentences for qwertynerd97; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He wonders if Lynn’s going to want any of his powers. It’d probably be for the best, since he’s gonna be living in Fawcett and Kryptonians are weak to magic, and if Lynn gets mind-controlled or whatever he can just shut them off for him until he gets better, so that should be fine? But Billy doesn’t actually know how Kryptonian powers feel, obviously, so maybe his powers would feel too weird for Lynn to use. Like . . . physically, he means.

He’s really not sure how that works, yeah. He doesn’t have powers unless he’s transformed, really, so he doesn’t really know how different it might feel. Though super-strength is definitely really different from normal strength, either way, so . . . yeah, he really doesn’t know, honestly.

Hm.

He should figure that out, yeah. Or help Lynn figure it out for himself, at least. He can do that, he figures. Like, that seems like a normal part of helping him with his powers. And if Lynn doesn’t like having his powers, he can always just take them back anyway.

Though he really would feel better if Lynn kept them just in case, he thinks, whether he uses them regularly or not. Like–definitely he would, actually.

Billy throws out all the takeout boxes and saves the leftover napkins and plastic utensils that they didn’t use. He guesses the diner thought there were more than just three of them eating, which kinda makes sense with how much they ordered, and anyway Tawky has trouble using utensils when he’s stuffed, even plastic ones. It doesn’t hurt to have some extras around either, Billy figures, just for days when washing dishes is too much of a pain.

Oh. They actually have dishes, don’t they.

. . . weird.

Billy frowns down into the silverware drawer he just found to leave the extra plastic utensils in, feeling–off, for a moment–and then bites the inside of his cheek. It’s nice silverware. Like, solid and heavy-looking, not cheap.

He really hopes Batman got it on clearance or from the thrift store, or that somebody just donated it.

There’s so much stuff here. He wasn’t really–expecting this much stuff.

Well. Maybe Superman asked for it, he thinks. He’s probably worried about Lynn settling in and getting everything he needs, right? Especially since he can’t take care of him himself? Billy doesn’t actually know why Superman can’t take care of Lynn himself–he guesses it’s probably a secret identity issue, considering, or maybe he’s got a long-term mission coming up or something–but he definitely doesn’t want to let him down. Especially not after Superman specifically asked him to take care of Lynn. Just–Superman thinks he can be a good dad and is trusting him to, so . . .

Oh, actually, he should remember to ask Lynn if he can tell Superman his name next time he sees him, or if he wants to tell him himself, or just isn’t ready to tell him at all yet. Billy’s still off-duty this week while Lynn gets settled, so it’s not like it’s gonna come up immediately, but better to know either way in advance, he figures. Like, probably better?

The silverware’s different from his parents’ silverware. They had two sets, all mixed-and-matched. They laughed about it sometimes. Billy thinks maybe there was a story behind it, but . . . but they never told him, so . . . so he doesn’t actually know. Maybe it was funny. Or romantic. Or . . . something.

He doesn’t know.

He closes the silverware drawer.

#qwertynerd97 #wip: billy adopts conner and it actually goes pretty good!

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lilycolbertsstuff · 2 days

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Ok let’s talk all things Bridgerton.

First things first, we’ve all binged it the day that it came out, right?

Second, Nicola Coughlan the woman that you are.

Now let’s move on to the serious stuff.

I have to say that so far I’m liking this season but there are some things that I really don’t understand, namely all the subplots. Some of them should’ve either been cut or they should’ve had less screen time. I understand for example the introduction of Francesca and John because of how their story plays out in the future but what about the Mondriches? Don’t get me wrong I like their characters and their chemistry but I really don’t get why they’re such a prominent part of this season, hopefully their presence will be justified in part 2 for it would be heartbreaking to see unnecessary hate towards them.

Another aspect I liked is Eloise and Cressida’s friendship. In the beginning I didn’t think it would be something genuine but turns out that El does actually come to care for Cressida, who is finally not just relegated to being the mean girl.

Kate and Anthony are a dream to watch on screen, their chemistry is out of this world and they most definitely deserve the long ass honeymoon for god knows how hard these two have worked for their families.

I found Francesca to be such an interesting character and her and John were cute but the side couple that I’m really curious about is Violet and lady Danbury’s brother.

The Featheringtons were a highlight of this season to me. They had no business being this funny. Every time a scene with them came on I was prepared to laugh.

Queen Charlotte and lady Danbury are such icons you can’t help but love them.

Last but not least, Benedict. My boy what have they done to you? It’s so painfully obvious that they didn’t know what to do with his character because give me a valid reason why his storyline this time around is him going to bed with a widow; I would’ve much rather liked to see him in those artists’ parties or whatever like he did in season one and maybe explore more of that aspect of his personality in preparation for his own season, which hopefully will be next.

Time to talk about the leads:

I wish we could’ve seen more of Colin’s identity crisis but I feel like whenever the script was lacking Luke did a great job compensating with his body language and facial expressions. Also can we all agree that he’s just so whipped for Pen after their first kiss?

As a fellow wallflower I really related to the scenes where Penelope felt frustrated with the ton and all the socialising. I can confirm that even when we get all dolled up and feel confident in our own skin for once it’s still so hard to put ourselves out there. We feel called by the wall and somehow we find it more fascinating to observe all the different dynamics going on around us rather than actively taking part in them, even if sometimes we want to.

The scenes where Pen threw herself on her bed and sighed? Yep, I felt that.

I honestly didn’t mind that Colin and Pen got together by the end of the first part of the season for we’ve been watching the build up to their relationship for three seasons now. These two have been friends for ages so it’s not like they had to go through all that getting to know each other phase. Furthermore, I’m pretty sure that part 2 will focus on the unfolding of the lady whistledown storyline and having Colin and Pen be together makes more sense because now he loves and wants to marry her leading to an even more crushing reveal.

The carriage scene?! I died and resurrected in the span of like 3 minutes, and that’s just their first intimate scene I don’t know what will happen to me with the ones to come.

These were my overall thoughts on Bridgerton season 3. I can’t wait till part 2 comes out but also I will be deep in exam season so it’ll be a wild ride, let’s hope everything turns out for the best.🐝🩵

#bridgerton #polin #bridgerton season 3 #kanthony #penelope featherington #colin x penelope #colin bridgerton #romancing mr. bridgerton #carriage scene #netflix #tv shows #tv series #nicola coughlan #luke newton #johnathan bailey #simone ashley #claudia jessie #luke thompson #hannah dodd

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redr0sewrites · 1 day

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Could you please do fluffy Lucifer head cannons! (I love your Hazbin hotel hcs💗)

🥀A/n: YESSSS OFC!! i love luciii hes so cute

🥀Cw: none, just fluff!!!

lucifer is a very touchy person in general, and when it comes to his partner, he just ADORES giving and receiving affection from you. he always wants to be touching you in one way or another, but he always makes sure to ask beforehand.

he rubs your thumb when you both hold hands!!!! he also seems like the type to gently swing his arm when you both are holding hands and walking side by side, he's just giddy about getting to spend time with you!!!

lucifer loves showing you off. he's definitely bringing you to every event that he attends, and is proudly stating that you're his partner at any given opportunity

MATCHING COUPLES ITEMS!!!! ive said it before and i'll say it again, lucifer is the type to ADORE matching couples outfits, jewelry, mugs, literally anything! u guys have SOOO much matching stuff simply because he adores it

loves sitting in your lap. there is no place in the world more comfortable for lucifer than in your arms, and he just loves being able to cuddle with you in your lap. he MELTS whenever you touch his hair, and is overall very touchy

if your taller than him, he ADORES hugs from behind!!! he loves when you rest your chin atop his head, and won't even mind some light teasing about his height.

loves tickles!!!! sometimes he'll wake you up with tickles or kisses across your face, just so he can hear your laughter

lucifer can't fall asleep without touching you in some way! if you aren't a very cuddly person while you sleep, that's ok, but he still asks to link pinkies while sleeping just so he knows you're there. if you are a fan of cuddles, prepare to be clung to!!

he would adore it if you got along with charlie, and definitely persists at trying to get you two to hangout. he loves the idea of the three of you being a family and doing family things together, and charlie is just happy to finally see him happy, so she's very grateful towards you

lucifer is a RAMBLER, he loves talking about his special interests and cares a lot if you listen to him and act interested too! you definitely learn a lot of duck facts from him, along with anything else that's interesting that he's picked up over the years

FLIRTY!!!!!!! he's sooooo cheesy, and definitely uses the cringiest pickup lines. sometimes he does it to be funny, and sometimes he does it to be serious. he also has a BUNCH of nicknames and petnames for you, and some are satire while others are more genuine

to name a few of the satire one, he'd probably say duckie, pookie, and prince/princess (ironically tho). unironically i think he'd call you dear or "my dearest", darling, and honey as well. he isn't afraid to call you pet names in public, he honestly refers to you more as "dear" than your actual name! i also think lucifer would make up nicknames based on your name specifically. you could have a 3 letter name and he'd still somehow shorten it. definitely gives you nicknames related to your name, say for example your name is rose, he's absolutely the type to call you "rosie posie" instead of just rose

writes you little notes throughout the day and sends them to you magically :) he also buys you practically anything you want, he is rich after all

overall he's very affectionate, and he could never pick a love language when it comes to giving. he just has so much love to give, and he makes sure you're spoiled with affection!!!!!!!!

ack sorry this is so short i promise im still trying 😭 school and family *cough* mom *cough* stuff has been lowkey kicking my ass but ive been SO motivated to write it's actually insane so im trying to power through my 100+ hazbin hotel requests even though ive lowkey moved on- i still enjoy the fandom, but i just need a break yk? ANYWAYS!!!! FEEL FREE TO SEND IN REQUESTS, ESPECIALLYYYYYY ARCANE, TDP, OR ACOTAR REQUESTS!!!!!

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cheri-2047 · 2 days

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Idk if it's a good request or nah, but can you do a imagine in which the reader got adopted by Lyney, Lynette and Freminett family? Not like adopted by the HoH and arle. The trio adopt us but keep us away from Fatui business. We are obviously young and just got isekai'ed to Teyvat. I hope it's not a weird request, I just really want some platonic time with the trio :')

DUDE THIS IS SUCH AN INTERWSTING REQ, ID LOVE TO WRITE THIS !!

I’m gonna make it so the ages are like, freminet is 16, lyney and Lynette are around 20 and they found you when you were like idk 6

This is so badly written in sorry it’s cause tumblr deleted my progress thrice and my lazy ass lost my motivation on this.

This went from a third person perspective to a first so MY BAD. I’m really sorry like genuinely 😞

Hearth siblings adopt you <3

Tags: none this is in a family situation

Characters: Lyney, Lynette, Freminet, mentions of Arlecchino

Lyney and Lynette were in a mission together, to gather some information from a well-known noble in Fontaine.

The pair had gotten tickets to go to a banquet as requested by father, to “extend connections” and to fulfill their task.

They were in their usual get up, with small extra details such as some pearls on Lynette’s hair and as for Lyney, he had temporarily glued on extra sequins on his hat.

The two introduced themselves, blending in with the crowd smoothly as they had the noble in sight.

“My if it isn’t the greatest magicians in Fontaine!”

The noble recognized them, after seeing them in the Steambird countless times.

“Ah, hello! Pleased to meet you! But ah sir, you must be quite wrong. For we are actually the greatest in all Teyvat!”

Lyney joked, extending his hand for the noble to shake.

“Lyney and Lynette, correct?”

The man said, shaking the boy’s hand. They both nod, as Lynette bowed her head.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

The three chat, as there was a sudden commotion from the food area.

“OUT!”

The Gardes yelled, pointing to the door. The crowd looked curiously, to see a small child running out of the building.

“Ah little dumb kids. Which noble would bring their child to a grand place like this?”

The noble chuckled. The twins (though they didn’t want to) laughed along with his remark.

The twins were smooth, they knew how to talk so they would get answers. They got all the information they needed and decided to linger around longer, to promote themselves as well.

“Ah well sir, we are going to take our leave for now. Thank you!”

The two introduced themselves to others.

“We’re Lyney and Lynette!”

They said, showing others small card tricks.

After a few hours they got all they needed and more, and left the venue. As the two walked out and made their way to the Hotel Bouffe D’ete, they heard small cries.

“….brother look.”

The cat-hybrid pointed towards a bush, walking towards it a little. They saw…a child, a child who looked barely an age over 5. Hugging their knees while shivering and crying.

“…hello..”

The cat hybrid held out her hand, only for the child to look even more terrified.

“We won’t hurt you…”

The hybrid kneeled down to the child’s height, as the young boy approached them and kneeled down as well. The child only looked more scared.

“Hey…your knee is bleeding…”

The young boy said, reaching for his pocket to grab a handkerchief.

“May I?”

The child didn’t speak.

“Ah..parles-vous francais?” (Do you speak French?)

The child shook their head. “Ah…”

“What’s your name little one?”

The boy said, suddenly reaching his hand out with the handkerchief.

“I’m just gonna wipe your wound okay?”

The child nodded, as if saying it was okay before telling the twins their name.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Lyney and this is my sister”

“Lynette. Where are your parents?”

The child shook their head. the hybrid understood.

“I see… are you from here?”

Lynette tried to not talk about parents, since it might have been a sensitive topic for you

“No…”

Her eyes widened in shock, but decided not to question it.

“Ah..I see..”

The boy finished wiping your knee. He could have sworn he had seen you somehwere.

“Can you walk?”

You nodded. Standing up. Suddenly, the magician regcognized you.

“…ah! You were the child who got chased out by the gardes!”

You froze. Were they going to get angry at you? Tell you to scramble off? Were the-

Your stomach grumbled.

“…you were looking for food Weren’t you?”

You nod.

“Well in that case..why don’t you come home with us?”

Lyney turned to his Sister in shock.

“Lynette- we can’t possibly just bring another child to the hearth. You’ve seen how the other kids reacted..”

“They have no home. Where else are they to go?”

“Anywhere but the hearth.”

They kept whispering to each other, not wanting you to hear anything.

Lyney didn’t mean to sound rude, he just wanted to keep you out of fatui matters. He wanted to keep you safe especially since it looked like you didn’t know anything.

“…”

“…fine”

“Alright Reader… we will take you to a new home okay?”

Lyney sighed. as he carried you up in his arms and started to walk with you.

“We’ll introduce you to our little brother once we get to the hea- at home.”

Lynette pulled some extra sweets out of hee bad, she fed you while her brother was carrying you. As all 3 of you walked, you fell asleep in his arms.

Lynette and lyney were trying to figure out how to take care of you. They didn’t want to tell father, since they didn’t want you to suddenly be forced to enter a life full of a murderer and a criminal.

After awhile, you suddenly woke up in a bed, with a short boy sitting on the edge of it.

“Ah..um…you’re awake…”

“Hello there…I’m freminet..”

The boy introduced himself, as he Pat your head.

“I’m their little brother.. and I’ll be taking care of you today since they’re in a missio- ah- since they’re busy”

You nodded

The three would keep you in a different place outside the hearth. They would do everything to ensure that nobody from the hearth knew you and father would never find out

You hang out with freminet mostly. He makes the clockwork machines a lot while he’s in your room.

The twins always check on you everyday, and entertain you with magic tricks.

Any attempt of calling them your father or mother, they would immediately shut it down and say “no no you don’t have to-“ and laugh afterwards

Whenever you get sick one of the twins would make an excuse to father to not go on a mission, and instead take care of you.

Freminet often gives you some toys, he gets slightly happy whenever he comes back to your home to see you playing with them.

As you grow up, the three teaches you more things (like for school) and they even let you watch some of their shows. On the condition that “you must act like you don’t know us personally. Got it?”

Honestly they would be really nice older siblings to you, they also feel pride in themselves that they “raised a kid normally”

They let you leave your room whenever you want, on the condition that you must say a fake name and call them whenever you go out (and when you’re back).

Sometimes on missions, they feel bad for leaving you out so if they go to another ball, they have an extra ticket for you. They often tell you they’re just “promoting the show” but you don’t mind it.

You get really suspicious and weirded out sometimes, but then freminet would just make an excuse like “since you’re not from Fontaine, people might look for you…”

I bet the three genuinely think they’re being so slick but in reality, arlecchino knows about this. I dont know how she found out, maybe the way all three of them have gotten more food than usual? But she knows about you. She knows your real name, your age and how you look like, but she pretends to not know a thing. She finds it amusing that her 3 kids are trying so hard to give you a normal life and she wants to see the outcome of this.

All 4 of you become really close. Lyneys always there if you need someone to cheer you up, lynette is always there if you want comfort or desserts, and Freminet is literally like your best friend.

They set your birthday in the day they found you. Whenever it’s your birthday, all three give you presents and gives you their favorite food.

On their birthdays, they visit you late (since the hearth also celebrates) but whenever they do, they have their favorite foods and you have a gift for them too that they always appreciate. (And they would always use)

Whenever you’re alone for long periods of time, they would apologize and make up for it by staying with you the entire day the next day.

I’m actually so sorry for the shitty writing like genuinely and this wasn’t proofread either 😔 but thank you so so much

#lyney #freminet #lynette #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #fluff #headcanons #lyney x reader #lynette x reader #freminet x reader #arlecchino #house of the hearth #lyney x you #freminet x you #lynette x you

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manicpixiefelix · 2 days

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 23.

Summary: A conversation between you and Oliver as you both try to distract yourselves from thinking about the day behind, and the night ahead.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

A/N: 2957 words. i split the henrys dinner into two parts because the dinner itself was very different tonally to the conversation with oliver that needed to be had i think. this part is sfw but the next part Will Definitely Not Be :) also im putting more gratuitous shakespeare mentions because i love characters pointing out their own narrative parallels. i feed off of the lovely comments y'all leave, so if you have any thoughts you'd like to share, i always love to hear them!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

No matter what you wore, these formal events made you feel like you were choking.

Oliver finds you in the shared bathroom a few hours before dinner began, already dressed and agitatedly fussing with your collar in the mirror. Spotting him in the reflection, your scowl doesn't clear, but you do start vocalising the thoughts that had been running through your head.

"Lady Daphne has three children, all under fifteen."

"What?" Oliver, still looking entirely casual in sharp contrast to you, leans against the sink, watching you with interest.

"Tonight; the woman next to you who isn't Ven, she has three children under fifteen, their names are -" squeezing your eyes closed tightly, willing yourself to remember, you swear with frustration as the children's names elude you. You'd managed to find and memorise Henry of Suffolk's children's names - Henry Jr and Charlotte - but you're again feeling like it's not enough. Your collar feels too tight.

Unbuttoning your top button for what must be the fifth time in the past half hour of your indecision, you groan with frustration.

"Are you okay?" Oliver asks carefully, to which you try and waive off his concern. Clearly, it doesn't work, considering he's making his way over to you to rest a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"I'm fine, it's fine," you tried again, though it still comes out with clear irritation. Closing your eyes again you try and calm yourself enough to focus, "I saw their names the other night in my notes, I know this," you hissed under your breath, "Lady Daphne and Lord Henry; he's Sir James' godson and his own sons are named..." you wrinkled your nose, braced against the counter, "they're fucking French names, I know this!"

"Are Lady Daphne and Lord Henry French?" Oliver asks.

"No, they're just pretentious," you bit out, though suddenly it came to you, "Regis, Gabriel, and Louis." A grin lights up your face at that; the tension leaves you for the moment in the wake of your small victory. You feel like you can breathe again. Oliver gives you a hesitant smile, at least glad to see you're feeling better for having finally remembered. Breathing a relief sigh, you turn to him properly, "how are you, Ollie?"

"Should I remember Regis, Gabriel, and Louis at dinner?" He asks with faint hesitancy. You shrugged.

"I'm sure it couldn't hurt," logically you knew your own anxious preparations were often too detailed for what the night would actually require, but if you had information that could help ease Oliver into this world to which he was unaccustomed, you'd offer whatever you could to make him feel prepared.

But when he asks if you want to stay with him while he gets himself ready for the evening, you still find yourself hesitating.

Farleigh had found you that afternoon as you'd been coming back in from your gardening; he looked more than a little irritated, but refused to explain his mood. There was something unusually guarded about him at the time, something almost bordering on reproachful in the way he looked at you.

As your heart sank with realisation, you tried to find a way to explain to him everything that had happened between you, Felix, and Oliver. The tricky part of it all would most certainly be reassuring him that you believed him entirely, while also figuring out a way to explain why you'd given Oliver another chance despite knowing he was lying to you and Felix. There was no way you'd be able to explain yourself in this moment, and Farleigh seemed to realise this too.

"If you have something to say to me," Farleigh told you tersely, glancing over his shoulder where you could both hear Felix chattering loudly to Oliver down another corridor, "if you can bare to tear yourself away from your darling, little Iago," he spits, and you sighed deeply, expression clearly showing your disappointment, which Farleigh paid no mind to, standing to his full height and fixing his cool gaze upon you, "you know where I'll be."

So now, here you were, after almost an hour trying and failing to distract yourself by skimming through Shakespeare's Othello since Farleigh's latest cruel nickname for Oliver had reminded you of it, you'd decided to bite the bullet and get yourself ready. Really you should head over to Farleigh's room and sort things out with him, talk everything through and smooth it all over, but Oliver looks so helpless at the mere thought of what tonight would require. You tell yourself you can always talk to Farleigh later.

The afternoon eases itself into early evening with far less tension than the middle of the day had brought with it. Simply being in Oliver's company does wonders for your nerves. Even if talk between you is limited, the silence is not uncomfortable; Oliver gets himself ready, and you continue to skim the play while splayed out on Oliver's bed, and the duvet that used to be yours, easing each other's anxieties in quiet parallel.

You're looking for a quote you half remember from when you'd studied the play back in high school, a line that would be all too fitting of an offer to Farleigh when you saw him next, picking up on his allusion while trying to assure him you weren't just blindly believing Oliver over him - there.

I am not merry; but I do beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.

You keep the text open on the bedspread before you as Oliver asks you questions about the unspoken scripts that you all must follow throughout the night. There's something like vindication that wells up within you when you realise how easy you find it to talk him through them.

"Do you always wear suits to these things?" Oliver asks carefully in the intimate moment in which you stand before him, doing up the cuffs of his dress shirt.

"The Henrys dinners? Yes," you nod, nimble fingers dancing against the fabric by his wrist. An amused smile makes it's way across your lips as you explain without even really thinking, "the first and last time I wore a cocktail dress to a Henrys dinner I made one of them, Henry Rochester I think, very uncomfortable," you smirked at the memory, and though Oliver's glad to see you're more smug rather than uncomfortable about the memory, he still doesn't quite seem to understand why.

"Because you're...?"

"Technically yes," you huffed a laugh, letting go of the first cuff to do the second, "because he now gets hard thinking about me in a dress and he doesn't know how to feel about it, and I don't want to deal with that." For a moment, the words simmer in the air between you both, and you finish up with the second cuff, stepping back with a pleased little smile. Oliver, however, still seems to be confused, and finally you acquiesce, giving him the final piece of the story;

"It was a very nice dress, Henry was just so bloody wasted he forgot I was the one wearing it when he couldn't see my face when he walked in on Fi and I in the wine cellar decided to stick around and watch with his dick in his hand," you shook your head dismissively at the memory, rolling your eyes but still grinning, "which isn't our fault, it's our wine cellar, he's the one getting drunk and going for a roam on someone else's estate."

It startles a laugh out of Oliver, the sound bright and sharp as his hand comes up reflexively to cover his mouth. Your expression scrunches up, pleased at the sound. In the few moments that follow, you straighten out Oliver's collar as he's giggling to himself, watching you from behind his hand with warmth and something almost adoring.

"I should show you some time," you wet your lips, crossing your arms as you gave him a leering look over, your intentions obvious. Oliver flushes a little, smiling under your gaze.

"The dress?"

"The wine cellar," you corrected, making Oliver laugh once more.

"You sure you're not going to get me drunk and brick me in down there?" He asked, and your eyebrows rose at the unexpected reference to Poe's Cask of Amontillado. At your obvious surprise, Oliver gives a half smile, reminding you that you'd left a book of Poe's work in the drawer by his bed. He'd read it? You're not sure why you're so touched by that, but you are.

"If we end up drunk in the wine cellar, I promise I won't be leaving you alone down there," there's a surprising amount of affection in your voice for what is ultimately some pretty on the nose flirting, but Oliver seems to appreciate it nonetheless.

When you return from your own room with a pair of cufflinks for him, however, his expression is pensive as he's sitting on the edge of the bed, flicking through the copy of Othello you'd left there.

"Thought my party had something to do with the Midsummer Night's Dream one," he says with faint confusion. You've already got the line you'd found earlier memorised, so you're not concerned that he's flicking through, losing your page in the process.

"No, it is, it's just Farleigh -" except you really don't want to tell Oliver exactly what Farleigh had called him, had implied about him with a single, derisive nickname alone. Iago. You shrugged, "he just said something earlier that reminded me of it is all." Then, sitting down beside him, you shoot for a smile, "what are you up to now; tie?"

For a long few moments, Oliver gives you this utterly unreadable expression. You wonder if he knows the play; if he did, he could almost definitely make an educated guess about what Farleigh's comment may have been, especially given the very recent circumstances. Even if you don't know exactly how Oliver would react to something like that, you're not exactly eager to find out.

The moment thankfully does pass without further comment on the play, with Oliver instead standing and heading to the full length mirror by the wardrobe.

"Is your family helping Felix's with paying for Farleigh's uni and stuff?" Oliver asks with genuine curiosity in his voice as he glances at you in the mirror's reflection.

"What?" The question seems to come out of nowhere, and your reaction is entirely genuine.

"I just wondered if that was, you know, part of the reason he was so loyal to you," Oliver shrugged, though there's something almost apologetic in his eyes, "and, I guess, why you knew you could trust him to be so loyal?"

How did he even know the Cattons were helping with Farleigh's education? Your suspicions were with Elspeth, whom you loved despite how much of a gossip she always was, but Oliver admits that Felix had told him about how he and Farleigh were cousins, and Sir James' guilt over his semi-estranged sister, all the way back at Oxford. Ah, makes sense. Part of it was probably to explain why Farleigh was always hanging around them despite his obvious distaste for Oliver. It takes you a beat to compose your thoughts; knowing both Oliver, and Farleigh, you had to be deliberately sure of whatever information you shared in this moment.

"I'd give Farleigh anything if he asked," you admitted, wearing a faint, sad little smile as you recall how coldly he'd looked at you earlier that day, "but he never has," you shook your head, "not about something like that at least. Why?"

Looking over at the mirror, you see Oliver with his tie done up, looking at you in the reflection as though you're a puzzle he's desperately attempting to solve. But, when you smile, he returns the look in kind.

"I think this might just be one of those times where I have to remember you telling me there's more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in my philosophy," Oliver says with a wry smile, and you can't help but laugh at the memory of your first proper conversation with him about your friendship with Farleigh on one of Oxford's many rooves.

"Farleigh is simply one of my best friends; I don't begrudge him his pride, it's part of who he is, and I love who he is," with your warm laughter, the mood in the room has lightened considerably, and you finally stand. Wrapping your arms around Oliver from behind, perching your chin on his shoulder, you take in the sight of you both in the mirror.

"You know, I think you'd look so beautiful in a dress if you ever wanted to wear one," you tell Oliver idly, handing over the box with the little, golden cufflinks that you'd been fidgeting with on the bed.

"Beautiful enough to give an old man a sexuality crisis?" He asked with a blithe grin, pulling out of your grip if only to make his way to the cupboard where his jacket had been hung.

"Oh, undoubtably," you don't even hesitate, sitting yourself in the arm chair by the window, watching him once more.

"Don't know if I could start with a cocktail dress," he says, gazing at himself in the mirror with a pleasantly thoughtful look in his eyes as he genuinely considers the idea. Then, "I think I trust you with this more than I trust me," he gives a suddenly self conscious chuckle, ducking his gaze, fidgeting with the collar of the jacket he was still holding.

"You don't have to start anywhere if you don't want," you assured him faintly, but Oliver's smile is so damn affectionate.

"It's fuckin' impossible to describe the kind of effect you have," he tells you, shaking his head, "if you say I'd look beautiful, all I know is that I think I want to look beautiful, just so long as it's you who's looking at me."

"I feel very lucky sometimes," you give an endeared hum at his words, grinning to yourself, "my beautiful boys." Oliver, jacket now on, freezes. He's turning a delightful shade of red at that, looking like he was trying and failing to fight off a pleased grin. Finally, he meets your gaze in the mirror, "would you let me put together a costume for you, for your birthday?"

"What?"

"It's a costume party after all, could I put together a costume for you? Not a cocktail dress, I promise," you teased, and Oliver finally turned back to you, regarding you with nothing but love and affection.

"You know, sometimes I still can't believe you give me the time of day," the words almost seem to surprise him as they leave his lips. Something in your chest tightens, and you pause, once again caught off guard by Oliver Quick. There's a sweetness to the way he speaks that has butterflies fluttering so strangely in your stomach, "you're so..." he turns the words over in his mind, looking for the correct one, before he finally settles, "you're a dream," he says simply, "I don't think you don't get enough credit."

His words fill the sudden silence of the early evening as he steps towards you, cufflinks in hand, offering them as a silent request for assistance. You agree without even thinking.

In the back of your mind, you hear Farleigh calling Oliver Iago, but you can't bring yourself to care. Yes, Oliver spent enough time around you, observing you, talking to you, being in your space, that he knows exactly what to say and how to say it to endear himself to you. Clearly he's genuinely fond of you, but it's not often he gives you a compliment like this. Everything always so deliberate.

But it feels so fucking good to have someone put in the effort for you, someone other than Felix. Felix had always known how you worked, what songs to sing to make you dance if the whim ever struck him. It almost overwhelms you to realise that Oliver had learned how to hum along to the quiet song your heart sings too.

You wonder if you should tell Oliver that he doesn't need to try and manipulate his way into your life, that you'd already made a place for him here, all he had to do was ask to stay.

"I keep giving you the time of day because I'm very, very vain," you can't bring yourself to face his sincerity with any of your own, or you think you may either start crying, or possibly jump his bones, and it's too close to dinner for either. Instead, you grin from ear to ear, teasing tone letting him know how clearly you were joking, as you fixed the first cufflink to his jacket's sleeve, "and you keep saying lovely things about me."

"Lucky for me then that I don't think I'll ever run out of lovely things to say about you," you'd forgotten just how well Oliver could flirt when he really wanted to. Eyes bright and smile brighter, you can see mischief sparkling in his eyes when you look up, meeting his gaze. You love this boy so much it feels like it hurts at times like this.

"Think that means I should keep you very close by, at all times."

"Very few places I'd rather be, sweetheart."

That beautiful bastard knew exactly what he was doing to you.

Later, out of this space, out of this moment, out of Oliver's arms, you could go back to worrying about the night, about all the lies oscillating around your whole situation, about Felix and Farleigh and Venetia. Later, you'll find yourself thinking that Farleigh may have had far more of a point with Othello than you'd first realised when you read 'one that loved not too wisely, but too well' before you put the text back on the shelf.

Later.

Right now, you let Oliver pull you in for a kiss.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #oliver quick x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick x you #venetia catton imagine #venetia catton x you #venetia catton x reader #venetia catton x reader x felix catton #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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littlemarianah · 3 days

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My headcannons about District 12

Katniss's parents' names are Ruth and Robin.

Ruth never knew that Peeta's father liked her. My boy never tried to get closer lol

The ages and names of the Mellark brothers are: Peeta (16y), Rye (18y) and Bran (21y)

Katniss's father was a leader among the miners, they spread words of revolt with music and tried to change the inhumane conditions in the mines. That's why he was killed with his colleagues in a fake accident.

The miners have work songs that they sing every morning on the way to the mines.

The water is very polluted because of coal mining waste in the rivers. You need to buy packaged water to drink.

Robin and Gale's father did not get along and always stole from each other's bushmeat customers, but they were friends during their childhood.

Gale's grandmother is Maude Ivory

Katniss and Gale are actually long distance cousins lol

Rory Hawthorne has a crush on Prim and kisses her in D13 (hihi 👉👈)

They have many respiratory illnesses because of the coal dust.

A tradition for boys who reach the age to work in the mines is to have their faces smeared with coal by their father.

The birth rate is high because the Capital does not provide any form or education for birth control

Most women have their first child at age 18.

Ruth's parents are alive and still keep the pharmacy running, but they refuse to talk to their daughter.

Peeta has many cousins.

Gale is very popular with girls, until kissing them. Because he's a really bad kisser lol

Katniss Everdeen is a legend! Everyone has heard of her. The girl who always shoots squirrels in the eyes.

There are many myths about forests, children are terrified of the sounds of wolves, they think they are monsters

There is a tradition that brides have to put flowers and herbs inside their bras on their wedding day to attract good luck.

The most stylish thing you can have in District 12 are cowboy boots. Everyone wants one, but only the richest kids have.

At school there are three types of sports that you can choose from: wrestling, running and distance jumping.

#district 12 #headcanon #the hunger games #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #gale hawthorne

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cerise-on-top · 3 days

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Singing Price a Lullaby

Reusing one of my favorite ideas! I actually put in the names of all the characters I write for into a random picker and I got Price! Lovely, he's earned it!

Looking up from your phone, you gazed through the window, looking at the few stars and clouds that were visible. The sun had kissed the planet goodnight a while ago. And yet, here you were, all alone still, lying in your bed as you awaited your lover to finally finish his work for the day. A torturous time, really. Although he may have been so near, you dared not disturb him in what he deemed so important. And thus you were left to your own devices for hours now, asking him whether or not he had desired some food from time to time. Truthfully, an empty stomach was the only thing to make John abandon his oh so important work. And even then, conversation was sparse, he merely thought about work, not paying you much mind. While there may be the occasional answer were you to ask a question, it was short. He may have been the captain of a prestigious force, but that didn’t mean he should neglect you like that. Even you, with your understanding nature, had your limits. But it wasn’t John unintentionally ignoring you for the majority of the day that got to you, no. What really irked you was how few breaks he took. Yes, what he had to do was indeed of utmost importance, but you’d rather have him take care of himself either way. You brought him tea and water, incentives to get away from his paperwork for a few minutes at a time.

Looking at your phone yet again, the clock read 21:23. Had it been up to you, you would have dragged John from his desk and into bed. While you may not have been as strong as he was physically, you would hold him down until sleep would take him. If you needed to, you would learn to tie knots as well, anything to get your boyfriend to rest. With a sigh, you turned off your phone, deciding that you, and him, had had enough for the night. Your bed may have been a bastion of comfort, but it was incomplete without him. And thus, yet again, you sought him out in the one place he could almost always be found.

You knocked on the door to his office and, to no surprise, John invited you in, not bothering to open the door himself, however.

“Evening, love. Can I help you?” It was late, he had been working since the morning. Evidently, he was tired, his speech a bit slower than usual. John even had the gall to stifle a yawn around you. Had you been stronger, you would have picked him up, thrown him over your shoulder and carried him to your shared bed. But alas he was too heavy. The sentiment was still very much there, though.

“John, don’t you think it’s time to head to bed? It’s half past nine pm already, you’ve been at this since ten am.”

Turning back to his paperwork, he tapped the pen against his papers. “Just a little bit longer, then I’ll stop for the time being.”

Those few sentences made you irrationally angry. ‘Just a little longer’, that usually meant he’d be at this for another three hours or so, which was unacceptable. You took a deep breath and gently closed the door behind you. However, you could not pretend to be calm any longer as you stomped over to John, taking his papers from him and scanning them over. “Spelling error. Spelling error. Did you doze off as you wrote this? Wrong use of ‘than’. Spelling error.” You put the papers down with force, it was a surprise none of them had flown off the desk. “John, you’re dead tired and mentally exhausted. I think it’s time you call it quits for the night.”

Putting his pen down, he sighed. “Love, it’s alright. This is important and the deadline is coming up soon enough. I can go to bed later. I’m not tired just yet either.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you a bit closer and resting his head against you, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’ll join you soon enough, don’t worry.”

“Stop shitting me. You’re leaving this room right now.” Grabbing his arm, you pulled him up. You had expected otherwise, but he put up no fight as you dragged him off the chair. It seemed as though not even he wanted to really work anymore this late. No one was going to burn him at the stakes for heading to bed for the night. Or stopping for any other reason. “And if you’re not tired, fine. We’ll do something else until you are tired.” What a liar. You were sure if you forced him to bed and wrapped a blanket around him he’d be gone in roughly ten minutes. Maybe even less. His eyes were only half open, and he was, yet again, stifling a yawn. “Come on, we’re heading to the living room. I have an idea for what we can do.”

For a moment he hesitated, refusing to go along with you as you were halfway through the door. John looked back at the documents on his desk, barely moving as you tried to drag him through the door. His gaze seemed almost empty as he stared off into space. He was half asleep, even while standing there. Eventually, he relented, turning off the lights and following you into the living room.

Holding onto his wrist still, you sat down on the couch, patting your lap as John simply stared at you. Raising his eyebrow, it was clear what he wanted to convey. ‘I’m too heavy for you, I won’t be sitting in your lap.’ But that wasn’t your intention either.

“Lie down, put your head on my lap.” Although he may have been a captain, he obeyed your command, no complaints from his side either. It was adorable how he looked up at you, barely conscious. You were certain he’d fall asleep eventually. However, maybe, just maybe, you could convince him to go to bed without him actually falling asleep in your lap. You wanted to sleep in your bed as well, after all. All of this could have been avoided if only he would take better care of himself. You’re going to scold him for that, but it could wait until tomorrow. For the time being you ran your fingers through his hair.

“What are we going to do now? Watch the telly?”

“Quiet, my dear. I’m thinking.” What you were about to do was kind of embarrassing. You were only really used to singing to yourself when no one was around. But you always found your voice to be quite soothing. In fact, you could sing yourself sleepy with certain songs as well. It was a blessing and a curse. You hoped you wouldn’t start yawning throughout it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as unlikely as one would think. Still, you’d give it your all. But what to sing? You wanted to go for something a bit nicer.

Eventually, you settled for a song, looking away from John for a bit before starting to play with his hair again. He never looked away from you, taking in all of your features, regardless of how many times he had seen them.

Your voice wasn’t overly loud, it wasn’t overly high pitched either as you sang. Still, you felt a bit embarrassed, avoiding John’s gaze. It seemed almost humiliating to you, singing in front of someone else after years of not doing so. But it would take John’s mind off of things, you hoped. Your little performance was nice, you could feel yourself relaxing a bit as well.

I think I found a flower in a field of weeds

Searching until my hands bleed

This flower don't belong to me

I think I found a flower in a field of weeds

Searching until my hands bleed

This flower don't belong to me

Why can't she belong to me?

Slowly, you could feel your eyes getting a bit droopy as well, a yawn coming along with the feeling. Still, you ignored such for the sake of continuing to sing. John shifted in your lap, laying down on his side as he nuzzled into your stomach. You couldn’t tell if he was actually enjoying this, anxiety building up in your chest. However, you had already started, it would be a shame to stop now.

Every word, every thought, every sound

Every touch, every smile, every frown

All the pain we've endured until now

All the hope that I lost, you have found

He wrapped his arms around your middle and sighed contently. Maybe your anxieties were unfounded after all. It wasn’t often he’d sigh like that, only when he was really comfortable. For a moment, you dared to look at him. His eyes were closed and he seemed happy.

Every word, every thought, every sound

Surrender

Every touch, every smile, every frown

Surrender

All the pain we've endured until now

Surrender

All the hope that I lost, you have found

His breathing was shallow and calm. Has he fallen asleep already? You would have preferred it if he had fallen asleep in your shared bed, but you supposed this was better than nothing. You could always just take a nap tomorrow.

I never had the nerve to ask

Surrender

Has my moment come and passed?

Surrender

I never had the nerve to ask

Surrender

Has my moment come and passed?

Surrender

I never had the nerve to ask

Surrender

Has my moment come and passed?

Surrender

I never had the nerve to ask

Your little performance was over now. You had found yourself to be quite tired yourself, but dared not to move in fear of waking John. Yet, eventually, he stirred awake, in spite of you not moving a muscle. His slumber didn’t last very long, if he had even slept in the first place.

“Beautiful, love. How come you never told me you could sing like that?”

“Well, it is a bit embarrassing. Even though I really do love singing. Anyway, go to bed, you stinker. It’s late and you’re tired.”

John sighed, but got up reluctantly. Having pulled you up with him, he linked his arm with yours. You were ready to hold him given how he swayed from left to right as he walked. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. You should sing more often. I’d love to hear you sing again sometime.”

“W-well, I’m sure that could be arranged… We’ll discuss that tomorrow. For now we’re heading to bed.”

“Wouldn’t dream of going anywhere else at this hour.” What a jester. Had you not intervened then he’d still be working away at some boring papers. But you were proud of him for complying. He needed that rest, after all.

You weren’t sure how long it took for him to actually fall asleep, but you could have sworn you heard light snoring the moment he hit the bed. In fact, he wasn’t even moving anymore, it was you, who had to drape the blanket over the both of you. But you didn’t mind. With a gentle kiss to the top of John’s head, you settled down for the night yourself, nestling into the blankets and getting comfortable. Eventually, you, too, fell asleep, tired from singing the lullaby.

#cod #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #price x reader #got a surge of writing inspiration today and decided to finally write this! I've been meaning to for a while now anyway #the song reader is singing is Surrender by Billy Talent #it's one of my favorite songs to imagine romantic things to #I think it's one of my favorite songs in general #I like to think that Price listens to that sort of music himself so he knows and likes that song as well #man when is it my turnn to finally sing my partner a nice little lullaby? singing is humiliating but oh so very nice #Originally I wanted to write this idea with Ghost but decided I'd spin the wheel and take another character and thus here's Price #I know he's the big and strong captain but the things I'd do to be able to take care of that man. Need to put his head in my lap!!#and then play with his hair until he falls asleep! and when he's completely relaxed?#I'm gonna take advantage of that and give him a kissy on his forehead #Silly little stinker! Sleepy little guy! I will make him go to bed! I can't assert dominance to save my life but trust me he'll sleep!#There's just nothing cuter than a sleepy little guy falling asleep in your arms! He needs that rest so bad!

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