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ryuzakistoe · 3 months ago

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Conflicted (Michael Kaiser x Fem!reader)

angst, fem!reader, arguing, and uhhh basically all angst, childhood friends, swearing

a/n: after this I honestly have no idea who to do next. I'm kinda in between Isagi again or someone else🤷‍♀️

I also got this as inspiration

BTW IM SO SORRY FOR BEING LATE

(omg I finally got it to work omg)

——

Experiencing someone you love deeply suddenly transform into a stranger can feel like the ground has fallen away beneath you. The trust you placed in them, the cherished memories, the laughter shared—all of it can vanish in an instant, leaving you grappling with an unbearable emptiness.

In the face of such devastation, some cling desperately to hope, convinced that the past can be reclaimed. They construct fragile illusions to shield themselves from the harsh truth, believing that everything will somehow return to the way it was. But these comforting lies only deepen the wounds, which lie temporarily closed, waiting to reopen with even more agony.

How long could you endure this torment? Some carry this weight for a lifetime, while others crumble under the pressure far too soon. For you, how long will you hold on, waiting for that moment when you perhaps see him again? How long until the heaviness of his “explanation” crushes you? In the end, when the truth finally pierces through the lies you've built around your heart, how will you cope with the devastation and lies?

Thats up to you.

…🥀…

Frequent moves were a normal part of your life, given that your father, a businessman, was always busy either supporting or establishing new companies. Over time, you became accustomed to the constant change, no longer feeling as upset or frustrated about leaving behind new memories and friends.

With your mother having sadly passed away, your father was the only family you had. However, his demanding schedule often kept him away, leaving you with too much free time. You would often wander aimlessly, your father always worrying since you were still so young.

One day, during one of these aimless walks, you noticed a boy around your age dressed in dusty, worn clothes, playing with an old, worn out soccer ball. You found yourself standing there, captivated, as he skillfully shifted the ball from one foot to the other. The fluid motion of his dribbling drew you in, sparking a sense of fascination.

Eventually, the boy noticed your quiet admiration.

"Can I help you, gnädige Frau?" he asked, his thick German accent coloring his voice as he stopped the ball under his foot.

Since arriving in Germany a few months ago, you had made steady progress with the language. Your father insisted you familiarize yourself with the formalities and learn a good number of words, as speaking German would be essential for getting by.

"I was just watching you play," you replied, mirroring his language and matching the casual energy in his tone.

He regarded you for a moment, as though sizing you up, before speaking again. "Do you know how to play? Fußball, meine ich," he said, his expression unreadable.

You hesitated briefly. While you were familiar with the basics and rules of football, you'd never actually played it. Your most significant experience with the sport had been attending a game with your cousin—an exciting memory, but that was as far as it went.

"I'm not sure how to play, but I understand the basics and the rules," you admitted, glancing briefly at the soccer ball.

"Only the basics, huh?" he murmured, flicking the ball up with the same foot that had held it steady. It flew in the air before dropping neatly into his arms.

The blonde boy began to walk toward you, his gaze fixed on you the entire time. Stopping just a few feet away, he asked, "What's your name?"

"Y/n L/n," you answered softly.

"Y/n L/n…" he echoed, as if testing the sound of your name on his tongue. His eyes drifted to the side, and he repeated your name again, his tone thoughtful, as though trying to commit it to memory or decipher some hidden meaning within it.

“And what's your name?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at his peculiar behavior.

The blonde boy seemed to snap out of his thoughts, his eyes meeting yours again. "Michael Kaiser," he replied.

Without warning, he tossed the ball toward you, giving you no time to react. It landed between your feet, and you glanced down at it slowly.

"Kick the ball," he instructed.

You looked back up at Kaiser, processing his words. Kick the ball? That sounded simple enough. You positioned your foot carefully, recalling how professional players did it, and swung your leg forward.

The ball rolled back to Kaiser with surprising smoothness, considering you had little experience with football.

Catching it effortlessly with his foot, Kaiser smirked. "Not bad for someone who doesn't know how to play," he remarked.

You weren’t sure if he was being genuine or just mocking you. "Thanks," you mumbled quietly, watching as he shuffled the ball between his feet.

He suddenly paused, then said something that caught you off guard. "Play with me."

You raised an eyebrow. "But I told you, I don’t really know how to play."

"I'll teach you," he responded almost instantly, his tone carrying a hint of urgency. There was a longing in his voice, and you could understand why. It had clearly been a while since he'd had anyone to play with.

Kaiser was always alone. The other kids avoided him, seeing him as an oddball because of his scruffy clothes, unkempt hair, and the bruises that covered him—marks left by his father. They treated him like an outcast, believing there was something wrong with him.

While they ignored him, Kaiser watched from a distance, wishing he could join in, longing for the kind of companionship they took for granted.

He would often imagine himself in the place of one of the other kids, letting his mind create a vivid scene of joining in and having fun. It was as if his consciousness played alongside them while his real body stayed behind, observing from a distance.

But now, he had a real chance to play with someone, no longer just imagining the experience.

Kaiser began teaching you everything he knew about football. You didn’t become an instant expert, but you quickly gained a better understanding of the sport. It started simply, with the two of you passing the ball back and forth while he explained the basics. Gradually, he introduced more advanced moves, each one more challenging than the last.

Before long, you had learned almost everything he had to teach, and Kaiser was genuinely pleased. Finally, he had someone to share the game with—a real companion, not just a daydream.

Day after day, whenever your father was busy with work, you met up with Kaiser. The two of you would play quick soccer matches, though Kaiser usually came out on top. It didn’t matter to him who won; having someone to share his favorite pastime with was all he had ever wanted as of right now.

You found yourself enjoying his company too. Since moving here, you hadn’t had anyone to talk to, spending most of your free time wandering aimlessly through unfamiliar places. Meeting Kaiser changed that. He had become an important part of your life, and you could tell that he felt the same.

The time you spent together brought you happiness, and the bond you shared grew stronger with each passing day. But then, a few years later, everything began to change.

…🥀…

Kaiser was well aware of his growing feelings for you. He wasn’t oblivious; he knew all too well the risks of letting them show. But that didn't stop them from deepening. It only made it harder to ignore.

After years of hard work, he finally secured a spot on Bastard München’s football team—a dream realized, and you had been there through it all. You were always by his side, ready to support him whenever he needed it. You were the person he could lean on, and that meant everything to him.

Over time, he came to depend on you. There were days when it felt like you were the only one who truly understood him, when he found himself seeking you out for solace. Your presence brought him a sense of calm that no one else could.

He began to rely on you.

It was inevitable, really. Being around someone as steadfast and caring as you, his feelings naturally began to shift and grow into something more.

He started to notice the way his gaze lingered on you whenever you spoke, how his cheeks would flush at the sight of your smile. He noticed how much weight your words carried with him, how the sun seemed to light up your skin in a way that drew him in. He couldn’t ignore the warmth that bloomed inside him just from seeing you.

He began to notice everything. And as much as he loved these feelings, he hated them just as much.

This was exactly what he was afraid of—this so-called "love" that threatened to unravel him. The thought of being vulnerable, of exposing that side of himself, terrified him. As his reputation as the "Emperor" grew, so did his fear of appearing weak.

His skills, his ego, and you—they had all shaped who he was and brought him to this point. He couldn’t afford to risk that. It was only natural that he didn’t want to gamble away everything he had worked for. Throwing it all away over a feeling seemed like the height of foolishness.

But was all the arguing and shared anger really worth it?

No, not at all.

…

"Y/n, is it really that hard for you to just listen to me?”

"But why…? Why now?"

The look Kaiser gave you was unfamiliar, his eyes now cold and distant. It was a side of him you had never seen before.

How did it come to this?

…

In the past few days, something had changed in him. The warmth that once lit up his face whenever he saw you had vanished, replaced by a faint scowl. The way he looked at you now—like you were just another bothersome fan—stung in a way you couldn’t understand. Sometimes he would just ignore your presence entirely, leaving you in silence.

"Y/n, I won't say it again. Please, for once, just listen and go. I don’t want to see you right now."

"But Michael! You still haven't told me why!" The desperation in your voice hung in the air, unanswered.

But It was as if Kaiser had just… snapped. Was it your endless questions? Your desperate pleas? Or maybe it was the look in your eyes each time he tried to brush you off.

"You want the truth, Y/n? Fine. Just looking at you makes me sick!"

His words hit like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. What did he mean? Had he always felt this way? If so, for how long? Were you too much for him?

A storm of thoughts swirled in your mind, each one cutting deeper than the last, as you felt the sting of tears welling up.

"Michael… what…?" you whispered, your voice trembling and barely audible.

"You make me feel sick, Y/n. Nauseous." His tone was sharp, laced with irritation, as if the very act of saying it exhausted him.

A couple of tears managed to form in your eye sockets as you quietly murmured, “Michael…but why? Why do I make you feel like this? Was it something I did..—”

Kaiser clenched his jaw, frustration and bitterness seething beneath his words. How could you be so clueless?

“Yes, Y/N, you did do something—no, you did everything!” he burst out. “Every time you smile, I can’t look away. Your stupid hair falls just right and it’s distracting. Your annoying voice—it calms me, like some kind of spell. And your eyes, the way they look at me… I feel sick because of the warmth you put in my stomach. I hate that I look forward to your presence, that you’re all I think about, that I’ve developed these feelings for you—I hate it all!” His fists tightened, a mix of embarrassment and anger rising to his face.

Your eyes widened. Was this a confession? Were these compliments or just veiled insults? What was he trying to say?

You stared at him, speechless, before managing to whisper, “Michael… you… you have feelings for me?”

Kaiser glanced away, reluctant to admit it. But there was no denying it—this was, in its own way, almost a confession.

Mind you, Almost, a confession.

"I wish I didn’t." His voice was low, almost resigned, and you couldn't help the frown that tugged at your lips. Why would he want to bury something as powerful as this? It didn’t make sense.

"Michael… " you spoke, your voice barely a whisper. "Why would you wish these feelings away? I… I could feel the same way about you, you know…"

He shook his head slowly, as if each movement was a struggle. When he spoke, his tone was firm but tinged with something that resembled sorrow. "It doesn't matter, Y/n. Even if you do, I can't accept it. I can’t accept us."

His words hit you like a cold gust of wind. "You mean… you wouldn't be able to return my feelings?" Your chest tightened as you forced out the question, though deep down, you already knew the answer.

Michael's silence was answer enough, but still, you couldn’t let it end there. "Well," you began, the words stumbling out before you could stop them, "I guess that’s just too bad because… I really do have feelings for you." Your voice wavered slightly, betraying how hard it was to admit, but the truth had taken root too deeply to be ignored.

You had begun to realize it months ago, maybe even longer. The symptoms of love crept in slowly, almost imperceptibly at first—the way his presence made you feel more alive, the longing to hear his voice even when he wasn’t around, the flutter in your chest with every small gesture. Now, standing in front of him, all those little moments coalesced into something undeniable. Yet, here you were, offering your heart to someone who refused to hold it.

You found yourself looking forward to every visit with him, craving the moments you could be near. Even though you saw each other regularly, it never felt like enough. You often caught yourself inventing excuses just to stay a little longer, clinging to each second as if it might be your last chance to be close.

Your gaze drifted toward him, hoping to catch his eye and find some sign of understanding there. But instead of meeting your gaze, he looked away, his expression guarded.

"As I said before, Y/n, I can't," he repeated, his voice steady but distant.

Frustration surged within you, a knot tightening in your chest. Why couldn’t he just explain? Why was he so determined to keep you at arm's length? "Michael, for heaven’s sake, just tell me why!" you demanded, your voice rising with a mix of irritation and desperation. "Why can’t you? We could figure this out… it doesn’t have to be this way."

You were exhausted—tired of the same vague answer, the same unyielding response. "I can’t" wasn’t good enough anymore. You needed the truth, a real reason to justify the wall he kept building between you.

Kaiser noticed the edge in your voice, and frustration flared in his eyes as he responded, his tone sharper than before. "Because I can't risk everything I’ve worked so hard for, Y/n! I’ve fought so hard to get where I am now, and I can't afford any distractions—not even love."

Distraction?

You blinked, his words hitting you like a slap. He thought this—whatever was between you—was just a distraction?

"H-huh…?" you breathed, the word barely audible as it slipped from your lips.

Kaiser tilted his head back, a bitter sigh escaping him as his jaw clenched in obvious irritation. "Did you not understand what I just said?" His voice dripped with exasperation, as though explaining himself was an exhausting chore.

You felt your brows draw together in a scowl, his words twisting in your mind. Of course, you heard him loud and clear, but all you could focus on was how cruel and dismissive he sounded. This whole "distraction" excuse felt like nothing but bullshit—a convenient shield to hide behind, rather than an honest reason.

"Is that what I am to you?" you said, your voice quivering with anger. It seems as if this was just another excuse of his.

His answer left you both hurt and furious, a bitter mix of emotions twisting inside you. Sure, you finally got the explanation you’d been pushing for, but this? This was what he had to say?

"Love… a distraction?" you echoed, your voice strained as you struggled to keep your composure. "Michael, are you serious right now?" You could barely recognize the man standing before you; this wasn’t the Michael Kaiser you thought you knew.

"Do I look like I'm making this up, Y/n?" he shot back, his tone icy and unyielding. "I can’t let anything interfere. I've worked too hard for what I have, and I won't risk losing it all just to chase after some fantasy. I can’t afford to be blinded by ‘love.’ I can’t afford to be weak. Not now." He took a step closer, his gaze piercing into yours.

You stared into those familiar blue eyes—eyes that once looked at you with warmth and admiration. Now, they were cold and hollow, carrying only frustration and something far more unsettling: emptiness. It was like staring into the eyes of a stranger, someone who had shed any trace of the person you thought you cared for.

"I want to be the best, and I can’t do that with emotions weighing me down," he said, his tone harsh and unyielding. "I need a clear path, free from distractions. Do you even realize how much I stand to lose if I let the smallest thing pull my focus? I could lose everything. I could end up weak… and that’s something I refuse to accept."

His words felt like a cold slap, each one slicing through you. "I’ve sacrificed so much just to get where I am today. So there it is, Y/n. I won’t let these emotions derail me. Not even for you."

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it, a silent testament to the heartbreak squeezing your chest. Was this really it? Was he just going to leave you behind because you didn’t fit into his perfect, distraction-free life? It felt like the ground had fallen out from beneath you.

"This is bullshit, Michael," you snapped, your voice shaking with anger. "You’re just going to drop me like that? After everything? After all the times I’ve been there for you, stood by your side, supported you through every step of your soccer career—this is how you repay me? Do you even realize how messed up that is?"

Your voice rose, trembling with the frustration and betrayal burning inside you. "You can’t just cut me out because I don’t fit neatly into your plans. Do you even hear yourself right now?"

Anger flared in his eyes, and his voice rose, laced with frustration. "Yes, Y/n, I’m going to leave you! Didn’t you hear a word I just said? I can’t risk everything I’ve worked for. I’ve come too far to let ‘love’ make me weak—I’ll lose it all!"

"Why can’t you see that love won’t make you weak?" you cried out, your voice cracking with desperation.

"Tch. I already told you—it’s a distraction," he shot back, his tone cold and dismissive.

Each word felt like a dagger, piercing deeper as he repeated the same relentless argument, as if mocking the very idea of you. He was unyielding, his walls built so high that nothing you said could seem to reach him.

"So that’s it, then?" you murmured, your voice trembling as tears stung your eyes. "All of it? All of this—even me—it’s just a distraction?"

For a split second, something in his expression wavered. The guilt in his eyes betrayed him as he saw the hurt etched across your face. But just as quickly, he masked it, his pride and stubbornness locking him in place. He stayed silent, his hand twitching as if he wanted to reach out but refused to let himself.

The truth was, when you first told him how you felt, a spark of joy had flickered inside him—something he hadn’t felt in a long time. But now, with every pained word that left your lips, he buried that feeling deeper, forcing it down beneath the weight of his ambition. He couldn’t afford to let you see it. He couldn’t afford to let himself feel it.

It pained him to see you like this, knowing he was the cause. He never intended to hurt you like this—never imagined he’d be the one to break your heart.

Of course, his ambitions meant more to him than his "best friend." That was the cruel truth—his future outweighed everything, even you.

The silence stretched between you until you finally broke it, your voice trembling. "Is that a yes or a no, Michael? Please… just answer me."

His gaze softened at the sight of you, your face etched with desperation and pain. He truly felt bad—guilt clawed at him—but he couldn’t let it sway him. He believed this was necessary. He believed it was for the best.

"Yes," he said quietly.

The word hit you like a blow, and your head dropped, a broken breath escaping your lips. You never thought it would come to this—never imagined this was how the two of you would part ways.

Quiet sobs began to slip from you, growing louder with each passing second as tears streamed down your cheeks. Soon, the dam broke, and you were wailing into your hands, trying in vain to wipe away the endless flow of tears. Your heart ached with a hollow emptiness that spread through your chest—the same emptiness that Michael once filled, now torn wide open.

It felt as though a piece of you had been ripped away. You and Michael had been through hell and back together, always supporting and lifting each other up. Now, there was a cold, hollow place in your heart where he used to be, a void that felt unbearable.

After a moment, you forced yourself to look up, only to see him walking away, the distance between you growing with every step.

"Michael… mein Schatz… come back… please…" you whispered, your voice breaking. "I can't do this without you…" But he was already too far to hear, your pleas swallowed up by the empty space between you.

Kaiser kept his eyes on the ground, watching his own feet carry him further away. He didn’t dare look back. "Goodbye, meine Liebe…" he murmured softly, the words escaping like a breath.

a/n: so I actually kinda took my time with this so I hope its better 😐

Also I just rewatched aot, tell me why I forgot how FINE jean was in s4🤧😫 (and Levi)

ANDDD IM ROCKING WITH BLLK S2🤤

I'm going to lick his tattoos bro

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leclercsbunny · 1 year ago

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maybe if you loved me ♡ c.sainz

part two ♡ masterlist

F1CHAI the summer vacation not only brings dramatic shifts and shuffles among the current lineup, it also brings forth a new *rumored* couple. after a previous relationship that was rife with confusion and so much controversy, y/n has rose to the trends, this time, with daniel ricciardo headlining the event. their similar posts have sparked discussions all through out the interweb, prompting fans to speculate that they have spent their break together.

"haagen or ben and jerry's?" daniel hollers from the kitchen, and you raised your head to shout back, "both!"

you focused on the task at hand, picking the perfect movie or series to binge while munching on the junk food spread on the table. it was covered with all the essentials for a night in; chocolates, popcorn, fries and nuggets. you were wrapped in the fluffiest of blankets, and the felt the most comfortable you've ever been in a while.

daniel sat himself on your side, grabbing the other end of the blanket and getting cosy himself. you murmured a quiet thanks when he handed you the icey treat, leaning into him when he kissed your head with a welcome in return.

the aussie raises an eyebrow to his phone, seeing notifications flash after the other and feeling it hot under his touch. he chuckles, showing the barrage of mentions and messages he's recieved, "see, i'm not totally sure but i think they're saying we're on a holiday. together."

"me with daniel ricciardo?" you gasp for added effect, "i couldn't possibly."

"i know, where could they have gotten it from?" he sighs dramatically. "i'm woefully alone."

"and i'm utterly heartbroken," you touched your chest with a fake pout, "on a soul searching rendezvous."

"we're a bit pathetic." he tilts his head, a grin forming on his face. "but in-a-totally-chill way." you giggle.

"it's nice to be sad and pathetic together, though." he nods his head with a laugh, "ditto." you toast your respective icecream cups.

you both settle into comfortable silence, watching the generic comedy film playing on the television. daniel's arms felt comfortable around you, and you naturally fell into his embrace... he felt safe, and warm.

"thanks for being a friend dani." you mumble, on the prepice of sleep.

"... someday.." you were too incoherent to understand what he said in reply, only faintly registering his lips on the top of your head.

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 1,799,682 others.

carlossainz55 hace más calor en españa

*It's hotter in spain

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landonorris 👀

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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,692,602 others.

danielricciardo i'm not worried💤

username he violated you carlossainz55

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username netflix are you seeing this ??

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trippinsorrows · 7 days ago

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through your eyes + au 5

authors note: it's been so long. omg. i'm sorry. thank you to my bestie @prettypynklemonade for essentially making me update this 😭

masterlist

words: 6.7k

**gif by @dejameflorecer

warnings: some fluff, roman being possessive/borderline stalkerish, and smut

It’s just a date. Just a low, non-commitment type of date.

At least, that’s what Solana keeps trying to tell herself. Keeps trying to remind herself. Keyword being trying, because of course, she decided to go the route of self-sabotage and self-harm by keying in Rhea on just what’s been going on, and more specifically, who she’s going on said date with.

“Are you out of your fawking mind?” Solana sighs while Kayden does her eyeshadow for her.

The shorter woman snorts, working to blend in the crease color. “Well, that went as expected."

“Is this a joke? It has to be a joke?” She walks over to the two women, her tall presence alone demanding their attention. “Please tell me this is a joke.”

Kayden bites on her lip. “I—I don’t think it’s a joke.”

Solana sighs. “Rhea—”

“Sola.” Nothing about her voice indicates anything about what she’s about to say is going to be nice. “You can’t do this.”

“It’s just a date, Rhea.”

“Yeah, with Roman fawking Reigns.” Solana winces at the disgust imbued in his name. “He’s a sociopath. Why the hell would you even want to go out with someone like that?”

“He’s not….” Solana stops, unsure of how to word it. “I think there’s more to him than people realize.”

“Yeah, more evil,” Rhea harshly rebuffs. “Whatever you think you see in him, I promise, is an act. If he’s being nice to you, it’s only because he wants to fuck you.”

Another wince from Solana as Rhea more or less reiterates what Kayden first hypothesized when Solana confided in her best friend about the man.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Kayden speaks up, turning to Rhea. “Regardless of how we may feel, Solana is a grown woman. She can make her own decisions.”

“This isn’t a decision. It’s a big ass mistake.” Rhea’s gazes soften for the first time, her tone almost pleading. “Solana, please don’t do this. You’re one of my best friends. I don’t want to see you get hurt, and Roman Reigns is the exact kind of person who would hurt you.”

It’s strange. Just a month ago, Solana would 100% agree. Would not even be in this situation, because she would have found a way to cut Roman off, get away from him, even if it meant leaving town for a little while.

But, that was before she got to know him. Well, as much as one can get to know a mafia head who seems insistent on making her his, not excluding breaking into her home to ask her out on a date.

Solana is especially happy she decided to leave that part out of the story.

“It’s just a date,” is the final answer she settles on, not missing the disappointment in Rhea’s pretty blue eyes. “I promise, I’ll be careful.”

It’s definitely not the answer her friend was looking for, and Rhea doesn’t hesitate to make her disagreement known. As well as her boundaries.

“Well, I don’t want him here. This is your home, but it’s ours too,” she gestures between herself and Kayden. “And if you want to play with fire, I don’t want the flames anywhere near us.”

It’s a bit hurtful but fair. Solana nods. “I understand.”

She can’t allow herself to think about how the flames have already entered their humble abode, partially because of Roman’s lack of boundaries, but mostly because she’s continued to allow the lack of said boundaries.

Rhea’s gaze is assessing. “Your family doesn’t know, do they?” Intended as a question. Comes out as a statement.

Solana’s answer is quiet. “No.”

Another pointed look. “I wonder why that is.”

“Okay,” Kayden cuts in, nervous chuckling a contrast to the tension building. “Obviously, we don’t necessarily agree with Solana’s actions, but again, we listen and we don’t judge.”

Rhea scoffs. “Speak for your fucking self.” She kicks off the door, turning to leave when Solana calls her name. A blown out breath followed by her turning around. “Yeah?”

It feels wrong to ask, but Solana doesn’t have much of a choice. “Please…..please don’t say anything to anyone.”

A small smile sets on Rhea’s face, but there’s nothing friendly about it. “You know, Sola, the fact that you even have to ask me that should tell you how fucked up this is.” The smile is wiped away, replaced with the disappointment. “Don’t worry. I have zero desire to tell anyone about this.”

—------

“You wanted to see me?”

Roman lifts his eyes from the contracts laid out in front of him. Right away, he can see his sister is annoyed. Unsurprising. Rosalia looks and is irritable on a daily basis, but considering her activewear, he’d bet she’s even more irked with him because he’s interrupted her training.

Slamming the door behind her, she walks in and props down on the sofa closest to said door. “It better be worth my fucking time, too.”

Her comment doesn’t bother him. Roman sits back in the chair, responding in a calm but steel voice, “I’m gonna right to the chase.”

She glares. “As you should.”

Roman’s smile is small and wry. “You’re interfering in my personal business, Rosie.” The smile is dropped. “You know I don’t like that shit.”

Rolling her eyes, his twin couldn’t be more unbothered. “You mind telling me what the fuck you’re talking about? Not that I care, but—”

“I know you said something to Solana,” he interrupts, gaze cutting. “Something that upset her.” Something that made her try to push him away, and that’s the part that really pisses him off.

His words seem to trigger something for his sister. “That little girl from the fight?” She scoffs, shaking her head. “She’s even more sensitive than I thought.”

“What did you say to her?”

“Nothing that wasn’t the truth.” Rosalia’s response is nonchalant as she casually admires her nails. “Just reminded her that she isn’t any different than your other hoes—”

Roman looks away, rolling his neck, doing his best to remind himself that Rosalia is his sister. She’s family. His response to her can’t be like it would to anyone else in this moment, where he’d already have pulled out his gun and lodged a bullet in their head.

He has to be…..mindful.

Running his hand through his beard, Roman manages a curt response. “Do me and yourself a favor, and stop fucking talking.” Because the more she does, the harder it will be to control his brewing temper. “Stay the fuck away from Solana.”

If he didn’t have her attention before, he most definitely has it now. “Excuse me? I don’t give a fuck about any of your little whores—”

He slams his fist on the desk, unable to taper his temper. “Call her out her name one more fucking time, Rosalia.”

His twin, however, is unbothered. Her eyes narrowing, assessing, studying. “Careful, brother, your feelings are showing.” Roman says nothing as his sister leans forward, head tilted. “You actually like this girl, don’t you?”

He doesn’t look away, but he doesn’t answer the question, either. “As I said, my personal life is none of your fucking business.”

Not answering the question is a bit of a necessity, because he doesn’t really know how to answer it. Saying he likes Solana feels a bit too much. He’s intrigued by her, massively so, intensely attracted to her and fantasizes about the day he can fuck her senseless. However, all of that can be true along with the fact that he doesn’t actually care about or like her.

Again, it’s just the intrigue of it all. She’s the first of many, many, women he’s entertained over the years that hasn’t fallen at his feet. Who he is, the power he holds, and the wealth he possesses doesn’t make her bat an eye. None of that means anything to her. In fact, she’s most definitely the first woman he’s had to pursue in his over thirty years on this earth, and while that may seem irksome and not worth it for most women, Solana is different. He doesn’t know how, but it and she just is. Hence him needing to put his sister in her place before she fucks up just whatever this is.

“And I as I told you, I don’t give a fuck about your personal life and who you decide to fuck. She was just there, and I told her the truth. Not my fault she couldn’t fucking handle it.”

“Rosalia.” He closes his eyes, that damn temptation to snap on her at an all time high. He’d never hit his sister, not unless they were training together, but he certainly isn’t above cussing her ass out and screaming at her. Right or not. “I’m only going to say it once. Leave Solana alone.”

His twin matches, meets, and maintains the stare-off. Sibling against sibling. Alpha vs Alpha. Naturally, she is the first to walk away, not back down. Never that. Just recognizes it isn’t worth it.

“Whatever.” She dismisses, standing up, hands on her hip. “Anything else you need to waste my time with?” She doesn’t wait for a reply, turning on her heel. “Didn’t think so.”

Anyone else would receive a much different response, especially as his sister slams the door, but as already stated, this is his sister. Rosalia drives him insane, but he loves her. It’s always been the two of them, and it always will be. Immediate family, at least. He just needed to establish some boundaries with her, and that’s been done. Should she decide to test them and test him, well, he’ll cross that bridge if and when they get there.

He doesn’t have time to focus on that.

He’s got a date tonight to focus on.

—--------

“Oh my gosh…..”

Solana has been on her fair share of dates. Most of which take place at a restaurant, from regular ole Red Lobster to restaurants with names so foreign and fancy that she can’t pronounce. Though the latter only happened once, and it was a disaster, resulting in her sneaking out halfway through the date.

But this, standing on the dock in front of the most stunning yacht she’s ever seen, she's certain that this takes the cake.

Solana is prompted by security to move so they can escort her onto said yacht, and she's so consumed by taking in everything majestic around her that she ends up completely oblivious to when she’s taken directly in front of the man himself.

Roman

He’s dressed appropriately given the setting and weather. Nice, short sleeved beige shirt with khaki shorts and matching shoes. Expensive watch on his wrist. Gold chain around his neck. Smoldering gaze on her, drinking her in from the bottom of her heels to the top of her head where her hair is pulled up in a nice updo.

He licks his lips. “Gotta admit, I was hoping you’d wear red.”

She refuses to tell him she considered it. “I—I like pink.”

He makes a sound and offers his hand. Solana takes a second to accept it, gasping quietly when he tugs her closer. “I like it.” His eyes flicker with something. “I think I’d like you better in nothing instead though.”

Solana tenses, hating the way she’s hit with something other than discomfort and is immensely grateful when he smiles. “Relax, sweetheart.” He starts to guide her behind him to where she realizes a table is set up for them, a romantic, beautiful dinner. “I’m a man of my word.” Solana tries not to think too much of him pulling out her chair for her. “I said no touching.”

Damn.

Embarrassment fills her at such a betraying thought, because why should she feel disappointed at that?

Roman sits across from her, staring almost. “God, you are breathtaking.”

It’s hard not to look away when God Himself bestows such a compliment. “Thank you.” And she means it, something warm and almost comforting brewing in her belly, replacing the abundance of nerves. “You—you look handsome.”

He always looks handsome though.

And judging by the smirk on his face, he knows it. “Thank you.” His gaze is studying, as he admits, “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

Curious, she asks, “what would have happened if I didn’t?”

His smile is cheeky. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

She does. Solana knows this man would welcome himself into her home once more. Into her bedroom. And potentially, into her.

Thus, her showing up tonight truly was for the best, and the more she sits across from him, dialogue easy amongst them, something tells it was also the right thing to do.

Solana glances around, suddenly unnerved by him looking at her so much. It’s equally unsettling as it is flattering. “This is beautiful. You—you rented it out for us for tonight?”

He smiles again, but it’s more amusing than anything. “I own it.”

Her eyes widen. “You own it?”

“Bought it for tonight,” he answers, making her eyes widen even more as he reaches for the bottle of wine, popping it open and starting to pour some in her glass followed by his.

“Wait, you bought a yacht for our date?” Even saying it aloud sounds ludicrous. “An actual yacht?”

“Pretty sure I answered that already.”

“Roman, that’s…..” She trails off, unsure just what to say and make of that. “We—we could have went to a restaurant or something.” Solana would have preferred that over him spending an obscene amount of money for just one night.

He shrugs. “You said you wanted something private.”

“Restaurants have private rooms, Roman.”

His voice is dangerously calm and smooth. “But not a private bedroom.”

Oh, Jesus.

Solana shifts in her chair, looking away as he chuckles. “Are you always this wound up?”

“I’m not wound up” she replies, feeling an unfamiliar amount of defensiveness. “It’s just….you’re very bold.” And, you don’t take no for an answer.

“I see something I want, and I go for it.” Is his simple reply as he picks invisible lint off his shirt. “That’s extended to people as well.”

Solana doesn’t doubt that one bit.

Eager for a changing of subjects, she’s about to inquire about when the waiter—or whomever—will arrive when he takes her for yet another loop. “So, I was looking at your Instagram—”

“My Instagram?” She doesn’t mean to interrupt, but it’s hard not to. “H—how?” A valid question considering her page is private, and it’s been a couple weeks since she accepted any follow requests.

“I told you already. When I want something, I get it.” His answer objectively makes no sense but somehow answers her question. “I didn’t read your bio. Just looked at your pictures.”

Swallowing, she finds herself asking, curious almost, “and?”

His brow lifts, matching her curiosity. “And?”

Unsure why she's suddenly so nervous, Solana clears her throat, asking, “what did you think?”

The delay with his answer is the farthest thing from helpful with her anxiety. “I think there’s a lot more to you, Solana Miller, than I initially realized.”

Another almost vague answer that has her sitting forward in her seat, asking almost desperately, “is—is that a good or bad thing?”

The smile returns, and for the first time tonight, it doesn’t seem or even feel like there’s something underneath it. Just a genuine, authentic smile.

“Tell me the more, and I’ll let you know.”

Solana chews on the inside of her cheek, not wanting to mess up her lipstick by biting down on her bottom lip. "What do you want to know?"

His answer is instantaneous this round. "Everything."

It’s such a broad response, and off the top of her head, Solana is struggling to recall her posts. She’s shared photos of herself, obviously. Photos with friends and family. Photos of her bookstore and hobbies that include cooking, books, bible journaling, and even her horse, Rainbow.

But, all of that seems too much to dump on a man for the first date.

Maybe the last.

Thus, her settling on sticking with the major things.

"There's not much to me,” she answers with a shrug, taking a sip of her champagne before continuing. “I'm....I'm an RN, but I've been on sabbatical for almost two years now. I—" There's a type of sadness that bleeds into her voice. "I was working in the ER, but the things I saw...." She shakes her head. "I just needed a break, needed to not be surrounded by so much death.” An honest, truthful, almost vulnerable thing she’s grateful Roman doesn’t press her on despite the absolute intrigue in his expression as she shares pieces of herself.

A small smile falling on her face, she continues. “I've always found an escape in books and writing. Another passion I share with my mom, and we opened the bookstore and that....that's been it."

She’s not sure what she expected him to follow up with, but his question certainly isn’t it. "Does she work there with you?"

Ignoring the almost warmth that fills her at such an innocent, kind question, Solana shakes her head, "No, she's a cardiologist over at Central hospital." For whatever reason, even though he most definitely did not ask, Solana finds herself providing additional, unasked information, "she was a nurse back in Mexico, but when she married my dad and moved to the states, she went back to school and got her MD."

He sits forward, elbows on the table. "Did you ever want to do the same? Be a doctor?"

"I did, but...." Solana leans back in her seat, shrugging. "I was a gifted kid. I did all honors classes and a running start program, so when I graduated at 18, I already had my associates and was only in undergrad for 2 years. Did an accelerated program to get my RN, and by 20, I just felt burnt out from it all. I needed a break from school. Then I needed a break from nursing, and now I'm just....trying to enjoy the quiet."

An ironic thing considering there's nothing quiet about the man sitting across from her.

It’s what causes her to ask, voice soft, "Roman....what do you want from me?"

Because this can’t keep going on without her knowing just where they’re going. She needs some guidance, some insight into where his head is. Outside of the sexual aspect of this all.

That part is very clear.

Roman seems to really sit and mull over her question, his handsome face shifting into something serious and genuine. "Not sure, but I'm intrigued by you, and that doesn't happen. Ever. So, I want to see where this goes."

It’s an answer, so she can respect that much. But, the fact that specificity is lacking in his response bothers her. What about her intrigues him? Is it the fact that he’s been able to initiate some type of intimacy both times they’ve been alone? Does she seem easy to him? Because, if that’s the case, the line in the sand needs to be drawn here and now.

“Roman.” Solana is the one to take her time in figuring just how to word this. "You should know that I—I meant it when I said I'm not like that. I don't—I don't sleep around." Or at all, but he doesn't need to know that. Something tells her Roman knowing she's a virgin will only increase whatever interest he has in her. And, not in a good way. "I don't—”

His response arrives right away. “I know you don’t, and if that was what I was wanting, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now.” Something tells her he’s being honest. If actual, full on sex is what he was after, he certainly wouldn’t be with her right now.

And it’s his honesty that creates that bridge for her. “Roman, I know we’ve….done things.” More him doing all the things to her. “But, I mean it. I—I don’t want to have sex with you.” And before he can press her, inquire just what and why, she explains, “sex means something to me. It’s not just a thing you do. It’s a bond and connection, and I only want that with someone I have a bond and connection with.” And, I don’t with you.

Might not ever.

“I’m fine with….other things.” She doesn’t feel the need to elaborate on that. He should know exactly what the ‘other things’ are. “But….penetration is where I draw the line.” And just where the next quiet part comes from, she hasn’t the slightest clue. But, she says it, and she says it loud enough for him to hear, whether intentional or not. “For now.”

It’s a stupid additive. One that makes his brow lift and Solana swallow. If she didn’t give up her virginity to her fiancé of all people, what chance does Roman have? It doesn’t even make any sense. He’s the last person she can see herself going that far with.

“For now….” And of course he settles on that part. Solana hates herself right about now. “I don’t really agree with you. On sex, I mean. We clearly have very different views on that, but regardless, I respect it. I will respect it.”

Oh.

That….that’s not exactly what she was expecting.

At all.

“So what…what does that mean?”

Because now she’s even more confused than before. Because she was convinced the minute she made it clear she has no intentions on sleeping with Roman tonight, or any other night, he’d shut the shit down. Would pull away.

That’s clearly not what's happening though.

Roman’s answer is clear, concise, and assertive. “It means that doesn’t change what I said earlier.” He reaches his hand across the table, turning hers over, fingers tracing her palm. “I’m still intrigued and still want to see where this goes.”

Solana is quiet, sitting on each word that leaves his mouth, trying her best to process it. All of it.

What the hell is even going on? How did she end up in this position? Roman represents everything she hates about the world she was born into. People like him are the reason she’s done her best to stay away and keep her distance.

And now, as Rhea pointed out, she’s playing with the fire God himself.

Yet there’s been zero effort on her part to extinguish the flames.

Even as they threaten to lap and consume her.

—--------

For all intents and purposes, dinner is enjoyable and not just the meal itself. Conversation between herself and the Head of the Table is normal, casual, their banter almost something natural and organic.

And she finds herself just as interested in him as he is in her. Finds herself asking more questions about him, wanting to know more about the man who seems to not exactly be what she always thought him to be.

Like the fact that he can cook. Or rather, claims that he can. Or that he makes an effort every Sunday to watch football with his cousins, his “best friends” as he calls them. Or even his interest in photography he shares with her, even a couple photos from his phone.

And with each tidbit shared, the normalization deepens. Roman feels less and less like a thing and more and more like a person.

The staff have just cleared the tables, Solana wiping her mouth when he asks, “where do you want to go for the next date?”

For the twentieth time tonight, she’s taken off guard. “Next date?” The small smile on her face betrays her as she teases him almost, “who said I agreed to one?”

Roman chuckles, once again reaching for her hand, holding it this time. “You did the second you stepped foot on this boat.” Her stomach drops, chest tightening for reasons unknown. “Agreed to this.”

Her heartbeat is in the danger zone as she asks in a low voice, “and what is this?”

He doesn’t skip a beat or take his eyes off her, answering so confidently, “us.”

Solana is a mess. What the hell has she gotten herself into?

Shifting, she moves into a new space of trying to set more ground rules with the man who has her questioning almost everything she thought she knew about herself. “Roman, there’s no—”

“Come here.”

Two words. So simple. Also challenging.

“Roman….”

He sits back in his chair, legs spreading just enough. “Solana, come here.”

Here would be his lap. Here would be a place that she absolutely should not be. But, it’s also the exact place she finds herself moving towards. Barely in front of him, Roman doesn’t hesitate to yank her down on his lap. She’s sideways, face angled down at him, hands on his shoulders.

"Let me help you understand." Roman’s fingers dance up the spine of her back, adjusting her position on his lap, Solana having to ignore the sizable bulge underneath pressing into her ass.

Why is he hard?

An unspoken question that’s drowned out by the alluring sound of his deep voice. "You're with me now. That means if someone looks at you, I'll kill them." His hand eventually moves to the side of her breast, applying just the lightest pressure, but enough to have her squeezing his thigh. "If they breathe too hard around you, I'll kill them." Solana has to bite on her bottom lip to retain what's bound to be a moan when he slides his hand to the front of her body, fingertips massaging her exposed skin through the cutouts of her skimpy dress. "And if they try to fucking touch you, they'll wish I had killed them when all is said and done."

Completely stunned, she isn’t sure how to respond to that. Isn't sure what to say. Her response is truly something that spills out her mouth….”you’re crazy.”

Roman, however, just chuckles. “I’ve been called much worse, sweetheart.” He then sits up a bit, her eyes closing as he ghosts his lips over her shoulder. “Regardless, you still came tonight, stayed, and now you’re sitting on my lap. You know why?” Solana gasps when he moves his hand between her legs. “Because you like this shit. You like how I make you feel. All flustered and discombobulated.” She swallows, and he hums against her, asking, “wanna know how I know?” He easily slides his fingers past her soaked panties, grazing her wet pussy lips and lifting his hand to show her the proof of her body betraying her.

Roman presents the undeniable evidence. “This is how.” And if the situation wasn’t already erotic enough, Solana can barely contain herself on his lap when he sticks his fingers in his mouth, sucking each off.

Her stomach is caving and twisting and doing all sorts of things. “Roman…”

This. All of this is the exact reason why Solana has wanted to stay far away from this life. Has wanted nothing to do with the mafia world. The violence. The carnage. The mayhem. And yet, her thighs press together at Roman's oath and his carnal act for reasons she can't decipher.

His gaze drops to her legs, and she curses inwardly. Once again, her reaction to him is out and in the open.

Roman smirks. "You're touch deprived...." His assessment is embarrassingly accurate. It's gross how Roman's inherently innocent touches seem to evoke more from her than her hand ever could. "I can't wait to fix that."

Solana swallows and taps into some deep rooted assertiveness as she asks, "what about you?"

Roman continues to lightly touch her through her dress. "What about me?"

Her stomach is doing all kinds of weird things, and her head clearly is several miles behind, because there's no logical basis for what comes out of her mouth next. "If—if I can't be with anyone else, then...then neither can you."

His eyes flicker with something akin to disapproval. “I can't fuck you, but you don’t want me fucking anyone else?” He makes a sound, finger moving circles around her thigh. “Doesn’t seem very fair now, does it?”

On one hand it doesn’t, but on the other, it makes sense to her. “You say…you say you want to get to know me, to see where this goes, well that’s….that’s my stipulation.” The only one she’s really set throughout this whole thing that probably shouldn’t even be a thing in the first place.

Roman is quiet for another good minute, finally answering. “Fine.” It’s painfully obvious he’s not excited about this caveat, but he agrees, nonetheless. “But, I meant what I said.” His voice and gaze darken again. “No one touches you but me.” His hand lifts to her neck, grasping just enough to evoke a gasp but not enough to restrict breathing. “Is that understood?”

Solana’s gaze is locked with his as she licks her lips, answering breathlessly, “yes.”

And just like that, the darkness settles into something easy. “Good,” he says it so simply, so casually, hand dropping from her neck.

Solana just looks at him.

It should be unsettling to her, at least a little, how easily he maneuvers between calm and charismatic and dark and intimidating.

But, it doesn’t.

It does a bit of the opposite.

Lord, what the hell is she getting herself into?

—-----------

After some coaxing, additional foreplay, and the reiteration of no penetration, Solana finds herself following Roman deeper into the yacht, headed toward the bedroom. The travel there is a nice distraction, Solana continuing to marvel at the luxury of it all. She wasn’t exactly raised poor, but this level of opulence is unfamiliar. But, something she most definitely could get used to.

It’s still up in the air if it’s something she should get used to though.

Finally arriving, Roman closes the door behind them and walks past her. Solana's eyes never leave him, especially when he starts to unbutton his shirt, discarding it to a nearby chair.

Her cheeks are warm and reddened watching him move onto the bed, sitting back against the headboard, legs spread just enough. She’s ready to remind him of her boundaries when he motions for her with his index finger. “Come here.”

Her chest tightens. “Roman…..”

He makes a sound. “I thought I told you I don’t like repeating myself.” He did. He most certainly did. “Come here.”

Solana swallows, partially unsure why she can’t stand her ground, can’t comprehend what causes her to pull her dress up her thighs just enough so she can crawl on the bed, over to him. Her heart races even more when he grabs her, positions her between his legs, back against his firm chest.

His lips hover against her temple. “Good girl.”

Her eyes shut, that racing heart of hers nearing dangerous territories. “Roman, wh—what—”

“Touch yourself.”

Solana’s eyes shoot open.

What did he just say?

And, she goes to express as such, “what do you—”

He moves his hands to her dress, dragging it up higher until her black thong is exposed. “I want you to show me how you touched yourself when I left that night.”

Immediate goosebumps sprout all over her damn body, her mouth dry, her brain struggling to process all of this. “Roman….”

“Because you did, didn’t you?” His taunts are accompanied by his hand slipping under the waistband of her thong, snapping it against her skin. “You fucked yourself thinking of daddy, didn’t you?”

Solana swallows, unable to answer. Horrified at just how he knows this. How he knows she most definitely laid up in her bed, using her hand and vibrator after he left her so flustered and needing a release.

Something freezes her more when an equally terrifying and erotic thought crosses her mind. Was he watching her?

“Roman, were you—” She’s silenced by his fingers dancing along her mons pubis, continuing to taunt and tease her, eager for compliance with his task.

“Shhh.” His lips are moving along the perimeter of her face as he travels his hand from downward to upward, palming her breast. “Too much talking.” She chews down on her bottom lip when his thumb flicks her pebbled nipple. Damn her for forgoing a bra. “Daddy’s ready to watch.”

It’s crazy. All of it. All of this. All of him. Solana should be running for the hills, should be seeing what resources she can utilize to disappear for a little while, just long enough for this infatuation he has with her to fizzle out.

But, that’s not what happens. What happens is quite the opposite. Lifting her lower half, she slides her thong down her legs, lightly tossing it on the other side of the bed, thus leaving her bare and exposed.

In more ways than one.

Almost nervously, her hand travels to that special space between her legs, a small moan leaving her mouth when she realizes just how wet she already is.

It’s not normal how aroused this man can make her with just words and light touches.

Three fingers gliding up her vagina evoke another moan from her and an almost grunt from the man behind her.

“Look how wet you are.” His voice is something of awe and intrigue, Solana moving her fingers back to her pussy, gathering more of her essence. “Just for me. Always for me.”

Her breath is ragged as she starts playing with herself, eyes closing, thinking back to that night. Thinking back to how good his fingers felt inside of her, working her in a way no man ever has.

Solana spreads her thighs, giving her more access to her swollen throbbing clit. “Oh, fuck….”

“That’s it,” he murmurs against her skin, slipping his hand into her dress, palming her breast. “Work yourself, baby. Show me how you take care of yourself when daddy’s not around.”

Solana’s head is thrown back against his chest as she moves her fingers from her clit, to her sticky, gushy opening. In and out, she thrusts her fingers in, all the while imagining it’s someone else touching her. Someone else making her thrash and moan the way she is.

And that someone else is the man behind her, the man whose name she finds herself moaning, “Roman…..”

“Hmmm.” Stll, that damn teasing voice of his, deep, baritone, and already knowing. “What do you need, sweetheart? Tell Daddy what his good girl needs.”

Oh, she hates him. Hates the way her pussy flutters every time he refers to himself as daddy. How her body responds in a way that defies all logic.

Same as her response.

“Touch me.” It’s embarrassing how needy and wanton she sounds in this moment, the way she nearly begs him, her other hand going to his thigh.

Solana would give anything to see whatever nonverbal response he has at this request. Something smug, no doubt. All knowing. Because there’s no way he can be surprised at such a plea with this situation they're in, how she’s finger fucking herself, leaned up against his chest, his big hands groping and feeling all on her titties.

The erotic of it all almost calls for his participation.

And his participation is exactly what happens.

“Oh my God,” Solana nearly jumps off the bed when Roman’s hand is over hers, his thick fingers gently moving hers to the side, the pad of his thumb hovering over her clit, two other fingers dipping inside her. “Shit, don’t stop.”

His deep voice chuckling against her nearly rocks her to her core. “Oh, I don’t plan to.”

Solana’s body moves in sync with his hand as he works her, so good, oh so good. Solana is a whimpering mess, her hand now on top of his, unable to move away, unable to do anything but sink into this all consuming hole of pleasure. “Yes. Oh my—just like that.”

“Look how needy you are. Fucking my hand like this.” His voice is deep, primal, laden with passion and sensuality that matches hers. “Do you have any idea how I’m going to ruin you?”

Yes. Yes, she absolutely does, because he already has. Just from his hand and mouth.

Roman’s ministrations are nearing the point of too much, Solana’s release right around the corner, something the man bringing her to heaven is clearly very privy to.

He practically growls, asking, “you gonna come all over daddy’s hand? Hmm?”

“Yes,” she whimpers, eyes clamped shut, hand moving to his wrist, squeezing when he quickens and intensifies his actions. “God, I’m gonna—ohhh.” She’s cut off by the orgasm that wrecks her body, her drenched cunt throbbing, body jerking against him, flashing, blinding white lights against her closed lids.

And minutes later, she’s limp, slightly panting, still holding onto him, still trying to settle herself.

Never has she come as hard as the man before her makes her come. It’s….overwhelming. In all of the right ways.

“You don’t think we’re done, do you?”

It’s that question that makes her eyes shoot open. What did he just say?

But before Solana can process anything, Roman is moving them, switching around their positions, and it’s when he goes to lift her, she realizes just what position he’s putting them in.

Trepidation consumes her. “Roman, I can’t—”

“I’ve been thinking about eating you out all day,” he groans. Solana hates how easy and natural it is for him to say and admit to the most filthiest things. “Come sit on daddy’s face, so I can suck that sweet pussy.”

And that’s exactly what he’s doing, positioning her, hiking her dress up even higher, holding it scrunched at her waist. “Roman—”

“Stop talking,” he murmurs, Solana finally straddling his face, her hands gripping the headboard. Roman’s eyes are entranced by the sight of her pussy, so wet and pretty, dripping and needing him. “Come here….”

“Roman!” She gasps, when his strong hands tug her down, his mouth completely covering her, his tongue thrusted inside her tight hole. “Oh shit.” Solana’s head falls against her forearm that’s across the headboard. She’s seen this position in porn, has heard her friends talk about it, but no one told her it felt this damn good.

And maybe it’s less the position and more the man.

Roman’s moan underneath her as he eats her out, feasting on her pussy like it’s his first meal of the day, seems to lean on the side of less the position and all the man.

There’s no concern in the world about suffocating him or too much of her weight bearing down on him when Roman’s grip on her thighs tighten as he pulls her even closer, his tongue circling around her engorged clit.

“God, it feels so good,” she moans, one hand reaching for her breast as she plays with her nipples, grinding down on his face. “Daddy….”

Roman’s groan underneath her is loud and unmistakable along with the way his left hand moves to her ass, giving a slap that echoes through the room and evokes another moan from her.

She’s not entirely sure what stamina is required for eating pussy, at least the way Roman does, but his seems above average. Because Solana is propped up on his face so long that she feels her thighs begin to cramp and tense, resulting in her sinking down farther on him. And for a brief second, she feels bad, worries that her weight is too much. But, it’s quickly shoved to the side when he once again tugs down on her, welcoming it, welcoming and wanting her cunt to completely suffocate him.

A torture he seems to be deeply enjoying.

It takes some time, what feels like hours, hours that are filled with nothing but pleasure and ecstasy, before Solana’s orgasm overtakes her. And once again, she’s a whining, moaning, writhing mess, coming all over his face and in his mouth. It’s too much, overstimulating in every sense. So much so that it’s Roman who has to carefully lift her from off his face. He moves her down so she’s straddling his lap, her hands going to his shoulders, head in the crook of his neck as she tries to settle herself.

And, it’s not helped by the massive bulge she feels pressing up against her ass.

Roman kisses her temple, applauding her, “such a good girl for me.” She feels it, every bit of it, even if nothing about this whole thing is good. The pleasure she’s getting out of it certainly is. “Look how you came for Daddy.”

And came she did, Solana can feel his damp beard scraping against her cheek, no doubt her essence being the cause of it. It’s better to focus on that feeling and sensation vs the strange sense of pride and accomplishment she feels at being his good girl.

It's just all so confusing.

She doesn’t know how to feel about this, about a lot of what’s happened since meeting a certain Roman Reigns. Or the way he just holds her, the way she holds onto him despite being fully descended from her orgasmic haze.

One thing’s for certain.

If Solana is in fact dancing with the devil, right now, in this moment, her only hope is that it’s a song that doesn’t end anytime soon.

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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dixons-sunshine · 6 months ago

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Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU Headcannons Part 5 | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word count: 592.

A/n: Focusing back on them before the apocalypse for now. And the last part personally had me giggling. Kids, huh? Anyways, I hope you like this!

Specially dedicated to my biggest supporter on this au, @ddamm.

★ Daryl bought his own motorcycle shortly after the two of you moved into your final apartment.

★ He had spent years saving up for it, even hesitantly accepting any money you wanted to add to the savings for his motorcycle.

★ He was hesitant to take your money because he felt bad. He didn't want you to “waste” money on him, money that you could use to buy yourself something nice.

★ However, you were adamant, and your contribution to the savings helped him immensely.

★ The day he bought his own motorcycle, he was ecstatic. It wasn't anything fancy, but he loved it, and therefore, you loved it as well.

★ You'd been with him for over a decade at that point. You knew practically all the lore surrounding the motorcycling community. Daryl took great pleasure in teaching you everything he knew.

★ It made Daryl happy to know that you took interest in something he liked. He could go on for hours about motorcycles and you wouldn't mind. You'd actively ask questions and ask him to explain something you didn't understand.

★ Daryl was even teaching you how to ride one. It wasn't quite like teaching you how to ride a bicycle, like you had joked when he had suggested teaching you how to ride a motorcycle, but you got better with time.

★ Soon, you were able to ride one on your own, though you still preferred to have the professional—Daryl—ride it instead with you on the back, holding on to him.

★ Going away from motorcycles for a bit, Daryl was also the one that taught you how to drive a car.

★ Merle had essentially given his truck to Daryl way back when, and the old thing surprisingly still worked years later, all the way to the start of the apocalypse.

★ That was the first thing—apart from a bicycle—you ever learned to drive.

★ When Daryl bought his motorcycle, he basically gave you the truck to go to and from work, the supermarket, basically anywhere you wanted to go.

★ During the earlier stages before he bought the motorcycle, he'd go and pick you up from work with his truck.

★ He once picked you up a bit later than usual due to the field trip you had taken your class on, and when you had gotten off the bus to greet him with a cheek kiss, the kids all collectively commented on it, eliciting chuckles from you and your husband.

★ “Ew.”

★ That's also how your class had gotten introduced to your husband. After that, they never stopped asking about him.

★ “Mrs Dixon, how'd you meet Mr Dixon?”

“Mrs Dixon, have you and Mr Dixon ever kissed with your mouths like my mommy and daddy?”

“Mrs Dixon, do you love Mr Dixon?”

★ You had also once gotten a question from one of the kids that had you choking and blushing.

★ “Mrs Dixon, do you and Mr Dixon play with your clothes off?”

★ You changed that topic of discussion very quickly. Nope, you weren't gonna teach a bunch of five year olds about sex.

★ It did make for some good comedy when you got back home. Well, for Daryl at least. When you told him about that, he couldn't stop laughing. He found the question hilarious.

★ “Well, what'd ya tell him?”

“I didn't say anything. I changed the topic.”

“Ya could've said yes. We do “play with our clothes off” a bunch'a times.”

“Daryl, I'm not gonna say that! Do you know how many parents would be plotting my murder?”

“I know. M'jus' messin' with ya, Darlin'.”

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lilghostiequinni · 8 months ago

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Before

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Verstappen!female oc x Lando Norris

Warnings: None really, Fluffy(to me)

Part Summary: Before the people suspect anything, it was really what they wanted more than anything else. Wanted when life wasn't busy for either of them. Because when they first met their lives were hectic, but at least they had gotten each other out of it.

Prologue of the Wasn't Always series; prev. part & next part

Requested: NO / yes

A/N: This is essentially the prologue to the actual series and can be read as a stand-alone. There is no need to read this to understand the series.

2019 Australian Grand Prix

"Oscar, I can't be here. I'm supposed to be getting ready to leave." Kaarina said to her best friend as he basically begged her to go with him to the 2019 Australian Grand Prix.

"Come on. Please, Mom says if you go, I can." Oscar tries to convince her.

"No, she didn't. Your mom wouldn't care 'cause she knows where you are if you did go and if anything, she would be worried about you getting in the suitcase of a driver." Kaarina says with a look of suspicion on her face as she analyzes the younger boy.

"Please, you don't have to leave until Monday; it's only Friday," Oscar begged even more, and for the first showing her the passes he had gotten.

Kaarina looked at the passes and then at the excited Aussie, "Max put you up to this, didn't he?"

Oscar froze and that was all the answer that Kaarina needed as she nodded.

"Of course, he gave you passes on the condition of getting me there." It wasn't a question, but Oscar nodded.

"Fine, which team are you supporting? I'll play fake girlfriend for your real girlfriend because Max definitely only gave you two passes." Kaarina told as Lily walked into the room.

Oscar's eyes got wide as he realized the truth of the matter: he only had two passes, and Max didn't give him a third.

Lily chuckled, just hearing the end of what Kaarina said and then the look in her boyfriend's eyes and the apologetic look he got when he saw her.

"It's okay; Kaarina will take care of you; she does it any other time. I don't want to go, but you do." Lily says as she kisses Oscar's cheek and lets out a relieved sigh.

Kaarina chuckles at the two; while she is a couple years older than both of them, she is still really good friends with the two as she and Oscar met when she lived in Australia because their parents knew each other.

"You know, sometimes, I feel that it's not my best friend and my girlfriend, but my girlfriend and my girlfriend's girlfriend," Oscar says as he looks at the two in front of him.

The two just chuckle at him, making Oscar roll his eyes.

"Which team are we supporting, you teit?" Kaarina asks between the chuckles and giggles.

"McLaren." Oscar dead-pans as he looks between the two, and Kaarina nods.

Kaarina went to change out of the comfy clothes she had on just as Lily started speaking, "You know that is basically your girlfriend when I'm not around, to make sure everyone knows you're taken and mine."

"I am, but there is no need for that." Oscar points out.

"Nope, you can't convince me otherwise. Rina is the stand-in girlfriend when I'm not around. Just know that it's the same when you aren't around when we go shopping." Lily tells him before following Kaarina, and Oscar just looks after his girlfriend in confusion.

"So what was it my brother told you that you agreed to force me along to the race? Because I know it wasn't just the passes," Kaarina says as she walks next to Oscar in the paddock area, making their way around.

"He told me I could support any team; it didn't have to be Red Bull," Oscar said, then he looked over to his best friend, who had a very unimpressed look on her face, knowing that it was more than just that. "He also said he would get me to the next three races I was at, no matter how short the notice."

Kaarina just rolled her eyes.

"I still think you should have changed before we left," Oscar states.

"Why? What's wrong with my outfit? You said, McLaren," Kaarina says as she looks down at her outfit.

"Yes, but did you really have to put on the Max Verstappen Air Forces?" Oscar points out, looking at her shoes.

"Hey, I will support McLaren, but also my brother," Kaarina says as she pokes Oscar in the arm.

"Isn't Carlos McLaren?" Oscar asks her, even though he knows the answer.

"Yes, my cousin is in McLaren, and he understands; also, I am supporting him," Kaarina pulls up her sleeve and shows the beaded bracelets that she has either stolen or gotten from her brother and cousins to hold and just never given them back.

"Did you steal all of those?" Oscar accuses as they get nearer to the McLaren paddock which has the Red Bull paddock rather close.

"No, the three gave me a couple and just never asked for them back. Also, I bought like three," Kaarina answers a little defensively.

Oscar just shakes his head at her as he sees Max waiting rather close to McLaren for what is assumed as his sister.

"Wait here?" Kaarina asks as she sees her brother; Oscar nods and waits for Kaarina to get done talking to her brother.

"How come he can get you to come but not me?" Max questions as he catches his sister in a hug.

"Because he was bribed and really wanted to come, and no one else really did. Also, he can be very convincing when he wants to be," Kaarina says to her brother as she pulls away from him.

Max nods and then looks at his sister's outfit.

"You told him any team, and he chose McLaren. But I am supporting you," Kaarina said when she saw the expression that briefly crossed his face and then showed him her shoes.

Max chuckled at her again and just kissed her forehead as he saw his engineer wave him over, "See you later?"

"Yeah, I'll be here," Kaarina said, wishing he brother luck with a kiss on the cheek before returning to Oscar, who was joined by Carlos.

"Carlos," Kaarina acknowledges him and gives him a hug.

"Ah, McLaren today, yes?" He says, seeing the outfit she was wearing.

"Don't let the sweater fool you, Carlos; she has 33 Verstappen shoes on," Oscar points out to the Spaniard.

"That is okay, no one really looks at shoes," Carlos counters, making the blonde chuckle at her cousin.

Oscar rolls his eyes as he sees something making the Australian walk away from the two with a little pat on the shoulder to Kaarina as he walks that way.

"So, how's the new teammate?" Kaarina asks her cousin as she watches the Piastri boy walk off.

"So far, he has potential," Carlos says with a thoughtful expression.

Kaarina nods, she sees Carlos being waved to and points it out to him.

"Come," Carlos simply says as he makes his way over to the waving person.

"Lando, this is Kaarina Verstappen, Kaarina this is Lando Norris, the new driver," Carlos introduces the two.

"Like Max Verstappen?" Is all Lando can come up with and is cursing himself out in his head, 'That's it "like Max" really Norris.'

"Exactly, I'm his half-sister. We have different mothers," Kaarina tells him, as she holds her hand out to the newest driver.

Lando takes her hand and shakes it as Carlos starts talking again. After the two let go, Lando still doesn't let go of her hand.

"Don't you two share a birthday?" Carlos asked, but it was as though he just randomly, as the quiet settled in between the three, breaking the eye contract which was held by the younger two.

"We do?" Kaarina questioned, a puzzled look crossing her face as she looked away from Lando to her cousin.

Lando also looked away from the woman to Carlos, "What do you mean?"

"You were both born on November 13th, no?" Carlos asks, looking at the two, having no idea that they were not paying attention to what he was previously saying to them as they walked to and partially through the McLaren garage.

"Really? You were born on November 13th?" Kaarina asked with a smile spreading across her face as she watched Lando.

"Yeah, 1999," Lando says as Kaarina's smile gets bigger, making the British man smile, too, as he blushes at seeing the woman smile.

"Me too! Birthday buddies," Kaarina smiles even wider.

Lando smiles at her smiling face as Carlos closely watches to two who seem to have a staring problem.

"Oh, um... Carlos, Lando, I have to go. Time to see the other cousin, but I will be back," Kaarina kisses Carlos's cheek and gives Lando a side hug as she walks out of the McLaren paddock to the Ferrari one.

"You know she didn't have a boyfriend last I knew, but I would check with her friend, Oscar, or her brother, Max. But I guess you just have to ask," Carlos pats Lando on the back before going over to some fans he saw.

Leaving Lando alone to his thoughts.

Kaarina sat with Oscar as she watched the race, as always rooting for her brother or cousins, but now also rooting for the newcomer Lando Norris.

Her mind was distracted by the color of his eyes and the beauty of his smile. He just wouldn't leave her brain or thoughts.

A classic, he fell first and she fell harder.

Again, this, too, was mostly done before I accidentally posted it, twice. I'm just going to accept that I don't like how I end my posts because I'm not entirely happy with it, but I also think it makes sense for how I wanted it to go and how I want the series to go, but this doesn't need to be read to understand the full relationship in the series.

Tags: @samantha-chicago @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you.

#wasn't always #ln4 #lando norris #formula 1 #f1 #mclaren #mclaren f1 #lando norris x reader #lando imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #f1 2024

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barnesbabee · 2 years ago

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[D]egradation || OT8

[ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴇɴᴄʏᴄʟᴏᴘᴇᴅɪᴀ - ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ D]

Summary: You find out your friends that you always thought saw you as "one of the boys" didn't exactly see you like that.

Pairing: OT8 x female!reader

Words: this is like the 3rd orgy that I write, you'd think I had one in the past but I have not

Genre: Smut

tags: @woosanbby @hwalysm

⚠️If you need warnings don't read my stuff you never know⚠️

You, Yunho, Mingi, and Jongho had been friends forever. You met as kids because you lived near each other and grew up together. The four of you were inseparable, and the thought of growing up and being sexually attracted to each other wasn't a problem because they made sure to specify to all of the partners that came and went that they did not see you as a girl when it came to the way you behaved with each other. And while that was fine with you for the most part, you did wish they saw you as a woman, because getting tackled by men who grew up to be almost 2 meters tall wasn't a fun time.

In high school, five other boys joined your group: Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yeosang, Wooyoung, and San. They were incredible people, all different but you loved them all, and you enjoyed the time you spent together.

However, the recent additions caused a huge fight. You felt comfortable around the eight boys in general, but you didn't feel as comfortable as you did with Yunho, Mingi, and Jongho. You felt a little self-conscious when you all hung out and acted like one of them: play fighting, taking off whatever piece of clothing you were uncomfortable in, sleeping together when there were sleepovers, sharing intimate or private stuff that was on your mind... Nonetheless doing these things with guys you weren't well acquainted with was awkward. Sure, you had walked bare-assed in front of Yunho, Mingi, and Jongho, but that was just another Saturday for you.

The awkwardness and discomfort lead you to find some different friends, a group of girls that welcomed you when they saw you walking home alone after you had told the boys that you wouldn't be meeting them at Hongjoong's house that night. The original three boys you grew up with were beyond upset. They felt like they were being replaced, they missed you and they didn't understand why you were quietly drifting away. They didn't understand why you were choosing these girls you barely knew over lifelong friends... Was it because they were guys? Was the problem that unsolvable? Had they just lost you forever?

It wasn't until Yunho snapped one day and cry-yelled at you that you explained (in front of the whole group) that you didn't feel as comfortable with the eight of them as you did with the original three boys and it made it impossible to hang out altogether because it felt like there was a certain barrier.

"Y/N, I'm sorry I know this is between the four of you but I think I speak for the rest of us when I say that we all have different boundaries... San and Wooyoung are always on each other, cuddling and being mushy but Jongho clearly doesn't like that so they don't include him. Baby steps, Y/N, we're not all the same and enjoy being with you, we can compromise certain things to make you more comfortable... Until we all become closer, that is." Seonghwa, the voice of reason since day one, said, mid-fight.

That night you all got drunk and Yunho cried in your arms because he had missed you so much and then threatened to punch you the very next day if you ever brought up that moment.

Years passed and indeed you began feeling more comfortable around everyone else, and the boys you grew up with understood that although they saw you as an equal, they had to be careful 'cause they were a lot stronger.

Unbeknownst to you, you started becoming a real tease to them as time went by. Wearing their t-shirts, that were big enough to cover most of the "essentials" but still left some of your ass hanging out, whenever your nipples were visible through your shirts, when they could feel your tits press against them...

One particular summer day you were all hanging out, you were wearing one of Seonghwa's shirts and just trying to make a bowl of cereal. Mingi was sitting on the counter, already eating, while you struggled to get to the cereal on the top shelf. Your shirt was rising higher than usual, and Mingi could see your panties, the way they shaped your body, and the way your ass jiggled when you went from tippy toes to standing normally as you reached for the food.

"What are you looking at!?" You had asked.

Mingi then realized he was staring, and he realized what he was thinking of: grabbing your hair, bending you over right there, and fuck the innocence out of you.

"You just look particularly stupid today." He replied, trying his best to give a shitty excuse and not give in to his thoughts. Thankfully he always had good insults on his sleeve.

The staring was becoming increasingly common, and sometimes you caught them but never thought much of it: it had been so long since you'd been hanging out, surely one of them would've made a move if they were interested.

It wasn't until Yunho, fueled by the dirty thoughts in his head, straight up told you that you realized it and put the pieces together.

You were all hanging out in his living room, some watching TV, some gossiping, and some just on their phones. You were sitting beside Yunho, your naked legs on his lap. You weren't paying a lot of attention to him, you were listening to San gossip, until his hands separated your thighs. It was a little nudge, but it was enough to make you extremely aware of his touch.

Yunho felt a fire inside like he couldn't control himself anymore. He had seen you so many times but for some reason that day, he needed you. Your thighs on top of him, your shirt falling just in the right place to tease him, almost exposing your underwear but not giving him a peek of anything, the way you seemed to remain so innocent about everyone's intentions, his hands so, so close... Yunho couldn't help it.

After parting your things his hand slightly gripped the inside of the thigh closest to him. You felt something on the bottom of your stomach, it felt... nice. You didn't stop Yunho. His hand became a little braver, getting further and further up your leg.

Just before he could get to your pussy you gripped his wrist.

"Yunho, what are you doing?"

The question had a million meanings. You wanted to know what he was doing, where he wanted to get at, why he was doing it, why was he doing it in front of everyone...

Obviously what you said attracted all eyes in the room. Yunho gripped your thigh as if punishing you for alerting everyone else.

"Come on, don't act like you don't know that everyone in this room wants to fuck you." Yunho said, brushing your hair with one hand, contradicting the gripping of your thigh with a sweet act.

The room fell silent. The only thing that could be heard were the voices from the TV, and everyone had an undecipherable look on their face.

"What?" Was all you could say.

"I'm saying," Yunho paused and gripped your jaw, forcing you to look around the room "all of us want to fuck you. All of us."

You scoffed, surely he was taking the piss.

"Come on Yunho, stop joking."

He wrapped his large hands around your waist, picked you up, and put you down on his lap. Yunho rolled his hips up, so you could feel his hard cock.

"Does that feel like a joke?" He whispered in your ear.

"N-no..."

For the first time ever you were speechless around them. Your thighs were pressed together, you felt hot, and couldn't look anyone in the eye.

"Is... Is what he said true?" You asked, still unable to look at anyone.

Yeosang, that had been sitting beside you, grabbed your chin and made you look at him.

"Everyone in this room wants to use you like the whore we know you are."

While you were looking at Yeosang, you felt a pair of hands grab your thighs. You had been pressing them together, but stopped doing so, so the person you then recognized to be Seonghwa could spread them apart.

"Can we do it?" Seonghwa asked, his hand getting closer and closer to your core.

"Yes." You spoke without thinking. You didn't consider the aftermath or any other thing, you just said what you were feeling.

Seonghwa hooked one finger on the hem of your panties and pushed them to the side. His tongue worked on your pussy as Yunho's big hands trailed up your body and played with your breasts. Yeosang kissed you and your neck roughly.

You felt exposed, you felt watched, and you loved it. You loved the attention, you loved that you couldn't even count how many hands were on you.

You moaned into the kiss you shared with Yeosang as Seonghwa inserted one finger in you and kept eating you out. Yunho pinched your nipples and you arched your back in reaction.

You heard multiple groans echo in the room coming from the other boys.

Yunho was continuously grinding on your ass, and the pressure of his cock against your ass made it impossible not to get desperate. You softly pushed Yeosang away so you could speak.

"Fuck me Yunho, please."

Seonghwa pulled away and gave Yunho space to slide you down to his knees so he could pull out his cock.

"No need to ask twice princess."

Yunho rubbed his cock a couple times before finding your entrance and slamming you down on him. He gave you a couple seconds, before he began moving you up and down. Mingi stood up and removed your shirt so everyone could see your tits bouce, before giving you a quick, rough kiss. The tall man grabbed your hand and guided it to his cock and you began jacking him off as well as possible while being fucked by Yunho, who was absolutely mesmerized by the way your ass bounced against his thighs.

Yunho's hand gripped your throat.

"Look at you getting us off like a good whore, I bet you love being passed around, hm?" Yunho asked, then biting your ear.

You moaned loudly and nodded.

"Fuck, yes- I love it."

You heard Mingi scoff from above, before gripping your chin and making you look up.

"You were right Yunho, she is a filthy whore. We should've used her earlier."

"Don't tire her, we want to fuck her too." San demanded as he jacked himself off painfully slow.

Yunho slapped your ass and picked up the pace.

"Don't worry, she can take it."

The man was holding back, wanted to enjoy the feeling of being inside you, but when he saw Mingi cum all over your chest he came as well, buried deep in you.

Immediately after, San gripped your throat and pulled you up, until you were standing.

"On your hands and knees."

You obeyed his commands and got on all fours on the ground. Wooyoung knelt in front of you, his cock in your face, and San was being you. San was the first to enter you, with a groan. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at the place where you two connected as if it was a work of art, and since you couldn't see him, you wondered if San looked as beautiful as he sounded at that moment.

Wooyoung slapped his cock against your cheek.

"Come on baby, open up."

You opened your mouth and began sucking him off as he told you, making sure to maintain eye contact as you did so. Wooyoung grabbed your hair in a makeshift ponytail, as both men found a rhythm to fuck you in.

Wooyoung's face alone was enough to make anyone want to cum: he had his eyebrows furrowed, cheeks red and mouth agape as he looked at you taking his cock. He brushed back his sweaty hair and moaned.

San switched between slapping your ass and gripping your asscheeks with his hands, absolutely loving the way they jiggled every time he trusted into you.

"I bet you love being watched and used by all of us, hm? Just like the pretty little whore you are, fuck, so, so good." San said, hissing and moaning almost after every word.

The eyes on you, the men jerking off to you being fucked, the dirty talk, and the way San was fucking you were too much to handle and you were close. You tapped Wooyoung's thigh so he'd pull out.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum-"

Hongjoong pulled San away from you and replaced his place inside you. You sat up slightly, in a way that you could jerk Wooyoung and San off but could still be fucked by Hongjoong.

"Cum on my cock, come on."

Like as if you were being commanded, you came, and Hongjoong filled you up right after, as he had been edging himself just for that moment.

Upon seeing your pleasure-filled face and hearing your moans as you came, Wooyoung spilled all over your face, followed by San who, as you guessed, looked absolutely beautiful.

Hongjoong pulled out so you could sit on the floor and finish off the last three men. You switched between jerking them off and sucking them off, ready to cum once more not long after, absolutely turned on by the view.

Seonghwa noticed the way you were grinding on the floor.

"Come ride me Y/N. Now."

You got on top on Seonghwa, and began to ride him, still jerking off the other two men. They came on your chest and face, but Seonghwa held off so you could cum again. He played with your clit and, once he felt you tightening around his cock, sat up and helped you bounce on it.

You came and he came at the same time. You were still holding onto his shoulders as you caught your breath together. He tapped your ass, wiped the cum off of your lips with his thumb, and kissed you sweetly.

"You okay?" He asked, with sparkling eyes as if he hadn't just railed you.

"I'm okay, I feel a little exposed but I'm okay."

Yunho helped you up and cleaned you up with his shirt as best as he could.

"Go on and take a shower, I'll find some spare clothes, princess." Yunho said, and kissed the top of your head.

He couldn't help but give your ass a light slap as it jiggled when you walked away, shyly covering your front.

"So is this like, gonna be a regular thing?" San asked.

"No! Weirdo!" You yelled from the other room.

Yunho looked at all his friends and then spoke.

"I got dibs on her."

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izartn · 11 months ago

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What's good about KnH is (besides its main char and bc of Maomao) the way it manages the power dynamics and what life was as a woman without falling into utter pessimism and powerlessness or full romanticism; which is a reason I usually avoid like the plague historical/pseudo-historical fiction with female leads.

Usually I'd be super skeeved out by the power Jinshi has over Maomao but the way the series presents both of them, their personalities and their agency (limited as it is for Maomao but it's there and it counts very much) it brings out all the best and interesting parts. I trust this series to get twisty with them bc it establishes so well Maomao own character and understanding of her situation and the ways Jinshi can and does or doesn't take advantage of his power over her.

Like. It's presented as a problematic element, but also unavoidable given their social situation and the world they live in, so I can trust given everything else this show has done when solving the mysteries and presenting us the situations of other women, that the romance will be treated with that same weight.

Honestly if you've read over what I like to read/watch in my tumblr you'll notice that twisty and even toxic/unhealthy dynamics are very much within my favorites, but it needs to be told in a certain way. And I'm much more difficult to satisfy when talking about het romance.

So to watch KnH, notice it's primarily about Maomao life and the various misteries/medicines/palace intrigue and the romance is playing second fiddle riffing on all the themes presented on the plot? And it's complex, and plays with messy power dynamics of gender and class, but never loses Maomao her personhood? Wow.

Also. Jinshi is so BL chara coded omg XD like, he's very clearly based on a kind of shojo ML prototype (hello tamaki suoh!) but it also pulls from BL in his case (nothing to do with their romances but I think of Yan Xiaohan re:his relationship with the imperial power, from Golden Terrace lol)

And yet his romance with Maomao wouldnt work near as well for what is trying to say if they weren't a man and woman (which I love in their case, is what has me fascinated). Yes~! Get into the meat of how fraught it is for a man and a woman to be together when the man has so much power over her. Get into it!!!!

He's so so messy and fun as a chara too. Sheltered and not at the same time, you really notice all the things he misses by way of his privilege of being a noble born man (and specifically royalty, last ep (19) left that very clear he was doing a ritual probably by proxy for the emperor and also bay exchanges people. Maomao noticed and buried that thought far far below her subconscious but we all now who he is lol). Like. The way he fumbles and ends up essentially harassing Maomao at the start sometimes, which is both played for comedic effect and also upsetting. Mmm.

Like I said, I like complexity.

Also that part when he buys Maomao contract and he goes to collect her and she's all dolled up, and the clear implication by everybody but our mains (who clearly prefer to live in willfully blind land although for Jinshi I think the subtext of what he's doing lands when he sees her) is that in any other case she'd be his concubine/side-wife. It's not their situation wight now, and she's put to work as a live-in maid and apothecary and put to study (he wants her to assist him in politics lol I love that, but also he's so so lonely) but it's very much what the palace rumor mill says.

LIKE. I love the messiness! It could go soooo badly, but it also could not and there's Maomao living at the edge bc despite herself and what she says, she wants more from life, but also as she says the rear palace isn't all that different from the high class brothels and ugh. That tension. She has to depend on the favor of a man as a women of low class but she also could lose her head! GAH. And then there's feels involved! Aaagh.

#the apothecary diaries #my thoughts #kusuriya no hitorigoto #KnH meta #meta #maomao #jinshi

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laauranenn · 21 days ago

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in wbk fandom you can't have conversation about the writing, development and complexity, this fandom is overprotective about nii's mid writing, Any comments about his flaw in writing characters or this plot will be shut down , fandom only cares about shipping and yaoi

the side characters especially umemiya are well fleshed out with detailed backstories , everything in the plot literally revolve around umemiya , the antagonists like choji and chika revolved around their obsession with ume , tsubakino and sugishita backstories included ume too ,nii is focusing on exploring umemiya and his past more than his mc Sakura

Nii can't make Sakura the center of the plot, the plot always revolves around the side cast and their issues ,while the problem Sakura has with trusting people has been addressed and nearly settled, the root cause is still left in the wind. It feels like the issue was addressed, but Sakura himself specifically never got his past elaborated on, but there is prime opportunity for angst and character moments, as well as just humanizing Sakura.

Thank you so much for responding!!

When I said I want to have a conversation, I meant it!! I agree that when you've got a fandom for something, the fans tend to be protective of the media and its author, and that shipping is something that is very prominent in fandom spaces.

But for the sake of this conversation, I'm going to do my best to ignore shipping that isn't confirmed or implied in the manga, and I'm going to acknowledge flaws in the writing if the points you bring up are convincing!

(If it becomes relevant, I'll only bring up things such as Endo and Takiishi's relationship and Tsubaki's affection for Umemiya, but I don't think they'll be something I need to really get into. )

I disagree with all the plot revolving solely around Umemiya, despite how relevant he is to most arcs in the manga.

The reason that Umemiya is so relevant, and is so present in the story, is because Sakura is going to take his spot someday. Sakura comes to Furin intending to take the top spot, a position that is currently filled by Umemiya.

For Sakura to make it to the top and it mean something, we need to understand what the position truly entails, and how it came to be. Which is what all the information we get on Umemiya is for. We're learning of his journey to the top and how he has shaped the world and its inhabitants.

For Choji and the Shishitoren arc, I'd like to argue that his obsession with Umemiya is about his position, and not about Umemiya himself. Choji and Umemiya are essentially in the same position, just in different teams. Which is why Choji focuses on Umemiya the way he does.

Choji and Togame share the same notion of power being a means to freedom. Choji latches onto this and decides that he wants to be the strongest, and therefore the freest. But when he reaches his goal of being the strongest, it turns out to not be like how he imagined, and the team takes a turn for the worst because of this.

Umemiya, however, is the strongest of his team. Yet he isn't experiencing the same boredom and despair as Choji is, despite being at the top. This is what Choji is so focused on. It's less about Umemiya as a person and is instead about the position he's in.

Sakura does also play an important role in the Shishitoren arc. The whole conflict likely wouldn't have started, or wouldn't have gone the way it did if it weren't for Sakura being there. Without him, the conflict likely would've been resolved differently.

Sakura and Togame's fight is important for both characters. For Sakura, he has a fight with someone where they both respect each other, likely for the first time. And for Togame, Sakura opens his eyes to the ways he's been acting, the ways he's gone against his own beliefs in order to salvage what is left of Shishitoren.

As for Tsubakino and Sugishita, they've both known him for years and he's played an important part in their lives.

For Tsubakino, Umemiya has been his friend since their first year in junior high. He learns that Tsubakino just wants to be himself and love the things he loves, which Umemiya praises him for, and tells him he's going to help back him up if someone tries to hurt him again. And they've been close friends all the way to where we currently are in the manga! Umemiya shows up in Tsubakino's story because he's relevant. It'd also be a little strange for Tsubakino to be one of the four kings without Umemiya showing up somehow, don't you think?

And with Sugishita, Umemiya also plays a similar role. Sugishita gets himself stuck in a spiral of meaningless fights he doesn't even want to be a part of, which Umemiya then saves him from. Umemiya saves him and brings him the peace he wants. This then manifests into his loyalty to Umemiya, as well as his friendship with the four kings.

With Sugishita, this also gives us insight into why he seems to hate Sakura so much. From the start we've known the main reason for it, which is Sakura aiming for Umemiya's spot in the school. But with the most recent chapters, we see why exactly he is so offended by this idea. Umemiya brought Sugishita peace, something that Sakura is actively disrupting. How could someone like Sakura, who's constantly snapping at people, and running into fights possibly measure up to Umemiya and what he's done for Sugishita?

It adds another layer to Sakura and Sugishita's rivalry, which I find incredibly interesting!

It's true that a lot of side characters are getting detailed backstories, while Sakura hasn't really had one yet. But in my opinion, this works out nicely with the way it's executed. It adds to the worldbuilding and makes the characters and the town feel more real, more solid.

I've really enjoyed learning about all the characters, as well as their relationships with each other. It makes Makochi and Furin feel like actual places with actual people, rather than just something that's there to only serve the main character.

As for Sakura's lack of backstory? I can see why you're itching for one, but I can't see it fitting into the story well if we got it right now. I also don't think that there even is a lot to it, not a lot to tell. We've already got a lot of info about Sakura and why he is the way he is, even without a proper backstory.

Even the first chapter makes Sakura's past very clear. He's a boy who's been mistreated for his looks for his entire life. It's brought up a couple times in the first few chapters even.

"How ya look doesn't matter in a fight, that's why I came to Furin"

"This is more like it. This is the right reaction. Everyone is always pushing me away, rejecting me, dismissing me-"

Sakura is someone who's been isolated growing up. This shines through in the way he interacts with others. Sakura is much more confident in a fight, he handles himself better in a fight. But when he interacts with others in a casual setting, he stumbles and gets flustered easily. A lot of the things that show just how alone he's been are subtle or might even be played as jokes, such as the only contact in his phone being a bot that gives you the weather forecast for the day. He also takes things literally. This could be just a trait of his, but it's likely a result of his lack of experience in social situations.

It's a lot of little things that add up. He's slow at texting because he's had nobody to text. He holds a spoon weirdly, likely because nobody corrected him growing up. Doesn't know how to open a Ramune bottle as he's never had one before. (This last one could also just be coincidence, but it all does still add up.)

I'm satisfied with how much we know about Sakura, but I'd love to hear what you'd like to get from a Sakura backstory!! Because it is true we haven't gotten a lot of info on where he was before Makochi.

The lack of backstory for him is because Wind Breaker isn't about his past, it's about him moving forward from it. It's about how Sakura makes a space for himself in Makochi. It's a story about him being accepted, about how a boy hated by all others becomes the hero of the town!

Please do respond again!! Share what you think of what I've said and give me your own observations! I'd love to keep the conversation going :)!!

#“if the points you bring up are convincing” is referencing future asks you send btw. where you back up what you say w examples and such #I left takiishi out of this to not make it longer than it already is..#Id be happy to talk about what him endo and umemiya have going on as well though !!#as well as the other arcs. such as KEEL! you said something about KEEL earlier that I found interesting :)#sorry if I took a while to respond . i wrote half of this yesterday when i got this ask and then finished it today :P #i was originally going to keep all of this off the wind breaker tag but . ive written 1300 words of wind breaker analysis #so i think i deserve it atp #wind breaker #laauranenn #asks

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tobiasdrake · 8 months ago

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Having talked a bit about both Chi-Chi/Goku and Bulma/Vegeta, I wanted to talk a bit more about Chi-Chi and Goku's relationship, and why it works for these particular characters.

As I talked about before, Goku is an aromantic character. He's also probably asexual or at least on the asexual spectrum. He's obviously not sex-repulsed as demonstrated by the existence of Gohan and Goten, but he's disinterested in the pursuit of romance or sexuality. Or any social endeavors, for that matter; Disappearing for years at a time while none of his friends get so much as a word from him was normal for Goku long before he ever even had a family.

It's a practice he retained even after he "settled down" with Chi-Chi.

"See ya later, Chi-Chi! I'm meeting up with all my old pals for the first time in five years."

This is just how Goku is. He doesn't have much of a social instinct at all. He has hyperfixations he wants to pursue, and he has varying degrees of "I do/do not like this person". but he isn't driven to socialize. The reason he's living with Chi-Chi is because he made a promise that he would live with Chi-Chi.

Yamcha's explanation here is Goku's sole conception of romance. They have to live in the same house now because that's what Goku promised her. That is Goku's one and only wedding vow.

He. Uh. He's not even very good at honoring that much.

Goku you literally only understand the barest possible minimum of what this social contract means and you're still failing at it. How do you even.

In any case, what makes Chi-Chi/Goku work is the innocence of it. Because Chi-Chi's comprehension of what they're actually doing here is as limited as Goku's is.

That's it. That is Chi-Chi's comprehension of romance. She is backest of backwoods Alabama Royalty. In this scene, she was five seconds away from letting herself be manipulated into thinking that a man that did this a minute ago was secretly in love with her:

See, it's okay 'cause he said "I love you" afterward so I guess this was all just a misunderstanding!

I'm not exaggerating when I say that Chi-Chi dodged a fucking bullet given the quality of relationship she could so easily have been suckered into. This girl was destined to be a domestic abuse victim.

...uh. Y'know.

Apart from one of the grossest jokes Toriyama ever wrote, I mean.

Point is, Chi-Chi is in the same boat as Goku. For Goku, this all started over a misunderstanding. He didn't know what Chi-Chi was talking about when she said she wanted him to ask for her hand.

For Chi-Chi, it's exactly the same. This all started over a misunderstanding. She didn't know that Goku just learned what girls are like three days ago and had a bad habit for a while of groping people to discern their genders.

Both of these kids are naive, innocent morons.

This innocence, this total lack of comprehension for what they are actually doing for both parties, is what makes their oddball contractual dynamic come across as funny and inoffensive. They aren't in love with one another in a romantic sense; They're playing house on a large scale.

The first day they met, they made a contractual agreement off of mutual dumbassery. The second day they met, the got married to fulfill that contract. Now they're trying to do the things that Chi-Chi was socially conditioned to believe you're supposed to do when you're married. That is their entire relationship with one another.

There is an innocence to all of this that allows the aroace Son Goku to be in a hetero dynamic without his partner coming across as predatory.

This, incidentally, is also why it's for the best that nothing ever came of this:

Yeah. Oh yeah. This. If it had been Bulma instead of Chi-Chi, this absolutely would have come across as predatory.

With Goku being aroace, there's essentially no possible way these two characters could get together romantically that wouldn't seem unbelievably manipulative on Bulma's part. Unlike Chi-Chi, she knows exactly what she's doing. She's super-intelligent, socially literate, and supremely amoral.

If these two got together, it would absolutely feel like she was taking advantage of Goku's naivety. That's why, though their relationship is arguably the strongest and the single-most important interpersonal relationship in the series:

It vitally remains platonic to this day.

This is, itself, the beauty of Toriyama's character writing. His plots have varying degrees of jankiness to them, his "traditional values" and sometimes flagrant sexism bleeds through his work, and there are some really gross moments here and there. But one thing he grasps well is the unique dynamics of every interpersonal relationship.

At no point are these characters simply "A group of friends". Every relationship between two characters is unique, built upon their own personal identities and histories with one another. Tenshinhan's relationship with Goku is not the same as his relationship with Gohan, his relationship with Krillin, or his relationship with Vegeta.

And they often defy easy categorization into boxes like "The Lovers" and "The Pals" and "The Besties". Goku's relationship with Bulma or Vegeta or Chi-Chi is what it is, and it is nothing else, but what exactly it is isn't easily pinned down into a neat, digestible semblance of normalcy. It just. Is.

#dragon ball #dragon ball z #son goku #chi chi

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 2 years ago

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༉‧₊˚. 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧 || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

― pairing: daryl dixon x plus size wife!reader

― era: season 11

― summary: you're a big fan of the commonwealth's military uniform on your husband but he isn't so sure.

― warnings: unprotected sex, intimate sex, daryl's insecure about how he looks but it's okay, oral sex (r. receiving), missionary, teasing, and praising kink.

― wc: 1293

⋆ a/n: well, hello everyone, and happy pride month!! i'm back (not officially), and of course i'm posting daryl because am i really me if i didn't? also, i do admit i babygirlified daryl in this fic, like- i couldn't help myself, but anyways, enjoy and let me know what you think!

masterlist | AO3

“I don’t understand why you do that.” You said from your shared bed.

“Do what?” Daryl asked you as he stood in front of the full-length mirror. He was essentially checking him out, but with a lot more apprehension for himself than the usual.

“Nit-pick every part about you until there’s nothing left.”

“’Cause I look stupid.” You knew he meant to play it off as a scoff, maybe even a dig at the bulky plastic uniform, but you know that he could be placed in a potato sack and still be convinced that he’s the reason why the sack doesn’t look good.

With a sigh, you got up from the bed, coming to stand behind him.

“Well,” You breathed out as you set your hands on his shoulders. “You want to know what I think?” You asked him softly. He just grunted, giving you a half-hearted shrug, only one of his shoulders moving up as he cast his gaze to the floor. You took that grunt as a means to continue, your hands sliding down to his biceps and giving and them a firm squeeze - the firmest squeeze that you could seeing as though the armor got in your way.

“I think that you look sexy.” Your touch then traveled down to his forearms, resting there for a moment before reaching around his waist, resting your hands on his chest plate. “And strong.” You continued. Your arms snaked back behind him, placing themselves on his pert ass, which was is outlined by the posterior coverup. “But also, it makes your ass look good.” You finished with a smile when you heard his chuckle.

You gripped his hips and softly turned him around, cupping the scruff of his cheeks. His eyes closed at the gentle show of affection.

“You look handsome all the time, okay? So, I don’t want you worrying about some stupid uniform; and besides, I should be worried about other women coming after you once they see you in this.” He let out a sound that was a mix between a scoff and a snort, “Ya ain’t gotta worry about that.” He reassured you. “I know.” You said with a smile.

Your eyes fell on his lips before you leaned up to capture them softly.

He reciprocated your affections, his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you as close to his body as he could despite the uniform that prevented him from feeling your ample, plush form against his.

“Need’ta get this stupid shit off me.” He grumbled against your mouth. You giggled, a smile spreading on your face as you both frantically worked, and managed, to get his top and pants off; now, all he was left in was his black long-sleeved shirt and his underwear.

“Well, don’t you look cute.” You teased. “Ain’t cute.” He growled, pulling you towards him so he could feel you now. “Sure, you aren’t.” You joked sarcastically before intertwining your fingers into his hair and pressing your lips together. He grunted into your mouth at the added pressure to his scalp, but he didn’t complain, slowly walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed.

He gently set you down, motioning you to move up on the bed so that your head was now propped up on the pillows.

He settled himself between your thighs, working your underwear down your legs.

“Tonight is supposed to be about you, Dar.” You sighed as you felt his breathing against your damp labia. “I know, but this is what I wanna do.” He said, throwing your thick legs over his as equally thick shoulders. “Then I suppose I shouldn’t stop you.” You gasped out as he ran his tongue through your folds, the muscle caressing your clit.

He ate you out like a man starved, his tongue dipping in and out of your hole before trailing back up to suck your clit into his mouth, lightly nibbling on it. Your legs twitched around his head, your back arching and your nails scratching at his scalp. He groaned loudly, the vibration of his timbre voice sending an almost electric like current to shoot up your spine; your breathing turning labored as he did. His fervent licks coaxed you closer to your orgasm, your thighs pressing against his ears like warmed earmuffs.

You tasted divine and he just couldn’t stop. With the stress of being recruited and trained, plus having to deal with assholes - mostly Sebastian - he needed this, needed to be able to get lost for just a few moments, and he was grateful that you were his vice, a sea to get lost in.

“Daryl! ‘m gonna- ‘m gonna cum, please.” You cried out. Though your voice was muffled, he could feel it in the way you squeezed around him. As you neared your high, he focused solely on your clit, leisurely flicking and sucking until you shook, your whine that almost sounded like a squeal broke the air.

He pulled away from you once your legs grew weak, your limbs falling open so he could wiggle his way up your chest to deliver you a burning kiss. You could taste yourself on him as you desperately tried to keep up with the rigorous pace that his mouth moved in.

“You fine to keep goin’?” He mumbled. You nodded, laying your head back in bliss so he could deliver heated nibbles and bites to the column of your throat. “Yeah.” You swallowed.

He looked into your eyes one more time before taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together, the other reached down to align himself to your entrance before allowing himself to push into you.

You drew your bottom lip into your mouth, shutting your eyes and squeezing Daryl’s hand as you got used to him. It wasn’t long before he picked up his pace, his thrusts slow and deep. You could feel him, feel all of him as he took large inhales of air, selfishly breathing you in as he groaned.

“Ya feel so good.” He grunted as he pulled out just to slam his hips back into you. Your head swam at the praise, a meek whimper pushing past your lips. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving crescent marks in their wake. Daryl always enjoyed the extra added pain, his body stuttering at the scratches.

“Need’ta feel ya squeeze me.” He heaved. He pressed his body further onto yours, as if he was trying to mold you two together. You fed into his demand, contracting around him that sent his body jolting upward. “God damn girl.” He cursed.

“Faster, D. I need it.” You whined, arching your back to the best of your abilities. “I got you.” He assured you, picking up his pace, the pleasure that shot up your spine scrambling your brain.

His cock constantly brushed up against that spongy spot hidden deep within you.

With the way his hips were stuttering, you could tell he was close.

“Cum in me.” You gasped. Normally, Daryl would choose to take the cautious route, but tonight, your loving words and reassurance had gotten him so pent up that he couldn’t help but agree, marking you as his as he let go inside of you with a deep, earth-shattering combination between a moan and a groan.

You worked him through the aftershocks of his orgasm, running your fingers through his hair, holding him close to you as he shook in your arms.

“You okay?” You asked with a shit-eating grin. He huffed a chuckle. “Yeah, ‘m alright.” He said from the crook of your neck. “Fuckin’ exhausted though.” He grunted as he rolled off of you.

“Oh, how I love my old man.” You teased, cuddling up to his side.

“Shuddup.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

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