#Fake deep shit but it's the mood

[shidoukanae]

TME PMV frame thingie WIP

I absolutely adore Helene and Lyla's relationship in both iterations of TME's story and i NEED more qpt gal relationships like theirs is i s2g

it's really, REALLY hard to get me sincerely invested in relationships between female characters but damn am i invested in this one.

Something about a do-good heroine who is abnormally hostile only towards her own half-sister for seemingly no reason (read: "no reason") is a dynamic i can't get enough and seeing Lyla constantly make efforts in both the manhwa/LN to reach out to her is so bittersweet and yet amazingly well done

(and i can't praise enough how amazing Helene is handled as a deeply flawed female character!!! She's genuinely the best written female character ive seen and i wish more gals were written as amazing as she is TwT)

[anotheraccountonthisapp]

CW: vent in tags (I'm sorry idk Tumblr etiquette yet-)

unfortunately a lot of the corny self help advice turns out to be true but the thing is you have to come to those conclusions yourself otherwise it just sounds dismissive and dumb

[hadersversion]

but daddy i love him!

“no, i’m not coming to my senses. i know he’s crazy but he’s the one i want.”

pairing: rafe cameron x innocent kook!reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut, minors dni!!! dry humping & fingering. corruption kink of sorts (rafe and an innocent reader has taken over me fully i apologize). parental violence/verbal abuse. fighting. rafe showing his true colors but quickly hiding it from the reader because rafe is a big softie for them. pet names (sweetheart, honey, darling, baby, pretty/good girl). aftercare. let me know if i miss any!

mood board!

rafe cameron was bad news.

anyone in the outer banks could tell you that.

he was a fighter, a shit-talker, a guy who you couldn’t trust.

but there was something so intriguing about him that you just couldn’t turn away.

from the day you moved to island almost 10 years ago, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. you would see him at parties, the country club, when you would hang out with his sister, around town on his motorbike with his buddies. but you had to push that crush deep down because no one in their right mind would go after that boy.

except you.

you stretched yourself on the court, waiting for your dad to come out with drinks before your tennis match. that’s when you saw him and his friends making their way to the locker room. they had just got done their round of golf, you could tell by their bags. you tried not to stare, but your eyes seemed to have a mind of their own.

“hey, y/n.” you heard him call, with a smirk painted across his face.

your face blushed and you waved to him. “hey rafe.” play it cool, play it cool.

you can see him look you up and down, staring at your legs. “nice skirt.”

you looked down at the new, white tennis skirt your dad had bought you for your report card. your fingers found a loose thread, beginning to toy with it to deal with the embarrassment you felt. “t-thanks.”

he nods before looking behind you. “mr. y/l/n.” he nods with a quick wave. you turn around to see your dad with two waters and a stern look on his face. “enjoy your game.” he says before going inside.

your dad stands over you as you sit, handing a water bottle over. “that cameron boy…” he lets out a deep sigh.

“what?” you question, getting up and brushing your legs off.

your dad pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “he’s not the kind of guy you want to be friends with, sweetie. he’s a bad seed.”

“but how do you know that?” you question, trying not to sound too suspicious.

your dad picks up his racket and makes his way over to his side of the net. “i know ward cameron. and i know how rafe is just like his dad, thinks he can get anything he wants. thinks there is no consequences to life. but there is. there always is.” your dad shakes his head. “i saw him beating up some kid here not that long ago. sure, he was a pogue but doesn’t give rafe the right to walk around like the king of the outer banks. but until someone stops him, humbles him, things’ll never change.”

you stand there, uncomfortable. all you wanted to do was defend rafe, though you weren’t close like that. but your dad is a one way street. it’s his way or no way. so all you can do is nod. “oh…okay.” you say simply, getting ready for the match.

“just promise me you won’t get mixed up with the likes of that boy, please?” your father looks sincere.

you bite your lip and look down at your clean, white shoes. “yes sir.”

“good, now watch me beat you in tennis.” he says with a laugh. i fake a smile, getting on with the game, but still have rafe in the back of my mind.

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you didn’t see rafe again until the night of a house party at topper’s house.

your friends and you walk in, buzzed from the pre-game. they immediately all go their separate ways, looking for drinks, boys, or both. this leaves you standing awkwardly by a table, talking to some people from school. they talk about prom, their grades, and teachers, making you mentally check out from the conversation. that’s when he catches your eye, he is talking to topper and kelce with a red solo cup in his hand. you watch his every move, how big and veiny his hands are, practically cover the entire cup. how he constantly pushes his hair back while he talks, almost seeming like a force of habit he has. he also licks his lips a lot, sending a very graphic image of rafe between your le-

he looks up, meeting your gaze. a blush forms on your face as you try to hide your embarrassment but taking a sip of alcohol from your cup. you give yourself some time, staring into the cup before looking up again. but when you look at him, he hasn’t stopped staring at you. the blush you fought so hard to keep away makes your face feel like it’s on fire.

you watch as he excuses himself and makes his way over to you. this has to be a dream? or some prank, right?

“hey there, y/n.” he snaps you out of your spiraling thoughts. every person who you are talking to looks over to rafe then back at you. “didn’t know you were coming.”

you awkwardly shrug. “last minute choice by my friends.”

his eyes burn holes into your body as he looks you up and down. “well, i’m glad you’re here.” you nod at him, offering a shy smile. “looks like you need another drink, come inside and i’ll get you one.” he nods his head towards the kitchen door. the group you're with is watching this conversation like it’s a TV show. you make my way through them and stand next to him. he automatically puts his hand on your back and leads you inside. the feeling of his touch sends chills down your spine but it almost feels like his hand is meant to be there. like his touch is the missing piece in your life.

you get into the kitchen and he heads towards the fridge, grabbing juice and handing it over. “you strike me as a vodka and juice, girl.” he says with a smile, making my insides melt.

“and what makes you say that?” you ask, putting your hand on my hip, playing into his little game of flirting.

“well, you’re sweet and you seem to play it safe. you don’t really drink a lot but when you do, you’re never blacked out.” he admits with a laugh, giving his diagnosis. “juice is sweet and vodka is the safest way to get a little drunk, in my opinion.” he stares at your face, waiting for a response.

“you’re good, rafe cameron. a little too good.” you admit, grabbing the juice and filling up the cup. he stands over you, giving me the vodka next. “didn’t know i was that easy to read.”

“you’re not.” he admits, staring down at you while you drink. “i just think i have a special interest in you.”

you freeze in place, there’s no way he’s admitting this to you. right now. the boy you’ve been pining after since the first grade. you can tell you're shutting down but you need to play it cool. “oh really?” you look up at his blue eyes, getting lost in them instantaneously.

“really.” he steps closer, inches away from my face. you know you are not that drunk but your head feels like it’s spinning under his gaze. he leans in a little closer, your noses brushing, when the kitchen door slams and topper can be seen stumbling in. his obnoxious laugh fills the room, making rafe close his eyes and sigh. “what could you possibly want right now?”

topper laughs and comes up beside rafe, he’s clearly fucked up. “i’m just looking for some weed, man.” he hits his chest playfully. “don’t let me get in your way.”

rafe pushes him away, making topper laugh harder at us. he looks at you before speaking. “sorry for being a cockblock.”

rafe narrows his eyes at him. “just get the fuck outta here, top.”

topper staggers into the other room, still laughing.

“sorry about him. when he drinks, he becomes an asshole.” he says, running a hand across his face.

“is he drunk all the time?” i ask with a new found confidence in my voice.

rafe looks at me and laughs. “seems to be.”

you both stand in silence, not moving away from each other but unable to bring the moment back.

“i like you.” he admits.

you stare at him, unable to speak. “w-what?”

“i think you heard me, y/n.” he smiles cockily, looking into your eyes.

you look back at him. “you barely know me, rafe.”

“doesn’t mean i can’t like you.” he sips his cup and nudges your shoulder with his. “i think you could say the same about me.” he gets closer, whispering into your ear. “don’t think i don’t notice how you stare at me when i’m around.”

you feel the air leave your body and you bite your lip. you feel like your cornered and have nowhere to go. “i-i-uh…”

he brushes his finger against your lip, almost like he’s shushing you. but you can’t even fight the way your body reacts to his touch. “it’s okay, honey. i like it. i like it a lot.” he says in a whisper, almost making you forget you aren’t the only two people in the world. it feels like you can read his mind just by looking into his blue eyes. he wants you…screw that, rafe cameron needs you. and you need him. forget what your father says, or the town, or even your friends. this seems to be all you need.

how am i ever going to recover from this? you thought to yourself.

you hear your friend call your name from outside. rafe looks over as they yell from outside. “i’ll see you around, how’s that sound?” you look at him, unable to think when he looks at you like this. his hand brushes against your face before walking back out into the party.

you stand there, still as your friend comes in. “you alright? looks like you seen a ghost or something.” she asks you, laughing a bit.

“all good.” was all you can get out, staring straight ahead at the door rafe just left in.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

ever since the party, rafe found little ways to be around you.

whether it was joining you at the country club while you played tennis or hanging around you when he saw you at the beach reading. he even started knocking on the front door of your mansion to just talk on your porch, something you had to hide from your dad. with these interactions, you had no idea what everyone was warning you about with him. he was one of the sweetest guys you ever met. for weeks, you and rafe had begun a nice friendship.

but the almost kiss at topper's party was never spoken of again.

the two of you sat on your porch swing, the air was warm as summer was slowly approaching. your legs laid flatly across rafe’s lap, looking directly at him. you poured a glass of lemonade for you both, sparking rafe to hit you with a “you sure you don’t want some vodka in this?”

when you’re with rafe, the conversations seem to just flow like you are the oldest of friends. you could talk about anything and nothing at the same time. he went on for the past five minutes about how he used to love playing lacrosse but one injury affected his whole career for him.

“it sucked, ya know? i never felt like i belonged anywhere, or had a close bond with anyone like i did on that team. then one fucking torn acl later and it’s all gone for me. i had college scouts looking at me and everything. i could’ve escaped this place and lived the real college experience.” he looked out into the water that faced your house. he turned to you and smiled awkwardly. “jeez, i’m sorry i just don’t shut up.”

you chuckle at him, loving how he put some of his walls down around you. “it’s okay, i like hearing ya talk. it’s soothing.” you smile innocently at him.

he gazes into your eyes and nods, his expression softening. “really?” you nod and he just stares at you. “you’re one of a kind, ya know?” his fingers start to rub innocent circles on your leg.

“and why’s that?” you ask him.

“i-i don’t know, i feel like i can be myself around you.” he admits. “don’t ever quote me on that because i’ll deny that shit.” he points, gaining a laugh from you.

“don’t want anyone to know rafe cameron can be a softie?” you tease him.

“shut up, i’m not a softie.”

“i think you can be behind close doors.” you say.

he stops rubbing your leg and turns to you. “oh shut up.”

“well, you’re gonna have to make me then.” you say without thinking.

rafe looks at you with a fire in his eyes that you haven’t seen since the party. “what was that?” he cocks his eyebrow at you.

you just stare into his eyes, straightening your shoulders back. a confidence striking you like never before. “i think you heard me, rafe.”

without missing a beat, rafe connects your lips. all of that pent-up tension, gone within that very second. his hands found his way to your face, cupping it ever so lightly like you were a delicate flower he was so lucky to have found. his hands slowly slid down your body, like he was trying to memorize every inch of your skin. "jesus, this is all i've been thinking about." he said breaking away, looking into your eyes.

"then, don't stop." you say breathlessly, climbing on top of his lap, kissing him again.

you can tell this move took rafe by surprise as he let out a soft moan in the kiss. the innocence he once thought you possessed was now all gone. you slowly began grinding yourself against rafe's clothed cock, which was slightly hardening. "fuck, who knew you had it in you, honey." he said as he kissed down your jaw. you never felt so needier in your life chasing a high with rafe that you thought you could only dream about.

your face blushed as you looked down at rafe who was staring up at you like you were a painting held high in the louvre. the more you looked down, the more self-conscious you became. your pace which was rapidly increasing started to falter. "hey, hey, sweetheart. don't stop now. what's wrong? talk to me." he caressed your face so lovingly.

you bit your lip and closed your eyes, still out of breathe. "i-i-i don't know. what if i'm doing this wrong? or it's weird for you? i'm just nervous, i never did this before."

"did what, sweetheart? dry humped?" he almost laughed, pushing hair out of your face.

you shrugged. "well yes and no..." your voice started to trail off.

"yes and no?" rafe stared at you with a puzzled expression, trying to crack the code. you watched as he deciphered your words and the gears started to turn. "y/n, have you ever been with someone like...sexually before?"

you wanted to cry, the embarrassment being too hard to handle. you just laid your head against rafe's chest and sighed. "please, don't think of me any differently. i just...i just haven't found the right person to do all this with, ya know? i used to be scared but with you...i don't know, i feel ready." rafe sat there in silence, his hands falling to your waist and gripping them. you break away from his chest and stare into his eyes, which have seemed to darken. "rafe?"

"you trust me?" he asks simply. you nod shyly, causing his breath to hitch. you can feel his pants grow tighter under you. "i want you to keep going, do you hear me? don't stop until you cum on my pants." it sounds like he is giving you orders. he brings his thumb across your lip and gives a menacing smirk. "you wanna be all mine, huh? you pretty girl. show me your mine."

with his reassurance, you pick up you begin to rub yourself against his pants. your hands grip his shoulders as he holds you down on him. "good girl, keep it going." the material of his jeans feel rough against your clothed cunt but it adds a sensation you have never felt before. "shit, look at how pretty you look on me. can't wait to bury my cock inside you. would you like that? my cock being so far inside you, you can feel it in your stomach?"

you let out a pathetic whine, your head falling back from the pleasure you have building up inside. "y-yes."

"good girl, but we gotta start with the basics, right?" his hands start to trail up your body, stopping at your closed breasts. he cups them with his hands and smiles when you cry his name. "i got you, baby. c'mon, you know you wanna cum."

you quickly grind against him, feeling desperate as you chase your high. with his words of praise and reassurance, you can feel yourself ready to release. with one quick movement, you feel the tension building up in your stomach release as you cum on rafe. tears prick your eyes as you repeat his name over and over again. "rafe, rafe, rafe."

he stares at you in awe as you finish on him. the sight of your teary eyes and his name falling from your lips in such a needy way pushed him over the edge. he found himself cumming in his pants like he was a high schooler all over again.

you both stayed there, out of breathe, not moving once. you felt like a whole new person even though barely anything has changed.

"you alright?" he asks, pushing hair away from your face.

you tiredly nod, not knowing how to form words. your hooded eyes just take in the view of rafe, his face read and sweaty with a cocky smirk painted across it.

he bites his lip and kisses you gently. "there's more where that came from, you know?" he says and your head reels. "i've been waiting for so long to have you to myself, sweetheart. i don't plan on letting go now."

you giggle into his chest and nod. "don't gotta worry about me leaving, trust me. i've never felt so good in my life." the sweet yet sensual moment you two shared came to a halt when you heard your dad's truck pulling up the gravel road to your house. "shit." you quickly climb off rafe, trying to compose yourself.

your father quickly exited the truck, slamming the door behind him. he seemed to race up to the two of you as you sat there. rafe's hand protectively went over yours as your father approached. "the hell is he doing here?" he fumes.

"d-dad, we're just hanging out." you lie to his face.

"yes sir, that's all we were doing." rafe says camly, looking at him in the eyes.

your father head snaps towards rafe. "was i talking to you, boy? no. stay outta it." his attention focuses back to you. "i told you to not mess with the likings of this boy and what do you do behind my back?" he screams at you. "you go around with this...this hooligan! i want him off my property now. acting like some easy girl, i raised you better."

"b-but, daddy." you pout, trying not to cry as rafe squeezes your hand.

"sir, you're being too hard on her. it's not her fault." rafe tries to calm him down.

your father's finger rests on rafe's chest as he gets close to his face. "oh i know that, rafe. it's you and your typical bullshit. my daughter wouldn't act this way if it wasn't for you. look at you, you're probably using her."

rafe's fists clenched as your father talks down to him, no one does this to him and gets away with it. "sir, i suggest you put that finger down."

"or what?" your father snickers in his face.

rafe's whole demeanor shifts, the sweet boy you were just talking to now gone. like he was never even there. it honestly scared you how fast rafe can change personalities. "you don't even want to know." he grits his teeth. you hate to admit the affect this took on your body, clenching your legs together.

your father drops his finger and turns to you. "inside, now." he says, grabbing your arm. before you can fight him off, he's dragging you away from rafe.

"it's okay, baby, we'll figure this out." he reassures as you are being brought into your house. "fuck!" he screams as soon as the door slams shut.

you watch as rafe makes his way to his truck, slamming the door shut and driving away. you turn to your father who just stares at you as you cry. "screw you!" you say before running upstairs and locking yourself in your room.

you finally had him and now you lost him.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

the days past since you saw rafe.

your father grounded you and cut you off from the outside world.

you sat by your window and waited, having some false hope that rafe would be your knight in shining armor and take you away from this place. your father pulled up the driveway and seemed to struggle getting out of his truck.

you met him at the door, ready to deal with the bullshit he would throw you today. when you opened your door, your father seemed battered and bruised.

"holy sh-i mean...what happened?" you asked, holding the door open for your dad as he sat on the recliner.

"nothing." he shuttered. "nothing happened."

you stood there and crossed your arms. "clearly something happened."

he shook his head, seeming almost fearful. "nothing happened, now drop it." you stood there as he turned to you. "you aren't grounded anymore. your phone is on my dresser." he seemed almost defeated.

you stared at your dad trying to understand what the hell is going on. are you in the twilight zone? you knew you wouldn't get an answer out of him so you grabbed your things and raced out of the house before he could change his mind. the sun was setting but you didn't care, you had one thing and one thing only on your mind.

you got on your bike and raced towards tannyhill. when you finally got there, you threw your bike down and almost ran to the front door. with two knocks, wheezie opened the door.

"y/n?" she said with a smirk.

"hey, wheezie, is rafe home?" you say, snooping around the insides of the home.

she rolls her eyes and opens the door. "in his room."

you walk up the stairs and stop right before his door. your fist hovering over it before connecting it to the wood. after a few seconds, rafe stands there in the almost dark room.

"y/n." he says, almost as though he was expecting you to be here.

you quickly jump into his arms, holding onto him by his neck. you missed this. the way he smelled, the way he felt, everything about this boy drive you wild. "i missed you."

"i missed you too, honey. come on in." he lets you into his room. this was your first time being in here. sure, you've seen it through snapchat and pictures he sends but that's it. it's the typical boy room but it felt authentic. it felt like rafe.

you sit down on his bed as he walks around, picking up clothes off the floor. "didn't think i'd be having guests." he doesn't seem like his usual self, maybe you caught him at a bad time? but he invited you in, so you stayed.

you laugh at him. "no big deal, the old man let me off the hook tonight. it was weird, he came home all messed up. i tried asking but he kinda pushed me away. it was weird."

rafe stood there, silently. "oh really?"

"yeah, super strange. he's not usually the fighter type. never has been." you watch him stand there. "you all good?"

he nods and turns to you. "i am, now that you're here."

you smile at him as he approaches you. you open your legs so he can stand in between them, looking down at you. he traces your face with his finger, stopping at your lips. "all mine, sweetheart. all mine." he says before bending down to kiss you. the kiss feels rough, almost as though you are a fresh breathe of air that rafe has been waiting for. he pushes you down onto his bed and crawls on top of you.

you break the kiss and look into his eyes, his room is dark so you can only make out certain features. but you bring your hand to his face and hold his cheek, which makes him wince. "oh, i'm sorry, did i hurt you?"

"n-no, it's all good." he tries to kiss you again but you stop him.

"rafe?" you ask him, making him stop once again. "what's wrong? tell me."

"goddamn! nothing is wrong, okay? i can't miss you." he says, running a hand through his hair. you try to study his face but can't even see him. you reach over for his bedside lamp. "no, no, leave it of-" before he can stop you, the light is on. his beautiful face has a large bruise under his right eye and cheek. his lip busted and knuckles bruised.

"rafe?" you question, sitting up.

"y/n, i can explain." he pleads.

then it all makes sense. your father coming home all battered and bruised, rafe's current state, you being let off the hook too easily.

"you don't even want to know."

"it's okay, baby, we'll figure this out."

his words from that night ring through your head. the way his whole demeanor changed that night into a person you've never seen before.

"d-did you?" you ask with teary eyes.

"baby, look at me. i can explain." he begs you but you start to get up.

"explain what? how you beat up my fucking dad!?" you yelled, trying to grasp the millions of thoughts you had. "h-how could you?" you stand by his door, pacing, with your head in your hands.

he walks up to you, grabbing your hand. "look at me, honey, please. look at me." he begs you, trying to grab your attention.

when you finally turn to him, you see the cuts and bruises again. "rafe, why?" you say with a tear slipping down.

"because i love you, honey. you're my girl and i don't give a fuck who it is, they cannot talk to you the way your own father did. calling you easy, acting like your dumb for being around me. nobody should ever talk to you like that, ever." you stop and he cups your face in his hands. "i just wanted to talk to him, okay? all i wanted to do was talk. but then he started again with how i'm a bad person and how you were being stupid for even acknowledging me. he said he didn't need a guy like me corrupting his daughter and i snapped."

you gazed into his eyes, they looked as though they were pleading with you to see why he did what he did.

"please, say something. please." he states.

you sigh and close your eyes. "rafe, i don't need you going around defending my honor, especially to my dad. it's not worth it."

"not worth it? sweetheart, look at me." you open your eyes. "you are worth everything to me, you hear me? everything. i would kill for you if you asked me to. i never had someone care for me the way you do, have someone listen to me, or even treat me normally. you mean the world to me, y/n. i love you."

and there it was.

rafe cameron, for once in his life, showed affection.

he told someone they love them.

"i'm sorry it was your dad, okay? sometimes, i black out and can't remember things when i'm angry. i act on my impulses. but with you, i never feel that way." he shakes his head, trying to contain all his emotions. your eyes water again, causing him to wipe the tears. "what's wrong, baby? talk to me."

you smile through the tears. "i just, i love you too." no one has ever made you feel so safe and loved in one moment than rafe has this past month. he's all you could ever ask for.

he beams down at you, shaking his head. "you mean that?"

"with every ounce of my body, i love you." you admit.

his heart swelled as he connected your lips once more to his. you were all his, all he ever needed in life to feel whole.

rafe pushes you against the door, a light moan slipping from your lips as he presses himself against you.

"you like that?" he asks, a satisfied smirk on his face as he kisses your cheek and goes down your neck.

you nod under his touch, like you're cast in his spell. "y-yes."

"you want more?" he asks, sucking on one spot of your neck for a long time. all you can do is nod, already becoming a mess because of him. he pulls away, having you almost whimper from the lack of contact. "not uh, baby, gotta hear some words out of that beautiful mouth of yours. i'll repeat myself, do you want more."

"y-yes, rafe, yes please."

he groans at your begging and nods. "good girl." he pulls you over to the bed and guides you toward it. you feel the bed hit the back of your knees and you sit down, looking up at him. he quickly takes his shirt off and tosses it to the side.

he kisses your lips lightly as his hands find the end of your shirt, lightly toying with the fabric. "y-you can take it off." with the reassurance, he slips the top off and leaves it next to you. his eyes take in your body, your breasts pooling out of a flimsy green bralette. he sucks his tongue and gently runs his fingers over your tits.

"so pretty and they're all for me." he slowly reaches behind your back and unclasps the bralette with one hand, letting it fall down your body. you could swear rafe has tiny hearts in his eyes as they bore onto your half-naked body. "lay down." you follow his orders and lay against his pillows. his bedroom light shines over his features and the cuts from the fight. you bring your hand up to touch them and he gives into your touch. "you okay?"

"more than okay." you tell him.

he kisses your hand then his lips meet with yours once again. he then lets his lips trail across your cheek, jaw, neck, and down to your chest. he stares at your tits before peppering them both with kisses. he then takes one nipple in his mouth, slowly, and grabs your other one with your free hand to give a squeeze. your body instantaneously reacts to rafe's touch, moaning at the sensation of his lips. "you like that, huh?" he almost teases, switching to the other nipple.

"m-more." you whisper out, clenching your eyes.

"what was that, honey? need you to speak up for me." he grins.

"please, i want more, rafe. touch me more." you raise your voice.

"you got it." his hand leaves your tit and trails slowly down your body, resting at the hem of your jeans. he unbuttons them and lets his hands slide down your underwear, his hands automatically getting soaked. "shit, baby, all this for me?" he runs ins finger down your cunt and gathering your slick, bringing it to his mouth. he sucks it off his fingers as you watch in awe. "you're just too sweet for me, you know that?"

he doesn't even give you time to think before he puts his fingers back inside you, swirling your cunt. your hands grab his shoulders, holding onto them for dear life. "it's okay, i got ya, i always got ya." he reassures as he slowly slips one finger into your tight hole. "jesus, honey, with a hole this tight i don't know how long i'll last." he says as he slips his finger in and out of you, his thumb still toying with your clit.

your head falls back as more moans fall from your lips. "more, rafe, please give me more."

he laughs slightly. "cocky little thing, aren't ya? if you insist." he adds one more finger, your hole clenching around him as his finger slip in and out. "look how pretty you look with my fingers inside of you." he says before kissing your mouth, collecting your moans. you're so wet you hear the noises your pussy is making around him. you feel overstimulated as rafe keeps going, not stopping once. tears prick your eyes as you feel your high approaching. his thumb rubs harder as your nails connect to rafe's chest, dragging them down. "my pretty baby, i just love you so much." he says, staring at you.

with those words, you feel yourself being pushed to pleasure. you cum all over rafe's fingers, crying out his name. "rafe!"

he lets you ride out your high before taking his fingers out and putting them in his mouth like he did before. "never gonna get tired of that."

he gets up and heads to the bathroom. you want to talk to him, ask him where he's going, but you're too tired. you've never felt this good, not even from your own fingers. rafe comes back with a towel in his hand, gently, he pulls off your shorts and panties, cleaning off your pussy. the water is nice and warm as he gets you situated. he drops the rag and crawls into his bed next to you, holding you tightly.

"you know, if you want me to go dow-" but before you can finish that sentence he kisses your forehead.

"no need to rush there, honey. i wanna take my time with you, wanna show you how good i can make you feel." your heart melts in your chest as he rubs your back lightly. "get some rest, alright?"

you fall asleep fast in his arms, he holds you there the entire night and doesn't plan on letting go.

[velvetures]

Got Me Snoring

A/N: One of my favorite things inspired by all the Ghost/König cosplayer TikToks using that one, song audio. Summary: Ghost admits getting head is boring. Reader isn't happy with that idea and goes about changing his mind. T/W: NS/FW 18+ Only, blowjobs, deepthroating, size kink if you squint, spit?, cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and it's been a long ass time since I've written full-on smut.

“All I’m sayin’ is that if she calls again, I’m not about to answer.” Soap’s voice carried from the living space of the hotel room to the kitchenette where you stood microwaving some rice from a convenience store down the street.

After-mission talk always leads to the most strange conversations. Maybe the adrenaline or the high of getting almost killed got everyone in a talking mood. However as the Captain slid behind you to go grab more ice outside in the hallway, you couldn’t help but shoot him a questioning look. They’d been talking about their previous accomplishments and failures in the bedroom for nearly twenty minutes, and thankfully they’d not roped you into the ridiculous conversation but with the Captain leaving out of the room, it drew their eyesight right to you standing patiently for your instant rice to finish cooking.

“What about you, huh?” Gaz was the one to poke a little. “Have any horror stories from the bedroom?” His eyebrows raised in mischievous curiosity as all three men sat staring at you with great intent.

“I’ve faked it plenty of times.” You reply offhandedly, waving a hand at them and going back to staring at the small plastic cup rotating around in the microwave.

You overheard the men pass through the moment of silence with low laughs, most noticeably, Ghost. Who’d apparently found something very funny and decided to grace everyone with the sound of deep and resounding chuckles. With a gloved hand, you take out your food and rejoin them in the room, finding a spot on the corner of one of the beds and crossing your legs to hold the bowl while you watch and listen to more of their recounted stories.

Soap complained more about the one night he’d met up with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, and drank himself into oblivion to try and ease his nerves. The only problem was, that when he finally had enough liquid courage to make a move, he couldn’t get it up. Even watching him recount the tale now, you could see his embarrassment. You couldn’t imagine just how beautiful that woman had to be for Soap to give himself whiskey-dick so bad that to this day he regretted the memory and undoubtedly wished he could take it back. Gaz got pressured into retelling the story of the woman he met in Russia just for you since you’d never heard it; Detailing just how she’d been absolutely obsessed with him right from the get-go.

She couldn’t stop fawning over his accent and just how downright good-looking he was. Gaz on the other hand felt very embarrassed and never really tried to take things further on that trip. Fortunately for him, on a trip back a few months later for pleasure, he ran into the woman again and this time around she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Soap and Ghost laughed, poking fun at how utterly exhausted Garrick was when he met up with them in London. His shit-eating grin was more than enough for them to surmise that his little Russian vixen had taken him for a hell of a ride.

Then there was Ghost.

He didn’t have much to say in the way of his own successes, but did share one or two small comparisons with the other two as they kept pulling out detail after detail about the many people they’d met over the years and how they either felt they’d left their mark… or totally fucking missed it. All of it came to a very interesting topic that you suddenly became very interested in when Ghost uttered one single statement that left your mouth hanging open and staring at him almost in disbelief.

“I don’t like someone blowin’ my cock,” his voice sounded flat. Totally unbothered and nearly sleeping at the idea. “Never cared much for it when half doesn’t fit.”

You couldn’t help but insert yourself into the conversation after a long hour or so of sitting like a viewer at a movie. “Wait a second… You mean to tell me you don’t like getting head because you're too big?” The gasp in your tone was obvious, and even Soap and Gaz looked at him a little strangely as if they didn’t truly believe the idea either. It gave you a bit more reassurance in your belief that almost all men enjoyed it. Sure, there was the odd chance that Ghost just didn’t like it at all, but you really wanted to hear his explanation if he’d give you one.

The Lieutenant turned to look at you and nodded stiffly. “Yeah, ‘bout always puts me to sleep.”

It was at this point you felt the slightest urge to tell him he’d never had someone give him a legitimately good blowjob before. But before you could even say something to the contrary, a thought crossed your mind. Ghost didn’t seem like the kind of man who attracted ill-experienced women. Especially when he had already proven throughout the evening that his previous encounters were much more interesting and expansive than even that of yourself. Something a bit… jealous rose inside of you at the thought.

Imagining your Lieutenant laying on his back and hardly making any sort of sound while someone pulls out every single trick in their arsenal to make a blowjob somewhat entertaining or arousing. You didn’t necessarily profess yourself to have a crush on Ghost, due to just how grey the line between operators and anything felt when you spent so much time together under high-stress environments. There was bound to be some level of emotional attachment that devolved past… professional. And for whatever it was, knowing that Ghost had such a bad opinion on the receiving end of pleasure became a challenge you wanted to overcome.

About that time, Price returned with half-melted ice and a half-smoked cigar hanging between his lips.

“Finished talking about chasin’ tail yet?” He grumbled, walking past the group of you still sitting around each other like a bunch of kids getting caught staying up late by Dad at a sleepover. “Wanna go to fuckin’ sleep.”

He dropped the ice bucket down on the dresser with a little thud before settling himself down on the pull-out couch with his hat covering his eyes and both arms resting behind his head with that cigar still puffing smoke rings into the air. Ghost was the first to stand up, making his way out of the hotel room without as much as a comment about when he’d be back or where he was going. Your eyes trailed over his shoulders tapering into a slim waist before giving way again to thick and muscular thighs enhanced by all of gear still strapped to his body. His kit did leave a lot to the imagination. And god did your mind start to wander as both Soap and Gaz began winding down, settling themselves down to sleep for the night or at least lay somewhere quietly so the Captain didn’t lose any more of his patience and kick someone out or force them to pay for their own room. Not nearly tired enough with all of the questions and thoughts about Ghost now floating through your mind, you didn’t care the least bit about laying down or pretending not to care about the fact of the matter and headed out of the hotel room after the Lieutenant as Soap turned out the final lamp in the corner of the room.

The air was a bit cold outside without your jacket, breath materializing in front of you in light wisps of fog with every exhale as you looked down both ends of the hallway hoping to see some sign of where Ghost might’ve gone to. Down on the far left side, a larger cloud of smoke blew past the breezeway entrance and you knew right away that Ghost would be at the end of it. And when your eyes peeked around the corner, you weren’t the least bit surprised to see him with a shoulder resting up against the wall; his back to you with enough of his mask pulled up so that he could smoke a cigarette. The sweet vanilla and cherry smell hit you like a wall, reminding you that Ghost preferred rolling his own cigarettes and used pipe tobacco instead of buying packs of anything else.

Leaves no trace behind… He’d explained without prompting one night after noticing that you’d been watching him.

“Followin’ me now?” His voice heavy with smoke and unhindered by his mask landed directly on you, not even needing to turn around to know you were the one tailing after him.

“Couldn’t let you freeze to death alone.” You reply with a little smile, taking it as your chance to go ahead and walk -slowly- over to him giving him the privacy to smoke without needing to fuss with keeping his face covered.

By standing just at his back leaning against the wall, he knew right where you were, and it put the weight of conversation on him for the moment. He gave you a gruff sort of sound and took another drag off his cigarette before turning just far enough to offer it to you. You take it from his gloved fingers carefully, licking your lips a little in slight nervousness. This wasn’t the first time he’d offered you a hit, but it was the first time you’d ever actually taken him up on it. Seeing the damp rolling paper on the end made you shiver a little; Hopefully, the cold weather would be a good enough excuse to keep him from recognizing your sudden anxiety around him. Wrapping your lips around it and inhaling, you’re a little more than guilty for noticing the taste of Ghost instead of the vanilla and cherry. With a quick glance to your side, you saw his mask was pulled back down over his mouth and his dark eyes were focused right on you as you blew the smoke out of your mouth and back in through your nose. Attempting to hand it back, he just shakes his head.

“You didn’t come out here to be cold,” He finally broke the silence. “What’d you really want from me?”

No matter how long you spent around Ghost, you never got used to just how miserably direct Ghost could be. Like nothing was truly surprising to him or worth being the least bit delicate over. Even if it concerned someone -like yourself- at least attempting to be a little more discretionary. Yet you sighed and took another drag before tossing the rest of it down on the concrete, putting out the ember with the toe of your boot.

“Were you lying earlier?” Your question falls a little short of confident, giving Ghost the impression right away that you were nervous. For a split second, you thought you saw the phantom of a smile under the cover of his mask before it was quickly hidden back under late-night shadow and white paint. Ghost put his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and gave a sigh, making more fog swirl around and through the woven material around his mouth. Another thought of what his mouth looked like flashed through your failing mind.

“Why would it matter?”

You licked at your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to word this without sounding desperate or downright shameless in front of your commanding officer… you shouldn't be thinking about doing this in the first place. So many more bad outcomes could come of this than the one good one. Even then, it was risky. Leaving you a bit dazed and staring at Ghost.

“Asked you a question. I’m expectin’ an answer.” He pressed forward, a slight swagger in his hips as he got closer to you, resting a hand on the wall and tilting his head a little to the side. Damn near mocking you for being so much smaller and easily intimidated. You look down at your boots for a moment, deciding to just put your money where your mouth is and take the hit no matter the outcome.

“If you weren’t lying…” You look up, internally screaming at how heavy his eyes look down on you. “I’d like to try and change your mind.”

A deep chuckle comes from the Lieutenant in response followed by his heavy hand resting on your shoulder, almost totally engulfing it.

“You’re jokin’,” His voice lowered with humor that made you almost shrivel up and die inside. “Why would I let you do that?” You give a frustrated sigh and take a step back away from Ghost. Mentally and physically distancing yourself from the slight Ghost had given you by accident or otherwise.

“Never mind.” You give a short nod and turn on your heel to head back to the hotel room and find somewhere to curl up on the floor or in a bed with someone and try to sleep off your damaged ego.

Yet five steps away from Ghost, you’re stopped short with his arm snaked around your waist tightly and his mouth resting against your ear with a heavy and hot breath fanning against your neck. His palm spreads over your stomach and squeezes almost aggressively at the soft flesh under your shirt. Tall and wide, Ghost yanks your back flush to his chest as a silent threat.

“Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me,” His low growl makes you shiver. “I’m not finished with ya.”

In an instant, you’re spun around and hauled aggressively with your back against the nearest wall with Ghost’s chest holding you from fighting back. His legs limit your ability to try and escape out from under his arms, and while one hand is flat against your chest, the other restricts both your wrists above your head. Breath evacuates your lungs with the sudden shock of your back against the wall, but your eyes are locked on Ghost’s as he glares at you harshly through the wavering mist of his breath in the cold air.

“Now I’ve got you pacified…” His smirk was clear in tone, outright mocking you by pressing those massive thighs tighter against yours. “Let’s continue shall we?” The gloved hand pressed against your heaving chest slides up to grasp firmly at your chin and jerk it up to look him in the eyes.

“Why don’t you be a good little thing and tell me why you think you could change my mind, and maybe… I won’t punish you for talkin’ shit to your superior officer.” He spat loudly, his face less than an inch from yours, eyes flaming with aggression.

“Sorry Lieutenant…” You mutter stiffly through the struggle of his hand against your jaw. “Thought I could do better.” You add a lot weaker, averting your eyes as far from Ghost as you can.

“What was that?” He made dark fun of you, terribly obvious, and downright happy with himself. “Say it again.”

You squirm in his grasp, only to get your wrists slid up higher on the wall and a thigh shoved between your own to lift your feet almost totally off the ground. Toes tapping the ground, Ghost holds you totally of his own power without the slightest effort needed to keep you held right where he wanted you to be.

“Thought I could do better.” You repeat yourself louder, and more clearly, feeling utterly stupid for enduring such pathetic treatment. Only you knew it was your fault for letting such a pipe dream of an idea come to reality by prodding Ghost about his sex life so confidently. The masked man hummed lowly, tilting his head as he inspected your face lighted only by a small sliver of moonlight creeping around the corner of the hallway.

“Better, huh?” Ghost chuckles darkly, this thumb tracing over the bottom curve of your lip carefully. “That’s a lot of confidence for someone so small.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Size has nothing to do with it.”

Ghost barks laughter, grumbling something under his breath before dropping his hand away from your jaw and releasing one of your hands to press against his groin. You can’t miss his meaning from the massive erection pressing back against your hand and twitching impatiently when your Lieutenant squeezes your hand around it tighter. A growl escapes his throat and he looks up at you with almost evil eyes.

“Still think size doesn’t matter, little one?” He questions, one eyebrow raising above the hemline of his mask.

Your mouth falls open in shock. Not only because of the sheer girth of Ghost’s cock pulsing in your hand but realizing that he was actually taking your proposal seriously no matter how aggressive his mockery of you was. It shouldn’t have been so damn surprising when taking into account just how large of a man Ghost is. Surely everything would be proportionate, and his erection was proof of it.

Your face is enough to make Ghost chuckle. “That’s what I thought…”

It’s enough of a dismissal that thaws your speechlessness and throws you right back into the present with enough of the guts to speak up for your own desires.

“I can do it,” You blurt breathlessly, fingers tracing along the curve of Ghost’s dick and earning a lusty growl from him. “I can make it good. I’ll make it fit.” You nod your head feverishly in an attempt to keep your chance open. Ghost’s eyes widen at your desperation and his cock twitches hard in your palm with the sound of your shallow breaths and pleading eyes.

“You want it, huh?” He questions, mask moving like he’s grinning under it.

“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”

The moment his hands release you, you feel yourself sliding down the wall until your knees make a bruising thud against the concrete floor in front of Ghost. Your hands holding on his thighs without the slightest care that you were standing in the middle of a hotel breezeway where anyone could see you. A weight settled in your lower stomach with the idea of anyone coming out of their room and witnessing such a sight.

“My belt.” Ghost instructs a bit pinched, looking down at you with his chin almost touching his chest.

You’re frantic yet shaking as your hands slide up his thighs and begin pulling his belt loose, hearing that metallic clink as you pull the two sides apart with a watering mouth. No instruction is necessary for you to know where to go next, and as you unbutton his cargo pants, your free hand palms his cock as you pull down just enough of his waistband to expose him but not make him cold. Ghost’s hands help just a little, settling extra material where he prefers it, almost patiently holding up his own hoodie and t-shirt out of your way as you slid your hands under his boxers.

“Fuck…” Ghost mutters quietly, tensing when your fingers wrap around his base and free him from his underwear.

Your thumb smears over his swollen head soft enough to not make him jerk away with sensitivity, and you lick your lips at just how wet his cock already is from sheer anticipation. Hell, you were turned on too, practically dripping in your underwear at the sight of Ghost with nothing but a perfect dick exposed and ready for your mouth. The first lick is a teasing one. Flattening it over his head just because you couldn’t wait to taste him, gathering up his arousal, and making it a point to swallow with your eyes locked right on Ghost’s. You're certain it’s enough to affect him just by the way he grunts and rests both of his hands against the wall behind you to steady himself.

When your lips wrap around his tip and slide down towards his base slowly, you hollow your lips and suck hard. Almost mimicking drinking through a straw with both hands wrapped around his thick base to restrict blood flow, adding to his sensitivity. You feel his feet flex in his boots next to your thighs and another low grunt. It spurs you forward, sinking down further and massaging your tongue on the underside before raising back up to lick at his frenulum and repeating the process with quiet whines each time he’s unable to hold back some sound.

“Shit-” He hisses after no more than a couple of minutes, jerking his hips back away from you and moving your hands out of the way so he could tighten his own fist around his cock with a heaving chest.

He stays like that for a few moments, undoubtedly trying to stave off the pleasure you’d been giving before his eyes meet yours again and they’re downright hungry and raging with fury that you’d brought him so close without any extra fancy moves or those fake moans that porn always showed. With one quick movement, he stepped closer and tilted your head back until it gently rested against the wall behind you, his cock smearing your own spit and his arousal over your open and awaiting mouth.

“You look pretty like this…” He muttered, rubbing his length over your face and tapping it teasingly against your mouth. “You hungry for more?” You’re sticking out your tongue and nodding right away, earning you a tense chuckle and the feeling of Ghost’s dick sliding into your mouth while his hand cushions the back of your head from the wall.

“Let me feed it to ya,” He grunts. “Shove my fat cock in your mouth and fuck your throat..” He adds with a feral sort of sound mixing with an ever-thickening accent.

You moan around his length, feeling your jaw muscles begin to start aching when your nose just barely grazes his pubic bone and his tip touches the back of your throat. He’s thick enough to qualify as the largest you’ve ever experienced, but you’re not the slightest bit concerned about whether he’ll be able to fit. You know he’ll make it fit if nothing else.

And him utterly pounding your throat sounded so hot that you tried pushing further down on his shaft yourself. Eager to feel Ghost as deep in you as possible. Ghost obliges you, and rocks his hips forward slowly, easing his thick head past that ring of pressure at the back of your throat and cursing under his breath when a wet, gurgling sound vibrates around his shaft as you begin swallowing around him.

“Bloody, fuucckk yes…” His groans punch through the quiet air, far louder than he should be risking in such a public space. But he’s only getting started with this experience as your nose presses against his pubic bone, and his hand flattens against the wall.

“So tight… doggin’ me right where anyone can see.”

It’s the thought that had you so eager, and right away you felt just how much it turned Ghost on too. Because the second he said it, he pulled back just a fraction and pushed himself back down your throat, beginning tight and quick thrusts that made your eyes roll back. He kept a furious pace, growling and holding tight to the back of your head until you tapped at the back of his thigh a few times, and he pulled out with a loud grunt, giving you a moment to breathe. You panted, seeing a thick web of spit connecting your mouth and his tip before watching it break and drip down your shirt.

You’re about to tell Ghost… something. But you instantly lose thought of it when he’s bent down with his mask rucked up just far enough to smash his mouth to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth and practically eating you from the inside out. You can still taste the salty edge of his skin, and it’s almost heady to have his mouth mingling with yours and sharing his arousal between soft moans and heavy breaths. The kiss is long and feverish, but not near long enough before he’s standing back up and stroking his fist up and down his cock right in front of you like an unreal kind of dream somehow coming to life.

“Please.” You mutter a bit hoarse from the rough treatment of your throat, totally unsure of what you really want most. Between his mouth, words, and dick there’s so much more than just one you desired, but at least one of them needed to be delivered to you to attempt satisfaction.

“Open up, little one…” Ghost whispers face re-masked already, and it makes you whine pathetically, having naively believed he’d allow you just one glimpse at the mouth you’d just tasted. “Need to have more of you.” You’re totally happy to resign by leaning your head back against the wall with your tongue wetting your lips in the cold air.

Ghost starts painfully slow, holding your head on both sides of your jaw and teasing his head against your tongue and the textured roof of your mouth; indiscernible words falling from his mouth and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. You would’ve thought it was nothing more than your Lieutenant just taking his pleasure as offered. But the way his thumbs brushed over your cheeks and his fingers would occasionally rub over the stretched muscles in your jaw gave you the feeling that he was well aware of what you were surrendering to him. As well as how thankful he was to have you on your knees, and looking so fucking angelic swallowing and spitting on his dick like a dirty little whore.

“Let me - Wanna…” His rising breaths and steady strokes begin to falter the longer he thrusts inside your mouth, meticulously avoiding forcing himself deeper in disappointment; resulting in your whining and muffled complaints and pleasure. Had his hands not been purposefully holding you back to prolong the session, Ghost probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.

“P-patience…” His stammer made your chest clench in satisfaction. “Don’t - don’t wanna finish in your mouth…”. That breathy comment nearly struck you stiff as concrete.

You couldn’t believe that after this entire ordeal, Ghost was actually trying to end a blowjob without you finishing it the way you honestly believed it should always end. With you swallowing every last fucking drop that the Lieutenant gave you; wearing a goddamn smile bigger than anyone has ever seen. If he hadn’t been lying and head never impressed him, there wasn’t a chance in Hell you were going to let him finish anywhere that wasn’t down your throat. In a split second, you were shaking your head no and pulling back off his cock with a slight gasp.

“No, finish.” It’s the most demanding and certain you’ve sounded all night. “Finish in my mouth, Ghost.”

His eyes say it all.

They’re wide with his pupils blown at impressive dimensions and his thick eyelashes flutter as his shocked expression forces him to blink over and over again to make sense of you. Mouth and chin covered in spit, on your knees, and literally begging him to come in your mouth.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking filthy…” He mutters aloud, watching intently as you slide back down over him one more time and begin doing what you wanted to from the very beginning.

Bring Ghost to his knees.

It’s a moment before you have him cursing and holding onto the wall with both hands again as you push deeper and deeper until you're teasing the tip of your nose against him yet again. Unwilling to let him pull you off this time or prolong this. Deserving this release was the bare minimum. Not only did you want to provide him ultimate pleasure where no one else had, but you enjoyed every single bit of it. You needed this as much -if not more- than Ghost.

Heavy and twitching in your mouth, Ghost was teetering on the edge of his orgasm with stuttering hips and one hand sliding down to rest on your head. Not pushing this time, just laying at the crown like your movements were too much to feel with only one part of his body. Short pants were cut short by unintelligible words and strained attempts to say what you already knew.

As if giving your final approval of the idea Ghost had found unacceptable, you push him as deep as you could one final time; Hearing his loud shout echo down the breezeway as both of his hands grabbed harshly onto the sides of your head. Pumping stream after stream of his hot release down your throat you moaned deeply, feeling him gently rock his hips against your face as he rode down his high on shaky legs. You gagged a little as he pulled out, feeling your throat begin to burn in an unfamiliar way that had never followed you sharing a moment like this with another man. Only one look at Ghost’s cock right in front of your face was more than enough to reassure you he’d just been the one who gave you enough of a delicious stretch to feel for days to come.

Your eyes met his and a small little shy smile crossed your sore lips, contrasting the absolutely deplorable -and punishable- act you’d ever committed with a superior officer. Wordlessly Ghost tucked himself back into his underwear and neglected to button his pants back up before dropping to a knee right in front of you and pulling up his mask again to brush his lips against yours.

“Want to taste,” He whispered ever-so-softly, hands holding your head gently.

“Need to taste me inside your mouth.” He added, licking your lips before closing the distance between you for a second time. This kiss was still intense. Ghost controlling the pace and just how much dominance you had, which nearly came to zero when he licked into your mouth, groaning shamelessly. He could taste his release coating your mouth as he utterly overwhelmed you with kisses, licks, bites, and more moans that fell like honey on your ears.

You were the first to pull back for a gasp of air you’d gone full minutes without, feeling your own mouth and body beginning to feel a little weak with exhaustion not typical of a well-conditioned soldier like yourself. Your Lieutenant took note right away and rested his head against yours reassuringly, his nose touching yours.

“You’re too cold to be out here like this.” He whispered, pulling your cheek affectionately and wrapping the other arm around you. “Not gonna let you freeze after that.” He chuckled a bit sluggishly, kissing you again long and chaste.

He pulled his mask back down and gave very little effort to pick you up off your knees and into his arms without question or hesitation. Leaving you feeling like a treasured prize he’d won and refused to let out of his sight for more than a moment. Safe and protected, you couldn’t care one bit about the cold nipping through your thin clothes and resting your head against Ghost’s shoulder as he carried you back to the hotel room the 141 had already retired for the night in.

Expertly avoiding Soap and Gaz laying on couch cushions on the floor and covered with extra bedsheets, sliding around Price’s bed without bumping it, all while carrying you Ghost sat you down on the edge of the bed he’d been keen to claim as his own right when you’d arrived. You were nearly asleep just sitting there when he unlaced your boots enough to tug them off, pulled your shirt off over your head, and replaced it with one of his hoodies. Finally, he takes off your pants and nods for you to move up to the top of the bed, acting just as he would normally. But as he climbed into the bed next to you and tugged you back against him tightly, you realized you’d gotten a lot more than you bargained for.

Sure you might’ve changed Ghost’s mind about getting head… but you weren’t finished yet. Because Ghost was curling his arm around your waist and burying his masked face in between your shoulder blades like cuddling with you at night was the usual way of things. His fingers innocently traced the waistband of your underwear, and he radiated body heat that melted away the fringe sensations of cold on your body easily.

“I’ve made a decision,” He whispers very quietly so as not to wake the others. And you wiggle back a little closer to him, nodding your head as a silent acknowledgment for him to go on. Expecting him to say that you did -in fact- change his mind about getting blown.

“You’re mine now.”

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated

[yourtamaki]

don't wear your new perfume around zoro, he’ll fuck you till you sweat it all off

he can’t stand that fake shit, it makes his nose itch and puts him in a bad mood as soon as he catches a whiff of it. it sets his teeth on edge when you walk by and instead of smelling like sun and sea and home, you’re covered in something cloyingly sweet.

but he’ll never say a word to you about it, not when it makes you smile like that whenever you splurge on a new bottle.

he learns to deal with it in other ways.

which is how you end up folded in half, zoro gripping the back of your thighs to keep you spread open and pinned while he fucks into you slow and deep. you’re gleaming in the moonlight that pours in through the window. zoro tracks a bead of sweat trail down your neck and its hardly settled in the column of your throat before he’s bending low to lap it up.

he feels your laugh more than he hears it, “gross.”

“what, you want my mouth somewhere else?” he lets you break free of his hold on your legs only for you to wrap them around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back.

“if you stop, i’ll cry.”

“baby,” zoro reaches up to cradle your head in his hands, your cheeks warm against his palms, and waits until your gaze locks on his, “you’re gonna cry anyway.”

you always do when he loves you right like this, chest to chest, sharing breaths, grinding his hips in circles and giving your swollen clit the attention it deserves. when the tears come, like he knew they would, zoro laps them up, too. he’s earned them, hasn’t he? why shouldn’t he get to indulge?

the heat between you only grows as his pace picks up, chasing your pleasure and his with all the eager hunger of a beast smelling blood in the air. he knows you’re close when your arms come around to pull him in even closer, one hand between his shoulder blades, the other on his ass.

zoro cums with salt on his tongue and your nails dragging down his back, fucking you through his orgasm and past the sweet pain of overstimulation because he’d slit his belly before he left you wanting for a single fucking thing.

and when you collapse back against the sheets, sweat-slick and panting from your high, he can’t help the feral slash of a grin that cuts across his face. you finally smell right again, like yourself.

sun and sea and home.

[dollfacefantasy]

kinktober day 21 - sex toys billy butcher x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, sex toys, daddy kink, brat taming

Schlick. Schlick. Schlick.

The sounds of pure torture echo between the four walls of your bedroom. Each wet squelch taunts you. You hate them. Loathe them. Despise them. All because they're not coming from you. No, instead they're coming from the piece-of-shit, fake, plastic pocket pussy your boyfriend was thrusting into above you.

"You're so mean," you whimper, tears threatening to spill over your lash line as you watch the flesh-colored sleeve hide his shaft.

Your sad expression garners no sympathy from Billy. He continues pumping himself into the fleshlight while straddling you. His pupils are dilated as he stares down at your form, limp on the mattress between his legs. His lips curl into that smug signature grin of his.

"Maybe just a bit. But you like that, don't ya?" he taunts, "That's why you were throwin' a tantrum in the first place. Cause you wanted daddy to get you back in line."

"But you're not, you're just like bullying me!" you cry. The tears are no longer potential as they roll down your heated skin, creating wet trails down your face. Your lip wobbles, on the verge of another fit.

"Oh, it's not bullying, love. Just a little discipline," he says, free hand reaching out to stroke down your jaw and lift your chin.

He keeps fucking that stupid little toy. Pumping into it like he should be pumping into you. It's fucked up. Evil, dare you say it. Just plain cruel. It's almost as if you can feel the phantom sensation in your cunt that rests a foot below where he's thrusting. The imaginary feeling of what should be happening makes reality so much more excruciating.

His head falls back and he lets out a moan. He barely ever moans for you. All you get are grunts and low groans, but he lets out that beautiful sound for something that isn't even real? You can't take it. A sob pours from your lips.

"Stop!" you wail.

"Oh, what's wrong, sweetheart?" he coos at you. You love that tone when it's sincere, but right now, it's mocking.

You don't even bother with an answer. You just keep watching him with your glossy eyes and constant sniffles.

He looks so good too which makes it hurt even worse. His face presents an image of peace, his chest shines with a light sheen of sweat. His abdomen twitches as his hips piston into the artificial orifice. You reach out to grab him and try to get the despicable item away from him, but he simply leans back and tuts at you.

"Ah ah. Move again, and I'll make this punishment a whole lot worse."

So you settle back into your collection of plush pillows and watch. In your mind, you did not deserve this. All you'd done was backtalk and tease him in front of the others a little. You'd just wanted a spanking or even a slap to the face or two. You didn't think he'd do something like this.

However, in his mind, this was the most effective form of correction he'd found for you yet. He knew you, and he knew you loved spankings. You loved when he tagged you across the cheek when he was balls deep inside you. Those weren't true punishments, and after the constant old man jokes and ever-present bratty attitude, in front of your friends no less, he was in the mood to properly put you in your place.

He groans as he continues working the fleshlight over his dick, the sticky noises persisting over the sound of your weeping.

"Feels so fuckin' good," he murmurs. A sigh leaves him, and his smirk deepens as he hears the whimper you let out in response. "So tight and soft."

Your crying picks up again. "It's not better than mine."

He huffs out a laugh while his fist keeps moving the toy. "I didn't say it was, did I?"

"You're acting like it," you accuse through tears.

"'m not. Just telling the truth," he breathes, "This thing feels fucking great. Think I should use it more often."

Anguish courses through you and you throw your head back against the satiny pillow case. "Then why don't you just fuck it all the time instead of me?"

His free hand grabs your chin and makes you meet his eyes.

"Watch the attitude. You're not bein' replaced. You were a bad girl, and now you have to deal with the consequences," he reminds you. He feels himself getting close and bites his lip.

You know that face. Normally, it'd bring you joy, but now it just intensifies your agony. "I'm sorry," you sob and cover your face.

"I know you are," he says, softening the tiniest amount. It wouldn't be noticeable to the untrained ear, but you catch it. The slight difference keeps you from toppling over the edge or blubbering out the safeword.

His hand knocks yours away from your face with a tender touch. "Eyes on me. A few more minutes and you're all done."

"Fine..." you pout.

You do watch, but you continue to cry. That wasn't against the rules. You watch as your boyfriend fucks that dumb waste of space and mentally wish death upon whoever it was that invented these things.

He growls. The sound he always makes when he's about to unload, and then his hips sputter and hot ropes of his precious cum shoot into the toy. You bite your lip and try not to glare too hard.

When he's done, he tosses the toy aside. He leans down over you, lowering himself so he hovers near your face.

"Think you've learned your lesson?"

You nod, pouty expression still plastered over your features.

"Good girl," he coos. The words feel like a victory after the series of losses you just suffered.

He kisses your lips, pushing his against you gently. "Daddy loves you. You're still his favorite," he whispers, voice slightly teasing.

[kissitbttr]

Miggy getting babied by his pregnant wife?

hiii! i hope you don’t mind, i changed it a bit because I don’t want it to look too much alike on the other one! this one’s short, enjoy! xx

-

being a mother to a 6 month old pregnancy bump isn’t easy. if it was, fathers could do it.

and that’s what miguel had been learning through it all. seeing your mood swings shift in a span of thirty seconds, constant cravings for ice creams, kebabs etc, snapping (directly at him and mostly at him), frequent backaches and fatigue. he’s very much impressed how an existence of a human being living inside of you could actually change you as a person.

still, doesn’t mean he loves you less.

“ugh, i’d give my left tit for a big plate of mofongos and a fat ass joint right now”

the two of you are cuddled up in the couch, watching some lame old american tv show that miguel seems to find enjoyable. you’re dressed in one of his t-shirt and grey sweatpants. ones that you had claimed as yours despite miguel’s protest.

your husband chuckles, pulling you closer by the shoulder. “lucky you, mami. i bought an extra before i came home just for you. i could heat it up for you later if you want.”

a dreamy sigh escape your lips, reaching out to kiss his cheek. “thanks papi. you’re the best. what about the joint?”

he snorts, head shaking as his eyes cast down to yours. “i don’t think weed is good for the baby.”

“says who?” you fake a gasp, pulling back slightly. “it’s literally herbal! unless it’s contaminated with tobacco. don’t we have a stash up in the closet?”

“you finished them all, ma. basically rolling those joints with your pretty fingers before this happened” he points at the bump. “usted es avaro, mi corazon. barely left some for me”

a smile pulls up into your mouth, head resting against his bare chest. hand interlocking with his. “remember when we were celebrating our one year anniversary and got high?”

“ay dios mio” he groans playfully, rolling his head back. “don’t remind me, baby”

“it was so fun” you ignore the embarrassment creeping into his cheeks, grinning even wider when he tries to hide it. “we went to taco bell after.”

“yeah and i threw it up because it tasted like shit”

you hum, nodding along. “and decided to get shawarmas and fries instead because we weren’t satisfied”

“one with the small food truck in 133th street” he confirms, his cheek against the crown of your hair. smiling at the memory. “i remember you told me not to get ones from across that italian place that you like because we need to support small business. had to stop you from crying too much because you kept saying how unfair it was for rich bastards to keep open up restaurants when they have shitty palate”

his comment makes you laugh hard. his grip around your hand tighten. some sort of pride blooms in his chest when he sees you laugh freely like that.

“oh god i remember!” as you slowly recover from the laugh. “we sat on the pavement after that right? you kept telling me how you want me to be the mother of your child.”

“damn, why do you keep recalling all the embarrassing things i did, huh?” he asks jokingly with a deep chuckle. now his attention isn’t even on the tv anymore.

“because it’s cute! you were so cute!” he shakes his head once more, biting down a shy smile as you shift your body weight to wrap your arms around his neck. “my miggy is so cute with the ‘i want you to be my wife, i want to get you pregnant, mi amor. say yes please, please, pleaseeeee’”

you continue to mock his actions back then, watching him cower down at the attempt of you trying to mimic his voice. strangely enough, you almost got it right.

he has his hands covered his face.“stop that, princesa! come onnnn”

you respond with a head shake as a ‘no’. “ay, papi don’t be shy” you giggle, trying to pry his hands off. “come on. let me see my hubby. let me see him”

miguel doesn’t budge for a while before peeking in-between his fingers like a little kid, then slowly peeling his hands away, jutting his lower lip forward.

you gasp, hand over your heart. “god damn! you can’t be walking around looking like that! can’t have all the girls falling for the sexiest man alive”

he rolls his eyes, smiling at your compliment. “stop being biased, baby!”

“i am not! how dare you calling the mother of your kid a liar, hm?” you tug him down, letting his head rest in between your neck and shoulder blade. “my baby daddy is sooo handsome. i won the fucking lottery.”

“definitely the other way around, love.” he disagrees, hand coming up to rest on your bump. “you stole my heart the moment you walked into my office that day. never thought in my life that a gorgeous architect made me get down on my knees and pray to the lord up there to let me have you.”

now that makes your heart skips a beat. how could you compete with that? he never fails to make you swoon even after years of being with him. it’s like the butterflies never stopped.

“hmm now you’re being biased, miggy”

“nope. i was so sure that i was in love with you.” he then turns to look up to you, tone becoming serious. “my god, you were the finest thing i have ever laid my eyes upon, mami. was literally bending over backwards to impress you. and now? seeing you swollen with my baby just made you ten times more gorgeous than before. you’re the love of my life, mi amor. and i will prove it to you for the rest of my life if i had to”

truly, you had never believe in luck or hope. it’s something that never sits well with you. odds never had been in your favor and you believed that for the longest time. you were fine being all alone. you have a job that pays you well, great condo, a body that you learned to adore, a loving mother. four things that you have always been so grateful for. you wouldn’t change a single thing.

but when miguel happened? everything in your life had changed for much better. from having to do everything on your own to ‘i got this one baby’. sure, you weren’t exactly comfortable with it at first, because you had never been the one who had asked for help.

yet you learned to love it all because of him,

with a grateful smile, you trace your fingertips across his soft lips. beautiful red eyes not leaving yours, as if he’s afraid that if he looks away for a second he would lose you completely,

“you’re the love of my life too, miguel”

-

don’t forget to reblog and comment babes!! xx

[fanaticsnail]

Teach Me

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,000+

Synopsis: As a Dressrosian concubine, you were accustomed to receiving all kinds of clients. The one you looked forward to the least was Doflamingo. Not because of who he was or what he's done. Simply for one reason. He was bad at sex, and you were bored.

Warnings: Doflamingo x afab!reader, 18+, NSFW, MDNI, smut, missionary, Doflamingo only cares about himself, you are so bored, you are a concubine, minor choking, mocking, eye rolling, dub con (you're a concubine, but the sex is just not good).

Notes: my attempt at trying to get @bloglop and @discordantwritings on the Doflamingo band wagon.

Doflamingo is not the most thoughtful lover. His satisfaction has always been too priority. Never a thought about his past lovers’ and concubines’ satisfaction in the slightest, he'd rake his cock in and out of any orifice that takes his fancy.

And then there was you.

Defiant little you.

The ‘you’ that absolutely did not care whether you lived or died as he pummelled his cock into your plush pussy. The ‘you’ that was unashamed to roll your eyes and check your wristwatch for the time as he was balls deep in your slick heat. The ‘you’ that was bored as hell while he crudely attempted to cum in your tight little body.

The crude squelching of lube on his cock as his hips slapped against yours, alongside the gruff huffs and pants falling from his lips were the only sounds to ricochet off the walls and reverberate with the rock of the mattress. Every time he looked at that bored face of yours, he fell away from the edge that he was desperately trying to meet.

“F-Fuck, why can't-...?” He groaned, feeling his edge fall away from the pinnacle for the forth time since starting this session.

“Why can't you cum, or why can't I be bothered to fake it like all the others?” You utter, examining your cuticles and ignoring the sharp thrust Doflamingo pressed into you. Doflamingo growled, looking down and hovering his face over yours.

“Fake it?” He growled, “What do you mean, fake it? I'm a god at this.” That confession had you bite back a laugh, shaking your head and simply brushing aside his exclamation.

“Sorry, okay, let me just,” you wiggled your shoulders against the mattress, contorting your eyebrows in the center of your forehead and hitching your voice into a mewling whine, “Oh, fuck! Right there, right there! So good! Nghm-! Don't stop!”

Doflamingo’s eyes widened, his lips curling back into a snarl as you echoed the words and expressions of what he was accustomed to meeting. Fluttering your eyelashes and readjusting your body to its former position, you glared up at the towering man and smirked up at him.

“That what you're looking for?” You asked him, arching your brow and bowing your back to stretch it out beneath him. “Sorry, but this is so shit, I'd be more inclined to ‘boo’ in your ear than compliment you-.”

Doflamingo cut you off by bringing his large hand to circle around your neck, attempting to cut off the air supply to halt your words. You simply smirk back up at him, shrugging your shoulders and acting completely nonchalant about it.

You should be gasping for air, pleading for your life, begging him for his hot cum like all of the rest… But you weren't. You were looking right into his eyes and simply bored. That boredom and nonchalant glare had him seeing red. All anger and hatred pricking his skin and igniting a fire in the pit of his belly.

Did they all fake it? Was he not as good at this as he thought? How many others has he left sore and unsatisfied? Those absolute liars. How dare they!

Removing his cock from your pussy in one quick motion, he released your neck from his grip and sat you up by grasping your shoulder. Arching your brows in curiosity, your eyes briefly wince at the sting of your ill prepared pussy taking the abusive thrusts from the much larger man. As a concubine, it was your job to see things through to its end, and you were in a foul mood from being left unsatisfied by your three former clients.

You expected Doflamingo to kill you for this poor attitude you were demonstrating, and you just didn't care anymore. You'd had enough, and you were done with it.

Where you expected him to snap your neck and leave you to rot in your bed, you were met with the softest, feather light touch from the blonde against your hand. A whisper, barely audible to the ear, had your eyes growing wide in shock.

“Teach me.”

Taken aback, you recoiled your hand from his touch and shifted back towards the headboard of your bed. He turned to face you, crawling back over to your body and resting by your feet.

“Teach me, please,” he re-emphasized, looking over his glasses at you. The ruby hue of his orbs doeing in innocent circles almost made you want to vomit. Biting back the bile, you creased your brows and folded your arms over your chest.

“Now why should I do a thing like that?” you asked him, looking to where his hand gently caressed the top arch of your foot. The tender touch and the pleading eyes had you intrigued, but still guarded.

“Because I want to be a god at this,” he whispered softly, crawling up the mattress and tracing the contour of your shin up to your thigh. “I want to learn to give you pleasure. I want to be the one all of the whores in this house want to couple with.” He moved up the bed and drew his face closer to yours, “I want to be desired and longed for. I want to be the talk of the town for how much I can please a person.”

“And why should I be the one to teach you?” you ask, tilting your head to the side and looking at him through narrowed lenses, “Get someone else-?”

“-Because you're an honest little whore,” he whispered intimately, hovering his lips over yours, “And I want to wipe that boredom off your face and replace it with honest pleasure.” You roll your eyes at him and arch your face away from his.

“Why not just chase your own pleasure and leave like all the others?” you utter nonchalantly. He takes a moment to ponder, sighing and removing his ruby-hued glasses.

“Because I am not the ‘others’. I am Donquixote Doflamingo,” he professed. Placing his glasses to the side, he reached his hand up to cup your cheek. His expressive globes bore into your soul, his honesty and softness taking you slightly off guard.

“Now teach me how to please you so I can have you crying for me properly,” Doflamingo whispered against your lips, brushing them with his own in a soft and brief kiss. “Teach me how to make you scream. Teach me how to make you cum. I want it all. Teach me everything.”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane

[cameronsprincess]

— summary: kook princess. kook prince. perfect match, right? wrong. you hated rafe cameron and everything he stood for. and he hated you. so when your fathers spring it on the two of you that they’d arranged for the two of you to be married, both of your worlds are flipped upside down.

— CW: strong language, forced/arranged marriage, kissing, slight sexual tension, alcohol consumption.

— note: so sorry for how long this has taken me. i’m still unsure how i feel about it but i refuse to scrap it again. feedback is very appreciated! likes, comments, reblogs!

prev parts: one, two

series masterlist ⤑ taglist form

2 days later…

Y/N

It’s been two days since the encounter with Rafe at the Country Club, and it’s all I’ve thought about. He was drunk, that’s what I’ve been telling myself. He was drunk, and he didn’t actually mean any of the shit he’d said to me. Rafe hated me, just as much if not more, as I hated him.

I needed to shove his face, and the way he looked at me that night, down. I needed to get my head on straight, because tonight… Tonight I had to glue myself to his side and pretend to be happy. Pretend that I was madly in love with my future husband, pretend we didn’t despise one another.

But as much as I tried, I couldn’t. I couldn’t get the look of pure lust he’d had on his face that night out of my head. I couldn’t get the way his hands grabbed at my body out of my head. I couldn’t get the things he’d said out of my head. He was stuck there… Almost like he’d wanted to insert himself deep into my mind and make me trip over myself, wondering, waiting… Did he mean what he said?

I squeeze my eyes shut, hearing his low and raspy voice at the back of my mind.

“Baby, you’re going to be crawling on your hands and knees begging for me to touch you. To kiss you. To please you. You can act like you hate me now, Lord knows I can’t stand you. But even I can admit, you’re fucking gorgeous. And I know you find me somewhat attractive.”

Fuck. What is he doing to me? He is attractive, but I’d never admit that out loud. He’s a fucking douche, and he knows that. I just wish this could be easy, I wish I was being forced to marry someone I somewhat like… That would make this a whole lot easier, but no.. Of course my parents would set this shit up with the Cameron’s. My dad and Ward have only been friends for as long as I can remember.

Fuck them, and fuck Rafe. I-

A knock sounding on my bedroom door rips me from my thoughts, and I sit up fully on my bed, crossing my legs and saying, “Come in.”

My door is pushed open, and I’m met by my mother’s eyes.

“Hey sweetheart, you’ve been locked up here all day, are you okay?”

I fight the scoff that wants to come out, not in the mood to fight with my parents today. Instead, I put on a fake smile and say, “Yeah. I’m fine, just trying to keep my energy up for tonight s’all.”

My mother makes her way to the end of my bed, sitting down and placing a soft hand on my leg. I sigh, knowing this is about to be some long lecture I wasn’t in the mood for.

“Sweetheart, I know how you feel about Rafe.. But this is a good thing, okay? I’m sure the two of you can learn to get along, he’s not that bad of a person is he?”

I open and close my mouth a few times, trying to think of what to say, but my mind fails to think of anything. She has a point. He isn’t that bad. He’s just had a shitty life — Well.. To an extent.

His father was known to be a major ass. I’d personally witnessed the verbal beatings he’d given his son, not to mention the few times I’d seen Ward actually lay hands on him. Rafe didn’t know what it was like to be loved and in turn, didn’t know how to love. Maybe things would be different had his mother not passed when he was only eleven, maybe she would have loved him, and taught him how to love. But we’d never know the answer to that.

“Honey? You still with me?”

I lift my head, finding my mother’s worry filled eyes once more.

I nod my head, “Yeah sorry, mom. I’m just tired. How long do I have until the engagement party? I think I might take a nap.”

Standing from my bed, my mom makes her way to my bedroom door, opening it but stopping to answer my question. “You have about three hours, guests will begin arriving in two. Take you an hour nap, then get ready. Your dress is on the back of your bedroom door. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

She closes the door softly behind her, and I throw myself back into my pillows, letting out a deep breath. I close my eyes, hoping I can take a nap and not dream about Rafe and his fucking hands on me, I don’t want him to have this power over me, but fuck if he hasn’t burrowed his way into my head.

-

RAFE

“Rafe, we’re leaving here in twenty minutes!”

I roll my eyes, looking myself over in my bathroom mirror once more and straightening my tie. I just have to get through tonight, and then I don’t have to deal with her again for another few weeks. I could do this.

She’d been on my mind for the last two days though… That night at the Country Club, and how good she’d looked, how her voice sounded. Fuck, how could I have never noticed her like that before? How could I have always overlooked her?

She was fucking beautiful, and fuck her attitude, and the way she looked when she was mad… It had my cock straining for days. I hated her though, and nothing would change that. Not even good pussy would change the fact that I fucking hated her.

I clear my throat, straightening my tie for the millionth time before finally turning away from the bathroom mirror and walking into my bedroom. I make my way over to my nightstand, opening the top drawer and grabbing out the flask I’d had hidden in there.

Quickly unscrewing the cap, I tossed it back, swallowing as much as I could before screwing the top back on and shoving it back into the drawer, closing it. Fuck, I needed to use some mouthwash before I got into a car with my dad. Last thing I need is him bitching me out for drinking before we arrived at the Y/L/N’s house.

After swishing around some mouth wash, i grab my phone, wallet and keys, shoving them all into my pockets before inhaling a deep breath and letting it out slowly. You can do this, Rafe. It’s just the engagement party.. You still have three weeks until you’re officially married off to her.

I make my way down the stairs with one minute to spare, seeing my dad, Rose and two sisters all standing by the front door waiting for me. I meet all of their eyes, one by one taking in the expressions on their faces.

“Let’s go. Don’t wanna be late right?” I say slowly, pushing past all of them and out the door.

-

We arrive at the Y/L/N’s house within five minutes, their driveway and the sides of the street already filled with cars and the yard all the way into the house filled with people. I swallow nervously, running my hands up and down my dress slacks.

“You okay?” I hear Sarah say from the right of me.

I glance down at her, narrowing my eyes. She never gives a shit about me or how I’m feeling.

“Just peachy, Sare. You don’t have to pretend to give a shit about me.”

She scoffs. “I’m not pretending, Rafe. I couldn’t imagine being in your position, I’m just-”

“Look, I’m fine. Can’t be that bad, right?”

Before she even has the chance to respond, I lean over her, opening the car door and looking at her, my face letting her know to get out of the car. She does just that, exiting the car and smoothing down the front of her baby pink dress.

“If you need anything, you can talk to me. I know we don’t get along, but I am your sister, and I do care.”

It feels like a thousand needles prick at my throat, my eyes stinging from tears wanting to well up, but I don’t let them. Fuck, I need a drink. I nod my head at Sarah, thanking her before climbing out of the Range Rover and slamming the door, slowly making my way toward the front porch steps.

As I enter the house, the sound of music and chatter fills my ears, and I can’t help but wince. I’m used to this sort of environment, lots of people, music, the works. But it’s always people my age, and we’re having fun, not celebrating the engagement of two people who could care less about one another. Every last person here is oblivious to the fact that Y/N and I do not want to be married, fucking ignorant bliss.

I make my way into the kitchen, finding various bottles of liquor on the counter tops. I settle for a bottle of Whiskey, grabbing a small glass from the counter and pouring two fingers, tossing it back and pouring another.

“Do not make an ass of yourself tonight, son. I swear to God if you embarrass our families..”

I roll my eyes, slowly turning to face my father who stands so close to my back I can feel his breath on my neck.

“Don’t worry, dad. I won’t embarrass us. I just need a drink or two so I can get through this shit fest.”

My dad’s eyes narrow, but he keeps his mouth shut, turning and storming off into the house, probably in search of Y/N’s father. Good, hopefully Mr. Y/L/N keeps him off my ass tonight.

I toss back the second drink, placing the glass into the sink before shoving my hands into my pockets and slowly working my way through the crowd of people. A lot of the older men and women stop me, shaking my hand and congratulating me. I guess some people already know why they’re here tonight, shocker.

I approach the foyer of the house, scanning the length of the room when my eyes land on her. She looks absolutely beautiful tonight, shit. She’s making it really hard to not notice her lately. Why? I’ve been around her since we were kids, grew up together, and I’ve never paid her any attention. Why now? Maybe it’s because I’m being forced to marry her, so she’s been consuming my mind, or maybe it’s because Topper hasn’t shut the fuck up about her the last five days, ranting and raving about how “hot” she is, and how I should enjoy her. Maybe he’s right, and maybe that’s why I’ve been so infatuated with her these last few days.

Without even realizing it, I make my way toward her. My soon to be wife. The soon to be Mrs. Cameron, mother of my children.

“Hey.” I say lowly, my eyes scanning the length of her body in the tight fitting white dress.

She flicks her gaze up to my face, her eyes searching mine.

“Hi.” she responds.

I swear I see a blush cross her face, and I don’t miss the way she shifts back and forth on her feet, her white strappy heels clicking against the tile floors.

“So, we’re supposed to stay glued together tonight, shall we?” I ask, holding my arm out for her to take.

She hesitates for a moment before finally linking her arm with mine. A weird feeling erupts in my chest, and I shake my head, trying to shake the weird feeling.

We begin walking through the crowd of people, all eyes on us as we try and find our parents, knowing they wanted to go ahead and announce the engagement and wedding date so everyone can enjoy the rest of their night mingling and drinking.

Finally finding our parents, we slowly step up the stairs and onto the landing, standing between our parents — Ward and Rose beside me, her parents beside her.

Ward clears his throat, clinking a small fork on the side of his whiskey glass and getting everyone’s attention.

Fuck, there are so many fucking people here.

“Thank you for coming out tonight everyone. We have a very big announcement to make.”

He stops speaking, turning his attention to Mr. Y/L/N and letting him continue.

Y/D/N places a loving hand on his daughter’s shoulder, clearing his throat and speaking. “We have invited you all here tonight to announce the engagement of our two eldest children, Rafe and Y/N. We wanted to throw this party in their honor tonight, to celebrate two people becoming one.”

I discreetly roll my eyes. Two people becoming one my ass, more like two being being forced together so two companies can become one…

“The wedding will be in three weeks. Saturday June fifteenth. We hope to see all our friends and family there.”

The room erupts in gasps and cheers. A fifty-fifty of mixed emotions throughout. I notice Y/N’s hand tighten around my arm, her eyes scanning the room quickly. I take note of a few girls I’d slept with in the past, glaring at her. Fuck. I need to do something, these girls will eat her alive, they’ll know this is all bullshit. I need to try and make it seem real, but I don’t think Y/N is going to like my plan very much.

I slowly unlink our arms, turning her so she’s facing me and I cup her cheeks in my hands. She sucks in a sharp breath, narrowing her eyes on me.

“Trust me, okay?”

Her chest rises and falls quickly, but she squeezes her eyes shut and nods her head.

Without a second thought, I dip my head down and capture her lips with mine. The kiss is slow and soft at first, but I quickly deepen it, shoving my tongue into her mouth and feeling her body tense up underneath my hands.

She kisses me back, her body relaxing and melting into mine as the sound of the hoots and hollers slowly fade. There’s no one but us in this room. Shit, she’s a good kisser.

She finally pushes me back, wiping the corner of her lips with her hand and staring up into my eyes.

“What… What was that for?” she asks.

I glance behind her, seeing Jessie and Caraline rolling their eyes but stomping away. I can’t help but smirk at that, Y/N is the only girl I’ve publicly shown any affection towards, and they all know that.

I shrug. “I was saving you from being eaten alive by the bitches of my past s’all.”

She rolls her eyes. “Well, thanks. But I think I can handle a few girls.”

I can’t help but smile at that. She’s strong, she’s tough, and in three weeks, she’s all mine.

“I bet you can, but, you’re welcome.”

Her eyes continue to search mine, her hands shaking at her sides as she continues to stare up at me. God, my cock is painfully hard right now. I just want to take her up to her room and ruin her innocence, but I won’t. I’ll wait until the wedding night, I can wait three more weeks.

“Now, let’s go enjoy this party. It’s gonna be a long night, baby.”

RAFE TAGLIST: @drewstarkeyslut @princessslutt @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @sturnioloshacker @starkeysprincess @rafescurtainbangz @atorturedpoetx @redhead1180 @jjsmarijuana @romaescapes @kisses4angel @lovelysturnioloos

[blue-jisungs]

a laugh for a coffee

# author's note ... not proofread, sorry!!!! also this is based on a tiktok i saw lmao

# setting ... non-idol!haechan, barista!yn, grumpy x sunshine

# warnings ... yns kinda a bitch lmaooo but tbh a mood, i relate ;; swearing

you knew it was an awful idea. every normal person would know. especially a person that values money.

but mark, apparently, is none of those.

standing behind the counter, arms crossed on your chest, you let out a deep sigh. your overly optimistic co-worker just shook his head.

“come on, dude! some smile won’t hurt anyone!” mark whined and looked at you like a kicked puppy.

“you sound like a typical karen right now” you grunted and noticed the first customer glancing at the flier taped to the window. their eyes widened and they rushed inside.

“see! told you it was a brill–”

“hello, how can i help you today?” you cut him off, monotonically greeting the person.

“i saw the flier, so here’s my attempt: knock knock”

you just shot a side eye to mark, who grinned.

the flier that he hung up this morning (supposedly with consent of your boss, but that you’d argue) said ‘make our barista laugh and get a free coffee! :)’

so that’s why, right now, you’re obliged to answer:

“who’s there?”

“interrupting cow” they puffed their chest out. you already felt it in your bones that it’s just a bad joke.

“interrupting c–” you tried to bounce the line back, as the joke usually goes but…

“MOO!” they mooed.

they mooed.

mark started laughing and they send him finger guns. you remained unbothered, tapping your fingers against the counter. the customer scoffed and pulled out their wallet.

“you’re a tough one, huh? i’ll just get an espresso then” they smiled and you nodded, taking the order.

“come on, dude. that was good!” mark shook his head and you went to the coffee machine, ignoring him.

you were known to be the grumpy person, quite everywhere. whether it was your class, friend group, work environment or family. but that was your attitude, and it wasn’t even all the time. you just saved your words, not caring about bullshit. besides, it was mostly towards strangers. when you opened up to mark, he later revealed that he thought something possessed you. but not everyone has to be nice to strangers and fake laugh at their terrible jokes.

mark seemed not to understand that, though, and made it his goal for today to witness that happening.

you knew he won’t succeed. it would take a really good joke or a child falling to make you smile… not to mention laughing. especially at work, when you just want to get your shit done and money earned. if you wanted to have a job that’s just for shits and giggles, you’d work in entertainment.

“oh no, not me. her. yah, y/n, come here! there’s another joke for you!”

sighing deeply, you turned on your heel.

this is going to be a horrendous day.

you were expecting the end of your shift like a small kid expects christmas. minutes were running painfully slow, hours - even slower. it felt like an extremely boring class, when you close your eyes for ten minutes but it turns out it wasn’t even a full minute.

that’s how you felt; dreadful jokes one after another. at some point you just decided to zone out, planning your tomorrow day off. your mind just fished out the orders and isolated the awful puns.

“yo, dude! hi!” mark’s voice boomed in your ear sickeningly loudly (well, maybe because he was standing right next to you).

focused on making a cappuccino (who even orders those at 7pm?), the smell of freshly grounded coffee making you wonder if you should go cafe hopping tomorrow. carefully angling the pearl white cup, you poured the milk foam from above. when the cup was ⅔ full, you lowered the pitcher with milk as close as possible and reflexively wiggled the vessel gently to create a flowery pattern. then at the end, you flattened the cup and finished the milky masterpiece with a swift move.

“it’s amazing how she does that with no emotions on her face whatsoever”

“because i’m at work, you fuck–” you wanted to growl but your eyes shot up, meeting with a new customer “oops”

the guy giggled and shook his head.

you placed the beverage on the tray, next to a warm croissant with chocolate and mark grabbed it. leaving the space to deliver the order, you stepped to the cash desk again.

“can i take your order?” your voice was cold.

maybe it wasn’t the best approach for work but you couldn’t help it. especially today.

glancing at the customer, you realized it’s one of (many) mark’s friends. his brown hair was fluffy and loosely falling on his forehead, cutely matching with the beige hoodie he had on–

stop.

“what’s up with the flier thing? even mark texted me…” he started but was cut off by the canadian himself.

“haechan, finally! how are you?” his voice was a bit panicked, rushingly coming up to you.

haechan, that’s the name. or nickname? you’re pretty sure you heard mark call him donghyuck before. maybe it’s an inside joke?

“good, actually. i wanted to grab some coffee because i’ll probably pull an all nighter today” he explained and his curious doppio colored eyes scanned you. with the corner of his lips turning upwards, he thought of something “actually, you know… i’m a student and…”

your body language spoke louder than words because he pivoted and said something else.

“whatever. but truth be told, i looked up tips on how to make a girl smile. some were really creepy, dude. ‘tickle her’ or ‘make a silly dance’? like, what kind of loser came up with those? even worse, what kind of loser would do those?” he smiled to himself. that was true - he went through quora and other wikihows. if his plan - which was mostly just yapping - didn’t work out, he planned to do a silly dance. ‘chicken dance’ was what one of the sites proposed.

“i think you forgot to mention the kind of losers who even look up such tips in the first place” you huffed and mark’s eyes widened. that’s the first reaction someone managed to pull out from you throughout today. haechan saw his friend’s face and took it as a sign. “speaking of tips, you better hurry up if you want to have a coffee. there’s other customers in the line. by the way, mark why are you still here?”

“i, uh! sorry!” your coworker yelped and rushed to the other cash desk to serve other customers.

“so?” you cocked an eyebrow and crossed your arms.

“i bet you heard an awful lot of bad jokes, huh?” he asked, poking the inside of his cheek. mark was listening, somehow managing to also listen to the last customers’ orders.

“yup”

“shit, that was my plan a” haechan sighed dramatically and looked you in the eye “please don’t make me do the dance…”

the pathetic whine wanted to make you laugh itself. but you saw the pure unwillingness to do the dance… and you would never say no to humiliating a man.

and haechan seemed to notice that too. well, he also heard stories about you from mark.

“do the dance, haechan” you nodded, fighting a smile.

he let out a sigh, eyes locking with yours. there was a glint of amusement dancing in his americano-colored irises.

slowly shifting away, he started to awkwardly do the chicken dance. eyeing mark and you, pure agony on his face. it was just like a torture for both of you, really. but you noticed he was different than others and you finally cracked it out: he didn’t want to get a free coffee. he just wanted to make you laugh.

which he did.

with a loud snort, you shook your head.

“okay, you can stop. my eyes are gonna fall out…” you laughed at, well, the mix of events. him doing the dance, the desperation in his eyes and just the overall craziness of this day.

“no way dude, no way” mark laughed maniacally, the other customers’ looks judging the three of you.

haechan nonchalantly fixed his hair, as if nothing happened. then, he leaned against the counter.

“y’know what?” you asked, poking the inside of your cheek while smiling. “sit your ass down, i’ll bring you a coffee and something else. americano, i assume?”

haechan nodded and when you turned around to prepare his beverage, mark exchanged a shocked look with his friend.

you prepared a large iced americano and a cinnamon roll. on top of that, you wrote down your number on a napkin. maybe you’ll regret it, maybe not.

upon delivering it to him, the clock striked 9pm and mark told you to go, and as an apology for putting you through the torture today he said he’ll close up.

so when haechan discovered the phone number (of a girl he’s been crushing on for a month) on a napkin, you were already gone.

“told you that a funny guy–” mark started, leaning on a broom.

“shut up, man” haechan grinned, already saving your phone number.

masterlist <3

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @w3bqrl ,,

@eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @slytherinshua

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + seven

authors notes: so this one leaves probably more questions than answers, but there's also a lot of things sprinkled throughout, and all questions will be answered....eventually.

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

cw/tw: fluff, language, discussion of parental loss, brief (two line) flashback of aftermatch following csa, suggestive themes, ptsd trigger

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

masterlist

words: 8k

Solana: Are you busy today?

Normally, Roman would keep his phone face down during business meetings but with increasing communication with Solana, he’s leaned more on the side of having it face up so he’s aware when notifications come through. 

It’s not a priority. Just a…..preference. 

Grabbing his phone, he quickly shoots her back a text.

Roman: What do you need?

Before he can put his phone back down, those three dots appear. He keeps the thread open for her reply to slide in.

Solana: Nvm. I’m sorry to bother you.

Roman curses inwardly, barely keeping it to himself and not making the room of men aware of his frustrations. He can acknowledge Solana has slightly improved with her over–apologizing over the past couple weeks, but it’s moments like this that get him upset all over again. 

He fucking hates repeating himself.

But….

There’s that small, annoying ass, nagging voice in the back of his head that reminds him of why she’s always so apologetic, why she thinks her damn existence itself is an inconvenience. And he can’t really fault her, blame her for years of trauma fucking with her mental.

Roman: You’re apologizing again. How many times I gotta tell you to stop that shit?

It could probably, definitely, be worded better. Maybe even a bit…kinder. But Roman is a lot of things. 

Kind is not one of them.

He then adds, knowing she’ll probably try to find another excuse to not be honest with him. 

Roman: What do you need? The truth, Solana. 

There’s an appearance and disappearance of those dots at least three or four times. He can picture her biting down on her bottom lip as she tries to word what probably is a simple request as best she can.

The amount of overthinking she does has to be fucking exhausting.

Solana: I was just gonna see if you could meet me at the library. I wanted to show you something.

Solana: But, it’s not a big deal! Please forget I said anything.

A couple of things strike Roman strange, two in particular. The first being that as soon as she says what she needs, the answer is an automatic yes. Like, it’s not even something he really thinks too much about, but he also chalks it up to a level of genuine curiosity. This might be the first time she’s actually directly asked him for something.

It must be important. Important enough for her to ask him to come see whatever it is, at least.

It’s why he doesn’t even comment on her second, follow up text.

Roman: What time you get off?

He can make whatever work.

Solana: It’s okay. Really.

This damn girl….

Roman’s jaw clench as he types out a text that matches his mood. 

Roman: Solana….

She’s giving him a damn migraine. He’s not sure why he doesn’t just ignore her at this point. If it’s that fucking important, she wouldn’t be giving him such a hard time.

But then the stupid nagging voice returns, reminding him that her even asking in the first place is a huge deal that shouldn’t necessarily be shot down because of lingering struggles that are probably going to be around for a while.

Solana literally has years of baggage and trauma she needs to heal from.

And that shit doesn’t happen overnight.

Solana: 3pm

Roman blows out a breath. Fucking finally. 

He lays his phone back down, not necessarily wanting to hear any pushback or counter arguments she might try to supply, fake ass reasons she wants to back away from her assertive request. 

Not happening. 

Roman: I’ll be there.

“Jey.” Roman’s deep voice cuts through the group who set their eyes on him. “I need you and Jimmy to handle the Barrett meeting for me.”  While the twins are annoying as shit majority of the time, they’re effective all of the time. Roman has trusted countless meetings with them, and none have turned out badly. They always get shit handled. 

His cousins both echo okayness with this change in plans, as expected. The same way Roman expected his Wise Man to be the one with questions.

“My Tribal Chief, we’ve had this meeting scheduled for weeks. What could possibly be more important?”

It’s a fair question, Roman isn’t too stubborn to admit that. But, it’s also not a question that applies. Again, it’s not that Solana is important, per se, it’s just that if his alternative is dealing with Barret’s loquacious business dealings, he’d prefer Solana.

He’s also partially intrigued by the mere fact she’d even had the balls to ask something of him in the first place. It’s promising. Assertiveness has always been more attractive to him than passiveness. 

Roman’s answer is both simple and vague. “I have somewhere to be.”

“But—”

“Wise Man.”

Paul’s childlike smile deepens suddenly, as if he’s been picked to be fucking line leader. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“Who’s the Tribal Chief?”

Rikishi is the only one to offer a visible reaction, hiding his chuckle. He knows exactly where this is going, even if his decades old friend does not. 

“Y–you are, my Tribal Chief.”

Romans voice is sharp and lethal. “So why the fuck are you asking me to answer to you?”

Paul’s expression pales. “I would never, my—”

“Sound like it to me,” Jimmy’s messy ass chimes in. He looks at Jey. “What you think, Uce?”

“Sound like it to me too.” Jey, as expected, agrees. Only for him to nearly fall back in his seat when he jumps up so both feet are on the expensive ass leather. Roman is annoyed all over again for a new reason. “Ayo, Uce, ya’ll got a rat problem!”

At that, Jimmy is twinning with his brother in more than just appearance, also with his feet off the floor and onto the leather chair. Roman hopes they both fall over and break their goddamn necks. Rikishi can handle Barrett just fine.

“Ain’t you like a goddamn billionaire? How the hell you got Stuart Little and his fam running around your crib!”

Roman’s gaze follows the line of vision the twins are so damn focused on only to be met with Dulce calmly walking past both of them to sit in front of him, looking up with a tilted head. 

She’s clearly looking for Solana. 

And he knows this because it’s become a bit of a habit. If he’s home and she’s not, Dulce’s nosy ass seems to seek him out as if he’s supposed to magically make her owner appear. It’s not something he’s brought up to Solana, because he knows she would just freak the fuck out and over apologize for Dulce “bothering” him. 

And that’s not the case. 

It’s a bit annoying, but it’s not a bother.

His staff keep an eye out for her when Solana works, and he’s even seen Solana come back to the house on her lunch breaks to check in Dulce, so he doesn’t mind. She’s keeping up her end of the deal, being the primary caretaker for the puppy. 

“That’s Solana’s dog.”

Jimmy’s bewildered gaze is on him. “This a dog?”

“Yes.”

“You let her get a dog? Like a real ass dog?”

“You fucking see her, don’t you?” At that moment, Dulce calmly lays down on the floor next to Roman’s feet which are literally bigger than her small ass. It’s followed up by Paul starting to sneeze. 

Jey, who is now sitting back in his chair like a normal human being, points out, “man, you hate dogs.”

Naturally, Roman goes a bit on the defense, shoulders straightening. “I don’t hate them.”

Jimmy makes a sound, also with his feet planted on the ground. “Bruh, you literally use to tell us when we was growing up, ‘I hate dogs.’ That’s why we started calling you Big Dog, cause it was funny to see you get all mad and shit.”

Roman may or may not remember that, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to acknowledge it. Besides, he’s allowed to change his mind. Hate was always probably too strong of a word to use anyway. 

There are a lot of things Roman hates, even more people that he hates, but dogs are not on the list. 

It was more irritation than anything.

“Whatever.”

“What’s her name?” Rikishi asks, bending over his chair to try to catch Dulce’s attention.

Roman watches the puppy gradually make her way over his cousin, ears dropping as he gently rubs the top of her head. “Dulce.”

“Dul–what?”

This…..this is why Roman is on high blood pressure medication, why Dr. Michaels recommended he start wearing one of those smart watches to monitor his heart rate and other shit. Not that he did it.

“Dulce. It’s Spanish.”

“Aw man, why you ain’t say that in the beginning?” Jimmy turns to Jey. “The dog only speak Spanish.” He looks over at his dad who now has Dulce in his lap, continuing to pet her. Roman rolls his eyes. This dog is a damn attention whore, just like he predicted. “Hola, lil’ chalupa.”

Jey punches his brother on the arm. “Uce, you can’t be saying that kind of shit. It’s racist.”

“No, it’d be racist if I called the dog Taco Bell since her mama half Mexican, but I ain’t do that shit, cause I like Soso.”

“Stop calling her that.” 

Jimmy avoids Roman’s warning and proceeds to ask with all of the intrigue. “So not only did you let her bring a dog up in here, but you let ole’ girl pick a rat for said dog?”

Already irritated and on edge, Roman isn’t sure why Jimmy’s question irritates him as much as it does, and not even because it's a question that’s being posed when he’s trying to review a contract. It’s that Jimmy is questioning Solana’s decision in general.

He answers as calmly as he’s capable of responding. Roman also notices that Paul is red as a tomato as he pulls out an Epipen. Roman easily brings his focus back to Jimmy. “It’s what she wanted.”

“Should have got a big dog,” Jey suggests, hovering over by Rikishi as he tries to interact with Dulce whose eyes are fluttering closed. Roman swears this damn dog sleeps 23 out of the 24 hours in the day. 

That answer is simple, Roman grabbing a pen to sign off on the contract in front of him. It’s satisfactory enough. “She’s scared of them.”

“What is she not scared of?”

But that comment, for whatever reason, is what makes him snap. “Get out.”

Both the twins are unfazed, but it seems to trigger something for them as Jimmy exclaims, “I forgot!” He looks over at Jey, reminding. “Remember, Soso made some extra food for us.”

“Oh shit, she sho’ did!” 

Roman makes a mental note to write Solana about that. It’s not her job to keep feeding his grown ass, married ass cousins. 

The two bid their farewell, Jey shouting out as his parting term, “yeet!”

“Stop doing that,” Roman calls after their retreating forms as Paul also excuses himself for some air. 

Maybe he really is allergic to dogs. 

Rikishi stands up and walks over to him, still holding Dulce but not saying anything. He’s just looking like he wants to say something. Another of Roman’s pet peeves, of the many.

With a mutter and scowl, he asks, “what?” 

His cousin simply shrugs, nonchalantly commenting. “The girl is growing on you, Uce.” It’s an assessment, for certain.

However, Roman has zero desire to have this conversation with his older cousin, or anyone, in general. Hence, his vague ass reply of, “she’s tolerable.”

Because that’s the truth. Solana is neither amazing nor insufferable. She’s in a pretty balanced space between the both: tolerable.

Rikishi gives him that sly ass look that makes Roman want to punch him in his fucking face. “E tua le fale tele i le faleo’ o.”

It’s an old Samoan proverb that means “Even the mighty need others.”

Instantly, Roman’s gaze is cutting. “I don’t need anyone.” He never has, and he never will.

Rikishi just offers a knowing smile, lowering Dulce back to the ground and placing a hand on Roman’s shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “Of course not, Uce. Of course not.” The older man says nothing else, just walking out, Dulce returning back to stand by Roman’s feet, head up, staring at him.

He rolls his eyes, murmuring as he gets back to work. “She’ll be home later.” 

Dulce barks in response. 

________

The minute Roman pulls up to Solana’s job, sees the expression on his cousin’s face, he knows something is up.

Solo may have a dangerously good poker face, but Roman invented that shit. 

He got the blueprint from Roman. 

Solana is sitting near the front of the building, surrounded by fucking children as she reads some basic ass book that they’re all clearly eating up based upon how they can’t seem to take their eyes off her.

Roman isn’t entirely indifferent, instantly taking note of her outfit, more colorful, less covered. It reeks of Naomi’s influence, but in a good way. 

As always, she looks good, better than good.

Not wanting to interrupt, Roman motions for a few of his men to take Solo’s place as he gestures for his younger cousin to follow him.

As soon as they’re outside the building, Roman gets right into it. “You got something to say, so say it.” 

Roman knows his cousin well enough to know that despite his brutal fighting abilities, the man is always careful and meticulous with his words. Unlike his hot headed older brother, Jey, Solo always thinks before he acts.

It’s why Roman doesn’t think twice about the space between the issuance of his prompt and Solo’s answer.

“You made me your enforcer for a reason, yeah?”

It’s an easy answer. “Yes.” 

“You upped me in the ranks to prove myself, right? To earn my way into the inner circle?”

Roman is already bored with the conversation, but considering this is family, he throws a bone. “Yeah.”

“So just how am I supposed to do that when you got me playing babysitter to your new wife?” The turn in topics as well as increase in Solo’s volume does slightly, very slightly, take Roman by surprise. Granted, he does a masterful job, as always, hiding that surprise. “Any lower guy could do this shit. She don’t—”

“Solo.” Roman gives him that tight smile and scratches his beard, typically the last thing people see before they meet their maker. “You answer to me. You do what I say you do, and I say you’re assigned to Solana.”

Roman doesn’t know what’s in the fucking water for people to be testing him the way they are, but it’s really starting to piss him off.

Solo looks down, clearly embarrassed by this talk down but not enough to shut his mouth. “I get that, but—”

“Wasn’t she already hurt once under your watch?” Roman’s voice is razor sharp as he reminds the younger man of his failure. The memory of that fucking bruise on Solana’s wrist from her bitch of a brother returning all of those strong emotions. “I gave you a job, and you didn’t do it. She got hurt while under your protection. It’s because you’re my cousin, you're even still breathing right now. You know better than anyone I don’t accept failure.”

At that, Solo concedes, knowing good and well there is no excuse or justifiable reason. “I understand, my Tribal Chief.”

Roman does his best to chip away some of his anger at this outright disrespect as well as the memories of Solana hurt. He steps past his cousin, calling out over his shoulder. “And Solo, don’t think because you’re family I won’t put a bullet in your head for questioning me.” Out of the corner of his eye, Roman can see Solo still has his head down. “Fail me again, let her get hurt again, and I’ll put your ass six feet under.”

Roman doesn’t allow the conversation to persist beyond that, big steps taking him back to the library just in time to see the children disperse, whipping past him as Solana approaches. The wedges on her feet give her a bit more height, but he still towers over her, which is a usual experience for him.

But, it doesn’t negate the fact that she’s so damn small.

“Hi,” she greets in that familiar unsure voice, eyes darting from him to the ground. “Sorry—I mean—story time ran a bit over.”

He’s appreciative she at least caught the apologizing before he had to call it out. “It’s fine.”

She offers a tight smile and motions for him to follow her, which he does, just as his eyes follow the sway of her ass as she leads the way.  

He’s starting to really enjoy seeing her in jeans. 

She leads him up the stairs and in the back area he’d visited her before what seems like so long ago, finding that her bastard of a brother had manipulated her into being alone with him. The last fucking time that shit will ever happen.

She pulls a key out her back pocket and unlocks the door, informing, “I have to grab something first.”

He doesn’t say anything, just nods. It’s like she feels the need to justify every little thing she does. 

Roman watches her walk over to the desk, leaning over as she grabs him something out of her bag, a notebook, the journal he first found her writing in the first time he came to see her at her place of employment. 

She’s back by him, closing and locking the door. “Come on.”

Typically, if this was anyone else, Roman would have demanded to know just what the fuck was so important that caused him to have to rearrange his whole schedule. Granted, he can’t take that out on her, nor would he ever, when he’s the one who rearranged his whole schedule for her. She didn't ask him to do that shit. 

He did it on his own volition for reasons unknown. 

The walk to the next stop doesn’t take long at all, Solana soon sticks her key in another, unfamiliar door, opening and stepping aside but directing him to walk in.

He does as such, naturally and instantly taking in his surroundings once she hits the light switch. It’s a room obviously, a previous storage room he would guess based upon the large filing cabinet lined against the wall to the right of him. There’s also another couple pieces of furniture against that same wall, like a desk and mini bookshelf, but that’s not what immediately catches his attention.

He’s instead more interested by the remaining walls that are essentially lined with larger, white bookshelves, all filled with a combination of notebooks, books, and journals. Completely filled. 

Intrigued but also confused, the latter of which is unfamiliar to him, Roman turns to Solana, asking, “what is this?”

Her cheeks redden, but she manages an answer that’s somehow not marked by as much stuttering. “There are all my journals—well,” she stops, giving a nervous laugh. “Most of them. Some are books I’ve read, and….” She walks over to a section that somehow seems different from the others, albeit lined up neatly with the rest of the items. Solana’s hand almost hesitantly feathers over the spines of the journals. At closer look, Roman can see they’re a bit dated and worn than the others. “These were my mother’s.”

Her answer surprises him, but he quickly recalls her sharing that she started writing because of her mother, because they wrote to each other.

She clears her throat and then turns back to him, sharing, “every time I finish a journal, I leave it here.”

Obviously. “Why here?”

“My mom started it. It—it was an arrangement she had with Mrs. Jensen. She worked here, and along with her pay, she arranged so she could keep her writings here and after….” Solana starts to hesitate, and Roman can see it’s because emotion is brewing. Just gently bubbling under the surface. “After she died, I kept up with it.”

Roman recognizes the sensitive nature of the subject and makes a subtle effort to change the topic on her behalf. “You’ve really written in all of these?” It’s impressive. He has to give her that. The thought of writing in general has never appealed to him, so for her to have a room full of journals she’s completed is fucking impressive. 

She nods, adding sheepishly, “filled em’ up.” Solana then takes the one in her hand, lifting it a bit. “Finished this one this morning.” He watches her squeeze it into a row that’s probably already being pushed to the limit.

She’s going to run out of space eventually.

She’ll need something bigger, sooner rather than later. Roman compartmentalizes this for a later date and time to navigate.

“You keep em’ here to hide them also, don’t you?”

“They can never know what I’ve written….” She doesn’t need to say who they are. It’s more than obvious. It’d be a sure death wish. “I just—-I know you said you’d write for now and it’s been almost a month, but—but I—I figured if you knew just how important and helpful writing is to me—”

“Solana.” There’s no need for her long ass, drawn out explanation. He understands now why she wanted him to see this space, the goal behind the request. “We’ll write as long as you need it.”

He watches her shoulders drop, a sign of relief. She bites back a smile he wouldn’t be opposed at seeing. She looks even better when she’s smiling. “Thank you.”

He only nods, and Solana finds herself taking him in. 

All of him.

In recent weeks, she’s discovered yet another newfound difficulty and source of anxiety for herself. And that new addition would happen to be in the form of the 6’3 man before her.

Roman has always made her nervous, for a variety of good and valid reasons, but recently, the cause of that anxiety has shifted to something else, something a bit on the unfamiliar side for her, or rather something she hasn’t really had to think about since her last disastrous relationship.

Attraction

Solana has come to terms with the fact that she’s attracted to Roman, yes, but also that she hasn’t the slightest clue of what to do about and with that said attraction.

It’s always been there, to a certain extent, but it was more dormant, something she knew was present but voiceless and nameless, almost invisible.

Now, in interacting and engaging with him more, it’s formed more defining characteristics, creating a sense of butterflies in her stomach whenever his smoldering gaze falls on her or when he says something to her, that deep, baritone voice sprouting goosebumps on the back of her neck.

It also doesn’t help that he’s indicated a couple of different times now that he also finds her attractive, or pretty, beautiful even.

That he thinks she looks good.

None of that makes sense to Solana nor can she understand why he would believe any of those things, but she would never make him out to be a liar, so it must be true, to some extent.

And therein lies the dilemma. 

One of many that exist in her life.

How she’s supposed to balance attraction with fear, desire with aversion, peace with trauma. It’s all a muddled mess. 

“Solana.”

“Sorry.” He only has to sigh one time for her shoulders to sulk, but instead of apologizing, she points out in a small voice. “It’s—it’s a habit.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a fucking habit to break.” His irritation is palpable, and Solana feels even smaller around him, like she’s done something wrong. “It’s not you I’m annoyed with.”

“Oh.” And that genuinely surprises her. In Solana’s experience, she’s always been the source of people’s, especially the men in her life, exasperation. But before she can step out of her comfort zone and ask him what’s wrong, he informs her of something that completely makes her emotions flip and twirl into a puddle of distress.

“Your father called for you today.” And just like that, any sense of relation and ease she’d achieved is dissipated, replaced with growing unrest. “Relax…” It’s not missed upon Solana how Roman’s tone quickly and almost easily jumps from irritated to almost soothing, like he’s trying to calm his nerves. “I told him to fuck off.”

That doesn’t make her feel any better. “He doesn’t like being told no.”

“And you think I give a fuck?” His deep voice is full of indifference and edge, but this time around, Solana knows it’s not directed towards her. He then asks, “do you want to talk to him?”

It takes her off guard. “What?”

Roman repeats himself with a surprising lack of irritation. “Do you want to talk to him?” 

Solana can’t remember the last time she was asked such a question. Been given a choice. Then again, it’s happened quite a few times since her marriage to Roman, starting with Bayley asking her something as simple as how she wants her makeup done. 

She doesn’t know what to make of that. Just another thing added to that mounting list of confusing and conflicting thoughts and feelings. 

“If you want to, I’ll allow it.” He quickly adds the caveat. “But not without me present.”

Prior to the past couple weeks, Solana would suspect Roman’s stipulation stems from a place of possessiveness. But now….now it feels like it comes from someplace else, something so unfamiliar and foreign. 

Protectiveness. 

It feels like he’s being protective of her. 

His proclamation from earlier returns to the forefront of her mind.

“I’m not going to let anyone lay a fucking hand on you.”

He’d also included a list of people he wouldn’t allow to do as such, including her dad and brother, which is why he clearly would only let Solana speak to her father if he’s around. 

It’s just the why that has her stumped.

But, back to the question being posed, the easiest and most simple answer is no. She’d rather not be around someone who’s only ever left her hurt, emotionally and/or physically. Or allocated that task to her brother. 

Not to mention the fact that the only reason he probably wants to talk to her is to discuss this nefarious plot she still refuses to allow herself to think about because it’s so inconceivable. 

“Not really,” she answers after what feels like forever, “but…”

Roman picks up on her hesitation. “But?” 

“Like I said, my–my father doesn’t like being denied.” And before he can protest or again reiterate his outright indifference to her father’s feelings, Solana adds in a quiet voice, “and I usually end up being the one to pay for it.”

Roman steps towards her, and before she can process what’s happening, his finger is under her chin, tugging so that her head is lifted, eyes locked with his. 

His voice lowers, quietly asking, “you still don’t believe me when I say I won’t let anyone hurt you, huh?” It’s rhetorical, sure, but Solana is too focused on the fact that this man is touching her. It’s as innocent as innocent comes, but it’s still touch, something she usually hides away from like the plague. However, outside of the initial shock and borderline discomfort, Solana doesn’t jump away, doesn’t feel the need to put as much distance between them. She’s almost….almost comfortable.

“I’m going to kill them both, eventually.  Fucking with them in the meanwhile only makes the outcome that much more worthwhile. But…” And the surprises keep coming, especially as he makes her aware of his intentions. “One word. All I need is one fucking word from you. That you want them gone, and it’s done. No questions asked.” 

Power.

Solana wonders if this is what power feels like, the ability to say one single word and have a life be ended. How she feels about those lives belonging to her brother and father remains to be seen, but even being given such an option, such an almost promise, it’s an indescribable experience.

Roman’s brown eyes, light and contrasting everything about him that is sharp and hard, study her. “You understand me?”

Naturally, she nods against his index finger that’s under her chin, demanding maintained eye contact. 

“I need words.” It’s a reminder from the infamous wedding night, something that seems so far in the rearview mirror now. 

“Y–yes.”

He seems pleased by this acknowledgment, enough to pull his hand away from her, Solana trying not to make too much of the strange sensation that floats in her stomach at the absence of his touch. 

Roman suddenly offers. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll up your security detail.” Before she can protest and probably apologize if she’d unintentionally indicated it wasn’t already enough, he asks, “you get off at 3 every day?”

“Essentially, y–yes.” 

“I’ll start meeting you.”

The surprises just keep on coming.

Instantly, she feels bad, shaking her head. “You don’t have to—”

“Solana.” This man must get tired of having to say her name, she’s certain of that. “I’ll meet you.” He says the same thing, but this time, she knows not to push back because it’s a done thing. “Just make sure I have your updated work schedule.”

“Wh—what about Solo?”

“He’ll still be assigned to you for any other outings.” This makes her feel a little better, that he’s not entirely rearranging and inconveniencing himself for her. “You ready to go?”

Yes. No. Maybe. There’s so many different questions she has with only a select number of answers, but in this moment, she goes with the one that feels most right. 

Especially with Roman reaching for her hand.

Nodding, she swallows and accepts his gesture, noticing how his large hand closes over hers, almost protectively.

“Yes.”

________

“That for me?” Solana looks up from the notebook she’s almost certain she’ll have filled and completed by the end of the month. Roman’s presence and question both catch her off-guard. She didn’t really expect to speak to him again today, especially after he already spent time with her earlier that day. She figured he’d had his maximum daily dosage. 

Especially after she’d already prepared and fixed dinner for him, the two of them falling into their now routine of him eating in his office, her in the living room before she makes her way out back to the patio where she either writes or, now, plays with Dulce.

Solana shakes her head, answering softly as Roman sits on the chair opposite her.  “no. It’s…”

“About your mom?”

With him now aware of the nature of some of her writing, she answers, “yeah.” Roman’s question triggers something she’s certain she intentionally never commented on because it was such a shock to her system that she really didn’t know how to respond. “When….when you said it wasn’t my fault….did—did you mean that?”

If she expected there to be delayed response or even confusion on his end, she was entirely wrong because he answers almost on the spot. “Yes. I told you, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

She’s starting to believe that. 

Wetting her lips, she informs in that same small voice, “no one’s ever said that to me before.”

Xavier’s unshaven face and dark, judgmental gaze is focused on her, Solana doing her best to ignore the pain that wrecks her body, the beeping of the machines and IV’s in both her arms. The throbbing between her legs is equally scary as it is confusing. What did they do to her, and why did it hurt so much?

He pulls the cigar from his mouth, dropping and stomping it on the floor, gruff voice asking, “why didn’t you fight back?” He shakes his head, spitting at the same spot that’s littered with remnants of one of many poor habits. “You’re weak just like your mother.”

Roman’s firm voice snatches her away from spiraling too deeply in dark memories of an even darker past. She does her best to shake away any sign she was about to dissociate when he surprises her for what feels like the 10th time today, almost quietly sharing, “My mother was killed when I was ten years old.” There’s a synchronous dropping of her mouth and stomach at the exact same time. “You think that shit was my fault?”

The answer is obvious and immediate. “No. Of–of course not. You were—you were just a kid.”

While her response is borderline automatic, coming from a place of pure logic, everything else is so confusing. Roman’s mother is….dead? Not even dead but murdered when he was a child?

Just like hers.

Solana doesn’t know how to process this. It’s not until this very moment that she realizes not once has she ever considered or thought about his immediate family, like parents and even siblings. At the wedding, so many people were present, obvious family members of his, but she’s just now realizing she never considered who was who. Were they all cousins, aunts, in-laws even? 

Where is the rest of his immediate family? Better yet, who makes up his immediate family? She’s aware of the twins and even his older cousin Rikishi, but is there not more?

“So were you.” She can’t tell if Roman intentionally works to redirect the focus back onto herself or if he’s unaware of the fact she’s suddenly wondering just how much about the man across from her she still knows nothing about it. “So why is it different for you?”

It’s an effective diversion and valid question that she’s never once asked herself.

“No one’s ever said that either.” Her voice is only a couple octaves above a whisper, and Solana finds herself sharing more than she’s probably ever divulged to anyone. “When I….when I’m writing, a lot of the times, I’m writing letters to my mom.” Having this conversation with anyone, let alone Roman, of all people, wasn’t on her life agenda. But, it seems like a lot of ‘nevers’ are gradually morphing into ‘actualities.’

It’s such a strange experience, too.

“Like I said, we used to write to each other, and after….after she was killed, I couldn’t find it in me to stop. I think at the beginning, I kept doing it because….because I didn’t want to accept she was gone.” The understanding and underlying emotion shifts to the surface, resulting in her quickly wiping at her eyes to keep the tears from falling. “Like I was waiting for her to write me back.” It’s not missed upon Solana how Dulce suddenly moves closer, tucking her body right up against Solana’s thigh. “And I’ve kept at it over the years, cause—she was the only person I could ever talk to.”

Roman repeats the same message he wrote to her, almost reminding her of a lifeline she’s gradually starting to realize is available for the first time in almost twenty years. “You can talk to me, Solana.”

And she is. She doesn’t know how and especially why, but she is, and as heavy as the topic is, there’s a hint of relief at finally having another living, breathing person to speak to and with about these things. 

Especially…..especially someone who can maybe relate to her. “How did you do it—how did you….move past it?”

It’s not the best wording, she’s certain of that. Losing a parent. Having a parent be murdered isn’t something one gets over. 

Solana knows this better than most, but Roman….he’s so composed, so together, so unbroken. 

So unlike her. 

His expression darkens as he answers in an eerie but calm voice. “I got my revenge, and I killed every single son of a bitch who played a role.” His delivery unsettles her a bit, but he seems to easily shift back into that almost patient tone she’s only ever heard him use….with her. “But, I’m not like you, Solana. You're innocent. My ledger bleeds red.” Solana doesn’t know what it looks or even sounds like for Roman to be uncomfortable, but his delivery in the next part definitely feels as such.  “I don’t….feel things like you do. You feel everything. I feel nothing.”

She whispers. “I wish I was like that, that I didn’t feel.” Because it’s true. Because it’s how she initially started to self harm, because she wanted to feel something other than emotional pain. Even physical pain was better than the anguish that racked her every day, 24/7.

He’s quick to shut that down, to tell her the complete opposite. “No, you don’t. That would mean you’ve lost that innocence you have.”

That actually makes Solana smile, chuckle, but there’s not an ounce of humor as she shakes her head. “I–I lost my innocence a long time ago.” Stolen. It was stolen from her a long time ago is the more appropriate way to word it. Stomach a complete freaking mess, she does her best to power through her anxiety at what she’s about to tell him. “Roman…..I—”

“Ayo, Uce—”

“What!” Roman snaps, Solana jumping back away from him, hypervigilance back on high and alert. He briefly casts his gaze back in her direction, and she can almost swear she sees a speck of guilt. Like he’s apologetic for scaring her. 

Jimmy, however, is unfazed by his cousin’s temper. He’s lived with it his whole life. Ain’t nothing new. “Rhodes men were on Bloodline territory—”

“What?” At that, Roman’s head snaps back in Jimmy’s direction. And Solana watches as any sign of Roman, patient and almost kind, is replaced almost instantly with that same cold, stoic demeanor that could strike fear in the heart of even the strongest man. 

He stands up, hands on his hips as he moves a bit away from her. Solana also stands, fighting her urge to move closer to him. 

Jimmy also presents with a seriousness she’s never seen in him, never even really knew he was capable of, to be honest. “We got three guys down. Another two critically injured.”

Roman curses, turning away, back toward Jimmy and her. He then asks, “you got a location on em’ yet?”

“Pearce should have it any minute now.”

“Good. Let’s go.” Roman nods, stepping away from Solana and in the direction of Jimmy just as Dulce walks over, clearly wanting Solana to pick her up. She must also pick up on the sudden shift in the atmosphere. 

Dulce in her arms, Solana finds herself calling for Roman. “What��”

“Not now.” His dismissal is sharp and sudden. It shouldn’t hurt her feelings, because it’s obvious he’s in an entirely different zone now, but it does. 

Solana sinks back into her shell of silence as Solo steps forward. “You want me—”

“Stay with Solana. She doesn't step foot outside this fucking house, you understand me?” Roman’s orders are indisputable, an almost sense of urgency in his tone. “Heighten security around the premises.”

Solana has so many questions. Just what is going on? Why is Roman so on edge all of a sudden? Who is Rhodes and why do they present such an imminent threat where Roman marches out the house, Jimmy on his heels without even a second glance at her.

It’s all so confusing. 

“You need to get inside.” Solo’s equally stoic reminder, command maybe, pulls her from her thoughts. And Dulce suddenly growling at Solo definitely redirects her focus.

“Shhh. It’s just Solo,” she comforts, petting and trying to calm the puppy who quickly upgrades her growling to barking. This also confuses the mess out of Solana.  

She’s not sure she’s ever seen Dulce both growl and bark at someone.

Wordlessly, she walks in the house, past Solo who she notices makes sure to lock the door behind them. 

“Stay in your room," he instructs, and while she has more questions than anything, his austere tone is more than enough for her to not push back. 

Dulce will just have to use the crate if she has to use the bathroom. 

Without another word, Solo carries Dulce up the stairs and into her room where she lays the puppy in her bed and Solana climbs onto her.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she grabs her phone and opens up the latest group text thread she was messaging in. 

Solana: Can I ask you guys something?

Their replies come in not even five minutes later. 

Bayley: Of course!

Naomi: Anything.

Without allowing herself too much time to overthink it, Solana sends out the simple question.

Solana: Who or what is Rhodes?

Solana: Roman just rushed out of here after Jimmy said something about Rhodes men being on Bloodline territory. I’m not allowed to leave the mansion.

Just like the start of the conversation, the replies come in almost instantaneously. 

Naomi: Fuck.

Naomi: Yes, stay put. Solo’s there with you, right?

Solana: Yes.

Solana’s anxiety is only growing. Naomi sounds just as intense as Jimmy and Roman were. 

Her follow up text doesn’t do anything to help the confusion either.

Naomi: The less you know, the better. The guys will handle it.

Handle what, though? That’s what Solana really wants to know. What is the story here, and why did this Rhodes person or group have Roman so wired. 

Just then, another notification comes through. From Bayley, but in their individual thread and not the group chat. 

Solana switches over, reading her messages as they arrive almost back to back. 

Bayley: Rhodes is a person, but…that’s a complicated story.

Bayley: And I'd feel bad telling someone else’s story, but what I can tell you is that Rhodes is Cody Rhodes, head to the Nightmare Factory, the Bloodline’s biggest opp. Tensions have been at an all time high for like two generations with countless bodies dropped on both sides. It’s always a bloodbath when they’re in the same vicinity. 

Solana is regretting even asking anything in the first place. Bloodbath when they’re in the same vicinity, the same vicinity Roman is heading for as she types. Her shoulders drop, anxiety starting to shift to a new target. 

Concern for his safety.

Bayley: If you’re somehow ever in a situation where someone from the Nightmare territory is around, get the hell out of dodge. They won’t hesitate to kill you, especially with you being Roman’s wife.

Bayley: Or Rollins. Seth Rollins. Especially him. Guy is fuckin’ psycho.

Solana: Rollins?

Bayley: Roman, Seth, and Cody used to be friends a long time ago, like way long ago, and it just….it went bad. Really really fucking bad, and Cody and Roman have hated each other since. Like, I don’t know if hate is even a strong enough word for how much they can’t stand each other. 

Solana: But why?

Bayley never replies. 

________

Roman doesn’t step back into the house until almost 4am. He feels every bit exhausted as he probably looks, more physical than anything, some mental, maybe more than he’d like to admit.

Dealing with anything Nightmare related typically has that impact on him.

Solo meets him at the door, looking as on alert as he did when Roman first saw him at the ass crack of dawn this morning. 

The first thing to leave Roman’s mouth isn’t intentional as much as it is unintentional. “How was she?”

Solo motions to the marble flooring leading to the spacious living room. “She’s waiting for you.”

Roman wasn’t expecting to hear that, and he’s certain it shows in his facial expression. “What? Why? Why is she still up?”

Solo shrugs. “You’ll have to ask her. She don’t talk to me.” Which is more Solo’s preference anyway. It’s his job to protect her, not be her fucking friend. “Everything good?” Roman nods but doesn’t say anything, still stuck on the fact that Solana is still up. “Imma head out.”

Roman’s response is as distant as his expression. He doesn’t care whether Solo stays or leaves. “Alright.”

Once his enforcer is out the house, Roman sure enough finds Solana sitting on the sofa, legs crossed, notebook in her lap as she writes away.

“Solana.”

She gasps, clearly taken by surprise, but when her head lifts and her eyes land on him, she untangles her legs and moves the journal to the side. Solana walks over to him, keeping a distance that makes sense for her. “You’re back….”

“What are you still doing up? Don’t you have work in a couple hours?”

“It’s okay.” She shakes her head, adding sheepishly, “I–I don’t sleep much anyway.” He knows this well. “I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Her eyes widen as she hones in on the nasty looking cut near the middle of his hairline. “You’re hurt….”

It’s really not until she says anything that Roman remembers the only “injury” he received from tonight’s bloodbath. “It’s fine.” He then redirects the focus to the main topic at hand. “Solana, you don’t have to wait up for me.”

She ignores him, actually ignores him and instead reaches up to feel the cut that’s maybe a bit more deeper than he realized because her feather light touch brings a bit of a sting. 

“You need stitches.” It doesn’t sound like a suggestion, and he realizes as such following her next surprising action. She takes his hand and leads him into the kitchen, motioning for him to sit down on the stool as she pulls out the medical kit from under the sink. 

Similar to the night of WarGames, she moves in between his open legs and starts tending to his cut, meticulously and carefully stitching him up.

She says not a word, and neither does he. Truthfully, it’s more an unconscious thing than conscious, like neither knows what or if to say something. Especially considering both are currently feeling more than what they know how to properly verbalize, or verbalize at all, really. 

“There….” Roman can tell when she’s done. She gently runs her fingers over her diligent work, her eyes focused on the source of her apparent concern when all he wants is for her to look at him, for her eyes to lock on him. “I think I’m—” And just as Solana goes to move away, to step back and clean up, she’s stopped. 

She’s stopped, because Roman reaches for her, keeping her near him.

His hand is initially on the small of her back, and Solana has the same experience from earlier. That initial tense feeling that quickly mellows into something almost calm, almost secure. 

She’s not sure she’s ever been this close to him, not since the last time she tended to his injuries, not since their wedding day, since their wedding night.

But unlike that last almost traumatic time, she’s not pummeled with anxiety, not paralyzed with fear. 

It’s just the calm. 

His eyes never leave her, bouncing back and forth between her eyes and lips. He then says in a low voice that’s unlike anything she’s heard from him before. “Solana….”

There’s something different about the way he says her name, something more sincere, something almost….vulnerable. 

Roman suddenly has both hands on her hips, holding her, just as her nervous hand moves to lay her palm against his chest. 

His eyes instantly shut at her touch. Interactions with anything regarding Rhodes have always done something to Roman emotionally, but it’s always been something he can manage relatively well. Something simple and easy. There’s nothing simple and easy about whatever the fuck is coursing through him at having her so close to him, having her touch, soft and unsure as the expression in her eyes. 

She doesn’t know what to make of his eyes closing nor does she have time to consider what to make of that because an image, a flashback of a different kind of touch, a much more painful, visceral touch shoots to the forefront of her mind.

And her chest starts tightening, that fear drawing back up. 

“I–I can’t.” Because as much as some part of her, albeit big or small, likes this, likes being close to him, feels safe being this close to thim, another part, much larger and much stronger, can't handle being this close to him. “I’m sorry.” Eyes watering, she breaks away, Dulce is quickly behind her, Solana reaching to hold the puppy as she dashes up the stairs. 

Roman sits unsure, confused, angry. He stands up, pacing across the floor, hands up and on the side of his head before his fist slams against the refrigerator door. He curses, but not from the blow. That shit doesn’t hurt. 

His reaction and frustration is directed solely toward the fact that he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s feeling right now.

The same thing Solana is struggling with as she sits on her bed, legs pulled up to her chest, silently crying into her thighs.

Both of them wondering the same exact thing:

What the hell just happened?

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Nov 11th

~*~

1. hi this is for itmf!

I'd like to request fics focusing on/from the pov of Nie brothers! anything like nhs conspiring to save nmj or nmjs thought process. would be nice if nhs was also friends with wwx and they were sort of working together!

thank you @bunnycoffeeumcat

The Threads of Fate by WaitForTheSnitch (E, 86k, WangXian, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Not Everyone Dies, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Good Uncle LQR, Protective LWJ, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Pining LWJ, WWX in WWX's Body, JC & WWX Reconciliation, is it reconciliation if WWX doesn't know they were estranged?, Oblivious WWX, WWX Deserves Better, WWX Deserves Happiness, Siblings JC & WWX, Supportive JYL, Protective NHS, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Comic Book Science)

This Time Around by KouriArashi (T, 83k, JGY & NHS, NHS & WWX, JGY & WWX, Time Travel Fix-It, Kid Fic, Families of Choice, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Politics, Class Issues, Past Child Abuse, Moral Ambiguity, Everybody Lives, Eventual Happy Ending)

Heart of the Beast by WaitForTheSnitch (E, 488k, WangXian, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Adopted WWX, WWX is a Niè, Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Oblivious WWX, Protective NMJ, Scheming NHS, Protective NHS, Soft NMJ, NMJ is So Done, NHS Is A Little Shit, Pining, LWJ Has Feelings)

shades of grey spill from my veins (bleeding ink all over the page) by Reverie (cl410) (M, 58k, NieLan, WangXian, SangNing, POV NMJ, Canon Divergence, Joining the “Wei Wuxian raised by the Nie Sect” Club, Mentions of WWX’s life on the streets, Hurt/Comfort, Accidental Sibling Acquisition, Single Dad NMJ, NHS & WWX Friendship, Fluff, Humor, Happy Ending, Everyone Lives AU, Protective NMJ, Sunshot Campaign, Some angst, Blood and Injury, Kidnapping, Protective Siblings, Found Family)

Third Sun by PhantomWriter (T, 57k, NHS & NMJ, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Crack Treated Seriously, BAMF NHS, Protective NHS, Protective NMJ, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, LWJ is a Wēn) Note that while one of the latter fics the the series explores true Niecest in a "what if" au, the brothers' relationship in the main story is purely platonic and co-conspiratorial.

~*~

2. in the mood for maybe yllz!wwx suddenly time traveling/finding himself in a world that has cleared his name?

🔒Confusion by Vrishchika (Not Rated, 4k, WangXian, Time Travel)

~*~

3. Hii! A) May I ask if you have any other aftercare wangxian fics ? Try a little tenderness was amazing! B) Also any fics with Wangxian cuddling or comforting each other when they cry or get sick (especially modern au). C) Also, anything modern AU to recommend? Preferably completed, though I feel like everything completed has already been recommended or mentioned before? Thank you SO MUCH!!

A Sure Thing by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 95k, WangXian, Modern, Sugar Daddy, Sex Work, Light Dom/sub, Aftercare, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Bondage, use of sex toys, boundary setting, Relationship Negotiation, many baths, Barebacking) fits a, b, c

3C)

spoke like we meant it by BlackWiresOnHerHead (T, 10k, WangXian, Modern, 5+1, Fluff, oh my god they were roommates, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Pining, Cuddling, Accidental Confession, Humor, Abandonment Issues, Light Angst)

Many happy returns. by orange_crushed (E, 25k, WangXian, Modern AU, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), Implied/Referenced Suicide, Past Suicide of a Parent, References to Depression, Anxiety, Therapy, References to Anti-Depressant Medications, Escort Service, Loneliness, Everybody’s Abandonment Issues, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Moving In Together, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, Hopeful Ending, Recovery, References to Escorting/Sex Work but No Actual Escorting/Sex Work)

Deep Dive by MimiSpearmint (E, 24k, WangXian, Modern AU, Twin Prides of Yunmeng Feels, Are Bad at Communicating, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Therapy, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Angst with a Happy Ending, Career Ending Injuries, counsellor!lwj, give lwj friends agenda, background NieLan, Melbourne, Eventual Smut, Crack, Baby JL, domestic abuse is discussed but does not happen, Baby LSZ, Baby LJY, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Good Sex Practices, Implied Slight D/s, WangXian Have a Breeding Kink, Cameos by various minor characters)

Close to the Truth by Winglesss (M, 14k, WangXian, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Romantic Comedy, Modern, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Tooth-Rotting Fluff)

Ticket to Ride by mistresscurvy (E, 18k, wangxian, Modern, Online Dating, Road Trips, Service Top, Phone Sex, Dick Pics, Wedding Banquet)

Previously, on LEGO Masters by trippednfell (M, 55k, wangxian, Reality TV Show Contestants/Judges, Modern, Mutual Pining, Forced to compete together, strangers to reality show contestants to lovers, there's only one bed, Platonic Cuddling, Autistic LWJ, WWX Has ADHD, Grief/Mourning, Wangxian miss their moms, so much pining, More Pining than LEGO in this LEGO fic, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, POV Alternating, Lego Masters AU, Not YZY friendly, Dysfunctional Jiang family dynamics)

Just Ask Me To Stay by mrcformoso (M, 20k, WangXian, Modern AU, Former JZ/WWX, Minor NieLan, Minor XuanLi, No Powers, Dancer WWX, Musician LWJ, Roommates, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Break Up, Post-Break Up, Recovery, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, Fluff, Light Angst, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, Domestic Fluff, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Has a Breeding Kink, Size Queen WWX, Belly Bulge, Porn With Plot, WWX Has Friends, LWJ Has Friends, Hurt/Comfort, A lot of comfort, Romantic Comedy, Cuter story than the summary makes it out to be, Feel-good)

The Art of Communication by mrcformoso (G, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Meet-Cute, Engineering Student WWX, Music Student LWJ, Swimmer WWX, Martial Artist LWJ, POV Outsider, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Communication Issues, But Wanxian Makes it Work, LWJ has limited words, WWX has too many words, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Love Languages, Requited Love)

~*~

4. Itmf, A) untamed au (where wwx and xue yang are aprox same age), they knew each other as street children but lost contact when wwx was taken by the Jiang. Wether they were on good terms or not is up to you. They're reunited when xy is tied up and searched for the yin iorn. (Is xy still/became a villain? Or is there more going on/framed by the sects?)

B) untamed au (where wwx and xy are aprox same age). Diverging au where dif types of soulmates exist, wwx accidentally touches skin when searching xue yang, and a soulmate mark/reaction happens.

~*~

5. Itmf fics with good platonic part and plot along with ofcourse our dear wangxian as the mains. More specifically I'm looking for fics where there is huge platonic relationship in the plot . I want it between: Wei Wuxian with maybe Jiang cheng or Wen Ning or Wen Qing or any other character in the book. It can even be some oc. NO modern au please. @constellationdks

Episode 51 by Fool_on_the_Hill_2528258 (G, 27k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Feelings Realization, Happy Ending, Closure, Epilogue, The Untamed (TV) Compliant, The Untamed (TV) Ending, Post-The Untamed (TV), JC & WWX Reconciliation, POV LWJ, POV WWX, POV Third Person Omniscient, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Oblivious WWX, Soft WangXian, Supportive LXC, Sect Leader JL, LWJ Has Feelings, Supportive JC) try my fic “Episode 51”! Wangxian is main but I deal a lot with Jiang Cheng/Wei Wuxian’s relationship too!

~*~

6. Hi hi! Are there any spiderman! wwx or lwj fics?

let your colours bleed and blend with mine by ravenditefairylights (T, 13k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Superheroes/Superpowers, Spiderman AU, Secret Identity, Angst with a Happy Ending, Romance, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Crossdressing, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, There Was Only One Bed, Fluff)

wangxian spiderman AU by amisfitm (Not Rated, 1k, WIP, WangXian, smut, Fluff, spiderman au, spider wangji)

lookin' at you sideways by starries (T, 15k, WangXian, Modern AU, Superheroes/Superpowers, High School, basically spiderman!wwx, Fluff, Getting Together)

~*~

7. hello! are there any fics in which wwx tells someone about the kiss on Phoenix mountain? like jyl or something? or at least him like, still thinking about it and trying to find the 'strong maiden' who kissed him.

the breaking of your soul (upon my lips) by sunsandships (M, 40k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Mutual Pining, Golden Core Reveal, Happy Ending)

There’s A Molester On The Loose At Phoenix Mountain!! by sweetlolixo (G, 3k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Humor, Crack, Romance) There's also this one if the requester doesn't mind a humorous story about the Phoenix Mountain kiss

~*~

8. idk if this is too specific but itmf for old friends wangxian reuniting either due to the juniors/lan yuan or them being witnesses to it? but they didn’t know this wei wuxian guy is the person lwj has been missing and stuff? or vice versa? thank u !!

~*~

9. itmf wangxian modern royalty aus? would love the arranged marriage trope specifically but im open to anything!

(no jc/wq please) thanks for your help, always! <3

They aren't modern au, only royalty and sometimes arranged marriage. All very good though I recommend them:

To Deliver an Heir by cerbykerby (E, 49k, WangXian, slight dubcon/noncon but wangxian are into it, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Heat Sex, Knotting, Royalty Medical, Emperor LWJ, Physician WWX, Mpreg, Postpartum Depression, Breeding, Creampie, LWJ literally cannot stop himself from coming in WWX, Breastfeeding)

我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 84k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan)

願陛下 | by his majesty’s decree by sweetlolixo (E, 40k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Concubine WWX, Harems, Pining LWJ, LWJ is not a dragon in this one but he descended from them :), Childhood Sweethearts (sort of), Romance, minimal angst, Happy Ending, NHS & WWX are concubine BFFs, LWJ has NO EYES for anyone besides WWX don’t worry the harem is only for the plot setting, Fantasy, Pregnant WWX, Possessive LWJ, Fluff)

True Gold Fears No Fire by defractum (nyargles) (M, 75k, WIP, WangXian,  Royalty, Ancient China, Wuxia, Historical, Historical Inaccuracy, Arranged Marriage, Identity Porn, Mutual Pining, Emperor LWJ, Empress WWX, Eventual Happy Ending, Misunderstandings)

travelers through the empty gate by stiltonbasket (M, 112k, WangXian, royalty au, mistaken identity, emperor WWX, poor LWJ, forced marriage, (by LWJ himself), confused WWX, parenthood, misunderstandings, empress LWJ, fluff & humor, married life, angst w/ happy ending, WIP)

A Blade By Your Side by athena_crikey (E, 77k, WangXian, Historical, Royalty, Forced Marriage, Bodyguard, court intrigue, falling in love with the person you're married to, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Politics, Drama, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Slow Burn)

Gotta die to come alive by Less_Ginger (M, 80k, WangXian, LWJ & LSZ & WWX, JC & WWX & JYL, WWX & WQ, LXC & LWJ, JYL/JZX, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Not Really Character Death, Misunderstandings, Post Mpreg, Parent-Child Relationship, Brotherly Love, JYL is great big sis, Not Actually Unrequited Love, emperor lwj, and his empress wwx, and their legitimate son A-Yuan, Heabvy Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn)

The Mummified Emperor Wants To Marry Me by sweetlolixo (E, 74k, WangXian, WIP, Modern, Historical Fantasy, Royalty, Emperor LWJ, Mummy LWJ, Reincarnation, Size Difference, Archaeologist WWX, Simp LWJ)

🔒 of all the hands by Anonymous (E, 51k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence, Emperor LXC, PTSD, Nightmares, Dual Cultivation, Mental Health Issues, Fluff and Angst, Dom/sub Undertones, Consensual Non-Consent, Bonding, Mutual Pining, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Politics, Improper Use of the Lan Forehead Ribbon, the get WWX some sleep agenda, yunmeng trio reconciliation)

~*~

10. for the next 'I'm in the mood for': I'm in the mood for a Wangxian fic where Lan Wangji is a ghost and Wei Wuxian just, lives with him and can see and interact with him? I would pretty much like that. @saiaisaiko

lovers be lost (but love shall not) by la_muerta (T, 13k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, 1910s, Case Fic, Ghosts, Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Ghost Marriage)

Red Is Just Black Remembering by Zizzani (E, 41k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Homophobia, Necromancy, Ghosts, Modern, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sharing a Bed)

lan wangji sees dead people by mountainrain898

of ghosts and graveyards by DiRoxy (T, 10k, WangXian, Pre-Relationship, Pokemon, Case Fic, ghost WWX, Happy Ending, LWJ and JC Work Together, Depictions of Science Experiments on Pokemon, Shadow Pokemon, Clone Pokemon)

I Really Must Be Dreaming 'Cause I Don't Believe In Ghosts by bodysintheabyss (Not rated, 7k, WangXian, Ghosts, Halloween, WWX's Birthday, Ghost WWX, Witch WWX, POV LWJ, Living Together, (kind of?), Roommates, Magic, Dark Magic, spells, Witchcraft, Pining, Autistic LWJ, Getting Together, Kissing, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Modern)

~*~

11. Hi :)) thank you for all of the hard work you have done for all of us who use your blog. I was wondering if there was a modern with cultivation au fic that has events similar to canon, or where there's a whole secret cultivation world and there's the sun shot campaign.

the journey is far from over series by thelastdboy (E, 164k, WangXian, WWX & Wen Remnants, LXC & LWJ, LWJ & MM, Madam Lan & LWJ, LXC & JGY, Modern Cultivation, Canon Divergence, Madam Lan Lives, JYL Lives, WQ Lives, Post-Sunshot Campaign, POV WWX, Slow Burn, YLLZ WWX, Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Healing Is a Slow Process, therapy is good actually, All women deserve better, mlm/wlw solidarity, the mortifying ordeal of discovering you're into bdsm while you're caught up in political intrigue, Kink Negotiation, Kink Exploration, Not Everyone Dies, WWX Lives, Mental Health Issues, References to Depression, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Burial Mounds Ensemble as Family, Single Parent WWX, Selectively Mute LWJ, Eventual Smut, Light Dom/sub, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, es, LWJ & MM Friendship, Pre-WangXian, Wen Remnants Live, LWJ saves the Wēn Remnants, LWJ's Punishment, Whipping, LWJ Needs a Hug, POV LWJ, Neurodivergent LWJ, Stimming, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Coming of Age)

transmuter by WithLoweredVoices (Not rated, 113k, wangxian, Modern with Magic, Magical Realism, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending)

~*~

12. hello! I've recently got a craving for canon divergence fics where jyl doesn't manage to push wwx out of the way of that sword and dies OR he dies at qiongqi pass and jzx lives

Golden Phoenix by Alineko (G, 34k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, JL & WWX, JC & WWX & JYL, JZX & WWX, JL & OYZZ & LSZ & LJY & WWX, MXY & WWX, WIP, Reincarnation, Reincarnated WWX, Jin WWX, Child WWX, Minor WangXian but when he is older, Protective JYL, JC Gets a Hug, WWX is JL's Brother, Protective Siblings, Sibling Bonding, Cute WWX, Stressed JC, Light Angst, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Protective WWX, WWX Shenanigans, Crack Treated Seriously, Golden Core Reveal)

in this place where we don’t have a prayer by Cerusee, Mikkeneko (T, 42k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, WWX dies at Qiongqi path, Demonic Cultivation)

To Be Named by Suibian_613 (T, 39k, WangXian, XuanLi, WIP, Canon Divergence, Out of Character, WQ is out of character, Everyone is probably ooc, canonical violence, Canonical Character Death, JYL lives, Somewhat Sentient Burial Mounds, WN and JC Rivalry, Sibling Rivalry)

ius in bello by Lise (T, 2k, JC & JYL & WWX, Canon Divergence, Tearjerker, Sad Ending, Heavy Angst, Grief/Mourning, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Not A Fix-It, POV JC, [Podfic] ius in bello by flamingwell)

後悔莫及 (Too Late for Regrets) by liverbiver9 (T, 20k, JYL/OC, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, JYL-centric, POV JYL, Genderqueer WWX, Trans Male Character, Kid Fic, Child WWX, Fluff and Angst, Family Feels, Found Family, WWX is a Wen, technically, Assassination Attempt(s), WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, Minor MianQing, No Sunshot Campaign, No Golden Core Transfer, Everybody Lives, mentioned minor character death, Gender Non-Conforming WWX, Trans WWX)

~*~

13. Hi! Thank you for your hard work! I am sending in a request for next In the mood for. I’m looking for fics that include

A) JinLing getting his parents (either or both) back (either by time-travel or fix-it fic or them coming back to live)

B) JinLing learning about his parents from JC and WWX.

C) LWJ and JC getting along

1 and 2 can be combined. I’d prefer canon era but okay with modern era fics too. Thank you! @bitemepotter

13A)

Time, Time, Time by skeletonofaplant (G, 44k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, LSZ & WWX, JYL & JL & JZX, LJY & LSZ, Time Travel Fix-It, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Angst, Fluff, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Time Travelling Junior Ensemble, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Humor)

❤️ Tragedy is Not the End by Hobbsy3 (T, 358k, wangxian, Time Travel, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Canon Divergence from Qiongqi Pass, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Yunmeng sibling bonding, good dad wwx, good dad lwj, JZX Lives, JYL Lives, Junior Quartet Dynamics)

And They Lived Happily Ever After… by Morgana_avalon (G, 51k, WangXian, Zhuiling, Time Travel Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon Universe, Canon Related, set before the ambush happens at Qiongqi Path, Canon Divergence, Bunnies, Good brother JC, Good JZX, CQL Verse)

13B)

Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 63k, WangXian, WWX & JL, Post-Canon, Protective WWX, Protective JL, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Reluctant Matchmaker JL)

climbing up that coastal shelf by Sour_Idealist (T, 15k, JC & JL & WWX, JC & JL, JC & WWX, JL & LSZ, JL & WWX, Post-Canon, Mutually Unrequited Forgiveness, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Family History, Generational Trauma, Discussion of Canonical Abuse, Awkward Attempts at Communication, mentions of past JC/WQ, Fairy is a good dog)

❤️ The One-Body Problem by metisket (T, 29k, LJY & WWX, LJY & LSZ, wangxian, possession, cohabitation, The One-Body Problem by SeaNoodle)

💖 Grey Area by pearliegloom (M, 31k, wangxian, yiling wei sect au, sect leader WWX, LWJ stays at Burial Mounds, found family, secret marriage, angst, eloping, reconciliation, fix-it) Chapter 15

13C)

Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji being bros series by JiangChengLotus (Mostly T, 99k, JC & LWJ, wangxian, JC/LXC)

found your writing on my wall by howodd5ever (T, 25k, WangXian, JC & LWJ, JC & WWX, Accidental Baby Acquisition, De-aged WWX, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Referenced Child Neglect, discussion of parental loss, child food insecurity, Case Fic, kind of, Nightmares)

Orchids in Lotus Pier by Vamillepudding (G, 21k, wangxian, canon divergence, romantic comedy, pining, protective JC, friends to lovers, misunderstandings)

~*~

14. Hi, you wouldn't happen to know of any fics where lan wangji defends wei wuxian. The persons he's defending wwx against can be anyone, but preferably an angry lan wangji rant towards jiang cheng or lan qiren/lanxinchen would be most interesting to me. Many thanks! @palmnix

~*~

15. In the mood for fic: I wonder if there is some fic with amnesiac Lan Zhan. It could be that by some spell or something Lan Zhan loses his memory (temporary or otherwise). I feel like there is a lot of amnesiac Wei Wuxian but I haven't found any with Lan Zhanlike that. Also please no modern au. Thank you.

Unavoidable by diamondbruise (T, 18k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Amnesia, Jealousy, lwj just is like that idk what to tell you, Misunderstandings, Falling In Love, Again, Happy Ending, it’s that thing where they’re married but lwj can’t remember wwx and they meet again)

These Two Most Powerful by stiltonbasket (G, 4k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, Married Life, Family Feels, Parenthood, Temporary Amnesia, Time Travel, it’s amnesia but it feels like time travel to LWJ, wangxian have more babies, and they are the cutest buns, not your average amnesia fic? there’s no drama here tbh, just soft husbands carrying on with fatherhood, And loving each other, Mild Angst, Happy Ending)

Forget Me Not by Vamillepudding (T, 10k, wangxian, post-canon, temporary amnesia, romantic comedy, misunderstandings, protective JC, light angst) features both Wei Ying & Lan Zhan getting temporary amnesia but thinking they're at two different points in time.

the gift of sincerity by lariyats (T, 40k, WangXian, Fluff and Angst, Post-Canon, Amnesia, or more specifically, the lwj amnesia au, where he regresses back to the 13 year period, but actually, Surprise!!, Established Relationship, very mild angst, Implied Sexual Content, ok maybe it’s not as mild as i said it was but it’s still v fluffy, Hurt/Comfort)

💖 I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett (T, 10k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Memory Loss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunions, Curses, Intimacy, Yearning, Happy Ending, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Immortality, Fluff, Angst)

long have you been alone by martyrsdaughter (E, 56k, WangXian, Modern Cultivation, Amnesia, Curses, Hanahaki Disease, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Workplace Relationship, Light Angst, Sexual Content, Mild Painplay, Overstimulation, WWX Has a Breeding Kink, Light Bondage, Mild Gore, Mild Breathplay, Brief Mentions of WWX/Others and LWJ/Others, other relationships are past tense and off screen exclusively)

🔒💖 hello my old heart, how have you been? by ravenditefairylights (M, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Temporary Amnesia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Trauma, Unreliable Narrator, Pining, Hair Washing, Hair Brushing, Hair Braiding, Soft WangXian, LWJ Needs a Hug, Sleepy Cuddles)

Blue water by huxiyi (E, 25k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Temporary Amnesia, Case Fic, Curses, Cultivation Sect Politics, Established Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, References to Depression, Discussion of Grief, Discussion of bodies, Explicit Sexual Content, Dom/sub Undertones, Under-negotiated Kink, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note)

🔒 Memories of Marriage by DC_Derringer (E, 15k, WangXian, Amnesia, handjobs, Kissing, Anal Sex, Very light angst with a happy ending, Loss of Virginity, First Kiss, Second-Hand Embarrassment, LSZ is the best boy)

I'll sleep when I'm dead by verybadidea (G, 2k, WangXian, Temporary Amnesia, Memory Loss, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Comfort, Post-Canon, Cuddling & Snuggling, Canon Compliant)

Falling in love with your Husband(Again) by ImTaakofromTV (T, 17k, WangXian, Temporary Amnesia, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, they're in love, Case Fic, Falling for your husband after one day who you don't remember marrying)

tonight i can write the saddest lines by sarahyyy (G, 3k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Amnesia, Falling In Love, Domestic Fluff)

(( Unforgettable…to me. by Liebing (T, 3k, WangXian, Fluff, Modern, Amnesia, wangxian footballers, college or university age wangxian, Soft, Sweet, Funny, Happy Ending, meddling LXC, small mentions of sex, One Kiss, Holding Hands, lots of time jumps backwards and forwards, teasing JC; LWJ is injured but he’s fine just some small memory loss, well technically an extra memory of a boyfriend he doesn’t have…yet, Canon WWX who thinks LWJ hates him…sigh) ))

(( 🔒 Overboard by celerydragon (T, 51k, WangXian, Modern AU, Misunderstandings, Temporary Amnesia, Comedy, hopefully, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship) ))

(( 🔒 The Heart Remembers by Setyourlazerstopew (G, 2k, WangXian, Soft, Temporary Amnesia, Memory Loss, temporary memory loss, Fluff, Modern, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, LWJ is a softy but so is WWX, they deserve each other, Happy Ending, not a serious injury don't worry) ))

(( Across the street to another life by danegen (M, 99k, WangXian, Modern AU, unleashed au, Family Fluff, Set in America, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Addiction, Crime, Amnesia, Ableist, Language, another fridged mother, POV Alternating, past wwx/ofc, past wwx/omc, Medium parent YZY, A-Yuan is wwx’s biological son, Musicians, Happy Ending) ))

(( voidable by sarahyyy (M, 2k, wangxian, modern, amnesia, misunderstandings, love confessions) ))

((🔒 remind me why I love you by AG1234VL (M, 44k, WangXian, Minor XiCheng, Past XiYao, Modern AU, Temporary Amnesia, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, sort-of crack treated seriously, WangXian Pining, Except They’re Already Married, Hair Brushing, Childhood Trauma, Past Abuse L, Fluff and Angst, Crying WWX, Jealous LWJ, Forehead Kisses, Family Feels, Bottom!LWJ, versatile!wangxian, smitten!lwj, flirty!wwx, horny!wangxian, Mental Illness, Non-main Character Suicide, Non-Sexual Intimacy, but also sexual intimacy, brief discussions about grief) ))

~*~

16. Hey ,ITMF, a modern AU that is slow burn . I know my description is kinda broad and vague, but I'd really like something along those lines

Thank you!

Lovesong of the Square Root of Negative One by honeydrip (lmeden) (M, 55k, WangXian, JC & LWJ, JC & WWX, Modern, Blood and Gore, Elements of Horror, Elements of magical realism, Layered Narratives, A Story Within a Story, POV Multiple, Slow Burn, Not Everyone Dies)

he gets under your skin by Skadiseven (M, 87k, WangXian, XiXian, (sort of), Inspired By While You Were Sleeping (1995), Modern AU, Accidental Engagement, Chicago (City), lan typical communication skills, wangxian’s tendency to self-sacrifice, Christmas, Cats, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Légèreté by perkynurples (T, 65k, WangXian, Modern au, Horse riding, Swords as horses, Crack treated seriously, Friends to Lovers)

Waiting for Spring by thievinghippo (E, 130k, WangXian, Modern AU, MLB AU, Baseball AU, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, slight angst, Happy Ending)

other earths and skies by binghecarer (T, 53k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, (but not in the typical way?), Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Scars and Injuries, Curses, making a deal with a mysterious mountain spirit (?) to help your found family?, there was only one bed and it had narrative significance, (oh my god it had narrative signigicance), Hurt/Comfort)

like wildflowers (we grow) by moonsteps (T, 80k, WangXian, Modern, Teachers, Kid Fic, Single Parents, Slow Burn, Fluff, WWX & WQ are bffs, feelings and cute kids and softness and pining, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers)

The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (E, 70k, WangXian, Modern AU, Accidental Baby Acquisition,Kid Fic, explicit in much much later chapters, green card marriage (but not really), pining for your own husband, endless pining, Slow Burn, Happy Ending, Nothing else bad or traumatic happens to the baby, [Podfic of] The Simplest Way Forward by knight_tracer, a Spanish version of the fic, Turkish translation, Translation into Русский availabl)

🔒 Definitely Unreturnable by 3neetee (T, 44k, WangXian, Modern, A/B/O, Omega Verse, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Domestic Fluff, Angst, Adoption, Mutual Pining, Roommates, Slow Burn, Mentions of past child abuse, Eventual Smut, Mating Cycles/In Heat, A lot of hospitals, Slice of Life, Kid Fic)

~*~

17. Hello! For the next itmf I had some requests:

A) I was hoping for some recs in which wwx is sensitive after sex and someone is mean to him, making him cry/emotional

B) wwx going into subdrop, with wangxian being the main couple and the subdrop not tagged

C) some modern au's with wwx having depression but people brushing it off as laziness/not recognizing the signs until it's too late

D) wwx shaking, like, it could be after good/bad sex, being too emotional, being hurt, being cold after losing his core, etc.

For all of these wangxian has to be the main couple preferably but I'm okay with other people joining them (like nmj/nhs/etc) my only limit is Jiang sibs or lxc, thanks! @menimimimeni

17B)

The Damage You Do by stiricide (E, 188k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Dom/Sub, Dark LWJ, Mobster LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Sex Worker WWX, Sugar Baby WWX, WWX adopts LSZ, Dubious Consent, each chapter has sex tag notes on it, BDSM, Sounding, Panic Attacks, Angst with a Happy Ending)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[thebearer]

could you do a subtle (maybe teering on mid/heavy) dominance with carm and they’re getting ready for bed ? ( you don’t have to do getting ready for bed it just the first thing that came to mind) anyways thanks in advance !!



You walked through the door, shedding your clothes with each step. "I can not fucking wait to get in this bed, and I swear to God I'm not leaving it all day tomorrow." You huffed, flinging a shoe then the other towards the closet door.

Carmen snorted lightly, setting down his phone to look at you. "Yeah? Sounds good t'me, baby. You know I won't stop you." He grinned, lazy and sweet, your chest feeling with warmth.

You rolled your eyes lightly, bending over to shimmy out of your jeans. Carmen's eyes were trained on you, tongue running over his bottom lip. "Was the dinner that bad?" He asked. He got his answer with how hard you flung the jeans towards the hamper.

"The worst, Carm." You huffed, falling dramatically on the bed beside him. "I don't understand what the purpose of a work dinner even is. We didn't even fucking work, and the food was so disgusting, I couldn't even eat it-"

"-Hold on." Carmen held up his hand, eyes cutting to you. "You didn't eat? You didn't eat at all?"

You huffed, an eye roll of a sigh that had Carmen's brow raising at you. "No, Carmy, I didn't eat. It was disgusting. I couldn't even fake it. Plus, with how much Tonya was talking, I didn't really get a chance."

"Baby, that's not..." Carmen was already rolling out of bed.

"Carmen." You groaned, rolling over to the other side of the bed. "I'm fine. I'll be alright."

"You're hungry." Carmen insisted, one look at you and he could see the way you paused, just a passing second, but it was enough for him to know he was right. "What do you want to eat, huh? I've got a left over sandwich in the fridge or-or I can make you somethin'."

"I'll be fine, Carmy, please." You whined, pushing up on your arms to watch him pad down the hall. "Come back to bed. I just wanna sleep."

"I'm not letting you go to bed on an empty stomach. I know you haven't eaten shit since this morning," True. "And I know you didn't drink any water today, and you'll wake up all sad and sick tomorrow and be in a terrible fuckin' mood." Also true. Carmen knew it, the finality of his voice told you that.

"I will not." You pouted, crossing your arms over your bare chest.

"I'm not arguin' with you about this." Carmen's tone was firm- final. It sent chills down your spine, thighs pressing together. "So what did Tonya talk about?"

"Her kids. One wants to be a chef and she was asking me pointers, like I would know." You rolled your eyes, shimmying your body half off the bed to grab one of Carmen's shirts- your favorite one to sleep in, slipping it over your body.

"Tell her to tell them to not fuckin' do it, that's my advice." Carmen muttered, a plate clattering on the counter.

You could feel the guilt settling in your tummy, in a deep pit that had you fidgeting. The guilt of Carmen taking care of you, when you'd been to careless to do it yourself. You knew he didn't mind but it still made you feel a little uneasy, even when he brought the sandwich in, glass of water in his free hand.

"You really didn't have to do that, Carmy. I was fine." You muttered, looking at the plate in front of you.

"Stop." Carmen shook his head at you. "Eat, alright? Don't need to be goin' all day without eatin'. You know that."

"I could afford to miss a meal, I promise. I'd be alright." Though your tone was teasing, playing on the edge of a joke, Carmen found it anything but funny.

"What did you just say?" Carmen's eyes were hard, cutting like his tone. You paused, looking at him carefully. It was a tone he rarely used, saved it for the kitchen. Only bringing it out on times when he was really upset.

"I was just-"

"Don't you ever let me hear you say some shit like that again, you hear me?" Carmen's jaw flexed, shaking his head at you. You could feel the warmth spreading from your cheeks to your chest. Embarrassment? Maybe at being chastised like that. But judging by the dull ache between your legs, you knew it was probably something else.

"Eat your food." Carmen nodded, still firm but with a softer edge this time.

You didn't argue, his tone was final, you were hungry, and, fuck, was that sandwich good. A classic Italian sub with a positively Carmy twist on it. Carmen waited until you finished your water- after having to remind you to finish it with so much as a sigh and a "there's that much left, just drink it f'me please?"- pulling you under the covers with him to listen to the rest of your dinner.

You felt better. Soured attitude dissipated and the dull headache forming behind your eyes was gone, no longer thudding with every beat of your heart.

[rewiringtoheal]

This Pain Is Temporary

Anna x Fem!Reader

1/?

He's Just Not That Into You AU

Summary: I was watching this movie and had a lot of what if questions. What if the main cast actually all communicated with each other? What if Anna actually had some character development? What if Reader was a variation of a female Conor Barry who got a clue? And how would these differences lead to Anna genuinely falling in love with Reader.

warnings: very slowburn, angst, worse before better, eventual fluff and smut.

You feel used. This person that you love…loved?? You aren’t really sure anymore of your feelings toward Anna. It was never simple with her. And truthfully, you wish you could go back to your blissful ignorance.

 You had been so thrilled when she told you she was finally ready to take the next step with you. A real relationship with the girl of your dreams. Having your heartfelt love confession be returned and then making love for hours was more than you ever could have hoped for. 

You now knew it was all a lie. And that Anna was a very skilled actor. In your excitement you had raced home the next morning to tell your best buddy Alex and his new girlfriend GiGi the news. After showing them a picture of Anna and you. The night of bliss quickly turned sour; GiGi hesitantly told you that Anna was the same woman that had a very recent affair with her best friend's husband. And everything the past few months had started to make sense. How Anna would constantly ignore your calls but somehow always be available when she needed her emotional needs met. And finding out that the only reason she wanted a relationship with you was because the man of her dreams wouldn’t leave his wife was heartbreaking. How could you be so stupid? And how could you be so blind to the type of person Anna really was.

You felt a hand squeezing your knee bringing you back to the world around you. You  see GiGi’s hand retreating and her eyes filled with sorrow. You muster up a strained smile.

“Well, at least I had my dream girl for a moment even if it wasn’t real. Looking back, I kinda see now that she treated me like shit but I was so lost in her. I can’t believe I was so blind to her selfishness. And now this…I don’t think I ever really knew her at all,” you say somberly.  

Alex let out a deep sigh, “Dude I don’t really know what to say. She did really shitty things but maybe she's not a shitty person. The moments you had together weren’t all fake. The parts of herself she showed you are probably real. And you can love those parts and still be hurt that she lied about her feelings for you.”

You give a weak chuckle, “You’re right..but I don’t know how to deal with this. I do still love her even if she used me. I see it so clearly now. I’m the back up plan. The person she really wanted hurt her so she chose the safe option.”

Gigi looked at you, her eyes filling with sorrow, “Sometimes people don’t know what they have until it's gone. She is making awful decisions and it’s hurting everyone around her. Deal with this by loving yourself first. I know it's hard but she doesn’t appreciate you. And only wants you when she has no one else.”

That was hard to hear but Gigi was right. You need to take care of yourself. For months you have been putting all of your energy into Anna. Being there for her emotionally, picking up her dry cleaning, giving her rides, and loving her to the best of your ability. All to realize that she never really cared about you, not even as a friend. A friend wouldn’t play with your feelings like this.  

You continue to chat with your friends for a little while longer. Eventually you grow too sad and too tired to keep up the conversation. You excuse yourself for the night and head up to your bedroom. Not in the mood to do your night time routine you just chuck off your clothes, put your cellphone on your night stand and cuddle under the covers. 

Your mind keeps turning in circles as you lay there. The happiness you had felt earlier today has turned into a deep sadness. And for the first time since Gigi told you about Anna you allow yourself to cry. As silent tears move down the contours of your face you burrow into your pillow; just praying to yourself that you can fall asleep. Anything to stop the pain. 

You briefly wonder if Gigi’s friend Janine is in the same state you are right now. You know more than likely she is worse off than you. Janine's entire life is in shambles. Her husband is awful no doubt about it but you just can’t wrap your head around Anna getting involved with a married man. Nothing makes sense anymore but maybe you never had a clue to begin with.

[stvrnioloslvt]

❛❛ ⛸️ + 🏒 ❞

The first time hockeyplayer!matt and figureskater!reader spoke…kinda

silence and peace reigned in baby’s dorm room, the orange light of the sunrise filtering through the windows. a couple birds chirped happily outside, and the chatter of fellow college residents could be heard from outside. 

you tossed in your bed, slowly waking up. you smiled at the smell of fresh coffee and pastries coming from the cafeteria under your room, the savoury smells helping you wake up in a good mood.

you turned around, glancing to the other side of the room: your roommate’s bed was intact, everything in place just like she left it the morning before. knowing your friend, she probably spent the night over her “friend”’s place… you never really understood why the girl had a problem with admitting that she had a fuck buddy, but it wasn’t really your problem so you didn’t care about it too much.

you got up from the bed, slipping into your slippers and an oversized tee over your tank top and short shorts that you slept in, grabbing your basket with toiletries and bathrobe before exiting the room, headed towards the showers of the floor. 

as you turned the key inside the lock, you heard voices coming from your left. your head whipped up at a familiar laugh, seeing the triplets walking towards you. chris spotted you first, lifting his hand up and in the air and greeting you cheerfully: “hi baby! what’you doin’ here?”

you bit back a laugh, replying with a sarcastic “i’d like to remind you that i live here. what are you doing here?” 

you retracted the key from the lock, leaning on the door frame. an amused expression planted on your face, watching as your friend skipped happily towards you. 

“nick’s friend is moving in and he invited us to his room, said he wants to show us how he put everything together. and why are you - whoa, are you just casually walking around naked?” 

behind his brother, nick snorted at the same time as you did, shaking his head at the remark. 

“hi baby, long time no see. chris - where exactly do you see nakedness?”

chris shrugged, eyeing you one last time slowly before saying “her legs, i guess. why on earth are you walking around with no shorts on?”

“no shorts- are you seri- chris,” you pulled the hem of the tee up, revealing the fabric of the black shorts you were wearing under, “these are shorts.”

“oh c’mon they cannot be considered shorts, they don’t cover anything. am i right, matt?”

your heart dropped in your stomach at the name: matt. shit, you had forgotten he was even there. you glanced behind chris, spotting the third brother. he had stayed silent during the whole conversation, so silent that you had completely forgotten that he was there to begin with. his dark hair fell in front of his eyes, acting like a shield between him and the outside world. you wondered if they were as soft as they looked, what would it be like to stretch your arm and dip you hand in his hair, tugging and- no. no, you couldn’t think like that. 

you observed as matt checked you out, his eyes boring into your legs. suddenly, you really felt naked just like chris said, holding the bathrobe in front of you to hide yourself as much as possible. matt noticed you subtle attempt at covering up, forcing a fake cough to hide the fact that he also didn’t intend to stare as much as he actually did, flustered at his own lack of control.

“matt?”

“she’s fine, mind your business.”

chris’ and nick’s eyes shot up in surprise. they glanced between each other and their brother before excusing themself with a quick “well, see you around, baby. ‘t was nice to see you.” and as fast as they came, they also left, leaving you alone in an empty hall with matt.

“uhm… i-i’ll go now.,” he murmured, the tip of his ears turning a deep shade of red. “it was nice seeing you baby, see you soon.”

“see you soon,” you whispered back, not missing the way matt quickly glanced up at the number beside your door before following his brothers. 

you watched his back walk away, hands in his pockets and head low. you turned the other way, noticing only in that moment that you had started shaking during the little interaction with the silent brother.

oh, you were fucked.

© stvrnioloslvt

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃/𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊. 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓

❃ a.n.: nice and short fic just to wish you all a happy new year full of happiness, opportunities and luck! 🩷✨️🫂

❃ and as always, spam my inbox with questions, prompts or whatever else <3

love you all, bree ☾

icy taglist: @shadowthesim @sturnioloszn @sofieeeeex 🧊

(find other resources regarding hockeyplayer!matt au in my masterlist)

[joonipertree]

idea for the Boxer!Katsuki and Artist!Reader AU! What if, ON TOP OF a rly bad day w college and being overwhelmed w work, we lost our paints :( n we luv our paints so we cry, but katsuki’s there to make us feel better and get us a new set :3

Thank you so fucking much for this. Idk if you knew but I'm actually making a portfolio for art school and Ive been crying every other night because of how stressed I am and how much I feel like I'm a bad artist. So writing this was cathartic

Part 1, Part 2

Tags: Dom/sub undertones, reader acting out and Bakugo being stern, a peak of what kind of shit I want with older men hsjsjsj, fluff, hurt/comfort, soft katsuki

Katsuki was one of the last people you wanted to see when you're in a bad mood. And that might sound terrible but it's because you never wanted to show such a harsh, negative side of yourself to someone you cared about. You were very much a 'feel and then reappear more regulated' type of person. But Katsuki never let you go home on your own anymore, picking you and dropping you off even on days where he had something to do.

So you trotted towards him with a scowl and no energy to fake anything and he noticed instantly, his own concerned scowl mirroring yours.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You said and opened the door, closing it a bit too loudly. You cringed at the sound but buckled yourself in and turned away before the man got in the driver's seat.

"You're shit at lying."

"Fuck off."

Instant regret, a deep inhale from your part as you tensed.

Fuck.

His large hand came on your thigh and you stiffened, all he did was give it a warning squeeze before pulling away. The message was clear. 'Watch it'.

"I'm not willing to discipline you until I know nothing horrible happened but you do know I don't like that shit from you right?"

You said nothing.

"Give me an answer, doll."

"I'm an adult."

"Yeah, you are. And you're a smart one that knows that we have rules. That I'd be taking you over my lap if you talked like that."

Tears pricked your eyes but you blinked them away, not willing to turn your head to show him.

He knew anyways and he dropped the subject, starting the car and driving off.

Katsuki pulled to a stop at a place that wasn't anywhere near your apartment. You were confused as he got out of the car. Your eyes followed him just as he entered a boba shop.

Oh.

A couple minutes later, he came out with a drink for each of you. You remembered when he said that there just wasn't any point of it, that it seemed stupid and too sweet. But pretty soon, he had his own usual order, which was just Brown Sugar boba tea with the sweetness to a minimum.

Katsuki gave you the drink without even looking your way, sipping on his own. You stared at it for a total of ten seconds before timidly taking a sip. The sweetness broke you out of your sour mood, eyes blinking as you focused on the flavour of your favourite tea. The boba was chewy and soft and it grounded you a bit.

Only after you took a sip, did Katsuki start the car and drive.

When you reached home, the apartment the two of you had started sharing a month prior, Katsuki only gave you time to take off your shoes and put down your bag before he had you over his shoulder.

You struggled, hitting his back and asking him to let you go but he didn't listen...not even feeling it.

And when your ass plopped itself onto the couch, your attempt at running away failed when he easily manhandled you in place.

"I'm not patient enough to coax it out of you, so tell me why you're upset. I'll make it better."

You wanted to refuse but the tears were already dripping down your face.

"I'm so bad at art. I'm so f-fucking bad at it. I don't-" you sobbed and his arms were instantly around you, pulling you onto his lap as you cried into him.

"There's so many deadlines and so many things I have to do and nothing is working. And I don't even know if I'm cut out to be an artist. I'm not good enough, I was never good enough for it. I'm gonna fail-- Katsuki I'm so tired."

Your boyfriend rocked you back and forth, giving you kisses everywhere he could reach, on the side of your face and your head and your hair. And you let the tears fall, hiccuping violently and sobbing without restraint.

"I even lost my fucking paints and I can't live without them and I saved up for them and I'm just doing everything wrong."

You let Katsuki envelope you, squeeze you and warm your inside as you let it all out.

When your sobs died down, Katsuki didn't stop peppering kisses everywhere. It took him a second to speak.

"I didn't know shit about art. It all seemed like fancy, time consuming pictures to me. Hell, even now I don't know shit. But when I saw your art, I felt stuff I thought I didn't know how to feel. And that was the first time I realised that maybe life didn't have to be as shitty as it was. Maybe things didn't have to be ugly."

"When we went to those art galleries, yeah they were cool and pretty but not gonna lie, nothing ever left me speechless like your art did. And yeah...I'm biased as fuck, especially because I thought that the look in your eyes was the prettiest out of everything. That sounds cheesy as shit but you make me feel cheesy as shit."

You had stopped crying, left drained and nuzzled against Katsuki while you looked for an anchor to hold onto. And he held you.

"I like seeing you paint the most though, I like how you focus...I like how you curse under your breath, I like how you grin when something looks right, I like how you scan art supplies before you buy them. I like your paint stained hands and your paint water mugs even when I've accidently taken a sip from them. I like that how you laugh when I do that shit. I love that look of pride you have when you're done and staring at it.

It makes you happy so even if I don't understand the point of it, it means a lot to me because of that. So, whenever that thing stops being fun for you, and really stops being fun for you, I'll support you if you wanna stop. But I gotta keep seeing your work, baby, cuz it's like the inside of your head and it's really neat."

You let a few more tears drop, sniffling and looking into his eyes. There was no ingenuity, only pure emotion. And you let him kiss your tears away, you let him pat your head and you let him make you drink water and feed you.

Because it was never a burden for him to do those things, but a priveledge.

The very next day, the same set of paints were in your bag. Brand new and untouched. Along with three different watercolour paper books. 100% pure cotton, 350 gcm.

With a note that said 'you're still down for a spanking for that shitty mouth of yours. Don't make it a habit.'