#also wanted to add he has a resting bitch face

[n1ghtpers0n15]

Here y’all go, It’s Orpheus, before he boarded The Fair Mistress

Had to draw him with and without these, he doesn’t wear these ones often, they ain’t comfortable.

Also here’s his lore as well as a bit of personal information

Hope it’s interesting, if y’all wanna know anything about him like hobbies or whatnot, please feel free to ask

Also, Fun Fact: I only typed in things known by Orpheus

EDIT!!!! EDIT!!!!! I KNEW I FREAKING FORGOT SOMETHING, HOLD ON!!!

Orpheus saw-blade, works as a knife and lil saw, it’s real handy!

[tra1nchi]

Poly relationship with head over heels bottom subs,, one is a cute shy guy who loves m reader so fucking much he doesn't mind getting cucked and stuff as long as it pleases reader,, another one is a hot sexy model who's very proud of his body, always taking care of himself so you'll praise him when you fuck him, taking care of his hair well so you can easily pull them,,, kinky sub who's into wild plays, totally devoted to reader and would do literally anything like damn.. Another cold aloof kind of man,, people are intimidated by him and he's all strong and one man army stuff.. Yet when it comes to reader he's just a mess like damn,, all these pretty, smart, strong subbies also has reader's personal brand on his skin,,, they're so head over heels they do anything for reader's acknowledgement,,

Package deal,,MINORS DNI!! top male reader,,Poly,, Cuckholding,,brat taming,,praise,,Bj,,kinda short

A shy sub who isn't ready but he tries to take every dark fantasy you could ever want from him!! Fuck him in a public setting? He'll try!! It adds to the danger!! You want to fuck someone else infront of him? It turns him on so much,,of course he'd love that!! Begging you so sweetly to do whatever you want with him,,he's yours

A Cocky sub who asks like a total bitch to anyone else,,fighting you in the bedroom but the moment he gets some dick I side of him,, he's totally compliant!! Taking care of his hair so lovingly so you can easily pull at it for more control!! He just feeds off praise!! Praise him and he'll do anything for you!!

A Kinky sub who isn't shy to do anything strange kink of yours,,bullying you at first for every strange fetish you had but so noticeably turned on whenever you both go through with them!! Corrupting his mind to like every single fetish or kink you have!!

A intimating sub who really seems like the dominant,, he's taller then you with a resting bitch face,,but his frowning mouth always gets to be wrapped around your cock!! Sucking on it like a lifeline as his strong muscled body rests submissively under yours!!

[chrissdollie]

rapper!chris x singer!reader hcs

a/n: lowkey a collab with @bambi-slxt bc of all the headcanons she sent me LMAOO thank u sweets!! <3

SFW

chri$ is definitely one of the more "soft" rappers. everyone knows that hes a lovesick puppy for you. he doesnt have ONE line including the words "my bitch". instead he replaces them with "my girl" OR "my wife" :((

i think he would 100% make an album fully dedicated to you. kinda like tyler the creator's "call me if you get lost" in a way. for example, in the song "HEAVEN TO ME", tyler explains his dreams. chris would rap about all of the things he wants to do with you and how he sees you in his life forever

he has many features on peace on the beach with my peach since its partially about your guys' sweet relationship! theres moments in the record where there are beautiful beats paired with your heavenly vocals and cute voice cracks while chri$ is dropping barssss (ill make a post ab lyrics i think he'd add)

sososososo supportive of your creative journey. he was with you as you wrote and planned out your extremely personal debut. he even helped out at the studio :c

but then you started adventuring some time after your 2nd-3rd album. you started experimenting with different genres/styles. you created storylines and visuals along with your music.

out of the two of you, chri$ is definitely more famous. anyhow, he got invited to the met gala and had u has his plus one obviously, where you both looked drop dead gorgeous!! i literally cannot see him wearing a basic ass suit and tie to the met. he has to be on your level and match your uniqueness which make you two stand out so much!

when you both got up the steps, he was being interviewed by emma chamberlin, who was also a fan of his. she asked about the creative process of his newly released album and he totallyy put you in the spotlight, saying "yn helped me a lott honestly. she's... literally a genius." he grins, turning to you while keeping his hand on your waist.

you guys like toying with the paparazzi when they're bothering you. you goofballs make silly faces right in the cameras so they back off

one time when you were being interviewed, your sweet boy wrapped his arms around your waist as he listened to you talk. you were a little nervous and stuttered a bit, but chris consoled you by rubbing small circles into your waist and whispering a gentle "it's okay baby" to your ear.

you fangirl on stage when you catch your boyfriend's eyes in the front row. sometimes you entirely stop what you're singing just to giggle and squeal "hiiii honey!!" while twirling your hair like a little girl. the audience cheers with screams when they realize chris is with them in the crowd-- but feels like its only you two in the stadium when he blows you a kiss (some corny shit he never thought he'd do) and mouth the words "i love you".

for the holidays, u two visit homeless shelters and childrens hospitals and perform for everybody <3

imagine just hanging out at the studio with him and your guys' friends. he's manspreading on a leather couch while massaging your feet resting in his lap as you write lyrics in your lap, your friends helping you out as you do.

you knew that somewhere down the line there was going to be some kind of beef. a popular rapper decided to call out chris for something he did years ago as a literal child. you both ignore it until he sends out a tweet about you. something around, "nd his bitch bad asf id hit fs but she a fuckin weirdass childish mf"

you ignore the fact he called u a "weirdass childish mf", you cant care less, many people dont vibe with ur ideas and thats okay!

u do however care about how his girlfriend would react to seeing him wanting to fuck you. and you'd met her before too, she was a little snobbish, but respectful nonetheless. you joked to your boyfriend about dropping your own diss track on him, but he actually seem intrigued. you shut it down almost immediately though, you didn't wanna make something small such a big deal

but at the next big event you guys went to, you found the rapper's girlfriend and showed her his tweet. she thanked you with a furious scowl on her face before she ran off and slapped the shit out of him in front of everybody

chris gets a custom made $5k chain that has ur name and little details that remind him of u around it :((

NSFW

speaking of that chain, he wears it whenever he pounds into you so you'll be reminded of how he's yours.

chris loves ur vocals so much on stage! he finds them beautiful, but he loves them even more in bed.

"cmon mama lemme hear that pretty voice"

in fact, you two created a song just to have playing in the background while you two get intimate

chris audio recorded him eating u out once and you saying, "oh, fuck chris, it's so good!" and he decided to use that as an adlib in his favorite songs OR disses he wrote about someone being a jerk to u

watching chris perform did things to you. seeing him sweat, brushing his gorgeous hair out of his face, putting in so much energy into his performance... it's intoxicating! sometimes you wish he'd just drop the mic, pull you onstage, and make love to you infront of the world.

he talks about marrying you while he's balls deep inside of your wet cunt :( saying how he wants to drop a humongous bag on your ring, give you the wedding of your dreams, and how he desperately wants to hear "missus sturniolo" from others' mouths

chris will totally pop up behind stage after a show and guide you to your dressing room not so subtly. you apologize to your manager before rushing to your private room like a giddy teenager. "wanna see her sweetheart, she wet for me righ' now? oh, there she is.." he coos as he bends down to his knees right in front of your pussy when you pull down your pretty pink stage costume.

@leah-loves-lilies @1everythingmustgo @star-sturn @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee@freshsturns@emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668 @chrissturnsss @joanofarcily @mattscoquette @slutsturn @sturnioloremarker @ashley9282828 @jnkvivi @sturncakez @lanasturn @riasturns @st7rnioioss @strnlxlqve @starlace111 @mattsfavbigtitties @stvrlighht

[bitterbutblue]

feixiao on top!

i'm guilty of falling for you twice ☆ feixiao x reader

~ feixiao is so cool shes so cool but shes also so babygirl coded u need to hear me out guys u need to SEE my vision like shes so babygirl coded please hjgsfjkhdlkjlka anyways domestic fluff with feixiao because we should love her more instead of thirsting over her

song: fallin' twice - chevy (robin's singing voice!!)~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

"Jiaoqiu, can you stop that!"

"I'm trying to cook!"

"You're being irritating-"

Feixiao lets out a loud groan as the sounds of bickering fill the room once more. Being around you and Jiaoqiu always feels like a babysitting job with how often the two of you argue over the smallest things, whether it be his food being too spicy or your need to add coriander to everything.

"Guys, please."

Her voice cuts through the bickering like a knife, and you immediately shut up. You look away, pouting like a child with your arms crossed as Jiaoqiu raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and Feixiao.

"How'd you get her to shut up?" Jiaoqiu looks at Feixiao, who just hums as she flips to the next page in her book with minimal regards to your pouty state. You shoot a glare at him.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Both of you, calm down." Feixiao rolls her eyes "Jiaoqiu, can you excuse us for a bit?"

"Wha-"

The look she shoots his way has him closing his mouth and leaving the room with a disgruntled huff. The second the door closes, Feixiao gets up to walk towards you, wrapping her arms around you from behind.

"Darling-"

"He was being a bitch!"

"Language." She chides, lightly flicking the back of your head with her finger. You wince, but ultimately melt into her embrace as she rests her head atop yours.

"You mustn't keep picking fights with him, he saved my life."

"He's a cocky little bitch." You whine, and she just laughs. Her laugh sounds genuine, not those she puts on for appearance in front of the other generals, or in front of Jiaoqiu or Moze. Her laugh around you is light, and for a moment all you can focus on is the feeling of her heart beating through her chest, echoing onto you as her hand interlaces itself with yours.

"He may be sometimes, but you should still try to see him the way I do."

You turn around to face your girlfriend, sighing.

"I don't actually hate him, Feixiao."

"I know. But for my sake, stop arguing with him all the time?"

You don't notice the way her breath hitches in her throat when you smile up at her, you don't notice the way her heart jumps and flips when you reach up to cup her cheek. You don't see how her eyes soften when you tilt your head to the side with a small smile.

You don't notice how she falls for you all over again over something as simple as a smile.

"Anything for you baby."

She just blinks, face turning a light pink and you grin.

"Flustered?"

"No." She responds quickly, clearing her throat as she looks away. You grin up at her, pulling her so that she's now standing in front of you.

"You're so pretty when you blush." You whisper, and her ears fold down from embarrassment which has your heart absolutely soaring. Who else gets to see the tough general like this?

"You- uh.." Her eyes dart around the room anxiously, worried that someone may walk in.

"Stop worrying."

She yelps when you tug her down,. She stumbles over her feet, catching herself on the armrests of your chair so that she has you caged in between her arms. She turns redder at your close proximity and you laugh because how is she still so flustered around you when you've been dating for almost two years now?

"You're adorable."

She wants to swoon, the great general of the Yaoqing reduced to a giggly mess over her girlfriend. It took her a while to finally be able to put her guard down around you, but being able to do that was the best decision of her life. You love her, unconditionally.

She loves you, unconditionally.

"You're... you're also cute." She mumbles out, and you smile up at her before moving to quickly give her a peck on the lips.

"I know."

She finally lets out another laugh, the softest smile on her face.

"Get over yourself..." She mumbles, before kissing you again. You smile into the kiss, hand cupping her cheek before she pulls away.

"Jiaoqiu will return any moment now. Do I look alright?"

Her face is red, ears flapped downwards and she looks like a giggly schoolgirl after seeing her crush.

She looks perfect to you.

"He will definitely suspect something."

"Fuck."

Se doesn't get any time to even recompose herself because Jiaoqiu storms in, finger pointed up at you two as if accusing you of a crime.

"I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT- GAY PEOPLE! GAYS! MOZE, YOU OWE ME!! THEY'RE GAY AND KISSING!"

"JIAOQIU, GET OUT!"

[writteninlunarlight-years]

How about the "there is only one bed" trope with our lovely Hazbin Boys; Alastor, Husk, Angel Dust, and Lucifer? <3

Scenarios

I made these two parts because I love all the Hazbin boys, and I am a sucker for this trope. I didn't add pentious because I am not confident writing for him. Val is well, Val. Pt1 Pt2

Adam

It was a fucking shit show trying to find an excellent place to stay on this side of heaven. The big man upstairs decides to pay a visit, and Adam just has to see him in person, as if he hadn't seen him twelve million times before. Originally Lute was going to go with him however a situation occurred with the exorcists, you personally think that is a lie but so be it. Being Lute's little sister and third in command over the executioners, you got the job of babysitting Adam.

It wasn't that you disliked Adam for any reason towards you; Lute made it very clear when you joined the battalion that you were off limits; he could flirt, sleep with, and kill anyone he wanted to. Just not her baby sister. So Adam never really got to hang around you much, probably cause he was so afraid of your older sister. However, unbeknownst to you, Adam had a thing for you; though he knew you were not some innocent flower by any means, he knew that touching the forbidden had its perks; I mean, hell, Eve did it.

Sighing, you found one hotel still with a vacant sign; you thought traveling with the first man meant you had ease of access everywhere fucking wrong. Still, you walked in and managed to book the room. The poor elderly angel, though, was so difficult to speak to; you were glad that you went in, not Adam; otherwise, he would have been a dick. Grabbing your bag and motioning him to follow you two heads up to the room. "Yeah, she said it was pretty big, I mean, it should be for two beds." Adam pouted, "Aw babe, you don't want to share a bed with me? Now is your chance to get in my pants while Lute is gone." You scoffed and opened the door to your hotel for the night. "Yeah no not only do I not wan't in your pants I also don't....wan't..........death......Fuck me."

Adam laughed and walked in behind you, "What? You just told me not to fuck you, babe can't be acting all coy with me." He finally looked up and saw why you stalled. He is so dead when they get home; he should have listened to Lute and booked a room in advance. You sighed and walked all the way in. There was a couch. At least you could take it. You were smaller.

Carefully, you started to make the couch into a makeshift bed. "Hey toots, no, none of that. You get the bed bitch. I am not going to be the first dick that made a woman sleep on a fucking couch."

You looked at him, surprised at the offer. You nodded your head and went to clean up for bed. As you slid into the sheets, you saw Adam in his PJs, trying to get comfy. You sighed softly and rolled over, trying to ignore him, yet something pulled at your heartstrings. Lute didn't have to know. You rolled back over and saw the uncomfortable man, "Um, hey, Adam, come get in bed with me." You could have worded that better, but you were tired. You managed to miss the blush on Adam's face as he heard you.

"Yeah, can't get enough of the dickmaster, huh," He dodged a pillow attack from you as he made his way over. Gently, he placed the pillow between you two and climbed in. Lute didn't have to know.

Come morning, no pillow was between you two, your head resting gently in the crook of his neck, his arm wrapped around your waist while his other above his head. You wrapped one arm around him while the other pulled to your chest. You both had slept through the numerous phone calls from Lute and the meeting with God. Adam didn't mind; you deserved the break, and it felt so nice to finally hold you close to him.

Alastor

Charlie sent you and Alastor on a mission to help gain more sinners. Why it had to be on the other side of Pentagram City near Vox's tower was beyond you. You loved Charlie like a sister, though, so you wouldn't fight, and you may have some underlying feelings for a Radio Host that may have swayed your decision to go along with him.

After a hard day of recruiting and passing out flyers, Alastor was some help. Seeing as all of Vox's cronies tried to fight you both on each street corner, it was finally time to call it a night. You were eagerly waiting for Charlie's call, looking at your phone; she was supposed to book your room for you guys out here. After the extermination, Alastor was still recovering, so his shadow teleports weren't the best idea, lest you both be stranded in the shadow realm.

Your phone finally rang to a cheerful Charlie on the other end. She directed you two to the hotel and asked you questions about the recruitment process. As you two talked, the hotel came into view; you sat off in the lobby, talking with Charlie about the hotel as Alastor got your room key. Soon, he stood before you and motioned you to follow. "Do tell Charlie that if she was going to talk to you all night on the phone, she should have been the one to come, not me." You pouted at that. Had Alastor had a bad time with you? That was far from the truth, though. Alastor had a great time showing off his impressive powers to you even though he was still injured, yet he was jealous that Charlie was taking all your time. "S-Sorry, Al. I think Charlie was just concerned. She wanted to make sure we got to the room safely." All you got in return was a slight hum and static. You sighed, and Charlie tried to cheer you up on the phone.

Alastor entered the room first and halted, eyes wide, "Fuck." You had only ever heard him cuss a handful of times, and without static, too, it must have been horrible. Yet, as you hear Charlie's slightly high-pitched laughter, you know she is up to something. Quickly, your phone was snatched from your hand, static buzzing. "CHARLIE WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING THERE IS ONLY ONE BED."

As Alastor yelled at her, you winced. Damn, was it that bad to be stuck with you? You pushed your way into the room and looked around. It was cozy, that was for sure, only one bed. As you finished, Alastor hovered over you, and you started to make a pallet on the floor to sleep on. "And what do you by chance think you are doing my little doe?"

You blushed at the pet name and shrugged. You made your way to the bathroom to change and take a quick shower, not wanting to ruin Alastor's night any more than you had. Once you were done and walking out, however, Alastor was in red PJs, and your pallet was gone. "Hey, where did my bed go, Al? I worked hard on that!"

Static buzzed softer as he sighed, "You are not sleeping on the floor, my dear. Now come get in bed. I made a pillow wall; it is safe."

He sounded sad about it, but you didn't want to trick yourself into thinking there was anything more between you two. You nodded softly and curled on your side, gently drifting to sleep. You could have sworn that as the dreams started coming, the pillow wall behind you disappeared.

Come morning, you were safely held against Alastor, your back against his firm chest, and one arm caged you protectively against him. His other arm lay under the pillow, probing his head up as he slept soundly, inhaling your scent. As for you, the blissfully unaware dreamer, your hands were cradled against you, and you slowly pushed yourself closer into the radiating warmth behind you. Alastor smiled a genuine smile softly; he could definitely get used to this for you.

Angel Dust

Val had sent Angel to a bad part of town for a shoot. You, being the caring, adoring friend you are, decided to go with him just to help make sure no fans or crazies attack him. You had gone to plenty of Angels shoots and even was propositioned by Val many times. Yet you always turned him down and showed your distaste for the moth. He always said that you would come around. How about not. Instead, you were in love with your best friend... cliche, but he was terrific.

Angel put on his robe and walked up to you. You had been spaced out watching the shoot, thinking about the handsome spider before you. As he snapped his fingers in front of your face, you finally reconnected with the world and looked up at him. "What? Sorry, Angel. What is going on?"

He laughs softly and helps you stand, your legs feeling like jelly from sitting on the sound box for hours. Falling into him, he laughed and helped you right again, a soft dusting of pink across his cheeks. "Ya fine toots, shoots ova' let's head out to the hotel."

You nodded, grabbed your bags, and followed him to the limo that would take you to the hotel. Val hadn't known you would come on this trip, but Val always had Vox book double rooms for the whole crew on far-off shoots. The only person who got a single room was Val himself. Sighing you looked out the window as the ritzy hotel came in to view. "20$ when Val sees me, he will ask me to go to his room again."

Angel laughed and shook his head, "Oh no, Val isn't here; this was an exclusive shoot for a customer. So it's just the cast and crew and you."

You blushed. How did you not notice Val wasn't there? You were so stupid. You followed the crew into the building, staying close to Angel as the key cards were passed out. Your room number was in the 9's; it was one of the lovely posh rooms. Okay, Vox, you did something good for a change. You rode the elevator up and talked with the others as they reached their floors. A comfortable silence filled the small space when it was just you and Angel.

At the ding, you two walked to the room, entering though you both found the problem....it was a sweetheart's room. This was Val's standard room. "Damn toots, there's only one bed. I will go ask for another room, don't worry,"

You grabbed his arm, not even thinking, "No, it's okay. It would come out of your pay, too. We have been best friends forever, Angel. We can share the bed." You gulped saliva building in your mouth. He gave you a soft smile and a nod.

"Alright, no funny business," he leaned down close to your ear. "Unless you want there to be." You scoffed and smacked his arm, heading to the bathroom first to clean up. Angel smirked; he was excited to finally have this chance. He got the bed situated to try and make it more comfortable for you.

As you exited, you thanked him for the consideration and let him shower and clean up. You got comfy on the bed and closed your eyes. You slowly drifted off to sleep, exhausted from all the running around. When Angel returned, he smiled softly and climbed into bed next to you. Gently, to not wake you, he placed his head on your chest, listening to your heart.

When morning came, Angel clung to you with both sets of arms, holding on to you, his head nuzzling your chest and neck. You had one arm protectively around him and the other in his hair. The rest of the crew left hours ago, but you two stayed tangled in the sheets, having a sweet, cuddly morning.

[barbies1shots]

frennn do toxic ex husband or boyfriend sukuna😍😩

i gotchu girl , lemme try my best . jus kno that this will be triggering for some people . also , if you kno anyone who is in any type of this relationship , get them some help . this is lowkey long too :/

☆ - TOXIC themes , mentions of murder , mentions of cannibalism , mentions of suicide , mentions of stalking , abuse , NON-CON , attempting at manipulation , idc how big you are sukuna is bigger , dacryphilia , exhibitionism , overstimulation , somnophilia , reader tries her best to stick up for herself , pet names , ruining of careers , doggy , chokehold , (please lmk if theres stuff i should add .)

read at your own risk .

exboyfriend!sukuna who sees you hang with a another man. sees you smile when he makes a bitch ass joke.

exboyfriend!sukuna who seethes in complete anger after he followed the both of you home. he rembered the address and noticed it was yours. he lost it once you moved and changed states.

exboyfriend!sukuna who sees the man leans down and give you a kiss. and that kiss soon turns into a heated kissing session.

exboyfriend!sukuna who palms himself behind his trousers as he saw the man squeeze your ass.

exboyfriend!sukuna who follows you home and pins you against the door with his massive frame as you were putting your keys in the door.

exboyfriend!sukuna who slaps you after you screamed at him that you'll call the cops.

"We broke up for a damn reason! Get the hell away from me you psycho! Get off me- get your hands off me!"

exboyfriend!sukuna who immediately apologizes with little to no regret in his small red eyes.

exboyfriend!sukuna who forces his lips against yours to shut your screaming up. he has your eyes rolls into the back of your head and making it drowsy from the lack of air.

exboyfriend!sukuna who sneaks a hand into yours and takes the keys from you and unlocks your door. he shoves you into your own apartment and presses you against the door.

"you understand why im here, right?"

exboyfriend!sukuna whispered into your ear as he said hes always love you despite the arguments and the abuse.

exboyfriend!sukuna who says hes incredibly sorry and that hell never do it again.

exboyfriend!sukuna who says that you are the only woman for him, who presses his large head into your neck to kiss you. he marks you up as his hands wander under your shirt, into your waistband of your pants.

exboyfriend!sukuna who strips you out of your clothes with little to no care if you want to be naked infront of him or not.

exboyfriend!sukuna who smirks widly once you came to your senses and slapped him before screaming in his face again.

"Didnt I fucking tell you to leave me the hell alone?! I dont want anything to do with you, Ryomen! you keep hurting me and i want something happy!

"i want xxxx"

exboyfriend!sukuna who immediately slaps a hand over your mouth once you said that mans name.

exboyfriend!sukuna who threatens to chop the mans head off and feed you his remains.

exboyfriend!sukuna who smiles once he knows that you wont try anything.

exboyfriend!sukuna who then resumes taking the rest of your clothes off, leaving you in just your socks.

"you want this right, baby? you dont want your little boy toy to die, do you mama?"

exboyfriend!sukuna murmured into your ear as he picked you up and and sat you gently on your own bed.

exboyfriend!sukuna who catches your ankle in a searing grip once you tried to crawl away from him. your ankle immediately flammed and became swollen.

exboyfriend!sukuna who pressed his crotch into your ass once he flipped you around and ran his large hands up and down your back, thinking of where to put the tattoo of his name.

exboyfriend!sukuna who picks up your legs and bends you into a mean arch, ignoring your pleas at it hurting.

exboyfriend!sukuna who eats it from the back, rough tongue setting pace on everything on there.

exboyfriend!sukuna who laughs widly as you came on his tongue, making everything 10x dirtier, messy and wet. just how he likes it

exboyfriend!sukuna who continues to tongue fuck you and adds his 3 thick fingers to your hole to plunge them in, smirking when hes met with little to no resistance.

exboyfriend!sukuna who watches your thick thighs tremble as you are overcome by immense pleasure.

"you know how i like it, baby- weve been doing it for years. Remember, ma? remember we would come home and be all over each other? and you went and fucking throw it all the fuck away!"

exboyfriend!sukuna who pins your arms behind your back as you tried to run from him pressing his dick into your hole.

"you cant run from it."

exboyfriend!sukuna who slams himself in you without any mercy. he groans out with a smile as he feels you whine, cry and drip all over him.

exboyfriend!sukuna who makes you cum once again on his thick dick, making a mess on his thighs and your bed and throws an arm around your neck, tightening untill your put into a headlock against his chest.

exboyfriend!sukuna who doesnt give up on your cunt and doesnt respond to your attempts to tap out.

exboyfriend!sukuna who only stops once he sees your phone ringing, seeing its a FaceTime request from that.. man.

exboyfriend!sukuna who smiles widely at this and pushes your head back into the pillows, pulling your back into that deep, mean arch and accepts the call.

exboyfriend!sukuna who turns the camera around and points it at your gushing cunt and sweat ridden back.

"who are you?! (name)?! (name) what is this!?"

exboyfriend!sukuna he begins to pound into you extra hard this time. he breathes out heavy moans and small whimpers. he makes sure the phone mic picks up on his and your moans and whimpers.

exboyfriend!sukuna who cums deeply into your sloppy cunt, pulling out and showing the camera the mess hes made. showing the man on the other side, who his bitch is.

exboyfriend!sukuna who grips your hair, only to see you passed the fuck out and laughs crudely at that, he pulls your head back and shows the camera your tear ridden and wet face.

exboyfriend!sukuna who tells the man on the other side that (y/n) is his whether she likes it or not. that no one will want her once hes done with her but him.

exboyfriend!sukuna who runs his hands over your ass and pulling the cheeks apart and takes a picture to post online, immediately getting views and shattering whatever career you had.

exboyfriend!sukuna who shatters your phone after and sits back on his haunches, watching the way your body twitches and skin bubbles up with goosebumbs from the sudden cold.

exboyfriend!sukuna who continues to stare, even as you scream and throw things at him once you woke up and figured what he did.

exboyfriend!sukuna who tackles you and chokes you out against the floor after he pushed you off the bed.

"leave me again, i dare you, baby."

- Aizawas BARB !

toxic sukuna will always have a small place in my heart , though- once again- please know that this is NOT healthy and to help yourself/others if you/they are in any type of toxic relationship .

prt2 toxic!sukuna

prt3 toxic!sukuna

revenge on toxic!sukuna

[luludeluluramblings]

I got to say it's honestly funny that a lot of people forget Bruce's side does have powers. He's the descendant of Morgana. It's part of why no one wants to teach him magic. Not only would he have an extreme advantage, he'd be borderline unstoppable.

(There's also the fact he's canonically labeled as a Meta Human by Amanda Waller and that he's someone she wants for the Suicide Squad. His body absorbed Nth metal, which is literally the cause of Meta Humans on Earth. Though, to be fair, this was after Damian was conceived. So it shouldn't factor into this family gene pool.)

Imagine Small-town!Reader finding out that she's also has an advantage in learning magic?

We’ve all thought of the Hogwarts!AU. Having fun with the Muggleborn!Reader finding out about that fact and going back to school with a “Suck it bitches!” attitude.

I was really having fun with a Winx!Reader, though. I just think it would be ironic for Bruce to have a literal magical-girl (GN!) child kicking ass in frills with the power of friendship while he’s all dark and broody. I really really wanted to do something with this idea. The look on Bruce and the rest of the family’s faces as they watch the however long transformation sequence would be hilarious. (Plus, the whole, adding in the descendent of Morgana thing would make it even more ironic.)

To add the yandere aspect, everyone would be thinking Winx!Reader is too sweet for Gotham and wanna keep them safe. Even after finding out their some all powerful fairy they would still delude themselves into thinking Reader needs protection because of their preconceived notions on Fairies and because that much glitter is not practical. They don’t care if you can kickass with it, the answer is no. (And, then you can have fun with idea of them trying to actually take Reader’s wings for their safety. So messed up.)

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + nine

authors note: i know i've said this before, but this one might be my favorite. there are a few subtle hints spread throughout as well.....

i also listened to the song i named the story after while writing most of this chapter, so maybe recommended listening?

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

cw/tw: fluff, angst, language, inebriation, character being triggered, references to past csa, and suggestive themes

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

masterlist

words: 12k (i can't be stopped, clearly)

And I see a girl Who is learning to trust

---Leann Rimes

In many ways, Roman is a simple man. The kind that believes obvious gestures, actions, or even lack of inaction should speak for itself. That there are some things that are just so clear as day, it doesn’t make sense for him to have to explain himself. 

For him to have to repeat himself. 

Well, that’s gone out the window as of recent months, because he’s constantly found himself having to do just that. And his day is starting off no different with a surprising and unwanted guest showing up at his office demanding to speak to him.

Bayley stands across his desk with her arms crossed and an almost glare on her face. “I’ve been texting you.”

The fact that she even has his number is an issue in and of itself, but he’ll tackle that another day. “I’m aware.”

The avoiding of said texts is that obvious thing that she seemingly doesn’t understand the why behind. 

Bayley nods, very visibly keeping in a comment she’s at least smart enough to not make to the head of the Bloodline. Friend of his wife, or not. “Well, I would like to talk to you.”

Roman rolls his eyes, moving up from his desk to his filing cabinet to swap out expense reports he was trying to review before her rude, unwanted interruption. “I bet you would.”

“Seriously?” Ignoring her once again is the plan, Roman hoping that’s all it takes so that he doesn’t have to lose his temper before he even has his first meeting of the day. “It’s about Solana.”

And that is what finally catches Roman’s attention. He’s quick to turn around, expression suddenly hardened. “Talk.” She has his full attention. “Now.” 

Bayley takes note of how easily it is to gather Roman’s attention with the simple mention of Solana. It’s surprising to say the least and telling as hell to say the most, but she keeps this little observation to herself. 

“We’re having a Cinco De Mayo celebration at my family’s restaurant tomorrow night.”

“What does that have to do with Solana?”

Roman watches her hesitate for a second. “I want to invite her.”

For a split second, Bayley thinks she may have hit a stroke of luck when Roman doesn’t immediately shoot down her request. He seems to actually be thinking about it. And then he asks the question she knew would be the nail in the coffin. “Will Escobar be there?”

She’d like to just say no, as it’s highly unlikely he will attend, Bayley unsure if her cousin is even in the country. But, lying to the man before her has never turned out well for anyone, so she answers as honestly as she can. “I don’t know. You know he pops up at random times—”

Roman doesn’t even need to hear the rest. “My answer is no.”

She can’t be too surprised. Bayley wisely anticipated getting Roman to budge would be damn near impossible, if not entirely impossible.

“Roman—”

“Why the fuck would I allow her to be anywhere around that son of a bitch?”

To be fair, Roman’s relationship with Santos Escobar is tamer than most. They’re not allies, certainly not friends, and he doesn’t hate the man. It irritates him a bit how Escobar is a stubborn bastard and refuses to pledge loyalty and allegiance to the Bloodline, but that anger is eased by the fact that Escobar gives an even bigger middle finger to the Nightmare Factory.

His loyalty is to himself and the Legado Del Fantasma. That makes him a wildcard and potentially dangerous.

Roman won’t have Solana anywhere where danger could be present.

“You know as well as I do that while both you and my cousin have this weird ass Qué en es más macho thing going on, there’s all but a ceasefire. You've never attacked one of his men the same way he’s never attacked anyone in the Bloodline. That’s not going to change overnight just because your wife is present at a chorcha.”

Roman isn’t too full of himself to admit when someone has made a valid point, but as this involves Solana, the standards are a bit different. He won’t give Bayley that much. “Why should I even take the chance? You want to do something with Solana, take her somewhere else that’s on Bloodline or neutral territory.”

“My family’s restaurant is on neutral territory.” Bayley is happy to have another point of his she can counter. “And contrary to what the average, ignorant American thinks, Cinco De Mayo is an important part of our culture and our heritage, Solana’s heritage. I think she would really enjoy herself, that it would….that it would help her feel close to her mom.”

Roman is excellent in the way he remains absolutely unreadable even at Bayley’s point that has him seriously reconsidering his prior answer.

He has no doubt that would help her feel connected with her mom, being around reminders and in a space that’s so representative of half of who she is, who her mother was. He can’t see her not enjoying herself, which is something that doesn’t seem to happen a lot in her life thus far.

Just as he continues to mull over the options, Bayley adds on another defense. “I get where you’re coming from with the safety angle, but I’ll be there and Naomi will be there. Between the two of us, no one will touch her.”

Roman easily reads between the lines and identifies her unspoken request. “You don’t want Solo there.”

On one hand, he can understand it. Bayley not wanting his Enforcer there. Solo’s presence could be seen as him potentially scoping versus the real reason of serving as Solana’s personal guard.

Bayley doesn’t seem to be backing down, reminding with all the confidence in the world of her capabilities. “Like I said, Naomi and I got this.”

Roman will give her that. Bayley and Naomi could fight on his team any day. They’re just as brutal as the men, if not more when pushed. He knows they’d be able to keep Solana safe if need be. It’s that realization as well as the concern of depriving her of something that could make her happy that brings him to a revised answer.

“Fine, she can go.” Roman is quick to add on as an ominous warning, borderline threat, “but if anything fucking happens to her while she’s with you—”

“It won’t,” Bayley vows. “She’s our friend, and she’s family to Naomi. We look out for each other.”

Roman believes that. Believes that Bayley has seemingly pledged a loyalty to Solana that matches that of Naomi, and while he’d never fucking tell her this, he’s grateful she has someone like Bayley to talk to.

At his fill of socialization with people he doesn’t like, Roman is quick with the dismissal. “If you don’t have anything else to discuss with me about Solana, you can get the hell out of my office.”

Bayley is actually surprised she made it this long without being kicked out, so it’s under her breath she mutters, “a true gentleman.” She’s halfway to his door when manners get the best of her. “Hey, Roman.”

He’s back at his desk, gaze as irritated as when she first stepped in. “What?”

With a nod of respect and appreciation, she simply says, “thank you.” Whatever his response, or lack thereof, is after that is unknown because Bayley is out the door and on her way to invite Solana to what is sure to be a night of fun.

________

“Man, I tell you every dish Solana makes seems to get better and better.” Jimmy is rubbing his stomach as he places the now cleaned plate on the coffee table. “Where she been at all our lives?”

Once upon a time, Roman had a nice, quiet house that was his and his alone. Now though, it’s shared with a wife who really isn’t an issue, two obnoxious cousins who need to start paying rent at this point, and a dog who’s currently at the sliding door leading to the backyard having a one-sided bark off with a squirrel.

“Why are ya’ll always fucking over here?” Roman’s question is said with all the irritation manifesting in his muscular body. At the same time, he stands up from the sofa to retrieve the puppy he doesn’t feel like yelling at to shut up. 

She might piss herself in fear or something.

“Come on,” he grunts, leaning over and taking up Dulce who is almost instantly quiet. “Making all that damn noise for nothing.”

Roman places Dulce in her bed in the living room and returns to his previous seat on the sofa when she hops up and walks her ass right over to lean up on the sofa to stare at him with her unspoken request.

Jimmy is the first to notice this. “I think lil Nacho Libre likes you, Uce.”

Jey chimes in between bites of whatever Solana’s latest dish is that she’s made for them. “She know English yet or Soso still got her only speaking Spanish?”

“Man, the dog can’t speak.”

“You know what I mean, motherfucker. Damn.”

Roman ignores the two imbeciles currently freeloading in his house and relents to just letting Dulce on the sofa. He’s not sure why she’s downstairs with them instead off on the second level where the girls are getting ready, but she’s already here now, so no sense in transporting her. 

Dulce seems satisfied with her placement right next to him. 

“I still can’t believe we weren’t invited.”

“I can get why they didn’t invite us, but they could have at least given Nicki an invite.”

Jimmy is quick with the obvious answer. “You know Nicki don’t fuck with Naomi like that, or Bayley, and definitely not Soso.”

“Cause she’s fucking psychotic.” Roman has zero issues with his cousin’s wife having little to no interest in getting to know Solana. It’s for the better. As he said, the bitch is psychotic.

“Once again, Big Dog, you ain’t gon keep disrespecting my wife like that.”

Roman is as unfazed by Jey’s threat as Dulce is. 

“I gotta agree with Uce on that one. Nicki ass crazy as hell. One minute she love you, the next minute she pulling a Left Eye and burning your shit.” That emits a chuckle from him. His cousin's sneaker collection being burned in the backyard that one year was pretty funny. 

“Look, that was during a rough patch. That’s all.”

“Damn bruh, ya’ll must got a whole goddamn quilt then, cause your relationship been nothing but rough patches since we was in high school.”

“So what, you and Naomi never have no issues, huh?” Jey lives up to his hotheaded reputation, jumping into defensive mode. “Ya’ll just got the perfect marriage, right?”

“Of course we got issues, man, but never to the point where she turned into a lil arsonist!”

Completely disinterested in hearing dumb and dumber argue, Roman grabs his phone and shoots out a text.

Roman: You almost ready?

Solana’s reply comes in less than five minutes later.

Solana: Just about…..is Dulce by you?

Roman: Yeah. Sleeping….as always.

Solana: Lol….sorry about that, I meant to grab her before we got started.

Roman: It’s fine.

Roman: I need to talk to you before you leave.

He’s not surprised by the longer time it takes for her to reply. He can imagine she’s reading too much into his text.

Solana: Okay....I can come now?

Solana: I just have to put my shoes on….

Roman: I’ll come to you.

Roman knows better than to ask the bumbling idiots to watch Dulce. Their attention span when they get this heated is almost non-existent, so he opts to just take her upstairs with him, figuring he can deposit her in her bed in Solana’s room and that’ll be it for the night. 

One down.

Two more to get rid of.

Roman is standing outside of Solana’s door ready to knock when it’s ripped open, and he’s met with an instantly smiling Naomi. 

She’s smiling at the damn dog, of course.

“There you are, Dulce.” Roman has no issue whatsoever with letting her take the puppy, talking to it in that weird ass baby voice everyone seems to use around Dulce. He doesn’t get it, but it’s not something he desires to try to get anyway. Naomi calls out over her shoulder, “I’m gonna take her out to pee.”

Bayley shouts from inside the room, “I’ll come with you.”

Roman also has zero issues with that as well. He wants to be alone with Solana before she heads out.

Naomi is heading to the steps when Bayley walks past him, throwing out a rushed, “tell her she looks nice.”

That’s a given, but he gives her a nod, easily stepping in and closing the door behind him. He looks around the room, eyes settling on the connected bathroom where the door is suddenly swung open.

“Guys, are you sure I should wear—” Solana stops when she sees that Bayley and Naomi are no longer present, just him. “Oh, sorry, I thought—never mind.”

Roman would call her out on her apologies, both in the text and just now, but his attention is on something entirely different. 

Solana is fucking stunning.

Her dress is orange, thin sleeved and hugs her in a way that makes his jaw clench and dick stiffen. It’s more low cut in the front than he knows she’s probably comfortable with, but if anything, it accentuates just how fucking nice her chest is. There’s a slight split on the side of said dress that shows off her thighs, thick and soft to the touch, he’d imagine. She also has her hair down, something he hasn’t seen in some time, makeup that covers the scar, and lips painted in a teasing red. 

Roman has to catch himself because for a brief second, he’s tempted to completely change his mind. She looks too good to leave the house, especially without him present because there’s not a single doubt in his mind that she’ll turn heads.

She always does. 

Finally, he’s able to get words to leave his mouth that aren’t as filthy as the thoughts he’s trying to keep locked in the back of his mind. “Jesus, you look amazing.”

Roman has noticed an increasingly difficult time in restraining himself around Solana, not in the sense where he’d completely ignore her trauma and try to touch her in a way that would trigger her. Never that. More so in the way he fantasizes about her in that way, dreams of having her in that way, solely because of his growing physical attraction.

Granted, it’s always been there. 

Anyone could see her beauty even in how she would dress down and try to hide her figure, but now that Naomi and Bayley have been encouraging her to be less conservative in her appearance, it’s increased that difficulty exponentially. 

“Thank you.” The makeup on Solana’s cheeks helps to mask her growing blush at Roman’s unabashed compliment. She suddenly looks down, nervously running her hand down the dress. “Is it….is it too much?” 

Not at all. He might not want anyone else looking at her, but Roman could see her dress like this everyday and never grow tired. Still, his approval isn’t needed nor should she ever look for it. “Do you think it is?”

“I always think it’s too much.” It’s an honest answer, one that’s followed up with a caveat he’s surprised but pleased to hear. “But….but, I do like it.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

Solana’s smile does something to him. She looks even more beautiful when she’s smiling. “Look….” Roman steps closer to her, trying to ignore her perfume, sweet and soft, a dangerous combination that matches her perfectly. “You need anything tonight, you call or text me, alright?” 

She nods and asks. “What about Solo? Isn’t—isn’t that his job?”

It’s not a conscious in as much it is a unconscious thing when he steps even closer to her, moving his hand to the small of her back. Roman gently tugs her toward him, and to his surprise, she doesn’t tense under his touch. “You’re my wife, Solana. My job is always to protect you. He just guards you when I can’t.”

She looks like she’s trying to memorize this piece of information, storing it for future use as necessary knowledge. “Do—do you want to come with us?” Solana’s hand resting on his chest is as surprising as her question. “I could talk to Bayley.”

Roman has never been a social person. To say he hates most people isn’t necessarily an exaggeration. So, the thought of being around a bunch of people he doesn’t know or like outside of Solana and maybe Bayley—she’s not entirely awful—is not appealing as well. That doesn’t stop him, however, from considering the question at hand.

He’s tempted to ask her if she wants him to come, because Roman can find it in himself to withstand socialization for a couple hours. 

He’ll do it for her. 

But, there’s another part of him, a larger part of him that thinks she needs to do this on her own. That she needs to establish a life and something for herself that doesn’t include him. It’ll be good for her.

“No.” Is his final answer, delivered much gentler than if she was literally anyone else. Roman reaches and plays with a piece of her hair. “Not my scene. Too many people.” Not to mention that his presence would draw too much attention, potentially not good attention. He won’t do that to her. Won’t’ risk ruining her night. “Go. Have a good time.” Again, for good measure, he reminds, “but I mean it. Something is wrong. You call me.”

She nods, and he readies to remind her of his need for words when she answers, “okay.” She then adds on, “I already gave Dulce dinner, so she should mostly sleep, but if you could take her outside every so often….”

“I got it.” He’d much rather sacrifice the couple minutes it takes to bring her outside than risk her shitting or pissing somewhere in his house. Granted, he has to give credit where credit is due. She’s doing great with her potty training. Solana takes great care of her, but that’s not surprising. It’s obvious how much she loves the puppy. “You should be back by midnight, though.”

It’s more a strong suggestion than a demand. Solana is a grown woman. He’s not going to dictate what she does and doesn’t do. She’s had enough of that in her life. He had to give his approval for her to go with Bayley because of safety issues, but this, he wants to leave up to her as long as she understands the later she’s out, the riskier things can get.

After a certain time, only bad or not so great things can happen.

“Of course.” She seems to understand this clearly, but he’d also bet that’s her preference to be back earlier than later. Solana grabs her purse and walks towards the door, having to pass him in the process. Roman catches her, arm around her waist. 

She looks up, curious, and he makes note of how she again doesn’t tense under his touch. That’s happening less and less, it seems. 

He likes that. 

“Text me when you get there.”

She smiles, and Roman suddenly feels a layer of his irritation with his cousins melt away. “I will.” Solana gives him one more glance before walking out the room. 

Roman scratches his beard, a part of him wondering if he made the right decision to let her go alone. Granted, he knows he would have never even initially agreed if he didn’t trust Bayley and Naomi’s abilities. 

They’d defend Solana as ruthlessly and violently as any of his best men.

That helps to chip away some of his second guessing along with the fact that this is something she clearly wants, and he wants to give her that. Give her anything he can that makes her happy. 

She deserves that much.  

Granted, that temporary peace is short-lived with the shout from one of his cousins who are apparently still present. 

“Ayo, Big Dog, did you change the WiFi password again!”

________

Roman needs a new house.

Maybe have Solana let him know what she likes as far as interior designing goes and have something built with an impenetrable wall around it.

That seems to be the only thing that will keep his annoying ass twin cousins from being at his place so much.

Roman just knew that when the ladies left, they’d leave too. But no, that’s too good to be true, because they’ve been gone almost an hour, and their asses are still here.

Even Dulce is sleeping peacefully like the unemployed bum that she is in her bed kept in the living room. 

And as always with them, they’ve been talking damn near the whole hour. One would think Roman straight up ignoring them as he works on his laptop would be a clear sign they need to go the hell home, but that would be too much like right.

He either needs an Excedrin or for his cousins to leave, the latter being preferred most. It’s especially needed when they seem to be watching whatever dumb ass Tok or Reel video over and over again. 

“Wait. I know that song,” Jey announces, face scrunched up as he tries to recall the name. All Roman knows is that it’s in Spanish and repetitive as hell on top of being played on repeat. Annoying as hell too. “That lil freak from Miami I used to mess with used to have this shit playing at her crib all the time.”

Jimmy sucks his teeth, asking. “What happened to her?”

“Man, she moved.” Jey shrugs. “She went to go be a freak in Cali.” 

Finally, Roman snaps. “Would ya’ll use some damn headphones or something?”

Jimmy is the first to speak. “You might want to watch this, Uce.”

“I don’t care.”

Jey slaps Jimmy on the arm, knowing how to get his cousin’s attention. “Yeah, why would he want to see a video of Solana?”

At that, Roman lifts his gaze.

Jimmy smirks knowingly. “Naomi sent some videos. Check your phone.”

That would explain it. Why Roman was out of the loop. It wasn’t from Solana. 

He’d selected a specific text and ringtone notification for her, so he wouldn’t be unnecessarily checking his phone. Hence why he hasn’t checked it since she text that they’d made it to the restaurant.

Opening up the thread that has himself, Naomi, and the twins, he sees the set of messages and videos.

Naomi: Having a blast! Solana especially. I kinda feel like the odd one out cause clearly I don’t know none of these dances 😩 I kinda got the Bachata one, but Merengue and Punta are killing me.

Naomi: Bay and Solana keep trying to teach me, but it’s not going well lmao

Roman watches them all. Every video shows Solana smiling and laughing as she dances with Bayley and Naomi. One of the videos shows her and Bayley trying to instruct Naomi who seems to be failing miserably at learning what he’d guess are traditional Hispanic dances. There’s even a clip of her trying to help a little girl learn whatever dance they’re doing, and she looks just as patient as he’s seen her with the kids she reads to at the library.

She looks fucking gorgeous and happy.

He likes that for her. After everything she’s been through, she deserves all of the happiness.

But, it’s in watching the last video with the song that he kept hearing on loop from his cousin’s phone that he understands why they have it on repeat.

It’s a different kind of dance Bayley and Solana do together along with other women he doesn’t know or give two fucks about. What he gives a fuck about and focuses in entirely on is the way Solana’s hips and ass move, rhythmically, teasingly, drawing out an uncomfortable tightening in his pants.

Fuck. 

Roman does his best to push his erotic thoughts away, still trying to figure out how to balance his sexual desire for Solana with the knowledge of her sexual trauma. It almost feels wrong, to feel and want her in that way when he knows how traumatizing that subject is for her. It doesn’t stop the desire though.

“Damn, I knew it had to move, just not like that.” 

“Like water.”

It’s probably a combination of his pent up usual, general and sexual frustration, but the dangerously slow way Roman lifts his head and equally slow way he sets his murderous gaze on his cousins is all they need to see to know they’ve gone too far.

And they know it.

Jimmy is instantly on damage control. “I meant—Bayley—you know, cause she—she’s also thick.”

Jey coughs awkwardly, hitting Jimmy on the arm. “I think, uh, we should—we should head out.” And Roman is just as slowly rising from the sofa when the twins literally almost trip over their feet and make a mad dash for the door. 

It takes a couple minutes for him to calm down, and he too suddenly finds himself watching said video, casually commenting to Dulce, “about time they fucking left.”

Dulce barks in agreement. 

________

Solana laughs along with Bayley and Naomi as they plop down in their seats after an almost four minute song of full out merengue. All are reaching for their respective drinks as Bayley playfully nudges Solana. 

“Aren’t you glad you came?”

Just then, Juanita Escobar walks over, Bayley’s mother who carries the same dimple and friendly disposition. She places her hand on Solana’s back, reminding in Spanish, “you must come back and see us again!”

Solana smiles, agreeing, “I will.” She then looks over at Bayley. “If that’s okay?”

Bayley waves her off. “Are you kidding? With how soft and girly you are, you can come be my replacement any time” 

Juanita glares at her youngest, muttering to Solana, “maybe you can rub off on my Bay, hmm? Never wanted to do girl stuff. Always wanted to fight with the boys.”

Bayley chugs back some of her drink. “Hell yeah.”

Solana thinks she’d prefer the fighting too. Maybe then she could have defended herself better. Defended her mom even.

Juanita shakes her head, looking at Solana. “Yes, come again, child. You look so much like someone, but I can’t put my hand on it. I’m sure my husband would know. He knows everyone.”

That doesn't necessarily make Solana want to come back, meeting someone, a man specifically. However, if he’s anything like Bayley or Juanita, maybe…maybe it won’t be so bad.

And maybe…maybe she could ask Roman to come with her. That’d make her feel moderately to significantly better. Safer, even.

Juanita is soon pulled away from the table by a customer at the same moment Solana’s phone rings.

Roman: You good?

Solana: Yes. 

She bites down on her lip, contemplating if she should hit send on her message. It feels like a risky thing to say, but it’s also how she feels.

And he’s always telling her to be honest with him.

So she is. 

Solana: Kinda wish you would have came.

Her fingers nervously tap against the table as she wait for his reply that ends up coming almost immediately. 

Roman: That’s your world. Not mine.

Roman: Do you not feel safe?

Solana: No, not that. I guess…...Nvm.

Roman: Tell me.

Again, more hesitation, and she’s not entirely sure where this desire to be honest and almost vulnerable with him comes from, but she does her best not to push it away, almost welcoming the slight discomfort that comes with sending such a risky text.

Solana: Idk, I feel better when you’re around. 

He doesn’t reply after that.

Bayley and Naomi share a knowing expression, having watched Solana quietly for the past few minutes. Naomi ends up being the one to lead the conversation. “So how are things going with Roman?”

The question takes her off guard, Solana trying her best to think just how to handle said question.

Roman no longer confuses her. Not nearly as much as her feelings about him confuse her. 

She wasn’t lying. She does feel better when she’s around him. And it’s not even that she feels unsafe currently. It’s just that he makes her feel safe in general. That’s such a foreign concept. One she hasn’t experienced in such a long time. 

If ever.

Because the truth of the matter is that while Solana felt an indescribable amount of happiness with her mother, there was never really safety. Not with her father’s wrath always waiting around the corner.

So while this is new and unfamiliar, it’s also nice, and she finds herself enjoying his presence. She likes being around him beyond the safety aspect. The way he talks to and with her, like he genuinely enjoys their conversations. When he meets her for work and asks how her day was or finds her in the house to see how her day was, it makes her feel like he actually cares about what she has to say.

Like he actually cares about her.

It’s such a stark contrast of how she sees him interact with others. Always on edge, it seems. 

He’s never made her feel that way though. Maybe at the beginning, but that’s starting to feel less like anything he’s done and more like her own trauma.

Trauma….

That’s also been an interesting experience. For the past few weeks, she’s worked out of The Courage to Heal, reading every page as instructed. And it’s been….an emotional time, to say the least. Definitely tears. A lot of them. Mostly shed in the middle of the night when she can’t sleep or on the bathroom floor as she sits against the tub, reading and writing, Dulce right beside her, offering that unspoken emotional support.

It’s been therapeutic and challenging and awful having to confront her demons but also freeing in a strange sort of way. Especially the poems. The words of other victims who express so eloquently and hauntingly beautifully what she still cannot. 

One of the things she’s really latched onto and tries to remind herself of is that there are different kinds of touch. Because of the assault, her brain has naturally associated any kind of touch as dangerous, which isn’t always true. Especially in the past few months. 

So, there’s been a conscious and active effort to remind herself when Naomi and Bayley hug her or playfully bump her, that it’s safe. That she’s safe.

Especially….especially with Roman.

Especially with how touch between them has seemed to also increase over the past couple weeks. Or maybe less increase in levels and more in frequency. She’ll find his hand on the small of her back, or him taking her hand in his, and sometimes, if they’re close enough, Solana also finds herself reaching for him, for his hand, her hand on his chest.

It’s all so innocent in presentation but something much deeper for her. A level of comfort she’s developed with him that she never had in any prior relationship. 

She likes it.

She likes him.

“Solana.” 

Jumping at being pulled from her inner dialogue, Solana remembers the initial question being posed. 

She clears her throat, finally answering, “umm….good. It’s—it’s good.”

“He’s not being an ass to you, is he?” She asks, almost protectively. “I mean outside of the natural ass that he always is.”

Immediately, Solana is shaking her head, almost feeling a duty to defend him. “No. No. He–he would never. He’s….always nice to me.”

Bayley nearly spits out her drink. “Nice?” She coughs a bit, also shaking her head. “Are we still talking about Roman here? Roman Reigns? That man has never been nice a day in his life.”

Naomi shrugs. “I mean, she has a point. I don’t think I’ve seen him be cruel to her.”

Cruel….Solana also could never find it in her to use that word to describe Roman’s disposition towards her. Maybe others, but never her.

Bayley sits on Naomi’s point, suddenly sharing to the table, “you know what, now that you mention it, when I went to go ask him if I could invite you tonight, he was ready to bite my head off for bothering him. But, the minute I said it had something to do with you, he was all ears. Like an instant switch.”

Solana is also all ears, slightly intrigued. “Really?” Doubt and insecurity creeps in as she weakly suggests, “he was probably like that with Samantha too.”

At that, Bayley and Naomi laugh aloud, Naomi nearly in tears.

“Now that is funny. Solana, Roman don’t give a fuck about that girl. Not outside of sex.”

Solana must look unconvinced, so Bayley points out, “think about it. She’s been around for years, and it’s not her he took down the aisle, so…..” She then adds, “arranged marriage or not.”

The girls bringing up their points takes Solana back to her run-in with Samantha in the bathroom and Nia’s jaw-dropping information. 

An idea appears, and Solana is instantly torn on whether to pursue or pop it. Something tells her it’s a bad idea, that she should take his information to the grave, but there’s also that side that feels like she can trust Bayley and Naomi to keep it between the three of them.

Sitting forward, Solana decides to take a risk. “Can I—can I tell you guys something?” Nervously, she stipulates, “but it has to stay between us.”

They look expectedly worried. “Solana, if it has something to do with your safety—”

“No, no that.” Solana almost feels confident enough to say that she’d go to Roman if that was the case. She trusts that she could talk to him if it was something like that.

“Of course, then.”

“Solana, you can tell us anything.”

And for some reason, she knows this to be true. It’s why she battles against her trepidation to open up. “It’s—ummm. I….I found out that when….when Roman was…..having sex with Samantha, he….” There’s a pause caused by the discomfort of such a discussion, but Solana manages to push through. “He said my name.”

Both Bayley and Naomi wear shocked expressions, the former of the two whispering harshly, “holy shit, what?”

Bayley then asks, “wait, how do you know?”

“Nia told me.” Solana has zero desire to wholly revisit that night in the bathroom with Samantha, so she only provides the important part. “She said that Samantha told her friend, I guess. T something?”

“Tiffy.” Bayley rolls her eyes. “Makes sense. That girl can’t hold water.”

“I don’t get it then. He obviously was imagining it was you and not Samantha, so why go fuck her and not you?”

Naomi’s question makes all the sense, but Solana doesn’t really know how to tackle it. This conversation is already difficult enough for her. 

But her face must give it away, Bayley seemingly putting two and two together.

“You two haven’t slept together…..have you?” Solana simply shakes her head, unable to verbally confirm and slightly mortified that it’s reached this level of detail. 

Solana is certain they must have a million thoughts floating around their head, starting with the how and why. That part…..that part she doesn’t know if she is ready to discuss.

An ironic thing considering she’s just started the chapter in her workbook on sharing her story with trusted people. 

The irony.

But instead of invasive questions that heighten her anxiety, Naomi places a comforting hand on her arm. 

“Look, I’ve known Roman my whole life, and the guy has been a dick the entire time. He would never hurt a woman, I know that, but he’s also never given a fuck about any of them either. So for him to be the way he is with you when you two haven’t even had sex……there’s something there, Solana.”

“I agree,” Bayley cosigns, saying what Solana has struggled to admit even to herself. “I think he really does like you. In his own Roman sort of way.”

Solana can’t deny the fact that it’s getting increasingly difficult to push away that possibility, even if she still can’t understand the why.

Just what has she done to deserve him liking her? 

Maybe it’s not like. Maybe he just tolerates her better than he does others for some reason. Whatever it is, she can’t negate the fact that it must mean something if Naomi, who’s known him her whole life, believes that something is there.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Solana just needs to get away. Just for a couple minutes. This conversation took a turn she wasn’t expecting, and she needs to settle her emotions. 

Bayley seems cautious. “Want me to come with you?”

“No.” The rejection is paired with a kind smile. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

And before she can get any pushback, Solana makes her way through the dancing crowd and to the back restroom that she’s grateful to see is vacant. Closing and locking the bathroom door, she goes straight for the mirror.

Despite the unexpected amount of dancing and slight sweat, she still looks relatively the same. 

The same….

Same.

Even with the makeup and tight little dress, she’s still the same person. She’ll go home tonight, take off the makeup and remove the dress to find the same damaged, scarred girl who can never have something like what Jimmy and Naomi have.

Even if Roman does like her, it won’t last. 

She can’t please him. 

She could never make Roman happy, could never truly satisfy him, satisfy his needs.

She’s too broken for that.

It brings tears to her eyes.

Unable to withstand the sight of herself, Solana grabs a couple napkins to blow away her tears, tosses them out and heads out the bathroom. Instead of heading back to the table, Solana makes a beeline for the bar. 

She’s only had white wine, but white wine isn’t enough. She recognizes where her emotions are taking her, and it’s nowhere good. 

Solana refuses to ruin this night for Bayley and Naomi.

The bartender is a young girl, pretty, early to mid twenties. She asks in a friendly, deeply accented voice, “what can I get you?” 

Solana is naive to this, to the great array of alcoholic options that litter the counter before her, so she answers the best way she can. Thinking back to the few events she’d be forced to attend with her father and brother, the drinks she always heard people order before getting drunk.

“Vodka and Gin, p—please.”

________

Meanwhile, Bayley and Naomi sit at the table still partially stuck on this unexpected news. But also not entirely surprising. With how sittish Solana can be at times, they have a good, albeit depressing guess as to why sex hasn’t happened between them.

It does bring up a valid question though.

“Wasn’t the whole marriage for the purposes of giving Roman an heir? How is that—”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Naomi murmurs. “But, I think we both know it’s obvious Solana has some trauma. Touch is clearly hard for her.”

“I know.” Bayley frowns. “I guess I’m just surprised Roman of all people has been so….patient with her.”

“You and me too.” Naomi blows out a breath before again reiterating what she said to Solana. “He must really like her.”

“It’s just hard to tell with him. He’s so damn stoic, but….I think you’re right. I think she likes him too. She’s just…..scared.” Fear is also something Solana deeply struggles with, though Bayley and Naomi both can recognize the progress she’s making towards overcoming those fears.

With a gasp, Naomi grabs her phone, directing Bayley. “Get your phone.” 

Bay is confused but follows suit just as Naomi says, “I know who may know.” 

Less than a minute later, Bayley’s phone dings with a text notification from a new group she’s in that includes herself, Naomi, Jimmy, and Jey.

Naomi: Sooooo, Bay and I were just talking, and between the four of us, how do you think Roman feels about Solana?

Bayley: And please be honest.

Bayley quickly ensures. “We’re not going to tell them what Solana said, right?”

“Hell no. We could never betray her trust like that.” Bayley is relieved but also not surprised. 

Naomi values loyalty just as much as she does. 

Jey: Man, I think he really like ole’ girl. Bruh got her a dog, seems to drop whatever he doing when she needs something, and I don’t think I ever heard him say nothing bad about her.

Jimmy: He was definitely annoyed at first when Soso had her lil breakdown at the Warehouse, but that didn’t last long at all. 

Bayley: Plus Roman is always annoyed with something or someone.

Naomi: Except her 👀

Jey: Why ya’ll ask?

Naomi: We think Solana really likes him too but is scared to push on it because of her past and just don’t want to encourage her to give it a chance if he’s just gonna hurt her. Ya’ll know how Roman is.

Bayley: A certified ASSHOLE. And a hoe. 

Bayley: But, it seems like that’s not the case with her.

Jimmy: I would say he definitely likes her too. 

Jey: I mean they are married so….

Naomi: It was arranged. That doesn’t count. 

Bayley: Do we know if he’s still fucking around? Primarily with Samantha since she’s been his go-to the past couple years?

Jimmy: I don’t think so. Matter of fact, I guess she said some smart shit to Soso in the bathroom on NoC and Big Dog wasn’t having it.

Jey: He’s apparently planning to pay her a lil visit….with Nia.

Naomi: Oh my god, is he finally gonna let Nia kill her?

Jimmy: Naw, just fuck her up real good, I think.

Naomi: Damn.

Bayley: That’s wild for him to cut her off like that after all this time. Def sounds like he likes Solana to me too…..

Jey: Ya’ll really think he about to admit that shit though?

Naomi: No more than she is. He’s stubborn, and she’s so insecure.

Jimmy: Ya’ll thinking what I’m thinking? 👀

*Jimmy changed the group chat name to Operation RoSo*

Naomi: Bae, what is this damn title?

Jimmy: It’s our latest covert operation. We gotta get Roman and Soso to admit they like each other!

Jey: And just how the hell is we supposed to do that? Like Bay said, Uce is an ass sometimes.

Bayley: All the time unless you’re Solana….

Naomi: I mean, not to be vain, but if you look like Roman, you can kinda get away with being an ass. To some extent.

Bayley: You’re not wrong. He is gorgeous. 😮‍💨

Jimmy: He alright, I guess. His ears kinda big.

Naomi: Bae, I love you, but let’s not lie. Your cousin is an asshole, yes, but he’s also fine as hell.

Bayley: That’s not the only thing said to be big…..

Naomi: Girl….

Bayley: They can’t all be lying.

Jey: ANYWAYS!

Jey: What if they’re coming together at they own pace and we should just leave shit alone? 

Jimmy: 😐

Jimmy: That’s about the dumbest fucking thing I done heard all day. What next you gon say, huh? That they just magically gon fall in love on their own too? No! They clearly need our help!

Naomi: Maybe less help and more a shove in the right direction?

Bayley: A gentle push!

Naomi: Yes!

Jey: All I know is if shit backfires, I’m not taking the heat for none of ya’ll asses. Ya’ll gon have to deal with Big Dog.

Jimmy: Then we’ll just put Solana in front of us. He can’t hurt us then!

Jimmy: See…..I’m smart with this shit. That’s why Imma be the brains of this operation.

________

“What do you mean she’s drunk?”

Roman’s night suddenly went from uneventful and quiet, his preference, to unexpected and infuriating, all with a walk from upstairs to downstairs where he finds Solana awkwardly standing in the living room. Bayley and Naomi wait at the bottom of the steps with nervous expressions.

Good.

They should be scared shitless, because one glance at Solana, the gloss over her eyes, and he can tell she’s all but wasted. 

“You were supposed to be watching her.” Roman is fucking irritated. He knew it was a bad idea to leave these two in charge of Solana.

Bayley, however, seems unbothered by his anger. “She’s not a child, Roman. Were we supposed to stop her from drinking too? We had no idea she asked for something stronger.”

It’s an excuse, and Roman doesn’t do excuses. “What happened?”

Naomi answers this time around. “We don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” One. They’re lying, and Roman hates liars. Two. They’re lying, and Roman has literally killed people for less. Three. They’re lying, and he wants to know why. “You’ve both got less than a minute to give me the truth—”

“Look, we talked about some things, and we promised to keep it between the three of us, so I’m not telling you what exactly it was, but I can tell you she’s not in danger.” Bayley is smart. She must know that he’d literally torture the information out of her if it had anything to do with Solana’s safety. 

“It was just…some stuff about her past. I think it may have been too much, and she decided to get drunk to not think about it.” Naomi’s suggestion makes sense and pans out, but Roman can’t stop thinking about just what she shared with them. 

Was it the rape? But why? He remembers her terror in the locker room that day, the fear and pain in her eyes and voice as she pleaded with him to not make her talk about it. It doesn’t make sense why she would suddenly share it.

Even with how close she seems to them.

“Just leave.”

Roman will deal with them later. Right now, his priority is getting Solana settled.

They seem to know better than to push his patience, asking that he at least keep them updated on how she’s doing in the morning.

He neither agrees or disagrees. It’ll heavily depend on how fucked up Solana is. 

Once they’re gone, Roman walks into the living room to find her laid on the sofa, eyes glazed over from her drunkenness but that same beautiful smile on her just as beautiful face.

“Solana.” She’s so gone that it makes him wonder even more again just how upset she must have been. “I need to get you to bed.”

He needs sleep too, feeling the length and weight of the day starting to take a toll.

She’s protesting almost right away. “I’m not t–tired.”

“Maybe not, but you will be tomorrow.” Roman knows she’s in for one hell of a hangover.

“I don’t—I don’t want to sleep.” She’s almost pouting, brows caved together as she stumbles through more words. Solana suddenly stands up, and he naturally moves closer to her, noticing the almost sway she does onto the floor. “I just—have bad dreams and—and you’re just—just gonna leave once I sleep anyw—way.”

“What do you mean by that?” He asks. Getting answers from a drunk person usually isn’t the best or smartest thing in the world, but something tells Roman that Solana is the type of drunk person who ends up spilling secrets. And he’s certain there’s a lot she’s probably still keeping in.

She then issues an unexpected accusation. “You—you’re—you’re gonna go be with Samantha—that’s who you want.”

Roman finds her question slightly ironic considering he’s been letting Samantha think she got away with whatever disrespectful shit she said to Solana on the Night of Champions. He’s letting her think she’s safe and waiting for the right moment to set her ass straight, Nia tagging along to deliver the physical message he can’t.

“Af–after all.” Solana continues, surprising him with her openness that’s most definitely fueled by her inebriation. “Why—why would you want me?” She points to herself, voice taking on a softer, vulnerable tone. “Why—why would anyone want me?”

He’s silent for a good minute, sitting on such a heavy question. “Is that really what you think?” It’s asked in a low voice, and he’s not entirely sure if it’s more him thinking aloud or if he genuinely wants to know if that is how she really views herself. 

She shakes her head, nodding in a way that further signifies how drunk she is. “It’s like you said, I’m mentally u–unstable.”

For a second, Roman’s confused, but he quickly thinks back to their wedding night, to his hurtful words to her. Words he’d give anything to take back now. 

With an almost frown, he acknowledges his fault. “I was wrong to say that to you, Solana. You are not that.” Truthfully, with all she’s been through, even if she was, he couldn’t fault her.

With a family like hers, she never had a fucking chance.

Solana seems almost confused by his apology, taking him back with the next thing that leaves her mouth. “Is it—is it true you—you said my name when you were with S—samantha?”

He definitely wasn’t expecting that, has no idea how she even knows that. Is that what Samantha told her in the bathroom? Why would she? It does nothing to make her look good. Regardless, drunk or not, Roman sticks with his word that he won’t lie to her.

“Yes.”

Even drunk, he can tell how shocked she is by his admission. Shaking her head, she says either to herself or him—he can’t really tell. “I—I don’t get it.” Before he can say anything else, she starts on this train of self-hatred. “She’s pretty and—and—skinny and—she’s not—broken like me.”

That does something to him, Roman moving closer to bring one hand to the small of her back and the other to her face. “You’re not broken, Solana.”

“Yes–yes, I am. You don’t—you don’t know what—what happened to me.” Her bottom lip trembles as she shakes her head, hands on his chest. “I can’t—I can’t do what—what she does—can’t—give you t–that.”

He shifts his hand to the back of her head, forcing her blurry gaze to stay on him. “Baby….” It tears him the fuck up hearing her acknowledge the lingering trauma he’s certain she’ll always carry to some extent, but even more to hear how lowly she really thinks of herself. “I don’t—”

“I can’t—I can’t because—” Her voice cracks, her eyes focused everywhere but him as she almost comes to this heartbreaking realization that her drunkenness briefly helped her escape these thoughts that have now returned. “—b–because they r–raped me, and now I don’t—I don’t know how—how to be with anyone.” She gasps and sniffles, shaking her head. “I should—should have f–fought h-harder—”

“Don’t you ever fucking say that, you hear me?” Roman’s voice somehow contains all the conviction yet gentleness he can muster. Hearing her even think that makes him feel something he can’t fully describe. It’s heavy as fuck though. “You were a child, Solana. It wasn’t your fault.”

“You were a kid.” He has to say it again, because that’s the hardest part in all of this, knowing how young she was. “You should have been protected, and you weren’t, and I’m going to make sure every son of a bitch involved in what happened to you pays for that shit. I promise you that. The same way that I promise with my life, I’ll never let anyone ever hurt you again.”

She’s clearly taken back by his words, by his vow. “I don’t—I don’t—understand w–why? Why—why would you do that?”

Roman isn’t sure he has an answer for that specifically, but he does have something else he can provide her, a small part of him knowing, hoping maybe, there’s very little from tonight she remembers come tomorrow morning. 

“Because someone needs to protect you.” Roman swallows, adding before he even realizes what he’s saying. “Because I don’t want Samantha.” He brushes his thumb over her cheek, intentionally wiping her tears. “I want you.”

And suddenly, it’s so much easier to say it aloud, to voice to her what he still doesn’t entirely understand, why he feels drawn to her in ways he doesn’t understand. There’s a connection almost, a connection of mutual loss that’s formed some sort of bridge Roman is unsure just when he started crossing 

She looks more stunned at his admission than anything else he’s ever said to her. Still, she seems to try to discredit him. “But—but she—”

“She’s not you.” His voice unintentionally softens. “No one’s like you.”

Selfishly, he hopes she doesn’t remember much or any of this conversation, less painful for her, more time for him to figure out what it is about this woman that he feels so deeply drawn to.

Again, she tries to downplay her worth. “I can’t—I can’t—give you what you need.”

And somehow he knows exactly what she means. What she’s referring to.

“I don’t need that from you.” Truth be told, he doesn’t want to need anything from her. Needing anything in general has never been his thing. He just knows that, for some reason, he wants her around.

He likes having her around him. 

She’s blinking again and places her hand against her head, sharing, “my h–head hurts.” It’s not an intentional deflection, he’s certain, but it’s appreciated.

This is a much deeper conversation than he anticipated having tonight.

“You need to get to bed. The sooner you can start sleeping this off, the better.” He eyes her skeptically, asking, “can you walk?”

He should have already known the answer, because the minute she tries to pull away from him to walk, she sways almost immediately, Roman going right back to holding her. “Come here.” He expects her to tense up as he moves to lift her up bridal style, but she doesn’t. She just continues to look confused, clearly overwhelmed with all of her emotions. 

Roman doesn’t say anything as he carries her up the stairs and doesn’t think twice about taking her to his room instead of hers. 

He needs to monitor her tonight, and that’s easier done with her in his room.

She looks around still confused but doesn’t say anything as Roman lowers her down on the edge of his bed. Naturally, he’s on one knee before her.

“I’m gonna take these off.” He refers to her heels which could largely be a contributing factor for her to inability to walk. She nods, and he quickly unstraps and tosses the heels to the side. “Do you want to change?”

She nods and then adds, “I don’t have—my clothes….”

Roman is at his dresser, pulling out a shirt that he reaches to her. “You can wear this for tonight.”

She accepts it from him, turning to walk to the bathroom, Roman relieved to see the removal of her heels helps her to at least make it without falling.

While she’s changing, he heads back downstairs to get Dulce.

He knows she’s used to sleeping with Solana and will probably throw a fit or spend the night crying if that doesn’t happen, so a small sacrifice is made as he also brings up Dulce’s bed from the living room and places it on the side of his bed.

One night of her sleeping in his room won’t kill him.

It’s then that Solana walks out the bathroom, changed out of her dress and her face free from the makeup. 

“I washed my face….hope that was o–okay.”

“It’s fine, Solana.” Roman is half expecting to have to instruct her to lay down, but she again stays with the theme of surprises tonight and walks over to the bed, pulling back the covers and climbing in. 

He’s again ready to explain that he’ll be in the guest room across the hall but will be available if she needs anything. He’ll still be checking in on her occasionally, regardless.

But, before he can explain as such, she asks in the softest, most vulnerable voice, “will you lay with me?”

It’s an extremely unexpected question with an easy answer.

Roman’s answer is to move into the bed with her, half expecting her to freak out in one way or another. This close proximity is so unlike her, a complete contrast to what she’s usually comfortable with.

However, what he doesn’t expect is the way Solana moves her body close against his, pressing herself into his side, arm over his stomach and head on his chest.

In a switching of roles, Roman is the one to initially tense. This is more physical contact than they’ve ever had, and there’s not a doubt in his mind that if not for the alcohol in her system, she’d have a fucking meltdown touching him this much.

But in her drunken, highly intoxicated state, that’s not an issue. She wants to be close to him, wants to be pressed up against him. 

She’s looking for comfort.

And truthfully, he wants it too. Roman likes the feel of her next to him, actually uses his other arm to tug her closer, noticing how she adjusts her head on his chest.

Her hand is planted against his chest, and he starts to tell her to rest, to encourage her to sleep this off. But, she once again beats him to it, asking yet another question. 

“Why—why are you doing this?”

To be fair, Roman only answers her truthfully because he’s betting on her being so close to the edge of sleep that the chances of her remembering this rare shred of vulnerability are slim to none.

“Because—because I know what it’s like to not have anyone.” There’s a sense of hesitation and discomfort as he verbalizes what he’s never once openly discussed with anyone. “Because I didn’t just lose my mom when I was ten. I lost my entire family. My parents. My aunt. My uncle. And all of my siblings. I—I was the only one who made it out alive that night, and I spent years not knowing why, why I was left alone.”

Roman doesn’t want sympathy, doesn’t want people feeling fucking sorry for him. He never has. But the way Solana lifts her head to look at him is a look of something else, something that likens understanding and compassion.

The latter of which is almost an unfamiliar concept. 

“I didn’t—I’m sorry.” She lays her head back against his chest, moving even closer. She then murmurs into him, almost reassuringly, “you don’t—you don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Roman doesn't know what to say to that, so he doesn’t.

He says nothing.

________

Waking up in Roman’s bed wearing only his shirt is the last thing Solana expects along with the fact that the minute her eyes open, she’s hit with instant throbbing of her head.

She winces, confused about so many things as she forces herself to sit up, mind immediately wandering to a single question.

Where is Roman?

Her question is easily answered when she spots the notebook on his nightstand. She reaches for it, squinted eyes reading over his words.

Solana,

I’m sorry I had to leave. I have a meeting with the Elders I, unfortunately, can’t miss. I’ll be back right after.

If not for that, I would have stayed with you.

You most likely won’t remember last night, but you got drunk. Very. You’re gonna wake up with a nasty hangover. Take the Aspirin. It’ll help. 

I gave Dulce her breakfast and took her outside. She should be fine. 

I also let your job know you’re not coming in today.

Rest.

Roman

There’s so much to process in such a straightforward letter. What did he mean by stay with her? Did—did they sleep in the same bed? 

For some reason, that’s not as anxiety inducing as she imagined it would be. She doesn’t know the why or how, but it doesn't bring that heavy weight on her chest.

The drunk part triggers brief memories of the night prior. Bayley and Naomi. The celebration. Dancing. Fun. Happiness.

A switch.

At some point in the night, her mood shifted into something else. Solana remembers asking for a drink, but she doesn’t remember much after that. Glimpses. An almost sympathetic look from Roman. His arms around her. Him holding her.

It makes for a confusing story she doesn’t really have the wherewithal to deal with. She instead reaches over and swallows the Aspirin. 

And she goes right back to sleep.

________

Roman finds himself completely bypassing his office, clearing his schedule, and moving his phone’s status to Do Not Disturb.

He’s not in the mood to deal with any of that shit today. At least not for a couple more hours. He needs to make sure Solana is situated first. 

Thinking about her resurfaces his earlier level of anger at how the meeting with the Elders ended.

“What of the girl?”

This was the part of the hour meeting that caught his attention the most. Everything else was trivial and, in his opinion, a waste of time. But, it’s when Elder Aleki brings up Solana that Roman’s focus is recentered.

“What about her?”

He’s not stupid. Far from it. Roman knows exactly where this is headed. It was partially expected. What he didn’t expect was the anger that’s already brewing at just how Solana was referred to as ‘the girl.’

Aleki is bold with his questioning, jumping straight to the point. “Is she still not pregnant yet? It’s been almost four months.”

Roman’s jaw clenches, and he finds himself squeezing the armrest of his chair as he does his best to keep his voice somewhat subdued. “I’m aware of how long it’s been.”

Another elder, Sione, decides to join in on this conversation that Roman is about to shut down in less than a minute. “Perhaps she should have another medical evaluation. By one of our doctors—”

“The hell she will.”

Rikishi shoots Roman a warning look, quietly, muttering an equally pleading, “language, Uce.”

Roman straight up ignores him. Rikishi still adheres to those outdated traditions that just because someone has more years on this earth than you that they automatically deserve respect. Fuck that. Roman gives respect when it’s earned, and Aleki and Sione have been on his shit list for years.

He’ll never forgive them for their behavior after the death of his family, their questioning of Roman’s birthright to the throne.

Aleki releases a heavy sigh, and Roman has to restrain himself from not bashing the old man’s head into the table. “All we’re saying is if she is incapable of producing a child to continue the Bloodline, then we have no use for her and should seek to find you a better—”

That’s when Roman has enough. To suggest Solana be examined again. which would no doubt be triggering as fuck for her, is one thing. But, it’s an entirely different thing for them to have the unmitigated gall to suggest he get rid of her.

Over his dead fucking body.

Roman shoots up from the chair. “My wife isn’t going anywhere nor is anyone at this fucking table going to make her do shit.”

Rikishi shoots more than just his subtle warning this time around. “Roman, please—”

Roman’s not trying to hear that shit from him, though. He’s not trying to hear shit from anyone. 

“Our marriage is nobody’s fucking business but our own. That includes when she gets pregnant. We’ll share it when we want to.”

Truthfully speaking, this isn’t something Roman has thought much about, an intentional thing. The fact that the marriage was originally and solely arranged so that she could give him an heir is irrelevant to him right now, regardless of what they think.

That’s not a priority. 

“You may be the Elders, but I sit at the head of the table.” The Bloodline has always been successful and profitable, but it’s no doubt exceeded any and all records and expectations since Roman became the head. That’s an indisputable fact. “Don’t fucking forget who made this table what it is today.”

The ending of the meeting is still playing in the back of his head like a bad song on repeat. If not for his semi level of respect and acknowledgement of their standing as Elders, he would have put a bullet in their heads the minute that disrespectful shit started leaving their mouths.

In no fucking universe is anyone taking Solana from him. He doesn’t give a flying fuck whatever the original reason was for their marriage. She’s his now, and nothing is changing that. 

Roman makes active efforts to calm himself before walking back into the house. After last night, the last thing she needs is to be unintentionally triggered. 

He finds her on the sofa, writing in her journal, Dulce right beside her sleeping peacefully without a care in the fucking world. Roman halfway expected her to be out back on the patio, a seemingly favorite spot of hers.

But the sunlight would no doubt exacerbate the remnants of her hangover he’s certain she’s still battling, so it makes sense she’s indoors. It’s when she looks up, noticing his presence that Roman also realizes she’s still only wearing his shirt. 

For some strange reason, he likes that. Likes seeing her in his clothes.

“Hey…”

“Hey.” Roman sits on the sofa opposite from her. He takes her in, watching her set her journal to the side and as he notices her hair is pulled up. “How you feeling?”

She shrugs, making a face that suggests some level of discomfort. “My head still kinda hurts, but I guess—that’s to be expected.” He starts to ask her if she’s drunk enough water, recognizing the importance of staying hydrated a night after heavy drinking, but she’s suddenly pleading with him almost. “Please don’t be upset with Bayley and Naomi. It’s not their fault.”

To be fair, he hadn’t thought about them until now. “They were supposed to watch you.”

“They did. I—I got back fine.” She seems almost worried for them, for their safety. He would never actually kill either woman. He’ll just probably never trust them to take Solana out again in life. But no murder would actually happen. Still, it’s the part where Solana says she got back fine that irks him. He does his best to mask that irritation though. 

“You weren’t fine last night, Solana.” She was far from it, more emotional than he’s seen her in some time, if ever. 

Her shoulders drop, almost in shame. “I don’t—I don’t remember much of it.”

He’s thankful for that. For the both of them. “You were upset.” It’s not a lie nor is it specific. It’s just the truth. 

She then asks with almost hesitant curiosity. “W–what did I say?”

Roman shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.” He doesn’t like being dismissive towards her, doesn’t like being dishonest, something he swore he wouldn’t do. But, she was an emotional wreck last night, and the last thing he wants is for her to go through all of those emotions yet again.

He doesn’t like seeing her upset.

But then she looks at him, studying him almost, a sad, almost tearful chuckle leaving her mouth. He watches as she brings her legs up to her chest and rests her chin against her knees. She asks, volume barely over a whisper, “I told you last night, didn’t I?” Roman realizes it’s less a question and more a heavy realization. “That—that I was raped. Didn’t I?”

It’s a bit of a lose–lose situation. Either he tells her no and risks her feeling bad for sharing something she didn’t have to or he confirms what she already knows and still feels not great.

They’re both shitty options, but he ultimately goes the route of honesty. “Yes.”

“It’s weird. I—” She looks away, eyes shutting for a minute before she unexpectedly explains, “I’ve been—I’ve been working out of this book for people who were…assaulted like me, and I’m–at the part where its recommended I tell at least one person because—because it’s not healthy to keep it to myself.” 

Roman knows exactly what book she’s talking about. It was the key that led to him figuring out just what happened to her. That still fucks with him. Still makes him fill with silent rage at her piece of shit family letting that happen to her. 

“You’re now the first person I’ve ever told.” Roman hates that even more.. Hates that someone like him is who she ended up breaking her silence with. He wishes it was either Bayley or Naomi. They’re much better at this sort of thing. The feelings thing. “I don’t—I don’t like talking about it.”

“You don’t have to.” He isn’t sure he’d be able to control his anger hearing details, hearing anything about it to be honest, not coming from her. His rage would be intractable. 

She nods, almost appreciatively. “That's why sex is—it’s hard for me.” He fully understands that, and a small part of him hates how he tried to initiate that with her on their wedding night. He figured her nerves were because of her naturally anxious personality. Never once did it cross his mind that it was because of something much darker. “And it’s not—it’s not like I don’t think about it sometimes, about being close to someone like that, I do.” This piece does surprise him, but he works hard not to think too much about it right now. He wants to be in this moment with her. “ I—I have. But, every time I try, I just—I get flashbacks, and I can’t.” She ends on an almost whisper, Roman’s stomach tightening as she quickly wipes at a tear. 

He doesn’t like seeing her cry. 

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Solana.” Not him or anyone else, for that matter. 

She doesn’t say anything for a good minute before asking, “what happens now?”

That’s a great fucking question, and he almost has the same towards a lot of things. He’s curious though what she’s specifically referring to. “What do you mean?”

Solana seems almost frightened as she asks, “are you—are you gonna send me back to my father?” 

Yeah, he could have never in a million years guessed that. “Why would you ever think I would do that?”

And he suddenly hates asking, hates seeing the way the emotion builds back up. “I’m not—not a virgin, and—” Her eyes close, her grip around her legs tightening. “You….you only married me because—”

“I don’t care about that.” This is his second time today having to face some level of this discussion, but this round is significantly gentler. Roman does his best to illustrate the conviction in his voice while also being mindful of her emotions. “What do you want, Solana?”

He has no idea what she’s going to say, but he does know for a fact he would never send her back to that hellhole. It would be like sending her to her own death. 

She seems to really think about his question, think about something he’s certain she’s never had a lot of. 

Options. 

Finally, after what feels like hours, she answers. “I want to stay here.” Roman’s unsure why he feels a small sense of relief at her answer, like anything other than that would have made him uncomfortable or upset. Solana wets her lips, continuing, “I like—I like living here.” And in an even smaller voice, she adds, “I like being with you.”

He doesn’t say anything, and neither does she. Roman is certain it’s because they’re both trying to process and register what this may mean, what this new piece of information means for them moving forward. 

Roman sits forward and motions with his index and middle finger. “Come here.”

He sees it instantly. The initial hesitation, the brief flash of fear, but it’s gone before he can offer reassurance. Solana lowers her legs and walks over to him, Dulce remaining sleeping and unmoving. Not once does Roman remove his gaze from her as he takes her hand, giving a gentle tug to guide her down on the sofa next to him. He slides his arm behind her, holding her body against him, his tattooed forearm across her stomach.

Roman watches the way her eyes close, recognizes that she’s trying to manage her emotions. He sees the little nod she gives herself, as if assuring herself that she’s safe. And he swears he sees her mouth as such.

Mouth the word ‘safe.’

Solana moves her hands to his forearm, as if holding onto him for some sense of comfort. 

He does his best to reassure her. “Relax…”And it seems to do something to help her, offering such a simple yet strong form of solace. “I’d never send you back there. Ever.” And that’s a fucking promise. “You’ll stay here. With me.”

“I’m—” Her voice is less emotional than before. It’s still there, but he can tell it's waning with each second that passes, her comfort level growing. “I’m supposed to give you an heir. What if—what if people start—”

“I’ll take care of it.” And he will. He already started with the Elders earlier today, but she doesn’t need to know that. 

She angles her head up to look at him. “But—” 

Roman brings his hand to her face, gently palming her cheek. “I’ll take care of it.” He moves his thumb over the apple of her cheek and part of her scar. “Alright?”

Solana nods with her acknowledgement but says nothing else as she lays back against him. He notices the absence of tension and discomfort. She’s fully relaxed against him, and Roman acts more out of instinct than anything as he presses lips against her temple for a brief kiss, still mindful of her comfort level. “I’ve got you…”

Everything happening in the past few minutes has been both unexpected and confusing, but there’s nothing confusing about the way Solana suddenly turns her body into him, laying her head on his chest. He watches her eyes close, signifying another layer of fear being peeled back. 

He sits there for who knows how long with her, holding her, noticing the slight rise and fall of her body against his, a sign that she’s fallen asleep. He lets her sleep, lets her rest, lets her stay close to him, under him, with him.

Roman thinks back on his question to her about what she wanted. He’s not sure what he would have said if she said she wanted to leave, because the truth of the matter is that Roman’s starting to think that he couldn’t let her go.

That he can’t.

Even if she wanted to leave. 

[cdragons]

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 3

Previous Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But goddamn, Oliver Quick was a fucking close runner-up.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, slight mention of blood, sexual harassment, Felix is delulu and kind of a pig, Reader just wants some fucking peace, Michael is Michael and the best, Oliver is Oliver (the worst)

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who commented and reblogged! I didn't expect this story to gain so many readers, and this was a challenging chapter to write - but only because there were some scenes I couldn't add because it would have gotten too long otherwise.

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

You really wanted to kick yourself in the pants for making such a fucking cheesy wish at night watching the stars with Michael.

Right now, you were leaning to rest your head against a bookshelf in a slant position. You had a splitting migraine that began from the moment you woke up and worsened with nausea from your tutorial. And you couldn’t even go back to your dorm for the rest of the day because your lab course for your gen-ed didn’t allow for absences.

“What’d she do now?” came a voice on your right.

You looked to the right and were blinded by a white and blue-striped button-down shirt with short sleeves tucked into a pair of tan khaki pants.

Your knight-in-silver-framed glasses, Michael Gavey, everyone.

All the guy was missing was a pocket protector with pens and tape wrapped around the bridge, and he would have matched every bullied kid in every high school movie set in the 80s.

You turned around to lean your back against the bookshelves and slowly lowered yourself until your butt was parallel to your feet. Blowing the stray hairs out of your face, you remembered to take deep breaths to prevent you from blowing up at your only friend.

“No,” you sighed, “well – yes, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Do you love your classes? Yes. Was Daria Martin still your art teacher, and did she still like you? Yes. Are the rest of your teachers mostly assholes that think all Americans are Appalachian hill-billies? Also, yes. But were you still not excelling and scoring in the top ten after every exam? Naturally, no doubt about it.

But were you as invisible and unnoticed as you were before the break came? No. Did anyone with a pulse give you side-eyed glances after your stunt with the 24/7 shit-faced He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named? Pretty much, yes. Did most of your problems come from one mythic bitch in a 5’3” flesh suit that had the ‘Juicy’ logo plastered on her ass? Namely, one in particular, Annabel – who was your assigned student partner in your tutorial.

Was your new name among the student body now “Psycho Bitch”? …Unfortunately, yes.

…Okay, so this term has not been going as well as you had hoped during the break.

Annabel hated you – like hated-HATED you. And you had no idea why.

You were pretty sure you were less than blank air to her last term, but now she was determined to make your life a living hell. Last term, she skipped every other session to do whatever Annabel did. But now, it felt like she came to every tutorial for the opportunity to tear apart your work.

You’re pretty confident she was the one who started your new “name” about a few weeks ago when the weather began to warm up.

It’s not as if you were a stranger to being picked and prodded by the people born with silver spoons on their tongues and blessed with golden-tipped wings. You were a public-school kid from grades K-12 who went to Townsend Harris for those last four years. Townsend Harris High School was a public school, but make no mistake – it was just as full of the same bullshit hierarchy that made up every private school in Manhattan.

"Open the doors to all. Let the children of the rich and the poor take their seats together and know of no distinction save that of industry, good conduct, and intellect."

What crock. You only survived those years because every kid knew that your dad was an NYU professor who knew the Dean of Admissions of Columbia. You couldn’t recall how often you wished you had joined your friends at Flushing High or even Bayside.

However, regardless of the snide snarks and bullshit snickers pointed at you, you were left alone for the most part.

Sure – it sucked; that goes without saying. It was naïve of you to assume that people would grow out of the need for drama once they walked through the ivory doors and marble floors of higher education. It was stupid of you to think that everyone would forget about your outburst at Bodleian while they were getting drunk on the New Year.

And while Annabel was one migraine-inducing problem, she wasn’t the worst part of returning. No, that title belonged to her boyfriend, a whole other can of monkeys.

The worst part – the worst part of EVERYTHING – was how Felix fucking Catton was incapable of just leaving you the hell alone. It was like he had a little antenna sticking out of his head specifically for you whenever the two of you were within a ten-foot radius of him. Everywhere you went, it was as if you had a giant blinking arrow above you screaming, “Felix Catton’s New Toy”!

No, you were less than a toy – you were a joke, a gimmick.

God, you should have just stuck to your original plan and applied to any SUNY school that would have accepted you without even looking at your application.

But no, your good-Samaritan-obsessed college counselor called your parents and complained that you weren’t “putting yourself out there” enough. And now you were over thirty-four hundred miles away from home, stuck with the worst people ever. It was like a thousand tiny prickles were running on your skin as your mind filled with static.

Whenever Felix called out to you, it was to invite you to a party or get wasted. One time, he walked up to you insanely plastered and invited you for a quickie in the men’s bathroom. You were in an empty lecture hall since your usual spot in the library was taken, and Michael was still in class, so you didn’t see the point in trying to find an open spot.

Somehow – without you noticing – the guy plopped himself next to you and asked if there were any rooms in the building where he could smoke a joint in.

“Pretty sure you could open the window in the bathroom to smoke in there,” you replied absentmindedly.

And then he put his hand ON YOUR THIGH, leaned to your ear to whisper, “Wanna get out of here to join me? We don’t have only to get high.”

You grabbed all your shit and booked it – out of the building and all the way to your dorm to take a shower that lasted for around twenty minutes. You wanted to get rid of the smell of nicotine and overpriced aftershave. The scent of him on your skin made you wish you could tear it off.

And in your panic, you left your bike at the building’s entrance.

When you returned to retrieve it, it was after dark, and you recruited Michael as your tall and bony human shield.

“Do not ever walk home alone at night,” your mom told you every morning you left for school.

You tried not to think about the haunted look in her eyes each time she told you.

“Wanna skip the dining hall tonight? We can walk to Crowley Street and order take-out at that Pakistani place you like so much.”

Oh, that perked you right up. Jannahs Express was a broke college student’s paradise. The food was cheap, and the owners took pity on the international students. It was slightly more expensive in the UK, but it was the closest you could find with food on par to Kababish on Broadway in Queens. You stifled a laugh remembering the sight of Michael drinking the entire pitcher of water after you dared him to try a dish at ‘regular.’

“Seriously? Do you think you could take more than ‘English-mild’?” you asked as you stood up. “How did you survive your mom’s cooking for so long? She made us Indian food on our last night.”

“Mum grew up in London, and she had neighbors teach her how to make it the traditional way. You’re the only person who could take that level. Lilypad and I got Dad’s taste buds.”

Choking on your spit from laughing at the image of Gregory Gavey’s face turning firetruck red, you felt the migraine slowly disappear.

“Yeah, I’ll bet. God, I can’t imagine the look on his face when –”

A familiar voice that left a bitter taste in your mouth after hearing interrupted your conversation.

“Hey, (Y/N). Can we talk?”

You and Michael turned your heads to find Oliver Quick – Michael’s former friend, your former acquaintance – and the sight of him soured the mood instantaneously. You narrowed your eyes to dangerous slits to show your displeasure seeing him as one corner of your lip curled to show a sneer. You never liked the guy. There was just something about how he acted and presented himself. He had a profound desperation to impress everyone around him.

So much so that he immediately dropped Michael after becoming Felix Catton’s new pet. As evidenced by the oversized gray zip-up hoodie blanketing him. Felix’s, no doubt.

Fuck, you hated him.

“Ugh, what do you want?” you snapped, taking a bit of pleasure in seeing how your voice made him flinch.

“Look, can we –” his eyes hastily darted to Michael, then you, then behind him to make sure no one was watching him “– can we talk in private?”

Seriously? That’s how he wants to play this?

In the corner of your eye, you saw how tightly Michael clenched his fists. He was obviously still hurt from the time his ex-friend treated him like shit.

Oh, this will not do.

“Oliver,” you snarled as you crossed your arms over your chest, “whatever the hell you have to say to me, you can say in front of Michael.”

“Can you please not do this now?” he begged with pathetic eyes. How very in-character of him.

“Tick tock, Quick. Are you going to talk, or do I have to throw a drink in your face again? But this time, I’ll smash the glass on your face, too.”

Seeing the look on his face gave you almost a perverse sense of joy. Maybe this is why bullies exist.

“Do you think you’ll be at the pub sometime this week?”

What the fuck? Was he serious? His question caught you completely off-guard. You expected him to ask for notes or even help with homework, as his grades have slipped since becoming an official Felix Catton fanboy.

“At the pub – Oliver, when have I drunk alcohol in the entire time we’ve known each other?”

“You’ll turn nineteen this year, right? It’s only illegal if you’re under 18,” he tried to put out convincingly.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. But you’re forgetting the part where I’m still an American citizen. Just because it’s legal for me to vote doesn’t mean it’s okay for me to drink yet.”

“No one cares about that here!” he almost shouted. “Just come with me to the pub at King’s Arms for the next few nights.”

“No fucking way,” you scoffed. “My parents would kill me if they found out I drank on a school night. Also, in case you forgot, we still have our test tomorrow in History. And I, for one, don’t need to get sloshed every night to feel important.”

Michael tugged on your sleeve and nodded at the small crowd forming around you three. You sighed in silence, agreeing that it wasn’t worth it. You both tried to walk away, but you were grabbed and stumbled back, which caused you to drop your books.

“Ow! Are you kidding–” but a wince broke your complaint as Oliver’s hold on your arm tightened to a painful grip. Your eyes traveled to his face, and you were shocked to see the anger shining in his eyes.

“Why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?” he grit out. “Are you trying to ruin my life?”

The way his nails dug into your skin made you curse under your breath. Seeing you in pain broke Michael out of his shock at how someone as meek as Oliver Quick could show so much aggression. He rushed to get him off you.

“Are you fucking mental?” he hissed at Oliver once he managed to separate to two of you.

But Oliver’s nail left red scratch marks down to your wrist, even breaking the skin enough to cause little beads of blood to escape. This enraged Michael like you have never seen. Staring at the evidence of his former friend’s clawing, he walked forward and pushed him to the bookshelf before grabbing his shirt with both hands.

“What’s wrong with you?” Michael yelled. “She already said no!”

You wiped the blood off your arm with an old travel tissue pack you stole from the plane you took from JFK to London last summer. God, everyone was staring at you guys now. You needed to find a way to contain the situation. If any staff catches you, all three of you may risk trouble. Trouble that would jeopardize your scholarships. You grabbed Michael’s hands to get him to loosen his grip.

“Look, I’ll hear you out–” you looked around and cringed at everyone’s stares, “–just not here.”

This calmed Oliver’s rage enough to get Michael to let go.

“Okay,” he whispered, “okay – yeah. Let’s go outside.”

The three of you grabbed your shit and quickly exited the library. You went to the same area behind the building with no windows – ergo, no bystanders to gawk at you.

“Okay, we’re outside. Look, I’m sorry about your arm. But can you please just –”

You lifted your hand to stop him.

“Okay, look. I only said I would hear you out to make you and Michael stop fighting,” you stated matter-of-factly. “None of us could afford to get in trouble with the faculty and staff, and it was getting too out-of-hand. Oliver, I am not going to King Arm’s tonight or any night you ask me. I have my own life, so don’t drag me into yours.”

Oliver gaped like a fish for a few seconds before speaking.

“But you have to! Please! If you do, then maybe he’ll –”

“WHO?” you interrupted, shouting. “Who will be there? Who is so important that you act so fucking psycho for five minutes ago?”

This was too much for you to deal with everything on your plate already.

“Cut the vague bullshit already! Why are you desperate for me to be there? It’s so –” You froze as an epiphany struck down you.

Oh, hell fucking no…

“Are you hoping that Felix will be there?” you asked through clenched teeth.

You felt like a volcano ready to blow with his slight nod. And like a volcano – you blew.

“You mean to tell me that you risked all our asses, attacked, and humiliated me for fucking FELIX CATTON?!”

You couldn’t believe it – you couldn’t fucking believe it. Felix Catton took up so much of your life already; once again, he felt it necessary to take more of it for himself.

How much more could one man take? How much more did he want until it was enough?

He had taken so much – more than any person other than yourself had any right to own. Your education, your peace, and what was next? Your body? Your life? Did he intend to bleed you dry of everything like a parasitic vampire he and his kind pretended not to be?

You were going crazy, insane, and running yourself tired all at once. The absurdity of it all made you laugh. You laughed and laughed and laughed until you were gasping for air. You laughed so hard that tears spilled from your eyes as you doubled over.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god! That’s it. Of course, it is. What else could it be?”

Standing straight, you kept laughing, but you were staring at Oliver with an answer clear in your eyes.

“He got bored of you,” you accused him, “didn’t he? So quickly?”

God, how you relished how red his face turned. If you were smart, you would have stopped taunting there – but you were too tired of everything to care.

“It’s been what? A month? Maybe two?” you further pressed. “He really just loves to go through all his toys, huh?”

“(Y/N),” Michael whispered in your ear, “let’s just go.”

He looked at Oliver with disdainful eyes before softening them to look back at you.

“He isn’t worth it. Come on, let’s get your cut cleaned up before we leave.”

You let Michael gently drag you away from the hurricane mess that was Oliver Quick, leaving him to stew in anger and wallow in self-pity on the chilly spring night.

A few days later, you and Michael were walking back to his dorm after watching one of the most notable movie franchises starring one of Hollywood’s best actors.

“How could you not love Pirates of the Caribbean?” you cried. “Johnny Depp is beyond brilliant!”

“Oh, so acting drunk in front of an expensive camera is now considered brilliant?” he quipped back. “Shit, I should have just gone into acting instead.”

“I’m sorry, do you not remember his jar of dirt? That scene was completely improvised, by the way – including his fall.”

“Oh – not the stupid jar of dirt! Lil’ kept buggering me all summer doing that scene after I took her to see it!”

“Oh, I meant to ask. What did Lily think of the books I got for her birthday? Were they weird?”

“Are you kidding? She loved them. She keeps going on about how she wants to be Annabeth for Halloween. Oh, by the way, she’s making me dress up as Luke and wants you to go as Thalia.”

Your jaw dropped in shock. “Seriously?! Yes, let’s do it. I am so in.”

“She is aware that Luke’s the villain, right?”

“Don’t worry about it so much. She wants to share these memories with you. And you are such a good brother, Mikey.”

“I am never going to escape that name with you,” he groaned, “am I?”

“Nope!” you happily confirmed. “Never! When I write my speech at your wedding, I will mention it at least fifteen times.”

“I’ll allow six.”

“Twelve.”

“Ten, take it or leave it.”

“Ten it is. Pinky-swear.”

You held out your pinky to show sincerity. And like someone raised correctly, Michael respected the sanctity of the swear by reciprocating.

“Perfect! Now that that’s settled, is it okay if I crash at your place for the night? It’s so late, and we don’t have classes tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied. “Just make sure you – Annabel.”

Wait, what? You stopped walking and turned to look at your friend in confusion.

“Annabel?”

He pointed it out in front of him with a slight nod.

“Annabel,” he confirmed.

Indeed, it was Annabel. But she was sitting slumped against the hallway’s walls with vomit all over her blue dress.

Felix had been going mad for the past few months since his and Farleigh’s return to Oxford. It was already almost May, and he hadn’t come any closer to getting (Y/N)’s attention.

What could he possibly be doing that was so wrong?

He invites you to parties or a drink with you every time he sees you. He had hoped that being friends with Ollie would have given him an “in” with you, but there was no such luck. Did you really have no idea how he felt about you? How much more obvious could he be?

He remembered how happy he was when he realized that Oliver knew you. It was that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms. He recalled it so vividly.

Felix was silent throughout the entire transaction. The sight of you coming over entirely transfixed him. Your hair had two small braids on the side that were attached with small yellow butterfly clips. You were wearing black denim overalls with vintage-looking patches sewn onto the fabric. Your shirt was a light blue-dyed shirt-sleeved t-shirt with splotches of navy blue. It must have been something you made when you were little. The fabric looked soft and worn down. But the size was small enough to hug the curves of your upper torso perfectly. The way the fabric stretched across your tits made him salivate.

After he introduced himself to you, you only responded with a grimace and a slight nod of acknowledgment. He invited you to join him and his friends for a drink, but you only ignored him. His words were meaningless breezes to you – white noise in the background that added to the clang and chatter in the room. He wasn’t even paying attention to Oliver until you threw that drink at him.

“Fucking cunt-rag!” you called Ollie after throwing Farleigh’s drink in his face. You shoved a middle finger for added effect. “Don’t ever show your face in front of me again.”

Grabbing your coat, you stomped away from the table.

Absentmindedly handing his friend some tissues, Felix had to know what your deal was with Oliver. Were you two dating or just friends? He didn’t know how he felt about his new friend being romantically involved with his angel.

“Wait, do you two know each other?” he asked.

“What?” asked Oliver – not understanding his idol’s question before his mind finally registered it. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, she’s a friend of a friend.”

“Were you two ever, like ‘together’?” Felix had to know.

Oliver’s eyes widened a bit before shaking his head and panickedly answering.

“No, no, no. We have a few classes together – that’s it.”

Felix couldn’t believe his luck. Ollie must really be his hero.

“Do you think you could introduce us?” he asked excitedly – his molten chocolate eyes were shining ablaze with hope.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Oliver quickly agreed – anything to keep his attention on him.

Felix felt like leaping to the sky. He could run a marathon with how much energy was flooding throughout him. He clapped his hands before grabbing Ollie’s face with both hands and smacking a wet kiss on both cheeks.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” Felix went up to get him another pint. “You’re my hero, Ollie. You really are.”

As he lay on his bed, he tried to remember every interaction with you. His last one with you was something he could admit went horribly wrong.

He wandered on the grounds when he stumbled on a building with your bike on the rack. Figuring that you were just in a lecture, Felix figured he could try to catch up with you when it was done. It wasn’t like he had anything important later. He would stay near the entrance and try to catch your attention when you walked out.

Simple.

And because he was God’s favorite, he found you sitting in the middle of an empty classroom. You were taking notes while reading a massive textbook while lightly bobbing your head to whatever was blasting through your earbuds.

Sliding to the seat next to you, he smoothly asked you if there was any room where he could smoke. You didn’t even bother to look at him while answering him – too fixated with your studies to pay attention to him.

Knowing that he had to get you to look at him through more direct actions, Felix impulsively put his hand on your thigh before asking you if you wanted to join him. He even joked, saying that you didn’t only have to get high.

But seeing the terror in your eyes threw him off. He quickly wanted to tell you that he was only joking. If you knew that he wasn’t being serious, maybe you would ease up around him. But before he could apologize, you frantically stood from your seat to gather your books in your bag before running out of the room.

Felix groaned into his hands as he recalled how fast you ran out of the room and away from him.

“Felix, you’re a fucking idiot,” he softly insulted himself.

God, what the hell was wrong with him? Why did he think that someone as studious as you would ever consider getting high with some bloke in the bathroom of an academic building?

Every step he tried to take forward with you felt like he was going ten steps back. He needed to find a way to get on your good side.

Maybe Ollie could – no, that was a dead end. Fuck, he needed a drink.

Lying on his bed, Oliver stared at the ceiling of his room. Annabel had just left with the bottle of vodka they had been drinking out of for the past half hour. He wanted to cry.

Why was everything going wrong?

But he knew the reason. It was you.

He was so naïve to think you wouldn’t be an obstacle. You had practically ruined everything from the beginning. It wasn’t just when you refused to help him the other day but also that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms.

While Felix was ordering him a drink, Oliver sat bewildered at the sequence of events that had transpired in the past five minutes. First, Felix invited him over to sit with him and his friends. And when things had been so well, you interrupted his excellent time by asking where Michael was. When you realize he has left your friend alone, you ask for Farleigh Start’s drink before throwing it in his face. You then called him a “cunt-rag” before storming off like a goddamn child.

Luckily, Felix hadn’t listened to you speak. But that was only because he stared at you – stared at you like he was born to worship you. Even worse, Felix asked him if he could introduce the two of you at some point. The way Felix’s eyes widened in glee when Oliver agreed enraged him – even more than when you insulted and almost humiliated him in front of Felix.

Staring at his back, Oliver figured Felix’s attention on you wasn’t something to worry about. He was only interested in you because you were pretty. As much as you infuriated him, Oliver admitted that you had a rare and genuine beauty to you. He didn’t know whether it was your indifference for Oxford’s gods and kings or your dedication to keeping in touch with your American roots – but it was enough to enrapture Felix Catton temporarily.

No, Oliver Quick had no reason to worry. He would be enough for Felix. And then you would be an afterthought, and he’d be Felix Catton’s everything.

Oliver had to find a way to ensure you wouldn't be a problem anymore. You'd comply - there would come a time when you won't have a choice.

Let me know if you want me to write the full scene of Reader throwing the drink at Oliver!

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @aemondsbabe, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss, @immyowndefender, @ilovemydinoboi, @ahristata, @cxp1d, @jinsoulorbitzen12, @temptation-waits, @bollzinurmouth, @jcngw0ns, @seababehh, @destinydestnation, @lankyboi4, @mindless-rock, @cassavacakes

Please comment and/or reblog your thoughts and if you want to be added to the taglist!

[kiwi-but-the-bird-not-the-fruit]

This one request is for Nefero/ femReader.

For the past week, Nefero has been seeing his girlfriend less and less. His girlfriend has been having out with genderbent!Manny (I'll call her Manuella) a lot lately. At first, he doesn't mind that his darling has new friend. He likes that she's happy. However, He gets jealous. Between class the girls quickly go to the restroom and come out all smiles and giggling. When lunch rolls around, femReader is sitting with Manuella when she and Nefero usually sit together. And when Nefero goes to see Reader, Manuella is by her side talking up a storm. Thinking they're going through to a rough patch Nefero invites femReader on a date on Saturday to smooth things over. But surprisingly Reader rejects his offer and tells him she's busy. Nefero has a lot of pride, he can't bring himself to tell Reader that he's worried about their relationship. On the Saturday, Nefero goes to the mall for some retail therapy. While shopping, he sees Reader and Manuella hand in hand going into a shop. Hurt and crushed, Nefero goes home in tears. Later on, he gets a message from Reader saying she's coming over and she wants to tell him something. Because Nefero ain't no punk, dries his tears, fixes his makeup and meets Reader outside to confront her. But instead of a new girlfriend with her, Reader has a new septum piercing in his favorite color. Wha??? Turns out Reader had wanted the new piercing for some time now so she's been asking Manuella about hers (Side note: Manny from Monster High OG has a ring through his nose or a septum piercing). Manuella been giving her tips on how to care for it and showing cool ring designs. Despite being excited, Reader was a bit nervous so Manuella went with her with for support her to get the piercing on Saturday. She was shaking a bit. so Manuella held her hand to keep her still and steady. The reason why Reader didn't tell Nefero about it was because she wanted it to be a surprise to show off her cool and new accessory. Happy that is was all an misunderstanding. Nefero embraces his girlfriend.

My apologies for this being so long. Thank you for your time.

This is just amazing love this prompt and don't worry I enjoyed reading it your really creative and makes my writing go so much smoothly, so I really appreciate it!

I definitely like the idea of a more vulnerable side of Nefero so I'll make it cannon for their relationship and honestly I was gonna add some vulnerability when it's just the two of them alone

(Also I do remember Many having the septum piercing he rocked it.)

Alright here we go!

__________________________________________

Prompt-The reader hasn't been as active in the relationship for about a week she's hanging out more with Manuella (genderbent! Many) and Nefero is very desperate for readers attention /jealous and oh so secretly vulnerable.

Established relationship

Will be suing [Name] as substitute for (y/n)

Readers Nickname, my jewel/my queen

h/c)= hair color

(h/s) =hair style

(h/t)= hair type

(N/n)= Nickname

(E/c)=eye color

Angts with happy ending

________________________________________

Monster high is seen in plain view, the sky is a fangtastic shade of gray with the big stormy clouds covering for miles

Mansters and ghouls are seen entering the school with chitter chatter all around

In comes a limousine, the door swings open to reveal the De Nile Brothers fighting with each other

"You knew I was gonna use those earnings and you took them!" Cleon yells at his older brother who seemed unbothered by his younger brothers tantrum, he ignores him and walks up the stairs as Cleon keeps on yelling his undead heart about the stylish earing he took from grandmother's tomb.

Nefero walks in and searches around with an almost hopeful stare, yet to the untrained eye that wasn't his girlfriend he looked forever resting bitch face.

He glances side to side but doesn't see a sliver of (h/c) hair around the crowd of onlookers but he doesn't find her, there was pit forming deep in him but he simply moved on with long strides, making every Monster and ghoul to make way his majesty Nefero De Nile

Nefero walks to his locker and finds his girlfriend, he becomes ready excited he walks a little more faster and as he approaches he sees her new friend, her name was Manuella

Normally he wouldn't mind her friends but recently it made him mad how much time the two were having, like somehow he didn't exist in her ethereal world that sometimes he'd look at himself and think he wasn't the one to be in such a presence.

Now he truly felt it, making his skin crawl with frustration and oh so well known jealousy.

It wasn't a good color of him; he'd prefer his signature dark green with ofcourse the fiery red he saw [Name] as.

She wore a apple red skirt and black crop top with a gold skull design, she had on platform heels with red bottoms and her (h/c) (h/t) hair was in (h/s) that had green clips on the side of her head,her face was done softly but with bold red and black eyeshadow.

As he walked towards the two he adjusted his earring which he thought would get her attention for at least a minute.

"Hello my queen" he grabbed her waist leand down a bit to her neck and kissed it softly. [Name] looked at him and smiled sheepishly "oh! Hey Nefie, whats up" she turns which makes his hand leave her waist as well making his body just be in front of [Name] not letting him be as close as he wanted.

"Oh nothing, just wanted to walk to class with you is all my jewel" he took her hand and gave it a kiss. [Name] nodded her head smiling then took back her hand and grabbed his hand, then continued talking to Manuella as they walked to class.

At the very least she was holding his hand so he was happy for the meantime.

_______________________________________

In class it seemed that the only thing that was important to [Name] was talking to Manuella and sometimes he could have cursed that they were whispering at times but he let it go because it could be a personal ghoul problem and he didn't want to but into something that he wasn't needed for.

As time went by Nefero resorted to at least paying some attention to class he twirls his hair around on his finger but his mind still swirled with thoughts of his dearest, who was just inches away from him.

Oh how he craved for her to hold his bicep or caressing his face as she took notes while he looked at her. He keeps twirling his dark teal and gold hair as the class goes on.

*Ring Ring Ring*

The bell announced the end of the class, Nefero got up and was going to get [Name]'s chair and pull it out for her to then be created by an empty seat, he quickly scans the classroom then sees her and Manuella rushing out of the leaving an empty seat with the confused manster.

He looked very dumbfounded for a few seconds to then change up his attitude and continue like nothing happened at all

Nefero is seen walking the hall looking to each of his side with his eyes,he makes sure no one can tell he's getting desperate or that he's actively looking or someone, normally he would announce proudly that he is looking for his girlfriend but he had been feeling unsure on where he stood at the moment

'Does my jewel not love me anymore?! Did she find someone else! She must be bored of me! Is that why?!' The manster is beginning to hyperventilate, be it camouflage by his smirk but his un-dead heart was filled with pressure deep within his chest.

He looks to the side to finally see his darling [Name],walking out the bathroom laughing along side Manuella, Nefero becomes once again jealous on the inside, he was about to approach them but the bell rings for their next class separately since he couldn't bribe bloodgood to have then take all the classes together but she said no but still gave a fair amount he was pleased with that but not fully.

As he watches [Name] and Manuella laugh all the way down the hall till they disappear he feels...neglected? He's not sure but it could be for all he knew, he was not used to this treatment, and as the tall prince stood there in the middle of the hallway almost every Monster was in their class while he just stood there...for a while.

As lunch time rolled around we can see [Name] with Manuella who is talking really enthusiastically to the ghoul next to her, Nefero walks into the cafeteria in hopes to at least be sitting with [Name] and ask her on a shopping date.

'Maybe if we go on a date shopping around will fix what's going on' he thinks as he approaches their usual table to be created by Manuella talking quickly with a bright smile, looking at [Name] making the poor guy frustrated that she was still taking his personal time with his girlfriend.

He shrugs himself up, smooths out his hair back and proceeds to walk up to [Name] with confident strides.

When he gets to her free side he starts to say "hello my queen,are you free this Saturday? I'd like to go with you to the mall, maybe buy you a matching new wardrobe for me and you" he looks at her smiling, expectancy in his purple bright eyes.

[Name]'s smile falters into a sympathetic one "oh Nefie I'm so sorry I can't this Saturday I'm busy that day" she looks down sheepishly and ashamed that she had to let him down on his kind offer.

[Name] felt extremely guilty to do this to her wonderful boyfriend but she would make it up with the surprise she had planed just for him and only him, she just loved Nefero so much,more than words can say,so it really did hurt her to leaving him like this for the past week to plan her surprise with Manuella.

Nefero looked away as he shook his head and walked away quickly out of the cafeteria he would just not eat for now, maybe later, just when he's not distraught and sad.

[Name] watched as her boyfriend walked out in a haste, she turns to her friend "I feel awful, I hope he'll like the surprise but this is killing me Manuella" Manuella reassures her "don't worry (n/n) I'm sure he'll love the surprise and understand why you've been hanging out so much with me this week" [name] nods and gives a small smile "yeah hope so"

_______________________________________

Saturday rolls around and Nefero gets out of the limo that sits in front of the large mall, this was the next best thing he could do for his paranoid brain,he had previously spent the whole night worrying.

But that thought was so silly she wouldn't do that, not after the countless times they shared their most intimate secrets to each other, especially not when they had touched skin with skin in the most close/intimate of positions.

He walks along the endless hallway in the mall, his teal and gold hair sways behind him, the heels on his knee high boots click on the floor.

'No she wouldn't' he told himself over and over as if he said it as many times as he could it would eventually become a secret spell to possibly prevent his worst fear.

[Name] leaving him without a second thought.

Nefero walked along the mall with his servants. He hadn't gone into any store so far but eventually he probably just not as quickly as usual.

He turns a corner and as his eyes redirect landing on a well known figure, it was his girlfriend walking hand in hand with Manuella going into a store

"..." Nefero stopped in his tracks stunned, he stared in shock and disbelief at what he was seeing, there wasn't a good explanation for this, right?!

She couldn't do this to him could she?!!

He quickly turns the other way and starts to run back to the entrance where he frantically looks around "where is the limo! Get it here now!" He yelled at his servants " get it here this instant!"

After several minutes the limo gets there and Nefero practically leaps into the backseat and starts barking others "TAKE ME BACK HOME THIS INSTANT" tears start to quickly run down to his cheek and chin, his usual elegant composure gone and stripped.

____________________________________

In his room we see Nefero sobbing into his velvet pillow he wears a green robe his hair is all messy and stuck to any exposed skin with sweat and tears, there's used napkins surrounded him, an empty bucket of chocolate ice-cream on his nightstand

"*sob**snif*Nefero tries to keep his sobs to a minimum but the intense feeling of betrayal was just too strong so he wept hard not caring anymore, how could he? The only ghoul he truly loved was with another for what it seemed to him, so might as well cry his un dead heart all he pleased.

Nefero looked to the side at his night stand that held the discarded carton of ice-cream and next to it the photo of him and [Name] he'd have to pack it away later, he stared into those (e/c) eyes and felt his own eyes sting from the endless river of tears.

*Buzz* *Buzz*

The sound of his eyecoffin getting a notification made him stop for a brief moment, he reluctantly gets up from his laying position and goes to grab it, he takes in a sharp breath when he sees who had texted him, it was [Name] it read

'Hey! Im coming over, i want to tell you something'

Nefero frowns but decides to at least confront her, he gets up takes off his robe to reveal that he still had his outfit from the mall, he goes to his vanity and quickly reduces his makeup to at least look decent and not like a pathetic mess.

After 20 minutes getting ready (which was shorter than the usual time) he walks down to the front of the house and as he gets to the front door the bell rings meaning [Name] arrived

Nefero walks up, opening the door with a cold expression; he expects to see [Name] and Manuella together but it was just her he raises an eyebrow.

[Name] covers her nose but a grin is still seen from underneath "Nefie look!" She takes down her hand to reveal a green septum piercing.

Nefero stares in confusion "wait what?" [Name] sees he's confused so she goes to explain herself "I know I haven't been as present in our relationship, it was because I've been wanting to get this septum piercing but since I didn't know much I asked Manuella to educate me and help me pick!" She quickly explains

"and so when I told you I couldn't go with you to the mall today it was because I was going to get it but I needed some moral support so Manuella came with me even helped me relax holding my hand since im kinda bad with piercings, remember my belly button piercing and how you held my hand? I need that but i couldn't spoil the surprise" her wide smile as she told the story.

"You.. wanted to surprise me with a new piercing of my favorite color" he gets up close to her face reaching a hand to the side of her face moving her head side to side looking at it clearly "it's beautiful" he smiles relief going through his body that it was just a misunderstanding on his part

"I love it" his darling smiles at him ecstatic "Really!" She holds his hand that was on her face and squeezes it as she jumps up and down "Haha yes my jewel!" Nefero picks her up and swings her around, he sets her down and hugs her tight her chest pressing against his "I guess I need to stop over exaggerating things in my head" he whispers in her hair "what do you mean Nefie?" She asks still being pressed into his chest

"I sort of thought you got bored of me and were cheating on me with Manuella" [Name] gasps "Nefie! I'd never do that!!" She huffs backing away and crossing her arms.

Nefero laughed at her cuteness "yes yes I know I was just...*sigh* very confused and hurt when you started to pull away and be around Manuella, you could say I was jealous she took all your attention" he admitted looking down at his shoes in shame, [Name] gets up close and cups his cheek making him look at her "my darling Nefie I'm truly sorry I made you think that I got bored of you or that I didn't love you,and for what it's worth-" she took a deep breath looking deep into his eyes with a smile.

"I will never stop loving the Manster I fell so deeply for since the first day we met,you are my world you are my sun and i your moon without you my existence would be meaningless without your beams of light I'd be left in the unseen,unnoticed but YOU can see my cracks and uneven edges only you can see up close unlike any other." She leans in and kisses him sweetly on his lips, happy tears start to flow down from Nefero's eyes as he uses his hands to close the gap between them once more and kisses back with just as much love.

The sweet close connection of their lips danced the same tune they've known, tongue's intertwined as passion mixed itself with desire, they stop for air gasping hot heavy pants "thank you my jewel, you are truly my goddess sent from the heavens and to think you would chose me" he steals another kiss.

"I'll always chose you in any life...in any universe" she grabs his hand smiling "Let's go inside Nefie I've missed you~" She purred making Nefero blushed yet smiled at her "lead the way my queen~”

____________________________________________

Hi hi! hope you all liked this one and hope I did it justice, I may edit later maybe change a few things,but for now I'm quite happy with how it turned out thanks for the request!!

@myjerseygirlblog

Hope it's up to your standards and I honestly love your request their so creative and they push my brain to think so if you have any more at any point in time please request away!!

And any other person who wishes to see their request/promt written of any monster high or ever after high character x reader one-shot, please request away as well!

And I feel like I'm getting better in suggestive sensual insinuations? Idk I'm trying my best

Hope ya'll have an awesome day/night

byeeeee ♡♡♡♡

[eyeritestuff]

Eddsworld x Reader Drabbles

———

Characters: Tom

Warnings: None! Might get suggestive though…

Author’s note: This’ll be split into parts :3 How many ? Idk !! I’ll edit this post to add the links if i ever get to it.

—————

First impressions

> Tom is of particular interest to anyone he encounters. He stands out, and not just because of his literal voids-for-eyes, but because of that damn attitude.

> In 2024, it’s addressed as the sassy man apocalypse, but universally, Tom is dubbed an asshole… amongst a bunch of other very colorful colloquialisms.

> When Tom chooses to speak to anyone, it’s not the accent that swings first, it’s the quickness of his “don’t care” response that uppercuts, and he relishes in watching people struggle to find the words to respond.

> For whatever fantastical and universal reason, when he came across you, things were different… and no, he didn’t change overnight because he saw you and it was “love at first sight”. More so, your ability to rebuttal his stupidity stood out.. and he wanted to know what made you.. you.

> Admittedly, when you met Tom, you were hooked. Something about having a taste for men with a less than stellar track record.. and that’s putting it lightly.

> The light and unintentional tan, the eyes, the dirty blonde hair, the piercings, the way the moles on his face were placed in an aesthetically pleasing way… need you go on?

> You pondered if he had any muscle to match the verbal punches he gave those around him.

> He definitely smells like alcohol.. but you’re also picking up the scent of ‘male manipulator’ cologne.. it’s soft but it’s there.

> Totally random, but are those fuzzy dice hanging off the side of his jeans? Amazing. Goes well with the mini harpoon gun keychain next to it.

> “..and this is Tom! Tom, say hi to y/n!” The taller boy in green motioned to the freak in blue, and you beamed as you waved at him. He came prepared, however, with an umbrella that naturally blocked your rays. In other words, he had a resting bitch face.

> Cliche, but you knew that if push came to shove, he cared about hurting others— he has emotions. You just didn’t know how much it would take for him to show them.

> You had all the time in the world… well! Technically, as much time as your landlord wanted to give you when renewing the lease. You and the three taller boys in front of you lived in the same complex. You needed a place to stay while studying away at uni.. and this place was perfect. The fact new friends came with it was a plus you didn’t really see coming.

>“Twiddling with your hair isn’t gonna make it grow any longer.” a gruff voice said. You looked up to match the voice with Tom. His voice sounds like he just woke up from a bad hangover, and honestly you wouldn’t be surprised if that was the exact scenario. Considering, well…

> “And drinking more won’t make the problems any better,” you retorted and gestured towards him and his flask , “exhibit A.” The blue boy was taken a back, clearly by the way his facial expression illustrated confusion.

> “Some people do it for the fun of it.”

> “Some people should really pick up a book if they consider taking a swigs’ a hobby..”

> “Oh really?”

> “Make the book high school biology, yes.” what a nerdy response , you say you yourself.

> The two of you stared each other down. Honestly though, what was there to stare into? Trying to find his soul was like walking in the dark, really. Your peripheral vision caught the redhead and the green hoodie boy fidgeting in place, so you knew to stop here.

> To your surprise, Tom’s face then broke character with a smile.

> Oh.. his smile.

> Toothy, sly, and alluring. Your face was heating up. The way his lips curled.. it was something you wanted to see more often. It’s decided then.

> “You’re different, y/n, I’ll give you that.” You then snapped back into reality after feeling his hand land on your shoulder a little rough like.. especially since the spiked bracelet he wore on that hand jabbed a little into your skin.

> Make no mistake, you were attracted to him surface level. However, you wanted to know more. Little did you know he shared the same sentiment.

How did you find out

> Tom sucks at compliments. No, really! Especially when he’s crushing on someone.

> He doesn’t want anyone to find out. Which is code for he doesn’t wanna seem vulnerable to anyone. His rationale is if he were to compliment someone, that person and the others around them will get to thinking.

> You, however, are blissfully unaware.

> Tom sucks at hiding his feelings. Shit, he sucks at hiding anything in general. He wears his emotions on his sleeves, and then expresses them in a pretty fucked up way. So, no, your ignorance isn’t because he’s good at bottling things in. It’s because you’re genuinely empty in the noggin.

> Everyone around you knows. Tom knows everyone knows. It’s just better if he gaslights himself into thinking otherwise, it helps him sleep at night.

> Your presence amongst the group is almost a daily occurrence. Edd tries to throw hints, but they’re drowned out but Tom’s sudden outbursts.

> Sudden outbursts could range from burping, shouting vulgarities, injuring himself ‘by accident’ and then channeling his inner sailor some more, or punches to the arm of the messenger. You take your guess, he’s probably done the latter.

> Back to the compliments. There was a particular time where Matt and you decided to have a silly little shopping trip. His invite! You guys went around 10 in the morning, only to come back to Matt’s apartment around 8 in the night. To your surprise, you see Edd and Tom already comfortable on the couch. Tom was in a tight band t-shirt and some sweats, while Edd wore a silly creeper onesie.

> “How was the adventure you two?” Edd hums and smiles. You struggled with your bags and gently placed them down to the side. You had quite a few and your arms felt a wave of relief once you set them down. “I had so much fun! Matt was super helpful in my wardrobe cleanse mission.”

> Matt frowned slightly as he set his bags down and his hands magnetized to his hips, “ What’dya mean cleanse? We didn’t buy cleaning supplies!” You giggled at his empty headed moment and changed the subject.

> “Want a fashion show?” You smiled once you noticed Edd’s visible excitement at the prospect. You also couldn’t help but notice Tom shifting in his seat at the mention. You took a glance in that direction and decided to be a little direct.

> “How about you, Tom?” He cringed at your question. Again, not because of your doing.. necessarily… but because he was nervous. His head was being imaginative, put it like that.

> “…Whatever..” He mumbled, and you shrugged it off. Fashion show time!

> You and Matt were having fun doing silly poses and pretending to vouge. Edd was super encouraging, loved every outfit, and even clapping to the music that was playing. Tom, however, was sunken in the sofa with his arms crossed just glaring at the floor.

> Tom isn’t and wasn’t going to praise you. Again, he had a weird stigma about compliments.

> However, those lowrise bell bottom jeans with that studded belt and that fitted sleeved shirt in what he knows is your favorite color. He couldn’t help but stare at your waist and what little view of your chest your shirt had to offer.

> You noticed how Tom rose in his seat, and felt your face break into a sly smile at the realization that he was interested. His face screamed that sentiment. Everyone noticed it too, and it quickly got silent.

> You try to poke. “What’s with the face, nerd.”

> He deflected next. “You look stupid.”

> “Do I really?”

> “Not gonna repeat myself twice.”

> “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I’ve piqued your interest.”

> “You fucking wish. I’d never be into someone like you. Honestly, you’re such an air—”

> “Hey Tom, your face is really red… are you okay?”

> “Yeah.. Tom… you look like you’re suffocating! I’ve never seen you so-”

> Tom threw up his hands in surrender and shouted “I’m out!” With that, he stood up and walked out. There was a brief moment of silence before there was a slam of the door. You looked back at your friends and sighed, “Sorry guys.. maybe I took it too far..”

> “Seriously..?” Matt facepalmed.

> “What..! I Already said s—“

> “What Matt means to say is, have you really not noticed yet?” Edd asked genuinely concerned. You looked at him and laughed awkwardly before realizing he was serious. “What’s.. what.. huh..? What did I do.. wait- what’s going on?”

> “Tom is whipped for you, y/n,” Matt exclaimed, “Even I knew that!” You felt your face heat up and your head whipped around to face both at them.

> “Huh..?” is all you could manage out before you focused on Edd.

> “Yes! He just doesn’t know how to express it.“ You swing your head to look over to Matt and begin to twitch, “He needs to figure it out then!”

> “That’s the thing y/n, he doesn’t do that all the time. It’s just with you. Sure him and I have our moments, and then there was Tord, but those two genuinely couldn’t get along. Have you not noticed that after your arguments how he hides his face-” Matt then interjects, “Or that time when it was your birthday, and he helped you clean cake off your face after arguing about how much of a slob you were,” Edd then copied Matt, “or when you had just failed your chemistry exam, and all you could do was sulk and watch My Little Pony, and so he stayed the night with you saying the excuse that-“ and in unison the two sung: “I’m bored, and terrorizing y/n sounds like fun.”

> You felt your face heat up recalling just those handful of moments. “I thought he was just being a friend…” you mumbled.

> “It would…! If it was anyone but Tom, of course.” Edd chuckled and shrugged. He was right.

> The MLP binge watch weekend should’ve been so obvious. I mean, come on, you two shared a throw blanket and your legs intertwined with his. Tom isn’t touchy with anyone. You had failed a chemistry exam, yes. It got especially emotional since that week you were already feeling homesick, and you had sacrificed phone time with your family to study.. and failure. When Tom came over, you’d cry everytime the episode had a familial lesson— it sucked. Next thing you knew, Tom put aside your one sided beef when he wrapped you into a tight hug.

> “Well what now…?”

> “Run to him!!!” Matt exclaimed dramatically.

> Do you even wanna give the punk rock boy a chance?

How did he find out

> Laying there sprawled out across his bed was Tom. His bed was the safe haven in the mess that was his room.

> Dirty room. Very Cluttered. Clothes scattered the floors, clean and dirty. It smelled like his cologne took a stroll through a bar.. minus the pungent scent of stomach acid.

> His bed consisted of his precious Tomee bear, two pillows with gray cases on them, and 6 blankets. Half of those blankets were throws, but still.. why so many blankets?

> Posters scattered across his room walls. Old band posters, classic anime franchises, and a few posters of video game crushes he had over the years. In the corner was a cluster of polaroids of all his friends! Yes, Tord included… and yes, even you.

> Tom found himself shifting his gaze from the white ceiling to that corner. There was a picture you took where he was caught mid laugh and you took the opportunity and posed with your polaroid. He loved that picture, to the point where he placed it in a position where it would be the first one his eyes went for. That day, he thought you looked the prettiest. Not like you don’t look pretty everyday, it’s just that one he appreciated because you were in bliss. All he could do that entire night was fight back a smile when you smiled, when you laughed, and when you looked at him with those caring warm eyes.

> “What am I thinking…” He groaned and threw his hands over his face. He wants to tell you, trust, he really does! He’s just.. afraid of rejection.

> It’s a pretty typical fear amongst many people. So he wasn’t alone. He just feels humiliated and embarrassed for having weaknesses. What if those feelings transferred to the relationship? Is there even a potential relationship.

> Gosh you were so pretty to him. He loved every detail about you. There wasn’t a moment he didn’t fantasize about you. He’d probably take you to a museum for a first date.

> Tom loves art. It’s kinda obvious. Unless you view music and art as separate catagories that never merge.. then I don’t know what to tell you.

> He noticed what kind of media you consume, which was a lot of animation, and he wanted to explore other genres with you on that first date. So what better place than a museum?

> There was a knock.

> It shook the man out of his fantastical wonderland, and he shot up.

> Tom has this terrible habit of opening the door without checking the peephole. Opening the door he found himself devoid of air coming face to face with the person in front of them.

> It was you.

> You weren’t wearing the outfit you were modeling earlier. To be fair it’s been about 2 hours since then. You were wearing a silly cat onesie, and in your hand was a reusable grocery bag. Unknown to him, you gambled on having a sleepover with him, and in your bag was a bunch of ingredients to make milkshakes.

> He didn’t have the energy to disguise the emotions he was feeling, and leaning against the door frame, he spoke to break the ice.

> “Uhh, what’s- What’s up ?”

> “Wanna have a sleepover?”, you smiled and shifted the bag to the front of your knees and grabbed it with both hands.

> “Uhmm..” he shifted off the doorframe and let out an unsure sigh. Grabbing the ends of his fitted band tee, he pulled and looked behind him.

> “If it’s a mess you’re worried about, I don’t mind! I can even help you clean up.” you offered.

> “Oh no- you.. you don’t have to do that. Uh. I’m down, I was just caught off guard because when you showed up I was zoned out.” he nervously laughed and opened his door wider, gesturing for you to walk in.

> You walked in and set the grocery bag down on the kitchen island to the left. He went straight for the bag and started snooping while you started picking up items to clear the space you were going to get comfortable in.

> “Smirnoff…?” He said in an almost childlike wonder way.

> “Ah, yeah,” you started, “I remembered it was your go to at bars, and I wanted to see how it would taste in a milkshake.”

> Oh you were perfect.

> “Also, Tom, We need to talk.. but don’t get mad with me.”

> Tom scoffed and turned around to start the dishes, “I could never be mad at you y/n, don’t be stupid.”

> “I don’t, actually. I feel like some of our bickers are not jokes.”

> “Well to clarify, I’m only teasing.”

> “Back to the point, Tom,” you started and he hummed in response, “I like you Tom.”

> No.

> “Yeah me too y/n. You’re fun to be around.”

> “Nono, Tom, I mean.. romantically.”

> The sound of dishes stopped with a crash of glass. Nothing broke, but it was loud enough to startle you.

> You stood up and turned to look towards Tom to see him standing there with wide white eyes and a red face.

> “What..?” He said like a child, and it made you laugh.

> “Yeah, I love being around you, I like your presence.. albeit I could live without the insults, but I love your sass and your jokes. You’re funny, you’re pretty, and I wanna know more about you.. more than the Tom I know.”

> “y/n.”

> “Yea?”

> “I don’t even know what to say in this situation, but know I do feel the same. I feel strongly..? If I could jump off the walls like a damn molecule, I would. Y/n, I really like you too.”

> “Oh what a relief. For a second, you had me believing that the boys were wrong.”

> Tom laughed.. out loud. It made your heart melt because it was a genuine one for once, “You dummy! I’m sure you had Edd and Matt biting their fingernails in frustration over this.”

> “i’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner!”

> “I’m just happy you noticed at all.”

[gilverrwrites]

at this point we should give dick a sionis!reader and call it a day 💀 all the batboys have one now except for him (but I have no idea what his plot would look like compared to the other three)

Yeah, Jason and Tim dating with his kids and now Bruce sleeping with his ex-wife, Roman’s hatred of them is becoming more and more justified. . Can I also just add that Roman would be the most miserable girl dad. Imagining him with his 3 bastard girls and ex wife who he's still hung up on but can't win back fills me with joy and its becoming a full on AU in my head.

Anyway, okay, so hear me out with my pitch; Jason/The Rebellious child, Tim/The Favourite child, Dick/The forgotten child

Specifically, one who has tried so hard all their life to not be. Even more specifically, a dancer, a singer, maybe a triple threat. It’s not that you need the attention, you’re good at what you do, you get the parts, you have a small fanbase, you’ve won some minor awards. But just once you’d like to look out into the crowd and see your father or your siblings out there cheering for you.

You try so hard to be supportive of the rest of your family, always there for everybody. You listen to your rebellious sibling and your father bitch about each other constantly, you help them mend their bridges. Rebel is notoriously flaky, but you always step up and cover for them.

You help the favourite study. You were the only one who knew when they started seeing Tim and you helped keep it a secret.

You attend all your fathers parole hearings, all his club launches. You wear the stupid clothes and play the happy, smiling child whenever he wants to show his kids off at events.

But no matter how much you do for everyone, they never return the favour. As soon as you bring up an audition you need help with or a new show you’re in, everybody dips. Nobody takes you up on the free tickets you can get them. When you were training, Roman footed the bills and told all his buddies about his kid the dancer/singer/whatever, but not once did he show up to a single one of your recitals.

But one day, at one of his stupid galas, Dick Grayson catches you dancing by yourself on the patio outside and is instantly smitten.

“Where’s your dance partner?”

“Oh, haha. Can’t you see him? He’s right here.” You jokingly gesture to the air.

“Ah of course, hello sir. Mind if I cut in? Not at all, please be my guest.” He puts on a silly voice as he answers himself before offering a hand to you. “May I?”

And you’re sceptical at first, but you take his hand, and you let him whisk you off. You dance around in circles all evening, laughing and joking, and getting to know each other. You have the night of your life, but dating Dick Grayson seems like a bad idea, it’s not that you don’t want it, it’s just that your dad would so not approve. So, you resolve to move on, but will always remember that magical night.

Until a few weeks later, you step on stage and spot him front and centre in the audience looking elated. And although it's downright euphoric for you to see him there, you're not prepared to face him. Alas, he comes to your dressing room straight after the show anyway. Reaching you before you can sneak out, and confronting you about never calling him back.

You explain your hesitations and that golden child part of his brain understands, his heart aches for you. But he so selfishly wants to see more of you, so he gently mentions how your dad doesn’t seem to care what you do... and hey, maybe he’s out of line here and if you want to tell him to take a hike he will but all he wants is a chance to be a part of your life, can’t you spare him one date? Please?

And damn is he hard to say no too. So, you concede. And one date becomes two, then three, and so on…

It doesn’t take long for you to fall hard and fast for him. C’mon who wouldn’t?

He’s handsome, and charming, funny, smart, and superb dancer to boot.

But what really does it for you is how badly he really does wants to be a part of your life. Dick Grayson wants to dance with you anywhere and everywhere; At galas, in the rain on the way home from a date, in your kitchen at 3AM.

Dick Grayson could listen to you talk about anything and everything all day long. Doesn’t have to be performance related, but he likes it best when it is. He especially loves reminiscing about his circus days with you.

And though his job may get in the way sometimes, Dick Grayson wants to be front row at every single one of your shows. He wants to clap the loudest, and bring you flowers, and tell all of his friends, THAT’S MY BOO up there! From the moment he met you, Dick Grayson could never, ever forget you.

How we feeling about this concept?

[rabbitbonesandsheabutter]

this is quite self indulgent but so is this blog so wtv

i think longlegs would love someone a little more intimidating. Someone who stands out, maybe they dress alternative or just have severe resting bitch face, but they smile so sweetly when they see him. It makes him feel special, first of all, but also he seems really resentful and angry at the world and how people receive him. He’s not shy, he smiles and talks to people again and again but every time he’s met with disdain or brushed off. So the fact that you of all people show him the positive attention he craves already makes him weak in the knees. Add on that you don’t seem to give that to many others or that people assume the worst of you too, and he feels like you mean every kind word and gesture.

If you have a really contrasting personality - whether you’re sickeningly sweet, easily excited or laidback - he’d love it even more. Getting to be one of the few people who gets to see every aspect of you. He’d go fucking feral at all times, when you’re being sweet and nice to him he can’t help it. He might want to restrain himself so he can enjoy your gentle strokes over his hair for longer, but he can always ask you to start again after he’s shown you how much he loves it. It makes him feel like it’s just you two and nothing else matters.

And if he ever sees you being stern and standoffish, he’s cumming immediately then sucking the soullll out of you. If it was in his defence, he’d bawl his eyes out while eating it, too. Which he’d do regardless of your appearance but it’s so much more amplified if he knows you’ve actually scared someone off for him. You?? pretty and perfect and kind, defending him??? He has to reward you, on his knees until they ache and you’re pushing him away, just for him to get up and fuck you stupid bc he loves you so!! much!!!!

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 5. Not A Good Idea - Garrick

One tragic day changes Dahlia's life forever. Despised by her father and brother, she's spent her entire life trying to be the child and sister she use to be. But nothing she ever does is good enough. She joins the Rider's Quadrant to prove them wrong. Garrick now in his second year has proven he is more than the mark on his skin to his fellow riders, and taken leadership of his own Squad alongside Xaden. Little does he know the girl walking across the parapet is about to send him on a rollercoaster of a year.

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” I tell him again as he sits in front of me, placing his plate on the table.

“I told you, it’s fine. Just trust me on this.” Xaden says sternly as Bodhi joins him on the other side.

“What’s not a good idea?” Bodhi asks, looking between the two of us confused.

“The Aetos girl. Your cousin here requested her on his squad for some stupid reason.” I say bitterly, shoving food in my mouth.

Luckily the hall is loud, drowning out anyone that could hear our conversation. Everyone getting to know their new squads or reunite with friends or family they hadn’t seen since being in the quadrant. It also helped that no one really sat near us. The perks of being a marked one I guess.

“And as I keep saying, just trust me. I don’t think she’ll be a problem.” Xaden tells me again. I was honestly starting to loose count of how much back and forth we’d had on this topic since she stepped off the Parapet this afternoon.

“And you saying you don’t think she’ll be a problem is the problem. She’s going to draw too much attention to us from that father and brother of hers. She could wreck everything we’ve worked for.”

Xaden goes rigid at my words. He knows I’d never speak openly about what we’re doing, but he still gets nervous at my hint. His eyes quickly assessing the few cadets around us. But all of them are too caught up in their conversations to hear us.

“In Xaden’s defence she doesn’t seem that bad. Though she really keeps to herself. Don’t think I’ve seen her utter a single work since she stood next to me in formation.” Bodhi chimes in, taking Xaden’s side as per usual. That boy would follow Xaden blindly no matter what.

I look down the table to where she sits with the rest of Xaden’s squad. Like us she’s sat a little away from the rest of the squad. Either by choice or because no one wants to sit next to her. Either way she doesn’t seem to mind. But honestly it’s hard to tell, her face showing no emotion. I thought Imogen had resting bitch face, but she takes it to another level. Thank the gods those two aren’t on the same squad.

“And that’s what concerns me. For all we know she could be putting on an act.” I add, turning back to the two of them.

“You act like I’m going to let her in on what we’re doing.” Xaden says bitterly, almost sounding hurt at my accusation.

“I know you won’t. But she might pick up on something. Hear something. And as soon as she does she’s running off to the Colonel.” I warn, trying to convey how stupid this was despite trusting him on that parapet. Why the hell had I listened and written her down for his squad.

���I don’t know if you noticed, but she didn’t exactly look to be on the best terms with her brother. Both of them looked ready to kill each other as soon as they stepped off the parapet.”

Xaden was right. They hadn’t looked pleased to see each other or even be near each other. But it could all be an act for what we knew. But there was something about the hatred in her eyes. Almost too hateful to be faked.

”I can confirm this. He went looking for her once we got to our beds. She’d already gone off somewhere, but he wasn’t too pleased when the girl next to her bed said she wasn’t here. Stormed off muttering something.” Bodhi adds.

Seems I was out numbered in this conversation for some unknown reason.

“Fine. But don’t get mad when I say I told you so.” I warn, turning my attention back to my food.

“Oh I won’t. You’ll be the one getting mad when I tell you that.” Xaden says smugly before turning to Bodhi and changing the conversation to what had happened in the last five years.

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94

[the--firevenus]

"I have always been told through legends of old"

-

my magister ref sheet <333 a bit of rambles under readmore

truth to be told there isn't much i change except simplified the clothes and add my lil hc spin design, I like to think merlin had marks all over him like an engraving magic tattoo (kinda)

i had a habit of just... fluffing the hair.... i love to think he woke up and never want to touch his hair, permanent bed hair despite hammie effort in wanting to comb it ("magister please take consider of your appearance more!")

his alias name has little to do with canonical merlin mythos and more so to just me picking it cuz i originally want to name him helios, like the god of sun but alas.... i do think its a bit poetic to it cuz he so space theme in my head

originally i want to also put more design sketches especially on his markings! but that maybe for another day, i imagine merlin had it all over his body and not many had seen it cuz guy cover up from head to toe LMAO

lastly, since the game default face to masc merlin is just... resting bitch face, i upped that a bit and make him more expressive! stranger might never notice it but his travels companion probably would, fun teasing victim tbh

[scekrex]

IM BACK WITH ANOTHER REQUEST

i will most likely appear often so HAH

So like adam has a band right? And they make copious amounts of merch, like think adam plushies and shit, and ftm or male reader finds this merch in a random store and just decides to splurge on adam plushies and shirts and all this crap because he wants to support his boyfriend yea? It can be fallen adam or angel adam, adam’s adam lmao

(i wanted to add ftm because i am ftm, u can make it just plain male if that works better!)

Nuh uh bitch, you want ftm so we're making it ftm also this turned out a lil short but I hope you like it nonetheless.

That’s my fucking boyfriend, you intolerant cunts

pairing: Adam x trans!male!reader

warnings: language, reader gets misgendered (once)

note: not beta read bc fuck you

Having a famous boyfriend wasn’t always a good thing, especially when said boyfriend was Adam. It was bad enough that basically all of Heaven knew him for being the first man, the fact that Adam had decided to also be the lead singer and the face of his own band made it even worse, because that gave strangers an actual reason to walk up to Adam and talk to him. And now people did not only know Adam, they also knew you. He wasn’t very subtle about dating you - not that you wanted him to be, you found it quite adorable how proud Adam was of having you as his boyfriend. But Heaven’s people could be complicated and less tolerant - a thing you had to learn the hard way.

The intolerance of people had been way worse when the brunette and you had just started dating years ago, back then people didn’t even know Adam was bisexual. You and him were walking through Heaven’s streets, having a nice chat while also enjoying each other's company. The first man had his arm wrapped around your waist, he made it quite obvious that he liked you, not only by the way he looked at you every now and then, but also by his body language. The tip of his wing rested on your shoulder, he had you pressed close to his side - seeming a little overprotective and maybe even possessive.

That was when a small crowd of people surrounded the both of you, taking pictures of you and your boyfriend without your consent and asking Adam a million questions. Out of reflex you pressed your body against Adam’s side, trying desperately to escape the curious eyes and the flashing cameras. Adam was quick to raise his wing and shield you from their view. “How are you?” one of them asked Adam, not noticing that they were interrupting a sweet moment between boyfriends. “Can we take a picture together?” another angel asked as they took a picture of Adam without his consent. “Who’s the chick you’re hiding?” And that question made you tense up. A chick. They thought you were a woman. But before you were able to correct them, the first man pushed the noisy people out of the way - and let’s just say that he wasn’t gentle about it - as he hissed, “That’s my fucking boyfriend, you intolerant cunts.”

But then there were the bright sides of having a famous boyfriend - the merch. Well, actually there were more bright sides than just merch, but seeing shirts with your boyfriend’s face printed on it was quite hilarious to you and the fact that multiple stores in Heaven sold the merch of Adam’s band with such pride made it even better. The store you were in that very day made it even better. The brunette had told you a couple weeks ago that he and his band were working on selling plushies of themselves - he had explained that chicks loved cute shit and given that the majority of their fans were women that made a lot of sense. At least to you and Adam.

You stepped up to the shelves and took a closer look at the new plushies and you chuckled how inaccurate they looked. You didn’t know whether Adam and his band mates wanted them to look like that or if the production simply fucked up, but knowing your boyfriend and his friends, they most likely were too lazy to design them to look accurate. You grabbed one of the Adam plushies off the shelf - it was surprisingly soft - and without thinking twice about it you put the soft plushie in the shape of your boyfriend in your shopping cart. The other plushies on the shelf followed and the shirts hanging from the wall didn’t remain untouched either - let’s just say that you were quite surprised by how many different printed shirts they had with Adam’s face on it, because fuck, there had been a lot.

When you got back home from grocery shopping a couple hours later, Adam chuckled at how you tried to drag the quite heavy bags into the kitchen before he decided to help you with it. “The fuck did you buy? Rocks?” he joked as he lifted the heavy bags onto the kitchen counter. The brunette opened one of the bags to help you put away the groceries and when he was met with one of the plushies he and his band mates started to sell not so long ago, he raised an eyebrow at you. You simply shrugged, grabbed the bag filled with merch and pulled it off the counter, “Someone’s gotta support your ass after all.” And Adam couldn’t really argue against that.