#and when it's finished i can run my hand over the artwork to feel the texture

[brailsthesmolgurl]

"Where's Mummy?"

A oneshot fluff, entirely headcanon based, featuring all 3 of the LNDS men being a father. Requested by a lovely follower of mine. Hope this is an enjoyable read for you all. The names of the kids are based on my take, but if you want to include names of kids you had thought of with your husbandos, you may slot that in on your own will!

Want some angst? Go with this series of mine, tears guaranteed: Damnation

Warnings: Fluff as per usual however, there shall be suggestive themes for this, soooo let you imagination run free :)

RAFAYEL - FATHER TO A GIRL

"I'll be fine. Stop worrying would you?" Rafayel groaned with a smile. "Our daughter will be alright." He walked beside you, accompanying you towards the front door. "I am more worried about you with your work instead. So take care of yourself, please? For our sake?"

His concern made you rolled your eyes playfully, leaning in to give him a long kiss. "I will be home by evening, I promise." Your eyes stared into those mauve purple eyes of your husband's, only to have him yank you back into his arms and pressing his lips to yours again. Provocating you into a minor makeout session. Breaths becoming heavier by every passing minute.

You bit your lip the moment he pulled away, reminiscing the feeling of his soft and tender lips against yours. "Don't want you to be late, unless you want to call in sick for the day, hmm?" He winked, a hint dropped for you to decipher. "You know I can't Rafayel." Your answer made the man pout, arms crossed, but eventually surrendering to the reality of your situation. He press a small kiss against your cheek and sent you off on your way. He stood at the entryway, watching you get onto your bike and rode it out of the front yard and onto the empty streets.

Heading back in, he sat at his usual thinking corner, eyeing the piece of artwork he had yet to finish. Thomas was expecting this piece to be done by two days ago. But an artist's work should not be rushed, Rafayel being an advocate for quality over quantity. He sighed, walking over to pick up his palette stained with an array of colours, before sitting himself in front of the artwork and continued working on his piece.

Hours had passed since then, the strokes of the painter finally stopped when his artwork is finished. He grabbed his phone off of the coffee table and called Thomas. "Rafayel, where the hell is the piece of---"

"It's done, you can come and collect it tonight once it is all dried up." Rafayel spoke, then Thomas started to inform him about the upcoming interviews that he has to attend, one for the local magazine, one for an exhibition taking place abroad... Pitters and patters of feet across the marble floor made Rafayel lost his focus. He turned around to find his daughter, Mariela awake. "Daddy duty calls."

The phone call ended abruptly, with Thomas ending his note on 'There was also an artwork you have to---' Call ended. Ever since Rafayel had taken on his duties as a father, he made sure his works are delayed long enough just so he could spend time with his own family. Recently, you had been called on for many more missions as there has been a shortage of deepspace hunters.

Rafayel and you had discussed about the delegation of responsibilities while being parents to a newborn. Rafayel insisted that you should quit your job so that you could stay at home with him and Mariela. Money not being any concern to your family to begin with. But you could not, you could not abandon your duties as a deepspace hunter, especially when there are not a lot of new recruits coming in.

So you both settled on a solution that meets both ends. Rafayel would delay his paintings and take care of Mariela if you happen to not be at home, but your sacrifice would be to not work past evening times. Him not wanting you to overexert yourself and still being able to spend time with you as a family. The miniature version of you and Rafayel clumsily walked over to him. Small and chubby hands rubbing her cheeks in circles.

"Good morning my little fishie." Rafayel knelt down and gave her a hug, a usual greeting for morning and night. "How was your sleep?"

"Good." She replied, arms curled around her father's neck as he carried her up in his arms. "Where is mummy?"

"Mummy has to work so today, you will hang out with daddy, yeah?" Rafayel sat her at her baby chair by the dining table. He took a plate of ready-made mini pancakes and poured a cup of warm milk into a cup. "Mummy even made you your favourite breakfast." The idea of having his kid eating such sugary stuffs in the morning is unfavoured. But since y/n had woken up extra early today to prepare the breakfast for her daughter, Rafayel will let it slide for this once. but we all know he too soft of a father to reject that if it ever happens again

Watching his child dig into the pancakes, Rafayel started allowing his mind to wander. Mariela's name came about while his wife was pregnant, and you had both agreed on wanting your child to have names related to the sea to remind the child's origins of being half-Lemurian. Rafayel was thrilled to have their names being related to the waters he used to live in and so the naming process is entirely within his control. Both of you settled on Mariela eventually, the name a direct representation of the star of the sea.

...

When y/n rode past the main gates and towards the yard, you found you husband, with your daughter standing next to him, waiting for you at the front of the door. Mariela the size of a toadstool next to her 6' tall father. But her big, doe-like eyes took the shade of Rafayel's, a mirror of his lilac-blue mixture. "Hey there!" You greeted excitedly, quickly pushing yourself off of your motorbike and rushed over to hug your daughter tightly in your arms.

"Mummy!" The brunette toddler giggled, arms wrapped around her mother and head tucked into your neck. The hug between the two was interrupted with Rafayel hugging both of them. Three of them within a circle of a hug. "Hi, mummy. I missed you."

"I missed you too, so so much." A big kiss was given to the toddler's cheek and they all walked further into the house. "What did you do with daddy today?"

"Daddy taught me how to draw fish and he taught me Wewuma." She spoke, a wide grin evident on her cherubic cheeks. This made y/n confused and you turned to look for Rafayel for an explanation but sees him being on the phone. Assuming it is Thomas on the other end of the line.

"That's good darling." You held her close to you, legs directing towards her bedroom. "But I think it is nap time for you okay? Mummy and daddy will make dinner and then later we are going to have pasta!" Mariela's eyes lit up at the word 'pasta', for she is a huge lover of carbs just like you. No doubt you two are of the same bloodline.

Once you had laid your daughter to nap, you started prepping the ingredients in the huge kitchen. Rafayel came by your side and hugged you from behind, breathing in your scent deeply. "I missed you wifey." He mumbled into the crooks of your neck and drew circles on the side of your hips.

"What is wewuma?" You turned over slightly, the question directed towards your husband. But his expression matches yours, confusion written all over his face. "Our daughter said you taught her wewuma today."

That sentence made Rafayel laughed, releasing you from his embrace and with him smacking his hand against the marble counter a couple of times. "Wewuma!" He continued his laugh, but mellowed down when he noticed that you became more confused than ever. "I taught her how to speak Lemurian." He said, the wide, cheeky grin not leaving his face anytime soon.

"Oh." Realisation hits you about his lesson for the day and you shake your head, chuckling at how your daughter had the word pronounced earlier. You can't blame her, as she is not a preschooler yet. Rafayel attached himself to your back again, his lips pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear and you blushed. Despite being married for quite some time, his intimate actions never failed to make you feel like a giddy teen girl.

"Lemurian is already a dying language. So, wifey..." He nibbled your ears lightly, whispering his question quietly. "How about we make one more little us?" His arms tightened around your hips and you felt something pressed against your bum, making you gasped in teasing pleasure. He turned you around forcefully and pushed you up onto the kitchen counter effortlessly, spreading your legs. "Right here. Tonight."

˚ · • . ° .

ZAYNE - FATHER TO A PAIR OF TWINS

"Thanks a lot, my love." You leaned forward to hug your husband, after knowing that he had planned an itinerary for you to get yourself pampered for a whole day. That includes making the necessary bookings and paying for all of the expenses. Not to mention the extra money he had given you so you may use it to buy anything you please from the mall you would be visiting later in your itinerary. "You deserve it. Given how much you had cared for the kids the past few days as I was busy with work." He leaned down slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as a loving gesture. "In return, I shall take care of the kids today."

Zayne fetched you to the middle of Linkon city, where all of the activities planned out in the itinerary are located before he headed back. Not wanting to go home to his toddlers being awake from their sleep. When he arrived home, he heard the creak of a door as he was placing his shoes on the shoe rack. Lumi and Iver, hand in hand, facing their father.

"Daddy?" The both of them spoke in sync, given their connection as twins. Fraternal twins, a rare occurrence for any mothers in life. They are considered a miracle given the statistics whereas out of 100 births that happen, only 2 mothers would end up with fraternal twins. And the percentage of getting fraternal twins are way lesser as compared to conceiving twins of the same gender.

Short way to put it, y/n and Zayne have a very special family, in fact they may be one of the few families within Linkon city to have a pair of fraternal twins. Hence, they are very lucky indeed. Both of the twins were named after snow or winter season, with Zayne's evol being the main inspiration. Zayne's daughter Lumi, carries the meaning of snow and light, while Iver's name means winter in French.

Contrary to their names, none of them have any features that are pale as the cold weather, except for their milky white skin. There had always been a debate on which child inherited the looks of which parent, in this case, Lumi looks like her mother and Iver takes on his father's looks. And it could easily be differentiated from their hair and eye colour.

"Both of you just woke up?" Zayne's voice was gentle, going over to both of his kids and bending down to their eye level. They are both 3 years old, so you can imagine how tough it was for him to lower his height just to meet their eyes. "What do you want to eat?"

"Daddy, can we watch you make eggs?" Iver asked, his hazel green orbs twinkled under the sun rays shining in through their sky light. "The ones that are flat?" He even used his hand to draw a line in the air, to demonstrate the word 'flat' to his father.

Zayne smiled, nodding his head and walked towards the kitchen with the two toddlers bobbing behind him. Their standard breakfast had consisted of nothing but nutritious food which are vital for their growths. For their father is a doctor afterall. Zayne sat them both into their respective baby chairs and put on an apron, not wanting to dirty his outfit, and he started to cook, with the twins watching his every move. A few 'wah' and 'daddy, daddy, do it again!' slipping from their mouths every once in a while when Zayne does something out of the blue.

Half of the day passed, Lumi and Iver sat in the living room after Zayne had given them a bath and a change of clothings. They will be heading out soon for dinner. Zayne has never been a huge fan of cooking, but only does it out of necessity. The same rule applies even now, breakfasts can be done at home but for dinners, if time allows for both of the parents, Zayne would much rather eat out with his family.

"Daddy, time! Time!" Lumi shouted from the living room when they heard the cuckoo's chime, hailing from the handmade wooden clock that you bought a while ago. Although the toddlers had yet to enter pre-school, they are both surprisingly fast-learners. 9 months in, both of them had already started learning alphabets, and by now, their vocabulary has expanded beyond the age of usual three year olds. You strongly believe Zayne's genes are the cause behind this.

Zayne appeared from the room, a long-sleeved black turtleneck clad to his well-built physique, his iconic black slacks makes yet another appearance, and his hand held a dark grey coat. The weather was getting chilly and he decided to bring along a coat for you, the colour identical to his.

"Lumi, Iver, get your coats and I will help you to wear them." Zayne instructed, picking his car key off of the key holder on the wall. He had decided to go with the Maserati Levante i am not sponsored by them but the cars does scream his taste today, a comfortable SUV for his family of four.

"It's okay daddy. Iver will help me." Lumi responded, arms held up horizontally as Iver put on one of the sleeves for her light grey coat, then running over to the other side to help her to put on the remaining sleeves. "My turn." Lumi did the same for her sibling. When they are both done, they walked over to Zayne and held their arms up in sync again, urging their father silently to help them to tie their coats.

Zayne did just that, hair as dark as the night cascading in front his face when he bent down to help his kids tied a knot to secure their coats. Satisfied at the way their knots turned out, he gave each of them a kiss on their cheeks. "Are you both excited to see mummy?"

"YES!" Both of the kids shouted, arms raising, a sign of elatedness. Zayne held onto both of their hands, one on each side and slowly walked them to the car.

...

Zayne had chosen a western restaurant for dinner, reservation timing marked at 6pm. Now, here he sat, with both of his kids secured tightly behind in baby car seats. He was parked temporarily at the valet parking, patiently waiting for his wife. Soft piano music was played in the car to ease the silence as the kids were sound asleep in the back.

Seeing a familiar figure closing in, Zayne got out of the car and walked towards the passenger side, greeting you with a warm hug. "I could not have asked for a better day to pamper myself." You sighed contently, face flat against his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. A scent he would only use whenever he is out with you, a soft mix of pine wood and oakwood as the top notes, vanilla as the middle notes and cinnamon as end notes. A scent you are all too familiar with.

"Then I shall plan more of this for you." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. "You must be hungry, I had already booked us a table at one of the nearby restaurants." He opened the car door and you got into the car. Getting into the car, he added. "The kids are sound asleep behind, I will wake them up once we arrived at the restaurant."

"Hello my babies." You greeted once the car door to the back was opened, watching your twins stirred in their sleep, before eyes slowly fluttering open.

"Iver..." Zayne cooed to his son, standing on the other side of the door, unbuckling the baby seats for the twins. "We had arrived at the restaurant. Let me give you a lift, alright?" You had never imagine Zayne with kids, given how cold he is of a person. Not mean and ignorant, but just, monotonous, quiet and calm. Having kids with him was unexpected, but him asking for kids was even more shocking.

The young man lifted his son into his arms, smoothing the back of his son's coat to make sure he is fully covered from the brazen cold wind and he headed in after locking the car. With you, holding onto your half-awake daughter behind in, walking swiftly into the restaurant.

The dinner was enjoyable, with the twins munching on to their kids meals and with you sat next to Zayne, having a delectable meal based on the waiter's recommendation. "The food here is good." You commented and your twins looked up, Lumi smiled and nodded, while Iver, with his face stuffed, nodded as well. "So what have you kids been doing today?"

"We watched cartoons." Lumi said, eyes mimicking your eye colours radiating her giddiness. You assumed the cartoons would be more educational rather than entertaining as Zayne does prefer the twins having to gain some form of knowledge from the cartoons. For him, the method is practically killing two birds with one stone. "Daddy also read some storybooks for us." Iver added in, still chewing onto his food, which made Zayne leaned forward to wipe the boy's lips clean with the napkin. "And we took a nap on daddy's chest."

"Be careful of choking, Iver." Zayne warned, his tone soft, giving him son's cheek a soft pinch. Zayne's lips tugged upwards, there is no way he could be mad at his own twins. That is how much he loves them.

"That is good to hear. Sounds like an eventful day for today. And I think daddy did a great job." You happily stated, resuming your meal. A hand on your thigh made you jerked slightly and you looked over, your husband's smile had exchanged for a smirk.

"It is my responsibility to take good care of the kids." He eyed the twins, and facing back to you, his orbs turning a shade darker. "But, it is also my responsibility to make my wife feel good. Mentally..." He trailed off, hands smoothing up your thighs till his thumb glided slowly over your intimate area. The table cloth a good disguise as Zayne's fingers worked his way to pull your panties to the side, collecting the wetness that was pooled there.

You shot daggers towards your husband as this is a public area but he paid no mind to you. The tip of his middle finger, the one adorning the wedding ring, slowly pushed its' way inside of you, pumping an agonizing pace into you. "And physically, of course." pls do this to me too Zayne, i want more babies too

˚ · • . ° .

XAVIER - FATHER TO A SON

"DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!" Lucian came bursting in through the door leading to his parent's room, causing Xavier to stir in his sleep. Eyebrows furrowed at the loud sounds of his son's voice at the early start of the weekend. The copy of Xavier jumped onto the bed and grabbed ahold of his father. "Wake up daddy!"

"Yeah, yeah I am awake now." Xavier yawned, rubbing his eyes with one hand and the other coming up to secure his son on him so he don't fall off. "What's the matter?"

"Mummy said you can take me to go get ice-cream today." His light blue eyes just a tone lighter than his father's when he propped himself up on his father's chest, patiently awaiting for a response. "Daddy please?"

"Okay okay." Xavier chuckled, hugging his son tight in his arms and the young boy laughed. With that, Xavier got out of the bed, with Lucian in his embrace. The hallways outside of the room wafted the smell of noodles and he knew immediately that you are still within the house.

But he was wrong, when he saw you being all dressed up, in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, sitting at the front of your door when you are tying the shoelaces to your sneakers. "Where are you going?" Xavier asked.

You turned at the sound of his voice and watched as Lucian was placed onto the floor by his father and the little boy came running to hug you. "I am heading to the mall with Tara for a little while. She needed me to help her pick out a dress." Standing up, you checked your outfit in the standing mirror for one last time. "At the meantime, you okay with bringing Lucian out for ice-cream?"

Xavier smiled and nodded obediently, taking long strides to press a loving kiss to his wife's lips and he sees her off. Lucian waving his small hands to say bye-bye to his own mother. "Have you eaten yet kiddo?" Xavier asked his son, only for the toddler to shake his head. "Alright, come on, let's have breakfast together. Then we will go for ice-cream later."

Xavier placed Lucian into the baby seat at the dining table and he took off the lid of the pot that was on the stove and he noticed that you had made tomato soup noodles. A dish that you had recently learned from social media. Your first try at making this dish however, was a failure. With Xavier finishing the tasteless noodles and struggling with diarrhea for the next few days. This time, he had his fingers crossed, hoping that the soup would be edible and not cause any unwanted effects.

Before giving the bowl to his son, Xavier tasted the soup base first, to taste if it would be too hot for his son to ingest. To his surprise, the soup was sweet and tangy, which marks a win for your cooking this time. He hungrily filled up his own bowl, before scooping a few spoonfuls of soup and noodles into Lucian's bowl. He also made sure to cut the noodles short enough so it would not cause Lucian to choke on his own food.

"Did mummy made this?" The 3 year old asked, eyes wide, moving in between his father's lips, and to his bear-shaped plastic bowl. Lucian have had a fair share of his father's cooking. The experience of watching his father cook was just as traumatic as eating the food his father had made. There was even this one time, Xavier nearly set the kitchen on fire because he added in some cooking wine into a very hot pan filled with oil and that made Lucian cried for the whole night.

"Yes, your mum made this." Xavier ate his noodles, slurping onto it like a champ. "If she asks me to make breakfast for you, we can just skip breakfast and go for ice-cream instead." Xavier acknowledges his incompetence when it comes to cooking, and it is the only one thing he would not dare to compete with you. he just cant cook anything that deals with fire or electric, just admit it with me boys and girls

...

"Daddy, what do you want?" Lucian asked his father, looking at the flavours that was on display. "Do you want the blue one? Or the green one? Or the red one?" He swung his short legs back and forth, all the while sitting on Xavier's shoulders. The little one did not feel like walking earlier on and that was why Xavier gave him a lift on his shoulders.

"Which one would you like kiddo?" Xavier smiled politely at the waitress behind the counter and the waitress returned the smile, a blush coming onto her face. Who would not blush at the sight of a good looking young man with a son that looks just exactly like him? "How about the blue and red one?"

"Okay!" The young boy excitedly agreed, watching the process of the ice-creamed getting scooped out of the canister and placed onto a cone. Xavier slowly lowered his son down and held onto the hand of the young boy before making the payment at the counter. "Thank you!" Lucian spoke to the cashier when the ice-cream was handed to him and they both took a seat by the window in the store, facing the streets.

Xavier had always wanted a boy, the sole purpose being he could train the son well enough so you can be protected. You were not buying into his idea to begin with but the moment you found out that you were pregnant with a boy, Xavier could not be more than glad. He was so happy to the point he said. "We should name him Lucian, as he shall be the light in our lives." Xavier's words touched your heart and since then, Lucian has been the light in both of your hearts. just like you are the light in OUR HEARTS hello?

The young boy took a lick out of the blue ice-cream, then switched to the red ice-cream and took another lick. Seeing his tongue turning purple, Xavier pointed at his son. "Your tongue is turning purple because of the ice-cream, kiddo." Taking his phone out, he took a picture of Lucian with his purple tongue hanging out of his mouth. He then sent the picture to you, with the caption 'Brain Freeze'.

"Daddy, here." Lucian stretched his arm out, the ice cream in hand and held it in front of his father's face. Xavier took it as an invitation and he took a big bite out of the ice-cream. His action made the young boy flabbergasted, mouth forming an 'O' when he realised that his father just bit off a whole chunk and now he is left with a few more lick of ice cream.

The son's intense gaze at the ice-cream made Xavier felt guilty that he took such a huge bite. His son was not much a naggy child, but he still would not want to upset his little boy. "I'm sorry kiddo, I can---" He wanted to offer to buy the boy another ice-cream but Lucian only laughed, his tone amused.

"That is so funny daddy, when you go AHHH---" Lucian mimicked the way Xavier bit the ice-cream, mouth widely opened and face all crinkled up to show just how big of a bite Xavier had conducted. His son's reaction made Xavier laughed as well, Never knowing his son has such a sense of humour.

The door opened, chiming of the bells at the door could be heard and Xavier looked up, seeing you walking in with a bag in your hands. "Hey boys!" You called out and Lucian turned in his seat and called out to you, arms opened and waiting for you to hug him. Xavier took the ice-cream out of his son's hand so he would not dirty your shirt and he stood up, taking his place to stand next to you.

"How was the outing with Tara?" Xavier took the bag from you and pulled a chair over from the other table as you set your son back down onto his chair. The ice-cream that your husband was holding previously was returned to its rightful owner.

"It was eventful. We only managed to find the dress she wanted at the highest floor." You fanned yourself, sweat beading at your forehead. Your husband took a piece of tissue out of the tissue holder and he dabbed it across your forehead, not wanting to ruin your makeup since you are still on an outing with him. "Thanks a lot."

"No problem." Xavier purposely avoided your gaze, hiding his smile. "The tomato-based noodle soup you made this morning is very good by the way. I enjoyed every bite of it." He complimented, looking over to his son and noticing the young boy, staring out of the window, in the direction of two kids playing by the park, chasing one another.

"Daddy, mummy." Your son's voice beckoned the both of you to turn your heads to face him. His stubby little fingers pressed against the window, pointing towards the two kids at the park. "Can I have a brother?" The way he phrased the questions sounded like siblings could be bought off of a shelf. Your jaw dropped.

But Xavier was expecting this, expecting the fact he would not just settle for one child. He loves you so much, not only as his lover, but he also loves the way you look, with your stomach bulging during the days you are pregnant, carrying a miniature version of him inside. And not to mention, he enjoys the process of giving you a baby. Just the thought of seeing you pregnant again, his cerulean eyes catch yours, similar to a gaze of a predator awaiting to jump onto its prey. He reached his hand out to take yours on the table, giving it a small squeeze of comfort.

"Of course you can." Xavier's gaze darkened, hungry for intimacy. He dragged his fingertips up and down your arms, and stopping right at the back of your hand to draw mindless circles on it. Doing all that without getting his eyes off of you. "Daddy will not stop until you get a brother."

Sorry this took wayyy longer than expected, the toughest part was to find the pictures that would match the faces of the kids and also having to do research for their names and figuring our scenarios that would make the fathers take care of their kids. Other than Rafayel, Zayne and Xavier are going to be out most of the time due to their work!

But I had fun creating this piece, hope you guys enjoyed this! Lots of love <3

[meo-eiru]

Hello!

Do you have any tips on making art for games?

I've tried my hand in making VNs before and i want to try again but i always get overwhelmed when it's time to make the sprites, backgrounds, and other artwork :(

Mostly because the sheer amount of art needed is intimidating.

The best way to overcome that overwhelming feeling is so start out small.

Remember that you are not a big company, work based on the workload you can handle. For a first vn usually focusing on 2-3 characters at most is more ideal, you don't have to make your job harder.

For the backgrounds there's an app called FotoSketcher (not sure if it's available on mobile), it basically places a filter over your art and makes it look painting like, and you can choose from various different styles. It's free and has nothing to do with AI so you can use it without worry.

While I drew the backgrounds in the cg, since we were running short on time FotoSketcher did help me a lot with the in game backgrounds. Though you might need to draw over some stuff to make them blend in better.

For the sprites, or well the character designs, don't go too overboard with details. More details doesn't mean better character design, in fact it can usually feel hard on the eyes. Try to keep it simple.

Be aware of your character's charm points and focus on those.

For the expressions, you don't have to draw each expression one by one. Something that really fastened the process for me was drawing different eyes, mouths and eyebrows, then combining those like puzzle pieces to form the expressions.

For example these two Starling expressions have the same eyes and eyebrow combination but I used different mouths.

And for the cgs, again keep your workload to a minimum. You don't have to illustrate every fun scene, remember that the players can imagine those themselves too. Focus on the scenes you think should absolutely get illustrated to support the story better. If after finishing those you still have time you can always add in more, but what is important is to make a presentable game, not going above and beyond with every single small detail.

[spiicii]

jey uso / nsfw alphabet

x fem!reader  word count → 2.2k summary → my first shot at writing (i can't believe this man has driven me to write), lots of smut and dirty talk beneath the cut, read at your own risk, not beta read

A = Aftercare 

Jey is always so sweet to you. No matter how rough the sex was, he’s always quick to take care of you. He’s gentle as he cleans you up, murmuring soft praises and soothing words. After he’s sure you’re good, he crawls into bed beside you, pulling you close. He’s a cuddler and will keep you close to his chest all night. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) 

He’s worked hard for his body and is especially proud of his shoulders and arms. He loves it when you rub your fingers across his tattoos, admiring the artwork and marveling at the strong muscles that can lift you with ease. 

He loves every inch of you, but he's obsessed with your thighs. It doesn’t matter where you are, he’s going to find a way to grab them, smack them, or even place his hand over them possessively when he’s sitting next to you. He especially loves the feeling of your thighs wrapped around his head as he eats you out. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

As much as he loves cumming inside you, he loves it more when you let him cum on your face. There’s just something about you on your knees, your pink tongue outstretched as he marks you up that drives him crazy. Once he’s finished, he’ll run his fingers through your hair and praise you for how good you’ve been for him. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wasn’t going to see you for weeks and he would miss you. At least, that’s the excuse he gave when he stole a pair of used panties from your dirty clothes to take with him on the road. He’d never done anything like that before and he blamed the intoxicating smell of your pussy as the only thing that could have driven him to do something so filthy. He didn’t get many chances to jerk off while on the road, but when he did, he was sure to sneak the panties from his suitcase and press his nose into the lace to remind himself of you. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s always been an attractive man and has plenty of experience. Most of his partners have been pretty vanilla, so he’s not super experienced in the kinkier side of things, but he’s pretty open-minded. If you bring up something he’s never heard of before, he’d be willing to do some research and learn more about it. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He loves doggy-style (better access to your thighs and ass), but he really can’t get enough of fucking you in missionary. He wants to see your pretty face and loves watching your eyes glaze over as he drills in and out of you. He’ll kiss you as he grinds deep into you, his mouth a hot brand against yours, the kiss deep and possessive. He wants you to feel all of him and take everything he has to give you. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Look, Jey’s a goofy guy. One of the reasons you fell for him was because he knows how to make you laugh. Still, he’s not silly all the time. Some nights he’s sweet and romantic, making sure to take his time and treat you right. Other times he’ll get that dark, possessive look in his eyes and you know that you're in for a long night. 

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s not completely clean-shaven, but he likes to keep everything neat and tidy. He treats it like his beard: he likes it a certain way and doesn’t like to change it. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It all depends on his mood. Some nights he’ll pepper your body with sweet kisses, nothing but honeyed praise on his lips as he takes care of you. 

Fuck, you’re perfect.  I could spend all night tasting you, mamas.  Let me spoil you, baby. 

Then there are other nights. Nights where something will have him feeling frustrated or pent-up. Whatever the reason, you usually end up on all fours, his large hand fisted in your hair as he pistons in and out of you from behind, spitting filthy praise as he uses you. 

Yeah, you like that, don’t you?  Gonna make you cum on this dick, pretty girl.  So fucking tight. You like being used by your daddy? 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Whenever he’s away from you for weeks at a time, he takes whatever opportunity he can to call you. He wants to hear how much you miss him, how badly you need him. This is the only time he’ll do phone sex, when he misses you so fucking bad and only has your voice to get him going. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Loves pulling your hair. Doesn’t matter if he’s hitting it from the back and grabbing you by the hair so you can’t hide your face in the pillow or tightening a fistful of your hair in his hand as he fucks the back of your throat. He loves the way your eyes flutter as he tugs at your scalp, how your mouth falls open and the sweetest little groans spill out of you. 

Usually prefers to take control and loves how much you trust him to take care of you. That being said, there are some (very rare) nights where he wants you to take care of him. On those nights, he’s content letting you call the shots and sub for you. If you praise him and tell him about how good he’s being he might spontaneously combust. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Isn’t a huge exhibitionist and prefers to fuck you in the comfort and privacy of his room. He likes to take his time with you, so a large bed and soundproof walls are preferred. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you in any outfit that highlights your ass and thighs will immediately get him going. He’ll even get a little possessive if he knows you’re going out in an outfit that shows off your body. 

Whoa, whoa, where do you think you’re going, baby? Nobody should get to see this perfect body but me.

He’s easily riled up, so it doesn’t take much to get him going. Literally anything you could do to him could get him in the mood.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Isn’t a fan of exhibitionism (privacy is important to his career) so he doesn’t take risks like that. 

He doesn’t mind you dishing out some punishment to him (he takes beatings for a living), but he would never do anything to hurt you. To him, there’s a difference between being rough and actually hurting you. He’s a lot stronger than you and sometimes he might leave the accidental bruise or mark. He’s always so sweet and apologetic, no matter how small the mark is or how much you reassure him. You’re his perfect angel and he would never want to hurt you, even if you wanted it. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I don’t care what anyone says, this man is a MUNCH. He’s obsessed with the way you taste and could spend hours between your legs, his mouth latched to your clit, his arms slung across your hips to keep you pinned to the bed. He would wring orgasm after orgasm from your shaking body, lapping at the sweet nectar dripping out of you like it’s his last meal on earth. 

He loves it when you give him head, mostly so he can keep his hands in your hair and watch as you worship his cock. He’s usually sweet when he praises you, urging you to take what you want, allowing you to control the pace. He’s only fucking your throat when he’s in a mood. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

His default pace is usually slow and sensual. He likes to take his time with you and enjoy the ride, spending hours taking you apart and putting you back together again.

BUT

Jey’s an emotional guy. He’s known as a hothead and has a bit of a temper. When he comes home from a rough day at work or someone says the wrong thing to him, he might prefer to come to you to get some pent-up energy out. On days like that, he’s fucking you so fast and rough that you probably won’t be able to walk tomorrow. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s not a huge fan of quickies, especially if it means he won’t be somewhere where you’ll be comfortable like a bed. He wants to spoil you and make you feel good, not fuck in a supply closet where you’ll be cramped and uncomfortable. He doesn’t mind sneaking away for a little make out session, but he usually won’t go any further than that. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He would never risk his career or do anything in public, but anything else he’d be willing to try for you. He’s a pretty open-minded guy and would be willing to experiment with something new if you wanted it. He probably wouldn’t be the one to introduce anything new into your sex life, but he’ll try (almost) anything once. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man is an athlete in peak condition. He has a high stamina and sex drive, more than happy to go multiple rounds with a short refractory period. He’d never push you further than you’re able to go and always wants to put your comfort first. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own any toys but wouldn’t be opposed to you bringing them into the bedroom. He might be a bit skeptical of them at first (might even tease you about a few) but if you wanted to use them, he wouldn’t be against it. 

The very first time you brought in toys, it was a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs. He thought they were for you at first and was shocked when you said they were for him instead. After some jokes (this man ALWAYS has jokes) he finally agreed to let you handcuff him to the headboard. He would never tell anyone, but he’d never finished so quickly in his life. Needless to say, you certainly use this knowledge to your advantage whenever he let you take control.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s soooo cocky, even when he’s being sweet, and will tease you for hours on end. Loves to see you fall apart under his tongue or listen to you beg him for more more more. 

Yeah, yeah, need your daddy, huh? So fucking spoiled, aren’t you, little girl? 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not over the top loud, but he can get vocal. When he’s deep inside you and grinding into your gummy walls, you’ll hear his rough grunts in your ear, a low creaky groan ripping from his throat as he spills into you. 

He’s got a filthy mouth, whether he’s being sweet or rough with you. 

You can be louder for me, can’t you?  You gon’ be my good girl?  Just needed this dick, didn’t you mamas? 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Can we talk about subby Jey some more? Sure, he’s an amazing dom and takes such good care of you, but when he finally lets go and lets you call the shots? He really is the sweetest boy in the world. So anxious and eager to please you. You rarely have to punish him and even when you do, he somehow manages to get out of it by using his adorable puppy eyes. He loves it when you tie him down and ride him until he’s begging you for release, letting out the cutest little whimpers and moans. He’s always so embarrassed that you can coax those sounds from him, his ears and cheeks burning as he hears how pathetic he sounds, but he can’t deny how good he feels as you praise him and pet his hair. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Long and curved, his dick is well-acquainted with your cervix. It’s so pretty, genuinely one of the prettiest dicks you’d ever seen. You once asked if he’d want to get it pierced, just to add to its beauty, but he’d only laughed and made a joke. Well, he didn’t say no…

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

This man can fuck like the energizer bunny, always ready for you whenever you want him. He’s horny as hell but he does a good job of hiding it when he’s at work or on the road. He thinks about you constantly and is pretty much always down to fuck. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

Once he’s sure that you’re comfortable and taken care of, he’s usually asleep pretty quickly. He’s more tired than he’d like to admit but he doesn’t like falling asleep before you. 

[starkwlkr]

miss honey | sebastian vettel

dad!sebastian x female reader

no part 2

“Papa! I have a new teacher!”

The school had already sent out an email letting parents know that the students were being thought by a new teacher. Ever since his daughter knew of the teacher, she had been counting down the days until she could meet her and finally today was the day.

“Remember, we have to be kind to her and all the other kids, okay?” Sebastian reminded her as they walked hand in hand to her classroom. The little girl nodded with a smile on her face.

They finally made it to her classroom and saw several parents with their kids already inside. The Vettel girl let go of her father’s hand and excitedly ran to the table where her friends were. Sebastian wasn’t sure what the new teacher looked like so he just stood to the side admiring the artwork of the kids that was stapled to the cork boards.

“It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Cooper.” A sweet voice caught Sebastian’s attention. It was coming from outside of the classroom so he poked his head out to see what was going on. At the same time, you had entered the classroom causing you to bump into each other. “Oh! I’m so sorry!”

“No, it’s my fault. That’s what I get for being nosey. I’m sorry.” Sebastian apologized. “Do you know who the new teacher is? My daughter is excited to meet her.”

You smiled. “Well I’m more excited to meet her. Where is she?”

“You’re the new teacher?”

“Is that surprising?”

Sebastian nervously chuckled. “No, not at all. I was just . . . Schatz! Come meet your new teacher.” The little girl came running to her father.

“Hello, my father told me you’re excited to meet me.” You bent down to her height. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Emma.” The girl replied shyly.

“Emma, you have a very lovely name. I have a feeling we’re going to be great friends.”

Sebastian couldn’t help but smile at the interaction. He already took a liking to you. He stayed with Emma for a bit while you greeted other parents and their kids. While Emma colored in her journal, a dad of Emma’s friend had gotten Sebastian’s attention.

“New teacher is hot, right? I’ll have to drop off my kid more often now.” He said, keeping his eyes on your body. “God, she knows what she’s doing. Look at that ass—”

“We’re in a classroom, there’s kids around us. It’s inappropriate, especially when she’s the one teaching our kids.” Sebastian interrupted.

“What? You’re acting as if you wouldn’t sleep with her. Whatever, she’ll definitely put out for me.” He then walked towards you as you finished another conversation with a mom. Sebastian watched as he tried to talk his way into getting your number.

The German could see the discomfort in your face so he quickly made his way towards you. “It’s getting late, shouldn’t you be going to your office?” Sebastian told the rude man.

“I’m the boss, Vettel, I can go in whenever I want.” He replied.

“Last I heard, your boss was thinking of firing you because you got drunk and ran over a road sign and you called him in the middle of a meeting so he could bail you out.”

You could feel the tension between the men. All you wanted to do was start your first day.

“You’re really not that funny.” He said as he left the classroom.

“Wasn’t trying to be.” Sebastian mumbled. “Sorry about him, he’s an idiot.”

“I could tell. .” You gasped when you realized what you just said. “Oh god, please don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

Ever since your first interaction with Sebastian, you couldn’t help but think about him often. You knew it was wrong, but he was just so charming. It was one sided at all. Emma would sometimes bring you a little gift with a note attached in Sebastian’s handwriting. You didn’t know what exactly he did for work, you assumed it was a job that required him to travel a lot since Emma would bring different souvenirs from different countries. His notes were always short and sweet, it made you melt inside.

It was a chilly day and you were almost done with class. The kids were packing their backpacks and cleaning up their areas while you helped some students.

“Does anyone have questions about their homework?” You asked your class.

“No, miss l/n!” They replied.

“Miss l/n? I have a question, but it’s not about the homework . . .” Emma raised her hand from her seat.

You nodded and walked over to her table. “What’s your question, Emma?”

“Well . . My papa is retiring and i was wondering if you want to come with us to his last race?” Emma asked.

“Race? Your papa races?” You were confused, but then it all made sense. The gift from different countries, why Emma’s grandparents were the ones the drop her or pick her up off most of the time.

“Yeah, but he’s retiring. He has four world championships!” Emma put up four fingers. “Can you come with us? Please!”

“Emma, I’m not sure. What if your papa doesn’t want me there? We can talk about this another day.” You tried to dismiss the topic, but the little girl wasn’t giving up.

“That’s not true because my papa always talks about you to his teammate and his friends and everyone who works with him and I heard him say he wants to invite you to the race. One time he called you Miss Honey.” Emma said.

You were sure you were blushing at the thought of Sebastian calling you Miss Honey. It wasn’t the first time you were called that, but knowing Sebastian did made you smile.

“Well I’ll have to talk to your papa when he comes to pick you up.” You said. The Vettel girl nodded.

You took the kids to the entrance of the school where all the parents picked them up from and noticed Sebastian immediately. He waved at you instantly. You waved back, already feeling butterflies in your stomach from that tiny interaction. You then helped the kids find their parents and kept other kids company since they were waiting for their parents to show up.

“Miss l/n! My papa wants to ask you something!” Emma came up running to you, dragging Sebastian by his hand. “Ask her papa!”

The older man just laughed. “I will, just be patient. Um . . So I was wondering if you would like to attend my last race as a Formula 1 driver.”

“Emma did mention you raced.” You said. “She also mentioned you talk about me to your colleagues and call me Miss Honey.”

“Did she?” Sebastian looked down at his daughter, who innocently smiled. “I apologize if that made you uncomfortable—”

“It’s cute. Not the first time I’ve been called that actually.”

Emma couldn’t wait any longer for your answer. “So you’ll go see my papa race?!”

“Emma, be patient.” Sebastian told her.

You looked at her with a smile. “I think it would be lovely to see your papa race.”

Thank god for Emma Vettel and her impatience.

The last race of the Formula 1 season was here. It was a very emotional weekend for many since they would be saying goodbye to the great Sebastian Vettel. He had been receiving lots of kind messages and gifts from fans and supporters from all over the world.

It was the morning of Abu Dhabi Grand Prix and you were feeling a lot of emotions. On the way to the track, Emma had given you her version of how a race worked. You listened to her all the way to the track with Sebastian sometime reminding her of a few things she missed. Finally, you made it to the paddock entrance where photographers were waiting for the arrival of Sebastian.

“Papa, there’s a lot.” Emma said once she noticed the amount of photographers waiting.

“You’ll be okay, sweetheart. You can hold my hand until we get inside, okay?” You assured Emma. Sebastian saw how Emma felt safe with you. You truly were a real life Miss Honey.

Eventually, the three of you had to make your way to the entrance so you held onto Emma’s hand and stayed close to Sebastian. While Sebastian got caught up with taking photos and singing autographs for fans, Emma showed you around. She pointed at several buildings and told you that those were the team motorhomes.

“Sorry about that, come on let’s continue.” Sebastian caught up with you and Emma.

“It’s alright, Emma is a very good guide. She’s very smart.” You reply.

You all made your way to the Aston Martin garage where Sebastian insisted on showing you around. Even though Emma had already been to multiple races over the years, she always acted surprised when she saw her father’s car. You couldn’t help but take a photo of Emma being put inside Sebastian’s car for the final time.

“This is amazing. I can’t believe you never told me this was your job.” You said to Sebastian as you both watched Emma joke around with Sebastian’s race engineer.

“You never asked.” He joked. “It means a lot to Emma that you’re here . . and to me. Thank you.”

“I’m happy to be here.”

Soon came the race. You and Emma watched from the Aston Martin garage. You weren’t sure what was happening, but you were happy to be there to support Sebastian. When the checkered flag came out, Emma explained to you that her father had finished in the points. You, Emma and the Aston Martin team cheered.

It felt like forever trying to reunite with Sebastian, but you kept Emma entertained by playing I spy.

“I spy with my little eye something . . . Red!” You said.

Emma looked around then spotted Charles walking with Max. “It’s Charles!”

“You got it!”

Now it was Emma’s turn. “I spy with my little eye . . Papa!” She yelled, the game of i spy already forgotten since Sebastian was back in the garage. Emma ran to her father and gave him a big hug.

“Did you have fun?” Sebastian questioned.

“Yeah, miss l/n and I were playing I spy and I won.” Emma replied. “Can we go home?”

Sebastian looked at you. “Let’s go home.” He nodded, content with his new life.

After your return home, you saw Sebastian more often. He even volunteered for bake sales, school fundraisers and career day. The kids loved seeing his helmet and racing suit, you were pretty sure it made all the other parents jealous.

It was a nice sunny day when Sebastian had asked you to dinner. It took some convincing, but you accepted. He took you to a restaurant that had a beautiful view and a lot of pretty colorful flowers. As you were talking about a bookstore you wanted to visit, a bee that joined you. While most people were afraid of bees and tried to run away from them, you adored them.

“Five eyes, six legs.” You admired the insect.

“Emma thinks I’m crazy for talking to bees. I tell her that bees are important.” Sebastian said.

“Yeah, I do remember her telling me that you talk to the bees. I thought she was joking.” You chuckled. “I had the kids to a project about bees and Emma said you were planning to make insect hotels?” Soon all you and Sebastian could talk about what his upcoming new project.

After your date, Sebastian drove you home. You honestly didn’t want the date to end, but you had homework that needed grading. What a way to spend a Friday night, but you enjoyed it. You found grading papers very therapeutic.

“I’ll see you at school?” Sebastian wondered.

“Sure.” You laughed. “Before I forget.” You leaned forward and pressed your lip’s against his. It was sweet like honey. After you pulled away, Sebastian couldn’t wipe off the smile from his face.

“Goodnight, miss honey.”

“Goodnight, bee man.”

—

2023

Time skip brought to you by all my seb pictures from pinterest

PRIVATE ACCOUNT

liked by sebastianvettel, mickschumacher and 276 others

missl/n_ bee man in his natural habitat 🐝 thanks for bringing me along 🖤

mickschumacher come back soon!!

missl/n_ i’ll try! my kids need their teacher 😉

sebastianvettel the bees thank you, miss honey 🍯

missl/n_ i love you, bee man 🐝

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + twelve

authors note: ya'll remember the theme song from wizards of waverly place? 'everything is not what it seems'? yeah....remember that.

also, don't cuss me out for the ending, pleassseeee.

shoutout to the lovely @fearlesschimera for helping me with the italian translations! ❤️

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

cw/tw: violence against women, scene of dv, slight fighting? language, angst, fluff, sexy time scene aka mild smut

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

masterlist

words: 10k (unhinged)

So, I remember when we were driving, driving in your car

Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk

City lights laid out before us

And your arm felt nice wrapped around my shoulder

And I, I had a feeling that I belonged

I, I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

Nina’s singing and subsequent light laughter is what tears away Solana’s focus from her artwork. Turning away from the paper on the dining room table, she angles her body in the chair, swinging her legs around as she watches her mom dance around the kitchen.

Nina’s voice is soft and melodic, a nice compliment to the singer whose name Solana can never remember despite this being one of her mom’s, if not thee, favorite song.

Without thinking twice about it, Solana climbs off the chair and runs up to hug her mom from the side.

Nina’s smile grows even more as she looks down at her only daughter. “Mija.”

Solana looks up, big eyes reflecting the same amount of love and adoration. She responds in her mom’s native language. A ‘secret’ little thing they do in times like this where her dad and brother are gone. Communicating in only a way they can understand. 

“I wanna dance with you, mommy!”

Nina’s laughter is similar to her singing and speaking voice. And it’s infectious too, Solana joining in as Nina playfully spins her around. “Then dance with me, mija.”

Solana doesn’t need to be told twice. And maybe it’s less dancing and more moving around in a way that represents the happiness both mother and daughter feel in this moment. A brief little thing, something that happens in small to medium doses infrequently. 

But when it does roll around, the both of them capture and hold onto it with all that they have. 

When the song finishes, Nina turns down the music system as she redirects Solana to her art. “Can I see what you made?”

It’s a question she already knows the answer to. Solana nodding furiously as she takes her hand and guides her over to the table. Pointing, Solana explains, “look, mommy, it’s you and me!”

Nina gasps quietly. Even at seven, her daughter seems to have a gift with the arts. Reading, writing, and drawing. It hurts her sometimes that she can’t feed it more. That she’s limited to so little resources when it comes to helping Solana better her craft. 

Nina lifts up Solana and sits down in the chair, her daughter on her lap. “It’s beautiful, mija. You’re so talented.”

The complement brightens Solana’s smile. “Just like you, mommy!” Solana lifts up the page, offering additional explanation. “See, that’s you and me at the Play—playa—”

Nina helps her out, “Playa Norte, Isla Mujeres?” 

Solana nods. “That!” 

A brief sweep of sadness overcomes her with memories of home. Memories of simpler, happier times. Her children still bring her a sense of fulfillment, but it’s often weighed down by the trauma of everything else. “Oh, I wish you could see the water, Sol. It’s so beautiful, so clear. It’s like heaven on earth.”

Solana looks up at her with all of her naivety and innocence. “We can go there one day, mommy, right? Just you and me?”

Her throat constricts at Solana’s question. Nina doesn’t have it in her to expose her young child to the ugly truth. “Of course, baby.” She brushes some of Solana’s hair back. “What about your brother?”

It’s not missed upon her how the mention of Wesley makes Solana’s smile dim. “He doesn’t like us….”

“Oh, baby…” Nina brings her hands to gently cradle Solana’s face. “He does. It’s just your father….your father tells him things about us that’s not true, but he does like us. He loves us just like I love you and him. I love you both so much.”

There’s not enough time in the world or ways that she can say it to truly exemplify just how much she means it. Even with Xavier doing everything he can to keep her away from her son, it doesn’t extinguish her love for him. 

If anything, it just makes it stronger. 

The sound of the garage doors lifting brings Nina back to her crushing reality, from her brief escapism. “He’s home.” Wide eyes dart to the kitchen as she realizes dinner is still about twenty minutes out from being ready. “Come, mija!” Nina jumps from the table and is quick to gather all of Solana’s artwork. She knows how this will play out, and she refuses to allow him to destroy Solana’s work the same way he often does her own. Reaching it to her, Nina hurriedly advises, “go to your bathroom, lock the door, and don’t come out until I come get you, okay?” Trembling hands reach Solana the CD player and headphones. “Don’t take these off, you hear me?”

Solana’s smile is completely gone, her eyes watering, “he’s gonna hurt you, isn’t he?”

Nina swallows back her sob. “‘Don’t worry about me, Solana. Just do as I say, okay?” The sound of the door to the garage being ripped open alerts her to just how pressed for time they are. With all of the urgency, she pleads, “go!”

And despite everything in her wanting her to stay, to help, to do whatever she can, Solana does as she’s told.

Rushing up the stairs, Solana doesn’t stop until she’s in the bathroom. She locks the door and falls on the floor, back up against it, eyes watering even more.

She moves as fast as she can to put her headphones on, but it’s not fast enough. She can’t make out specific words, but it’s not needed to know and hear her father’s angry yelling followed by the pained wails of her mom. Glass breaking, items being thrown, Xavier’s screams of unbridled fury.

That’s when the dam breaks, tears spilling out of her eyes as she hits play to sound out the noise that never really goes away, never really stops haunting her, from making her chest feel so full and heavy.

This….this is the soundtrack to her life. 

Solana isn’t unsure how long she sits there, working so hard to drown out the cries and screams of her best friend. Long enough to where she falls asleep only to be woken up by the same woman whose shouts of terror unintentionally and tragically lulled her to sleep.

The first thing Solana notices is the blood, followed by the puffy, blackened area under her right eye. Still, her mom is only focused on her, hand under her chin as she asks, “are you okay, mija?”

The tears return as Solana is face to face with the result of her father whose anger knows no bounds. “Mommy….”

“Don’t cry, baby.” Nina pulls Solana against her chest, braving the pain coursing through her body, particularly her ribs. “I’m—I’m okay.”

She hates lying to her daughter, feels almost sick with herself for gaslighting her. Solana is wise and perceptive. She knows that her mother is far from fine.

“What if—what if one day he hurts you real bad?”

Nina wasn’t expecting this question, wasn’t expecting her young daughter to ask something she herself has thought about from time to time. 

What happens when Xavier finally takes his beatings too far?

Shoving away those dark thoughts, Nina shows Solana her inner forearm. “What is this, Sol?”

Solana wipes at her eyes and focuses on the beautifully, dark inked hummingbird tattoo on her mom’s skin. “A Hummingbird.”

“That’s right.” Nina wipes at her tears. “And what did I tell you about Hummingbirds? Hmm? What do they mean to our people?”

Solana sniffles and explains in a quiet voice. “They’re messengers from the spirits in heaven.”

“Exactly, so that means even when people leave us in one form, they’re still here in another. Still here even if they look a little different.” Nina’s voice cracks a bit as she promises, “I’m always with you, Solana. No matter what.”

Emotion building back up, Solana thrusts herself against Nina and cries into her chest. “Why can’t we leave, mommy?” She looks up, full of confusion and fear. “Then he can’t hurt you anymore.” Nina swallows. “We can run away where he won’t find us!”

Nina has a hard time holding back her tears. A dream. That would be a dream. If she could somehow escape this hell, take her children from this nightmare. But, it's just that, a dream. Because this is the life they live. This is her reality. 

And there’s nothing that can change that.

Not without her putting her children’s lives at risk, because Xaver has made it abundantly clear in a variety of violent ways what will happen should she ever be “stupid” enough to think she could leave.

“Listen to me, Solana.” She wipes away the tears of her sweet child. “This…what your father does to me….it’s not love, and it’s not okay. I don’t want you to ever let a man treat you that way.” It feels almost bitter leaving her mouth, the amount of hypocrisy she feels at saying such a thing. If only she could practice what she preaches. “You are so special, and your heart is so big.” She places her hand over Solana’s chest. “This is your biggest gift, and you must always be careful who you share it with. Because yours is extra special.” She presses her lips against Solana’s forehead. “No matter what, never forget that life is a gift. You are a gift, Solana.” Her eyes shut, absorbing all the love and comfort. “My sol.”

________

Memories of much darker, sadder times have unintentionally become a motivating factor for Solana during training. She finds a sort of strength and fuel at reflecting on times from the past where she was bogged down with such fear. 

Now though, it’s not as much fear as something else that’s unfamiliar but not unwarranted.

Anger. 

It’s what helps and almost keeps her on her feet and in the game as she spars with Bayley, knife in the back of her shorts. It’s the first time she’s done as such, practiced training, practiced fighting, with that little thing that’s caused her so much pain throughout her life.

But now, she’s the one with the blade, with the ability to use it against someone else vs it being used against her. 

It’s a different feeling, still uncomfortable, but also empowering in a strange sort of way.

Naomi is on the side, calling out various tips and reminders as Solana is able to successfully avoid certain hits and attacks from Bayley. She knows her friend is still holding back a bit, but not nearly as much as she did in the beginning.

Solana slightly appreciates that.

She feels….she feels good almost knowing that the progress she’s made isn’t because it’s been given to her. It’s been earned.

And unbeknownst to her, there’s an audience observing the sparring, an audience that consists of none other than the twins, Nia, and her husband who watch from the balcony above.

Roman had a meeting with Nia earlier in the day, hence his presence at the Warehouse, but staying after to silently observe Solana while she trains wasn’t necessarily on the agenda. It just happened.

Much to the chagrin of Wise Man who once again tries to remind Roman of what he already knows. He clears his throat, nerves big and evident, “sir, I hate to interrupt, but we do have to meet with—-”

“I’m aware.”

Paul swallows, closing his eyes as he sends up a prayer, asking for mercy. “Of course, sir, but—but, if we don’t leave now—”

“The meeting will start whenever I arrive, and I’ll get there when I get there.” Roman’s dark, irritated gaze falls on his chief advisor. “Is that understood?”

Paul straightens, more than familiar with that look. The look that can be followed up with an act of violence. “Y—yes, my Tribal Chief.” 

With that shit straightened out, Roman easily falls back into the almost trance he’s in watching her. 

Updates with her progress from Naomi and Bayley have been one thing, but it’s another to actually see her in action. 

See the precision and speed in which she moves. She seems almost….in her element.

A far cry from the terrified mess she was when he first met her.

She’s coming into her own, and he loves to see that shit. 

But, it’s when Bayley lands a particularly harsh blow against Solana, one that has her holding onto her face that Roman steps forward. A fresh wave of anger comes over him at the fact that Bayley could be so stupid to hit her so hard. She should fucking know better. 

Who the fuck does she think she is to hit Solana?

He’s stopped, however, when Nia extends her arm across his big body, preventing him from checking on his wife. 

He turns toward her, and if looks could kill, she’d be dead. “Move.”

She rolls her eyes, unbothered, motioning for him to continue watching. “Wait.”

Roman has no fucking intentions on waiting. Not when Solana could be hurt. He’s going to tear Bayley a new one for that. Why the fuck would she hit her so hard?

But, it’s as he’s watching and sees Bayley move toward Solana to check on her, that he realizes why Nia may have stopped him from acting too prematurely.

Because Solana is suddenly no longer doubled over. She’s bringing her knee up to Bayley, forcing the other woman to double over from some level of pain. But Solana doesn’t stop. She instead uses her leg to swipe Bayley off her feet, sending her into the ground.

Solana pounces on top of her, forcing her on her stomach. Straddling her, a fist full of her hair as she yanks her head back and brings the knife up to her neck.

Roman smiles.

Around him, the twins start to make a whole scene.

“Oh shit, okay Soso! I see you girl!”

“Alright, sis! That’s how you do it!”

Roman watches as she drops the knife almost immediately but not before she smiles, emotional almost, while being cheered on by Naomi who runs over and hugs her from the side. Solana laughs as she stands up, Bayley also jumping up, joining in the celebration.

“You know, it’s not very often that I'm wrong, but I gotta admit.” Roman turns to Nia who also looks a level of impressed. “I was wrong about Princess.” Nia chuckles. “Girl’s got some fight in her after all.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, but that’s not out of disagreement.

Solana might be one of the strongest people he’s ever met.

And it has nothing to do with what he just witnessed.

Nia continues, announcing, “I think she’s ready to advance to the next level.”

Roman has his own definition of what that is, but he’s slightly curious about Nia’s take. “Which is?”

“She needs to start training with a man.”

He nods. They’re on the same page then. “I’ll talk with her about taking over—”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Nia has always been outspoken, but there are some days he has to remind himself that she’s family. Because her smart ass mouth on anyone else would have them six feet under.

“She’s comfortable with you. It needs to be with someone she doesn’t know.”

And this time, Roman is the one shooting it down. “No.” To make Solana train and fight with a man, a stranger at that, seems like it would be triggering for her. In no way, shape, or form will he let that shit happen.

Nia, however, seems intent on just that. “Look, four months ago, I would agree with you, but look at what that girl just did. She grounded Bayley, Roman.” He looks away, running his hand over his face. “She’s come a long way, and to stop her now would only be a disservice. You’d be hindering her.” When he says nothing, mostly because he knows she has a point and he hates that, she continues. “And I’d say have Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum do it, but she seems to be comfortable with them too. For some reason.”

Jey finishes chewing his snack, most likely a creation by Solana, asking with all the obliviousness, “hey, what’d you say?”

Roman ignores him while Nia rolls her eyes. “You’re a stubborn bastard, Roman, but you’re not stupid.” He looks at her. “You know I’m right.” 

He turns away,  watching as Bayely and Naomi talk to Solana, clearly providing her additional instruction. He’s focused on Solana. She looks so….relaxed. So in her element. It’s such a far cry from the first time he met her.

She’s almost like an entirely different person. This causes him to sigh loudly. 

Nia is correct. He’d be hindering the growth that’s got her to where she is today.

And that’s something he could never forgive himself for.

“I’ll talk to her.”

________

Bayley: If ya’ll could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Solana is taking a brief break to check her phone, mainly for any texts from Roman, when Bayley sends her message in the group chat that the three of them share.

Naomi: Ooooh, Bora Bora! Heard it’s beautiful!

Bayley: Nice! I’d say the Maldives. 

Bayley: Solana?

It’s a good question that she doesn’t really have the answer for. 

Solana: Idk. I’ve…I’ve never been out of the country, so it’s hard to say.

Naomi: Seriously? Never traveled at all?

Solana: No. 

Bayley: So then there definitely has to be someplace! 

It takes a minute for her to really think about how to respond, because her initial instinct is to double down on her first answer. But, it’s when her memory from earlier in the day returns to the forefront of her mind that she finds herself being more open than she anticipated. 

Solana: Playa Norte, Isla Mujeres. It’s in Mexico. My mom always said the water was so beautiful. 

And that they would visit someday.

That never happened though.

It never happened because she was murdered before she could make the dream come true. 

An uncomfortable blanket of sadness comes over her, forcing Solana to put her phone down and resume her work, an effective distraction. 

She grabs a set of books that need to be restocked and makes her way over to the appropriate aise when she overhears low sniffles.

Frowning, she places the books down on the cart and follows the sound of the sniffles that sound a lot like someone crying. It's when she moves to the next aisle that she finds the source.

A little girl. No more than 6 or 7. She’s sat up against a row of books, little legs pulled up to her chest as she cries into her knees.

Solana’s frown deepens as she slowly approaches the child, leaving enough distance to not startle her. Solana knows better than most the detriment of being taken off guard when already upset.

“Hi there.” Her head snaps up, and right away Solana is met with striking blue eyes that are blurred with tears and an emotion Solana knows all too well.

Fear.

“It’s okay,” she comforts, intentional about keeping her distance and voice soft. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

The little girl who, in a strange way, reminds her a lot of herself with her light complexion and russ brown hair that’s a combination of curl patterns, stammers with a response. “My—my mommy and daddy said I can’t talk to strangers.”

Solana smiles warmly. “Your mommy and daddy are very smart.” Staying where she is, Solana slides down onto the floor. She brings her legs to her side and offers her name. “My name is Solana. I work here in the library.” Wanting to earn some level of trust, Solana informs, “I really like to read.”

Her eyes light up a bit. “You do?”

She nods, keeping her smile. “My mom used to read with me all the time. Does your mommy ever read with you?”

The little girl nods and wipes at her eyes. “Yes. Daddy does too sometimes, but he works a lot.”

Solana’s smile dims a bit. She can both relate and not relate. Her father was never really home, and she preferred it that way. But when he was….it was hell. 

Using the opening, Solana asks softly, “where is your mommy?”

She hesitates, and her bottom lip trembles a bit, but she ends up explaining her presence. “I was walking outside with mommy, and I saw a butterfly, and—and I wanted to catch it, but then I got lost.” She starts to cry as Solana puts the pieces together, realizing she ran off, got lost, and maybe ventured into the library to ask for help. Or to cry in a safe space.

Solana gets that too.

“It’s okay, sweetie. I’ll help you find your mommy, okay?” 

The offer seems to settle her emotions a bit. Solana watches as she wipes her eyes and almost asks in a hopeful tone. “R–really?”

Solana smiles again and nods. “Of course.” She stands up, not moving from her spot but offering her hand. “You want to come with me?”

The little girl nods and stands up, slowly walking up to Solana and taking her hand. She looks up, sharing in a slightly more confident tone, “my name is Emma.”

“That’s a very pretty name.” Solana gently squeezes her hand. “Now let’s go find your mommy.” 

Solana notes how Emma squeezes her hand back. It warms her heart.

She guides Emma toward the steps, careful to not walk too fast, mindful of the fact that Emma is still, wisely, very cautious of the fact that Solana is still a stranger.

Solo meets Solana at the bottom of the steps, his unkind gaze falling on Emma who hides herself behind Solana.

Looking down, she advises her, “it’s okay, sweetie.”

Solo rolls his eyes, gesturing with his chin. “Who is this?”

Solana looks back at him, answering while intentionally not providing a name. Emma provided Solana her name, not Solo. “She got separated from her mother. I’m gonna help her find her.”

He scoffs. “Ain’t that what the police is for?” 

Frowning, Solana finds herself defending her actions. “She’s already scared.”

He cuts his eyes, voice sharp as she reminds her of his role. “My job is to protect and watch you. Not some random badass kid—”

“D–don’t call her that.” Anger. Solana finds herself growing angry with Solo’s disposition. A rare emotion for her. But, she can’t stop thinking about the scared little girl clinging onto her leg, finding some form of comfort in her. She can’t stop thinking about how she used to be that little girl. How she used to cling onto her mother for comfort. 

Until she couldn’t.

“I’ll help her by myself. I—” Solana swallows. “I don’t need your help.” 

The library is in neutral territory. She should be fine to walk up and down the street to help an innocent child without the protection of someone Solana is realizing really doesn’t want to be there in the first place.

Gently encouraging Emma to follow her, Solana leads the little girl out the double doors of the library and onto the busy sidewalk.

Solo never comes after her.

And in a weird, sort of unfamiliar twist that she doesn’t really understand, Solana prefers it that way.

She prefers Solo not toggling along, his negative energy not interfering and exacerbating Emma’s fear.

Leaning down, Solana asks, still with that gentle smile, “do you remember which way you came from?”

Emma frowns again, shaking her head. “N–no.”

“That’s okay. We’ll just look left and right.” Straightening up, Solana decides to go to the left first, knowing that there’s a kids boutique a few doors down. It seems like a good place to start. And it’s while walking, Emma suddenly asks a question that literally makes Solana feel like she’s gotten the wind knocked out of her.

“Are you a mommy?”

Solana hasn’t the slightest clue why it takes a second for her to answer such a basic question. The question, in terms of complexity, is simple and can be answered with a single word. But everything else with it is…..not easy. Because she has no idea why her tone suddenly shifts to something sad as she finally replies.

“No.” And before she can think about what’s leaving her mouth, before she can even process what she’s saying, Solana adds, “not yet.”

It takes a lot for Solana to not backtrack, to try to offer some explanation that probably wouldn’t make any sense to such a young child why she was taking her answer back. But beyond that, there’s a part of Solana that doesn’t want to take it back.

She doesn’t want to take it back because….because maybe it’s the truth. 

Emma looks up with a small smile, revealing a missing front tooth. “You’re gonna be a nice mommy.”

Her chest constricts, and Solana feels her eyes watering from an emotion she can’t pinpoint.

Emotional smile and all, she manages to keep the tears at bay. “Thank—”

“Emma!”

Solana and Emma snap their heads and attention to the source of the voice, as Emma drops Solana’s hand.

“Mommy!” 

Solana jogs behind Emma who makes a mad dash in the direction of the woman who called her name. Solana stops when a large man moves in between her and Emma and the woman.

Emma’s little voice calls out at the same time Solana backs away, a bit of anxiety growing in her stomach as she thinks about the knife in the back pocket of her jeans. “No, she’s my friend!” 

“Bron, back off.” The woman speaks, and almost instantly, the large man with cold eyes that remind her of Solo moves away. The view and path is cleared again as Solana sees Emma being held by a woman who could never deny the child in her arms belongs to her. Emma is her twin outside of the blue eyes Solana would guess she got from her father.

“Mommy, this is Solana.” Emma introduces, pointing and waving. “She helped me find you!”

The woman, a few inches taller than Solana, with hazel eyes and almost perfect facial features, smiles. Again, Solana sees nothing but Emma. “Thank you so much—”

The large man who Solana hasn’t forgotten about and vice versa chimes in. “Brandi—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Bron.” She cradles Emma closer to her chest, as Solanaa clears her throat.

“Of course.” She points behind her. “I—umm—I work at the library. I—I do a kids reading club on Mondays, if—if Emma would like to join.”

Emma’s eyes light up at that as she’s pulling on her mom’s sleeve. “Mommy, can I go?”

The woman, Brandi, as Solana heard the large, unkind man refer to her frowns a bit. “After today, I’ll be lucky if your dad lets you or me leave just to check the mail, let alone go into town again.” Still, she turns to Solana, “but thank you for the information. She loves books, so I’d know she’d love to attend.”

And it’s then that Emma throws out with all the innocence of a child. “Solana’s gonna be a mommy too! Just like you!” 

Her breath catches. Solana once again has to fight back the tears that don’t make sense as well as the sadness that doesn’t make even more sense. “Some…someday.”

Brandi offers a smile that’s reassuring. Like she understands what doesn’t need to be directly stated. “Well, I wish you all the luck.” She tickles Emma’s stomach and jokes, “they’re a handful.”

And for a second, just the briefest of a second, solana visualizes just that. Visualizes herself holding a child, a child that would have her smile. Roman’s eyes. His strong will. Her innocence.

A perfect representation of them both.

But, it’s quickly pushed away, stomped on by logic.

That…..that’s not even something she should allow herself to consider right now when they haven’t even consummated their marriage.

Even if that very visual is exactly why the marriage was arranged in the first place. 

She clears her throat. Despite being outside, Solana all of a sudden feels almost closed in. “I—I should get back to work.” 

Brandi nods. “Of course.” She doesn’t even have to direct Emma to say goodbye, as the little girl with a sweet smile full of innocence is already on it.

“Bye, Solana!” She then adds on with all of the hope. “I hope I see you again!”

Solana hopes the same too.

After parting, Solana noticing the almost menacing glare that ‘Bron’ man sends her way, she walks back to the library in complete silence, feeling so conflicted and torn by emotions that usually don’t work in her favor in general.

But, it’s when she’s about to head up the steps, Solo appears again wearing an almost smug expression, that she stops in her tracks at his comment. “You done playing mother Teresa?”

She doesn’t know where it comes from. Doesn’t know how she’s even able to allow it to leave the safety of her mouth, the confines of her thoughts vs being expressed. But, that’s exactly what happens. 

Solana turns to him and doesn’t stutter as she asserts, “you don’t get to talk to me like that.” Swallowing and with an uncharacteristically amount of confidence, she warns almost, “Roman wouldn’t let you talk to me like that.”

And it seems like that not so little reminder of who her husband is triggers something for him. Solo clears his throat, muttering almost, “my apologies.” He asks, a perfect combination of forced concern and obligation, “whose kid?”

She starts not to answer, but being a form of assertive and dismissive feels like too much in one day. “I don’t know. Some man with her called her Brandi?”

At that, his attention seems almost intensified. He’s quiet for a moment. “Brandi?”

Confused at his subtle but noticeable change in demeanor, Solana nods. “Yeah. I think she called the man Bron?” 

Solo looks away, like there’s something about these two pieces of information that are important. So she asks, “why?”

Solo’s gaze is back on her, and like a snap of a finger, the intensity in his expression melts into something cavalier. “Nothing.”

Solana is quiet. And suspicious. Something in the pit of her stomach tells her there’s something he’s not telling her, something he’s keeping to himself. 

But she doesn’t push it.

She’s got other things on her mind.

Other things she shouldn’t have on her mind. 

But, she does. She really, really does.

________

Later that evening, the strange, conflicting emotions from her encounter with Emma and her mother, Brandi, are still plaguing Solana. She’s grateful that Roman has to take his dinner in his office due to work, because it at least gives her space to process such big emotions without him picking up on anything being wrong.

He seems to be very good at that. 

In preparation for winding down for the evening, she’s at the sink, washing the dishes when Roman comes up behind her. It’s only a brief second of tension that’s easily settled by his arms around her, his mouth on her neck. 

She smiles, noticing the increasing amount of comfort and want she’s experiencing at him touching her.

It’s getting to the point where she almost craves his touch.

It’s…comforting. 

Roman makes a sound, lips moving up to kiss her cheek. “Meet me at the pool in an hour.”

She frowns, turning toward him. “What?”

He brings hand to her mouth, thumb gliding over her bottom lip. “You said you wanted to get in, right?”

“I—” And she can’t protest, can’t find a way to politely disagree. Because she did say that. And he’s clearly holding her to it. “Yes.”

His hand slides down to cup her ass, Solana gasping quietly as he smirks. “Then let’s do it.” Her eyes shut, and she bites down on her bottom lip as he whispers in her ear, “I want to see that bathing suit of yours.”

Another gasp as he squeezes her ass. “Roman.” 

He says nothing else, walking away. Solana takes a second to reflect on the interaction, sits on the fact that he was able to touch her and she didn’t tense up. Didn’t freeze up. She almost…she almost liked it.

But what she doesn’t like is the fact that she now has to apparently meet this man in the pool wearing that bathing suit that nobody but her made him aware of. He would have never known she even owned it she hadn’t opened her mouth in a poor way to distract him.

And now he wants to see her in it.

And now the anxiety is growing again. 

Because while she’s grown more comfortable with his touching her, she’s been almost entirely clothed during those times. Even with the more revealing outfits. This one will definitely take the cake. She’s not sure her lingerie from their wedding night was as showy as this bikini.

She takes her time finishing up the dishes and is at least grateful to see he’s nowhere near their room or bathroom as she sneaks in and locks the door to put it on. 

Solana must mess around with the suit at least ten different times. Pulling. Tugging. Tightening. It doesn’t make a difference because the swell of her chest and backside prove too much. There’s not much to be hidden, to be camouflaged, to be covered up. And that’s always been her preference. Never in her life has she owned or even worn a two piece suit. And yet, here she is about to step out in one that leaves little to the imagination in front of one of the most attractive men she’s ever laid eyes on.

A man that gives her butterflies with just one look of his dark, beautiful eyes. 

She tries telling herself that it’s just Roman. That she shouldn’t overthink it so much. That he’s made his attraction to her clear, time and time again. But, it’s hard to factor those things in when he’s never seen this much of her, so much skin, so much scarred skin. Skin with stretch marks and cellulite. Scars from the stabbing. The pudge of her belly.

It’s all so…revealing. Physically and emotionally.

It’s almost to the point where she has more anxiety about him seeing this much of her body than actually getting in the water, which was and should be the main source of her abundance of nerves.

But, it’s not. It’s not because even with all of her progress, it’s so hard to not compare herself to other women he’s been with. Women like Samantha who look nothing like her, who must look better than her.

That brings on a deeper level of insecurity. 

Will he compare her body to Samantha’s? How can he not? 

They’re night and day. One is preferred. One is shunned.

And Solana has never been preferred.

Eyes watering, she reaches for the large t-shirt and slides it over her body, comforted by not being faced with so many flaws. Deterred entirely, she starts to think of an explanation she can give Roman as to why she can’t get in the pool tonight.

Or any other night. 

But when she steps out of the bathroom, that plan is thrown out the window because Roman is sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Shirtless.

Wearing only swim trunks.

She’s momentarily focused on him. Focused on every rippling muscle of his body that’s damn near perfect. So opposite of her own.

Realizing she’s staring, she shakes her head, “I—”

“It’s been an hour.” Roman drags his eyes over her, and it’s like she knows what he’s going to say before it leaves his mouth. “You’re not dressed.”

Pushing back some of her hair, Solana is very much focused on the piece of abstract art on the wall opposite his bed. “I was thinking—”

“No.”

That she wasn’t expecting. Such a….blunt rejection. Eyes back on him, she frowns. “What?”

“You’re not backing out.” Solana swallows. He sounds so definitive. “I won’t make you get completely in the water, because I understand why that’s difficult for you.” She says nothing, at least grateful for his understanding in that area. “But you can at least sit on the edge. Work your way up to it.” An ironic choice of wording considering the other thing they’re working their way up to. He stands from the bed, and as much as Solana wants to look away, she can’t. She’s focused on him. All 6’3 of him. So intimidating. But not to her. So strong. But he’s never used his strength against her. So attractive. The same way he feels about her. 

“Without the shirt.”

Her stomach drops, anxiety brewing again. “Roman….”

He’s suddenly in front of her, his hands reaching to pull her against him. “That’s not your trauma. It’s your insecurity, and I’m not accepting that shit because it’s not fucking fair for you to be as beautiful as you are and not see or feel it.”

She swallows as he reaches for the hem of her shirt. “Off.” It’s a statement, but there’s a questioning nature to it. Like regardless of how he feels, he’s still giving her the space to say no. 

To have that autonomy. 

It’s appreciated.

It’s also why despite her anxiety, with her eyes closed, she relents. “O–off.”

Roman doesn’t seem to waste any time pulling her shirt up and over her head. And as soon as she feels the chilly air of his room on her body, the realization that she’s more exposed in front of him than she’s ever been before, she’s crossing her arms over her chest. 

Hiding.

Embarrassed.

“No.” And his hands are on her forearms, pushing down, gently but with purpose. “No hiding.” She keeps her eyes closed as he forces her arms down at her side. “Solana, look at me.” And she wants to, she actually wants to, but it’s hard, because all she can imagine is his disgust, his disinterest. “Look at me.”

His tone is somehow forceful but gentle, in a way only he can do. In a way that never makes her feel scared, but always safe. 

So she obliges.

Roman’s gaze is on her, intentful and burning. His jaw is clenched. “It pisses me the fuck off that you’ve been made to feel anything less than fucking gorgeous.” And she watches as he travels his beautiful eyes over her body. Slowly. With a level of desire that she, even with all of her insecurities, can’t deny. Men like Roman don’t look at women like that unless they want them in that way. “The things I want to do to you….”

And once again, he’s affirming and practically repeating everything he’s assured her of several times now.

He wants her. 

“I’m going to make you believe it.” Wetting her lips, she watches Roman take her hand in his. “Come here.” 

He walks them over to the opposite side of his room where the black, full body mirror rests against the wall. His hands are on her hips, positioning her so that she’s standing directly in front of him, her back pressed into his chest. 

“Keep your eyes open.” His voice is commanding but still calm enough where it doesn’t unnerve her. “Spread your legs.” Solana is certain Roman can feel the way her body instantly tenses, because he’s kissing the shell of her ear, reassuring her. “Relax, baby. I won’t touch you there until you’re ready. Just trust me.”

And she does.

Maybe more than she’s ever trusted anyone.

It’s why she moves her legs apart so that her thick thighs are no longer rubbing against each other.

Again, he’s comforting her, “trust me…” Solana is briefly confused as to why he’s repeating himself when his hand is on her backside, squeezing in a way that makes her head fall back against his chest. “I love your ass.” She makes a sound, almost too low to hear when he moves his hands to her chest, big, strong hands cupping her breast. “But, I especially fucking love these.”

She moves her much smaller hands over his. For what reason, she doesn’t know. All she knows is that she nearly groans when his thumb flicks over her hardened areolas through the fabric of her swimsuit. 

“Roman….” Despite his clear directive, it’s hard to keep her eyes open when there’s so much coursing through her body.

“You know why I said your name when I was with her?” Not really, but also yes. It’s difficult for Solana to think straight with him touching her like this. A strange, unfamiliar feeling settling at the bottom of her belly. 

His mouth is back on her, kissing her jawline as he continues to caress her breast, alternating between light massaging and caressing her nipples. “Because I was imagining she was you. Because it’s you I want to be inside.”

Solana’s eyes are bouncing back and forth between open and closed, the soles of her feet  almost numb as standing suddenly feels much more difficult than it should be. There’s an unfamiliar ache in between her legs that has her thighs pressing back against each other. 

Her body is on fire, and despite this intimate touching, she has no desire to push him away. Doen’t feel shackled and stuck in a way that’s reminiscent of her trauma. She wants his touch on her. 

His deep, alluring voice is in her ear, watching every single one of her erotic reactions through the mirror. “There’s not a single part of you that I don’t want to touch….” Her breathing is labored and heavy almost as he moves his hand and trails his finger down the valley of her breast. “To feel…..” Her eyes are fluttering as his hand moves down to her stomach, hers shooting to rest on top of his, an unconscious effort to keep him from feeling the part of her that she’s always felt 

self-conscious about. Only for her to cry out when he lightly squeezes her stomach, rolls and all. “To taste….”

It should make her mortified, for him to be grabbing so freely a part of her that she used to cry over from embarrassment. But, it doesn’t. She’s simply trying to remain strong enough to remain on her own two feet.

Her body is on fire, and there’s this pressure building in her core. Intense but oh so delicious. A brand new sensation.

Whimpering, she moves her hand to his wrist. “Roman, I—”

“I know,” he coaxes, pressing his lips to her shoulder. “That’s what I want, baby.”  He moves his mouth over to her clavicle, tongue wetting her burning skin. “Want you to feel good….”

Good is an understatement. She feels completely overwhelmed in a way she didn’t think possible.

 And it only intensifies when his fingers create circles across her lower belly. Tears are pooling in her eyes, the throbbing in her belly and most intimate part increasing with every touch and every word that leaves his mouth. 

Solana also recognizes the wetness pooling between her legs. Something else she’s never experienced. Not like this. She’s been able to become aroused before, but never to this extent.

Not to this intensity. 

The pressure feels too much, too heavy, but she can’t seem to find the words to express as such while Roman continues to talk her through it.

“The next time you touch yourself, I want you to think of me.” His lips are ghosting the shell of her ear, his fingers continuing to trickle across the lower skin of her belly. “My mouth on you. Me inside of you.” 

She gasps, loud enough for it to almost echo throughout the room and almost bounce off the walls. “Oh my god….”

She feels just about ready to explode when his other hand has moved to her inner thighs, long fingers dancing across her skin and prying her thighs apart. She’s almost certain her essence has made her way past her bottoms and coats the tips of his fingers.  “I’m gonna be your first.” His words puncture her resolve, but it’s the latter statement that completely destroys it. “And your last.”

Solana cries out, stomach in waves as she squeezes his wrist, intense pleasure nearly knocking her off her feet if not for his strong arms around her. Solana feels partially discombobulated as he whispers things in her ear that she’s far too overwhelmed to make out.

She’s not sure how long she’s standing there, doesn’t know how long he’s holding her, helping her land back down to earth. She just knows there’s a pulsing between her legs that she’s never had before. An aftermath almost. 

The aftermath at what had to have been a climax. 

It takes a few minutes for her to finally be able to formulate words. She looks up at him, trying to not think too much of the way he circled his finger around the spillage between her thighs. It’s enough to make her womanhood start to pulse again. “how did—-I’ve never—”

Roman looks down at her, eyes almost narrowed with pure curiosity as she asks, “have you never had an orgasm before?”

Cheeks still flamed from what just occurred but also slight embarrassment at her answer, she explains, “I’ve—I’ve tried before, but I just—I couldn’t.”

He actually looks surprised but simply brings his hand to her chin, kissing her softly. “Well, it damn sure won’t be your last.” He gently bites down on her bottom lip before backing away. “Be outside in 10.” 

It takes a second for her to realize what he’s talking about. She’d completely forgotten what even kicked off all of that.

Watching him leave with her t-shirt, it’s only when he closes the door and she’s alone that something he said finally settles in.

Something that somehow gives her a sense of pleasure more enjoyable than even his talented touch. 

“I’m gonna be your first.” 

Just thinking of it brings tears to her eyes. For an entirely different reason. For so long, she felt so broken and devastated at having her virginity so brutally ripped away. To have it stolen from her before she could even understand what sex was.

And no, she can never truly get it back.

But this….Roman can give her. That first time of actually having a choice.

And that means more to her than he could ever know.

She cares for him more than she’s certain he knows.

And truth be told, Solana is starting to wonder if care is still a strong enough word to describe what she feels for a certain Roman Reigns.

________

After cleaning herself and gathering her bearings, Solana finds Roman out back already in the pool swimming laps as Dulce sits on the side just watching him, her tail wagging. She always seems so excited around him.

Taking advantage of him being underwater and not aware of her presence, Solana moves quickly over to the steps, faltering for a bit before stepping in just enough to where the water brushes against her knees. That’s when the anxiety starts. Her stomach begins knotting.

It’s also when Roman comes up from under, and she’s briefly distracted by just how good he looks while quite literally doing nothing out of the ordinary. She watches him swim over to her, one hand pushing back some of hair, the other reaching for her. 

She hesitates, and he sees it, gently reminding.

“I’ve got you….”

Solana just looks at him. He’s yet to not come through on that promise made time and time again. An oath almost, in every single situation where he’s asserted it.

It’s why she finds herself accepting his hand as she descends further into the water. And just as she recognizes her anxiety heightening along with the water that’s brushing against her chest, Roman tugs her against him. 

Gasping, her hands naturally move onto his shoulders, her legs naturally wrapping around his waist.

“Roman….” She’s looking from side to side as he moves them farther away from the steps. “I—”

“Can you swim?” His question both makes sense and serves as a brief distraction. 

“Y–yes, but I haven’t done it in years.” He’s still moving them though, and that still makes her nervous as more distance is created between her and a way to escape without actually getting under the water. “Roman, I—I can’t—”

“I know.” His assurance is soft, gentle almost. “I’m not gonna let you fall, Solana.”

And she swallows, because there’s an undertone to his statement. Like there’s another meaning that maybe one or both of them isn’t entirely ready to come to terms with.

It’s when they stop moving, she realizes that he wasn’t just aimlessly moving around. He wanted to bring them over to the stool within the pool that he sits on. It’s only then she really becomes cognizant of the fact that she’s straddling him as well as just how close her body is against his.

Not that he seems to mind.

His gaze on her is both distracting and tantalizing. She wants him to never look at her with such desire at the same time she wants him to never look away.

It’s….a strange experience.

Needing there to be some type of conversation, she goes with the first thing that comes to mind. “How….how was your day?”

Roman chuckles. “The same as most.” Solana makes an active effort to ignore how his hands remain planted on her ass, giving just the slightest pressure that makes her softly scratch at his taut skin. “How was yours?”

Eventful. She starts to tell him about Emma and Brandi, but that would somehow lead into a conversation about Solo and his odd behavior recently. And Roman already deals with enough. She doesn’t want to add onto his plate. 

She can handle that on her own.

It’s why she decides to share the most exciting news, a smile growing on her face. “I pinned Bayley today during my training.”

“Did you?” Something tells her that he already knew about this, that he was made aware of this occurrence prior to this moment. Regardless, she’s thankful for him trying to fake surprise. For him trying to give her the satisfaction of being the first to tell him. “Damn. They told me you’ve gotten good. That you’re fast.”

She nods, smile dimming a bit. “I do feel a little bad about how I did it though.”

“Don’t.” He’s quick to dismiss her concerns. “Bayley’s taken much worse in the ring.” After seeing Bayley fight on Night of Champions, she doesn’t doubt that one bit. “There’s actually something I want to talk to you about.”

Her anxiety returns at his ending statement. “O–okay.”

Roman seems to take a minute before explaining, “I think we need to expand your training.” Her confusion is evident and expected as he clarifies with all the preparation in the world for a less than pleased response. “You need to start training with a man.”

Deep down, she already knows his answer before she asks. But, she has to do it anyway. “Like with you?” Open to it, she even suggests, “or the twins?”

Safe people.

As expected, he shakes his head. “No. It needs to be someone you’re not familiar with. Not like you are with me or them.” She looks away, eyes focused on the spotlight on the opposite end of the pool. “It’s only to help you. You can fight now, that’s good. But, you need to learn how to fight someone you don’t feel comfortable with, because that’s the reality of our world.” He elaborates, seemingly pulling her closer to him. “I’m never going to let you be in a position where you have to defend yourself like that against a man, but it’s good for you to know regardless.”

That helps a bit. She believes him. Believes that he’ll never let her be in that space ever again.

But, there’s a ‘what if’ thought that she can’t push away. Because nothing in life is promised or final. Anything and nothing can happen. She could very well find herself one day on the opposite end of her brother, and the thought of him having that hold and power over her makes her sick.

Should that day ever roll around again, she wants it to be different. She wants to be different.

She wants to be able to fight back.

“I’ll do it.” She agrees in a quiet tone and goes on to briefly explain her answer. “I think—I think I need to do it for me.”

Roman simply nods and acknowledges her acceptance with a single word. “Okay.”

Solana is grateful he doesn’t follow up with additional questions. She doesn’t really want to talk about that, doesn’t want to participate in conversations that bring up old, painful memories. “Can I at least meet them before we start training?”

“Of course.” That provides another layer of relief. “Are you still alright with the Gala?”

And this time, she nods. A few days away, she’s already figured out her look for the evening, courtesy of Bayley and Naomi. Biting on her bottom lip, she finds her fingers moving across his chest. “I—I got my dress.” He makes a sound followed up with his mouth moving to her neck. “I think—I think you’ll like it.”

She struggles to keep her eyes open when he starts kissing on her wet skin. “I like everything you wear.” She smiles. “You thought about what you want for your birthday?”

 Once again, it’s hard to talk with him touching her like this. “No, cause I don’t–”

He chuckles against her. “Still on that shit, I see.” And before she can push him on that, he informs with all of the textbook coyness, “it’s alright, I’ve got it figured out.”

That makes her push lightly on his chest, to force his gaze on her. “What does that mean?”

“You’ll see.” His words are intentionally vague and don’t manage to answer her question. It’s expected, not entirely out of character for him, but still a bit irritating. 

She sighs. The last thing she wants is for this man to go out of his way for her more than he already has. “Roman…

“Solana, I’ve got you in my arms. Half naked.” His eyes take on a dark, lustful glint as he focuses on her mouth. “I really don’t feel like talking, baby….”

He brings his lips back onto hers, but it’s hard to get too into the kiss when her mind is so focused on one little word. 

Baby….

A nickname he seems to use with her more and more, the increasing usage doing nothing for the butterflies every time he calls her as such. But this time, this time the butterflies are for something more, something different.

Something she’s not even sure she should be telling him right now when they haven’t even consummated their marriage. 

It doesn’t stop her from saying his name, her tone serious enough to alert him that she has something to say.

“Roman….” He lifts his head, gaze focused on her, and Solana finds herself momentarily captivated by him. He’s so handsome. So attractive. The embodiment of strength. In so many different ways. Licking her lips, it falls out almost accidentally but also with all of the determination. “I’m going to give you an heir.”

His expression falters only for a second. He’s so good at maintaining composure at all times that it takes her off guard. His voice is lowered. “Solana, I told you, I’ll handle—”

“I know, but—but, it’s not because of that.” And maybe a part of it is, maybe she feels guilty that she’s failing to do the one thing he agreed to marry her for. Maybe it’s out of her trauma. Maybe it’s a sense of obligation. Whatever the potential contributors, there’s no denying the largest chunk comes from a place of pure individualistic want. “I never thought that I could, but….but I can.” This part she knows to be true. Solana never envisioned a life for herself where she could withstand the touch of a man, the desire to have a man touch her. The ability to be intimate. But Roman has changed all that. “I know I can, so I will.” When he says nothing, she adds on, starting to feel a bit unsure of herself. “And we don’t have to now, per se, but….we will. I—I want to do that for you.”

For us.

He still says nothing, but Solana can see there’s a million thoughts floating through her head. She’s prepared for him to push back, to maybe chastise her or scold her for whatever reason. In her experience, men have never really needed solid reasons to be upset with her.

He does none of that though.

Instead, she seems something gleam in his brown eyes, something she can’t name but feels is eerily similar to what she feels whenever she looks at him.

“Non sei quello che mi aspettavo.” Solana has no idea what he’s saying, but with the way he holds her, the way he hikes her higher onto his waist so she’s almost looking down at him, wet hands moving to his face, she doesn’t really care. Doesn’t really need to know. “Ma credo che tu sia esattamente quello di cui ho bisogno…."

—----------

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

Xavier smiles at the hint of nervousness in his son’s voice. Any other time, he’d scold him for weakness. But when plotting against the Bloodline, especially Roman Reigns, one can never be too careful.

“Not necessarily, but I do know your sister. She’s weak. Blinded by love.” Just saying the word leaves a bitter taste on the tip of his tongue. “Your mother fed her that shit, and now she holds onto it. It’s how I know she won’t let him do anything.”

Wes’s dark gaze rakes over his father’s still recovering state. “And yet he still put us both in the hospital.”

Xavier glares, voice icy. He hates being reminded of failure. “Watch it, son.”

We looks away, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his body. “I just think there is another way—”

“Have you heard from your sister? Found a way to get into contact with her without going through Reins?” Xavier already knows the answer but wants his son to recognize the stupidity of his stance. “This is the only way, and it’ll work. Trust me.”

Wes is still quiet, but Xavier is unbothered. He’s instead focused on his phone that vibrates three times, his lock screen showing a set of messages from an unknown number. And it’s in reading the messages that his day goes from good to so much fucking better.

“Well, I’ll be damned….” 

Wes notices the change in his father’s mood and gestures with his chin. “Who is it?”

“Not sure.” He reaches the phone to his son. “But, we’re definitely going to find out.”

And it’s when reading the text that Wes also smiles, the same wicked scheming oscillating in his father’s head traveling over to him. 

“Got you now, you little bitch….” Wes reads over the words once more, basking in the relief and potential this new development will provide.

Unknown: I believe we may have a mutual problem that needs to be….taken care of.

Unknown: Your daughter. Solana.

Unknown: Let’s meet.

—----------

translation: “you’re not what i expected, but i think you’re exactly what i need.”

[factual-fantasy]

25 asks! Thank you!! :}} 🫶

@tiredbeanperson

Thank you so much!! :DD Also I've been drawing literally as far back as I can remember.. I cant remember a time when drawing wasn't my favorite hobby.. so its hard to say what inspired me <:( however I do remember drawing sonic characters a lot back then! I also had some Sonic games. Maybe seeing Sonic in the games was what inspired me to stop using coloring books and draw for myself..? :0

Nowadays though drawing is my number 1 passion. I absolutely love to draw not only just for the physical act of drawing, but also to draw characters I like and tell stories and make characters and draw expressions and make gifts for people and WARRGHH :DDDDD

With this health crisis I'm going through, art has been a HUGE help. It keeps my mind busy and gives my fidgety hands something to do. I have other hobbies too, sewing, video games, writing.. but I only turn to those in attempts to recover from/get past art block faster. Art is truly my #1 passion💞💞

@chumkinboy2

I'm open to FNAF stuff! But keep and mind that I'm fixated on other things so I miiight not get around to it <XD but feel free to send it anyways though! :))

@zeanenica

Thank you! :DD Also that's why I never finished it, I could never decide/write down what happens next 💀 Just know that Ingo and Emmet were both intended to survive and make it back home to Unova-

@candyglumboy

They're kind'a odd Pokémon.. but I ADORE the color palette of Terapagos. So prettyyyy 😭💞💞💞

Oooo good question.. My first thought was Sylveon. Having a Pokémon that adored me and could calm me down by simply holding my hand would be soooo nice at this time in my life 😭😭💞💞💞

@mintbnny

I was so unprepared for that name XD 10/10 plant

@cozy-bea

The first thing that came to mind was Glamrock Freddy being a Bewear and Monty being a krookodile XDD Perhaps Roxanne would be a midnight lycanroc.. Chica could beeee... and unfezant? Maybe a blaziken?.. Hmm..

As for Gregory, the first thing that came to mind was an Eevee. But that's way too cliché XD Maybe a Toxel instead? Or maybe Freddy would be his Pokémon-

I don't really have a birth order in mind.. but I do know I want the runt to be the youngest of the 4 brothers.

I do have plans to give them different personalities. The runt will be shy and skittish. The big one will be the tough "I must protect my brothers and my mama" type. While also being one to punch first and ask questions later XD

The normal one is meant to be a little clumsy and not super smart. <XD He sees something shiny and he just happily runs over to it. Not thinking twice if what he's dong is a bad idea-

The shiny one is the smart one and kind of the "leader". If the piglets are ever on their own they will look to the shiny brother for guidance. He's smaller than the normal and big one but he will still fight if he has to.

I pictured Zorua being viewed as a little sister by the piglets, but maybe as an equal to the runt :00

AWWWW,,, THATS ADORABLE 😭😭💞💞💞💞

(In response to this post)

Thank you, and aw.. that's a beautiful name. Your rabbit must have been adorable.. Mine was a lionhead. I'm sorry for your loss.. <:(

Thank you, <:)) I'm hoping the same.. 😔😔

@mansion-of-haunts

Well hopefully with the "check FAQ pin" on the ask button that wont happen again. Thank you for coming back and apologizing though, that was really kind of you <:))))) thou is forgiven 😌😌

I DO like clowns! :)) They're fun to draw but hard to design well 💀

Black and white.. are you talking about Ingo and Emmet? :0 They're subway bosses, not salior men! <:D

@unpopularartist14 (In response to this post)

Yeah I've heard about those, I personally never do them <XDD

Also that's great! I'm glad I was able to help at least a little! :))

I'm glad my artwork is helping you through your grief, even if only a little.. I hope it continues to help.. Hang in there friend <:) 💞

Nah no worries! Thank you,, Its nice to hear. <:)) I'm managing as best I can..

@dorykitcat24

Its very possible! I had plans for her to at the very least pick up on some fire type moves :))

@captain-skyler1987

Woah! That was you all those times? :00 I'm really bad at remembering names so I recognize people by their profile pictures. I hadn't realized it was you!

Also no problem! Thank YOU for sending in asks! :DD Comments and asks are my favorite thing to receive on Tumblr. So I appreciate all the messages you've sent! :))

@smithanonsworld

If this was real life, I would have freaked out and swatted it away XD But considering I'm able to admire its beauty from behind a screen,, sure! I'll hold it for you! :) Good luck on your taxes! <:/

@rajou62

I know of the RAT! :D He's from the FNAF fangame candy's 3 right? Along side the CAT if I remember correctly..

I don't know who the Absolute solver is, but I can see that she's from Murder drones. I was never interested in that show, I really didn't like the art style.. <:/

(Referencing this post)

Don't know what Danganronpa is, but I have a feeling that you're right <XD

(Referencing this ask)

Oh don't worry about me, I have no intentions to interact with that fandom whatso ever. 😅

@pink088

I'm glad to hear you're feeling better! :)

As far as I've seen its a mascot horror game on Roblox, right? :0 I know nothing about it/have no opinion on it beyond that. <:/

I've heard of it, but I'm not personally interested... I wonder what diehard transformers fans think of it :000

[muldermuse]

Naughty List (Gator Tillman X F!Reader)

Gator comes round to reader’s house on Christmas Eve to get his gift.

This is in the two sinners world.

18+ only!! Smut ahead!!! Fic includes sub!Gator, dom!f!reader, oral (f recieving), mentions of wax play and piv sex, teasing language, use of restraints, dry humping, use of underwear as a gag, mentions of spanking with belt, panty kink????, brief aftercare. Reader fucking loves being mean to Gator hahaha I love her (me).

This is the completed version of this lil ficlet. And apologies, I was going to post it on Xmas day but I was too drunk and merry to edit and write. I’m not 100% with this one but it was fun fun fun. Like all the two sinners stuff is. Thank u all for reading and engaging with the series. ❤️ u all.

Ok seeing Gator on Christmas Day is out of the question. He’s spending the day with Glenda and Roy reciting their favourite psalms and thanking the lord for a bountiful Christmas. Glenda goes all out at Christmas, it’s obviously her favourite holiday and she constantly updates her Facebook with pictures of a content looking Roy and an exhausted looking Gator. No doubt, Glenda will have made him a piece of her artwork and bought him some novelty socks. He’ll smile at her and press a kiss to her cheek but you rejoice in the knowledge that thoughts of your Christmas Eve are running through his head. 

[sent at 13:30] You: got your Christmas present at my house. Door will be unlocked for when you finish at 6. I’ll be upstairs 🎁

[received at 13:42] Gator💩🐍: am i on the nice list?

[sent at 13:43] You: no. See you at 6 💋

***

His Christmas present is you- OBVIOUSLY. But it’s a version of you that Gator only really gets when he begs and even then, you don’t always give it him. He asks for this when you eat his ass or when he’s had a week of getting non stop shit from his daddy or Glenda. 

He wants you to turn him on that much his brain switches off.

He wants you to be in control and dominate him. 

You’re wearing a red lace set with garters and pointy red heels. It’s nearly pitch black by the time Gator arrives. You’ve left one lamp lit downstairs to guide him up but, honestly, he knows the layout of your home like the back of his hand. In the bedroom, your curtains are open with the twinkling of outdoor Christmas lights provide occasional flickers that illuminate your white linen bed sheets. A cinnamon candle is glowing by the door and nearly blows out when Gator enters as dramatic as ever. 

You’re sat at the end of the bed waiting for him and you smirk as you take in his expression- seemingly enthralled by your red look. 

“Crawl to me, baby” your voice is low and by the way Gator drops to his knees without hesitation and a look of relief on his face- you already know how tonight is going to go. 

He’s slow in his movement, keeping eye contact with you as he crawls towards your open legs and stopping a few inches from your panties. His eyes are fixed on the damp spot on your red underwear and his shuddering breaths are filling the room. You run your hands through his slicked back hair as you try not to recoil at the unnatural feeling of brushing your nails through hair gel. 

“Y’wanna taste?” He looks up at you with the most love sick eyes you’ve ever seen, he nods slowly as he brushes his tongue over his bottom lip. You grip his hair in your hand as you push him into your panties, “make me cum with my panties still on baby- y’don’t deserve to taste properly just yet”. He groans as he pushes his face further into your pussy. He’s messy with it and you can feel his spit dripping down between your legs. It feels so good and the knowledge that he’s desperate to please you brings you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Take my panties off and make me cum on your tongue Gator, don’t let me down” you throw your head back on the bed as you feel Gator rip your panties down your legs and throw them across the room. He’s that desperate to make you cum he’s moaning into your pussy as he eats you out and you know he’s palming himself over his cargos. Your back arches as you clamp your thighs around Gator’s head and cry out as you cum. 

He’s pressing hot kisses to your thighs as your pussy clenches around nothing, you can feel your breathing begin to regulate again as you come down from your high. Your hand smoothes over his ruffled hair, “that was so good Gator. You did such a good job…good to know you can do something right”. His smile drops at your final sentence. On trembling legs you head over to your closest to get the box that Gator both wants and dreads. The box is full of sex toys, restraints (some crudely made and some from a hidden sex store in town) and things that you’ve seen at a local store and thought could be fun and sexy. Jax has contributed to the box, he bought some candles and teased you for hours by slowly dropping hot wax over your chest whilst fucking you softly. Gator was devastated when he found out and had begged you to do it to him the next day. You weren’t as gentle and he fucking loved it. 

You can hear him kicking off his boots and unzipping his cargos. 

“Did I tell you to get undressed?”

“No but uh- I thought…”

You softly kiss him, tasting the remnants of your cum on his plush lips. “Don’t think baby, I know how hard that can be for you. Just lie on the bed dressed how you are now- hands above your head”. Your voice is authoritative and Gator never wants to disappoint you when he’s in this headspace. 

As soon as his hands are placed at your headboard, you click pink fluffy handcuffs around them and make sure that they are tight. There’s something about the sight of your local Sheriff tied to your bed with novelty pink handcuffs that you love. You’ve taken a picture before and when you really want to fuck with Gator you’ll send it to him when you know he’s working with his daddy. You look at Gator, a silent check in to make sure he’s okay and he replies with a quick nod. He looks fucked out already, his lower face is red from the lace rubbing against it and his usually perfectly placed hair is disheveled. He looks desperate and that’s exactly how he wants it. You retrieve your panties from the floor and sit over Gators clothed cock. 

“D’you really think you’re on the nice list this year baby? Can you tell me anything nice you’ve done for me?” 

You slowly start to grind against his hard cock. When you look down, you can see a wet spot of his pre cum soaking through his cargos. You can feel him thrust up to try and get some friction to his achingly hard cock. You quickly rise so he gets nothing. 

You grip his cheeks so his lips purse out “this isn’t good boy behaviour, Gator”. You inch closer to his face, “if you move again without my permission, you can fucking crawl home to her and fuck your fist to thoughts of me like some pathetic fucking loser”.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I’m f- I’m so sorry” he can’t think straight. His hands are in tight fists at the top of the bed and the sound of his breath filling the room. In and out. In and out. Probably trying to slow his breathing so he doesn’t cum when you start to grind down on him again. 

The red underwear is quickly pushed towards his face. “Can you smell my cum baby? You were so good at doing that. Y’want another taste?” He nods as the balled up fabric is shoved into his mouth. You watch in awe as his eyes roll back whilst the makeshift gag stifles his moan. Rotating your hips slowly, you start to rock against his hard cock. 

“Y’know when Jenson was round here a few nights ago. He left his belt, he was desperate to get his pants off as soon as he came in the door”. The fabric of Gator’s cargo is beginning to feel damp, you know it’s a mix of his pre cum and your arousal covering his work pants. It feels so good for you so you can imagine Gator’s getting close to cumming. His eyes are locked onto your body, watching your hips steadily swirl against him. “I was thinking I could use his belt on you, maybe could’ve bent you over the bed and used it to spank you”. His eyes screw shut and you can’t help the laugh that slips out. His body is stiff with tension underneath yours. 

“Gator,” you chide, voice high and mocking “are you gonna cum thinking about me using some guys belt on you? Thinkin’ about me punishing you?”. He thrusts up and rather than backing off him you press your pussy harder against him. Rocking your hips back and forth on his cock and hearing him whimper through the lace underwear in his mouth. You lower your lips to his ear as you order him in a whisper to “cum in your pants before I send you back to your girlfriend and daddy”. He thrusts one final time against you and moans loudly as his eyes screw shut. His hands are in tight fists as he pulls off from the headboard and breaks the handcuffs into two pieces. With his now free hand, he pulls your underwear out of his mouth with staggered breath. 

He’s cum in his pants; the already dark fabric now a darker colour around his crotch. His hands are covering his eyes with the broken restraints around his wrists like pink fluffy bracelets. You hear him curse under his breath as his breathing starts to normalise. He’s usually a bit vulnerable when you take control so you’re more affectionate than usual. Normally, after he cums you’re both in a hurry to leave, not wanting to stay in each others vicinity to enjoy the post orgasm bliss. It has to be different when it’s like this and you both silently know it. He sits up on the bed and you get in his lap again, slicking his hair back down and helping him get out of the now broken handcuffs. You press a soft kiss to his forehead and he grips your hip as a wordless thank you. 

Before he leaves, you hand him your panties with the smell of his spit and your orgasm still on the fabric. He smirks as he tucks them into his back pocket. 

On Christmas evening, he sends you a picture of his hard clock with your panties wrapped round it. It immediately turns you on as you can picture the scene. Glenda and Roy will be asleep in their rooms as Gator is fisting his cock with your underwear. His lip will be red from biting with him trying to keep his moans from slipping out. He’ll be thinking of you and it makes you feel fucking great. 

[received at 23:49] Gator🐍💩: [image attached]

[received at 23:49] Gator🐍💩: best Christmas present this year

[firawren]

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Beast squirmed. “I don’t know, Belle…”

“Please? I really liked having you with me in my bed, but your bed is bigger.”

He had liked being in her bed too, but that was the problem—he liked it too much. It had been so hard to pull away from her soft body and warm mouth that morning. But it was so hard to say no to her, too.

“Alright.”

Her face lit up with delight, and she linked her arm with his. “Let’s go!”

Beast felt a nervous anticipation fluttering in his stomach as soon as they walked into his room. She’d been in here before, but never with the intention to share his bed. They walked toward it together, and Beast swallowed thickly. The bed had been magically repaired and beautified when the curse broke, but was still enormous and solid enough for a huge beast like him. He knew for a fact it could stand up to the force of his frenzied rutting, in those times when his animal lust drove him over the edge. But there would be no rutting tonight, he firmly reminded his already betraying body. Just sleeping.

As soon as they stopped by the bed, Belle started unlacing her dress, and Beast’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

“Getting undressed for bed. Don’t tell me you normally sleep in all your clothes.”

Normally he slept naked, but there was no way he’d be able to make it through the night in a bed with Belle if he wasn’t wearing pants. He doubted he’d get much sleep tonight as it was.

But sleeping fully dressed like he had last night was dreadfully uncomfortable. So he pulled his shirt off and left it at that. Belle had seen him like this before. This would be safe enough.

He climbed into bed and stared hard at the ceiling while his blasted beast ears picked up every hushed sound of fabric sliding over soft skin and dropping to the floor as Belle finished getting undressed.

The previous night she had been sleepy, but tonight she seemed not to be, running her hands into his mane and kissing him eagerly as soon as she was beside him. He grunted and curled a paw around her waist, holding her close as his tongue explored her mouth.

The rich scent of her arousal bloomed out from her, making Beast feel almost giddy with want. He pulled his mouth from hers to bump his snout into the crook of her neck, where her scent was even stronger. His nostrils flared as he breathed it in, filling his greedy lungs with her desire. He swept his tongue over her throat, needing to taste more of her, and she moaned and rocked closer to him.

Continue reading chapter 8 of Transformation on AO3

This gorgeous artwork by @rain1940 was commissioned by my friend @thefamilybruno to go along with my Beauty and the Beast fanfic Transformation. In chapter 8, things start getting spicy as Beast and Belle finally start sharing a bed, though they won't end up as they are in this artwork for a wee bit longer yet...

[anangelwhodidntfall]

Let Me Take Care of You: Simon Riley

Call Of Duty Masterlist

word count: 800

description: Simon takes cares of you when your period shows up &lt;3

A/N: I found this artwork on Pinterest and the original creator is @shkretart

Simon wake up with a groan as he could hear you throwing up in the bathroom, making you get up and go check up on you. He cracked the bathroom door and saw you leaning over the toilet emptying your stomach, as he reached for your hair holding it back. 

"You okay love?" He asked rubbing your back with a frown. 

"Pretty sure I'm about to start my period or I got food poisoning." You said as he handed you some mouthwash. 

"Could be either. Why don't we get you back in bed and I'll get you some tea or ginger ale to settle your stomach?" He said.

You nodded your head allowing him to help you up and back into bed before he went to go make you something to help settle your stomach. A few minutes later he returned with some tea and a can of ginger ale, you watched as he set the ginger ale on the nightstand before handing you the tea. 

"Thank you Si." You said to him as you took a sip. 

 "Of course love, I hope it will help settle your stomach. Why didn't you wake me?" He asked you. 

"I literally felt myself about to get sick, so I literally only had time to run to the bathroom before I puked everywhere, and hardly had the chance to call for you in between me throwing up." You said. 

"I just worry about you love, with me being gone as much as I am, I don't get to take care you that much. So when I am here I want to do it as much as I can." He said making you smile. 

"I appreciate that Si, but you take care of me in more ways than one." You said setting the cup on the nightstand. 

You moved closer to him before laying down feeling him run a hand through your hair as you felt sleep starting to overcome you. When you woke up a few hours later, you were in so much pain making you groan as looked around for your boyfriend. 

"Si?" You asked. 

"In here love, Im just drawing you a bath." He said as laid their confused. 

"A bath for me?" You asked confused as he walked over to you.

"Yeah for you. Your bleeding so I was gonna let you soak in the bath while I changed the sheets and warmed your clothes up for you." He said running a hand through your hair. 

"Your the best Simon." You said pressing a kiss to his hand before a cramp hit you make you wince. 

"Let's get you in the bath, and I'll get you something for your cramps." He said pressing a kiss to your forehead.

He set you down and helped you strip before helping you into the tub, watching as you slowly relaxed before going to change the sheets. He was putting the sheets on the bed when he heard some of the bottles of shampoo fall making him worried. 

"Love?" He asked walking over to the bathroom. 

"I'm fine, just another cramp." You said through tears as he opened the medicine cabinet. 

"Here you go, do want some water?" He asked as you shook your head no.

"I hate seeing you like this...I wish I could your pain away." He said sitting next to you. 

"It's alright Si, these painkillers should kick in soon, the first day is always the roughest." You said lacing your hand with his. 

After a few more minutes of soaking in the tub, you finally felt ready to get out of the tub. Simon helped you out and let you get changed while he finished get the bed set up for you guys to relax in. You walked out of the room just in time to see him sitting in the bed, with some snacks making you smile as you climbed in next to him. 

"You feeling better love?" He asked you. 

"A little bit, thank you." You said to him. 

You felt him place his hand on your stomach making you happy that he always ran hot compare to you who was always cold. You felt him start rubbing your stomach making you closer your eyes as felt your cramps lessen. 

"Have I told you how much I love you?" You asked him. 

"A lot but it doesn't hurt to hear it." He said smiling at you. 

"I love you so much Si, thank you for taking care of me today." You said as pressing a kiss to his lips. 

"I love you y.n, I'll always take care of you." He said pressing another kiss to your lips. 

[13as07]

Object #9

(Akatsuki Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to リカ*Skeb受付一時停止]

Requested by: Anonymous

Word Count: 3,519

(This one is short compared to the rest. Idk what happened)

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Characters Include: Itachi, Kakuzu, Pain/Nagato

Name Calling: Kitten, Kitty, Penny, Bitch, Whore

Oral (Female Receiving)

Fingering (Female and Male Receiving)

Overstimulation

Choking/Hair Pulling

Death Threat

Creampie

Cock-warming

Titty Fondling

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     My sentence is cut off by the flapping of inked wings, long talons settling on the page of my book, a beak pressed into my cheek, and a dark glowing eye looking into my soul. "Hello there," I mutter, pulling away from the bird. "Is your master nearby?" I ask the pointless question; of course, Itachi is nearby. If he wasn't, his crow wouldn't be perched on me.

     The bird lets out a soft caw, half-stepping to press itself against my cheek again. "You're a weird thing aren't you?" I coo back, sliding a finger over its head, being gentle not to tug on its feathers. The bird shifts, making my finger run down its back.

     "Shoo," Itachi's monotoned voice suddenly butts in, his hands fluttering around. The crow caws back at its master but does start flapping its wings. "Sorry, he's a little...." Itachi blinks slowly, the both of us watching his bird vanish from the room.

     "A little what?"

     "A little bit of a horny bastard," Itachi grumbles, turning his attention toward me.

     "What?" I ask, more than a little bit confused. How does the bird wanting me to rub his back translate to him being a horny bastard?

     "Birds get aroused when they're pet anywhere but their heads and beaks. He's notorious for fooling people into... enough about my bird," Tach grumbles again, reaching down to delicately wrap my wrist with his fingers. "You should join me on a walk," he adds, using his hold to lead me to my feet.

     "Any destination in mind?" I ask, falling into step next to him.

     "My bedroom," he mumbles, impatiently tugging me forward. "I am finished with my mission for the day and wish to destress."

"Alright," I hum, curling into the masochist's side. I'm ushered into his room and quickly settled on his bed as Itachi sinks to his knees. "What are you doing?" I ask, toying with his headband before pulling it off.

"I told you I want to destress," he mutters, his long thin fingers sliding over my thighs, gently pushing my skirt up my legs. "Now, lay back so I can relax," Itachi murmurs, his hands snack up to my waist, slowly pushing me onto my back.

My back collides with the mattress for what feels like the hundredth time today. He slides upward as his hands slide down, rubbing my thighs as his nose nuzzles my legs apart. Feathery kisses are layered across my skin, making my pussy tremble before I'm even touched. Soon, his tongue slides out layering the kisses that previously decorated me. "You're teasing," I breathe out, my hands searching for the elastic holding half of his hair in place.

"I am not. I am relaxing," Itachi mutters, sliding further up. His hands land on my hip bones, starting to massage them as his tongue trails over my pussy lips, making me tingle even more. "Don't you want to help me relax, Kitten?"

"Of course I do, Tachi," I murmur, my hips jerking forward.

He softly chuckles, pushing my hips back down on the mattress. "So eager for my tongue, aren't you? A pretty kitty that wants me to make her pussy purr," Itachi teases, finally giving me what I want. His tongue slithers out, instantly finding my clit, rubbing flat, slow circles against it.

Steadily the circles gain speed, the pressure of his tongue increasing too. It doesn't take long until a hand falls away from my hip, a single finger poking at my hole. Why is Itachi always such a tease? Because he likes my whines and my squirming. Because he likes shoving my hips against the bed to keep me still.

Itachi's movements stay slow, inching his finger into me before curling it against my walls. Courtesy of the shiny glow of his activated sharingans, it doesn't take the boy long to find my g-spot. A satisfied hum comes from him when my body jerks in response to his finger brushing it. "It is always so relaxing to see you quiver under me."

     "Of course it is," I hiss, my thighs squeezing his cheeks, making them chub out as he stares up at me. "You're a... a behavior expert dumb... dumbie. Stupid sharingan user."

     He slides another finger into me, aiding my building orgasm. "Oh kitten, don't be mad at me. Especially when I pull reactions out of you doing something nice. I could get reactions out of you a lot worse ways," Itachi mutters, before switching his action on my clit. His lips wrap around it, softly sucking as he slides a third finger into my pussy, stretching me out even more and adding more pressure to the leg-shaking spot.

     "Itachi," I whine, squeezing tighter in hopes it'll stop the uncontrollable movements of my muscles.

     "Kitten," he hums before sucking on me again, his tongue sliding out to swirl over my clit as he sucks on it.

     "Dear Lord," I wail, my back arching in response to the sparks slithering through my body and the cum spilling out from my orgasm.

     "Ah," Itachi hums again, quite content with himself. He pulls back a bit, less pressed up against me but his tongue still swirling through me, licking up the mess he caused. "My favorite way to relax."

     "Hey, hey, hey," I whine, trying to push his head away. "I'm sensitive. Knock it off."

     "Just one more," Itachi murmurs, pushing my hand away before focusing on my cunt again. His lashing at my clit makes me shift more than before. My hips thrust like crazy, thighs slamming against his head, and pussy clenching around his tongue he slithered into me. "So antsy, Kitten. Calm yourself," he says, a soft smile on his face as he pins my hips down again.

"Easy for you to say," I huff, squeezing his head again when his nose bumps against my clit. "Damnit," I moan, arching again when Itachi's tongue finds the lovely little spot he likes to abuse. He does just that, adding pressure to and sliding over it, his nose routinely rubbing against my clit as he bobs his head. "Fuck you, Itachi," I wail, my orgasm making me arch enough that my shoulder blades pick up off the bed.

"So delightful," he hums, pulling away long enough to suck in a breath. Itachi dives right back in, tongue swirling around to clean me off again.

"Okay, okay. That's enough," I whine, attempting to push his head away again. This time his head does pick up, coated in my juices enough that it's dripping down his face, trailing across his neck. "Do... do you want head now?" I ask, relaxing on the bed for a breath.

"No, I'm fine here," he mutters, head dropping again.

"What the hell, Itachi," I yelp, my legs locking around him and my hips bucking as his tongue eagerly slides against my clit again.

His head snaps up, and a soft glare shoots at me as he shoves me back into position. "I told you to calm yourself. If you can't find a way to stay in place, I'll find a way to keep you in place." My head lulls against the bed, my fingers clinging to the roots of his hair. I need to find Itachi a better way to decompress.

                        ———————————

     The cold demeanor of Kakuzu enters Nagato's office before he does, sending shivers down my spine. I was so happy that he had a mission today and was hoping Pain would swoop me into his self-centered constant need for attention before Zu had the chance to catch me in his grasp. Sadly, that isn't happening.

"Penny," he calls, turning the cold trickle of fearful anticipation into sharp icicles whittling at my spinal cord. "I have had a very bad day." And I'm about to have a very bad evening. "Come here."

"Yes sir," I whisper, standing up from the fluffy office chair I was seated in, reading my book and eagerly waiting for Nagato's return. At least I know he's back and that I'll get to see him after Kakuzu gets his needs fulfilled.

I slowly sulk over to the assassin, his hand instantly wrapping around my throat once I'm within reach. "Sit on your knees and don't act like a whiney bitch for once," he husks out, cutting off my air the whole time he speaks. Instantly I start sinking to my knees, figuring it would be better - and faster - to give in to his wants.

Kakuzu's fingers melt away from my neck as I settle on the ground, breath once again sliding into my lungs. In no time his dick is being pressed against my lips and his hand is buried in my hair, shoving me forward. The tip of his penis pushes past my lips, not stopping until my nose is pressed against his stomach.

     Gags choke out from around him, Zu's pace instantly fast and the head of his dick instantly slamming against the back of my throat. His fingers tighten on my hair, keeping me in place as he uses my mouth to fuck himself. I can't help the choking and heaving sounds that spill out with every thrust he forces.

     "Can't you shut up?" He grumbles, thrusting harder as if that'll help. "Your choking is getting annoying." I don't bother trying to stop the sounds. It's not like I could if I wanted to. "Penny," Kakuzu husks out again, his anger quickly bubbling the longer I struggle. "If you get sick on my dick, I'll make you lick it up before I slit your throat."

     I try to babble out an apology, not like he'll take it or that it sounds like one. The older man continues to grumble, his annoyance building the longer he face-fucks me. "This is pointless. You're not pleasing," Zu groans, pulling himself out of my mouth. That is not how I saw this ending.

     He shifts his fingers in my hair, getting a better grasp on it before using it to pull me to my feet. "Turn around," Kakuzu orders, even though he's actively turning me himself.

     "You can't, Zu. Pain said so," I rush out, reminding him of the Iron-Fist Ruler's orders just a little while again. My throat burns as I speak, the rawness of it finally shining through from my day of use.

"And I care because?" He asks, shoving me forward so I'm leaning over the chair I was just sitting in. "If you could perform properly we wouldn't be in this situation," Kakuzu adds, sliding himself inside me. He leans forward, crushing me under his body weight as his hand slithers its way around my neck again. "You make a single peep and I'll snap your neck, am I understood?"

I quickly shake my head, already having to bite on my tongue as he slowly pulls back out before slamming back into me. "Dumb bitch," he complains, pace back to being fast and rough. Zu's hand tightens with every thrust until my oxygen is cut off again, making my hands jump up to tug on his hand. "A needy bitch too," he continues to groan, loosening his grasp a bit. "At least you're free, I suppose."

I suck in a string of breaths, trying to chase away the fog that started fogging my mind. "Slow... slow down," I murmur, his dick quickly reigniting the pain caused by Hidan not so long again. "It... It hurts, Zu."

He chuckles, moving his hips even faster. "Again, why would I care? I don't care how you feel as long as your cunt keeps squeezing me."

My teeth click together, trying to shove down the whine clawing up my throat. It doesn't take long until he's bottomed out, stuffing my pussy full of his cum. "Damnit," he grumbles, tightening his hold on my neck again to take away my ability to breathe. "Why do you have to be such a tempting little whore? Now I'm going to get my ass beat because you can't keep your legs closed."

"It's... it's not my... fault," I wheeze, trying to tug his fingers off of me again.

"Of course it is," he starts, losing his hands from me just to place them on my shoulders and shove me back on my knees. "Turn around." Slowly, I do as I'm told, turning around to face Kakuzu. "While we wait for my cum to drain out of you, you can clean the mess you made," he tells me, hand back in its spot in my hair, tugging me toward his dick again. "Get to licking, Penny."

My pussy tingles and aches as I lean forward, sliding my tongue out. As obedient as ever, I continue to listen, licking at Kakuzu's twitching cock. His cum does slowly leak out of me, leaving my cunt pulsing from the feeling and making the room echo with the sound of the liquid dripping onto the floor.

My focus stays on cleaning Zu off, my tongue trailing over every inch of him, lapping up the mix of my juices and his cum that stains his tips. "I'm all done," I mutter, sitting back as I stare down at his feet.

"No, you're not," he chuckles, shoving me backward before pressing my nose to the ground, directly in the puddle of his seamen covering the floor. "Go on, continue cleaning," Kakuzu orders, rubbing my nose in the mess. "I don't have all day."

I let out a soft whimper before glaring up at him. I lick at the floor, cleaning up Kakuzu's disobedience like a dog. He cackles the whole time, finding a lot of amusement in the moment. Maybe after this, I'll take a nap. I swear Nagato has a sixth sense for when I'm sleeping; always whining that I shouldn't be napping without him.

                        ———————————

     As I push open the door to Nagato's room, thoughts of taking a shower instead of napping circle my head. Everyone's needs have been filled so I should be done for the day... as long as Deidara's and Itachi's gears don't start turning again. Kakuzu and Hidan might be the most brutal but the younger boys' never-ending stamina takes a bigger toll on me too.

"There you are," Pain's voice greets me, the already pissy murderer crew leader sat at his makeshift vanity, papers, and scrolls spread out on the counter. "I have had an unpleasant day today."

"I assumed," I mutter, my body noticeably relaxing at his soft tone.

"Why is that?" He asks back, matching the volume of my voice.

"You had business to handle with Kakuzu and he was... not very happy," I answer, making my way over to Nagato. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, slouching my weight against him and the chair he's sitting in. I bury my head in his neck, ignoring my body's protest to the poles stabbing into me from my position. "We should take a nap."

"I have work to do," Pain answers, leaning back so I'm pressed against him more. "But I suppose a small break would clear my head. Besides, I need to inspect you."

"Inspect me?" I mumble, finally letting my exhaustion take over.

"Yes, inspect you," he repeats, standing up before wrapping me in his arms. "How else am I supposed to be sure everyone followed my orders?" Well, he has a fair point I guess.

     Nagato sets me on the bed, keeping his arms around me as he shoves my legs upward. His head buried under my skirt, causing my face to heat up. I don't know why it's embarrassing to have him looking at me like this. I mean he's my lover, he's done a hell of a lot of things to me, it shouldn't be embarrassing to have him look at my pussy.

His hands slide down, arms still keeping my ankles on his shoulders and my legs spread. "It is red," he mutters, fingertips gently spreading me open as his thumb starts to toy with my clit.

"Of course, it's red!" I yelp, softly bonking his head with a closed hand. "Don't say embarrassing things like that."

Pain's head shifts up, my skirt slowly falling off his face as he glares at me. "I know what your vagina is supposed to look like. I spend a lot of time buried in it. It looks..." his head ducks down again, back to hiding under my skirt. "Irritated. What have you done today?" The question is followed by his fingers spreading me open wider.

     "Who have you done today?" He asks, fingertips dipping into me, scooping at me before he reappears in my sight. Nagato's focus flips between his fingers coated in the leftover sticky mess Kakuzu left and my face. "It certainly was not me."

     "Um..." I mutter, trying to close my legs, failing because of our position. "Kakuzu got a little... forceful."

     Pain hums to himself, wiping his fingers on my clothing. "That explains the mess but does not explain why you're so inflamed though. What happened while I was away to cause your discomfort?" He asks, disappearing again. His tongue slithers over me, slow and gentle, his head barely moving to take away the possibility of his piercings snagging on me.

     "Well... um... the, the, the crew got real creative," I stutter trying not to squirm from arousal or discomfort.

"What might that mean, Princess?" He leads my answer, the tip of his tongue pushing into me, continuing to trail soft circles.

"Sasori fucked me with a puppet," I breathe out, my back already starting to arch. Screw Itachi and his damn tongue and his stupid sharingans that give away my every twitch. Screw Kakuzu and his inability to follow orders. Screw Nagato for not giving me a break between them let alone my nap.

     "Interesting. Anything else?" He pushes, the vibrations of his voice only making me tremble more.

     "Hidan fucked me with his knife," I mutter quickly, my hands shooting down to attempt at pushing his head away.

     Nagato groans, giving into my want and pulling away from me. "Why should I share my toy if it's always returned to me broken?"

     "I'm not broken," I wail, using my legs still prompted on his shoulders to pull him on top of me.

     Again, he gives in, resting his head on my stomach and tightening his arms around my legs. "No, you're not broken. Just hurting, which is still a shame. I suppose I could go back to my work."

     "No," I whine, tightening my limbs around him. "I want to take a nap."

     "And I wish to have sexual relations but I don't get to do that," he grumbles, lifting his head to shoot me a glare. "It is such a waste. My break from my work, the vacation you had, the money and time I spent on the vacation. Wasteful," Nagato lectures, his hands wandering over me as he speaks, gripping different parts of me.

"However," he slowly starts up again, arms wrapping around my back before he lifts me off the bed. "There is a way we could both get what we wish for."

"Ya?" I mumble, locking my legs around his hips.

"Yes. You can nap while I work. All you have to do is be a nice warmer for me," he shortly explains, settling into his desk chair again. "After all, you're stretched and wet. Why would I waste more of my efforts."

     Pain rests me on his lap long enough to pull his dick out before I'm tugged forward. He inches himself in, my pussy stinging a bit. "Hush, hush, hush," he coos, a hand sliding under my shirt to grip my titty. "Give it a moment and you will be fine."

     "I know," I mutter, resting my head on his shoulder and letting my arms hang limp in his lap. "So I get to just nap and you'll work?"

     He lets out a hum, squeezing my breast as his free hand goes back to flipping through the papers he's looking at. "When I am done we will have bathtub sexual relations. It should help with your inflammation. Tomorrow we shall go into town to make sure none of your bodily functions were harmed today."

     I softly nod my head, tingles rattling my spine when Nagato starts sliding his thumb back and forth over my nipple. "Is that your only plan for tomorrow?"

     "No," he answers, the word coming out chipped. "I plan to tie Sasori up like the puppet he is, use Hidan as a personal knife block, and as for Kakuzu... perhaps I'll tie him to a chair and burn a stack of his money in front of him."

     I let out a little giggle, clinging to the material of his Akatsuki cloak. I slowly lift my hips, bouncing on him a few times before I'm rested on his lap again. "Settle yourself, Princess. Take your nap and let me work."

     I nuzzle my head further into his neck, letting out a sigh. "I like you, Nagato."

     "I wish you'd stop saying that."

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[bullet-prooflove]

Valentine's Day Bingo: Paint - OA Zidan x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @trublu2u @mrspeacem1nusone @greenies-green @rosaliedepp @whateversomethingbruh @anime-weeb-4-life @daydreaming-belle @burningpeachpuppy @scarlettsakura @divergent146 @upsteadlogic @malindacath @skyesthebomb @yezzyyae @redpool @kmc1989 @stxrryswvrld @district447 @soultrysworld @reneejett4 @yousigned-upforthis @stelacole @tems13 @abby-splace

Hitting Bingo Square: Body Paint

You’re different from the other women Omar’s been with, in bed and out of it. You’re teach him about sensuality, that sex doesn’t have to be a race to the finish, it’s about connection and intimacy.

Your confidence has built since the first time he took you to bed. He’d been honoured that you had chosen to take that step with him, he knows how hard it can be to give yourself someone else, to trust them with your vulnerability.

There’s a playfulness in you tonight, he’d seen it in your eyes when he’d unwrapped the gift you’d brought home this afternoon. He’d been sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone when you had set it down in front of him.

“Body paint.” He had uttered, studying the box with interest before you’d taken his hand and lead him to the bedroom.

You undress him slowly, his forehead resting against yours as your fingers undo the buttons of his shirt. It plays out like a seduction, gentle fingertips and teasing kisses gracing his skin until he finds himself splayed out upon a set of old sheets you’ve laid down especially for the occasion.

He’s a masterpiece, your man. All of that firm muscle and bare skin. His arm is thrown up above his head as he watches you with those beautiful dark eyes of his. He’s hard already, his cock leaking onto his stomach because the feel of your hands on his body…

It ruins him.

You start with orange, a tiny dab with the soft brush. The paint feels cool on underside of his bicep as you guide the brush over his flesh. It’s a pleasurable feeling, light and teasing. He makes a  noise in the back of his throat as you allow the paintbrush to trail down his shoulder, following the line of his collarbone until you reach the centre of his chest.

“How does it feel?” You ask him, pausing to reapply more paint to your brush.

“Good.” He says, his voice a little rough. “Relaxing.”

“You have been a little tense over the past couple of days, I thought it might be a fun way to diffuse some of that.” You say distractedly as you swirl the paintbrush over his sensitive skin.  

“It’s working.” He mumbles, his hips arching just a little as you doodle down the centre of his chest.

You take your time with him, using his body like your canvas until he’s needy and wanting. When your tongue runs over the tip of his cock, a moan tears from his throat. He tilts his head to look at you, those pretty lips of yours wrapping his dick as your gaze meets his.

“Hanna…” He warns you because the build up it’s been too much and the sensation of your mouth, it’s overstimulating, it drives him right to the pinnacle of ecstasy and he just can’t stop himself.

You pull your mouth away from his cock with a lewd pop, your palm replacing it. It barely takes more than a couple motions before he’s coming, his release spilling over your hand and across his stomach in thick spurts.

It takes him a couple of minutes to catch his breath but when he does Omar finds himself laughing as he stares down at the artwork that covers his body. He’s never felt as free as he does with you, so light, so content. He smiles as you lay down alongside of him in your underwear, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek as he whispers.

“It’s your turn.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[ymaohoh]

Masterlist

So I've fallen right into the deep end of the HellCheer fandom. Ride or die. I'm in love with Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie Munson. The fans are fucking talented too, alright? I've been binging fics and the artwork but there's certain troupes/ideas/prompts that keep rattling away in my brainbox. I'm going to note them here for if (or when) I maybe write something for the two...but (public service announcement) if anyone knows a fic out there which can scratch these little itches please link me up.

Updated: 18.04.24

My Completed Fics

Chrissy starts dating. Eddie's not thrilled - Dating Chrissy - oneshot

Eddie wants to buy something nice for Chrissy. Candles are romantic, right? He ventures on a quest to the mall - Yankee Candle Baby - oneshot.

Chrissy is such a Brat with Eddie and Jason watches it (while hiding). Jason's POV - Chrissy Cunningham is a Brat - oneshot - mature

What if Chrissy ran from Eddie after her vision? What if it pushed them apart? They later share a joint and things get much much worse. My take on 'Chrissy lives' but it takes a little while for them to get back on the same page - Chrissy Runs Away - Chapter 3/3.

Eddie and Chrissy have unprotected sex against a brick wall after his gig because they can't wait - “We could always just…do it anyway?" - oneshot - mature

Eddie and Chrissy die but they're summoned again for the final fight Ft. time travel and angst - my hope for season 5 - Howl - oneshot

Gender Swap AU where Ellie Munson saves Chris Cunningham - a play on 'Chrissy Lives' - Rule 63' - oneshot

Ongoing

Vecna keeps Chrissy in hell - 'and she's a bride of the fucking devil' - 2/2 chapters.

My Mess of Drabbles

Eddie dies and Chrissy is waiting for him - end of passion play, crumbling away - short drabble only

Chrissy the Vampire Slayer AU

Labyrinth AU

X-Files AU

Pirates AU

Stardust AU

Jason joins the good side AU

Photocheer moodboard (Chrissy x Jonathan)

Headcannon Prompts

Max's relationship with Hellcheer

Dustin's relationship with Hellcheer

Chrissy and Wayne Munson's (beautiful) relationship

Chrissy and The Party headcanons

Favourite Fanfictions Masterlist

Need a new fic? Not sure where to start? Check out these INCREDIBLE Hellcheer fanfictions

In need of/ Prompts

Chrissy gets her first tattoo. A cliche at this point no? I'm torn between her getting this done without Eddie knowing as a surprise, or if I want him right there holding her hand.

Eddy eyeing her up in the school cafeteria or class. Basically Eddy simping over Chrissy.

Anything with Eddie and Chrissy reuniting after death / or in the upside-down (manifesting the second).

Chrissy and Eddie getting high together. Maybe a dash of 'will I remember any of this tomorrow?' as they confess their feelings and frustrations.

Eddie loves Chrissy in a sundress. The more feminine, girly, and flouncy the better. He wants to get his hands under it.

He also loves her in a Hellfire top. Anything really that marks her subtly as his.

Other character POV's watching them flirt. Sweet sweet music to my...eyes?

He loves it when she wears one of his rings. She has plenty of her own jewelry (and it's all real gold/expensive/fit for a princess) but it doesn't mean anything really. Her eyes light up at his rings, though.

Together they create a D&D character for her to practice with. They discuss what type she's most likely to be (Eddie's a bard right?). I'm feeling Chrissy might also have that bard energy (she's THE hype girl, right?) or a healer? They definitely get distracted though and don't actually finish it.

He is a rambler. He talks when he's nervous - and Chrissy finds it easy to keep up.

Chrissy tells the jocks to leave the Hellfire club alone in the school corridor. She gets annoyed when she hears them referring to the kids as 'freaks'. Eddie adores the fire and nerve he sees in her eyes because it only really ever comes out when she's in protective mode (bonus points 1) if she tells Jason to fuck off 2) she walks away with the Hellfire club after).

Chrissy is the only one who gets him to study (and pass). He knows he has a reason to now, you know? They've got plans and he isn't wasting time.

Eddie has doubts about Chrissy really truly loving him - she's way out of his league, after all, so she makes sure to create visual reminders. She takes their photo together and tacks it up in her locker for all to see.

Eddie loves fucking Chrissy in her cheerleading uniform. She loves fucking him when he's backstage. They will want to mark their place in each other's bizarre worlds.

Eddie worries about his future with Chrissy (what's his dumbass supposed to do while she excels at college?) but he likes the way his last name suits her.

Eddie is ONLY soft for Chrissy. A scene where he's trying to be big and scary for the club and she unknowingly fractures this image by doing something oh so achingly cute. Maybe she giggles or squee's during a D&D session? It takes him ages to drag himself back into his DM role.

I'll be adding to this , fo' sure.

Is there an official name for this dynamic? Unpopular baddass x sunshine princess?

All aboard the ship. Ahoy ahoy.

[newtonsheffield]

A gift for @folklauerate

“Mary, Mary, Mary, Mary!”

Mary laughed at her friend’s voice in the crowded bar, taking a sip of her drink, “No, don’t get excited, Rach. I can’t stay that long.”

Rachel groaned, swaying a little, clearly far drunker than she should be at this time of night, “No! You never come out anymore since you started working! You were supposed to be here two hours ago and Mark was asking after you.”

Mary rolled her eyes, “Mark, will find someone else to fuck tonight, I am positive.”

She didn’t bother to deny the fact that she was late. She’d known she would be as soon as Tharman got home and he’d picked Kate up with a roar, his hair falling in his eyes and his smile bright and her stomach dropped when he looked at her.

“Hey, do you have time for a coffee tonight?”

It had become their little routine, somewhere along the way, Kate laying on the floor in the living room, enjoying her TV time and just for a moment Mary could pretend that this was her life. Tharman’s leg brushing hers as he told her about his day and everything about him drew her in closer. The stupid little crush she’d developed on him, threatening to drown her.

So even though she knew that if she didn’t leave right that second she’d be late for her friend’s birthday she nodded, “Yeah, of course.”

He’d grinned at her as pulled a bag of pastries from his satchel, “I was hoping you’d say yes.”

What was she supposed to say to that?! To the man who had absolutely no idea the fact he had on her. The man who saw her as his friend’s daughter.

“You’re boring now that you have a job.”

Mary clicked her tongue, “Well I do have to be responsible for the care of a child in the morning.”

“Not to mention the fact that you want to impress Daddy.”

Mary laughed, taking a swig of her drink, feeling her head starting to buzz just a little. “See, that’s why I don’t need top hook up with Mark anymore. I have a brand new vibrator and the memory of DILF Daddy Sharma’s hands on my waist when I slipped on a wet step this afternoon.”

Rachel guffawed, “Oh I bet the step was wet you dirty bitch.”

Mary rolled her eyes, letting out a groan of frustration, “He’s so fucking hot. And his daughter’s so fucking cute, she’s so sweet and he’s such a good Dad and I want that?”

“You want to have a good Dad?”

“I want a cute Dad for my fictional child.”

“Oh, she wants a daddy.”

“I do want a daddy.” Mary sighed, “Just as one little treat, I want to stop fucking guys like Mark and fuck a sweet little aeronautical engineer. Is that so wrong?”

“I don’t think it’s wrong, but you objectifying a man who wears Birkenstocks is fucking wild.” Rachel laughed, gesturing to the bartender for a round of shots, “Okay, let’s have some ore drinks, and forget all about DilF Tommy boy.”

“His name’s Tharman.”

“Imagine your dad’s face if you fucked his friend though. Hilarious.”

“Unfortunately I think the closest I’m going to get to that is his battery operated namesake.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’m your best friend.” Mary hummed jerking her head, “Do your shot before I change my mind.”

_________________

“Alright Katie Kat, time to clean up, Appa will be home soon.”

Mary’s head ached a little as Kate clapped her hands over her finished artwork of what appeared to be a dog co-piloting a plane next to her, all the colours bleeding into one another. It made Mary smile, swatching the tiny little girl with so much joy on her face as paint covered her hands and face and all over plastic table cloth Mary had put down to protect the table.

“Can we hang this one up? It’s a good one, Mary-Mary.”

Mary smiled at the nickname, kneeling down in front of the tiny girl whose curls were hanging down in her face. “Of course we can, Your Dad will want to see this one for sure.”

“Daddy loves all of my pictures.” Kate said proudly.

Daddy is fucking right.

“Why don’t you run upstairs and wash your hands and I’ll pop this one outside to dry?”

“K!”

Kate hugged Mary tightly around the middle before she ran off and Mary smiled after her, her heart fluttering in her chest. She sighed, a little glad to finally have a minute to herself. She took Kate’s painting, walking it carefully out to the tiny back garden and weighting it down before making her way back inside for the water and the paint palette to wash.

she should have been paying more attention but she let her mind wander as she stepped outside, sighing. She was thinking about how her fingers had typed out a text last night to Tharman and how her cheeks had burned this morning when she’d seen it, mercifully unsent.

“Fuck’s sake!”

The jar of dirty water had slipped through her fingers and splashed all over her white Tshirt, followed by the paint palette. Mary pulled the sopping shirt away from her skin, the string smell of the paint making her gag a little with her hang over. She spotted a sweater over the back of a chair not too far away and deliberated for a moment before she sighed.

She pulled her shirt over her head, dropping it to the floor and reaching out for Tharman’s sweater, the fabric soft under her fingertips. She could nearly smell his cologne clinging to it as she lifted it up and-

“Oh my god! Oh my god! I’m so sorry!”

Mary let out a surprised squeak at the sound of Tharman’s voice, spinning around. He was staring at her, with his lips parted in surprise and his hand was stopped halfway to his hair. She could feel his eyes burning into her skin and something tense rippled through the air as she stood half naked in his garden, the moment stretching on longer and longer. Heat flickered in the pit of her stomach as she saw Tharman’s throat bob convulsively and his hands tightened to fists at his sides.

She cleared her throat, “Sorry, Kate and I were painting and I… very stupidly got paint all over my short. I was just going to…” She pointed at the sweater, “Pop this on while I washed mine.”

Tharman seemed to shake himself, swallowing again and shuffling awkwardly, “I um… sorry, you um… you caught me by surprise. Yes, please, take that. Why don’t you… keep it actually I um..” He pointed back inside, “I just need to take care of something.”

He scrambled back into the house leaving Mary staring after him and goddamn it, when she went home that night she pulled the sweater over her nose as she fell into bed.

[chalk-prnce]

You sure we're out of their sight?

in which you can't admit that you like komaeda, let alone liking a boy. warnings ; internalised homophobia, breakdowns male reader x komaeda nagito

im so sorry for never posting! i forgot all about this account and focussed on my ao3 account! but im here now so, enjoy that "Car lights" fanfic i promised but a different title.

The sun had already set, a premature twilight settling over the horizon as you stared out with the entire universe on your shoulders. Perhaps you should be more glad to get away from the city for a bit, even if you were only about 20 minutes away. Your friends proposed to all go out tonight, but you refused. You can't function properly if you don't figure yourself out and quick.

Sand crunched under your shoes as you breathed a hissing intake of air- it wasn't the best day for you today. You had drove to the nearest sea shore after a long day of battling your own disgust to something you'd rather not name. Even labelling it was shameful but tempting. If you say it aloud, usually it confirms it in your mind. For example- saying how much you love watching shitty sitcoms that you found hilarious when you were about 10 at the age of 17 going on 18 kind of seals the deal on it. A verbal contract- a shameful confirmation. 

Your tank was about one fifth filled up, and you were running on fumes of hope that it would still be able to take you to the nearest gas station after you're finished brooding. Even after being here for what felt like days, you still hadn't been able to figure yourself out. What are you really even freaking out over? What is your problem? Your dilemma? 

Komaeda Nagito. 

About a couple months ago, you two had met in the library on not the most friendly terms. However over time, you somehow managed to look past it and you two kept coming back to that same spot in the same library. 

"..Pride and Prejudice.." The ivory boy mumbled, sitting beside you as he leaned against his elbow on the table. "..You've truly never read this before? It's such a famous piece of literary artwork. One of the most famous actually.. Makes sense that someone so painfully average like you wouldn't know that."

He talks so much to you for someone who despises the very precense of the Reserve Course. "...Shut up, of course I knew about it- I just never found it interesting so I blew off reading it." 

You both scoff at eachother before sliding the book into the middle of the table and read it together, pointing out small bits of the book every now and then. 

"..I'd never fall for someone like Mr Darcy.. So cold.. so cruel. Even for money- seriously! That'd fuck me up." 

"..Well- I'd assume you wouldn't fall for someone like him- he's a boy." He let out a small laugh through his sentence- pushing you out of your thoughts. You couldn't believe you let that slip. 

"Right- nah, I'm just saying y'know. If I was a girl and liked guys, I'd never choose him." A slight awkward silence ensues after that awful slip up from you. It's only after a whole chapter does Komaeda begin to speak again.

"Would you though?"

"Would I what?"

"..You know, date a boy?"

You fiddle with the corner of the pages, sucking on your teeth before breathing out a small string of words. "..Relationships are tiring." Is all you can pull out from your mouth before going back to reading. It was an nice way of getting out of the topic. You could've easily said no- but for some reason you remained vague. 

"..That's not answering my question. Are you seriously that incompetent?" He sneered before leaning his hand on the seat of your chair, his head lulled to the side of both of you. "..Don't answer that actually, I know you are that incompetent." It was hard to tell in that moment if Komaeda was against the idea of homosexuality or not- he was always mixed signals. You open your mouth to say something; but now he was much closer, you could feel that sultry voice vibrate down your ears, and so you close your mouth and stay silent. 

"..You've gone quiet. Are you truly that stumped by my question?" He hummed, chills now digging it's needles into your back. "..I suppose it is quite the hard question, even for an Ultimate it could stump them." That's a weird thing to say, especially from the suspicious implications. 

"..You talk too much. Just keep reading." Is all you breathe out before you flip the page over and Komaeda shifts back away from your chair. The moment ends.

But it wasn't even the fact that he was in a much higher position than you- a high standing pedestal than your excuse for being a "symbol".  Perhaps you're over reacting about the wrong thing. Komaeda had a reputation for despising all reserve course's to the core. A more filthier piece of trash than him (if that was possible in his mind.) The purest scum of the Earth. You should be running for life, and you would if you were in the most rational state of mind. But you're quite obviously not. He's going to eat you alive but god you wonder how it'd be if you did so first. Laying back onto the hood of your car, you shriek out a loud groan and grip at your hair in frustration. You don't know exactly why you're so stressed over him, someone who's merely a friend. Barely, actually- more like civil accquantainces who had common interests and that was all. He despised being seen in public with you; if his classmates ever walked into the library whilst you two were there, he would quickly but quietly shuffle to another nearby table. 

In the earlier months of your accquantainceship, you would've scoffed and insulted him after they left. But now, you simply look at them crowd around as they ask how Komaeda is before leaving. You felt like a frog amongst swans, something so dirty and unfitting to be with.

Silver glints of the moon fracture over the tides, the serene scenery surrounding you was ethereal, a song for the eyes. You've been here for about 5 hours, sitting in different positions all whilst rubbing your temples or banging your forehead onto your knees. It's getting harder to ignore this, to ignore him. Why are you here? You want to go home, but it feels like an obligation to stay and sort this out before you begin to lose your head. You'd honestly rather cut off your wings so that you can not fly into the sun but rather fall into the mighty blue beasts teeth than confront these ghastly thoughts of yours. Komaeda, Komaeda, Komaeda. You've never felt more stress over a name such as his. You should be cast to the wolves for these thoughts. But what thoughts? Your head does not contain blasphemies and your mouth has not committed any heresies. So why are you so troubled? Perhaps you do know, but if you even dare mention it you'd finally commit said heresy you so very feared. You can't say it. You won't dare think it. You refuse. You won't do it. 

But you can't stop- you've already done it. You imagine how perfectly your arms would fit around him, how easily your hands could mold together and your eyes would easily find the pearls of the deep dark in eachother's irises, how wonderfully your lips would fit like a jigsaw. 

You can't remember exactly how you became enamoured by him. Perhaps it was when you accidentally let your stare linger longer than you intended. That day, Komaeda brought in a book that you could only find via an online bookstore due to it being quite a strange piece. Turns out, he was absolutely infatuated with it, and rambling about it came easy to him.

"..The Book Of Disquiet is quite the interesting read- it was never finished, but it's easy to get how the book ends. The heteronyms that Pessoa created for it was intentionally made to be...boring. I've done alot of research on him- he really delves into the whole "Terrible Paradox of Self Awareness" topic- noting to the reader that writing and doing and saying is all completely meaningless yet continues to write, do and say things." The Lucky Student trails off, flicking back and forth to pages of his notes page he did on the portugese author, explaining and going through each little bit. 

You absorbed it in like a sponge- his voice was calming and his eyes were soft as he looked at the pages like it was a puppy. His hair was falling perfectly down his face and spilling onto his shoulders, his eyes shining with a glimmer you've only seen in the stars. Komaeda's beauty could never be put to justice through photos. Not even paintings could immortalise his visage- a night sky within his eyes and the sun within his soul. It was as if you were in an trance. There was a subtle breeze in your imagination as you stared- that was until you realised that was because Komaeda was waving his hand infront of your face.

"..Hello? Are you alright?" That was a first. He doesn't ask that often. "..You seem pretty out of it. It is quite warm in here.."

"..No. I'm fine. Keep reading." And the moment ends.

In your dreams, you described it as simple infatuation, but in reality it was not as airy and feather-light as that. In your nightmares, you described it as a deadly desire, but in reality it was not as short-lived and capricious as that. But to call it anything else in your own conscious mind? You'd rather be ripped from your organs.

But you don't want to keep thinking about it. You don't think you can do it any longer in this swealtering heat of the night. It was humid, but it barely felt like any air was being circulated around the Earth. One last sigh leaves you before you get up from your indented place in the sand and wander off to your car. It was an alright car, not the best and it was used by alot of past owners but it was the best you could get at your age. You pull out your keys and make sure to shake and jingle them a bit just so you can hear the clacking against them, hoping it'd snap you out of whatever this was. Opening the door and slamming it once you're inside, you push your keys into the engine and twist. Your car moans and groans several times, and you could've sworn you felt your heart shoot down to your gut. Your repeated attempts to twist your keys and turn on the engine are almost ridiculed by the curdling screams of the exhaust. Oh, come on. How did this happen? You take great care of your car! Not a single scrape or dent or even a mere collision with any other vehicle. What happened?

Ah. Right. Your tank- it was only one fifth full. Shit.

Well, now you're stuck at this beach with more rocks than grains of sand. His luck is rubbing off on you. Great, there you go again! You always just have to find some way to mention his name even in the most dire situations. What's wrong with you? A loud bang clanks against the hood of your car from the hail that was now pouring down, mocking you as you replicate those bangs onto your steering wheel from your forehead. Atleast you had shelter from it. But you had no money to call a repair work, and almost all of your friends were out for tonight. Oh, but who else is in your contacts that IS free? 

Komaeda Nagito.

You fully groan at his name, your hands dragging the skin of your face up and down. Do you really have to resort to this? It's either him or you stay in the hail with your car as shelter on a school night. God, and who knows how many assignments you probably have to do right now? You feel like crying. You end up crying. 

Hot blobs of salt run down your cheeks as you feel the overwhelming sense of dread. Nothing was going right for you today, nothing at all. Your bones feel heavy in your skin, your eyes straining to keep up with the amount of tears leaving you. Your car has no gas, it's hailing loudly and you're caught between the tides of pain and rapture as you stare at his contact on your phone. You hadn't even figured out the reason of why you are here. Maybe that's for the best. It'd be more awkward to face Komaeda if you had figured it out- but does that mean you most likely know what's wrong with you then? Are you in denial?

"...Hello?" His gravally voice seeps through the audio output.

"..Komaeda, can you come pick me up? My car broke down at the beach- I can't get home and I have no money to call repair services." Your voice is cracking and crumbling as you call, your hands occupied with either your phone or holding the wheel. All you hear is a groan that interrupts a 5 second silence. "..Please- after this I'll never call again, I promise-" All you hear is a beep. He hung up. What did you expect? Why would he ever come and help someone as pathetic as you?

You fall back into your seat, hands dragging your face again before you grumble to yourself under your breath. Why do you care so much? His attention burns your skin and his precense warms your nerves. You could practically melt at the thought of him. This isn't right. It just isn't right at all. It's disgusting, it should be illegal to feel like this for another man. You feel ashamed like you've committed murder. Being burnt at the stake would be a worthy punishment for this. Oh but the more you deny and refute this, refute him, the more you can't push these feelings down. It's all you're thinking about. 

So now you're stuck here and potentially broken what little bit of friendship you had with Komaeda. Great work. Aren't you just the most intelligent man alive? 

You huff it out in large and saltier blobs of misery, soon letting your exhausted eyes fall heavy. You're sitting in your car, hail now slowing as you drift off into probably one of the modt uncomfortable positions possible. In your dreams you envision a timeline where perhaps one of you were a girl instead, and loving eachother wouldn't need to be so compromising. Or perhaps a timeline where loving another boy wouldn't be compromising.

Soon enough, you're awoken by loud thuds and thumps against your window, you can barely make out what it is banging your window due to how much more the rain was pouring down now. A loud groan leaves your throat before you roll down the window, and your eyes finally open fully. That frizzy tuff of white cotten, now flattened by the rain is all too familiar for you. You stare at it. But not at his eyes.

Komaeda Nagito.

You both stare at eachother, stoic yet painful words were folded into the corners of eachother's eyes. It's been about 10 seconds you've been staring at eachother through your car window.

"..."

"..You truly are so incompetent, aren't you?"

What?

"..Driving all this way and you didn't even think to fill up your tank. On top of that, you call me of all people to solve this pathetic problem of yours and you're not even going to say a thing to me when I arrive."

He came here? But he hung up?

"..Are you blind? Are you deaf? Hello??" Komaeda sneers at you, grimacing at you. It's hard to see eachother through the rain.

"...you came."

He shuts up at that, and despite the rain, you can see his eyes soften. "..I did. You called me, you sounded.. stressed. So I came." But why?

"..I don't why I did. It was like I needed to. It doesn't make sense." He sighs before looking away. You narrow your eyes slightly, softening them too before you get out of your car and closing the door behind you, leaning against the soaked metal.

At this point, the only source of light came from your car lights, blaring from it's home to display all the droplets of rain that passed it. "..What happened?" His voice was quieter than quiet. Despite the rain being louder, you could only hear him. "..You don't usually go out so late. I thought your friends invited you out?"

"..You paid attention to that?" He nods. "I just needed to figure something out." He hums.

"..Well, have you?" You shake your head.

"..Maybe I can help. What is it you're troubling yourself with?" You huff.

Both of you wander over to the hood of your car, sitting ontop of it. "I can't tell you. I'd honestly rather die than do so. You'd rip me to shreds."

"What? Are you striving to become an Ultimate or something? It couldn't be that bad." You scoff and lay back onto your hood.

"..Remember that conversation we had a couple weeks back? You asked if I'd ever.."

"..Date a boy?" You nod. "..What about it?"

It takes a lot of courage to continue this conversation. "..What would.. what do you- think? Would you ever date one?" He shrugs. "Probably. Why? What does this have to do with anything?" How dense can someone be?

But that gives you a little something. He might. 

"..Put two and two together you fucking moron." At this point, you're getting tired of running away. Your feet are calloused with how much you've ran away from this problem of yours. You need to decide it now.

You glance over at his face and you see no malice in his visage. Perhaps he isn't here to taunt you. He's probably trying to understand what you meant. "..Ah." Is all he says before laying back onto the hood with you. "Whatever you decide for that, despite how..painfully filthy you are... I'll support you." 

He heaves alot during that sentence. Maybe it's due to the rain or maybe it just took too much out of him to try to be nice to you. You both look up, squinting through the rain. "..How long have you been out here?"

"..About.. 8 hours..? I don't know. I needed to find some space." Komaeda hums in agreement as he combs his strands back. "Fair enough. But you might catch a cold." That's new. "Since when did you care, Main course?" You could just about hear the small chuckle under his breath.

This all felt like some strange peace treaty between you two. It was no longer insults but rather it felt like light-hearted jokes. Like you two had known each other forever. "Would you rather me let you out to die from pneumonia?" You laugh and shake your head. Your laughter simmers down and you both look at each other, you hadn't looked at him for the entire time. Looking at him almost made you sob. You don't know if you can do this.

"So... what made you start... thinking of this whole liking boys thing?" He asks with a careful tone, talking to you at this moment felt like a delicate activity. You can't tell him that. You just shrug.

"So you pull me all the way out here, just so we can lay in the rain on your hood?" You smile at that but you shake your head. "..I don't think I can tell you why. I don't want to ruin this." You gesture to the little space between you two. "It's taken me so long to just say I potentially like...boys. I feel like I should be atoning for this."

"No shame in liking guys. You don't need to tell me why then," You thank him with your silence, ", Any guys you like right now though?" You slap his shoulder and he puts both hands up in the air with a smirk. "What? It's a genuine question!"

Eyes roll as you simply return to looking up at the crying sky. "Perhaps. Do you?" He shrugs. "Perhaps."

"You can't just copy my answer. Give me something here."

"You're not giving me a thing here. How about we both give small hints?" It's a good idea and so you agree. "Hair colour?" God that is the worst question. He'll easily tell who it is then. "That's way too obvious!" A small huff leaves him before he goes back to thinking. "Hm, fine.. which course is he in?"

The thing is, you don't know anyone else in the Main Course other than him and Kazuichi. He was your neighbour for a long time and you two grew close as friends. But he didn't know that, did he? "..Main Course." You awaited a scoff or a remark of how you don't deserve to love anyone from the Main Course, but he just hums.

"..Would you like to know mine?"

It almost takes your entire being to not say yes so eagerly. He clicks his tongue in amusement.

"..Reserve."

There's a strange casual coolness in his voice, as if he hadn't just said something that completely shook you to your roots and make you question everything about him. This contradicted everything about him! What kind of weird enemies-to-lovers experience did he have?

"..Shocking, I know. Seems like we're in similar situations, unfortunately." Komaeda remarks, however he has a smirk on his face that gives you a bad feeling that he knows. Maybe you should give in to defeat.

"..Don't you hate us? Why would you ever want to love one of us?" Your inquiry is the one to make him finally scoff. "..I never wanted to. But I had to accept it soon enough, I have enough things to eat away at me. I didn't need another." It felt slightly insulting but you got it. It was exactly like you and this gay situation. "..That's...fair enough. When did you finally accept it?"

"..About.. A month or two ago? I had let it waste away at me for about.. 4 months." 6 months. You've known him for 6 months.

"..Wow.. You've been in love with some dude ever since the day we met and you didn't bother to tell me? I'm honestly betrayed, Komaeda."

"Well I didn't exactly see you as a friend back then, did I?" That caught you off guard. "So that means you see me as a friend now?"

"Perhaps." That leaves a smile on your face.

You two stay out on your hood for another 5 minutes. It's getting cold. It's very late.

"..You figured it out yet?" His voice sounds less sultry, now it was more careful and smooth. You shrug.

Over the course of 5 minutes, 2 things went through your head. Should you just give in to defeat and tell him and potentially ruin everything or should you just say no and just get him to drive you two home and send a service for your car later? The latter sounds tempting. It's such a cursed mindset- it felt like a fruit from a poisonous tree. Your thoughts were fickle between the decisions of defeat and stubborness. All your troubling thoughts brutally clawed at your face and brain, infecting it like your brain was filled with scorpions. Your tolerance was beginning to simmer and sizzle. Perhaps you thought about it too much. Maybe you're overthinking. What if you gave in to defeat and he rejects you? It was all for nothing. But he doesn't owe you that affection just because you came out to him within the same day. Why can't you decide? Why won't you hurry up? Why, why, why?-

Your thoughts silence. His lemon grass eyelashes fluttered at you like rare butterflies in the spring morning. You take one more breath.

"I like a boy from the Main Course. I can.. confirm that now. I'm not the most.. okay with that fact but.. I can't let it eat me away aswell." You smile weakly at him. Looking into Komaeda's eyes, you can see glints of a smile in them. He seems proud of you.

"But I... uh.. don't think he likes me back." He cocks his head slightly to the side. "Why do you say that?" This might also give it away.

But your rational reasoning had been long gone from your brain ever since you started crying and screaming on a beach in a broken down car.

"He doesn't exactly like Reserves." You cover your mouth to giggle as if you just told someone the dumbest secret ever. His eyebrow raises at you. "Oh?"

Oh.

Shit.

"..Aha.. Ahhhhh... Yeah. What about your Reserve Crush? Does he like Main Courses?"

"No. He always scoffs when he sees me."

"I would too." You already do.

"Why wouldn't he like you though? Despite how painfully average you are... You're quite stunning in the moonlight. And somehow you're able to make me laugh everyday." You are quite the comedic genius.

"Because I'm no Ultimate. I've heard the way he talks about the Ultimates and I'm never going to live up to that. I wish I could. I always wonder if I'm ever going to."

"Maybe he's let go of that aspect of hatred from you." He suggests, looking over at you. "..Maybe he sees you as something even more." It's your turn to raise an eyebrow. "..How would you know that?"

"My luck is that of the stars. I might be right." Komaeda winks before staring deeper into your eyes.

"My troubles lie exactly with if he'll like me or not right now, and supposedly your luck will help me?" He shrugs. You two have become ever so much more closer on your hood, sitting upright. You two haven't made this long of eye-contact ever. You two haven't made this type of contact ever either. He's beautiful. You can feel his cold breath against you.

Over the course of your time together on your car with raining weeping onto you, Komaeda came closer for warmth and you came closer to try and hear his small tone. It's only become more apparent of how little space there was between you two. You have a strange feeling on where this is going with how close he is becoming.

"Are you scared?" You nod slightly. He probably noticed your eyes shake between his lips and the surroundings and back to his eyes.

"I feel like someone will see us."

"Through the car lights? I doubt it. Do you still want to deny yourself this? I can stop if you want." He backs away slightly as a demonstration, but you catch his shoulders and shake your head. "...There is nothing to run from. I'm not scared. I only have one more worry on my mind but... it's nothing you should be concerned about." And he smiles.

"Would you..let me answer your troubles?"

You're unsure of what he means, however you aren't given much of a chance to question him. You feel a cold pair of lips press against yours, and you feel complete. You two complete eachother, knocking their air out of eachothers lungs as you hold hands and kiss on your hood. "..Don't let them see my face." Is all you mumble through your muffled lips as you two, push eachother up against the car, holding eachother like life lines. "I don't know how to be without you." Komaeda mumbles back, digging his nimble hands into your hair.

It feels like fireworks as you finally break away and look at eachother. Your finger tips slowly trace to his knuckles, holding his hand tightly as you two continue to watch the tides rise and retreat.

"...Would.. would you.. like to go back now?" You nod. You two get off of the vehicle and enter Komaeda's. You leave with smiles and blushes between a silence.

The rain stopped at that very second.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Light on the Darkside - Chapter Four.

Thanks to the handful of people giving this their time, I really appreciate you so much for that :) To say thank you, here, have another update. You might as well while I'm making such progress with the writing.

Oh, and people might notice if they haven't interacted with the story as yet, I will have bumped your name off the taglist. Nothing personal at all. If you don't want to read then that's fine, I don't want to bother anyone who isn't feeling it. If however, you are feeling it and are yet to reach out with your thoughts, please don't be shy. I'd love to hear what you think!

Previous chapters - One Two Three

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 3,841

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

“So like, how painful are they?” 

James sniffed, looking down at one of his half sleeves of tattoos Ella was examining carefully. He thanked his stars he hadn’t made his way to two full sleeves yet, else his recent brush with death would have ruined the artwork. Not that he one hundred percent fully committed to living as yet, but he was getting there.  

Medication plus his new friendship with the pretty anorexic were definitely getting him there.  

“They hurt, but I like the pain so it don’t bother me,” he spoke, turning his arm when she moved it to take a look at the other side. “Kinda wanted to punch someone when it got close to my armpit, though. You can be the hardest person on earth but yeah, it gets really fucking prickly there, innit.”  

She marvelled at the detail, crows flying across a grey sky, tombstones, a shrouded figure of the grim reaper, all blending into spooky trees and skulls. Upon the other arm, he had various runes, the faces of Viking warriors, and something called a Valkyrie, which he explained were the beings who took the battle slain to Valhalla.  

His intent was one Nordic arm, one spooky arm as he coined it, telling her more of his ideas for the next portion he’d have in getting them finished. He had to wait a while, for the scar tissue to heal.  

“They can’t tattoo over it while it’s still fresh,” he explained, Ella running her hand down to his forearm without thinking, her fingertips stroking the red scar. God, it was horrific to look at, to imagine his pain. Both mentally and physically.  

Recovering herself, knowing how cagey he was over his suicide attempt, she quickly moved her hands. “Sorry,” she blushed, shaking her head rapidly. “Not for me to touch.” 

He blinked slowly, a very seductive play of long, inky lashes, whether he meant it to be or not. “It’s alright, I don’t mind. Not when it’s you, at least, innit.” 

Her heart skipped a little, dropping her gaze, playing with one of the shoelaces on her red Converse. Despite her being quite confident with men, she got a little shy sometimes, when he said things like that. Mostly, she felt pretty special, since he made no real attempt to be friendly with anyone else. Friendly... and flirty on occasion. Whatever it was, she enjoyed it. Well, sometimes... 

“You’re so bleedin’ sneaky.” 

“I’m not. Just a clever bastard, innit?” 

He had her there, because he was. James knew how to play a game and win. Ella wagered he’d likely be unbeatable at chess.  

“Come on,” he continued, shaking the bag of Smith’s crisps he held in his hand. “Eat another one and I’ll tell you.” 

It was blatant bribery and likely a huge no-no in every textbook on how to deal with an anorexic, but to his credit, it was working. If she ate a crisp, he answered a question about himself. He hadn’t been hugely forthcoming so far during their chats, of which they’d had quite a few of since their first encounter just over two weeks before.  

Somehow, though, he felt great calmness when he was around her. Ella was sweet, cool and funny, but incredibly troubled. It took his mind of his own situation, too, trying to help her with hers. A few crisps here, a fruit pastel or two there, it all helped her become less terrified of what food would do to her. They had quite a tight little bond with one another forming.  

Eyeing the packet, she tucked her hair behind her ears, peering in.  

“Stop looking for the small ones and take that big bastard off the top, Ella.” Yep, he’d sussed what she was doing.  

“Fine.” Pulling it from the packet, she popped it into her mouth, biting half of it away and crunching through it, looking uncomfortable. “So, come on. Spill.”  

“Finish it first.” 

God, he was so demanding! “And you call the orderlies the gestapo!” she exclaimed through a mouthful of potato, swallowing down the half crisp and putting the rest into her mouth, showing her empty hands to him. “There. It’s gone. Now talk.” 

“Bossy twat.” He winked, and she felt her stomach roll pleasantly, making an impatient winding motion with her hand. “Alright, just give me a minute. Privileged info, this is. Ain’t ever told anyone before, innit. Other than the commander in chief.” He meant Dr. Beaumont, the senior clinician of their wing.  

“So, we’d been out for a few pints after rehearsal and came back to ours, just me, Steve and Snedders. I was feeling alright to begin with, but then when Steve was talking about the new album we were meant to be recording about now, and the subsequent tour we’ll be doing at some point to promote it, I just started feeling... I dunno. Top grade depressed.  

“I always feel shit beneath it all, but this was next level. I was sitting there nodding, saying all the right stuff at the right time, but inside I just knew I didn’t want to even be there any longer, let alone think about a future I had no plans on living. And I’m there, lying to my best mate and all that, and I just thought nah. Fuck this. They deserve better, and I’ve fucking... I’ve fucking had enough, you know? 

“So, while they were busy talking amongst themselves, I grabbed a knife from the kitchen, picked up my tequila and went to the bathroom. Went in the cupboard, got out all the painkillers I’d been stockpiling for that very reason, took the lot and just sat there for a bit. Fucking worked way faster than I thought they would, innit, so I cut my arms open and then just lay there until it went black. If Steve hadn’t needed a piss exactly when he did, I’d have been dead.” 

The way he recounted that, so matter of fact, with such coolness, it truly made Ella feel a little uneasy. He was so comfortable with the idea of death, whereas for her, even though she knew it was where she was heading if she didn’t eat, the idea of dying terrified her. 

She could only think of two words to accurately reply to that. “Bleedin’ hell.” 

“Fair comment.” 

“Was it scary, to feel yourself slip so close to dying, or didn’t you know?” 

A wry smile was returned, the crisp packet proffered forth. She rolled her eyes, taking one, James winking. “Nah, not at all. Not for me at least, because it’s what I wanted. I knew, too.”  

Another crisp was taken, looking out from beneath her lashes at him. “What was it like?” 

“Dark and quiet.”  

Her mouth twitched. “Ahh. Perfect for a morose, church burner such as yourself then.” 

“Cheeky fucking shit, Ella,” he spoke, laughing despite himself. She had to do it, though. Not because she cared little for his feelings, but because she actually cared for them a good deal. Ella was getting used to noting when he was on the verge of glumness, and she knew how to pull him back from it. Make him laugh.  

Reaching into the bag, she took another crisp. It was actually becoming less scary, although her stomach was beginning to protest, her mind counting the calories. Roughly forty-two so far. With James sitting right there opposite her, mirroring her cross-legged position on the sofa, it was a little less frightening. It was like the food didn’t have its usual power, because he was stronger than the hold it had upon her.  

If her food trauma was a person, she could bet her last pound that he would grab it by the neck and throw it through a window for her. He seemed very much the type.  

“Right, so I’ve borne what little is left of my soul to you, if there’s anything left at all. It’s your turn now,” he began, Ella crinkling her nose at him.  

“Everyone has a soul, James,” she spoke gently, “no matter how many misdeeds you think chip away at it.” 

Again, she was so bloody profound. “Nah, think I’ve got some kind of demon where mine used to be. Or at the very least, an agitated cat.” The feline hiss he accompanied his words with had her chuckling softly. “Tell me, then. Where did it all start, you restricting your food and all that?” 

Ohhh, here it was. The real talk for her had descended. It was only fair that she shared it with him, especially after hearing something so deeply person from him. Still, though. Scary. Very scary. “I was bullied at school. When I was in year ten, some of the other girls started calling me fat and teasing me for having a chubby face, and it gave me the push to lose a bit of weight. I probably needed to, I was a size fourteen after all.” 

God, it was ingrained deep with her, James shaking his head. “A size fourteen ain’t big, Ella. No where near it.”  

“Well, I thought it was and so did they.” She likely hadn’t at all, but what bullies taunted people with stuck eventually, if repeated often enough. He knew that from his own experiences. “Anyway, so like, I decided to lose a stone. Ended up losing two, went down to a size eight and I loved it, so I just carried on going. Of course, I still got picked on and no matter what I did, they wouldn't leave me alone. I couldn’t control it, but my weight and my eating, I could control that. 

“I kept on restricting and losing weight, and it made me feel so good about myself, the smaller I became. I got really good at being sneaky, throwing food away, going to puke after meals, until I passed out when I was at college one day from exhaustion. Malnutrition, the doctor said, from a severe case of anorexia nervosa. That’s when I first came here, back when I was eighteen. I put weight on, came home, and then it all started again.  

“I got a little flat above the place I used to work at, so nobody could monitor what I was eating, and I was happy. My weight dropped again, much lower than before. I managed to maintain it, and I was happy. Then my body gave out on me and I suffered a small heart attack. I got taken to hospital and then straight here. Been in ever since.”  

Without even thinking, his hand went to hers, grasping her dainty fingers. “You had a fucking heart attack? Shitting hell. How small were you, when that happened?” 

“Five stone three.” 

His eyes almost fell out of his head. “For fucks sake, Ella! I weighed that when I was ten!” 

It was the same horrified reaction she had received time and time again, yet five stone three felt great for her. She felt thin and perfect, pretty and little. Now, at a stone heavier, the incessant voice in her head that decreed she was fat and ugly had reared up again considerably with its noise.  

“Made me feel happy, comfortable. I feel like a big, fat beast right now. They want me at eight stone before I leave, and it’s frightening the shit out of me, James. I know I’ve got a problem, I know I’ll die if don’t start eating properly all the time, but it’s so scary! I get watched at every meal to make sure I eat enough, and it makes me feel sick, and like I’m in a bleedin’ zoo! Then, like, I can’t even go to the loo unless Tracy or Chris are watching me to make sure I don’t make myself sick! It’s fucking torture!” 

Her rapid spiral took him by surprise, not really knowing how to handle what he was witnessing as she began to cry softly. There was one thing he could empathise with, though. “I know how it is being watched all the fucking time. Shitting hell, I can’t even shave unsupervised, or take a bath alone in case I try and drown myself. Always got Gus or Tony watching me. You’re right. It is like being in a fucking zoo, innit.”  

“It’s horrible!” she gasped, hiding her face in her hands and sobbing. 

“Oi, come on,” he told her softly, gently grasping her arms and pulling her close. If there was one thing he did well, apparently it was hugs. His sister and many ex-girlfriends had told him that, which was something Ella would have instantly agreed with as she was wrapped in the strong embrace of slender muscles. “Don’t cry, babe. You’re alright.”  

All she did was cry more at that, shuffling closer, climbing astride him and burying her face against his neck, wanting to try and drink up a little of his strength. God, he smelled gorgeous, and she felt so safe and warm, there in his arms.  

He let her sob out her distress, hidden beneath the dark curtain of his hair, hand rubbing softly at her back. Bone protrusion, her spine jutting out almost aggressively. Christ. He couldn’t understand how she thought she was fat. The poor little thing was literally a bag of bones. His eyes flitted across the room, noticing Gus watching the interaction. If it was Tony, he’d have told them to separate, but Gus was a lot softer. He understood that in that moment, all Ella wanted was to be comforted, so let the interaction continue under his watchful eye.  

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed, sitting up and drying her eyes. “I’m such a silly twat, crying all over you.” 

“Shut the fuck up, that’s my little mate you’re badmouthing,” he spoke, smiling. “I don’t mind being cried on, just don’t tell nobody. Got a street cred to think of, innit.” 

That had the desired effect, Ella laughing, shuffling off his lap. “Thank you. You give mint hugs, by the way. And you smell really good.” 

“Ahhh, the girls can never resist a bit of Lynx Atlantis.”  

More giggles followed as she composed herself, drying her eyes. “You’re lovely.” 

He snorted. “I’m a clinically depressed fuckwit, but thanks.”  

“James?” Tony’s voice then called from the door, “visiting time.”  

“Aww,” Ella grumbled, poking out her bottom lip. God, how hard her cuteness hit him at witnessing it. “Don’t want you to go, but enjoy your visit. I’ll see you later, yeah?” 

“Yeah, in a bit, babe.” 

How her heart thundered happily whenever he called her babe. Since the visits were all done on alphabetical rotation, it wasn’t her day on that morning, hers falling the day before. Sitting there alone on the sofa, she reached for a magazine, nothing else to do with her time since Andrea was also likely on the way to her own visit, and no Tiff any longer since her release two days before.  

While Ella sat and read, James walked into the visiting room to see a very welcome face. One he hadn’t actually seen in almost three months. Standing, he opened his arms, giving the man who’d scared him half to death a massive hug and slap on the back. 

“What the fuck are ya?” Steve spoke, clasping him tightly. “Fucking dickhead, ain’t ya?” A little quiver rocked his voice, remembering it. He wasn’t made of stone, and it had shaken him severely to see his best mate there on the bathroom floor lying in a pool of his own blood and vomit.  

“Not as much as you are.” 

“Sorry, a dickhead says what?” he spoke rapidly, James not about to be caught out by offering that very word to him. “Don’t ever, ever fucking do that to me again, sunshine. Thought I was about to shit a lung, finding you like that. And I had to fix the bathroom door. With Snedders of all people.”  

James snort laughed, imagining it. “How many times did he smack his own thumb with a hammer?” 

“None!” Steve yelled, holding up his own. “Bloody hit mine about seventy-two times, the gormless prick!” Taking a seat, he pulled out his cigarettes, offering one.  

“Can’t smoke in here, man.” 

Steve’s eyes widened. “What?” Looking over at the orderly, he raised his hands high in exclamation. “Oi, what the fuck’s with the no smoking?” 

“Moor Acres is a smoke-free facility,” he spoke, his tone matter of fact.  

“Fuck’s sake, I bet even Hitler let ‘em light up in the bunker,” he snorted, turning to James. “No wonder you call ‘em the gestapo.” He then pondered for a second. “Can we go outside?” 

“You can, but your mate has to stay put. James doesn’t have grounds privileges yet.”  

Steve’s eyeroll could detach a retina. “How come they won’t let you out?” 

“I keep playing up.” 

“What ya been doing now? Twatting the orderlies again? Your old man told me about that, fucking pissed myself, mate!” he chuckled, his dirty giggle filling the room. It attracted a certain someone’s attention from a couple of table’s back. 

“That’s a filthy laugh,” Andrea chimed, looking him up and down approvingly. “Wow, you’re a right babe, you are! You single?” 

“I am,” he confirmed, leaning to James quickly. “Ain’t a murderer or nothing, is she?” 

“Sex addict.” 

“Jackpot! Hey honey, wanna come get on me, yeah? I’ve got my car here; I can take you for a quick bang in the back?” He was only half joking, not expecting for Andrea to quickly glance at the orderlies before flying from her seat, running to their table and sitting astride him.  

“I would do you right here,” she purred, pressing her mouth to his rapidly. It took him by surprise, but what was he meant to do? Wrap his arms around her and kiss her back was exactly what he chose, Tony and Andy moving at speed to pull her away.  

“Come on, Andrea. That’s enough now,” he spoke, pulling her from Steve’s lap, who shared a hissed laugh and a fist bump with his friend.

“Nah, I just got set on by a legit nympho. Quality!” he announced, Tony not seeing the funny side.  

“Please, no winding up the patients while you are visiting.”  

Steve gave him a little salute, still entertained as hell, winking at Andrea as she was escorted back to her seat. “Any more birds like her in here?” 

“None that I know of,” James replied, turning to look at Andrea and laugh. “You little demon.” 

“Think I’ve got a new type, James. Black metal guys!” she chirped, Tony reprimanding her again. 

Steve couldn’t help himself. “Once you go black, you never go back, honey. Counts for us metal fellas an’ all!”  

“Calm it down, visitors and residents, or you’re all back to your rooms for the afternoon!” Andy boomed, pointing between the tables, Steve and James still snickering.  

“My Monday is looking up. Come and see my best mate in the nut house and get a cute little redhead shove her tongue down my throat. Might do something crazy so I get to come stay here an’ all!”  

“Don’t even joke, mate,” James began, “cos’ trust me, you don’t wanna end up here, innit. It’s total bullshit.” 

“Yeah, one batshit fella in the band is more than enough,” he quipped, scratching his short beard. 

“So, we’re firing Snedders, then?” 

Steve laughed, clapping his hands together. “Ahhh, Snedders. He’s a good lad underneath the fact he’s an utter fucking flid. He’s staying at ours at the moment. Kerry’s kicked him out. Again.” 

“Ain’t in my room, is he?” James barked, eyebrows arching. “I don’t trust that he’s not got an entire flea circus in them rank dreadlocks.” 

“Nah mate, he’s on the sofa. Might buy him a flea collar on my way back, actually.”  

It was a tonic for him, to have a visit from his friend, the hour passing much too quickly, James feeling tired so heading back to his room for a quick nap before dinner. Afterwards, he made his way down to the common room, finding pretty quickly upon nearing the doorway that someone was still having a much worse day than he was.  

“Where’s James? I just want to see him! No, stop touching me, get off!” 

“In his room, I think. Come on now, Ella. Calm down and come back to the dining room,” Chris, one of the female orderlies attempted to encourage her with, her tone gentle but sadly falling on very deaf, very distressed ears. Turning to see him enter, Ella ran, sobbing, flinging herself into his open arms, James lifting her until she was clung on around him like a tiny koala grasping onto a tall, strong tree.  

“What’s the matter, little?”  

“They’re trying to make me eat potatoes!” Uh oh. One of her extreme verboten foods. Potatoes, pasta, bread, rice, cake, those were the ones that upset her the most when she was made to eat them. He’d been surprised he’d had any luck at all with getting to eat crisps. “I ate all the vegetables, and some chicken, but because I didn’t finish the mash, they want me back there until I do! I feel sick, it’s minging with all the butter they add!” 

Chris went to intervene and separate them, stopped by Gus who touched a soft hand to her arm. “Just give him a minute. You won’t believe how good he is with her.”  

“Alright, that’s a scary food. I know, I know,” he soothed her with, her frail little body clinging to his in a death grip. Still, it was like carrying no weight at all. “Listen, if I come with you, will you eat them then? For every mouthful of mash, I’ll tell you a funny story from when the band went on tour last. Believe me, I’ve got a stack of ‘em. How about that? You can take your time as well.” 

Her thundering heart began to slow, her breathing steadying itself. Emerging from beneath his hair, she looked at Chris. “I’ll do it if James comes with me.”  

She shook her head. “No men allowed in the female dining room, Ella. But, if you promise me that you’ll eat, I’m happy to bring your plate in here.” It was mainly for the benefit of the eating disorder patients, why the dining rooms were not mixed spaces, many of the women not comfortable to eat around men, feeling they’d be judged. It was also a lot to manage, especially when tantrums flared, just like they had with Ella not ten minutes before.  

With her half-finished plate brought to her, Ella settled at one of the small tables, James sat adjacent. “Right, get that mash down your neck and you can hear all about the time Snedders and I had to leg it halfway across the red light district in Amsterdam from the police.” 

If there was ever an incentive to eat a scary food, hearing such a tale was certainly it. 

[iheartchv]

hiiiii idk If you're doing them still but can I get a cod match up? 🫧

Im 21, 5ft3, have bluey/green eyes, im really pale with lots of freckles and I have like a deep ginger/auburn hair color with bleached front strands (they were gonna be bangs but I got nervous about full blown bangs lol).

I typically wear lots of black and alternative styled clothing, but I'm also a huge fan of big sweaters and cozy clothes. I have a lot of little tattoos and several piercings (mainly nostril and navel since I took several others out cause they irritated my skin so much 🫠)

Im a florist at the moment but I'd love to become a tattoo artist so I'm kind of in limbo but outside of work I do art and love painting! I'm also a big fan of nu metal/alternative style music and use most of my paychecks to go to concerts or festivals. If I'm not at a show I'm probably curled up in bed like an oversized housecat, I love a good nap or just to laze around a bit

Thank u again!! I love ur work 💜

-🫧

🤔 I'll pair you with...

Simon "Ghost" Riley 💀

I think Ghost would fall for you

He sees you from time to time

It's almost like a routine for him whenever he's off duty

He sometimes watches you enter/leave the flower shop you work at

Other times he sees you shopping

And you see him as well

Though you didn't seem to mind it

It felt... more safe with him around

He wasn't someone you'd forget

Who else would walk around with a skull face mask/balaclava?

And though you were curious as to why he wore it, it wasnt your business

You both would exchange small waves or some sort of greeting anytime you seen each other

Soon you both knew each other by name

"I'm Y/N. What's yours?"

"Ghost."

"Nice to meet you."

"Mmm"

One time you sent him a small smile and he looked away quickly

That left you wondering if you had bothered him somehow...

There was a day afterward, however, he helped you out with a theif

You and him happened to be in the same aisle, looking at the shelves of food on sale

Ghost saw a suspicious person walking by, and kept an eye on them

He then saw them quickly grab your bag from your cart while you weren't looking

They were sneaky, but he was even sneakier

He went after the theif

Then you turned to find your bag gone

"Hey, where's-"

You didn't finish your sentence because at the end of the aisle there was a commotion

Ghost and someone else wrestling on the ground

Then he came back with your bag in his hand

"Here you are, miss. Bastard tried to run off with it."

"Thank you"

You couldn't help to give him a warm smile

"Yeah..." he softly said and gave a nod, his eyes darting, feeling a bit bashful

If you invited Ghost to a concert, he'd most likely would accept because he wouldn't go if you weren't there

He'd see you have a good time, singing along, cheering, and dancing/swaying to the music

The music was great and all, but he found you to be hypnotizing

🖤

Loves tattoos

I headcanon that he loves tattoos and piercings

As you can see, he's got tats of his own

You show him your artwork, and he agrees with you being a tattoo artist

He knows you'd be very good at it

Over time he would develop feelings for you, as do you

When you both are alone, you tell him how you feel

He's a bit shocked for a moment

But he accepts them, and then tells you he feels the same