#give you an excuse to just leave it in the past and keep blowing me off
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idk just thinking about seeing your lieutenant for the first time, this big giant dog of a man, and thinking to yourself, "hmmm yeah, i'm gonna make that thing mine." (18+)
like. i'm thinking about seeing him walk into the room for the first time. fresh off an op, still in all his gear. he's angry cause he's been awake off and on for 40 hours at this point, and he sinks down into a chair in the mess hall, and your eyes bug cause the chair fucking bends with his weight.
and you're just like "omg omg omg holy shit" cause this fucking brute is just huge and beefy, and you had no idea this was your type until you watched his hand curl around a cup and make it look miniature. and you're wondering like "fuck i bet those holsters are custom made" cause you don't think you've ever seen them stretch that far around someone's thigh.
ughghghghgh, and he's dumb as shit, too, or maybe he's just fucking blind. you give him every hint in the book, every indication of how you feel other than pasting a giant neon sign on your forehead that says "fuck me."
you wear the tightest cargo pants you can get. you let the buttons on your shirts go low whenever he's near. you make excuses to see him late, delivering him paperwork in the middle of the night, meeting him out for a smoke (and he's never seen you smoke anything), shuffling your way in front of him in line so you can bump into him and graze your ass against his front. he even catches you this way--even curls his hand around your waist and steadies you before letting you go impatiently.
fuck, bending over in front of him, the obnoxious giggling, the excuses to dangle your tits in his face. you want this man underneath you, on top of you, tangled around you and suffocating you with those enormous arms, and he barely side-glances at you whenever you're in his vicinity, and it's infuriating.
what do you have to do to reel this thing in? how many bones do you have to give him?
how many times do i have to flash my bra at you for you to fuck me over your desk?!
you can't eat another cherry in front of him. you can't drop more sauce onto your cleavage. you cannot come out of the showers in just a towel in front of him anymore because you're going to lose your fucking mind--
you even made out with his beloved little sergeant, his favorite little know-it-all that can't stop blowing shit up. that blue-eyed, insufferable, yapper of a scot that kisses all wet, with teeth, who pants like a puppy when he asks if he can 'ave a taste of y'r bonnie cunt, please, please, please--
and you say yes, because maybe he'll finally fucking shut up if you drown him between your thighs and never let him come up for air.
face down, ass up, cargos around your ankles, hips pushing past against that puppy's stubble as he devours you on his knees. his big hands spread your ass for him, and his thumbs flick over your folds as he opens you up, a cackle leaving him before he opens his mouth wide and kisses your pussy all sloppy and uncoordinated.
when the door swings open and hits the wall with a bang, the puppy tries to leave. he tries to move, but you reach back and grip his mohawk, scowling as you shove his face back where it belongs as your lieutenant stands at the door and heaves with anger.
"uh uh," you snap, and your sergeant on his knees whines, his blue eyes a little foggy and wet as he blinks up at you. but he complies, his tongue slurping, and you flutter your lashes at your lieutenant as you keep johnny muzzled in your cunt. "sorry, lieutenant. is this your office? must've read the sign wrong."
you reel from the contact. a big hand grips you by the hair, slamming you down against his desk, and you choke as you try and gasp for air. like a good boy, johnny settles where he is, shoving his tongue down your hole and moaning low when he realizes you're dripping down his chin now that his lieutenant has you.
"y'think this is funny, eh?" ghost mutters in your ear. "y'think i don't know wot y'r doin'? think i 'aven't caught on, think i 'aven't noticed wot a fuckin' insatiable bloody pain in my arse you've been ever since y'got 'ere?!"
you whimper, relaxing against the desk, and ghost tugs at your hair again, shaking his head.
"oi! y'don't get to be stupid just because y'r gettin' y'r cunny played with," ghost snaps. "y'r a right headache."
you laugh, getting up to your elbows, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as ghost scruffs johnny by the base of his mohawk and cups your pussy with one big hand. you gasp, leaning your head back, because finally, yes, it's all i want, please, please, please--
"'f you wanted to be my pet so bad," ghost murmurs, fitting himself behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he spits into your ear, "all ya had to do was fuckin' ask, swee'eart."
when your eyes open, ghost hums, clicking his tongue under the mask.
"use y'r words," he growls. "be a good girl, and say wot it is y'want."
"want you," you whine, and he sighs deeply, closing his eyes, and you drown out the sounds of johnny sputtering at your feet as ghost bends you at the hip a little more, arching your back.
"mmm...tha'sit. was tha' so hard?"
#idk what this is#but i saw a pic of ghost and i had to be gross about him for a couple hundred words sorry#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon thoughts#ghoap x reader
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~ ~ ~
#yet another night of sitting here waiting around for you to respond to me#it’s especially bad tonight because we were having a tense conversation earlier and I’m anxious about what you’ll say when you come back#but part of me is wondering if you’ll even reply to me tonight at all#I know you have to get up early to go work tomorrow morning#so I guess I wouldn’t be surprised if you just ignored me and left me hanging until sometime tomorrow#and even then you’ll probably just ignore most of what I said and skirt around the tough subject#I just want some answers and clarity but you never want to give that to me#makes it so much harder for me to process things and move on when you’re so adamant about not talking to me about anything#I’m debating on if I should say something else to try to mitigate the damage#tell you everything is fine and let’s forget the hard talks and pretend it never happened#give you an excuse to just leave it in the past and keep blowing me off#it doesn’t matter if I’m suffering as long as you’re ok right?#it doesn’t matter what I want or need or anything because it’s too tough for you to acknowledge#feels like I’ll never get the closure I’m craving and I’ll just have to try to let it all go as if we never had a history#everything just feels bad and I’m tired of feeling that way#personal
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A/N: Tumblr is LACKING in Toge headcanons and over all fics, so I'm here to help the cause. These headcanons do have NSFW under the cut and will be marked with '✥' so MDNI!!! Dividers are from benkeibear on Tumblr
✦ StreamerToge! is the type to make a whole ass living off of streaming with a schedule and everything. He has his whole gaming room that gives off a minimalist white vibe with posters and figurines everywhere.
✦ StreamerToge! Who keeps his streaming schedule up on a whiteboard somewhere in the house so you see it and know.
✦ StreamerToge! Who begs for snacks when he games.
Toge <3: Please, just some cheese 🤲🏽 You: Seriously cheese? Toge <3: Mommy?🧎♂️🧎♂️🧎♂️ You: fine. "Yay, chat I'm getting cheese."
✦ StreamerToge! He finds ways to slip you into the conversation with chat, like he could be mid Val game and he's rambling.
"Yea no, I don't know how I pulled them when my only real defining trait is the grind on Val." "Like no seriously, they are just with me for the carry."
✦ StreamerToge! Who (if you played games too) would beg for you to join him with his games, even if you don't stream yourself he still enjoys the quality time together.
✦ StreamerToge! If you aren't the type to play games he would for sure put like a small couch, day bed, or chair somewhere just so you can spend time with him while he games. He calls it the Y/N corner because he would keep your favorite blankets, a plushie, and maybe a snack drawer somewhere near your spot.
Scrolling on your phone, you walked towards Toge's gaming room. He's been streaming for a few hours and you thought it was finally time to join him. Opening the room door, his laughs flooded out of the room before you stepped in and closed the door behind you again. Toge didn't notice you step in and sit down in your little corner till his chat started blowing up. divinedawgs: RIP to chat Jennifer4lifers: is that who I think it is⁉⁉⁉⁉ strongerinurmom: still amazes me that bro could pull 3panda: didn't you literally get rejected on your last stream? strongerinurmom: stfu sakibara: naw I'm with stronger how did bro pull at 10 while be a 4 Toge turned around to see you sitting down while scrolling on your phone, his smile could light up the whole room as he took his headset off to around in his chair. "Hey, my love." He pushed his chair towards you leaving his current match behind. Looking up from your phone you smile as Toge leans down to scatter kisses across your face. "I love you," he mumbled over your lips before he kissed you. "I love you too." divinedawgs: please turn your camera off when you do that shit strongerinurmom: bro is fr rubbing it in Jennifer4lifers: jealous fr fr
✦ StreamerToge! Even when you act annoyed to bring him snacks you still interrupt his streams to bring him dinner
✥ StreamerToge! If you get annoyed with his constant streaming and lack of attention you would definitely give him that under-the-desk support to hopefully get him to get off and give you attention.
You supported your boyfriend and his successful career with streaming. What you didn't support was how much of his time he's put into it recently. His excuse? "I need to give the fans good content before the holidays, it helps keep money coming in. I swear once I'm done I'm all yours." That stupid excuse is what led you to your current situation. Tears ran down your face as the tip of Toge's dick kissed the back of your throat. Looking up past your lashes was a sight that would bring you to your knees if you weren't already there. Toge squeezes his eyes shut as he throws his head back trying not to groan. His bottom lip was caged between his teeth and he opened his eyes to try to focus on the game in front of him. Gagging you pulled your head up, leaving a trail of pre-cum and saliva mixture from your lips to his raging red tip. He let out a big sigh, taking the time to try to compose himself, but what type of girlfriend would you be if you didn't him finish? A cruel one that's for sure. Despite the palm of his hand trying to push your head back you continued to hollow out your cheeks and bob your head up and down chasing for his release.
✥ StreamerToge! If you streamed with him, or just in general he definitely seems the type to try to convince you to stream with one of those Bluetooth vibrators.
You've never regretted agreeing to one of Toge's idea till now. The shorts you had on were soaked, along with your chair. Your thighs twitched once more as another orgasm ran through your body. Black and white dots danced around your vision and the game in front of you faded in and out of your vision. Before you could slump your body you could hear your friends through your headset. "Seriously Y/N are you sure you're okay?" opening your eyes they roamed around till they landed on your second monitor where you had the chat pulled up. Jennifer4lifers: OH NO ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE OKAY Y/N?!?!? sakibara: Girl is going through it rn strongerinurmom: calling for medical help as we SPEAK 3panda: get help divinedawgs: bruh riceballwh0re: poor baby :(((
✥ StreamerToge! He definitely tells his stream that he has to take a fat shit when he is actually running to your guy's shared room to fit in a quickie before his next match.
✥ StreamerToge! Hot and sloppy make-out sessions before each one of his streams, he claims that it gives him the luck he needs to win his games.
A/N: damn it's been a long ass time since I have written in a creative matter, so hopefully you guys enjoyed this. Requests are open but they might take a while to get to so please keep that in mind. I hope you enjoyed the new JJK content I hope to be writing more soon!
#toge inumaki x reader#toge x reader#inumaki toge#jjk x reader#jjk toge#inumaki x reader#inumaki smau#inumaki smut#jjk inumaki#jujutsu kaisen inumaki#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen
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looking through your eyes + seven
authors notes: so this one leaves probably more questions than answers, but there's also a lot of things sprinkled throughout, and all questions will be answered....eventually.
if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!
cw/tw: fluff, language, discussion of parental loss, brief (two line) flashback of aftermatch following csa, suggestive themes, ptsd trigger
song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes
masterlist
words: 8k
Solana: Are you busy today?
Normally, Roman would keep his phone face down during business meetings but with increasing communication with Solana, he’s leaned more on the side of having it face up so he’s aware when notifications come through.
It’s not a priority. Just a…..preference.
Grabbing his phone, he quickly shoots her back a text.
Roman: What do you need?
Before he can put his phone back down, those three dots appear. He keeps the thread open for her reply to slide in.
Solana: Nvm. I’m sorry to bother you.
Roman curses inwardly, barely keeping it to himself and not making the room of men aware of his frustrations. He can acknowledge Solana has slightly improved with her over–apologizing over the past couple weeks, but it’s moments like this that get him upset all over again.
He fucking hates repeating himself.
But….
There’s that small, annoying ass, nagging voice in the back of his head that reminds him of why she’s always so apologetic, why she thinks her damn existence itself is an inconvenience. And he can’t really fault her, blame her for years of trauma fucking with her mental.
Roman: You’re apologizing again. How many times I gotta tell you to stop that shit?
It could probably, definitely, be worded better. Maybe even a bit…kinder. But Roman is a lot of things.
Kind is not one of them.
He then adds, knowing she’ll probably try to find another excuse to not be honest with him.
Roman: What do you need? The truth, Solana.
There’s an appearance and disappearance of those dots at least three or four times. He can picture her biting down on her bottom lip as she tries to word what probably is a simple request as best she can.
The amount of overthinking she does has to be fucking exhausting.
Solana: I was just gonna see if you could meet me at the library. I wanted to show you something.
Solana: But, it’s not a big deal! Please forget I said anything.
A couple of things strike Roman strange, two in particular. The first being that as soon as she says what she needs, the answer is an automatic yes. Like, it’s not even something he really thinks too much about, but he also chalks it up to a level of genuine curiosity. This might be the first time she’s actually directly asked him for something.
It must be important. Important enough for her to ask him to come see whatever it is, at least.
It’s why he doesn’t even comment on her second, follow up text.
Roman: What time you get off?
He can make whatever work.
Solana: It’s okay. Really.
This damn girl….
Roman’s jaw clench as he types out a text that matches his mood.
Roman: Solana….
She’s giving him a damn migraine. He’s not sure why he doesn’t just ignore her at this point. If it’s that fucking important, she wouldn’t be giving him such a hard time.
But then the stupid nagging voice returns, reminding him that her even asking in the first place is a huge deal that shouldn’t necessarily be shot down because of lingering struggles that are probably going to be around for a while.
Solana literally has years of baggage and trauma she needs to heal from.
And that shit doesn’t happen overnight.
Solana: 3pm
Roman blows out a breath. Fucking finally.
He lays his phone back down, not necessarily wanting to hear any pushback or counter arguments she might try to supply, fake ass reasons she wants to back away from her assertive request.
Not happening.
Roman: I’ll be there.
“Jey.” Roman’s deep voice cuts through the group who set their eyes on him. “I need you and Jimmy to handle the Barrett meeting for me.” While the twins are annoying as shit majority of the time, they’re effective all of the time. Roman has trusted countless meetings with them, and none have turned out badly. They always get shit handled.
His cousins both echo okayness with this change in plans, as expected. The same way Roman expected his Wise Man to be the one with questions.
“My Tribal Chief, we’ve had this meeting scheduled for weeks. What could possibly be more important?”
It’s a fair question, Roman isn’t too stubborn to admit that. But, it’s also not a question that applies. Again, it’s not that Solana is important, per se, it’s just that if his alternative is dealing with Barret’s loquacious business dealings, he’d prefer Solana.
He’s also partially intrigued by the mere fact she’d even had the balls to ask something of him in the first place. It’s promising. Assertiveness has always been more attractive to him than passiveness.
Roman’s answer is both simple and vague. “I have somewhere to be.”
“But—”
“Wise Man.”
Paul’s childlike smile deepens suddenly, as if he’s been picked to be fucking line leader. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”
“Who’s the Tribal Chief?”
Rikishi is the only one to offer a visible reaction, hiding his chuckle. He knows exactly where this is going, even if his decades old friend does not.
“Y–you are, my Tribal Chief.”
Romans voice is sharp and lethal. “So why the fuck are you asking me to answer to you?”
Paul’s expression pales. “I would never, my—”
“Sound like it to me,” Jimmy’s messy ass chimes in. He looks at Jey. “What you think, Uce?”
“Sound like it to me too.” Jey, as expected, agrees. Only for him to nearly fall back in his seat when he jumps up so both feet are on the expensive ass leather. Roman is annoyed all over again for a new reason. “Ayo, Uce, ya’ll got a rat problem!”
At that, Jimmy is twinning with his brother in more than just appearance, also with his feet off the floor and onto the leather chair. Roman hopes they both fall over and break their goddamn necks. Rikishi can handle Barrett just fine.
“Ain’t you like a goddamn billionaire? How the hell you got Stuart Little and his fam running around your crib!”
Roman’s gaze follows the line of vision the twins are so damn focused on only to be met with Dulce calmly walking past both of them to sit in front of him, looking up with a tilted head.
She’s clearly looking for Solana.
And he knows this because it’s become a bit of a habit. If he’s home and she’s not, Dulce’s nosy ass seems to seek him out as if he’s supposed to magically make her owner appear. It’s not something he’s brought up to Solana, because he knows she would just freak the fuck out and over apologize for Dulce “bothering” him.
And that’s not the case.
It’s a bit annoying, but it’s not a bother.
His staff keep an eye out for her when Solana works, and he’s even seen Solana come back to the house on her lunch breaks to check in Dulce, so he doesn’t mind. She’s keeping up her end of the deal, being the primary caretaker for the puppy.
“That’s Solana’s dog.”
Jimmy’s bewildered gaze is on him. “This a dog?”
“Yes.”
“You let her get a dog? Like a real ass dog?”
“You fucking see her, don’t you?” At that moment, Dulce calmly lays down on the floor next to Roman’s feet which are literally bigger than her small ass. It’s followed up by Paul starting to sneeze.
Jey, who is now sitting back in his chair like a normal human being, points out, “man, you hate dogs.”
Naturally, Roman goes a bit on the defense, shoulders straightening. “I don’t hate them.”
Jimmy makes a sound, also with his feet planted on the ground. “Bruh, you literally use to tell us when we was growing up, ‘I hate dogs.’ That’s why we started calling you Big Dog, cause it was funny to see you get all mad and shit.”
Roman may or may not remember that, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to acknowledge it. Besides, he’s allowed to change his mind. Hate was always probably too strong of a word to use anyway.
There are a lot of things Roman hates, even more people that he hates, but dogs are not on the list.
It was more irritation than anything.
“Whatever.”
“What’s her name?” Rikishi asks, bending over his chair to try to catch Dulce’s attention.
Roman watches the puppy gradually make her way over his cousin, ears dropping as he gently rubs the top of her head. “Dulce.”
“Dul–what?”
This…..this is why Roman is on high blood pressure medication, why Dr. Michaels recommended he start wearing one of those smart watches to monitor his heart rate and other shit. Not that he did it.
“Dulce. It’s Spanish.”
“Aw man, why you ain’t say that in the beginning?” Jimmy turns to Jey. “The dog only speak Spanish.” He looks over at his dad who now has Dulce in his lap, continuing to pet her. Roman rolls his eyes. This dog is a damn attention whore, just like he predicted. “Hola, lil’ chalupa.”
Jey punches his brother on the arm. “Uce, you can’t be saying that kind of shit. It’s racist.”
“No, it’d be racist if I called the dog Taco Bell since her mama half Mexican, but I ain’t do that shit, cause I like Soso.”
“Stop calling her that.”
Jimmy avoids Roman’s warning and proceeds to ask with all of the intrigue. “So not only did you let her bring a dog up in here, but you let ole’ girl pick a rat for said dog?”
Already irritated and on edge, Roman isn’t sure why Jimmy’s question irritates him as much as it does, and not even because it's a question that’s being posed when he’s trying to review a contract. It’s that Jimmy is questioning Solana’s decision in general.
He answers as calmly as he’s capable of responding. Roman also notices that Paul is red as a tomato as he pulls out an Epipen. Roman easily brings his focus back to Jimmy. “It’s what she wanted.”
“Should have got a big dog,” Jey suggests, hovering over by Rikishi as he tries to interact with Dulce whose eyes are fluttering closed. Roman swears this damn dog sleeps 23 out of the 24 hours in the day.
That answer is simple, Roman grabbing a pen to sign off on the contract in front of him. It’s satisfactory enough. “She’s scared of them.”
“What is she not scared of?”
But that comment, for whatever reason, is what makes him snap. “Get out.”
Both the twins are unfazed, but it seems to trigger something for them as Jimmy exclaims, “I forgot!” He looks over at Jey, reminding. “Remember, Soso made some extra food for us.”
“Oh shit, she sho’ did!”
Roman makes a mental note to write Solana about that. It’s not her job to keep feeding his grown ass, married ass cousins.
The two bid their farewell, Jey shouting out as his parting term, “yeet!”
“Stop doing that,” Roman calls after their retreating forms as Paul also excuses himself for some air.
Maybe he really is allergic to dogs.
Rikishi stands up and walks over to him, still holding Dulce but not saying anything. He’s just looking like he wants to say something. Another of Roman’s pet peeves, of the many.
With a mutter and scowl, he asks, “what?”
His cousin simply shrugs, nonchalantly commenting. “The girl is growing on you, Uce.” It’s an assessment, for certain.
However, Roman has zero desire to have this conversation with his older cousin, or anyone, in general. Hence, his vague ass reply of, “she’s tolerable.”
Because that’s the truth. Solana is neither amazing nor insufferable. She’s in a pretty balanced space between the both: tolerable.
Rikishi gives him that sly ass look that makes Roman want to punch him in his fucking face. “E tua le fale tele i le faleo’ o.”
It’s an old Samoan proverb that means “Even the mighty need others.”
Instantly, Roman’s gaze is cutting. “I don’t need anyone.” He never has, and he never will.
Rikishi just offers a knowing smile, lowering Dulce back to the ground and placing a hand on Roman’s shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “Of course not, Uce. Of course not.” The older man says nothing else, just walking out, Dulce returning back to stand by Roman’s feet, head up, staring at him.
He rolls his eyes, murmuring as he gets back to work. “She’ll be home later.”
Dulce barks in response.
________
The minute Roman pulls up to Solana’s job, sees the expression on his cousin’s face, he knows something is up.
Solo may have a dangerously good poker face, but Roman invented that shit.
He got the blueprint from Roman.
Solana is sitting near the front of the building, surrounded by fucking children as she reads some basic ass book that they’re all clearly eating up based upon how they can’t seem to take their eyes off her.
Roman isn’t entirely indifferent, instantly taking note of her outfit, more colorful, less covered. It reeks of Naomi’s influence, but in a good way.
As always, she looks good, better than good.
Not wanting to interrupt, Roman motions for a few of his men to take Solo’s place as he gestures for his younger cousin to follow him.
As soon as they’re outside the building, Roman gets right into it. “You got something to say, so say it.”
Roman knows his cousin well enough to know that despite his brutal fighting abilities, the man is always careful and meticulous with his words. Unlike his hot headed older brother, Jey, Solo always thinks before he acts.
It’s why Roman doesn’t think twice about the space between the issuance of his prompt and Solo’s answer.
“You made me your enforcer for a reason, yeah?”
It’s an easy answer. “Yes.”
“You upped me in the ranks to prove myself, right? To earn my way into the inner circle?”
Roman is already bored with the conversation, but considering this is family, he throws a bone. “Yeah.”
“So just how am I supposed to do that when you got me playing babysitter to your new wife?” The turn in topics as well as increase in Solo’s volume does slightly, very slightly, take Roman by surprise. Granted, he does a masterful job, as always, hiding that surprise. “Any lower guy could do this shit. She don’t—”
“Solo.” Roman gives him that tight smile and scratches his beard, typically the last thing people see before they meet their maker. “You answer to me. You do what I say you do, and I say you’re assigned to Solana.”
Roman doesn’t know what’s in the fucking water for people to be testing him the way they are, but it’s really starting to piss him off.
Solo looks down, clearly embarrassed by this talk down but not enough to shut his mouth. “I get that, but—”
“Wasn’t she already hurt once under your watch?” Roman’s voice is razor sharp as he reminds the younger man of his failure. The memory of that fucking bruise on Solana’s wrist from her bitch of a brother returning all of those strong emotions. “I gave you a job, and you didn’t do it. She got hurt while under your protection. It’s because you’re my cousin, you're even still breathing right now. You know better than anyone I don’t accept failure.”
At that, Solo concedes, knowing good and well there is no excuse or justifiable reason. “I understand, my Tribal Chief.”
Roman does his best to chip away some of his anger at this outright disrespect as well as the memories of Solana hurt. He steps past his cousin, calling out over his shoulder. “And Solo, don’t think because you’re family I won’t put a bullet in your head for questioning me.” Out of the corner of his eye, Roman can see Solo still has his head down. “Fail me again, let her get hurt again, and I’ll put your ass six feet under.”
Roman doesn’t allow the conversation to persist beyond that, big steps taking him back to the library just in time to see the children disperse, whipping past him as Solana approaches. The wedges on her feet give her a bit more height, but he still towers over her, which is a usual experience for him.
But, it doesn’t negate the fact that she’s so damn small.
“Hi,” she greets in that familiar unsure voice, eyes darting from him to the ground. “Sorry—I mean—story time ran a bit over.”
He’s appreciative she at least caught the apologizing before he had to call it out. “It’s fine.”
She offers a tight smile and motions for him to follow her, which he does, just as his eyes follow the sway of her ass as she leads the way.
He’s starting to really enjoy seeing her in jeans.
She leads him up the stairs and in the back area he’d visited her before what seems like so long ago, finding that her bastard of a brother had manipulated her into being alone with him. The last fucking time that shit will ever happen.
She pulls a key out her back pocket and unlocks the door, informing, “I have to grab something first.”
He doesn’t say anything, just nods. It’s like she feels the need to justify every little thing she does.
Roman watches her walk over to the desk, leaning over as she grabs him something out of her bag, a notebook, the journal he first found her writing in the first time he came to see her at her place of employment.
She’s back by him, closing and locking the door. “Come on.”
Typically, if this was anyone else, Roman would have demanded to know just what the fuck was so important that caused him to have to rearrange his whole schedule. Granted, he can’t take that out on her, nor would he ever, when he’s the one who rearranged his whole schedule for her. She didn't ask him to do that shit.
He did it on his own volition for reasons unknown.
The walk to the next stop doesn’t take long at all, Solana soon sticks her key in another, unfamiliar door, opening and stepping aside but directing him to walk in.
He does as such, naturally and instantly taking in his surroundings once she hits the light switch. It’s a room obviously, a previous storage room he would guess based upon the large filing cabinet lined against the wall to the right of him. There’s also another couple pieces of furniture against that same wall, like a desk and mini bookshelf, but that’s not what immediately catches his attention.
He’s instead more interested by the remaining walls that are essentially lined with larger, white bookshelves, all filled with a combination of notebooks, books, and journals. Completely filled.
Intrigued but also confused, the latter of which is unfamiliar to him, Roman turns to Solana, asking, “what is this?”
Her cheeks redden, but she manages an answer that’s somehow not marked by as much stuttering. “There are all my journals—well,” she stops, giving a nervous laugh. “Most of them. Some are books I’ve read, and….” She walks over to a section that somehow seems different from the others, albeit lined up neatly with the rest of the items. Solana’s hand almost hesitantly feathers over the spines of the journals. At closer look, Roman can see they’re a bit dated and worn than the others. “These were my mother’s.”
Her answer surprises him, but he quickly recalls her sharing that she started writing because of her mother, because they wrote to each other.
She clears her throat and then turns back to him, sharing, “every time I finish a journal, I leave it here.”
Obviously. “Why here?”
“My mom started it. It—it was an arrangement she had with Mrs. Jensen. She worked here, and along with her pay, she arranged so she could keep her writings here and after….” Solana starts to hesitate, and Roman can see it’s because emotion is brewing. Just gently bubbling under the surface. “After she died, I kept up with it.”
Roman recognizes the sensitive nature of the subject and makes a subtle effort to change the topic on her behalf. “You’ve really written in all of these?” It’s impressive. He has to give her that. The thought of writing in general has never appealed to him, so for her to have a room full of journals she’s completed is fucking impressive.
She nods, adding sheepishly, “filled em’ up.” Solana then takes the one in her hand, lifting it a bit. “Finished this one this morning.” He watches her squeeze it into a row that’s probably already being pushed to the limit.
She’s going to run out of space eventually.
She’ll need something bigger, sooner rather than later. Roman compartmentalizes this for a later date and time to navigate.
“You keep em’ here to hide them also, don’t you?”
“They can never know what I’ve written….” She doesn’t need to say who they are. It’s more than obvious. It’d be a sure death wish. “I just—-I know you said you’d write for now and it’s been almost a month, but—but I—I figured if you knew just how important and helpful writing is to me—”
“Solana.” There’s no need for her long ass, drawn out explanation. He understands now why she wanted him to see this space, the goal behind the request. “We’ll write as long as you need it.”
He watches her shoulders drop, a sign of relief. She bites back a smile he wouldn’t be opposed at seeing. She looks even better when she’s smiling. “Thank you.”
He only nods, and Solana finds herself taking him in.
All of him.
In recent weeks, she’s discovered yet another newfound difficulty and source of anxiety for herself. And that new addition would happen to be in the form of the 6’3 man before her.
Roman has always made her nervous, for a variety of good and valid reasons, but recently, the cause of that anxiety has shifted to something else, something a bit on the unfamiliar side for her, or rather something she hasn’t really had to think about since her last disastrous relationship.
Attraction
Solana has come to terms with the fact that she’s attracted to Roman, yes, but also that she hasn’t the slightest clue of what to do about and with that said attraction.
It’s always been there, to a certain extent, but it was more dormant, something she knew was present but voiceless and nameless, almost invisible.
Now, in interacting and engaging with him more, it’s formed more defining characteristics, creating a sense of butterflies in her stomach whenever his smoldering gaze falls on her or when he says something to her, that deep, baritone voice sprouting goosebumps on the back of her neck.
It also doesn’t help that he’s indicated a couple of different times now that he also finds her attractive, or pretty, beautiful even.
That he thinks she looks good.
None of that makes sense to Solana nor can she understand why he would believe any of those things, but she would never make him out to be a liar, so it must be true, to some extent.
And therein lies the dilemma.
One of many that exist in her life.
How she’s supposed to balance attraction with fear, desire with aversion, peace with trauma. It’s all a muddled mess.
“Solana.”
“Sorry.” He only has to sigh one time for her shoulders to sulk, but instead of apologizing, she points out in a small voice. “It’s—it’s a habit.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a fucking habit to break.” His irritation is palpable, and Solana feels even smaller around him, like she’s done something wrong. “It’s not you I’m annoyed with.”
“Oh.” And that genuinely surprises her. In Solana’s experience, she’s always been the source of people’s, especially the men in her life, exasperation. But before she can step out of her comfort zone and ask him what’s wrong, he informs her of something that completely makes her emotions flip and twirl into a puddle of distress.
“Your father called for you today.” And just like that, any sense of relation and ease she’d achieved is dissipated, replaced with growing unrest. “Relax…” It’s not missed upon Solana how Roman’s tone quickly and almost easily jumps from irritated to almost soothing, like he’s trying to calm his nerves. “I told him to fuck off.”
That doesn’t make her feel any better. “He doesn’t like being told no.”
“And you think I give a fuck?” His deep voice is full of indifference and edge, but this time around, Solana knows it’s not directed towards her. He then asks, “do you want to talk to him?”
It takes her off guard. “What?”
Roman repeats himself with a surprising lack of irritation. “Do you want to talk to him?”
Solana can’t remember the last time she was asked such a question. Been given a choice. Then again, it’s happened quite a few times since her marriage to Roman, starting with Bayley asking her something as simple as how she wants her makeup done.
She doesn’t know what to make of that. Just another thing added to that mounting list of confusing and conflicting thoughts and feelings.
“If you want to, I’ll allow it.” He quickly adds the caveat. “But not without me present.”
Prior to the past couple weeks, Solana would suspect Roman’s stipulation stems from a place of possessiveness. But now….now it feels like it comes from someplace else, something so unfamiliar and foreign.
Protectiveness.
It feels like he’s being protective of her.
His proclamation from earlier returns to the forefront of her mind.
“I’m not going to let anyone lay a fucking hand on you.”
He’d also included a list of people he wouldn’t allow to do as such, including her dad and brother, which is why he clearly would only let Solana speak to her father if he’s around.
It’s just the why that has her stumped.
But, back to the question being posed, the easiest and most simple answer is no. She’d rather not be around someone who’s only ever left her hurt, emotionally and/or physically. Or allocated that task to her brother.
Not to mention the fact that the only reason he probably wants to talk to her is to discuss this nefarious plot she still refuses to allow herself to think about because it’s so inconceivable.
“Not really,” she answers after what feels like forever, “but…”
Roman picks up on her hesitation. “But?”
“Like I said, my–my father doesn’t like being denied.” And before he can protest or again reiterate his outright indifference to her father’s feelings, Solana adds in a quiet voice, “and I usually end up being the one to pay for it.”
Roman steps towards her, and before she can process what’s happening, his finger is under her chin, tugging so that her head is lifted, eyes locked with his.
His voice lowers, quietly asking, “you still don’t believe me when I say I won’t let anyone hurt you, huh?” It’s rhetorical, sure, but Solana is too focused on the fact that this man is touching her. It’s as innocent as innocent comes, but it’s still touch, something she usually hides away from like the plague. However, outside of the initial shock and borderline discomfort, Solana doesn’t jump away, doesn’t feel the need to put as much distance between them. She’s almost….almost comfortable.
“I’m going to kill them both, eventually. Fucking with them in the meanwhile only makes the outcome that much more worthwhile. But…” And the surprises keep coming, especially as he makes her aware of his intentions. “One word. All I need is one fucking word from you. That you want them gone, and it’s done. No questions asked.”
Power.
Solana wonders if this is what power feels like, the ability to say one single word and have a life be ended. How she feels about those lives belonging to her brother and father remains to be seen, but even being given such an option, such an almost promise, it’s an indescribable experience.
Roman’s brown eyes, light and contrasting everything about him that is sharp and hard, study her. “You understand me?”
Naturally, she nods against his index finger that’s under her chin, demanding maintained eye contact.
“I need words.” It’s a reminder from the infamous wedding night, something that seems so far in the rearview mirror now.
“Y–yes.”
He seems pleased by this acknowledgment, enough to pull his hand away from her, Solana trying not to make too much of the strange sensation that floats in her stomach at the absence of his touch.
Roman suddenly offers. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll up your security detail.” Before she can protest and probably apologize if she’d unintentionally indicated it wasn’t already enough, he asks, “you get off at 3 every day?”
“Essentially, y–yes.”
“I’ll start meeting you.”
The surprises just keep on coming.
Instantly, she feels bad, shaking her head. “You don’t have to—”
“Solana.” This man must get tired of having to say her name, she’s certain of that. “I’ll meet you.” He says the same thing, but this time, she knows not to push back because it’s a done thing. “Just make sure I have your updated work schedule.”
“Wh—what about Solo?”
“He’ll still be assigned to you for any other outings.” This makes her feel a little better, that he’s not entirely rearranging and inconveniencing himself for her. “You ready to go?”
Yes. No. Maybe. There’s so many different questions she has with only a select number of answers, but in this moment, she goes with the one that feels most right.
Especially with Roman reaching for her hand.
Nodding, she swallows and accepts his gesture, noticing how his large hand closes over hers, almost protectively.
“Yes.”
________
“That for me?” Solana looks up from the notebook she’s almost certain she’ll have filled and completed by the end of the month. Roman’s presence and question both catch her off-guard. She didn’t really expect to speak to him again today, especially after he already spent time with her earlier that day. She figured he’d had his maximum daily dosage.
Especially after she’d already prepared and fixed dinner for him, the two of them falling into their now routine of him eating in his office, her in the living room before she makes her way out back to the patio where she either writes or, now, plays with Dulce.
Solana shakes her head, answering softly as Roman sits on the chair opposite her. “no. It’s…”
“About your mom?”
With him now aware of the nature of some of her writing, she answers, “yeah.” Roman’s question triggers something she’s certain she intentionally never commented on because it was such a shock to her system that she really didn’t know how to respond. “When….when you said it wasn’t my fault….did—did you mean that?”
If she expected there to be delayed response or even confusion on his end, she was entirely wrong because he answers almost on the spot. “Yes. I told you, I wouldn’t lie to you.”
She’s starting to believe that.
Wetting her lips, she informs in that same small voice, “no one’s ever said that to me before.”
Xavier’s unshaven face and dark, judgmental gaze is focused on her, Solana doing her best to ignore the pain that wrecks her body, the beeping of the machines and IV’s in both her arms. The throbbing between her legs is equally scary as it is confusing. What did they do to her, and why did it hurt so much?
He pulls the cigar from his mouth, dropping and stomping it on the floor, gruff voice asking, “why didn’t you fight back?” He shakes his head, spitting at the same spot that’s littered with remnants of one of many poor habits. “You’re weak just like your mother.”
Roman’s firm voice snatches her away from spiraling too deeply in dark memories of an even darker past. She does her best to shake away any sign she was about to dissociate when he surprises her for what feels like the 10th time today, almost quietly sharing, “My mother was killed when I was ten years old.” There’s a synchronous dropping of her mouth and stomach at the exact same time. “You think that shit was my fault?”
The answer is obvious and immediate. “No. Of–of course not. You were—you were just a kid.”
While her response is borderline automatic, coming from a place of pure logic, everything else is so confusing. Roman’s mother is….dead? Not even dead but murdered when he was a child?
Just like hers.
Solana doesn’t know how to process this. It’s not until this very moment that she realizes not once has she ever considered or thought about his immediate family, like parents and even siblings. At the wedding, so many people were present, obvious family members of his, but she’s just now realizing she never considered who was who. Were they all cousins, aunts, in-laws even?
Where is the rest of his immediate family? Better yet, who makes up his immediate family? She’s aware of the twins and even his older cousin Rikishi, but is there not more?
“So were you.” She can’t tell if Roman intentionally works to redirect the focus back onto herself or if he’s unaware of the fact she’s suddenly wondering just how much about the man across from her she still knows nothing about it. “So why is it different for you?”
It’s an effective diversion and valid question that she’s never once asked herself.
“No one’s ever said that either.” Her voice is only a couple octaves above a whisper, and Solana finds herself sharing more than she’s probably ever divulged to anyone. “When I….when I’m writing, a lot of the times, I’m writing letters to my mom.” Having this conversation with anyone, let alone Roman, of all people, wasn’t on her life agenda. But, it seems like a lot of ‘nevers’ are gradually morphing into ‘actualities.’
It’s such a strange experience, too.
“Like I said, we used to write to each other, and after….after she was killed, I couldn’t find it in me to stop. I think at the beginning, I kept doing it because….because I didn’t want to accept she was gone.” The understanding and underlying emotion shifts to the surface, resulting in her quickly wiping at her eyes to keep the tears from falling. “Like I was waiting for her to write me back.” It’s not missed upon Solana how Dulce suddenly moves closer, tucking her body right up against Solana’s thigh. “And I’ve kept at it over the years, cause—she was the only person I could ever talk to.”
Roman repeats the same message he wrote to her, almost reminding her of a lifeline she’s gradually starting to realize is available for the first time in almost twenty years. “You can talk to me, Solana.”
And she is. She doesn’t know how and especially why, but she is, and as heavy as the topic is, there’s a hint of relief at finally having another living, breathing person to speak to and with about these things.
Especially…..especially someone who can maybe relate to her. “How did you do it—how did you….move past it?”
It’s not the best wording, she’s certain of that. Losing a parent. Having a parent be murdered isn’t something one gets over.
Solana knows this better than most, but Roman….he’s so composed, so together, so unbroken.
So unlike her.
His expression darkens as he answers in an eerie but calm voice. “I got my revenge, and I killed every single son of a bitch who played a role.” His delivery unsettles her a bit, but he seems to easily shift back into that almost patient tone she’s only ever heard him use….with her. “But, I’m not like you, Solana. You're innocent. My ledger bleeds red.” Solana doesn’t know what it looks or even sounds like for Roman to be uncomfortable, but his delivery in the next part definitely feels as such. “I don’t….feel things like you do. You feel everything. I feel nothing.”
She whispers. “I wish I was like that, that I didn’t feel.” Because it’s true. Because it’s how she initially started to self harm, because she wanted to feel something other than emotional pain. Even physical pain was better than the anguish that racked her every day, 24/7.
He’s quick to shut that down, to tell her the complete opposite. “No, you don’t. That would mean you’ve lost that innocence you have.”
That actually makes Solana smile, chuckle, but there’s not an ounce of humor as she shakes her head. “I–I lost my innocence a long time ago.” Stolen. It was stolen from her a long time ago is the more appropriate way to word it. Stomach a complete freaking mess, she does her best to power through her anxiety at what she’s about to tell him. “Roman…..I—”
“Ayo, Uce—”
“What!” Roman snaps, Solana jumping back away from him, hypervigilance back on high and alert. He briefly casts his gaze back in her direction, and she can almost swear she sees a speck of guilt. Like he’s apologetic for scaring her.
Jimmy, however, is unfazed by his cousin’s temper. He’s lived with it his whole life. Ain’t nothing new. “Rhodes men were on Bloodline territory—”
“What?” At that, Roman’s head snaps back in Jimmy’s direction. And Solana watches as any sign of Roman, patient and almost kind, is replaced almost instantly with that same cold, stoic demeanor that could strike fear in the heart of even the strongest man.
He stands up, hands on his hips as he moves a bit away from her. Solana also stands, fighting her urge to move closer to him.
Jimmy also presents with a seriousness she’s never seen in him, never even really knew he was capable of, to be honest. “We got three guys down. Another two critically injured.”
Roman curses, turning away, back toward Jimmy and her. He then asks, “you got a location on em’ yet?”
“Pearce should have it any minute now.”
“Good. Let’s go.” Roman nods, stepping away from Solana and in the direction of Jimmy just as Dulce walks over, clearly wanting Solana to pick her up. She must also pick up on the sudden shift in the atmosphere.
Dulce in her arms, Solana finds herself calling for Roman. “What—”
“Not now.” His dismissal is sharp and sudden. It shouldn’t hurt her feelings, because it’s obvious he’s in an entirely different zone now, but it does.
Solana sinks back into her shell of silence as Solo steps forward. “You want me—”
“Stay with Solana. She doesn't step foot outside this fucking house, you understand me?” Roman’s orders are indisputable, an almost sense of urgency in his tone. “Heighten security around the premises.”
Solana has so many questions. Just what is going on? Why is Roman so on edge all of a sudden? Who is Rhodes and why do they present such an imminent threat where Roman marches out the house, Jimmy on his heels without even a second glance at her.
It’s all so confusing.
“You need to get inside.” Solo’s equally stoic reminder, command maybe, pulls her from her thoughts. And Dulce suddenly growling at Solo definitely redirects her focus.
“Shhh. It’s just Solo,” she comforts, petting and trying to calm the puppy who quickly upgrades her growling to barking. This also confuses the mess out of Solana.
She’s not sure she’s ever seen Dulce both growl and bark at someone.
Wordlessly, she walks in the house, past Solo who she notices makes sure to lock the door behind them.
“Stay in your room," he instructs, and while she has more questions than anything, his austere tone is more than enough for her to not push back.
Dulce will just have to use the crate if she has to use the bathroom.
Without another word, Solo carries Dulce up the stairs and into her room where she lays the puppy in her bed and Solana climbs onto her.
Chewing on her bottom lip, she grabs her phone and opens up the latest group text thread she was messaging in.
Solana: Can I ask you guys something?
Their replies come in not even five minutes later.
Bayley: Of course!
Naomi: Anything.
Without allowing herself too much time to overthink it, Solana sends out the simple question.
Solana: Who or what is Rhodes?
Solana: Roman just rushed out of here after Jimmy said something about Rhodes men being on Bloodline territory. I’m not allowed to leave the mansion.
Just like the start of the conversation, the replies come in almost instantaneously.
Naomi: Fuck.
Naomi: Yes, stay put. Solo’s there with you, right?
Solana: Yes.
Solana’s anxiety is only growing. Naomi sounds just as intense as Jimmy and Roman were.
Her follow up text doesn’t do anything to help the confusion either.
Naomi: The less you know, the better. The guys will handle it.
Handle what, though? That’s what Solana really wants to know. What is the story here, and why did this Rhodes person or group have Roman so wired.
Just then, another notification comes through. From Bayley, but in their individual thread and not the group chat.
Solana switches over, reading her messages as they arrive almost back to back.
Bayley: Rhodes is a person, but…that’s a complicated story.
Bayley: And I'd feel bad telling someone else’s story, but what I can tell you is that Rhodes is Cody Rhodes, head to the Nightmare Factory, the Bloodline’s biggest opp. Tensions have been at an all time high for like two generations with countless bodies dropped on both sides. It’s always a bloodbath when they’re in the same vicinity.
Solana is regretting even asking anything in the first place. Bloodbath when they’re in the same vicinity, the same vicinity Roman is heading for as she types. Her shoulders drop, anxiety starting to shift to a new target.
Concern for his safety.
Bayley: If you’re somehow ever in a situation where someone from the Nightmare territory is around, get the hell out of dodge. They won’t hesitate to kill you, especially with you being Roman’s wife.
Bayley: Or Rollins. Seth Rollins. Especially him. Guy is fuckin’ psycho.
Solana: Rollins?
Bayley: Roman, Seth, and Cody used to be friends a long time ago, like way long ago, and it just….it went bad. Really really fucking bad, and Cody and Roman have hated each other since. Like, I don’t know if hate is even a strong enough word for how much they can’t stand each other.
Solana: But why?
Bayley never replies.
________
Roman doesn’t step back into the house until almost 4am. He feels every bit exhausted as he probably looks, more physical than anything, some mental, maybe more than he’d like to admit.
Dealing with anything Nightmare related typically has that impact on him.
Solo meets him at the door, looking as on alert as he did when Roman first saw him at the ass crack of dawn this morning.
The first thing to leave Roman’s mouth isn’t intentional as much as it is unintentional. “How was she?”
Solo motions to the marble flooring leading to the spacious living room. “She’s waiting for you.”
Roman wasn’t expecting to hear that, and he’s certain it shows in his facial expression. “What? Why? Why is she still up?”
Solo shrugs. “You’ll have to ask her. She don’t talk to me.” Which is more Solo’s preference anyway. It’s his job to protect her, not be her fucking friend. “Everything good?” Roman nods but doesn’t say anything, still stuck on the fact that Solana is still up. “Imma head out.”
Roman’s response is as distant as his expression. He doesn’t care whether Solo stays or leaves. “Alright.”
Once his enforcer is out the house, Roman sure enough finds Solana sitting on the sofa, legs crossed, notebook in her lap as she writes away.
“Solana.”
She gasps, clearly taken by surprise, but when her head lifts and her eyes land on him, she untangles her legs and moves the journal to the side. Solana walks over to him, keeping a distance that makes sense for her. “You’re back….”
“What are you still doing up? Don’t you have work in a couple hours?”
“It’s okay.” She shakes her head, adding sheepishly, “I–I don’t sleep much anyway.” He knows this well. “I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Her eyes widen as she hones in on the nasty looking cut near the middle of his hairline. “You’re hurt….”
It’s really not until she says anything that Roman remembers the only “injury” he received from tonight’s bloodbath. “It’s fine.” He then redirects the focus to the main topic at hand. “Solana, you don’t have to wait up for me.”
She ignores him, actually ignores him and instead reaches up to feel the cut that’s maybe a bit more deeper than he realized because her feather light touch brings a bit of a sting.
“You need stitches.” It doesn’t sound like a suggestion, and he realizes as such following her next surprising action. She takes his hand and leads him into the kitchen, motioning for him to sit down on the stool as she pulls out the medical kit from under the sink.
Similar to the night of WarGames, she moves in between his open legs and starts tending to his cut, meticulously and carefully stitching him up.
She says not a word, and neither does he. Truthfully, it’s more an unconscious thing than conscious, like neither knows what or if to say something. Especially considering both are currently feeling more than what they know how to properly verbalize, or verbalize at all, really.
“There….” Roman can tell when she’s done. She gently runs her fingers over her diligent work, her eyes focused on the source of her apparent concern when all he wants is for her to look at him, for her eyes to lock on him. “I think I’m—” And just as Solana goes to move away, to step back and clean up, she’s stopped.
She’s stopped, because Roman reaches for her, keeping her near him.
His hand is initially on the small of her back, and Solana has the same experience from earlier. That initial tense feeling that quickly mellows into something almost calm, almost secure.
She’s not sure she’s ever been this close to him, not since the last time she tended to his injuries, not since their wedding day, since their wedding night.
But unlike that last almost traumatic time, she’s not pummeled with anxiety, not paralyzed with fear.
It’s just the calm.
His eyes never leave her, bouncing back and forth between her eyes and lips. He then says in a low voice that’s unlike anything she’s heard from him before. “Solana….”
There’s something different about the way he says her name, something more sincere, something almost….vulnerable.
Roman suddenly has both hands on her hips, holding her, just as her nervous hand moves to lay her palm against his chest.
His eyes instantly shut at her touch. Interactions with anything regarding Rhodes have always done something to Roman emotionally, but it’s always been something he can manage relatively well. Something simple and easy. There’s nothing simple and easy about whatever the fuck is coursing through him at having her so close to him, having her touch, soft and unsure as the expression in her eyes.
She doesn’t know what to make of his eyes closing nor does she have time to consider what to make of that because an image, a flashback of a different kind of touch, a much more painful, visceral touch shoots to the forefront of her mind.
And her chest starts tightening, that fear drawing back up.
“I–I can’t.” Because as much as some part of her, albeit big or small, likes this, likes being close to him, feels safe being this close to thim, another part, much larger and much stronger, can't handle being this close to him. “I’m sorry.” Eyes watering, she breaks away, Dulce is quickly behind her, Solana reaching to hold the puppy as she dashes up the stairs.
Roman sits unsure, confused, angry. He stands up, pacing across the floor, hands up and on the side of his head before his fist slams against the refrigerator door. He curses, but not from the blow. That shit doesn’t hurt.
His reaction and frustration is directed solely toward the fact that he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s feeling right now.
The same thing Solana is struggling with as she sits on her bed, legs pulled up to her chest, silently crying into her thighs.
Both of them wondering the same exact thing:
What the hell just happened?
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Words Like Honey 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Lee Bodecker, Ransom Drysdale (Professor AU)
Summary: it's hard making friends at college, but you might just be looking in the wrong places.
Part of the Bad Professors AU
Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all.
You reach for the last coconut bar in the basket. As you take it, another hand stops short and you turn to the man you didn’t notice right beside you. You have a bad habit of zoning out in crowded places. Your sister calls it tunnel vision. Often times, you would just sit and stare at family gatherings with all the people and sound.
“Oh, oops, sorry,” you hold out the bar, “did you want this one?”
The man glances at you, a tick in his cheek, “aw, sweetheart, don’t you worry about that. I’m just fine with a brownie.” He reaches to take a brownie from the basket instead, “nice of ya to offer, though.”
“It’s not problem,” you say, “I don’t mind trading.”
“No, no, now what kinda gentleman would take from a pretty gal like yourself? You go on and enjoy that,” he smiles. “Don’t meet many polite ladies ‘round here, now.”
“Oh,” your cheeks heat up, “thank you, sir.”
“And I’m sure you don’t need old men sayin’ so,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll be on my way then.”
You smile as he moves to get around you. The space is tighter than you expect and his belly presses slightly against you as he sidles past. He gives and apologetic nod, “sorry, sweetheart.”
“No worries,” you assure him and slip past, turning to peruse the packets of flavoured hot chocolate by the hot water karafe.
You choose the smores flavour and tear it open. You fix up your cocoa and pop a lid on top. You take your sweets to the cashier and swipe your student card. It isn’t the best use of your meal plan but that sweet tooth kills you.
You have about an hour before your next class. You come out into the cafeteria area and glance around. There’s not much room in the midday rush. The first week is always the busiest.
You could sneak your hot chocolate into the library but you’re not sure it would be any less crowded. You see the same man at a table. He shimmies on his seat as he puts his briefcase next to him. He’s older and judging by his checkered button-up, a professor.
You measure your options. Second year and you still haven’t found any friend. Your grandma says to put yourself out there but Cameron in your baking class said your souffle looked flat and laughed with Dustin and Penny.
All you want is a place to sit.
You approach the man, your stomach fluttering. You really hope you’re not bothering him. You keep your hot chocolate close to your chest.
“Ahem, erm, excuse me, sir,” you say. He looks up as he presses his thumb down to unlock his phone. He lays it on the table and retracts his hand. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a pest, again, but...” you look around, “do you mind if I steal this seat? I promise I’ll be quiet.”
“Go on,” he gestures to the chair. “I’ll only ask ya one thing.”
“Oh, sure,” you look at him like a frightened fawn.
“Your name? Must be as pretty as you.”
You could melt. The way his accent turns his voice to syrup and his words make it even sweeter. You grin.
“Saffron, sir,” you set down your cup and square. You extend your hand in an overly formal gesture. “And you?”
“You can call me Lee, sweet cake.” He shakes your hand. His grip is firm and tight. He reminds you of your neighbour who used to mow the lawn for your grandma. Always helpful.
“Lee,” you sit and blow over the slot of the lid. “You must teach. Oh, sorry, I said I’d be quiet.”
“Nah, it’s alright,” he waves away your apology. “Is it that obvious then? You count the grays?”
He touches his temples and you giggle nervously. “No, no, I didn’t mean that. I only... well, you could be a student. Gerry in my pastry class, he’s got grandkids.”
“I ain’t got none of those now,” he snorts and points at you tersely.
“I--” You pull back and touch your cheeks, “oh boy, I didn’t mean it like that. I swear.”
He laughs, “I know. I’m yankin’ ya chain. So, I s’pose you’re a student then? Culinary? You mentioned pastries?”
“Oh, yes.” You nod and cross your arms over the table. “I always cooked with my grandma and I figured, if you’re good at something, you should keep doing it.”
“That does sound like a good plan,” he says.
“Mmhmm,” you hum and nod.
Awkwardness sets in and you try to figure out what to do with yourself. You scratch your shoulder then reach for your hot chocolate. You take another drink and set it down. You take the coconut square and put it in your bag.
You take out your laptop, hoping to busy yourself as the tension builds. You should have just gone and sat in the quad. Too late now.
You open up the lid and type in your password. Of course, it needs to update. As you wait for the rolling circle to finish, your vision blurs. All this activity makes you want to disappear.
Your eyes come back into focus as your computer chirps. You blink and notice movement on the other side. You glance at Lee as he pulls his phone close and squints at the screen. There’s something odd about the intensity of his gaze. You swear, he’d just had it right across from you.
Well, you weren’t paying attention. There you go again, blocking out the world. If you stopped that, you might actually make friends! You frown and cup your chin in your hand.
“’samatter?” He asks, once more jarring you from your self-imposed isolation.
You shake your head and sit up, “nothing. Just... thinking.”
“Hm, well whatever ya thinking of, it can’t be so bad. Not enough to make a sweet thing like you so sad,” he says.
“Really, it’s not. You know, college can be stressful,” you force a smile.
“It can be. Piece of advice,” he leans forward, “get out while you can. Don’t stick around like me.”
“Oh, well, thanks,” you reply. “I think I’ll end up in a kitchen somewhere. Hopefully.”
“Kitchen’s a nice place to be,” he winks. “Make all sorts of tasty dishes. Make people happy. Not many people happy about a term paper, ya know?”
#lee bodecker#ransom drysdale#dark lee bodecker#dark ransom drysdale#dark!lee bodecker#dark!ransom dysdale#lee bodecker x reader#ransom drysdale x reader#knives out#the devil all the time#words like honey#au#professor au#series#drabble
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Older CIA Alex
NSFW | 18+ | Age gap/dad's employee/forbidden Please check AO3 for tags
Perspective: Female reader
We're going to work this like Ex-Husband Price where I expand on things here and there. I just had to get this listed out.
So much for 'next few days'. I swear these ideas will eat me alive if I don't write them out.
OCIA!Alex - Was in your father's office when you walked in to meet him for lunch. He rose from his chair the moment you entered, a sign of respect and also that he would be leaving. You give him a small smile which he returns before slipping out the door.
OCIA!Alex - Casually asks your dad about you, and how the lunch went, when he returns from an overseas mission weeks later. It's not very out of place, Alex is an observant man, but the fact it was over a month later and he recalled where you went to lunch together struck your dad as interesting.
OCIA!Alex - Accepts your father's offer to join a few of the group for dinner. Your father always extended the invite to his whole team which Alex declined each time with an excuse. Except this time when he finds out, you'll also be at this dinner. Your father questions his sudden change of heart to which Alex answers charity is important.
OCIA!Alex - Is careful to make sure he is seated next to you at the charity gala. He's in his dress blues looking polished and the attention he pays you has you flustered. All evening he keeps you engaged in conversation, pulls out your chair for you, and makes sure your glass is never empty. In an effort to make a friend you give Alex your number as if he didn't already have it, and your social media accounts, saved in one of his burners after a bit of digging so he could learn more about you. Your father notices the friendly exchanges and makes sure to have a conversation with his subordinate. (Lunch and Dinner Date can be found here)
OCIA!Alex - Barely bats an eye at the fact you are almost twelve years younger than him. What's age really when you were both adults? He's even less phased by the fact your father lets him know you're fresh out of a long-term relationship which is why you were living with him for the time being. That explains why Alex hadn't seen you before and why you subconsciously ran your thumb over your ring finger all evening to play with a ring that was no longer there. Your father warns him, in a casual but firm tone, that you are off limits; he kept family and work separate for a reason. Alex assures him he was just being friendly, Sir.
OCIA!Alex - Volunteers to assist you in moving to your new apartment in exchange for a couple of beers. You texted him out of desperation, no friends in town, and your father is not the young man he used to be. It was the first time you had messaged him, he had been waiting none too patiently. Alex agrees, he's got the time and it's an excuse to see you again. Your father would have been more suspicious of this if he wasn't relieved to not be the only person lugging your furniture up three flights of stairs. (Move In Day can be found here)
OCIA!Alex - Swings by when you send him a message at one in the morning that the AC unit is on the fritz. The landlord didn't deem it an emergency and your father was out of town. The apartment is beyond sweltering and there isn't even a breeze to help. It was more of a venting session, you had been talking more often via text through the past couple of weeks, but Alex takes it upon himself to give you a hand.
OCIA!Alex - Fixes the unit enough that it's at least blowing semi-cool air. He insists on hanging around to make sure it doesn't go out again, promising it's not a problem. "Too hot to try and sleep without some air." You offer him some leftover pizza before joining him on the couch, a good distance away because it's too hot. Yet somehow you end up with your feet resting in his lap and his fingers massaging out the soreness from wearing heels all day. (Midnight Maintenance can be found here)
OCIA!Alex - Texts you even when he's gone overseas. He's polite in his timing, making sure he doesn't disturb you when you should be sleeping or at work. You are less restrained, finding you stare at the phone waiting for the next message like an impatient teenager. You tell yourself it's because he's the only real friend you've got around and it's lonely when he's gone. Then when he sends you an audio message you nearly fall out of your chair listening to his silky smooth voice as he tells you about his day.
OCIA!Alex - Smirks to himself in his bunk at night when you start sending him pictures. Innocent ones of course. Things you saw on your walk, sighing in frustration at another video meeting at work, the dinner you made (and didn't burn!), and the weird neighbor downstairs who only checks her mail at night. But then a not so innocent one pops on his phone after you've had a few glasses of wine.
OCIA!Alex - Avoids your father's questions as he tries to probe and see just what your relationship is. He had tried you when he saw your phone buzz with a text from Alex when he stopped by. You maintained you were just friends, that Alex was a nice guy but too old for you. That was, if friends sent lingerie and shower pictures to one another...and instructed the other just what to do when they were feeling particularly needy and lonely.
OCIA!Alex - Doesn't let your dad know he took a flight back two days early, and neither do you. He barely makes it into your apartment before you jump him and insist the uniform stays on. Those two extra days are spent solely at your apartment before Alex reports back to your dad, who is none the wiser. Even if Alex has hickeys all over his neck and his clothes reek of your perfume.
OCIA!Alex - Has to play nice when your father has an award ceremony and he insists you meet a few of his friend's sons. Your father determined you've been alone for too long, not enough friends, and is trying to get you back out there. He doesn't see Alex staring down each man as if they are his next target. Nor does he see the two of you slip away before his speech.
OCIA!Alex - Is unimpressed when you start spending time with others, men your own age in particular. You insist it's to keep your dad's suspicions away because he's been asking very leading questions, he's not dumb. And also, you had both agreed that whatever this was it was only a hookup, no commitment. Alex had his job and you wouldn't risk your father's ire.
OCIA!Alex - Agrees, two can play this game. He starts making some other 'friends' of his own and grins as he notices the worry in your tone that he's turned the tables. Jealously is a young person's game and he knows exactly how he feels about you, it's just getting you to admit it yourself. Your father seems a bit more relaxed that the two of you seem to spending less time together.
OCIA!Alex - Is sent out on a particularly long assignment in Europe. After three weeks of being gone and radio silent he knows he won this battle of wills when he gets a notification of an airfare purchase. He's hardly shocked to find you waiting outside of his hotel room he booked under his fake name. You are your father's daughter after all.
OCIA!Alex - Tells you to let him worry about your father as you lay sprawled on top of him. He's dealt with bigger issues from smaller targets before. You attempt to talk about it more but he silences you as he rolls you under him.
OCIA!Alex - Has a conversation with your father. (We're not going to give away the ending here 😉)
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#fanfic#cod#cod fanfic#my fic#fanfiction#alex keller fanfic#alex keller cod#cod alex#alex cod#alex keller x reader#alex keller x you#alex keller smut#OCIA!Alex
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Insecurities (Flufftober 2023 Day 11)
Pairing: shinichiro sano x female reader
WC: 1254
Warnings: light angst? shinichiro is in his feels, hurt/comfort
Summary: shinichiro is feeling insecure about your relationship
Note: i just wanna give this man a hug so bad
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shinichiro liked you. He liked you so much that he was almost certain that it was love. You were his first serious relationship- actually, you were his first ever relationship. After twenty rejections in a row from other women, he thought it was a miracle that you said yes. You two have been together for a couple of months now and things have been going great. They have been the best months of his life.
Then why did he feel so depressed? Truth be told, he felt like he wasn’t good enough for you. He believed you were so far out of his league and you deserved better. It was something his friends would always joke about and he couldn’t help but begin to believe that they were right.
His thoughts became darker as they started circulating in his brain, making his insecurities grow.
‘You’re so lame.’
‘What a total loser.’
‘She’s only dating you because she feels bad for you.’
That one really bothered him the most because his friends had told you about his past experience (or lack of) with women. At first, people thought Shinichiro had paid you to pretend to be his girlfriend out of desperation, but when they found out there was no such arrangement, they jumped to the conclusion that it was out of pity.
It all came to a head three days ago when you two had gone to a party for one of your friends. Even Shinichiro could see the chemistry between you and your friend was undeniable. It was a huge blow to his ego how you just laughed the guy’s obvious flirting off instead of telling the dude to leave you alone. Like, sure, you informed your friend that you had a boyfriend, but your friend just jokingly said “He doesn’t look like much competition.”
You left pretty shortly after that, apologizing to Shin for your friend’s behavior repeatedly. Logically, Shinichiro knew you wouldn’t cheat on him. He trusted you wholeheartedly. But it still bugged him.
Instead of communicating all of this, however, he started withdrawing himself and spiraled into a depression. His texts with you turned to one-word answers and he used the excuse that he was busy as he locked himself into the shop, drowning himself in work to keep him busy. He was currently there right now, he didn’t know what time it was, he just knew it was late.
When you entered the back where he was fiddling with a motorcycle, he didn’t even light up like he usually did. Instead, his frown deepened.
“What are you doing here?” Shinichiro asked bluntly.
“Mikey told me you haven’t been feeling well,” You explained, “I thought I would check in. I brought takeout, it’s in the office.”
“M’fine. Not hungry.” He mumbled, continuing to work on the bike. You continued to observe him, picking up on his tense demeanor right away.
“You don’t have to lie to me. I’m here if you need to talk, ya know,” You pointed out.
Shinichiro sighed, “I know.”
You pulled up a short stool to sit on and you nudged his shoulder. “Come on, if you keep your feelings bottled up it’ll fester and make everything worse.”
He sighed again and stood up from his seat to move away from you. You watched him go over to his tool cabinet and put away his tools. Your boyfriend stood there for a moment, and you could tell he was fighting himself over something.
“Why are you with me?” He finally asked. His voice was so quiet you almost missed it.
“Because I love you,” You responded immediately.
Shinichiro turned to you looking upset. “But why? You’re so pretty and smart… and I’m just a loser.”
“Don’t talk about the love of my life like that,” You interrupted, “Don’t let your brain lie to you.”
“But it’s true,” He argued, “Everyone says it.”
Silence fell over you both as you tried to think of something to say. You were just so surprised that he felt that way. Couldn’t you see how much you adored him?
“If it’s any consolation, I think you’re pretty great,” You told him with a gentle tone, hoping to make him feel a little better.
Normally Shinichiro would be over the moon at this revelation, but his mind was just being so loud. So instead he scoffed bitterly and muttered, “You’re just saying that.”
A look of hurt crossed your face and you stood up, coming closer until you were standing right in front of him.
“I’m not lying, Shin. I think you’re awesome!” You insisted. Then you lifted your hand and started counting on your fingers, “You’re charismatic, handsome, funny, super caring, and passionate. I mean, what’s not to love? I’m really lucky that I get to call you my boyfriend, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Tears started to well up in Shinichiro’s eyes. He wanted to believe you, he really did. He could see the sincerity in your eyes and you’ve never lied to him before. So why couldn’t he believe it?
Your gaze softened as the first teardrop slid down his cheek. His lip quivered and he dropped his head as he hastily rubbed his eyes to stop the waterworks, but the tears kept falling. It made him beyond frustrated, he felt like such a loser crying in front of you like this.
But you didn’t think any less of him. Watching him cry and look so broken made your own eyes water. You wished he could see himself the way you did. Shinichiro truly was an amazing guy to you. He was a genius when it came to motorbikes and the way he genuinely cared about his siblings and friends always warmed your heart. You loved every single thing about him and wouldn’t change him for the world.
In a flurry of emotions, you surged forward and flung your arms around him, causing him to pause. You squeezed him tighter, hoping you could convey how much you loved him with such a simple gesture.
“I love you so much, Shin. You’re so special to me and I’ll remind you every single day if I have to,” You promised, burying your head in his chest.
His eyes widened and he was certain you could hear his heart hammering in his chest. After the shock wore off, he quickly returned the hug. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, feeling more relaxed as your embrace released endorphins in his brain. God he really loved you.
“Thank you,” Shinichiro said quietly, “I love you too.”
You pulled away slightly to look at him, “I mean it, I’ll always be here for you. Just talk to me and I’ll help. We’re partners and partners communicate with each other; we work through it together. Promise you’ll start doing that?”
“I promise,” His lips tilted up in a soft smile.
You then held up your pinky to him, “Pinky promise?”
It was so childish, but he found it endearing, so he linked his pinky with yours and nodded in determination. With pinkies still intertwined, you leaned in for a soft kiss which he happily responded to.
You kept your promise and stayed by his side, beating back his insecurities with a stick. You quite literally reminded him every single day how much he meant to you, and he was sure to put in just as much effort. It didn’t matter what anyone else said, Shinichiro loved you and you loved him.
#shinichiro sano x reader#shinichiro x reader#shinchiro sano#sano shinichiro#shinichiro sano fluff#sano shinichiro x reader#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers fluff#tokyo revengers x reader#x reader#fluff#fanfiction#flufftober#kace writes#tokrev
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Black and (Fluro) Yellow
🕷️ln4 x reader
🕷️ lando if he was spider-man
🕷️warnings: panic attack, kinda angst idk notes: hill the fluro suit had me thinking and this
🕷️ a/n: this is barely edited and kinda bad but enjoy!! <33 also im trying to write more so gimme ideas
The final bell rang through your ears as the school day ended and the bustle of the weekend was underway. You packed up your books, waving a polite goodbye to your teacher and made your way to your locker. You felt a pinch in your side and you swung your head to find your boyfriend, Lando looking at you with a goofy smile. “Hey where did you come from!?” you smile up at him while you continue to empty your belongings into their home for the weekend. “Calculus, i swear if i have to listen to that man talk about quadratics for another minute i'm going to lose more brain cells than gain.” he complains. “Well at least now we get to go and do nothing.” you say as you wrap your arms around his waist and place your chin on his chest. “About that..” he sighs and you know what's coming.
He's been blowing you off for weeks. It started with little things such as not saying goodbye before leaving school or not seeing each other between class periods. But now he's been completely ditching you. He refuses to tell you why and you’re starting to worry if you’ve done something wrong. You deflate as you prepare to ask him what the excuse this time is when your phone chimes in your pocket. “Oh it's laur..” you click the link your friend sent, you gasp “what the fuck”. Lando looks at you puzzled as you flip your phone around to show him.
It's a video of the new vigilante known as “spiderman” beating a man to a pulp in some alleyway, throwing punch after punch until the man was on the ground bloody and bruised. Once the beating was done Spiderman is shown swinging away before the video cuts off. “Did he just kill that guy-” “No. he didn't.” Lando cuts you off quickly. The slightest clench in his jaw and tense in his shoulders did not go unnoticed. “Well how can you know for sure…he was hitting him pretty hard.” you counter. “You can see the guy moving before he swings away.” he says firmly, as if he knew this as a fact. Spiderman showed up about a month ago, earlier sightings of him have consisted of him helping cats down from trees and escorting the elderly across the road. The public had grown to love him and his friendly neighborhood activities. But recently, he's been violent and the city has been working to catch him. Unfortunately with the identity of the spider being unknown, the police have come back empty handed. Lando gently takes your hands into his as he changes the topic “Look, I'm sorry but Max wants me to help him with his physics homework and he's got a test tomorrow. So I will see you tomorrow okay?” he says softly. He can see the hurt in your eyes as you give him a slight nod and a quick kiss before walking off towards the bus station.
Lando hates how he's been treating you these past weeks. Blowing you off for shitty excuses that he knows are shitty but he can't stomach telling you the true reason why. He's watching you walk off as he feels his best friend clap him on the back of his neck “you ready for tonight boss?” Max says in his ear. He notices Lando's stare and follows his eyes to where they've been trained to follow. “No lando we cant think like this” shaking his head. “You'll see her tomorrow.” he firmly reassures his friend who's beginning to question the late night activities he's been doing for the past month. “I'm not sure about that max..” he sighs “i cant keep watching her deflate everytime i cancel on her” he says quietly. “You could just tell her-” “NO.” Lando shouts, shooting his head towards max. Telling you would be like pouring sea salt into an open wound. Lando would rather give up everything, than tell you the truth about where he is at night. “Okay okay! Don't tell her, but either way..you're going out tonight.” Max says, putting his hands up in surrender as he begins to walk towards the student parking lot to his car. He turns around towards Lando who's still stood next to your locker staring in the direction you walked off in. “you coming or what?” After a beat of contemplation, with a heavy sigh, Lando makes his way to Max's car.
-----------------------------------------
You were sat on your bed, doing homework on your ipad. You Glanced at the time, double taking the clock sat on your nightstand when you see the number it read. Holy shit. you’ve been here since you got home at 4pm…it was now 6:30 pm. You jump off your bed and quickly check your phone, expecting a million texts and calls from Lando wondering what you're doing and complaining about Max's inability to understand the basics of physics.
Nothing. Not a single text.
You feel your heart drop. He hasn't texted you in 5 hours when he asked you to meet before you left school for the week. The tears prick your eyes as you check your other notifications seeing nothing from your boyfriend. Could he be cheating? No. he would never do that to you. But would he?
Your thoughts race through your mind as the panic begins to set into your chest causing your breathing to become uneven. Your vision starts to swim and your phone falls to the floor, your arms going numb. You hear your mom call your name for dinner but the noise goes in your left ear and immediately out the right. As if you have been submerged underwater. You feel your legs give out and you land ass first at the foot of your bed.
The loud thud heard from the kitchen causes your mom to shout for you again to pulse check.. When nothing was heard back she rushed upstairs to the source of the noise. When she finds you in hysterics she's in front of you instantly, cupping your face to wipe the tears. She helps you steady your breathing and bring you back down from your panic attack. “What's got you so worked up sweetheart?” she softly asks and she moves to your side. You explain everything that's been going on with Lando recently. She thinks for a moment before she speaks up “how about, we get some food in you. Then I drop you off at his place and you two can talk this out.” she offers. You give her a small smile, nodding as the two of you get up and make your way downstairs to eat dinner.
-----
You stare at the apartment door marked with the 4 before you bring your hand up to knock. The door opens revealing landos Mom, Cisca. “Oh hi honey what brings you here?” she asks, letting you inside the apartment. “I was hoping Lan was home.” She gives you a sympathetic smile, shaking her head. “No not yet, but he should be soon. How about you go wait in his room for him and I'll bring you a cup of tea.” you nod weakly and wander towards Landos room as Cisca moves to the kitchen. You leave the door ajar and lie on the bottom bunk of his bed, eyes darting around the room, flashing memories of the past 2 years that have been written in the walls. You turn your body towards the wall snuggling into the comfort of Landos smell embedded into the sheets you’ve spent countless hours in. your eyes start to feel heavy as sleep takes over your body. deciding a small nap while you wait couldn't hurt, you let your mind drift off.
-----
You’re woken by the sound of the window opening. finding that you're still alone in lando’s bed you sit up hoping it's him just opening up the window. You look over to find the window open, yet no one next to it. You think nothing of it due to the wind and sit up to reach for the cup of tea Cisca left you on the nightstand while you slept. You sip your tea sat on the bunk as your eye catches a figure on the ceiling. Yes, the ceiling. You see that black and fluorescent yellow suit you’ve seen all over social media for the last month crawling around on the ceiling of your boyfriend's bedroom. What the fuck is spiderman doing in Landos bedroom?! You thought to yourself as the man gently lowered himself onto the floor and reached for his mask, removing it.
And that's when you saw him.
Those curls you run your fingers through whenever you get the chance to. Those curls you help tame when he takes his hat off after a long day. Those curls you love with your whole heart. Those curls which belonged to the boy you loved who was currently standing with his back to you, wearing spidermans suit.
You gasp, causing lando to look up and freeze. He doesnt turn around to face you, he knows who he's going to see. He knows it's over. The moment he's been dreading since that spider bit him that night. He's going to have to explain his past month and a half to the one person he didn't want knowing about this. The one girl he wanted to keep protected from this new hobby he's got himself tangled up in. and yet here he was frozen, staring at the picture frame sitting on his dresser.
The picture of him and you from the first time you went to the London eye. The picture is you two at the top with Landos hands around your waist and your arms swung around his neck. Your faces are squished together wearing the brightest smiles on your faces. Looking back, Lando wishes he could stay in that moment forever, frozen in time. But he knows that can't happen.
He slowly turns around to face you and look you in the eyes. Your lips slightly parted due to shock and hair slightly messed up from your nap. The mug slips through your fingers and falls to the floor shattering and spilling the lukewarm tea. “Shit” Lando whispers as he springs to action, grabbing the towel from the back of his door to soak up the tea, he looks up to you “are you okay? No cuts?” you're frozen, unable to speak, staring at him in that suit. All you can do is nod at him while he gently picks up your feet, placing them loosely on his bed while he cleans up the broken mug. You pick at your fingernails anxiously while you wait for him to finish cleaning.
After a few minutes he sits down next to you, freshly changed into a hoodie and sweatpants. Your eyes are trained on your lap where your hands sit pulling on the thread of the hoodie that you’re wearing. After what feels like hours of silence you’ve had enough “why didn't you tell me?.” you demand, you want answers. You want to know how your boyfriend and who you considered to be the love of your life became the person who you see brutally abusing people in alleyways. He turns to look at you, eyes full of regret. He opens his mouth to answer you but you cut him off, cupping his face. “fuck what happened?!” you stand up looking for a first aid kit when lando stands up to stop you, grabbing your hands “baby, baby stop it's okay max already helped me clean it and it’ll heal by the mornin-” “MAX KNOWS??!??!” you shout a little too loud for lando’s liking. He puts his hand over your mouth, shushing you so you don't wake his mother. “yes max knows because he was with me when it happened” he explained calmly, hoping his emotions will radiate onto you.
He slowly releases your mouth and you sit back down “are you gonna let me explain to you how this happened now?” he raises an eyebrow waiting for your answer. You give him a nod to continue and he takes a deep breath.
He began to explain how one night walking home from your house with max a radioactive spider bit him. He explains how Zac Brown, one of the richest men in the country, approached him and helped him understand his powers and the new responsibilities that come with them. He even was the person to make Landos suit for him.
“I'm really sorry that I’ve been a shit boyfriend recently, i never wanted you to get caught in this” he says, playing with your hands. You can't help but giggle “Here I was thinking you were cheating on me yet you were out fighting crime.” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead before resting it against your own “never in a million years my love” he says. “How about we get some sleep?” He smiles, squeezing your hands intertwined with his. Agreeing that this conversion should happen with a good night's rest. The two of you move to lie down in Landos bed cuddled against one another. Your head rests on Lando’s chest with his arms wrapped around you like you'd disappear the second he let go. As sleep beings to take over you hear a faint “i love you” coming from the boy beside you. You look up to see him already meeting your eyes “i love you too” you smile, kissing his chest before falling asleep with him safe and sound.
#lando norris fanfic#lando x reader#ln4#lando norris fluff#lando norris x reader#ln4 x reader#lando imagine
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Could you write the Dateables protecting MC? :)
Dateables Protecting MC
WARNING: Violence, Spoilers for all the characters.
DIAVOLO
You're supposed to be safe here, Diavolo affirms.
He had R.A.D. established right in his domain, in his capital, so that demons could be civilised (at least according to human rules of morality) and some familiarity could be achieved.
Every professor in this institution had been nitpicked, each student noted on paper. Appropriate measures taken to ensure safety—no fighting, no ragging, no running around unnecessarily—but what can you expect from demons.
It's hard to keep nature bound in chains.
What Diavolo didn't fathom was that some demons would have the temerity to lay a hand on the human exchange student.
His eyebrows furrow as he stops, a reticent smile still on his face. The students in front of him freeze; in the middle of having their academic documents signed by him.
"Please excuse me," He says, looking down at the demons. "I have a meeting to attend right now. Give the documents to Barbatos, and I'll stamp them by tomorrow." The students nod, bowing before leaving the room.
Although he should wait at least long enough so that they are out of sight to avoid suspicion, Diavolo can't wait, won't wait—
The safety perimeters around the campus have been breached.
Normally Barbatos or Lucifer would have taken care of such a situation, but Lucifer is back home and his butler is currently torturing a painfully arrogant noble in the Underground Labyrinth.
And it's Diavolo's magic which had formed the protective barriers, so that the Prince would know the affairs going around his academy. If it were ordinary demons he would have ignored the warnings and let the Council Members handle it, but it's a human which has breached the boundaries.
And there's only one mortal human in the Devildom. Solomon would have teleported, not blatantly ignored the infernal magic in the air.
The students lingering in the hallway step aside when they see their Prince walking with a sense of urgency to him. Diavolo knows they will gossip about him later, rumours will spread, but when they have not?
He only hopes you are unharmed.
He rushes past the gardens, disturbing the soil and the plants there. Devildom canaries, which normally would have produced the melody that the President of the Student Council loved to listen to are absent.
From what he's taught and what he knows, silence is ominous.
The forest behind the academy constricts on itself, as if wanting to hide away itself from outsiders. Still, Diavolo ignores, and forces the branches to wring away from each other and for the dense foliage to give way.
Or else he will burn the place to the ground.
You stumble on the the uneven ground, finding that the wind isn't enough to protect you against fire. Damn those demon, you grit your teeth and resume enforcing your boundary, careful to not any of the flames singe your clothes, so flammable.
The being in front of you sneers before breaking the boundaries that you had just enforced.
Fuck.
Hastily you deflect the demon's attack, but the spell drains much of your human energy, and you fall on the stones below.
"I'd suggest you go back from whichever came you crept out from," You mutter, noticing the soil that clings to the demon's hands and legs. "Besides, things might not end well for you."
"Says the pathetic human dragging themselves on the earth."
He advances further, and your heartbeat quickens when you realise just how sharp his nails are. It reminds you of talons, like that one time you watched a human-world documentary with your demons about an eagle tearing into the flesh of a fish with their talons.
He swipes at you, and you manage to get up and turn in time to avoid a lethal blow, but you underestimate his agility.
The demon's foot collides into your back, and the force of it makes you fall flat on the ground. You groan, the pain intensified with your head banging on one of the rocks.
"Weak, pathetic human," He hums above you, and when you open your mouth to cast an incantation that will make your attacker be thrown two-hundred leagues into the vast forest, he steps on your leg.
Fuck. It hurts, it hurts, it fucking hurts—
There's a weight above you, and the fiend has now placed himself above you, and unfortunately for you demon biology dictates that demons be faster, stronger and heavier.
"Should have known better than to wander into the forest all alone," He mutters, and you feel his breath on your neck. "Lost, little lamb. Foolish human."
He sits up, his weight constricting your chest, rendering you unable to breathe properly.
"Where did your pacts go now, huh?" The demon taunts, scraping his nails against your back, and it draws blood. You hiss. "Where did the Avatars go now?"
Your hands come in contact with rocks. Small, jagged pieces, and you don't waste a moment further before throwing it above you.
From what you can deduce, one of the pieces has hit him right in an eye, given the way he spits and curses. "Insolent human!" A curse, and the sound of a snarl makes your blood run cold.
All words leave you in that moment. You freeze, expecting teeth to tear into your throat, but instead you feel the demon being hauled off your back.
"And to think one of my nobles would betray me this way."
A familiar voice, and when you are able to turn and be grateful to be able to breathe properly once again, you look up and see the fiend hanging in the air.
Diavolo, you can't help but mumble.
The demon's face is starting to turn pale, given the way the Prince is gripping him by his neck effortlessly. He struggles and kicks, but it's futile.
You've never seen Diavolo so angry before. The calm veneer he usually had has disappeared, replaced by furrowed brows and an anger that makes you tremble in fear.
Even the forest, which had seemed so constricting and so secretive earlier has opened up, as if for the rightful heir of the Devildom. Or maybe that's just his magic.
"You dare harm them?" A threat and a question, and you think you hear bones cracking.
But then Diavolo throws him down, rendering such a blow that the demon is rendered unconscious, lying haphazardly on the forest floor.
The Prince breathes in deeply, as if trying to contain his anger, and then he turns to you.
"Did he hurt you?"
"Was about to," You say, getting up with Diavolo's help. "Thanks," You say, as if it's a normal day in your life to be attacked by demons, but hey, that's what your life was in the House of Lamentation when you first came here.
You can't be blamed for being indifferent to some violence and threats on your life.
"How did you find me?" You ask as he checks you over for any injuries that may have gone unnoticed by you. "I thought I was sneaky."
"At the wrong time and at the wrong place." Diavolo breathes out, and you notice how his shoulders sag. "Certainly, a forest of all places to cause mischief? You could have been injured or killed."
"I know, Dia, I know," You say, dusting off dirt from your clothes. "I thought I was safe here."
"Well, a forest is not exactly a safe place to be in," He chastises, but places a hand on your shoulder all the same. "Why didn't you call for the brothers?"
You turn away, embarassed.
"Didn't want to appear weak," You pout, not quite able to meet his eyes. "But I think I should have—"
"What could have happened to you if I hadn't come on time?" Diavolo questions, and his tone is serious. Gone is the friendliness you're accustomed to from him. "Why did you sneak away?"
"I'm sorry. I just wanted a moment to myself, and there are so many restrictions as to where I can go about in the Devildom, I just wanted some peace." You apologise, hugging the demon. "I'll be more careful next time."
Diavolo breathes out, and then there are his own arms enveloping you, until you're pressed against him.
"I apologise too," A sincere apology, squeezing you softly.
There's only so much Diavolo can do too. He can enforce rules, regulations, punishments, but in the end, you can't change the perceptions of others so easily now, can you?
And Diavolo wants to be a just ruler. Unlike his father, who spurred by grief and hatred made his son what he is today, but Diavolo did not turn out like his father. The Prince doesn't want to repeat the sins of his predecessors.
He will work towards unifying the three realms, he affirms. He will work towards a world where you can roam around safe, where he and you can exist peacefully.
Diavolo vows as he holds you close.
And blame it on nature, but the demon can't help but drift his gaze towards the unconscious demon on the floor. Given lex talionis in Devildom law, it is only fair that a special chamber in the Underground Labyrinth be prepared for the perpetrator of such a grave offence.
BARBATOS
When the butler had embarked upon another pilgrimage to the port market, he was expecting to purchase some fresh tapir for dinner.
The Young Master has expressed a desire for it, and so went Barbatos to the market. And again, it gives him an excuse to procure more goods. The demon walks and walks, past Majolish with its alluring glitter and R.A.D. with its elaborate pillars. Students would be having their clubs around this time, and night shops being set up. He navigates past them with the ease of a man who has traversed these routes since millennia, and he would know them blind.
He knows he has reach the market when the scent of the sea greets him.
And like a man on a mission, the demon buys fresh tapir first. Freshly cut and stored, and takes care to avoid bumping into the other demons around. They know better than to anger their Prince's butler, with his enigmatic smile and polite mannerisms.
There's a special side devoted to human-world spices. Cinnamon, star anise, cumin, mustard, bay leaves.....and the list goes on.
Barbatos expects a crowd consisting of demons from various layers. He doesn't expect you.
You'd almost blend in, if not for the malice radiating from the lessor demon that is gripping your wrist with such tenacity that it is sure to leave bruises. Your expression is one of panic, brows furrowed and eyes widened, and the demon's a leer.
"What the hell," You hiss, attempting to pry yourself out of the iron grip the demon has you in. "Can't anyone in the Devildom just let me live in peace?!"
"Can't ever catch the human alone with those Avatars around. Always thought your soul would be delicious, and the fear radiating from you makes it even more delectable."
"I think you've had enough for today."
The demon turns their head in surprise, not having anticipated being called out in a crowd. And the smug expression on their face disappears when they realise that they've been caught by none other than Barbatos. The expression on their face changes briefly before being replaced by a calm veneer.
"Ah, Barbatos, should have known you were found of human goods so much."
"It would be in your interest to let go of them right now." A threat, spoken with a smile.
The being in front of him wanes briefly; but doesn't let go. You focus your gaze on Barbatos instead, and watch the man for any signal to act.
"And what if I don't?" The demon scowls, baring their canines. "What if I want to feast upon the human's soul?"
The butler smiles. "I'd like to see you try."
You realise that the market has now turned silent—the usual cacophony of vendors and customers bargaining has disappeared—replaced by an eerie silence. Demons are watching, and this situation puts more pressure on Barbatos and the demon to act. There's a circle separating you three from the crowd, and you think you hear a camera shutter going off somewhere.
It would be all over Devilgram by now.
When you catch the butler's eye, he nods, and you get the signal to act. You utter the words under your breath, and by the demon hears them, its too late.
".....spirit of wind, protect me."
They fall flat on the ground, an invisible barrier now separating you both.
"Fucking hell," They groan, getting up. "The human's more bold than I thought, huh?"
A clawed hand reveals itself, and the demon pounces.
You flinch, but find that the attack is not meant for you, but Barbatos.
....He's as cool as ever.
"Cat got your tongue?" He asks, having successfully thrown the demon on the ground with a swipe of his hand. "You were so arrogant before."
They attempt to stand, but they aren't able to. Their legs won't support their weight, and they're trembling so much—was that a paralysing spell?
The crowd watches, and no doubt that the demon is being recorded, or going live on the net right now, for everyone to see them humiliated. And it provides solid evidence of their crimes.
Demons know to stay out of the way of those more powerful. But some are foolish, undoubtedly so, and hence must learn their place.
It sometimes entails choking on bitter medicine.
There's a crackle of magic in the air, you recognise, after having been through countless lessons with Solomon. Something powerful yet subtle.
Barbatos.
Ah, so that is a result of his transformation into his demon form.
"You will be punished suitably, as your Lord deems fitting," He declares, letting his tail whip around in the air. "And the consequences will be severe."
His demon form is meant to bring his point home. No threats against you will be taken lightly. They will be met with the gravest of punishments, and sanctioned by the de-facto ruler of the Devildom.
"But I'll leave you here for a while—to ponder on your transgressions."
The demon can only protest, scream, cry, beg, but Barbatos will not budge. And even before they fear Barbatos, they fear public humiliation and punishment by the Avatars. They've heard of the time when the seven lords had strangled a group of incubi at the academy effortlessly, and it his perhaps his bad luck that they happen to be near Ristorante Six. Which is reserved for an event for the members of the student council today. How unfortunate.
"Did they hurt you?" Barbatos asks, expression neutral.
"I'm just a little shaken-up, that's all." You smile, attempting to convince the demon. "Couldn't help but feel a bit bad for the demon. Isn't leaving them like that too harsh?"
"Oh, not at all," He chuckles. "We demons are quite resilient, you see. What a fall from an eight floor building may do to a human body will only result in a few scratches or bruises at worst."
So that explains Lucifer's punishments...
"I think we can leave them, in that case," You declare, massaging your forehead. "They were being creepy."
"And it shall happen no more."
"I know, Barb, because of you." You say, and he only smiles. "Now, I think you should continue with your shopping. It's getting late—what are you looking at? Go away and leave us alone!" You address the crowd which gapes at you both, and they reluctantly disperse, a murmur passing through the demons.
"Would you like to help me with some of the groceries?" Barbatos asks.
There has already been one timeline where they all lost you—to hatred and anger. Quickly replaced by another you. But that doesn't help the nightmares that sometimes plague them all, even Barbatos is not spared.
And if there is even a single possibility where you are happy and safe in the Devildom, the demon will give all he has to make it into a reality.
Because he has grown to love you.
SIMEON
When you don't turn up for your promised sleepover, Simeon begins to get worried.
He thinks you're late, at first, having your time jeopardised by one of the brothers. Maybe Mammon roped you into one of his schemes again, and now Lucifer would be chasing after you both. The thought makes him giggle, for that is quite possible.
Or maybe you would have been tired and have fallen asleep.
Simeon begins to fret when the clock strikes nine, and he's just finished making himself a cup of hellfire rose tea. The beverage is supposed to soothe his nerves, but it does little to calm the growing restless in his mind.
He sends you a message, but you don't reply.
And when even Lucifer, the one demon that is the most level-headed out of all his brothers denies having seen you at home, stating that you had left an hour earlier, Simeon begins to grow panicked.
But he forces himself to calm down, and then the two brothers no more set out to search for you.
He picks up his cape and sets out, asking Solomon to take care of Luke for the time being, and keep an eye out if you come home in his absence.
"Don't tell Luke yet," He mutters, and Solomon nods. Simeon knows the sorcerer will search for you through his own unconventional methods.
His mind retraces the way to the House of Lamentation, the cobblestone slippery due to the recent rains. There's a slight chill in the air, and so the angel wraps his cape around himself tighter.
Living in the Devildom means that his eyes have grown accustomed to the perpetual darkness, so unlike that of the Celestial Realm. Even now so, Simeon is aware that he's far too bright for demon's eyes. It makes him more vulnerable to dangers in this realm, but Simeon doesn't care.
He's got no time to waste. One hand still clutches his D.D.D. in hopes of you calling him.
Flitting through these streets aimlessly makes him restless.
And that is a feeling that Simeon already had enough of.
A twig breaks nearby, and the angel's eyes dart towards the dense foliage, towards the forest that leads to the other levels in the Devildom. It's a foreign place for him, and he doesn't know whether he'll be even to able get inside.
But he walks in anyways.
Just like he did millennia ago, when the ground seemed to shake and Michael stormed the hallways, demanding to know who had freed Lilith from the dungeon.
And he'd refused to participate in the war which had led to their sister's demise.
Why must it be a sin to love.
Even now, when Simeon steals a glance at Celestial weapons, it seems to him that they reek of sin, stained with the blood of their kin.
He forces himself to swallow the lump in his throat and continue on the unfamiliar path, and stops abruptly. The earth, dampened by rain, has fresh footprints.
Simeon narrows his eyes.
You open your eyes groggily.
It was a bad idea to let yourself go to Purgatory hall alone, but you had managed to convince Lucifer after half an hour of bribing him with vinyl records and Demonus that the demon had finally agreed to let you go, but on the condition that you would keep sending him texts to assure him that you were safe.
Ugh, after this he won't even let you step one foot out of the house without himself or his brothers.
Bless their hearts, but a human also needs alone time.
You'd managed to make it halfway to Purgatory Hall, but then you'd inhaled something in the air. It made you light-headed, and the last thing you remember was footsteps rapidly advancing before you blanked out.
You let your eyes wander. It's a forest, but its not the one you're familiar with in the Devildom. The environment is strange, and it leaves an unsettling feeling churning in the pit of your stomach.
You can fend off any animals here, that's for sure. But again, the most dangerous beings in a forest are those that walk on two feet.
"Whosoever kidnapped me, it was a bad idea."
You say out loud, hoping they hear. When no reply comes, you continue. "I was supposed to be warm and comfortable right now, but you've succeeded in hindering my plans. Loser."
"Shut your whining."
The voice sounds like the rumble of stones falling down a cliff, and it hurts your ears. You finally let yourself get up, dusting your clothes from the soil that clings to them.
Something tilts your chin upwards, and you shriek.
"What the fuck?!" You exclaim, trying to push off what seems like an invisible wall from you. You can't see the offending demon, they seem to have some special sort of abilities—being invisible—and it does not have good intentions in mind.
And, to make matters worse, your cheek is bleeding, from where it had clawed at you.
"First time I'm seeing a human here," It croaks, from somewhere around you, and you can't find out where the voice is coming from. "Knew the Prince had a programme, but he never included the other layers of the Devildom in it."
It almost sounds like the demon is fuming.
"Are we not his subjects?" He seethes, and something lunges at you. It grabs your throat, and you're grateful for the spell you had from Satan to defend yourself.
You hastily mutter the words, as much as they allow you, until the demon is sent flying back, or what you presume, given there's no longer invisible hands around your throat. A shudder escapes your body, and it brings back memories you would not want to relive again.
"Whatever vendetta you have against your Prince, sort it out with him. Not me." You cough, your voice hoarse. "Otherwise I'll be forced to attack you."
"You?" It drawls on, seemingly amused, and you prepare yourself for another attempt. "A human?"
Then they're awfully silent again.
You hate it.
You can't tell where the demon is, and there are no streetlights here, and the forest is so unfamiliar, and with the adrenaline running through your veins, it does little to help you.
A twig breaks somewhere, and you whip your head towards the source.
There's a guttural roar, and then your surroundings seem to brighten up all of a sudden, so much that it forces you to shut your eyes. You hear leaves rustling, a shuffle taking place, and you think you hear arcane murmurings—
You force yourself to open your eyes.
And your conscience did not prepare you for this sight.
There's a demon on the floor. Finally visible, you sigh in relief, but you can't make out their features. And Simeon stands over it.
His back is turned towards you, so you can't see his expression.
"You dared to harm them?" Simeon utters, and the words have a menacing tone to it. "I will not tolerate this."
The demon shrinks backwards, as much as their hands and legs let them ago, trying to back away and away and away from an angel that radiates wrath.
"You deserve to be punished."
Angels were created to do God's bidding. Protect the righteous, execute judgement and serve.
Justice is blind.
And so is anger sometimes.
Maybe other angels would have been forgiving, you think. Perhaps Raphael would have let a rain of spears rain down on the fool and present them to Diavolo, or maybe Michael would serve Divine Judgement.
But you are a human amongst demons.
And there is an angel in front of you.
An angel who has eons of wrath bottled up in him.
But he's not all-forgiving.
You can't see what happening, but Simeon bends down to whisper something into the demon's ear, and you can hear the fellow whimpering at his words.
He stands up again, and turns his gaze towards you.
"Close your eyes, please," Simeon says, and you hear him snarl, but you choose to ignore it all the same.
He's never going to be the same after this, you conclude, as the demon's screams reach a crescendo. You know the angel is on the precipice of falling.
Seraphim to archangel. Archangel to an ordinary human. Human to demon?
Is it love that will lead Simeon to fall, or the very ground on which he had established his angel-hood?
Wrath chokes you, makes the air thick and foreboding. It's alike Satan's rage, which spills over, and results in destruction. But the fear radiating from Simeon is something else, ancient anger which has been left to simmer for too long and has turned poisonous.
You had closed your eyes. Like a good lamb.
But you opened them too soon.
"Little lamb," He whispers, helping you stand. "Are you alright? There's blood on your cheek."
You think its guilt on Simeon's face. He's refusing to look at you now, choosing to instead stare at the moon which paints you both monochrome.
"I'm sorry," You say, trying your best to lighten the mood. "But thank you. I'm okay, it doesn't hurt."
"Still....you don't mind seeing me like this?" He hesitates, words trailing off in a whisper. Doubt fills Simeon's heart, but when you hold his hand so gently he caves in.
"Let's go home."
You don't tell Simeon that you saw white feathers turn black. You'll love him all the same—angel, demon or human.
SOLOMON
Maybe Solomon has a penchant for sensing danger.
Blame it on being protective, but he knew he could not stand back and watch you venture into Siren beach alone. He knows it is an important assignment, a vital part of your training to become a renowned sorcerer under his tutelage. Solomon knows you are worthy, knows you are formidable, but you're still learning.
And he would hate to see you hurt.
So when the protective charm he had placed on you secretly breaks, Solomon drops the vial of hellfire mushroom essence on the floor and stains his carpet.
He curses in a language that human ears have not heard in a very long time, mutters a spell under his breath and creates a portal.
Long ago, he would have checked twice before entering any newly-manifested portal. But he learnt and learnt and made mistakes, and now, Solomon can recite the incantation in his sleep.
His room blurs and disappears and the very air seems to change, and then the sorcerer lands on sand.
Solomon dislikes the ocean.
It brings up memories he'd rather forget, and the smell of sand and salt in the air stirs something foreign inside of him. It twists his heart into knots, but he brushes off the feeling and continues towards where your magic is the strongest.
A siren's song echoes in the distance, and Solomon takes caution and blocks that noise from his ears.
It makes humans mad.
Your scream is the first thing that reaches his ears, and he teleports.
"Make it stop!" You garble out, barely managing to cover your ears while the sirens crowd around you. They all have leers on their faces, and their lips keep moving, singing songs which will drive you to insanity.
Thankfully he can't hear, but oh fuck, he didn't teach you any spells that would keep the worst of the chorus out.
A pang of guilt strikes him. How could he be this negligent?
You look at him so scared, so helpless, so defeated—
Eons ago, he was like you too. Scared and doubtful, until he made himself a king and earned wisdom which granted him everything else, everything but death.
"Get away from them!" He shouts, eyebrows furrowed.
The sirens steal a look at him, and freeze, confused at a human which is not affected by their voice.
"Strange," One says, with seaweed in her hair. "A mortal who is not maddened yet."
He strides towards them, until he's managed to be close enough to whisper the words in your ear that will protect you against their songs, and watches as you mutter the words he says and then sigh.
"Let us be, we are no ordinary humans."
"That makes the hunt irresistible." They reply, and Solomon smiles, and shares a look with you.
"They think we'll fall in no time," He chuckles, hand under his chin. "Want to show them who we are, MC?"
You grin. "Gladly."
Then one lunges, nails and teeth far sharper than on any siren he's seen before. He recites a chant under his breath, and she falls back, into the sea.
"Warned you."
The others hiss.
You ignore the adrenaline running through your veins and focus on the remaining sirens, reciting a hex that you learnt with the sorcerer a month ago.
"......let them be singed."
There's a shriek, and it seems to be coming from all directions—the sirens all retreat into the water, your spell having done its job.
You stare until the surface calms, still not trusting yourself to face Solomon. You're trembling slightly, and you were so scared that you were going to die—
"It's okay." Solomon whispers, voice weak. You turn around to gaze at him, the sound of waves hitting rocks a background melody. He's smiling, but there's desperation in his eyes. He's hiding his true emotions right now, and aren't you doing the same?
The sorcerer hides his face into the crook of your neck, and you feel him press his lips to the skin there. He shudders, and you don't comment on it.
"I should have taught you the spell before letting you come here," He whispers, his voice breaking off at the end. "I had almost lost you there. Forgive me."
You wrap your arms around him. "It's okay," You a press a kiss to his head. "I'm safe, you're safe, we are safe." You hope Solomon is comforted by your words, given he's never let himself be so vulnerable with you before.
"You'll grow to be as powerful as me." The man chuckles, breathing deeply. Relief floods his body, and now that the adrenaline has worn off it leaves Solomon lethargic. "My sorcerer..."
He just want to be with you.
"We should go home," You suggest, noticing the chill in the air. "It's getting late. The sirens may return.."
"You can take care of them just fine now, can't you?"
"Now now, don't get too chummy with me."
BONUS: LUKE
Sorry Luke—
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me x reader#obey me dateables#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me solomon#tw: violence#obey me luke#obey me diavolo x reader#obey me barbatos x reader#obey me simeon x reader#obey me solomon x reader
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Oml those nsfw promps?? 👀
Would you be interested in any one of the following:
Zeke with 72 “That is kinky even by my standards…”
Levi with 207 “Don’t give me that look”
Geto with 38 “I think you deserve a treat.” …Because maybe you deserve a treat ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
oooo, options!!
i'm going to attempt levi because i've never really written him before and hey, what better time to try than a sunday evening when i'm resting in bed w a tummyache? 🙈 apologies in advance if it's horrible
list of prompts ⋆ masterlist
╰┈➤ smut prompts - 207. “Don’t give me that look.”
ft. levi/gn!reader cw. unedited, not proofread, explicit sexual content (handjob, mention of masturbation, sexual fantasies), explicit language. 1,759 words.
Levi pinches the space between his brows, sighing heavily as Hange speaks -- trying to give some sort of pathetic excuse for their mistake.
"There's only one bed?" Levi grumbles in frustration.
"Well, no, there are three, Levi -- if you had been listening to me, you would've heard that."
"I heard you, four eyes," he says with a sigh before gesturing between himself and you. "But there's only one bed, for us."
Hange nods, pushing their glasses up the bridge of their nose. "Commander Erwin needs his own room -- for privacy reasons, of course -- and I'm staying in Eren's room for observational purposes so --"
"So, that leaves one bed," Levi repeats, glancing over at you, standing nervously to the side, "for us."
"It'll be fine, you don't even need a full bed, anyway," Hange snickers. "Get it, because you're short?"
"I get it," he hisses, pushing past Hange into the bedroom.
Hange offers you a sympathetic shrug before walking off to their shared bedroom with Eren, whistling a cheerful tune.
Swallowing thickly, you follow Levi into the bedroom and shut the door behind you. "I can find somewhere else to sleep, Captain."
"That won't be necessary."
Levi is already searching through the dressers and closets for extra bedding. He finds some quickly, pulling out blankets and pillows and then throwing them onto the ground.
"I'll just sleep on the floor."
"Captain, I --"
"That's an order."
You furrow your brows at him in confusion and he responds by quickly turning away from you to hide the blush as it grows across his face. It's bad enough that he's stuck sharing a bed on this mission -- but did it have to be with you of all people?
Levi found himself flustered around you more often than not. Misspeaking during drills... dropping things... stupid little mistakes that he had never been guilty of before.
Not until you joined his squad.
"We have to be up early for tomorrow's mission," he says, kneeling down on the ground as he makes himself a place to sleep. "You should get some rest."
Even with his back turned toward you, he can tell you're fidgeting -- unsure of what to do.
"Relax," he insists. "Go to bed."
You hum in response and he hears you start to work on unbuckling the straps of your ODM gear. Levi swallows thickly and keeps his head low, fluffing up his pillow needlessly as he hears you undoing belts and straps -- his face burning hot.
He starts to work on his own straps quietly, still respectfully keeping his back to you as he pulls off his ODM gear. He sets it down next to his bed before pulling off his boots and then crawling into his makeshift sleeping bag.
You walk across the room, still dressed in your clothes from today, and blow out the candles in the room. Levi watches you carefully through narrowed eyes as you blow out each candle with a soft puff of your breath -- stepping up onto your toes to reach a particularly high candle -- Levi bites his lip just as the two of you are submerged in darkness.
"Goodnight, Captain."
"Goodnight."
---
Levi wakes to the sound of his own teeth chattering.
He pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders and breathes out a slow sigh. Even as his eyes adjust to the darkness, he can see his breath and he realizes that the temperature must have dipped drastically overnight.
He curls into himself and cups his hands around his face, breathing steam into his palms in an effort to keep himself warm. He looks around the room from his position on the floor for some kind of heater or fireplace -- but there's nothing.
"Captain Levi?" you whisper from above him. He hums in response, clenching his jaw hard to prevent his teeth from knocking into each other. "Are you ok? It's gotten really cold."
"I'm fine," he says, but the trembling of his jaw betrays his true feelings.
He can hear you moving on the bed beside him and although his back is still turned toward you, he can tell you're leaning by the edge of the bed, now.
"Do you... want to come up here?"
"That wouldn't be appropriate."
"You're... really cold."
The concern in your voice makes his face burn hot and despite his pride, his toes are going numb and he knows he won't be able to get back to sleep when he's shivering like this.
"Move aside," is all he says when he sits up, before crawling into your bed from the ground like some kind of animal.
Instantly, he feels much warmer, whether due to being off the floor or the heat radiating from your body. But he's still trembling.
"Should we, um..."
Levi already knows what you're about to suggest and the thought has blood rushing down between his legs.
No, no -- he cannot allow himself to get hard next to you right now.
"Should we --"
"I'm fine," he snaps, and it's harsher than he had intended but he needs you to stop because now his body is shaking from how tightly wound-up he is and he needs to just go to sleep before he embarrasses himself.
But then Levi feels you shuffling closer to him in the bed until your chest is pressed against his back. His breath catches in his throat when your arm slides around his front, pressing firmly into his stomach.
"Captain, you're shivering," you say, whispering into his ear and sending jolts of electricity down his spine. "Commander Erwin will kill me if you die of frostbite tonight."
Despite himself, he snorts, melting back against the warmth of your chest. His heart thunders in his chest at the same time that his cock throbs painfully in his slacks -- did you even realize what kind of an effect you had on him?
You rub your palm across his stomach -- a warming gesture, Levi thinks -- but it only serves to build the growing ache between his thighs. He releases a shuddered breath, squirming slightly to subtly adjust himself, but then you slide one of your legs between his, bringing your thigh up between his legs.
"Captain, I --" your hand seems to dip lower, fingertips brushing against the waistband of his slacks and Levi feels his mouth go dry. "I hope this is not too forward... but I've always admired you."
Levi says nothing in response -- he can't. He's too busy hyper-focusing on the way your hand seems to be gently working open the button of his pants.
Was this a dream?
"I begged to be put on your squad," you admit, breath hot against the shell of his ear as you drag his zipper down. "But you never even look at me."
"I look at you," he hisses when your palm presses against his hardened bulge. "I look at you -- all the time."
It feels like you're smiling against his neck, lips pressing softly into his skin as your hand moves, sliding back up to the waistband of his briefs, only to dip inside.
"Is that true?"
When your fingers wrap around him, he can only groan in response. His body shudders at the feeling of your warm, soft palm grasping his cock and giving him a firm squeeze.
"You do so much for us, Captain," you whisper, as if you already know he's about to protest. "Let me do this for you."
Levi trembles forward, every inch of his body lighting up at once when you start to stroke along his length. It's embarrassing how quickly you're able to bring him to the edge with just your hand on his cock and your mouth on his neck.
You run your hand up his length, swiping your thumb across his tip to smear the spilt precum and he moans at the feeling, hips bucking forward. You kiss him softly behind the ear and he shudders -- you hold your hand steady as he fucks your fist, breathing quickly growing erratic as his gut tightens.
"Feels good," he groans when you squeeze him a little tighter. Levi throws his head back against your shoulder as your mouth latches onto his neck, licking and sucking the sensitive spot where his shoulder meets his neck.
He's fantasized about this moment -- about having you touch him like this -- for longer than he's willing to admit. Hunched over in the showers, hand fisting his own cock to thoughts of you. The way the sweat glistens on your face after a day in the sun, how you smile around mouthfuls of food when the others joke around during dinner.
He wants to ruin you -- cover every inch of your skin with his cum, marking you as his. He's fantasized about having you wait for him in his office after each mission, down on your knees with your mouth hanging open -- ready to please him. He's pictured bending you over his desk and sinking inside of you, plunging his cock into your warm, wet hole, and using you until you're just babbling his name out in ecstasy.
Levi cums with a guttural moan, body tensing as his cock shoots ropes of cum across your hand. He gasps as you keep stroking him through it, milking his cock for every drop until he's just a whimpering, trembling mess in your arms.
The two of you lay there for a moment, wrapped up in each other with Levi's cock softening in your hand, until you pull away -- reaching behind you for a cloth to clean up the mess on your hand and the front of Levi's pants.
He relaxes into you with a sigh, still never once turning to face you throughout the night, and the two of you fall asleep in the warmth of each other's bodies.
--
"How was your sleep, Levi?" Hange asks cheerfully when the two of you exit the bedroom. Levi is still adjusting the tightness of his straps as he looks over at them, brows furrowed in annoyance.
"Fine," he says and Hange's smile grows.
"Did the bed feel good, last night?"
"I slept on the floor," he insists, but his face burns in embarrassment and there's a sinister glint in Hange's eyes.
"The walls are pretty thin," they knock on a nearby wall for emphasis. Levi tries to push past them but they stand firmly in the way, waggling their eyebrows at Levi in delight.
"Don't look at me like that," he snaps, swallowing thickly to hide his shame as Hange cackles.
"Oh, but Levi, I'm always looking at you."
"Shut up!"
#levi x reader#levi x you#levi x y/n#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman x y/n#gn!reader#levi smut#levi ackerman smut#aot smut#snk smut#aot x reader#aot x y/n#aot x you#tiff.ask#hangesbrattyapprentice#tiff.fic#levi ackerman#levi#aot#levi.os
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Seven Stages
Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Ex! Reader, JJ Maybank X Reader Warnings: Strong Language, Talk of Alcohol Author's Note: Do I smell a series? perhaps....
Summary: When your boyfriend Rafe leaves you for another woman, You find solace in JJ Maybank.
part i. shock.
There are 7 stages of grief. Shock, Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Testing, and finally, Acceptance. After your boyfriend of a year broke up with you for no apparent reason at all, it felt as if you’d never get past stage 5.
When Rafe told you that it was over, it was a blow to the stomach. The initial impact knocked the wind out of your lungs and left you frozen to the spot. You knew what he was like, you should have seen it coming, but that didn’t mean you hurt less.
“I’m sorry” he explained, staring into your impassive eyes, “But, It’s what is best,”
“Is it someone else?” you asked, the question was engraved in your mind, though you were scared to ask it.
Rafe was taken aback, “Don’t you trust me?” He accused.
“Tell me the truth, and I’ll answer that”
He hesitated, “Yes”
You didn’t say anything more and instead went to bed.
In all honesty, it didn’t feel like it had actually happened, and when you woke up the next morning you made two plates of scrambled eggs and bacon. 3 slices for Rafe, the way you knew he liked it. It hadn’t quite occurred to you yet, that he hadn’t spent the night. The lonely half-hour at your family’s breakfast bar is what made that apparent.
The plate was thrown at the wall, and a string of curse words tumbled out. You ripped the chain from your neck, tiny golden links and a wildly expensive pendant scattered along the floor. Never one for material things, you felt no guilt at the action. Though part of you wished you just sold it, or donated it. Even kept it as something to give back to him later - an excuse to see him again.
Rafe’s things got thrown haphazardly into a cardboard box and left beside the front door. Some clothes, a set of cufflinks and his favourite polo shirt. Along with the gift you were set to give him on his upcoming birthday.
You called him that night. It was supposed to be a quick phone call saying that he could come to collect his things from your house, but transformed into a full-blown argument. Screaming down the receiver, you called him every derogatory name under the sun. At that moment, you hated Rafe Cameron.
“Stop calling me, Y/N.” he would say.
“Stop being such a dickhead, and just talk to me!” you begged, “Why?”
“Y/N”
“Please”
The dial tone sounded. A noise that became all too familiar.
The depression came in quickly and stayed a while. The previous stages had flown past in a whirlwind, and now you were left to wallow in your feelings. Much less angry with Rafe and his wandering eyes, and much more upset with yourself for not being good enough. By the time you managed to pull yourself out of your bed, the news of the breakup had spread throughout Figure 8. The cut heard soon after, almost like a celebrity break-up so the small island of Kildare. Gaggles of giggling girls all made faces at you as you passed. Each ready to get their hands on the islands newest, and richest, eligible bachelor. Talk of your ex boyfriend littered every teenage social spot. Kook and Pogue alike.
You tried to phone your best friend Sarah. But, she never answered the call. Probably choosing Rafe’s side in order to keep the peace at home. She was his sister after all. So you were entirely alone.
That was 3 months ago. It was a fresh new year.
You’d moved on, completely skipping the 6th stage and moving on to acceptance. Rafe didn’t want to be with you, and that was fine. It was his choice. Besides, had you never gone through those stages of grief, you wouldn’t be where you are now. Your new boyfriend tapping on the edge of the fridge.
“What do you wanna eat, Babe?” JJ asked, head peering from the kitchen.
“I’m not sure, what do we have in?”
With a hand resting on the top of the fridge, JJ peered inside. “Nothing interesting, I’ll go pick up something from the wreck then, yeah?”
“Your treat? Or am I just wishfully thinking?”
“I’ll pay you back in other ways?” he jokes, ghosting a kiss on your lips, “I love you.”
You rolled your eyes, giving him a sly smirk. You had money, he had none. But he made up for that in other ways, ways that Rafe never could. JJ left the house with another peck on your lips, almost tripping on the box that stayed gathering dust at the front door. Rafe’s things. Which he still hadn’t come to collect.
They didn’t bother you anymore, you were just eager to see them gone. After all, JJ and you were due to move to your own condo late that week, and nobody wants to move their girlfriend’s ex’s things into their house. It was bad enough that they still sat there. And it was bad enough that JJ couldn’t stand Rafe at the best of times.But, he put up with it, for he knew that she was 100% with him. That Rafe was no longer even a whisper on her mind.
The night was a relaxing one, Sarah had finally spoken to you, a rambled apology about her absence. You brushed it off, she had to pick a side, and after all, Rafe was still her brother.
“But I’m not even fond of Rafe,” she said, “There is no excuse for ignoring you like I did”
The phone call was long and comforting. You hadn’t spoken to many people since the breakup, at least not those who inhabited the rich southern side of the island. You spent your time with JJ’s small group of friends. Plus, you knew that Sarah was skipping out on a potential date with Topper to talk to you instead. You insisted that she could go if she wanted, but you could practically hear her eyes roll through the phone.
“Who’s there?” a familiar voice slurred in the background, “is that Y/N?”
“She doesn’t want to talk to yo-”
Sarah’s protests were cut off by the drunken man who had grabbed the telephone and promptly pressed it to his ear. You could hear her struggle to ge her phone back, but understood her plight, knowing all too well how stubborn her brother was.
“Y/N?” the voice asked. “Baby is that you?” Rafe practically pushed Sarah from the bed as he fought to keep possession of the phone. Both hands clutching it in desperation. As if it were to dissipate into thin air.
“Hi Rafe.”
It was the first time you had spoken to him since stage 3, and you were surprisingly calm.
“I’ve missed you so much” he cried, voice wavering from both a mixture of the booze, and his emotions, “I fucked up, baby. I need you”
“How much have you had to drink?”
“That doesn’t change anything,” he argued, the letters in his words melting together. It was barely understandable. He was very clearly inebriated, and for someone who could so easily hold his drink, it was almost worrying.
The front door opened again, the vinegary smell of fish and chips wafting through to your nose. “I’m home” JJ called
“Can you hand the phone back to Sarah now, I have to go see JJ” You excused. Part of you wanted to just hang up, but a bigger part wanted to say goodbye to Sarah. She deserved that.
“Maybank? That Pougue?” Rafe asked, sounding much soberer. Almost angry. “Why the fuck are you with him?”
“He’s my boyfriend, Rafe. Now can you hand the phone ba-”
Your words fell on empty ears, however, as Rafe thrust the phone back into Sarah’s hands. Clicking the end call button as quickly as he would have answered it.
There are 7 stages of grief. Shock, Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Testing, and finally, Acceptance. After his ex-girlfriend had revealed the news that she’d moved on, with another man. Rafe started his cycle at stage 1.
#applcrumbl#writing#jj maybank#rafe cameron#jj maybank fluff#rafe cameron fluff#jj maybank imagine#rafe cameron imagine#jj maybank smut#rafe cameron smut#jj maybank x reader#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks
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Hi!!! Could you do romantic X headcanons for Lawrie and 8-BIT? If you don't accept two characters at time for headcanons you can pick which one you want! Also could the reader be a robot? For the pronouns everything is fine even if I would prefer gender neutral or fem pronouns!
So sorry if this is bad worded it's my first time requesting something and English is not my first language 😭🙏
I hope you have a wonderful day!
Hello!! Thank you for your request! I can do two characters don’t worry!
╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗
8-Bit with a robot partner —
~ For starters, it took a LONG time to get 8-Bit to want anything to do with you. Much less than if you were a human, but still, you really had to bide your time with him.
~ He was very reluctant to talk past any simple small talk, and his usual speaking patterns kept his replies vague and sort of mysterious, in a way.
~ If you ever get him to open up, you’re probably the first person (robot?) to ever do so. And that’s exactly why he catches feelings for you.
~ He definitely doesn’t understand his feelings at first— he thinks that since he’s an arcade cabinet, he shouldn’t feel anything romantic. But after some soul searching and self help (google) he comes to the conclusion that he does, in fact, have a crush on you.
~ Would he ever confess to you? No. Not in a million years would he ever take the risk of losing the one person that he could talk to and rely on. Thankfully, you’re willing to take that risk!
~ When you confess to him, he is bewildered. He cannot fathom that someone would like him back. It’s a miracle he didn’t blow a fuse when you told him, whether it be in person or through any other means.
~ 8-Bit is very nervous at the start of the relationship, but he tries his best. Chances are good you would be his first for everything. But with nurturing and reassurance, he quickly gets over his anxiety after the first initial month or so.
~ He tries his hardest to keep his temper cool around you, and tells you time and time again that if he gets mad, it isn’t your fault. If he ever yelled at you, he would delete all his code immediately.
~ Despite all his rage, he loves playing co-op games with you, or just watching you play a game. As small tokens of love, he’ll buy you games you like/want, dlc, even merchandise of your favorite franchises. I wouldn’t say gift giving is his love language, he just likes spoiling you from time to time.
~ Regarding physical touch, it takes him quite a while to get used to it. You would have to start small, with just hand holding, then slowly ease your way into cuddling or anything of the sort.
~ He appreciates that your also a robot, meaning you can relate more to… whatever issues robots have. This also means 8-Bit is a lot more knowledgeable on robot first aid, and should something go wrong, he can easily patch you up.
~ Overall, it’s a lengthy process, but in the end 8-Bit does love you and cares for you a lot. It might be hard for him to properly express it, but he isn’t opposed to leaving you love notes around the place for you to find.
Lawrie with a robot partner —
~ Another stubborn, angry robot.
~ It’s real hard to talk to him. Harder than it is for 8-Bit, because Lawrie already has a best friend— Larry. He doesn’t see a need to be buddy buddy with anyone else.
~ You still try, and try… and try. Making any excuse to see him, to bring him anything he likes, help him with small errands… Yet he just sees you as an acquaintance.
~ That’s not to say he doesn’t find you attractive, or a potential partner. Oh no, he’s crushing *hard*, but he is just amazing at covering it up.
~ He gets all his gushing out to Larry, who has to bear to hear it all (he loves seeing his brother so happy).
“God, and you know what they did today?!”
“Ooo what! What!!”
“They handed me a pen when I needed it!!”
“OH MY GOD LAWRIE marry them already please”
~ The longer you stick around, the more open Lawrie gets. Slowly, over the course of a month, his little crush turns into a like. A *like like*.
~ Unlike 8-Bit, Lawrie actually *will* ask you out. But very discreetly. He asks if you would stay with him for longer, just to keep him company while sorting through files and other mundane tasks. After a week of this, he’ll finally ask you out on a date, but “just as friends”…
~ Dinner dates aren’t really… applicable to robots such as yourselves. So, you opt to roam Starr Park past his shift. He offers to pay for just about everything, since he was the one to ask you out anyway (and definitely not because he likes you haha…)
~ If you touch him at all, he’ll react with annoyance, but that is most definitely not how he feels… at all.
~ After the first date, he tells Larry all about it, who then encourages Lawrie to ask you to be his partner. Lawrie is very skeptical at first, and really doubts Larry’s advice, but goes for it anyway.
~ He asks you casually whenever your around his work, hardly batting an eye on the outside. But trust me, he’s freaking out internally. When you say yes, he genuinely gets flustered and turns red (can robots blush…?). He accidentally says “thank you”.
~ In a relationship, Lawrie isn’t all that bad. He sets in place some basic boundaries for the both of you, in an almost formal meeting delivery. This is mostly just to avoid future issues.
~ Unlike his brother, Lawrie is not very touchy, especially at first. It takes him almost two weeks to ask to hold your hand, and another week to… sort of kiss you? Whatever the robot equivalent is.
~ He isn’t one to spontaneously purchase gifts for you— he keeps that for when you two go out together. Instead, he prefers doing small acts of service for you, like taking on chores (even if you don’t live together) and bringing you drinks or food while watching movies together. He gives you prince(ss) treatment.
~ The only problems I can foresee is him being too harsh or rough at times. If you two are play fighting, he might accidentally shoot a rubber band at you too hard or hurt you in some way. He honestly doesn’t mean to, and always makes sure your okay and holds you after.
~ In all, he’s a good man. Larry is so happy his brother finally found someone, because honestly… he never thought Lawrie would.
╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝
I hope this was good! Im not too familiar with 8-Bit but thankfully someone on reddit analyzed his personality.
Requests are open <3
#brawl stars#8bit brawl stars#brawl stars lawrie#larry and lawrie#brawl stars 8 bit#brawl stars x reader#brawl stars 8bit x reader#8bit brawl stars x reader#Lawrie brawl stars x reader#brawl stars lawrie x reader
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*Sebastian huffed and squeezed his way through an unexpected number of scientists and other employees through Sector E’s halls. Giving quick “excuse me’s” and “pardon me’s” as he kept rubbing shoulders with lab coats. Sebastian figured that this stretch of the Science Team must be clocking out for a late lunch, he’s never seen any sector’s halls so packed before, unless you count the highest level of top-side customer service and protection from the general and oddball public.*
Christ al’mighty Ah’m jus’ tryn’a git ta mah shift, y’know, th’shift that keeps y’all from actin’ like dogs without horses.. Clearly it ain’t helpin’ much, Jesus.
*After a few more left turns, the checkpoint position he had been assigned comes into view, another guard tapping his fingers on the desk and perking up at the sight of Sebastian.*
“Christ, Seb, what took you so fuckin’ long, eh? Was ‘bout to just clock out and leave this place hanging.”
*Sebastian just chuckled* Yeah, yeah, mighty sorry ‘bout that. Fer some damn reason th’halls were packed full of them lab rats an’ Ah could hardly git past. Go take’a piss an’ then cool off on yer lunch, Pauly, Ah got it from ‘ere.
*The guard scoffed and crossed his arms* “Whatever. Thankfully those old cronies only now just took lunch, what ever reason you’re filed under checkpoint over here, you’ll be glad to know it’s practically empty now. Have fun staring at the wall.”
Yer too kind. Ah take it ya prob’ly scared ‘em off an’-
*There was the faintest rumble between under their feet. Several lights from down the hall suddenly flicker and blow out, the emergency lights immediately turn on, painting the metallic walls an eerie red. Sebastian goes quiet at that, steadily eyeing the darkened hallway and listening close for anything suspicious.*
*Officer Pauly swallows audibly, eyes still on Sebastian* “The hell was tha-“
*BUZWARN* Warning. Power Outages Detected In [SECTOR E]. All Affected Personnel Please Be Advised.
*BUZWARN* Warning. Unauthorized Biological Forms Detected In [SECTOR E]. All Non-Disaster Response Personnel Evacuate Immediately.
*GARBLED BUZWARN* Warning. W-Warning. Security i̴̜̒̚͠n̵̢̫̞͍̍̆ ̵̢̦͈̜̏̂̑̉[̶̨̰̹̟́͛̑̓S̶̢̰̤͛̀ͅĖ̵̟̲̌Ć̴̥͍̣̞́̐T̴̯̿O̴̻̮͚̅Ṛ̵̠̟͍͒͆́̄ ̵͔̓Ḙ̷́̏͘]̷̧̪͗̎͗͋ ̵̠̝͌͜͝R̵̖̼̰̬̅̍e̴̱̔͒̌p̷̡̙̥̜̊͆õ̸̻r̴̗̤̀̽̏̇t̶̨̧̺̫͠ ̵̞̻̲͑̑́̐T̷̯̰̘̦̍̒̌ơ̴̼͔̿ ̵̘̣́[̶̖̰̓̇̓Ḁ̸͓̞̿̂̔̌D̷̞̫̣̻͗͗V̴͓̿A̸̢̻̤̘͂N̶̳̙̫̊͂C̷̜͎̆E̴̙̘͛̉̈̕D̷͙͕̜̹́͝ ̴̠͖̗͛͝ͅB̷̲̞͊̊͗Ḯ̸̘Ợ̵̩̒̏̇L̸͉̖̒̄̆̉O̵͇̅̀͘͝G̶͓͇̊̓̽Ḭ̴̦̥͕̌̌̊Ç̷̓A̴̮͉̩̋̀̀ͅL̶͎̈̆̇̚ ̸̗͕͌R̴̨̰̋̾͝È̷̺͕̏̓ͅS̴͕͆̚E̴͚̩̫̍̀̆͜͝A̷̼͋̃̍R̸̤̳͑̚C̴̩͕̼̬͠H̶̥̤̓ ̴͖̦̱̈̓͂̈͜C̶͙̿̒O̶̼̖̳̼͆M̷̠̖̬̦̽̾P̵̠͕̰̈͂̇L̸̝̀E̴̺̮̱̊̈̑͠X̵̛̗̹̂]̷͍́̃͑́ ̷̬͈̬͖̋͆Ị̸̛̩̲̦͒̅m̷̦̠͋̇̃͠m̵̖͕̙͉̿̚ë̸̬́̋͌d̴͈̹̝̀i̵̤̔̈́à̴̟͇̍̓͌t̸̲͍̦͒̽̄e̵̠̽̈́̇̈́l̶̰̍͜y̷̡̧̘̒̏̈́̈
*The two security guards listened in shocked silence as the automated comms buzzed in and out, the emergency lights flicking at the same time. Sebastian persed his lips in a straight line, taking a deep breath and suddenly pushing Pauly into the checkpoint box*
“THE HELL ARE YOU-?!” *The guard began to shout in protest, before Sebastian tossed him inside and shut the door. Pauly gets up immediately, pounding on the glass* “OI ASSHOLE! The fuck do you think you’re doing?!”
*Sebastian snapped his fingers and put one up to his lips* Quiet. Ah’m goin’ ta check it out. It ain’t lookin’ good on our department if they go an’ lose two men on th’job. Ya sit tight an’ wait it out fer me, ‘kay?
*The guard sputtered a few times at that response, gesturing his hands wildly before sighing and giving up any retort, having known Sebastian long enough to know arguing with him like this is fruitless* “If you go and get yourself killed I won’t be there for whatever shoddy funeral they give you. It’ll be all your fault down to the grave, Seb.”
Thank ya, kindly, Pauly. How ‘bout we go an’ git’a beer with th’boys if Ah make back it in at least 3/4s? Ah’ll make a’bet with ya. *Sebastian clicks off the safety of his pistol and checks the magazine while he talks*
“Wh- Pfft, fucksake, Sebastian. Fine, whatever, I’ll bet. Quit wasting time.”
*Sebastian nods and runs down the hallway, making a salute with his pistol before turning around completely*
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okay. here is my 1600+ words essay on raphael. if anyone would like to adress anything from it, please do but keep it civil! i am so damn invested in this topic, i wanna hear everyone's thoughts
raphael rant
(DISCLAIMER: this essay was not written in order to justify Raphael as a character or any of his actions or intentions. i am completely skipping any point of morality, whether my own or just in general, i simply wanted to somehow try and write my feelings and thoughts down while looking at the whole thing from an objective point of view, analyzing the design of the game, the plotline and his whole persona and just.. idk i wanted to see whether anyone else felt the way i do because i have been going INSANE over this for the past few days)
hi. i have come here today to express my thoughts and feelings on Raphael the cambion and "his final act". this is being randomly and spontaneously written in my notes app so please excuse the absolute chaos that this essay will be (no i won't be rereading it, fuck it we ball) (CONTAINS BG3 ACT III SPOILERS!!)
first of all — i am so beyond devastated that he gets killed. and not just by anyone, he gets killed BY US. THE PLAYER. WE AS THE PLAYER DELIVER THE FINAL BLOW THAT ENDS HIS EXISTENCE. not only is that very upsetting (because come on, hot devil man, obviously i don't wanna kill him??) but it also makes me feel so.. awful. like, everything about this is wrong and i hate the fact that there is no other option.
because let's review the course of the story in the house of hope:
- we barge into his house unannounced, uninvited, while he is absent
- we invade his privacy by entering what's his own personal space (yes, i know he stole it from Hope in the first place but that is not the point here — whatever his devil business is, it's still HIS, you know?? like he is a devil, this is the kinda stuff they do and honestly? i didn't want to stick my nose into it. but obviously i did because tHe sToRy etc etc. but still, it was his own thing that basically doesn't affect the player in any way so TECHNICALLY you dont have to free Hope. you can, if your character's moral compass advises so, but it doesn't affect the main plot.)
- we then proceed to walk around his house freely, lie to his archivist in order to look at the stuff we're already planning to steal
- we meet his personal incubus whom then we have the chance to either use or kill (i fought Haarlep so that's the point of view i'm looking from at this here, in which case i also robbed their corpse) and we rob his safe. and his whole bedroom actually. we read his journals. we use his bath.
- then obviously we go and rob his entire archive which includes all of his most precious possessions
- upon stealing, we slaughter every single creature in his house, fighting our way through to get to Hope's prison
- we then kill the two spectators he has guarding her (they were probably super hard to obtain??) and we just. free his prisoner. because yeah, that is the right thing to do, IM NOT SAYING THAT'S WRONG, but let's say we skip morality for a second, let's just focus on the fact that we have no ulterior motives in freeing Hope. we just wanna mess with HIS business because why not since we're already ruining all of his plans.
- and then we have the audacity to try to leave before he comes back and act like we were never there while his entire house is turned to shit.
now let's look at this list again but this time keep in mind the fact that at that point, he hasn't done A SINGLE THING to us. like, he has never harmed us, he treated us with (let's call it) "respect" and politeness, he was fine with our hesitation towards his deal and was willing to give us time. he was never aggressive towards us, he was never "the enemy".
and now you can say - okay wtf is wrong with you, that man literally admitted his intention of conquering the worlds, enslaving all mortals and basically becoming the tyrant of all while also most likely stealing everyone's souls for his own pleasure.
yes, he did, and yes, that's bad. but just because those were his intentions does not give us the right to do all that shit to him AND THEN KILL HIM. AS IF WE HAD THE RIGHT TO SERVE JUSTICE HERE?? YEAH HIS PLANS ARE EVIL BUT IT IS NOT UP TO US TO DICTATE HIS CONSEQUENCES. HIS PLANS WOULD ONLY SUCCEED IF WE GAVE HIM THE CROWN IN THE END, SO JUST- DON'T?? LIKE DO YOU GET WHAT I MEAN. IM NOT TRYING TO JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS OR INTENTIONS, BY ALL MEANS. i'm just trying to express how weird this all made me feel because not everyone decides to play as the selfless, lawfully good hero of all, protecting the world from all evil, ever! this is roleplay, afterall!
and them obviously he comes home. he is furious, as he should be. but mostly he's betrayed because, as weird as it may be, he trusted us. he admitted to growing "quite fond of us, in his own way". he thought we were some weird sort of.. acquaintances? friends maybe? (again, i know most of our relationship with him is mostly just him manipulating us but still, it's quite clear he wasn't expecting this betrayal) and we just barged in there and disrespected him in the worst way possible. so obviously he wants to kill us now and obviously we can kill him since he's just a boss in a game. and that's what we do. and then.. that's it. we're the good guys. we ruined a man's whole career because we needed one of his toys, murdered him in his own house and just left. and we're supposed to be the good guys.
i think the source of my problem is that Raphael is never introduced as evil. we don't meet him as the big bad villain that we know we'll have to kill at some point. i swear to god, at the beginning of act 3 i trusted that man way more than i trusted the Emperor and i was so close to agreeing to his deal just because i felt like i could trust him and he would keep me safe (for some reason, let's blame it on those wonderful eyes of his).
we meet him so early on in the game and he follows through all 3 acts, making it feel like he's gonna be some key character that will matter in the end - turns out, no! we were just supposed to rob and kill him. and that's literally it. talk about wasted potential.
when i first met him i got the "unofficial narrator" vibes from him, as if he was only supposed to seem intimidating and "evil" but you could sense there was so much more to him and i was dying to see how his story would unwrap. i was so ready for a redemption act, a plot twist, anything. man was i disappointed. because how cool would it be if he turned out to be a part of the "gather your allies" quest?? imagine having him as an ally and an ACTUAL friend in the end??
and don't even GET ME STARTED on what the orb in Helsik's shop shows you after you kill him. the fact that he's not even dead yet but ABOUT TO BE DEVOURED BY MEPHISTOPHELES. ABOUT TO BE DEVOURED. BY HIS FATHER. HE. WHAT. THATS THE ENDING HE GETS. and we are the ones that served it to him when he got RIGHTFULLY pissed at us for doing all that shit to him. and im supposed to just be fine with it?? i'm supposed to feel like this was the ending he deserved and i did the right thing??
god what i would give for a different way. idk. striking a new deal with him. saving him from Mephistopheles afterwards. REDEMPTION ARC?? ANYTHING?? NO? THATS IT THEN?
now i know that you dont HAVE to kill him, you can either agree to his deal or just ignore him and the house of hope altogether. but that just defeats the whole purpose of this character?? agreeing to his deal and giving him the crown at the end results in a pretty bad ending and ignoring him means that yeah, you don't have to kill him but you also don't get anything else from him anymore. like he has no other endings, just either death or his big evil plans. and for a game with so many choices and so much branching, it just feels almost weird that that's all he is there for. then why do we meet him in act 1? why does he follow through to act 2? (yeah, astarion, i know, but i cant help but feel like they could have put a completely different way to read his runes there if they didnt want Raphael specifically to help us) WHY ARE WE ALREADY SO USED TO HIM BY THE TIME HE PRESENTS HIS DEAL? if the whole hammer business is the only thing he's in the game for, then we may have as well been introduced to him only in act 3 during the whole Voss quest. but we knew him already and he felt like some sort of a.. friend lets call it? idk. this just does not make sense to me and makes me genuinely so sad.
as i'm writing this, it's the third day after ive completed the house of hope and i literally can not think about anything else. like my mind is just going on and on about this and i cant get over it!! im actually GRIEVING a fictional devil and i dont know what to do with all these.. thoughts.
so now i actually genuinely MISS THAT MF. I MISS HIM. GIVE HIM BACK. I WASN'T DONE AND NEITHER WAS HE. PLEASE PLEASE LARIAN I CAN FIX HIM—
okay i think thats it for now. idk i wrote this so chaotically i already forgot what i said and didnt say. im just. im feeling so many things. im so fucking sad and mad that this is how it ends. rest in peace hot devil man i will never forget you.
#bg3 act 3 spoilers#bg3 raphael#bg3 spoilers#raphael the cambion#raphael#bg3#baldurs gate 3 spoilers#baldur's gate 3#bg3 act 3#larian studios#bg3 essay#baldur's gate iii#bg3 discussion
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Day One: Corruption - Inuyasha
Warnings: fem!reader, seduction, loss of virginity
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Taglist: @actuallysaiyan
The conversation came up randomly one day. Inuyasha was sitting against a tree with his eyes closed. His hands were tucked inside the sleeves of his kimono, and his face remained stoic as the wind swept through his long white hair. At first glance, it would be easy to believe he was in a state of meditation. You’ve been traveling long enough with Inuyasha to know better than that. When he’s quiet like this it’s not that he’s calm or seeking inner peace, it’s because his thoughts are loud. You tried to entertain yourself by playing with the fire, poking at it with a stick, and watching leaves burn to ash when you threw them in. That can only keep someone occupied for so long. You crawled over to Inuyasha and placed your face close to him. At first, he didn’t seem to notice your presence, only betrayed by the slightest twitch of his dog ears. You gently blow on his ear, watching it flick as he lets out an annoyed groan.
“What are you doing?” he growls. As he turns his head to look at you, his eyes widen when he notices your close proximity. He almost loses himself in your eyes but then he scoots away. “What are you so close for?”
“What? You’ve never been close to a cute girl before?” you retort.
“Pft, you’re not a cute girl,” he says despite the way his cheeks flush.
“And of course I have!”
“Oh yeah? What’d you do?” you ask with a smirk.
“WHA— that is none of your business!”
The sight of him so flustered from your questions was enough to keep you entertained for a while. Inuyasha, being Inuyasha, didn’t let it go very easily either. For the rest of the night, he’d randomly burst with questions of your intent when bothering him that way.
As the days passed, you began to truly wonder if he’d ever been close to anyone intimately. Based on his reactions to any hint of flirting or closeness that struck between the two of you, you couldn’t help thinking he must be a virgin. Something about that excited you. Especially when you realize how many times in the past you and Inuyasha were close to sharing a passionate kiss. Perhaps he’s pulled away because he’s worried about admitting the truth. The thought of being the one to show him a world of pleasure makes your body get warm all over, and your mind runs wild with fantasies.
After a long stretch of travel without much rest, the two of you come to a village. Inuyasha is suspicious of everyone your paths cross, as usual, but eventually, you manage to talk him into going to an inn for the night. He stubbornly waits outside while you go in to speak with the innkeeper about getting a room for the night.
“How many guests?” the innkeeper asks politely.
“Two.”
“We only have one bed available for the night, is that okay?”
You hesitate for a moment, but then you realize this could be the opportunity you’ve been waiting for.
“That will be fine,” you smile. She tells you which room you’ll be in for the night, and you arrange for some hot water to be brought in for a bath. Then, you go out to tell Inuyasha the news.
“I got a room, but they only had one bed available,” you explain.
“One bed? That’s ridiculous! We can’t sleep in the same bed?”
“Why not?” you ask curiously. Immediately his cheeks break out into a bright red blush as he stutters over his words, trying to come up with an excuse while avoiding giving himself away. He relents but not without pouting the entire time he follows you to the room. You slide the door open to see the bath has been prepared in a corner with a pair of partitions for privacy.
“I’m gonna have a bath,” you tell him with a sweet smile.
You go over to the tub and close the partitions, but you set the lamp at just the right angle for him to be able to see your silhouette through them.
What you’re hoping for is for Inuyasha to see this and get excited. What you don’t know, however, is that he’s going downright crazy from the sight. As you take off your clothes, he can clearly make out the shape of your body. He can imagine himself holding onto the fat that rounds out your hips and kissing the curve of your tits. His whole body feels hot as his cock twitches in his pants. He’s almost disappointed when you sink into the bath, and he can no longer see your gorgeous form. He lets out a soft, frustrated growl and goes outside. He makes sure to slam the door as he leaves. If you didn’t know Inuyasha as well as you do, you’d mistake this for anger. Instead, you know, he’s just making sure your attention is still on him even if he’s gone.
Hours later, after having dinner, you lay down on the bed to rest. It’s late when Inuyasha returns. You can hear him as he takes off the top layer of his hakama, then he settles into the bed beside you. He keeps a bit of distance between you, but soon you’re closing it. You roll over and snuggle against his side.
“Stop that,” he groans and tries to push you away.
“But it’s cold,” you pout softly. He lets out an annoyed sigh, but then instead of trying to push you again, he wraps his arms around you. You lay your head on his chest and your hand rests on his stomach.
“Is this okay?” you ask softly, wanting to comfort him.
“I guess,” he huffs.
You lay close for a moment, then slowly begin moving your hand over his stomach. You lean in closer to press a soft kiss on his neck. Inuyasha shudders softly and his arms tighten around your body. You take this as a sign to continue showering him in affection. You leave a trail of kisses along the curve of his neck until you find the spot that makes him let out a small, almost incomprehensible, whimper. For a while you focus your attention there, sucking and biting softly, while also caressing his abdomen.
“W-what are you doing?”
“Do you like it?” you ask, your breath soft and warm against his skin. He doesn’t answer, and this makes you feel like you’ve made a mistake. You start to pull away, but his grip on you tightens. In the darkness of the inn room, you smirk at knowing you’ve gotten your way. You scoot a little closer so your body is pressed right up against his. Your hand moves down to his lower abdomen, and your fingers brush against the growing bulge in his pants. He lets out a strangled moan and his hips instinctively raise to meet your touch. You try to move your hand away, but he catches your wrist.
“Please,” he almost seems to be pleading. You begin palming him through his pants.
“Inuyasha, have you ever had anyone touch you like this?” His silence is all the answers you need. You promise yourself you’ll take care of him, and show him not just lust but love. You reach up to cup his cheek gently and pull his face closer. Finally, you pull him in for a soft kiss. He sinks into it almost immediately, his hand rests on your hip. He squeezes it as the kiss deepens. Your tongues rub against one another in a sensual dance. You moan softly.
“Can I take your clothes off?” you ask.
He nods eagerly and you sit up. You carefully remove the rest of his clothes until his muscular, strong form is laid out in front of you. You begin kissing him gently on his chest, then slowly down his stomach until you reach the line of white hair leading toward his cock.
“Do you want me to keep going?” you ask excitedly.
“Y-yeah,” he gasps.
You keep going, kissing down the white trail of hair until you’re kissing the base of his cock. You take him in your hand and begin stroking him slowly. His cock throbs in your hand, already reacting strongly to your touch. It’s not long before you feel a bead of precum drip onto your hand. You lick it off, following it all the way to the tip of his cock. He whines softly, and his hand tangles in your hair as you continue licking and sucking on the tip of his cock. Your tongue swirls around the tip of his cock and you let out a moan at the taste of him on your tongue.
“Shit,” he groans as he resists the urge to buck his hips. As you slowly sink down lower, he can already feel himself tinkering on the edge. He pulls you off his cock, and gives you a pitiful look that would be impossible for anyone to refuse.
“I need more,” he gasps. “Please.”
It doesn’t take any more begging for you to give in to his whims. After all, just the thought of showing him pleasure has been rattling your brain for weeks now and driving you crazy. You strip off your nightgown and straddle his hips. His hard cock presses against your hole as you settle on top of him. You don’t have time to ask for further consent before he’s grinding against you, practically begging for you to sink down on his cock.
Your hands rest on his chest as you take him inside of you. The feeling of your warm walls enveloping his cock is too much to bear. His hand rests on your hips as he watches you move. Your hips roll in a steady rhythm as you give both of you a moment to acclimate to his size stretching your hole. You increase your pace harder and faster until the sounds of both of your moans fill the air of the room. Your eyes are just starting to flutter closed when you suddenly feel warmth filling your core. Inuyasha practically howls with pleasure as he cums. You slow to a stop before pulling off of him. You’re content to teach him more about this new world of pleasure. You’re so excited about having finally crossed this threshold you don’t think twice about his premature cumming. You pull off his cock to settle beside him as he tries to catch his breath. You kiss his cheek and cuddle against him.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he growls softly as he pushes you onto your stomach.
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"end of beginning" - richie jerimovich
summary: y/n struggles against the ghost of who they used to be (inspired by djo's end of beginning)
pairing: richie jerimovich x reader + platonic carmy x reader
word count: 1.1k
continuation of scott street | next
“So you came back just to gentrify the city?” Richie had a smile on his face, but Y/N saw through it. The man didn’t handle change well, and they knew he hated looking around the place he grew up and realizing that nearly everything looked different.
Y/N hated it too, but they knew change was inevitable. Most times it was easier to just accept it, move on, and eventually forget the way things used to be. Some things were more difficult to forget than others, though. “It’s just a coffee shop,” Y/N fought hard to not slip into old, aggressive habits, but it was difficult when it came to dealing with Richie. “And not some corporate bullshit—locally owned, sourced, all that ethical junk.”
He scoffed, “Ain’t it enough that you’re renovating that building? Probably skyrocket rent, force people out, bring in the rich. The hell are you here for, anyway?”
“People were paying way too much for that shithole in the first place. I’m just making it liveable.” Y/N knew it was worthless to fight with him, they might as well be throwing punches at a brick wall. “I’m here to see Carmy. Talk business.”
“You’re roping him into this shit now!? Kid’s brain is already always five seconds away from blowing up.” He cut himself off to give a grandiose greeting to one of the regulars and pass a sandwich to another. “She’s just using Carmy as an excuse to come see me, Jerry,” he playfully whapped the customer’s arm, “I’m irresistible.”
“You’re an unfortunate fixture of this place,” Y/N tossed over their shoulder, walking away toward the little office in the kitchen. There was probably a level of truth to what he was saying, but Y/N would never admit that to him—or themself—in a million years. Chicago reminded them of a version of themself that took a lot of work to leave in the past. People may change as they grow, but the person they used to be never really dies. It just lays dormant, buried deep within until something wakes it up.
Carmy’s hand momentarily clapping them on the shoulder saved them from the downward spiral of introspection. “Sorry, this place is a mess.” He scrambled to move a stack of papers off the spare chair, sitting them on the desk and nearly causing an avalanche. Y/N sat down before he could tell them to. “He bother you? What’s up?”
Y/N suddenly felt bad for taking up Carmy’s offer to go over their business proposal. He barely spared them a glance as he shuffled through papers and periodically rubbed his forehead.
“He always bothers me—I can handle him.” Carmy scoffed, mumbling “sure you can” as he inspected an invoice hopefully before shoving it back into a folder.
“Is this a bad time? I can go if you’re too busy.” Y/N knew their offer was futile—it was always a bad time and Carmy was always busy. He snapped out of his search and gave Y/N an apologetic look. “No, no, I got time. Sorry, I just—”
“I get it, Carm. No need to apologize.”
“Yeah, yeah, right,” Carmy rubbed his eyes and gave Y/N a quick once-over before giving them a quick smile, “I guess, uh, if anyone gets it, it would be you.”
Y/N held Carmy’s gaze, but they didn’t break the silence. They knew that Carmy had more to say, and the only way to ensure that he’d say it was to leave the ball in his court.
“Some days I feel like my head’s ‘bout to explode,” the ghost of a sad smile was on his face, “but I’d rather keep busy than think too deeply into things.”
The manila envelope in Y/N’s hands mocked them along with Carmy’s words. They both knew Y/N was sinking on the same boat. Y/N could easily deflect by giving him some bullshit advice, but it would just be hypocrisy. The pair fell into a beat of silence as Y/N looked at the floor, contemplating their next steps.
“When I first moved away, I hated coming back to visit. Seeing all the places I used to hang out, the people I used to be close with…” Y/N trailed off for a moment before locking eyes with Carmy, “so I just stopped coming back. Pretended to be someone I’m not in a place I’m not sure I even belonged in. I thought I had changed, but being here just makes me realize that I’m the same person I always was. The same person I’ll probably always be.”
Carmy was softly nodding his head when Y/N continued in a much smaller voice, “I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing, but it is what it is. Might as well keep going until I can’t anymore.”
He furrowed his brows, frowning a bit, “sorry for making you come here. I know it’s not eas—”
“Jesus, Carmy, quit apologizing.” He wasn’t wrong, though. Y/N felt antsy at the restaurant. There were too many memories in that place—both good and bad—and Richie was a very loud reminder of their past. “If I didn’t want to put up with him—with all of it—I would just not come. Can’t hide forever.”
He made to say more, but was interrupted by a loud “yo!” as Richie’s lanky frame entered the room. “My ears are ringing,” he gently shoved Y/N’s shoulder with the back of his hand, “talking shit?”
“On you? Always.” Y/N wasn’t lying when they said they were fine being around Richie. The man’s presence brought a confusing mixture of anxiety, anger, and comfort. There’s no fool like an old fool—whatever that means.
Y/N fell into their own thoughts as the two men argued about the front of house coverage. They were pulled back into reality when they heard Tina yelling for Carmy in the kitchen. Y/N didn’t realize they were staring at Richie until Carmy passed in front of him to leave. Richie furrowed his brow as he looked back at Y/N.
“You good? You look like shit—got that thousand yard stare.”
“I’m fine.” The pair slipped into a staring competition. This wasn’t a conversation Y/N wanted to have, and they could feel him inspecting the darkening circles under their eyes and their frizzy hair.
He broke the silence, “what are we?”
“I know you’re not asking me this question right now,” Y/N sputtered.
“I mean, we’re friends, right?” Richie gestured vaguely between them, and the scattered mess of thoughts Y/N had been having for the past few months dropped on their head like a bucket of cold water.
“I don’t know, Richie.”
His head bobbed as he turned to the doorway, offering Y/N nothing in response but a mumbled “right.” He didn’t look back, and Y/N didn’t follow.
Y/N wasn’t sure if they knew the answer to that question back when they were together, and they sure as hell didn’t know the answer now.
~~~
part three
#richie jerimovich x you#richie jerimovich x reader#richie jerimovich#richie the bear#carmy berzatto#the bear fanfiction#the bear x reader#the bear fic#the bear fx#the bear hulu#the bear
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