#i haven't moved on from this yet. btw. i'm still here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

talaok · 1 year

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Poor, naive, Marcus

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Joel is the boss of a group of criminals in the QZ, and you're his little bunny everyone knows better than to look at, but when Marcus, one of his guys, breaks that rule, Joel decides to teach him a lesson.

Warnings: I'm not gonna lie, this is 2.8 k of porn so... violence, smut | very very much exhibitionism, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, and of course lots of daddy-kink, praising, and pet naming

a/n: This is self-indulgence at its core, you guys don't understand how much I love them

Btw this is kind of a part 2 to this

He was drunk enough not to realize what he was doing, or drunk enough not to care at all.

His hands were roaming every inch of your body, groaning and painting as if just the feel of your skin was bringing him pleasure, which, truth be told, it probably was.

Your eyes were closed, but you didn't need to see to know people were staring, everyone was staring, whispering, gasping as they watched Marcus, oh poor Marcus, dance with you in the middle of the bar.

The people on the makeshift dancefloor had taken one, two, five steps away from you as if they sensed what was inevitably coming.

But Marcus, poor naive Marcus, he was too busy burying his face between your shoulder and neck to even notice.

"you smell so good" he groaned, forcing you flush against him and his evident bulge.

You couldn't help but chuckle.

Just one of the many advantages of being, or better, having been the boss' bunny.

"thank you" you whispered, playing with his long messy hair as he started kissing your neck as if his life depended on it.

"You like that?"

"yeah Marcus, you're doing good" You stifled a laugh, as he looked at you like a lost puppy

"O-ok" he nodded, "It's just that- you're very beautiful, and I-"

You only needed to smile to shut him up

"Marcus" you cooed "stop talking"

He nodded, again, and you returned to swaying your body to the music, his lips back on your skin.

You heard the people moving out of the way before you heard the door slam against the wall.

You shouldn't, you really shouldn't have, but the smile on your lips just really brought itself to life.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He wasn't talking to you.

Marcus, poor Marcus, looked like he was about to go number one, right there in front of everyone.

The quiet whispers that filled the smoky air just moments before had ceased,

even the music had stopped.

That's what he did.

The boss had arrived, and time had stopped.

You turned around, and there he was, in all his glory... he did look disheveled though, like he had run here, like you had interrupted something you were sure must have been very important.

But he wasn't looking at you, the primordial rage in his eyes was solely directed to the man next to you.

"You deaf? I asked you what the fuck you think you're doing" He took a step closer to him.

Joel wasn't that much taller than Marcus, but right now, hell, right now he looked seven feet tall, and ready to crush him with his bare hands.

"I-I"

"You what?" he gripped the collar of his shirt "What?" he spat, inching closer to his face.

"I didn't- I din-"

"I haven't even broken your yaw yet and you already can't talk" Joel snickered,

"Bunny, if you wanted to make me pay, you could have at least found yourself a man"

You had to bite your grin down,

No, you're still mad at him

"I didn't know you were together!" Marcus suddenly yelled.

Joel took his sweet time tearing his gaze off of you.

The skirt you chose, the same short, short one he had gifted you, had definitely been noticed.

"She-She told me you broke up. T-that it was over- "

"Did she, now?"

"Y-yes, Boss, I swear" he nodded vigorously "I would have never touched her if I'd-"

And just like that,

Marcus' words died in his throat once Joel had wrapped his big hands around it.

"N-no- pleas-e"

He was barely breathing, his eyes looking like they were ready to pop out of his skull.

"Joel" you breathed

He didn't budge, not of one inch.

His fingers stayed still around Marcus' neck

You sighed, stepping closer, close enough to place a hand on his shoulder, close enough to stand on your toes and reach your mouth just right to his ear.

"Daddy" you whispered "let him go"

And so he did.

A sigh of relief was breathed by everyone in the room, everyone except Marcus, who was currently coughing his way back to life.

Joel's dark eyes were trained on you now.

"EVERYONE OUT"

Bodies scurried out the door in less than ten seconds.

Marcus, oh poor Marcus, went to get away with them.

"not you" Joel didn't even need to glance at him to grab his forearm.

He stumbled backward, panic oozing off his every pore.

"B-boss"

"Shut the fuck up before I make you"

That's all he said, before he pushed him to the side like a piece of trash.

Marcus nearly knocked over a chair.

"Joe-" you tried, as he walked closer to you.

"You told him we broke up" he cut you off

"We did" you reminded him, with a tilt of your head

"I don't remember agreeing to that"

You scowled

"That's not how breaking up works"

"and why not?" he was close enough to move some hair out of your face, his poisonous touch lingering on your skin like a curse and a blessing altogether.

"because I'm not one of your men, Joel, I do what I want"

He chuckled at your words, the vibrations of his voice bouncing off the filthy walls.

"Oh trust me, bunny, I know" he spoke, his mouth inches from yours "I know"

"Well then you should also know that we're done"

He watched you for a moment longer, before turning to Marcus, who was staring from the corner.

"Did he touch you?" he asked, turning back

"I think you already know the answer to that"

"Did he kiss you?"

You stayed silent.

Not because the answer was yes, but because a part of you, if not all of you, enjoyed torturing him.

"did you?" he turned back to the terrified man "Did you kiss my girl?"

"n-no" he immediately spat "No Boss I would n-"

"Is he telling the truth?"

You bit your lip, watching his eyes fall to the motion.

"He kissed my neck"

And in a second, his gun was in his hand and he was stalking toward Marcus.

"Don't kill him"

"why not?"

"yeah please listen to he-" With the barrel of a gun to his temple, it seems talking didn't come as easy.

"I'd have all the reasons," he said "he touched you"

You looked at him, really looked at him.

"Don't" you told him, and of course, as always, he obeyed.

"Sit down" Joel ordered him, but he was shaking.

Time stilled as he pulled the trigger, the wall behind Marcus crumbling as a bullet flew right through it.

"sit down or the next one goes through your skull"

He didn't need to be told twice.

"the things I do for you, bunny" he shook his head, sighing as he walked back to you.

You let your gaze travel to Marcus. He was seated to your right, staring at you, begging, pleading you to do something.

Poor, naive Marcus, he really didn't know what he had gotten himself into.

Joel was watching you like you were a drug and he an addict in withdrawal.

"where?" he asked his voice dangerously low.

He was inches from you. He had never been good at keeping his distance, and you were backed up against one of the tables.

"where what?"

"where did he kiss you?"

"I already told you Joel," you said "My neck"

"here?" he breathed, his digit grazing the skin just below your ear

You shook your head

"lower?"

You nodded

"Here?" his finger was against your pulse

"lower" you could only whisper

"here" he bent down to murmur against your skin, before letting his lips do the rest.

He kissed you, and there it was... that electricity only he was capable of riling up in you.

"Joel..." you whimpered, as he grabbed your waist and started a slow trail of hot hot kisses up your neck.

he groaned, feeling the effect he was having on you.

"Now see Marcus" he spoke more loudly now in between kisses "That's where you went wrong... She likes it a lot more when you kiss her here" he smirked, kissing you below your ear "Ain't that right, bunny?"

You bit your lip, stifling your answer

"don't get shy now, bunny, tell him"

"I do" you surrendered, biting down a moan "I-I"

"I know sweetheart, I know" he cooed, his trail finally leaning towards your mouth "I know" he murmured a moment before kissing you.

His lips crashed with yours in a mess of moans and whimpers, as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth.

One of his hands was gripping your ass, undoubtedly hiking your skirt up enough for more of your skin to be showing, while his other hand was holding the back of your head and pushing you flush against him, leaving you no room to breathe.

"fuck bunny" he groaned "he kissed you like this?"

"no-no" you mumbled, reaching for his mouth again.

"And he touched you like this?"

You let out a gasp, as his hand made quick work of seeping into your panties.

"Did he?" he ghosted your mouth as two of his thick, oh-so-thick fingers slid between your folds, getting closer to your entrance.

"N-no he didn't"

He licked a stripe up your neck and whispered to your ear

"And who are you this wet for, bunny?" he teased, as his thumb found your clit "Did Marcus there do this?"

He bit your earlobe as he pushed two fingers inside, and what came out of your mouth was more a scream than a moan.

Both your arms flew to the back of his neck, holding for dear life.

"No!" you wined, as he started moving his digits in and out and curling them right into that spot he knew so well "It's all you daddy- all you" you promised, your voice so thin it was more of a whisper.

"hear that Marcus?" he asked the man to his right as if he wasn't two knuckles deep inside you

"I don't think he heard bunny" he murmured sultrily as his thumb started circling your bud "Tell him darlin', tell him how wet you are for me"

"Ah-I'm-I'm so wet daddy, I'm so so-" You had to shut your eyes and bite down your bottom lip as the feeling got to be too much.

"that's my good girl" he breathed, his fingers still working relentlessly "You comin' bunny, you gonna cum for me?"

You could feel your orgasm approach.

"mh-mh" you could only hum

"no no now" he tutted, grabbing your chin to have you look up at him "Use that pretty mouth of yours and answer me"

Your walls were squeezing his fingers and with each rut of his thumb against your clit a shock of electricity made its way up your spine.

Marcus was watching, you realized, as you opened your eyes. He was staring, knowing that he shouldn't have, but not being able not to.

"f-fuck" you moaned "I'm-god Daddy I'm coming!"

"that's better" he smirked "That's real good sweetheart" he breathed, watching you come apart "Now give it to me, come all over my fingers bunny"

And to that- to that you came, wailing and moaning like you were desperate, and screaming was the only way to make it better.

Your eyes were still closed as he retracted his fingers, and only when you heard a low humming, did you open them back up again.

He had his fingers in your mouth, sucking on them as if they were a lollipop.

"She's as sweet as honey Marcus" He looked at him " 's too bad you're never gonna get to taste her"

"is he bunny?" he asked, leaning into you again

"no"

"that's right" He grinned "now," he said, "what do you say we show Marcus what else he's never gonna get mh?"

"how 'bout we show him how you're all mine, and only I get to touch you?"

"yes" you could only whimper, as you nodded slowly, your brain a fuzzy mess.

"Yeah?"

"yes, daddy, please" you begged now, your hands raking down his chest until they reached the tent in his overused jeans.

"God bunny, you have no idea what you do to me" he groaned kissing the corner of your mouth.

"jump on the table"

You did so with no hesitation as he unfastened his belt and zipper in record time.

"You gonna be good for me now?" he asked, pulling his painfully hard cock out of his briefs "Gonna let me take care of you like you need to?"

"yes" you kissed him "Yes please please pl-"

"always so good for me" he bit your lip, moving your panties to the side and positioning himself at your entrance, the head of his dick rubbing against your slit.

"my pretty bunny" he breathed, finally pushing in.

"fuck" you cried, wrapping your legs around him...or at least trying to.

He groaned loudly, his head falling to your neck " 've missed you baby, missed this pussy so much-"

"I missed you too daddy" you confessed,

"barely slept last night without you by my side bunny" he groaned, starting to move and causing a gasp to your throat "Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you y'know" his words tickled against your ear "I don't want you to ever do that again bunny" he spoke, his thrust so slow and yet so agonizingly deep "I need you"

And there it was, the Joel Miller only you knew.

"I won't" you whispered, one of your hands gripping his hair while the other kept you stable on the table

"you promise?"

"I promise Daddy" You kissed the skin of his neck you could access "It's me and you"

You felt him smile against your shoulder

"me and you" he repeated your words, leaning away to look at you.

You both smiled at each other like idiots, but before you could fully take the moment in, he thrust out and inside of you so harshly and so fucking deeply that your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

"oh my god" you started chanting, your head falling backward.

"you're so tight" he breathed, rolling his hips as he angled his cock to ruin you completely "She's so tight Marcus" he spoke more loudly, grinning like a bastard.

You chuckled, followed by him, and before you knew it, he was kissing you, and it wasn't a pretty kiss, oh no, it was a mess of moans and groans and teeth and yet it felt better than anything else in this world.

"fuck" you moaned "You feel so good, daddy"

"yeah?" he sucked in a breath, still smirking "Say it a little louder- tell Marcus who only gets to touch you- who you belong to baby"

"you daddy" you screamed "I'm yours- only yours"

"that's right" he picked up his pace "and is anyone else ever gonna touch this precious little body of yours?"

"n-no" you muttered, ecstasy taking over your body "O-only you"

"atta girl" he murmured his hands gripping your waist to force himself deeper "You gonna give me another one bunny?" he watched your fucked out self "You gonna squeeze me real good like you do and let me fill you up with my come, sweetheart?"

"yes" you whined "Yes please fill me up, Daddy"

"After you bunny, you know how it works" he smirked

"I'm almost there-" you gasped "I'm coming daddy. I'm-"

And before you knew it a tsunami of pleasure had overcome you. Your legs were shaking, your eyes were teary and every part of your body felt both on fire and never more alive.

He came with a loud groan right after you, painting your insides with endless ropes of his come.

" I love you bunny," he said, after catching his breath

"I love you too daddy" you promised, kissing him with a gentleness he only enjoyed receiving by you.

"I wish we could go for another round but I got business to take care of" he sighed, nodding to... Oh right, Marcus was still there.

You couldn't help the giggle fleeing your lips.

He shook his head as he watched that heartstopping smile of yours "You go, David will take you home, I don't want you to see this" he said, pulling out of you and tucking himself back into his pants.

"Joel..." you pouted, "you said you weren't gonna kill him"

He raised his eyebrows "You were serious?"

"of course I was"

"bunny..." he groaned, letting his forehead fall to yours

"No. No Joel I don't want you to kill him"

He looked into your eyes for a moment, trying to understand how serious you were.

"Can I at least have a little fun with him?" he asked

"Fine" you agreed "but don't hit his face" you said, making him frown "I kinda like his face" you explained

He smiled before meeting his lips with yours again "Your wish is my command, bunny"

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coffeeshades · 5 months

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credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART V

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). mentions of sex. angst. cussing, age gap, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: hi everyone! i know i owe you guys SO MUCH so here's a short lil chapter to quench your thirst. more on the way i promise!!! btw this isn't proofread so if u spot any mistakes hit me up. happy reading (or not cause the angst won once again besties, sorry in advance) <3

masterlist!

August 23rd, 2019

Anaheim, California

You thought that having a shot of tequila would take off the edge of anxiety that had you shaking in your seat, but there you were taking another one, and the tingling in your hands still hadn’t ceased. "Want another?" Renata asked, a bottle in hand and a glint of worry in her eyes as she noticed your unsteady movements. You shook your head; you wouldn't risk it with a third. She waited until the hair and makeup team left the room before putting a hand on your shoulder, the cold of her ring pressing into your skin. "You want to talk about it?"

"It's just nerves," you mumbled, toying with your fingers, trying to brush off her concern. But Renata wasn't convinced, her gaze piercing through your facade. "Is it because of—" she said before you cut her off.

"No," you interrupted firmly, not wanting to dive into that topic. Renata nodded, understanding your reluctance. She simply squeezed your shoulder in silent support, knowing damn well what it was about. As she started to lead you out of the room, you continued. "We haven't seen each other in months."

There it is.

"And the last time we talked, he basically told me he didn't want to do anything with me." Renata's eyes softened; her empathy evident. "He didn't say that," she murmured, her grip on your shoulder tightening.

Your eyes met hers, filled with anger and confusion. "He did. He slept with me and then decided that was it." Renata's expression turned grim as she guided you out of the halls and onto the red carpet. She knew there was more to it than what you were letting on, but who was she to pry?

She faced you while gently fixing your hair as you continued. "But I'm with someone else now, and I'm happy, and I just need to get my shit together." Renata nodded. "You deserve to be happy and move on from this," she said softly.

The chatter of everyone on the carpet and the click of cameras surrounded you both, louder than before. "It'll be just a couple of interviews and photos now. After that, you and—" she hesitated.

"It's okay, you can say his name, Ren."

"You and Pedro will be taken into a photo studio for the official portraits," Renata finished. "Let's just make this quick and painless."

"I can assure you this will be everything except quick and painless," you replied with a forced smile, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach. "But I appreciate your attempt to lighten the mood." She mouthed sorry for a moment before leading you both towards the line of press, where the bright lights and flashing cameras awaited. As you stepped into position to talk to the reporters, you reminded yourself to take a deep breath and stay composed, knowing that it would be okay.

•••

It was, in fact, not okay.

The groan that escaped your lips and the rolling of your eyes were unavoidable. You'd managed to stay clear of him for as long as you could—a complete victory by your standards—and now, with only seconds before you escaped, the very man you had tried to evade appeared before you.

Being within meters of him now, all those firsts, lasts, and never agains were as sharp and vivid as they'd ever been, forming a knot of unease in your chest that made breathing difficult. You hadn't spoken yet, both preoccupied with the rush of media attention surrounding you.

Nonetheless, you took quick glances at him whenever you could.

"Time for the portraits," Renata whispered, as you finished talking to a reporter for the LA Times. "Looking forward to seeing the show!" you nodded, trying to keep your smile in place as you followed Renata. It was a small room with bright lights and a white backdrop, but all you could focus on was the man standing across from you, getting his hair touched up by a stylist. Your own team hovered around you, adjusting your outfit and makeup, but your eyes kept drifting back to him.

The photographer introduced herself, and you were instructed to stand in the middle of the backdrop. You looked each other up and down. God, he looked good, you thought. And then you cursed yourself. Your groan at the sight of him was barely audible, but Renata shot you a knowing look.

"You kinda stole my look," he said, raising an eyebrow. The audacity of this man was infurating. How dare he, after what happened, address you so casually, like nothing has changed between you two?

"Hm, no, you kinda stole my look," you retorted, no emotion in your voice. The tension between you was palpable as the photographer began snapping photos, capturing the silent competition between you two. He was wearing a floral shirt that perfectly complemented your own outfit—a corset-like black top with floral details and black dress pants. However, one little detail caught your eye: the shiny gold chain decorating his neck.

Stop, don't go there. It suddenly became necessary to wash away the awful thought that little piece of jewelry was attractive in the slightest and that cold shower and glass of wine you had been looking forward to at home would now have to happen—but instead of a glass, it would be a whole bottle.

"Okay guys, now let's take some shots pretending to laugh together," the photographer suggested, breaking the tension. You both shared a forced smile, trying to outdo each other in the fake laughter department. "And get closer, please," she added, gesturing for you to move in towards each other. As you leaned in, you couldn't help but notice the faint scent of his cologne. "Pedro, put your arm around her waist," the photographer instructed, prompting Pedro to look down on you.

"Can I?" he asked, ever so politely. The question transported you to a room in Chile, where the tips of his fingers were under your shorts and your mouths were enticingly close.

Stop, stop, stop.

"Sure, whatever," you replied, trying to shake off the memories flooding back. Pedro hesitated for a moment before standing behind you and gently placing his arm around your waist—a moment of unexpected intimacy as your hand followed and rested on top of his. The photographer snapped the picture just as you forced another smile, masking the turmoil within.

"Are we done?" Pedro asked, his voice rumbling in your ear. Despite his complaints, he enjoyed doing photoshoots. They catered to his need to show off.

"Yes, we have everything we need. Thanks guys!"

Both of you quickly separated, relieved to put some distance between yourselves. You didn't say another word as you both gathered your things and headed out of the studio, tension lingering in the air, unsure of what would come next and hating every second of the awkwardness that now hung between you.

•••

The D23 Expo was not turning out to be the fun experience you had hoped for. You've been sitting in the panel room with the rest of the cast and crew for about half an hour, actively avoiding eye contact with the source of your anxiety. Dave was talking about what a huge honor it is to continue his Star Wars journey with a live action series, having previously only worked on animated projects. Jon followed suit, expressing his excitement for the opportunity to develop the series on a more cinematic scale.

Everyone was buzzing with enthusiasm, but you.

"Now I'm going to give the floor to the fans for any questions," the moderator announced, turning towards the crowd with a smile. A teenager in the front row was handed a microphone, anticipation rippling through the audience as she prepared to ask her question.

"Hi, my name's Sarah, and I just wanted to say how thrilled I am for this new series. I am a huge fan of Star Wars, and pretty much everyone here," she said, "especially you and Pedro," gesturing towards you and finally asking the question you've successfully avoided answering all night. "I know you've been friends for a long time. Can you share any behind-the-scenes stories from filming, and how was it working together on this project?"

"Oh, they have a lot. These two were menaces on set," Jon interjected, eliciting laughter from the audience. You exchanged a knowing glance with Pedro before sharing a bright smile with the girl. "I think Jon is specifically referring to the time I broke Pedro's nose and ended up in the hospital."

The audience erupted into a mix of laughter and gasps, clearly entertained by the unexpected revelation as you continued to recount the hilarious mishap. "But yeah, overall, it was definitely a fun and memorable experience working together. We had some great times on set, despite the occasional injury," you added with a chuckle.

"Yeah, she's a brilliant scene partner; I wouldn't change a thing about it," Pedro chimed in, nodding in agreement. If you didn't know better, you would think he actually meant it. The girl beamed at the two of you, clearly enjoying the interaction between you and Pedro, oblivious to the fact that you couldn't wait to get out of there and never see him again.

The moderator intervened, clearly interested in picking up more about the dynamics. "Now that it's been brought up, I was one of the few people who got to see the first episode yesterday, and I have to say there's a lot of on-screen chemistry between the two of you. Is it possible that a romantic relationship will develop in future episodes?"

The answer escaped from your lips instantly. "Not that we can confirm or deny anything at this point, but I think that these characters are very different and have a complex relationship that will continue to evolve as the series progresses, and maybe they work better as friends or allies rather than romantically involved." The moderator nodded, satisfied with the somewhat vague response.

Pedro's eyes caught yours, puzzled by the subtle shift in your tone, before adding, "But I wouldn't rule that out completely."

He was so infuriatingly annoying.

•••

You were in the same room; circling each other the entire day, but he still missed you so much that a brief moment of broken eye contact sent a deep ache cutting through his chest.

Pedro watched you exit the panel room, knowing that he needed to find a way to talk to you. He called your name, making you stop in your tracks and turn around, your face unreadable. Pedro hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to approach you, before finally blurting out, "Hey, do you have a sec?"

He saw you reluctantly give your PA a nod, motioning for her to leave the both of you alone.

Pedro felt tension slip through him and iron in his spine, and he looked around swiftly to see if anyone was paying attention to them. He spotted a door leading to an empty room and gestured for you to follow him inside. As you both entered the room, Pedro closed the door behind you.

This conversation is inevitable.

Pedro waited for a moment before speaking. "We're working together, and will continue to do so."

"So?" your voice was cold and guarded.

He took a deep breath before continuing, "I think we should try to find a way to make it work."

"I think it's working well enough as it is," you replied, crossing your arms. Pedro couldn't help but laugh at your stubbornness. "Come on, we both know that's not true. You've avoided me all day. People are asking if things are okay between us."

"Isn't that what you wanted, though?"

Pedro shook his head. "What? I never said that."

"You might as well have," you spat back. "Because the way I see it, you don't want anything to do with me." He wanted to reach out, grab your hand and tell you that's not all what he meant but he stopped.

You are being so careful with each other now. It was breaking Pedro’s heart a little.

"That's not true. It drives me crazy when you won’t talk to me,” he muttered. "I…just didn't want to complicate things back then."

"Well, things got complicated the moment we slept together," you reminded him. "And that's on both of us."

Pedro sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. "I know," he said softly. "I'm sorry… I didn't handle that conversation very well. I was…" he can't bring himself to finish the sentence. "I don't know."

"You have a tendency of hurting my feelings, disappearing, and then coming back asking for forgiveness," your words come out measured and unexpectedly calm. Bordering on cold.

It was such a sharp, perfect little sting that it made heat pool in his stomach. It made him want to cry.

He said your name ever so tenderly, a plea in his voice.

"I don't know what you want from me," you say, a defeated tone lacing your words. "I moved on, and yet, you keep coming back, reopening old wounds. It happens every time. I can't keep doing this dance with you."

"Yeah, you moved on," and before he can stop himself, Pedro blurts out, dripping in sarcasm, "Quite fast."

Pedro still remembers the shiver that ran down his spine when he picked up his phone one morning, only to see you parading around with Daniel on social media. The worst part was that he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by his response. He could tell it echoed through the small space and grated on your every last nerve.

"Fuck you."

A snarl forms on his face, and his upper lip slightly curls. His anger rising to match your own. "Is that all you have to say?" Pedro's voice is laced with bitterness as he struggles to keep his emotions in check. Your eyes burning through him, the air suffocating.

"I had to move on," you simply reply. "You should try it as well." you slipped past him, bumping into his shoulder as you made your way out of the room, leaving him there, trying to remember why he had convinced himself that everything was safer this way because you were too important to risk losing, when in reality, he had already lost you.

And Pedro tries not to love you. He really tries.

a/n: don't kill me please, i know. their time will come, i just need them to reaaaally go through it.

Reblog or like if you enjoyed it! thank you for reading :)

#love is complicated #thank you so much everyone for the support mwah #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal angst

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junowritings · 10 months

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Hello ☺️💚

I hope I can request something, if they are closed please feel free to delete this 🌺🌺

I absolutely I adored your NRC amnesiac MC story with the dorms and would love to see more. It just hit all the tropes I love so much and adore.

Maybe with the rest of the dorms? As scenarios?? Or imagines?? (Honestly I’m a confused when it comes to those terms, so whichever is easier for you)

With pomefiore, ignihyde, and diasomnia? I feel like Vil is going to take one look at mc and go “okay, time to take care of another potato” but lovingly, ignihyde is going ortho is “I have another sibling” and gosh diasomnia is practically family and lilia is going “time to adopt another one 👏👏”

I just found the idea so so cute, but feel free to do whatever you want ☺️🌺

Right so first off I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I'M SO HAPPY YOU LIKED THE ORIGINAL ONE!!! Also thank you so much for all the kind comments that you leave on my post I see every single one and it still makes my day to re-read them!

But also GOD I love this idea too and I got way too carried away with this. There's a lot of TWST I gotta catch up on (haven't been able to start chapter 7 yet) so I had to work with what I've got in terms of knowledge of Diasomnia.

I hope this was well worth the wait~! (OG scenario here btw)

Pomefiore

♡ Time passes at Night Raven College, and life continues to move on, as it always has. It’s been months without a single shred of your memories resurfacing, and with no sign of anything returning anytime soon the attention has turned from your past, to your present. Your memory loss has become a simple fact of life at this point, a reality that you had to put on the back burner with everything else that had happened since your arrival and during the winter holidays. You’re thankful that the needless prodding seems to have died down by the time that students start returning back to the school and classes resume. Things return to the only sense of normalcy you’ve ever known, and you think you can get used to this without another incident.

♡ Until VDC happens.

♡ Ramshackle is the only place you have to call home, but even you can admit that it needs a lot of work. It’s a poor excuse for a building, considering the state that it had been left in far before anyone called it home. It at least had running water, and electricity, but compared to the other dorms and their meticulous upkeep by both students and staff, Ramshackle is most certainly the odd dorm out with only two members and a handful of ghosts to its name. And yet it’s the place that the headmaster deems an acceptable place to host the VDC group during their month ‘training camp’.

♡ It makes it easier knowing that you’re good friends with the majority of the group, having been through plenty before the training camp even started. In some weird way it’s kind of like a month-long sleepover with your friends and classmates, not unlike the times Kalim’s dragged you over to Scarabia for the night in the name of making fond memories. Still, you can’t help but feel cautious around the Pomfiore members you now have living under your roof, and how little you actually know about them.

♡ By this point, the fact that you’ve got no memories prior to ending up in Twisted Wonderland is pretty much common knowledge amongst the people who bother to keep tabs on you. And considering how Pomefiore’s got the likes of Rook, a skilled hunter who has a penchant for people watching anyone who catches his eye, you’ve got no doubts that they’re well aware of your circumstances.

♡That, and Crowley’s a loudmouth when it comes to his generosity about your ‘unfortunate situation’. That headmaster is really starting to test your patience…

♡ While Vil is strict, he’s by no means cruel, and is at least polite when you first allow them all into your home. He thankfully doesn’t pity you like you worried he would - you’ve had enough of the pitying looks some people give you when they think you’re not looking. Your lack of a past isn’t something you want to dwell on, Vil can see that clearly with how thoroughly you throw yourself into the training camp alongside your friends and new acquaintances. Not to mention that you act as a surprisingly good buffer between the members whenever tensions start to arise with the upcoming deadline.

♡ It’s admirable really - a single minded little spudling if he’s ever seen one. You’ve got promise, if you keep up that resilient attitude, so Vil offers you no quarter in getting you just as involved in this little training excursion as the others are, if only to help you flourish with enough memories of this upcoming event to last you for a lifetime.

♡ With that being said your thirst for knowledge isn’t to be underestimated, and once you find out that Vil’s pretty much a celebrity and acting prodigy you’re intrigued. Vil’s walking past the living room after the group’s come back from another day training at the ballroom and freezes once he hears his own voice coming through the door. Sure enough you’re lounging over the couch watching one of the more obscure movie titles Vil’s acted in on the phone Crowley ‘gifted’ you before winter break. There’s a blunt honesty when you praise his work once you notice you’ve got an audience. Sure, it’s praise he’s heard from adoring fans and critics more times than he could ever hope to recall, but it’s not something you’re saying just to try and get in his good books. When you offhandedly mention that he looks a little happier in the roles where he’s not the villain, noting that they suit him and that whatever world you’re from he’d probably be a big hit, you swear that he gets a bit smug, apparently pleased by whatever you’d said. You may not know all the ins and outs of this world yet, but Vil’s at least sure you’ve got taste. Which is why he turns a convenient blind eye at the treats you smuggle up to Grim and your room after he’s sure you swore to Ace and Deuce to follow along with their no-sweet regime.

♡ Rook is observant, and it’s hard for people not to feel like he’s prying a bit too much into their personal lives when they happen to gain the huntsman’s attention. Perhaps it’s because you’ve got a relatively blank slate, or that you’re so focused on forging ahead to whatever comes next that you’ll get involved at a moment’s notice. Whatever the quality it has piqued his interest, and from the moment that the camp starts he’s committing every little detail about you to memory.

♡ You may not see it, but there’s so many details in the actions that you do and your daily routines that tell the story of who you are to whoever is diligent enough to listen. It’s in your mannerisms and the way you engage with everything around you, all easily missed to the untrained eye. It’s beautiful in its own way, and Rook is nothing if not an appreciator of that beauty.

♡ Your homestead at Ramshackle is but another shining example of who you are as well. Having nothing but the clothes on your back and a basic understanding of how to function when you first arrived, it’s clear that you’ve made a concentrated effort to at least make the place liveable for you and Grim; not just as a shelter, but as a home. Because of course this is the only place you can call home, and Rook is sure to treat it with the respect such an important place deserves.

♡ Epel doesn’t really know what to make of you at first. You’re from a different world entirely, for one thing, and not having any kind of past beyond school makes him feel a bit awkward about interacting with you. According to Vil, Epel’s still rather rough around the edges, and when his emotions get the better of him he’s been known to put his foot in it and say something that comes off blunt and snappy. Plus, surely there was only so much the two of you could talk about that wasn’t VDC or school related, right?

♡ He’s proven wrong when that huge batch of apple juice from his nana back home is delivered to Ramshackle’s doorstep. All it takes is him mentioning to Kalim that his hometown is known for its apples, and before he can even elaborate your voice chimes in with a helpful “Oh,the village of Harvest, right?” that has Epel’s attention snapping over to you so quickly you think you’ve done something wrong.

♡How did you even know that? His hometown’s barely on the map to begin with, so it genuinely makes him freeze when you recognize it so quickly. The question bugs him until he’s able to ask you about it later, where he finds out just how much you’ve thrown yourself into learning about this world you’ve ended up in. You’re excited that someone’s finally asking you about stuff that you do know, and you pretty much end up talking poor Epel’s ear off for the rest of the evening, telling him all kinds of facts you’ve read up on regarding his hometown’s history and culture. Hell, you spout off a few facts that even he didn’t know about, and he doesn’t miss the proud grin on your face once you learn that.

♡Surprisingly, you want to hear more from Epel too. About the place he grew up, the people he grew up with - his family especially. You’ve had some time to process your own grief around your potential family and your life back home, and though there’s still a twinge of jealousy that sparks up on the bad days you don’t want it to hinder the people that you care about right now. And so you sit, and you listen, prodding him for as much information as he’s willing to give. He practically has to send a message to his nana there and then thanking her on your behalf for all the juice when you learn that she was the one kind enough to send them all over. It’s the only way to get you off of his back about it, but there’s no denying that it’s actually kind of nice having someone who’s genuinely curious about his upbringing, instead of snooping or looking down on it.

♡Even after VDC you’re surprised to find that Pomefiore’s promptly nestled itself into your life. With everything that took place before and after the group's performance it only made sense that they’ve bonded to their newest potato, just be prepared for what exactly that entails. Expect plenty of gifts in the form of the latest cosmetic brands and accessories to be delivered to Ramshackle (much to Grim’s disappointment because it’s not food.) You’ve even had yourself called all the way over to Pomefiore’s dorm only to come back with entire outfits just because you let slip once that Crowley’s budget for your dorm doesn’t cover enough to justify buying anything more than your uniform.

♡ Those aren’t the only gifts you receive too. Often when you’re hanging out with the first year group Epel’s got one thing or another that his family back home has practically strong-armed him into giving to you. He’s talked about you to his folks a few times thanks to the whole apple incident, and Marja herself has made Epel remind you more than a couple times that you’re always welcome at the village of Harvest when the next school breaks come up. Did that embarrass Epel? Yes. Did it make him panic when you immediately teared up because of how touching it was? Also yes.

♡ Pomefiore’s final gifts are small, but mean just as much. They also confuse the hell out of you because when did they even show up??? They’re specific things - things related to your hobbies like new books, CD’s, Movies of your favorite genre for you to enjoy (in case Crowley ever caves and gets you that TV on sale at Sam’s store that he’s been promising you for weeks now goddammit-). All placed somewhere that you’re sure to find them. These gifts are well thought out and honestly mean a lot once you realize who they’re from. Not to mention that there’s a folder with a beautiful decorated cover amongst these little surprises, a clear label reading ‘Memory book’ in very familiar handwriting. Thank god the mystery is solved once you find out Grim’s being bribed with tuna by a certain bob-cut huntsman to drop all these things off at Ramshackle (Grim was supposed to give them to you in hand, but he always gets too bored to do so before you get back from school.) So long as you come to terms with the fact that you’ve been pseudo-adopted into Pomfiore’s ranks by the end of it, it’s honestly kind of nice.

♡Just maybe don’t tell Vil that you may have accidentally made friends with his biggest rival on the day of the event because you ran into him backstage. Rook is certainly happy about it - Vil not so much.

Ignihyde

♡ Your friendship with the housewarden of Ignihyde can be rather prickly in light of everything that’s happened, especially after the events with S.T.Y.X. Before that your only real contact with the Shroud brothers was through Ortho, during your first run in at the audition waiting room. You didn’t hide your excitement once you learned that Idia had made the vocal synthesizer that Ortho was using for the VDC auditions, marveling about how cool it was and asking question after question about how he did it. Ortho is more than happy to answer each and every question you have and then some - especially once you learned Technomancy was a thing and just about lit up like a lightbulb. In fact Ace and Deuce basically have to strong arm you away from the conversation in the end because you’re gonna end up making them late for the damn audition.

♡ You at least have the chance to call out to Ortho to tell his brother that he sounds awesome and his stuff is cool before the ballroom door shuts behind you. And that’s exactly what he tells Idia as soon as he’s back from the auditions. Idia thinks that you’re just pulling his leg and don’t actually mean any of the nice things that you say, and it takes Ortho insisting on playing it to him on his memory bank multiple times to prove just how genuinely nice and excited you sounded.

♡ Idia doesn’t really expect to hear anything from you after that, but hoo boy is he mistaken because once you’ve gotten in one of the Shroud boys’ good books the other one (reluctantly) follows. Not that he has much of a choice, because not even a couple of days after the auditions Idia’s getting added to a group chat with him, Ortho and you. It’s supposedly because you’d wanted to ask him a few more questions about his tech, and after Ortho had mentioned his brother probably wouldn’t like the face to face grilling, a group chat with the younger Shroud as the middleman was born. Grim sometimes forces his way into the conversation, but that usually involves him demanding you to write down the texts for him or slapping the nearest meme on your phone into the chat completely out of context.

♡Ortho has a lot of fun chatting with you because he shares your passion for learning things, and the two of you become thick as thieves over it before and after he officially becomes a student. He’s basically got the internet at his fingertips at all times, alongside a variety of other tools that basically make the younger Shroud brother a walking hub of information. You, for one, are absolutely living your best life because whatever odd subject has caught your attention, no matter the question you can always ask Ortho and he is more than happy to provide you whatever fun fact you’re looking for within a matter of moments. You get a bit quiet once he mentions the memories he was given during his creation, but that’s to be expected given the circumstances that you’re working with.

♡ At first, getting Idia to even pop up in the chat is like pulling on a gacha - you’ve got a good 2% chance of him actually interacting, though he does check in a lot more than you’d expect. With time however, and more than a little persistence on your part, you’ll find cracks in Idia’s defenses. He finds it easier to talk to people behind the safety of a screen, and it's not like you’re forcing him to interact with you so that at least gets you some brownie points. Granted, expect him to prod juuuuust a little bit if the topic of your memories come up in chat. He’s sure he hasn’t got enough of a bond rank with you yet

♡Things go up in the air when S.T.Y.X breaks into NRC.

♡ It was one thing having all of these people who you’d come to call friends suddenly stolen away, but losing Grim? The one who’s been your rock since you first showed up who’s been a part of every single memory you’ve made? If Rook wasn’t already planning to sneak out to find them you would have tore through their headquarters with your bare hands to get that damn tuna loving weird rock eating fluff ball back. Once you found out what S.T.Y.X actually had their hands in, especially considering the Lethe River system you were pissed. If you didn’t know for a fact that you were from another world entirely, and that the system operated to a very specific set of procedures for rewriting and erasing set memories, you would have thought that it had something to do with your own memory erasure. If that was the case you probably would have throttled the poor older Shroud; but because you know the truth, and the system itself is down for the next few centuries you settle for being absolutely livid about it.

♡ It’s a sore spot, hitting a little too close to home knowing that there’s people out there who have had memories taken away from them or altered to protect S.T.Y.X’s existence. It’s nothing like your own situation, but you can’t help feeling angry for them. And on top of that, seeing all of those phantoms and knowing that they could have been your friends if you hadn’t been able to bring them back from their overblots? You may try to think of every memory being worth it, but you learn that some bad memories keep you up at night for days after you’re all finally home.

♡ Your friendship with the brothers is tentatively built back up after this, but it takes a bit of work. Idia’s convinced that you’re never going to want anything to do with either of them again after all that’s happened. So convinced that he nearly has a heart attack when you reach out into the group chat once you’ve had time to process things and recover.

♡ Gonna be honest, the wonderlink he gets for you and Grim becomes a huge olive branch once you’re settled back at Ramshackle. Your determination to make memories alongside not having a clue how the gaming system works leads to you either calling Idia over the phone or actually wrangling him into coming over to play with you. Whether by accident or purpose most of the games you purchased on the system he gave you are multiplayer and you insist that there’s absolutely no way just the two of you can place and that you need a gaming expert. Of course Idia sees through your poorly veiled attempts to get him to socialize, but you must have pulled some cheat code because you somehow manage to get him over to play with you two. Just be ready to have more than a few memories of losing - he’s a gaming pro for a reason, after all.

Diasomnia

♡ You’ve firmly wormed your way into the Diasomnia circle from the moment that you first encountered Malleus, whether you realize it at first or not.

♡ Mallues may not be the most intimately involved in the school's affairs or gossip, but even he’s heard talk of the prefect from another world with neither magic nor memories to their name. The lack of magical aptitude wasn’t anything to bat an eye at, though it was unfortunate given your current enrollment at one of the top arcane colleges in the world. But to have no recollections of your life prior to enrolling? In a place where no one can recognize you or give you the answers that you’re looking for? Truly, an unfortunate set of circumstances you’ve been dealt.

♡ He did not expect to cross paths with this infamous prefect on Ramshackle’s grounds not long after word of them popped up. The old bones of the place were a comfort to Malleus on many nightly walks; when he finds out that it’s no longer as abandoned as he first thought he’s sour at the knowledge that he’ll have to find another place to pass his time in peace. The last thing that Malleus expects is you being bold enough not only to approach him, but to greet him so casually as you none too subtly try to pry into what he’s doing walking around your dorm grounds.

♡ Perhaps you’ve lost more than just your memories, as there’s not even a shred of trepidation or cautiousness as you so boldly interact with the fae. Not only that but you listen, looking up at him not with the nervousness or even fear that he’s seen in the faces of most of NRC’s students, but with curiosity. You’re a stranger to this world, so you don’t yet know the name Malleus Draconia, nor the face the name is tied to. For once your lack of knowledge works to someone’s benefit, and an unusual bond is formed.

♡ Your friendship with Malleus is an interesting exchange - you provide him company and idle conversation whenever he spirits away to Ramshackle; and he provides you company in turn, as well as a willing ear for you to confide in. Sure, your friends have told you that you can talk to them about your problems, but for some reason you’re able to open up easily to Mal. Maybe it’s because of just how little you know about him, right down to his very name - he’s just as much of a blank slate to you as yourself. So you find yourself sharing your worries about where you came from, or the life you lived before this, or the general distress of not knowing the first thing to do about getting your memory back.

♡ Even after all these months it still weighs heavily on you, Malleus can see it in the tired expression that wears on your face when you recall all the things you’ve done to bring back even a shred of your old identity until your head’s pounding and your eyes ache. He hates seeing you troubling yourself over it, and more than once he’s found himself flickering through old books and tomes that haven’t been touched in centuries back home with the small hope to relieve some of that burden from your mind.

♡ On a happier note, Malleus will quite happily fill you in on subjects that peak your interest. He may have lived a fairly isolated life up until his enrollment here, but even what he does know about NRC and the world outside of it he’ll share with you, if only to see the way your expression lights up in wonder hearing everything he has to share.

♡ This dynamic changes very little, aside from the fact that now that you know his true identity these interactions are no longer purely one sided in the sense that you don’t have to wait around for him to just magically appear like you have been for months. Now he’s the one being surprised by your presence when you come knocking on Diasomnia’s doors looking to hang out. Surprising, but it honestly makes the young Draconia’s day having you march through his dorm’s halls wanting to spend time with him, encouraging him to talk about his day and asking how Roaring Drago is doing as you do so.

♡ It’s an unusual feeling, having someone’s undivided attention simply because they enjoy your company, and that you leave such an impressionable impact on their memory. Your memory is a precious commodity considering your unique circumstances, and Malleus realizes that he wants to be in as many fond memories as you’ll allow him to.

♡ Though he has to admit, Malleus can’t shake the conflict that dwells in his chest whenever the topic of your home world comes up. Perhaps it’s just in your nature to yearn for something you’ve never known, but he wonders if you’re thinking about it because your worried about your ties to this world. He hopes that once you realize the life that you’re building here, and the memories that you’re making with him and your friends will be enough to convince you to stay. But that day is far away, and so he pushes it to the back of his mind in favor of enjoying the time spent with his closest friend, for however long it lasts…

♡Lilia, catches onto the friendship you’ve got with Malleus quickly, because of course there’s no hiding how much happier Malleus has become. You’re an interesting case yourself, being able to tackle most of the problems that Ramshackle has to offer you and come out the other side as unscathed as you can be. That coupled with the increased amount of time you begin spending around Daisomnia and its students is more than enough reason to catch this guy’s attention. He learns about your memory loss early on, especially considering that it’s pretty much the talk of the school once the information drops. He won’t prod you about it like some of the younger students might, however; he’s been on this earth long enough to recognize a sore subject when he sees one.

♡ And so he sets about learning things about you in the present rather than the past. Your likes, dislikes, favorite foods, how easily shocked you get when he tries one of his infamous surprise appearances. Lilia’s very easygoing so it’s rather easy to get along with him, not to mention being a dad he’s got the comforting parental presence down pat when he wants to use it. He’s an easy person to let your guard down around, and admit things you usually wouldn’t. Maybe that’s why you end up talking to him about the what-if’s of your previous life.

♡ It’s a moment of weakness, you let one of your idle thoughts about your family back home slip, asking aloud if there’s anyone there to actually miss you. Lilia doesn’t miss the somber chuckle as you admit that you’re a little jealous - Sebek has his parents, and Silver has Lilia. You want a family like that. You try to lighten the mood by jokingly asking why someone can’t whisk you away into their family already, thinking about that time Kalim very nearly got you adopted into his family once he learned of your memory loss. You don’t expect an answer, much less for the moment to suddenly be broken as the fae pats your head ruffling your hair. No doubt he’s made your hair a mess by the action, but you’re more focused on the grin Lilia gives you when he mentions always wanting a big family - he’s sure Silver wouldn’t mind having a new sibling!

♡Unrelated but Lilia loves sharing old stories with you. Some of the things he shares you vaguely recall reading about in some history books at the library; some of those books were so old you have to wrack your brain trying to do the mental gymnastics to figure out exactly how old he is. He is thoroughly entertained seeing the mild existential crisis inducing cogs turning in your head as he continues his tales, waiting for you to inevitably jump into the story to prod him for more information. Just wait until Malleus shows you that one textbook that’s got Lilia’s portrait in; Lilia doesn’t hear the end of it when you come flying into his room mid game with the textbook in hand demanding to know how the hell he looks the same in a portrait taken centuries ago and waiting like a stubborn child next to his chair as he finishes the raid he’s working through with Gloomurai.

♡ Maybe if you weren’t so desperate for answers, you would have noticed that his friend’s gamer tag looks kinda familiar…

♡ Offered to cook you your favorite dish once. You thought it was a nice gesture, until Sebek and Silver made a joint effort to wrangle you away from the scene, basically pleading with Lilia to please not step foot into the kitchen. That’s probably one thing you’re better off not learning about…

♡ When Sebek first runs into you at NRC, he almost fools himself into thinking that you’re playing up the amnesia for some unforeseen gain. He’s not the first student to have had their doubts, and honestly you can’t entirely blame him for just how weird ‘complete memory loss aside from remembering basic functions and muscle memory’ sounds even without the whole context of this being a world governed by magic. However, what makes Sebek different is that he approaches the subject about as delicately as a falling brick. You’re only half listening as he’s demanding answers for things you don’t even know yourself, already fed up with the whole rigmarole of people throwing questions about your amnesia at you.

♡There’s only so much you can hear about memories this, hiding that before you snap back, hissing out that you’d give just about anything for it to be a lie rather than spending every night guessing where you’ve come from and who you’ve left behind while he’s got the luxury of knowing the kind of life he’s lived before this damn school. That shuts him up faster than you’ve ever seen, jaw snapping closed so hard you swear you hear his teeth click together as you turn heel and generate as much distance between the two of you as possible.

♡ He feels guilty afterwards; Sebek may be a bit of a livewire but even he knows when he’s taken things a bit too far, and it’s clear to see his prying has left you feeling more than a little bitter towards him. Thankfully team dad Lilia is right there to offer advice on smoothing things over in a way that doesn’t result in things looping back around to the original argument. It takes a little while to come to terms with the fact that Sebek genuinely didn’t mean any malice in his prodding; with him on a determined path to become a knight worthy to protect Malleus he wants to know that he can trust you before allowing any kind of potential friendship to form. The way that he went about it however was blunt and came off way ruder than intended; that’s something you can both agree on when he bellows out an apology in the middle of the damn hallway when you cross paths the next day.

♡ He comes to respect how diligently you work despite your initial setbacks coming to Twisted Wonderland with such limited knowledge. What he once thought was an attempt to pry into things for malicious gain he finds is actually just a desire to understand the world around you and the people who inhabit it. Sebek has relayed his respect to you before, in his own way, and thankfully you’ve spent enough time around him to know that he genuinely means every word of it.

♡ Will actively spur on your thirst for knowledge. The first time he lent you a book because he thought the material would give you something to think about, he fully expected it to be weeks before you’d finished. Cut to the next night and you’re unceremoniously dropping that same book onto his bedroom desk, sitting down next to him as you exclaim how cool the book was and your favorite highlights.

♡ Of course Sebek quizzes you about it, but when it’s clear you’ve actually taken an interest in the book he’s given you expect to be walking home that night with a new pile of them to pour over to your heart's content. He’s got his own passion for books, and the pair of you bond over this shared activity a lot more than people realize. Lilia almost can’t believe his eyes how quickly Sebek’s hot-blooded attitude simmers down into something more tempered whenever you come over to gush about the latest book he’s recommended to you.

♡You made a joke once about being adopted by Sebek’s parents while he was on call back home, if only to get a laugh out of the smoldering glare he shot you from the other side of the couch. That laugh however breaks out into a full on cackle hearing his parents actually agreeing with you as you shuffle across the couch and pluck the phone from Sebek’s hands while he’s frozen in shock. His mom is thrilled; Sebek, decidedly, is not, as a pillow from the couch goes sailing across the room as you flee from the scene, disappearing into Daisomnia’s halls with Sebek’s phone to tell your second adopted family all about how he’s been making them proud at NRC.

♡ Silver doesn’t miss the signs that you’ve essentially been pseudo-adopted by his father and the other Diasomnia members, though he doesn’t know that you haven’t clocked onto it yet. Considering how Malleus considers you a close confidant, Lilia is basically treating you like another one of his children, and Sebek seems to actually enjoy having you around it’s easy to think that you’ve noticed just how much everyone cares for you. And of course you care for them in return; more than once you’ve stopped by during Silver and Sebek’s training with something from the cafeteria, or you’ve brought the oddest little things you’ve found at Sam’s shop to show off how cool they are (all of which he’s pretty sure he’s seen scattered around Malleus’ room whenever you bring a new item to the dorm.)

♡ You’re quickly becoming such an integral part of Diasomnia’s life that it’s getting harder to imagine a time without you here, and these guys have become all you’ve ever known in the same way. So it’s shocking to Silver when one of the other students mentions that you’ve basically been adopted into the dorm - you’re there so much you’re practically family anyway - and he sees your reaction. You freeze, jaw slack as you process what you’ve just heard. You hardly even notice Grim swiping the sandwich Silver brought you for lunch in your shock, instead glancing up at the Diasomnia boy as if to confirm what you just heard

♡ When he gives you a confused look in return and asks why you’re so shocked since they’re right he practically watches you go through several stages of emotions, right before you’re grabbing him by the lapel of his uniform and guide him to follow you as you bolt over to Crowley’s office. The poor headmaster doesn’t hear the end of your demanding for Grim and yourself to be made honorary Diasomnia members after this. If they’re adopting you, then by the seven you’re getting it in writing from the bird man himself.

♡ Silver mentions once that he wouldn’t mind if you really were adopted into the family. It’s right as he’s on the cusp of another one of his naps, leaning up against your shoulder when he lets slip that he’d be proud to have a sibling like you without thinking anything of it - because of course it’s true, it's just a thought he hasn’t voiced out loud before. Cut to Lilia coming in a minute or two later to check in only to find his son conked out on your shoulder while you’re a blubbering mess over the fact that someone genuinely wants you as part of their family. Lilia feels only marginally bad when he reaffirms the sentiment, him casually throwing out that he already sees you as Silver’s little sibling resulting in you crying harder.

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headfarintheclouds · 2 months

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This has been something that's been rattling around in my head a while and I haven't seen anyone do this yet, so got any HCs for Kenji dating a Vtuber reader?

Well to be honest, when I read that ask I wasn't too sure what to write BUT I did find a few ideas :D I don't really understand the Vtuber concept but I do enjoy people my Cyno and Monarch :) Hope you'll like it and THANK YOU for the request <3 AN: I kind of wrote it more for a streamer than for a VTuber at the end ? I'm so sorry !

He didn't know you were a streamer until you told him. Remember when I said he was protective ? Yeah, when you mentioned you streamed with a camera he wasn't too happy about it. Sure you were your own person, but even he knew Internet was full of creeps and people of all kind honestly. It calmed him down when you told him about your Avatar and explained that nobody really knew how you looked like.

Kenji doesn't really care about games and streamers, but he cares about you ! So when you two decided to move in together, he renovated one of the rooms into your personal office. Taking you to IKEA to pick up furniture turned out to be the worst decision of his life, you spend hours choosing desks and chairs and other cute clutter to fill out the space to your liking. He wouldn't take no for an answer when he told you he'll pay for the stuff, even through you made enough money to afford it. "It makes you happy, right ? Let me make my princess happy." he said and kissed your forehead right then and there.

Whenever you streamed, and he had the time to do so, he would sit in the corner of your newly decorated office and watch you play. Nursing a cup of coffee or tea, depending on the time of day, he would chuckle whenever you lost a game or get scared by a monster in one of the horrors your audience begged you to play.

Speaking of Horror games ! Kenji is a little shit and we all know it, so you can imagine what would happen when you played scary games. Yep, he would scare the absolute shit out of you. One night you finally agreed to playing Phasmophobia with some of your online friends and well...

Your eyes focused on the screen, watching one of your friends place the crucifix on the floor. You were still fairly new to the game but you did know that it would stop the ghost from hunting, at least until it burned. "So what now ?" you asked, your Vtuber following your motions to a T. "Now we need last evidence." one of your co-players responded, his character crouching to pick up the walkie-talkie from the ground. At that moment something fell down from the in game table and it made you absolutely scream. "NOPE I AM OUT OF HERE !" you turned your character and walked towards the door, but it slammed in your face. The ghost started to hunt and from the looks of it it was after you ! "SUCK A CARROT, SUCK A CARROT !" you yelped, trying to run away. You could hear your friends absolutely lose it in the background, as the ghost finally caught up to you. A hand was suddenly placed on your shoulder, and you jump out from your chair so fast Ken didn't even had the time to react. Let's just say your audience started was confused about the sudden bang, and a groan of pain.... and your endless apologies. Nobody could see but you just smacked your wireless keyboard on top of his head from the fright... (BTW ! That Suck a carrot moment actually happened. My friend yelled that dying to a ghost and I thought I might share it with ya'll XD)

Yeah from that point onwards he didn't try to scare you anymore. You felt awful about the incident but some sick party of you was glad you did it, serves him right for scaring you like that. He sported a black eye for weeks after the incident, making tabloids go wild.

Emi absolutely adores your streams. Whenever you play games like Sims or Stardew valley Mina would let her watch it knowing it was friendly enough not to startle her. She was confused as to why the strange character on the screen was speaking with your voice but she still enjoyed the content.

Speaking of our baby girl ! At one point you changed your Avatar and added some stuff representing Emi. Like a Fin-like-Hairclip and a necklace with a K and E on it. Your fans asked questions but you just said you needed a change. Ken was very pleased about the necklace though !

Like any other Streamer you have your own merch, and Ken owns EVERY.SINGLE.PIECE. Limited edition ? He has double of every thing. He absolutely loved the fact you enjoyed your hobby/job so much !

He would totally share a link to your stream on his social. Imagine your surprise when you woke up one day with over 100k followers. Which was strange considering you were chilling at 2k just a few hours before that.

All in all. He would not understand much about your job, but he will support you no matter what. Even if he gets a black eye in the end XD

I'm sorry if it's bad !

#kenji sato #ken sato #ultraman rising #ken sato x reader #ken sato x you

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delqcate · 10 months

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hi love!! i was wondering if I could request something for scott barringer? i'm the same anon from yesterday btw :)) could it be something where they have like a frenemies type relationship? she's quite witty and a bit of a bitch to him, mainly because he's a jerk to her, but they're friends not down right enemies, almost like banter that they look forward to. then one day she takes a walk during a storm in the middle of the night, and catches scott outside in the middle of the night, and he's upset and tells her about what happened to him and she comforts him? and they like become something?

YOU'LL BE THE FIRST WHO EVER DID

when i got this req i was so excited because 1, i haven't wrote an ask in soooo long, and 2, this is sort of me experimenting with another type of character since in my eyes i always write them sweet n stuff. but anyways i hope you all enjoy this especially u anon! <3

warnings/cw: mentions of abuse (not from scott or reader), cussing, etc.

word count: 1.7k (FINALLY MORE THAN 100 WORDS)

paring: scott barringer x reader

The last class of the day had just finished, and after listening to Jeff's lecture all day you were ready to take a nap when you remembered that the Cliffhangers were assigned to kitchen cleaning duty. So after dropping off your things at the cabin, you make your way to meet with the others.

"Ezra, stop that. I'm not sure we even cleaned that yet!" Was the first thing you could hear from the kitchen, it was Kat's voice. As soon as you head inside you finally get a good view of the situation. Ezra had a soup pot on his head, which did look like it had a bit of dirt on the outside, everyone else was either cleaning or watching everything going on.

Expect one. The one that, despite all your banter, you could tolerate the most.

His eyes were on you again for a short moment before clearing his throat and letting his raspy voice fill your ears. "I could use your help over here." He looks back down at the sink and you nod once, heading over to him.

"Barringer." You mumble as you stand beside him, taking the washed dish from him and drying it up with a rag nearby. "Could you have been any more late? Being surrounded by these idiots is probably worse than being with you." He says as he finishes up another plate.

You scoff and put the plate down, taking the next plate to wash. "As if you're any better, I'm surprised Auggie and Ezra aren't sick of you being such a buzz kill." You put the plate down and move your gaze to him.

As if he could sense it, he moved his gaze to you. It was there again, that tension that always confused the both of you. Ever since the first day you met the both of you had this banter that everyone noticed, it was like sparks.

As weeks went by the both of you learned how to tolerate each other better, and while he could still be a jerk, he was a tolerable jerk. More tolerable than the rest anyway.

You notice a small grin on his face, and you return it as well. "Well, I only like being a buzz kill for you." He smirks and looks back at the sink. "And I like being late to piss you off." You smile sarcastically and head off to help everyone else. He turns his head to watch you for a moment, his eyes just couldn't leave you.

A handful of days had passed and the weather was getting worse each day, it was getting cold so you understood why. What you didn't understand was Scott hadn't been going to classes lately, and every time you tried to talk to him, he was a complete jerk just like the first time you two met.

You didn't understand why he was like this, maybe his emotions just like to change with the weather? It had been raining harder than usual and there were the occasional thunderstorms.

But you had other things to worry about, like the fact you decided to take a walk in the forest but instead was running around in the dark as the rain poured down on her. The thunder was loud, pounding in her ears.

You slowed down her moments to try and see anything through the storm, but it was just a view of never-ending trees. Until you heard footsteps, the splash of water, someone else was thankful out here with you. Unless it was an animal. Or a random person.

"Hello? Is anyone there!" You yell out, hoping they can hear you. "Over here!" They yell out, they sound familiar yet strange, as if something happened. You quickly rush over as their voice gets louder, yelping as you bump into them.

"Shit, I'm so sorry-" She looks up at her eyes widen, her breath hitching. "Scott? What are you doing out here?" You were speechless, you didn't expect him out of all people to be here. He had been isolating himself in the cabin.

"Let's just get back, ok? Who cares about me!" His raspy voice filled your ears, but this didn't sound like him trying to be a jerk. It sounded like he had just cried. "I care, Scott!" You suddenly yell out.

You would agree that both of you needed to find shelter before the rain gets worse or both of you would be stranded and get sick, but who cares about any of that right now?

"Please, why have you been isolating yourself from us?" You plead out to him, trying to read his eyes. He was always tough to read, he always hid his emotions in his cocky personality. You try reaching your hand for his but he immediately backs away, and your heart breaks.

Everyone knew what happened to Scott, his mother abusing him, but you dismissed it. Rumors always spread around here, it was probably made up, but this scared you because what if it was all true?

"I know- I know that you know..." his breath was heavy, his hand ran through his hair and his back hit the tree, slowly sliding down as he covered his face. Your heart slowly broke as you stood there feeling helpless, you were afraid to touch him because you didn't want to hurt him.

You got down on your knees and gulped, taking a deep breath. You slowly reach your hand out to him, gently placing your hand on his knee. At first, you felt him flinch, almost as if he wanted to pull away, but he couldn't. It was a cliche but he felt like you were different, so he let your hand stay there.

After a moment of letting the rain and thunder fill your ears, he finally spoke up. His voice was soft and still as raspy as ever. "I didn't want it, y'know? I mean, I thought I did but-" His voice started to break and you pushed his hair back as a silent way to stop him, you didn't want to bring back any memories the rain was already giving him.

"You didn't. I know." You whisper back, even if it was inaudible due to the weather. "I'm guessing the weather had something to do with the situation?" You watch as he slowly lifts his head and removes one hand to reveal half of his face, the rain is calming down.

"Yeah...you smartass." He chuckles, and you happily return one. This felt different from all your other encounters with each other, more intimate but not the type of way people would think. "You're soaked, idiot." You let out as you stand up, looking around.

"Hey, I can see Horizon from here." You look back down at him, his head already looking up at you. You can tell he wants to say something so you get back to his level. "What's up?"

He looks around, poking his cheek with his tongue. He's never been in a relationship nor has he found any interest in being in one, but the way you made him feel was different than he felt with other people.

"I- god, this is harder than I thought." He chuckles and gulps, bouncing his leg slightly. You suddenly feel nervous, you've never seen him like this before but you let him continue to show you really are listening.

"You make me feel something that I haven't felt with any girl, or I guess anyone. You make me feel safe and uhm..." He looks over at a nearby puddle and gets up, scrambling to pull out a small flower. He faces you and watches as you stand up, heading towards him.

He looked like a nervous teenage boy, and you found that adorable since he's never shown any type of vulnerability. "Will you maybe be the only person I can tolerate here? When you hold me I- It feels like you're the only person to make me feel all.. tingly." He looks at you, his eyes almost pleading.

"Scott, I..." You were at a loss for words, you'd immediately say yes if it wasn't for what had just happened. Was he sure he wanted this? You didn't want him jumping into something after he was just so vulnerable.

"Oh- yeah. No, no, I get it. God, I'm so stupid-" As he turns away to throw the flimsy flower, you take his arm and spin him to look at you. You felt bad that you weren't even thinking after grabbing him like that, despite him basically saying your touch made him feel safe, you couldn't be too sure.

"No, I just want you to be sure you want this. I don't want you jumping into anything you're not sure of." You frown and slowly move closer to him and he does the same, looking into your eyes. His free hand moves over to cup the nape of your neck and he whispers.

"I confessed my love for you in the rain and you need more confirmation?" He chuckles and you feel a soft smile on your face. "Alright, whatever you want." He leans in and kisses you softly, it was like sparks as soon as your lips met.

You wrap your arms around his neck and make a soft noise, both of you deepening the kiss with each passing second. After a while, both of you slowly break apart and take a moment to breathe before letting out a laugh. Your face had a wide smile and Scott had that soft grin on him as his hand travels to your hair and gently places the flower.

"I thought that if I ever told anybody, I'd never be able to look at them again." His voice gradually gets softer, his gaze softening alongside. "You're looking at me now, aren't you?" You say in the same tone as him. "Mhm, and what a beautiful sight it is."

You both share a small chuckle before walking back to the cabin hand in hand. The Cliffhangers will definitely have a field day as soon as they find out, but for now, no one has to know.

#★ — ﹙daydreaming . . . 📜﹚#dividers from cafekitsune #scott barringer #scott barringer fluff #scott barringer imagine #scott barringer x reader #hayden christensen #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen x reader

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millyhelp · 9 months

Note

Do you know Maneskin? And if you don't do it well...I come with a suggestion for you JSJDKSKDKDJ

Lately I'm obsessed with "Read your diary" by Maneskin, I just feel like Jason Jason as an ex is totally THAT song and I haven't been able to get it out of my head, so I just pray that you read this, I really like your writing so I came to waste my brain here HAHAHAJSJK

I'M TOTALLY ADDICTED TO THIS MUSIC NOW! LIKE WOW!!! Thank you for sending me this ask! I love responding ;)

Another AU is soooo good to write. Guys I really loves AU!Jason Todd.

Thank you btw! Now... read this!

Ex!Jason Todd

Fuck, it had been a few months since you broke up with Jason. This man was crazy and sentimental (more than usual).

He couldn't get over it. Even after months here he was, sending you flowers and chocolate, which you didn't accept and often threw away in the trash. He still watched you from the rooftops dressed in red hood, it wasn't always, but he still kept an eye on you.

Jason was pacing back and forth in his own apartment. his mind never leaving you. He needs you back. everything you forgot at his house was still in the same place. your shoes, your panties, the polaroid photos of you two, oh your nudes, and your diary.

He made a point of reading it every day to feel you closer, to discover how to enter your life again. Jason used your perfume on his pillows when he slept.

Jason touched himself while remembering your beautiful moans and whimpers. This man needs you back.

He needed a shower. Crying and seeing your nudes made him needy, more than he already was. Fuck, how he wished his left hand was you wrapped around him.

"Yn..." He let your name leave his lips like a whimper. He placed his forehead on the bathroom tile and continued moving back and forth with his hand, imagining you there. He was close. So needy. So hard. only for you. oh you. you. you.

"Fu- oh! Fuck!" Jason punched the wall with his right hand as it came apart in his left hand. Suddenly the water in the shower seemed colder.

Jason started to cry and the tears ran down his body along with the shower water.

He need you back, and he will have it. He just don't know how, yet.

I know... it was short, BUT I LOVED TO WRITE IT!! Thank u again, anon. You have my heart 🫡

#jason todd #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd imagine #red hood smut #jason todd oneshot #millyhelp thoughts~#millyhelp asks~#ex!jason todd

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jeonride · 1 year

Note

hi are u taking request? read ur san oneshot and i like it sm ⭐ so what if husband!hwa being such a tease to reader whos touch starved but theyre still fighting and hwa saying "aren't you still angry" like that? smh he'll sound irritating 🙄🤚🏻 yet i'm in my mood to sassy hwa lmao btw holy moly ur theme sickkkk

yeah babes i'm taking request and you're being my first requester! <3 tysm for saying that and i made your req into smut drabble tho i hope it's okay for you :((

aren't you still angry?

SUMMARY; seonghwa looks too good tonight that even makes you want to be touched by him. the problem is, you're still angry and you feel extremely ashamed to say it out loud.

FEATURING; seonghwa x afab!reader

TAGS; fluff, marriage au (husband!seonghwa), non-idol au, smut (MINORS DNI!)

WORD COUNT; 1.3 K

WARNINGS; use of pet names, degrading words, fingering, nipple play, pussy slapping, mentions of arguing, and hwa is such a tease here prolly makes you irritated lol

NOTES FROM KALA; scrolled through my gallery and found this photo of hwa that made me- HOLD UP THIS MAN'S GORGEOUS AF

jeonride's masterlist / join the taglist here !

Seonghwa glances at you, his wife who seems to be fidgety or something, he can't really tell, as your feet keep moving, making Seonghwa unconsciously notice.

"You okay?" he asks. His eyes are filled with worry, even though you're still fighting and haven't really forgiven each other.

You bite your lip.

No, you are not.

Definitely not okay.

You don't know why, but it feels like you desperately want your husband tonight. Seonghwa's appearance tonight is enthralling, so tempting, and it's dangerous for you. The way his satin pajamas shape his broad chest, oh, your eyes can take a look at his cleavage. And let's not forget the glasses perched on his sharp nose, which he uses to clarify his vision because he is making a report. You do have a thing with people wearing glasses. And seeing your husband wearing his reading glasses makes your way of breathing strangle. You are trying to be casual, but it's so hard because,

Seonghwa looks so tempting when you are still angry and fighting with him.

It's embarrassing if you're the first one to wave the white flag of surrender because you caused the problem. It was a small fight at first but for some reason, it became very intense and now you're the one sulking at Seonghwa. Though he should be the one who's angry at your childish attitude.

"You keep spreading your legs for no reason. Want something, hm?" asks Seonghwa while cupping your cheek gently with his palm. You are sitting side by side, both of you just minding your business. You're watching a comedy TV show that you think isn't funny at all, such a waste of time. You don't need any bullshit jokes right now. Because Seonghwa's lips are the most attractive thing tonight, making you instinctively want to kiss him.

But you don't.

You hold back.

You're still holding on to the dignity. Stubborn as you are but your heart wants him as much.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

Seonghwa grins. His left eyebrow raises. He knows you need him. It's so obvious that he can interpret your body's reaction exactly. He can feel you tensing up when he looks at you, as well as the faint blush on both your cheeks and now you're crossing your legs like you're trying to hold back your arousal. He's aware of that. Your body movements are so agitated for someone who says "Nothing, I'm fine".

"You sure? You seem.. suffering," Seonghwa's grin getting wider. Suffering because you are resisting the urge to kiss him and the desire to be touched by your husband, to be more precise.

"I'm fine, Seonghwa. Just go back to whatever you were doing, don't mind me."

"Okay, love." Seonghwa strokes your shoulder, giving you a gentle massage that makes you bite your lip, such an unnatural reaction. Not like the usual you.

Seonghwa knows what you want, of course. He fucking knows. But he wants you to say it, wants you to get used to communicating with him no matter how angry you are because well, the habit of shutting yourself up because of an argument but still acting sulky is irritating to Seonghwa.

Seonghwa is sure you're feeling irritated too, right now. Because you suddenly click your tongue, and it sounds like the angry one you usually give him on special circumstances.

"What is it? Stop clicking your tongue as if you want me to understand what you want." Seonghwa adjusts his glasses, looking at you sharply. "You need to learn to ask nicely. Because really, I don't understand if you just click your tongue like that and say you're doing fine."

You pout, and whimper at Seonghwa. With doe eyes, your fingers tug at the hem of his satin pajamas, all while your mouth still releases whining sounds. "Seonghwa,"

"Yes, love?"

"I want you."

Seonghwa chuckles. His face looks surprised, not believing what you're saying to him, and it's a reaction that has the meaning of sarcasm. "Aren't you still angry?"

"Forget it. I forgive you for tonight because you look so good now."

"Oh, just for tonight? What if tomorrow night you want me again?"

"Seonghwa," you whine loudly. Resentful of the way he teases you, resentful of the way he plays with you like a child. The man giggles. He takes off his glasses, leaving his report behind because he wants to give you all his attention. His gorgeous wife, you, seem to want something but are embarrassed to say it because of your pride.

"Stop being such a whiny baby and talk properly. When we were arguing you looked fiery and shameless."

Such a tease.

Seonghwa, your husband, loves to tease you so much that his back sometimes is being the victim of your punches."Speak up, my love. I'm all ears."

"I said that already, I want you." You look away afterward, feeling embarrassed. But Seonghwa's face follows the direction of your eyes, forcing you to only look at him.

"And why do you want me, when you're still angry? I thought we're still fighting, tho."

"I said forget about our fight, or do you want me to be angry every day?"

"Oh, behave, love." Seonghwa chuckles. "Behave when you need someone to serve you down there."

Seonghwa's hand slowly travels to your thigh. That's easy for him to do since you're only wearing his oversized white shirt and panties. His hand gives a gentle stroke while keeping his eyes on your expression. Smirks when you're trying so hard to cool with it while your chest breathes heavily, all tense up because of his touch. "Cockhungry slut."

Your arousal gushes out, you can feel it. It's the way he calls you slut, while he takes care of you like you're such a little princess. Delicate. Arousing. How can he manage to be like that? Acting so fucking sweet while his pretty lips keep talking dirty.

Your breath hitches as Seonghwa's forefinger rubs the wet patch of your panties, moving it to the side and touching your clit softly. "Aren't you still angry? You usually get rid of my hand immediately when you're angry. So it's true I look too good tonight to handle?"

"Seonghwa, you will make me angry even more if you keep teasing me like this."

"Oh, so you'll be angrier if i don't satisfy you?"

You smack Seonghwa lightly on the chest, feeling humiliated by the way he spoke. But eyes don't lie. Your eyes show how much you want to be touched by Seonghwa.

"Stop teasing me, Seonghwa..." You reply softly. Your cheeks flushed like sunset, and it's like a little show for him, Seonghwa enjoys this.

"And why do I have to?"

You moan, automatically spreading your legs to give Seonghwa's fingers more access to play with your pulsating clit. He smiles triumphantly, mixed with his mischievous expression. And with such a quick movement, he lands one slap on your clit, earning a jolt and more arousal from your aching cunt.

"You like that?"

You bite your lip, nodding aggressively with your eyes squeezed shut. Unable to form words now, your brain is already clouded, and your thighs are shaking as Seonghwa gives you another slap on the clit, even harder and it stings yet you feel the pleasure as your heart is racing like a thousand fireworks explode inside your chest.

Seonghwa doesn't reply to your words, focusing on the expression on your face that is formed because of pleasure, because he's making you feel good. He's busy carving your beautiful face in his memory because he swears, tonight you also look perfect in his eyes. His two fingers slowly enter your cunt, dragging out and then back in gently. You sigh at the stretch out Seonghwa's two fingers give you, he's well experienced at this one. He rotates his fingers inside you, forming a come-hither motion then his thumb rubs circles on your abused clit which makes you arch your back and moan Seonghwa's name.

"Seonghwa, please, don't stop!" you whine, your hands moving instinctively to your torso, squeezing your own breasts and giving soft strokes on your nipples. Seonghwa moves closer to you and plants a peck on your lips.

"Aren't you still angry, love? So now you already forgave me because I can make you feel good?"

Oh, god.

He is indeed, such a tease.

nb : i'm taking requests now so feel free to drop your req on my inbox <3

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joannasteez · 3 months

Text

tanks of blood (5) - the trouble was always here

pairings: biker!cody rhodes x black reader, biker!roman reigns x black reader (mentioned) warnings: FLUFF! descriptions that imply stalking. explicit descriptions of blood and violence. dialogue and descriptions pertaining to guns. cody being kinda simpy (he’s so adorable) roman being a jerk still (he’ll come around) authors note: a present day chapter!!! w/ a full cody perspective because we haven't gotten that yet. finally a little cody and roman interaction. thanks for 1700 followers btw!!! word count: 8800 tagging: @333creolelady @harmshake @theninthwonder @thesamoanqueen @kill-the-artiste @empressdede @sortudademais @gg-trini @southerngirl41 @2-muchsauce

...m'not tryin to cause trouble for you...

...you don't wanna cause trouble anymore...

cody had felt the premature slight of his own words then. those few weeks ago, amongst the wordless overly cool diner air and lukewarm food. and then felt it again as he said it. your eyes tired and cautious—dim and slipping into sleep just after the end of a twelve hour shift—suddenly veering off into something less meek and weary. indignation a bright flare as it woke you up to be less inviting. and cody was still suffering the trickle down effects of that somewhat exhaustive empty diner reunion, along with the onslaught of a new torrential down pour of bullshit caused by his president's drunken tantrum. the diner situation was a mild disagreement. a brakeless drive of frustration that he meant, but did not mean to say. and he'd said the thing that you'd always hated. "don't be dense". a stupid fucking move on his part. it made maneuvering the funeral—God rest's richie's soul—a few days after, awkward and God awful. cody hoped it was something worth leaving to cool off. a dissipation that would make way for a fresh slate. and he'd made headway, little as it was but he was getting his footing again with you. but roman. oh his president and fearless fucking leader. he just had to muddy the water.

and all of that humble, earnest desire—despite the hesitancies—to return back into the fold that was the world of the bloodline, to go generally unscathed, had been destroyed. by whiskey-beer inspired words and the wrath of a bruised man. because yes, roman had performed so well in chilling over since their youth, that now he was bruised. marred and undone, that much cody knew. a spoiled over bitterness that sometimes made for thick and difficult to breathe in air. a siphoning of the room to please him self. to revitalize whatever'd been lost. and unfortunately, to your credit, you'd done well at stealing away such heavy grief, turning the funeral into a reunion. but roman couldn't just sit still in his shit. he had to spread and smear about his anger. a tantrum that sent you home quiet. a silence cody was made to suffer through because he'd taken it upon himself to be your ride to and from such an event of a funeral. made to suffer because he cared.

but that service and burial for richie, in the grand scheme of cody's long anxious waiting, had been just two weeks ago. two long weeks of silence. and yeah maybe it was partially on him. mostly roman's doing but maybe him too. 'you don't wanna cause trouble anymore', the overripe cherry on top of already stale cake.

in essence, you were doing his bidding. because avoidance of the bloodline meant free from trouble, as scathing as that thought feels to him. but cody isn't above admitting it. the forming of something harsh and sickly in his belly. a hollowness that drains his skin. not hearing from you is odd. something he hates.

-monday. the first week in june-

text message | incoming: need your help

text message | cody r: ?

text message | incoming: car is fucked

text message | cody r: glad to know i can hear from you if you need something

text message | incoming: 12 hour shifts are a bitch. so sorry for not checkin in every second of the day...was trying to keep away from all this trouble i'm apparently causing. my bad.

text message | cody r: where are you?

text message | incoming: the house

text message | cody r: be there soon.

and maybe it's the june heat getting to him, the bare down of the sun muddying his sensibilities till they roll over and form newer with these streaks of entitlement. an entitlement he'd never profess outwardly. never claim to outside of loose thoughts and the nagging linger of other truths kept unsaid. but cody—and God does this sound awful even as he thinks it—much prefers you away from pensacola. away from home. because in those times, his willingness to please you was nothing more than some shapeless desire. something he would do if he could. a possibility. the distance keeping the brunt of his feelings at bay. but having you here—as much as it makes him happy—seems to cause more issues than he'd like. because issues mean a loose fumbling grasp at things. a lack of control. because now he'll actually have to acknowledge the burn in his belly when you look at him. the prick of heat over his skin when you say his name. your anger influencing discomfort till he makes it right. he'd have to—amidst such a cryptic life—be honest about deeply buried thoughts. the hidden things he's always promised to himself to keep hidden.

and maybe thats why his words slipped out so loose and fast and inconsiderate. 'you don't wanna cause trouble anymore', because bits of that trouble include a deep unearthing of his own shit.

because roman isn't the only one troubled and undone about you.

cody's teeth suck. a quick, easy, manifestation of displeasure. because he doesn't stay put and he doesn't drag his feet either. he moves with purpose. present mechanic duties forgotten along with the old and janky BL AUTO sign behind him as he shifts his weight up and into a tow truck. displeasure because maybe his selflessness is more than just a base line compassion. but servile? no. cody isn't that. but as he backs out with a reverse and drives off to meet at your place, your parents old house, he feels his stomach coil up in a way that burdens him wholly. a feeling that has only performed well enough on rare occasions. a tight ball settled at the base of his belly, his chest going on with an irregular beating and cody thinks it's all so damn pitiful. years and years of a slow simmering, never quite getting to the rapid chaos of a boil but hot all the same. but if not for the tease of it than what else was there to have? what other possibility could there be for him besides the grand swarming performance of butterflies. his eyes rolling as he drives. twenty something again. with this particular thing, he still isn't ready to name, cody is in a perpetual state of being that twenty something guy.

the blare of a horn pulls him up and out of his harboring. the street light apparently green for sometime.

and he decides—because he's in control, he swears—to leave it be. to allow his body to process the sensations. an attempt at emotional extraction from the physicality of it. because it's not butterflies if you don't call it butterflies. because names give things meaning. a process he's done time and time again. evasion easy and efficient.

because he's towed plenty of cars. fixed plenty of cars. this would be the same as the others. no emotional weight and ancient histories involved. because cody has the control to will it so.

and the settling of this process gives him freedom. enough to slip back into the familiar. something that lacks such sentimental complexity. cody observes. the roads, the weather, the cars. taking a fine tooth comb through the details.

"the underestimations is what gets you son. don't let em get you".

dusty's voice curling about his left ear. riding just under the flow of a summer breeze. and cody never knew his father to be wrong about anything.

"always take note of the scene son".

the regularity of the day but a facade. sunny and warm and unsuspecting. but cody knows enough to know that the mere face of a thing is not the representation of the inward parts. that if you look well enough for a thing, it will appear with a clear exposure. and the drive to your fathers house is both familiar and burdening. the pensacola heat and the sentiments of faraway memory attempting with much fight to dull his senses. streetlights he's passed and roads he's turned down before. the only difference now being your presence. and there goes the curl in of his belly. his words refusing to form into truth even inwardly still, to spell out the feelings. feelings he thought quelled. it's something he so obviously needs to work on. his eyes flitting to his rearview mirror, breaking away from those too ardent thoughts.

a gray chevrolet ss maybe? the model he's unsure. but he's fixed many a chevy to know that its a chevy.

cody turns a corner, and with him turns the chevy. something he doesn't think much of. giving the wheels of the tow truck an easy ride for a few miles or so. but the chevy remains a comfortable distance behind him. cody takes a test turn. an abrupt right that veers him slightly off course.

but his truck isn't a pain to follow. the size of it easy to make out. losing the tail from such a spur of the moment turn before it appears again. behind him and steady. the windows tinted.

his ears burn warm. fingers itching.

cody rolls into the beginning of your block. double parking several doors down before quickly exiting the tow truck. his fingers slipping out his shades as his feet kick up loose gravel. the tint of them blocking the harsh beat down of daylight. the chevy rolling by at a slower pace, something done to very obviously piss him off, before it continues down the block and out of his sight. his eye looking to catch the plates.

C47-6BQ. repeating it to himself for good measure.

and something in cody jostles. a squick sinking in his belly as his nerves go on disturbed. twisting to perform well in his gut. a sickening swim of intuition. the weight of an impending viciousness. a feeling he knows all too intimately well. amidst the quiet breezy heat of the afternoon, the tips of his ears warm and his fists balling. thumbs working to skim his knuckles. always restless and ready. but the quiet is nothing if not the surface of a deepened well, endless in its depth and muddy. filled with slow to die creeping things. problems thought fixed rearing with an ugliness. but these are the worst of his worries. the what if thoughts that take over him. making him restless, but ready. cody is always ready. headaches persistent from an overworking. C47-6BQ. florida plates. a gray chevy ss that drives slow. to what? to taunt him? a warning maybe?

an acknowledgement.

he hadn't agreed that night to do what they did. feeling the inner parts of him growing soft and malleable. but messages need clear words. there was, is, never any room to mince words when so little of them were at their disposal in any useful way. actions more concrete than anything that could ever be said.

KG's house, your house now, closer to him. his feet growing slower. knuckles working still in tandem with the blooming of a familiar knocking in his skull.

he'd voted for something more diplomatic. a message that read like an advisory. some agreed. seth and jey and sami.

"this ain't the fucking UN. we ain't working to save face on foreign affairs".

roman had spat that out. riled up and the ball of his fists demanding. and he couldn't be persuaded otherwise.

and that particular tasting of whiskey was hell to swallow. these slivers of guilt nestling along the bite of it. the bottle passed from man to man and mouth to mouth. a partaking sip that was as vicious as it was fraternal. a dirty burn at the back of cody's throat, before the bottle was poured out over nico jeff's back. dean's fingers working to bring about the quick flick of a match before it'd been tossed hot. the soul crush of a scream and the sizzling singe of skin. and maybe this gray chevy SS is the beginning results of a lack in diplomatic flair. and maybe it isn't. maybe cody's restlessness has finally deadened his intuition, his edge. but cody is his fathers son. and cody has never seen his father be wrong. even beyond death and the grave.

it'd been reckless. an eager show of power where such theatrics need not exist. but cody's opinions have not had room for proper growth in sometime, especially not now.

and as cody twists the house key into your front door—a key he acquired sometime after KG's death—he feels that bursting in his belly. that pulling, nagging feeling. skin skittish and his eyes taking to the quiet of the block again. waiting for what? well he's not sure but he waits anyways. painstaking seconds where the dread feels most sure, amidst the stillness, just before the coming in of the storm.

he wants to be wrong about this. strong, tired fingers twisting the knob to step over the threshold. and he wants to be wrong about his preferences too. wants to feel the guilt of his entitlement, of not wanting you here. but even that wars with other desires. fingers itching to touch you. to hear your voice without the disruptive tone of radio waves.

his head ache taunting him. playing about his skull easy. your movements swift and urgent as you move about the living room. seemingly on a mission. heaps of moving boxes everywhere still. the house cluttered and undone by such abrupt use after years of loneliness.

cody knocks. stepping in fully.

your attention shifting just barely. a half of a half of an acknowledgment that plummets the ball in his belly. doing well with this little game of silence. a large box in your arms as you move it to the corner of the living room.

"forgot you have a key", your eyes not meeting. occupied. a finger throwing away a gesture toward your car keys on the coffee table. "the car is right out front. i think the alternator is bad, the battery keeps going-"

"it's fuck me i guess".

and cody can't help the uncomfortableness of this. the skating around and the avoidance. the way you maneuver about and refuse him. a first time of it all that makes him bristle. because when you were in new york, he never had to deal with such bouts of silence. never had to wade through the terrible water of your indignation. there was never anything tumultuous or gut wrenching about this, playing a part in the skull knock of a headache and the overwhelming process of sifting through untouched, un-talked about feelings. it was easy and nice and shapeless. a private little thing to call his own. and God was it good and selfish. and shit what a fuck load of entitlement its caused. so very obviously existing on both ends of whatever this is. because you'd just expected him to perform. and he'd gone about it up til now without a syllable of push back.

"what?"

and the way you say it. like a sudden cluelessness of it all has so suddenly taken you. makes his nerves itch. a scratch he can't reach. his arms folding instead. a little more solid and upright. "some courtesy would be nice", a slow stride up to where you move about. his path blocked by boxes. "y'know considering the state of fucked your car is in, a hi or how you doing would be good to hear". his nerves still itching, face warring with itself not to grimace. the shuffle of boxes nearly sending him over a wall. and God after years, you knew still just how to set him off. silence eating him whole. "i'm doing fine by the way if you're wondering".

you sigh deep. like you're being inconvenienced. "are you good now? got that off your chest?"

its an abrupt movement. something he's barely processing till he's halfway through it. snatching a stack of boxes from your hands and setting them recklessly over the couch. his eyes hard. irritated.

"is there something here? what am i missing?"

because the tension of it unsettles him whole.

you side step and he's following diligently. patience thinning. he gives you no where to go.

"cody i just want my car-"

"the car stays unfixed until you talk to me. none of this icy, boxin me out shit".

your eyes cut to him. "i can do without the hostility".

"be upfront".

making him live in silence again. amongst the clutter of boxes and bright near blinding daylight. because this part of you has always been a process. something surgical and proving to need a little bit of method. a little bit of time. but cody's patience wears on him. thins his resolve. and such tiredness in of itself can only come from the deep well of care he's got stored in himself for you. and at this present moment 'care' is the word he chooses to commit to. a silent agreement. a word that explains the tensity of headaches and borderline nausea. butterfly's corralling in his belly to sicken him. an uncomfortableness in his body that only wanes with the slipping off of that face of disinterests you've worn so well till this second.

your eyes softer. struck with bits of pain.

"i'm not gonna be in places where m'not wanted. i'm not here to be a punching bag".

"so then why are you here?"

you bristle. "cody what are you-"

"i'm being serious. why are you here?"

because his curiosity has never taken him so wholly as to ask. only ever to accept the circumstance. but the validity of his question is true, enough for it to unearth an answer that carries just as much sincerity.

"this is home cody", you give him.

simple and plain and affirming all of his little ardent unpleasantries. because if this is home, and he's always been here, does that mean he's home too? does the possibility of that answer extend to others? question's maybe not to be answered today. question's maybe never to be considered outside such shapeless thought for the sake of his own poorly crafted peace of mind. because he can live with possibilities. with formless what if's and maybe's.

"good". a word that falls quick. full in the way it exists against the air. as sure as all the ones after it. "so fuck him then. don't let him and his bullshit run you out of where you wanna be. don't give him that".

because roman could shift the temperature of a thing quite easily. rooms and situations and people. could siphon the air to a blue-gray-skinned suffocation if it pleased him. hell he'd done it weeks ago. a harsh ability. so very fitting for him, for his heavy leather and even heavier boots. for the little patch that sew itself across the right side of his kutte. cody's president. his oh so fearless fucking leader.

but it doesn't mean that other things, other people can't live and last amidst the width and hot take of such pride.

and you concede. "you're right". looking to him with that full acknowledgment he'd wanted for some days. soft brown eyes warm.

"i don't think i've ever really been wrong about anything".

"shut up", a small smile against pretty lips.

his eyes catching the curve of them more than they should.

"c'mere".

and the effects of such a slow, gradual, embrace warm him over better than any afternoon cast over of the sun. relief and then the inevitable fluttering swarm of butterflies. that control he so easily subscribed to having earlier done away with as your arms circle about him. a tight enough embrace that brings about the beginning breaths of a resolution. smelling of autumn inspired things that arrest his senses. and maybe this is where those entitled preferences grow sour in their wrongness. maybe his earlier afternoon selfishness was some petulant, tired, anxious reaction. the coming back to life of twenty something thoughts and ideas. maybe seconds old him was right. more right than that slightly older him. because the rightness of the matter was only ever contingent upon where ever you were and where ever you wanted to be. and that he can agree with, if it meant an embrace this good.

his hands slip. wide and spreading at your back comfortable and innocent. your hands just the same at his arms. your fingers softly testing the strength of them. a slight press in he's all too aware of.

"you try to silent treatment me again for two weeks and we're gonna have problems", he plays. smiling down on you.

your eyes play at a roll. "m'sorry", you give him. teeth stuck to pull over your lip. your eyes flitting to his mouth before they return. a quick slip of a movement that does nothing to quell the rise of warmth in his fingers. that he felt and saw. a sensation he'll mull over the validity of later.

his palms come up to hold your cheeks. a tender hold that leaves you unable to look away from him. gentle eyes delicate in their waiting. your fingers holding his forearms. and this to cody feels like an agreement of the moment. the silent reciprocation of a not so newly born intimacy. the shapeless thing now found to have an edge. a streak of definition. new york and pensacola. the everlasting length of text messages and lasting too long phone calls. strung together words that almost say "i miss you", which could've been said if not for the fear of actually meaning it. and the fear of what meaning it means.

his thumb runs a streak at your skin. sincerity blooming dangerously pure. "m'very happy you're here. okay?"

if nothing else, the surest affirmation. cody hopes you believe him.

"okay".

and when the tension is far too real to believe in, cody falls away graciously. pulls in his touch and the daze of his eyes enough to regain the lasting bits of his composure. hands feeling empty at his sides before he's crossing his arms up over his chest. stepping over boxes again and making a sluggish path towards the door.

"i should have your car back by wednesday latest".

you advance with him. "just let me know how much i owe you".

his eyes roll. "we just had a nice bit of resolution. don't ruin it".

"cody i'm being serious".

you both linger amidst the threshold of the door. his eyes slipping over your skin to remember the softness. "i'm unfortunately aware. i'll see you soon".

and he doesn't think. finds even that its better not to harp on the why of whatever he does. and its innocent enough. an easy lingering kiss to your forehead. something terribly gentle. an accumulation of all the unspoken things. and with that he leaves. never giving himself the courtesy of seeing whatever you've decided to express in the wake of something as affectionate as his mouth on you.

-tuesday. the first week in june-

kill them with kindness. it's a pride-less phrase. suffers the body to think and act against itself. against the primitivity of instinct. bloodline born instinct. brass knuckle rings and the broken neck of a beer bottle. the drawing up of wet crimson blood and splotchy bruises to deserved skin. killing with kindness isn't cody's forte, but neither is senseless violence. because things need purpose. they need a reasonable decline into bitterness before that shameless stain of iron can dress his tongue. there has to be proper earthen ground to stand on before the strong, old nature of his leather takes him wholly.

that childish little shoulder check had been accounted for the moment it happened. along with roman's tantrum that led to your teary eyed bout of silence. and you'd never mentioned what he said, but cody felt the possibility of a violation. a deep splitting open of the skin all for the sake of proving that he could do it. that too had been accounted for. and the more he thinks on it, richie's funeral—though no funeral begins or ends well—was only a few steps from a mess. an uneven state of affairs. touch and go as they say. everything too thinly spread, and the histories now existing with too much distance. which has been, was, and is never good. because unbridged gaps promote weakness in the foundation. and naturally, roman—stuck in whatever thoughts of his own—gives no effort in making it easier.

and cody can feel it, amongst the swelter of the summer sun. the heat talking, taunting through slim breezes. their time approaching soon. a clashing up one against the other, like the stressing violence of metal against metal. he just hopes time for it is sooner than later. before the foundation is too weak to be resolved.

it's interesting though, funny even, because cody isn't a grudge keeper. doesn't go all out in the meticulous process of such an angry keeping of the score. but that faithful swarming of butterflies, care and the need to please, they use him well as a champion to do their, his inner, bidding. posing and propping him up as this great defender.

and roman makes no qualms about going unheard. unnoticed. his body tall, blotting out the spread of one of many lights shinning above your car. lips spreading in that amused way that works to cover up the lesser delighted parts of him. "if i knew we did free work i'd put up a sign or two. let the people know how generous of a business we've become". roman's hands pressing into the car to lean inward. a proximity that performs well to make anybody with sense uncomfortable. "i'm a charitable man cody, but i got my limits".

cody hums. continues the process of switching out your alternator. because you were right, the alternator was fried, causing your battery to drain. an easy enough fix for him, but roman attempting his little show of dominance didn't do much to help.

"i guess i'm just a little more compassionate".

roman chuckles. turns to lean up against the car where cody works. arms crossed and relaxed. giving him enough space to perform the fix but not enough to do it comfortably. "being a doormat isn't compassion rhodes. it's just being a doormat. humor me though..." he begins. "what's the little deal you two got set up?" roman's faux interest running annoyingly under cody's skin. "you do a little fixin' here and there and then what? she pats you on the back? gives a little scratch behind the ear? tells you how good of a boy you are for her?"

a dog? really? the abuse of it cutting into one ear and refusing to leave out the other. a deep lodging that slots up and slips in against the warmth of his blood. and yes. it's accounted for. like the ticking scratch of a pencil to check through a box. "i don't know roman you tell me". alternator be damned. the heat of the day sticking to cody ungraciously. "you got it all figured out, maybe you know something i don't. six or seven years, cause honestly who knows or gives a shit, of prior experience on the resume and all. thats a long time for skill buildin, to be wrapped around her finger".

and cody sees roman falter. the slightest bit of a half step. a small little tell so often easily missed. can feel his chest burst wild and so damn delighted. that subtle jaw twitch beneath his president’s beard.

roman is close. eyes hard, narrowing over cody's face. "it's nothing you got that's better than shit she's already had. that i can promise you".

"you keep mistaking me for someone you're in competition with".

"competition ain't a word in my vocabulary, but i'll humor you", smiling mirthless. "if it were, we're still levels apart. it's actual comedy how uneven the paying field is here".

"and you're so right about that", cody fully amused. "considering just how much she avoids even saying your name, i think i like the level i'm at".

and this was it. the steady decline into bitterness, fixed only by that warlike clashing. an affair close enough, the phantom taste of something iron, wet and pungent on cody's tongue. because it'd happened before, history always finding a way to rhyme. to unearth already thought to be dead things that were not so lifeless after all.

"hey!", the far reach of deans voice, echoing over loud against the walls of the shop. "kiss and get a room or break it up!".

cody is right. killing with kindness is treason against the body. against words and instinct. an esteem-less, pride-less thing. and he quite likes his pride.

-wednesday. the first week in june-

text message | incoming: are you busy later in the evening?

text message | cody r: shouldn't be. whats up?

text message | incoming: making dinner. you should come by.

text message | cody r: absolutely. your car is all fixed up btw. need me to bring anything else?

text message | incoming: just you❤️

it means nothing. it means, nothing. it. means. nothing. and the feeling is juvenile. overly sentimental and spilling over. a losing fight as he urges himself not to break with a smile. because cody is old, or at least old enough not to fall into such thrills reminiscent of early twenty something wish and desire. but that doesn't stop the sickly sweet churn in his belly, nor does it keep his eyes from falling over the short exchange of texts. these little flits across the screen, a short comb over, as if with the third and fourth time the letters will reappear to read something different and new and less intimate. less domestic. because he fixed your car and now he's left with the silly assumption that you're making him dinner for it. not just for him but for him all the same. and its all stupid and oddly sitting under his skin. swarming tight in his belly so much so that he walks awkwardly amongst the cloudy chill of the afternoon air. it means something, but for the sake of his peace it will have to mean all of nothing.

his stomach growling on a dangerously annoying cue. body ready to make the trip back to pensacola. marianna, florida suddenly too far from home—a mere two hour drive—for proper comfort.

but his leather keeps him bound to club business. his shoes kicking up the loose dirt of the beginnings of a wide patch of land. a ranch spreading out over for some acres. grass reaching his ankles and the air crisp with the teasing smell of rain. seth and dean marching forward just in front of him, seemingly more focused. void of an ardently born frenzy about the nerves.

and in the distance, just at the entrance of a corned off shack, steve waves them over, before disappearing inside. the scuffling walk over to the shoddy wooden build of it giving cody enough time to steel over his expression and the manner of his disposition. because they were on a ranch after all, surrounded by the easy roam of an abundance of cattle being raised commercially. a job like that surely needing an expert level of perception. perception cody is sure steve austin has. what with the stoic manner of his eyes and the mirthless pull of his mouth. always watching and quietly discerning. even with the satisfaction of good business, cody has yet to see the rancher actually smile ever. cody figures he'll save his musings for another time.

"boys", steve greets. reaching his hand to greet them. firm shakes before he's uplifting duffle bags from off the shack floor and placing them atop a wooden table. unzipping them to reveal the disassembled parts of a variety of fire arms.

"how's business steve?" dean gives, as the three of them look over the contents of the bags. touching against cool, dangerous metal.

"sometimes good, sometimes not so great, but it goes either way", his voice coarse. "m'hopin we can facilitate business well enough without issue".

"a simple pick up now and drop off later", seth starts. "it's nothing we haven't done before".

and steve hums. the noise of it short lived and singing low as it considers seth's assurance. a hum so obviously filling itself with disbelief. steve austin unpersuaded as he makes to lean up against the dusty wooden wall of the shack. blue-grey eyes falling over the three of them. "well usually our business isn't accompanied by so much of a ...spectacle, which is never simple". something like mirth taking his expression, forming wryly. "i didn't know pyro-theatrics were in you all's arena of business".

something in cody winces. a flinching of his memory as it works with a tireless hand of remembrance. smelling now amidst the earthiness of the ranch that pungent burn of alcohol and nico's skin. his screams as the sizzling melt of his flesh sings hot and dirty. the heavy disappointment felt from that night, filling cody whole once more. his insides malleable and undone by discontent. a decision made he'll always hate.

but dean chuckles the silence off. a lazy, toothy smile along with it. "we're a uh...multi act group. a variety show if you will".

"i can admire the severity of it, but also, i gotta say...", steve starts. leading them out of the shack and to their parked truck. duffle bags filling their hands as they all make way across the ranch. "...i don't like it much considering it hasn't done nothing for you all but draw some attention".

and if nothing else causes a failing in the security of cody's nerve, this does. a fast to plummet drop in his stomach and the quick maneuver of his memory once more. a swift to move flooding of curiosity filled with anxious debris. that grey chevy rolling by slowly and the horribly conspicuous tinted windows. not a warning but an acknowledgment. he breaks his silence. "how'd you hear about it?"

"got a call from a buddy of mine over in tallahassee askin about the bloodline and that boy yall burnt up. apparently he's connected. well enough for some trouble i'd assume".

which affirms the existence of the chevy. C47-6BQ, the plate number this echoing mantra about cody's thoughts. eager to remember it for use later. a beat of silence falling over them all as they load in the duffle bags. and what a coincidence it is, for the day to be overtaken by that edging smell of rain. not yet willing to unleash the brunt of it's power but settling to tease them all the same.

"he was trying to set up a base of sorts near pensacola beach, dealing off the boardwalk and out of some local bars, pushing laced shit", dean goes. his vice president's patch catching cody's eye. black fabric sewn against a gray silver to spell out his rank. his thoughts rolling into words, never straying too far from roman's way of thinking. "our city has been free of the hard stuff for as long as we’ve been around. askin nicely didn’t work for this guy. we're just tryna keep our side of the street clean".

seth nods, catching deans eye, though he's slow to do so. weary still, cody is sure. steve settling over cody, sharp eyes searching. a silent examination. looking for doubts, cody is sure of that too. but he gives nothing. says nothing.

"an admirable act for sure", steve nods. his eyes appearing more gray than blue as they live under the cloudiness of the afternoon sky. cody feeling the brunt of them still, sharp cuts into the skin of his face. steve looking for an agreement maybe, or the sign of a grievance. and though the discontentment remains sure, cody's loyalty reigns better than the softer parts of him that work to veer off into less agreeable thoughts and ideas. and it will always remain that way so long as his leather sticks to his body. fraternal codes and all that jazz. never letting the outsiders know of such disagreements and presenting a united front.

"im guessin we feel good about the merchandise?", steve asks.

dean reaches out for a handshake as he goes to speak. cody and seth gesturing the same. "absolutely. beautiful stuff as always".

"drop off is the same?'", steve making his way back slowly.

"yes sir".

"word of advice from an animal enthusiast", steve starts. slowly walking backwards to face them still. "no more of the fanfare theatrics. if you plan on puttin down an animal, a bullet between the eyes gets the job done quick and just fine".

a thing easier said than done. the free fall of those words—"gets the job done quick and just fine"—growing a torturous distance from the ability he had once upon a time, when such time was endless. because way back when, cody could feel that crunch of gravel beneath his feet everywhere he walked and thought himself untouchable. an inherited hubris for sure. leather over his shoulders like armor and the roar of his engine this endless war cry of invincibility. he took cuts and bruises and the slices of knives as easy as the road would the simple skid of a rubber wheel. but the days grow shorter here in this older age. the memory in his muscle though quick, not as quick to perform as it used to be. his head wild with the outburst of an aching almost always and his body tired.

and although the trip from pensacola to marianna and back was a usual one, the ride this time seemed to be quieter. those piled up duffle bags of violent metal heavier and the doom in his belly rolling over harsher than normal.

but that burden in cody never eases, only ever turning itself into something different. the cloudiness of the day rolling over into the evening. the sharp smell of rain resting in the air still. teasing him. your house porch light glowing a warm yellow as he steps up to it. keys in hand and that swarming flutter in his belly. hunger and a not yet spoken into the air passion forming this terrible marriage under his skin. leather draped over it all like a second skin.

he steps into the house, met with a savory warmth. something fragrant that eases the tension. his boots thudding softly over old hardwood floors. music low and melodic to fill in those pockets of dead silence. your maneuvers about the kitchen a little less than fluid. body still coming into a slow to perform remembrance after a great forgetting.

but you hear him. throwing words over your shoulder. "leather off at the door please". something your mothers used to say to your fathers. trying their best to grasp at control over a life bigger than them all.

and cody obliges. feels the domesticity of it running rife in him so much till it starts to smoothen out the ache in his head and the weight in his belly. "hey", speaking gentle. unable to help himself as a hand finds the hard work of your arm, a brief interruption where he squeezes tenderly to let you know he's there. "hey", you give back. similar in how warm and delicate it feels against the air. an arm curling his waist as you reach to kiss at that patch of skin thats too close to his mouth to be his cheek, but too far from his mouth to be anything more than what it is. that 'what it is', he has no damn clue. but it feels good. a little more than amazing maybe.

he stands off and away enough to let you finish what looks to be a dinner thats a little more abundant in nature than he was expecting. leaning up against the counter as you dip a spoon through the heat of a thick gravy. "smells good".

"i hope it taste good", a thread of nerve weaving through as you scoop the spoon. "i haven't made a roast in a while but here, try this", giving up the silverware. leaving cody to nearly melt in the richness of it. reminding him of old times even. bloodline sunday dinners and the simple inconvenience of wanting to be anywhere but with his parents and their friends. "missing anything?"

"a plate and a drink".

you smile. reaching above in the cabinets for a yet to be opened bottle. the cold of cody's blue eyes slipping easy as they lay over the skin that peaks as your top rises up with the reach of your arms. and then the quick awkward look away, warmth in his cheeks as he feels the childish guilt of it.

"is wine ok?"

"s'perfect".

and no he does not mean to stare so deeply. to emphasize the pronunciation of a word that implies such flawlessness, but it happens. makes that meeting of the eyes last a little longer. a lingering that works well enough with low playing melodies that it forces your tell. lip stuck between the pull of your teeth. turning back to the food that waits impatiently, seeking a reprieve.

you push at him playfull. in a fashion that begs for the air to be a little more breathable again. "ok go sit at the couch", turning back to your accomplishment of the night. "i'll be there".

a certain pride swelling in his chest as he makes way to get comfortable on the couch. effectively influencing your nerves enough to cause a little speechlessness was more than cody hoped for tonight. taking in the cleanliness of the living room as he waits. the space bursting with earth tones and splashes of green. the smaller details slightly different, but the feel of the house remains, even with the age of it. the glass of old framed photos clearer, having been cleaned. the boxes working to overtake the floor corners no longer there, the shelves decorated with what must be things collected from your time in new york. a small bowl of rings at the center of the coffee table catching his eye so much that cody reaches for it. carved silver rings he remembers your father wearing all the time. so much so that the impressions remained in his skin.

you bring the wine and glasses first. walking back for the plates. sitting a comfortable distance away from him on the couch. close but not too much. enough for the air not to be so thick and consuming.

"you never told me how much i owe you for the alternator".

the sincerity of that making cody's eyes roll, albeit a little more playful than serious. his fork working over the plate to dig into it. leaving you to hear him hum with delight at the taste. "dinner makes us even".

another smile riding through to stretch over your lips. a comfortable wordless air settling over. quiet enough aside from the low ride of the music for cody to notice the wane of his headache. never afforded the grace of a full reprieve from such a pain but here, now, it's the dullest it's been for sometime. and he doesn't necessarily want to do the work of thinking over exactly what that means but he can feel the beginnings of that truth. in the heat of his cheeks and the ride up of a tingling over his spine.

"i feel like fixin the car up for me is the latest thing in a long like of things you've done for me", your plate set aside on the coffee table. glass in hand and trying your best to meet his eyes. "i might be cooking for you for a while to pay you back".

"if it's anything like this, i'll be over here all the time". setting his plate down next to yours. turning to face you more. "for real though, whatever it is, i'm here. i got you".

and he isn't sure what of what he said does it, but something flashes through the brown of your eyes. like the quick burning soar of a celestial body. working hot to cover the space of your memory before it disappears. your mouth sipping at your glass again.

"how's your mom?"

a piece of his curiosity cody has held off on revealing for a while till now.

"she's good". a neutral expression. a less rigid disposition even. "spoke to her maybe three or four weeks ago".

"did you tell her about coming back home?"

"we spoke about it briefly", your thumb rubbing over the body of the wine glass. "she didn't have much to say about it".

"m'glad you both found some footing with each other".

"yeah", you nod. lost in thought. an arm bending to rest up on the couch. you head falling into your palm. "i think after everything with my dad, the door opened up some for us, but a lot of things for me just changed really quick". the music you have playing, a sweet addition to your voice. your eyes finally meeting him. sincerity blooming full but with a pace that notes the fragility of its unfurling. "we sorta, kinda, reconnected after dusty went, but i think after my pops died i understood you a lot more". eyes nearly nailing into him now. a quick difference from the timidity of them just moments prior. "being in new york, i was used to living alone but not feeling that way y'know? like in the back of my mind when he was alive i could eventually just come back home to him, to everything...", your voice dropping off.

a heavy sigh he can only imagine the weight of. sipping from your wine and resting the glass down before you finish your thoughts.

"...what i'm trying to say is...is that you understood me in a way that felt good. i didn't have to explain myself because you just knew what it meant to lose like that".

his hand reaching to hold over yours. body shuffling against the soft leather of the couch to get closer. a comfort he can't afford to deny either of you. thumb circling the skin delicately. a faint touch that waits for acceptance. and when it comes the embrace of your hands are full and nearly overwhelming. fingers tangling as they curl over one another sweetly.

"it goes both ways though", he gives. "thats why it's so easy to talk to you". a beat of silence. his words so far from a full admission of feeling but the affects of such a release tear through him all the same. heart stuttering and his belly twisting. his hand in yours still, playing aimlessly against the skin. eyes trailing over all the free space. "how you holdin up here on your own? is the house too big for you?"

and cody only forgets he's without his leather at the feel of your hand trailing up his arm. over the ways of old tattoos and muscle. a faint squeeze to test the strength of it that he can just barely make out. as if to examine a particular quality he has yet to figure out. your thumb pressing into the inner fold of his elbow. "i think i just need to get used to it again. my apartment in new york was small, so it was fine being by myself". your eyes fall over him. warm from the yellow glow of the living room lamps. feeling them drift to his mouth before they return quickly to his own eyes. "it's just a lot of stuff attached to this place. i just need to readjust, but m'pretty used to living alone".

"that doesn't mean you like it", he says. enjoying the soft touches to his arm still.

"very true".

"let me know though if that changes. we can always find something else for you".

you smile. "look at you being all worried about me". squeezing his arm playfully before getting up to take the plates back to the kitchen. giving him a much needed cut in such thick aired tension.

"ice cream?", you call out.

dishes and utensils clattering in the background.

he sighs. needing nothing else. "m'good thanks". waiting for your return to the couch.

a bowl and a spoon in your hand as you pad softly over back to him. legs pressing into the couch as you go to sit with your legs folded under. "can i ask something?" your eyes curious. slipping over him with some hesitancy.

"shoot".

your hand plays with the scoop of the spoon, dipping in before you go to taste it. a silence as you so obviously string together words. gears turning. "at the end of last year, you told me you were seeing someone. what happened to her?"

"why?"

"you talked about her quite a bit, was just wondering".

and never has the admission of anything been so burdensome till now. a weight atop his shoulders threatening to fall into his body till it flattened him. crushing bone and that faithful spirit of possibility. cody could live with what if's, could live in the terrible purgatory of maybe's and daydreams. he'd been doing so for sometime even. settling into a comfortability so stagnant that it left him statuesque. but the room is laden with a melodic tune still, the forever ache about his head nearly done away with and the memory of your easy touch playing over thought. maybe now is the time. as he's so terribly subdued by the moment. maybe now is the chance to tether together the words always left unsaid.

"you want the truth?"

your eyes flit to him. these little flecks of weariness. "why wouldn't i?"

he sighs. ignoring the twist in his belly. "at the top of this year you asked me to make copies of the keys to here because you were seriously considering coming back to florida for good".

"i hadn't fully decided yet though".

"the fact that you considered it was enough for me".

"i see".

your eyes on the coffee table. forsaking him. or thats what it feels like at least. an awfulness biting into him slowly. ripping into the skin where his stomach lives. his ears warm, the heat feeding into his face till it rises in his cheeks.

"listen", cody starts. looking to salvage what he can. "i didn't mean to-"

a sugary vanilla taste slipping over his mouth. your lips quite cold but sweet. the abrupt feel of them softer than imagined. the fulfillment of such imaginings only coming into a full registering once the thick heat of your thighs set over. an easy maneuver to straddle him. your palms at his cheeks and your lips firmer. his tongue licking in slow. savoring the milky taste. a moan breaking up quick, his fingers running beneath your shirt to curl lazily into supple skin. working as an extension of memory. using his touch as a tool to stain himself with everything of you. and God does it feel good. relief washing him whole. a good sort of creep in his spine as your nails run at the nape of his neck.

his arms embrace you more. the simple hold of your hips slipping into a hug of your body that fastens you to him. another moan filling up his chest before it leaves him, loving the little pick and tug your teeth give his lip.

a phone rings. stutters the momentum of passion.

you groan annoyed. hiding your face in the dip of his neck.

"i think that's you", cody says. palms feeling up on your skin still. working beneath your shirt. getting used to the tenderness.

you lift up from him. reaching for your phone to tug it out of your back pocket, answering quickly.

"hello", you give. "hello?" your eyes rolling as you end the call. "so damn annoying", you gripe. pulling away from him to sit back against the couch.

his curiosity piqued. "whats the number?"

"it's blocked". setting the phone down. mildly irritated. "thats the third time thats happened though".

it's hard, not to immediately think the worst. "when was the last time?"

"on my lunch break the other day-"

"what day?"

the sudden inquisition of it all gets to you, but it all feels too convenient not to question.

"i don't know cody", rubbing your hands over your eyes. "monday".

another ring. clashing terribly against the mellow drive of the music you have going. whatever residuals of intimacy that still lived in the air, now done away with. this time the call blaring from his phone. a shrill noise that brings back the throb of his head ache. he answers quickly, standing from the couch and making way to the living room windows. a peak between the blinds to scope out for anything oddly placed.

"dean", he gives into his phone.

"cody quick question". the noise of paper flipping in the background over dean's voice. "i just turned down service on a chevy malibu, the plates looked phony as hell and the girl was being a bit of a weirdo when i asked for the vin. you work on any red chevy's lately?"

"not that i can remember. you get the plate number by chance?"

"yeah, it was C47-6BQ".

we gonna stop it there but yeah, the drama is gearing up. some roman next chapter i promise!

#cody rhodes #cody rhodes fic #cody rhodes fanfiction #cody rhodes fanfic #biker!cody rhodes #biker au #biker! roman reigns #roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fic #roman reigns fanfic #tanks of blood #joannasteez #black reader #female reader #stone cold steve austin featured #dean ambrose featured #seth rollins featured #its a long read

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