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trippinsorrows · 4 months ago

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looking through your eyes + four

authors note: hi! thank you so much for everyone who has left such kind words for this story! i'm so appreciative for the support and interest!

this one, i think, depicts a lot of contradicting thoughts and feelings for our two favorite characters. that's intentional.

i also take some creative liberties with medical and wrestling shit. let's just go with it, friends, por favor.

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

cw/tw: language, violence, sexual harassment, hints at past self-harm, allusions to past suicide attempt, references to traumatic pasts

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

words: 10k

Roman has spent years coming home to a dark, empty house. It’s been his preference for just as long, enjoying the isolation following day after day of shit that needs to be handled. Because that’s usually how shit plays out for him. Roman’s always calling the shots, always figuring out how to navigate difficult, sticky situations.

It's just what he does.

It’s why he’s been able to advance the Bloodline as much as he has. Because Roman is a man playing professional chess among a group of elementary checker players.

And he’d never voice or admit it to anyone, but the weight does sometimes get to him in one way or another. So, he’s learned to appreciate solitude.

But he’s not met with solitude upon entering his home, which is both surprising and irritating considering it’s pushing 2 o’clock in the morning.

The only sound he should hear is the sound of his heavy footsteps from the front door to the bedroom. Instead, his feet carry him into the source of said sounds that are more pots banging and dishes being washed.

That’s how he immediately knows who it is without needing to check. But, Roman is more curious as to why she’s in the damn kitchen at this time of night instead of sleeping than the noise itself.

And he goes to ask as such when he gets even closer and realizes there’s more to the sound than clanging pots and running water. A soft, melodic, almost soothing voice singing in a language he doesn’t understand but recognizes as Spanish.

Solana is singing, and she’s singing well, beautiful even. So much so that he finds himself leaning against the wall closest to the kitchen, watching as she moves about, earbuds pressed in her ears making her oblivious to his presence.

There’s a sense of relaxation to her, an almost smile as she sings. She doesn’t seem nervous nor skittish….just at peace.

That is she turns around and realizes he's standing there, watching her.

She snatches her earbuds out and immediately jumps on the train of unnecessary apologies. “I’m sorry! I didn’t—-you said you’d be back late.”

He chuckles, calmly pointing out, “it’s almost 2am.”

Her face is flushed red with unnecessary embarrassment. “I thought—I guess I figured that meant you’d come back in the morning.”

“I sleep in my own bed, if I can help it.” It’s a comfort thing, a nod to his preference for solitude. He’s never even stayed the night with Samantha, mostly because he knows her ass would see that as a damn marriage proposal.

Well, maybe not anymore.

“Why are you still up?”

“I—I couldn’t sleep.” It’s a simple answer he’s certain also includes a very real, dark backstory as to why she can’t sleep. He’s been there.

He gets it.

“I’ll be done soon—"

“You can stay up as long as you want. I don’t care.” And it’s true. The house is big enough for her to be making as much noise as she needs, and he probably wouldn’t hear anything from where his room is. He also recognizes the misery that comes with wanting but not being able to sleep, so if being in the kitchen is her distraction, then he’s good with that.

Of course, she continues with the apologies. “I’m sorry about the music—I just—the house was too quiet. I—I don’t like the quiet.”

“Solana.” He has to interrupt her. Roman’s not in the mood for her apology tour. Granted, he does hone in on the part of not liking the quietness of the house. Of course she would be the opposite of him. “I don’t care. Do what you want. Shit doesn’t impact me.”

Roman can see she’s unsure of how to take his words, most likely wondering if there’s some catch, if it’s followed up with a stipulation. But, there is none. As long as it doesn’t impact him, she can do what she wants.

“You have a nice voice,” he compliments, because again, it’s the truth. He’d never taken her as the singing type, but gradually, Roman is starting to see there may be more to Solana than meets the eye.

Her unsure expression remains unchanged with the exception of her blush deepening as she mumbles a quiet, “thank you.”

Compliments of any sort seem to bother her, or maybe it’s less they bother her and more she’s unsure of how to respond because she’s not used to them.

He’d lean more on the side of that being the case.

Nevertheless, Roman decides to leave her be. “I’m going to bed.”

“Okay,” she says almost sheepishly, adding a quiet, “goodnight.”

Roman takes her in, the quietness and passiveness no longer as irritating as he once thought and believed it to be. It might still irk him, but the level of irritation isn’t as high as it used to be.

Whatever that means.

“Goodnight, Solana….”

————

From day one of moving into Roman's mansion, Solana has noticed the watch dogs that occasionally patrol the premises along with the armed guards. And while she’s always been tempted to ask to pet one, she’s also always decided against it. These dogs, like their handlers, are trained killers, not emotional support animals.

They’re not there for her to treat like objects.

But it’s when she walks outside, ready to head off to work, that she notices one guard with a dog Solana hasn’t seen before, a puppy, that she finds it in her to approach. With a couple minutes to spare before she has to leave for work, interacting with a dog seems like a nice way to start off the day.

Hand on her purse strap, she shoves back her anxiety about approaching this strange man, asking in a soft voice, “i–is he new?”

The guard sizes her up and down, answering with a gruff, “yeah.”

Solana looks down at the dog who’s also staring up at her with just as much curiosity. Smiling gently, she carefully crouches down and waits for him to move closer. There's a generous leeway of his leash that would allow him to do so.

Sure enough, the dog walks over to her, ears down. Giggling, she cautiously moves to pet him. “You’re so sweet….” And he is. Solana wonders if he’ll retain that sweetness once he undergoes his training. Unlikely. “Good boy…”

“He’s not a fucking pet.” The guard harshly scolds, giving a tug on the leash that makes the dog start to growl. Solana frowns, recognizing he’s annoyed with her interruption.

“I’m sor—”

But before she can finish her sentence, there’s a flash before her that seems almost too quick for her vision to process. But, when she does, she realizes Roman is now present, directly in front of the guard, hand wrapped around his throat.

“Speak to her like that again, and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out your mouth.” His voice is as menacing and terrifying as the fire in his eyes. Roman shoves the man forward and demands. “Apologize. Now.”

The man is coughing, struggling to regulate his breathing but still manages to cough up a muttered, “I’m sorry.”

Solana feels and probably looks stumped at hearing such a thing. She can’t recall the last time someone has ever uttered those words to her. Understandably, she doesn’t know how to respond or react.

“Leave,” Roman demands. And Solana isn’t sure she’s seen a man haul off as quickly as he does, guiding the dog along with him.

Roman takes in her appearance as she stands up, nervously brushing any invisible lint off her pants. “You good?”

She nods, still not quite knowing how to take this. How to take Roman seemingly defending her. Or maybe he’s just defending what belongs to him. It has to be the latter of the two, because why would he care about defending her?

Red-faced, she tries to explain her actions. “It—it was my fault. I just—I saw the dog, and I just—I wanted to pet it.”

“Why are you apologizing for someone being rude to you? Does that shit make sense to you?” When he says it like that, no, it doesn’t. But it’s clearly meant to be rhetorical, as he then asks, “you like dogs?”

Nodding, she clarifies. “Small dogs, mostly. Big ones, umm, they kinda scare me.” As do most things. This, she’s sure, he’s noticed by now. “Uhh—what time do you want dinner ready?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll be back late tonight.”

“Oh.” Solana is unsure why there’s a strange sense of disappointment in her belly at this. Late….

In her experience with her dad and brother, that usually means they won’t be back until the next day, most likely in the morning.

This should make her feel a bit relieved, not having to be on edge, feeling worried about upsetting him.

Even if the only thing regarding her that she’s seen upset him is when he perceives she’s being disrespected.

She’s not quite sure what to make of that either.

“Ayo, Lil’ Soso.” A new voice enters the conversation, one she’s gradually growing comfortable and used to. Jey walks out with a rubbermaid container in his hand, chewing obnoxiously as he approaches Solana and Roman. “What are these things? They’re pretty good.”

There’s a couple of things to process in that one interaction, starting with the nickname Jey has used to refer to her in the times she’s run into him in the house. The twins, along with Paul, seem to be at the mansion often. The interactions though, have allowed her to feel less tense around him. Around Jimmy too.

She hasn’t had enough interaction with Paul to feel that way about him, and she’s certain that won’t change. He seems only concerned with Roman and no one else, which is valid and fair considering his role as Roman’s chief advisor.

Going back to his question, she answers, “conchas.”

“Con what?”

His expression and delivery make her smile. “Conchas. It’s a Mexican pan dulce. Sweet bread.”

“I don’t know half of what you said, but this shit good as hell. You got any more?”

“Don’t you have fucking food at your house?” Solana would never show or admit to it, but it’s sometimes funny to her how Roman seems almost always annoyed with his eccentric cousins. There’s no doubt in her mind though that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill for them, that he’s probably done so. And vice versa.

But they also seem to get on his nerves just as much.

“Man, Nicki on that shit again, talking about she ain’t cooking until I start treating her right. Me and the kids been eating out.”

Kids? That surprises her. She didn’t know Jey was a father.

“Solana! When you train with Naomi, can you exchange some recipes with her or something?” Jimmy also joins in the conversation, walking over while rubbing his stomach. “Cause I don’t know what that meal was in the blue container, but shit slapped.”

It takes a minute for her to remember which one that was. She’s always been a bit meticulous about separating her meals accordingly. “Carnitas Huevos Rancheros.”

Jimmy hesitates. “Yeah sure, that.”

“Am I running a fucking food pantry?” It’s hard to tell if Roman is genuinely annoyed. Something tells her it’s that type of irritation he naturally gets with the twins but won’t actually do anything about. “It’s not her job to feed you idiots.”

“I don’t mind,” she offers, adding. “I–I like to cook.” And it’s the truth. It reminds Solana of her mom, of all the times she’d spend in the kitchen learning from and spending time with the one and only person on this planet who ever loved her.

“See, Uce, she likes to cook,” Jey points out, wiping the crumbs off his fingers on his pants and tucking the now empty container under his arm. “I’ll just take this off your hands.”

Solana’s watch vibrating, reminding her that her shift starts in half an hour, is the perfect reminder that while this conversation is comical, it’s also interfering with her schedule. She’s also certain Solo is waiting patiently, or impatiently, by the SUV for her to jump in so they can get a move on. “I—I’ve gotta get to work, but I can have the food ready by tomorrow. I’ll just come home and cook after training.”

“If you feel like it,” Roman adds, and she knows better than to push back and tell him cooking is one of the few escapes she has. It’s become even more of an escape without the anxiety and pressure of her dad and brother demanding the food always be ready in sometimes unrealistic time frames and lashing out when that doesn’t happen.

To Roman’s credit, if he’s ever been annoyed with waiting a few extra minutes for meals, he’s done a perfect job not showing as such.

She simply nods, acknowledging his stipulation, offering a quiet ‘bye’ as she jogs off to the SUV with Solo ready to escort her to work.

It’s when she’s gone that Jimmy walks up beside Roman. “Man, she can cook, she don’t got a smartass mouth, and she got a body? Shit, Uce, ain’t you glad I told you to go with her?” Roman doesn’t offer a reply, but he definitely gives Jimmy that look that lets his cousin know to get away from him. Roman’s always been big on personal space.

“Does she cook every night?” Jey comes up, asking with an almost level of excitement. “Shit, me and the kids finna start coming over here.”

“Shut up.” The hell they will. Roman is still adjusting to living with someone. The last thing he needs is his cousin and his spawns running around his place, making noise, breaking and touching shit. Not going to happen. “Is Paul already at the office?”

“Yeah. He’s got the updated figures for you to go over. And the RKO proposal was sent over as well for you to review.”

Nodding, Roman starts to create a mental agenda for tasks he needs to complete for the day. And it goes without saying that he’s forever impressed how his cousins are easily able to slide back and forth between professional bag and bumbling morons.

It’s one of the reasons he keeps them around and as high up in command as they are.

“Good,” Roman acknowledges, sliding his sunglasses over his eyes. “Let’s go.”

————

“Hey!”

Naomi’s smile is just as bright and genuine as the first time Solana met her, and that’s something she doesn’t know how to take. A part of her figured Naomi was just being nice to her because Roman was around, because she was given an order, and no one defies the Tribal Chief’s orders.

And maybe she could even chalk this up to being an order as well, Roman tasking her with training Solana on how to fight, hence the continued kindness.

Regardless of the motivating factor, this woman is clearly a capable and trained fighter. A killer.

Solana would do well to stay on her good side.

“It’s good to see you. We didn’t really get a chance to talk much, but obviously, I’m Naomi. Jimmy’s wife.” For some reason, Solana can see it. Can see these two together, even if she’s only been around both less than a handful of times. “I train a lot of the new recruits, mostly women, some men.”

“Men?”

Naomi chuckles. “That’s typically their reaction too. Right before I remind them who I am and what I can do.”

Solana isn’t sure she wants to know the answer to either of those.

“Just out of curiosity, do you have any kind of combat training? Fighting knowledge in general?” It’s a valid question that only has one embarrassing answer. Solana guesses that Naomi picks up on this embarrassment, adding gently, “it’s okay if you don’t. It just gives me a baseline on where we should start.”

“No—I—I’ve never done anything like this before.” And she’s still not sure if she wants to, not sure what Roman thinks she will get from this. Him, along with everyone else around her, learned how to shoot a gun at the same time they learned how to walk. She doesn’t think she’s ever even held a gun. There’s no way humanly possible she could ever be even a fraction as good at this.

And Roman has to know this.

So, why is he making me do it?

Again, either Naomi is insanely perceptive or Solana is much worse at hiding her emotions than she initially believed.

She’d bet on the latter of the two.

“He doesn’t want you to be like us. He just—”

“He wants you to stop being so damn weak,” a new voice interjects. Solana recognizes the tall, intimidating woman from before when Roman had taken her to the Warehouse. She hadn’t had any direct interaction, but just the mere fact alone that she’d simply looked at Solana with disgust told her all she needed to know. “Wants you to grow a backbone.”

“Nia.” Naomi’s smile is dropped, traded for an intense stare. “Lay off her, okay? You heard what Roman said.”

“Oh yeah, we have to be nice to her.” Nia’s smile is mocking, her unimpressed gaze taking in Solana from head to toe. But Solana focuses on what Nia just said versus her judgmental countenance. Did Roman really tell them to be nice to her? Why? Why would he do that?

Nia walks over, crossing her arms over her body. “Well, here’s some kind advice, I can tell from one look at you that life hasn’t been very nice to you. But that doesn’t make you special.”

Naomi steps in. “Nia!”

“Bad shit happens to people all the time. At some point, you have to stop allowing yourself to be a victim.” If not for the fact that Solana knows Nia can’t stand her, she’d almost think Nia is offering what she believes to be genuine advice vs judging her. “You’re here. You survived it. Make that survival worth something.”

Naomi pushes Nia away from Solana, saying something to her that appears to be in defense of Solana, which she’d appreciate if not for the fact that she’s now in her head.

Nothing Nia said is inherently wrong. The world is undoubtedly both good and bad, perfect yet imperfect, wholly and incompletely balanced. These are all facts she’s well aware of, but what Nia doesn’t know or understand yet is that a person still being here doesn’t mean they survived.

Solana is already broken.

There is no survival.

There’s just existence.

“Don’t listen to Nia,” Naomi advises. Looking around, Solana sees that at some point in her dissociation, Nia departed. Naomi continues with that same warm smile. “She can be a bitch sometimes, but she does mean well…..occasionally.” Hands on her hip, Naomi brings the attention back to the whole reason Solana is even at the Warehouse. “How about we just start with flexibility and mobility? Most of us are smaller than the men, and you definitely are, girl.”

Small……

That’s a word Solana has never thought to use to describe herself.

“Being smaller means we can move around faster, can navigate around an attacker in a bit of a quicker way. But, you also have to be able to move in a way that’s lithe. Don’t worry. I gotchu, girl.”

They are reassuring words, words that Solana is grateful for, especially as they begin and she feels completely out of her element. Because she is. Solana isn’t the least bit lithe, and she’s certain her hand eye coordination is straight up shit.

But regardless of all that, Naomi remains kind, patient, and even makes conversation with her.

It doesn’t feel like she’s being made to do this, but more like something she gets to do. And Solana is grateful for that interaction, for the space to not feel like she’s burdening someone. That feels nice. So, so nice.

But equilibrium is a hard thing to achieve and even harder to maintain, so while one safe space is being created, another unsafe space is gradually forming in the midst of her oblivion.

Austin Theory and Grayson Waller, two upcoming, arrogant, fighters and wannabe heads have used the Warehouse for their training space for the past few months after finally proving and gaining access to the elite training grounds.

And while the initiation and acceptance process was brutal and would ward most off from fucking up their membership status, Austin and Grayson have always been hardheaded, too blinded by their own hubris to recognize when they’re about to shoot themselves in the foot.

And shooting themselves is the least of their worries when Grayson is casually surveying the gym to see who’s present, his eyes landing on a woman in particular who catches his interest almost instantaneously.

“Well, who do we have here?” Austin is confused initially, Grayson motioning across the way to where Solana completes her cooldown with Naomi.

Immediately, Austin scoffs. “Since when does this place offer a weight watchers class?”

Chuckling, Grayson still pushes back. “Hers is in the right places though, mate,” Grayson again advises Austin to watch Solana as she happens to be leaning back, palms flat on the ground making her top hug against her chest.

Austin makes a face. “Decent.”

“Who is she?” Grayson asks again as Austin notices a semi-familiar face walking nearby.

“Melo.”

Carmelo shifts his Beats headphones so they’re no longer covering his ears. “Whassup?”

Austin subtly gestures to Solana, asking, “who is that?”

Carmelo follows the line of vision and almost immediately snatches his eyes back to the duo. “Yo. You fuckin’ crazy?”

“What?”

Carmelo repeats himself, a sense of urgency in his voice. “Do you know who that is?”

“Pretty sure that’s what we just fucking asked you, dumbass,” Austin slaps him upside the head. “Now who is she?”

“Solana Miller. Well, Solana Reigns now, I guess.” Carmelo lowers his voice, as if speaking too loudly will attract too much attention. And he’s not entirely wrong. “Roman’s wife.”

Grayson makes a face, looking between Carmelo and Austin for elaboration. “Reigns got married? Bullshit. That bloke is the last man to ever walk down the aisle.”

“You two would do well getting your head from up your asses every once in a while. It’s a recent thing, but still a thing. So unless you want your insides literally ripped from out of you, it’d be best to leave her the fuck alone.”

Austin, the most smug of the two, is the first to protest. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those. Everyone makes Roman out to be this big bad who can’t be touched. He defends, what, once every six months?” Austin scoffs. The fear that the “Head of the Table” seems to have over everyone has never made sense to him. Sure, he’s heard things, even seen some things, but that’s always been because Roman called the shot. He’s not the one actually taking or making them. “Everyone knows he has his heron boys do his dirty work for him.”

“Plus, isn’t the guy pushing 40? What the fuck is he going to do?” Grayson laughs.

“Break his fucking hip trying to chase us.”

Carmelo shakes his head as the two dipshits laugh at their unfunny humor. “I’m telling ya’ll. Messing with her is a death wish. Plus, I heard she’s not even like that. That’s she’s like….shy and shit.”

If intended to ward the two off, it does the complete opposite. Theory smirks. “Those are always the freakiest.”

Carmelo backs away, lifting his hand in a surrender motion. “Can’t say I ain’t warn you. Dig your own graves.” With zero interest in having any part of what these two are clearly planning, Carmelo puts his headphones back over his ears and jogs off to start his training.

And it’s a wise decision as Austin and Grayson, forever the patient predators stalking their prey wait for Naomi to walk off, time it well so that there’s an appropriate enough time for Solana to walk off to the showers, get clean, and walk out at the same time they happen to be lurking in the halls that lead to the locker rooms.

That’s exactly how it plays out too, Solana looking down in her bag to grab her phone and text Solo that she’s done and ready to leave when a voice nearly knocks the wind out of her.

“Hi there.”

Solana gasps as loud as the sound of her back colliding with the brick wall behind her from how startled she is.

Instantly, she’s met with a set of cold blue eyes and wicked smile. “Solana, right?”

Breathing feels like it’s an optional thing, her hands still gripping the brick wall behind her. She can only nod her answer.

“Austin.” He then nods to the other man that Solana realizes is leaning back against the wall opposite her. The anxiety intensifies. “This is my buddy, Grayson. You must be new around here?”

Solana doesn’t want to speak, doesn't want to be near these two who have her practically cornered. But, she also doesn’t want to piss them off either. “Y—yeah.”

Austin’s eyes twinkle with nothing that seems good. “You really are shy, huh?”

“They make the best.” Grayson comments from his propped up position. Solana doesn’t allow herself to think too much about what he’s implying. She just wants to get the hell away from them. One look, and she knows they’re up to no good.

It makes her sick to her stomach.

The idea of walking past these two brings a visceral, physical response that has her mouth watering. She feels like she’s going to throw up, but she also knows she needs to get the hell away from them. “I—I have to go.” From where the next thing to come out her mouth stems from, she doesn’t know, but it’s blurted with all the nerves in her body. “R-Roman is waiting for me.”

He’s not. She actually has no idea where he is, but there’s a part of her that wonders if reminding them of who she is, who her husband is will make them back off.

“Of course,” the one with an accent speaks, motioning with his arm for her to leave. “Don’t want to keep the Chief waiting.”

The mockery in his tone unease her even more. Does he not realize just who Roman is? What he’s capable of.

Regardless, the second Austin backs away a bit, she’s darting through the hall, trying to put as much distance between herself and the two men, but she’s not far enough to miss the ominous departing statement from Austin.

“See you around, Solana.”

Something tells her this won’t be the last time she runs into them, and it leaves a deep, disturbing feeling in the pit of her stomach.

This isn’t good.

It’s not good at all.

————

Dear Mom,

I’m still alive.

That’s a good thing, I guess. Life with Roman has been….a strange experience. The most important thing is that he hasn’t hit me yet, but I’ve been trying really hard not to upset him or get on his bad side. I do my best to make sure all of his meals are ready and on time, which I guess helps.

But to be honest……he kinda confuses me.

He hasn’t been unkind, and I don’t think I’ve ever experienced him really yelling at me. Not like I’ve seen him yell and scream at others. So, that’s also good. It’s a bit of walking on eggshells, just waiting for him to snap and hit me, but not as much as I was thinking.

I don’t know….it hasn’t been as bad here as I thought it would be. For the most part, he just leaves me alone. We don’t even eat dinner together, which is fine, cause I can’t see why he’d want to spend time with me anyway.

But, he confuses me because it feels like sometimes he’s defending me or something, which doesn’t make sense because why would he do that? That would mean he has to care to some extent, right? I keep trying to remind myself that it’s probably not me he’s defending but his pride and standing, because I think being mean or disrespecting me is like disrespecting him? I’m not sure, but it’s definitely a new experience.

I haven't spoken to or heard from Wes and dad. Roman made me get a new phone with a new number that I’m not sure either of them have. I don’t know if I want to think too much about how bad it’s going to be when I finally do see them again…..

Wes made it clear I was supposed to be keeping in contact with them, but that hasn’t happened. Truth be told, I try not to think about that. Think about the fact that I’m somehow supposed be figuring out a way to…..to kill Roman. I could never do that. I could never kill anyone. You know that, mama.

Even more….I feel like Roman is growing on me, like maybe he’s not as bad as I thought, like maybe there’s more to him than meets the eye.

I think….I think that I could learn to like living here.

—------

“WarGames?”

To Solana, it’s a simple question, because it’s definitely not an everyday term. But that’s clearly not the case given the startled expressions on both Bayley and Naomi’s face.

It’s becoming something she is slowly starting to enjoy. Not necessarily the training part, but the socialization. It’s something Solana has been deeply deprived of over the years, so to have someone to talk to, someone who wants to talk to her means a lot.

Even if it’s technically a job she was assigned by Roman, Naomi has never made her feel like their interactions are forced.

Moreover, it was just in last week’s training session, Solana was thoroughly and pleasantly surprised to find out Bayley is also a member of the Warehouse and friends with Naomi, that reunion almost giving Solana a sense of giddiness.

She’s wanted to reach out since the wedding but never followed through based upon her fear that she’d be bothering Bayley.

Clearly, that’s not the case.

Solana is certain she’ll never forget Bayley’s kindness on a day where she really needed to believe in something, believe that there is always at least one reason to keep breathing, to be alive.

But, it’s when Solana asks about this topic Naomi and Bayley were discussing that attracts confounded expressions.

“You’re kidding right?” Bayley is the first to speak, glancing between herself and Naomi. “He didn’t tell you?”

Still confused, Solana presses, “tell me what?”

“I’m not surprised Roman didn’t, but someone definitely should have.” Naomi shakes her head, shifting into an explanation.. “War Games. It’s an annual match. Super big deal. It’s a show of strength and dominance for the Bloodline. Kinda hard to explain. You’ll just have to see for yourself.”

It sounds….intense. “I—I don’t think I’m invited.”

“Your hubby has clearly been a bachelor for way too long for him to realize that he has to tell you these things.” Bayley rolls her eyes but protests Solana’s belief that she would somehow not be invited to one of the Bloodline’s most important yearly events. “You’re definitely invited. As Roman’s wife, you have to be there. It would be seen as a sign of great disrespect to him if you didn’t.””

Disrespecting Roman…..never a good idea.

“When is it?”

Naomi seems to hesitate before answering. “Tomorrow night” And before Solana can panic at such short notice, Naomis is reassuring her that it will all work out. “Don’t worry. Bay and I will help you get ready.”

“Hell yeah.” Bayley already goes into strategizing mode. “I’ll handle your hair and makeup, and Naomi can find you a kickass dress.”

“Red, of course. That’s the only non-negotiable. Bloodline thing, ya know.” Solana figured as such. She also briefly wonders if that’s why Roman has been coming back home late the past few weeks, because he’s been training? “But, I will say we usually dress….well, like we’re going clubbing for these kinds of events, so it’s gonna be short, tight, and a tad bit revealing.”

That is something that gives Solana pause. None of those things scream appealing to her at all. She doesn’t have the body to dress like that. Not with the rolls, stretch marks, and scars that mar hers.

“I—I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she finds it in herself to voice her opinion. A rarity. “I don’t—I don’t think I’d look good in something like that.”

Both Bayley and Naomi cast her confused expressions, Naomi being the first to speak.

“Why?” Naomi presses, gesturing up and down. “Girl, you have a nice ass shape. You would fill out a bodycon dress nicely.”

Solana has a hard time digesting what Naomi is saying. She would look great in a dress like that. Naomi is both fit and curvy, the perfect amount of curves in the right places without unnecessary fat. Same for Bayley.

For Solana, the less skin she’s showing the better, though she wonders if the kind of attire they’re describing is some type of dress code, meaning there is no room to protest.

The last thing she wants is for it to get back to Roman that she’s being “difficult.”

Defeated, she murmurs an ‘okay’ as the two of them engage in more conversation about this WarGames as well as fashion options. To be fair, they try to include her in, but Solana is too into her head about what this alleged night is as well as what it could include.

—---

Naomi wasn’t lying when she said that Solana would have to see WarGames for herself to understand it. That’s the absolute truth.

It’s a spectacle, to say the least.

For one, it’s a ton of people packed around the ring, the massive room where fights take place. The noise is boisterous, almost deafening, people drunk, swearing, placing bets, most of which are on the Bloodline.

And thankfully, Solana and Co. are seated in the upper area, a VIP box of sorts, away from the unruly crowd. She’s thankful for this for a lot of reasons, one of the biggest being the fact that she feels extremely uncomfortable in her dress. And just in general, but mostly with how much scarred skin is showing.

The dress is exactly as Naomi said it would be: short, red, and a bit revealing. Thankfully Naomi picked out a dress with a halter neckline that prevents any cleavage from showing, but there’s a split high up on the thigh that she finds herself trying to constantly adjust.

“You look great, Solana.” Bayley wears that same friendly, encouraging smile from Solana’s wedding day. “And I get that you’re self-conscious about your body, but I can guarantee these men would line up by the dozen for a chance to go home with you if not for your psycho-killer husband.”

Bayley playfully nudges her shoulder, and while Solana can emit a chuckle, she can’t bring herself to laugh. That line of men would be just as disappointed as she’s sure her psycho-killer husband was on their wedding night.

But, this isn’t the time and place for that.

“You look nice,” Solana compliments, partially a deflection technique but mostly the truth. Bayley, Naomi, and Nicki, who she met earlier that night and learned was Jey’s wife, all look exceptional in their numbers. Bayley is the only one not wearing red, for obvious reasons, but the jade green compliments her complexion well.

“We all look nice,” she says loud enough for the other two to hear.

Nicki opens her mouth to respond when the lights in the arena start to shift. “Ugh. This bitch again.” Nicki’s scowl and expression of irritation draws Solana’s attention to the woman in the ring, who now has the spotlight on her, a woman she immediately recognizes as being there that night Roman woke her up from a nightmare.

The woman is tall, curvy in the right places, beautiful, bouncy curls cascading down her back. If she has a lot of makeup on, Solana can’t tell because it’s painfully obvious she’s been blessed with natural beauty. Everything about her is just so gorgeous.

At the time, she didn’t think anything of it, too caught in the haze of trauma. But now, curious and believing she can receive an answer, Solana asks, “who is she?”

“The most annoying person ever,” Nicki answers, taking a swig of her drink. In only knowing Nicki for less than an hour, Solana both does and doesn’t understand the compatibility between herself and Jey. They seem very much alike yet dissimilar. It makes sense why they fight as much as they do.

“That’s Samantha.” There’s no way to misinterpret the disgust in Nicki’s voice even as she pronounces Samantha’s name with undeniable distaste. “She does the announcements for events, but her daytime job is being a professional hooker.”

“Nicki!” Naomi shakes her head. “I think she’s a paralegal for a lawyer or something, but she’s mostly known as a pain in everyone’s ass. Always has been. Ever since we were in high school. She thinks because she’s light skinned with ‘good hair’ that she’s better than everybody.”

“Don’t forget about Roman,” Nicki chimes with her nose upturned. “She really thinks she’s hot shit though because she’s number one on his ‘I want my dick sucked’ list.”

This causes Solana to pause for a second. “What?”

She’s not stupid. Why else would this Samantha have been over at the house that late at night? And with Roman? Solana figured early on that if he isn’t getting any from her, then he has to be getting it from somewhere. Truthfully, even if their marriage did involve sex, she’s not sure he still wouldn’t find his way in between the legs of another woman.

But, there’s something about having it confirmed, hearing for herself that he gets around, that he clearly has a high sex drive that adds a whole new layer of insecurity.

She’s known from day one she could never be anyone he wanted or needed, and he expressed as such that day at the library, but this conversation makes it feel more…..real.

And she’s unsure why or just what makes this bring on a sense of sadness.

“Come on, I get you’re quiet and innocent and shit, but everyone knows that man is a hoe. If you’re black or black–ish with a vagina, fat ass, and big titties, he’ll fuck you. Cause none of them fools fuck with white girls.” She glances at Bayley, almost sympathetically. “No offense.”

“I’m Mexican.”

This serves as a brief, nice distraction for Solana. She suspected that Bayley wasn’t entirely white, but hearing that she’s Hispanic, Mexican, makes Solana feel a small slice of excitement. She makes a mental note to ask her if she speaks Spanish.

Solana hasn’t been able to communicate in the language her mother made sure to teach her in secret given Xavier’s protest since her murder. So, the idea of being able to communicate with another person in that language makes her feel a bit excited. Maybe more than a bit.

Nicki is dismissive, though there’s a hint of humor there. Like she knows and is just messing with the other woman. “Sure you are, Bay.”

Bayley rolls her eyes and assures Solana. “Don’t listen to her.”

“Ya’ll, don’t lie to this girl.” Nicki seems dead set on stressing this point, and Solana can’t figure out if it comes from a good place, a drunk place, or somewhere in between the two of them. “If it wasn’t common knowledge he don’t fuck none of these bitches raw and makes most get on birth control, I’d tell you to not let that fool touch you with a ten foot pole.”

Bayley is watching Solana, sees the discomfort growing at this conversation and moves to change the conversation. “Why don’t we talk about you and Jey and why I literally saw him flirting with Sasha the other day?”

At that, Nicki drops her drink, cussing loudly, “man, fuck him! I don’t give a fuck about him or that bony heifer! I’ll beat the shit out both of them.”

“Nicki. Shut the fuck up. You may beat her ass, but you gon be right back to drunk spilling about how good Jey’s dick is when it’s all said and done.” Naomi dismisses, and something tells Solana she’s not wrong. Nicki and Jey seem to have a bit of a…..tumultuous relationship.

“I mean it this time!”

“Uh huh, sure sis.”

“And if you don’t give a fuck about him, why are you here?” Naomi challenges.

All eyes on her, even Solana’s slightly curious gaze, Nicki falls back in her chair and mumbles, “cause that’s my man.”

Naomi and Bayley are a chorus of laughter and whooping and hollering, roasting Nicki for her contradictory statements.

Flashing blue lights illuminate the arena as everyone immediately moves to their feet followed by opening music that almost instantly brings chills up Solana’s arms. The lights then transition to a combination of red and blue, the sound of cheering intensifying as she redirects her focus back to where the first group entered.

Solana’s eyes instantly, maybe even naturally, land on Roman. He stands first among the men, shirtless, ula fala around his neck, championship belt around his waist, a look of fierce determination and stoicism painted across his handsome face.

And that body…..rippling muscles glistening under the heat of the lights.

It’s a strange and miserable experience. Feeling all of the sensations and attractions a human typically has to another human being but having an almost inability to act on them. It’s not that Solana isn’t attracted to Roman. She finds him to be sinfully attractive. The issue is that whenever she thinks about what physical acts take place when two people find each other attractive is when her head is swarmed with vivid memories and flashbacks of being violated in the worst way possible.

And the attraction is stumped by fear and trauma. Fear of being touched. Fear of being with anyone in that way.

It’s like Roman said. He can get that from anyone, so why would he bother with her?

When he has someone like Samantha, prettier, smaller, easier, at his disposal?

It brings a wave of sadness over her that she’s grateful isn’t noticed by the other ladies who are focused on the start of the match.

And to her credit, Solana tries to pay attention, grateful and thankful for Naomi and Bayley occasionally pointing out certain aspects of how it works, why the two groups are separated, individual members from each side periodically being sent into the line of fire.

“Roman always goes last,” Naomi explains at one point.

“Save the best for last type shit,” Bayley adds, finishing off her beer and asking for another.

“More like once he gets his ass in there, it’s a wrap. Everyone left getting smashed.” Solana believes this wholeheartedly. She’s just not sure if she wants to see that, see that side of him up close.

It exists, obviously, but it’s hard to compare the killer she knows he is to the man he’s been to in the short duration of their marriage.

Almost….almost kind.

The fighting, brutal and bloody, all occurs in the ring, but Solana constantly finds her gaze falling back to Roman. He remains seated, patiently or maybe impatiently waiting for his turn, never once ripping his gaze from the match. She sees Paul outside the cage, occasionally speaking to Roman, advising as he always does.

Solana can tell he’s completely immersed, focusing solely on the match before him.

And it’s when there’s some type of in-ring argument between the twins and the other member-in-training of sorts, Sami, she thinks Naomi called him, that she turns to the ladies. “What are they doing?”

“Sealing a death wish,” Nicki answers with a shake of her head. “Roman gon’ have all they asses for this.”

Naomi sighs loudly, advising Solana after the bickering results in one of the men from the other group getting the upper hand, landing a particularly brutal looking kick to Jey. “There’s been some….contention between Sami and the twins, mostly Jey, but Nicki isn’t entirely wrong. They should know better than to let that shit interfere with a match. Roman will most likely make them stay after and……yeah.”

Solana doesn’t need a detailed explanation. She has a good idea of what Roman making them pay will look like. It’s also not something she wants to see.

The match, in and of itself, despite the excitement and pure interest of everyone around her, isn’t necessarily something she wants to see. Solana has seen, been exposed, and experienced enough fighting violence to last her a lifetime.

This is entertainment to them, but for her, it’s been her lived experience.

So, she doesn’t feel any sort of adrenaline rush watching grown men beat the crap out of each other, blood, sweat, and bruised, battered bodies putting themselves through hell. It gives her some relief to see that the Bloodline, for the most part, remains with the upperhand. Even with their in-house argument earlier in the fight.

But, it’s when the timer that ends with another man joining the brawl moves to a ten second countdown that her interest grows a bit more. It grows a bit because Roman is finally about to enter the ring.

She watches him, has mostly just watched him this entire time. He’s just as unbothered as he was the minute he walked in. Adjusting his gloves while Paul clearly tries to bestow some last minute wisdom before he makes his entrance.

It feels a bit redundant. She’s certain this man doesn’t need anyone helping him with anything.

And as soon as the timer winds down to zero, Roman gradually making his way to the ring, Solana knows she was right. Knows he doesn’t need help, because he’s been studying and planning for the past almost 45 minutes. Strategizing.

It shows the minute the men, all 10 of them go at it. It’s hard to keep track of all of the mayhem, fists flying, kicks landing in areas that are sure to require a couple days to recover. But, it’s Roman who still manages to catch and hold Solana’s attention. He moves with such precision and accuracy, blows every bit as barbarous and violent as his reputation warrants.

There’s a small part of her that experiences something she can’t quite label or understand when he takes a hit, especially when a member of the other team manages to catch Roman off guard, sending him into the table, the weight of him snapping it in half.

At that, she nervously starts to move her fingers up and down the side of her dress. But, Roman, while clearly impacted from the blow by the blood starting to stream down the back of his arm only seems further enraged. Like being attacked has somehow refueled him, recharged his already pre-existing rage.

“They are in trouble now….” Naomi murmurs, shaking her head, as if she knows what’s about to come. “Roman hates getting hit, and they made him bleed too?”

It’s the blood part, maybe, that bothers Solana. It’s silly given who he is and the fact that he’s clearly holding his own just fine, but Solana wonders why he doesn’t or can’t have that tended to. It has to hurt.

But, then again, it all hurts, so maybe the pain just numbs itself out.

And maybe Roman is clearly caught up and consumed in adrenaline, in the mad rush of the battle, because it seems from the table slam on out, no one is touching him. He’s all over the place, strong blows resulting in grown men crying out in pain. She’s certain those closer to the actual ring can hear the sound of bones crunching, an inevitable thing given the abnormal distortion of limbs she sees on the other team.

He yells and taunts his opponents, one by one, laying them out with the somewhat assistance of the rest of the men. Truth be told, Roman could have probably tagged out the other four men and handled the other team all on his own.

He’s just that effective.

And when there’s only one man standing, barely, Roman moves to the other side of the ring, face turned up in rage, watching and waiting for the perfect moment for him to dart across, laughing into a spear so forceful that it knocks the man unconscious instantly, guaranteeing an instant, easy pin.

The crowd erupts in cheers, Roman’s music sounding as Samantha formally announces the Bloodline as the winners.

There’s a strange sense of relief that Solana has at that, at the fact that this is all over, that the fighting is done. That Roman is done, because her mind keeps going toward the fact that he probably needs some level of medical attention and when said attention is going to happen.

But while she expects the Bloodline to start their exit, she’s instead met with security dragging the unconscious bodies of the losing team outside of the ring.

“What’s happening?” Solana asks Bayley, realizing that the women are starting to pack up to head out. “Isn’t—isn’t it over?”

“For us, yes.” Her eyes set on the twins, Solo, and Sami. “For them, it’s just beginning.” Solana reflects back on their in-ring argument and Naomi’s foreshadowing about this happening, about this punishment.

And one glance at Roman, his hulking shoulders lifting and lowering with his heavy panting. His eyes are flaming with a fury he clearly intends to take out on his team.

“Come on.” Naomi draws Solana’s attention. “I’ll ride home with you, cause Solo ain’t gon be free no time soon.”

None of them will.

Solana recognizes this and agrees, but it’s not without a sense of disappointment at not leaving with Roman.

And that confuses her. It confuses her a lot.

She didn’t arrive with him, so why would she leave with him?

More importantly, why does she care that she’s not leaving with him?

—----------

“I–I can do that for you.”

There are some things meant to be thought and some things meant to be said. This is one of those things that should have stayed in Solana’s head instead of rolling off her tongue the way it does.

She was only supposed to ask him if he wanted her to make anything in particular for breakfast tomorrow, not offer to freaking suture stitches for him.

Well, that’s not entirely true, because as it’s almost damn midnight, she could and should at least be in bed trying to sleep. She’s been home for almost two hours, showered, changed into her oversized shirt and sweats.

She shouldn’t even be standing before him, but there was some type of unease she had at trying to fall asleep without making sure he made it home, without seeing to it that he tended to any injuries he sustained tonight.

Solana almost feels like that’s what she should do, like she should make sure she’s available to assist him with anything he may need. Like it’s just another thing that could keep him from directing his anger from earlier towards her.

And it’s slightly less stressful for her in knowing that he’s more likely to harshly dismiss her, maybe even chastise her for unintentionally implying he’s somehow incapable. However, instead of a rebuff, he simply looks at her, asking, “you know how?”

Solana doesn’t know why, but she takes this as a sign that he’s accepting her offer. Walking over to where he sits at the kitchen island, she sees he already has the supplies laid out. “I—I’ve had a lot of experience.”

Some of it from patching up her dad and brother but most of it from patching up herself over the years, from watching and learning from her mother tend to her wounds after sustaining beatings from Xavier. “My mom was also a nurse. She—she taught me a lot.” Like the proper way to suture. “Did—did you already disinfect?”

Solana is slightly nervous when he says no. That means she’s the one that’s going to have to inflict that brief but potent burning pain.

Lovely.

Nonetheless, she readies the cloth, holding it over the cut before warning, “this—this might sting.”

“I don’t care.” And she believes it. Seeing him in the ring tonight, his prowess, his brutality, she’s not sure if anything could hurt him.

Solana proceeds to clean and disinfect the area before grabbing the sutures to start stitching him back up.

Roman suddenly asks her. “Did you want to go into the medical field?” Roman recalls from the file he read on her that she never pursued any higher education beyond high school, something else he marked against her at the time. Education and knowledge have always been important to him.

But meeting her and slowly learning more about her backstory, he wonders if that was of her own choosing, hence his asking.

Solana, meanwhile, can’t figure out why he’s even talking to her in the first place. He seemed, justifiably, annoyed with and not wanting to be bothered with any and everyone post match. Now he’s asking her questions about things she hasn’t thought about in years.

Still, she answers with the truth. “I—I wanted to be a nurse. Like my mom.”

This doesn’t surprise Roman as he follows up with, “why didn’t you?”

A lot of reasons. Many of which she has very little desire to share, not that she could or would even want to ever voice as such to the man sitting in front of her.

That’d be an instant death wish.

“My—my father. He, umm, didn’t want me to leave home.” It’s a version of the truth, the unabridged version being he didn’t want her to leave home because he wouldn’t be able to control her if she did so.

And Solana has a feeling that she doesn’t need to share all that, that Roman already knows this.

“Why didn’t you just leave?” Roman’s delivery, like most of the time, is insensitive. But, he genuinely wants to know. For what reason did she stay there all those years, in a house of horrors instead of just leaving and never looking back?

It’s a fair, simple question with a complex, layered answer that she greatly simplifies.

“I tried. It—it never worked out.” And it’s when Roman hears the sudden sadness in her voice, sees the way her eyes temporarily shift to her inner forearms, horizontal faded scars that he’s just now able to see from how close she is to him that he gets it.

He realizes that she tried in more ways than one, none of them being successful.

And in a truly coincidental way, Solana notices he’s also cut on the back of his bicep. It’s also in her being so close to him that she realizes underneath the intricacies of the tribal tattoos on his forearm, there are scars. Burn scars, nothing severe, but visible enough for her to notice.

It makes her wonder about where he got them, how he got them, not that she’d ever have enough bravery to ask.

She instead clears her throat and gestures to the cut. “Do–do you want me to do that one too?”

It takes a second for Roman to think about what she’s asking. “Is it deep enough?”

Without thinking about it, she brings her hand to finger to lightly feel the cut that was clearly poorly and in a rush patched up post fight. Nodding, she explains, “it’s deeper than about 1/4th an inch, so yeah, I—you should let me.” And in realizing she’s touching him, like she isn’t doing the same thing while suturing, she snatches her hand back, apologizing quietly.

He doesn’t think he’s ever had a woman apologize for touching him.

“Okay.”

And that’s it, he doesn’t protest, doesn’t chastise her for making it seem like he doesn’t know or understand injuries. He just allows her to work on him, Solana doing her best to ignore the fact that he’s so close to her, his big, strong body, even while seated, overwhelming her.

But while this would typically cause Solana to go into panic mode, being so close to a half dressed man, she doesn’t feel that with Roman. She doesn’t feel anything at all. No anxiety, no fear, just some nameless emotion that doesn’t evoke her typical nervous responses.

“Okay.�� Finishing up, Solana moves to clean up the supplies, discarding what is no longer usable. “Just….don’t get it wet for next few hours, and apply the ointment as needed, but—I’m sure you know all this already.” She feels silly for speaking to him as if he hasn’t patched himself up or been stitched up countless time before. “I’m gonna—I’m gonna go to bed now.”

Not wanting to risk embarrassing herself further, she turns on the heel of her foot and starts walking off, only to stop when he calls for her.

“Solana.”

She turns around, and Roman is briefly caught up in how she presses her lips together, trying to suppress a frown. She thinks she’s done something wrong.

One more sweep of her frame from bottom to top, remembering the stunning complement and contrast of the red dress against her complexion. He compliments, “you looked beautiful tonight.”

She looks absolutely taken back by what is an obvious statement. Taken back and confused. “M—me?” She’s pointing to herself, brows arching together. And for a second, there’s a small hint of a growing smile as she asks, as if he could have made a mistake. “Really?”

He didn’t.

Roman doesn’t make mistakes

Solana has a lot of things fucked up about her, but one thing not a damn person can deny is that she’s absolutely gorgeous with a body to match. That’s just a fact, why he felt the need to express said fact is a bit beyond him, but Roman doesn’t allow himself to think too much about it. It’s not a sentimental thing at all, just a plain fact being stated, if anything.

“Thank you,” she finally says as he notices the reddening of her cheeks. “Umm, good night.” Solana’s hand is on the banister, her finger squeezing tighter than the coils in her stomach. “Roman?”

It would be a hell of a lot easier if he would have just ignored her, but he doesn’t. His gaze snaps up to her from the phone now in his hand.

The same hand she witnessed just tonight pummel grown men, just as muscular and intimidating as he is to a bloody pulp. The same hand that could easily take her life, could have her clinging onto life with just one beating. And that’s all she can see at the thought of telling him about Grayson and Theory messing with her, that it’s now happened twice, they’ve caught her off guard and alone, sexually harassing her.

Nia’s words from the other day return to the front of her mind.

“He wants you to stop being so weak.”

He’ll blame her. He’ll blame her the same way her father blamed her for what they did to her. He’ll blame her for being so weak. That’s what Solana knows will happen. Knows he’ll say she was leading them on, that she must have done something to garner their interest in her. And he’ll be angry.

He’ll be angry at her.

And nothing good ever comes out of Roman Reigns being angry.

She’s seen it for herself firsthand tonight.

Determine to find a way to deal with this on her own, she shakes her head, “nothing. S–sorry.” She’s turned back to the steps when he says her name this time. His tone clear and authoritative.

She jumps, immediately turning back around to face him. He’s now standing near the steps where she stands, halfway between rescue and ridicule.

Something flashes in his gaze at her obvious nervousness, but he quickly refocuses on the topic at hand. “You have something to say, so say it.”

A deep layer of regret and anxiety settles in at the realization that there is no lying to Roman. He’s adroitly skilled in reading between the lines and seeing through bullshit. Or maybe she’s just that bad at lying.

Hopefully not the latter because another lie is about to roll right out.

“I was just—I was gonna sleep in tomorrow, but I have to make your breakfast, so I’ll just—”

“You don’t have to do anything, Solana.”

Roman knows she’s lying. Knows she just pulled that out of her ass instead of sharing whatever it is she initially wanted to say. It’s probably something stupid too, something he won’t give two shits about, but something she thinks he gives two shits about. And he’d push her if not for the fact he can tell she’s getting all nervous and shit on him again. The last thing he needs is her having another panic attack.

“Sleep in,” he directs. This is a conversation, much to his chagrin, that will have to take part in sections. And it’s too late in the evening to hash out one of those sections. And to be fair, there is a part of him that recognizes she probably does feel like she needs to be up at the ass crack of dawn like him to have his first meal of the day ready to go. And his lunch. And his dinner.

Granted, Roman can’t and won’t complain about all of it, because the girl can cook her ass off.

But, it’s not necessary.

He’s more than capable of taking care of himself.

He’s done so since he was 10 years old.

“Thank you.” She does that thing again where she smiles like he’s just told her she’s won the lottery or been given the cure to world hunger. It’s the simplest things that seem to make her happy. Considering the bar has already been set so low, it makes a bit of sense.

It makes a lot of sense.

“Goodnight.”

Roman is certain she’s intentional in the way she turns on the heel of her foot to move up the stairs, putting as much distance between the two of them to avoid a follow up question. Her avoidance behavior is a bit impressive, irksome, but still impressive, nonetheless.

And it would be remiss of Roman to not sneak a peak of her retreating form moving up the steps, his eyes glued to the sway of her ass, again remembering that short, red dress that momentarily distracted him when he laid eyes on her at the match.

Roman would never deny his physical attraction to her. That’s just a fact. She’s shaped in a way that makes his dick hard at the thought of having that body underneath his, writhing, begging for him to not stop fucking her in all the ways he would if he could.

But, that’s a fantasy. It’s a fantasy because the reality is that he can’t even touch this girl without her freaking out on him, something that would annoy him greatly if he didn’t realize there’s a reason behind her jumpiness.

Something that’s beyond just her shitty father and brother.

Roman doesn’t allow himself to travel down that path, to see what it might lead to because just the thought of what might be the reason she doesn’t like being touched has his fist forming at his side, nostrils flared, and anger brewing at an accelerated pace that doesn’t make sense.

It also doesn’t make sense when he grabs his phone, navigating to the desired thread, sending a text he doesn’t think much about.

Roman: Get me a list of dog breeders. Small dogs. Preferably local. We can travel if necessary.

Paul: Sir?

Roman: Just do it.

Paul: I’ll have it to you by tomorrow morning.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #roman reigns x black!reader #arisnotebook

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writingoddess1125 · 1 year ago

Note

Poly or just 3 some vibe swith shanks and Mihawk?? I just feel that power imbalance would be addictiveee

Oh This is what I live for Love! You got it!

MWAHAHAHAHHAHAH

Shanks X young!Reader(mid 20's) X Mihawk

Warning: Sexual Themes, Threesome vibes, Sex, Unprotected sex, Eiffel Tower ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Tag You're It

You stood there at the bar looking at your few regulars as you spaced out. It was a slow night, almost like every night. Your village was too small and too secluded to get any real traffic. If it wasn't for a few months ago it would have closed- not for a certain pirate crew then it would have defiently closed their doors.

Speaking of which- the door busted open with a fairly dramatic flare. As if summoned by your thoughts there stood the entirety of the Red Haired Pirates, cheeks already flushes with alcohol it seemed.

"Good Evening Mr. Shanks! Glad to see you back" You smile cheerfully at him, He would often come to the bar when he ran out of his monthly supply on his Island next door. Him and his crew were very nice, paired with the fact they always payed very well.

"Good Evening to you (Y/N)! Please bring out the best you have little one! It's a celebration!" It was no secret that Shanks had been eyeing you for the months he had been stopping by, How his eyes would linger on your form a bit more then most- How his gaze would track you as you moved through the bar.

"A celebration?" You asked innocently as he held up a wanted poster proudly. A dark brooding figure Stepping in behind him, looking a bit irritated to he there, even as his gaze settled on you.

"Yep! My Lad Luffy got his first bounty and is now a Pirate! Paired with my good Pal here Mihawk is here for a visit!"

"Well in that case I'll pull out the best!" You said cheerfully waving at your co-workers to bring our the large crates of rum and ale for them.

As the liquor was poured you saw Shanks and Mihawk quietly talking- Their eyes locked onto you as they stared at you, watching every move you did. Which made your cheeks heat up dramatically. After a few moments of this and the bar coming to life with loud music you ended up grabbing a drink as well.

This seemed to drawn Mihawk over, his form shadowing yours. "Is it wise for you to drink?" He cautioned a brow, making you feel a bit flustered by both his accent and eyes.

"It's fine, it's not like anyone here would hurt me" You say softly, Waving your hand dismissively. His lips curving to a slight smirk at this-

"I don't think hurting you is what they would have in mind" Oh your face was bright red now- especially with the purr in his tone and look in his eye-

"W-Well if they asked I wouldn't be opposed I'm sure-" You manage to squeak out, drawing his gaze in. Before he gestured you to follow him, which you obediently did. Returning to his seat next to Shanks he pulled you to his lap which made your face crimson- The red head smiling at the sight.

"Didn't know all I had to do was smile to bring you over finally" He teased, Gesturing to yourself seated on his peers lap. You took another sip of your drink and shyly shrugged

"As I say, ask and you shall receive Shanks. Number one rule here" You quip back which earns a noise from Mihawk- seemingly a chuckle.

"Well if that's the case. Me and my friend here, both would love to take you out for the evening, to get to know you better. But you'd have to choose my dear"

"I-I wouldn't be able to choose-" You admit shyly, Looking between the two of you. Shanks laughing loudly at this as he bit his lip.

"What about both of us?" He chimed, something in his eyes made tour stomach warm. Maybe it was the underlying danger or the arousal but yoh nodded.

"Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt- It's a celebration afterall" You blushed, drinking more of the rum in your glass. The alcohol making your head buzz and warmth filled your body.

Mihawk squeezed your thigh as you were still seated on his lap.

"Deplorable as usual-" Mihawk grumbled, but his gaze did fall to you as you sat there blushing in-between the two men. His golden eyes practically staring through your soul, reaching forward and taking a peice of your hair in his hands and messing with it- Like he was trying to decide to go through with it. Once your big beautiful eyes settled on his, he sighed almost defeatedly.

"But I suppose a bit of sharing wouldn't be the worse" He said softly. Shanks smiling widely as he heard this and gave a proud laugh. Patting Mihawk shoulder in joy.

Shanks was the first to stand, pulling you up to your feet. Mihawks hand on the small of your back and lead you out of the bar and towards the inn. Mihawk tossing down some berry and guided you up to the given room.

Author Note!: ⚠️ Final Warning ⚠️ Once you go past this line. THERE IS NO RETURN! ITS ABOUT TO GET INFERNO SPICY- 18+ ultra mature!

Shanks and Mihawk stood on either side of you. Shanks was the first one to kiss you, it was gentle at first sweet even. It wasn't till you felt a tug on your blouse that the sweet kiss was broke, feeling him pull off your blouse as you felt your pants fall down to the floor. Realizing Mihawk had taken the time to undo them, along with your bra as Shanks smiled and pulled down your underwear. Blushing you felt a push as you fell onto the bed behind you.

You were laid there on the soft comforters of the local Inns bed, Blushing as the warm lights of the lanterns barely lit the room. But you could make out the two men staring at you like you were fresh prey infront of two hungry carnivores.

"How shall we go about this Hawkeye? Maybe a good game of tag?" Shanks said with a wicked smiled, Mihawk smirking as his gaze never left you and nodded.

Mihawk too the left while Shanks moved forward climbing into the bed with a grin as he found himself between your legs.

"He can't help but put everything in his mouth Darling" Mihawk said calmly playing with your hair as you moaned helplessly against his chest, Watching your face contort and shift from Shanks pleasurable torture. You could feel Shanks smirk between your legs as his mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked hard, crying out in pleasure as Mihawk captured your lips in a deep kiss. Wine filled your senses as you accepted the kiss, feeling him hungry mouth dominate your own.

Pulling away as Shanks pulled your hips with his arm, bringing your core closer as he seemed too lost in his meal to be concerned with the lost kiss between you and Hawkeye-

At being pulled down your face sliding down Mihawk's chest and to his waist, Blushing deeply as you laid infront of the Warlords tending pants. Mihawk smirking at your reaction as he gestured for you to proceed, not needing a cue you carefully undid his pants. Blushing as his large cock bounces out enthusiastically- opening your lips you took all of him in, Blushing at the feeling as he groaned above you.

You moaned as you bobbed your head up and down, the feeling of Shanks driving you to your upcoming orgasm, your legs starting to shake at Shanks talented mouth before he suddently pulled away. Chuckling at the whine you gave at the sensation even while Mihawk chuckled at you as well.

"Don't worry love~ I got something better~" You heard Shanks say sweetly. A shuffling of fallen clothes fell behind you as you felt Shanks hand rest on your hip and pulling you up to your knees while you chest still laid on the mattress before Mihawk.

Your thighs shake as you felt every inch of him slide into you, combined with still too high from his mouth earlier was just enough to cum right as he bottomed out. Moaning loudly against Mihawk cock and shaking.

"Aww~ She came just from me entering. So cute~" the Red head teased, making Mihawk even chuckle. Without time to even settle through your bliss you felt Ahanks hips start to move. Like a tidal wave, the shocked of ecstacy rushed through your body.

Shank hips started to sputter against you, still shaking from your previous orgasm that had your nerves on fire.

"You know I don't care for a mess Red Hair-" Mihawk grunted out, his pace quickening on your lips as you felt him hit the back of your throat, tears rolling down your cheeks as you felt Mihawk tughten his hold on your hair, pulling your lips as far down his member as possible as he came. Heat running down your throat as you felt Shanks pull out of you at the same time and spill on your back.

"Well done Darling~" Mihawk praised as he pulled himself from your mouth, smiling at the sight of you. Tears down your cheeks, lips red and bruised and panting. He pulled you up once more, this time placing you against Shanks chest.

"Very nicely done~" Shanks purred out, praising you for your skills. You only gave a bubbling moan at the sweet praise and Mihawk hands kneading your chest, drawing out moans sweet moans from you. Feeling Mihawk place kisses down your neck in reward for your moans.

"Think you can last one more round for us Sweetheart?~" Shanks sweetly asked, nodding softly even if you mind was fuzzy from your pleasure.

It felt like a blur but suddently you where on your back, Mihawk in turn sliding into you. Your back arching at the sensation as you gasped, he was bigger- Somehow or it was just how sensitive you were. As you laid there gasping you felt Shank touch your shoulder looking up as you saw his already hardened member before your lips, accepting him you felt him thrust into your mouth.

You felt your body bounce with each powerful thrust, sending Shank's cock deeper past your bruised lips. Another hard orgasm already building in your stomach as you felt Mihawk's relentless hips slam against your form,

A muffled cry left your sore throat as you felt warmth flood your mouth and core, spots scattered in your vision as you heard the muffled pants and groans of the two above you.

Mihawk was the first to pull out of you, his large hands securing you as Shanks did the same making cold air filling your lungs. Both men working gently to clean you up, whispering praise at you as they did so. Mihawk laying you down first on the cleanest part of the bed and covering your tired form in a blanket. You felt your eyes close, too tired to open them again as sleep was already starting to take over your form.

"We must share her once again" Shanks whispered, pushing some of your hair from your face. Carefully holding your waist with his hand. You could feel Mihawk nod in agreement as he settled you on his broad chest.

"I can't disagree with that" Mihawk whispered before sleep finally claimed you.

#x reader #one peice x reader #one peice live action #one piece #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader #shanks x reader #one piece shanks #shanks one piece #dracule mihawk #op mihawk

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sanjisboyfie · 1 year ago

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rockstar ! trafalgar law headcanons

trafalgar law x male reader ; he might seem ooc but he isn't, trust me. this is how law is supposed to be perceived, i talked to oda himself and sorted this all out with him before publishing.

-> listened to brooklyn baby by lana while writing this...hehehehheheehhehehehehe ps. i think that is my favorite photo of manga law ever oh my fuking godhes so hot.

rockstar ! law . . . did not get famous overnight, but also did not get famous on purpose...if that makes sense. like his ass was up posting his guitar covers on youtube for years before someone reached out to him on joining a proper band. but also he wasn't posting those guitar covers with the intent of getting noticed. he just wanted people to see how SICK he was on guitar (he's a not-so-secret narcisst). but also another reason he posted them was because of you, his boyfriend who he had been in a relationship for a year at that point, was encouraging him to do so. your support for him and his talent was really assuring and fuelled him to be confident enough to post them online. (he was kind of against the idea at first, probably saying romantic shit like, "i want only you to hear the songs i play," but eventually was swayed when you spent many minutes convincing him to)

rockstar ! law . . . when he finally goes on tour with his band, he is pretty insistent and headstrong in allowing you to come with. he doesn't care if he needs to pay out of pocket money to fund your stay with him and his bandmates, he will if he has to. because he's not leaving you for months on end, pursuing the dream that was only possible because of how you supported him through it. there's absolutely no way he's going on tour without his boyfriend.

law's tattooed arms were crossed over his wide chest as he listened to their manager and a team of people tell him and his band about their upcoming plan for their first ever tour.

after the end, when it was about time for everything to wrap up, law calmly asked, "what about bringing significant others?" this makes the executives share looks with one another before apologetically smiling at him.

"sorry, another person added onto the travel, boarding, and all that will not be able to fit into out budg-"

"then i'm not going," law says simply, already getting ready to storm out of the room. but the manager stops him by his wrist.

"n-now, let's not get hasty! this was not something we accounted for-"

"well you should've, i'm not going anywhere without him. i'm not gonna leave him." law states stubbornly, glaring down at the man that was much shorter than him, "he's either coming with us or i'm not going at all."

a silence passed over the room and his bandmates were internally praising law for having the balls to stand up to these powerful guys so carefree like that.

maybe that's what had made him such a good rockstar.

his passions that he was not willing to back down for, he'd settle for his desires being fulfilled or nothing at all.

what they didn't know was that all of those passions were singlehandedly fuelled by his immense love for you.

"a portion of it will have to come out of your pocket, then. we really don't have the funds to bring on another person. so if you can't-"

"i can manage. if that's all, and we're all good. me and [name] will be ready by the designated time and meet you all at the location with all of our things," law easily says, walking out of the room with his broad shoulders being the last thing the executives saw.

"wow, law is so cool!" a memeber, stage-named penguin, said with stars in his eyes.

"don't get any ideas." the manager immediately cuts them off before they can gush further.

rockstar ! law . . . is very openly gay for you <3 doesn't really care that people are expecting him to act a certain way because he is a rockstar, he could care less. he's said time and time again that the only reason these fans of his have the oppurtunity to appreciate him to such an extent is because of you. had it not been you encouraging him to post his covers, he would not be standing on that stage for them to admire. so he can be as shameless as he wants in displaying his affection for you. naturally, law isn't the most into pda, but when he hears annoying people batter him for being so into you, his boyfriend, he feels the need to piss them off even further.

law's calloused fingers were playing with the flesh of your waist as he held you close. it was dark in the after party room so he made sure to keep you secure to his side so that he wouldn't lose you in the crowd.

there were a bunch of celebrities that attended their recent show scattered around the room, but he didn't care for them. not when he had you on his arm. plus, he didn't really like these after parties that much - he'd much prefer to be on the tour bus cuddling with you.

feeling unimpressed with the party, he turned to you to feel some comfort. when he saw how you were just taking in the view of everyone, he leaned down to kiss you, surprising you at the sudden affection. but soon, the both of you were just pressed against the wall of the room and blatantly making out with each other. his raven hair was messy by the time you two pulled away from each other and that knowing smirk of his was proudly plastered on his face.

the next morning, the internet were ripping law into pieces for still being in a relationship with you despite having access to as many beautiful women, handsome men, and alluring people that he could have wanted. he was a talented, well-known name in the scene with a handsome face and charming demeanor. he could have had anyone. and some were frustrated, for some reason, that he was still with you.

five years going strong in your relationship wasn't enough for the press to believe he was satisfied and completely settled down with you, for some reason...

he groans the moment he sees the headlines, throwing his phone to the mattress and turning into your side to be comforted by you once again. the only person capable of calming him down still remains to be only you.

"love you," he says against your skin, making you laugh at the sleepy confession.

"love you, too, law. you know i don't care about the stupid shit they say," you comment, making note of how tight his arms were around your waist.

he doesn't acknowledge what you say, only peppering more kisses to your bare skin.

rockstar ! law . . . kinda perfectly fits the rockstar bf aesthetic to a T. he's wearing the leather jackets and the other staple fashion pieces that scream "rockstar boyfriend." it doesn't help the way the clothes so perfectly fall into place on his body. he enjoys matching with you too, even if your aesthetics may not match. if he's wearing a heavy jewlery piece, like a necklace, ring, or bracelet, he buys a matching one that you would like and would be able to style. he doesn't mind discarding his iconic leather jacket for you if you are feeling cold. and of course, he's attentive, protective, and caring for you (and only you) - perfectly fuelling the fantasies many people have of that "rockstar boyfriend persona"

law was not known for being hot-headed. there were never any stories of him giving customer service people a hardtime, or of him trashing hotel rooms like many others in the same genre as him were guilty of doing. his overall attitude was off standish, but polite.

with a slight difference whenever he was seen with you. still off standish and polite, but specially doting and careful when he is with you.

his arm is always slithered around your waist or shoulders and he is always seen attentively listening to whatever it is you're rambling about. his eyes focused in on you, and only you, show that he is blocking out the rest of the world and listening to you intently.

the way he almost, kind of, definitely glares at people that interrupt your time together before he softens his gaze the moment you catch him making faces and scold him. he's completely wrapped around your finger, despite his seemingly intimidating and threatening persona, he's complete mush with you.

his leather jacket was thrown over your shoulders as he protectively stood behind you. tonight, the two of you were at the bar and watching the live performance of the local band of the town you were in. due to your begging, he agreed to get off of the counter stool and dance and sway to the music with you.

his arms are resting in front of you as he holds your hands in his, completely engulfing them with the size difference. the jacket around you is practically drowning you as well.

he's rocking you back and forth, occasionally leaning down and pressing a kiss to your cheek and whispering sweet nothings to you. your cute moment unfortunately comes to an end though. some drunkard knocks into the two of you and spills their entire pint of beer on you and your clothing.

your first reaction is to take off law's jacket to spare it from reeking of the beverage, but law's first reaction is to push you behind him and size up the guy that knocked into you.

"the hell is your problem, man?! it was an accident!" the man defends himself when he feels threatened by your boyfriend.

law's one hand is holding your own, wanting to make sure you stay close to him some way, while the other is clenched at his side to form a fist. noticing how he was very close to landing a hit on the idiot's face, you pull him back by his shirt, "c'mon, people are staring,"

"don't care, this guy has got his head so far up his ass," law simply says, genuinely not caring at all that people were looking at him as if he were crazy.

"law, let's just go," he turns his head to you, his gaze softening as he turns.

he waits a couple seconds before speaking in whispers, "do you really want to go? i can just take care of him-"

"i do, really. let's just go, babe, it's alright, it was an accident," you continued trying to convince him.

"he could've done it on purpose, he could be a complete, total asshole,"

you laughed at his reasoning of giving the guy a lesson, shaking your head, "let's just go and get out of here."

law doesn't seem satisfied with having to let the guy go without any reprecussions, but if law is anything: he's a boyfriend that listens to his boyfriend.

so he walks away with you close by, tight grip on your hand, and silently cursing the asshole the entire ride home.

rockstar ! law . . . very casually dedicates the most romantic, sensual, loving, etc. songs to you when he is on stage.

"this one is for the man standing at side stage, waiting for me,"

"i've been with the same idiot for 5 years now and this song is for him,"

"this is [name]'s favorite, by the way. so if you don't like it, you can fuck off,"

rockstar ! law . . . who doesn't understand the way some fans really idolize your relationship. he loves you a lot and he's glad that they're accepting of that fact, but why are people on the internet asking him and you to adopt them...? or why are they calling the both of you their "daddies"? he's confused. he at least pieces together that they're being supportive, but he doesn't truly understand what they mean when they say stuff like "i wanna go to paris" underneath his posts of you and him on his instagram.

rockstar ! law . . . whose favorite audience is still you. he loves playing his guitar for you, just in the quiet of your room (when you're finally home for tour) and with you on the bed with his strumming as background noise to your reading, or whatever hobby you commit to.

his fingers move with such familiarity he can easily take his eyes off of the neck of the guitar. he looks at you with such love and care that it would make any onlookers vomit at how sweet he was being.

the song that he was playing was faintly resembling "can't help falling in love" by elvis, with his own personal twist. the moment you recognize the chords and notes, though, you look at him with a deadpan expression on your face.

he smirks, tilting his head, "what?" he'll ask with that annoying knowing look on his face.

"you're so cheesy," you comment with an eye roll.

"oh, don't be an asshole now,"

"not being an asshole, just being honest!"

law puts down the acoustic guitar, walking over to where you were and planting a kiss to the top of your head. clearing his throat, he begins to mimic the singer with exaggeration. it spurs you into laughter at his impression, which he only grins wider at. your laugh still remains his favorite sound in the whole world.

this soft side was only shown behind closed doors with you. and you liked it that way. no one else got to see your usually intimidating boyfriend with his walls completely down. how sweet and doting he actually was. polar opposite to that persona he put on whenever he walked onto those grand stages.

he was just yours right now.

and as he leans down to press a passionate kiss to your lips, you can smile against his with comfortability. and warmness spreads throughout both of your chests as he smiles back.

and finally, rockstar ! law who definitely gets your name tattooed somewhere on his body. probably on his hands or arms tbh because that is the most visible body part of his that gets photographed and noticed due to how he plays the guitar. that way if anyone wants to take photos of him in his element, they'll see a small part of you that he carries with him everywhere.

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qin-qin16 · 5 months ago

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SWEET SWEET LOVE

Summary: book tropes with Cross, Error and Ink!

cw.: 0.6 k content: sfw, short headcanons, hurt/comfort, everyone gets a happy ending… unless?, depressive thoughts in Error’s part, but nothing extreme! note: i really don’t know how to end headcanons, but have fun anyway! Error's part was inspired by this post!

Cross - you fell first, he fell harder + dog poetry

You always compared Cross to a dog, one of those who trust in nothing and no one;

They bark, they bite, they hurt anyone who crosses their path. No one wants to get close to a dog like that;

However, you began to see more than just that wild layer that Cross seemed to want to display. Behind all that anger, all that hatred towards everything and everyone, the deep envy of happy worlds, you managed to see the pain, the fear of never being able to live happily again after so many sacrifices;

And, just like a dog, Cross just needed to learn to trust again, and of course, you were willing to be the one to teach him;

Both of you had to be patient—and you also had to be very understanding during Cross's outbursts of feelings or the moments when he wanted to be alone;

It wasn't easy, but God, how worth it it was after all this time;

As you like to say: you fell in love first, but Cross fell harder in love;

It was like having a poorly trained guard dog: he would do anything to protect you. Bites, growls, endless fights if it meant your safety;

He wouldn't lose you, not like he lost everyone else;

And if not losing you meant acting like a dog, he would act.

Error - Soulmates + second chance

Before Error became, well, Error, you knew him as Sans;

Souls intertwined across different multiverses, but after a long time, they managed to find each other again — even after Sans' death and his afterlife state (Geno);

For a long time, you lived like this: a love between a ghost and a living, souls that should not have been separated by death;

However, something changed. Overnight, he simply disappeared;

No more gentle touches, no more whispered promises before sleep, no more starry nights where only the two of you were witnesses to your love;

Any mere memory of him was like digging a hole deeper and deeper, a hole that, no matter how much you dug, seemed to have no end;

So, was this what it was like to lose a soulmate?

But even as this emptiness consumed you more and more, something deep within your SOUL would not let you give up, an unknown determination that refused to let you believe Sans had vanished forever;

And your SOUL was right... well, partly right;

Sans was indeed alive, but no longer as Sans;

Again, something happened, and now you found yourself facing Error who, with great insistence, claims to be your former boyfriend;

And even though your SOUL was telling you that yes, that was the Sans you knew, are you willing to give it a second chance?

Whether he knows your answer or not, Error would not lose you again.

Ink - Enemies to friends

Your first impression of Ink was far from pleasant;

The disgust you felt for him at the moment was only surpassed by anger when he vomited black ink on your new shoes — and to top it off, he barely apologized, just turned and vanished behind another ink stain;

Obviously, a presence as striking as Ink's wouldn't be easily forgotten by you, and sure enough, when he appeared in front of you again, you wanted to make him eat those same shoes (now permanently stained with ink);

But to your surprise, he had returned to learn more about your universe (something he would explain much later what it meant);

As much as you detested the idea of serving as a tour guide for someone like him, an airhead who had no consideration for anyone, you went along with it. After all, the sooner you started explaining how your universe worked, the sooner he would leave;

Through ups and downs, you ended up softening your heart towards Ink. Even though his lack of personal space sometimes irritated you, you could see a certain fascination in him every time he talked about universes and art, and whether you liked it or not, you also felt sorry for him for not having a soul;

And like a great (new) friend, he even promised to take you to other universes to explore and have fun — what could possibly go wrong?

#undertale #sans #sans x reader #character x reader #cross sans #cross x reader #error x reader #ink x reader #error sans #ink sans #sans x y/n #qinqin stuff 💖

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cancerian-woman · 15 days ago

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klonnie au|inspired by the haunted mansion: For over a thousand years Klaus has loved and mourned his former wife, Bonnie. He has searched and discarded many companionships, but no one has been able to love and understand him like Bonnie did. Klaus has forcibly adapted to life without her, but on his journey to break his curse, he sees Bonnie following around a certain doppelgänger. He knows in his heart that Bonnie has returned to him and he's going to need his siblings' help getting her back.

An excerpt from this fic:

Bonnie set her skepticism aside as she sat her duffle bed on the large vintage ottoman of the Mikaelsons spare bedroom. Rebekah planned her birthday sleepover for her fellow cheerleaders weeks ago. This “holiday” was extra special to Bonnie’s physics partner, as her older brothers would be turning home from their business trip. While Rebekah has only been at Mystic Falls High for four weeks, Bonnie oddly trusted her like a sister.

The little witch was the first to arrive at the Mikaelson mansion. With whispers of magic in the house Bonnie couldn’t help but investigate. As a newbie witch, she wanted to find any source of new information possible. Her bedroom for the night was vintage styled and decorated with vibrant flowers in every corner. The smell of citrus hit her nose and she couldn’t be more pleased.

Bonnie did a twirl in the mirror admiring Rebekah’s choice in silk nightgowns and headbands. The witch saved herself some preparation time by pinning up her curled hair. Her peer did inform her since she was there first, she got to choose the red gown specifically. When was the last time her life was centered around an enjoyable night and not the struggles of being supernatural?

“You look beautiful,” Rebekah grinned, and stepped into the bedroom. “I could not imagine my birthday without you. You have been the kindest friend.”

Bonnie quickly accepted the hug. She felt a sense of magic within Rebekah but trusted she’d tell the truth on her own terms. Whether that be as a witch, werewolf or vampire. This girl was kind and it wouldn’t be fair though her friends suggested otherwise to call her out. Besides, Bonnie hadn’t even met the rest of the family. The cheer squad’s first night at the Mikaelsons wasn’t going to be filled with drama, not on Rebekah’s day.

“Wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world,” Bonnie replied, giving Rebekah an extra squeeze. “I can help you set up.”

Rebekah laughed at that. “Nonsense, darling, I can handle everything. Take a tour of my home.”

“Are you sure?” Bonnie asked, with her eyes wide. “What if I helped set the tables, arrange blankets or even do the food?”

“Yes, do not worry in my home you are not a guest here,” Rebekah said, sternly with a sigh beginning to turn away. The teen wasn’t even finished applying her makeup-and was still dressed in her bright robe. The rolls were just beginning to slip in her blonde hair. “Just shout if you need me!”

Bonnie checked her phone Caroline and Elena would be running late for different reasons. The others on the squad were on their way or running behind leaving Bonnie to explore on her own.

The Mikaelson manor sent shivers down Bonnie's spine. The place felt like a magical hotspot, giving her goosebumps all over. While she admired the clever vintage-themed designs of the family, she found their home to be dangerously confusing to navigate.

Bonnie decided to go to the nearest room with a light seeping through under the door. She gasped, as she accidentally stepped into a private art space.

The woman in the painting reminded Bonnie of herself before she entered the supernatural world: happy, carefree and filled with gratitude. Magic gave this woman joy. She existed across different eras, and Bonnie couldn't help but notice the time periods, which ranged from 1002 to the 2010s. The artist signed himself as Nik M with sentiments on eternal love. The woman through the art had lived through each era, embodying the luxurious fashion trends of Black women.

Bonnie wouldn’t go so far as to call this woman her doppelgänger, but the similarities were striking. They both had green eyes, golden skin, thick dark hair and other common traits like freckles in the Bennett’s. The young witch tried not to dwell on it, but for a moment, she entertained the unsettling thought of being a doppelgänger and shivered at the idea.

The painting that captivated Bonnie the most was of a woman with curly hair obscuring her face, holding her head high as if magic were being used to promote relaxation. Surrounded by a lush garden, she appeared more content than anything else in the world. In fact, in none of these paintings the woman was never down; she was at peace. As Bonnie reached out to touch the painting, she quickly withdrew her hand when the door opened.

“Not everyday I find a beautiful woman in my study,”

This man was unlike any she had ever seen. His dimpled grin and the curls resting on his shoulders caught Bonnie off guard. He had an enticing scent of expensive cologne that hinted at his attention to appearance. Although his shirt and pants were a simple dark henley with jeans, she couldn't help but notice his preference for a chain featuring a butterfly around his neck. Yes, she noticed an English accent similar to Rebekah’s.

“You can call me Nik, what is your name?” Nik asked, holding his hand out for Bonnie. “I am one of Rebekah’s eldest brothers.”

“Bonnie. Bonnie Bennett,” Bonnie said, returning the shake.

Their enclosed hand jolted upon touch and Bonnie quickly pulled away hoping Klaus didn’t notice.

“I thought Rebekah said you wouldn’t be home until later?”

“It is my sister’s birthday, what type of brother would I be without a surprise?”

“Dramatic entrance, for a smart brother.”

“I strive for the element of surprise, my love.” Nik smiled at the compliment.

Never being alone with a grown man before Bonnie’s mouth went dry and she got flustered. She was met at an uncomfortable crossroad. Be herself or do what her friends would do? She chose herself first.

“I can leave,” Bonnie suggested, not knowing how to flirt properly. “I know art can be really personal. I wouldn’t want to disrespect your space.”

“As an artist, explaining my motives is just as important. Would you desire a tour?” Nik questioned, holding his hand out for Bonnie. “There are hundreds perhaps more here. All of my wife.”

Bonnie reluctantly accepted the warm invitation. Their hands jolted and she felt a fiery passion burn the closer she was to Klaus.

“Do you mind if I ask what happened?” Bonnie asked, as judging the photos of the woman framed on his antique desk.

“She was murdered, and before that, we promised eternal love. We wanted our story to be heard for centuries. I use my art to cope with her loss.” Nik sighed, as he traced a photo of the woman in seventies inspired clothing. “Love will never die, it was rather the purest forms of eternal affection.”

“I’m sorry you lost her. The way you remember her is really beautiful, Nik.” Bonnie compliments, and secretly swoons over him. “Did you ever receive justice for her murder?”

Klaus mockingly grinned at that question. “That person will never be heard from again. Tell me, Bonnie, do you ever think it is possible for souls to be connected?”

“Sounds like something out of a movie.” Bonnie said, brushing off the question. Not wanting to reveal her witch status.

“I think some people are aligned by fate. What goes around will return if it is meant to be.” Klaus pauses, and gazes into Bonnie really studying her beauty.

Klaus's throat went dry as he realized that Bonnie was exactly who Rebekah had described: his small, courageous, and daringly beautiful witch who loved him unashamedly. The red silk gown sparked the most enticing thoughts in his mind, and her skin still bore the sweet scent of honeysuckle that he remembered. However, instead of rushing to confess things that might send Bonnie running for the hills, he chose a softer approach.

“You're distracting, my love, would you like to see other pieces of art? The gardens perhaps?”

Bonnie blushed in response. There was something mystical and comforting about the mystical English artist. She’d rather hear stories about a man who loved his wife so much he kept her immortal in time.

“First, I want to know all about the artist and his work dedicated to making his wife immortal,” Bonnie said, looking into Klaus eyes. She might not tell everyone but she too enjoyed a romantic story from time to time!

For a fleeting moment that almost made the witch step-away she believed she saw Amber colored eyes but blue settled back in.

“Who would I be to disagree with a ravishing woman?” Klaus asked, pulling Bonnie closer to him. He wanted to moan at how sweet she smelled.

Bonnie giggled, and rolled her eyes. “Then I want that tour of the gardens and the pool area please? Rebekah is still getting ready.”

“As you wish,” Klaus obliged, and he noticed how Bonnie loved eye contact and physical touch as he explained his motives though she already understood him.

Klaus didn’t need to taste her blood or have a witch perform a spell to understand his wife had returned back to him. Once the time is right, Bonnie too will believe in their love again. His mother and father sought to keep them separated and Klaus will go to the ends of the earth to ensure Bonnie never leaves his life again.

The original vampire is just grateful Rebekah stalled Bonnie as he removed the paintings of her sleeping, jogging, gardening and anything else without her knowledge that would incriminate him too soon.

#a fic im writing but isn’t ready to post #but perfect time to share this 💕🌚#bonnie bennett #klaus mikaelson #klonnie #klonnie fanfic #klonnie fic #driawrites #klonnie mischief #tvd #the vampire diaries #bonnie x klaus #klaus x Bonnie

87 notes · View notes

lilirari · 1 year ago

Text

𐙚 ⋆୨୧˚ A SKY FULL OF STARS ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. summary : lando attends a k-pop concert for the first time and ends up falling in love with a certain member of the group

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. pairing : lando norris x fem! k-pop idol! reader

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. faceclaim : huh yunjin of le sserafim

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. author's note : ah yes, lando norris, my favourite bri'ish papaya boy. i wanted to post this on his birthday but i couldn't get the time to finish it T_T anyways i hope this will at least take everyone's mind off from that clown show earlier today (las vegas gp) for even a second & let's all be grateful that lando's ok :( <3

le_sserafim

liked by yourinstagram, 39saku_chan, lilymhe and 905,127 others

le_sserafim 2023 LE SSERAFIM TOUR ' FLAME RISES ' IN BANGKOK ANNOUNCEMENT #LE_SSERAFIM #FLAME_RISES

view all 10,087 comments

yourinstagram 🤍

lilymhe my girls !!!!

liked by yourinstagram

user01 ariana what are you doing here

user03 lily's a fearnot and she's met them a couple of times. iirc, she and yn are friends now.

user01 omg i never knew that ??? we stan these queens & their friendship !!!

user05 ahhh they're finally coming to my hometown !!!

user07 i just know they're going to slay like they always do <3

user09 let's gooooooo !!!!!! 🫶

user11 we're getting sour grapes live 🥹🥹🥹

user13 streets are saying that y/n's going to perform a solo song 🤭

user15 yoooo what ??? fr ???

user17 an original or a cover ?

user13 most likely an original 🥹 she has been spending a lot of time in the studio lately.. even her most recent post is of pictures she took while she was in the studio so she's probably working on a new solo song

user17 shut uppppp i can't wait now !!

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alex_albon 5 hours ago | yourinstagram 20 minutes ago

seen by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, pierregasly and 5,129,383 others

landonorris 📍 bangkok, thailand

liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 7,123,456 others

tagged alex_albon, georgerussell63, lilymhe, carmenmmundt

landonorris hello hello bangkok

view all 500,540 comments

alex_albon lando norizz strikes again

landonorris YOU'RE JUST BEING A HATER BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT AS COOL AND AS GOOD-LOOKING AS ME

alex_albon maybe i'm not but at least i got enough rizz to pull a girl 🤷🏻‍♂️

landonorris ... i hate you

oscarpiastri looking good, mate 🧡

danielricciardo sorry for not being able to join you guys, mate 😞

landonorris i miss you mate 😢

danielricciardo miss you too. it's during times like this when i feel really bad, y'know. you really need to get yourself a partner, mate. i can't stand seeing you all alone 😭

landonorris working on it ✊

charles_leclerc please find a girl for him there alex_albon

user02 not lando third-wheeling two couples 😭

user04 not the drivers telling lando to get a girlfriend when i'm literally right here

user06 lando doesn't need a girlfriend. he has oscar.

user10 aren't you guys on vacation ? why's george wearing a merc t-shirt 💀

mercedesamgf1 because he's a dedicated and hard-working man. the work grind never stops !!! 🔥💪

carmenmmundt told you everyone would notice georgerussell63 🧍🏻‍♀️

georgerussell63 sorry love 🥲 should've listened to you 😞

user12 if lily attends the le sserafim concert, there's a high chance that lando and y/n might meet 😍

user14 wtf is a le shrimp fin

user16 i get it that y/n and lily are friends but why would lando even attend a k-pop concert ? he doesn't have any interest in k-pop

user18 ^^^^ plus why are you shipping y/n and lando, op.. they don't even know each other.. this is on another level of delusional

user12 mark my words y/n and lando will meet each other at the concert and fall in love

user20 .. this is the real life, not a wattpad fanfiction or a k-drama, weirdo.

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lilymhe 1 hour ago | yourinstagram 30 minutes ago

seen by alex_albon, carmenmmundt, francisca.cgomes and 1,127,890 others

yourinstagram

liked by lilymhe, landonorris, bbrightvc and 15,129,283 others

tagged 39saku_chan, _chaechae_1, zuhazana, hhh.e_c.v

yourinstagram officially released my new single, 'i ≠ doll' today at the bangkok concert ! go listen to it now ♡ the energy today was insane and i had a great time performing for you all ! love you bangkok <3

view all 1,999,237 comments

_chaechae_1 love u xx

zuhazana 🤍

lilymhe my wife !!!! you did so well today 🥹🫶 i'm so proud

yourinstagram love you wifey !! 🩷

lilymhe are you sure it's only bangkok you love ? 🤭

yourinstagram lily !!! 🫢

user47 WHAT'S THIS SUPPOSED TO MEAN

user21 what are they talking about...

user69 sus 🧐

winmetawin nice song :)

bbrightvc 🤍

yourinstagram 🤍

dew_jsu 🔥🔥🔥

hirunkit_ ❤️

landonorris it was fun 🫶

yourinstagram aww, i'm glad to hear that ! thanks for attending the concert 🫶

user90 Y/N AND LANDO INTERACTIONS?? this was not on my 2023 bingo card but i love it

user73 MY PRETTY WIFEEEEEE

user38 she's so gorgeous 😭

user19 her smile 🥹🥹🥹🥹

alex_albon great job as always, y/n ! love your new single !

yourinstagram tysm albono <3

user45 wait if y/n calls alex 'albono' then that means she's as close to him as she is with lily

user66 EXACTLY!! i love how she's slowly making lots of friends with people from the f1 world

georgerussell63 carmen & i had a great time, y/n ! thanks for the backstage passes. it was fun getting to learn the ropes of how you guys perform.

yourinstagram anytime, george ! it was fun getting to know you both ^^

user81 thailand f4 in the likes and comments.. my two worlds are colliding 🥹

user12 AHHH LANDO LIKED AND COMMENTED !!! they love each other !!!ynlando forever ❤️

user38 just because he liked and commented doesn't mean they're a thing...

user50 stop being delusional, op

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lando.jpg

liked by alex_albon, georgerussell63, yourinstagram and 8,190,349 others

lando.jpg in my fearnot era (lily forced me to write this caption)

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alex_albon lando's got great taste in music, everyone 🤭

lilymhe lies !! i didn't force you ! you wrote this caption all by yourself 😒

georgerussell63 not a single picture of the rest of us.. i see how it is 👀

yourinstagram 🧡

landonorris 🤍

user99 stop not lando & y/n using each others' favourite/representative heart emojis.. 🥹

user57 y/n and lando in their bestie era

quadrant looking so handsome!

user88 y/n in the first slide of the jpg account.. somethin' is sus here 🤨

user76 right?? he could've put that picture of the girls first but no he decided to put y/n first.. 🧐

user43 guys please let's not get too deep into this it's just a bunch of pictures

maxfewtrell looks like you had a lot of fun, mate 🤭

alexalbon oh he definitely did 🤭

user33 SOMETHING'S GOING ONNNNNN

charles_leclerc 🫣

spotify stream le sserafim's songs on spotify, lando!

user50 what's my wife doing in a white man's post

user67 so you're telling me that the first picture, which is literally the best fan taken picture of y/n at the concert, was not taken by y/n's fansites but by a white man???

user86 y/n on lando's jpg account.. never thought i'd live to see a day like this

user94 y/n looks so pretty in the first slide 🫤🫶

user33 i waited 2 years to meet y/n, white man did it in a week

user75 ahhh lando's a fearnot confirmed!!

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yourinstagram

liked by landonorris, mclaren, oscarpiastri and 20,107,287 others

yourinstagram been liking the colour 🍊 a lot lately...

view all 2,129,989 comments

lilymhe of course you have 🤭🧡

landonorris it sure is a pretty colour, isn't it? 😁

yourinstagram perhaps 🫣

maxverstappen1 🤨

oscarpiastri 👀

yourinstagram 🤫

maxverstappen1 🧐

user99 HELP MAX'S COMMENTS I'M CRYING

user66 max is so nosy 😭

user04 max trying to figure out what's going on with y/n and the mclaren drivers.. he's just like us

charles_leclerc 😶

user57 charles knows something fr

alex_albon why am i not surprised 🤨

yourinstagram look away albono 😬

spotify orange looks so good on you, queen

barbie hi (ginger) barbie 🥰

yourinstagram omg hi barbie!!! 🥹🥹

duolingo wow 🤩

wkorea 아름다운

somsomi0309 my gf 🫶

user06 ain't no way the girl who swore she hated the colour orange like a year back posted this..

user55 EXACTLY!! idk how to react fr

user78 i thought y/n got hacked or sumn 😭

user09 had to do a double take fr

user88 chill guys, everyone's likes & dislikes changes quite frequently ykyk

user37 still then.. this is not the y/n ik 🤨

user83 MY GORGEOUS WIFE!!!

user67 marry me y/n

lilyzneimer 🧡

yourinstagram 🧡

user23 OMG LILY AND Y/N INTERACTIONS???

user97 what if.. y/n and lando...

user73 y/n mclaren wag confirmed?

user30 maybe not a wag but she definitely has connections with mclaren..

user45 omg y/n mclaren collab maybe :0)

user25 GOSH SHE'S SO PRETTY??? 😩😩😩

user88 that one guy she was kissing in bangkok is so lucky fr

mclaren orange mhm? i think we've spotted a papaya fan here 🫵

yourinstagram 🫣🫣🫣

user81 ORANGE LOOKS FIRE ON YOU GIRLIE

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mclaren

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris, danielricciardo and 23,283,555 others

tagged yourinstagram, landonorris

mclaren thank you yourinstagram for joining us on the paddock this weekend! it was such an honour having you by our side 🧡

ps you're our lucky charm now 🤭

view all 1,123,789 comments

mclaren stream y/n's & le sserafim's songs everyone!!

f1 the queen of the paddock 🤩

lnfour the best duo!!

quadrant y/n ate and left no crumbs

yourinstagram it's a pleasure to be your lucky charm ^^ thank you for inviting me 🧡

scuderiaferrari we love you y/n! please come visit us next time ❤

williamsracing our garage is always open for you y/n 💙

astonmartinf1 please come to aston martin, y/n we have alonso

redbullracing since everyone's shooting their shot.. we'll give you free merch if you come by our garage next time, y/n 🤭

yourinstagram ooh this is so tempting 😫

mclaren get away red bull y/n belongs to us 🤺🤺

alfaromeostake we'll give you an alfa romeo if you visit us

alphataurif1 our drivers were jamming to your songs all day long!

yourinstagram ahh i saw daniel singing to 'antifragile' in the car 🥹 thank you for playing it through the radio ! 🫶

alpinef1team our drivers & the crew love your music, y/n!

mercedesamgf1 come to mercedes, y/n we have roscoe

yourinstagram oh this convinced me i'm currently omw 🏃‍♀️

mclaren not y/n cheating on us...

yourinstagram anything for roscoe 💁‍♀️

lewishamilton 🤍

haasf1team pretty queen 🥰

user04 HELP NOT THE TEAMS COMPETING TO GET Y/N IN COME BY TO THEIR GARAGE

user08 y/n going to merc solely for roscoe.. i know my goat

user16 alfa's rizz game is crazy they're offering a whole car to y/n 😭

user24 i'm convinced charles wrote that comment by the ferrari account

oscarpiastri i had a blast this weekend bc of you. loved having you over, y/n 🧡

yourinstagram aww, you're too sweet, pastry :( made my day 🧡

user32 shut up everyone y/n calls oscar 'pastry' :(((( <333

charles_leclerc come to the ferrari garage next time, y/n 🥹

yourinstagram ofc bestie i promise i'll visit you in the next race i attend 🤞

lilymhe orange suits you, wifey 🤭🧡

francisca.cgomes 😘😘

maxverstappen1 it was great to have finally met you, y/n! my friends at mclaren are so lucky to have you! ☺

yourinstagram aww, thanks maxie! it was great to meet you too :D

lilyzneimer 🫶🫶

landonorris hi pretty girl 🫣

yourinstagram hi pretty boy 🫣

user05 since when did these two start calling e/o 'pretty' 🤨🤨

user10 they are so sus istg

user40 y/n and lando... i know what you are 🧐

user48 why are y/n and lando flirting in public bros think about the rest of us

user56 notice how there's not a single hate comment towards y/n? that's my queen, everyone!!

user72 i've been scrolling down for what seems like an eternity now but i still haven't spotted a 'just f1 prioritising celebrities over fans' comment. y/n is officially the oscar piastri of the paddock celebrities

user64 no bc the way everyone's so in love with her.. they're all so real for this

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yourinstagram

liked by landonorris, oliviarodrigo, louispartridge_ and 30,127,143 others

tagged landonorris, mclaren, oscarpiastri

yourinstagram thank you for inviting me to the united states gp, mclaren! it was such a wonderful experience and i had so much fun! team papaya forever 🧡 also, chin up, pastry! i know you'll do so much better in mexico <3 and congrats on the p2, lan — you deserve it!

view all 3,457,099 comments

oscarpiastri thank you y/n 🫶

yourinstagram anytime bestie! you got this!

mclaren we love you y/n!!

yourinstagram love you all too mwah <3

landonorris yoooo i got a slide all to myself on the paddock queen's ig post!!

liked by yourinstagram

landonorris thanks, pretty girl 😁

liked by yourinstagram

landonorris team papaya forever, hmm? 😏

yourinstagram ew shut up and get your ugly emoji away

landonorris never 😏😏😏

yourinstagram i hate you 😒

landonorris you know you love me i know you care 😩

yourinstagram okay justice beaver 🧍‍♀️

user90 JUSTICE BEAVER I'M CRYING

user55 justice beaver.. (the office flashbacks)

user45 i love y/n and lando's conversations sm 😭 they're always so entertaining

user78 not ynlando bickering like an old married couple

user67 lan and pastry... i love this trio 🥹

user11 team papaya forever? does this mean you're a mclaren fan, y/n?

yourinstagram ... maybe

user13 screaming crying throwing up y/n's a papaya!!!!

user15 I KNOW WHO MY GOAT ISSSSSS 🗣️💅🏻

lilymhe MY GIRL MY GIRL MY GIRLLLLLL

lnfour SLAYYYY

danielricciardo heidi & i love your music, y/n! keep on slaying 😁🧡

scuderiaferrari did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

carmenmmundt 😍😍

maxfewtrell 🧡

savnorris so pretty!!!

riabish it girllll

adam_norris_pure_electric ❤

liked by yourinstagram

olivernorris1 👏👏

flonorris1 gorgeous!

ciscanorris1 🧡🧡🧡

user91 the way the entire norris family is in the comment section??? hello???

user75 not y/n summoning the norris family + lando's bff in her comments 😭

user34 something is going on between the norris' and the y/l/n's

user17 that picture of lando.. he's so cute 😭

user19 smiley lando made my day 🥹 thank you for this picture, y/n

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landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, joaofelix79, yourinstagram and 15,348,999 others

tagged yourinstagram

landonorris p2 babyyyyyyyyy

all thanks to my lucky charm, y/n 🧡

view all 1,999,999 comments

mclaren papaya power!!! 🧡

lnfour 🐐🐐🐐

quadrant LFG!!!!

yourinstagram you're welcome 🤭

liked by landonorris

oscarpiastri great race, mate!

carlossainz55 ❤👏

adam_norris_pure_electric 🏆💪

savnorris mila's so proud of her uncle la la !

charles_leclerc LANDO WE CAN BE WORLD CHAMPIONS I SAID

parishilton 🙌

alex_albon 👀👀

maxfewtrell lesgooooo

mclarenauto p2 for mr norris!!

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— imessage : my bristol boy ☆

y/n : .. lando, did you just reveal our relationship through a twitch stream?

my bristol boy ☆ : i got tricked, y/n 😭

my bristol boy ☆ : i'm so sorry 😞

y/n : you're so silly...

y/n : it's alright, baby, don't worry

y/n : we would've had to reveal it sooner or later anyways

y/n : it's just so funny to me that it was done on a twitch stream 😭

y/n : but yeah, it's all good 👍

my bristol boy ☆ : you're always so understanding ☹️

my bristol boy ☆ : i love you

my bristol boy ☆ : now that our r/s is public, can i please post pictures of my pretty girl now? i want to show you off to the world

y/n : not if i show you off first 🏃‍♀️

yourinstagram

liked by landonorris, tomholland2013, lnfour and 40,887,345 others

tagged landonorris

yourinstagram well, looks like there's nothing left to hide now since the cat's out of the bag. alexa, play agora hills 🧡

view all 8 comments

yourinstagram my manager wants to meet you btw lan

landonorris .. oh no 🏃‍♂️

landonorris i suddenly don't exist anymore

landonorris sorry sweetheart 😅

landonorris KISSING AND HOPE THEY CAUGHT US

landonorris I WANNA SHOW YOU OFF

landonorris since we've made our relationship public now, can you please tell the world that i'm actually your favourite driver ?

yourinstagram ok (it's still seb)

landonorris wtf

landonorris no wait the words in parentheses don't exist therefore i am your favourite driver in the whole world

yourinstagram ok you keep on telling yourself that.. 🧍‍♀️

landonorris my stargirl

landonorris you're so pretty

landonorris i love you

yourinstagram i love you too my bristol boy <3

comments on this post have been limited.

landonorris

liked by yourinstagram, philfoden, quadrant and 37,888,979 others

tagged yourinstagram

landonorris showing off my pretty girl to the world 😁

view all 50 comments

landonorris also y/n called me her favourite driver take that sebastianvettel (jk love u)

sebastianvettel haha, that's great lando!

sebastianvettel but i think we all know who the #1 in her heart truly is

yourinstagram it's always been you seb 🫶🫶

landonorris ok i can see that i'm not wanted here 🚶‍♂️

yourinstagram nerd

yourinstagram simp

yourinstagram live laugh love sebastian vettel

liked by sebastianvettel

alex_albon what a simp 🙄

georgerussell63 finally!!

oscarpiastri 🧡🧡🧡

lilymhe i can't believe my wife got taken by a guy who goes vroom vroom for a living 😒

yourinstagram don't say that lily i still love you

landonorris your boyfriend also goes vroom vroom for a living

lilymhe what boyfriend? i don't have any boyfriend

alex_albon i'm literally right here 🧍‍♂️

lewishamilton happy for you two 🙌

charles_leclerc 😄❣️

danielricciardo lando norizz is a myth, everyone!

adam_norris_pure_electric happy for you, son 👍❤

maxverstappen1 ❤

carmenmmundt pretty y/n 💓

_chaechae_1 take good care of her, lando!

hhh.e_c.v 💖💖

riabish my girl!!

savnorris mila's favourite auntie 🥺

yourinstagram i will cry savannah

yourinstagram tell her i love her and i miss her :(

savnorris she misses you too! please come visit us again soon

yourinstagram will do! 🥹

maxfewtrell rooting for you both!

mclaren our papaya king & queen 🧡

patriciooward nice!!

lnfour so happy for you 🥹

quadrant we stan!!!

tomholland2013 🤩

f1 our favourite couple!!

yourinstagram i love you my pretty boy

landonorris i love you my pretty girl

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322 notes · View notes

charlessainzz · 7 months ago

Note

Hii! Can you write a landox singer reader?

thanks for the request! I wasn’t too sure what you wanted exactly so hopefully this is somewhat good enough :)

DJ Got Us Falling In Love

‘The DJ sucks tonight’ was your first thought as you entered the club. You strutted into the LA club in your favorite black slip dress that didn’t leave a thing to the imagination. You were dying for a fun night out, and this DJ was ruining it. No matter how loud the music was played, it could not get the crowd pumped. You couldn’t spend your one night off tour like this.

That’s how you found yourself hijacking the booth. Giving the DJ a booty bump, you stepped in front of the equipment. He instantly recognized you, Y/F/N Y/L/N, the biggest up and coming pop singer in the US.

You get to work pulling up the sleaziest and most intoxicating club songs you could think of. And shamelessly sneak in your own hits. The energy of the club flips on its head and everyone’s dancing.

You feel like your work here is done. You are about to step away from the booth when you feel someone watching you. That’s when you notice a certain curly haired guy eyeing you across the VIP section.

Lando Norris. F1 driver. British play boy. He had a reputation and you toyed the idea of him in your mind. He wouldn’t be able to handle you, but how fun it would be to see him try.

You give him a flashy smile teasing him to come talk to you. He falls for your plan and walks over with drink in hand.

Lando glides into your side and gives you his signature toothy grin. He smells like bourbon and expensive cologne. He looks good of course.

“I used to be a DJ you know”, he says with amusement. You can see him reminiscing.

“Why’d you quit?”, you inquire. He looks at you pondering his next answer.

“I needed to focus on what I was actually good at, driving”, he admits playing with his chain.

“A driver with no wins? Can’t be that good”, you say with a smirk. Lando’s eyes go wide immediately in utter shock at what you’ve just said out loud.

You double over laughing at how you’ve just managed to shut him up.

“Well you’re a singer with no Grammys so, can’t be that good either”, he retorts back putting his hands on his hips.

Both of you smiling at each other, silently egging the tension on. He was quick with the comebacks. And you liked that.

“Touché Norris”, you smile. “So, are you going to keep staring at me or ask me to dance?”, you say boldly.

“Well I thought you would never ask!”, he shouts and grabs your hand pulling you to the dance floor falling deep into the sea of bodies. You feel his arms pull you into his front.

Hands all over as you get lost in the music and the feel of each other’s skin. You feel him bring a hand to your cheek as he gently turns you.

Your eyes flicker from his lips to his eyes and back. He smiles like he’s read your mind. Lando leans down and engulfs you in a deep kiss. Tongues fighting for dominance, you can taste his last drink.

After what feels like eternity, you tear apart from him searching for a breath. He can tell what his kiss has done to you. You push back up looking for another when he pulls his head back. You feel desperate for more.

Whispering in your ear he says, “If you want more of me, you’ll have to invite me to a concert of yours”. You look into his eyes seeing him enjoy this game.

“Only if I can come to a race of yours”, you smile back.

“That can definitely be arranged”, he says leaning back down to give you what you desired. Lips melting together you think how you’d give him backstage passes if that’s what he wanted. Anything to be in his presence like this.

Suddenly Lando pulls back again. You let out a huff. “Oh and I want a private concert after,” he smirks giving your waist a pinch.

“You’re pushing it Norris!”, you warn. Maybe it was you that wouldn’t be able to handle him.

He giggles at your cute frustration and pushes your head into his chest giving you a tight hug.

“Do you want to get out of here?”, he asks with eyebrows raised. “I’ll show you how fast I can really be in a car”.

“I like the sound of that… maybe I can give you that private concert too”, you joke poking his chest.

Lando’s cheeks go tomato red as he thinks of what that could entail. “Alright time to go!”, he says grabbing your hand.

He leads you out of the club past both of your cheering friends. “No there go our DJs!”, they scream.

You and Lando can’t help but laugh as you step outside into the night. Hands intertwined, you’re met with a wall of flashing paparazzi lights.

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #writtenbycharlessainzz #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris fluff

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 1 year ago

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Pairing : BF!Lee Felix x F!Reader TW : pregnancy ; no childbirth (yet?) ; mention of an abortion ; Felix is a POS ; angst no fluff ; Word Count : 2.5k Request : @lovesunshinefelix : can I get an angsty felix request diff from his pregnancy series wherein felix is an absolute fucking asshole and left the reader when he found out they were pregnant, u decide what happens next surprise me AN : I hope that you are thoroughly surprised by this, I hate making him the asshole honestly, but at the same time I absolutely love it!! I just love writing stuff like this!! I hope you love this girlie, this is for you!

Double pink lines showed on all six white tests that were evenly spaced along the bathroom counter. They were dark, they were undeniable, not a single discrepancy is any of them. It was a fact now… You were pregnant, and your boyfriend… he was on tour, for the next three months.

It’s not that you didn’t want to tell him, it was quite the opposite actually. You wanted him to know, but he was such a sweetheart, he cared about you so much, you knew that if you told him during the tour, he’d drop everything just to come home and be with you. It was the early stages of your pregnancy, and you knew that for now, you’d be able to handle whatever was thrown your way, whether it be symptoms or doctors appointments. It was easier to hide right now too, you didn’t have to worry about him catching on. If he questioned why you hid it from him, your main reason was that you weren’t sure if the pregnancy was 100% yet. The first 12 weeks were the scariest and the most uncertain, and you didn’t want him or yourself to get too excited, especially if it ended in a miscarriage. It was a valid reason, and it had you keeping your mouth shut until he came through the front door.

Unexpected and unplanned was the announcement at your 12 week ultrasound, that not only were you pregnant, but you were having twins. Two babies, and you rightfully panicked for a second because that was… It wasn’t planned to even get pregnant with one, let alone two, but you knew that with Felix by your side, you’d be able to get through it. He was the ray of sunshine that you held tightly onto whenever things seemed to be a little too hectic, or when things started to feel like a little too much.

As the weeks passed on though, you started to just… Get used to the fact that you were carrying two children, and maybe it was a maternal instinct, maybe it was the fact that they were his children, or maybe it was a bit of both that had you growing excited even at the thought of having this little family with him. You couldn’t wait to tell Felix, you couldn’t wait to officially start this journey into parenthood with him by your side. It would only be a couple more days until he came back home, and now you were giddily counting down the days to tell him the exciting news.

“I think we caught every single red light on the way here.” Felix exclaimed as he trodded through the front door, his suitcases parked off to the side as he kicked off his shoes. “Hey, angel… You look beautiful as always. Did ya miss me?” He asked, the irritation that had initially coated his words seemed to be shaken off as soon as he laid eyes on you sitting on the couch. Your smile was bright as you watched him, anticipation building in your stomach and sending a shiver through you.

“Of course I did. I always miss you.” You chimed from the couch, making sure to keep yourself covered with the thick throw blanket so that he wouldn’t see your stomach. It had grown quite a lot already, something that was both shocking, but also expected considering you were having twins. “How was the flight?” You wanted to make small talk, just so he could get settled back in before you dropped the news on him, although you were quite certain he’d take it well, you just didn’t want to shock him immediately.

He rolled his shoulders and his neck, stretching his arms up as he walked into the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge to grab a bottle of water before making his way to the couch to drop down beside you. “It was good, not as comfortable as being able to sit or lay beside you, but it was bearable. Changbin didn’t snore too loud behind me, so I got a good amount of sleep so I’d be well rested when I got home to you.” His arm draped over your shoulder as he leaned against you. “I couldn’t wait to see you again.”

Now was your chance, he was in a good mood, he was rested, he was close to you, now all you had to do was tell him. “I couldn’t wait to see you either… I’ve got some pretty big news to tell you.” Even though you were almost 100% certain that he’d take it well, you couldn’t help the jitters that coursed through your body causing your voice to tremble with your nerves. His eyes widened as well as his smile, his body turning almost completely to give you his full attention before nodding to you to tell you to continue. “I’m… I’m pregnant! They're twins!”

And while your excitement seemed to grow exponentially from telling him, his dwindled to nothing almost immediately. His smile fell and his eyes wavered, his hands pulling away from yours to fold in his lap. “You’re… Sure about this? You’ve… You’ve been to the doctors and everything for it?” He questioned, and maybe he was just nervous about getting excited too soon, so you quickly nodded, reaching out to grab his hands in an act of reassurance that everything would be okay, that everything was okay, but he moved his hands away from yours, shoving them in his pockets as he jumped up off the couch. “How far along are you?” He blurted out quite harshly, and while you were used to him apologizing almost immediately after sounding so rude, the apology never came.

“I’m… Almost four months…” You whispered, slowly pulling back the blanket to show him the swell of your stomach, and you saw his chest rise, puffing out with the large breath that he took in. “It’s okay though… They’re okay, they’re healthy.” You once again tried to reassure him, assuming that his panic was caused by not being there when you found out.

“I don’t care about that! I’ve got five months to figure out how the hell I’m going to juggle my job and paying child support to not just one, but two fucking kids!” He rambled, but the mention of child support had your head tilting to the side, your lips parting to question what he meant, but you couldn’t seem to find the words. “Don’t look at me like that… You know that I can’t do this. I’m too fucking young to deal with my job and two fucking kids. I didn’t want this… You threw this on me!”

With every single word, it was like a vicious attack, and that beautiful future that you had spent the past couple weeks imagining started to spin, like a tornado, the images a whirling vortex that were sent down the drain. “I thought… I thought that you’d be happy. You always talked about having a life together… Spending forever together… Where did that go?” The sight of him rolling his eyes had your stomach tightening and your nerves kicking into overdrive. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go… This wasn’t what you had planned on at all. “I-I.. I didn’t want this either… I’m young too…”

He scoffed, his nose crinkled into a look of disgust as his eyes flickered down to your stomach and then up to your face. “I didn’t ask you to keep them. If you would have told me sooner, I would have told you to abort it, get rid of it.” It was like a stab, a gunshot, there was bile rising in your throat at the thought of getting rid of the two little beans that had become such a big part of you, you honestly couldn’t imagine not having them in your tummy. “And don’t even try to make it seem like I’m the bad guy in this. You sprung this shit on me as soon as I got back from a fucking tour… That should have been your first sign. I mean, what did you think would happen? Everything would be sunshine and rainbows and I’d be this happy go lucky guy somehow maintaining a career where I’m constantly in the fucking spotlight, during brand sponsorships and bunch of other shit… And you just… You expect me to have time for you? For children? You’ve gotta be out of your mind.”

And maybe you were, maybe you had lost sense of the reality of your relationship and how hard it was to actually see him, how little you spent time with him. Maybe you really were out of your mind as he had said, thinking that being pregnant would somehow bring him closer to you instead of pushing him away. “I wasn’t going to do that…” You mumbled, your hand moving down to rub over your stomach, seeming to be your own source of comfort now that Felix was clearly disgusted by you. “You don’t have to worry about anything… You don’t even have to pay child support. You’re right… I sprung this on you and… You obviously don’t want any parts of it. I’m not going to force you…”

Letting out a humorless chuckle, he folded his arms over his chest, glaring down at you. “Oh, sure. You say that, but once it gets to be too much for you, you’ll be trying to take me to court. It’ll make front page news online and then you’ll get the pity party. I can see it now.” It was pretty eye opening to see now just how lowly he thought of you. You had been blinded by the rays of sunshine that seemed to radiate off of him whenever he was around, but it was like you had put on sunglasses, you could block those out, and now you could see who he truly was.

“I’m not taking you to court.” You snapped, having enough of him being not just an asshole, but ruthlessly so. “You’re not the man that I thought you were, and you’re definitely not the man that I want in my children’s lives, so you don’t have to worry about me trying to force you to do anything or asking for your money. I don’t want your money, because like you said, I can see it now. All of the fans that follow you like you’re some kind of fucking god will call me a gold digger and a bunch of other awful shit, and to be quite honest, I don’t need that and neither do my kids. So once you walk out of that door, I’m done. I’m done with you and everything that has to do with you. The only part of you that I love now are the children that you gave me, the children that you don’t want.”

Your entire body was trembling, and the tears flowed freely down your cheeks. They weren’t tears of sadness though, they were tears of anger, unable to hold back the burst of emotions that coursed through you, and unable to channel them properly. “Promise?” He snidely cracked back at you, and it was the final nail in the coffin. He wasn’t who you thought he was at all, he was nothing like the way his fans portrayed him. It was all an act, and the character that he had been playing as was gone now, revealing the true Felix that you had mistakenly fallen in love with.

“Promise.” You retorted flatly, finally pushing yourself up off the couch and walking to the door, and with your back turned to him, you hadn’t caught the way he his jaw had dropped when finally seeing you fully, you hadn’t caught the way his fingers twitched to reach out to grab you, the way his eyes blinked a few times to snap him back to reality just a little too late. “I’ll pack your stuff up and leave it on the porch, I’ll text you when I’m all done, and then I’ll block your number and delete it so you don’t have to worry about me bothering you. You can move on with your life and your career.” You said as you grabbed the suitcases and wheeled them to the center of the entryway. “You already have some of your stuff to leave with.” You pulled open the front door, moving over to the side to give him room to walk out. “Bye.”

The damage was already done, and it’s not like you’d believe him or even be willing to listen if he tried to go back on his words right now, so he kept up with the act, sneering at you as he grabbed his luggage and wheeled it out the front door, stepping out onto the porch. Maybe if he turned around one last time and you saw the look of regret in his eyes you’d let him talk, but the door was already being slammed shut, and the locks clicked, and he knew that you were probably already breaking down on the couch, a complete mess because of what he had said.

There was nothing he could do now except trudge over to the side of the road, his phone gripped tightly in his shaking hands as he texted his leader, asking to be picked up. Twins… he wasn’t ready for it, he wasn’t in the right place in his life to take on that kind of responsibility… But he hadn’t even given himself a chance to try. He immediately attacked you, and maybe it was the jet lag or the stress from just coming back home and simply wanting to enjoy one evening without having something else to worry about… But none of those things were truly an excuse for what he had said or the way he behaved because you were surely more stressed than him, and now that stress had quadrupled all because of him.

Twins… Two children, his own children, little drops of sun that were part him, and part you. You, the only person who he ever loved before, the only person he could ever see himself loving… And he ruined it. A family, one that he’d never get to spend time with, that he had so easily given up on as if it wasn’t important at all. Sons… Daughters… Maybe one of each… He’d never get to meet them though. He’d never get to experience that feeling of holding his children for the first time or watching them take their first steps. He’d never feel that excitement as he bore witness to each and every milestone. He gave all of that up the second he started his rant, the second those thoughts weasel’d their way into his mind and were actually spoken. Maybe he’d watch from a distance, living the life that he turned his back on through pictures or videos that you hopefully might post online. It wouldn’t be the same… But it was all he would have, all he would ever have.

Permanent TL : @whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me

@mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin @his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc

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ghostchems · 10 months ago

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smoke break - papa emeritus iii & sibling of sin

you find solace and a private place to smoke when you are caught by the new papa.

author's notes: cranked this out because i was feeling pretty similar to reader here! hence the teensy lil break from here and discord. good thing i could turn it into some 2k words of terzo sads :') there also be some weed smokin' and cuteness. ao3 link

The high, arched window is cracked and a cool breeze seeps into the secluded hall. You’re perched on the alcove with your knees up to your chest, a joint between your fingers that is carefully angled out the window crack. This is a deeply personal ritual of yours when life becomes too much: too much gossip, too many expectations and responsibilities, too much everything. A Satanic Ministry that is a firm promoter in personal freedom is not immune to drama and tension. You take a drag of the joint, filling your lungs with smoke before giving a shaky exhale, leaning your head against the wall. You love it here — you truly do. It’s the first place you’ve ever been able to be yourself. But even the most perfect of worlds can be exhausting.

Papa Emeritus the Third would be departing for his first tour in a few weeks and everyone was in a tizzy over it. Overworking themselves to ensure every aspect (the costumes, the lighting, the finances, etc.) of his debut are perfect and in turn, causing some ruffled feathers. You truly want to be involved but you don’t want to fight for a spot among those that have already asserted their place. So, you’ve drifted away from the rehearsals and the planning meetings, finding yourself in this particular alcove a few times a week to come down from the craziness of the day. Things are changing, so much potential for the ministry and it scares you. You’ve never been here for a transition like this and the influx of new recruits that usually followed. The idea of all this to do culminating in even more members that would change the make-up of the clergy you’ve grown so used to makes your head spin.

“Sorella.”

Your hazy eyes dart up from your lap and land on Papa’s face, his eyes narrowed with the paint around them dark and angled. He is scowling, holding his hand out for the joint. You scramble to hand it to him, your words catching in your throat as you shrink beneath his gaze. Papa is dressed in his robes and mitre, his stature tall and threatening. The sharp, golden nails on his glove prick your fingers as he takes the joint from you, examining it between two fingers. Your chest tightens, certain that you’re in trouble despite the usual lax rules when it comes the marijuana. You’ve never come face to face with the new papa before but if he is anything like Secondo you are expecting a fiery temper. Instead, he brings the joint to his lips and takes a long drag from it. Your jaw nearly drops. None of the higher ups typically indulge in such decadence in this casual a setting.

Papa sighs deeply and hops up onto the alcove, his feet dangling off the ground as he removes his mitre and sets it beside him. Your eyes are glued to how his raven hair spills out from it and he quickly smooths it back into place before taking another drag of the joint.

“What are you doing in this sequestered hall of the abbey, Sorella?” His voice is smooth and friendly, giving you uninterrupted eye contact even as he hands you back your joint. You feel the smoothness of his leather gloves this time, taking the joint back and forcing your body to relax.

“Just needed some space.” You murmur, averting your eyes away from his piercing gaze. Surely Papa has something better to do than speak to you, right?

“Mmm, I understand. Everyone seems to be on these days, don’t they?” He gives you a knowing look, his lips quirking into a grin. Ah, now you see it — his charms that have swept away your fellow siblings. And now you find yourself drifting off into his allure.

“Yes, Papa, and all for your tour debut.” He nearly winces at your words.

“Not for me — for the Ministry.” Papa’s eyes crinkle and there’s a hint of bitterness in his voice. Your brows knit together, confused by his response. Then you start to get a better look at him and notice how exhaustion seems to radiate from him despite his cracked paint hiding the bags beneath his eyes. You’ve always seen Papa Emeritus as some larger than life being but seeing the Third in such a light tugs at your heartstrings. He is probably being worked to death and the expectations for success are much more pressure on him rather than the siblings of sin who are fighting over supporting him. You take a quick rip and extend the joint back out for him to take. He hesitates, then takes it and brings it to his lips.

Of course, you could be reading into things too deeply but you are familiar with his particular look of weariness.

“I’ve sat in on a few rehearsals. I think it’s safe to say some of the excitement is because of you.”

Papa’s expression softens as he puts out the joint on the window sill and flicks it out into the grass. He leans his head against the wall just as you had done and closes his eyes for a moment. Oddly comfortable silence falls over the both of you.

“It’s, eh, quite something, isn’t it?” His head lolls and tilts toward you, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Still, there are times it is difficult to be… present.” It’s hard not to smile back at him, his change in expression infectious.

“Well, I come here to feel like myself again every so often. And to smoke.” You let your own feet dangle off the alcove and wiggle in closer to him. Your gaze falls to his robes, intricate gold designs along the soft black fabric and the bright purple sleeves poking out from beneath, the urge to touch it growing stronger and stronger.

“Go on, dolcezza.” Papa’s voice drops to a low whisper, his eyes taking in the details in your face. You are fully feeling the high now, immediately reaching your hand out so your fingers can brush along the lace details of his sleeves without a second thought. He inches in closer to you, extending his arm out so you can tough even more, his shoulder firm against yours. Papa’s eyes are glued to you as you start to grow more confident, touching the golden grucifixes on the front of his robes. A purr rumbles up his chest and you feel it beneath your fingers. You lift your head and your eyes meet, a breath catching in your throat. Papa leans forward and presses his forehead into yours, a quiet moment passing between you until…

You giggle. You watch his eyes crinkle with glee and he laughs along with you. It's such a surreal moment but a funny one, nonetheless. You can’t shake how boyish Papa looks when he laughs, a contrast to how deathly serious he usually looks in his paints. The laughter starts to peter off, back to slight giggles as you lean back to your side of the alcove. Papa gives an amused exhale, book ended by a few quiet giggles. He bunches up his robe at his waist and dips his hand into the pocket of his pants. Papa gives a quiet grunt and extends his legs, stretching out so he can actually get his hand into his pocket and your eyes dart to how his shirt underneath his robes ride up his stomach, exposing a dark happy trail. It feels sinful to see so much of Papa but you can’t look away, mesmerized by his bare skin. He ends up pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket, seamlessly pulling one from the box and lighting it, setting the carton and lighter on the sill.

“I may have to steal this little ritual of yours, sorella.” He purrs with the cigarette between his lips, then takes a deep drag. “There aren’t many places for me to hide away from the eyes of Sister.” Papa’s eyes dart around the hall dramatically before giving another laugh.

“It’s all yours, Papa.” You don’t mind sharing, especially with him. It’s an odd feeling, to have your inhibitions completely stripped, overcome with a hazy high and buddying around with the most high-ranking member of the clergy. You’ve never exactly thought of a Papa being hip or spending much time with random siblings of sin **but the Third seems far more open to it. It makes you feel special. It makes you feel like he might be something special. “What will you do while on tour?”

“Oh, it is much easier to slip away when off premises.” His smile only widens. “In preparation for this role, I spent a lot of time traveling to different branches of the ministry, touring con il mio fratello… we got into a lot of trouble.” Papa chuckles as he gazes at his lit cigarette. “I could easily barricade myself in my hotel room if I truly need some me time.” You laugh, deep and hearty, and seeing his face light up from your response makes you blush. He’s charming. He’s funny. He’s loose. You can’t help but be more excited for his tenure as Papa now that you’ve seen exactly how he is. But even now, you can see his smile falter, his gaze falling back to the empty hallway.

“Papa!” Sister’s voice booms down the hall and he grits his teeth. It’s like he could sense her presence. He quickly taps out his cigarette and flicks it out the window, then jumps off the alcove.

“Eh, I guess I should not have dipped out of the budget meeting.” He shrugs with a weak smile, his robes falling perfectly back into place. You pick up his mitre for him, the weight of it heavy in your hands, handing it to him while your fingertips touch. The weariness is back in his eyes, the creases on his forehead and his frown lines more pronounced than before. You almost say something, your brain processing at a slower speed due to the weed, wanting to ask if he’s okay or needs help but you end up holding your tongue. Is it your place to ask him such things? You start to spiral in your own mind until he snaps you out of it with his smooth voice. “Until our next relaxation ritual.” He places his mitre atop his head and the transformation back to Papa Emeritus the Third is complete.

“D-don’t forget to take breaks, Papa. Everyone needs them.” You had to get it out and you almost regret saying it just from the way he eyes you after. He holds out his hand and takes yours, his thumb stroking the back of it.

“Call me Terzo, dolcezza.” But he says nothing of the breaks. And you know why — he can’t commit to taking them. Not now. Not when the weight of the ministry is on his shoulders. Not when he’s been preparing for this his entire life only for his individualism to be squashed by leadership.

Papa gives your hand a squeeze and then lets you go, his robes billowing behind him as he walks briskly to where Sister had been calling for him. So elegant yet so rushed. You look down beside you and realize he’s left his carton of cigarettes. He’s too far away now to get his attention, so you pick them up and examine them. You realize there is no discernible branding, the carton all black with some golden art deco lines. When you pop the lid open you find neatly packed rolls, obviously rolls he made himself.

You make a mental note to make sure you have them if you see him again at the alcove…

But something tells you you won’t.

#and i come bearing gifts!#papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo #terzo x reader #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfics #ghost band fanfic #ghost fanfiction #uhhh uhhhhhhh #it's only been a week and i already forget the tags i use lol

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devilfic · 8 months ago

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Reading right place, right time and found myself kicking my feet and twirling my hair at the thought of Bruce writing about the surgeon in his diary after their first encounter . 🥺😂 (Sorry, I’m being silly) 😭 but I really do wonder what he wrote. Would he have added any personal thoughts of his own or keep it about his routine? 🤔 sorry for this weird message. I love your writing 💕

this is not weird at ALL. I've been itching to talk about this! unlike in where two are joined, I'm trying not to tell any of it from bruce's perspective so that the reader can be immersed in their own pov. therefore,,, this gives me an excuse :)

when bruce gets home, he is not thinking about his diary.

in an uncharacteristic turn of events, he puts his body first and passes out on the couch in the terminus. he gets about an hour or two of sleep, something he deprived himself of in your apartment out of fear of letting down his guard.

he sort of jolts awake after that second hour, thinking that he had fallen asleep in your home. his chest heaves as he gathers his surroundings, registers the pain in his side, unaware of the hour. it takes him a few minutes to collect himself and then he's pulling off his suit piece by piece, assessing the damage at his desk. to his surprise, your stitches have held together pretty well. he pops a few main meds and pulls out his journal.

Wednesday, November 16th.

I made a miscalculation with the smugglers. The weapons they're moving are military grade, and from the communications I was able to intercept, they've got several buyers I can't afford to let get their hands on these guns.

I managed to put a dent in their inventory tonight, but for every shipment I hit, there are two more I miss. I can't be everywhere at once, which means I can't afford to lose momentum. I can't let up.

I sustained injuries from tonight including one gunshot wound. I was able to remove the bullet once I found somewhere safe to retreat, but the wound was worse than I anticipated and I struggled to keep the bleeding at bay. I made another mistake and intended on finding a place to rest—a nearby apartment I assumed to be empty—where I could at least stop the bleeding and send Alfred my location. But someone was there. Before I could escape, I passed out from the blood loss.

I must've been out for a few minutes. This stranger could have unmasked me, and I'm still not entirely sure they hadn't. Regardless, they were a doctor. They managed to stitch me up, and after some convincing, I rested in their apartment for the next three hours. I had no intention to, but I'm certain I wouldn't be writing this now if I hadn't done so. If it wasn't for them, I would be

I was desperate. I realize that now. I put myself and potentially someone else in danger. Someone who chose to help me. Their intentions seemed innocent, but I need to know for sure. I can't make any more mistakes. I won't.

after that, I think bruce just throws himself into researching you. he starts with gotham general, looks for all the surgeons, eventually finds your name, and he falls down this hole of finding out whatever he can about you: your age, where you went to school, your relatives and past jobs. he wants to know that this freak twist of fate was just that: a twist, an abnormality.

alfred finds him like that, ready to retrieve him for the tour (which bruce definitely forgot about). he's about to make a comment like "you're up early" and then he sees gauze taped to bruce's side and god, if alfred doesn't have steam blowing out of his ears by the time he's done yelling at him.

and later, when he's standing in front of you as bruce wayne, he's caught off guard again because what are the odds that you could save his life as some freak twist of fate once, only to have him run into you again not hours later?

and you're... whip-smart. kind. he hears you talk about the work you do and he can see how much you care about the people of this city. it's not in his nature to trust easily but when he gets home later that day he is poring into everything he can about you, searching for the chink in your armor. there must be something. maybe he's missed it or you're good at hiding but all of this feels too good to be true.

it takes him a few days after he finds your file for him to think it over. the stitches have held up. he's replacing his gauze in the bathroom and asks alfred if he thinks it's the right call.

"are you certain there's no one else?"

"a vigilante doctor?" bruce laughs, stretching his spine. "how would I take applications for that, exactly?"

"they're a civilian."

"they saved my life."

alfred holds his tongue, nearly chokes on it, "you must be prepared for this not to work out. or worse. you may never pick up that cowl again."

bruce stares at his hands, scarred from his long nights. he doesn't remember much after passing out, only the split second of finality and the regret that followed... until you brought him back, "I've already made peace with that."

#if you see me using a weekday that conflicts with something I said in the first chapter no you don't :)#dates and times in my fics are based on vibes only #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne headcanons #batman x reader #batman headcanons #battinson #the batman #dc #mjwrites

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wrathofrats · 10 months ago

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Thinking about Aether and Phantom quintosis lesson. It's all going well and all, Aether's letting Phant explore his head on his own a little because he's actually really talented y'know! And then he hits a particular spot and Aether goes brainless, practically drooling on spot if yk what I'm onto...

Everyone always comes to Aeth to shut their thoughts up, but now he's on the receiving end for the first time in a whiiiile and he's just gone.

Just a big brainless quint :)

Shakes you violently because I’ve been thinking about this ever since I saw it

(Warning that this is a little dubious but consent is implied and implied to have been discussed prior, just didn’t want it to come out of nowhere in case someone isn’t up for that 🫶

Also I made it weird bc confident phantom has been on my brain recently)

Aether talks him through it. Takes phantoms hands and places them on either side of his head, covering them with his own.

He trusts him under his own supervision, able to step in if something were to go wrong.

It’s easy, to aethers surprise. Phantom being able to pick at different memories, emotions, doesn’t take long for phantom to start trying to control his limbs.

“Am I doing that?” Phantoms eyes light up when aether hand moves slowly to the side.

“You are bug, good job”

Aether thinks it’s cute watching him get so excited over his powers.

Different tour memories flash in and out as phantom practically rummages through his brain like a storage bin. His face muscles twitch while phantom drags over certain nerves. Quintessence can be a dangerous game in the wrong hands, the power to as you please to someone only to be trusted in the right hands.

A particular wave of fuzz washes over aether as phantom gets a little more confident with the electricity he has wrapped around his mind. He feels cloudy, it’s not unfamiliar but he knows exactly what phantom is doing considering he’s done it to the other ghouls countless times before.

“Bug…..” aether warns taking a deep breath. He feels like there’s cotton behind his eyes, his breathing becoming deep and more manual.

Phantom prods again. A sharp buzz in the base of his skull and it’s hard for aether to get out the words to warn him again.

Phantom understands what he’s doing, especially considering this form of mind control has been done to him before. it’s the only reason aether hasn’t removed him yet but it’s a helpless and almost calming sort of feeling, looking up to see phantom smiling at him with his magic completely taking over his senses.

“Please let me take care of you?” Phantom tips aethers chin up to look at him, the other hand caressing his cheek. Aether can feel just a bit more quintessence slip in as he nods.

He’s completely brainless, barely a thought besides what’s directly in front of him and a small attempt to keep his breathing normal. It’s all he can do to keep his vision straight, mind full of static and he can’t help but smile at phantom, giggling slightly. A comfortable mindless state of pleasure.

“Never been able to have you all stupid for me have I aeth?” Phantom teases. It’s light hearted in nature but god it does something to aether. He could practically drool if he really wanted to, phantoms light teasing enough to have him salivating. Something so delicious about being able to have your thoughts shut up and being taken care of, aethers been craving it for a while.

A delicate hand pushes its way under aethers shirt. Phantom looks for any sign of protest before lifting it off of his body and discarding it on the floor beside them. Aethers immediately handsy, giggly and trying whatever he can to get phantom back on him. His limbs feel like they’re full of concrete as he tries to reach up to pull him closer. Time moves slow, almost too slow for him with the idea phantoms put into his head of him doing whatever he wants to him.

Phantom makes quick work of his own clothes while aether chews his lip, small moans escaping as phantom strips in his lap. He’s easy like this, hard and stupid and just desperate for anything from phantom he can get.

“You’re needy when you’re like this” phantom teases, reaching for the buttons on aethers pants. “Big and stupid like a whore should be”

Phantom grabs aethers hand, pulling it around his waist to finger himself with it, “your fingers are thicker than mine, gotta stretch myself out to take you baby” phantom gasps as he pushes aethers fingers into himself

It’s a tight stretch, phantom working himself with two of aethers fingers guided by his own, if he’s not careful he could probably just use aether like this and cum in his lap but oh, he wants to see how bad aeth can get when he sits on his cock.

Aethers streams out incoherent pleas and curses as phantom finally pulls him out, stroking him a couple times just to hear him whimper

“Fuck you’re much better like this, dumb and useful, just a dildo for me to use right?”

#I have so many asks yall im fucking busting these bitches OUT #I am so very in love with this concept though #STUPID AETHER MY BELOVED #he’s such a good boy #also let phantom dom he deserves it #dom phantom can be so fun there’s so many possibilities #the band ghost #ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #fanfic #wrath writes #aether ghoul #phantom ghoul

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licorice-tea · 10 months ago

Text

The Way Things Go

Pairing: Kaku x reader

Content: strawhat reader, kaku calls reader “miss”, mild smut/ implied smut, sexual innuendoes and things, huge spoilers for water 7 and enies lobby!!!

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: probably 2-3 more parts after this one… but idk yet… he’s so sleazy actually and i’m OBSESSED. anyway hope you enjoy! oh and if you want to be on the taglist (for this one or any other fics of mine) i have a post about it linked on my pinned!

Part 1

As promised, you meet Kaku in the small harbor where the Straw Hats hid the Going Merry when you all first arrived to Water 7 earlier that day. He’s already there when you arrive, and praises the craftsmanship of the ship from a distance. You answer all his questions about the ship- or as many as you’re able to, at least. Which brings about the question of “Who takes care of the damages?” so you have to explain how you haven’t really been able to get any repairs as long as you’ve all had her.

The two of you board the Going Merry, only to find Zoro “sleeping.” He cracks an eye open as the two of you walk by and almost says something to Kaku, who’s a stranger to the swordsman, then sees you and simply shrugs before dozing off once more.

Kaku observes certain parts of the ship, like the mast and even the floorboards, eventually having assessed nearly every area of the deck. Then he asks you to show him below deck, which you do, and give him a tour of the various rooms. He mainly just checks out the port windows and things like that, until you’ve gone through every room in the lower levels- well, all except one. When you reach the end of a particular hall and then turn back without letting him in to the room behind you, he points and asks, “And what might that room be?”

“Oh, that’s just my room.”

“Ah… I’d hate to intrude but, I do need to see all of the ship.” He doesn’t. He already knows this vessel is past the point of no return- it’s a miracle it’s even floating on the water right now. However, Kaku doesn’t want to tell you that quite yet. He’d hate to disappoint you and…. ruin his chances. Plus, he’s a little very curious to see what your room is like.

“… Um, just give me a second then, ok?” You excuse yourself into your room, and begin tidying up at a shocking speed. It’s already pretty neat actually, but you still go around the entire room making sure nothing is out of place. Once you’re sure there’s nothing lying about that shouldn’t be, you open the door to find him leaning in the frame. “Sorry about that, you can come in now.”

“No need to apologize, miss y/n. Kaku slips past you into your room- “Gosh, what a treat!” he thinks. Like this little glimpse into your private space is really a view of your mind, too. He makes his way over to the port window in slow strides, taking the opportunity to look at all of your little trinkets and decorations.

“Nice place you’ve got here.”

“Thanks… I don’t usually bring guys straight to my room on a first date.” You mean it as a joke, but he takes it in full stride.

“Oh yeah? I guess I should count myself lucky then.”

“I… mhm.”

Kaku laughs, “So, maybe I’ll get extra lucky later on. “

“Sorry?”

“Don’t be.” He looks over at you, pausing his inspection of the port window and how stable (?) it is. “Just joshing you, miss, I should be the one apologizing for my… crude joke.”

You shrug and mumble under your breath, “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh?” He walks closer, trapping you in the space between your bed and the wall and himself. It’s barely enough room for one person to stand in if they’re perpendicular to your bed, since it’s just a narrow space. (You have a sort of rational fear of waking up to water leaking through the wall and straight onto you and your sheets, so pushing the bed out a bit was a natural solution.) “Not a bad idea, or not a bad joke?”

“Not a bad-“

He cuts you off with his lips on yours, it waiting to hear your reply. Kaku wants you, and he knows he won’t get much time with you between everything that’s about to go down with CP9 (unbeknownst to you.) It’s sudden, and already quite deep right off the bat. His head is tilted more than a person usually would tilt their head upon entering a kiss to compensate for the length of his nose, but he’s anything but embarrassed- so long as it brings him closer to you and faster, it’s worth the strain on his neck. You would giggle if you weren’t so caught off guard by how he seems to overtake all your senses in mere moments. As proof of the shock to your system, the immediate closeness of the kiss leads you to open your lips in a slight gasp. Kaku sighs contentedly before sucking at your bottom lip, and you to hum in surprise. His hands find their place on the small of your back, and the tips of his fingers travel up and down your spine. You accept him, letting him continue sucking and smothering your lips with his while throwing your arms around his neck. It’s all happening very fast- but you like it.

After a few moments he pulls away, breathing heavily with a thin line of saliva still connecting your lips to his. He swipes it away by brushing his thumb over your lips, and wiping it off on the side of his pants (though still holding around your back with one hand.)

“What-“

“I hope you’ll excuse my-“ he pauses due to his panting, “rushing into things.”

“Y-yeah it’s fine, I was just…” his lips ghost over yours once more, so close you can feel his breath fanning over your skin. “Surprised.”

This time, you’re the one to close the distance and tighten your arms around his shoulders. There’s an underlying sense of need, somewhere deep within you, that hadn’t been there when you’d first walked onto the ship. No, it was his actions and words- the way he looked at you now with such a want in his eyes- that caused this. Of course, you’d already been attracted to him, but you certainly wouldn’t have been the one to make the first move like he had so early on. Yet here you are, making out with a man you just met earlier in the day.

But then you feel his knee slotting itself between your legs, and whine before you come to your senses. You push down his thigh, “We can’t.”

“Mmph- why not?”

“I just met you.”

He chuckles, though it’s more evident in the shake of his shoulders than any audible laughter. “That would be a mighty fine reason.”

“Yeah… I- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, y/n. Is it ok if I just call you that?”

You smile and nod. Two seconds ago his tongue was in your mouth, now he’s asking for permission to drop formalities- funny guy.

“Well, y/n, I don’t know how long you’ll be in town for, nor how busy I’ll be with work. I want to make the most of this time together.”

Kaku had known this was a bad idea from the start, in all honesty. But when Robin begged Spandam for safe passage for her crew-her friends- out of Water 7, and he’d seen your bounty poster along with the others, he was “struck by Cupid’s arrow.” And getting to meet you in person by coincidence was even better. He had fallen hard and fast, and now he wanted to keep things moving that way before you were gone from his life forever.

However, in fear of making you uncomfortable, he pulls away. Kaku makes it all the way to the other side of the room before you do something that surprises even yourself. You grab his wrist and walk backwards to your bed again, this time lowering yourself to sit on the plush comforter.

His hand interlocks with yours as you let yourself fall back completely. “You… are you sure, y/n?”

You nod. “I’m sure.” And, like the comedian you are, ask “Why? Do you not want to anymore?”

Kaku’s eyes roam over your body, all laid out just for him. His fingers trace your side and come to rest on your hip, giving you a gentle squeeze. “N-no, I want to. I want you.”

With the hand he isn’t inadvertently pining to the bed, you draw his face closer to yours so you can kiss him again. He exhales shakily and all but climbs on top of you, slotting his knee between your legs once more.

You pray, for Zoro’s sake above deck, that he isn’t too loud a lover.

Taglist: @imaginarydreams

#fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece #x reader #kaku x reader #op kaku #kaku one piece #kaku #fluff #mild smut

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profoundbondfanfic · 4 months ago

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Hello there!

Can you please recommend some of the angstiest, filled-with-pining, slowest burning destiel fics (91w-esque sort of)? I want to feel the pain and pining (and eventual happiness).

Thank you! Have a lovely day <3

Hey there! Here are a few:

I Wanna Get Outside (Of Me) by emwebb17 (Explicit, 142k words)

Dean is a novice in the dom/sub world asked by his employer as a desperate last resort to be a sub for his recluse of a brother, Castiel. Castiel is a diagnosed OCD suffering from PTSD and agoraphobia, mysophobia, and dystychiphobia. Needless to say—he’s a mess who hasn’t stepped out of his home in literally seven years. The only times Gabriel can see traces of the way his brother used to be is when he feels in control—specifically when he has control over a sub. However, due to his idiosyncrasies and paranoia, keeping a sub around has been impossible. Enter Dean, who’s not a very traditional submissive, to try his hand at subbing for the hermit.

For Evermore by casblackfeathers (Explicit, 110k words)

There's no place like home. This was a line Castiel used to know by heart when he was a kid, watching The Wizard of Oz and believing fairytales were real. At thirty-one years old, he isn't a kid anymore, and it has been twelve years since he has known what home feels like. Twelve years. That's when his world had come crashing down and he had left his hometown, Holly Springs, with the broken pieces of what he once was to build a new life in San Francisco. But as circumstances force him to come back to the only place he swore he would never return to, Castiel is finally forced to face everything he once knew and loved. Especially when said everything is made of spring-green eyes and a stardust of freckles, wrapped in all the memories Castiel was not able to erase from his heart. After twelve years, Dean is as mesmerizing as Castiel remembers, but the scars of what was broken still run as deeply as the marrow of his bones, and Castiel will do everything he can to protect himself. After all, his favorite movie also taught him that 'until hearts can be made unbreakable,' he can’t listen to his own.

Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) by sobsicles (Explicit, 66k words)

When he wakes, he has no idea who he is. Not his name, what he looks like, or why he’s flat on his back, staring up at the stars littering the night sky. The first thing he learns about himself is that he has shitty instincts, especially if his first one is to protect the blue-eyed man currently stabbing someone in the face. Or, the story where two strangers can’t agree on much and know even less, but they’re both fairly certain that they’re in love.

On The Other Side by crowleyhasfeels, QuillsAndInk (Explicit, 63k words)

While deployed in Afghanistan, Dean Winchester writes letters to a girl who he's certain isn't listening. By chance, they are found by Professor Castiel Novak who takes the time to reply. Thus begins the tale of a man dragged back from the brink of destruction by the shattered pieces of one person he doesn't know how to love. This is a story of brokenness, love and triumph. This is the story of Dean and Cas.

Out of the Deep by riseofthefallenone (Explicit, 488k words)

Stay away from the light-beds. Stay in the deep. It is the first thing hatchlings are taught the moment their fans unfurl and they can swim without their parents to buoy them along. It is the first rule, the first law. It is the beginning of every boogey-monster bedtime story told when they settle against the cliffs to sleep. Castiel should have listened better.

Pick It All Up by thepinupchemist (Explicit, 126k words)

Army veteran Castiel Novak is a wreck after his tour in Afghanistan, brought home to his brother’s apartment in Lawrence, Kansas with scars both mental and physical. He copes poorly, and during one night of bad decision making, meets somebody just as much of a disaster as he is – a prostitute named Dean Winchester. And suddenly, two damaged men might not be as irreparable as they believed.

Quarantension by everandanon (Explicit, 293k words)

In which Dean and Cas weather quarantine together like any Good Friends would — by developing outstanding skills in self-deception and providing all the casual affection and strictly platonic* orgasms the other could possibly need to make it through.** *Really not platonic **Spoiler: They need a lot.

Redemption Road by Various (Explicit, 652k words)

With Castiel having set himself up as the new God, drunk on power and volatile as a nuclear reactor, Dean, Sam, and Bobby find themselves on the run from the jealous, capricious monster wearing the face of their friend. Desperate for protection and wary of his brother’s mental state since Castiel unlocked Sam’s memories of Hell, Dean knows Castiel must be defused before he can wreak further havoc in Heaven or on Earth. Although Bobby advocates for destroying Castiel by whatever means necessary, Dean is convinced the Cas he once knew still remains, buried somewhere beneath the mass of poisonous souls and calling out for help. Determined to save the angel who once rescued him from Hell and redefined his purpose in life, Dean himself must resist the allure of the false deity vying for his obedience, and come to terms with the knowledge, long-suppressed, that his feelings for Castiel run much deeper than brotherhood. It is this bond, and the dubious distinction of the Righteous Man, that will ultimately grant Dean access to where Castiel’s grace languishes in Purgatory. However, what Dean brings back with him is broken, angry, and only half-angel, certainly not the Castiel he remembers—and nor is it the only thing that returns to Earth with them…

So Says The Sword by komodobits (Explicit, 85k words)

The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’ Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected.

Stay With Me, Sweetheart by MandalaRose (Explicit, 142k words)

“Alright Cas, here comes the hard part. We’re gonna get you out of here, but we’ve gotta take the roof off and while we do that, we’re gonna have to cover you with a sheet to protect you from the glass. I’ll be right here though. I’m not going anywhere.” As he starts to drift away, he suddenly feels the press of Dean’s forehead against his own through the rough fabric and hears that warm, sunlit voice murmer quietly in his ear, too low to be overheard by the firefighters currently working to remove the SUV’s roof, “Stay with me, Sweetheart.” A single moment’s distraction ends with a serious car accident that leaves Castiel trapped in his vehicle. Fortunately for him, fire fighter Dean Winchester is there, never leaving Castiel’s side as the rest of his company work to free him from the mangled remains of his SUV. When the two meet again in the ICU, Castiel finds himself just as drawn to and comforted by the handsome fireman as he was during his accident. Dean is certainly attractive, but single father Castiel doesn’t have time or space in his life for a romantic relationship. Then again, there’s no harm in making a new friend, is there?

The Sawdust Men by linoresearch (Explicit, 123k words)

Castiel Novak is an inmate at a labour camp. Life is brutal and no one ever gets out. Castiel’s only goal is to go unnoticed by the barbaric guards, and the violent inmates. Dean Winchester is a soldier without a purpose since the civil war ended. Dean accepts an assignment at a labour-camp, under the mentorship of Alistair, the Commander. From the start, Dean and Castiel are drawn to each other, and their relationship develops in a way that changes their lives. But Alistair has his own plans for Dean, and Castiel is a complication. When Alistair fails to separate them through threats and violence, he turns to manipulation; feeding Dean’s confusion about his feelings for Castiel, and goading him into a terrible act in order to break him. As Dean and Castiel try to fight back, they uncover secrets that are more far-reaching than they ever imagined. In such a dangerous world, can they ever be together? Can they even survive?

#asks #group rec #angst with a happy ending #pining!castiel #pining!dean #slow burn

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formulas-bitch · 7 months ago

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Come Back Home - Charles leclerc X leclercsibling/reader

4.9k words

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the concrete floor of the garage. It was always like this, Charles thought, when his older sister, Emily, returned home from her latest tour in the army. There was a certain air of anticipation, of excitement, that seemed to fill the room, as if the very walls themselves were vibrating with the energy of her presence. Even the old, rusty tools hanging on the walls appeared to glisten under her watchful gaze, as if they too were proud to be a part of her story.

Charles could feel his heart race with a mixture of nerves and joy as he watched Emily walk towards him. Her uniform was spotless, her posture straight and tall, her hair tied back in a tight bun that emphasized her sharp features. Her eyes, a deep shade of blue that he had inherited, sparkled with an unmistakable twinkle of pride. She held out her hand to him, and without a second thought, Charles took it, feeling the warmth and strength of her grip.

"You look great, Emily!" he exclaimed, unable to hide his grin. "I can't believe you're finally home!"

Emily smiled warmly at her little brother. "I missed you too, Charles. I've been thinking about that race of yours. You know, if you want, I could give you a few pointers. I mean, I might be a bit out of practice, but I've got some experience under my belt."

Charles' eyes widened in excitement. "Really?" he asked, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. "That would be amazing! I've been practicing a lot, but it's always better when someone who's been there can help you."

Emily nodded, her expression softening. "Of course, little brother. I remember when you were just a kid, always tagging along with me to the track. I never imagined you'd grow up to be such a talented driver." She placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "We'll make a great team, you and me."

As they walked out of the garage and into the warm evening air, Emily glanced over at the dusty old trophy case by the side of the house. There, amidst the faded ribbons and tarnished medals, were a few shining reminders of her own racing days. She'd never won anything quite as impressive as the prize Charles was vying for, but she knew that didn't matter. Her pride in her little brother's accomplishments far outweighed any lingering feelings of envy or regret.

They made their way to the track, the familiar smell of hot rubber and burning fuel filling their noses. Emily's eyes scanned the course, analyzing the turns and the jumps, the potential hazards and the ideal lines. She'd spent so much time here, honing her skills, pushing herself to the limit. Now, standing here beside her brother, she realized that it had all been worth it.

"So," Emily said, as they walked along the fence, "tell me about your competition. Anyone I should keep an eye out for?"

Charles nodded, his expression a mix of determination and nerves. "Well, there's this one kid, Max, who's been winning everything lately. He's really good, but I think I can beat him. I've been practicing really hard, and I've got you to help me now." He glanced sideways at Emily, a hopeful smile playing on his lips.

Emily placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I believe in you, Charles," she said, her voice steady and calm. "I know you can do this. And even if you don't win, remember that it's about having fun and challenging yourself. That's what matters most." She gave him a wink, trying to ease some of the pressure he was feeling.

As they continued to walk along the fence, they came across a familiar-looking car, its paintjob faded and its tires worn thin. Emily recognized it immediately as Max's car, the one that had given her brother so much trouble during practice. "Hmm," she mused, "it looks like your competition could use a little help too. Maybe I could take a look at his car before the race and see if there's anything we can do to give you an edge."

Charles' eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" he asked, unable to hide his excitement. "That would be amazing! I mean, I don't want to take advantage or anything…"

Emily smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about it, Charles. It's not about taking advantage. We're here to help each other out, remember? Besides, if we can help Max improve his car, it'll only make the race that much more interesting." She glanced over at the car, her eyes assessing its condition. "Let's take a look at it, shall we?"

Together, they approached Max's car, and Emily began to inspect it carefully. She checked the tire pressure, the alignment, and even took a look under the hood. After a few minutes of examination, she pulled out a rag and began to wipe away some of the grime from the engine. "This car has a lot of potential," she said to Charles, "but it's not being used to its fullest. If I were you, I'd focus on these few areas." She pointed to a worn-out suspension and a faulty spark plug. "With some TLC and a few simple adjustments, this car could be unstoppable."

Charles nodded, his eyes shining with determination. "Thanks, Emily. You don't know what this means to me." He paused, his expression growing more serious. "Listen, I've been thinking… I know you're my big sister and all, but what if we were to team up? I mean, not just for this race, but for future ones too? We could be unbeatable together."

Emily considered his words carefully. She had always been close to her little brother, but the idea of actually racing alongside him had never crossed her mind. It was an intriguing prospect, but she wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do. "It's a nice idea, Charles," she said finally, "but you need to remember that we're still competing against each other today. I can't help you win the race if it means losing it myself. and also i never know when i will be called back to base and go on tour again."

Charles nodded, understanding her dilemma. "I get it," he said, his voice softening. "But maybe…maybe we could just see how today goes, and then talk about it afterwards? You know, if we both do well and have fun, who knows what could happen?" He flashed her a hopeful smile.

Emily smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "Okay," she agreed, surprised by how much she wanted to make this work. "We'll see how it goes. And even if we don't end up teaming up, I promise I'll always be your biggest fan, no matter what."

As they continued to walk around the car, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with her brother. They had always been close, but this newfound understanding and trust was something special. She could tell that Charles felt the same way, his movements more confident and his posture more erect.

The race finally began, and both Emily and Charles took their places at the starting line. Their engines revved in unison, and the air was filled with the smell of burning rubber and hot metal. As the flag dropped, they roared forward, their tires squealing against the pavement.

Emily and Charles stayed close together, watching each other's every move. They weaved in and out of traffic, avoiding potholes and other obstacles with ease. They could feel the tension between them, a mixture of determination and sibling rivalry. But they also felt a newfound respect for each other, a mutual understanding that they were in this together.

As they raced past the halfway mark, Emily began to pull ahead slightly. She glanced back at Charles, hoping he was doing alright, but didn't want to lose focus on the track. Suddenly, she heard a loud pop from his engine, and saw him slowing down. "Charles!" she shouted over the radio. "What's wrong?"

Charles gritted his teeth as he fought to keep the car under control. "I think I blew a tire," he replied, his voice strained. "I'm going to pull over and see if I can fix it."

Emily felt a pang of guilt as she watched her brother struggle. She knew how much this race meant to him, and she didn't want to be the reason he lost. She considered stopping as well, but she didn't want to give up her lead. Instead, she radioed back, "Don't worry about it, Charles. Just focus on getting the car fixed. I'll keep an eye on things until you're back."

As she continued to race, Emily couldn't help but keep glancing back over her shoulder. Each time she looked, she could see Charles frantically working on his car, trying to get it back up and running. The delay gave her a slight lead, but she knew it wouldn't last forever. She had to keep pushing if she wanted to win this race.

The track twisted and turned, winding its way through the lush greenery of the countryside. Emily expertly navigated the turns, her tires squealing against the pavement as she forced them to break traction. She could feel the engine beneath her, purring contentedly despite the recent setback. She knew that if she could just make it to the finish line, she had a good chance of winning.

In the distance, she could see Charles' car slowly making its way back onto the track. His progress was steady, but it was clear that he was struggling to keep up with her pace. Still, she couldn't help but feel a surge of pride watching him battle his way back into the race.

The finish line came into view, and Emily redoubled her efforts, pushing her car to its limits. She knew that she had to maintain her lead if she wanted to win. The stands were packed with spectators, their cheers echoing across the track as they urged her on. She could feel the heat of the sun beating down on her helmet, but she refused to let it distract her.

Behind her, Charles was gaining ground steadily, his car running more smoothly now that he had fixed the tire. The determination in his eyes was unmistakable as he closed in on her, inching closer with each passing second. Emily could feel her heart racing, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through her veins.

As they neared the finish line, the cheers from the crowd grew louder, their voices a deafening roar that seemed to envelop the entire world. Emily glanced over at Charles, her heart in her throat as she wondered if she would manage to hold on. With a final burst of speed, she crossed the finish line, her tires squealing in protest as she slid sideways. She looked up to see Charles just inches behind her, his face contorted in a grimace of determination.

The race officials waved their checkered flags, signaling the end of the race. Emily slowly pulled her car to a stop, her heart still racing, her muscles aching from the effort. She climbed out of the car, her helmet in her hands, and took a deep breath. She glanced around, searching for her brother, and saw him emerge from his car a few feet away. His face was flushed with exertion and emotion, and there was a mixture of pride and disappointment in his eyes.

They met each other halfway, clasping hands in a gesture of camaraderie and understanding. "I'm sorry, Charles," Emily said, her voice hoarse from shouting over the engine. "I didn't mean to cause you to blow your tire."

Charles smiled, his expression softening. "It's alright, sis. You didn't do it on purpose. Besides, you helped me realize that I can still keep up with you." He glanced at the track, a distant look in his eyes. "I'm just sorry I couldn't pull ahead this time."

The two of them stood there for a moment, lost in their thoughts. The sound of the crowd slowly faded away, replaced by the gentle rustle of the leaves in the trees and the occasional hushed voice. Emily reached up and adjusted her helmet, feeling the sweat beading on her forehead. She knew that despite their sibling rivalry, she and Charles were a team. They always had been. all of a sudden Emily hears her phone ringing and sees it is her captain from the army calling.

"Sorry about that, Charles. I'd better take this. It's probably about my orders or something." Emily says, already walking a few steps away from her brother. She answers the call, pressing the phone against her ear. "Hello, Captain. What's up?"

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line before the captain replies, his voice grave. "I'm afraid I have some news, Emily. Your unit has received orders for a deployment. You're to report to base immediately for processing." Emily feels a chill run down her spine. "But, I thought… I mean, I was supposed to be here for the rest of the season. What about my brother's race?"

The captain hesitates for a moment. "I'm sorry, Emily, but these orders are top priority. You need to put your training first. We'll work something out with your brother's race, but for now, you need to focus on getting to base." He gives her the details of where to go and when, and then hangs up the phone.

Emily feels a mixture of shock, fear, and guilt wash over her. She glances over at Charles, who is watching her with a concerned expression. "I've got to go, Charles," she says, her voice barely audible. "The army's sending me into deployment." She takes a deep breath and tries to steady her racing heart.

Charles's face falls, and he steps forward to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "It's alright, Em. We'll get through this together. You're not going alone." He pauses, looking at her seriously. "I'll race for both of us now. I promise."

Emily looks up at him, tears welling in her eyes. She knows he's right; they've always been there for each other. "Thank you, Charles. I love you." She returns his hug, feeling the familiar weight of his arm across her shoulders.

Together, they walk back to their pit area, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the empty space. Emily can't help but feel a sense of loss, not just for herself, but for Charles as well. She knows that this will change everything for them.

As they approach their cars, they see their mom and siblings waiting for them, concern etched on their faces. Emily's older brother puts his arm around their mother's shoulders, offering what little comfort he can. Charles's mother reaches out to him, her hand trembling as she wipes away a tear.

The two of them get into their cars, Charles taking the lead as they pull out of the parking lot. Emily looks over at him, noticing the determination in his eyes as he focuses on the road ahead. She can tell that he's not just racing for himself anymore; he's racing for her too.

Their mother and siblings follow close behind, their mother's tears silent but steady as she watches her two children drive away. Emily's brother drives a bit more slowly, occasionally glancing into the rearview mirror to check on his sister.

The race track stretches out before them, the sun dipping lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the track. Charles takes a deep breath and focuses on the task at hand. He shifts gears, pressing his foot harder against the accelerator as he speeds up, his car whipping around the turns with precision. Emily watches him from the passenger seat, a mixture of awe and pride filling her heart.

In the car behind them, their siblings talk quietly among themselves, trying to distract their mother from the tension of the moment. They know that this race is more than just a race for Charles; it's a way for him to honor his sister's sacrifice and to show the world what they can achieve together.

Their mother, though quiet, is fiercely proud of both of her children. She wipes her eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. She remembers the day Emily left for basic training, how proud she was to see her daughter stand tall and strong. And now, she watches Charles race with the same mix of awe and pride.

and now she has to watch her only daughter be shipped out again and prays she make to back home safe.

Emily leans forward in her seat, her knuckles white as she grips the dashboard. She can feel the tension in her body, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She's not the one driving, but she feels like she is. Every move Charles makes, every decision he makes behind the wheel, feels personal to her. She can't help but wonder if this is how he feels when he's on the track with her.

Their mother glances up at the sky, watching the shadows grow longer. She wonders if Emily is thinking of her at this moment, if she can see the sky the same way. Perhaps they're both looking up at the same stars, hoping that one day they'll be able to watch Charles race together again.

Charles speeds past the finish line, his car screeching to a halt as he crosses it. He jumps out of the car, his heart racing and his lungs burning. His eyes dart around, searching for his family in the stands. their brothers are already there, clapping and cheering, their mother close behind. They spot Charles and their faces light up, relief and pride washing over them.

Emily watches from the pit area, her heart in her throat. She knows Charles did his best, and that's all she could have ever asked for. As he waves to them, she waves back, feeling a sense of accomplishment and love wash over her. Their mother stands up, wiping away a tear, and gestures for them to join her. They hurry over, their siblings forming a protective circle around them.

Their mother takes Emily's hand in hers, her grip firm and reassuring. "I'm so proud of both of you," she says, her voice cracking. "You did her proud, Charles. And you, Emily, you've been his strength when he needed it most. You've both shown such courage and resilience."

Charles squeezes his sister's shoulder, feeling the weight of their mother's words. "Thanks, Mom. And Em, you have no idea how much I appreciate everything you've done. You've been my rock, my inspiration. I couldn't have done it without you."

emily wipes her eyes as she pulls her mother and brothers in a hug.

" now lets get out of here and grab some dinner before i have to report back to base"

Their mother smiles through her tears, nodding in agreement. "Of course. We'll celebrate tonight, just like you wanted." She turns to her oldest son. "Arthur , why don't you and Emily go with Charles to pick up some food? We'll head straight home and get everything ready?."

Arthur nods, stepping forward. "Sounds good, Mom. We'll be back in a jiffy." He turns to Emily, offering her his arm. "Shall we?" They begin to walk towards Charles' car, a light breeze rustling through the trees behind them.

Charles pulls up to a local food truck park, parking his car between two brightly colored vehicles. The aroma of various cuisines fills the air, making their stomachs rumble in anticipation. "So, Em, what do you feel like getting?" he asks, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Emily shrugs, her mind already wandering to the dinner table at home with their family. "I'm not really sure. Whatever sounds good to you, I guess."

Charles nods, glancing at the menu board above the truck. "Hmm, I'm in the mood for some Mexican tonight. How does that sound? Chicken tacos, maybe some quesadillas?"

Emily smiles, feeling her stomach growl in agreement. "That sounds delicious. I'm sure Mom would love some help with the dinner too."

They step up to the window, watching as the friendly food truck owner takes their order. As they wait for the food, they lean against the car, enjoying the warm evening air. "Hey, Charles, I wanted to thank you again for letting me come with you today. I know it's not easy for you, being away from everything and everyone back home."

Charles shrugs, trying to downplay his emotions. "Hey, it's fine. I'm glad you're here. I'd rather have you by my side than anyone else. Besides, it helps me remember what I'm fighting for." He pauses, looking at Emily seriously.

Their food arrives, they grab it and start driving home.

"I'm sure you'll make a great soldier when you're back in the field," Enzo says, taking a bite of his quesadilla. "I mean, you're already so strong and brave. And I know Dad is so proud of you and remember he is always watching you em"

Emily feels a lump in her throat as she listens to Enzo. She knows he's right; their father is always watching over them, and she wants to make him proud. She takes a bite of her taco, savoring the flavors and the warmth it brings to her insides. As they continue to eat, she can't help but feel a sense of pride and love for her family. They've been through so much together, and she knows they'll always be there for each other.

as soon as they finish their dinner Emily stands up from the table

and hugs her mother and brothers tightly before leaving to go back to base. she kisses her mother on the cheek and tells her that she loves her. she walks with Charles to his car and they drive off in silence. as they pull up to the gate, Charles turns to Emily and says, "you know, em, you're not just my sister. you're my best friend. and i want you to know that I'm always here for you, no matter what. if you ever need someone to talk to, or just want to hang out, you know where to find me." Emily smiles at him through her tears and says, "thank you, Charles. i feel the same way about you. and I'm always here for you, too. little brother. take care of everyone for me ok, and make sure to take care of your self too alright?"

He nods, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. They get out of the car and hug tightly once more before Charles heads back to his car. Emily watches him go, wiping away the tears that fall silently down her cheeks. Even though they're apart now, she knows that they'll always be connected.

As she walks towards the base, she can't help but feel a sense of determination growing inside her. She's going to make it through this, for her family, for Charles, and for their father who is always watching over them. She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and marches forward with renewed purpose.

Emily arrives at her barracks, dropping her duffel bag onto her bunk with a sigh. The familiar sounds of soldiers going about their duties fill the air, but she hardly notices them as she lies down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. .

The days blur together in a haze of training exercises and long nights. Emily throws herself into her work, determined to prove herself as a soldier and make her father proud. But even as she pushes herself to the limit, she can't shake the feeling that she's missing something important. Something that was once a constant presence in her life.

She tries to stay in touch with Charles as much as possible, sending him letters and care packages whenever she can. In return, he sends her stories about their mother and brothers back home, about their father's garden and the new puppy they've adopted. Their conversations are brief but filled with love and support.

soon Emily is off to Iraq to start her tour.

The days in Iraq are long and brutal. The heat is relentless, and the dust seems to get into everything. Emily spends most of her time patrolling the streets, keeping an eye out for danger. At night, she huddles in her tent, trying to sleep amidst the constant hum of generators and the occasional gunfire.

She finds solace in the letters from Charles and her family back home. Their words are a lifeline, reminding her of the love and support that she has waiting for her when this is all over. In one particularly heartfelt letter, Charles tells her about a time when they were kids and they would go fishing with their father. They would spend hours by the riverbank, laughing and telling stories, and their father would always cook up their catch for dinner. Reading this, Emily feels a pang of longing for those simpler times.

As the weeks turn into months, Emily begins to see the impact of her service on those around her. She meets soldiers who have been through multiple tours, their eyes haunted by the memories of what they've seen and done. She tries to be strong for them, to be the steady presence that they can rely on, but sometimes she feels so young and inexperienced. She wishes she could talk to her father about it, but she knows he's not here anymore.

One day, as she's sitting in the makeshift chapel, writing a letter to Charles, she notices a familiar face in the corner. It's Sergeant Johnson, the veteran who has been giving her extra training. Something in his eyes tells her that he understands what she's going through, and without a word, he comes over and sits beside her. They sit in silence for a while, listening to the chaplain's voice as he reads from a worn book. Finally, Emily musters the courage to speak.

"Sergeant Johnson," she begins, "I don't know why you're even talking to me. I'm just a rookie, and I don't know half of what you've been through." He looks at her kindly, his eyes creased at the corners from a lifetime of smiling and frowning.

"Ah, Emily, you're not a rookie. You've been here, through this, just as much as anyone else. You're just new to it. And that's the important thing. You're here now, you're doing your job, and you're making a difference. You don't need to have been through ten tours to know that." He pauses, looking out the window at the dusty, barren landscape beyond. "Look, Emily, I've seen a lot of people come and go through here. Some of them…they just couldn't handle it. They couldn't find their footing. But you're different. You're strong. You've got a good head on your shoulders. and you have lead many tour to successes "

" So and with that me and the board have seen all the hard work and dedication you have put after each and every tour that we have decided to announce you as first lieutenant"

"Wait, what?!" Emily exclaims, her eyes widening in surprise. "But I'm not even halfway through my tour!"

Sergeant Johnson chuckles. "Ah, you're a quick learner, that's for sure. But you've earned it, Emily. You've earned it ten times over. And I can't think of anyone I'd rather have by my side as my second-in-command." He puts a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Now, let's go tell the others. They're going to be just as pleased as I am."

As they walk back to their base, Emily feels a strange mix of emotions coursing through her. Excitement, of course, but also a deep sense of responsibility. She knows that she still has a long way to go, and that there are countless challenges yet to face. But with Sergeant Johnson's guidance and the support of her new family here in the army, she knows that she can make it through.

The news of her promotion spreads like wildfire through the base, and the looks of surprise and admiration on her fellow soldiers' faces are enough to make her heart swell with pride. She spends the rest of the day sharing stories and laughter with them, feeling more a part of this unit than she ever thought possible.

Emily is quick to write a letter to her family telling them of her promotion and how she is doing.

As the days turn into weeks, Emily finds herself growing more comfortable in her new role as first lieutenant. She spends countless hours planning missions and training exercises, pouring her heart and soul into making sure that her soldiers are prepared for anything they might face. Her father's words echo in her mind: "A good leader isn't born, Emily. They're made." And so, she strives to be the best leader she can be, learning from her mistakes and always seeking the counsel of Sergeant Johnson when she needs it.

The landscape around them slowly begins to change as the seasons pass. The once barren earth turns green with life, and the skies grow heavy with the promise of rain. Even in the midst of war, there is beauty to be found, and Emily takes solace in the small moments of peace that these changes bring. She finds herself thinking more and more about her family back home, and the day when she'll finally be able to return to them.

anyone a part two maybe????

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