#i need it to be messy and uncomfortable and scary. i need it to feel like picking gravel from a wound. like the sting of antiseptic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trippinsorrows · 3 months ago

Text

looking through your eyes + ten

authors note: i think ya'll will be pleased with majority of this chapter. as far as the ending scene, let me know what ya'll think roman should do. i have it already planned, but i'm always so curious reading other perspectives. btw, they've been married almost four months, for context.

also, to those who want to know about the subplot of solana's bitch ass daddy plotting to kill roman....it's still a subplot. stay tuned.

passages from 'the courage to heal' do not belong to me.

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

cw/tw: violence against women, references to csa, character briefly discussing csa, fluff, angst, language, and suggestive themes

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

masterlist

words: 10k (no comment)

Learning to be intimate is rewarding, but it is not always comfortable. As one woman said, “I kept myself safe, but I also kept myself alone.” Becoming intimate means peeling back the layers of protection to let someone in. It means going to the place where you’re comfortable and then taking one step more. One step, not twenty.

Solana must read the passage at least half a dozen times, sitting with the words, meditating with them and doing her best to cope with the discomfort she’s experienced at various points while working her way through the book that’s brought an equal amount of questions as it has answers.

She knew right away going into this section, Healthy Intimacy, that it would most likely be the hardest chapter for her. But not even for the reasons that she initially thought, reasons that would have been the case before a certain Roman Reigns entered her life.

Every day that passes with him seems to bring about a new level of comfort, a new slice of happiness, a new type of contentment.

She enjoys talking with him and being around him. She looks forward to his meeting her at the end of work and struggles with endless worry when he doesn’t make it back home until the wee hours of the night.

His touch, whether that’s his hand on her back or both hands on her waist as he holds her against him, no longer triggers an automatic tense, uncomfortable feeling. Somewhere along the way, the need to identify his touch as ‘safe’ waned and was replaced with an automatic knowing. Like she knows that it’s okay for him to touch her, because she’s safe. Because she’s safe with him.

That, along with her continued and also growing attraction, has caused her to think more and more what it could be like to be with someone in that way. The thoughts have been fleeting, far and few over the years, typically followed up with abject horror. But lately….lately she’s been less and less scared and more and more hopeful.

Optimistic that maybe….just maybe, she could one day know what that’s like. To have that experience in a healthy and non-traumatic way with a safe person. With someone who truly desires her in said healthy way.

Someone….someone like Roman.

It’s scary and terrifying and exciting and nerve racking and moving and every other emotion to exist, but on top of all that, for the first time in her life, it’s a possibility for Solana.

And she wants to take that chance, even if doesn’t work out, even if it’s not what she thought it would be. To be able to say she at least tried, to say that she overcame her fears…it would be monumental.

It would feel like the breaking of mental and emotional chains.

And it starts today.

Closing up the book, Solana untangles her legs and marks her spot in her book. She gives Dulce a light pat on the head and walks into the bathroom. Opening up the drawer, her eyes land on the pair of scissors. Nothing fancy. Just a pair of regular scissors.

Solana takes a deep breath and grabs them.

Using one hand to let down her hair from the messy, half-effort bun, she gives her head a good shake. Once, twice, and then a third time. For a brief second, she hesitates, her father’s constant belittling returning to the surface.

“You don’t need short hair. You’ll look even fatter with it.”

Solana shuts her eyes as she thinks of all the times Roman has called her beautiful, has made her feel beautiful. The endless support from Bayley and Naomi. The borderline inappropriate comments form the twins almost every time she sees them.

It all brings an emotional smile to her face as she takes another deep breath.

One step, not twenty.

And she cuts.

________

Samantha can count on one hand in all of the years that she’s known Roman Reigns the times that he’s surprised her with a visit.

Zero.

He’s always always given her a heads up for his arrival or plans to visit, solely for the mere fact that Roman is a man who doesn’t like to wait. When he wants pussy, he wants it then and now. And she’s never been one to deny the Head of the Table anything he’s ever asked for.

So when she finds him sitting at her desk, feet propped up with an unreadable expression, it takes her off guard.

Only for a minute.

“I knew it was only a matter of time.” Samantha is quick to kick the door shut behind her, locking it right as she tosses her purse on the nearby chair. “You can’t go too long without me.” This fact alone is enough to make her cum right then and there. The fact that even with his roster of women he rotates through, she remains number one.

Roman knows where it’s at.

And him coming to her, at her job of all places, just proves it.

Eye dropping to his crotch, she licks her lips at the thought of that thick, beautiful dick in her mouth. Fuck, she’s salivating at just the thought. “You want me on my knees, daddy?”

Samantha starts to kick her shoes off when he finally breaks the silence.

“I want to know what you said to my wife.”

Samantha’s smile drops in under a millisecond. Instantly, she’s scowling. “What?”

Roman doesn’t hesitate to repeat himself, every word perfectly enunciated with his heavy, baritone voice. “What did you say to my wife, Samantha?”

This….this isn’t how she was expecting this to play out, and it shows in the sudden stuttering, “I—I don’t—”

“She came back from that bathroom upset, and I don’t like seeing her upset, so I’m only gonna ask you one more time—” Samantha nearly jumps back into the door when he suddenly bangs his fist on her wooden desk and growls, “what did you say to her!”

Stammering, she answers with a combination of fear and desperation, “I just—I told her the truth.”

It seems to be the wrong answer, as Roman looks 5x angrier. “And what the fuck is that?”

Samantha gathers herself a little better, voice more even as she answers with misplaced confidence. “That she could never please you. Not how I can.” And with foolish bravery, Samantha steps toward him. “That you’ll always come back to me.”

“You fucking bitch.”

That makes her still with her movements. He’s called her all kinds of names when they’ve fucked, and she’s loved it, loves being fucked hard and rough, his preference. But there’s something about this that she doesn’t love.

It’s because he sounds legitimately upset with her.

And that, in turn, upsets her, because he cannot seriously be upset that she said some shit to that little girl.

“Why does it matter? It’s not like she means anything to you.” Samantha has to actually laugh. In no universe can she see someone as strong and powerful as Roman caring about a girl like that. But, it’s when he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t voice some type of agreement that her confidence dwindles a bit. “R–right?” Still, nothing. And it’s with that nothing she realizes with all of the anger and shock in the world why he’s so upset.

“Oh my god. Are you serious right now? Her? You really have feelings for her?” Even saying it aloud sounds ludicrous. “What the fuck, Roman? What the hell is so great about her?”

There is absolutely nothing that girl brings to the table for her to have someone like Roman Reigns interested in her. It doesn’t make any goddamn sense. What the hell is attractive about a scarred, sliced up, fat bitch?

He finally speaks, warning her in an almost menacing tone. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

“That girl is weak, Roman. You can’t be the head of the Bloodline and have someone like her at your side. She doesn’t deserve it.” By now, Samantha has moved over to him, her hands planted on his chest, his eyes closed. “You need….someone strong at your side. Look at what you’ve done just by yourself. Imagine…imagine having a queen to rule with you.” She licks her lips, going in for the kill. “I can be that for you. I can give you an heir. Look at how long it’s been and still nothing, no baby. She’s broken, Roman. That bitch—”

Samantha is silenced by him jumping up from his chair as he shoves her against the wall, hand on her neck. It’s not the first time they’ve been in a similar position. She loves to be choked during sex, and he’s adept at doing just enough to get her off without her passing out.

But this time, there’s no pressure, no sexual aspect, no foreplay.

This….this is different.

Because this is the first time she’s ever actually been afraid of him.

“If you ever in your fucking life speak on her again, I’ll kill you.” Samantha’s eyes are wide, hand grasping at his. He’s still not actually applying any sort of pressure, probably more so placement to evoke a level of fear. A reminder that he could end her life in a matter of seconds if that’s what he wanted. “If you ever speak to her again, I’ll kill you. Fucking look at her, and you’re a dead bitch.”

Samantha barely has time to process his threats when he says something in Samoan and steps back, releasing her as she dubs over and gasps loudly from the shock of it all.

Seconds later, she’s on the floor, laying on her side after fucking Nia has landed her big ass foot in Samantha’s head.

Nia is looking down with a wicked smile that promises a level of pain. “You talk too fucking much.” She can’t tell if it’s directed to herself or Roman, regardless, he looks unbothered, outside of staring down at her with disgust.

Samantha has no idea where the hell that bitch came from, but her unexpected blow nearly has her seeing stars. She’s writhing on the floor, on her side, cradling her head when Nia yanks her up by her extensions.

“Oh, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” Nia kicks her a second time, in her side, and Samantha is almost certain she heard the subsequent cracking of her rib from the impact. Tears fill her eyes. “I’ve wanted to kick your ass since we were kids.”

Helpless and feeling so confused as to how he could do this to her, Samantha sets her teary gaze onto him. She does her best to generate as many tears as she can. “Roman, please—”

“You’re fucking delusional if you really thought I would ever make you anything more than what you were to me.” Samantha sniffles, vision blurred and stomach aching from both the physical and emotional impact of his words. “Nothing.”

A sudden anger fills her, meshing with the growing physical pain. She did this. That fucking bitch has taken Roman from her, her Roman.

“You wanna know what she is to me?” He crouches down and reaches for a lock of her hair, answering just as icily as the disgusted look in his light brown eyes. “Everything you’re not.”

Samantha snarls almost, not even angry at his words as much as her mind is trying to navigate any and all ways to make that little troll pay for this. Pay for stealing her man.

But it’s as Roman is walking out, that he barks his last order to Nia. Not necessarily a necessity given the fact that he’s certain she’s dreamed exactly of how this very moment could and should go down. Granted, this is the one symbolic thing he needs to ensure takes place.

“Break her fucking jaw.”

________

Handling the Samantha situation is just one of many things to be checked off of Roman’s to-do list for today. He’s got meetings, contracts to review, spreadsheets to update, shipments to see sent off, and a million and one other things. Most of which he’s far from thrilled about but also know needs to be done, regardless if he’d rather say fuck it all just for today. For just a couple hours, even.

Delegate, perhaps. But these are things that can’t be delegated. He, as the Head of the Table, needs to put his signature on to make it official.

And he’s got his Wise Man fresh on his heel to remind him of such responsibilities.

“And if my Tribal Chief can find it in him, we should also review Nick Aldis' proposal.” Roman’s instantly scowling. He fucking hates Aldis. The bastard is smug and thinks himself more important than he is. That Roman won’t end his fucking life with one snap of his finger.

Roman is halfway listening to Paul when he walks past Alicia who stands up from her desk. “Sir—”

His dismissal is swift and brusque. “Leave me alone.”

“But—”

One murderous look, and Alicia is back in her seat. Roman briefly overhears Paul chastising his secretary for her insubordination when he opens his door and immediately realizes why Alicia was most likely trying to speak to him.

Roman sees Solo standing almost awkwardly in the corner out of his peripheral vision, but his attention is solely on the other unexpected guest.

Focused on the way her almost flesh toned dress hugs every curve that drives him fucking insane sometimes, the way she bites down on her bottom lip in that way he’s learned she does when she’s unsure of something. And he’s especially focused on her hair that’s chopped down to where it lightly grazes her shoulder.

“I tell you, good help is so hard to find—” Paul is silenced as he finally walks in and sees Solana. “Oh, it’s you.” Roman shoots him a look that would absolutely kill if it had any sort of physical impact. “I mean, Solana, what a surprise—”

Roman easily moves back to focusing on his wife who looks absolutely fucking stunning. He directs his command though to Solo and Paul. “You two, out.”

Solo doesn’t need to be told twice, but Paul seems to meander, even as Roman walks over to Solana. And it’s when Roman has his hands on Solana’s hips and the room is still not cleared, he repeats in a calm voice that’s solely because of Solana’s presence.

If not for her, he’d be screaming at his Wise Man.

“I said get out.”

Roman can practically hear the nervous gulp. “But, sir, we have work—”

Solana frowning pisses Roman off in a way he has to keep from showing. But it’s when she finally speaks and it’s an offer to leave that he really has to reel in his rage. “I can go—”

“No.” That’s the fucking last thing he wants. “Paul is leaving.”

It’s not a suggestion, not a request, not a preferred action.

It’s a fucking demand.

And his Wise Man must realize this, because he’s quickly following in line with Solo and finally leaving Roman alone with Solana who seems still unsure about her presence.

“You have work to do—”

“You really expect me to get anything done when you come in my office looking like this?” He motions to her outfit and sees the way her cheeks tinge reddish as she bites back a smile. “Not happening, sweetheart.”

“I thought it looked nice.” The bashful way she says as such, as if she’s unsure it was an accurate assessment blows his mind. She looks down at the dress as if it’s not the woman wearing said dress that has him pushing back unholy thoughts.

“It doesn’t look nice. You look nice, Solana.” Another one over of her curvy body, and he mutters, “more than nice.” He brings his hand to her hair, brushing his fingers against the ends. “You cut your hair.”

She nods, an almost look of determination in her soft expression. “It was time,” is all she says, and Roman doesn’t need to ask for clarification. This meant something to her. Cutting her hair has a deeper meaning than just wanting something new, and whatever the reason, he’s proud she found it in her to follow through.

He hates when she asks him, still unsure, “does it…does it look bad?”

He’s not sure he could ever use Solana and ‘bad’ in the same sentence. Ever. “You could never look bad.”

She smiles, clearly pleased by his compliment. Good. He likes seeing her smile.

“Come here.” Roman takes her hand and leads her over to his desk where he sits down in his chair and doesn’t think twice about guiding her onto his lap. Roman feels her tense for only a couple seconds before she relaxes against him.

“As pleasant a surprise it is to find your fine ass in my office, I know you came for a reason.”

Roman is extremely perceptive. Always has been. He’s noticed the increased comfort Solana has developed and continued to develop with him. The way her discomfort at being looked at too long or even touched in any sort of capacity has shifted into bashful smiles and an almost light in her eyes at being complimented. At someone finding her to be anything but every lie she’s ever been fed.

Her confidence is growing, slowly but surely. And he likes that shit.

So he’ll do whatever he needs to do to keep it growing.

“It’s nothing serious.” It doesn’t have to be. She could come to his office every day if that’s what she wanted. He’d have zero complaints. “I just…I was baking Sopaipillas, and I know you like them and I felt bad because I’m bringing Jimmy and Jey some—”

It’s not until that moment he sees the Tupperware container on his desk. Her thoughtfulness is so unfamiliar but very much appreciated. He chuckles as his fingers carefully tap against her hip. “Thank you, but you know if you keep feeding they asses, they gon’ keep coming over.”

She’s smiling almost, defending them to a certain extent. “They’re really not that bad.” And she’s not entirely wrong. His cousins can be entertaining at times, but beyond that, he likes seeing her comfort level with them increasing as well.

For her to be as comfortable around them as she’s become, especially with them being men, is extremely significant given her trauma.

He’s proud of her for that just as well.

Still,Roman shrugs and calmly points out. “I spend most of my day with them.” Her other hand lays on his chest as he admits, “I don’t want to come home and see them. I just want to see you.”

Solana gives an expected almost shocked expression followed up with a slight confession of her own. Her voice is soft, like she’s unsure about what she’s about to say but is going with it regardless. “That’s why I wait up for you to get home…because I want to see you too.”

He believes this to be true, but he also knows there’s something else to it. “You worry about me.”

She nods, nervously licking her lips. “I’m trying to work on it though.” She’s been working on a lot of things, a lot of difficult, most likely mentally taxing things. And as proud of her as he is, Roman also recognizes the importance of pacing oneself.

He gently grazes the back of his fingers over her cheek. “Just focus on you, alright?”

The corner of her lips lift into an almost playful grin as she asks innocently, “what if I can do both?” Roman studies her, sees and hears the playfulness. It’s unlike her, but he fucking loves it. She squeals and almost giggles against him as he brings her closer to his chest, her hand squeezing his shoulder as he remains mindful of the placement of his hand on her hip.

Growing comfort or not, he still wants to be respectful of her boundaries.

Still wants to maintain her trust.

“I got me. Always.” Her gaze is on him, softening by the second as he adds on almost quietly. “Just need you to be okay too.”

Okay is such a big word, so layered. She’s not sure she’ll ever be fully okay. Too much trauma. Never enough healing. But there may be some level of okayness she can achieve, and it does feel like that’s something that’s in progress. “I’m getting there.”

And a large part of her healing journey is largely due to the man underneath her, staring at her with almost a sense of fascination, like he’s so enraptured by her. Like he’s smitten with her. The person she once believed no one could ever want has a handsome, powerful man like Roman Reigns holding her, looking at her, wanting her.

A line from the book resurfaces to the front of her mind.

One step, not twenty.

With that as a motivating and supportive mantra, she slowly moves her hand from his shoulder to his face, his beard prickling against her skin.

“Solana…..” She’s not sure she’s ever heard him sound so pained. “Baby, you can’t touch me like this and expect me to not want to kiss you.”

The butterflies in her stomach grow exponentially. Baby. She’s not entirely certain, but she feels like he’s called her this before, that he’s referred to her as such on a different occasion. So, it’s not a mistake, not a one time thing. It’s yet another sign that there wasn’t a dishonest bone in his body when he said he wanted her.

That he wants her.

Her heart is beating a mile a minute as she pools together all of the courage in her body and again chips away another tiny section of her wall of protection. “So kiss me.”

It’s not until this moment that Solana sees Roman actually appear genuinely surprised at something. He asks, maybe as if he needs to make sure he heard correctly, but Solana would bet it’s less that and more him ensuring consent. “Are you sure?”

He’s been so good at that. Consent. And it’s meant the world to her. His patience with all of her baggage.

Nodding, she quickly remembers his preference for verbal acknowledgements. “Yes.”

Solana doesn’t really remember her kiss with Roman at their wedding. She doesn’t really remember much from the actual wedding at all, to be honest. It was….it was more traumatic than anything, which is why she does her best to keep it stored away with the other too difficult to sit on memories.

But this….this she is certain she will never forget.

There’s an almost hesitancy when his lips touch hers, a space he’s leaving open in the event that she changes her mind. She’s grateful for that, but it’s not necessary. Her ‘yes’ was as genuine as his apparent interest in her.

And when he picks this up, picks up the fact that she truly wants this, he deepens the kiss, his hand moving up to her lower back as he pulls her closer to him. Roman’s full lips are soft and warm, and the way he moves his mouth against hers is both reserved and hungry, a strange but well balanced thing only he can manage. Like only he can achieve. He kisses her with a passion that she feels is only a fraction of everything he feels toward and for her.

Solana’s hand slides to the back of his neck, her fingers brushing up and across the skin, teasing the strings of hair that refused to mold down. She’s not sure if this was the right move because he makes a sound against her mouth, an almost mixture of a moan and groan, and pulls away. The separation and her subsequent light panting makes her suddenly aware that they’d been kissing longer than she realized. That she’d gotten so plunged in the experience that time seemed a nonfactor.

Her eyes flutter close when Roman brings his lips back onto her, this time peppering kisses along her jawline. Her head tilts back, an unconscious thing that grants him full access to the nape of her neck, which he easily makes his way down to. It’s a different, pleasant sensation that has her nails scraping against him.

“Roman….”

“So fuckin’ beautiful….” He says something else, something she can’t understand because it’s said in Samoan, but it unintentionally triggers something for her. A new level of bravery, an ability to ask something that makes her insides light afire and heart rate exceed what’s probably safe and healthy. But, it’s a hill she wants to eventually be able to get up and over.

And he’s made her feel safe enough to be the one to do it with.

“Roman.” Her voice must give away her need to say something because he pulls away from her and is focused directly on her. She licks her slightly swollen lips. “I want….I want to try—”

“Whatchu mean he busy? Man, you trippin. Uce always got time for family.” Jimmy’s loud unexpected voice is enough of a disruption and mood killer that Solana quickly jumps off Roman’s lap and moves away just enough to adjust her hair and dress. “Soso!”

Solana brings herself to look at her husband’s cousin as he finally walks in the office after dismissing Alicia’s warning. The first thing she notices is the tupperware bowl in his hand and white substance on his fingers. “I hope you don’t mind. When I saw your driver, I figured you had these little sugar things in the back so I just grabbed em’ all.”

If not for the fact that Solana is still trying to settle herself, she’d point out how the other bowl was supposed to be for Jey. But that seems irrelevant at the moment.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Jimmy seems completely unbothered by Roman’s threat as he plops down on the sofa, kicking his feet up on the glass coffee table and asks with all the obliviousness in the world. “So what ya’ll doing?”

When Roman shoots up from his desk and starts toward his cousin, Solana places herself in front of him, hands on his chest. His attention is immediately down, focused once again on her.

“It’s okay. I—I’ve got training with Bay and Naomi anyway.” Swallowing her nerves and pushing back thoughts of how….how nice it felt kissing him, she quietly offers a hopefully acceptable alternative. “We can talk tonight.”

This doesn’t seem like Roman’s preference but something he can live with. “Fine.”

She knows he’s obviously annoyed at being interrupted, and she is too, to a certain extent. But, Jimmy meant no harm, and she hopes Roman can at least recognize as much. Solana says bye to Jimmy and is near the door where she sees Solo waiting for her when an idea, more an urge, becomes too prominent to push away.

She turns back around and leans up, pulling Roman down by his shoulders and kisses his cheek. He gives her a look that tells her he’d be pulling her back for more if not for her cousin, and it makes her stomach somersault all over again.

But, she doesn’t give him the opportunity, just a small smile as she walks out for good this time.

And it’s after she’s gone, the Wise Man back in the room to help minimize the chances of his Tribal Chief killing one of his cousins that Jimmy uses the distraction to pull out his phone and send a text in the group chat.

Group Chat: Operation RoSo

Jimmy: Ya’ll! Code red! Code fucking red!

Jey:?????????

Bayley: Is Solana okay?!

Naomi: ^^^^^^

Jimmy: Man, I just got to Uce office, and good thing I walked in when I did. They acting all weird and shit. Soso just ran out of here but not after telling him they’ll ‘talk’ tonight!!!!

Jey: I’m too high for this shit right now.

Naomi: Babe, how exactly is that a code red???

Jimmy: They was obviously arguing before I got here! And ‘talking’ tonight??? That ain’t nothing but part two!

Bayley: Jimmy, that seems like a bit of a stretch.

Jey: A big ass stretch. Man, leave them two alone.

Jimmy: Naw. We gotta expedite this plan. I can see the writing on the wall. If we don’t move fast, they never gon fall in love. They might even be starting to hate each other now!

Bayley: Now you’re just being dramatic.

Jey: Agreed. How I get out this chat?

Jimmy: I don’t wanna hear it! I’m the master strategist so let me do my thing!

Jimmy: Babe. You and Bayley have SoSo all done up and nice this evening. Make her think ya’ll are going out or something.

Naomi: Why?

Jimmy: Damnit woman, because I said so!

Naomi: 🫤

Naomi: I’m trying to figure out who the fuck you think you talking to. Don’t get your ass beat.

Jey: I’m muting this shit. Ya’ll not gon get me killed. Roman don’t like people in his business.

Jimmy: Just have her ready, and I’ll text you the location and the time she needs to be there.

Jimmy: We gotta save RoSo from themselves!

________

Solana misses the blow from Naomi by only a fraction of a second, but before she has time to think about it, another one is coming, forcing Solana to quickly jump to the side.

“Nice,” Naomi compliments. “Try more offensive positions though. Try to hit me.”

Solana knew that was coming, knew that Naomi would be pushing her today, as she has the last couple times. It only makes sense. Solana recognizes that she’s improving, that she has improved a lot since she started. It seems only natural that Naomi would continue to push her to further the progression of her skills.

“Don’t be afraid, Solana! Naomi can take it,” Bayley encourages from the sidelines, drinking some of her Gatorade.

Solana does her best to not get too distracted, knowing that can be quite literally fatal if this was a real situation.

Naomi lunges at her again, and Solana manages to block it with her forearm but also lifts her foot, managing to kick Naomi away.

“Nice!” It’s such a weird thing to be applauded for. “But remember to retract your foot faster next time. I could have twisted it and grounded you.”

Solana commits that to memory just as Naomi steps back and Bayley walks back over. She then compliments, “I know I said it already, but the haircut looks amazing on you.” She quickly adds in a manner that’s more telling than asking. “Just have to even some areas off.”

Solana half smiles. She expected Bayley to need to go in with actual shears to shape up some areas given the fact that Solana’s impromptu haircut was literally just her taking some regular scissors and chopping at least five inches off.

But before Solana can say anything else, she sees why Bayley ended her break to get back into the training.

It’s evident by the knife in her outstretched hand.

“This is a Benchmade Bailout. It’s a folding knife. A little bigger than what we’d like you to carry on you, but a good place to start.”

Carrying….Solana hadn’t even allowed herself to think about that part. Of course they’d want her to start keeping a knife on her once teaching her how to use one.

Naomi then advises, “we’re not gonna do any fight training with it today, but we do want you to get used to the feel and weight of it.”

Solana can feel her heartbeat increasing. She can’t remember the last time, if ever, she’s held a knife of this nature. Her left hand is against her shorts, tapping against the spandex, a continued nervous habit.

Bayley sees this and offers assurance. “It’s okay. We just want to go over the basics.”

Solana does her best to focus not on the past, but the present. The here and now. Another recommendation from her book. She also strangely remembers the countless times Roman has asserted he won’t let anything happen to her.

“I’ve got you.”

The safe feeling she has when he’s around. He’s not physically present, but the recollection of his words anchor her.

Taking a deep breath, Solana takes the knife from Bayley, its coolness taking her by surprise. She never takes her eyes off the blade.

Meanwhile, Naomi goes into basic tips and information. “Right off the bat, if you ever need to use it to defend yourself, go for the major arteries.” She then begins pointing to the various body parts as she lists them off. “The neck, stomach, chest area namely. It’s your best bet at getting someone almost entirely immobilized.”

“And this might be graphic, but don’t be afraid to go for it twice. Sometimes people can still be standing with just one hit.” Solana is grateful for the fact that Bayley is trying to be careful with her words, vague to a certain extent but clear enough so she can understand.

“If you just wanna get them away and not potentially kill them, maybe go for the hand or foot, depending on how they’ve got you pinned.”

“But by the time we finish your training, no one will get the chance to pin you.” Naomi gives a comforting smile and squeeze of her shoulder. “Not to mention Roman would never let you be in that position in the first place.”

Solana doesn’t doubt that one bit.

Bayley suddenly clears her throat, almost awkwardly.

Solana frowns, looking lost by the otherwise random in interjection. “What?”

“We’re not supposed to tell you, but Roman is taking you out to dinner tonight.” Naomi’s answer is appreciated, but it doesn’t make sense.

“He what?” Solana is confused because she literally just saw Roman this morning and came straight from his office to the Warehouse to train without him mentioning a word of this. “He didn’t say anything to me.”

“It’s supposed to be a surprise,” Bayley adds, but there’s something almost unsure about her answer. “So, I’ll take you to my salon afterwards to touch up your hair now, and then we can also figure out glam while you’re there.”

“Yes.” Naomi claps and carefully removes the knife from Solana. The knife she completely forgot she was holding. Naomi comments on that. “See? You forgot about it for a minute, didn’t you?” Solana nods. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you there.”

The encouragement means the world to Solana as she offers a quiet but meaningful, “thank you.” They’ll never know how much their support means to her.

Ever.

Bayley comes and stands beside Solana, sliding her arm around her with that infamous sly smile.”You never have to thank us for being your friends, Solana.” Words have never hit so deeply, Solana having to hold back tears. Friends. “Now let’s figure out what the slay is gonna be for tonight.”

________

The minute Solana walks into the restaurant, she realizes that something is off.

And not even in a dangerous sort of way, more so, there’s something she’s not being told sort of way.

It’s a beautiful upscale restaurant that has decor that probably costs more than some people’s mortgage payment.

But it’s barren. Not a customer in sight.

Walking up the three steps that lead to a higher level, she looks around, confused as to the fact that a restaurant that probably requires reservations six months in advance is vacant.

Digging in her small purse, she pulls out her phone to text Roman. Bayley and Naomi encouraged her to continue to play dumb, but this isn’t right.

She needs to talk to him.

“Solana?”

Her head snaps up to see Roman who also just walked up the same steps she did minutes prior.

“Roman?”

He seems surprised to see her, an unexpected expression for someone who allegedly planned this dinner. “I—I don’t know what’s going on.” He walks over to her as she explains. “I was told—”

“Probably the same thing I was told,” he finishes for her and takes in her appearance, Solana’s hands smoothing over her dress. Looking just as captivated as he’d looked at her this morning in his office, Roman ghosts the back of his hand against her cheek. “Sei uno splendore….”

She hasn’t a clue what he’s said, but something tells her it’s a compliment of some sort. Still, Solana asks with that same bashful smile that seems to always fall on her face when she’s around him, “are you gonna tell me what you just said?”

Roman winks and answers, plain and simple, “naw.”

Smiling even harder, before she can say anything else, another voice enters the conversation.

“Soso, girl, what you doing here?”

Both Solana and Roman turn to a smiling Jimmy who's wearing a poorly feigned look of surprise.

“Jimmy?” Solana is genuinely confused while Roman looks like he’s genuinely considering murdering his cousin for the second time today. “What—what are you doing here?”

Roman is completely uninterested in the why and more so on the how he’s going to end the other man. “I’m going to fucking kill him, Solana. I don’t care anymore.”

Jimmy completely ignores Roman and answers her question with an answer that makes no sense. “Ahh, you know, I was in the neighborhood.”

He gives Solana a side hug as she answers his question as well, hoping to avoid witnessing a familial crime. “Bayley and Naomi told me—”

“You know what, it don’t even matter. You here. Big Dog here.” He gestures around them. “Looks like this nice ass restaurant has been rented out by some coincidence. Might as well enjoy a nice dinner.”

Roman closes his eyes, seemingly trying to count off. “I’m literally going to snap your fucking neck if you don’t get lost. Now.”

Solana moves over to Roman just enough for him to reach and gently tug her into him. He doesn’t need to be getting this upset. She naturally lays her head against his chest, fingers grasping the sides of his shirt.

Jimmy lifts his hands in a surrender manner. “Hey. I can tell when I’m not wanted.” Solana smiles at the look she can imagine on Roman’s face at that. “Ya’ll be safe now. Soso, I’ll be at the crib in the morning for breakfast.”

“Why the fuc—”��

Solana reaches up and redirects his focus onto her. “It’s okay.” Solana looks over at the table that’s beautifully decorated with a stunning centerpiece. “It’s….it’s sweet.” Her diversion also, thankfully, a long enough distraction for Jimmy to depart, leaving the two of them alone.

Her preference.

Roman’s as well, clearly.

Solana then takes in the situation, a little relieved to finally know what’s going on. It’s obvious she was set up. Roman too. But regardless of the deception, it’s deeply appreciated. Her friends going to such lengths to set up something nice like this.

Roman, calming down a bit, doesn’t necessarily disagree with her, but instead asserts, “they’re interfering, and I don’t like that shit.”

Her smile dims a bit as she offers, “we can leave—”

“No.” He shoots it down immediately, hands on her hips. “Just hate that I finally get time alone with you, and it’s because of fucking Jimmy.” Her eyes shut when he kisses her forehead and murmurs, “been thinking’ bout you all day…”

And the smile is back as she takes his hand and leads him toward the table, Roman pulling her chair out for her.

Having the restaurant entirely rented out is a luxury she’s not used to but appreciates, especially with how catered the service is as well as the fact that they don’t have to wait long for the food. Conversation flows easy between them, more Roman asking questions about how she’s doing, if she needs anything.

He’s always so attentive, and she’s so grateful for that.

Grateful for him.

It’s the same type of attentiveness that causes her to comment after the waiter comes and takes their plates, clearing the table. “You seem stressed.”

And not just because of the date setup.

He shrugs, partially dismissing but not outright denying. “Just a long day.”

It seems to be a recurring theme with him. Solana has noticed for a while now how his early days always bleed into late evenings that sometimes spill over to the next day. It doesn’t seem sustainable to her. “You have a lot of those.”

“I’m the Tribal Chief.” He says it with pride, as he should, but there’s something else there. Something she can’t outright identify. “Comes with the territory.”

And Solana recognizes as such, but as large of a man Roman is—in many different ways—he’s still just a man. “Is it ever too much?” She crosses her arms across the table, leaning forward almost. There may be no other attendees present, but there are still workers, so she’s mindful of her volume. “I mean….”

“Do I ever get exhausted?” She nods. “Sure.” That wasn’t the answer she was expecting. Roman does such an excellent job always wearing that mask of calm, cool, and collected. Outside of his obvious temper, he’s always so well put together. It’s something she envies, to a certain extent. “But someone’s gotta do it, and as it’s my birthright, the responsibility falls on me.”

She sits on his words, understanding where he’s coming from but also wondering just how he manages such a weight. She knows he’d headed the Bloodline for some time now, since he was 18 years old. That’s a large burden to carry at such a young age and for him to do it so long and as well as he has, it’s impressive.

He certainly lives up to his reputation.

Solana nods and does her best to ease into what she’d really like to tell him, to have him know even if he never in life takes her up on it. “You always say that I can talk to you…”

Roman doesn’t hesitate to reaffirm it too. “You can.”

She knows this. He’s….he’s made it abundantly clear that he wants to speak with her, to know what’s on her mind. “That goes both ways.” Something speedily flashes in his eyes, briefly affecting his otherwise neutral expression. “You can talk to me too.”

For a second, she regrets saying anything, regrets second guessing his abilities to handle things. The last thing she wants is to insinuate he’s somehow incapable of taking care of business. But, if he’s insulted by her offer, he doesn’t show it, just says a simple, “thank you.” She offers a small nod when he seemingly changes the subject. “How’s training?”

There’s a bit of a sting at what feels like a slight form of rejection, but she understands better than anyone that opening up can be hard, so she respects his wishes.

“Good. I….I think I like it.” It’s the truth. While initially terrified of being put into such a foreign situation, Solana has found herself growing increasingly content with this new part of her weekly routine. Training has assisted, to a great extent, in her growing confidence and surety with herself. There’s something comforting about learning how to defend herself, how to keep herself safe. “Today was a little hard though. They’re teaching me how to fight with knives. It’s…..uncomfortable, but that’s how I know I need to do it.”

If there’s anything she’s learned in the past couple months, it’s that nothing about working to overcome trauma is easy. That doesn’t, however, make it any less important.

Or beneficial.

“Not if you absolutely don’t want to.” To be fair, Roman wasn’t even informed that this was something the girls were starting with Solana. He makes a mental note to remind them that while they handle her training, the specifics of what she’s taught needs to be run by him at all times. He probably would have shot down the knife training.

Solana was literally present and witnessed her mother be stabbed to death. Solana herself was also stabbed.

That seems almost cruel to make her learn how to wield the very weapon that took so much from her.

“Wes used to use knives to hurt me.” It comes out more quiet than she intended, a natural effect of sharing something so painful. She points to a small scar on her neck, the exact date and nature of how it happened, something she’ll never forget but has little desire to elaborate on.

“And I know….I know you won’t let him hurt me anymore, but….I don’t want him to have that power over me anymore either. He knows I’m scared of them, and he’s always taken advantage of that fact. I don’t….I don’t want him to have that anymore.”

“Then he won’t,” Roman agrees. He can understand her logic, and he respects the hell out of her wanting to take back that power. He supports the hell out of it too. “Not if you don’t let him.”

She gives a sad smile, shaking her head. “As strange as it is, I think….Wes and I are both victims.” Before Roman can press her for clarification, she explains, “my father always kept his contact limited with my mom. He said she would make him weak like she made me.” Just saying it takes Solana back to countless times and occasions where her father would talk down on her mother, talk down on Solana. It’s a weighty memory. “Having my mom…having her love for the time that I did made a big difference for me. Wes never got that, so I always wonder how things could have been different if he did.”

Solana has a big heart. Pure. A mind-boggling phenomena to Roman considering everything she’s been through. “It still doesn’t make what he’s done to you right.” Kind heart or not, it’s imperative she knows there’s never a good enough reason or excuse for anyone to do what he’s done to her.

She nods, “I know.” It’s still a work in progress, Solana learning to unlearn the victim blaming she’s placed on herself for so many years. But, that much, she’s come to accept.

She never deserved any of Wes or her father's abuse.

Roman can see the way memories might be coming back to the front of her mind and moves to redirect again. “You wanted to talk to me about something earlier.”

Oh.

For a second, she wants to lie. To make up something. To come up with a story that’s hopefully believable enough for him to not poke holes through. And then another line from her book resurfaces.

Calculated risks are different—you weigh your chances and step out onto the ice only when you’re relatively sure it’s solid.

Solana is certain she’s never met a more solid person than Roman.

Scooting back in her chair, she feels his watchful gaze around her as she moves around the table and is only inches away from him when he realizes what she's doing and beats her to it, gently pulling her onto his lap. He’s always so careful around her.

Solana moves her arms around his neck as he rests one hand on her hip.

She takes a deep breath. “I was...I was working out of my book this morning, and it was the chapter on…on intimacy and—” She has to pace herself, knowing that if she doesn’t, she won’t get through the conversation. And she has to do this. She almost feels like she needs to do this. “I think I always thought I couldn’t have that because of what happened to me, but…..but I think I can.”

And this has been such a powerful and moving revelation to walk into. For so long, Solana has lived in fear and trauma, haunted by the horrific memories of her sexual assault. It’s inaccurately painted her views of what should and could be something beautiful and special with the right person. She never thought that could be possible for her though, believed that her chance had been destroyed by two sick individuals.

But if the past few months have taught her anything, it’s that there are decent people in the world. Decent men in the world. Jimmy. Jey. Solo.

Roman

She’s still very much nervous, and even talking about it has her pushing back a level of anxiety, but the desire to overcome that trauma, to be able to experience that as a woman, to not be held down by the shackles of her past, is stronger than it’s ever been before.

“And I want to try.” She licks her lips, nervously adding on and explaining as best she can, “but, I can’t do it right away. I need….I need to build up to it, and I know—that has to be frustrating for you—”

“Solana.” His interruption is quiet but firm. “We’ll go as slow as you want.” His finger is moving in slow circles on her hip, an action that provides her a strange sense of comfort. “Whatever you need is what we’ll do.”

Solana releases a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding in. Him agreeing isn’t something she necessarily didn’t see coming, she just didn’t realize it’d come so easy.

She almost feels it’s too good to be true.

Suddenly unsure, Solana double checks. “You’re….you’re okay with that?”

He doesn’t miss a beat with his answer. “Only if you’re sure this is what you want.”

It’s a profound statement. There’s a lot of things she’s not sure of that she’s been making herself do, regardless.

But this……

This is something she wants.

Something she maybe even needs.

Solana is careful with her answer. “I’m gonna be 29 this year, and the only sexual experience I’ve had is being raped as a child.” There’s an equal combination of emotion and conviction as she affirms, “I don’t want that to be my story anymore.”

And it won’t.

Because she won’t let it.

Not anymore.

“Then we’ll do this.” She nods, still nervous but also comforted by his support. “You know I won’t make you do anything you’re not ready for, but I also need you to be good about communicating with me.” His eyes move up and down over her, resting slightly longer on her chest, which is understandable given the revealing nature of her dress. “And you also know how attracted I am to you, to all of you, so I need you to stay clear with me on what you are and aren’t comfortable with, okay?”

It’s fair and completely understandable. Roman is still a man. A man with needs, and he strikes her as being an otherwise handsy man, so him wanting and needing to know where her red zones are is important.

“I understand.” And she’ll make an active, concerted effort to be on top of that. To practice saying no and cutting things off when she needs to. “What—what about you?” He gives her a look. “Is there….is there anything you’re not comfortable with?”

Again, he takes her in, head to toe. His tongue leaves his mouth to slowly gloss over his bottom lip. “Baby, you can do whatever you want with me.”

Her smile is bashful as she looks away. Him being so….outspoken about his attraction and desire for her is still a new thing she’s trying to navigate, but it’s not unwanted. Nor does it feel bad to have a man like him want her so badly.

Not at all.

Deciding to continue to stay on the ledge she’s already started to trail, Solana brings her hand to his chest. “So….so if I asked you to kiss me again….”

He chuckles, Solana’s eyes shutting as he brings his mouth to her jawline, “whenever,” her nails claw against his chest as he moves his lips to her nose, “however,” finally he’s teasing the corner of her mouth. “Wherever you want.”

And it’s at the exact moment their lips connect again that a phone ringing once again steals away another groundbreaking moment.

Solana can feel the irritation in his muscular body and smiles against his lips.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” She doesn’t necessarily doubt it as he kisses her cheek before pulling his phone out and answering as she lays her head in his neck. He barks out an unkind, “what?”

It doesn’t deter her as he keeps his grip on her hip, Solana enjoying the feeling of being in his arms. She’s starting to realize being this close to him makes her feel safe. His presence alone gives her that feeling, but this is something different, something almost…deeper.

She doesn’t try to listen in on his phone call, but it’s made virtually impossible not to, given the fact that she’s literally on his lap. However, that’s ended when he switches to speaking in Samoan. Still, it’s not hard to pick up on the fact that he’s growing more annoyed with every second that passes.

He then gives a heavy sigh, switching to English, “I’ll be there in a bit.”

Her stomach drops, a frown appearing that she does her best to quickly push away. She had a feeling the call would end that way.

Before he can explain to her the obvious, she lifts her head and assures, “it’s okay. I should probably get back to Dulce anyway.”

“Damn dog is so needy.” Solana smiles at the scowl on his handsome face. For someone who doesn’t care for dogs, she’s noticed he seems to interact with her puppy more and more as the days pass. He brings his hand to her chin, ensuring she keeps her gaze on him. “Don’t wait up, alright?”

It’s an expected request, one he should already know she’ll do her best to, but most likely won’t, abide by.

“I make no promises...”

________

Having such a small dog means that he or she can be in the most random of places and blend in seamlessly because of said smallness. It’s why in looking for Dulce after getting out the shower, Solana damn near searches every corner and crevice of the first and second floors of the mansion. Outside of a room that’s been locked and closed off the past two weeks, Roman not really giving her a reason why nor has she pushed.

She’d never been in it anyway.

It is, however, out of the norm though for Dulce to not be nearby. She typically likes to stay close to Solana.

Or even Roman.

So for a moment, Solana starts to get concerned. But after searching her room, the kitchen, the dining room, and even the backyard a second time, Solana is finally able to locate Dulce in the least expected place.

Roman’s room.

She didn’t even realize Dulce’s bed was still in there, still in the original spot on the side of his bed.

The side she had slept on that one night.

“Dulce, you can’t stay in here.” Solana knows Roman isn’t a huge dog person, and Dulce being in his room is probably the last thing he’ll want to see when he gets back. But it’s in reaching over to pick up her puppy that something unexpected happens.

Dulce nips at her.

Solana gasps, momentarily taken off guard. That’s the first time Dulce has done that. “Dulce, no.” Again, Solana goes for the grab only for the puppy to plant her bottom and back legs into the bed. Now Solana is just straight up confused. “What is wrong with you?”

Thinking maybe she can lure the puppy with a toy, Solana turns to leave, almost to the door when Dulce’s whimpering and the patter of her little feet stops her. Solana turns around and moves to grab her when Dulce scampers right back over to her bed, plopping her little body down.

It’s when she does that, Solana starts to catch on.

“You want to stay in here?” Dulce’s reply is a bark followed by the wag of her tail. Solana frowns. “We can’t…..this is Roman’s room.”

And yet even as the words leave her mouth, she thinks about that. Thinks about the fact that a part of working up to being intimate with Roman includes being close to him, touching him, in his bed perhaps. And though she still doesn’t remember everything from the night she got drunk, she remembers waking up in his bed and falling asleep again in the same bed with zero issues.

She felt….she felt comfortable.

She felt safe.

“We can stay for a little while.” Deep down, Solana knows Roman won’t be upset with her. If anything, he’ll be more annoyed that she didn’t listen and decided to wait up, but her laying in his bed for a few minutes won’t generate anger.

Solana puts her phone on the nightstand, making sure the ringer is still on. The likelihood of him texting or even calling her is slim to none, but still….she doesn’t want to miss it if he does.

Laying on his bed is the initial plan, but there’s a chill in his room that has her moving under the covers just to provide her that slight warmth. It’s not intended to increase her comfort and definitely not intended to lead to her falling asleep.

But that’s exactly what happens.

It’s also the last thing Roman expects to find when he makes it back home a couple hours later.

Solana asleep in his bed.

He knew she would try to stay up, knew she would end up falling asleep in trying to stay up, but he didn’t know she would end up doing all of that in his room, in his bed.

It’s unexpected but far from unwanted, a strange sense of satisfaction at seeing her sleeping so comfortably, so peacefully in his space of all places.

He’s careful in his movements around the room, gathering clothes to change into post shower. Roman doesn’t want to disturb her, to wake her up, especially since he has a good guess that she didn’t intend to end up in his bed and would be unnecessarily apologetic.

Apologetic for something he’s halfway considering asking her to make a permanent thing.

Roman manages to finish his shower without Solana so much as moving an inch. If only her damn dog was the same, because he’s barely able to open the bathroom door when Dulce is at his feet, whimpering.

Small ass dog with an even smaller ass bladder.

Before she can progress to barking, he’s got her up in his arms, guiding her out the room, down the stairs and into the backyard where she thankfully wastes zero time in doing her business. Roman is grateful, not wanting a second to pass where Solana could wake up, freak the fuck out, and leave.

He wants her to stay right where she is.

And it’s in sliding into the bed with her, moving his arm over her body and gently pulling her into him, he realizes another reason why he doesn’t want her to leave. There’s an unfamiliar almost instant peace he has at the feel of her next to him, like this is how it should be, like she should be with him.

Like she’s supposed to be with him.

But he clearly wasn’t thinking straight when he moved her, because she’s suddenly stirring in her sleep, eyes slowly blinking open.

Fuck. He didn’t mean to wake her up.

Roman’s half expecting her to freak out, to panic at being this close to him, at being in bed this close to him. But she again surprises him with a quiet murmur that’s more an acknowledgment than anything. “You’re back….” He watches as she frowns almost, an indication of worry, asking in a voice full of sleep. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He brings his hand to her cheek, recognizing that even though she’s talking, she’s very much still half-sleep. “Go back to sleep.”

Solana gives a little nod and the moment he pulls his hand away, she inches closer to him. He shifts their positions, so he’s on his back, and she’s tucked safely into his side. In what feels like seconds, she’s fast asleep.

Yeah….

A discussion about her moving into his room is definitely on the table, preferably sooner rather than later. It makes sense to him for a lot of reasons, namely the fact that she’s clearly comfortable sleeping with him in this way but also the fact that she’s expressed a desire to work up to being intimate.

Roman’s had sex in a lot of different places, but there’s no way in fucking hell he could ever have his first time with Solana be anywhere but a bed.

His bed.

He plays around with a few different ideas on how to broach the subject before sleep prevails over him too.

It’s the fastest he’s fallen asleep in years.

And he’s certain it has nothing to do with the long ass day he had but everything to do with the woman besides him.

But his sleep is short lived by the vibrating of his phone on the nightstand. Irritated at the interruption of his sleep, he’s not surprised. Roman’s always been a light sleeper.

He peers down to make sure Solana remains undisturbed in her slumber, and seeing that she’s still sleeping as peacefully as before with her body somehow more over his than he remembered, he grabs his phone.

Paul: Sorry to disturb you so late, sir, but I got the files you requested for Miller. Emailed. As we already know, he’s almost a million in the hole. Has been in debt over the past twenty years. Never in the green. The bulk of it was accumulated in 2005. 500K. Summer 2005. Strangely, in that same month, it was cut in half to 250K. Then mysteriously zeroed out in late 07.

Roman sits on the brief summary provided by his Wise Man. It doesn’t add up. He already knew Miller was in the hole. The man is a fucking idiot when it comes to finances, so him being that deeply in debt isn’t surprising, but him somehow getting rid of a quarter million debt is. The fucker isn’t smart enough to pull that off.

Roman: Who was the creditor?

Paul: Still looking into that.

Roman: Anything significant about 07’?

Paul: Not that I can see. Still digging though.

Roman doesn’t like mysteries. Can’t stand unanswered questions. They’ve always driven him fucking insane. It’s why he finds himself unable to fall back asleep, an inconvenient thing given the fact that he’ll need to be up and out of bed in a little under three hours. Still, he can’t get the dates and information out of his head.

How the fuck did a dumbass like Miller clear his ledger to that extent? It’s not unheard of. Roman could have done it. Easily. But, he’s also significantly smarter than his wife’s dumbass father.

Even more, what the hell did Miller need or have done for fucking half a million dollars?

Was he moving product? Weapons, maybe? Human trafficking? Just the thought of that last one makes Roman want to place his fist through the nearest wall.

But it’s Solana stirring on top of him that serves as the unintended trigger that helps him fill in the rest of the gaps.

He’s quick with the text to the Wise Man.

Roman: When was Solana’s mother killed?

Paul: Sir?

Roman: Answer the fucking question.

There’s a brief delay followed by those three dots and an answer.

Paul: 2005. August.

Wheels start turning as Roman begins putting the harrowing pieces together. Miller went into half a million dollar debt in August of 2005 that somehow got slashed in half at the end of the same month. The same month that Solana and her mother were attacked, and only one of them made it out alive.

Half…..

2007….

Roman does some mental math. Solana was born in 95. She’ll be 29 this year. That puts her at age 12 back in 07’.

12.

The same age she was when she was raped.

The same year the largest chunk of her father’s debt suddenly zeroed out and disappeared like it never happened in the first place.

And just like the night he found out Solana was a survivor of childhood sexual assault, the unbridled horror and disgust that filled him in knowing the truth, Roman is starting to wish he wasn’t so good at connecting the dots. That he wasn’t able to put two and two together.

Because the picture is more fucking horrifying than anything he’s encountered in some time. If ever.

Because he’s now faced with the dilemma of just how in the hell he’s supposed to tell Solana that her father is responsible for her mother’s murder but also her being raped.

Because now he’s faced with the dilemma of if he should tell her at all.

Roman closes his eyes.

Shit just got infinitely more complicated.

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

292 notes · View notes

are-you-still-writing-that · 7 months ago

Text

Yandere Alphabet: Tobias "Ticci Toby" Rogers

It was genuinely so much fun to figure him out. (If I would care, it would almost be scary how many of my own habits I projected onto him, but o well...) I hope you will enjoy this little thing!

Toby Rogers

One word: Unstable. That is all you need to know about him. His movements, his moods, his sanity. All of it is unstable. Wishing you good luck would feel condescending at this point. So I´m just gonna laugh quietly to myself as I leave the scene of the crime. You are aware that this man is a disaster waiting to happen, right? Oh well, you are done for anyway. Byebye~!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He comes closer to you, leaning down to get on eye level with you, as you struggle to stand up again. Faster than you react, he already grabbed you by the collar of your shirt. Beneath his googles you know he is staring at your face, and even though you can´t see his eyes, it gets uncomfortable quickly. He leans further into your space, leaning to your neck. His fingers, jerking slightly, brush aside your shirt, as he pulls down his mask. Then nothing but pain, as he buries his teeth in your shoulder. Licking the blood away, he bites down again. Carefully circling the indents of his teeth, he whispers something about scars. Later he clings to you, demanding head pats and cuddles, and every once in a while, he will scar you again with his teeth.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

The scream ends in a gurgle, as he slams down his hatchet again, and again. And again. Again. He won´t stop. Blood is splattered all over the floor. It´s dripping from his hair and face. When his movements stop, he turns to grin at you widely. The wound on his cheek distorts his face even further. Hatchet still in hand, he grabs for the corpse with the other hand, and drags it over to you. You´re shaking as he simply drops it down in front of you. Rolling on the balls of his feet, he almost looks like a child. Nothing left of the rage, he had relished in only moments before. He looks like a cat who is proudly showing off his prey. You notice how his face suddenly seems to shift at your lack of an reaction, and you quickly lean over to inspect his kill. Thank you, you mumble out as you look over the wound, slightly poking them to get your hands bloody, because you know it will make him happy. No problem, that´s what a good boyfriend should do, no? Watch out for his partner? And you are mine after all! His sentence ends with a little laugh, as he crouches down next to you, to explain to you in detail how he slaughtered the other.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He flips faster than you can predict. Sometimes, he seems amused by the way you flinch away from him, whenever he moves to fast. Mocking your reactions to him, and setting you off on purpose. His laughter, a rasp that must hurt, echoing through the little cabin. There is no escape from him. Other times, he looks at you with worry. His eyebrow furrowed, as he slows down on purpose. You can see how he clenches his teeth, trying to suppress the jerks of his body. Something, that is not only not really possible, but also puts him in a terrible mood. You don´t mind the laughter or the worry. Because what you really hate, is the anger. Because sometimes he rages, when he sees you flinch away from him. He is up to your face, screaming, spit flying into your face. His grip becomes so tight, you swear, that you feel your bones creak. In those moments, you always fear, that he will always grab his hatchet next to put an end to it all. You hate it.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

You were shaking again, standing in the middle of the cabin, when you felt how his arm snaked around your waist, only to pull you flush against him. He was breathing against the back of your neck, as he seemed to relax. After a moment he also wrapped his other arm around you, only to rest his entire weight on you. With a satisfied sigh, he pulled away from you after a few minutes. You blanched, when he pulled you towards his bed. A happy smile on his face, as he pushed you down, climbing to lay on top of you, as close as possible. Obviously in the mood to cuddle, no matter what you would say.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Whenever he had a nightmare, you would be awake long before him. His sudden jerking of limbs right next to you, pulling you from sleep. Every time you would slowly sit up, not touching him, and instead wait for him to wake up by himself. Shuffling back to lean against the wall, you wait. When he would finally come to with a big gasp, he would look around panicked. It would only take a moment, before he grabs you, and burrows his face in your lap. Big sobs shaking his body. He would talk, but stutter heavely, thrills and whistles would make it hard to understand him. Never mind, that he was still slurring his words from sleep. This would be the only time, he would be vulnerable in front of you. Straight from a nightmare, he would use you for his own comfort. Talk to you, till he felt better, about whatever his brain had cooked up that night. It was easier to placate and comfort him on those nights. You had learned that the hard way.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He doesn´t seem to register the punches, the kicking. Ignores the screaming. He laughs when you bite him. Cooing at you, proud for you to marking – maybe even scarring – him like that. He bites back as well. Drunk on joy of how you seem to reciprocate his feeling for you. This is not a game, that you can win. The look in his eyes tells you, to appreciate that he sees your fighting as a game, that he enjoys scuffling with you. Because if you already can´t win the game, you would certainly loose the fight. And the consequences would be gruesome.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

He loves the hunt. You can see it in his eyes, how much he enjoys it, whenever you try to turn away from him. To run. To escape from him. He adores the chase. His eyes glinting in delight, when he jumps up to chase after you. His feet carrying him securely across the uneven forest ground, while you stumble. He knows, that you won´t escape him, and deep down you know the same thing. His confidence let´s him be calm, while your panic clouds every thought. The woods around the cabin are familiar to him, while you struggle not to fall. No matter where you turn, you know he will still be on your trail. You can hear him whistling behind you. And when his weight suddenly slams into your back, his knees pressing into your back, as you hit the ground. He lets out a delighted hoot. It´s only slowly, that he will get off from you. Pulling you from the forest floor, absent-mindedly patting dirt from your clothes, as he pulls you back to the cabin.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

He leans over you. At the moment you are still sleeping. Completely unaware of the intruder in your home. He can´t help himself, but to reach out, and softly caress your face. You won´t wake up. Not yet. You are a surprisingly heavy sleeper, as he just finds out, and it suits him just fine. He looks around your room for a moment, shuffling through your papers, rummaging through your pictures. There is a smile on his face, but soon enough, he looses interest in that. The source of it all, after all still sleeps right there. You scream, when you wake up. His face is covered, as you kick and scream, desperately trying to get him off of you. He doesn´t budge. He easily pulls you from your bed, and before you know it, slams your head against the edge of it. Your screaming stops as you dazedly look around. Everything seems to swim and dance. You mumble out something like that and he just laughs quietly, as he lifts you from the ground, half-dragging you from your room, out of your home. You don´t know it yet, but it is the last time you´ll ever see it.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He looks at you laying on his bed. Still unconscious. You´re breathing peacefully, blood dripples down your face. Not that you notice it. With a quiet sigh, he stands up to get a wet cloth. Carefully dabbing at your wound, he wonders why he even took you in the first place. His tongue clicks, more annoyance than tick, as his head rolls to the side. Settling back down into the chair to watch you, he drums his fingers anxiously on the armrest. He already knows how this will end. No matter, what he will try or attempt, how much he wants to trust in you. There is only one possible ending left for you and him. You will leave him. You will betray him. And he, in a fit of rage will kill you. It´s almost sobering, and he chuckles slightly. He always set himself up for disappointment, but he doesn´t mind. It´s always nice, while it lasts. You twitch, seems like this story is about to start. He doesn´t know the middle, but it comforts him, that he already knows its end.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

You had noticed, before he came for you, that the people you would get closer to, would vanish. They would become the victims of gruesome murders. His murders, as you had to realize later. The rage he felt, upon seeing you with someone else, drove him, to murder them in a gruesome fashion. It calmed him down tremendously. Toby would later talk to you, about his murders. Seeming almost proud, as he looked at you. Either not caring, or not recognizing the horror you would mirror back at him. Wide eyes, short breath. For him, you looked excited. And so he kept talking. Happy to share his stories with you. While you slowly realize, that you won´t get away from him alive. Not with how easy killing seems to be for him.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

You watch his every step. But that isn´t surprising. You just woke up in this place one day. Him chattering endlessly into your ear. If the situation was any different, it would be easier for you to admit. Toby is actually quite sweet, when it comes to you. He has his mood swings were he is annoyed and in general aggravated by everything, but you also noticed, that he distances himself from you before that. You see, that he quiet literally bites his tongue, and just waves you away instead. His entire behaviour just tells you how much he adores you. He tends to sticks close to you. He listens attentively, when you say something. You´re always touching somehow, with how he tries to cuddle up to you.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He was picking at his cheek again. Pulling at the edges of the wound with his fingers, when he clasped his hand in his lap to stop himself from ripping it open even further, he unconsciously started to prod it with his tongue. Toby was nervous. Terribly so. His eyes track your movements almost lazily. He perks up when he notices, who you are talking to and his teeth grit. When blood suddenly pools into his mouth, he opens it again, and carefully feels out, how much of his tongue he accidentally bit off now again. Not much. Lucky. It would be a lot easier if he could approach you. Felt confident enough in himself, to simply go up to you and introduce himself. He ticks. His head rolling to the side, as he clicks his tongue. It repeats several times, before it finally stops again. The stress is slowly getting to him, which only makes everything worse. After all, he is very aware of how he looks – his hair is disheveled, his clothes always dirty, there is a giant hole in his cheek and he looks like he hasn´t slept in days – and the habits he has – the ticks, so many of them, the stutter, and quite frankly the social ineptitude – that approaching you can only become a disaster. So he thinks of something else, as he watches you disappear behind your door, checking the lock quickly, as he leaves. It´s not a very good one. It would be easy for him. And well, once you´re with him, it can´t be that bad, right? With a grin, he hounds down your newest suitor, happily whistling, as he already plans to come back tonight.

Mask: Are their true colours drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

It´s hard for him to control his emotions in any manner. He tries sometimes. Leaves, when he feels, how his emotions nearly overrun him. But it never works. His mouth is often so much faster, than his mind can keep up with. He talks about blood and guts, and how fun killing those guys were. How much fun it was. All the while not even realizing, that you aren´t enjoying what he talks about. Sometimes he simply sits down next to you, refusing to say anything, as he simply watches how you move. He knows, that he will say the wrong thing again, when he opens his mouth. It´s inevitable for him. He can feel the tension building up in his body, and the sudden way, that it releases again. Sometimes it´s just a click of the tongue, a slight twitch, and other times a full body shiver. He never could hide, mask like other people did. With his body, his emotions. And over time, he stopped trying. He grew more careful, sure, but he was always true to himself.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

You look at him. He is shaking, as he tries to take deep breaths. You can see, that he is trying to say something, but it seems like he has problems forming the words. His brows furrow, almost like he is in pain, and then he violently twitches. His head drops down to his shoulder, there is a loud crack, and you flinch away. You can see, that he suddenly looses his balance, and drops to the floor. His attempts at speaking stop, as he simply rides out the ticks. For a moment you wait, breath held, to see what he will do next. He is slow, when he pushes himself back to his feet. You can tell, that he is still angry, and his stutter is worse. „Go away!“ He points to the room, he shares with you, and you don´t try to fight him on it. You leave. Slide down the door. Only moments later, you can hear things breaking, screaming. It doesn´t stop. His crying gets louder, as he lets out his frustrations on the furniture. Nothing will be left standing in his path. You are safe in the room. Still scared.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

You try to run, when he leaves the hut for the first time. You can´t believe, that this is supposed to be your new home or whatever he calls it. It makes you sound like some sort of stray animal, that he picked up on the way. It aggravates you. When you finally get the damn lock on the door open, you don´t wait for another moment. You´re out of the door and running. The forest is not familiar to you, you don´t even know, if you´re close to your actual home. A giddy laugh almost escapes you, that is tragically cut short, when the handle of a hatchet just barely misses you head. Ducking, you stumble forward. Turning to the side, you can see the man – What was his name again? Toby? – watching you. Though, you can´t see his eyes through his googles. He stands still for one moment. In the next, he is already upon you. Throwing you down to the floor, his weight enough to immobilize you. „Not now. Let´s play later, kay?“, with that he simply starts to drag you back. The hand around your ankle like a vice, as he slowly, but clearly not bothered by you, makes his way back to the hut.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

You swallow. Completely unnerved by the way, he is looking at you. Wide eyes staring at you. Almost lazily, he makes clicking sound with his tongue. It´s strange to someone act like this. You carefully try to move further away from him, hoping that a greater distance will lessen the absolute terror you are feeling at the moment. It doesn´t work. Instead a smile slowly grows on his face. His eyes bright. The gaping wound on his cheek wrapping to accommodate the change. You shudder. He lowly starts to talk. His voice nothing but a whisper. He stutter, you notice, and if you would actually listen to what he says, you would notice, that sometime he interrupts himself with a strange term or phrase. But you don´t, so you only notice his stutter. Not that you are focusing on that either, as he slowly crawls over to you. Closer and closer, till he can reach you again. His fingers twist themselves into the hem of your clothing, as he keeps talking to you. His eyes unwavering. Looking at you. Maybe even through you. You don´t know. All you can focus on is the way he holds on to you. Careful. Afraid. Not willing to let go. Never letting you leave.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

You have stopped to answer him for quite some time now. No matter what he says, you seem to ignore him. At this point, he is sure, that he said something to upset you, but he doesn´t know what it was. And he can´t ask you either, because you are giving him the silent treatment. Well, he talks enough to fill the silence between the two of you by himself. And you always had been a good listener. Though recently he started to notice a saccharine smell clinging to everything, like rot or mould, in the hut. He shrugs it off, and helps you to the living room. Unmoving. So still, but he hefts you up anyway to carry you over. He absent-mindedly wonders, if you would at least eat something today. He talks to fill the silence. The smell of decay his most loyal friend. And you. Or whatever is left of you.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Sometimes he does wonders. He looks at you, and imagines a world where the two of you could have met differently. Before long though, he will shake his head again, forgetting this flight of fancy, as he focuses on what he has. There is no use for him to cry over lost opportunities. There are already so many things, that he doesn´t know. So many things, that he had forgot. He will watch you, stay close to you, in this little hut, that he calls his home. Sometimes, he will wonder again, when you cry yourself to sleep. But instead of wondering for long, he simply takes you in his arms to shush you back to sleep. There is nothing he can do about it now. He doesn´t regret taking you. Because he knows, he would have regretted it more to let you go.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Some days, Toby will flinch away from loud men screaming with rage, without knowing why. He will look at some girls, and wonder why they seem familiar to him, as if they remind of someone he once knew. When he works, he sometimes hums something under his breath, without knowing the words to the melody. Even then, he is sure, that when he tries to sing you to sleep, that the words would be in a language he had forgotten a long time ago. He is reminded of a past, that doesn´t exist any more for him. Toby has lost many pieces of himself. Too many. He can´t give anything of himself away any more, without becoming hollow. So, when he gave you his heart without knowing, he had to keep it close. No matter what.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

There is a heavy clump in his chest, pressing down on his lungs, as you let out another anguished wail. He was fighting against his won tears, as he tried to calm you down, but nothing was working. He couldn´t even remember what had upset you so suddenly, or when you had started to cry like this. He coos at you, pulling you into his arms with a hug. Peppering kisses across your face – over the bridge of your nose, your eyes, before pressing one deeply to your forehead – while he carded through your hair. Even if he didn´t understand why you so sad, he knew that the two of you would get through this. Together.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Before long, you notice, that his mood tends to be... unstable. It´s not something, that is very surprising at first – the whole man seems to be the definition of unstable – and yet it is still something, that you notice quite often. Because no matter what you do, he will still lash out without rhyme or reason. Sometimes at you, sometimes when he quite literally recoils from you to leave the room. It´s quite – at least that´s one word for it – strange. Another thing, that tends to draw your attention is how he clings to you. No matter where you go or what you try to do – When he is there, he will hold onto you. Most days he will try to fill the silence with his talking, still always keeping an eye on you as if waiting for your approval. On other days, he will be quiet, but his hand will be fisted into your sleeves, as he simply holds on. The strangest thing, though, is how used you get to him.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

He was gone again. You didn´t know if it would only be hours, days or maybe even weeks. You look over the little hut, he called home and you called far less favourable things. You think about it for a moment longer. Then decide „Fuck it!“ and bolt. You don´t if you will run directly into his arms or if you will actually get away. But event then, he could still catch up to you. Doubt floods your mind, but for the moment you are free. You would laugh, if he didn´t remind you so much of yourself at the moment. Because no matter how much you wanted forget, you could never quite do it. Leave behind the days on which you would basically barricade yourself into your room to avoid all possible contact with other people, and instead of doing something – anything – productive, stare at your wall for several hours. You understood him in that moment, and quite frankly hated yourself quite a bit for it as well. You sat down next to him, and wondered if he would even care in this state, if you simply walked out of the door.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

It happens quickly. Like everything with him does. Without warning or any prompting. No sign for you. Nothing. One moment, he is still cuddling up to you. And while you are uncomfortable with it, you still let him do what he wants. He is talking about something or the other – you aren´t really listening to him – while you pet his hair slowly. Tousling it one way and then another, as you hum every once in a while. You could almost call it peaceful. And in the next moment, he is screaming. Cursing loudly, he lashes out. You shriek in fright, when he goes for your face. The pain is sharp, when his fingernails cut your cheek open. He is nearly spitting, as he yowls in anger. He throws himself away from you, as you start to sob quietly. Tearing at his hair, he flees from the room. Later, he will apologize. All soft again. „Sorry, sorry“, he wont´t stop repeating, as he wipes the dried blood away, and presses a soft kiss to your face, which he cradles between his palms. „Love you“. Still you can´t help but to notice the slight tremor running through his limps from now on.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Toby likes to bring you gifts. Sometimes, at least. It´s never something grand. Little things, that reminded him of you, that he presents to you with a smile. It´s almost cute. Though sometimes, when he thinks you aren´t looking, you see the mask fall. How his eyes take in your reaction. He is manipulating you. You know that. Doesn´t mean, you know how to stop it. He likes to think, that he is a good boyfriend. He adores you. But worship? Revering you? No, thank you. He likes to be close to you. Likes to hold you. Likes to play fight with you. He likes the quiet moments, and the screams. But some days, he hates you as well. He knows that. It´s nothing, that he can change. He could never worship you. You and him are too human for that. Just mortals. Just people. But that is what he loves most about you. Being human.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

He had forgotten, when he had started to follow you around. Has it been a week, a month? Maybe it had been summer back then, he muses, as snow melts on his gloves. He doesn´t remember the first moment, he saw you. But he does remember, that he always recognized you. No matter how much time had passed. He always felt like he knew you. Maybe he did. He wouldn´t know. He has forgotten so many things, that were supposed to be important. A low growl escapes him, as you entertain another idiot. No matter how often he cleans up, there always more of them vying for your attention. Seems like tonight will be busy for him again. He wonders if you would like to hear all the stories, he collected while watching over you. Though, they might be a bit bloody for your taste. He clicks his tongue, a low whistle following, as his eyes follow you again. Maybe one day, he will make sure, that no one else can get your attention except him.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

He watches your every move carefully. Afraid, that he accidentally hurt you again. He knows, that he feels pain different than you do. He knows, that you deal with some things differently than he does. He knows all of that. So, he watches you. He sees it, when your eyes go glassy. When your facial expressions start to dull. He sees it. He knows something is wrong, when you lean in close to him. Sighing almost wistfully, as you intertwine your hands. You never done that before. He tries to break you out of this mood. Maybe you need something new to entertain you? Maybe some fresh air? It´s not like he adores you like this too, but he worries over you. When your spark does not return to you, he gives up. Instead, he simply leans closer to you, holds your hand like he always wanted to, and tells you of his day. You don´t flinch, and he doesn´t mind.

#yandere #yandere ticci toby #yandere alphabet #xreader #creepypasta #ticci toby #yandere headcanon #ticci toby creepypasta #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby x reader #yandere creepypasta

245 notes · View notes

nico-esoterica · 3 months ago

Text

How to Uproot Your Deepest Fears & Change Your Life Forever:

Shadow work, essentially. Whenever I feel apprehension or fear around anything, I investigate it down to its root and I'm completely emotionally honest with myself about it. I give myself all of the love, grace, and compassion in the world and I start asking myself very simple and direct questions that I feel I need to answer.

When you give yourself the space to be brutally honest about how you genuinely feel about things, you get to the root immediately. Imo, I think it's easier to do when you're somewhere safe and isolated with zero distractions and immediate responsibilities. Do not judge yourself. Just be honest. Sometimes I like to pretend that I'm venting to a trusted person I've made up.

Identify what your ongoing concerns are. Anything that makes your chest tight or puts your stomach in knots.

How does x make you feel? Why?

Where did you learn that from? Is this belief yours or someone else's?

Is there anything about this bothering you? Why do you permit it?

Do you think you can control this? Why/Why not?

What about this scares you? Why?

Is this a behavior you want to change? Why is it hard to let it go?

Are you making this harder on yourself? Why?

In the grand scope of things, will this truly hinder anything?

You'll just keep going with these. They'll pour out of you and you'll realize you've been carrying someone else's baggage or years of pent of resentment or anxiety around people or situations which aren't relevant anymore. You can let go of that whenever you please. But it's also important to feel the catharsis of acknowledging and processing them. Get as emotional and messy with yourself as you want. After, you can release the tension you've been holding around it and let it fall away. Even though they're harmful, the brain adopts them as programs to inform and protect us. When they're outdated, they can be replaced.

At the base of yourself, you can start planting new beliefs. But as any great caregiver, you need to consistently nurture them. If you're triggered, you remind yourself of your power and of that new belief you've planted. It may feel like learning to do anything new as a child. First, it feels scary and uncomfortable. But then it becomes second nature.

You've always had the power. Now you know :)

#loa #manifestation #shadow work #image source: outlander s3 ep12

65 notes · View notes

glitteryapricotranchbiscuit · 1 year ago

Note

Hi uhm. I don't usually send in asks, buuut I would really like to see some rough dom Ayato x male reader, if you could? If you're not comfortable with male reader, I'd be good with gn!

I feel Ayato would have the most sweetly condescending words, a big mix of praise and degradation, but he'd be so rough and mean, teasing when you whine and cry

♡ Imagine dom!Ayato enjoying playing with his puppy ♡

!● warnings: male reader, praising, degradation, rough Ayato, calling you puppy, sub!male reader, rimming, very smut, NSFW🔞 no minors or I’ll eat u alive

notes: I'm more than comfortable with writing for the male readers here 😩💕 Anyone is welcome my dear! AND SORRY THAT IT TOOK SO LONG, had recently lots of stress qwq

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Ayato's and your's story collided very fast together. Simply put, during Ayato’s morning routine training, he saw you wedeling the sword. Well, you told yourself you tried to get better but in Ayato’s eyes it looked like you were fighting bees. After this time both of you trained together. He taught you lots of cool sword techniques and loved your cute reactions whenever he made a smooth movement. After some weeks he invited you over. You were pretty nervous since it was a big deal to get an invitation from the Kamisato Clan, especially from the head of the Clan itself! As soon as you were allowed to enter the very scary and big looking house, you waited in his office. In the morning he told you it would be an important conversation between him and you. Since he also looked pretty serious while telling you this, you were nervous. Of course, who wouldn’t be nervous around Ayato? Fumbling around your clothing made you look like a young person waiting to get scolded. It’s something that your mother always told you. “(y/n)! Stop fumbling around your clothes, it will make it look messy.” You said quietly to yourself while smiling. Little did you not notice that Ayato and Thoma entered the office. Your cheeks immediately turned to a light pink shade before you saw Thoma smiling. “Oh yeah, right, should I get something to drink or anything light to eat for you…?” Thoma also questioned Ayato who sat down on his comfortable ground pillow to sort the files he was holding before. “No, thank you. It won’t take long between (y/n) and me.” Ayato smiled with his usual impression at your direction. Before turning towards Thoma who was about to go. “And please make sure that no one interrupts us.” With a short bow Thoma left the office and closed the door behind it. Before you could turn around to Ayato, he interrupted you. “Sit closer to me. You don’t need to be shy around me.” This time his smile wasn’t masked. It felt like he genuinely wanted you to see him like this. It was so soft you could drown in it. Without wasting more time you stand up, lightly tap your cloth back to normal before sitting in front of him which he seemed not to like. “We have done much more … intimate things than this, (y/n). Come here.” He pointed at his lap. Yes, he was right. Both of you did not only train together but also had some very important business to take care of in his changing room… or behind the tree where no one would catch you guys or even one time in the small storage room. It was mostly you who was on the knees and sucking his dick. Of course it was all consent! After all he did not want to hurt you or let you feel uncomfortable since he was in a way higher position than you would ever be.

After you finally placed your ass on his lap, his arms curled around your waist. You could feel his hot breath on your neck while he hugged you closer on him. “Ahhh~ I’m sorry if this was sudden for you to be here. You are a good guard and studied a lot the past weeks.” While Ayato casually talked to you, his hands spread your legs open, rubbing around your clothed dick. “I saw potential in you since the first time I laid my eyes on you.” You started to shiver from the light kisses on your neck and the friction between your legs which he caused with every rub. It definitely made you excited which he noticed. Without a comment, Ayato turned you around and gave you a soft kiss on the mouth. You were surprised but welcomed it. Both of your mouths melted together as time passed. To sum up, your relationship with Ayato was currently living with pleasure, like an open relationship even though you were loyal towards Ayato and never thought of someone else to love except him.

„Undress yourself. Don‘t worry about someone walking in. The door is closed and I don‘t have any important meetings to attend currently. We are basically free to do whatever we desire.“

Your hand rested on his chest to not lose balance while you undressed yourself. Ayato himself leaned back and watched you intensely. This made you nervous and he could sense it. Like a predator waiting for his prey. A light touch was enough to make your hair on your skin stand up immediately. It excited you a lot and now in this situation where you are basically sitting on top of him ready to undress yourself, it makes your heart beat louder inside your chest. First you started to undress your unnecessary armory. You tossed them on the ground which caused some loud sounds but Ayato just chuckled when he saw your surprised expression. „You are cute when you are worried.“ A slight pout formed by you before you turned away. „H-How should I start, my lord?“

Oh how his ears are blessed to hear you call him with lord. „Awww, I want my puppy to be quiet or else I won’t be gentle with you. ” As soon as he said it, his hands wandered around your naked body. Exploring your cold skin. Your nipples were getting hard. It felt like you were starving for his touches. He chuckled a bit and stopped exploring your touches. As soon as his hands left your body you leaned towards him almost falling into his lap, embarrassed that it almost happened, your cheeks turned slightly red. “Sit back on my lap", Ayato demanded. You did as he ordered and sat back on his lap facing him. Your arms wrapped around his neck. “Can I kiss you, my lord?”, you shyly asked and he gave you a nod. Another kiss but this time you gained a bit more confidence. As soon as your lips collided together, you tried to apart his lips with your wet tongue. He noticed how eager you were and accepted the tongue battle. Of course he would win against you, so he decided to make this last long enough. Both of you were strong opponents but you knew you would lose against Ayato no matter how strong you tried to press against him. While you tried to gain dominance against him, your arms slipped down from his shoulders letting your concentration fade. The kiss ended and you tried to catch your breath but Ayato started to rub your dick which caused you to moan out loud. You immediately held both of your hands on your mouth, showing how embarrassed you got, Ayato increased his gentle touches. Your body leaned against him while both of Ayato's hands wrapped around your dick. Getting a handjob by him while he still wears his elegant gloves, gives an extra friction on your dick. It makes you feel even hotter. “A-ayato… p-please…”, your voice cracked higher as soon as he stopped his movements to squeeze your dick gently. “Puppy, what did I tell you?”, blue eyes staring at yours. He was serious about being silent so you nodded and covered your mouth again. As a little reward he kisses your forehead and restarts rubbing your dick. Since there was no lubricator, he used your pre-cum. His gloves however started to get soaked by it making it harder to make you feel good. His movements increased suddenly making you squeal quietly. Ayato knew exactly when to stop when you were getting closer to your first orgasm. You concentrate harder not to moan out, so you bite on your lower lips, closing your eyes, heavy breathing until … there was no release at all. Confused why Ayato stopped, you open your eyes to meet a grinning Ayato. Your eyes filled slowly with tears while your body reacted and grind slowly on his lap. Your revealed dick on his clothed one. “Say your words.”, he demanded again. It excited him to see you all submissive to him. Wanting to get the sweet release, you grinded a bit faster on his lap, causing Ayato’s body to jump up a bit. “P-please I need to cum.” As soon as he heard your voice, he grabbed you by the neck and kissed you again. This was the moment you knew that you could grind faster and harder against him, almost jumping on his hard dick, you chased after your orgasm. Seconds later you cummed on his clothing, making it dirty by accident while Ayato stopped the kiss to let you breathe. Looking down on him, you also noticed that his pants were stained inside. Did he also cum? Before you could ask him, he grabbed your ass and sat you down on his deck. Surprised by the sudden action you blink a bit. “(y/n) it is now my turn to feel good too, no?”

Zipping his pants open, his glorious dick bounced out where you now saw that it was covered in cum. “How shall I help you, my lord?”, you asked playfully, not expecting him to chuckle at your answer, giving you a quick kiss on the nose. “You know what I want, don't you?” It was such a softer reaction than you used from him. Usually he would slap you or hold your breath, but this time it was a bit different. You liked it, which was showing off with your red cheeks. Of course you obliged and were more than happy to spread your legs apart to show him your ass.

Ayato then proceeds to knee down to go between your legs. Using his tongue to lubricate your asshole, stimulating with his moans too, making your own dick again harder. The deeper he got with his tongue the more you tried not to moan out.

“Oh yes… right there, Ayatooohh~~ aah~”

You lay down on your back and close your eyes. You were getting aroused by his tentacle-like tongue. After a while Ayato stands up and spanks your asscheek. Leaving your hole begging to get filled. “Wake up, puppy, show me you sweet ass~”, he waited until you positioned yourself back up to spread your asshole. With a quick few strokes on his own dick, he pushed himself inside you, hugging you completely. He was dominating you here fully and started to move with a fast space. You couldn’t even relax fully when Ayato’s movement even increased when you tried to push him a bit away from you. “W-wait, Ay–”, he shuts your mouth with a deep kiss while still going rough on you. He completely fucked you without any mercy but there was something that you loved about this. Even though it started to hurt you, you still enjoyed it. Even if your eyes are filled with tears; even if you saw in Ayato’s eyes only the lust for you, it was enjoyable. With a hug you pressed yourself into him, while Ayato got sloppier the more he chased his own orgasm. Turned on from your nails digging inside his back, he moaned inside the kiss. You shut your eyes down almost cumming with him, he let go of the kiss and fully focused on fucking you harder into the desk. “ughn…” and with that he finishes off inside you, completely filling you until the brim. As soon as he pushes himself out of you, you cummed finally, embarrassed by the feeling of liking him to go rough on you. His breath irregularly, his eyes looking down at the mess he made, slapping your asscheek hard to see the cum coming out of your ass. “Heh… look at you.” Now grabbing your ass and starting to massaging it. “I think I will dismiss more meetings today.”, smiling at you while you tried to calm down from your own high.

“Y-yes, my lord.”

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-Banner made by @/benkaibear (or just click on the image to get it)

#glittery stuff #genshin x male reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #ayato smut #genshin impact #ayato x reader #ayato x male reader

494 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 1 year ago

Note

Howdy, friend. I’ve been stewing for months trying to think of a fluff request to send you, but I’ve come up short bc I generally have smut on the brain. But I think I did find something!

Eddie, not really knowing how to about telling you how he feels, does something extravagant for your birthday—the first birthday he’s been around for? 👀

AN | Eddie would absolutely plan the best birthday ever! Enjoy 🥰

Warnings | None

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I can't believe you didn't tell me," you looked up from the book you were reading and found Eddie dramatically throwing himself onto the couch. He hadn't been bothered to knock before letting himself into your apartment. You loved that you were both on that level of friendship, "I thought what we had was special."

"Umm…hello to you too?" You bookmarked your page before tossing the book onto the coffee table, "what was it that I didn't tell you?"

"Your birthday," he hissed, lifting his head up and glaring at you from between his messy curls, "you didn't tell me it was next week!"

"I wasn't aware that I had to," you giggled at his dramatics as he scoffed at you. You known him for almost a year now but this was the first birthday of yours that you were spending together, "its not a big deal, Ed. I don't really do much for my birthday normally. It's just another day."

"Another day?" He sat up and clutched at his heart as he shook his head, "I can't believe you're saying that surviving another year of life is no big deal. It's like…a huge deal."

"Eddie," you got up from your comfy, overstuffed armchair and sat down next to him on the couch. He had such a big heart and always showed his love for those around him - it was one of the most endearing things about him, "you are so sweet and lovely, truly. But I don't need anything fancy. Just having you in my life is plenty."

He looked at you with a lopsided grin that was nothing short of magical. You put your hand on his knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. He sighed softly, nudging your side with his elbow and hoping you wouldn't notice the bubblegum hue of his cheeks, "I like having you in my life too, princess. A lot."

If only you knew just how very much.

"Good," you stood up and stretched, unaware of how closely he was watching your every move, "glad we're on the same page. Now come, I was gonna watch make hot chocolate and watch a scary movie. You in?"

"As if that was ever a question," he bounced to his feet and followed after you eagerly, "wait - do you have any mini marshmallows?"

"Duh. I'm not a monster."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie wasn't exactly sure what he was going to going to do for your birthday but he knew he was going to do something. It would be something big and all out. He had to let you know how he felt, or at least strongly suggest. He wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to be just your friend.

Quite frankly, he'd fallen in love with you a long time ago. Probably when he'd met you that night at the bar. The two of you were strangers, both new to New York and without friends. He'd been the first man you'd met that hadn't made you feel uncomfortable and the two of you clicked instantly. You'd quickly become best friends.

But along with that, Eddie had learned about your past heartbreak, including the one that had left you unsure of ever wanting another relationship. That was largely the reason Eddie had made sure to keep things on a friendly level. He didn't want to push you away.

Now though, he couldn't hold it back any longer. He longed to hold your hand, to kiss you and touch. Everything - all of it. He wanted it all with you. Despite all the baggage you insisted you had, Eddie wanted you and only. He had lots of baggage too, that's what he always reminded you of. But it didn't matter - you had each other.

You could tell that he was up to something, he’d been acting weird. And that was saying a lot for Eddie. You tried to ask him a few times but he never admitted to anything, and kept insisting that everyone was fine and normal. Peachy.

Internally, meanwhile, Eddie was anything but peachy. He was busy trying to plan the best birthday ever. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to do anything for your birthday, it just had never been a big deal for you. As long as you were surrounded by the people you loved and cared about, all was well. This year, you’d realized, it would be different - you didn’t have a ton of friends in New York (save for Eddie of course) and your family was scattered. You didn’t really have any plans or intent to make any plans. You’d have been happy with heading home after work and enjoying some takeout or pizza from one of your favorite places and watching a movie. Preferably with Eddie, but you weren’t going to force anything on him. The last thing you would ever want to do would be to chase him away.

“Eddie?” you cut through his thoughts when you waved your hand in front of his face. The two of you were out at dinner, hitting up your usual weekend spot. He blinked a few times before properly looking at you, “you alright there, space cadet?”

“Mhmm,” he grabbed a big bite of his pasta and shoved it in his mouth, chewing carefully and thoughtfully in order to have a moment to think of what to say to you. You set your own fork down and picked up your beer, drinking the rest of it while staring Eddie down. He was not getting away with his odd little behavior any longer - not that you thought he had anything to hide of course.

“Mhmm,” you repeated slowly as he swallowed thickly, “what’s up, Eddie? You’ve been acting so on edge this week. Did something happen?”

“No! No,” he calmed down, face warming up as you raised an eyebrow at him, “I was just thinking about your birthday.”

“My birthday,” you repeated as he nodded like you were the crazy one for not making a bigger deal out of your own birthday, “what about it?”

“I just wanted to know if you had any plans and if you didn’t if there was something you wanted to do,” your heart constricted at the sweet smile on his face as you blinked back the stinging at the back of your eyes. No one had ever been as considerate about Eddie, “I don’t want to intrude or just assume that you’d even want to hang out with me but yeah.”

“Of course I want to spend time with you, Eddie. I always want to spend time with you,” you reached across the table and put your hand on top of his and gave it a gentle squeeze, “but just to be clear, I don’t have any plans and I’d love to spend the day with you.”

“O-oh,” his doe eyes grew wide as he let what you had said sink in, “wow. Cool. Is there anything in particular you want to do? Any ideas or requests?”

“I don’t need anything special,” you shook your head sweetly, “just wanna spend time with you, that’s all.”

“Sweetheart,” he huffed dramatically in that very Eddie way that you adored. You laughed softly as he leaned in, “you realize that I’m not going to let that happen, right?”

“Yeah,” you leaned, so close that you could almost kiss him - and you wanted to. You really wanted to. But you couldn’t just go ahead and do that. Not now….but maybe one day, “I know, Eddie.”

“Good,” he reached up and gently booped your nose which only caused you to giggle. He loved that sound way too much - it always made you feel a certain type of way, “I shall plan the day’s festivities then and your only job will be to attend. If you would happen to be agreeable to this of course.”

“I am more than agreeable,” you promised. You had a feeling that somehow this was going to be the best birthday ever. Even just the sheer fact of getting to spend it with Eddie was more than enough.

If only you knew that Eddie felt the exact same way.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Eddie had said that he had a great day planned for your birthday, he hadn’t been kidding. Since it was the weekend, you both had the entire day to spend together. It started early in the morning with Eddie coming over to your apartment to take you out to see the sunrise, followed by breakfast at your favorite brunch spot. Normally you wouldn’t have been such an early riser but you had to admit that there was something magical about being up early with only Eddie around and watching the beautiful colors shift and bloom on the horizon.

After that it was a day of adventures with running around the city, trying to put together the puzzles of the scavenger hunt that Eddie had put together. Because of course he had - it was just a very Eddie thing to do. Eddie was thoroughly amused watching you run around and try to figure out his cryptic riddles. It was even better when your face lit up with each piece that you put together and all the treasures you found along the way.

The day ended up with the two of you outside of the city, at a small restaurant that had a perfect view of the sunset. It was such a sweet gesture and felt incredibly romantic and it definitely settled something within your soul.

“I don’t think I could have imagined a better day than this, Eddie,” you whispered softly, his eyes reverent and tender as he looked you over. Truthfully, he couldn’t quite have imagined a better day either, “this was really wonderful. No one’s ever done anything this thoughtful for me before.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you ate in silence, exchanging shy glances every now and then. Something between the two of you had definitely shifted and while you weren’t quite sure what it was, it definitely felt good. After a little while, Eddie set down his fork and cleared his throat, capturing your attention.

“I have to get this out or I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do this,” your eyes widened in surprise as you tried to figure out what Eddie could possibly be referring to. Your mind immediately went to the worst and you were sure that he was going to find some way to end your friendship. You had no clue what you’d do without him - he’d become such a huge part of your life. Honestly, he was probably the singular most important part of your life.

“Eddie?” your eyes started to tear up when he didn’t say anything for a few moments. He seemed to be looking anywhere but your eyes…until he finally found the courage to. It was hard to read what was in those pretty brown eyes, but you didn’t detect any malice. That was good at least, “what is it?”

“I…” he ran a hand through his curls and let out a low sigh, “I’m in love with you.”

Time seemed to stand still as his words rang around in your head over and over. You tested out every possible meaning of his words. But then it hit you that there was only one - and there was always only one - possible answer.

“Oh,” you blinked at him and his cheeks warmed up as he tried not to panic because of your lack of a full response, “oh.”

“I-I know that you said you have a lot of baggage and umm don’t necessarily want another relationship,” he stammered nervously, letting out a nervous chuckle, “and I’d never want to pressure you or anything to have a relationship or anything more, but I just wanted you to know. It felt wrong not to tell you, like I was being dishonest with you and myself.”

“Eddie-”

“I hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us,” he whispered. He was slowly starting to feel like this had been the wrong decision, “I, umm, you’re just so amazing and I love everything about you and I-I-”

“Eddie.”

“I know you say you have baggage and I have it too and I just…there’s no else I could imagine doing this with,” he was stammering so nervously now that it was nothing but endearing. It still felt like a bit of a wild dream - you’d always imagined that you’d be the one in his position, spilling your guts out to him, “I want to spend my life with you. I want to share all our baggage, no matter how heavy. I just…love you a lot.”

Your lips pulled into a pout before you let out a small sigh. Before you could say anything, you took his face in your hands, brushing your thumb over his cheek before pressing your lips to his and kissing him gently. When you pulled back he looked at you in pure shock and surprise. You couldn’t contain your little giggle of nervous excitement as he pulled himself back to reality.

“So…umm,” he waved his hands around nervously as he had a tendency to do, “wow. Did you really do that? Did that happen?”

“Yes,” you laughed softly, resting your forehead on his shoulder, “that actually happened, Edward.”

“Does that mean that you might feel the same way? About me?” you lifted her head and pressed a few kisses along his jaw. You put your hand on his neck, gently ghosting your fingers along his soft skin. You felt him practically shiver at your touch; he was watching your every move with curious, soft eyes.

“Yeah,” a wistful little sound escaped your lips, “I do, Eddie. More than you could ever know. You mean the world to me, you silly, wonderful, amazing man.”

“Wow,” he couldn’t help himself as he leaned in and pressed a soft, tentative kiss to your lips. He could feel your lips pulling into a smile and that made him feel something he couldn’t quite put into words, “will you say it again? Please?”

“I love you, Eddie Munson,” you beamed at him, stomach flipping in happy somersaults, “I want you and only you - every last little bit. I thought I never wanted another relationship again. Turns out, I just had to be patient and wait for the right person - you.”

“Sweetheart,” he never realized until that very moment just how much he needed to hear those words. No one had ever said anything like that to him before, no one had ever chosen him like that - no one had ever loved him like you did, “fuck - I am going to marry the hell out of you one day.”

Your mouth dropped open and pulled into a sugary sweet smile. Of course Eddie would make a declaration like that - but you also knew that he was being serious. In his very own Eddie way, he’d just made a promise that you both knew he would keep.

“Well, I’ll look forward to that,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “I hope you intend on making good on that promise.”

“Oh I will,” he threw his arms around you in a tight squeeze, giving you what might have been the best hug of all time, “I will. Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Eddie,” you burrowed yourself into him as much as possible, melting into his gentle touch and warmth, “this has been the best birthday ever.”

“For now - I’ll make it even better next year!”

“I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you, birthday girl.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #st #joseph quinn

273 notes · View notes

berylcups · 1 month ago

Text

What creeps out La Squadras the most???

CW: Bug mention, MANstruation, poo poo, social anxiety, clowns

Notes: all phobias are valid no matter how "Silly"! I'm afraid of spiders, most bugs, thunderstorms, using the telephone, and big doggos. Most of the stuff below is me self projecting lmao. This is meant to be something silly for the spooky season. I am also going to do a serious deep dive on the boys and serious phobias so look forward to that later (If you're cool with that, Im going to get DEEP-DEEP) Lets share our silly fears with our favorite boys! 💜 Beryl

Risotto

What’s one “silly” fear they have: House Centipedes - this big man… hates house centipedes with a PASSION. If he finds one in the room he must destroy it immediately. Don’t tell him that they are beneficial—he doesn’t care. They are already dead before you can even finish your lecture.

How do they cope with this fear: He tries to keep his home tidy by not letting having those critters a place to hide. He doesn’t leave laundry on the floor and dusts under furniture frequently. Nothing more than four limbs are allowed to be in his space or face death from the leader of the hitman team!

How did this fear develop: As a young teen he was a bit of a messy boy. Leaving laundry and drink cans and dirty plates around his room. Of course these critters show up in all types of homes but… he was sound asleep on his bed until he felt a tickling sensation on his face… He gently slapped it thinking it was his Nonnas cat pestering him to wake up. But he did not feel a paw but a buggy like object on his face. He jumped and slapped it away to see in horror—a house centipede badly beaten on his bed scurrying back into the chaotic mess of his room! Only his nonna ever heard his terrified screams and took it to the grave with her when she passed from old age…

Formaggio

What’s one “silly” fear do they have: self flushing public toilets - why are they flushing when he isn’t done pooping?! He hasn’t even got to wipe yet! That’s sooooo rude! He wants to flush on his own accord—he needs a reliable lever so he can courtesy flush when things get noisy. 😬 you can’t do that with a self flushing toilet… that and the unexpected flush jumpscares him.

How do they cope with this fear: I don’t know if you can call it “coping” but he always goes to the bathroom at home before he goes anywhere! But God forbid if he has an emergency, he scopes out the toilets beforehand. If it’s automatic then well…his colon is just going to have to hold it! Because he ain’t going in there to get jumpscared by an auto toilet. 🚽😭

How did this fear develop: He had to go to the bathroom while he was shopping at the local supermarket and duty called. Some little bastard kid shoved a bunch of paper towels down the toilet before him and when he got to use it—it flushed when he was half way done and clogged up with dirty toilet water backing up with the toilet still trying to flush again and again. Let’s just say he had to throw his shoes out and he never went to that supermarket out of embarrassment EVER AGAIN.

Illuso

What’s one “silly” fear do they have: talking on the telephone- how am I supposed to know if the guy on the other line doesn’t have me on speaker and is just making fun of me for not knowing what to say?! This guy doesn’t know how to make a doctors appointment without sounding stupid. (Same Lulu same) He’s so bad that he needs a ambulance just for calling for an ambulance! That’s how stressed he gets about using the phone.

How do they cope with this fear: Lulu mentally rehearses what he’s going to say inside his head over and over again until he feels he’s absolutely ready to make that phone call. What about taking phone calls? Surprisingly, he doesn’t have a problem with that—if he gets uncomfortable he just hangs up. 😅 But 90% of the time he just doesn’t answer unless they leave a voicemail.

How did this fear develop: …have you ever tried to make a phone call??? That shit is scary. You don’t need a traumatic experience to fear phone calls! Phone scams, prank calls, weird perverts saying gross shit, organizations asking for donations??? I think I rest my case.

Pesci

What’s one “silly” fear do they have: pool drains- have you seen those things? They have an ominous aura to them and look like if you put your butt on the drain it will suck all of your insides out. 😨 they also make creepy sucking noises… 👀

How do they cope with this fear: He knows how to swim but he tries to stay towards the shallow side of the pool where the pool drain isn’t there. There’s not much to do to cope with this odd fear other than to mentally overcome or just avoid it. But one thing you can assure him though that the drain is not going to suck his insides out. 😅

How did this fear develop: He submitted to his own curiosity and went underwater in the deep end of the pool and sat on the pool drain. His friends said it felt funny and they were correct! When it was time to come back up for air his swimming shorts string got stuck in the drain! He tugged and tugged and got it out in time but that was really scary and could have been really bad.

Prosciutto

What’s one “silly” fear do they have: clowns- thank the lort he didn’t live to see the clown outbreak in 2016…he isn’t afraid persay, he just experiences extreme secondhand embarrassment just by glancing at one. You’re shoving your face into a pie, wearing gaudy makeup, and mismatched clothes while acting like a jackass?

How do they cope with this fear: It’s not hard for him to cope with this. Where are you going to find a clown??? If another clown outbreak happens he’ll just age them all to death. No biggie. That’s what you get for being a clown! Now gtfo you’re an embarrassment to humanity!

How did this fear develop: He remembers seeing a clown at a circus as a kid. Good ol animal abuse, acrobatics, and a weird guy in multicolored mismatched clothes trying waaaay too hard to make Pros laugh. All it did was make him cringe… he had no sense of humor as a kid either. But to be fair-I personally don’t like clowns either.

Melone

What’s one “silly” fear do they have: sloths- they’re slow…so slow. And they have blank expression even though they’re smiling. To Mel, it’s like a smile of a serial killer. No thoughts… only murder. Of course sloths are not like that, don’t be silly! Melone just can’t help but get the creeps from those animals!

How do they cope with this fear: Melone is probably the only one who copes by the book. CBT therapy self help books helped him with his odd mistrust of Sloths. He still gets a tingle down the spine if he makes eye contact with one though. It’s like they’re staring into his soul…

How did this fear develop: Going to the zoo with his mom as a child, he noticed how fucking weird sloths looked. That and how slowly they moved. Also that a couple of them made full eye contact with him and it made him very uncomfortable. The animal just feels unnatural to him. There’s not a really good explanation for his weird fear… he just doesn’t like them!

Ghiaccio

What’s one “silly” fear do they have: Cotton balls- he can’t STAND how they feel, the way they sound. The way the Feel in your mouth at the dentist office stealing all your moisture. HELL NO. Ghia will gladly drool all over the place instead of having those cotton packs anywhere near him. And don’t get him even STARTED on tampons 🤢

How do they cope with this fear: He just doesn’t buy it. It’s not really a fear, but an intolerance—a HATRED of the fiber. He won’t cope—he refuses to cope! You can take that cotton and shove it up your dry asshole!

How did this fear develop: have you ever had an ear infection and had cotton put inside your ear? THE FUCKING NOISE IT MAKES—! Oh and try shoving a dry tampon up your dry hole because you felt the cramps coming on but you wanted to swim laps in the pool with your best friend! It’s fucking awful!

#jjba part 5 #la squadra #la squadra esecuzioni #jjba risotto #jjba formaggio #jjba illuso #jjba pesci #jjba prosciutto #jjba melone #jjba ghiaccio #jojo risotto #jojo formaggio #jojo illuso #jojo pesci #jojo prosciutto #jojo melone #jojo ghiaccio

27 notes · View notes

casualaruanienjoyer · 30 days ago

Text

Just gonna casually drop Chapter 5 of my Cadet Aruani series here. Don't mind me 👀 Actually, what did I get myself into??

Want

Breathless.

Intoxicating. Overwhelming. Rough-

No. None of that.

Soft.

Softer than Annie expected it to be. Softer than anything she has ever touched. So soft, in fact, that it lingers on her lips like the touch of a feather. And then it disappears just as quickly as it came.

Because Annie needs air.

How long has it been since she last took a breath of fresh air? Since she last exhaled so deeply? Has she been holding in this breath her entire life? It might as well be the case, because when she pulls away, she feels relaxed. Oddly calm. The tangled stream of noise in her head is now but a mere thread.

Annie has answers. Well, some answers. Not the answers she desperately needed to discover for her mission. Not the location of the Founder or the royal family, or anything else that was relevant to her mission in any way. But answers she longed for just because she allowed herself to simply exist, even if only for a moment.

Annie Leonhart is just a nobody tonight. Another face in the crowd. A colourless piece in a colourless puzzle, or perhaps she’s finally started seeing colours instead? Armin’s eyes are so blue when they flutter open. His messy golden bangs tickle his eyebrows and his ears are such a deep shade of red that Annie fights a sudden urge to bite them.

Huh? Was that really her thought? She stares at Armin, dumbfounded, not quite knowing what to feel, if anything. Or maybe she’s feeling everything all at once? Maybe that’s what this low rumble in her stomach is?

She kissed him. She kissed… Armin? Her eyes fall on his lips and the mess in Annie’s head returns. Only this time, it’s 100 times louder, and it resonated throughout her entire body like the splash of a wave during a storm. The more she looks at him, the louder the rumble in her stomach becomes. Her thoughts morph into something so wild it’s almost primal.

And then she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror to her side and Annie’s chest suddenly tightens with worry.

She looks like a monster.

"Shit! Armin I-" she finally speaks, realising she’s been pushing him up against the door. "I…" she continues, not really knowing what to say. What can she really say, when she’s cornered him like prey? When the ugly beast within her was unable to stop things from escalating beyond the point of going back. When all her body wants to do is devour him whole.

Being a nobody was supposed to be simple, right?

There’s silence. Armin says nothing, and it’s almost scary. Eerie, even. This is the boy who always had an answer for every situation. The same boy who now leans against the door in such an uncomfortable way it makes Annie worry. Is he angry? Upset? Resentful?

"He might have a crush on you, but make sure you don’t -break- him, alright?"

Scared?

"Say something…" she moves away completely and it’s so cold when their bodies disconnect that Annie wonders if she’s indeed made of stone. Was all that warmth from before…only his to begin with? Has she always felt this cold?

But as she moves away he grabs her arm, stopping Annie in her tracks. A whole minute passes before Armin finally decides to speak. It feels like torture, how gently he holds her even now.

"Annie… did you…?" he mutters as his free hand twists in a tight fist against the door. He looks so incredibly conflicted that Annie cannot read him at all.

"What…?" she asks cautiously.

"Did you mean it?" he replies determinedly, eyes locked with hers. His gaze on her is so intense it makes Annie feel like a deer in headlights. "Did you really want to kiss someone like me?"

Someone like… him? Someone like Armin? What does he-

But then Annie’s mind brings back small memories from the past year she thought had been blocked. Minor discussions, trivial jokes, really. Recollections of her colleagues throwing around small distasteful remarks about Armin. Whispers filled with mockery about anything from his personality to his appearance. Boyish jokes about his preferences and girlish teases about his looks. The kind of gossip Annie hated the most. None of these truly defined Armin in any way.

And then she wonders, who is Armin to her, exactly?

He’s the enemy, a Paradisian, a cadet, a reading partner, a sparring companion, a genius…and also just a boy. A boy that got her flowers. A boy that thought her hands were soft. An idiot, a daydreamer, a tease, someone who liked her. A boy who liked Annie Leonhart, the monster, the beast, the weapon, but also… the nobody.

A boy who just wanted to see her smile.

"Annie, I’m sorry…I didn’t want to upset you."

It couldn’t be, could it? Was he perhaps worried of Annie becoming a target for such mockery herself? Foolish. Ridiculous. Did Armin really think she cared what people thought of her?

She wanted to read together. She wanted to train together. And it’s so hard for Annie to admit this to herself because she shouldn’t have any wants of her own. She shouldn’t be making friends, she shouldn’t let herself waste so much time. She doesn’t have long left to live. But at the same time…Why shouldn’t she do something she wants, at least this once?

"What if I did?" she answers flatly, but the mess in her mind is anything but stern.

Being a nobody isn’t as easy as Annie initially thought. It comes with feelings, with such intense wants that Annie’s never allowed herself to feel before. It’s overwhelming. Staggering, mind-boggling.

So when Armin’s fingers tighten around her forearm, his serious eyes send shivers down her spine.

"Then… you won’t judge me for this-" he whispers, hands cupping her face to pull her back in his arms, lips meeting halfway. And Annie allows herself to just… exist.

To drown into this softness again-

No.

This time it’s different.

This time it’s rough.

Heavy, foggy, it reawakens the beast inside her with such force that she grabs onto his shoulders to steady herself. There’s so much going on and Annie can’t help but sigh into his mouth between heavy, heated kisses.

What if she can’t stop? What if she hurts him? Fear burrows itself in the back of her mind and she wants to pull back, to slow down, she can’t let herself turn into a monster again.

But Armin’s hands slide to her waist, keeping her in place. He whines against her lips, begging for her to stay, to just let herself be.

He’s not afraid of her.

He wants her.

"Didn’t know Arlert was into beasts like you, Leonhart."

Fuck Ymir.

Maybe Armin was into monsters like her. Would it be that bad? Would the world really end if they liked each other?

Fuck Marley.

Fuck Paradis.

Damn it all to hell!

She doesn’t want to be anything tonight. She doesn’t want to fight. She doesn’t want to spy. She doesn't want to play soldier or be a brave warrior. None of that bullshit.

The only thing she wants tonight is Armin Arlert.

#armin arlert #annie leonhart #aruani #aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #aot scenarios #stella writes #aot fanfic #aot fic

23 notes · View notes

manias-wordcount · 9 months ago

Note

Could I please request smut of masochistic fem reader x Lisa (genshin impact), but Lisa is really sadistic and kinda scary?

Of the Flesh (Lisa Minci x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼! 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!! 𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁, 𝘀𝗮𝗱𝗼𝗺𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗰𝗵𝗶𝘀𝗺, 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝘃𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

You like it when she uses her teeth.

You don’t know when it started. But you know it started when you would moan a little louder as she tugged on your bottom lip. And things started to heat up when she would suck nice and hard into your neck- leaving with you little presents to have to cover up later. But things really, really, really took a turn the first time she bit into your thigh.

It was sudden. Something that came out of the heat of the moment. Something akin to a crime of passion. And It was strong enough to draw a little blood. To leave you sore and bruised and a little worried when you woke up the next day. But it was hot enough that it had you cumming in less than minutes immediately afterward. And now…

“What’s the magic word~?”

…you can’t go a day without feeling her teeth sink into you.

“P-please Miss Lisa…” You slur out, drool pooling at your lips. It spills onto the soft, silken sheets below you. It’s messy. It’s gross. It’s embarrassing. And there’s very little you can do about it. Your face presses into the uncomfortably wet fabric, unable to move, as you sit with your ass up and your hands behind your back. You’d get spanked again if you moved your hands from behind your back once more. And as much as you want to move your body- to give yourself some space to breathe that isn’t in your own pathetic mess, you don’t think your brain can handle another round of counting off to ten. “I want it…I want it…”

Right now, at least.

You let out a loud sound of displeasure and you already know that your voice is getting whinier before it even comes out. But it’s something you just can’t control. Just like the shifting of your hips and the sudden gasps that she pulls from you. You know what she’s doing. You know exactly what she’s doing. She’s keeping you face down ass up so you feel powerless. She’s running her tongue up against your skin- alternating between kitten licks and fairy-light kisses to keep you on your toes.

And she’s sticking two fingers inside of your soaking wet pussy. Sticking them in nice and deep Pumping them in and pulling them out. Having them reach to the further corners of your insides. Drawing out lewd and unbearably wet sounds as your arousal spreads across your inner thighs and leaves you impossibly messier than before. Just teasing and touching and toying with you as you’re forced to wriggle and wait for her to give you what you want. What you truly want.

“I don’t know~” She drawls out. You can just hear the smile in her voice. The smug, smug laughter that threatens to spill from her lips if she’s not careful. Oh, but you know. You know she doesn’t want to be careful. You know she doesn’t want to play by the rules. But she will. She will, she will, she will. As long as it means driving you crazy. As long as it means driving you insatiable with lust. As long as it means that you’re spending your every single breath and every single thought begging for her to use you. Punish you. Fuck you like she never gave a shit about you or your life. “You’ve been so good for me lately. And how could I do something so awful to my good girl, hmm?”

“NO-” You’re nearly shouting. Nearly sobbing. Her fingers haven’t sped up. They haven’t slowed either. They’re keeping their same dull pace. Enough to have you feeling something. Not enough to have you achieving anything. And her lips are doing the exact same. Kisses that are too soft. Touches that are too loving. It’s not enough. It’s not enough for you, it’s just not. You need more. You need her to give you more. She has to give you more. She has to. She has to. She has to. “Please, Miss Lisa. I need it. I need it so much PLEASE, I’ve been bad, I promise I promise.”

Your words are blurring together. You’re drooling even more. You’re getting even wetter. Like some common, needy little slut, you’re unraveling. Waiting and unraveling right in front of her. Hoping she takes it as a sign. A message. To just give in to what you want. To listen to your messy rambles. To take care of you in the way you know that only she could. You need it from her. You need it from her. You need it, you need it, you need it.

But you know it’s not easy. It’s never easy. Why would it be easy? Why would she make things easier? To more you cry, the more you whimper, the more you beg, the happier she becomes. She has every reason to deny you. She has every reason to do exactly what she wants and absolutely nothing else.

But sometimes…

“Alright, my dear. If you insist~”

sometimes exactly what she wants…

“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you~”

… is exactly what you want too.

So you relish in those moments. You relish in these moments. In the fact that her two lazy fingers have been replaced by four strong fingers instead. Pumping in and out at a ridiculously fast pace that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your legs shaking almost instantly. Hard and intense and mind-numbly perfect as she stretches your hole in a way that has you getting oh so loud.

But you also relish in the fact that these fingers of hers are accompanied by something else. Dirty talk. Hair pulling. Scratches in all the right places. And finally…finally.

Teeth.

Sinking into you and the meat of your thighs. Holding you in place. Marking you up. Markin you as hers as she makes you squirm. Makes you moan. Makes you cry out one name and one name alone.

Lisa. Lisa. Lisa.

Like it’s a prayer. Like it’s all you’ve ever known. Like it’s all you can ever think about.

Lisa. Lisa.

Like it’s the last thing you’ll ever see. Like she’s the only thing you need. Well…

Lisa.

…her and her teeth.

#lisa x reader #lisa minci #lisa minci x reader #lisa #lisa genshin #lisa genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin fanfiction #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact fanfic #x reader #xreader #fanfic #fanfiction

78 notes · View notes

stargazer-sims · 2 months ago

Text

I wrote a thing and It took me way longer than it should have...

---------------

Full Circle

Yuri is almost asleep when he hears the front door being slammed shut. The sound startles him enough to pull him halfway back from the edge of consciousness, but not enough to compel him to get up. He's far too settled to move unless it's absolutely necessary.

Beside him, Victor is completely asleep and snoring softly. That's another reason Yuri doesn't want to move.

It'd taken a lot of effort to convince Victor the sofa wasn't the best place for him to rest. He's sick with some sort of respiratory virus that's kept him home from work for the past couple of days, and although he has been sleeping in his bed at night, during the day he alternates between the living room couch and the armchair in Yuri's home office.

Victor may be an excellent nurse, but he's an absolutely terrible patient, and at one point it seemed to Yuri as if no amount of coaxing and cajoling would persuade him that he really should be in bed for at least part of the day. Evidently, he'd rather follow Yuri around the house like a sad puppy, or huddle under his blanket on the sofa and whine about how he’d probably die soon from dehydration or from his headache and fever, or from the ache in all his muscles.

"Wouldn't you rather pass away in the comfort of your bed?" Yuri said, trying not to let his exasperation show.

Apparently, Victor found that hilarious, and perhaps not unexpectedly his laughter devolved into a coughing fit so severe that he was gasping for air by the time it resolved and his face was wet with tears.

"Yeah," he whispered, after several seconds. "Maybe I would rather die in bed."

"Okay. Let's just tidy you up a bit first, though. No one likes a messy ending.”

Victor's eyes said he wanted to laugh again, but his body language told a different story. He placed one palm on the center of his chest and massaged slowly as if that might help ease what Yuri assumed was pain and tightness. Yuri felt sorry for him.

"I'm glad you're here to make sure I look nice and neat," Victor said.

"It's not about neatness. I don't want you to be uncomfortable. Now, let's clean your face, all right?"

Victor nodded his acquiescence. He meekly allowed Yuri to pat the tears from his cheeks with a tissue and then to hold several more under his nostrils while encouraging him to blow his nose.

Yuri hadn't really understood the English phrase 'man cold' until he'd experienced one of Victor's for the first time. Back when their relationship was new, he'd panicked because he thought Victor's illness was just as serious as Victor was making it out to be. He'd rung up the emergency clinic and everything, whereupon the female nurse practitioner who took his call had laughed at him and told him to give Victor acetaminophen and herbal tea and plenty of attention.

Solid advice, he acknowledges now. Naturally, hindsight is the clearest form of vision. A little more than twenty years after that first scary situation, he's a veteran of his husband's man colds and knows exactly how to care for him on the occasions when he's under the weather.

After disposing of the tissues, he helped Victor up the stairs as best as he could, tucked him into bed, checked his temperature, and then crawled under the covers with him. Victor would've inevitably wanted cuddles, and Yuri had essentially given up on accomplishing any more work in any case, so he decided he'd save Victor the effort of having to ask him to lie down with him.

Victor made a contented little noise when Yuri snuggled against his side and wrapped an arm around him.

"Comfortable?" Yuri asked.

"No, but I like it when you're close to me," Victor replied. He reached around to run his fingers through Yuri's hair, and added, "I'm not actually dying, just so you know. I only feel like I'm going to."

"I know," Yuri said. "I'm sorry I said that."

"It was funny. No need to apologize. I might feel like I'm ready for the morgue, but my sense of humour is still alive and well."

"That's good." He shifted position slightly so he could rest his head on Victor's shoulder. "Are we going to take a nap?"

"Hmm..." was Victor's wordless response.

Yuri can't help remembering how stressed Victor used to get when he had a cold or flu. He'd desperately want to be taken care of, but he didn't want to let Yuri do it, fearing that if Yuri got too close to him he would catch whatever Victor had. Eventually, they both figured out that it didn't matter because nine times out of ten Yuri would catch it regardless. After that, Victor learned to relax and to permit Yuri to fuss over him as much as he clearly wanted.

Yuri had once remarked to his mother-in-law how he thought time had changed both him and Victor. Grace's eloquent response was, "No, time doesn't change anyone. It gives people the opportunity to change themselves."

And how we've changed ourselves, he reflects as he lies next to his sleeping husband. Our attitudes have changed. Our priorities are different than they used to be. We're stronger than before.

This thought makes him happy. He used to fear change, but over the years he's come to understand that change can be good. He and Victor learned that together.

Well, not all our priorities have changed, he amends. I still love this one to the ends of the Earth and back and I still want to spend the rest of my life with him.

Yuri's mind is drawn back to the present by more slamming noises from downstairs. It's cabinet doors this time. And...the refrigerator? The fridge door being closed so hard that he's able to hear it from Victor's room cannot be good.

Victor stirs and mumbles something that sounds like, "What's going on?"

"I'd say Caroline's home from school," Yuri replies.

"Why's she so noisy?" At least that's what Yuri imagines his husband asks. Victor is obviously awake enough to hear, but not awake enough to produce coherent speech.

"I don't know, but I think I'd better go and check."

"No, I'll go," Victor says.

Victor moves like he's attempting to get up, but Yuri holds him in place with one hand. "No, you will not. If she really needs you, I'll send her up to talk to you. Otherwise, I'll look after her."

"But—"

"No 'buts'." Yuri leans over and kisses him on the forehead. "You don't need to handle everything yourself, love. You know that. Just rest, and let me take care of this."

The fact that Victor doesn't protest any further is an eloquent testimony of how bad he's feeling. "Okay," is all he says.

"I'll be back," Yuri promises.

"Okay," Victor murmurs again.

Yuri climbs off the bed and makes his way downstairs. He's still getting used to the layout of their new home. At the old house, the kitchen was in a direct line of sight from the stairs, but here the stairs are tucked away behind a wall and he has to round the corner to observe what's going on in the kitchen, dining room or foyer. He likes it better this way, though. The new house is almost as big as the old one, but somehow it feels more compact and cozy.

As he steps past the bookcases in the corner of the living room, he's able to spot Caroline sitting at the kitchen island. Her back is to him, but he can see that she's eating something from a bowl. Her hot pink backpack is on the floor next to the stool she's seated on, and its contents are peeking out of the half-opened main compartment. He notices her swimsuit and swimming cap in a clear plastic bag. The suit looks dry.

"Caroline," he says.

She doesn't turn to acknowledge him, but she says, "Hi."

He makes his way over to join her at the island. She's eating mint chocolate chip ice cream, which is her and Victor's collective favourite ice cream flavour.

She was slamming the freezer door, then.

"How was school?" he inquires.

"You know, it was school."

"And what about swim practice? You're home early. Was it cancelled today?"

'No," she says. "I didn't go. I didn't feel like it." She scoops an excessive spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and adds around the mouthful, "Don't worry. Jack and Matilda know. I said I wasn't feeling good."

"Aren't you? Feeling well, I mean. Maybe you're coming down with what Victor has."

"No, I’m not sick. I'm fine," she asserts. “Physically, anyway."

“So, what's the matter?"

"Nothing."

He smiles in spite of the circumstances. The blatant contradiction is such a typically teenage thing. "Are you certain?"

She stabs at her ice cream aggressively with the tip of her spoon. "Where's Victor?"

"He's in his room, resting. He's still not feeling well."

"Oh."

"Did you want to talk to him?"

"Yeah, but I guess it can wait," she says.

Yuri perches on the stool next to hers. "You can talk to me if you like."

He doesn't expect her to take him up on it. It's not that she never comes to him when she needs something, but he's much better at solving practical problems like how to write a good essay, who to call to get her bicycle fixed, and how to budget her money. She rarely asks him for help with more abstract personal issues, maybe because she thinks he's not good at that sort of thing, or perhaps it's because she's closer with Victor than she is with him.

Victor has always been Caroline's favourite parent. She'd bonded with him almost immediately upon meeting him, while she was still his patient, before he and Yuri even discussed the possibility of fostering her. It had taken much longer for her and Yuri to warm up to each other.

Yuri can admit he'd resented Victor's natural, easy relationship with Caroline in the beginning. He'd consoled himself by repeating over and over in his mind that it didn't matter because she was only a foster child and they wouldn't have her forever, but when Victor started bringing up the subject of adoption... To say he'd felt genuine panic would've been an understatement.

He'd been reluctant to tell Victor how he felt, but he knew he had to. Adopting a child was far too big a step for him to simply go along with it because it was something that would make Victor happy. That might've caused more discomfort and resentment in the end. It might've torn a rift between them that would've been impossible to repair, and that was the last thing Yuri wanted.

He shouldn't have been surprised at Victor's response. Rather than being upset or disappointed, Victor listened patiently while he poured out his fears and misgivings.

"I feel like an awful person," he'd confessed. He's never been one to put his emotions on display, but he'd been overwhelmed in that moment and couldn't prevent a few tears from escaping. It wasn't just his inability to embrace Caroline's presence in their lives the way Victor had that was troubling him, but also all the negative sentiments he'd been experiencing; insecurity, inadequacy, resentment, and perhaps even a little jealousy. On top of that, he was struggling under a weight of guilt and shame for having all those other feelings in the first place.

"You shouldn't," Victor told him. He'd pulled Yuri gently into his arms and let him lean against his chest. "You're not a terrible person."

"But... shouldn't I get along with her like you do?"

"Not necessarily. We all build relationships in different ways, don't we? Do you have the same relationship with both your parents?"

"No."

"No, and I don't have the same relationship with Mom that I have with Julian either, and that's okay. I love them both, and I know they love me, and that's what's important."

"That's the problem," he said. "It's obvious Caroline loves you. Shouldn't she love me too? Shouldn't she want me to help her with things and play with her and comfort her? How can I think about adopting a child who doesn't want..." He'd let the sentence fade away, unfinished. He could hardly bear to complete the thought, much less lend words to it.

"Yuri." Victor's voice was soft. He didn't speak again for several seconds, choosing instead to rub Yuri's back with the long, firm strokes Yuri had always liked. After a while, he said, "Tell me something. Do you love Caroline?"

"Yes," Yuri said. He couldn't deny that. Despite his failure to form the kind of connection with her that Victor had, he still cared deeply for her. The difficulty was, he wasn't sure she cared for him, and he was equally uncertain his love for her would be enough to make a permanent arrangement work.

As if reading his thoughts, Victor told him, "That's enough for now. Showing her you love her is the right first step. It's gonna take time for her to trust you, but you'll get there."

"She trusted you straight away. How much time will it take for me?"

"I don't know exactly," Victor said. "It could be weeks or months. You gotta keep in mind that she's been through a lot, and maybe you remind her of things she's trying to not remember right now."

"Such as?"

"Her old life. Speaking Japanese, eating with chopsticks, following all those social etiquette rules... stuff like that. Plus, you kind of look like her dad. I mean, you've seen his passport photo. I know I would've struggled if somebody who looked like my dad suddenly came into my life after he died."

"Oh." This had never occurred to Yuri before, mostly because he'd been looking at everything from his own point of view rather than trying to see things through Caroline's eyes. "Then... maybe adopting her truly isn't a good idea. I... I don't want to make it worse for her."

"You won't," Victor said. "Believe it or not, she needs something you can give her that I can't. Lots of things, actually, but she's going to learn resilience from you. She's gonna learn courage and perseverance and patience, and you know... how to pick herself up and keep going."

"Because she has a disability?"

"Yeah. I can't teach her how to live with a disability, but you can. But, it's more than just that. It's for everything in life, 'cause she's gonna fail sometimes and she might have to go through more bad experiences, and she's going to need to know how to take care of herself and not give up when stuff like that happens. You're amazing at that."

"So are you."

"Only because I've got you to support me," Victor said. "And because I figured out how to follow your example."

"But, how can I teach Caroline anything if I can't even get close to her?" he asked, hoping his desperation didn't show too much.

"Don't underestimate her," said Victor. "It's not like a violin lesson where you have to actively teach her. Just be there for her, and give her time. Let her see who you really are, and try to see her for who she really is."

"How am I meant to do that?"

"How do you do it with anybody?" Victor countered. "Like, you coexist with her, live your life alongside her, and... I don't know. Maybe ask her if there's something she'd like the two of you to do together. If you can work out what you have in common, that might help you communicate better, and I think that'd help you get closer."

Victor had been right, of course. About everything. It'd all gone much better once Yuri stopped worrying about how Caroline felt about him and turned his attention toward finding more common ground with her.

It started with gardening. One day, he asked her if she'd like to help him in the garden, and she said she would. After that, they spent a lot of time tending both the outdoor and indoor plants together. They rarely conversed at first, but they enjoyed being together nevertheless. Slowly but surely, Yuri began to feel less like an extra and more like a main character in the story of his family's life again.

Then, a day came when Caroline noticed him clipping his bonsai tree and asked him about it. Without thinking, he answered her in Japanese, something he'd been careful to avoid doing for the several preceding weeks.

To his utter shock, Caroline began to cry. Alarmed, he put down his shears and dropped to one knee so that he was at eye level with the six year old. When he asked her what was wrong, she told him tearfully that she missed speaking Japanese.

"I thought you didn't want to," he said.

"I didn't," she agreed. "You know, 'cause it made me sad. But then I got scared that I might forget, but I was also kinda scared to tell you that I changed my mind."

"It's okay," he said. "You can tell me anything you want. You don't have to be scared. I'll always listen to you, and I won't be upset if you change your mind about something."

"Really?"

"Really," he assured her. "People don't always feel the same way about everything all the time. It's totally normal to change your mind about things, especially if you know something new that you didn't know before."

"Like... how I didn't want to eat hot dogs, but now I do 'cause I know they don't really have dogs in them?"

Yuri smiled. "Yeah, exactly like that."

"Yuri?"

"Yes?"

"Can I have my own bonsai tree? I want you to teach me how to make it pretty like yours. Then I'll know something else I didn't know before, and maybe I'll want to change my mind about... other stuff."

She did not elaborate on what 'other stuff' meant, but Yuri was sure he could guess. "Of course you can have your own tree. We can ask ojii-chan to send you one from Japan. Would you like that?"

Could he have gotten her a tree from a local plant nursery? Obviously he could have, but it somehow seemed more appropriate to ask his parents to send one.

That was exactly the right choice, as things turned out. Caroline got very excited when Yuri told her his father had sent them a tracking number for the package, and for the next few days it became their little ritual to check the location of Caroline's tree on its journey from Japan to Canada. When the courier arrived, Caroline wanted to sign for the box herself, and the man graciously let her do it. Yuri scrawled his initials next to Caroline's wobbly signature, and thanked the courier for such good service.

The little tree was perfect. It survived its long voyage with no damage, and only needed water and sunlight for it to get back to looking its best. Caroline cherished it, caring for it and talking to it as if it were a pet, and she eventually learned how to trim it herself. She still tends it with as much care and dedication as she did back then, and she still loves to show it off to visitors. Under her hands, the tiny juniper tree is thriving.

It's a lot like Caroline herself, he thinks.

He'd had to learn how to nurture her, how to guide her and teach her to grow. He didn't always get it right, and as flawless a parent as Victor appeared to be, he made mistakes sometimes too. Overall, though, Yuri is proud of their progress, and he's exceptionally proud of the daughter he and Victor have raised together.

Caroline's voice inserts itself into his musings. "If I talk to you, are you going to pay attention?"

Yuri blinks. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was lost in thought."

"Long day, I guess."

"Victor's a handful when he's ill."

The smallest hint of a smile lifts the corners of Caroline's mouth. "Is he dying this time?"

"Yes, quite dramatically if you must know," Yuri says. "In a scene taken straight from a soap opera, I'd say."

This elicits a laugh. "That's how you know it's not as bad as he wants you to believe it is. If he was really sick or in a lot of pain, he wouldn't be all dramatic and stuff. Remember when he had to get those two teeth out?"

Yuri does remember. There hadn't been any theatrics that day; just Victor with his bruised and swollen jaw, crying quietly in the passenger's seat of Yuri's car on the way home from the hospital. He'd gone straight to bed with no fuss as soon as they got home, and later that evening he'd let Caroline feed him puréed fruit mixed with protein powder, with a look in his eyes of such profound gratitude that it made Yuri's heart ache to see it.

Yuri nods. "You're right. That was different."

"He'll be okay," Caroline says.

"I know, but how about you? Are you going to be all right?"

Caroline sighs. "Yeah, probably. I'm mad, but I'll get over it. It's dumb teenager stuff anyway."

"It can't be all that trivial, if you wanted to talk to Victor about it and it made you want to skip swim practice and break all the cabinet doors," Yuri says.

"Sorry about that."

"It's fine. You're not in trouble," he says. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

She eats a spoonful of ice cream, and then sits there with the spoon still in her mouth, clearly weighing up her options. Finally, she puts the spoon down and then turns slightly on her stool so she can look at him directly. "I think I'm going to break up with Forest."

This pronouncement takes him by surprise. "Why?"

"We had a fight," she says. "Not some silly disagreement over some random thing, but like, a really serious argument."

"About what?"

"You know this week at school is Futures Week, right?"

'Yes," Yuri says. "I remembered that was happening this week."

"We're in our last year of high school, and we've gotta start planning what we're going to do after," Caroline says. "They've got people from different universities and colleges coming in to give presentations, and even some guy from the military was there. Plus, we can schedule meetings with the school's guidance counsellors, and today was career day, where they had all these different professionals come in and set up tables in the gym so that we could meet them and talk about what it's like to have different kinds of jobs."

"I know about that too. James went there to represent our firm."

"I know. I talked to him. Felicity Greene's dad too, and Uncle Leo, although I don't really want to be a lawyer or a preschool teacher. Felicity said it was weird that her dad was there, and like, no surprise that Nora didn't even go 'cause she was too embarrassed about her dad being there. Honestly, I wouldn't have been embarrassed. I would've liked it if you and Victor came."

"We were otherwise occupied," he says. "But, you were telling me about you and Forest, weren't you?"

"Stupid Forest," she grumbles.

"What happened?"

"Forest didn't go either," she declares.

"Do you mean, he didn't go to school today?"

"No, he was at school, but he didn't sign up for any of the university presentations this week, and he totally refused to come to the career thing. He hid in the library the whole time."

"That doesn't sound good."

"You know my friend Mohammad? He saw Forest in there and he told me, so I went to get him, and that's how the argument started." She looks away from him momentarily as her pale skin turns deep pink. "We... we got kicked out of the library."

"Did you get detention?"

She shakes her head. "No. We went outside so we could keep talking, but that's when it really got bad. Forest told me he's not going to university."

Yuri frowns. "I thought he was planning to go to art school."

"I thought so too," Caroline says, "But now he's not. He says he doesn't want to waste his time and his parents' money on something that probably isn't going to help him get a job anyway. He says he's just going to keep working at the pizza place after graduation until... until whenever we get married. Can you believe he actually said that? I never said I wanted to marry him!"

"Didn't you?" Yuri queries. "The way I recall it, you and Forest have both been saying since you were seven years old that you want to marry each other some day."

"Yeah, well... I changed my mind," she says adamantly. "Maybe I said I wanted to marry him before I realized he has like, absolutely zero ambition. How can he be happy making pizza for minimum wage? How does a person not care about their own future?"

"There are loads of reasons why somebody might not care about their future," Yuri says.

"I'm sure none of them are very good reasons," Caroline scoffs. "Anyway, I can't be with somebody who doesn't even have goals."

Yuri is silent for a handful of seconds as he composes his thoughts. At last, he asks quietly, "Have you ever considered that you're his goal?"

Caroline peers at him, a look of perplexity on her face. "What do you mean? How can a person be another person's goal?"

"You and Forest remind me a lot of Victor and me," he says. "For the longest time, I didn't have any goals or ambitions for the future either. The only thing I wanted in life was to be with Victor. I wanted him to stay close to me and love me and give me as much attention as possible, and I wanted him to be happy. I thought that if he was happy, that would make me happy."

"Yeah, that kind of sounds like Forest," she affirms.

"And you're like Victor. You've got plans and dreams. You want to have adventures and accomplish loads of things in your life."

"Exactly."

"Another way you're like him is that your happiness doesn't depend on other people."

Caroline nods. "I learned that from Victor, actually. I remember when I was little and I'd be upset, he always told me that it was okay to feel angry or sad or scared, but that I shouldn't let myself stay like that. Like, he said if I wanted to feel better I could get there, 'cause my happiness is my own responsibility."

"He's right," Yuri says. "I know because he taught me that, too."

"Really?"

"Really. I used to be scared about quite a lot of things, and that was one of the biggest reasons why I didn't have any goals for myself. I was too afraid I'd fail at anything I tried, so I barely tried to do anything new. Then, I was depressed and frustrated, thinking about how I'd never accomplish anything."

"So, what did you do?"

"I ate a strawberry."

Caroline laughs out loud. "You always say strawberries make everything better. But seriously, what did you do? How'd you fix yourself? 'Cause you've never seemed like the type of person who's afraid of much of anything to me."

"I really ate a strawberry." Yuri repeats. He recalls the monumental effort it'd taken to pick up his chopsticks and feed himself that one small piece of fruit. "It was one of the hardest things I've ever done."

Caroline is staring at him as if he's setting up for some sort of joke. "But, you love strawberries."

"I do," he concedes. "But that doesn't mean it's always been easy for me to eat them. The winter before we moved here from Japan, I was so ill that I didn't know if I'd survive it. I couldn't eat, and I was so weak and in so much pain that I couldn't even sit up in bed on my own. My doctor decided that if she was going to keep me alive, I'd need to have a feeding tube, so that's what we did."

"Is that what the little scar on your belly is from?"

"It is," he confirms. "One might think it'd be scary to get all your nourishment through a tube in your stomach, but it was such a relief to me. It meant I didn't have to physically eat anything, and I knew the formula would be safe and wouldn't cause me any pain. That eliminated the anxiety of eating."

"Eating gave you anxiety? Like... just eating?"

"Yes, and it still does sometimes, as hard as that might be to grasp."

"It kind of is, honestly. I love eating."

"I know you do. That's another way you're more like Victor than like me." He smiles. "I'm glad you love to eat. I wouldn't wish my problems on anybody."

"So, what happened?" she prompts. "Obviously you started eating real food again."

"I had to go through a lot of therapy," he says. "The goal was to remove the tube within a year, and as much as I was relieved that I didn't have to put food in my mouth for a while, I also knew I didn't want to live with the tube long-term. So, my doctor and therapist got me to start by setting small goals, and the first one was that if I wanted to eat anything by mouth, I had to feed myself."

"You weren't feeding yourself?"

"No."

"Why?" Caroline asks.

"It was too difficult," he replies. "At least that's what I'd convinced myself of, but the truth was, I'd essentially given up on everything. I couldn't imagine a future with anything other than more pain and fear and failure, and it was... too much."

"But eating a strawberry changed your mind?"

"It wasn't actually as simple as that, but eating a strawberry showed me what was possible," he says. "Victor was having a fruit salad. The strawberries were fresh and they smelled delicious, and I really wanted one, but Victor wasn't allowed to feed it to me. It took all the willpower I had in me to put that strawberry into my mouth, and I almost changed my mind at the last second, but to this day I'm glad I didn't. Now I like to think that one strawberry was the beginning of the rest of my life."

"How?"

"Because it made me realize even the smallest victories matter," he says. "Because I started to understand that success can be measured in tiny increments and doesn't have to be something huge or spectacular. But, mostly because I finally saw that I could do things for myself, that I could set goals and work for them."

"So... you're saying Forest should eat a strawberry?"

"Metaphorically speaking, yes."

"How can I get him to do it?" Caroline wants to know.

Yuri reaches across the space between them and touches her hand lightly. "That's the thing, little one. You can't."

"But—"

"Forest has to be ready to learn that lesson on his own," Yuri says. "I'm sure Victor was frustrated with me sometimes, and maybe he even secretly questioned why he'd agreed to marry someone with so little self-worth, but he never pushed me. That wouldn't have worked."

"What did he do?"

"He stuck with me even when I thought he'd be better off leaving. He was patient with me, and he loved me when I didn't know how to love myself."

Caroline picks up her spoon again and begins to fidget with it. "Are you saying I shouldn't break up with Forest?"

"No," Yuri says. "Only you and Forest can decide whether or not that's the right choice. What I'm saying is to give yourselves some time to calm down after what happened today, and then ask him if the two of you can talk. Arguing is normal, but you need to deal with the thing that caused the argument to begin with."

"Even if we're not going to be girlfriend and boyfriend?"

"Even so, especially if you still want to be friends with him."

"I do," Caroline says emphatically. "I love Forest. He’s my best friend. Even if we end up marrying other people some day, I always want us to be friends."

"If that's truly how you feel, then don't give up on him," Yuri says. "You can still help him even if you're not in a relationship."

"But... you just said I can't make him eat the metaphorical strawberry."

"You can't make him do it, but that doesn't mean you can't show him the way. You can talk to him and try to find out what's holding him back, and you can support and encourage him when he wants to try new things."

"Like getting his driver's license?"

"Exactly. If you're proud of him for doing that, then tell him."

"I am," she says. "That was a big deal 'cause he was so scared he wouldn't pass the road test, but he did it."

"Then make a big deal of it," Yuri says. "That might seem silly, but unless I miss my guess, it won't seem silly at all to Forest."

"Do you think it'll work?"

"Only time will tell," he says. "The surest way to find out is to try."

"Okay," Caroline says. She slips off her stool and steps forward to hug him. "Thanks for the talk, Papa."

He reciprocates the embrace, pleased as always to hear her call him 'Papa' and to get a hug from her. She's physically demonstrative like Victor, and although her spontaneous displays of affection sometimes made him uncomfortable in the early days, he's grown to appreciate them very much.

"You're welcome," he says.

"Is it okay if I go upstairs and say hi to Victor now?"

"I'm sure he'd like that, but don't disturb him if he's sleeping."

"I know," Caroline says. "If he's sleeping, I'll just stay in there and start my homework. You know, so he won't be alone when he wakes up."

"Good idea," Yuri says. "I was going to go back up there with him and I thought perhaps we'd order something for dinner, but now that you're here, you can keep him company and I can cook instead."

"What are you going to make?"

"How do you feel about carrot and ginger soup? That's fairly easy. And I can make grilled cheese sandwiches for you and Victor."

"We like those," Caroline says. "Ice cream for dessert?"

Yuri smiles. "Haven't you already had enough ice cream?"

"Is there such a thing as too much ice cream?" She gathers her backpack from the floor and slings the strap over her shoulder before turning to leave. “You can text me when it's ready. That way, you won't have to yell."

Yuri waves in the direction of the stairs. "Go. I'll just bring your sandwiches to you, and then you can come down here for soup afterwards."

"Cool. Thanks!"

Yuri watches her as she disappears around the edge of the bookcases. He can hear her bounding up the steps with all the energy her mere seventeen years afford her and wonders if, like Victor, she'll retain most of that energy into middle age. Caroline and Victor may not be biologically related, but they're so much alike that they might as well be.

Both of us may be her parents, but she's truly his child.

Shaking his head, Yuri returns to the kitchen. He picks up Caroline's abandoned bowl and spoon, rinses them, and puts them in the dishwasher. Typically he would've asked her to do that herself, but today is an atypical day.

He puts on some classical music and then focuses on the business of making dinner. Carrot soup is one of his favourite dishes. Victor used to make it for him often when he was relearning how to eat, and once he'd graduated to doing meal preparation, he began making it on his own. Usually, they have it with garlic bread and a garden salad topped with diced chicken, but Victor hasn't had much of an appetite today and Yuri guesses he'd prefer to have his favourite comfort food, grilled cheese. Besides, grilled cheese sandwiches are a lot less effort.

He prepares the soup first. While it's simmering in the slow cooker and filling the kitchen with the warm aroma of ginger, he gets to work on the grilled cheese. He decides he'll have peanut butter toast to go with his soup, since he doesn't like cheese, but he can get that ready after he finishes with the sandwiches for Victor and Caroline.

Soon enough, he's making his way up the stairs with a tray laden with two golden grilled sandwiches and two mugs of steaming green tea with honey. He passes Caroline's room and is nearly at the half-opened door of Victor's when he catches the thread of a conversation.

"...and I don't think he realizes it, but he's a totally amazing parent."

Victor's voice is hoarse, but he sounds much more awake and alert than he did earlier. "I think so too."

Yuri pauses outside the door and tries to peek into the room without being noticed. Victor is lying diagonally across his bed, and Caroline is sitting cross-legged beside him, holding his hand. Caroline is facing away from the door, and he thinks she's likely blocking Victor's view of the hallway.

"I was so mad, but Yuri knew exactly what to say," Caroline continues. "Like, he understood the problem right away and he told me what I should do, and it actually made a lot of sense."

"You shouldn't be shocked," says Victor. "You know, he's very smart and his advice is just as valid as mine. Maybe more so, depending on the subject. There's stuff he can do a lot better than I can."

"Well, he's really good at explaining stuff, and he knows how to get me to see things from a different perspective." Caroline says. "He helped me a lot with what happened today."

Yuri can hear Victor's smile in his voice. "You should tell him that. Sometimes he still worries about whether or not he's doing a good job."

There's no hesitation in Caroline's reply. "He's always done a good job. You're my favourite, but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate him or that he's not good at being a dad. He's awesome and I love him just as much as I love you."

"I'm glad," Victor says. "You know, it'd make his day to hear that."

"I'll tell him," Caroline says.

For a moment Yuri stays in place, trying to take in what he's just overheard. Then, not wanting to give away the fact that he was eavesdropping, he backs carefully down the hall and approaches the door again, deliberately making a bit of noise this time.

He halts in the doorway of Victor's room with a cheerful, "Dinner is served!"

It sounds a bit too upbeat to his ears, but Caroline doesn't seem to notice. Victor does, though. He catches Yuri's eye, smiles and mouths, "Nice one." Yuri wonders whether Victor was able to see him in the hallway after all.

Caroline bounces off the bed and comes over to inspect the tray. "This smells so good!"

"The soup is ready too, if you want some of that."

"Yes, please," Caroline says as she lifts one of the plates. "I'm going to take this to the kitchen and have some soup too, and then I'm going to FaceTime with Felicity because I promised her I'd help her with our math homework."

"Isn't Felicity's mother a financial analyst or something?" Victor asks.

"Yeah, but Felicity says she doesn't know how to make math simple," Caroline explains. "She'd rather get help from somebody who can tell her how to do it step by step, so... Captain Math to the rescue."

"All right, Captain Math," Yuri says. "Enjoy your dinner and your study session."

As Caroline exits the room, Yuri sets the tray with the remaining sandwich and the two cups of tea on the bedside table. Victor sits up, and remarks, "That does look good. I wish I could smell it."

"Hopefully you'll be able to taste it," Yuri says.

"We're about to find out." He picks up half the sandwich and bites into it. With his mouth full, he continues, "So, I guess you heard Caroline singing your praises?"

Yuri looks away. His face is suddenly hot, and he says, "Sorry. I wasn't intentionally spying on the two of you."

"I know," Victor says. He pats the space next to him. "Come here and let me tell you why Caroline is right."

Yuri obligingly climbs onto the bed and then reaches across Victor to get one of the mugs of tea before finally settling against Victor's side. "You think she's right?"

Victor slides an arm around his shoulders. "Why wouldn't I? You are totally amazing as a partner and a parent, and Caroline is right about you having a talent for getting people to see things in new ways. I knew that about you before we ever had Caroline, but how you're able to break stuff down in a way that she understands? That's a real skill, and you know what else?"

"What else?"

"You passed it on to her."

"At least I passed something along to her."

"What are you talking about? You've given her a lot. Whether or not you realize it, she's like you in a lot of ways. She's strong and determined like you, and she's practical and logical and great at reading people. Plus, she has your sense of humour."

"That... that's not exactly something to be proud of."

"Sure it is," Victor says. "You can make me laugh, and sometimes that's worth more than all the wealth in the universe."

"Did I really give all that to Caroline?" Yuri asks.

"Yeah, you did. That, and a lot more. You can ask her if you want to. I'm pretty sure she wants to tell you."

"I'm not sure I'd be comfortable asking."

"That's okay," Victor says. "I think she'll tell you on her own, when she finds the right moment."

Yuri closes his eyes and leans into the warmth of his husband's one-armed embrace. "I never thought we'd reach this point," he says. "Caroline and me, I mean."

"I knew you would," Victor says.

"That's because you're an eternal optimist."

Victor kisses the top of his head. "It's easy to be optimistic when I have such a great family. You and Caroline make me happy and you help me keep my faith in humanity. How could I think the future's gonna be anything but good with the two of you around?"

Yuri contemplates this for a moment, and feels his features gradually relax into a smile. They may have had a rough beginning, but everything is better now, and he has to acknowledge Victor is right. Their lives may not be perfect and they may have difficult times ahead, but that doesn't mean the future won't be good. His family loves him and he loves them. No matter what happens, with the three of them all supporting each other, they can make the best of it.

#sapphire writes #not a YOI fanfic #not fanfic at all actually #yuri okamoto #victor nelson #caroline okamoto nelson #writing #long form fiction #stargazersims

20 notes · View notes

thevelria · 1 year ago

Text

It's going to be messy (NSFW/mafia!Gojo x fem!reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings: full of violence, blood, torture angst and death.

Wordcount:2332

Author's note: Thanks to my lovely @ladycheesington for the help <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was supposed to be a simple day. Just a day filled with shopping and having some time alone. You decided to take a break and free your mind from everything. Nowadays things have gotten a bit rough. Gojo seemed tense and anxious, which worried you a lot, but it didn’t matter how many times you tried to make him talk, he turned you down in an instant.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you furrowed your brows. He looked way too off that morning.

“Nothing, really.” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’m gonna take a day off.” you changed the subject, getting tired of the obvious lies.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll need some time alone, far from all of this…” you clicked your tongue, finishing your breakfast and getting up from the kitchen table. “I’m not stupid, ‘Toru. I know something’s happening. So I need some distraction.” you shrugged. “I might go shopping.”

“Just be careful, okay?” he stood up and walked to you, gently caging you at the counter. “It’s dangerous outside. I should send someone with you..” he bit his inner cheek.

“No way!” you snapped “I want to be alone. Don’t worry, nothing’s going to happen.”

You pecked a quick kiss on his rosie lips before freeing yourself from his embrace.

The weather wasn’t pleasing that day, slightly raining, even foggy. Autumn arrived with all its benefits and disadvantages. But you didn’t mind it at all. Walking down the street in the middle of the city, wondering where you should start your shopping session. One of your favorite authors had just published their newest book, so you decided to visit a nearby bookstore.

You wandered around feeling pretty relaxed, placing a bunch of books into your cart before checking out and already daydreaming about getting home later, reading in your special spot at the house.

Gojo had surprised you with a cozy room in the mansion last year, because he knew how much reading meant to you and as always he wanted to make you happy. It looked more like a library with all of your books and manga. A huge window with a wide ledge was your favorite spot to slip into the world of stories. The other corner had a comfy rocking chair with a cute coffee table next to it. Everything was designed and furnished in your own unique style. It was definitely your safe place.

As you zoned out, you smiled at the sweet thoughts and did not notice the huge black van pulling over next to you.The loud slam of the opening side door snapped you back to reality.

“Grab her!” you heard someone yelling, noticing three men in full gear, with masks on their head.

“What the fuck…” were the only words you were able to press out, before you felt an uncomfortable pain in your neck. The world turned into darkness instantly.

***

A bucket of ice cold water woke you up. The sudden uncomfortable feeling crawled under your skin, causing you to shoot your eyes wide open, slightly choking on the water that got into your nose.

“Good morning, princess.” a scary looking guy grinned at you. “Now that you are finally awake, we can talk about business, yeah? We will need some info about your lovely man.”

“You are so going to be fucked up!” you hissed, wanting to raise your hands, when you realized you were tied up in a chair. Thick, wide leather straps held you still, both on your wrists and ankles.

“Be a good girl. I really don’t want to ruin your pretty face.” he clicked his tongue.

The first two slaps felt like sharp blades on your skin, you were sure he ripped your lip up. But you were stubborn, focusing on not letting out a single noise. Oh, no, you were not going to give him the pleasure to see you suffer. You gulped hard as you took a deep breath, clenching your jaw, while looking directly into the man’s eyes.

“He’s going to kill you for this.” you spat some blood on the floor.

After receiving some more, even harder hits your head became dizzy and your vision got blurry.

“Start talking, bitch!” The man got more and more impatient and was becoming annoyed by your attitude.

“Jeff!” another man walked into the room, sounding frustrated “What can possibly take so long?”

“She’s not talking, Dave.” Jeff rolled his eyes.

“Well, then it seems it’s time for me to force those words out..” he growled, while standing next to a metal trolley cart, picking up some kind of pliers. Fear flashed in your eyes, because you knew…you knew it was going to be messy.

***

“C’mon baby, pick up the phone.” Gojo hummed, while walking back and forth in his office. He had been trying to reach you all day long without any success. After you not answering his call for the 3rd time he knew something was off.

“Kento.” Gojo rushed into the living room. “I need your help, I think something happened to Y/N.” His voice was filled with fear and desperation.

“What? Why?” he jumped off the couch in an instant.

“I cannot reach her. I tried to call her millions of times, but she didn't pick up. She would never do that!”

“Fuck.” Nanami hissed “Do you think they took her?”

“If anything happens to her…” Gojo clenched his jaw.

“I’m going to gather the boys. We will find her, okay? She’s going to be alright, man. Don’t worry, your woman is a tough one!” Kento tried to keep Satoru from going insane.

***

“Do you think you are smart, huh? Do you think we can’t break you?” Dave gritted his teeth right in front of your face. Touching your cheek with a sharp knife, leaving behind thin lines of cuts. You felt your warm blood running down your jaw, dripping slowly on your chest. “If you expect me to stop at this point… I won’t.” he let out a manic chuckle, stabbing the blade deep into your shoulder right above your collarbone.

The urge to scream was almost impossible to reject. Tears rolled down your cheek as your whole body started to wobble.

“I can’t wait to see them gut you like a fucking fish.” your words bursted out like poison.

“Them?” he looked confused.

“Why? Do you really think Satoru would come alone?” you let out a pitying laugh “We are a family, moron… And you took someone you shouldn’t even think of touching.”

Dave felt humiliated and nervous at the same time, but he didn’t want to admit it. So he simply knocked you out with one hard punch.

***

One of Gojo’s informers confirmed your location in a warehouse at the edge of the city. An abandoned area, mostly used by gangsters for business.

“We need to surprise them.” Gojo’s eyes flashed in fury. “We won’t have much time. If we fuck up they will kill her and I cannot let it happen. None of you can let it happen. Understand? Protect her at any cost!”

“Understood!” all the boys answered.

“Everyone’s ready?” Gojo took a frustrated breath.

“Yeah.” Nanami nodded slightly as he got into the car. “Yuuta will come with us. Megumi and Yuji are taking the other car as you asked.”

“Good. Good.” he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

Gojo had a theory of you being kidnapped by the Kenzo’s clan. He was almost sure, as he’s just turned down some dirty business with them. They wanted to spread drugs at Gojo’s territory , but he said no without hesitation. Words followed words and in the end they swore to God he was going to regret his decision. The head of the family promised he would be ruined in every possible way. Satoru didn’t take it too seriously. Big words from a small man, nothing much. But it seemed he unfortunately underestimated them and didn’t pay enough attention to safety.

During the ride they discussed the plan again and again and again. Satoru took a nervous breath, before pulling over and getting out of the car. All the boys arrived to save you and avenge the fact they were stupid enough to even put their filthy hands on you.

As they moved in stealth, they peeked through a small window, seeing you sitting in a chair, tied up. Your head hung low, blood all over your body. One of the fuckers just grabbed your hair, pulling your head up. The second your tortured face flashed Gojo became feral.

“Fuck” Nanami hissed.

“We need to go in, right now!” Yuuta’s breathing got heavy.

“Kill all of them, except that motherfucker. He’s mine.” Gojo’s cold voice scared even his men. They knew their boss was ruthless, but couldn’t even imagine what he was capable of, when it was about you. Well, they were about to find out soon.

You blinked slowly and feebly. After all, you lost a lot of blood and were tortured for hours without any break. The only thing that kept you sane was thinking about him. You knew he was coming for you, you were sure he already knew where he could find you. In that case your only job was to hold on until he arrived. Still you didn’t make any noise and especially not telling them anything.

Dave became way too angry. “If you don’t start talking then it’ll be for the best to kill you right here, right now. I’m gonna send your fucking head to Gojo. Maybe it will be a beautiful present to that arrogant piece of shit. He thinks he's untouchable. But how will he react, when he sees your pretty face in a fucking cardbox?”

“Baby, please hurry. Please, please.” you mumbled under your nose.

“What was that?” Dave sat on his heels next to you “What did you say?”

“Fuck you!” you spat some blood right into his face. Dave stood up and was about to punch you once again. But as his hand was high in the air the door of the warehouse exploded. A huge amount of smoke infested the building. Kenzo’s people started to cough and panic.

“I can’t see shit!” Jeff whined, trying to find an exit, but instead he bumped into Nanami, who sliced his throat with one precise slash. Jeff slammed his hands against his neck, before collapsing to the ground, writhing with agony, choking on his own blood.

Yuuta got around the building and got in after breaking a window. Two fully armored men were standing next to some huge card boxes, babbling in panic.

“Surprise, fuckers.” he hissed, as he reached back and pulled his sword out from its holder. Two men, two swishes. He clicked his tongue casually as he saw two heads rolling away.

Yuuji smashed the head of one of the men so many times into the wall that it became smudgy. Megumi’s manic laugh scared the shit out of his opponent. It didn’t take long for him to execute the begging man. He kept hitting and kicking him long after the guy was gone.

Gojo made eye contact with you as he walked towards the guy. He asked you to stay quiet by slowly lifting his index finger to his mouth. You nodded slightly, trying to distract Dave.

“Any last words, bitch?” Dave laughed. He was determined to kill you.

“You’re fucked!” A cocky smirk crawled upon your face as Satoru reached the man from behind.

“Close your eyes baby!” you heard him and for a second you obeyed. Dave’s unbearable scream made you shiver. After you opened your eyes, you froze from the shock of seeing Gojo grabbing the man’s throat, and stabbing a massive knife into his lower stomach. Slowly cutting him all the way up to his chest. As the blade stuck into a bone Satoru clicked his tongue irritated. Raising his leg up, propped his foot on Dave’s pelvis, he kicked the now dead body off of the blade.

Your bewildered, loud laugh made Gojo snap his face at you. You just kept laughing louder and louder second by second. “Darling?” he ran to you finally, starting to free you from the straps, which dug deep into your flesh.

“I told him.” tears were running down your face, mixing with the blood from the laughter “I told this fucker that you were going to gut him like a fish!”

Gojo froze in his action, he couldn’t decide whether to hug you, kiss you or be terrified from the thought of what actually happened to you during the hours you were here.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I am so sorry. It’s all my fault!” he kept babbling while freeing you entirely.

Even if your mind was clear your body wasn't able to function correctly. So the second you tried to stand up, your legs gave up and you almost collapsed to the ground. Gojo grabbed you, picked you up bridal style and started to walk out. “I didn’t tell them shit, ‘Toru. I kept my mouth shut. Didn’t even let them hear me scream, no matter how much they tortured me.” you smiled weakly, before passing out in his arms.

That was the point where he gave in and started to cry like a child. He didn’t care what the others would think, he let his tears run down his cheek. The guilt in him almost ate him up, an unbearable knot in his stomach, which felt like it was tearing him apart.

The woman, you, right in his arms risked her own life just to keep his information hidden from an enemy gang. He wanted to scream, yell and rage at the same time. But he also felt something else. That he was going to marry you, because you were the perfect woman for him. And he wanted nothing else, but to call you his pretty, little wife for the rest of his life.

186 notes · View notes

cyrusthedragon · 1 year ago

Text

Gentleman

Teen And Up Audience

Let's talk about Simon Riley being a gentleman for you but not the way we usually think about gentlemen.

Relationship: Simon "Ghost" Riley / f!Reader

Tags: domestic fluff, no "Ghost", established relationship, married couple, playful bullying, newborn children, Simon Riley being BIG and SOFT (and bullied), husband material

Please, comment if you liked it, it means a lot to me!

Notes:

Reader is from a rich family, but still joined the military

Reader and Simon serve(d) together

Simon Riley without his mask

AO3

Stand up so you can sit down; take off your outer clothes; pull up a chair for you; kiss the back of your hand; do not raise voice at you; if you walk on the sidewalk, then stand by the road; make sure you feel comfortable when you go out; if you bend over to pick up something under the table, then cover the corner of the table with his hand; lay his head on your shoulder just because; make two cups of tea anyway; try to say when he feels uncomfortable (not just swallow it cuz he don't wanna bother you! mister it's-not-that-deep); talk with you when something is wrong; when you look good — say out loud that you look good; ask if you need some help and actually help you, massage your tired feet.

Yeah, he doesn't really know about the etiquette and other stuff, but he knows exactly how to cherish you, trying so hard to give you that normal life he knows you deserve, even though he's so dumb that he didn't really understand you do not need 'normal life', you're as battle-scarred as he is, you just need life with him. Civilian or not, you don't give a damn about it, maybe he didn't know how to use that god-awful melon spoon, but it's okay as long as he is happy, cuz the melon spoon never was so necessary. You just love watching him, so clumsy with small and delicate things, that you can't help but just stay silent and admire how he's trying to deal with that nappy for your tiny little newborn baby daughter, who literally can completely fit in two his palms.

He was big compared to normal guy, was huge compared to you, and now he's damn giant compared to your daughter.

"Fatherhood suits you," you said, looking at him from the threshold, and laughed when he literally shuddered. The man on purpose lowered his guard down, 'cause he felt himself safe with you. Both of you, now.

"The hell are you tolkin' about... Help me instead, I can't understand how this shit works.." grumpy, messy, baby powder on his cheek, brows furrowed. If Johnny saw him right now, he'd definitely shit his pants from how scary Simon looked at that poor nappy, like it, idk, killed his beloved puppy. But as how scary it was for everyone esle, as much it was funny for you; you couldn't resist your laugh coming out, trying to hide your face with your palm, when he looked at you as severely as physically possible.

And blushed.

"Shut up."

You smiled at him widely, coming closer: "I said nothing, baby." but that wasn't true. Technically, that wasn't a lie, too. You said a lot of things, but not with words. "You can't handle one diaper?"

"I didn't say I can't handle it, dammit," he groaned, focussing on swaddling the baby who couldn't stop giggling and twitching from side to side; you rested your elbow on his shoulder, and he theatrically sighed, looking at his daughter: "Rocket fuel in your veins..." and, stooping to kiss her on her belly, added: "Just like your mother."

"I don't get it, are you bullying her?" before he realized it, you pucked girl up. She giggled, sucking on her own petit fingers, moving her legs. "You're bullying my daughter, Simon?"

"Oh goodness, love..." he clicked, you cackled, holding baby closer and moving two steps away from him, "you wanna start a fight now?"

"I don't", but considering how you smiled and looked at your daughter's very pleased reaction, you obviously wanted this: "Do you?"

"I don't," he answered, "but if you're going to continue whatever you're doing, I'm-"

"You what?" and you moved the child in your arms accompanied by her contented laughter, so Simon could see it:

You sly thing.

He can't do with you anything when you're holding the baby.

"What, you swallowed your tongue, darling?" your footsteps were coming closer to the living room, and he followed at your heels, looking almost the same as on the military, about to scold one of his soldiers. "Love..." almost growled, making the baby laugh harder, clapping; the fluff on her head swayed when you moved left and right, skirting the furniture: "Love?" you repeated after him, looking directly into his eyes without a single blink, "Now I'm love?"

"You always were my love..."

"No, five seconds ago you were threatening me!" you smiled, moving your gaze to your daughter. "He was threatening your mama, sunshine, look at him!"

"No-o!" Simon exclaimed, holding out his hands to the little one, "Princess, don't listen to her! She's lying! She was bullying me!"

"Bullying you? How can I bully you? I'm a victim here!"

"You're not!"

"Of course I am, princess saw how you were telling me you're going to do something!-" laughter, quick steps, radio talking in the kitchen, child's giggle, Simon's sighs, and two grown-ass adults argument in which each of you tried to convince a three-month-old child which of you is really a victim.

Was that the life you were expecting from joining the military?

No.

That was the life that Simon Riley gave you without your request. He just was there, silently, very bad at any good feelings, not knowing what exactly to say or how to act in some situations, learning from you by just watching how you talked with everyone, and simply remembering small things. From small things about how to interact with people, who are not broken as fu-. Ahem. To small things about you, and one day he understood — you became his healing pill. Somehow, by doing literally nothing, only existing in the same universe as him, winking to him, talking to him — actually talking, not just having some nonsense chat about the weather or your job, but discussing with him, asking about his opinion, you became a person who was so damn comfortable to him, that he couldn't deny how he's attached to you anymore.

This man appeared in your life like a silent company, then your partner on missions, then your partner for life, then your husband, and then the father of your child.

And now you were testing his limits, 'cause you wanted so.

This girl in your hands — she was the third most precious woman in his life, after his mother and you, and you knew exactly what you were doing by teasing him, not letting him go closer to you, or take her from your hands.

"What? What? Wanna say you're not bullying me? Princess, look-"

"No, princess, don't. Look at your daddy, daddy loves you, daddy would never bully your mommy."

"Liar!"

And then once again: he sighs, you giggle, baby girl made her baby sound, and the three of you were whirled around the house, from room to room, until finally, he cornered you. Literally. You pressed yourself into the corner of the bedroom with your whole body, never stop smiling, but knowing for sure that this man would not leave it so easily. You blinked, he towered over you like a mountain, put his hand on the wall and you automatically bit your lower lip, chuckling: "Are we like... In some kind of third-rate young adult drama?"

"Give her to me. Now."

A hoarse, hot, deep voice sounded right in front of you. His blue eyes into yours, and you had to tilt your head to keep eye contact, but it was completely worth it.

"Or what?" you whispered; the little one's eye's shifted from you to her father, from him to you again, Simon leaned over to you, and before this whole situation started to get too spicy, you quickly gave him the child and came out from under his quite skillful confident kabe-don. Ah, but you remember times when he was too shy to kiss you... "You can have her," you said, looking innocent, watching him trying to handle girl as delicate as possible, hissing at your actions as if scolding because you simply cannot treat such tiny, fragile creatures like that.

You can break her!

He.

Scolding you.

For not being gentle.

He.

Holding her so, so gently, carefully, holding her head straight, because she didn't know how to do it yet, frowning at you, you, an irresponsible woman!

This behemoth of a man with such a little girl in his hands.

"She's already daddy's girl, isn't she?" You murmured. Simon put her on the changing pad, you followed him. "Try again," you said, when he took the open diaper.

He sucked air deep into his lungs and began to swaddle this little giggly monster.

Action after action, extreme care, total concentration, as if he was defusing a bomb, unblinking stare until the last details, and only when girl was laying there, completely swaddled, with a pacifier in her mouth, he exhaled, closing his eyes.

"Holy f-..."

"Good job! It was that hard, baby?" You chuckled, stroking his back, when he turned to you, hugging your waist softly. "No," he whispered, breathing in your scent, mixed with perfume and the smell of a hair conditioner, "I was trying not to hurt her. She's so tiny..."

Oh, that man drove you crazy.

The level of happiness in your blood exceeded all permissible norms, you pressed into him, cheek on his cheek for a second, and kissed his cheekbone, smiling like a fool.

Or it was just him?

Big protective fool, so scared to hurt his little daughter...

You love him like this: in your arms, mumbling about how afraid he is that one day he'll do something to her, due to miscalculated strength. You weren't afraid. You knew he simply won't let it happen.

"You wouldn't." You answered, gently running your fingers through his short blonde hair, "Wanna know why?"

Simon looked into your eyes, moving away a little, so you could see him properly: "Why?"

You smiled: "Because she's our daughter," and before he let himself relax, you added, grinning nastily: "If you'll ever try to hurt her, she'll kick your ass, like it's a fucking football, darling."

Well.

Maybe... Just maybe... Maybe he wasn't a liar...

Maybe you truly enjoyed bullying him, so he can "get angry" and finally shut you up with the most delicious kiss in the world.

Simon's lips pressed to yours, your hands over his hot red cheeks, because someone's still too easy to tease, his hands around your waist, just to be sure you're not going anywhere, your eyes closed so you can remember every moment, every note of his taste. And the softness, but the conference of his movements.

Simon Riley was the best example of the word "self-control".

You never saw an another man with such power over himself that he can hold the most fragile teacup tightly and not break it.

And he was afraid?

He?

Oh, you were planning to live a life beside him and for once and for all make him see how amazing he really was.

Yes, he doesn't have some fancy private university diploma, maybe he's not a philosophy Ph.D., but, god forgive me, was he less incredible because of it? Not even a little.

He doesn't know about a melon spoon, he doesn't really like all these luxurious restaurants, he can tell nothing about Gucci house, then fuck it, fuck it all, fuck the etiquette, fuck high table manners, fuck meticulous elegance, prim ideality — the way Simon kissed you, keep you close, the way he looked at you with his eyes go wild, the way he was sucking your scent, burying his face in your neck, after holding your common child, as if both of you were priceless treasures from the depths of the sea.

Squeezing you, carefully touching her chubby pink cheek with a pad of his finger, and slowly, lightly kissing the back of your hand, pressing her close while rocking.

Yeah, he wasn't a gentleman.

He didn't have a fantastic talent for anything, couldn't distinguish Manet from Monet, and mathematics wasn't one of his strengths.

But he had his stubbornness, willpower, desire, and love for work.

Simon Riley was a hard-worker.

And that's exactly what you love in him.

"We should..." you swallowed, licking your lower lip after that disastrous kiss he gave you, "We should go on a date..."

"Why so?" just his hoarse voice made you snuggle into him, hugging his neck so tightly, as if you wanted to kill him with your own hands — that's how much you loved him. But you did nothing.

Just breathing heavily, feeling him lift you by your hips, seating you on the windowsill in your bedroom. "Because," you murmured, smacking him on the lips, "I want you to eat molecular crap in your only black suit, and grumble that this berry foam is not a real food."

And when you laughed, already hearing his old man's grumbling, his huge hands grabbed your waist again, squeezing tightly, as if purposely ignoring your mouth-watering sides.

You told Simon last morning that even though it's been three months since you gave birth, your pelvis still hurts sometimes —

Oh.

What a gentle man he was...

Haha.

#ghost #ghost cod #ghost mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x female reader #simon riley is a babygirl #ghost x f!reader #ghost x female reader #simon riley x f!reader

263 notes · View notes