#kind of a missed point if you asked me as learning more about her seems REALLY important when it comes to gregor.
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pirata-jack · 7 months ago
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So, new Ishmael Id, and thus new uptie dialogue. this ones pretty important as it vaguely refers to Catherine!
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the important thing is "that child" that the narrator refers to. and since the narrator refers to anyone with an id as a child (except for the times it doesn't lol) it can be assumed that there will be a Cathy ID. which yeah obviously duh it'd sell gangbusters amounts of moo la, but there's a more interesting bit here which is who is supposed to GET the ID.
There's only 2 female sinners left to get it, that being Rodion and Don, as Outis and Faust are Wuthering butlers as well as Ryoshu and Ishmael being Edgar butlers. so, if assuming they wish to keep Heath straight would leave just those two, though there is of course the possibility that they do a Sunshower Heathcliff thing again and not care about genders and give it to Hong Lu who would honestly fit pretty well. I suppose with who it comes down to, I think Hong Lu would fit the best as Cathy, though I honestly kinda really enjoy it being don, weirdly enough. Even if it doesn't fit very well i still think it'd be really cute to see a ghost Don floating around.
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ckret2 · 4 months ago
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Chapter 59 of human Bill Cipher possibly not being the Mystery Shack's prisoner because he got executed two chapters ago:
Everything you haven't wondered about how Bill survived his execution.
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7:27 a.m.
Mabel didn't know why, but figuring out when to ask Mrs. Grendinator to pull over had felt as stressful as trying to throw a ping pong ball into a passing car's open fuel door to land in the little fuel pipe. All she had to do was ask to pull over after they'd passed everything but the last truck stop, but before it was too late for Mrs. Grendinator to make the turn into the Triple Digit parking lot. That was a large window. It wasn't easy to miss. Somehow Mabel still dreaded that she'd speak up too late and Mrs. Grendinator would say she'd have to wait for the next rest stop—by which point Bill would have splatted like a bug against the weirdness barrier while everyone else passed safely through.
But she'd managed to blurt out "I forgot to use the bathroom at home. Can we pull over?"; they'd stopped at the Triple Digit Truck Stop; and Mabel made it inside before her friends could catch her.
She locked the unisex restroom door, set her backpack on the ground, opened it up, and sighed with relief when she saw Bill sitting on her sweater. She carefully pulled him out, set him on the floor, and pointed the height-altering flashlight at him.
For a moment after returning to his true size, he remained seated on the floor, legs bent, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Worriedly, Mabel asked, "You okay?"
"Think I learned what motion sickness is," Bill groaned. "Just—gimme a sec."
"Aww, I'm sorry." Mabel surreptitiously checked in her backpack to make sure Bill hadn't been sick on her sweater. (It was a cool one. It had kissing parrots.)
After a few deep breaths, Bill lifted his head enough to look at Mabel. The first thing he said was, "'Cool big brother-slash-sister,' huh?" He gave her a queasy, but cheeky, grin.
"Shut uuup you weren't supposed to hear that!" She'd just about died with embarrassment when Candy had repeated that where she knew Bill could hear.
"I'm flattered." Bill uncurled himself from his nauseous half-fetal position; and then, gripping onto the sink for support, got back to his feet. "Being smaller again was nice, but I'm never traveling like that again."
"You're such a whiner."
"Yeah, yeah. I have a lot to whine about. I'm dead and about to be executed. Talk about... lose your cake and... not-eat it, too."
Mabel laughed. Bill mussed her hair, grinning, and said, "Hey, you've got no room to laugh, you're the one with the not-setting-houses-on-fire bit."
"Arrrgh, don't remind me!" She pushed Bill to the side so she could use the mirror to straighten out her hair again.
"You did pretty well, though! I'd say that was some of the best acting I've ever seen out of you."
"You too! They definitely bought it," Mabel said. "Even Grunkle Stan was getting worried."
"Especially back in the kitchen, wow! That was really convincing." He paused. "Really, really convincing."
Something heavy hung in the air. Mabel focused on her hair in the mirror.
Bill said, "That bit in the kitchen about me 'depending' on you." He exaggerated the air quotes around the word, distancing himself from the concept. "It wasn't on our list."
"Yeah. It just kinda... seemed right. Improv." Mabel waved unenthusiastic jazz hands.
"It bothers you."
Mabel winced. "I mean... I'm not actually mad at you. But. I want to help, but I don't know what to do for..." She gestured at Bill. "The whole being dead on an alien planet issue."
"Believe it or not, the hoodie helps," Bill said. "Listening helps." But he couldn't meet her gaze; he was fiddling with his friendship bracelet instead. He had to know how heavy even just listening to him could be.
"I'm glad, but... I just... wish you had more friends you could talk to."
Bill nodded morosely. "So do I." It wasn't like he'd chosen to only have one friend, was it? Prisoners didn't get to make those kinds of decisions.
Mabel asked, "Do you really think I think you're just a summer fix-it project?"
"I... pfff... come on, I watched you spend all last summer handing out makeovers and dating advice. You've already done my makeup, taken me clothes shopping, and tried to pump me for info on what kinds of freaks I'm into."
(Mabel quietly filed away the fact that Bill referred to "freaks" as his preferred romantic targets.)
"That's how your summer was going to end," Bill said. "You tame the monster, go home triumphant, and don't worry about it anymore. Like how you patched up Broken Heart's love life and left him to sort out the consequences."
"No!" Mabel huffed, "I mean—maybe a little at the beginning, but... you're really my friend now, I'd hate it if I never saw you again. I don't give friendship bracelets to just anybody!"
Bill kind of thought she did; but he wasn't about to argue. "Well, I've only given one person a bracelet, and I meant it." (Even more now than when he'd originally made it.) "You're never getting rid of me now, star girl. You're stuck with me forever!"
Coming out of Bill Cipher, the promise should have filled her with dread. A month ago it would have filled her with dread. But Mabel just found it comforting. "Good."
(And Ford hadn't felt any dread when he'd sworn "until the end of time," either.)
Bill took off his backpack and rummaged through it. "Now let me make sure I can keep that promise."
He took out a map of the mountains and forest around Gravity Falls and spread it out on the floor for them to kneel in front of. "You know about the spaceship buried under town? When its ring cut through the mountain, a few chunks of the ship dislodged and were buried in one of the mountains. No human has ever found them before, not even your great uncle. That's where I'll hide."
"Are the chunks big enough to hide in?"
"Sure! There's one that'd serve as a decent studio apartment. Well—the cheapest studio apartment in Manhattan, maybe. But, hey, I don't have much furniture."
On the map, he showed Mabel a route to reach the base of the cliff, tracing it with his finger. She couldn't afford to take a map with the route marked; if the adults discovered Bill's escape and confiscated Mabel's possessions, a marked map would lead them straight to him. She'd just have to do her best to memorize the route he described. "When and if the coast is clear, you can come find me there."
"How do I get up the cliff?"
"Don't worry about that. You make it that far, I'll take care of the rest."
And that was all they could afford to discuss. Mabel couldn't hide in here for long. As Bill refolded the map (and Mabel was awed to learn he was the kind of person who could refold maps correctly on the first try), and he packed the map and the height-altering flashlight in his backpack, they each tried separately to figure out how to get around to saying goodbye.
"I uh... I know you're sticking your neck out for me, kid." (Bill wasn't used to this, wasn't used to people who didn't help him due to fear or duty or lies, wasn't used to people who still wanted to help him after they knew what he was really like.) "So, thanks—"
Mabel flung her arms around him. Her voice thick, she said, "I think your manners are getting better."
"Shut up, I've always known how to say thanks." It was gratitude that was new.
"Be safe out there," Mabel said. "Don't die, or else. Remember to eat. And drink water! And do laundry sometimes."
"All right, all right. You'll find me in better health than you left me. All the sunshine and fresh air this body can take."
"I'll miss you."
Keep it together, Cipher. He swallowed hard. "Have you ever heard the song 'We'll Meet Again'?"
"Uh-uh?"
"Old war song. Look it up once you're in Portland, when you aren't busy having synthesizers pumped in your ears."
"Is it about... how we'll meet again?"
"Yes, smartypants. Look it up anyway," Bill said. "I'll miss you too."
Mabel washed her face, left the restroom, and shut the door behind her; and Bill waited in the dark while everyone left.
####
7:45 a.m.
A woman with two children opened the unisex restroom door, and gasped in shock when she saw a human silhouette lurking in the dark, one eye shining.
"Hey, thanks, lady! Couldn't get the door for some reason." He breezed past her. "Careful, it sticks from the inside."
He grabbed an empty backpack for sale, and loaded it up with supplies, food, and drinks. (The good stuff, not the weak cider he got in the Mystery Shack. He was making margaritas tonight.) He headed up to the cash register... veered to a currently-unmanned register, stole a handful of loose change out of a tip jar, and timed his exit so he walked out just as a man walked in and kindly held the door for him.
####
7:55 a.m.
It was a fair walk from Triple Digit back to the cliffs around Gravity Falls. When Bill was a safe distance into the woods, he unzipped his first backpack, retrieved his flattened top hat, and popped it out; and then continued on, behatted and using his umbrella like a cane.
Even with no sleep, even just a couple of days after the worst hiking trip in history, even tired and sore from an hour of frenzied dancing, even carrying two full backpacks with one strap slung over each shoulder, even with the sky gloomy and overcast—this was the best he'd felt since Weirdmageddon.
His steps were sure, his body was unchained, and the future had opened up for him again.
####
8:00 a.m.
Mabel kept glancing out the window, back in the direction of Gravity Falls, waiting and waiting to see the light of some kind of killer laser cut through the sky.
Maybe the Quantum Destabilizer's beam just wasn't visible from this far. Maybe they'd decided to wait to execute Bill. Maybe they hadn't wasted their shot because they'd already discovered Bill and Mabel's ruse. Maybe the "enchantment" Bill had written hadn't done its job.
But if they had discovered Bill was missing, they would've called Mabel immediately, trying to find out what she'd done and where he'd gone.
Her phone sat hard and heavy and silent in her pocket.
The butterflies in her stomach didn't stop fluttering until long after they reached Portland.
####
10:30 a.m.
Plus or minus a few trees, the rendezvous point at the base of the cliff was just how Bill had remembered last seeing it millennia ago. The Trilazzx Betan proximity sensor that had been embedded in the cliff face since the ship crash was still there and still sensing, even after millions of years and a layer of stone had closed around it. He could see it behind the face of the cliff; and it could see him.
He took out the multi-tool pocket knife Dipper had "donated" to Bill's supplies, flipped out the blade, and carved his face in a tree far enough from the rendezvous point to avoid notice by anyone who found this spot, but near enough it could see anyone who showed up. He made it as accurate as he could—hat, bow, limbs, eyelashes. That would unfortunately make it easier for humans to identify the face if anyone happened to walk by, but his ability to connect to his other eyes was still weak, he needed as much of a boost as he could get. He licked the bark, leaving his saliva to connect the eye on the tree to him.
And then he returned to the rendezvous point at the base of the cliff, and, beneath the watchful eye of the proximity sensor, began digging in the dirt with his hands.
Beneath the soil, fortunately not buried too deep, was a stone shaped like a small tombstone with several symbols carved into its surface that superficially resembled common runes. Bill brushed the dirt off of his leggings and rubbed it out of the carved lines in the stone. It was lucky that today was overcast; it would make this thing a lot easier to control.
Bill took out the flashlight, removed the height-altering crystal, turned it on, and aimed the beam at the topmost rune.
The runes began glowing an eerie green.
The ground shuddered; and then a patch of ground five feet in diameter lifted up into the air, carrying Bill with it, tearing the grass at the edge of the circle, propelled by a long-forgotten enchanted stone platform concealed in the clump of dirt.
He rose to the gouge that the spaceship had carved into the mountain; and then he moved his flashlight's beam to another rune. The platform smoothly shifted to moving sideways, gliding beneath the ancient overhang. When he turned off the flashlight, the stone stopped glowing and gently settled to the ground. Bill stepped off, fished a spare shirt out of his backpack, and pulled it over the rune-covered stone so it couldn't take off if the sun came out. There was a reason this buried stone was the only platform of its kind left in the area outside of the deep mountain caverns: leave one outside on a sunny day where the light can hit its runes, and next thing you know it's zoomed out over the Pacific and is quickly rising toward space.
He surveyed the area. Every once in a while humans climbed up here just for the challenge of it, delightful little explorers they were; but he doubted anyone had been up here in decades. He stood in front of what was, to all appearances, a completely nondescript patch of stony ground; and he said, in heavily accented but intelligible Trilazzx Betan, "Let me in, you hunk of junk. Activate emergency crash protocols."
A fragment of ship deep beneath the ground stirred awake, registered the command, analyzed itself and concluded from the fact that it wasn't in space and was separated from 99% of the rest of itself that it had indeed crashed, and activated emergency crash protocols. In acknowledgment of the dire situation, it deactivated its usual authorized personnel list—there was no sense in waiting for the captain to approve new orders if the captain might be dead—accepted the command given by the unknown being above it, and opened its hatch.
Millions of years of solid stone groaned and buckled in protest at being moved; but Trilazzx Betan engineering was strong enough for the framework of a portal capable of ripping a hole between dimensions without being ripped apart itself. The stone yielded first. A hatch swung up, revealing a tilted chamber descending into the cliff.
Bill strolled confidently down the walkway. "Cancel distress signal. Disable life support's air filtering." The fragment of a ship beeped a warning, and Bill responded, "I'm aware of this planet's high oxygen content. You worry about your health, I'll worry about mine. Disable air filtering." The ship beeped a confirmation. "Reconnect to all external proximity sensors in range and display on screens one, two, and three." This broken part of the ship had once handled communications. It had a whole wall of screens. He wondered whether he could jury rig this thing to pick up human satellite TV. Nah, probably not worth the effort.
He slung off his backpacks and started unpacking.
####
12:04 p.m.
It was time.
Dipper sat on the floor and put his head in his hands. He felt sick.
He was dead. In just a few seconds Ford would discover that Bill was gone—Dipper was sure he was gone, they hadn't heard a peep from the room, Mabel must've snuck him out or left him some escape route—and then Ford would know that someone had warned Bill and Mabel, and then Dipper was dead—
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah." Dipper waved Ford off. "Just... didn't get much sleep. Little dizzy." Ford would never trust him again. Stan would be furious. They'd both be furious.
"You can go downstairs if you..."
"No no, I'm fine, I..." Dipper took a deep breath and lifted his head. "I'll face it." Better to get it over with now than to hide downstairs and wait for it. 
Stan nodded. "Good man." He wouldn't be so proud of Dipper in a moment.
Ford nodded, stood, opened the door—and Dipper buried his face in his hands again.
####
12:06 p.m.
Ford could see Bill up in the loft, hood up and shoulders hunched, back to the room. Ford could shoot Bill in the back without him ever waking up.
He climbed into the loft. Bill lay curled up in a ball, a small as Ford had ever seen him.
But it only took a moment for Ford's eyes to adjust to the dark; and even in the dim light through the stained glass window, he could tell:
The shape in front of him wasn't human. Just lumpy clothes.
Ford whipped around, heart pounding, clutching the Quantum Destabilizer's carrying case against his chest, searching for the real Bill lurking somewhere in the shadows. No sign of him. Ford had already looked on the floor level. Was he gone? How?
He was too dumbfounded to be outraged. He walked up to the dummy to pull it apart��
And saw the paper, folded in quarters, floating in the air above it. Four symbols in a cipher were written atop the paper. Ford recognized them: it was the alien alphabet of an interdimensional pidgin used as a written lingua franca throughout the Nightmare Realm and its bordering regions; it was so widespread that Ford had learned the alphabet before he ever left Earth.
The four letters read, "F O R D".
Ford plucked the paper out of the air and unfolded it.
Stanford–
I'll cut to the chase. I need your help. I don't want to die.
I'm banking on the hope that, in spite of everything you've said and done, part of you also doesn't want me to die.
You have a choice. You can walk out there, tell them I escaped, rally an angry mob, and comb everything under the weirdness barrier for me. This town's not that big and I'll need to eat eventually. We both know I can't hide forever.
Or you can tell them you finished the job. No one looks for me. No one knows but you and me.
I don't have rewards or deals to offer. You already know what I bring to the table. If that hasn't persuaded you to side with me by now, it never will. I'm not bargaining. I'm begging.
I'm asking you, as my friend, to help me survive.
Please.
· –·-– -–
Of course.
How dare he.
Had Bill planned this all along? Was this why he'd insisted he wanted to be Ford's friend? Was this why he'd saved his life? Maybe the entire rescue had been staged—the rescue, the performance of fear over a harmless phenomenon, the mental breakdown, all of it. For all Ford knew, maybe the accursed Axolotl was in on the scheme! How clairvoyant was Bill? Had he seen this moment coming?
But if he'd seen this moment coming, wouldn't it have been easier to just let Ford, his executioner-to-be, die? Ford and Dipper both, so Dipper wouldn't figure out how to synthesize NowUSeeitNowUDontium? If he'd saved them in spite of that, didn't that make it a sincere gesture?
But implication was clear: I've been a friend to you, now be one to me. A life for a life. There was nothing sincere in that. It was pure self interest.
(For just a couple of days, Ford really had thought it was sincere.)
But if the only reason Bill had saved Ford was to save himself—then why had Bill endangered his own life in the process?
With every thought Ford's paranoia pendulumed.
He should get Stan. Call the cops, confess who they'd been harboring for the past month, tell them everything, get a manhunt going before Bill could make it any further away. Even if he couldn't leave the weirdness barrier, there were probably hundreds of hidden hidey-holes Bill could dig himself into that humans had never seen—unexplored hallways in Crash Site Omega, uncharted caverns behind Trembley Falls where Bill didn't even need light to see. They could drag him back into the light, tie him up, aim the Quantum Destabilizer straight at him...
But. In spite of himself, he could still see Mabel's drawing hopefully reassigning Bill the role of a superhero. He could still see the crumpled drawing in his pocket—"I BELIEVE IN YOU. YOU CAN CHANGE!" He could still see Dipper tentatively asking whether they might need Bill someday. He could still see Bill playing teacher in the living room. And for a moment, for just a moment, Bill had been so good. He could be so good.
Why couldn't you have been this person?
Why can't you be this person?
What if he could be better? What if he could be decent? What if he could be a friend?
Ford didn't believe Bill was any better today than he had been the day he died. But—at some point, something had slowly turned over in Ford's mind. He believed that Bill could change. Not would change, not is changing, but could. And if Ford started a manhunt, Bill would never be a threat again—but he'd also never be better.
There was a point where the doubt and hope built up to a critical mass—when they became enough, just enough, to stay the trigger finger. Because once Ford fired on Bill, that was it. All chances were gone forever. It was over. If Bill was alive they could always try again to kill him later; but if Bill was dead, they could never try again to better him.
And for the first time in thirty years, Ford wanted Bill to be better more than he wanted Bill to be dead.
Ford looked at the dummy. Looked at the note.
And then he lay the note on the dummy, knelt by the edge of the loft, opened his case, and removed the Quantum Destabilizer.
####
12:09 p.m.
Ten minutes ago, Bill had been in the process of emptying out his backpacks and finding nooks and cubbies amongst the alien communication workstations where he could tuck his supplies, when he'd glanced out the open hatch and noticed the beforeimage of the shot lighting up the sky.
He'd come out of his shelter to watch the moment approach; but he hadn't quite believed it until it was in the present and actually happening. The blue-white beam of the Quantum Destabilizer—its one and only shot—screamed off into the sky.
"Well, what do you know," he murmured, standing at the edge of the cliff, hands on his hips, staring out in wonder over the town. "I really didn't think you'd do it."
Ford had saved his life.
Bill crossed his arms tight and tried to convince himself he didn't wonder why.
####
12:10 p.m.
Ford heard Dipper and Stan come into the bedroom and climb the ladder. He was seized by an urge to sweep away the ashes and the evidence of his trick before they could realize what he'd done.
"Grunkle Ford...?"
He forced himself to speak. "It's done."
"So... Bill is...?"
Ford suddenly realized: Dipper knew Bill wasn't in here. He must have warned Mabel, and Mabel had arranged for Bill to be alone in their room long enough to escape.
Which meant Dipper knew Bill was alive.
(Bill had written, "No one knows but you and me." Bill was covering for the kids.)
Ford turned to look him in the eyes. "Yes, he's dead."
Which meant Dipper knew what Ford had done—and knew Ford knew what he had done.
Neither one of them needed to say anything else to know what the other was thinking. They just shared a look—the two most miserable co-conspirators in Gravity Falls.
####
12:25 p.m.
Bill sat cross-legged at the edge of the cliff and watched until the afterimage of the Quantum Destabilizer's shot had faded from the sky; and then he went inside his shelter, mixed the world's lamest margarita in a coffee mug, took it outside, sat again, and toasted toward the town and the Mystery Shack.
Here's to survival.
He sat outside until the gash the Quantum Destabilizer had cut in the clouds closed and it began to rain.
####
1:10 p.m.
Stan had come and gone a few minutes ago, and already Ford had forgotten everything he'd said, if he'd even registered it in the first place.
His fingers had itched until he'd finally had a moment to steal down to his study, retrieve Journal 5, and bring it up to the guest room; and now for over half an hour he'd been feverishly writing down every single thing he could remember learning about Bill over the last two days. The drawing of his homeworld. His lecture on biangles and psychic powers. How polygons inherited their sides. (Their royalty sounded nigh on Habsburgian; had their political system ever changed?) What little details Bill had let slip about where Edward Bishop Bishop's book was wrong. (Had he told Mabel more about their relationship? He'd have to ask when she was home.) How Bill signed his letter: "· -·-- --", Morse code for "EYM," was it an acronym, was it a code, what did it mean, why did he write it in two colors? How Bill spelled Mabel's name in alien alphabets: Mabelle, Maybell, the varying extra letters. How Bill danced: how he struggled to cross his ankles, how he turned out his feet, how his spine and shoulders never bent, how the complex ways he tilted his legs and pelvis compensated for his stiff spine.
If Bill was sticking around a while longer, then these details still mattered.
He refused to forget a thing.
####
Sunday, 12:02 a.m.
As "We'll Meet Again" finished playing, Mabel turned off her phone, put it back on her nightstand, and wiped her eyes again. Big stupid dork couldn't even say this himself, he had to hide it behind a song. 
Yes. They would meet again. Law of attraction. Believing it was the first step to making it come true.
####
10:20 a.m.
The fearful butterflies in Mabel's stomach had slowly returned during the drive home from Portland. No one had texted her—was that a good sign?—but she was afraid it just meant they'd decided to let her enjoy the rest of her trip before letting her know she was grounded forever for helping Bill escape. When they'd all greeted her at the door, looking so somber, and she was sure she was about to get the bad news, she'd just had to keep acting normal and hope she wasn't gonna get in more trouble for playing dumb.
The last thing she expected Stan to say was, "Weshotim."
"Say wha?"
"We got that—space gun of Ford's working. We shot him. He's... I'm sorry, sweetie."
Mabel stared at Stan. That was impossible—there was no way they'd found Bill. But—if Stan believed he was dead...
She dragged her gaze from his face to Dipper's. Dipper bit his lips, staring at his feet. He wouldn't meet her eyes—too afraid that even looking at her would give something away.
She looked from Dipper to Ford. "Grunkle Ford?" She tried not to hope. "Is it true?"
There was no way he'd believed the dummy was real. The moment she'd read Bill's so-called "enchantment," she'd known making it believable was never the point. Bill's only real plan had always been to get Ford on their side.
For a long moment, Ford said nothing. He dragged his eyes up to meet her stare, took a deep breath, and nodded. "He's dead."
Mabel's eyes widened. Two days ago, Ford had been the one arguing that killing Bill was their only choice. If he'd changed his mind...
If anyone said anything else, she didn't register it in her excitement. She backed out of the doorway, leaped off the porch, and ran around the shack, looking for her bike. 
She had to see Bill immediately.
####
10:21 a.m.
Quietly, Dipper asked, "Did we do the right thing?"
Ford didn't know. His stomach had been twisting with guilt and doubt since yesterday. His conscience had kept him up half the night. "I hope so."
He feared they'd have second-guessed themselves no matter what.
####
2:30 p.m.
Bill was asleep. He'd been sleeping off and on for most of the past day. This was the first time since he'd died that he had somewhere safe to sleep—somewhere nobody could touch his vulnerable body, nobody could move him, drown him, kill him.
And this was the first time he hadn't been helpless and sightless.
In his sleep, he saw his own body, curled up on the tilted floor against a wall, on top of the sleeping bag and under the Pony Heist bedsheet, from an eye he'd drawn on the ceiling.
From another eye he'd drawn on the wall, he saw the ship's open hatch, the overhang above, a small sliver of the gray drizzly sky over Gravity Falls.
And from his eye on the tree, blurry and fading as the rain washed away his saliva, he saw a human-shaped mass of raucous colors exploring the pit in the ground left behind by his hovering platform.
A human? He sat up with a gasp and looked at the screen displaying the proximity sensors. Sure enough, the sensor at the base of the cliff was displaying a Mabel-shaped silhouette.
He grabbed his flashlight and climbed out of his shelter.
####
"Kid, what are you doing out out here?!"
Mabel looked up. Bill was some twenty feet above her and quickly descending on what looked like a chunk of flying dirt the same size as the pit in the ground she'd been inspecting. "Bill!" She leaned her bike against the cliff face. Finally—she'd been wandering around in the trees forever trying to figure out where Bill's rendezvous point was hidden.
"It's pouring rain," Bill scolded. "You could lose your immune system or—or slip in the mud or something."
"Wow, nice to see you too, mom." Mabel ran up as Bill landed his floating chunk of ground.
"Hey, I don't want anything happening to my favorite human!" He scooted over to make room for her on the platform. "Just couldn't wait for a sunny day to meet again, huh?"
"Psh, come on! Like you meant that literally." Near Bill, the rain had mysteriously stopped landing on Mabel. She looked up and saw the rain simply parting in the air over Bill's head.
He noticed her glance and said, "Did I ever teach you the spell to repel rain? Remind me to do that before you go." He pointed his flashlight's beam at a rune on a stone rising from the platform, and it lifted off again. "Nice sweater today." He poked one parrot-winged sleeve, its bright colors darkened by the soaking rain. "It probably looked better dry."
Mabel smacked away his hand. "Bill, guess what! Grunkle Ford decided to protect you!"
"I know, I saw the wasted shot from here." He steered the platform onto the cliff. He landed it next to a hatch that opened into a subterranean tunnel. "Of course, I always knew he would. Didn't I say we'd pull this off?"
Sure he'd known. That was why he'd lied about what the "enchanted" paper really was so Mabel wouldn't worry.
Mabel followed him down into the metal tunnel. "Do you know what this means? You can come back to the shack!"
Bill turned to stare at her in bewilderment. "Why would I want to do that?"
"Because... it's safe now? They're not gonna kill you?" Mabel squinted. "Why's it so dark in here?"
"Oh, right. You need this." Bill offered the flashlight.
Mabel turned it on. They were in a metal chamber, about half the size of the Mystery Shack's floor room and nowhere near as tall. One end of it had been torn off and dirt and stone served as the new wall. Most of the walls were dominated by heavy metal consoles, curved metal chairs, and screens, a few of which were on but flickered irritatingly. One chair still had a fossilized alien skeleton in it. Bill had put his top hat on it.
His supplies were piled haphazardly on consoles and the floor; all Mabel saw in his food pile was shelf-stable junk food and drinks. The air somehow felt more damp in here than it did outside with the rain. The chairs didn't have cushions, the floor didn't have carpet; everything was hard and cold and dark. She didn't even see a door for a bathroom in here. This was where Bill was staying?
"The Mystery Shack is safe for now," Bill said. "Just wait until Stanley decides to take another swing at me, or Dolores poisons my dinner again—or Ford changes his mind, dunks me in the bathtub, and doesn't let me back out."
"They wouldn't..." Mabel trailed off. She tried to imagine how mad Stan would be when he found out Bill was alive, and had to concede he might.
"Even if it was safe—why would I go back to that sorry makeshift prison?" Bill hopped up into one of the tilted alien chairs. There was a weird extended bit designed for alien anatomy that curved up at the end of the seat and forced Bill to straddle the chair rather than sit in it normally; it didn't look comfortable. "After almost a month and a half, I'm finally free!"
"Free inside a tiny bubble around the town," Mabel protested. "To live in a... weird little metal dirt room."
"Freely moving inside the entire barrier is a lot better than freely moving through half a shack! Surrounded by people who want me dead! I don't even get full privacy when I'm using the toilet—that's the bare minimum humans offer as basic respect! You don't know how many times I've been walked in on!"
"Do you even have a toilet here?"
Bill hesitated. "There's a—there are gas stations within walking distance."
"How are you gonna get into the restroom?"
"Fine, I'll dig a pit or something, all right? The point is, whatever I do, at least I can do it in freedom!"
He hadn't planned this through at all, Mabel realized. He'd only thought as far ahead as finding food and shelter that would last him the next couple of days. "But..." She gestured at the pathetic room around them. "The shack's got a proper roof and a shower and real food—wouldn't that be better than this?"
Bill scoffed "Only humans care about roofs and showers, and the idea of 'real' food is a social construct I reject!"
He'd be miserable here. Mabel couldn't let Bill do this to himself. "Then don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth?" She gave him a pleading look. "Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?"
There was a flash of light reflected in the dark as Bill's eyes turned away from Mabel.
"Bill?"
He didn't respond. He trudged past her, halfway up the walkway out of the ship, and stopped there, his back to Mabel, hands on his hips, staring out into the rain. He sighed. "Kid, you're trying to give me Stockholm syndrome."
"I don't know what that means."
"It means I'll think about it," Bill said, voice flat. "Go back to the shack."
Before Mabel could move, Bill said, "Hold on. Let me teach you that umbrella spell first." He turned and descended back into the ship. "And when's the last time you ate? Human bodies act pathetic if they don't get glucose every three hours. Get some lunch, it's a long bike back to the shack." He gestured at his meager food supplies.
She rummaged through the foil bags and colorful boxes and grabbed some Chipackers and sour gummy dolphins.
Bill sat near her, grabbed a bag of jerky for himself, and said, "And tell me about that concert you abandoned me to my doom for."
####
4:00 p.m.
Bill escorted Mabel down off the cliff—and, at her request, let her borrow the flashlight and wiggle the floating platform back and forth a little as they descended. He took back the flashlight when she nearly crashed the platform and killed them both.
"Where'd this come from?" Mabel asked, poking the stone. "Did the aliens make this, too?"
"Nope! This is good old local Earth magic. Ever hear of Caterpillar Man?"
"Is that some kind of superhero?"
"Afraid not. Well—ever hear of Grendel?"
"Uh-uh."
They were nearly at the ground now. "I think I'll tell you next time."
As the platform lifted him back up, Bill watched Mabel wheel her bike through the trees, slowly heading toward the main road back into town.
For a midsummer day, it was chilly in the rain.
####
Monday, 1:03 a.m.
And it was even chillier in the post-midnight dark when he knocked on the Mystery Shack's door.
####
(Eager to hear what y'all think now that you've seen the full story of how Bill survived—last week once Dipper and Mabel's roles were revealed, I think most folks thought that fully explained how Bill faked his death. ;) Next week is probably a double length chapter, because there's no graceful way to break it in half and also it'd be nice to get this plot arc wrapped up before The Book of Bill comes out lmao.)
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thewritingrowlet · 30 days ago
Text
The Crazy Lesbians pt. 1, ft. tripleS Sohyun, Xinyu
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tags: creampie, anal, strap-on, threesome—just read the damn thing, please.
length: 7k+
author's note: I know I'm late, so please don't yell at me. Also, I apologize in advance if it's too messy; I was trying to get this out as soon as possible.
edit: took me a few hours to realize that I forgot to credit @dreamcatchers-husband for the idea, so sorry and thanks. <3
-
“Yes, yes, baby! Fuck, yes!”
Xinyu has always been so expressive in bed, taking the submissive role almost all the time to complement Sohyun’s dominant side.
“I-I’m about to cum, baby,” Xinyu announces breathily. “Please keep going—p-please, I’m so close.”
Sohyun grits her teeth as she moves her hips as fast as possible, impatient to make her girlfriend cum. She finally gets what she’s wishing for: Xinyu screams very loudly when orgasm hits her hard. Usually, she’d stay inside and wait for the wave of ecstasy to die down, but today, she immediately pulls out. “T-thank you; I-I’ve been desperate for that,” Xinyu expresses her gratitude. “I love you, baby.” “I love you too, sweetie.”
Xinyu demands a cuddle, so Sohyun pulls her in for one. “Are you okay, baby? You’re thinking about something, aren’t you?” “I’m fine, sweetie,” Sohyun deflects with a smile on her face, “just had some thoughts but nothing serious.” “You can talk to me about your worries, you know; we’re in this together.” “I know, but trust me, I’m fine.” Xinyu presses her face against Sohyun’s chest. “If you say so,” she lets out a yawn, “thank you for today, baby.”
Once Xinyu goes silent, the thoughts in Sohyun’s head start running rampant. Xinyu is clueless that Sohyun has been longing for something more in bed; something that can please her in different ways, because as much as she hates to admit it, she’s getting tired of being the pleaser and would do anything as long as someone would take care of her, the same way she’s been taking care of Xinyu. Not only that but using a fake penis during sex just doesn’t feel… alive.
“Do I need a man?” Different variations of this question have been clouding her mind recently. The problem with that, however, is that everyone at campus knows her as a lesbian—how could she possibly get close enough to a man for him to get in her pants, especially since she’s in a relationship (with another woman, at that)? She’d like to think about this further, but time isn’t her friend right now; she has to go to sleep very soon, or she’ll miss the first class tomorrow.
-
A gay woman is a man’s best friend.
You’ve known Sohyun since the first day of high school, and the fact that she has come out as gay has made it so much easier for you to hang out with her, because neither of you needs to worry about falling in love with each other, thus enabling you to talk about a bunch of topics about relationships and love affairs freely.
Over yonder, you see Sohyun walking alone while her gaze is aimed at the ground, as per usual—at least, that’s what someone who’s not close to her would think, but you’re not that kind of person; there are always subtle differences in her gestures whenever her mind or body isn’t at peace, and you’ve learned how to pick it up over the years.
“Yo, hello,” you greet Sohyun, who seems to be very exhausted. “You okay?” She shakes her head. “I couldn’t sleep last night.” You ask if she wants to talk about it, and she beams for a second before her face tenses again. “Not now, but let’s have lunch together—maybe we can talk then.” You accept her invitation without thinking twice. “Sure, see you later, then.”
Sohyun arrives in the packed classroom shortly after parting ways with you. She pulls out her laptop from the bag and gets ready for class, but no matter how hard she’s trying to get her mind to focus, it keeps popping out different questions and topics to discuss with you, her friend of over 5 years at this point.
“Fuck, can’t I just skip this class?” Her heart races as she contemplates while her eyes scan her surroundings, from where her classmates are to the big door that the professor will enter from. Sohyun isn’t a fan of skipping classes, especially the important ones, but she simply isn’t in the right head space for this. “Ah, fuck it, I’m fucking leaving.” She closes the lid of her laptop again and carries it in her hand out of the classroom, not giving a piss whether someone is talking behind her back—Sohyun is an adult; she can make these decisions for and by herself.
Sohyun rushes towards the student council’s office space where she presumes you are, mixing her fast steps with short bursts of jogs. Once she arrives, she peeks through the tinted glass door to look for you, and when she sees that you’re sitting alone, she enters the room right away, not bothering to knock.
“Changmin-ah,” she calls to you, “c-can we talk?” You almost threw your phone thanks to the shock. “Goodness me, Sohyun-ah—you couldn’t fucking knock?” She sets her belongings at the desk in front of you. “P-please, Changmin-ah,” she begs, “I need your help.” “Okay, okay, sure—my God, what’s so pressing?”
Sohyun grabs an empty chair and sits on it after setting it next to you. “I need help with Xinyu,” she begins. “What about her? You want to surprise her or something?” She shakes her head. “I-I need help with bedroom stuff.” Your eyes blink in confusion. “Bedroom stuff? What are you on about?” Sohyun takes a deep breath before continuing. “Sex has been dull recently, Changmin-ah, and I’m desperate for something more.” “Okay, go on.” You see her biting her lip, visibly hesitant to speak her mind. “Ah, fuck it,” she says, “can we have sex?”
Her question stuns you for a few different reasons; she is gay and has a girlfriend—why would she want to have sex with you, a regular, straight guy?
“Say it again?” “Can we have sex, Changmin-ah? I-I want to remember what it’s like to do it with a man.” “Isn’t that cheating, though?” Sohyun shakes her head. “I-it would be cheating if I had sex with another woman, but you’re a man,” she reasons. You’re not sure if that’s the most logical reason (or the most convincing), but she seems serious about this.
You place a palm on your forehead as you think about it. “Please, Changmin-ah; I’ll make sure it’s worth your while.” You chuckle. “Worth my while? When’s the last time you had sex with a guy, by the way?” “F-five years ago,” she says in a quiet voice, and you swear that she’s about to cry.
You take her hands in yours. “Sohyun-ah, listen to me,” you say, “it’s not that I don’t want to help you, but how would having sex with someone that you’re not into help with your own sex life?” “I don’t know,” she says tearily, “I-I just wanted to see how it’d feel.”
While she’s busy sobbing, you’re busy pondering. “Alright, hear me out,” you break the silence. “Let’s do it; let’s have sex, and then you can tell me what you think about it.” Sohyun looks at you with her weepy eyes. “A-are you sure?” “You seem serious about it, so let’s do this.” She wipes the tears off her cheeks. “W-what’s the catch?” You say to her that the only condition is that no one—including Xinyu—can hear about this, which she agrees to. “Can I ask where Xinyu is first?” Sohyun tells you that Xinyu is at her campus and won’t be home until evening. “Are we doing it at my place, then?” You shake your head. “No, mine; can’t risk Xinyu suddenly arriving and catching us red-handed, can we?”
-
“Come in, make yourself at home,” you guide Sohyun into your apartment. “Wow, nice place, Changmin-ah,” her eyes roam around the interior, taking in the sights of your unit. You invite her to sit on the sofa in front of the TV. “Until we’re done today, Sohyun-ah, I will act as if you were my girlfriend; I will talk to you softly and call you by pet names—would that be okay with you?”
Her heart starts racing. The prospect of getting a soft treatment (from a man, nonetheless) makes her both excited and nervous; she’ll be dropping one side of her coin to make room for the other, one that hasn’t appeared since she started dating Xinyu.
“Can I have an answer, please?” Your question interrupts Sohyun’s train of thoughts. “Y-yes,” she says, “please take care of me.” You put on a kind and loving smile for her. “I love you, sweetheart,” you kick off the girlfriend-boyfriend play. “I-I love you too, babe,” she replies, and she can feel her cheeks getting hot.
You pull Sohyun by her hands until she’s seated on your lap. “I bet you don’t do this ever.” “No, never—if anything, Xinyu usually sits on my lap.” “It’s nice to change every now and then, isn’t it?” Sohyun nods shyly. “Never thought I’d be with a man again, but here I am.” “I’ll make sure it’s worth your while, sweetheart,” you use her words against herself, making Sohyun look away to hide her hot cheeks behind her thick hair. “Oh, please don’t say it like that,” she says. You start massaging her forearm gently. “I’ll take care of you, though—I promise you that.”
Over her head, you can see the clock that’s hanging over your TV, and you’re reminded about something. “Sweetie, have you had breakfast?” Sohyun shakes her head. “Would you like to order something, then?” Sohyun nods timidly. You hand your phone over to her, letting her order whatever she wants. “Just make sure to order for me as well, okay?” She fiddles with your phone a little before handing it back to you. “I ordered some iced latte and toast for us, babe.”
Despite your best efforts to suppress your excitement, your lips still form a smile when Sohyun refers to you by that name. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m so excited about it—I mean, you’re someone else’s,” you say. Sohyun gives you a peck on the lips. “Whoever gets in a relationship with you will be so happy,” she comments. “I can tell that you’d be such a good boyfriend.”
Initially, you’re grinning, but the way she’s frowning erases it right off your face. “I’m such a bad girlfriend for Xinyu, aren’t I? I convinced her to get in a relationship with me in this society, but here I am, running away with a guy.” “Is she only into women, or?” Sohyun says that Xinyu plays for both sides, which you think is unfair because she’s undeniably very attractive.
You stay silent, trying to stitch together a reply that’s both sensible and comforting, and it goes a little bit like this: “first of all, I’d like to praise you for being so daring and challenging the norms of society in the name of love,” you start. “As for being a good or bad girlfriend, I don’t think you’re a bad person in your relationship.” Sohyun chuckles. “You didn’t even address the running away with a guy part.” You want to open your mouth, but she manages to get her piece off first. “Thanks, though; I know you tried giving me an assuring answer, so you’re getting an A-minus for your efforts.”
-
Your doorbell rings—food must be here. You say to Sohyun that you’ll be picking up the food, but she doesn’t budge, comfortably sitting still in your lap. “Don’t scream, okay?” “What do—ah!” You lift her by her thighs and carry her to the door. “Wait, wait, I’m heavy; please put me down.” You peck her on the cheek. “Honestly, you’re not heavy at all,” you say.
You grab the bag of food and make your way back to the sofa with Sohyun in your embrace. “Let’s eat, sweetie.” You expect her to pull away from the embrace, but no, she doesn’t budge one more time—she even tightens her arms that are wrapped around your nape. “Let’s stay like this; I want to savor this moment,” she says.
You reach around her body and grab a toast and a latte from the bag. “I’ll feed you, sweetie; open your mouth.” Sohyun takes a bite of the toast that’s in your hand. She then chases it with a sip of latte that’s in your other hand. “Oh, yeah, that’s good,” she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, “thanks, babe.” “Gladly, my love.”
Sohyun is feeling odd; her cheeks are very hot, and her stomach is full of butterflies. She hasn’t allowed any man to make her feel like this in years, and within less than an hour of hanging out with you privately and pretending to be your girlfriend, she’s starting to think that maybe there are kind and loving men out there who deserve consideration.
“You alright, Sohyun-ah?” You ask to make sure her mind is still with you. “That’s not my name, is it?” You’ve known her all this time, but only now do you notice how pretty her eyes are from this close of a distance. Your hand, as if capable of thinking independently, moves towards her face, stroking her soft cheek like she was yours. “Respectfully, sweetie, I think you’re very beautiful.” “You’re kind of cute yourself,” she whispers. You chuckle. “Kind of, hey? Sure, I’ll take it” Sohyun presses her forehead against your lips, “forcing” you to kiss her there. “I don’t know how you’re still single—these girls are missing out,” she says. “Eh, you know, I’ve just been so busy with myself; getting into a relationship doesn’t sound like a good idea at the moment.”
Sohyun places her hands on either side of your face. “What about getting in my pants? Does that sound like a good idea?” You scan her face to gauge her seriousness. “I’ll do it if you’d let me.” Sohyun grins. “Take care of me, please.”
On the way to the bedroom with Sohyun still in your arms, you barrage her face with pecks, mixing it with quick kisses occasionally. Even after you’ve arrived in the bedroom, the two of you still don’t stop. “Please, babe,” Sohyun is the first to crack, “can we start already?”
You take a seat on the edge of the bed, thinking that you still have a few things to address first. “Sweetheart, before we begin,” you say, “let’s talk about some stuff.” Sohyun bites her bottom lip (nervously, not sexily). “Let’s begin with the elephant in the fridge: you’re a gay woman, and I’m a man. Aside from that, you’re in a relationship with someone else. Are you sure you want to do this?” You hope that Sohyun was listening carefully to your little monologue (and managed to catch the little joke).
Sohyun stays quiet, which makes you feel like you need to provide a reason as to why you’re bringing up such topic. “Sweetheart, I just don’t want you to regret this later,” you say. She takes a deep breath. “I know, and I still want to do it with you.” “Well, lucky for you, I have some condoms.” She taps your nape with her finger to get your attention. “Actually, I was thinking about not using that,” she says, “n-no one else would be getting between my legs anyway.” You peck her on the lips as a sign of agreement. “As you wish, sweetie.”
You notice that Sohyun’s breathing is speeding up as you’re unbuttoning her shirt. “Are you okay? Do you want to change your mind?” “I-I’m fine; please continue.” You know that she has quite the sizable breasts, but you’ve never seen them this close and bare before. “Y-you like them?” You nod. “Yes, I do, sweetheart.” She then gives you permission to touch them, so you do just that. “My, your girlfriend must love your breasts so much,” you comment. Sohyun wants to say something, but a gasp escapes her lips, interrupting her. “S-she does—s-she always put them in her mouth.”
You reach around to unlatch her bra, but after thinking again, you decide to let it stay on; something about Sohyun in a shirt makes you very aroused, and you’d like to have her stay partially dressed like this. “You’re insanely hot, you know? God, you’re fucking amazing.” Your whispered words make the entirety of her body hot, and Sohyun can’t help but wonder if this is what being with a man is like. “Xinyu would go crazy with this guy,” she thinks.
“B-babe,” she calls to you, “w-would you be down to have a threesome with us one day?” “You and Xinyu?” Sohyun nods. “I-I feel like you’d t-take care of us so fucking well.” You peck her on the chest, right above her cleavage, before answering. “I’ll do it if you both agree to.” She places her cheek right against yours. “If you do well today, I promise I’ll bring Xinyu to you,” she whispers, and you can feel your arousal peaking at the prospect of having sex with two very hot women at once. “I will do my best, sweetheart.”
Sohyun gets off your lap to take off her jeans and panties. “Show me,” she says, “show me what you can do, babe.” You place a hand on her crotch, finding out that she is so wet already. “You’re excited to see me, aren’t you, sweetie?” The way her breathy moan hits your face is very arousing. “We’ll be having so much sex today, so I hope you can keep up,” you say, teasing her. “F-fuck me, baby,” she urges you, “let’s forget about everything else—today is ours.” You never thought you’d hear such words from her, but here you are. “Damn right.”
Sohyun slowly lowers herself onto your cock, promptly gasping and moaning because of the sensation that has been forgotten to her. “Fuck, Xinyu, I’m so sorry, baby.” She still has the head space to think about her girlfriend who’s doing God-knows-what at campus right now. It is when your lips hit hers that her thoughts are interrupted. She lets out small moans every time the kiss is broken while her hips are busy bouncing along your shaft.
“You like this, baby?” You whisper those words for extra arousal factor. “Yes,” she whispers back, “I feel alive, baby.” You’re not sure initially what she’s saying, but you guess that she’s probably has had so much sex with a dildo (which is a dead object, obviously), while you’re very much alive. “I-I don’t think I can last long like this, babe,” she adds.
You want to latch your lips onto her neck that’s right in front of your mouth, so you ask first. “Can I mark you, baby?” “N-no, b-but I’ll mark you,” she replies. You let out a deep exhale when you feel her wet lips on the side of your neck, and in response, you make her bounce faster on your cock. “C’mon, baby; let’s cum together, ‘kay?” Based on the little nibble, you estimate that Sohyun likes that idea.
“Baby, I’m about to cum," you announce after what feels like forever. “Oh, yes, me too,” she locks her gaze with yours, “make me cum, please.” Since she’s asking so nicely, you decide to cooperate by thrusting your cock upwards, thus filling your bedroom with clapping sounds on top of the moans that she’s letting out. Sohyun seems to be enjoying this too, as proven by how her eyes keep rolling towards the back of her head.
The way your cock is twitching in her pussy serves as a warning for you. “Babe, get off,” you say, “I’m about to cum.” Seeing that she’s still fucking herself on your cock makes you think that she didn’t hear it. “Babe, please, I’m about to cum,” you repeat. “J-just give it to me,” Sohyun finally responds. “Fill me, baby.”
Having been shown the green light, you pick up the pace again after slowing down moments ago. Finally, with a grunt, semen comes out of your shaft in abundance, filling her like she asked you to. “That’s so warm,” she comments. “D-did you cum too?” Your voice is rather breathy thanks to the orgasm. “I-I don’t think so,” Sohyun says, and admittedly, you’re disappointed in yourself for failing to make her cum. “I’m sorry, baby.” She laughs out loud. “What for? Because I didn’t cum?” She laughs again when she sees you nodding. “Please, it’s good enough as a start—don’t be too hard on yourself, babe.”
Sohyun lifts herself off your lap, letting some excess semen drip onto the floor. “Oops, sorry, babe.” You chuckle. “I’ll clean it up later.” She holds your chin and moves it upwards for a kiss. “Thank you, but I have something to ask.” “Yeah, ask away.”
Sohyun moves her head oddly close to your face. “Can you fuck Xinyu too?” You’ve talked about this before, but that conversation was clouded by horniness. Now that she’s asking again, however, you’re having second thoughts. “Babe, listen,” she hasn’t dropped the name yet, “Xinyu deserves to be this happy as well, you know.” “I mean, if you really want to, then sure.” Sohyun smiles in satisfaction. “Thanks, babe—I owe you.”
-
As soon as Sohyun enters her apartment, Xinyu comes running towards her with teary eyes. “Babe, you didn’t pick up the phone—where were you?" “Sorry, I was a bit busy, baby,” Sohyun deflects, because in reality, she was at the pharmacy to get some morning after pills. Xinyu, gullible as ever, believes what she just heard and simply comes in for a hug. “I’m glad you made it home.” “I’m glad to be home too, baby.”
Xinyu drags Sohyun to the dining table where she has prepared some fried chicken for dinner. “I got a coupon from my previous purchases, so we’re having fried chicken today,” she says. “Of course, babe,” Sohyun says, “let’s eat then.”
As Sohyun is chewing her bite, her mind goes back to this morning, and she finds herself comparing Xinyu to you. Xinyu is doing her best to take care of her girlfriend, but it’s not quite the same as the way you did it—there’s something about your ways that’s different but indescribable.
“You’re thinking about something again,” Xinyu manages to catch on. After sighing, Sohyun decides to speak plainly. “Babe, are you still interested in guys?” The question makes Xinyu nervous. “I-I don’t know,” she says, “I-I’m not leaving you for a guy, though—cross my heart.”
Sohyun proceeds to ask if Xinyu would be down to have a one-night stand with her and a guy. “A guy? Who?” “Changmin-ie,” Sohyun mentions your name casually. “B-but why do we need him? A-are you bored of me, perhaps?” Sohyun reaches for Xinyu’s hands. “I’m not bored of you, babe—I was just thinking if maybe we can spice things up for ourselves.” Sohyun knows that the only reason she’s thinking about “spicing things up” is because of boredom, and she seriously hope that Xinyu won’t give her too much trouble and interrogate her further.
“Fine, I’ll fuck him—I’ll do it for you,” Xinyu says. Sohyun shakes her head. “You’re not doing this for me, babe; you’re doing this for us. I swear you’ll thank me later.”
-
The bell of your door rings, and when you open it, you see Sohyun and Xinyu. “Can I help you, ladies?” Sohyun pinches your stomach lightly. “You and your words, babe.” Your eyes widen in shock, concerned about how she’s referring to you by that name in front of her girlfriend. “Oh, erm, welcome,” you step aside to let them in.
The two ladies enter your apartment while holding hands. “That’s cute,” you think. “Do you girls want some water—some soda, perhaps?” Sohyun asks if you have diet coke, which you do, coincidentally. “I’ll take that, please.” “What about you Xinyu-yah?” Xinyu says she’d like to also have a can of diet coke, so you grab one more for her.
You hand each girl a can of diet coke. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” “Oh, c’mon, don’t act stupid like that, babe,” Sohyun just won’t stop saying that name, and you can feel your heartbeat getting faster. “So-Sohyun-ah,” you’re getting nervous, “erm, are you sure you can call me that?” Sohyun looks at Xinyu quickly before turning back to you. “Yeah, I can—what, you scared of her?” You scratch your head. “Not scared necessarily, but I am concerned.”
As Sohyun is about to open her mouth, Xinyu speaks first. “I was told that you guys had some fun when I was at campus this Tuesday,” she says. You take a few deep breaths to calm your heart and mind. “Yes,” you admit plainly, “Sohyun-ie asked me if she could have sex with me, so we did.” “Did you like it?” “I did; I did my best, but I didn’t make her cum.” She clicks her tongue in mockery for your failure.
Out of nowhere, Xinyu slams her can of coke on the table and then sits on your lap. “You tried stealing my girlfriend from me and somehow managed to fail miserably—fuck you, you asshole,” she insults. “Xinyu-yah, I—” “Bad!” Sohyun yells out, scolding Xinyu for her bad behavior. “That’s not how you speak to him, Zhou Xinyu; he’s one of the good ones.”
Much to your surprise, Xinyu gets off your lap and kneels on the floor. “I-I’m sorry, I-I don’t know what got into me.” She gets visibly even more nervous when Sohyun suddenly stands so close next to her. “What happened to your manners, Miss Zhou, hm?” “I-I’m sorry—please, I’m so sorry.” Xinyu places a hand on your knee, begging to be saved from Sohyun’s anger. You try convincing Sohyun that you’re not offended nor is Xinyu being naughty, but she’s not entirely convinced. “We’re punishing her in the bedroom,” Sohyun says, her tone resolute.
Sohyun drags her girlfriend towards your bedroom while you’re still sitting on the sofa, stunned by the sight that just happened in front of your eyes. “Oi,” Sohyun steals your attention, “did you not hear what I said?” “Yeah, yeah, one second.” You shake your head rapidly to clear your mind before walking to your bedroom to join them.
When you enter, Xinyu is on her knees on the floor while Sohyun is standing in front of her with her arms crossed. “In case you forgot, Xinyu-yah, Changmin-ie over here is my best friend; even though our relationship has been a platonic one, I’ve found myself relying on him for a bunch of things. Not only that, but he’s also been supportive of our same-sex relationship—did you catch all that?” “Y-yes, mommy.” You want to poke a finger into your ears to see if maybe you heard that wrong. “I-I’m sorry, mommy; I-I was wrong to lash out like that.” Nope, you didn’t hear that wrong.
You stand between Sohyun and Xinyu, pushing her backwards to give Xinyu some space to breathe. “Sohyun-ah, calm down, please—I’m okay, you know.” “But she wasn’t behaving well,” she counters. “It’s understandable, don’t you think? We did have sex behind her back." Sohyun lets her arms fall freely and lets out a deep sigh. “This is what I meant when I said I wanted to be taken care of,” she says, “I’m tired of running around taking care of people and being responsible for them.”
When you look behind you, you see that Xinyu is looking at the two of you with a neutral face. Facing forwards again, you slowly put your arms around Sohyun’s body. “It’s okay, I understand; I’m sure it’s been exhausting for you to take on this role,” you say softly right into her ear. “Thanks, babe—it’s been great to have you as a friend.” It’s funny to hear her call you “babe” but say “friend” in the same sentence, but she’s right; Sohyun is still into women possibly until the end—unless she somehow becomes straight again—and your relationship with her is a platonic one.
You pull away from the hug so that you can turn your attention to Xinyu. You take a knee in front of her, getting to her eye level. “Hi, there,” you say, “how much did she tell you about what we did?” “I-I heard that the two of you pretended to be boyfriend and girlfriend.” You put on a smile for her. “That’s right, so can I talk to you like you were my girlfriend too?” Xinyu nods a little. “Great,” you say, “stand up, please, sweetheart.” Once she’s on her feet, you pull her in for a hug, the same way you did with Sohyun. “Sohyun-ie loves you so much, you know that? She goes against the norms so that she can be with you, sweetie.” Xinyu places her forehead on your shoulder. “I know,” her voice is almost too quiet to reach your ear. “I love her so much too, Changmin-ah,” she adds.
As soon as you get out of the way, the two women rush towards each other for a hug, much to your delight. Not only that, but they also start apologizing to each other and exchanging promises to be better as active participants in their relationship. “Love is in the air—let’s go!” You exclaim, getting excited on their behalf.
They break their hug and pull you into a three-way hug. “I’m so happy for you guys,” you say. “I must say, though, you need to stop playing for both sides if you can help it, Xinyu-yah; I’d love to have a girlfriend as well, you know.” The two girls laugh at the same time. “Hey, we can be your girlfriends on our free time,” Sohyun says. It’s now your turn to laugh. “Yeah, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
You take a seat on the edge of your bed. “So, we’re not going to punish anyone, are we?” Xinyu looks at Sohyun nervously, but Sohyun is quick to shake her head to clear things up. “We’re going to have sex later, if that’s okay,” she says. “Can we buy some food first?” You pull out your phone from your pocket and throw it to Sohyun, with whom you’re used to throwing and catching phones. “Go order something, I’ll pay.”
Sohyun and Xinyu scroll up and down on your phone to find something to buy, and before long, your phone is back in your hands again. You lie down in bed and are joined by the girls right after; Xinyu spoons Sohyun, and Sohyun hugs you from the side. “We look like sardines, don’t you think—or kittens, perhaps?” Xinyu giggles. “What kitten have you seen is this tall?” “Yeah, where did you get your height from, by the way?” “My parents are average height, but the mailman is tall.” You didn’t expect Xinyu to have this sort of joke in her bag, and you (Sohyun, too) can’t help but burst out laughing. “What the f—what do you mean mailman?”
-
Sohyun immediately starts touching Xinyu after getting back in your bedroom, ignoring your presence in the room. “Girls, it’s only 1—what are you doing?” Sohyun, who’s mounting her girlfriend, turns her head to look at you. “What the hell does it look like?” You take a seat on the stool near your computer desk. “Alright, I hope you don’t mind me watching, then.” “Not at all—we’ll show you how we do things,” she says before returning to the task at hand.
Xinyu, without being told, takes off her T-shirt, revealing the lacy bra underneath, and you sincerely hope that she has matching panties on. “Touch me, mommy—touch me while daddy is watching.” Thinking that shit is about to hit the fan, you free your cock from its constraints and start stroking yourself. “You see that—daddy is horny for you, baby,” Sohyun points at you, “would you let daddy touch you?” “C-can daddy touch me like you do, mommy?” You can’t hear what Sohyun just whispered to her but based on the smirk on Sohyun’s face when she glances at you, it must’ve been a naughty one.
“M-mommy, I’m wet for you.” “I can tell, baby,” Sohyun replies, “you want to get fucked, don’t you?” Sohyun jumps off her girlfriend when she sees her nodding and makes her way towards the small backpack on the floor, and at the same time, Xinyu uses the chance to take off her jeans—you manage to catch the lacy panties right before they were discarded. “Which one do you want, baby?” “N-number two, m-mommy.” Sohyun fishes out a strap-on that you estimate is as big as your cock and puts it around her waist. “Watch us, Changmin-ah,” she says to you as she climbs into the bed again.
Xinyu lets out a loud moan when the fake dick enters her pussy. “F-fuck me, mommy—please, please, please.” Sohyun folds her girlfriend in half and starts fucking her fast right out the gate. “Fuck, I can’t take this anymore.” You approach Sohyun from behind and bend forwards until your mouth is right in front of her asshole. “Excuse me, ladies.” You start licking Sohyun’s rear while she’s busy smashing her girlfriend, and judging by how she’s moaning, you know that she’s into this type of thing.
Sohyun finally slows down after a few minutes as exhaustion starts to set in. You, noticing the change of pace, pull your tongue away from her rear. “B-babe,” she turns her head to the side to see you, “y-you’re insane—who taught you that?” “Wouldn’t you like to know,” you peck her on the back of the head, “did you like it?” “Y-yes,” she blushes, “please do that again later.”
Xinyu, feeling left out of the conversation, expresses her desire for attention. “M-mommy, d-daddy,” she calls to the two of you, “w-what happened?” You hug Sohyun from behind, positioning your head next to hers so that you can look at Xinyu. “I ate mommy’s ass, baby,” you say, “she liked that a lot, you know.” Xinyu gasps. “You’re insane, daddy—no wonder mommy came to you for help.” You smile naughtily. “It’s your turn next, okay?”
Sohyun calls a timeout, mentioning her exhaustion as a reason. “Fuck her, babe,” she whispers to you, “better yet, make her cum.” You take her position between Xinyu’s legs after she’s moved out of the way. “Do I have your consent, baby?” Xinyu nods enthusiastically. “Alright, here I go, then.”
If Sohyun was rough earlier, you take a softer approach this time, giving some nice and slow thrusts to Xinyu. “I love you, baby—I love you as much as mommy does.” You see that her eyes are tearing up. “I-I feel complete, daddy; you’re such a perfect fit for me and mommy.” You guess that this is her double-sidedness speaking, but it’s good to hear that she doesn’t hate you or anything. “I love you, baby,” you repeat.
As you’re starting to move again, you feel some odd sensation is an odd spot—Sohyun is returning the favor, eating your ass the same way you did her. “Oh, fuck,” you utter, “fuck, you two are going to make me pass out.” Xinyu places a hand on your cheek. “You’re happy, aren’t you, daddy?” “Very, baby,” you reply.
You keep delivering thrusts to Xinyu, using her moans as fuel to keep up the pace of your movements. Sohyun, on the other hand, has had enough of eating your ass, opting to sit on Xinyu’s face, thus putting extra pressure on the moaning, stuffed girl. “Are you sure she can take this?” “Yeah,” Sohyun answers, “I’ve sat on her face many times.”
So, here is how things are going: you’re fucking Xinyu while also tongue-wrestling with Sohyun, whose pussy is getting eaten by her girlfriend. A part of you wonders what your parents would think if they could see that their son is having this crazy of a threesome.
Sohyun suddenly pulls away from the kiss. “Fuck, I’m about to cum,” she announces. The way she’s moaning louder must mean that Xinyu is stimulating her more like the good girl she is. With a scream, Sohyun lifts herself off Xinyu a little bit and sprays juice right into her waiting mouth. “Oh, fuck, me too.” You pick up the pace to chase your orgasm, and when it hits, you lodge your entire length in Xinyu’s pussy and fill her from the other end.
Both you and Sohyun leave Xinyu at the same time, and you can see how messed up she is: her messy hair is all over the place, her mouth is full of Sohyun’s squirt, and your semen is leaking out of her pussy. “Fuck, we went hard on her,” you comment. Sohyun pets her girlfriend’s head softly. “Good job, baby—good fucking job,” she praises her, “I told you he’d help a lot, didn’t I?” Xinyu swallows the juice in her mouth and nods weakly. “Should we get cleaned up?” “I’ll go first—I’ll get a shower,” Sohyun says.
While Sohyun leaves to get cleaned up, you take care of the exhausted Xinyu. “Are you okay, baby?” Xinyu nods again. “M-mommy and daddy used me.” The way she’s phrasing it makes you wonder if it was too much for her. “I-I’m tired, daddy, b-but I also want more.” “Let’s rest for now, baby; we can think about going again later.”
-
“Oi, oi, oi, look at you, sleeping in each other’s arms like a couple,” Sohyun comments as she walks in the bedroom after showering. “Mommy,” Xinyu reaches out an arm, inviting Sohyun back to the bed. She moves to spoon her, squeezing Xinyu between you and herself. “I’m here, baby—are you okay? Are you tired?” “I want—” A yawn cuts her off. “I want one more, mommy.” Sohyun chuckles. “Aren’t you drained, though?” “N-no, I-I can take it.”
“Yah, wake up,” Sohyun slaps your thigh to wake you up. “Xinyu wants to go again.” “Huh? Yeah, sure.” You rub your eyes to get yourself together. “One second, please.” Sohyun reaches for your cock and starts stroking you to get it hard. “We don’t have a second,” she says.
Like magic (not really), your cock gets rock-hard in no time. “How do you want us, baby?” “I-I want to give mommy and daddy my virginity.” It’s obvious that she’s talking about her ass. “Is that so?” Sohyun looks at you with a naughty smile on her face. “Alright, I’ll take it, baby, and then we can give daddy a sloppy second—how does that sound?” “S-sounds great, mommy.”
Sohyun flips Xinyu onto her stomach. “Pass me that strap-on, daddy.” You throw it to her, and she wears it around her waist like earlier. She then covers it with her spit before lining it up towards Xinyu’s rear entrance. “Watch us, daddy.” You nod as you start stroking your cock mindlessly at the sight of these crazy lesbians.
Xinyu lets out a gasp when the tip of the rubber cock hits her asshole. “Please be gentle, mommy.” Sohyun simply nods, which isn’t very assuring, and moves her hips forwards, negotiating (or perhaps forcing) her way into Xinyu’s rear. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! MOMMY!” Xinyu’s screams are concerningly loud, and you sincerely pray that no one will file a noise complaint against you.
“Fuck, there we go, baby,” Sohyun’s strap-on is in Xinyu’s ass all the way, “you’re completely mine now, aren’t you?” “Y-yes, mommy,” her voice is partially absorbed by the pillow that her face is pressed against. Sohyun pulls Xinyu’s hips backwards until they’re up in the air. “I’ll start fucking you, baby.”
True to her words, Sohyun begins fucking her girlfriend’s virgin ass with reckless abandon, not giving a piss about how she’s screaming from the top of her lungs, straining her vocal cords like never before. “Fuck, this is crazy,” you mindlessly utter while still busy stroking yourself. Sohyun is slapping Xinyu’s ass as she goes too, adding more craziness to this whole thing. “Fuck, if only I could feel how tight you are, baby,” Sohyun comments. “But you’re a virgin here, so you must be very tight.”
Not too long after the first penetration, Xinyu announces with a yell that “her pussy is cumming” (odd phrasing, isn’t it), and true enough, juice begins spraying out of her pussy, splashing all over the bed and even the floor. Sohyun, thinking that her job is done, retreats from the forbidden hole, leaving it gaped and winking. Sohyun mounts her girlfriend’s butt and starts pecking the back of her head endlessly, expressing her gratefulness and adoration. “I love you, baby—I love you so, so, so much.” “I-I love you too, mommy,” Xinyu replies feebly.
You notice that you’re leaking precum from your tip, and because you don’t want to actually bust, you stop stroking your cock. “Do you girls need anything? Water, or towel, maybe?” “Water, lot of it; Xinyu needs it,” Sohyun says. You jog out of the bedroom and grab some bottled water for the ladies. “Here, here—have a sip.” Sohyun drinks half in mere seconds before passing it on to Xinyu, who finishes the rest.
-
Tomorrow is Saturday, and because no one has any classes, Sohyun and Xinyu decide to stay the night at your apartment.
“Good night, girls—I’ll be on the sofa if you need me.”
You crash onto the sofa, only now realizing how drained you are. It doesn’t seem like your day is ending just yet, though, as Sohyun is walking out of the bedroom to join you in the living room, taking her spot on your lap. “Yes, sweetie?” “Thank you, babe,” she says, “you helped a lot today.” You smile amidst the exhaustion. “I don’t want to take too much credit, but you’re welcome; I’m happy for the two of you.”
Sohyun comes in for a hug and quickly lets out a sigh. “I love you, and I love her,” she piles on. “I’m still not falling for a guy, though.” You chuckle. “I mean, it’s not like you have to.” She gives you a peck on the cheek. “Can’t believe I fucked Xinyu in the ass.” “Oh, believe me, it was a crazy fucking sight to watch—you had me wondering if you would’ve given me a turn.” Sohyun looks at you right in the eyes. “We have all day tomorrow, don’t we?” You nod, partially hopeful about continuing the fun tomorrow. “What do you have in mind?”
“Maybe I’ll let you fuck Xinyu in the ass tomorrow, and maybe, I’ll let you fuck me in the ass too.”
“Miss Park, you are one crazy lesbian.”
“You know it, and now you love me for it.”
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faeriichaii · 9 months ago
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Hi!! Can you write something fluffy between Legolas and a female human reader? Even though Legolas has been around for a while, he is always watching the reader because he wants to learn about her little quirks and customs. The reader is always like “uhhh Aragorn why is he just staring” but Legolas reveals that it’s cause he finds her cute and wants to get to know her more while they’re together on the fellowship :)
Little Quirks ~ Legolas x Fem!Human!Reader
A/N: Ahh I missed writing for Legolas haha!! At this point he is like a major part of my life lmao <33 Ngl this took me longer than normal? Maybe I got a little rusty during my little time off haha rip but yeah here you go I hope you like it!!
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: fluff ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 1.3k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Meleth Nin ~ My Love ࿐ྂ
Summary: The elven prince for some reason couldn't stop staring at you, which in return made you confused and very curious, as to why his eyes were constantly following you around.
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Legolas tilted his head to the side, smile gracing his lips, as his eyes focused on the way you polished your weapons to perfection. The dagger in your hand reflecting the bright fire in front of you, while you rubbed a cloth against the handle. A few gems were embedded into the metal, giving it some colour. You can’t quite remember when you got the dagger, but you knew you would be incredibly upset if you ever lost it. Holding it out in front of you, you inspected it for any kind of grime or dirt that still could be there. While doing so you notice that the elven prince has been staring at you for quite a while. He always seems to be staring at you, no matter what you were doing. It not just confused you, but also made you feel unsettled to some extent. “I hope you don’t mind me taking up the space beside you.” Aragorn said, as he made himself comfortable on the log beside you. His sword was on his lap, as he began to clean it off of the dried blood from the battle of a few hours ago.
“Of course not.” You placed your polished dagger into the leather holster that was secured on your thigh, before grabbing your own sword to take care of it as well. Taking a quick glance towards Legolas, you notice that his attention was now on Gimli, who seems to be mentioning one of his stories to him. “You know the elven prince well, right Aragorn?” You asked him, while running the cloth against the metal. “I wouldn’t say that I know him well, but I do know him longer than most of the fellowship do.” He sat his sword aside, before turning towards you. “What is on your mind?” “Well, I have noticed that he always seems to be watching me, no matter what I do. Like for example last week.”
Standing in front of the pot, you stirred it with the wooden spoon before adding a few more leaves. Normally Sam would be the one in your place, however you insisted to take his place for the night and make everyone one of your favourite dishes. You added in the few chopped vegetables you had prepared earlier. Noticing a certain gaze on your figure, you looked up from the dinner you were making. Legolas smiled softly at you, before lowering his gaze from you. You didn’t think much about it, until you took another glance into his direction and caught him again.
“Is everything alright Legolas?” “Yes, of course.” He said, his eyes never leaving you once. After a bit of more stirring, you poured a little of the stew into the bowls, before handing them out. Walking over to Legolas, you sat beside him before giving him his own food. “I really liked the song you hummed.” You tilted your head to the side at his statement, not really understanding what he meant. He noticed your puzzled expression, smiling gently at you. “You were humming while you prepared the dinner.” “Oh- I did not notice.” A soft embarrassed blush dusted your cheeks. “I hope it did not disturb you in any way. I normally hum only at home but I guess I was so much at ease that it just happened.” “Like I said (Y/N), I really enjoyed it. Maybe you could teach me the song sometime.”
“That does sound completely normal to me. He just enjoyed the melody.” You huffed at Aragorns statement. You knew that this sounded like it was nothing special. But it was not the only time you caught him staring a little longer.
You were standing in front of one of the many stalls of a small town. The fellowship decided to take a quick tour through the closest town, in order to stack up on some essentials needed for your travels. Of course, you tried to focus only on things you really needed for the journey, however the shiny jewels from the table beside the one you were currently browsing through caught your attention. “Welcome young lady, what can I do for you today?” You gazed upon the silver and golden necklaces that were laid out in front of you. “How much would that be?” You asked the merchant, holding up a golden bracelet, that had a little heart charm attached to it. “Around 30 coins.” You bit your lip in thought at his answer, only having so many coins in your little pouch. “I will be thinking about the offer, thank you.” Putting the bracelet back onto the table, you made your way towards another one. This one sold various items like books, as well as scrolls, bags, pouches, brooches and other little trinkets. Taking a beautiful hand mirror into your hand, you looked at your reflection. You noticed a familiar elven prince in the background, who seems to be looking into your direction. Tilting your head, you stared back at him through the reflection.
After a while of staring back at him, you put the mirror back onto the table and decided to approach him. As soon as he noticed you, a smile graced his lips. “Have you already gotten everything you needed?” He asked you, as you stood beside him. “Well, not really. But I have been wondering something else.” You tilted your head to the side as you mustered him. A smile was still present on his lips, as he mirrored your movement. “Why have you been staring at me again?” “Have I?” “Yes!” At this point you believe he was mocking you. You caught him through the mirror and he still tries to deny it. “I think you are mistaken.” He said, giving your shoulder a soft pat before joining Aragorn at one of the stalls.
“And what if you really were mistaken?” “I was not! Aragorn, I know that he has been staring at me not just those two times! He stares at me while I eat, while I talk, while I polish my gear, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was staring at me now.” The both of you turned towards the elven prince, who in fact was looking at you once more. “See? I would just want to know why he does it.” Aragorn let out a lough at your desperate sigh. “I am pretty sure that you will get your answer very soon.” And with that he stood up and left you alone.
After finishing up polishing your weapons, you decided to approach the elven prince once more to try and get answers to your questions. “Hey Legolas, can we maybe talk?” You asked him, while taking a seat beside him. “Of course, what is on your mind?” “I have noticed you were staring quite a lot at me. Is there a reason behind it?” A chuckle left his lips, as he grabbed your hand gently. Warmth spread over your cheeks at the soft touch. “I really enjoy watching you (Y/N). Not in an unsettling way! I just love to see you react to specific things. Or how your eyes shine when you find something you like at one of the stalls. Or how you just sometimes have that little jump in your step when you are really excited.”
Your face was red, as you nodded to each of the words that passed his lips. “I think your quirks are so interesting and so cute. You always catch me off guard.” A smile graced your lips, as you squeezed his hand. You didn’t know he felt so drawn towards you. “For example, right now. Your eyes are shining brighter than the stars above.” His finger graced your warm cheek, as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I want to get to know you more and understand you better with every passing day.” “I will only allow it, if you let me study you as well.” You answered boldly, earning you a laugh from Legolas. “Of course, Meleth Nin. Anything that your heart desires.”
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trippinsorrows · 4 months ago
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looking through your eyes + four
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authors note: hi! thank you so much for everyone who has left such kind words for this story! i'm so appreciative for the support and interest!
this one, i think, depicts a lot of contradicting thoughts and feelings for our two favorite characters. that's intentional.
i also take some creative liberties with medical and wrestling shit. let's just go with it, friends, por favor.
if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!
cw/tw: language, violence, sexual harassment, hints at past self-harm, allusions to past suicide attempt, references to traumatic pasts
song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes
words: 10k
Roman has spent years coming home to a dark, empty house. It’s been his preference for just as long, enjoying the isolation following day after day of shit that needs to be handled. Because that’s usually how shit plays out for him. Roman’s always calling the shots, always figuring out how to navigate difficult, sticky situations. 
It's just what he does.
It’s why he’s been able to advance the Bloodline as much as he has. Because Roman is a man playing professional chess among a group of elementary checker players.
And he’d never voice or admit it to anyone, but the weight does sometimes get to him in one way or another. So, he’s learned to appreciate solitude. 
But he’s not met with solitude upon entering his home, which is both surprising and irritating considering it’s pushing 2 o’clock in the morning.
The only sound he should hear is the sound of his heavy footsteps from the front door to the bedroom. Instead, his feet carry him into the source of said sounds that are more pots banging and dishes being washed.
That’s how he immediately knows who it is without needing to check. But, Roman is more curious as to why she’s in the damn kitchen at this time of night instead of sleeping than the noise itself.
And he goes to ask as such when he gets even closer and realizes there’s more to the sound than clanging pots and running water. A soft, melodic, almost soothing voice singing in a language he doesn’t understand but recognizes as Spanish. 
Solana is singing, and she’s singing well, beautiful even. So much so that he finds himself leaning against the wall closest to the kitchen, watching as she moves about, earbuds pressed in her ears making her oblivious to his presence.
There’s a sense of relaxation to her, an almost smile as she sings. She doesn’t seem nervous nor skittish….just at peace.
That is she turns around and realizes he's standing there, watching her.
She snatches her earbuds out and immediately jumps on the train of unnecessary apologies. “I’m sorry! I didn’t—-you said you’d be back late.”
He chuckles, calmly pointing out, “it’s almost 2am.”
Her face is flushed red with unnecessary embarrassment. “I thought—I guess I figured that meant you’d come back in the morning.”
“I sleep in my own bed, if I can help it.” It’s a comfort thing, a nod to his preference for solitude. He’s never even stayed the night with Samantha, mostly because he knows her ass would see that as a damn marriage proposal.
Well, maybe not anymore.
“Why are you still up?”
“I—I couldn’t sleep.” It’s a simple answer he’s certain also includes a very real, dark backstory as to why she can’t sleep. He’s been there.
He gets it.
“I’ll be done soon—"
“You can stay up as long as you want. I don’t care.” And it’s true. The house is big enough for her to be making as much noise as she needs, and he probably wouldn’t hear anything from where his room is. He also recognizes the misery that comes with wanting but not being able to sleep, so if being in the kitchen is her distraction, then he’s good with that.
Of course, she continues with the apologies. “I’m sorry about the music—I just—the house was too quiet. I—I don’t like the quiet.”
“Solana.” He has to interrupt her. Roman’s not in the mood for her apology tour. Granted, he does hone in on the part of not liking the quietness of the house. Of course she would be the opposite of him. “I don’t care. Do what you want. Shit doesn’t impact me.”
Roman can see she’s unsure of how to take his words, most likely wondering if there’s some catch, if it’s followed up with a stipulation. But, there is none. As long as it doesn’t impact him, she can do what she wants.
“You have a nice voice,” he compliments, because again, it’s the truth. He’d never taken her as the singing type, but gradually, Roman is starting to see there may be more to Solana than meets the eye. 
Her unsure expression remains unchanged with the exception of her blush deepening as she mumbles a quiet, “thank you.”
Compliments of any sort seem to bother her, or maybe it’s less they bother her and more she’s unsure of how to respond because she’s not used to them.
He’d lean more on the side of that being the case.
Nevertheless, Roman decides to leave her be. “I’m going to bed.”
“Okay,” she says almost sheepishly, adding a quiet, “goodnight.”
Roman takes her in, the quietness and passiveness no longer as irritating as he once thought and believed it to be. It might still irk him, but the level of irritation isn’t as high as it used to be.
Whatever that means.
“Goodnight, Solana….”
————
From day one of moving into Roman's mansion, Solana has noticed the watch dogs that occasionally patrol the premises along with the armed guards. And while she’s always been tempted to ask to pet one, she’s also always decided against it. These dogs, like their handlers, are trained killers, not emotional support animals.
They’re not there for her to treat like objects.
But it’s when she walks outside, ready to head off to work, that she notices one guard with a dog Solana hasn’t seen before, a puppy, that she finds it in her to approach. With a couple minutes to spare before she has to leave for work, interacting with a dog seems like a nice way to start off the day.
Hand on her purse strap, she shoves back her anxiety about approaching this strange man, asking in a soft voice, “i–is he new?”
The guard sizes her up and down, answering with a gruff, “yeah.” 
Solana looks down at the dog who’s also staring up at her with just as much curiosity. Smiling gently, she carefully crouches down and waits for him to move closer. There's a generous leeway of his leash that would allow him to do so. 
Sure enough, the dog walks over to her, ears down. Giggling, she cautiously moves to pet him. “You’re so sweet….” And he is. Solana wonders if he’ll retain that sweetness once he undergoes his training. Unlikely. “Good boy…”
“He’s not a fucking pet.” The guard harshly scolds, giving a tug on the leash that makes the dog start to growl. Solana frowns, recognizing he’s annoyed with her interruption.
“I’m sor—”
But before she can finish her sentence, there’s a flash before her that seems almost too quick for her vision to process. But, when she does, she realizes Roman is now present, directly in front of the guard, hand wrapped around his throat. 
“Speak to her like that again, and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out your mouth.” His voice is as menacing and terrifying as the fire in his eyes. Roman shoves the man forward and demands. “Apologize. Now.”
The man is coughing, struggling to regulate his breathing but still manages to cough up a muttered, “I’m sorry.”
Solana feels and probably looks stumped at hearing such a thing. She can’t recall the last time someone has ever uttered those words to her. Understandably, she doesn’t know how to respond or react. 
“Leave,” Roman demands. And Solana isn’t sure she’s seen a man haul off as quickly as he does, guiding the dog along with him. 
Roman takes in her appearance as she stands up, nervously brushing any invisible lint off her pants. “You good?”
She nods, still not quite knowing how to take this. How to take Roman seemingly defending her. Or maybe he’s just defending what belongs to him. It has to be the latter of the two, because why would he care about defending her?
Red-faced, she tries to explain her actions. “It—it was my fault. I just—I saw the dog, and I just—I wanted to pet it.”
“Why are you apologizing for someone being rude to you? Does that shit make sense to you?” When he says it like that, no, it doesn’t. But it’s clearly meant to be rhetorical, as he then asks, “you like dogs?”
Nodding, she clarifies. “Small dogs, mostly. Big ones, umm, they kinda scare me.” As do most things. This, she’s sure, he’s noticed by now. “Uhh—what time do you want dinner ready?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll be back late tonight.”
“Oh.” Solana is unsure why there’s a strange sense of disappointment in her belly at this. Late….
In her experience with her dad and brother, that usually means they won’t be back until the next day, most likely in the morning. 
This should make her feel a bit relieved, not having to be on edge, feeling worried about upsetting him. 
Even if the only thing regarding her that she’s seen upset him is when he perceives she’s being disrespected.
She’s not quite sure what to make of that either.
“Ayo, Lil’ Soso.” A new voice enters the conversation, one she’s gradually growing comfortable and used to. Jey walks out with a rubbermaid container in his hand, chewing obnoxiously as he approaches Solana and Roman. “What are these things? They’re pretty good.”
There’s a couple of things to process in that one interaction, starting with the nickname Jey has used to refer to her in the times she’s run into him in the house. The twins, along with Paul, seem to be at the mansion often. The interactions though, have allowed her to feel less tense around him. Around Jimmy too.
She hasn’t had enough interaction with Paul to feel that way about him, and she’s certain that won’t change. He seems only concerned with Roman and no one else, which is valid and fair considering his role as Roman’s chief advisor.
Going back to his question, she answers, “conchas.”
“Con what?”
His expression and delivery make her smile. “Conchas. It’s a Mexican pan dulce. Sweet bread.”
“I don’t know half of what you said, but this shit good as hell. You got any more?”
“Don’t you have fucking food at your house?” Solana would never show or admit to it, but it’s sometimes funny to her how Roman seems almost always annoyed with his eccentric cousins. There’s no doubt in her mind though that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill for them, that he’s probably done so. And vice versa.
But they also seem to get on his nerves just as much. 
“Man, Nicki on that shit again, talking about she ain’t cooking until I start treating her right. Me and the kids been eating out.”
Kids? That surprises her. She didn’t know Jey was a father. 
“Solana! When you train with Naomi, can you exchange some recipes with her or something?” Jimmy also joins in the conversation, walking over while rubbing his stomach. “Cause I don’t know what that meal was in the blue container, but shit slapped.”
It takes a minute for her to remember which one that was. She’s always been a bit meticulous about separating her meals accordingly. “Carnitas Huevos Rancheros.”
Jimmy hesitates. “Yeah sure, that.”
“Am I running a fucking food pantry?” It’s hard to tell if Roman is genuinely annoyed. Something tells her it’s that type of irritation he naturally gets with the twins but won’t actually do anything about. “It’s not her job to feed you idiots.”
“I don’t mind,” she offers, adding. “I–I like to cook.” And it’s the truth. It reminds Solana of her mom, of all the times she’d spend in the kitchen learning from and spending time with the one and only person on this planet who ever loved her. 
“See, Uce, she likes to cook,” Jey points out, wiping the crumbs off his fingers on his pants and tucking the now empty container under his arm. “I’ll just take this off your hands.”
Solana’s watch vibrating, reminding her that her shift starts in half an hour, is the perfect reminder that while this conversation is comical, it’s also interfering with her schedule. She’s also certain Solo is waiting patiently, or impatiently, by the SUV for her to jump in so they can get a move on. “I—I’ve gotta get to work, but I can have the food ready by tomorrow. I’ll just come home and cook after training.”
“If you feel like it,” Roman adds, and she knows better than to push back and tell him cooking is one of the few escapes she has. It’s become even more of an escape without the anxiety and pressure of her dad and brother demanding the food always be ready in sometimes unrealistic time frames and lashing out when that doesn’t happen.
To Roman’s credit, if he’s ever been annoyed with waiting a few extra minutes for meals, he’s done a perfect job not showing as such. 
She simply nods, acknowledging his stipulation, offering a quiet ‘bye’ as she jogs off to the SUV with Solo ready to escort her to work.
It’s when she’s gone that Jimmy walks up beside Roman. “Man, she can cook, she don’t got a smartass mouth, and she got a body? Shit, Uce, ain’t you glad I told you to go with her?” Roman doesn’t offer a reply, but he definitely gives Jimmy that look that lets his cousin know to get away from him. Roman’s always been big on personal space.
“Does she cook every night?” Jey comes up, asking with an almost level of excitement. “Shit, me and the kids finna start coming over here.”
“Shut up.” The hell they will. Roman is still adjusting to living with someone. The last thing he needs is his cousin and his spawns running around his place, making noise, breaking and touching shit. Not going to happen. “Is Paul already at the office?”
“Yeah. He’s got the updated figures for you to go over. And the RKO proposal was sent over as well for you to review.”
Nodding, Roman starts to create a mental agenda for tasks he needs to complete for the day. And it goes without saying that he’s forever impressed how his cousins are easily able to slide back and forth between professional bag and bumbling morons. 
It’s one of the reasons he keeps them around and as high up in command as they are.
“Good,” Roman acknowledges, sliding his sunglasses over his eyes. “Let’s go.”
————
“Hey!”
Naomi’s smile is just as bright and genuine as the first time Solana met her, and that’s something she doesn’t know how to take. A part of her figured Naomi was just being nice to her because Roman was around, because she was given an order, and no one defies the Tribal Chief’s orders.
And maybe she could even chalk this up to being an order as well, Roman tasking her with training Solana on how to fight, hence the continued kindness.
Regardless of the motivating factor, this woman is clearly a capable and trained fighter. A killer. 
Solana would do well to stay on her good side.
“It’s good to see you. We didn’t really get a chance to talk much, but obviously, I’m Naomi. Jimmy’s wife.” For some reason, Solana can see it. Can see these two together, even if she’s only been around both less than a handful of times. “I train a lot of the new recruits, mostly women, some men.”
“Men?”
Naomi chuckles. “That’s typically their reaction too. Right before I remind them who I am and what I can do.”
Solana isn’t sure she wants to know the answer to either of those. 
“Just out of curiosity, do you have any kind of combat training? Fighting knowledge in general?” It’s a valid question that only has one embarrassing answer. Solana guesses that Naomi picks up on this embarrassment, adding gently, “it’s okay if you don’t. It just gives me a baseline on where we should start.”
“No—I—I’ve never done anything like this before.” And she’s still not sure if she wants to, not sure what Roman thinks she will get from this. Him, along with everyone else around her, learned how to shoot a gun at the same time they learned how to walk. She doesn’t think she’s ever even held a gun. There’s no way humanly possible she could ever be even a fraction as good at this. 
And Roman has to know this.
So, why is he making me do it?
Again, either Naomi is insanely perceptive or Solana is much worse at hiding her emotions than she initially believed. 
She’d bet on the latter of the two.
“He doesn’t want you to be like us. He just—”
“He wants you to stop being so damn weak,” a new voice interjects. Solana recognizes the tall, intimidating woman from before when Roman had taken her to the Warehouse. She hadn’t had any direct interaction, but just the mere fact alone that she’d simply looked at Solana with disgust told her all she needed to know. “Wants you to grow a backbone.”
“Nia.” Naomi’s smile is dropped, traded for an intense stare. “Lay off her, okay? You heard what Roman said.”
“Oh yeah, we have to be nice to her.” Nia’s smile is mocking, her unimpressed gaze taking in Solana from head to toe. But Solana focuses on what Nia just said versus her judgmental countenance. Did Roman really tell them to be nice to her? Why? Why would he do that?
Nia walks over, crossing her arms over her body. “Well, here’s some kind advice, I can tell from one look at you that life hasn’t been very nice to you. But that doesn’t make you special.”
Naomi steps in. “Nia!”
“Bad shit happens to people all the time. At some point, you have to stop allowing yourself to be a victim.” If not for the fact that Solana knows Nia can’t stand her, she’d almost think Nia is offering what she believes to be genuine advice vs judging her. “You’re here. You survived it. Make that survival worth something.”
Naomi pushes Nia away from Solana, saying something to her that appears to be in defense of Solana, which she’d appreciate if not for the fact that she’s now in her head.
Nothing Nia said is inherently wrong. The world is undoubtedly both good and bad, perfect yet imperfect, wholly and incompletely balanced. These are all facts she’s well aware of, but what Nia doesn’t know or understand yet is that a person still being here doesn’t mean they survived. 
Solana is already broken.
There is no survival.
There’s just existence.
“Don’t listen to Nia,” Naomi advises. Looking around, Solana sees that at some point in her dissociation, Nia departed. Naomi continues with that same warm smile. “She can be a bitch sometimes, but she does mean well…..occasionally.” Hands on her hip, Naomi brings the attention back to the whole reason Solana is even at the Warehouse. “How about we just start with flexibility and mobility? Most of us are smaller than the men, and you definitely are, girl.”
Small……
That’s a word Solana has never thought to use to describe herself. 
“Being smaller means we can move around faster, can navigate around an attacker in a bit of a quicker way. But, you also have to be able to move in a way that’s lithe. Don’t worry. I gotchu, girl.”
They are reassuring words, words that Solana is grateful for, especially as they begin and she feels completely out of her element. Because she is. Solana isn’t the least bit lithe, and she’s certain her hand eye coordination is straight up shit.
But regardless of all that, Naomi remains kind, patient, and even makes conversation with her.
It doesn’t feel like she’s being made to do this, but more like something she gets to do. And Solana is grateful for that interaction, for the space to not feel like she’s burdening someone. That feels nice. So, so nice.
But equilibrium is a hard thing to achieve and even harder to maintain, so while one safe space is being created, another unsafe space is gradually forming in the midst of her oblivion.
Austin Theory and Grayson Waller, two upcoming, arrogant, fighters and wannabe heads have used the Warehouse for their training space for the past few months after finally proving and gaining access to the elite training grounds. 
And while the initiation and acceptance process was brutal and would ward most off from fucking up their membership status, Austin and Grayson have always been hardheaded, too blinded by their own hubris to recognize when they’re about to shoot themselves in the foot.
And shooting themselves is the least of their worries when Grayson is casually surveying the gym to see who’s present, his eyes landing on a woman in particular who catches his interest almost instantaneously. 
“Well, who do we have here?” Austin is confused initially, Grayson motioning across the way to where Solana completes her cooldown with Naomi. 
Immediately, Austin scoffs. “Since when does this place offer a weight watchers class?”
Chuckling, Grayson still pushes back. “Hers is in the right places though, mate,” Grayson again advises Austin to watch Solana as she happens to be leaning back, palms flat on the ground making her top hug against her chest.
Austin makes a face. “Decent.”
“Who is she?” Grayson asks again as Austin notices a semi-familiar face walking nearby.
“Melo.”
Carmelo shifts his Beats headphones so they’re no longer covering his ears. “Whassup?”
Austin subtly gestures to Solana, asking, “who is that?”
Carmelo follows the line of vision and almost immediately snatches his eyes back to the duo. “Yo. You fuckin’ crazy?” 
“What?”
Carmelo repeats himself, a sense of urgency in his voice. “Do you know who that is?”
“Pretty sure that’s what we just fucking asked you, dumbass,” Austin slaps him upside the head. “Now who is she?”
“Solana Miller. Well, Solana Reigns now, I guess.” Carmelo lowers his voice, as if speaking too loudly will attract too much attention. And he’s not entirely wrong. “Roman’s wife.”
Grayson makes a face, looking between Carmelo and Austin for elaboration. “Reigns got married? Bullshit. That bloke is the last man to ever walk down the aisle.”
“You two would do well getting your head from up your asses every once in a while. It’s a recent thing, but still a thing. So unless you want your insides literally ripped from out of you, it’d be best to leave her the fuck alone.”
Austin, the most smug of the two, is the first to protest. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those. Everyone makes Roman out to be this big bad who can’t be touched. He defends, what, once every six months?” Austin scoffs. The fear that the “Head of the Table” seems to have over everyone has never made sense to him. Sure, he’s heard things, even seen some things, but that’s always been because Roman called the shot. He’s not the one actually taking or making them. “Everyone knows he has his heron boys do his dirty work for him.”
“Plus, isn’t the guy pushing 40? What the fuck is he going to do?” Grayson laughs.
“Break his fucking hip trying to chase us.”
Carmelo shakes his head as the two dipshits laugh at their unfunny humor. “I’m telling ya’ll. Messing with her is a death wish. Plus, I heard she’s not even like that. That’s she’s like….shy and shit.”
If intended to ward the two off, it does the complete opposite. Theory smirks. “Those are always the freakiest.”
Carmelo backs away, lifting his hand in a surrender motion. “Can’t say I ain’t warn you. Dig your own graves.” With zero interest in having any part of what these two are clearly planning, Carmelo puts his headphones back over his ears and jogs off to start his training. 
And it’s a wise decision as Austin and Grayson, forever the patient predators stalking their prey wait for Naomi to walk off, time it well so that there’s an appropriate enough time for Solana to walk off to the showers, get clean, and walk out at the same time they happen to be lurking in the halls that lead to the locker rooms. 
That’s exactly how it plays out too, Solana looking down in her bag to grab her phone and text Solo that she’s done and ready to leave when a voice nearly knocks the wind out of her.
“Hi there.”
Solana gasps as loud as the sound of her back colliding with the brick wall behind her from how startled she is.
Instantly, she’s met with a set of cold blue eyes and wicked smile. “Solana, right?”
Breathing feels like it’s an optional thing, her hands still gripping the brick wall behind her. She can only nod her answer.
“Austin.” He then nods to the other man that Solana realizes is leaning back against the wall opposite her. The anxiety intensifies. “This is my buddy, Grayson. You must be new around here?”
Solana doesn’t want to speak, doesn't want to be near these two who have her practically cornered. But, she also doesn’t want to piss them off either. “Y—yeah.”
Austin’s eyes twinkle with nothing that seems good. “You really are shy, huh?”
“They make the best.” Grayson comments from his propped up position. Solana doesn’t allow herself to think too much about what he’s implying. She just wants to get the hell away from them. One look, and she knows they’re up to no good.
It makes her sick to her stomach.
The idea of walking past these two brings a visceral, physical response that has her mouth watering. She feels like she’s going to throw up, but she also knows she needs to get the hell away from them. “I—I have to go.” From where the next thing to come out her mouth stems from, she doesn’t know, but it’s blurted with all the nerves in her body. “R-Roman is waiting for me.”
He’s not. She actually has no idea where he is, but there’s a part of her that wonders if reminding them of who she is, who her husband is will make them back off.
“Of course,” the one with an accent speaks, motioning with his arm for her to leave. “Don’t want to keep the Chief waiting.”
The mockery in his tone unease her even more. Does he not realize just who Roman is? What he’s capable of. 
Regardless, the second Austin backs away a bit, she’s darting through the hall, trying to put as much distance between herself and the two men, but she’s not far enough to miss the ominous departing statement from Austin.
“See you around, Solana.”
Something tells her this won’t be the last time she runs into them, and it leaves a deep, disturbing feeling in the pit of her stomach.
This isn’t good. 
It’s not good at all. 
————
Dear Mom,
I’m still alive. 
That’s a good thing, I guess. Life with Roman has been….a strange experience. The most important thing is that he hasn’t hit me yet, but I’ve been trying really hard not to upset him or get on his bad side. I do my best to make sure all of his meals are ready and on time, which I guess helps. 
But to be honest……he kinda confuses me. 
He hasn’t been unkind, and I don’t think I’ve ever experienced him really yelling at me. Not like I’ve seen him yell and scream at others. So, that’s also good. It’s a bit of walking on eggshells, just waiting for him to snap and hit me, but not as much as I was thinking.
I don’t know….it hasn’t been as bad here as I thought it would be. For the most part, he just leaves me alone. We don’t even eat dinner together, which is fine, cause I can’t see why he’d want to spend time with me anyway. 
But, he confuses me because it feels like sometimes he’s defending me or something, which doesn’t make sense because why would he do that? That would mean he has to care to some extent, right? I keep trying to remind myself that it’s probably not me he’s defending but his pride and standing, because I think being mean or disrespecting me is like disrespecting him? I’m not sure, but it’s definitely a new experience.
I haven't spoken to or heard from Wes and dad. Roman made me get a new phone with a new number that I’m not sure either of them have. I don’t know if I want to think too much about how bad it’s going to be when I finally do see them again…..
Wes made it clear I was supposed to be keeping in contact with them, but that hasn’t happened. Truth be told, I try not to think about that. Think about the fact that I’m somehow supposed be figuring out a way to…..to kill Roman. I could never do that. I could never kill anyone. You know that, mama. 
Even more….I feel like Roman is growing on me, like maybe he’s not as bad as I thought, like maybe there’s more to him than meets the eye.
I think….I think that I could learn to like living here.
—------
“WarGames?”
To Solana, it’s a simple question, because it’s definitely not an everyday term. But that’s clearly not the case given the startled expressions on both Bayley and Naomi’s face.
It’s becoming something she is slowly starting to enjoy. Not necessarily the training part, but the socialization. It’s something Solana has been deeply deprived of over the years, so to have someone to talk to, someone who wants to talk to her means a lot. 
Even if it’s technically a job she was assigned by Roman, Naomi has never made her feel like their interactions are forced. 
Moreover, it was just in last week’s training session, Solana was thoroughly and pleasantly surprised to find out Bayley is also a member of the Warehouse and friends with Naomi, that reunion almost giving Solana a sense of giddiness. 
She’s wanted to reach out since the wedding but never followed through based upon her fear that she’d be bothering Bayley. 
Clearly, that’s not the case. 
Solana is certain she’ll never forget Bayley’s kindness on a day where she really needed to believe in something, believe that there is always at least one reason to keep breathing, to be alive.
But, it’s when Solana asks about this topic Naomi and Bayley were discussing that attracts confounded expressions. 
“You’re kidding right?” Bayley is the first to speak, glancing between herself and Naomi. “He didn’t tell you?”
Still confused, Solana presses, “tell me what?”
“I’m not surprised Roman didn’t, but someone definitely should have.” Naomi shakes her head, shifting into an explanation.. “War Games. It’s an annual match. Super big deal. It’s a show of strength and dominance for the Bloodline. Kinda hard to explain. You’ll just have to see for yourself.”
It sounds….intense. “I—I don’t think I’m invited.”
“Your hubby has clearly been a bachelor for way too long for him to realize that he has to tell you these things.” Bayley rolls her eyes but protests Solana’s belief that she would somehow not be invited to one of the Bloodline’s most important yearly events. “You’re definitely invited. As Roman’s wife, you have to be there. It would be seen as a sign of great disrespect to him if you didn’t.””
Disrespecting Roman…..never a good idea.
“When is it?”
Naomi seems to hesitate before answering. “Tomorrow night” And before Solana can panic at such short notice, Naomis is reassuring her that it will all work out. “Don’t worry. Bay and I will help you get ready.”
“Hell yeah.” Bayley already goes into strategizing mode. “I’ll handle your hair and makeup, and Naomi can find you a kickass dress.”
“Red, of course. That’s the only non-negotiable. Bloodline thing, ya know.” Solana figured as such. She also briefly wonders if that’s why Roman has been coming back home late the past few weeks, because he’s been training? “But, I will say we usually dress….well, like we’re going clubbing for these kinds of events, so it’s gonna be short, tight, and a tad bit revealing.”
That is something that gives Solana pause. None of those things scream appealing to her at all. She doesn’t have the body to dress like that. Not with the rolls, stretch marks, and scars that mar hers. 
“I—I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she finds it in herself to voice her opinion. A rarity. “I don’t—I don’t think I’d look good in something like that.”
Both Bayley and Naomi cast her confused expressions, Naomi being the first to speak. 
“Why?” Naomi presses, gesturing up and down. “Girl, you have a nice ass shape. You would fill out a bodycon dress nicely.”
Solana has a hard time digesting what Naomi is saying. She would look great in a dress like that. Naomi is both fit and curvy, the perfect amount of curves in the right places without unnecessary fat. Same for Bayley.
For Solana, the less skin she’s showing the better, though she wonders if the kind of attire they’re describing is some type of dress code, meaning there is no room to protest. 
The last thing she wants is for it to get back to Roman that she’s being “difficult.”
Defeated, she murmurs an ‘okay’ as the two of them engage in more conversation about this WarGames as well as fashion options. To be fair, they try to include her in, but Solana is too into her head about what this alleged night is as well as what it could include.
—---
Naomi wasn’t lying when she said that Solana would have to see WarGames for herself to understand it. That’s the absolute truth. 
It’s a spectacle, to say the least. 
For one, it’s a ton of people packed around the ring, the massive room where fights take place. The noise is boisterous, almost deafening, people drunk, swearing, placing bets, most of which are on the Bloodline.
And thankfully, Solana and Co. are seated in the upper area, a VIP box of sorts, away from the unruly crowd. She’s thankful for this for a lot of reasons, one of the biggest being the fact that she feels extremely uncomfortable in her dress. And just in general, but mostly with how much scarred skin is showing.
The dress is exactly as Naomi said it would be: short, red, and a bit revealing. Thankfully Naomi picked out a dress with a halter neckline that prevents any cleavage from showing, but there’s a split high up on the thigh that she finds herself trying to constantly adjust.
“You look great, Solana.” Bayley wears that same friendly, encouraging smile from Solana’s wedding day. “And I get that you’re self-conscious about your body, but I can guarantee these men would line up by the dozen for a chance to go home with you if not for your psycho-killer husband.”
Bayley playfully nudges her shoulder, and while Solana can emit a chuckle, she can’t bring herself to laugh. That line of men would be just as disappointed as she’s sure her psycho-killer husband was on their wedding night.
But, this isn’t the time and place for that.
“You look nice,” Solana compliments, partially a deflection technique but mostly the truth. Bayley, Naomi, and Nicki, who she met earlier that night and learned was Jey’s wife, all look exceptional in their numbers. Bayley is the only one not wearing red, for obvious reasons, but the jade green compliments her complexion well.
“We all look nice,” she says loud enough for the other two to hear.
Nicki opens her mouth to respond when the lights in the arena start to shift.  “Ugh. This bitch again.” Nicki’s scowl and expression of irritation draws Solana’s attention to the woman in the ring, who now has the spotlight on her, a woman she immediately recognizes as being there that night Roman woke her up from a nightmare.
The woman is tall, curvy in the right places, beautiful, bouncy curls cascading down her back. If she has a lot of makeup on, Solana can’t tell because it’s painfully obvious she’s been blessed with natural beauty. Everything about her is just so gorgeous.
At the time, she didn’t think anything of it, too caught in the haze of trauma. But now, curious and believing she can receive an answer, Solana asks, “who is she?”
“The most annoying person ever,” Nicki answers, taking a swig of her drink. In only knowing Nicki for less than an hour, Solana both does and doesn’t understand the compatibility between herself and Jey. They seem very much alike yet dissimilar. It makes sense why they fight as much as they do.
“That’s Samantha.” There’s no way to misinterpret the disgust in Nicki’s voice even as she pronounces Samantha’s name with undeniable distaste. “She does the announcements for events, but her daytime job is being a professional hooker.”
“Nicki!” Naomi shakes her head. “I think she’s a paralegal for a lawyer or something, but she’s mostly known as a pain in everyone’s ass. Always has been. Ever since we were in high school. She thinks because she’s light skinned with ‘good hair’ that she’s better than everybody.”
“Don’t forget about Roman,” Nicki chimes with her nose upturned. “She really thinks she’s hot shit though because she’s number one on his ‘I want my dick sucked’ list.”
This causes Solana to pause for a second. “What?”
She’s not stupid. Why else would this Samantha have been over at the house that late at night? And with Roman? Solana figured early on that if he isn’t getting any from her, then he has to be getting it from somewhere. Truthfully, even if their marriage did involve sex, she’s not sure he still wouldn’t find his way in between the legs of another woman.
But, there’s something about having it confirmed, hearing for herself that he gets around, that he clearly has a high sex drive that adds a whole new layer of insecurity.
She’s known from day one she could never be anyone he wanted or needed, and he expressed as such that day at the library, but this conversation makes it feel more…..real.
And she’s unsure why or just what makes this bring on a sense of sadness.
“Come on, I get you’re quiet and innocent and shit, but everyone knows that man is a hoe. If you’re black or black–ish with a vagina, fat ass, and big titties, he’ll fuck you. Cause none of them fools fuck with white girls.” She glances at Bayley, almost sympathetically. “No offense.”
“I’m Mexican.”
This serves as a brief, nice distraction for Solana. She suspected that Bayley wasn’t entirely white, but hearing that she’s Hispanic, Mexican, makes Solana feel a small slice of excitement. She makes a mental note to ask her if she speaks Spanish. 
Solana hasn’t been able to communicate in the language her mother made sure to teach her in secret given Xavier’s protest since her murder. So, the idea of being able to communicate with another person in that language makes her feel a bit excited. Maybe more than a bit.
Nicki is dismissive, though there’s a hint of humor there. Like she knows and is just messing with the other woman. “Sure you are, Bay.”
Bayley rolls her eyes and assures Solana. “Don’t listen to her.”
“Ya’ll, don’t lie to this girl.” Nicki seems dead set on stressing this point, and Solana can’t figure out if it comes from a good place, a drunk place, or somewhere in between the two of them. “If it wasn’t common knowledge he don’t fuck none of these bitches raw and makes most get on birth control, I’d tell you to not let that fool touch you with a ten foot pole.”
Bayley is watching Solana, sees the discomfort growing at this conversation and moves to change the conversation. “Why don’t we talk about you and Jey and why I literally saw him flirting with Sasha the other day?”
At that, Nicki drops her drink, cussing loudly, “man, fuck him! I don’t give a fuck about him or that bony heifer! I’ll beat the shit out both of them.”
“Nicki. Shut the fuck up. You may beat her ass, but you gon be right back to drunk spilling about how good Jey’s dick is when it’s all said and done.” Naomi dismisses, and something tells Solana she’s not wrong. Nicki and Jey seem to have a bit of a…..tumultuous relationship.
“I mean it this time!”
“Uh huh, sure sis.”
“And if you don’t give a fuck about him, why are you here?” Naomi challenges. 
All eyes on her, even Solana’s slightly curious gaze, Nicki falls back in her chair and mumbles, “cause that’s my man.”
Naomi and Bayley are a chorus of laughter and whooping and hollering, roasting Nicki for her contradictory statements.
Flashing blue lights illuminate the arena as everyone immediately moves to their feet followed by opening music that almost instantly brings chills up Solana’s arms. The lights then transition to a combination of red and blue, the sound of cheering intensifying as she redirects her focus back to where the first group entered. 
Solana’s eyes instantly, maybe even naturally, land on Roman. He stands first among the men, shirtless, ula fala around his neck, championship belt around his waist, a look of fierce determination and stoicism painted across his handsome face. 
And that body…..rippling muscles glistening under the heat of the lights.
It’s a strange and miserable experience. Feeling all of the sensations and attractions a human typically has to another human being but having an almost inability to act on them. It’s not that Solana isn’t attracted to Roman. She finds him to be sinfully attractive. The issue is that whenever she thinks about what physical acts take place when two people find each other attractive is when her head is swarmed with vivid memories and flashbacks of being violated in the worst way possible.
And the attraction is stumped by fear and trauma. Fear of being touched. Fear of being with anyone in that way. 
It’s like Roman said. He can get that from anyone, so why would he bother with her?
When he has someone like Samantha, prettier, smaller, easier, at his disposal?
It brings a wave of sadness over her that she’s grateful isn’t noticed by the other ladies who are focused on the start of the match.
And to her credit, Solana tries to pay attention, grateful and thankful for Naomi and Bayley occasionally pointing out certain aspects of how it works, why the two groups are separated, individual members from each side periodically being sent into the line of fire.
“Roman always goes last,” Naomi explains at one point.
“Save the best for last type shit,” Bayley adds, finishing off her beer and asking for another. 
“More like once he gets his ass in there, it’s a wrap. Everyone left getting smashed.” Solana believes this wholeheartedly. She’s just not sure if she wants to see that, see that side of him up close. 
It exists, obviously, but it’s hard to compare the killer she knows he is to the man he’s been to in the short duration of their marriage.
Almost….almost kind. 
The fighting, brutal and bloody, all occurs in the ring, but Solana constantly finds her gaze falling back to Roman. He remains seated, patiently or maybe impatiently waiting for his turn, never once ripping his gaze from the match. She sees Paul outside the cage, occasionally speaking to Roman, advising as he always does. 
Solana can tell he’s completely immersed, focusing solely on the match before him. 
And it’s when there’s some type of in-ring argument between the twins and the other member-in-training of sorts, Sami, she thinks Naomi called him, that she turns to the ladies. “What are they doing?”
“Sealing a death wish,” Nicki answers with a shake of her head. “Roman gon’ have all they asses for this.”
Naomi sighs loudly, advising Solana after the bickering results in one of the men from the other group getting the upper hand, landing a particularly brutal looking kick to Jey. “There’s been some….contention between Sami and the twins, mostly Jey, but Nicki isn’t entirely wrong. They should know better than to let that shit interfere with a match. Roman will most likely make them stay after and……yeah.”
Solana doesn’t need a detailed explanation. She has a good idea of what Roman making them pay will look like. It’s also not something she wants to see.
The match, in and of itself, despite the excitement and pure interest of everyone around her, isn’t necessarily something she wants to see. Solana has seen, been exposed, and experienced enough fighting violence to last her a lifetime. 
This is entertainment to them, but for her, it’s been her lived experience.
So, she doesn’t feel any sort of adrenaline rush watching grown men beat the crap out of each other, blood, sweat, and bruised, battered bodies putting themselves through hell. It gives her some relief to see that the Bloodline, for the most part, remains with the upperhand. Even with their in-house argument earlier in the fight. 
But, it’s when the timer that ends with another man joining the brawl moves to a ten second countdown that her interest grows a bit more. It grows a bit because Roman is finally about to enter the ring.
She watches him, has mostly just watched him this entire time. He’s just as unbothered as he was the minute he walked in. Adjusting his gloves while Paul clearly tries to bestow some last minute wisdom before he makes his entrance.
It feels a bit redundant. She’s certain this man doesn’t need anyone helping him with anything.
And as soon as the timer winds down to zero, Roman gradually making his way to the ring, Solana knows she was right. Knows he doesn’t need help, because he’s been studying and planning for the past almost 45 minutes. Strategizing.
It shows the minute the men, all 10 of them go at it. It’s hard to keep track of all of the mayhem, fists flying, kicks landing in areas that are sure to require a couple days to recover. But, it’s Roman who still manages to catch and hold Solana’s attention. He moves with such precision and accuracy, blows every bit as barbarous and violent as his reputation warrants.
There’s a small part of her that experiences something she can’t quite label or understand when he takes a hit, especially when a member of the other team manages to catch Roman off guard, sending him into the table, the weight of him snapping it in half.
At that, she nervously starts to move her fingers up and down the side of her dress. But, Roman, while clearly impacted from the blow by the blood starting to stream down the back of his arm only seems further enraged. Like being attacked has somehow refueled him, recharged his already pre-existing rage.
“They are in trouble now….” Naomi murmurs, shaking her head, as if she knows what’s about to come. “Roman hates getting hit, and they made him bleed too?”
It’s the blood part, maybe, that bothers Solana. It’s silly given who he is and the fact that he’s clearly holding his own just fine, but Solana wonders why he doesn’t or can’t have that tended to. It has to hurt.
But, then again, it all hurts, so maybe the pain just numbs itself out.
And maybe Roman is clearly caught up and consumed in adrenaline, in the mad rush of the battle, because it seems from the table slam on out, no one is touching him. He’s all over the place, strong blows resulting in grown men crying out in pain. She’s certain those closer to the actual ring can hear the sound of bones crunching, an inevitable thing given the abnormal distortion of limbs she sees on the other team.
He yells and taunts his opponents, one by one, laying them out with the somewhat assistance of the rest of the men. Truth be told, Roman could have probably tagged out the other four men and handled the other team all on his own. 
He’s just that effective.
And when there’s only one man standing, barely, Roman moves to the other side of the ring, face turned up in rage, watching and waiting for the perfect moment for him to dart across, laughing into a spear so forceful that it knocks the man unconscious instantly, guaranteeing an instant, easy pin.
The crowd erupts in cheers, Roman’s music sounding as Samantha formally announces the Bloodline as the winners.
There’s a strange sense of relief that Solana has at that, at the fact that this is all over, that the fighting is done. That Roman is done, because her mind keeps going toward the fact that he probably needs some level of medical attention and when said attention is going to happen.  
But while she expects the Bloodline to start their exit, she’s instead met with security dragging the unconscious bodies of the losing team outside of the ring.
“What’s happening?” Solana asks Bayley, realizing that the women are starting to pack up to head out. “Isn’t—isn’t it over?”
“For us, yes.” Her eyes set on the twins, Solo, and Sami. “For them, it’s just beginning.” Solana reflects back on their in-ring argument and Naomi’s foreshadowing about this happening, about this punishment.
And one glance at Roman, his hulking shoulders lifting and lowering with his heavy panting. His eyes are flaming with a fury he clearly intends to take out on his team.
“Come on.” Naomi draws Solana’s attention. “I’ll ride home with you, cause Solo ain’t gon be free no time soon.”
None of them will.
Solana recognizes this and agrees, but it’s not without a sense of disappointment at not leaving with Roman.
And that confuses her. It confuses her a lot.
She didn’t arrive with him, so why would she leave with him?
More importantly, why does she care that she’s not leaving with him?
—----------
“I–I can do that for you.”
There are some things meant to be thought and some things meant to be said. This is one of those things that should have stayed in Solana’s head instead of rolling off her tongue the way it does. 
She was only supposed to ask him if he wanted her to make anything in particular for breakfast tomorrow, not offer to freaking suture stitches for him.
Well, that’s not entirely true, because as it’s almost damn midnight, she could and should at least be in bed trying to sleep. She’s been home for almost two hours, showered, changed into her oversized shirt and sweats. 
She shouldn’t even be standing before him, but there was some type of unease she had at trying to fall asleep without making sure he made it home, without seeing to it that he tended to any injuries he sustained tonight.
Solana almost feels like that’s what she should do, like she should make sure she’s available to assist him with anything he may need. Like it’s just another thing that could keep him from directing his anger from earlier towards her. 
And it’s slightly less stressful for her in knowing that he’s more likely to harshly dismiss her, maybe even chastise her for unintentionally implying he’s somehow incapable. However, instead of a rebuff, he simply looks at her, asking, “you know how?”
Solana doesn’t know why, but she takes this as a sign that he’s accepting her offer. Walking over to where he sits at the kitchen island, she sees he already has the supplies laid out. “I—I’ve had a lot of experience.”
Some of it from patching up her dad and brother but most of it from patching up herself over the years, from watching and learning from her mother tend to her wounds after sustaining beatings from Xavier. “My mom was also a nurse. She—she taught me a lot.” Like the proper way to suture. “Did—did you already disinfect?”
Solana is slightly nervous when he says no. That means she’s the one that’s going to have to inflict that brief but potent burning pain.
Lovely.
Nonetheless, she readies the cloth, holding it over the cut before warning, “this—this might sting.”
“I don’t care.” And she believes it. Seeing him in the ring tonight, his prowess, his brutality, she’s not sure if anything could hurt him.
Solana proceeds to clean and disinfect the area before grabbing the sutures to start stitching him back up.
Roman suddenly asks her. “Did you want to go into the medical field?” Roman recalls from the file he read on her that she never pursued any higher education beyond high school, something else he marked against her at the time. Education and knowledge have always been important to him.
But meeting her and slowly learning more about her backstory, he wonders if that was of her own choosing, hence his asking.
Solana, meanwhile, can’t figure out why he’s even talking to her in the first place. He seemed, justifiably, annoyed with and not wanting to be bothered with any and everyone post match. Now he’s asking her questions about things she hasn’t thought about in years. 
Still, she answers with the truth. “I—I wanted to be a nurse. Like my mom.” 
This doesn’t surprise Roman as he follows up with, “why didn’t you?”
A lot of reasons. Many of which she has very little desire to share, not that she could or would even want to ever voice as such to the man sitting in front of her. 
That’d be an instant death wish.
“My—my father. He, umm, didn’t want me to leave home.” It’s a version of the truth, the unabridged version being he didn’t want her to leave home because he wouldn’t be able to control her if she did so.
And Solana has a feeling that she doesn’t need to share all that, that Roman already knows this.
“Why didn’t you just leave?” Roman’s delivery, like most of the time, is insensitive. But, he genuinely wants to know. For what reason did she stay there all those years, in a house of horrors instead of just leaving and never looking back?
It’s a fair, simple question with a complex, layered answer that she greatly simplifies. 
“I tried. It—it never worked out.” And it’s when Roman hears the sudden sadness in her voice, sees the way her eyes temporarily shift to her inner forearms, horizontal faded scars that he’s just now able to see from how close she is to him that he gets it.
He realizes that she tried in more ways than one, none of them being successful.
And in a truly coincidental way, Solana notices he’s also cut on the back of his bicep. It’s also in her being so close to him that she realizes underneath the intricacies of the tribal tattoos on his forearm, there are scars. Burn scars, nothing severe, but visible enough for her to notice. 
It makes her wonder about where he got them, how he got them, not that she’d ever have enough bravery to ask.
She instead clears her throat and gestures to the cut. “Do–do you want me to do that one too?”
It takes a second for Roman to think about what she’s asking. “Is it deep enough?”
Without thinking about it, she brings her hand to finger to lightly feel the cut that was clearly poorly and in a rush patched up post fight. Nodding, she explains, “it’s deeper than about 1/4th an inch, so yeah, I—you should let me.” And in realizing she’s touching him, like she isn’t doing the same thing while suturing, she snatches her hand back, apologizing quietly.
He doesn’t think he’s ever had a woman apologize for touching him.
“Okay.” 
And that’s it, he doesn’t protest, doesn’t chastise her for making it seem like he doesn’t know or understand injuries. He just allows her to work on him, Solana doing her best to ignore the fact that he’s so close to her, his big, strong body, even while seated, overwhelming her. 
But while this would typically cause Solana to go into panic mode, being so close to a half dressed man, she doesn’t feel that with Roman. She doesn’t feel anything at all. No anxiety, no fear, just some nameless emotion that doesn’t evoke her typical nervous responses.
“Okay.” Finishing up, Solana moves to clean up the supplies, discarding what is no longer usable. “Just….don’t get it wet for next few hours, and apply the ointment as needed, but—I’m sure you know all this already.” She feels silly for speaking to him as if he hasn’t patched himself up or been stitched up countless time before. “I’m gonna—I’m gonna go to bed now.”
Not wanting to risk embarrassing herself further, she turns on the heel of her foot and starts walking off, only to stop when he calls for her. 
“Solana.”
She turns around, and Roman is briefly caught up in how she presses her lips together, trying to suppress a frown. She thinks she’s done something wrong.
One more sweep of her frame from bottom to top, remembering the stunning complement and contrast of the red dress against her complexion. He compliments, “you looked beautiful tonight.”
She looks absolutely taken back by what is an obvious statement. Taken back and confused. “M—me?” She’s pointing to herself, brows arching together. And for a second, there’s a small hint of a growing smile as she asks, as if he could have made a mistake. “Really?”
He didn’t.
Roman doesn’t make mistakes
Solana has a lot of things fucked up about her, but one thing not a damn person can deny is that she’s absolutely gorgeous with a body to match. That’s just a fact, why he felt the need to express said fact is a bit beyond him, but Roman doesn’t allow himself to think too much about it. It’s not a sentimental thing at all, just a plain fact being stated, if anything.
“Thank you,” she finally says as he notices the reddening of her cheeks. “Umm, good night.” Solana’s hand is on the banister, her finger squeezing tighter than the coils in her stomach. “Roman?”
It would be a hell of a lot easier if he would have just ignored her, but he doesn’t. His gaze snaps up to her from the phone now in his hand.
The same hand she witnessed just tonight pummel grown men, just as muscular and intimidating as he is to a bloody pulp. The same hand that could easily take her life, could have her clinging onto life with just one beating. And that’s all she can see at the thought of telling him about Grayson and Theory messing with her, that it’s now happened twice, they’ve caught her off guard and alone, sexually harassing her. 
Nia’s words from the other day return to the front of her mind.
“He wants you to stop being so weak.”
He’ll blame her. He’ll blame her the same way her father blamed her for what they did to her. He’ll blame her for being so weak. That’s what Solana knows will happen. Knows he’ll say she was leading them on, that she must have done something to garner their interest in her. And he’ll be angry.
He’ll be angry at her.
And nothing good ever comes out of Roman Reigns being angry.
She’s seen it for herself firsthand tonight.
Determine to find a way to deal with this on her own, she shakes her head, “nothing. S–sorry.” She’s turned back to the steps when he says her name this time. His tone clear and authoritative.
She jumps, immediately turning back around to face him. He’s now standing near the steps where she stands, halfway between rescue and ridicule.
Something flashes in his gaze at her obvious nervousness, but he quickly refocuses on the topic at hand. “You have something to say, so say it.”
A deep layer of regret and anxiety settles in at the realization that there is no lying to Roman. He’s adroitly skilled in reading between the lines and seeing through bullshit. Or maybe she’s just that bad at lying.
Hopefully not the latter because another lie is about to roll right out.
“I was just—I was gonna sleep in tomorrow, but I have to make your breakfast, so I’ll just—”
“You don’t have to do anything, Solana.” 
Roman knows she’s lying. Knows she just pulled that out of her ass instead of sharing whatever it is she initially wanted to say. It’s probably something stupid too, something he won’t give two shits about, but something she thinks he gives two shits about. And he’d push her if not for the fact he can tell she’s getting all nervous and shit on him again. The last thing he needs is her having another panic attack. 
“Sleep in,” he directs. This is a conversation, much to his chagrin, that will have to take part in sections. And it’s too late in the evening to hash out one of those sections. And to be fair, there is a part of him that recognizes she probably does feel like she needs to be up at the ass crack of dawn like him to have his first meal of the day ready to go. And his lunch. And his dinner.
Granted, Roman can’t and won’t complain about all of it, because the girl can cook her ass off.
But, it’s not necessary.
He’s more than capable of taking care of himself.
He’s done so since he was 10 years old.
“Thank you.” She does that thing again where she smiles like he’s just told her she’s won the lottery or been given the cure to world hunger. It’s the simplest things that seem to make her happy. Considering the bar has already been set so low, it makes a bit of sense.
It makes a lot of sense.
“Goodnight.”
Roman is certain she’s intentional in the way she turns on the heel of her foot to move up the stairs, putting as much distance between the two of them to avoid a follow up question. Her avoidance behavior is a bit impressive, irksome, but still impressive, nonetheless.
And it would be remiss of Roman to not sneak a peak of her retreating form moving up the steps, his eyes glued to the sway of her ass, again remembering that short, red dress that momentarily distracted him when he laid eyes on her at the match.
Roman would never deny his physical attraction to her. That’s just a fact. She’s shaped in a way that makes his dick hard at the thought of having that body underneath his, writhing, begging for him to not stop fucking her in all the ways he would if he could.
But, that’s a fantasy. It’s a fantasy because the reality is that he can’t even touch this girl without her freaking out on him, something that would annoy him greatly if he didn’t realize there’s a reason behind her jumpiness.
Something that’s beyond just her shitty father and brother. 
Roman doesn’t allow himself to travel down that path, to see what it might lead to because just the thought of what might be the reason she doesn’t like being touched has his fist forming at his side, nostrils flared, and anger brewing at an accelerated pace that doesn’t make sense.
It also doesn’t make sense when he grabs his phone, navigating to the desired thread, sending a text he doesn’t think much about.
Roman: Get me a list of dog breeders. Small dogs. Preferably local. We can travel if necessary.
Paul: Sir?
Roman: Just do it.
Paul: I’ll have it to you by tomorrow morning.
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hearts4golbach · 5 months ago
Note
hii
can you do tyler x fem reader and tyler takes her out on a date and when they get back it gets a little smutty if you know what i mean 😈😈
Pretty Girl.
pairing:
Tyler (Hansumfella) x Fem!Reader.
warnings:
unprotected sex (use protection), riding, 18+ smut :p.
a/n:
im sorry this is kind of lame. I had zero clue what to write for the actual date, so I hope you enjoy it!
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Tyler held your hand as you walked into the restaurant. it was your first date, but the two of you had always had something special. friends and family had always pointed it out, and it was just recently whenever Tyler had finally acted on it.
"im really glad I'm here with you, Tyler." you mentioned, nudging his shoulder gently before sitting down across from him.
his bright smile made your heart skip a beat. "You know, I've wanted to go on a date for a while now." he seemed serious but always had his joking atmosphere. he was amazing at keeping things from being awkward.
"Me too. It took you long enough to ask." he hummed and took a sip of his water. "So, how's the kitty? it's been a minute since I've been over."
"My son is great. you know he's fucking pissing and shitting everywhere, but he's getting better at going in his little box.
you kept the conversation going from there, learning more about him whenever you thought you knew more.
having dinner with Tyler was peaceful. it went much better than you were expecting, not that you were expecting it to go negatively.
he invited you back to his house to watch a movie. of course, you accepted. it wasn't out of the ordinary for Tyker to invite you over to watch a movie or stream with him.
His apartment was dark. nobody was home.
"my sister isn't here right now," he mentioned, flipping on the dim light in the kitchen. we were greeted by squash immediately.
"hi, squash! I've missed you, baby!" you squeeled, kneeling down to pet the cat.
Tyler smiled, watching as you pet squash. "Well, I'm sure he missed you, too."
you walked into the living room and made yourself comfy on the couch. Squash went off somewhere else. Tyler sat close to you, so your thighs were touching. he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and you leaned your head on his as he turned on a movie.
the first few minutes of the movie were spent in silence. you scooted closer to him and looked up at him. "you okay?"
"yeah, just thinkin'" he shrugged.
"bout what?" You moved a curl out of his face.
he pressed his lips onto yours gently. you kissed him back passionately. your lips glided together gently. as the kiss depended, he moved you into his lap. you could feel his hard cock through his sweat pants.
"you sure this is okay?" he asked, his thumb caressing your hip.
you nodded. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this." You began to kiss along his neck.
he grunted as you sucked and bit on his neck. he grinded your hips down onto him. "fucking hell, get these clothes off."
you did as he said, slipping your shirt off. his hands felt like heaven on your bare skin. in return, you took his shirt off and tossed it to the side along with your own.
his fingers hooked into the waistband of your sweats. he lifted you up and helped you slide them off your body before pulling you onto him again.
his thumb teased the hem of your underwear. "fuck, please."
he hummed, his other thumb tugging at your lower lip. "yeah? do you need me that bad?" his deep voice was like music to your ears. you nodded eagerly.
his hand slid down into your panties, finding it's way to your clit. you bit your lip and huffed as he slowly circled your clit. his middle finger ran through your folds, teasing your needy hole.
"shit," you muttered under your breath. he hummed before pressing his lips against yours again.
your hands made their way down his bare torso and to his sweats. you untied them and began to pull them down. you lifted yourself up, and he helped you pull them down to around his knees.
his cock was aching for you. you spit on your hand and gently stroked his member. Tyker bucked up into your hand as a soft grunt escaped his lips.
you leaned forward and pecked his lips. he smirked into the kiss as his hands found their say to your hips. you lifted yourself up and aligned his tip with your entrance.
"you okay?" he asked, his breath shaky.
you hummed, "more than okay." your lip twitched into a smile as you slowly sat on his cock.
he grunted as your warmth was tight around his dick. "fuck, you feel so good."
you hummed once more as you fully sat on his dick. you let out a moan, resting your head on his shoulder as you adjusted to his size.
your hands slid up his chest and cupped one side of his face as you began to bounce slowly. you moaned as you felt him stretch you out.
"shit, you feel even better." you replied, attempting to catch your breath. your thighs began to burn as you sped up your pace.
one hand moved up to your chest. Tyler massaged your tit gently as you rode him. his grunts turned you on even more, fueling you to take him further.
you sped up your pace further. your eyes rolled back in your head as you whimpered. his hand met the back of your neck and he pulled you in to kiss him again. his tongue slid inside of your mouth as you continued to ride him at a quick speed.
his thumb went to circle your clit. "you look so fucking pretty." he began to buck his hips up. "my pretty girl." he choked out.
your moans grew louder, filling the room along with the sounds of Tyler's grunts. "fuck, 'm so close." you mumbled against his lips. you kissed him passionately, moaning into his mouth.
his hands moved to your hips, guiding you to go faster. your eyes fluttered shut as you felt the knot in your stomach snap. your walls spasmed around his dick. he helped you ride out your high and watched as your juices mixed together. he pulled out and came on your stomach.
he quickly cleaned you up. "shit," he giggled. you adored his smile.
you hummed, "I know."
"I think that means you're my girlfriend now." he joked as he led you back to his room.
"God, I fucking hope so."
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georgiapeach30513 · 6 months ago
Text
How I'm Looking At You, Part 1
Summary: You were long considered a spinster. Your family was desperate for money, and you were their only option. Sending you to work for a newcomer who was not part of the Amish community was risky, and it brought forth the gossip. Ari didn't seem to care what others thought about him, but he did care what they thought about you. Making your innocent crush and close proximity a bit more...harder. But can you convince him and yourself that the feelings are worth it? But what if it is just a crush? Do you even care anymore? Or are you ready to risk it all and leave the community?
Pairings: Ari Levinson X Reader
Rating: mild
Warnings:  gossip, questioning religious teachings, language, sexual tension, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 4.1K
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
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Ari takes a deep breath as he looks around. A whole lot of nothing. Land as far as the eye can see, neighbors weren’t close. He is in over his head. It was a great deal, and it made sense at the time, but now that he has sweat dripping down his face, blisters on his fingers, and more sun on his neck that his mom would deem necessary he realizes this was just a dumb idea.
The outside of the homestead is one thing, but the inside is unkempt and a complete disaster. He didn’t even know where to begin. Overwhelming didn’t even seem a strong enough word to describe the mess he is in. It is getting lonely out here, and the farmhands he hired aren’t helping much on the home or the kind of loneliness he feels. Life out here is different.
“I don’t think you’re gonna make it,” Jacob, one of the more vocal boys that Ari hired. Ari didn’t need anything that this life could bring him. In fact everyone here would probably shit themselves if they knew how much he is worth. Sometimes you just need an escape from the city life. “You look like you’re gonna melt away.”
“I’m thinking,” Ari gruffs out. The outside is fine. It is looking great, and the only reason he is even out here helping is his doctor told him stress was going to kill him. How is this not stressful?
“What’re you thinking about?”
“What do you know about keeping a house?” The young man stares at Ari awkwardly before looking at the other two men confused. They shuffle around nervously, looking down at the tilled land, “Did I say something?”
“I don’t think you understand the roles here,” Ari shrugs his shoulders, and the two boys that he couldn’t be bothered to learn their name since they didn’t talk to him before return back to their work.
“Care to enlighten me?”
“I don’t think what I’m suggesting will happen,” Ari squirts as he looks at the vastness of the land. He’d take any suggestion at this point, or whatever he had to offer.
“I don’t need suggestions, I asked to be enlightened.”
Jacob points to himself, but starts scratching his head after, “We don’t do housework. That’s for the women.”
“So I should find a woman to hire for the house,” the other boys start to chuckle, but remain working. “I think I missed something.”
“It won’t help,” Jacob shrugs his shoulders, as he grabs up his tool.
“Why?”
“If you think you’re going to get a married woman in a single English man’s home, you’re crazy. If you think you’re going to get an unmarried woman in a single English man’s home, you’re insane. Nobody would ever let their wife or their daughter in your home.”
Ari closes his eyes slowly. This way of life is confusing for him. He doesn’t want to tie a woman up in his bed and have his way with her, well — no, he wants help for his home. “Why wouldn’t they?”
“Have you looked at yourself? You’re like a man from the forbidden books. You bring out lustful thoughts in a woman. How are they to remain pure when there’s an English man that embodies everything they’re not supposed to have?”
“I don’t know how to use my stove though,” Jacob shrugs his shoulders. He didn’t see how any man would let a woman in his life ever be in Ari’s home. Especially not alone. “If I were to try, where would one go look for a woman that is unwed and needs a job?” The other boys laugh again, but Jacob points out into the distance.
“There’s only one person I can think of. A family that only had one daughter, no sons. They’re…well, they could use some charity. Their farm is quite small,” Ari hears one of the boys whistle, and chooses to ignore them. “She works at the general store.”
It isn’t the most ideal place to look, but it is the only one for now. What is the worst they could say? No. “You boys got this here?” All three give him a nod, there is so much nodding with everyone here, and he starts walking to his truck. He wasn’t going to go the horse drawn carriage route with transportation. And this isn’t a flashy truck. Old and rusty, and now he had a bit more hope of finding help for the inside of his farm. Maybe.
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You can hear the giggles from the front of the general store. It was always about you, and they never tried to hide the way that they giggled and carried on about you. You weren’t supposed to gossip, and yet they always did about you. You were told you were too old to wed, and you weren’t a man and couldn’t help your father on the farm. And you weren’t the most demure because you spoke to everyone, and no matter what you did it was never right. And everyone wanted to point it out.
All you can bear to do is hold your head up high and try not to let the giggles and the random sound of your name off their sinning mouths to not affect you. Unfortunately it did every time, deep into your heart. You didn’t have friends, except the people that come into your store, and it made you long for something besides loneliness.
You wished you would have taken off long ago, but your parents didn’t deserve that. You had dreams of getting married young and having lots of little boys to help your father out. Had told your parents you could do the labor, but they felt you were better suited here. So hear you stay constantly hearing the drone of pious women being anything but that.
It is all politics and a game, and you quite frankly were sick of it. Sick of the constant need to be perfect as a human when it was literally impossible. So instead you pretend as if this is the life that you wanted. Living in a modern world, but acting as if you’re in the past. If anyone knew about your thoughts on wanting to break free, you’d be shunned, and you just couldn’t afford that.
It isn’t too often that you hear a rumble of an old Ford truck nearby, or the slamming of a door, or the fact that the giggling stops, and you see a gaggle of young women start to waddle away from the general store. And you can’t help but think, good riddance. The fact that they wanted to linger here while they whispered and giggled about your life that didn’t interfere with theirs is cruel. You always had to be the peak of perfection, while they were marking off the commandments like it was their job.
Booming footsteps isn’t unusual. What is unusual is the man that walks through the general store door, and you have a combination of looking too long and needing to look away immediately. Your eyes dart to his face, and then the countertop. Studying him and the wood grain in equal amounts.
Noticing the sticky sheen on his skin, and the random droplets of sweat dragging down his neck. Noticing his hair damp with said sweat, and still looking so fluffy. He walks over to a cooler, and pulls out a bottle of soda. Doesn’t bother to pay for it first, just pops the top, and leans his head back. His Adam’s apple moves with every gulp, and you know you look too long because his dark blue eyes shift towards you, and he winks.
Looking down at the counter, heat courses up your neck. Swirling around your ears, and your throat tightens. You need water. Even alcohol at this point. You had stolen a few sips before, and always heard it helps in situations such as these. Something is happening to your body that you just can’t explain, and you can’t even glance at him anymore.
“Ma’am?”
“Mhmm,” your response comes out whispered and pitiful, and you’re still unable to meet his gaze. A sudden urge to sit down, and let your body curl into itself pops up, and you need an exit. Air. Air would be really nice right now.
“I want to pay for the soda, but also a few more. My hired hands would like a treat,” why did the word hands sound so — delicious? Does that even make sense?
“Sure,” your body goes on autopilot as you start to ring him up. Still not daring to look at him. You’d crack, you just know it. You would be a puddle on the floor if you even tried. “Are you new?” How that sentence was even able to come out of your mouth is a mystery. Your throat is so dry and in need of rehydration immediately.
“Yeah. I bought the old Yoder farm, right at the edge of the town,” of course he did. The most coveted of farms, and even that is a sin. Too big of a farm for a single man. Did he mean to convert? Or was it too good of a purchase to not make the investment?
“That’s actually why I’m here. Darling, you think you can look at me?” Oh. Hearing a name usually saved for your parents to use for you, sounds very different from his silky voice. Your eyes shift up to look at him, and he’s even more handsome close up. You shouldn’t be worried about someone’s appearance, but he also should have his buttons done up a bit more. Too much of his gloriously tanned rippling chest is showing. He is all man. And the butterflies that erupt in your stomach makes you recall the gossipers’ talk of you being alone forever.
Those girls would not fare well if the elders knew what they were doing. But seeing this man, and his beard wet with soda, and the heavy feeling in your unseen areas, makes you quickly ask the heaven’s for forgiveness. You didn’t ask for that feeling though, it just happened. Your body is reacting to the way he looks and that close proximity to him.
“Why are you here?”
“I have hired hands for the outside, but the home itself — well it has much left to be desired. I don’t know what I’m doing in an Amish home,” you nod your head, a giddy smirk tickling the edge of your mouth, and he returns the smile. It’s a struggle to continue to look at him with how attractive you find him when he smiles. He’s handsome. Very handsome, “Yeah, I don’t know how to keep an Amish home. So this is very different.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” you didn’t. You didn’t know at all what he was referring to. English people can be so tricky with their words. No need in trying to sway a thought, just be blatantly honest about what you need.
“Well, I hired some boys to take care of the outside. I was needing to hire a woman for the home,” oh. Your sight goes back to the counter, and you shake your head no. “I didn’t even proposition you.”
“Sir, I don’t know if you are aware of our culture, but that would be — no woman should be alone with you,” it is true. It wouldn’t matter if she was married or not, it would be highly frowned upon. He didn’t know what he was asking. But even you being here in this general store, alone with him would be frowned upon. You wondered. “But some of our men are a bit more relaxed than others.”
“Is your husband?”
“I’m not married.”
“So could I hire you? I’d pay double of whatever you’re making here,” tempting. Sinful. And you want it. You wouldn’t have to listen to the gossip of those girls. Gossip would happen, you know it would. But you wouldn’t have to hear it. That sounds lovely. And you could become a ‘fulfilled Amish woman’ because you were keeping up a household. You wouldn’t be a complete failure.
“You’d have to ask my father for permission.”
“Are you not grown?”
Now it’s time for your overly sweet smile. If only he knew how there is a huge part of you that is ready to run away from this life. You are grown, and the fact you are telling another grown human that he had to ask your father for permission is obnoxious. “You truly don’t understand. I will need his permission to be alone in a man’s home. Appeal to his better nature. But yes, I would very much like to be out of here.”
And you want to be around him more. Like a rope that had wrapped around you and was going to jerk you into his thick broad chest. You would very much like that. Maybe a bit too much. You shouldn’t desire and lust after this man, but he is not grown like the boys here.
“So if I talk to your father, and he agrees…”
“What’s your name?”
“Ari Levinson,” my goodness. You need to repent for your body’s misbehavior. But for right now you’re trying not to melt away.
“Yes, Mr. Levinson. I would like to keep your house up.”
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“So here’s the kitchen,” you smile kindly as you take everything in. The house is just a bit more grand than most in the area. The land is plentiful. The Yoders’ were a bit more modern, which is why they didn’t do well in this more traditional area.
“And, I really don’t need to explain this all to you, do I?”
“Not particularly,” you answer. Your eyes take in everything. Almost envisioning what a real English home would look like. Peeking into the sitting room, and going back to his really tall and thick stature. Having to look quickly away from him because he is staring too intently at you.
“What time are you wanting me to start working? Are you desiring breakfast?” That was an odd choice of words that you’re using. Desire is something you have been feeling lately, and you don’t fully understand the feelings. Or whatever is happening to your body, you just know that you enjoy looking at him. “Or lunch? Or dinner?”
“All three would be appreciative, but not a requirement,” you give him a head nod, starting to open up cabinets. You cringe. This isn’t how you were taught, but you can’t help it. He was in dire need of assistance, you see. “I apologize, Darling. Maybe I can give you some money, and you furnish the kitchen properly?”
“I would need to.”
“You do whatever you need, Darling. You just tell me what you need me to do,” he keeps using that name with you. You never feel this way when your parents call you that. This weird knot in your stomach that twists and twists, and your breathing isn’t normal. You’re just standing here staring at this man, and that is all.
“Is everything okay? Did I say something? I’m not good at this?”
“No, the um…I’d need to go into town,” shuffling your feet around you try to look at him, and try to ignore the burning in your throat, and between your thighs? What even is this?
“Okay,” that’s all he has to say. And you can’t end it there for several reasons. One of which is because you don’t want him to go. “Darling, you’re going to have to talk to me. I can tell there’s something you need.”
“Town is a few miles away,” he nods. Still not understanding what you’re needing. Did you even understand? “And you need a lot,” he blinks owlishly at you, and you try to swallow a completely dry mouth, “I don’t have a way to get there and bring everything back.”
“Oh, of course. I’m sorry, Darling,” that name again. You almost want to start counting how many times he uses it a day. His hand touches your shoulder as he steps past you to grab his keys, and you inadvertently bite your lip. “Can you ride in the truck? Is that allowed? Do I have to get a horse and buggy?”
“A truck is fine,” your voice is so breathless as you follow him towards the outside. Ready to head towards town, and hopefully to get everything you would need.
“I’ve got to tell the boys I’ll be leaving. You go on, and get in the truck,” walking outside with your eyes focused downward, you walk towards his truck. Trying not to look at the boys from the church, but they are most definitely looking at you.
Staring so intently they don’t notice Ari walking right up to them, and Jacob looks too long for Ari’s comfort, “What’s she doing here?”
“I took your advice. She’ll be keeping the house up.”
“Like a wife?” Jacob removes his hat, continuing to stare at you casually getting in his truck. Your eyes are still downcast, and your unmoving face still looking straight ahead and not at the boys. “So her parents agreed to this, and she’s just getting in your car.”
“I just met her and you’re talking about wives. No, I’m taking her to town to get the things she’ll need here. You boys continue to do the work, and I’ll return,” he nods to each of them, and they all gawk as he walks towards the truck, and you give them one solid glance, and they return to their work. Not making it too obvious that they are looking at you.
Opening the truck door, you watch as his thick body hops in. Looking at his legs, and how thick they look sitting down, and you weave your fingers together. Looking down at your own lap when Ari looks towards you, “You seem uncomfortable.”
“They are watching us, Mr. Levinson.”
“Should you not be in the truck with me? And please, call me Ari.”
“You’ll find out soon enough that for a community that teaches against gossiping, they will truly gossip. Carry on,” getting out of the sight of the farm, you feel comfortable enough to sit up. The gossip will always happen, you just learned to accept that. Continuing to glance at him, and you can’t stop. It’s unexplainable, but you aren’t the only one.
His dark blue orbs find a way to look towards you, and even smirks, “Do you only ever wear the dress and bonnet?”
“Just when I’m awake. Why?”
“Is it comfortable?” Not really. But it could be worse.
“It’s not uncomfortable,” you can’t truly be honest. So you feel.
“I see. But you don’t particularly enjoy it,” at least he understood what you meant. “So the women here, they’re job is to learn to keep a house, and then you marry off and do just that?”
“Yes,” it makes it sound so simple, and you almost want to curse what a quaint life you live. You weren’t given the opportunity to have dreams or want more. The dream was to marry, have kids, have your own home. You even wonder if your desires to marry was because you were told that’s what you did.
“Hmm,” he contemplates, paying attention to the road even though he’s more interested in your thoughts on this topic. You didn’t seem to have the same goals as the other people here.
“It’s not a horrible life.”
“I guess not.”
“It has its perks,” you argue. “It’s beautiful out here. We have the ability to ignore the noise that everyone else surrounds themselves in. I might not have the luxury of having my own dreams, but being a wife and mother, and keeping a house up is an honorable life,” it was, if not boring in ways. You never had the chance to explore something more.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t. But you’re not married. Is there a reason?” You turn to look at him. Actually, look. Had there been a man in the community that looked like him, you might have considered it. This is just silly because now you’re being someone who judges another based on looks. “You don’t have to answer.”
“My father isn’t like most,” you have a good father. Older than most of the ones who had children your age. “I think a part of him didn’t want to see me unhappy. I had a few interested for my hand in marriage, but I didn’t want them, and he didn’t make me Mary them.”
“Why didn’t you want them?”
“It’s easy for men here to get away with their indiscretions. And I don’t want to marry out of duty, or have to bear children with a man I can’t stand to look at. That’s what they all want. Just a wife and her to birth his last name.”
“You mean sex. It’s what most men want.”
“Sex?” You look at him confused, shaking your head, “No, I mean children. Extending your legacy,” Ari chuckles, giving you a devious smile, and your chest constricts. “What?”
“Do you know what sex is?”
“I…I assure you that we’ve been talking too much,” you gulp, wishing that you could arrive in town faster. You aren’t sure what he’s talking about, but you are sure that you feel like you’re going to combust. There is a thickness in the cab that you can’t explain. A fiery pain that settles below your stomach, and…other places.
“So you don’t?”
“Ari, is this an appropriate conversation?”
“I’m assuming that it’s not, judging by your reaction, but I am now curious. Do you know how bearing children comes to happen?”
“I live on a farm, I’m well aware of how breeding works,” he snorts, and you turn to face him quickly, “What is so funny?”
“That you’re referring to it as breeding. I suppose that’s true, but with humans it can be so much more.”
“What does that mean?” The truck drifts to the side of the dirt road, and your thumbs twiddle nervously. The air becomes even thicker when he leans in closer to you. “Ari?”
“I’ll take it easy on you this time,” what does that even mean? Putting the truck into park, he faces you. “Has anyone, man or woman just made everything in your belly float around? Like there’s this weirdness inside of you, pricking your skin whenever they’re around, and your throat dries up, and you can’t talk, and…”
“Your belly feels empty like you need something to fill something inside of you,” Ari clears his throat, looking down at your lap, watching as your thighs twitch around.
“Yes. Exactly like you need to be filled with something.”
“I feel — have felt that way,” you agree, trying not to let him know that it is in fact him making you feel that way. “But it doesn’t always seem pleasant when the animals mate.”
“I assure you if a man knows what he’s doing it can be very pleasurable to you,” a noise you have never heard before squeaks out of your mouth, and you look down at your lap again. Heat didn’t even describe what you are feeling. A roaring fire or volcano getting ready to erupt, and the need to go to the bathroom to clean yourself is more accurate. What is going on with your body?
“If he knows what he’s doing he can take you to another plane of existence,” Ari has been in this odd town for a few weeks, and not so much as glanced at a woman since. Judging by your reaction you are understanding exactly what he is talking about. He adjusts his pants, turning back to look straight ahead. He is also getting uncomfortable, but not because of you. His uncomfort is himself. Hopefully for the same reasons you appear to wiggle around too much.
“The way he could make you feel without ever — entering your body. It's a pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. Learning another person’s body can be fun. It can be paradise.”
“Should we be having this conversation?”
“Probably not. So maybe we keep it to ourselves, and I’ll buy you something besides that dress to wear?” The ideas he has mulling in his mind of what he could put you in, he’s downright ashamed of.
“I could only wear them inside your house.”
“I was only wanting you to wear them for me anyways, Darling,” fuck. He’s fucking fucked. A quick flash of you submissively getting to your knees as he paints your lips with precum comes to his mind. Your mouth slowly opens as you innocently let his cock breach your lips. Looking so pretty as you stare up at him. Fuck.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
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suuuupernovaaa · 4 months ago
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Hello ! May I ask for a Neteyam x Metkaniya reader, daughter of Ronal and Tonowari, and they hate each other so much the entire clan k’ows them for their arguments, and there is kinda a annual celebration but no one wants to dance with her due to her temper and being the oldest terrifying daughter of the Tsahik and Olo’eyktan. So Neteyam go ask her for a dance, to the surprise of everyone himself first ?
Bonus points if you could add their families reactions :)
Yes! And for anyone wanting to read, I wrote this for Ao’nung a while ago.
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Honestly, I had never been much of a dancer. I learned the dances with the other kids when I was young, and learned how to play the drums and sing our songs, but something about the steps just didn’t connect for me.
I always ended up feeling awkward and self-conscious on the dance floor, and that was a feeling I didn’t tolerate well. Since childhood, I’d made it my goal to excel at everything I tried, so failing at this one thing made me want to avoid it at all costs.
Once a year, however, there was a giant solstice celebration that I was always unable to avoid. No one missed the feast and the dancing, especially the chief’s eldest daughter.
So there I stood, on the edge of the dance floor, waiting for the night to end.
There was another element to the dancing that I was not fond of: men did not approach me. Not on the beach, not in the surf, not anywhere, and especially not to ask for a dance.
My temper was to blame, I was sure, paired with being the daughter of the chief. The combination made me unapproachable, my sister informed me constantly, and his arrival had not helped. Something about the eldest Sully got under my skin immediately upon his arrival to our home.
Neteyam.
Just his name made me want to roll my eyes. I’d been more angry, irritable and unapproachable since he’d joined us. It was so hard to place my finger on what, exactly, bothered me… unless I truly wanted to be honest with myself.
But that was hard.
If I was going to crack open that truth and take a hard look, I’d have to deal with the fact that when I met him, he was the first man I’d ever found myself truly interested in, and the fact that he seemed to find me as insufferable as all the rest of the men here not only angered me, but it hurt deeply.
I had never wanted anyone to like me before, and the fact that he didn’t cut like a knife.
The night was drawing to a close and I was considering leaving early. No one had so much as glanced my way all evening, and the scowl on my face wasn’t helping.
My mother and father, perched and observing, weren’t looking at me - and I knew this would be my only chance to escape. I turned to leave quietly, but someone cleared their throat ahead of me.
Neteyam.
For once, I tried not to frown as he stood before me. With great effort, I softened my gaze.
Did he have to be so handsome? With such a bright smile, and kind disposition? Would it kill him to be a little ugly and rude?
He extended a hand to me, and I gazed at him with wide eyes.
“Dance?” he asked simply, and without a word, I put my hand in his and let him lead me to the crowded dance floor.
He took both my hands into his, and pulled me close. “I am not a very good dancer,” I admitted, suddenly very nervous to be on display this way.
Heads were turning, eyes prying, and I felt exposed.
Neteyam just shrugged, a small grin on his face. “That’s okay. I don’t know your dances.”
We began to move, and I tried to lead the steps, but it had been so long, and I’d never cared to learn them well.
After a few unsuccessful beats, Neteyam took the lead from me, pushing and pulling and spinning me around in a dance I did not know.
As he spun me away from him, then pulled me back to his chest, a laugh escaped my throat. I felt lighter. It felt so nice, so unbelievably nice, to be around him and not be arguing.
He beamed down at me with pride in his eyes. “You lied. You’re a great dancer.”
A blush threatened to creep across my cheeks as I grinned at him. “You’re just a good partner.”
He twirled us around, stepping backwards and then left, and wrapped his arm around my waist. Leaning in, he spoke into my ear, “You are the most beautiful woman here.”
My heart began thudding and my tongue went dry. Where was this coming from? Didn’t Neteyam hate me, like they all did?
I stared up at him curiously. “But you don’t like me,” I replied.
He frowned. “I liked you from the moment I saw you. I just didn’t know how to tell you, and then you started fighting with me all the time.”
“Oh,” I said flatly.
It was defensiveness, I knew. I had assumed Neteyam would not be interested, and so I made it clear that I myself wasn’t interested before he could reject me. A snide comment here, a disapproving glance there, and I had all but tried to make him my enemy.
I wrapped my hand around his neck, pulling him down close to me. “I’m sorry. I like you, too, from the day you arrived. I just don’t know how to show it.”
He smiled, his nose mere inches from mine. “We will work on it together.”
xx
“Holy shit,” Jake muttered under his breath for only his wife to hear, and she turned her head to follow his gaze.
On the dance floor, their eldest son was locked in a tight embrace with the chief’s eldest daughter, big grins on both their faces.
“I thought they hated each other,” Tonowari said, standing up to join the Sully parents.
“Me too,” Jake said, chuckling.
Neytiri and Ronal shared a glance. “The line between love and hate is quite thin,” Neytiri shared.
“And our daughter is not a simple girl who wears her feelings for all to see. It took your son long enough to notice how she felt.”
The fathers, dumbfounded, exchanged a glance at each other, before all four turned their attention back to their children, just in time to see them slip away from the dance floor, hand in hand.
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mxlti-fand0m-imaginess · 11 months ago
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Teach Me // Ethan Landry*
request: Fem!reader guiding inexperienced!ethan on how to make her feel good in bed
prompts: none!
summary: ethan and you haven’t ever gone farther than kissing before. when he tells you that he’s finally ready, you’re shocked that the only thing he wants to do it learn how to make you feel good.
warnings: smut, language, cunnilingus, fingering, virgin!ethan, slight dom/sub undertones
word count: 1.2k
a/n: fem!reader, no ghostface au, i feel like this is a little awkward but im also very over critical about my writing so idk
join my taglist!
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“You sure you’re ready? You seem a bit nervous, and I don’t wanna push you into anything that you don’t wanna do,” you said, your eyes looking down into Ethan’s as you sat upon his lap.
Ethan nodded, smiling nervously up at you. “Yeah, I- I’m ready. I want to do this, believe me. It’s just…” Ethan trailed off, his face flushing red.
“It’s just what?” you asked, gently prompting Ethan to finish his sentence.
“I’ve never done anything like this before. Like at all.”
His face was red with embarrassment, and he stared at the sheets underneath him, too ashamed to meet your eyes. You just smiled sweetly and gently tilted his head up before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, which only made Ethan blush harder.
“I know, baby. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
Ethan’s eyes practically bugged out of his head as your words. “You- you knew? H-how did you know?”
“Well you’ve said that this was your first relationship and that I was your first kiss, so I just kinda assumed. But really, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I mean, everyone was a virgin at some point.”
Ethan nodded, his nerves starting to subside at your kind words. No matter how anxious or freaked out he was, you could always manage to help him calm down. Make him feel better. And right now was no different. Just your presence alone was calming, and being with you made him feel safe.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” Ethan smiled softly, leaning into your touch when you placed your hand on his cheek.
“So, you’re okay? We can continue?” you asked, a teasing smile growing on your face as you leaned in closer to him.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Keep going,” Ethan said, his breath hitching as you trailed your hands down his chest.
You reached down, your fingers grasping his belt as you started to pull it off. Ethan’s eyes followed your every movement, not wanting to miss a second. When you reached forward to unzip his pants, Ethan’s hand reached out to stop you.
“Wait!”
You pulled away, looking up at him with eyes full of concern. “Is something wrong? We can stop if you want to.”
Ethan shook his head. “No! No, it’s not that. I just- I was wondering if I could make you feel good first?”
Your eyes widened in surprise. Most guys you’ve been with in the past only cared about their own pleasure, wanting you to make them feel good without giving a shit about your own pleasure. But here was Ethan, who’d never even been touched by someone before, seeming so desperate to make you feel good before even starting with him. You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face.
“Oh. Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure. If that’s what you want.”
Ethan nodded, an eager smile on his face, “More than anything.”
You got off of Ethan’s lap, leaning back against the pillows beside him on your bed. Ethan moved to kneel in between your legs, and you slipped off your shirt before relaxing into the mattress. Ethan’s hands hovered above your hips, his fingers twitching impatiently.
“You can touch me, baby. Don’t be shy.”
At your words, Ethan reached forward and slid your pajama shorts down, looking up at you for confirmation that this was what you wanted. You nodded, smiling down at him and running your fingers through his hair. Ethan shuddered at the feeling, practically melting beneath your touch. He brought his hands back up to your hips, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly pulling them off your body.
You shivered at the sudden cold air against your dripping core. Ethan’s eyes widened as his gaze was fixated on your pussy. He felt his cock twitch just from looking at you.
“How do I- what am I supposed to do?” Ethan asked, looking back up at you.
“Well, do you want to use your fingers or your mouth?”
You could practically see the way Ethan’s eyes lit up at the mention of using his mouth on you. He looked dazed, his eyes glossed over, as he lowered himself down to lay on his stomach, his mouth directly in front of your soaking pussy.
You smile down at him, your fingers still running through his hair. “Well, I guess that answers that, huh?”
“What do I- how do I do it?” Ethan asked, his eyes trained on you, with a sense of desperation in them that made your arousal grow even more.
“How about you just try it, and then I’ll help you if you do anything wrong? Okay?”
Ethan nodded eagerly, his hands pressing against your inner thighs to keep your legs parted as he leaned in closer. He hesitantly licked a stripe through your folds, your breath hitched at the feeling. Almost instantly, Ethan managed to get find your clit, his lips wrapped around it as he sucked on it gently, causing your grip in his hair to tighten as you let out a soft moan.
“You- you looked up how to do this, didn’t you?” you asked, trying to tease him with your words, but your breathlessness from his movements made the sarcastic bite die on your tongue.
“Maybe a little… I just wanted to be good for you,” Ethan said, before diving back in between your thighs.
“Oh, fuck!” you moaned out, your back arching as Ethan slid two fingers inside of your dripping hole. “Always- fuck! Always so good for me, baby.”
Ethan continued to lap at your clit while his fingers searched for that spot that makes you see stars. Your thighs clenched around his head as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his fingers continually prodding your g-spot as he started sucking on your clit once more.
“Holy- fuck! I- I’m gonna cum! Fuck, don’t stop baby! I- I’m gonna-,” your words were cut off by a loud moan falling from your lips as your high crashed over you.
Your thighs quivered and your hand loosened its grip in Ethan’s hair as you sunk deeper into your mattress, pleasure and euphoria filling your being. Ethan didn’t stop his movements, his tongue continuing to lap at your cunt, wanting to savor every last drop of your release.
“Ethan… E, please,” you whimpered, gently trying to pull him away, the overstimulation starting to get to you.
Reluctantly, Ethan sat up again, his chin dripping in a mixture of your juices and his saliva. He wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand and smiled at you sheepishly.
“Sorry. Did I do something wrong?” he asked, his voice shaking slightly with nerves.
You shook your head and smiled sweetly. “No. No, baby. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was just too much.”
He smiled widely, leaning forward to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his lips, which made your stomach tingle and you felt yourself starting to grow aroused again.
“So I did good, then?” Ethan asked after pulling away.
“You did amazing, baby. You sure this was your first time?”
Ethan laughed softly at your words. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”
“Well then. Guess you didn’t need me to teach you as much as you thought you would.”
He smiled awkwardly, your words flustering him. “M-maybe a few more lessons wouldn’t hurt.”
tags: @nowitsmissing @hyeyulove @abbyluvsjackchampion @mariaflor873
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moosesarecute · 4 months ago
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Part 4: The Shadows Sing
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
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Azriel had spent the last week trying to figure out the most he could about living in The Middle.
He did research about different kinds of species, but he could not find anything about yellow bugs that made you pass out.
He also spent some time just observing the life of the female.
He learned her routine and the faces of the people she worked with.
What annoyed him, was the fact that he still didn’t know for sure if he actually had seen her surrounded by shadows.
Shadowsingers were rare, he knew that, but he still had a small hope that the female would be like him. They would have something to connect over. Because he really wanted to get to know her.
It took a week before he had time and enough knowledge to make a move.
He used his shadows to shadow walked directly into the cabin the female lived in.
“Friends!” His shadows cheered, but he couldn’t see anything. But he knew that either the female, or the shadows themselves, could have hidden the shadows in plain sight.
He knew she had started on the walk towards the cabin. He also knew that if she walked, it would take 15 minutes, maybe 10 if she was really fast.
So when the female opened the door to the cabin after only two minutes, Azriel knew for sure she had more magic in her than what she let out.
“You won’t believe it,” she sang as she danced through the door. “I won three fights! I have food for like 4 days!”
Azriel didn’t want to admit it, but he found her quite adorable. And so did his shadows.
“Pretty eyes! Cute!” They said as they tried to get out of Azriel’s grip and move towards the female.
He almost wanted to just stay still and observe her, with her cute dance moves and singing, but he knew he had to get the upper hand.
“Who are you talking to?” He asked with a raised brow.
Talking to an empty room seems like a sign that she had someone in her home she usually would speak to. Shadows for example.
The female dropped the bread and oatmeal she was holding. She started to back out of the cabin.
Azriel used his shadows to block the door. There was no way out, unless she decided to use her powers.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered. She straightened her back and pushed back her shoulders. She tried to be seen as strong and not scared, but Azriel could basically smell her fear.
Her sent, Azriel had decided, was a mix of pines and night air, but now it had a sour tinge.
An other obvious sign of her fear, was the fact that she was shaking from top to toe.
“You come into your cabin, obviously talking to someone, but there isn’t anyone here,” Azriel started to speak. He walked from one side of the small room to the other. “You also traveled a distance that would take 10 minutes to run, in less than 5 minutes.”
“What’s your point?” She asked. She tried to act unfazed, but Azriel saw straight through it. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I think you’re powerful,” he answered. “I think you’re like me.”
He then let loose his shadows.
They surrounded the female and tried to play with her hair.
She waved her hands and tried to get them to stop.
But Azriel didn’t miss the way her eyes almost doubled in size and how she tightened her jaw, fighting hard for it to not open.
He also didn’t miss how she started to fickle with her fingers to prevent his seeing her hands shake much worse than before.
What was going on?
Azriel pulled his shadows away from the female and waited for her to answer.
“I don’t know you who think I am, but you’re obviously mistaken.” She said and tried to look annoyed. But her voice was now shaking too.
“I saw you use them last time we met,” he argued.
He tried his best not to look too intimidating, while still being a little scary. He couldn’t just trust her, even though his every instinct told him that he should.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered. Her fear started to turn into anger. “And I don’t appreciate that you have been spying on me like an obsessed stalker.”
“I’m not obsessed,” he answered. “I’m curious.”
She didn’t answer for quite some time. She stood still and looked directly at him. Azriel raised his eyebrow once more. He would have loved to know what was going through her head.
“If I give you five minutes,” she started. “Five minutes to ask me the questions you have. And then you’ll leave me alone. Deal?”
Azriel felt his stomach twist. He had scared the female so much that she’d be willing to make a bargain with him to get him away.
Usually, that would be an ideal situation for him. He wouldn’t need to use any time consuming or dangerous tools to get the information.
However, with this female it felt so wrong. Her scared gaze made him want to throw up. He saw her shake and he wanted her to hold her until it stopped.
What was going on? He didn’t even know her name for cauldron’s sake!
“I have five minutes to ask you questions and you will respond truthfully. Then I’ll leave you alone if you want me to,” he told her.
“It’s a deal,” she answered.
The second they agreed, they both got a matching bargain tattoo on their forearm. It was abstract, but definitely looked like a shadow.
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“What’s your name?” Azriel started.
They had taken seats with the table. Azriel sat on the tree stump acting like a chair and the female sat on the table.
“Y/N,” she answered.
Azriel felt shivers going through his spine. The name fit her.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Azriel.”
When he first heard the two twins talk about her name, he had felt a connection to it.
If was perfect.
“How old are you?” He continued.
“It’s that a little mean to ask a lady?” She asked back. Now it was her time to raise an eyebrow.
Azriel just sat and waited for an answer.
“I’ll be 70 soon,” she answered.
That surprised Azriel a little. She looked older, felt wiser. It was like she already had centuries of experience, even though she wasn’t even a century old.
“What was that bug that bit me?”
She gave out a small laugh.
“You actually don’t know?” Y/N asked. Azriel shook his head. She let out a sigh. “It was a Gelbbug. They live around here in the winter. Their bites usually only give people an itch, but around 1% of the time, the female bugs bites are lethal. It’s around the earlier stages of their pregnancies. One bite and you’d be dead within minutes.”
“So you saved my life?” He asked. He felt confused. Why would a female he’s never met before, safe his life? Especially after he had lot her a naga and apparently some money.
“Yeah,” she answered. “I suppose I did.”
Her eyes met his. Azriel felt time stop. It was just like it had been in all his dreams. Her sparkling bright eyes looked directly into his. Everything felt alright in the world for just that moment.
“I’ll ask the rest another day,” Azriel then said with a smug smile.
“What are you talking about?” She asked. “We just made a bargain. Five minutes and then you’d be gone!”
Azriel just shook his head.
“I have five minutes to ask questions, that was the deal,” he explained. “I one spent one minute asking questions. It’s not my fault you spent so long time answering them.”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“See you later,” he said and disappeared.
He was sure he heard the words “fucking prick” before he left.
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@i-have-a-thing-for-the-dark @saltedcoffeescotch
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winniethewife · 3 months ago
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I laugh like me again, she laughs like you (Moon Knight System x F!reader)
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Warnings: Presumed!dead character, Reader romantically involved with Jake, Marc and Steven are featured, Mother!reader, Single mom, Angst,
Words: 634
She would never expected to have to do this alone. Just as she thought she wouldn’t do many other things alone. Witnessing her Daughters first steps, Her daughters first doctors appointment, the first time she got really sick, the first time she made a friend, her first move, all the way to London. She wasn’t expecting to be alone for her child’s first…everything. And now as she drives down the street she looks at the little girl with dark curls and brown eyes sitting in her booster seat as she looked out the window eagerly.
“Celesia?” She called her daughter’s name and the little girl looked over at her, the gaze in the rearview mirror reminded her so much of the girl’s father.
~
Jake Lockley was a rascal, but he loved her, and for some reason she loved him back. Despite the complications, Despite Marc living his life how he wished, taking her Jake wherever that was, with whoever that was. She had managed to form a friendship with Marc, which didn’t make it any easier, because she started to care a whole lot, a bad habit of hers. At some point they moved in together, a lovely thing to have with Jake, an interesting time with Marc. So when Marc teamed up with Bushman, she had advised against it. It seemed like a really bad idea, it wasn’t that she just wanted to keep Jake with her, it wasn’t the fact that she would have to find another roommate, she was genuinely worried about Marc. So of course when Marc had already been too stubborn and had shipped off, It was time to get a positive pregnancy test, because the universe finds that shit funny.
~
“Yes Mommy?” Her daughter’s voice brought her back to the present.
“You ready for your first day at school?” She asked, trying to sound excited. The little girl nodded enthusiastically, giving her mom two thumbs up. Which she glanced in the mirror. “Remember baby, I can’t look at you when I’m driving so I need you to use your words.” She reminded the eager five year old.
“Right, Sorry Mommy. I am really excited! I can’t wait to make friends and learn things and-” The young girl continued to ramble, causing her mother to smile warmly. So many things reminded her of Jake, and Marc.
~
She sat tears streaming down her face as she read over the letter, all that was found of Marc Spector was some of his belongings in a bloodied temple in egypt, presumed dead, and seeing as everyone else on the expedition was dead that was a good assumption. But she was three months pregnant and currently trying to figure out what the hell she was going to do without her best friend and the father of her baby who, unfortunately in this case, inhabit the same body. She wasn’t sure how the hell she was supposed to do all this alone. Where to even start. But she didn’t have a choice now.
~
The whole day she kept checking her phone during work, just in case she missed a call from the school or a message from Celesia’s teacher, but there was nothing. At the end of the day she rushed to pick her up from school, and then they went to the store after. As the two of them puzzled over which kind of sweets to buy that week, she was surprised when a man ran into her.
“Oh, Sorry! That was entirely my fault there. So sorry.” The voice was too familiar, wrong accent, right voice.
“Jake?” She turned to look at the man, messy head of curls, Dark Brown eyes. The man looked confused. “Marc?’ She asked, maybe too hopeful.
“Sorry, Er I’m Steven, With a V.”
~
Masterlist
Taglist; : @silvernight-m @queerponcho @boredzillenial
A/N: Middle of the night angst? Happens more often than you think.
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gemini-sensei · 5 months ago
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Popular!Reader who is new to the school and is lowkey obsessed with either nerdy Eli or Miyagi Demetri and Yasmine DESPISES it but she can't leave Reader because... idk maybe she's related to one of them or something 😭
Eli or Dem is convinced its a joke of some kind and says something awful (against Miguels begging to consider that Reader might just like nerds) and omg sorry I love angst ♡
I love angst too, no worries.
Reader being Yasmine's cousin who moves to town and starts obsessing/crushing on a nerd would irk Yasmine to no end. Every time she catches Reader staring at the boys, she would say something along the lines of "omg I can't believe you, they're so uncool" and "get a grip, there are so much better guys around here." But Reader won't listen. She's sure she's found the best guy in the Valley no matter what her cousin says.
When she approaches shy!Eli and starts chatting him up, he has no idea what to do. He barely says a word and lets her do all the talking. He just stands there and listens because how is this happening right now? Is this really happening? He's not dreaming, is he?
She'll even sit with him in classes they have together, working with him every chance she gets. It's super cute. But when it comes to lunch, she sits with Yasmine and her friends. They're constantly talking and laughing, mostly because Yasmine finds it fun to laugh at people but Reader isn't so sure about the things she's saying about them. Yasmine just tuts and tells her, "You'll learn the rules of this school eventually."
Eli convinces himself that Reader isn't actually into him. He can't stand the idea that she's faking nice to him, it's somehow worse than the outright bullying he's faced all his life. While talking to his friends about it, Miguel tries to tell him that he's overthinking it because Reader seems so genuine and nice, but Demetri is there to counter every point he has, his biggest argument being "She's friends with Yasmine, the pretty, popular Queen of Mean." It doesn't help Eli with thinking Reader is actually nice and really into him.
So, thinking she's trying to make some kind of joke out of him, he thinks he should say something to her. He'd rather be shoved into a locker and called names as opposed to someone pretending to like him just to get a few laughs out of her friends.
The next time he sees her, she's a little flirty with a big smile on her face. He can't deny she's beautiful, but unlike Demetri, that isn't enough for Eli. He can't take this anymore.
She smiles at him so pretty and starts talking. "Hey, Eli! So, I was thinking about how the science fair is coming up. Since Mr. Palmer said we could get extra credit if we enter, I was hoping you could help me with my project. Just you and me-"
"L-look, just leave me alone!" he cuts her off.
The outburst is surprising to both of them. He can't believe he actually stood up to her while she's shocked by what he said. Was she being annoying? Was she bothering him? Had she completely misunderstood where they stood with each other?
She asked softly, "What?"
"I said, leave me alone," he told her, not the least bit more confident, just tired of her games. "I-I don't want to hang out with you, and I don't want to do your project f-for you. Figure it out for yourself and don't talk to me again. So you can stop a-acting nice because I know y-you're really just a bitch."
She stares at him, completely devastated. She blinks back a few tears but Eli doesn't see them because he has his head down, sure that he has a berating coming his way. But instead, Reader just says, "Okay, fine" and walks away.
She ends up crying in the bathroom not understanding what she did wrong, unaware that she didn't do anything wrong. Her makeup runs down her cheeks as she tries to calm down, missing class because she can't. Eventually, Yasmine and Moon start texting her about where she is and if she's okay, why is she missing class (because that's not like her) and what's going on? She can't even hold her phone without shaking and needing to just belt out a cry because why would Eli say something like that? Was she that overbearing and annoying to him?
By the time Yasmine and Moon find her, she's quietly sniffling into her hands because she's so confused and hurt. She asks them to take her home and they skip the rest of the school day. They ask her what happened and she tells them how she was trying to subtly get some alone time with Eli, all for him to tell her to essentially fuck off and not bother him anymore. All Yasmine and Moon hear is that he hurt her feelings and called her a bitch, and they're upset about it.
Yasmine begins saying she knew little creepy nerds like Eli are nothing but jerks and idiots. She goes on and on about it until Moon puts a hand on her arm and says something about how that isn't really helping, fresh tears streaking Reader's face as they buy ice cream and cookies to help her feel better. They end up back home where they do everything they can to make Reader forget about what Eli said with movies, but whenever it gets quiet, his words replay in her head. She's constantly trying to figure out what she did wrong, where she misstepped or misunderstood things. She starts rereading her interactions with Eli as her being overbearing with her flirting and annoying talking to him when he obviously didn't want her to because he never said anything in return.
Of course he was annoyed with me. I was too much all of the time, she thinks to herself, crying softly.
Moon hugs her and lets her cry into her shirt, trying to soothe her by rubbing her back and letting her let it out. She looks at Yasmine sadly, unsure of what else to do because this has never happened to them before. What should they do?
Yasmine is pissed. This is her cousin. Sure, she was annoyed with the way she flirted with the nerdy boy and talked about how cute he was all the time, but now that boy had crossed a line. He'd hurt by far the sweetest of her friends.
Naturally, he had to pay.
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jamespotterismydaddy · 1 year ago
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Lessons in his Chambers
aegon x reader smut (pt 2 of lessons in the gardens pt 3 here)
TW: smut!!, oral sex, corruption kink, spanking, incest, throat fucking(ish), dacryphilia
word count: 1,589
Perhaps it is a sign from the gods that I shouldn’t be here. You think to yourself as you sit quietly on an armchair in Aegon’s chambers, waiting for him to return home. It is late, very late and you should really be in bed but the ache between your thighs is too strong to handle. The tingling sensation has appeared again and again, growing more prominent each time you think about that afternoon in the gardens three days ago. You squirm in your chair and rub your legs together to try and relieve the sensation but it's to no avail as you wait impatiently for his return.
He may stay out all night. I should just go. You stand up, feeling a bit silly and embarrassed that you waited for so long. At this point, your fatigue is beginning to overcome your desire.
That's when he slams open his chamber door.
“Fuck off Erryk. You’re being fucking dramatic.” He slams the door closed behind him. You suppose that he has been out drinking all night but he does seem to have sobered up on the carriage ride home.
He rubs his temples, grumbling before finally noticing you.
“I’m sorry… you seem upset. I should go.” You try to scurry past him but he firmly grabs you by the arm.
“My little dove.” He raises his other hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. “I think that seeing you is just what I needed today.”
“Really?” You ask, a shy smile gracing your features.
“Oh yes but I don’t think you’re here by accident. Do you need Uncle Aegon’s attention?” He teases you and mocks your pouty face.
“You said to come see you if I got that tingly feeling. I know I shouldn’t have been trying to bother you so late and I tried to take care of it myself but-.” He cuts off your rambling.
“Take care of it yourself?” His eyes are cold and you realize that you may have done something wrong.
“Y-yes.” You look down so that you don’t have to meet his gaze.
“What did I tell you to do when you got that feeling?” He asks scoldingly.
“You said I should come see you but I-” He puts a finger to your lips.
“I don’t need to hear your explanation, little dove.” He shakes his head. “My silly little girl, trying to handle it herself… Do you know what happens when little girls are naughty?” He looks at you quizzingly. “They need to be punished to make sure that they learn their lesson.” He tilts your head up so that you have to look at him. You pout.
“But I won’t ever do it again, I promise!”
“I don’t know if I believe you… Perhaps if I spanked you, you’d learn to come see your uncle whenever you get that tingly feeling, hm?”
“A spanking? But i’m a princess!” You whine a little, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.
“Don’t give me that look. I think your uncle has to make your bottom red and sore for being naughty.” He turns you around and removes your cloak, dropping it to the floor which leaves you in your nightgown. He walks over to his couch and sits down. He pats his lap. “Bend over my knee, baby.”
“I don’t wanna.” You look down at the ground, twiddling with your fingers.
“Don’t make me come get you or you’ll get a real spanking and not a play one.” He threatens and so you hesitantly walk over to him and lay yourself over his lap. He takes his time as he pulls your nightgown up and rubs his hand over your ass.
“Why aren’t you wearing any undergarments?” He looks happily surprised by your lack of modesty.
“They went missing last time we ‘played’, uncle.” You say, your cheeks burning.
“What a bad girl you are. What kind of princess comes to her uncle's room so late at night without her small clothes on?” He gives a little swat to your ass and you flinch.
“I’m sorry.” You whine a little as he gives you another smack.
“You know… I don’t think you are.” Another harsher swat this time as your bottom gains a rosy hue. “I think that you like this.” 
“No I don’t!” You lie, squirming at the next smack. 
“Really? Let's check.” He spreads your thighs and runs his fingers through your folds. He then puts a finger inside of you, an impish grin falling upon his face at the squelching noise. “A liar and a whore.”
“I’m not a… whore.” You whimper as he curls his fingers.
“Oh i’m sorry, my sweet niece. Of course you aren’t.” He coos, taking his fingers out of you which causes you to whine. “Take off that nightgown and kneel in front of your uncle.” He says softly and you rise to your feet, your legs shaking a bit as you drop the nightgown to the floor. “What a pretty girl you are.” He gives a little pinch to your nipple.
“Ow.” You yelp.
“I said on your knees.” You obey quickly and his eyes glaze over at the sight of his naked little niece on her knees in front of him. You look up at him nervously as he gestures at his trousers.
“I don’t know what to do.” You chew on your cheek.
“Sometimes I forget how innocent you are.” He lifts his fingers to your lips, which are still dripping with your arousal. “Here, we’ll practice first. Open up, baby.” You open up your mouth and he pushes his fingers in. “Suck.” 
You do as he bids and suck your arousal off of his fingers.
“Watch the teeth. You don’t want to be doing that when those pretty soft lips are wrapped around my cock.” Your eyes widen a bit but you avoid letting your teeth graze his fingers. “Good girl.” He takes his fingers out of your mouth. “C’mon, baby, you know what to do now. I’m not gonna help you anymore, you have to make it up to me for being so naughty.”
You unbutton his trousers and take out his thick cock. You give it a lick.
“Don’t tease me.”
“Sorry.” You say timidly.
You take his dick into your mouth, gagging a bit as it touches the back of your throat. He lets out a low groan.
“Use your hands to help if you can’t take it all.” He advises.
You bring your hand up to stroke the base of his cock as you begin to bob your head. You find yourself pleased by the soft moans he makes. His hand finds your hair, gripping it tightly.
“You’re such a good girl.” You moan against his cock at his praise and unconsciously start grinding yourself against his shoe. He begins to guide you to move faster, his hand in your hair forcing you to pick up your pace. Your eyes well up with tears as he hits the back of your throat.
“You’re doing so good. Taking your uncle’s cock so well down that pretty throat.” He looks down and sees how you’re rolling your hips. “Are you fucking yourself on my shoe, little princess.” You let out a muffled whine. “Dirty girl.”
The sight of your tears as you gag on his cock is enough to send him over the edge as he shoots thick spurts of cum into your mouth. He tugs your hair, pulling your mouth off of him. You look up at him, not sure what to do with the cum in your mouth.
“Swallow it.” He commands and he takes delight in how your face screws up as you do.
“It’s salty.” You scrunch up your nose.
“You don’t like it, baby?” You shrug. He laughs before tilting your head so press a soft kiss to your lips. You can smell the faint scent of alcohol on his breath and taste the copper flavour of his cracked lips as he tastes himself on yours. “You’ll get used to it… now you deserve a reward for being such a good girl. Switch spots with me.” You hop up with a smile, happily sitting in his spot as he takes his turn to kneel in front of you.
“You gonna touch my pearl again?” You ask hopefully.
“Oh yes, but you’re gonna like this even more.” He manoeuvres your legs so that they hang over his shoulders and he licks a long strip up your folds causing you to gasp. “Seven hells, this might be the sweetest cunt I have ever tasted.”
With that, he buries his head between your thighs. Your eyes roll back in your head as you put your hand down to grasp at his hair.
“O-Oh, Aegon…” You let out soft little whimpers as he suckles on your ‘pearl’, he takes pride in the fact that you can’t prevent yourself from moaning. You squirm away a little as he sticks his tongue inside of you and he slaps your thigh, looking up at you.
“Stay still.” He says, his mouth glistening with your arousal.
He gets back to work, lapping up all your juices as you get closer to your peak.
“I’m gonna… gonna.” Your orgasm crashes over you like waves over a rocky shore as the feeling of euphoria fills your body. Aegon presses a kiss to your thigh before looking up at you once again.
“Next time you get that tingly feeling, come straight to Uncle Aegon.”
taglist: @valeskafics @girlwith-thepearlearring
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thebestofoneshots · 9 months ago
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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)
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Series Masterlist | Previous episode
Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 10.7 K Warnings: None Prompt: Some of Peter's ideas have very convenient fundamentals... This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp
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Chapter 33: More Than a Feeling
November 30th, 1976
You knocked on the door before you entered the class. Seraphina was standing beside her desk and nodded to let you in. You smiled and went straight to sit next to Remus. He had carried your bag and placed it on the seat next to his, to save a space for you. You smiled when you saw him and thanked him silently as Seraphina continued to talk. 
She was going on about dark magic and how bIood is often involved in rituals of its kind “As you know, every living being has magic cursing through their system. But it’s not quite that it emanates from them but rather that you have the capacity to store it. Muggles don't have such an ability, which is why they cannot wield magic like we do. Some people can use this magic more than others, and some can learn to improve their capacity to store and to use the magic around them for spells.”
“Is this a first-year class?” A Hufflepuff girl scoffed behind you. 
“And while this seems like basic knowledge, it goes a lot deeper than that, Miss Anderson. Those who wield magic for many years, start developing changes in their system. From simple things like being able to do wandless magic by developing their skill to use their body and hands to cast spells, to more elaborate ones, where you alter your bIood, or even your very soul, for example.” 
There were whispers in the background after she said those words. Students knew how dangerous dark magic could be. They knew it could taint a soul and corrupt the finest of wizards. But most of them also knew that sometimes there was no other choice than to use them in self-defence. Especially with the whispers of the war, it was not unheard of that some wizards had used the unforgivables against deatheaters. 
“In this class, we have seen hexes and curses that could protect you, we’ve talked about courses and magical contracts. Binding bonds and spells, etc. We’ve faced against some dangerous creatures and defeated them. We’ve duelled each other,” she threw you a look “and had some unfortunate accidents, but those are to be expected.” 
She sighed, “Today we’ll be talking about an interesting but dangerous thing. BIood rituals. Anyone have any idea what I might be referring to?” 
Lily raised her hand, “BIood rituals are the use of spells that require bIood, either a bIood sacrifice or just a few drops of someone’s bIood. They can be very dangerous and powerful, and if used to harm, they can even bind the person whose bIood has been used in the spell. They aren’t all dark magic, but they can be extremely dangerous.” 
“Excellent, Miss Evans. 10 points for Gryffindor,” Seraphina said while Lily beamed. “Indeed, they can be extremely dangerous. But it isn’t dangerous all the time. In fact, some bIood magic is used in the simplest of things. For example on magical contracts.” 
“Like the ones used in the past in the Triwizard Tournament,” Imogen said out loud. 
“Indeed Miss Potts,” Seraphina said. “Your great-great-grandma was a participant, correct?” 
“She won,” Imogen said proudly. 
“That’s right, I apologise for my ignorance on the matter. But it is correct, to put their names in The Goblet of Fire the students had to give a drop of their bIood too, as a way to bind them, since once they were chosen there was no way out of the tournament.” 
“An awful event if you ask me,” Lily whispered to Marlene, they were sitting right in front of you and Remus.
“I don’t know,” you said. “I think it was rather interesting, testing your magical skills against real but controlled threats, seems pretty cool to me.” 
“Of course, you would say that,” Lily said as she shook her head. 
“What? Why?” you asked with a small frown “I genuinely think that–” 
“Because you tend to like dangerous things sweetheart,” Remus said as he gave you a look. 
“Well that’s–” 
“You play quidditch,” Marlene intervened, “And you are in the duelling club. You like danger, the adrenaline rush and all that.” 
“You would love to be in the Triwizard tournament, wouldn’t you?” Lily added. 
“Well I never said that but… I suppose I would try signing up for it.”
“There you go,” Lily said as she turned back around “It’s the kind of thing that would suck you in like nifflers drawn to shiny things.” 
“I’m surprised you haven’t gotten in much more trouble so far,” Marlene added as she too turned around. 
Remus chuckled and you threw him a look. “Or… she’s just really good at not getting caught.” 
You scoffed, diverted at that and shoved him lightly. He just gave you a teasing smile in response. You’d realised Remus had gotten the habit of teasing you a lot more often the past few days. At least as much as you used to tease him. 
After that, you turned back to look at Seraphina, who kept talking about contracts by bIood, secret keepers, the Fidelius Charm and other kinds of magical bonds. Remus on the other hand, hadn’t quite gone back to the class. His mind had gone off, thinking about Lily’s words, what they implied and what he eventually said: Because you tend to like dangerous things, sweetheart. 
Is it possible that that is why she…
“…do you agree Mr. Lupin?” Seraphina asked startling Remus out of his thoughts.
He looked at her wide-eyed and turned his gaze to you, throwing you a pleading look. You bit your lip and grabbed your quill, scribbling something on your parchment as quickly as you could and moving it towards him as casually as possible. 
Remus scanned over your paper, but you hadn’t exactly been very specific with it either. It only said “BIood Bonds Bad?” 
Remus swallowed and turned back to Seraphina “Well, I think it’s not possible to have a certain yes or no opinion on the matter, it’s a matter of how you use them and for what. For example, if you’re using a bond to bind someone to you against their will, to make an imperious stronger or to curse their bIoodline then we can all agree they’re terrible. Dark wizard stuff even. But if you use bIood for a magical contract to make sure both parts will fulfil it, or to deepen your connection with someone or even to protect someone by sacrificing yourself, then the line becomes a lot more blurry.” 
Seraphina seemed pleased by his answer and nodded “Brilliantly said, Mr. Lupin. That is indeed why we are taking this class, and why I consider it so important. I want you to pick a position, either for or against, and then you’re going to work in teams to form a debate in which you’ll go over the good and bad of using bIood magic.” 
People started to split the classroom when Remus turned to you “Thanks,” he muttered. 
You smiled and turned to him. “What’s got that pretty head of yours in the clouds, hm?” you asked. Not even realising you had casually called him pretty, perhaps the veritaserum wasn’t completely out of your system yet, prompting you to say a lot more than usual. 
“I was thinking of someone.” 
“Someone… And may I know who that was?” 
“No.” 
You pouted, “But I helped you.” 
“Are you gonna charge in the favour?” 
“No, but telling me would be the polite thing to do,” you said with a shrug.
He pulled his head to the side as he sucked in some air with a bit of a shrug. “You’re outta luck. I’m not feeling very polite today.” 
You bit your lip at that, thinking of a clever retort when you felt two arms wrap around your waist from behind and pull you to the owner’s chest. You knew it was Sirius the moment you felt his hands on you, not because you were an expert on his hands, but because you could smell his cologne –or perhaps it was his shampoo or just him– the moment he stepped on your personal bubble. 
He then dug his face into your neck, you saw Remus advert his gaze, and you could have considered it politeness but, there was something else, you frowned looking at Remus as your eyes narrowed, and then Sirius pressed his lips to your neck, on the exact same spot he had sucked a hickey the past week and the scarlet flags lurking on the sides of your mind were washed away in an instant. After all, you were probably just imagining things, right?
“Sirius, what are you…?” You asked and he pulled his head away from your neck and pecked your cheek, his movement had been so sudden that you were startled into silence. 
“You looked so pretty from afar,” he admitted “don’t know why Moony insisted on sitting so far from me and James.”
“You were being loud, you would’ve brought us in and we would have lost more house points,” Remus responded simply. Of course, that wasn’t the reason. He was feeling a little more jealous than normal that day. Probably because you had gone and kissed Sirius on what he considered his time. On potions, you were his partner, not Sirius’.
Sirius pouted, his chin now resting on your shoulder as he looked at Moony. “So what are we, for or against?” he asked. 
“Hm? We’re all gonna be on the same team?” you asked. 
“Well duh, why do you think we’re here,” he said as he pointed at James and Peter. 
“Well... I think against is too easy,” you said. 
“What’s wrong with easy?” Peter asked. 
“It’s boring,” Remus and you replied almost at the same time. 
“Nerds,” Sirius said, chin still resting, you pushed your shoulder blades back to nudge him and he just smiled, “but the best nerds,” he added then. 
You rolled your eyes. “So we’ll be for?” Lily asked, “I think it’s a great choice.” 
“I agree,” James said a little too fast. Lily threw him a look and he just shrugged and gave her a wink. 
“Well then for it is,” Marlene said. “This is our side of the classroom anyway, isn’t it?” 
Lily nodded, and you all started to dig through your books to try and find arguments that would back you up on the debate. Learning a couple of interesting things about bIood magic with the books that Seraphina had borrowed, some of them from the restricted section. And while most things in those books were warnings about the ill use of this kind of magic, it did point out some of the uses they had for good.
The debate had gone quite fast. And while the other team had great points in their favour, in the end, all of you put up a great front against them. You thought it had been really fun, and Mary mentioned it was a very muggle way of teaching, and that she remembered having gone through a similar exercise at her elementary school before Hogwarts. Which had been rather interesting since according to your knowledge, Seraphina was a pureblood. 
Saturday, December 4th, 1976
It had been a grueling day. Apparition had finally started to involve the physical act of apparating and it was exhausting. Professor Dumbledore had taken each student one by one on an apparition so that they got the feeling of it. Some of the students that had never done it before ended up puking all over the grass. Mary had excused herself to go to the infirmary to get headache pills. Lily had thrown herself into the grass and stared at the sky for several minutes while taking deep breaths. 
Peter had to swallow his own puke, and this wasn’t the first time he’d ever apparated in his life. Remus had done quite well. He had appeared on the other side of the grass with a straight face and had walked over to you calmly. 
“It wasn’t that bad,” he said as he approached you “I thought it’d be worse.” 
You frowned at that, you didn’t remember your first time apparating, since it had been when you were a baby, but your mom would always tell the story that you cried and cried for hours after it. And then it took a small dose of calming draught to get you to sleep that night. The next time they did it, the result had been similar. Eventually, you got used to it.  But by the reactions of the students that had never done it, you figured there was no possible way that it “wasn’t that bad” which is why there was only one answer to Remus’ reaction. He was used to a lot worse. 
You almost wanted to hug him after it, but you knew he’d think it weird, and if he knew it was because you felt bad about his situation, he’d think you were pitying him. And Remus Lupin hated to be pitied. Even if it wasn’t pity what you felt, you just thought your friend was so brave, and he had gone through so much already. It's silly, you thought, but you still wanted to hug him. 
Thankfully you were quickly distracted by Sirius who went next, coming back to you from the other side completely unaffected by it, exactly like James had. The latter boasting a little about how good he was, saying it had to do with how much quidditch he practised when, in reality, had a lot more to do with how many times Effy and Fleamont had apparated him. 
When it was your turn you approached Professor Dumbledore calmly. He called you by your last name and extended his arm for you to hook yours onto. “I understand you have apparated before, have you not?” He asked calmly. 
You nodded “Yes sir, my parents have been apparating me since I was very small.” 
“Correct. Have you ever tried to do it on your own?” 
You shook your head in response, and then frowned… “Well… there was one time in my previous school in which I attempted to do it with a friend. I was young and… well we splinched badly. She had the worst of it. I had to stay at the infirmary for almost 3 whole days. She stayed for the entire week. We got detention for it.”
Dumbledor raised an eyebrow at that, “And you haven’t tried again since?” 
You shook your head. “We promised we would enrol in the class together, and then I moved… so suppose there wasn’t really a reason not to try again anymore but… I’ve been rather busy since I got here.” 
“So I’ve heard,” he said with a nod, an almost imperceptible smile on his lips. 
You gave him an awkward smile in return and he tilted his head as if asking if you were ready, to which you nodded. In no less than a second, he was apparating the two of you to the other side of the field. 
Your stomach turned upside down when you were on the other side, not because of the apparition, but because of the memories brought along with it. One second you were in class, with your arm locked on Professor Dumbledore, the next you were in the forest, launched across Barty’s shoulder against your will. 
The memories flooded your head without you having a say on it and the moment you landed on the other side you were tense, seething with anger, panic and helplessness. You blinked and tried to steady your breath, your eyes seeking something to anchor to, and you spotted Sirius, who was talking to James with a huge smile on his face. 
Two people noticed your restlessness. First, it was Dumbledore, who had seen the scenes of the memory you had accidentally projected into his mind as he apparated the two of you. You had been studying occlumency the last few days and you had unwittingly transmitted all of it straight into him. He turned to you, noticing how much less relaxed your grip on his arm felt. 
“Are you all right?” He asked calmly. You somehow managed to nod, your eyes still trying to focus on Sirius’ laugh instead of the memories that plagued your mind. But Dumbledore didn’t let go of you yet. “I would suggest you take the rest of the day off.” 
“What?” You asked, focusing your eyes on the old teacher “I’m fine I–” 
“You seem to have a lot on your mind…” He added with a courteous nod. You looked at him with eyes opened wide, breath hitching at your throat when you realised what you had done. “And you’ve also had a rough couple of days.” 
You looked at him, a serious look on your face, as you focused on your thoughts, trying to conceal what had happened the rest of that night, and attempting to leave out details like the phase of the moon and when you saw Remus. It didn’t feel like Dumbledore was trying to pry further, but you still had to try. 
“I’ll send a note to Silvanus excusing you from his class. You’ve been doing quite well on it regardless.” 
“You don’t… Will you not ask what happened?” you asked as you turned to him, “Sir,” you added as an afterthought, trying to maintain your politeness. 
Dumbledore cocked his head to the side, “If you wanted me to know, you would have come to me the day it happened and you wouldn’t be trying to conceal it. I trust in your judgement Miss (Y/LN). I’ve heard good things about you from more than one teacher.” 
You swallowed. “Thank you,” you added with a courteous nod. 
“Regardless, I do feel the need to tell you that if it ever happens again you shall come straight to me or to any other teacher to report it.” 
“Of course, sir.” Frankly, you weren’t sure if you really meant that, but you said it regardless. He nodded one last time and allowed you to go. 
The other person that noticed was way further from the two of you, he had also been talking to James when a familiar smell hit him. It was exactly the same way you smelled when you arrived at his door, barging it open with an iron poker in your hand. It was the smell of panic.
Remus turned to you in an instant, looking at the way you were desperately looking around the field until you focused on Sirius. He frowned, and then saw your entire interaction with Dumbledore, paying close attention and using his heightened senses to listen in to your conversation with the professor. 
When you eventually walked back to your friends, you moved to stand in between him and Sirius. Neither James nor the other boy seemed to notice your discomfort, in fact, Remus wasn’t sure he would be able to acknowledge it if he hadn’t recognized the smell from that night. You had a cocky smile on your face and you were pretending to be as unaffected as Sirius and James had been. To anyone, you would look like you were perfectly fine, except for the haunting look in your eyes, perhaps. Remus wondered, if Sirius looked close enough, would he be able to notice too? As he stared at you laughing at some silly joke James had made about the weather, he started feeling the urge to hug you. Of course, he wouldn’t do it, he had no excuse, and you were dating Sirius, not that it was that hard to forget, you were almost always all over each other. 
But he also knew that if he hugged you, you would know he noticed, and then you would think he was pitting you, and you hated to be pitied. But Remus did not pity you, no, he was absolutely stunned by how well you had played your feelings off, hiding them under your skin so skillfully that the only reason he noticed had been because he could still smell them. 
Regardless, Remus Lupin didn’t hug you. He resisted the urge to place his hands around your face like he had done on the shack, or to bring you close to his chest like he had when he cuddled Vixen. He resisted because he knew you weren’t his to hug, but that didn’t stop him from inching closer to you. To stand so close it was almost ridiculous the way your shoulders would rub against his as you laughed, or pretended to laugh, or attempted to do it by drowning the memories with the sound of the other boys’ laughs. He wasn’t sure which of the three it was. 
When the class was over, you told the boys you’d go make sure Lily and Mary were alright, that you would check on Mary at the infirmary with Mars after taking Lily to the room. James tried to offer himself for the job but Remus stopped him. He knew you were looking for a way out and into the comfortable silence of probably the common room or the library or somewhere. 
Even if you were a lot more relaxed now, the smell lingered just a bit, like your emotions were threatening to get out. Remus wanted to go with you, to be there for you like you had been after all the moons since you met him. But he also understood the need for time alone and time to think, and there was something in your eyes that told him that that was exactly what you needed. 
You waved the boys goodbye and walked alongside Marlene and Lily to the room. You both were holding the red-head, arms linked to each other as a way to help her keep balance. 
“It feels like I’ve been on a boat for hours,” Lily complained. 
You gave her a sympathetic look “I think I’ve got something for nausea on my cupboard,” you mentioned “Mom sent it over when she heard I fell off my broom.” 
“But that… you didn’t fall because of nausea,” Marlene said with a frown. 
“Yeah… I didn’t want to tell her I jumped off of it, to get the snitch,” you said with a grimace. Lily was looking between the two of you, trying to focus on the conversation as much as possible. But she was still dizzy. 
Eventually, the three of you made it to the room, both you and Marlene helped Lily to the bed, and then shut the curtains to make her feel more comfortable. You were rummaging through your trunk, trying to find the potion when Marlene said she’d go check on Mary. In the end, you decided to split, Marlene would check on Mary while you stayed with Lily. 
“You’re going to miss class,” Lily complained as you walked towards her with the potion finally in your hands. You gave her a look; as if she hadn’t missed a bunch of classes for you in the past week. She pouted in response “But who’s gonna give me their notes?” 
You smiled as you sat on the bed and placed your hand on the back of her head and gently brought it forwards to make it easier for her to take the potion. “Remus will be in that class, we can get his notes.” 
“With his handwriting?” Lily asked when she finished the potion. 
You gave her a look “It’s not that bad!” 
“When he charms it.” 
“You’re exaggerating,” you told her as you passed a small candy to her, the nausea potion had always been a bit bitter. 
She opened her mouth instead of taking it in her hands and you just placed it on the spot. “Is apparating always going to be this bad?” she asked you as she savoured the candy. 
You shook your head “It gets better,” you promised “I’m sure you’ll be top of the class in no time.” 
She almost snorted at that. “What are you planning to do?” 
You shrugged in response, “Maybe I’ll read ahead,” you said, “or just some fiction.” 
“I miss the telly,” she said with a pout. You smiled at that, while you did not have a television at home, you had encountered one on your walks through Muggle London and had been absolutely fascinated by it, the little screens showing moving pictures just like magical portraits but instead of having a defined person –or people– they had all sorts of stories on them. Including some of the movies you had seen in the cinema before. 
“Want me to read you something?” 
She gave you a look, and then extended her hand and passed a book over to you– a copy of “The Lord of the Rings”. 
“Oh, I love these books!” You said with a smile. 
“It’s my third time reading them actually,” she said “I read them before I came to Hogwarts and I always felt somehow connected to them,” She told you before she yawned. You smiled, realising the potion was already working its magic. 
You flipped through the pages until you found her bookmarker. It was a small blue wildflower, already dry, you took it in your hands and eyed it carefully, Lily looked up at it sadly, “Sev gave it to me a while ago,” she said casually “I can’t bring myself to throw it away.” 
You gave her a look and placed it back on the book, you didn’t exactly like Snape, and you knew why she was sad about it, but you also understood how hard it must have been for her, that her best friend changed so much that he turned against her. He had even called her a slur, a ridiculous word the pureblood assholes had invented, to say when they needed to feel superior. 
Lily saw the way you carefully placed the flower near the back of the book and nodded as you started narrating from where she had left off. Frodo and Sam had just met Legolas when you heard some light snoring from the girl. You smiled and closed the book, taking a bookmarker of your own instead of using the flower again, that way when Lily opened the book, she wouldn’t have to think of Severus, even if the blue flower was still safely tucked in the back.
You gave the girl one last look, tucking in her bed sheets with a swish of your wand before walking back towards your own bed. You stayed there for a few minutes, taking your charms book and skimming through it before setting it on the side and taking an occlumency one instead. Nightshade had given it to you after you asked, and after the ridiculous way in which you had projected all your memories to Professor Dumbledore, you knew you had to continue studying it. 
You looked at Lily one last time and decided a change of setting would be the best, especially since the low-lit space you had created for her comfort wasn’t helping the headache threatening to form as you continued attempting to read the book through squinted eyes. Besides, holding your wand up with Lumos had gotten annoying. 
Exiting the room a few minutes later, you walked straight to the common room and plopped down on the sofa, your head towards the fire so you could properly read the pages. You had been so engrossed in the book, you didn’t hear the portrait open, and you certainly didn’t notice Sirius walking all the way towards you. 
He looked at you as you read the book, moving his hands in the air to try and get your attention a couple of times, but when it proved to be useless, he decided to get your attention in a different way. He leaned closer to you and climbed on top of you, letting his head fall on your stomach as the rest of his body settled over yours. You moved the book to the side and gave him an incredulous look as he snuggled up against you.  
“You’re heavy,” you said as you playfully attempted to push him off. 
“Oh, so you only realise I’m here to try and kick me off?” he teased, looking up at you. “No hey Puppy how was class? Why do you look so tired? No, just ‘You’re heavy.’” 
You giggled at his words, “How was class, Puppy?” 
He hummed unsatisfied in response, easily hearing the sarcasm laced in your words “Awful. Kettleburn had us clean the pens of the Nifflers. They’re adorable until you have to clean things up and smell their stool.” 
“And you’ve come to lay on top of me after that?” You asked as you tried to push him off again, but he just wrapped his arms around your torso tighter. 
“Yes, because you smell nice,” he mumbled as he dug his head on the sweater you were wearing -Remus’ sweater-, “and James used a cleaning spell on me so don’t try to push me off again.” 
“But you’re heavy,” you said with a small pout. 
“Not true, you love it,” he said simply, refusing to move. You rolled your eyes but allowed him to stay. Even if Sirius was actually just slightly heavy, there was a part of you that enjoyed being cuddled by him like this a little too much. And whatever spell James had used was perfect, Sirius smelled like nothing but himself. A smell you already found intoxicating in and of itself. You sighed and took the book again. “Wait, really?” 
“What?” You asked as you moved the book to the side to look at his face. 
“Your gorgeous boyfriend is right on top of you, pretty much begging for a cuddle and you prefer reading… What is that?” he asked as he pulled the book from your hands to read the title “Occlumency?! Really? Is occlumency more interesting than me?” He added as he threw the book back, instead of falling straight on the floor, which you would have definitely reprimanded him for doing, it floated down towards one of the side tables in a gentle motion. 
You stared at the book a little impressed, especially when you turned back to Sirius and realised his wand was tucked in the pocket of his pants. He was surprisingly good at wandless magic, that you knew, but it never failed to impress. 
You turned to him with a small smirk as you leaned your hand towards his head “Sirius if you want my attention you just have to ask for it,” you said as you dug your hand into his hair.
He hummed again, closing his eyes peacefully as he felt your fingers run over his scalp, an action that reminded you a lot of how Padfoot –back when you thought he was Fang- had reacted to you petting him. You wondered if it was a dog thing or a Sirius thing. You saw him take a deep breath as he buried his head deeper into your stomach. 
“I’ll pretend that isn’t weird,” you teased with a smile. 
He turned to you with a reproachful gaze. “It helps the stool smell go away,” he said with a frown. 
You just laughed, also being a canine made you understand the appeal of smells, especially his smell, but you were never as obvious about it, besides, there was nothing as fun as teasing Sirius… Which reminded you of that talk you’d had with Peter after the quidditch game. You reached for the nape of his neck and gently turned his head to look at you, you saw the way his nose brushed on your stomach and how the tip bent just a little as he turned your eyes to yours, “You know… the other day I was talking to Peter–”
Sirius winced “Don’t tell me it’s about one of his ridiculous ideas because–” 
“Hey listen!” you told him as you smacked him lightly, “Peter is smart too.” Sirius only raised his eyebrows “Sometimes,” you added. “He’s good at Herbology and Care for Magical Creatures.” 
“And your point?” 
You rolled your eyes. “He said something and… I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” you had stopped scratching his scalp for a second and he nudged your hand by moving his head for you to get back to it, much like a dog would. You held back a laugh and continued, “he said that when their parents got him a kitten, they had to rub the kitten onto the cat to make him accept him.” 
Sirius frowned, completely lost in the point you were trying to make. “Is this your way of trying to convince me to get a kitten? Because I don’t like them.” 
You laughed. “No, I have enough pets with you lot being my friends.” He looked offended and leaned his head to give a soft, playful bite to your arm. You just smiled, biting your own lip. “Point proven.” 
He scoffed and placed his head on top of the arm he had bitten as he looked at you straight in the eyes, you almost lost your train of thought as you stared at him, always fascinated by the fact that someone so beautiful would be looking at you, with such a gaze. 
“So what’s with the cats then?” He asked, he was looking at you in a way that made your knees weak, and you were happy you were lying on a sofa rather than standing. 
“Well, it’s a smell thing,” you said as you broke eye contact, focusing on your hands on his hair to try and speak properly. “Peter said it’s something about getting the kitten to have the smell of the pack so the larger cat wouldn’t attack him.” Sirius nodded. “He then mentioned that… Moony had honed in my smell. That even on the first moon of the year he had been restless, and had been really hard to deal with.” 
“Yeah, he was a bitch,” Sirius said as he nodded “Kept wanting to go in the castle.” 
“Mhm,” you agreed. “So Peter suggested that we do the same.” 
Sirius arched his eyebrows at you as he passed his tongue over his lips, clearly amused at your suggestion. “Sweetheart, if what you wanted was to rub against me, you could have just said that,” he said with a small smirk and a suggestive look. 
You scoffed and swatted him on the head, “Sirius focus! He said I could rub onto you or James.” 
“No!” he said all too fast, a flash of jealousy in his eyes. 
You giggled, “Well… technically he said Padfoot and Prongs. He offered himself too but said he was too small.” 
“Ugh…Don’t put that image in my head!” He said with a frown. And then turned to you again “What about Remus? Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to rub on him?” 
You nodded, “Yeah, but it doesn’t seem very clever to go rub onto Moony when he could just reach down and close his jaws around me, does it?” 
Sirius frowned, “Not Moony, Remus.” 
“You think that would work? You don’t smell the same as Pads.” 
“Why, been smelling me much?” he teased. 
You rolled your eyes, “Padfoot smells a lot more like a dog.” 
“Are you suggesting I stink?” 
“Your words, not mine.” He pinched your side with his hand and you laughed. Of course, you didn’t think he smelled bad, in fact, Vixen seemed to be just as drawn to that smell as you were by Sirius’. 
“Anyway, Remus smells like Moony.” 
“Been smelling him much?” you teased now. 
He gave you a look, “I live with him you moron.” He omitted the fact that yes, he had, and that Remus had been clouding his thoughts for a while now. 
You sighed, “Well, I suppose we could turn into Vixen and Pads and cuddle him then. You think he’d be up for it?” 
He looked to the side as if thinking about it, “Well… If anyone can convince him, it’s us.”
You nodded in agreement. And then you remembered, “Talking about Remus…” 
“Mhm?” 
You sighed, “I’ve been invited to Slughorn’s Christmas Party.” 
“Congratulations?” he said a little confused, “What’s that got to do with Moons?” 
“He’s never been invited.” He hummed in response as if to get you to elaborate, you continued to brush your nails on his scalp, he could feel your nervousness in the way the patterns you made had gone a little faster. “I want him to go. He… seemed a little harsh when I suggested that he must have been invited many times because of how clever he is.” 
“He won’t like it, he’ll think it’s pity.” 
“No, but… I think he deserves it! More than me even!” 
Sirius shook his head “It’s not just about cleverness, I was invited in my first year, all of my cousins had been members of the Slug Club. Of course, I didn’t go.” 
You sighed, “Yeah, maybe my father being who he is has a lot more to do with my invitation than anything.” 
“That’s not… it’s not what I was trying to say…” 
You sighed again. “I know, Puppy.” You then turned to him, “Would you mind if I invited him?” 
“Instead of me?” He teased. 
“Of course if you don’t want to I would never, I just–” 
Sirius laughed, “I couldn’t care less about the Slug Club, in fact, Walburga might be pleased if I were to go, so I think it’s great if you take Remus instead.” He really tried not to think of how good the two of you would look all dolled up for the party together. 
“You think they know about us?” You asked with a frown. 
“I’d be surprised if they didn’t,” Sirius said and then shrugged, “If anything I bet they’re pissed you’re dating me and not Regulus.” 
You laughed at that, and then remembered the way Walburga had stared at you when she introduced their children, “Imagine if they knew I’m part-fairy.” 
“You what?” Sirius asked, pushing himself from you to look straight at your face. 
“You… I didn’t tell you?” 
“No!” 
“I thought I had,” you said with a guilty-looking smile “It’s from my mum’s side, my great grandma was a fairy, but they decided to keep it secret.” 
“That must be why you’re so pretty,” He said as he leaned back against you “And so good at flying, it’s kind of an unfair advantage when you think about it.” 
You smiled, you knew Sirius wouldn’t judge you for being part fairy, but there was something about the way in which he took it, like it was the most normal thing in the world –rather similar to the way Remus had– that made you want to plant a kiss on those pretty pinky lips of his. 
“How do we convince Remus of the cuddling?” You asked then, your mind going back to the other boy. 
Sirius smirked, “We don’t convince him. We surprise him,” he said as he stood up and extended his hand for you to take, a mischievous look on his face that made him look like the most alluring thing you had ever seen in your life. You almost gaped at him as you grabbed his hand and he pulled you off the bed and dragged you to the stairs of the boys’ dormitories. 
Remus Lupin hadn’t had the best of days. He had attempted to help the boys clean the pens but the animals kept drifting apart from him and trying to escape their little space because of his presence. Eventually, Professor Kettleburn had asked him to step out of them and help him sort out some of the food, dividing it into smaller bags for the younger students to be able to feed them later on. 
Remus was already used to not being able to be close to some creatures, they didn’t exactly like him much, probably because they could smell the wolf in him. Of course, it wasn’t like that all the time, in fact, the fireworms he was still co-parenting with you seemed to have gotten a liking to him, although he wasn’t sure if it was because they couldn’t quite think properly or if the real reason was because a fireworm could be easily as destructive as he was. 
Either way, Remus hated sorting the food, it was a boring, tedious task that he felt brought no new knowledge to him, but that wasn’t even the worst part. No, the worst part was that, because it was such a simple and mundane task it offered no mental challenge, which meant his brain was idle. And of course, since his brain was idle, he couldn’t stop thinking about things he’d rather not think about at all. Let alone in depth.
It had all started as he was serving the second bag, his brain had gone back to the previous class, he’d seen how worried you were. While you hadn’t told Remus and the boys, or anyone the exact details of what had happened that night, you had mentioned Barty apparating in front of the Shack. Remus knew the boy was talented, but he didn’t know that he was that talented. He had no idea how to apparate yet, although after doing it with Dumbledore he thought he could learn how to do it easily enough. 
He had also linked the smell from that night exactly to the way you smelled that day. He’d noticed he’d become a lot better at isolating your smell from the rest of people after the incident. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the lingering smell of bIood that always seemed to be carried alongside you after you had been wounded; because he had been so close to your animagus in the infirmary or because his obsession had just gotten that bad, but it was happening. Quite similar to the way he could easily isolate Sirius’ smell. But smell sometimes changed a little, he remembered easily being able to know when Sirius had snogged someone by the sheer smell he exuded afterwards, it always pissed him off and he had to play it out, especially after he realised it was because he too wanted to snog him. He could also tell when the rest of the boys had done similar things, but that had never bothered him. 
But the fact that Remus had been able to identify the exact smell from that night, meant you were probably reliving what had happened, which had, in turn, put him just as on edge as he had been then. The same worry filled his insides, the same need to protect. It had taken a monumental struggle not to instantly sprint your way when the smell first hit him, and it had been even harder to hold back from hugging you when he could see damn well you could use one. And Sirius was too busy boasting with James to notice, not that you weren’t a brilliant actress, heck you hid it almost as well as he hid his aches and pains after a moon. But there had been few people he couldn’t quite hide it from. Turns out there were also people you couldn’t hide it from: that being Remus. 
Remus attempted to focus on something else, and he looked up to try and find some kind of interesting animal, student drama or something, but instead, what he found was Sirius’ intense gaze. His eyes, which looked more blue than grey that day because of the sun that shone so brightly over them as they cleaned, were focused on Remus. Remus almost scowled, thinking Sirius was looking at him out of pity, but then he noticed that Sirius hadn’t quite realised Remus was looking at him yet. When they locked eyes, Sirius continued to shamelessly stare at Remus, looking to be rather deep in thought as he stared at his friend, as if he were trying to solve a riddle. 
While Sirius didn’t look particularly angry as he stared, Remus was slightly intimidated by him, was there any chance he had noticed the way he had been looking at you? The way he kept staring at him when he wasn’t looking? Sirius wasn’t particularly oblivious to the way people looked at him, to the way girls looked at him.  Was it possible that he was able to link those gazes to the ones Remus often threw his way? 
Regardless of how intimidating “the Black” stare could be, Remus held his stance, staring at Sirius with as much curiosity and moxy as he could muster. Sirius seemed amused by that, biting his lip in the most lascivious manner Remus had ever seen in his life and then sending a wink in Remus’ direction before focusing on cleaning again. 
Remus was glaring at Sirius’ back as the boy turned his head, how dare he wink at me like that? he thought as he mentally scoffed. Needless to say, Remus wasn’t able to get Sirius off his head after that, especially Sirius’ soft-looking lips. Fucking Sirius Black and his fucking pretty lips. He’s an arse who knows how pretty he is and uses it to his advantage. What a prat! Why must he be so fucking pretty?!? 
By the end of the class, Remus’ head was in pain from how many thoughts were going ‘round inside of it, he might as well be a merry-go-round with how much it was swiveling. He had a headache, he was full of dirt and animal food and he was still pissed at Sirius who had looked at him the way he did. 
James had gone chasing behind Lily with the excuse that he had to go check on her and Sirius had approached Remus right after. Peter was lost somewhere, but Remus couldn’t care less at that point. He was still pissed at Sirius, for absolutely no reason at all. 
“You alright?” Sirius asked with a frown, and fuck did he look adorable.
“I’ve got a bit of a headache,” Remus said sharply, “I think I’ll go to the library.” 
“You have a headache and will go to the library?” Sirius asked puzzled, “Doesn’t seem very clever, why don’t you come with? I’m going to try and find Kit, I’m surprised she didn’t come back to class after taking Lily to the dormitories.” 
Remus scoffed, and coughed a bit to cover it up when he realised you wouldn’t want Sirius to know you had been affected because of that night, “Wouldn’t want to third wheel on quality time with your girlfriend.” 
Sirius threw him a wary glance as if he had noticed something was wrong with his friend, “You’re never a third wheel Remus, we love having you around.” 
Remus bit the side of his cheek to hold himself from snapping at Sirius, he had no logical reason to do it, any normal person would be more than happy to spend time with his best friends all together, but Moony was a jealous beast and sometimes it sipped all the way into Remus, “I have to prepare my potions essay.” 
There was no potions essay, he had finished it a few nights ago when you had polyjuiced yourself into James to take his punishment for him, not that Sirius knew. 
“And you should cuddle her more,” Remus said almost bitterly. When Sirius gave him a quizzical look he tried to calm his nerves again. “I think It still hurts,” he said “I saw her clutching her arm earlier.” 
Sirius nodded and Remus stared at him as they parted ways, grumbling something about Sirius being unbelievable as he walked to the library. There he tried to find a quiet spot, but after finding none, because all students seemed to be more focused on gossip than on books, he decided to retire to the Prefects’ Bathroom, to try and relax. Unfortunately, when he went he walked in on none other than Alice Becket making out with a Ravenclaw boy from 7th. She seemed surprised when she saw Remus but he just shut the door. 
Remus didn’t care much about Alice snogging other boys, he had used her as much as she was using him, and he knew they weren’t exactly exclusive, but he had already been pretty riled up at the moment, and that was like the last nail in the coffin. Thankfully Alice didn’t follow behind him as he stormed through the hall towards his Common Room. He hoped to the heavens that he wouldn’t find you and Sirius snogging on the couch because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to maintain his sanity if he did.  
Thankfully, as he walked in, he realised it was mostly empty. There were a few first and second-year kids talking, and reading, while most of the older kids had probably gone to the Hogsmeade outing after class. He walked up to his room and opened the door warily as he looked around. He frowned as he took in the smell of the room. It looked empty, but there was a lingering scent of you and Sirius all over the place. The thought that you had both shagged there earlier made him even more uncomfortable as he let himself fall head first on the bed and groaned into his pillow. 
For some fucking reason that also had the smell of you and Sirius. Which, while initially pissed him off, the more he let the smell penetrate him, the more relaxed he started to feel. He was about to let his mind roam with thoughts that he normally didn’t allow himself to have, with all the stress of the day he figured he deserved a break. He took a deep breath and remembered how you and Sirius had sounded back when you were kissing the day you made the potions for the prank. Remus was just starting to get in the mood when he felt his bed dip on the side. He turned around horrified, just to find Padfoot jumping like a happy puppy. 
“What in the bIoody–” He started and then felt the bed dip on the other side. A small red fox had also jumped into his bed. She was wagging her tail as excitedly and happily as Padfoot “Vixen?” he asked, confused. He could have sworn he saw the fox smile. 
The fox and the dog threw a look at each other before the fox climbed on top of Remus’ chest. The dog leaned in closer and rested his head on the fox’s back. Remus looked horrified at the two of them, horrified because he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt more comfortable –perhaps when he was reading and you were all mushed together on his bed– and horrified because he had no idea what the hell the two of you were planning. 
He wasn’t even sure what to say, or if he should say anything, but it pissed him off not knowing what the hell the two of you were up to so he put on the angriest face he could muster “If you two pair of twats don’t get off me in the next five seconds, I will hex you!”
Padfoot stared at him and leaned his head on your back again, only tilting it to the side when Remus started to count down. Sirius had been stared at with that angry, threatening face hundreds of times throughout his life. He’d do something silly near the moon, and Remus would put on that same face and scowl at him, he’d get caught after a prank and Remus would give him the scowl, he’d snog a random girl and leave her and Remus would also get pissed, at this point, Sirius was almost immune to it. You, on the other hand, had only seen Remus angry at the Shack, and while it wasn’t exactly the same face he was making, it did make you recoil, even if it was just a little. 
“Three… Two…” he kept counting, Remus was staring directly at you, and you wriggled out of the sandwich Remus and Padfoot had you on until you fell on the bed. You rolled over your back until you were staring at Remus, weight on your front paws as if you were ready to jump and attack, but there was something playful about it, as if you were challenging Remus. Padfoot on the other hand had just laid his head on Remus’ chest again, looking as unbothered with Remus as Sirius often was. 
Remus attempted to push him off of him but Padfoot didn’t budge. Of course, Remus wasn’t using his full strength and Sirius knew that too, which gave him more confidence to stay right where he was. Besides, Remus was warm and comfortable and he smelled awfully nice that day. 
“Sirius, get off! BIoody hell why are you both attacking me like this?!?” Padfoot barked softly and you leaned closer again, but Remus gave you a warning glance “Either one of you explains to me what the fuck is going on or–” Padfoot leaned forward and licked Remus’ cheek, an action awfully reminiscent of the Halloween party. Remus pushed him off his face “That’s fucking gross!”
Regardless, the dog didn’t seem to care and licked Remus’ hands as he attempted to push him off.  You watched the entire scene diverted when the werewolf turned to you, a pleading look on his face. “Little Witch, please tell me what the fuck is going on.”
You felt genuinely tempted to ignore him and just lick his face like Sirius had done, but there was something about Remus’ pleading expression that made you want to do whatever he wanted. You turned back into yourself, not quite measuring your stance and ended up laying beside Remus, almost like that time you were reading “The Godfather” except this time around your head was leaning on his arm. But rather than stepping away, like Remus expected you to do, you just got yourself comfortable, which was a very Sirius thing to do. Padfoot had laid his paws on Remus’ torso and licked your face once too, which had you laughing merrily as you lay in Remus’ arms. 
Remus was rather tense, feeling like he might be third-wheeling but also awfully welcomed in between the two of you. “Little witch?” he asked again, an edge of panic in his voice as Padfoot continued trying to lick his face and yours. 
“Peter told us we had to cuddle you.” 
“What?!” Remus asked as he frowned, now more confused than he’d been before. 
Sirius transformed back into himself, he was sitting on the bed, leaning slightly onto Remus as his hands were pressed on the other boy’s abdomen like they had done when they were paws. “Well technically, he said Vixen had to cuddle Padfoot and Prongs.” 
“You’re not making anything clear,” Remus said as he motioned to stand but both you and Sirius held him down. You by placing your hands on his arm and Sirius by leaning onto him just a little more. 
“It’s because of the smell,” you explained. “He said Moony had honed on my smell and that he kept chasing after me since the first moon.”
Yeah, Moony isn’t the only one who honed onto your smell, Remus thought. 
“And he said if we rub our smell on her and she smells like the pack then Moony wouldn’t chase her anymore.” 
Remus looked at you horrified, “You wouldn’t be thinking of setting a foot out on the next full moon, would you?” 
“Well of course I will,” you said simply. “We can’t have Moony continue being all reckless chasing after me or whatever, he’s hurting himself, and you in the process.” 
“We can’t have him hurt you either,” Remus said sharply. 
“And that, my dear friend, is why we are going to cuddle you,” Sirius said with an air of finality. 
“I… I don’t know about–” 
“We have to try, Rem!” You said lifting yourself and turning to him, a little more serious now.  You sighed. “I don’t want you to keep hurting yourself because of me. And if what I need to do to fix it is cuddle the shit out of you and Padfoot then, I’ll take one for the team.” 
Sirius barked a laugh after that and shoved you lightly on the side “Oh shut up, Vixen loves cuddles!” 
“Not from dirty smelly dogs,” you teased. 
Sirius straight up gasped at that, looking rather amused. “Oh, you little minx!” He said as he turned into Padfoot again and jumped over you, licking your face mercilessly. He kept barking in between licks. And both you and Remus knew exactly what he was saying even if neither of you spoke dog. 
“Take that back, Take that back!” Padfoot said with each bark. 
After laughing so much your stomach started to hurt, you complied. “All right, alright! You’re not a dirty smelly dog, Pads!” 
The dog barked satisfied, cooing his head in a smug manner that would have allowed anybody to figure out that he was Sirius and not a normal dog. You had reached up and started rubbing the back of his ears, gently scratching. Remus, without thinking much about it, joined you, your fingers brushing against each other as you both petted Padfoot. 
“That’s right, he’s a good boy, isn’t he?” Remus teased. Sirius was about to protest, but the boy scratched the dog in a way he knew would shut him up; and rather than complain, he started wagging his tail behind him as he leaned onto Remus’ touch. 
“By Merlin! You have to teach me that!” You said with a surprised expression as you watched the way Padfoot leaned onto Remus, who had somewhat of a smug smile on his face. “You think it would shut Sirius up too?” The dog barked your way and was about to jump over you again when Remus scratched the same way again and he instantly melted back onto the other boy. You giggled at that. “You’re brilliant, Rem!”
Remus almost beamed at that, while the stress of the day wasn’t getting relieved the salacious way he thought it would, cuddling his two crushes, even if they would be in their animal form, might as well be a lot better. As long as he didn’t think much of it. Besides it had been your idea –technically Peter’s– which meant you actually wanted to cuddle him. 
And while earlier, at least at the Halloween Party he had shone away from your touch, after he felt the way Sirius’ hands and yours brushed over his body, it felt a lot less intimate to cuddle Padfoot and Vixen, even if it was just as nice, and even if you still hadn’t turned to Vixen. You were too entertained petting Padfoot and the dog seemed rather content, even as his girlfriend was cosied up against his best friend. Head on his shoulder and shoulder –the not wounded one– against his torso. 
He knew Sirius to be jealous, he had been jealous of Tom several times, but he seemed to be feeling nothing of the sorts as you cuddled up against Rem. And boy were you a lot closer to him than you’d ever been to Tom, which he was really trying not to think much about. 
Remus stared at the both of you, the dog and the girl, all comfortable, and all over him as he wondered if Sirius just didn’t consider him a rival at all. He had never seemed jealous of how close you and he were. How many projects and classes you had together, how much time you spent with each other. Remus, like he often did, started to overthink it. Was he that bad-looking that Sirius wouldn’t even consider the possibility of him stealing his girl? Was it that impossible to believe you could like him back? 
No, you had called him pretty several times, you had mentioned he was hot too, Sirius had mentioned the same thing. If he didn’t know any better he’d think it had been flirting. But neither of you would flirt, you were too bIoody in love with each other to ever even consider another person. But Sirius was definitely a jealous man. Jealous except when… it comes to me. 
You looked up at Rem when you realised he had stopped petting Pads, you only noticed because the dog kept bumping his head on the way to his hand as if asking to continue what he’d been doing, when you saw the frown on his pretty face, his brows knitting together as he was in deep thought, you spoke “What’s got your knickers in a twist? Is cuddling us that uncomfortable?” 
“What?!” Remus asked as you brought him back, trying not to look at your lips as you laid so close to him, “No, no! I was thinking of– hold up! Aren’t I supposed to be cuddling Padfoot and Vixen?”
“You are,” you said with a shrug.
“I’m cuddling Padfoot and my little witch,” he said amused. 
Not one person in the room questioned the way Remus had said “my” prior to Little Witch. In fact, not the dog, not the girl, not even the small portrait in the back –that was known to be rather outspoken– even questioned the wording of the sentence, as if you all knew, on a subconscious level, that it was true. 
You gasped, not realising you had completely forgotten to turn back, too entertained on petting the dog to think about it “You’re bIoody right!” you said as you leaned forwards brusquely,  Remus really tried not to feel bad about the cold breeze that instantly hit him after your bodies separated from each other. “Must have been really tired, I was about to fall asleep.” 
And you really had been, not that you knew why you were so sleepy. It seemed the cosiness both boys brought over soothed you to sleep. 
Padfoot barked your way, you didn’t have to be a dog expert to know he was making fun of you. He poked his head on Remus’ hand again, as if to prompt him to continue his ministrations, and you looked at him, a spark of jealousy lighting inside you, not because you didn’t like Remus petting your boyfriend, but because you wanted in on the petting too. In an instant, you turned to Vixen, shrinking to the middle of the bed and walking your way toward Remus’ chest, and pushing Padfoot’s head just slightly to the side, as if you owned the place. 
The dog nibbled your ear in protest but ended up letting you do whatever the hell you wanted, placing his head on top of your back once you looked like you had gotten yourself comfortable. He made sure to brush his snout all over your smaller body. Partly because he wanted to make sure he was rubbing you with the scent of the pack, but mostly because he wanted to see if he’d get a reaction out of you. You only leaned closer to Remus, closing your eyes as you got yourself even more comfortable. The boy, the only human left in the room, smiled and placed a hand over your small head. 
Padfoot looked like he was about to protest over the loss of contact, Remus without even opening his eyes mumbled “It’s Vixen the one that needs the smell of the pack, not you Pads.” 
The dog huffed in response, he too wanted to be pet by Remus, but he also knew Remus was right, so he just nuzzled his head closer to Vixen’s body as you nuzzled your own against Remus’ hand. Remus was enjoying the way the two of you warmed him more than almost anything he’d ever enjoyed in his life. Perhaps only rivalled with that one kiss he had given you and the one he had shared with Sirius years past. 
And while the nagging little voice in his head screamed at him to run, to leave before he knew what heartbreak really was after being able to be so close and yet not being able to have either of you, he decided to ignore it. 
Remus would wallow in the feeling of the two of you nuzzling against him, even if it was just this once. 
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yourmomsgranddad · 19 days ago
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— NEW PERSPECTIVE
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— PAIRING: Peter Parker x fem!reader
— SUMMARY: What is Peter to do when men in building start turning up missing? Definitely not expect his new neighbor who's super nice.
— WORD COUNT: 1.6k
— WARNINGS: maybe one curse, tony not giving a single fuck, a few mentions of jennifer's, mention of demons, definitely not lore-accurate but who cares
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Peter was very wary being in his first apartment by himself. He wasn't used to being alone but he was making it work.
It definitely helped considering you were his neighbor.
You moved in on the same day.
He had been done with putting his stuff away so he decided to help you with yours.
You claimed you didn't need his help; you were trying to learn how to live on your own, you didn't need a strong man doing everything for you.
He liked the flattery, so he left you alone.
But that didn't stop from saying hi to you in the hallways, keeping up conversation while getting your mail. You two were becoming friends.
That was until the first person in your building went missing.
Peter was worried, he never knew the person, of course, but still crime happening right under where he sleeps, it was frightening,
"You are not cut out for New York." Tony replied once Peter recounted the story to him while he was working on his suit.
"I'm not cut out for New York because I'm scared of getting kidnapped?" Peter looked at him perturbed, it was a very normal fear to have.
Tony stopped his work completely, pushed his goggles down and looked at Peter incredulously.
"You're scared? Of getting kidnapped? At your big age? Ok." He snorted before going back to work like it was nothing.
He kind of figured Tony wouldn't treat the situation with any severity, he was Iron-Man for crying out loud. Nothing at this point scared him. Except Pepper.
But just because he thought it wasn't serious, but he was still going to stay on the look-out.
One thing he didn't notice on his look-out: you.
You were missing.
You were no longer there for your morning talks while you got your mail. No longer there when he came back from his classes to ask how it went.
It was like you were gone.
He started to think you moved.
But then you popped back up, out of nowhere. Like you never left.
Returned morning mail talks, the smiles you'd pass him when you were on your way to work.
He had completely forgotten about your hiatus.
It never happened.
Things were finally settling back into normal, kidnapping was the last thing on Peter's mind.
But then it happened again. This time, it was a guy who was way closer to Peter's apartment, next door in fact.
He knew he was Spider-Man, but then stop his timbers from being shivered.
"So you're telling me a second kidnapping has hit your apartment building?" Tony tried to contain his joy at his joke but Peter and Morgan both seemed the opposite of pleased.
"You really think that was a good joke to make? What happened to 'never forget'?" Peter crossed his arms, causing Morgan to do the same even though she knew nothing about what they were talking about.
He just rolled his eyes.
"I don't know why you're not more concerned. I could be kidnapped today or tomorrow!" The boy shook in fear.
"You're Spider-Man and you're scared of a kidnapper?"
He shrugged. Just because he gained these muscles and these reflexes didn't mean he lost all of his fears. Although he felt like he should've.
"Forget about the kidnapper! What about this girl, your neighbor? Asked her out yet?" Tony wasn't looking at him, just focusing on his sandwich he was supposed to eating.
Peter looked down, now he was focusing on his sandwich. He was hungry but mostly because he didn't have an answer.
He never got any further than hallway conversations with you. He never asked for your number. He never asked any personal questions. He wasn't even in the friend-zone; he was nowhere.
To make matters worse, you had disappeared again.
Peter thought it was weird. Maybe you had family gatherings that you had to go to often and they were very frequent. Maybe you got sick a lot.
"Or maybe she's kidnapping your neighbors." MJ joked, looking up from her book to give her friend the crazy eyes.
Lightbulb.
He knew his friend was joking but there was some truth in her words. I mean there was the fact that you disappeared right after every kidnapping. It would make sense.
Just then Ned gasped, dropping his book, causing an overwhelming shush to befall the library they were in. He shuddered.
He rolled his eyes before looking at his friends, going back to what he was going to say. "What if she's a succubus? Like Jennifer?" He whispered harshly.
"Aniston?" Peter tried at the same time MJ questioned, "Love Hewitt?"
"I pissed neither of you said Garner. But no. Jennifer Check from Jennifer's Body. Like how she had to eat men to stay young."
Both MJ and Peter wanted to disprove that theory, Ned sounded absolutely crazy. He was most likely watching scary movies the night before. But something about it sounded real. Like it could be true.
"Ok, so what if you're right? What hasn't she eaten me yet?" Peter wondered, I mean he was the closest.
"Well two reasons. One, she thinks you'll taste nasty. Or two, you're her Needy. She only kills other people so Needy will only get her attention."
Peter didn't think that one to be true. You never once shown interest in him. In fact, the one time he tried to get closer to you, you pushed him away.
Then suddenly, another lightbulb.
He looked to his two friends with a smirk that let them know the next thing he was about to say was going to get them arrested in the near future.
"There's one way to test your theory, Ned."
Here they were, sneaking into your apartment holding flashlights, regretting ever leaving the library.
At least MJ was.
Peter noticed nothing out of the ordinary about your apartment. Just the stuff that made it your home.
He found it lovely.
MJ and Ned felt like they were intruding and for sure, committing a crime.
But nothing looked out of place. It looked like a normal apartment, not succubus-like.
Well nothing besides the two yous hanging out in the closet.
"Sorry! I was supposed to be nosey." Ned tried to apologize to the clones but it didn't matter, you both were very much asleep.
"Holy shit!" MJ yelled before Peter jumped forward, putting his hands over her mouth. He was too late although, one of you woke up.
All of three of them couldn't help screaming.
Gasping for air as you hit the ground, as if you were underwater.
Peter jumped out to catch you but it was kind of hard since you were far away.
"Don't worry! I'm not the bad one!" You forced out, your voice hoarse from not talking in a while. You were clutching your chest, hoping to feel your heartbeat.
"How can we believe that?" Ned wondered skeptically as he backed away from you, holding his arms up in the fighting positions.
Abruptly, the other one awoke and lunged at you, pushing to the ground. Her teeth, wild and sharp and animalistic. She barked and hissed like rabid wolf.
"I'm going to eat you whole!" Her voice deep and overbearing, it sounded nothing like you.
"I thought you only ate guys!" You retorted, using the most strength you had to keep her at bay.
"I go both ways."
"Like the movie!" Ned excitedly shouted, looking to his friends as if they were going to share in his joy. As if they weren't in a dangerous situation right now.
A fire-blast shot through your doorway, knocking the clone off of your chest and out cold.
You got off the floor immediately, looking at the damage and catching your breath once more. This is not how you wanted your move to New York to be like at all.
"Dude, there was a demon on your chest." Your eyes shot to your door that was very much open and that very much had Tony Stark in it, holding his repulsor on his hand.
"Oh now you believe me!" Peter shouted, throwing his arms up in anguish.
You were now sitting on Peter's couch.
You weren't allowed to be in your apartment while the scientists extracted the body of the demon.
You didn't really have time to be freaked out, it was something that barely happened to you so you had nothing to grieve. It was kind of like you were sleep for 2 seconds.
"You okay?" Peter decided to sit next to you, he didn't want to leave you alone while you were feeling whatever you were feeling.
"Not really but there's nothing really to freak out about. I would say it was a victimless crime but 2 guys lost their lives." He knew he shouldn't chuckle but he couldn't get over the fact that this might have been the first conversation he had with the real you.
"I can't believe this is like the first time I'm talking to you. This whole time I was talking to a literal demon."
"It's not the first time." His eyebrows furrowed. "I talked to you the first day you moved in. I remember complimenting your muscles." You smiled, a real one and not demonic.
"So that was you?"
"Yeah. I thought you were cute but then the demon bitch took me out." Again, felt inappropriate to laugh but you both had to.
"So you're saying there was a chance?" He looked at you curiously, he didn't want to ruin it.
"Still is."
Your hand slowly but surely made it toward his, clutching tightly. He smiled at the sight, he had no more questions, he was sure.
Without warning, Tony popped up in the doorway again, this time without the Iron-Man adornments.
"Congrats, kid." He flicked him a thumbs-up. "Um, if you have another demon grab onto your likeness, well, good luck, Charlie. And with that, he was gone, not another word.
You were gonna ask but you were done with questions for the day. All you really wanted to do was fall asleep in your cute neighbor's arms.
Which you did.
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viaoverthemoon · 1 year ago
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I have a small request here too✋ I was thinking about Leon (damnation maybe) x fem!reader with reader being his daughter's kindergarten teacher, and the little one falls in love with her and wants to spend more time with reader, and Leon he finds himself forced to accept this, so he falls in love with the reader. It can be with smut at the end or just something romantic, it doesn't matter.
I hope I explained it ok, I've had this idea in my head for some time but I don't know how to express it 😂❤️❤️
Oooo this sounds so cute stawpppp.
Since I have another fic in the works that's drenched in smut, I'll keep this one fluffy. ;)
Damnation!Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader
Summary: You're a kindergarten teacher for Leon Kennedy's daughter and she wants to keep you forever!
Tw: Fluff, Mention of deceased relative, Mention of past miscarriage
READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!
Enjoy! <3
To Belong
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"Congratulations, Arabella! It looks like you're our student of the week!"
You gently place the pin on Arabella's shirt, smiling widely at her proud expression.
Being a kindergarten teacher definitely has its downs. But also has its ups as well. One of those ups being the honor of teaching these innocent children. Every day is something new, a new experience that makes you realize the importance of raising the next generation.
Arabella turns towards you, smiling so wide her cheeks must hurt. She grabs onto your leg. "Thank you, Miss (L/N)! This means so much to me!"
You smile down at her, proud of her for using the feelings lesson you'd taught her, and crouch to her level to give her a hug. "You're welcome, Arabella! I'm so proud of you. Thank you for being such a kind student!"
She seems to take your praise very seriously, being super kind to her classmates and staying by you side, asking if you need help or service in any kind of way.
At the end of the day when everyone has left, you sit alone at your desk.
Whilst flipping from one graded paper to another, the door to your classroom creaks open.
You raise your head just in time to see Arabella run into the room, screaming with her arms in the air. "MISS (L/N)!!!!"
You laugh as she runs around your desk and hugs you, babbling nonsense excitedly. "Oh my goodness! Back so soon, Arabella?"
She gives a hyper nod. "Yes!"
"'Yes ma'am', Bella."
Your eyes snap up, locking with a pair of bright blues.
You look at him, surprised.
The man held a strong resemblance to Arabella, minus the straight blonde hair Arabella carried. They shared blue eyes and a soft face. If anything, his rough exterior yet light features suited him. Gave him a mysterious and alluring air that draws people to him, searching to learn more about him.
"Oh- yes ma'am- Daddy look, look! This is the nice teacher I was telling you about!"
You rise from your chair and hold out a hand with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Kennedy."
He shakes your hand and offers a nod. "Pleasure to meet you too, Miss (L/N). As you can see, I've heard quite a lot about you."
He gives his daughter a pointed look that makes you laugh. You gesture to the seat across from your desk, offering him a seat as you settle back into your chair. "I assume there's a reason you're here that I could help you with?"
Mr. Kennedy sits in the chair, seemingly tired as he falls into the seat and instinctively spreads his legs.
You try your hardest not to acknowledge the action, but your eyes fail you, flickering down his frame for half a second before returning to his face.
You instantly regret your mistake when he smirks at you, straightening up just a bit and resting his arms on his legs. "Actually, I was hoping to discuss what Arabella's behaviors are like while she's at school, as well as how she's learning." He pauses. "I mean, obviously if she's getting student of the month for the 2nd time, she's doing pretty good."
He smiles and playfully ruffles Arabella's hair, earning a laugh from the 5-year-old. "But still. It would be nice to hear from her teacher, not her."
You clear your throat and nod, turning away to escape the burn of his gaze and pulling out a folder labeled A.K., Arabella Kennedy's character chart.
"Of course, I understand. Let's start with how she handles assignments."
After about 45 minutes of talking, Leon seems satisfied with his daughter's school life and begins to pack up his things to leave. But Arabella becomes upset, running to you and refusing to let go of your leg.
"No! I'm not ready to say bye to Miss (L/N) yet!"
She throws the standard child tantrum, small tears streaming down her reddened puffed out cheeks as you gently try to coax her into letting go.
"Arabella... Don't be upset. You'll see me again on Monday-"
But she's relentless, shaking her head and kicking away Mr. Kennedy's hands as he tries to reach for her.
Eventually, he sighs and looks at you embarrassingly. "I'm so sorry Miss (L/N). She's hardly ever like this."
Seeing as this is something you deal with all the time, you just shake your head, offering a small smile. "Don't worry about it. I'm used to this behavior... I'm about to leave for the day. If you guys want, we could go out for a quick dinner? This way, we won't have to part so soon."
This gets the crying 5-year-old to quiet down almost immediately. She looks up from your leg, tears and snot smeared all over your pant leg. "Really? Can we?"
You look up at Mr. Kennedy, raising a brow for conformation. And, seeing as there was no way around it, he gives in.
And from that moment forward, you and the Kennedy family became quite close.
You shared a few dinners and spent time together at amusement parks and entertainment events, eventually becoming so close that you'd even watch Arabella when Leon had to leave for reasons of his job.
You listen to his stories, and he listens to yours.
He shares how he and Arabella have no one else to depend on. Her mother, although she and Leon didn't have a good relationship, had died during childbirth. And how he'd lost his own parents long ago, growing up an orphan and not having much.
And you share only having your parents. You could have had a little one yourself, but unfortunately grieved a harsh miscarriage and the father of the child leaving soon after didn't help.
You both end up having more in common than you'd originally thought.
And now, you share more than just experiences and memories. Now, you share shy looks and ghostly touches.
Somedays his hand will graze yours and you both will avoid each other's gaze, ignoring the sudden spark that comes when you make contact.
That is until, one night Leon returns from a particularly long job to find you curled up on his living room couch with a book in hand, reading glasses perched on the bridge of your nose.
"Hey, sorry for the long night. Never meant to be gone that long." He shrugs off his leather jacket and throws it over the arm of his second couch.
You eye his fatigued figure for a moment before removing your glasses and putting down your book. "No, it's alright. You know I don't mind, Leon."
Sitting up, you pat the spot next to you on the couch, offering him a seat. "Arabella's upstairs asleep in her room..." He gives a soft grunt and falls on the couch, rubbing the back of his neck while nodding and muttering a 'Good. Thank you.'
Eyes skillfully assessing his behavior, you decide to ask him the question that's been on your mind. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"
He glances at you through his peripheral but instantly looks away. "Yes. I'm fine. You can go now."
In all honesty, the way he suggested you leaving hurt your feelings. But you didn't relent. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to stay..."
Reaching a hand out, you place it on top of his on his lap. He flinches slightly, but doesn't push you away. He pauses for a second...
And then he relaxes, flipping his hand over to wrap it around yours.
Your heart is in your throat and the palms of your hands begin to sweat. But you don't show it, smiling shyly at Leon and holding his hand.
He doesn't look at you. Doesn't show any signs that he acknowledges you besides the fact that he isn't letting go of your hand. "Why do you stay? Why do you want to stay?"
The monotone question catches you off guard. You momentarily freeze as his eyes find you.
Blue frozen glaciers filled with oceans and rivers of pure sadness and regret. The emotion in his eyes makes you briefly wonder where he finds the space for the happiness he feels with Arabella.
Or if he'll have the space for happiness with you.
You take a moment to think, looking down at your linked hands and gliding a thumb over the warmth of his skin. "I feel happiest when I'm here with the two of you. As you know, I don't have much. All I've had to look forward to has been my students... but now... I have the both of you."
You look him in the eyes, trying to convey your emotions through the look in yours. "These past few weeks have been the best I've lived through in years... I'm tired of living alone, Leon. Life is worth so much more when you spend it with somebody else."
He looks at you in shock, not sure what to say about your sudden confession. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, trying to choose the right words to say.
You look away bashfully. "Er- What I'm trying to say is... I'd like it if we could spend... more time together. And see each other more often. But-! It's completely up to you, of course."
For a moment, the silence is nerve wracking. You try not to fidget too much or show that you're anxious in awaiting his answer.
You're beginning to lose hope when Leon's hands are suddenly on your hips.
You're so surprised by his actions that you hardly notice him gently coaxing you into sitting on his lap.
Your legs straddle his thighs, backside rested on his knees when you suddenly notice your position. Your face burns hot, and you rest your hands on his shoulders.
His hands find purchase on your waist. "If I'm being honest, I expected you to leave us a long time ago... I didn't mean to be rude. I just didn't think you'd stay."
He caresses your sides, warm hands heating through the fabric of your clothes. "And... I would like it- a lot if you stayed with us. Not only would you make me happy, but you'd make Arabella happy too. And that matters more than anything."
You pretend to ponder on your decision, looking away with a small smile on your face before turning back to Leon. "Well... I guess I can stick around-"
The sentence barely leaves your lips before Leon pulls you in, kissing you with so much relieved passion that you momentarily feel dizzy.
And for once, you feel like you truly belong somewhere.
Yes. This feeling is definitely one you can get used to.
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Nobody: My inbox screaming and crying for help: 😓😭😭☠️ Me with 0 internet or data: 🧍🏾‍♀️💃📖
Hope you enjoyed!
More requests coming soon!
Requests are open!! <3
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