#none of you know what I’m referencing
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draptorronin · 1 year ago
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The Kyivba, leaving their home world.
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localfanbaselurker · 2 months ago
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I hate when I make a reference to something incredibly niche I saw online in real life and no one gets it I HATE BEING CHRONICALLY ONLINE
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genderless-naper · 1 month ago
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give it your all
trafalgar law x bestfriend!reader
themes: modern college au, best friends, jealousy, confession, wall sex, slight body worship & cockwarming, no protection/pull out, female reader, 18+
after failing an exam, you confessed to law how jealous you were of his natural intelligence. in return, he accidentally reveals how much he wants you.
nsfw, smut, wc: 3k, lowercase intended!
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you walked into your room with frustration radiating off you. you just finished a midterm exam, but none of the topics you studied for was actually on the test. you spent countless hours studying to get a good grade only to be doomed to fail. law was sitting at your desk doing his work. you found him in the same place you left him.
you threw your bag on the floor and crossed your arms. it was enough to catch law’s attention. he continued his work as he spoke up, ���did it go well?”
the annoyance you had built up from starting the exam to getting back to your room was let out all at once, “that professor is such an asshole!! i swear it’s like they’re trying to set us up for failure. nothing they mentioned on the study guide was on the exam. it was talking about topics we didn’t even review in class!”
law placed his pen down, and swirled the chair so he faced your agitated figure, “you’re probably overthinking it. i’m sure you did great. i helped you study a lot last night, and you had all the concepts down.”
you groaned, “you’re not listening. surely i failed that midterm. nothing mentioned in class was on it.”
you rubbed your arm and felt a bit jealous of the man sitting in front of you, “i wish i was naturally smart like you…”
law tried to help you feel better, “don’t say that. you have lots of things going on for you.”
“like what?? failing a midterm i stayed up all night studying for?”
he cleared his throat and put more thoughtfulness into his replies, “it’s just a midterm y/n-ya. don’t beat yourself up about it. also i was mentioning other things your good at.” law paused to think of some of your strengths and virtues, “you’re great with people and super outgoing. you have like every guys on campus wrapped around your finger, and you go on dates all the time.”
you rolled your eyes, “that doesn’t mean anything though. i care more about failing my classes than stupid boys.”
law shrugged, “well it’s not fair in my eyes. i wish i could do that.”
you tilted your head, “you can do that though law. you just need to go out and find people you like talking to.”
“i wasn’t referencing you. i was referencing them.”
confusion led you to ask, “what do you mean by that.”
law answered without thinking through his response at all, “those guys you go on dates with get to have that side of you, and they don’t even realize how lucky they are.”
you paused for a minute to take in what he said. it was an accidental confession that law had no intention of letting out. you held his eye contact in an attempt to find out if he was telling the truth.
after a stretched out silence he cleared his throat, “i didn’t mean to say that. forget about it.”
you raised your brow. how could you just forget about it?
“how about you elaborate on that instead?”
law turned his back to you, trying to focus on the previous work, hoping the situation would disappear on its own. you, on the other hand, wouldn’t let it go so easily.
you walked to his seated figure, and reached over to shut his laptop. you turned his chair back to face you then leaned down while holding the arm wrests. laws golden eyes gazed into your intensively as he tried to understand what your motive was at that moment.
“elaborate.” was all he heard. he found it hard to form a verbal response especially when you pressed him so hard about it. he didn’t quite know what to tell you that also wouldn’t affect the friendship you two have built.
so he didn’t say anything. he kept quiet. you leaned down dangerously close to him while holding his gaze. he sighed in defeat knowing there wasn’t a way to escape you at that point. he decided to speak, partially because he was also over hiding how he felt about you, “it’s not fair that they get to have your interest like that. i’m the one that sits with you every night before your exams to help you study. i’m the one who gets you to do your work when you don’t want to. yet they’re the one’s you’re always interested in. i’m honestly over it y/n.”
law gets up from the chair and packs his things back into his bag. it seemed pointless to stick around anymore. he figured he ruined things enough.
“where do you think you’re going?” you grab his packed bag to throw it back to its original place on the floor. the fact that he thought he could leave after dropping a bomb like that infuriated you, “you don’t just get to do whatever you want to. you’re staying.”
you knew the chances of him actually listening were slim. you were determined to make sure he didn’t leave, so you walk towards him until he’s backed up against the wall.
law started to become mildly irritated. he didn’t understand why you were doing all of this. if you wanted to shame him for what he said then why pull these antics? just as he was about to object against your actions you spoke instead, “why haven’t you ever made a move then?”
law rubbed his temples as he responded, “why does that matter? it’s not like you’re interested anyways. you’re always eyeing other people that aren’t me.”
you immediately dismissed his response, “has the thought ever occurred to you that i probably do that because of you? you’ve never once showed any sign of romantic interest. how could i go after you if i didn’t know you wanted me??”
law’s eyebrows turned knitted as he dissected your statement in his mind. he was certain his ears deceived him, “are you saying..?”
at that point an increase of agitation grew within you. you soon realized that now would be the best time to take action. the likelihood of an opportunity like this happening again are slim. before you could mentally decide your words beat you to it, “do you want me to show you what i mean? clearly it’s too difficult for you to understand with just words.”
the bold statement heightened your heart rate, and could’ve sworn that the tattooed man before you could hear it as well.
it’s always difficult read law’s thoughts on normal circumstances, but right now it was clear to you that he only wanted you.
he let his hands travel and place themselves on your waist. in one swift motion he substituted his position against the wall with yours. before you could realize it was now you who was pressed against the wall. law’s towering golden gaze was fixed on examining you as if you were a research project he was being graded on. you simply knew he was determined to get full marks.
“let me show you instead. i’ve had to keep myself in check for so long just for you.”
you smirked as you pulled his collar down so his face was leveled with yours to respond, “give it your all then trafalgar.”
your green light what the exact thing the man was looking for. although he liked you, more than he’d admit, he never thought about the dirty things he’d do to you. he always suspected it was unlikely to occur.
yet here he was desperate to pull your clothes off like a starving animal.
soon he discarded your garments leaving you exposed to his eyes. the only items obstructing his view were your bra and panties. still the man wasted no time admiring your body. you allowed his hands to roam, to feel, to touch any part he desired. the freedom bestowed upon him anxiously thrilled him.
“you’re so gorgeous y/n, i could stare at you all day long..”
his breath was caught as his eyes were lost in your beauty.
he was unaware of how long he spent just starring at you until he saw that you seemed to be at a state of unease.
he leaned down to press his yearning lips against your collarbone. it was a sweet kiss, but powerful enough to send shivers down your spine.
as he made his way to your shoulder you lean close to his ear to speak, “take everything off already, please law..”
“give me a second to take you in y/n.”
and that’s exactly what he did until your patience for him started to run thin. it felt like fire was erupting off your skin. he was tormenting you with every second he put off.
his hands glided up the natural curve of your spine, and effortlessly unhooked your bra. you let it slip and hit the floor soon, following with your panties, and kicking them to the side.
law’s inked hand made its way to the front of your figure to explore the new region on display. he held your breast with care as he leaned down to lick your bud. he dragged his tongue over and over your nipple feeling it harden from his repeated actions. you rested your head against the wall permitting shallow breaths to leave you. law’s gentle grip eventually turns into grasping motions that squeezed at your tissue. he made sure to give the same attention to the other side by switching back and fourth. moments when he pulls back to catch his breath he whispered how in awe he was of your every minute detail. the praises that fell from his mouth drove your desire for the man to increase making you more impatient by the second.
finally satisfied with your captivating body he put to work with discarding his own clothes. when pulling off his shirt his muscles, inked by tattoos, would naturally flex giving you a show that was irresistible to look away from.
he shared your eye contact as he raised his hand to his mouth to lick his middle and ring finger. he held them together as he sentenced them to please you between your thighs. he placed them above your clit, applying standard pressure, and began to massage in circular motions.
the sudden gasp from your lips indicated to him of the pleasure being received from his fingers.
law chuckled because of your sudden reaction, “i’m barely touching you and you’re acting like this. should i go a bit harder-“ law simultaneously applied the indicated pressure, “or should i go faster y/n?” the man increased his circular haste. asking for your decision meant nothing to him at that moment. it could’ve been considered more of a warning than a question.
you tried your best to not let your moans get the best of you, but it was difficult when your mind could only focus on how good the man’s fingers felt. you hadn’t noticed his member rising with anticipation ready to make you a moaning mess.
law adjusted his motions to reach back and fourth to your hole. realizing his licked figured would ultimately serve no purpose because the wetness you exhibited was far more useful. he used it to his advantage in order to prepare you for what was yet to come.
he spoke in a low tone, “are you ready y/n-ya? lets get to the real fun already.”
you nodded fast agreeing with him. you were unsure how much more torture of the clit you could take before your orgasm engulfed you.
law averted his attention on his own growing discomfort. the member in desperate need of relief appeared swollen at the tip, and veins carved out the sides of his length. law pulled away his fingers from your clit to hooked a singular arm under your leg and keep it lifted. he held the leg up exposing your wet core, and pressed you harder against the wall with his body. his length naturally pressed up against your core, and was barely consumed in your folds.
he shifted his hips back and fourth to drag his member along your heat. he aimed to cover himself in your slick, so entering wouldn’t be such a task, and he could focus on what truly mattered.
you on the other hand was being driven by heightened arousal. you wanted nothing more than to be fucked into oblivion. exasperated from the situation, you decide to take the initiative. you reach to his hard member and position it to your hole. you push yourself down enough to fit the tip in.
the size of his member stretched your entrance more than you expected. he questioned if you were okay only to which you managed a hum. you were too busy biting down your lip to form a proper reply.
he motioned that he would soon start, to which you nod your head giving him another green light.
he passed his member in and through your walls. he felt your walls naturally squeeze his member, and the warmth increasing the blaze on his skin. he watched as you shut your eyes and meekly groan due to the unfamiliar length.
he paused his movements to let you regain your composure. law removed fallen strands of hair and tucked them behind your ear before speaking up, “you’re gonna do great y/n-ya. i’m gonna start, is that okay?” the man waited for your approval, which you happily gave, and started to rock his hips slowly. surely he wanted to pick up his pace, but he wanted you to adjust as well.
law felt unsettlingly sexually attracted to you. the slow pace he set eventually caused him to curse himself out in his mind. he wanted to pound you right then and there, but he just had to be so considerate of you. he figured the best thing to distract his mind, and so he pressed his like against yours. it was the first time he ever kissed you. he never predicted your first kiss would happen after he was balls deep in you.
your lips shared warmth, and it caused your bodies to further align. every slow thrust drew you both into a deeper and more passionate kiss. you two were in a war zone and the kiss served as paradise.
the natural depth of the kiss blurred the lines of sense in law’s mind. without realizing he responded to his body’s natural sexual thirst by feverishly picking up the pace of his hips. you had to pull away to voice out your pleasure through moans. your eyes squeezed themselves shut. he saw the pain, but also the pleasure. his forehead rested on the wall next to your head, and he grunted in your ear like a dog chasing a high that felt so far away.
no more holding him back. he pushed every regressed emotion felt into his thrusts. they hit you harshly like the force of a tsunami. at that moment you fully realized just how much law was holding back just for the sake of the friendship, and how much he simply didn’t care anymore.
the constant sensation of his member grazing your walls edged you closer to your climax, “fuck law, you feel so fucking good~”
his name rolling off your tongue in moans made him feel cockier than he should’ve been. the man that once dreamt of you every night that week was finally getting what he wanted. he wasn’t going to let any moment fleet away from him.
his thrusts, now set at a monstrous pace, forced you to your orgasm faster than you’d anticipated. your nails dug into his skin, and you vocalized your pleasure through your moans. although it was clear you had reached your goal and had no more reason for the continuous pace, law had no intention of stopping. law growled into your ear, “why do you feel so fucking good y/n~?”
he didn’t miss a beat. that is until he climax snapped like a twig. his white substance launched into you, and filled you up leaving you warm from within. it took a while for you to the catch your breaths. the sweat caused by the shared experience made you both feel sticky. you spoke up once you felt like you were no longer desperate for oxygen, “are you gonna pull out..?”
law looked at you through half-lidded eyes. it was clear his orgasm exhausted him. his own words felt like they blurred together, “just forget about it for now…” he kept his member fully inserted in your warm heat.
he used the last of his efforts to pick up your other leg. he carried you to your bed, and you both collapsed onto it. not once did his member withdraw from within you.the natural exhaustion you felt led you to doze off instantly. law was on the verge of following you before he was taken out of his own conscious.
the sound of a notification popping on your phone alerted him. he reached over and grabbed the phone to read what it was.
your midterm grade results had came back. curious of your results, law input your password in to check the grade. he smiled at the green box holding the ‘93%’ in it. he was glad to know you would wake up with good news.
he put the phone back down and tiredly whispered to your sleeping figure, “i told you that you would do well…”
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merowkittie · 3 months ago
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Hiii idk if you are still taking requests but Poolverine has taken over MY LIFE haha I would die for a Logan/Wade/Reader where they just worship their tiny lil mutant gf who could 100% kick their asses if she wanted to
hi hii!! i’m always taking requests, as long as my pinned post says ‘requests are open’!
poolverine has taken over my entire being i fear.
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Lil Ass Kicker — DP & WV
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summary: due to ur size most of the time sometimes people under estimate how strong you truly are. besides your boyfriends; they like when you remind them <3
warnings: none besides canon typical violence =] !
notes: i didn't specify if reader had specific mutant abilities..maybe i'll come up with a specific one laterr for future fics / hopefully this meets ur expectations, enjoy!
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at this point, you didn't get offended when people looked at your stature and thought you were some weak tiny human, when in reality you were just as strong as Logan.. maybe even stronger?
you could kick a grown mans ass in seconds! your boyfriends have witnessed it AND have been on the receiving end before. and lets just say,
they LOVE it.
"ohh, come on peanut!" wade yells from your far left in a somewhat disappointed tone, "I'll admit you look hot but that's just disgusting."
you'll admit this wasn't the prettiest site, even though wade just called you sexy. you were sweaty, kind of covered in blood, and had just broken a mans arm and was using it to make him punch himself in his face. it was very amusing to you until wade burst your bubble.
with a roll of your eyes and the slightest quirk of your lips tugging up in the corners you tossed the man to the side and skipped over to logan who was almost covered in blood completely; his knuckles were basically dyed red from his claws coming in and out and with the blood of half of the people he stabbed..
you guys were an odd trio, but you worked!
"looks like yer having fun, huh?" logan looked down at you with a smirk.
he can also admit that you look beautiful right now sweaty and kicking ass left and right. he'd definitely show you how much he enjoyed witnessing this when you three got home.
you nodded in response to his question humming out an "mhm".
once wade caught up to you two, you guys began to wrap up your mission. it went by in a flash with constant grunts, bodies hitting the floors, gun shots, and to many bones breaking.
yea it was a bit over the top but hey! wade wanted to be a 'good' guy today so this is the schedule! what wasn't on the schedule was watching wade get impaled in the head by his own katana.
logan was too busy fighting to come over and give wade a hand so you had to take matters into your own hands.
silently, you snuck over to where he was and took the guy who impaled your boyfriend by surprise. your elbow reeled forward and hit him in the back the head, causing him to stumble. quickly, your leg swept his feet from under him causing him to trip over his own two feet. right before he fell, you took your gun from it's holster on your thigh and shot him in the head just as he hit the floor.
"oh god, i'm so painfully hard right now, babe." wade's voice chimed in from the floor. he still had the katana sticking through his head and you could tell he was feeling that loopy effect of it right now.
with a sigh, you helped him to his feet and yanked the katana out of his head. he shook his head side to side and groaned at the feeling of it being pulled out.
"thank you my incredibly strong, beautiful, and tiny girlfriend." he made kissy noises from underneath his masks, wanting you to kiss him over it. with a bit of a grimace you stood on your toes and pressed a quick kiss over his lips.
"wha' about me?" logan said from behind you, referencing to the kiss.
with an exaggerated groan and playful stomps of your feet you turned around him and gave him a kiss too.
"I hope you guys know this is very unprofessional!" you shouted as you walked away from the two with a huff.
they were definitely going to show you how in love they were with you when you got home.
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beneathashadytree · 4 months ago
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from the same authors of "do you think zayne cum is cold?" we also have: do you think xavier cum shine in the dark, or that he shines when he comes (like that blonde female character from the boys, that i forgot the name)?
I know you are only message fics for now and i dont know if something like this would fit that format, but if you can i would love to read anything about this ♡
I’m gonna be honest with you nonnie, I’m VERY out of touch with modern media (I’ve watched like. 4 series in my entire life and a total of like 20 movies all in all) so I have no idea what you’ve just referenced, BUTTTT I do believe I have an answer to your question!! Of course this is all based off my silly headcanons, so take my opinion with a grain of salt🙏🏽 Of course, this is pretty NSFW, and the reader is gender-neutral as always!
To anyone else reading this, my requests are still closed!! These are just my ramblings, or old requests I had🫶🏽
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Metaphorically speaking, Xavier’s cum is pretty much lighter fluid
In the sense that this man’s diet is absolutely disastrous… can a person even live on an almost-purely-carnivorous diet???
Naturally that makes his cum a lot more bitter than it normally would be, so unless his lover wants to choke on battery acid every time they swallow his cum, they ought to sit down with him and have a few serious conversations regarding sex vs food
Either he pulls out of their mouth before he cums when they’re sucking him off, or he gets a little more greens in him in order to improve his own taste… fair enough, I would think!
Xavier doesn’t really mind; after all, he’s still eating lots of red meat, he just now balances that out with more fruits and veggies… and he still gets the overwhelming pleasure of watching his partner swallow his release with a much more pleased hum than they ever did, their thumb reaching out to catch any drops that spill out of the corner of their mouth
It drives him half mad, but he guesses that’s a small price to pay
Now that we’ve got the metaphorical part out of the way, let’s get to this interesting point: does he, or does he not glow when he climaxes?
I wouldn’t say that his cum glows, because if it did, I think his other bodily fluids would too
From a fictional anatomical standpoint, I highly doubt that his lover wouldn’t notice if his saliva had a bit of a glow (something they’d surely notice while making out or having a hearty meal, for example)
So I do believe his cum is as normal as normal could be for a man like him
I do believe, though, since he’s not 100% human (or, at the very least, not from Earth) that doesn’t mean he’s fully normal
I think that he would have abnormally thick cum, and I would assume that that has to do with his biological make-up
Given how people from Philos lead extremely long lives (given Xavier’s age, I’d give them a lifespan of 500+), and given how literally none of the characters from Philos have any siblings, I think it would be safe to assume that their seed isn’t very potent to start with
So if a person will live half a millennium and be able to have just 1 kid their entire life, I do believe that their cum would be stickier and thicker in order to have a higher chance of “taking” by not spilling out immediately
So I honestly think that Xavier’s cum is genetically modified for breeding purposes
And regardless of whether or not his significant other has the ability to become pregnant and/or even wants it at all, his brain has him wired to have a bit of a breeding kink that he can’t even help
But of course, he’ll always listen to and respect his partner’s wishes!
One thing I’ve noticed about Xavier, however, is that his eyes tend to lose their shine when he’s being forward and open about his sexual desires
He’s putty in his lover’s hands, yes, but once he takes control? Those angel eyes have a very intentional purpose, and he’s making that message come across loud and clear
Like a turbulent ocean, deep and all-consuming, his gaze leaves no doubts about what he wants
Now, here’s my headcanon: I like to think that when he’s close, his eyes get their shine back; so much so that they would be mistaken for tears
Maybe it’s the emotional attachment to the person he’s yearned for all these years, maybe it’s because of his own EVOL making its appearance
But for some reason, as he begins to lose control, his eyes do shine quite a bit, almost like freshly-cut sparkling sapphires
It’s quite dazzling and a bit surprising to witness for the first time, since Xavier doesn’t usually exhibit non-human behavior
But it makes that seraphic face seem all the more otherworldly; the contrast between how beautiful he is and how downright filthy his actions can be when he’s buried to the hilt inside them makes their head spin
After he’s spilled inside them amidst soft sighs and sweet moans, his eyes do go back to normal after a few seconds of closing them in bliss, so they might miss it if they’re not paying close attention
Kind of hard to look away though, when your lover looks like that
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madschiavelique · 1 year ago
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you know those perfumes that are supposed to be based on “pheromones” or whatever that are supposed to make you more attractive?
imagine that… with Miguel… who already has extra sensitive smell… I’m just— 😳
OMG anon i TOTALLY see what u referenced right here. the man will be on his knees
summary ➤ you got one of these pheromones perfumes that went viral and Miguel notices it pairing ➤ miguel x gender neutral reader
content warnings ➤ none in particular, just miggy sniffing u word count ➤ 841
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You had seen some reels on instagram or some tik toks where lots of people, especially women, were trying on these perfumes with pheromones, and you'd managed to get hold of one of these famous things out of sheer curiosity. You examined it a little, wondering what effect it might give, then decided why not give it a try? After all, that's what it was created for. So you applied it to basic heat points, focusing on your wrists, the inside of your elbows and, of course, your neck. Determining for yourself whether it worked was impossible, you needed someone else to try this, so you simply wandered around the society as you would do on the basis, a few glances turning towards you as you strolled to Miguel's office. You entered the office as if nothing had happened, making your way to the platform where Miguel was silhouetted in his usual busy-man way. Most of the spiders in society had a keen sense of smell, as did you, but this scent was designed to attract the noses of a targeted audience, so you wondered how he would react. "Hi gorgeous," you smiled, the platform slightly raised just three meters above you as you walked towards it. He did not even turn around, his eyes deeply anchored on his holopad and mind burried in work, mumbling all the same as you came within a few steps of the platform, stopping in your tracks: "Hey cariño,” he sighed, sliding something from one holopad to the other, “how are-" But he immediately stops his sentence, and you can hear him inhaling a sharp but short breath. You smile, he noticed really quickly. He pivoted slightly on the side, showing you his profile, eyebrows furrowed, sniffing again a little more slowly, his chest swells as his lungs fill with the slightest ounce of it. His head turns to yours on the spot, his eyes immediately landing on yours. "What's that?" Touché. He'd taken the bait, and hard. He turned fully towards you, beginning the descent from the platform. "What's what?" you asked, concealing your excitement incredibly well, as if the questioning made you genuinely confused as you pulled every string of your web to perfection for your little prey to get stuck. He didn't even wait until the platform was completely ashore before stepping off, pressing the pace towards you. "That," he repeated, his eyebrows furrowing as each step closer to you made him smell that inebriating scent. "What do you mean 'that'?" you say, a little laugh that's half confused and half amused taking hold of you. "You changed something," he said, fluttering his eyes as he finally reached your height and the smell became more and more powerful.
Once he was close enough to you, he closed his eyes, taking another deep breath as he opened them again the next second. Is it you, or has his pupil dilated? He took hold of your wrist, bringing it close to his lips and smelling the perfume on it, pressing his nose against your skin until it wrinkled and closing his eyes tightly just to be poisoned by the smell that seemed so exceptional. He opened his eyelids again, a slight tinge of red beginning to take hold of his irises. He gave you a look of new interest, lips parted as his eyes locked on yours. "Did you... buy a new lotion?" You let out a little breath of laugh from your nose, pretending not to understand a single thing he was saying. Most of the spiders in society had a keen sense of smell, as did you, but this scent was designed to attract the noses of a targeted audience, so you wondered how he would react.
"'No? What's the matter?" you ask as he listens intently, "What's changed?"
He stepped closer, his body towering over you as he tilted his head, bringing you face to face with him. Yeah, his pupils were truly dilated.
"There's something new, you..." he seemed to consider his words for a moment as he inhaled, moistening his lips, "smell different."
He came to smell your cheek, the skin of his nose brushing against yours and sending little shivers down your spine.
"Really?" you asked, smiling softly. You weren't regretting this discovery at all, and Miguel seemed to be of the same opinion. "How so?"
His eyelashes placed butterfly kisses on your cheek as he moved down a little further into the crook of your neck, the sensation of his breath spreading over your warm, scented skin sending little tingles up the back of your skull.
"It's..." he breathed, coming to place his hand previously on your wrist at the small of your back and pulling you towards him to get closer, "intoxicating."
You felt the warmth of his lips kiss tenderly down your neck, the distinct sensation of his canines tracing the warm skin of it as he let out a sigh.
"Lyla," he grunted against your skin, "Lock the door please."
Definitely a good investment.
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leighsartworks216 · 1 year ago
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First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
Consolidating all of my Astarion fics here (and if I end up writing for anyone else it will also go here)
Main Masterlist
Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
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Astarion
I Come With Knives Masterlist - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: This fic deals with a lot of heavy themes. Read warnings on fic
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In The Moonlight - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: Cazador, mentions of past abuse, mentions of biting, vague implications of sex, like one swear
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My Sunshine - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: alcohol use, swearing, grief/mourning, blood, injury, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort
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All The Gentle Things - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: referenced blood sucking, touch-starved Astarion
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For A Cuddle? - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: mentions of dried blood, referenced blood drinking and hunting
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My Moonlight (Part 2 to My Sunshine) - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: Blood, grief, anxiety, nausea, hurt/comfort. READ FULL CW LIST ON POST
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I’m All Yours - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: none
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To Touch You - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: touch-adverse descriptions of touch, hurt/comfort themes
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Designated Lockpicker - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: one swear word, reference to Astarion’s past abuse, mention of a terrible texture, innuendos
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Dear Pet (AO3 only) - Astarion x Tav/Reader
SMUT Warnings: slight overstimulation, choking, blood drinking
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You Hate Me - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: swearing, descriptions of joint pain, insecurity, crying, possibly OOC, clown mention
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The Sound of Being Loved - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: some hurt/comfort, talk about The Scar™️
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In Your Silence (I Hear You) - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: going through a busy crowd, brief mention of nails digging into skin, some sensory issues (touch, sound)
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I’ve Got You - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: fever, fever chills
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I Love You - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
SMUT Warnings: non-descriptive sex, dealing with trauma, swearing, love confessions
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You Have A Type, Don’t You? - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: innuendos, minor references to sex, the barest hints of jealousy
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Shut Up - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: swearing, anger
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Thank You - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: alcohol use
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A Cruel Trick - AO3 - Astarion & gn!Tav
Warnings: angst, blood, injury, references to past abuse, open-ended
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Aftercare - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: barest hint of possible angst if you squint, references to sex
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Get Up Goddamn You! - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: death, blood, heavy angst, swearing, bittersweet ending
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Naked But Safe - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: non-consensual undressing (by Raphael), slight arguing, swearing, trauma
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Every Time I Make Love In Your Shape, You Will Know - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: This fic has themes of rape and non-con. Read warnings on fic
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Fondness In Your Eyes - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: none
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To Ease Your Burden - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: chronic pain
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You Are Full Of Surprises, Aren’t You? - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: knife throwing, height difference
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What He Wants - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: sex mentions, references to past abuse/trauma, loss of sense of self
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Your Stupid Face - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: self-doubt, bickering
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Don’t You Dare (Make Me Fall In Love With You) - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: manipulation
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You Sweet Thing - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: swearing, scratching
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Kisses Like Prayers - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: none
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You Can Take It - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
SMUT Warnings: overstimulation, swearing, crying
Fem and Masc versions on AO3
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May I Kiss You? - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: none
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You Deserve It - AO3 - Astarion x male!Tav/Reader
SMUT Warnings: swearing, references to sexual trauma
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I Want Nothing More - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: making out, grinding, swearing, references to voyeurism
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It's A Gift - AO3 - Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader
Warnings: vague references to trauma, self-doubt, swearing
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Rises The Moon - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: panic attack, ugly crying, protective Astarion
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Are You Sure You Want This? - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: nervousness
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Small Hands - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: references to violence, swearing, hurt/comfort
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I Will Always Choose You - AO3 - Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader (can be read as gn)
Warnings: fear of abandonment, alcohol/drinking, swearing
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Acid - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: descriptions of chemical/acid burns, descriptions of acid burning flesh, swearing, panicking, pain, blindness
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The Rescue of Magistrate Ancunin - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav (can be read as platonic or romantic)
Warnings: blood, injury, fear of death, descriptions of dying, swearing, descriptions of pain, angst
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Song Bird - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: references to sex, anxiety
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692 notes · View notes
callahanisms · 1 year ago
Text
a fair trade
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pairing: miguel o’hara x gender neutral! reader
word count: 1,010 words
ao3 link: 🕷️🕷️🕷️
summary: your help is needed to defeat a multiversal entity, one that you’ve defeated before. but what can miguel offer in return for your service?
notes: kind of mishmashing the movies and comics together. do not fret if you haven’t read any of them! it’s mostly just referenced (much like how it was referenced in the last post). the fic on ao3 is also locked to registered ao3 users only. it’s a precaution i’m taking in response to ai using ao3 fics to be trained.
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“(Y/N), we need your help.”
“Miguel, I’m in the middle of eating lunch. Because, you know, I didn’t have breakfast.”
“That’s on you.”
“Some of us don’t like breakfast.”
“Okay that’s not the point! The point is that we need your help!”
You were just sitting at your table, peacefully. After a mission earlier today, you thought you enjoyed a nice break. All you’ve been doing is going on missions across the multiverse, at the expense of your personal life back home. Your friends missed you and were constantly wondering why you would dip all of a sudden. After all, it wasn’t like you to just...cancel last minute. You loved your friends. You always made sure to be there. What you didn’t expect when accepting Miguel’s invitation was to be worked constantly. There was always a multiversal threat at stake, even for something small.
You were literally the local expert on the multiverse. Small things wouldn’t cause catastrophe. But Miguel believed they would. He believed in a domino effect. You believed that it was necessary to stay vigilant but not every small thing required attention. Sometimes the multiverse acted weird. It was a multiverse. It acted on its own accords.
“Miguel, is it actually something to worry about? Or is it something like the Vulture ended up in the wrong reality which can be cleaned up without my help?” You took a sip of your drink.
“It’s someone by the name of Verna. And she’s brought with her an army.”
“Verna? Never heard of her.” You shake your head.
“Really? She claims she’s fought you before.”
“If I saw a picture, then maybe I would recognize her.”
Miguel doesn’t hesitate. “Lyla.”
Part of you wondered what it would be like if your name was always on the tip of his tongue, ready to speak on a moment’s notice. You always wanted someone who could say your name with such ease, who thought of you constantly.
“Already on it.” Lyla pulls up a video. “This is live footage of the whole thing. We’re lucky she hasn’t spread her destruction further.”
As you were taking a sip of your drink, you choked on the liquid. Thankfully, you did not die. “We need you alive (Y/N).” Miguel says.
“I thought I banished her to the ends of the Multiverse!” You exclaimed.
“So you have fought her?” Lyla questions. “Was this the multiversal being you battled before?”
“She’s the reason I have no magic!” You crush the metal cup in your hand. “It took everything for me to banish her! And she just comes...comes back like nothing happened?” You squint a little. “She also looks a lot different than I remember. You said her name was Verna?” Lyla and Miguel look at each other before nodding. “She went by a different name. Called herself the Matriarch of...something. I don’t remember.”
“All the more reason for you to finish up and join us.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“I lost my appetite.” You picked up the dishes and cleaned out the plates, dropping them off with the conveyor belt of dirty dishes. “You owe me Miguel.”
“Owe you what?”
“A break. Like a real break. My body needs to properly recuperate, you know.”
He inputs the numbers and opens the portal. “I can do that. You’ve done good work so far.”
“Exactly. Not getting paid here.”
“None of us get paid.”
“It was a joke. You know, Peter was right. You’re like the only one of us that isn’t funny.”
“That’s hilarious.” His voice did not change in tone and his facial expressions did not give away that he was humored.
“Lighten up a little. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re extra stoic because you want to kiss me.”
“I do not want to kiss you.”
“Everyone wants to kiss me.”
He looks at you, eyebrow slightly raised. “You should pay me in kisses actually. Think that’d be a fair deal. I help you guys stop Verna, again, and I get a kiss. It’d be the perfect reward.”
You feel his gaze on you. “It’s a joke, I promise. You don’t have to actually.” Even if you did want to kiss him.
He takes a step towards you, much to your surprise. His hand reaches up, fingers curled slightly, and his knuckles graze the skin of your cheeks. It’s reassuring in a way and his touch is gentle. It reminds you of when you first joined, how his fingers gently wiped away the crumbs at your face. His hand uncurls and cups your face. “How badly do you want a kiss?” He asks.
His voice made your legs shake. “If I answered that I think you’d make fun of me.”
“I mean...it’s a simple yes or no question.”
“Yes?”
You weren’t expecting his lips to crash against yours. The sheer force almost causes you to fall over and your hands fumble to grip onto his body. You could feel his muscles flex beneath his suit. You kiss him back, but most certainly not with the same amount of force he does. Miguel even goes as far to nip your bottom lip, causing a small gasp to emerge from your throat. It was a little embarrassing and your cheeks grew warm. He pulls away, satisfied and with that cocky smirk on his face.
“Make it back alive and I’ll give you another.” He puts his mask on. “Maybe even more.”
“You...have a lot of confidence that I will.” You were out of breath. Very much out of breath.
“You’ve beaten the odds before. It’s part of who we are.”
Miguel walks through the portal and you clench your hands for a few seconds. You were nervous. It wasn’t just the kiss that made you nervous (though your heart certainly was pumping for that reason primarily). Lyla looked at you with a smile. “You better come back. Or else I’ll lose the primary thing I make fun of him for.”
“I’ll try Lyla. For you.”
“Sure, sure. Now get going before people die.”
2K notes · View notes
trippinsorrows · 4 months ago
Text
looking through your eyes + eight
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authors note: so....i like cliched shit, so there's some of that here. hope it's not too much. this one is also very heavy at points, so please read the warnings, but it def has its moments that help progress the plot. also, the book referenced is a real work that we often use in therapy with survivors of sexual trauma. an excellent, powerfully healing read. i own neither the book nor the excerpt used.
if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!
cw/tw: references to csa, aftermath of csa, character being triggered, scene of violence/torture, fluff, angst, language, and suggestive themes
song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes
masterlist
words: 12k (i clearly don't know how to stop. it is what it is)
It's out of our hands We can't stop what we have begun
---Leann Rimes
“Clarke.”
There’s a heavy sigh followed by continued writing, icy blue eyes focused on the report before her instead of the irksome man before her, no doubt giving her those ‘fuck me’ eyes that would be an HR nightmare if HR actually did any fucking thing at this precinct.
She finishes her quote before asking with all the intentional disinterest, “what do you want, Reed?”
His question, as well as his intrusion by her desk, is expected. “why aren’t you joining the rest of us for the luncheon today?”
It’s none of his business, and Danica has no issues telling him that in intentionally vague terms. “Got somewhere to be.” 
Finally looking up, she sees Reed’s gaze go cold. “Where?”
Danica drops her pin and answers in the sweetest yet nastiest voice she can muster before 10am. “Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but the Miller girl is being released from the hospital today.”
Reed is just as confused as he is stupid. “Who?”
His obtuseness shouldn’t surprise nor irritate her, but it does. She remembers every single case she’s ever worked, and she’s certain this one will always remain at the top of the list. No matter how far she gets into her career. “Solana Miller. Xavier Miller’s daughter. The home invasion—”
“I know.” Reed’s almost relaxed, nosy disposition has entirely shifted. “Captain said the case was closed. Kid doesn’t want to press charges.”
“That kid is fucking traumatized. Don’t put that on her. Xavier is the one refusing to let us proceed.”
Reed leans forward, harshly whispering, “keep your fucking voice down, alright? Miller is…..he’s not someone you want to piss off. If he says we don’t run it, then we don’t run it, got it?”
“And who the hell is he to decide how the law works?” Clarke is also leaned over her desk, almost a month worth of pent up frustration with the lack of justice bubbling to the surface. “You read that medical report. You were on the scene. You don’t beat a grown man the way they beat that little girl. She could barely fucking walked. Dragged herself to a neighbors to ask for help. It’s a miracle she’s still alive.”
“But she is, okay?” He’s also matching her energy, just as passionate about blatant injustice as she is for said justice. “The best thing to do for that kid is to let her go home, heal, and move on with her life.”
And that’s the part that almost breaks her, that almost makes her shift from her role as an advocate to the survivor within that so deeply identifies with Solana.“You really think it’s that simple? Like she can just go back into the house where she was raped and almost killed and pretend like nothing happened?”
“No, I don’t know, Clarke, and quite frankly, I don’t care. I’m moving on and picking my battles wisely.” His voice switches to something ominous. “And if you knew what was good for you, you’d move on too.”
Aware of the underlying implications of his warning, she calls his bluff, “you threatening me?”
“Believe it or not, I actually do like you, Danica, but you’re playing a dangerous game.” Reed’s voice lowers again, and Danica almost feels like he’s trying to be genuine. “I know you’re still new around here, so let me give some free advice. Xavier Miller is a dangerous man. He’s got friends in places you don’t want to find out about. Leave this alone before you’re the next mutilated body we find floating in the river, alright?”
________
Danica Clarke has always been stubborn, a trait she’s certain will lead to her demise, but if this is the route that brings her to said demise, she’s okay with it. 
Danica waits in the doorway, aware of how knocking can be alarming. She waits and assesses for the moment Solana’s gaze is close enough to where she won’t be as startled. “Hey there, pretty girl….”
Sure enough, Solana jumps a bit, and Danica is pleased to see the swelling on her face has gone down tremendously and the bruising has started to fade to an almost flesh toned color. She looks less at death’s door than the first time Danica was introduced to the 12-year-old.
“Can I come in?”
As expected, Solana doesn’t say anything, just nods quietly. 
Danica moves to sit in the chair on the side of the bed. “Heard you were getting released today….” Danica studies Solana carefully, adding kindly, “may be kinda nice to have a change of scenery.”
Solana remains quiet, but Danica has been around enough survivors, remembers her own survivor story, to know that nothing feels nice or good in the immediate aftermath. There’s just numbness and pain. No in-between.
“I’m so sorry there’s nothing more I can do to help you, Solana. I really am.” And she means that with every fiber of her being. “You didn’t deserve this. You deserve justice, and I wish there was more I could do, but….my hands are tied.” Danica’s only been at this precinct for less than six months, and while asking to be transferred won’t be a good look when evaluations roll around, she doesn’t give a fuck. She can’t serve with bastards who would let sick fucks like Solana’s attackers walk around freely. 
It’s too repulsive.
“But, I do…..I want to give you something.” Danica reaches into her backpack and pulls out something she hasn’t had to look at in years. A book, thick, with yellow, paperback binding. The edges are a bit worn, and certain parts are highlighted, but it’s still just as powerful nonetheless. “When I was….a little younger than you, I was raped too.” Danica sees Solana’s gaze lift up, surprise and shock written on her face. “And it wasn’t until I was a freshman in college that I started to heal and finally process what’d happened to me.” Danica’s lips press together. “The counselor I saw in college, she gave me this book, and it changed my life.”
Solana looks down, reading the title, typed in big, black letters: The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse.
“I wanna read something out of it for you, if that’s alright?” Consent, especially now, is everything, so Danica waits patiently for Solana again to nod, permitting her permission to read. 
With a deep breath to also prepare herself for revisiting the past, she begins reading a passage that Solana can see she has highlighted. 
“I know you're in a world of pain, but that pain will lessen. At the beginning you can't see that. You can only see your pain and you think it will never go away. But the nature of pain is that it changes— it changes like a sunset. At first, it's this intense red-orange in the sky, and then it starts getting softer and soften. The texture of pain changes as you work through it. And then one day, you wake up and realize that life isn't just about working through your abuse; it's about living, too.”
Danica looks up to see Solana sniffling, wiping at her eyes. She’s tempted to reach and take her hand, but she also knows better, knows that the last thing this child wants is to be touched.
“I want you to have this, Solana. I want you to take it, and when you’re older, when you’re ready to reclaim your voice, and you will, I want you to read every word in here. From cover to back cover. You’re gonna be okay, sweetie. You don’t feel it now, but you have to believe it.” Her eyes gloss over. “Don’t ever stop living, Solana.”
“Solana.”
Flashbacks and memories from that time of her life don’t happen often, and it’s an intentional thing on Solana’s part.
She doesn’t like thinking about that part, but this certain memory has now revisited her a total of three times now. Twice in a dream and now in the middle of a conversation with Bayley and Naomi.
That…..that can’t be a coincidence.
“I’m sorry.” Apologizing seems like the most appropriate thing until Naomi shakes her head.
“Roman said we’re not supposed to accept or condone you apologizing for anything, so imma pretend like I didn’t hear that, sis.” 
Roman….
He confuses her. 
He’s certainly unlike any man she’s ever met. And though that number is far from generous, he’s still the anomaly. 
After essentially rejecting what was an….interesting, unfamiliar, different experience between the two of them, she expected him to be upset. To be frustrated. To be absolutely all over her baggage. To ignore her.
But, that’s not what happened, none of that has happened. Instead, he’s carried on like nothing happened, like she didn’t run away from him in near tears. 
Like they didn’t….like they didn’t almost have a moment.
He’s stayed true to his word in that he’s met her every day after work in the week that’s passed. And while the first day was awkward, mostly on her part, they’ve fallen back in that same confusing yet peaceful space. 
Confusing yet peaceful…that seems to be the theme since the day she said “I do.”
It’s not uncomfortable nor unpreferred over where she came from.
It’s just…..different. 
“Oh—okay.” Solana doesn’t know what else to say but notices that Naomi looks like she has something else to say but is hesitant. “Is—is everything okay?”
That seems to be the door that paves the way for said conversation.  “I’ve been thinking. You’ve come a long way. Like, you’ve really got the basics down, all the defensive positions, even fluidity of movement.” It’s leading up to something, Solana is certain of this, but it also means a lot to her that Naomi believes she’s progressed. Doing well with this or even retaining Naomi’s training is something she never saw for herself. “I want to advance you to learning attacks. Solana’s stomach starts to tighten. “With weapons.”
And there it is.
Solana winces. “Weapons?”
Bayley sighs, joining in to help Naomi present her case. “We wanna teach you how to use knives.” Solana’s stomach tightening quickly morphs into twists and knots. “Hear me out, please. I know….I know that’s gotta be a sensitive thing for you, and I totally understand why, but knife fighting is a really great skill to have, even if just to have one on you at all times and know how to use it if need be.”
“And let’s be honest, Roman isn’t going to let anything happen to you to where you would need it, but still.” Something tells Solana Naomi isn’t wrong about that. That neither woman is wrong in what they’re saying, but just the conversation brings back flashes of that night, the night that left the physical and mental scars she still bears now.
Bayley offers a sympathetic smile. “Just think about it, okay?” Solana can do that. She will do that, just….maybe not right now.
And she doesn’t have to because Roman and the twins suddenly enter the gym space. Solana’s stomach tightens seeing Roman shirtless, a sight that’s happened a couple times now, and each time doesn’t seem to make it any easier on her nerves. If anything, it gets worse.
“Whassup, ladies.” Jey greets, clapping his hands as he asks, “ya’ll ready for tonight?”
“Tonight?” Solana speaks up, not directing her question to anyone in particular, but Bayley is the one to answer. “What—what’s tonight?”
“Night of Champions.” She then goes on to explain. “It’s one of our annual wrestling events. Naomi and I are competing.”
Curious, Solana turns to Roman. “Are you fighting?” 
Jimmy, however, is the one to answer. “Soso, Big Dog don’t do these events no more. Not very often anyway, but he’ll be there.”
“Can I come?” Solana directs her question to Roman, knowing that it will be his call. He eyes her unexpectedly. 
“You want to?”
She nods, referring to the group. “I—I wanna see them fight.”
It also feels like the right thing to do, to support the two women who’ve been nothing but supportive of her since day one. Even Jimmy and Jey with their often inappropriate comments about her body and continuous praise over her cooking abilities. It’s still always been very respectful in a strange sort of way.
Roman steps towards her, and Solana finds that it takes a concentrated effort to keep her eyes on his and to not gaze downward. Him being shirtless before her doesn’t help with the attraction she’s still trying to wrap her head around and navigate. 
He lowers his voice, asking, “you sure?”
She’s confused only for a second when she remembers why he seems to be ensuring this is what she wants. This will be the first time Solana has returned to the Warehouse since Grayson and Austin’s attack, since she caused a whole scene that resulted in the whole damn place being shut down and Roman sending a grim message to all.
For a second, she backs away, retreats from her initial desire. Briefly tells herself that this isn’t what she wants, but that other distant voice in the back of her head, not as present or loud, seems to win the battle this time around.
“Yes,” is the final answer she settles on. “I’ll be fine.”
Roman nods, informing. “We leave at 6:30.”
Solana starts to wonder about what this night could entail when Jey suddenly expresses, “It’s kinda nice outside. I think I’m gonna go for a swim. Get in that aquatic cardio.” 
Jimmy also cosigns this after sharing a quick kiss with Naomi. “Oh shit, yeah, lets’ do it
Roman is instantly annoyed, asking with all of the exasperation. “Don’t ya’ll have a pool at your houses?”
“Yeah, but yours is nicer.” Jimmy answers like it’s the simplest thing in the world. He then looks over at Solana, asking, “you joining us, Soso?”
And that, not the idea of returning to the place where she was almost attacked, is what brings on the heavier anxiety. Once upon a time, Solana loved the pool. Swimming with her mom on hot, summer scorching days used to be some of her favorite memories. Now, those memories are plagued with flashbacks of being held under water, a form of torture implemented by her brother.
“N–no.” Solana catches Roman’s gaze on her, the way his eyes dip to her running her fingers against the sides of her workout pants. “I—ummm—I’m going into work for a little bit today, so I should get ready to go.”
Roman speaks up first, skeptical.  “I didn’t know you were going in today.”
“I have to take care of something.”
Solana being vague is new, it’s unfamiliar, and it doesn’t feel the best to lie to him in a sense. Even if it’s less a lie and more a vague answer. 
There is something she needs to take care of. She just has no desire or even ability to tell him just what she needs to take care of, because that would mean she has to tell him the why, and that is something she’s never discussed with anyone and has no desire ever to.
________
Dear Mom,
I’m sorry I haven’t written you as much. Life has been….very confusing and different, but not bad. I think….I think I like living here.
I like Bayley and Naomi. They’re so nice to me. I think you would like them too. Bayley is Mexican, so we talk in Spanish sometimes, and I love that because it reminds me of us, mama, all our conversations and writings.
Jimmy and Jey, Roman’s cousins, make me laugh. They’re also nice to me, and they really like my cooking, your cooking. I still use a lot of the recipes you taught me.
I finally have a dog, mami! Her name is Dulce. She’s so sweet and little and adorable. Roman got her for me. 
Roman…
He’s not what I expected. I don’t….I don’t understand why he’s nice to me. Cause that’s what it is. That much I’ve finally realized. He’s….nice to me. 
I’ve never had a man be nice to me. 
We had….something happen a week ago. I still don’t really know how to describe it, just that he was touching me, not even inappropriately. And I think…..I think I liked it, but then I got scared because it was like….it was like it wasn’t him touching me. It was them. 
And I….I hate that. I hate it because it’s miserable feeling this way. Wanting something but not wanting it. Being scared of something but wanting it. Desiring to be close to someone but not wanting that either.
I feel so torn sometimes. 
I’ve been thinking a lot about that book the detective gave me after it happened. There’s gotta be a reason I kept it all these years. I think….I think I want to read it.
I don’t know what to expect, and I’m nervous because I don’t like thinking about it, but I can’t, I don’t, want to keep living like this.
I can’t.
________
When Solana asked to attend Night of Champions, she was thinking it would be similar to WarGames. A foolish assumption. It is in the sense that the arena area is packed, not a single seat unoccupied, the boisterous sound of loud chatter and music serving as a backdrop against said chatter. That’s all the same and unchanged.
What is different and what Solana should have thought about was the fact that the two women who made her feel so comfortable last time won’t be there this time, because they’re competing. And so are the twins. 
And Nicki is apparently upset with Jey—a recurrent theme, it seems—so she also won’t be present.
That leaves one person.
Roman.
Solana didn’t think about the fact that she’d be seated with Roman. It’s not as nerve-racking as it could be, as it probably would have been almost three months ago when this whole new, unexpected chapter of her life began. 
But, it’s still a bit anxiety inducing.
She doesn’t miss how Roman’s grip on her hand remains firm on hers from the moment he helps her out the SUV, his eyes again taking her in the same way he did when she met him back in his office to tell him she was ready to go.
Solana initially felt unsure of herself given the fact that Naomi and Bayley could only pick out her outfit, shoes, and accessories for the night but couldn’t actually help her get ready given the fact that they were competing. Solana struggled to navigate her hair, as always, pinning it up on her head, and her makeup definitely isn’t as nice as the night of WarGames, but it mostly covers up her facial scar, and that’s all that matters.
Still, she must not look completely awful because Roman did not hesitate to give her a slow one over followed by a muttered “damn” and more vocalized, “fuck, you look good.”
She’s starting to lose count of how many times he’s said that now, and each new occurrence still gives her the same butterflies as the first time.
Roman escorts them to their seats, the twins and Paul already being present. Jimmy is the first to speak, whistling loudly.
“Damn, Soso. How we supposed to fight and you distracting us looking all fine and shit?”
“If you want to live and make it to the actual fight, you’ll shut the fuck up.” It’s hard for Solana to tell just when Roman is being completely honest with his cousins or just deadly honest with his cousins. 
This is one of those moments. 
“Thank you.” She doesn’t know what else to say, what kind of response is appropriate to something that isn’t as so.
Roman then motions for Solana to sit down and easily props his big body down in the seat right next to her. Their arms are nearly touching, but she tries not to think of that. Tries to distract herself by asking the twins, “shouldn’t you be in the locker room?”
“Naw, we fight toward the end of the night, so we like to assess with Roman till then.”
“Assess?”
While Jey was the one to provide the initial answer, Jimmy handles the clarification. “You gon be a member of the Warehouse, you gotta earn that shit. That means doing your thing in the ring. You ain’t cutting it, you out.”
Solana nods, quietly. It makes sense. Roman seems like a man with high standards. “So…you all have the final say?”
Jimmy takes a sip of his beer, shaking and nodding his head toward his cousin. “Naw, that’s all Big Dog.”
Solana glances at her husband who’s focused not necessarily on the conversation at hand but the preparation for what’s sure to be an eventful night. 
“If you don’t mind, My Tribal Chief is trying to focus here.” Paul’s voice, equally nice as it is nasty, reminds her of his presence. For some reason, she’s surprised by said presence, though she shouldn’t be. It’s clear the Wise Man is an important asset to Roman. 
“Whassup, my dogs!”
Just then a lanky man comes over to the group. He’s wearing a black t-shirt that says ‘honorary uce’ and has wild red hair that looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in weeks. Solana takes a second to look at him, finding him strangely familiar. It’s then she realizes that he fought with Roman, Solo, and the twins during WarGames.
He goes for some kind of special handshake with Jimmy, then Jey, and finally Roman who looks like he’s contemplating murder rather than wanting to return the greeting. He quickly plays it off, “that is well—okay my tribal chief, and—wow—” Him turning to Solana, finally noticing and acknowledging her, is an experience for the both of them. She notices his initial gaze sets on her chest which is uncomfortable but not entirely unexpected given the style of her dress. Still, she shifts in her seat, uneasy with the attention. “Those are—-ummm—” His eyes go wide, as he moves to backtrack on an obvious Freudian slip. “I mean, it’s uh, very nice to meet you, ma’am, or Mrs. Reigns, or your highness. Whichever you prefer is a-okay with—“
“Sami.”
His shoulders hunch and head drops in shame, like he already knows what’s coming. “Yes, Tribal Chief?”
“Go sit somewhere else.”
This Sami person doesn’t even hesitate, confirming he already knew he fucked up in the less than five minutes he was present. “Yes, my Tribal Chief.”
Solana watches, still partially confused but also kind of amused as he wastes no time in departing. 
Paul then leans over, chatting away, “I told you, my Tribal Chief, I never liked Shmuel. He’s always been so beneath you. I understand he makes easy collateral, but—“
Roman sighs loudly. “Wise Man.”
“Yes, my Tribal Chief?”
“Go join Sami.”
“But……” Solana looks over at Paul. His expression is one of devastation, like he’s just been told he had six months to live. “I—I always sit with you for Night of Champ—“
“Wise Man.”
Paul swallows. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”
“I’m not gon tell you again.” Roman finally looks over at his closest advisor, forcefully enunciating and instructing, “go.”
Similar to Sami, the Wise Man walks off with his tail between his legs, leaving just Solana, Roman, and the twins. 
She has no idea where Solo is. 
“See, now you ain’t even have to do all that, Big Dog. You be getting yourself all upset over nothing. You need to start doing some deep breathing or shit, then maybe you could get off them high blood pressure pills.” 
It’s that last part that Solana zones in on, that makes her turn to Roman, “you have high blood pressure?”
He lifts his eyes, dismissing, “it’s nothing.”
“Can’t—can’t that be dangerous?” It’s not necessarily a question she needs him to answer. Solana is well read on a variety of subjects, especially subjects pertaining to physical health. High blood pressure can mess with a lot of things, a lot of organs. Eyes. Brain.
Heart
Jimmy is the one to chime in, asking with that typical tone of humor. “Soso, you do know what he does for a living right?”
But, it’s hard for her to find said humor when all she’s thinking about now is how certain meals she’s prepared for him could maybe not be the best for his high blood pressure. How she could be exacerbating that.
Feeling pressured by her inner monologue, she offers, “I can change how I cook for you.” And she can. She probably will, making a mental note to peruse through her mom’s recipe books that would be more aligned with the type of diet he probably needs. “I know there’s certain things you probably shouldn’t eat—”
“Solana.” He interrupts, but it’s not with that same irritation he had towards Sami and Paul. “I’m fine. My numbers weren't that bad. The doctor is just being over cautious.”
She wants to believe him, wants to not be as…bothered by this as she is, but something tells her Roman isn’t unlike most men who downplay these sorts of things.
Letting the conversation go, her determination to help him maintain his health remains. 
The conversation shifts to a dialogue between the twins and Roman, the three men conversing in Samoan. She doesn’t mind this, as it also allows her the space to catch the gaze of Bayley and Naomi who look freaking amazing in their gear.
“Soso.”
“I swear to God, if you call her that one more fucking time—”
Jey, possibly foolishly, waves off Roman’s threat. “You understand Yeet, right?”
Blinking twice, she asks, “what?”
“Yeet,” Jimmy says it too, like it’s as basic a word as they come. “Our motto.”
“I—” Honesty is a bit easier with her husband’s cousins. “N–no.”
“Man,” Jey makes a sound with his teeth and jumps right into the explanation. “It’s like a way of life. Like, you yeet when life going good—”
“—when life going bad.”
“—or when you leaving.”
“—or going.”
“It’s a way of life.”
Jimmy and Jey playing off of each other for their presentation is entertaining, at best, but it doesn’t leave her any less confused than she was just a minute ago.
“I—I still don’t get it.”
And that, for the first time, is when Solana hears Roman laugh. It’s not something she ever thought possible, but it’s there, his handsome face turned into an amusing expression as he expresses vindication. “I told you it was fucking stupid.”
“See, I thought we was close, Soso. I thought we was becoming family and shit, but I see you a hater like your husband.”
At that, Jey punches his brother on the arm, reminding with a rough mutter, “man, she be cooking, don’t be fucking up our good thing.”
“Aww shit.” Jimmy quickly moves to backtrack. “I mean, I could see your point.”
Conversation continues as such until the start of the night, Solana watching as the three men around her easily shift into an almost business mode. Their gazes are almost intense, watching closely as matches begin.
Solana partially expected to have to sit and remain quiet for the evening, but certain moves, similar to what Naomi and Bayley have taught her, catch her attention. And it must show, because Solana finds herself occasionally being asked by Roman if she has any questions or if she understands why a fighter did a certain mood.
Some she can answer. Some she cannot. 
So she asks him.
And he answers all of them, clearly, concisely, in a way she can understand.
If Roman is irritated by any of her questions, he does a damn good job not showing as such. And to her credit, she does her best to take a guess vs asking outright with certain things, pulling from her time with Bayley and Naomi. 
And in certain matches, she’s fully immersed in watching their expertise that questions aren’t even a thing. Like the tag team match between two of the most beautiful women she’s ever seen, Jade and Bianca, as Roman called them. Same with Naomi and Bayley who independently show her a side of their ruthlessness she figured existed but hadn’t seen firsthand until tonight.
“Do you all learn how to fight when you’re kids?”
“More or less,” Roman answers, and Solana has a hard time not staring, not being caught up by how handsome this man really is. “This life….it’s kill or be killed. So to not be killed, you learn how to fight. How to survive.”
Survive…
Solana has such a complicated relationship with that otherwise simple word. 
“How come….how come you don’t fight as much?” She’s wondered about this, come up with speculation but would like to know for certain, especially as he seems to be in a relatively decent mood.
Like most things, he keeps his answer nice, simple, and vague. “I don’t have anything to prove to anyone.”
“Did–did you?” He looks over at her, and warmth rises back as she tries to clarify. “At some point, I mean.”
Again, it’s a one-worded response. “Yes.”
She’s not entirely sure just what he’s saying ‘yes’ to, but a full blown out explanation was never expected. He doesn’t seem like the type. But something more would have been….nice. Granted, Solana realizes she’s probably pushing her luck in asking all these questions anyway and sits back in her seat, relegating herself to focusing on the current match.
The chill of the arena makes its reminder yet again as Solana crosses her arms over her body, trying to warm herself. The man beside herself notices this, accurately assessing, “you’re cold.”
True to her nature, Solana shakes her head, downplaying the fact that she is very much cold. “I’m fine.”
Downplaying or being outright dishonest is clearly something Solana would do well to push away, because it seems like this man is capable of seeing right through any and all lies.
Roman shifts forward in his seat and removes his jacket, reaching it to her. “Here.”
Rejection would be rude. It would also make her feel even more bad than she already does at inconveniencing him. Still, her options are really singular, meaning there are no others. Only one.
Mustering a small smile, she accepts his objectively kind gesture, sliding her arms through and adjusting as best she can given their size difference. Warmth overcomes her as well as the scent of his collage, something masculine, almost minty. It fits him.
Silence befalls them for a comfortable while before Solana excuses herself to use the bathroom, Roman only nodding in acknowledgment. 
It’s in walking down the hall that Solana sees Jade and Bianca chatting away, admiring their championship belts. The taller of the two, Jade, happens to glance her way and smiles, exclaiming, “Girl, you are wearing the hell out of that dress!”
“Absolutely killing it,” Bianca also compliments, her smile just as genuine and affable. 
Solana is certain she’s just staring dumbly for a good couple of seconds, because such a compliment from two objectively stunning women towards her was the last thing she expected. 
Descending off her shock, she offers an equally genuine smile and expression of appreciation. “Thank you so much.”
The compliment keeps that smile planted on her face. It’s so unexpected but deeply appreciated.  
Solana dries her hands and tosses the used paper towels in the trash. It’s a brief glance at herself in the mirror that serves as the start of the slippery slope, landing her back in a brief state of uncertainty. The dress is so revealing, much more revealing than anything she could or would ever wear. But it’s hard to think or sit too much in that discomfort when the night has consisted of several compliments. Sami, Jimmy, Jey, now Bianca and Jade. Not to mention the biggest one, or maybe the one that gives her the most butterflies, coming from Roman. 
“Fuck, you look good.”
Her smile shifts from something more silly to something a bit more bashful, her cheeks warming at someone as handsome and powerful as Roman Reigns thinking that she looks good.
Thinking that she’s beautiful.
A toilet flushes from the only other taken stall, and the door opening reveals the perfect reason why Solana should have just went straight back to join Roman instead of having a mental discourse in the bathroom.
Samantha’s long, shapely legs are the first thing Solana notices along with the way her dress melts to her toned, curvy body. She looks good, and she has to know that she looks good. A woman like her probably has men lined up by the dozen, Roman being at the front of that line. 
Samantha’s dark lips form into a smirk as she walks over to the sink. “Surprised to see you tonight.” She moves to wash her hands. “After that not so little incident a while back, I figured that was the last day you’d step foot in here.”
Solana swallows. She’s managed to not think about that day since it happened. Samantha bringing it up is definitely salt on an open wound. “I—umm.”
“Nice dress. A lil snug though. Maybe go up a size next time?” Her voice, so sweet and sugary, is also venomous and knowing. “Or two.”
Solana’s hands naturally move to her stomach, forearms trying to block the part of her body she hates the most and is certain Samantha is primarily referring to.
“Sage, right?” She doesn’t give Solana a chance to respond. “Let me give you some advice. Woman to woman.”
Something tells Solana she’s not going to like this advice. 
Samantha dries her hands and walks up to Solana. “I know you’re Roman’s wife, but you can’t seriously think that means anything to him, right? It’s just a title, and he’ll defend you only because it’s defending his pride.” Solana tries to not put too much into Samantha’s hurtful words, but it’s hard not to when Solana knows Roman continues to be intimate with this woman, even after their marriage. She can’t blame him for that, though, especially since he’s definitely not getting it from her. Still, it does sting a bit. “Trust me, I’ve known him very well since we were in high school.” Samantha smirks, chuckling. “So, I would know.”
“Bitch, you don’t know shit.”
The last voice Solana expected to enter the conversation was that of Nia’s. But sure enough, Roman’s’ cousin stands near the bathroom door, arms crossed over her body. 
Samantha’s expression sours tremendously as she icily greets the other woman, bigger, stronger, maybe even prettier. “Nia.”
Nia ignores the greeting and comes to stand near Solana, immediately going in on the slender women. “If you know him so well and you supposedly mean that much to him, how come it’s not you with a wedding ring on your finger?” Solana says nothing, keeping her gaze down, but it doesn’t stop her from also thinking about that very valid question. Just why didn’t Roman marry Samantha? “Or better yet,” Solana glancing back up allows her to see Nia’s cruel smile. “Why is it Solana’s name he said when he was fucking you?”
What?
Solana is visibly shaken by that because where in the hell did that even come from? There’s no way that can be true. No way Roman could be in bed with someone like Samantha and say her name. 
But Samantha is visibly disturbed, lip almost curling into an almost snarl as she spits, “fuck you, Nia.”
“I’d call you Solana too, so I don’t think you’d want that.”
Samantha storms out of the bathroom without another word leaving Solana alone with Nia, Solana who is still trying to process what was just said and finds herself asking Nia. 
“Is—is that true? Did you—did you really hear about Roman—ummm—”
Typically, Solana would keep her questions in the safety of her mind, but this…..this feels almost impossible to not seek clarification on. 
“You know he’s my cousin, right?” Nia looks visibly disgusted but still answers her question. “I would never make something up like that about family. Samantha is a blabber mouth that doesn’t realize she shares her shit with that dumbass best friend of hers, Tiffy, and the whole town knows.”
The answer is appreciated, but it still leaves Solana with so many questions. 
“I—I don’t understand.” Again, it’s something meant to stay inside but manages to slip past the cracks. 
“God, you are naive.” Nia rolls her eyes and explains while crossing her arms. “Sweetie, if a man is balls deep in Woman A and says Woman B’s name, Woman A is not who he wants.” 
That seems almost inconceivable to Solana. For Roman to think she looks good and maybe even consider her beautiful is one thing, but for him to desire her in that way is something entirely different.
She doesn’t know what to do with this information.
“Don’t let that skinny bitch get to you.” Nia seems eager to switch the conversation to something different. “She’s a pussy. All bark and no bite. Remember, you have the ring on your finger. You just have to put her in her place one good time, and she’ll leave you be. And if not, let Roman know. He’d never hurt or kill her himself, but he’d definitely ask me to, and truth be told, I’ve wanted to snap that bitch’s neck since high school, so you’d be doing everyone a favor.”
Solana can’t allow herself, or maybe more so doesn’t have the capacity, to think about that right now. She’s still trying to get a grip on chapter one. Still, she offers a quiet ‘thank you’ to Nia, turning to leave when the taller woman says her name. Solana turns back around. “Yes?”
Nia sighs and rolls her eyes. “I know you think I hate you, but I don’t. I may hate how soft you are, but I don’t hate you.” Nia then smirks with an almost playful add on of, “I don’t care enough about you to hate you.”
________
As expected, Roman is immediately asking what took so long the second Solana is back in her seat. 
Her excuse is weak. She tells him that there was a line, but it’s the best thing she can come up with on the spot. His expression is all the answer she needs that he certainly doesn’t believe her but will let it go.
For now. 
The rest of the night seems to be more of a blur, Solana now more consumed with trying to wrap her head around this newest bit of information. 
The twins end up finishing off the event with a brutal but successful match where they, as expected, retain their tag team titles.  
Solana could see this, understandably, pleased Roman. 
And outside of some constructive criticism towards Jey and Jimmy, Roman expressed his desire to leave as soon as they got cleaned up, which took less time than she expected. He’s guiding them, her, out to leave, her hand still in his, when a thickly accented voice calls the attention of the man beside her. 
“Roman Reigns.”
Solana can barely turn around to the source of the voice when Roman’s muscled arm is stretched across her body, moving her behind him, his big body serving as an impenetrable shield.
Because of their height difference, Solana can’t see a whole lot outside of the instant shift of security and even the twins toward whoever this person is. 
“How wonderful for you to bless us with your presence so soon after WarGames.” The man scoffs, clearly trying to bait Roman. “What is this, the second appearance in how many years? Hell hath fuckin’ froze over.”
Solana catches a brief glance of the mystery man and gasps. He has an imposing figure, similar to Roman but there’s something cold about him, something….sinister. 
“How dare you acknowledge the Tribal Chief—” Roman lifts his hand to silence Paul. 
Roman simply states, “talk.” 
“You know what I want, Reigns.” Solana hears a footstep and notices how Roman makes a subtle movement that results in the twins also moving closer towards her, shielding her from this man. “You don’t deserve that title. You may have been a fighter then, but you ain’t now. You’re about the Bloodline, and I respect that, mate, but the Undisputed title deserves to be with someone who defends it more than once a fucking year.”
“So what, you think you the one who gon’ take it? Man, we outta kill your ass right now for talking out your neck like that to our Tribal Chief!”
Solana hates being unable to see Roman, to see his face, to be able to gauge and read his facial expressions. He’s an enigma of a man, typically oscillating between irritated, angry, and indifferent, but not having the option altogether to know where he currently lands is bothersome.  Especially with what comes out of his mouth next.
“Do something.”
Solana freezes. That….that can’t be good.
“You standing up on me. You make a good tough guy face. Do something.”
Solana’s fingers tap against her side, that familiar knotting in her stomach returning. She glances over at Jey who seems to also be a bit confused by Roman’s response.
“Uce—”
Roman ignores him. “Go on. Pull it.”
Jimmy speaks up this time, rough voice quiet but urgent. “Roman, we got Solana here—”
“Come on. Make it happen. What’s different? Ain’t nothing changed. Think back to the last time you challenged me.” Solana hates when Roman moves away from her, because it means he’s a step closer to this man, this man who seems determined to pick a fight with the Tribal Chief and may get just that. “Think about it. I whooped you then. I’ll whoop you now.” Roman speaks with such a confidence about him, the most violent, straightforward promise of sure brutality she’s ever heard from a man. “Ain’t nothing changed.”
Solana isn’t necessarily thinking about what she’s doing when she suddenly moves herself in between Roman and this man who’s apparently hellbent on getting her husband riled up. It’s another unconscious act as she plants her palms against his chest, both relieved and nervous by how his gaze instantly drops to hers.
Solana licks her lips and finds herself pleading in an unexpectedly calm yet typically soft voice. “Let’s just go.” His initial expression of fury and simmering anger seems to lessen the longer he looks at her, and Solana adds on, desperately. “Please.”
This act of boldness is completely unplanned and entirely stems from Solana unable to stop thinking about how Roman being so upset all the time can’t be good for his blood pressure. It can’t be good for his health. 
And for reasons she doesn’t quite understand, that bothers her. It concerns her. 
Him not being healthy concerns her.
What does not surprisingly concern her is when Roman moves his hands down to her hips and almost gently moves her to the side, forcing her hands to drop. She expects him to lunge at the other man or to scold her for interfering, but he does neither.
He steps toward him and simply states with all the coldness, “you’ve got your match, but I set the date when I want it.” Solana’s more or less holding her breath, waiting for Roman to strike the man, or worse. “But know this, McIntyre, you step in that ring with me again, I’m not just ending your career this time, I’m ending your fucking life.”
Roman’s threat sends uneasy chills down her spine. There’s no mistaking Roman’s promise, something she’s certain he will be sure to fulfill.
He then takes her hand again and moves her to the side opposite of the man who looks like he hates Roman as much as Roman probably hates him. Solana is almost entirely eclipsed by Roman’s big body as he walks her past the ordeal.
The car ride is a bit uncomfortably silent, Solana recognizing that Roman is still seething from the exchange but most likely waiting until she’s out of his vicinity to express that rage. 
But, it's when she’s walking back in the house after letting Dulce do her business that Roman catches and speaks to her. 
“Solana.” He’s leaning back against the counter, big arms crossed over his muscular body. He’s so….big. “What happened when you went to the bathroom tonight?”
She can’t be surprised, can’t feel caught off guard by his question. It’s still not something she necessarily wants to talk about or knows how to discuss, but she’ll do the best she can. 
“I ran into Samantha.” Taking a deep breath, she tries her hardest to keep it vague but still an acceptable answer. “I don’t—I don’t think she likes me.”
At that, Roman nearly growls, “what did that bitch say to you?”
Solana winces at his tone. “It wasn’t that bad…”
He’s quick with the dismissal and redirection. “That’s not what I asked you.”
“She just—she just talked about my outfit, that—that was it, because Nia came in there, and well, I don’t—I think Nia might hate her more than she hates me.”
Roman sighs, running his hand over his face. “I’ll handle Samantha.” Before Solana can protest, he adds, “Nia doesn’t hate you.”
This brings a small smile to Solana’s face. “That's what she said.”
Roman also looks slightly amused by this, studying her for a second. “Solana.” The surprises keep on coming, because he takes an unexpected turn in the conversation. “I almost lost my temper tonight.”
This….this feels true. His issuance of threats were delivered in an almost calm manner, but it was more deceptive than anything. Like a setup for violence that was potentially about to unfold if she didn’t interfere.
Still, nothing ended up happening, so it doesn’t make sense for him to act like it did.
“But, you didn’t,” she points out quietly, offering a bit of an olive branch. “And….you were upset.” 
Solana would maybe argue that he’s always in varying states of upsetness, but that’s not the point of the conversation at hand. 
“I have no shortage of enemies, Solana.” His voice takes on a darker, almost subdued tone. It makes her previously amused expression slip into something more somber. “But, I need you to know that I would never do anything that would put you in danger. Drew wanted to issue his challenge. That’s it. He wasn’t going to do anything, because he wants an audience for that. I had it under control.” Solana isn’t questioning that nor did she plan to, but Roman’s next question definitely takes her for a loop. “Were you scared?”
It’s a valid, understandable question that she didn’t think about until this moment. There was anxiety, maybe some element of fear but also concern, so she decides to play down the first two. 
“I wasn’t scared.” It was more concern than fear, which, in her mind, are two different things. “Just….confused about what was happening.”
“That’s not what I meant.” His dismissal is nicer than what anyone else would receive. “Of me, Solana. Were you scared of me?”
Another valid question that she’s actually been thinking about on and off for the past few weeks. Solana would like to consider herself not naive to a lot of things about this life that she was born into. She knows that most of the people who surround her are killers. And Roman is no different. The king of that, maybe.
But…..
But, he’s done nothing thus far to make her ever believe she would ever be subjected to that side of him. If anything, he’s worked to stress and help her understand that she’d never be hurt by him. And adding up all of the things he’s done to support said message, Solana feels it only appropriate to be honest with him. 
About more than just his question.
“When—-when the twins asked earlier today if I wanted to go in the pool, I got nervous because—-” Solana displays her textbook signs of discomfort with the stammering and playing with her fingers but still manages to get out what she wants to share. “Wes, he used to…..hold my head under water until I almost passed out.” Solana looks away for a second, shifting her weight from one foot to another. “That……that’s who I’m afraid of.” Solana manages to set her gaze back on Roman, almost confidently assuring, “I’m not scared of you, Roman.”
He steps toward her, and Solana’s eyes never leave his, mindful of the way his hand lifts, tensing when he rests it against her face, palming her cheek almost gently. Solana stiffens but easily shifts into something not calm but not on edge either. “You don’t have to be scared of him anymore, of anyone. I won’t let anyone else ever hurt you again.”
And for the first time, she believes him without the speck of doubt and uncertainty in the backseat. Solana has seen nothing from the man before her to indicate otherwise. She doesn’t know a lot of things regarding him, regarding them, regarding just why he’s so hellbent on defending her, but one thing she’s realized is that he’s intentional and determined with his dedication to protect her.
This is similar, very similar, too similar to that night where her fears got the best of her, where she was unable to overpower the discomfort and fear. But, this isn’t that night, and Solana doesn’t feel that building dread in the core of her stomach. It could be the fact that it’s only one hand on her, cupping her face. Nowhere else.
It could even be a very early sign that maybe, just maybe, that book she was given so long ago really does have the healing properties someone from so long ago once promised. 
There’s even her conversation with Nia from earlier that sits in the back of her mind, the undeniable confirmation of Roman’s attraction to her. Enough to where he would say her name during that.
Whatever the case, she doesn’t move away, just nods quietly, slowly moving away from him. 
“I’m—I’m gonna get ready for bed.”
Roman says nothing, also nodding as acknowledgment, watching as Solana grabs Dulce and disappears out of his sight but not the front of his mind.
________
The Reigns estate is as spacious as it is grandiose. There are several ways and paths to reach a destination. 
So, Roman doesn’t have to pass Solana’s room to reach his bedroom. There’s an alternative route in coming from where he was working, but he decides this specific way for reasons he’s not entirely sure of.
It ends up being a good decision because it’s in walking past her door that he hears low scraping against said door. Instantly, he knows it’s Dulce clearly needing to go outside. And she confirms as such with her soft whimpering. 
Rolling his eyes, Roman opens the door just enough for Dulce to run out, stopping when she sees it’s him. He glances at the bed to see Solana sleeping, open book on her chest, indicating she fell asleep while reading.
Dulce whines again, and he chides quietly, “be quiet before you wake her up.”
Dulce’s ears go down as Roman picks up the puppy that’s still too little to walk up and down the steps, hence needing human transportation. It’s annoying, but he brings her down the steps and out the backyard. 
Settling her down, he instructs, “go on. Do whatever you gotta do.”
He’ll give the dog some credit where credit is due. She’s far more obedient than he expected for a puppy, because in less than 10 minutes, she’s emptied her bladder and is being carried back to Solana’s room. 
Roman is careful to lay her little ass back in her bed, aware of her bristle looking legs that would probably break with one bad drop. 
Rising back to his full height, he catches Solana turning on her side, the shift in position causing the book to slip and almost fall out the bed, but Roman is fast, catching it before the crash and potential disturbance can wake her up.
Naturally, he glances at the front cover, noticing the age of the book. But the aging look doesn’t mean shit to him when he sees the title and a piece of paper that clearly has Solana’s handwriting. He doesn’t read that, wanting to respect her privacy, but he definitely reads the title, and it instantly shifts his entire mood. 
The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse
It shifts his mood from his default state or irritation to quiet rage. 
There’s only one reason she would be reading this book, working out of this book. And it’s not that he didn’t already know she’d been violated in one way or another. Her medical records confirmed as such.
But, he was thinking she was a teenager, not any better, but definitely not a fucking child.
Someone hurt her when she was still a child, a literal goddamn kid, and this is something Roman cannot find it in him to avoid investigating. He’s always been a man uncomfortable with unanswered questions, and there are no shortage of them in regards to Solana. Not that he would ever put her in a position to answer them. No. He wouldn’t do that to her, would never make her share something like that with him.
But, he does know someone else he can demand answers from. 
Two people, actually. One of them being shit out of luck after narrowly avoiding Roman’s wrath from earlier today in learning that he fucking tortured Solana.
Roman carefully places the book on her nightstand and makes sure Dulce is still in her bed on the other side of Solana’s before quietly closing the door.
Roman is down the hall, powerful strides taking him to his room as he pulls out his phone, dialing the one person he knows for a fact will answer his call at any time. Hitting dial and switching it to speaker, Roman tosses his phone on the bed to get dressed. 
Sure enough, he answers on the second ring.
Roman jumps right into it. “Meet me at the Miller house. Get your brothers.”
Solo only pauses for a second, answering in that stoic voice, “we’ll be there in 30.”
Not good enough. 
“Make it 20.” 
________
As expected, Roman is met at the Miller house by his cousins, all three.
Slamming the car door shut, Roman hears Jimmy yawning loudly. “Man, why the hell is we here?”
Ignoring his older brother, Solo straightens his stance and informs, “I had Pearce disable the security system.”
“Good.” It’s the fact that Solo already knew to do so without being told. Moments like this is when Roman knows he made the right decision promoting and moving Solo up the ranks. He’s more than proved himself.
“I have questions. Miller has answers.” Roman’s answer there is intentionally vague. Solana’s trauma is no one’s business but her own, and just because he is also aware doesn’t mean he needs to broadcast it. “And Solana told me today her brother used to waterboard her.”
“Waterboarding? Like actual fucking torture?” This information seems to awaken both the twins, eliciting angry reactions. “What the fuck is wrong with his ass?”
“We killing them, right?” Jey, forever the hothead and also relatively equal with Roman in terms of how quickly he travels from zero to one-hundred, is the first to ask the most obvious question.
“No. Not tonight. That would be too easy.” And it would. Roman meant that shit when he said he wanted their asses to suffer. “But that doesn’t mean we have to make living easy for them.”
They don’t deserve to live, let alone living easy lives. Not when they’ve done everything seemingly possible to make Solana’s miserable.
Roman then looks towards the twins, instructing, “take care of the brother.” It’s not a necessary directive, but he doesn’t hesitate to add, “make him fucking suffer.”
He then motions for Solo to follow him, the men headed toward the house as Roman swears out loud, “Xavier is mine.” 
Roman steps back as Solo waits zero time in shattering the large window in the living room, providing an entrance for the men. Roman grabs his gun, nodding for the twins to move first, followed by Solo, each man armed with a gun. It’s unnecessary, Roman is certain as they’re more likely to find father and son in the midst of illicit acts vs prepared for the onslaught headed their way. 
Up the stairs and on the second floor, Roman quietly motions for them to split up, Solo and the twins to the right while he moves to the left, the most likely location of the master.
Solo seems to give him an uneasy expression, but Roman simply nods and heads toward his target.
Xavier is his.
The combination of the brothers works just as Roman predicted, them successfully locating the brother’s bedroom, confirmed by his horrified shout of ‘what the fuck! 
It’s followed up with a shout of pain and Jey yelling “Get your bitch ass up!” and “Solo, fill up the tub!”
Pleased, Roman is standing directly outside of Xavier’s door when the older man rips the door open, face contorted in a mixture of shock and anger. That quickly morphs into fear when he realizes just who is responsible for this attack. 
Roman brings the gun across upside Miller’s head, watching the man fall down and writhe in pain, holding his hand against his now bleeding head. 
Undeterred, Roman reaches down, yanking the man up by his neck as he jolts his body against the nearest wall. “We need to talk.” Straight to the point and not in the mood for any bullshit this fucker may try to spew his way, Roman demands,  “I want to know what the fuck happened to my wife.”
And there’s a brief but telltale sign that Xavier knows exactly what he’s referring to without Roman even needing to elaborate. 
That only pisses him off even more. 
Still, Xavier stutters, shaking his head, “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Roman gives a bitter smile, shaking his head and scratching his beard. It’s the last thing he’s certain Xavier sees before Roman again has him up by the collar of his pajama shirt. 
“You really want to play these fucking games with me?” It’s a no. It’s a hell no, but Xavier insulting Roman’s intelligence by lying to him indicates the opposite of no. So, Roman will treat him as such. “Who the fuck touched Solana?”
His question is followed up by screaming coming from down the hall, the beautiful sound of a piece of shit getting exactly what he deserves. 
“What? Ain’t so tough now, little bitch! Like to beat on women but a pussy when it comes to fighting another man!”
And while it could bring a smile to Roman’s face, Xavier looks horrified in hearing Jimmy’s taunts. Instantly, he’s pleading, pathetic and pitiful, “pl—please.”
“I’d torture and kill that bitch right in front of you tonight if I could.” It pisses Roman off to no end how this man can care so much about his demented son but not give a flying fuck about his innocent daughter. “Now, answer my fucking question, who touched Solana?”
Again, Xavier decides to test Roman’s patience, offering unasked information. “She—she was a virgin before she married you.”
“I don’t give a fuck about her being virgin or not!” She could still be a virgin and have been touched. But truth be told, that shit’s never mattered to him anyway. Virgin or no virgin, it’s always been an irrelevant deciding factor to who he took to bed. “Tell me what happened to her or I’ll blow that bitch son of yours fucking brains out right in front of you—”
Roman pulls the gun from out of the back of his pants, knowing full and well that while he would love to empty the entirety of it in the scum before him, it’s better served torturing him in another sort of manner.
Mentally.
And it does the trick.
“Alright, alright!” Xavier finally caves, sweat bubbling across his wrinkled forehead. “She was raped, alright? Two men broke into the house when she was 12 and attacked her. Beat her real bad. They—they never found them. Okay? That—that’s the truth. That’s what happened.”
No. Not fucking okay. Nothing is fucking okay. Roman wanted answers, felt like he needed them, but knowing the truth, it doesn’t do shit but paint his vision red. 
He knew something happened to her. 
He just didn’t know how bad.
Raped. 
Beaten. 
Twelve.
And then another thought hits him, the absolute terror on her face that day when she was faced with what should be the most simplest thing for a person: going into their childhood bedroom. 
Roman remembers her fear, the dried blood, the scratches on the wall. 
It all makes sense.
She was attacked in her fucking bedroom.
The thought of a child being hurt at all has never sat right with him, but to be hurt in that way. As a child, and for that child to have been Solana. 
He’s fucking breathing rage. 
“Where the fuck were you, huh?” Roman jerks his body back against the wall, half ready to break this fucker’s neck. “Answer me!”
“I wasn’t home!” Xavier’s sweating has progressed into droplets from his forehead onto the bridge of his nose and shirt. “I—I was out on a fishing trip with Wes.”
A fishing trip…..
This man was out enjoying fucking nature with his dimwitted offspring while his daughter was at home alone fighting for her fucking life.
“You left a 12 year old home alone?” It keeps getting fucking worse. “How long was she alone!” Roman is fully prepared to risk snapping this motherfucker’s neck when he spits out a desperate answer.
“A week. It was just a week.” And if it makes a fucking difference, he desperately adds on, “I—I’d done it before, and she was fine.”
Xavier is either stupid or very stupid, because Roman can’t conceptualize how this imbecile would think the additional information makes it any better. 
Solana was hurt.
She was hurt in the worst way possible, and it’s all his fault. 
With all of the aggression in his body, Roman throws the piece of shit across the room, intentionally aiming for the glass coffee table that instantly shatters under the weight of his fat ass.
Without a second of fucking hesitation, Roman fires two shots directly into Xavier’s body, one in his right hand and the other in his left foot. Xavier’s shouts of pain do little to dull the unadulterated rage coursing through Roman’s body.
Shouts morph into tiny, pathetic whimpers as Roman slowly walks through the broken glass, tossing his gun to the side as he pulls out the brass knuckles in his back pocket. 
“I told Solana I wouldn’t kill you until she gave me the word, and I’m not going to take that from her.” He crouches down besides the now crying older man, crying in the way Roman is certain Solana did when she was alone and helpless. His fury is practically bubbling over now as he coldly vows, “but that doesn't mean I can’t make your life a living fucking hell until then.”
________
Roman walks back into the house with a weight he can’t shake, even with the brutal carnage he unleashed on the Miller household, leaving father and son on the brink of death. That type of violent release typically abates his anger, and it did diminish a lot of it, seeing that piece of shit pummeled into a bloody, broken mess.
But Roman is still plagued with thoughts of the hell Solana endured living in that household. To be attacked in that way in her own home, in her fucking bedroom, it makes Roman want to get right back in his SUV and carry Xavier and his equally piece of shit over the doorstep of death.
But, he couldn’t do that to Solana, take that away from her. He’s just the executioner in this situation. He’ll let the day of reckoning be determined by her because that’s the least she can get. 
Coming straight back home, Roman didn’t bother to stop and get himself cleaned up. His guards have seen much worse, and Solana is asleep, so that’s not a concern either.
But, it is a concern because in an almost scene of deja vu, Solana is most certainly not asleep. She’s sitting on the sofa, Dulce right beside her when she hears his heavy footsteps. 
Roman doesn’t have time to say anything, too stunned by this happening yet again, even later than he’s returned before. 
Why is she up?
Solana jumps up off the sofa and is suddenly standing across from him, her face painted in what’s obviously a moderate to tremendous amount of worry and anxiety. 
But, she isn’t looking at him. Not really. She’s more so focused on the blood stained and splattered clothes that adorn him.
“You’re hurt…..” He’s heard her say it the last two times they were in this type of situation, eerily similar in a lot of ways, but this time….this time is different.
It’s different because she rushes over to him, her hand floating over his chest, one place, two place, another place. Like a plane trying to find a safe space to land, she’s unsure where he’s hurt and clearly overwhelmed by it all.
And then he sees it, the blurry overlay of water over her eyes and the slight tremble of her lip.
Roman steps towards her, trying to be respectful of the distance between them. Her discomfort with touch makes all the sense now. “Please don’t cry.” And this is yet another new, unfamiliar, unexposed territory for him, seeing her so distraught at her belief that he’s been hurt. The way that the thought alone clearly wrecks her.
Roman quickly notices the changing of her breathing pattern, heavier, rhythmic almost. 
“Shit…..”
Roman has heard this song before.
Realizing this is a matter of de-escalation, he does what’s needed in the moment and brings his hands to her face, cupping her face.
“Solana, breathe, baby.” The term of adoration isn’t even something that really registers with him at the moment, not an intentional addictive or something he gives two fucks about in this moment, really. He’s solely focused on settling the woman in front who’s on the brink of a panic attack.
He can’t see her deal with that again, especially now that he knows just why she had the first one.
Roman has no hesitation in pushing away loose strings of her hair, never once taking his focus off her. “I’m fine, Solana. I’m not hurt. It’s not my blood.” Recognizing she clearly needs to see it, he moves back to lift and toss his shirt on the floor. “See?”
And that seems to do something for her, something to help settle the panic. 
Roman watches her and forces himself not to think about the heat that fills him at her hand on his chest, over his heart. It’s all so innocent. Recognizing her breathing has settled into something less alarming and more familiar, he moves his hand over hers, reiterating once more, “I’m fine.” He waits for her to finish taking a deep breath to ask, “why are you up?”
This has to be the third time Roman has come home at an ungodly hour to find her waiting for him, and he’s trying to figure out what the real reason is. 
She licks her lip, clearly working her way up to a response. “Dulce had to…..had to use the bathroom, and I saw you weren’t here, and you didn’t answer my text.” Roman curses himself. He was so caught in his uproar that he didn’t even bother checking that thing, never expecting for Solana to be the missed notification on his lock screen. “I just…..I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Roman has heard this part before and tries to navigate how he wants to push back on his belief that it can’t be just that, but Solana surprisingly beats him to it. “I get….I get worried when you’re not here at night and—-and I can’t sleep until—-”
“Until I’m back….”
He has a good guess why. She was attacked in the middle of the night, and he’s also pretty certain he remembers reading that the attack that killed her mother also happened at night.
“Solana…..” For the first time in a while, if ever, Roman is active in his attempts to explain this to her as gently as he can. “What I do…who I am…I can’t always be here.”
“I know,” she sniffles. “I’m sorry—I don’t mean to bother you—”
“You could never bother me, okay?” He wipes away more of her tears, hand back to cupping her face, realizing she’s not going to pull away from him this time. He takes full advantage of that. Roman moves his other hand to the small of her back, holding her against him. It’s not missed upon him how she also brings her other free hand to his chest. “But, I always make it back, alright?” She nods, as he runs his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “Can’t no man put me down.”
She smiles, a little laugh that does more to him than he’d like to admit, that he feels comfortable with. And this settles him. It settles him more than nearly killing her dad and brother for hurting her, directly and indirectly, did. 
Solana nods, murmuring a quiet, “o–okay.”
He’s studying her. Closely. Maybe more than what’s necessary. It comes from a place of concern, and he’d admit as such. “Are you good now?” 
She nods again, and he believes it enough to let her go, watching her start to walk away when he’s caught off guard again because of her body, so soft and warm, against his again. Her sweet perfume filling his senses, her arms around his neck.
She’s hugging him. Solana is actually hugging him. He can’t remember the last time someone did that shit.
But he doesn’t waste a second of time accepting her embrace that seems to end just as quickly as it began. He can’t be surprised or upset. This is big for her, obviously, and he would never push her past her comfort zone, but he also can’t deny that the absence of her in his arms is noticeable. 
And uncomfortable.
Solana murmurs a rushed goodnight and grabs Dulce to head back up the stairs, Roman eyes never leaving her until she’s completely out of view.
Roman stands there for a few good minutes, unsure of what just happened, working to process the same unfamiliar feelings that coursed through him the last time they had a moment like this. It’s the same as before, just ten times stronger, more intense, more consuming.
Unsure of a lot, two things he knows for asbolute fucking certain:
He’s going to find Solana’s rapists and make them pay for every sick fucking thing they did to her.
There’s not a fucking force on earth that could take this girl away from him.
She’s his.
And he’ll protect her with everything in him.
No matter what the cost.
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vgilantee · 2 years ago
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dorm room antics {ethan landry}
ethan landry x fem!reader
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requested: n/a
words: 2k
a/n: surprise! turns out when my brain decides to work, i can write a 2k word fic in three hours. which means you guys get a march fic! this fic is part of what i like to call “char’s ethan fic universe” in which i haven’t written any other fics, but it’s all apart of the long ask i sent julie (this one here) so i will mention a couple things here that reference it. Also on referencing things, i was tempted make a star wars reference in here, but julie doesn’t need more reasons to point and laugh at me and call me a star wars nerd (julie would never point and laugh at me, i love her). This is not a smut but things get a little steamy. There may be an alternate version that starts the same but is nsfw (oh my god finding a gif for this fic was too hard and this isn't even the one i wanted, but tumblr hates me)
warnings: steamy!, if you were reading fanfics in the 2000s/early 2010s this would count as an orange
pronouns: none used
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You had everyone’s timetables memorised, all of you did. It was one of the first things the four of you did at the start of each semester; you sat down and learned each timetable so you always knew where each other was throughout the day. It was how you knew that Chad would be out of his dorm. 
You knocked on the door, bouncing on the balls of your feet. Ethan didn’t know you were coming over, you wanted to surprise him with your company on his day free of classes. After your first and only class of the day, you would usually be with Mindy in the library or Tara in one of her lectures. But Mindy had ditched you to spend time with Anika, and Tara was in bed with the flu. Not that you needed the excuses to spend time with Ethan, but Mindy didn’t entirely trust him, so the excuses were required to satiate her. 
The sounds of moving around came through the door, and you heard Ethan muttering that he was coming. 
“Oh, hey.” Ethan’s curls bounced a little as his head tilted in surprise. He gave you a dopey smile and stepped to the side, letting you move past him and into the room. You had been in the dorm a few times, but you still couldn’t help turning in a slow circle to look around. On his bed was a textbook and notebook, as well as various pens scattered on the sheets. 
“Sorry, did I interrupt your studying?” You turned back to face him, lazily pointing at the study supplies on his navy sheets. Ethan blinked, almost as if he forgot the stationery was even there, before shaking his head. As he did, you noticed just how long his curls have gotten, falling into his eyes more than usual.
“No. I mean yeah but-” He bit his lower lip gently. “You’re always welcome to interrupt my study.” Ethan’s mouth quirked in a shy smile, trying to hide how he cringed at what he said. 
You took a step toward him and reached your hands up to his shoulders, lazily looping them around the back of his neck. Almost immediately, Ethan’s hands moved around your waist and pulled you flush against him. 
“Are you sure? I can leave you to your…” you glanced over at his bed to try and decipher what subject he was studying, “I have no idea what that is but I’m sure it’s important.” You felt the breath of Ethan’s laugh against your hair. 
“It’s programming and yeah, I’m sure.” You turned back to him, making quick glances down at his mouth that was so close. “Don’t leave.” Ethan’s voice was barely a whisper, embarrassed but pleading, and you stopped fighting the voice in your head and leaned up to finally kiss him. 
It quickly deepened, one of your hands moving to his face and the other weaving into his hair. Ethan’s fingers dug into your waist, pulling you even closer to him, so close that one of his feet ended up between yours.
When you pulled back to take a breath, you kept your eyes closed, foreheads rested together. 
“Bed?” You felt his hands tighten slightly as your breath hit his mouth. You and Ethan had slept together before, but only a handful of times, and every time Ethan started out quietly excited, and shy. 
Ethan let out a single hum before dropping his hands to the backs of your thighs, encouraging you to jump lightly and wrap your legs around his waist. As soon as he was sure you’re safely held up, he took the five steps from the door to his bed. You expected him to place you on the bed, but instead he turned and sat down, sitting you on his lap. As soon as you’re comfortable (which took a fraction of a second) you pulled him forward by the back of his neck, reigniting the kiss more desperately. You left one hand weaved into his curls, but the other dropped to grip his bicep. 
His hands slide up from your thighs, pausing briefly on your ass to give the muscles a gentle squeeze. You rolled your hips gently forward in response to the squeeze, and you felt the light vibration of his hum against your mouth. Ethan moved his hands up a little further, encouraging your movement, and you gently bit his bottom lip. Ethan opened his mouth and the kiss quickly became messier, tongues rolling against each other and teeth occasionally bumping. 
As you moved to pull away, you pulled Ethan’s tongue into your mouth and sucked on it gently pulling a moan from deep in his throat. You opened your eyes, seeing him with his cheeks flushed red and his eyes still closed, his mouth opened slightly. 
You could never get over how pretty he was, especially when so flushed. And you always felt a swell of pride because you were the one able to get him like that and the only one who got to see the sight underneath you. 
Ethan slowly opened his eyes, pupils blown. He slowly raised a hand, pushing some of the hair that had fallen out of its place in your ponytail behind your ear before quickly leaning down and gently bit and kissed at your neck. Your head rolled to the side, desperately exposing more skin for him to give attention to. His tongue rolling over his teeth marks elicited gasps from you, your fingers lightly tugging at his hair in a silent plead for more. 
A soft moan broke from your throat as Ethan bit down, slightly harder, and sucked, determined to leave a deep mark. You pulled harder at his curls in retaliation and rolled your hips against him. Ethan dragged his tongue across the mark, continuing to move it up your neck and along your jaw until his mouth meets yours again for a short kiss. 
“You sure?” Regardless of how many times you made it clear to Ethan that you wanted him, he always asked, checked to make sure that you hadn’t changed your mind. You rolled your hips again in a silent reply.
“Completely.” Ethan let out a whimper before pulling your hips down, letting you feel his need for you under your core. You let out a choked sound before pulling Ethan into a rough kiss that left him gasping. 
For every roll of your hips, Ethan responded with a sound against your mouth, though it didn’t take long for him to begin retaliating instead with soft thrusts upward. Your head fell back with a breathy moan, and Ethan quickly began pressing open mouthed kisses to your throat, humming every time he felt you make sounds. 
“Ethan.” You whispered out his name and his hips twitched forward, further into you than his teasing rolls. Using the hand in his hair, you pulled his face back to you, and your other hand slid down his chest before slipping under the hem of his shirt. Your fingertips grazed across his abs, and you smiled against his mouth as stomach flinched from your touch. Your hand continued to move up to his chest, dragging his shirt with him, until you pulled away, silently begging for him to take off his shirt.
Ethan dragged his hands from your waist, across your thighs, prolonging taking his hands away from you, but finally he did, following your quiet ask and took off his shirt. You raked your fingernails down his chest to his stomach pulling a whimper from Ethan, before your hands quickly moved to loop around the back of his neck, moving to kiss him as his warm hands met your skin again, one hand snaking under your shirt to rest on the bare small of your back, and the other resting softly on your cheek.
You gently let out a moan as Ethan bit down on your bottom lip, your nails digging softly into the skin on the nape of his neck.
“Oh, fuck!” Chad’s sudden voice caused you to jolt. You hadn’t even heard the door open, you were so engrossed in the feeling of Ethan. Ethan quickly pulled away from you, and you tried not to follow after his suddenly-missing mouth. “Ew, that is so not what I wanted to see in my dorm.” You rolled your eyes, flipping Chad off over your shoulder. 
You tried to fight the soft smile as Ethan pressed his face into the side of your neck, wanting so desperately to hide from his roommate. His soft curls brushed against your skin, raising goosebumps. 
Turning to follow the movement of your arm, you glared at Chad, who had a hand over his eyes while dramatically using the other to feel around for his side of the room. 
“Oh fuck off, Chad.” You said with a slightly amused laugh. Ethan sighed into your neck and the sudden breath made you realise that you were gently stroking his hair. Your fond smile won against your fighting as Ethan hid. 
“This is my room!” Chad threw his hand up, keeping the one already over his eyes pressed firmly in place. “Now, are you done dry humping each other so I can grab my shit?” You reached for the bed beside where Ethan was sitting and grabbed one of his pens, throwing it at Chad but missing. 
“Yeah, yeah.” Slowly, ever the drama queen, Chad peels his hand from his eyes, letting out an exaggerated sound of relief.
“I can’t believe you almost defiled my poor, virgin eyes.” He pressed a hand to his heart while walking toward his desk to grab his forgotten textbook. “Corrupting my innocent soul with your filth.” You threw another pen at him, this one hitting him square in the head. 
“Innocent, my ass.” Chad let out an indignant gasp. “Don’t you,” you mocked the sound he made, “me, fucker. I’ve walked in on you doing worse.” He gasped again. 
“I would never!” His voice was weighed down with sarcasm and he pressed his textbook to his chest. Chad tsked at you before walked back to the door. “Don’t get cum stains on my bed, assholes.” Ethan let out an embarrassed groan against you skin, and you flipped Chad off again.
“I’m going to move to your bed just to spite you.” Chad scrunched his nose in disgust and Ethan pulled back from your neck to stare at you in shock, praying you weren’t serious.
“You’re fucking disgusting.” Chad, ever the dramatic, pulled the door shut, ensuring that he got the final word. When you looked back to Ethan, he was still looking at you, eyes wide in horror. You winked at him with a smile. 
“You wouldn’t..?” You snorted out a laugh and your head fell back, shaking your head. 
“Fuck no.” You ran the backs of your fingers across his cheek softly, revelling in the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. Ethan sighed, leaning into your fingers. “He would be so lucky.” His mouth dropped open again and you leaned forward to kiss him on the tip of his nose. Ethan let out a contented hum, and the soft sound caused your hips to grind against him on their own. Once again, Ethan’s fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your waist.
“Did he ruin the mood?” Your voice was shy, unsure whether his bruising fingers was a warning to stop, or him trying to hold back. 
“No. Not for me.” Ethan leaned forward as he spoke, saying the words against your shoulder before pressing a light kiss to your skin, rolling his hips up lightly against you to pull a sigh from you while your head rolled back. “Not when you look like that on my lap.” Neither you nor Ethan knew where his confidence came from, but you quickly pushed your questioning aside as he pulled your core down against the tightness in his trousers and bit down on your shoulder softly. 
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moot tagging: @websterss
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krisluxxeeempress · 5 months ago
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WHY ARE THEY MAD? PICK-A- PILE
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Pile One: Work Related
It appears as if you have people in your work environment MAD because they see you making more moves and less announcements these days. With great effort to not jump ahead energetically to read these cards inadvertently lets me know these people are mad because they’re watching you and still somehow confused as to how you are making more moves & advancing ahead of them. Imagine watching an entire movie and missing parts, forcing you to rewind. These people are watching you and confused as to how you are growing in your career, business, creative pursuits etc. The rewind energy I referenced in my example is what is happening to these people who are too busy watching you while they’re life is on hold and or  are being forced to re-do something that they missed in their life. ( Saturn RX energy)
 It feels like I’m writing in a circle, but I know that the energy I am picking up on from those people who are mad at you. You are running circles around these people while they’re watching you!  AND STILL, THEY DON’T SEE YOU COMING. For some of you, they are mad because you found a loophole or some kind of weakness or lack in your respective fields which is the key to your success. While everyone is doing, looking, sounding, thinking, producing the same shit ( excuse my language) you are giving what needs to be gave, effortlessly. It gives heavy unique vibes. Nothing is truly new under the sun, however, whatever it is your doing and or offering appears to be different and to your credit- I am confident it is different. AND THAT IS WHY THEY ARE MAD!! To my next point, you have these people mad because you don’t do what everyone else does. BOOM ! It’s amazing how everyone does, looks, acts, says, moves, smells, and thinks the same while simultaneously thinking they are still different. Like how? EXACTLY. ( questions that need answers) While everyone else is copying and using others for a come up or lifestyle, you seem to be getting it out the mud- quite literally.
You have literally or are in the process of drafting something from scratch meanwhile others just regurgitate basic information, products or “skills” for clout and money. I keep wanting to use the word appear and so there’s something extremely significant about appearances. ( heavy Sun | Leo energy) For those gold diggers out there, man or woman, they are mad at you because they play dummy games and are now being rewarded with dummy prizes. The card, “these hoes aint loyal” (Chris Brown vibes) came out which is why I feel there are some gold diggers in your energy MAD at you. They took the easy, predictable and trifling way out meanwhile you took the harder way, and you are managing to get further ahead ( or will be, this may be a prediction) This could even be the other way around where you come into whichever work| creative field and things start to manifest for you easier and quicker as opposed to those people who may have been doing it longer than you.
TRUST AND BELIEVE- THEY ARE MAD!!!!
Last card out: THEY HAVE TO STAY MAD
PERIOD.
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Pile Two: Single & Won't Mingle
I initially started this reading off with the disclaimer and then I deleted it. Then the energy switched just that fast and so with that being said- you have someone mad that you are not giving warnings, disclaimers, arguing, nagging or fighting for them to act right. This reading has two different scenarios- so stay with me. Some of you may not be single, however, you are dealing with someone who acts single. Feel me? We have all heard of those single married people. This can even be a situation where someone is mad because their ( baby mom or dad) child’s father or mother is acting single. The first card that came out was “ they are mad because you don’t want kids, anymore kids, or none of their kids”. You see why I’m conflicted? This is energy I’m picking up from a single person who refuses to deal with someone who has children. Or this is someone who has children with someone who is acting single.
It gets worse! Someone is mad you will not have sex with them. So, for those who do not have children or want anymore- this person is mad because you feel like that is their goal or simply you are not attracted to or making time for them for whatever reason. It’s messy and I am trying to explain this simply but there’s so many factors. NO WONDER THEY ARE MAD. Someone is also mad you know when, where and how to detach. Basically, someone is mad because you may feel like dealing with them would make things complicated and you are avoiding that outcome as best you can. Now that I follow suite and energetically detach, I can process this much better concluding that these people or person is mad because they want to be emotionally and or sexually involved in your life however, you see the red flags from miles and trials away. This person or people are mad because you are lit and won’t change for them and so this helps put things into better context now. With you being lit, this indicates that you are in a good place in your life whether that be financially, spiritually, emotionally or all the above.
Some of you are not heartbroken, missing anyone from the past or carrying any resentment in your heart. It’s like you have a clean slate in your life and you simply do not want to or are not ready to incorporate someone new or back into your life- & that’s fair. This person is mad because they cannot change your mind- aka manipulate you. This may even be people you don’t even know exist and when they see you, they get triggered because the energy you exude is giving “ fuck off” while simultaneously looking sexy or handsome as hell. No wonder you chose not to be involved; I literally could not think straight when my emotions were involved in the beginning of the reading. Everything was confusing and messy and in my personal experience and from observation- that’s usually what occurs when you get emotionally and sexually involved. Some of you may have strong Neptune, Chiron, Libra, Virgo, Pisces or 7th house placements. You have people mad because you are cautious, picky and unattainable if I’m honest. The next cards out are “ time is money, and you can lose it all and bounce back”. AMAZING . It’s clear a lot of you with this energy and mentality are bouncing back and have experienced that messy and confusing situation before when dealing with others.
With time is money, your energy now reminds me of Pile (1). You have redirected your focus into work related and creative outlets. Those creative outlets may now be work for you. If any of you have strong Neptune, Chiron, Leo, Sun etc. placements ( not limited to) it appears as if you are channeling your sexual aka creative energy into work or creativity. Which is another reason why they are mad especially if you resonate with Pile (1). I am proud of this pile because I can feel how much healing you’ve done. How much you’ve matured and how much wisdom you’ve gained.
On YouTube & TikTok, my “ Why Are They Mad” readings are quite popular however, usually someone is mad for petty, superficial and egotistical reasons. I can honestly say this is the first-time people are mad for VALID AND LEGITIMATE REASONS. I personally want someone to be mad that I’m focused, mature, creative, HEALED & HAPPY and have HIGHER STANDARDS. Hell yeah! This is truly what life is about and I can sense your Divinity. You are truly chosen, and you have DEMONS mad. Aw, I feel kindred spirits here… Just re-read this, the energy started off with low vibration and now (personally) I feel at peace.
WOW! Aw, I love you guys who chose this pile , spiritually I know you….
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Pile Three: Stepping on Necks
Wow, I don’t know where to start. ( 2 minutes later, SpongeBob narrator voice) You have the world, your neighbors, family, foes, haters, ex’s, pastors, teachers- EVERYBODY MAD because your career is taking off. This is profound because this pile is for those who have been the underdog. This pile is for those who have been struggling, overlooked and receiving the bare minimum in all aspects of life- until now. I am not the type of lie, exaggerate or only speak about GOOD THINGS to appease anyone. ( which is why I’m selectively liked) Believe me when I tell you that a major shift has and or is occurring in your life. The cards “ your ass is fatter, and you snapped back after the baby” came out. On the surface, this would mean some of you may have gained weight for a multitude of reasons. Especially if one was struggling emotionally and spiritually- you gained weight due to eating and laziness. Others you gained weight because you had a baby ( congratulations) however, I do not dwell on the surface and so these cards indicate for me that some of you astrologically speaking in a solar return or progressive chart you may have had your moon in Sagittarius, Jupiter in Aries or 1st house, Jupiter in Taurus or 2nd house , Sagittarius or 9th house , Cancer or 4th house, Moon in Cancer or 4th house. ( however, not limited to)
What this means is that you gained weight and you were undergoing spiritual awakenings with hardships. Life has been hard and for some of you, your body took a hit. With the card “ you snapped back after the baby”, that may be the case for those of you this applies to. For the emotional and stress eaters -you will notice that you are starting to lose weight or break the habits that encouraged weight gain. AND THAT’S WHY THEY ARE MAD!!!! It’s never about appearances but more so what’s going on underneath and for most of you, you were holding on and feeding negative energy that is now being released slowly but surely.  Some of you may have let yourself go and now you are snapping back, better than before. Of course they are mad about this!! Back to your career is taking off, some of you work in corporate while others work for themselves. Those working in corporations, you have always been at the bottom and making the bare minimum or simply never gained the respect that was deserved. Those who work for yourself, you have always been overlooked and paid very little if at all. Some of you may have had to go back into working 9-5 corporate jobs because your business was stagnant. People just did not want to support you at all which forced you to go back into “slavery”.
Nonetheless, this is turning around for you Jupiter style. ( or will be ) Astrologically speaking, check your outer planets- Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto – maybe even your progressive or solar return charts because however society treated you- this is changing. You will no longer have to ask for permission, meaning- you will have the financial comfort or freedom to live and afford the things you want/ need without assistance from anyone. In corporate, you may be promoted to a position to where others must report to you, or you no longer must report to someone- there’s more leeway granted to you. Entrepreneurs, this means exactly what it means. You do not have to ask for permission! Business will be getting better; energy levels will be restored, and you can come and go as you please. AND THAT’S WHY THEY ARE MAD! IT’S GIVING MORE FREEDOM THAT OTHER’S DO NOT HAVE AND ENJOYED TAKING FROM YOU OR WORKED HARD TO ENSURE YOU NEVER HAD.  Some of you have people mad because no message is the message. ( DAMN)
Intuitively, I feel like some of you may be moving, changing numbers, jobs, contact emails- the whole nine. Those who had access to you before, no longer will. Of course, people feel the energetic shift ( refer back to those outer planets I’ve mentioned) Those people who counted you out and delighted in believing you would never make progress or move forward- now see you in a different light. They now want to be part of your life and “assist” or “support” you whereas, before you did not have that “privilege”. And yet now you are becoming privileged. ( without them) They are mad you are educated. As far as I’m concerned, knowledge is power and you clearly are the most powerful currently, ready to wield that power. It’s all fun and games when the rabbit has the gun ( some of you may be seeing bunnies a lot lately) & THAT’S WHY THEY ARE MAD!
You are educated, which alludes to some of you being able to go back to school to get degrees or this could be simply be speaking on becoming a wiser person. This can also speak of having a skill or talent that you have mastered and are the best at it. Referring to Pile (1), you have a talent or knowledge that sets you apart which is or will be the key to your success. Lastly, people are mad that “ you ain’t with the bafoolery”. This gives me the vibe that you said you would do something ( like succeed) and you’re doing it. You are proving it. You are true to it. I said lastly, but there’s a bit more I want to cover. And that’s your energy- you will succeed and then some. It reminds me a lyric Drake said, mind you he’s a millionaire, successful and never has to work again but in his lyrics, he said something along the lines of “ any other rapper would have retired but I have more to accomplish”. Blah blah. That’s your energy, you will be giving way more than is expected. ( example, I wrote a whole book for this pile) You will be surpassing others and your even your own expectations. People are mad that you are independent which automatically renders the majority POWERLESS.
Most people need others to need them because it makes them feel important and of course, a need can be capitalized. This whole world thrives ON A NEED. The fact that you’ll be in a position where you are no longer subjected to others, IS POWER & THAT IS WHY EVERYBODY WILL BE MAD. It gives underdog is top dog energy. Lastly, ( truly) like Pile (2), everybody will be mad because you do not want marriage. It’s like Rhianna Vibes, she’s a billionaire and everyone expects her to be married because she has two children. If you read pile (2), you just want to remain unencumbered, detached and not tied down to anyone. Especially after you witnessed the true nature of most people. You are cautious, focused and simple do not have time or energy to invite someone into your life who can and will try to take all that you have worked for ALONE. They did not care nor were they attracted to you when you had nothing so in your mind, it’s best they KEEP THAT SAME ENERGY & THAT’S WHY THEY ARE MAD!!!
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! IF ANY OF THESE PILES RESONATED PLEASE CONSIDER "HEARTING" OR REBLOGGING MY POST. I AM TRYING TO BUILD AND EXPAND MY BLOG AND I NEED YOUR HELP TO DO SO.
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hp-hcs · 1 year ago
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on a slytherin high rn so I'd be interested to see your take on yandere enzo berkshire? (on his own or poly with mattheo or theodore because there's no such thing as too much of the theo's) or just any sort of enzo x male reader.
~yanxidarlings; why you should make your writing blog a primary blog (case study)
poly bc i love my theo boyos ☺️
i tried real hard on this one i swear, just none of my words are wording right 😭
really? nobody has a single request? 🤨🤲
detention — yandere! poly! lorenzo berkshire & yandere! poly! mattheo riddle & yandere! poly! theodore nott x male! hufflepuff! reader
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TWs: possessive/obsessive/toxic behavior, referenced homophobia, implied past repeated homophobia, homophobic slur, implied past bullying, references to past violence, graphic threats of violence, sexual innuendos, implied sexual activities
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“…really, I don’t know what you were thinking. Here, this is the detenti- Mr. Riddle! Mr. Nott! Get off of those desks!” McGonagall scolded, snapping her fingers and casting a wandless spell that made them both fall off of their desks and safely into their chairs.
You hover awkwardly at the doorway of the classroom-turned-detention-room, feeling the sudden piercing eyes of three Slytherins on you.
McGonagall huffs in disappointment, pats your shoulder, and leaves without a word. The boys all share a look you can’t quite decipher.
“Well, well, well. What’ve we got here?” One of them drawls, putting his feet up on his desk and crossing them at the ankle. “A pretty-boy Hufflepuff got in trouble?”
You rock back and forth on your feet, biting your lip nervously.
“Aww, he’s nervous,” another Slytherin cooed patronizingly. “What’s wrong, little badger? Afraid of a few snakes?”
The first boy stands up, sauntering over to you with an obnoxious smirk. He holds his hand out for you to shake.
“Mattheo Riddle, darling.”
You slowly take his hand and shake it, your grip loose.
“Nice to meet you,” you say softly. “I’m Y/N.”
“Y/N,” the second boy purrs, joining the first, Mattheo. “Lovely name for a lovely boy. I’m Theodore, sweetheart.”
You swallow thickly, the two taller boys standing over you.
“Leave ‘im alone, guys,” the last boy speaks up. “I’m calling dibs.”
“W-what?” You squeak, your eyes darting between the three as they all share another wordless look.
“Come along, little badger,” Theodore grins widely, predatorily, slinging an arm over your shoulders. “We don’t bite.”
“Unless you ask us to,” Mattheo adds on, joining your other side and wrapping an arm around your waist.
Your cheeks burn with the innuendo and all of the attention. “Er…no, I’m alright. Thank you.”
“If you ever change your mind…” Mattheo shrugs, leaving the offer unspoken.
The third boy finally stands up, swatting away Mattheo and Theodore. They both, surprisingly, acknowledge him and step away from you.
“Ignore these idiots,” he says fondly. “They think only with their dicks and never their brains.”
The Theos™ immediately break out into loud protests at the accusation. The third Slytherin rolls his eyes.
“I’m Lorenzo, but most people call me Enzo.”
“What do you call yourself?” You ask, voice still soft and almost getting lost in the clamor of the two other boys.
“What?”
“You told me what people call you…but what do you call yourself?”
He blinks.
“Uh, Lorenzo, I guess.”
You nod. “Lovely to meet you, Lorenzo.”
“I have a feeling that it’s lovelier meeting you, Y/N.”
~~~ “So why did you get detention?” Theodore asks, looking up at you from where he lays on the floor of the library, the spot you four had chosen to further converse at after your sentence was served. “You don’t seem like the type to really do…anything wrong.”
You wince, closing your book and relaxing further into the comfortable couch. “I uh, tried to ask this guy to Hogsmeade this weekend-” The boys all sit up at this, a dark look passing over each of their faces. “-but he uh…did not reciprocate,” you laugh humorlessly, running your fingers along your orbital bone.
They can barely see it—it’s still too early—but a definite bruise is starting to form. It’s going to turn into a hell of a black eye by tomorrow.
“He hit you?” Theodore asks, his voice low.
You shrug. “Comes with the territory of being the uh, ‘Puff Poof’, as they call me.”
“Creative. Put a lot of work into that one.”
“Tell me about it,” you grumble.
“Wait, how did you get in trouble then? If you were the one who got beat up in the first place?” Mattheo asks, his face scrunched up in confusion.
“Oh, I called Dumbledore a uh…‘batshit crazy abuser with a sanctimonious attitude and a god complex’. As it turns out, he did not like that.”
They all stare at you for a moment before bursting into laughter.
“Holy shit.”
“Talk about misjudging someone, damn.”
Your laughter eventually dies off and the conversation comes back around.
“So, Y/N, uh, what was this guy’s name?” Lorenzo asks sweetly, innocently. “Just..curious, is all.”
You huff, rolling your eyes. “Cormac McLaggen.”
They all collectively grimace.
“I know, okay? No need to rub it in.”
“You have terrible taste,” Mattheo scowls. “Asking out fucking McLaggen when we’re right here.”
“Yeah, don’t need to worry about him anymore, sweetheart,” Theodore says, sitting up from his spot on the floor and moving over to settle between your thighs and rest his chin on your knee. “We’re enough, aren’t we?”
Your cheeks burn at their words.
~~~ “What’re you all doing, bringing a Puff in here?” A fourth year jeers as the boys lead you through the Slytherin common room to the dorm they all share.
Theodore stares at the kid with his dead eyes; unnerving to everyone in the common room.
“If you even so much as look at him again, I’ll carve your eyes out in your sleep.”
The threat comes not from Theodore, but Lorenzo.
You gape, bewildered, as Lorenzo leads you down the hall, humming to himself like nothing happened.
“Same goes for you, you know,” Mattheo leans down to murmur in your ear. “Don’t even think about looking at another boy, got that, lovely?”
You reach their dorm and are roughly pulled inside, the door being slammed shut behind you all. Theodore pushes you up against the wall, pinning you in place.
“Ours, understand?”
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the-roo-too · 8 months ago
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not my fault -> plastic! oh haewon
-the trio owns the school, but you own the queen bee’s heart
warnings: loosely referencing mean girls; basically making out in the closet lol; more of a short drabble than an oneshot tbh
genre: secret relationship; fluffish
notes: i might be in love with reneé rapp
⌦ .。.:*♡
as your lunch tray hit the table with a soft thud, you became aware of how quiet your spot in the cafeteria was compared to the other tables.
while you wouldn’t necessarily call yourself a loner, you wouldn’t be caught dead talking to someone without a reason. it just felt like none of the cliques were for you.
taking a small bite out of your food, you could feel a pair of eyes burning into the back of your head. even from across the cafeteria, the sensation was unmistakable.
the table in the middle of the room was occupied by the most influential trio in the whole school—the plastics. not to be mistaken with an environmental group, the plastics were a very closed off clique, like a teen royalty.
there was bae jinsol, an actually nice girl. she just wasn’t on the brightest side. rumour has it she tried to spell orange with a ‘d’ once.
then there was seol yoona, more commonly known as sullyoon. she knew everything about everyone and had connections basically everywhere.
at last, there was an apex predator. the queen bee of the school. the devil in human form.
oh haewon. the girl who’s eyes were currently burning holes in the back of your head.
one secret not even sullyoon knew about was the one that you shared with haewon.
despite all the rumours of her hooking up with this or that jock, she was very much not interested in men. you were the only one she had her eye on.
⌦ .。.:*♡
haewon let her eyes linger on you for a little longer before she turned her attention to her friends with a bored sigh. sullyoon was yet again talking about some boy she had in her gym class. no one worthy her attention.
“what’s his name again?” she asked in a dismissive tone.
when sullyoon looked at her, slight hurt flashed in her eyes. the queen be rarely ever listened to them.
“jake.” she said before smiling stiffly. “the one i’ve been talking about for a week.”
“yeah, i remember now.” a bored sigh escaped haewon’s lips before she turned her attention to the third girl in their clique. “say, jinsol, wasn’t he invited to your party this friday?”
“who, jake?” bae glanced briefly at yoona as she nodded. “i think so.”
“great. i’ll help you talk to him then.” sullyoon looked at her in shock before a small smile broke out on her face.
“thank you, haewon.”
“it’s whatever. you guys wanna skip the rest today?” she got approving nods from her friends, making her grin softly. “i’ll meet you two by my car. i have to go see minjae before we leave.”
sullyoon smiled at her, as did bae. they both thought she was dating one of the jocks—she did let him be seen with her sometimes. he thought she was just playing hard to get, while in reality she just kept him around for appearances.
haewon typed a quick text to the contact ‘my baby 🩷’ before she stood up from the plastics table and left the cafeteria.
⌦ .。.:*♡
“i missed you…” she whispered, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, keeping your body close to the wall. “you looked so pretty today, my baby.“
“i missed you too, haewon…” you mumbled back against her lips, gently kissing her. those intimate moments in the janitor’s closet weren’t ideal, but it was all you could get in school without being caught.
“i told jinsol and yoona i was seeing that jock again… does that make you jealous, pretty girl?” the grin she sent you made you feel weak in her hold. she knew damn well what she was doing, and boy did she enjoy it.
“you know it does… i hate that we have to hide.”
“awh.” her soft pout didn’t ease your nerves as much as she hoped it would. “i’m sorry, babe. you know i can’t have people knowing i’m gay. do you know how much it would cost me?”
“yeah.” you gave her a weak glare before kissing her pink lips yet again. “you care about your reputation more than you care for me.”
“i wouldn’t be sneaking into this dirty closet with you during lunch time if i didn’t care, would i? you knew what you were getting into when i told you this had to be a secret.”
of course she was right. when was oh haewon ever wrong though?
“it’s not my fault you fell for me, silly girl.”
“i hate that you’re right.”
she grinned at you, her free hand sneaking to your waist. “course you do.”
⌦ .。.:*♡
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lovelytsunoda · 6 months ago
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purple haze // charles leclerc
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summary: writing a novel is a long an arduous process. luckily for y/n, she has a very supportive partner in crime, and when it all works out, he's the only person she would want by her side.
pairing: charles leclerc x author reader
warnings: alcohol consumption, talk of deadlines, book referenced is a good girls guide to murder by holly jackson. gets a lil steamy towards the middle but nothing comes of it. still not sure how i feel about this one, but i havent written for charles in forever and i got an idea i really liked but i don't know if it worked out when i put it on paper.
by the time y/n closed her laptop, she felt like her fingers were going to fall off. she leaned back in her desk chair, gutted to find that the monaco cityscape outside her living room window was now pitch black, as might had fallen on the city.
her first book had been a red-wine and oasis fuelled fever dream, the last three chapters being written to ‘don’t look back in anger’. and now, the final edits were done.
“I’m so proud of you, mon tresor.” charles gushed, bringing her another glass of wine.
“the last three years are finally paying off. a good girls guide to murder is done, and the world is ready to meet pippa and ravi.” she grinned, clinking her glass against her boyfriends.
she had poured three years of her life into that book, and Charles had been by her side for all of it. through numerous rejections, edits and late night idea-vomit, nobody was prouder than charles was so see it work out for her.
and now he knew she needed a break.
taking her hand in his, he gently dragged her out of the desk chair and towards the couch, placing their wineglasses on the coffee table as he urged y/n to sit on the ground between his legs.
his hands were warm as he began to massage her shoulders, attempting to release the tension caused by the last round of edits, which she had worked on almost from sunup to sundown.
“there’s still so much to do.” she whined, tilting her head back to look up at her lover. “now there’s arcs and extra promotions and finding advance reviewers and-“
charles cut her off with a kiss. “none of that right now. right now, you and me are going to finish this bottle of wine and watch something pointless on tv.”
smiling to herself, y/n got up from the floor and moved to the leather couch, slipping seamlessly into charles' lap and nestling against his chest. his body was warm, and his sweater soft. even if his cologne was a little bit too strong, he made her feel safe. treasured.
"that sounds perfect." she hummed, gently turning his face so she could kiss him. "thank you for supporting me."
"always, my love." charles smiled before kissing her again.
SIX MONTHS LATER
it was half past five in the morning when the phone rang. charles could sleep through just about anything, but it was the vibrations of the phone against her side table that woke y/n.
she looked over at her sleeping lover, pressing a gentle kiss to the smooth skin on his shoulder blades before slipping out of bed and creeping into the hallway to answer a call from her agent, cecelia.
"cece, its five in the morning. couldn't this have waited?"
ceclia cleared her throat. "i've just heard from the american office. the preliminary numbers for the new york times list are in."
"fuck. how did we do?" she closed her eyes, holding up her crossed fingers and praying to every god she wasn't sure she believed in.
and when cecelia spoke again, she almost dropped her phone.
"okay. thank you for letting me know, cece."
she slipped back into the bedroom, bare, dry feet sinking into the plush carpet at the end of the bed before she sat down at the end of the bed, gripping the phone so tightly that her knuckles had gone white.
"mon amour." charles rasped, exhaustion in his voice as he rolled over onto his back. "what's wrong?"
"i just got a call from cecelia." she started, trying not to let her emotions show through. "she's just been on the phone with our american agent with the new york times numbers."
charles sat up, one of his warm hands going to rest on her thigh. "and?' he asked hesitantly, his piercing eyes meeting her uncertain ones in the dark.
"i made the top ten." she shouted, grin spreading all across her features.
making the new york times list had made everything worth it. all the sleepless nights when she had woken up with an idea she was scared to lose, all the rewrites, the weeks of writers block. the rejections, the aggravation, the insecurity.
this was it.
she had done it.
"i'm so proud of you." charles beamed, folding her into a hug. "i knew you could do it, my brilliant girl."
she dropped her phone on the bed, red-faced and giggly as she kissed him, allowing her hands to wander across his toned chest. "wanna show me just how much?"
THREE YEARS LATER
the theater was almost silent when the lights came up, the end credits of the final episode fading out on the screen. she held her breath, fingers gripping charles' hand so tightly that she thought she might break the fragile bones in her husband's fingers.
oh, yeah. they had gotten married about a year after her book had come out, while she was in the middle of writing as good as dead, the conclusion to the series.
since a good girls guide to murder had come out, her life had changed for the better. she felt more secure in herself and her talent, and the words had never come easier when she started writing the sequel, eager ton continue the story. she had since written two more books to complete the trilogy, as well as two standalone novels: five survive and the reappearance of rachel price. around the time that rachel price was announced, she had gotten another call from cecelia, asking if she and charles could come to london and meet with representatives from the bbc.
they wanted to turn her first book into a tv series.
she had been hands on from the beginning, throwing herself into her work and doing her best to make sure that the version of the story the readers saw on screen was the version that she had visualized when she'd first explained the storyboard to charles, the driver helping her connect everything on their living room wall with red yarn.
and now was the time. the time to see if it had all paid off. the theater was filled with minor celebrities, influencers, and the tiktokers who had made her book blow up in popularity.
it all came down this night.
"it's okay. whatever happens, you know you did your best." charles whispered in her ear, running one hand up and down her bare back. underneath the flimsy straps of her red dress.
she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath when the roar off applause began to drown her.
she rode the rush of emotions, allowing the tears of gratification and relief to ruin her mascara as she let her body go slack, resting against charles as she watched the room rise in a standing ovation for pippa and ravi.
"we did it. we made it, charles." she laughed, tilting her head up to kiss him.
"no, cherie. you did this. they're all here for you."
she watched as the event's host, a former spice girl that charles knew through his paddock connections, stepped out into the middle of the small stage set up at the front of the theater.
"and now, the moment i'm sure you've all been waiting for, a few words from y/n /y/l/n-leclerc!"
she wiped her eyes and fixed her hair, taking a deep breath before she walked across the stage, taking the microphone from geri halliwell, and turning to face the crowd.
in the front row, there was charles. her one true love. her biggest supporter.
and in that moment, she truly allowed herself to believe that she had made it.
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moominsuki · 2 years ago
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✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — katsuki still hates valentine’s but he’d rather die than let you get wooed by some second rate hero.
࿄ ! warnings — none. very sweet & fluffy. suggestive if you squint. / note. part 2 to the valentine’s day drabble. my anti shindo yo agenda always comes through hehe.
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when bakugou walked into his agency on the early morning of valentine’s day, he hadn’t expected to see a mop of black hair lingering around your office. your door was closed, which was uncharacteristic of you, and bakugou knew you didn’t start work today until at least 2 hours after he arrived.
“yo, what’s up, dynamight! long time no see. came here to drop some paperwork off but might as well drop a few other things while i’m here,” shouts the hero grand and bakugou thinks he’s unable to hold back a visual shiver of disgust. shindo is grazing around your desk and bakugou notices the huge bouquet of roses in a velvet box and a small pandora bag.
“what d’ya think you’re doing in y/n’s office, exactly? she doesn’t clock in ‘til 9,” bakugou says, prodding at shindo verbally. the black haired man laughs at bakugou’s accusatory tone and dismisses him with a wave of his hand.
“a little birdie told me that you hate valentine’s day, which i mean, to each your own, but what kind of man wouldn’t shower a beautiful woman with gifts on this wonderful day?” shindo practically sings and bakugou wants to punch him for even talking about you. as if you’d ever like him… right?
that would be silly, bakugou thinks. you’d have to be completely different from the girl he knew knows to ever indulge the likes of yo shindo.
“it’s a shame, really, you know, that you can’t get y/n anything. you know, cos you’re her boss and all. and she told me just how much you think it sucks. at least i’m here to save the day, right?” shindo bites and every word referencing you feels like a slap to bakugou’s face.
at this point, bakugou has had enough of the man, “think you’re forgetting you came to my agency unannounced so i suggest you just drop your shit and leave. next time, get your assistant to do your dirty work,” grumbles bakugou and shindo laughs all boisterous at the brimming anger in the blond’s tone.
“i’ll get out of your hair, dynamight. by the way, you don’t need to tell y/n to check out the gifts. i want it to be surprise, ya get me? thanks bro,” says shindo as he walks from your desk and attempts to pat down bakugou’s chest in ‘good fun’ but bakugou swerves the man and goes to your vacant desk to pick up his paperwork.
shindo chuckles breathily to himself and bakugou doesn’t grace him with a look until he hears the man’s steps fade away. bakugou finally exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and drops the paperwork down to scope out shindo’s gifts for you.
in bakugou’s opinion, they looked like shit. coloured roses in a box is extremely tacky and wouldn’t last even two weeks before rotting. bakugou attacks the pandora bag and opens it in a hurry to see a black ring box holding a silver, halo ring. bakugou scoffs at this: for a man who wanted so badly to prove himself as superior to him, shindo was sure blind to the tastes of a woman such as yourself. bakugou was pretty sure he’d never even see you wear a piece of silver jewellery and you once told him that halo rings were “tacky and so 2012.”
if shindo wanted to play this game, then bakugou would beat him so severely and it wouldn’t even be close. yeah, maybe you were right - maybe he did hate valentine’s day. but he’d enjoy the shitty day if it meant you’d want him over that idiot. and even though he despises fighting for someone’s affection, he hopes that maybe you’ll want him just as much as he wants you.
ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ
“morning, y/n! hope you had a good lie in,” chirps bakugou’s secretary gleefully and you smile at her.
“honestly, i needed this. even though i did wanna be here for the early valentine morning, i would not trade my extra sleep,” you laugh, “that reminds me: did you get anything for valentine’s?”
bakugou’s secretary giggles in delight as she stands up to show multiple bags filled to the brim with gifts and you gasp in a mixture of shock and envy.
“you know that gucci bag i wanted? he got me the bag! he really does get me,” sighs bakugou’s secretary and you have to hide a twitch in your eye as you clap your hands together and look among the bags of chocolate, flowers and cards.
“i’m so happy for you!” you exclaim and you hug when kirishima comes in earshot.
“happy valentine’s day, you guys! have anything planned, y/n?” kiri asks and you shrug, all non-committal.
“not much on the agenda for me, ‘m afraid. just gonna finish up a few assignments and swallow down the pain,” you say jokingly and both of your coworkers look at you sympathetically and you want to slap them for pitying you.
“valentine’s isn’t just about romance anyway! you’re loved by all of us,” says bakugou’s assistant and a part of you wants to argue with her for treating you like a petulant little girl.
“guys, ‘m fine, seriously! i’m just gonna head to my office and finish up some things. who knows how the day’ll turn out?” you say, with a slightly embittered tone and it sounds like you’re trying to kid not only the others but yourself too.
you wave the two goodbye and make way to head into your office. huh. that’s strange. you usually always keep your door unlocked after every shift just in case kirishima or bakugou wanted to sift through any missing paperwork.
“whatever,” you think, “maybe the cleaners locked up last night. let me just fish the keys out my bag.”
after grabbing your keys and making note of which one unlocks to your office (you remember half way through jingling your keys around that bakugou painted it orange and red), you open the door haphazardly; simultaneously trying to stuff your things back into your handbag and move in with one leg. when your bag is in good shape and your loose tissues aren’t falling out, you look up to your workspace and your eyes are so wide it’s almost comical.
a bouquet of baby’s breath, pink tulips and snapdragons sit in a bouquet of blue and white tissue paper and a gold looking chain looms the flowers together. there’s a little card situated amongst the flowers and you go to touch it when you see a box and a big, blue gift bag on your desk and chair.
you cover your mouth and gasp in attempt to hold back your shock and delight as you see the bag is labelled “Tiffany’s” and you pull out two velvet boxes: one for a gold necklace with a red heart detail and the other is a gold Tiffany heart ring.
holding almost all your gifts, you decide to take apart the box, sheathed in heart patterned wrapping paper and a box of your favourite pastries sits in them. at this point, you feel like you could cry. who was this person? why would they do all this?
at that moment, you stupidly remember the card in the bouquet and pull it to see scrawny handwriting:
“dear y/n,
happy valentine’s day. hope this will do for all the work you do for me.
love, katsuki,”
you smile and only then do the tears start brimming as you hug the bouquet close to your chest.
ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ
when bakugou heads back from patrol, the office is rumbling with gifts and chatter. he rolls his eyes at this but he entertains the lovesick behaviour of his employees anyway - he even let denki paint his pinky nails pink to “embrace the loving spirit” as denki would put it.
“bakugou! here, come quick!” yells kirishima as he beckons his blond friend over to him by the front of his office.
“what d’ya want now? can’t you lot just celebrate this day without bothering me? ‘already let that idiot paint stupid hearts on my nails,” grumbles bakugou and kirishima shushes him.
“it’s not about that, but you didn’t have to paint your nails - ok, sorry, wait-” kirishima grabs bakugou back and practically whispers (though not discreetly by kirishima fashion), “did you see what y/n got in her office? someone just bought her a shit ton of things!” exclaims the red-head and bakugou shrugs nonchalantly.
“good for y/n. why you telling me this?” bakugou asks suspiciously and kirishima beckons him over with another wave of his hand to whisper again.
“apparently it was shindo yo who got her all that fancy stuff. who would’ve thought, right?”
bakugou’s eyes bulge out his head and his face almost turns as red as kirishima’s hair.
“what?! i mean - ‘s not like i care but where’s y/n right now?” interrogates bakugou and kirishima smiles knowingly but stops to prevent bakugou from being suspicious.
“luckily for you, she’s in her office! you should definitely go to her right now,” kirishima says, pushing his friend towards the office door and nodding at him.
bakugou takes a deep breath before knocking and opening the door, not waiting for your reply. he slams the door in kirishima’s face - you know, as insurance against his prying eyes.
“hey, y/n?” says bakugou slowly and you’re typing away at your desk. the box of pastries he bought you sat next you and were half eaten and the flowers he bought you sat prettily in a vase on the edge of your desk.
as soon as you hear bakugou’s voice, you look up and basically run over to him to throw your arms around his neck. albeit, it’s slightly difficult due to his neck piece but you make due and hug him anyway. bakugou is stiff when he feels you press into him and you pull back to see his somewhat confused expression and you move back at his lack of reciprocation.
“sorry for that - it’s just, thank you for the gifts. i loved them, really. everything was beautiful, especially the necklace,” you say, pulling the necklace out of your white collared shirt.
bakugou narrows his eyes, “you know i got these for you?”
“yeah?” you say and it’s your turn to be confused, “unless there’s another bakugou who put his name on the card and the receipts-”
the cogs turn in bakugou’s head and curses at kirishima in his head, “‘m gonna kill shitty-hair one of these days,” bakugou sighs and you raise a brow.
“why would you do that?” you ask and bakugou shakes his head.
“doesn’t matter. and you’re welcome, by the way. it’s what you deserve,” bakugou curtly nods and you smile so prettily at him and he wants to kiss you so bad. he regrets not hugging you back just now and he’s not sure how to initiate it again.
“you really shouldn’t have spent so much on me, really!”
“tsk, there’s a lot more i wanted to get you, princess,” and it slips out before bakugou could stop it from coming out of his mouth. he’s about to apologise until he sees you look at him with stars in your eyes and your bottom lip is tucked under your teeth.
“oh yeah, like what? what does a ‘princess’ like me deserve?” you entertain him and you test the waters by walking closer to him and bakugou groans and swipes a hand across his face in embarrassment and to prevent you from seeing his face from getting redder and redder.
“i would’ve gotten you the world and it still couldn’t be enough for someone like you,” he breathes out and bakugou closes the gap between you, your chin up to his chest.
“i don’t think i know what i’ve done to deserve this praise,” you whisper and you rest your hands on the planes of his widely built chest and he tenses but quickly relaxes so as to not ruin all the momentum built up at this moment.
“you deal with all my shit even though you don’t ‘ave to,” mumbles bakugou and his hand lifts at your jaw slightly so you’re only a breath away from his cupid’s bow.
“you’re right that i don’t have to. but i like dealing with all your shit. means you trust me,” you say in a hushed tone and both your bated breaths are mingling on each other’s lips.
“trust you more than anything. d’ya trust me?” bakugou asks and you nod at him, wide eyed.
however, this doesn’t satisfy the man and his thumb grazes your jaw and you sigh.
“wanna hear you say it,” bakugou contends.
“trust you with my life, katsuki,” you murmur and bakugou leans in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss.
his hand sits on your chin and your hands pull at his black shirt when you feel him nip at your bottom lip and suck your tongue. the kiss is way too passionate for the workplace and you can feel yourself go numb in the legs.
it’s like bakugou has a sixth sense because he swoops in to sit his large hands to your waist and you to softly pet at his face and his neck. it’s akin to a competition of who can feel the most of each other without bordering on inappropriate but you both can’t get enough. it’s only when you’re out of breath do you pull back and bakugou blinks at you, all dumbstruck like a teenage boy. you giggle a little at him and bakugou playfully pinches at the fat of your hips while you yelp.
“whatchu laughin’ at me for?” he grunts and you pull at his cheek in return.
“it’s nothing, it’s just - this whole time, i thought you hated valentine’s day. what gives?” you inquire and the man ponders a little - though he knew you both knew the answer.
bakugou knocks his head on yours and you pout and he chuckles at you, “‘s like shitty-hair said. didn’t know the right person was always in fron’ of me.”
you ‘boop’ at his nose and bakugou’s face visibly scrunches, “you thought wrong. still, thank you for putting up with my… things. even though you can say you like the decorations, i can see right through you,” you say, matter of fact and bakugou groans.
“yeah, yeah, you got me there. i hate all that extra shit. but if it makes you happy, then i’ll hate it in privacy.”
you smile warmly and pull him down to give him a few more kisses. best valentine’s day ever.
BONUS:
“and by the way, kiri told me that shindo came over by the office today but i wasn’t in. did he need something important?” you ask the blond over lunch in his office and bakugou shakes his head.
“fuck if i know, princess. dunno why he was in there but it was just some paperwork and i dealt with it for you,” mentions bakugou offhandedly and you ‘aww’ at him before kissing his cheek and feeding him some of your onigiri.
ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ
“are you sure this is the right place? kacchan gave us strict instructions to discard of this discreetly,” asks deku and todoroki nods.
“yeah, this is the exact coordinates… now that i’m looking at it, what kind of uncultured idiot would buy roses in a box? they go stale after a week,” chastises todoroki and deku taps his foot in agreement.
“well, let’s do it in three, okay?”
an explosion goes off in the distance and you look at bakugou confused and then disappointed.
“you’d think villains would take a day off even on valentine’s day!” you lecture, mouth full and bakugou makes a noise of consensus and pokes at your food-filled cheek with one hand and texts a thumbs up to deku and todoroki with the other.
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࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.
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junabuggy · 8 months ago
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Hi there!
Would you please make some platonic Alastor x reader headacanons? Basically, best friend hc's :)
Alastor x Reader: Bestfriend headcanons
A/n: Ofc !! Best friend headcanons are fun as hell to write 😽 (writers block is killing me rn tho so I’m sorry if this is bad, I have some more headcanons kinda similar to this here andddd here)
Warnings: none
Fluff✔️ Comfort❌ Angst❌ Smut❌
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📻𖤐 Gossip sessions with Alastor would actually be the best omg
📻𖤐 Would 1000% shit talk with you about like… almost everybody.
📻𖤐 Would not have the sessions over tea though, he hates tea and prefers to drink just straight up black coffee (sometimes with a splash of cream, depends on the day)
📻𖤐 Bro does NOT know how to ask to hangout properly. He just shows up and expects you to be ready for his arrival 😭😭
📻𖤐 Like literally he will just randomly materialize himself in your room and stares at you (not exactly quietly though, silly radio man makes radio sounds)
📻𖤐 You’re his bestie? Congrats !! You now have the privilege of getting to manhandle him
📻𖤐 Then again it kinda depends on what mood he’s in. Grumpy? No touch. Happy? Calm?? Sure !!
📻𖤐 How to even become Alastor’s best friend?? Well…
📻𖤐 He’s quite literally a magnet for sweet women. Be a sweet woman who’s maybe batshit crazy as well and you’re pretty much set /hj
📻𖤐 But obviously you do have to be entertaining or interesting to him as well.
📻𖤐 He’s a biter. He bites to show affection 😭
📻𖤐 I know I’ve said this and referenced this a LOT but dancing with him??? He loves it. No matter the time or place.
📻𖤐 PROTECTIVE.
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𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞
ᯓ★ 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐲
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