#reed beat him up a little for me.....

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

i forgot to post, but this was my honest reaction to webnovel ch 215 (some time post-vinchester arc).

sent to a friend who hasn't read the story but knows that reed is head over heels in love with ailette.

[newspecies]

hi. im normal about books. now everyone go read Lone Women by Victor LaValle

[squiddy-god]

types of affection

(xiao, childe, albedo, zhongli)

What types of affection do they prefer giving and receiving? Yet another re upload

♥︎REQUEST ARE OPEN♥︎ don't be shy, send request for any of the fandoms on my fandom list, you can even recommend shows/games if they aren't there. Or even if you just want to chat! Anon is also always open!

Xiao 

Giving : gift giving, acts of service 

Alright so xiao knows very little about affection, his words are to rigid and his actions stiff, so those are out- 

But he gifts you things, its cute really, the bright blush on his face when he gifts you unusual gifts. 

Anything that reminds you of him, a pinecone he saw under leaves, small trinkets and animals made from leafs, rocks and smooth stones he finds by the water reeds, anything really

You won't know it at first but all the gifts he gives you are adeptal amulets, they ward of evil and bring protection, he'd never admit this fact but it's true, he fears for you so if you find hilichurls suddenly running from you its most likely coming from the small gift xiao gave 

Acts of service can vary, anything from accompanying you on a commission to clearing out a camp of hillichurls that was in your path, xiao finds himself doing little things for you

Receiving : acts of service, physical touch, words of affirmation, quality time 

Xiao has been serving liuye for thousands of years, if you do anything for him hes going to be smitten 

Xiao likes to say that the things he does is solely his burden to carry, but the things you do for him he appreciates greatly, anything from making him almond tofu to rubbing his shoulders after a fight

His favorite to receive is if you play an instrument, even just humming a tune, it calms him and lets him feel at ease, like the karmic debt no longer beats on his soul. 

While xiao is stiff when giving physical affection at first, to scared of hurting you to initiate it, he does love it 

Xiao has most likely never felt or has forgotten the feeling of genuine physical affection, the feeling of your skin against his, your hands spread against his chest, its addicting t him 

Xiao likes to feel loved, the fact that you want him close to you, that you feel safe in his arms, it warms his heart and makes him realise what he's been missing for so long, and now that he knows the feeling, he craves it 

Xiao won't initiate physical touch, but he longs for it, and if you're on the roof of Wangshu Inn he expects you to be near him, as close as possible.

Xiao is insecure, his thoughts rage and cloud his mind, he often has doubts, and while he knows that you wouldn't simply leave him, and he has faith in you, words of affirmation are appreciated 

Tell him that he's loved, that you aren't going anywhere, that he’s enough and will always be enough

He claims he doesn't need reassurance but the way his arms hold you tighter says otherwise 

Xiao is also a fan of quality time, simply being in your presence calms him and he craves the feeling of you next to him. 

At times like this spoken words are not needed, he just wants to know your next to him.

Childe (tartaglia) 

Giving : gift giving, acts of service, physical touch 

While the concept is the same, the execution is far different from xiao 

Childe gifts you lots of expensive things, if he sees it and ir remiss him of you, or you stare at something to long- there's no holding him back 

That being said all of his gifts are very well thought out and usually very sentimental 

He gifts things that have meaning, things that relate to your interest and hobbies- and trust me, he knows all of your interest and hobbies (S I M P) 

I have a headcanon that childe is hopelessly pathetic at arts and crafts, it always ends up as a disaster and he gets embarrassed, so he’s probably tried to make you something and it turned out,,,charming yet awful,,,he was about to scrap it when you saw it and it's probably the only time you've seen mr. saveu fatui so flustered 

Childes acts of service are a lot difret from xiaos-

Xiao wants to make your life a little easier, childe wants a hit list 

Deadass this man wants names and, if you would be so kind, addresses 

If you need someone taken care of then he's your man, and he gets excited about it too (psychopath) 

Of course he’ll also do normal things for you, like helping you lift boxes too heavy for you, or beating up hillichurls, he’ll even cook for you! He’ll honestly do anything you ask (S I M P) 

Childe is especially clingy as work takes him away so often, besides that he strikes me and a generally touchy guy, he likes to feel close to you 

Big fan of having you in his lap but he’ll settle for anything he can get, be it hand holding or an arm around your waste he’ll take it. 

Receiving : gift giving, physical touch, words of affirmation 

Child doesn't want you to buy thing for him, he wants handmade things, even if your as hopeless as he is, his heart melts if you gift him something you made,

Anything you make him becomes one of his most treasured possessions, it becomes something he genuinely cherishes and he wont shut up about it 

He’ll gush about it for weeks and no one can stop him 

As i said before, childe is a touchy guy, he likes to feel you against him, but you initiate affection? YES YES YES YES YES sign him up 

 He seems like he'd enjoy if you came up behind him and hugged him, hed tease you at first but inside hes melting and squealing 

Praise him, he lives for it tbh 

If he beat a hard monster tell him how strong he is, childe is a prideful man and your praise is something he greatly enjoys 

Complimenting him on just about anything will get you rewarded with a barrage of kisses and a firm hug 

Btw he gives great hugs, theyre strong hugs that make you think “holy hell did you fight a bear?” and they have a warmth to them that makes you feel at home. He doesn't do side hugs, it's full on hugs or no hugs 

Back to words, if you get sappy and genuinely sentimental he will get SO flustered 

Albedo 

Giving : quality time, gift giving 

Albedo loves spending time with you, weather you simply keep him company during his experiments or walking with him thru the streets of mondstat, albedo loves spending time with you 

Claims he focuses better if your in his presence (it's a total lie) 

Albedo likes to be able to sit with you while you eat, he's big on eating together and it gives him a (much needed) break 

He also loves taking walks with you, the closeness brings a warm feeling to his chest and a smile to his face 

Albedo also enjoys giving you pictures, often times theyre of you or things that make him think of you, anything from a sketch of you working or of a flower that made him think of you, a cute bird or a simple landscape, no matter what the sketch is of he always takes time to explain exactly why he decided to sketch that particular item or moment 

His reasons are always very sweet, especially when he shyly tells you he just thought you looked cute in that moment. 

Don't be surprised if you get a random branch or twig on your desk or nightstand, because albedo with casually take leaves and turn them into twigs (like in his idle animation) especially when he finds his mind wandering to you

Albedo is a sweetheart and wants to spend time with you.

Receiving : quality time and acts of service 

Albedo loves that you want to spend time with him, he wants you to be as interested in him as he is with you, so your enthusiasm to spend time with him makes him happy

He likes doing domestic things with you, cooking, cleaning, eating meals together are all things he greatly enjoys

He also loves it if your interested in his work, sitting and watching him work makes his heart soar and makes him feel loved 

Look, i like albedos voice a lot, it so calming and gentle- so like, sitting in bed by candle light, leaned against albedos shoulder while he reads outloud, occasionally planting a kiss on the crown of your head

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Albedo appreciates you doing little things for him (his quest be like) 

This isn't just you running errands for him but also things like bringing him a little snack or a cup of water, dusting his study (don't move things, just dust) helping him button his shirt (dse it even have buttons?) things like that, small things that just make his life a little easier 

*cough* kissing his temple and handing him a cup of coffee, sleepy voice whispering a little encouragement while he turns to give you a proper kiss. *cough* 

Overall albedo is very chill and his affection is much the same, gentle domestic things and time spent together never fails to put a smile on his face 

I love domestic albedo 

Zhongli 

Another domestic husband 

Giving : quality time and words of affirmation 

Zhongli absolutely LOVES quality time spent with you, he loves to simply be able to bask in your presence, to calmly sip tea and listen to your voice 

Its often that zhongli will be sitting quietly in whatever room your in, it doesn't matter what your doing, be it dishes or reading, he’ll be sitting and watching you with nothing but adoration in his eyes 

He also loves when you sit next to him, curled up by his side while he reads to you or tells you stories 

His voice is *chef kiss* and listening to his storeys is always so calming 

The gentle like filtering threw the windows as his voice recounts tales of many years ago, his gloved thumb gently smoothing over your cheek. His arm wrapped around your shoulders as you sip your tea and eagerly listen to him. 

Zhongli is domestic, long hours of time where he does nothing but savor the feeling of being with you, no need for spoken words when everything feels as if it has slipped into place. 

Zhongli has a very proper way of speaking, his words carry the weight of mountains behind them, nothing spoken without meaning and intent behind them

Zhongli has no issue speaking his mind, and the same applies to you. 

He gives lots of complements, especially when he notices something different about you 

You'll never doubt zhonglis love, how could you when his words are always spoken like facts? 

I mean how can you argue when he states complements as if theyre set in stone? 

The simple answer is that you can't. And if you try to argue you’ll face the wrath of the rock (his kisses lmao)

Receiving : physical affection and quality time  

Shhhhhhhhhhh- zhongli loves physical affection and i'll die on this hill

 Zhongli after so many lonly years finally has you,  and he longs for the touch of your hands and the feeling of your lips on his 

Zhongli melts into your touch, leaving into your hand cupping his face while he kisses your wrist with the utmost gentleness 

Zhongli can't imagine he's comfortable to cuddle with, his skin is tight and has little to no give, his body is as hard as a rock, yet you snuggle into his side- it always brings a smile to his face 

Zhongli is not an impulsive man yet he is often overcome with the burning urge to kiss you, he thinks hes slick but its all to obvious how his eyes drift and fixate on your lips, if you look close enough you might even see the way his pupils dilate, drawing into thinner slits when they stare

Zhongli loves if you take the time to get ready with him in the mornings, spending the morning with you is always very pleasant 

Idk bout you but i'd be glad to get woken up if i was getting woken up by zhonglis voice 

He wakes up early and brews tea every morning, and once its done he’ll rub circles on your back to gently wake you up, placing a kiss on your head and asking how you slept. 

PLEASE offer to tie his tie for him he will melt 

Hed smile and let you tie his tie, gently taking your wrists in his large hands and placing a kiss on your knuckles before planting a kiss on your lips 

Domestic zhongli is the best zhongli

[hellfire--cult]

Johnny Storm x Fem!Reader

wc: 6.7k+

summary: Johnny grows infatuated with you, something he never thought was going to happen to him, at least for a long while. He liked being single, but then you came along, and all he could think about was you... then you got kidnapped thanks to him, and he felt so guilty for it... but not everything was as it seemed.

warnings: +18 smut, p in v (no protection), roughness, hate fucking, some fluffiness, branding of skin, description of getting burnt, slapping, some violence, porn with plot

a/n: I had this vision that needed to be written cause it would not leave my fucking mind, and this was the only chance i would be able to write something like this. I will clarify, this is my first ever MCU fic, and I do not believe I will write anything else for it, at least not now. If you are from the MCU fandom, and decide to follow me, don't expect more really... i mainly write stranger things, i was just... too haunted with this image...

Anyways, I love Joseph Quinn, so I pictured HIS Johnny Storm for this (yes, he triggered the thots.)

thank u to @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby for proofreading this and helping with my editing cause i never wrote marvel and i needed their opinion, i love both thank u

Enjoy and don't forget to reblog!

BRAND ME

When Johnny Storm saw you for the first time, he thought Cupid fired an arrow his way.

Now, it wasn’t the best of situations of course, he had to save you from a slight altercation regarding some of Doctor Doom’s subjects wreaking havoc in the city and all that, and he saved you by beating up the guy that held you hostage in spirits of saving his ass. 

You had thanked him, smiled at him and he may or may have not thought of having you as one of his conquests. He was known for it, you absolutely knew about it, but he couldn’t really help himself when he started talking to you. He first asked to meet up with you privately and you immediately rejected his advances, surprising him, sure, but not stopping him, so you offered to meet up with him for a coffee after work. 

Coffee was not something he did often. It was usually drinks, and to be fair, no women really ever said no to him. Sure he messed up a few times, but who hasn’t? Still, sharing a coffee with you didn’t sound like a bad idea. It was different, but different didn’t always mean bad. 

So you gave him the address to your building, and at 1 PM sharp on Tuesday, he met up with you right outside of it. You were wearing the typical office attire, skirt to the knees, a nice blouse, a comfortable jacket and he still thought you looked absolutely beautiful. Sitting down at the coffee shop, you two talked, and talked, and he found out so much about you.

You were an only child, and you have been working since you could remember. You lived alone, you liked to cook, and you absolutely disliked pickles. Every small thing he found out about you, he reciprocated with a fact about himself, without giving much away of course.

One coffee date turned into two. Then four. Then, counting didn’t matter anymore.

For a month he has been seeing you, and never once has he made a move on you. It’s not that he didn’t want to… He absolutely wanted to. But you were different. You were completely different from all the flings he had, and he even tried to have one after meeting you and it felt pointless. He didn’t know himself any longer, even Reed got a little worried from all the sneaking around he did, but Johnny couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help it when it came to you.

You were magnificent, a breath of fresh air to be around with. You always greeted him with a smile to your face and he’s never felt more alive when you did. He, of course, had to be careful with you. Not because of trust, but of what might happen to you if you were seen being involved with one of the Fantastic Four. He always picked out private places for the two of you to meet, away from public eyes. 

Coffee shops turned into take-out coffees and parks. Talks that happened at your home’s balcony. Him looking for a comforting shoulder after a long day of being a hero. He was always careful in keeping you away from public. In keeping you a secret. In keeping you safe.

But not careful enough.

When you didn’t answer your phone that day, his heart stopped. You always answered. He tried and tried but you just wouldn’t pick up and he became restless. He flew out of the headquarters, not caring for the waves people gave him, with your apartment as his only destination. He felt himself growing cold despite being up in flames, flying, the horrible feeling that something happened to you making him want to puke.

And when he arrived at your home, he froze. Your balcony’s sliding door was open and what he saw inside made his whole world shatter. Your things were all thrown to the floor. Your furniture was destroyed. Your pictures were all broken and shattered. And then, as he put a foot into your apartment, he saw you. 

You were breathing heavily as you lay on the floor, facing down, and your hair was all over your face. He rushed towards you, jumping over everything that was on the floor, and immediately dropped to his knees in order to scoop you up in his arms and turn you. He pushed the hair off your face as his heart beat loudly in his chest, only for it to come to a stop as he saw the open wound on your eyebrow and the bruise that was starting to form all around it. 

“Crap– fuck!” He felt his world plummeting to the ground as he tried shaking you awake, calling out your name, and he sighed with relief as your eyes slowly opened, only for your face to contort into a wince.

“What…?” He shook his head at you and held onto your form, one arm underneath the back of your knees while the other was wrapped behind your back. He got up on his two feet with ease as he rushed towards the balcony. You made a sound of discomfort as you were moved around, and all he wanted was to keep you safe right now. He needed to take you with him. He cannot leave you alone, not when all of this is probably his fault.

“It’ll be quick, I promise…” He took a deep breath as he controlled his flames temperature, ensuring it would not go towards his arms. Your eyes looked up to meet his, his eyes that were now fiery orbs, looking down at you with sadness displayed on his eyebrows. You whined through the pain again and he immediately leaped out of your balcony.

You could feel the heat off his body, but he made sure to make it as less uncomfortable as he could, but he still knew he had to be quick. He was angry, desperate, and that wasn’t making the flames be any less intense. He knew he was gonna break a rule, but he couldn’t give two shits for the consequences he might face with his family. His sister was going to kill him, but she will understand. They all will have to understand.

He sneaked you in, heading straight to his room, laying you down on his bed. The rage he felt with himself was scorching him from the inside out, so he took the top of his suit as fast as he could and rushed towards the bathroom to get one of his medical kits. 

He aided you, cleaned your wound, put the butterfly strip over it, and even gave you medicine for any impending headaches. He checked for other wounds besides the one on your eye, but there was nothing else, at least from the places where your clothes did not cover you. 

An hour passed and you were slowly coming back to your senses. You opened your eyes to see him walking back and forth, pacing, worry displayed on his features as he seemed deep in thought. You slowly sat up on the bed, looking around, wincing slightly thanks to the throbbing in your head.

“Johnny?” Your voice was small but it was enough for his head to snap towards you and rush to the bed, sitting on the edge right next to you. His hand came up to caress the side of face, making sure to not touch the bruise on your eye.

“Hey…” His eyes were filled with fear, anger, sadness, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat as your eyes roamed all over the room.

“Where… am I?” Your eyes found his again and he gulped, thumb caressing your cheek softly.

“My room… I– I couldn’t leave you alone…” Your eyes widened for just a second to then look down at your hands. Your breathing turned heavy as your eyes filled with tears, shaking your head at him.

“I– I thought it was you… I opened the sliding door and– They wanted information–” Your voice was cut off with a sob and Johnny saw how you winced in pain, your hand flying to press onto your temple and he quickly shushed you, scooching closer to you, lifting his hand to grab yours gently and move it away from your face.

“Don’t touch it– I… I seriously thought I was careful in keeping you safe and hidden… I screwed up.” Your eyes met his, seeing the guilt that was flooding inside, knowing he was torturing himself because of it. His lips were downturned, disappointment written all over. You shook your head at him, your hand grasping his.

“I don’t regret a minute of it…” His eyes met yours as you guided your gaze around the room, frowning slightly as your headache seemed to start to drift away. “So this is your room…” “Fantastic Four headquarters… nobody knows I sneaked you in, but I really couldn’t care less. I won’t let you out of my sight, at least until whoever is stalking me is captured.” You turned towards him again, a soft smile on your lips that made his heart combust in its own flames.

“Probably a fan.” Even now you still joked to him, when you were the one hurt. You were too beautiful. Too incredible, even for his own good. He should be careful with his moves, he should let you know how different you are to his other flings… but his body betrayed him as his free hand came towards your cheek, holding it gently, and his lips surged forward, slotting right onto yours.

Your eyes were wide as a surprised gasp fell from your lips, but you reciprocated that kiss, even if a bit hesitant at first. His lips moved with yours as his body started rising in temperature which he was trying to keep at a warm number. He could easily control his temperature but with you, he was finding it hard to do so. 

He was happy because you were not pulling away from the kiss. You were moving into it, following his lead, not even stopping it after your tongues started to dance together. He wanted you. He definitely wanted to show you just how special you are but– You were hurt, and he can’t do that to you now… so he pulled away. Your breaths were heavy as you looked at each other and he rubbed your cheek with his thumb.

“I’ll tell everyone  tomorrow you’re staying here for a while. You need safety, and I can give that to you… Just stay with me…” He held you so gently, afraid of you running away, or disappearing right before him. You licked your lips as you nodded slowly at him, to which he responded with a satisfied smile. He leaned forward, pecking your lips once more before getting up which alarmed you, getting hold of his hand.

“Where are you going?” Your voice was small and he thought he was going to break listening to it. 

“I’m not going anywhere, just going to get you some clothes for you to sleep in, baby.” Your eyes widened at the new petname, but Johnny noticed how you tried to look away from embarrassment, and he found you too cute. He will definitely protect you. He won’t let whoever is looking for him, or his team, hurt you. 

But when he fell asleep and cuddled up to you after having some tea with you before bed, he didn’t expect to be awoken in the middle of the night to a ring of his cell phone. He was startled, sitting up on the bed quickly only to realize you were not by his side. He looked around frantically and grabbed his phone from the night table next to his bed. He answered it, getting up from the bed to walk towards his bathroom in hopes of seeing you in there.

“Hello?” And all he heard was heavy breathing on the other side until a raspy, robotic voice talked.

“How does it feel to wake up alone?” And Johnny’s blood drained, evaporated, and he knows you are not in the building. How did it happen? How? There were cameras, security, detectors, how?

“What the fuck did you do to her?” His voice was coming from in between his teeth, like a growl, a hiss, a threat. The other voice only laughed, igniting Johnny’s anger even more than before.

“Come find out. We’re at her old apartment. We have to talk, Johnny, so come alone.” And like that, the line clicked. He was breathing heavily as he looked down at his phone and his hand shook as he grunted, his eyes igniting in yellow as the hand that was holding his phone set aflame, destroying the device before he threw it across the room, making it hit and for the plastic to splash onto the wall. 

He ran his hands through his hair, wanting to rip it all out, to burn the whole building down. If he didn’t tell anyone, he might die, but if he does, then you… He couldn’t. He has a chance, even if alone. He has to save you, he can’t let them have you, he can’t let you suffer because of him. 

So he stepped out to his balcony, his body engulfed in flames as he leaped into the sky, headed straight to your apartment. He was trying to go as fast as he could, his breathing heavy with anticipation as he swerved through the buildings. He finally got onto your balcony, the sliding doors were open again but when he looked inside, he couldn’t help but feel confused.

He took a few steps in as his flames subdued, and all your furniture was gone. All your pictures, even the cabinets… it was just empty. Empty except for the big windows that were on the side. What happened?

A chuckle coming from one corner startled him. It was the robotic voice that slowly transformed into a female one. A voice he knew too well. A voice that never chuckled in that manner, always be it a giggle, or a little scoff, but never… this. He turned to face it, and his eyes widened as the figure stepped into the small bit of light that came through the windows thanks to the night sky.

“Aren’t you a little naive Johnny?” 

And there, in front of him, was you. Face hard, wearing a simple cocktail black dress, some black heels… nothing like what you normally wear. You didn’t look dizzy because of your bruise, the butterfly strip he applied to you hours ago was still there. It was you… but at the same time, it wasn’t.

“W-What…?” He stuttered, not feeling the tips of his fingers as he looked at how you slowly walked towards him, throwing a device to the ground, a voice-changing device. 

“I really didn’t think you would take me to your headquarters. Not this quickly at least.” You sighed, looking out the window as you kept talking. “I had a whole large plan for it, but you just had to make it THAT easy.”

You finished with a giggle, the giggle that he knew too well. The giggle you directed to him many times when he told you stories about Sue and him. Stories about how he made a fool out of himself on a few dates. The giggle that he liked so much… all for it to be a fucking lie. You–

“You lied to me… You–” He felt his heart twist as your eyes turned to meet his once more. He really isn’t lucky, isn’t he? The first time he feels something genuine and he gets stepped on by the universe. You took a step towards him as you put your hands behind your back.

“Not all the time. I can promise that, but my boss will be glad to hear I got into the headquarters in such a short period of time…” Your eyes studied his face, seeing how his features turned from shock to anger, slowly, making a wicked grin appear on your face. “Aw… are you mad?”

“What the fuck do you think?” His voice turned low, and it almost made you freeze in your place, but you kept talking, your head high.

“You look cute when mad. I wish I could take a picture right now–”

“Stop–”

“I would hang it up, frame it… Name it ‘My best show yet’.” Johnny felt his body start to burn, and he had to try to keep the flames from igniting out of his suit, but each word you spat out, made it more and more difficult for him to hold himself back.

“I said stop–”

“I just didn’t think it would be this quick. Who would've thought that Johnny Storm would be so desperate for actual love? So much, he throws himself head first like an idiot–” 

A hand came to grab the back of your head, fingers gripping onto your scalp, grabbing your hair, and yanking your head backwards with no restraint, no care. And suddenly your eyes were looking at the Human Torch. His eyes were yellow flames, his face, his hair, his body, everything was on fire and it was burning you. He was baring his teeth at you, your face illuminated by his flames, and you noticed the hand holding the back of your head was not lit.

“I could kill you right now. I could easily burn you to a crisp for no one to find your body.” You trembled under his grasp, and your breathing turned a little heavy as you stared into his flaming eyes.

“But you won’t…” Your reply was soft, making the flames go down, making you breathe out in relief, feeling the cool air again on your body and face. He was still glaring, his nose slightly scrunched up in anger, in disgust. “Approaching you romantically was never the intention.” 

That made him tilt his head at you, his eyebrow twitching at the mention of romance. Of how he was so close to having it but–

“Why tell me this? Why not keep the fucking act until you have more?” And you didn’t answer him, still under his grasp as you looked up at him. He couldn’t describe what he saw in your eyes, but he knew that it wasn’t hatred. He knew that there was a feeling that you shouldn’t be experiencing but you couldn’t help it.

So you stayed silent, swallowing as you kept your eyes on him. You saw him tremble slightly and he raised his free hand, making your gaze turn to it as the flames enveloped it all, to the tip of his fingers. It wasn’t a massive flame, more like embers, small, yet damaging. 

You felt anything but scared of him, and he knows it, yet his anger fuels him in ways he cannot describe, and he wants to show you. He wants to show you just how fucking angry, enraged, he is. He wants to hurt you, burn you, engrave himself deep on your skin and in your mind. 

“Say you don’t want this.” He needs to know if he connected the dots right. Why tell him? Why tell him who you truly were? Why not keep faking it to get more out of him? Did you take whatever you needed in the short period he kept you there? Those few little hours…

You remained silent, looking into his eyes as you struggled in his grasp slightly. Your right hand flew to the wrist holding the back of your head, which only made him pull on your hair once more, making you wince. It was another warning, another chance for you to push him away.

But you didn’t.

His right hand lifted up to reveal that it was slowly being covered in small embers, not yet flames, and he pressed it on your back. Your eyes widened when you felt heat engulf your back, the scent of burning fabric filling your nostrils. You winced when the burning turned a bit painful, his eyes not leaving your face. 

He was still scowling at you, his eyes traveling to your exposed neck as his hand kept moving on your back, making small holes in it, the embers spreading slightly. He knew he was burning you, but it doesn’t compare to what you did to him. You will heal from these superficial burns.

You wanted to tell him to hurry up, but you knew that you weren’t the one with control right now, so you had to be careful with your words. You yelped when his hand started moving to your front, leaving embers fluttering over the black satin. It was burning easily, the material too thin, too flimsy. 

His eyes caught onto yours once more. You were breathing heavily, waiting for his next move. He clenched his jaw as the memories of those picnics filled his head. Those movie nights. Those nights when you told him about your family. You showed him those pictures that were on your wall that you probably faked. Those pictures were all fake.

His fist grabbed onto the front of your dress and pulled on it as he grunted from the force. Your dress ripped easily away from your body thanks to the holes that were burned on your back and side. Your body will probably have scarring, burnt marks, or red spots, but you couldn’t help the excitement in your body when he held your torn dress in his hand.

His eyes turned to it for a second and then back at you. You saw how they glowed in a deep yellow and his hand engulfed into flames, your dress catching on fire and burning into ashes in three seconds. His eyes returned to their natural color as his hand dropped, and then he could finally take a look at your half-naked form. 

You took the opportunity of his distraction to push him away, making him rip his hand off your hair, looking at you with surprise and anger. You were breathing heavily in just your bra and thong, a matching black set, looking at him, the anger in you also coming out to light after how he treated you. 

Anger, but no hatred. Not from your side… nor his.

So you took a sharp intake of breath as you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you slammed your lips against his, connecting your chest to his. He groaned at the kiss, his arms immediately wrapping around your frame, his lips moving against yours instantly, like a starved man. Weeks of wanting this with you, dreaming of having you, but he never thought it would be like this.

You bit his bottom lip, yanking a bit on it with your teeth, provoking a protest on his part but you silenced it by sliding your tongue into his mouth. You moaned in satisfaction as his right hand slid downwards, grabbing onto your ass cheek and squeezing tight. You responded by raising your leg up, thigh against his hip, while his hand moved, leaving your behind to graze your thigh, gripping it tightly to hold you in place.

His hips pressed against your core, earning him a moan from you. You felt his buckle against your clothed cunt as well as his hardness as he rutted himself on you, moaning into your mouth. One of your hands went towards his hair, running your fingers through it and then you gripped tightly, pulling his head backwards and away from the kiss. He hissed at the action, his eyes connecting with your defiant ones.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” Your voice came out through your teeth, a taunt. He gave a tilt of his head as if asking if you were really defying him right now. You could almost see the smoke coming out of his nostrils as he huffed in anger, his hands flying to the back of your thighs, pushing you upwards with his strength, making you yelp slightly at the sudden movement.

Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist so you wouldn’t fall, but then your back was slammed against the window, with such force that you were amused by how strong the glass was. You whimpered at the coldness against your naked back and ass, eyes glaring back at him.

“You think you have the right to talk back to me right now?” One of his hands left your thigh so it could get between the two of you. His lips reconnected to yours before you could even reply back to him, and you heard how he started undoing his buckle, that ‘F4’ shaped stupid belt he had.

You felt him move underneath you and you heard the rustling of clothes and then something pressing against your wet thong, making you whimper into the kiss. You pulled away to look down in between the two of you, and he had pulled his pants and underwear mid-thighs, enough to let his cock free, which was now pressing against you.

He got hold of the elastic of your thong, pinching it between his thumb and index finger, pulling it away from your body. You then saw a tiny and quick flame set fire and it quickly snapped the elastic apart, making your thong drop from your cunt, left to dangle thanks to the scraps still holding onto your other thigh. 

You were exposed to him now, and then he pressed himself against your aching clit, rutting his hips against yours, causing a beautiful friction that left you moaning, throwing your head back, thumping against the glass.

He groaned as he looked at your exposed neck, moving forward so he could bite on the side of it, making you wince as your clit kept being hit with the ridge of his dick. It was hot. Literally hot. Not even warm temperature, it was burning and you wondered how that would feel inside of you. 

He was coating his cock with your wetness, and he couldn’t be bothered with foreplay, he didn’t care for it, and you didn’t either, not that you needed it. You’ve been wet the moment he gripped your hair. So he pulled his hips back, letting the tip of his cock kiss your clit for a brief second before it caught on your entrance.

A voiceless moan got caught on your throat, where his teeth still remained, as he slowly pushed inside and– it was a perfect burn and stretch. He was perfect as he seethed himself inside, your walls fluttering in need around him as his mouth unlatched from your throat in order to look at how your face contorted at each inch of him.

“Good. That shut you up.” He held back the groans as he watched how your eyes were wide, looking in between the two of you now, seeing how his cock was disappearing inside of you. He wanted to hate you. He wished he could. It wasn’t fair that even now all he could think about was you, even if it wasn’t like before.

He cracked his neck as he felt his control slipping away, afraid of letting his flames burst out without his intention. He slammed his hand on the glass, right next to your head, as his left one gripped your thigh tightly and he struck his hips forward, bottoming out inside of you in one forceful thrust. 

You gasped as your eyes met his. He was deliciously deep. There was a little bit of discomfort due to not having any prep but it was worth it. He was breathing heavily as he looked at you and your eyes danced with his in uncertainty, in rage, in sadness, in confusion. He was letting you adjust, or maybe he was just catching his breath, either way, you didn’t think you deserved it.

“You’re gonna cum already Johnny boy?” He gave you a glare, which only made you smirk at him. You didn’t deserve the kindness, at least not from him. He started pulling out of you, only to roughly slam back in, causing you to choke on your own moan. You felt it in your throat almost. And then, he set the bruising pace. No mercy, slamming into you like a wild man.

The glass behind you shook, the metal hinges making loud sounds as he kept smashing his hips against yours over and over again, not leaving a single second for conscious thought, not leaving a single second for even a memory to slip through the both of you. All he wanted was to pour his anger out, all he needed was to show you how you made him feel then and how you made him feel now.

The sound of skin slapping echoed through the now empty apartment, an apartment where he spent a few nights with your company. He growled at the memory, his hips picking up a pace as your moans raised in pitch, your fingers digging into his shoulders, scratching on him while your eyes filled with tears. Was it pleasure? He didn’t know.

“Not acting so smartass now, huh?” You choked out a moan as you tried to speak but he was piercing you right where you needed. Your g-spot was being abused at each sharp thrust of his. Punch. Punch. Punch.

You felt your body heating up, more than any other time you slept with someone, feeling as if you were sweating more than you should and you knew it was him. You knew he was raising the temperature of his body, including the one in the entire room. Your forehead was sweaty, your neck, your chest that was still covered in your bra that you now need to rip off because it was just too fucking hot.

You lowered a hand and pressed it against the glass, right next to you, and you grunted as you pushed against it, forcing him to stumble backwards. He fell to the ground, holding onto you, his back hitting the floor, his dick never slipping out of you as you landed on him, which caused you to choke. 

You were breathing heavily as you looked down at him, who only winced slightly at the sudden hit on his ass and back. Your hands were now on his chest, still covered with his suit. You stared at the number 4 logo, glaring at it, and then your eyes found his. He was looking at you now with furrowed brows, sad instead of angry ones. 

You didn’t deserve those.

Your hands went towards your back, unclasping your bra off and ripping it off your body. A sigh of relief escapes you as the air hits the sweat that’s on your tits. Your hips started circling against him, slowly, and he threw his head back as his hands gripped your hips, his digits digging into your skin. 

Your belly coiled as you started rising yourself up and then slam back down again, knees pressing against the hard floor, knowing you will be bruised tomorrow, but you could give two shits about that right now. His hands traveled upwards, grabbing onto your breasts and everywhere he touched just left a lingering feeling of warmth, of burning. 

You threw your head back as his fingers pinched your nipples, making your belly coil as you slammed yourself down again and circled your hips against him, making the tip of his cock rub against your g-spot repeatedly. He moaned your name in pleasure, the first time he did during the night and you looked down at him.

“You sure that’s my name?” And his eyes clashed with yours in new found anger, sitting up as his left hand gripped your waist, while the rest remained on your hip. His face came close to yours as his words became venomous.

“I wonder how many names you had to come up with. With how many you had to whore yourself to in order to get information for your boss. Whoever that might be.” And him calling you a slut was not something you expected. You didn’t want him to think that. You became angry. Not at him, but yet, you had to direct it towards someone.

So you slapped him. 

His head was turned with wide eyes and you had to pretend you weren’t shocked at your own actions. You looked at your hand and then back at him, opening your mouth to say something but as he slowly turned to face you again, you knew you had fucked up. You saved yourself by talking once more.

“I didn’t jump your bones. You jumped mine, back in your room. Who’s the actual whore here, Johnny?” And you let him have the small memory of that innocent kiss he gave you. Of that kiss that made him so happy you had reciprocated, only for that memory to be shattered, tainted. His glare turned murderous as he looked at you. 

You started feeling the areas he was grabbing you at become hotter and hotter. Your breathing became heavy in nervousness as your head turned to look at his hands which were becoming redder by the second. He laid back down and pushed his hips up, making you raise yourself a bit on your knees and before you could say something, he started slamming himself inside of you once more.

Your mind became mush in an instant, your moans choking up your voice as he hit your insides over and over again, the slapping of skin loud and quick. Your belly started turning, the elastic band about to snap as your hands dug into his chest. And then, you screamed as pain took you out of your pleasure palace.

The smell of burning filled the room, very slightly, faint, but still there. You looked down at where he was holding you, and his hands were now almost as red bright as metal against fire. He didn’t stop his pounding either, growling as he looked at you with his yellow irises, filled with flames.

“This is your reminder of who you betrayed. For you to remember me.” 

Tears fell down your cheeks as you felt the pain of your skin being burnt, of being branded by him, and then your climax hit you out of nowhere. You choked out a whimper, a cry of his name as your walls tightened around him, pulsating. His balls tightened with the need for his own release, and he cooled his hands once more but kept them in place on your body.

He groaned loudly at your tightness and he looked at how tears fell down your face as well as the drool that had pooled in the corner of your mouth. He cursed under his breath and slammed his hips upwards one more time, completely seething himself inside as his cum filled your insides and you felt the heat of it. You could feel it. 

He was breathing heavily as he lowered his hips, his hands keeping you in place so you wouldn’t lower on him. He hissed as he pulled out of you, his cum already dripping down from your hole, falling on the red tip of his cock. Your eyes looked down at his hands as they slowly parted from your skin, a squelching sound following after.

You were bleeding in some places, layers of your skin successfully burnt with his handprints. They were hurting you, they were very painful, and you… you couldn’t be mad at him for them. Your eyes connected to his as he lay there looking at his own hands, trembling at the sight.

Pieces of your burnt skin were stuck to his hands, on his palms. He lost control. He didn’t want to hurt you like this. You saw the guilt that displayed on his face and you raised your hand, wanting to touch him and tell him–

“Shit…” You winced before you could say anything else. He snapped out of his thoughts and sat up, pushing you to sit on the floor next to him. Without another word, he got up and you looked as he pulled his pants back up and buckled his belt once more. 

“I guess we’ll see each other again now that you’ve entered the headquarters.” He was asleep while you were there. He was sure you took something, and it was just a matter of time for you to strike the building or him. He walked towards the sliding doors, and you moved on your place, wanting to go after him, but the sharp pain of the burns made you stay put.

“Johnny… wait.” Your voice was choked, but he turned around to face you again. You felt the room becoming cooler, and you didn’t want it to be that temperature… but it had to do for now. “My name… I didn’t lie about my name.” 

His eyebrow twitched in confusion at that. Should he believe you? Should he trust you on that one? He didn’t know, he didn’t want to find out, he didn’t want to see you again, but he knew that one was inevitable. He turned away from you and you saw how his whole body turned into flames and flew out of the balcony, leaving you bruised, branded and alone.

In an empty, cold, room.

“It’s been a while since your last report, Chameleon.” 

The stupid nickname your boss gave you. You had the ability to infiltrate through people without being spotted. It wasn’t a superpower, just good hiding. 

“Got a little bit busy Boss.” Your voice was flat as you looked at how the man turned to look at you. So many people are afraid of this man, but there was something about Doctor Doom that just made you want to laugh.

“I hope that ‘bit busy’ was to get the information we need.” His voice was threatening, menacing as he looked at you through the screen. You gave him a sharp nod.

“Yes, I was planning my next encounter with Storm.” At your report, he gave a small nod of approval. You felt your bandages becoming sticky underneath your oversized sweater. It was about time to change them again, so you had to make this a quick call.

“I see. So, you still didn’t get into the headquarters then?” And you wanted to smile at his question. You wanted to show him how fucked he was, but you held yourself back because you had another plan in action, one that doesn’t include a boss.

“No sir. I require more time to create a bond with him.” He gave a small nod as his sharp tone filled the speakers.

“Get it done.” And the call ended abruptly.

You stared at the black screen, a smile appearing on your face as you slowly got up from the couch, walking towards the windows that were all blacked out. You pressed a button that was on the side and the windows returned to be transparent, showing the city lights in the night.

But what caught your attention was the orange gleam that was far away, still, floating, as if looking your way. You knew it was him. He has been waiting for you to turn the windows transparent once again. You had blacked out the apartment from his view for a whole week. You had refurbished it again, even hung up a real picture this time, the only one in the room.

One of you and him. One that you took at a picnic you had planned for the both of you. One that wasn’t part of the plan. Like the theater. Like the nights spent in this fake apartment. Like the drinks spent on a terrace. But he didn’t know that. 

And then you saw him fly away, making your heart plummet to the floor. You winced as you turned to walk towards your kitchen, ready to take care of your wounds. Of his markings. Of his handprints that will permanently stay on your skin. 

It was funny. First, you betrayed Johnny, and now you are betraying your boss, someone who might rip you apart the moment he finds out you’ve been lying. Yet, you are more scared of losing the only fire that made you feel alive after a long while. 

You’ll keep that flame alive. You have to. 

You’ll make sure it does.

end

a/n: um, yeah, the thot was the burning of clothes, like, how was i supposed to do that one with just like, a normal person with no superpowers... with a lighter? not sexy enough.

also, handprints.

ta-ta

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + eight

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.

[on-the-clear-blue]

The idea warms are hitting extremely hard today, so outside of my usual DPxDC I give you, Spider-Man in Gotham...Not MCU Peter edition!

Give me a Peter Parker that is 18 going on onto 19, he has been Spider-Man for like, 5 almost 6 years, getting his bite very early, and dealing with all the things that happen to him younger.

And give me a Year One Batman. Who is still trying to figure out what the hell he is doing, and toting along a 9 year old Robin

Peter, falling out of a portal, and doing his standard check of surroundings, spotting Batman staring at him in clunky armor and a brightly colored child: Waves slowly

Bruce, who heard some freaky shit was happening with a cult near by and went to investigate: blinking at the blue and red being that got summoned

Dickie, who is trying (and failing) to do the Bat glare: still waves back.

And like, just the idea of this 19 year old Spider-Man taking a much older vigilante under his wing, teaching him the ins and outs of it all.

Like..

Bruce, Storming through a bag guys base gets suddenly pulled back by a web to his cape.

Peter, giving him a "bitch you dumb" look under his mask: Traps! LOOK FOR TRAPS?? AND LOOK UP? PEOPLE HID THINGS UP?

Bonus, Spider-Man bending himself into a human pretzels and Dick "I have no bones" Grayson is gleefully testing to see if he could do it too.

Jump cut, years later, Peter beats emotional intelligence into Bruce with Dick.

All the Bat kids grow up with Uncle Peter, (either Peter can't get back or has been told specifically that he can't by a higher being or something) and like...

Peter is the only one that catches Tiny Tim following them during patrol, he shows him all the places to get the best angles, even poses a few times for him.

Either is there when Jason dies and saves him, or is there mourning with Bruce

(Gotham lives in fear of the memory, Batman at his most brutal and Black Suit Spider-Man)

Teaches Jason how to control his pit rage after he comes back, what is Spider-Man if not control?

Stephanie is his bestie in puns and white girl music tastes.

Tim finds a partner in constantly staying up far to late as well as someone who likes to invent,( because I hc that Peter has pretty much worked with every scientist in New York, cus like since this is a blend of canons, he has worked with the Lizard, Doc Oct, Reed Richards, the only one he said no to an internship was Stark)

Duke gets a meta mentor that can help him with his powers, Spidey has been on more than one team with someone that had some form of light powers.

Plus I think Spider-man is Gothams daytime hero before Signal joins him, they are the daytime duo

Cass is his favorite (don't tell anyone because they already know) she can see him and he can see her in a spider sense, they do the point meme whenever they sense each other.

Little stabby Damian finds out that this person with his father has been trained by many an assassin (Wade, Daredevil, Natasha, Shield in general)

And Wade...Deadpool pops up occasionally, even he doesn't understand why or how lBruce gets a strange feeling he should punch the Flash in the face the next time he sees him)

Bruce having to deal with Deadpool is terrible for him and I sadly love it.

(Also on the point of Black suit spidey in Gotham...ESPECIALLY after Jason is murdered? Oh Peter is killing the Joker, or his arm privileges forfeit. I feel like Peter would try not to kill him but wouldn't try too hard.)

Spider-man being a founding members of the Justice League, them having to deal with Peter crawling on the ceiling, and scuttering through air vents!

Peter making Parker Industries, pointing inventions from other heros/villains from his world, he isn't above pettiness, and that's how the DC world gets some of Reed Richard's old designs he gave to Peter "Because they are practically useless" they arnt they save millions of lives. Not to mention Arc Reactors, Peter grinned the whole time claiming it was his idea.

Hope you enjoy my ADHD rambling brought to you be sleep deprivation

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 6 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica can't catch a break at work, and things are just made worse when she's required to plan an event for alumni weekend. Looking forward to seeing Jake on Saturday was only trumped by a surprise visit from him.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, eventually 18+

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

The next morning, Jake was ready to go and standing outside with his travel cup of coffee at 7:25 just to be sure he didn't piss off his ride. At this rate, he was going to owe Bradshaw and his wife something really nice for all of their help with his truck. And with Jessica.

When they both pulled up in the Bronco at exactly 7:30, Jake climbed in the backseat with a smirk. "Sorry I interrupted your evening last night."

She smiled at him and shrugged saying, "It's fine. I hope your truck is repairable." But Bradley just glared at Jake in the rearview mirror as he pulled away from the curb.

"Gonna buy a new one, I think," he replied. "Just to be on the safe side."

As the Bronco coasted to a stop at a red light, she turned to face him. "How was your date with Jessica?"

Jake groaned and said, "That's why I'm getting a new truck. I had to run five miles, and I was late meeting her. Almost fucked it all up. I love that shitty, old truck, but I'll need something more reliable if she actually agrees to date me."

Bradley snorted. "Yes. Get something more reliable so you don't inconvenience Jessica." He gestured to his wife in the passenger seat as the light turned green. "She was asleep when I got home last night. Just in case you were curious."

"I wasn't. But thanks," Jake replied coolly, watching as she laughed and leaned in to kiss her husband's cheek. "And thanks for the ride. I owe you. Again." Jake tried to think about what he could even get for Bradley. What did he even like? Wasn't that Grateful Dead cover band coming to town?

"Wait. You ran five miles after your truck broke down?" Bradshaws's wife asked him. "That's actually kind of romantic. I would have been a mess after that."

"It's not as romantic as all the doors," Bradley grumbled. But now they were driving through the college campus, and Jake's eyes caught on the building where Jessica worked as they pulled up in front of it. Jake also had a front row seat to watch the way Bradley leaned across the seat and kissed his wife as if he wasn't going to see her for a week. 

"Bye, Sugar. I love you so much," he whispered, handing her a lunchbox with a tie dye pattern. She bid him farewell with a similar sentiment and then waved to Jake. And then Bradley sat there and watched to make sure his wife got safely into the building before putting it back in gear. 

"Do you drive your wife to work all the time?" Jake asked awkwardly now from the backseat. 

"Of course. As much as I can."

Jake was quiet for a beat, and then he asked, "I know you and she met a long time ago. Were you ever in love with anyone else?"

"No," came his immediate reply. "Always been a little bit obsessed with that one in particular."

Jake could tell. And that level of devotion was starting to sound more and more appealing to him.

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

Jessica was so tired of the way she always ended up in tears at the end of every department meeting. This time she was sitting next to Leland, and it just wasn't fair that she was always being singled out. They were going to force her to volunteer to be a faculty advisor for an on-campus event for alumni weekend. She could already tell. It was going to be a tedious waste of her time, and Brian Conley would make some vague promises about getting her on a tenure track. But she just knew he'd never let that happen.

"Let's chat when we're done here, Dr. Reed," Conley announced in front of everyone like Jessica was a small child who needed to be reprimanded. And when everyone else was dismissed, she didn't move from her seat towards the back of the room. If he wanted to talk to her, he could do it from there. Because now she was just getting mad. 

Almost all of the warm fuzzy feelings leftover from her Chippy's date with Jake were gone and replaced by self loathing. She had fucked up her career. She had fucked up her relationship with probably everyone in the science department. And she would most likely fuck things up with Jake, too. 

"Jessica," Conley said softly, shaking his head. 

"Please, call me Dr. Reed or Professor Reed," she managed to say without letting on that she was about to cry. 

He sighed like she was the biggest inconvenience in his life and raked his fingers through his sexy salt and pepper hair. "Dr. Reed," he said with a sarcastic looking smile. "If you want to even stand a chance at tenure, then you need to comply with my ideas."

"It's so convenient that you are the one in charge of tenure for the department, isn't it? You know how hard I work. You know how much I care about my students. This shouldn't even be an issue."

Then he strode across the room and walked down the row of seats she was sitting in and loomed over her as he said, "You are the one who made it an issue. Not me."

Jessica was torn between the urge to tell him to fuck off and the desire to burst into tears. But she sat there quietly with her eyes trained on his as he added, "Now pick one of the events to manage for alumni weekend, or I can guarantee you'll be an adjunct professor as long as you remain at this school."

It didn't matter which one she chose, he would make it miserable for her. So she grabbed her bag and stood as tall as she could in her high heels. "Just shoot me an email and let me know the details. It doesn't matter which event I have to manage; I'll do a fucking amazing job with it while you try to bring me down."

She didn't wait for a response. She was out of the room and down the hallway to the elevators before he could say anything. The whole day was going to suck now. She could just tell. If only it were Saturday, she could be at Jake's place where at least her past wasn't hanging over her head constantly. 

After three lectures in a row, she checked her emails upon returning to her office. The first one made her smile, because Advanced Calculus invited Jessica to stop by her office for lunch. The second was from Conley, letting her know that she was in charge of helping to plan and execute a beer pong tournament at one of the fraternity houses. 

"Fuck my life," she moaned, reaching into her desk to get her peanut butter and jelly sandwich and room temperature bottle of water. Now she really didn't feel like having lunch with another actual person, but she didn't want to lose her only friend here. So she slowly made her way down to the other end of the building and the math department. 

When she knocked on the door, she was greeted with a cheery, "Come in!" And Jessica once again marvelled at the spacious office with windows and the beautiful lunch spread out on the desk in front of the other woman. Today it was a delicious looking veggie wrap, an array of mixed nuts, and assorted artisan cheeses.

"Your husband always makes my lunch look even sadder," Jessica said, tossing her sandwich in its ziplock bag onto the desk and sinking into the open chair. 

She responded with a laugh, saying, "Help yourself. He always packs too much in case I need an afternoon snack. How's your day going?"

"Horrible," Jessica whispered, reaching for some of the nuts. "I'm getting roped into helping with an event for alumni weekend. All because I don't have tenure. And even though I've been assured this type of thing will help me get there, I already know it won't."

"The fucking patriarchy," the other woman replied before biting into her wrap. 

"Right?" whined Jessica. "Like I can't win. I'm never going to get ahead here. I wonder if Penn State still wants me. Maybe I should call them." She honestly didn't have much keeping her in California, but Jake immediately came to mind. Which was ridiculous, because they had kissed all of a handful of times last night. But he did run five miles. And he did want Chippy to like him.

"You can't leave me here alone!" Advanced Calculus complained, and Jessica smiled. "Which event do they have you working on?"

As Jessica nibbled on her sandwich, she said, "A beer pong tournament. At a fraternity house." She deadpanned, but the other woman started howling with laughter. 

"I might actually be able to get my husband to come to alumni weekend even though neither of us went to school here!"

"Was he in a Kappa Pi chapter? I could probably make him some sort of guest of honor if he wants."

"No. Beta Gamma. We have the fraternity paddles at home to prove it. But he and I used to play beer pong in college, and I just know he would be more than happy to spend the fifty or hundred bucks per ticket to try to relive his glory days."

Jessica smiled tentatively. "Do you want to help me plan the event? I'm sure I could waive the fees for both of you."

She was expecting a loud resounding no. So when Jessica saw her nod and say, "Sure," she thought she might fall out of her seat. "Let me text my Beer Boy right now so he knows not to make any plans for that day. Not that he ever plans anything except a night out at the bar where I have to babysit him and Jake and the others, but you know..."

And then Jessica sat up a little straighter. Maybe Jake could come to the event, too. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad at all if they were all there. Maybe then Brian Conley would get off her back about everything, or at the very least, she wouldn't be alone when he tried to pick apart every little detail. 

"Thank you," Jessica blurted out. "Like honestly. Thank you for agreeing to help me. And just for inviting me to eat lunch with you."

The other woman looked up from her phone with a surprised expression on her face. "You don't have to thank me. Now.... why don't you tell me a little bit about your date with Jake. I heard that man ran like a hundred miles to see you."

Jessica felt warmth in her cheeks as she divulged a few details about the evening, but then she realized it was nearly time for her to teach her lab class. "I'm sorry, but I need to run. Maybe we can do this again next week?"

"Sure. And I'll start brainstorming some ideas for alumni weekend. I'll recruit Bradley to help. Or maybe not... everything would be tie dye."

Jessica was still smiling as she walked to the lab.

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

Jessica was no longer smiling when she was three quarters of the way through her office hours and nobody had stopped by. Her stomach was growling so loudly, she was sure you could hear it down by the elevators. And she was shopping on the Victoria's Secret website for something to do. Really, she just wanted to stop at In-N-Out and head home, but then there was a knock on her open door. 

"Reedy," Jake drawled, and she dropped her phone onto her desk with a soft thud. "You got some time for me?"

He looked so damn good in some well worn jeans and a Texas Longhorns shirt. But to make him even more appealing, he was holding some flowers and a container that looked like it was filled with food. 

"Jake," she whispered, standing up behind her desk. She felt goosebumps on her arms and legs as a crooked little grin appeared on his face. He headed straight for her and set the container down, and when he held out the flowers, she took them. "Thanks."

Then she noticed his eyes catch on her phone which was next to the container, and Jake's cheeks flushed pink. He swallowed hard and asked, "You doing some shopping?"

Jessica turned the phone over just as the screen faded to black, but it was too late. Her Victoria's Secret shopping cart full of thigh high stockings, a new garter belt, and a pretty green set had been plainly visible to him. 

"Maybe," she whispered, realizing that the green bra and thong set matched his eyes perfectly. And now she was thinking about how he might react to her wearing them. Jessica whimpered softly. And then his lips came crashing down against hers. She dropped the flowers onto her desk so she could have full access to his body as she stumbled back a step and hit her chair. But Jake had one arm wrapped securely around her waist, keeping her on her feet. 

She let her fingers sink into his silky hair as his tongue met hers, and she whimpered again for him. His kisses were so intentional, so sure. Like he really wanted to be here in this moment. With her. Yet he kept his hands very respectfully on her back. And she realized it had been a year since she'd let anyone touch or kiss her like this. It had been a year since she even tried, and she never expected it to feel this good.

"Wait," she gasped, wrenching her lips away from his and pulling herself from his warm grasp. Jake held his hands up like she'd burned him, and his cheeks grew pinker as she walked around her desk, high heels clicking along the floor.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, his tone bordering on questioning as his eyes followed her across the tiny room. She closed her office door with a soft thud, and then turned to look at him.

"Too many prying eyes around here," she said with a laugh as her fingers skimmed along the doorknob, already missing the feel of Jake. 

"Understood." He looked mildly relieved if no less pink as she made her way back to him. And then she was right in front of him again, and his lips were parted and his fingers were flexing, but he didn't make a move to touch her again as she adjusted her glasses.

She had somehow managed to pour cold water all over the moment by wanting to close the door, but just the idea of Conley walking by and catching them was too much for her to think about. Then Jessica's eyes trailed down to the lettering on Jake's shirt, and her fingers traced the T in Texas before she really knew what she was doing. She made it to the X, before she met his eyes again. 

"Jessica." His voice was deep and a little raspy as he reached for her wrist and flattened her palm against his chest. He covered her hand with his larger one and said, "You're in charge. You set the pace."

How could those words possibly turn her on the way they did? How was this happening? She just nodded and eased both of her hands up along his chest and around his neck while he stroked her arm with one big hand. And then she pushed herself up onto her tiptoes and kissed him softly, guiding his other hand around her waist. 

"I want you to touch me," she whispered against his lips, and that hand rubbed along her hip and then up her side in the most enticing way. 

As Jessica kissed down Jake's neck to the collar of his shirt, he said, "I can't stop thinking about you. Didn't want to wait until Saturday to see you."

She giggled against his stubbled jaw and said, "You come to my office hours so frequently, you're probably my best student."

Jake grunted and said, "Now you're just teasing me."

Jessica pulled away and looked up at his handsome face. "If I wanted to tease you, I would ask what you thought about the thong I was about to order on my phone."

His head tipped back, and she watched his Adam's apple as he swallowed. "You're right. That's a much better way to tease me. And I would say that green is my favorite color." 

When he met her eyes again, he very slowly brought his hand down along her butt. And then they were making out, hands everywhere. Jessica's glasses were crooked on her nose as he pushed his fingers up into her hair, tipping her head back for better access to her kisses. Her tongue was tangled with his again, and her fingers were tucking underneath his shirt when he moaned into her mouth. 

Jake cupped her cheek with his palm and let the kisses taper off, but he still held her reassuringly in place against him with his other hand on her butt. "So are you going to buy it?" he asked breathlessly. 

"Hmm?" she hummed, brushing her lips on his chin.

"The lingerie. Are you going to buy it?"

She gasped. "I don't really need it. I have so much already."

Jake just groaned and shook his head with a look of agony on his face. "You need it. The green ones. You should buy them."

She was in charge. He made it a point of telling her that she was, and now she felt powerful. "Alright. I will."

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

Jake was a little nervous that Jessica would be able to feel how hard he was in his jeans when she told him she was going to buy that bra and lace thong that he was dying to see on her. His current state of need was only exacerbated by the way she vaguely told him she already had a whole collection of lingerie at her disposal. 

Maybe it was the high heels or the fact that he could see her light pink bra strap peeking out of the top of her blouse right now. Or maybe it was her glasses and her kiss swollen lips. It didn't matter. Everything she did turned him on. And she wasn't even really doing anything intentionally. Well, except maybe for the slight dirty talk. 

He wanted to make a comment about how pretty that shade of green would look on her or about how he'd love to take it back off of her, but he didn't. Instead he kissed her softly and said, "I stopped by to bring you dinner, so getting to see what you were shopping for was just a bonus, Baby."

She laughed and ducked her head before asking, "What's for dinner, anyway?"

"Chicken parmesan casserole and garlic toast. Oh, and a brownie for dessert."

Suddenly she was reaching for the container and peeking inside the lid. "This looks homemade. You made this?"

"Mmhmm." He rubbed circles into her hips through her skirt with his thumbs. "Trying to get you excited for Saturday."

She laughed and looked up at him. "I was already excited for Saturday."

He kissed her cheek and whispered, "Game starts at one o'clock. And I'm completely out of journals again."

And then Jake found himself standing behind Jessica at her bookshelf while she looked for the titles she wanted. He had one hand on her hip, and the other was held out so she could stack the journals she wanted for the weekend on his palm. "Oh, you'll like this one," she mused, adding one more to the pile. "I've read it a million times."

"Maybe I can read it to you," he murmured, and then her lips were on his again. 

In an ideal world, this would be something already established. He could just take Jessica home with him for the night. Probably have sex and then cuddle. And then they could both leave for work from his place in the morning after a nice shower together. And that sounded so good to him, he was actually willing to put in the work to try to get there. 

But tonight, he helped her carry her bag and her dinner and her flowers to her car. "You take the journals home with you," she whispered, kissing him just below his ear before she climbed into the driver's seat. 

"Enjoy your dinner," he drawled.

"I will," she said with a smile before Jake closed the door for her. And then he walked the two blocks to where he had parked his brand new truck less than an hour previously. 

The engine started up like a dream, and he drove home to clean up his place for Saturday. Not that it was ever too much of a mess; he lived there alone. Regardless, he wanted everything to look perfect. He wanted his couch to look extra inviting. He wanted to impress her. 

Jake didn't even go to the bar on Friday night. Two weeks in a row now he didn't bring a girl home with him and kick her out early Saturday morning. He could have gone to the Hard Deck, and it would have been fine. He could have played pool and annoyed Bradshaw by buying drinks for his wife. It would have been fun, and he could have come home empty handed, no problem. 

But he went to bed early after he jerked off in the shower to the daydream of Jessica in light green lingerie, and he couldn't remember the last time he slept so well. Then he spent Saturday morning getting food prepared for later. 

Jessica told him she wasn't picky and would eat just about anything, so he was getting the ingredients ready to make chili with the pregame show playing on his massive TV. Then there was a knock on his door. Jessica was standing there holding a six pack of Sam Adams bottles and wearing a fitted Texas A&M shirt and tight black leggings. He couldn't really tell if she was wearing any makeup, and she had traded in her high heels for some beat up sneakers. And Jake felt a little weak. 

"Hi." Her voice was soft as he opened the door wider.

"I told you not to bring anything," he said, eyes fixed on her body as she walked past him into his living room and looked around.

She turned back to smile at him over her shoulder. She looked maybe a little younger and so much more petite like this. Jake had to fight the urge to pick her up and carry her around. "Nice place. You going to give me a tour?"

"I dunno," he mumbled, closing the distance to her. "You're wearing an A&M shirt. The Longhorns' biggest rival."

She pressed her lips together, trying not to smile. "I thought you could make an exception for me?"

He took the six pack from her and brought his other hand up to cup her cheek. He kissed her slow and steady until he felt her fingers meet the waistband of his jeans. "Just for you," he promised. "Nobody else."

When he led her into the kitchen to put the beer away, Jake had to laugh. Her maroon and gray shirt perfectly matched his new truck. "What's funny?" she asked as he closed the fridge. 

"I just realized my new truck is maroon with gray trim. Just like fucking A&M. I've gotta be the worst Longhorns fan around."

"You got a new truck?" she asked, eyes wide. 

"Yeah. Thursday right after work, before I brought you dinner. Can't be late to meet you again."

"Seriously, you bought a new truck?" she asked, lips parted as she gaped up at him. 

"Yeah, it was time. Still hoping the old one can get fixed up. I tend to like to hold onto things once I get attached to them."

"That sounds nice," she said, lacing her fingers with his while he took her on a tour of his condo. He showed her his bedroom and the balcony after she inspected all of the food he had out on the counter for later. And she just kept getting closer to him until they were right next to the couch.

The game was about to start, so Jake just went ahead and told her what he wanted her to know. "I think I'm getting attached to you, Reedy."

She closed her eyes and let her cheek come to rest on his chest. "Are you going to try to hold onto me?"

Jake wrapped his arms around her and said, "Yes."

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

I can't get enough of Jake (who even am I?). And I love Beer Boy being so snarky to Jake and so loving to Sugar. Reedy + Sugar = bffs? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 7

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[lightsnowydreams]

Yandere Ex Boyfriend x Fem Reader

warnings: yandere themes, possessiveness, slight manipulation, implied stalking, hinted murder, non consensual kissing and possible kidnapping(?)

————

a/n: I hope you guys like this one

—————— Minors DNI ——————

Things had started to finally look up. School has been a bit more manageable now, and work hadn’t been stressing you out either. You even got a raise! A small vacation was even planned with some of your friends. Only because you wanted to get out of your room for a bit. Everything in your life had been going so well.

So, why is he here?

Why is he right in front of you?

The last person you wanted to see. Reed Hardwell, your ex boyfriend.

You were in town, minding your own business, walking down a sidewalk making a turn when you bumped into him. Your eyes widen in shock at the sight of him.

He was standing in front of you. A small smile started to appear on his face as his brown eyes started to shine. His eyes looking into yours as you stood there frozen. You didn’t know what to do. His soft chocolate hair grew a little longer since the last time you saw him. It reached the back of his neck now, framing his face perfectly. His eyes still looking as gentle as ever.

“It’s you, my-“ “Don’t finish that sentence please Reed.” Pleading to him to not continue. You didn’t want your heart to ache again. Forcing your eyes away from his, you look to the side. Not wanting to see his face.

It has been three years since you had last seen him. Three years since the breakup. You can clearly remember how heartbroken he was when you had to break it off with him. You also remember how you had walked off, not wanting him to see your tears.

“How.. have you been?” Wanting to break the awkward silence, you speak first. You begin to fidget with the helm of your shirt, a nervous habit of yours. A look of surprise flashes across his face for a moment. His eyes softened as he looked at you. “I’ve missed you.” His voice is soft as he talks. Almost like he’d scare you off if his voice was loud. You notice how he took a step closer to you. You don’t move, staying frozen in place. A hand is gently placed on your cheek. You hesitantly look up at him, meeting his brown eyes with yours. The way he looks at you makes your heart skip a beat. It’s a look you haven’t seen in a long time.

A look of love.

He wasn’t a bad boyfriend, if anything he was the perfect guy. He was sweet and loving. Almost everyday he’d showered you with affection and gifts. There wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t do for you, but as the relationship went on, things in your life started to go downhill. Your friends started to distance themselves from you, anytime you tried to talk to them, they would leave hurriedly. Whenever someone tried to talk to you or heavens forbid flirt with you. They would turn up dead. Leaving you feeling like you were cursed.

Reed wanted your attention every second of the day, making your grades drop from the lack of attention. You even got fired from your then job due to your boss thinking you weren’t ‘dedicated’, even if you’ve been with them for two years. It was slowly destroying your mental health. But at least Reed was there for you!

“You don’t need them.”

“You just need me, darling.”

“I’m all you will ever need.”

The same phrases are repeating in your head the longer you look at him. Memories filling your head by the minute until you shake those thoughts away. You can’t go back. Not that things have finally gotten better.

“Please don’t touch me, Reed. We aren’t together anymore.” You gently push his hand away from your cheek. As you were about to put your hand down, he suddenly grabbed it and held your hand in his. Fingers intertwined with yours. While his other hand grabbed your shoulder. The action caught you by surprise.

“But we can be.” Your breath hitched at his words. “Things can go back to the way they were. When we were happy together.” His voice sounding smooth. The same way whenever he wanted to convince you to do something.

“No, Reed, we can’t go back to that again. It wasn’t healthy.” You tried to explain to him. Trying to pull your hand away from his. Wanting to create distance between you and him. But he didn’t budge. Fear spreading throughout your body. It didn’t helped that you guys were in the secluded part of town.

“That’s what they’re telling you, huh? I knew it was a bad idea to let them get close to you.” A frown replaced his smile as he talked about your friends.

“I’m sorry but I wasn’t giving you a choice, darling.”

You wanted to get away but it all seem futile as he got closer. His lips met yours. The kiss was so gentle and would’ve been nice under any other circumstances. He kept you in place before pulling away. A smirk appearing on his face. The look in his eyes changed.

The look of a predator that has caught his prey.

You have a feeling that he’s not letting you go again.

[fruity-mega-coconut69]

The Quiet Kid

[pairings]: Tara Carpenter x Reed!Fem!Reader

[Summary]: Your love for Tara has to be put aside due to a certain black cloaked, masked killer returning into your life.

[warnings]: Swearing, mentions of murder, stabbing.

A/N: Idk if i should post a part 2 of this so , we'll see.

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

You were in the kitchen talking to Mindy after they came home from the party. She was talking about how Tara almost hooked up with an asshole. You sighed in both relief and disappointment as she mentioned  Chad saving Tara.  After she finished, Anika walked inside the kitchen and wnt over to Mindy, kissing her. You smiled at the couple and decided to make your way over to Tara’s room to check on her. You were nearly there when you heard Quinn say, “Did i cock-block you? “

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

 “What did you just say? “ You heard Tara say. You stepped closer to the room, but Quinn still hasn’t noticed you. “ I cock-blocked you. “ 

Suddenly, you heard another voice, “No “Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach as you recognized the voice to be Chad’s. 

It seemed like Quinn would just not quit it. “ I cock-blocked you, didn't i?”

“Immediate no” Tara says with a little disgust in her voice.

“Please, stop saying the word ‘cock’ “ Chad whined and laughed as he looked at Quinn. “What did you need? “ Tara has had enough of her roommate.

“My phone “ 

 “ Don’t ever enter the room like that again. “ Tara demanded of Quinn.

“I won’t “

“I’m gonna go. But get some rest, get sober and please don’t kill your sister, okay? She loves you very much.” There was a beat of silence when you saw the shadow of Chad heading out. “ Good night! “ Your eyes lowered to the floor in realization of the situation as Chad walked out of the room. As soon as he saw you, he averted his gaze and quickly walked past you. 

Soon Quinn backed out of the room too. She looked at you when she realized you were standing just about outside of the room, leaning against the wall. She gave you a look of  sympathy and walked past you. About everybody knew about your crush on the younger Carpenter. But you couldn’t really blame them for choosing Chad as the better partner for Tara. He was strong and fun, kind and charming. Also you just about moved in with them the same time as Quinn, it was no surprise that they didn’t really trust you. 

You swallowed hard and finally pushed your body off of the wall and decided to walk past her room to get to your own. As you did so, you felt yourself stop in your tracks as you saw Tara smiling like an idiot while laying on her bed. For a moment a small smile appeared on your face too, but soon you remembered that the reason for that is probably Chad. Shaking your head, you walked over to your room and went inside., immediately feeling  a wave of comfort wash over you as you sit down in the armchair in the corner of the room beside a little bookshelf.  Picking out the book you are currently reading, you leaned back and pulled your headphones up to your ears from around your neck, relaxing. 

After about 30 minutes or so, you hear shouting from the living room. You put your book down and walked out of the room. You glance at the Tv and gasp. That's When you notice Tara and Sam shouting at each other

“ It’s a big city! “ Tara exclaimed “ It’s halloween! Everybody is wearing masks! “ 

You see Sam shaking her head. “ Tara! Tara, this isn’t a coincidence! “ Tara huffs and looks at her sister with almost pleading eyes. “You knew him! “

“Barely “ She shook her head as she looked at you guys standing in the living room, watching them. 

“ Chad, Mindy back me up. “ Chad is to speak first “well, it is a little bit.. “ He trails off. “ Close to home “Mindy finishes for him. “ See? “ Sam turns back to Tara, waiting for her response.

She scoffed and shook her head, looking behind her at Quinn. “ Quinn, your dad’s a cop, right? “ Quinn glances up at Tara from the ground “  Can you call him and find out what’s going on? “  Tara steps back and looks at Sam. “ Before you make the unilateral decision to abandon my college education and flee the fucking state!” 

“ I’m calling him now, “ Says Quinn as she puts the phone up to her ear. You shut your eyes close in exhaustion, taking your hands and running them down your face while groaning into them. You all suddenly hear a phone ringing. You take your hands off your face immediately to look whose it is. Sam started walking towards her phone slowly, and your body tensed up-as did the others’ too- as you put your hands down at your sides, clenching them. 

“Who is it? “ Sam didn’t answer her sister’s question, just declined the call and put her phone back down. 

“Why did everyone just freak out when her phone rang? “ Ethan asked, completely clueless. 

Anika looks at him and sighs “ You gotta keep up, my dude. “ She shakes her head.

Suddenly Quinn spoke up. “Sam “ She gets up and walks over to Sam. “ My dad wants to talk to you. “ Sam takes the phone and puts it up to her ear. 

You shake your head and start heading towards the door, but Mindy speaks up. “ Hey, where are you going?” Almost everyone's attention is turned to you as you stand at the door, holding the handle. 

“I-I was just…going for a walk. “ You curse at yourself for not having a better excuse. 

“Oh hell nah, Y/N. You’ll either get attacked or….you are ghostface. “ You scoff at her and look at the floor. “ …..I’m one of the last people to be ghostface. I can assure you, Mindy. “ With that, you unlock the door and swing it open, walking out of the apartment. 

You are walking aimlessly around the city with your headphones on, humming softly as the chilly october breeze. Suddenly, your music stops and you frown, taking out your phone. When you do, you see a caller ID that says, unknown. You swallow hard and clench your jaw, tapping on the accept call option as you put the phone up to your ear.

A raspy voice that you know all too well started laughing into your ear. You gritted your teeth . “ Well, well ,well. If it’s not Y/n, the big miracle. “

“ What do you want? “

“Oh, nothing, just y’know…….to, uh, “ He chuckles and takes a deep breath. And a shiver ran down your spine at the sound “ Gut you “

You stop walking, completely frozen. “ W-what? “ You look around in a hurry. “I mean, you could be the first legacy character that I killed. Why would you want to leave out on that? It is utterly unfair, that you’re alive and still noone gives a fuck, Y/n “ 

You had enough and hung up, starting to run. Suddenly strong arms grasp at your body. “ Oh, are you trying to get away from  me? Sweet little thing, it’s over. “ He laughed and swung his knife back. Within seconds, the knife was plugged into your side as you let out a gut wrenching scream. 

You are successful at prying his strong arms off from around your body, once again starting to run. You hear the sounds of the heavy pair of boots behind you, you ran for what felt like hours until you got somewhere more public where there were a lot of people. When you stop, you look behind you, your body relaxing when you can’t see him anymore. You put your hand on your wound and press on it, wincing in pain. Breathing heavily, you notice a bench and sit down on it.

A couple of hours later the sun has set when your phone rings. Your body tenses as your shaking, bloody hands pick up your phone. The bleeding stopped a few hours ago, as you decided not to go anywhere near a doctor. “ H-hello? “ 

“Y/n “ You gasp as you recognize the voice, sitting up. “ Oh my god, Kirby? “

She chuckles on the other end of the line, “ Yeah, it’s good to hear your voice, lil’ sis. “

You smile weakly. “ Yours too. So what’s up? “

“Uh, I'm at the police station with your friends. I would like you to come here. “ Your eyebrows furrow in both concern and confusion. “ O-Okay. Yeah, i’m like, 10 minutes away. “

“ wonderful. See you then “ With that, she hung up.

After about 10 minutes you arrived at the police station. You walked through the ocean of reporters and into the building. In the hallway, you saw Sam, Tara, Kirby and Detective Bailey. You walk up to them. “ Hey, what’s…..going on? “ 

Tara and Sam looked at you surprised. “ Y/n “ You nod in their direction then look at Kirby who smiles at you and goes to hug you, but immediately notices the dried blood on your shirt and hands. “OH my god, Y/N! What the fuck happened to you? “ 

Tara was quickly by your side to check your wound while you pursed your lips at Kirby. You let out a breath of air. “ I…was, uh, attacked. Last night. “ Tara looked into your eyes but was fast to look away to check for other wounds. “ A-and you didn’t go to the hospital? “ You shrug and turn back to Kirby. 

“ What is it you want me here for? “ 

“ Well, first of all to say hi. And second of all, I thought i would inform you about some things.  “ She looked down at the ghostface mask in her hands.

After you were done speaking to Kirby, you, Tara and Sam walked out of the building, being welcomed by a dozen reporters. Sam wraps an arm around Tara in order to keep her close. You reach your hand out for Tara to take. As soon as she does, you give it a slight squeeze. When you are out of the crowd, you suddenly hear and all too familiar voice behind you.

“ Gale Weathers, channel 4 “ 

You guys turned around and looked back at Gale. “ Do you girls think you are the reason the ghostface killer has come to the Big Apple? “ Sam scoffed at her and started shaking her head. You took a step back when she swung her arm back to throw a punch at Gale, Unsuccessfully. 

Gale chuckles. “ Nice try, sweetie. But I've done this dance before- “ She was cut off by Tara, as she punched her in the face. Your eyes widened and you looked at Tara, smirking.

Hot

“ Stay away from us. “ Although you did enjoy seeing Tara punch someone, Gale was your friend. So you looked at her to see if she was okay, to which she gave you a nod. You went to catch up with Tara and Sam but Gale came after you guys and looked at the Carpenter sisters in disbelief. 

“ Are you still mad at me? “ You raised your eyebrows in curiosity. 

Sam turned back around, mad. “ You said you wouldn’t write a book about what happened ! “ She exclaimed. “ And then you wrote a book about what happened. 

Gale rolled her eyes, scoffing .” Oh, come on. Somebody was gonna write about it! “ She pauses. “ It’s what I do!  “

“ I heard you couldn’t sell the movie rights “ Tara raised her eyebrows at her. You looked at her, simply admiring. 

Gale stumbled over her own words. “ I-It’s all about true-crime limited series these days. “ 

“ After everything we went through together “ Sam paused. “ What would Dewey think. “ Your jaw clenched at the mention of the man that you had adored dearly even when he wasn’t with you. You pushed Sam in the shoulder lightly and glared at her. She looked at you, confused but then glanced back at the woman in-front of her. 

Gale looks at her and after a minute of silence, she speaks up. “ That’s a low blow “

“So was your book. “ Sam spat out bitterly.  “ You called me unstable and a born killer ! “ Gale raised her shoulders. “ That’s..taken out of context. “ 

“That’s literally a quote. “ 

“ You don’t think what you wrote has something to do with what's happening to us.? “ Tara asked her angrily. Your eyes traveled back and forth between the three women, watching with curiosity as the fight elaborated. “ Come on “ 

You guys started walking towards the taxi. But Gale once again spoke up behind you. “ Hey, I talked to Sidney ! “You stopped in your tracks and turned around. 

“She’s not coming here is she? “ 

Gale shakes her head. “ No …..She sends her love, but she’s taking Mark and the kids someplace safe. She deserves to have her happy ending.” 

“On that much, we agree “ Sam says then opens the door to the taxi and gets in, you after her. “ Hey, i wanna catch this fucker as much as you do. “ You heard Gale say. 

Tara stops and looks at her. “ Maybe. Or maybe you’re just afraid that without ghostface in your life, you’re gonna fade away. “  She gets in and the taxi drives away. 

You look between them “ Soo uh, how are you all doing? “ They both glare at you and then both continue to stare out the window. Until Sam spoke up.

“ Wait, so how do you know Kirby and Gale? “ 

“Well, it’s a really funny story, uhm “ They both look at you as you swallow and look at the floor. “ So, Kirby’s actually my sister and Iknow Gale because I met her at woodsboro not long before I was in the 2011 woodsboro killings. I was 8 “ 

They both stare at you, speechless. And for the rest of the ride you sat in awkward silence. 

Late on, you are all sitting on benches around campus as Mindy is again, explaining the rules. “ As terrifying as this all is, I'm actually glad I got a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time. “ She adjusts her sweater. 

You all look at her waiting for her to continue. “ It’s fine. Okay. “ She sighs. "The way I see it, someone is out to make a sequel to the requel. “  

Anika puts her hand up “ Uh, what’s a requel? “ 

Mindy looks at her girlfriend” You’re beautiful sweetie. Let’s hold the questions for the ned” Anika smiles at her. Sam spoke up. “ Stab 1 took place in woodsboro. Stab 2 took place  in college. “

Tara looks at her sister then at Mindy. “ So we think that the killer is trying to copy the movies? “ Mindy nods at her. “ That is one possibility.  “  You nod along as you try to listen. “ Heroes now in college: check. Suspicious new characters brought in to round out the suspect list and/or body count: check, check and check. “

Ethan’s trembling voice spoke up. “ I don’t like this. “ He shakes his head. Mindy retreacts. “ But it can’t just be about Stab 2. “ 

Tar’s eyebrows furrow at  her friend's statement. “ Why not? “ 

“It would make sense, if this were just a sequel. But we are not in a sequel, because nobody just makes sequels anymore” She throws her arms around. There is a short pause before she throws her arms up .” We are in a franchise !” “ She looked at each of your directions. “ And there are certain rules to a continuing franchise” 

Everybody sighs as Sam says. “ I had a feeling “ 

“ Rule one: Everything is bigger than the last time “ She spreads her arms while looking at you guys. You put your clammy hands on your face in  exhaustion, letting out a sigh into them. “ Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count. Longer chases, shoot-outs, beheadings.You got to top what came before to keep people coming back. “

Chad looks up from his notebook. “ Beheadings? “ He points his pencil at Mindy, who nods at him. “ Beheadings.  Rule two: whatever happened the last time, expect the opposite. Franchises only survive by subverting expectations. If the killers last time were whiny snowflake, film nerds with Letterboxd accounts instead of  personalities, you can bet the opposite will be tre here. “ Sam sighs as she processes the information. 

“ And rule three:  No one is safe. Legacy characters?  Cannon fodder at this point” Tara looks at you, fidgeting with your rings as you listen to Mindy.  “ Usually brought back only to be killed off in some cheap bid for nostalgia “ You clenched your jaw. “ It’s not looking too good for Gale and Kirby. “ Her voice softens at the end of her sentence as she looks at Sam.

“ Oh, and that’s not even the worst part! “

“Ah, this is the part where she tells us the worst part “ Chad says, still looking at his notes.

“ The worst part is, franchises are just continuing episodic installments designed to boost an IP. Which means, main characters are completely expendable now, too.” You all looked at her, waiting for her to continue. “ Laurie Strode, Nancy Thompson, Ellen Ripely, SallyHardesty, Jigsaw, Tony Stark, James bond—I mean, even Luke Skywalker all died so their franchises could live on.That means it’s not just the friend group. Any of us could go at anytime, especially Sam and Tara” Mindy looks at you all sadly.

You sit up straighter and put your shaking hands on your knees. “ W-wait, any of us? “ Ethan asks. “ Yeah. “

 “This- am i in the friend group? “

 “yeah “ 

“ Am i like one of the targets? “

“Mm-hmm “ 

He looks at the ground then back up at Mindy in disbelief. “ Am i gonna die a virgin? “  You all looked at each other in confusion. 

“ That was a weird overshare. But it brings us to our current suspects: Ethan “ Mindy steps closer to him, smiling. “ The shy dorky guy, who no on suspects because he’s so shy and dorky.”

“Okay. Wait, why am I on the suspect list? Because I'm randomly Chad’s roommate? “ He points at his roommate. 

“ Roommate lotteries can be juked. You could have fixed it to get next to us. “ She leans closer to him, but quickly leans back. “ Quinn. The slutty roommate. A horror movie classic.”

Quinn looks at her. “ ‘sex positive’ but…thank you? “ 

“ Mm-hmm. Um, how did you come to live with Sam and Tara? “ 

“ I answered their ad online “ She looks at Sam who nods at her. 

“ Okay, say no more. You’ve already implicated yourself enough.” Mindy exclaims.

“It was an anonymous ad, Mindy. And you know we vetted her. Plus you know her dad is a cop. “ 

“And that makes it more likely that she’s the killer, because having a cop dad is a great cover.  Do you not remember how these movies work, Tara?! “ 

Quinn looks at Sam “ Is she always like this? “  Sam just tilts her head.

“ And, of course, the quiet, sweet random girl from god knows where. “  She looks at you and you feel small under her judging gaze. “ I am guessing you also just answer the ad online, hm?  “ 

“ We-well- i- “ 

“ Right. Okay. You could be one of our prime suspects! “ 

“What, why? “ Tara asked Mindy, standing up. But you pulled her back down. 

“ Because, Tara. No one knows anything about her really. She just popped up out of nowhere. “  You nod your head along, kind of agreeing. “ And finally….Anika “ She smiles at her. 

Anika blows her a kiss that Mindy returns. But her smile quickly fades. “ Never trust the love interest. “ 

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

A/N: i feel like there has been too much Tara content lately.

[tangerinesgirl]

Forbidden Fruit

Mr Reed x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+, explicit

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Mr Reed invites you into his house to discuss polygamy and the flaws of virginity.

Warnings: smut, virgin/inexperienced reader, age gap (reader is of consensual age), creampie (reader on birth control), dirty talk, blasphemy, possible spoilers for Heretic (2024)

"My question is how do you feel about polygamy?"

The snowfall gently beats against the tiny windows as you nurse the cup of tea Mr Reed has prepared for you. Using it as warmth rather than to quench your thirst. Even if he did seem like a pleasant man, you didn't entirely trust a drink a stranger has made for you in another room. You fear your instincts may be right when he asks you this question.

You place the cup down and clear your throat as you process his personal inquiry.

"Well, it's forbidden in the b-"

"Yes, but what do you think?"

He emphasises that word, pointing his index finger at you, before resting it on his lips, waiting for your answer.

A beat. Your eyes widen as you try to think of a tactful response.

"I um, I can't really say, it's none of my business what other people decide to do with their lives."

Mr Reed narrows his eyes slightly, not the answer he was looking for apparently.

"Hmmm", he takes a moment to have a swig of his tea from his inscribed 'hubby' mug. You look over your shoulder as if his wife would magically appear behind you.

"And I thought it was just because you've never felt the touch of a man."

You snap your head back around to face him, your cheeks instantly turning red.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, I may have overstepped", he places his mug down and makes eye contact with you, emphasising his apology.

"I think I should leave", you start to get up, your legs shaking slightly from his statement.

"I understand my dear, let me just get your coat."

The couch creaks as Mr Reed also stands up, promptly leaving the room. Walking over to the door you watch the snow hail down. Not ideal biking weather but it's still better than being in here with him.

"Here we go, one coat", he holds up your woolen jacket passing it to you.

As you take it, he starts to wrap your scarf around your neck. You can feel his breath tickling your hair.

"You know", his deep voice echoes in your ears, "many religions don't believe in virginity. The Virgin Mary simply a mistranslation with the meaning changing over the years."

He takes your coat and starts to help you put it on over your arms, patting down the collar, hands lingering on your neckline a little too long.

"I think waiting for marriage is simply outdated, people should just seize the day. Life is too short for their lives to be dictated by an invisible omnipotent force with historic rules."

You cringe internally hearing him blaspheme your religion, you're just about to interject when he continues.

"It's simply too good to miss that closeness of two people becoming one", he walks in front of you as he starts to button up your coat. He looks down at you, still maintaining eye contact every so often while he fastens the clasps.

"The warmth of each other as you melt into one another's skin. The ache in your bones of needing them inside you."

You break the eye contact as you watch the veins in his hands clench with each turn. Your imagination in overdrive, you wipe your palms on your coat, nervously. Mr Reed notices and tilts your chin up to face him.

"The taste of them on your tongue, as you swallow each other's moans..."

His eyes drift towards your lips. Your body is screaming at you to leave, but part of you wants that sin, that forbidden fruit. You wrestle with your demons, but you find him oddly hypnotic and attractive. You guessed he was in his 50s or 60s, definitely older than you in your 20s, but that only adds to the temptation.

"... as everything builds and builds into one big explosion of ecstasy. That white heat of entering Heaven."

Your thoughts start to drown out as your lips crash into his. Head empty as your tongue starts to swirl around his, gripping the back of his head as the kiss grows deeper.

Mr Reed yanks off your coat, buttons popping off onto the carpet, but neither of you care. He breaks the kiss briefly, only to remove his glasses, before resuming with just as much vigor as before.

You can feel that heat starting from deep inside of you, just as Mr Reed was explaining, as you start to remove your blouse and skirt. His hands start to wander around your bra before unclasping the back.

Mr Reed starts to guide you back towards the sitting room as you continue to undress, removing your tights and underwear. You notice he doesn't remove his clothes as you feel the weave of his jumper, rough against your bare skin. You don't mind, you're too busy thinking of other things right now.

He quickly sits down on the sofa, holding your wrist, motioning for you to sit on top of him. Slightly apprehensive about riding him for your first time, you trust him and place yourself onto his lap, and resume the kiss.

Your hands start to pull down his trousers as his cock bounces free. Your eyes widen when you realise how girthy he is, his dick already rock hard and twitching with anticipation. He can't help but smile when he sees your reaction, as gently guides himself through your folds. The veins of his cock drag along your clit as wetness seeps out of you, preparing yourself for him. You hum at the feeling while he contently sighs at your warmth coating him.

After a moment, Mr Reed positions himself at your entrance and gently pushes you by the hips, guiding you onto him. His eyes roll into the back of his head as your cunt engulfs him, fitting around him tightly yet perfectly. You wince at first, but the further you sink down onto him, the better it feels.

You pause when he is fully seated inside of you, feeling his cock teasing at your cervix, before slowly starting to grind on his lap. You place your hands on his forearms for stability, as he starts to kneed at your ass with his fingertips, bruises threatening to surface under his grip.

The sofa creaks with every thrust as you ride his cock, your breasts bouncing with the effort. You let go of him to grip onto the back of the couch instead, his tongue licking at your nipples as you lean over him. His hands start to trail up your back, pushing you slightly closer towards him.

Your lips meet once again, but feels like you've never been apart. Your mind starts to wander again, thinking about what God would think seeing you give away your virginity to the first man to look at you with lust in his eyes. Then you think maybe God shouldn't even be looking in the first place as it's none of his business. You both wanted this, what could be more natural?

As your mind wanders, your body starts to tense up. Your orgasm creeps up on you, before you realise what's happening as your pace starts to stutter. Your walls clamp down around him, arching your back as you let out a guttural moan from deep inside you. You shake and pant as your cunt pulses out your release, soaking Mr Reed's cock.

He isn't far behind you as he leans back and moans in return, releasing warm ropes of his cum inside you. You don't mind as you have the implant, feeling his seed drip out of you and onto his trousers, as you start to come down from your high.

You straighten yourself up, tucking your distressed hair behind your ears, watching him finish inside you. He lightly groans at the effort of filling you, it's almost enough to make you aroused again.

He slowly exhales and opens his eyes. They crinkle as he smiles at you, laughter lines standing out, you begin to memorise each wrinkle. Tracing your fingers along them, almost like reading a palm. Neither of you care that he's still seated inside of you, growing soft. Or that the snow has eased off and your bike was just outside the metal lined walls. Mr Reed grins at the fact he has you wrapped around his little finger, knowing now that you could never leave. Proving that power really is the one true religion.

[oddballwriter]

💳💥💳💥💳 THE SYSTEM WITH A METALHEAD I BEG OF YOU!! ( if comfy ofc )

Like short 5'2-5'3 reader who looks SCARY as shit and wears all black+tatted but is super cutesy until someone says the wrong shit and they get absolutely insane?

feel like steven would be like raging heart eyes

( maybe smutty maybe not either wayyy..)

- 🌑

Steven Grant

Steven was scared of you at first, that's for sure. The all black and scary look definitely worked on him

It wouldn't be until you approached him that he realized you weren't going to bite him

He finds the difference between the two of you funny, positively.

To me, he seems more like a listener of ABBA and The B-52, those kind of older songs that are more up beat. Something that some suburban dad definitely has on vinyl

I firmly believe that Steven fucking loves the B-52s for some reason, he just has those vibes

Softer type of music, you know? Definitely not metal

But he does enjoy that you're kind and really nice rather than acting the part of how you look

But the one time when you two were out and someone insulted you both and you proceeded to yell at them and cuss them out was a day that he thinks about a lot. You weren't even yelling at them for insulting you, you just tore them a new one because they insulted him

He felt something that day, and he's not saying that he wants you to yell at him, but if you bossed him around a little then he's going to do it with a tent in his pants

He's too embarrassed to admit that but it's defiantly something that's there and you'll catch on someday

Back to the actual topic though, Steven doesn't like metal but he supports you liking it since it makes you happy

Would attend a concert with you but he'd have ear plugs in so that the music doesn't hurt his ears or stress him out

Also, you will have to leave him in the back because he's not going in the mosh pit, he would not survive. I'm sorry but he's not built for that

Marc Spector

Okay, Marc doesn't really listen to metal, he's not an avid metal listener. But I'm sure he's listened to a few songs and knows the more mainstream bands

He thinks you're cool though. Similar to my HCs for them with a goth partner, he finds it fascinating how you don't care how people perceive you and just be yourself. You're happy and he uses that as inspiration to be himself too

Marc would listen to metal music with you if it comes up, maybe you expand his knowledge of the genre

Do I think he'd handle a mosh pit? No, I think it would stress him out too much. Too much is happening and it freaks him out. Loves seeing you having fun though so go mosh for him

Marc also respects the fact that you're still polite and not true to how people think you would be, but 100% if you tell someone off then he's all for it. You tell 'em!

Since I went on a whole side tangent on Steven's music tastes, it's only right I do it for Marc

Marc sort of shares the same taste as Steven where he listens to songs that were around when they were younger. He's a classics kind of guy. He likes it when he hears people from back then on the radio

This man refuses to leave the 80's and 90's music scene. You will have to pry it from him in the field of reeds

Jake Lockley

Jake is such a "I love all genres" guy, he listens to everything and finds something to like in it. Even country, yeah sure modern country sucks but older ones are the ones he talks about when e talks about country music

So yeah, Jake definitely likes metal and can get into it. So feel free to play it around him

He also thinks you're cool and loves your whole look. Buys a shirt to match

100% would love to see you tear someone a new one so long as they deserve it. This man is an enabler, he's in the back cheering you on

Also, if you ask him to go to a concert with you, he will say yes so fast

Jake would survive the mosh pit, he would thrive

It lets him let out some stuff that he's been holding back and energy that he can't really put anywhere else

Honestly Jake would be so clearly into your whole metalhead life. He thinks it's hot. He finds it sexy. There's something about the loud music and look that does something for him and he's not going to hide that

Honestly, yell at him in bed, it'll be good foreplay if you're down

[aajjks]

Dark Knight feeling, Die or Kill (m)

A collaboration based on fictional iconic superhero characters, with the bts members; with a twist of obsession and desire, you won’t be able to escape, no matter how much you try, who’s going to save you from them? hint: no one.

written by: @justanotherstarlightmonger

member: seokjin

character: silver surfer

synopsis: Kim Seokjin, the silver surfer, finds his heart of titanium swaying for the first time in millennia, for Reed Richard's prodigy apprentice, who unfortunately calls the planet his master wants to devour, home. Caught between a life long oath to an intergalactic planet devouring fog and the all encompassing obsession the surfer developed with OC, Seokjin will fight tooth and nail to have it all.

release date: [TBD]

written by: @bighitfics

member: yoongi/suga

character: captain america

synopsis. “You’ve been asleep captain yoongi, for almost 22 years” yet I wasn’t surprised by the revelation not one bit just disappointed and perhaps a tad bit disheartened.

The only thing that came into my mind at the moment was her.

My Y/n.

The one thing in my life that kept me going.

The one stability that I had.

The girl who believed in me when the world stranded me.

The girl I’d fight hell just to hold in my arms.

I close my eyes and all I could hear was her sweet voice sobbing and begging me to return back.

Then the crash happened and the rest is history.

The defeat and acceptance of never seeing her again for the sake of others still fresh in my memory.

Where’s she now? Still living in illsan? Does she know that I’m here….that I’ve been found? Would she be waiting like she promised?

“You’re gonna be okay?” the guy asked while I looked around the city that had so sense of familiarity still trying to find some sort of relevance to ease my mind but it was utterly useless because everything was foreign as though I’ve been transported to a different planet.

“Yeah I just…I had a date.” I answer him.

release date: [TBD]

written by: @bahbah-bee

member: hoseok/jhope

character: Batman/Bruce Wayne.

synopsis. Billionaires don’t develop attachments. Superheroes don’t make deals with villains. This was something ingrained in Mr. Hoseok through experience. Gotham didn’t need to know the truth about Batman, and in return all the dealings of the underworld were taken care of. It didn’t matter if people got hurt, as long as justice was served. At least, that was until he met you.

release date: [TBD]

written by: @ratherbefangirling

member: namjoon/RM.

character: black widow

synopsis. Namjoon was stolen from his birth parents by the agency. Since then he's learned many different things, lived many different lives, felt many different things. Black Monster. The best of the best. That's what everyone knows him as. Is it too much to ask that someone knows his name. Is it too much for the extraordinary to ask for the ordinary. It might be, but black monster always gets his way no matter what.

release date: [TBD]

written by: @pynkgothicka

member: jimin

character: scarlet witch

synopsis. Jimin has kept up your fantasy-esque life up for all you can remember. So why is that idyllic life showing cracks all of a sudden?

release date: [TBD]

written by: @bebejungkook

member: taehyung/V

character: Angel (x-men)

synopsis. To everyone in the city, Kim Taehyung is a mutant and the heir to the Kim fortune, helping keep the city safe and secure. But to you, he is your guardian Angel, saving you from harm and gifting you with wisdom. You go to him for guidance and comfort, how could he say no to his sweet and innocent little dove? His heart beats for you only and he would do anything to protect and keep you safe, after all he is your guardian angel.

release date: [TBD]

wrïtten by: @aajjks

mëmbër: jungkook

chàracter: Spïder-Mân

synöpsïs. He wöuldn’t lêt you cräwl äwäy from him, you bëlongêd to him.

fïc téäsër: xx

rëlëäsë dätë: [TBD]

[sunfloweraro]

LUtober day 9: Festival

Day two of Hallowed Week in Hateno brings about a festival. Warriors has his reservations, but Wild just wants to dance with him.

Celebration week:

Day 1

Day 2 (You are here)

Day 3

Day 4

Day 5

Day 6

Day 7

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

“Why am I here again?”

“Because,” Wild said, dragging out the word, “It’s Festival Day, and I want to spend time with you.”

Warriors stared at them, not quite comprehending. “Why?”

“Gods, you’re as bad as our Veteran,” Wild huffed. “You’re my friend, that’s why! Now come on, stop moping and let’s have some fun!” And with that, they dragged Warriors into the throng of the crowd spread out along Hateno’s main thoroughfare, their pockets jingling with rupees to spend. A sigh escaped Warriors, but he let himself be dragged along—better to go along with this than be compared to their grumpy Veteran, after all. He had several hidden daggers on his person should the need arise, anyway.

The chatter crashed into his ears, leaving his shoulders tense even as Wild squealed with delighted anticipation. The lanterns from the feast yesterday were still strung up between houses, as well as the carved pumpkins sitting on porches. But now, brightly coloured stalls had been set up, merchants calling out their wares over the cacophony of the crowd. The sweetness of baked treats rested heavily on the wind, turning Warriors’ stomach. Folks on stilts dressed in bright costumes wandered above the crowd, and somewhere amongst it all, a band played music, a high and lilting tune with lutes and reeds and tambourines.

Wild gasped excitedly, dragging him over toward the band, where dozens of people danced together. Warriors faltered, eyeing each of them off warily. “Champion, what if the Yiga—”

“Gods,” Wild said. “Be quiet and dance with me, Captain!” They took his hands, pushing them back and forth with the beat of the music. Warriors ignored their attempt, searching the crowd, and Wild took advantage of his distraction to lift one of their hands, forcing him into a spin that left him stumbling over his own feet and tripping to the ground.

“Oops,” Wild said, not at all sorry.

“You’re a rascal, you know that?”

Wild grinned. “Come on, Captain. Let go for a little while. Dance with me.”

A sigh escaped Warriors, but he gave in, a smile lifting his lips. “Alright. But be warned, I have two left feet.”

Wild beamed, hauling him to his feet. “I’ll take my chances.”

[starlightshadowsworld]

Thalia leaves and takes bby Jason with her.

Chiron is like that baby can't be here, he's different, he's not like us.

But he can't say why.

He can't explain that Jason is Roman and thus cannot be in the Greek Camp.

Thalia is pissed.

As is Annabeth, Luke and Grover.

Grover is trying to appeal to Chiron.

Because surely we can't turn a baby away.

Jason is crying because he can sense the mood is off and Thalia is instantly like "Hey, hey its okay."

Cradling him in her arms trying to soothe him.

Luke and Annabeth, smart lil rule breakers they are bring up that Jason is unclaimed.

And thus no one knows who his parentage is.

So he cannot be denied entry to Camp for being different.

As far as anyone knows he's a demigod, and Thalia's little brother.

Thalia who they know is a child of Zeus.

And they know Jason can make sparks appear.

Grover, subtly referencing the great prophecy and that it's best to keep him here to keep an eye on him.

Chiron reluctantly agrees.

Thalia doesn't thank him, merely glares and says if he tries anything, immortal or not she'll kill him.

Jason, lil guy that he is finds this hilarious.

Thalia: Yeah? Yeah you want me to kill the mean horse man? Get him with my sword like boop bopp pokes his tummy

Bby Jason: giggles, clapping his hands

They don't become all rounders.

Just kinda come and go as they please.

None of them like Chiron.

Mr D finds em interesting and knows they aren't his problem so he's a bit more friendly.

Though Thalia did beat him at poker so he's a bit salty.

They are all claimed minus Jason, and while Luke and Annabeth love their siblings, each other come first.

Luke is a year older than Thalia and takes his job as older brother very seriously.

Ain't no traitor boy here. Still wants a better life for demigods and wishes they didn't have to constantly be on the move and be safe.

But even Camp Half-blood, a place made for them shows its true colours when it sees people it doesn't like.

Annabeth likes telling Jason stories she's heard and he just curls up in her arms looking at her.

Like he's listening intently.

Grover when he's able to joins em, he plays lullabies on his reeds and makes sure they are safe.

The wild is where they belong and it will always welcome them.

Thalia just wants them all safe, she fishes out unused sketchbooks and draws pictures of them all.

Most demigods don't know what to make of them.

But that's okay, they're a family in all the ways that count.

[gogogodzilla]

𝙹𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝟷𝟹, 𝟸𝟶𝟹𝟸, 𝙿𝙼 𝟶𝟻:𝟸𝟷:𝟻𝟹

Summary: You receive some unexpected news and have a drink masterlist ✩ ao3 ✩ wattpad ✩ previous chapter ✩

Gavin leans against the edge of your desk, taking in the wall of documents before him. Over the past few days, you’ve converted your office into an obsessive detective’s wet dream. Cork boards filled with pictures and tidbits of information from the case litter one side of your office, and stacks of files crowd the other. 

You lean back in your chair, surveying the results of your hard work. 

“What are we missing?” you ponder before picking up a stray case file on your desk. 

“We’re still waiting to hear back from the forensics unit about the DNA under that android’s nails,” Gavin answers without turning to face you. 

You set the file down. “You think we can get a lead from that?” 

“I think,” he says as he stands, “that it’s our only lead right now.” 

You lean back in your chair and rub your temples. “I just wish we could figure out a motive. Why in the hell would someone want to build their android, if that’s even what they’re doing?”

“It’s easy to get parts for one thing,” Gavin mentions as he rounds your desk and perches against the edge next to you. You try to ignore the way his leg brushing against yours makes your heart skip a beat. “You think someone at Cyberlife is involved?” 

You shrug, “That was my working theory initially, and I don’t see why that should change. An employee would know where to get the parts in the warehouse that was robbed a few months ago, and an employee would be someone with ‘advanced engineering skills,’ as Hayden put it.” 

Gavin meets your gaze, and his eyes soften for a second. “We’ll figure it out. You have good instincts and the best partner the DPD could offer.” 

A small smile forms as you look up at him, and, for a moment, you have hope. 

The brief moment of comfort is quickly severed by a knock on your office door. There’s barely enough time for Gavin to jump to his feet before the door opens.  

Jason Graff strolls into your office like he’s done countless times before. “Oh good, you’re still here,” he breathes, grinning as his gaze jumps between you and Gavin. 

You stand from your chair. “Officer Reed and I were just discussing the case he’s been working on,” you explain. 

“I can see that,” Jason grins as he motions to the various boards and files scattered around your office. 

“Is there something you need?” 

“I was hoping to speak to you in private, Doctor,” Jason requests, his gaze flicking to Gavin. 

You straighten, and uneasiness fills you. “Of course, sir.” 

Gavin gives you a small nod, “I’ll wait for you outside.”

He heads for the door, grabbing his jacket on the way out. He shuts the door behind him, and you’re left alone with Jason. He takes a seat opposite of you, and motions for you to sit. 

“Your reports from the field have been incredibly insightful,” he praises as he leans back in his chair and adjusts his glasses. 

“Thank you, sir. I’m—”

“That being said,” he cuts you off with a pointed look, “we think it’s time to move into the fine-tuning stage of this little project we have you on. That means working with the engineers here to make sure the androids are fit for police work.” 

“But we haven’t solved the case yet. The person destroying Cyberlife property is still out there,” you point out.

“Yes, and it’s time to let the professionals handle this case, not you and some wannabe detective,” Jason stresses, huffing out a laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, Officer Reed is a great cop, but that’s all he is.” 

A tightness formed in your throat as you looked at Jason. “We can’t just stop now,” you insist, your gaze hardening.  

“It’s not your job, sweetheart,” he groans, rising from his chair. You begin to tremble, and your heart pounds in your chest. Is this really happening? “Get this crap out of here by next week,” he says over his shoulder before exiting. 

You stare at the chair where Jason once sat. You clench your fists, the dull edge of your nails digging into the soft flesh of your palm. This can’t be happening. You’ve been working on this case for two goddamn months, and you’re not giving up when you’re this goddamn close. 

Your mind moves faster than your feet as you make your way to Gavin’s police cruiser. He leans against it, cigarette clasped between his fingers as he scrolls on his phone. He lifts his head at the sound of your hurried steps. Your features pinch in annoyance and he furrows his brow. You reach him, leaving only inches between you.

“What happened?” he questions, tossing his cigarette into the snow. He scans your features as you attempt to unscramble your thoughts. 

You run a hand through your hair before looking up at him. “Have a drink with me,” you murmur, and it’s more of a command than a question. 

His mouth quirks up, “Don’t think Charlie is too eager to see you again.” 

“What I have is better than anything you’ll get at Charlie’s,” you say softly, grinning. “No offense.” 

Gavin barks out a laugh. “Shit, sweetheart. With what Cyberlife is paying you, I would hope you can afford the good stuff.” 

The drive back to your apartment is filled with a palpable energy that hums between the two of you. You nervously drum your fingers against your thigh, a maddening habit you picked up from Gavin. 

“So, I take it the talk didn’t go very well,” Gavin says as he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment building and kills the engine. 

You throw open the passenger side door. “Less talking more walking,” you call before shutting the car door behind you. 

Once inside, the familiar comfort of your apartment does little to quell your nerves. You make a beeline for your cupboard, reaching for the good liquor you keep stashed away and two glasses to go with it. 

Gavin hangs his jacket on the back of one of the bar stools before taking a seat on your couch.

The only sound that fills your apartment is the clinking of the glasses against the counter and the trickle of bourbon as you pour yourself and Gavin a drink. You sink into the plush cushions of your couch and hand Gavin his drink. He nods his head, thanking you. 

You grab the remote off the coffee table in front of you and turn on the TV. The noise is a nice distraction from your muddled thoughts, and you take a sip of your drink. 

Gavin relaxes against the cushions, and his gaze fixes on you. “Alright, spill, sweetheart. You’ve been acting on edge ever since we left Cyberlife.”

You swirl the contents of your glass, watching the amber liquid slosh. “Graff is pulling me off of your case. He said it’s time for our project to move onto the next stage, which includes me making sure the androids are fit for the field.” 

“That’s bullshit,” Gavin snaps. “We’re this close to solving the case, and he wants to pull you off of it.”

He rises to his feet, grabs his drink, and begins pacing in front of your coffee table.

“I don’t like it either, but I don’t have a choice. Groff made it clear that this project takes priority over—” 

“Screw the project, and screw Graff!” Gavin cuts in, his voice raising with each word. “This is exactly why I hate working with you corporate types. All you care about is the end goal.” 

You stand, clenching your fists, “What do you expect me to do? Huh? I don’t have a choice.” 

“You always have a choice. You could fight for this. You could fight for this case,” he insists. 

You glare at him, “I haven’t even been there for six months, I’m not exactly in a position to make demands.” 

“What, then? You wipe your hands of this while more and more androids show up desecrated on the side of the street?” he questions, taking another step toward you. 

“That’s not fair.” 

“No,” he counters, “what’s not fair is having my fucking partner taken from me when we’re so close to solving the case we’ve been working on for months.”

Another step closer. You’re practically nose to nose, screaming at each other to see reason. 

“You think I want this? You think I want to be stuck behind a fucking desk while you’re out there finishing what we started?” you question incredulously. 

Tension lingers between you, both of you standing too close and too stubborn to back down. Gavin’s eyes flare in the dim light of your living room— anger, frustration, and something deeper you can’t discern. 

For a moment, neither of you speak, too caught up in your own arguments to even look at each other. Your chest heaves as you attempt to catch your breath. 

Before either of you can think, Gavin grabs your arms and pulls you closer. Before you can even ask him what the hell he’s doing, his lips are crashing into yours. The taste of bourbon lingers on his lips— sweet, smoky, and utterly intoxicating. 

You press into him, your fingers tangling into his uniform shirt as you get lost in the sensation of him. He deepens the kiss, sliding his hands down to grasp your waist and tug you closer. His breath is hot against your skin, bourbon and something you can’t quite distinguish mixing into something that’s entirely him. Everything about him is tantalizing— his fingertips digging into your waist, the trace of cigarette smoke on his clothes, and the way he kisses you like you’re the only thing that matters. 

Just as quickly as it began, it’s over. He pulls away, and you’re gasping for breath as your mind reels. Your heartbeat pounding in your ears makes it hard to concentrate on anything else. Your eyes flutter open slowly.

His hands fall from your waist. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but all that manages to come out is a shuddering breath. He stares at you, eyes flicking back and forth almost as if searching for something. His jaw clenches, and he shakes his head. Without another word, he steps away, grabs his jacket, and walks out the door. 

He leaves you standing breathless and alone. Your mind spins as the sound of your front door closing echoes throughout your apartment. Your fingers brush against your lips, the ghost of him still lingering. 

You throw back the rest of your drink, relishing the burn in the back of your throat. Anything to keep your mind off what the hell just happened. 

[hispieceofcake]

🎸MY THOUGHTS AND HEADCANONS TO ADAM FROM HAZBIN HOTEL - (for now)🍖

Hello hello folks, I've been thinking about writing about this post/blog for a while now and here it is, because Adam is my favorite character (obsession) and I have a lot of things in my head that I need share before I kidnap someone to listen to me talk about it for hours on end.

Hahaha I'm just kidding...or am I?

TW: Mention of profanity and sex.

I'm writing this blog because I have a lot to say about Adam and I think I'm already bothering my friends too much (just kidding, I'm going to keep filling them with Adam until I say enough is enough🤓👆)

Alright, let's start, firstly I was already a big fan of Hazbin hotel's work since the time Vizziepop had released the pilot on YouTube at the time of on October 28, 2019, and man, I was simply OBSESSED with the work, I had no idea who Adam was at that time, I was only 11 years old (And I know, I know, Hazbin Hotel was not and is not intended for minors, but I didn't have internet surveillance on my parents, so that's what happened and now I'm 18 years old).

And boy, oh boy

I was in complete EUPHORIA when it became public on August 7, 2020 that Hazbin Hotel was going to have a sequel on Amazon, I only knew how to talk about it and was excited waiting for the release date.

And when I watched that episode where Charlie has a meeting with Adam...I was like "THAT MAN, I NEED THAT MAN‼️‼️"

And that song..."Hell is Forever"... I can't remember a day that I didn't clean the house listening to that sound and pretending the broom was a guitar while I beat my hair like an 80s rocker high (I know, it's an exaggerated comparison but that's how I feel, so let me have it).

Here, listen to this work of art sung by our (MY) beloved Alex Brightman

In addition to the song "Stick it to the man" from the musical "School of rock" that Adam references in one of the items on the list of things to get into paradise, coincidentally his voice actor Alex Brightman also He is the main voice of the song and a character in the musical.

I spent all day listening to her today, but that's the least of it

There are also some songs by other singers that make me think of Adam because of their lyrics, for example Lana del Rey, there is a song of hers that all I think of when I hear it is Adam, unfortunately I can't share it here because it is a discarded song by the singer that I managed to download on a pirated website that has been taken down a while ago.

The songs that make me think of him are "Push me down" and what made me think of Adam is the following part "I'm your little baby doll and you are my mister rock 'n roll", the song "Brooklyn Baby" because of the music part "Well, my boyfriend's in a band, He plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed", the others songs are "Say yes to Heaven" and "Angels Forever".

Adam, besides being my favorite character and hyperfocus, was the reason I met the character Beetlejuice (my other hyperfocus) and the voice actor and actor Alex Brightman. Because he was the one who aroused my curiosity to know who his voice actor was since I recognized that his voice was the same as Fizzarolli's, and then when researching and discovering the actor, I also ended up discovering about Beetlejuice, I even have a blog about it, if you want to read it, this is it here.

Just like with Beetlejuice, I'm producing a page with drawings and collages about Adam in my sketchbook that I might post later in a future post about my sketchbook, but that's another topic.

In addition, I'm trying to put together some songs to create a playlist based on him, in it I'm putting rock songs from the 80s that I feel suit him or that he would listen to, some songs by the norwegian singer Aurora which are very reminiscent of and are based on the garden of Eden and Adam from the bible (although the Adam from Hazbin hotel and the one from the bible are completely different).

Some time ago I was writing a fanfic about Adam with an authorial character completely made by me, it was just a fanfic that I had written on character IA but then I decided to write it myself, but I never got around to posting it and kept it stored in my notepad.

The story took place in the timeline of the first season of the series, where heaven discovered that demons and beings from hell now possessed angelic fist weapons and could hurt or kill the exterminating angels after the death of one of the exterminating angels, they would need a new strategy or a new "weapon", and then with the decision of God and all the seraphim, she was created, an angel made to protect heaven and bring back balance by killing sinners in hell, her name was Angelita, and she would be handed over to Adam who would have to train her until the day of the next day of extermination (which would be the day in which Adam dies), throughout the story Adam would begin to feel something for her, unlike Lilith and Eve, he would fall in love out of true love and not obligation, this love between the two would be something forbidden (as a metaphor for the forbidden fruit of Eden) since by God's order she would have to be pure and virgin and that Adam would not fall into temptation for her, I won't tell the rest of the story, if you want I'll make a post just about that (I'll leave you curious hehe), all I can say is that Adam will not die and the ending is tragic, for all sides.

🤘🏻MY HEADCANONS ABOUT ADAM🎸

These headcanons are some things I thought Adam might like, do, or make me think of him, and I'm also writing this because most of the headcanons I find about him are about sex or couples things (Not that they're bad, some are actually quite cute and I read them when I need comfort), so I'm here to contribute some content just about him.

• About how he feels about have been betrayed

I know, Adam is not the best person in the world but man, he is not a monster, he is a human, the first human, unfortunately, human nature is curious and destructive, not that this is an excuse for everything Adam committed. But then I think, "How much did it hurt to be cheated on twice?", "Did he feel worthless, insufficient?", I know how much it hurts to be cheated on, then I think how bad he felt and feels, but he hides it all behind a false personality of "Dick Master" and "The First Man", titles, high ego and falsehood to hide your real self. The only part of Adam that we were shown about him was him being extremely selfish, rude, arrogant and sexist, but all in scenes where he was exposed to people, people who weren't close to him, and then I wonder if he's just all that, but I feel like Adam he's just a hurt man who hides what he feels behind a false personality, just like Angel Dust does. Proof that he cares about people (at least those he considers close) was his smile at Lute as he slowly lost his life in the arms of the exterminating angel who cried seeing him dying. (I cried so much at this scene 😭)

Adam is a sexist character, I can't deny that, but man, he's the first man, no one ever told him what was right and wrong, they always let him do what he wanted from the beginning of his creation, and even in heaven, but now he had Sera to put him in his place at least when she was around.

I might just be taking a shot in the dark or looking for something good in what isn't there, but that's how I think about Adam, so please let me have this, let me see there's still some good there.

• Adam has a chubby body (like a dad body)

Okay, this one took me a while to think about, because a lot of people draw him thin and we never see him without his tunic, which left me quite confused, but after analyzing some scenes and discovering he was made based on his voice actor (Alex Brightman) I had no more doubts.

In these scenes every time he is squeezed his belly ends up being marked and you can clearly see that he is a little chubby. I know there was that scene with Lilith at the beginning that shows him skinny, but let's face it guys, you can see from his scenes in heaven that he eats a lot, do you really think he wouldn't gain a little weight?

And even Lucifer during the fight in hell against him told Adam that he had really let himself go, kind of like he was different before when he was in the garden of Eden.

Honestly, I don't know why people try to say he's skinny, the fanarts are really beautiful and stuff, but come on, don't you think a chubby Adam would make more sense? I'm not saying this because I love chubby men (I think they're incredibly cute and it makes me want to hug them 😫💗) but I don't know, I just think that with all of his diet, which isn't the best, it made him gain a little weight in the meantime.

• He felt bad about being the only human in heaven

This is because of an art I saw on Pinterest and it made me reflect on it. Like, when he got to heaven he was the only one with human appearance, all other angels and winners (human souls who reach heaven) had different appearances, such as animal appearances, for example Molly, Angel Dust's sister, who is a spider.

So I think he may have made that mask with horns to feel more integrated into that society and less different.

•Adam plays guitar when he's feeling bad (sad, distressed, stuff like that)

I imagine that whenever Adam is feeling sad, distressed or even stressed, he goes somewhere alone and plays his guitar in calm chords expressing what he feels through the melody played, it would be calm notes but full of feelings, his black gloved fingers hitting the strings while all there is in the place are just him, his guitar and his mind, and no one else to see him like that.

I think that whenever he remembers Lilith and Eva's betrayals, he feels at least a little bad, and then playing his guitar stops and takes away all that bad feeling in his chest, even if it just goes away temporarily.

I imagine the following scenario, late afternoon almost dusk as the cotton white clouds take on a yellowish tone as the sun slowly sets bringing the night with it, while the sun brought the night with it, in Adam's chest that bitter feeling grew as memories knocked on the door again, leaving him more moody than usual, making him fly away from the city with his guitar to sit on the golden gates of heaven and as he plays the guitar calmly emptying that feeling from his chest so that the next day he pretends that nothing happened, but he knows, he knows that that will forever be stuck in his mind.

• He's not as popular as he says he is

Going back to that topic I said about him hiding behind a false narcissistic personality and high ego, I think that him being popular is a lie, both sexually and in society, I know, he is the first man and that would make him popular and the fact that he is a guitarist in a band, but think with me, would you like to be in the presence of someone or have relationships with someone who only knows how to curse all the time and talk about himself and how many girls he had sex with over the weekend?

Well, at least I think that everything he says is just stuff to inflate his ego and feel good about himself.

• He likes 80s rock bands

This is just in my head, I feel like Adam would like 80s rock bands like Metallica or Guns N' Roses, maybe even Slipknot, bands in general that have the same type of music that he plays, I also think he enjoys guitar solos like Slash or the solo from the song "Master of puppets".

I also think that his band's style follows the same style as these bands, I don't know, like I said it's just my headcanon.

•Adam has a fear or trauma of apples

This is supposed to be a little funny

This headcanon came to mind when a friend of mine who also knows Hazbin hotel made the joke that Adam is afraid or traumatized by apples because of the whole forbidden fruit of Eden thing and betrayal by Eve.

Imagine, Lute simply eating an apple near him and he freaks out, ripping the apple out of her hands and throwing it away.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

I honestly feel like Adam deserved a chance to change, a chance at redemption, a chance to really be loved and really love, no sex, no divine obligation, just real love.

Well guys that's what I have for now, I'll try to remember more headcanons for a next post, maybe even some +18, but for now that's all I have in my mind.

Thank you so much for reading, kisses in your heart 💗🤘🏻