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elllisaaa · 1 year ago

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how ateez would confess to you

-> words count : 3.7k words

-> genre : ateez members crushing on you

-> warnings : just a lot of sweetness

-> sorry if I made any spelling or grammar mistakes, english is not my first language

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> masterlist | ateez masterlist

KIM HONGJOONG - JEALOUS

he’s the type to be bold. but like REALLY bold.

like he’s not embarrassed at all to check you out when you ask him if your outfit looks good and say “it looks more than good, don’t worry.” with that damn smirk screaming in my pillow.

he’s also very protective - always has his hand on the small of your back when you’re walking in a crowded place, and always gives you his jacket or sweater if you’re cold or feeling uncomfortable.

he has an eye on you wherever you two are going to be sure that you’re safe.

asks you to send him a message so he is sure that you’re home whenever you go out of work, or hang out late without him, or when he can’t walk you home.

that being said, it’s also a fact that this man is possessive.

have you seen him whenever an atiny mentions liking another group, or going to other concerts than theirs ?

he would be the same with you.

but since you’re not yet a couple, he tries to hide it as well as he can.

but jealousy would be his breaking point.

seeing you laugh and joke with some trainee of the agency he didn’t even know the name of really made his blood boil.

his death stare was burning holes in the back of the head of the poor boy you were talking with.

he would approach both of you, and as if the trainee wasn’t already intimidated by hongjoong presence, he was looking at him like he killed someone lmao.

the trainee was almost shaking when hongjoong dragged you away from him under a ridiculous excuse.

“- Joong ! Where are we going ?”

He didn’t answer, jaw clenched and his grip on your wrist almost painful as he brought you to his studio. Hongjoong closed the door behind the two of you, just to have the time to think about the way he was going to explain himself. He always succeeded in controlling himself and mostly his jealousy, but today, he didn’t exactly know why, it was too hard seeing you with someone else, laughing like you should be with only him.

“- Hongjoong ? What’s gotten into you ?”

He took a deep breath. Maybe it was finally the moment to say the truth. It would take a weight out of his shoulder, and he could have an answer to all his questions. Hongjoong turned towards you, a smirk on his lips.

“- You want me to be honest ?”

You simply nobbed, looking at him expectantly, and even if he acted confident, his heart was beating fast.

“- I didn’t like seeing you laugh with another guy. Well, I didn’t like it every other time it happened. But I think today was just too much to bear for me. Because I love you. I want you to be mine, only mine. I want to be the one who makes you laugh like that, and I want you to be the one who makes me laugh. What do you say ?”

The blush creeping on your cheeks as you listened to his words, and watched his grin widened was really noticeable. But your smile was even more telling to him.

“- I say yes.”

“from now on and forever, I won’t let you go. you’re mine.”

PARK SEONGHWA - SAFE

he is literally the sweetest person ever.

the type to text you throughout the day to ask if you have eaten and if your answer is no, expect him to be at your door in 5 minutes, drank or took a break.

so, so caring and always there whenever you need him.

mention that you had a bad day or are a little down ? expect a movie night, your favorite snacks and a lot of cuddles from hwa.

speaking of that, he sometimes always acts as if he was your boyfriend.

not that it’s bothering you, on the contrary, but he still claims to everyone that you two are just best friends.

and that’s confusing because he’s out there holding your hands, putting his arm on your shoulder, cuddling with you.

to be honest, seonghwa has been trying to make things ambiguous between the two of you lately, in hopes that you would take the hint that he likes you.

like that one time he pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and you thought that he was about to kiss you.

so tonight, while he was laying on top of you on your couch, focused on the show playing on the TV, you decided it was time to clarify this situation.

“- Hwa ?”

The man turned his head towards you at the mention of his surname, big doe eyes watching you and waiting for what you wanted to say. You hoped that he couldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating.

“- Can I ask you a question ?

- Yeah, of course.”

Seonghwa’s smile almost made your hands shake, and you came back to playing with his hair to try and hide it.

“- What are we ?”

It was as if the whole world had stopped spinning for Seonghwa. Was it finally happening ? Was this your way of asking him to be more than friends ? He silently prayed for it, closing his eyes for a second to gather his thoughts, and also to escape your piercing gaze that was making him even more nervous than he already was.

“- I’m willing to be whatever you want us to be angel.

- And what do you think of… You being mine, and me being yours ?”

Seonghwa giggled quietly, burying his face in the crook of your neck to hide the red tint on his cheeks. His arms, that circled your waist, tightened their grip, not planning on letting you go anytime soon.

“that’ll be perfect. that’s what i wanted us to be all along.”

JEONG YUNHO - SLEEPY

100% golden retriever energy, you can’t say otherwise i’ll fight.

i don’t know, he just gives this puppy boyfriend vibes, all fluffy and clingy and sweet, he’s just so cute honestly.

the type to always want to hang out, because his love language his quality time.

will make it a ritual to eat with you at least 2 times a week, weekend hangouts where you either simply go shopping or sometimes he plans activities, and movie nights too.

so smiley around you his cheeks hurts when he goes home after spending the day with you.

he gets especially giggly every time you do something a little silly, like when you trip while trying to show him something.

always makes sure you’re alright afterwards though.

to put it in a nutshell, he’s just very cute.

but he finds you even more cute, particularly when you’re all sleepy.

because then you snuggle up to him, seeking his warmth, and you often fall asleep on him, unaware of how much you make his heart flutter.

during your usual movie night, you felt tired and rested on his shoulder.

As Yunho heard your breathing become more regular, he assumed that you were asleep. He was always so glad that you felt safe enough around him to be this vulnerable. And mostly, he got to admire your beautiful face without risking you to catch him. He didn’t know why but tonight, he felt on the verge of telling you. And after all, you were asleep, you couldn’t hear him. He already said it to you a few times like that, what could go wrong ?

“- You’re breathtaking Y/N, really… I love you.”

As Yunho was ready to cover you with a blanket to keep you even more warm, your voice stopped him in his tracks.

“- Can you say it again ? I’m not sure I understood.”

His panicked eyes turned to your fully awake ones, looking at him with a mischievous glint. The poor boy gulped loudly, not knowing if he was going to be in trouble or if you were just messing with him, as you always did.

“- I-I love you, I really do. I just… It was easier telling you when you couldn’t reject me.”

A shy chuckle escaped him as he averted your gaze, missing the smile eating your whole face at his confession.

“- Look at me, big baby.”

And when he eventually did, you finally answered his silent interrogation.

“- I love you too, so much.”

Yunho engulfed you in the biggest hug, already taking advantage of your new relationship.

“I can’t wait to spend every day and every night by your side.”

KANG YEOSANG - PERFECT

he’s not very talkative, in the sense that he’s not always making remarks about what you tell him.

but don’t worry, he got it all written in his head.

it could be the most useless detail about a story that happened to you years ago, and he still will remember it.

because you’re too precious to him to forget anything about you he’s so boyfriend material.

the type to take notice of what you like to eat.

say that you love a certain type of food one time, and you’ll get it every now and then.

he remembers your coffee order from day one.

also a really good listener and give the best advice.

that being said, he’s the type to notice if you looked at something with envy in a shop, or said that you wanted this or that.

and bets that he’ll confess with a little gift that he bought for you.

maybe that’ll be a waste of money if you say no, but he doesn’t care, you’re worth it.

so he’ll buy this necklace you’ve been talking about for weeks, and come to you one day, almost out of the blue to offer it to you.

“- You shouldn’t have, really. That’s too much.

- It’s never too much when it comes to you.”

You were blushing like crazy, as much as from his words and how his fingers brushed against your skin as Yeosang attached the necklace for you. His eyes reflected nothing but love and adoration when he looked at you.

“- You’re beautiful, it suits you perfectly.

- Thank you so much Sangie ! But what is this for ? It’s not my birthday or anything special…”

Yeosang lowered his head for several seconds before mustering the courage to let the words finally spill from his mouth. They were coming out so naturally that it seemed like you were truly made for one another.

“- I wanted to give you this just because you loved it, but also to remind you how much I love you. And I don’t mean it in a friendly way. I like you. And I hope, if you return my feelings, that this necklace is gonna remind you of that everyday.”

Your smile was enough of an answer for him, but you took a step forward, putting your hand on Yeosang’s cheek and making his heart beat faster.

“- I’ll wear it everyday from now on. I must find something for you to wear and remember how much I love you too.”

“let’s get matching ones then, that’ll make us soulmates.”

CHOI SAN - FORCED

now this boy is the most obvious when it comes to crushes.

like all the members could tell that he was down bad for you since the first day.

but you didn’t seem to notice.

however, it was indeed very clear since he looked at you as if you put all the stars in the sky.

really, i don’t understand how you didn’t notice.

beside the fact that he’s literally a simp for you, he’s also been your best friend for several years now, and he knows you like the back of his hand except your undying love for him.

he had always been by your side : when you were sad or happy, when you had your first crush and even when you got drunk for the first time.

the members having obviously noticed how san was struggling to tell you how he felt, they tried to help him multiple times.

to be honest, this was not really efficient but at least they tried.

the latest attempt was at this little party they planned at the dorms, and of course you were invited.

at one point, everyone gathered to play truth or dare, and of course, it was a trick to get you two to confess to each other not very slick, yeah.

“- So San, truth or dare ?

- Truth, I have nothing to hide.”

His confident smile made you chuckle, knowing all his embarrassing secrets and also knowing how much he, in fact, had to hide.

“- Well, then tell us who your crush is.”

The smirk on Yunho’s face made a deep contrast with the defeated one on San face. You felt your own smile flatter as you tried not to look at your best friend. You knew this day would come. Of course San wouldn’t stay with you until your old days. Of course he would find a better partner. You were only his best friend, not his lover.

“- I… Uh-

- I thought you had nothing to hide, Sannie.”

The group laughed collectively at Wooyoung's remark, except you and San. You were almost ready to stand up and leave when your best friend turned to you.

“- Y/N… I really love you.”

Your eyes widened as San ran away immediately. Around you, the members were all whistling and making weird noises. But you didn’t hear them. You only heard San’s words again and again. Quickly after, you followed him to the kitchen. He had to know how much you loved him too. When you found him, he had his head pressed on the fridge, eyes closed and probably overthinking everything he had ever said and done.

“- San…”

He turned to you quickly, worry filling up his gaze.

“- Listen Y/N, I’m really sorry ! I shouldn't have said that in front of everyone, I should’ve kept it for a moment just between us, or never tell you at all in fact. I apologize for making you feel uncomfortable and I’m-

- San, stop.”

You took a step toward him, your smile eating your face.

“- We’ve known each other for years, you’ll never make me uncomfortable. Stop thinking too much, okay ? ‘Cause I love you too, since I don’t even remember when because you’re the most important person in my life.”

No answer came except his lips on yours, and his hand on your waist, pulling you against his body.

“i’ve always known that one day we’ll be together, and that one day i’ll marry you. but let’s keep that for later.”

SONG MINGI - DRUNK

the boy is a stuttering and nervous mess around you.

blushing everytime you smile at him, but denying it if you ever mention it before blushing even more, he’s so cute.

besides the fact he’s so impressed by your charisma and presence, he’s very funny around you.

the type to make the dumbest jokes and put himself in ridiculous situations if that makes you laugh.

because your smile and laugh are the most beautiful things he had ever seen and heard.

it’s so funny to see a big guy like him being so amazed by just one person, you find that really endearing.

but that also means that he’s not brave at all.

like, if he ever tried to just muster up the courage to tell you that he has the biggest crush on you, he would chicken out as soon as he saw you.

and I think that to be able to confess, he would have to take a little liquid courage yes, that means getting drunk.

one night, the boys were celebrating the release of their new comeback with some drinks and mingi asked you to come with them.

and of course, he’ll end up drinking too much, hoping that he would either stop thinking about you or finally telling you how he felt.

“- Y/N !”

Mingi’s scream made you jolt in place and turn around quickly, smiling when you saw him trying to walk straight in your direction, with his rosy cheeks and glossy eyes. He was cute, really cute. But you didn’t expect him to literally throw himself in your arms. You caught him as best as you could, shivering as his breath tickled your neck.

“- Are you alright Mingi ?”

He nodded his head, trying to steady himself and standing straight on his feet again. You looked up at him, preparing yourself to decode his slurred words.

“- Yeah… Yes, I’m alright but I wanted to say something to you… I really, really like you… I mean, like you, not like a friend, I want you to be my lover… Because I love you.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, and Mingi’s heart skipped a beat. His brain was all mushy just from seeing your gaze focused on him and only him, and alcohol wasn’t helping at all in controlling the blush on his cheeks.

“- I like you too Mingi, and I would like to be your lover too. But we’ll talk about this when you’re sober, okay ?”

________________________________________

“- I really said that ?”

You chuckled lightly, caressing his cheeks softly, diving in his mesmerizing, hypnotizing eyes.

“- Yeah, you did. But to be honest, it was very cute. You’re very cute anyway. So, would you like to be my lover Mingi ?”

The boy in question pecked your lips, smiling too.

“that’s not even a question princess. i’ll be by your side as long as you’ll let me stay.”

JUNG WOOYOUNG - IMPULSIVE

i see him as someone very spontaneous.

if he passes by a restaurant he likes, no matter what hour it is or what he has to do, he’ll stop and eat.

if he likes someone, he’s gonna tell them.

that’s what you love about him, and that’s also probably how you met.

he was certainly doing something stupid, as always, and ran into you, making you fall on the floor.

and boom ! you were best friends forever.

he didn’t stop doing ridiculous things, on the contrary since he noticed that you’re in the same mood as him and that it’s making you laugh, he’ll be doing it even more.

but the thing is that wooyoung wants way more than being friends since the first day.

but now that he’s got you in his life, he’s a little (very) afraid of losing you.

so he’s gonna try and hide his feelings as best as he can.

but when he passed by this flower shop, and saw your favourite ones standing outside, he couldn’t help thinking of you.

and that’s how he ended up at your door, with the flowers, trying to calm himself down.

“- Woo ? What are you doing here ?

- I.. Uh… These are for you !”

He handed you the flowers, feeling a blush creeping on his cheeks as you took them hesitatingly. Wooyoung never felt so nervous in his life. Even before his first concert, even before his first fanmeeting. Even with all the stressful events he had experienced being an idol, he never got so anxious.

“- Thank you, I guess ? What are these for ? It’s not my birthday, nor anything special I think.”

You chuckled at your own words, leaving Wooyoung asking himself why he did that.

“- Don’t get me wrong ! I like them, they’re beautiful and I’m surprised you even remembered what my favourite flowers were ! But why ? I don’t understand…”

He thought about letting out all the words he kept for himself for weeks, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. So instead, he leaned in to kiss you. It was not even a peck : he kissed you passionately, like it was the last thing he got to do before dying. You let the flowers fall to the floor, dropping them without any regrets when you tug at Wooyoung’s hair, deepening your kiss. And his smile when you backed out for air told you everything you needed to know.

“i’ll buy you flowers everyday if it means i get to kiss you like this.”

CHOI JONGHO - TEXT

first thing first, this man’s smile could kill you and me, he’s so cute that’s got to be illegal.

the type to value your friendship so much, to the point he prefers to just be your friend than ever risking your relationship if he’s not 100% certain that your feelings are mutual.

his crush developed slowly, falling for you little by little and growing fond of you much more as time passed.

the members noticed how much he liked you when they saw that jongho lets you sleep on his shoulder whenever you are tired.

or when he willingly hugs you every time you need it.

he doesn’t like physical contact but with you, it’s natural and he sincerely appreciates it.

so careful when it comes to his feelings, because he doesn’t want to lose you or upset you.

that’s why i think he would confess through very, very long messages he’ll send late at night.

probably threw his phone away as soon as he did it, not wanting to see your response.

but that’s also why he did it : to let you choose if you wanted to respond or just ignore what he just told you.

so when you called the next day, he panicked.

“- Hi Jongho !

- H-Hi Y/N.”

At least, your tone seemed as cheerful as usually, and not upset or disappointed.

“- I must admit I was really surprised when I saw your texts when I woke up this morning. I was not expecting that at all.

- And… Is it in a bad or a good way ?”

Jongho didn’t want to pressure you, but he needed to know how you felt, needed to know if he should smile or bury himself six feet under.

“- In a good way, don’t worry.”

You clearly heard his sigh of relief, which made you both chuckle at the other end of the phone. And both of you had the biggest smile on your faces.

“- I’ll need at least two hours to even come close to a good answer and I don’t have the time right now. So just listen to that : I like you too, so much you can’t imagine. But if you’re willing to listen to my boring ramble for hours…”

“i love listening to you, I’ll never get tired of it..”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.

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p0orbaby · 3 months ago

Text

Slow Motion Mountain Climber

summary: leah signs up for pilates, what could go wrong?

warnings: none

a/n: based on this request !

word count: 981

Leah texts you on a Tuesday morning, right before your alarm, like she does whenever something has gone terribly wrong in her life. Like when she found out gluten was in soy sauce, or when she discovered she might have to use that godforsaken 6 train in New York. This time, it's a message that reads: Just signed up for Pilates. You may never see me again.

You roll your eyes, groaning at the incoming rant that's sure to follow. Leah's the kind of person who only does new things for one of two reasons: someone dared her, or she's trying to prove to herself that she is still young and can get away with eating three chocolate croissants in a single sitting. You suspect it’s a combination of both. She’s mentioned something about trying to build a "strong core," which you assume is code for "I'm slowly being bullied into this by the fact that all my teammates have six-packs and I have a soft spot for bread."

At 7:45 AM, just as you’re pouring coffee, Leah calls. You pick up on the third ring because you’re not a monster.

“I’m going to die,” she says, without so much as a hello

“Bold start to the day,” you reply. “Anything specific, or is it just a general feeling?”

“Pilates,” she says, and it sounds like a curse word. “Do you know what that is?”

You almost spit out your coffee because, yes, you know what Pilates is. You’re not sure what’s more shocking: that Leah doesn’t know or that she actually followed through on signing up.

“Yeah, Leah, I know what Pilates is”

“Well, it’s hell. No one told me it was this hard. And the instructor—she’s, like, smiling at me while she’s killing me. How are you supposed to trust someone who's trying to make you do something called a 'teaser' while she grins like a lunatic?”

You can picture it now. Leah, in the middle of a room full of people who've been doing this since their nannies signed them up for ballet at age three, contorting herself on a reformer like it’s some kind of medieval torture device. Meanwhile, the instructor—probably named something like Tiffani with an 'i'—is telling her to “engage her core,” as if Leah didn’t already have a job that required her to do that for 90 minutes straight, several times a week.

“Did you die, though?”

“Almost. My legs were shaking. My abs—I didn’t even know I had abs. Why does anyone do this willingly? I’ve literally been fouled by Fran Kirby, and that was less painful”

“Maybe you should stick to yoga”

“Yoga!” Leah scoffs. “I can do yoga. That’s just stretching and pretending you’re one with the universe or whatever”

You let her have that one because there’s no use arguing with someone who once mistook a meditation class for an excuse to nap in public.

Leah continues, “This class, though—it's not natural. They make you put your legs in straps. Straps! Like a harness, but for your feet. And then they expect you to lift them while you're suspended in the air like some sort of flying squirrel”

You’ve taken Pilates before, so you know exactly what she’s talking about, but you can’t help but laugh. Leah, in her infinite wisdom, probably signed up for the most advanced class because, as she said once, “Go big or go home.” Now, she’s paying for it.

“Maybe you should ask to start in a beginner class,” you suggest, knowing full well she won’t.

“Yeah, no. I already told them I’m an athlete. Can’t back down now. But I swear, if one more person tells me to ‘breathe through it,’ I’m going to punch them in the face”

You imagine the looks on the faces of her Pilates classmates as she throws a fit in the middle of a serene, candle-lit studio. You’ve seen Leah frustrated before, but this is a new level of agitation, and it’s all directed at something she willingly signed up for.

“Maybe it’s good for you,” you offer, “builds character”

“Yeah, and scars. On my pride”

You laugh again because you can see where this is going. Leah, who tackles challenges like they’re personal vendettas, is going to keep going back to that class until she can hold a plank longer than anyone else, even if it kills her. Or, more likely, until she finds something else to distract her, like knitting or extreme ironing.

"I’m just saying," she adds, after a pause, "if I end up with a six-pack, it’s because I earned it. None of this ‘strong core’ bullshit. I want abs of steel. Like, I want to be able to crack a walnut between my ribs”

You’re crying with laughter now, imagining Leah doing sit-ups in front of a mirror at home, testing her progress with various hard-shelled nuts.

“Don’t worry, babe,” you say, trying to calm yourself down. “If you do get abs of steel, I’ll make sure to bring walnuts everywhere we go”

“Good,” she replies, and you can hear her finally start to laugh along with you. “You’re on walnut duty. And if this all goes horribly wrong and I never make it out of Pilates alive, just know it was the straps that did me in”

You shake your head, still smiling. “You’ll be fine. But maybe next time, start with a class that doesn’t sound like it was designed by someone who secretly hates people”

Leah sighs dramatically. “Noted. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to spend the rest of the day lying flat on the floor and cursing Joseph Pilates”

“You do that, babe,” you say, hanging up as you imagine her sprawled out on the carpet, texting you updates about how her muscles are rebelling against her. And you can’t wait to read every single one.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #awfc #awfc x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community

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1moreff-creator · 1 month ago

Note

Is there some type of masterpost for all the crazy hidden stuff for Despair Time? like the hidden quotes, the Mai stuff, a comprehensive guide to LGI?

Well, there’s been a few really useful posts over the years. There’s the Secret Quotes, “All you have to do…” Page, Mai Quotes, About Page Text masterpost by despairing-disaster, which I must have visited 15000 times; accirax’s episode guide is a great resource even if it’s not exactly what you asked for; and at the risk of sounding a bit arrogant, I think my Mai post and my full LGI analysis video “A Full Vivisection of the David MV” are good for their respective subject, though they're more analysis than "masterpost". But, for the purposes of having it all in one place, here’s my

DRDT SECRETS MASTERPOST

Spoilers up to and including CH2 EP16

-About Page Text

The source code of DRDT's About Page holds (or held at some point?) the following text:

“You don’t understand, do you? I used to be like you. I barely remember, but I used to be like you. I cared so much about people, I cried everytime someone was hurt. I suffered for a long time stuck in here caring about people." "I know what you’re going through. You’re going to hold on as long as you have, with hope that you can make it out of here with everyone. Then you’re going to despair. That lasts a while, too." Then you’ll get bored. Like me. And you’ll wish you were still suffering. Anything else is better than boredom. "I wish I could feel something, anything else, other than being bored. I’m stuck in here for eternity, and I know everything that could possibly happen. I know how everyone reacts to a murder, what makes people turn to despair, what fills people with hope and make them survive until we all run out of food and starve to death." "I wish I could feel terrified, or afraid, or angry. But I can’t anymore. I don’t feel anything at all except boredom." Do you understand, Teacher? "This is why I’m letting you suffer as long as possible. Because it’s better than the alternative." I’m sorry. I don’t envy you. You’ll understand eventually.

(Note: The quotations marks are placed exactly as they are in the code, but the importance of this is debatable)

-Secret Quotes

Quotes hidden in the source code of each character’s personal page. Ordered here by the order in the cast list.

Teruko: It is an equal failing to trust everybody, and to trust no one at all. Xander: survivor guilt(n): feelings of guilt for having survived a catastrophe in which others died. Charles: If you forgot it, then it probably wasn’t important to begin with. None of those memories should ever be kept, anyway. Ace: I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. Arei: Because that’s what friends do. Rose: In the end, the only thing I can do is watch my wretched life go on. Hu: I want to pay for what I’ve done. But even then, I still want to live. Eden: You can’t go back, no matter how hard you try. Levi: I always believed that a person is defined by their actions alone. But maybe that’s just a poor excuse for my heartlessness. Arturo: You hated them, but even that doesn’t justify what you did. Min: I wanted to save you. David: I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. I wish you could just die. Veronika: Once something is broken, it can never be pieced together in quite the same way again. The same goes for people. J: Please don’t call me your daughter ever again. Whit: We tend to idolize the dead. Nico: Why should I own up for the mistakes that someone else made? MonoTV: Her name is Mai Akasaki.

-"All you have to do..." Page

By using MonoTV's quote to get the name, typing in https://danganronpadespairtime.tumblr.com/maiakasaki into search shows a page with this text:

“All you have to do is ask for my hand, and I’ll give it to you. Ask for my life, and I’ll give it to you as well. Don’t apologize for asking. I’ll give you my forgiveness too.”

(Bolded text highlighted for reading comfort)

Source code hides the following text:

“Are you still searching for a secret? For some explanation that will satisfy you? There’s no answer I can give you that will make you happy. Maybe I should have lied instead. I’m sorry.”

The bolded letters in this page gives you the code AOAVIEPKRO, which when typed in the same way as Mai's name (https://danganronpadespairtime.tumblr.com/AOAVIEPKRO) gives you the linked Mai Akasaki character page (you can also just Google it nowadays).

-Mai Quotes

Entering the Mai page displays, at random, one of the following quotes. The source code gives them an order and relates them to a specific character. Ordered here in the same way the code does it.

Teruko: Some years ago, she was searching for someone named 'Teruko Tawaki.' Charles: A girl who loves her family. Rose: She remembers everything that is important to others. Arturo: A girl who sees the beauty in everyone. Levi: A girl with a floral tattoo on her arm. Whit: A girl with many friends. Eden: She kept calling the number, even though no one picked it up. J: She kept it a secret, and told no one. Hu: A girl who wanted to keep everyone safe. Nico: Everyone confided in her. Ace: A girl who had a bright future. Arei: She doesn't like it when her friends fight. Min: An average girl with nothing special at all about her. Xander: She couldn't stand to do nothing. Veronika: A girl who didn't foresee the consequences. David: She forgives everyone. MonoTV: It's all your fault.

-Second Anniversary Secret Code

There are two columns, one with letters, a dot, apostrophes and spaces, across from the other, with numbers. By rearranging the "rows" in order (1-2-3...), you get "It's all your fault." (Dot included).

-Character Playlist

At one point, dev uploaded a playlist of sixteen songs, where each one was meant to be connected to one of the characters in some way. The playlist has been privated/deleted, so here’s a recreation made by venus-is-thinking. Below are listed the songs in the order they show up in the playlist, although it’s unclear if the order means anything or they’re completely randomized. I find the latter more likely btw.

-Diamond is Unbreakable from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure OST -Sing Along by Sturgill Simpson -RUNAWAY by half•alive -cartoons by Louie Zong -asymptotic by Louie Zong, Unofficial Extended Edit by Axolotl Dreams -アイアルの勘違い (A Mistaken Belief of Love) by Niru Kajitsu, cover by yama -春嵐 (Shunran) by John -イヱスマン (Yesman) by NILFRUITS, covered by Noristry and カケリネ (Kakerine) -アンデッドエネミー (Undead Enemy) by Suzumu and Giga-P, covered by 松下 (Matsushita) -Drawing Pins by Nothing but Thieves -ハイファイ進化論 (Hi-fi Evolution Theory) by 稀雨 ("Rare Rain") and ふぁるすてぃ (Farusti) -tip toes by half•alive -ポリゴナル (Polygonal) by ふぁるすてぃ (Farusti) -Spitfire (05 Version) by The Prodigy -desk rotation by HALLEY LABS -Good Grief by Bastille

******

Literature Girl Insane

Naturally this gets a whole section for itself. That said, I will ask that you watch Vivisection (linked above) for every visual detail, piece of text, color connection theory, language theory... basically everything that wouldn't be considered a puzzle or a code in some way.

-Footnotes

Numbers which appear attached to certain parts of text, which are referenced in the video's description to give them extra meaning. Refer to this post for images of all the footnotes, as well as a first impression analysis.

[Footnote Number] Description Text -> Text it's attached to in the video. [Time of appearance and link] {Notes}

[1] In this situation, it is better to use full names over nicknames. Exclude our protagonist—he is not “that person.” -> Now [1:22] {Crosswords puzzle}

[2] Other examples include Drosophila melanogaster and E. coli. -> an albino mouse, arabidopsis. [3:02]

[3] From Title 17 of the United States Code. -> A “derivative work” is a work based upon one or more preexisting works, such as a translation, musical arrangement, dramatization, fictionalization, motion picture version, sound recording, art reproduction, abridgment, condensation, or any other form in which a work may be recast, transformed, or adapted. A work consisting of editorial revisions, annotations, elaborations, or other modifications which, as a whole, represent an original work of authorship, is a “derivative work”. [2:18] {Tumblr why did you remove yellow you're fucking up my color scheme}

[4] The practice of avoiding the number four; it is most common in East Asia. This superstition arises from the fact that the number four can be read similar to the word “death” in multiple languages. -> subtract 4, due to tetraphobia [1:46]

[5] As the translation has been intentionally botched in many parts, it should not be considered accurate. -> (translation needed) [3:10] {The text is "(translation needed)", not that I need a tanslation :v}

[6] (Prayer) -> 🙏 [2:02] {Extremely small and almost invisible, bottom right of the hands}

[7] Seven is considered an auspicious number in many Western cultures. Let's just skip it. -> Mind [2:41]

[8] ‘Tut, tut, child!’ said the Duchess. ‘Everything's got a moral, if only you can find it.’ -/> N/A. This footnote cannot be found, as it is not in the video. [N/A]

[9] no respect for the classics smh -> So sing a degraded copy [2:07]

[10] The Roman numeral for 10 is X -> X [2:00] {Very small, top right of X}

[11] I admit to lying. There is no one named ••••• •••••. I am, and always have been, an only child -> suspicious gaps [1:32] {Still no idea what the hell is going on here}

[12] “Majority rule” is known to be the fairest method of making decisions for a group. That’s why murderers never complained when we voted for them to die -> Tallying votes… [2:02]

[13] 正 -> correct [2:40] {Refer to "Tally 5" for further information}

[14] Hint: word length of 256 -> = [3:52] {Refer to "Footnote 14 Puzzle" for further information}

[15] “Ignorance is bliss” is an idiom used to say that it is better to remain ignorant about certain harsh truths, in order to avoid causing oneself stress. The expression comes from a 1742 Thomas Gray poem (“Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College"): “Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise.” -> Remaining ignorant, isn't that "happiness"? [1:47] {Again excuse the lack of yellow}

[16] While it was originally intended to serve as a military march, today it is most commonly recognized for its association with circuses and tomfoolery. -> [sheet of music] [2:49] {The song referenced is "Entry of the Gladiators," so it's presumed that's what the sheet shows. I couldn't find an exact match, but online sheets look similar enough}

[17] Not a real word. Can't be found in any dictionary. -> Democratic-ly [2:00]

[18] A/N: soz not very good at drawing flowers lol!!! -> dandelions (weed) [3:04]

[19] A dialogue between two individuals that serves as a discussion of moral and philosophical issues. -> Will you forget what you've done, I wonder? [3:42]

[20] It is considered by many to be outdated, providing little-to-no insight on human nature. -> The Kübler-Ross model postulates that those who experience grief go through a s[] of five consecutive stages: [1:53]

[21] Deriving from the Latin phrase “Et cetera” : meaning “and other (similar) things”, “and so forth”, or “and the rest (of such things)” : abbreviated to etc., etc, et cet., &c. or &c -> etc. [3:48]

[22] The rest is silence. -> [4:21] {This footnote shows up on its own on a black screen, that's why there's no associated text}

-Roman Numerals

The crosswords attached to footnote 1 can be completed in the following way, attaching each character (minus David plus Mai) to a numeral.

Below are all the numerals, listed in numerical order. Refer to this post for images.

[Numeral] [Character] Text it's attached to *Background text* *Other background text* [Time stamp and link] {Notes}

[I] [Xander] (the world of abnormal sentiment dances) *I have always looked up to you* [3:50] {Refer to "Footnote 14 Puzzle" for further information}

[II] [Rose] Ego cogito ergo (turbatus) sum [1:34] {Translation: I think therefore I am (disturbed)}

[III] [Charles] If you doubt brittle things are broken *And now here’s my secret, a very simple secret. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye* [1:37]

[IV] [Arei] Right now, why do you cry? [1:39]

[V] [Ace] Right now, why you go insane? *A cat has 9 additional lives* *I am but mad north-northwest. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.* [1:42]

[VI] [Arturo] mind exercises 1 2 3 4 [2:41]

[VII] [J] Do it like that, let’s live together! *The Moral La[w] causes the people to be in com[plete accord] with their ruler, so that they wi[ll f]ollo[w] [him] regard[less of] their lives, undis[mayed] by any danger* [2:10]

[VIII] [Nico] even if i try to think, idk!!! [2:44]

[IX] [Levi] look, aside from that, give me the usual medicine *[Extract from a scientific paper on Shoemaker-Levy 9]* [2:46]

[X] [Min] Democratic-ly *In the case of a murder, all survivors must participate in a class trial. During this trial, everyone must discuss and vote for one of the remaining participants as the "blackened" murderer* *👈👈* *👉👉* *🙏* [2:00]

[XI] [Mai] God is dead [1:48]

[XII] [Eden] ???: But you're in my way, aren't you? [2:28]

[XIII] [Teruko] or *Only the eyes belied this assumption. They were small, deep set and crafty. Not only that. As the man, making some remark to his young companion, glanced across the room, his gaze stopped on Poirot for a moment, and just for that second there was a strange malevolence, and unnatural tensity in the glance* *Those are the terms. To exchange all the goodness and grace of every life in Omelas for that single, small improvement: to throw away the happiness of thousands for the chance of happiness of one: that would be to let guilt within the walls indeed.* [1:55]

[XIV] [Veronika] Things like substance of the arts *subtract 4, due to tetraphobia* [1:44]

[XV] [Whit] Remaining ignorant, isn't that "happiness"? *subtract 4, due to tetraphobia* [1:46]

[XVI] [Hu] ???: Go and cry. [2:27]

Windings

At 0:35, windings text flashes on screen. It's the beginning of Never Gonna Give you Up by Rick Astley. Yep.

-"What is the most important thing?"

To this day the best answer we have to this is replacing each question mark with the corresponding letter of "RESOLVE." If you find something else, please tell me.

-Bullet-Finding

The MV tells us to find six bullets, but if you look at the top left book, it says "(hint: no you can't)" Here are the five bullets which can be found.

-Morse Code

At the end of LGI, the following Morse code flashes on screen.

-.-- --- ..- / … - .. .-.. .-.. / -… . .-.. .. . …- . -.. / .. -. / -- . / -.. . … .--. .. - . / . …- . .-. -.-- - …. .. -. --. / .. .----. …- . / -.. --- -. . .-.-.-

-… ..- - / - …. .- - .----. … / .--- ..- … - / ..-. .- -. - .- … -.-- --..-- / .. … -. .----. - / .. - ..--..

.. / … .. -- .--. .-.. -.-- / -.-. …. --- … . / - --- / -… . .-.. .. . …- . / - …. .- - / -.-- --- ..- / -.. .. -.. .-.-.-

.- ..-. - . .-. / .- .-.. .-.. --..-- / .. .----. -- / .. -. -.-. .- .--. .- -… .-.. . / --- ..-. / -… . .. -. --. / … --- -- . --- -. . / .-- .. - …. --- ..- - / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.-

Which translates to:

YOU STILL BELIEVED IN ME DESPITE EVERYTHING I’VE DONE.

BUT THAT’S JUST FANTASY, ISN’T IT?

I SIMPLY CHOSE TO BELIEVE THAT YOU DID.

AFTER ALL, I’M INCAPABLE OF BEING SOMEONE WITHOUT YOU.

-Footnote 14 Puzzle

(Solved by y-prime) (Apologies if I get any of the technicalities wrong, I'm not good with codes)

After Numeral I flashes on screen, you get a bunch of numbers, followed by an ampersand (&), more numbers, an equal symbol (=) attached to footnote 14, and a bunch of question marks. Footnote 14 is "Hint: word length of 256," and 256 is 2^8, which is 8 bits in binary. This tells us we need to get a binary code using the bitwise AND (&). If you're uninformed, I was too, but basically, & first transforms decimal numbers into 5 digit binary, giving the next values:

14631484268173741020143036451175923368636278930404923743082436772069705217326 -> 10000001011001001000000110101001101001011101100110010110101000111100010110110001110111011000010111100111110011001000001110110011101111011011110110101101100101011101000010100001110101011101000010000101111100111011110011000011111001111111110111010100101110

43607886503718811525798764321686495628071353085956330717581498375291444100526 -> 110000001101001001100000110100001100001011101110110010100100000011010010110110001111111011000010111100101110011011100100110110101101111011011110110101101110101011001110010000101111101011100000010100001110100011011110110000001111001011011110111110110101110

Note: The second value is actually 255 digits long in binary, the first is 254 (don't- do not ask me how this happens, it's what the decoder gave me). Arbitrarily, you have to delete the first 1 from the second value.

Then, & compares each number in the binary, and returns 0 if at least one of the values is 0, or 1 if both values are 1. This gives you:

10000001001001001000000110100001100001011101100110010100100000011000010110110001110111011000010111100101110011001000000110110001101111011011110110101101100101011001000010000001110101011100000010000001110100011011110010000001111001011011110111010100101110

Which is 254 characters, you need 256. Arbitrarily, add two 0s at the beginning of that final code. When converted from 8 digit binary to text, you get "I have always looked up to you."

(I hope you appreciate the detailed explanation it took me hours to figure out what y-prime did they're so much better at this than me T_T)

-Tally 5

(Originally solved, to my knowledge, by anderscim)

Although originally we weren't meant to share the solution, I think over a full year after the video, with Part 2 fully out, the embargo is surely over by now.

On the books in LGI, there is a QR code which takes you to https://danganronpadespairtime.tumblr.com/tally5. This page has only a text box where you can input text, and a title asking "Was I correct?"

The "Was I correct?" connects this to the "correct/incorrect" scene attached to footnote 13, which itself is 正, a Chinese symbol which can mean "just" or "correct." Additionally, this is a way that people in eastern countries tally up sets of five, the way you might see someone use something like 卌, which connects it to the infamous "tally5" URL.

Transcribe the text, and separate it in sets of up to five characters (hence the whole "tally 5" thing), and ignore line breaks (the end of line two has four at the end, completed by the d in row three. I more or less followed the line breaks for visual clarity). Pick the first number of each set, as highlighted below.

3aqxw 97pkt c8uki 458fb dpfoa cllex 2f07b f8mg2 4b4mp fx2a(d) c6v3f 5yhxj d8i7s f1l31 2zaj5 1azet 47jod 5jcze c5mvb 6bz2o 59r14 3sf2p e916s czen7 emvbl 55ehe 9iqb2 708tt 83482 c8tw3 c77gn 47ojc a634g bcfz0 0l6s6 47wwl akcn4 6bre1 e0eam 9

Provided you've done everything correctly, you should get39c4dc2f4fc5df2145c653ece5978cc4ab04a6e9. Put that in the "Was I correct?" text box and you get the following image (you will most likely only see the top part, but copying the image and pasting it elsewhere shows the text at the bottom as well):

I became a villain in pursuit of your dream.

I threw away my humanity for an ideal I couldn't understand.

But I don't regret it. To "regret" is to imply that I could have done anything else.

I never told you, but the truth is, I wasn't capable of ever becoming human in the first place.

So in the end, you are always-

****

-Notable Visual Details

This part is mostly subjective. If you feel something shouldn't be here or I missed something, it's because these are just the details I personally consider noteworthy, or I forgot to add something (I'm open to suggestions here). Also I'm ignoring LGI in this section otherwise I would need 15000 screenshots.

+Fork Fun

(From left to right: Pre-prologue scene of bloody hands, Xander's eye wound from the Trial 1 investigation, Eden CG from CH2 Ep13. The first shows a bloody fork on the table, Xander's eye wound is consistent with a slash of a fork, and Eden's hand is bloody, holding a fork)

+Teruko's Mystery Voter

(Voting results in each trial so far. Teruko received two votes in T1, and one in T2)

+Camellias (Unnamed Classmate and Mai connection)

(Left: Mai profile, her tattoo. Right: Bonus episode 2. Same flowers)

+Matching tattoo? (Teruko and Mai)

(Left: CH2 EP2 Teruko changing, a small black line can be seen on her left arm, similar to the stems of the flowers of Mai's tattoo. Right: Jacket off reference, a question mark is shown besides Teruko's left arm)

+Matching phone charms (Teruko and Mai)

(Left: Teruko's Monopad, CH2 Ep1. Right: Unnamed Classmate's phone, from Bonus Episode 1)

+Drawing on Teruko's Floor

(A drawing which appears on the floor of Teruko's room in CH2 EP3, and disappears in CH2 EP7)

+Whit's Hand Behind the Back.

(After the cast learns the elevator won't open after Levi gets shot, Whit pulls out his unhinged sprite, where he has his hand behind his back. Personally I don't find this important, but I'll feel stupid if it is and I didn't add it, so)

+Thanatophobia: Names on the graves.

(From left to right: "Elliot Cuevas", "Felicity Giles", "Taylor Riley." I promise it's easier to see when Tumblr doesn't compress the images. This is the main series way we get the names of Charles' brother, Arturo's sister, and Ace's old friend)

+(AltDRDT) Teacher's ID Card

(Transcript: "This ID card is the property of Hope’s Peak Academy. Use of this ID card by any person other than the rightful holder is prohibited. Report lost or stolen ID cards by contacted 555-483-7367.")

+(AltDRDT) XF and Min's matching pin.

(Yep, matching tie pin. Btw, Min doesn't have it in her Bonus Episode or the Sleepy MV. Did she only get this at the start of the killing game?)

-Potentially Important Posts

Nothing "secret," per say, but a compilation of some of the posts the dev has made which I consider to contain important information.

-CH1 QnA.

-Bonus Episode QnA.

-2 Year Anniversary (Already mentioned).

-Jacket off Reference (Already mentioned).

-CH2 PT1 QnA. Note: Certain answers were deleted. Here's a reblog with some of them, and below is a screenshot of a particularly interesting answer which was not saved by any reblog.

-Teruko's Brother Back Reveal (4 year anniversary).

---

That's everything I currently remember for now. If you feel I missed anything, feel free to tell me about it! I'll try to edit this post to remain up-to-date with all the insane stuff in this series.

Anyways, hope that's enough for the ask! Thanks for giving me an excuse to make this!

#drdt #danganronpa despair time #ask

157 notes · View notes

trippinsorrows · 4 months ago

Text

looking through your eyes + six

authors note: i really like how this one came out. hope you guys do too.

i use some psych terminology, so just as a lil glossary: pt=patient, dx=diagnosis, hx =history, fx=functioning status (mental stability, essentially) and hopefully everyone can understand the rest with context clues.

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

cw/tw: fluff, language, medical report following suicide attempt, discussion of sexual abuse, mention of torture

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

words: 10k (i don't know how to write short chapters, clearly)

The last thing Solana expected to wake up to is a handwritten note left for her in the same journal she deposited on Roman’s bed despite her better judgment. She was filled to the brim with anxiety regarding that bold decision, asking him to do something she’s certain is miles outside of his comfort zone.

She expected him to ignore her.

What she didn’t expect was for him to reply.

Reading over his words, Solana struggles with the ease of his acquiescence. He indicated it could be short term, but she’ll take that, because it’s a hell of a lot easier for her to talk to this man if it’s through written word.

And the last part.

There’s nothing you can’t tell me.

There’s actually a lot she can’t tell him. A lot he can never know. No one can know, but the sentiment behind it…..it has her puzzled. He has her puzzled.

Solana grabs the journal and scans the kitchen for a pen when a thought crosses her mind. She bites down on her bottom lip, forever battling with the idea of something vs the actuality of carrying out the plan.

In a plot twist, she sides with the plan and pulls out her phone, searching for Roman’s contact.

She types, deletes, and does so again at least three times before settling on a text that really could have been conjured and sent in seconds vs the solid ten minutes she takes to issue it out.

Solana: Hi. Thank you. Do you think we could text too? I know that writing is my thing, but I can text if that’s easier for you too….thanks.

Solana nearly tosses her cell phone on the large slab that is his granite kitchen island and moves around to figure out what she’s going to fix for breakfast. The perfect excuse for her to not think about the knots in her stomach at her message. It doesn’t stop the overthinking though.

What if she’s asking too much? Pushing him too far out of his comfort zone? It doesn’t take long for her to regret her decision, wishing it was still within the time limits to unsend her message.

And then her phone dings.

Solana nearly drops the egg she was about to crack over the skillet. Swallowing, she places it back in the bowel as her feet slowly carry her to the phone that has now dinged a second time. Her fingers dance against the sides of her pants, stretching and scratching the cotton.

Lifting her phone, she unlocks her phone and heads straight to his thread.

Roman: Yes.

It’s a simple response that makes sense for him and is beneficial for Solana who sighs in relief at his agreement. She stews on how to respond, eventually settling on a simple thank you as well as answering his question. The least she can do.

Solana: Thank you…

Solana: And I don’t work this weekend.

Solana: Can I ask you something?

Solana again starts chewing on her bottom lip as she mentally berates herself for bombarding him with messages when he’s probably in the middle of working.

But even so, that doesn’t stop him from replying almost instantly.

Roman: You don’t have to ask if you can ask me something, Solana. Just ask.

It’s hard not to imagine the frustration on his face at answering her question while also having to remind her of what he’s already stated at one point or another.

Solana: Okay…

Solana: Where are we going?

She’s unsure if he will respond and has accepted that he may not, which is okay with her. He’s already being more responsive than she initially anticipated he would. And Solana is barely able to put the skillet on the fire before her phone is buzzing again.

Roman: You’ll see.

His answer makes her frown. It’s not what she wanted to hear, but it’s also not a complete disregard or verbal lashing for asking a simple question.

Solana prepares to leave it as is when Roman’s voice is in the back of her mind, nudging and reminding her of his desire for her to communicate with him more.

Nervous fingers type out an expression of said nerves.

Solana: Okay….surprises just make me nervous.

She doesn’t have time to put her phone down when those three dots appear, indicating he’s typing.

Roman: It’s nothing bad.

Roman: I wouldn’t lie to you.

And for some strange reason, Solana believes that. Roman doesn't seem like a man to lie in general, because he’s too blunt for that.

Unless….

Unless it’s one of his mind games, because he is notorious for that. Still, she can’t find a reason why he would waste his time playing one of those with her.

Solana: Okay. Sorry to text you while you’re working.

Roman: You’re apologizing again.

Roman: And I don’t care.

Roman: I’d rather talk to you than listen to the twins bullshit.

Solana tries to not put too much into his words, into him saying that he wants to talk to her. It’s not that he directly wants to speak to her, more she’s the lesser of two evils. Nothing to get into her head about.

Solana: They’re kinda funny….🙈

Roman: You’d feel differently if you had to deal with them all the time.

Solana: Fair.

The exchange is so in the moment, back to back, that she doesn’t put her phone down again until her last message. She then returns to preparing her breakfast.

Solana is frying her eggs, adding in seasoning when her phone dings again. Wiping her hands on her apron, she expects a message from Bayley or even Naomi.

Especially Naomi. She needs to talk to her about what happened, apologize for putting her in what must have been an awkward situation.

It’s neither of them.

Roman: How’d you start writing?

Roman continuing or prolonging the conversation isn’t something she saw coming. But, the message is right there in white writing against that gray background.

Solana briefly debates how honest to be in her answer, deciding to step a bit out of her comfort zone in offering more than just her usual three to five word responses.

Solana: My mom. She spoke English, but she wasn’t fluent, so she’d write letters to me in Spanish, and I’d have to respond in English so we both could learn.

Solana: My dad wouldn’t let her teach or speak it around me and Wes so that was the only way I/she could learn.

He stops replying after that, and Solana feels stupid for being so open, for not just giving him a simple answer with all of the unnecessary verbiage.

And then her phone goes off.

Roman: Not surprising.

When he doesn’t say anything else, Solana debates on whether to end it there or follow up with another question given that he asked one first. It feels like returning the favor or reciprocating manners.

Hence, she decides on texting him again.

Solana: What is that language you speak to the twins sometimes?

Roman: Samoan. I’m fluent. Italian and English as well.

That’s not entirely surprising. Roman is obviously a well educated, well rounded man.

Roman: You’re more perceptive than you let off.

Solana: Maybe. But no one ever cares what I have to say or think, so it doesn’t make sense to share it.

He stops replying after that.

And Solana tries to not think too much about her disappointment, moving around the kitchen to finish fixing breakfast as a distraction.

A poor distraction, because not even twenty minutes later, she’s ready to check her phone again even if it hasn’t made the special sound that makes her belly flutter. However, the sound of the doorbell pulls her from that premature excitement.

Solo comes to meet her in the kitchen informing matter-of-factly, “it’s Naomi and Bayley.”

Solana stills. That’s definitely not someone she expected to see so soon. Neither of them.

“Invite them in?” Solo’s voice tinges with borderline irritation, which she can understand.

Cheeks reddening, she apologizes. “Yes. Sorry. Of—of course.”

Solana hears Bayley before she sees her. “Damn. This is how it’s like to live as the Tribal Chief's wife? Maybe shit isn’t so bad after all.” The two walking in wearing friendly smiles brings back Solana’s grin.

“Hey there. We wanted to come check on you.” Naomi introduces, the first to ask, “is it okay if we hug you?”

Solana doesn’t hesitate as much as she would expect herself to. “Yes.”

Naomi also doesn’t hesitate and steps forward, hugging Solana in such a sincere way she’s not sure she’s experienced in years. Since her mom.

And Bayley does the same, maybe even a little tighter.

The three of them sit down at the kitchen island as Bayley asks in a sympathetic tone. “How you doing, lady?”

“Better.” It’s an honest answer, and Solana can’t help but think about the additive that it’s largely due to Roman. But, she keeps that part to herself. She looks at Naomi. “I’m so sorry—“

Naomi lifts a manicured finger to silence her. “Girl, you have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I’m sorry I didn’t know what was going on. You could have told me too, but I get it must have been hard for you.”

This part had Solana deeply nervous, the part where she’d have to ‘face’ Naomi after causing such a scene and getting the whole place shut down for an entire day, So, for the woman with the penchant for bold colors that look delightful against her complexion to be so understanding and empathetic, it means a lot to Solana.

It means a lot that Bayley would also even tag along when she wasn’t even part of that chaotic ordeal.

“Just know you can tell us anything. We’ve got your back,” Bayley affirms, adding with a smirk. “And clearly your big bad husband does too.”

We’ve got your back.

Solana doesn’t even know where to begin comprehending and swallowing that.

Thankfully, she doesn’t have too long to be in her head, because Naomi starts talking again. “That was wild,” she comments with a shake of her head and then looks at Solana. “Oh shit, you probably don’t know, do you?”

Solana’s stomach does the opposite of butterflies, the uncomfortable clenching and twisting that accompanies anxiety. “Know what?”

There’s no delay with the answer.

“Theory and Waller are dead.” Solana wasn’t sure what to expect to hear Naomi say, but even if she tried to guess, that would have never been one of her options.

Confusion is painted all over her face. “Wha—what?”

Dead.

The two men who just yesterday caused her to breakdown and revert back to her teenage years where dissociation was her coping mechanism, the men who’d been sexually harassing her with zero regards for her as a human and even more, as Roman’s wife….are dead.

It feels almost impossible to be true.

Bayley backs up Naomi’s assertion, adding, “yeah, he had their bodies, or what was left, displayed at the Warehouse this morning.”

Chills travel up her spine. “W–why?”

It’a a word aimed towards a lot of the questions Solana has unanswered. Why are they dead? Why did Roman kill or have them killed? Sure, she expected there to be some form of punishment, merely for the simple fact that messing with her was a clear sign of disrespect toward him, which the Tribal Chief would never tolerate. But, for them to be killed, in such a what sounds like a gruesome manner, and their remains to be left for all to see?

Why?

Bayley answers with a shrug of her shoulders. “To send a message.”

Solana is surprisingly fast with her follow up. “W-what message?”

Naomi is quick with the answer, but in general, she seems to be knowledgeable about a lot of things Bloodline. “You’re Bloodline now. No one messes with us. And you’re Roman’s wife? Yeah, he’s making sure everyone knows what happens if they even think about fucking with you.”

It lines up, Solana reflecting back on Roman’s departing declaration the night before.

“I told you. No one lays a hand on you. I’m gonna make sure everyone understands that shit from here on out.”

She just never expected such a….big message.

“Honestly, they were fucking creeps anyway.” Solana cannot and does not disagree with the first part of Bayley’s statement, the second part, however, is iffy for her. “They got exactly what they deserved.”

Solana neither agrees or disagrees with that.

“I’m thinking we do your training from here for a little while,” Naomi suggests. While her initial response is to apologize for any inconvenience this may cause Naomi, Solana can’t deny the fact that just the thought of walking back in that building right now makes her physically ill. “I know Roman got a state of the art gym here and that massive backyard of yalls? This will do just fine.”

“Oooh, I gotta see this.” Bayley then asks, “Solana, are you working today?”

“No, I called out.” Solana needs at least a day to get her mind right, hence taking today off.

Bayley then suggests, “Naomi and I were gonna go shopping. Why don’t you come with us?”

It's an interestingly timed question given one of Solana’s text exchanges with Roman not even an hour ago included him informing her that the stack of envelopes on the kitchen island earlier were her new set of cards, all linked to his accounts.

And he made sure to reiterate again that there is no limit. For any of them.

Bayley then decides and declares, slapping her hand on the island. “Matter of fact, we’re not asking. We’re telling you that you’re going shopping with us.” That is something Solana is familiar with, never being asked, always being told.

It’s just rare, if ever, it’s something that isn't entirely bad or terrible she’s being told she needs to do.

“I’ve been wanting to take you shopping for forever anyway. Because as sweet and great as you are, Solana, you dress like college freshman meets Billie Eilish.” Before Solana can ask what exactly that means, Naomi explains. “So much neutral and dark colors. And everything is oversized. I can tell you’re kind of insecure about your body, but you literally have no reason to be because you have an amazing shape.”

Solana doesn’t say anything, but her hand naturally goes to one of the scars on her arm from that night.

Naomi notices this and advises in a gentle voice, “we all have scars, Solana. Some you can see and others you don’t.” Solana has both, and it’s a miserable experience. “That doesn’t mean you have to hide them and be ashamed.”

“Naomi is right.” Bayley agrees, and something tells Solana she’s going out shopping today whether she wants to or not. “We are going to help you learn to embrace your curves one better fashionable choice at a time.”

________

Solana can probably count on one hand how many times she’s gone shopping in person over the past couple years. Maybe longer. She mostly sticks to online shopping when she is in need of a couple new pieces, always sizing way up so she can assure that it fits. More so drapes over her body, but that’s always been the preference.

She’s also never shopped at stores where the price for a single item can be upwards to three to four figures, which apparently isn’t the case for Bayley and Naomi.

Cause one of the first items they pick up for her is a single blouse that reads $650.00 on the price tag. Solana nearly faints when she reads that. That’s probably the entire cost of her wardrobe put together.

She’s starting to regret telling them about Roman adding her to his accounts. Naomi especially seemed thrilled at that, and she seems to be the one piling the cart with more and more items. Bayley also offering her fair share of contributions.

All the while Solo keeps a safe but comfortable distance, wearing that infamous stoic expression, Solana can’t help but wonder how he must be feeling about this, about having to spend his time watching her while she shops. It can’t be enjoyable for him at all. She feels sort of bad.

“Oh my god, you have to try this on.”

Feeling bad for someone else morphs into feeling bad for herself, to a certain extent, when Solana sees the dress that Naomi is holding up for her.

In all interactions, Solana does her best to be polite and kind, to never invite a volatile or mean response. “Ummm, I don’t—I don’t think that’ll look good on me.”

It won’t look good for a lot of reasons, the main one being it’s too small. Solana can see the thin sleeved dress is intended to be form-fitting—another major red flag—but even with that, it’s obviously a size, or eight, too small.

Naomi makes a sound. “Girl, that’s just how it looks. It molds to your shape, and with all your curves, I know it’s going to be a killer look.” She then pushes it in Solana’s direction again. “At least try it on. You never know unless you try.”

But Solana does know. She knows this dress is going to draw attention to all of her flaws. The rolls, the pudge of her belly, her big arms, and those damn scars. But, she also doesn’t want to be rude, so she agrees, disappearing in the dressing room before emerging a couple minutes later, never once checking her reflection before doing so.

She walks to where the ladies are waiting, asking with an awkward shrug of her shoulders, “well?”

Naomi gasps. “Holy shit, that looks amazing on you, Solana!”

“Of course it does. You see that body?” Bayley joins in on gassing her up, adding, “it really does look good, Solana. We wouldn't lie to you.”

Huh. That’s the second time today Solana has been told that.

Bayley then instructs her to look at her reflection in the full body mirror of the dressing room, a dreaded task but one she makes herself complete.

Solana does her best to try to be as neutral and not negative towards her appearance, but it’s hard when she keeps honing in on the scars on her arms, the one on her face, not to mention her weight and how, to her, it just seems too much.

Her father’s sharp and consistent criticism starts to return to the forefront of her mind when she notices Naomi snap a photo. Turning on her heel, she asks with a level of nervousness, “w–what are you doing?”

“Helping you to realize how bad as hell you are.” Naomi says it so casually, so calmly, turning her phone toward Solana. “See.”

It’s a thread, a group chat, and along with the picture Naomi just snapped, there’s an accompanying text.

Naomi: Solana is being stupid and thinks she looks bad in this dress. Please prove me and Bayley’s point.

Solana’s eyes go wide when she realizes just who is in this group text. Jimmy, Jey, and Roman.

Her stomach is twisting all over again. “Naomi, I—I don’t think—”

Naomi’s phone chimes, and a smile grows on her face as Bayley moves closer to Solana.

Naomi starts laughing and then smirks as she flips it so Solana and Bayley can read. “I rest my case.”

Jey: Damn, Soso 👀 Hell yeah, she look good. Goddamn! 😫

Jimmy: I GYAT to start coming over to ya’ll house more, Uce. 🍑

Bayley makes a wolf sound, playfully shoving Solana whose cheeks are reddening by the second after reading the surprising response from the twins. She definitely either expected no response or an either kind or unkind disagreement. “We told you, girl. You look amazing.” Bayley then comments, directing her statement to Naomi. “Man, you and Jimmy definitely have a strong ass relationship, cause I’d be ready to kick his ass.”

Naomi shrugs, simply responding. “We trust each other. I know it stops at just looking for him. Same for me.”

Her phone makes a sound, and she reads whatever the latest incoming messages are, instantly rolling her eyes. “Roman is such an ass sometimes.”

Solana’s ear perks up at the mention of his name as she asks, “what did he say?”

Naomi turns her phone again so Solana can read for herself, her stomach twisting with anxiety when she reads his trenchant reply.

Roman: Shut the fuck up.

Roman: Unsend this shit, Naomi. Now.

But before Solana can panic about his response, her phone dings and she pulls it out to see his name on her lockscreen. Instead of delaying the inevitable, she unlocks to read his response, anticipating the worst.

Roman: You look good.

Roman: But you always look good.

Solana has to read his text a couple of times before it actually registers. He thinks she looks good. Roman thinks she looks good. Even more, he thinks she always looks good. Solana doesn’t know how to take that, even though there really is only one way to take such a message.

Bayley and Naomi being the bit of nosy Nancy’s that they are, sneak a peek at Solana’s phone and also read his text. Bayley is the first to speak, displaying that knowing dimpled smile. “Ha! See. The Tribal Chief himself has spoken.”

Naomi and her share a laugh as Solana finds herself also with a small smile. Roman had told her the night of WarGames that she looked beautiful, and she hadn’t really known how to take that either, chalking it up to the face full of makeup and fancy updo.

But this photo Naomi snapped and sent shows her without a lick of makeup on, hair messily pulled back and out of the way. It’s literally just her in a dress, a dress she normally would never dare to brave, but something Roman apparently thinks she looks good in.

“Does…..does he really think I’m beautiful?” It’s a question she never intended to leave the safe confines of her mind, but it’s a rebel, sneaking its way out and landing on the doorstep of the two women before her.

Bayley, as per usual, is the first to speak. “Is that a serious question? Of course he thinks you’re beautiful, because you are. You’re absolutely stunning, Solana. You have to see that.”

“Most of the men at your wedding kept commenting on how pretty you are. And your boobs, of course, because men have no couth.” Naomi rolls her eyes but continues. “And as someone who has had the displeasure of knowing Roman literally since we were in elementary school, I can tell you that you’re 1000% his type.”

Solana doesn’t believe that Naomi has reason to lie to her. Bayley either. And as Naomi has been around the family for so long, her word has to be true. But, Solana has a hard time separating the fact that Roman, who has someone as beautiful and unflawed like Samantha, in the same vein, could think someone like her is beautiful.

Samantha is beautiful, and someone he can actually touch.

Because regardless of how he views her, it all comes down to that. Physical intimacy. One of many things that Solana can’t give him.

But Samantha can.

Samantha does.

That’s why she was in the house that day, doing what Solana should but can’t because she’s too fucked up, too damaged, too broken.

Bayley reaches over with a comforting hand, switching to Spanish. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, don’t. You’re beautiful, Solana. That’s it. Nothing more. Nothing less. Fuck anyone who’s ever said different.”

Solana isn’t quite sure how to describe how grateful she feels in this moment, to have such support, to have people be so genuinely and sincerely supportive. She hasn’t had that in so long, she’d almost forgotten that it was possible.

Emotion thick, she responds in the same language, “thank you, Bayley.”

“Okay, now that’s just not fair. I wanna know what’s going on too.” Naomi’s protest and almost childlike pout makes Solana smile, a nice break from the heavy emotional experience going on in her head.

“Just some girls supporting girls shit.” Bayley shrugs and claps her hands together. “Okay, now let’s see what sexy little red pieces we can find for you….”

________

Texting and writing with Roman on and off for the rest of the week was never on Solana’s agenda, but it’s exactly what’s been happening.

And she has no idea what to make of it.

Every time there’s a delay with his response, she assumes that’s it. That’s the end of the conversation. Only for her phone to buzz with not only a response but usually a follow up question.

It’s almost as if he wants to keep the conversation going, but that can’t be it. She can’t see why he’d want to speak with her.

Even if he literally stated that he’d prefer to talk to her than listen to his cousins bicker. Still, his entire day can’t involve their presence. There has to be some separation at one point or another.

But even with that, he’s consistent with eventually replying, acknowledging her messages even if the responses come hours after her first one was sent.

And for the life of her, Solana cannot find a good or logical reason as to why her stomach flutters with a modicum to medium level of excitement every time her phone dings.

Because she thinks it’s another text from Roman.

Because she’s enjoying speaking with him. Because she seeks out opportunities even while working to check her phone and see if he’s text her. It’s not traditional communication, and she’s certain there’s no way in hell she’d be able to talk to him this freely, this comfortably if it was verbal.

Not a chance.

But in texting, she finds a level of ease that makes it significantly easier to get to know him. And maybe that’s what it is, she has some level of desire to get to know him more. If this “marriage” is to last, whatever that looks like, it feels like she needs to know more about him other than that he’s big, strong, and a killer.

Those traits more than speak for themselves, but there’s gotta be more, and there is. Like her now knowing he speaks three languages fluently and would like to pick up another someday if he ever has the time. Or that he works out at least twice every day and doesn’t feel right if he can’t get in at least one workout.

Similarly, Solana finds herself reciprocating his sharing of information, small facts that aren’t major but make a smidge of difference. Like her love of books and words. The few shows she enjoys. She especially doesn’t understand where that comes from. The sharing on her end. It’s something similar like her growing relationships with Bayley and Naomi.

But that’s different, so so different, for a variety of reasons. One, they’re women, and while anxiety is something she struggles with in interactions with all individuals, regardless of sex, it’s much easier with them than men.

And Roman is not the average man, far from it.

He scares her.

Or does he?

Solana has been struggling to make sense of the fear that often cripples her and the behavior he’s shown her thus far. They don’t add up. Sure, he’s expressed irritation and a level of anger towards her, but both were more than warranted. And even in those moments, there was still a level of control and composure. He didn’t scream at her. Didn’t belittle her. Didn’t hit her.

And his words from earlier that week circle back around to the front of her mind.

Even that day at her job.

He’s made it clear now two times that he has no plans or desire to ever hit her. Initially, that didn’t mean anything to Solana, because she’s never known a man in her life to never beat on her. The second time, it made her start to wonder if he was telling the truth.

And now, in a week of genuine and okay interactions, maybe even good interactions, that wondering of the truth is gradually meshing into believing.

Especially because something tells her Roman’s not a man to lie, not unless he’s playing one of his infamous mind games. And what reason would he have to play a mind game with her of all people?

She’s nobody.

But not enough of a nobody for him to end the conversation, which she’s expected all week but yet to see happen. Even more, a part of Solana feels like he’s also wanting to keep the conversation going, matching her with the questions vs just responding and leaving it as is.

And Solana appreciates it a lot, maybe even to the point where she’s gradually starting to appreciate him.

If she doesn’t already.

It’s why she doesn’t mind waking up earlier than she already does to fix breakfast and get ready for work to do something for him that she hopes he views as nice while he gets in his morning workout in the home gym.

Finished and almost too nervous to stay around for his response, she grabs the notebook, leaving a quick message before heading up the stairs to get in at least another hour of sleep as there’s still leftovers from yesterday’s breakfast.

Roman,

I noticed you tend to start off your breakfast with a protein shake. I saw how you make it, so I figured I’d just make it for you. Less for you to do.

Hope that was alright.

Solana

________

Roman didn’t plan to text and write Solana as often as he has. It just…..happened.

She was right in that communication does seem smoother and even easier through this channel. It’s also nice to “hear” her communicate without all that damn stuttering and stammering. Her texts and letters read so much better than actually listening to her speak aloud.

Not that her voice isn’t pleasing to some extent. It is. Soft and almost melodic, minus the fucking stutters.

Roman is in the middle of reviewing income spreadsheets when Jimmy walks into his office and

drops a stack of paperwork on top of Roman’s desk. He then plops down in one of two chairs opposite his cousin. “Solana’s medical records.”

Roman is pleased, thankful to the Wise Man for his promptness regarding his request.

“There is something you should know though.”

Instantly, Roman is annoyed, because he recognizes that tone of Jimmy’s. The tone that lets Roman know he’s not going to like what he’s about to hear. “What?”

“Apparently, information is missing.”

“What do you mean it’s missing? Find the fucking hospital that has them. I want all of her records.” Roman’s orders were clear as day, and he fucking hates when even with comprehensible issuance, there’s still a fucking problem.

“That’s all that’s available. Paul said the records indicate shit was deleted or something. Like cleared out of the system.” Before Roman can express his dissatisfaction and suggestions, Jimmy explains, “He said he consulted with Pearce to see if he could retrieve the files, but even he couldn’t get them. Something about systems changing over time and not being compatible. You know, all that tech shit Pearce be talking.”

Roman was right. As always. He’s annoyed.

Because he knows exactly who would have had a hand in something like this.

Xavier.

He expresses as such. “It was Xavier. Son of a bitch probably had it deleted somehow.” Roman knows Miller has hands and ties in the medical community as well as social services, though that power and leverage has definitely dwindled over the years due to Miller’s mounting financial problems. However, around the time Solana was a kid was very much the peak of Miller’s paltry empire.

“What exactly are you looking for, man?” Jimmy asks, trying to get a read on his cousin, never an easy feat. If at all possible. “I’m not trying to be mean, but it’s obvious Solana been through some shit. You really need to know all of it?”

It’s a sound question that Roman isn’t certain he has the answer for. Knowing just what Solana has been through could be helpful in helping him understand her better, but there’s also a part of him that doesn’t know why he’s even bothering with that. Why does he even need to understand her better?

“I mean, just what happened to her mom could be the reason for a lot of her….struggles.”

“That’s part of it.” Roman’s certain of that, but he also knows there’s more. “Her father and brother were abusive.”

At that, Jimmy appears shocked. “What?” His expression quickly turns into a scowl. “That’s why you had us handle up on ole’ boy? You should have said that was why. Would have broke that bitch left hand too.”

“I’m going to kill them both before all is said and done.” And that’s a fucking promise, an oath. Their days are numbered. “But until then, I’ll keep them away from her.”

“That must piss them the fuck off.”

“Exactly.” Beyond making sure they don’t fucking touch Solana, Roman recognizes flexing his power and authority by cutting off all contact between them is something Miller and his boy must find infuriating. They’ve clearly thrived on controlling and torturing Solana, but that shit is over.

Solana is Bloodline now.

No one fucking touches her.

“Well.” Jimmy blows out a big breath and shrugs his shoulders. “I just hope you know what you doing, Big Dog.”

“Don’t I always.” Roman mutters, opening the manilla envelope to start going over the files. “Jimmy.”

“Yeah?”

“Have Naomi continue to do Solana’s training from the house.”

“Come on, man, my girl is already on that. She said Soso’s been getting better and better too. ” Jimmy answers, explaining, “I think she and Bey should be over there right about now anyway. Feels like they always over there these days.”

Roman wouldn’t entirely disagree. He gets regular updates from security regarding any and all happenings at his home, which includes a list of visitors, and Naomi and Bayley have been consistent on that list.

Roman also understands now why Solana hasn’t replied to his latest text.

Not that it bothers him. A lot, at least. He has shit to do anyway.

A couple minutes later, Jimmy leaves, and Roman is left alone to venture into the next task on his to-do list.

As expected, Solana’s medical records consist of a lot of emergency visits for accidents. Sprains. Broken bones. Fractures. Endless bruising, hematomas even. The visits eventually die down, but Roman suspects it’s not because the abuse stopped or paused. More likely they stopped taking her and she tended to her wounds herself.

But, the largest section of her records is the most telling.

Subjective: PT is a 16 y/o mixed race female currently admitted following SI attempt. PT was reportedly found in bathroom by family maid and transported to ER by ambulance where she was formally admitted. PT does not appear fully oriented to person, place, and time. PT offered minimal responses to questions and would only speak when prompted. PT denies auditory and visual hallucinations. PT reports wanting to be with mother who is deceased. PT reports no will to live. PT indicated yes with a head nod when asked about hx of sexual trauma. PT observed to become teary eyed following this acknowledgment and would not speak on nature of trauma. PT began to cry and moved into fetal position after being asked reasons for attempt. PT was heard repeating the question, “why didn’t you let me die?” PT became unresponsive after this exchange.

Assessment: PT presents with flat affect and depressed mood. Presents with poor insight and impulse control. PT’s wrists medically wrapped. Faded scars and bruises observed on PT’s arms, legs and partially faded bruise on left eye. PT also has scars on both arms and face, reportedly from knife attack during childhood.

Objective: PT does not appear stable enough to be released from care. Fx is severely impaired. I suspect a long history of complex trauma, confirmed sexual abuse, and suspected physical abuse. Medical records from client’s initial admission indicate “numerous” pre-existing cuts on PT’s inner forearms, indicating repeated incidents of self-harm. I deem PT to be an imminent danger to herself and suspect a release would result in another SI attempt.

Plan: I strongly recommend client be transferred to an adolescent residential facility or kept inpatient at hospital where she can be monitored and placed on medication regimen as well as participate in intensive individual and group therapy to assist in mood stabilization.

If released and left untreated, it is my belief and professional opinion that PT will eventually be successful in efforts to end life.

Diagnosis: F43.10 Posttraumatic Stress Disorder w/ Dissociation

Roman keeps reading over this section of the file, but there’s one part that stands out the most.

PT indicated yes with a head nod when asked about hx of sexual trauma.

That’s the part that Roman can’t seem to move past. He’s read it all. Every fucking word. And it’s all horrific. But, it’s that one sentence, that one damn sentence that confirms what he’d started to suspect, had gradually started to put the pieces together to see the much larger, darker picture.

She’d been touched. He doesn’t know to what extent, but regardless of the specific nature, at fucking sixteen years old, she’d already been violated.

A single swoop of his big arm across the desk sends all of the items once neatly situated sprawled across the cherry wood flooring. Roman stands up and slams his fist down on the table, head down as he tries to calm his suddenly shot nerves.

Livid. He’s livid.

The Bloodline is a lot of things but that has never and will be one of them. It only took one time for some fucking piece of shit to even suggest the Bloodline enter the world of Human Trafficing to increase their reach and profits even more for everyone to know that’s where the line in the sand is drawn.

Roman’s never put a fucking bullet in someone’s head so fast.

The same urge he has currently.

An urge that’s almost instantly lessened by a small amount when his phone lights up and a name appears across his lock screen.

Solana

Eyes shutting, Roman runs his hand over his face and snatches the phone, unlocking it to view her text.

Solana: What time will you be home tonight?

Instantly, Roman feels a lessening of his anger, reading her message, almost hearing said message in her gentle voice. It’s a distraction but both a reminder of why he’s all upset. Solana’s softness doesn’t equate with the violence she’s experienced, the violation, the pain. Especially as a fucking child. Roman has never understood and has always been especially infuriated by violence against children. There’s wrong and then there’s immoral.

That’s beyond immoral.

Roman will never deny he’s committed his fair share of sins, earning a VIP spot in hell when that time finally comes, but that is something he could and will never get behind.

Solana: Just so I know what time to have dinner ready by…..

Her follow up is typical, always explaining what she doesn’t have to.

Roman gives her the best reply he can muster up at this moment in time.

Roman: Not sure. Don’t worry about that. Probably won’t get in until late.

And he truly doesn’t know, because going home in this state of anger won’t do her any good. He told her he’d try to be mindful of his temper around her, and this is just that. He doesn’t want to scare her.

He needs an outlet.

But, here lies the fucking dilemma.

Since he was a teenager, Roman’s outlet has always been sex. He’s the type to fuck away his feelings. Working out also helps, but sex always took the cake, helped out sometimes just a smidge or a shit ton more.

And in a different kind of world, he’d do just that working out with the same woman he finds himself infatuated over. His dick stiffens in his pants thinking back on the picture Naomi sent and wisely unsent to his disrespectful ass cousins.

But not before he could save it to his camera roll.

Roman has never and will never deny his physical attraction to Solana. She checks every box for him in that category, but she’s not an option. He can’t touch her. He can’t touch her because some fucking piece of shit did just that to her when she was essentially a child, and now she can’t stand to be touched because of it.

Roman finds himself returning to his previous level of rage.

He needs to work this off him.

And he knows just how.

Grabbing his phone and switching from Solana’s thread to hers, he shoots out a simple text.

Roman: I’m coming over.

________

True to his word, Roman gets back late after an…..interesting visit to see Samantha. Somewhat worth it, but mostly now just another irritating thing he has to handle. Not that her being upset bothers him in the slightest.

She can fuck off and ride off into the sunset for all he cares.

Granted, the non-asshole side of him, more a small section than a side, can understand why she was upset with him.

He just can’t find it in him to give a fuck.

What he does find, however, is something else.

Roman steps into the living room and sees none other than Solana sleeping on the sofa. Confused, he quietly moves closer in her direction and sits opposite of her on the sturdy, mahogany wood coffee table.

And he watches her, studies her sleeping expression, wondering if she had another nightmare. The possibility drags him back to his earlier disposition, the reason he didn’t allow himself to come back to the mansion at a more reasonable time.

He didn’t want to expose her to that. To that side of him.

Without much thought, he reaches for her face, fingers gently caressing the smooth skin of her cheek. She feels so soft, a stark contrast against his roughness.

In more than one area.

He’s not sure if she felt his gesture or, like him, is just a light sleeper because her eyes slowly start fluttering open. He waits for her to become more aware and cognizant, and she does, whispering, “hey.”

He matches her low volume. “Hey.” Roman studies her, asking, “you alright?”

She nods, gradually sitting up, and he tries not to notice how instead of wearing the type of baggy shirts he’s noticed she likes to sleep in, she’s donning a thin sleeved top that accentuates her chest. “Yeah, I—” She closes her mouth, and he can tell by the way her brows furrow slightly that she’s trying to figure out how to word whatever she wants to say. “You seemed off. I just—just wanted to make sure you were okay, but I guess I fell asleep….”

It’s Roman’s turn now to not quite understand or make sense of what he’s hearing, so he asks, still in that subdued voice, “you waited up for me?”

Roman can’t recall the last time anyone cared when and even if he made it home. He doesn’t know how to feel about this. At all.

With a sheepish expression, she nods, “tried to, at least.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” And it’s the truth. He doesn’t know why she would in the first place anyway. “It was just….a long day.”

Solana nods, “I get that.” He also takes note of the fact that she’s not stammering as much, doesn’t seem as jittery as he’s used to seeing her. “I should—I guess I’ll go to bed now.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, just sits back so she can stand up without him being too in her space. He especially understands now why that’s such a big thing for her.

But, it’s when she stands that his gaze seems to travel to her inner forearms, faded scars now having an even bleaker meaning as he now has the full story.

Another sentence from her medical report whizzes back to him.

If released and left untreated, it is my belief and professional opinion that PT will eventually be successful in efforts to end life.

He should write it. Roman knows this. Knows that she’d probably respond better and be more comfortable writing, but he also knows it makes him feel almost physically uncomfortable with having to wait to get a response.

He’s much too impatient for that shit.

He needs to say this shit now.

“Solana.”

She’s halfway to the staircase and turns around, “yes?”

Roman’s never been one to beat around the bush, so he gets straight to the point. “You used to cut, right?”

Always perceptive, Roman sees the shock in her face at his question, the unease that brews as she nervously runs her hand along the side of her cardigan pajama pants. “I—yes, but—not since….it’s been a long time.”

He half expected to have to ask her about the last time she actually did it, though he can tell by how faded the scars are that it has been quite some time, so he believes her. Knows she’s telling the truth.

Still, he needs to make something perfectly clear.

“Any of those thoughts come back, you tell me. I don’t care if you have to paint it on the fucking wall. I want to know.” His intense expression is set right on her, needing to make sure she understands what he’s asking of her. “Understand?”

Solana looks just as confused as he feels as to why this is suddenly important to him, important that she knows she can come to him if those dark thoughts and urges occur. But still, she agrees, acknowledging in that same small voice.

“I understand….”

________

The breeder is only about a half hour out from the mansion, allowing for a drive that’s on the shorter side than what Roman was initially anticipating.

Just like he successfully anticipated Solana’s nervousness throughout that entire drive. She keeps looking out the window, most likely trying to navigate where they’re going. And if not for the unexpected but necessary business call he had to take that lasted almost the entirety of the drive, he would have tried to calm her nerves.

He’s realizing he doesn’t like seeing her so on edge.

When they arrive, Roman is the first to exit the SUV, circling around to open the door for her. She offers a nervous smile and steps out, Roman’s eyes darting to her ass, the sway of it in her yoga pants as she moves a bit away, taking in the average two story house in front of them.

She looks back at him, and he redirects his focus to her eyes, big, brown, and just as innocent as the rest of her. “Where—where are we?”

Paul also steps out of the car, almost immediately coughing and waving at some flying insect that whizzed at him. “In the middle of nowhere.” He then sets his cautious gaze on Roman. “My Tribal Chief, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I have terrible allergies—”

“I don’t care.” Roman cuts him off, speaking to Solana, gesturing with a nod of his head. “Come with me.”

A part of him wonders if she’ll hesitate, freeze up on him, maybe even refuse. But she instead moves closer to him, walking along his side as he leads them up the steps of the porch. He reaches for the doorbell and is almost instantaneously met with the sound of barking. Interestingly enough, one glance down at Solana and he sees a spark of excitement that chips away at her nerves.

A couple seconds later, the door opens revealing a middle aged white woman wearing an inauthentic smile. The kind of smile someone forces for a business meeting or possible transaction.

“You must be Mr. Reigns?” She correctly guesses, eyes then landing on Solana. “And you must be the Mrs?”

Roman places his hand on the small of Solana’s back, noticing how she initially tenses but, surprisingly, relaxes just a few seconds later. “My wife, Solana.”

Solana offers a small wave and polite hello but nothing more.

“I’m Beverly.” She introduces, but Roman doesn’t care. He doesn’t need to know shit about her except whatever her price is. She steps aside, motioning for them to come in. “Please.” He allows Solana to walk in first, followed by himself. When Paul doesn’t also follow suit, Roman turns around. “Wise Man.”

Paul, complexion starting to become pinkish, politely declines. “I’ll just wait here—”

“Wise Man.”

“Coming, My Tribal Chief.”

Once all three are inside, Betty or whoever, offers something to drink which all three decline, shortly after which the woman asks, “so, are we looking for—”

“It’s for her.” Roman motions to Solana who looks at him still wholly confused as a teenage girl, who looks like the spitting image of her mother, descends down the stairs. “Whatever she wants.”

Betty’s eyes light up as she directs the teenager. “Honey, can you take her outside to see the puppies?”

“Sure.” The teen’s voice is annoyingly preppy, like nails on the chalkboard, like a fucking cheerleader or something. “Follow me.”

Solana again looks at Roman, as if for guidance, but he only nods, encouraging her to follow. She’s still reluctant—he can see as such—but ultimately follows the blonde out the backdoor.

As soon as she’s out the door. Betty starts with the irritating sales pitch, talking to him about the history of Pomeranians, the benefits of that breed, dietary guidelines and other things he couldn’t give two shits about. It’s why he doesn’t hesitate to take the business call the minute his phone rings and instead advises Paul to listen to the woman talk.

He moves to the front of the house, securing another layer of privacy and doesn’t even hesitate to walk right past a wheezing Paul to head out back where Solana is once the call is over.

Roman finds her outside in the spacious yet somehow closed in yard. She’s sitting in the grass, legs open as a tiny dog, a puppy, moves back and forth between sitting in Solana’s lap and running in a circle before coming right back to her. Roman realizes she’s playing with the freakishly small animal, but beyond that, she’s smiling.

And laughing.

Roman can’t recall the last time, if ever, he’s seen her do the latter of the two. Even her smile is much larger, much more genuine than he’s seen her offer in the short time he’s known her..

“That one.” The woman, Bonnie, who came outside at one point with Paul, moves toward Roman. “She wants that one.”

Bonnie steps forward and frowns, slapping on that disingenuous smile he’s learned how to read all too well with years of experience working with people. “Oh no, that one’s not supposed to be out there. My daughter must have forgotten to pull her.”

Roman really does try sometimes with people, but they always end up fucking annoying him one way or another. “She wants that one.”

The woman stutters. “I–I’m sorry, but that dog is already under contract.”

Rolling his eyes, he asks, surprisingly calmly, not wanting to necessarily cause a scene in front of Solana. “How much?”

“Pardon?”

Roman does his best to hide his irritation at having to repeat himself. “How much?”

Betty releases a nervous smile, crossing her arms across her badly built body. “I—I can’t sell you a dog that’s already under contract, sir.”

Politics. It’s all politics. Roman knew the second Betty’s smile grew as her eyes landed on his Hublot watch that she saw this as a great, unexpected windfall. And she’s not entirely wrong. “Everyone has a fucking price, lady. Name yours.”

She stutters again. “Sir, I—I appreciate the interest, but that dog comes from a champion bloodline. The buyers intend to show her, so they’re paying a pretty penny.” She throws out casually, as if he can’t tell what she’s trying to do, the deal she’s trying to see if she can score. “They’re paying $10,000—”

There it is. The sin of greed that gets us all at one point or another.

Without second thought or guess, Roman states, “I’ll give you $20,000.”

As expected, her eyes nearly bulge out of her head, the expression highlighting excessive crows feet no doubt caused by unnecessary time spent under this scorching sun. “$20,000?” He doesn’t even have to counter again. “Well, I suppose I could offer them another puppy—”

“Good.” Roman knew right away “negotiating” with this woman wouldn’t take much. She’s in it for a clean, high profit, which is fair considering one could say that for all business owners. But, if all else failed, he had…..other strategies. But those are much messier, and he’d rather just throw a stack of cash her way so they could be on their merry fucking way. “Wise Man.”

Paul steps forward, pudgy cheeks reddened and eyes watering. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“Pay the woman.”

Paul swallows. “But, my—”

“Wise Man.”

Paul’s cheeks redden as he nods and motions to the house. Roman doesn’t need to say anything else. “I will handle the sale. Shall we?”

As Roman allows his counsel to handle the closing of the deal, he walks over to Solana who looks over at him with that same smile. He crouches down near her, observing, “she seems to like you.” And it’s the truth, seeing how the other puppies are content with playing with each other, this one is sticking with Solana.

She looks at Roman, petting the top of its head carefully, looking back down with that happy smile.“Thank you for taking me—”

“She’s yours.”

Her head snaps in his direction, right as the dog climbs into her lap. “W–what?” Solana blinks, face painted in plausible confusion. “M–mine?”

Roman chuckles. “It’s certainly not for me.”

“Really?” Roman watches the hairy ass creature stand on its legs, as if demanding her attention. Attention whore ass.

“Yes, if you want her—”

“Yes,” she answers almost immediately, suddenly. And true to her nature, she’s already backtracking. “I mean—“

“You want her, so she’s yours,” he reiterates his previous statement, but there’s a tone of finality that lets Solana know he’s not open to a discussion or debate.

It’s a sure thing.

“She’d be your dog. Not mine.” He clarifies. Solana can tell it’s also his way of telling her he’s not doing shit to help her take care of this dog, which is more than fair since Solana would bet he had no plans to purchase a dog anytime soon.

So why is he?

She just has to ask again. “You don’t—-you really don’t care?”

It feels unreal. Too much like not an option. Not a reality. Why would he allow her a pet? Buy her a pet?

He eyes the animal that’s seemingly already taken so well to Solana. “She’s so damn small I’ll probably forget she’s there half the time.”

There’s that laugh again, and Roman finds himself with a small smile of his own, not as big, nor as genuine, but a smile nonetheless. But just as quick as it’s there, it’s gone. Clearing his throat, he asks, “what are you gonna name her?”

Solana looks down at the puppy in her lap, nestled so comfortably against her stomach, eyes fluttering close like she’s about to fall asleep. With a soft smile and gentle caress of her coat, she answers. “Dulce.”

Roman’s thick brows arch together as he asks, “is that Spanish?”

She nods, glancing over at him just long enough to answer. “It means sweet.”

He makes a sound. That lines up. For both of them.

The dog's eyes then land on him with as much disinterest he feels about it, quickly focusing back on Solana. “I suppose we’ll have to get supplies and shit for her.”

Roman doesn’t consider himself having a childhood, so he refers to what most call just that as his ‘formative year.’ And during those formative years, he never had a pet, so this is new to him as well, outside of just the common sense parts of owning a dog.

She’s petting the sleeping puppy “Aren’t you busy today?”

Yes. Always. Roman’s to-do list is on subscribe and save, constantly delivering him new shit when he’s still working on the old shit. It’s just a part of the job though.

“No,” he answers. “It can wait.”

________

A couple of stops at different stores to pick up all of the shit Solana needs for Dulce along with getting the first vet appointment scheduled for the puppy takes just under three hours, which still grants Roman plenty of time to head into the office. Not until, though, he makes sure Solana is good to go, good with being left alone with the dog.

He meant it when he said it was her dog and he wouldn’t be helping out and shit, but given it’s the first day, he can see how there could be some nerves there.

But, there’s not. She’s good to go, hence his okayness with leaving for a little while to get some work done.

She doesn’t text him as much during the day, a noticeable thing that he understands is because she’s spending time with the dog.

But, he does come home for lunch to get in a workout where he finds an entry in the notebook.

Roman,

Thank you so much.

I promise I’ll take care of her and keep her out of your way. Paul’s too. I’ll keep her in the room with me when he’s over.

I always wanted a dog, but my dad hates them, and even if he didn’t, I was always too scared Wes would do something to it or worse….just to hurt me. He hates me, if you didn’t notice….

Solana

Roman doesn’t take much, if any time, to reply. He’d prefer to talk to her in person, but Bayley and Naomi are over, the three women in the backyard playing with the dog. So, he allows her that time, settling for a written response.

Solana,

You’re welcome.

Don’t worry about Paul. He won’t fucking die from allergies, and if he does, oh well.

I noticed. It’s why I’ll never leave you alone with him or your shitty father. Ever.

Why does he hate you?

Roman

Solana is partially upset when she realizes she missed Roman coming home for a workout, not that she wanted to bother him, just maybe….see him. Maybe even talk to him. Possibly tell him thank you again in person vs writing it in the notebook, but after Naomi and Bayley are gone and she’s fed Dulce her dinner, Solana sees Roman replied, leaving the notebook on her bed this time.

Most likely for privacy.

The first part of his note makes her laugh, even if she doesn’t enjoy Paul clearly suffering from his allergies. The second part, however, Solana struggles with.

She doesn’t know how honest to be with Roman, doesn’t know where she should draw that line in the sand. However, it’s not missed upon her that everything she’s shared with him, he’s been surprisingly okay with. Never having such a major reaction that it made her second guess her sharing.

And the man just bought her a fucking dog, something she’s always wanted. For no apparent reason.

Maybe….maybe she can be a bit more honest, a bit more forthcoming, even if it is a somber truth.

Roman,

I don’t want to inconvenience Paul. That’s not fair to him….

Wes blames me for our mother’s murder, says it was my fault.

And he’s not wrong.

She is dead because of me.

Solana

The minute Solana brings the notebook to Roman’s room, she regrets it. She regrets opening up, regrets being so vulnerable with him. Just because he answers her questions and bought her a puppy doesn’t mean he gives two shits about her trauma.

She’s so tempted to sneak into his room and take the journal back. It keeps her up, makes her toss and turn as Dulce sleeps peacefully in her pink dog bed beside Solana’s.

But, it’s when Solana wakes up at 4am and notices the notebook on her nightstand, her anxiety reaches another level. Instead of avoiding it until morning, she sits up and snatches it, flipping to the page they’re on.

And her stomach achieves a new level of butterflies when she reads his response.

Solana,

It’s not your fault.

Also, you were wrong.

I care what you have to say and think.

Roman

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

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wondeurwall · 9 months ago

Note

Idk if u've seen rafayel's new oracle story BUT IT HAS BEEN PLAGUING MY MIND

"What if i make it up to you like this yeah?"

MAKE UP SEX WITH RAFAYEL.

TELL ME DO YOU THINK THEY'LL HAVE IT OFTEN?? But ones in a more playful sort of way not really full on arguments if you get what i mean 😩💗💗

oh my god please, nonnie, rafayel's oracle story is literally the only thing on my mind. i've been so unwell

i went in with one dream and spent everything i had because my luck is abysmal. and, the worst part?? I CAN'T EVEN BE UPSET ABOUT IT 😭🫵🏻 it wasn't what i expected. it's kind of funny ASKDDJKD!! i thought it'd be myth related. instead, i was blessed with rafayel.... kisses... 🥰

itty bitty nsfw 🔞 mdni.

rafayel would 100% down for playful makeup sex 😵‍💫💕 honestly, he'd pull any kind of excuse just to get you undressed and fucked out in bliss. he loves how pretty you look when you cum 💕 even more when he and you can get a good laugh in between because he'd appreciate lightheartedness in intimacy. after all, he wouldn't have sex with anyone else! he needs trust to do those sweet, silly things too, and he can only ever do that with you.

because i think he'd find a lot of fun with it, he'd do it often, but the sex doesn't necessarily need to be absolutely mind-blowing once initiated. banter is fun, even better when it leads to sex, but he just loves being close like that: naked and a tangled mess of limbs with the warmth coming from your body to his.

he's a night owl, so he's unintentionally ignoring your texts. maybe, even misses a few phone calls or immediately ends an incoming one, thinking it's an alarm he set up before. part of the day goes by and you're coming into his home to make sure he's doing alright. there's no use in pretending that you aren't upset. because you are upset! you didn't hear from him 💔 but, you find that he's just now out of bed after finishing a new piece of art.

"were you asleep this whole time?" you ask.

he rambles on about a sudden inspiration he had and that, "it'd be wrong to rest when the idea was too good."

you listen, nod, but truthfully some of his words go in and out the other ear. you frown at him. and, when he asks why you have that look on your face, you're quick to say, "i'm sure you can figure out why."

he knows. of course, he knows. he reads you well, just like you do him. then, his shoulders are a little hunched over, and he's laughing!

"i've really spoiled you," he says softly. his hands are on your hips the next second, pulling you close. "mm, why not let me make it up to you? i'm awake now, and we have the rest of the day to ourselves."

he lifts you and lays you on the couch. kisses you while he thinks about how many times he can get you gushing on his fingers and tongue before his cock.

OR, if you're the one making it up to him 🥹

accidentally spilling paint on a good shirt of his? you're panicking as soon as it happens. your hands move faster than your mouth, and you're halfway with unbuttoning his shirt before telling him he needs to take it off.

his laughter is what stops you. it dawns on you! but, to be fair, your thoughts don't have anything else besides: the shirt must be washed before it really stains.

"someone's being bold," he chuckles as your eyes meet. "did you plan this?"

"what?" and, the fabric drops from between your fingers. rafayel doesn't miss the way your gaze falls briefly, catching the sight of his bare chest, last 2 or 3 buttons barely laying over his abdomen. "me, ruining a piece of clothing that's probably over three times my budget? i don't think that's planning. it's called being clumsy."

your face feels warm. you take a deep breath, reach out to him, "c'mon. i'll wash it. take it off before the paint makes it unsalvageable."

rafayel clasps your wrist with his hand, steps into your space, voice deepening with a tinge of playfulness, "no, i can think of a better idea. how about me and you have matching clothes?"

he embraces you, gets you wearing blotches of paint too, and you want to argue. but, you can't find the energy to when one hand is guiding your head back and the other is tugging on your neckline. rafayel's lips move to your throat first. then, trails open-mouthed kisses along the rest of your neck, jaw, the base of your shoulder, before whispering, "it's a good idea, yeah?"

since you're the one to make a mess of his shirt first, he wants you riding him as compensation. to make him feel good? yes, sure, he loves that. though, the reason for it, most of all: he wants you using his cock like you own it. wants you aching and desperate for him. cum all over him, feel good because of him. nothing gets him going more than watching you bounce on top and moan his name so sweetly 🥰

#love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace smut #rafayel smut #lads x reader #lads smut #l&ds x reader #l&ds smut #rafayel x you #WONDEURWALL ೃ⁀➷ MAIL 💌#omg i went a little overboard with this JFRKLGFD!!#i'd love to do drabbles for things like these #maybe i'll do that after this fic isn't eating my brain anymore #the amount of times i've listened to raf's oracle... UNHEALTHY

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cadavercowboy · 5 months ago

Text

Hot Rod

Anonymous said: i need a eddie munson fic where reader is pretty bold. I had a dream where i texted him "i wanna blow you" and he just responded "hot." i need this so bad 😭 Hmmm. *cracks knuckles* Alright, allow me to extrapolate a bit here... Idk why Eddie is a mechanic, it just felt right. I believe he would find this ridiculously hot and would lose his silly little mind if his girl got all confident and cocky about giving him the schlurpy durp.

Pairing: Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You send Eddie some dirty texts and he takes full advantage of the opportunity afforded to him.

Word Count: 2.1k+

Warnings: Explicit content (18+ only). Sexting. Oral sex (it's sloppy toppy, guys!). Slight degradation. Face-fucking. Cum swallowing.

A/N: Reposting this because I privated the original and tumblr decided to fucking eat it. :-)

He heard the ping of his phone between the high-pitched whirs of Wayne’s pneumatic drill, though he’d ignored it on account of the grimy layer of black grease coating his fingers. Another ping and then a third let him know who it was texting him. A sudden sense of urgency had him ducking out from under the hood of the latest vintage car his uncle had him helping to rebuild so he could reach for the red rag on the workbench to clean his hands just enough to check his messages. The sight of your nickname splashed across the screen had prompted a small smile, but the content of your messages had his jaw falling slack.

“Eddieee…”

“I wanna blow you.”

Short. Sweet. Straight to the point. Eddie had licked his lips, fighting back a groan as he re-read the texts.

“Miss the way you feel in my mouth…wish I could taste you right now.”

The bold statement had caught Eddie off guard. While you’re far from a prude, it wasn’t usual for you to so blatantly express your desires. He wasn’t sure how to respond, but he knew a simple text wouldn’t suffice; he needs to give you precisely what you’ve asked for. Still, he couldn’t leave you hanging so he tapped out a lackluster response, knowing he’d make up for it shortly.

“Hot.”

Eddie had stopped giving a shit about his greasy fingers as he dragged a hand through his hair and tried to come up with an excuse to give Wayne so he could get home to you. Sure, he felt a little guilty about flaking on his uncle, but the constriction in his pants won out over the one which tightened his chest.

“Hey, Wayne?” Eddie called hesitantly.

His uncle popped up from his stooped position near the rear wheel of the cherry red Coupe, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“I’m pretty beat,” Eddie lied easily. “Think I’m gonna call it a day, man.”

Wayne nodded as he stood, tossing a rusted bolt into a coffee can already half-full of discarded hardware. He wiped his hands on the stained material of his navy jumpsuit, wondering why his nephew had suddenly decided to pack it up for the night as he checked the dirty face of his watch.

“Alright, kid. I’ll probably be outta here pretty soon, too.”

Relieved that Wayne hadn’t questioned him, Eddie returned his tools to the rack and cleaned up his workspace so as to avoid any reprimanding from his uncle. His phone chirped again and he snuck a quick peek as inconspicuously as possible. He wished he hadn’t.

“Come home and fuck my throat.”

“Jesus goddamn Christ,” Eddie muttered, nearly dropping the device.

Wayne eyed him wordlessly, studying his shaggy-haired nephew as he fumbled with his cellphone and shoved it in his pocket for the second time in the last few minutes. He suspected the jingling electronic had something to do with Eddie’s sudden desire to leave, though he said nothing.

“See you tomorrow, Ed,” Wayne grumbled. “Tell your girl I said hello.”

Eddie’s steps faltered, unsure if his uncle’s words were intentional or if he’s just paranoid. Wayne noticed the hesitation but pretended he didn’t, instead burying his head in the engine of his car to hide his sly smirk.

And that’s how Eddie ended up racing home to you and making it there in record time.

Though he knew you’d kill him for it, he texted you on the drive; punching the keys haphazardly — volleying his eyes between the road and the screen — to let you know he was on his way. He had every intention of testing to see whether you have the balls to back up what you’ve said and he knows you know that even without him saying so. Still, you pretended not to see his text. You feign ignorance as his booted feet come clamoring through the door.

“Baby?” Eddie calls, his voice nearly as tight as his pants had been the entire ride here.

He rounds the corner and spots you. You’re lounging on the sofa and watching something mindless on the television. You look so pretty dressed in nothing but a tattered Tom Petty tee, your bare legs stretched out and your ankles propped up on the arm of the couch. He’d love to bound across the room and ravish you right there on the worn green cushions, but he’d much rather have you make good on the earlier declarations you had made so confidently.

“Oh, you’re home,” you note with a smile, though your expression immediately darkens as you swing your body off the couch and begin to advance on him. “Finally.”

Eddie doesn’t even have a chance to say hello before you’re falling to your knees in front of him. His mouth drops open in disbelief and his arms raise at his sides; he’s not quite sure what else to do with them as your fingers deftly undo his belt and wrench his zipper down. You shove impatiently at his grease and oil-stained pants, shifting them just enough to get to what you want. There’s something so hot about the fact that you seem unphased that Eddie has come straight from work and hasn’t had a shower yet; his dick stiffens in agreement.

The warmth of your hand surrounds his half-hard erection as you reach under the waistband of his underwear and Eddie groans in bliss. Your texts already have him so torqued up, he fears he won’t last very long. If the jolts of electricity shooting through his body at the mere caress of your fingers are anything to go by, he’ll be lucky if his dick even makes it to your mouth.

“Been wanting this all day,” you purr as your fist pumps Eddie’s length, coaxing him to harden further.

His legs waver when he sees how hungrily you stare at his dick, your desperation written all over your face. Your wide, wet eyes peering up at him makes his cock throb in your hand and you lick your lips. He barely hears what you say when you mutter something about needing to taste him because your comment is lost among the sound of his broken moan as your lips surround his sensitive tip.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie whispers, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. “That’s so…s’good.”

You suckle his swollen head, intermittently flicking your tongue across the weeping slit until Eddie’s knees nearly buckle. When you lean in to drag your soft lips further down his length, Eddie comes dangerously close to exploding. A muffled moan escapes you as you taste the heady flavor of Eddie’s skin mingling with his sweat. He sucks in air between his teeth, finally looking down at you again and delving his hands into your hair to guide your movements.

As much as you love when he takes control, you want to make Eddie feel good; specifically, you want him to relax and let you take care of him. Rather than heeding the pressure of his hands, you plunge your head forward and swallow as much of his cock as you comfortably can.

Your throat constricts and your eyes begin to prickle with tears. The metal teeth of Eddie’s zipper drag along your chin when you widen your jaw to accommodate the size of him. Gently rocking your head side to side, you manage the last inch before Eddie is pulling away from you. He stops when your mouth is midway down his shaft, taking in the sight of your mouth stuffed full of him as his girth stretches your lips wide.

With your best puppy dog eyes and a dissatisfied whine, you silently plead with Eddie to allow you to proceed. You need to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue, need to bury your nose in the thatch of curls at his base until you’re gagging around him. You want it so badly.

Eddie shudders when you swirl your tongue against the thick vein that runs along the underside of his cock. Saliva gathers in the corners of your mouth as Eddie sits hot and hard between your parted lips, the slickness beginning to trickle down your chin. Something in Eddie’s gaze shifts in a way that both frightens and thrills you.

“You really want my cock that bad, huh?” he taunts, a hand circling under your jaw to force you to meet his eyes.

You nod your head carefully, your lips sliding against his turgid flesh with the movement. Eddie grunts in response as his thumb brushes along the corner of your mouth to gather some of the spit that leaks out.

“Why don’t you let me fuck your pretty little mouth then?” he adds. “Just like you said earlier. Bet you didn’t think I’d follow through.”

Eddie’s words are stern but teasing, challenging you to prove that you aren’t all talk. He doesn’t wait for an answer, instead shoves his pants and underwear lower, baring his cock and balls and the length of his pale thighs to you. He shifts his feet and brings his other hand to your face, each of his thumbs hooking in either side of your mouth as he pulls out.

“Look at me,” he commands, waiting until you obey before he continues. “Stick your tongue out.”

The wet flesh brushes against Eddie’s cock when you do, the heaviness of the appendage making your thighs clench. Eddie shoves his digits further into your mouth, tucking them between your teeth so you couldn’t close your mouth even if you wanted to. Saliva dribbles from your gaping mouth and he pushes the solid head of his cock through the moisture before shoving the stiff member back between your lips.

“You look like such a pretty little slut. Keep your eyes on me and breathe through your nose,” is all the warning Eddie growls before he thrusts his hips forward.

The first press of his hard cockhead against the back of your throat is alarming and you flinch and cough, but Eddie doesn’t relent. He thrusts with steady and smooth strokes, his hefty cock dragging over your tongue and bumping the sensitive spot that makes you gag until tears spill from your eyes. You gag and splutter and each noise only spurs him on, the pathetic sounds earning a grunt of pleasure with each slip and slide of Eddie’s slick cock.

“Stay just like that,” he snarls behind gritted teeth, making the demand as if you have any choice but to remain in his steadfast hold as he fucks your throat. “Be a good girl and let me use you.”

Just as expected, Eddie can feel his balls tightening with his impending orgasm. Adjusting your position, you brace yourself against Eddie’s forceful thrusts; cupping your hands around the backs of his bare thighs and hugging your body close to his so he can continue to fuck your face with ease.

You’re a mess of tears and drool and damn if he doesn’t wish he could stay here forever. Spit falls in steady globs on your chest, soaking your shirt. The wet sound of his cock sliding through the abundant moisture is going to be ingrained in Eddie’s head for a long, long time. Not to mention the way you whimper as you struggle to take him.

A buzzing in his ears signals the nearness of his release and Eddie holds his breath as he buries every inch of his pulsing cock in your mouth. The swollen head slips just past the tightness of your esophagus and when the muscles squeeze him, Eddie loses it.

He begrudgingly pulls back, only for the satisfaction of coating your tongue with the creamy spurts. You sniffle and whine when the warm drops hit your taste buds and fill your mouth. Though you do your best to keep it all contained, Eddie just keeps cumming and the abundant seed overflows and begins to ooze over your lower lip and down your chin.

“Fuck,” Eddie sighs, fisting his cock and giving it a final shake to dispel the few drops that still seep from the tip.

Not bothering to fix his disheveled clothes, Eddie crouches in front of you. He studies your soaked face and your full mouth, his cock twitching appreciatively at the debauched sight you make.

“Show me,” he whispers hotly.

You widen your jaw and stick your tongue out, careful not to let a single drop of Eddie’s cum escape. He inhales deeply, satisfied with your obedience and directs you to swallow it all. A shiver courses through you at the heated tone of Eddie’s voice, but you do as he asks. Your tongue peeks out to sweep any remaining spend from your lips, though Eddie beats you to it.

His large hand cups the back of your head, pulling you in so he can capture your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. The sweet taste of you mingles with his own saltiness and Eddie moans into the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours until you’re breathless.

“What the hell got into you?” Eddie pants with amusement as he observes you with adoration and surprise.

Joseph Quinn Masterlist ✦ Writing Masterpost

#this repost is a consequence of me getting the ick & also being insecure about my own writing lol #now i have to shine a literal spotlight on my transgression by making a whole new post #anyway #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fanfiction #eddie munson x reader fanfic #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn smut #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut

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paradiseismine · 5 months ago

Text

Backstage - Finn Wolfhard x reader

Love note from Nina: I’ve been meaning to write this one since I’ve seen Finn’s pictures from Atlanta/Birmingham; but couldn’t find the words until now.

Pairing: Finn Wolfhard x f!reader

Summary: Finn invites you backstage after a concert with his band, The Aubreys.

Warnings: so much smut, heaven help me.

It was a warm Saturday night and your girl friends nearly dragged you out of your shared apartment in New York. They had tickets for some indie band’s concert and wanted you to tag along. After some protesting, you finally gave in.

A quick subway ride later, you got to a small theater where the concert was about to start. It wasn’t sold out (“The Aubreys” was still an indie band, after all), but there were plenty of people in there. One of your friends was able to get all three of you to the very front of the stage, the closest you could possibly be to the band.

As the concert began, you suddenly detested that night a lot less - a tall black haired boy singing the first song really got your attention. You locked eyes with him for a moment, and that was all it took.

- Do you know that boy’s name? - you nearly screamed into your friend’s ear.

- Which one?

You were so mesmerized, you barely noticed there were more than one person up there.

- The black haired one - you rolled your eyes, as if it was obvious. - The one with the guitar.

- Oh - she said, rolling her eyes too. He was SO your type, she should’ve known. - That’s Finn Wolfhard. You know, Mike from Stranger Things?

- Really? - your eyes went wide.

You had seen Stranger Things before, and while it was definitely a good show, you surely hadn’t paid enough attention to that beauty right in front of you.

The first song was over and you kept your eyes glued on him. Finn took a few steps forward, crouched and read the setlist (a piece of paper taped to the stage floor), dipping his lips in a small glass bottle. You assumed it was some sort of beer that he was drinking. He took a sip and his eyes met yours a few seconds later. The smile he gave you simply melted your heart. You smiled back and mouthed “great show”, to which he simply mouthed back “thank you”.

You spent the rest of the concert vibing to the songs, swaying your body slowly from side to side and singing along the choruses and other small phrases you were able to pick up from. Finn had his eyes glued on yours. It was like he was singing to you specifically; everybody else just happened to be there.

As the concert was coming to an end, you felt someone touch your shoulder from behind.

- Excuse me, miss - you turned around and saw one of the security guards of the venue.

- Yes? - your eyebrows furrowed, as you were utterly confused as to who that man was and what could he possibly want. He came closer and nearly whispered in your ear, which was even weirder.

- Mr. Wolfhard would like to know if you can come backstage. They’re about to finish the show - he said, in a serious tone.

You blinked rapidly a few times. Like wait, what?

- I, um… Sure - you were able to respond. - What do I do?

- Come with me - he said, gesturing for you to follow him.

You followed the guard through a small passage that led backstage, where the dressing rooms were. He opened a door whose sign said “The Aubreys” in bold red lettering.

- Mr. Wolfhard will be with you in a minute, miss. Please wait inside and make yourself comfortable.

- Ok, thank you sir - you responded, entering the room as the guard nodded and shut the door shortly after.

Ok, this was definitely something. Your friends saw you leaving with the guard, but you had no time to explain what happened. You quickly texted “lol mr. wolfhard invited me backstage, ttyl” in your group chat, just so they wouldn’t be worried.

Not long after that, the door opened again.

- Dude, I’m so tired, I could lie on the floor and sleep right now - a shorter, blond-haired boy said, his eyes seeming droopy behind his glasses.

After finishing the sentence, he noticed you.

- Whoa there - he looked at Finn.

- That’s the girl I told you about - Finn said, pointing towards you with his chin.

- Oh - the other boy responded, his eyes widening. - I’ll just grab my stuff and go to the car, ok? I’ll have the driver take me home then you text him when you want him to come back and pick you up.

- Deal - Finn patted the boy on his back. - Get some rest, bud.

The blond boy grabbed his backpack, some other stuff and left, waving you two goodbye. You were a bit awkward there for a moment.

- Sorry about Malcolm - Finn chuckled after his friend shut the door. - He insisted on playing tonight, even though he's a bit sick, so…

- It's ok - you smiled. - It was a great show.

- Aw, really? - he smiled back, happily.

- Totally… I didn’t know you had a band, but I loved it. Indie rock is so up my alley, I’m surprised I hadn’t heard about you guys before.

- I didn’t know such a pretty girl would come see me, I’m surprised I still caught your eye - he tilted his head to the side slightly, playful. - I would’ve dressed nicer if I knew you’d come, you know?

- That does sound a lot like flirting, Mr. Wolfhard… - you chuckled, jokingly slapping his arm.

- Yeah? - he leaned in closer, a naughty little smirk on his face. - That’s good then.

There was something about the way he talked, the way he looked at you, something about his hands or his toned arms, maybe… Everything made you feel so hot, so beautiful, so desired. You couldn’t help but bite your lip.

- So what’s your name, pretty girl? - he grabbed your chin, smiling.

- It’s y/n - you chuckled. - What do I call you? Finn? Finnie?

- Call me what you want - he leaned in even closer. - I intend to call you “mine”, if that’s ok with you.

He was so cocky, his posture was irresistible.

- I’ll just call you “mine” too, then - you reached for his neck, bringing his lips down to the level of your own.

The kiss was slow, at first. His tongue soon asked for entrance and danced with yours, as his hands groped your waist possessively. You grabbed the hair at his nape urgently, pulling his face impossibly closer to yours, savoring his lips, his scent, taking him in as much as you could. Finn Wolfhard was such a good kisser, it was nearly a crime.

His hands then reached down to grope your ass, but he seemed to want a bit more of a direct contact.

- That leather skirt of yours is begging to be tossed to the floor, isn’t it? Poor thing… - he said, reaching for the zipper on your lower back. - Do you mind if I put it out of its misery?

- Do it - your voice was breathy with desire. - But I could say the same about your t-shirt… It also would appreciate the floor very much right now.

He unzipped your skirt, and it soon fell to the floor. You reached for the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it up and off of his body, both garments now keeping each other company on a nearby carpet.

His pale skin was soft to the touch, his chest now taken by your wandering hands. He alternated between fondling your ass and harshly groping it, making you moan into his mouth.

After he satisfied the urgent need to grope you, Finn put his arms under your butt to lift you up and off the floor, carefully depositing your body into a dressing table.

- Is this okay? - he asked, his voice raspy and sensual. - Is my pretty girl comfortable?

- Sure - you nearly moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring his body closer.

He leaned in for another round of heated kisses, and your hands reached for his belt, unbuckling it quickly and immediately unzipping his pants.

- Those pants gotta go, don’t they? - you murmured, enraptured by his touch. - May I? - you inquired, lingering your gaze at his throbbing erection underneath his opened dark jeans.

- You call the shots, babe - he answered, his lips swollen from making out with you. Finn immediately discarded his pants and shoes, taking the time to take off your boots as well.

Soon, his pants were off and so was your shirt: your breasts were now getting covered in open mouth kisses, Finn seemed to be loving them, burying his face in between them. One of his hands went around your back, and his eyes shot up at yours for permission. You nodded lightly, your lips parted, hungry for some more of his touch. He unhooked your bra in a single movement, discarding it quickly.

With both hands, he kneaded your breasts eagerly, suckling into your nipples alternately. You felt like a feast in his hands.

You were both stripped down to your underwear, and Finn didn’t want to waste any time.

- Can these come off too? - he held the sides of your panties, pouting his luscious red lips.

- Only if these come off as well - you ran the sides of your feet at the sides of his boxers.

- Deal - he smirked, gliding the thin fabric of your panties down your smooth legs.

He seemed mesmerized by the sight of your glistening wet pussy. His lips quivering, his mouth nearly agape, his brows furrowed in what could only be described as pure lust. Finn kneeled in front of you, burying his face in between your legs without any further ado.

You let out a high pitched moan at the first flick of his tongue, surprised and pleased. He moaned at the taste of your pussy, making your slit vibrate deliciously in between his lips. You hissed as he kept licking your clit, his tongue circling you with the perfect pressure, the perfect speed… He was simply perfect. An index finger soon entered your drenched hole, pumping in and out of you as his tongue continued its irresistible work. As you came undone, your muscles involuntarily clenched around his finger, causing him to moan even more as he licked you through your high.

- You taste so good - he licked his lips as he stood back up, his finger still pumping in and out of you. - I bet you feel even better.

He took off his finger and held his length up to your soaking wet pussy.

- Can I?

- Yeah - you could manage to moan.

He slowly inserted himself into your tight hole, whimpering and breathing heavily at the feeling. You were even better than he had imagined. You pulled his hips closer, your eyes searching for his, trying to get him to pick up the pace. He noticed what you did, and couldn’t help but oblige.

Finn’s hair gently swayed around his neck as he thrusted, perfect, nearly in slow motion. Damn, that boy had *such* rockstar energy. You kept looking at him, eyes low with lust and pleasure from his movements, but also delighted by his beauty.

His hands grabbed your thighs possessively, harshly, trying to claim them as his. He had such beautiful hands, such a tight grip, ugh… You’d let him do whatever he wanted to do with you at that point.

- You feel so good - you moaned, squeezing him with your cunt.

- Ah, don’t squeeze me like that, baby girl - he gently grabbed your neck. - I can’t cum inside you…

- You could, if you wanted to - you teased, squeezing him again.

- You’re so naughty, princess, what should i do to you? - he removed himself from your pussy, afraid he’d cum too soon.

- Whatever you’d like, babe - you looked at him with a raw, lewd gaze.

Finn’s cock twitched in desire.

- You know, that low cut shirt you were wearing gave me some ideas…

- Oh, yeah?

- Uh-huh - he moistened his lips as his hands reached out for your naked breasts. - Can I put my cock in between them? That’d be so hot…

He squeezed them greedily, lustful.

- Sure, babe - you answered, smirking naughtily, holding yourself in an inviting way.

Finn guided his length into the valley between your breasts, and you pushed them one against the other to accommodate him. He was slick with your fluids already, so it was much easier to glide himself in that tightness you created with your hands.

His size allowed you to get the tip of his cock in between your lips, gently sucking it as he thrusted in between your boobs. His breathing was audible now, he’d even let out a few moans here and there.

You had never felt hotter in your entire life. You felt profane, naughty, lewd, everything. And you loved it.

- Damn, babe - he moaned, breathless. - You’re impossibly hot, can I cum in your mouth already?

You lightly nodded, sticking out your tongue so his tip would leak right in the middle of it. A few moans later, Finn released himself into your mouth, covering your tongue in thick, hot ropes of his cum.

You gently licked his tip clean before swallowing his seed. He was still trying to catch his breath, and the sight of you doing that certainly didn’t help.

- I swear you’re the hottest girl I’ve ever met - he panted.

- It was my pleasure, darling. - you chuckled softly.

Finn helped you get dressed and put his own clothes back on, chatting about the concert and asking some more about your musical taste. It turns out, you both loved The Beatles and wish you had a Time Machine to chill in the 1960’s together.

- Thank you for the evening, y/n - he smiled. - I had a great time.

- So did I - you smiled back at him.

- I’ll get my driver to drop you off at your place, is that ok? - he ran his fingers through your hair, his other hand busy with his phone.

- Sure - you nodded. - That’s very kind.

- No problem - he seemed to open a different tab on his phone. - Now, can I have your number?

He handed you the phone, his eyes bright and kind. You typed in your number carefully, afraid you’d mess up. You handed him back the phone, happy.

Soon, his driver arrived and he kissed you goodbye before you left the venue, just to avoid any remaining paparazzi. You walked to the car, greeted the driver and kept quiet the whole way home, reminiscing what happened. Wow.

Your heart was nearly thumping out of your chest when you finally got home and lied down on your bed after that amazing night. And as you thought it couldn’t get any better, your phone lit up.

New message - unknown number

Hi y/n, it’s Finn. did u get home safe? when can I see u again?

#finn wolfhard smut #finn wolfhard x reader #imagine #mike wheeler x reader #mike wheeler #miles fairchild #smut #trevor spengler #trevor spengler x reader #finn headcanons #finn wolfhard #rockstar girlfriend #and yes i’ve just tagged this rockstar girlfriend cause finn is #he is a rockstar

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arlestial · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, could you make a part two of how the Blue Lock boys make up for the forgotten date? (Nagi,Isagi,Bachira) 🌷

❝if you'd have been the one❞

synopsis : Life is sometimes difficult, keeping them busy and away from you; until it turned to take you away from them.

pairing : Isagi Yoichi, Nagi Seishiro, Bachira Meguru x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : Alternative endings (angst or fluff/comfort)

word count : 4300~ words

author-note : Hi !! I’m so happy y’all liked this, so I decided to write a part II. Some wanted angst, others comfort, so I did both in order to please everyone :) The part I is here ! Thanks for all your kindness, I’m overjoyed to see so much attention on my writings 😭 I hope you’ll like it !! take care of yourself ♡

tag-list : @cecee77, @mandapanda16, @mariyumemi, @someonethatisnobody, @erintaro, @missalienqueen, @8-xnny, @miyanosm, @neuvilletteismybby

ISAGI YOICHI’s eyes widened when he saw your text, after the game. He knew he fucked-up the instant he stepped inside the soccer field, already regretting his decision. He won, but the stadium applause sounded like an awful ringtone that woke him up to reality, a shrill noise crashing his organs and piercing his ears. His heart was racing; not because of the victory, but because of the apprehension. The fear. The panic, that perhaps, he had lost you. But you wouldn’t leave him, right ? Everybody make errors. You would forgive him, no need to stress. At least, that’s what he was trying to convince himself. But in the depths of his own mind, he wasn’t this confident. He took his phone, excusing himself from his teammates that were celebrating, and isolated himself in the corridor. He tried to call, but you refused it twice. He groaned, his hands shaking, trying to tap a text quickly.

22:49p.m. | y/n ♡ : guess you made your choice then.

- read at 00:24a.m.

00:24a.m. | yoichi ♡ : honey please just accept the call

i know I fucked up, I’m sorry

i shouldn’t have done that

- read at 00:33a.m.

00:34a.m. | yoichi ♡ : i know you don’t want to talk to me right now

I’m coming over

- read at 00:38a.m.

00:39a.m. | y/n ♡ : gosh, how savvy and perspicacious of you.

- read at 00:39a.m.

00:40a.m. | yoichi ♡ : here in two minutes

- read at 00:41a.m.

You turned off your phone, completely mad. You clearly didn’t want to talk to him right now, especially this late. He couldn’t care less about you when he was playing on the field; and now, surprisingly, he knew that he fucked up and he regretted it ? Please. You decided to spend the night elsewhere, at your parents, since they were the only ones responding in the middle of the night - they were probably watching a movie at home and were a bit surprised to see you texting them a "hey, can I come over ? got an issue at home" text out-of-the-blue. As you exited your bedroom with a bag filled with spare clothes, you’re met by a raven-haired man, panting, still in his blue jersey, preventing you from leaving the house. He grabbed your waist when you tried to walk past him.

"Isagi, let me go."

"Love, listen. What I did was selfish, I know, it was a terrible mistake."

"So tell me, Isagi, when did you feel regret ? When you stood me up or when I texted you back, making it clear that I was upset ?"

"Actually, from the very first moment my foot landed on the field. But that doesn’t change anything, it’s still shitty of me, and i-"

"But it changes everything, in fact. So, you could’ve turned around. You could’ve joined me at this restaurant, like you promised me, no ? But you didn’t. So you just lied right in front of my face. How bold of you."

He felt like suffocating. You were right. He should’ve refused to play the match, even if there were the most talented players in the world; because you were his lover, goddamnit. He knew you were insecure, because he was rather absent, and he should’ve came to the date he promised to take you to. He was busy with Blue Lock, neglecting you in the process and not setting aside enough time to reassure you like he was supposed to. He wanted you to slap him, to punch him, as hard as you could; he wanted to suffer physically. It was easier to bear physical pain than to handle the mental distress he was in.

"But no, my sweet boyfriend Isagi Yoichi decided to stood me up to play some random game as if he’s not always away from me all the damn time."

"I don’t know why I did that, honestly. It was stupid, and I’m deeply sorry. You know that I love you a lot, right ? You’re the most important thing in my life, and I don’t want to loose you because I’m too immature to think before I-"

"Am I even enough for you ?"

You were losing patience, your tone now sharp, trying to bite away the tears from falling.

"Obviously you are, darling. You are more than enough, and you deserve so much better than me."

He hurried to say, his hands coming to your cheeks, gently stroking them with his thumbs. The concerned look on his face grew rapidly in a desperate, frightened one.

"That doesn’t feel like it. If it was the case, you’d have turned around. Soccer had always been your main interest, and I’ve always been the second. I don’t want to be with a guy that prefers a sport to his own partner."

ISAGI YOICHI had never experienced so much fear in a lapse of time this short. His heart skipped multiple beats - maybe it stopped completely, heavy. He heard the blood rushing in his veins, in his ears, as if the pulsations were the applause of a whole stadium; it was deafening. His breath hitched, goosebumps painting themselves on his clothed arms. Don’t go.

The choice was all yours, now.

↳ Your mind kept telling you that he wasn’t feeling any regret, that he wasn’t really sorry. If this situation presented itself again, he would pick the same decision, leaving you alone, completely by yourself in this stupid restaurant, below the pitiful looks of the waiters, probably whispering at each other who could even stood you up like that. He put distance in your relationship since weeks, months even, ghosting you when he was too tired to send you at least one text to let you know that he loved you still. Regardless of his lack of attention towards you, he wasn’t even capable of respecting his own promises, as he might prefer to play soccer with his friends as usual. And you were just there, always waiting for him, in every situation, waiting for him to come home with a warm smile and a good dinner, sharing kisses, hugs and cuddles on the couch, disappointed when he was reminding you that he’d be gone again in two or three days to return to Blue Lock. You were tired of it. It wasn’t even a relationship at this point.

"I’m not a toy you can play with for some time and then abandon like it’s nothing. My patience is not infinite."

"I never said that. It was an opportunity I couldn’t miss, and I wasn’t enough thoughtful to realize about the consequences of my actions. I just hope you can forgive me for it."

You pushed his wrists away from your face, glaring at him coldly, not wanting to cry for him. You took your bag and walked past him successfully this time, opening the door without giving him a single glance; just stopping in your tracks as you reached the doorknob.

"Goodbye, Isagi. I hope you’ll become the player you desired to be for so long."

You were his motivation, the person he wanted to make proud, the person he wanted to impress when showing his new capacities and his strength. The person he wanted to come home to, everyday, as lovesick as the day before. But now, the tears were flowing silently on his cheeks, as he couldn’t process what he saw. You, closing the door behind yourself, leaving him without any chance of coming back. Because you sincerely realize how much you love someone when you actually lose them.

↳ You tried to push him away, in a faint attempt to show how much you hated him right now. But he just stared at you, his gaze never fading, and he tilted your chin up with his hand. The other went straight to your waist, pressing you against him. Your eyes and his met; and you swore you’ve never saw a fonder look in your entire life. Orbs filled with pure love and softness, enamoured unpronounceable words, a silent plea begging your forgiveness. He leaned and kissed you gently, carefully. When he finally broke the kiss, he took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers together, pressing multiple kisses on the back of your hand without breaking the eye contact you both were sharing.

"You deserve someone better, honey. And I want- no, I will become this someone, that will love you properly. I promise you this - and if I break this promise, I swear, you can kill me however you like, it’s up to you."

You bit back a chuckle, amused by his words; but on the depths of your heart, you were fully aware that he was genuine.

"I’ll never disappoint you again. You’re the love of my life, I couldn’t handle loosing you. I’m sorry for what I did, again. I’m an asshole. Really."

He kissed your forehead with so much tenderness, a tenderness you missed during his long absence. He peppered kisses on your face, his grip on your waist tightening, as if you were going to slip away from him. He whispered something else, not daring to break the eye-contact,

"I’d rather watch the whole world burn and experience an endless suffering that having you leaving me for good."

NAGI SEISHIRO tried everything. After multiple unanswered calls and messages left on “seen”, he noticed that you’ve blocked him. He sighed, staring at his ceiling. Was it the end ? He tried to forget you, he really did. He tried to convince himself that you weren’t this important. He tried to wake-up each morning without searching for you underneath the sheets, only to find a cold bed next to him. Occupying his thoughts with games, movies, series, even soccer, wasn’t enough anymore. He needed you in his arms, and he was willing to do every single thing imaginable to get you back.

You were at one of your friend’s apartment, enjoying some time with her watching your favorite series. She left the couch to get you a drink, mumbling a quick "pause the episode, I don’t wanna miss it" before hurrying to the kitchen. You smiled, and did as she asked; until you heard a knock on the door. You frowned.

"You ordered take-out ?", you called your friend from the couch, questionably.

"Nah, I didn’t. Told you we were going to one of my friends’ restaurant this evening."

She came back from the kitchen, two glasses filled in her hands, her brows furrowed. She put them on the table, glancing at the door.

"Who is it then ?"

"Don’t know. Wait, be right back.", she quickly turned around, walking towards the door, and opening it slightly. Her face went blank in approximately 2 seconds, and she gulped.

"Um.. Well, that’s awkward."

You couldn’t hear correctly what your friend said to the stranger; you could only hear a low voice, that sounded awfully familiar. So, you decided to get up, trying to get a peek of the tall figure standing in the corridor.

Your eyes widened.

The series was long forgotten on the screen, the voices echoing between the walls, as you stared, dumbfounded, at him.

Seishiro.

Your friend shifted uncomfortably, deciding to leave you both alone for some privacy as she promptly went to her room. You didn’t know what to say. What to think. But the dark bags under his eyes, that looked stern and empty, his hair even more messy than before, gave you relatively an idea of how the two passed weeks had been for him.

"What are you even doing here, Nagi ?"

Ouch. The use of his name instead of his first name was abysmal; but a relieved sigh escaped from his lips. Finally. Your voice. It sounded so much better than your voicemail, that he had listened every night after you left him in your shared apartment.

"I’m sorry. I- I’m really, fucking sorry for what I did. I miss you, Y/N. I can’t-"

"Nagi, stop. I can’t do this right now."

You cut him instantly, trying to close the door. Well, trying, because he refrained you from doing so, laying his whole strength on the door to keep you from leaving him again.

"Please, Y/N, at least, hear me out."

His voice was pleading, begging even; as much as your heart broke with his wobbly words, you didn’t know what to think, what to say. You bit your inside cheek, wondering what to do, now that he was so close to you, after all this time.

NAGI SEISHIRO looked at you dead in the eye, his own blackish orbs watering at the sight of your frame standing in front of him. His hand wandered to your cheek, his fingertips almost grazing your smooth skin that he missed so bad, as if you were made of real porcelain. Porcelain that he’d break with only one feather touch. So he held back.

"I missed you so much," his voice broke, approaching you hesitantly. "So fucking much. I’m sorry for neglecting you and taking you for granted all the time, I’m sorry I didn’t give you the attention you deserved, the attention you needed. I need you to come back to me. I can’t live without you, baby."

Forgiving him was a tough choice. Your heart was aching at the sight of tears rolling down his cheeks. You’ve never seen Nagi cry before, at least, not cries of pain. But he hurt you, he really did. These two weeks were just obnoxious to him, but they were worse to you. Seeing his texts, his calls, deciding to block him anyway - it was laborious, to say the least, because your feelings for him were still there, haunting your mind constantly, day and night.

The choice was all yours, now.

↳ How could you just forgive him like that ? After all he did ? Sure, you meant a lot to him, but did you mean more than anything else ? You were always second, never the first, and it became clearer each day that passed that you weren’t as important as you thought you would be for him. He didn’t even made time for you in his oh-so-important schedule, focusing on soccer and his fucking games, hanging out with his friends who knows where, instead of you. He chose it. It wasn’t random. You weren’t his priority at all. Sitting patiently on the couch, staring at the door with this constant lovesick gaze, waiting for him to return to finally go on your well promised date. But he never returned. And you weren’t going to return either. It was enough.

"You know what ? You were the first thing in my mind, everyday. You always have been the first person I was thinking of in whatever situation I was in. The only voice I wanted to hear, the only person I wanted to see, the only gaze I wanted to get lost in - now don’t tell me you feel the same."

"I do-", but you immediately cut him off, anger taking the best of you.

"You’re a freaking liar. What’s the next step, uh ? You’re going to promise me you’ve changed ? You think I’m stupid or something ? I’m not naive, Nagi, I’ve never been your priority and I’ll never be."

"You don’t understand, Y/N. I’ve been busy, you’re right, but give me a second chance. I promi- I’ll not make the same mistake again, that’s for sure. I realized that you were extremely important to me, more important that I’d like to admit actually, I can’t bear seeing you without me at your side, it just hurts too much. I’m just asking for a second chance."

"As much as it hurts to say, it’s over. I’m not going to give you a second chance when I knew damn well that it’ll not change anything. If you needed time to process your love for me, I’m definitely going to give you time to process it even more."

His eyes widened when he saw you slowly closing the door, in a faint attempt of ending the discussion.

"No, wait, I beg-"

"Move on. It won’t be so difficult anyway, spend some time with your friends and your games, you’ll soon forget about me."

He was now staring at the wooden door of the apartment, tears streaming down his features. He lost you for good this time. And he finally understood how it felt to receive the same treatment that he gave you; to be abandoned by your lover when you needed them the most.

↳ Seeing him in tears didn’t really help your case. Your heart burnt, and you soon felt yourself tearing up, your vision blurred. You let out a broken sob, to which he responded with a call of your name - desperate, probably as broken as your cries - and he embraced you tightly, his nose nuzzling on your neck, sighing when he finally touched you, melting in the loveable hold he wished to feel again. He kept repeating the same apologies, the same confessions of love, hoping it’d soothe your tears.

"I don’t want to hurt you ever again," he mumbled, stroking the back of your hair gently, "I’ll never hurt you ever again.", he assured with a shaky voice.

He kissed your temple softly, still holding you close to him, your head resting on his chest.

"It’ll be the last time I’ll ever put something above you. You’re the most important thing to me - I can’t live without your presence near me all the time. I’m sorry I just realized that I needed to tell you this now. I should’ve known you deserved to hear it properly,"

"You’ll be my highest priority from now on, as it should’ve been from the very beginning, angel."

BACHIRA MEGURU was anxious. At first, he decided to give you space. He hated arguments with you, always trying to avoid them, and he thought that distancing himself might help the situation. Spoiler alert, it didn’t. Sweaty palms grabbing his phone, and immediately turning it off, utterly incompetent. He didn’t want to argue, to entertain a conflict with you; he prefered your smiles and your soft giggles in tickle fights. He missed them. The sound of your hard laughs, the look of your teasing grins. However, he couldn’t bring himself to text you, nor to call you, afraid that you’d pronounce a dry "it’s over". He couldn’t handle the pain, and avoiding it wasn’t the best idea to fix the issue. Meanwhile, it had been 3 weeks, you were now nearly convinced that your relationship with him had come to an end. No texts, no calls, no attempts to see you, you founded it weird, but you didn’t question it. It worried you a bit, yeah, but you weren’t going to chase after him if he didn’t want to talk about it. You were more hurt than worried; after all your moments together, the shared memories and the heavy feelings, he just moved on this easily ? Even though it was totally his fault ? You just scoffed when your friends asked about him, hiding your devasted state behind a mocking tone, saying it was probably over now. You waited for a message all the time, staring at the screen, angry fat tears rolling down your cheeks in frustration. What an asshole.

"You never texted them ? Bachira, are you crazy ?"

Isagi exclaimed, in utter shock. They were in his bedroom, Isagi was sitting on his bed, unable to process what Bachira just told him. The usually joyful man paced around, his face in his hands.

"I- I didn’t know what to say ! I fucked up really bad this time, I was scared of losing them."

"Man, you definitely lost them now. It’s been 3 weeks, you should’ve said something earlier !", Isagi replied, nearly strangling himself in desbelief.

"I know. What should I do ?"

"Bachira..", he sighed, biting his lip in despair, "it’s probably too late now. They’re most likely thinking that you don’t love them anymore or that you moved on."

"But I didn’t ?", Bachira whined when Isagi stood up and smacked his head, annoyed. Isagi mumbled something inaudible, probably about his naivety or his stupidness, again.

"But that’s what it looks like, bro. You stood them up, and they got no news from you, don’t be stupid. Everyone would think the same thing."

Bachira gulped. He was right. And without hesitation, he ran away from his home, heading towards your place, in hope you would accept his apologies. He never sprinted this fast in his entire life, his muscles burning, his ankles aching from the impact of his feet against the stiff concrete of the streets he was running in. The road seemed even longer than usual, and when he finally arrived on your doorstep, he was panting, his hands shaking as he hesitantly knocked. He felt nauseous. Emotions overwhelmed him when he finally saw your form opening the door with a worried look.

"Meguru ? What are you even doing here ?"

He immediately took you in his arms, his head buried in the crook of your neck, breathing-in your comfortable scent, relieved. You yelped in surprise, not reciprocating the hug.

"I missed you so much."

He muttered, still trying to catch his breath. You frowned, surprised by his presence.

"It had been 3 weeks, Meguru. It’s a bit late to come here."

"I know. I should’ve come earlier. I’m so sorry, Y/N. Please, forgive me ? I promise I won’t do it again !"

BACHIRA MEGURU didn’t want to let go of you, choosing to hold you even tighter, letting his tears soak your shirt. He couldn’t care less about crashing your bones with just arms; if it was possible, he’d live in your skin. That seemed creepy, to say the least, but he enjoyed over-proximity with you, and he couldn’t bear to be apart from you anymore.

The choice was all yours, now.

↳ After 3 weeks, seriously ? You pushed him off of you, clearly not amused by his whines. You just felt anger, disappointment, embarrassment.

"Meguru, you left me alone for 3 weeks straight, and now you’re coming unannounced as if it was actually common ?"

"You don’t understand, Y/N !! I was too anxious of your reaction after our argument. I didn’t know how to deal with the guilt I felt, I didn’t know how to apologize properly.."

"No, you don’t understand. You really think that ghosting and ignoring people as if they never existed was a solution ? I should be the one to do that, not you. You’re always avoiding conflict and I’m so sick of it."

"I know-"

"No, you don’t !", you sneered, taking a long breath to soothe your nerves, "You never did. You haven’t remembered our anniversary - and it’s not the only thing you’ve forgotten along the way. You never took our conversations seriously, you never put any attention in our memories and our celebrations for them. I don’t want to be with someone who’s not even capable of being mindful of our important moments together and of our special dates. If it’s not important to you, alas, it is for me. I won’t give up another thing, especially if it’s something that is dear to me."

"It’s important for me, I swear. I just don’t know how to show it correctly."

"Then learn. But you can count me out."

You opened the door, leaving a broken Bachira behind, reaching after you. But you turned to stop him, giving him a quick nod, a silent no. The weak smile on your face shushed the golden-eyed boy. And he understood.

"I wish you the best, Meguru."

↳ You bit your inside cheek. Always giving promises he couldn’t keep, with a beam and butterfly kisses. And as much as you loved him, you didn’t know if you could tolerate it again, if your heart could handle another betrayal.

"You’re always promising the same things, but you’re never actually changing.", you argued.

"I can. I know I disappointed you, and you have every right to be upset. I’m trying my best, learning to manage my feelings and my habits is hard and tough, but I’ll do it for you. I’m really trying, Y/N,", he said, his voice breaking slightly, "I’m not used to this. It’s- you’re my first love, and I really hope you’ll be my last. I don’t have any experience in terms of relationships. If dates are important to you, I’ll make all the efforts in the world to make them special and memorable. I want to grow old with you, so please, give me one last chance to prove you that I’m worth it."

You hesitated for some seconds. He wasn’t the type to lie, and right now, he sounded strangely serious. It felt out-of-character, but you needed it to actually make up a decision.

"Fine. But it’s your last chance.", you finally whispered,

"Yes ma’am. Trust me on this one, I’ll make you proud of my work."

He sighed, relieved, immediately peppering your face with kisses. You giggled, trying to push him away.

"Gosh, I missed this sound. Oh- and I’m taking you on a date after; that’s the least I can do. I love you to the moon and to saturn, Y/N. Thank you for everything."

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arceus-insanity · 2 months ago

Note

Something I never particularly liked about Endeavor's atonement, is that he never gave or gave up anything he actually wanted.

Like Endeavor was always willing to risk his life and limb as a hero, so any life-threatening risks or bodily harm he receives is just part of the job he was always willing to do from the beginning.

Him building a house for his remaining family members, only he won't be there?

Endeavor never cared whether he lived with his family or not, all that mattered to him was creating the strongest hero in Shoto.

So he never showed any want to be with his family until Shoto was already on his way to being a great hero.

It was barely an afterthought to him that was never followed through on.

The ending only makes all this worse, because it looks like he replaced each member of his family that he lost with heroes, the people he really wanted to be around...

Fuyumi = Burnin, onima = Natsuo, Hawks = Touya

Shoto on the path to heroic success.

And Rei there too, I guess for some reason???

Just wheeling him around...

Do you feel similarly or different about all this?

DING DING DING We have a winner!

Endeavor never has to sacrifice anything, he never chooses his family over his precious number one spot. He only even remembered they existed after he got his Precious.

And something I noticed is he is full of shit, and believes his own shit.

Like he thinks that 'oh I'll make a house for all my family members to live in' (Which we never see happen, so once again empty bullshit as always). But he never asks them what they want, it is incredibly bold to assume they would all want to live together, or even be able to with their careers, and if the kids want to start their own families. We also know Shoto likes traditional Japanese flooring, but what about the rest of them, and does Endeavor even know that?

One thing I've never seen anyone call out is his manipulative gaslighting speech to Natsuo after being rescued from Ending. He says that he didn't save Natsuo because he didn't want to make like Natsuo feel like he has to forgive him, only to without hesitation force him into a hug. So fucking much for respecting Natsuo's autonomy.

And this ain't the first time this lazy coward has froze when his kids are in immediate danger, we see him standing safely outside the flames with his fire resistance while Touya who's weak to fire burned on the peak. With Endeavor of course claiming 'he did everything he could'.

We also find out he harrassed Fuyumi into giving him Shoto's, his fucking masterpiece, number. Which he uses to text Shoto, in the middle of not just his workday, but fucking class hours! So much is wrong with this, this doesn't make him look good or show any atonement or redemption. What it does is make me think a lot less of both this excuse of a human being and his daughter (The start of her enabler arc). He's doubling down on past behaviour, quite stupidly I might add. And why the fuck did he need to get it from Fuyumi? Presumably, he's the one paying for the phone, he should just have the number from that!

Once again this man openly admits he only offered the work-study to Deku and Bakugou to manipulate Shoto. And constantly favors him when it comes to teaching. Understanding Deku's word vomit isn't difficult, even with him stupidly over-explaining it

What we don't see (or hear of) is him doing anything for or with Fuyumi, the only kid that wants anything to do with him (despite her character profile saying she resents him)

He is constantly given credit for shit he actively isn't doing!

But he and the narrative constantly throw him a pity party the second consequences are even hinted at. Not to mention he is also constantly rewarded for his (non-existent) efforts, Shoto chooses to work with him, Rei forgives him, Hawks, Burnin, Best Jeanist, etc are around to lick his boots clean and make sure he doesn't have to face any of those hinted at consequences. Boo fucking Hoo, the League (and specifically Dabi in this) deserved to win, and by the end, I was convinced that they would have been better for society

#bnha critical #bnha #mha critical #bnha meta #mha #anti endeavor #my hero academia #mha meta #boku no hero academia #anti enji todoroki

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starmapz · 3 days ago

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you know, i wasn't going to make a post about this so as not to give this anon the satisfaction of a response, but they've been blocked so they won't see this anyway and i think there's a bigger issue to address here.

i want to start by saying that i've got thick skin and this doesn't affect me in the way they clearly would like it to. it says much more about them than it does about me and i've got bigger fish to fry than some insecure anon.

what i DO want to address is the fact that i've seen more and more posts popping up lately about how some people need to be nicer to authors and while this applies not just to authors but to everyone, i do feel it's worth mentioning that in all honesty i'm glad this came to me and not someone who may be put down by a message like this. i know the anon button tends to make some people much more bold but if at any point you ever think of sending anon hate to someone, maybe take a moment to consider how foolish of a notion that is.

on the topic of authors in particular, please bear in mind that we do this for free, in our spare time. i work a full time job, this is just a fun hobby for me. imagine if you shared your hobby with the world and someone anonymously told you it was bad, how would that make you feel? i'm quite fortunate that this sort of thing doesn't get to me but that doesn't make it any nicer of a message.

on a much lighter and somewhat unrelated note, i also received a very nice text from a wrong number around the same time as i read this message, so i think they cancel one another out lmao. just thought that was funny.

anyway, sorry for the much more serious post than my usual content, but please, as a reminder, be nice to authors, and for that matter be nice to everyone. you never know what someone else is going through, and even if you do, it's no excuse to be hateful or rude.

#starmapz #trish talks #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk writing #jjk author #jujutsu kaisen writing #jujutsu kaisen author

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angelgoeslewd · 1 year ago

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skirt.

🔮 summary: Diavolo, Simeon, Solomon, and Raphael love when you wear a skirt.

⚠️ warnings: 18+ content, minors DNI, skirt wearing, AFAB! reader, fingering, public sex, exhibitionism, spell sex.

DIAVOLO:

if there’s one thing good about entrusting your heart to the leader of the Devildom, it’s that Diavolo will never, ever, hide anything from you. this includes how worked up he gets when you he sees you in your school skirt.

he’ll hug you from behind in the morning, as you try and get ready for your classes, telling you if you’re dressed like that, better not to even leave the bed at all, his hand trailing up your thigh, ruffled the skirt up to your hip and flashing your panties at him.

you don’t understand it. you tell him countless times that he’s seen you in it before and this time should be no different, but he just can’t help him! the way it flutters around your thighs, how it rests perfectly on the curve of your ass, how he can nearly see the line of your panties… it drives him wild. expect him showing up in places just to get another look at you. and to make sure no one else gives you the same looks he does.

if he jokes about you sitting on his lap at lunch, DO IT. you’ll get to watch your perfect, eloquent prince freeze up and strain to create sentences. you can feel his cock pressing into you, and his face darkens with color and the promise to ruin you as soon as he can. you wonder if you’re in over your head.

he’s got you pressed up against the bathroom wall, strong hands on your hip, helping you press into his thigh as you grind on him. “That’s it, baby,” he whispers into your ear, “Wet those pretty little panties for me, let me see if drip down your thighs. I’ll lick it up for you after.” everyone else thinks you’ve gone to help Diavolo with human student affair matters. you aren’t sure this is what they had in mind. his cock presses into the front of your cunt, you reach for it, whining for something to fill you, but he grabs your hand away, shoving it above your head. “This is about you right now. Show me how naughty my pretty girl can get.”

make you cum on his thigh until it leaks out of your panties. he’s a cruel lover sometimes. he gives you a kiss and tells you to enjoy the rest of your day, he’s got to go back to the castle since Barbatos is finally forcing him to do work.

you’ll still be fucked into the bed tonight, but if you want your night to be non-stop from the time Diavolo gets home and rips the skirt in two, right off of you, to the next morning, text him ‘updates’ of your pussy with an upskirt view. Barbatos will not appreciate how much Diavolo rushed all his work though.

SIMEON:

you? in a skirt? that’s one way to ensure this man is all over you. Simeon isn’t one for PDA, preferring to keep all your shared, loving touches for when it’s just the two of you, but when you wear a skirt, he just can’t help himself.

it exposes your soft legs, gives him memories of the night before, having them tossed over his shoulder, his hand gently holding them, leaning his head over to kiss them as he rocks into you, guiding you to your orgasm.

his reserved nature doesn’t allow him to say anything to you on the matter, but you definitely notice how he glances at your ass you more frequently during those days, making up excuses to having his hands pressed to your thighs — “Oh, this problem isn’t correct,” he murmurs, leaning over you and using your leg for stability. he tries to distract you from his caressing by going a little too in depth on the answer, but you know your boyfriend by now. you can tell when he wants something, and smile coyly, playing along while your own hand rests on his, guiding it up your skirt further.

his face colors as you get more bold, spreading your legs when he reaches your panties, letting him feel the sticky wetness that he’s created. the library around you two are none the wiser, when his fingers push the thin fabric to the side and press into you slowly. it’s a sleepy pace, Simeon being cautious and inexperienced, but the heat in you is slowly building with his unwavering enthusiasm, the way he presses his fingers deep in you, pulling out only to rub your clit, almost as if telling you he owns this part of you, this pleasure he creates.

when you’re close, grab his wrist and gasp his name. the things he will do to you when he sees your slick drip out of you onto your skirt as he pulls his fingers out of you will be unimaginable, even for him. his gaze pins you to your chair, you’ve never seen such a look on your boyfriend’s face. such desire, such… heat. he’s smiling and asking if you’re ready to go home, but you can tell he’s on the verge of cracking.

you’re lucky Simeon has the willpower to get home and take you as soon as he gets you into the bed. you’ll never know how he almost pushed you into an alley, pulled out his cock, and stroked himself until he came all over that pretty little skirt of yours.

SOLOMON

the second most obvious one. I’d call him the first, since he’s the most bold, telling you straight up how much he likes you in your skirt, but Diavolo is more obvious when it comes to how it affects him.

Solomon sees this as a challenge. a game between you and him to see who can break first. which is why he’ll tell you in the first place, to be honest. he wants to see your cheeks flush when he leans down and whispers his crude words to you in the lunch line, the teasing, dangerous undertone of his unsaid promise teetering on the verge of being a threat.

he is the most touchy of them all, not even trying to hide how he gets his hands all over you, maybe to your embarrassment. when mammon is calling him out on it, it’s a lot. he tells the demon to mind his own business and to stop looking at his darling apprentice in such a manner, but doesn’t make any move to keep his hands off your waist and to himself.

will flip up your skirt. only does it when he’s the only one behind you, but does it to get a reaction out of you. you’re seeing a pattern here. when Solomon wants attention, he gets absolutely unbearable. whether it’s his underhanded comments, being physically a nuisance, or the way you can tell he’s planning something, it’s really up to you how long you want to let this go on. want to try and make it through the school day? sure, but it won’t be easy with your sorcerer interjecting himself into everything you do. the more you try to ignore him, the harder he’ll try.

want a way to get him back? ask him to try his new spell out on you, watch his eyes light up with delight at your suggestion, and sit back to enjoy the show. if you can.

see, being a sorcerer, you sometimes come across magic that was simply made for the user’s pleasure and have almost no way to test it out. of course, when he has you…

being able to feel your cunt around him, despite being across the room from you. it’s exactly the payback he deserves. you can watch him strain to keep a level expression, his jaw clenched as he feels your wet heat holding him securely. you can feel a phantom of a cock throbbing inside of you, wondering if you’ll make Solomon come in his pants. shift around to watch him try and stifle groans at your action. he’s a bad sport, however, and if he starts to lose, he quickly dissipate the spell.

it’ll only keep him at bay for a small time, however, and while you can keep doing it, Solomon is just going to get better at playing. he’ll turn it around on you quickly, so you better make arrangements to get him off or he’ll make you miserable.

and the only he’ll accept as an ‘apology’ for your behavior towards your ‘mentor’ is letting him cum in you and letting it leak out of you so it ruins your skirt.

RAPHAEL

whew, boy. here we go. there’s a good chance you never realize how your clothing choice affects your angel. mainly because Raphael avoids you. to the point of where you almost never see him throughout the day because he just leaves the room whenever he spots you. and no one calls him out on it because, well. it’s Raphael. no one knows what he’s thinking.

seriously? what the hell. he always does this when you wear skirts, too. and you’re getting rather sick of it, to be honest. you just want to at least SEE him. and treating you like a wild animal he has to be wary around isn’t very healthy of him, no matter what his problem is with you. ESPECIALLY when it’s coming from him, the celestial creature who makes demons quiver and whatnot.

cornering him is probably the only option. sometimes he has such a good poker face and is so good at turning tail that not even Simeon can help you. he tells you just to ask Raphael about it, since, “He probably won’t… can’t lie, to you, of all people.” whatever that means. so you have to go on an angel hunt.

so you do. it takes a while, but you find him in the gardens, sitting, attempting to read a book, you say attempting because you can tell he’s not having much success by the knit of his brow. you almost don’t do it, since he seems irritated enough, but work up your courage when he sees you and immediately closes his choice of material and tries to leave again.

“Really? You’re going to try and avoid me again?” he at least has the decency to look ashamed.

“I… I’m not avoiding you.” bullshit. he’s sweating. his one tell.

“So what do you call leaving every time I come into a room, then?”

“Trying to maintain my dignity.” what. the fuck. does that even mean. he can tell you’re flabbergasted, confused, and fed up with his behavior, so he sighs, finally giving in and sitting down on the bench. “When… you wear stuff like this,” he admits, shyly, dog-earing a page back and forth between his fingers, “It makes me feel. A certain way.”

you blink. oh. oh. so that’s why he…

you get it. he’s an Angel. you can’t expect that from him, not when his role is so dire to his world. it would be like asking him to give up his job, his very being for existence for you. you realize then why he was trying to distance himself. to excuse himself from such emotions for a human creature. you won’t see bad history repeat itself in the man you love.

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I...” had such an effect on you. now that it’s out, you feel embarrassed at your rash actions, not even taking the time to consider what Raphael was going through. it’s the same reason why you hesitate at calling him your boyfriend, he’s got more on his shoulders then you could ever imagine, and you can’t ask him to give it all up for you. “I’m… just gonna go.”

his hand shoots out and grips your wrist at an impossible speed, his eyes widening at the thought of you leaving. it melts your heart and worries you all at once.

“No, no… you’re already here. And it wasn’t right of me not to tell you. It wasn’t fair. You should know,” he says, looking away from you as he adds, “And I miss you.”

your heart flutters, yearning to be close to him, and you let yourself sit next to him, daring to sit so close that your arms touch. “I missed you too. It’s why I was so upset. I thought you were angry at me or I did something wrong-”

“Nothing like that,” he murmurs, picking his book up again. he flips to a random page, but after a while of sitting and enjoying his company, you can tell he isn’t reading. he keeps glancing at your legs, your skirt dipping where you’ve spread them slightly to make yourself comfortable.

“Raphael…?” his eyes flicker up to meet yours. you didn’t realize the extent of his words. it’s almost smoldering, how much heat and desire fills his ocean eyes. it runs through you as deep and as quick as his spear could, the threat of something equal parts dangerous and exciting. you can’t help yourself, wanting to indulge in this emotion from him that you don’t get to see very often. you reach over slowly, closing his book, letting your fingers linger on the edge. his lips are inches from yours, hot breath fanning over your own.

there’s no one around to tell if he breaks.

[psst . . . if you liked Raphael’s part and want more, there’s a continuation here!]

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mavrintarou · 1 year ago

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[4:44 PM] Suna Rintarou

Quickly whipped this because I'm trying to find an excuse to not go to the gym. Nothing edited. I know all I ever post about is Rin, Rin, Kiyoomi, Shinsuke, and Rin again... he was just too fitting for this. I'm really trying to expand my fantasy to the other characters.

Warning: Angst, asshole Rin, makeup smut contents .

Rintarou let out a frustrated sigh having been blocked once again. That was three times now in a row.

“Shake it off!” he heard his teammate shout.

“Suna!” Turning his head, he can see his coach signaling for him to rotate out, switching with his other teammate.

As soon as he was off the court, his coach jerked his head, indicating for him to take the empty seat beside him. “What’s going on?”

Rintarou inhales sharply, “bad day, I guess?” He knew what was going on, just didn’t want to speak of it.

“Well, turn that bad day into a good day, shake it off, everyone needs you.” His coach pats his shoulder, “do whatever you gotta do.”

EPJ Raijin lost their second set, this third game will determine their win or not.

With a towel over his head, Rin zoned out, tuning out the sound of the crowd and everything else around him. The only thing on his mind was Y/n.

Three weeks ago, they abruptly ended their casual fling.

No matter how many times he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t his fault, it was definitely, his fault.

He is a hypocrite.

He was the one who said just casual sex. No feelings.

But the moment he saw her at a table with another man he did not recognize at one of Matsumoto’s top restaurants, he lost his shit.

How dare she doll up and wear a red dress, the red dress he purchased for her to go on a date with this mother fucker.

He watched as Y/n looked at her phone, the smile on her face immediately disappeared. Rin looked down at his phone, seeing the Read underneath the photo he sent her.

Y/n glanced up, her eyes scanning the room until they met his. He arched an eyebrow at her, and she responded by tilting her head, mirroring his expression perfectly.

Bathroom. Now. He texted.

Rin didn’t need to look back to see Y/n following him shortly as he made his way to the restroom.

He tugged her into the private room, locking the door behind him. “Really?” His eyes scanned her from head to toe.

“Really,” Y/n smiled, and she gave him a spin. “Do you not like it?”

Y/n knew how to rile him up, making the green jealous monster within him wake up and flip a table.

Rin stalked towards her, noticing how her smile slowly faded as she stepped back until she hit the counter of the sink. He pressed himself against her, sandwiching her between him and the counter. His fingers trail along her jaw, “does your date know that I purchased this dress and that I’ve fucked you while you were wearing it?”

“Be careful Rintarou,” she only used his full name when she was serious, “jealousy looks good on you but some might believe you’ve developed feelings for me.”

She has become bold, voicing her feelings each day.

Rin was not oblivious. He knows this casual fling between them needs to end. He wasn’t blind to her recent advances.

How her eyes twinkle for him when he comes over.

How she holds him tighter when he’s rocking deeply inside her.

How she whispers his name with love.

How she kisses his palms before a game, giving him luck.

She is expressing her love for him in every possible way except through words. Because the moment she played that card, he would end the game.

“You’re becoming delusional, Y/n.” He gritted, his lips smirking, “I will admit I am jealous, should I show you how jealous I am?”

They glared at one another, Y/n looking deep into his eyes, searching for the man she fell in love with. Deep down, she knew her place. “Do it,” she whispered, “I dare you.”

His eyes darken and she’s flipped around in a blink of an eye. She sees in the mirror as Rin tugs her dress up, bunching it at her hips, his fingers immediately graze over the thin lacy thong, circling her clit.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, biting down on her lip to prevent herself from moaning. “Hurry, I have my date I need to get back to.”

“As you wish.”

Y/n half gasped and yelped at his hand and slapped her right ass cheek. Her thong is pushed to the side as feels his cock sliding in between her thighs.

“You’re soaked, was it me or him?” He began rocking, thrusting in between her thighs. He pulled her against him, locking an arm around her shoulder. He locked eyes with her through the mirror, “answer me.”

“You.” Y/n whispered, “you made me this wet…” she whimpered when he rolled his hips, his cock grazing against her clit. “Please… Rin…”

His teeth nips her earlobe as he reached in between them and align his cock to her pussy and slipped inside in one swift thrust. He wastes no time pounding into her from behind. Y/n’s hand comes to cover her mouth.

His groans are heavy against her ear and he hated it, hated how she made him feel. His teeth bite down on her skin, biting down hard until he can feel Y/n flitching and tightening around his cock.

Rin pulls away, satisfied by his mark, knowing it would be visible. He pauses his movement for a second, maneuvering her until she is bent forward before him. His grip on her hips tightened as he resumed his thrusts, pounding until the small bathroom echoed only of their skin slapping.

Y/n drops onto her elbow, head falling forward as her moans are muffled by her hands. He was thrusting deep inside her, triggering her orgasm faster than usual. “Ri – Rin…” she whimpered, a hand reaching behind to push against his abdomen. “Too fast…”

He gripped her wrist and thrust faster until the moment he felt her pussy flutter around his cock.

“Ah,” he groaned coming undone, pounding into her slowly yet hard with each ejaculation. His eyes suddenly widened, “fuck.”

He forgot to wear a condom.

He let go of her wrist and immediately withdrew, his cock was coated with their essence. It wasn’t a time for his cock to twitch lively again at the sight of his cum leaking down Y/n’s pussy and down her thighs.

He swore again, half turned on and half pissed off at himself.

He always wore a condom.

“Here,” he slammed a few bills on the counter, “get yourself the pill. Let’s end this.”

Rin groaned, covering his face. He was such a fucken asshole.

He glanced down at his palms, feeling disheartened by his poor performance, and was convinced that it was all because Y/n hadn’t kissed his palms before the game.

His mind flashed back to the very first time she had done it. She had come to his game, and just before it started, she called his name and took hold of his wrists. Rin looked at her confused, but she gently turned his palms upward and pressed her lips to the center of his hand. “Good luck kisses,” she whispered with a smile.

“Hey, look it’s Y/n.”

Rin’s head snapped up, and he swiftly removed the towel from his head. Before him stood Motoya, gazing towards the crowd behind Rin. In response, Rin pivoted his upper body and scanned the bustling crowd. “Where?”

“Right there!” Motoya pointed.

Rin’s gaze tracked his pointed finger until it intersected with the eyes of the pair he longed for so intensely.

As if caught in the act, she hastily concealed her face and attempted to make a swift getaway.

“Y/n!” Rin roared over the loud music and crowd chatter, chasing after her. He hopped over the barriers and ascended the stairs with determination. “Y/n!” he called out once more, steadily closing the gap between them as she weaved through the crowd.

Finally, reaching his limit, he lengthened his strides and snagged her wrist, gently drawing her into his embrace. “Stop, please don’t run,” he implored softly. His arms constricted around her, one hand tenderly cradling the back of her head. “Please don’t go,” he whispered.

She remained tensed in his embrace and softly uttered, “you’re the one who walked away.”

“I know, I’m a fucken fool. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I left you. Please,” he pulled away, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Please come back to me, I am a mess without you. I need you, Y/n. I –” he blinks the tears back, “I’m in love with you, please come back to me, please.”

Her eyes widen, hearing the words she longed to hear. Tears filled her pretty eyes as she closed them, letting the tears fall down her cheeks before she nodded her head.

Rin sighed in relief and hugged her once more, “thank God. I love you. I love you, Y/n. I love you so fucken much and it took walking away from you to realize I am in love with you all this time.” He leaned back to cup her face, “please, can I kiss you?”

She extended her hand to gently cup his face, drawing him down to meet her lips. Their mouths danced in a graceful, passionate exchange until they parted, both gasping for breath. Their lips inches apart, “I love… I love you too, Rin. I loved you for a long time.”

“I know, I know baby.” He pressed his lips against hers again. “I’m never letting you go again.”

Y/n nodded, “promise?”

“Yeah, promise.”

Her eyes widened and she leaned back, “Rin don’t you have a – “

“Suna! Where the fuck did you go? The third set is about to start!”

Rin’s mouth never once left Y/n as they stumbled into his apartment. He pulled away briefly to tug off his shirt before his mouth resumed hungrily against hers.

In the grueling third set, EPJ Raijin fought valiantly, shedding blood and sweat, and managed to secure a hard-fought victory. Finally, with the fortunate kisses pressed onto his palm by his beloved, Rin executed his spikes flawlessly, scoring nine crucial points that contributed to their triumphant win.

His hands rest on Y/n’s hips, guiding her backward towards the hall of his place and into his bedroom. He is nervous, almost shy at standing half naked before her. “I… I didn’t get to shower after the game – do you want to shower together?”

Her lips curved upward as she grabbed his hand leading him into his bathroom. She quickly stripped her clothes off and turned on the shower, looking over her shoulder, Rin stood there gawking as if he had never seen her naked before. “You coming?”

He quickly pushed down his joggers and boxers, striding into the shower with her. The water cascaded down their bodies as she reached for his body wash to spread it all over his body.

Rin caught her wrist that was lathering his chest with body wash and brought it down to his cock, he closed her hand around it. He hissed feeling his cock harden from her touch. “Y/n,” he murmured, slowly thrusting into her hand.

Y/n stepped closer, pressed her lips to his left nipple, sucking it gently and swirling her tongue around the bud. Her hand tightens around his cock as she strokes him faster.

He hissed, reaching with his other hand to find her clit, “missed this.”

“I missed this too,” Y/n squeezed his cock, pressing her thumb against the tip. She was about to drop to her knees when he stopped her.

“I need to be inside you, now.” He lifted her, her legs wrapped around his hips and arms around his neck. He easily slipped his cock inside her pussy.

For a brief moment, they savored the intimate moment of being united as one again.

Y/n leaned down and kissed him deeply and passionately, rocking her hips to meet his thrusts. “Ah!” she breaks the kiss, moaning his name. “We – we forgot a condom – again…”

Rin thrust deeper, pressing his lips to her clavicle. “I’m clean, there – there’s been no one but you…”

Y/n’s arms tighten around his shoulder and neck, her lips to his ear, “that’s not what I mean… Rin – we could risk –“

Rin is reminded of the last time he came inside of her. He is selfish but he wanted nothing more than to cum inside of her again, over again and again until he knows she is pregnant.

Y/n pregnant with his baby, he loves the thought of that.

He wanted that.

Y/n moaned loudly into his ear, “you like that?” She tightens her pussy around his cock, hearing him groan, slowing his hips. “You want to knock me up, Rin? You want me to have your baby?” He hummed, agreeing. “You want to breed me?”

“Yes. Fuck yes. I want to breed you. Cum inside you again. And again.” His nose trailed along her neck until he reached her ear, “I’m not asking Y/n, I’m going to cum inside you. I’m going to put a baby – my baby inside you.” He nipped her earlobe, fastening his thrust. He is so closed, all this promise is knocking him over the edge as he is eager to cum inside of her. “You’re mine.”

Y/n tightens her arms and legs around him, chanting, “yes! Want your baby!” Her tummy coils, tightening and her body trembles in release, cumming around his cock.

Rin pressed Y/n against the tile walls, hooking his arms behind her knees and hoisting her weight so he could pound into her pussy with the purpose to breed.

Her overstimulated pussy fluttered around his cock until he painted her womb with his cum.

Walking over to the seat built into his shower, he sits down, keeping Y/n close as she straddles his lap. They catch their breaths, gazing tiredly yet lovingly into each other’s eyes.

Y/n was about to lift herself off of him when he stopped her, “don’t, not yet.”

She relaxed around him, holding onto his shoulders. “You’re serious about baby-making?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “It sounded like in the heat of the moment talk but I’m dead serious. Were you not serious?”

Y/n threaded her fingers through his wet hair, slicking it back. “Aside from you telling me you love me and want to be with me, I want nothing more than to have your baby.” She lifts herself off, letting his flaccid cock fall limp. “But before that, let us focus on just the two of us for now.” She pressed her lips against his, “take me out on a proper date first.”

Rin grins against her lips, “a little out of order but yes, anything you want.”

. . .

E/n: When I'm writing and releasing my dirty imagination, Rin is the only one I can see getting away with this shit. He can talk about breeding any time and I'll be like... "yes daddy." Please don't be like me. Make good choices. Lol. I'm finishing up on Lord Ushijima... I'll share it soon.

@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu suna #suna smut #suna rintarou smut #suna x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna angst #suna fluff #suna rintarou angst #suna rintarou fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #suna x y/n

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