#when this line functions to show something else you know?

[lokissweater]

promise

{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}

summary: halloween calls for pumpkin carving, cliche horror movies, and most importantly, a penthouse halloween party— only the best of the best invited amongst the world of professional athletes and teams, and you looking forward to this event and giddy as you stood in the ambiance of fake spiderwebs and skeletons…. but megumi is tested. patience running thin when every single man there seemed to track you like a dog, and you thrown off when a certain megumi admirer crosses the line with her absurd words and phrasing… unbeknownst to you that she had it out for you, planning schemes to get what she wants and stopping at nothing to get it— and what she wants being something that already belonged to you… megumi fushiguro.

warnings: MDNI. FLUUUFFF, angst, JEALOUSYYY YEESH, mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of inebriation, afab!reader, cursing, use of y/n, pet names, penthouse party, FERAL SMUUTT, dom reader AND dom megumi HEEE, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), bondage, creampie, scary halloween sex, megumi is COOCKOO IN THE COCONUTS, reader is bratty, megumi is a jealous freak, all characters are aged up.

word count: 19.8k

authors note: OKAAAYYY MLB!MEGUMI FOOOUURRR AAAHHH THIS IS CRAZZZYYY !! LETS ALL COME TOGETHER AND PRAAYYY for what y’all are about to read, and i hope you all LOVEE ITT AND THIRST WITHH MEEE !!! UGH this was an absolute privilege to write for you all and i can only hope once again that i delivered !! <333 I LOVE YOU SOOOO SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR ALL OF YOUR LOVE AND SUPPORT !! <333 MWAAAHHH !!

i highly advise you to read the other parts of this series or else you won’t be able to understand some of the storyline and references :( you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!

“what’s that baby.”

you leaned away from the mirror and looked at megumi, him sat patiently and content on the edge of the tub as he watched you do your makeup.

“this?” you held up your mascara wand and he nodded. “mascara gumi! it goes on my lashes and helps them look preeettyyy.”

you looked to the mirror and leaned over the sink again, dipping the mascara wand in the tube, muttering. “or at least i hope it does…”

megumi huffed a breath of amused air through his nose. “it does.”

you grinned, stepping away from the sink and walking over to him as you extended an arm, offering the little wand.

“wanna help mee?”

he pinched his brows momentarily before reaching and taking it from your waiting hand, mumbling. “i don’t know how baby… i don’t wanna poke your eye.”

you laughed a little and perched yourself up on his lap gently, megumi readjusting so you’d be comfortable and placing a cold hand on your thigh.

“you won’t gumi! i’ll show you look—”

you took the wand back from him and raised the bristle to your eye, sliding it up slowly against your lash as megumi focused his gaze on what you were doing, face so serious that it made you giggle.

“here! you try.” you smiled sweetly, passing it back to him as you excitedly waited for him to copy what you did.

he brought the bristle to your other eye, fingers coming up to gently hold your jaw and keep you in place as he brought up the wand, delicately running the mascara over your lashes with precision.

you stared at him, the way his deep blue eyes tracked his own movements so carefully with furrowed eyebrows as you could tell he was trying his hardest to stay away from your actual eyeball, you finding it difficult to stay still and not swoon over his striking features that never failed to hinder your normal brainy functions— his face close to yours.

“gumi.”

“hm?”

“your lashes are so beautiful.”

the side of his lip curled up in amusement.

“they’re.. eyelashes.”

“lucious eyelashes my god…” you murmured as he moved the bristles away from you and lowered his hand. “they’re so long and sexy.”

he snorted and lifted his hand to give you back the wand, you happily taking it as he then mushed your cheeks together with his fingers and kissed your puckered lips.

“you almost ready.”

“yes!” you responded, standing from his lap and walking over to the sink to take a look at his work, giving him a cheeky thumbs up at the results with a cute smile before dipping the bristles back in the shiny gold tube, coating a bit more of the product on your lash for a fuller look.

halloween was one of your most favorite holidays of the year, right next to valentine’s day and megumi’s birthday as the overall feel of horror, carved pumpkins, and cheesy gore just did something to you that made you sickeningly giddy and riled up whenever you and megumi participated in fall activities each year.

and today was just that— you and your boyfriend getting ready (well mostly you) for a halloween party taking place just about an hour from now, going as a couples costume that consisted of you dressed up as a slutty cupid and him one of your victims, his simple white long sleeved button up and black pants all it was since you didn’t have the heart to make him wear an actual costume, knowing he would probably be embarrassed by it and keep the fact from you.

but the event you were attending wasn’t just any halloween party.

it was the fucking halloween party for any professional athlete across the globe, exclusive as hell, and teams from literally everywhere invited as long as they were the best of the best and honed in several winning titles under their belts— megumi and his team being no exception as they got invited every single year with the event manager practically begging megumi and yuji in particular to attend, but megumi always missing out every year due to his general dislike for parties.

but you loved parties. and he knew that.

and seeing how upset you got last year not being able to go because one of your professors decided to be a dick and assign an exam the day of halloween—

megumi silently made sure that this year you both would be able to go, regardless of what he thought about parties so as long as you were there.

“i just need to put on my corset and wings.” you screwed the mascara tube shut. “i’ll be back!—”

“you’re not changing in here?” he asked confusedly.

“…no.”

“why not.”

“because i need privacy gumi.”

he gave you a deadpanned look. “i’ve seen you naked baby.”

a fiery pink blush rose to your cheeks as you started stiffly side stepping closer to the door.

“okay?” you pursed your lips. “water is wet. the sky is blue. i’m horny because of your costume—”

megumi laughed loudly as your voice trailed off down the hall, you skipping into his room and throwing your top off over your head so you could put on your cherry red corset, it already fucking suffocating you and you hadn’t even tied the laces yet as you quickly slipped on your white thigh high socks and little wings, running down the hall again back to the restroom.

“oh my god i can’t breathe—”

“jesus christ.”

“what?!” you froze and looked down at your costume. “what does it look bad? do i look trashy? do i look stupid—”

“no baby no.” megumi spoke gently, embarrassed that he accidentally let his reaction slip. “s’cute. i like it.”

you smiled sweetly, nodding and turning to look at the mirror to lace up your corset— each tug and pull from your hands only pushing your godly tits further up and up and up until megumi had to grip the sides of the tub to keep himself from grabbing you and taking your white mini skirt off, your soft tits now sitting pretty and puffy at the top of your corset with a tied lacey bow.

you breathed in deeply as you set your hands on your hips, barely even having room to properly exhale as you tried to get yourself accustomed to it.

“i’m gonna die.”

megumi chuckled and stood, walking over to you and settling his long arms around your waist, pulling you in.

“loosen it a little baby.” he leaned to the side to look at your skirt, one hand coming down to tug at it. “is this how short it is?”

“yup!” you cheekily grinned, pecking his rosy cheek. “i’m going as a little slut.”

he playfully rolled his eyes and smoothed his hands over the material of your corset, eyes wanting to lock themselves straight with your tits again but refraining himself from doing so.

“and halloween is like my religion gumi.” you propped your chin up on his chest. “it’d be a disgrace if i loosened up my corset like a freaking loser.”

megumi laughed, his pearly smile making your heart flutter as you stood up on your tippy toes and kissed him.

“kay, you ready?”

he looked at you confusedly. “for what?”

“for the lipstick kisses!” you stepped away from his arms and dug into your makeup bag on the counter. “it’s part of your costume baby it’s like i made you fall in love but with me ‘cause i’m cupid and i shot you with an arrow and now you love me and stuff…”

megumi watched you pull out your red lipstick and unscrew the top, sliding the end of it over your lips carefully before pressing them into a thin line and spreading the product around, leaning back from the mirror.

you turned to him. “ready ready?”

he nodded and let you tug him down by his collar, you undoing a few buttons from the top so his chest would show as you moved and pressed a gentle but solid kiss to his collarbone.

and megumi took note of then that you never really had to do anything for him to get riled up, because you being you and with each little kiss that trailed up his neck and left behind scattered red lipstick marks, had him blushing furiously and looking to the side, a particular peck to the edge of his adam’s apple causing him to harshly suck in a breath through his nose.

megumi loved halloween.

you finished with a kiss to his jaw, pulling back and eyes lighting up at the sight of him covered in your red smooches, you gently nudging him to look in the mirror.

“you look so cuuutee guumiii!” you gushed, a silly smile on your face as you admired your work and pointed at him funnily through the mirror, but faltering and head snapping in his direction once you saw his blank blinking eyes.

“what?” you asked softly, brows furrowed in concern. “are you okay? do you not like it? i could— i could take it off—”

you went to reach for the makeup wipes in your bag until megumi caught your wrist and yanked you forward, dropping his face into your breasts and biting down on a puffy tit as you gasped.

“gumi!” you laughed, hands pushing at his chest as he dragged a long wet stripe up from your boob to the side of your neck. “not right now!”

“why not.” he mumbled, pulling your waist in again and biting down on the side of your neck, his mouth traveling back to your tits. “i’ll be fast.”

your cheeks grew hot as he gnawed and bit over your boobs, your body melting with each lick and little by little giving in to him as you felt yourself dazedly lean forward into his chest.

but the party.

“w— won’t we be late?” you asked softly, thighs clamping together at the way he slipped his hand up your skirt to grope your ass.

“just a little pretty baby…” he murmured against your skin, fingers slowly creeping under your panties. “wanna feel you around my—”

a blaring chime rang through the bathroom, your phone vibrating against the counter as you tried to pull away from megumi and retrieve it.

“my— baby my phone—”

“leave it.”

“but it’s my best friend—”

you extended a strained arm, outstretched fingers clawing to grab at your phone as he continued to assault your neck and tits, almost knocking it off the counter instead as you alternately decided to put your phone on speaker, tapping your finger on the screen to answer the call with your frame still utterly caged in megumi’s arms.

“hel—”

“y/n oh my god please help me!”

your eyebrows furrowed in concern while you literally wrestled with your boyfriend at this point to let you go, him snickering and biting down harder on your skin as you giggled.

“what— what happened?”

“i can’t lace up my costumeee!” she whined. “are you at megumi’s place still?! yuji doesn’t know how to do it he almost snapped the ribbon twice and i can’t see because it’s on my back and we’re gonna be fucking late—”

you gasped. “oh no— yes! yes i am hurry so i can help you—”

“perfect i’m already at the door—”

megumi huffed, rolling his eyes as he straightened up and softly let you go, you looking up at him with apologetic eyes and reaching up to caress his cheek.

“i’m sorry gumi… we can have sex when we get back!”

“you can— what?!” your girl friend shrieked over the phone, both of megumi’s hands slapping over your mouth with blushing cheeks. “you freaks open the damn door!”

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry!—”

megumi laughed and kissed your forehead, dropping his hands and turning to leave the bathroom to get the door as your girl friend still yelled over the other line— a combination of what you had said and about her corset until you actually heard her in person down the hallway through the living room.

“y/n help me please dear god— move megumi—”

fast clicking heels echoed down the hall until they reached you, your best friend heaving as she slumped against the door frame with a trail of dark blue ribbon behind her, the corset of her slutty police officer costume loose around her body as she clutched it against herself.

“i’m so scared the ribbon is gonna snap.” she breathed out. “yuji pulled it so fucking hard i heard a rip—”

“is it okay?!”

yuji ran into the bathroom as soon as you ushered her in and gently turned her around, inspecting the ribbon.

“babe i’m sorry i’m so sorry please forgive me—”

“why did you keep tightening it when i told you to stop?” your girl friend stressed, holding onto the edge of the counter as you proceeded to lace up her corset.

“i don’t know i’m stupid i’m sorry—”

“it’s fine—”

“no i need the death penalty right now—”

megumi appeared behind yuji then with a cold look on his face, arms crossed as he leaned against the hallway wall and listened to the commotion happening in his own fucking apartment that annoyingly hindered the moment he was having with you minutes prior.

“you guys the ribbon is okay.” you began, quickly fastening it through various loops and crosses. “there was a little tear in it but not that bad! it shouldn’t give out.”

they both breathed out a dramatic sigh of relief and you giggled at that, finishing up the lacing with a cute bow at the bottom that matched yours and stepping back, your girl friend happily looking at the ribbon through the mirror then before throwing her arms around your neck and giving you a big kiss on the cheek.

“i love you thank you!”

“mhm!” you sweetly responded, looking over and readjusting the rest of her costume as she started pinning down her little police officer hat, yuji guiltily sulking in the back and megumi disappearing off somewhere.

“babe i told you it’s okay!” your best friend laughed, turning around to ruffle up his pink hair. “it didn’t rip that much and you didn’t mean to at all either.”

he nodded and kissed her cheek, running a hand up and down her side.

“i know i just feel bad… i would’ve fucked up your costume.”

she shrugged, running her hands over his white ribbed tank top. “and we would’ve figured something else out! i was already thinking of using my shoe laces instead.”

you laughed a bit, the sight of yuji wearing bright orange prison pants with his top a funny one as your best friend reached into the back pocket of her shorts to pull out her phone, you fixing over the straps of your little cupid wings in the mirror.

“i’m gonna down every single fucking fruity drink i see.” you spoke excitedly. “oh! you guys do they still do the bottle sparkler drinks you told me about? the ones they bring out and light on fire and—”

“yeaahhh!” yuji exclaimed. “they do holy fuck i’m getting in line for that i don’t care if i black out drunk you only live once—”

your girl friends sudden gasp made you both jump and look at her.

“oh my god—” she frantically scrolled through her phone. “oh my god we have to go we have to go—”

“what?!” you peered over her shoulder to try and look at her screen. “why?! what happened what— are we too late—”

she spun around and grabbed your shoulders. “the— the nfl cheerleaders! they showed up y/n the fucking cheerleaders—”

“oh my god!” you quickly shoved your scattered about makeup into your bag and flung your curler and straightener under the sink. “we have to go we have to go we need to butter our way in this is our chance to be one of them—”

“oh my god oh my god—” she hurriedly pinned her toy badge to her chest before snatching yuji’s hand and running out of the bathroom, yelling from down the hall. “we’ll meet you guys there y/n! call me as soon as you park!”

“okay!” you called back, megumi soon after silently appearing with your cherry red mary jane pumps— dangling loosely from his fingers.

“oh my goodness thank you gumi i couldn’t find those!” you tumbled out quickly, following his lead when he guided you to sit down on the edge of the tub, him getting down on a knee and lifting your ankle up to slip and strap your heels on for you.

“did you hear?” you grinned, bouncing in your spot. “the nfl cheerleaders showed up.”

he chuckled lowly. “i did baby. i heard all the way from my room.”

you bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a squeal, megumi gently setting down one ankle and lifting the other.

“would you still love me if i was a cheerleader for the nfl.”

he snorted. “yes. why wouldn’t i?”

“because i’m betraying the mlb.” you pouted, him finished now and looking up at you with a tiny smile. “but it’s not my fault you guys don’t have cheerleaders! i would’ve tried out a long time ago if you did…”

he looked at you amusedly before kissing your lips and standing, helping you up on your heels with a hand and leading you out of the bathroom over to the living room.

“would you still love me if i was in football instead of baseball?” he asked, grabbing his keys from the counter and leaning down to tie his shoes.

you gave him a bewildered look.

“gumi i’d still love you even if you killed people for a living.” you mumbled. “or if you had a criminal record. or if you committed arson for fun. or even if you straight up didn’t love me back i’d probably stalk you—”

megumi laughed loudly and stood back up, shaking his head and pinching your little cheek at your last comment before opening the front door and stepping out with you.

“i wouldn’t mind that.”

you giggled. “you wouldn’t?”

he shook his head, a sly smile spreading across his face.

“i’d do worse.”

the only thing you all really knew about the whereabouts of the party, was that it was annually hosted at a penthouse in the city by an event manager who was obsessed with professional sports teams, but the details of exactly who’s penthouse was unknown… only that it was the biggest social event of the year with open bars and smoke machines and cocktail waitresses at every corner— any player who was someone in their respective sport always in attendance.

you had heard about it many times before through yuji and your best friend before you had officially met megumi, you every year wanting to go so bad but far too intimidated by the type of crowd that it was to actually show up, doomed to watch their stories on social media and the cheerleaders you followed having the time of their lives doing shots from a cut in half bamboo pole with various others in a line— moping around in your room with nothing better to do.

but now you were eternally grateful that you finally got to go with none other than the person you loved most in your life, not wanting it any other way as megumi contently listened to you excitedly ramble and look through social media stories of the players already there in his passenger seat, interlaced fingers on the center console as he occasionally raised and kissed the back of your hand.

and upon arriving at the penthouse and leaving your vehicles at the parking garage, all of you were amazed to see that there was a line wrapped around the fucking building and down the street as you walked up, you nervous now for some reason while skipping through the entire line and going towards the security guard inside the lobby.

and you’ve always admired and taken pride in the fact that megumi was the best at his sport and was recognized immensely for it despite his indifferent stoic image… but even more so now as the security guard didn’t even have to listen to yuji say who they were as he stepped to the side and pointed down the hall.

“last elevator to your left, button goes straight up. have a great night.”

you all thanked him and walked over to the elevator, piling in and pressing the golden lit button to the top floor before the doors gradually slid closed.

“if the bamboo shots already happened i’m gonna be pissed.” you mumbled, yuji and your best friend groaning in agreement as they chatted and watched the number in the elevator screen rise to thirty five and still going.

“if the bar runs out of those tiki cocktail mugs before we get there i’m actually gonna start fighting with the bartenders this time—”

“no you’re not.” your best friend cut yuji off as she laughed, lightly slapping his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his torso after.

you felt megumi nudge you and you looked, his head coming down and placing his lips to the side of your ear.

“try not to lose me baby.” he murmured. “call me if you do please. or look for yuji’s stupid bright pants.”

“hey!” he whined. “i heard that…”

you giggled hard and nodded, standing on your tippy toes to give him a cute kiss on the cheek.

“kay gumi!”

and the doors slid open just then, music blasting through and startling you and megumi as he grabbed your hand to interlock your fingers, your eyes shining like constellations at the massive scene before you as you all stepped inside— the entire penthouse lit in a dark purple neon hue with hanging skeletons and bats on the walls, fake spiderwebs hung at every corner and yellow caution tape strewn about, absolutely everyone dressed up and not a single one in regular attire as you navigated through the crowd, foggy air over the floor that sweeped and swayed with every movement.

and the walls were tall and humongous, a particular side playing a montage of various teams and specific players’ best moments of their season on a projector screen, your eyes immediately focusing to see if you could spot megumi in any of the flashing videos.

a cocktail waitress passed by with a tray of shots then, multiple hands coming from the crowd to take as your group did as well and downed them back, megumi scrunching up his face in distaste as he coughed into his elbow and put the shot glass back on the tray, you rubbing a comforting hand over his back.

“loooser!” your best friend teased and pointed at him, megumi scowling and slapping her hand away from his face before swinging an arm around your hip.

“no that shit was actually nasty..” you gagged, the rest of you following suit and placing the shot glasses back on the tray before the cocktail waitress disappeared somewhere in the crowd, yuji nodding in agreement.

“that’s why i hog the tiki bar every year— oh shit!—” he quickly whipped his head around with wide eyes. “babe babe my tiki mug where the fuck is the tiki bar?!”

“the fire! the fire!” your girl friend pointed up ahead, all of you turning your heads to see a crowded bar adorned with hibiscus flowers and actual lit torches, multiple bartenders behind the counter booked and busy as they mixed alcohols and shook their barrel shakers to serve drinks.

“oh there’s actually fire...” megumi mumbled. “indoors.”

you gasped. “oh my god gumi let’s go let’s go!” you grabbed his wrist with two hands and gently tugged him forward, a beaming smile on your face. “i want a tiki mug too!”

he laughed a little, nodding as you all started walking over to the bar, yuji literally shoving his way through to the front until the upper half of his body was toppled over the counter with flat palms on the surface.

“tiki mug!” he breathed out to the bartenders. “tiki mug is there still tiki mugs?!”

“itadori!” one of them greeted with a smile, his eyes flickering over to megumi. “and fushiguro?! i’ve never seen you at one of these! ever!”

megumi’s expression read nothing as he only nodded curtly, yuji impatiently waiting for the bartender to answer his question as he looked like he was about to rip his hair out, your best friend laughing.

“congrats on winning the world series last year!” he spoke again before reaching under the bar. “and for the mlb, of course i have tiki mugs!”

“oh thank god thank you i love you mister bartender!” yuji slumped against the counter with a hand over his heart.

“so what drink with it?” he lined up four tiki mugs on the bar. “i could do a piñacolada, blue hawaii, tropical bay breeze—”

“oh! could i do a blue hawaii please?” you asked politely, the bartender nodding and taking the rest of your orders before quickly getting to work and mixing alcohols together.

“megumi i’ll take your mug if you don’t want it!” yuji mentioned hopefully, tail basically wagging like a little dog.

“i’m giving it to y/n.”

“fuck!”

you giggled and patted his shoulder. “it’s okay! you can have it. just let me drink his drink first though heh.”

“oh thank you!” yuji threw his arms around your neck and you stumbled back, megumi quickly placing his hands on your waist to stabilize you. “you don’t understand every year i come to this damn party and there’s never tiki mugs i’ve been saved—”

“babe you’re not letting her breathe get off!” your girl friend laughed, tugging at his ribbed tank before he released you and spun around, engulfing her instead.

“sorry! arrest me!”

“yu!”

“cuff me but the fuzzy pink ones i like those—”

“you’re disgusting.” megumi mumbled.

your girl friend shot him a glare.

“says the one who fucks my best friend every night and makes her say the most outrageous things—”

you screamed and covered your reddening horrified face, megumi shutting up instantly with wide eyes and pink cheeks as yuji and your girl friend reeled over and cackled.

“blue hawaii! tropical bay breeze! rum punch! bahama mama!”

each tiki mug was stacked onto the bar with a thud after every call— full and foamy with colorful liquid and little umbrella picks adorning them as they were pushed towards you, yuji profusely thanking the nice bartender and almost jumping over the counter too as he grabbed his mug.

you took a sip of your drink and lit up, immediately slurping the rest of your blue hawaii and downing it like it’s fucking water and not straight up alcohol as megumi watched you with shocked amused eyes.

“you like it baby?” he softly asked, taking tiny sips of his rum punch and surprisingly liking it, offering it out to you. “you wanna try mine?”

you swallowed a big gulp and quickly nodded. “yes! please gumi.”

you both switched drinks, trying each others and you loving his even more as megumi gently turned you around and wrapped his unoccupied arm over your tummy, tugging your back to rest against his front as you chatted with your friends and tried to hear each other over the loud music (and megumi trying to ignore the stares you got from random weird men..), your eyes occasionally drifting over the crowd and spotting several different star players.

most consisted of the nfl, but there were a good amount from the nba and other teams from the mlb— even volleyball and hockey as you recognized some of their faces from reruns that played on your tv or the highlights you saw through your social media platforms, you a bit star struck when you saw particular ones your were a fan of casually walk by the tiki bar next to you.

you reached a hand out and tapped your girl friend.

“have you seen the cheerleaders yet?!” you yelled over the music, shoulders slumping when she sadly shook her head no.

“i’m gonna actually start crying in front of all of these people if i don’t see at least one.” she stressed. “we need to start looking in the crowd—”

a sudden jolt stumbled you and megumi forward, the both of you craning your heads around.

“i’m so sorry!” a girl gasped. “i didn’t see where—”

she oddly stopped, megumi barely even sparing her a glance as he just nodded at her apology and turned back around to face the other way, but you still watching the way she stared at megumi with big shocked eyes and slightly parted mouth.

similar to the way you did when you first saw him.

but she continued to look at him, her eyes flickering to yours then and… hardening before she reluctantly spun the other way and moved through the crowd until you couldn’t see her blonde hair anymore.

and you figured she could’ve just been a fan of megumi’s and was simply too starstruck to say anything… but the weird feeling in your gut had you gnawing at the bottom of your lip as you turned to face the other way again.

“strange..” your best friend mumbled, your eyes snapping to hers.

“you noticed that too?”

“uh huh.” her gaze scanned the main dance floor. “don’t think i’ve ever seen her before either.”

you craned your neck to look up at your boyfriend.

“have you gumi?”

he looked down, brows furrowing.

“have i what.”

“seen her?” you nudged your head to the crowd. “the girl that bumped into us?”

“who?”

you laughed. “the girl— nevermind. it’s okay!”

he smiled softly, leaning down to peck your lips before continuing to sip on his little blue hawaii as he caressed his hand over your side, his arm still snug around your torso.

“is everybody having a good night or what?!”

your gazes shifted to the dj booth up ahead, the mc of the night holding up a wireless mic with his phone in hand as the crowd erupted in cheers and hollers.

“i want to thank everybody for coming out tonight! it’s a pleasure to do this every year and see all of your talented wonderful faces—”

“oh no.” megumi mumbled, you looking up at him with a confused raised brow.

“what?”

“i think they’re gonna call me up.”

your jaw dropped, stepping out of his arm and facing him.

“they’re gonna what?”

“yuji told me about this last year…” his face was practically pale as he looked to the dj booth, your best friend and yuji already cutting through the crowd to get up there. “they call up certain players from different teams for recognition.”

“oh—” you looked on ahead, an excited smile spreading across your face. “oh that’s so nice baby! you deserve to be recognized like thaaatt!”

he slowly shook his head, absolutely fucking stiff as a rock and annoyance brewing in his chest over the party and event manager doing something fucking ridiculous like this.

“baby let’s go to the bathroom.”

“the bathroom?” you tilted your head. “why?”

“to hide.”

“gumi!” you sent him a comforting grin and ran your fingers through his soft black spikes of hair. “it’ll be okay! they just want to show appreciation for your gift baby that’s all.”

“i don’t want it.” he mumbled, forehead dropping down to rest on your shoulder miserably as you giggled.

“but i wanted to see you up thereee!” you whined, wrapping your arms around his hunched shoulders. “wanna see my cool baseball man in the spotlight for a little like he should be.”

megumi’s cheeks grew pink.

“but let’s go to the bathroom or upstairs we can—”

“if you want me to go up there i will.” he cut you off.

“huh?” your eyebrows furrowed as he picked his head back up. “what—”

“m’going up.”

you gasped. “no gumi it’s okay! i don’t want you to do something that makes you uncomfortab—”

“honda! ito! fushiguro!—”

he cupped your cheek and kissed the other.

“i’ll be back.” he murmured, patting your head while simultaneously swallowing back his displeasure for the situation— but doing it solely for you. “stay here.”

“ledger! itadori! okkotsu!—”

“o—okay!”

“please come up to the booth talented players—”

megumi walked away from the bar and through the crowd, his height making it easy for you to spot him through the masses until he got up there with yuji and the rest of the players, you going on your tippy toes and peering to and fro to try and see where he was at but pursing your lips when you couldn’t fucking see him anymore, ultimately deciding to move through the crowd yourself to find a spot where you could.

“ladies and gentlemen could i please get a round of applause for your top players of the year?!”

an eruption of whistles and clapping pierced through your ears as you tried to shimmy your way in, finally landing a leeway in between several heads and seeing your boyfriend up there— grumpy and bothered with his arms crossed as you covered your mouth to try and suppress a laugh, phone in hand already recording.

“woa— megumi fushiguro?! first year i’ve seen you here man!”

the crowd burst into surprised exclamations and gasps, the mc throwing a heavy arm around megumi as he stumbled forward, an unamused done expression plastered over his face as you held your phone up high with the biggest smile, probably looking utterly insane as you erratically flipped and rotated and zoomed in on his figure in every possible angle imaginable, the bright white lights illuminating him so insanely that he straight up looked like a god.

and you wondered then how in the fuck one of the mlb’s greatest players ever became interested in someone like you, for you felt like megumi was completely out of your league from the start with all of his glorious batting and pitching.

but every time you iterated exactly that to him amongst your endless daily ramblings, he would scoff and shake his head and gnaw at any part of your skin to get you to take back that ludicrous fucking statement, always thinking you were way too humble about yourself and polite and sweet to realize that he had to go through the trenches of telling different guy’s to fuck off if he saw they were even remotely interested in you without you knowing.

megumi did this even before you officially noticed him on the field.

and today was no exception as he scanned the main area of the penthouse to the tiki bar in search for you, the mc blabbering on about things he didn’t care about as he realized you weren’t where he told you to stay, quickly then scanning the crowd and his shoulders relaxing once he spotted you in the midst of the crowd, but eyes narrowing as he saw some stupid moron obnoxiously ogling your tits next to you while you were happily watching him with your phone propped up.

the fuck?

“—good luck to you and itadori in the league championships! any words you wanna say for us here?!” the mc vocalized through the mic, holding it up to megumi’s mouth after.

“wrap it up.”

a mix of ooo’s and laughs bounced off the walls, the mc awkwardly chuckling before unhooking his arm and patting a hand on his back.

“that’s megumi fushiguro for you! now any nba players up here?!—”

megumi immediately stepped off the platform and moved through the crowd, your eyes cutely twinkling once you noticed he was making his way over to you as you stopped your recording and stuffed away your phone.

“that was so funny— oh!”

he swiftly stepped in between you and the guy to block his view, the stupid moron slightly going off balance from how close he actually was to you and the fact only further pissing megumi off, an arm coming to wrap around your waist as he led you out of the center and off to the side by the big wall with the projection screen on it.

“what—” you looked to where you previously were and back to him. “what happened? why—”

he shrugged. “wanna talk over here baby.”

“oh, okay!” you nodded, sweet and oblivious as you enthusiastically yapped about how great it was seeing him up there.

but the guy who was ogling your tits was only the first wave.

“oh my god gumi!” you frantically tapped his shoulder and pointed to the projection wall. “it’s you! it’s you! oh my god i’ve been waiting all night i want a picture right fucking now quick hurry hurry—”

you hopped on over with your mary jane pumps and stood next to the huge projected singular shot of megumi swinging his bat, one foot crossing over the other as you wrung your hands behind your back and tilted your head with a cheeky smile, megumi reaching in his pocket for his phone.

that pose alone might as well have been you violently shooting another cupids arrow through his chest— his tingling pinky cheeks prominent under the purple neon hue of the penthouse as he took several photos, a fond smile growing on his face.

pretty.

megumi watched as you uncrossed your feet and seperated your hands, turning around and straight up pressing yourself against the wall with your tongue erotically out and spread palms over his projected snapshot, him snickering as he covered his mouth with the hand that was holding his phone, trying to ignore the way his dick twitched in his pants at the sight.

he took more pictures and gave you a silent thumbs up, you dropping your pose and skipping back over to him as he put his phone away and extended a waiting arm out to the side, you stepping in and his hand instantly snaking around your waist where it should be.

your gaze stayed locked to the wall, totally transfixed with glimmering heart filled eyes as it continued to play megumi’s greatest moments of his season— most if not all from this year alone, but a good amount consisting of last years world series game where he absolutely dismantled the opposing team with every move he made on the field with no mercy, immense pride bubbling in your little heart.

“you’re the coolest gumi…” you spoke softly and he looked down at you, eyes softening at your dazed state.

“yeah?”

“mhm.” you responded, letting him tug you into his chest as he leaned and placed a gentle kiss to your cheek. “i think i’m gonna start crying and hyperventilating on the floor.”

he chuckled, delicately moving some of your hair over your shoulder to run his hand along the smooth skin there, lips coming down next to your ear.

“i love you.”

you grinned, your heart actually skipping beats and running around every corner of your inner body as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in.

“i love you too gumi!” you gave him a cute peck on the side of his head. “and i think i’m gonna start stalking you anyways like i said because i really need something to do on my down time when i’m not studying or at your events—”

megumi laughed, an infatuated squeaky one as he nodded against the crook of your neck and held you a little tighter.

“do it.”

“okay i’ll start monday! or maybe now and i’m gonna do it by—”

“oh my gosh megumi fushiguro!”

you felt him falter in your arms and turn his head, the both of you slowly separating from each other to see who it was and your brows slightly pinching once you did.

it was the girl from earlier. the one that bumped into you.

“hi! oh my— i’m such a big fan of yours!”

your guard lowered a little upon hearing that, a small smile on your face as you looked at her.

“oh, hi.” he mumbled.

“i’ve been a fan since you got signed actually!” she exclaimed, her short bobbed blonde hair and angel costume cute to you. “how funny i run into you here right? must be fate.”

fate?

“well it’s—” he shifted uncomfortably. “it’s a sports party… thing…”

she giggled obnoxiously like she’d just heard the funniest thing ever, fingers lightly smacking his shoulder as you stood there.

“i know silly!” she smiled, nudging his upper arm with her hand. “just wanted to say that i admire you so much and think you’re the greatest! the way you play is amazing and i love it.“

you were absolutely happy with the fact that a fan was being so nice to megumi and telling him such kind words, as he deserved all of the praise and support and you loved whenever people expressed just that to him— a total treat for you if you were there to witness it as well.

but the weird feeling in your gut was back… and why was she touching him so much…

“thanks.” he spoke simply, giving barely a smile before he made his way to turn back around.

“w—wait!” she shot her hands out. “i’m hana!”

he paused midway and nodded curtly. “hi hana.”

her face gleamed and she blushed, looking like she’d just won the fucking lottery as she smiled big and cupped over her mouth with both hands, obsessed over the way her name sounded from him.

“do i hear wedding bells?!” she squealed. “when’s the ceremony?!”

you choked on your fucking spit, your boyfriend completely taken aback as he looked at her bewildered and awkwardly, megumi sort of initially appreciating the support, but now he just didn’t wanna partake in the conversation anymore as his mind was more interested in the ways you’d stalk him that you were about to tell earlier.

“so are you having fun tonight?” hana continued. “i’ve never seen you around and i come to this event every year!”

“um yeah i’m here with—”

“your friend?” she pointed at you. “how cute! i’m here with a friend too.”

the way she barely acknowledged your presence, even when it was pertaining to you as she spoke about you rather than to you, and the way she literally insinuated marriage like it was nothing with your man, left a sour fucking taste in your mouth.

and friend?

“girlfriend.” he corrected.

her face tightened.

“right!” hana’s gaze landed on yours. “sorry! i couldn’t tell.”

huh?

megumi’s arm was around your waist and she couldn’t tell?

you hugged his upper arm to your chest and gently tugged him away. “sorry but we have to go it was nice meeting you—”

a spark of annoyance flashed through her eyes. “oh but i was talking to him though—”

“—i’m sorry bye.”

you pulled megumi harder and you both dove into the crowd, disappearing from hana’s view as you went in search for your best friend and yuji— agitated and feeling guilty that you were in case hana really was just a fan and was simply overly affectionate.

but she didn’t have to disregard you like that either…

megumi could sense you were a bit bothered by the grip you had on his arm and the way you barely looked at him as you shimmied through people, his brows furrowing in concern.

“baby.” he leaned down next to your ear. “what’s wrong.”

you shook your head. “nothing. just trying to find yuji’s stupid bright pants.”

he smiled a bit.

“i think you’re lying.”

“i’m not.”

“baby— i can tell something’s bothering you.” he continued to pry and you pursed your lips, looking up at him finally.

“that girl was kind of weird…”

“girl?” he cocked his head to the side. “which girl?”

you paused. “the— the one that came up to you and told you her name and complimented you—”

“oh.” his dark blue eyes blinked and trailed off like he was searching his brain for answers, him ultimately left clueless. “sorry i actually forgot everything she said.”

you snorted, leaning forward and covering your mouth as you giggled and shook your head, somehow your boyfriend forgetting the interaction as a whole making you feel better.

“you’re so cute gumi.” you stood up on your tippy toes and gave him a big fat kiss on the cheek. “now let’s find my best friend— bright pants! i see yuji’s bright pants!

you grabbed his wrist and quickly weaved through the crowd, your girl friend’s police officer costume coming into view as you let go of megumi and flung your arms around her neck, her immediately recognizing that it was you and gasping.

“oh my god i lost you y/n! i’m sorry!” she hugged you back and you frantically shook your head.

“no it’s okay!” you pointed to megumi. “he got called up to the dj booth i was distracted—”

“they kept asking you a bunch of questions and none for me man!” yuji pouted at megumi, your best friend laughing.

“they probably got tired of you giving shout outs to the tiki bar every year when you’re up there babe.” she smoothed a hand over his bicep. “and also because megumi came out of his bat cave for the first time in decades…”

you leaned and placed your lips to her ear.

“i have to tell you something.”

“what?! what?!” she whipped her head around and looked at yuji. “yu! go to the tiki bar please with megumi i think we all left our mugs there—”

“oh my fucking god we did!” he shoved his hands in his pink hair, completely horrified. “fushiguro let’s go we have to go—”

“why the fuck do i have to go—”

“no questions come on!”

yuji yanked megumi by his white button up and they tumbled through the crowd, you laughing hard as megumi looked at you over his shoulder— a pleading disgruntled look on his face.

“okay i got rid of them now tell me.”

“girl get ready.” you slowly shook your head, eyes wide. “because i think i’m about to crash out.”

“it’s that bad?!” she placed her hands on your shoulders. “what happened?!”

“a fan of megumi’s came up to him earlier.” you began. “but the things she was saying were putting me a little off.”

her brows furrowed. “what did she say?”

“first she said that them meeting was fate.” you gnawed at your bottom lip. “and then she started saying how much she admired him and loved him on the field which is fine but—”

“not fine but go on.”

you giggled and continued.

“she barely acknowledged me… like at all. she thought i was megumi’s friend even though his arm was around my waist—”

“huh?!” her eyes narrowed. “is she fucking stupid? what’s her name?”

“hana and— i don’t know!” you whined. “but then she literally said ‘do i hear wedding bells’ and ‘when’s the ceremony’ when he said her name—”

“what the fuck?!” she yelled. “y/n this girl was straight up flirting with him in front of you! oh my god if someone was doing that to me with yuji i’d be going to prison!”

“i was thinking—” you hesitated. “that maybe she was just really affectionate but i just feel like somethings not right.”

“hell no it’s not.” she shook her head. “y/n you need to stop being so nice all of the time and bite. next time some shit like this happens you need to say something. please don’t let yourself be disrespected like that.”

she patted your shoulders and released you, crossing her arms. “and what did megumi say?”

“oh he forgot it all!” you beamed. “i think he was barely listening to what she was saying.”

“HAH! okay that’s fine i won’t beat him.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and smiled. “i just wanna take shots from the bamboo pole and forget about it.”

“oh! it’s coming around!” your girl friend frantically looked around. “i saw it pass by and a group do it! it should come back—”

she stopped.

“what does hana look like?”

you quirked a brow.

“uhh short blonde hair? she’s dressed up as an angel.”

“oh my fucking god.” she muttered. “turn around.”

you did, heart dropping once you saw that she was talking to megumi again at the tiki bar, animatedly and close to him that you nearly took your cupid wings off and chucked them at her.

“what the hell is she doing?” you mumbled. “gumi!”

megumi’s head snapped up from his hunched over position on the bar, head swiftly looking around until he spotted you and without another thought pushed himself from the counter and walked, leaving hana there with her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, cutting off whatever she was saying to him prior.

you tugged him in once he got to you and snaked your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in and placing your face into his neck.

“you okay?” he asked over the music, rubbing slow circles on your hips with his thumbs.

“mhm!” you nodded. “was just wondering if you wanted to do bamboo pole shots with me.”

he huffed out an amused breath and squeezed you. “sure baby. don’t take too many though i don’t want you to get sick.”

“no promises!” you grinned.

hana knew from the moment she bumped into you who you were.

how could she not? the only woman that managed to somehow sliver her way in megumi’s life and beat her to the game was like a broken record in hana’s mind— over and over you played and taunted her with every appearance she saw you with him, with every game and event and social media posting from him you were always there— sweet and beautiful with the angelic reputation of changing megumi for the better and treating others so fairly, physically stinging her eyes every time she saw it on the tabloids or on tv.

megumi was supposed to be hers, and when she lost the game she didn’t know.

but her number one goal the minute she learned that megumi was in attendance at the party, was that she was gonna try with her life to make him see that he was destined for her. not for you.

though it wasn’t working like she thought it would.

through the times she’s pulled him and talked to him and flashed him sweet smiles and compliments, trying to copy the entity that you were so he would at least so spare her a fucking glance and listen to what she had to say— wasn’t working as he always disregarded her and straight up treated her like she wasn’t even there.

because of you.

and she was getting desperate.

increasingly so as she watched you and megumi and your little friends line up to take shots from the bamboo pole, all of you having fun and surrounded by people that loved you— for you were the absolute life of the party as you pulled various others from the crowd to do shots with you and rejoice, hana staring from afar with rage as she couldn’t help but just hate you with every kiss and laugh that megumi gave you.

and once hana saw an opening with megumi, him stepped off to the side as he watched you continue to down shots with your friends like nothing with amused eyes, she pushed her way through towards the bamboo line with a new immoral objective of getting him to just be interested in her and forget about you so that you’d crack, evidently showing him and everyone else that you weren’t so angelic and poised after all.

“megumi!”

he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around, indefinitely confused as to why the same girl kept pulling him for chats once he noticed who it was.

“hi?”

“sorry just saw you by the bamboo line.” she smiled. “have you taken any?”

“uh like two.”

megumi looked over his shoulder, attempting to keep an eye on you while at the same time talking to her and already thinking of ways he could cut it short, wanting to just go back to you and make sure you weren’t feeling sick or that a random dude wasn’t preying on you like a dog.

“i don’t know how you can do that!” she shook her head and giggled. “i don’t really drink like that.”

“i usually don’t either.”

pathetic hope washed through her body like an avalanche, her face lighting up over the similarity and the fact that he was actually continuing the conversation with her instead of brushing her off.

“really?!” she gushed. “what a coincidence! it’s like you’re my other half hehe.”

megumi froze.

why was she always telling him the most obscure things?

“um—”

“are you nervous for your league championship game coming up?”

several hoots and hollers made megumi turn around and see that you had taken a cocktail waitress’ tray and was literally doing her job for her— handing out shots to whoever and excitedly bouncing on your toes in response to those who accepted.

“megumi.”

he snapped his head back around.

“huh?”

“i said—” her eyes flickered to you before returning to him. “i said are you nervous for your league game?”

“somewhat.”

“you shouldn’t be!” she reached up and smoothed a hand over his shoulder, her heart pumping that she was touching him. “you’re the best on the team! you’re practically the reason why you guys win all of the time i’ve—”

you saw what she did.

and maybe it was the alcohol in your system making you bratty and the fact that you were a bit overly tipsy, but you also saw the way he let himself be caressed on the shoulder like that without any consideration for you, wondering why he wasn’t stopping the conversation as a whole and coming back to you and instead entertaining her, even after all of the weird shit she had told him before in front of you.

why didn’t he care?

you smiled at the cocktail waitress and gave her back her tray, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes as you tried to look around for your best friend, itching to get confirmation on whether or not you were being batshit crazy or if your feelings were valid as you searched— but halting once you heard megumi’s familiar squeaky laugh that he only let out with you.

megumi was laughing. wholeheartedly. and so was she.

what the fuck was so funny?

“hey—” your girl friend waved her hand in front of your face. “babe are you okay? why are you crying?”

what?

you reached a hand up and touched your cheek, your fingers sure enough shimmering and wet under the purple lights once you pulled them away.

“i don’t—” your lip wobbled. “i don’t know i— i think it’s just because i’m tipsy—”

“where is megumi?” her concerned gaze scanned the crowd until they landed on him, eyes narrowing instantly as she scoffed and shook her head.

“what is this?” she threw her hands up. “ditch my girlfriend for some other bitch day? megumi!”

he jumped and spun around, an initial annoyed look on his face over the way your best friend screamed at him, but eyes widening once he saw your shaking shoulders and covered face.

oh god.

megumi took long stride full steps away from hana to get to you, her sickeningly content with the fact that her presence alone with him upset you so much and threw you off your poised demeanor, thinking it was only a matter of time now before you took out your frustrations on him and drove him away— bonus points if you made a scene.

“what happened?” he hurriedly asked, gripping your shoulders and turning you around in his direction. “baby what happened why are you—”

you pushed him away and hiccuped.

“i don’t wanna talk to you right now.”

“what? why not?” his eyebrows furrowed. “hey—”

he reached to pull you in by the waist and you dodged his hand, turning around in the process and pushing your way through the crowd to get away from him, his heart sinking as he wasted no time in following after you.

“baby please—”

“no.” you stubbornly responded, damning the alcohol for making you act so irrationally. “why don’t you keep talking to other girls all willy nilly without giving a single fuck about me—”

“what?” he spoke sharply, completely thrown off. “okay no hold on—”

megumi picked up speed and engulfed his arms around your torso, lifting you up and taking you down a secluded hallway away from the main area while you thrashed and whined in his hold.

“let me go!”

“no.”

you sniffled.

“gumi let me go.”

“are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

he turned into a darkened corner and slowed.

“no.”

he bit down on your arm and you yelped.

“okay yes i will!”

he loosened his arms and gently set you back down on your feet, nudging you around as he bent his knees to look at you at eye level.

“what’s wrong.” he pushed. “are you hurt?”

you shook your head and hiccuped, fingers coming up to carefully wipe your tears away without ruining too much of your makeup.

“why do you keep talking to her?” you mumbled.

“to who?”

“to hana.”

“hana?” his eyebrows furrowed. “who’s hana?”

“the one that keeps coming up to you!” you expressed. “what did she tell you back there? while i was handing out shots?”

“oh she— she was asking me about the league game.”

“did she say anything weird again?” you crossed your arms.

fuck.

“she did baby…” he spoke softly.

your teary eyes snapped open.

“actually? what did she say?”

megumi really didn’t want to upset you any further, but he wasn’t about to shamefully lie to you either.

“she called me her other half.”

“are you serious?” you hiccuped. “and you just let her?”

“i didn’t let her—”

“this whole time you’ve been letting her i’ve seen you!” you sobbed. “she touches you way too much and has been pulling you for chats all fucking night saying things that are completely disrespectful to me and you say nothing!”

“i—”

“and then you’re laughing with her after she called you her other half? and laughing like you do with me?” you put your hands up defensively. “i’m sorry didn’t know you guys were the best of friends now—”

“baby— i wasn’t laughing at anything she said some drunk idiot tripped and fell on his face behind her.“ he placed his hands on each side of your head and you stopped. “and i swear to god that i didn’t realize any of those things because i don’t give a shit about anyone else but you and i’m sorry.”

“but she literally said do i hear wedding bells and when’s the ceremony!” you cried, the alcohol triggering a new wave of waterworks as you covered your face. “how could you not realize that—”

“no i know baby i know that’s on me.” he gently moved your hair away from your face. “everything she was saying was so foul and i was just letting it happen and i’m so fucking sorry that i didn’t put my foot down from the start. my entire focus is always on you and i was too stupid to realize you were hurting.”

“you’re not stupid gumi—”

“yes i am.” he delicately pried your hands away from your face. “yes i am and you don’t ever have to worry about things like this okay? the only thing that matters to me is you. and i can’t tell you how sorry i am for putting you in this position and making you cry.”

“no it’s me i—” you hiccuped, cheeks buzzing with embarrassment. “i’m sorry gumi i just got jealous and i overreacted and i’m tipsy so it made everything worse. i didn’t mean to yell at you…”

he shook his head, murmuring as he pulled you into his chest. “no you have nothing to be sorry for… i would go nuts if some dude told you the same shit she told me.”

you giggled a little, and megumi was so glad that you had stepped up and said something, especially over something as drastic as this, for you were always too sweet and chose to swallow back things that bothered you around him.

“i would never do that to you pretty baby.” he mumbled. “i would never let anyone else in… just you.”

you pulled away from his chest and quickly shook your head. “n—no gumi i know you wouldn’t. please don’t think that i’m accusing you or anything—”

“no absolutely not.” he spoke gently, thumbs reaching up to carefully wipe away the tears from your pretty face. “i just needed to tell you that… okay?”

you nodded. “okay.”

you stood on your tippy toes and wrapped your arms around his neck, his right away coming around your waist and pulling you in tight— nuzzling his nose into the soft skin of your shoulder as relief washed over his body that you weren’t upset with him anymore.

“are you tipsy like me?” you whispered cutely after a few seconds of comfortable silence, and he chuckled.

“yes.” he admitted. “i think i lost my phone.”

“gumi i feel it in your pocket.”

“i think that’s my dick.”

“gumi!” you nudged him away and giggled hard, a silly small grin spreading across his handsome face as you simmered down and looked at him, lips coming up for a kiss and him gladly leaning down to give you one— the moment sweet and tender as you wetly lip locked and megumi drank you in, him completely fucking deprived of you.

“can we go home.” he spoke in between kisses. “i wanna fuck.”

you laughed and pulled away, face hot as you bit back a smile. “we can go in a little bit baby. i still wanna see if my best friend and i can talk to the nfl cheerleaders heh.”

he chuckled and nodded, pecking your forehead before releasing you and beginning the walk back to the main area, your head in a better place now that you got the reassurance you needed— and so grateful you and megumi were able to bounce back after a situation like that with no repercussions, amazed time and time again at how understanding and patient your boyfriend was with you.

you moved your way through the crowd then in search for your best friend, not having to look for long seeing as she was right in the middle where you had left her— her yelling up and down if anyone had seen either you or megumi and harassing whoever that said they might’ve caught a glance.

“y/n!” yuji pointed, and your girl friend whirled around with frantic wide eyes, running and tackling you into a big hug as she cried.

“where were you?!” she sobbed. “oh my god i was looking everywhere for you you were so upset i thought the she devil took you away or broke you and megumi up or killed you—”

you gasped. “no oh my goodness please don’t cry!” your lip started to wobble again as you listened to her sniffles, hugging her back. “hell no i would never let her do any of that!”

“me neither!” she cried. “please let me get violent with her please—”

you laughed loudly and stepped back, carefully wiping her cheeks before treating yours as both of your men stared dumbfounded.

“fuck hana forget her we have to find the cheerleaders!” you exclaimed, placing your hands on her shoulders and shaking her. “are they still here?! have you checked their socials?!”

“yes! they’re still here!” she frantically nodded. “i saw one while i was looking for you she was—”

“is that one?”

megumi pointed to a girl who was straight up wearing her nfl cheerleader uniform with her pompoms, both you and your girl friend choking on air and gasping as you sputtered a bunch of nonsense and dragged your men with you over to her and her group.

“this is our chance this is our chance—”

why hadn’t it worked?

had hana not upset you enough? tore you down enough to an insecure little bubble to make you bark and bite and be everything that she thought megumi despised? what had happened when she lost the sights of both of you once you left the bamboo line?

because what she was looking at now was making her sick with rage.

you, surrounded by people again and cheerleaders— still stunning and breathtaking and not looking at all like you had just cried buckets like she thought you did, megumi’s arms around you from behind and actually closer now than before while you and your little girl friend conversed and laughed with the cheerleaders about god knows what, hana on the verge of screaming in agony over everything that was going wrong when she had expected a break up right about now.

she just didn’t get it… what was so great about you?

and it didn’t get any better when she started asking other people about you too throughout the night, the purpose being to dish out any nasty information she could of you to use it to her advantage, but getting straight fucking nothing from it as no one had a single bad thing to say about you— referring to you as ‘fushiguro’s girl’ and how sweet and welcoming you were even if you had just met them, how funny you were and pretty and thoughtful and hana was just sick.

had she actually lost to you? had she lost megumi? after being in love with him since the start of his contract?

she thought she had gotten your entity down. hana thought she had managed to morph herself into someone like you since she found out megumi and you were together from the tabloids— watching you and your social media postings since then to see what you had done to turn his head, megumi someone she thought would never find love until she got to him eventually.

and at this point without hana wanting to admit it, she was more obsessed with you than she was with him.

because she cared. she cared so much about everything that you did— the perfumes you wore, the ribbons in your hair, her stomach in complete utter knots watching the way megumi was with you all unfold in front of her in real time, cursing her jealous rotten eyes for how hard they fell for you and how much she worshipped all that you did.

how much megumi worshipped you.

because every time you took pictures with your friends he only looked at you, every move you made he followed after you, every time she tried to talk to him he dismissed her for you, and even every person that knew who you were at this fucking party absolutely loved and adored you.

it just wasn’t fair. why couldn’t megumi love her?

so what could she do? what else could she do?

leaning against the counter of the tiki bar, gaze fixed on megumi’s blushing cheeks and little smile with his face and button up covered in red lipstick kisses she didn’t doubt were from you, him looking at angelic you like you were the sun itself… she conquered that there wasn’t much she could do anymore.

“blue lagoon please.”

hana watched from the corner of her eye the man that just came up to the bar, bored and uninterested and on the verge of deciding to just go home, until she noticed who it was.

ino takuma.

she slightly turned her body in his direction, his eyes drifting to hers momentarily before flashing her a polite smile and looking away again.

“you’re ino takuma… with megumi fushiguro’s team right? for the mlb?”

he turned his head. “oh yes! i am. nice to meet you!”

hana gave him a quick smile.

“do you know his girlfriend by any chance? y/n?”

“yeah of course!” he grinned, a bit drunk. “she’s great. really sweet.”

god, well aren’t you just the greatest thing to ever exist?

she held back her agitation, ino receiving his drink from the bartender and slurping it down immediately.

“i actually was interested in her for a while.” he admitted with the straw in his mouth, loopy and inebriated. “but megumi got to her first… lucky guy.”

her ears perked up.

“do you still like her?”

ino thought for a moment.

“well… a little.” he pursed his lips, a very slight pink hue to his cheeks. “never got to explore it but every time we talk she’s kinda like the one that got away heh… that’s if megumi isn’t pulling her away when i try though.”

a devilish idea sparked in hana’s mind, because at this point— the woman was out for carnage.

and whether megumi ended up with her or not she didn’t care. right now? she just needed to break you both up.

“that’s kind of wrong, don’t you think?” she sighed heavily. “why don’t you try talking to her now? just you two! there’s a hallway by the other side of the penthouse that’s secluded… you’ll get a proper chance to have a conversation!”

ino looked at her like she was insane.

“megumi would actually bite my head off.”

“that’s why you do it away from him and away from everybody else!” she shook her head disappointedly. “what, she can’t be friends with you? you have every right to talk to her ino! so go for it.”

ino looked over to where you were, apprehensive as he gnawed at the inside of his cheek and actually really wanting to talk to you without megumi breathing down his neck for once… but the alcohol in his system making it hard for him to juggle whether it was the right choice or not to begin with.

“have you guys ever tried for cheer teams before?!”

you and your best friend frantically shook your heads no, excited expressions as you hung out with half of the cheerleaders from one of the top nfl teams by the dj booth.

“you should try out for ours!” one of them suggested over the music, a huge smile on her face. “seriously! you guys would do so well and you already know most of us!”

“oh my god i would but i don’t even know if i can do a split!” you whined. “if i show up i’m gonna look like a fucking idiot.”

“i’m weak i’m un-athletic.” your best friend added miserably and they laughed— a different pretty one shaking her head.

“don’t even worry about that!” she waved her hand dismissively. “i’ll literally personally talk to the coach!”

you looked at her wide eyed. “really?! wait no it’s okay! you don’t have to do that i feel bad—”

a different one stepped up. “no she’s the captain she’ll do it!”

“oh fuck!” you slapped your hands over your mouth.

“honestly?! actually?!” your girl friend exclaimed.

“our team prioritizes character over ability!” the captain spoke again. “ability can be taught, not character, and you two are the prettiest and funniest bitches i have ever met.”

you all screamed and laughed as you and your best friend shook each other by the shoulders, unbelieving that you were being scouted right fucking now by the best nfl cheerleaders out there.

“here— give me your numbers and put your emails down too—”

the captain pulled her phone out and swiped through a few apps before turning it over to you, you typing out your information on her notes app and passing it to your best friend after for her to do the same.

“i’ll contact you guys tomorrow morning!” you both nodded and thanked her profusely, her smile bright as she took her phone back and gave you both a thumbs up. “please keep in touch with me or i’ll die.”

you and your best friend vowed that you would with more frantic nods and hugs, you spinning around to face megumi as the team conversed amongst themselves for a moment.

“did you hear?!” you asked, eyes glowing and shiny with hope. “gumi did you hear?! they said— the captain— she got my number— tomorrow morning—”

megumi laughed at your hyper yet spacey behavior, nodding and smiling warmly at you as he pulled you in by the waist, not even phased in the slightest that you and your girl friend got along so well with the cheerleaders— but still a bit shocked nonetheless that you’d basically been offered a spot on the team and you only needed to finalize a few things with them.

“i did.” he gently spoke nudging your chin up, ruffling your hair then as he looked at you sincerely. “that’s really really good baby. good job getting on their radar.”

your face broke out into a gigantic smile and you quickly pecked his cheek. “thank you thank you oh my god i need a drink right now i need to calm down—”

megumi playfully rolled his eyes and released your waist. “i can go get you one.”

“are— are you sure gumi?” you gnawed at your bottom lip. “no it’s okay i can get it—”

he silently shook his head and kissed your forehead. “no baby you have fun… just stay here.”

you smiled sweetly at him and reluctantly nodded, watching him turn and walk through the crowd towards the tiki bar as you shifted your attention back to your girl friend and the cheerleaders.

“no you’re lying.”

“i’m not babe!” your best friend laughed. “they got our contact information and i swear to god they really want us to come try out.”

“holy shit.” yuji shoved his hands in his hair. “holy shit i’m gonna have an nfl cheerleader girlfriend.”

“right?!—”

“holy fuck you’re gonna look so good in those uniforms—”

“i know right?!—”

yuji and your best friend jumped up and down and cheered loudly as you giggled alongside them, your mind completely preoccupied with the thought of how lucky you just were to gain leverage and connections like that with a professional dance team at an event like this.

“we’re gonna head home in a little bit after this!” you mentioned to your girl friend after her and yuji settled, her shoulders slumping in response. “i’m just gonna get one more drink before we go.”

“lame!” she pouted. “is megumi okay to drive?”

“yes he sobered up!” you smiled. “not me man jesus christ.”

your best friend laughed and reached over to give you a hug. “okay just text me when you get to his place—”

“y/n.”

you both stopped and turned, ino takuma behind you with a sheepish smile.

“oh hi ino!” you greeted him kindly. “i didn’t realize you were here! you okay?”

“no yeah! yeah i’m alright. been hogging the bar or upstairs with some of the hockey players.” he smiled warmly. “thanks for asking.”

“mhm!” you nodded. “that tiki bar is crazy every single drink they have is so good.”

he nodded vigorously. “it’s why i’m practically shitfaced right now god.”

you laughed at his phrasing, ino realizing then that he dangerously still kind of liked you with the way he swooned a bit over your smile.

“do you wanna—” he hesitated. “do you wanna talk? over there? for a little..”

“over—” you peered over his shoulder, him pointing to the other side of the purple lit penthouse at a darkened hallway. “over there?”

“y—yeah… if that’s okay!” ino scratched the back of his neck. “it’s just kinda loud here… and i haven’t had the chance to properly talk to you in a while.”

“oh!” you nodded, thinking his intentions were purely innocent and justifiable, feeling bad yourself that you hadn’t spoken to him in some time after megumi’s practices. “yes of course! i’m so sorry ino i’ve been so busy i—”

“no it’s okay don’t!” he grinned. “it’s not your fault whatsoever i just—”

you and ino began your walk to the other side of the penthouse, your best friend and yuji shooting each other weird looks that went unnoticed by you, ino leading you away from the crowd and to the other side of the main area.

you’ve always respected and had a really great impression of ino, him never failing to be kind to you since the moment he introduced himself at the banquet way back when— helpful and genuine and not a bad bone in his body as he was a hard worker for the team and catered to all, you touched that he always took the time to greet you at least once every time you were there for megumi at his baseball events.

“how are you and megumi doing?” he asked, crossing his arms as he casually leaned against the wall of the hallway, you wringing your fingers behind your back and doing the same.

“we’re great!” you beamed. “our two year anniversary is coming up soon!”

“oh wow!” he tightly smiled. “it’s been two years already? shit.”

you giggled and nodded. “i know! time flies hehe.”

ino dismissed the slight growing pit in his stomach, the alcohol in his system obnoxiously amplifying his crush for you as he tried to simmer it down and just conversate with you while he still had you on your own.

but he didn’t think it’d be this hard— his drunk mind blurring the definitions of morality and respect as his judgement was sloppy and you were just so fucking pretty, ashamed of the way he was thinking how a bubbly sweet girl like you ended up with someone as stoic and stern like megumi, someone who was the complete opposite of who you were.

“…are you okay ino?” you spoke softly, eyebrows pinched in concern at the distant look in his eye.

“huh? oh yeah! s—sorry i just—” his cheeks heated up. “i’m tipsy don’t pay that much attention to me.”

“oh no don’t even i am too!” you laughed. “i had two drinks from the tiki bar and like four shots from the bamboo pole.”

he looked at you incredulously. “how are you standing?”

“i don’t know!” you covered your mouth and leaned forward, coming back up against the wall once you calmed down and took a deep breath. “i’m good though i’m great.”

he smiled softly. “you are… and you look really good by the way.”

you faltered a bit but quickly fixed your demeanor, knowing ino only meant that in a friendly way and completely missing the way his drunken gaze flickered to your boobs momentarily before returning to your eyes, his cheeks flaring up at what he did.

and the angel on his right shoulder was absolutely beating the devil on his left for planting two guilty images in his head then.

one imagine that was lewd and sinful and one he wanted to get rid of immediately.

and another image of what it would be like to kiss you…

just once.

“fushiguro! what can i get you?”

megumi was hunched over the tiki bar with his elbows on the counter, his eyes scanning the drink menu as he tried to decipher which drink to get you that you’d like, knowing the fruitier ones were particularly your favorite.

“um… do you have anything that isn’t strong on alcohol.”

the bartender pointed to the menu, megumi’s gaze landing on ‘jungle bird’.

“this one’s your best bet.” he took his barrel shaker out to prepare for megumi’s order. “i can also cut back the alcohol some more if you want me to.”

he nodded. “is it like— fruity.”

“yeah!” he grabbed a glass from the back. “i’ll cut back the alcohol and add more pineapple juice to it so it’s better.”

“thank you.” megumi sent him a thin smile, the bartender giving him a thumbs up before turning his back to him and getting to work, him not even realizing that hana was standing next to him at the bar.

“you getting another drink?”

megumi’s eyes flung to the source of the voice, annoyance pumping through his veins as he saw it was the same girl that had upset you, and the same one who wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone.

“yeah for my girlfriend.” he responded flatly.

hana hummed. “nice! where is she?”

“back over—”

he looked over his shoulder and stopped, instantly straightening up when he didn’t see you in the crowd anymore and worry spiking through… as he knew you were a little tipsy and naive at the moment.

“hmm… weird! actually you know what? i did see her walk away earlier!”

his gaze snapped to hers, hana thrilled since this was the first time he actually looked at her in the face.

“where.”

“with ino takuma!”

his eyes narrowed. “what?”

“yeah! i saw them talking in that little secluded area on the other side… they looked kind of cozy in there i don’t know.”

cozy?

“what do you mean.”

“mmm—” she looked up in thought. “from what i saw she pulled him to talk… and it kind of looked like she was all over him… sorry megumi. i’m just trying to look out for you—”

all over him?

oh fuck no.

megumi stepped to the side and drowned her out, squinting his eyes to try and see if he could spot you on the other side where you supposedly were until he did— you and takuma in a little corner talking and laughing, him obviously drooling over your tits and alarmingly too close to you as megumi’s jaw hardened.

it looked like he was about to fucking kiss you.

“—i would never do that to you what your girlfriend is doing is disrespectful—”

megumi moved without a single word and bumped shoulders with hana on the way, her staggering back a little and scoffing as she watched him disappear to the darker side of the penthouse.

and megumi was furious.

because how many fucking times did he have to make it obvious to takuma that you were off limits, that you had been off limits that you were never on limits? and why were you both so far away from everybody else? from him? why had you pulled him to talk? what for?

megumi understood from the get go exactly why you were so upset about hana saying absurd things to him throughout the night, but with the sight of you now pressed up against the wall as takuma was basically cornering you in, the both of you all alone and secluded and him knowing you were too helpless and nice to call out when a person was being weird— really put the situation into perspective now that the roles were reversed.

and he hated it. hated it so much.

so so much as his mind raced and spun with jealousy over another man wanting to sweet talk his girl, immense venom in his chest thinking ino was actually fucking insane for even attempting such a thing as he shoved and pushed through the stubborn crowd until he—

“what the fuck are you doing.”

megumi grabbed your wrist and tugged you behind him while he looked straight at ino, his pull a little rougher than he intended as he created distance between the two of you.

“oh— hi gumi!” you greeted happily. “look it’s—”

“did you hear what i said?”

“yeah— yup yup—” ino cleared his throat and shot back, face paling over what he almost did. “i was just um— talking to y/n.”

“talking.” he repeated. “and you were about to kiss her too right?”

“no i—” ino looked over at you. “i’m sorry y/n i don’t know what—”

“huh?” your eyes snapped back and forth between them. “gumi what do you mean—”

megumi jerked his head down in your direction. “did you pull him for a chat or did he pull you?”

you shrunk back a little, your boyfriend’s usual gentle eyes now sharp and crazed and one you had never seen from him besides through particular tough games on the field.

“he— he pulled me but why does it matter—”

“why does it matter?”

his head shot back to ino, gaze narrowing.

“what the hell did you think you were gonna get out of this?” he spoke harshly. “taking her over here away from everybody else? away from me?”

“fushiguro—”

“so i wouldn’t see right?” he stepped forward and you quickly grabbed his button up from the back. “so i wouldn’t see you try and sweet talk her and change her mind? to take advantage of her? knowing she’s too nice to say no?”

“no man i would never.” he shook his head. “never i—”

“you’re full of shit.” he spat. “you think i’m an idiot? you think i don’t know what you were just about to do with her?”

“gumi stop it—”

you tried to come around his frame but he only pulled you back behind him.

“megumi— i’m sorry man i really am i’m drunk right now and—”

“so you think that makes it okay for you to try to make a move on her?” he shook his head in disbelief. “she’s in a relationship with me ino. we play on the same sports team what the fuck are you doing?”

“i— i don’t know—”

“you still like her then?”

what.

“no i don’t—”

“don’t bullshit.”

ino ran an exasperated hand down his face. “okay fuck a little!”

“well that’s too damn bad!” megumi shot back. “get your own.”

ino felt horrible.

fushiguro was right. everything he was saying was absolutely right and he had never felt so much shame as he looked at stunning you through the cracks of megumi’s arms, for he not only fucked up his friendship with his teammate, someone he works with, but with you. a person like you an utter loss if driven away— him more than sure that that’s exactly what he did just now.

and what compelled him to do this in the first place? he couldn’t remember anymore.

“fushiguro punch me.”

megumi looked at him bewildered while you gasped, frozen in place.

“huh?”

“sock the shit out of me right now.”

“m’not gonna do that idiot even though you deserve it—”

“no do it right now i’m serious and we’ll call it even.”

megumi rolled his eyes. “go home takuma—”

“do it or i’ll kiss y/n—”

megumi instantly reeled his fist back and knocked the fuck out ino’s jaw, blood boiling and chest heaving over what he said as you slapped a hand over your mouth in shock, ino hunched over with a hand on his face.

“thanks.” he choked out.

“we’re not even dingus.” megumi mumbled. “but go home.”

ino nodded, sending you one last apologetic look before stepping away from the two of you and down the hall until he was out of view.

“what the fuck was that—”

“did he try anything else?” he cut you off.

you looked up at him, trying to peer around his shoulder at his face. “n—no he didn’t he didn’t try anything—”

“he didn’t try anything?” he turned around, brows furrowed. “baby— he was staring at your tits and he tried to kiss you.”

“how?!” you exclaimed, genuinely confused. “we were just talking and—”

“why did you go with him when he pulled you to talk.”

you blinked. “because it’s ino. he’s a friend i didn’t think anything bad of it…”

“you didn’t think anything bad of him taking you to some dark fucking place without anyone else around?”

“i—i’m sorry gumi.” you gnawed at your bottom lip, it registering in your dumbass brain now how shady ino’s request was to talk to you in the middle of an empty hallway. “i didn’t…”

“you didn’t?”

he stepped forward and your eyes widened as he backed you further and further up against the wall, lips coming down next to your ear as he placed his palms flat next to either sides of your head.

the logical and empathetic part of megumi’s brain was yelling at him not to utter his next few words, that he ran the risk of deeply upsetting you and ripping open the bandaid of what you two had previously just cured… but the rest of his brain and entire fucking body and soul was livid.

livid at takuma for taking advantage of your kindness, livid at him for thinking he could successfully pull the shit that he pulled while you were naive and sweet, and livid at every single god damn man in this building for preying after you like a piece of meat and like he wasn’t just standing right there next to you with a hand on your hip.

and megumi was gonna flip it back on you… his anger completely misdirected as he was delirious and fucked off after the events of today and wanted to rile little you up— afraid to admit that he was shaken at the fact that he could’ve potentially lost you to someone as respectable as takuma, for as stupid and shitty and drunk as he was earlier… ino wasn’t a bad person in the slightest.

you matched better with someone like him.

and he didn’t like that at all.

“what if hana had pulled me here hm? to a place where nobody else was around..?”

your brows furrowed.

“w—what—”

“what if she was the one to pull me in this dark empty hallway to try and kiss me?”

you swallowed, jealousy and venom swirling in your chest as you breathed out shakily through your nose, a picture perfect image of the stupid scene megumi was describing sending a sting of agitation through your insides as you narrowed your eyes at him, his hidden underneath the front pieces of his black spiky bangs.

“why are you telling me this.”

he didn’t respond, his splayed out hands balling up into fists.

“do you get off to this? is that what’s going on?”

the tremor behind your voice and your shaking shoulders broke him out of his dark clouded fog and he straightened up, regret hitting him like a brick once he noticed your teary eyes and angry furrowed brows.

“shit i’m sorry i’m sorry—”

you snatched his wrist and yanked him with you out of the hallway, him stumbling behind you as he sputtered out apologies and pleas for you to turn around, for you to look at him as you pushed your way through the crowd back at the main penthouse area.

“pretty baby please i’m so fucking sorry—”

you said nothing, and anxiety welled up in his chest, wondering where you were going and if you were crying as he tried to nudge back and stop you, you only pulling on him harder as you reached the stairs of the main area.

a drunk random guy made himself known from the crowd and leaned over suddenly, his eyes wide and comically bewitched by you as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

“oh my god— you are so beautiful!”

you looked at him rattled as you tried to get away from his strong grip, megumi’s mind over the fucking edge at this point as he grabbed his wrist and jerked it off your shoulder with such a force that it sent him tripping over his feet.

“the fuck do you think you’re doing moron?!”

“oh is she your girl?” he put his hands up defensively. “my bad she’s hot—”

megumi lunged and you quickly wrapped your arms around his torso to pull him back, wrestling with him as you dragged him up the grand stairs of the penthouse.

“baby let me go.” he spoke firmly and out of breath. “let me go right now—”

you ignored him as you tugged at his wrist again and continued up the stairs, him clamping his mouth shut and shitting himself, ashamed of his temper and the behavior he’d been exhibiting left and right as he was sure you were about to break up with him once you found the appropriate setting to do it in, his eyes cast down to the ground and filled with remorse.

you speed walked down the wide hall, pumps clacking against the shiny tile flooring as you opened several doors before you found a vacant bedroom, dragging him in and slamming the door closed behind you with the click of a lock, the music from downstairs now a distant vibration through the walls.

and megumi kept rushing out apologies, trying to explain himself as you turned and closed in on him at the edge of the bed, shoving him down and climbing over him in a straddle as his words got caught in his throat, looking up at you with round eyes.

“baby..?”

he watched you lean back and slowly, tenderly, undo each and every cross and knot from the front of your corset, your little cupid wings long gone now as your gaze stayed glued to his, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth in a little smile.

megumi cautiously propped up on his elbows, observing the way your soft tits spilled out of your corset as you gracefully undid it entirely, throwing it next to you and tilting your upper body down to his level sensually while his heart pattered against his chest— his lips reaching and connecting with the side of your neck as he placed slow open wet mouthed kisses alongside it, licking after each one before starting anew.

he breathed in sharply through his nose then and pulled away. “wait— baby first i’m sorry okay? i’m so sorry—”

“be quiet gumi.” you murmured against his jaw, trailing little sucks and nips at the skin as his eyes fluttered closed, him nearly missing how you tugged your mini skirt off and left yourself with just your lacy panties on top of him— rubbing your pussy teasingly over his clothed cock.

“fuck.” he breathed out, his trembling hands undoing his button up as he hastily sat up and shook it off his shoulders, tossing the white cotton material somewhere in the room and enveloping you in his arms, desperately sucking and biting over the flesh of your tits and nipples as you moaned so sweetly in his ear.

you pressed your pussy down hard on his crotch, megumi moaning with a mouthful of tit as he sat back on his elbows again and rode his hips up to meet yours, obsessed with the way you looked on top of him now with your thigh high socks on and pretty little face— unsure of how the events from earlier led up to this moment but choosing not to question it whatsoever, eyelids blissfully closed as you ran your hands up and down his chest tenderly, rutting on him.

“i wanna fuck you gumi.” you pouted, and megumi swore he saw stars. “take your pants off—”

his hands dived for the waistband of his jeans, fumbling with the buckle of his belt and chest moving rapidly as he hurriedly unclasped it, slipping it off and tossing it to the other side of the room— you swinging a leg off of him so he could kick the rest of his clothes off, megumi grabbing you and settling you back over his lap once he was bare.

you tugged your panties off and sat your puffy lower wet lips on his aching cock, sliding over it deliciously and slowly before lifting and lining his dick up with your hole, sinking down on him as megumi’s eyes rolled back at the feeling.

“you like it baby?” you huffed as you bounced on his dick. “does it feel good?”

megumi lustfully nodded as he reached to place his hands on your waist, you slapping them away and his eyes flying open in response— eyebrows pinching.

“wait—” he bit back a moan as you started going faster. “let me—”

“touch me and i stop.”

“what?” he shook his head. “no don’t do that—”

he reached for you again and you slapped his hands away.

“i said no gumi.”

what the fuck?

megumi reached again and you straightened up on your knees, his dick slipping out of you and landing with a heavy thud on his lower tummy as his breath hitched.

you got off his lap and his eyes widened, disbelieving that you were actually being serious as he confusedly watched you pull the red lace from your corset, tossing the rest of it somewhere and moving further on the bed with your knees.

“sit up on the headboard.”

megumi dumbly blinked.

“do it or i’m putting my clothes back on and going downstairs—”

he shot up and propped his shoulders and head up on the metal frame, you coming around and swinging a leg back over him as his mind went into a fucking frenzy over the way you were acting, too in his thoughts to notice that you had tied his wrists to the metal bars with your lace, eliminating his privilege of putting his hands on you.

you scooched back down and mushed his cheeks up with your fingers, pecking his puckered up lips and smiling innocently.

“be good.”

“baby— fuck!—”

you shoved his cock back inside you and he choked, you picking up your previous brutal pace as he heaved and tugged at the lace in a horny sweat, never in his life seeing you like this as his skin physically itched and burned to touch you with every bounce of your pussy on his length, your cunt so warm as it strangled the life out of his dick and milked it, your tits bouncing in his face and the view of your ricocheting ass a straight up torment to him as he continued to pull frustratedly on the lace.

“let me touch you baby please— hah!—”

“nope.”

“please pretty i’m so sorry i’m sorry for everything that i did!”

his body trembled as you pistoned down on his cock, hiccups coming from his throat as his hips pathetically lifted from the mattress to compensate for not being able to feel you up, overstimulated tears at the corners of his eyes.

you whimpered and licked your lips delightfully at how good he felt and how he was whining for you, making him pay back for everything he did and said tonight as you leaned down and licked a long stripe up his chest to the side of his neck.

“holy shit—” heave “holy shit—”

you sat up on your knees and let his dick fall out again, megumi’s eyes bulging open and jaw dropping at the sudden stop.

“put it back in.” he panted. “i beg you please put it back in—”

“hmmm… i don’t know…” you rubbed your pussy over his cock, noises sticky and squelchy as you pondered. “i think i wanna stay just like this!”

you leaned down and gave him a wet kiss on his cheek.

“baby listen to me.” he looked at you desperately as you pulled away. “i love you i love you please untie me—”

“you love me?” you grinned.

“more than anything—”

“didn’t seem like it all those times you hung out with hana!” you shook your head disappointedly. “why don’t you keep hanging out with her and talking about her and throwing it in my face yeah? maybe ask her to get you off.”

“n—no baby i’m sorry i don’t know why i did that—”

“and since you like hanging out with her so much, i’ll go and hang out with ino.”

he stilled.

“huh?”

megumi’s chest picked up speed as he roughly tugged at the lace, your words already riling him up with the mere mention of you with somebody else.

“mhm! maybe i should slide my pussy over his dick just like this—”

“the fuck you just say to me?”

“—and let ino fuck me and bite me and suck my tits—”

megumi yanked and the lace snapped in two, tackling you and throwing you face down on the bed as he hauled your ass up and smacked it hard, receiving a yelp from you.

“is that what you want?” he plunged his dick inside of you and you cried out, going off balance from trying to lift yourself with your hands and dropping back down by the force. “you wanna be a slut and replace me?”

he grabbed a piece of the torn up lace and joined your wrists behind your back— hastily tying them together and securing it roughly, hooking his hands on the underside of your elbows and wrenching you up.

“gumi!—”

“you gonna do that to me baby?” he hammered his pelvis against the fat of your ass while holding you up at an arch, the bend giving megumi the leverage to absolutely demolish your insides while he fucked you. “you gonna break my heart like that?”

“no!” you sputtered, high pitched whimpers from you filling his ears. “i would never!—”

“uhuh, sure.” he panted, letting go and throwing you down on the sheets below to grip your hips— slamming them back to meet his in such a brutal pace that tears of ecstasy were streaming down your face, your cute pitchy moans mixed with your hiccups and sobs thrilling him sickeningly at the moment, for megumi was too far gone and in a state of animalistic and scary need for you, wanting you to remember that you’d always be his.

“you’d never yet i find you all alone with another man?”

“gumi i’m sorry!” you hiccuped. “i’m so s—sorry—”

megumi reached over and meanly pinched your wet cheek.

“i don’t wanna fucking hear it.”

he looped his fingers through the lace and pulled you up again, wrapping one arm over your shoulders under your chin and the other over your tummy as he enveloped you, dick splitting you open so fucking good that drool seeped from the corner of your mouth— megumi’s tongue coming out to lick it up alongside your tears and you squirming and pouting as he did.

“i bet ino wants to play with your pretty little pussy like this huh?” he spoke softly in your face, eyes crazed and wild as you jerked up and down. “i bet every single fucking guy at this stupid party wants to play with what’s mine right? and you’d let ‘em? you’d do that to me baby?”

you sniffled and whined. “no gumi!— hic!— i love you i wouldn’t—”

“i’d kill for you baby…” he whispered in your ear, nose nuzzled in your hair as your breath hitched.

“so be careful who you talk to yeah?”

megumi threw you back down and broke the lace again with two hands, your arms springing apart freely as he flipped you on your back and spread your pretty thighs, cock lining up, thrusting in and drilling as he hovered over you and kissed you so sloppily— majority of it the sloshing of tongues as you moaned into each other’s mouths and made a wet drooly mess.

“gumi— can i— pant— can i cum please please—”

he shivered at your begging as he trailed his lips to your cheek and gave you a kiss, hips rapid and curt as he felt his cock on the brink of spilling.

“you wanna cum on my dick?”

you licked your lips. “mhm! please.”

so sweet.

“yeah?”

“uh huh—”

“cum— hah— all over my dick baby s’okay—”

“guummiiii!—”

your orgasms flooded through both of your bodies like a white flash, you as a pair completely fucked out and sweaty and abused as megumi’s cum drained into your pussy, hot and droopy as his hips continued to absentmindedly rut his cum back inside of you while you were both borderline checked out with pink cheeks and dewy skin.

megumi was the first to come down from his high, his fogged half lidded gaze looking at your pretty face and pressing multiple small kisses along one side of your cheek, coaxing your little mind to come back from la la land as you stirred and whimpered.

“you okay?” he whispered, and you weakly nodded, sending him a cute tired smile.

“i think—” he sat up and moved a few strands of your hair away from your eyes, mumbling. “i think i was too rough baby i’m sorry…”

“what you just said was a sin.” you spoke flatly and he chuckled, you shifting to curl into his side and wrapping your arms around him, face hiding in his chest.

“…are you mad at me.”

his eyebrows pinched, a soothing hand running up and down your back. “no, never.”

megumi sighed deeply and stared up at the ceiling. “that should be my question to you…”

you lifted your face from his chest and looked at him. “why would i be mad at you gumi?”

“for everything.” he mumbled. “everything i did.”

you giggled, his heart instantly flooding with warmth at the sound as he clutched you tighter.

“but you didn’t do anything baby.” you kissed his collarbone. “everything you did i would’ve done exactly the same and maybe even worse.”

you played with the hems of your knee high socks. “but i shouldn’t have gone with ino gumi i’m really sorry... i genuinely just thought he wanted to catch up as friends… not that he— you know. i didn’t even know that until today.”

and megumi already knew it was exactly just that— your precious kind self trusting ino with everything you had, trusting a friend, that you weren’t considering any of the logistics that could consider a request like his shady.

but he was still so bothered in that moment. and he regrettably couldn’t help it, usually being able to swallow jealous tendencies whenever they appeared, but completely losing it seeing as you were so close to being disrespected like that.

and one issue after another and another made him shamefully insane for a little.

“no baby i know you don’t have to explain.” he answered gently. “i acted like a fucking psychopath today man.. i can’t tell you how sorry i am.”

“oh absolutely not.” you scoffed. “your reactions were so justifiable gumi…”

you looked at him. “you were frustrated and so was i. it was only natural for us to start having a fucking meltdown… but we had it together! right?”

megumi laughed a little and nodded, pulling back to look at you as you grinned.

“we just matched each others freak is all.”

how you managed to make every sour situation better and funny no matter the circumstance, was one of the millions amongst other things megumi loved most about you.

“i’m also trying to say that you don’t have to worry so much about me gumi…” you mentioned. “i can defend myself if i need to okay? i love to hit a man that deserves it.”

he playfully rolled his eyes and smiled softly at you, nodding and accepting your words but them having absolutely no effect, as he was going to continue to worry over you until his very death bed and beyond— that being a promise.

because from the second that you blessedly agreed to be his two years ago, megumi’s job was to worry about you and take care of you, to love you as he silently promised to you over and over again that he would try his hardest to keep you happy— happy with the life that he has given you as your man, and happy with him so that you’d keep wanting forever with him like he so badly wanted with you.

hana was nowhere to be found after you and megumi went back downstairs— not that either of you cared in the slightest as you gathered up your tiki mugs, bid your best friend and yuji goodbye and left the party as fast as you could, eager to get to his apartment and snuggle up under the covers with the warmth of each other’s bodies gently lulling you both to sleep, something megumi had been looking forward to all night and content once he finally got his wish.

and even after the roller coaster of events that happened at the halloween party, the both of you were happy and healthy and laughing about what had happened a couple of days later— you over at his apartment in bed with him during a rainy lazy november day, pajamas and fuzzy socks still on even though it was well past morning already, and with the smell of cookies baking in the oven from the recipe you had made together just for fun to partake in fall activities for the month, the two little pumpkins you had carved silly faces in earlier today with megumi sitting side by side cutely on his dining room table and ‘in love’.

“i say we run down the street right now in our pj’s.”

“baby it’s pouring outside.”

“so?” you pouted, crossing your arms as you sat there straddling his lap. “and then we can kiss in the rain!”

he smiled softly. “you’ll get sick though.”

“and so will you so then we can be sick together in your bed and have sick sex how about that—”

megumi threw his head back and laughed, the crinkle in his eye one you adored so much as you giggled alongside him and traced absentminded figures on his chest, his hands squeezing and caressing over your thighs lovingly.

“your audition is next week right.” he murmured. “for the cheer team.”

“mhm!” you nodded sweetly. “i’m sick to my stomach.”

he snorted, eyes flickering to yours amusedly. “you really shouldn’t be baby. it seems like they really want you and your best friend in.”

“yeah but—” you paused. “what if when i get there and they see me look like a fucking idiot they change their minds? or i talk their ears off and i get banned? or what if i ruin—”

“you’re not gonna get banned.” he chuckled. “just do your best okay… and i already know you will. trust me.”

you grinned, leaning down and peppering little kisses all over his rosy flushed face.

“you’re so niiiceeee gumi my goodness!”

he playfully rolled his eyes, the little smile on his face unwavering as he looked at you.

at his future.

“close your eyes.”

you stopped. “huh?”

“close your eyes.” he squeezed your thighs reassuringly. “i have a present.”

you gasped. “really?! holy fuck wait okay—” you covered your eyes with your hands. “okay okay i’m ready.”

you heard the opening and closing of a drawer, giddy and excited on his lap as he shuffled through a few things that you weren’t sure of.

“can i open nooww?”

he laughed a little. “hold on baby.”

“maaann—”

“okay now you can—”

you ripped your hands away from your face and you froze.

megumi had the prettiest black ring you had ever seen in your life in between his thumb and index, shiny and dainty as it had a cute black little heart in the middle to complete the piece, holding it out for you with flustered cheeks as he looked to the side.

“gumi…”

“it’s a promise ring.” he peered up at you. “do you like it.”

“a—” your eyes snapped to his. “a promise ring?”

he took your left hand that was on his chest and raised it, gently sliding the ring over your ring finger as you sat there in utter shock, him letting go and you slowly retracting your arm with your gaze locked on the stunning jewelry piece.

megumi had the ring hidden for months and dumbed around looking for the right time to give it to you… a time that was perfect and meaningful and intimate as he took it everywhere he went for that time— hidden in the crevices of his duffel bag during practice, stuffed in the pockets of his jackets or sweaters, and even the day of the party, his fingers playing and running along the smooth little heart while you had gone to change into your costume in his room, embarrassingly afraid and nervous over what you’d say even though he knew he didn’t need to be.

“i—” he struggled, you looking at him so sweetly and patiently as he tried to get his thoughts together.

“remember… when we went on that trip to the mountains with my dad… the car ride coming back?”

you quickly nodded. “i do.”

“and when you said that… you thought about us married.”

you blushed furiously and you nodded again, a silly shy smile growing.

“i was serious when i said i did too.” he stared up at you sincerely.

your eyes softened, your fingers lightly grazing over the ring, feeling it.

“i want a life with you..” he mumbled. “i want you to know and remember that… that i love you and i promise you soon it’ll happen. and on days where you’re not happy with me that i’d do anything for you so we can fix it.”

megumi never messed around when it came to you, and you were the one thing he never wanted to lose or let go.

he could live without and lose his car, his apartment, his things his fucking career and he still wouldn’t give a shit as long as your pretty face and smile was still by his side through it all— for you were the thing he absolutely couldn’t live without and would rather swim in boiling scalding water than experience it happen first hand.

megumi softly pinched your cheek. “i want you in my life forever pretty baby.”

your lip wobbled. “you do?”

he nodded, reaching into the collar of his hoodie and tugging out a silver chain with a black ring looped through, his heart beating through the roof as he held it up for you to see.

“i got a chain for it so i’d still be able to wear it under my uniform on the field.”

oh how you fucking melted at that, thinking over how megumi was so dedicated, so committed to the things that mattered most to him, and you couldn’t believe still sometimes even after being with him for two years and him always making sure you knew— that you were one of those things.

and you loved him.. so fucking much as you sniffled and covered your face, leaning forward to lay on his chest as megumi’s eyes softened and arms came to wrap around your body.

“i’m so happy i met you gumi.” you whispered in between your sobs, those words alone sending a spark of emotion through his body, feeling his eyes oddly and ever so slightly prickle.

“i’m so happy i met you baby..” he murmured, hand lifting to pat and smooth over the back of your head. “don’t cry..”

you sniffled and wiped your eyes, feeling so warm and safe under megumi’s arms as he kissed your wet cheeks and carded your hair away from your face, silently so loving as you settled down.

“i’m always happy with you gumi okay…” you spoke. “i’m never not happy. ever. and i’m so fucking thankful every single day that you love me as much as i love you and that i get to keep you.”

he breathed out a little laugh through his nose as you sat up, his glimmering lovesick eyes on you, you smiling.

“i want you in my life forever too baby.” you murmured, playing with the chain on his neck and fiddling with his ring. “i always have.”

megumi smiled, the feeling of joy and love so potent in his chest that he didn’t think a feeling so strong like that even existed or was supposed to happen to him.

but you made it happen. you never failed to make it happen.

his happiness.

“i wanna have your babies.”

megumi choked at your sudden comment, arm flying up to cover his coughs with the crook of his elbow as you giggled uncontrollably at his reaction.

“what?! it’s easy we just do what we already do now except i skip a month on my pill and you cum twice in me instead of once—”

“baby!—”

“i’m kidding!” you snickered over the furious blush on his cheeks, tapping his pinky nose. “i’m kidding i need to be a cheerleader first and then you can impregnate me because i know you want that so bad—”

“oh my god—”

“—and maybe you should cum inside three times actually because third times the charm and i feel like—”

megumi suddenly flipped your positions and tackled you down, lifting your top to reveal your tummy before digging his fingers into your sides and tickling you all over, you thrashing and gasping for air as you laughed loudly and tried to get away from him, him stuffing his face in your neck and nibbling obnoxiously.

“i’m sorry! please stop! gumi— eeekkk!”

“no.”

“i’ll do— i’ll do anything!—”

“no.”

you giggled and gasped. “gummmiiii!—”

days like this with you were megumi’s greatest days.

he didn’t need anything else. just you and your giggles and your smiles, your sweetness and your talkativeness as you brightened up his life in every single aspect, coated all of its tribulations with sunshine and warmth as you proved to him everyday still how beautiful life could be if he just let it.

and as ludicrous as the party was with bamboo shots and cheerleaders, tiki bars and shitfaced players and certain individuals literally trying to pull you both apart… you still loved it. an experience you were glad that you shared with together and barely had to make the effort to talk about and fix because there was nothing to fix.

you and megumi always understood each other, two souls on the same wavelength that ebbed and flowed in the same direction and in the same form always— a privilege that you never once clashed against each other so much so that it destroyed the natural flow of your currents.

because this sea was much different than the dark and torturous one he was in by himself all those years— the one he was in before he met you.

this one was sparkling and crystal blue, luke warm to the touch and fun as he didn’t mind the saltiness of it getting into his eyes, because somehow it never burned when it did, resolving itself quickly and gently and the waves themselves never making him feel like he couldn’t breathe but alive instead, and all while swimming and nurturing it kindly with you as he made sure that you never got tired or unhappy with it— never got tired or unhappy with him.

and all of that was a definite promise— resembled in the ring that sat pretty on your finger.

to look after you. to support you. to love you.

to make you happy.

always.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @stilettoheelz @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever @yoonights @skendos @babylambdietcoke @yunstarz @dinomdubs @kalulakunundrum @s777athv @sugoroo @wastednightsonyou @miri222 @jayawaya @dazailover4ever @courtneedsleep @kcch-ns @halovianembrace @rhaitanis @kayamor @mirophobic @aylinnhealsformeow @zeesturniolo @arionater

[xxbirkindoll]

tangled lines | 18+

pairings: bsf!rafe x bimbo!reader

warnings: unprotected sex, jealous & possessive rafe, fluff, reader is kind of an airhead, soft!rafe, smut, soft sex, oral (fem!receiving), reader uses the word “daddy” two times

summary: rafe gets jealous after seeing reader with a guy at a party and things gets heated when they get to his house

word count: 5.2k

You and Rafe Cameron have always been inseparable. From the time you were kids on the Cut to now, practically glued together as if one of you couldn’t function without the other. You’re the only person who can put up with Rafe’s moods, his temper, and his intense need for control. But you don’t just put up with it, you adore it.

You aren’t scheming or calculating; you don’t try to be mysterious or play hard to get. You’re…well, you’re simple in the best way. You have a heart that could outshine the sun, but sometimes it feels like your head is in the clouds. You aren’t exactly known for your smarts, but that doesn’t bother you. Or Rafe, for that matter.

He loves you for your warmth, your loyalty, and how you can light up any room you enter. But there’s another side to your friendship that’s anything but innocent.

It starts with the little things—Rafe keeping a hand on your back when you walk through crowded rooms, the way he leans in to whisper something in your ear and then lets his lips linger a bit too close to your skin. And when he stares down any guy who so much as looks at you, you don’t ask questions. You just accept it as Rafe being Rafe, your best friend who always takes care of you.

You adore the way he is with you, how he makes you feel like you’re the only girl in the world. And maybe you’re too oblivious to notice how strange it is for two best friends to act this way. How other people often raise an eyebrow when they see the two of you together, whispering to each other or exchanging looks that seem to hold secrets no one else can understand.

But what everyone doesn’t know is that you love it. You love every moment of it. The attention, the possessiveness, the way he always has his arm around you. It makes you feel safe, cherished, and, though you would never admit it, desired.

And then there are the parties. The kooks love their parties, and you and Rafe are always at the center of them. It’s just another Saturday night, and the familiar buzz of bass-heavy music vibrates through the house. Bodies sway, alcohol flows freely, and the scent of sweat and perfume mingles in the air.

Rafe is easy to spot in any crowd. He stands taller than most, and there’s a certain confidence in his stance that draws people’s attention. You’re always close by, smiling and laughing, blissfully unaware of the longing looks Rafe casts your way when you’re not looking.

Tonight, you wear a tiny, tight pink dress that hugs your curves and shows off your long legs. Rafe can’t keep his eyes off you. The way the fabric clings to your body, the way your plump lips pout naturally without you even trying. It’s driving him insane.

You’re at the bar, chatting with one of the other kooks. Some guy who Rafe vaguely recognizes but couldn’t care less about. His name doesn’t matter. What matters is the way he’s leaning in a bit too close, the way his eyes wander over your chest like he has any right to look at you like that.

Rafe’s jaw clenches as he watches, his grip tightening around the bottle in his hand. He doesn’t even realize he’s walking towards you until he’s already there, sliding between you and the guy with a possessiveness that makes the other guy take a cautious step back.

“Hey, babe,” Rafe says, his voice smooth as silk as he slides an arm around your waist, pulling you against him.

You blink up at him, a little startled but then grinning, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Hi, Rafey!”

He internally smiles at the nickname. He despises it, but loves it when it’s coming from your mouth.

The guy who had been talking to you shuffles awkwardly, clearly sensing the tension radiating off Rafe. He mumbles some excuse and quickly disappears into the crowd, leaving you two alone.

Rafe watches him go with narrowed eyes before turning his attention back to you. “What were you talking to him about?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you say with a shrug, clearly not giving it much thought. “He was just asking about the party, I think.”

Rafe frowns. “You think?”

You tilt your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Rafe can’t help but chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You giggle, leaning your head against his chest. “I know.”

But then your smile fades as you look up at him, your eyes wide and sincere. “Rafe, why did you come over here? You seemed mad.”

Rafe’s expression softens as he looks down at you. You really have no idea, do you? How could you be so completely oblivious to the effect you have on him? To how much it drives him crazy to see you with someone else, even if it’s just a harmless conversation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Rafe admits, his voice low.

You blink, your brows furrowing in confusion. “Looking at me?”

“Yeah,” Rafe says, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “Like he thought he had a chance.”

“Oh,” you say softly, biting your lip as if you’re trying to process his words.

Rafe sighs, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. “I just…I don’t like other guys around you, baby. Not like that.”

Your confusion melts away, replaced by a soft smile that makes Rafe’s heart skip a beat. “Aw, I don’t want anyone else, Rafey. Just you.”

His breath catches in his throat at your words. Do you even realize what you’re saying? What that means? But before he can ask, you’re leaning up on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that makes the rest of the room disappear.

Your kisses are sweet, gentle, and taste like the fruity drink you had been sipping on earlier. Rafe responds instantly, his arm tightening around your waist as he deepens the kiss, his hand sliding up to tangle in your hair.

The kiss is nothing new. You’ve kissed before. Innocent, playful kisses that friends sometimes share. But this…this feels different. There’s an intensity behind it, a hunger that neither of you can deny.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

“You’re mine, Y/n,” Rafe whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

Your eyes flutter open, and you smile softly. “I’ve always been yours, Rafe. You’re my best friend.”

Best friend. The words echo in Rafe’s mind, and for the first time, they don’t feel right. They don’t encompass what he feels for you, what he wants from you. But he doesn’t push it. Not tonight. Not yet.

He presses another kiss to your forehead, pulling you into his arms. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

You don’t argue. You never do when it comes to Rafe. You let him lead you out of the house, away from the noise and the crowd, and into the cool night air. You don’t say much as you walk, but the silence between you is comfortable, familiar.

You end up at Rafe’s house, as you often do. It’s practically your second home, and Ward and Rose don’t mind you crashing there. You have your own spot in his bed, your own drawer in his dresser. It’s just what you do—best friends who are closer than most.

You settle into Rafe’s room, and you immediately make yourself at home, kicking off your pink Playboy heels—that your Rafey bought for you—and flopping onto his bed. Rafe watches you with an affectionate smile, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

“You’re really comfortable here, huh?” he teases.

You grin up at him, patting the spot beside you. “Of course! You’re my bestie.”

Rafe rolls his eyes at the term, but he can’t deny the warmth it brings him. He crosses the room and sits down beside you, his hand resting on your thigh. You don’t flinch or pull away; you never do. You just look at him with that same trusting smile you always give him.

“Rafey?” you ask softly, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of your dress.

“Yeah?” he responds, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Do you ever…do you ever think about us doing more stuff?” you ask, your voice hesitant as if you aren’t sure how to phrase the question.

Rafe’s heart skips a beat, but he keeps his voice steady. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like…we kiss and stuff. And we’re always together. People ask me all the time if we’re dating, and I always say no, but…” You trail off, your brows furrowing as you try to find the right words.

“But?” Rafe prompts, his hand moving up to gently squeeze your knee.

You bite your lip, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “But we never had sex…”

Rafe feels like the wind has been knocked out of him. He’s always tried to keep his feelings for you in check, convincing himself that your friendship is enough. But hearing you say those words, hearing you admit that you wouldn’t mind being more…he can’t hold back anymore.

"Baby..." Rafe begins, his voice rough with emotion as he searches your eyes for any sign of hesitation. But there's nothing there-only that familiar trust and a hint of something more, something deeper.

You wait patiently for him to speak, your heart pounding in your chest, feeling like it might explode with anticipation.

The room feels smaller, more intimate, and the air between you crackles with tension that's been building for far too long.

Rate's hand moves from your knee to your face, his thumb gently brushing across your cheek. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice almost a whisper. "Are you sure you want this?"

You lean into his touch, nodding without a second thought. "I'm sure, Rafe. I've never been more sure of anything."

His heart swells at your words, and any doubt that's been lingering in the back of his mind dissipates. You're not just saying this-you mean it. You've always been honest with him, even when it's been hard. And right now, the honesty in your eyes, in your voice, is unmistakable.

Rafe leans in slowly, giving you one last chance to change your mind, but you don't. You close the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that's softer, more tender than any of the ones you've shared before. There's no rush, no urgency—just the two of you, finally giving in to the feelings you've both been suppressing for so long.

He deepens the kiss, his hands sliding down your back to pull you closer, as if he can't bear to be even a millimeter away from you.

You respond eagerly, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pour everything you have into this moment, into him.

You've kissed Rafe before, but this... this is different. It's more intense, more passionate. It feels like you're crossing a line that you can never come back from, but you don't care. You want to cross it-you want to dive headfirst into whatever this is, whatever it could be.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you try to catch your breath. The world outside his room feels a million miles away, and all you can focus on is the way his fingers trail up and down your spine, the warmth of his breath against your skin.

"Y/n," Rafe murmurs, his voice laced with emotion. "I've wanted this for so long. I didn't know if you felt the same."

You open your eyes, meeting his gaze with a softness that makes his heart ache. "I didn't realize it at first," you admit. "But now...l can't imagine being with anyone else, Rafe. I only want you."

His grip on you tightens, and he presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if he's trying to memorize the feel of you.

"You don't know how happy that makes me," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

You smile, a warmth spreading through your chest at his words. "Then be happy, Rafe. Because I'm not going anywhere."

Rate pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours, as if he's making sure this isn't some kind of dream. When he's satisfied that you're really here, really his, he smiles—a genuine, heartfelt smile that you don't see from him often enough.

"You're mine," he says, his voice firm, possessive.

You nod, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I've always been yours, Rafe. You're my best friend."

The words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, Rafe's smile falters. Best friend. The title doesn't feel right anymore-not after everything that's just happened. But he doesn't correct you. Instead, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if he's afraid you might slip away.

"You mean more to me than that," he murmurs into your hair.

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with wide eyes. "What do you mean?"

Rate hesitates for a moment, but then he decides there's no point in holding back anymore. You've always been his—he just never let himself believe it could be real.

"I mean, you're everything to me, Y/n," he confesses, his voice low and sincere. "You're not just my best friend. You're... the person I want to be with. The only person I can see myself with."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, and for a moment, you're speechless. You've always known Rafe cared about you-he's shown it in a million different ways. But hearing him say it out loud, hearing him admit that he wants to be with you, makes your heart swell with an overwhelming sense of love and belonging.

"Rafe..." you start, but he cuts you off with another kiss, this one more urgent, more desperate, as if he's trying to convey everything he feels for you in that single moment.

You respond eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, as if you're afraid to let him go.

The kiss deepens, and soon Rafe is hovering over you, his hands roaming your body as if he's trying to memorize every inch of you.

You let out a soft moan as his lips move to your neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin there, trying to mark you. The sound drives him wild, and he can't help but smile against your skin as he continues his ministrations.

"Rafey," you breathe out, your voice laced with need. "I need you."

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he looks down at you. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice rough with emotion.

You nod, your hands gripping his shoulders as if you're afraid he might pull away. "I've never been more sure of anything."

That's all the confirmation Rafe needs. He leans down to capture your lips in another heated kiss and for the first time, you feel like you're exactly where you're supposed to be. In Rafe's arms, with his lips on yours, with the knowledge that he's yours and you're his.

The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent and demanding, as Rafe's hands roam over your body. There's a fire between you now, an unspoken understanding that tonight is different—that tonight, you're both finally giving in to what you've wanted for so long.

Rafe's hand moves to the hem of your dress, his fingers brushing against your bare thigh. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine, and you arch into him, craving more. He takes the hint, his fingers slipping under the fabric, slowly sliding up your thigh until they reach your hips.

You let out a soft gasp as he grips your hips, pulling you closer until your bodies are pressed together, every inch of you touching. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, the hard planes of his chest against your softer curves. It's intoxicating, the way he's looking at you, as if you're the only thing that matters in the world.

"Rafe..." you breathe out, your voice trembling with a mixture of nerves and excitement.

"Shh," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, sending another wave of shivers through you. "I've got you, Y/n. I promise."

There's a tenderness in his voice, a promise of care and love that reassures you, calms the nerves fluttering in your stomach. You trust him—of course, you do. He's Rafe, your best friend, the one person who's always been there for you. And now, he's here for you in a way that's even more intimate, more special.

Rafe's hands move to the back of your dress, his fingers deftly finding the zipper. He pauses for a moment, looking into your eyes as if asking for permission one last time. You give him a small nod, and he slowly pulls the zipper down, the sound filling the quiet room.

The dress loosens around you, and with a gentle tug, Rafe pulls it down your shoulders, revealing more of your skin to his hungry gaze. His eyes darken with desire as he takes it off your body, throwing, leaving you lying before him in nothing but your pink lace underwear.

Rafe's breath catches in his throat as he takes you in, his eyes raking over every inch of your exposed skin. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice full of awe.

A blush creeps up your neck, and you bite your lip, feeling suddenly shy under his intense gaze. But Rafe quickly dispels any insecurities you might have by stepping closer, his hands cupping your face as he kisses you again, this time slower, more deliberate.

You melt into the kiss, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt. You tug at the fabric, wanting it off, needing to feel his skin against yours. Rate seems to read your mind, because he pulls away just long enough to yank his shirt over his head, tossing it aside carelessly.

Your breath hitches at the sight of him, his toned chest and defined abs on full display.

You've seen him shirtless before, but this is different—this time, he's yours to touch, to explore. And you waste no time, running your hands over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

Rafe groans softly at your touch, his hands moving to your waist as he pulls you against him. The feel of your bare skin against his sends a jolt of electricity through both of you, and before you know it, his lips are trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

You moan softly, tilting your head to give him better access, your hand gripping the back of his neck as you hold him close. The sensations are overwhelming, each kiss sending a wave of pleasure through you, making your body hum with anticipation.

Rafe's kisses move lower, down your collarbone and over the swell of your big tits, his hands sliding up your sides to gently cup them. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, as if silently asking if this is okay.

You nod, your breath coming in short gasps as you watch him, your heart pounding in your chest. Rafe leans down, pressing a kiss to the center of your chest before moving to one of your breasts, his lips closing around your hard nipple as his hand strokes the other.

You gasp, your back arching off the bed as a wave of pleasure washes over you. The sensation is new, intense, and it sends a thrill through your entire body.

Rafe's mouth is hot and insistent, his tongue flicking over your sensitive skin, driving you wild with every touch.

"Daddy," you moan, your voice trembling with need as you cling to him, your long nails digging into his shoulders.

He responds with a low growl, his free hand sliding down your body, brushing over your stomach and down to the waistband of your underwear. His fingers tease the edge of the fabric, and you can feel the heat pooling between your thighs, your body aching for more.

Rafe pulls back slightly, his eyes locking with yours as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear. "Is this okay?" he asks, his voice thick with emotion.

You nod, too overwhelmed to form words, your heart racing with anticipation. Rafe leans down to kiss you again, his lips soft and gentle against yours as he slowly slides your underwear down your legs, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

He pulls back to look at you, his eyes filled with awe and reverence as he takes you in. "You're perfect," he murmurs, his voice full of emotion as he runs his hands over your thighs, spreading them gently to make room for himself.

Your breath hitches as Rafe settles between your legs, his hands gripping your hips as he lowers himself down, his mouth hovering just above your core. He looks up at you one last time, his eyes asking for permission, for confirmation that this is what you want.

You nod, your body trembling with anticipation as you watch him, your breath coming in short gasps. And then, with a slow, deliberate movement, Rafe leans down and presses a kiss to your sensitive clit, his tongue flicking out to taste you.

The sensation is overwhelming, a surge of pleasure that has you moaning his name, your fingers gripping the sheets as you arch off the bed. Rafe's mouth is hot and insistent, his tongue working in slow, deliberate movements that drive you wild with every flick and swirl.

He's slow, methodical, taking his time to explore every inch of you, to learn what makes you moan, what makes your body tremble beneath him. And you respond eagerly, your body reacting to every touch, every kiss, your mind lost in the haze of pleasure that he's creating.

"Daddy, please," you moan, your voice trembling as you reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

Rafe growls in response, the sound vibrating against your skin as he increases the pace, his tongue moving faster, his lips closing around your most sensitive spot as he sucks gently. The sensation sends you over the edge, and with a cry of his name, you come undone beneath him, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm.

He doesn't stop, doesn't pull away, instead continuing to work you through your release, his hands holding you steady as your body shakes with pleasure. When you finally come down from the high, your breath coming in short, gasping pants, Rafe pulls back, a satisfied smile on his lips as he crawls back up your body.

He kisses you, and you can taste yourself on his lips, the sensation sending another wave of desire through you. But Rafe is patient, his kisses slow and deliberate, his hands gentle as they caress your sides, your hips, your thighs.

"You okay?" he asks softly, his voice full of concern as he looks down at you, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

You nod, smiling up at him, your heart swelling with love and affection. "I'm perfect," you whisper, your voice full of emotion as you reach up to cup his face, pulling him down for another kiss.

The kiss quickly grows more heated, more desperate, and soon you're tugging at Rafe's pants, your hands eager to feel all of him, to have him as close as possible. He groans against your lips, his hands fumbling with the waistband of his pants as he helps you, quickly shedding the last of his clothing.

When his cock is finally free, he presses his body against yours, his skin hot and firm against your softer curves. The feel of him, hard and ready against your thigh, sends a thrill of anticipation through you, and you instinctively spread your legs, inviting him closer.

Rafe pulls back slightly, his eyes locking with yours as he positions himself at your entrance. "You sure, baby?" he asks, his voice trembling with emotion as he holds himself above you, his breath coming in short gasps.

You nod, your eyes wide and trusting as you look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "I'm sure, Rafe. I want this. I want you."

He smiles, a soft, loving smile that makes your heart skip a beat, and then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he pushes into your cunt, filling you completely.

The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and a slight sting as your body adjusts to his size. You gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you cling to him, your breath coming in short pants. Rafe stills, giving you time to adjust, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your neck, your shoulders, your face.

“You okay?” he murmurs against your skin, his voice full of concern.

You nod, smiling up at him as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “I’m okay, Rafe. Just…move.”

He nods, his eyes dark with desire as he slowly begins to move, his hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm that has you moaning his name, your body responding eagerly to every thrust. The pleasure quickly builds, the slight sting fading away, replaced by a deep, intense pleasure that has you arching into him, your nails digging into his back as you cling to him.

“Rafe,” you moan, your voice trembling with pleasure as he increases the pace, his hips snapping against yours with a newfound urgency.

He groans in response, his breath hot and ragged against your skin as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hands gripping your hips as he drives into you with a desperation that matches your own. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mingling with the sounds of your moans and his grunts, creating a symphony of pleasure that drives you both to the brink.

You can feel the tension building, the pleasure coiling tightly in your belly, and you know you’re close. Rafe seems to sense it too, because he shifts slightly, angling his hips just right, hitting that sweet spot inside you that has you crying out his name, your body trembling with the force of your approaching orgasm.

“Come for me, Y/n,” Rafe murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you come around me.”

His words send you over the edge, and with a cry of his name, you come undone, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. The pleasure is intense, overwhelming, and you cling to Rafe as you ride out the waves, your breath coming in short, gasping pants.

Rafe follows you over the edge moments later, his body tensing as he groans your name, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he finds his release, his body shuddering with the force of it and comes inside you.

For a moment, the world fades away, and there’s nothing but the two of you, tangled together in a mess of limbs and sheets, your bodies pressed together as you come down from the high. Rafe collapses on top of you, his weight comforting as he buries his face in your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both catch your breath, your hearts pounding in sync. The room is quiet now, the only sound the soft rustle of sheets as you shift slightly, your bodies still pressed together.

After a few moments, Rafe lifts his head, looking down at you with a soft, loving smile that makes your heart swell with affection. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers gentle as he caresses your cheek.

“You’re amazing,” he murmurs, his voice full of emotion.

You smile up at him, your heart overflowing with love. “So are you,” you whisper, reaching up to pull him down for a gentle kiss.

The kiss is slow and tender, a promise of more to come, a promise that this is only the beginning. Because now that you've crossed that line, there's no going back. But you wouldn't want to go back, not after feeling what it's like to be with Rafe like this, to be his completely.

When the kiss finally ends, Rafe rolls onto his side, pulling you into his arms. You snuggle into his chest, your head resting on his shoulder as you close your eyes, feeling a sense of peace that you've never felt before.

"I love you, Y/n," Rafe murmurs, his voice soft and full of emotion as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you look up at him, your eyes wide with surprise and joy. "I love you too, Rafe," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

He smiles, a genuine, heartfelt smile that makes your heart flutter, and pulls you closer, holding you tightly against him as if he's afraid to let you go.

"You're mine," he murmurs, his voice firm and possessive.

You smile, snuggling into his chest as you close your eyes, feeling completely content in his arms. "I've always been yours, Rafey," you whisper, your voice full of love and affection. "And I always will be."

You tilt your head up to look at Rafe, a soft smile on your lips as you watch him sleep. His features are relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips even in his sleep. You can't help but reach out to brush a strand of hair away from his forehead, your heart swelling with affection.

As if sensing your touch, Rafe stirs, his eyes fluttering open to find you watching him. He smiles sleepily, pulling you closer as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

You smile back, snuggling into his chest. "Good morning."

There's a comfortable silence between you, the kind that only comes from years of knowing each other inside and out. You both lie there, basking in the warmth of each other's presence, neither of you in any hurry to get up.

But eventually, Rafe speaks up, his voice hesitant. "Y/n?"

"Yeah?" you reply, your head resting on his chest as you listen to the steady beat of his heart.

"About last night.." he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss, your lips capturing his in a slow, lingering kiss that leaves him breathless.

"Don't overthink it," you murmur against his lips. "It was perfect."

Rafe smiles, a sense of relief washing over him as he pulls you closer. "Yeah, it was," he agrees, his voice full of emotion.

You both fall silent again, but this time, there's a sense of contentment between you. Because no matter what happens next, you know that you've crossed that line, and there's no going back. But that's okay, because being with Rafe feels right. It feels like you've finally found where you belong.

As the morning light filters through the curtains, you realize that this is only the beginning. You and Rafe have always been inseparable, but now... now you're something more. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Because with Rafe by your side, you know you can face anything. Together.

A/N: yall i tried my best i swearrr!!!! i really like the bimbocore aesthetic and i feel like i could make a whole series with rafe and his bimbo gf. like blurbs and fics and stuff. tell me if you want to see more of rafe x bimbo!reader in the future. love uu💗

ps: the dividers are from @anitalenia

[verysium]

attractive things bllk characters (unintentionally) do?👀

i received this ask and decided to write this entire thing through a caffeine-powered fever dream. may have gone a little overboard. please pray for both your sanity and mine. thank you anon for your strong sense of imagination (or delusion, whichever you prefer.)

nagi lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, and you accidentally (or not so accidentally) get a good look at the droplets running down his abs and v-line. he also does the doorway lean while waiting for you to get ready. since he's so tall, he puts his one arm up on the top of the door frame while scrolling through his phone. when he feels drained of energy, he clings to you like a koala, face buried into the crook of your neck.

rin pushes his hair back when his bangs get in the way, and it shows off his ridiculously sharp side profile. sometimes you have to pause mid-conversation because the direct eye contact gets too intense. he has the brightest turquoise eyes in existence, and they stare right into your soul. pair that with the height difference and him towering over you. hang onto your ovaries because this man is about to snatch them. if isagi or sae are anywhere remotely close within your vicinity, he will personally drag your chair closer over to him. you know, the whole nick jonas chair pull thing? he also unintentionally clenches his jaw when pissed, the vein popping out and everything.

barou is polite to his elders. he holds the door open for others. he tips extra at restaurants. he is kind to service workers. he's just a gentleman overall even though he likes to act tough. he rolls up his sleeves while cleaning or cutting up vegetables, and you can see the veins bulging in his forearms. wears those form-fitting aprons where you can see the outline of his waist and the muscles in his back. he is not immune to raging pit bull moments, but he will calm down immediately when you ask him to.

kaiser requires physical touch to function. all concept of personal boundaries goes poof in his little ego-driven brain. he holds your chin so you look up at him while he's talking. also has that husky growl when he wakes up in the morning. he speaks german. what else is more attractive than that? if you stroke his ego, he will puff his chest out like an emperor penguin and flash that movie star smile. does not slow down his pace for you, and will laugh at your expense when you trip in heels and fall. but then he feels guilty about it and begrudgingly picks you up and carries you home. however, before that he will make you swear on everything holy to never tell isagi about his moment of weakness. (tbh kaiser is a menace and has some serious self-esteem issues. pls avoid dating a man like him in real life until he is fully mature. i still love him tho.)

reo mansplains but not in the condescending way. he does so in the "omg i'm so excited to finally get to share something with you and you're never going to believe it" sort of way. rambles on and on about his interests and gets that little glint in his eye when he's passionate about something. also not sure if this counts but he gets extremely depressed when you don't message him back within five minutes. what do you mean you were busy? he was out here dying from a literal famine. he needs your affection to survive. last but not least, he is good at styling. he knows what colors work best for you, and he will put together three new looks for you in record time.

hiori dreams that you left him for good and wakes up crying with his arms around you. will refuse to let you leave the bed even if it is just to get a glass of water. his rare moments of emotional vulnerability are what gets to you.

shidou does not condone any of your bad decisions. you want to get shit-faced and party until early morning? no complaints from him. you want to wear sexy outfits to the club? say less because he's about to enjoy the view and knock out the front teeth of every guy who dares to ogle you. i don't know if this qualifies as being attractive, but he would never be the controlling type. you can dress and act however you want. unfortunately for you though, this is also a textbook case of the blind leading the blind. if you get horrendously hungover, so does he. if you get pulled over, he's going to be too blackout drunk to even comprehend the officer's words. you can count on him for a good time, but not anything else. do not take any of his advice at face value.

oliver likes to show you off even if he doesn't notice it himself. any talk with his team, and he will find a way to make the entire conversation about you. at this point, the entire u-20 team is done with him. they placed bets that you two wouldn't last more than a month due to his philandering reputation, but the universe seems to think otherwise because you and oliver hit the six-month mark and are still going strong.

ness guards your drink with an unnecessary amount of protection. while you left to go use the restroom, he was looking left and right, and the hairs on the back of his neck were prickling every time someone even came close to your cup. he also shoos away any person who opens their mouth while standing next to your drink because apparently the condensation from their breath could be dangerous. definitely covers your cup with both hands even if it has a lid. no suspicious shit is happening on his watch.

yukimiya is well-read, and he wears glasses. he has a copy of every single classic out there in existence and will fangirl along with you over your virginia woolf collection. he was written by a woman with two cats and a wine glass. not much else to say.

loki absolutely clears the entire carnival/arcade game. you want that giant teddy bear that costs over three hundred ticket points? say less because he's about to win the whole damn pot. of all characters, i would say he's one of the only green flags. like celery green.

isagi always looks for you when he enters the room. intentionally or not, he always seeks your presence. if someone says a funny joke, he turns to you to see if you're laughing or not. also does that somewhat creepy stare thing where he just looks at you quietly while you do mundane tasks. internally he is screaming cus what do you mean you actually like him?

chigiri gives you that thankful little smile whenever you stand up for him. i feel like people don't understand how goofy he can get as he's canonically good at doing impressions/impersonations. also has the prettiest laugh. if he ever cuts his hair, i think i'm going to get a nosebleed.

noa unconsciously says yes to every question you ask of him. he'd be giving bastard münchen a hard time (and denying isagi's requests) but then immediately once you come over, he's automatically acquiescing to everything you say. the rest of the team is low-key shocked you can win him over so easily. when they confront him about it, he just shrugs and goes "y/n is always right."

kurona's entire existence is attractive. he's just perfect. nothing is ever wrong with him. will let you check out his shark teeth and lightly pokes your finger to leave an imprint. hopefully you'll always remember him that way. he's also quiet so he will listen to everything you say and give ample weight to your words.

sae is my baby girl so he gets a whole section dedicated to himself:

absentmindedly plays with your hair. when you're sleeping in his lap, he'll gently run his fingers along your scalp. sometimes in the morning when you're sitting up on the edge of your bed to do your makeup, he'll come up from behind you and brush back your hair. might also press a kiss to the back of your neck.

helps you put on your face mask. when he's shopping, he will buy you lotion along with his own skincare products. says that it was just a convenient store run but you know he personally made sure to get you the best quality ones.

this is canon because i said so: when he gets out of the shower, he slings the towel over his neck or his shoulder. he also involuntarily flexes his biceps when he bends down to grab something. has the world's most defined deltoids.

when you're stuck in large crowds at the airport, he puts his hand in your back pocket to keep you two from getting separated. if the TSA pat-down is anywhere too personal for his liking, he will openly glare at the officer once you've passed the security checkpoint.

bonus point: when you two brush your teeth early in the morning, he has that little bed head where his shorn-off bangs stick up in cute little tufts here and there. will have a dead look on his face, but his eyes soften when he catches your gaze through the mirror.

[moonstruckme]

Congrats on 8k!!! You deserve all the love and more <3 also the holiday/winter theme is so so so cute!! Literally cannot even begin to describe how much I adore you and your talent and the fact that you give back and share your wonderful writing with us makes me so unbelievably happy <3

Can I request a hot cocoa drabble with Remus and the prompt wrapping paper from the 2nd list? Much love to you!! And congratulations again!!

I adore you! Ty for requesting angel <3

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 653 words

You watch out of the corner of your eye as Remus carefully folds the wrapping paper over itself, lining the triangle up against the side of his box. He curses. 

You giggle. “How are you so regimented and so bad at this?” 

“Hush.” He rolls his eyes, reaching across you for the tape. “It’s fine.” 

“The label is showing,” you say, trying to be gentle but only hitting amused. “You can’t leave it like that, she’s gonna know what it is.” 

“I’ll cut a square of wrapping paper to cover that part.” 

“Another patch job?” You shake your head at him, grinning. “Rem, I can’t let you bring these to the function. They’re an embarrassment.” 

“The function,” says Remus, cutting through the wrapping paper with a pointed slice, “is already going to have gifts wrapped by James, which always look like he’s let Harry do them, and Sirius is most likely going to bring his in bags. I guarantee ours won’t be the worst there.” 

“It’s just a little embarrassing,” you murmur, really only teasing him. You start folding a ribbon into gentle curves on the top of your box. “I thought I had this really competent boyfriend, but…” 

“Didn’t I tell you to hush?” Remus asks, but his laughter betrays him. The light from your tree smoothes out the lines of his face, his eyes warm and glittering and lashes kissing at the corners. You wish suddenly that you had a camera on hand, but there’s no chance film could capture how perfectly happy he looks.

Remus smooths tape over his patch of wrapping paper with swift, vaguely menacing movements. “I’ll have you know, I am very competent,” he says. 

“It’s gonna take a knife to open that with all the tape on it,” you observe solemnly.

“I am very competent,” he repeats, and you suck in a breath when he locks his hands around your ankles, dragging you to him with one swift motion. You can forget how strong Remus is, sometimes. He’s not very physical usually, but you’ve riled him into playfulness. “You ask Lily tomorrow who the most competent man in her home is, and you get back to me on what she says, yeah?” 

“Well,” you’re giggling, caught under his stern gaze and bubbling with giddy anticipation, “if you limit it to the men, the bar can’t be very high. Lily and I are more competent than the three of you.” 

“How do you figure?” 

“You can look at my gifts, for starters.” 

Remus has an excellent poker face. He squeezes your calf at the jab, and your nervous giggling intensifies. “We’ll see how you feel about your competence when you make your own tea tomorrow.” 

“No wait! Wait.” You get into his lap, trying your hardest to school your features into some sort of contrition. Smooth your hands up and down his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I love you. Have I told you I love you lately?” 

“Not without ulterior motive,” Remus says drily. 

Your lips turn down in a real frown. “That’s not true.” 

“No.” He rolls his eyes, grunting as he pulls you further up his lap. “It’s not, lovely. What, you’re the only one who gets to tease?” 

“Mhm,” you hum, teasing. 

Remus chuffs like you’re something else, but his lips touching to your nose are gentle. “So what if I’m not the best at wrapping? You can’t make your own tea.” 

“I can…it’s just not as good as when you do it.” 

“Some could argue that’s a much more everyday sort of competence, dove.” 

You make a quiet scoff of protest, not very convincing. Remus smiles. His hands stroke your sides. 

“So. We’re going to put my gifts under James and Lily’s tree without complaint, hm?” 

You feel your nose wrinkle. “Without any complaint? I feel like some damage control is necessary.” 

“Remember your tea.” 

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Right. No complaints here.”

[cosmicanakin]

⸝⸝ 𓈒ㅤׂ 𖦹 another dean blurb comin' ur way! 'cause i'm having WAY too much fun with writing 'em !!! originally, when this was sitting in my drafts, it was supposed t'be a full fic, but it wasn't coming out like i wanted it to, so i made it a blurb :p

warning(s) fluffy fluff fluff | implied shower sex | dean 'n his lil camera | reading gettin' a lil emotional. ୨୧

　ꢾ꣒　　 ⑅　　 ⁺　 　₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎　　 ✺ LIBRARY.

★ bonus. divider creds @anitalenia !

DEAN WINCHESTER was never really a 'stuff' guy. his life was all about function over form, about practicality, especially when it came to hunting. but one day, on a whim—or maybe because he'd been thinking about it longer than he wanted to admit—he bought a camera. not just any camera, either, but a $5000, top-of-the-line DSLR that he told himself he'd use to take pictures of all the places he and sam traveled to when they were on hunts. you know, a way to document the life he lived beyond the blood and gore, something to look back on that wasn't just a blur of monster and mayhem.

he didn't tell you about it at first. the camera just kind of appeared one day, tucked inside his duffle, and when you asked him about it, he looked a little embarrassed. "just thought it'd be nice to take some pictures of the scenery," he said with a shrug, like it wasn't a big deal. and maybe to him, it wasn't. at least, not in the way you thought.

but instead of snapping pictures of the rundown motels and backroads they traveled for work, dean found himself using the camera for something else entirely.

it wasn't until the two of you went on a mini-vacation, a week-long stay at a beach resort that you'd been talking about for years, that he really started to use it. you love the beach—always have. there's something about the sound of the waves, the feel of the sand beneath your feet, the salty breeze tangling in your hair, that makes you feel calm. and dean, well, he loves seeing you that way. relaxed, happy, at peace. so while you were busy soaking in the sun, or wading into the water, or just staring off into the distance with that little smile on your face, he was busy capturing it all.

you didn't know, of course. dean was sneaky like that. he didn't make a big show of it, didn't tell you to 'pose' or 'smile.' he just… watched you, quietly, through the lens, snapping photos of you when you weren't paying attention. and when you finally did notice him with the camera, he'd flash you that cocky grin of his and say something like, "just taking pictures of the view."

a few days later, after one of those long, lazy showers you and dean sometimes took together (the kind that weren't just about getting clean, if you know what i mean), that you stumbled upon a little secret of his. he stayed back in the bathroom, washing off a little longer, and you were sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling that post-shower glow, when you noticed a small album tucked underneath a pile of clothes in his black duffle.

curious, you pulled it out, flipping through the pages, and your breath caught in your throat. it wasn't just pictures of random places he'd been on hunts. it was you. photo after photo of you. at the beach, of course, but also in moments you didn't even realize he'd been watching—laughing, lost in thought, maybe even sleeping. and the pictures weren't just good; they were stunning. like, they looked like something out of a magazine, the kind of photos you'd see in a vogue or some fancy travel magazine.

you couldn't believe he'd taken them.

before he could catch you snooping, you quickly put the album back where you found it, heart racing a little, and changed into your pajamas, trying to act like nothing had happened. but the pictures stayed on your mind, even as you and dean curled up in bed and ordered some room service to cap off the night.

after that, you never mentioned it to him. you didn't want to make a big deal out of it, though you kind of wanted to. instead, you found yourself sneaking the camera for your own little adventures. when dean was out or distracted, you'd pull it from his bag and take a few selfies, figuring out how to use the thing. at first, it was a little tricky—those cameras are no joke—but with a little patience, you got the hang of it. you never did anything scandalous, just some cute pictures of yourself, and then you'd put it back in its place before dean could notice it was gone.

and he never did. at least, not until one night in your shared apartment. you were in the kitchen, snacking on some chocolate-covered strawberries dean had picked up on his way home from a hunt (because, in his words, they reminded him of you), and you were nose-deep in a romance novel you'd been dying to read. you heard him walking down the hallway, but you didn't think much of it. you were too wrapped up in your book and your snack, the perfect cozy day in.

what you didn't realize was that dean had found out about your little secret. he'd been going through the camera, checking out some new shots he'd taken, when he stumbled upon your selfies. not just the recent ones, either—he found all of them.

so when he came into the kitchen, camera in hand, he wasn't mad. in fact, he had this look on his face—kind of amused, kind of in awe. "so, you've been stealing my camera, huh?" he asked, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

you looked up at him, mouth full of strawberry, and gave him your cheekiest smile. "maybe," you said.

he didn't mind, though. if anything, he seemed impressed that you'd managed to sneak past him without him noticing. but later that same night, as you were getting ready for bed, you noticed something on his bedside table—a second album, smaller than the one you'd found before.

curiosity piqued again, you opened it up, and what you saw made your heart melt. dean had taken all the photos from the other album and added more—your selfies, the pictures he'd taken of you, everything. but this time, he'd decorated the pages with little stickers and captions in his messy, but endearing, handwriting. things like 'my beautiful girl,' 'my little mermaid,' 'my baby going for a swim.'

tears welled up in your eyes as you flipped through the pages, overwhelmed by how sweet and thoughtful it all was.

before you could even process it fully, you felt dean's arms wrap around you from behind, his bare chest warm against your back. you turned around in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and peppering kisses all over his face. "you really did all this for me?" you asked softly.

he nodded, his expression soft and sincere. "yeah, baby. wanted somethin' to remember you by when i'm out on hunts. somethin' special."

he even told you that he kept one of your selfies in his wallet, and that he loved showing it off to anyone who'd listen—sam, other hunters, whoever. "you're my girl," he said, pride in his voice.

and you couldn't help but smile wide, knowing that, no matter where the road took him, DEAN WINCHESTER was always thinking of you.

… his pretty girl.

[totokoismyfav]

hi i have a request for headcanons :] how would the sextuplets react to an s/o who is objectively a functional member of society (job and/or school, booming social life, well liked, etc) but for some reason simps really hard for them. it can by goofy or not, depends on what you think!

osomatsu san/reader | reader who is a functional member of society who is head over heels for the brothers

A functional member of society in love with a NEET? Oh, what a thought! All of them equally are just as infatuated with you, maybe even more so as you are just shining with confidence and wit. So imagine their surprise when you finally ask them to be your boyfriend! They all react differently so let’s see up close and personal.

Osomatsu: - How are you with him, seriously? Everyone wants to know. - A shitty NEET with such bad habits like gambling and drinking and you looked in his direction? He’s just as shocked as everyone else to be honest. - Although, he’s not complaining one bit.  - Proudly parades you around in front of his brothers, like damn he might as well have won the lottery. - Oh, they are so jealous by the way. - At first, he doesn’t really change besides that but a little bit into your relationship, he starts making small changes and working up to the big ones.  - At first, it’s picking up after himself and doing more chores around the house, then it’s actually looking for jobs and talking about moving out one day. - Soon enough, he ends up doing just that and moves in with you, even holding a job and stops complaining about it all the time. - He’s trying, for you, and that is a lot coming from him. 

Karamatsu:  - Oh, be prepared anon.  - This man will make it known that he is just as much in love with you back.  - Things like surprise flowers and gifts show up at your work’s front desk, only the best for his Karamatrsu darling! - “Oh my darling flower, it makes my heart palpitate just to know how much you adore me!”  - Of course, you are eating up every cheesy line and equally spoiling him despite his surprise when you do so, despite still living with his mother he’s not used to being spoiled like this. - Like you swear you saw tears when you gave him a gift on your first date, and it was something so simple too. A guitar pick with yours and his initials on it. He swears to use it all the time, and he does, especially when he serenades to you. He even started to freak out when the image on it started to fade.  - At first, he refuses to let you pay for things even though you have a job and he doesn’t. After a few high-priced dates, he finally lets you help with the costs and even slightly enjoys being spoiled by you. - To still help out and spoil you, he even starts working at a nearby clothing store. - Your love is so annoying to everyone around you but the both of you don’t care, not one bit. 

Choromatsu: - To his non-existent calculations, you two should NOT be a thing, but he doesn’t care at this point. - He’s also kinda jealous of you? Like you’re everything he wants to be but he quickly gets over that once you ask him out.  - At the beginning of your relationship, he is constantly stuttering and sweating from his nerves but he’s over the moon about finally dating you, he always has his signature smile on his face.  - When you start holding hands, you can physically feel his whole body shake just from your palm against his.  - Of course, you are no better as you are in LOVE with this man. - You’re both a couple who are head over heels for one another and very much show it instead of saying it. - It took you guys weeks just to say ‘I love you’ which ended in you running away with your hands covering your face and Choromastu shouting to the night sky of how he was in love.  - He also starts to become a functional member of society (with your help and motivation). - Soon enough, he’s living with you and has a job of his own, and surprisingly to him he couldn’t be happier getting out of the NEET lifestyle he was in for so long. 

Ichimatsu:  - He can barely believe it himself, how could someone like you be in love with him? - You were a knockout, a functional member of society and he was just a shitty NEET, a nobody who no one wants. You must be fucking around with him.   - And he really thinks that at first, it takes a bit of persuasion for him to believe you are actually infatuated with him.  - On your first date, he would sit tables away from you as you drank a milkshake. His face turned bright red as he tried to sip from four tables away with a long straw. - You would simply smile at him, telling him it’s ok to get closer and that you were truly interested in dating him. - Soon enough, you two were doing regular couple stuff like holding hands and regularly going on dates.  - As you both get further into the relationship you notice he starts to really change things, Ichimatsu even gets a job at a local cat cafe. - Soon enough, he’s living with you and holding down a job he actually enjoys (although interacting with people still irks him).  - Although, when you first asked him to spend the night at your house, he spontaneously combusted right on the bench. 

Jyushimatsu:  - Oh ho ho! This man is ecstatic! - His brothers swear that he’s been faster with his batting swing when you both start dating. - It’s like he has a new form of motivation when practicing baseball, running faster, swinging harder and throwing farther all at the same time. - He also seems happier than usual (somehow) , his smile widening whenever he sees you and your wonderful face.  - Will point you out to his brothers whenever he sees you, like he’s bragging or something. “Ha ha look, it’s my partner! Do you see them, huh? Huh?”  - He also starts working as well, hoping to start working as a baseball player in the future. - With your help, he eventually works up to that point and starts playing in local leagues!

Todomatsu:  - Oh he’s the most smug out of all of them. - Of course, he has no idea why you looked in his direction but he’s so glad you did.  - When you told him you were in love with him, he dropped his coffee you two had gotten minutes prior. Of course, he spilled it all over you and profusely apologized about it while helping to clean you up. - Luckily, it was iced so it didn’t burn or anything so you simply just smiled and told him he was fine and it was ok.  - Totally rubs it in his brother's faces, just like Oso and Jyushi but he’s more of a bitch about it.  - “Oh would you look at that, I have a partner now who’s actually interested in me. Score one for the youngest!” - He actually got a scoreboard for it too, the bastard. - He eventually goes back to Sutabaa, working the same position he did before. - He’s officially out of NEET status when he moves in with you and he’s so happy about it as he went up a level as a human once more!

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + twenty three

authors note: the day of the big party has arrived. reminder, this has a time jump. solana is now home from treatment, though that's touched on in here as well.

also, if you watched arrow, i totally use one of my favorite characters from that show for a certain character. don't own him or anything wwe related. lol

cw/tw: fluff, angst, and violence

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

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 12k

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Solana stops humming as she rips her gaze from the several pots that she currently has sitting on the fire. “It’s not too late.”

Rolling her eyes, she rubs her hands off on her apron and walks over to her husband. Roman pulls her into him as she lifts her hands around his neck. “Ro…..”

“We could just not open the door.”

“Roman.”

This would be Solana’s welcome home party. Two weeks. She’s been home for two weeks, and it’s been a beautiful transition. Being back with her husband and Dulce has meant the world to her. It’s why she wanted to take some time to enjoy the two most important figures in her life before hosting such a social function.

But now the big day has arrived, and while she’s filled with excitement, her husband…..is not.

“What if I buy you something instead? Like an island? Just for us.” Solana is taken back for a moment. She’s still yet to fully grasp the perennial extent of the Bloodline’s reach and wealth. Of her husband’s billionaire status. “Have security set to shoot to kill if anyone tries to bother us.”

She smiles, because while his words are borderline disturbing, the seriousness in his voice and expression are slightly humorous. “Ro, that’s not nice.” 

Roman also rolls his eyes, Solana having a bit of a hard time taking him seriously. He’s so petulant, like a child. “Baby, how many times we gotta have this conversation? I love you and hate everyone else.”

“Dulce?”

“Tolerable.”

Shaking her head, she shifts her hands to his chest. “This is what I want, Roman. I’ve been gone for so long. I just….I just want to be surrounded by the people I love.” And before he can say anything else, she clarifies, “beyond just you and Dulce.”

“She don’t like this shit either. She likes us. That’s it.”

“That’s not what I heard. Apparently, Jimmy really is her new bestie.” Solana giggles, thinking back to the photos Naomi sent and shared with her of Jimmy sitting on the sofa with Dulce, Dulce even sleeping in the bed with him as he took a nap. Almost identical to the ones she received while they were in Mexico. It seems Roman’s cousin has taken a liking to her sweet little puppy.

Roman looks even more irritated as he shares, “you know he had her sleeping in the bed with him again?” Solana does in fact know. She’s got photographic evidence to prove it. “I swear, I saw her little ass standing up on her legs on the side of our bed like she wanted to get in the other day. She can try that shit with us if she wants to, but—”

Solana leans up and kisses him, effectively silencing his rant. Roman’s hands are on the small of her back, deepening the kiss as his tongue glides across her bottom lip, Solana having to prematurely end the kiss when he starts guiding her towards the nearest clear counter that he doesn’t hesitate to prop her up on.

She knows exactly where this is headed, and she has way too many things left to do before the party kicks off.

Ignoring his scowl at her drawing a line in the sand, she does her best to encourage him, “today is going to be a good day. We’re going to have a good time—”

“debatable.” 

“—and if you can try to be nice and not curse at or hurt anybody—”

“—do you not know who I am?”

“Then after the party and everyone’s gone—” her eyes drop to his chest, a bit of sheepishness overcoming her. “—when it’s just you and me….” Solana pushes past her shyness at even thinking of it, sharing in a quiet voice, “then I’ll do the thing.”

Roman looks skeptical, clearly not following, “the thing?”

Solana swallows. She hates how uncomfortable and embarrassed she feels about discussing this. “You know….the…..thing you want me to do where I…..sit.” 

And it’s that elaboration that brings a smug smile on his handsome face. “You finally gonna sit on my face, baby?”

Solana’s cheeks are flamed and reddened. “Not so loud.” She looks around, as if someone could be eavesdropping on quite literally the most sexual thing she’ll have ever done. “But…..y–yes.” She lifts a finger, reminding him of the stipulation. “But, only if you can b–behave.” 

Roman smirks, dropping his gaze to her chest that looks amazing in her little dress. “For you, I can be very good.” She smiles up at him, “but something before could also be a nice incentive.”

Solana slaps Roman on the chest and tugs herself away, hopping off the counter as he squeezes her ass. “Ro, I have to finish cooking, and Melina should be here any minute.”

He scowls, eyes briefly falling to her ass as she moves back over to the stove. “Who is that again?”

“One of my friends from treatment,” she answers over a sigh, grabbing the almost emptied bottle of Adobo. “I told you that this morning.” 

“Yeah, while you were getting dressed. I wasn’t paying attention to anything except them titties.”

She turns to him, cheeks red, and not from her makeup. “Roman, you can’t…nevermind....can you do me a favor?”

“Can we cancel the party?” She gives him a look, forcing him to resign. “Fine. What do you need?”

She motions to the aluminum trays of food lined up all on the kitchen island. A small part of him feels bad for not helping her cook. He’s far from the best, not even remotely close to her in terms of talent, but Solana woke up at the ass crack of dawn this morning to finish cooking. Because she started yesterday evening, and it’s only occurring to him now that he hasn’t done a ton to help her.

She asked the security around them to set up the backyard, chairs and tables and shit. Now that he thinks about it, she hasn’t asked him for much, really. 

Sighing and realizing his role, or lack thereof, in this thing brings on small amount of guilt.

Roman moves behind her, speaking before she can scold him yet again for trying to distract her. “I’m sorry.” He feels the way she relaxes in his embrace, sees how she angles her head to look at him with all the confusion. “I know this is…important to you, and I don’t mean to be difficult.”

Because it is, and because he doesn’t. He’s immensely proud of her, of how well she’s adjusted to being back home full time after being gone for so long. The least he can do is try to be a bit more supportive, even if just the thought of this damn party and being forced to interact with people makes him physically ill. 

“You? Difficult? Never.” He rolls his eyes at her sarcastic tone as she turns her body inward to his. “It’s okay. I know you’re not very…..social, but it’s just one party. And when everyone’s gone….it’s just you and me.”

Roman loves the sound of that. His dick stiffening at just the thought of her climbing on top and sitting on his fa—

“But until then, party first.” She bursts his bubbles, separating and motioning to the trays. “Now, food, please.”

Roman rolls his eyes but follows suit, reaching for the first set of food that smells delicious and has him tempted to just eat before everyone else arrives. He’s near the back door when she calls behind him. 

“Muchas gracias, papi.”

It’s by the grace of God that he doesn’t drop the tray onto the floor. Truly. Because while Roman is far from fluent in Spanish, he’s picked up a few things. Learned some more since being married to Solana. 

He knows muchas gracias is ‘thank you very much’.

And he knows that papi…..is ‘daddy’.

Solana just called him daddy. 

Fuck.

A quick glance back in her direction reveals a small, coy smile. Intentional. She knows exactly what she just did.

He has to take a minute to compose himself.

This woman will easily be the end of him. 

“Ain’t nobody sleeping tonight,” he says it loud enough so she can hear, the last thing filling his ears is her soft laughter. 

————

“Mrs. Reigns.”

Solana has just finished pouring the pasta into the aluminum pan when she hears her name called by one of the security guards. Turning around, a huge smile falls onto her face as the guard steps aside.

“Melina!”

Solana’s smile is stapled as she carefully places the sizzling pot into the sink and runs a bit of water to prevent staining before shutting it off and heading in Melina’s direction.

A hug is initiated and a lack of tensing is prevalent in both women. The two of them just enjoying the embrace. Solana is the first to pull back, sharing, “I’m so happy you could make it.”

It’s been two weeks since they’ve last seen each other in person, since they completed residential treatment, but they’ve texted consistently since them. A couple FaceTime calls as well. With Cam and Mickie, too. 

“Thanks for inviting me.” Melina’s smile isn’t as big, but it’s just as genuine. That’s just Melina. She looks around the house, eyes widening a bit. “Your house is beautiful.”

Solana starts to correct her. Starts to point out that it was Roman’s first. She just happened to move in when they got married, but she stops herself, because that’s not the truth. This is her home. Hers and Roman’s. It’s just as much hers now as it is his. So, she settles on a much better response, “thank you.” She motions to the kitchen. “You still willing to help me cook?”

Another thing they bonded over includes cooking. Something Melina loves just as much as Solana. 

Melina smirks. “Of course.” She digs into her purse, pulling out the brand new bottle of Adobo seasoning. “Even brought an extra one, just in case.”

Solana gives a big sigh of relief. “I’m running low, too.” She was almost tempted to ask Roman to make a grocery run for her in the event the little she has left wasn’t enough to season the remaining food. “Now, I made most of the main dishes last night. It’s just some appetizers and desserts.”

“You want me to do the conchas and sopaipillas?”

“If you don’t mind?” It would help Solana out a ton. Especially since they’re the favorites of her husband and his ravenous cousins. 

Melina shakes her head. “Of course not, just show me the apron.” 

————

Mickie and Cam show up shortly after, but as both are not cooks and don’t hesitate to express as such, they’re relegated to finishing up some of the little things that need to be done in the backyard.

The Wise Man arrives as well, him and Roman disappearing in his office to discuss some work matters. At least, that would be Solana’s guess for their departure.

A little while later, the doorbell rings and Solana rushes over, excited that the bulk of the guests are preparing to arrive. 

Roman happens to meet her at the same time she’s near the front door, only for her to pause when she overhears a voice.

Jey’s voice.

“.....and when we get up in this house, ya’ll better act right. Don’t break nothing. Don’t burn nothing. And that goes for each other, too. Ya’ll know how your uncle Roman is. He not gon’ hesitate to put us all out, and I’m not trying to have that happen, cause ya mama is refusing to fix dinner tonight, so we gon’ need to ea—Josiah! Did you just flip off your brother?”

“He’s being a dick!”

“Aye, don’t be using that kind of language. I’m not gon keep telling you that!” A pause. “Journee! What happened to the bow in your hair?”

“I don’t want a stinkin' bow!”

“Lil girl, I’m tired of you leaving the house looking homeless. Got people thinking I’m neglecting you and shit!”

“If we’re not supposed to say bad words, how come you can say bad words?”

Solana grabs Roman’s hand and pulls him so they can take a step back. “Are—are those his kids?”

“More like demons, but yes.” Solana gives him that disapproving look. “Hey, you wanted to invite them. I tried to tell you.”

Solana shakes her head. “They’re—they’re probably just having a bad day.”

“Every day is a bad day for them then.” 

Solana slaps him on the arm and clears her throat. She takes one last look at Roman who’s giving her that ‘I tried to warn you’ look, which she discards to open the beautifully designed front door, a big smile on her face when she locks gazed with a grinning Jey.

“What’s up, Soso!” Before Solana can even process what’s happening, Jey is in front of her, hugging her, picking her up. 

She’s almost moved on an emotional level at how this doesn’t trigger her, doesn’t cause her to tense up. Just feels like a warm embrace from a good friend. 

From family.

Jey sets her down on the ground and compliments, “you look good, girl!” She smiles, biting down on her bottom lip. Compliments are still a bit of a struggle for her. Especially ones not from her husband. “We missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Because she did. She missed them all. Solana sets her focus on the set of children, of various ages and sexes. Two girls and two boys who all look like their father in various ways, sans their complexions, which are a few shades deeper. “You must be—”

“Boobies!” Solana’s jaw drops at the exclamation of the boy who’s the tallest and probably oldest. His eyes are as wide, dazed, and mesmerized as he points to her chest. “They’re so big. Are they real?”

“Josiah Fatu!”

He ignores Jey’s harsh use of what Solana would guess is his name. “Can I feel them….” Solana goes to straighten up as the little boy starts to reach for her chest. 

Roman is quick to yank Solana so her back is against his front, his arm wrapped protectively around her as she uses her own forearm to cover the cleavage showing with her dress. “You better get your son before I kill his ass, Jey!”

“I’m so sorry, Soso.” Jey apologizes and turns his attention to Josiah. “Boy, have you lost your damn mind?”

Josiah scowls. “You’re the one who said Aunt Solana has nice tits!”

“I was talking to your uncle Jeremiah, not you!” Jey clears his throat, nervous eyes briefly darting to Roman who Solana absolutely makes sure to hold onto. She can feel his anger growing by the second. “Uhh, let me—let me talk to him for a minute.” Jey then directs the kids, “ya’ll go on in the house, and remember what I said!”

Not even seconds later, the remaining three children dart into the home, Solana yelping and pressing herself into Roman to avoid being run into.

“Don’t be running in my damn house!” Roman calls after them, looking down at Solana as Jey drags Josiah away from the door and to the side. “You see what I’m saying now?”

Solana opens her mouth and then closes it, finally settling on, “they’re just excited an—”

She’s cut short by the sound of glass shattering. Her mouth shuts again as Roman closes his eyes. “Ro, just breathe—”

“What the hell did ya’ll just break?” Roman yells out, and she moves her hands soothingly up and down his chest. “Excited, my ass, Solana. I’m telling you. I’m going to kill one of these kids before the day is over.”

“Roman, you are not going to kill one of the kids,” Solana assures, bringing her hands to his face, forcing his gaze back on her. “It’s—it’s going to be fine. Remember, I—”

The sound of loud laughter and the quick patter of feet, both human and not human, redirect the couples attention as Dulce comes running up to her parents, seeking asylum from the little girls hot on her trail. Quickly, Solana leans down to pick up Dulce who instantly starts whining. 

“Ya’ll leave the damn dog alone,” Roman warns, Solana using her elbow to lightly bump him for his tone. 

“She’s just a puppy, so she gets scared a lot. That—that’s all.” Solana explains in a kind voice, recognizing they probably just want to pet her. “Maybe if—” 

She’s silenced by two of the kids rushing past her and Roman, prompting him to remind them yet again, “I said stop running in my goddamn house!” Roman takes a step back from his wife, shaking his head. Fuck this. “Solana, I can’t do th—”

“Whassup, my dawgs!”

“Sami?” Roman is visibly confused and now even more annoyed at the presence of a genial looking Sami in their doorway “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I told Jimmy to invite him,” Solana explains, walking over while still holding Dulce who immediately stops whimpering when she sees Sami. “Hi, Sami. Thanks for coming!”

“Yeah, of course. I would never deny the Tribal Chief’s wife anything.” He says with a nervous thumbs up to Roman who still looks murderous. Sami nervously clears his throat, leaning down to look at Dulce. “And who is this?”

“This is Dulce,” Solana introduces and offers. “Would you like to hold her?”

“Of course!” Sami is careful with how he takes the puppy, who Solana notices immediately starts wagging her little tail. “Well, aren’t you just the cutest little thing? Well, yes you are.”

“Soso!” Solana looks past Sami to see Naomi and Jimmy, the latter of which bumps his wife out of the way to rush towards her for a hug. Similar to Jey, he picks her up and lightly spins her. “You finally out of lockdown!”

“Jimmy!”

Naomi looks horrified, shoving her husband before pulling Solana in for a hug. Roman just looks pissed. Meanwhile, Jimmy shrugs, sniffing the air. He claps his hands and rubs them together, “man, that food sure does smell good. I’m about to go fix my plate before—”

“No,” Solana interrupts, clarifying. “Kids eat first.”

“Kids?” Jimmy scowls as Sami walks in the house to the back, most likely to head out in the backyard, having handed Dulce to Roman. “Man, Jey’s bad ass kids can wait.”

“Solo is bringing his sons too.”

“He what?” Roman and Jimmy are synched, Solana and Naomi sharing an amused smile. Roman cuts in, asking, “Solana, you’ve never even met his kids.”

“I’ve never met his wife either, but I invited her too.” Solana explains, ready to try to help her husband understand it felt rude to her to invite Solo who, despite rockiness at some points, she has appreciated over the past months serving as her protector when Roman can’t, but not his family.

“Ahhh! Solana!” Bianca’s excited voice sounds, drawing the group's attention to not only her but Jade and their respective partners, Montez and Trick. Solana accepts the hugs and compliments from both ladies.

Montez lowers his sunglasses taking in the mansion, red solo cup in the other hand. “Damn. This how the Tribal Chief living? This shit nice as hell.”

“Gated and everything,” Trick chimes. Both men straighten up and clear their throats at Roman’s irritated, piercing gaze. Trick coughing up a quiet, “sir.”

Roman says nothing, the men following Jade and Bianca as Naomi directs them to the backyard. 

“Oh my gosh!” Melina’s shocked voice sounds as she comes from the kitchen, pointing with a horrified expression. “What the hell is wrong with these children?”

At that, Roman demands Jimmy. “Get them.”

Jimmy shakes his head, running over, disappearing from the line of vision. “Hey! Ya’ll stop trying to kill the Wise Man!” Jimmy’s shout can be heard even if he can’t be seen. “Take that tie from around his neck right—are you recording? Girl, put that damn phone down right now!”

Melina walks over, clearly disturbed, Solana offering both her—and Roman—apologetic smiles.

“I hope they have some weed at this party. I haven’t gotten high in over 12 hours.”

“Mother, you will not get high at this party, do you understand me?”

“You know that old hag doesn’t listen.”

“Suck my dick, Escobar!”

“Abuelita, please!”

The remaining three adults, as well as Dulce, redirect their attention to the next set of arrivals. Bayley and her mother Juanita who are accompanied by a man Solana would guess is Bayley’s father as well as an older woman.

“Solana!” Bayley walks up to Solana, giving her a big, warm hug. One that Solana reciprocates with all the warmth in the world. “Melina?”

“Bayley?”

Confused, watching Bayley move to hug Melina, Solana asks, “you guys know each other?”

Bayley is the one to answer with a soft smile. “She’s been with my cousin Santos for years.” Bayley takes Melina’s hand in hers. “Practically family.”

Wow. That’s a connection Solana most definitely didn’t see coming.

Bayley's dad clears his throat, addressing Roman, “Thank you, sir, for allowing us in your beautiful home.”

“I didn—”

“You must be Bayley’s dad?” Solana cuts off her husband, already knowing he’s about to say something rude. Or worse. She offers her hand. “I’m Solana.”

The older man shifts his focus, accepting the handshake, offering his name as his eyes settle into something almost soft.

And sad.

Juanita steals a hug from Solana, holding onto her a bit as she asks her husband. “Bernardo, who does she look like? I know you’ll know!”

He smiles, but there’s nothing happy about it. “Alma.” Now Solana is the one frowning. “She looks like Alma.”

Instantly, Solana can feel Juanita’s energy shift, matching that of her husbands.

“Who the hell is that?” Roman’s annoyed voice cuts in as he switches Dulce from one arm to the other. 

Bernardo gives a solemn nod, explaining, “My late brother’s daughter. She…..passed away many years ago.”

Oh.

“So, you’re saying my wife looks like a dead woman?”

“Roman!” Solana harshly whispers, though she’s also a bit unsure how to respond to that. “Umm—”

“Got any weed around here?” The older woman who Juanita shares the same eyes and lips with asks in a rough voice, adding on, “though the food smells pretty good too.”

“Mother, please.” Juanita shakes her head, apologizing. “I’m so sorry we had to bring her. She’d been staying at this nice nursing home we found for her, but she got kicked out….again.”

“This is the fourth damn one in six months,” Bernardo mutters. 

“Didn’t even hit that bitch that hard,��� Abuelita defends when her gaze suddenly falls to Roman. “Oh.” She walks over to him, her hand on his bicep, Solana seeing the instant look of disapproval and disgust that appears on his handsome face. “Now, you are a man, aren’t you?” Switching her attention to Solana, she so casually asks, “it’s big, isn’t it? Heavy too. I can tell by the way he stands.”

“Abuelita!” Bayley’s face is reddening by the second as she carefully grabs her grandma by the arm. “I’m just gonna take her out back.” She sends Roman an apologetic look and ushers Abuelita away as the older woman asks something about cocaine. Bernardo and Juanita follow suit with Melina excusing herself to check on Conchas.

Left alone with just her husband, Solana relieves him of Dulce, her sweet little baby nestling her head against Solana’s chest. 

“Roman, please, you said you’d behave.”

“Well, that was before I found out you invited half the damn city,” is his counter as he asks, “Solana, just how many people did you invite?”

“Enough,” is her vague answer. She sighs at his unchanging expression of wanting to know. “Okay, I didn’t tell you how many because I knew you’d be annoyed.” 

“I’m not—”

“And I made sure that Jimmy and Jey vetted everyone, so there wouldn’t be any safety concerns,” she offers, hoping that it ebbs away some of his frustration.

Roman has a lot of questions, but the most important one is the one he asks next. “Do they all know—”

“No,” she answers in a quiet voice. “Outside of like the obvious, they all just think it’s a get-together.”

Roman nods. That chips away some of his irritation. Solana’s mental health is not the business of all these damn people. 

“Good.” Is all he says, reaching for Dulce. “It’s best she stay in our room. Away from—”

“Hey, Uce!” Jey suddenly sounds, standing by the still open front door. “You got a ladder or something? Journee ass on the damn roof!”

————

All things considered, it’s a fun time. Solana enjoys serving people and is granted a major confidence boost from all of the compliments she receives over her cooking. It truly warms her heart, almost as much as the seamless meeting and introduction of Bayley and Naomi to the rest of her new friend group: Cam, Mickie, and Melina.

The ladies all seem to get along well, so much so that the conversation and idea regarding a girls trip to Mexico isn’t even something that Solana has to bring up. Some of the other ladies do it for her.

And it’s beyond exciting to her. 

The whole party is an ordeal. Mostly fun with some hiccups. Roman having to eventually delegate all of Jey’s……excited kids to staying in the backyard where they can be monitored. It’s an interesting juxtaposition. Jey’s kids with Solo’s children who are almost scarily obedient. Yes sir and no sir. Staying seated, almost afraid to interact with anyone other than their parents. Solo’s wife, Madi, is also not as friendly as Solana was hoping for, mostly staying with her quiet children. Her nose is turned up almost the entire time too, her arm looped with her husband’s.

Abuelita is placed in the house in the living room where she’s left to watch The Price is Right reruns after being upset at the lack of available substances outside of alcohol.

“What the fuck kind of Mafia boss doesn’t have any drugs in his house?”

It’s an especially fun time with the music, a combination of Rap, R&B, with, of course, Spanish music. The last of those creating many fun memories of Solana, Bayley, Melina and even Juanita sharing some classic Spanish dances with the other attendees.

Though there does reach a point where Roman not so subtly pulls Solana away from dancing, whispering something in her ear that’s far too NSFW with all the children present regarding her tempting him.

She stays by his side for a little bit after that, noticing how he really only interacts with herself, the twins, and the Wise Man. 

That’s it. 

Solana is starting to wonder if he really does hate people as much as he says he does.

A random little thing she does find kind of…..cute almost is the interaction between Nia and Bautista. There….there could be something there.

It’s not nearly as hilarious though as the interaction between the twins, Montez, and Trick. Trick and Jey somehow creating a new combination of  ‘Yeet’ and ‘Whoop that Trick.’

Roman, as expected, is the only one not amused.

He actually looks like he’s in some form of physical pain. 

The real challenge, however, is finding an activity that’s both appropriate and enjoyable for adults and children, especially with such a mixed group of people. Naturally, Uno is the first thing brought up, but logistically, that doesn’t work out for lack of enough cards for everyone. It’s also something that, according to Naomi and Bayley, would end up in probable murder given the competitiveness of the men. Bloodline and not.

A couple of additional ideas are thrown out before the vast majority settles on a simple, easy game of red light, green light.

At least….it was supposed to be easy.

“Damnit!” Bayley cusses as she and Jade are the next set of players to fail to make it to the next round. Jade rolls her eyes and mumbles something incoherent as she flips off Trick who makes a smart comment as she moves back by his side, taking her wine cooler from him.

Bayley comes near Solana who sits on Roman’s lap after having been eliminated in the last round. Of course, Roman opted to not participate, much rather keeping his eyes and focus on Jey’s kids who were also eliminated earlier on.

Especially a smiling Jayla as she sits there counting a surprising amount of money for a young child.

Huh. 

Solana wonders where she got it from.

Bayley shakes her head, downing some more of her coca cola. Like Solana, she’s remained sober thus far. “Shit is hard.”

“Not really,” Roman comments without much consideration as he takes a sip of his beer. Solana doesn’t know what to make of the fact that the stressors of the party thus far have driven her husband to drink. Her husband who rarely ever drinks.

She’s most definitely going to have to make this up to him, though she has a good mind that he’s well ahead of her with that.

Bayley scoffs. “Whatever, Reigns.”

Solana subtly moves her hand on top of Roman’s free hand that’s placed on her stomach, his arm wrapped almost protectively around her.

She starts to lean into his strong chest but ultimately decides against it, mindful of the image. Cognizant of the fact that their current position simply looks like the possessive Tribal Chief making known what belongs to him. A necessity given not everyone present is privy to the fact the marriage between the two of them is so much more than a business transaction, an arrangement common to their world.

It’s real.

As real as their feelings and love for each other. 

“Red light!” Sami calls out. As a self proclaimed ‘master strategist,’ he was easily voted as the one to judge who does and does not make it to the next round. He starts listing off the names of people who moved afterwards. Two of Solo’s sons, Cam, Montez, Carmelo, and Jey.

The almost drunk latter of which is not pleased by. 

At all.

Jey sucks his teeth. “Whatchu’ mean I’m out?” Deep scowl on his face, he argues. “I didn’t even move.”

A group of disagreement sounds, including Roman who says so matter-of-factly, “you moved, Jey.”

“Uce, listen, it’s all good. Maybe in the next game—”

“I said I didn’t move!” Jey snaps, cutting off Sami’s attempt at normalizing his elimination. “Now, let’s keep going.”

Sami walks over and almost nervously runs his hand through his unruly hair. “Jey, man, you—you got eliminated—”

“Imma eliminate your ass if you don’t get the fuck away from me!” Jey’s growing aggressiveness seems to capture the focus of the attendees, current and former players alike. “I don’t know why you’re even here!”

Sami’s eyes go wide as he gestures to himself. “Me? I—” He points toward Solana who has a small frown on her face, seeing where this is headed. “Soso—”

That’s clearly the wrong thing to say, a visibly inebriated Jey snapping yet again, “aye, you don’t call her that! She not your family, motherfucker!.”

Jimmy rolls his eyes, calling out as he prepares yet another plate of food. “Fool, would you calm your ass down.”

“Naw, cause I’m sick of this shit. Sick of him acting like he one of us!”

“Hey, I’m just as much Bloodline as you, Uce!”

Jey shoves Sami, forcing the other man to the ground. “Call me that one more time, and Imma lay your homeless looking ass out!”

Roman’s heavy sigh comes from underneath Solana as he lightly taps her stomach, prompting her to get up so he can stand. She does so, watching him roll his big shoulders and walk over to the now arguing men, deep voice declaring, “enough!”

At that, not a single watchful eye isn’t on Roman. The Tribal Chief. “I’m sick of this shit with the both of ya’ll. You want to act like kids? Then I’m gon’ treat you like kids.” Solana swallows. Everything about her husband is so commanding and powerful. From the way he stands, to the way he speaks, even his presence. One knows who he is without even needing to really know who he is. “I don’t believe in airing shit out in public. I believe in handling it like men or in the ring, but since you two can’t seem to do that, I want you to lay it all out because I want this problem fixed. Right now.” Roman ends his speech with an almost growl, the Wise Man rushing over as Roman turns away, his back toward Jey and Sami, head down, hands clasped together.

Power.

A wide eyed Paul looks between the other men, “the—the Tribal Chief said—”

“Of course,” Sami cuts him off, standing again and looking down a bit as he seems to struggle with how to start. “Well, uhh, okay, umm.” Solana briefly surveys the backyard. From the youngest to the oldest, all eyes are on the scene before her. “I’ll be the first to admit, there’s been a bit of a communication breakdown as of late, and it’s been pretty specifically with Jey, but I gotta be honest, I don’t understand exactly what’s going on here.” Solana neither. She just suddenly remembers it was Jey and Sami who got into it during WarGames all those months ago and still haven’t seemed to hash it out. “I–I like you. Man, I like you. I’ve always liked you. But, it seems ever since I joined the Bloodline, I don’t know what it is, but it seems you can’t seem to stand me, and I don’t understand it.” He motions to Jimmy who’s eating. “Jimmy seems fine.” He points out to each man that he begins to list. “Solo seems fine. The Tribal Chief seems fine. The Wise Man seems….not fine, but that’s okay. Everyone, for the most part, seems fine except you, and I don’t know what I did to offend you. I really don’t. But, whatever I did to offend you, but whatever it is, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “I just don’t want this to keep going on like this anymore.” He steps closer to Jey. “Seriously, I’m sorry. Whatever I did. I’m sorry. So, can we just be cool? Can we bury the hatchet once and for all?” Sami now has his hand extended to Jey. A peace offering, of sorts.

Solana finds herself waiting with a withheld breath, Bayley beside her, watching just as keenly as she is. 

It’s a good minute before Jey speaks. “Sami, you got about two seconds to get that out my face.” There’s a chorus of hushed reactions around the yard, Solana sighing heavily. So much for peace. “I don’t like you.” That much, to anyone with good eyes, is painfully obvious. “I don’t like your hair. I don’t like your face. I don’t like that shirt you wearing.” Solana can admit she found the black shirt with ‘the honorary uce’ written in red letters a bit….much. “Hey, hey! I don’t like you being around my family every single week. My dawg this, My dawg that.” Jey mocks, anger rising in his tone and body language. “How you think you part of the Bloodline, and you ain’t blood!” Solana swallows, redirecting her attention to Roman who has his eyes closed. She can see it. His own wrath growing at his clear directions not being followed. This problem is far from moving in the direction of fixing. “Newsflash for you, Sami. You never will be, Uce. You don’t belong here.” Solana looks back over at Sami, feeling bad for him. To be talked to like this in front of everyone has to be embarrassing. It also makes her feel personally responsible, to some extent.

She maybe shouldn’t have invited him. Especially if she knew how tense things were between him and Jey.

“Don’t nobody in this group like you. I’m just the realest one to say it out loud. You’s a fake ass, Uce.” Damn. “You know what the difference between you and me is? I shed blood for every single one of my family members here, because it’s my family! Not yours!” Silence. “Would you do it? Huh? Would you? I’m asking you a question! Would you—”

‘Why are you yelling at me, huh?” Sami finally cuts in, raising his voice a little as well. “Why are you yelling at me? I’m trying to make peace!” He’s outright shouting at this point, face turning red from his own escalating anger. He then points to Roman. “The Tribal Chief said he wants peace!”

“Man, I don’t give a damn what the Tribal Chief say!”

Solana can’t look at Roman fast enough. Her eyes widening in alarm as his head shoots up, his expression something both shocked and cold. Solana doesn’t rip her gaze from him, seeing how he slowly turns his head and then his body in the direction of Jey, who doesn’t look nearly as terrified as everyone else seems right now.

She’s almost certain she hears Montez mumble something about, “oh, that nigga dead now for sure.” Trick murmuring back, "rip to the homie. yeet for life."

Roman’s fury is palpable, felt and stretched across the spacious backyard. He’ livid. Naturally, she moves to go by him, to try to calm him down. Irritation is one thing, like his annoyance with the party. But, this is something different. Deeper. Heavier.

She doesn’t like seeing him this upset. It worries her for his blood pressure.

However, Bayley suddenly reaches for her, stopping her, subtly shaking her head. Solana starts to pull away when it hits her.

She can’t interfere. 

Because if Roman were to back or even calm down because of her, it would reveal the influence she has on him. It would expose some depth of his feelings for her, and that can’t happen. For a variety of reasons. So, she remains where she is, despite the coiling in her stomach.

She lets the Tribal Chief do what needs to be done.

Sami, surprisingly, is the one to try to interfere as Roman steps closer and closer to Jey, big shoulders squaring, fist forming at his side. “Hey, uhh, My Tribal Chief, Jey didn’t—he didn’t mean that. He just—” Sami is silenced by Roman shoving him nearly across the damn yard, the man tumbling to his bottom looking even more flustered.

But, the focus isn’t on him for long, because before Solana can even process what’s happening, Roman is on Jey. Tackled to the ground, Jey is suddenly under the onslaught of Roman’s heavy fist raining blow on top of blow onto him. 

Solana is momentarily taken off guard, briefly in a state of shock, both at what’s unfolding before her but also the lack of anyone trying to intervene. Even Jimmy. Even Jey’s kids who Naomi tries to herd and steer from seeing their father being so brutally beaten.

She doesn’t know how to feel, what to think, or how to respond. A part of her wants to call out for her husband, try to pull him from his fit of rage, but it’s when she thinks about it, really thinks about, she knows she can’t. 

She could, but it would only make things worse.

Solana hates this for Jey, hates this for her husband, hates this for both of them.

But……she also knows that Jey messed up. Really messed up. To say something so disrespectful is one thing, but to say it so loudly and boldly in front of a group of people is an entirely different ballpark.

Jey publicly disrespected Roman. Disrespected his Tribal Chief in front of people, thus Roman has to address it properly.

And violently.

Jey’s coughing up blood as Roman stomps on his ribs. She has to turn her head, to look away. This is the side of Roman she knows exists but would rather never see. The same way she knows he would prefer she never see either.

“Acknowledge me!” His furious voice travels through the yard and penetrates everyone’s five senses. It also makes Solana realize he’s been saying as such for the past few minutes. Demanding it. “Now!”

Jey is beaten pretty badly, blood spilling from his nose and seeped in between his teeth as he opens his mouth. It’s an ugly thing. All of it. And Solana notices the slight snarl of his lip before he forces out, “I—I acknowledge you—” he coughs up a mixture of phlegm and blood. “My Tribal Chief.”

Roman’s heaving, hulking figure straightens, his hair now down, having come out of his bun. The next thing to come out of his mouth sending chills down her spine. “If you ever disrespect me like that again, I’ll kill you.”

Solana doesn’t want to believe he’s being honest. That he’s telling the truth. She’d prefer to believe that he’s putting on a show of sorts, because he has to. Because he has to show his dominance. But, there’s a part of her that knows he’s not lying.

He means that.

Roman doesn’t look her way as he announces to the crowd, “party’s over!” She wants to be surprised at that, but she’s not. Maybe a bit disappointed. But, not surprised. “Everyone get the hell out of my house!”

He keeps his focus on the house and motions for the Wise Man to follow him as he stomps out, again without sparing her a single look.

Roman only needs to speak once, Solana seeing the people starting to throw their trash away as they clearly prepare to depart.

“This is my fault,” Solana finally speaks, turning to Bayley. Shaking her head, eyes watering, she shares, “I should have never—”

“Solana, it wasn’t your fault.” Bayley places her hands on Solana’s shoulders, explaining. “Jey….Jey should have known better than to say some dumb shit like that. I thought they were past all that.”

At that, Solana frowns, catching out the corner of her eye as Naomi and Jimmy tend to Jey. “What do you mean?”

“Years ago, like when they were in their twenties, Jey and Roman hit some sort of rough patch. I don’t know all the details, just what Naomi told me. But, I guess Jey was being difficult and almost testing Roman, in private and in front of other Bloodline members. It got to the point where Jey even challenged Roman for the title as Tribal Chief.”

Solana gasps. That’s the last thing she expected to hear. Even more surprising than the brutal beatdown she just witnessed. “What?”

Bayley nodded. “It was an in-ring fight, something to do with their Samoan traditions. Obviously, Roman won, and Jey officially acknowledged him. They’ve been fine since then, so I don’t know where that came from or what inspired it, probably the alcohol, but….just know it wasn’t your fault, and I’m sure Roman hated he had to do that in front of you, but he couldn’t just let Jey disrespect him like that.” And then, clearly wanting Solana to understand that Jey actually got off easy, she adds, “if he wasn’t family, Roman would have killed him. He wouldn’t have had a choice.”

And if that was the alternative, Solana is filled with an overwhelming amount of appreciation for what just transpired.

The lesser of two evils. 

“This was exciting!” Abuelita’s enthusiastic tone sounds from beside them, Solana seeing her accompanied by Juanita and Bernardo. “That husband of yours is a beast.” It’s said in an almost complimentary tone.

Bayley rolls her eyes. “Abuelita, please.” She shakes her head, asking Solana, “do you want me to stay behind and help you clean up?”

She thinks about it for a moment, remembering that Roman already arranged to have a cleaning crew handle outside. Inside is relatively easy to tackle. Definitely something she can handle on her own. “No. That’s okay…..I’ve got it.”

Bayley nods and reminds Solana to call her if she needs anything, the Tribal Chief's wife bidding farewell to some of the other attendees before briefly bringing her attention back to Jey. 

Solana happens to catch Solo saying something to Jey, prompting the latter to shove his little brother. Jimmy jumps in, ushering Jey away while Solo smirks. 

She’s curious about whatever it is that Solo said, but she’s mostly focused on Jey. For someone who was objectively in the wrong, he doesn’t look remorseful or contrite.

He looks angry.

————

It’s after everyone has left that Solana seeks out her husband. An intentional thing because she also wants to grant him some space to calm himself down. 

He’s in the bathroom, in the shower, based upon the sound of the running water. 

A glance at Dulce who’s sleeping peacefully in her bed, Solana hasn’t the slightest clue what drives her to go for the hem of her dress as she pulls it up and over her head. It falls to the floor as she reaches behind her to unclasp her bra, also allowing it to fall to the floor. And finally, with a deep breath, she slides her underwear down her legs, letting them join the rest of her clothes.

Stepping out of her shoes, she moves in the direction of the bathroom door, completely ignoring all sudden insecurity regarding her nakedness. Solana closes her eyes and swallows as she carefully opens the door, walking in, eyes shifting to the shower.

As expected, he’s standing there under the running water, back toward her, hands braced against the wall, head dropped.

Solana frowns. She can practically feel his distress.

Closing the door behind her, Solana is intentional about her footsteps, doing her best not to catch his attention. Something that’s highly unlikely but exactly what happens. Even as she steps into the spacious shower, water instantly drenching her just as much as it soaks him due to the several showerheads.

She’s nearly inches away when he turns around, harsh expression instantly melting into something of shock and confusion. Her lips go dry as his gaze briefly drops to her naked body, water droplets rolling off her heavy breast and down the slope of her pudgy belly.

“Solana….” His eyes shut as she moves toward him. Her hands rest on his chest, as she chews on her bottom lip. “I’m—I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” she cuts him off, shaking her head as the water continues to soak her hair, weighing it down just as much as his. “You don’t—it’s okay.”

Eyes opening, his expression is as pained as his voice. “I don’t like you seeing that side of me….” 

She knows. Knows that he’s always tried to be mindful of his temper around her, tried to always and only show her the caring side reserved just for her. But, that’s just it. “There’s no side of you that I don’t love, Roman.”

Because it’s the truth. 

Because if there’s one thing that Solana has learned, especially after meeting and speaking with Fetu, it’s that Roman never stood a chance. From a young child, he was groomed and tailored into the killer he is now. He wasn’t given the space and freedom to ever be anything but the best and to be unfeeling. She’s happy that with her, he has some escape, but she also knows that majority of the time, he can’t be that.

He has to be the Head of the Table.

And that’s exactly who he was in this situation.

Who he had to be.

The Tribal Chief.

“I’m not scared of you, Roman…” She murmurs, wondering if that’s part of the concern. She moves her hands to his cheek, stressing, “I could never be scared of you.” 

He seems relieved by that. But, still torn. Solana’s stomach coils a bit as he moves his hands to her waist and pulls her against him. Her eyes shut feeling his impressive length, even in a flaccid state, against her stomach. 

It gives her an idea.

Dropping one hand and venturing it down his chiseled, wet body, Solana shoves away her nerves as she touches him, wraps her fingers around him as best she can given his girth.

Roman hisses, eyes closing again. “Solana….”

He’s so good to her, always so good to her. She just wants to return the favor. Wants to take away some of his burdens the same way he never hesitates to take away hers.

Gradually sliding her hand down his dick, feeling his grip on her hips tightening—as well as the hardening in her hand—she licks her lips and murmurs a simple request. 

“Show me how to please you……”

————

After their lovemaking in the shower, Solana manages to encourage Roman to take a nap, recognizing his exhaustion from the day’s events. Something he only agrees to because she agrees to nap with him. Not that much of a sacrifice considering she’s probably just as exhausted as him.

And it’s clearly much needed sleep for her husband who doesn’t even stir when she moves to take Dulce outside to pee.

It just so happens that Solana is about to ascend the staircase, Dulce ahead of her and already heading back to the room courtesy of Jimmy teaching her how to go up and down the steps, that she hears the doorbell. She pauses on the first step, quickly and mentally going over who could be ringing their doorbell at almost 10pm at night.

She starts to ignore it, not sure if it’s a good idea to open it, but Solana also remembers the gate. The secured gate as well as security that constantly patrols the premises. No one who Roman wouldn’t want getting past, for safety reasons, would be ringing their doorbell. 

Especially this late.

It’s why she eventually settles on closing her up the front of her robe and walking over to the door, opening it. And when she does, she’s instantly wondering if it was a good idea. Two men. Both tall. Very tall. Built. One moderately more built than the other. Both their complexions are tanned, but the man with the bald head wearing expensive looking glasses and half a sleeve that peeks through his short sleeve polo is a brick. 

Solana has always thought Roman to be muscular, but this man could give her husband a run for his money.

It’s the other man though, long hair pulled back in a slightly messy bun. Similar to how Roman keeps his hair. It’s as he lifts his sunglasses from off his face and sets it atop of his head that she sees something so familiar. 

Eerily familiar. 

“Hi.” She finally finds her voice, clearing her throat as she asks, “can I help you with something?”

“We’re looking for Roman.” The familiar looking one speaks with a slightly thick accent as he asks with a small smirk. “Is he home?”

Solana’s not sure where it comes from, but something almost protective fills her as her grip on the door tightens just a bit. “What—what do you want with my husband?”

The slightly taller one smiles “Solana.” He lazily rakes his eyes over her in a way that’s not objectively problematic but makes her shift her weight from one leg to the other. “Of course.” She’s not sure how to feel about him knowing who she is, but it’s a short lived concern, because not even a full minute later, a welcome familiarity appears.

“Sol.” Roman’s deep voice calls her attention, startling her. She turns around to see him only a few steps above the ground, shirtless, wearing only dark joggers. Slowly, he steps down to the floor and she naturally moves beside him. Solana holds onto his arm as he focuses his attention on the two men. His face shifts into something of surprise. “What the hell are you two doing here?”

The one who identified her by name chuckles. “Good to see you too, cousin.”

Solana frowns. 

Cousin?

“Solana.” He looks down for a second, gesturing to the other two. “These are my….my cousins. Dwayne and Matteo.”

There’s a brief look of something in Matteo’s face, something that’s pushed away as he offers an almost charismatic smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Solana.” His eyes twinkle almost as he asks. “Solana….that’s Spanish, right? Sunshine?”

Her smile is a bit less reluctant to appear. He seems so…..pleasant. “It is. Do you speak it?”

“I do. One of the languages I picked up in my younger years. A beautiful language.”

She’s taken back by him speaking to her in Spanish but naturally, she responds in the same language. “Yes, it is. You speak it well.”

“Well, thank you. I take it you are native?”

She nods. “My mom was Mexican. She taught me.”

“What the fuck are you saying to her?” Roman cuts in, irritation present in his deep voice. “Speak English.” She keeps herself from rolling her eyes. A playful thing in intention but something that could be perceived as disrespectful, she’s certain. “Answer my question. What are you doing here?”

Solana is also partially curious what could have apparent cousins at their front door at such an hour. Something tells her it’s nothing good.

“We need to talk.” Dwayne answers, smile wiped from his face, tone solid and firm.

Solana looks up when she feels Roman tap her hip. Voice dipping a bit in volume, he instructs, “go upstairs.”

She’s not sure why, but there’s a level of anxiety that forms following his instruction. It makes sense. He clearly needs to talk business, and that’s something she doesn’t need to be present for. But, there’s something about leaving him alone with these two random men that makes her feel scared.

Scared for him.

She doesn’t want to leave him.

Roman must recognize this, thumb gently and subtly moving over her hip. “Go.” It’s firmer this time around, but she hears it. Hears the unspoken please in it.

Nodding, she offers Dwayne and Matteo a small smile. “It–it was nice meeting you.”

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t be the last time,” Matteo answers, eyes briefly flicking to Roman. “We are family, after all.”

Solana sees the slight snarl of Roman’s lip and almost palms his cheek, a comforting gesture when she remembers where they are and who they’re in front of. Clearing her throat, she instead takes heed to his guidance, moving up the steps and into their bedroom where she closes the door.

Solana is barely out of the line of vision when Dwayne, who had his eyes glued on her retreating figure, the switch of her hips and sway of her ass the entire time, comments to Roman, “I see why you haven’t come yet.” He smirks, heading in the direction of Roman’s office. “At least not to Italy.”

Roman gives a chuckling Matteo a look that could kill, if possible, walking without another word to his office where Dwayne already sits, plopped on the sofa.

“What happened?” Is the first thing Roman asks after sitting down at his desk. Because Dwayne wouldn’t have come all this damn way for something that could be covered in a phone or video call.

Matteo smirks. “Maybe he missed home.” 

Roman glares. It’s bad enough he has to be around him at his official office but now the fucker is in his home too. Today has just been a complete shitshow. “And maybe I should put a fucking bullet in your head.”

Dwayne sighs. “Brothers.” But, before Roman can spear him through the nearest wall, Dwayne gets to business. “We have a problem.”

“Obviously,” Roman hisses. “What is the problem is is what I want to know.”

“We had a shipment infiltrated. Stolen. 7 figures worth of arms. Eight men killed,” Matteo explains, cutting right to the chase as he sits in the chair opposite Roman’s desk. “IT found a phone on the scene. Russian.”

“The Russians?” At that, Roman scowls. “That doesn’t even make any sense. Our alliance with them has been strong for almost twenty years. Why would Knyazev risk that?”

Anatoly Knyazev. Leader of the Russian mob, the same man Roman secured and formed an alliance with as one of his first accomplishments as Capo. The older man is smart, seasoned, and practical, for all things considered. He rules ruthlessly but wisely. For them to interfere in Cosa Nostra business makes no sense whatsoever. 

“I agree,” Matteo voices. “But, the administration isn’t happy. The loss of product is one thing, but our men’s blood being spilled is another thing entirely.”

Roman curses quietly. Product can be replaced. Lives can’t. And while Roman feels nothing of the sort, the Administration views any and all members of the Cosa Nostra as family. From the little man to their top assassins. Loss of life is something they don’t stand for.

At all.

“They want vengeance,” Dwayne supplies, clearly reading Roman’s mind. 

“They’re not going to do shit,” Roman growls, slamming his fist on the table. “The last thing we need is a war with our biggest ally.”

Especially with very little proof outside of a damn phone that very well could have been staged, which is exactly what Roman is betting on. 

“I agree,” Dwayne sounds, “but guess who’s going around trying to instigate?” 

Roman doesn’t even have to think. “Luca.” This fucker has always been annoying, even in the few interactions Roman had with him, but now he’s older and even more annoying. Starting shit that Roman is going to have to deal with, and if there’s one thing Roman hates, it’s having to clean up other people’s messes. 

Matteo nods, leaning forward in his chair. “I told you. He wants you out. Bad. Personally, I think he was behind it.” Roman’s intrigue must show, his desire to hear more, proven by his continued silence. The other man explains. “You were right in that the business is the best it’s ever been under your command, but if he can change that, can make it seem like we’re starting to fall off the top of the food chain. Make it seem like you don’t care about the Cosa Nostra—”

“He can make a case to uproot me,” Roman finishes in a dark tone. 

“Or worse,” Dwayne adds, shaking his head. “Look, Roman. It’s obvious there’s some shit going on that we haven’t figured out, but until then, we have to be careful. Matteo and I are the only ones who seem to find the Russians deciding to start shit after years of partnership fishy. And to be honest, we need to keep it that way. Keep our speculation between us, because we don’t know who we can trust. Especially with Luca’s ass in the background scheming.” Dwayne leans back in his seat. “The Administration wants a briefing though. Wants to know how we proceed. If we strike back. And they’re not going to want to hear shit from the mixed breeds. At least not Matteo and I.”

Roman looks away, already knowing what’s coming.

“You need to go there. Make a statement. Not a phone call or video conference. In person. Make your orders clear. Reaffirm and remind them that you’re the Capo.” Matteo isn’t saying anything Roman doesn’t already know. Not that makes hearing it any better. “You can’t push this off anymore, Roman.”

“He’s right,” Dwayne agrees. “The longer you wait, the more it looks like your priorities are for the Bloodline only. That you’re only capable of running one, meaning it’s time for new leadership.”

His words drip with a truth that only has Roman’s anger rising. “Unfortunately, because it’s clear there’s an uprising brewing, you coming now puts you at higher risk for an assassination attempt. You’ll have to travel covertly. I’ll take care of that. I just need you to get on the damn plane.”

None of that is surprising as Roman provides his timeline. “Two weeks.” Both Matteo and Dwayne seemed far from pleased at this. Oh fucking well. “I have Bloodline business to handle next week. I can leave the week after.”

It’s not a lie. Jey’s little stunt will require a more public display of dominance, and what better way to remind everyone of who runs things than a public execution?

It’s time to grant Drew MCIntyre that match he’s been so desperate to have. Roman having his Wise Man make the arrangements earlier following Jey’s outburst.  

“Fine. Two weeks,” Matteo relents. As if he had a choice. “You’ll need to stick around at least a week. Or two. A day or two appearance will give off the indication you’re uninterested and being performative.” Again, not something Roman doesn’t already know, but again again, there’s an issue. A huge issue.

Solana.

It’s only been two weeks since she completed treatment and returned home from the residential facility. But, in those two weeks she’s expressed on several occasions the best thing about being back home is being with him.

With Roman.

And now he has to leave her. Has to handle business. Dangerous business. A situation that could very well end up in some type of attempt on his life.

That doesn’t bother him. Roman’s been attacked and the subject of assassination attempts his whole damn life. It’s almost boring to him at this point.

What does bother him, however, is Solana knowing about this. Knowing the real reason why he has to fly halfway across the world seemingly out of nowhere. 

Which is why she can’t know.

He can’t and won’t put that on her. She already worries about him. If she knew the real reason for the trip, she’d be terrified and beg him to not go. And not going simply isn’t an option anymore. He’s almost wishing he had just gone before. 

It might have been a hell of a lot easier leaving her then compared to now when there’s so much more at stake.

Fuck.

“This conversation needs to remain between the three of us. No one else.” Matteo’s reminder irks Roman. He’s not fucking stupid.

Dwayne senses Roman is about to say some out of pocket shit, cutting in, “Matteo. You said you may have some contacts to further investigate what really happened with the shipment, right? Reach out. See what you can find.”

Matteo nods, smirk on his handsome face. “Already on it.” 

Dwayne mirrors his expression. “Good.” He then gestures to Roman. “Let me talk to this asshole alone, please.”

Matteo scoffs quietly, standing up and adjusting his collar. “My pleasure.” He shoots his younger, half brother a wry grin. “Your wife is much better company than you.”

Roman shoots up from his desk, wanting to pitch something after Matteo’s laughing, retreating form.

“I like that guy,” Dwayne also laughs, lifting his hands in a surrender motion when Roman directs his murderous gaze to him. “Still a sensitive subject, I see.”

Roman plops back down in his chair, looking off as he asks his cousin, “you trust him?”

Dwayne’s answer is almost an instantaneous thing. “Wouldn’t have sent him here or brought him to your house if I didn’t.” It’s similar to his response when Roman first inquired about Matteo being sent as the ‘spy’ for the Cosa Nostra. “We’re gonna have to play this careful, Roman. I can’t describe it yet, but I got a feeling some shit is about to go down.”

Roman doesn't say anything, but that doesn’t mean he’s not listening. Not planning. Strategizing. 

“Solana….” The change in subject takes him a bit by surprise. “How she doing?”

Discussing certain details regarding Solana and her mental health is something few are privy to. Roman can count on one, maybe two hands who knew Solana has been away receiving mental health treatment. To most, she was hurt and shot that night at the lounge and has been away recovering. That’s the story Roman wanted put out in an effort to protect her privacy.

But, Dwayne is one of those few who knows the truth about where she’s been.

And why she was there.

“Better.” A part of him wants to say much better, because she seems that way, but he also doesn’t want to get too comfortable. To let his guard down. “She said it helped a lot. Medication seems to be making a difference too.”

“Good. She seems sweet.”

“She is.” The kindest person Roman has ever met. Much too kind for someone like him.

Dwayne sits back in his seat, wolfish grin on his face. “That’s a fine woman you got there, brotha.” And just like that, Roman’s older cousin is teetering the thin line between life and death. “Not sure I’d want to leave her either.” Brows furrowed, Dwayne asks, “what’s the Bloodline business?”

Roman quickly catches his cousin up on today’s events. Jey’s disrespect, mostly. 

Dwayne’s response, however, is another thing Roman wasn’t entirely expecting. “You did what you had to do. Jey knows how this goes. He brought it on himself.”

There’s not a ton of disagreement there. Doesn’t make him feel much better about it though.

“Well,” Dwayne releases a heavy sigh, standing up after slapping his thighs. “I better get out of here. That son of a bitch Austin owes me a beer.”

Roman chuckles. “Just one?”

Dwayne’s smile is as mischievous as whatever he has planned once walking out that door. “Or two.”

A smile breaks on Roman’s face as he stands up, sharing a brief hug with his cousin. He has a strong feeling the next time he sees him will be on Italian soil. “Be safe.”

“I’m not the one with a bounty over my head, brotha.” It’s both comical and serious at the same time, in only the way Dwayne can achieve. “Tell that fine ass wife of yours I said goodnight.”

At that, Roman cuts his eyes, shoving his chuckling cousin away. “Shut the fuck up.”

Giving himself a few minutes to settle and push away any sign of stress or frustration, it’s not until about ten minutes later that he returns to the bedroom.

Roman is unsurprised to find Solana sitting on the middle of the bed, earbuds in, writing away in her journal. However, she’s almost immediately aware of his presence, ripping out those same buds and shutting her notebook. She’s instantly climbing off the bed and walking over to him.

“Are you okay?” Her hands ghost over his arms, as if she’s trying to feel for some sort of injury. “What was that about?”

He shrugs. “Just business stuff.” Not a lie. Just a very vague answer.

“This late?” Truth be told, the work never stops in this life, but he knows that’s not exactly what she’s referring to. “It’s—it’s something bad, isn’t it?”

“No.” The answer—a lie—comes out much easier and smoother than he’d like it to. “Just something that needs to be handled, and I’ll handle it.”

 “But—”

“Hey.” He brings his hands to her waist, sneaking them past the open robe she wears, partially wanting to take it off her entirely. The two piece pajamas she has on deserve to be seen and not cloaked in any way. “Everything’s okay. Alright?”

She still looks concerned, and he hates that. Hates all of this. The lying to her, especially. “You would….you would tell me if it wasn’t….right?”

No.

That’s what he wants to say. The truth. Roman would and will absolutely keep anything and everything from her if it meant/means keeping her safe. Even if it makes her upset with him. He’ll deal with that.

He’ll take it any day, because her safety is the most important thing to him. 

Mentally and physically. 

“Yes.” Even if it makes him have an almost visceral reaction at having to lie to her like this. Even if it is for the better. “But nothing’s wrong, so there’s no need to worry, alright?” 

He needs to tell her about the trip. That he has to leave in two weeks. There’s definitely no way around that, but it doesn’t need to happen tonight. Especially when he needs to work out the details and logistics, because Roman’s been administering Solana’s medication to her every morning since her release. She doesn’t even know where he keeps it, where he keeps any of the prescription and OTC pills in the house. Because he has them all hidden, something he’s not sure he’ll ever feel ready enough to change.

He also takes her to her continued weekly therapy appointments with Gail.

All of that can’t be interrupted with his absence, but the same person he called before to stay with her while he was gone to see his aunt is the same person he still holds partially responsible for Solana’s attempt in the first place.

Bayley.

Roman won’t make that mistake ever again.

So, until all of that is figured out, he’ll say nothing.

Plus, he already feels bad enough for ruining her party. No need to ruin her night as well.

At least with the party thing, he can make that up. He will make that up. Even if it means what he has planned including more people than he originally accounted for. The thought alone is far from exciting, but he’s determined to do right by her this time around.

Even if it does mean forcing himself to behave.

Somewhat.

Solana is visibly less anxious, but the remaining apprehension seems to melt away the minute she presses herself into his chest. She’s instantly relaxed and so is he. Having her in his arms seems to give him just as much comfort as she gets from it.

“Roman?”

He runs his hand across her back. “Hmm?”

Peering up at him is a mixture of skepticism and worry. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Not exactly. “You said you’d try talking to me more.”

He did. And he will, but the full extent of what is now on his plate is a weight he can’t and won’t share with her. He won’t burden her with his woes. 

He can, however, give her something.

“Jey…..” Because that’s most definitely not a lie. The shit with Jey was the last thing he expected to happen today. Almost as unexpected as Dwayne’s visit. “The twins annoy me majority of the time, but they’re still….still my family.”

“You didn’t want to do that, Roman.” Solana is suddenly comforting him, her soft voice offering what he already knows to be true but appreciates hearing. “You……you didn’t have a choice. Jey….Jey should understand, right?”

“Should.” There’s a conflicted hint to his voice, because Jey should have known better than to disrespect Roman like that in front of an audience. Because truth be told, Roman would not have responded so violently had it even just been the usual group of Naomi, Bayley, and Jimmy. Even the Wise Man. Roman would have preferred a different, less physical route, but that wasn’t an option. The ‘choice’ Roman made was really the only choice he could make without looking weak in front of others.

Solana hugs him a little tighter, continuing to put him on a pedestal he has no business being on. “You’re a good man, Roman. I know….I know you don’t believe it, but you are.” 

That’s because she has no idea a fraction of the things that he’s done. If she truly knew the horrors he’s committed over the years, the lives he’s taken, she’d never look at him the same.

He sometimes wonders if she’d even still feel the same way.

If she’d still love him.

Solana leans up and kisses his cheek before taking his hand in hers. Sliding her robe off and tossing it onto the bed, she murmurs, “let’s go to bed.” Roman wordlessly follows her over to the California King bed, watching her move her journal and case for her earbuds onto the nightstand as she pulls him down with her. Naturally, Solana falls into their go-to sleeping position. Her body nearly on top of his, her arm sprawled across his abdomen and her head on his chest.

She’s partially soothed by the way he keeps his hand planted on the small of her back. Partially because something tells her Roman isn’t being entirely honest about whatever conversation he had with his cousins she’s never even heard of until this evening. In all the time they’ve been together, she doesn’t remember once anyone ever coming to their home this late to discuss business. 

Maybe a phone call.

Never an in-person visit. 

A part of her wants to push him on it, but she also knows the Jey situation is still bothering him, so she doesn’t want to overwhelm him. 

But, the other part, maybe an even bigger part doesn’t want to because it feels hypocritical. Him to be honest with her when she’s not being entirely honest with him. When she actually wanted to tell him something instead of asking again if he’s alright.

A split second decision being made to keep certain information to herself until she’s 100% sure, because she knows that he’ll most likely have to inform the Elders he’s spoken about a couple of times. And the last thing she wants is to send him with a message that ends up being a false alarm.

Because her period has been late before. Sometimes up to two weeks late. It’s just that this is the first time it’s been late with her being sexually active. With her having regular sex with her husband as a potential variable. Regular, unprotected sex.

But again, she’s not certain. Wants to give it a little while longer before she finally pulls out one of the pregnancy tests she’s had collecting dust in one of the cabinets in their master bathroom. It’s too soon though. Too many other things it could be besides that.

So, until then, she waits.

She’ll wait until it’s 100% confirmed, without a doubt, that she’s pregnant.

Ignoring that small, nagging gut feeling that she already knows the answer.

Knows that she is, without a doubt, pregnant.

[vidavalor]

The *Original* Original Sin Theory or... why Aziraphale's "I forgive you"s really mean "forgive me" and just why he wants Crowley's absolution...

Will this break your heart in a good way and make the end of S2 hurt less? more? both? idk let's find out...

I want to talk about what the Before the Beginning scene does to the Eden scene and what all that suggests about Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship... because it might be enough to upend what we think this relationship is quite a bit, at least from Aziraphale's POV, if it goes in the direction that I think they are hinting at in S3, which I'm basing off of where they took it in S2 in these scenes.

This also contains an analysis of That Scene from 2.06 that ties into lots of other scenes and some other meta related to the show and it's a bit long-- like, the mother of all metas-- but there are pretty gifs and I brought snacks? Just letting you know it's a long post but tuck in with some tea if you're in the mood and thanks for reading. :)

Under the big cutty thing...

Before we get started, a couple of quick warnings: I curse a bit in here. It's in the show itself but just letting you know it's here a bit, too. I also mention *very* briefly suicide ideation in the characters and also very briefly (one sentence) Satan's mind-control of Crowley in S1 in a way that might be sensitive for a sexual assault survivor. There is general mention of religious trauma and abusive relationships (not Crowley & Aziraphale's relationship) all over this. If you are okay with the show, you should be more than fine reading this but just wanted to let you know up front. If you're okay with that, read on...

So, the Before the Beginning scene contains a twist, in that we learn that pre-Fall Crowley is naive to Heaven while Aziraphale is the one who is wary of it. This is especially interesting because, best we can tell, no angel has Fallen yet. There aren't *explicit* consequences for asking questions yet, as Crowley doesn't think it could get him into trouble to do so... but *Aziraphale* does. Heaven in S1 and S2 is shown to be basically a fascist state full of bullies jockeying for power where the ones on top dole out all sorts of abuses to maintain a sense of order among the rank and file. We see the emotional and even physical abuse they dole out to Aziraphale and how little they tolerate any sort of dissent, even from an archangel, based on what they ultimately do when Gabriel doesn't want to do arma-bloody-geddon anymore. Heaven is basically The Kremlin. Toe out of line and they'll toss you off a high-rise while telling everyone how sad it is that you recently had a spell of depression and heart troubles as a way of scaring everyone else into submission, right? What's surprising to us is that Aziraphale knows this *absolutely* Before the Beginning and he's terrified on Crowley's behalf, since this place functions as a kind of mafia state.

This implies something really kind of dark which is that Aziraphale knows enough to know how to toe a party line and keep quiet about any doubts he has. He knows how to survive in a way that then-innocent Crowley did not. He tries to tell Crowley that questioning things is going to get him angel-killed but Crowley has a faith in God that's different than Aziraphale's was even before the Earth was fully created. Crowley believed in Her more than Aziraphale does. He doesn't think anything will happen to him. Aziraphale knows what will and this implies knowledge of the abuse of the system and it completely changes our perspective of Aziraphale throughout the rest of the series. We often think of him as either willfully naive or just desperately optimistic regarding Heaven's goodness but, in reality, he's neither of those things. He's something else, entirely. His actions are not expressing naivete or desperate optimism or anything else.

They are expressions of guilt.

And the Eden scene tells us why he has that guilt.

The Eden scene introduces us to Crowley and Aziraphale and the series itself and it has Crowley posit the central question of the show regarding the nature of angels and demons:

Objectively, when you watch this scene, you think this is about the tempting of Eve and the flaming sword. It is... but it's also not *just* about that. Because Crowley and Aziraphale are watching Adam & Eve venture off beyond the Garden of Eden in this scene. They're still within view so the flaming sword situation happened a matter of minutes earlier. Yet, when Crowley posits that central question of which one of them actually did the good thing and which did the bad thing, Aziraphale reveals that it wouldn't be funny at all if what Crowley is saying (that Aziraphale actually did the bad thing) is true. He's distressed about it and so Crowley, somewhat dryly, reassures him that he's an angel so he couldn't have done the wrong thing. (Crowley, of course, being a literal former angel punished for doing the wrong thing lol and that being the joke but also in there is also the layer of Crowley genuinely liking Aziraphale and trying to tell him that it's all okay and meaning it.) Aziraphale is relieved and this is the key bit here-- he says oh good "because it's been bothering me."

The tone of this is that this central question of whether or not he did wrong or right by Crowley and whether or not Crowley was wrong or right in his actions *has been bothering* Aziraphale and he phrases it in a way that implies he's been losing angelic sleep (so to speak) about it for a little while now. If this was *just about Adam and Eve* then Aziraphale's reaction here makes absolutely no sense because the camera also then cuts in their conversation to in front of Crowley and Aziraphale *to show us Adam and Eve still visible in the near-distance* fighting off the lion with the flaming sword. They literally *just left* so how could Aziraphale be all in knots for awhile now over whether or not he made the wrong call? He's not. You can argue that his decision here in Eden to help Adam and Eve by giving them his flaming sword-- by standing up and doing something in the face of God to help out other beings he secretly thinks might have been treated unfairly-- *is a direct response to what he failed to do back in Before the Beginning*...

... which was to stand up for Crowley.

Meaning: Aziraphale doesn't need to see Heaven's files to find out what happened to Crowley when Crowley fell because he was there. S3 is going to be about preventing the Second Coming and so plot allusions to the crucification (which had its own Crowley & Aziraphale scene in S1) will likely abound. Aziraphale was there when Lucifer and The Gang were tossed out of Heaven. To be fair to Aziraphale, there is basically nothing he could have done to prevent this and the best possible situation is that he didn't even have the chance to. The worst possible situation is that he's literally Judas and sold Crowley out, out of fear of being tossed out of Heaven himself. I tend to think it's more that he just didn't stand up and say anything in support of Crowley to prevent himself from being seen as on the side of the eventual demons. Still, just as Crowley thinks the punishment for Adam and Eve was harsh, Aziraphale thought that asking questions and being curious wasn't enough to send Lucifer and everyone around him to Hell to be damned for all of eternity but it caused an obvious existential crisis in him that he still struggles to totally resolve.

If he disagreed with the decision to cast out the suggestion box-happy angels, he was as "bad" as they were. If he agreed with the decision, he was condemning them and that didn't seem angelic, either. How to be a good angel, which is the only thing he had ever tried to be or knew how to be? He did what he thought must be right-- to follow what the other, more powerful angels said the word of God was-- and if it was Her will, then it must be what was right, even if it was *extremely difficult* to see how this lovebug here was really an evil, demonic creature of Hell...

Not to mention that Aziraphale was in love with WhateverHeWasCalledPre-Crawly!Crowley. (We will just call him "Crowley" for this whole meta, because that is the name he chose for himself.) And maybe Angel!Crowley went after the more glamorous, daring guys. Heaven honestly seems like both a fascist state and high school at once (is there really a difference? lol). Crowley describes how he wound up falling in S1 as that he "hung out with the wrong crowd" and Aziraphale in Before the Beginning honestly seems like he's been flying around watching Crowley make stars for ages, trying to work up the nerve to or find an opportunity to introduce himself to the beautiful hot cool arty science-y guy who barely looks at him when his other option for a view are nebulas... or Benedict Cumberbatch's Lucifer/Satan, whose "stroke of demonic genius, dahling" bit in S1 and dark assault on his fave Crowley while Crowley was driving had a real "Angel!Crowley went for the bad boy who were so bad pre-Fall that they wound up fucking Satan afterwards and friend-zoned angels like Aziraphale" vibes. Alternatively, maybe he didn't totally? Before the Beginning seems to be the first time they met and maybe after that, Crowley and Aziraphale became close. It's just that Crowley canonically also wound up sitting at the cool kids' table because they were the only ones questioning things and he wound up damned for eternity for it and Aziraphale?

Aziraphale blames himself for it.

He has blamed himself for Crowley's Fall for six thousand years.

When they speak in Eden, Aziraphale is being confronted for the first time with what has come of his nebula-joyous, freshly baked blueberry muffin of an angel. He calls himself "Crawly" now-- or that's the name he's been given-- because who he was is dead. His eyes are yellow. He's now a snake. He's maybe a bit sarcastic, a bit dry, and a lot more guarded and aloof but Aziraphale sees flickers of Angel!Crowley in there. He's *kind* to Aziraphale. He's still inquisitive, in spite of it being what damned him to Hell. Aziraphale, God help him, is still wildly into him and, ugh, maybe even *more* so, in spite of everything.

And 'everything', for Aziraphale, includes Crowley being a demon being Aziraphale's fault.

They don't talk about it. Ever.

They don't talk about it because Aziraphale thinks that Crowley doesn't remember. Crowley's memory loss of a lot of his time pre-Fall is canon in S2-- something we, the audience, will need to understand the whole picture when/if we end up getting this revelation in S3 of Crowley's Fall and that Aziraphale feels he's at least partially responsible. What's even harder for Aziraphale is that because Crowley doesn't remember his time as an angel, he doesn't remember their full history together. He doesn't remember how they met and protecting Aziraphale from the first celestial shower and all the times they chatted after that and if they were in love back then, Crowley doesn't remember it. Eden then becomes, to Crowley, the first time they meet... but then look at how while Aziraphale seems to think that Crowley doesn't know him while Aziraphale knows Crowley-- the moment that he pauses so Crowley can introduce himself-- *Crowley* seems a little bemused. Why?

Because what Aziraphale has failed to consider is that the one memory that the demons are allowed to keep, most likely, is their Fall, which means that if Aziraphale was there when Crowley fell, Crowley actually *does* remember him. At minimum, he remembers Aziraphale being there and looking stricken by what was happening so even if he can't remember more than that, he knows he's safe with Aziraphale and that Aziraphale cared about him, which would explain why he risked going to talk to with him on the wall in Eden. He knows they were friends and that Aziraphale is good and he can trust him. It's also theoretically possible that if Crowley remembers his Fall and if Aziraphale was there, it's a trigger to him being able to remember all of his and Aziraphale's time before Crowley fell. Aziraphale might not know this and because these two idiots do not know how to talk-- and especially don't talk about this-- Crowley hasn't told him. In part because Crowley can't go back and he doesn't want them to dwell on Angel!Crowley when Crowley is who he is and if that's a demon, it's a demon, and the whole system can go fuck itself anyway, as far as Crowley's concerned.

Aziraphale, though, is still back on "it's my fault". He thinks he literally took goodness from the world; that he participated in the murder of his friend and the love of his life. He has never. In six. thousand. years. lol. told Crowley that he feels like this because he still thinks that Crowley doesn't remember Aziraphale betraying him and he is terrified that if he told Crowley he did-- if he told him that he was responsible, in part, for his Fall-- that Crowley would hate him and Crowley is Aziraphale's only friend in the universe and Aziraphale is madly in love with him. He couldn't bear the loss of him. He can handle their occasional spats and disagreements, knowing that Crowley always comes back, but this? If Crowley knew that his Fall was Aziraphale's fault? Aziraphale thinks Crowley wouldn't come back from that and he'd never see him again.

In reality? Crowley either already knows this and has the whole time or suspects it or if he found it out, would forgive Aziraphale for it. If he knows, he already has. His counter-argument is, like, what were you supposed to do to save me, exactly, angel? You alone versus all the hierarchy of Heaven and God Herself? I'm *glad* you didn't do something stupid and get yourself tossed into a pit of boiling sulphur. You don't deserve that.

Thing is, though, because they've never had this conversation because they DO NOT TALK lol, Aziraphale thinks he *does* deserve that. But look at what's happened since he made the decision not to save Crowley from falling...

...nothing.

Nothing has happened to Aziraphale. He didn't fall for it himself. He didn't fall for betraying the angel he loved and he wonders every. single. day. why he didn't and the only thing he can come up with is that he must have done the right thing. *It must be* that Crowley did the bad thing and Aziraphale did the good one because Crowley was damned to Hell for all of eternity and Aziraphale is still an angel of Heaven, six thousand years later. It's not for Aziraphale to question God. Her will is ineffable. It's ineffable because he cannot begin to understand how any of this can possibly be just and that just keeps happening over and over and over and over throughout the years to come in every situation he and Crowley find themselves in, from Job to The Flood to Wee Morag and Elspeth to Arma-bloody-geddon, right?

Aziraphale begins to lose count of how many times he's gone up against God at this point. Gives away his flaming sword to Adam and Eve. Saves as many as he could during The Flood-- *with* Crowley. (You know they did.) Lies to Gabriel's face in the eyes of God to save Job and Sitis' children... and learning that Falling was political, really, in the process. Nothing happened to Aziraphale for Job's kids. He suffered no consequence for lying to Heaven and God because Crowley was willing to lie for him-- to protect him from Falling, where Aziraphale couldn't protect Crowley himself ages before-- and nothing happened. Falling, suddenly, didn't seem totally God-ordained it it could be tossed aside by something as simple as having a demon just choose not to toss you to Satan. Crowley didn't take him to Hell because he didn't feel like Aziraphale belonged there. It wound up all entirely within Crowley's control, which then made Aziraphale begin to question if God was even really behind the Fall of Lucifer and the Gang or if it wasn't just the thugs in charge of Heaven who decided to toss them out... thoughts he was terrified to think and didn't dare voice aloud, at least not then.

In another era, Aziraphale and Crowley stood there together to witness the torture and murder of Jesus Christ in the name of God, in a parallel to the Fall. What happened to Jesus? He was betrayed by his closest friend, then tortured and murdered by those in the government who thought he posed a threat to social order. Heaven as Pontius Pilate. Aziraphale as a kind of Judas, in Aziraphale's mind, anyway.

Jesus as Crowley.

Time goes on and he and The Demon Crowley form friendship in their own right, regardless of what Crowley might remember from before his Fall. They form their Arrangement off of that and Aziraphale learns even more that, often, no one is really paying attention to what they do. That no one seems to notice if Crowley performs an angelic miracle or if Aziraphale performs what has become termed a 'demonic miracle'... because, really, *they're the same*, though that's not something Aziraphale can fully admit. He cannot allow himself to believe that demons *are angels* because if there's nothing different between demons and angels than Aziraphale doesn't know anything at all.

Anything at all... He doesn't know what being an angel *is* and it's what he supposedly is so it means he doesn't know who or what he is, really.

He doesn't know what God wants or if he truly believes in Her.

He doesn't know what the purpose of all of this is-- why Crowley had to suffer, why demons in general have to, why the *humans* do. Why it all has to be destroyed eventually. To what end?

Aziraphale has the same questions Crowley does and sometimes, late at night, often a little drunk, he'll dare to ask them with Crowley, and every morning that he still wakes up and sobers up and finds himself still an angel when Crowley Fell for so much less than Aziraphale has ever thought or done, he wonders just *why?*

Why is he still an angel when he, really, is no different from Crowley? Why Crowley is damned? Punished for all of eternity for curiosity and innovation and imagination, while Aziraphale is still an angel, doomed to only have until the clock runs out on Armageddon before losing him for the rest of fucking *eternity* but, until then, stuck suffering watching him suffer while remaining an angel? Is being an angel at this point, really, his punishment for failing the apparently foul fiend he adores?

Does Aziraphale ever have any answers to these questions? Good God, no lol. He's six thousand years into this and he's in the same spot as Amnesiac!ArchangelFuckingGabriel in 2.01:

...would be okay if you could just be one near particular person?

Of course Aziraphale knows what this feels like. Of course. We know he does. And that's why he hasn't been able to make a real move in six thousand years-- because it's his fault, as far as he's concerned.

Crowley's damnation is his fault. Crowley cannot really love him, or couldn't if he knew. Not because he's a demon, though Aziraphale might have thought that at one point but he definitely was cured of it by events in 1941. The more time that goes by, the more Aziraphale knows that Crowley loves him-- that he's *in* love with him-- and the worse it all gets for Aziraphale because every day that he hasn't told Crowley that he didn't prevent him from Falling is another day within the last *six thousand years* of them falling in love and the betrayal seems to get worse and worse to Aziraphale. The time to have this conversation was on the wall in Eden and it still hasn't happened. Still, over time, he starts to realize that Crowley, if ever knew, would forgive him.

Because his Crowley has the kindest of hearts. He really does, and that wasn't taken from him when he Fell and Aziraphale finds every opportunity he can to delight in seeing that and making Crowley reveal it.

It goes against everything Aziraphale is supposed to believe.

Demons are not supposed to be good-- if they were, they wouldn't have Fallen. Yet, Aziraphale knows Crowley is. He never has truly believed that Crowley isn't-- even when he could have, at least at the start. He worried, maybe, that he had helped create a monster out of the most lovely being he'd ever known but Crowley just kept proving him wrong about that, time and time again. *Crowley* doesn't believe it about himself, really, because that's his own trauma from his Fall but Aziraphale believes it about him and that's often good enough for Crowley.

But, really, this is why they still haven't gotten together in six thousand years. This is why Aziraphale seems like he can never get beyond "I'm an angel and you're a demon", no matter what Crowley does or how he proves that there are shades of gray and also, that the entire system is bullshit. It is not that Aziraphale doesn't *know* that it's bullshit-- it's that if he admits that it is, if he stops believing in Heaven (even if he doesn't stop believing in God), then he's left with nothing but the crushing weight of guilt that he has for all the pain that Crowley has been through.

If he tells himself that Crowley Fell *for a reason* and that he (Aziraphale) was *right* to not interfere, to not try to thwart God, even if it would have likely failed, just on principle, to stand up for his friend... then Aziraphale doesn't have to deal with the fact that he made what he really considers to be a colossal mistake and that it has caused the continued pain and torture and eternal damnation of the being he considers his soulmate...

...which is why everytime that pain comes to the surface in something Crowley says or does, Aziraphale *cannot handle it at all whatsoever* and reverts to You'reADemonI'mAnAngel!Mode.

Example: Crowley's religious trauma on display in their bandstand argument:

Crowley owns this, even if he's still traumatized by it. He's saying it sarcastically, making a joke on a song Aziraphale probably barely knows, if he knows at all ("Unforgettable"-- Nat King Cole). Aziraphale *aches* at Crowley saying this-- because it reminds him that it's partially his own fault. And he can't. Do. Anything. About. It.

He's an all-powerful *angel* here but he can't change this for Crowley. He can't stop his suffering some six thousand years after his Fall. He's looking at sexy goth Crowley here and he's thinking about curly-haired, beaming, ball of light! Crowley and that they are *the same person* and Aziraphale *does* know that. He knows it and he loves him passionately and desperately and he is one of the most powerful beings ever in existence and he's standing there looking at the man-shaped-being he adores talking about how he still aches from the betrayal of his fellow angels and his mother God and *there is no way for Aziraphale to fix it* when he can mend broken bones and heal the sick and let their be light! all over the place. He can do proper magic and still, he cannot take away Crowley's pain.

This is Aziraphale's Hell. He didn't Fall but he's been in Hell anyway.

So when Crowley's religious trauma and pain comes out, usually in an argument like in the bandstand scene, Aziraphale does the only thing he thinks he *can* do, right? He's an angel. Still. Somehow. He's an angel and there must be some reason for that and an angel is not a demon-- an angel is a purer being, a healer-- and so he says "I forgive you". He doesn't mean it to be patronizing, even if it is. ("I am a *great deal* holier than thou," as he told Crowley at one point and that was the point, right?) He is trying to say "I am still of Heaven and if it's absolution you need, I can give it to you."

He is trying to say: You are not unforgivable to me.

The real lyric of the song Crowley parodies in the bandstand is what Aziraphale means, whether he knows that song or not...

Unforgettable/That's what you are...

*Crowley*, though, doesn't know about Aziraphale's inner turmoil because *heavy sigh* FFS TALK, YOU IDIOTS *breathes* lol, so *he* hears:

I still think I am better than you and you are Fallen, so you're not worthy of me. I can't love you, not the way you want. I love all beings because I'm an angel and I you know I'm in love with you but I can't *allow* myself to be because it goes against the nature of an angel and I've only done eleven thousand things that should have made me Fall over the years but letting myself be in love with you is the rubicon I won't cross, apparently...

Crowley knows by the time they're having the bandstand argument enough about Aziraphale's general religious trauma (not necessarily about how it pertains to Crowley's Fall but about it in general) to know that he spits out hateful garbage when he feels cornered and how to just call it bullshit and move on. ("I don't even like you."/"You doooo.") But he understandably walks away when Aziraphale pushes him away past a point he can handle-- and Aziraphale knows how to do that. He does it *intentionally.* The "I forgive you" is sadness because it's all he has to offer Crowley but he also knows it'll piss Crowley off enough to end the argument, so he says it intentionally to get Crowley to go away. In this scene (which parallels the end of S2 quite a bit, as many have noticed), Aziraphale is trying to deal with it all on his own, right?

He knows where the antichrist is. He's just not telling Crowley yet. He's trying to deal with it to keep him safe. He's doing it because he thinks he should-- that maybe, when it's something of this level of importance, that his job should be as an angel first, above his side with Crowley. (It's also worth mentioning here that Aziraphale is straight up terrified of Falling, not even just for being damned to Hell but because then, if he's no longer in Heaven, he has exactly zero power to even *try* to protect Crowley.) At the end of S2? With The Metatron?

Aziraphale does the same thing as with the antichrist for a time in S1, really.

The beginning of S2 shows us that Aziraphale has known that Heaven is North Korea since Before the Beginning so now marry that with its last scenes and see the arc that connects them-- Aziraphale does what he does out of guilt over what happened to Crowley to *protect* Crowley. He didn't want to do any of it without Crowley and when The Metatron finally offers that carrot, Aziraphale is suspicious as all hell (pardon the pun) and here we have this moment where part of him *wants* this to all be real, right?

Times change and sometimes, your parents who traumatized the living fuck out of you and didn't approve of your boyfriend, grow the hell up a bit and try to repent and mend fences. Maybe the trust is broken but maybe it can be healed and *as an angel*, Aziraphale is a being of goodness and hope and optimism. He's pure of heart, as Crowley put it to Nina. He *wants* that to be the case... but he also knows it likely is not.

Still... they can't run. There's nowhere that Heaven won't find them. It's no life for them-- no life for Crowley, in Aziraphale's mind, no matter how many times Crowley tries to get him to run away with him. "We can go off together!" begs Crowley, over and over, and Aziraphale's only really ever found that Crowley will only slither off if he's ticked off enough and only "I forgive you" ever really does that enough to work lol. He *means* I love you endlessly but you know this is impossible, you bloody maddening, gorgeous serpent! Will you stop reminding me of what we could have when it can never happen?! but that's not exactly how Crowley's taking it.

In the end, to Aziraphale, Aziraphale is an angel and Crowley is a demon and they are doomed to spend eternity apart and Aziraphale thinks he has no one to blame, really, but himself. If he had somehow saved Crowley six thousand years ago-- or had somehow been brave enough to stand up for him and Fallen alongside him-- they could have been together forever.

But he wasn't then and now The Metatron is here and it's time for Aziraphale to go back to Heaven and he knows, as he sits there drinking coffee with the being whose posse sent Crowley in a free fall into a pit of boiling sulphur, that Crowley will never, ever, ever, EVER go back to Heaven.

But he also knows that Heaven is here to collect Aziraphale and they are making it clear that there is no escape. There's nowhere to run. Everyday, it's been getting closer for six thousand years and going faster than a roller coaster for the last handful but a love like Beez and Gabe's will surely never come his and Crowley's way now.

It was always going to end like this. Nothing lasts forever. He told Crowley that, Before the Beginning. Six thousand years. That was all the time they had before the end of Earth, the place they'd come to call home. They found a way to borrow a few more years at the end of it since S1 and he got to dance with Crowley, their fingers brushing, and that is going to have to be enough because they're out of time.

The Metatron never needed say it directly but it was evident: they wanted Aziraphale to go to Heaven and they would say or do anything to get him up there and Aziraphale may have bought it for a moment but he's definitely figured out by the end of S2 that they need him up there not to become the Supreme Archangel but because his time as an angel is now over. The threat to Crowley is unspoken but omnipresent.

The Metatron makes it sound like he doesn't care if Crowley comes back up to Heaven with Aziraphale or not and he really doesn't and why would that be? Why would he be eager to have the two most troublesome beings in all of Heaven and Hell teaming up and getting in the way of his Second Coming plans, which he absolutely *knows* they won't support? Because they won't have jobs waiting for them up there. Crowley will not be restored to full angelic status.

They're going to kill them. Aziraphale knows it. He's known what Heaven is since Before the Beginning, even if he's been in denial about it for almost as long to try to assuage his own guilt over participating in it.

And it's a lot easier a goal for Heaven to accomplish if they separate them and just Aziraphale goes up to Heaven. If Aziraphale goes alone-- if he keeps Crowley from following-- then Crowley is not a threat to them if Aziraphale is gone.

They aren't as powerful apart.

Aziraphale knows that if Crowley comes to Heaven with him that they will kill him and Aziraphale thinks okay, this is it... this is my moment of redemption.

Six thousand years since Crowley Fell and I can finally make up for not saving him by saving him now.

I can go with The Metatron and let Heaven kill me and know that they will not threaten Crowley if they do because what they are threatened by is both of us together. One of us, alone, is less of a threat and the only problem here is that if I go... Crowley will follow me.

If I just go without telling him what The Metatron said and I don't come back right away, he'll go to Heaven, worried that something happened to me, and they'll kill him when he comes looking for me. He'll find out they've Book of Life'd me and do something stupid and my sacrifice to keep him safe will all be for nothing.

So what's our tortured angel to do?

Bandstand 2.0, right?

He's got to piss Crowley off enough that Crowley won't follow him.

He's got to piss Crowley off so much that Crowley *will never come back* and the worst part is that Aziraphale knows *exactly* how to do it.

He makes his own plans and if things get drastic enough, he'll blow up that damn halo, metaphorically-speaking this time. To save Crowley, he will break Crowley.

It's darkly romantic, really. He'll sacrifice himself for Crowley but to be sure that Crowley will be safe and not follow, he'll have to break his heart a bit first-- to further their misunderstandings in a season based on "I don't think your exactly is my exactly exactly"-level miscommunications.

So Aziraphale accepts The Metatron's offer and lets The Metatron think he completely believes that the offer is legit and maybe a part of him is still hoping that it is but he knows it's really not and that this is a suicide run. This is Aziraphale's Holy Water arc...

...and speaking of Holy Water... that arc from the perspective of this being Aziraphale's mentality... Crowley, tortured by Hell for what he did while with Aziraphale in 1827, then refusing to talk about it, showing up with a cane, sullen and depressed, asking Aziraphale for the one thing that would kill him and Aziraphale's unwillingness to understand that it wasn't completely suicide ideation on Crowley's part but as a way to *protect Aziraphale* and keep him safe. Crowley wanted what could kill a demon not to kill himself but to kill one that might come after Aziraphale. All Aziraphale could see, though, was Crowley's physical and emotional pain, that he could barely keep hidden in that era, and how Aziraphale couldn't make it better. All he could see was how he failed him and led him to this suffering. All he could see in a note begging for "holy water" was Crowley wanting a suicide pill, wanting to destroy himself, unable to take any more, in so much pain that he'd leave Aziraphale forever to make it stop. Aziraphale is blinded entirely by guilt and fails to see what Crowley is really saying, which was, ironically, the last time Crowley began to try to tell Aziraphale how he felt, which was:

I've been thinking-- what if it all goes wrong? (What if I lose you? I'm terrified of losing you. I love you. I wake up from nightmares of you being destroyed by the demons who just spent a couple of decades after 1827 not that long ago torturing me. I didn't know for sure if you were still alive during any of it.) We have a lot in common, you and me. (We're a team. A... group of the two of us.) What if it all goes pear-shaped? I need you to get me the magical demon-killing stuff so I have a weapon against *my own fellow fallen angels* that I can use in case they come after us. I would kill another demon and send every legion of Hell after me to protect you.

Aziraphale: I like pears.

(My God, they are so stupid. Please. I can't take any more lol.)

So, yeah... it's Aziraphale's turn for the holy water suicide run here only with an actual suicide run...

It takes the books in The Blitz for Aziraphale to really understand what Crowley was asking for and what he meant by asking for holy water and by 1967, he gives Crowley the holy water, in the one moment when *they actually talk*, as much as they can, about how much they love one another, that exists prior to the end of its parallel-- the end of S2.

So, yeah, Aziraphale "goes to tell his friend the good news" with a look on his face like he's marching to his death *because he is* and he knows it. His last moments with Crowley, in some of his last moments in existence, he already knows will be spent upsetting the man-shaped being he loves. He's got it all planned out. Not exactly the picnic of his dreams but it'll redeem him and save Crowley and that's all that matters to Aziraphale in this moment.

He will sound naive to the threat of Heaven and because Crowley doesn't remember pre-Fall, he won't remember how Aziraphale warned him against taking on the brass in Heaven so Crowley won't be suspicious, he'll be *frustrated*, like he was in the bandstand. He'll get angry. Aziraphale's goal is to get him to storm out-- but it has to be a really, really, bad relationship-ending storming out.

He can't come back after he drives The Bentley around the block like he did back in 2.01 and say "okay, fine, I'll help you" and Aziraphale knows that if he plays this right, he can make it so Crowley won't because helping Gabriel was one thing but asking Crowley to become an angel with him and pretending like they can go fix the broken system of Heaven is going to be Crowley's bridge too far. It's *the only thing* that Aziraphale believes is Crowley's bridge too far where Aziraphale is concerned and isn't that heartbreaking as hell? That Crowley loves him this much? And they never got to be together the way they wanted? That they were just beginning to get close to trying to figure that out?

That, hours ago, Aziraphale was asking him to dance and trying to ignore the signs of trouble around the corner, desperately wanting more time with him? That they are semi-immortal beings that always somehow seem to be out of time?

Truer words have never been spoken, Crowley. Little did you know, poor demon...

So Aziraphale goes into the bookshop and Crowley looks all worked up and wants to say something and some part of Aziraphale begins to hear warning alarms going off in his head because Crowley *never* looks like this-- is never this flustered, never this uncomfortable, never this nervous, never in a rush to say something-- and Aziraphale thinks no, can't be, we don't talk about this... even if, ironically, all of S2 shows that Aziraphale has been trying *for just that*. It was just a few hours ago that he was trying to Jane Austen a ball for them to use as a pretense to discuss their feelings because, in the height of ironies here, right?

Aziraphale was ready.

They'd had some time without Heaven and Hell breathing so much down their necks, even if the threat still loomed, and spent every day together and it was perfect and it was lovely and he knew Crowley would forgive him and Aziraphale was almost there, right, he was *almost* ready to tell him. He was almost ready to tell him he loved him and that it was him, all those millennia ago, who could have done something and didn't and he's so, so, so sorry and can Crowley ever forgive him? Is there any way that Crowley could ever forgive him after what he didn't say and didn't do when he should have? For all the times since that he's said things in anger when, really, he was madly in love and just full of his own issues to sort out? (Damn, Aziraphale, we're beginning to see your affinity for Austen heroes here...)

But he's out of time so there will be none of that now. Now is his karmic payback. Six thousand beautiful years with the being he loves and feels he doesn't deserve have led to Aziraphale's redemption being that he can sacrifice himself to save him. He can leave the world they love with Crowley and Crowley's *goodness* in it, as it should be. So when Crowley says he needs to say something, Aziraphale cannot-- CANNOT-- let him speak because he cannot bear it.

He suddenly fears that of course-- OF COURSE-- the one moment in all of these trillions of moments they've lived through where Crowley is about to directly say he loves him for the first time is the also the same fucking moment when Aziraphale has to destroy their relationship to save Crowley's life and Aziraphale will be dead after this and he cannot bear hearing what his life could have been. He can't hear Crowley say this right now or else he worries he might lose his nerve. He *wants* to hear it but if Crowley speaks first, Aziraphale might cave, he might be weak again like he was when Crowley Fell, he might fail him again, and he can't. Not after all this time. Not when he loves Crowley so much.

"What's that lovely human expression?! 'Hold that thought!'" he blurts out, in a callback to, of course, the moment Crowley saved him in 1941-- to that night where Aziraphale really realized for the first time that Crowley wasn't just capable of good or capable of being friendly towards him but that Crowley *loved* him and that he loved the Demon Crowley, whether or not he should. ("But somewhere in my wicked, miserable past," sings Frances McDormand as the Voice of God, from her apparent favorite film lol, "I must have done something good.")

Ah, yes. Played for suckers. Here is where it's important to note that in 1941, Aziraphale had no idea that Rose was really Greta and that he, in fact, was the one being played for a sucker. By the end of S2, though, it could be argued that he very much knows that The Metatron is Fraulein Greta Klauschmidt-- someone who presented herself as Captain Rose Montgomery, an agent of anti-fascist good, who approached Aziraphale in his bookshop and told him that he could be an agent of change, too. He could help save the world and stop the global rising tide of fascism represented by the Third Reich. He could even do so using his books. They plotted a sting together, in which he'd bring his books to a church and seem to give them to Nazis to give to the Fuhrer, only for agents to surround them and arrest the Nazis. Aziraphale, desperate to *do* good and to *be* good, falls for this-- he fails to see that Rose is really Greta, a Nazi agent who fools him into working for the enemy and getting him to help destroy the world in the process. Pretty obvious to see here that Greta is The Metatron in S2... but it's likely that Aziraphale knows it and is playing along because it's his turn to save Crowley, unlike what happened in 1941, when Crowley saves him and his books.

Crowley, in the bookshop back at the end of S2 in our present time, stops speaking at the "hold that thought", looking like he's about to be ill, and has to also be thinking of 1941 and the church now that Aziraphale has referenced it. Maybe, in some way, it's an unconscious effort on Aziraphale's part to convey to Crowley that this is a charade-- that he doesn't mean this, that it's an act-- but he really doesn't want Crowley to figure that out. It would defeat his goal. But he also doesn't want to hurt him because he loves him but this is the only way that Aziraphale can see to save him. So he starts gushing about his coffee with The Metatron, right? We all remember this pain lol.

Maybe I've misjudged him. (Aziraphale, we suspect you know that he tossed Crowley into hellfire and stole Gabriel's memories so honestly, the worst part of all of this is that you're so traumatized that Crowley is *buying* what you're saying here...) And guess what?! He wants me to be the new Supreme Archangel! And he said you can come! And you can be an angel again! It will be so fun! We can have a slumber party, Crowley, after days of doing good, and braid each other's hair!

Crowley is like jfc fml are you even serious right now? Which, of course, is what Aziraphale *was going for.* It's the "I don't even like you" and the "we're hereditary enemies" and the "I'm an angel, you're a demon" way of trying to intentionally push Crowley away but the new version of it because none of that flies with S2 Crowley-- most of it barely flew with him in S1-- because Crowley *knows.*

He knows that Aziraphale loves him. And he knows that Aziraphale knows him, which is to say he knows how to hurt him, and that's what this is but also Crowley just sees it as how much Heaven has hurt them both. How much they've hurt Aziraphale. Because just as Aziraphale looks at Crowley in the throes of his religious trauma-- "Unforgivable. It's what I am", etc.-- and wants to help and save and protect him, Crowley feels the same way in return when Aziraphale is like this. Frustrated, sure, but in just as much pain at how much pain Aziraphale is in and feels powerless to stop it but will do whatever he can to try to, yeah?

For Aziraphale, this is all going fairly well (it's miserable but in terms of goal, it's working) through "tell me you said no" but the problem is that Crowley is still pleading. He's still trying to work through it because they're an *us* now and also ironically of course this is when Crowley's been trying to do better with storming out lol so he's trying to couple-solve this. He's not just *leaving* like how Aziraphale had hoped. He had been trying to sell to Crowley that he could pick Heaven over Crowley and Crowley is just kinda... not believing it so much at first and, instead, is trying to approach it like a problem for the two of them to solve together, instead of as a decision that Aziraphale has made for his life that he's stating that Crowley can take or leave.

Which calls back to this scene in 2.01 at the start of this arc, when Crowley calls their life *his* life and Aziraphale counters with that he thought *they* had carved out a life for themselves *together* and Crowley answers: "so did I!" Because they haven't had a discussion about what they are, exactly, at that point, Crowley still cautiously calls *their* life *his* life, retaining a sense of autonomy, as if he's only making decisions for himself when, in reality, they are a couple who are trying to make a life together and have been doing so consciously since S1. Crowley calls that life "precious" and "peaceful" to Aziraphale-- beautiful, lovely things that they both treasure and want and find with one another-- but also "fragile". The threats to them still loom large in the background and they are still so afraid to go much further in their relationship because, in part, of those threats and how terrified they are of losing one another... which just makes the end of S2 even more brutal, really.

(*mantras* cottage in the south downs cottage in the south downs...)

So back in That Scene later in S2, Aziraphale is then just kind of stuck trying to figure out how to get Crowley to be so angry with him that he storms out and never comes back in the face of Crowley trying to very much not do that and then Crowley starts saying that he needs to say what he was going to say or he never will and Aziraphale *knows*, ok? He knows what Crowley needs to say. He just literally cannot believe this is going to happen right now. He honestly can't believe it's happening at all but right now?!

He knows before Crowley begins speaking. He probably knew when he told him to "hold that thought" a few moments before but he *really* knows now. Crowley has no idea that Aziraphale has planned for this to be the last time they ever see one another and to go sacrifice himself to Heaven for whatever they want to do with him to keep them away from Crowley. Crowley looks like he's about to pass out from nerves and can barely speak and just...

...six. thousand. years...

...I know we have all looked at the heartbreak of this scene from Crowley's POV here every which way to Sunday, okay, but just imagine you are Aziraphale, who has loved this being since before the literal beginning of time, and you blame yourself for his pain and suffering, and he's standing here, braver than you've ever been with him, looking into your eyes and telling you that he knows that you love him and that he loves you and he knows you both have known this for basically the entirety of your existence together and he can't pretend anymore. He doesn't want to pretend anymore. He knows things have changed over the last few years between you and he wants more of that. He wants to be with you.

The two of you are not even human, just human-adjacent beings who have gone native from the stars and clouds here, who live and love like humans, who know that maybe the angels and demons have it backwards and God's great creatures are the humans-- that it should be the good in them that you should be trying to emulate-- and Crowley had never been more beautifully, impossibly human than while he's standing there looking ready to pass out while asking you if, after six millennia, it might be alright for him to not hide how much he loves you.

How many times has Aziraphale imagined this by this point? A million? How many different ways? There's at least half of them when he imagines that he's the one who gets up the courage first but there are so. many. Crowley. fantasies. Ones in every time period. But always *a fantasy*, at least up until maybe very recently. Why?

Not even just Heaven and Hell and the threat of being caught but the fact that Aziraphale believes that Crowley doesn't know Aziraphale didn't save him during The Fall and how could he ever really love him if he knew? How could Aziraphale ever go to him like this and give Crowley everything he knows Crowley has desired for so long without telling him the truth about Aziraphale's role in Crowley's Fall-- but then, Aziraphale assumes, he'd lose Crowley forever? So this has always been a pipe dream for Aziraphale-- fantasies from a world where they ever stood a chance of being together-- never really something that could be reality and here it is, starting, happening *now*...

...after six. thousand. years. of living with this guilt and in the last moments in which he will ever see Crowley before he heads to his likely death, with no time to tell him the truth and beg for his forgiveness, no time to ever know what their lives might be like if they could be together.

As Crowley, unbeknownst to Aziraphale, mused dramatically, if not inaccurately, earlier in the season... it's always too late.

It's punishment, in Aziraphale's mind. That's what Crowley's proposal, his confession, is now. It's his Fall, whether he falls or not when he leaves the bookshop for Heaven. It's karmic retribution-- it's God, finally saying something, and what she's saying is:

Look at what you've done, Aziraphale...

Look at how he loves you.

He was never unforgivable.

You are.

Aziraphale might be erased from existence once he gets to Heaven and he knows that's a possibility but he basically is dying here. Crowley is killing him. Crowley has pointed that silver bullet gun straight at his head and fired but he's missed and the bullet isn't in Aziraphale's teeth, it's gone through him.

Crowley, here, tears in his eyes, asking for whatever time they have. An eternity? Impossible, unlikely. Angel and demon. One day, the war will begin again-- another war to end all wars, like all the ones they've fell more and more in love during throughout history-- but it might be the one where Heaven or Hell wins and they're doomed to spend eternity apart. Crowley has said before he thinks the real war is humanity versus Heaven and Hell and that sounds like he thinks there's a chance they could survive it but who knows? They don't know. They're immortal beings who live like humans and that's, of late, included a sense of mortality. They don't know how much time they have left and Crowley is asking for all of it. He is asking for whatever time they have left to be spent together, openly loving one another, and what he doesn't know is what Aziraphale knows:

That they're already out of time.

Crowley is proposing marriage unaware that Aziraphale is dying. It's always too late, Crowley had stated earlier but had hope that maybe it wasn't but it is. And Aziraphale?

Gah. Aziraphale...

He's never loved him more. He's never wanted him more. He wants to tell him that he wants that, too, that they can have it, that Crowley can have anything he wants, but it's not true. It's not true because they could run out the back door of the bookshop now and hop in the Bentley and end-of-Grease it up to Alpha Centauri and Heaven will still find them. Heaven and Hell will still be after them. Running away solves nothing and Crowley always, ultimately, anyway, comes back and this time-- this time-- for Crowley's own good, to save his life, Aziraphale needs him to leave the bookshop and never come back.

And the moment that Crowley confesses that he loves him and that he knows Aziraphale loves him in return and that they've both known this, forever, and asks him if he can be allowed to just love him, Aziraphale loves him so much in return that he'll break his heart to save him from dying.

Dying is... not on, as High!Crowley put it in 1827 lol, but suicide-ish attempts are, if it's Aziraphale's turn this time.

So he twists the knife. He hides the goats as pigeons and he looks at Crowley and does a bit of this:

...only with the exact opposite intent. In the Job minisode, Crowley cannot speak aloud his true intentions. (Something he can finally do in the S2 finale, when he declares his love for Aziraphale.) He cannot tell Aziraphale outrightly that he had zero desire whatosever to kill Job's kids and animals and doesn't plan on actually doing it and, in fact, is actively engaged in a bit of bait-and-switch to make it look like he's doing what he's supposed to be doing as mandated by Heaven! this time as well as Hell (a nice little extra bit of paralleling to the end of S2 and Aziraphale, there.) He wants Aziraphale to believe him enough to allow him to pull it off because saving the kids and the pets (and protecting Aziraphale from any harm that might come to him if he gets in the way of what Crowley's been asked to do) matters more to Crowley than Aziraphale believing him...

...and believing him here means believing *in* him. Believing that they are on the same side and it's their own side and they're in it together. Crowley has to lie to him here *and it works for a moment*. It's really important to note that *it works*. Aziraphale believes that Crowley can do this and that he wants to-- that he not only can but he *longs* (lol) to "kill the blameless kids of Job"-- but it's all in Crowley's wording. He isn't *actually* lying. He *does* long to kill the blameless kids of Job like how he killed the blameless goats of Job-- because he "killed the blameless goats of Job" by turning them into pigeons. So he's really saying to Aziraphale that he longs to *fake the deaths* of the blameless kids of Job and plans to in the same way that he did the goats. In that moment, though? It didn't matter if Crowley was lying or telling the truth. There was only one goal--

--to get Aziraphale to walk away.

To get Aziraphale to leave, for his own safety, and let Crowley handle this. Better that he misunderstand Crowley and be disappointed in him and think him a lost cause than to get himself into trouble. Crowley out here loving Aziraphale that much in the days of Bildad the Shuite. (This poor mfer. Six. Thousand. Years lol.)

So what caused Crowley's plan to save Aziraphale in the Job era to not work?

One of the pigeons bleated, right?

Aziraphale heard it and realized that Crowley hadn't been lying so much as he had been trying to protect Aziraphale from his plan of subterfuge against the Almighty and Satan. The difference is that there are no bleating pigeons in the S2 finale... there's just *a whole certain famous other kind of damn bird instead* and its *absence* from the scene is the big emotional gut punch moment. And we all know it but I'll gif it anyway since this is already a depressing meta (cottage in the south downs cottage in the south downs...)...

...and that *is* the point. Because unlike back in the Bildad the Shuite days, there is no bleating pigeon (at least, not yet) to make Crowley realize that all is not what it seems and that Aziraphale is trying to lie to him and get him to leave to protect him from Heaven.

As Aziraphale is like mortally wounded here by Crowley's confession of love and is so not going to recover from this, he's now got to not only get Crowley to leave feeling like Aziraphale rejected being their own team for Heaven, he has to now do it with all of it out in the open-- with Crowley having openly confessed love for him, with him having asked for them to be together. He's not just going to have to frustrate Crowley more than he ever has before and get him to leave more angry than he was before, he has to, instead, smash into little tiny bits the very beautiful, very passionate, beating heart of the being he has loved since he met him *making the stars* in the bloody sky here...

The only way to get Crowley to go now is to make Crowley think he's rejecting the idea of loving him. Aziraphale honestly can't even sell the idea that he *doesn't* love Crowley because Crowley won't believe it-- he knows Aziraphale does and he's said as much in his whole marriage proposal here. So it has to be that Crowley thinks Aziraphale chose Heaven over loving him. Chose being an angel. That he really meant all of those 'hereditary enemies' and 'you're a demon' moments and to sell that, he sells it.

(You're a dark horse, Mr. Fell, Nina said of him in 2.01... the same turn of phrase Crowley uses when surprised by the secret skills and narrative power of Jane Austen later on in the pub.)

Aziraphale does love himself a bit of theatre. A bit of a disappearing act. The West End, The West End...

...our Nefertiti-fooling fellow...

He sells it with:

Well, of course you said no, *you're* the bad guys...

Come with me... I'll run, it you can be *my second-in-command*...

We can be together. *Angels*. Doing *good*...

...oh, Crowley... nothing lasts forever...

For his final act, The Marvelous Mr. Fell will saw his ineffable husband's heart in half by spewing a litany of everything he can think of to say that will piss him off enough to make him leave the bookshop broken-hearted enough to never come back.

Only someone put a miracle blocker on here because, try as he might and good heavens (pardon the pun), Aziraphale is *trying* here...

...this turnip is not turning into a damn inkwell.

Crowley finally starts to go-- it's looking promising. Finally, Aziraphale thinks, this misery might end. Six thousand years of wanting to speak of all of this between them and hoping for some happiness when-- if-- it could maybe someday arrive, if it even could-- and it's the worst moment of Aziraphale's existence and he knows it is the same for Crowley.

Crowley stops and the "do you hear that?" And no, Aziraphale doesn't hear anything, he just has never been more upset and Crowley needs to just go because Aziraphale can't handle another moment of this, how could it possibly get worse?

Nightingales. Of course.

A call back to S1's "no more world-class composers/little restaurants where they know you/gravalax and dill sauce/old bookshops" but this time, it's "no nightingales". There's Armageddon coming that neither of them know about in this moment. It's still a 'someday, they'll try again' concept to them in this scene, not an extremely immediate threat, as Aziraphale doesn't learn about The Second Coming until after this. So the end of the world that Crowley references here is the end of *their* world and that means no nightingales. No romance. No *them*, together. Worth remembering that Crowley thought, up until maybe what? Five minutes ago? That they were headed to breakfast at the Ritz together. They should have been sitting there together *in this moment*, is what he's saying. Miracling the pianist to play "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" and gazing at one another over teapots and mimosas and croissants.

That's gone, since you chose Heaven instead, is what Crowley states and Aziraphale knows it because, God help him (no, literally, GOD HELP HIM! WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GO OFF TO THIS SEASON, FRANCES?!), it's what he's *trying* to make happen.

You idiot, says the once-Bildad the Shuite, who thought he was taking his beloved to the ox rib special this morning and not getting dumped for an old floating head and the cinematic world's most contentious to-go cup of coffee, we could have been... us.

Not really a part of the theory here, just the observation that Crowley's confession/proposal begins with him unable to say "a couple", in case this all goes pear-shaped and he needs to have never said something that romantic, so he says instead "a team", "a group-- of the two of us". He says it without saying it. But, by the end? He just says "us." He *present*-tenses it. He's like forget everything else, angel, we could have just kept on being us because we both know what we are. We don't need to find the right turn of phrase or even the most specific human word for it. We are just *us* and we could have kept on with that but you chose the mentality of your abusive family and asked me to be what I'm not and I still love you because I *know* you but I can't be with you like that and *you* know that.

And he kisses him. Because Franny McD says you ain't suffered enough yet, Aziraphale lol. Should I just gif it while we're miserable? If you've read this far, a month has passed and hopefully, you've taken breaks and I do apologize but I'm gonna gif it because yeah. Here we go, folks...

God, make it stop, pleads Aziraphale to literal God and here comes Crowley with the S1 wall slam parallel, all dammit, angel, I know you've wanted us to snog for centuries and this is our last chance.

I know people have opinions about this kiss and I know we're all posting them here, obviously myself included, but while I've seen a lot of like... 'Crowley knows it's the only time they ever will be able to because Aziraphale is leaving him for Heaven' and 'Crowley wants to remind Aziraphale what he's giving up and could have had' and 'Crowley tries the kiss to see if it'll change Aziraphale's mind' takes-- and I agree with all of those things and think they're all right-- I've not seen a lot of 'Crowley kisses Aziraphale *for Aziraphale*' and I think that's a big part of it, too.

Crowley really isn't stupid. Not when it comes to Aziraphale wanting him. It would be honestly hard to spend a zillion lifetimes on Earth and not get it after like...

And Crowley understands Aziraphale's particular brand of religious trauma more than most, since he has a variant version of it himself. He understands that where his whole thing is that he's very much *not* an angel anymore, that Aziraphale's identity is wrapped up in being one and the conflicts he has with Heaven and while Crowley is not yet quite hearing what Nina said-- that she just got out of an abusive relationship and that she's not yet ready to be with Maggie and needs time-- and marrying that to Aziraphale and Heaven (especially because Aziraphale is showing exactly zero signs of trying to get out of his relationship with Heaven lol), Crowley wants Aziraphale to have had what he (Aziraphale) wanted, even if it was for only a moment. He can't go with him. This is the *one* scenario where Crowley cannot follow where Aziraphale goes, where he can't come to him and rescue him, because Aziraphale has said he doesn't want him to. Aziraphale wants to go and do this and the only way he'll take Crowley is if Crowley wants to become an angel again, which Crowley will not do.

And damned if there isn't a part of Aziraphale that thinks that if The Metatron can really be trusted, wouldn't that be something? That if he gets up there to Heaven and he really is made Supreme Archangel and if Crowley changes his mind, if he comes back, like he always does... if he storms out and leaves but then misses him too much and takes the elevator up... then maybe Aziraphale could make him an angel again and while Crowley hears in Aziraphale offering that you aren't good enough as a demon-- you're not good, period and even if he doesn't totally believe that Aziraphale really thinks that but knows Aziraphale has enough religious conflict that it's a problem for their relationship, what Aziraphale *really* means is... I could fix it.

I could go back and un-Fall you. I could take away your pain. I could stop your suffering. I'd have the *power* to do it when I don't right now and it kills me, every day. I could right the wrong I did, the sin I committed-- the real Original Sin-- six thousand years ago when I betrayed you, when Heaven betrayed you.

I could do right by you, the way She never did.

I am going to Heaven to either have the power to do that or to be obliterated into non-existence and I don't totally know which, though surviving is not looking promising, but all I know is that it's too dangerous for you to follow me right now until I do know so I'd rather hurt you than see you dead.

You want to be with me and I am afraid it will lead to your destruction so I need to say anything to put the breaks on your attempt and make you back off. To a lesser extent, I've done it before. Can do again.

Only this time, no hope of the possible, future picnic, I'm afraid...

It really is the worst possible Aziraphale nightmare here like... everything he's ever wanted. Six millennia of wanting to pull Crowley close and he has to reject him or Crowley could die. Fanfic season here said Coffee Shop AU and also a reverse-Fuck or Die for the ages. People complaining that it's awkward? YES. It's supposed to be. Crowley has no idea that Aziraphale is facing a round of sudden death here and was just hoping for his one fabulous kiss and vavoom. Even if it didn't change anything-- he wanted *Aziraphale* to feel that. To know how much he's wanted this for so long and to have it, even if they can't again. The intent is terribly romantic, as is Aziraphale flailing in the middle of it and giving in because he is made of strong, halo-exploding stuff here but he's wanted this forever. He goes up on his toes, he leans in, his hands flail around and he touches Crowley's back. He *shouldn't* do any of this if he's trying to meet his goal of getting Crowley to leave because it gave Crowley hope. It might have even been what motivated Crowley to stay outside and not go right away, or at least a part of it. But Aziraphale had to because he loves him and he couldn't help it.

Then, *sob*, The Michael Sheen eviscerating all of us here...

For anyone who might still be saying that is an "I didn't want his kiss" face... hard, HARD, VERY HARD disagree. That is "I didn't want *this* kiss, like this, right now." That is a man-shaped being who was just kissed by the love of his life for what may have been the first time but, at minimum, is for what he believes will be the *last* time. (I'm still out here holding out some hope for Blitz, Part 3-- a nice first kiss after they kill some Zombie Nazis with Chekhov's derringer in the bookshop but I digress...somehow, even if this entire long meta is one long digression, I digress lol...)

It's the face of a man gutted by the fact that this, in his wildest dreams, was not supposed to happen like this and he's been alive for damn ever at this point so he's had *all* the wildest dreams. And a lot of them, let's be real, have centered around Crowley doing just this. Exactly this. Crowley ain't wrong with the 'grabbing him by the collar and kissing him senseless in the middle of the bookshop' thing. He's wanted to do it for centuries. And the middle of the bookshop bit? That's important, too. This is their home. It's *their* home, even if Crowley is technically homeless. It's safe for him in here and Aziraphale has made it so. It's where they've spent thousands of hours together, happy and safe in each other's company, and here they are, bouille-bouile-bouile-baby-ing finally and it's a complete and utter, unmitigated trash truck dumpster fire.

Honestly, this was a better kiss than in S2 lol. S1 laying down though how long they've been dreaming about it (and having Crowley start listing animals that are in Aziraphale's nonsense magic spell, like he flashes back to 1941 when thinking about the end of the world and kissing Aziraphale in the bookshop... so you can see why I'm moderately hopeful that maybe they did kiss then, once, before then trying to never again until Crowley kisses Aziraphale in 2.06.)

I'm going to bring this back around now to the comparison I made above with Crowley and Jesus and talk about how 2.06's end scenes are also like the last temptation of Christ. Good Omens makes it pretty clear that Aziraphale is the tempter, really, of the two of them, in their relationship. Crowley can't say no to him and Aziraphale has learned it and loves to puppy eyes Crowley into anything he wants.

Crowley knows it and is fine with it. He's smitten and happy to be wrapped around Aziraphale's finger. Crowley has tempted Aziraphale and we see that in S2 with the ox rib. He is, himself, just by existing, tempting to Aziraphale. But in terms of temptation carrying with it a bit of manipulation and *that* kind of tempting being what's demonic in nature? Then Aziraphale is, and always has been, the demon of the two of them. This is true into the end of S2, as while there is almost nothing that Crowley would deny Aziraphale, there is really only one thing and that's to change who he is for him. To become an angel again, to work for Heaven again, after what they've done to him and Aziraphale. So the end of S2 is then Aziraphale's temptation-- it's a test, of sorts, for Crowley, even if Aziraphale doesn't intend for it to be. Crowley resists the temptation. Even for Aziraphale, he won't follow the path of darkness for himself and become something he's not. Crowley-Jesus. (Aziraphale-Satan S3 incoming lol.)

And if you've been reading all of this right then you know what happens next and what it means from the POV of this guilt-ridden Aziraphale...

I honestly don't think Aziraphale is really that angry *with Crowley* at this point-- I think he's just angry. He's reached his limit and then some. He has a lot of simmering, under the surface rage on a good day that only bubbles over when he's stressed by a situation he can't control and here is the ultimate one, really. He's a little mad at Crowley because they've waited countless years for that and in an argument, while ironically probably kind of perfect for them, is not really how *either* of them wanted it to be... but, mostly, Aziraphale is just angry that he can't have any of those moments at all. That they're out of time. That they had all this time and they never really could be safely together and that he's been haunted for six thousand years of the image of his fluffy cloud of redheaded sunshine, bloodied and stricken, and then tossed to Hell while Aziraphale was powerless to stop it. He's never seen those eyes since and he loves the snake ones. He loves all of Crowley with all he has but he's never been allowed to *have* him and never felt safe enough to try and now it's all over. And he still has to make Crowley fucking leave this bookshop for his plan of self-sacrifice to fucking work here so...

...I forgive you. It's the worst thing he can think of. The thing Crowley always hates. The thing that he knows makes Crowley feel lesser and demonic, even if Aziraphale has always, always meant it as an I love you. He even spits it out to Crowley with an almost self-deprecating, referential tone to it-- like "here we go again-- you say you love me and I say 'I forgive you' because I can't say anything else, can I?" The anger is laced underneath it and all the pain but he's intentionally referencing how this this the thing he says whenever Crowley says they can be their own side. He's trying to claim that nothing has changed in all of these years, when they both know that everything has changed since S1 and the bandstand. That's what makes it hurt both of them even more. Aziraphale chooses to say "I forgive you" because he knows that Crowley has never heard it for how Aziraphale means it and Aziraphale is a little bitter about it and lets it show in the moment, since Aziraphale's I forgive you always really means...

I can't stand to see you in pain and if there's any power in me as an angel to stop it, then I will do that so I forgive you and may that make it easier, may that make it all okay, even though I know it won't.

And just before saying I forgive you, Aziraphale's mouth works and he almost-- almost-- says I love you instead... what Crowley would really give anything to hear.

You can see the 'l' forming there, the beginning of "love", what he *really* wanted to say... what Crowley himself didn't even actually explicitly say. Crowley said it without saying it. He called them a couple without saying that word, asked for eternity without fully asking for it, said he loved him by acknowledging that they had both been pretending, but Crowley was terrified and so he said the things in a way that made it obvious what he was saying and asking for but, so unused to not speaking in code are they, that Crowley didn't say he loved Aziraphale, not directly. He did say it. He just didn't say it in those words.

And for a second, Aziraphale almost does.

He can't stand that he's breaking Crowley's heart. He can't stand that Crowley has kissed him and Aziraphale only briefly kissed him back, only barely touched him, when he really wanted to go at him like an ox rib and never let him go, and he starts to say the truth because no part of him really *wants* to be lying like this to Crowley. But he stops. And not even just because he needs Crowley to leave the shop to save his life but because, in the last four minutes, Crowley has confessed love and proposed and they've kissed and Aziraphale, pretty sure he actually died somewhere in the middle there and he's now stuck somewhere in one of Dante's worst circles of Hell lol, just cannot *also* have this be the moment where he says "I love you" to Crowley.

It's not even false hope that maybe they'll somehow have more time. With Heaven breathing down his neck in the form of The Metatron, Aziraphale has no real hope of that. He just always dreamed of telling him and not like this. He doesn't want Crowley to hear it like this, either, not as a part of a rejection. The anger, instead, surfaces, because why can't he and Crowley just *have* this?! How the hell did Gabriel and Beezlebub get to fuck off to Alpha Centauri after dating for ten minutes when he and Crowley have spent bloody eons in queer pining hell over here? What did they ever do that was so wrong to deserve this? Why was Crowley asking questions so terrible? Why have they had to spend thousands of years pretending not to love each other as if love-- the epitome of the angelic-- was unholy? Why, Aziraphale is wondering, now that they are out of time, did he ever spend so many years terrified when, in the end, it all ended tragically anyway?

How many of those years could Aziraphale have spent loving Crowley the way they ought to have been able to have and denied themselves of for so long?

And then Crowley finally does it. Tells him "don't bother" about the forgiveness-- about the love, as Aziraphale has always meant it-- and he leaves. It worked. The anger and pain and saying "I forgive you" after that kiss... it worked. And Crowley leaves and Aziraphale, alone, is a complete mess of broken and furious and broken some more.

Crowley, as we know, doesn't get to see this moment. Muriel does! Great for fic! Hilarious by show standards that the new angel who is literally being ordered to take over Aziraphale's home against his will is who witnesses the aftermath of the intimate moment our angel has been craving, oh, just since before the dawn of humanity over here.

He touches his lips, his hand trembles... have you all noticed that Aziraphale is literally fucking *tasting and eating* what of himself Crowley left in his mouth here? He's pulling every bit of Crowley to his tongue from his teeth and *swallowing*, like he knows it's all of him he'll ever again be able to consume, like he's committing how he tastes to memory for the last like, who knows, ten? fifteen? twenty minutes? of his own existence that he knows he probably has left...

Jesus fucking Christ, Michael Sheen...

This is all without yet mentioning the single most under-analyzed line in S2 that calls into question a ton of stuff, which is this beauty from Shax, right off the top of 2.01:

"Beezlebub's put some of the lesser demons on half-rations."

What does this have to do with Aziraphale consuming Crowley's kiss like it's the most scrumptious thing he's ever tasted (because it is) and being furious that it'll be their last?

Because that Shax line casually confirms that demons eat. Do they eat human food or some sort of demon food or both? Who knows, really, but they're *supposed* to eat. Ok, but is it just a demon thing? No, because it ties to Crowley's comments in S1 about how he complained that the food wasn't really that good lately when hanging out with Lucifer and The Gang, which then implies that, at least back then, *angels* ate, too. Eating was a normal thing. Over time, though, we know that the higher angels have come to see eating as human and pedestrian and not something befitting of an angel. Some demons eat-- even Crowley eats, if less than and differently than Aziraphale-- but the angels think it's beneath them and if we have confirmation via Shax in S2 that they are supposed to be eating and basically only don't die because they're immortal beings and not human, even if they have human corporations, then the show is saying that all of these angels are fucking starving themselves.

They're doing what they're told and denying their own nature and their own needs in the process.

S2 also shows that with the ox rib, right?

Aziraphale went *at* that thing. He'd never eaten at all in a couple thousand years after being told it was un-angelic and so when he tasted food for the first time, he went so overboard that he's been Mr. Prim and Proper with his napkins and table etiquette ever since out of embarrassment over Crowley watching him food orgasm once-- and that's the metaphor there, as we've all figured out. Our show that has a sex worker named Mrs. Sandwich is all about its ongoing food-as-sex metaphor. S2 even opens with the hilarious turnabout from S1 as a "thank you for my pornography", "why do you consume *that*?" Gabriel shows up at the bookshop-- naked-- and has a food orgasm trying hot chocolate for the first time.

Gabe, babe, Aziraphale does not need the play-by-play here....

Mah point is... mah point is that Tumblr is maxing me at 30 images per post and so you'll just have to picture Crowley slurring "dolphins" while I get to my actual point here...

Mah point is while this is a whole separate analysis almost and one that many of you have already done in different ways re: food & sex on the show, my point here is that starving yourself of food in Good Omens is analogous to being touch-starved or love-deprived and before someone yells at me about how angelic beings don't necessarily need sex or are by nature not into sex unless they make an Effort, I agree with you and Neil Gaiman. I'm just also saying the show is suggesting that they all have human corporations and that many of those human corporations are not sex-averse so for those of them that are not, they're literally out here touch-starved and/or sex-starved here in different ways. But, you say, maybe Crowley is hungry (goodness knows, Crowley *is hungry* lol) but Aziraphale eats all the time!

Yeah. Aziraphale eats *food*, all the time. But he isn't touched all the time. He doesn't have sex all the time. He isn't kissed all the time. The 2.06 scene shows him *physically* making that metaphor of food and sex real for us-- we watch him *consume* what remains of Crowley's kiss--showing that he's desperate for it and deprived of it. He's starved for it, to a point of trembling hands and rolling every bit of Crowley's lingering taste around his mouth like he's taking on every last bite of the best crepe he could ever imagine in all his days...

...and then being, understandably, full of rage that this is the only time he's going to ever have Crowley-- and all he's ever going to have of him, when Crowley just offered all of himself-- forever.

And then The Metatron comes back and is Aziraphale ready to go to his death now? And, Friends, Aziraphale...

...is absolutely not.

He's turned away from the door, barely containing tears. When the door opened and he turned, he half-hoped it'd be Crowley but it was grr That Bastard instead. He looks out the window and Crowley is still out there...

...he left but he didn't really *leave*... and it somehow then still isn't over and will someone please just take Aziraphale out back and angel-shoot him? He can't take any more of this.

What about the shop? he asks, in a moment of desperation and terror over what's to come and some blind, stupid hope that he can somehow get out of all of this with him and Crowley still alive and The Metatron, who anticipated this, tells him Muriel lives here now. Aziraphale looks around the home he's made for him and Crowley for the last 223 years and his favorite books and possessions. Crowley's hat from 1941 is on the hat stand, the horse statue is where Crowley put his glasses back when he trusted him, back when he let Aziraphale see his pretty yellow eyes whenever Aziraphale wanted in recent years... before he just put his glasses back on now and closed himself off again.

Aziraphale is never going to see those eyes he loves again. He didn't even get to kiss Crowley without the sunglasses on before it was all over.

Even Gabriel had something to take up to Heaven with him to remind him of the demon he loved but Aziraphale goes to Heaven and to his death empty-handed because he pushed Crowley away to save him from all of this and, in the final push, he looks at Crowley standing there by The Bentley, all that secretly optimistic, beautiful, romantic hope about him still in him from the angel Aziraphale first met, all the awareness there of Aziraphale-- the only being who really knows him-- and so he's still waiting, still hoping. It goes back a few hours to the ball.

I'll be back. I won't leave you on your own.

But it's Aziraphale's call now and he gets into the elevator. The Metatron wins because Aziraphale's love for Crowley wins. He'll die before he lets anything happen to him, even if he wants to run to that car and to him but where would they run *to*? There's no place to go. Crowley has always been wrong about that. They can't go off together. There's no place safe from Heaven for them.

So Aziraphale gets into the elevator at The Dirty Donkey, leaving Crowley alone in the street once again, just with less hope this time than in 1967.

So Aziraphale leaves the bookshop this time, instead of going into it like he did in S1, when he left Crowley in the street, standing beside The Bentley, while clutching a different book this time-- Agnes Nutter's prophecies in his hand versus The Book of Life and its threatened erasure hanging over Aziraphale like the specter that it is. What was predicted about the future versus erasure from the past and all time. Nothing to see here, Crowley! Everything is as it's seems.

Everything is tickety-boo!

Tickety-boo?

Yes, which is also what Aziraphale-as-Crowley said... when he was kidnapped by Heaven and Hell in S1, remember? When he was taken from Earth to be sentenced to death... along *with* Crowley.

This time, Aziraphale is shutting Crowley out again. Telling him 'mind how you go' again, this time a bit more, uh, emphatically lol. And on their heels, again, the end of the world. Arma-bloody-geddon 2.0: The Second Coming.

Aziraphale heard The Metatron saying that was the plan-- as, of course, our villain walked away and meant for it not to be totally heard, further implying that they have no plans to really make Aziraphale the Supreme Archangel and that this is all a remix of Fraulein Greta Klauschmidt. That then makes this all somehow *even worse*... because now Aziraphale gets in the elevator to ride up to his death to save Crowley but now he knows that it was all for nothing.

War is coming. The planet they love will be destroyed. Crowley, if he knows him well enough, will likely die trying to save it. When he does, he'll still be damned to Hell for all of eternity while Aziraphale thinks he likely won't exist at all once he makes it upstairs and Michael finally gets to Book of Life him. Let the other angels think he's been played for a sucker. Better they think him a fool than that they come for Crowley.

He doesn't want to Fall and doesn't wish for it. If they take his memories as punishment, and they almost certainly will, he won't remember any of the moments he spent with Crowley and even if they could have eternity together in Hell if the world is destroyed, he wouldn't wish Crowley the pain of being around him when he didn't remember anything.

Aziraphale only finding out about The Second Coming in the moment before he gets on the elevator-- *after* everything happens with Crowley-- is a million times worse because now Aziraphale is riding to his death knowing that everything they've done in six thousand years doesn't matter and that the events of S1 didn't matter because all it did was delay the inevitable end of the world and everything Aziraphale loves is about to be destroyed.

That, apparently, was God's ineffable, Great Plan.

All of that is what is on Aziraphale's face on the ride up to Heaven in the final splitscreen.

In that splitscreen, Crowley, for what it's worth, is visually echoing the driving back from Tadfield bit that leads to the "tickety-boo" moment of Aziraphale lying to him by omission. He looks close to a parallel to the S1 moment where he suddenly yelled:

"DUCKS!"

They're what water slides off of. In this context? They were also the thing itching at the back of Crowley's mind-- the not quite right thing, the puzzle he couldn't quite figure out, the question he coudln't yet quite answer... until he could. That's positive, actually. It means there might be something for him to realize, even if that realization might come too late in the short term. (They will solve everything and be fine, memory-intact, immortal beings in love who go off together by the end of it. This is all just until then.)

Ducks are also, sort of, the be all and end all of Good Omens. Crowley knows how to take care of them, after all, when others do not. You feed them frozen peas-- they are good for them and they love them, too. (Don't feed him coffee, you Metatron idiot! He only ever drank one mug of it in S1 and it led to the *points above* see: tickety-boo Aziraphale lying to Crowley paralleling sequence of scenes.) [The "do you have one, single, better idea?" scene is Aziraphale drinking coffee, for reference.]

So, yeah, by comparison here... Aziraphale, you are a duck lol. You have been fed bread by idiots for far too long when, really, you need to be eating frozen peas. Crowley knows this and he knows how to take care of you. With any luck, he's about to have his duck-moment-paralleling epiphany any moment now, though I fear you're already going to be memory-wiped and fallen to Hell when he does. That's okay, though, because this is the main scene that still needs a go-around in paralleling and we know Crowley knows where the dungeons are down there from unfortunate, personal experience.

Cottage in the south downs, cottage in the south downs, cottage in the south downs, cottage....

Notes: Hi! If you have made it all the way here, thank you for reading. I hope it was worth the read for you. You all write such great stuff that I felt inspired to put my lit and film studies and psych background to use and jump in a bit. Thanks for indulging me. I also wish to note that there is a gif above that is by @fuckyeahgoodomens but for some reason, the credit was not working properly so I just wanted to make sure you knew who was providing us the visual joy.

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝟓

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: You and Soldier Boy want to create a family and move on from everything, even the Vought, but you also know that he has to face Homelander one last time to keep his vow to Butcher. However, nothing turns out as you had hoped.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, memory loss, Soldier Boy gets hurt, reader gets hurt, language

Word Count: 6025

A/N: English is not my first language.

This is inspired by the song 'Remembrance' by Memoria Futuri.༊

Soldier Boy promised to help you remember him, so you and him took your time in the room for some time more, and you thought twice about what to do next. The most powerful Supe would never lie to you about you having a relationship with him in the past; it would be absurd. He had no reason for lying to an ordinary person. Still, you were afraid he might use you to track Butcher and the others. Even so, you had to proceed with caution. 

You politely interrupted him to not ruin the mood by saying, “Don't get mad, but I still need to talk to Butcher first and ask him about... us and learn why he wouldn't tell me about you.”

His hands immediately left your face after you had said Butcher a hundred times, and you carried on speaking until he said something offensive: “I know you hate them, and it's them who betrayed you. At least that's what you're telling me, but I must listen to him as well. You have to realize that I'm confused and frightened, and he's the only person I can remember.”

He looked around the room, irritated that you remembered Butcher but not him, despite the fact that you shared a lot with him. You placed your hands on the hard, cold material on his chest, on the star symbol, to show him that you weren't too distant or that you weren't pushing him away from you straight away. You waited patiently for his response. Without a doubt, Ben was more significant and unique than Butcher and everyone else to him, and he tried not to get angry. 

With a cold voice and an irritated expression on his face, Soldier Boy remarked, “I can't believe you actually remember that pussy, but not me. I don't like how your brain works at that point.”

“I'm trying so hard to remember you, or at least a little something about you, but I'm just not successful. It's not that I forgot everything on purpose,” you whispered, feeling a little guilty about the idea that you might, your old self, actually love him if what he said was true. 

On the other hand, you had no feelings of love or affection for Soldier Boy. In reality, though, you were scared because he appeared to be unpredictable and cruel. Even if you lost all memory of him, wouldn't you still love him? When you were having memory loss, you had no idea how the brain functions, but that's what you felt at the time. 

Rapidly, “I know, I know,” Soldier Boy replied. “I'm not angry with you or putting blame on you. However, that son of a bitch needs to pay for what he did to you, including throwing your body against the table, hitting your head, and not telling you about me. He crossed the line.”

You added, “He must have a reason, and I really need to talk to him. I just need to hear it from him too,” feeling concerned at the way Soldier Boy discussed the past as though Butcher was the evil guy. Still, you didn't find anything you said to be slightly reasonable. Instead of keeping what happened to you a secret from you, he could have told you that both you and Soldier Boy had a past and given you the explanation you deserved. 

“Don't you trust me?” He was annoyed that you would continue to stand up for Butcher in the face of him. 

“To be honest, I don't trust you, but please don't get upset with me.” You whispered, “You know I have no memory about you, and I need you to understand me,” and he gave you a hurt look. You tried to smile at him and said, “But I think you'd already killed me the moment you found me in this room if I was a total stranger to you,” as guilt filled your heart. “That must mean something, right?”

With a surprised low laugh and a nod, Soldier Boy said, “You're a smartass, aren't you?”

Uncontrollably, his smile made you feel a little more at ease, and you exhaled a sigh of relief that he wasn't being aggressive anymore. 

“So, talking about trust issues,” he added, arching an eyebrow. “I guess you don't want to go back to them since there is a high possibility that I would follow you and find your precious pussy friends, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, not wanting to risk the lives of others or anything because Soldier Boy was too determined to kill them. “In this case, I think I better call Butcher and talk to him through the phone.”

He nodded, “Very well,” relieved that you were no longer so keen to return to the traitors. It was certainly because he had threatened to murder them, but which reason wasn't important at the time. When you were so confused and bewildered, he would never allow you to return to them. You were obviously brainwashed by Butcher. 

You looked around and said, “Okay, I'll call him, but you can get me out of here first?”  as he waited patiently for you to call them. “You know, there are other politicians and supes.”

“Yeah, it's better we get the fuck out of here now,” he said with irritation. “I hate discussing politics anyway. Personal matters should come first, right?” Soldier Boy said, giving you a wink and picking up the gun off the table and putting on his suit again.

You nodded to him and adjusted your jeans. You flushed under his focused gaze, remembering how he had torn off your panties simply to spill himself on moments before. It was as though his gaze were stripping you. As he found out about your memory loss and that you didn't require intimacy, you hoped he wouldn't try to touch you again. After all, you had given him what he desired from you—that is, protection from harm. Nothing more. 

As he observed you adjusting your t-shirt and hair while blushing, Soldier Boy added in a hard, serious voice, “By the way, we'll talk about your that hand job later.”

You simply looked at him with a flushed face, not answering him. 

“Let's just leave without paying any attention to this house. Stay cool.” He heard your heart race and raised an eyebrow as if to warn you, saying, “I'll be following you.”

One of the politicians commented, “Ah, he's finally back,” as he sipped his drink and waived his hand to Soldier Boy as you walked by his side during your exit from the room. 

“It's unfortunate that I have to leave now, gentleman. There is so much to do,” said Soldier Boy, putting a slight grin on his face and placing a small hand on your back. “Homelander will be available shortly, and he'll be the one to talk to you about details.”

You exhaled a relieved sigh, and politicians didn't even look at you as if you didn't exist. You would have assumed that they were already enjoying themselves without Soldier Boy because they were eating anything the waiters brought. 

“Homelander just told me that we would be talking to you too,” one of them remarked. “The public is still worried about you returning given what you did in New York. Things are difficult to restore, especially when it comes to trust.”

“Trust is overrated; it's simply built on perfect lies. Also, who the hell cares about the public? I thought you were more experienced and smarter than this. Through the media and a well-written dumb speech, it's simple to dominate their thoughts.” Soldier Boy spoke harshly, “You already know that they are unable to view the bigger picture properly in their own narrow worlds. What's important is to find who's responsible for planning assassination against the vice president, find those terrorists Butcher and his useless team, and prove that the CIA is behind all of the shit.”

“And,” Soldier Boy said in an authoritative tone as one of the politicians opened his mouth to speak. “It will be exposed that the CIA was responsible for my forty years of fucking torture in Russia. The public will discover the truth in this way, and they will once more support their one true supe. That's how we rescue our nation from the trash that's been dumped on it. Are we clear about this?”

After a brief glance around, you noticed that The Deep and Black Noir were eating and conversing as though they were starving. You thought about if it would be simple to shoot Noir without drawing notice, and you still had your gun with you. Well, you have to do this anyhow. It was likely that by keeping Soldier Boy a secret from you, Butcher had actually betrayed you. But it wasn't like you were prepared to abandon them and simply join Homelander and Soldier Boy on their own wicked team. Not fucking way.

You have to use the virus on a strong person quickly enough to start developing it. But first, you had to take care of your own issue. 

One of them said, “But..”

“No buts, no deals, no mercy,” Soldier Boy interrupted him right away. “Homelander will handle the majority of the problem on his own. With the exception of the CIA and their pawns, of course, neither Vought nor I want to see bloodshed, but it's best to bring things under control as soon as possible. Remember that President, Vought, and Homelander are trusted by the public. It's best if you give it your all. Consider this a recommendation or warning—I don't give a damn. However, be aware that the president will always back us. I mean, I'll be giving my best for my beloved nation, isn't that right?” Soldier Boy patted the politician's shoulder as he spoke, who was trying to get free of Soldier Boy's cruel and tight hold on him while clearing his throat nerveously.

“Yes, without a doubt, we are going to help you fix your public image. It is quite unfortunate that you are one of the victims of the CIA. It's simple to mislead the public about your intentions by the media,” remarked the other politician, who was casually sipping his whiskey and acting as though Soldier Boy hadn't just threatened them. “We are all in the same ship.”

Soldier Boy grinned broadly and added, “Vey good,” patting the politician's shoulder once more before he stepped back, clearly indicating he wasn't willing to spend time talking for hours. “I guess we are done here.”

Calling out to Black Noir and The Deep, Soldier Boy surveyed his surroundings. You stepped back and briefly locked eyes with Soldier Boy. When he saw that you were becoming anxious, his gaze softened, but he remained silent and did not move.

Squeezing Black Noir's shoulder firmly, Soldier Boy remarked, “The Deep and Black Noir, my old loyal friend from the Seven, will be discussing details.”

You were startled and alarmed when The Deep briefly locked eyes with you, but you ignored him and walked carefully toward the door, knowing that Soldier Boy was almost done with them. You were relieved that no one paid you any attention or questioned you. All of them showed interest in chatting with Soldier Boy.

“Are you okay?” whispered Soldier Boy as you waited for him outside, and you shivered when you felt his hand on your back.

You lied, “Yeah, sure,” and he instantly withdrew his hands.

It irritated him that you had become such a liar. “You must know that my Supe hearing can detect when you are lying to me,” he stated. You used to be different from this, and you always told him the truth about everything. particularly in regards to your current state of mind.

Even though you were the same person, it was difficult to accept that you had changed somewhat. But something has changed about you, and that's when Ben started to get upset. He had best to do anything needed to make you remember everything.

He shot you a cold look, and you said, “What will you do if I say, 'No, I'm not feeling good'?”

“At least I'd know you are being honest.”

With a quick smile, you said, “Well, remember that I don't even know you,” as if it didn't matter what you might have shared in the past.

Soldier Boy gave you a grumpy and unhappy look before gently pushing you to the car. After you left the supe-filled house, there was silence between you in the car.

Thinking about how he talked to the politicians, you felt uneasy and disturbed. You couldn't stop thinking about what kind of person you were and loved Soldier Boy if he was right about you being something months ago.

“What's happening in your head right now?” Soldier Boy finally asked you after giving you a look while you were driving. as if he were whispering.

This time, you said honestly, saying, “I was thinking about the way you talked to the politicians,” unwilling to ignore it and feeling a little more brave around him because he didn't appear to be a threat to you.

“And?”

You shifted in your seat, and you managed to ask, “Is it true that you are going to really team up with Homelander?” after giving it some thought.

Since he had a personal issue with Butcher and the others and was now filled with a desire for vengeance, you could try to understand him about them. However, it didn't seem proper to team up with the worst Supe alive and carry on doing out vile acts for evil people on behalf of evil people in positions of power. All it was was modern-day slavery.

“Are you having a problem with that?”

You shook in your seat at that moment, unable to speak for a long time due to the extreme coldness of his voice.

“Of course!” you replied, raising your voice slightly as if his question were the most ridiculous thing ever. Your former self could not possibly approve of the way he handled the Vought and Homelander crises. “What makes you even want to work with him? Even though he is biologically your son, he is still cruel and vile, just another Vought toy.”

“What do you expect me to do?” He raised his voice a bit as well, unhappy about how your voice sounded critical and icy toward him.

“Well, you don't have to allow people to take advantage of your strength simply because you hate Butcher and the others. If Butcher truly betrayed you like you told me, anyone could do so at any time; Homelander, politicians, and Vought included especially.”

“Even you?” he asked quietly, seemingly interested in finding out what you thought of him.

You were about to say yes, but you kept your mouth quiet out of fear for his reaction. Ben sighed, disturbed by your overly cautious and controlled acts next to him, as he realized that. It was as though you had truly vanished, as though he was speaking to someone else. He sensed then that even though you were with him at that same moment, by his side, he was still missing you. You were just with him physically. He realized then that he had to find you again and help you remember what you had. It nearly disturbed him to have that cautious, angry woman without memory by his side. He felt guilt filling his heart when he gave you an odd look. He had to be more understanding and soft toward you and not let his hatred for Butcher take over.

Soldier Boy simply said, “Things changed. You must choose a side no matter what time. Despite knowing that Homelander was actually my son, I had Butcher swear to murder Homelander. I was prepared to murder him until Butcher attacked me.”

You firmly stated, “He would never stop anyone from killing Homelander,” knowing full well that Butcher despised Homelander.

“It appears that you either don't recall everything about him or don't know everything about him. Do you even recall that Homelander's wife had a son?”

You exclaimed, “What?” in shock, thinking he was going to lie to you.

“Go ahead, give him a call, and ask about Ryan, his wife's son,” Soldier Boy added, flashing you a cunning smile.

“It seems like he didn't tell you.” Not surprised that Butcher was taking rather too long to tell you the truth about what actually took place, Soldier Boy asked with a slight smile. “And you still trust him, but not me.”

You kept calling Butcher every single time, and you said, “He's not answering my calls,” in a hurt voice. You had the option to call the others as well, but at that moment, all you wanted and needed was to talk to Butcher, and his lack of response was leading you to believe that Soldier Boy had been telling you the whole truth.

With a heavy heart, you placed your phone in your pocket and showed him how weak you were by holding yourself back from crying suddenly with your hands by your sides. When you were with Soldier Boy, you had no idea what kind of person he was, but you didn't want him to see you were that vulnerable, at least.

Butcher's betrayal was not quite as heavy as Kimiko's. When she knew you weren't even a Supe, why would she even leave you with Soldier Boy? If he had believed that you had deceived him as well, he might have hurt you. You believed that you had become friends with her. She must have known you for a very long period as well. The realization that she had been lying to you hit you even harder.

Confidently,  “Of course he won't answer,” remarked Soldier Boy. “He must be planning what to say to you and how to tell fresh lies to deceive you, leaving you even more confused.”

“He doesn't need to take any action in this case.” You said in a sour voice, “I don't think you're a good person at all after hearing you there and listening to the way you talked to those people.” You could not possibly just accept him collaborating with Homelander.

He gave you a tender glance and stated, “You love me,” without even trying to understand what you were trying to convey. “You, Butcher, and everyone else are aware of that. When you remember about us, we can have a proper conversation, alright?”

Ben was just bothered by the weight on his chest, which gave him the impression that you were a shapeshifter even if you weren't. Even though he was in love with you, he couldn't shake the unpleasant feeling that was eating him alive. It felt like he was trying reaching out to the real you that was hidden inside your body when he tried to speak with you. It was hard with your aloof,

nervous, and icy gaze. It was always easy to persuade him because of your understanding and kind tone, even when you two had previously had some disagreements. But now everything was different.

Saying with a sigh, “I don't know what kind of person I was before my memory loss, but I'm positive that I don't, and I can't be with you. I don't know if I'll be able to retrieve my memory, but if not, my feelings for you won't change. You are cruel.”

You were about to add something, but, “That's not what you really think of me,” he cut you off. “Let's simply spend the night somewhere tonight and talk to the greatest doctors who can help you tomorrow in the morning. We both need some rest. We'll get through this,” Soldier Boy assured you, quickly putting your hand in your lap and giving it a gentle squeeze to demonstrate his patience and sympathy.

With a strange expression on your face, you questioned, “What if I don't?” as your thumb lightly brushed across the surface of his hand. “What if I never remember anything about myself, you, or us despite all effort, even if the doctors and I do our best?”

“I gave you my promise,” he murmured, trying to show confidence and self-assurance as if there was no other option. “All you need is the best medical and psychological care possible. I'm everything you need. Not with Butcher's lies, nor any other person's. Me alone.”

You wanted to believe him at that vulnerable time, even though you could never be certain of the kind of person he genuinely was with you in the past. You wanted to think that he loved you more than anyone else. Looking at his powerful hands, which might have killed you in an instant, you held back your smile, seeing those hands were holding yours gently. You couldn't stop thinking about giving it a shot, but you didn't want to be too close or too far away from him. Given how simple it was for him to swap sides, he was obviously a cruel Supe, similar to Homelander, but perhaps you could change things.

“Since you were unfamiliar with me an hour earlier,” he added, changing the topic. “Why were you alone yourself on the third floor? You were there because Butcher assigned you another foolish and risky mission? Sending you there as if you were some prey?”

You lowered your gaze to the point where your hands touched and said, “You already know the answer,” as he looked at you.

“He's too fucking brilliant or too stupid to send you to me. I have to admit you had me distracted. If he had another plan in his stupid head by sending you to distract me, he is most likely successful.”

You said, “Butcher actually had no idea you were going to be there.”

“So you're saying I was lucky to find you, huh?” Soldier Boy winked at you and continued driving, barely checking at the road. You were afraid of him because of how careless he drove. He wouldn't die in a car crash, but you most certainly would. “I must confess that I was able to recognize your voice from the one noise you made up there. I suppose my supersensitive hearing was overly sensitive to you these days.”

He asked again, curious, when you failed to respond, “Why were you there? What would you do with that adorable little gun of yours that's still attached to your adorable pants?”

You instantly replied, straightening your t-shirt and widening your eyes. “Nothing!”

“Don't get excited; you can keep that useless gun with you, baby, if it will make you feel better,” he remarked simply, becoming annoyed when you immediately withdrew your hands from him.

“It's just a gun, nothing more.”

You attempted to sound calm and collected, but you were sweating and your heart was racing, so he could know you were lying to him again. Surprisingly, though, he remained silent and didn't make you tell him the details—for which you were grateful.

“Okay, keep that tiny, adorable toy if it makes you feel more secure. For the record, I can defend you more effectively than anyone, but I must warn you that hiring a Supe to keep you safe from criminals is incredibly pricey.”

This time, when he smirked and spoke to you in a lighthearted way, you couldn't stop giggling.

You laughed in response to his amusement, saying, “I need to think about this.”

“By the way, why in the world did you give me a hand job there while you really didn't even know who I was?”

Attempting to act cool, you crossed your arms over your chest when Soldier Boy brought up the intimate subject between you, drawing your hands to yourself and making a flushed face. This time, his tone was a little more stern and cold instead of playful.

“You made an attempt to take me there. It appeared to be an escape route.” You defended yourself. You were certain that your face blushed crimson.

“Fuck, baby,” he sighed in annoyance. “Of course I wouldn't force myself on you if you simply said 'no' and explained your situation to me.”

“How on earth could I be knowledgeable about that? I was frightened when a supe tried to take me on a table since you seemed so determined to take anything you wanted there.” You raised your voice to try to win him over. You weren't even brave enough to act reasonably there.

“What if someone else was attempting to... and it wasn't me? Fuck. I'd rather not even think about it. Now that you are sitting in your seat without your underwear, look what happened. I must admit, though, that I really enjoyed your little handiwork.”

Soldier Boy must have seen your heart racing uncontrollably again, because he said these things to either make you feel shy or excited.

You asked abruptly, hoping to annoy him with a hint of harshness mixed with curiosity, “And how on earth you couldn't tell I was lying if your supe hearing is too sensitive when I said I missed you too, because I was definitely lying?”

He added in a sour voice, “I was too fucking horny to focus if your heart beat was racing because of excitement or lying, sweetheart,” dismissing the fact that you had lied to him about missing him and ignoring the burise on his pride. “Who knows? Maybe both.”

You felt guilty as you noticed the lighthearted tone in his voice fade into a sort of sorrowful glimpse. He was aware that you were going through memory loss and that you weren't truly missing him or anything. It wasn't your fault, of course, but since he was your former personality's boyfriend and not your own, you wanted to cheer him up right now even if you didn't know how. It was hard to believe that you were the same real person as before, but you had the impression that your memories of him were more important to him than you were.

You whispered to him, observing his expression. “But if I were the same person as I was months before, I'm certain I would miss you. Of course, that is, if we were a real thing.”

When Soldier Boy saw that you were trying your hardest to cheer him up, he lit up with you a tiny smile to let you know he appreciated it. Your genuine behavior, sensitivity, and compassion were still present, at least.

He said, “It's okay,” with such firmness that you remained silent until you got there. “I just want you to be honest with me.”

You were unaware that he had been holding your hand the entire time.

When you realized that they had decided to stay in the house that Butcher had brought you to a few days prior, you asked in a hushed voice, “Why?” in shock. It was the home you most likely spent several months living in.

You knew that Butcher had told you to leave when he found out Soldier Boy was free since Soldier Boy had also must have lived in this house for a while.

“I promised to help you to recover.” He whispered, “We have to start somewhere,” and quietly closed the door while urging you inside. “This seems like a good place to start. It is too full with memories for us.”

You said, “Butcher told us to leave this home as soon as he knew you were free,” obviously not wanting to reveal too much.

“I thought so,” Soldier Boy agreed, unable to stop thinking about Butcher's cunning ways and how he did everything in his power to keep you away from him, and he angrily remarked, “He balls are not big enough to confront me.” You could never be taken from him. No fucking way.

You inquired, “Do we have good memories in here?” not knowing if he would be completely honest with you.

“Both good and bad. It took us a while to really start a relationship,” Ben said, remembering the unpleasant moments when he was being mean to you, and you found it simple to tell him how you felt, but he wasn't as ready as you were to do so. “Good memories were also there, though. In the last three or two months, we managed to work it out. It wasn't like we were toxic or something. Mostly.”

You only mumbled, “Hmm,” as you tried to imagine your relationship in your thoughts.

You followed upstairs without saying anything more, feeling the need to return to the room where you were assured it wasn't important. You wondered if your feelings would change if you spent time with Soldier Boy this time.

With a sigh of relief, Ben followed you there and watched you go to the room where he had spent months. He experienced discomfort and agony at the same time since you could remember the room where he stayed even though you were completely unaware of it.

Even if you forgot about him and everything you had, a piece of your love was still there, clinging to him and refusing to let go. Your body had its own thoughts about him.

“What did you choose this room?” As you closed the door behind you, Soldier Boy asked softly, hoping you would recall one small detail about him.

The emptiness and silence in the room created the same heavy sensation that was tearing at your spirit and couldn't even be named. It was a heavy feeling that filled your heart with aching thoughts. You knew it was important even if you weren't sure if it was the nothingness or the silence that affected you that hard.

“I found myself in this room when Butcher brought me from the hospital to this house.” You mumbled, “I don't even know why,” unable to contain your own sadness.

“And?” Soldier Boy asked, forcing himself to suppress a proud smile at your remarks.

“I'm not sure why, but I had a very depressing, possibly saddened feeling that I can't quite describe. All I can recall is that that evening, I cried all as I fell to sleep.”

Ben kept coming toward you, hugging you tightly from behind and kissing the back of your head firmly, all with a heavy heart. Your hands brushed his rough ones on your lower abdomen, but you avoided pushing him since you believed that being near to him would help your brain function. Nothing compared to how close and intense it was.

Saying in a rough, whispery voice, “This is the room I've been in for months,” he said. “You actually spent a lot of time in this room with me; we had many wonderful moments together. Your body must have a memory of its own.”

“I really tried hard, but...” you began to defend yourself, not sure for what, but he interrupted you right away with understanding.

“I know, I know.”

With a shy glance, you were able to save yourself from Soldier Boy just after you had a moment of silence. You clearly needed rest after such a difficult and stressful day.

You said, hoping to change the conversation and find out what his intentions were about tonight: “Will we stay the night here? I should mention that you have nothing to wear. The entire wardrobe appears to have been emptied. But I'll search Kimiko's room for something for myself.”

“Yes, we definitely will. Also, that's not a big deal,” he muttered as he hurriedly began to remove the cloth covering his chest and place it on the table.

Thoughts raced through your head as you held your breath for a moment. It appeared that a discussion regarding the best course of action was required.

With the knowledge that Soldier Boy was determined about sleeping by your side, you changed your clothes after finding clean underwear in Kimiko's room. God, you thought he might try to fuck you again after you had given him a handjob two hours earlier. This time, you believed that handwork would not be sufficient. You needed to speak with him in a serious tone.

You had no idea how your sex life with him would be, and you didn't think he would force you or anything, but he was still a supe, your so-called ex-lover or whatever. The situation was simply awkward. You had to let him know that you were different now. When you walked into the room, he was examining every inch of you while wearing a sly smirk.

With a trembling voice, you stated, “Well, I guess I need to be clear about something.” You really tried to sound tough and confident. It was becoming difficult to maintain your composure, though, under his playful gaze as he removed his jeans and boots. “I must tell you that I don't want any sexual stuff because, as you know, I can't recall a single thing about us. Until I regain my memories, you are, at the very least, a complete stranger to me.”

Ben grunted in exhaustion as he lay on the bed, rolling his eyes and holding back a smile in response to your explanation. You watched him nervously, waiting for an answer.

“Actually, I had no intention to,” he remarked honestly. “Of course, I still love you and want to give you a good fuck very much, we both need that, but you know, you kind of feel like a different person now. I suppose we need to go through this quickly so you will remember us. When things get back to normal in our relationship, that's when I'll give you a big, deep fuck, so you better heal quickly.”

His lighthearted remarks about how you were like someone else to him didn't make you feel better—in fact, they kind of broke your heart—but at least he was serious about staying away from you, which was good. What you shared in the room hours ago was already too much.

You turned your back on him and felt his naked upper body moving closer to yours instantly, but you remained motionless. You simply awaited his next action.

Once more, the hands of Soldier Boy stroked your lower abdomen, drawing you even closer to him and pressing your back against his bare and warm chest. You felt his power on your back. Uncontrollably, your hand contacted his rough one to see whether he would react to you and to feel something toward him. Although they were warm, rough, and understanding, surprisingly, his hands were not forceful.

He mumbled to your ear, wanting you to make yourself remember what you had. “We used to spend most of our time here, lying like this for months, for many nights,” he said.

Your hands lingered on his hands and said nothing, and he went on, “I miss you so much.” His tone was achingly sharp.

The way he'd said it, with his firm voice as though he was talking to someone else, was supposed to make you feel better, but it didn't. You wondered if he would still love and care for you, even if you felt like a stranger to him and you couldn't remember anything about him. With that kind of personality, wouldn't he love you? He had loved and missed the other side of you that he had been missing.

There was no more space between you two as he held you near to him; your back felt the warmth of his bare, powerful and warm chest, but you were agonizingly too distant to stay close and way too cold.

Next Chapter

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A/N: Comments are very much appreciated. They keep me going. ^.^

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[koolades-world]

Hey there! I'd Like to request something. So like, MC is an Artist (Style doesn't matter they just have to draw humanoid things) and then they draw the brothers+dateables in their style, what would the reaction be?

hello! sure thing :)

I myself am admittedly not a very good artist, which is my my preferred art form is writing. the only time I draw is usually during gartic phone games with friends, and thanks to my franticness under a time limit it's always very chaotic. but at this point I've just embraced it and it's always funny

enjoy!

Artist Mc

Lucifer

you draw him while he's seated at the dinner table on a saturday morning while he's reading the newspaper and enjoying a coffee

not that you didn't intend to show him, but suddenly he was leaning over your shoulder, staring, and it caught you off guard

as you scramble to explain, he just smiles and sits back down in his chair and goes back to what he was doing to keep being you model

once you're done, he asks if he can at least have a copy to keep, which in itself is a huge compliment, but it's so he can think of you every time he looks at it 🥺

Mammon

during class, he happened to look super cute as always while looking wistfully out a nearby window a few rows in front of you and the lesson was getting boring anyways. next to your notes, you begin to doodle him, using highlighters for color

you forget it's there and lend him that very notebook since he had tuned out that same lesson

once he opens it, he seems himself and doesn't know how to react. he's a babbling, red mess

once he regains motor functions, he shakily declares that it's very becoming of the Great Mammon and that you did a great job. success!

Levi

the two of you are hanging out in his room. he's playing a ruri game and you're lounging behind him, sketching on a bean bag

you're not drawing anything in particular and were searching for an idea when suddenly, the idea found you

levi wasn't paying attention to you, so you could easily look at him and ruri, and sketch them side by side in matching outfits

once he stops for a moment to get a snack, you happily show him the drawing and he does the demon equivalent of blue screening. give him a minute to reboot then try again haha

Satan

when you decided to draw him, the two of you were seating together, with you in his lap while he read a book so he saw the drawing from it's first line to it's last

made positive comments about it the entire time, like about how you captured the green of his eyes perfectly, or telling you his hair looked better in the picture than it did in real life

at some point, he stopped pretending to read the book and sat watching you with his chin on your shoulder

he added cute little notes around it once you were done with little hearts around them

Asmo

he's asked you to draw him jokingly a few times, but never expected you to actually do it the next time he asked

when you tell him if he wants, he can pick something else to wear, he almost strips down so you can draw him nude but you stop him as soon as he started to take his shirt off

he scurried away and was back quickly in a new outfit, and posed how he would for a picture

talks to you basically the entire time you draw, and once you're done, he squeezes you into a tight hug and asks if he can post it on his Devilgram

Beel

after joining him enough times for Fangol practice, you knew it well enough to begin making sketches of him as he practiced

drawing him in action was a little challenging since he never held still, but you were determined

you drew a few since his practice went on longer that day, and got to proudly show him the results

he was equally as proud of you since he thought you did a great job. he asks if he can have one, and if you give it to him, you'll find it hanging up next to his bed next to all his Fangol trophies <3

Belphie

he's an easy model to draw thanks to his lethargy, so you often find yourself sketching him

something about his peaceful nature and natural frosted tips was just so drawable, so you had at least a few pages full of him napping in various positions with different blankets

one time, he wakes up while you're next to him drawing, and is a little shocked in a good way. he didn't know you viewed him that highly

he's still half asleep, so he just compliments your artwork and moves to lay his head on your lap, then falls back asleep, ensuring you're the flustered one now

[earth2rin]

LAST RESORT ᡣ𐭩

bakugo x fem!reader college au

2.1k words

warnings: mild cursing, slightly suggestive, alcohol use

friends not answering your calls? ubers not available? guess it’s time for your last resort.

“fuck” you slur as your screen reads that iida had not answered your phone. you called jirou, then momo, then izuku, todoroki, sero and kiri, but no answer.

you were drunk. absolutely hammered and the clock on your phone currently reads 2:37 in the morning. there were no ubers available and you were in desperate need of a ride home back to your apartment from the college frat party you and your friends decided to go to.

you originally had a DD, but ochako ended up leaving early, something about deku getting home earlier than expected from his trip in the states. you told her to go and see her man, and how she better fill you in on all the deets or else you were never going to cover for her whenever she and deku “mysteriously” disappear from functions.

so here you sat on the couch in some random fraternity house, pouting about how you had no idea of how you were gonna get home. the music was loud and your body was buzzing, all the loud conversations going on around you didn’t help brighten your mood. you were tired, and your feet hurt from the heels you were wearing. you wanted to go home. you contemplated just crashing on the couch and waking up super early to leave, but the skirt you were wearing would ride up every 5 minutes and you were sure if you slept on the couch someone would get a show when they would wake up in the morning. you also thought about walking home but for obvious reasons you decided against it, walking 7 miles in the middle of the night in a miniskirt was an absolute no!

then an idea popped into your head. you had absolutely no faith, but it was your last chance to get home before you started walking. you chewed on your lip, anxiety making you ponder if you really should go through with it, it wasn’t like you had any other choice!

biting the inside of your cheek, you wait as you hear the familiar sound of your phone ringing, hoping the call will go through. your nerves grew as the ringing had continued in your ears.

“hello?” a gruff voice answers on the other end of the line.

“bakugo! oh my god i’m surprised you answered!” you say excitedly, smile extending from ear to ear.

“the fuck are you calling me for? it’s 3 in the god damn morning” he mumbles, you bite on your lip from being chewed out at.

“listen, i’m reeeeally sorry, but i’m really drunk and i need a ride home.” you whine and the desperation in your voice makes you cringe but you really meant it.

“so fucking call some one else, don’t bother me!” he sounds angry and your eyes begin to well with tears.

“i did! but no one wants to answer me and i’m really tired and want to go home, but my feet hurt and i can’t walk home and i’m hungry and there’s no food here, and i really want to go home.” you babble as the tears start pouring and the people around you give you stares but you’re too drunk to care right now.

“alright alright i’ll come get you! jus’ quit your crying already” you manage to get out a broken and whiny ‘okay’ before he asks you to send your location hangs up

even though you know you’ll regret it in the morning, you take 3 more shots and wander out into the front yard. the grass is cool, dewy from the 3am air and the leaves in the trees sway from the light breeze. the moon is out, and you can’t help but stare, mesmerized by its beauty. you find yourself lying in the grass, staring at the sky, hoping the nauseous feeling and pounding headache would go away soon.

your eyes begin to flutter shut, but soon you hear a voice speak up.

“what are you doing on the ground?” you flutter your eyes open and there standing at your feet was bakugo katsuki.

“oh heyyy. ‘m jus a little tired” you smile.

he stares at you and sighs

“well c’mon, get your ass up and let’s get you home.” you shake your head and pout.

“don’t wanna. ‘m so comfy. i think i'll throw up if i stand.” your brows furrow as you adjust your head, turning it to your side.

he groans, dragging and his hand down his face.

“alright, c’mon, up and attem” he lifts you up, throwing you over his shoulder (making sure to cover your ass from anyone seeing your baby pink underwear) and you groan.

“oh god, you’re making me nauseous!” your cheeks bubble up, trying to hold back your barf as you see the ground move from underneath you.

rolling his eyes, he replies “oh buck up, we’re almost at my car.”

you stare for a little, speaking up to drunkenly say, “you have a nice ass” and he pinches your arm, making you squeal and giggle.

you feel him stop, and hear the sound of a car door opening. he gently puts you in the seat and squats down.

“what are you doin?” you hum, eyes closed.

“give me your foot” he mumbles.

you make a confused face to which he replies, “just give me your damn foot!” you comply, sticking out your foot and frowning for being scolded.

he gently unclasps your heels and sets them underneath your seat, repeating the motions for your other foot. he then sets your feet in the car and leans over you, buckling your seatbelt for you.

you catch a whiff of his cologne and you internally sigh, he smelt absolutely heavenly. it didn’t help that he was wearing a wifebeater and his biceps were bulging right in front of your eyes. you wanted to bite him. he was ethereal, a sight to behold, an angel in front of you. why couldn’t he like you?

closing the door, he makes his way to the driver seat and hops in, tying himself in.

“ ‘m cold” you whine, and he turns around to his backseat and grabs a blanket, placing it in your lap.

you unfold it and wrap yourself in it, secretly taking a whiff and hiding your smile in the blanket.

“thanks” you quietly say, he nods in acknowledgment.

the ride to your apartment is comfortable. the radio playing music quietly, leaving you both to your thoughts. you had known bakugo since high school. you had been close friends with deku, and you knew his infamous bully. you tried to help deku and even defended him, but all izuku would say was that it was okay and that you didn’t need to fight for him. so you let izuku handle it, next thing you know you’re all at the same college. your class had all been relatively close, almost everyone was friends. but for some reason bakugo could just not stand you. you tried to figure out why, but you never really had interactions with him so there was nothing that tipped the scale.

you decided to not let it bother you, which was hard because you unfortunately found him ridiculously attractive. you couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to be friends, but you never acted upon your thoughts, settling in the belief that ignorance is bliss.

“you hungry?” you turn your head and blink.

“no ‘m okay, thanks.” you turn your head back to the window and he chuckles.

“alright but you’ll regret it in the morning.”

your eyes widen and you snap your head back to him.

“wait! i am hungry!” he rolls his eyes and says ‘okay’, pulling into a taco bell.

you feel giddy as he hands you your burrito, immediately unwrapping and chowing down on the warm heaven sent food.

“thanks!” you say with a smile and a full mouth, to which he slightly grimaces and says that you owe him one, which you decide to ignore.

shortly after, you arrive at your apartment and he parks, getting out to open your door.

“i don’t wanna go im barefoot! that means i’ll have to walk across the dirty concrete!” you whine and he tries his best not to show his frustration, but the vein popping out on his forehead says otherwise.

“c’mon, i came all this way AND bought you taco bell and you can’t even walk to the door?” you pout and he groans, tossing you over his shoulder again.

he grabs your heels and your purse, beginning his tread up the stairs.

“wait a minute, how do ya know where i live, hmm?”

he rolls his eyes, which he knows you can’t see and responds, “you had a party for ochako remember?”

you gasp and giggle, “oh yeah! and then they left early so they could fu-“

“and we’re here!” he cuts you off, digging through your purse for your keys.

once in your apartment, he asks where your bedroom is, finding the room he sets you down on your bed and puts your heels by your closet. he leaves the room, heading to your kitchen. you frown due to the lack of his company, but he returns with a glass of water and a bottle of tylenol.

“here, take this for your feet and headache.” you grab the two pills he’d taken out the bottle and swallow them, chugging the water shortly after. the tension is thick as you both stare at each other.

you get up, walk to your dresser and look through your drawers, he stands awkwardly behind you trying hard not to stare at your ass as you bend over to look for pajamas. you began stripping and before you can get your tube top over your head he blurts out.

“where’s your bathroom?” you turn your head and blink at him.

“i have an en suite, it’s the door to your left,” he nods and quickly rushes inside the room.

after changing into your pajamas you make yourself comfortable in your sheets, waiting for bakugo to exit your bathroom. your eyes begin to shut until you hear the click of the door opening.

he had assumed you’d fallen asleep and began to exit your room.

“why don’t you like me?” you mutter. he freezes, he feels like a deer caught in headlights.

“what are you talking about?” he plays dumb but you don’t falter.

“why don’t you like me?” you repeat, this time more confidently.

he swallows thickly and turns to look at you, you sit up and look at him.

“i never said i didn’t like you.” he says as if it’s a matter of fact.

“well you sure as hell make it seem like i’m the last person on earth you’d rather be with.” you chuckle bitterly, the alcohol coursing through your veins giving you the courage to say what you’ve always wondered.

“it’s a shame really, i thought we could be good friends, i find you quite charming, dashing even. i wouldn’t have minded if things went further then just being friends as well.” you sigh falling back into your sheets, snuggling into your comforter.

“that makes two of us.” he mumbles and he thinks you didn’t hear it, but you remove your blankets and make your way towards him.

“well maybe when you give up the act of thinking i’m insufferable you could give me a call, yeah?”

he’s at a loss for words, you’re standing awfully too close to him, he can feel the heat radiating off of your body and it sends shivers down his spine. he swallows, examining your face and he licks his lips.

“you're drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying” he tries to rationalize, more to himself than you.

“oh i’m perfectly aware of what i’m saying” you send him a small coy smile and he feels butterflies as you stare into his eyes.

“if i call you sometime will you go to bed already?” he takes a small step closer and you smile at him.

“anything you’d like.”

“i’ll call you then.”

you nod like a school girl, and head back to your bed.

“night.” you say as he slips through your door.

“night.”

the next morning you woke up with a horrendous headache, making your way to the kitchen for some water. a bottle of vitamin c gummies, a free pizza coupon and the blanket you had last night folded up were sitting on your counter top. on the bottle of vitamin c there was a sticky note attached.

for the hangover. call you tonight?

-k.b.

[callooopie]

Modern!Jacaerys Velaryon headcannons (pt. 1)

Yeah my boyfriend’s pretty cool, but he’s not as cool as me — Brooklyn Baby // Lana Del Rey

I look away from my TV for one second only to look back and see Jacaerys mewing at me while a deadly and violent war is being discussed

You meet at a college party. Definitely. He looks like a party girl. Jace Targaryen(?) (Targaryen? or perhaps Strong in this modern world? Certainly not Velaryon, as I would assume Rhaenyra would have a choice of who she married in this world) gives off either reliable fratboy energy, or kind and quiet student you sit by in your class (He shows you his notes if you missed something. He gives you his number too—just in case you had questions!) Is the type to silently sneak glances at you during lectures. Maybe you even catch him staring once?

Meeting his family is.. overwhelming. On one hand it’s big. Like really big, a little confusing sometimes. On the other hand? Why’s everyone so hot? What are these genes?! His mom, his dad, his half-family members, his friends?!?! You’re sitting there at the family function like ?!?!

Speaking of family—he’s a big family guy. He loves his mom and his dad, he adores his brothers, he tolerates his half-uncles and whatnot. Jacaerys shows you to his mother in her office, and to his father doing work around the house. I believe he would be the type to wrangle and line up his brothers for you and go down the line introducing them. “This here’s Luke, aaand little Joffrey. They shouldn’t give you any trouble—Joffrey’s a little brat though..”

(Joffrey runs up to you and tells you to say skibidi gyat rizz before running off in a fit of giggles—) “…yeah—sorry ‘bout that. He’s in a phase right now..”

When you first meet his mom and dad as only “Jace’s friend” (Rhaenyra and Harwin.. </3) they are ecstatic to meet you. They think you’re lovely! Hip!—is that what the kids are saying these days? Rhaenyra has a knowing look on her face as Jacaerys reminds her that you’re only a “friend” and Harwin goes along like “Oh yeahhh… Jace’s friend.. riiiight” (the label of friend was gone in a week at most. Instead of “Jace’s friend” you were now “Jace’s girlfriend/boyfriend”) his parents saw it coming a mile or two away they weren’t surprised. And they hope you come around more often for dinners and things.

Jace is in a band (with Davos OOP) and Cregan (this dude.. graduated like a year or two before them and they all still hang out?), along with a few others. What? Oh yeah—they do little gigs and stuff. He plays bass, kinda the glue of the team if you catch his drift.. it’s tough work but anything to pursue musical passion right? (“Band practice” consists of smoking weed and watching shitty YouTube videos in a garage. They can and do play though so.. you guess it works?)

If you tag along with that merry bunch.. please know you’re babysitting now (mainly Jace and Davos. Cregan disappears but reappears when needed most—“kinda his thing”) think of the most stupidest thing two college-age guys could do… and go stupider. Breaking into abandoned buildings, arson, meeting the most suspicious plugs in the pitch black woods or sewers. Not how you’d imagine your Friday night to be spent but here you are. “This guy said he had something CRAZY.. and only for $20–that’s a deal in today’s economy.”

That’s his silly side. Normal every Jacaerys is serious. It’s almost a little off-putting. He’s very reserved as well, although with you there’s some cracks in that stoic facade. He’s the type to have a smile tug on his lips if you take a “sneaky” video or photo of him. Maybe while you both are in a study room and you just need something for a Snapstreak or insta story. Who else should be caught on camera than Jace as he’s deep into a textbook, twirling a pen between his fingers while swiveling side to side in a chair. “Hm? ..what’re you looking at girly? ..me? Pfft—shut up..”

I believe Jace would be the type to have a wide range of music he listens to. Only him. From alternative indie to folk to heavy metal to edm. He’s got range, he’s got tastes. He totally has a vinyl collection (yes it’s by a window and yes there’s plants near it)

Outrageous closet. Not in a bad way, in a really really good way. Probably the best dressed man you’ve ever seen. Things that shouldn’t work together for an outfit, work on him and only him (It’s like the Rhianna effect—an outfit looks ugly on someone else, but on Rhianna? It looks amazing. Iconic) the other way to describe his fashion sense is he dresses like a character from JoJo’s bizarre adventure. If there was an enemy stand user—it’d be Jacaerys.

His bedroom makes you believe in men again. It’s so nice, so cozy and smells so good. Blankets are always cooled, there’s just a sense of security around. HOWEVER. His pillows fucking suck. He’s the type to not replace anything like that unless absolutely necessary. They’re flat, dead, and make your hair slightly oily. He has a mountain of pillows but what good is that if they’re all lacking in support?! “I can open a window if y’want—it gets pretty hot in here sometimes. Hm? What’s up? My pillows? …it’s fine- they’re fine, look at them. You know how expensive-“

Everything bad about Davos’s car? Forget about it! Jace puts pride into his car. He cleans it regularly (Saturdays are for car deep cleaning, no exceptions) His parents did buy it for him for his 16th birthday. However he’s kept it in a very good condition so. Some stickers will be on the back, but it’s usually like “her body her choice” or “go for green energy” ..based Jace. (If perhaps Rhaenyra is a political figure in this modern world.. you bet your ass Jace is gonna have a campaign sticker for his mom on his car) “Just right over here is my car—lemme get your door. It’s okay if you get it dirty, I’ll just clean it… —although be careful—“

Speaking of cleaning his car—he will ask you to help him sometimes. Mainly in the summer, when you’re more likely to be wearing an outfit consisting of the smallest and tightest jean shorts and either a tank top or a bikini top. It’s a little hard to wash a car when he’s gripping the sponge tightly and letting his eyes rake down your body—what? No he wasn’t staring. He was looking at something past you. What’s that in his pants? See now you’re just being mean about it—

While Jacaerys partakes in a cigarette now and then, he’s more partial to alcohol. I feel he wouldn’t like the idea of smoking (It’s just things with lungs y’know? ..plus I don’t wanna die before that fucker Davos—“). Jace is a fiend with how he hoards bottles or drinks. Beers, hard alcohols, etc. Dude knows how to throw a whole bottle back like it’s nothing. He keeps a collection of empty bottles for fun (in his closet so his parents don’t find it) or if he lives alone they’re just freely out and around (or maybe still in the closet). “Whaaat? Slow down? Pfft—please, I’m good. Nah this is like water to me now. Have you ever had this?”

[iid-smile]

difficult things

sakura, nirei, suo, sugishita, kaji

if you were dating them series

sakura hakura | feeling comfortable around you

it's extremely frustrating trying to get him to open up to you more. he feels the need to look tougher, to protect you more while telling others to back off, but he misses the sole purpose of the relationship; love. sakura avoids you more when you're dating, more than when the two of you were in the talking phase. might be from embarrassment, might be from hesitance. he doesn't say that you're his partner, but something along the lines of "i find them nice...", which makes no sense at all. everyone that sakura knows is nice to him (a few exceptions here and there), so does he really bunch you up with the rest of them?

nirei akihiko | getting over his insecurities

whenever he talks about himself, most times out of ten it's something negative. it doesn't matter how many times you reassure, comfort or encourage him, because nirei doesn't feel like he's good enough for you. it's not that he avoids you per se, but he hides, he puts you in the spotlight, but doesn't join alongside you, so you feel more lonely than anything. he can be early to dates, but he also skips them without telling you or with a poor excuse. it's genuinely off-putting how much he degrades and insults himself, to the point where you don't even know what to say to make him feel better.

suo hayato | saying the truth

suo is a natural pathological liar, as well as lying just to save face. you would never genuinely know if he's covering something behind his eyepatch or not, because he just doesn't want to tell you, injury or not. he'll joke, tease, do everything but tell you that perhaps he's just not comfortable with showing you. and if he did, you'd be totally okay with that. the way he thinks contradicts how he acts, and he picks out all of the things he doesn't like about you and can be so judgmental about it. if you ask, he won't say. one of his values is to keep up his facade, no matter how free or secure he feels around you. nobody knows the real him, except himself. he's loyal, but not honest.

sugishita kyotaro | admitting his mistakes

he loves and admires you to bits, but to be 'sorry' is a way of saying that he has done wrong to you, and he doesn't like that. not because he's narcissistic and petty, but because he doesn't want to believe that he's hurt you in some way. his way of an apology is silently lingering around you or staring at you until you eventually forgive him. at first, it's cute, but when this happens every time, even when it's a major issue, it makes you frustrated. sugishita finds it hard to talk, and communication isn't his strong point. the two of you could go for months in radio silence, and he won't explain anything to you soley because he doesn't know what to say. he doesn't like to be guilty around those he thinks highly of.

kaji ren | ignorance and bluntness

kaji hasn't yet realised that you think and function completely in a different way to him. he's not used to having to soften up, lighten up his tone and be more gentle. in fact, he doesn't realise that somebody loves should be somebody he treats in a special way and not like the rest. kaji should be adjusting to you, just how you adjusted for him. he talks to you as if you're stupid or as if you lack common sense, and he unknowingly belittles you for every mistake you make, more when you hurt or injure yourself in some way. his affection shows through actions, but still it's not anything sweet, not anything you'd expect from a boyfriend. a lot of the time, he manages to look over you and your needs, and needs a reminder from someone else to check up on you.

[alexanderwales]

I finished rewatching Death Note. I always forget how short anime is, with episodes that aren't much more than 20 minutes when you skip the intro/outro.

I hadn't remembered how much of a sniveling wreck LIght was at the end of the show. There's something about the ending that makes it feel like it was written and directed by a different person, not that Light wasn't always a little weird and pathetic, and not that the show didn't consistently go out of its way to let us know what a piece of shit he was (particularly his absolute lack of loyalty or empathy to anyone, even aside from the megalomania). But he takes the loss like a loser, snot dripping from his nose, voice cracking, begging, and it's so pathetic that I almost felt a little sorry for him.

I've always found the Death Note to be a very interesting prompt, one of those hooks that's so good I'd want to watch it even if it was bad. But in writing something like Death Note, the author has to make decisions about what to show and what not to show, and also make decisions about how they're going to portray the public at large.

There are two big things that stand out for me.

One is that we never get someone arguing against Kira. We get people who are actively trying to hunt him down, but they're mostly not stopping to say "this is why what he's doing is wrong" except a few lines about how he has a childish sense of justice, which is never expounded upon. Kira, on the other hand, we hear a lot from, not just the megalomaniac stuff, but the notion that criminals must be punished, that this is what people desire in their hearts. I get the strong sense that L does not actually care and just views this as an interesting puzzle for him to solve, but for everyone else it's largely left as an exercise to the viewer, and even then, there are moments when some of our task force members come dangerously close to endorsement.

To the extent the show has an answer, it's that (to quote Kanye West) no one man should have all that power, or that Kira has crossed a lot of lines, but no one argues in favor of rehabilitation or clemency or just fundamental humanity. Kira seems to largely be killing prisoners, who have already been sentenced, and are wards of the state, and he says "this is what people want deep down, they will give you the politically correct answer but they actually want the criminal class to be obliterate", which ... there's no character who actually voices any opposition to through the whole series. And I find that weird, because yes, the show has its own answers in terms of how it plays out, but in a show filled with people possessed of immense conviction, most of the people in opposition to Kira are just intellectuals who don't actually give a shit about the ideological question.

(The one big moment when it comes to a head, IMO, is when Soichiro Yagami refuses to write Mello's name entirely because of his principled objection to killing someone. I thought this was great, and I wish the show had more of it.)

The other big thing is that we don't really get a viewpoint of the criminals, with a few exceptions. One is the is Yotsuba group, who are killing people with the Death Note, and the second is the (somehow still functional) mafia that Mello hangs out with. There's also one other scene somewhere after L's death where we see a criminal begging with the police not to have his name written down, and that's about it.

The naive view here is that the show really does believe in Criminals as being a part The Other, a different sort of human being who walk among us. The criminal class are described as rotten and evil, they're shown as grotesque and with exaggerated features or bestial characteristics, and they're generally leering and impulsive. There is no consideration of their humanity.

There's a more nuanced take here, which is that we have a criminal as one of our main cast, Light Yagami, along with everyone else who takes on the Kira mantle. So what is the show saying about criminality through how it portrays them? And here ... I don't know. I kind of don't think that it views them as criminals in the same way? When we look at the ways that Light kills, I genuinely do think that the show thinks that this is different from the way that a capital-C Criminals kill. It's reactionary rather than criminal in and of itself, a response to the injustices of the world rather than being in the same class as those injustices. Light is narratively exempted, and Misa is to. Which isn't to say that I think the show thinks highly of Light, it clearly doesn't, especially in its ending, but I almost think that in the end it Others him too (and also has Teru Mikami drawn in particularly 'evil' style, like a creepy deviant gremlin).

So I enjoyed the rewatch, but there are things that sit a little oddly with me as far as the central themes go. There's probably some discourse I should read that's come out since I first watched it in ... 2010 or whenever, but I think I'll give that a skip.

[bitethedevil]

Am i delulu or does raphael admire tav/durge? I know its him performing, but as gale says "inviting to dine with devil is devils equivilant of serenade and roses" and first scene where we meet him he does eye tav/durge througly from bottom to top. Also he says "im fan of your work" to durge. So idk?? It lowey feels like raphael is fond of us in game but i need proof/ professional analysis. [Ahem you are the professional mouse afterall heehee~]

He Loves Us, He Loves Us Not: What is Raphael’s Relationship with Tav/Durge?

*Puts on my little mouse glasses* I’m glad you asked. I’m summing up a few points that I have also written about in another analysis called ‘Raphael and weaponized mortality’, so if that sounds interesting, you can find it in my reading list.

Everything about Raphael screams wolf in sheep’s clothing (or a cambion in man’s clothing if you will). Here are a few points illustrating this:

Cambions naturally have a really predatory kind of stench to them because they are entirely carnivorous. Yet, he is described as a perfumed trickster who smells of cherries and sulphur, most likely because he is trying to cover up that smell.

Poetry, an art that is very dependent on nasty mortal concepts such as ‘feelings’, is something we know he uses a lot. He’s not really good at it and he even says it’s not his ‘main interest’ to Karlach in the second act. His theatrical nature and use of poetry humanizes him, and I think he is well-aware of this.

When you call him out as a devil in front of Mol, he says something about how she wouldn’t believe them anyway, ‘not with his angelic complexion’. We also know that Gortash’s parents sold him to a ‘warlock’ and that’s how he ended up with Raphael. I’ve seen multiple places that that warlock is supposed to be Raphael himself.

Now this all makes me believe that he usually does not reveal his true nature to his clients unless: 1) they’ve already signed, or 2) they are so utterly fucked that they have already reached the point of no return with him and are forced to take his deal no matter what.

Yet, he reveals his true nature to us from the get-go. Yes, one could argue that the tadpole-gang does fulfill option 2) according to him and that’s why he does it, but I think it could also be something else. I think he knows from early on that we are his best bet, so he chooses to lay out all his cards on the table and tries to build as much trust as he can from the beginning.

This is also the function of helping us with Astarion’s scars. Dealing with a devil when you’ve never dealt with one before? Scary. Dealing with a devil when he has proven once before to keep his word? Much less scary. He’s ‘grooming’ us for trusting him to keep his word with THE deal (and he gets to fuck over Daddy Meph by potentially robbing him of a lot of souls. Win-win.)

I think Gale is right on the money when he says that it’s ‘a devil’s equivalent to serenades and roses’. Raphael is like a bird or something. He’s showing off, charming us, but also reminding us that he is big and scary. Although despite the fact that he is big and scary ‘he simply wants to help us’.

He’s done his research and already knows everything about us, so he knows exactly how to play us. This is demonstrated in the comment to Durge in the beginning and the thing he says in Last Light if you tell him he knows nothing about you: “Don’t I indeed?.

I really think that we turn into an obsession for him at some point and that the lines between the obsession about the Crown and his obsession about us blurs. This seems definitely to be the case in his journals. I mean the poor guy has nightmares about us…

I also am so sure that he is not even trying to trick us into anything with the Orphic Hammer. He truly does believe that the Emperor is a threat to us. See this:

I DO think he admires us or at the very least is heavily rooting for us. I don’t remember the exact quotes, but Korrilla tells us in Sharess’s that her and Raphael made a bet about if we would make it to the Gate, and Raphael won that bet because we had. He really believes in our merry little band of idiots.

His reaction if we betray him is also very telling I feel like. Notice how his eyes widen for a moment before they narrow and say the ‘You’ line. He seems surprised. In that whole sequence he is obviously pissed, but most of all I also just get the feeling of a man that has been humiliated and who is angry that he had put so much time, work, and trust into us.

He says that ‘he is fond of us, in his way’ and that I completely believe. It might not be out of love or affection or anything like that, but he is as fond of us as a cambion can be of someone. We’ve grown on him, and he sees potential and use in us. We fascinate him and I’d even go as far to say that he respects us. I feel like even if you give him the Crown of Karsus and he gets to rule the Hells, he will not forget the people who brought him there. He would not flaunt the fact that he had mortals help him get the Crown, but I think that when he goes on his spree to fuck up the realms outside the Hells, Tav and gang would at the very least be spared or even given privileges in that new world order. Is that a bit fucked up? Yeah…But we have to remember what he is: a devil.

(Thank you so much for the ask <3 That became a long answer. I love to yap lol)