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fictionstudent · 6 months ago

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How to pull off descriptions

New authors always describe the scene and place every object on the stage before they press the play button of their novels. And I feel that it happens because we live in a world filled with visual media like comics and films, which heavily influence our prose.

In visual media, it’s really easy to set the scene—you just show where every object is, doesn’t matter if they’re a part of the action about to come or not. But prose is quite different from comics and films. You can’t just set the scene and expect the reader to wait for you to start action of the novel. You just begin the scene with action, making sure your reader is glued to the page.

And now that begs the question—if not at the beginning, where do you describe the scene? Am I saying you should not use descriptions and details at all? Hell naw! I’m just saying the way you’re doing it is wrong—there’s a smarter way to pull off descriptions. And I’m here to teach that to you.

***

#01 - What are descriptions?

Let’s start with the basics—what are descriptions? How do you define descriptions? Or details, for that matter? And what do the words include?

Descriptions refer to… descriptions. It’s that part of your prose where you’re not describing something—the appearance of an object, perhaps. Mostly, we mean scene-descriptions when we use the term, but descriptions are more than just scene-descriptions.

Descriptions include appearances of characters too. Let’s call that character-descriptions.

Both scene-descriptions and character-descriptions are forms of descriptions that we regularly use in our prose. We mostly use them at the beginning of the scene—just out of habit.

Authors, especially the newer ones, feel that they need to describe each and every nook and cranny of the place or character so they can be visualized clearly by their readers, right as the authors themselves visualized them. And they do that at the start of the scene because how can you visualize a scene when you don’t know how the scene looks first.

And that’s why your prose is filled with how the clouds look or what lights are on the room before you even start with the dialogues and action. But the first paragraph doesn’t need to be a simple scene-description—it makes your prose formulaic and predictable. And boring. Let me help you with this.

***

#02 - Get in your narrator’s head

The prose may have many MCs, but a piece of prose only has a single narrator. And these days, that’s mostly one of the characters of your story. Who uses third-person omniscient narrator these days anyway? If that’s you, change your habits.

Anyway, know your narrator. Flesh out their character. And then internalize them—their speech and stuff like that. Internalize your narrator to such an extent that you can write prose from their point-of-view.

Now, I don’t mean to say that only your narrator should be at the center of the scene—far from it. What I mean is you should get into your narrator’s head.

You do not describe a scene from the eyes of the author—you—but from the eyes of the narrator. You see from their eyes, and understand what they’re noticing. And then you write that.

Start your scene with what the narrator is looking at.

For example,

The dark clouds had covered the sky that day. The whole classroom was in shades of gray—quite unusual for someone like Sara who was used to the sun. She felt the gloom the day had brought with it—the gloom that no one else in her class knew of.

She never had happy times under the clouds like that. Rain made her sad. Rain made her yearn for something she couldn’t put into words. What was it that she was living for? Money? Happiness?

As she stared at the sky through the window, she was lost in her own quiet little corner. Both money and happiness—and even everything else—were temporary. All of it would leave her one day, then come back, then leave, then come back, like the waves of an ocean far away from any human civilization in sight.

All of it would come and go—like rain, it’d fall on her, like rain, it’d evaporate without proof.

And suddenly, drops of water began hitting the window.

You know it was a cloudy day, where it could rain anytime soon. You know that for other students, it didn’t really matter, but Sara felt really depressed because of the weather that day. You know Sara was at the corner, dealing with her emotions alone.

It’s far better than this,

The dark clouds covered the sky that day. It could rain anytime soon.

From her seat at the corner of the room, Sara stared at the sky that made everything gray that day. She…

The main reason it doesn’t work is that you describe the scene in the first paragraph, but it’s devoid of any emotions. Of any flavor. It’s like a factual weather report of the day. That’s what you don’t want to do—write descriptions in a factual tone.

If you want to pull off the prior one, get to your narrator’s head. See from their eyes, think from their brain. Understand what they’re experiencing, and then write that experience from their POV.

Sara didn’t care what everyone was wearing—they were all probably in their school uniforms, obviously, so I didn’t describe that. Sara didn’t focus on how big the classroom was, or how filled, or what everybody was doing. Sara was just looking at the clouds and the clouds alone, hearing everybody just living their normal days, so I mentioned just those things.

As the author, you need to understand that only you, the author are the know-it-all about the scene, not your narrator. And that you’re different from your narrator.

Write as a narrator, not as an author.

***

#03 - Filler Words

This brings me to filler words. Now, hearing my advice, you might start writing something like this,

Sarah noticed the dark clouds through the window. She saw that they’d saturated the place gray.

Fillers words like “see”, “notice”, “stare”, “hear” should be ignored. But many authors who begin writing from the POV of the characters start using these verbs to describe what the character is experiencing.

But remember, the character is not cognizant of the fact that they’re seeing a dark cloud, just that it’s a dark cloud. You don’t need these filler words—straight up describe what the character is seeing, instead of describing that the character is seeing.

Just write,

There were dark clouds on the other end of the window, which saturated the place gray.

Sarah is still seeing the clouds, yeah. But we’re looking from her eyes, and her eyes ain’t noticing that she’s noticing the clouds.

It’s kinda confusing, but it’s an important mistake to avoid. Filler words can really make your writing sound more amateurish than before and take away the experience of the reader, because the reader wants to see through the narrator’s eyes, not that the narrator is seeing.

***

#04 - Characters

Character-descriptions are a lot harder to pull off than scene-descriptions. Because it’s really confusing to know when to describe them, their clothing, their appearances, and what to tell and what not to.

For characters, you can give a full description of their looks. Keep it concise and clear, so that your readers can get a pretty good idea of the character with so few words that they don’t notice you’ve stopped action for a while.

Or can show your narrator scanning the character, and what they noticed about them.

Both these two tricks only work when a character is shown first time to the readers. After that, you don’t really talk about their clothing or face anymore.

Until there’s something out of the ordinary about your character.

What do I mean by that? See, you’ve described the face and clothes of the character, and the next time they appear, the reader is gonna imagine the character in a similar set of clothes, with the same face and appearance that they had the first time. Therefore, any time other than the first, you don’t go into detail about the character again. But, if something about your character is out of ordinary—there are bruises on their face, scars, or a change in the way they dress—describe it to the reader. That’s because your narrator may notice these little changes.

***

#05 - Clothing

Clothing is a special case. Some new authors describe the clothes of the characters when they’re describing the character every time the reader sees them. So, I wanna help you with this.

Clothing can be a way to show something about your character—a character with a well-ironed business suit is gonna be different from a character with tight jeans and baggy t-shirt. Therefore, only use clothing to tell something unique about the character.

Refrain from describing the clothing of characters that dress like most others. Like, in a school, it’s obvious that all characters are wearing school uniforms. Also, a normal teenage boy may wear t-shirts and denim jeans. If your character is this, no need to describe their clothing—anything the reader would be imagining is fine.

Refrain from describing the clothing of one-dimensional side-characters—there’s a high chance you’ve not really created them well enough that they have clothing that differs from the expectations of the readers. We all know what waiters wear, or what a college guy who was just passing by in the scene would be wearing.

You may describe the clothing of the important character in the story, but only in the first appearance. After that, describe their clothes only if the clothes seem really, really different from the first time. And stop describing their clothes if you’ve set your character well enough in the story that your readers know what to expect from them in normal circumstances—then, describe clothes only when they’re really, really different from their usual forms of clothing.

***

#06 - Conclusion

I think there was so much I had to say in this article, but I didn’t do a good job. However, I said all that I wanted to say. I hope you guys liked the article and it helps you in one way or the other.

And please subscribe if you want more articles like this straight in your inbox!

#writers and poets #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writeblr #writing #creative writing #writing resources #writing advice #writing tips #writing descriptions #character descriptions

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keferon · 2 months ago

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So the Mech AU is something and it's captured me too.

Set sometime after Prowl discovers Jazz is a pilot but before they go to Earth

———————————————————————

"Do they all look the same?"

Sat in a makeshift chair made from a tarp thrown over a spare tire, Jazz was in the middle of refueling from a small plastic baggie when Prowl broadly gestured to the inanimate body of his mech.

"The mechs? Naw, at least not the ones that last. I've had mine long enough that it's gotten all sorts of unique design changes and upgrades. There's no other mech that looks or moves just like mine."

The reassurance that Jazz's mech form was an individual creation was pleasing for some reason. Perhaps Prowl didn't like the idea of a dozen identical blank visors, the body of his friend replicated and filled with someone else.

"There's like. three or four classes of mech I think?" Jazz continued unaware of Prowl's secret anxiety.

"There's Rescue Class, those are the smallest, and they actually aren't built for fighting but for digging through rubble and cleaning up chunks of alien. Plus, sometimes those tentacle freaks have parasites that drop off when they die so the R-class kill 'em before they can become an invasive species."

"I thought you said they weren't designed for combat?"

Jazz finishes their fuel and shrugs.

"Its a war. Nobody gets out of fighting completely. Before I left I heard they were sticking a medic into- into fuckin' Vortex."

There were, many questions Prowl had concerning that last sentence. How desperate were the humans to be making their caregivers into soldiers? Why was this Vortex so infamous?

Why did Jazz sound angry at first, but by the time he got to saying "Vortex" the name came out as a rush of breath rather than a proper word?

What stopped him from pressing further on the topic was how Jazz seemed to shrink. And sink.

And stare at nothing at all.

It was so nauseatingly not Jazz that Prowl nudged the tire a bit and guided the conversation back to familiar territory.

"So what class are you?" Prowl said, while crossing his arms on the table and resting his chin on them. It was, very off model posture for the Praxian, but without the ability to pick up EM fields, exaggerated body language seemed to be the best way to get through to his human.

On a hunch, Prowl lightly waved his door-wings as well. Jazz smiled at them, and at him and Prowl preened with a modest smile back.

"I happen, to-just-so-be-the-Top-of-my-class-a-thank-you-veeery-much!" Jazz said popping each syllable like a song, resting his chin on his knuckles to match Prowls gaze.

"In terms of mech?" He nodded in its direction.

"I'm Striker Class baby, we're the fastest, the most agile and in my personal opinion the the most effective fighters in the whole program."

"And you do not personally feel as though you are an outlier bringing up the average?"

Mouth agape in mock shock, Jazz placed a hand over his spark- Flesh? Flesh-spark? Prowl deleted the line of thought and focused on the performance.

“I assure you Prowler, there are plenty of other Striker class pilots out there that do good for our name. I mean, there’s Blur for one thing. The guys basically the poster child of the whole program. Ridiculously fast mech. There’s also Hot Rod. His mech had the funny little quirk of CONSTANTLY CATCHING ON FIRE, buuut he turned it from a bug into a feature and now that’s just his thing.”

“Just his thing?!”

“Yup.”

“Being on fire?”

Jazz sat up straighter and pointed a finger at Prowl, “Look. I don’t know the full story and I shouldn’t be the one to tell it either, but trust me when I tell you this guy earned it.”

Leaning back, Prowl processed the new layers of insanity humans would apparently subject themselves to before filing it under “Bizarre conversations with Jazz” in his processor and carrying on.

“So what’s your special quality?”

“Me? I’m freakishly good at syncing up with my mech. Like, Blur is faster, but I’m smoother. Like, like that really is me. It just, I dunno, feels right. Fits me.”

Jazz looked over to his mech for a long time. Frowning at the fuel packet in his hands and solemnly crushing it into a ball.

“In terms of mech?” Jazz looked looked over to Prowl, smile returning with ease.

“I think I might be the only one that’s built for the stars.”

Their conversation continued into the evening like a leisurely dance. Discussing Pool Time, the war, cultural differences , the quintessons, their homes, what remained of them, and all the people they know and once knew.

Prowl never brought up Vortex again, though perhaps he should have.

__________________________________________

"What," Prowl choked out, his voice more static than sound. "Is that?"

The sky was green. The quintessions were in chunks. A mech, matte black with a blank visor, caaaarved into the body of the last living invader. A blade that massive was too big to keep a clean cutting edge, so the mech made up for the lack of delicacy with brute force.

It. It wasn't killing the damn thing. It was vivisecting the aliens spinal column from its body, each rib snapping off with a supersonic POP that shook Ratchets hangar and barely carried over the fucking awful sound of the thing screaming in terror.

Prowl would have never thought a Quintession could be a Victim before that moment.

Spine and brain case finally extracted, the mech lifted its prize to its opening vi- mouth.

That is its mouth. It's head was the size of his entire chassis. Inside, a stranger. Over bright eyes, straining and shaking against restraints within to get a better look at what was being held up to him. The mech moved without any input, tilting its helm back and cracking the skull to fill its open maw with cerebral fluid.

A funnel cloud touched down in the distance.

"That.? Jazz said, leaning against Prowls good side. “Is Vortex.”

TH A T. IS VORTEX

Man……I think Cybertronians would consider themselves big and scary compared to primitive earth life. And then meet Vortex. And then see Vortex in their nightmares for the next five million business years

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#this definitely needs trigger warnings ahahahaha #mm #tw gore #mecha pilot jazz au #tf mecha universe

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threadbearsweater · 28 days ago

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one warm day is all i really need | arthur morgan

When you find yourself taken in by a gang of outlaws, the last thing you expect is to grow sweet on one of them- and have the feelings reciprocated. Arthur Morgan doesn't have time for romantic nonsense, but a few memebers of the gang want to make sure that he gets to indulge in his obvious affection toward you. Tags: 3.9k words, an unlikely romance, meddling gang members (with the purest of intentions, one might suppose); female reader, alcohol use, smoking, emotional smut. A repost from a (regretfully) deactivated blog.

Arthur first notices your eyes on him one evening around the campfire at Shady Belle. He won’t accuse you of staring– Lord knows he’s been known to look at you with the same foolish grin you’re wearing now– but he tips his hat to acknowledge you. The heat in your cheeks is suddenly warmer than what the fire has already provided; your grin only grows until your teeth are showing, and you duck your head into your shoulder to hide. Arthur takes a long swig from his whiskey bottle and grimaces as it goes down. He hasn't had a drop of anything in days, and the burn takes a little while to grow numb to now.

“Think she's sweet on you, Morgan,” Sean says in his Irish lilt, giving Arthur an elbow in the ribs.

“Naw, she's lookin’ at you,” Arthur deflects, though he hopes he's wrong. He thinks he knows.

“She told me last week to keep my eyes on my own work,” Sean continues. “I really don't think it's me she wants, Arthur.”

You turn to whisper something to Sadie, who laughs out loud with her face tilted toward the stars. You dare a glance back at Arthur, who is, in fact, looking at you.

Maybe there's some truth to what Mary Beth told you yesterday.

“Arthur's been awful quiet lately.”

The sun shines through the trees and dapples the table where you're seated with bright spots of pale yellow. It's your third round of dominoes with Mary-Beth, and she's whooping your ass, as usual. You don't know how she does it, but each game you play, you're a little more privy to her prowess.

“You think so? I don't know him as well as you.” You hope it isn't obvious that your heart started beating a little faster at the mention of his name. It leaves you breathless.

“Oh yeah,” Mary-Beth continues. “He's been scratchin’ away in that journal of his a lot more, too.” She leans closer, conspiratorial, her eyes twinkling with the gossip she's about to share. “Karen said he went to town twice last week to have a hot bath. If you knew Arthur like I know Arthur, why…you'd know that's highly out of character for him.”

“But you said he'd been quiet. Is that unusual for him, too?”

She hums and purses her lips. “Well you see, Arthur isn't usually a man of many words on a good day. But it's been real bad lately. He don't even give John a hard time like usual.”

You ponder the dominoes for a moment and then make your move. It doesn't earn you any points, but at least you didn't have to draw. “What do you think the problem is?” you ask, nonchalant as possible.

Mary-Beth smiles. Big and bright and sparkling. “Oh, it's not a problem at all.” She lowers her voice and cups her hand to her mouth. “Arthur's in love.”

You gasp, then giggle behind your hand, and Mary-Beth follows suit. Hosea looks on and shakes his head, so you quiet down, reaching across to grab Mary-Beth's hands. “Who do you think it is?”

Her cheeks are tinted pink, and she looks around to make sure there aren't any ears to hear. Word travels fast around camp if one isn't prudent. “I think it's you.”

A thunderstorm rips through Shady Belle a little over a week later. Your little tent that you share with Sadie is ripped straight off its supports in a terrible gust of wind, and you and the others hightail it inside the house to take cover just as it begins to hail. There's quite a ruckus as everyone huddles inside, windblown and rain-soaked. A few of the men hold up lanterns to illuminate the darkness while you watch the lightning and feel the thunder shake the old bones of the house.

“Everyone just calm down,” Dutch calls, descending the stairs, wearing some ridiculous robe with his arms spread wide. “Are we really gonna let a little old thunderstorm keep us from getting a good night's sleep?”

“Says the man with a bed inside the house,” Arthur bites, rounding the corner from what used to be the kitchen, holding a lantern up high in front of him. “Dutch, you better allow these ladies to take cover in here for tonight, or I'll–”

“Or you'll what, Mister Morgan? Pray tell, what kind of man do you take me for?” Dutch's eyes are fiery as he stares Arthur down; a display of dominance. A veritable cockfight.

Arthur's jaw twitches, but he doesn't back down. “The kind of man I should hope would have some goddamn respect for his family.”

There's a tense moment or two where everyone is quiet, then Dutch relents. “Fine, fine! But I expect everyone out there pitching in to clean up in the morning.” He points at Arthur and raises his voice again. “That includes the other man with a bed inside the house,” he sneers.

Arthur shakes his head, then looks away only to catch sight of you, shivering in your wet undergarments, huddled close to Mary-Beth for what little warmth the two of you can share. For a minute, he forgets to breathe, then composes himself enough to cross the room.

“Come on in here. Get yourself warm and dry by the fire.” His hand on your elbow is rough but warm as he leads you toward the fireplace. You nod and look back at Mary-Beth, who shoos you away with a flick of her wrist and a wink; you notice that her teeth are chattering. Despite the humidity that hangs heavy in the air, the temperature has turned chilly with the storm.

Arms crossed over your bosom to preserve any shred of modesty you might have left, you allow yourself to be led away by Arthur. Dutch and some of the others head upstairs while Charles and Javier keep watch from the front porch.

“You alright?” Arthur asks. He covers your shoulders with one of his heavy winter coats, and you pull it around you, grateful for the weight and warmth of it. Another clap of thunder shakes the house and you jump. Arthur chuckles.

“You laughin’ at me?” you quip, placing your palms flat in the direction of the fireplace. You don't even bother to hide the grin you feel curling on your lips.

“No madam, I am not,” Arthur says earnestly, taking a seat beside you on the old wooden crate he's set up as a makeshift bench.

“Then just what do you find so funny, Mister Morgan?”

He scratches the back of his neck, looking into the flames. “Aw, I dunno. I'm sorry. It's just that you're…”

You bump him with your hip, unable to stop the giggles that bubble up from your chest. “I'm what?” you pry.

There's a clatter of something falling on the front porch, and Arthur uses it as a good excuse to get out of this hole he's dug for himself. “I better go see what's going on out there. Charles might need my help.”

“I'm what, Arthur?!” you call, to no avail. He's gone before he can see the proverbial hearts in your eyes.

The saloon in Rhodes is a little nicer than the ones you visited in Valentine, though it's a far cry from the ones you used to frequent in Saint Denis. Still, when Sadie and the other girls decide that it's high time you have a little fun in town, you throw on your best dress and let Karen curl your hair and even apply a little of the makeup you snagged from a homestead up north. For the first time in months, you feel like a proper woman. There isn't time to be melancholy about the past, though, when the boys start whistling and cat-calling upon the sight of you and the other girls.

“Aw, knock it off!” Sadie hollers. She's decided to dress up a little tonight, too, much to everyone's surprise. But she hikes up her skirts to hop into the wagon, calling for the rest of you all to hurry it up. “I've got a bottle of rum with my name on it that's waiting for me to come drink her all down!”

You catch the sunset on the way to town. It's dazzling over the meadows, all golden light and warm, blazing oranges and reds that settle into a brilliant pink by the time your reach the main road into Rhodes. You wish you could see Arthur's eyes, but he's got a handle on the reins next to Charles in the front of the wagon. You've seen him watching the sunset before; he always looks so peaceful those evenings at camp, and you often wonder what he thinks about in those few minutes before the horizon is painted in pastel hues.

Karen starts singing a song that everyone eventually joins, and before you know it, you're pulling up in front of the Rhodes Parlour House. You can already hear the piano and a few voices from outside; the sound of it stirs something in your soul that makes you long for the familiarity of home, but you quickly shove it aside in favor of the company of your new family.

“Madam.” Arthur's voice brings you out of your thoughts and back into the present, where he waits at the back of the wagon with his hand extended to you. You beam at him, and he feels dizzy. And when your soft hand fits into his, he straightens his knees so they don't buckle and betray him.

“Why, thank you, kind sir,” you say, lifting the hem of your skirts to step out onto the dirt road.

Arthur leans in, dangerously close to your ear. You can smell the whisky and cigarettes on his breath, along with the faint tang of gunpowder and hair pomade. “You sure do look nice in that dress.”

You demure and fan yourself with your hand. “Just how much have you had to drink already tonight?” you giggle.

“Ahh, just a little nip to take the edge off.”

“Mm-hm. Sure, Arthur. Whatever you say.”

The night starts off relatively calm, as most nights do. You and the other girls find an empty table to sit and pick up on the town gossip, and the men start a hand of poker. It grows loud and crowded sometime around midnight, and it's hard to have a conversation without shouting over the din of voices, the clink of glass bottles, and the slow drag ragtime music from the piano. The ambiance is charming and lighthearted, and there are even a few couples drunkenly dancing on the porch.

You push back in your chair and find that when you stand, you're a little more wobbly than you thought you would be. The alcohol has loosened you more than you realize, and you grip the table for support until you feel a firm arm around your waist. “Whoa there.”

It's Arthur, who has won the last round of poker and has come to check in on you and the other ladies. You're pulled tight against his chest for one fleeting moment, and you look up into his eyes. He, too, seems drunk, with his eyes gleaming and drooping at the corners, his smile easy and his cheeks flushed.

“My knight in shining armor,” you slur, pretending to faint in his embrace. He only pulls you tighter against him, both of his broad hands splayed across your back. You laugh, and he smiles.

“You weren't getting another drink, were ya?” he questions with a raise of his brow.

“‘m thirsty,” you whine, lifting your empty glass entirely too close to his face. It knocks against his nose, which sends you into another fit of laughter.

Arthur takes your wrist– gentle but firm– and lowers the glass away. “Think you need to drink something that's not whiskey,” he drawls. You can't help but watch the way his lips form around the words; the slip of his tongue between his teeth, the way his mouth turns up into the hint of a smile when you pout. Before you can think too long and hard about it, you lunge forward and kiss him. Hard and clumsy and impulsive. You don't give him time to react. You're far too involved in the kiss to notice, but the girls at the table behind you have all gone silent. Arthur slides his hand along the side of your face and presses his fingers upon the nape of your neck, kissing you back like he really means it. (He really does.)

You pull back suddenly, breathless and reeling, swiping the back of your hand over your mouth. You're still held firm in his embrace, but the playfulness in his gaze has been replaced with an intensity that makes your knees weak all over again.

“What'd ya do that for?” he asks.

“Could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, you started it.”

“And you finished it.”

“Oh, I ain't finished with you, yet.”

“That a promise or a threat?” Your pulse is thumping wildly in your ears.

“Ya know, they got rooms upstairs for that!” Sadie shouts. There's a ripple of laughter across the table. Arthur's hand on your cheek feels like a brand, his arm about your waist an anchor. The rest of the room comes back to you in a woozy blur, and you look around, a little lovestruck and a whole lot drunk. Arthur's lips at your temple make your eyes flutter shut, and the room fades to black as tIt'weight of you slumps against him. He staggers only slightly, but holds you firm, chuckling softly.

“It's a promise,” he whispers.

You come to some hours later. Your mouth is dry as the desert, your head feels like lead, your skin broken out in a cold, uncomfortable sweat. At some point, it seems you were covered with a downy soft blanket, and the pillow at your head is much more fluffy than the makeshift one you made out of a bedroll at camp. At first, you think you're dreaming. Then, you wonder very briefly if you're back at your childhood home in Saint Denis. You almost call out to your mother when you hear a soft snore from the other side of your bed.

The room spins when you turn your head, and you rub your eyes until Arthur comes into focus. He's sprawled in an armchair a few feet away. His arms are crossed over his chest while his chin is tucked into his chest. Off to the side, you spy his boots; his big toe pokes through a hole in his sock and you smile at how vulnerable he looks.

“Arthur,” you whisper, shifting slightly as you pull the blanket up around your chin.

He grunts and lifts his head slowly. He frowns a little at first, but when he focuses on you lying there, so close he could reach out and kiss you again like he did last night, there's a slow, easy smile that spreads across his face.

“Hey there, party girl. You feeling alright?”

You could kick yourself for all the giggling you've done around him lately, but you can't help it. He brings out something giddy and downright foolish inside you, so you toss a pillow at him and bury your face in the sheets.

“Aw, come on now. I'm just messin’ with ya.” He leans forward and rubs your head affectionately. “I'd say you were feeling pretty good last night.”

It's in that moment a white-hot jolt of sheer panic shoots down your spine. Quickly, you check to make sure you're still wearing clothes. Aside from your breasts being a little lopsided in the confines of your bodice, you're relieved to find that your dress is still intact and– more importantly– on your body. You dare another peek at Arthur and notice that his shirt is unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest and he's discarded his vest somewhere, but he, too, is fully clothed. Thank the good Lord above.

You must've said that last part aloud, because Arthur laughs. “Don't worry, nothing happened. Though it weren't for lack of tryin’ on your part,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Thought I was gonna have to lock you in here like some feral cat till you settled down.”

Oh. Oh Lord. You try to recall what happened that led you to this room, but all that comes to mind is a lot of loud conversation, some dancing, a spilled drink across Sadie's lap, and Arthur's hand on the side of your cheek. “Oh…”

Now you remember it in vivid detail.

“Didn't know you cared for me like that,” he says. It's earnest and tender, a few shades less intense than the kiss you now recall, the one where it felt like he wanted to eat you alive right there in the middle of the saloon. Now, he thumbs your cheek and looks at you so fondly you swear your heart jumps right up in your throat. “I mean, I'd been hoping. Wasn't sure you was looking for a romance.” He huffs a short sigh, frustrated with himself. “Aw, hell, what am I saying? ‘Course you weren't. You're just looking to survive, just like the rest of us, and here I–”

“Shut up,” you say, taking hold of his hand and tugging him closer. He resists until you pull even harder, watching the fire in your eyes blaze to life. “You talk too much, Yankee.”

“I ain't no damn–”

“Kiss me.”

He's over you in an instant; you're pressed flat against the bed, completely and totally at his mercy. This kiss feels different than the drunken one last night. It's sober and honest, if not a little hesitant, as if he's holding himself back from devouring you wholly. The warmth of his body against yours takes your breath away. Or maybe it's the way his tongue laves heavy into your mouth, unashamed of how badly he craves the taste of you. You grip his hair at the roots and tug him down to kiss him harder, lifting your upper body to meet him until he presses down, his chest flush with yours.

Things get heated quickly.

His mouth moves across your cheek, down your neck, and he groans against your skin, rutting his cock against your thigh. You fleetingly wish that he had managed to get you out of that dress before he presumably tucked you into bed and passed out in that chair, because there’s a whole lot of fabric between you and him that really pisses you off right now. Arthur must feel much the same, because he’s bunching your skirts up past your knees while you’re fumbling with his belt buckle, desperate to feel him against you, inside you. It’s clumsy and crazed, rushed and rough, but you manage somehow to shuck off every last bit of your clothes and his until you’re breathless and so, so eager beneath him.

“Need you now,” you whine. You feel insane. Dizzy and dehydrated, impossibly turned on, every nerve ending on fire when his callused hands grip the fat of your thighs and open you to him.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?” One of his hands slips between your legs to find you wet and swollen. He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and pushes a finger inside you; the sound you make nearly has him finishing there on the sheets, so he wastes no time in getting himself as close to you as humanly possible.

“Never wanted something so bad,” he murmurs into the dip of your shoulder. He wants all of you– all at once– wants to fuse his hands against your skin and sink himself into you so deep that it would be impossible to tell where he ends and you begin. The heat from his body takes away what little breath you have left, his mouth on each part of your body building the buzz in your chest until you feel like you might just burst open. You grabbed at each other like it was the first and last time you might have this opportunity, as if you wanted more than what the other of you was able to give.

Considering the kind of life you’ve both led so far, it’s a good possibility that you might never get to do this again.

“Give it to me,” you plead, opening yourself further to him, fingers wrapped firm around the base of his cock. “Please.”

Arthur Morgan is a man of incredible strength and self restraint, except when it comes to a woman like you.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he takes you. It’s primal, sweaty, filthy, rough. Arthur pushes as far inside you as he can go, then pushes further when you beg for more. He cups your knees with slick palms and presses you open as far as you can bend; you tug roughly at his hair and bite down on his shoulder when the pleasure builds to a blinding ferocity. The wooden bedframe knocks angrily against the wall with each thrust, but you can’t bring yourself to care if anyone hears. You can’t focus on anything beyond the feeling of him filling you with every stroke of his cock, of the taut, corded muscle in his back and shoulders as you grapple to hang on as tight as you can. Your orgasm hits your hard and fast, and he encourages you through it, taking his time to give you long, controlled strokes. It’s as pleasurable for him as it is for you. “‘Atta girl,” he rasps, lips moving against your ear. Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle your cries, but he pulls it away and threads his fingers with yours, pressing it onto the pillow. “I wanna hear it.”

Your moans are what drive him over the edge.

He buries his face against the side of your neck, panting heavily as he comes, driving into you so hard that you can almost feel the mattress beneath you begin to sag under the weight. You cradle his head in your hands and link your legs around his waist, boneless and languid in the aftermath of your own pleasure. When he moves, you move with him, riding out the waves together until you’re both too tired to move another muscle.

Neither of you speak for a while. He lies on his back with an arm around your shoulders while you curl against him, tuned into his heartbeat and swirling little patterns into the hair on his chest. It’s comforting to feel him next to you, to watch his chest rise and fall as he steadies his breathing, to soak up the warmth of his skin against yours.

You’re the first to break the silence. “Did everyone else go back to camp last night?”

Arthur nods slowly. “Something tells me they planned all this.”

“Planned it? You mean…” You lift your arm slowly and flick your wrist to acknowledge the room you’re laying in. “This?” You lift your chin and grin at him. “Or getting us together?”

“Room was paid for before I even had a chance to ask if they had one,” he explains. “Think it was Mrs. Adler.”

You vaguely recall her shouting something about a room after you kissed Arthur last night, and you shake your head. “You complaining?”

He turns to his side, draping an arm across your hip. “Me? Never.” You’re suddenly pressed beneath him once again; from the looks of it, you won’t be getting out of this bed anytime soon. “Specially when I’ve got you here to help me keep warm.”

#arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 x reader #red dead redeption 2 x reader #arthur morgan smut #my writing

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tojisth3rdwife · 4 months ago

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“Bout time you answered the damn phone..”

You wrinkle your nose at the hint of attitude in Toji’s deep voice, finding it a little cute since you knew that just his personality.

With your phone tucked between your ear and shoulder, you continued working down the mountain of laundry in the basket on your living room floor.

“Uhm, rude?” you snort, tossing a freshly folded towel to join its appropriate pile before picking up another.

“What ever happened to ‘hello’ or ‘hey big booty’ ?”

“I reserve those types of greetings for girlfriends that pick up the first time I call.”

At that you roll your eyes, snatching up another towel.

“Girlfriends? So theres others?” you begin folding it. The faint sound of echoe’d music and a muffled voice requesting assistance in the frangrance department let you know Toji was out and about, more than likely at some convenience store.

The big nasty was probably restocking on condoms and that special brand of lube he used on you a while back. The one that resulted in you needing to change your bed sheets.

Twice.

“See, I could play your game and say there are others just to fuck with you....’xcuse me...” he pauses to say to an older woman he squeezed past in the aisle.

“...but you cant take a damn joke and I plan on getting some tonight.”

You pert your lips at the statement but dont argue. Even in the several months you and Toji became exclusive, it was true that his sense of humor surpassed yours when it came to him and other women. You werent nearly as possessive or jealous as he was (usually), but he knew better than to test it.

“Smart. Im glad you value your life. Talk to me nice.” you respond in the most brattish way, making your boyfriend chuckle dryly on the other end of the phone.

“Shut up. Anyway, what kind of soap do you use again? I vaguely remember what it looks like but theres 5 bottles that match what I see in my brain.”

“Soap? Like to wash my body?” you furrow your brow distractedly, continuing to fold clothes.

“Naw to wash your dog.” he tosses back sarcasticaly. If there was a camera crew in your house, you’d be glancing at them with a deadpanned look of annoyance.

You didnt have a dog.

“Would it be so hard just to answer a question? I swear I dont like you sometimes.” you mutter, flapping out the pair of pants you were about to fold and Toji’s smirk is as audidle as his snickering.

“But you love me all the time. Now stay focused. Soap. The kind you wash your ass with.”

You sigh in exasperation at the simple question. And it was for sure simple ,but as many times as Toji had been in your shower, sometimes with you, he should be able to know which damn soap you used.

Old ass..

“Dr.Bronner’s babe. Unscented..”

“The light blue one. See, I knew I remembered it.”

Toji snatches the largest bottle of pure castile soap from the shelves. His massive hand grasps it effortlessly as he made his way to another aisle, squinting at a display of electric shavers curiously.

“Well alright. Thats all I wanted. Carry on cheating or whatever you doing..”

You let out a loud breath, tossing the pair of pants aside.

“Why are you like this? That’s not funny, you know?”

“What?” Toji strolls leisurely down the shave aisle now, eyeing the array of products.

“You saying shit like that. Accusing me of cheating every time I don’t pick up or text back fast. Its irritating..” you huff, aggressively flapping out another pair of sweats that you immediately knew belonged to Toji.

“Is it?”

“Is it?” You mock him, balling up his oversized joggers scornfully and throwing them on the floor. God he was annoying. If he werent so fine, and tall, and big..

And fit.

And sexy.

And intimidating.

And..

What were we talking about?

A breathy chuckle vibrates against your ear, as well as the echoing *beep* of the cashiers growing louder, both yanking you off your tangent.

“Aww, mama. Don’t be like that. I only say it as a joke. I know you’d never cheat on me ‘cuz my dick’s too big.” Toji remarks all too casually, not even acknowledging the way an old man shoots him a disgustingly surprised look at his crudeness out loud as he walked past him.

You snort in amusement and shake your head.

“True. But don’t be so sure. Theres plenty of trees in the forest.” You remark cheekily, glad that you weren’t in front of him after saying that. Part of you wished you were though. Watching those pretty beady eyes of his shrink with his glare was equal parts scary and arousing. To your surprise, Toji finds your rebuttal funny enough to laugh.

“You must really want me to fold your ass like a futon, huh? Just wait, I’ll be by there later.”

Toji turns to get in line at a check out lane. A little girl standing with her mother behind him stares up at his back with wide eyes, probably never seeing a man of his size and stature. Ya boy was scraping at 6’3 barefoot, so in shoes he was surely around 6’4. Even you would find yourself gaping up at him when he stood in front of you.

“Yeah? What you gon do?

*beep*

Toji shuffles forward, the scarred corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk.

“Fold you like a futon. Duh. You want candy?” He quickly changes the subject distractedly, falling victim to the mini wall of chocolate bars and gum.

The threat makes your core flutter while his subtle way of always keeping you in mind had you biting down on your grin as you continued folding laundry.

“Nooo, Baby. I don’t want candy. Thank you though.” You giggle, rolling your eyes.

“Well dont ask for some of mine ‘cuz I aint sharing..” Toji grumbles, still picking up two candy bars.

“Mmhmm.”

Having folded the final article of clothing and setting it aside, you sink back into the couch cushions with a huff, lifting your hand to untuck your phone and hold it against your ear.

“So wait, thats why you were blowing me up? Over soap?”

“Basically. I wanted you to have your own for when you stay with me. I know you have sensitive skin and shit…” he responds before reciprocating the cashiers greeting as he set his items on the belt.

“Awwww DaddyBear, how considerate of you. I wanna kiss you now, instead of slapping your face”

“Youre too easy to impress woman. Its just soap. You leave shit at my apartment anyway so I figured you’d wanna have something to shower with too.”

“I know but it’s still sweet. Come over now so I kiss on you and touch your butt.”

Toji snorts at your antics, knowing damn well he wasn’t letting your hands go anywhere near his ass.

“Yeah yeah. I gotta swing by Shui’s to pick up some money then Im gonna head your way.”

“Ok. But wait, you still could have just texted me that. Why call and make a fuss?”

“Damn. Maybe I also just like hearing your whiny ass voice y’know?”

You sigh, your giddiness fading immediately.

“Just hurry up and come over, ass.”

“See? Can never take a joke.”

“Bye Toji.”

“See you later Big Booty..”

#toji fanfic #anime #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji boyfriend

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abeejasarts · 5 months ago

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I absolutely LOVE the Bill Goldilocks Cipher AU. (AU by @ckret2) I love it to bits. I think that its important everyone knows WHY I love it so much so more after the cut

I have recently gotten into reading the Bill “Goldilocks” Cipher AU, and I’m absolutely in love. (As an important note, I am on chapter 45) Not just because of the characterization and how it feels like how all the characters would act and adventures that could happen in the show, but also because specifically what Bill looks like. And I WILL INFODUMP!

Bill, for context, is stuck in this body. it’s not something he’s possessing, it’s his own body, but it was made by a computer. He created it instantaneously to escape the Theraprism (in an INCREDIBLE one shot I suggest fans of the Book of Bill read)

But then he got stuck. He couldn’t leave it, his soul was essentially stitched to the body with no powers and no way to escape. And he hates it. Bills body doesn’t look like him, not because it’s a woman, because it’s a human, and he wishes he was still a 2D triangle. The FACT that it’s a woman, the fact that it doesn’t match up with what we the audience imagine Bill would look like, let’s us imagine some of that “this isn’t right” dysphoria that is so essential to the story and Bill’s characterization. Of course we would imagine Bill to be a man, but he isn’t here. When he says he hates how his body curves and moves, we think, “oh, he means cause he’s a woman” NAW HE JUST WANTS TO BE 2D! It’s BRILLIANT!

But that’s not all!

Bills entire reason for escape is because he doesn’t want to stop being himself. He doesn’t want the prison to take away his memories or make him “perfect”, he just wants to be him and he’ll do anything to stay himself. He wants to be free.

and then when he escapes to try to stay himself forever, to “freedom”, he’s immediately trapped again. He’s trapped inside Gravity Falls, he’s trapped with the Pines, but worse; he’s trapped in a foreign body. He isn’t himself. The thing he wanted most cost him what he was fighting for to begin with.

This AU is so beautiful. It’s amazing. I adore it. And Author, if you’re reading this, your work has brought me many days of brainrot and joy.

Also, importantly, I haven’t read through the authors blog, so there’s a chance that they just think Bill should be a woman and that’s just what he would look like humanized, and there’s nothing deeper than that and I’ve made a fool of myself. If that’s the case, and the whole “the audience understands the dysphoria” part isn’t correct, I apologize, but if that is what you were going for, you did it perfectly and please never stop writing because it inspires me.

Also I have more fan art coming this AU really did give me serious brainrot like nothing else

#my art #gravity blorbos #gravity falls #bill goldilocks cipher #AND I WILL GO INTO DETAIL!!!#bill cipher

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negrowhat · 1 month ago

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Fave Love Scenes of 2024

Still working on the handful of end of year prompts @babyangelsky 's 2024 wrap up. I have one more to do after this one! It's been fun and the more I do these wrap ups the more I see that I really, really didn't watch as many series this year as I thought I did and quite a few didn't keep my attention after they ended the way I thought they would. My attention span is already short and I found it challenging to recall some of these from my challenged memory.

AlanJeff's Final Love Scene from Pit Babe. Oh it left me OBSESSED! It's highkey the scene that turned me into a full-on AlanJeff girlie. It was gentle and passionate and slow and a bit lazy; very in the moment since Alan had just woken up. Loved when Jeff kissed Alan's forehead while Alan kissed his chest. Loved the close-up of their faces pressed together, they looked like a painting. It was a perfect love scene. I need AlanJeff back ASAP.

PhayaTharn Special Ep Love Scene from The Sign. I was going to say the pink scene (lordt knows I love it)...but I feel like we never talked enough about the one from the special ep and I'm sure it's because of how late the special ep was released internationally. Anyways Tharn really thought he was about to leave that bedroom un-fucked on Phaya's watch??? Naw. Hell Naw! He really had that man up against the door. And of course Tharn likes it because he's dreamt about Phaya pressing him up against hard surfaces. And choking, Tharn has dreamt about that too and Phaya knows what his man likes. Tharn looks so pretty even though it's clear he's a bit annoyed I'm sure he enjoyed the dickdown first thing in the AM. BillyBabe are gorgeous together.

Go Young and Young Su Makeup Sex from Love in the Big City. It's toxic. It's hott. It's relatable. It's well shot and well executed. Absolutely love how feral they became in that scene. Big fan of the manhandling and lifting. I doubt that was the first time Young Su had done that with Go Young. I'm sure it was Young Su's 'Go To' to calm Young down. Sometimes some fire dick will make you temporarily calm down and forget your boyfriend is a hot ass mess...more of a hot mess than you are which is actually crazy to think about.

All of OabPlawan's Love Scenes from Love No Long Beans. Because it would be a crime for me to have a favorite. SailubPon are featured twice on this list because they truly have some insane physical chemistry and their love scenes are up there with BossNoeul for me. I love that OabPlawan rarely had love scenes in bed, just getting down and dirty whenever and wherever they felt like it. It really showed how they just went with it when it hit them. It showed that despite their secrecy, they wouldn't be confined to a bed. Oab seemed to be a huge fan of lifting and bending Plawan over stationary surfaces. I approve of their unapologetic and inappropriate uses of counters.

Horny Miyata Being Mad At Iwanaga from Love is Better the Second Time Around. It was such a great love scene. Iwanaga was very much excited to be intimate with someone he held so dearly. Someone he loved. And though Miyata was a very willing participant he couldn't stop thinking about how good at The Sex Iwanaga was because it reminded him that Iwanaga was this intimate with other men. Why did it bother him? Because he felt like Iwanaga had moved on while he was stuck in the past, unable to give himself to anyone else; equating sex to love.

WayuJao's Love Scene from Two Worlds. We got ONE WayuJao love scene and it was amazing. The two of them in that dark ass abandoned house with the soft glow of candlelight. Jao was looking so incredibly nervous. Wagyu Beef was being very careful because Jao was hurt. I love that they kissed each other all over. The scene was intimate, slow, and passionate. Also who was expecting to see that much ass? Also, also Jao was doing a lot of movement with his punctured leg. I do wish we had more time with them in the series because I loved them together.

HuaiBao Hands Scene from Meet You At the Blossom. Perfection, so much so that it was my banner for a long ass time. Xiaobao had a way of making Huai'en feel shy, possessive, and insane all at once. I just found the love scene to be incredibly sweet and romantic. The hand kiss floored me along with their gentle smiles. The way Huai'en was running his hand down Xiaobao's thigh. The way he lightly raised Xiaobao's wrists above his head and how that turned into clasped fingers???? Pure art. Also I just loved Xiaobao's gold bangles in that scene.

GreatTyme's First Time in Great's Dying Brain from 4 Minutes. Oh it was so incredibly awkward. Great out of breath and laughing while Tyme kinda hovers over him. WHEN HE KISSED HIS FOREHEAD! Their kisses were sweet. I love how we got a lil awkward conversation in the silence while they tried to undress and figure things out. LOVED, LOVED, LOVED the close-up shots of Great's thigh tattoos and that hand pulling Tyme in closer. Great's Cartier bracelet!!! The way they were smiling and panting in each others faces; kissing and laughing. I also loved the golden light around them. It definitely had the ambiance of a dream.

GreatTyme's Actual First Time from 4 Minutes. It was fun. The open mouth kisses excellent. The way Great couldn't even wait until they got inside to go down on Tyme. And I cheered when Tyme pulled him back up for a kiss right after. Let's talk about Tyme eating Great out on the pool table and the way he was kissing all over the back of his neck! Let's talk about him biting that man's ass cheek. When Great put the condom on Tyme and lubed him up???? Oh that was hott!. Loved watching Great ride Tyme. Tyme's hands gripping and caressing Great's neck and chest and that overhead shot so we could see the gorgeous thigh tattoos again! Yea 10/10. IDK why Tyme was looking like he was annoyed because he was having a good time, the best time. I know sex with Great was the best he ever had.

Jack and Joke's First Time from Jack & Joker. Yea when they started off with Jack shoving Joke up against that wall through the clothes on the hangers? He hit the wall so hard I thought they were fighting and I thought Jack had put Joke through the wall. I love the way they kept shoving each other over so they could be on top. I love that they were both so out of breath the whole time. I loved the messy kisses, the choking, and chin grabbing. Loved the way they had to compromise or they would've been flipping each other over the rest of the series. I just know they left hella bruises and scratches all over each other. Those boys were hungry and feral.

ArashiRei's First Time from Love in the Air Koi. The way Arashi's giant ass had Rei pressed up against that wall, face buried in his neck and shoving his hands under his shirt? Rei looked so overwhelmed he really couldn't even respond, thought he was gon pass out. When Arashi lays Rei down and they kiss and Arashi starts licking Rei's lips?????????? We even got a brief shot of Arashi going down on Rei and I love the view we got of Arashi's back when he was pumping into Rei. Also Rei's moaning gave a porno vibe just a bit which I did enjoy.

#pit babe #pit babe the series #the sign #the sign the series #love in the big city #this love doesn't have long beans #sailubpon #love is better the second time around #koi wo suru nara nidome ga joto #two worlds #two worlds the series #meet you at the blossom #4 minutes #jack and joker #jack & joker #love in the air koi #love in the air: koi no yokan

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maeblack · 1 year ago

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„God, I love the way my name sounds, if you moan it like this, cara mia“

Paring: Theodore Nott x reader

Warnings: smut and a bit dominant Theo

also, English is not my first language and I’m doing my best, so please be patient with me and be warned :)

Word count: 2508

Summary: sometimes jealousy leads to hot shower sex and affirmations

„Theo?!“ my voice echoed from the walls like my steps. Which became even quicker as I neared myself to the boys change room. Where the hell was he? Without a knocking I swung the door open. A few curses were heard and every pair of eyes laid on me, as I passed the few still changing boys.

„Y/n, what gives us the honor to welcome you in our secret place of hottness?“ Draco purred as he leans against the wall near his locker. The black towel around his waist hung dangerously loosely. Which exposed his well trained body and didn’t left many space for imagination what’s underneath. As i didn’t respond, he spoke up again „you like what you see?“ he teased. „Unfortunately yes, but i‘m not here for you, Malfoy“ I explained sweetly.

While I snaked past him, I mocked: „sorry, I think you need to wait for the next pretty girl, who crosses your way, if you’re half naked, to suck the life out of your dick“. A few chuckles filled the moist air. „This beautiful case happens not as rare as you might think lovely y/n“ he responded as he turned around to face me. I had stopped in front of Theo’s open locker. „Sure Malfoy“ I muttered absent, as I scanned the things in front of me. The quidditch uniform hung on the open locker door. That meant he‘s not in the hospital wing. Good. So he doesn’t have to go there twice on a day when I’m done with him.

But his favorite black sweater also still hung in the locker. So he weren’t already back in his dorm. Or hers. Which was the actual reason I was here. „Where is he?“ i questioned snippy. „I don’t know who you talking about, if you have such an attitude“ Draco shrugged. I inhaled sharp. „my dearest friend Draco, it would be very nice, if you tell me where I can find Theodore“ I declared with a fake smile in my face, my voice still snippy. „Hm I don’t know, if I would be a good friend to him, if I tell you where he is, when you are that mad at him“ Draco explained while he pulled his shirt over his head. „I just want to know, if this whore is with him“ I revealed trough clenched teeth. Silence. „He‘s still in the shower“ he informed me grinning „I don’t know if he’s alone“. „Oh“ I said. My voice sounded more uncertain as intended. Draco chuckled. „Naw if you‘re scared to go in, you can still accept my offer“ he teased, while he fiddled on the towel around his waist. „No thanks“ I admitted quick „I’m already a big girl and I can handle my jealousy alone“. With this I turned on my heal and went straight into the shower room.

The moment I stepped in, the humidity increased immeasurably. The room was filled in steam fog, which enveloped Theo’s tall figure. He stood with his back to me under one of the showers in the back of the elongated room. He was alone. An indescribable burden fell from my heart. The stream of water washed around his body as I came closer. With one hand on the wall, he supported himself, while his dark brown curls hung into his closed eyes. My anger was floated away as my eyes scanned ever millimeter of his gorgeous body. No hickeys. Just his cute freckles all along his neck down to his shoulders. The butterflies in my belly did some flips as they went crazy. The muscles on his back twitching, as he lifted his head and stretched it towards the heated water. The space in between my tights already as wet as the air around us. „Do you want to keep staring at me or will you join me?“ Theo’s husky voice reached my brain. I nervously cleared my throat. He chuckled raspy, which send shivers down my spine. He would be the death of me, I already knew it. Why did I thought I would be able to yell at him while he‘s IN SHOWER? Only the thought about his body made me numb. And now I was more than able to see everything. God

A few moments must have passed since my voice was lastly heard, because now I was the one with a raspy whispering voice. „I was searching for you“. It sounded sweet. Merlin. I was pissed until I took the step inside the shower room. Since when did Theodore Nott made me that weak?

„Aha“ he made slowly, bringing me back to reality. „Then congratulations… you found me“ he purred while he let his head fell back. My body heated up even more. How could someone look that good? It was a curse and blessing together to have this beautiful sight of him. „Then what do you want from me, if it’s not joining me?“ he asked again. For a moment I was confused myself. „If you just wanted to know where I am, you could have asked somebody? You didn’t have to follow me into the shower…“ he added. „Oh yeah?“ I snipped. My voice had its force back. „Maybe your new fangirl could have told me where you are! But oh wait, I forgot, she left together with you“. With every word I talked myself back in anger again. For a few seconds the water streaming on the floor was the only thing heard. He chuckled quietly as he shook his head slightly.

Only as he turned around to face me, I noticed how close I stood. The water from his hair dropped on my face as I glanced up at him. My eyes still sparkled aggressively. But as I got lost in his deep brown hazel eyes, I felt my knees go weak again. My breath went hard. The anger still slightly cocking in my veins. But I got more and more distracted as my gaze followed the tiny watersprinkles which made their way down his face. It looked so magical.

„Is there someone jealous?“ he questioned after his eyes had searched along my whole face. His voice unfathomable, which made my heart twitch. I wasn’t sure what to say. Could I admit that I am jealous? Am I allowed to be jealous? Actually not. We weren’t together. He wasn’t mine. And I wasn’t his. God why am I even here then?

In the shower. While he‘s completely naked. And I’m fully dressed.

The second I thought about it, was the first moment I could feel the hot water streaming down at me, even though I stood like this for minutes. After this determination my eyes flew automatically down my soaked wet cloths. And with this, down his body too. His incredibly defined abs peaked out his upper body. I fought against the instinct to slid my fingertips along them. His cock already standing hard. Which made me bite my lower lip while I felt my mid already clenching.

„Y/n“ His voice brought my attention back to his lips. „Why are you here?“ he asked urgently. My voice trembled as I started to mouth an answer „I just had to make sure if you’re here. With her.“ „and then?“ he questioned darkly. I shivered. „What do you thought we would do here together?“ he continued his asking. „I -“ I started searching for the right words. „Go on little y/n“ he purred „tell me your naughty thoughts“. I swallowed hard against my dry throat. Why did he had such an effect on me? Even if it would be possible not to think about his hard cock. Which now slightly tipped against my mid as he came closer to tug my hair behind my ear. I melted under his touch and my whole body burned.

„Tell me what you thought we were doing in here“ he demanded.

I gathered all my courage as I spoke up. „After I saw how she undressed you with her looks on the pitch, I thought I would find her on her knees for you. Sucking your dick like you deserve after the good match“ I explained as I lifted my chin towards him. „Aha“ he hummed, his voice melodically. A grin drawn on his lips. „You think I deserve a naughty little whore who sucks my dick?“ he questioned. I nodded. „And why in this case you wanted to stop her?“ Theo asked taunting. „Because it’s my job“ I said, not knowing where his sudden confident came from. „Aha“ he repeated his answer from before. This time his grin grew even bigger.

„Then I won’t hold you back any longer… do what you’re here for“ Theo crooned. His left hand, which loosely hung in my hair after he tugged it behind, grabbed deeper in my strains and pushed me slightly down on my knees. My mouth milliliters away from his dick. I looked up through my lashes and locked eyes with him as I straddled his cock with my fingers. I admired the changing expression in his face as I licked his tip. He breathed in sharp as I took his hard cock in my mouth. His soft skin unter my tongue made me melt. And as his groans filled the air, my mid was dripping for him.

„Oh Merlin - y/n“ he groaned trough clenched teeth as I took him all in „you do your job fucking good“. As his muscle twitched he withdrew from my mouth and pulled me back to my stand. His hand still grabbed with full force in my hair as he brought me in front of his lips. Every inch of my body ached for him. „And now, amore mio? What happens next in your dirty little mind?“ Theo’s voice dagging deep into my brain. „I want to feel you“ I admit while locking eyes with him. His intense stare made my body melt in pure pleasure. And as his lips formed into a grin, I knew my deepest desire would come true. Slowly he closed the last gab between us and placed his soft lips demandingly on mine. Our lips moved so sync I thought I‘ve already kissed him a hundred times. His other hand found it’s place on my waist to pull me even closer, so every part of my body could feel his. And how I could feel his body. His cock pressed hard agains my belly while he pressed me against him and my back on the cold wall behind us. I wanted to melt together with him and stay like this forever.

But my aching mid reminded me of what I really needed. „Theo“ I managed to say under my heavy breathing „I want you inside of me“. His eyes sparkled furiously as he took a step back. „If you take off your cloths for me, I will do anything for you to make you feel as good as you made me feel, while my dick fucked your beautiful mouth“ he said and his voice sounded like honey. In trance I took of my all wet sweater. It fell to the ground with a muffled noice. Then I opened the zip of my skirt, which made it slid down my legs slowly. Never breaking eye contact with his beautiful hazel eyes. Patient he waited as I unclipsed my bra until I freed my breasts. Suddenly he was right in front of me. His lips on my neck, searching for my sweet spots, making me gasp. His hands all around me. His fingertips softly caressed my burning skin. And his tip pressing against my soaked panties. „So wet for me already, cara mia?“ he said sweetly „and I have barely touched you yet“. „Mhm“ I mumbled. I was about to melt in his hands. Only the nickname he called me made me weak.

And then there were his soft lips sucking on my neck, leaving marks, everyone could see the next day. But I don’t care. I wanted to be his. And I wanted everyone to see. Slowly he kissed himself down to my breasts. The moment he took my nipple in his mouth to play with his tongue, I know, I must be in heaven. I moaned out his name. His hands rooming my body and sliding down my panties. „Theo, please“ I pleaded. As he didn’t responded nor did anything else than before, the aching pain in my mid grew bigger. I whimpered again until he let go of my breast and looked deep in my eyes, while he came closer. Right in front of my lips he stopped and whispered: „I like it when you plead for my dick“. Then he closed the gap between us again and kissed me. This time his tongue become even more forceful than before and I could only bare imagine, how it would feel to have his tongue playing with my pearl. The moment I tought about it, I felt his thumb where I needed him the most. I gasped as he quickly rubbed against it. My whimpers became moans at the sudden intense feeling. And as the feeling in my stomach grew bigger and bigger I started to moan out his name again. Whereupon he locked eyes with me. „God, I love the way my name sounds, if you moan it like this, cara mia“ he whispered. Only his words were enough to push me over the edge.

But he didn’t give me time to ride out my orgasm. Instead he pressed his tip on my pulsating clit and cared it along my entrance before he spoke again: „and because you moaned my name so beautifully, I want to know how it sounds, if I give you a reason to scream it“. With this he pushed his tip deep inside of me. With one hand on the wall and the other around my throat, he supported himself as he drove deeper with every thrust, while he fucked me against the wall. And as he said, with the feeling of his hard dick pumping into me, he made me scream his name over and over again. As he pleased spots I never new even existed, he made me reach one high after the other.

One of my hands searching for support in his dark curls, while my finders played with his strains. The other one laid on his shoulder, digging my nails in his soft skin. As his trusts became harder, he broke the connection to my neck, where he drew a masterpiece of his affection. „Since I heard you scream my name, amore mio, I don’t want to hear anyone else say it like that ever again“ he confessed breathlessly between his trusts. The nickname and the affirmation pushed me over the edge again. I whimpered and clenched around him, which dragged him with me into his orgasm. „I‘ll moan it for you anytime… I‘m all yours Theodore“ I whispered trembling in his ear, which made him groan as he nestled his face between my neck and my hair.

#theodore nott #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott smut #smut #draco malfoy #quidditch #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp #slytherin

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trippinsorrows · 2 months ago

Text

in your hands + three

authors note: ya'll been on me for this, so here it is. hope it lives up to expectations!

need to catch up? read part one HERE and part two HERE.

warnings: fluff and a tiny bit of smut

words: 8k (again, don't ask)

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” Solana confesses. “I mean, it’s just….it’s just dinner, ya know?”

Kayden lifts her eyes from Raya who continues to grasp at her ombre braid, staring with all the fascination in her little world. “Seriously?”

Solana frowns. “What?”

“Just a date?” Kayden scoffs and grabs onto Raya who’s suddenly intent on crawling away from her godmother to further explore the apartment that’s essentially her second home. “Sis, need I remind you that man blew your back out and had you speaking six other languages?”

Solana looks away, heat rising to her cheeks. “I didn’t…..I didn’t say all that.”

“You didn’t have to.” A glance at Kayden reveals her knowing smirk. “That walk the next day told me all I needed to know.”

And the blush is increasing. Solana can’t deny it. Roman’s dick is huge, and in the moment, it felt amazing, but her soreness the next day certainly did not. Not enough to not try again if given the opportunity. No….not at all.

“Naw, but forreal, you’re nervous because of this adorable lil’ munchkin right there,” Kayden gestures to Raya who’s given up on her great escape attempt and has settled for one of her toys as a means for passing time. “It is pretty….interesting that he said it was cool for you to bring her.”

Solana has a feeling that interesting is not the word Kayden really wants to use. “You think it’s weird?”

She shakes her head. “Not that. It’s just…..I guess, I’m not used to seeing that,” she admits. “I feel like most men don’t want to give women with kids the time of day.”

Solana nods, adjusting her position on the sofa. “I agree.” She groans and finds herself asking, “should I just cancel?”

Kayden gasps. “Absolutely not! I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it.” Carefully grabbing Raya as she moves to stand up, Solana is reminded, “didn’t you say you really like him?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“And the S-E-X was great?”

The blush deepens, Solana low key grateful for Kayden censoring herself. “Y–yes.”

“And he already knows about my goddaughter and is cool with her? And the nigga rich, too?” She slaps her hand over her mouth, making an ‘I’m sorry’ expression before finishing. “You better not cancel. Just go and see how it goes. Maybe the vibes are off, or maybe you’ve found Raya her new daddy.”

Solana is the one to scoff, laying back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. “Yeah right.”

One

Solana only has a single regret when it comes to her baby girl, and it’s simply that Raya was not blessed with a father.

An actual father who wanted to be in her life.

If only.

Roman could never be or even want to be that. Of that, she’s sure. He’s rich, handsome, and childless. Why would he ever want to take on the responsibility of a child he didn’t make?

She can fully understand that and doesn’t fault him for it, either.

Can only give him a tremendous amount of credit for being open to seeing where things go with them while just acknowledging that Raya comes first in everything.

He truly seemed fine with it when he took her home and they discussed it just earlier in the week, and he’s seemed fine in all of the text exchanges they’ve had since.

She just….she just needs to, like he said, see where this goes.

If anywhere.

—-----------

Having a best friend like Kayden is useful for so many reasons, including when it comes to situations like this where Solana feels overwhelmed and out of her league.

The two of them, three including Raya who’s being held by her godmother, currently sit outside on the steps of Solana's apartment complex waiting for Roman who’d texted about ten minutes ago that he was on his way.

Ten minutes that have been filled with anxiety and a back and forth dialogue playing out in Solana’s head.

Blowing out a breath, she finds herself seeking reassurance once more. “Are you sure this is a good id—”

“Ladies.”

An instant scowl that’s shared across three sets of faces, including Raya’s.

Solana is almost wishing they’d opted for staying inside her place versus sitting and waiting outside. She should have known it was too risky, too big of a chance of running into the very man standing before her.

Carmelo Hayes. Resident Casanova. A handsome, attractive man, all things considered, compared to some other unfortunate men she’s come across. But, the attraction is dead as soon as he opens his mouth revealing that no one loves Carmelo Hayes as much as Carmelo loves Carmelo Hayes.

He slides his sunglasses down, shooting Solana a wink. “Neighbor.” And then a reluctant glance at Kayden, followed by a lazy murmur of her name and a wide, yet awkward smile to Raya. “Sup, lil bit.”

As she does with most interactions regarding the man, Raya’s scowl deepens as she turns her face into Kayden’s chest.

Kayden snorts, not trying to hide her telling comment, “smart kid.”

Clearing her throat, Solana does her best with the pleasantries. “Hi, Carmelo.”

“What ya’ll sitting out here for?” He leans against the wall, eyes briefly falling to Solana’s chest. “Your car still broke?”

“Is your hairline still uneven?”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Ursula.”

“It is,” Solana cuts in, not in the mood for their back and forth. One drunken night between her best friend and her neighbor that ended in a verbal assault from and on both sides, and these two haven’t seen eye to eye since. A forever feud that’s destined to last the test of time, given the fact it literally happened when they were all still in high school.

Because, of course, the “pretty boy” from high school who never looked her way would one day, someday end up being her neighbor.

Life is just ironic like that.

He makes a sound, offering, “you know I could fix it up for you.”

She has no doubt. Solana has heard that Carmelo, "Melo," is pretty good at what he does at the local car shop, his mechanic work known as some of the best in town. But, she also knows it wouldn't come without an expectation. She knows that his offer definitely involves going through his job for compensation, maybe using his employee discount, and definitely requiring a date to top it all off.

And when hell freezes over will she ever go out with this man. Even if he wasn’t under the impression that he’s God’s gift to women, Raya has never seemed to take to him, her little mouth either shifting to a frown or a scowl. Nothing else.

And her daughter’s response to people in her life, especially men, will always be the number one indicator for who she lets around them.

“I’m working on it,” is all Solana supplies, shifting on the steps as she sees Kayden switch Raya from one hip to another.

Carmelo, forever dedicated, is undeterred by the soft rejection. “Come on, I know you gotta be tired of riding that raggedy ass bus with lil' mama.”

Very much so, but given her options, it’s definitely the better of them. “It gives us more time to bond.”

Because it does. Because holding her baby girl while on the way to work or to drop her off at her mom’s is a sort of one-on-one time that Solana appreciates. Will give the bus credit for that much, at least.

“Why can’t you just take no for an answer?”

“Why can’t you grow your own hair?” Melo sneers. “Been rocking them locs since we was teenagers. It’s time to let shit go.”

“Why can’t you grow a bigger dick?” Kayden counters. Solana’s eyes widen as she focuses on her daughter, oblivious to the inappropriate things being stated but still exposed, nonetheless. “Been bragging about that Vienna sausage since we was kids. Accept you a micro-man, and keep it pushing.”

“Guys,” Solana sighs. Yeah….definitely should have stayed inside. “Please—”

Solana is distracted by the moment her eyes land on a sleek, shiny, black SUV pulling up to the front of the building where they’re all sitting. A fucking Range Rover. Most likely the most expensive thing to ever grace her regular shmegular apartment complex.

And the mesmerized staring continues as the car pulls up in front of the group of them, Solana already knowing who’s about to get out before he does. But even that knowing can’t stop the way her stomach fills with butterflies seeing him step out the car that costs more than some houses.

Butterflies that only intensify when her eyes land on him, an almost slow motion type of experience as he circles around the front of the car, dressed in dark jeans, a dark jacket draped over, of course, a dark shirt. Black sunglasses that he slides up atop his head, revealing warm brown eyes that are focused on her, only to harden when he shifts focus to Melo.

Solana is thoroughly aware of the shift in mood, seeing how Melo straightens his posture, as if that makes a difference. Roman is huge and towers over all of them, Melo included.

Moving off the steps, Solana walks over to Roman, smile growing as she looks up at him. “Hey.”

Her voice seems to break Roman from his unspoken stand-off with Carmelo. Solana does her best to remain calm as he bends down and kisses her. Nothing intense, nothing long, but enough to have her craving his soft lips on hers once more when he pulls away with a small smirk. “Hey, baby.”

Her eyes widen.

Baby.

Lord Jesus, be a fence.

A part of her is unsure if he says it just to fuck with Melo. Another part doesn’t care regardless because being called as such from him, with that deep voice, is enough to have those butterflies fluttering all over.

Kayden clearing her voice drags Solana back down to reality as she focuses on her best friend and daughter. “This is my best friend and Raya’s godmother, Kayden.” Kayden steps closer to avoid Roman having to move, holding Raya with one arm as she offers her hand. Roman introduces himself, followed by his gaze shifting to Raya. “And you already know this one.”

“I do,” he chuckles, eyes softening a bit. “Hi, Raya.”

Raya’s response to Roman is night and day from her response to Melo. She still has her face in Kayden’s chest, but she’s not turned away from the man before her. She’s looking at him with a smile, eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Kayden snorts, loudly exclaiming, “looks like it’s just you, Hayes, that baby Raya doesn’t fuck with.”

“Kayden.”

Roman turns back to Melo with an uninterested expression that contrasts his question. “Who are you?”

“The annoying, irrelevant neighbor.”

Solana feels stressed already, and the outing hasn’t even begun. “Kayden, please.”

“Carmelo Hayes,” he responds, subtly—or not so subtly—rolling his shoulders. “Been knowing them since high school.”

Solana frowns. What is he trying to imply? Certainly not friendship. Carmelo is many things, but someone she considers a friend is not one of them.

“He lives on the first floor,” Solana provides, hoping it’s an indirect but efficient way to clarify his role, per se.

Roman makes a sound, that smirk returning as he rolls his eyes at the shorter man. Focused on her, he asks, “ya’ll ready?”

Solana nods, suddenly appreciative of the opportunity to get out of this situation. She gestures to the car seat sitting on the steps. “Yeah, let me just get this set up.”

Roman moves to open the backdoor as Solana grabs the car seat, securing it in the backseat of one of the nicest cars she’s ever seen, briefly stunned by the screens on the back of the passenger and driver headrest.

“Damn….” Shaking her head, Solana gives a tug on the car seat, ensuring it’s ready before walking over to Kayden. “Come here, baby girl.” Raya is all the willing and wanting as she reaches over, giggling when Solana holds her and kisses her cheek. “Time to go for a ride.”

Raya makes an incoherent sound of excitement as Solana starts to buckle her in, Kayden right by her, speaking in a low voice, “girl, you didn’t say he was that damn fine.” Solana bites down on her bottom lip, watching how Raya also looks around the sleek black and red interior with all the amazement. “Marry him.”

Solana has to roll her eyes at that.

Like that would ever happen.

“Give me her bag,” she requests, Kayden handing over Soraya’s diaper bag. Placing it on the floor in front of Raya, Solana smiles, “ready to go?” Raya claps and wiggles her little legs, making both women laugh.

Turning toward Roman, Kayden playfully elbowing her side, Solana shares. “Ready.”

Roman nods, sliding his sunglasses back down, speaking to Kayden first. “It was nice meeting you.” He moves over to the passenger door, opening it for Solana. She carefully closes Raya’s door, holding back a smile when Kayden makes a sound.

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” Kayden responds in that knowing tone, while Solana slides into the seat. Roman makes sure she’s all the way in before closing the door. Out the window, Solana catches the haughty smirk Roman directs toward Melo before circling the front of the car and climbing in.

Solana jumps when Kayden taps on the window. It takes a minute for her to figure out how to roll down the window, but when she does, it’s instant regret. “Just so you know, I have her location as well as a tracker on baby girl’s clothes. Try to kidnap either of them, and I’ll have the FBI on your doorstep before the 6 o’clock news even has a chance to run the story.”

“Kayden!”

While Solana is filled with embarrassment, Roman seems only amused. “Noted,” is all he states before adding, “I’ll have them back at a decent time.”

“What is your definition of decent?”

“Oh my gosh,” Solana scrambles to find the button again, starting to roll up the window. “Goodbye, Kayden.”

Roman only continues to look amused as he asks, right after Kayden calls out another goodbye, “you good?”

“Yeah,” she answers, putting on her seatbelt.

Gaze back on him, she sees him glance at Raya through the rearview mirror. “You want to put something on for her?”

It takes a second for Solana to realize he’s referring to the screens in the backseat. “No, she’s fine. She loves car rides, so all you have to do is start driving, and she’ll be entertained.” A true blessing, as Solana is well aware many babies don’t do well in the car. Not Raya. Raya could spend the rest of her little life riding in a car and be just as content.

“Got it,” he chuckles, starting the car and starting to pull out of the parking lot. “You look good.”

A compliment that has her cheeks tinged pink. “Thanks.” Shifting in her seat, she shares, “I didn’t really—I didn’t really know what to wear.”

Because it’s a date, sure, but it’s a non-traditional date. A sexy dress would be too much, and jeans would be not enough. Thus, her settling on a normal dress, covered with a cardigan and some sandals.

Roman takes his eyes off the road only for a second to give her a quick one over. “You chose well.” The pink deepens as she contemplates returning the compliment when he speaks again, “we gotta stop at the mall before the grocery store. Macy’s, apparently.”

Solana is rightfully confused. “Oh. W–why?”

“Gonna be honest with you, I’m not much of a cook. At all. So, it was only this morning I realized I don’t have any pots and shit for you to cook with. I asked my cousin’s wife where to get that stuff, and she suggested Macy’s.”

His explanation both does and doesn’t make sense. “Roman, you don’t have to go buy anything. I could have just brought some of my pots and pans over.” That would be significantly easier and make a lot more sense, considering it sounds like this man has zero desire to use said pots and pans after today. “Plus, pots can be….expensive.”

Especially at a department store like Macy’s.

At that, he reaches his hand over, placing it on her thigh, giving a light squeeze. “Money is never an issue.” She swallows, partially distracted by his big hand on her leg. It’s such an innocent thing that shouldn’t affect her as much as it does. “Not when you’re with me.”

With him.

She’s not with him though. Not…..not in the traditional sense.

He doesn’t seem to be acting like that though.

“But—”

“Relax.” The deep timbre of his voice is insanely soothing, conjoined with his thumb moving across the material of her dress. “I’ve got this.”

He certainly does, it seems.

—-------

A part of Solana wishes that Roman had given her a heads up about the extra stop, because she might have taken Raya’s stroller. Truthfully, her baby girl is kind of on the smaller side, weighing just about 15lbs, so it’s no issue to carry her around the store. It’s just the wiggly phase Raya is in that has her having to continue to hold Raya’s tiny stuffy, using it to entertain her at times.

Thankfully, Roman is very much to the point, easily asking a sales associate where the cookware is. He walks them over to said section, finding yet another associate—he seems to be good at seeking people out—asking for the “best” set of pots they sell. And at that, Solana’s eyes widen.

“Roman,” she whispers harshly, Raya pulling at the top of her dress, something that seems to put a small smile on his face. “Do you—do you have any idea how expensive a pot collection can be?”

He shrugs, answering calmly as they follow the associate through the section. “No. Don’t care either.”

That only widens her eyes even more. “We’re talking potentially thousands of dollars.”

Again, this man looks so unbothered. “And?” He stops, turning to her with a focused gaze. “Solana, I don’t think you understand how ri—”

“Mama!”

Raya’s interjection pulls the focus from the topic of expensive ass pots and pans to a kids toy someone clearly placed down after deciding to not get it. A musical, interactive teddy bear with floppy pink ears and clothes that’s clearly captured Raya’s attention.

Solana has to hold her daughter a bit tighter as she starts wiggling and whining in an attempt to grab the toy.

“Raya, no,” she scolds lightly, switching her to the other arm to widen the distance. Raya is irritated by that, whining yet again as she pushes on Solana’s chest. “I said no, Mija.”

“No!” She shouts back one of the few words she knows, an expression that makes Roman move to grab the toy, holding it in front of her.

“This what you want?” He asks, smile returning yet again. Raya’s scowl shifts to a wide grin as she grabs for the toy, squeezing the hand which causes kids instrumental music to play. Raya is suddenly a clapping, giggling child, making Solana feel slightly bad as she says to Roman in a low but firm voice.

“Roman, no. I don’t even know how much it is,” Solana argues, very well aware that the price really doesn’t matter, because she truly does not have any extra money to splurge on a toy. On anything, really. Every single dollar is spoken for.

“Doesn’t matter.” Roman shrugs, supplying, “she wants it, so I’ll get it for her.”

Solana’s stomach drops. “Roman, you don’t have to do—”

“Solana, it’s fine. It’s a kid’s toy. Not a big deal,” he says it so casually, taking her by surprise yet again as he starts to pry the stuffy from out of the box, ensuring none of the tiny plastic things are on said stuffed animal. He hands it back to Raya who doesn’t hesitate to grab it, Solana using her hand to help hold it up as a babbling Raya is fully immersed in her latest toy.

His gaze lingers on Soraya with a hint of curiosity and a lot of amusement before he grabs the box and finds where the associate has been silently waiting and watching the whole exchange.

Solana is still trying to process said exchange, still trying to grasp how easily and kindly Roman just acquiesced to the most random of things. But beyond that, how he’s gone along with everything so….easily. No irritation or frustration at having a baby tag along with them, a baby he plans to buy a toy for just because she was getting fussy at not having it.

And now he’s following the associate who’s carrying a box of Viking pots. Solana moves over to him, trying to not think too much into his kindness. “Roman, Viking is an expensive brand.”

“I asked for the best, because that’s what I get. I get what I am, Solana,” he answers. Solana gasps a little when he walks past her, slapping her ass in the process. “Come on.”

Still flustered by it all, she follows wordlessly as he guides them to the register where she learns the damn toy that Raya continues to interact with is freaking $34.00. She’s never paid that much for a toy.

But, that $34.00 is nominal compared to the $3,340.00 that pops up when the 12 piece set of pots are scanned.

“Oh my God.” Her anxiety is spiked at just the thought of Roman dropping that kind of money. Meanwhile, he’s already pulling out his wallet at the total that’s close to $3.700.00. “Roman, please, you don’t—”

He ignores her, handing over his black card without a care in the world, as she tries to not have a panic attack in the middle of this department store.

How rich is this man?

Not even in her dreams can she imagine dropping so much on something that’ll only be used once. Maybe he’ll return them afterwards?

For some reason, though, Roman doesn’t strike her as that type of man. The type to purchase and return before the credit card statement balance updates.

If he even checks that.

“Thank you,” he says, taking the large bag that contains the box of pots as well as the now empty box that Raya’s stuffed animal was in. He looks between mother and daughter, asking, “ready?”

Solana is still silenced by the opulent display before her, only able to nod. Roman stops, however, suddenly turning to her to ask, “what are you going to do with her while you cook?”

That’s an easy answer. “I’m just gonna hold her.”

He looks perplexed. “While you cook?”

Now, it’s Solana’s turn to chuckle. “I’m a single mom, Roman. Multitasking is all I do.”

Because it is. Because she’s more or less mastered the art of holding her daughter while completing a variety of tasks, especially cooking.

If only that worked for the man before her. “Naw.” He shakes his head, motioning for her to follow him in the direction they just came from.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Roman doesn’t answer her, just walks up to the same associate who checked them out and issues a question.

“Where’s the baby section?”

“Roman!”

Her voice is louder than she anticipated but enough to get him to offer a plain explanation. “We’ll just pick up a couple things. Enough so you don’t have to hold her the whole time.” Solana opens her mouth to protest, to explain that what’s not a big deal is her just keeping Raya on her hip. But, he’s already following the associate, thus leaving her rushing to catch up with him.

Realizing Roman is a man who doesn’t seem to take no for an answer when his mind is made up, Solana aims for some level of compromise, pleading, “not a lot, okay?”

His smile is genuine but his eyes twinkle with mischief. "Okay. Not a lot."

—---------

Turns out rich people have very different definitions of “a lot” compared to the rest of society.

Thousands.

By the time they finish not only at Macy’s but the grocery store, Roman has spent close to $4,000.00 dollars. $4,000.00 on a variety of items, many of which are unnecessary, a lot of which are for Raya.

Random toys, a play mat, a high chair, a floor seat, a baby lounger and toys that Raya most certainly doesn’t need, as she has all of that back in Solana’s apartment. Something Solana does her best to explain to Roman, but it seems it goes in one ear and out the other.

A mixture of several emotions, Solana isn’t sure what to make of Roman’s financial kindness and generosity. A part of her wonders if he’s expecting something in return, something she’s not opposed to, per se, but would like to be because they just desire each other in that way versus him using sex as payment.

Though something tells her Roman isn’t that type. Because someone who looks and even fucks like him could get any woman he wanted. She has no doubt about that. He doesn’t need to try to bribe someone like her, a single mother, for sex.

He can get that without even trying from quite literally anyone else.

Thus, that leaves her with the belief that this man might be one of the kindest she’s ever encountered.

And that, she also doesn’t know what to make of.

Walking back into the spacious living room after changing Raya in one of Roman’s bathroom, a bathroom that’s about what and what with her actual apartment, she finds him lounged on the sofa. He’s got one arm resting atop the sofa, phone in the other hand as he focuses on the screen.

Solana quietly steps in, moving to the floor, close to the sofa where he’s lounging but needing to be close to Raya who seems to want to explore every single bit of the massive penthouse despite the makeshift playroom that is Roman’s living room from all the stuff he got her.

Roman is quick to lock his phone, tossing it beside him as he compliments, “dinner was delicious. You can cook your ass off.”

Briefly tearing her eyes from Raya, Solana looks down and pushes some hair behind her ear. “Thank you.” Clearing her throat and pleased to see Raya crawl over to the play may where she starts hitting at the dangling toys, Solana looks back over at Roman and shares, “I love to cook.”

“I can tell.” His gaze is focused solely on her, an intimidating thing in some ways. “How’d you learn?”

“My mom,” she smiles, reflecting and elaborating. “My mom loves to cook too, so it’s just something she taught me and my sister.” Leaning back into the sofa and angling her body more towards him, she adds, “and my Uncle Booker, too. He owns a restaurant out in Georgia, and I’d visit him sometimes during the summer when I was younger, so he taught me how to make soul food, and my mom taught me how to make Mexican food.” The best of both worlds, in many ways. “You really don’t know how to cook? Like, at all?”

“I can do some things,” he says with a shrug. Solana makes a face, prompting him to ask, “what?”

Biting on her lip to hold back an amused smile, she points out, “it didn’t seem like it.” Roman rolls his eyes as she pulls up receipts. “Roman, you couldn’t even crack the eggs.”

“That’s cause they’re too damn small. I have big hands.” She giggles at the almost petulant scowl on his handsome face. “Besides, I have people who do that for me.”

“Cook?”

“Yeah.”

She nods, remembering him mentioning his private chef. Must be nice. “Well, I don’t cook as much as I’d like to, but you’re always welcome to join us for dinner when I do, though I might have to make a bigger portion size.” Because the man has the appetite of a group of middle school boys. Granted, with someone his size, he must have to eat a lot to keep in shape.

A perfect shape.

“Why don’t you?”

“Cook more?”

“Yeah.”

A lot of reasons, only some of which she feels like sharing. “I’m just so busy.” She gestures to Raya who is now holding onto the stuffed bunny that was the first of many purchases by Roman for her. “And this one doesn’t eat much of it anyway, couple on how expensive groceries are, it’s just not worth it, ya know?”

He nods. “Well, you can come over here and cook for me anytime.” She smiles, as his simmering gaze intensifies on her. “Or just come over, period.”

Solana’s voice lowers, her tone slightly teasing. “A foodless visit?”

“I love the food.” Their eyes lock. “But, I like you more.” And the heavens are on her side, because before she can freak out at such a bold statement, overthink what his actions continue to indicate, he changes the subject a bit. “But, I gotta ask…..the neighbor?”

“Carmelo?” Solana can’t even hide the disgust in her face at just the thought of that man. “Absolutely not. Never.” Raya wobbles over to her, Solana pulling her baby girl against her as Raya starts to reach over for yet another toy. “He’s just…..he doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.”

It’s not missed upon Solana how Roman’s disposition shifts into something more serious. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs, gently caressing Raya’s back. “He’s asked me out, directly and indirectly, over the past couple months, and it seems all of my creative ways of telling him no don’t seem to register.” Solana rolls her eyes and shakes her head, adding, “it’s fine though. He’s harmless. Just egotistical.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, but Solana can see it. Can see the wheels in his head turning. “I’m sure he’ll get the hint soon enough.”

If only. “Maybe.” She scoffs, Raya showing and babbling about the toy in her hand. Solana smiles softly, speaking to Roman while watching her daughter. “It’s ironic. He never paid me any attention when we were in high school, and I was on the dance team, so we would travel together sometimes with the basketball team. Never looked twice at me. Now, I’m 26 with a baby, and he won’t leave me alone.”

Something flashes in Roman’s eyes that seems to contrast with the curious nature of his question. “You were a dancer?”

She nods. “Since I was six.”

Roman tilts his head, asking, “do you still do it?”

And, he notices instantly the shift in her demeanor. The way her gaze shifts downward, almost awkwardly. “No,” she finally answers, voice almost sad and distant “Not….not anymore.”

Right away, Roman can sense it, see that there’s a story there. A story that wields some level of hurt and pain. It makes him almost regret even asking anything in the first place.

Solana suddenly gasps and asks, “shit, what time is it?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, pulling out her phone to see the time that reads quarter to 7. “I forgot, I have to make a business call.” She bites on her lip, gaze moving to Raya and then back at him. “Can you watch her right quick? It won’t take long. I prom—”

“Solana, it’s fine,” he assures, nodding in the direction of the terrace. “You can take it out there if you’d like.”

She seems appreciative of both his agreement as well as the offer for privacy. “Thank you.” Solana climbs to her feet, Raya’s little eyes moving to her mom, as she shares, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Raya doesn’t say anything, just watches Solana walk out of the living room and onto the terrace. It’s only when the doors shut and she’s out of Raya’s view that the baby starts to make noise. “Mama….” It’s a soft exclamation, conjoined with her climbing onto her feet and starting to slowly waddle in that direction.

“Hey,” Roman moves to the edge of the couch, ready to block her path, if need be. “She’s coming back, okay?”

He’s unsure if his words actually provide any sort of comfort or a type of distraction, because Raya is suddenly moving over to grab a book on the floor that came with one of the toys he got her.

His eyes are glued to her, recognizing in being around her for the day how mobile she can be. A normal, expected thing, according to Solana.

Book still in hand, Raya waddles her way over to him, offering said book. “Is that for me?” She makes a loud sound that makes him smile a bit. “Thank you.”

She smiles loud and proud, suddenly looking up at him and reaching her arms up, her next request unmistaken.

Roman tenses a bit, suddenly unsure of himself. For the most part, interactions with Solana’s daughter have been easy, because it’s quite simple to see a kid’s face light up at an item, only for that light to intensify when they receive said item. It was mostly Solana who engaged with her as she sat in the high chair he’d picked up from Macy’s while they (mostly Solana) cooked. And even as she’d made his living room a bit of a playroom, that was mostly just a lot of watching to make sure she didn’t get anything, from both himself and Solana.

However, this is the first time such direct interaction would occur, and he’s mostly taken back how Raya is the one initiating and asking for it.

He’s clearly taking too long, Raya starting to babble and scowl, one little hand hitting his leg. He gives her a look that brings the smile back and has her reaching once more.

Roman chuckles. The kids is definitely determined, that’s for certain.

Pushing against the lingering discomfort, he yields. “Alright.” Roman moves the book to the other side of him and leans down to pick her up, settling her down on one of his thighs. “Better?”

Her answer is another loud sound that’s a mixture of a giggle and shout. It makes his smile widen ever so slightly. Roman’s only experience with kids has been Jey’s wild bunch of offspring and Aniyah, Jimmy and Naomi’s lil comedian of a daughter. But even with that minimal experience, there’s something different about Raya.

She is every bit her mother’s daughter, the spitting image of Solana, but beyond that, she has her mother’s softness and kindness about her. Even at such a young age, her aura is warm and welcoming.

It’s…..different.

Soraya is shifting on his lap, her little head turning until she spots the book and reaches for it.

Roman helps her out, handing it to her, continuing to watch and study how her eyes focus on the book as little fingers pry it open to a random page. She’s then pointing and “talking,” looking up at him.

“What is that?” Roman also points to the drawing, explaining to her, “that’s a dog.” He jumps a bit as she makes another loud sound for no reason. This time, he laughs a little as well. She has so much personality for such a young child. “You like dogs?” No response this time as she tires of said page and starts moving to the rest of them, easily growing bored, eventually knocking the book to the floor.

Roman sucks his teeth, playfully chastising her, “why you gotta be throwing stuff, huh?” Raya’s response is a loud yawn as she looks around, shifting once more on his lap. He moves his hand to her back, providing an extra layer of security as she stands up on his lap. He tenses yet again as she extends her arms, as if reaching and trying to hug him, clearly wanting to be held.

Another moment of uncertainty, because damn, Roman has never felt so out of his league and unsure of himself. Raya sitting on his lap, wanting to sit on his lap is one thing, but her wanting to be traditionally held is another.

It’s been years since he’s held a baby. And while Raya is not a baby baby, she’s still a tiny little thing.

But, it’s when she starts to whine against him that Roman feels almost compelled to comply, moving both arms around her as her little arms go around his neck, her face on his shoulder.

What the fuck?

He’s the last person in the world he’d expect any child to gravitate towards, but this little girl….the way she yawns once more against him and feels so….at ease in his arms…..he doesn’t know what to make of it.

What to make of any of it.

Just knows that he can feel the discomfort on him melting away at the same time he feels the subtle rise and fall of her chest against him.

Almost….almost peaceful.

The sound of footsteps alerts him to Solana’s return. She looks flustered and stressed, but it shifts into an almost look of guilt, as she starts apologizing, “oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he answers, honestly.

Solana moves over and crouches down in front of them. “She must be getting sleepy. She likes to be held when she’s tired.” Solana is careful in the way she takes Raya into her arms, murmuring something in Spanish and kissing her temple. Gaze back to Roman, she says, almost sadly, “I should get her back home….”

Her statement breaks Roman from this strange mental space finds himself in. Shaking his head, he clears his throat, “yeah, of course.”

Solana offers a small smile, looking around the room. “I can lay her down for a few minutes to clean—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismisses. “I can do it when I get back.”

“Roman, no, I can’t just leave this here—”

“Solana, it’s fine,” he interrupts, explaining as she straightens up and he stands from the sofa. He can just move most of the items into one of his guest rooms, but not everything. Roman already knows a couple of the toys Raya would probably want to have at home, especially the teddy bear.

He noticed she seemed to really like that one the most of them all.

“Okay,” Solana finally agrees with a defeated sigh, eyes shifting a bit as she stammers, “do you….do you have something to do later?”

Roman looks at her with a quizzical expression. “No. Why?”

Obvious hesitation, as she nervously licks her lips. “It….it only takes me about half an hour to get her down for bed, so if you want to stick around so we can…..talk, we—we can do that.”

His smirk is unavoidable, Roman already feeling a tightening in his pants at the visual of them talking.

Warm gaze raking in over her body, imagining her naked and wanton on top of him, his reply is an easy one. “We can talk all night, if you want.”

—---------

As Roman sits on the sofa in Solana’s apartment, waiting for her to get Raya down for bed, he finds himself catching up on some work shit that’s transpired while he was spending the day with the mother and daughter duo.

Nothing serious. Nothing his sister and Wise Man couldn’t handle for the time being, though she loathed the vague answer he gave her when she asked why he’d been MIA all day. Not surprising.

Rosalia has always disliked being kept out of the loop.

A necessity though, as Roman wants to keep Solana as far away from that as long as possible.

Raya, too, for that matter.

And in thinking about keeping people away, Roman finds himself sending out a text to one of his good, longtime friends and hitman.

Roman: Carmelo Hayes. Spring Hills apartments. Building 2.

Dean Ambrose: Yo. What ya wanting done?

What Roman wants and what he can realistically have done right now are two different things, because what he’d like is to find this bastard’s apartment himself and be the one to see to it that he never bothers Solana again.

Ever.

Or anyone, for that matter.

But, that’s too risky, too soon. He, himself, can’t make such a bold move.

Not yet, anyway.

So, he’ll have to settle for a simple, or not so simple, beating.

Roman: Fuck him up. Don’t kill him, but something close.

Dean Ambrose: You got it, dude.

Roman chuckles, imagining the childlike excitement in Ambrose's eyes at the chance to act on his sadistic, violent impulses. A true treat for the eccentric man.

The next thing on his list is arranging to have a security detail patrolling Solana's apartment complex at all times. Another trailing her outings to work and elsewhere.

He won't take any risks regarding the safety of mother nor daughter.

Roman also utilizes the time to message his driver, informing him to be ready to come pick him up in two to three hours, because the Tribal Chief has every intention of leaving the keys to the Range Rover in Solana’s apartment.

She doesn’t need to be taking the damn bus. Especially not with Raya. It’s too dangerous.

He’d just pay to get her car repaired for her, but there’s something he likes better about her driving his car. A possessive thing, he might even admit. With good intentions, though.

Always.

“Hey.”

Solana pulls him from his thoughts as well as his focus on the phone in his hand. She’s standing before him with an almost nervous expression.

Roman sits forward, tossing his phone to the side. Beckoning her over with his finger, his eyes don’t leave her as she climbs onto his lap, dress raised as she straddles him. He needs a distraction from the fact that clothes are the only thing keeping that part of him from that part of her. “She sleep?”

Solana nods. “When she’s tired, she taps out pretty quickly.”

That makes sense, Roman thinks. Baby girl was almost entirely knocked out just in the few minutes he held her.

“Roman…..” Her hands move to the bottom of his shirt. “I really did enjoy today. It’s….it’s the nicest day I’ve had in a while.”

He agrees, wholeheartedly, but there’s something underneath said statement. “But?”

She closes her eyes, asking in a small voice. “How is this supposed to work?”

He doesn’t hesitate to seek clarification. “What do you mean?”

She takes a deep breath. “I’m okay with us having sex. I want that, but….it’s hard for me to understand you being so nice and generous to me, and even Raya, and not feel like the sex is….payment of some sort.” Eyes opening, she starts to shake her head, “because if that’s the case—”

“It’s not,” he cuts her off, tone almost hardened as he moves his hands up her back. “Everything I did for you today, for Raya, was because I wanted to. And not because I was expecting anything in return. I told you that before.”

“I wanna believe that, but….” She pushes back some of her hair, further explaining, “it’s just that most men don’t—”

“I’m not most men.” Not even in the slightest. In ways she could probably never fully understand. “But, I am very interested in you. I told you that before, too. That I wanted to see where this goes, and I don’t know about you, but so far, I think it’s going pretty damn well.”

Because, it is. There was something both relaxing and rewarding. Spending the day with her. Even Raya. All so simple and easy, and in a world where everything is usually anything but that for the Mafia Head, he appreciates it.

And doesn’t want to let go.

She doesn’t disagree with him, just continues to be honest. “I guess I also don’t want you to feel like….like I’m using you or something.”

At that, Roman chuckles and moves one hand to her cheek. “Solana, you looked physically sick the whole time we were shopping. You’re the last person I’d ever suspect that from.” Most women would have walked up and down that damn department store trying to get him to buy them any and everything they could get their hands on. Solana was the complete opposite.

Her intentions are pure.

Just like her.

A true unicorn in the life he’s always lived, most of which is why Roman is certain he finds himself so drawn to her.

“It was a lot of money, Roman,” she protests, weakly.

“To you,” he counters. “Solana, money is not something I’ve ever had to worry about and never will, but I recognize that’s not been the case for you.” He also gets the sense it’s a moderate problem for her right now, based upon the fact she can’t even afford to get her car repaired. “So, if you need something, you just have to ask.”

She looks uncomfortable, frowning almost, “Roman—”

“I get it may feel too soon, and I respect that. Just know the offer is there for you.” Roman can see it’ll take time for her to come around and accept his help, that he’ll have to ease his way into things, so he’ll wait for it. Wait for her to come to him when she’s ready. In the meantime, he’ll have to sprinkle little things along the way. “And we don’t have to do anything—”

“No,” she cuts him off, shaking her head and moving her hands up his chest. “I want to. I just…..I just needed to know where we stand and how this is going to work. That’s….that’s all.”

Roman sits up further, pressing her against him as he moves his thumb across her bottom lip. “I told you before, you’re mine. You need something, I got you. You want some dick, I definitely got you there.” Her eyes flutter shut, and Roman smirks feeling the way she’s shifting atop him. “And judging by the look on your face, that second thing is exactly what you wanting right now.”

Solana lays her head on his shoulder as he drops his hand from her face to her ass, squeezing her supple cheeks. “Please…..”

He makes a sound. “First, you gotta tell me when I can see you again.” Roman easily glides his hand from her ass to the side of her thigh, working his way past where the material of her dress is ruffled to the smoothness of her thick thigh. “A week is too damn long….” His mouth moves to her neck as she grasps at the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Roman, I—I work,” she breathes out, shifting once more as he sneaks his hand in between her legs, long fingers teasing her underwear. “Oh, shit.”

“I’m aware,” he chuckles, amused and also turned on by how she wiggles closer to him, eager for his fingers as they slide past the damp cotton of her panties. “And, I don’t care. We gotta figure something out.”

“Roman,” she moans, hands gripping his shoulders as he enters one digit inside her wet, tight cunt. “P–please.”

He works her with his fingers, his mouth sucking on her neck before he asks in the calmest voice, “you gonna let me see you more often?” Finalized with the entering of another digit as she bucks against his hand.

She’s practically in tears, crying out against him, nails pressed into his skin through his shirt. “Yes, fuck, whatever—whatever you want.”

Pleased with her agreement, Roman pulls his hand from her, chuckling when she whines against him. “You work tomorrow?”

His question as well as him stopping altogether have her pulled back and scowling. “No.” Moving once again on his lap, she's clearly feeling the growing erection underneath her. “Why–why’d you stop?”

The answer is simple. “Because I need a bed for everything I want to do to you, and I needed to know how much time I have.”

His answer has her swallowing as she shares in a small voice, “she….she usually sleeps through the night.”

Roman smiles. Music to his fucking ears.

Standing up, holding her up by her ass, he asks, “where’s your bedroom?”

At some point, he’ll have to issue a new text to his driver.

He won’t need them anytime soon.

Or at all, tonight.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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