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fancyfeathers · 5 months ago

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Burn It All Down

(Yandere!Justice League & Yandere!Young Justice)

Based on Yandere!Justice League with their darling!children AU

Chapter One, Songbirds and Snakes -> Next Chapter

This chapter is told from the perspective of Bruce Wayne's Daughter!Reader

(Author's Note- So this is a series I have been really looking forward to writing this series, this is a big passion project of mine and it took forever to figure out how to write this with all the darling characters, Each chapter will be the perspective of the reader but as the different children since when I originally had this concept they were all darling/reader characters. So this chapter will be written in the perspective of Batman's daughter, but the next chapter will be from a different darling's perspective. Anyway, enjoy and thanks for reading!)

This is also a somewhat sequel to my Always Prey But Never A Bird series, but you do not have to read that series to understand this one

You sat in a booth in an old diner, the type that you would find sandwiched between two apartment buildings on a street corner. It was practically empty around this time, a waitress and her friend who stopped by after what you presumed was a bad first date, the staff in the back, and you. You had a duffle bag with your clothes and suit, a pair of headphones, your cell phone and your charger, your motorcycle helmet, your keys, and a few hundred dollars in your back pocket, all crumbled up. You were a few hundred miles south of Star City, in Coast City now, everything was going so well in Star City, it was supposed to be a new start after Gotham, but now you were just back at square one, maybe even less than that. You were supposed to be Black Canary’s and Green Arrow’s partner, not their sidekick that they treated like a child, you were a grown adult before you even left Gotham. You finally had enough of the babying treatment and decided to leave while they were off somewhere on Justice League business, you did not know what they were doing because they never once told you.

“Is everything alright, Miss? You looked pretty stressed out.” The waitress's voice caught your attention and you turned your head away from the window to look at her, giving her a smile.

“Yes, sorry it’s just been a long day, I rode down from Star City.”

“Oh! That’s a long way, where are you headed?”

“No clue… I just needed to get away from there.” You watched as a look of concern crossed her face as you stood up from your seat in the booth, pulling your bag and helmet along with you. You set down a five-dollar bill on the table to pay for the cheap cup of coffee you bought and for her tip. “Thank you.” You walked towards the door, pushing it open but bumping shoulders with the person walking inside. You glanced up to mutter an apology, but you felt the person’s hand grab you by the wrist, giving you a slight feeling of panic. Your eyes narrowed at the person looking down at you, you knew who he was. “Mr. Jordan, did Oliver send you to talk to me?”

“Yes, but I’m not here for that.” The Green Lantern sighed, you definitely thought he looked tired, but you could not place the why. He glanced out to the sidewalk outside and gestured with his head. “Let’s talk outside, kid.”

“I’m not a kid…”

“Uh huh, from the last time I remember seeing you it was when you got into an argument with your brother when I stopped to visit your old man during an incident in Gotham.” He spoke in response to your mumble as he let go of your wrist and you were willing to follow him outside, but that event he used as reference was easily eight years ago if not more, you went walking down the street corner, just to where your motorcycle was parked, it seemed that he parked his own car just behind your bike, afterall he cannot always use the lantern ring for transportation. You watched him carefully as he leaned against the hood of his car, his fingers coming to pinch the bridge of his nose, stressed by something or other. “Look, there is no easy way to say this, but there has been a problem in the personal lives of the League members.”

“What sort of problem?”

“A problem like you.” You raised your eyebrow at his remark, a silent warning in case he was accusing you of being a problem. “Not you specifically but… okay just… I have two kids, they’re twins and they went missing recently, two days ago. Found the bathroom window open in the morning, screen kicked out.”

“They ran away?” He nodded in response to your question, you could feel his eyes on you, gauging your reaction to his words as the gears turned in your head. “Not going to lie, you never seemed the type to settle down, who’s their mom?”

“It doesn’t matter-”

“Is it a situation like my own parents?” You watched as he tensed up at your words, calling him out. Your parents had a less than healthy relationship, in other words, your mother was forced to be with your father with no way out. You heard of similar situations from the whispers said about Justice League members, you never expected them to be true, you thought them to be better than your father, but it seems, given what you have seen in Star City and what you were hearing now, they were not. You opened the storage pod on the back of your bike and dropped in your duffel bag. You glanced back at the Green Lantern, narrowing your eyes at him. “Ya, I’m out.”

“Wait, please listen.” He reached out as you swung your left leg over your bike, setting his hand on top of your own as they rested on the handlebars of your motorcycle, giving you a clear view of his lantern ring. “It’s not just my kids, from what I’ve heard a few others have gone missing as-”

“You mean they ran away, there is a difference.” You rolled your eyes, pulling your hand away from his. You reached into the pocket of your leather jacket, pulling out a worn, small, hardback journal, a gift from your ex-boyfriend who was another reason you ditched Gotham, along with a pen. “Who’s kids are missing, I’m assuming you came to me because they could have powers and that’s a danger? Or did you want me to ask them to come back? Cause the second isn’t gonna happen.”

“It’s the first, my own two don’t, but some of the others might.” You clicked your pen, looking up at him expectantly, waiting for him to list off their names or at least who their parents were. “Superman, Wonder Woman-”

“Wonder Woman has a kid?”

“They’re adopted, I think- anyway, Flash, Aquaman, Martian Manhunter, again adopted, Green Arrow-”

“Wait-”

“They left home before you showed up from what I’m told.” His words made you think, were you just a replacement for that missing hole? You pushed down your thoughts, continuing to write down the names as he continued to speak. “Then there are my own kids… and two special cases.”

“Special cases?”

“You, since you were the first to disappear five years ago, but at that point you were eighteen.”

“Who is the other?”

“Giovanni Zatara’s kid, pretty similar to you agewise, but he left home after his dad… you heard the story right?”

“Ya, I heard about Zatara becoming Doctor Fate’s host… not an easy thing to talk about, is it?”

“It is.” He took a heavy breath in and out, shocking his hands into the pockets of his old air force jacket. “Look, just keep an eye out for them, the League will bring them home but-”

“I will do what I want to, I don’t need to remind you that I don’t answer to anyone, especially the Justice League.” You reach where you set your helmet between your legs on the seat of your motorcycle, picking it up and putting it over your head, the visor keeping the Green Lantern from making eye contact with you. “If the rest of the League are like you and my father, then I think they have every valid reason to leave home.” With that you kicked off your bike as the engine started up. “See ya, Lantern.”

“You are late, Hal.” The voice of Black Canary spoke up as the Green Lantern stepped through the Zeta-Tube that connected to the Justice League’s Watchtower. “Did something happen? Need to talk about it?”

“Ya… I met up with Songbird, she was stopped in Coast City-”

“Is she okay? She’s safe, right?”

“She’s fine, a little pissy but fine.” The Green Lantern responded to the worried questioning of Black Canary, which also turned heads of the others who were also standing by the Zeta-Tube entrance instead of waiting in the meeting hall, namely Doctor Fate, the Batman, and Guy Gardener. “Think she is going to head off to the East Coast after this.”

“No, she’ll be staying in the central states.” The voice of Batman spoke up, making everyone turn their heads towards the man covered in all black. “She wouldn’t go anywhere near Gotham, she is stubborn and isn’t one to let go of grudges.”

“We can send Barry to check up on her-”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Hal responded as he began to walk, or rather float alongside Black Canary. “She made it clear to me that she wants nothing to do with the League-”

“Her father is in the League-”

“She has refused to be associated with him, and I don’t think she is one to piss off right now. Just give her space, I think she needs it right now.”

“Knowing my daughter, when she is given space she is going to cause a lot of trouble.”

You were stopped on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere Arizona, you think you were somewhere about fifty miles from Flagstaff, but it was hard to tell since you had your phone all the way turned off to keep someone from tracking you. You had picked up a paper map at one of the rest stops, trying to figure out a way to get up north, preferably a city with a international airport so you could have choices of where to go next, after all you did have your brand new passport on you along with contact information of one of your old sponsor from when you where a vigilante in Gotham, he would wire you money if you needed it for a ticket or supplies. Right now you were having serious problems with reading this map, you didn’t need a map like this back in Gotham or Star City, and you never legally learned how to drive or ride a motorcycle, just another thing on the long list of things your father kept you from doing.

“Fuck this.” You groaned, finally fed up with trying to figure this map out, you reached into your leather jacket’s pocket and pulled out your phone, powering it on with a long press of the power button. When the screen lit up, you found a long list of missed calls and unread texts from Dinah and Oliver. You rolled your eyes, pulling up the maps app on your phone, and you were indeed in the middle of nowhere. You rolled your eyes, turning your phone back off and shoving everything back into your pockets, your phone and the folded up map. But right as you remounted your bike and were about to slip on your helmet you felt the phone ring in your pocket, you groaned and pulled it out, expecting it to be Oliver or Dinah trying to call you again, but instead it was an unknown number, you slid the green pick up button with your finger and brought the phone to your ear. “Hello, who is this?”

“A friend of a friend.” You did not like the tone of voice you heard the caller use, you could say it was a man and the voice sounded roughly familiar, but it must have been such a long time since you heard it that you could not quite place who it was supposed to be. “Sorry, that sounded threatening, I am a business partner of Mark Austen, I believe you two were close acquaintances when you lived in Gotham, he was a sponsor of yours, yes?”

“He was… I’m sorry but who is this and how did you get my number?”

“You should know that the second part of that question is obvious given your level of intelligence.” You could practically hear the smugness in his voice, he obviously knew you were Songbird so that left your secret identity vulnerable if your suspicions of this person being potentially malicious turned out to be true. “I would like to have a meeting with you, Miss Wayne. Or at least some friends of mine would like to meet with you, don’t worry no one will be harmed and you can be on your way afterwards.”

“Pass, especially since I don’t know who you are and I certainly don’t know who your so called friends are-”

“Oh but you do, I believe the last time you saw them was just before you left Gotham.” Your brain immediately began piecing together the clues that were given to you, the secrecy is not something your father or siblings would have with you if they wanted to talk to you, they would have showed up by now, stalking their way into the shadows of whatever hotel room you were staying in, and then it could not be your ex fiance since he was far to in the limelight to need to have someone reach out on his behalf, besides there were no secrets between the two of you since you found who he really was, a member of the Court of Owls, no not just a member because he killed his mother to have full control of the court. With the other two options removed, that left one person.

“I am not meeting them, and I know who they are.” You growled on your end of the line, the venom and anger bubbling in your voice at the clear lines that were being crossed here. “I don’t know how you know Ra’s Al Ghul, but the last time I saw him, he was willing to kill me and bring me back to life just so he could take me out of Gotham with him and Talia-”

“I promise you that-”

“Fuck off, don’t call me again.” You hug up the phone, powering it down completely and tucking it into your pocket before you slide your helmet back on. You needed to scrap the phone soon, see if you could buy a burner until you could buy a new one safely. “God, I hate my life.”

It was a few days later when you arrived in Chicago, Illinois, you were going to rest for the night before calling up Mark Austen in the morning to inquire about funds and his mysterious business partner, and then hopefully you will be on a flight out of the country by the end of the week. You didn’t have much, so your duffle bag was thrown on the bed with your toiletries pulled out and on the hotel room’s bathroom counter, set there by you while showered off all the dust and dirt you got on you from your motorcycle, which you would probably have to drain out the oil and gas and disconnect the battery before you shipped it along with you to wherever your destination would be.

You stepped out of the hotel bathroom’s shower, drying off with one of those warm, fluffy, white towels they had provided for you before slipping on the white hotel robe that was provided for you along with the room. You felt something was wrong as you reached for the hairbrush from the counter. You unlocked the bathroom door before stepping into the hotel’s bedroom, it was dark with the lights out and the curtains drawn…

You had the curtains open before you went to take a shower, something was wrong, very wrong.

“Hello there, my lady.” You nearly screamed when you heard a voice you didn’t recognize speak up, you snapped your head around to see the frame of a woman lurking in the darkest corner of the room, even with your eyes adapted to the darkness, you could not figure out her face due to the hood and mask she wore, certainly a member of the League of Assassins or at least something similar. “It is an honor to meet the granddaughter of-”

“Ra’s Al Ghul is not my grandfather!” You shouted at the assassin, your mother had been taken in a relationship with Talia Al Ghul, and you were half siblings with her son, and since the master assassins have met you, they have always held some level of affection for you, whether you wanted it or not. “Leave, I don’t want anything to do with you or the League of Assassins-”

“I am not here on behalf of the League of Assassin, but rather on The Great One’s personal behalf along with a few of his… colleagues.” She took a step forward which made you take a step back. “There is a group that has invited you to join, The Great One thinks you would benefit greatly from-”

“Leave, I want with nothing to do with what Ra’s wants for me.” You reply, snapping back at the assassin. “I suggest you leave right now before I deal with you myself, do you understand?”

“My apologies, my lady…” The assassin spoke, and you watched as she walked past you towards the blind covered windows, you watched as she opened them to reveal that the hotel window was open, no doubt her point of entry. “If you change your mind, The Great One would be overjoyed to welcome you home.”

“Trust me I won’t.” You replied and you watched as she leaped from the window, disappearing from your vision. You sighed, moving to sit down on the bed, resting your head in your hands. You spotted that little notebook peeking out from your leather jacket’s pocket that was laying on the bed down next to you. You groaned, picking it up and flipping through the used pages until you reached that small list you had made, that list of names, of the parents of the missing- no, that was the wrong word, the runaway children…

Superman…

Wonder Woman…

Flash…

Aquaman…

Martian Manhunter…

Green Arrow…

Giovanni Zatara…

Green Lantern…

And you, the daughter of the Batman.

God, you hate it when you get ideas. You doubted that any of them wanted to go home, after all, you certainly did not and you ran away just like all the rest did. You took out your phone from your pocket and you began to type in the first name to start.

You have been to Paris once before, it was before your parents got married, when your mother took you on one of her business trips. You remember how much fun you had with her during that trip, on all of the trips you took with her. It has been so long since you took a trip anywhere with her, you never took trips anywhere after you moved to Gotham, and you just remember how depressed your mother got during those days, like the life and the light in her eyes were drained from her.

You pushed open the doors of the cafe, the Angelina Cafe, you remember when your mother took you here when you were little, coming to this place just for the hot chocolate. You were dressed in a nice pink wool coat and a short tea cup dress to match, it felt nice to wear something more formal for a change. You walked up to the hostess stand as the young lady standing behind it looked up at you with a smile as you spoke to her. “Je rejoins un ami, mademoiselle. Un jeune homme, il devrait être assis seul. L'avez-vous vu?”

“oui, il y avait un jeune homme qui est entré il y a quelques minutes, il est assis à la table dans le coin arrière gauche de la salle à manger.”

“Merci.” You gave her a small wave as you strutted across the floor into the dining room, and you spotted the young man she was talking about, sitting all alone in the back corner of the cafe. You walked up to his table and you confidently sat down across from him without being invited or saying a word, and the young man looked up at you with a look of heavy confusion. “You are the son of Giovanni Zatara, correct?”

“Yes… who are you? How do you know-”

“I am the daughter of Bruce Wayne, I think our situations are quite similar.”

“You mean…”

“With our parents, and I hate to say we are not the only ones.”

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sweetdispatch · 7 months ago

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We need to talk

pairing: Quinn Hughes x girlfriend!reader summary: Quinn and his girlfriend have a heart to heart conversation about what happened in the past two days warning: mentions of sex (nothing graphic), swear words

Part 1

When you woke up, Quinn wasn’t by your side, which was unusual because he loved to cuddle you in the morning, especially when he had a free day and didn't have to rush on training. You were laying in bed thinking about the past two days. You and Quinn had an argument. He used the card. You said a safeword. You two promised to talk about it in the morning.

You groaned at the thought of having a confrontation with Quinn. The last thing you wanted was to talk with him about it. You felt embarrassed that this stupid argument had a domino effect and now, you had to explain yourself. You started to wonder if there was even a point of giving him a cold shoulder. It was, you had full right to do it.

After 30 minutes, you decided to start the day and have the conversation behind you. You couldn’t be mad at Quinn forever. He deserved to hear your point of view and why it hurt you that much. You went into a closet to pick clothes for today and went into a bathroom. You stood in the shower longer than always, trying to collect all your thoughts of what you were planning to say to him.

You stepped out from the bathroom and took a deep breath before you left the bedroom. There was no turning back now. Immediately you went into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of mint tea. You tried to cut the coffee and you were drinking tea every morning. To your surprise, you saw an already prepared drink on the kitchen island in your favorite mug.

“I heard you going into the bathroom so I made you a tea so you don’t have to wait until it’s ready” You heard Quinn’ words and turned to see him sitting on the couch and reading a book.

“Thank you” You grabbed the cup and took a first sip.

“Also, I bought your favorite donuts. You have them on a plate next to the sink” You looked there and saw three chocolate donuts.

“You didn’t have to go to the bakery and buy them. I would eat something from the fridge”

“But I wanted” He shrugged.

You took the plate and mug and sat next to him on the couch. You started scrolling your phone while eating to occupy your mind. You wanted to turn on the tv and watch your tv show but you were too scared. The atmosphere in the living room was tense and the last thing you needed was another argument.

“You can turn on the tv. I don’t mind and you know it” Quinn said, not even bothering to look at you from the book he was reading.

“It’s fine. I’m almost done” You replied.

After 5 minutes, you finished your breakfast and went to wash your plate and mug. You were doing this longer than always. Everything not to start the conversation about what happened between you in these past two days. You turned off the water and took a deep breath. Quinn finished a chapter and put his book back on the coffee table.

“I think we need to talk about what happened” He started.

“Yeah, we need to” You replied and sat again on the couch trying to keep your distance.

There was a silence between you two. None of you wanted to start this unpleasant conversation.

“I think we should start from the beginning” Quinn took a deep breath. “Why were you so mad after the argument?”

“Are you serious?” You looked at him and you saw that he didn’t have a single clue. “You said that I’m not doing anything. I get it, you might not see it but I’m cleaning the whole apartment. I’m cooking for you. I’m always washing your suits. I’m doing everything for you to make your life easier so you don’t have to do it and focus on hockey”

“I never asked you for that” He replied.

“I know, but I’m your girlfriend and I want you to have everything done so you can rest after games” You fought back.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I understand why you got mad but I never asked you for that. Although I really appreciate it. I never saw you doing this and I took everything for granted. It was wrong from my side and I’m truly sorry” Quinn grabbed your hand. “I’m really sorry, I just… I don’t even know what I was thinking when I said it. As I’m thinking now, you’re doing everything here. Sorry for saying that”

“Thanks for saying this but it would be nice if you would start noticing it. It really hurt me when you accused me of not doing anything” You squeezed his hand.

“I will. I promise to be a better boyfriend and be grateful for the things you are doing. I guess… No, no excuses. What I said was wrong and I need to be better for you. You deserve the world” He brought your hand and placed a kiss on top of it.

“Okay, we sorted things out, it’s time to do something different” You tried to stand up but Quinn stopped you.

“We have to talk about what happened yesterday when we had sex. I know you don’t want to but I need to know for the future”

“Quinn, drop it. It’s embarrassing” You covered your face in your hands.

“It’s not. We have the word to use it. I just want to know what I did wrong to push you to say it” He gently grabbed your wrists to look at your face. “Please”

“It was too much. I felt overstimulated and overwhelmed by your actions. I needed to cum really badly but at the same time I was too fucked and I said it so you could stop. I’m sorry for this” You said and looked at your legs. Quinn placed his fingers under your chin and you were forced to look at him.

“Don’t apologise. You had full right to say it. I should be the one to apologise for pushing you too much”

“I like when you’re rough and dominant but I guess orgasm denial is not my thing” You joked and heard him laughing.

“I’ll remember for the next time. I’m really sorry for the past two days. I was terrible for you” He admitted.

“Stop it. It was just a misunderstanding between us and things like this happened. Glad we could sort things out” You smiled.

“Are we alright?” Quinn asked you.

“We are alright” You leaned and pecked his lips. “How about staying on the couch all day and just enjoying the moment of peace?” You proposed.

“I’m up for it” He kissed you again.

Quinn laid on the couch and pulled you closer to him so could place your head on his chest. You were listening to his heartbeat while he was scrolling through Netflix to find a movie to watch. You two laid in comfortable silence while a movie was played in the background. From time to time, Quinn was placing kisses on top of your head. You were glad that you two were back on the right track.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes oneshot #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #vancouver canucks #v' work

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anginophobia · 1 month ago

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𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞

𝕊𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: It's the same thing every day. The same dream. The same words, but you can never know who it is or who it was talking to you in your dreams.

How long before you can find your answers?

𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: smut, pinning, mentions of groping, Sol's thoughts

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 7,157

𝕊𝕠𝕝 𝕩 𝔽𝕖𝕞!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

𝟙𝟠+ !!ℕ𝕆 𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕆ℝ𝕊!!

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: ℙ𝕃𝔼𝔸𝕊𝔼 ℝ𝔼𝔸𝔻: If I'm being honest, I have no clue how to write smut, never really done it without it sounding weird so I'm sorry if it's a bit weird to read or something. I usually try to get smut scenes from books or movies tbh. I usually write in a google docs first and didn't realize that I wrote 16 pages already from just one fanfic.

Also one of the longest fanfics I wrote.

Please, enjoy. Don't forget to leave criticism if you see fit lol. I'll defiantly need it.

You’ve been having this dream. The same dream every night you sleep. It’s nothing bad, just strange, weird, but you don’t know why you’ve been having it, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it when you wake up.

In the dream, everything is blurry, and you're laying down on the ground, the grass blades tickling your skin. There’s someone there with you, hovering over you, too close to comfort. His face was blurry, unrecognizable. You’ve never seen him before. Who is he? Was he someone you knew? You couldn’t tell. You could feel his fingers caressing your cheek gently, as if afraid he’d break you if he’d press harder. His fingers felt cold against your warm skin. Why was he so cold? When he spoke, his voice sounded muffled, like a thick mask was covering his mouth or something, but he’d always say the same sentence to you.

“Soon, Pumpkin. We will be together. Forever.”

Then, you felt soft lips on your forehead or temple, sometimes even on your chest; right over your heart. It was a strange dream, a dream you've been having for months now. No matter how hard you tried to remember who it was, you couldn't remember. It frustrated you.

You've mentioned it to Brittany one day, when she dragged you with her to go on a shopping spree. She only looked at you with a slight concerned look before shrugging it off, mumbling how weird that was. And you hadn't mentioned it since then.

Since you could only remember certain things in your dream, you started to draw your dream. Each time you drew it, it was a little different each time, drawing his hair short to long, trying to decipher the clothes he'd wear, trying to remember how his voice sounded. The drawings had helped a bit, but not enough.

You wanted to keep drawing, to try your best to remember as much as you could. And where better than the library? You held your bag’s strap on your shoulder as you walked to the library to spend your lunch there, exhausted from the day already. You hadn't had a chance to draw since this morning when you woke up.

You made your way to the library, being quiet so as to not disturb the others who were studying. You hurriedly walked to your usual spot, a table in the back corner of the library, a place you claimed when you started here at this college. Not many people are usually around the back surprisingly enough, which was perfect for you. You'd rather be away from people than be near them. As you made it to the table, you found someone already sitting in your spot. How dare he!

You huffed, annoyance invading the pit of your stomach. You didn't have time to deal with him. So, instead of asking him to move, you took the empty spot next to him, setting your bag down beside your chair after taking out your composition notebook and pencil. The guy next to you looked up from the book he was reading, raising an eyebrow in a silent question and curiosity, but didn't say anything, just watched you settle in your new temporary seat.

You opened your notebook to a blank page, grabbing your pencil to start your sketch. It was silent for the whole time you were in the library, occasionally feeling someone watching you, but it didn't deter you from what you were doing. You drew and drew, groaning softly when you didn't get something right, tearing page after page, crumpling the pages to throw away later.

When the bell ranged, signaling that lunch was over, you sighed, closing your notebook and stuffing it back in your bag before hurrying to get out of the library, not noticing how the guy with green-streaks next to you opened his mouth to say something. He watched you leave, cursing at himself softly from not saying anything earlier before you scrambled to get away. He sighed softly, leaning against the table, staring at the door you had left from.

“Soon, my darling, we shall meet soon.” He mumbled softly to himself, despite you already disappearing from him.

You made it to your art class on time, surprisingly, walking quickly to your seat by the window. You settled in your seat, leaning on your hand and looking out the window. You were feeling frustrated with yourself that you couldn't remember the dream. Whatever you sketched just felt… wrong. Like there was an invisible barrier in between you and your dream. It sucked.

As class began, you could feel someone staring at the back of your head, almost the same feeling you had in the library with the guy next to you. You turned back slightly, trying to see who it was, but unable to find who the culprit was. You tried to shake off the feeling, just turning back around and drawing circles on the desk with your index finger.

You didn't really pay attention to whatever the teacher was spewing about, you only started paying attention when some of the students were getting up from their seats and moving around. You quickly got up when one of the students needed your desk. You stood close to the back corner of the classroom, looking around. Seems like everyone has a partner.

Or almost everyone.

You saw someone sitting in the far back, a book in hand, not moving to get up. You tilted your head slightly to get a better look at him. He was the guy that had sat in your seat in the library! You watched for a moment, seeing if he was going to move. When he didn’t, nor did anyone go near him, you took the opportunity to go over to him. You held your bag’s strap tightly, mentally preparing yourself for socializing. You stopped at the empty desk, staring at him, waiting for him to notice you. For a moment, it looked like he didn’t notice you, until he looked up from his book a bit, keeping the book in his hand. He mumbled something to himself, though you couldn’t hear him, and then he spoke up.

“You seem a bit lost there.” You pushed the urge to roll your eyes at him, wanting to be at least slightly pleasant. Just slightly.

“Do you have a partner?” You asked, making yourself look bored of this “conversation”. He looked away from your gaze, and for a moment, it looked like he wouldn’t answer. You debated just leaving this poor sap to his own devices before he spoke again, still avoiding eye contact.

“... No.” His voice was low, almost as bored as you.

“Great. We’re partners.” You said, taking your seat next to him. He stiffened as you sat down, eyes slightly wider than before, surprised by your boldness to just sit next to a random student and to declare partnership without even asking him his thoughts. Not that he minded it of course, but you didn’t know or seem to care about it.

You put your notebook and pencil on the desk, opening your notebook to another blank page, though you didn’t really feel like drawing anymore, discouraged by your previous attempts at the memory game from your dream. You crossed your arms over the desk, laying your head on your arms, not even knowing what you were supposed to be doing. Great job for not listening, now you're with a complete stranger without an ounce of knowledge of what you need to do. You looked over at his paper, seeing just his name on the top right corner.

Sol. That sounds like a name you’ve heard, but where have you heard it? Not even able to remember where you’ve heard that name, you sat up again, making the guy, Sol, flinch slightly. You looked at him, your head in your hand, leaning on the desk. He looked a bit scared, but for what? You had no idea. Maybe he was a scardy cat. It seems fitting for him.

“So… Sol, right?” You asked, even though you already knew his name. His red orange eyes seemed to light up from your question, almost like he was getting excited that you knew his name.

“You… know who I am?” He asked cautiously and slowly, like it was hard for him to even get the words out. You pointed to his paper, pointing out that he had just written the answer to your question.

“I just read your name, since you’ve written it.” You answered, seeing his expression falter from the realization.

“Oh… right. Yes, I’m Solivan Brugmansia, but I prefer Sol.” He explains, looking back at you again, his expression back to the nonchalant stoic look. Must be his signature look. You nodded, fidgeting with your pencil.

“Right, Sol. To be totally transparent, I have no clue what we—” You waved a hand in between you and him. “—are supposed to be doing.” He raised an eyebrow at you, seemingly not impressed by your lack of social awareness.

“Why not? The teacher explained it a few times.” He retorted back, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning on his desk. You looked away from him, lightly tapping your pencil on the desk.

“I… wasn't really paying attention.” You said softly so only he could hear, not that anyone was even listening. He tried to hide the small smirk that was trying to appear, grabbing his sketchbook and pencil instead.

“Our project is about expressionism.—” He pointed to your face, seeing your slightly tired and bored expression. “—Like the expression you're making now. It's so cute.” He mumbled the last part to himself, but you heard it. The corners of your mouth quirked up slightly, trying to hide the smirk that threatened to appear. You raised an eyebrow at him, leaning slightly closer to him. He leaned slightly back, trying to create a bit of distance.

“You think my face is cute?” You asked soft enough to make him nervous again, tilting your head just enough to make his face burn hot. He looked away quickly, covering half of his face with his sketchbook to hide his reddening face.

“I-I was talking about the look or.. expression you had, but… your face is c-cute too…” He stuttered out, his grip on his sketchbook tightened slightly. Your eyes tracked the movement, looking at how he was holding it tightly like his life depended on it. You didn’t question it, but it made you feel weird, but not enough to find it strange. He’s not doing anything wrong, right?

You turned away from him, picking up your pencil to start drawing him. “I’ll draw you first, you can pose however you want to.” You said, grabbing your notebook from the desk to hold it to draw better. He opened his mouth to interject, but the look you gave him made him shut his mouth and set his sketchbook down, letting you win the “argument.” He crossed his arms over his chest, sitting slightly slouched, sitting surprisingly very still. You started sketching him, your eyes looking at your work, occasionally glancing back at him, making sure you were drawing the lines correctly and having the right amount of shading.

Sol looked… handsome. His hair looked messy and also well put? Like he tried to make it look good but then gave up halfway but still somehow ended up good. He had dark circles under his eyes that made him look mysterious, and also sleep deprived. Does he ever sleep? He had two black piercings on one side of his lips, the light shining on them dimly, making it look like he had a slight pout. He was cute, but it's not like you'd admit it to him, he was a stranger to you. At least that's what you thought. But you did like his aesthetic, you should ask him after where he gets his clothes.

He felt his face heat up from your wandering eyes, turning his head to the side in hope that he could hide his reddening face from you. You chuckled softly from his slight embarrassment, finding it cute. He really was cute.

“Is something the matter?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and looking back at his portrait, close to being halfways done by now. You heard him clear his throat, shifting slightly in his seat. God, he felt like he was burning on the inside. Why did you have to stare at him like that? Didn't you know what it did to him?

“I just… I'm not used to having someone stare at me… like that.” He finally said, his voice softer than it had been before. You hummed softly in response, doing a few touches on his hair.

“It's not always a bad thing when someone looks at you. Maybe I was just admiring the way you look.” You said, not sparing a glance at him as you continued your sketch. He blinked, his composure faltering slightly by your words. He swallowed hard before speaking, still trying to figure out if what you said was real or just in his head.

“You were… admiring me?” He asked gently, too softly, like if he spoke any louder, the world might shatter around him, taking you with the world. Your hand halted it's sketching long enough to look up at him, the side of your mouth twitching slightly to hold back a smirk. You stared at him for a moment longer before looking back at the sketch, but not moving to continue.

Finally, you spoke after what felt like an eternity to Sol. “Who wouldn't? Your style is cool and your face.. Well, it's cute. And your eyes…”

“My eyes?” He asked softly, his arms over his chest slowly lowering as you continued. You looked at him again, fully putting your notebook down, giving him your full attention.

“They're beautiful, Sol. I don't think I've met someone with your kind of eyes. And those dark coloring under your eyes make them even more mesmerizing.” You said, your voice sincere and light, the corner of your mouth lifting slightly in a somewhat smile. His heart felt like it could explode in his chest by your compliment on his eyes. Slowly, he raised a hand to his face, his fingertips touching his eye bags, right under his red orange eyes. No one had ever complimented his eyes, if they did, they never sounded sincere to him. He stared at you, unable to look away.

You looked away before you could notice the way his eyes softened, the way his hand gripped his shirt over his heart, the way his white pupils were dilated slightly and were heart-shaped.

“You have the most beautiful eyes too, my darling.” He whispered softly, too softly for you to hear him, preoccupied with trying to finish his portrait.

The rest of the class was quiet, neither of us saying anything as I tried to finish. When class was over, Sol tried to have a peek at your work, only for you to poke his forehead back with your finger, pushing him slightly back away from looking. He huffed but let it be until next time. Out in the hall, you both exchanged numbers, for the project, of course. You waved goodbye and went on your way to go home, back to your dingy apartment—alone.

While walking back, the streets grow darker each fifty steps you took. You could feel a pair of eyes on you, watching you. It made you feel uncomfortable to the point where you started to walk faster, hoping to get home before anything bad could happen.

You made it back to your apartment in one piece, shutting the door hard behind you and locking the bolt, surprised that it had worked this time. Hopefully it won't get stuck like last time.

You made your way through your apartment, dropping your bag down by the couch with a sigh, heading to your bedroom. You checked the time on your nightstand; 5:34 at night. You sighed, grabbing a few clothes to take a nice long hot bath, something you deserved after a long taxing day. You stripped off your clothes as you walked to your bathroom, closing the door behind you, turning on the hot water on and letting the water rise in the tub a little more than halfway before getting in and sighing softly as the water hit your skin. It felt nice. So very nice. So nice that after only thirty minutes in the tub, you started to fall asleep in the tub. It wouldn't hurt to rest your eyes, would it?

While you were resting your eyes in the tub, unbenounced to you, someone was in your apartment, climbing slowly into your bedroom, the lock broken for a while now that you hadn't even noticed.

Sol was wearing all black, pulling his mask down long enough to breathe the scent of your room, shuddering softly from the smell, delighting in your floral and citrusy, almost like lemon and what… daisy? Or maybe Roses? He couldn't tell, he'll need to see your perfumes so he could buy some. He would just yours if he could, but then you'd be upset if you thought you lost it. He didn't like that thought.

Slowly, he walked out of your bedroom, making sure that you weren't coming out of the bathroom any time soon. He went into the hallway of your small apartment, already halfway in the kitchen and living room at the same time. He stepped into the kitchen, carefully opening the fridge, checking to see if he could find anything. Finding a half empty gallon of milk, he decided to use that. Either that or water from the tap.

He grabbed the gallon of milk from the fridge, setting it softly on the counter and opening the lid. He reached into his pocket, taking out a small bag of crushed up sleeping pills, given by his best friend Hyugo. This was nothing new for Sol. He did this almost every night when he didn't have his “work.” It always excited him seeing you asleep with him near, unaware of him watching you, how he'd stroke your hair softly and nibble on your neck, and completely unaware of how he'd sometimes use your hand to stroke himself till he finished or how whimper to the feeling of your breasts in his hands as he dried humped you into oblivion as you slept. He wondered where Hyugo had gotten pills strong enough for you to be kept asleep through all that.

He poured the powder in the milk, pouring half of it instead of all of it this time, closing the lid of the milk and shaking it just enough to mix the drug and milk, putting it back in the fridge. He decided to look around, he had time, right?

He slowly walked in the living room, looking around at the pictures you've hung up and the books you've placed carefully on your bookshelves. In all the times that he has been in your apartment, he has never been in your living room, mostly in your bedroom or kitchen. He took in your old couch, your TV that seemed slightly too small, the color of your walls. He liked it. He could see himself here all the time, being with you, watching TV with you, cuddling on the couch, just anything to be near you. He heard a soft click of a door opening, and in a panic he fell onto the floor, hidden by the couch. He peeked over the corner of the couch, seeing you in nothing but a towel that hugged your body very well. Too well. He swallowed hard as you walked into the kitchen, running your fingers in your semi wet hair.

He watched you open the fridge and take out the milk, assuming that you were getting a glass of milk. As much as he wanted to stay, now was the time to go while you were distracted. He moved slowly, crawling on the floor to your bedroom, making sure you didn't notice him. Once in your bedroom, he quickly got up from the floor, already heading to the window, but then he heard your soft footsteps, heading towards your bedroom. He looked around, his heart racing in a panic, trying to find a place.

His eyes landed on your closet and he scrambled to get there on time, opening it just enough to slide in and sit in the dark, closing the door softly and sitting in the far corner so he wouldn't be spotted. He looked through the little horizontal holes in the closet door, watching, waiting.

Finally, he spotted you walking in your room, holding a glass half filled of milk, hearing your soft sigh, exhausted by the day. He watched you place the milk on your nightstand and take off your towel, tossing it on your bed for a second as you looked in your drawer. He gasped softly, unable to believe that he was watching you strip!

Of course, he has seen you without clothes before, usually either without a shirt or pants, but fully? Only in his wet dreams. He swallowed again, his eyes roaming over your body, at least of what he could see. He felt his pants tightening nonetheless. Your closet smelled of you, it was almost too much for him.

He watched you put on clean underwear, they looked to be a pastel green with a small tiny darker green bow just on the panty waistband. Green. His favorite color. He bit his bottom lip at the sight, imagining all sorts of things he shouldn't be. Not when you barely knew him for a day! But he has known you for what felt like years. It was years.

He leaned back against the wall, placing a hand over his mouth as you made your way over to the closet, opening it and tossing your used towel in the towel—right on his head, the towel covering his face. He didn't make a sound as you grabbed a shirt from your closet and closed it, unaware of the peeping tom in your closet.

He stayed quiet, listening, hearing your soft footsteps, the sound of the light turning off, the sound of you climbing into bed. He waited, his heart pounding in his chest. After what felt like hours, it was really only ten minutes, he raised his hand and took off the towel from his head, bringing it to his nose, and inhaling. Oh God, your smell was addicting.

He shuddered softly, closing his eyes and inhaling the smell of the towel again. The towel was still slightly wet and warm from your body heat. He loved it. He groaned softly in the towel, his hand grabbing the end of the towel and started to rub it against his hard bulge in his pants, unable to take the tightness of his pants.

His thoughts of you filled his mind as he leaned his head back on the wall, groaning softly into the towel, biting down so he wouldn't be too loud. He thought of his hands on your chest, the feeling of your nipples hardening in between his fingers, squeezing enough to make you moan in painful pleasure. He thought about his fingers going down in between your thighs, feeling your wetness and moving his fingers along your folds before slipping them inside you, hearing you moan for him.

He rubbed the towel faster, moving his hips slowly, humping the towel through his jeans, imagining it was you. He felt hot in his clothes, his breathing becoming ragged in the towel, biting down hard enough to hurt his spider bites.

His bangs clung to the sweat of his forehead that was starting to form, his cock aching in his pants. He wanted more, needed more. He rubbed the towel faster on his bulge, inhaling the towel scent again, whimpering softly into it. He was close, so very close, and his imagination wasn't helping him. His hips moved against the towel more, chasing his release.

He opened his eyes long enough to slightly look through the closet holes, to faintly see your body on your bed, sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware of his presence in your closet, rubbing himself on your used towel. Seeing you sleeping and unaware did something to him, like it always did. He groaned again in the towel, his pants suddenly feeling warmer.

He panted softly, catching his breath from the intense sensation of his cum in his pants. It wasn't the first and he knew it wouldn't be the last. He used the towel to try to clean his mess in his pants, at least the outside of it.

He tossed the towel aside, contaminated by his own fluid and opened the closet door slightly, making sure everything was quiet before crawling out, slowly getting up from his hands and knees. He slowly tiptoed to the window, staying quiet. As he reached the window, he couldn't help but steal another glance at you. Oh, how beautiful you looked as you slept, the blankets half on you and half off your body, sleeping on your side facing him.

He knew it was a risk, but he couldn't help himself. He was completely wrapped around your finger without you knowing. He cursed himself softly before stepping closer, kneeling down on his knees next to your bed, placing a hand softly on your bed, next to your face. His eyes scanned your sleeping expression, his lips parted slightly, his eyes darting from your closed eyes, your nose, then your lips. One kiss wouldn't hurt, right?

He licked his lips, cupping your face ever so gently and slowly leaning in, closing his eyes. His lips brushed against yours softly, as if afraid that he'd hurt you from a simple kiss to the lips. He pressed his lips slightly more on yours, relishing in the soft kiss. His hand from your face slowly moved down, his fingertips touching your jawline lightly. He moved his lips down, kissing your chin softly. He couldn't stop even though he should, but he didn't want to.

You hummed softly, feeling someone kiss you in your dreams. It was enough to wake you. You opened your eyes slowly, still groggy, but clearly seeing a figure in front of you. That alerted you. You jolted up, a scream leaving your throat as you tried to move away from the sudden person that was kissing you. Before your scream could even end, Sol grabbed your wrist and used his other hand to cover your mouth, scattering to make you stop screaming, and his sudden movement to get on top of you didn't help.

You screamed in his hand, your eyes wide as they adjusted to the darkness, finding Sol shushing you softly, panic in his red orange eyes.

“Shh, it's ok, please stop screaming.” He whispered to you, panic laced in his voice, panting softly from adrenaline and the rush of being caught by you. Your heart was racing in your chest, your eyes locked onto his, unable to look away. “I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to scare you.” He continued, his face apologetic and tone filled with guilt, but he didn't move to get off you. He swallowed hard, trying to control his uneven breathing.

“If I let go of your mouth, will you promise to not scream?” He asked softly, hoping you wouldn't scream at him again. You made no move to show that you wouldn't scream, but you averted your gaze from his, clearly thinking over his hopeful question. You looked back at him and nodded.

Slowly, he removed his hand from your mouth, his hand slightly shaky. He waited for you to scream, to do anything. But you didn't. You were just breathing softly, your eyes still wide from confusion and maybe irritation. Sol couldn't tell. He didn't move to get off you, but he let go of your wrist, staring down at you, mesmerizing you, the feeling of you under him.

“Sol… how did you get in?” You asked softly, finally speaking to him. You remembered locking the bolt door when you came home that evening, and there wasn't any other way to get in. Not that you knew of.

“The… window.” He replied softly, raising a hand and pointed to the window with the broken latch. You blinked, surprised that your window was broken. “How?” You asked. Such a simple question, right? Not for Sol. He swallowed hard before answering.

“I… broke it. A while ago.”

“Why?”

“To get in… since you lock your door sometimes.”

You were stunned by how honest his answers were, they left you speechless even. Sol wouldn't lie to you, he never would and never will.

“Why did you do that, Sol?” You asked softly, afraid of the answer. He didn't hesitate when he answered, almost eager to answer your questions.

“Because I love you, and I can't help myself… I wanted to be near you, to be with you. I love you, pumpkin.”

You blinked, registering the nickname he called you. The same nickname that had been torturing you in your dreams. “... What?” You asked, your voice soft, too soft.

“I love you-”

“Not that. What did you call me?” You interrupted him, not registering that he just confessed he loved you, but solely focusing on the nickname. His brows furrowed slightly from your interruption.

“Pumpkin..?” He said, almost like a question rather than a statement. Pumpkin. Yes, indeed the same nickname in your dreams.

“Sol… how long have you been… visiting me at night?” You asked, needing to know, desperate for the answer.

“A while. Months. So long.” It was… almost an answer. But it was an answer enough for you. The dream you've been having for months. It was his fault. Sol’s fault. Whispering to you in your sleep that you'll be together forever with him. But you didn't know him, or at least you didn't think you did.

“Who are you?”

“Your soulmate.”

Sol didn't hesitate when answering, almost like he had been practicing that response. Your eyes narrowed on him, thinking over his response. Was he dense? Convinced that you were meant to be his? Where was the chapter you missed in finding a soulmate?

“I don't know you-”

“Oh, but you do. You know me.” Sol grabbed your hand gently and placed it on his chest, over his heart, his eyes bright in the dark. “You know me, you just… you just forgot, that's all. It has been a while since we last spoke.” He continued, his voice filled with hope. Your brows furrowed at his response, clearly not convinced.

He continued.

“The first time we met was special to me. We had the same class together, our first semester of English class, creative writing to be exact. We had to write about what we wanted for the future. It was just us two in the class, everyone had gone off to lunch. You came up to me and asked me if I figured out what I wanted.”

His grip on your hand tightened slightly, his face slightly closer than before to yours. He continued.

“I said no, I didn't know what I wanted to do with my future. And then you took my paper and pen, writing something down. Do you remember what you wrote?” He asked, tilting his head slightly. You shook your head, unable to answer his question. He smiled sadly but continued anyway.

“‘One day, Sol and I will be married.’ Married. You looked at me with such a cute and wide smile, I thought my heart stopped completely. You looked so beautiful then, and you're so beautiful now.” He let go of your hand and cupped your face with both of his hands, his eyes pleading with yours. “Do you remember?” He asked softly again, hoping that you would remember.

You swallowed, trying your best to remember. You sorta remember something of the sort. All you really remember was helping someone out with a paper that was blank. Was it Sol? It could've been, but to be honest, you were busy your first year at the college, everything was a blur. But you did remember those eyes in your dreams and in the past.

“Your eyes. I remember your eyes.” You finally responded. Sol let out a sigh of relief, at least you remembered something from the past. Without a warning, he closed the gap in between you, his lips crashing into yours. You stiffened under him, not expecting that. His lips moved against yours slightly, unable to help himself. When he pulled away, he looked at you, adoration in his eyes. He looked… lovesick.

“I love you. So very much, and you even remembering my eyes means so much to me. We were meant to be, we are soulmates, even in your dreams.” You blinked at his words, taken aback by his knowledge about the dreams.

“How did you..?” You faltered, unable to finish your sentence. He just chuckled softly, kissing the corner of your mouth gently.

“Did you know you talk in your sleep?” He whispered softly to you, his nose grazing your cheek. You felt your face get hot, clearly not knowing that information about yourself. “And those lovely drawings you never finish, I'm flattered you tried to draw me.” He pulled away enough to see your expression, unable to hide the pleasure he got from seeing how shocked you were.

“You looked through my notebook?” He nodded, clearly pleased with himself.

“We are perfect together. We draw each other, dream about each other. We need each other.” He said softly, his thumb grazing your cheek softly, slowly moving down to your lips, feeling the softness of them.

“Please… let me love you. Let me show you that we were made for each other.” He pleaded softly, looking at you expectantly. You stared at him in disbelief. That is crazy! Who would be crazy enough to let someone love you to prove that you were soulmates?

Well, you just might be. You did dream about the fucker. His words, his touch, maybe this was a dream as well. What could hurt?

You leaned in, kissing him softly, your eyes closed as you kissed him. He instantly melted into your kiss, cupping your face and deepening the kiss, his lips moving against yours. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling his heart racing hard against his chest.

You tilted your head to the side, opening your mouth for him, your arms moving to wrap around his neck, deepening the kiss. He groaned in your mouth, his hands starting to roam your body, from your chest to your sides down to your thighs. He lifted you slightly so that he was sitting up on your bed, and you were on his lap now. His hands were warm on your exposed thighs, squeezing just enough to make you whimper softly against his lips. He pulled his mouth away from yours, trailing soft yet desperate kisses down your jaw to your neck, almost like a starved man in desperate need of you in his hands and in between his teeth.

You leaned your head back, accepting this, despite only knowing him for half a day, and yet it sorta felt like you knew him for a while in a way. Like your body knew his touch yet your mind didn't. His hands moved from your thighs, his fingertips going under your shirt, as if silently asking for permission. Not like he needed it, he had already felt your body in his hands, but it was only polite.

In a silent response, you moved your hands, allowing yourself to take off your shirt, tossing it aside, almost completely naked, saved for your pastel green underwear. Sol’s pants felt tight, too tight. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close enough to him that he captured one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue swirling around your peaked nipple. You let out a soft moan, your fingers digging into his hair. You could feel his bulge pressing against you in between your legs, feeling his need.

One of his hands was on your lower back, the other on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him, desperate for your touch, your warmth. He couldn't get enough. He wanted more. He let go of your nipple with a soft wet sound, the hard peak wet from his saliva as his mouth found its way to your neck, his teeth biting down on your neck, earning a muffled whimper from you.

“You're so warm.” He mumbled softly against your neck, one hand moving downwards, his fingers slipping past the waistband of your panties. He needed to feel you. He couldn't stand not touching you. His fingers rubbed against your folds, feeling the wetness that was already growing there. You gasped, only for it to be muffled by Sol’s lips, kissing you deeply as his fingers rubbed your clit, swallowing your moans and whimpers.

“So wet.”

His middle finger slipped inside you, making you gasp softly against his lips. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards from the sound, encouraging him to continue. Slowly, he pulled his finger in and out of you, hearing the soft moans you were letting out. He added another finger, slowly stretching your cunt out in an almost loving way.

“So tight.”

You moaned as his fingers curled inside you, curling just at the right spot. You couldn't take it anymore. With the use of your hands, you pushed him down onto your bed, straddling him, his fingers still inside you but they stopped, making you pant softly from them. You looked down at him, unable to take it anymore. You needed him.

You started moving against his fingers, starting to ride his fingers with purpose, unable to stop yourself. He groaned softly, watching you move on him, using his fingers to get off. You were getting close, too close. You needed him. Desperately.

You grabbed his wrist, pulling enough to take his fingers out of you, your wetness dripping off his fingers and into the palm of his hand. You unfastened his belt, not wanting to slow down or stop. That was until he spoke up.

“P-please be gentle! I-I haven't…” he stopped himself, making you stop and look at him, panting heavily, staring at him, waiting for him to continue. He didn't, his cheeks flushed and red, his eyes not looking into yours.

“You haven't what?” You asked finally, breathless. He didn't know if he should continue, not sure on how'd you'd react. He swallowed before looking at you, embarrassment on his face.

“I haven't.. done this before.” He whispered, almost too soft for you to hear. But you heard it. You blinked.

“What?”

The tip of his ears were pink, his face hot as he looked up at me, his face mixed with embarrassment and seriousness. “I have never.. done this. Sex.” He repeated, his heart racing in his chest.

“You're a virgin?” You asked without thinking. He nodded, averting his gaze from yours, not wanting to see any disappointment in your eyes. But there wasn't. To be honest, it sorta made things more… special? You didn't know, but it made you feel something.

“Is that… a bad thing?” He asked softly, meeting your gaze once more. You leaned down and kissed him softly, your hand unzipping his pants. He gasped softly, feeling your fingers go into his pants, touching his boxers.

“No, it's ok. I'll be gentle.” You said softly, your fingers going into his boxers, touching his hard length. He groaned from the feeling of your hand on his cock, wanting more.

He helped you slide his pants off, his cock springing free from his pants and boxers. The size of him was… impressive. It makes your mouth dry up from the thought.

“Does it… look bad?” He asked, worried that it wasn't to your liking. You shook your head, your hand wrapping around his length, earning a soft hiss from him.

“It looks… delicious.” You whispered to him, kissing his lips softly as you moved your underwear to the side enough to rub the tip in your wet folds, your tongue prying his mouth open, your tongue swirling around his.

You positioned yourself on him before lowering yourself, hearing him gasping against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips like his life depended on it, feeling your walls slowly engulfing around him. He couldn't help it as his hips rolled up into you slightly, needing to feel all of you. You moaned, placing your hands on his sides to make him stop moving his hips.

He whined softly in protest, looking up at you with desperate eyes. You waited, sitting fully on him. It was his first time, so you'll need to be gentle and slow at first.

You started moving on him, your hands moving to his chest, gripping his shirt he was still wearing. He whimpered, his fingers digging into your hips, helping you slowly lift up and back down on him. You moved like that, hearing his soft whimpers. He moved his hips occasionally, urging and pleading for you to go faster, to move on his harder. He sat up slightly, his mouth finding your chest, kissing and sucking gently, his hands moving to your sides.

“P-please, pumpkin… use me, take whatever you desire from me—nnnh..–please..” He pleaded, looking up at you with those red orange eyes, like how a puppy looks at its owner. It was too much. How could you deny someone's begging when they're so cute?

You started moving faster, wrapping your arms around his neck, rolling your hips in a way that made him moan loud, burying his face in your neck to silence himself. His hands gripped your back and skin, pulling you closer onto him, making himself go deeper.

It felt like bliss, the way he moved inside you, how he gripped you like you were his lifeline, groaning and whimpering, muttering words of pleas to love him and to never leave him, not like you were listening, too wrapped up in the feeling of his cock twitching in you deep.

It felt great, too great. For both of you. The air mixed with sweat and whispers of Sol’s love confession and moans.

Even after the heated air cooled down, with Sol in your arms, limbs wrapped with limbs. You still didn't understand what convinced Sol that you were made for each other, or even why he started being in your dreams. But a part of you hopes that it won't end.

𝕄𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥'𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕒𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥.

#tkatb vn #visual novel #anginophobia #the kid at the back vn #solivan brugmansia #smut #the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back sol #vn #dream #sol x reader #tkatb x reader #the kid at the back smut #tkatb sol #tkatb #enjoy #<3 #soulmates #dark

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antlerqueensab · 2 months ago

Text

travis martinez and his fleetwood mac obsessed girlfriend

1.7 k words

cw: a little angst, incredibly minor season 3 spoilers, way too much writing than i planned

travis had met you in his freshman year of high school.

really, he didn't want to meet you; he was required to because you were a yellowjacket - therefore, he had to go to games, and his dad made him meet all the girls.

although, teenage boy mindset and hormones aside, you weren't the worst person to talk to, and he thought you were the prettiest girl on the team. so, naturally, he noticed you more. you two had about four classes together, basically over half of your block schedule for the day. but also, fifteen-year-old travis was still very much a loser, and you seemed pretty popular because of the whole 'athlete' thing you had going.

so, instead of talking to you, he took to noticing things.

like how you always seemed to put effort into your outfits - now, travis couldn't care less about fashion, if we're being serious, but with you? he'll take notice of everything. who you sit with during lunch. what questions you answer in class. is that new nail polish? that's a different hairstyle, it's pretty. hey, you fixed your jersey, so there's no grass stain on the hem of the shorts!

safe to say, travis quickly became obsessed.

and naturally, when he turned sixteen, - he was seven months past his birthday - he developed just enough amount of confidence to finally talk to you. it was in your shared biology class, sixth period, room 209. so, he had the entire day to hype himself up for it.

he still managed to fuck it up.

because still, he was an awkward loser who didn't have many friends, most kids knew him as 'flex' or 'coach martinez's son', and he really didn't have a clue why he thought talking to you, of all girls, would work. you wouldn't want him in any way, shape, or form. he'd be insane to think like that.

except you did. you very much did.

because if we're being honest, travis was the most obvious person in the entire world. he couldn't handle making eye contact that lasted longer than five seconds. god forbid you caught him staring, though, he'd look away, blushing all the way up to the tips of his ears and with a mortified look on his face, attempting to hide his face in his hands and forget all about it. it was endearing, really.

which was why you took pity on the boy and asked him to homecoming that year. he was floored. like, genuinely and utterly confused, embarrassed that you had to be the one to ask, and... relieved.

safe to say, it ended up working out for him, considering after junior year started, you were his girlfriend for over half a year and still very much interested in staying with him.

then, the crash happened.

like any other boyfriend would - and just travis being himself - he stuck by your side the entire time. especially after his dad died. and really, it became a comfort thing for him because not only were you understanding, always giving him time he needed, held him whenever you could (or whenever he needed), you were also ungodly obsessed with fleetwood mac.

he had known that fact. he had known since freshman year, how when you had headphones on with your stupidly cute walkman, it was always something fleetwood mac. how you insisted, after the two of you got together, to always hear at least one song in his car when you drove anywhere. how you had the vinyls and posters plastered on your walls in your bedroom. how you were forever jealous that your parents went to see them in concert before you were born. all of it.

so, when you, - after running out of batteries in your walkman you packed for the trip - started humming a song or silently singing to yourself to dull the silence, travis noticed. and really, he found the habit insanely cute, even if he teased you for it any chance he got.

"are you seriously humming gold dust woman again?" he raised an eyebrow with a grin, reaching to playfully nudge your side from where you sat beside him on the log near the makeshift campfire.

"shut up, it helps," you mumbled back with a shake of your head, crossing your arms and leaning closer to the fire.

the girls picked up on your habit quick, too. honestly, they all missed music too, so they'd encourage it. maybe misty had known strictly the stevie songs, so she'd attempt to sing along with you one time. maybe akilah's older sister had played an album here or there, so she'd try and remember some lyrics to pipe up with once or twice. robin probably knew more than the other girls, so she'd hum with you.

it was nice. nice to have a girl around who tried her best to keep her spirits up in a way that would've helped their situation more. nice to see at least one girl not trying to focus too hard on survival that she forgot everything from before the crash.

travis also distinctly remembered you crying when the group found the stereo in the cabin. the girls really had to give you the first chance to use one of your cassettes from your bag - it would be cruel not to - so they could listen to music they liked. not whatever bullshit cabin guy had lying around.

then time goes by, you've kept your habit up surprisingly well, travis is also sure he's memorized at least a dozen songs just from you singing them quietly to yourself in the hut you two had made after the cabin burnt down, or just around during chores.

he also promised that when the time for rescue came, he'd listen to every single fleewood mac album they ever put out just to make you happy. that if the chance ever came up, he'd take you to that stupid show you were so bitter about your parents seeing before you and you two would have the time of your fucking lives because you, you of all people deserved it after all the shit you both went through.

then, winter came.

winter came and, for the second time in the wilderness, ruined travis's life.

because when shauna was so adamant about the fact that she swore she saw van fuck with the cards for the last hunt, she took the spot before mari. which, since you were beside hannah, ended up with you pulling the queen.

you know how that ended up.

and once travis had figured out how you ended up dying, he regretted everything. the pit that you fell in, with the wooden spikes, and was far too deep for anything less than fatal, was travis's fault. and technically, yours too. since, when travis had the idea to put spikes down there, you were right there with him - you didn't question what he planned to do, you knew he didn't mean any harm.

that just ended up with you, the most important thing ever to him, dead. dead because of an offhanded idea he had to get back at lottie for tormenting him with all those shrooms and the manipulation. dead because travis wanted to do something for his gain for once.

he picked up on your habit after rescue, he realized. he found himself thinking of the lyrics to whatever song popped up in his head, picking out the records in the shops he went to, finding the posters - the same ones you had - that he ended up hanging in his room to just feel closer to you again, and listening to at least one song a day, sometimes on repeat, because they were your favorites.

travis, who had walked into the living room one day just like a normal day. it was a good seven years post-rescue, now 2004. he was visiting his mom at his childhood home, one that still felt far too quiet, but he'd gotten used to it.

she had pbs on, like other times he had came to visit. really, nothing different. he had sat down on the couch, the housecat that his mom had gotten during his time out in the wilderness to keep her company had clambered its way onto his lap. his mom had went to check on something outside in the garden, so he just waited and watched the commercials come to a pause and whatever his mom had on the tv come back on.

travis, who still froze when he saw the corner of the screen, 'live from boston, fleetwood mac.' he hadn't listened to the music in about six years. way too many memories tied to it, and he refused to let them resurface. he was okay now, wasn't he? he had moved on the best he could, gotten a house and a good job.

but still, he couldn't help but almost immediately break down sobbing when he focused back on the screen, to just about the cruelest pick for him to be forced to sit and watch. silver springs, one that he refused to listen to whatsoever, simply because it was your absolute favorite song, and he didn't want to dwell anymore. that, and he realized he never really focused on the lyrics.

when he did, he found himself settling a little further back into the couch cushions and reluctantly petting the stupid cat still on his lap. but the ending, as soon as the instrumental for the last part lifted, he fixed his posture.

i'll follow you down to the sound of my voice will haunt you you'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you

and travis, who really couldn't hold it anymore and just let himself cry like a baby, even when the song ended.

#yellowjackets s3 #travis martinez #yj spoilers #yellowjackets x reader #travis martinez x reader #travis martinez x you

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sundrop-writes · 11 months ago

Text

Eager Little Puppy

Isaac Lahey x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary:

You offer to help Isaac relax. He agrees, thinking that you have something entirely different in mind. But when he finds out what you have planned, he really can't bring himself to mind.

(Or - you fuck Isaac's brains out to help him relax.)

Isaac Lahey x GN!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 2,700

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is primarily a smut fic; the reader character is completely gender neutral - there is no mention of the reader's genitals and no description of what kind of genitals the reader has, and the only pronouns used to refer to the reader are you/yours; use of Y/N; most of the fic focuses on Isaac and acts the reader performs on him; there is dom/sub dynamics - the reader is more dominant and Isaac is more submissive; there is a slight passing mention of Isaac's abusive past (and how it makes him stressed out, so he is eager to use sex and submission as a way to relax and ease his mind); marking kink (the reader giving Isaac love bites and hickies); anal fingering - Isaac receiving (mention of Isaac being an anal virgin before this); oral - Isaac receiving; praise kink (reader praises Isaac and he loves it) - the reader calls Isaac 'good boy', 'pretty', and 'puppy'; lots of dirty talk; use of a dildo on Isaac (anally); passing mention of blood (the reader licks Isaac so hard that he bleeds and then licks it); Reader swallows Isaac's cum - I think that's it?

A/N: Just another random fic I wrote while on hiatus because I can't get enough of my baby Isaac, and I feel like he would love being called by the nickname Puppy (and that is now forever what I refer to him as in my head). He just looks like such a puppy lmao. He has big puppy dog eyes, he's constantly looking to others (like Scott, Erica, and Derek) for guidance and validation, he's eager to follow even though he's strong and could be a leader. He is an eager little puppy lapdog and I love him so fucking much. I just wanna pet his hair like a sweet little puppy and praise him and also fuck his brains out. Hence, this fic. Anyway, if you're a fellow Isaac lover, I hope you enjoy this fic!!

...

When you had suggested ‘relaxing’, Isaac thought you meant taking a bubble bath, some candles, aromatherapy.

Perhaps reading a book curled up in bed with some gentle music playing in the background. You seemed like the type of person to enjoy those things. He had no clue what relaxation even was - it’s not like he had a lot of time to relax, going straight from his father’s house of horrors to Pack life with Derek, nearly being killed every other week.

Of course, that was exactly why you had suggested this.

You and Isaac had been friends for a while, flirting back and forth for even longer, and fooling around for only a few short weeks. He knew that you cared about him a lot, and he was grateful that you actually thought about these things. That you actually considered the toll that stress took on him.

He just had no clue what he was getting himself into when he agreed to a ‘relaxing’ evening with you.

He certainly hadn’t been expecting this.

Being laid out on your bed, completely naked while you were still mostly clothed, the lights delightfully soothing and dim, the covers so soft against his skin while you took him on the ride of his life. His body was covered in your spit and teeth marks, sharp suction spots where you had latched on and made him moan. Unfortunately the marks were already healing, making you regretful and even more determined to make him remember you by the distinction of your touch alone.

Still, you dug your teeth in, providing the perfect little bite of pain to go with the pleasure, especially now as your fingers well-lubed fucked up inside of him - making your impression in his previously untouched hole for the first time. You pushed your fingers deep inside of him, fucking him with precise, certain movements while your mouth worked on his cock.

He felt like his mind was slowly melting between his ears, every single known thought escaping him - but he had a distinct feeling that’s exactly what you had wanted. Because now he couldn’t worry, he couldn’t stress, he couldn’t even spend a single moment thinking about anything that had been plaguing his mind for the past few months. He couldn’t even be insecure about the whorish moans he was letting out or the way he was angling his hips toward you, silently begging for more.

This was entirely relaxing.

You moaned around his dick, encouraging him - causing him to let out another loud moan.

It made you smile internally, feeling that in the way his body gave in to you, the way his needy hole flexed around your fingers, opening up to you but clenching slightly - telling you how badly he wanted more, needed more, even without words.

You pulled off his cock with a wet pop, causing him to let out a shuddering moan of disappointment as the now spit-slick sensitive organ was exposed to the cool air. His dick fell against his stomach, smearing precum against the smooth, porcelain skin there while you eased another finger into his greedy hole. Now, fucking three of your fingers in and out of him, something that made Isaac part his thighs and wiggle his hips down into your touch, of course - desperate for more, even unconsciously.

“That’s it - such a good boy for me.” You purred, grinning down at him.

He was so pretty like this.

His face dropped back against the fluffiness of your pillow, his eyes fluttering closed and his mouth gaped open as he let out the prettiest soft sounds. His lips were swollen and spit-glossed from where you had kissed him, something that made him breathless and wrecked. His nipples were puffy and swollen from where you had bitten and worked them, making him so frenzied and frantic, his stomach heaving with little breaths, desperate to get air into his lungs as you continually punched it out of him by fucking your fingers up into him.

His long, thick cock gently bobbed against his stomach, leading down to a nest of blond hair that covered his heavy balls, smeared wet with the lube that you were fucking him with.

Somehow - even in such a sinful state, he looked so damn angelic.

He was severely enjoying the thickness and the rhythm of your three fingers, you could only imagine how much he would like what you had for him next.

“Such a pretty thing, aren’t you?” You couldn’t contain the praise, not when he was this good, not when you felt the affection swelling up inside of you. He let out a loud, rattling moan at this, and you knew that you had struck gold. “Such a pretty boy. You like it when I remind you how fucking good you are, huh?”

“Please,” Isaac choked out, his throat clearly dry and strangled from all the moaning he had been doing. “Please - more.”

You locked eyes with him, and saw nothing but glassy, empty headed pleasure swimming there. And while his needy body flexed tightly around your fingers, you knew exactly what he was begging for - like a fish on dry land gulping desperately, you knew exactly what he was struggling for.

More of your praise. Something he likely didn’t even know he had wanted before this, now lighting his body on fire. Now something he was desperate for more of - something he would likely need to survive from now on.

“You want more, pretty boy?”

You teased him, gently skimming your thumb along the underside of his cock, tracing a thick vein that made his muscles jolt. He nodded his head frantically, breathing thickly again, his eyes falling shut as his head fell back once again, eagerly waiting for you to comply.

“Yeah? You’re gonna get everything you want. Cause you’re such a pretty boy - you deserve it all. Such a good boy, such an eager little puppy-”

The nickname was something you had teased him with before. When you had found out that Derek had turned him, you insisted that if Derek and Scott were well-trained, full-blown wolves, then Erica, Boyd, and Isaac were just ‘puppies’. Newbies. It was something meant to taunt him, belittle him. But you had always seen the spark in his eyes when you said it.

And now, feeling the way his hole clenched around your touch, feeling his hips fuck down against you, seeing the little pulse that shifted his cock as a bit of precum leaked out - you had known that you were right.

Isaac was just an eager puppy waiting to be fucked.

“Please, please!” He gasped out, whipping his eyes open and looking down the length of his body at you. “Hnng, I need it!”

He wasn’t even entirely sure what he was begging for - it was pure static between his ears, a senseless TV signal that only became slightly clear when your voice cut through the snow.

“Hey, shhh, it’s okay, puppy.” You said, smoothing your free hand across his stomach, purposefully avoiding any contact with his cock. “I’ve got you.”

He reached out and grabbed your wrist, and your chest swelled with just how sweet he was - how loving and affectionate, even when he was clearly desperate to be fucked.

“Such a sweet boy,” You continued to praise him, petting that hand across his torso, reaching to gently flick his nipple, exhausting more moans from him as you did this. “Such a sweet little puppy, aren’t you? Just an eager little thing desperate to be fucked, huh?”

Isaac’s moan in response turned into a little howl of disappointment as you pulled your fingers out of him completely. You were almost hurt by the way his lip quivered and his brows furrowed - you would have been more upset if you didn’t know that you had something better in store for him.

“Y/N-” He began to argue, his voice absolutely sour, but you cut him off.

“I’ve got you.” You told him firmly, leaning in and kissing across his chest, ending this by laying a kiss on his mouth, causing your clothed body to roughly brush against his cock for a moment - which made him whine. “I’m gonna take good care of you, puppy.”

He let out another guttural moan at these words, and watched with wide, curious eyes as you reached to your nightstand. His eyes widened when your hand came back with a cock - a six inch, bright blue, veined dildo. He felt a slight twist of anxious intimidation in his stomach at the thought of taking the object inside of him, but it was quickly washed out by pure need when his hole clenched around nothing and he realized how terribly empty he felt now that your fingers were gone.

“Do you trust me?” You asked, reaching for the lube that you had dropped on the bed beside him earlier, slicking up the cock with more than a healthy amount.

“Yes.” Isaac told you honestly.

“Good.” You grinned at him. “Cause this is gonna be so good for you, baby.”

You then put it between his thighs, using one hand to tease the tip of the lubed up dildo along his slightly gaped hole while you reached your other hand, still very wet with lube, to his cock. You took a good grip on him and began slowly jerking him off while you eased the first few inches of the cock into him.

Isaac let out a loud moan, tossing his head back, his thighs tensing as he was already overwhelmed with pleasure. It was just a hint of what was to come, but it was so good to be stretched open around something so thick, something that filled him up so well.

It was just a slight burn in his muscles as his body ached to accommodate something thicker and wider than your fingers - but there was a feeling, something deep in his stomach that was aching and curious for more. His cock was slowly warming up with pleasure as you touched him, turning his brain into even more of a soup as he gripped at the sheets beneath him and prayed that this feeling would never have to stop.

“More!” He cried out, angling his hips further into your touch.

“Such a greedy puppy, aren’t you?” You cooed, your voice edging on mocking as you sped up the pace of your hand on his cock, easing more of the dildo into him, indulging in the beautiful sounds he let out. “Just can’t have your pretty hole filled fast enough, can you?”

Isaac let out a moan in agreement, and you pushed forward until the last of the cock was finally inside of him, leaving him furled around the base and gripping it tightly, echoing out a pretty gasp as he was fully filled.

The six inch dildo wasn’t huge, but it was the biggest (and only) cock he had ever taken inside of him, so it made him feel absolutely full. It made him feel like he was being split open in the best way possible. It made his mind melt right down to liquid butter, made his cock pulse with pleasure in your hand. Isaac felt a sense of bitter cruelty when you closed your grip around the base, making his dick throb harder and ache.

“Good?” You asked, clearly meaning to check on his well being.

Isaac wanted to voice a complaint about you not making him cum fast enough, but he knew that wasn’t what you were asking about.

“S-so good.” He choked out, trying to angle his hips back and fuck himself on the cock.

“Good.” You replied, a wicked grin forming across your lips. “Now you’re gonna get exactly what you need. You’re gonna get your dumb little puppy brains fucked out,”

Isaac didn’t even have a moment to question these words before you were pulling the dildo out of him slightly and fucking it back into him as hard as you could muster. This started a brutal, rough pace of hammering the toy between his thighs, not even giving him a moment to feel empty before he was full again - something that would have been painful if not for his incredible healing abilities and the pain tolerance that came with it. No, this wasn’t painful - this was just bliss.

Pure, mindless bliss at your hands, having his hole fucked at such an intense pace - something he always needed but never knew to ask for.

And then, your mouth was on his cock again.

He let out a purely inhuman sound, a deep growl that dissolved into a whine like the puppy you accused him of being when you took him down to the base all in one go, smothering his cock in the impossible sauna wet heat of your mouth in seconds.

You only relented your pace of fucking the fake cock into him for a moment to concentrate on not gagging on his impressive seven inch thickness, giving a few hard gulps around the tip of his cock as it settled in the back of your throat. Something that drove him absolutely insane between the pressure of your throat on his dick, smothering him in wet heat, and the feeling of the fake cock fucking into his asshole, filling him up so good, wetness smearing between his thighs, making him feel so perfectly raw as you continually fucked him.

You pulled off his cock and replaced your mouth with your hand, kissing along his hip, digging your teeth in and leaving another harsh bite that would heal too soon for his liking. Isaac had a passing thought about getting a tattoo of your teeth marks on his skin, but it was drowned out by you licking up the bit of blood that sprouted there before you began talking again, your voice a bit more rough than before from having his cock nestled so tightly in your throat.

“You like getting fucked and filled, puppy?”

You purred against his skin, your voice full of spit, so perfectly syrupy. Isaac didn’t have a moment to even contemplate answering, not with the barrage of sensations overwhelming him, quickly drawing him closer to his orgasm.

“You like having your pretty cock sucked while your needy little hole is filled up? Hmm? Are you gonna cum like this? Are you gonna cum from being fucked like the needy little puppy that you are?”

One of these days, that nickname was going to kill him.

“Please, Y/N, please!” He chanted out, his breath barely making it back into his lungs every time the force of you fucking the dildo into him forced a sharp moan out from between his lips. “Please, ‘m gonna cum, please lemme cum, please-!”

Him asking for permission to cum was the thing that truly drove you insane.

“Cum for me, puppy.” You told him, reaching to sweep the tip of his cock back into your mouth, eager to taste him.

You continued to fuck him hard through it, creating a beautifully sloppy sound in the room as the thick plastic toy destroyed him, fucking into his needy hole utterly relentlessly. It was only a moment later that he came, his shaking thighs stiffening and his back arching off the bed.

You were barely able to hold him down as he shoved more of his cock into your mouth, shooting thick spurts of cum across your tongue and down your throat, so perfectly driven mad by all the sensations you had delivered to him. You sucked him through it, not stopping until you were satisfied that you had every single last drop of his release.

When it was over, you popped off his cock, and he was still panting, desperate to catch his breath when you eased the dildo out of him - causing a gentle moan from him - now slightly disappointed at the feeling of being empty and wondering if he would ever be the same again without that fullness inside of him. You put it aside to be taken care of later and crawled up Isaac’s body, draping yourself over him to capture his mouth - causing an odd delight to him as he tasted himself on your tongue.

“Well,” Isaac sighed against your lips. “That is one hell of a way to relax.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh at this.

...

A/N: Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, and there will not be a follow up or a 'Part 2'. So if you are going to comment, please comment about the body of the material that has been written.

I would love to write more about Isaac in the future, and I do have another smut fic for him in my drafts, so if you're an Isaac lover, definitely follow me and look out for that. And go to my Teen Wolf masterlist for more non-smutty stuff about him that is currently there. But for now, this is a singular, closed off story and there will not be a follow up to it. I hope you have enjoyed it if you have read this far, and thank you so much for reading!

#sundrop writes #isaac lahey x you #isaac lahey x y/n #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey smut #isaac lahey #daniel sharman x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf smut #teen wolf fanfiction

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spideysbruh · 2 years ago

Text

Thank You GQ

a/n- the lil ~ means a passage of time

liked by florencepugh, y/n and 892,339 others

tchalamet GQ.

view all 371,728 comments

tstan your shoots are always the best

GQ let's do it again some time mr. chalamet

y/n oh my

timmylaurie he's so cute omg

liked by tchalamet and 170,383 others

y/n what's everyone asking for from santa?

view all 15,383 comments

timmytimstan omg t liked

yourfriend what are you getting me for christmas 🤭

y/n literally no clue ❤️

tchalamet a vinyl record would be nice

y/n liked

y/n 🤔

timmytimstan omg t commented !

timmysgf who is she ??

tchalamet oh wow.

kylesballs not him simping for a random insta model publicly LMAOO

timotheeandall y/n is NOT an instagram model omggg 💀

@y/n tweeted: need. need so bad

@sinusandsocks replied- me too girl 💀💀

@lauriesarmpit replied- no way the first tweet I see of hers is ab timmy 😭😭💀💀

@tsgf replied- how do you know it's about him?

@ynsleftear replied- trust me, she's been like this for a while 💀💀 she stays shooting her shot!!

liked by tchalamet, yourfriend, rachelzegler and 243,827

y/n honeymoon fades

view all 32,817 comments

sabrinacarpenter caption. i love you.

y/n liked

ynstan BEAUTIFUL GIRL

tchalamet need.

y/n liked

chalametgirl BYEEEE LMAOOOOO

tchalamet oh my.

rachelzegler absolutely gorgeous. when are we hanging out 🥺🥺

y/n im free next week <3 let me dm you w my schedule LMAOO we need to have a sleepover again I got so much to tell you

rachelzegler omg this is happening ill see you next week love

~~~

tchalamet just posted a story!

@y/n tweeted: the average person was never meant to have this much lore.

@realchalamet liked and retweeted

@ynsblanket replied- oh god what happened girl

@ynandtimschild replied- you're literally dating timothee chalamet it's okay 😩😩🙏🏼

@y/n replied- exactly!!! life is crazy.

@realchalamet liked

@timoatreides replied- wait what💀💀

@realchalamet tweeted: life IS crazy

@paulswhore replied- BROOOO !?!?!!!

@ynsgf replied- HELPP!?!?!!! at 2am is crazy

~~~

liked by tchalamet, dylanminnette, haileesteinfeld and 1,937,727 others liked

y/n two years. you've dealt with every part of me and you're still here with me. I love you more than anything my silly boy. I'll always remember the GQ issue that finally gave me the courage to dm you 💀💀

view all 123,732 comments

tchalamet ohhhh THATS why its framed in our place 🤔🤔

y/n but also cause im so proud of you 😍things can have two meanings 🫶

paulsdune TWO YEARS ?!?!!! it took yall forever to make it official huh

y/n you're telling me...

tchalamet thank god for GQ cause i was too scared to dm you myself 💀💀

y/n liked

lauriesyn NO WAYYYY HAPPY ANNIVERSARY YALLL

kyleshair literally my parents omg

timosbirthmark tbh it's good they waited a while to actually date, people be so quick to jump into relationships LMAOO

rachelzegler our double dates are some of my favorite memories

y/n same we gotta do it again

mariastory timothee and josh being friends omg

liked by y/n, zendaya, madisonbeer and 3,827,727

tchalamet thank you once again GQ. i think i'm much more mature this time around. and thank you for getting me the love of my life with the 2020 issue, I am eternally grateful.

view all 432,226 comments

y/n oh my 😍

tchalamet liked

laurieslaurence YOU ATEEEE the lil part about y/n and how much she's helped shape you 🥺🥺🫶🫶

atreideskyle i ❤️ my boyfriend

zendaya OKAYYYYY

willyswonka he seems like such a good boyfriend to y/n

florencepugh so proud of you!!!

charliestimo the comparison to the 2020 and this one 🥺🥺 he's already grown so much 😭💔💔

ayoedebiri 🫶🫶

liked by y/n, dovecameron, addisonraee and 4,282,727

tchalamet my love deserves a post of its own. when we're apart i count down the minutes until we can be together again. you make me the best possible version of myself and i thank you for it. you are the most beautiful person inside and out, and I'm so lucky to get to not only know you, but love you as well. i love you happy two years my pretty girl.

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timosatreid "MY PRETTY GIRL" GOD WHEN 😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺

y/n you just had to outdo my caption huh.

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addisonraee yall are too cute pls stop

sabsyn THE HAND PLACEMENT IN THE SECOND PIC WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE. HAND. PLACEMENT.

ynschals imagine how many pics they have of each other on their phones that we'll never see... 😖

yourfriend no other guy could make her as happy as you, timmy!

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y/n idk if you know this but i love you

#timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothee imagine #timothee x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet social media au #timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet au #timothee chalamet smau #timothee chalamet instagram au

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trippinsorrows · 9 months ago

Text

looking through your eyes + twenty six

authors note: this chapter almost entirely covers grief. be prepared.

cw/tw: angst (discussion of grief and loss)

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

chapter suggested listening: "i hope you dance" by gladys knight, "lift me up" by rihanna, and "dancing in the sky" by dani and izzy.

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 9k

Solana still vividly remembers the moment she was told her mother was dead. Not the moment where Nina died, where she took her last breath. No, that devastating memory is forever attached and molded to Solana’s recollection, something to never escape her, despite her best efforts to dump it into the sea of the forgotten.

No, the moment she was told is something different, somehow colder and heavier.

She can still recall the sound of beeping machines, blurry, amorphous figures melting into something less abstract and more corporeal. The smell of nothing, sterilization that was quickly permeated by the overwhelming scent of her father’s cologne.

For some reason, that was more prominent and noticeable than the tube down her throat, preventing her from clearly speaking. It didn’t stop her from trying though. Because even with her barely cognizant state, with the fact that she wasn’t still fully aware of where she was and what occurred, her focus was on one person.

Her mother.

That was the intended word, Solana’s muffled moans and groans, fighting against the tube. The pain that shot through her little body while trying to move it wasn’t enough to stop her from asking.

Mommy

It’s something that’s always sat with her. Influenced her in many ways.

It’s also something that helps her understand a fraction of what Roman is going through right now, the feelings he might be experiencing. Everyone is different. She knows this. But, she also knows the feeling of loss. Of feeling alone.

And she swore to him he would never be alone.

Fetu is gone, yes. But, he’ll always have her.

It's what she keeps in mind as she and Jimmy arrive at Fetu's place and move to enter.

Solana had a feeling she would be walking into a difficult scene, but she hadn’t the slightest clue the severity of said difficulty.

“Oh my God….”

It’s bedlam.

Chaos and destruction all around her from the minute she and Jimmy open the front door and walk in. Furniture turned upside down, shattered shards of glass littering the floor all over, dents and scuffs on the wall, indicating objects being thrown.

Solana even spots a few holes she can tell weren’t caused by objects.

They were caused by fists.

But while Jimmy stands beside her, face not hiding his shock and slight horror at what lies before them, Solana’s similar expression stems from a different space.

It stems from how devastated her husband must be right now to cause such destruction.

“I’ve gotta find him,” Solana says, swallowing and moving to maneuver past the glass when a cautious but firm hand grabs her arm.

“Solana, let me find him.”

She doesn’t need an explanation as to why this is being proposed. The answer is written in red lettered concern all over his face.

She shakes her head. “No.”

Jimmy sighs, dropping his hand to gesture to the wreckage around them. “Solana….look at what he did.” She has. Hard not to. “He’s clearly not in a good place right now.”

“Would you be?” She challenges. “Put yourself in his shoes, Jimmy. In my shoes.” Voice breaking, she discloses. “You don’t know what it’s like to unexpectedly lose the one person who meant the world to you….and to not be able to say goodbye.” Solana sniffles, forcing out a shaky breath. “I know what he’s feeling right now, which is how I know what he needs, and it’s not you.”

Jimmy is silent. A small part of her understands and appreciates his concern, but he has to understand her side of things too.

Roman may be his cousin, lifelong friend, borderline brother.

But, Roman is her husband. Her person. Her better half.

Her soulmate.

“I’ll be fine,” she reassures, reaching for his hand. “What I need you to do is find Ava.” She motions to the destroyed room. "We don’t know if she was part of this as well.” Because despite only one meeting, Solana can tell that Ava has a strong personality just like Roman. Loved Fetu just as much as Roman.

She has to be just as distraught.

Jimmy counters, “let me try to clean some of this up first.”

“No.” Solana shakes her head. “I can handle that.” Because cleaning up after men following outbursts is something, sadly, she has plenty of experience with. Countless times her father and brother would destroy rooms and force her to clean up their mess. So, certainly, she can do the same for a man whose actions are fueled not by rage.

But pain.

Loss.

Grief.

Especially when that man is her husband.

“Solana—”

“And I—I want you to leave after that.” His eyes double in size, prompting her to explain. “Roman…..he’s gonna need some time. I don’t….I don’t think he’s going to want to be around anyone, even you.” Maybe even me. “I want to give him what he needs.”

“Solana—”

“I’ll be fine, Jimmy.” There’s not an ounce of her that believes she won’t. “I just need you to find Ava. Help her. And get back home, because I need you to keep Dulce for us.” She swallows, adding in a small voice. “He’s gonna need a couple days.”

More than that. Much more. But for now, it’ll have to do.

Jimmy still looks unconvinced.

But, he eventually agrees, leaving to find Ava who had sent a vague text saying she needed air.

Nothing more.

It's how both Jimmy and herself suspect she's gone for a walk in the surrounding woods.

And as soon as he's gone, Solana is on the move, instantly going up the stairs.

Each step taken feels like there’s a ton of bricks attached, weighing her down, pulling her back and trying to keep her from exactly where she needs to be. It’s all mental and emotional, but it’s not enough to keep her from pressing forward.

She passes Fetu’s room without sparing a glance, both for her own mental sake and knowing that’s the last place he’d probably be. His room would seem the most logical place to start to look, but she also knows that when one is deep in the throes of grief, there is no place for logic.

So, she goes through each room, bypassing the bathrooms and Ava’s bedroom. Again, another place she just can’t picture him being.

It eventually leaves her with two options: the last guest room and his room. Given the cracked door for the latter, that’s the route she chooses.

Solana’s heart is slamming repeatedly against her chest, her eyes watering prematurely at what she knows will be a heavy ass sight. But still, she powers through those emotions, bypasses her own personal sentiments and focuses on him.

A gentle knock followed up with, “Roman?” Nothing. She’s not surprised, but she at least would like him to know it’s her about to enter and not someone else. Something tells her his reaction would be different—very different—if anyone else was trying to “disturb” him right now.

Solana gently turns the knob, partially unsurprised to also find the room in a slight state of disarray. Not nearly as bad as the living room and entrance but still indicative of turmoil.

A lamp lays shattered near the door to the bathroom, a picture knocked off the wall, the TV also down on the floor. Nothing major beyond that, but even if so, it wouldn’t capture much—or any—of her focus. No, that’s because it’s already spoken for.

“Roman….”

She sees him. Slumped on the floor, one long leg outstretched, other leg up, extend arm resting on his knee. Closing the door behind her, she rushes over to him, again unsurprised by how he doesn’t even bother looking in her direction.

Instantly, those watery eyes are upgraded to silent tears streaming down her face. “Ro…..” Carefully leaning down beside him, she finds herself reaching to push back some of his hair that’s not neatly tucked into his everyday bun but instead wild, hanging, unruly.

A perfect representation of what he must be feeling.

She shakes her head, “I’m so so—”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

There’s not a part of her that’s taken back by his words: hollow, empty, stoic. If anything, it’s expected.

She expected this kind of reaction to her presence.

Shaking her head, Solana keeps her voice leveled. “I’m exactly where I should be.” Her gaze travels to his hand, a small gasp leaving at the blusied, lacerated, bloody state of his knuckles. “Roman—”

“I want to be alone.”

Another emotionless statement, forcing her to look back at him. He looks shattered, but in a way that makes sense for him. No red, teary, puffy eyes. No. Just an empty look that hides an abundance of emotions.

Solana makes sure not to stutter, stammer, or anything of the sort as she calmly replies, “I’m not leaving you alone.”

He closes his eyes, his jaw ticking, a sign of growing anger. It doesn’t deter her. “Solana, I want to be alone.”

“Roman—”

“I said leave!”

Silence

There’s a burst of silence that washes over the room following his outburst: loud, frigid, pained.

It’s been some time since he’s raised his voice with her, and the last time, her reaction was typical for where she was at that point. Scared, frightened, terrified even.

None of that could even remotely describe what she’s feeling right now.

Solana has no reaction to his outburst. No flinching, no cowering, no wincing. Nothing.

“No, you don’t.” A closed, sullen smile as she moves a lock of his hair back out of his face. “You just don’t want to feel what you’re feeling. You’re angry and hurt and sad and confused and so many things you probably don’t even understand, because….because that’s what grief is.”

He says nothing, offers not outward reaction to her words.

“I’m gonna say this one time and one time only.” She’s never been more sure about something in her life. “You can yell at me, you can scream at me, you can throw shit in my presence, you can even flip over every piece of furniture in this house, but I am not leaving. You may want to be alone, but you don’t need to be alone.” Pushing back more of his hair, it’s not missed on her the way he clenches his jaw. Not from anger. Something else. Something vulnerable. “I’m gonna clean and wrap up your hand, then I’m going to clean up downstairs and cook. I won’t talk to you unless you initiate it, and I won’t force you to interact with me. You can ignore me all you want, but as long as you’re here, I’m here.” Her voice cracks as she stresses, “I’m not leaving you.”

Roman continues to remain silent following her heartfelt explanation, but it doesn’t bother her. None of what he’s done, what he’s said or not said bothers her, because right now, whatever he’s feeling is valid.

“I’ll be right back,” she murmurs. Solana walks over to the bathroom and pulls out the first aid kit from the cabinet, returning to her husband who hasn’t moved. Silently, she works to disinfect and tend to his injuries. It’s not horrifically bad, but it’s not good, either. She’s unsure if Roman flexes his fingers to show nothing is fractured, but regardless, it’s appreciated and checks off a box without her needing to ask any questions.

Once finished, she informs, “I’m gonna go start cleaning up. Afterwards, I’ll fix you something to eat. I’ll have your plate on the table and text you when it’s ready. I’ll eat elsewhere.”

Roman continues to offer no sign that he’s listening to a word she’s saying. Still, it does nothing to deter her. Kissing his forehead, she returns the first aid kit to where she found it and walks out the room, leaving the door slightly cracked.

Solana walks back downstairs and stops midway to survey the damage around her. A lot is ruined beyond repair, but her focus is less on what was broken and more on ridding the place of the hazards. Starting with the broken glass.

Remembering where the cleaning supplies are kept, Solana carefully maneuvers her way across the floor and grabs the broom and dust pan. Wordlessly, she moves to clear the floor, dumping the shards into the nearest trash can. For extra protection, she vacuums the floor twice to suck up any remaining pieces.

Following that, she goes to put back unbroken items where they belong. Pillows back on the sofa. A sofa that she had to tip over. Books back on the shelf. Pictures that once belonged in now broken picture frames on the coffee table. And the items of irreparable damage dumped in both the kitchen bin as well as the big bin out back.

It’s about half an hour of work, significantly less time than most people would need, but this isn’t Solana’s first rodeo.

She’s seen this movie before.

Is very familiar with how it plays out.

She’s about to start on the food when the sound of a door opening pulls her from searching the fridge to see what she can put together.

Turning and walking towards the front door, Solana is already moving towards a despondent Ava, pulling her into a comforting hug.

Ava sniffles into her shoulder, Solana’s eyes closing as she feels Jimmy’s sad gaze on them.

“I’m so sorry,” Solana whispers, holding her tighter. This is such a devastating loss on all fronts, and while he heart breaks for Roman not being able to see Fetu before she passed, Ava was the one who probably sat with her as she took her last breath.

Solana also knows how equally devastating that can be as well.

“Thank you for being here,” Ava murmurs, eventually pulling back and wiping her eyes. “And for….cleaning up.” She lazily gestures to the room that’s still not together but much better than it was.

Solana nods, taking Ava’s hand. “I was going to cook. Why don’t you—”

“Thank you, but—” Ava offers a small smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. “I can’t—I can’t stay here.” Her lips press together as she shrugs with one shoulder. “Too many memories.” Solana also understands that. Understands it well. “I have an apartment out in town. I’m gonna—I’m gonna go stay there for a couple days, at least until–until the funeral.”

Funeral……

Solana doesn’t want to think about that.

“Of course,” she nods. “But, if you need anything—”

“I know.” Another smile. One that more so meets the eyes. Comes from a place of gratitude. She then gestures up the stairs. “But, he’s going to need you more.”

————

It’s difficult.

For many different reasons. Solana trying to process her own grief while wanting to support and be there for Roman, while he works through his own. And while Solana logically knows that Roman icing her out, to some extent, should be expected, it doesn’t make it any easier.

Doesn’t hurt her any less to know he’s hurting but won’t let her help him.

But, she also knows she made that an option for him, and she doesn’t regret it. Nothing could stop her from being exactly where she is, even if Roman hasn’t said a word to her since her arrival almost three days prior.

Occasional glances and head nods, but nothing verbal. That also hurts, but she doesn’t take it personally. Knows that he’s just weighed down by everything that’s happened.

She just continues to do what she can, prepare his meals that he eats alone, handles cleaning and laundry as he seems to spend the bulk of his days in the home gym or outside on ruins. A lot of avoidance behavior. But, she’s starting to see that’s maybe just how Roman copes.

He doesn’t. He just avoids shit until it “goes away.”

But this….this isn’t something to avoid, something that will go away.

He’s going to have to confront his emotions sooner or later.

Solana shifts on the bed in the guest room. The room where she’s been sleeping, already knowing that if Roman can’t even bring himself to interact with her, the likelihood of him wanting them to sleep in the same bed is slim to none.

Another thing that’s hard.

She’s just gotten so used to sleeping in his arms, but that’s a thought that’s much too self-focused. Her needs matter, but so do his, and right now, he’s not able to provide her that.

And that’s okay, because he’s not okay.

She just wishes she could do something to help that.

Her phone lighting up with Dr. Stratus smiling face is a nice distraction. “Solana.”

“Hi, doc,” she greets, shifting on the bed. “Thank you for—for making time for this.”

“It sounded important,” her psychiatrist's grin shifts into more of a frown. “And judging by how sad you look right now, I bet it is.” She directly asks, “what’s going on?”

So much. Too much to even fully unpack. “Roman’s…..had a loss in his family recently, and it’s….it’s hit us all pretty hard.” Him, arguably, the most, but also, her meeting and connecting with someone as much as she did with Fetu only to lose her so quickly…..it’s rough.

To say the least.

Dr. Stratus frowns. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” Solana already knows the question before it’s asked. “You know I have to ask. Are you experiencing any type of ideation?”

“No.” An easy answer. “Not at all. Just….heavy emotions.” Extremely. “Part of that though…..is probably because I’m pregnant.”

A gasp. “Solana.” Again, Dr. Stratus is smiling, still not as deep as her initial grin. But filled with excitement. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Solana sniffles, wiping at her eyes. “I’m sorry, I just—” She’s unable to catch the tear that spills down her cheek. “I still haven’t told Roman, and—and now that this has happened, I don’t even know how I’m supposed to tell him.”

Because that’s the other noxious thing about all of this. How wonderful, life-changing news has been tabled by horrible, also life-changing news.

In no universe can Solana understand and come to terms with how telling Roman about her pregnancy is appropriate. How is he to celebrate life when he’s just lost it?

It’s just all so terribly cruel.

Solana clears her throat. “I went to Roman’s doctor to do the test for me, and it came back positive, but he’s also certain that we’re having twins.”

“Oh, wow,” Dr. Stratus sighs, sympathy written all over her face. “Solana, I can’t imagine how difficult and confusing this must be for you right now.”

Solana whispers, “very.”

“Have you….have you spoken to Gail about this?”

She shakes her head. “No, because…..because it feels wrong—it is wrong—to keep telling people when my own husband doesn’t even know.”

Because it does. Because in a perfect world, she would have come up with a sweet and sentimental manner in which to break said news to him. Instead, she’s having to hide it from everyone around her—including him—sans the medical professionals she needs to know for various medical reasons.

“I understand.” Her voice is kind and calm, a constant. So very much appreciated. “But, you know, like myself, Gail is bound to confidentiality. As your therapist, she can help support you through this on the clinical side.”

“I know, but….but, I signed that paper allowing her to speak to Roman.” A full release of information. Solana knew what it was when she consented and still does now.

“That doesn’t matter,” she counters. “You can revoke it any time, or even if you want to discuss it and make it clear she’s not to share that with him, you can. You are her client. Not Roman. Her responsibility is to you.”

Solana sits on the helpful advice. She’d forgotten Gail had made that clear when explaining the ROI. That it wasn’t the end all, be all, allowing Roman to know anything and everything about her.

She might have to keep that in mind.

“So, I take it, you’ve only told me because of your medication, correct?” Solana nods. “Well, I wanna keep you with the Sertraline and Hydroxyzine. We could probably keep you on the Wellbutrin as well, but with a multiples pregnancy, I don’t want any take any risks.” She goes on to explain the plan, the way Solana is to taper off one medication to start another. Solana takes notes to avoid missing anything and makes sure to let the other woman know she probably won’t be home for a couple days. Thus, the switch won’t be immediate.

That’s another thing that alerts Solana to how low her husband must be feeling. He hasn’t realized or either maybe just feels too down to even be on top of her medication. She’s been giving it to herself, which is something she’d like to become a regular thing. But, Roman not being as strict about it is yet another telltale.

A strong indication of his continuing mental decline.

Another thing for her to worry about, and God is she worried.

————

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean

Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens

Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

Sniffling, Solana pauses the music, unable to listen to anymore.

Fetu’s smiling voice and cheery voice suddenly fill the room, returning to her along with a bittersweet memory.

“Such a beautiful song. One of my favorites,” she’d shared, guiding Solana through a traditional Samoan recipe. “You want to know my favorite line?”

Solana nodded, smiling as she continued to peel the potatoes. “Of course.”

She waited for Fetu to turn down the music before she recited the lines. “Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder where those years have gone. I hope you dance.” Solana watched the almost solemn look in her eyes before the older woman smiled warmly. “Life is such a precious thing. We all have such limited time here in the grand scheme of things. In the good and the bad, we must always dance and find something beautiful to look back at.”

Solana’s tears intensify, still remembering, feeling the exact emotion she felt in that moment. So profound and moving.

She’d give anything to have just one more type of interaction or conversation with Fetu again.

Even if…..

Even if just to tell her about the pregnancy.

That makes her cry harder.

It takes a good twenty minutes for Solana to gather herself, to feel ready enough to check on Roman, to see if he needs anything before she goes to bed.

Day five of his grieving has arrived, and he’s still not spoken to her. It still hurts, but it’s not a major concern.

What is a concern is everything else. His isolation. His helplessness. His sadness.

Solana knows better than anyone else what a depressive episode looks like, and the last thing she wants is to see him slip into one of those.

But, if he doesn’t stop shoving his feelings away, shutting down and dissociating…..that might be where he’s headed.

Solana bypasses knocking on his door as it’s partially ajar. She instead walks in only to find the balcony door also open, Roman, shirtless, sitting on the chair, staring at absolutely nothing.

She frowns.

It kills her to see him like this.

Walking over to him, she stands just close enough for him to hear. “Ro? I’m going to bed. Do—do you need anything?”

His response is as the rest have been. Nonverbal. He simply shakes his head no.

She’s grateful he can’t see the disappointment in her face. “Okay.” Dejected and deterred, Solana turns to leave and return to her room.

“I didn’t come see her enough.”

Solana stops dead in her tracks as his deep voice penetrates the silence. For a quick second, she doesn’t trust it. Doesn’t trust her own hearing, because Roman hasn’t said a word to her in days. And yet…..

She turns toward him, realizing that her hearing isn’t needing testing when it happens again. He speaks. “I should have—I should have listened to you.” Solana walks so that she’s standing in front of him, where she’s partially eclipsed his view of the dark forest and sky that’s littered with a blanket of stars. “I should have—” He closes his eyes, as Solana kneels down in front of him.

“Please don’t do that,” she begs, shaking her head, taking his hands in hers. His right hand has healed nicely following her tending to it at least once a day since he messed it up. “Please don’t blame yourself. She wouldn’t want that.”

Studying him, Solana is realizing this is the most expressive Roman has been in days. She could feel his grief before, but she can actually see it now. “She knew you loved her, Roman. And she loved you, too.”

“It wasn’t fucking enough though.” The anger is rising again, but it doesn’t deter or scare her, just makes her heart ache. Because she knows it’s just a cover-up for an abundance of sadness. “Never enough.” Her heart fractures even more as he says in a pained, tortured voice. “I wasn’t enough for her….to stay. Not—not her. Not my parents. My uncle. My siblings. None of them.”

And it’s really not until this moment Solana has truly known what it means to see the person you love the most break down before you.

This is a completely different side of her husband.

This is vulnerability.

“Ro…..” Fingers raking through some of his hair, she does her best to find any words that could provide him some type of comfort, all while knowing nothing can ever really take away his pain. “Baby, you are enough.” More than enough. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

He looks away, clearly distraught. “I couldn’t save her this time.” Her eyes shut. This is heartbreaking. “I didn’t…..I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Solana’s chest aches. Tears brimming in her eyes, she stands up. “Come here.” She doesn’t even have to try to embrace him. Roman already has his arms around her, tugging her closer as he lays his head against her stomach.

It takes a second for it to register, for her to recognize there’s a slight tremble of his body against hers. For her to understand why his grip on her seems to tighten by the second. He’s holding her so tightly.

And, it’s when she hears it that it registers.

It’s when she hears the quiet sniffles that it hits her like a ton of bricks.

He’s crying.

Another brief second of shock that’s quickly washed away by her natural instinct to nurture and protect.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmurs, holding him, kissing the top of his head. “Baby, I am so so sorry.”

For one thing and one thing only. His loss. What Fetu’s death has done to him, how it has impacted him so deeply. What’s she’s not sorry for is this long awaited breakdown of sorts. Roman has needed this. Needed it for so long. To finally breakdown and feel his feelings, and while she knows better than anyone how uncomfortable and overwhelming that can be, it’s also inevitable.

This was bound to happen.

She’s just grateful she can be here to support him through this.

The way she always will.

————

Roman’s breakdown proved to be the catalyst. The thing that helped progress him from this almost stoic state of dissociation to a state of feeling and being. He’s actually talked to and with her. More interaction that doesn’t feel forced, almost natural. What she’s used to. To some degree, because he’s still sad. Of course, he’s sad. Still grieving. All normal.

But, he’s no longer icing her out, and that’s all that matters to her.

So much so that he’s continued to accept her nurturance and affection. Welcomes it. Craves it, almost. The way he’s welcomed her back into the bedroom, sleeps at night practically on top of her, head on her chest as she rakes her fingers through his hair. The way he pulls her onto his lap as they eat. It’s all so subtle but also loud. The kind of love and support he’s clearly needing, and she gives it all to him.

Whatever he needs, she’ll do.

Solana presses a kiss to his temple and runs her fingers along his broad shoulders as he lays back, almost relaxed against her, the bubbles surrounding them covering the majority of their bodies, warm water infused with lavender and chamomile contributing to the serene atmosphere she was aiming for.

A goal that seems to be working based upon how at ease he feels against her, the leaking of the tension from his big body.

“I’m gonna drive tomorrow,” Solana informs. Because Roman’s emergence from his dark hole has also meant reintegration into reality and society. Over the past two days, she’s overheard him taking phone calls, some in English, some in Samoan. And from what she could make of these calls is that they were pertaining to funeral arrangements for Fetu.

Clearly, as the funeral is set to be held this upcoming Sunday.

She has such mixed feelings on that. On how hard that’s going to be for her husband.

But, one thing at a time.

“I can drive,” he answers, eyes still closed.

Sighing quietly, she angles her head so that she has a better view of his face. “I said I’m gonna drive.” At that, Roman opens his eyes, clearly taken back by her calm but firm push back. Frowning, she strokes his beard. “I want you to rest.”

Because, she does. Because he’s going to need it. Because in this space for the past week, he’s been able to just be. Be angry. Be hurt. Be sad. Be anything he needs to just be a human freaking being.

But, once they’re back home, all of that has to be turned off. He won’t have the space to be anything but the Tribal Chief and not a man just grieving a very important person.

So, she wants him to have as much time dwelling in this safe space as possible, and that includes being able to relax while she gets them back home.

“Besides, I haven't done it in so long, I need to make sure I still remember.” Being chauffeured quite literally everywhere has entirely deprived Solana of the need to have a car of her own but also to actually, well, drive.

Roman scoffs quietly. “That’s reassuring.”

Rolling her eyes, she flicks his shoulder and murmurs with a small smile, “shut up.”

He does, but it’s only in preparation for what comes next. “Thank you.”

She has a feeling what he’s referring to, but assumptions have rarely done society any good. “For?”

His reply is instant. “All of it.”

Comfort. It’s something she’s clearly been providing him but something he’s always provided her.

Solana moves her hands down his chest and across his shoulders, mouth against his temple. “I’d do anything for you…..” Because she would. Anything at all. “Anything you need, just tell me, I’ll do it.”

He’s done so much for her. Supported her through some of her darkest, lowest moments. The least she can do is return the favor.

Solana watches him sit up, never takes her eyes off him as he adjusts himself so he’s facing her, gently pulling her so she’s almost straddling him. The movement creating a ripple of waves that brushes against their conjoined bodies. Her wet hands move to his face as his move up her damp back.

“I just need you.” It could mean a lot of things, could refer to many of the things she’s done with and for him over the past week. But, that look in his eyes, the way his still solemn gaze drops to her chest, how his hands are moving to her hips, she knows exactly just how he needs her right now.

Solana reaches past him to turn the knob to start draining the tub before ghosting her lips over his, murmuring, “so take me.”

————

Being back in their home is an experience. A bit of a tease, really. Because while it’s nice to be in her house, with Dulce who seems to stay by Roman’s side, clearly sensing his grief, it’s also bittersweet.

Because it doesn’t change what’s happened. Doesn’t make the feelings of sadness go away.

Doesn’t stop Solana from thinking about the letter Fetu gave her, from trying to figure out if it’s the right time to give it to him.

A dilemma that haunts her in the days leading up to the funeral as she works to support and be there for her husband while also managing her own pregnancy symptoms that seem to pop up at the most inconvenient times.

It’s only by the grace of God that Roman hasn’t walked in on her hunched over the toilet, emptying her stomach from any and all food consumed. An irritating occurrence that seems to happen when she’s trying to cook.

She's definitely noticed an increased sensitivity to certain smells. Spices and seasoning that have always been staples in her cooking shelved due to her literally unable to tolerate the nausea that they cause her to experience just from the aroma alone.

Irritating, to say the least.

But, it’s the morning of the actual funeral that has her anxiety spiked, her concern at a naturally high baseline level. All things considered, she just has to focus on being there for Roman. Whatever that looks like.

Still, it’s heavy and sad and just gut-wrenching.

Just about ready, only needing to slide her sandals on after letting Dulce outside to relieve herself, Solana decides to check on Roman.

She finds him sitting on the edge of their bed. Like herself, he’s already dressed. A white, short sleeved button up shirt accompanied by a skirt-like wrap with tribal designs. A lavalava, according to Ava with leather sandals.

She’s certain he heard her walk in, but he remains sitting, head down, ula fala on the bed beside him. Gently closing the door behind her, Solana walks over, partially surprised by how he reaches for her. Hands on her hips, her eyes never leave him as he lifts his head, clearly taking in her outfit. There’s a moment of anxiety under his intense gaze.

It’s easily squashed, however, when he says in a low voice, “you look beautiful.”

His compliment is so appreciated, especially when she thinks about his ability to still balance his grief while also making her feel so special. “Thank you.”

Solana moves her hands to the back of his head as he holds onto her, resting his head against her stomach. “I don’t want to do this.” Her eyes shut. She knows he doesn’t. “But, I have to.”

And that’s the part that kills her. That so much of handling this falls on his shoulders, is his responsibility because of his title. It kills her because it deprives him of just being able to grieve.

“I know, baby,” she comforts, gently stroking the back of his neck. “But, you don’t have to do it alone.”

She feels it. The heavy sigh against her. A sign of a semblance of relief. She’ll take that. She’ll offer that in any way that she can.

Roman sits back up, Solana watching him stand before her. Reaching to his side, she’s careful in how she picks up the ula fala and holds it before him. “Can I…..”

He nods and dips his head, allowing her to place it upon him. Solana is mindful of the placement, remembering the exact place it’s always sat when she’s seen it on him. And when he straightens to his full height, she moves her hands to his chest and says, “I know that you have to be the Tribal Chief today, but when it’s all said and done, and everyone has left and it’s just you and me, all I want and need you to be is Roman….that’s it.”

Because Roman is a man grieving. Who needs to be able to freely feel his feelings.

Whether he wants to or not.

Solana nods and leans up to kiss his cheek before taking his hand in hers, reminding, “I’ve got you.”

He says nothing, only nods, but he doesn’t have to. She can see the appreciation—and love—in his gaze.

—-----

Solana has never actually attended a funeral before. By the time she woke up from her coma, Xavier already had her mother buried, depriving her of that formal goodbye.

So this is a first for her. Different. She quickly learns that death is something that is not necessarily seen as a bad thing in Samoan culture. Sad, yes, but the focus is on the celebration of life, which she started to figure based upon the white color scheme.

Given the nature of the situation, Solana is unsurprised by the small attendance. Roman’s preference, no doubt. Jimmy, Jey, and Rikishi are all expected guests, along with the preacher who officiates. However, it’s Paul and Dwayne who take her by surprise.

There’s a sense of gratitude, however, when they both hug Roman and offer their condolences. And she’s especially moved by the extended time taken with the hug from Dwayne, the way she can feel the empathy emanating from his tall frame.

She appreciates it deeply, and she knows that Roman does, too.

There are also a couple of other attendees that surprise her but not entirely, as they uphold what she would guess are Samoan traditions for funerals. Song and dance. Prayers.

It’s a beautiful send-off, one fitting for Roman’s eccentric aunt.

And almost the entire time, Solana remains by his side. Holding his hand or his arm, and if not in physical proximity, she always finds him, watching him. He is her number one concern.

All things considered, he holds himself together well, but that’s highly due to the mask he’s wearing. The strong resilience he’s displaying in terms of not giving away the true extent of his hurt. But, Solana feels it. Feels it deeply when it’s just the two of them standing in front of Fetu’s casket, the others already departed and readying to leave. She’s about to do the same, leave him to have some semblance of privacy, only for him to tighten his hand that’s tightly clasped with hers.

“Stay.”

A single, simple word. But, enough.

Solana nods, moving to hold onto his arm, standing quietly but supportively beside him.

As she always will.

It’s after that, unfortunately, that things go downhill.

Solana partially expected the twins to come over following the funeral. Ava as well. All three, however, expressed their desire to give Roman his space. And, it’s appreciated, because Solana also believes that to be the best.

For right now.

However, that sentiment is not shared by Dwayne, Paul, and Rikishi. And truly, the first of the three is no issue. He doesn’t ride in the limo, opting to drive himself back to the house.

But, it’s during that ride, for the first time since learning of Fetu’s passing, Solana feels anger.

Not even as part of the grieving process. No, she feels anger towards the two men who sit across from herself and Roman. She feels anger toward them because they haven’t even driven off yet when they’re throwing a bunch of work questions and situations at her husband.

Her husband who may look present, but she knows him well enough to know he’s not.

And given how long these two men have known Roman, she would have thought they could see the same.

Maybe they don’t.

Or, maybe they do and just don’t care. Either one pisses her off. Makes it hard for her to hold her tongue.

Shipments. Orders. Contracts. All logical things someone in Roman’s state shouldn’t be dealing with.

But, it’s exactly what they’re throwing at him.

Even as they arrive at the house, Dwayne taking a call out back, Paul and Rikishi barely have Roman sat down at their dining room table when they’re back at it.

“Orton wants to speak with you regarding re-negotiating the RKO proposal.”

“Stocks are looking good, but we need to start thinking about next quarter.”

“The Cartel are still interested in meeting. You need to make that happen ASAP.”

A bunch of irrelevant shit. Solana partially wants to stay outside with Dulce to avoid having to overhear it, but it’s impossible to not want to be present. To not feel the need to be present.

Just what more do they plan to throw at Roman?

Her husband is responding, being responsive, but she can see it, hear it. The difficulty he’s having.

And it has her nearly bursting at the seams, trying to focus on moving around the kitchen, early preparation for dinner, but it’s hard.

She’s given a chance though when Roman clears his throat and says something about changing before he stands up from the chair and starts to walk away.

Just like that, Solana knows this is her opportunity, her chance, and she has to take it.

Because, she’s disgusted.

It’s only when she’s certain that Roman is upstairs, fully out of hearing distance that she finds herself asking, “what is wrong with you two?”

Both men look at her with partially startled, mostly confused, expressions. Rikishi is the first to speak. “What?”

Solana scoffs and points toward the steps. “He just buried his aunt. Her body isn’t even cold in the ground, and you’re asking him about work?” She continues, throwing out almost angrily, “does he look like he needs to be working right now?”

There’s a bit of a standstill. Paul looks flustered, his cheeks turning red like a child being scolded by a parent. Rikishi, however, wears an almost blank expression. “You are not Samoan, therefore you do not understand our ways. We do not mourn like you do. We celebrate life.”

“Yeah, well he’s not in place to celeb—”

“Roman is the Tribal Chief. What he needs is irrelevant when it comes to the Bloodline.” Rikishi’s interruption—and his words—have her taken back. “He understands what his duty is.”

“His duty…..” It’s potentially a build up of things, sadness and grief, manifesting as anger. Regardless, it’s growing with each word that leaves this man’s mouth. “Has he not given enough? He does everything he’s supposed to do for the Bloodline—”

“Except provide an heir,” Rikishi’s voice is as icy as the cold look in his eyes. “Or would that be you failing at the one job you have?”

Paul’s eyes widen as looks at the man beside him. “Rikishi—”

It takes so much, so much for Solana to not shut him up, to not tell him that she’s pregnant, hoping that he spreads it to any and all who’ve given Roman a hard time about not having a child.

Because fuck them.

The chubby man lifts up his hand as he stands from his seat, rounding the corner of the table. “You are not Bloodline, so I’m not surprised you don’t know your place—”

“My place–” There’s not a single ounce of her wanting or willing to back down in this moment. “–is beside my husband.”

“Do not forget, girl, who put you in that position.” There’s an almost hint of disgust in the way the word ‘girl’ leaves his mouth. “You were nothing before him. Nothing but a punching bag for that pathetic father and brother—”

Solana has never considered herself a violent person, especially not someone who responds with violence. But, it’s almost instinct. Because one minute her hand is at her side, the next it’s colliding with Rikishi’s cheek, with an intensity that sends his head to the side.

And she doesn’t regret it one bit.

Finally aware of what’s just happened, Solana can only process the anger in his fat face and the way he lifts his hand toward her. Except instead of cowering, she prepares to block it.

But, she doesn’t have to.

Because someone else does.

Solana gasps quietly at Dwayne who stands beside, almost in front of her, protectively, holding Rikishi’s arm in an iron grip.

“I don’t think you want to do that,” he says with the perfect balance of lightness and seriousness. “Unless you want me to lay your candy ass out for breaking Bloodlines rules for putting your hands on a woman.”

Rikishi hisses and snatches his arm away. “She put her hands on me. I am an Elder.”

“I don’t give a damn who you are. You will not disrespect me in my house,” Solana swears. Never again will she allow any man to harm her, physically or verbally.

And that’s a promise.

Dwayne shrugs. “Sounds fair to me.” He then smiles, but there’s no trace of humor. “And like you said, she’s not one of us, so she doesn’t know our ways.”

Solana is surprised at that. How long has he been listening?

Paul suddenly steps forward, looking like he’s about to have a damn panic attack. “Clearly, there’s been some—”

“Get out.”

Solana’s interruption earns a variety of expressions ranging from surprisement, amusement and indignation.

Paul stutters. “I’m s-s-”

“I want you both out of my house.” There’s no stuttering on her end. “Now.”

While Paul looks confused between his friend and Dwayne, the latter chuckles, expressing, “I believe the wife of the Tribal Chief has made herself clear.” And just like that the smirk drops into a straight line as he orders, “leave.”

Paul doesn’t need to be told twice, the obese man hurriedly grabbing his papers with trembling hands. It’s Rikishi, however, whose gaze is now focused on her with borderline amusement.

He holds her stare, and she doesn’t dare look away. He will not intimidate her.

Paul is mumbling and murmuring to the other man about needing to leave, something about coming back later, but again, he’s silenced by Rikishi.

“Well played, girl. Well played.”

Rikishi turns to walk away when Solana finds herself stepping past Dwayne. “My name is Solana. Solana Reigns. The wife of your Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns, and you will address me as such.”

Paul looks like he’s seen a ghost, like he’s seconds away from pissing himself. Rikishi just stares with a cold smile, one that doesn’t prevent or scare her from continuing.

“And if you ever raise your hand to me again.” she steps forward, invading his personal space the same way he invaded hers. “Just know that I don’t need my husband to kick your ass.” There’s an almost snarl to her lip as she vows, “I can do it myself.”

Because she can. Because if she can put her brother, someone who terrorized and literally tortured her for years in the ICU, she can certainly do it to the rotund man before her.

He doesn’t say anything else, just turns on his heel and leaves out with Paul, but Solana knows better. Recognizes that look. Has seen it before. Knows what it means.

This isn’t over.

And yet, there’s not a part of her that’s nervous, that feels scared or even upset with herself at how she responded.

Because she’s spent years being hurt and disrespected by men. No more.

Not for herself but also for the children growing in her stomach. Children that she strongly believes to be girls. Solana would soon rather die than have anyone treat her daughters the way she’s been treated.

And she knows Roman would and will feel the same.

So, it starts now. The demanding of respect that she’s always deserved.

Regardless of who her husband is.

Dwayne steps forward, gentle hand on her shoulder. “You alright?” Before she can answer, he informs, “I’ll make sure Roman knows about—”

“No,” she interrupts and shakes her head. “I mean, I’m okay, but I don’t want you telling him. He…..he has enough on his plate.” And the last thing she wants is anything else being added to it.

Dwayne frowns. “I don’t disagree with you, but as the faletua—”

Now she’s the one frowning. “The what?”

“Faletua,” he says it slower, offering and explanation. “It means the wife of the Tribal Chief.”

Solana is temporarily taken back by that. She never knew there was a direct word for who she is to Roman. For what she is to the Bloodline.

It’s…..surprising, to say the least.

“Speaking to you the way he did was unacceptable, but going to hit you?” He shakes his head. “Thought he would have learned that shit don’t fly with us by now.”

Curious, Solana crosses her arms and finds herself asking, “what do you mean?”

Dwayne seems a bit reluctant at first, eventually lowering his voice and offering an explanation. “Look, I’m 13 years older than Roman and Rikishi’s twins, so they were too young or not even born to have been around Rikishi when he was a piece of fucking work. Hothead. Impulsive. Used to beat on his wife. Always felt like he should have been the Tribal Chief. Nakoa, Roman’s dad, eventually had to give him an ultimatum: he get some help and straighten the fuck out or he and his entire family would be ex-communicated from the Bloodline.”

Solana hears the word coming out of this man’s mouth, but it’s difficult for her to process said words. Everything seems so…..unbelievable, like it can’t be true. Like the biological father of Jimmy and Jey, who have become like brothers to her, could be the sons of someone so…..vile.

Someone abusive.

Dwayne continues, “he’d calmed down a lot by the time Roman and the twins were born, so they don’t really know much about it. How bad it was, at least.” He then adds over a dark chuckle, “that’s where Jey gets his temper from. His old man.”

Solana has a lot to think on, but she also has many questions, too. Obviously, Rikishi’s behavior hasn’t been a problem for some time. Yes, there was today’s incident, but Solana thinks she knows her husband well enough to know he wouldn’t put up with any bullshit.

So perhaps today was just a one-off? Fetu was his relative as well, so there’s a good chance his grief is presenting as irritation similar to how Roman’s presented as anger.

And yet…..

There’s this small, nagging part of her that doesn’t believe that. Believes that there’s more at play than what meets the eye.

Is starting to wonder if she now knows who Fetu was talking about when she said she told her brother, Nakoa, not to trust him.

Shaking her head, Solana redirects her focus to the conversation at hand. “Thank you.” Because she’s grateful for this man that she doesn’t know very well but believes to be a good person. Someone who’s good for her husband. “I—I’ll talk to Roman about what happened.” And she will……just sans some details.

He doesn’t need to know everything.

It’ll only put more stress on him, and he doesn’t need that.

Dwayne seems unconvinced, but he doesn’t argue. “If that’s what you prefer.”

“It is,” she answers. Switching gears a bit, Solana lowers her voice, sharing, “and thank you for being here…..for him.”

It’s not missed upon her the sad countenance that appears on his handsome face. “Gotta be honest with you, when I got the call, I was shocked. If I had known she was still……” Dwayne sighs and runs his hand over his face. “I understand why he kept it a secret. She….she meant a lot to him.”

More than you could ever know. “I know,” Solana whispers. The realization that Roman should have been back by now causes her to clear her throat. “I should probably go check on him.”

Dwayne nods. “I should probably get going anyway.”

Solana goes to protest, not wanting him to feel uninvited. “Oh no, you don’t—”

“You were right to tell them to leave,” he interrupts, gesturing to the steps. “He does need time.”

Solana says nothing, though feels immensely grateful to have someone who also recognizes that Roman is just a human being who just needs to feel and grieve instead of this machine that can just keep moving like clockwork.

Solana again thanks him for attending and his overall support before seeing him out the door and moving up the steps to check on her husband.

“Ro?” Opening the door to their bedroom, she's partially surprised to find Roman still sitting on the edge of the bed, clothes unchanged outside of the ula fala that lays on the dresser.

He turns to her as she closes the door behind her and walks over to him. “I just….I need a minute.”

Moving in between his legs, she informs, “it’s okay. They’re gone now.”

At that, he looks at her with a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

“Dwayne left on his own, but I made Paul and Rikishi leave.” And before he can say anything, she’s explaining, “I understand there’s things you need to get done, get caught up on, but the Bloodline can survive another day without you taking charge.” She sighs and cups his face, reminding him, “today was a lot for you. The least you can do is take the rest of it to just….be.”

She’s partially expecting him to push back, maybe even some irritation for her “speaking” on his behalf only for him to ask, “how did they take it?”

Shit. She wants to lie, feels like it would be an easy short term thing and maybe it would. But, the fact that she’s already keeping this pregnancy from him is more than enough secrecy for her.

“Paul seemed more scared than anything. Rikishi….he didn’t like it, but Dwayne backed me, so it was fine.”

A flash of anger appears in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter if he likes it or not. If you say something, he needs to fucking do it.” And this is what she wanted to avoid. Him getting upset when he doesn’t need to. “I’ll handle it.”

Solana shakes her head. “That’s not important right now.” Because it really isn’t. Especially since she’s already handled it. “Why don’t you change? Lay down. I’ll fix you something to eat. If I start now, I can have it ready by—”

She’s stopped by Roman reaching her for her, his hands on her waist as he says so quietly, “stay with me.”

It’s such a quiet, little thing, but it’s something he’s wanting.

Something he’s needing. Thus, the answer is obvious.

Solana nods and reaches for the middle of her skirt, hiking it up enough so that she can climb on top of his lap. Roman moves them back on the bed as she lays on top of him, snuggling herself into his chest as he wraps his arms around her, holding her.

“Thank you,” he says after kissing the top of her head. The vulnerability in his voice is aligned what she’s seen and heard in him off and on all week. “I don’t…..I don’t know if I could have handled with this without you.”

His words cause chills to sprout up her spine. Another thing she can relate to. The loss of her mother was something she once thought she would never recover from, largely because she had to deal with it alone.

But, Roman isn’t alone.

And, he never will be again.

Holding him a bit tighter, she promises, voice clear and firm, “you’re gonna be okay, Roman."

And, he is.

She’s going to make sure of it.

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

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twiishaa · 1 month ago

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𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋‎♪ what you want t.oikawa x reader , comfort approx 650 words warnings i think it deteriorates pretty quickly also this is very much based on me

content you feel insecure about your future and begin to wonder how your boyfriend can follow his passion so fearlessly.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 “SAY, tooru,” you begin to ask the brunette boy in front of you. he stops walking and turns back to look at you. there they were again– his intense eyes always make you dizzy. it must be nice, you wonder for a second before carrying on.

“you’re going to go pro, aren’t you? ��with volleyball, i mean. when you graduate?” the clauses were all mixed up and oikawa took a second to process the question before answering.

“i am, yeah– was there something wrong?” he asks in response. the evening breeze blows through your hair. it makes you look ethereal, he thinks. but there’s something else in your expression– he can tell. it’s bittersweet, and pensive.

“no! nothing wrong!” you exclaim quickly. “just thinking, it must be nice to have your heart dead set on something, and know what you’re doing. i really wish i had the guts to follow my dreams like that…” your voice trails off in something like fear, but not quite. i’ve said too much, you think quickly– you’d never bared your feelings like this before. oikawa, your boyfriend, looks… surprised? suddenly the calm evening breeze feels bitter, seeping through your skin. oikawa jogs to where you are, and clasps your hands between his.

“oh, baby,” oikawa says, a half-whisper, warm unlike the air around him. the amount of feeling spilling out from those two words made your heart ache, tears beginning to build up.

oikawa knew exactly what you meant– something was off with you ever since you handed in your career form. why didn’t he figure it out earlier? holding you in a tight hug, his warmth surrounding you, he asks again, “have you been thinking about this for a while?”

you don’t want to tell him the truth– you know it’ll hurt him. you know it’ll confirm his fears– that you’ve been jealous of your own boyfriend– envying his courage and ability to follow his dreams without any fears. but you can’t hide it anymore. softly, you nod.

oikawa knows what that means. he’s angry– not at you– at himself, because he didn’t figure it out earlier. but quickly, he looks at you, crying in his arms– and the evening breeze goes from cold to unbearable.

oikawa can tell you’re scared, more than anything. “hey, just because i’m going pro, doesn’t mean i’m not scared. i worry every night– that i’m not going to make it.”

“you’re talented though, tooru– you’ll definitely make it,” you whisper into his shoulder. he chuckles at your response. “that’s exactly what i think of you too, baby.”

the familiar scent of oikawa’s cologne grounds you. after a pause, you whisper carefully, as if sharing a secret– in a sense it was, something you’d held close to your heart forever; but you were certain oikawa would understand.

“a singer.” the collection of vinyls in your room makes sense now, oikawa thinks to himself– so did the tiktoks you reposted of covers of your favourite songs. there were little clues along the way– a smile gently washes over his face. “i think you’d be an amazing singer,” he whispers genuinely; voice so full of love it was about to burst at its seams.

other than volleyball– maybe even more than it, this is what oikawa dreamt about the most– being able to be vulnerable with someone else. no one else saw you like he did, and he took pride in it. maybe it made him a selfish person– he didn’t care; all that mattered to him was you.

heartbeat ringing in your ears, you feel light. the ‘childish’ dream you’ve had since you were five begins to feel a little real on this dimly lit road– and all it took was whispering it to the person you treasured the most.

you look up at oikawa. now, you meet his eyes full of determination with yours, a hidden passion slowly starting to emerge, colouring your irises brighter than ever before. “can i go and change my career form?” you ask, giggling.

“of course.” oikawa grabs hold of your hand and starts running back to school, the breeze warming up as the evening gives way.

note this is your sign to follow your dreams💞 i've been having this crisis in my head for so long

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ like what you read? here’s the masterlist! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

#oikawa x reader #twisha's an author💌#haikyuu #hq x reader #tooru oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa x you #hq oikawa #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu oikawa

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sims3fiend · 10 months ago

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Some dumb sims 3 updates/stuf

Or, how to develop severe brain damage in 10 easy steps.

Sooo… This is going to be more of a blog post than anything of any real substance, more of a whinge with maybe a few teasers for some stuff I may or may not release (probably not). Feel free to skip if you're after hot tips or coherent writing.

Stutter "fixer"

Sooooo…. The sims 3 has some stutter issueeesss… Incredible discovery, I know! I started looking at remedying them with settings, found some hidden settings that help reduce some of the issues but that can only do so much when the game was made in 2009 for 2009 computers.

So I had a looky at some things I thought could be causing it, mainly WinAPI functions because that's the easier route (h-haha…), and started to try to "optimize" some of the more common ones:

ReadFile: Was the first, and looking at the sheer volume of like 12783972198 calls a milisecond every time you move the camera, I thought surely I can speed it up a little r-right. Not really. I tried all sorts of… interesting things, file caching in memory, implementing the overlapped flag (took ages), etc. Oh and the performance increase? Literally nothing. It's called weirdly from wherever it's called and so we must suffer.

Threads: So, I had a look at other areas that were potential targets for speedup, ran an actual profile and it showed a problem areas namely threads and some other stuff I don't remember. ZwWaitForMultipleObjects and WaitForSingleObject take up a lot of time, so I very poorly attempted to optimize them, adding some timeout optimizations (and a bunch of other failed attempts). Despite being the most insane, this actually worked, and I got like a 40% speed increase in a very very niche metric that did not noticeably effect the game one single bit. I plan to combine all my failures into a single script eventually, maybe once combined they'll do something…

Actual insanity - Memory IPC: Then I had an idea, everyone hates e12, why don't we shove the games memory into another process and that'll fix it. No brain moment. No clue what past me was thinking, for some reason I thought you could like, access another processes memory if it was spawned from it, but uhh.. no, that's not how things work… I tried a few other things in a similar vein but it just crashed and crashed, so for now I'm just gunna work on:

Alloc/free mee - Current insanity: Currently, I'm still working on VirtualAlloc and VirtualFree (which is what I was redirecting to another process), but more from an optimizing memory usage standpoint than a… whatever the IPC thing was. There's a lot of things to try, and I've had some luck in some areas and some abysmal failures in others. There's a few promising functions calling VirtualAlloc/Free that seem to be potentially pointing towards memory leaks (004e54d0), but I'm too dumb to investigate that. At the moment, I'm going mostly just gathering more logs which takes forever and hurts my brain real bad.. On testing there's like 180 allocs that we could probably yeet no problem, which is like 750mb saved… Maybe idk.

I have plenty of ideas for deduplication, memory pool implementations to reduce churn/fragmentation, shoving things aggressively into pagefiles if they're not being used, etc. etc. Basically, there's a lot of avenues to explore, and I feel like there's potential… though I've definitely said that before and been dead wrong so…

Anyway, rambling over. I plan to release a dumb little renderer settings mod maybe-soon-ish that'll let you do dumb stuff that might be useful for reshade like turn shadows/drop shadows off and post processing off and on. I guess I could add max lots and other settings eventually too since they're static values.... Might also do a mythbusting post for some performance "tweak" stuff I see thrown around that isn't super accurate but I also don't want people to be angry at me so maybe not.

Sorry to whoever read all this, but also thanks :)

#sims 3 #sims 3 mods #ts3 #sims3 #rant #idk idk

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sippy--sippy · 6 months ago

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wedding date (miya atsumu x reader)

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summary: you meet atsumu at your friend's wedding and steamy shenanigans ensue CW: smut, car sex word count: 9,774 A/N: if you know me in real life do not read this oh my goooooooood i can't have people knowing i write smut. ya’ll this is almost 10k words LOL this holds the record for the longest one-shot i’ve ever written. this idea came to me because i went to like 5 weddings last year and none of them were my own so i'm getting desperate. enjoyyyyy! !! MINORS DNI !! also, reader is written as AFAB and wears a dress

One would think you’d be more excited to see the cumulation of hours and hours of hard work come to a head once your best friend’s wedding came around. Working closely with the bride-to-be (Kumi) and the maid of honor (her sister), it took months to plan your best friend’s perfect fairytale wedding. Tiring, grueling nights of research, long phone calls, nonrefundable deposits and arguing had finally paid off.

Kumi had found the most beautiful countryside venue for her ceremony. The venue was surrounded by lush forest, spattered with cherry blossom trees that were thankfully in bloom at this time in April, giving the area an ethereal feeling. Rows of white chairs lined the grass, an aisle nestled between the rows that was dusted with white rose petals and cherry blossoms, leading to an elaborate archway decorated with drapes of tulle, ribbons and flowers.

Wedding guests were already in their seats, talking reverently amongst themselves as they awaited the wedding processional, soft romantic music filling the background. You couldn't have asked for better weather either. It was a sunny, clear skied day and since it was April, it wasn’t stiflingly hot.

So why weren’t you giddy with happiness?

Because you were nervous.

You wanted this to be the most perfect day for your friend, one that she’ll cherish forever. What if something went horribly wrong? What if someone in the procession tripped? What if the caterers for the luncheon give everyone food poisoning? What if someone breaks their ankle on the dancefloor?

A million possibilities ran through your mind of what could possibly go wrong during the next couple hours but the procession was actually the part you were most worried about. Usually, there would be some sort of practice rehearsal the day before to make sure everyone knew what order to walk out in, how to timely do so, and to make sure everyone knew where to stand. Unfortunately, a rehearsal wasn’t done due to half of the procession still traveling from Tokyo the day before and not making it into town until late that night so no one was able to practice.

Behind a remodeled rustic barn that served as the inside portion of the venue and out of sight from all the guests, everyone was scrambling to get in the proper order to walk out. The officiant was going to walk out first so he could take his spot under the archway. Next in line was the groom who, besides the utter chaos around him, looked as cool as a cucumber.

Due to living a pretty large distance away from each other, you didn’t have the chance to get to know Kumi’s boyfriend, fiance and now almost-husband very well. From what you have learned though, was that Kita Shinsuke was the calmest, sweetest and most brutally honest person you had ever had the chance of meeting. While you were almost scared to talk to him at times, you could see how your friend had fallen head over heels for him. He was so gentle and soft spoken, especially to her. She was going to have the most peaceful life with him.

He looked very sharp with his tailored light grey 3-piece suit and his dainty baby pink bowtie. His hair wasn’t styled much different than what it usually looked like. If anything it looked just the slightest bit wind-swept with the small breeze that blew through the air. How he managed to look so nonchalant at a pivotal moment of his life like this, you had no clue.

Following him was Kita’s grandma and Kumi’s mother who were going to walk down the aisle together, both dressed in cream dresses. At the tail end of the party, Kita’s little nephew and Kumi’s niece acted as the ring bearer and flower girl. Behind them, hidden from Kita’s view just inside the barn, Kumi was waiting to emerge with her older brother who was going to walk her down the aisle, as her father had passed away years ago.

Sandwiched right in the middle of the party were the groomsmen and bridesmaids which is where the real issue lay. Since no one was able to practice the procession, none of you knew who you were supposed to be walking down the aisle with and it didn’t help that Kita had asked practically his entire high school volleyball team to be his groomsmen. Luckily, your friend had picked just as many bridesmaids so there were even numbers but there were 10 different couples. 20 bridesmaids and groomsmen in total. Which was absolute lunacy in your personal opinion.

The maid of honor was whisper-shouting the names of each couple that were supposed to walk down the aisle together. She was paired with Kita’s best man, a tall dark-skinned man named Aran Ojiro. As she went down the list, each bridesmaid and groomsman scrambled to find each other and get in the procession line. She called a couple names before she finally called yours.

“(L/n) (Y/n) and Miya Atsumu.”

You were briefly surprised when she called your partner’s name because she had already called another Miya to partner up with a different bridesmaid. He was tall and handsome, dark brown hair swooped to the right, looking casual but put together at the same time. Were the two related? You didn’t have to think for long as a warm body sidled up to you.

Definitely twins, was your first thought. They looked eerily similar, especially since they were wearing the same outfit. All of the groomsmen wore a white button down shirt with a light gray suit vest and slacks, all tied together with a baby pink tie. This twin however, had blonde hair that was styled to gently swoop to the left and he seemed to be slightly broader than his brother.

Extremely handsome, nonetheless. Almost unnervingly so.

He looked down at you with a casual smile and flashed a perfect set of pearly white teeth. “Are you (L/n) (Y/n)?”

You suddenly felt very self conscious about the way you looked. How were you supposed to walk down the aisle on the arm of a man that looked like- well- that? The pink dress you wore to match all of the other bridesmaids felt too hot and restricted. You were suddenly worried you were going to sweat through your dress. Did your hair look alright? Was your makeup smeared?

Realizing you had just been staring at him, all you managed to squeak out was a pathetic “Yes”.

He probably noticed your raging blush underneath the heavy layer of makeup covering your cheeks but he didn’t say anything about it, instead choosing to lead you over to the procession line to stand behind his twin and the bridesmaid he was linking arms with.

Atsumu held out his ridiculously strong looking arm to you and you hesitantly looped your hand into the crook of his elbow. You could feel the bulge of his bicep beneath his shirt and you felt yourself getting woozy. You couldn’t tell if it was because of the sudden temperature spike, how painstakingly gorgeous the man who stood next to you was, the nerves or a combination of all of it.

You didn’t realize that you were shaking until Atsumu dipped his head down to look at you in concern. “Are y’ alright? Yer tremblin’.”

He had the same Kansai accent that Kita had. You couldn’t deny that it fit him beautifully. You nodded and gave him a tight lipped smile. “Yeah, I’m alright. Just nervous I guess.”

Atsumu huffed in amusement and nudged your ribs with the elbow you held onto. “What for? Yer not the one gettin’ married.”

With the hand that wasn’t holding onto his elbow, the hand that held a small bouquet of pale pink and white flowers, you very delicately tapped his chest in retort. You couldn’t smack him as hard as you wanted to, in lieu of destroying the fragile bouquet. “I know that! I just- I don’t know. I want this to go as smoothly as possible. Kumi and Kita deserve the most perfect wedding and what if I trip over these stupid heels walking down the aisle or something.”

You shifted on your feet to prove your point, your heeled feet squishing into soft grass you stood on. Atsumu looked down to watch you squirm in place, then surprised you by lifting his free hand up to pat your hand that rested on his arm.

“I’ll catch you if y’ fall. Or fall with you, so yer not as embarrassed if yer really that worried ‘bout it. We can humiliate ourselves together..”

You looked up at him with a raised brow. He’d do that for you? You couldn’t deny it made your heart race that this attractive man that you’d met not two minutes ago would go to such lengths to calm your nerves, even if that meant embarrassing himself. You gave him a genuine smile this time, squeezing the soft muscle of his arm.

“Thank you for the offer, that’s very sweet of you. Let’s just both agree to not fall for the next 20 minutes and save our humiliating moves for the dancing later tonight.”

Atsumu smiled at that idea and straightened up. “Save me a dance?”

Butterflies exploded in your stomach and suddenly you weren’t so worried about the ceremony anymore, instead looking forward to the night to come. “Absolutely.”

A venue employee motioned for the start of the processional to begin and the officiator made his way out from behind the barn to start down the aisle, followed a handful of slow seconds later by Kita who’d take his place next to him. Kita’s grandma and Kumi’s mom followed after and then next were the bridesmaids and groomsmen. Atsumu and yourself were 6th in line so it took a while before it was your turn. Once Atsumu’s twin made his way out, a couple of seconds passed before the two of you started your walk.

Instead of keeping his free hand down by his side like all the groomsmen before you had, Atsumu kept his free hand resting over yours that sat nestled in his arm. You realized he was doing it to help keep you steady if you needed it. If your legs weren’t wobbly before, they certainly were now.

The slow walk down the aisle felt ages long but probably took about 30 seconds tops. It was terrifying having all the attendees watching you walk down the aisle but you kept your cool and kept a soft smile on your face. You couldn’t see it, but Atsumu was cheesing the whole time. He loved weddings, especially when he got to walk down the aisle with a pretty bridesmaid.

Once the both of you reached the end of the aisle, Atsumu gently let go of your hand and you hesitantly let go of his arm to join the line of bridesmaids. You couldn’t help but look at him before you parted. Everyone was focused on the couples behind you anyway so no one was paying attention to you two at the moment. Atsumu gave you a sly smile and a wink before turning to take his place in the line, not before giving a nod to Kita who gave him a rare gentle smile.

The rest of the ceremony went swimmingly. Kumi looked so beautiful walking down the aisle with her brother. The ever stoic Kita had tears in his eyes the second she came into view, and his voice even wobbled as they exchanged vows. You were embarrassed to admit that half the time the officiator was talking, you weren’t watching the happy couple, instead focusing on the line of groomsmen behind Kita.

Atsumu had a sort of magnetism to him you couldn’t deny. He seemed to be having the same problem as you because you made eye contact on multiple occasions and his smile broadened each time. The ceremony flew by and Kita and Kumi officially became husband and wife with a sweet kiss, prompting cheers from all the attendees.

The newlyweds made their way back up the aisle, smiling and holding hands while being showered in white flower petals. The bridesmaids and groomsmen then linked back up with their assigned partners to follow them once they were through. While most linked arms again, Atsumu surprised you by interlocking your fingers and tugging you down the aisle with him in giddy happiness. His energy was contagious and you were laughing right along with him through the white petals.

Once the exciting energy of the ceremony wound down, it was time for pictures which took an awful long time. There were a large variety of shots. Large family pictures, pictures of just parents/grandparents, Kumi and all the bridesmaids, the groomsmen tossing a rather hesitant Kita into the air, etc. There was only one picture where you were placed next to Atsumu (to your disappointment) but when he put his hand on the small of your back while everyone smiled at the camera, you decided you wouldn’t complain.

The luncheon followed next, which you helped oversee to make sure everything was running smoothly. By the time it was time to actually sit down and eat, all the circular tables towards the front of the room where the other bridesmaids and groomsmen were sitting by the head table had been filled from what you could see. You were about to find an extra seat at one of the emptier far tables but before you could, Atsumu waved you over to his table where a seat next to him was being saved. You thanked him profusely and sat down just as Kumi’s sister gave her maid of honor speech, followed by Kumi and Kita giving their own speeches. You couldn’t help but tear up as they spoke, their adoration for each other very apparent.

While they spoke, caterers brought plates of food around to the tables. The main course consisted of salmon smoked to perfection with a side of rice straight from the family farm Kita owned and operated. Along with a couple other sides, cups of sake were passed around to those who wanted it.

It wasn’t until the tail end of Kita’s speech when you noticed Atsumu had draped his arm over the back of your chair. Your bare shoulders could feel the heat of him through his white shirt.

Once speeches had wrapped up, everyone dug into their food and started casual conversation. Most of the people around the table were groomsmen, and you quickly learned all about their high school volleyball days and learned that almost all of them, including Atsumu to your absolute pleasure, still played professionally. Atsumu’s twin, Osamu you learned, was happy to tell you all about it.

“‘Tsumu’s both the most popular and most hated volleyball player in all of Japan. He’s talented, sure, but his PR skills are absolute garbage. This scrub gets cancelled on Twitter at least once a month. You’d think with as big of a head as he’s got, he’d have a bigger brain and NOT get into a fight with some 12 year old kid who said Kageyama’s a better setter than ‘Tsumu will ever be.”

Everyone at the table laughed, yourself included. Atsumu growled and tried to punch Osamu, who ducked out of the way. They scuffled for a little bit as you got to know the other people at the table. Aran and Suna were fun to talk to, both of them professional volleyball players as well. Aran was one of the strongest players in Japan which you were very interested in learning about, and Suna had the most social media followers of any professional volleyball player in the whole world.

They asked a lot of questions about you too, which got Atsumu’s attention enough to finally stop fighting Osamu. You told them about your career in Tokyo and the simple life you were leading. Nothing compared to theirs, you assured them, which they disagreed with you on.

The rest of the luncheon was filled with pleasant conversation and laughter. Before you knew it, the caterers came around to clear the tables and it was announced that there would be a break until the reception started so the guests could go do as they pleased. There were still a couple hours until the reception and none of you knew the location well enough to leave the venue to explore so everyone stayed and lounged around.

You got up and took some time to make sure everything was in order for the dance portion of the reception and songs were queued in the right order. The cake was your next target, making sure it was ready for the cutting. After checking a couple other odds and ends, you made your way back to the table where the conversation had fizzled out. A couple of the men were on their phones, Osamu seemed to be sleeping with his head on the table, and Atsumu was just looking around the venue at all the lights and decor. When you slid back into your chair, he smiled and straightened up, angling his body towards yours.

He led you into a conversation about your life, and you asked questions about him, very interested in his blossoming career as a national league setter. As you spoke, you didn’t notice his arm moving beneath the tablecloth until you felt his fingers brush your thigh. Your dress was on the longer side, so he wasn’t able to reach any skin but that didn’t stop him from flattening out his large palm over the fabric. Your words caught in your mouth as you looked at him in surprise. His head was propped up on his other hand, and he didn’t look the least bit guilty as his pointer finger started to twirl in lazy circles.

His hand wasn’t unwelcome, you realized very quickly, and you enjoyed the feel of his warm fingers running over your thigh. The tablecloth covered your legs and his hand so you didn’t worry about people seeing, but it was still risky. You were thankful for your longer dress because if he had any access to more of your legs, you were sure he’d be exploring and you doubted you’d be able to keep any noises or reactions you made very discreet.

His hand stayed on your thigh for a quite while and you didn’t realize how much time had passed until you looked at the clock. The reception was set to start in half an hour and you needed to make sure the caterer’s were getting the refreshments in order.

Grabbing Atsumu’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, you deposited it into his own lap and excused yourself. You stood up and wandered back into the kitchen to talk to the manager of the catering business, talking lightheartedly with him and praising him and his team on his work. The refreshments looked amazing, a blend of sweet and savory dishes spread across trays to bring out once the reception guests started to arrive. Thanking them for all their hard work, you left the kitchen but you didn’t get very far because someone grabbed your arm and yanked you behind a stack of crates and refrigerated boxes brought by the caterers. It was secluded from sight, but you wouldn’t be hard to spot if one of the workers came looking for a stack of extra cups.

Atsumu smiled down at you as you stared at him in surprise. In his hands was a plate stacked with pastries from the kitchen. Your mouth watered at the sight, but you couldn’t help but scold him first.

“How did you get those? We’re not supposed to eat these until the reception starts,” you whispered. Even so, you grabbed one and stuck half of it in your mouth anyway, almost moaning at how good it was.

Atsumu quietly laughed and ate one of his own. “I grabbed some while you were distractin’ the workers. I haven’t had sugar all day so I grabbed a couple. I figured they won’t notice a couple missin’. Thought you’d want a taste too.”

As he finished his sentence, he held your stare as he licked a dash of the cloudy frosting off his thumb. He knew what he was doing, making sure to take his time as his tongue flattened over the tip of his finger to get every drop. God yes, you wanted a taste.

Gulping, you shoved the rest of the pastry in your mouth in haste, trying to push the sinful thoughts aside. This was not the place, nor the time (as much as you wished it was). Dusting your fingers of crumbs, you licked your teeth to make sure there wasn’t any pastry residue stuck there. Atsumu gazed at you the whole time, hands gripping the plate, staring at your mouth.

“W-We should… get back to our table-”

Atsumu’s restraint snapped it seemed, surging forward to pull you into a fierce kiss. He dropped the plate of pastries on to the nearest box and used his now free hand to cradle the back of your neck. You were surprised, but melted into the kiss shortly after. A little fun wouldn’t hurt, right?

You draped your arms over his neck as he guided you back to rest against a stack of boxes. The hand that didn’t hold your neck slid down your side and hooked underneath your thigh, pulling it up to hook around his leg as high as your dress would offer. His hand kneaded the flesh behind your knee as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue making an appearance to swipe across your lips, probably gathering up a trail of powdered sugar left there from the pastry.

You were on cloud 9, eyes fluttering as you happily let his tongue dance with yours. Atsumu let out a soft grunt as one of your hands slid into his hair, grasping at the blonde strands. As much as you wanted this to continue, in the back of your mind you knew you couldn't go further than this. Hoards of people were due to start showing up any minute for the reception, and you’d be found for sure.

Relishing in a couple more pushes of his lips against yours, you pressed your hands to his cheeks and pulled his face away. He slowly opened his eyes to look at you in hazy, lust-filled confusion, a hum of question rising from his throat as you squished his cheeks together.

“We can’t do this here. Someone’s gonna catch us and we need to get ready for the reception.” As you spoke, you stared at his lips, both because you wanted to kiss him again and because the dark lip tint covering your lips was smeared across his mouth.

Laughing lightly, you ran your thumb over his lips, picking up the color as you went. His eyes softened at your laugh and he stood still as you worked, hand dropping your leg so he could instead rest his hands on your hips.

“Are ya sure? We can make it quick, I promise. I’ll be real quiet, baby,” he whispered.

You shook your head and pushed his chest so he’d back up. He holds tightly to your sides as you adjust your dress back down your legs and fan your face to try to make your flaming blush go away. Atsumu hesitantly let you go as you started to herd him out from behind the boxes as nonchalantly as possible, holding the plate of pastries in one hand.

New guests were starting to show up and join the greeting line to say congratulations to the happy couple, leaving piles of gifts at the front entrance. Atsumu had a pep in his step as the two of you neared your table, pulling out your chair for you which you embarrassingly thanked him for, shrinking under the curious gaze of everyone else. Osamu was particularly curious, raising a brow as Atsumu plopped into his chair with a sly grin. You busied yourself with watching the sea of people, smiling as they praised Kita and Kumi on their wedding and gorgeous reception.

Atsumu and yourself ease back into the table’s conversation to wait for the greeting line to disperse. Atsumu’s hand found its way to your thigh again, this time brushing higher than it did before. You nearly jumped out of your seat when he forced his digits against the strain of your dress to drag over the crotch of your panties. You snatched his hand away as discreetly as you could, choosing to interlock your fingers with his instead, holding his hand in your lap. Atsumu seemed fine with this change and relaxed against his chair to tune back into Aran’s story of how he met his new girlfriend.

By the time it was announced that it was time for the cake cutting, you were nearly asleep in your chair. It had been a long, eventful day and you were starting to feel the effects of it. Your eyes opened from their drooped state when Atsumu stood and pulled you up with him to gather around where the newlyweds were about to cut into their cake.

Smacking your cheeks to clear your head, you let him lead you to the crowd of people surrounding Kumi and Kita. Osamu clocked your intertwined hands immediately but didn’t say anything. Atsumu let you stand in front of him so you could peek through the bodies to watch, the heat of him grazing your spine as you watched the couple try their cake and laughed as Kumi smashed a bite into Kita’s surprised face.

Once the cake had been wheeled away, it was time for the dancing. Everyone stood around the dance floor as Kumi danced with her brother, which brought a tear to your eye, and gentle Kita danced with his grandma which really made you cry. Then, Kita and Kumi danced together. They held each other close as they slowly danced, whispering to one another. It was a sweet moment, and you watched them with adoration, unaware of the gentle gaze Atsumu had on you, not the couple.

As they finished their song, anyone who wanted could go out to join them for another slow song. You twisted your fingers together and watched a large handful of couples head to the dancefloor. A shock of electricity ran down your spine when a warm hand fully rested on your lower back and Atsumu pushed you forward. You had no time to decline, as he had already pulled you in front of the crowd so you’d look pathetic if you backed out now.

Gulping nervously, you shyly looked at him as he took your left hand into his right, bringing his other to rest on your lower back to tug you flush against him. Your free hand moved to rest hesitantly on the back of his shoulder when he started to sway to the soft music. You buried your face into the warm expanse of his chest to hide your blush and he brought his head down to rest against the side of yours.

“Yer shakin’ again, beautiful,” he murmured into your ear.

Squeezing the hand that held yours, you murmured back a quiet “fuck you” which made his chest rumble with a low laugh. You didn’t say anything the rest of the dance, slowly relaxing into his hold which he noticed, pulling you impossibly closer. The end of the song came too soon and people started rushing the dance floor when a much more upbeat song came on.

Before you had the chance to look at him, Atsumu was dragging you into the bouncing crowd, the beginnings of a mosh pit bubbling. You were swept into another dance with him, this one much more full of life. Deciding to just let go, you gave into his advances, swaying your hips and laughing loudly as the bass of the song shuddered through you. Atsumu laughed too, bouncing on his feet to the beat. The rest of your table came to dance around you, some more energetic than others, but there nonetheless.

The more songs that played, the looser everyone got. Even Kita was getting into it. Osamu found one of the bridesmaids to dance with, a little liquid courage from multiple cups of sake flowing through him. Aran wouldn’t dance with any other ladies, as he did have a girlfriend, but that didn’t stop him from dancing with Suna who was surprisingly fluid as he danced. Atsumu focused all of his attention on you, save for the one time Suna started throwing it back, also a little drunk. Everyone’s attention was caught by that.

Besides that though, Atsumu kept close to you and got closer and closer as you danced. At one point, you helped him loosen his tie and threw it around his neck. Since everyone else was too preoccupied with dancing, and no one was going to even notice you doing it anyway, you pressed your ass against Atsumu’s slacks, hips moving in time with his to the beat. His breath was hot against your neck, large palms keeping your waist warm as you brought a hand up to scrape your nails over his dark undercut.

You could feel his excitement start to tent his light grey slacks against your backside. Looking up at him with hooded eyes, you both had a silent but simple conversation.

You needed him and he needed you. Atsumu wasn’t ashamed to admit that if you kept grinding on him like that, he’d take you right here on the dance floor.

Showing some restraint and taking your hand tightly in his, Atsumu tugged you out of the sea of dancing bodies, an excited determination in his walk. As much as you wanted this to happen, there was only one problem.

“Atsumu, where are you planning on taking us? There’s nowhere private we can go in this building.”

He halted in his steps as he took in your words, realizing that you were right. There weren’t many rooms in this barn, save for the kitchen which was packed with caterers, the bathroom which had a constant flow of people trickling through, and the occasional storage closet which were too close to the reception to be able to sneak into without being easily spotted.

Drumming his fingers on his thigh, he looked around the venue in a desperate attempt to find some sort of secret alcove or something. Just when you thought that maybe it wasn’t meant to be, Atsumu perked up and grinned.

“I’ve got an idea.” He started tugging you along again back to the table the two of you had been sitting at all night. Letting go of your hand, he started rummaging through the pockets of the light jacket he had brought along with him that had been abandoned over the back of his chair all day.

The muffled clacking of something in the jacket pocket gave away his idea as he pulled out a simple set of car keys. Flashing you a smile, which you eagerly returned, he snatched up your hand again to start walking out to the gravel parking lot that sat a couple hundred yards away from the venue. You tried to slow him down and make it less obvious to those around you what you were going to do but he seemed to be too excited to care.

The cool outside air was refreshing against your heated skin and the sky was gorgeous as the sun started to dip below the horizon. The parking lot was packed with cars, attendees constantly trickling in and out of the reception. Depending on where he was parked, the parking lot would be just as risky as using the bathroom inside. Luckily, he led you back to the far corner of the lot where a gorgeous white car sat. Your car knowledge was slim, so you didn’t know what type of car it was but you could tell it was expensive. It had very dark tinted windows as well, which was an extra bonus.

Atsumu had backed into his parking stall, a spot at the very end of the lot so no cars were parked behind him or on one side of him giving you both the perfect spot to hide away (unless the owner of the one car next to him showed up).

“Nice ride.” You joked as the both of you stopped by the driver’s side door. Atsumu chuckled as he fumbled his keys in his hands, trying to unlock the vehicle.

“Thanks! ‘Samu says I got an expensive car to compensate for my ‘tiny dick’, but we’re twins, so he knows that’s not true. We had one too many naked fights in the locker room durin’ our volleyball days, so I know I’m packin’ just as much as he is. Front or back seat, gorgeous?”

You giggled as he finally got his car unlocked and opened the door for you to peer inside. As nice of a car as it was, you doubted Atsumu would be very comfortable in the back seat given his size. It was a pretty slim car.

“Front. Wouldn’t want to squish you into the back seat.” You gave Atsumu a once over as he stood with an arm resting on the hood of the car. “Plus, I’d like to ride those thighs of yours.”

Atsumu had the goofiest smile. He looked like a kid in a candy store. “You’re readin’ my mind.”

You stood watch as Atsumu worked on getting his car ready, moving the driver's seat as far back as it could go and reclining it enough so it would be comfortable for him. He cracked open the two windows on the passenger side of the car, the side that faced the forest, so some fresh air would breeze through. Finally, he slid into the car and threw the keys into the passenger's seat. If you weren’t turned on already, the sight of him lounging in the seat, outfit rumpled from the dancing, tie slung around his neck and powerful legs spread just waiting for you to settle onto them would definitely do the trick.

Kicking off your heels, you left them sitting on the gravel outside the car and made one more cautious look around before you bunched up your dress to your knees so you could get into the car with more ease. Atsumu looked at you like you were the most gorgeous person on the planet as you moved to straddle his lap, dress hiking up a little more to rest around your thighs.

The second you closed the door behind you, Atsumu’s mouth was attacking yours, tongue instantly pushing past the seal of your lips to explore every inch of your mouth that he could reach. His large palms kneaded the flesh of your ass through the thin fabric of your dress, and you moved to frantically rake your fingers through his dark undercut. The flex of his powerful thighs underneath yours was driving you insane, cords of muscle dragging against your skin through his slacks. You were sure his slacks were a size or two too small, because you could feel every inch of him like he wasn’t even wearing pants.

After a couple of breathless minutes, the two of you finally separated, a string of spit keeping your mouths connected. Just like earlier, your dark lip tint was smeared over Atsumu’s lips again. When he went in for another kiss, you pulled your head back which prompted a whine from Atsumu as he tried to chase your lips.

“The makeup ‘Tsumu, remember? It’s gotta last for at least one more hour.”

Atsumu pouted and grumbled out a “fine” before focusing his attention on your neck. While he started attacking the soft skin just underneath your jaw, you started unbuttoning his vest and shirt. The more of his torso you exposed, the wetter you felt your panties get. He was gorgeously tanned and toned. Once you had unbuttoned all the buttons you could reach, besides the few that were tucked into his slacks, your hands started exploring his smooth skin. His shoulders were gorgeously sculpted, the dips of his collarbone deep. Your hands splayed over his chest, fingers brushing over his nipples which pebbled at your attention.

His chest heaved at your ministrations, groaning in pleasure. You felt him shift his hips up into you, member straining against his slacks as he dragged it against your clothed core. Tightening your legs around his thighs, Atsumu held your hips tightly against his as he ground against you, working your neck with his teeth. You keened as his bulge dragged over your sensitive clit, shuddering as Atsumu nibbled at your ear.

Tired of waiting, you reached beneath you to fumble with his belt, tossing it into the passenger seat with his keys once you’re able to pull it free. You make quick work of the button on his slacks, tugging down the zipper and pulling his pants and boxer briefs down just enough to bunch underneath his cock which stood at attention against his abdomen.

Osamu was definitely wrong when he assumed Atsumu got a fancy car to compensate for a tiny dick, because it was anything but tiny. He wasn’t outrageously long, but he was thick. Thick enough that just the thought of him dragging inside of you had your eyes rolling back.

WIth his cock now free, the friction between your panties and his member had Atsumu’s thighs quaking under you. He released one of his hands from the vice-grip it had on your hips to reach behind him and hold onto the head rest.

“Hng- Christ, baby.” His voice was deep and scratchy, breathless as you rubbed your core against the underside of his dick, squeezing it between your body and his stomach.

You mouthed at his throat which bobbed against your lips as he sat forward. Wrapping an arm around your back, he started digging through his center console. When he grunted in annoyance and leant forward even more to start shifting through his glove box, you nipped at his ear and huskily asked, “What’s wrong?”

Atsumu was pulling handfuls of objects out of the glove box and throwing them onto the floor in front of the passenger seat. “Shit- can’t find a condom.”

Dragging your tongue over the shell of his ear, you reached down and wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft. His cock twitched in your grip and his arm tightened around your back as he paused his searching.

“Are you clean?” you asked, slowly sliding your hand up over his velvety skin. All Atsumu could do was nod. “Then I don’t mind. I’m on birth control, but try to pull out if you can.”

Atsumu nodded again in agreement and leant back in his seat, watching with one of the most lustful gazes you had ever seen as you rose up on your knees to push your panties to the side, exposing your already drooling core to him. He gripped your thighs as you collected as much spit as you could in your mouth to spit onto your palm. Rubbing the liquid over his length as well as all of the pre-cum he’d already leaked, you gave him a couple pumps for good measure.

He tilted his head back to rest against the head-rest with a guttural groan as you positioned yourself over him, teasing his tip through your folds. With one hand guiding his length and the other gripping the shoulder of the seat, you sank slowly onto him. Both of you moaned in unison as he filled you surprisingly easily considering the lack of proper lubrication and the sheer size of him.

You stopped with him half-way seated, gazing adoringly at his rosy cheeks and mussed hair. He looked back at you just as fondly. With a preparatory breath, you braced yourself on the seat and started to set a slow pace. Every thrust brought him a centimeter further into you as you adjusted to the stretch of him. He held your thighs in his hands, letting you take control for the time being and enjoying the view.

It took a minute of work before you were able to fully sheath him inside yourself. You threw your head back and gasped when you did, the stretch of him hurting so deliciously. It didn’t help that the hard teeth on the zipper of his slacks rubbed against your sensitive folds and the button would occasionally brush over your clit.

Atsumu was barely holding it together. Your core hugged him so tightly, warmly pulsing around his cock in such a way that he probably could’ve come right then and there. Something about you just fit him perfectly in a way no other partner of his ever had.

Once you felt like you had adequately adjusted, your pace quickened. Bouncing up and down on him, he enjoyed the view of your covered breasts bouncing in sync. He leant forward to suck on the small sliver of breast that was visible above the neckline of your dress. You whined and scratched your nails over the back of his neck.

After a couple minutes of this, he couldn’t take it anymore. Gripping your hips tightly, Atsumu took control and started bouncing you on him himself, hips thrusting up to meet you. The new angle had you seeing stars and you didn’t care about your makeup anymore, smashing your lips to his in a kiss that was messy and wet.

Every force of your hips into his had your clit rubbing against the hard metal of his slacks and the brush of pubic hair at the base of his cock. It gave you the friction you needed to bring you closer and closer to the edge. Atsumu wasn’t faring much better - his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier and his hold on your hips getting less and less controlled.

You didn’t have much time to prepare before you came, yelling his name as you gripped his broad shoulders, your fluids covering Atsumu’s thrusting member. It seemed Atsumu didn’t have time to prepare either because he came suddenly with a groan and spilled his load into you, groaning your name.

Pumping yourself up and down a couple more times, this time much slower to ride you both down from your highs, you rested your forehead against his in utter bliss. Breath mingling, you slowed to a stop and sat there in silence, relishing in the stretch of him seated completely inside you, the warm feeling of his spend mingling with your own deep in your core.

After a minute, you pulled your head back to look at him. His face was flushed, eyes drooped in satisfaction and chest heaving from the exertion. The two of you started laughing in euphoria and Atsumu peppered kisses over your shoulder. You slid your fingers through his unkempt hair and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“That was really something, ‘Tsumu.” You hummed, giggling as he wrapped his arms tightly around you to hold you to his chest.

“Sure was. Sorry ‘bout not pulling out. I really was gonna try but you just do somethin’ to me I can’t explain. I didn’t expect to cum that fast.” His hands explored your back, fingers running lightly over the fabric.

“It’s alright. I’m not complaining.”

He pulled back to give you that handsome goofy grin again before kissing you sweetly. You gave him a chaste kiss before pulling away and looking down at the mess you made. Luckily, most of the mess was still trapped inside you thanks to him but if you weren’t careful, it’d get all over his slacks once he pulled out.

“How should we do this? You can’t go back in with a giant cum stain on your pants.”

He hummed in thought, looking around his car. He didn’t have any rags or towels handy, but he did have a load of napkins that he threw onto the floor when looking for a condom. Holding you closely to him, Atsumu reached over to scoop up as many napkins as he could reach. The shift of him had you both groaning at the overstimulation.

Gathering a handful of napkins, he held them under you as you slowly slid off of him, catching as much fluid as possible. You both hissed at the feeling of him leaving you. Thankfully, he was able to catch almost everything with the napkins, save for a few splatters that got on his expensive leather seats.

“Shit, sorry ‘Tsumu. I can help pay to have that cleaned.”

He shook his head immediately, cleaning himself off with the napkins and dropping them on the floor next to his seat. He worked on tucking his length back into his boxer briefs and slacks while you cleaned yourself as best you could, pulling your panties back into place and fixing your dress. Turning your head, you pulled down his sun visor and opened the mirror to get a better look at the state of your makeup.

It was mostly intact, save for your lip tint that was slightly smeared which was fixed with a little swipe of a napkin and your hair was easily tamed since Atsumu had avoided running his fingers through it. There were remnants of your lipstick covering your neck from where Atsumu had furiously attacked. Atsumu had his own stains on his neck from where you had been kissing him. You made eye contact with him through the mirror as he gazed at you with a smirk. You huffed in amusement and cleaned up your neck, then turned to clean up his.

He didn’t take his eyes off you as you did, watching you carefully wipe the smears off his skin. You wiped his mouth last, taking your time as you watched him part his lips for you. Once you were done, you dropped the napkin on the floor with the rest and sighed at him longingly. If only you had more time. You’d let this man do whatever he wanted to you. Unfortunately, you had a wedding reception to get back to.

“Well, thanks for the good time ‘Tsumu.”

He watched your face carefully and you noticed the ever so slight crease fold in his brow. “Yeah. O’course.”

The silence that followed was a bit awkward, so after a second, you moved to open the car door but he grabbed your hand before you could. “Wait.”

You turned back to him and raised a brow, deciding to busy yourself with buttoning up his shirt and vest. He suddenly seemed very shy, rubbing his fingers over the flesh of your waist in little circles. Finally he spoke.

“When are ya headed back to Tokyo?”

You stilled your fingers which were working on the last button of his shirt. “Tomorrow.”

He nodded and seemed to be deep in thought before drumming his fingers against you in nervousness. “I fly back tonight but… wouldya be interested in meetin’ up sometime? I don’t have much free time but I’ll find the time for ya.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest at the offer. “Like… a date?”

Atsumu’s cheeks turned a shade darker in the almost nearly setting sun as he grumbled, now looking at anything but you. “I mean, yeah? Unless you don’t want it to be, then it doesn’t have to be a date I guess. Could be a friendly hang out or somethin-”

You cut him off with a brief but strong peck. You didn’t want to risk getting more lipstick on him. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

He perked up and squeezed your sides. “Really?”

You giggled and nodded. “Yes! Of course I would, you big airhead.”

The next couple seconds consisted of him raining kisses all over any part of you he could reach with you laughing and trying to push him away, begging him not to ruin your makeup. After losing the battle and cleaning lipstick off of him again, you finished buttoning up his vest and pulling your dress into place before you left the car.

You slid your heels back onto your aching feet while Atsumu refastened his belt and gathered up all the used napkins, making a mild sound of disgust at the large amounts of viscous fluid covering most of them that was getting all over his hand. Once his car was locked up, you both walked hand-in-hand back to the reception where it seemed no one even noticed the two of you had left.

After tossing the napkins into the nearest trash can, the both of you went to the bathroom to clean up any remaining mess before returning to the crowds. Plopping down at your table, the two of you gulped down multiple cups of water and started digging into the refreshments. Atsumu had consumed at least 3 onigiri and 2 little bowls of miso soup on his own before Osamu plopped down next to him, looking weathered from the dancing.

“Where have you two been? I lost track of ya like half an hour ago.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and you focused on your bowl of miso soup, stirring the broth around with your spoon. Atsumu seemed to be much less embarrassed, chest puffing up in pride as he finished off his next onigiri. Osamu raised an eyebrow and studied the two of you before looking at Atsumu’s neck, where a very obvious hickey was starting to bloom and groaned in disgust.

“Jesus, y'all are nasty. Where the hell did ya find a place to jump each other’s bones around here, huh? Out on the grass? There are kids here.”

You covered your face in embarrassment as Atsumu angrily started defending the two of you. “O’course not, jackass! Do you really think so little of me? You really think I’d do that?”

Osamu instantly agreed that he would, in fact, probably do that. Atsumu grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and shook him around. “No! We did it in my car, thank you very much. And it was amazing. Have you ever done it in a car before, ‘Samu? Doubt it! No chick will ever want to go down on you if you keep cruising around in that beater of yours!”

The twins really started getting at it now, yelling at each other and rolling around on the ground, trying to get the last punch in. You tried to avert your eyes and pretend you didn’t know them. Kita, bless his heart, came up to separate the two who instantly fell to their knees to apologize for making a scene at his wedding.

Atsumu came to you after, pouting about his brother and sporting a busted lip. You coddled him, helping clean the blood off his chin. Osamu gagged from his place at the table, now sitting next to you instead of Atsumu so they didn’t try to fight each other again.

The rest of the night went smoothly. The dancing finally wrapped up and the send off was magical. The newlyweds ran through the line of guests who held sparklers above their heads, making for a magical exit into the night as the couple set off for their honeymoon. You had to stop Atsumu from starting Osamu’s hair on fire with his sparkler shortly after, taking both men’s sticks from them to put in a water bucket.

All of Kita’s old volleyball friends stuck around to help clean up, helping put away the tables and chairs, and taking down the decorations. By the time it was over, you were wiped and ready to go back to your hotel room to sleep until noon.

As you were loading up the last of the boxes into the trunk of your car, you felt someone come up behind you and ghost their hands over your stomach, pressing a tender kiss on the back of your neck. You smiled as you closed the trunk, reaching a hand up to slide through Atsumu’s soft hair. He buried his face in your neck and the two of you stood there for a minute, savoring the warmth of each other in the brisk darkness.

“I wrote my number down on a napkin and put it in yer purse. Call me when y’ get back to Tokyo tomorrow, ‘kay? Wanna make sure y’ get back safe and sound.”

You smiled and turned to face him, running your fingers over the tie that still hung loosely around his neck. “I will. I’ll text you when I get back to my hotel so you have my number, and you text me when you make it back to Tokyo tonight too. Need to make sure my date makes it back in one piece.”

He smiled and nodded in agreement, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

A day you thought would be full of nerves and worry, had turned into one of the best nights of your life.

If you thought Kita and Kumi’s wedding was nerve wracking, it didn’t hold a candle to your OWN wedding.

Pressed close to Osamu’s side, you waited anxiously as the wedding procession in front of you started their walk down the aisle. Since you had no living male blood relative that you wanted to walk you down the aisle, your now almost brother-in-law was immediately your first choice. He was surprised, of course, but said yes in a heartbeat. Atsumu’s twin had easily weaseled his way into your heart soon after you started dating Atsumu, as rocky and embarrassing as your first night meeting him was.

He gave you a free meal every time you visited Onigiri Miya, and charged Atsumu full price to make up the difference. He gave you the most embarrassing pictures of Atsumu in his phone to use for blackmail. He was the ring-leader in making sure everything was perfect the night Atsumu proposed to you, keeping a crowd of people at bay to make sure you and Atsumu were alone when he dropped to one knee in the middle of a large gorgeous bridge at the popular tourist site, the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden. He got yelled at in many languages that day from the angry tourists who wanted to cross the bridge, but it was well worth it. Suna, who held off the swarm of people on the other side of the bridge, would agree.

Just like you had the day of Kumi and Kita’s wedding, you were trembling and clutched Osamu’s arm desperately. He looked down at you and smiled.

“You’re ok, (Y/n). Everything is going smoothly. All you have to do today is make it down that aisle to ‘Tsumu and enjoy yourself for the rest of the night. We’ll take care of everything.”

You looked up at him with a teary smile at his words. With no siblings of your own, your relationship with Osamu meant the world to you. Standing on your tip-toes, you softly kissed his cheek. “Thanks, ‘Samu.”

It was finally your turn to walk down the aisle. With a deep breath, Osamu slowly started to lead you into the room packed with family and friends. It was a gorgeous building. High steepled ceilings, white and burnt orange flowers scattered over every surface available. Since it was mid December, an outside wedding was impossible with the cold but you couldn’t have picked a more perfect place to get married in.

The actual place itself didn’t matter though, as much as the man who waited down the aisle did. Atsumu was dressed in a gorgeous black tux that was pressed to perfection with a sleek black tie to match. His hair was styled the same way it had the day you met him, brushed casually to the side. To your surprise, Atsumu was already crying.

Seeing you walk down the aisle in your beautiful dress, on the arm of his life-long best friend broke him down immediately. You couldn’t help but tear up yourself as Osamu brought you to him. Osamu softly gave your trembling hand to Atsumu, kissed your temple, and gave Atsumu a crushing hug before taking his place at the front of the line of groomsmen. Speaking of groomsmen, you noticed many of them were also already crying.

Atsumu’s teammates were lined up next to him. Kita and Aran both had tears lining their eyes. Hinata and Bokuto, who you became fast friends with, were almost on the verge of full-on sobs. Suna wasn’t crying but had a smile on his face. Sakusa wasn’t crying either but didn’t seem as bored as he usually did.

“You look so beautiful.” Atsumu blubbered out in a whisper as he moved to take both of your hands. Your wet eyes sparkled as you took in every inch of him.

“So do you,” you teased, which made him laugh.

The rest of the ceremony both flew by and dragged on. You stumbled through your vows, trying to keep your tears at bay which proved mostly unsuccessful. Atsumu was in the same boat, barely able to make it through his own vows without choking up.

By the time Atsumu dipped you into a fierce kiss, you were sure your makeup was already ruined from your tears. Everyone cheered loudly in joy. Osamu was hooting and hollering. Hinata and Bokuto finally succumbed to their emotions, crying hysterically. You were breathless by the time Atsumu brought you back to your feet, steadying you with his hands as you smiled widely at the crowd.

Interlocking your fingers, Atsumu led you back down the aisle through the shower of white confetti just like he had the day you met him. In fact, your photographer captured the moment almost in the exact same way that Kumi and Kita’s photographer had. You loved the photos so much, they were hanging up side-by-side in your and Atsumu’s house.

In both pictures, the two of you were smiling more than you ever thought was possible, holding hands and looking at each other with such tenderness you could feel it through the photo. You didn’t really believe in love at first sight, but looking at the photos side-by-side, you realized the two of you had looked at each other that fateful day the same way you looked at each other on your wedding day.

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