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helslastangel · 8 months ago

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RANDOM ASTRO OBSERVATIONS #10

Nobody's safe. That's it. That's the disclaimer.

Libra Jupiter in 11th house can indicate having many opportunities in life that come through friendships and connections with others. People with this placement can often get very far in life simply because they talked to the right people at the right times. This is especially true if they also have Libra in their big 3 or Libra mercury.

Capricorn suns with Sagittarius mercury are surprisingly chill compared to the usual stoic reputation of Capricorn and energetic rep that Sagittarius has. My favorite friends and colleagues have this combination of placements and they are quite easy to get along with and fun to be around.

Very much like Virgo suns with Libra mercury, they can appear quiet and reserved at first, but become lively and chatty once they know you and have decided they like you. However unlike Virgo sun/Libra mercury people (who usually censor their words/tone and think out loud or form their opinions by talking through them first), not only are they a lot blunter (or straightforward, when older), they are more sure about where they stand, or certain of what they want to say on a topic before they say it.

Libra Mercury in the 11th house can have a lot of friends or just make and keep acquaintances very easily. These are the people who always "know a guy" or can say "my homegirl does that!" almost no matter what problem or need you have. They just know someone who can fix it. They are popular people, or at least seem that way to others.

They can sometimes appear to have a much larger network of friends and connections than they do, which is why many of them tend to either keep their friend/friend groups separate or may prefer to maintain superficial/lightweight connections with others over deeper and more intimate connections that would reveal more.

Capricorn Venus in 8th house people can go through a lot of one-sided relationships before landing the right person. They are probably the most caring and attentive of all the Venus sigs, but from my observations they are taken advantage of a lot and often treated very poorly by the majority of their partners.

My childhood friend has this placement (as well as a few of my relatives) and for over a decade I watched her pour so much love and care into men who ended up treating her like an afterthought. I never understood why, as she was very much what you'd think most males would consider wifey material.

She cooked, baked, was organized, and very clean. Motherly instincts intact, had a good job in healthcare and her own place. Knew how to kick back and have fun but could also be appropriately authoritative in the sense of managing a household. Like you could just tell she would be a firm yet loving mother, or even if she did not have kids, you could tell she would be the kind of wife where the husband could hand her his entire paycheck if he wanted and not have to worry for a second that she would blow it on anything foolish. Very capable and responsible woman. I used to get so angry at the way men would come into her life and enjoy all the things she would do for them, including having her manage their money. It was a bit surprising for me how quickly and easily men would put their finances in her hands, only for them to abruptly leave - usually for a woman who was chaotic and stressful too. I did not understand it then, and despite hearing all the talk about how men go for who they are passionate about even if they are the least productive, responsible, or capable person ever, I still don't get it now.

Capricorn in the 8th house can lead to a lot of situations where the native ends up handling other people's money because people can sense their stable energy and innate responsibility. But it can lead to the person feeling like they are nothing but a personal assistant or sentient savings account to others, and over time they can become (100% understandably) bitter if they do not meet someone genuine and kind in time to avoid this.

Aquarius in 6th house can have unusual or eccentric daily routines, or little quirks in the way they go about day to day tasks and responsibilities. I knew someone with this placement who could only brush his teeth in the morning and shower at night. He couldn't really bring himself to do it the other way around and would simply not do the thing at all that day if something disrupted that routine. He also had a job where his # of hours was consistent but his actual shift times weren't and he liked it that way "for the variety." He hated the thought of a schedule where he would have to arrive and leave at the same time every day.

Cancer Lilith in 1st house women can often run into situations where men string them along for a very, very long time. These men sense the stereotypical "nurturing/motherly" essence of Cancer but Cancer Lilith women display a unique twist on this essence where it is very clear to onlookers that her individuality and sense of self cannot be watered down or blended out into others.

Cancer Lilith 1H (and to a lesser extent Taurus Lilith 1H) women are the type who can have a husband, kids, work and manage the home without losing a single ounce of who they always were.

From my observations, they usually don't experience the fate many women meet, where they wake up one day and realize that they haven't even heard their first name in weeks because they're only remembered and referred to in terms of who they are to someone else ("Mom," "John's girlfriend," "Mr. Jones' wife").

Unfortunately, this rubs some men the wrong way, who will then subconsciously try to hang on to the parts of the Cancer Lilith women they like, while searching for other women who don't trigger their fear of women who retain their personality after marriage/children.

Gemini Sun Virgo Rising people can appear put-together and organized in public but could have very messy rooms or just have trouble keeping things in order at home.

People with Pisces in their 7th house might feel torn between going after people they are genuinely attracted to and people they perceive to be a better match, for whatever reason. They could also end up confusing the sense of security they feel with someone for love, or feeling more secure with someone than they should because of love.

Gemini Mars in 10th house does not mind going out of their comfort zone to further their career. They may even set aside their own values and morals if they believe that doing something will produce a good return on their investment (of time, effort, money, etc.).

Taurus Mercury in 9th house enjoys talking to people from other cultures about the foods they eat and what their daily routines and special/holiday ritual are like. They enjoy learning about other cultures on a more down-to-earth level, so they might be less interested in other philosophies and more into sensory differences.

Cancer Moon in 11th house identifies VERY strongly with their friend group and can become depressed or ill if there is too much discord between themselves and their friends, or between their friends with each other. They do not take kindly to any kind of abandonment from friends, real or imagined. If they decide you have left them or betrayed them one too many times, they will simply never speak to you again.

Virgo Mars people can be extremely picky when it comes to partners. One of my childhood friends has this placement and despite being a Sagittarius Sun & Mercury (along with having Venus in 9H), she barely has a romantic interest in anyone. She's not aromantic or asexual; she just gets the ick so easily that it is difficult for her to like anyone enough to date them for long. She didn't go into detail most of the time. She was the furthest from the kiss-and-tell kind of person, she would barely tell anyone even the name or age of anyone she was interested in, much less give details about her specific icks.

I tend to attract Virgo Mars people platonically and romantically quite often though, so I have other examples of the same trait.

My ex-husband is a Virgo sun with Virgo Mars and Leo Venus and the smallest things would throw him off. Like if I made scrambled eggs and all the pieces weren't perfectly yellow (if any got slightly browned, he would consider the entire pot as "burnt" and would ruin his day). If I did laundry and did not strictly separate the colors (I will wash black, dark grey, and bold colors clothes together. He will separate them all. I will wash off-white and very light grey or beige with white clothes. He would look at me crazy and ask me to just do a different household chore and leave the laundry to him. Hea

He also apparently got the ick from my frugality? Lol. I had cheap sneakers and dollar-store headphones when we first got together. A few weeks later he asked where I was and I told him I was at the mall with a friend. He showed up and wordlessly gave me brand-new Samsung Galaxy earbuds before driving home lmao. Then a couple weeks after that he bought me new AirMaxes and made it a point to tell me that my existing sneakers were so cheap. And that he got good ones for me in a style that "makes your feet look smaller." I guess my foot size was not to his liking. Lol. I'm almost 6 feet tall and wear size 9.5/10 women's shoes (for males reading this, that is around 8/8.5 in your sizes, so don't start, pls

A previous ex of mine (Cancer Sun) also had Virgo Mars (and Venus) but he had the opposite ick - he didn't like that I always wore nice jeans and blouses even if we were only going to Walmart or his friends' houses. Apparently, it was "off-putting" for him that I was "too fancy, never just dress down and look comfortable, even in the house." I was like... but I am comfortable? And he would be like, "Nah you're so fancy all the time, it's kinda weird, like do you even own any sweatpants? Your hair is never messy? It's like you're never just relaxed."

Um, as a Scorpio Venus/Jupiter, Libra Mercury person, messy hair will never be in the same room as comfortable for me but we are broken up for a reason, LOL.

Yeah Virgo Mars are just really, really picky. Idk how else to put it. They might be bothered by very different things, but they're all bothered in general! Love 'em regardless, they're also attentive and will know what you like and also what you need.

Leo Mars in 2nd house can have a hard time feeling satisfied with what they own or with their level of skill in certain areas. They don't usually express envy outwardly though. They will happily gas up their friends and colleagues, but implode on themselves in private.

They can have frequent pity parties or episodes of extreme self-loathing that only their closest friends or partners ever witness. It can be difficult to pull them out of these moods as they tend to feel like they either don't have enough or are not enough in some way.

Aquarius Eros men and masculine people are often attracted to women and feminine people with strong or eccentric personalities. They lust after the kinds of people who didn't even bother rocking the boat and jumped out to swim upstream and chill somewhere else.

However, unless they have Juno in Aquarius, Aquarius 7H or some other placements that support long-term relationships/marriages/longevity with unusual people or non-traditional elements, they eventually abandon such love interests for someone who fits better into societal expectations. Ask me how I know. :(

#astrology observations #astrology #astro notes #astro observations #astrology tumblr #astrology notes #astrology signs #astrology blog #astro posts #helslastangel #random observations

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facts-i-just-made-up · 10 months ago

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Writing Advice From Various Authors!

Writing fiction isn’t easy but it can be fun and rewarding once you get the hang of it. It’s helpful to look at the advice of popular authors to find your groove. Here are various writers and their advice on writing:

Ernest Hemingway

“Write drunk and edit sober?” I never said that. Do both drunk, wimp.

William S. Burroughs

Just goddamn write and don't damn censor yourself or you should be hanged like a twink what's set aflame as he’s hanged on rope made of the lies and deceits of the city, the cursed city, the lugubrious city.

Yukio Mishima

You cannot capture beauty in words. Instead, die very painfully on someone's office floor, in that alone there is beauty.

Stephen King

Write six pages a day and don’t cut anything, even if everyone says “Stephen, for the love of god don’t write that, the rest of the novel is great but please don’t include that, what are you thinking?”

Cormac McCarthy

do whatever you want dont even use punctuation then people will think youre brilliant for some reason for each writer is the writer of all writers who suffers the sins of all men

J.K. Rowling

It’s critical to teach tolerance, understanding, and compassion in your books. Then and only then will people believe you when you tell them to hate and harm the people you tell them to.

E.L. James

Put your pen to paper so hard it can poke past that thin membrane page and plunge hard into your imagination. Write with strokes gentle and firm that make the reader soaked in their own gratification and struggle to close the book back up again, so hard did they break its spine in the throws of their perusal.

Hunter S. Thompson

The hell are you asking son don’t you dare YOU GET OFF MY PROPERTY! I invited you? Maybe but it won’t make you less dead THIS IS THE TIME WHEN THE WORD IS MADE FLESH! Republican meat needs no salt.

Ari Bach

#writing #amwriting #boolkr #authots #theyre like authors but spelled wrong #cw rowling mention #unreality

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jo-speaks · 10 months ago

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please please please ft. jack hughes

in which...

you're aware of Jack's reputation with girls, but you know he'll be different with you.

track two in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series!

I know I have good judgment

I know I have good taste

It's funny and it's ironic

That only I feel that way

I promise 'em that you're different

Your sister stared at your phone, a picture of the one and only Jack Hughes on it. The look on her face was one of confusion and slight disgust. “That’s… your boyfriend?”

“Well don’t get too happy about it.” You answered, pursing your lips together as you turned off your phone.

She rolled her eyes, “Y/N, he looks like a frat boy who drinks every other hour and fucks a different girl every night.”

Before you could respond, her phone rang. She excused herself into the living room, leaving you pondering on your queen-sized bed. Your sister was partially right, he did have a reputation for being, for lack of better words, a fuck boy.

Ever since he got drafted when he was 18, the number of girls that entered his dm’s was despicable. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t respond to them, getting a few relatively censored pictures in return.

But with age comes maturity. Once he met you, he knew he found his person.

No more DM’s. No more hookups. No more girls. Just you, and only you.

Your sister reentered the room, “Sorry. Mom just wanted to know if I was showing up to meet your boy toy this weekend.”

“I promise you. He’s different.”

And everyone makes mistakes

But just don't

“Do you not trust me? We’ve been over this, babe.” Jack stated, wrapping his arm around your waist as you got into bed with him.

You looked up at him as you rested your head on his bare chest. “I do trust you. But you have to understand why they’re worried about me dating you, Jack.”

His body tensed up, and his hold on your body loosened. You could feel the gentle rise and fall into his chest speeding into a rapid pace. Family meant everything to Jack and you knew that, so you couldn’t imagine how he felt at the idea of your family not liking him just because of stupid decisions he made in the past.

“Sorry. Maybe when we all have dinner tomorrow I can clear that up. I want them to like me, Y/N.” He whispered.

I heard that you're an actor

So act like a stand-up guy

“So. You’re Jack.” Your father said, eyes trailing up and down his figure.

Your boyfriend gulped slightly, trying to keep his composure. “Yes sir. A pleasure to meet you.” He didn’t reply, choosing to stare the boy down instead.

“Dad.” You warned.

Wanting to break up all the awkwardness, your mother introduced herself, giving Jack a warmer welcome than your father. She took his hand and dragged him into the house, leaving you and your dad standing tensely in the doorway.

“I don’t like him. Who the hell does he think he’s impressing with that ‘yes sir’ crap?”

You groaned softly, “Dad, I really like him. Can you please just give him a chance? I promise you he’s a really great guy once you get to know him.”

Your dad stared at you blankly, “How many girls do you think he’s gotten to believe that? Your sister came over yesterday to talk to us. Told us all about him.”

“Yeah, well he’s changed. And whether you choose to believe that or not, all I ask is for you to treat him with a little bit of respect. Please.”

He didn’t respond verbally, opting for a simple sigh and nod as he led the two of you into the house.

Whatever devils inside you

Don't let him out tonight

I tell them it's just your culture

And everyone rolls their eyes

Yeah I know

Maybe it was a mistake bringing your parents to the Devils vs. Kings game. You had never seen Jack as rilled up as he was tonight, but you were sitting close enough to the glass to hear his opponent chirping him about his size. Jack had enough of the cheap shots, choosing to slash and rough around a little bit with the bigger man.

Your mom laughed softly as he got dragged to the penalty box. You looked up, pointing out the camera focused on Jack displayed on the jumbotron.

“People pay to watch me play!” Jack yelled, his voice slightly audible from the other side of the rink at which you were sitting.

While you and your mom giggled about the comment made by your boyfriend, your dad shook his head. “Real classy.”

You sighed, “Dad, please. It’s just hockey culture. He didn’t mean it.

He simply rolled his eyes, “I’m telling you, sweetie. A temper like that doesn’t only exist while he’s playing.” He said, crossing his arms before pulling out his phone to scroll mindlessly on it.

All I'm asking baby

Please please please don't prove em’ right

Jack threw his equipment bag into the trunk of your car, shaking the vehicle slightly as you got into the passenger seat. However, he stopped you before you could buckle in.

“Can you drive?” He mumbled, “If I get behind the wheel right now, I swear to God, I might crash it.”

You simply nodded, stepping out so he could step in. You walked around the car, seeing Jack inside the car, looking out the window into the dark, night sky. Since you didn’t lack common sense, you decided to stay quiet and let his mind run wild. Handling three straight losses isn’t easy on an athlete, especially if that athlete is Jack Hughes.

The half-hour drive back to his Hoboken apartment was mostly silent, other than the occasional sniffle from Jack, his body getting used to being warm after almost six hours at the rink.

After a few more minutes, it grew old. “You okay?”

He scoffed, “Yeah, I’m totally fine after losing, that makes total sense, Y/N.”

“Okay, no. I didn’t do anything to you, so lose the damn attitude because the only thing I’m trying to do is make you feel better.”

“Well maybe use your brain and don’t ask me stupid questions like that when you can clearly see that I’m not.” He retorted, turning his head to look at you.

You furrowed your eyebrows, severely disliking his tone but ultimately too tired to snap back, resorting to a deep sigh and a quiet, “Okay, Jack.”

Pulling the car into the driveway of his apartment, you waited for him to unbuckle his seatbelt and get out of the car. He didn’t, rather letting out a breath and reaching over to grab your hand. “I’m sorry. You’re right, you didn’t do anything to me and I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“It’s fine, Jack.” You mumbled, not meeting his gaze.

He gently cupped your face with his right hand, softly forcing you to look at him, which you reluctantly did. “It’s not fine. You’re my girlfriend and I promise you that will never happen again.”

You nodded, silently thanking him before leaning in to kiss his chapped lips.

Please please please

Don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice

Heartbreak is one thing

My egos another

I beg you don't embarrass me

Mother fucker ohhh

Please please please

‘Jack Hughes seen with beautiful lady at local Jersey bar. New girlfriend in the NHL superstars’ life?’

You read the headline, immediately throwing your phone from your vanity seat onto your bed. The tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over if you blinked. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to hold back the river that began spilling from your eyes. The mascara entering your eyes was a pleasurable burn due to it distracting you from what had caused the situation to unfold in the first place.

Was he cheating on you? Is this just another gossip site desperate for attention?

“Woah! Hey, what happened?” Jack called out, snapping you out of your spiral.

Unable to form words, you just handed him your phone, looking up at him with an expression of hurt and worry.

You watched as his eyes shifted from left to right, reading the article with furrowed eyebrows. When he was done, he let out a sigh and wiped his face then ran the same hand through his hair.

He set the phone down, squatting down to be on eye level with you. “Baby, I swear it’s not what it looks like.”

“Then what? Because to me, what it looks like is that you were getting nice and cozy with that girl.” You scoffed, trying to turn your chair away from him.

His reflexes were quick enough to stop that, not wanting the conversation to end before he had the chance to explain himself. “Listen to me. Lukey was eyeing her all night. I wanted to be a good big brother and try to set that up. That picture was just taken at a bad time, but I swear to you that’s all it was.”

“Then why the hell was her hand on your shoulder like that?” You cried out, your sobs breaking your voice.

“She did that! I took it right off immediately after, I swear. You have to believe me, Y/N. I would never even think about doing that to you.” He pleaded, not wanting everything the two of you had just because of some touchy girl at the bar.

You tried to calm yourself, wanting to stop the tears but you couldn’t. You believed him, you truly did, but just the idea of him with another woman made you sick to your stomach.

“Okay.” You eventually managed to croak out. “I believe you.”

He pulled you into a tight hug, the mascara running down your cheeks staining his white dress shirt. “I promise I will never, ever, do that to you.”

Well I have a fun idea babe

Maybe just stay inside

I know you're craving some fresh air

But the ceiling fan is so nice

“Do you have to go?” You asked, intertwining your legs with his as you lay on the couch.

He chuckled, “Yes, I do. It’s an event for kids, Y/N. I can’t miss it.”

“But it’s so nice in here! We’ve got Netflix and A/C. What more could you want?”

“Fresh air, maybe?” He said with a teasing tone, “I haven’t been out in so long, I need vitamin D.”

You wiggled your eyebrows, “Or vitamin me.” Jack gagged at your joke, pressing himself away from you as you laughed maniacally from your spot on the couch. “I’m definitely going after that awful joke.”

Once you calmed down, you groaned dramatically, tightening your grip on him, “Anything I can do to convince you to stay?”

“Maybe one thing.” He smirked, leaning up to peck at your neck and jawline. “Grow three more heads and a penis and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Not funny, Hughes.”

And we could live so happily

If no one knows that you're with me

I'm just kidding

But really (Kinda)

Really

“Can I post this?” Jack asked, crossing his arm over your waist to show you his phone.

It was a picture of the two of you sitting on the boat and smiling at each other. A cute photo, truly, but your face was on full display. Jack noticed your questioning stare, leaning up on her elbow so he could see you better.

“I don’t know, Jack. I’d rather you not.”

“Okay… can I ask why? I think it’s a cute photo.”

You let out a soft breath, “I’ve seen the comments under some of your posts. I just don’t want anyone saying anything about us.”

He nodded slowly, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but why do you care so much? It’s just a bunch of fifteen-year-old girls who think they have a chance with me.”

You let out a laugh at his comment, “It’s not that I care, I just don’t think I want to put us out there. Not yet, at least.”

“Gotcha. So I can’t post you at all? Or can I do this one?” He showed you his phone again after a few swipes of his thumb, his screen displaying a picture of him Titanic-ing you on the edge of the boat. Your back was to the camera, but he had turned around to look at his brother, giving Ellen the perfect chance to capture his laughter in the image.

Smiling at the picture, you nodded, giving him the okay.

Please please please don't prove I'm right

Please please please

Don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice

Jack’s rough hands over your eyes weren’t the most pleasurable feeling. He wasn’t paying attention to his subconscious choice to press the pads of his fingers into your eyes, so you were mumbling constant, “Jack.”s the whole way to wherever he was taking you.

Why he couldn’t have just gotten a blindfold was beyond you.

After a few more steps and the familiar creak of the door, he removed his hands. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the light. Once you did, you saw a bunch of red, pink, and white decorations hanging in the kitchen, a small cake in the middle with little figures of you and Jack on the top of it.

You gasped softly, taking in the scene. You knew Jack was never one to go above and beyond for silly little holidays like Valentine’s Day. He knew you were a sap for celebrating anything and everything, so he figured you would like it.

Jack had turned to admire his handiwork, but by the time he turned back to you, tears were streaming down your face as an upside-down smile covered your face. He couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction.

“You aren’t supposed to cry!” He exclaimed in between short laughs.

You sniffled, “I know! But how can I not?”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you into a tight hug as he swayed you softly, your dramatic cries turning into laughs once you got over the initial shock.

“Thank you, Jack. I love it.”

He placed a soft kiss atop your head, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”

Heartbreak is one thing

My egos another

Jack stormed into your apartment, startling you from your place on the couch. You had forgotten you gave him a spare key.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked, immediately standing up once you saw the look on his face.

His eyes were red, as well as the rest of his face. “Shoulder.” Was the only word he was able to get out before tears of frustration began spilling from his face.

You had never seen Jack this vulnerable, so you had no idea what to do. You guided him to the couch, gently pulling him into your arms.

He eventually calmed down, taking a few deep breaths. You didn’t give him the chance to speak before you chirped in. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

“Talked to the PT guy. I’m out for the season.” He explained, his voice trembling.

You let out a sympathetic sigh, “I’m so sorry, Jack.”

He shook his head, “No. I should’ve listened to you when you told me to rest it. But my dumbass ego decided to ignore you. And now look what it got me.”

“Hey. This is in no way your fault. Could you have rested? Yes. But, if the trainers didn’t believe you were fine enough you wouldn’t even have had the choice to pick.” You placed your hand on his non-injured shoulder, “You picked your team. You picked the game that you love. You went all the way until it stopped you and that is not your fault.”

Taking a minute to process your words, Jack blinked, his eyes never leaving yours. He opted to not respond, instead just leaned his body into you, wanting to be held.

“I’ve got you, my love. No matter what you have to do or how long it takes, I’m here for you every step of the way.”

“Thank you.” Was the last thing he mumbled before settling in the warmth of your chest, pushing you back onto the couch so the two of you could sleep.

I beg you don't embarrass me

Mother fucker ohhh

Please please please

“All right. Big impression number two.” Jack joked, trying to ease your nerves.

He had met your parents. Now it was time for you to meet his grandparents. You had already met Jim and Ellen, but somehow meeting their parents seemed a lot more intimidating.

Jack noticed your eyes trained on the floor, so he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, causing your gaze to shift to him.

“They’ll love you. I’ve told them how helpful you’ve been throughout this whole thing and they said they can’t wait to meet you. Just relax.” He explained, his words calming you just a bit.

One knock from the door was all it took before Ellen opened the door, immediately pulling you in for a hug. “Hi! How are you?”

You laughed at her joyful reaction, “I’m doing great, you?”

She let out a sigh, “Jim’s mother is driving me nuts. I swear, you can’t cook one meal without that woman getting involved. I love her but, jeez.” She turned her attention to her second son, “How are you, Jack? How’s the shoulder?”

“It’s getting there. As for your Nana problem, I’m sure Y/N could be a good mediator,” Jack suggested, sending you a wink as you turned to look back at him with wide eyes.

Ellen gasped, “Oh you’re right! Would you mind, Y/N?”

You hesitated, “Um. Sure, why not?”

Jack’s mom pulled you by the hand into the kitchen, Jack’s laughter fading behind you as he stepped into the warmth of the house, shutting the door behind him.

If you wanna go and be stupid

Don't do it in front of me

If you don't wanna cry to my music

Don't make me hate you prolifically

Please x9

“Goddamn it, Jack.” You mumbled to yourself, seeing his sling on the kitchen bar with a sticky note with ‘sorry! <3” on it in rushed handwriting.

He had told you he was just going to go watch his Dad and brothers golf but had a change of plans. You sighed and pulled out your phone, taking a picture of the scene in front of you and sending it to Jack.

y/n

Seriously?

jack

Whoops

You let out a grumble at his response, grabbing the sling and the keys to the golf cart before driving up to the country club.

After a few circles around the holes, you spotted Jack and his family. You stepped on the pedal, rushing to get up before Jack had a go.

“Alright, Jacky. Your go.” Quinn stated, sitting in the golf cart, ready to observe his brother’s swing.

Unfortunately for Jack, you were faster. “Jack Rowden Hughes!”

The Hughes’ men’s eyes widened at the sound of your voice, especially Jack’s. They all turned around to look at you, a look in your eyes that could only be described as crazy.

You stomped over to Jack, ignoring the rest of the guys. You shoved the sling into his chest, crossing your arms immediately after.

“Jack, you can’t be golfing right now! The doctor said you have two more weeks with that thing!” You exclaimed.

Quinn spoke up, “Two weeks? Rowdy, you told us your doctor cleared you.”

Jack let out a sigh as his cover had been blown, “Just wanted to golf.” He mumbled.

You scoffed, “I’ve worked my ass off for you and this is what you do? I’ve taken care of your meds, when you’re supposed to take them, washing that thing for you because you couldn’t. Doing all the work around your house so that you wouldn’t have to and Luke could focus on finishing his rookie year, and this is what you do?”

Everyone was silent as you scolded Jack, knowing fully well you were right. You had picked up the slack around his and Luke’s shared apartment throughout his recovery, and the fact that he wanted to disregard all of that for a game of golf was disrespectful.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath, “I just wanted to get out here before summer’s over and Quinn leaves for Vancouver and Luke and I for Jersey. All I wanted was a normal summer, leave my injury at the door, you know?”

You gave him a soft smile, “I get that, but Jack. You’re almost at the point where you can do all of this, without having to worry about anything else. You’ve worked so hard and sacrificed so many things for this, don’t throw it away for something you can do in two weeks.”

“She’s right, son.” Jim spoke, “We know you love golfing, but you love hockey just as much. Don’t ruin the progress you’ve made, all right?”

Jack nodded, “Yeah. Thanks, Dad.” He shifted his attention back to you. “Thank you, Y/N. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Probably light yourself on fire.” Luke chirped, gaining a laugh from all of you.

You pulled Jack into a hug, taking his hand and guiding him to sit next to his brother.

#nhl hockey #nhl #new jersey devils #jh86 #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #nj devils #jack hughes x you #jo's september series

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scivors · 9 months ago

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Andre Nikto head canons

We have little information about Niko but here's what I've gathered..

((Also I'd like to kindly add, hi, hello, my name is Mika and I am a Bosnian. The chances of me adding some accurate slav head canons are always high but never low!!🙏🏻 ALSO IM TERRIBLY OBSESSED WITH NIKTO SO IF ENJOY THIS AND YOU WANT DATING NIKTO HEAD CANONS PLEASE LET ME KNOWWW))

Genuine head canons:

Andre Nikto (Никто) is a (scary) Russian military man, roughly 193/194 centimetres (when you compare him to Simon's height) He suffers with acute dissociative disorder (better said DID) yet is still serving the military cause of how he preforms during battle.., so the military still views him as a ideal soldier for combat despite his disorder..

No hate but from what I've seen in some art works claiming it's his "face reveal" you people have to understand that under his mask, his face is disfigured.. so, no he won't be an attractive super model under that mask of his..

I don't think you people are aware how badass Nikto is as a character, almost SIMILAR as Ghost who's in the military for the same reason as everybody else, to risk their life.

Although judging by Nikto's voice lines, he doesn't care who he's killing..if it were up to him, if his teammates serve him zero purpose he'd care less if they die..(after all, you're just a target..) but being a professional, he can't allow that to happen to his teammates

If you look up closely, Nikto wears a military uniform that is different from everyone else with MP-0 written on it. Now if you don't know, MP stands for Military Police (enforcement agencies connected with, or part of, the military of a state.) and zero next to it meaning "nothing" and this is important which is what Nikto refers himself as..

Yeah so about that..

I have a theory about Nikto's nickname

After being captured and brutally tortured with whatever sick tendency mister Z had in store for him. It was Mister Z that couldn't really get much Information about Andre.

They would start torturing him while repeating to Andre that he's nothing, he's no one, what he is is nothing but what he is is everything. Those words play in the back of his head and they never seen to go away.

(This is extremely relevant cause Mister Z tried to get to know a bit of Andre by looking through some research come to find his citizenship and language are censored making him a nobody. Keep in mind, if he found any information about Andre viewing from personal life etc. it will be used as blackmail..)

After recovering his scars and taken to therapy after 7 years he was diagnosed with DID

NOW moving on to the DID part

(What I said about the fact that people overlook Nikto's disorder, I mean it..

Some don't really write about his disorder which is fine but when someone does it gets messy. )

Alters aren't easy to deal with, it's actually gonna haunt you till the day that you die cause there's no cure for it. And in Nikto's case it's from PTSD and Nikto is very aware of his alters..

Let me tell you how Nikto's disorder affects him. Switching can be consensual, forced or triggered, Nikto values silence as much as the next person cause he's dealing with much inside his head already. The kind of guy that would "watch TV" while dissociating with a 100 yard glare with very slow blinking and a slight headache..

There are times where his personalities would correct him when hes referring to himself (example: I'm up..(his personality correctes him) WE'RE up..)

"He made us do this" (and other voice lines I can't recall..)

Maybe cut bits of an apple with a knife and eat it while watching TV..

He has medication prescribed for him but he didn't wanna depend on medications cause they're just drugs..they're nothing to him but just drugs..

He has dissociative amnesia too, sometimes he would wander around confused maybe even annoyed. The amnesia appears to be caused by traumatic or stressful experiences endured or witnessed..Although the forgotten information may be inaccessible to consciousness, it sometimes continues to influence behavior

Like I said he likes quiet people, someone who doesn't waste their air on small talk..

Example; don't really talk to him about the weather, unless you have something interesting to say but if the conversation is gonna go nowhere , don't talk..he finds that a waste of time

People assume just because he's Russian that he likes vodka, he doesn't like vodka...-He doesn't like any alcoholic beverage cause it makes his problems a lot worse,...maybe If you were lending him some as an offering, he'll take it but he has SOME self control, he's okay with coffee, though..

It's relevant cause he stays awake at late hours since he finds it difficult to sleep, he'll stay up late with no music, nothing, just a silent room. It doesn't matter if he tries the military tactic where you just close your eyes and turn off your thoughts, it's very different when you have voices screaming inside your head...

Despite everything he's still intelligent, so being smart + strength + sharp reflexes and you got yourself a criminal

Death doesn't phase him, but to him death is like sleeping, he's not scared of death considering that he's been through hell those past few months.

He likes the simple things, don't complicate anything..because he's quick with catching an attitude..be blunt and forward and stumble over your words..

Nikto shows confidence in the battlefield,just like König, except he has a high rush of adrenaline and will laugh at the enemies death.

Fun fact: in this one comic Price calls Nikto "psycho"

And it's without a doubt that he is one.., a sadistic, sociopathic, psychopath

After splitting, his alters can and will get more aggressive and do more harm and damage to others cause they're doing the most at protecting the host.. (depending on the alter, some wanna protect him while some wanna hurt him)

Oh by the way about the intelligence part, I mean he has a good good memory with remembering faces..

He doesn't like people looking at him funny, he'll get angry really fast and annoyed at the same time.., he won't show hesitation when it comes to approaching you and asking you what are you looking at (it's like trying to avoid eye contact with a homeless man Infront of a store, that's how scared you would be)

He's slow with jokes or any form of humor that you throw at him??? You'll be excited to tell him a joke, and when you do he just looks at you and tells you never to do that again..,or just straight up tell you he doesn't get it...??? and probably trying to explain it either he gets it or not he'll still tell you that it's not funny

He doesn't argue, or he does? Arguing with him will costs you avoiding getting objects thrown at you so you can get out of his sight..tragic, now you have a teammate that hates your guts and won't apologize for it.

#nikto x reader #andre nikto #cod nikto #cod mw2 #nikto #modern warfare #modern warefare ii #call of duty nikto

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aropride · 2 months ago

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i like[1] this website because a joke post u made in 3 seconds[2] vaguely complaining about something that does not matter[3] will get 15k notes in a matter of days and then people will misinterpret it in wild & unpredictable & cynical ways possible. Like before responding in a hostile manner to a post maybe stop[4] and go "is it possible that op did not set out to make a post commenting in a serious manner about a serious problem"[5] "is it possible that op did not sit down before posting to ensure that there is no possible way their[6] post could be read in a bad light"[7] "am i picking up on an implication that is actually there or are my own life experiences informing my view of this post in a way that may not be accurate"[8] etc. like would it kill[9] people to be a little less quick to lash out when it is fully possible they may be misunderstanding something[10]

---

[1] this is sarcasm, i do not like when people do this.

[2] this is an exaggeration, it often takes more than three seconds to type a post.

[3] sometimes a post may be complaining about something that Does matter. this post is not claiming that most or all posts are about something that does not matter. likewise, the idea that something "doesn't matter" has been used to downplay the struggles of marginalized communities, and some things online do, in fact, matter. this post, however, is about shit that does not matter

[4] OP is not insisting you do this. there is no manipulation, coercion, or violation of consent; you are not forced to do anything you don't want to to. you are not being silenced or censored.

[5] the original poster may have meant to make a silly post about a serious issue, or a silly post about a silly issue. oftentimes, posts are not meant to be all-encompassing thesis statements on broad social issues addressing all the possible pitfalls of a certain argument as well as what lends credence to it

[6] the use of the neutral pronoun "they" in this sentence is due to its reference to a hypothetical person or group of people rather than any specific individual who may or may not use they/them pronouns. it is not an attempt to actively misgender or degender anybody. for further clarity, OP is fully supportive of trans and nonbinary people and is in fact a member of the trans community

[7] while OP has ocd, it seems an unnecessary addition to this post, but he has noticed a trend of general anxiety-related behaviors being attributed to ocd when that is not necessarily the cause of such behaviors. he therefore finds it worth saying that people without ocd who have been on tumblr for a long time are also prone to this behavior, as being misinterpreted is incredibly common online, and does not necessarily indicate the presence of obsessive-compulsive disorder. i.e., sometimes people just worry about stuff

[8] accurate meaning, here, accurate to the intent of the original poster. it is not meant to state that a person's emotions about a post are "wrong" or that they are misinterpreting their own feelings. additionally, it is reasonable that a person's experiences would influence their view of the world; it is equally reasonable to expect them to think before being aggressive towards strangers online

[9] this is a turn of phrase, not meant to state that any lives will actually be ended by this action. this footnote is also not meant to imply anything negative about those who experience anxiety around the concept of death

[10] OP is relinquishing himself from the responsibility[11] of this post[12]. if it gains sentience and runs off to colorado to rob a bank and go on a killing spree that is not his fault

[11] whether or not a person can truly be relinquished from the consequences of any of their actions is a matter of debate irrelevant to this post

[12] OP is aware that this post opens him up to receiving many identical and increasingly unfunny comments intentionally misconstruing his words or intentions. he is nicely asking you not to do that because it's very exhausting

#text #does everybody like my post it took me a long time

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trippinsorrows · 7 months ago

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in your hands + three

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

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

warnings: fluff and a tiny bit of smut

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

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

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

Solana frowns. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, yes, but—”

“And the S-E-X was great?”

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

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

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

One

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

An actual father who wanted to be in her life.

If only.

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

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

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

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

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

If anywhere.

—-----------

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

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

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

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

“Ladies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is your hairline still uneven?”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Ursula.”

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

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

Life is just ironic like that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes widen.

Baby.

Lord Jesus, be a fence.

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

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

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

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

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

“Kayden.”

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

“The annoying, irrelevant neighbor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Solana has to roll her eyes at that.

Like that would ever happen.

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

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

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

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

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

“Kayden!”

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

“What is your definition of decent?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Especially at a department store like Macy’s.

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

With him.

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

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

“But—”

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

He certainly does, it seems.

—-------

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mama!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How rich is this man?

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

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

If he even checks that.

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

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

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

He looks perplexed. “While you cook?”

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

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

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

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

“Where’s the baby section?”

“Roman!”

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

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

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

—---------

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

Thousands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cook?”

“Yeah.”

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

A perfect shape.

“Why don’t you?”

“Cook more?”

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nods. “Since I was six.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s…..different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck?

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

What to make of any of it.

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

Almost….almost peaceful.

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

“It’s fine,” he answers, honestly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—---------

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

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

Rosalia has always disliked being kept out of the loop.

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

Raya, too, for that matter.

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

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

Dean Ambrose: Yo. What ya wanting done?

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

Ever.

Or anyone, for that matter.

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

Not yet, anyway.

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

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

Dean Ambrose: You got it, dude.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Always.

“Hey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And doesn’t want to let go.

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

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

Her intentions are pure.

Just like her.

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

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

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

She looks uncomfortable, frowning almost, “Roman—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Roman smiles. Music to his fucking ears.

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

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

He won’t need them anytime soon.

Or at all, tonight.

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

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