#it's just a lil guy who likes egg

[guckies]

The warden “prank”… I know it is somewhat far from the home, but it could possibly end up hurting Leo or Sunny who supposedly have no idea its there. Which is just so annoying considering there was barely any reason for a prank with this deadly of a mob where two kids live. Hopefully it won’t do anything and someone will take care of it before it actually kills an egg. But all I’m saying is if it was another eggs home… ✋🫥🤚

[arolesbianism]

I <3 transmasc Wendy because it adds another thing to the kid who does not know how to handle anything being thrown into everything pile but instead of a thing like dead sister it's the prospect that he kind of likes having short hair and the idea of being a guy and it still makes him feel like the world is ending until suddenly the ppl around him are just like fine with it and everything is like cool actually and he melts over that too until finally he's just a normal baby trans person and can get back to being bad at coping with his other hashtag issues again

[pynkfairyheart]

Pairings: connie x black reader

Warnings: smut 18+ Connie's a lil toxic, mentions of a gun, pretty angsty

pt.2 to birthday girl but can be read as a standalone

Miss you

Constance Springer. The man who was once the source of your happiness though recently the source of your frustration and headaches.

“I just don't get it, Con. You take me on these amazing dates, buy me anything that catches my attention, and say you wanna spend the rest of your life with me, yet when I ask to publicly announce we’re together, which I shouldn't have to, you always brush it aside.” You spoke as calmly as possible. Though considering this was the 4th time this week you were having this conversation your calm tone resembled shouting.

It had been five months since your birthday. Five months since Connie gave you the best gift you could ever think of. Himself.

The first four months felt as if you were on cloud nine. The entire duration it was as if you were conjoined at the hip. Connie had to make a couple of drops? There you were in his passenger seat watching a movie or using his card to pay for the large quantity of your cart.

You needed to go make up a missed exam? Connie was waiting in his car with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. The only time you weren't seen together was if he was doing something he didn't want you involved in or if he was out buying you secret lavish gifts such as the car he got you a week after your birthday. Life was great.

It wasn't til you were at your nail appointment with Mika where she nearly cut you with her clippers from shock the moment you brought up your relationship with Connie, that you realized no one knew about it.

At first, you were confused. How could no one know? You were always together but the more you thought about it you started to understand. Whenever you were out he wasn't as affectionate as when it was just the two of you, just a few touches that could easily be considered friendly, but you just brushed it off as him not being comfortable with PDA.

Even when you went on dates he'd buy the entire venue or restaurant out so it'd be just you two or would plan the nicest dates at the house, either way, no one saw you on dates as a couple.

You thought about it for a while before it finally ate you up and you just had to ask. His response was the reason shit went left.

“Whatchu mean let people know we’re together? Ion want people in our business. I'm yours and you're mine, that's all that matters” He brushed it off with a kiss on your forehead before running to go get some eggs around the corner. He was only gone for ten minutes yet in that time frame you went through hundreds of different reasons as to why he responded that way.

At first, you were confused. Then, you were trying to reassure yourself he's right as long as we know then we straight. But immediately after that thought came anger why the fuck doesn't he want people to know? Am I the fuckin side chick?

By the time Connie came back you were fuming. You trusted Connie, the night he asked you to be his he promised you he'd never do anything to hurt you yet you couldn't deny how suspicious this was. He barely had time to lock the door behind him before you started with your questions.

“You cheating on me Constance?”

“What?” He almost gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned, looking at you as if you had said the stupidest shit ever which in his mind you did.

“You heard me. Are you cheating?” You followed him into the kitchen of his apartment.

“No [☆] I'm not cheating. I needa take you to the ER? Cause it sounds like you hit your head while I was gone”

“Then why don't you wanna tell anyone?”

“About us?”

“Duh”

“I already told you, mami, I don't want people all up in our business”

That was two weeks ago and you guys were nowhere near in a better place. By no means were you insecure. You knew Connie loved you and only you but you wanted others to know as well. It's not like you wanted to leak one of your many sex tapes on IG. You just wanted at least your friend group to know you were together. Connie wasn't having it though.

“Mama lower your tone” He groaned. Inked hands rubbing his face from frustration.

“Just tell me, Con. Why don't you want anyone to know?”

“Is it wrong to wanna keep our relationship private? I love you princess but you buggin’ for real. Drop it”

“You know what. Fuck this, nd fuck you too. There's a big fucking difference between private and secret.” You slammed his bedroom door. This was too much. You couldn't take it anymore; it was as if he was ashamed of you. You loved Connie, you really, really loved him but this hurt, the constant drop of your heart whenever he let go of your hand the moment you stepped out of his apartment complex or whenever a girl flirted with him in front of the group but there was nothing you could do. You were done. No amount of love could make you settle for anything less than you knew you deserved.

Despite your teary eyes you managed to pull yourself together. Grabbing your bag, you packed as much as possible before finally exiting the room.

Connie was in the middle of rolling a blunt when he saw you walk out, he would have been convinced that his heart was lying on the couch when he stood up if it wasn't for the loud thumping in his ears.

“Where are you going?” He stood in your way

“Connie please move” You sniffled

“No, not until you tell me where you're going. Please [☆] lo siento, mami, por favor, no te vayas please don't go” His voice cracked as reality hit him. Dropping to his knees, his hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips.

“I promise to be better, I promise. I will call everyone on my phone and tell them about us right now, please don't go” At this point, you had to look away. His tear-stricken face and Spanish almost had you fold.

“We'll work this out ma, estaré mejor, lo prometo I'll be better, I promise”

“No, we can't Connie. Not right now” And with that, you left.

A month had passed so far. It was rough in the beginning. He blew your phone up 24/7 to the point where you had to block him. You couldn't eat, and whenever you did have the energy to stay awake you did nothing but scroll on your phone, your thumb always finding the photo album where you stored all pictures of Connie.

Sasha and Mikasa finally had enough, while Mika was the only one you told Sasha had a pretty good idea after she went to visit Connie only to find him in the same state as you, maybe even worse. Deciding you needed to leave the walls of your apartment and have fun, they finally convinced you to go out. Taking a couple of pregame shots while shaking ass in the mirror, your outfit leaving nothing to the imagination as you finally felt ready to face reality.

By the time you had arrived at the party, the drinks started to kick in and you grabbed the first sexy guy you saw and dragged him to the dance floor.

Unknown to you Connie was also at the party, standing in the corner as he made a few deals. He looked tired, and he was. The moment the door closed behind you he broke down. Ignoring all of the calls and texts he got from clients as he sat there. He was angry. Angry at you for leaving him but mostly angry at himself for fucking up.

When Connie finally caught sight of you it was as if someone had finally flipped the switch on throughout his body. His heart sped up, his posture straightened and his dick twitched at the sight of your body in the dress.

His dick wasn't the only thing twitching. When it finally registered to Connie that you were letting some random guy touch you as you whined on him, his eye twitched and his hand immediately went to his gun.

He was furious. With zero fucks he approached you, the barrel of his gun pressed against the guy who you were currently throwing it back on.

When you no longer felt the swaying of the man behind you, you turned to be met with the fear-frozen stranger and Connie whispering something in his ear. You didn't have time to ask what was going on before the guy scurried off and Connie roughly grabbed your arm, dragging you out of the house party.

Despite the fact you were no longer together and he had no right to drag you away, you stayed quiet. Connie rarely got angry but when he did you knew it was best to just stay quiet.

“Get in the fucking car [☆]” He threw open the door. You were convinced the thong you had on was completely drenched after those six words. His voice was low and threatening and you almost felt disgusting from how turned on you were. Almost. With one look into his rage-filled eyes, you got in the car, the door slamming behind you when he was sure you were safely in.

He quickly got in, tire tracks marking the ground as he sped off. It was silent for a minute before you decided to speak, once his grip on the steering wheel loosened and the color returned to his knuckles.

“Connie?” You faced him, eyes burning into the side of his head as he kept his dark stare on the road.

“Connie, come on. You can't just kidnap me and then not speak. Pull over and talk to me now” You huffed.

With a roll of his eyes, he pulled into a deserted parking lot.

“Hello? Either you get to talking or I'm getting out nd calling an Uber”

“No the fuck you're not” He groaned loudly, eyes meeting yours.

“Then talk” You borderline yelled

If Connie's hair was long enough to grip he'd have a couple bald spots from how frustrated he was. He gave you both time to cool down before he spoke.

“Look I'm sorry for dragging you away, and for threatening your lil boyfriend-”

“He's not my boyfriend”

“He's not?”

“No. Continue your apology” You rolled your eyes.

Your response had a smirk forming on his face. He missed you so much, even your attitude.

“I missed you ma. I'm sorry for dragging you away. I'm also sorry for how things ended.” He grabbed your hand.

“I now understand your feelings and your concerns and I'm sorry I ever made you feel like I was ashamed of you or if there was another woman. You're the love of my life ma, this past month has been pure hell. I need you baby. Please take me back.” His hands were shaking as they held yours securely. It was rare to see Connie cry, and the sight of his tear-streaked face made your heart ache. He really did love you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat you asked the one question that started it all.

“Be real Con. Why didn't you want anyone to know?”

With a sigh, he rubbed his facial hair.

“I was afraid you'd realize you could do better”

“What? What made you think that Con?”

“I sell drugs for a living, mami, I'm involved with a shit ton of dangerous people. I was afraid when others found out they'd start telling you things about me and you'd realize you can do so much better”

“Oh, Connie” You could no longer resist the need to be close to him. Maneuvering yourself so you sat in his lap you cupped his face as your eyes searched his.

“Papa there is no one better. I love you so much, Connie. There is nothing anyone could ever say to make me want or love you less because I know you. I know how much you care and love those around you. There is no one better, Connie.”

For some time, the two of you were wrapped in each other's arms as you faced your emotions.

When you both were calm, you finally dared to look into his eyes. The energy shift resembling the one from your birthday.

“Con” You slowly inched your face closer to his

“I'm sorry for all the hurt I put us through mami” His hand wrapped around your neck

“Déjame compensarte let me make it up to you” He closed the space between you.

It felt like the first breath taken after being underwater for a long time. You felt alive, felt loved. The once slow kiss grew into something more passionate. Both of you needy, as you fiend for dominance in the heated exchange.

Ultimately you lost the battle when his hands gripped your hips tightly as if to assure himself you weren't leaving again. It wasn't soon after that you found yourself in the back of his car with your legs resting on his shoulder as he drilled into you.

He littered kisses on your ankle as his grip on your hips tightened. His thick cock stretching you out had your eyes rolling back and moans of ecstasy coming out of your agape mouth.

“Yeah? You doing so good fa me ma. You miss this? Miss how good I fuck you?” His thumb found its way to your clit.

“Fuck, Connie” You whined. Attempting to push his hand away from the sensitive bud.

“Answer me princesa or ima stop” He warned

“Yes, Connie- mhmph I miss it so bad papi oh my god” Your velvety walls squeezed him tight.

"Fuuuck. Don't ever leave me again, you hear me? I can't take it, baby, I love you too much. T-try that shit again nd Imma make you watch while I put a bullet in between his eyes. Understand?” His pace increased.

God that shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did. You were convinced you could have come on the spot, the added pressure on your carotids when you didn't answer immediately wasn't any help.

“Y-yes Con, I promise it won't happen again” You managed to say in between the moans and whimpers that you no longer had the energy to contain.

“Keep squeezing me, mami. I'm so fuckin close” He groaned, hand no longer on your neck as it rested against the steamy windows to stable himself.

The atmosphere of the car was pure filth. Your moans bounced off the windows, the sloshing sound of your wet pussy and slapping skin that created the creamy ring around the base of cock topping it all off.

His thrusts were slowly getting sloppy, you were just squeezing him so tight.

“C-Con” You managed to gasp out, the marks he littered on your neck to suppress his whimpers, having the coil in your belly tighten.

“I know mama, let go fa me” He groaned.

That instant you came, eyes rolling to the back of your head for a quick second as your cream and small spurts of squirt leaked from your pussy.

“Shit mama” He panted, dick twitching as he painted your walls with his cum.

Connie being the lover boy he was despite repeatedly denying it whispered apologies, and sweet promises into your ear as you came down from your high.

“I'm sorry mami, I promise to be better” He kissed you softly as if you were in a fairytale before whispering in your ear.

“But don't think just cus we're good now, that I'm not gon tear that ass up when we get home for giving that loser a taste of what's mine.”

I dont know how i feel about this one buuutttt all thanks to @masterofthepp for giving me this idea. Hopefully it meets your standards babes. As always any feedback is welcome. mwah

[kcrossvine-art]

Hi fellow adventurers!! Welcome to chapter 2! We're going to be attempting a nice lil fruit-focused quiche/frittata/pie thing. And yes, tomatoes are fruits.

Who says you cant eat totally normal things in a dungeon with definitely no monsters in them? 

You know what that means; Man-Eating Plant Tart!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to a Man-Eating Plant Tart?” YOU MIGHT ASKThe way its prepared in the show is akin to a frittata, but the crust is borrowed from quiche world.

Eggs

Whole milk

Bell peppers

Persimmons

Cherry tomatoes

Pitted green olives

Thinly sliced OR shredded sweet potatos

Salt

Pepper

In the show they use leftover hotpot stock, slime, and mashed up fruit as the batter ingredients. Fruit mush is easy to work with but I couldn't find any stand-in for slime that would cook correctly into what they made in the show, and the hotpot stock is just not thick enough to carry the base. It is too many watery ingredients at once. Needing a thickening agent, both gelatin and agar agar were tried. It was edible but the texture was… gelatinous. Regular egg and milk will serve for our purposes.

The next complication was the crust- so in the show its made with the skins of fruit, straightforward yeah? Well. You see it also has to be 1. Thick enough to bake without burning 2. Harden through cooking to be sliced and held and 3. Inedible. Lotus leaves? Plantain leaves? Really thin gourds? I couldnt find any historical basis for a savory food cooked in this method, or similar method, with an intentionally inedible crust. I could find a few dishes which used leaves as their crust, but none that hardened during cooking and even less that used fruit skin. I chose sweet potato skin for its visual match and texture. It is edible, and it is not a fruit.

I hope youll forgive me for these 2 major deviations as i wanted to keep it looking how it does in the show while also ensuring it tastes good.

AND, “what does a Man-Eating Plant Tart taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKFluffy, airy, savory, salty.

The density of the eggs is offset by the crisp fruits

And the saltiness doesnt overpower the remnant fruit-sweetness

(If you eat the crust) the sweet potato brings this nice muted, smokey, flavor

Spongecake-esque in consistency

Would pair well with cranberry or strawberry juice

Would also pair well with a mellow hot sauce?

. You can use heavy cream instead of milk for a creamier batter . Roast the fruit longer to remove more liquid if too wet (and vice versa if too dry) . Smoked paprika, pepper flakes, cumin, garlic powder, and onion powder would taste good in the mixture

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"A mixture of mashed up and cut up Man-Eating Plant fruit, slime and scorpion soup is poured into a pan lined with the flattened peel of the fruit and cooked before garnishing with some more fruit. Described as salty by the group."

From start to finish this recipe took 3-ish hours? Shredding the potatoes took the longest, so if you get them bagged itd be cut down. A very filling recipe and a good way to sneak veggies/fruits in if you have a hard time getting enough of those essential nutrients. The best advice i can give is to add salt/seasonings at every stage of the process, to build up layers. It makes a difference flavor-wise (even if its just salt). I advise against reheating if possible. The filling will make the crust soggy over time.

If you want to be closer to the cooking of the show, you could double the fruit amounts and mash them together while halving the amount of egg and milk. I hadnt tried due to budget reasons, but it should work with some finangling. I'll pass the final verdict off to you guys with how todays recipe turned out <333

What would you rate this recipe out of 10? (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Did you love it, did you hate it? What're your thoughts on what I could do better, and what would you have done instead?

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

3 Eggs

13oz whole milk

2 bell peppers

2 small persimmons

140oz cherry tomatoes

12oz pitted green olives

34oz thinly sliced OR shredded sweet potatos

Salt

Pepper

Method:

Heat oven to 420f and grease a 9-inch pie pan.

Thinly slice (or shred) your sweet potatoes and squeeze out any excess moisture. Coat in olive oil, salt and pepper.

Press sweet potato mixture evenly into and up the sides of the pie pan.

Blind bake for roughly 25 minutes or until lightly golden-brown. No worries if the edges get crisp.

Remove pie pan from oven and set aside.

Core and chop up your bell peppers and persimmons. Coat with olive oil, salt, and pepper.

Line out on a baking sheet, evenly spaced, and roast for roughly 20 minutes or until softened. (you can do this at the same time on a separate rack from the pie crust if you have room)

Remove the stems from your cherry tomatoes, and drain/dry your green olives if canned.

Bring a frying pan to medium heat with olive oil. Add the green olives and sautee until their skin texture starts dimpling. Add the cherry tomatoes and continue sauteeing for about 5 minutes or until lightly browned.

Once the bell peppers, persimmons, cherry tomatoes, and green olives are all done, set aside to cool until just above room temp.

Lower the oven temperature to 350f.

In a mixing bowl combine your eggs and milk, add salt to taste. If you want other seasonings nows a good time!

Once uniform in color and texture, add your cooked fruit. Stir until evenly distributed.

Pour mixture into the potato pie crust.

Bake for roughly 40 minutes. The filling should be mostly firm, but wiggle *slightly* when you shake the pan.

Remove from oven and let rest for roughly 15 minutes before serving.

[moneymartin]

kate hcs? like what u did w nika plsss

・❥・- gf!kate hcs

warnings: harddd smut under the divider at the end and suggestive content :p

afab!r

a/n: i genuinely love doing hcs more than writing full on fics cause my lord i cannot write a whole story without going off track and ruining the entire thing… got carried away like always. also this is longgg overdue as well. i’ve been procrastinating everything and i feel bad for not releasing anything sooner like i promised. thank you for being patient w me lolz

i’m glad that we all agree… kate is theeee golden retriever girlfriend

i mean who wouldn’t say that

blonde masc that gives off happy vibes and literally has a tattoo that says ‘sunshine’

treats you like a real fuckin’ princess like she knows what she’s doing

okay kate lovesssss the kids

her and carson are so adorbs 💔

when someone asks her what her profession is she is not gonna say a pro hooper

shes gonna say that shes carson’s aunt 😭

def takes you over to kennedy’s house when she’s gone and makes you babysit carson w her 🥹

loves when they hold her fingers she thinks its the cutest thing in the world and you photograph the whole thing

spoils you fosho!!!!

mention one lil thing and shes buying it for you

new clothes, bags, shoes, jewelry, accessories. ANYTHING YOU WANNTTT!!!

yk how she likes tswift…

takes you to a concert for your bday if you do too

and wears that stupid cowboy hat 😒

but you guys would be matching soooo

DEFINITELY loves physical touch

hands hands handssss

they’re all over you in public like she is not afraid to show people you’re hers 😩

on your waist or hips. her fingers are always on you somehow

also does it romantically like she’ll intertwine pinkies with you and always holds your hand no matter the situation

the thumb thing is her favorite

loves pda foshooooo

i don’t think she’d be possessive but i feel like shes the jealous type

sees you w a girl at the bar or sumn and starts to FREAK!

she’ll sit next to you immediately and is touching you all over so that the girl goes away 😭

or shes burying her face into your neck and kissing your skin in front of her

WHEW!!!

everyone can disagree w me on this but i see her as lil spoon when you guys cuddle…

FIGHT ME ALL YOU WANT BUT THIS GIRL LOVEEESSSS WHEN YOU PLAY W HER HAIR WHILE SHE SLEEPS

kisses your neck or your collar while shes half asleep 😣

back rubs are her fav thing too

shes the one getting them tho cause she’s always so tense after practice and she believes that if you do it she’ll feel better already

we all know shes a passenger princess.

she probably has a car but refuses to drive it alone when you’re there cause she thinks she’ll crash it or something

lets you wear her clothes

if she was taller (most likely) she’d have you in all her shirts and stuff cause they look bigger on you

you think you shouldn’t wear anything under cause it hides everything anyways and kate agrees

in reality she just loves the easy access…

total baby when she’s drunk

and super clingy :(

arguments don’t happen often but when they do it ends real fast cause she knows how to calm you down 🥹🥹🥹

if anything though the arguments start cause its about something real stupid

teaches you how to play basketball if it isn’t your sport

can’t cook for SHIET!!!! burns eggs easily or somethin like that cause she can’t bring herself to learn

knows how to bake tho 100%

super adventurous

have you guys seen the pic of her zip lining… like she’s fearless when it comes to that stuff

hits the gym and weight room every fuckin day w you so she can build those arms 🤫

spots you when you think its too hard

KATE IS A MUNCH

ik y’all have seen that pussy eater jaw…

kisses are her thing as well

making out w you is the highlight of her night week day whatever!

initiates it all the time cause she knows you love it too

whines during it too me thinks…

when she needs you to shut up during it i firmly believe that she’ll kiss you to muffle the noises 😩

she isn’t straightforward but when she wants to she’ll make it obvious.

GROANER AND GRUNTERRRRR FOR SURE

cusses all the time

hard breather too

she’ll breathe out a bunch of words that you can barely hear cause of your own noises 💀 but you love hearing them cause you know she’s engaged

her strap game is crazy though i can tell…

feel like she’d sometimes just wear it for fun

she’ll wear it just for the looks and not to use it on you 😭😭

she doesn’t wanna have sex w you for her pleasure b/c during it, everything is about YOUUU

your pleasure >>>>> anything else

soft dom 100% but will also switch sometimes if thats what you’re feeling

especially after games like she loves having sex after cause she knows you’ll do everything for her

FUCKIN LOVES WHEN YOU RIDE HER ITS HER FAVORITE THING EVER

always grabbing your hips really tight when you do and theres always marks afterwards on them

and she likes seeing your face when you’re on top

missionary is her thing

eye contact during sex is important

to her at least

LOVES DIRTY TALKING

degrades you but only when you’re being cocky about something while she fucks the shit outta you

i don’t think she’d be aggressive but she’d be a lil rough when she’s upset

hickeys.

leaves marks EVERYWHEREEE

in the most visible spots so that people can see them when you two are in public

only happens during makeout seshes or when you guys are havin your own time tho

she so talks you through it.

always reassuring and asking if you feel good or not

“is this okay?” “does that hurt?” “it’s okay, baby. i’m right here, i promise” “take your time” lil things like that

praises you hella too

call me cringe or whatever

but she’ll call you a good girl if she has to…

when she eats you out she’s SOOO FOCUSED

quiet the wholeeee time but you can feel her getting all breathy against you

kisses your thighs after you cum so you know she’s still there 😞❤️

aftercare queen

she’s already cleaning you up and getting you a new pair of clothes or running a warm bath for the both of you 🥸

[gremlingottoosilly]

Tag Team (dark!Price x fem!Reader x dark!Gaz)

Price and Gaz have absolutely zero thoughts against fucking a pretty civilian thing that was so conveniently kidnapped just for them. Dream team if you want to be squished between two big men with even bigger...hands.

TW and tags: non-con to dub-con, size difference, power imbalance, fingering, hurt/comfort(but it comes from the ones who hurt you), yandere, dark!141, possessive 141, obsessive 141, kidnapping. AO3

Price genuinely had a great day. He woke up at normal time, unlike always – not at 4 AM, with Lasswell urgently sending him a new assignment even though she was the one to convince him to take a break with his boys for a few weeks. 

He woke up at 9 AM – sleeping in, really, felt groggy and tired even after a shower and a cuppa with the best tea he could find at the local Tesco. So, the tea wasn’t very good – but he made the most of it, taking time to cook breakfast for himself because it was still less shitty than whatever slop cooks at the base were making – even though he knew his cooking skills were somewhere on the bottom of his priorities. He chewed on overcooked eggs and caught a fleeting thought of going to the small cafe downstairs. The he thought about eating his breakfast surrounded by families on their Sunday off, students with laptops and bright futures ahead, not even knowing just how fragile everything is – how easy it would be to blow up this whole fucking building to make a perverse political statement. He thought about some cute baristas downstairs and felt…intruding. Not in his place. 

Still, the day was nice. 

And then Captain John Price, Queen’s loyal soldier, a part of the Special Forces, opened his group chat. Just he and the boys. 

And the girl Soap apparently kidnapped.

— Couldn’t wait a bloody minute, Soap? 

— Good mornin’ to ye too, Captain. Pricer frowns when Soap is grinning exactly like a cat who got the cream – and a pretty bitch in heat on the bed, ready for him. He did god the bitch – and by that captain meant the cutest girl he ever saw. Soft, crying, pathetic thing that was currently sprawled on the bed in a pose that immediately made him want to comfort you. To cover you with something, to help you clean up – after the photos Soap sent, it was only obvious that lil’ poor you were too exhausted to take another round of sex in your state. 

Too bad he and Gaz and definitely not going to stop. Gaz is hovering over you already, hands on your hips – spreading them wide, making you groan from displeasure. His sergeant understands everything immediately – you’re tired, exhausted even, you need some time to relax and they can’t just give you this time, no matter how adorable you look while just laying here. John thinks he can hear you sob softly when Kyle pushes you to the side, allowing you to just open your legs a bit. 

Gaz knows how to treat a lady nicely – maybe, even more than Ghost and Johnny ever could. He smiles when you whine and quietly ask him to stop – he kisses the corner of your mouth like he is your boyfriend and you’re just a silly sleepy thing, and he giggles when you frown. He kisses you again, and again, and it’s over and over until your face is tattered with little marks from his bites. Not quite as feral as Soap, but he has his whole team on a mission to impress here – and he had a pretty girl crying under him. 

— So pretty, luv’. Don’t fret, okay? I’ll be quick. 

— Didnae ken ye supposed to tell tha’ to a lady in bed, Gaz. 

Kyle pushes Johnny away with one hand – he already got more of his fill than needed, and he wants you to stop being so scared around them. Seriously, pretty thing, you need to relax already – on your third guy, you should understand that these people aren’t here to hurt you. Well, they are, but not in a way that people like them can hurt other people. You aren’t being tortured. Maybe just a little bit – and still, no torturer would kiss your cheeks and your forehead and whisper sweet nothing in your ear as he slowly creeps with his hand over your pussy, glossy from all the lube that was spread earlier. You just got a bit relaxed after the night – just closed up a little, maybe forgetting the state you were in just a night ago, when Ghost was wrestling you on the bed and…your drunk, hazy mind don’t want to remember any of this – so you moan and you whine when these new people, unknown people, are coming in the room to see you. To touch you. You feel like shit and you probably look like shit – but the guy with the beard, the oldest looking, is putting his hand on your cheek and saying something – you aren’t quite sure what, but you close your eyes and listen. If you close your eyes, you can pretend you want this. 

— Atta girl. Broken her already. — Thought she’d be a challenge, captain. 

— We can always open the door and let her run for it. Want to chase her with your gun hangin’, sergeant? 

— Eh, just takin’ the piss. She is soft. 

— A soft girl for us. Soap had a keen eye. 

Captain smiled and it makes you feel warm – he looks like a bear when he smiles, that kind of a fatherly figure that makes you think of all sorts of weird things. Like how he would look while fucking you, for example – how rough or how gentle he would be. You gave up forcing these thoughts out of your mind a long time ago – if you can’t escape them, you can at least try to enjoy it. They are seriously not hurting you too much – and you never came quite as much as you did now. And still, you beg them like it’s going to change anything. — Pl…please, I…I don’t want to be here. There are new people – you hope they won’t be up for this. You hope that the younger guy with kind warm eyes and an easy smile, the guy who is peppering your face with soft kisses and puts you on your side so you won’t have to spread your sore legs, the guy that gently puts a pillow to make your laying a bit easier, the guy who is acting like a lover and not a kidnapper, would finally cave in, feeling sorry for you. 

You failed to notice the glint in his eyes – that sort of thing that makes everyone trust him, that sort of thing that makes you embarrassed to even think he’d be soft with you. Because, oh little bird, his hand, the warm and big, fingers already covered in an extensive amount of lube, slowly creep over to your ass. You whine, trying to wiggle out of it. 

He only needs one hand to keep you in place. 

— Come on, luv’. No use gettin’ roughen up when we don’t want you to. — Please, pl…just a few hours, I will be good, promise, just…

His palm lays flat between your shoulder blades, making you sink more into the embrace of the other man – the one with the beard and kind smile, who lifts your chin with his hand and pushes a finger inside. Check you out for the biting reflex – like a good girl, all of your bite and bark and claws were lost long ago. Like a good girl, you are closing your eyes and thinking about England – you open your mouth and let his finger in. Your tongue darts to lick it instinctively, the intrusion almost makes you gag. His skin is salty – like sandpaper to your dry tongue, desire to drink to soothe up your throat makes your voice hoarse. 

— No, love. Don’t close your eyes on me. 

You still don’t open them – a small hint of rebellion not because you seriously think you would get away with it so easily, but because you couldn’t bear to look at them right now. He looks too kind, too handsome, too frustrating for your tired mind. You want for him to stop fucking looking like that, you want for him to stop touching you. You are a rebel, not looking at him properly – mostly because you…

A harsh slap lands on your butt. You whine from sharp pain and it gives you another smack – this is the first time any of them laid hands of you in a way that wasn’t sexual, and you want to cry from frustration. If torture is inevitable, you’d prefer it to be sex rather than pain. 

— Listen to the captain, doll. Open your eyes. 

— No. Please. — You don’t want to look at me, eh? — Probably too overwhelmed. Poor girl. We should take it easy for her. — She would be fine. Simon picked a strong girl for us. — Strong? Never saw anyone cry so much before. — Don’t like ‘em a bit more wet, sergeant? — I can take a bit wet. She looks bloody adorable like this. — That she is. They both laugh. You feel like you’re going to throw up again – the knot in your tummy getting tighter, with each second the rough fingertips are caressing your swollen and puffy lower lips, every time Gaz pushes one finger up your clit and massages it like your hips aren’t jolting in overwhelming pleasure this exact second. You can still feel the outline of a giant cock that was inside of you last night – you’re still hurting, feeling like it broke something deep inside, leaving you sore and exhausted. You just want to go home. You don’t want to listen to their banter, friendly and condescending at the same time – the authority levels are making you feel dizzy, trying to understand who they are to each other. Who can be convinced to let you go after this. — Open your eyes before I fuck you, love.

You don’t want to, and it gives you another smack – you feel like it’s going to break the skin soon, the guy behind you isn’t holding any of his strength and it makes you worry about his other hand, still playing with the softness of your cheeks, spreading lube all around your puckered hole. The only thing that wasn’t touched yet – and it’s used just like the rest of your body now. 

One long, thick digit deepens into your anus, making you whine and try to wiggle out – but you open your eyes obediently, finally, looking at his kind smile. You can almost believe he will be softer with you now, maybe just petting your head and checking with the others – but you can hear him grunting, changing the position to stand right in front of you. A hand under your chin pushes your face up, to an uncomfortable degree – while still impaled on his sergeant’s fingers in your ass, spreading your tight entrance to a degree that lets you know you won’t be walking any time soon. Price smiles when you stare at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, still sucking on his finger like a good girl. He opens his belt with one hand, just barely bringing his pants and underwear down to let his girthy cock slap against your cheek. It’s too heavy to stand against his stomach properly, so it spreads little beads of pre-cum all over your skin. You whine when he slaps both of your cheeks with his cockhead a few times, mostly teasing himself – preparing for the main course. He’d love to fuck your cunt and give your lower holes a proper welcome on pair with Gaz – but you look fragile and overwhelmed already. Captain does have a heart, after all. — Don’t bite or we’ll rip your teeth off. Got it? — Pl…please, sir… Oh, you smartarse. Knows how to get him going – knows how to press the buttons that would make even more blood run to his cock, making his erection unbearably hard right now. He smiles when you sob and cry, tears are really making you look even cuter – he pushes his cockhead against your swollen lips, allowing you a taste lick. A little something, solely for you. You whine at the bitter taste, not enjoying it even for a second – it’s a good thing Price doesn’t really care about the thoughts of a random civvie they snatched from a street. The last mission went up the devil’s arse and they all deserve someone warm and soft to just spread their legs and look cute. Maybe, you’ll learn to enjoy their company after the first few weeks. Maybe, he’d bring you back to his house in the countryside, tie you up to the front porch, and use you like the perfect little doorbell. Fuck his pretty girl for a few minutes and let her moans tell him that there are guests. You will do nicely as his pet. So, so nicely. — I asked if you got it. No teeth, little minx, or you will never bite anything again. 

— I p…promise. Just don’t hurt me, please, I want to go- — Your home is with us, luv. You know that fighting is useless when Gaz slowly slips his cock inside – not nearly spreading you enough so it won’t hurt. The stretch burns, leaves you sobbing as he slowly bottoms down. Smiling when you wiggle and cry, laughing and kissing the back of your head when his hand slowly slips under your leg to lift it. To provide himself with better access for your small, aching hole. 

You want for it to hurt, one agonizing inch after the other – and it does hurt, the man is by no means small, and the only reason you aren’t crying is because your mouth is too busy sucking off his captain. You just blabber something incomprehensible, something that makes them both laugh. You want for everything to hurt, just so you could stop feeling so fucking weird – but you feel the hand slipping down, between the lips of your pussy. Playing with the button of your clit, making you whine as it becomes wetter by a second. You thought there weren’t any more orgasms left to give, but Kyle smiled and pushed his fingers inside of your pussy. Not even wanting to think, you just whine, tongue swirling around Price’s cock as he pushes deeper and deeper. They rock you from side to side – when you choke on one cock too much, throat hurting from the thick length bottoming somewhere far too deep, Price finds his hand lost in your locks, gently pushing you back – deeper on Gaz’s cock. They are working together, perfectly, like a team that has known together for years – there is no hope to escape them, no chance of ever letting yourself go. You want to close your eyes and forget about everything. But when you close your eyes, you can hear the slaps of skin against skin. The wet sounds of your pussy felt ignored as it only stuffed with fingers – as thick as they could be. — You like to take it in the ass, love? 

— She’s wet, captain. Never knew she could be such a bad girl. 

— Little minxes are the best anyway. Not too much fight left though. — I bet Simon fucked all the fight of her. Didn’t he, doll? You whine, not sure how to answer with a cock in your mouth. They both laugh, knowing your predicament. 

You cum embarrassingly fast after this – the rough fingertips doing their job as you’re pushed deeper and deeper into the bed. You hate the damp sheets against your cheek, you hate that you’re so fucking wet, arousal dripping on the sheets only adds to the mess. You wonder if they would just toss them away after this. You figured that men living this kind of life wouldn’t bother with washing the sheets to get rid of the musk. — Pretty pussy feels lonely, yeah? Gaz kisses you again when you cum, whispering praises. Calling you a good girl, the best boy, taking them like a champ – making him and the captain so, so happy, would be hard not to steal you away from Ghost and Soap while they’re too busy with something else. You’re so tired, desperately, you just want to close your eyes and sleep, but they still aren’t done. Still pounding in your body like it’s just a set of warm, tight holes for them – no matter how many praises they whisper. — Will fill her up later. Little thing needs a proper fucking. — Greedy. Not even goin’ to share with me? — Sergeants get sloppy seconds, Kyle. — Glad I took her ass first then. Soap can have her after. — Boy will get spoiled with her around. You get another kiss on your shoulder, barely registrable as you fall tired again. Barely conscious. They continue to fuck you. You’re not sure they will ever going to let you go. 

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Personal Issue

summary: santi invites you to his hotel room the day after your engagement to talk. he says the unexpected— that he’s in love with you.

prompt: "Why did you never tell me?" "It was a personal issue." "You being in love with me kind of also involves me." - @creativepromptsforwriting

pairing: santi garcia x f!reader

contents: get together fic, best friends to lovers, simp!santi (he’s lowkey a lil pathetic but i love him), angst, mental health issues/thoughts of dying, cheating, kissing

wc: 1,966

an: a teeny tiny something bc i miss santi. thanks to @ivystoryweaver for the beta <3

oscar characters masterlist

"Why did you never tell me?" You demand, unable to keep the horror out of your voice.

Santi ignores the way your tone scrapes at the wound in his heart— the wound that’s always been open because of you. Always fresh, unable to heal because of you. You always seemed to be just out of reach, slipping through his fingers for one reason or another.

"It was a personal issue,” He reasons, shoving his hands in his pockets.

He can hardly look at you. It’s humbling. He’s never had an issue with charming a woman, but you aren’t just any woman. You’re his best friend. There are too many eggs in this basket.

You scoff, crossing your arms against your chest, "You being in love with me kind of also involves me."

“I didn’t— things were different before.”

“Different,” You test the word, not at all buying it. It feels like bullshit. Like a cop-out.

“Yes, different. We were kids, and then I was gone all the time.”

“No, Santi, you can’t do this to me.”

Santi smiles, though there is no humor in it. You’re right— he shouldn’t be doing this. Not today, not any day, but he’s finally reached his limit. It’s now or never.

“I don’t really have a choice, now did I, cariño?”

You glare at him, about ready to rip his head off because that‘s not true. You and Santiago have known each other for most of your lives— and you’ve loved him for at least half that. He could’ve told you days, weeks, months, years ago that he felt the same. But in true Santiago Garcia fashion, thinking only of himself and the consequences that sit right in front of him, he’d told you today.

Today wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t the day after you’d gotten engaged. No, Santi chose the day after you’d finally given yourself to someone else completely, the day after you promised yourself you’d settle and try to stop loving him. What you’ve wanted for years and years on end has finally come and now it feels like some sort of cruel joke.

“That’s one of the most heinous lies you’ve ever told.”

“The Colombian government would disagree.”

“You know what— get the hell out of here. I don’t want to see you ever again. I can’t believe that you think you can just waltz right in here and—“

Santi takes two long strides towards you, closing the gap between you so that he can cup your face. “Tell me no. Say it. You have to say it to me.”

“Santiago, please,” You plead softly with him, your eyes round with fear. Your hands reach up to grasp his, making futile attempts to pull them away. “Don’t make me choose.”

Santi leans closer, the tip of his nose ghosting yours. His eyes are darker than usual, burning into you, a little angry— though he has no right to be— and a little desperate. “Why? Why not, hmm? He’s not that important, is he? Because you know you’ll choose me, don’t you?”

“Stop. Stop. Do you know how unfair this is? How fucked up it is for you to tell me this?”

Santi’s grip on your face tightens— it’s not painful but it’s frantic. You can feel the urgency in his fingertips. “Yes. Yes, I know. And I’ve always wanted to be better for you. I want to be a good man, I want to be worthy. Not some fucked up guy who’s better at killing than he is at telling the woman he loves how much she means to him. But, I’m not.”

“You could try.”

“I have. Don’t you get it, baby, I have. Yesterday when I saw those pictures. When I saw this—“ He tangles his fingers with your own, twisting your hand so you have to stare the ring sat on your finger in the face.

It glistens and gleams like it taunting you. It’s exactly what you wanted— the right cut, the right material—sparkling even in the dark. Your stomach churns at the sight of it. You shouldn’t have said yes, that much you know for sure. When you went back to your apartment last night you sat in the shower, your tears disguised under its spray. And when you had emerged, you’d made yourself a promise. To be a good and loyal spouse to the man that had actually chosen you.

“It drove me fucking insane. I lost it because I’m losing you. I had to try. If you say no, I’ll never come back. I’ll take assignment after assignment but if there’s even a small chance, baby, that you could still love me— because I know you did…I know you do.”

“I don’t want you gone forever, Santi. I said that because I’m angry.”

“You have every right to be.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that.”

“Then what do you need, huh? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you. Whatever you want.”

There’s more than one answer to that, but you have to give him the right answer. You’d just promised yourself last night that you would move on. Who knew that he would make it so difficult.

With a soft, shaky breath you say, “I…I need you to let me go.”

Santi goes dangerously still, his breath catching. “What?”

“I need you to let me go,” You repeat gently, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face him. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

The words sound syrupy in his ears, far away and unreal. He looks at you with confusion. “You want me to let you go?”

“Yes.”

The sharp anger and desperation in Santi’s eyes fade away, leaving his features soft and round and sad. So markedly sad. He lets his eyes trace your face for memorization; lips and eyes, the slope of your nose. He leans in to kiss your forehead, letting out a soft sigh.

Santi has done wrong by so many others and even done wrong by you. But this he’ll do right. If you want him to let you go then he will. He’ll let you walk out of here and never look back. Maybe he’ll get so involved in his work that he won’t think of you or this moment ever again. Maybe something will take him away completely. He flinches at his thought— it’s been a long time since something that has floated around in his mind like that. Taking a step away from you, he lets you go, fingers aching with the ghost of your skin against his.

You rest your face in your hands for a few moments, trying to pull yourself together. And when you straighten, you’re sure not to look Santi in his, just in his general direction. You’re broken enough and meeting his gaze would surely cause you to fall apart.

“Thank you, Santi,” You whisper, not trusting yourself to speak any louder.

He gives you a stiff nod, “Anything for you.”

Why do those words feel like you’re being stabbed in the heart? If he meant them, then why did he wait so long? Why did he do this to the both of you? Your vision blurs a bit with tears and you quickly grab your coat from where it’s laid on his bed, taking deliberate steps towards the door. Your hand lingers on the doorknob— are you sure that you want to do this? To walk away from the man you’ve always wanted?

“Wait,” He calls after you.

You freeze, but don’t turn towards him— that would be asking for trouble. Trouble you are trying so fucking hard to avoid. “What is it?”

“I just— I have to say it to you one more time because I don’t know if I’ll be able to again.”

“I told you I didn’t want you gone for good, Santi. We don’t have to do this, you can just let me walk away and we can act like it never happened,” You say, though you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself more.

“I don’t think I can promise to stick around. I can’t watch you marry someone else. I’m not gracious enough, querida.”

“Okay,” You whisper, the tears in your eyes starting to fall.

“I…I love you. I always will.”

Silence falls between you two, an empty cove. Santi hopes that it’ll be enough, that somehow, miraculously you’ll turn around and run into his arms, telling him that you love him too. Instead, he hears a soft sob and watches as your hand rises to wipe at your face before you straighten up and step out into the hall.

When the door shuts behind you he feels like he’s drowning. Like he can’t breathe. His heart is thrumming loudly in his ears, and he crumbles, letting out a groan as his knees hit the ground.

What the fuck has he done? Lost you forever, and told you that he can’t stick around. That was the last time he would ever see you. A world without you is one he’s sure he doesn’t want to be in.

He’s completely paralyzed with fear. He’s not sure how long he sits on the ground like this, shocked and still, but eventually his body starts to ache so badly he’s unable to ignore it. He crawls to the bed, reaching up to rest his weight on it and lift himself onto it. Here he can rot until he can no longer. Until Frankie or Will or Benny come to bang down the door and figure out what the hell is wrong with him.

It’s not long after that that someone does start knocking on his door. Has it been days? One of them was here already. Santi feels like it’s been minutes and weeks all at the same time, time stretching and squeezing in a way that feels unreal. It takes real effort to rise out of bed and make his way to the door. He doesn’t bother to check who it is, opening it with no reservations.

Maybe he died of starvation or dehydration. He must have been lying there much longer than he thought because it’s you. You’re standing at the door, tear-stained and so goddamn beautiful. This has to be heaven— except he’s undeserving.

“I love you too,” You blurt out.

“What?”

“I love you too,” You repeat. When Santi says nothing, staring at you in a daze you start to ramble. “I tried to go home and I couldn’t sleep. And then I drove around a bunch but I couldn’t stop crying because how am I supposed to live my life without you? Then all of a sudden I was here again. I love you, Santiago.”

“You love me.”

“Yes, I love you. Are you okay?”

Santi feels like his body has recalibrated. “Am I— get over here,” He murmurs, reaching to pull you into his room and crushing your mouth to his.

He presses you against the wall, covering your body with his own as he completely devours your mouth, forcing his way in and sucking at your tongue. All you can do is melt into him, hands scrambling to find purchase in the fabric of his shirt so that you can clutch him closer. His mouth is firm and so sweet. You want to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him for the rest of your life. Something in your brain reminds you that maybe, just maybe, if he loves you as much as he claims he does you will. It has you giggling into his mouth.

He grins into the kiss. “My kissing is funny, is it?”

“Funny isn’t the word I’d use for it but just to be sure— kiss me again?”

“Anything for you,” He murmurs, his mouth capturing yours once more.

santi taglist: @jitterbugs927, @theconsultingdoctor10, @tanzthompson, @clairevoyanceee, @moonmalice, @tiffanypooh, @dearvirtualdiary-blog1, @marc-spectorr, @xbellaxcarolinax, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys, @missdictatorme, @whatthefishh

[toxscty444]

in the car…?

Prompt: you and Sukuna are roommates- and you always manage to get into some trouble, whether it be egging your toxic ex’s car, or TP’ing your friends house- he’s always with you. And this time is no exception…😉

‼️MINORS DNI‼️

Also this might be a longer fic so if oh don’t like little side stories- then I dunno. dw pooks- there’s nsfw 🤭

“God- ‘kuna Alex is bothering her again. I’m gonna fuckin kill him.” You groan frustratedly.

Alex, your best friend’s boyfriend is a fucking terror, and an asshole. The only reason your best friend puts up with him is because he’s ‘good in bed’ according to her. Merely thinking about the little shit has you rolling your eyes in annoyance

“Oh? What’d he do now?” He asks, amused and a sly smirk on his lips. He looked so fucking hot. But you won’t admit that to yourself.

Yet.

“He’s just being a dick.” You shake your head, scoffing.

“Why don’t we do something fun then? Maybe egg his house, then smoke a lil? Relieve some stress in the process, pretty girl?” He teases, his hands rubbing your shoulders, an intimate gesture.

The little sigh that escapes your lips and the way you relax under his touch makes his eyes darken in desire, but he won’t do that- at least not right now.

“Sure- you bring the eggs, I bring the weed.” Your laugh echoes through the shared apartment, something he could listen to on repeat, and amused smirk on his face.

He watches you as you get up and take the little black tubes containing the already rolled up joints, and a carton of eggs- and you hand both to him, flashing your cute little smile at him that drives him crazy. You walk over to the door and he follows you out to the lobby, making sure anyone passing by knows your his-

but you don’t know that yet? He’ll make sure you know it soon enough.

You both get into your car, bantering back and forth about who should drive- of course, Sukuna wins that little squabble, “you already look like a passenger princess, might as well act like one.” He chuckles, sitting down in the drivers seat and closing the door, giving you a knowing smirk, watching your cute little ass walk around the car to the passenger seat beside him.

“You already know where Alex lives right?” You ask him, and he simply nods, pulling out of the parking lot.

“Princess, you’ve driven past that punks house more times than I can count looking for your little friend, to lecture her later about staying at his house.” He retorts, smirking at you mischievously.

Sometimes he can be so damn tempting.

Five minutes later, he pulls into Alex’s neighborhood, parking farther away from his house so you guys aren’t seen, it’s not your guys’ first time getting into a bit of trouble. “Got the stuff?” He asks, an eyebrow raised in question, and you nod and grin at him, holding up the joints and the eggs.

“We’ll save the special stuff for later after we’re done with this little asshat.” You smirk, putting the joints in the glove box, along with the lighter.

You both get out of the car at the same time, his steps eating up the distance to Alex’s home.

“Can I get the first grab?” He smirks at you, already reaching for the first egg in the carton and chucking it at the living room window, making you cover your mouth and stifle your laughter. The eggs shatters like glass on impact, dripping down the window, leaving a mess of eggshells and yolk all over the place.

“That little shit will have so much fun cleaning this up tomorrow.” You laugh quietly, the moon being your only guise from prying eyes. Thank god it’s dark out.

You both take turns circling the house and throwing eggs at the house, and after you’re both done, it looks like a mess. And you’re proud of it.

“That’s not the only mess I’ll be proud of tonight~” he says low and husky in your ear as you guys walk back to the car, making your face flush in desire and making your breath hitch, “wha- huh? You talk in about the joints?” You ask him, a bit concerned and flustered. He wanted to fuck you so bad already.

“Yes princess, I am.” He say sarcastically, winking at you suggestively. And you roll your eyes, he can be so corny sometimes.

You both get back to the car, him taking the drivers seat again, you’re kicked back to passenger princess again. Not that you’re complaining. You open the glove box and pull out one of the joints and a lighter, handing the lighter to Sukuna and holding the joint to your lips, he smirks at you and lights the joint for you, watching your pupils dilate from the effect of the marijuana.

You pass the joint to Sukuna, exhaling the smoke, your head leaning against the headrest on the seat. Your eyes close in bliss, letting the effects wash over you, feeling light and happy, your body feeling everything tenfold, making any slight touch or sensation undeniable.

He watches you with half lidded eyes, needing you so bad. He takes a long drag of the joint, the smoke he exhales blurring his perfect fucking face.

“You feelin better yet princess?” He smirks at you, looking you up and down. His eyes rake over your figure hungrily, your shirt hugging your curves perfectly, and the sweatpants you’re wearing makes it casual enough for you to make an excuse to show off your perfect boobs. Which he shamelessly stares at.

Your eyes narrow, a small smirk on your lips, “eyes up here pretty boy.” You point to your face and he looks at you with and amused and slightly surprised expression, “I know that already princess.” His voice is low and husky when he talks, filled with need already.

You take his hand in yours and slowly guide it to your thigh, his hand possessively gripping your thigh, trailing dangerously close to your already throbbing and needy clit. “What do you think you’re doing?” You ask him coyly, you’ve always been such a damn tease. And he loves it.

“Re-phrase the what to who. Should be obvious already, huh princess?” His gaze burns into yours with such an intensity, you’re basically putty in his hands and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

He hands the almost-forgotten joint back to you, smirking knowingly at you and exhaling smoke from the drag. You take it from him and hit it again, and another time, just to make sure. “Just warning you-“ you pause, unsure of if you should say it, especially since his hand is on your thigh.

“What is it baby?” His smirk grows even more, his hold on your thigh tightening.

You sigh, looking down, “sometimes I get high before I go out to a club or something- because I get insanely turned on at literally anything.” You scoff playfully at your little confession.

Oh that’s just what he wanted to hear.

“Really princess? Let’s see how you get with me then.” His gaze darkens, his breathing shallow and a lustful smirk on his face.

Oh you’re in for it now.

He discards the joint outside the car window, slightly cracked from letting in the cool summer night air. The feeling flowing through your senses is surreal, and so is your desire to fuck him.

And so is his. But before he can mutter anything, your lips meet his in a hungry kiss. He lets out a satisfied groan, his hands holding your waist closer to him and he tangles his hands in your hair, pulling your head back harshly and peppering kisses down your neck all the way down to your collarbone.

“Damn princess, what’d you think what would happen if you told me that, hm?” He whispers in your ear, his other hand reaching under the top of your sweats, his fingers finding its way to your needy core, his fingers rubbing lazy circles on your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The sensation heightened from the effects of marijuana.

“F-fuck S’kuna- we’re still in the car-“ you whine, moaning at his skilled fingers working your clit. Your lips parting in a satisfied sigh, your hand coming up to cover your mouth.

“So baby? Can fuck you just as good here as on the bed, kay?” He whispers in your ear, low and husky. His fingers pace picks up even more, sliding into your wet pussy, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that sweet spot, making your back arch in pleasure as he finger fucks you harder and faster, “ah! K-kuna- s’close!” You moan out, your cunt tightening around his fingers.

“Cum f’me then princess.”

His words send you over the edge, your mouth falling open in pleasure, a lewd moan slipping past your lips and your eyes rolling back. He can barely hold himself back anymore, his erection near painful at this point, making a tent in his grey sweats.

“Get in the backseat. Now.” His words are demanding and full of lust, leaving no room for resistance or discussion. And you climb into the backseat, slipping off your top and your sweatpants, leaving you in your bra and panties, making the poor man go feral.

He gets in after you, having to open the backseats door because of his muscular build. Fuck that turned you on so much. He closes the door and locks it, the little ‘click’ of the lock sealing your fate for the evening.

Oh you’re fucked, literally.

He yanks down his sweatpants and boxers at the same time, revealing his angry erection, already leaking pre cum from the tip. And your eyes widen at the sight of it, long and thick, how is this going to fit inside you?

“Like what you see princess?” He leans down, whispering in your ear, his voice raw and husky.

“M-mhm” you manage to mumble between moans and whimpers.

“S’kuna please-“ you whine, your hips bucking up needily.

“Use your words baby, can’t hear you between all those little noises you’re making.” He says, smirking down at you, teasing you.

“K-kuna please I need you inside me.” You moan out, your hands finding its way to your clit, still covered by your skimpy little panties. But he grabs your wrist before you can lay a finger on it. “Tsk. Try again princess, on your hands and knees.”

You whine impatiently, annoyed and desperately needing to feel him inside you, so you quickly sit up, your back facing him and you arch your back against his hands, holding your hips in place so you can’t move.

You feel his fingers slowly trace the outline of your perfect little ass, making quick work of ripping off those panties. “You want me princess? Hm?” He purrs in your ear, tangling his hands in your hair, pulling your head back.

“Y-yes.” You moan out, earning a low groan from him.

“Fuck princess- makin this damn hard to control myself.” He says before slamming into you in one harsh thrust, letting you accommodate to his size, stretching your tight little pussy out. Your sweet little cry of pleasure is enough to drive him crazy and he pounds into you over and over, his tip hitting your cervix again and again.

“Ngh- ah! K-kuna!” You moan out, the pain from earlier quickly replaced with pure ecstasy and pleasure.

His pace picks up even more, making you see stars, “f-fuck princess, so tight and needy. Didn’t know you’d be a little slut huh?” He pulls your hair back again, his hips still slamming into yours at the same brutal pace, making the car move.

You feel yourself tighten around him, nearing you orgasm, “S-S’kuna fuck! S’close!” You cry out, almost screaming his name.

“Did I say you could cum yet slut? No? Didn’t fuckin think so.” He growls low in your ear, pounding into you deeper and deeper, making it significantly harder for you to not cum around him.

Tears of pure pleasure roll down your cute little face, begging him to let you come.

“You wanna cum princess? Yeah? Scream my name for me will ya?” He groans, feeling his own orgasm coming soon.

And oh fuck- you screamed his name so loud the whole neighborhood probably heard it. And that’s makes him so fucking turned on. They way your back arches and your eyes roll back makes him fuck you even harder. How that’s possible? You don’t know, but god it feels so fucking good.

“F-fuck!” Sukuna lets out a low moan when he comes inside you, his thick, hot cum making a mess of your thighs and cute little pussy.

Your pants fill the car, catching your breath.

“How about we pick this back up at home princess?” He smirks down at you, admiring your fucked out, dazed expression.

“Fuck yeah.” You say, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

He’s definitely getting head on the way home.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + six

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She expected him to ignore her. 

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

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

And the last part. 

There’s nothing you can’t tell me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then her phone dings.

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

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

Roman: Yes.

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

Solana: Thank you…

Solana: And I don’t work this weekend. 

Solana: Can I ask you something?

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

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

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

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

Solana: Okay…

Solana: Where are we going?

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

Roman: You’ll see.

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

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

Nervous fingers type out an expression of said nerves.

Solana: Okay….surprises just make me nervous. 

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

Roman: It’s nothing bad.

Roman: I wouldn’t lie to you. 

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

Unless….

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

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

Roman: You’re apologizing again.

Roman: And I don’t care. 

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

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

Solana: They’re kinda funny….🙈

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

Solana: Fair.

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

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

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

It’s neither of them.

Roman: How’d you start writing?

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

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

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

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

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

And then her phone goes off.

Roman: Not surprising. 

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

Hence, she decides on texting him again. 

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

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

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

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

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

He stops replying after that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We’ve got your back.

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

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

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

There’s no delay with the answer.

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

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

Dead.

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

It feels almost impossible to be true. 

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

Chills travel up her spine. “W–why?”

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

Why?

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

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

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

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

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

She just never expected such a….big message. 

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

Solana neither agrees or disagrees with that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

________

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my god, you have to try this on.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Roman: Shut the fuck up.

Roman: Unsend this shit, Naomi. Now.

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

Roman: You look good.

Roman: But you always look good. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Samantha is beautiful, and someone he can actually touch.

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

But Samantha can.

Samantha does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

________

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

And she has no idea what to make of it. 

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

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

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

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

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

Because she thinks it’s another text from Roman.

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

Not a chance.

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

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

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

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

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

He scares her.

Or does he? 

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

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

Even that day at her job.

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

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

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

She’s nobody.

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

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

If she doesn’t already.

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

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

Roman,

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

Hope that was alright.

Solana

________

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There is something you should know though.”

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

“Apparently, information is missing.”

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

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

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

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

Xavier.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That must piss them the fuck off.”

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

Solana is Bloodline now.

No one fucking touches her.

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Diagnosis: F43.10 Posttraumatic Stress Disorder w/ Dissociation 

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

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

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

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

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

Livid. He’s livid.

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

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

The same urge he has currently.

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

Solana

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

Solana: What time will you be home tonight?

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

That’s beyond immoral.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He needs an outlet.

But, here lies the fucking dilemma. 

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

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

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

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

Roman finds himself returning to his previous level of rage. 

He needs to work this off him.

And he knows just how.

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

Roman: I’m coming over.

________

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

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

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

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

What he does find, however, is something else.

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

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

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

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

In more than one area. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another sentence from her medical report whizzes back to him.

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

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

He’s much too impatient for that shit. 

He needs to say this shit now.

“Solana.”

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

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

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

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

Still, he needs to make something perfectly clear.

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

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

“I understand….”

________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wise Man.”

“Coming, My Tribal Chief.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And laughing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pay the woman.”

Paul swallows. “But, my—”

“Wise Man.”

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

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

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

“She’s yours.” 

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

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

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

“Yes, if you want her—”

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

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

It’s a sure thing. 

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

So why is he? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” he answers. “It can wait.”

________

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

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

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

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

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

Roman,

Thank you so much. 

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

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

Solana

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

Solana,

You’re welcome. 

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

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

Why does he hate you?

Roman

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

Most likely for privacy.

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

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

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

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

Roman,

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

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

And he’s not wrong.

She is dead because of me.

Solana

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

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

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

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

Solana,

It’s not your fault.

Also, you were wrong.

I care what you have to say and think.

Roman

[diremoone]

whipped cream apology | r. sukuna

fights are uncommon between you and your fiancé, but there are times they do happen. you know you’ll never hear a verbal apology come from him, but you know he’s sorry; Sukuna’s apologies always come in the form of gifts, food, or acts of service. this time is no different :3

w — modern au, chef! sukuna (he owns and works in his own restaurant but that’s not elaborated on), itsy bitsy sprinkles of angst bc of a mentioned fight, fluff, this is super duper short haha, food and food descriptions bc I am a woman who loves her food so sue me :3 this is just a random lil fic I wrote in like a day so i won’t be surprised if this flops lmao

[ divider credit to @/inklore ]

You don’t know how you go to sleep angry, but you do.

Last night had been awful. Maybe you’d blown everything a little out of proportion, maybe not. Your energy hadn’t been so great coming through the front door of your home. You’d just been stalked by a couple of guys that wouldn’t stop leering at you, and to top that off you had an old woman at the register of the store get ugly with you. All you wanted was the nice dinner you know would be awaiting you and to not be bothered for awhile after that.

Problem was, was that Sukuna was also in a bad mood. Someone at the kitchen of his restaurant had put him in a super bad mood by not following orders, and a food critic was to be coming by in a few days. And when you mixed his bad mood with yours, it led to you two going to bed on bad terms.

But now, you’re not even sure that Sukuna had come to bed.

Did that idiot sleep on the couch?

Just as you’re about to get out of bed, you see a note on the nightstand with your name on it. You grab it, unfold it and read: ‘Stay in bed and text me when you’re awake.’

Your sleepy brain goes blank for a moment, but you oblige your fiancé’s request anyway, texting him that you’re awake with a pink heart afterward, hoping he still wasn’t upset with you.

Sukuna’s answer is almost immediate.

Give me a few more minutes and I’ll be upstairs.

But you do need to pee really really bad. You make your bathroom trip as quick as possible and hop back in the bed, miraculously just as Sukuna comes through the door with a large tray of what you smell to be food.

“Morning, baby,” he greets you.

You can see the solemn look on his face, one of upset. He’s still bothered about last night.

“Morning, ‘kuna,” you reply, smiling at him. It seems to partially work, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

You flatten out the blanket as he sets the tray over your legs. Your eyes can’t help but blown open so wide in shock and excitement that you accidentally make them hurt. To your expression and blinking eyes, Sukuna chuckles.

“An apology, for my shitty behavior last night.”

There are several plates of food on the large tray. Perfectly cooked eggs, bacon, sausage; all of your favorite comfort foods all sit before you.

But right in the center is a heaping pile of one inch-thick, fluffy pancakes the size of your head, four stacked atop of another. Butter runs down underneath the sweet maple syrup. Neatly placed around the edges of the plate are bananas and strawberries. And on the very top is a generous pile of whipped cream in a fancy swirl.

You grin at his meticulousness of making such a wonderful plate that’s only just going to get messy.

“Sukuna—”

He scowls. “Don’t even bother me with apologizing back. I don’t wanna hear it. I’m the asshole. You did nothing wrong.”

Love swells in your heart and soul for the man you’re soon to marry. God, you love him.

“You’re sure?”

He tsks. “Positive.”

You smile brightly. “I love you.”

His cheeks and ears go pink. “Just eat.”

“Cheeseball,” you call him, cutting into the pancakes. “But don’t mind if I do.”

“If you can’t eat all of that, I’ll eat the rest.”

“Fuck off, it’s mine.”

taglist: (no longer adding)

@vagabond-umlaut | @poe-daydreams | @heresan @thedovahqueen | @lotus-n-l0ve | @chiyoso | @miraclecherryblossomsblog | @unbreakableblueheaven | @marscatbutler | @vanillabloo | @wo-ming-bai | @visionsofmagic | @tohsri | @yuujispinkhair | @lilacliliess | @bub-ss

[arolesbianism]

Let it not be forgotten how much I love Abby. She is the character of all time. 2 me. It's me and my needlessly in depth Abby hcs against the world

[ynbabe]

bffs with the rookies- incorrect quotes 1!

Just a lil sum sum to show more abt the relationships in the AU

Y/N: A stake to the heart won't kill a vampire if their tits are big enough. Oscar: Yeah, you just catch it. Logan: Nah nah nah, deflects it. Stake? Just bounces right off. Done. Back to doing hot girl shit. Arthur: Then I just use a spear instead. Y/N: You are trying so hard to kill a vampire with big bazongas, and for what? Why would you do that to the ecosystem?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Oscar: It’s Christmas! Are you all in a Christmas mood?! Logan: Merry crisis. Arthur: Jingle bells, jingle bells, single all the way. Y/N: Hoe hoe hoe. Oscar: Guys, please.

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Oscar: Who would you kill out of the four of us, Logan? Logan: Arthur, easily. Arthur, laughing: What the fuck, man. Logan: Well, Y/N would be too easy. She’d probably be into it. Y/N, now standing in the doorway: What the fuck, man!?

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Logan: How do I ask someone out? Y/N: Roses are red, violets are blue, guess what, my bed has room for two. Logan: No! Arthur: Twinkle twinkle little star, we can do it in a car. Logan: Stop! Oscar: Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily I can make you scream. Logan: I feel like the last one is verging dangerously into serial killer territory.

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Y/N: Fight me! Arthur: Ha, look at your size! What are you gonna do, kick my ankle? *Later* Logan: Why is Arthur crying? Oscar: Y/N kicked him really hard on the ankle.

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Y/N, to Oscar: When was the last time you let someone hug you? Oscar: *thinking* Oscar: 2012. Arthur: 2012…? Oscar: Yeah. I almost died and it really freaked Logan out so I let him hug me.

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Lando: You know what? Lando: When I joined this friend group I thought you guys would be dealing with my bullshit. *Y/N, Arthur and Oscar continue screaming about mold water* Lando:Not the other way around. Logan: I dunno, sounds like you need to drink the mold water.

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Lando: Mice are having sex in my walls. Arthur: Tattletale! Logan: You're just being ungrateful. Y/N: It's their home too, you know. Oscar: So what? Don't slutshame them. Lando: The mice are fucking AND now I'm getting heckled.

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Oscar: Team A will consist of myself, Arthur, Lando, and Logan. Oscar: Team B will consist of Y/N, cause she scares me.

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How Lando and Y/n became friends:

Logan: Why aren't there friend pick up lines? Pick up lines to make friends like- Logan, to Arthur: Hey, that's a cute outfit. You know where it would look better? On nobody else, because you're a beautiful individual. Y/N, to Lando: Be my friend or I'll set your entire family on fire. Oscar: There are two types of people.

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Charles: I’m not mad, I just need to know why you two had a fake ID. Arthur: *Incoherent mumbling* Charles: Huh? Y/n: …You need to be 18 to hold the puppies at PetCo.

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Charles (brainstorming ideas for pranking Max): How much could a serial killer mask possibly cost? Y/n: Well it’s hard to find a high-quality one made out of leather or silicone, but if you did find a good one like that it’d be a couple thousands of dollars. I can try to hook you up with one but I don’t know if I’d be very successful. Charles: Huh, that’s pretty interesting actually- Wait, how the hell do you know that? Y/n: …I am very passionate about Halloween, Charles.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: I'm gonna eat the chicken breasts! Arthur, snickering: Yeah, eat what you lack. Y/n, deadpanning at Arthur Then maybe I should order brains on delivery for you.

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Arthur, reading a recipe: Beat three eggs? Charles: It means like in hand-to-hand combat. Arthur: Ohhhh- Y/n: Both of you get out of this kitchen.

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Logan: Have I ever told you that I love you with my whole heart? Y/n For the love of all that is holy, I am not taking you to McDonalds. It’s 2am! Logan: Mean.

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Y/n: Dumbest scar stories, go! Oscar: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. Charles: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it. Logan: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. Arthur: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn. Max: Max: I have emotional scars.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

When Max and Charles got spam called by Y/n and the group after their party:

Max: I CAN'T DO IT! Charles, laughing: I CAN'T EITHER! Max: I CANT FUCKING DO IT ANYMORE Lando: WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US. Max: Max: I appreciate it, Max: BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH- Charles: Max- Max: YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE! Lando: Max we gotta- Max: YOU GOTTA DRAW A FUCKING LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT. Max: YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?' Max, motioning to Y/n, Oscar, Arthur and Logan: NOT FUCKING THIS

[lowkeyremi]

Shinso Hitoshi x implied fem!reader- HCS drabble (sfw)

lil note: even though the hcs are sfw i still wanna age shinso up bc 20+ shinso sounds so hot

Content: fluff, establish relationship, sleep... lots of sleep, not proofread bc im lazy

-Shinso on face time is one kind of person: the one who's camera is faced toward their ceiling and he barely responds to what you say

"it wasn't even my fault, do you get it?" you ask your boyfriend over the phone. he's currently listening to you bitch about this girl that you don't like. ".... mhm" you bring your phone right up to your face, "toshi are you even listening?" he shuffles for a second and you see a tuft of purple hair, "yeah" he watches as you set your phone back down onto the dresser it was formerly on, "good"

-Something tells me he texts like this "wsp bby" or "wyd"

-When he does have the energy its maxed, there's no in between. there's sleepy idgaf shinso then there's "AHABAHOUSAHODHOUH" shinso

"what the hell are you doing?" hitoshi is currently waving his arms around like he's crazy or something. "i'm trying that dance you were teaching me the other day." ... "it looked nothing like that." he runs toward your bed and tackles you, "what the h, man? are you hating on my dancing??" the small giggle that escapes your lips lets him know everything, "yes. yes i am."

-He was super insecure when u started dating. he was always telling you how you deserve better than him :((

-His place always smells so good, seems like a candle guy

"Ooooo, is that the sugar cookie wax melt?" Without bothering to look up at you he nods his head softly. "You like that one." It warms your heart that he goes out of his way to get your fav scent

-SPEAKING OF SCENTS i might be biased but he smells so good. not like the earthy kinda scent some guys go for. he smells sweet like vanilla and lavender or cinnamon.

-HATES when you take pictures of him (he's okay with it if you're in them but he hates pics of himself) you have to cutest ones too. when he's sleep, when he's cuddling you, and sometimes you record his reaction to goofy shit you buy him

-he can fall asleep absolutely any where.

"Hitoshi, I got the snacks you wan-" Shinso's hood is over his head and he's sleeping on the bench outside of the corner store. "I was only in there for like two minutes..." You shake him violently because it's the only way to wake him. "huh?" he slowly opens those beautiful purple eyes, "come on toshi, let's go."

-I just know he snores, and it's not the obnoxious loud kind, more like white noise ik this aint abt shota but he definitly snores too

Hitoshi doesn't believe he snores, even though you've told him countless times he does. You've decided to record him tonight just to prove that you were right. His soft snores can be heard even with his comforter covering his head..

-Type of boyfriend to tease/"bully" you but if his friends tried to do it he'd get mad

-claims he's the best cook and he can only make scrambled eggs and rice

-he's 100% a small time gamer/streamer and his fans love you, cuz they'll see you bring him tea/water or some food and kiss his forehead and such

"Need anything else, before I go lay down?" He leans into your touch, "nah. thank you pretty." you kiss his forehead, "of course, you need to stay hydrated."

[ruizpizzaria]

FAZGANGG ROLL OUT ( FNAF MOVIE RAMBLES + EASTER EGGS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ) PT 1

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD ! ! ! !

ok first off i cant put into text or words about how i fucking insane i am about this movie so uhm ahahaha im not gonna or i might explode my head off and end up looking like cc's foxy's plush. THIS MOVIE WAS THE MOST LOVINGLY LOVING LOVE LETTER TO THE FANBASE AND I COULD NOT BE MORE NUTS ABOUT IT

SO IM GONNA WRITE ABT ALL THE LIL EASTER EGGS I NOTICED DURING MY WATCH OF THE MOVIE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ( many more rewatches to come )

UPDATE : PICS ADDED ! ! !

MATPAT AND CORYXKENSHIN CAMEOS ( NO MARKIPLIER D: )

do i even have to say anything about this??

MATPAT SERVING THEORIES SO HARD HE GOT HIRED AS A WAITRESS

CORY BREAKING ANKLES AS AN UBER DRIVER

the theater went ballistic yeah

SPARKY THE DOG CAMEO / FINALLY CANON LOL

MAN OH MAN WHATT I DDID NOT EXPECT THIS ONE.

In the movie we get a full glimpse of a disassembled sparky suit in parts in service -> max gets stuffed inside this suit later on or a suit next to sparky

the diner that matpat works at is also called Sparky's ( lol foreshadowing )

this is still pretty unreal to me.

FNAF BOOK LORE PLAYS A BIG PART IN THE STORY

There's a scene towards the end of the movie where Abby is hiding from foxy and runs to hide behind some arcade games -> reference to the sequence where Foxy is chasing Charlie in the silver eyes (lighting is almost one on one too)

The animatronics realize they're getting manipulated by afton /spring bonnie when Abby shows them the truth through a drawing depicting spring bonnie's true nature -> reference to Carlton showing the dead children that spring bonnie / afton is their enemy through drawing spring bonnie as their killer

CARL THE CUPCAKE

i just find it kinda funny that the guy eaten alive by cupcake was named carl seeing as how carl was cupcake's fanon name

also he can defy gravity too ig

THE SHIRT CARL ( ONE OF THE GOONS WHO CAME TO TRASH THE PLACE ) IS WEARING HAS A PRINT OF FNAF 6'S DRIVING MINI GAME

Chica's magic rainbow from FNAF world gets its own branded ice cream parlor chain :

EVERYTHING ABOUT ABBY HANGING OUT WITH THE FAZGANG.

Spaghetti and Pizza analogy

this one is a bit more obvious but I like how its used as away to illustrate how mike had to choose giving up abby or cc ( i refuse to call him garrett he is either evan or chris. )

Hospitalized Vanessa Theory

Now that Vanessa is hospitalized could she be filling the roles of cc or mike in fnaf 4 ( mainly cuz of hospital hallucinations )-> shes traumatized by the animatronics and could hallucinate back to her days in the hospital ( if she wakes up or if its a dream sequence or something not sure ) ; also could also work since she's afton's daughter

LIVING TOMBSTONE END CREDITS LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

point where i died in the theater and ascended

so yeah yk id say the trap was sprung successfully

I am the most normal about this movie

[bingusbongu]

Hey can you do a legoshi x male lion reader dating hcs? Bug boy means everything to me fr 🤞

A/N: RaAAAHHHHH I LOVE LEGOSHI HE IS MY FAVORITE BOY, he is so silly!!!!! Im absolutely happy to do this request!!! Tysm!!!! Happy reading~!

Legoshi x Male! Lion reader dating hcs!

○ at First glance, Legoshi didnt like you, because well, youre a lion and he has had some terrible experiences regarding lion business

○ he was weary, especially with how you easily toward him despite being in the same year of school as him. Let alone, he didnt like it when you were near the more vulnerable students, he was afraid for their saftey. He knew what those teeth and claws could do.

○ though, when you were nice, especially towards the herbivores. Legoshi let off some of his worry, deciding to cut you some slack. After all, you were still a student after all. How could you have done anything bad, you weren't one of the lions who hurt him, or Haru. Maybe you werent actually a threat

○ though, when you ended up joining the drama class, he was shocked. That a big predator wanting to join acting stunned him, so did everyone! But, you managed to get along with everyone great! And the students started to warm up to you very quickly

○ and in time, you managed to actually talk to Legoshi, after him avoiding you for so long, you finally managed to crack out some conversation from him. You told him you understand his weariness, but reminded him that he couldnt always just judge a predator by his looks or past, shoving practically all his doubts up his ass

○ you manage to get Legoshi to talk to you more often! Yay!

○ he was, of course, his shy lil wolf self but you were destined to crack that shy shell and get him to talk to you more

○ which led you to getting help from Jack, who happily helped you out

○ now, you knew the secret, so, one day you brought Legoshi a free egg sandwich for breakfast and seeing how happy he got brightened your day for sure

○ so, you bringing him an egg sandwich got common, it was one of the ways you actually managed to get Legoshi to warm up to you and to actually talk to you! Win win!

○ eventually, you guys would day greetings in the halls, or after classes you meet up and talk to eachother! Legoshi obviously still afraid to share certain things, but you left it be, decided not to pry tell he was ready to tell you

○ legoshi was.. conflicted. You were a deadly preditor, that many animals feared, but you were so nice, so gentle.. unlike the other lions he had met before.

○ you kinda reminded him abit of himself, a gentle predator who wanted nothing more than to be validated and seen as sonething more than a carnivore, yet, you were alot bolder than he was

○ he started enjoying hanging out with you, even just looking forward to it, getting excited when you even gave him your number so you guys could keep in contact!

○ he started to go down a crisis, realizing how much he started liking the time with you, and how his mind would recall back to a moment where you two were touching, whether it be you patting his shoulder to comfoft him, or your swaying tail accidentally brushing past him, amd it made his tail start wagging furiously

○ jack noticed You and Legoshi hanging out alot more, and he absolutely teased the big wolfy about it

○ definitely went to Louis for advice, he was so embarrassed about it, but the deer caved in and helped him, it was kinda pathetic to see Legoshi so lost, almost worst than with Haru

○ Louis tried to persuade Legoshi to make the first move, but Legoshi, our lovely boio, was to nervous

○ so, you took matters in your own hands and invited him out to the city after school to go eat somewhere

○ Legoshi was extreamly nervous after this, especially during because he kept looking at you the whole time.

○ sweet mans wanted to hold your hand but was to anxious

○ You took his hand in his and he nearly choked on his food

○ after that, yall start dating, yippe!!!!!!

○ wolf man is absolutely smitten by you, hardly able to keeo his eyes off of you, especially during drama, which he gets yelled at for

○ Jack and the fog squad are his hype mans! Definitely hyping him up when you two of little dates like- "thats our wolf boy look at him go<333333"

○ Legoshi is to nervous to take initiative or to be the first to make any moves, so youre mainly the one who does them, like holding his habd or kissing his head?????

○ Flustered baby

○ he definitely asks you once and awhile to touch your main fur, which you happily oblige and he just melts at the softness

○ sometimes, Legoshi definitely needs Validation, he hardly gets any:((

○ So youre his supplier, making sure he knows that you care about him and love him and that he isnt a monster

○ soon, when he is comfortable, he will start coming to you if he has problems or just needs comfort

○ LET HIM TALK ABOUT BUGS P L E A S E

○ he will talk about bugs forever and you attempt to listen but youre to focused on how cute he is when he is excited (your ass is not listening!!!!)

○ i feel like if you pet him he would absolutely melt, like he starts shaking his leg like a dog and ITS ADORABLE

○ he is so touch starved, it took him forever to open up to it, but when he does he is clingy, only in private though, he would be to embarrassed if it was public

○ you two are the carnivore couple

○ what??? You think people dont notice how excited legoshi gets when you enter a room???? And the way you smile at him and come and sit by him?????

○ its so obvious hun

○ i like to imagine some people are just happy to see Legoshi in an actual healthy relationship, regardless if its with a big lion guy, hey atleast hes happy!!!

○ you need to take care of him, this poor man forgets that he has to take care of himself, so sometimes you have to force him to rest, drink water, or to eat

○ you lecture him while your probably petting him so he aint listening

○ he wants to get stronger for you to impress you and show you he is strong too!! Even though your basically the man of the relationship he still tries

○ Let him impress you, he gets so happy when you praise him like cmon

○ would throw himself into danger just to keep you safe, though you would do the same but ur like 'baby please dont'

○ definitely lets you brush his fur, and if you let him, would love to brush out your main

○ love. Him. Validate. Him.

○ he has been through alot, he needs so much love i swear

○ good thing he has you:)

[gremlingottoosilly]

Omg I was just thinking about how you said in the monster au that you can buy the reader at a pet shop so like could we get a backstory about how the reader is in the pet shop was she like born into it or was she kidnapped and what was her life like in the pet shop before price bought her or even a story about price buying her lol I know it's a lot but you have me obsessed

Price never wanted a house pet. Always thought he is too damn busy for anything like this - besides, having three other monsters on his back as part of the pack also makes everything much, much harder. He doesn't want to pick up a girl from the street because all Human Resistance members are making really bad pack mates - you'd probably kill yourself and hurt one of his boys before he would settle you with cubs. He doesn't want anyone raised after the monster outbreak because you'd be too fucking young and he doesn't need that. He wants some meat on your bones and, preferably, some brain in your head. So, when he finds lil' ol' you, all curled in the furthest corner of the cage that serves as a house for captured humans, he can't help but break down in that warm, adorable smile of his. He listens to the monster that was selling you - something something, you were born before the outbreak, which doesn't make you exactly old - there were barely even ten-ish years after the revolution - but it makes you sweeter. More experienced. He wants to have you in his arms because you had a life before, and he wants to take it away. Give you a new purpose - take care of you as far from this place as possible. Price likes himself a pretty pet from the shop because you're sleepy and lazy and you don't fight him too much, but you have that weird sense of humor that makes him snicker. You'd do well with his boys - maybe, you would even be able to bear children from them too. You still remember the life when monsters were nothing more but fairytales, living in shadows - and you still can't believe that you're actually part of the pack now, a breeding mare for their leader. You're deadly fucking terrified of werebears, you don't want to be pregnant and you certainly don't want to be shared between four different monsters. It's better than the pet shop, you try to tell yourself. Price allows you to speak your mind about things, Gaz gives you shiny gifts and massages your tummy when eggs become too much, Soap likes to dress you up and Ghost is...not much, which is already a blessing. It's better than being with other humans because they are fucking psychos who are killing anyone who has ever been touched by a monster - and it's better than being with monsters from other companies. You fucking saw poor thing clinging to a hooded guy's tentacles and you don't want to be like her.