#FOREVER HERE FOR NAOMI!

[fuckingyrs]

for the past several months (since probably july) i've been back deep in the pjo universe, fanfiction is particular. i think i've read thousands of fanfics, and i felt the urge for a while to write some. i have a few idea what are in the works (mostly solangelo with some friends), but here's a little fic i posted the other day:

a little house on the edge of town by fuckingyrs

In the past three years, Nico has spent a fair amount of time alone with Naomi Solace. She may be a country music star known for her storytelling prowess and her predisposition to pissing off half her fanbase on a regular basis, but Nico had only ever known her as Will’s mother.

While on a trip to surprise Will’s mother for her birthday, Nico has a heart to heart with Naomi.

[dsc4]

I LOVEEEEE reading ur tags, they’re my favorite. Thank you so much it means a lot :)))

omg ofc!!! 😭😭 i love writing them bc i love reading and consuming your posts <3

it's been so fun to see how youve slowly been working storytelling into your legacy 🫶

[tojikai]

Sundered (Alt. Ending): CRUSH

Pairing: Gojo x reader - Toji x reader (this part)

• Part 1  |  Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending

Sundered+ (COMMISSION)

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments

word count: 5.8k

a/n: here it is! (it's late, sorry. not proofread too😭) im forever grateful to you all who waited and supported the sundered series and for supporting my other stories too. i cant do much but this means so much. ily.

If you never talk to him again, he will miss you forever.

“Do I not deserve it?” You asked him, almost flinching at your words when you promised yourself you’d never ask anyone that. Toji sighed, taking both of your hands and bringing them to his lips. “Not this. You deserve more than this. You deserve to be genuinely happy without sacrificing anything, without feeling spent.”

Your brows furrowed, trying to contain another flood of tears threatening to overflow from your already swollen eyes. Why does it always have to be so hard when it's you? When it was Satoru who tried to move on, he did with Naomi. You wouldn’t say it was a breeze for them but you just know it was never this hard.

Naomi and Satoru stayed together for a year, being the family you couldn’t give your child. And now you, you couldn’t even make it work with Toji. Why do you always have to feel stuck? Why does he refuse to take your hand and pull you out of this void that is slowly sucking you down?

Along with these thoughts, you felt a squeeze in your hand. “Y/N?” Toji called, “Y/N, it’s gonna be alright.”  No, it’s not, you thought. The roof of your mouth tastes bitter against your tongue; so bitter that it burns. “It’s not. But it’s alright. I just don’t want you to feel burdened with this, alright?” You reached up to his face, eyes wandering.

“I’m sorry.” You felt selfish. You felt so selfish for not thinking about how this void of yours could pull him down with you instead of him pulling you up. You felt so selfish for wanting him to keep hurting just so you could feel safe. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this, I didn’t realize it would be this hard on you too.” Your throat feels tight all of a sudden.

You stepped away from him, sniffing as you wiped your tears away. You couldn’t remember what else he said, you couldn't remember how you ended up in that room alone, crying as you clutched your chest, blaming yourself for wearing out such a good man.

You couldn’t remember, or more like you chose not to carve into your memory how that day ended. The only image you can see in your head is how he cuddled you to sleep, woke you up to eat with him and the kids, and went home. You remember him saying that they could always visit. And you hated yourself for doubting him.

Now you smooth out the bed, rearranging the pillows and gaslighting yourself that you’ve been the only one sleeping on it all this time just so it wouldn't feel so unfamiliar. You changed the sheets and prayed you wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night, reaching for the man you love. 

And the fact that this wouldn’t be the first time that you would do so…

You remembered how you would wake up and break down at midnights during the first few months of your separation from Satoru, weeping as you ran to your daughter’s crib just to remind yourself to be stronger, locking your phone away to not call and embarrass yourself in front of him and his then-new girlfriend again.

You heard the sound of the video your daughter was watching as she sat on the bean bag in the corner of your room. “Mama, look it.” You heard her tiny footsteps tap the floor as she ran to you, holding the phone out. The screen flashed with Toji’s caller ID, “Thank you, baby.” You kissed her cheek as you picked her up to sit her on your lap. 

“Yeah?,” You answered, hearing a sigh from the other end. You pulled your toddler closer to you just as she started to move near the edge of the bed. You that your voice didn’t sound hoarse at all. You didn’t cry as hard as you did with Satoru, but it was painful enough that you had to pause some chores just so you could think of a solution to fix it. 

You doubted there was a fix and if there was, you felt like Toji would only be trying out of pity for you.

You’re tired of that. You don’t want people to feel sorry for you anymore. You feel like you’ve been nothing but pitiful every year of your life. Your dad gave up on you and your mother, your baby daddy gave up on your relationship with him and now you feel like you caused Toji to give up on you too. 

Your brows bumped together at the thoughts and you were quick to shake your head, hoping it would shed off the searing pain in your chest as well. You can't have self-pity when you have a child. You’re determined to be better for her. Your index finger found its place on your lips, listening to your ex’s voice.

“Just wanna know how you’re doing.” You wanted to laugh, not to mock him but because you don’t really know how to explain how you feel to him. You decided to answer it from the surface, “I am okay, surprisingly.” You sniffed, hearing a sigh from the other end of the line and a tiny laugh from Megumi, probably watching something on his iPad. 

You would say it’s too early for him to call you, but this whole breakup isn’t even like the normal ones. You broke up for each other's well-being. Not because you fought, not because one of you cheated, not because you just started to hate each other. You broke up wanting only the best for each other.

“I know this is for the best.” You wanted to help Toji feel better about this decision. You could tell that there was guilt on his part. He probably feels like what he did was just an inch kinder than Satoru’s way of leaving you. That would eat him inside. The last thing Toji wants to do is shatter all your progress.

“I don’t feel the best about it.” There was no hint of amusement in his chuckle, no trace of smile in his words. You don’t even know if he meant to say he feels bad for doing this to you. You don’t want to assume that he’s not doing better away from you because you’re pretty sure he’s more relaxed now that he doesn’t have to worry about his girlfriend thinking of someone even when she’s with him. 

“Please, don’t dwell on it. I, uh, I have thought things through and it’s… it’s just getting kind of lighter for me.” You blinked away each tear that came with the lies that are flowing out of your tongue. It’s not getting any lighter. If anything, the crushing weight is still continuously pressing down on you and you know any time soon, you might break down in this phone call.

“I don’t know if I can trust your words…” Aside from the fact that it has only been a day, Toji thought back on your last conversation before you broke up. He’s well-aware of your tendencies to push all of your feelings aside  because you blame yourself for the fall of your relationship. You would probably shoulder all of this again, like you did with your separation from Satoru.

Toji isn’t all clean here but he doesn’t know how to get that to you. You can be very stubborn when it comes to these things especially when it concerns your past. It’s an unhealed part of you and Toji can’t help but feel like your previous arguments, his words to 

you and how he made you feel contributed to it rather than alleviate it.

“Toji, this isn't good for me. For us,” You’re not talking about your relationship with him but it’s about him contacting you. “I know that we’re still good, we broke up to save each other,” you laughed half-heartedly, “Our kids are friends, of course, we can’t just throw that away, but for now…” You took a deep breath.

“For now, let’s give each other space. I’m not mad at you, I could never hate you but, Toji, this isn’t helping me at all.” The crack in your voice sent a blow to Toji’s heart, “I…I want to be able to talk to you, see you and visit Megumi with Yui without feeling the guilt of letting something so good slip away so, please...” You took a deep, painful breath.

“Let’s just give each other some space. Just until I have picked myself up again.” You covered your mouth, desperate to turn away from your child who’s been starting to glance at you. Toji’s silence felt like it could squeeze you, like a soundless bubble getting smaller and smaller around you. 

“I’m sorry. I…I shouldn’t have called.” Of course, you’re not fine, Is he out of his mind? The voices in Toji’s head knocked sense into him as he realized what he did. How could he be so insensitive? Is it because he knows of his crimes, the source of his guilt and how he didn’t think it would affect him as much as it does now?

Now, even this breakup feels selfish. How could he just decide to leave when you’ve been trying so hard? He’s not different from your baby daddy—running away when they couldn’t handle the pressure, leaving you to clean up after the mess. Toji closed his eyes tight, clearing his head, begging himself to say the right words and make the correct decisions.

“I—I’m still here for you always, alright? Take care, Y/N. Kiss Yui good night for me.” He spoke slowly, fighting the loss in the empty space he’s staring at, absorbing your soft hums and apology as he continued, “I’m sorry.” I’m sorry, baby. It took every fiber in his baby not to say it like that. For your sake. And for him. 

If you never talk to him again, he will miss you forever.

You put the phone down, feeling your daughter’s head on your chest as she stared up at you. Your mother once said that children do not understand these things yet but they feel their parents’ pain when it happens. And just like that, it’s almost as if your baby girl can read you. Her eyes says that she wants to help but doesn’t know how because she doesn’t eve understand it.

“Mama sad?” Her voice was small, it’s amazing that even at her age she knows how to try and soothe you. She knows that this is not the time to be playful without even knowing the situation. All she knows is that her mother is sad and crying. “No, mama’s just tired.” You smiled at her and for the first time she seems hesitant to reciprocate it.

“Mama sleep.” She got suddenly, bouncing her way to the spot next to you as she gets into a curled sleeping position. She’s a smart child. You laid down next to her, cuddling her small frame for as long as she can sit still but it wasn’t long before she was playing again, forgetting about it all. She’s still a baby after all. But this kid right here is the one who will always pull you out of the waters.

You wished that you could forget and get over this as quickly as this baby does, You wished it would all just fly out of your mind, that you could just throw up all of the pain out of your heart. You wished that you could just dust off the broken pieces of your relationship from your clothes, that you could scrub away the pain in the shower and watch it flow down the drain.

—————————-

“Look, I know Yui’s always been our priority but if you need a bit of time for yourself, you know you can leave Yui with me.” Satoru came earlier than expected. You can tell that he’s trying to stay inside the ‘boundaries’ as he struggled to find the right words to say about your breakup with Toji.

“You should take a break from work, if you think that’s what you need, I will-“ You placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. Satoru doesn’t want to seem like he’s taking advantage of the situation, that’s the last thing he wants to do. As painful as it is to admit it, he knows that you love Toji. 

“Thanks. But it’s alright. We’re good, we’re just…not dating anymore.” You forced out a laugh, trying to make it better than how it really is. It’s clear to Satoru that you’re having a hard time. He could see it in your face, your eyes. Satoru remembered those times when he would do anything just to avoid looking at you and seeing how badly he broke you.

He was heartless for letting himself make you feel like that. He was stupid for letting you feel like that. 

“Thanks. But it’s alright. We’re good, we’re just…not dating anymore.” You let out a laugh, retracting your hand away as you reached for the towel to wipe your daughter’s food-stained cheek. “Megumi and Yui still play together, I mean they’re besties now, right?” Yui giggled at the mention of her friend.

As much as Satoru wants to have another chance with you, he just doesn’t think he would deserve it just like that. Also, he doesn’t think he can see you like this everyday. Now he wants to talk to Toji. If it’s because of his interactions with you then Satoru himself would volunteer to give the big guy the assurance he wants. 

It would be painful for Satoru but to see you so dull makes him want to give up his fight. If he even has some. His friends, mostly Shoko, already told him that he already lost all his chances. “You’re not a cat. You don’t get nine lives in this Satoru.” She would say and Suguru would quickly add “You used to have nine lives, actually. But you’re a dead man to her now.” It was playful but depressing talk but valid but…sad.

It was everything but playful to Satoru, no matter how much his friends tried to lighten up the delivery, it still felt like playing darts with his heart. Because he knows how much truth those words hold. He would smile and shake his head. His friends are never the ones to sugarcoat shit. 

After saying goodbye to  Y/N with his baby girl, Satoru can’t help but feel curious about your breakup. He’s almost a hundred percent sure that it’s Toji’s decision because of how you are right now. He doubts that you’d be the one to break it off. You’re a fighter, he knows that. He hates that you have to deal with these cowards of men who only know how to break.

But of course, Toji’s more deserving than him. That’s the bitter truth. Toji left for your good, while Satoru…just gave up on you back then. He will regret it for the rest of his life if he doesn’t get you back. 

Get you back. He felt like a villain, hoping that you were the first to initiate the split. That would give Satoru so much hope. Thinking about why you did it (if you did), taunts him into assuming that maybe you still have something with him. But this isn’t right. No. Satoru should be better than this. Your happiness comes first. Even if it’s not with him.

Satoru swallowed the rushing mix of emotions that fogged his mind as he drives. It felt like swallowing needles, allowing them to go straight to his cracking heart. It’s almost impossible now, huh, to get you back? Even when you’re single again, it still feels impossible. Why is he even imagining it?

Shaking his head, he successfully parked his car, clapping his hands as he looked at Yui through the rearview mirror. “Let’s go now, my heart~” He sing-songed and the toddler eagerly reached up to him. “Tomorrow we go back to Mama, alright? She’s kinda sad, isn’t she? We gotta rescue that!” Yui cheered with him, despite not understanding what her father was saying.

Satoru knows that he can’t meddle with your relationship with Toji, no matter how much it bothers him. The least he can do is try to brighten your mood. Without any ulterior motives, of course. This is a vulnerable time for you. He doesn’t think he can stomach trying to get in through those cracks in your heart because of your failed relationship. 

It’s not the right thing to do and that’s not what a good person who truly cares would do. He can only support you, but he doesn’t plan on taking advantage of this situation. 

—-------------------------------------------------

3 months later

It’s a blessing to be a mother. It’s hard too. Especially, when your daughter won’t allow you to have a break from your ex for more than three months. “Mama!” She screamed at the top of her lungs for the hundredth time that morning. “I just took your bag, let’s go.” You wished you could’ve taken a picture of her, standing as she held the door of her room open.

“You’re so big now, baby.” Her birthday’s in a few months and you feel like crying because it felt like you just gave birth to her yesterday and now she’s turning three. Time is a thief. You wonder if so much has changed with Toji’s life too. You wouldn’t be shocked if he’s got a new girlfriend. After all, Satoru only took a few weeks to find someone new when you broke up.

That fucking stings. You told yourself and if you weren’t holding your daughter’s hand and her bag you would physically clutch your chest. The thought of being so replaceable has been a constant in your mind since Satoru and Naomi. 

And if it happens with Toji again, you’d probably just close the table for love.  You drove to the park, a meeting place you chose for the kids. You don’t want to be in Toji’s house. You don’t think you can handle that yet. 

You wondered if you’d be greeted by some new lady with him, like how Satoru received you with Naomi’s head on his chest. What if they play with the kids instead and leave you out of place during the whole play date? Or what if they leave you to watch the kids while they get some snacks, taking their time to play couple while you wait?

What if— A knock on your window broke off your train of thoughts as you took in your surroundings. That’s right. You’ve been driving and now you’re at the part. And now Toji’s shading his eyes, his hand arched over his brows as he tried to see through your windows. “Gumi!” Yui squealed, kicking in her car seat as Megumi waved from the outside. 

Toji was holding him in one hand as his bag hang loosely on Toji’s shoulder. You rolled the windows down, gulping your anxiety as you thanked the heavens that none of the scenarios in your head came true. 

“You spaced out.” He chuckled a bit awkwardly as he smiled at you. There’s something new about him. Did he really glow up after leaving you? You almost frowned but you gave him a laugh, trying to think of an excuse as to why you’re sitting absentmindedly in your car a few minutes before meeting with your ex and his child.

“I was trying to remember if I locked our door.” You laughed, gathering your things as you stepped out. “Can I hold that for you?” Toji offered as you opened Yui’s door. You thanked him softly, trying your best to seem relaxed. You don’t know if you should be glad or worried that he’s being so cool.

It could be because he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or because he doesn’t really give two shits about your relationship with him that he doesn’t even feel uneasy meeting for the first time after you broke up. 

Or maybe because he’s already moved on to someone else, he just didn’t bring her with him because he’s a respectful man. You swore you heard a voice say it and it almost convinced you that it’s your brain that wants you dead. “Yui.” Megumi’s neck stretched as he looked over your shoulder for his best friend.

“Chill, man. Your long lost bestie will be free in a minute.” He still doesn’t fail to make you laugh. You put Yui down and watched the two kids adorably and messily hug. Now you’re glad that you taught them the importance of hugs. 

“It’s cute that they’re still comfortable with each other.” You commented, pulling at your clothes as you tried to distract yourself from checking your ex out. You’re thinking hard to figure out what changed with his look. Aside from his forehead showing as the wind played with his dark hair, 

“Let’s sit there, near the seesaw. They love that.” The kids were talking in a language only they understand, pointing at stuff before laughing as if it was the funniest thing they saw while to you, it looked like nothing. You would give everything to be a kid again. Just carefree and happy. But seeing your daughter makes you realize you wouldn’t have this any other way.

“How have you been?” He started as you sat down, hugging yourself as you looked ahead at the children. To be honest, you don’t know how to answer that. Do you tell him first that you miss him? Or do you tell him first that you got a clearer understanding of the holes in your relationship with him?

“I won’t deny that I missed you.” He chuckled leaning back. “But I did some reflecting.” He paused, glancing over to you, eyes traveling across your face. “A lot of reflecting actually.” He nodded, licking his lips. Right. That’s right, you thought, referring to his looks. Aside from his hair being longer, he looked…softer. You blinked away your thoughts, clearing your vision.

“I…I’m okay.” You don’t know how to tell him it could’ve been better if he was still with you. You wondered if your relationship problems would’ve been gone now if you didn’t break up. Would it have been better by now if you kept going? “I missed you, of course. But,” You laughed airily, “I’m getting better.”

You didn’t let your breakup with Toji affect you as a mother to Yui. But if you’re talking about yourself. You’re still trying. You have lived without Toji, of course, you can still keep going now. But your split felt like a crash from cloud nine. You’ve been so soaked with your happiness with him that when he left it felt like you were slowly getting drained and dry.

He walked you into a field of roses and when you returned to your old garden you realized how dull it was. Yui was your sunshine in those days under the dark clouds. She was a sunlight that went out of its way to bring a smile on your face. “It’ll get better.” You sighed, glancing at Toji and seeing the solemn look on his face. Does he feel sorry for you? Does he feel guilty for leaving so abruptly as your baby daddy did? Does he feel—

“It doesn’t feel any better for me at all.” Toji’s not one to hide the reality of his feelings from people he feels comfortable with. It melts your heart when you think about how he loosens up with you. It makes you feel special. Though, not special enough to fight for.

“It will. Soon.” You looked down. You know that it wasn’t his intention to make you feel as if you’re making him feel guilty for choosing his peace. But it still feels like it and you don’t know what to say anymore. I’m sorry? I’m sorry that you feel sorry for me? He nodded, smiling so softly. Charming, you thought. You feel sad for the people who don't get to see this. Yes, his smirk can make one feel things but this smile…

The day went by fast, Toji invited you to dinner since a restaurant was nearby but you politely declined. It’s not that you want to. It’s just that you have to. One thing that you learned from your heartbreak with Satoru is that the more that you see them, the deeper the shards cut. 

“My mom’s coming over for dinner. Maybe next time.” Your genuine smile contradicted the lie flowing out of your lips. It was so tempting when he looked like this, but you have to stand your ground. Next time. The two words reverberated inside Toji’s head and that was enough to push aside the disappointment he felt when you declined. 

“That’s alright. There’s always a next time.” It sounded as if he was reassuring himself, emphasizing that you’re fine with meeting him and Megumi again next time. This is enough for now. After all, he still has to reflect on a couple of things regarding your breakup. But everything always seems to be pointing him back to you. 

—————————

“Just call me when you’re ready to go, and I’ll pick you up.” Satoru’s words before he left you and Yui earlier started to get twisted inside Toji’s head. Now that Toji has let you go, Satoru’s just waiting for your go signal so he can pick you up again. He swallowed dryly, faking a smile when you looked back at him, laughing at whatever the kids did that he didn’t see.

Time flew by fast but that image of you leaning towards Satoru so that he could give his daughter a kiss as he said that to you has been stuck in Toji’s head all day. The kids were drinking juice with small towels around their shoulders. “I can, uh, I can just drive you home, you know? I mean, so that Satoru wouldn’t have to drive all the way here again.” He suggested, wiping off some of the water droplets in his son’s body.

“It’s alright, he’s already on his way anyway and he owes Yui a kitty cake that they didn’t get to buy last time.” You smiled at him, before asking to leave to give Yui a quick warm shower. Toji would’ve wanted to chat a bit more with you. Just spend more time with you. He couldn’t ask for so much of it now. It felt like it would be too much of an imposition for him to do so. 

After a couple of minutes, the doorbell rang and he placed Megumi on one of the rugs, reminding him to stay there so he won’t slip. He sighed, running to his gate, knowing that it would be Satoru and of course, since you’re still getting Yui ready, the polite thing to do is to let him sit and maybe, entertain your baby daddy a bit.

“Oh, come on in. She’s just getting Yui ready.” His voice was almost monotonous, the nod of his head was another way to be a bit more ‘friendly’ to the guy. “You a fan of iced tea?” Toji cleared his throat with Satoru following behind him. Megumi was still on the rug, staring off into space. Toji can’t help but laugh when Satoru waved a hand at his face.

“Yui Dad.” He looked up, waving his small hand despite the blank look on his face. “He really looks like you.” Satoru commented, “Except his hair.” Toji placed a pitcher on the counter, pouring a glass for the man, something he didn’t think he would ever do. “I’m glad you and Y/N are doing better,” Toji spoke after a couple of minutes of silence. 

“Yeah,” Satoru nodded, holding Megumi’s hand as he tried to walk towards Toji. “We’re getting more used to this co-parenting thing. Figured out it was healthier for all of us when we’re not constantly arguing about something.” Toji doesn’t know if it’s right to say it but it already came out of his mouth before he realized it.

“The both of you single made it better, eh?” He didn’t mean it to start something with Satoru again, it’s just that that is the first thing that popped up in his head when he heard him. “Yes and No.” Satoru answered before he could even back it up with something lighthearted. “Me being single, yes. Because Naomi was basically a wedge, one cause of the problems that used to arise between us. And no, because no problem arises directly from you regarding those arguments.” He shrugged, taking a sip before continuing. 

“Actually, I don’t even know why you broke up with her, if I’m going to be frank I trusted you with my family already, why did you even left her?” He’s saying a lot more now than before. Definitely a healthier man. And he seems like he’s back to his real self now. Toji might even assume he’s drunk if only you didn’t mention that he doesn’t handle liquor well.

“I’m not trying to guilt-trip you, alright? I want you to love her because you truly love her, but come on, man, there’s no threat.” Yui definitely takes after her father. Very talkative, Toji thought. Inhaling, he gathered his thoughts and which aspect of what Satoru has said he should focus on, “I don’t know.” Was his short answer. 

“I mean… I was worried. I don’t know if she’s really over you. I don’t want her to keep hurting by my side.” It was quiet. Satoru didn’t speak, allowing Toji to continue. “Plus, I fear that she will forever feel like she just comes second to my wife. To be honest, I feel that with her too. With you being her first.” Toji felt surprised at his honesty. He just hopes that you won’t overhear this.

“You’re the present. I’m her past.” It felt bitter for Satoru to say, “I’m starting to accept that now. I’m just contented that I can be with my daughter and that I take care of them even from the sidelines.” 

But Satoru would forever wish it didn't have to be like that. 

“I’m not playing matchmaker. I just want what’s best for her. Even if it’s not me, Toji.” He stood up, sighing as he heard footsteps coming closer. You came in struggling to carry a barefoot, laughing little girl, a towel and her bag. “Dada!” She screamed with a smile as she tries to get away from you. “You’ll slip!” You warned her and Satoru quickly went closer to take her in his arms. 

Toji sat there for a minute more, processing the man’s words. The best for you. If he’s going to ask Satoru about it, he’d say that if he has to pick someone for Y/N, Toji will be a top candidate. Aside from the fact that he’s a good man who truly cares for her, he also easily understands your situation because he has a child of his own too.

It’s safe to say that right now, you’re the only man that Satoru feels is safe to leave his daughter and baby momma with. His past mistakes and horrible decisions put him in this place and the least that he could do to make it all up to you is support you and whatever makes you happy as long as it’s good for you and his child.

“We’ll be going now, thank you, Toji.” Only then has Toji realize that he’s been staring at the three of you now and his baby boy who’s trying to hug Yui as her father puts on her shoes. “Uh, yeah. Let me walk you guys out.” He licked his lips, blinking fast as he tried to snap himself back to reality. “Come on, Megs. After this, you take a bath, alright?” He picked him up, wrapping a towel around his body.

“Come again. Please.” Satoru laughed as the little boy waved, probably worried that it would take months for his little friend to come over again. “She’ll be back soon, bro. Chill.” That’s wild, Toji thought, He just called my son ‘bro’. Before you could even get on the other side of the car, Toji has made up his mind. “Uhm, Y/N.” You looked up at him, for some reason, eyes shining with what seemed to be…hope.

“Can we come over sometime?” Megumi’s little cheer made your smile wider, nodding at them, “Of course..” You felt like a teen, worried that you answered too quickly, “Anything for that ‘gumi smile.” You played it off cool but kept your eyes on Toji the whole time. 

You didn’t hear anything about what he and Satoru talked about. But it was nice to know that they’re starting to get along. Inside, Satoru was fixing his daughter’s things, somehow glad that he couldn’t hear whatever the of two of you were talking about because no matter how happy he is for you, he’d always break into smaller pieces each time he saw you smile and look at Toji like that.

He knows. Because you used to look at him like that. 

Albeit, crossed with pain and longing, you used to look at him with so much love. Overflowing. And then, along with the tears he caused. It felt like acid in his stomach, threatening to spill out of his mouth whenever he thought of what you went through because of him. But now you’re happy. 

He didn’t know that love would show him that some people are worth being pulverized for.  

The car door opened just as he pretended to find something inside the glove compartment and he swallowed the pang in his chest at the glow on your face. “Gumi, babye! Gumi, babye!” His child screams behind him, waving her hands back at her playmate. “You ready to go?” He asked you and you hummed, glee evident even in the small sound. 

With that, the two of you waved at Toji and Megumi, pulling out of their driveway. You smiled at the shared nods between Toji and Satoru before speeding down the road to the bakery where Satoru usually buy Yui’s cakes. Your mind kept going back to Toji. Maybe you’re being delusional but you can’t help but feel like he had to gather the courage to ask you that very last-minute question. 

He feels like a…high school crush. 

And maybe he’s being a high school crush because a week later, he shows up at your doorstep dressed like a heartthrob with a kid in oversized sunglasses and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

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[jewish-microwave-laser]

And here is the most devastating fact of Frank's posthumous success, which leaves her real experience forever hidden: we know what she would have said, because other people have said it, and we don't want to hear it.

The line most often quoted from Frank's diary are her famous words, "I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart." These words are "inspiring," by which we mean that they flatter us. They make us feel forgiven for those lapses of our civilization that allow for piles of murdered girls—and if those words came from a murdered girl, well, then, we must be absolved, because they must be true. That gift of grace and absolution from a murdered Jew (exactly the gift that lies at the heart of Christianity) is what millions of people are so eager to find in Frank's hiding place, in her writings, in her "legacy." It is far more gratifying to believe that an innocent dead girl has offered us grace than to recognize the obvious: Frank wrote about people being "truly good at heart" before meeting people who weren't. Three weeks after writing those words, she met people who weren't.

Here's how much some people dislike living Jews: they murdered 6 million of them. This fact bears repeating, as it does not come up at all in Anne Frank's writings. Readers of her diary are aware that the author was murdered in a genocide, but this does not mean that her diary is a work about genocide. If it were, it is unlikely that it would have been anywhere near as universally embraced.

We know this, because there is no shortage of writings from victims and survivors who chronicled this fact in vivid detail, and none of those documents have achieved anything like Frank's diary's fame. Those that have come close have only done so by observing those same rules of hiding, the ones that insist on polite victims who don't insult their persecutors The work that came closest to achieving Frank's international fame might be Elie Wiesel's Night, a memoir that could be thought of as a continuation of Frank's diary, recounting the tortures of a fifteen-year-old imprisoned in Auschwitz. As the scholar Naomi Seidman has discussed, Wiesel first published his memoir in Yiddish, under the title And the World Was Silent. The Yiddish book told the same story told in Night, but it exploded with rage against his family's murderers and, as the title implies, the entire world whose indifference (or active hatred) made those murders possible. With the help of the French Catholic Nobel laureate François Mauriac, Wiesel later published a French version under the new title La Nuit—a work that repositioned the young survivor's rage into theological angst. After all, what reader would want to hear about how this society had failed, how he was guilty? Better to blame G[-]d. This approach earned Wiesel a Nobel Peace Prize, as well as, years later, selection for Oprah's Book Club, the American epitome of grace. It did not, however, make teenage girls read his book in Japan, the way they read Frank's. For that he would have had to hide much, much more.

from "Everyone's (Second) Favorite Dead Jew" in People Love Dead Jews by Dara Horn, pp 9–10

[cognitivejustice]

Make a mini-pond to give nature a home

"Ponds are absolute biodiversity hotspots – in terms of both the range and density of species that use them. After you fill a hole in the garden with water, wildlife will come – very, very quickly. It's astonishing how quickly it comes,"

Ponds, he says, offer a mix of habitat types. "Within a pond you have cool bits, open water, shallow bits, the margins around the outside. You get this ecological principle known as the edge effect, where different habitats butt up against each other. It might be easy to think that you've got just two habitats – pond and not pond – but actually, you've got all these interlocking microhabitats." The result, he says, is a "diversity of life that so is much greater than in any other part of the garden".

"Ponds they are one of the earliest habitat types on the planet," says Naomi Ewald, technical director at the Freshwater Habitat Trust, a non-profit in the UK. "Darwin even hypothesised that life began in a pond. We are talking about a habitat that's been here forever, and life has evolved over millions of years to live in those environments. From the tiniest algae and the smallest life – most of which we haven't even begun to identify – to insects and plants, and then all those higher animals on top. You can find almost every single taxonomic group in a pond."

Networks of ponds – or "pondscapes" – are crucial for biodiversity. These small water bodies can be permanent or seasonal, natural or man-made, and provide habitats for many endemic, threatened or rare species.

Top tips for making your own mini pond

• Fill your pond with rain water, as tap water often has high levels of dissolved nitrogen and phosphorus.

• There's no need to top up with water, even in dry periods, as some animals like newts can benefit from varying water levels.

• Make sure there is a shallow edge so that creatures can crawl in and out of the water.

• Don't add fish. They will likely gobble up any invertebrates or tadpoles.

• Choose plenty of native pond plants, to avoid the spread of non-native invasive plant species.

• Don't take frogspawn from elsewhere to add to your pond as this may spread disease.

• Consider removing solid fencing around your garden, which can hamper movement of some species.

• Be patient. "A pond takes time to develop," says Thomas, "to settle itself, to grow plants and wildlife, to come to nature's balance."

[reignseclipse]

Only for you

Roman reigns x Lilac (OC)

Warnings: smut, public sex, MINORS DNI!!!

___________

The after party for bad blood was going off without a hitch. Old friends catching up on good times, new friends laughing and sharing memories, and innocent flirting between the male and female wrestlers. Lilac say in the corner with her best friend, Naomi, watching everything going on. Hoping she'd get to talk to Roman. She'd seen him at the party, talking on his phone and then flirting with bianca. It seemed harmless to Naomi, just 2 friends having flirtatious conversation.

Lilac seemed.... Uneasy. "Girl, you ok? Naomi asked, following lilac's line of sight.

"yeah I'm fine." She lied, hoping Naomi would leave the situation alone. Lilac took a sip of her margarita and walked over to talked to Jey, who seemed to be in deep thought. "Hey you ok?" Lilac asked, a soft smile on her face.

"I guess, I mean I see him with her and it makes an ache in my chest" he said, looking down.

"yeah, I know. I've been meaning to talk to Roman but he won't get up off her long enough for me to" Lilac said, the annoyance in her voice clearly evident.

Jey gave her a pat in the shoulder, glancing to the side to look at Roman staring at them, His eyes with a glimmer of jealousy. Lilac rolled her eyes and walked away. Jey gave Roman a dirty look, pointing to lilac as she headed out. Bianca seemed to notice Roman's facial expression changed as he went after lilac, Jey looking at her for a moment. He still loved her, but in his mind he couldn't let her break his heart again. He walked away, leaving bianca standing there alone.

Lilac walked to the door, walking outside. The crisp fall air hitting her skin. She stood there for a moment before she heard the door open, hoping it was either Jey or Naomi, but instead was met with Roman's regretful eyes. She turned to walk away before he gently grabbed her wrist "hey, you can't avoid me forever." He said, his tone gentle yet, with a firmness to it.

Lilac turned around, percing her lips, her annoyance boiling over "I've been trying to talk to you all night but you've been so far up Bianca's ass I didn't get a chance." She spat, her voice filled with both anger and hurt.

"is that jealousy I hear in your voice lilac?" He chuckled slightly, making her scoff.

"I never should have come here. I'm going home." She said turning around to walk away, feeling Roman grab her wrist again, this time more firm but still gentle.

"wait, wait. Come here. Come here." He said, a playfulness to his voice.

Lilac turned around to look at him, her eyes scanning his face.

"I know you saw me flirting with bianca, but it's not what you think." He smiled. "I was trying to get her to apologize to Jey."

"Jey doesn't want her back, and if he does he sure as fuck don't act like it" lilac said, crossing her arms.

Roman sighed "I know what it must look like, but I promise you it's not. Haven't you started to realize I'm not interested in her or really any other woman on the roster, for that matter. There's only one woman I'm interested in"

Lilac felt tears sting her eyes "whoever she is, she's lucky"

Roman saw lilac holding back tears "baby girl, don't you realize?" He smiled.

"realize what? That I'm waisting my time being out here in the cold, talking to y-" he cut her off by crashing his lips to hers, shocking her at first, before she kissed him back. He moaned into her mouth, as if he was trying to savor what her lips felt like.

He pulled away momentarily looking at her in the moonlight "the woman I'm interested in, is you lilac." He smiled warmly "now what was all that you were saying?"

"I-" lilac hesitated, still trying to process what just happened "nothing"

"that's what I thought" he smiled, holding his keys up in the air, a car just a few spaces over lighting up.

"get in the car" he commanded, his voice was deep and husky, sending shivers down lilac's spine, going straight to her core.

Roman unlocked lilac's door, opening it for her before walking over to his side, leaning to the front lever to push the seat back "c'mere, sit in my lap baby girl" he commanded, helping her over.

Instinctively, she ground her core against him, earning a deep groan from him. His hands running up her sides as he pulled her to him, his lips connecting to hers in a searing kiss. With each passing move of her hips, she felt his erection pulse, making her moan at what she was doing to him. He slowly pulled away from her, lust written all over his face "let's get this dress of you, hmm?" He said, helping her raise it over her head. He realized as she took it off that she was completely naked underneath, earning a low growl from him "you were prepared for this weren't you" he smirked, connecting his lips to her collarbone.

"my pretty girl, all ready for me" he groaned, snaking his hands into her hair, gently pulling back. His lips connecting to her exposed skin, the sounds she was making driving him crazy.

"I was gonna wait til we got a hotel at least, but I don't think I can" he groaned, undoing his belt and sliding his pants around his knees.

"c'mere baby girl. Let me feel that pretty pussy on my cock" he growled, slowly sliding her down onto him. "F-f- fuck" he stammered "so fucking tight." She slowly lowered herself into him, feeling her body take him in as if he were her missing piece. "Uhn fuck baby! The way that pussy is gripping me!" He voice was deep with need, a need to fill her with him, to be one with her. He felt himself bottom out inside her, grabbing her hips and moving her slowly up and down his length "f-fuck"

She buried her face in his neck, inhaling his scent. She grabbed onto the back of the seat, using it to hold onto while she bounced on his length. His groans were much more needy now, seeing her bounce on him driving him close to the edge but he wasn't gonna allow himself to leak before she did. He grabbed her hips, using them as leverage to thrust into her, hitting her spot with every thrust "fuck ro!" She groaned, her walls starting to clench around him.

"that's it, that's my good girl. Let me feel you cum on my cock" he growled, nuzzling his face in her neck. His thrusts were desperate now, chasing his own orgasm as she hit hers, her walls squeezing what little self control he had left out of him.

"fuck baby girl, I'm gonna fill you up? Is that what you want?" He moaned into her neck, as if he was waiting for her to give him permission.

Lilac made him look at her "cum for me, daddy, let go for me."

That's all he needed to hear, her words sent him spiraling into orgasmic ecstasy, his seed spilling into her waiting womb, and a primal roar escaping his beautiful lips. Lilac kissed him roughly, feeling his last thrusts before his body finally relaxed.

"f-fuck" he stammered "that was incredible"

Lilac didn't want to pull off his length, she knew her body would feel empty without him "I could stay like this all night" she smiled at him.

"if you did I would fuck you until you didn't know your own name" he growled, already ready to go again.

"you're insatiable" she giggled.

He smiled "only for you"

[citrustan]

slipping through my fingers [4] (myg)

title: and the hits keep coming 2.0

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst!, fluff, smut summary: just when you thought yoongi couldn't surprise you anymore, it happens again. warnings: [other parts should be read before this one] a lot more feelings of insecurity and sad vibes, yoongi stepping over oc's boundaries, oc being disrespected yet again (nothing new nothing changed same old shit same old fucking shit)

You were tempted to ignore him, but with Nao involved, you couldn’t avoid dealing with him.

“You should go eat. I can just talk to him for you…?” Taehyung suggests as he watches you contemplate your next move.

That would be great help to you. While you couldn’t afford to avoid him forever, maybe a few days wouldn’t hurt. So, with an overwhelming and shaky sigh, you passed the phone to him.

He hurriedly motions for you to leave the room. And you reluctantly do so.

Taehyung scrunches his nose and shuts the door in your face.

Fighting the urge to hold a glass against the door, you forced yourself to wait in the kitchen till he was done.

On the other side of the door, Taehyung angrily exhales, taking his own sweet time to answer your phone. Then the call drops.

Not even a second later, the loud ringtone fills the room once again. It reeks of desperation.

“Hello?”

No response.

He tries again, “Hello?”

“…Taehyung?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

After another pause, the voice scoffs, “Figures.”

A bit taken aback, Taehyung bit his tongue, “What do you want?”

Taehyung hears nothing back. “Yoongi? Why’d you call?”

“I called _____, not you.”

“Well, she can’t talk now.”

Now it was Yoongi’s turn to bite back. “This has nothing to do with you, Tae. I just need to talk to her.”

“You can’t. You have me instead. What more do you have to say?”

There’s yet another long pause.

“How is she?”

Taehyung almost laughs in disbelief, “You can’t be serious. How do you think, Yoongi? Is the future Mrs. Min okay with you asking about your ex?”  

“Careful, Taehyung-”

“Does everyone else know already?”  

“Of course not, I went straight to _____’s. And nobody can know about it either. We’re not ready. I just…”

Taehyung grew more confused the longer Yoongi took to speak.

“I need to talk to her, Taehyung. I really… I messed up.”

“Did something more happen?”

Another pause.

“No. I just had to check in… Can I come by tomorrow? I still need to drop Mimi off.”

“Uh… right, about that. Listen…” Taehyung thinks for a second, “I think, maybe it’d be better if you just let her breathe for a moment. And I’ll come get Naomi.”

Another pause.

“Did she ask for that?”

Taehyung had half a mind to lie about it but he refrained, deciding that the truth would hurt him more. “You know she’d never. She’s too… stupid-” Stupidly in love with you. “-and you need to stop taking advantage of her; you need to hold back, Yoongi. You can’t go running to her for everything anymore.”

Yoongi knew he was in the wrong, but was annoyed that Taehyung was the one to tell him that.

Still a little in denial, he childishly spits, “Fine, bye. Get here before 7.”

Taehyung wanted to retaliate but he was immediately met with a little digital sound indicating that Yoongi had hung up on him.

A little bemused, Taehyung pulls your purple Samsung away from his ear and stares at it--- “So fucking typical.”

As Taehyung steps out of your room, he almost bulldozes you down.

��Jesus, _____.” Frowning, he asks, “Were you eavesdropping?”

You shook your head and wordlessly waved a jar of tiramisu in front of his nose.

Taehyung eyes you suspiciously, “I’m going to pick Naomi up tomorrow.”

When he says that, your face visibly drops. You didn’t actually expect Yoongi to pull away so fast. Was his girlfriend already keeping him from you now? You almost wanted to smack yourself in the head for thinking like you owned him.

Taehyung debates on whether he should elaborate or wait to see if you ask about it.

But you just gently and nonchalantly nod, “Right, of course. That’s okay. Please bring her here by 7.”

“He didn’t ask for this!” Taehyung blurts.

Your expression doesn’t change.

A little intimidated, he looked straight at his feet and explained, “I offered to pick her up. But Yoongi called because he wanted to talk to you. I just told him that I thought it was a bad idea.”

When he doesn’t hear you react, he slowly looks up at you, suddenly feeling miniscule. And he swore he could see steam coming out of your ears.

Taking a deep breath, you stare into his eyes, “You need to stop overstepping. You’ve done it once already. You need to stop.”

He almost felt the heat radiating from you.  

Almost as if he didn’t actually expect you to react so negatively, he asks, “_____... You’re really mad about this?”

You slam your jar on the coffee table and storm off into the kitchen.

“The first time you meddled, Yoongi left me. The second time, he happened to meet his future wife. What’s it going to be now?”

Taehyung was stunned, “Are you kidding me? Are you just mad that I’m looking out for you in ways you yourself wouldn’t or do you really believe that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you planned it all,” you glare at him accusingly.

Too stunned to digest what you accused him of, his eyes just widened in bewilderment. “_____. I- Planned what, _____?”

You tip your head forward in mockery, “Planned what? Take a guess.”

The room fills with silence once more.

Taehyung shook his head, “I’m going to ignore all of that. And fine, I’ll ask him to call you back then.”

“No!” – “No?” He parrots.

“I don’t want him to call me.” You almost whine. You don’t even know what you truly want. (Actually, you do.)

“Okay.” Taehyung nodded reassuringly, his hands grasping at your elbows, “He won’t. I’ll bring Naomi back tomorrow. Okay?” But you shook your head obstinately, “No, I want her back now.”

“Right now?” - “Now.”

“_____...” He looked at the grandfather clock on your wall.

Cringing a little, Taehyung attempts to reason with you, “_____, it’s Yoongi’s turn to have her.”

“Yeah, that’s a spoken agreement, not a written and notarized thing. He can’t stop me from wanting to spend time with my daughter.” You’re sure this is evil _____ speaking and it’s as if you can’t control her.  

Taehyung nervously cracks his knuckles. He doesn’t have a counter argument. You are Naomi’s mother and arguably the primary caretaker after all. He figures he owes you this.

“So, will you get her back for me?” You weren’t really giving him an option.

Taehyung knew your word was final. Either way, he wouldn’t police you on being a mother. “Let me give Yoongi a call, okay?”

“You do that. I’ll make you something to eat before you go!” You smile sweetly.

Not quite sure of your strategy here, all you knew was that you wanted your daughter with you. It was your way of gaining some control back in your life. You don’t have it in you to think of whether or not this was ethical or right. You just did not want to spiral.

From the kitchen, you could faintly hear Taehyung on the phone.

You take note of his assertiveness and slap some extra mortadella on his sandwich. He deserved it for putting up with you. You couldn’t think of anyone else who’d still be with you and handle your mood swings.

Was that normal or just sad? You do not want to think.

In your mind, you were satisfied in life. Sometimes you regret bringing up marriage with Yoongi. Maybe if you hadn’t forced the idea on him, you could’ve been in Hyejin’s place now.

The fact that you’re even in this position is ridiculous. Sooner or later you’d have to face… everything. The reason they’re getting married and you aren’t. The fact that they might have Nao be a part of their wedding and you’d just have to smile and nod, that Nao may have another parental figure, that you won’t be Yoongi’s bride or a bride at all, ever, and that maybe you’ve lost Yoongi’s companionship forever.

You had to step out for a bit.

Right at that moment, Taehyung emerges from the living room into the kitchen.

Sighing, he starts, “So, he agreed. He wants to know if everything’s okay. Of course, I know it isn’t but I told him he had nothing to worry about. And he didn’t buy it.” –

You push the little ceramic plate towards him, “Eat your sandwich.”

Taking a large bite out of it, Taehyung thanks you and adds, “--- by the way, your food is on the dining table, I didn’t actually give it away, you know?”

“I saw it,” you confirmed, “Jus’ not hungry.”

Quickly changing the topic back to Nao, you ask, “So, can Nao be back now or…?”

“Yeah. Here’s the thing…” He stalled. “Nao’s coming now.”

A gulp. You think he’s swallowing his food.

“Yoongi’s coming with.”

‘Why do you always bring me bad news?’ is what you wanted to ask. Instead, you squeak out a “When?”

“Twenty minutes? Told me Nao was already dolled up or something.” He finishes his sandwich and washes the plate.

In a soothing tone, Taehyung proposes, “Why don’t you head down to the pâtisserie? I’ll receive them. You don’t have to worry about seeing him, okay?”

You appreciated his offer but chose to decline it, “No. It’s okay. I need to tidy up anyway,” – “_____, I’ll do it for you. I know how you like it. Go take a walk or grab a sweet treat or something, yes?”

“No, it’ll take too long for you to do it by yourself. You can help me though. Just do my bed, please?” You’re already walking off.

Taehyung follows you into your room but doesn’t have a chance to stop you, you’re already stripping down and into your ‘serious cleaning’ clothes. It’s just an old dress and rubber gloves.

Sometimes, Taehyung mourns what you and Yoongi could have been. You’re perfect for each other. The two of you just needed to work on your communication a little. He’s thinking about how much of you Yoongi’s missing out on and can’t help but scoff. In pop culture terms, he really fumbled you.

Suddenly you gasp, “Did you watch me change?” Aimed at the man.

“No!” Vehemently shaking his head, he repeats, “Not intentionally! I was zoned out!”

“Wow, calm down, I don’t mind, you know that.” You smile sweetly once again.

Grabbing a pillow, he sighs. Sometimes, he thinks you toy with him on purpose. He really can’t tell.

 ₊˚ ‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Forty minutes go by yet there has been no sign of Nao or Yoongi. No calls or messages, no updates whatsoever.

You ought to get Nao a little phone for herself. How had you not thought of this before? It’ll probably be a lot more useful now.

You were nervously readjusting the doilies in a circle over and over again when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Taehyung’s resting figure suddenly snapped upright, “I’ll get it.”

However, you were closer to the door and got to it before he could take two steps.

When you open the door, you wished Taehyung would’ve beaten you to it. You wish you had taken that walk or chosen to buy yourself a sweet drink; because you couldn’t even have guessed what was waiting for you on the other side of the door.

Nothing could have prepared you to see your ex-boyfriend with his current girlfriend and your daughter. Together. All of them. Holding hands. In front of you for the very first time. All of them.

While Yoongi had the decency of looking literally anywhere but in your eyes, you couldn’t say the same about his girlfriend. Fiancée.

Hyejin, placed between your daughter and your ex, exhaled a dreamy smile. “I hope you don’t mind me intruding, _____! Nao-chan wanted to show you our matching hairstyle!”

Bewildered and wordless, all you could do was smile and nod. You mechanically turn your head to look at Nao, who sported a baby pink lock of hair amongst her regular, natural hair identical to Hyejin’s.

You nodded and stepped aside, briefly bumping into Taehyung who looked just as uncomfortable as Yoongi, making space for the lovely family to step into your home. Your eyes were glued to your feet.

Just like always, before you take a drastic step, your daughter grounds you as she runs to you and clings to your lower half. Although, the pink strands of hair brushing against you almost make you lose it all. Almost.

Following which Taehyung breaks the tension by awkwardly, yet warmly greeting the pair, taking a load off of you.

You needed to lie down.

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ how to disappear completely by radiohead ₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

note: sorry! it probably gets better! i think this one has a few edits pending but i couldn't waitttt

[nhaomhi]

°•* Warmth in the Cold⁀➷. *

pairing: comforting!sunghoon x comforted!yn

synopsis: after getting out of a toxic relationship, sunghoon has always been there for you.

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, implied friends-to-lovers

naomi’s note: this was requested by someone but i cant reply to itt and i have not yet figured out how to tag people so i hope you see this 🥲 this is also so short omg i put this tg so quickly im sorry !! hopefully this lives to ur expectations hbsjshd thank you for this idea i actually love it sm

.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

The wind whipped through your hair as you stepped off the bus, your fingers gripping the strap of your bag like a lifeline. You had no idea where you were going, you only knew you couldn’t go back. The weight of his words still sat heavily on your chest, suffocating and raw.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. With a shaky hand, you pulled it out. Sunghoon’s name flashed on the screen.

You hesitated before answering. “Hey…” Your voice cracked.

“Y/N?” Sunghoon’s tone was immediately alert. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing around at the unfamiliar street. “I just needed to get away.”

There was a pause on the other end before he spoke again, firm and steady. “Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.”

You didn’t argue. You didn’t have the strength to.

The headlights of Sunghoon’s car cut through the darkness as he pulled up. He stepped out quickly, his brows furrowed with worry as he scanned your face. Without a word, he opened the passenger door and gestured for you to get in.

The ride was silent, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Sunghoon didn’t press you for details, giving you the space you so desperately needed. Instead, he let the soft hum of the radio fill the quiet, the melody soothing in its simplicity.

When you arrived at his apartment, he handed you a pair of his sweats and a hoodie. “Go get comfortable,” he said. “I’ll make us some tea.”

By the time you emerged from the bathroom, the tension in your shoulders slightly eased, Sunghoon was waiting on the couch with two steaming mugs. A plate of cookies—your favorite kind—sat on the table beside him.

“You remembered these?” you asked, a small, surprised smile tugging at your lips.

“Of course,” he said, grinning. “They’ve always been your favorite. Thought they might help.”

The simple gesture brought warmth to your chest. You curled up beside him, pulling the blanket he had draped over the back of the couch around your shoulders.

When you finally started to talk, the words came tumbling out in a rush. “I stayed too long. I thought I could fix it—I thought I could fix him. But all I did was lose myself in the process.”

Your voice cracked, and you stared down at your mug, your fingers trembling. “He made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Like I was hard to love.”

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his mug. But when he spoke, his voice was calm, gentle. “Y/N, listen to me. You were never the problem. You are more than enough—he just couldn’t see it. That’s on him, not you.”

Tears welled in your eyes, spilling over before you could stop them. “Why do I feel so broken, then?”

“You’re not broken,” he said, leaning closer. “You’re hurt, but you’re still here. And that means you’re stronger than you think.”

His words wrapped around you like a shield, offering you the strength you couldn’t find in yourself. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to cry—really cry—without holding back. Sunghoon moved closer, pulling you into his arms. His embrace was steady and warm, his fingers gently brushing through your hair soothingly as he let you fall apart in the safety of his presence.

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of something sweet. You shuffled into the kitchen to find Sunghoon standing at the stove, flipping pancakes.

“You’re making breakfast?” you asked, your voice still hoarse from crying.

He turned to you with a small smile. “You didn’t eat much last night. Thought you might be hungry.”

Something about his quiet thoughtfulness made your chest tighten. You sat at the counter, watching him move around the kitchen with ease.

“Why are you so good to me?” you asked softly.

He paused, setting a plate of pancakes in front of you. “Because you deserve it,” he said simply. “And because I care about you. A lot.”

Your breath hitched. Sunghoon had always been there for you, always steady and unwavering, but hearing him say it aloud was different.

Later that week, Sunghoon surprised you with a movie night. But it wasn’t just any movie night—he’d pulled out all the stops. Fairy lights were strung up around his living room, a makeshift fort made of blankets and pillows dominating the space.

“What is this?” you asked, laughing in surprise.

He shrugged, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I figured you could use some fun. Plus, I know you’ve always loved blanket forts.”

The childlike wonder of it all made your heart swell. As the two of you settled into the fort, a bowl of popcorn between you, Sunghoon handed you a mug of hot chocolate topped with an impressive amount of marshmallows.

“This is ridiculous,” you said, laughing as you took a sip.

“But you’re smiling,” he pointed out, grinning. “So, it’s worth it.”

One snowy afternoon, the two of you decided to go for a walk in the park. The world was blanketed in white, and the air was crisp and quiet.

At some point, Sunghoon bent down and scooped up a handful of snow. You barely had time to react before he tossed it lightly in your direction, hitting your shoulder.

“Did you just—?” you began, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Gotta be faster than that,” he teased, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Before you could think twice, you grabbed a handful of snow and lobbed it at him, laughter bubbling out of you. What started as a playful snowball fight ended with Sunghoon pulling you into a hug to keep you from pelting him with another snowball.

“You’re relentless,” he said, laughing as he looked down at you.

“You started it,” you shot back, grinning.

He didn’t let go right away, and neither did you. For a moment, the world seemed to still, and the warmth in his gaze made your heart skip a beat.

That evening, as you sat on his couch, sharing a blanket and sipping on tea, you turned to him, your voice soft. “Sunghoon?”

“Yeah?” he replied, his eyes locking with yours.

“Thank you,” you said. “For being here. For…everything.”

He smiled gently, his fingers brushing against yours. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad I could be here for you.”

You hesitated, then reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “I think I’m starting to see what you’ve been trying to show me. That I can be loved for who I am.”

“You can,” he said, his voice steady. “And you deserve to be.”

As you rested your head on his shoulder, you realized that with Sunghoon by your side, you were finally beginning to heal. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[honeydippedfiction]

Stages of Love

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Summary: Y/N, a famous R&B singer on tour, gets a surprise visit from her boyfriend, Lando Norris, who joins her backstage for an intimate, unforgettable night. As she pours her heart into her songs on stage, Lando watches from the sidelines, captivated by the love and magic between them.

WC: 3.8k

Warnings: sappy, romance, surprises, cheesy moments

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

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A/N: I took some inspo after watching Naomi Jon’s tour video (I got emotional leave me be😂)

As the tour rolled into another city, Y/N was in her element. She was halfway through her tour, filling arenas night after night, but the distance from her boyfriend, Lando, was starting to weigh on her. They’d been texting and calling when they could, but it wasn’t the same as having him there. Her team noticed her quieter moments, the wistful glances at her phone when she thought no one was looking.

But what Y/N didn’t know was that her team had orchestrated a surprise. Lando had flown across the world to be there for her tonight. It had taken weeks of planning, a carefully coordinated travel schedule, and a fair bit of deception, but it was finally happening.

The day began with soundcheck, the empty arena echoing with Y/N’s voice as she tested her mic. She stood center stage, strumming her guitar and singing softly. The band joined her, filling the empty seats with music. As she hit the opening lines of one of her slower songs, the quiet strum of her guitar wrapped around her gentle voice: “Hold me close, don’t let me fall / In a world so big, you’re my all…” She closed her eyes, singing the chorus with a raw vulnerability. The band fell silent as her voice lingered in the air. “Every time you leave, I lose it all…”

Lando, hidden below the stage with her team, felt his heart tighten. It was as if she was singing directly to him, every lyric resonating with the longing he felt whenever they were apart. Y/N’s camera guy, Eric, who had known her for years, watched the effect she had on him and nudged Lando.

“She’s something else, huh?” Eric grinned, filming Lando’s reaction.

“Yeah,” Lando said softly, his gaze fixed on her. “I’ve never met anyone like her.” He smiled, almost bashful. “It’s like… she’s got this magic that makes everything else disappear.”

One of Y/N’s dancers, Zara, leaned in, a teasing glint in her eye. “You’re totally whipped, aren’t you?”

Lando laughed, his cheeks flushing. “Guilty. Every time I see her on stage, it’s like I’m falling all over again.”

As Y/N moved to another song, a high-energy anthem, she began dancing alongside her backup dancers, their movements perfectly in sync. She was laughing, her joy infectious as she moved across the stage, her voice powerful and confident. “I’m stronger now, I’m my own kind of free / No one else completes me, just me, just me!” She threw her hands up on the beat, and her team clapped and cheered as she hit the final high note, flashing them a grin.

A few hours later, Y/N was backstage, getting ready for the VIP session. She had no idea Lando was just a room away. Her makeup artist, Alex, was applying the finishing touches to Y/N’s base, chatting with her as they worked.

“You look incredible, as always,” Alex said with a grin, dusting her cheeks with a soft glow.

Y/N sighed, glancing at her phone. “Thanks, Alex. I just wish Lando could be here. It feels like forever since I’ve seen him.”

Alex shared a knowing look with Bree, Y/N’s hairstylist, who was perfecting her wig. “You never know,” Bree said with a smile, trying to keep her tone casual.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “If only! He’s probably busy getting ready for his next race or doing simulator work. But I know he’d be here if he could.”

When the lights dimmed, Y/N took her place on a stool in the center of the small stage set up for the VIP acoustic session. Her fans, buzzing with excitement, filled the front rows, eagerly waiting for the intimate set. She adjusted her guitar and smiled out at them.

“This is my favorite part of the night,” she began, strumming a gentle chord. “It’s just us, no big production, just the music.”

She started playing the opening chords of a fan favorite, her voice soft and warm: “When the lights go down and I’m all alone / It’s your voice, I hear, like I’m already home…” The crowd sang along, their voices blending with hers, and her heart felt full. As the song ended, she leaned into the mic, looking out at her fans with a grateful smile.

“You guys are amazing. Thank you for making tonight so special!” she said, earning a round of cheers.

Then came the Q&A portion. A fan near the front called out, “Y/N, what do you miss most about home?”

Y/N smiled, her gaze softening. “Well… I miss my family, of course. And my friends. And… my boyfriend, Lando. He’s usually off racing, but he’s always so supportive, even from afar.”

Just as she finished speaking, she noticed a ripple of excitement in the crowd, people turning and pointing. Confused, she glanced to the side of the stage—and froze. Lando was walking out, his grin wide and his eyes shining with pure happiness.

“Oh my god!” she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Lando! Are you really here?”

He laughed, his face lighting up as he reached her. “Surprise, babe,” he said, opening his arms.

She rushed to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. The fans cheered louder, snapping photos and videos, capturing the sweet reunion.

Lando held her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I couldn’t stay away,” he said softly. “I had to see you.”

Still in shock, Y/N pulled back slightly, laughing as she looked up at him. “You’ve been planning this? I had no idea!”

He chuckled. “I had to keep it under wraps. Your team’s pretty good at secrets.”

She turned to her fans, her smile brighter than ever. “Everyone, this is my incredible boyfriend, Lando,” she said, as if they didn’t already know. The fans erupted, cheering and chanting his name.

After the VIP session and that unforgettable surprise, Y/N and Lando headed back to her green room, still buzzing from the excitement. The green room was alive with energy—her team bustling around, preparing for the main show, organizing outfits, makeup, and everything in between. But for now, Y/N was focused entirely on Lando, who had his arm around her as they settled into the cozy couch in the corner.

“So,” she said, looking up at him with a mischievous grin, “want a sneak peek of tonight’s outfits?”

Lando’s eyes lit up. “Absolutely. Show me everything.”

She laughed, grabbing his hand and leading him over to the rack of costumes her stylist, Bree, had meticulously organized for the show. Y/N picked up a glittering silver jumpsuit with fringe that sparkled under the lights. “This one’s for the opening number,” she explained, her fingers tracing the fabric. “It’s dramatic but comfortable enough for dancing.”

Lando raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. “That’s insane. I can already picture you in it on stage.” He smiled, his fingers brushing hers as she held it up. “And here I thought race suits were cool.”

She chuckled, moving to the next outfit, a stunning red ensemble with intricate detailing that flowed down the sides (just the gloves and the hair). “This is for the ballad section. Something a little more elegant. You know, a moment to slow down.”

Lando nodded, clearly taken by her enthusiasm and passion. “They’re all so… you. I mean, they’re powerful but still have that touch of elegance.” He looked at her with an affectionate smile. “Like you.”

Her cheeks flushed at the compliment, and she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him for a quick hug. “Thanks, Lan. You don’t know how much it means to me that you’re here to see all of this.”

One of her makeup artists, Alex, came over, holding a makeup brush and smiling. “Alright, lovebirds, time to start getting you ready, Y/N!”

Lando stayed close by, sitting on the couch as Y/N went through her pre-show routine. Alex began working on her makeup while Bree helped adjust her hair, styling it just right. Lando watched her with admiration, taking in every detail—her calm focus, her warm interactions with her team, her genuine laughter as they joked around.

Between touch-ups, Y/N kept glancing over at him, catching his eye and sharing a smile. She finally laughed, leaning toward him. “You’re going to make me blush if you keep staring like that.”

Lando shrugged, grinning. “Can’t help it. It’s amazing seeing you in your world like this. You’re in total control, and everyone’s so inspired by you.”

She beamed, her fingers brushing his for a moment before turning to Bree, who handed her the first costume. “Alright, costume change time. No peeking!” she teased, heading behind a curtain set up in the corner of the green room.

When she emerged, dressed in the dazzling silver jumpsuit, Lando’s eyes widened. “Wow,” he whispered, completely taken aback. “You look… unstoppable.”

She laughed, doing a playful twirl. “It’s all thanks to this incredible team.” She glanced around, gesturing to her crew. “They’re the real magic behind this.”

Next came her vocal warm-ups. She took a deep breath, launching into a series of scales and exercises that resonated through the room, her voice filling the space with strength and control. Lando watched, his admiration clear as he took in how serious she was about every part of her craft.

Just as she wrapped up, Maya, her tour manager, called everyone together for the pre-show team pep talk. “Alright, everyone!” Maya said, her voice commanding attention. “Tonight’s a big show, and you’ve all been incredible every step of the way. Let’s give them everything we’ve got.”

Then Maya looked over at Lando with a smile. “And since we have a special guest with us tonight, I think it’s only fitting that Lando join us in our pre-show huddle.”

The team all cheered, pulling Lando in as they formed a tight circle, each person’s hand stacked one on top of the other. Y/N beamed, looking around at her crew and at Lando beside her. She placed her hand on top of the pile, then reached for his, giving it a quick, reassuring squeeze before laying it over hers.

Maya counted down. “Alright, on three… One, two, three—”

“VENOMOUS!” they all shouted in unison, the energy palpable as they broke the huddle, each person giving Y/N a quick hug or a pat on the back.

Lando, still holding her hand, leaned down and whispered, “You’re going to crush it out there. I’ll be cheering you on the whole time.��

She gave him one last, lingering hug, resting her head against his chest for a moment as she took a deep breath, grounding herself. “Thank you,” she murmured, pulling back to look at him. “Having you here… it’s like a dream.”

He smiled, his voice soft but full of conviction. “Then go make this your best show yet. I’ll be right there watching.”

With one last look, she turned and headed toward the stage, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and calm, knowing that the person she loved was right there, supporting her every step of the way.

As Y/N took the stage, Lando stood just off to the side, peeking out from behind the curtain. She was electric, moving effortlessly through her songs, her voice carrying through the arena. Every now and then, she’d glance over at him, her gaze holding his for a beat before she turned back to the crowd. Halfway through her set, she paused, catching her breath as she gazed out at the sea of fans.

“This next song is dedicated to someone very special,” she said, her eyes finding Lando’s. “He’s my biggest supporter, even from a thousand miles away. Lando, this one’s for you.”

She began to sing, her voice filled with emotion. “When I’m lost, you’re my light / When I’m weak, you’re my fight / In your arms, I find my home…” Her voice cracked slightly, the vulnerability raw and beautiful. The crowd swayed, lights flickering as they held up their phones, the arena transformed into a sea of stars.

Lando felt his throat tighten, overwhelmed with pride and love as he watched her pour herself into every note. She was incredible, and she was his.

After the song, she slipped backstage for a quick outfit change, meeting Lando with a breathless smile. He caught her in his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re killing it out there.”

She grinned, cheeks flushed. “It’s because you’re here. Now wish me luck for round two!”

As she headed back out, the crowd’s chant filled the air: “Y/N! Y/N!” She beamed, waving to them before diving into the second half of her set. She was glowing, her smile never leaving her face as she moved through each song, her voice ringing with joy and strength.

As the final chords of her last song faded, Y/N took a deep breath, the weight of the entire night settling over her. The crowd was on their feet, cheering and chanting her name. She looked out at the sea of faces, a mix of strangers and friends who had supported her from the beginning, and then to Lando, who stood just offstage with the proudest smile. She mouthed a simple “I love you” to him, feeling the tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

Lando mouthed it back, his expression as full of emotion as hers. They were worlds apart in their careers yet so deeply connected, and tonight, it felt like they were in perfect sync.

After taking her final bow, Y/N slipped offstage, still buzzing with adrenaline and joy. Lando was waiting just outside the wings, his arms open, and she practically leaped into them, burying her face in his shoulder as he hugged her tightly.

“You were incredible,” he whispered, his voice full of pride. “Absolutely unstoppable.”

She pulled back, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes and a smile that refused to fade. “Thank you for being here,” she murmured, her fingers tracing his jawline. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

“I think I do,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I saw how you lit up out there. It’s like you were made for this, Y/N.”

Just then, her tour manager, Maya, approached with a smile, holding up a camera. “Alright, lovebirds, the night’s not over yet. We’ve got a bit more to film for the tour documentary. How about we capture this moment?”

Lando laughed, shaking his head but agreeing nonetheless. Y/N nodded, glancing up at him. “Are you okay with being on camera?”

“For you?” He smirked, squeezing her hand. “Anything.”

They both turned to face the camera, Y/N still tucked into his side as they answered a few questions. She was glowing, her happiness evident with every word.

Eric, behind the camera, asked, “Y/N, how does it feel to have him here?”

She looked up at Lando, her smile widening. “It feels… like everything is right. Like all the pieces are here, and I can finally just… breathe. Having him here tonight? It made this show unforgettable.”

Eric then turned the camera on Lando. “And you, Lando? What’s it like being with Y/N on tour?”

Lando chuckled, glancing down at her. “It’s amazing. I mean, I know how talented she is, but seeing her do this live… She’s a whole force of nature. It’s inspiring.” He paused, his eyes softening. “And it just makes me that much more proud to be hers.”

The camera captured the way they looked at each other, a quiet understanding passing between them. As they wrapped up filming, Maya gave them a nod, signaling they were done for the night. The two of them slipped back to her dressing room, the crowd’s fading cheers still echoing in the background.

Once inside, the world seemed to slow down. Y/N kicked off her shoes, sinking onto the couch beside Lando. She leaned against him, closing her eyes for a moment, soaking in the peace after the whirlwind of the night.

“Did you like the dedication?” she asked, her voice a quiet murmur.

He pulled her closer, his lips brushing her temple. “I loved it. Every second of it. You make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world, you know that?”

She looked up, her gaze soft and vulnerable. “I feel the same way, Lando. You… you ground me in all this chaos.”

They stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about everything and nothing as she rested her head on his shoulder. She was exhausted, but with Lando beside her, she felt like she could take on anything. For a while, they forgot about the cameras, the crowd, and the next show. It was just the two of them, in their little bubble of love and calm.

As the night wound down, Lando and Y/N slipped out of the venue hand in hand, making their way toward her tour bus parked under the glow of streetlights. But as they walked, they spotted a small group of fans who’d waited by the barricades, hoping for a last glimpse of her. She paused, giving Lando’s hand a squeeze.

“Want to go say hi?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with that same warm smile he’d fallen in love with.

He nodded, grinning. “Absolutely. Lead the way, superstar.”

When the fans noticed her coming over, their faces lit up with excitement, some gasping in disbelief as she walked right up to them. “Oh my god, Y/N, you were amazing tonight!” one girl exclaimed, her hands shaking as she held up her phone.

Y/N smiled, reaching out to hug her. “Thank you so much for waiting. I’m so glad you could come tonight. It means everything to me.”

One fan shyly looked at Lando, eyes wide. “Um, is it okay if we get a picture with you two together?”

Lando chuckled, pulling Y/N close and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Of course! Just don’t tell her fans that she’s cooler than me.”

Y/N laughed, nudging him playfully. “We both know they already know that.”

As they posed for photos, Y/N took time to chat with each fan, asking them about their favorite parts of the show, taking selfies, and signing whatever they handed her. Lando admired how patient and genuine she was, watching as she made each fan feel seen and special. Her kindness and warmth radiated, making her more than just a singer to them. She was a friend, a confidante, someone who truly cared.

Before they left, one fan whispered to Y/N, “You two are, like, perfect together. You can just tell he loves you.”

Y/N glanced at Lando, her cheeks flushing as he caught her gaze, his eyes soft. “Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think so too.”

They finally said their goodbyes, waving to the fans as they continued toward the tour bus. Once they were out of earshot, Y/N sighed, smiling up at him. “Thank you for stopping with me. I love seeing them happy.”

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “I think it just made me fall for you even more.”

When they reached her tour bus, they climbed aboard, finding a quiet corner at the back where they could just be themselves, free from the spotlight. Y/N curled up beside him, resting her head on his shoulder as they talked late into the night. Every laugh, every shared look, and every quiet moment together felt like a gift.

As the bus rolled on toward the next city, they fell asleep side by side, knowing this night was one they’d remember forever—a perfect memory captured not just on film, but in their hearts.

———————

Behind The Scenes:

Y/N’s voice echoed through the arena as she ran through the first song, a hauntingly beautiful ballad she’d written in the early days of her career. It was raw, personal, and every note seemed to vibrate with emotion. “I wanna run away with you,” she sang, her voice filling the vast, empty seats around her. “Just take me to places I've never known…”

As she moved through the song, she closed her eyes, letting herself fall into the lyrics, unaware that Lando was watching her every move. He was mesmerized, unable to keep his eyes off her. She had this way of pouring herself into every note, and today he could feel it more than ever. Her camera guy, Eric, caught the look on Lando’s face and couldn’t resist nudging him.

“So, Lando,” Eric began, smirking. “What’s it like watching her do her thing up close like this?”

Lando laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s surreal, honestly. I mean, she’s always this amazing, even when we’re just hanging out. But seeing her like this…” He trailed off, his gaze fixed on Y/N as she began to dance, moving with her backup dancers through the intricate steps she’d spent weeks perfecting. “I’m in awe of her. Every time.”

One of the dancers, Zara, overheard him and grinned. “Yeah, we can tell. You look like you’re about to melt every time she so much as glances over here.”

“Can you blame me?” he replied, eyes never leaving Y/N.

Eric chuckled, the camera capturing Lando’s look of pure adoration. “How do you handle being apart when you both have such crazy schedules?”

“It’s hard,” Lando admitted, his gaze softening. “But we make it work. She’s worth it—more than worth it. I’d fly across the world just to see her smile like this.”

Up on stage, Y/N was running through another song—one of her high-energy anthems that had become a fan favorite. As she hit the chorus, she threw her hands in the air, singing, “I said R.I.P. to the fake and the famous/ Kiss goodbye to the shade and the shameless!” Her energy was contagious, and her team couldn’t help but clap and cheer along as she hit the final high note, her voice filling every inch of the space.

Lando felt his chest swell with pride as he watched her. She was so much more than the girl he fell in love with; she was this powerhouse who commanded the stage, who made thousands of people feel understood. Eric leaned in, catching his reaction on film. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

“More than amazing,” Lando said quietly, a soft smile on his face. “She’s… everything.”

As Y/N finished her set, she called down, “How’s it sounding, team?”

Maya, her tour manager, shot her a thumbs-up. “Perfect as always, Y/N!”

Satisfied, Y/N left the stage, unaware of the extra pair of eyes watching her every move. When soundcheck wrapped, her team kept the secret well-guarded, knowing that the surprise was only hours away.

LN4 Taglist: @esserenorris, @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119 , @ilivbullyingjeongin, @ggaslyp1, @icecoldtires, @cmleitora, @cheyennep3107, @d3kstar

F1 Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery, @dhanihamidi, @decafmickey, @cmleitora, @d3kstar, @mellowluka, @ysnhua, @omgsuperstarg, @qxeenjen

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + five

authors note: soooo, i both hate and love this one. can't tell if i'm just being super hard on myself, but it feels flat and a bit boring, but i also know if i keep messing with it, i'll never feel wholly satisfied, so here is the best version i could come up with!

it does include more of roman's background though so....there's that at least lmao

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

cw/tw: sexual harassment, language, violence, ptsd episode (dissociation, avoidance, breakdown), torture

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

masterlist

words: 8k

Solana has come to the realization that training isn’t entirely awful.

Or maybe it’s the fact that along with training, she’s allowed the chance to socialize, to be around other people and learn to not be so nervous all of the time. Naomi is a great person for that, bubbly and naturally personable. She’s created such a welcoming space that has left Solana feeling less and less nervous.

A couple weeks into training, Solana also feels like she’s growing more comfortable in her learning. It’s still the very basics, a lot of focus on flexibility, but it feels good. It feels almost relieving to be able to learn certain skills and tips that she can use to maybe one day defend herself. 

To maybe one day be able to take care of herself.

Or maybe some dreams are just too big to wish for.

It’s the end of her session with Naomi, and Solana is in the women’s locker rooms, having just finished her shower. She’s in her head a bit, mentally going over what she’s going to make Roman for dinner.

He’s been gone more often than not the past couple weeks, and she’s torn on that. On one hand, it’s nice not to be around a man who she’s supposed to be figuring out a way to kill, a man whose presence alone creates an additional layer of anxiety on top of the pre-existing baseline that is her everyday anxiety 

But…..

But, there’s also a part of her that….that wouldn’t be too opposed if he was around more. Being alone in the big house also creates a space of anxiety. If…if he was present more, maybe she could learn how to interact with him.

Could learn him.

It’s this strange thought process that’s so confusing and almost overwhelming for her that it keeps her from noticing the pending danger lurking just steps away.

“Hey, Solana.”

Solana gasps loudly, spinning around, her eyes widening at Austin Theory who stands before her with that same predatory smile. She opens her mouth to scream, but she’s too slow. 

Austin backs her against the lockers and slaps his hand over her mouth. His other hand moves to pin her hands over her hand. Instantly, her heart is beating out her fucking chest, an intense weight of dread anchoring her down. 

Solana feels paralyzed. She is paralyzed. 

“Always so damn jumpy. All we wanna do is get to know you....”

It’s almost perfect timing when another man appears, Grayson. But, it’s when he sees Austin and Solana that he frowns, walking over, “man, what the hell are you doing?”

Austin rolls his eyes, laughing. “Come on, don’t be a little bitch. It’s just a little fun.”

“This isn’t funny, Austin. If Reigns finds out—”

“What the fuck is he gonna do, huh?” Austin scoffs, gaze returning back on Solana who has her eyes clenched shut, tears threatening to spill over. “And you’re not going to say anything to him anyway, are you?” 

Solana gasps, breathing uneven as Austin lowers his hand to tug on the knot of her towel just enough to loosen it but not enough to undo it. Regardless, it’s that one act that truly immobilizes her because she’s no longer standing before this man as a grown woman.

She’s that 12 year old little girl completely unaware of what night of horrors is about to be unleashed on her, the way an unspeakable act of evil perpetrated on an innocent child is going to lead her down a dark, depressing path.

And she’s frozen, frozen in time, forever stuck in that state of suffering. 

Grayson’s eyes fall on Solana, seeing that she’s almost no longer present, dissociating, and that seemingly freaks him out even more. He tugs on Austin’s shoulder. “You had your fun, mate. Let’s fucking go.”

Austin has never been one to listen to others. Ever. But in a testament to his cruelty, Solana’s lack of reaction, lack of struggling and displaying helplessness in front of him wanes the enjoyment. He doesn’t get off as much, doesn’t feel as empowered as he does by making people feel small.

So with a scoff and not an ounce of influence from Grayson in his ear, he releases her, stepping back with a smirk as she instantly moves her arms over her chest. 

“Relax, Mrs. Reigns.” She’s anything but, and it brings a smile to his face. It’s so fucking easy to get her unnerved. “Just messing with ya, that’s all.”

There’s more distant talking, snickering and combatting with someone speaking quietly but urgently. Solana can make out part of that as she gradually returns to a state of awareness. Enough to where she’s eventually cognizant of the fact that they’ve left, that she’s alone, that they no longer pose an immediate threat.

But, they do. They do, because what if they come back?

Chest still tightening, breathing still erratic, Solana rushes over to the door, shaking hands managing to shut it closed and locked. But, it’s not enough to just be alone, to know that no one can come in and try to hurt her. 

Because she still feels it.

Still feels hands on her, restricting her, bounding her, and it makes her sick.

Hand over her mouth, Solana does her best to push back the nausea, rushing over to the showers, turning the knob so that it’s at full strength. 

And heat too.

Shoving the towel off her body, she steps under the scalding water and grabs the soap, immediately scrubbing at her body. It’s unnecessary force, unnecessary heat, unnecessary altogether, but it’s the only thing that gives her a faux sense of comfort. She needs to wash the feeling of them off of her, scrub until her skin starts to look wrinkled and raw, her complexion tinging with redness from the heat of the water.

Eventually, the scrubbing stops feeling like enough. Nothing feels like enough, and she falls back against the wall of the shower, sliding down as she pulls her knees to her chest.

And she cries, the water blending seamlessly with the tears that filter out the drain in a way she wishes the heavy feelings wrecking her body would melt away.

Safe.....

It's a dream that she'll never achieve.

A wasted hope.

A lie.

—-----------

“The RKO proposal is pretty decent.” 

“But not good enough.” Roman’s dismissal is swift and to the point. “I want 75% of all profits.”

Rikishi presses his lips together, calmly reminding, “that’s gonna be a hard sell.” 

“Orton is desperate. He’s an imbecile who uses more products than he moves and is running Bob’s legacy into the ground.” Roman is a man who prides himself on always being on the up and up. He makes it his business to know what’s going on with all competitors and even partnerships. “He should consider my offer fucking mercy. 75% or nothing.”

Rikishi sits back in his chair, a proud smile growing on his face. “I’ve taught you well, Uce”

There’s a modicum of truth to his cousin’s words, but for the most part, Roman has learned more on his own than anything anyone could have ever taught him.

“What’s the status of the imports from Columbia?”

Jey leans forward, answering without pause. “Scheduled to arrive just on time, assuming nothing goes awry.”

“Who’s managing?”

“Tama.”

Roman nods. “It’ll be fine.” His distant cousin, Tama Tonga is a bit on the……eccentric side, but he’s never failed to see a successful shipment through from beginning to end.

“If…..” Paul’s low but firm voice enters the conversation, Roman’s lazy gaze falling on the man. “If I may, my Tribal Chief?” With the nod of approval from the Head of the Table, Paul clears his throat. “By my calculations, there’s a way for us to improve on the total time it currently takes for us to move product by over 40% with some minor….changes.”

Jimmy, who sits almost bored at the other side of the table, feet propped up, asks in a suspicion tone. “What kind of changes?”

Paul clears his throat. “If we were to have access to the Eastern harbor—”

At that, both Jimmy and Jey land eyes on their cousins head counsel. Jey is the first to speak though. “You know that’s Nightmare territory, correct?”

Paul’s voice is surprisingly calm. “I do.” A nervous set of blue eyes settle on the man who sits at the head of the table, the primary one who needs to be convinced of the possible benefits of what he’s about to suggest. “If we would just consider—”

“No.” Roman’s rejection is loud and echoes throughout the conference room. “How could you even fucking suggest that shit?”

“My Tribal Chief, if you could please hear out my—”

Roman’s fist banging against the table sends an alert to all members of this current meeting that the Tribal Chief word is final and unchanging. “I said…..no.” 

Rikishi shakes his head, thankful that a stern rejection is the extent of his cousin’s reaction. He can’t believe Paul could even be stupid enough to even suggest such a thing to Roman. Perhaps he could be swayed over to see the business and financial benefits, but Roman…..no, that history runs too deep and bleeds too much red for Roman Reigns to ever consider some sort of ceasefire or let alone alliance with The Nightmare Factory. 

“Well, that shit got awkward real fast,” Jey mutters, uncomfortable with the sudden shift in the atmosphere. Even if it makes all the sense in the world. “How about that marriage life?

Roman shuts his eyes. It’s jumping from one annoying topic to another. “What?”

“Man, Big Dog living good over there,” Jimmy’s smile is wide as he rubs his hands together. “Lil Soso can cook her ass off!”

“Stop calling her that.”

“Speaking of ass, she pregnant yet?”

This is why Roman didn’t want to get on this subject, because he knew where it would lead to, another road he’s not trying to go down right now.

Rikishi chimes in, “their delivery is trash, but the question is still fair. Is there a chance she’s pregnant?” A sly smile falls on his face as he teases, “I know you well enough, Uce, that I don’t need to remind you of the importance of trying.”

Jey snorts. “That ain’t never been a problem for any of us. Especially Roman. Man, I still don’t know how you don’t have a gaggle of lil mean mugging ass kids running around here.”

The answer is simple, and Roman expresses as such. “Because I know how to fucking use a condom unlike you idiots.”

“Hey. I don’t know what you talking about. All my kids by Nicki.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing.”

At that, Jey jumps out the chair, Jimmy rolling his eyes as Paul shakes his head and sighs heavily. “Ayo, you the Tribal Chief and everything, but you not gon’ keep disrespecting my wife like that, aight?”

“Where did you sleep last night, Jey?” Roman’s tone is both bored and knowing, especially as Jey’s gaze drops the same way his ass does right back in his seat. “That’s what I thought.”

“Just…” Rikishi’s voice is louder, allowing him to realign the conversation. “Keep us updated, Roman. When she does get pregnant, you’ll need to up her security.”

“I’m aware.” Just like he’s aware of the fact that unless this girl is the virgin fucking Mary and will have an immaculate conception, there’s no need to worry about that right now.

Or ever. 

His business phone lighting up with a familiar name across the screen is both a welcomed surprise as well as distraction for Roman. Without hesitation, he answers, watching the TV anchored on the wall light up.

Roman’s shoulder straightens as he leans back further into the soft Italian leather of his chair. “Dwayne.”

“Roman.” Dwayne removes the stereotypical dark glasses Roman always grew accustomed to seeing his cousin wear in any interaction. His smile beams. “Long time no fucking see, cousin.”

Roman shrugs, answering honestly, “been busy.” 

“I saw that. Congratulations on the marriage. An invite would have been fucking nice.”

At that, Roman chuckles, calling out his bluff. “Like you would have come.”

Dwayne’s laughter echoes through the office. “Fair.” He then greets the rest of the men present, though it’s a surprise to no one that his initial exchange is solely with Roman. They’ve always had a great bond, even better business partnership, hence the position Roman has placed him in. “You know why I’m calling though”

And there goes the ‘fun’ while it lasted. Straight into business with his big cousin. He respects it immensely though. Dwayne is all about profit and efficiency and ensuring the smoothness of operations. “The same reason you always reach out, cause it’s not that often.”

“It’s been a couple years, cousin….”

“I’m aware.” 

And he is. 

6 years, to be precise. 

“You need to fly out here.” Dwayne isn’t saying anything Roman doesn’t already know, hasn’t already heard. “They need to see your face.”

“They have you.”

Dwayne snorts. “They hate me almost as much as they hate you.” They being that other side of Roman’s family, the side that he could go on with the rest of his life without seeing or speaking to. The side that probably feels the same about him and his Tribal tattoos, long hair, and skin that is not like theirs. 

Yeah….hate is definitely the right word.

“Do you care?”

“Hell no.” The answer is surprising, unlike Dwayne’s next statement. “But, I do care when shit starts to get more openly disrespectful.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re becoming bolder with questioning your leadership. Less subtle. More direct.”

At that, Roman’s attention is fully captured. He sits up in his seat. “Is that so?”

The twins, Rikishi, and Paul all exchange knowing glances, having been wisely quiet to allow the Head of the Table to conduct business as he sees fit. But this, they all know where this is going.

“Maybe it is time I remind them who the fuck is in charge here.” As much as Roman loathes the idea of having to be around and interact with these fuckers, nothing vexes him more than having his authority challenged. 

Like he’s not the one, the two, and the three they’ve been looking for. 

“I’ll see about flying out within the next week.” 

Jey speaks up for the first time. “I can’t just leave on that short notice—”

“Did I say I needed you to come with me?” It’s a bit of a rhetorical question. “I can handle this on my own.”

As is his preference with most things, because in Roman’s opinion, most things are handled better and in the way that most pleases him when he does it himself. His expectations can only be set and maintained or exceeded by him.

“At least take Paul with you, Uce.” Rikishi suggests, and in the moment, it’s last thing he wants. Paul’s already pissed him off enough for the day. “They need to be straightened out, not taken out. Paul can help you keep that balance.”

Roman isn’t obstinate enough to disagree with that. Paul does have his uses, one of which being his ability to talk Roman down when the preference is to just kill motherfuckers the second he deems them annoying. 

And that’s not the goal for this trip.

Not yet, anyway.

“Fine. Wise Man and I will go.” There are far too many other things on Roman’s plate for him to push back on a plus one. This is immaterial to the larger picture. “Dwayne, start the preparations.”

“You got it, brotha’. I’ll keep in touch.” 

The screen goes dark as Dwayne ends the call. Roman reclines back in his chair, a mixture of muddy, dark, bleak emotions. The idea of having to be around his maternal family is quite literally sickening to him. He hates those sons of bitches almost as much as they hate and despise him.

But on another hand, the idea of getting away from all this, from this Solana dilemma, there could be some benefits. He’d be gone for a couple of weeks, perhaps even a month. Maybe in that space he’ll come back to a different kind of woman. A woman who knows how to fucking stand up for herself instead of being so scared all the time.

And as if reading his cousin’s mind, Jimmy breaks the silence, asking, “Ayo, Roman, you sure you should be leaving—”

A knock on the door seems to only exacerbate the tension as Roman snaps. “What?”

Alicia, his secretary, easy on the eyes and effective in what she does, opens the door just enough to stick her head through. “I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Reigns—”

“So why are you?” It’s well known that Roman is a man who hates interruptions, especially when he’s in the middle of a briefing meeting, and she knows this well. Might be time for a new secretary.

Alicia swallows and calmly explains, “your cousin, Nia, is on line one. She says she needs to speak to you immediately.”

“She can wait.”

“With….all due respect, sir, it sounds like an emergency. She’s been blowing up the lines all morning.”

Curious, Roman turns his personal phone over and sees his lock screen littered with missed calls, texts, and a voicemail all from one person. 

Nia. 

With a heavy sigh, Roman dismisses Alicia. “I’ll handle it.”

Quietly, she closes the door and he unlocks his phone to return the call. Nia never makes such an effort to get in contact with him. Some shit must have went down, though his mind still wonders what level of bullshit could have occurred that even she can’t handle. 

Phone laid on the table, he dials and places it on speaker.

“It’s about fucking time, you asshole!” Her introduction is unsurprising. “I’ve been trying to call you for almost an hour.”

Roman is already tempted to hang up the phone and block her until further notice. “What do you want, Nia?”

“You need to get down here now.” He’s still not hearing anything that would warrant him moving an inch. “Your fucking Princess Peach wife—”

But at that, Roman’s interest is piqued. He sits forward in his chair. “What about her?” 

“I don’t know, she had a mental breakdown or something and has locked herself in the locker rooms. We can’t get her to come out—”

Right away, Roman gets to blaming and accusing. “What the fuck did you do to her?” Nia can’t respond before he asks the next important question. “Where the fuck was Solo!”

“I didn’t do anything, Roman! And Solo can’t be with her in the fucking women’s locker room!” Nia’s defense is as sharp as his imputation. “I told you that girl isn’t made for this life. She’s a fucking problem! Come get her now, or I’m going to blow the damn doors off myself.”

Highly vexed with Nia’s smart ass mouth as well as the nature of the situation, Roman slams his finger on the end button and stands up from his chair, rolling his shoulders. “Fucking hell.”

Jey, just as confused as everyone else, decides to be the sacrificial lamb, asking, “Roman, what was that—”

“You two come with me. Wise Man. Rikishi. Finish and send out the response to Orton’s proposal.” Roman issues out indisputable commands as he marches out of the room, the twins not hesitating to hop up and follow suit. Confused or not, they know better than to question their cousin when he’s in one of these moods.

They don’t even say anything for the beginning portion of the ride to the Warehouse, a rarity for them considering they always have something to say. But this time, they wait for Roman to break the silence, and he eventually does, still just as angry. 

“I don’t have time to be dealing with this shit!” To say Roman is pissed would be an understatement. He’s livid. For a lot of different reasons, really, maybe even mostly at the fact that his head counsel had the unmitigated gall to even utter Rhodes name around him.

Roman would see the entire empire go up in smoke and flames before he’d ever agree to any sort of alliance with that son of a bitch.

That only adds on top of the fact that the Italian faction of his empire seems to be questioning his ability to lead, as if the data doesn’t clearly support that business has never been better. The cash flow is endless. Numbers don’t lie.

But, Roman knows the real reason for their insubordination. 

It’s because of his father, the Samoan blood that runs through his veins. His being afakasi. Mixed. They believe that following that night, the alliance between the Bloodline and the Guild, an alliance sealed by the marriage of his father and mother, should have been dissolved. That someone from his mother’s side, a full blooded Italian, should sit on that metaphorical throne.

But, that’s not the case.

Roman assumed power because it is his by birthright, and he’ll be damned if he lets some ignorant fucks try to take it from him.

So yes….there are a lot of different reasons for his anger.

But, it’s a lot easier to blame it on the reason he’s in an SUV now, heading to a place he didn’t even plan to attend today.

“I’m not going to keep dealing with this shit with her.” He’s not even entirely sure who he’s speaking to at this point, or if he’s directing his statements to anyone in particular. Just needing to vent and get it out.

“What do you mean keep dealing?” Jimmy is the first to pick up on his cousin’s wording. “Something like this happen before?” 

The twins look between each other and then back at Roman who runs his hand over his face, realizing that if there’s anyone he can trust to keep this between them, it’s the twins. Annoying and sometimes dimwitted, they’re notoriously loyal and can sometimes provide sage advice.

“She had a complete meltdown on the wedding night. Panic attack, wouldn’t stop crying.” Roman conveniently leaves out the part of him talking her down from a panic attack. They don’t need to know that. 

No one needs to know that.

“After ya’ll….”

“No.” He answers, honestly. “We didn’t even do it. She was too hysterical.”

“Wait a minute.” It doesn’t surprise Roman that Jimmy is the first to put two and two together. “So you ain’t even fucked her yet? But you said—”

“I know what I said.” He doesn’t need to be reminded of anything. Roman’s memory is long and sharp. “I also know what I do and don’t feel like dealing with right now.”

“Uce, the only reason you even married this girl was so that she could give you an heir. How the hell is that supposed to happen if she won’t even let you touch her?” As much as Roman wants to snap at his cousins, he can’t. He can’t because they’re right. It’s something he’s thought about on and off since the wedding night.

It’s painfully evident to him that Solana’s mental state is….fragile, to stay the least.

He doesn’t need fragility.

He doesn’t do fragility.

The same way he apparently can’t do her.

“Maybe you need to just annul the shit and cut your losses while it’s still early.” Jey suggests, and Roman can’t deny the idea has a level of appeal to it. Until the next part leaves his cousin’s mouth. “Send her back to her family.”

“No.” That’s an easy no. He’s not entirely opposed to the idea of annulment, but what’s not an option is sending her back to that house of horrors. The only way he can see himself doing that is if he’s put a bullet in both her brother and father’s head, which technically, is the plan anyway.

He would just be making some…..timeline adjustments.

“I won’t send her back there. That’s a death wish.”

Maybe set her up with some money and a house. Let her live out her days with her damn writing, reading, and cooking, the only three things she seems capable of doing without fear. But even thinking that, Roman wonders just how capable she is of living on her own.

Xavier kept the girl so damn sheltered. He’d have to keep a security detail on her at all times. Maybe keep Solo with her. She seems to have grown somewhat comfortable with him. 

The same with Naomi.

Or, so he thought. People who are moving in the right direction don’t lock themselves in public fucking locker rooms.

Jimmy also points out, validly, “well, you obviously can’t keep her around if she literally can’t do the one job she has.”

“Let’s not be irrational, alright?” Jey, in a twist of faith, tries to be the voice of reason. “That girl can cook.”

Jimmy’s eyes light up. “Oh shit, I forgot about that.” Sure enough, he switches his tune. “Man, Soso ain’t even that bad, uce. You just gotta be patient with her.”

The change of tune doesn’t surprise Roman, but his suggestion is almost comical. If not for the fact that he’s already in a sour ass mood. “Do I look like a patient man?”

“No, but you do look like a man who could benefit from learning how to be patient,” Jimmy’s rebuff is quick and sharp. “That’s why you and Jey on high blood pressure medication right now. Both ya’ll hotheaded asses be getting yourselves all upset over nothing. Probably why you’re going gray too.”

There may be some element of truth to what he’s saying, but it’s also irrelevant to the issue at hand.

“I’ll figure something out,” he mutters, and it’s the truth, because that’s what Roman does. He figures shit out. 

He always figures shit out.

The SUV is barely parked when Roman flings the door open, slamming it shut behind him, not knowing exactly what he’s about to walk into.

“What happened?” Roman’s demand is accompanied by his powerful stride into the Warehouse, Nia immediately rolling her eyes and pointing to Naomi.

“Ask her. She was the last one to interact with her.”

Naomi is unsurprised by both Nia throwing her under the bus as well as Roman directing his fury in her direction.

“What the fuck happened?”

As someone who’s been involved with the Bloodline and their family members for over a decade, she’s used to both Roman’s anger as well as being on the receiving end of said anger. So, her response is calm and to the point. “Like I told Nia, we trained, and she was fine. She actually did well today. I had another training session after her, so we agreed on the next date, and she left for the locker rooms. That’s it.”

Naomi’s answer is unhelpful, but he believes her. Knows she’s being honest. It’s just that her honesty doesn’t do shit for him.

“Clear the place.” It’s directed to Nia even if his focus is still on Naomi.

Nia steps forward, irritation undeniable. “Roman, seriously? We have matches lined up—”

“I don’t care. I want it cleared now, Nia.” She’s about to protest again, but he lifts his hand, warning, “I’m not in the mood, so don’t fucking test me.” 

Nia isn’t stupid. She might be able to teeter the lines some days with her cousin, but this clearly isn’t one of those days. Grumbled protests stay within the confines of her inner dialogue as she turns on the edge of her heel to start emptying the Warehouse.

The twins step forward, asking, “what you need us to do?”

Nothing. He doesn’t want anyone to do anything aside from leaving him the hell alone, but that’s not an option. So, he moves quick to find a task for them. Naomi as well. “Check the cameras. Something happened, and I want to know what.”

“What if—”

“Check the cameras.” At this point, Roman’s about to kick them all out if people keep questioning him like he isn’t the fucking Tribal Chief. 

Control has always been a big thing for Roman.

When one doesn’t have much, or any, as a child, they overcompensate, and then some, as an adult.

He recognizes that fully. 

As all parties move to follow through on his orders, Roman heads toward the locker rooms, ignoring the complaining of the gym goers having to prematurely leave against their own volition. He’s not focused on that, just on the panel near the doors, a panel he’s never had to use until this day.

A panel only he can operate and use as its his biometrics and only his. Again, a man who likes control.

It takes less than a minute for him to gain access, the door automatically opening. Roman steps in and closes it behind him. 

“Solana.” He’s certain she won’t answer him, won’t magically do a 180 and feel well enough to step out, but he does feel like at least making his presence known to her will minimize her fear and surprise. 

Because one of the first things he notices and hones in on is sound, listening for any and all sounds that could lead him in her direction, and it’s a bit on the easy side considering there’s only the sound of running water coming from one area. And if he had to guess, one specific shower stall. 

Carefully, his steps take him from one end of the room to the other, moving in the direction of the woman he needs to find.

And he does find her. 

He finds her sitting on the floor of the shower, naked, enclosed in the corner, her legs pulled up to her chest, staring like she’s in a state of shock, like she’s not aware of where she is or what she’s doing. Like she’s not aware of the heat of the water bearing down on her body.

“What the hell?” Roman’s first reaction is a modicum of shock, the heat from the steam alone almost instantly suffocating him. Naturally, he moves toward her, to cut it off, but her scream of terror stops him prematurely. 

“No!” It’s been a while since Roman has heard that level and depth of fear in someone’s voice, in the hefty depth of their sorrow. She’s petrified. “P–please don’t.”

It’s for that he actually hesitates, doing his best not to shout at her because that’s clearly the last thing she needs. “Solana, I’m not gonna fucking touch you, but you’re burning yourself!”

While he does his best to keep his eyes focused on non–inappropriate areas, he can already see the reddening of her arms and back. If she already hasn’t burned herself.

Again, he tries to reason with her, which is such a strange experience. Roman doesn’t negotiate with people. He does whatever the fuck he wants and cuts down anyone who has something to say about it. But this, this is a completely different experience he’s not entirely sure he knows how to navigate in a way that won’t fuck this girl up even more than she already is. 

“I’m just going to shut the water off.” Announcing his intentions seems like the next best thing, even if it seems to do little to calm her. So, he bites the bullet and moves fast enough to where she can’t protest until it’s already done.

Which is exactly what happens. 

“No! I—I need—I need to get clean. I need—” She starts crying again, hugging her legs closer to her body. “I can still feel—their hands—”

“Did someone touch you?” Interrupting her isn’t a good idea, especially with the way anger naturally floats into his tone. It’s almost impossible for it not to. If someone fucking touched her….“ Solana….what happened?”

She gasps, shaking her head, pleading almost. “Please….please don’t m–make me t–t–talk about it.”

There’s a distant look in her eyes, one that’s both uncomfortably but extremely familiar to Roman. He knows what it looks like for someone to be physically present but mentally elsewhere. That’s what Solana is right now. 

She’s not talking about today but something else, something much darker that whatever happened today only triggered. 

Roman slowly starts to crouch down in front of her but she jerks back. “I’m not going to touch you, Solana,” he again reiterates. “But you can’t stay in here.” He starts to remove his jacket, reaching it over to her. “We have to go back to the house.”

Again, she’s panicking, protesting. “I can’t—I can’t go out t–t–there.”

“I had the place cleared,” he explains. “There’s no one out there except for the twins, Naomi, and Nia.” Truthfully, he’s starting to wonder if he should have asked them to leave too. He didn’t know she'd be this frazzled. 

“Come on," he encourages.

Eventually, she accepts his jacket, and Roman stands back up to his full height, turning around and allowing her the privacy he’s sure she’d want. She steps forward, Roman seeing she’s hugging herself keeping his jacket covering her body. 

She keeps her head down, obviously still shaken up, still messed up from a lot of things. He honestly doesn’t know where the trauma stops and ends with this girl.

Roman directs her. “Get dressed. Meet me outside.” He looks down at her, needing some level of acknowledgement. “Okay?”

Solana surprises him by glancing up, nodding softly, walking away to what he would guess is the locker where her clothes are. 

Pleased that she’s at least well enough to be left alone to follow through on a simple task, Roman exits the locker room. He approaches the desk, the twins immediately standing up. It’s not lost upon him that Naomi and Nia are nowhere to be seen. If he had to guess, Jimmy sent Naomi home, not wanting her to bear anymore of Roman’s wrath. And Nia left to avoid unleashing her wrath on Roman, neither of which he’s entirely upset about. 

He has no interest in seeing either of them right now.

Jimmy speaks first. “We found something.”

“Send it to me.” Roman is smart. Always has been. It’s not difficult for him to connect the dots to see that someone clearly fucked with Solana. And he’s almost certain whatever footage the twins found will confirm and show exactly how she was fucked with. The same way he’s entirely certain that managing his anger seeing as such is damn near if not wholly impossible.

And she doesn’t need that right now. She’s already a hot mess. Being exposed to his explosive temper will only exacerbate that, so being sent the footage for him to view when he’s alone and can respond as violently as he wants is the best route.

Especially with his next order.

“Whoever it is, bring em’ to Asylum.” He adds, as if it needs to be specified. “Tonight.” 

Jey nods, and Roman notices there’s an edge to his voice. The same way there’s an edge in Jimmy’s expression. They seem pissed. “You got it.” And for some reason, Roman has a burning guess that it has to do with whatever they found rather than it being directed toward him. 

Waiting for Solana to exit the locker rooms, Roman blows out a deep breath and scratches his beard. This day has been a shitshow for a variety of reasons, but this reason in particular, this thing with Solana, it ranks pretty high up there.

He hasn’t a clue what he’s doing to do with this girl. 

“Jimmy.”

“Whassup?”

“Text Paul. Tell him I want Solana’s medical records. All of them.”

Roman knows now he needs answers, specific answers regarding exactly what he’s dealing with. And Solana is clearly in no position to share these things with him, not that he’d even want her to. 

She’d probably have to be admitted somewhere if he tried that shit. 

Jimmy looks understandably confused but affirms, “I gotchu.”

And with that, Roman also pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contacts, selecting the thread and typing out a message he doesn’t really think twice about.

Roman: Dwayne. Change of plans. I’ll come when I can, but now’s not a good time. I have shit here I need to handle first.

Roman: In the meantime, take my name out their fucking mouths. 

————

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

And just like that, Solana knows that he knows what happened. Knows about Austin and Grayson.

And it turns her stomach. 

Roman took her back to the house. He left her alone, giving her time and space to come down from her breakdown. And even in sitting in her room, writing out her feelings about the day's events, she knew. Solana knew that it wasn’t that simple. That Roman wouldn’t just leave what happened today at that.

That he’d want to know what happened, what triggered it, but naively, she tried to convince herself he’s too busy of a man to deep dive and find out on his own. To push her for answers. 

She’s wrong.

She’s wrong because that’s the first thing to leave his mouth when he finds her in the kitchen. 

Roman’s question, however, is valid and understandable, even if just the thought alone of having this conversation makes Solana physically uncomfortable.

Still, given everything that’s happened today, she can’t blame him for wanting answers.

She just doesn’t have them to give.

Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I—I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” His tone is full of mockery and frustration that she also can’t blame him for but physically finds herself feeling unsettled. “Bullshit. I want an answer, Solana.”

Her skin feels hot, stomach starting to knot. “I just—I don’t—”

“I can’t handle problems you have if you don’t fucking tell me that you have a problem in the first place.”

“I’m sorry—”

At that, Roman snaps, unintentionally, but also a build-up from all of the day’s events. “Stop fucking apologizing!”

What he doesn’t expect is for her to jump back away from him, so much so that she falls to the floor and hurriedly moves back against the cabinet, as she shouts in a panic, “I’m sorry!” Her arms are crossed in front of her body, a defensive position, like she’s waiting, bracing.

Waiting for him to hit her.

Roman’s been in this position countless times. Standing before people as they begged for mercy, begged for him to not enact his vengeance, to rule out his judgment as judge, juror, and executioner. And it’s always been a thrill for him, a boost to his ego, a reminder of his power.

And not once has he ever felt bad for causing such a reaction.

Not until this moment. 

With slow, careful movements, Roman also moves to the floor, one leg outstretched, the other hiked so his foot is planted on the ground. His arm casually resting on his knee. “Solana….do you remember what I said to you that day at your job?”

She's still waiting for the inevitable, waiting for him to lash out, for him to hit her. But, she’s confused by the fact that instead of him doing so just yet, he's sitting on the floor opposite of her. And somehow, she finds it in her to focus on his question. He said a couple of noteworthy things that day, but somehow, she knows exactly what he’s referring to.

“My…..my clumsiness.” Clumsiness he told her she wouldn’t have to worry about, but she’s been more than worried about it, more waiting for it, expecting it at some point or another. 

“And I meant that shit.” His head is leaned back against the cabinet, and Solana suddenly feels even worse. He seems so stressed out from all of this, from her. “You’re my wife now. I’m not going to let anyone lay a fucking hand on you. Not your dad. Not your brother. Not fucking Theory and Waller.” There’s a bit of a pause as he adds, almost quietly, “and especially not me.” 

Solana is unsure what to make of what he’s saying to her. Not sure how to process and take it at face value. It’s hard for her to digest the fact that one of the most dangerous and violent men in the country wants her to believe that he’d never put his hands on her. That he’s not someone she needs to be scared of. 

And she doesn't understand it, can’t comprehend how he can not be like every other man in her life. “W–why?”

“Cause unlike your piece of shit family, The Bloodline has morals. I’m not a good man, Solana, and I don’t pretend to be. But, I’ve never hit a woman, and I never will.” Roman never pictured himself having to explain to a woman why he has no desire to beat her. Yet, here he fucking is. “Real men don’t do that shit.”

Solana doesn’t know what to say to that, is still not sure what to say to any of it. But then, Roman is speaking again.

“It’s no secret. I have a temper, and that’s not going to change. I’m not going to change. Not for you, not for anyone.” Solana knows this, knows this very well, and understands it just as much. She would never expect him to change his ways, especially for the likes of her. “But, I—I’ll try to be mindful of it around you.” 

That…..throws her for a loop. Why? Why would he do anything for her? What has she done to make him even feel like he should? Except stress him out and cause him unnecessary problems.

Roman continues, asserting, “but, you’ve gotta start fucking telling me shit. I need you to meet me halfway here. I need you to communicate with me. You can’t spend the rest of your life writing what you refuse to say out loud.” 

She licks her lip, a nervous action, replying as best she can, “I’m not—I’m not used to—” She’s not used to people caring about her, caring about her wellbeing, and maybe that’s too strong and too inaccurate to describe what Roman is saying. It’s certainly how it feels though. “I—I’ll try.”

He seems pleased by this, probably not fully satisfied but enough for him to drop the subject. And she appreciates that, and is thankful for it. This day has already been a lot, too much. She’s so fucking tired. 

Roman says nothing else, not that she needs him to, not that he needs to. But, as he stands up, turning to leave, she finds herself asking him, “where—where are you going?”

His answer is simple but ominous. “I told you. No one lays a hand on you.” He grabs his jacket off the sofa, sliding it on as he vows, “I’m gonna make sure everyone understands that shit from here on out.”

—-------

Asylums, historically, have been places of horror. Where the lives of so many end in cruel and undeserved ways. Screams and pleas falling on deaf ears, memories of terror forever etched in the walls and halls of a building that’s only seen suffering.

It’s a fitting name for Roman’s location for interrogation. 

Torture. Because there is no being interrogated by the Tribal Chief. It’s just straight up, unadulterated torture. And truth be told, it’s a bit of a last, or maybe second resort. Killing someone in the moment is much easier, preferred. A shot to the head, a knife across the throat, even the snap of a neck. All much easier than methodical, drawn out ending of lives.

But some instances, some circumstances call for something more, something sinister, something lasting.

And that’s exactly what Theory and Waller are going to get.

By the time Roman walks into the building, sliding and tossing his jacket to the side, the twins have done a decent job roughing them up. One of them—he could never tell the difference—nor did he care or will it matter in a few hours, has a black eye that’s swollen shut. The other’s nose is crooked and bleeding, most likely broken. Their clothes are already stained with sweat, blood, and dirt. 

They’re both tied down by their wrists and ankles that he can see have started to dig into their skin. Their chairs are situated opposite each other. Good. That’ll make this even better. Calmly, Roman walks over, snapping his finger as Jimmy and Jey step back, visibly pleased with their warm up. 

He crouches down between them, looking back and forth between both with a smirk. “Gentleman, I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” One of them, the taller of the two looks scared shitless while the other is glaring with idiotic defiance. Like he clearly thinks he and his friend are going to leave this building alive. 

They’ll leave.

Just in pieces.

“I’m Roman.” His voice is slick ice. “Roman Reigns.” There’s a rush of adrenaline that soars through Roman’s big body seeing the fear flash in both sets of irises. Good. They should be fucking terrified. “But, I do know someone you have met.” His voice goes cold again. “My wife.”

“Actually, I saw you meet my wife, but you didn’t just meet her, did you?” Roman smiles, shaking his head. “Naw man….ya’ll did a hell of a lot more than that.” 

Roman doesn’t need to have footage of just what happened in that locker room. He can paint the image all on his own, and it’s an image that makes his blood go cold. The footage of them in the hallway was damning enough. “You cornered her, didn’t you? You waited until she was alone and vulnerable and you harassed her. You sexually harassed her. My wife.” 

Roman shrugs, looking between the two. “What ya’ll think should happen?” Their mumbled and grumbled voices are incoherent against the gags in their mouths. Laughing quietly, he continues, “now, now, I’m a fair Tribal Chief.” Roman stands up, walking over to the wall of tools and weapons laid out. He settles for the hunting knife. “So here’s what I’m gonna do, I’m gonna let you tell me which body part goes first.”

He motions for the twins to remove their gags and upon that removal, the defiant punk is the first to speak, “what the fuck is wrong with you!”

The other one, however, is damn near in tears. “Pl—please. We–we’re sorry.”

“Shut up, Grayson! He–he’s bluffing.” Theory, he thinks, decides to prolong his torture even longer by reiterateing, “we didn’t even fucking touch her. The bitch is ly—”

Roman sees red, again, most likely a buildup of the day's events. But, it’s pure rage that fills him as he slams the Buck 119 down against Theory’s left hand, cleanly slicing off four of his fingers. 

Theory’s screams fill the room as the twins chuckle, Jey taunting, “who’s the bitch now, huh?”

Roman grabs his chin, vowing, “I’m gonna make you suffer the longest.”

“We didn’t hurt her, I swear.” Grayson is now crying, clearly ready to beg, plead, and whatever else it takes to get him out of this hell. “Austin just—he had her up against the locker, he–he pinned her, but we didn’t rape her. I swear!”

Grayson unintentionally paints a picture in Roman’s head of what he already figured is what happened, what he figured is what sent Solana into her traumatized state.

Big mistake.

Roman brings the knife down on both of Grayson’s thighs, intentionally aiming for near the top of his knees, his quadriceps, effectively rendering him permanently paralyzed. His screams of pain are music to Roman’s ears. Roman grabs him by his jaw, screaming, “who the fuck do you think you are! She’s mine! You hurt her and think I’m not gon break every bone in your fucking body? You don’t ever fuckin touch what’s mine! You understand me!”

The younger man is practically hysterical at this point. “Please….” Roman looks down, hit with the stench of urine, seeing that the one with the accent has pissed himself. Disgusted, he backs away, hitting the pathetic son of a bitch with a blow across his cheek that sends teeth flying out his mouth.

He turns back around, eyes focused on a now teary eyed Theory. “I was going to be fair, let you decide in which order I dismember you, but now…now I’m just gonna make you watch as I kill you both, piece by fucking piece."

He looks over at his cousins who seem completely unaffected and almost indifferent to the gruesome scene unfolding before them. “Jimmy.” Roman doesn’t hesitate, a sadistic smile on his handsome face. “Give me the saw.”

—------

Blood is such a pain in the ass to get out of almost everything. 

Roman showered a good twenty minutes before leaving the Asylum, and he can still see specks of dried blood, or maybe it’s bone, or flesh. 

There’s a sense of satisfaction that fills him though, that almost calms him as he imagines the look of pure terror and fright on their faces as he methodically took their lives, piece by piece. Well fucking deserved in Roman’s opinion.

And he’d do it all over again if he could.

Minus the blood and guts and shit, because that's just fucking annoying. Roman readies to take another shower, hitting the light switch near his bedroom door when he immediately notices the brown journal sitting in the middle of the bed.

There’s a second to pause and another second for him to realize he’s seen a similar book before. Solana. He’s seen her writing in one very close to the one on his bed. 

Less apprehensive, Roman walks over to see it’s open to a page filled with neat writing he knows must belong to Solana.

Lifting it, he reads what she’s written.

Roman,

I know you don’t want me saying sorry anymore, and I know you want me to talk to you, but it’s really hard for me. I’m not used to this. I don’t know how to talk to you. 

And I know you said I can’t write, but writing has always been the only way I can express myself, so I will try to talk to you more, but….until then, can I just write?

Solana

Right off the bat, Roman’s first and initial response is no.

Because why the fuck would he write like something out of a damn movie when she could just fucking talk to him?

But, that’s the thing, that’s exactly what she’s trying to express to him, that she can’t, that it’s too hard for her. Right now, at least. Because there’s also a promise, a promise to try to transition to more verbal communication, Roman’s preference.

Granted, he hates talking to most people in general, but it’s preferred over writing damn letters like the 1700s.

And then he thinks about it, recalling earlier today and the pure terror in her voice, the fear wracking her body so much so that she didn’t even realize she was this close to third degree burns. He has to be realistic here, realistic about what she is and isn’t capable of.

As frustratingly slow as it is, she is trying, in her own way. He can’t fault her for that.

Regardless of how he feels about it, this is the best she can do. For now. And he’ll hold her to working towards that, because growth doesn’t happen in comfort zones. She has to get used to being uncomfortable with new things. That’s just how it is.

But this….he can meet her halfway.

Grabbing a pen out his nightstand, Roman writes out his response, taking and laying it out on the kitchen island for her to see first thing in the morning.

Solana,

I recognize communication is challenging for you. If this is what works for you, I’ll do it. For now.

Do you work this weekend? If so, call off. 

I’m taking you somewhere.

Also, there's nothing you can't tell me.

I promise you that.

Roman

[prettymrswright]

you don't even know

pairing: stem•riri ᢉ𐭩 black!fem•reader

background: you and riri have been in a situationship for longer than either of you'd like to admit. when one of you decides that you no longer want to play this game of tug-of-war, it creates a rift in your dynamic. this tension creates distance & avoidance between the two of you--moreso on her end. the 2 of you still attend an non-cancelable trip to Cayman Islands and revisit what led you here in the first place. contains: angsty fluff, dramaaaaa, smut(18+), mary jane, passion, strap!kink, n!pple!play, girl just--filth. taglist: @dejaonline @kisskourt @inmyheadimobsessed @saintwrld @sapphicvqmpires @koffeesfancy @naomis-daydream @euph0ricx0 @icespiceluvr

note: it has been.. forever and a day, hey y'all! been inspired + in the mood to write lately, so this is a cute re-introduction preview <3 there are many more ideas where that came from. writers & readers + ovulation week unite!!!

Walking over to the draped, gliding patio doors, you part the sheer, sangria-red drapes and clip them to their hooks, exposing all morning shadows with the early morning sunlight. You developed a keen morning routine to stabilize your state of mind, but somehow waking up on an island did half the work for you.

You step out onto the balcony, hot cup of ginger tea in hand, taking in the crisp, dawn air, and observe all the beauty around you. You were always swarmed in work, and as much as you loved what you did, it was nice to be away from it for a little bit.

You sat cross-legged on the balcony and placed your tea cup down beside you & took down the perfectly pearled j you rolled for yourself from behind your ear. Nothing paraded through your ear canals but the sound of the lighter flick & the breeze blowing the waters as you drew a long smoke and french inhaled.

As relaxed as you began to get, you were constantly disrupted by the rolling in your stomach, anxiety controlling the functions of your organs.

You & Riana Williams— this back and forth. You'd had enough. I mean, there wasn't anything stopping the two of you from being together. Well-- nothing but your fear. She was perfect. You never met someone who mirrored your energy, who charmed you, who encouraged you as much as she did. The answer seemed more than clear. Yet, any time the conversation of commitment arose, it'd be left fallen onto deaf ears.

You wanted to give her commitment--you wanted to be with her. But you couldn't help to wonder; How does she even know? That this--you-- were what she really wanted? That you'd even be what she expected of a girlfriend? You'd only been close to being in love one time, and when it ended, it almost destroyed you. So you stayed buried in your work. No idle time to have your mind running rampant.

You tried to explain over and over, in each way that you could. To get her to understand you were physically not sure if this was something you could take on. All it sounded like to her was excuses.

And it drew you apart. She started being cold, distant. Your sweet, sweet baby, slipping through your fingers like the sand grains that made up this beach in front of you. Not a smile, not a 'baby', nada. You deserved it. Though, no matter how much she kept guarded, you could see the hurt in her eyes. Not only did you no longer want to drag her along, but the thought of no longer having her in your life made you want to vomit.

You drew another pull, ghosting this time, and closed your eyes. You were here on this beautiful island, and the only thing that inhabited the cabin air was hard, cold tension. All you wanted was to hear her say your name. To kiss you softly. To rest her gentle touch on you--over you. The more you visualized, the more it felt real.

You open your eyes and are met with taps on the shoulder from the small girl, who you perceived to still be in slumber. You shuddered at the almost foreign-feeling contact.

"Hey." She shortly began. "Good morning. We gotta start getting dressed, everybody's heading down to the lobby."

Without awaiting your response or acknowledgement, she turns over her shoulder to go back inside.

You quietly sighed in emotional pain. If you were honest, you weren't up for being around a bunch of other couples today. You wanted to enjoy your trip, but at what cost. Your misery without Ri's normal over-attentiveness stripped all of your enthusiasm. You decided this was the end.

"Hey, can we talk?" You leaned up against the side of the balcony door frame, spliff still in hand, arms and ankles crossed. You actually didn't know how much more of this you could take.

Ri stopped in her tracks and turned around to face you, raising her eyebrows, awaiting whatever circle of a conversation the two of you were getting ready to get into this time.

"Wassup?" She asks, her voice decorated with nonchalance.

You began to fidget, fighting to construct the words to express how you felt. You didn't want to be insensitive to her feelings, but if you held in any more words, you were sure to begin to choke on them.

Her eyes, which were once dull and annoyed, begin to twinkle as she scanned your figure. Your curly ginger fro was wild all over, just how she liked it. Your grey crew-neck WKNDA University sweatshirt, custom cut by you, hung off your shoulder, exposing your golden brown skin and pretty collarbone. Your navy blue, spandex shorts hugged your hips and outlined your frame. And when she got back to your face--God, your gorgeous face-- her knees began to buckle. Your dark brown eyes, sheltered with such long, pretty eyelashes, your perfect, pouty lips, your heart-shaped head.

But seeing all your pretty features orchestrate into expressions of sadness, made her want to curse whoever created boundaries.

She wanted to say fuck it, and fall right back into you. But how could she then be taken seriously? She wanted to feel valued, like you wanted her, without question. She got being scared, but how could your fear precede your love, when she'd gladly risk crashing and burning if it meant she got to love you?

She wanted you to want her, to need her. Without anymore of her personal influence.

"I don't like this," you began.

"Don't like..?" Ri pretended to act clueless, just to really make you say exactly what you meant.

"This!" You move your pointer finger back and forth in-between you two. "This awkwardness, this--emptiness.."

She looks around at something to focus on before settling on the ground. It'd be easier to stand firm in her decisions without looking you in the eye.

"I don't know what to say." She says as a bone-chilling silence follows.

How could this be? You ALWAYS knew what to say.

"Say something," You plead. "Anything."

Her text-tone went off, a text-tone you had never heard before, making you furrow your eyebrows in intrigue. She raised her phone up to her gaze, her phone light highlighting her stern-features. She walked up to you without breaking eye-contact with her phone, taking the spliff out of your hand and drawing a pull. She exhaled the long smoke, sure to blow out of your direction and plainly replied,

"They're waiting downstairs."

She puts the smoke out on the cabin wall before turning to leave and dropping it in the ashtray on the kitchen island counter.

"Who was that, who just texted you?" You began to follow her. You had an idea of who it could be.

"Morgan." She replies, still attempting to leave.

You run past her and block the door.

"Are you serious?" You frantically scan her face, waiting for her to give you the punchline, though you knew it'd never come.

She looked away and your acrylic nailed fingers forced her jaw to turn and face you. She shuddered under the touch, jaw clenching in your hand.

Morgan was someone who’d been hanging around your friend group. A friend of a friend. A friend who’d been getting rather close to Riana, and whereas you don’t normally get jealous easily, you couldn’t help but to notice her holding more and more of her attention.

“Oh is that your girlfriend now?” You asked, semi-joking, semi-serious.

She dropped her head in reaction to a low belly chuckle. “No, she is not my girlfriend. And neither are you.”

Ouch. Fair.

“I know,” you back down, using your best attempts not to be a hypocrite. “You two just seem to be spending an awful amount of time together.”

She stepped closer to you, now backing you up into the wall.

“You gonna do something about it?” She says lowly, teasingly, staring directly through your pupils.

Your entire body heated up, simultaneously as any response you could’ve given froze and melted away in your brain.

Through a smirk, she scoffed. “Thought so. Now if you could excuse me,” She placed her hand on your waist in an attempt to move you out of her pathway, and a low moan involuntarily slipped out of your mouth.

“Baby..” You whined, grabbing her wrist. “Please.”

She borderline-snatched her hand away from you and took 2 swift steps back.

“See– that, why do you do that?” Ri shook her head as if she was trying to shake any lingering thought of you out.

“What am I doing?!” You threw your hands up in defeat, seemingly truly clueless.

“You keep drawing me into you and winding me back up, just so you can tell me you don’t want to be with me–” You cut her off, hoping to put this rumor to bed once and for all.

“I DO want to be with you, I’ve always wanted to be with you–” You step forward enough to replace the space she created.

“So why aren’t we together then, Y/N/N?” She asks, irritation lacing her voice.

Your eyes began quickly to fill up with tears as you felt your frustration and fear begin to rise to the top again.

“I’m just–scared,” You start fidgeting again, eyes shifting around the room.

“Scared of what?!” She threw her hands up, tired of hearing the same thing.

“I just don’t want to hurt you, I love you,” You say sincerely, the shakiness vibrating your vocal chords.

“Look at me, baby!” She 4-finger points to her chest, putting her vulnerability under the spotlight. The young engineer’s eyes begin to water and streak down her pretty, plump cheeks. “I’m already there. Hurting. Burning. For you.”

You knew it was selfish. To demand her attention, her affection, when you yourself told her she was free to do what she pleased. But it was only to let her know that she was not a caged animal and she was not your property. But you couldn’t help but to think you were making a mistake that would very soon–if not already– be irreversible.

Hearing her exclaim her feelings for you so passionately ignited something in you that you’d been avoiding for a long time. It was at that moment you realized that no amount of ‘safety’ would protect your heart from the pain you would experience being without her. If she could endure such ache and still have the space to be warm, gentle, and kind, you could too. After all, that is what you truly wanted.

“And I feel like I’m burning all by myself. I feel like I deserve more than that.” She swiftly wipes her tears and picks her things back up to head out.

You take her things out her hand and slip her opened button-down, down her shoulders.

“Stay,” You plead softly, slightly above a whisper.

“No, Y/N, I can’t keep doing this.” Verbally, she fought, but physically she was crumbling under your touch.

“I want to be with you.” You start.

“Y/N,” She begins, ready to dismiss it.

“I want to be committed to you. Only you. I was being foolish, I know this now.” You admit, chipping away at all walls you may have previously built.

Her glossy eyes looked at you with longing, wanting so badly to believe you.

“I’m burning, too.” Each word you spoke hooked onto the strings of her aching heart. “And I hate that I ever made you feel like I was ever watching from outside the furnace.”

And so she began to fall again. Into you, with no regard for precautionary function, as promised.

“I’m sorry,” You began to sob, and she held you close to her chest, softly hushing your cries.

Keeping one arm wrapped around your torso, she slid her other hand up the back of your head, grabbing a handful of your curly mane and pulling your head back, kissing you soft and deep. You shut your eyes, feeling a wave of relief and fulfillment wash over your body.

Her touch made tears flow more rapidly through your shut eyes. You moaned in each other’s mouth, the two of you yearning for one another’s embrace all the same.

She released her lips from yours, giving you traveling kisses down your neck, and around those collarbones she so-loved to see exposed. Quickly, your aching love began to alchemise into arousal. You wrapped your arms around her neck and without taking her lips off of you, she picks you up and places you around her hips, walking you over to the orange loveseat placed in the common area.

Sitting on the couch, she placed you straddling onto her lap, still attacking your skin with her lips, rolling her tongue all over you. One hand rested above your ass, the other hand wrapping around your neck like a necklace, pulling you in for another, slow, sloppy kiss. Your hips bucked in excitement, your erect nipples poking out of your thick sweatshirt.

She takes heed to the cues your body gives and pulls and slips your top up and over your head, exposing your small, perky breasts. She lets out a shaky breath at the sight of you, as if it was the first time. She took one of your erect nipples into her warm mouth, softly sucking, tugging, nibbling on it. Raising her pointer finger and thumb up to your parted mouth, she lubricates them with your saliva and rolls them around your other nipple.

“Mmm,” A soft moan escaped through your lips, feeling every sensation. She knew your body so well. So intentional with every move.

You held the back of her head as she made figure 8’s with her tongue, moving her with the motion. With a final tug, she popped the small button out of her mouth, a string of saliva connecting it and her lips. She scans your torso/chest one more time before bringing her gaze back up to your face, adorned with pleasure.

“You look so fucking good, ma.” Ri expressed fervently. You smiled brightly, studying her hungry facial expressions, knowing what the two of you had gotten yourselves into.

She reaches down and presses her thumb through the outside of your soaking shorts, which were now clinging to your center.

“Oh,” She breathed out in surprise. “This can’t all be from just now..”

“I missed you.” You confess, leaving a lingering stare into her eyes.

Her gaze softened up, in what felt like a bit of pity as well as guilt. She didn’t regret setting boundaries, but she felt she’d been a bit harsh. She hated being like that with you. It had been hard on her too. She didn’t truly intend to make you suffer.

“I hate fighting. I don’t want to fight anymore,” You told her, feeling the waves of your emotions start to gear back up.

“I know baby, I do too.” And there she went. Your sweetheart. Soft, gentle, sensitive–to you. I’m sorry for being a jerk.”

“You don’t have to apologize, you haven’t done anything wrong,” You assure her.

“I do.” She lays you on the couch and slides your bottoms off, spreading you open, exposing your glistening center. She teases you, kissing down your thighs, all around your labia majora, and minora, softly placing grazing kisses onto your clitoris.

Each kiss she places, you twitch underneath. Gasping at the contact of her lips and your soiled skin. Pinning your thighs back to your chest, she fully opens you up, making room for her to begin her devouring. She tongue kisses your clit, gently tugging at the end of each kiss.

You began to see stars, overwhelmed by bliss. You didn’t even care for head until she got to you. Each mouth movement from her felt like true, bodily worship. And even now, it was all the more intense. She was apologizing.

“Ri,” You drew her name out, back arching off of the soft surface where your body laid.

She moaned in bliss in your center, taking in all your sweet, sticky flavor.

“Yes, baby,” She rose to speak, and back into you she swam in the depths of your overflowing sea.

She was so sweet, so gracious. It drove you insane, how well she could send you into overdrive with her words alone, nevermind touch.

She hungrily rocked her flattened tongue against your soft spot, holding your legs in place still, gold-grandfather ring decorating her right hand, which was currently digging into the skin of your thighs. You gripped the plush couch so tight, your fingernails began to perforate the threads and fabrics. You lifted your head to watch her at work, and the sight of it was entirely too much to bear.

“Ooh, shit,” You cried out, attempting to close your legs, but her grip was far too strong. It was too much, and simultaneously you could not get enough.

“Mm, mm” She hummed, in a no, tone, inside of you. “I’m not finished.”

“I can’t,” You cried. If she went any longer, you’d combust.

“But you taste so good, princess.” She praised you. “Just a little more, please.” She pleaded, making you weak with her tone of eagerness. How could you deny her?

She continued to attack your clit, slyly slipping in two fingers, one of which carried that ring you loved to see her wear.

“Fuck!” Your cries continued as the genius doubled your sensation, slowly massaging your walls with her length. She pumped steadily into you, bringing out more of your liquid with each drawback. Before it could fully slide down your split, it was already into her mouth and flowing down her throat.

“Oh my god,” You breathed out watching the love of your life in all her raw, raunchy filth that you so deeply enjoyed. Grabbing a handful of her crisp, white undershirt, you pull her up to your lips and kiss her, transferring the taste of your pleasure off her lips and onto yours.

She smiled that gorgeous smile, wearing a look of pride, knowing how well of a job she had just done. Pulling away, she grabs her harness out of her bag, placed at the side of the couch, slips it on and tightens it to her hips.

Your eyes widen, with both fear and excitement. This was the one thing the two of you have never done. You were trying to keep sanity in the midst of your denial, and you knew that that would be the thing to end you.

But you were now at the deep end of the pool. And you were no longer concerned about consequences. You wanted the full immersive experience, as her girlfriend.

“Come here,” She instructed you, pulling you onto her lap once again.

You reached behind you and teased your aching hole with her length, slipping it in between your folds before slowly sliding down onto her.

“Mmmm,” You moaned out, feeling your insides become fully occupied, beginning to regret your decision. As usual, she read you immediately.

“You got it, baby.” She affirmed you, putting the battery in your back.

She grabbed a handful of your ass, carrying your weight slowly and sliding you up and down her shaft, adjusting you to her size.

“Ri, it’s so much,” Your eyes began to well up again.

“Look at me,” She demanded. You looked down at her face, decorated with pure passion and lust. “You need me to stop?”

You whimpered out in response, unable to sufficiently respond. She slid you down as far as possible, demanding your focus.

“Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

“No, don’t stop,” You begged. “I need you.” The more you got comfortable, the more you were in control. You began to bounce in her lap, arms extended past both her ears, over the backrest, leaning into her.

Her eyes widened at attention, bottom lip trapped by her top row of teeth, watching you bounce ferociously on her strap.

Watching you beg for her, yearn for her, how she desperately wanted all this time, had her sticking together. Her chest heaved up and down, watching you move, each hair follicle, each droplet of sweat. Hearing you scream, cry, plead for her touch, her attention was sending her straight into overdrive.

At the same time, it infuriated her. Why now? Why did she have to put you through the ringer, bring you to your boiling point, just to then bring you to your knees? Did she take you for a fool? Had you been one?

She bear-hugged you, pinning you, thrusting her hips up into you, knocking your g.

“Oh fuck, Ri, please,” You began your complaining.

“Shut up.” She spat, leaving you whining in defeat.

Each stroke felt personal. Like she was talking through you. Pure emotion— rage even. Frustration. She was frustrated. Fed up with you, and the way you act so clueless, like you had no idea how much of an effect you had on her.

Grinding into each other, you were scratching, pulling, biting, clawing at each other. You couldn’t get close enough. And it was clear Riana was taking her frustrations out on you. And it hurt so good.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” Slowing down your riding, you were back to longing for her forgiveness.

She sent a stinging smack up against your rear. “I don’t want to hear it.”

The more you rode, the more incoherent your responses became. You quickly realize it’d probably be better to stop responding, before you got into more trouble.

Your hands on her chest, she pulls your head back by your hair, still digging into you, her thumb circling your center.

You let it out a sizzling breath, fighting to conceal your noise.

“This what you wanted, right?” She taunted you. “Take it.”

“Uhhhh, Ohhh” Your moans began to stack and fall over each other, and began to cream onto the toy and all over her lap. You started to feel hazy and delirious, high off the fuck she was giving you.

You hoisted yourself up onto your feet and placed your hands on her knees to hold you up, spread open in front of her, riding out the rest of your high.

Caught off guard, low grunts escaped her lips, enticed by the way you turned up.

It was your turn to talk your shit.

“You feel so good inside me, mami, fuck,” The lewd thoughts begin to announce themselves. “I’m yours, I’m all yours.”

“Y/N,” She breathed out, watching you slide so swiftly into her, titties bouncing in a hypnotizing rhythm. “I’m so close. Don’t stop.”

“I can’t stop.” You spoke through grit teeth, purposefully overstimulating yourself. “IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou..”

“Cum with me,” She encourages you, and you oblige.

You arrive at the same time, passionately kissing once again, holding each other in what felt like a slip knot of an embrace. When you finally part, you take each other in, studying each movement, grateful to be back intertwined with one another again.

“You really did miss me, huh?” Riri taunts once again.

You don’t even mind her teasing. Anything to have your sweet baby back. You just softly smiled and replied,

“You don’t even know.”

[empressdede]

The Secretary - 9

Chapter Nine

Previous

Serena had never in her life wanted to strangle three people at once, but Naomi, Jey, and Jimmy were testing her patience.

She was already trying to navigate the fact that she had stopped running from Roman, that she had let herself feel this thing between them—now she had to deal with his messy family rubbing it in her face?

It was too much.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Are we done here?”

Jey smirked. “I mean… we could leave, but this is too much fun.”

Serena exhaled sharply, looking up at Roman. “Can you control your family, sir?”

Roman was grinning, clearly enjoying the hell out of this. “Nah. They do what they want.”

Serena glared. “That’s helpful.”

Naomi smiled sweetly. “You know, I could get them to leave, but…” She trailed off, tapping her chin. “I feel like we deserve one more moment to celebrate the fact that you’re finally letting yourself be happy.”

Serena groaned dramatically, flopping against Roman’s chest while the Usos cheered.

Roman laughed, shaking his head. “Y’all done now?”

Jey held up his hands. “Aight, aight. We’ll let y’all breathe.” He pointed at Serena. “But for real? You good?”

Serena sighed, lifting her head.

And to her surprise… she was good.

For the first time, she wasn’t fighting this. She wasn’t pushing Roman away. She wasn’t convincing herself she was making a mistake.

She was letting herself have this.

She nodded. “Yeah. I think I am.”

Jey’s grin softened just a little. “Good. ‘Cause my Uce don’t play when it comes to you.”

Serena glanced at Roman, who was already looking at her like she was the only person in the room.

Her stomach flipped.

She cleared her throat, looking away. “Y’all can leave now.”

Naomi chuckled, grabbing Jey by the arm. “Come on, boys. Let’s let them be in love in peace.”

Serena gaped. “NAOMI!”

Naomi just winked. “Love you, boo!”

And then, finally, blessedly, they were gone.

Serena exhaled, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I hate all of you.”

Roman chuckled, sliding his arms around her waist. “You don’t.”

Serena sighed, finally looking up at him. “This is insane.”

Roman smirked. “Maybe. But it’s real.”

Serena studied him for a long moment.

This was real.

And for the first time…

She wasn’t scared of that.

She let out a slow breath, her hands resting against his chest. “So, what now?”

Roman tilted his head. “We figure it out. Together.”

Serena exhaled. “Together.”

Roman smiled, pressing a slow kiss to her forehead.

And just like that, she knew—she had never been more sure of anything in her life.

Two weeks later, Serena was finally settling into a rhythm—both in her actual job and whatever this thing with Roman had become.

She and Naomi were in the women’s locker room, chatting while Naomi laced up her boots for her match later that night.

“So,” Naomi smirked, leaning in, “y’all ‘taking it slow’ still?”

Serena rolled her eyes. “Don’t start.”

Naomi laughed. “Girl, I been started. I told you—you’re stuck with me and my nosiness forever.”

Serena sighed dramatically. “I regret becoming friends with you.”

Naomi grinned. “No, you don’t.”

Serena chuckled, shaking her head. “Fine. But to answer your question—yes, we’re still taking it slow.”

Naomi gave her a look. “And how’s that going?”

Serena hesitated.

Because technically, yes, they were taking it slow. They weren’t flaunting anything, weren’t making anything official in front of the entire company.

But behind closed doors?

Roman was Roman.

Attentive. Protective. Intense in ways she definitely wasn’t ready to unpack yet.

Serena exhaled. “It’s… going.”

Naomi smirked knowingly. “Mmm-hmm.”

Before Serena could respond, the door to the locker room swung open, and in walked Charlotte Flair, a smirk already painted across her face.

“Well, well, well,” Charlotte drawled, arms crossed as she leaned against the lockers. “If it isn’t WWE’s new golden girl.”

Serena blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

Charlotte’s smirk deepened. “Oh, come on. You didn’t really think people wouldn’t notice, did you?”

Naomi immediately tensed beside Serena, her eyes narrowing. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

Charlotte ignored Naomi, keeping her gaze locked on Serena. “I mean, it’s interesting how much pull you have around here, considering you’ve only been here a couple months.”

Serena folded her arms. “I got here the same way everyone else did—hard work.”

Charlotte chuckled. “Oh, I don’t doubt that.” She tilted her head. “But I do find it funny how much special treatment you seem to get.”

Serena’s jaw clenched. “I don’t get special treatment.”

Charlotte shrugged. “If you say so. But, you know, people talk.” She smiled innocently. “And they have noticed how close you and Roman have gotten.”

Naomi shot up from her seat. “Girl, you better choose your next words real carefully.”

Charlotte held up her hands in mock surrender. “Relax. I’m just saying—when you’re that close to the top guy, it’s only natural for people to wonder if that’s why you’re still here.”

Serena inhaled sharply, her fingers itching to throw something.

She had worked for this job. She had earned her spot.

But now, because of Roman, people were questioning whether she had actually earned anything at all?

She opened her mouth to snap back, but Naomi beat her to it.

“You know what’s funny?” Naomi said, tilting her head. “You’re always worried about someone else’s business instead of minding your own. Maybe if you focused more on yourself, you wouldn’t have time to be jealous.”

Charlotte’s smirk faltered for just a second.

Serena stepped forward. “Listen, Flair,” she said, her voice steady. “I don’t need to explain myself to you or anyone else. I’m here because I worked my ass off to be here. Roman had nothing to do with that.”

Charlotte’s smirk returned, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“If you say so,” she said smoothly, before turning to walk out.

Naomi scoffed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

When the door shut behind Charlotte, Serena exhaled, rubbing her temples. “I hate people.”

Naomi sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You good?”

Serena hesitated.

Because, honestly? She wasn’t.

She had worked too hard to have her credibility questioned because of who she was dating—even if they hadn’t even gone public yet.

And if Charlotte was saying it out loud… that meant others were already thinking it.

Serena exhaled sharply. “I need to talk to Roman.”

Just a lil something to post this cute Sunday🫢

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[saturnville]

what happens in madrid… [1/2]

pairing: jude bellingham x black oc (naomi sinclair) summary: what happens in madrid… warnings: none. tags: @emjayewrites @cocobutterqwueen @neeville @neewrites @cosmic-parker + anyone else who likes football fics? let me know if you want to be added! an: when I tell you this took me forever…I truly hope you like my delusions put into a fic 🩵 and this gif!!!

part two: …stays in madrid

“Let me take you out. Make your trip one to remember.”

Naomi considered herself a smart woman. University-educated with street smarts that were more profound than a person would assume for her age. She intentionally thought through every scenario; understanding that everything she said, thought, and did came with a consequence.

She didn’t know what it would take to see a six-foot man with caramel skin and chocolate brown eyes approaching her at a local restaurant and boldly attempting to woo her, to let go of all her inhibitions and throw her common sense out the window. She knew him, yes, but she didn’t know him. Hell, he could kill her within the next five minutes.

Did it phase her? No. For once, she let her curiosity outweigh her logical mind and fell victim to his gleaming smile and charming nature. She was on vacation, she tried to reason the best she could. On vacation and being pursued by a fine young man who insisted she have a good time during her stay. So, she pushed her hair over her shoulder and gave him a smile that raised his eyebrows in interest. “Pick me up from here tomorrow.”

-

“Well aren’t you beautiful,” he complimented as she walked toward his vehicle, dark and brooding, much unlike the man he’d presented himself as. His comment had her lips curling upward to a smile. She thanked him, accepted the kiss on her cheek, and tried not to fold when he guided her to the passenger’s seat.

“Thank you,” Naomi replied after some time. “You are dually handsome, sir.” And that was a fact. She appreciated his subtle approach to fashion. Everything he wore was high-end, that was evident, but it wasn’t flashy. His aura and confidence spoke for him. He wore the black button-down and matching short set with an easy confidence. The dark sunglasses over his eyes completed the look, only emphasizing her thoughts.

Jude smiled and proceeded to drive out of the hotel lot. They engaged in small conversation, picking up from where they left off the previous night. They were different but had a lot in common. She, too, was the oldest of two, save she had a sister rather than a brother. Unlike her, her sister didn’t take an interest in football, rather participated in cheerleading and went to university on a cheer scholarship.

“That’s amazing,” Jude commented genuinely. “She graduated right?”

Naomi shook her head. “Not yet; she’s still got time. She’s a first-year, but she’s already planning her graduation trip. She wants to go to England.” His ears perked up and a sly smile crept on his lips. She rolled her eyes playfully but accepted his proposal to share places she should visit whenever her sister went to England.

“You know,” Jude spoke minutes later as he guided her out of the vehicle. She took his extended hand and thanked him, straightening her thigh-length skirt. “I don’t hear Spain as a place for solo travel often. What prompted that?”

Her response was delayed by her infatuation with the sights above her. They were outside of a museum. Not just any museum, but the National Archaeological Museum. She was inwardly awed. He took note of her love for history and art and took her to the museum. She could kiss him right then and there.

“Glad you took my advice and wore comfortable shoes.” They both glanced at her New Balance sneakers that complimented her neutral-toned outfit. She wore a gray cropped top, knee-length distressed shorts, and a white fitted cap to match. “We’ll be out for a while. I know a good lunch place not too far away if you want to go later.”

Naomi smiled. “Looking forward to it.”

-

“Oh, it’s so beautiful!’ Naomi refrained from touching the meticulously handcrafted bust in front of her. Her eyes gleamed with wonder and adoration. She adored museums. They were where art and history kissed and refused to gasp for air. There was nothing like it.

From behind her, Jude nodded slowly, not paying much attention to the busts, but rather her child-like excitement and sun-like glow. He could have cursed himself for doing all of this for a woman he’d met less than 36 hours before, but the feeling deep within him outweighed the logic his brain tried to present him with.

A pretty woman whom he just happened to speak to at dinner had agreed to let him take her around Madrid for vacation. Just as he did, she’d taken such a liking to him that she agreed to spend time with him until she left ten days later. He had ten days to be in her presence and he’d been damned if he let his mind ruin it.

“Yeah,” Jude spoke up after some time, his eyes following her. “Very beautiful.”

-

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naomisinclair such a beautiful city

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adyajalyn girl who took that picture and who’s arm is that

— naomisinclair 🌚

adyajalyn you go out of the country once and start befriending strangers like a dumbass

adyajalyn is he cute though?

— naomisinclair very

judeb pretty

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— naomisinclair judeb thank you boo

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-

“So, do you plan on returning to Madrid in the future?” Jude asked as they walked in a local park, hand in hand. Naomi tilted her head to the sky and swung their hands together. “Or was this a one-time trip?”

“I’ll be back. Especially if I have a reason to return.” She turned her head to meet his eyes, which were already awaiting hers. She saw something within them--excitement, interest, and desire. It made her stomach clench and her face grow warm. “So, hopefully, I will.”

The wheels began to turn in his mind. She’d be gone in ten days. He’d go on break in fourteen days. Would he be insane to try and get to know a woman who was nowhere near Madrid? Maybe. But, who doesn't like a little crazy?

After some time, Jude spoke up, “I’d like to think you will.”

Her eyes twinkled. She said nothing after that but the step she took closer to his body said more words than her mouth could and he accepted it gratefully.

-

“You can come in if you’d like,” Naomi said shyly as they stood outside the door of her hotel. Her fingers fondled her braids as she awaited his response.

Jude’s lips spread in a content smile as he nodded. “I appreciate that. Give me some time to shower and I’ll be back.”

Naomi grinned like a kid in the candy shop. They exchanged their goodbyes and she was left to freshen up and keep her mind occupied as she waited for his arrival.

Shortly after her shower, she got a phone call from Adya, whose face was filled with interest as she immediately asked, “Who is he?”

Naomi chuckled, “Well hello to you, too. And to answer your question, he’s a nice guy I befriended at dinner one day. Just showing me around the city. And before you call me a dumbass, yes I know it was dangerous.”

“As long as you know,” Adya shrugged. She then smiled softly. “Is he treating you nicely at least? Not a total creep?”

Naomi nodded. Jude was more than nice. He was incredibly kind and attentive. The thought of her leaving the following week drove her mad but she tried her best not to ponder on it too much. She’d enjoy the present moment.

“He’s a nice guy. Sucks that I’ll leave, but that’s why I’m just basking in the moment.”

Adya hummed. “If you’d like to make it work, it could be possible. Would take a lot of effort, but it could work if you both wanted it to. I think you might have to build a friendship first, though.” That drew a small laugh from Naomi who agreed wholeheartedly.

Just as she was peeped to respond, his name dropped down from a banner.

Jude

— Hey, pretty girl. I’m outside.

Adya, not blind to Naomi’s sudden grin, hollered and said, “Girl, go talk to that man and call me in the morning.”

“Bye Ady!”

Naomi tossed her phone on the bed and kept off the mattress. She patted her braids, soothed her sweatshirt, wriggled her manicured toes, and strode toward the door, opening it wide.

Jude stood on the other side, a smile on his face as he held up a dark bag. “I come bearing gifts.” Naomi moved out his way and allowed his entry. “This is a nice room.”

“Thank you. The booking company gave me hell so they upgraded me to a suite.” Naomi pointed to his bag and tilted her head to the side. “What do you have there?” She sat on the bed and he joined her.

“Heard through the grapevine you like popcorn, chocolate, and good movies.” Out of the bag came varieties of chocolate, a large bag of popcorn, and his laptop, fully equipped with any streaming service of her choice. “Figured we would watch one or two together.”

Naomi grinned like an idiot for the hundredth time that day. He was so considerate it almost hurt. Without much thought, she said, “I could kiss you right now.”

The way Jude’s eyes widened made her heart quicken but the feeling of his lips on hers shortly after caused it to nearly burst in her chest.

He was such a good kisser, she noted, appreciating how he took control yet was very gentle with her. His hands didn’t roam below her waist and he didn’t try to force his tongue down her throat. It was the perfect blend between respectful and polite and grown and sexy. Just as she liked it.

“I like you,” he whispered some time after they pulled away. Naomi’s eyes softened at his confession. She noted how he tried to catch his breath, how his cheeks were rosy from his body temperature rising, how his lips were slightly swollen and smeared with her lip gloss. He was so beautiful.

“Jude…”

He didn’t let her finish. “I like you and it’s crazy because it’s been less than 48 hours but Naomi, there’s just something about you.” Swoon. “You’ll go back home and I’ll be here, but I want to see what my life could look like with you in it. Give you a reason to come back.”

Naomi laughed lightly. Not because anything he said was funny, but because of the insanity of it all. She’d fallen head first for a man she’d known for two days and blushed at every word he said like his sentences were crafted by Shakespeare.

“I like you too,” she admitted. “And I feel crazy saying that because we’re strangers.”

Jude’s eyebrows raised as he nodded. That was the unfortunate fact, but, “We’ve got a few more days to become more than strangers.”

And that they did.

-

“Jude!” Naomi squealed as he tapped her shoulder, causing her to fall in the pool. She didn’t get the opportunity to wipe the water from her eyes before Jude jumped in beside her. She squealed loudly then giggled when he scooped her into his arms.

“That wasn’t nice,” she said, pouting playfully. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Her manicured fingers combed through the thick curls on his head, an action that made his eyes flutter. “I’m gonna get you back.”

“Is that so?” he asked, fingers caressing her thighs that were locked around his waist. Naomi nodded, eyes dropping to his lips. “Gonna have to get me first.”

Naomi, as flirtatious as ever, only has to bat her eyelashes a few times and brush her lips against his for him to crumble immediately. The perfect way to get him distracted enough to wriggle herself from his grip and dunk his head into the water.

“Oof!”

Her laugh was loud and boisterous, but he enjoyed hearing it all the same. Jude wiped his eyes when he came up from the water and gave her a look. Naomi giggled as she tried to back away, but her movement was restricted by the water.

Once again, she was scooped into his arms. “You play dirty,” he said. “I like it.”

Naomi smiled. The feelings she felt with him were unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Her face always hurt from smiling, she felt giddy whenever he arrived at her door or called her phone. How would she possibly be able to deal with the distance?

-

“I’ve got to go, Jude, or I’ll miss my flight,” Naomi whispered, tugging her hand out of his grasp gently. “I’ve got to go.”

The dreaded day had arrived. Naomi had to go back home and they’d be without each other (physically) until their schedules aligned again. It was something neither of them wanted to think of but like always, time brought reality back to them.

“I don’t want you to go,” the footballer admitted, swinging their hands back and forth. Naomi smiled sadly, using her free hand to caress his face.

“I don’t want to go either, but we’ll call, text, and FaceTime as much as we can, and we’ll figure it out. We can figure it out.”

Jude’s lips parted to respond but her flight being called over the speakers cut him off. He sighed heavily. Naomi bit her lip to pierce her quivering lips. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you,” Jude replied. He pressed a kiss against her lips.“Call me when you land, alright?” Naomi nodded and took her roller bag in her hand and began to walk toward her gate.

“Bye Jude.”

He waved sadly.“I’ll see you soon, Naomi.”

-

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naomisinclair until next time, madrid.

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— alexandraaaaa you knew she got a footballer fr in madrid and didn’t say anything??!

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— naomisinclair can’t wait to see u again

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— judebellingham in due time, love

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saturnville and so it begins!

-

[thebramblewood]

Naomi gets a wake-up call in the form of a very angry phantom child.

Beginning / Previous / Next

Naomi: I have work tomorrow! Why did you drag me out here again?

Micah: Zelmira told me about a local legend, a girl who fell down a well. I think she might be Alice’s last child.

Naomi: Riiiiiight. Your ghost BFF Alice.

You didn’t tell me it was a spooky glowing well. Even better.

Micah: [sighs dramatically] I can’t see anything. The others were easy. Epitaphs on gravestones. A friendly ghost orb. What am I supposed to do with this?

Let’s get out of here. Maybe I can find some old newspaper clippings at the library or something.

Naomi: Uh, Micah? You might want to look behind you.

Micah: Hello… rather horrifying little girl. What’s your name?

Edith: I am Edith. This is my well. One Simoleon for a wish. But will it be dream or nightmare? [sinister smirk] Ask for my mark and the best dream you shall have.

Micah: Ooookay. I was actually more curious about your mother. Tell me, was her name Alice?

Naomi: The world’s biggest temper tantrum coming in three, two…

Edith: MOTHER?!? MOTHER LOVED ME! SHE DID NOT KILL ME!

THE BAD CHILDREN PUSHED ME IN AND I DROWNED! IT WAS A TERRIBLE DEATH. NO ONE EVER FOUND ME AND NOW I AM BOUND TO THIS ACCURSED WELL FOREVER!

Micah: I didn’t even get a chance to ask her about her mark… or the wishes. I think I saw a tarot card at the bottom of that well.

Naomi: Fuck her mark! Let’s go!

-

Micah: I’m sorry, Alice. That’s all I was able to find out. I know it’s not much, but-

Alice: [sobs uncontrollably]

Micah: Oh, you’re disappointed.

Alice: No, my dear. A weight has been lifted! I have shed my final tears! I no longer wallow in this ocean of sorrow. Thank you for finding my children. My Guardian Tree now opens to you.

[punkpandapatrixk]

✨THAT GIRL ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

‘I know everything has its time and you cannot compete with destiny, is what I say. What I thought I wanted when I was younger, it wasn’t my time to have. I wanted to work with Calvin Klein—I did the fashion shows but I never did the ads. So it took me 34 years to do an ad. And, I said, “Okay. It’s okay. That’s my time.”’ – Naomi Campbell

Hey, Gorgeous~♥︎

Why do I get the feeling your fabulous era is coming fast? There’s this thing with Divine Timing, you know. As you work daily on yourself to become a vibrational match to your D E S T I N Y✨ the time will come when the world is ready to witness your S P A R K L E S✨

Your Light is needed by this world, in whatever capacity you feel a resonance with and in whatever fashion you find most exciting! We each have our divine time to be seen and heard. We can’t rush the caterpillar to grow into a butterfly, right? Often, there’s a painstaking process there. So what to do in the meantime? Become THAT GIRL you’ve always known yourself to be🌷

Who are you at the core of your being, Girl? Basically, if you nurture aspects of yourself that feel natural to you, you’ll discover that the key to your Destiny has always been in your hand. You just need to explore your potentials, experiment with yourself, test your limits and expand your horizon until you find the DOOR that’s the right fit for your key🚪🗝️

Live for yourself. Do whatever you wanna do and find yourself in the midst of novelty and temptation. So that you find your UNIQUE strength from within.

All in Divine Timing. Your fabulous era is coming~🦋

SONG: ♥︎Lonely in Gorgeous♥︎ by Tommy february6

SERIES: Paradise Kiss (2005)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – That Happy-Go-Lucky Girl

VIBE: Hot Summer by f(x)

the most UNIQUE thing about you, babe – 8 of Pentacles Rx

ADMIT IT. You loathe the idea of ‘hard work’. Gosh, the world is full of wonders and humanity has found a way to invent boredom and be depressed! You are definitely a Faery Soul. You have a unique, more sensitive point of view which causes the whole notion of ‘hard work’ to get over your head. Why work and not just play? Why is it so impossible for people to embrace lightheartedness and just, BE, happy? You just want to dip yourself in pastel glitter all day long.

For one, you’re definitely a rebel—whatever your style may be. You have so little regard for rules if you’re being honest. If anything, you make your own rules after careful testing and experimentation. That’s what you do with fashion as well. Fashion is fickle, but style is forever. And to you, there can be more than one style that you can call your own. You don’t like to limit yourself when it comes to things you can do, try or wear.

You can be like a chameleon and you love that fluidity/flexibility of yours. But on top of that, you’re also transformative. You’re a highly creative soul who has a penchant for reinventing your personal brand over and over again. You’re the brazen type that can rock ANY style and people still say, ‘That’s totally THAT GIRL’S style no matter what she does/wears!’ You possess a really strong, magnetic, energy signature.

path of least resistance – 8 of Wands Rx

Your aenergy is reminding me of famous rebels of Harajuku. Harajuku is a tiny, tiny, tiny patch of the entire fabric of Japanese society, but the creative souls who dwell there exude such POWERFUL aura. Exactly because they have a rebellious energetic signature that they express rather unapologetically😊

These are the rebels who know they’re meant to carve out a lifestyle of their own in the midst of Japan’s disgusting policy of conformity. The 8 of Wands in reverse here is literally representing the notion of a koi fish that swims upstream to become a dragon… or something like that. This is a Kafkaesque energy! You go the other way, baby—don’t follow the crowd because even they don’t know where they’ll end up!

The more you try to conform and follow what everyone else is doing, the more miserable and unlucky you become! Because doing so is against the policy of your Faery Soul’s authenticity. Whatever line of occupation you are interested in—genuinely interested in—I just know you’re meant to do your ‘job’ playfully, creatively, lightheartedly, passionately, and BEAUTIFULLY. Whatever you do, it’s pointless if you’re not surrounded by BEAUTY.

accept yourself glamorously!♥︎ – King of Swords Rx

Ay ay, don’t use too much logic, babe. You’re magic🧚🏻‍♀️Your intuition is more reliable than your intellect, trust yourself on this one. You possess this peculiar type of intelligence that is fuelled by passion from your heart. That said, your gut instinct is also that much stronger than your capacity for cognitive calculation. Hope that makes sense. You are essentially an otherworldly being. Though you may often feel like you’re a chaotic pile of confusion because of that.

Actually, you have spidey senses that help you notice a lot of things all at once and you don’t always know how to explain that. You just, absorb so much information from visual cues, auditory cues, and other invisible cues you pick up from the collective or aether. There’s always so much going on inside you because of this. But you’re just processing all of that information, so don’t worry, you’re not as chaotic as you think😆This is a SUPERPOWER!

You just need time to learn to accept this superpower and use it to your advantage. Didn’t Peter Parker also go through some hardships in the beginning? Before he knew how to use his new mutant powers? Yeah, something like that. Go do your weird shit and be a maverick. That’s how you become a vibrational match to your SPARKLY DESTINY🌟

ROMANTICISING YOUR FAIRY TALE🔻💗

the Hand of Destiny – Priestess of Enchantment

tick tock tick tock VOILA~♥︎ – Priestess of Divination

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Pile 2 – That NU IT Girl

VIBE: LA chA TA by f(x)

the most UNIQUE thing about you, babe – 10 of Wands Rx

With you, there’s a strong energy of a debutante girl who kinda just popped out of nowhere, springing forth from obscurity. The reality though, is that you worked really hard to grow into this new IT GIRL in town. Your hustle tends to be unseen by others. I’m guessing you have significant placements in the 8th House and 12th House; or those energies ruled by Scorpio/Pluto and Pisces/Neptune.

I think you genuinely like it that way though. Keep ‘em guessing, is your motto. It’s entertaining to you when people can’t figure out how you’re, YOU. Let the mystery of your growth keep ‘em speculating. You love it when people can’t stop talking about you. You don’t even mind the gossip. As long as all attention is on you~ You’ve got the whole world wrapped around your fingers~

You gravitate towards luxury and you love trends. It’s like, following trends is the only way you feel like you still belong to the Human Race. Unless you do so, you feel left out because you’re a real hustler HAHAH You tend to isolate yourself to study and work on building your empire. Though you may seem shallow to those who just know you on a surface level, I think pretending to be normal like this exhausts the living shit out of you.

path of least resistance – IX The Hermit Rx

You’re probably more spiritually attuned than you let out. Especially if you have significant 8th House/Scorpio or 12th House/Pisces qualities to you. Because of this, you tend to be a hermit, enjoying doing your own thing at your pace. Your inner world is more interesting than the outer world full of shallow and stupid people. You can’t stand that their ambitions are so tiny LMAO

However, it does seem like you can sometimes get obsessive with your studies or work. This is giving me that vibe of someone who’s become so comfortable in the darkness they get blinded once the curtains are lifted. You remind me of Sherlock Holmes played by Robert Downey Jr. A smart, calculating, strategizing weirdo who isn’t that great at social settings🤣

Of all the Piles, you seem the least in need of this kind of reading—because you already have a strong sense of self. You seem to me like you have your identity established already. You’re clear about your likes and interests and these aren’t going to change easily. I think this is partly why you can be into trends—all for you to feel like you’re less boring. Hahah I don’t think you’re boring; you’re timeless, babe✨

accept yourself glamorously!♥︎ – 7 of Wands

With your heightened sense of class and timelessness, you could be prone to envy and jealousy, right? You’re essentially someone who’s incredibly blessed, on top of that, you’re hard working. It’s only natural so much good fortune is bestowed upon you. You’re a go-getter. You aren’t afraid to claim your prizes. And I think you should honour and protect this with your life.

Having said that, I still get this feeling that your Higher Self wants you to share your burdens with someone trustworthy. If you could surround yourself with a tiny inner circle of Soul Friends, that’d be more than enough. It’s good to have a few friends you can count on. But if your trust has been broken and your faith wounded, this could take some time to heal, so that’s also understandable.

The most important thing is that you never settle for less in your friendships and even business relationships. You don’t have to ask for much; you just need to ask for what’s true. I have a feeling when you’re older you will be blessed with amazing rendezvous with a bunch of your Soul Family. Until then, enjoy shining on your own terms. You’re IT~

ROMANTICISING YOUR FAIRY TALE🔻🧡

the Hand of Destiny – Priestess of Prosperity

tick tock tick tock VOILA~♥︎ – Priestess of Faith

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Pile 3 – That Transcendent Alien Girl

VIBE: NU ABO by f(x)

the most UNIQUE thing about you, babe – 5 of Pentacles Rx

As per usual, Pile 3 often carries an alien vibe—in this case, almost robotic. You’re futuristic and avantgarde in the way you think, do or say things. With two Major Arcana, I can’t help but mention that you’re likely a Starseed or a Lightworker. Being one usually means you’ve had to face many oppositions in Life to get you all prepped up for your Destiny! What are you gonna do about it? Refuse your tasks and let the whole rotten world kill your Light? Hell nah.

What’s incredibly interesting about you is your morality. You have a super strong sense for justice and you carry yourself with high standards of morality. It’s just…because you’re an alien, what is moral to you might not always agree with the convention. You’re the type of person who notices how justice in this world is totally broken. I’m not even talking about a nation’s justice system—I’m talking about the general sense of what’s right and wrong for reward and punishment.

You’re the type that on the inside could be like Genghis Khan, Joseph Stalin or the Joker and Harley Quinn. You aren’t afraid to blow a damage to someone or a situation that’s been unfair. Your being chaotic, destructive, or simply disruptive as a punishment, is what’s JUST in your book of morality. I’m reminded of the story of the German Revenge Mother, so yeah… That’s real justice because this world’s moral compass looks terribly like a joke to you.

‘I am the punishment of God... If you had not committed great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you.’ – Genghis Khan

path of least resistance – I The Magician Rx

Because your energetic signature is very alien, you’re a born eccentric. No matter what you do, you’re just…abnormal. Different. Depending who sees you, you’re either an inspiration or an eyesore. You can’t help it. You stand out too much. Those who see you as an inspiration though, usually feel so because your example (or your stories) gives them a sense of validation.

You clearly don’t belong; but you’re carefully doing your own thing; carving out your very own existence; establishing your place in the world through sharing and flaunting your unique talents. THAT is incredibly validating for other rebels, eccentrics, and outcasts who are similar in vibe to you. You are a powerful creator—a Magician—whether or not you’re aware of this at present.

Have you ever had this crazy feeling on the inside, that sometimes, you’ve felt like your moods affect the local weather near you? Or maybe you’ve caused electricity to go haywire when your emotions are heightened? Have you felt like your hands sometimes cause batteries to run out faster? Do you get electric shocks a lot even when the thing you’re touching shouldn’t be a natural conductor for electricity? Wood or even plastic?

Bitch, you possess a crazy amount of creator energy in you. Sometimes it leaks as sparks of insanity in the physical realm because that amount of potent energy needs to be moved. Remember: energy can’t be created or destroyed; it can only be moved or transferred. You were born with this insanity because you’re an alien. You’re more than capable of handling it. All of that is just needing you to learn to channel IT properly into passionate pursuits that can benefit Humanity~♥︎

accept yourself glamorously!♥︎ – VI The Lovers

I know you get shy sometimes. Thinking that your dreams and visions are too cringe or too wild, too crazy. But you wouldn’t even be able to perceive those visions if you weren’t capable of manifesting them. So, there’s a reason for that. And more likely than not, you’re meant to see it through that those visions become Reality. As for the cringe part…

Aish, your imaginations just need polishing. They’ll get better as you refine your senses and develop your tastes. Your Reality is bound to be more high-quality eventually LMAO Trust yourself for that! All great artists also started out quite pathetic if you compare their masterpieces to their pre-debut, or even debut, works. The manifestation of your desires is also a form of Art like that.

The more you merge with your Higher Self the more this will make sense. In the meantime, what you’re meant to be focusing on is your Lower and Higher Selves integration. The Human and the Spirit, ah I mean, the Human and the Alien merging as one navigating existence in this Earth Matrix😉

ROMANTICISING YOUR FAIRY TALE🔻💙

the Hand of Destiny – Priestess of Ritual

tick tock tick tock VOILA~♥︎ – Priestess of Beauty

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❁ཻུ۪۪♡ seven wonders

Pairing - shuri x black!fem reader

Word Count - 7.3k

Contains - smut (18+), soft!dom shuri, sub!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, tribbing, edging, choking/breathplay, overstimulation, clit play, shuri is a tease, praise kink, fluff

Divider From - @firefly-graphics

Sneak Peak - “What life took away from me, Bast replaced with you. You, my angel, are my gift.” She places a kiss on your cheek, the salt of your tears lingering on her lips and she allows it because she wants to stay here forever, wants to sulk in everything she’s feeling as a reminder that this is not a dream. She begins crying with you, overwhelmed with the gift that was you, overwhelmed that she had explored the world’s most intricate of beauties and yet you were still the most beautiful to her.

Tags - @inmyheadimobsessed @amplifiedmoan @vampzxi @abenomeiiii @imjusthere2readbruv @desswright29 @heejayy @shurislover @shurismainbxtch @garden-of-venus @tiii-iiiiii @verachii @ihearttish @playhousedistee @somethingcleaverandwhitty @niyahwrites @tishsrealwife @oceean @sookiesookie @myaraines @cafehyunji @6-noir @ventingfanfics @ririslove @marsolgy @shaiwritesss @naomis-daydream @prettymrswright @pocketsizedpanther (comment if you wanna be tagged in future fics, 18+ please)

Song Inspiration - another heartbreak: giveon, pov: ariana grande (readers pov), favorite song: toosii, reflections: dustystaytrue ft. toosii (shuri’s pov)

Writers Note: this fic is me self projecting in both of these characters. I just wanna love and be loved. This fic lowkey kicked my ass, why is writing fluff lowkey hard?? But shuri loves her baby girl so much in this one like whew, I need herrr. Anyways, as always, I hope you all enjoy my lovessss :)

♪ ༘⋆ Tears don’t fall when you’re right here, Perfect for me that’s my fear ♪ ༘⋆ (another heartbreak - giveon)

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ The evening is nothing short of perfect, sitting on a rooftop in Rio de Janeiro while the sun sets in the distance, a perfect image of the panoramic painting you sat in. Vibrant hues surrounded you as you sat in front of a small circular table that came alive with the flickering glow of candle light, a vibrant bouquet of exotic flowers and the fresh aroma of Brazilian cuisine. There were the sweet sounds of Bossa Nova playing in the distance, mixing in with the gentle rhythm of waves that settled in the not too far shore. To complete the picturesque view is what you were in this city for in the first place: the Christ the Redeemer Statue.

It was at this very moment that you found yourself at the final stop of your trip around the world. It was a trip orchestrated by your beloved girlfriend, Shuri, who cherished you deeply and wanted to show you what beauty the world had to offer. You had visited the Seven Wonders, each destination bringing you that much closer to the true joy you deserved. Shuri understood that before her arrival, you did not get out much. Not because you had no desire, not because you didn’t have the funds to, but because you simply had no one to share the world with. Life has presented you with hardships, constructing barriers that made you wary of the genuine splendor life had to offer. It obscured your understanding of what love truly entailed, as your past relationships, be they platonic or romantic, introduced individuals who made you question your self-worth. However, once again, you found yourself on a rooftop, accompanied by your girlfriend who quite literally gave you the world, even within the few fleeting months you two had spent together. Her love for you surpassed any other person you had encountered, and it was precisely all of this that frightened you.

“What’s on your mind, sthandwa sam?” Her voice held a gentle quality, infused with a subtle rasp that made you dizzy. It was flawless. Almost unnaturally flawless.

“Kwenzeka ntoni kula ntloko yakho intle?” (“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”)

Being with Shuri was the most transparent you had ever been. She consistently motivated you to express yourself fully, urging you to share your emotions openly and honestly. She possessed a deep understanding of your thoughts and the fears that were buried in your heart, which often hindered your ability to fully embrace the love she shared with you. Nonetheless, Shuri loved and respected you unconditionally. She yearned to hear your emotional release, offering her unwavering support to catch and discard them, surpassing any previous support you had ever received. She aspired to be there for you, her princess, in ways that no one else had ever been. And this is why it wasn’t terribly challenging to open up to her.

“Shuri, you know what I’m thinking.”

“I know, nkosazana, but I wanna hear you say it. Thetha nam ndimamele.” (“Speak to me and I’ll listen.”)

“Shuri-”

“Please, y/n. Please.”

You observe her, appreciating the exquisite features that decorated her face. She was so beautiful, so full of love in a body that has also been through pain and suffering. Shuri intimately understands the harsh realities of life, having experienced her own share of adversity. That's precisely why she gently encourages you to release the emotions you've kept bottled up. Her intention is never to cause discomfort or obligate you to share your past traumas. Rather, she seeks to help you acknowledge and process the feelings your mind and body are urging you to confront, enabling you to progress forward.

You bask in her warm glance for a few moments longer before you softly exhale, preparing your heart for what’s to come.

“It’s just a lot, Shuri. Not in a bad way. It’s never in a bad way when it comes to you. You’re so perfect, your love is overflowing and shit. It’s just…I’m just…”

“Yitsho.” (Say it.)

You sigh.

“Shuri, I-I just…”

Shuri notices your struggle, the way your voice breaks off and she immediately runs to your side, placing a kiss on your forehead before she lowers herself on one knee in front of you. She takes your hands, running her soft lips against your knuckles and you could cry. You loved her so much and it scared the shit out of you that you knew she deeply loved you too.

“I’m scared, Shuri.”

“Mhmm. Keep going, my love, I’m right here. Let it out.”

“I’m scared that…” Your voice gradually faded with your words becoming entangled in your throat, making it harder to breathe. You took a brief pause, collecting your thoughts so that they could flow effortlessly from your lips. “I’m scared that one day you’re gonna look at me and not love what you see anymore.”

You stopped there, curious as to what kind of response she would give you. But of course, she only encouraged you to proceed.

“You’re doing so good, y/n. Keep going…I know there’s more in that big heart of yours.”

You let out another sigh, not born out of annoyance or frustration, but rather a sigh of relief.

“I’m just worried that one day you’re gonna get tired of me, that I’m going to be…I don’t know…I guess just too much. To be fair, I am kinda a lot to be around…I-I understand that I’m not the easiest person to love, and that I can be a handful…”

You were on the verge of tears, but you didn’t allow them to escape you just yet. “I’m just scared you’re gonna get tired of me and I’m just not sure I can handle that, Shuri.”

“Mmm,” Shuri hummed, not once taking her gaze off yours as she continued to kneel in front of you. She brought your hands in for a kiss, loving lips attaching themselves to your soft, brown skin. She lifts herself up to reach your forehead, placing one last kiss before she speaks.

“You know why I chose you, y/n?”

You shake your head, unable to speak in fear that your emotions might overwhelm you and you did not want to ruin this perfect evening with Shuri more than you already felt you had. Shuri lets out a soft chuckle, her pearly teeth revealed through a crooked grin that placed butterflies in the depths of your stomach.

“It’s actually quite simple, nkosazana. I chose you because I love you. I love everything about you. I love your dimples when you smile, and those beautiful eyes, sthandwa. I love your body, everything about it is perfect. Your stomach, your thighs…what’s in between your thighs-“

“Shuri, you’re just talking about my body--”

“Ssshhh, I’m not done. I love your sense of humor, how you’re always laughing and it makes me laugh. Puts a smile to my face when I have no smile to offer. I love your strength and your capability to love even though the world has not been so kind to you. I love your creativity and how artistic you are, it balances me out because you know I love my science. It's nice to have an artist to level the plane. I love your beautiful dark skin and all its simplicities and complexities. I love how you encourage me to be my best, and you push me to be better, for you but most importantly for myself…”

“Shuri…”

“Wait, sthandwa, I have more to say. When…when I lost my brother, I felt as if the world came crashing down on me…he was my favorite person to be around and when he was gone…there was just…nothing…”

Her voice started to falter, unveiling the enduring pain that Shuri carries within herself each day, concealed by the smile she presents to you. A solitary teardrop escaped from her eye, though she hastily wiped it away. She wasn't prepared to break just yet, and neither were you.

“Shuri, you don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

“I want to…and I need to. And you need to hear it.”

You offer a tender smile, conveying to Shuri that everything would be alright. Shuri breathes in, lightly grazing her lips against your hands before proceeding.

“And then…when my mother died…I just…”

“Shuri-”

“I had no will to live anymore because what was the point? I had no one. Nothing. Until…until you.”

You choked down a sob, one that would undoubtedly have torn through your entire being had you let it fully consume you.

“You reminded me of what it is to be happy, to laugh, like genuinely laugh…haven’t done that since my brother, I almost forgot what it felt like. You showed me that there’s so much more to live for, so much the world has to offer and I wouldn’t have it any other way, nkosazana.”

You offer a subtle nod, tears streaming down your face with an unrestrained flow, and this time you permit it. She was utterly flawless, an exquisite fusion of affection and happiness, seamlessly mending the shattered fragments of your own existence. Her embrace provided solace, her gaze offered a sense of security, and there was no place in the world you'd prefer to be at this very moment, and no one else you'd rather be with.

“Umhle kakhulu, y/n,” ("I love you, y/n”) she says with one last kiss before she stands, gesturing to you to stand as well. She pulls you into her embrace, a hug that engulfs every fiber of your being, immersing you in the warmth emanating from her body and permeating back into yours. She placed a firm kiss onto your forehead before you pressed your face into her chest, allowing gentle tears to cascade down your cheeks and onto the fabric of her shirt. Yet, she doesn't mind. She wanted to catch every single droplet that escaped you and tuck them away so you were no longer burdened by fears that weren’t truly there. She hated that you felt scared, apprehensive about the future and the uncertainties it holds, because she will never abandon you. She needs you just as much as you need her. Perhaps even more so.

She cupped your face in the palm of your hands, looking down at puffy eyes and puffy lips as you sniffled.

“You’re literally so beautiful, y/n,” she promises, pressing a kiss into your nose. “Just pour it out, let yourself feel the things you feel, my love. You have to let it out, y/n. Do you understand me?”

You nod, your lips forming a pout before more tears fell from her words.

“I’m not saying you have to explain things when you don’t feel like it. But what I am saying is I am your partner, your girlfriend and I’m here for you. I love you. And I want you to know that I love you, more than anything or anyone else in the world, and that I need you just as bad.”

If you hadn't been a tearful wreck before, you most certainly were now. Cheeks marked with traces of tears remained within Shuri's grasp as you drew her closer for another kiss.

“That’s it, y/n. Just let it out…I’m right here. Ndizohlala ndilapha.” (I’ll always be right here.”)

“I love you so so much, Shuri,” you promise, your voice broken from the lump in your throat.

“You know what the best part of this trip was, sthandwa sam?”

“Hmmm, what could that be, baby?”

A beautiful smile adorned her face as she lifted you up and twirled you around, dancing on a rooftop while your laughter echoed with genuine delight. She sat down on the chair, bringing you into her lap as you straddled her, holding her like it was your last time.

“We may have just traveled the world and its most exquisite landmarks, but you…you were my favorite part. No building or ancient structure is as beautiful and strong as my girl.”

The smile that graced your face was a sight of pure bliss in Shuri's eyes, as she cherished nothing more than the radiance of your beautiful smile. She buries her face in the nape of your neck, gently pressing her lips against your firm yet sensitive skin.

“Every morning I woke up next to you…every dinner I shared with you…every night I had my way with you…”

With each declaration, her kisses grew more fervent, targeting the places she knew weakened you. You wrapped your arms around her neck, fully embracing how much she rendered you powerless through every movement she made and every word she spoke. She was addicting, all consuming, fogging each and everyone of your senses but your pounding heart was a reminder as to where exactly you were.

“Shuri…we-we’re on a public rooftop,” you stuttered, trembling beneath her passionate kisses as you struggled to contain the pulse that found its way between your thighs.

“No one is coming. I made sure of that,” she replies, her face still sunken into your neck as she begins lifting your dress up to bunch around your waist. The light pulsing between your thighs transitioned to heavy throbbing, as melanated bodies grew more eager to feel one another.

“Let me know if you’re ok, y/n,” Shuri says, wanting to make sure that your head and heart is in the right place to proceed with her intimacy. You were more than ok, because even though your heart was often troubled and your mind was in constant battle, your body was always willing to receive whatever obstacle Shuri would give you.

“I’m ok, Shuri,” you reply desperately, slowly grinding your crotch in her lap. Shuri notices this, wasting no time in cupping your saturated cunt, casually stroking you over the thin lace of your panties. It was torturous, how close yet so far she was from where you needed her.

“Shuri,” you whined, a wounded sound that made Shuri smile.

“That’s it, sthandwa. Yilangazelele.” (That’s it, baby. Be desperate for it.”)

“Mmmm,” you moaned as she carefully pulled the fabric to the side, gliding her fingers through your folds, grazing your pulsing clit and it made you frantic. “Sh-Shuri.”

Her strokes came to a halt as she pressed into your clit, a shocking sensation radiating through your thumping nerves.

“Show me how you do it,” she whispered into you.

“Hmm?” you moaned in question.

“Show me how you do it, my pretty girl. Rock on me. Be desperate for it.”

She gently caressed your clit for a few more beats before ceasing, signaling your cue. Gradually, you widen the space between your thighs, allowing her more room to tenderly touch your delicate clit with the pads of her fingers, exerting a firm pressure as you slowly but surely start to grind in response. She wanted to watch you work for it, observe your struggle as you ascended towards your own pleasure.

“Shuri, baby. Ah.”

The feeling was deeply fulfilling, your clit fluttering with each swipe as your soft moans pleased Shuri’s senses. A grin appeared on Shuri's lips as she observed how your pleasure radiated through your facial expressions. Your eyelids grow heavy, your eyebrows relaxed as your mouth falls open. The knot in your stomach tightened as your grinds became harder, your pussy getting louder as you soaked her fingers.

“Look at you go.”

“Unh.”

“Yeah that’s right,y/n. Mntana oyimtombazana.” (“Work for it.”)

“Shuri, unh..shit.”

Shuri gently grabs your throat, not enough to hinder your breathing but enough to get your attention. She entices you closer, pulling you in as she presses her lips to your ear, her words eliciting a shiver that surges through your body, infusing your pounding clit with waves of pleasure, as if it wasn’t already too much on your body.

“Such a needy little pussy, huh?”

“Mhmm. Yeah.”

“So slippery, nkosazana. All this just for me, yeah?”

“Yes, baby yes.”

It was absolutely sensational, her fingers coming in contact with your body as you rubbed against her created a knot in your stomach as the heat coursed through your legs and Shuri’s gaze remained on you, shifting from your pleasured face to your tired cunt.

“Your pussy is so pretty, look at how swollen you are…Bast.”

“Sh-Shuri,” you tremble, a warning that you were close. “I..I..I’m close. Mmm…uhn.”

“Hold it, sthandwa. I know you can.”

“B-but I can’t. I need to.”

“You can do it. Cuz you got no choice, my pretty girl. The most beautiful girl.”

Her carefully selected words seamlessly intertwined with your every gesture, engulfing you in a sensation that overwhelmed your mind and your pussy. The intensity compelled you to surrender, to embrace the fiery passion swirling within your core, while your pussy delicately throbbed.

“Shuri, stop talking like that…you’re gonna make me…f-fuck. Shit.”

“What is it, y/n? Can’t handle being my pretty princess?” She gained pleasure from teasing you, relishing in the sight of your blissful torment while you writhed on top of her, fighting hard to obey her and not cum until she let you. “Would you rather be my pretty slut?”

“Baby…please,” you begged.

“Mmmm,” she hummed low. “You can be both.”

“Shit,” you whined, unintentionally slowing your movements down to give your swollen clit a moment to wind down.

“Khange ndithi ungacotha. Qhubeka uhamba. Ndibonise ukuba ufuna embi kangakanani.” (I didn’t say you can slow down. Keep going. Show me how bad you want it.”)

“Shuri..I-I…”

As you were at the threshold, a few more swipes away from releasing onto her, she removed her fingers from you, a long sticky line connecting with her fingers until she drew them into her mouth, cleaning them dry as she kept her eyes on you.

“Wh-why did you do that?,” you struggled to say as your impending orgasm remained trapped between your legs, so close to being released from your body before she denied you. Shuri chuckles before kissing your cheek, still tear-stained from earlier.

“Ssshh, my love. You’ll get it soon. Don’t worry.”

Gently raising you from her lap, she clasped your hand as the two of you headed back to your hotel room. Your tense pussy nerves made walking a challenge, causing you to falter occasionally, but Shuri guided you every step of the way.

♪ ༘⋆ You love my lips ‘cause they say the things we’ve always been afraid of, I can feel it starting to subside, learning to believe in what is mine ♪ ༘⋆ (pov - ariana grande)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"Oh my god, Shuri!" you exclaim, caught off guard, as Shuri effortlessly lifts you off the ground and twirls you around, cradling your body in her embrace as you walk down the hotel corridor. With a playful gesture, she plants several kisses on your cheek, eliciting another burst of laughter from you. “Shuri, put me down!,” you manage to utter amidst your genuine laughter, even though your plea for her to let you go was anything but.

“Absolutely not, nkoszana,” she teases, spinning you once more before you make it to your hotel door. It was then Shuri placed you down, trapping you between the door and her body as her mouth traveled back to that sweet spot on your neck. Your hand made its way to the back of her head, gently grasping her soft curls as her passionate kisses milk a moan off your lips. Her hands creep down your body, caressing your curves before her fingers slowly find their way between your legs again, causing your knees to give out for a split second as you were still sore from your unreleased orgasm.

“Wait-Shuri…shit.”

The instant her fingers stroke you over the drenched material, a familiar sensation stirs within you, beckoning your orgasm to well up once more, eager to escape from your body.

“Shuri…please.”

“Hmmm?”

“Shuri…I…inside please, let’s go inside?”

She lifted her face from your neck, her hungry eyes meeting your pained ones as she continued her assault on your pussy. She dips her ring and middle finger beneath the fabric, coming in pure contact with your swollen clit once again, sending an electric pulse swimming through your aching cunt.

“Shuri-ah!,” you moaned loudly, most likely audible to anyone that may have been occupying any other of the hotel rooms. Shuri lifted a finger to your lip, a gesture that told you to keep quiet.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whispered, struggling to keep your heavy moans at bay.

“It’s ok, sthandwa, you’re ok. Let’s go inside now, yeah?”

You nodded, the only response you could give because if you dare to speak, coherent words would not fall out. Shuri only smirked at you, opening the door before lifting you up once again, shutting the door behind her aggressively while the two of you passionately kissed until your back gently pressed onto the bed.

Shuri was delicate in removing your dress from your body, gliding the zipper downwards and gracefully allowing the slender straps to slip off your shoulders. Your panties, she was not so gentle with, hooking her fingers underneath the lace that hugged your hips and tearing them, causing a whine to escape your lips.

“Shuri!”

“I’ll get you another pair, my love, do not worry.”

You yearned one another intensely, craving Shuri's touch with a deep hunger, and she desired you just as deep. For a moment, she got off the bed, allowing herself to become entranced with the way your slick glistened your inner thighs, doing all this as she unbuttoned her dress shirt and rolled up her sleeves, her small gold chain crystalline against her ebony skin. She was so beautiful and the sight of her only heightened your arousal, your core pulsing beneath her gaze.

Shuri got on the bed, resting herself on the headboard before motioning you to sit on her lap and you oblige, spreading your legs over hers as your pussy lingered above her crotch. She wasted no time sinking her eager fingers through your folds, her digits getting lost in your thick, swollen pussy as you feel the coolness of her rings up against you. She occasionally brushes over your clit and you flinch every time, still sensitive from her lingering touch.

“Shuri, stop playing baby,” you whine, completely unashamed of how needy your plea sounds.

“Where do you want me?”

“Inside…pl-please?”

“Mhmm….” Shuri pressed into your clit once more, pushing loving circles into you before she made her way down to your clenching hole. You were drenched, desperate for her touch but Shuri desired to savor this moment as if it were a rare occurrence, aiming to reaffirm that you were more than what others perceived you to be because in her eyes, you meant everything and even more.

She traced her fingers over your entrance, feeling the way your pussy chased after her in desperation. The relentless teasing she subjected you to was unbearable, driving you to the edge of exhaustion as your impatience mounted, begging her to put an end to it.

“Shuri, pleeease.”

With a sly expression, Shuri's crooked grin compliments her fingers as they firmly dig into you, using her free hand to guide your body onto her as if you were sitting onto her strap. She continuously pushes into you until her knuckles kiss your pussy lips, Shuri’s fingers are well acquainted with your body, swiftly linking the pads with that special spot inside you that makes your pussy walls convulse violently, prompting you to bury your head into her as you moan into her shoulder.

“Oh yes, Shuri, unh.”

“I want you to bounce, nkosazana. Ride me like you ride my dick.”

With her words infused with the depth in her tone, it provided all the motivation you required. A shiver rushed down your spine, intertwining with the shiver that surged through your pussy walls, instantly targeting your g-spot as you milked Shuri’s fingers.

Raising your head from her shoulder, you met her gaze fixed not on your eyes but on your body, observing every reaction you had to her touch. The way your breasts bounced frantically in tempo with her thrusts, and the way your pussy lips swelled from the stimulation made it evident just how much you desired her and how eager you were to surrender to the woman below you. Shuri brought her lips to your face, her eyebrows scrunched together as she planted fervent kisses on your temple before softly whispering words of reassurance into your ear, causing your walls to clench around her with urgency.

“Injalo, ntombi yam entle. Yileqe.” (“That’s right, my pretty girl. Chase it.”)

“Shuri, please.”

“Ukhangeleka umhle ngolu hlobo. Intle kakhulu xa uyinqwenela.” (“You look so pretty like this. So pretty when you’re desperate for it.”)

It’s moments like these where you’re thankful that you learned to speak Xhosa fluently, your mind becoming foggy with the native words that spill off of Shuri's tongue as her thrusts and your bounces simultaneously find each other in your g-spot. It was nothing short of pure bliss as your orgasm crept through you, the heat in your stomach igniting as your wet pussy echoed through the hotel room.

“Sh-Shuri…I’m gonna cum, Shuri.”

“Then do it.”

“Ah!”

For a few moments longer, Shuri showers you with praise, extolling your body and emphasizing how flawlessly your pussy compliments her, designed to take her and listen to her and this was all made clear with how her voice radiated through her next words, instantly pushing you to your orgasm.

“Cum, baby. Let this aching pussy have what she’s been begging for all night.”

And with her words, the pressure built to your breaking point as you released right onto her, oozing onto her hand and trailing down to her crotch. Your orgasm crashed through you wave after wave as Shuri continued to praise you through it, making promises of forever and how much she loves her pretty girl.

“Shuri, yeah,” you trembled, moans shattered and delicate, struggling to articulate thoughts while your mind and pussy absorbed everything.

"Ngokwenyani ungoyena mntu umhle ndakha ndambona. Ndifuna nje ukwenza ukuba ube cum ngokuphindaphindiweyo." ("You're literally the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I just wanna make you cum over and over again.")

“I..fuck.”

“Will you let me do that, y/n? Make you cum all the time? Whenever I please?”

You nod frantically, the pulse in your walls growing as Shuri continues to fuck you through it, switching between rubbing your clit and thrusting into you as you struggle to come down from your blissful state.

“Fuck, I love you,” she mumbles, repositioning you so your on your back, almost unaware of where you were but you snapped back to reality as you feel Shuri spread your legs open and place her mouth inbetween them, grazing her lips over your still sensitive clit and your whole body spasmed at her touch, absolutely fragile from your lingering orgasm.

“W-wait Shuri…I can’t…please,” you whimper, placing your hand over your aching pussy.

“Yihambise.” (“Move it.”)

“Baby…I-I…”

“Y/n…I said move it.”

You shake your head from side to side in protest, your face contorting in a mix of desperation and fatigue as your delicate pussy continues its rhythmic throb. Shuri removes herself from between your thighs, leaning forward to meet your gaze as she gently pinches your chin to redirect your attention to her. Cradling the back of your head, she holds you close, her light chain dangling inches from your face.

“There isn’t a woman in the world as strong as my baby girl. You can take anything. I promise. Do you understand me?”

You vigorously nod and she chuckles at the sight of your vulnerability, noticing how your responses have been reduced to mere head gestures, as you grapple to form coherent sentences.

“I know what your pussy needs, and from the way you’re still leaking onto these sheets like a slut, I know she wants more. Am I right?”

Another nod.

“Uze ube yintombazana elungileyo kum, nkosazana, wenze le nto ndiyithethayo. Hambisa isandla sakho.” (“Then be a good girl for me, princess, and do what I say. Move your hand.”)

You hesitated at first before you obeyed her words. You removed your hand from the heat between your thighs, revealing your pussy that continued to drip for her. Your pussy lips were puffy, your clit enlarged as you opened your legs wider for Shuris devour and she practically salivated at the sight of you before she dove into her meal with one flat lick through your folds. Instantly, your hand gravitates to your pussy again but Shuri lightly pushes it out the way, allowing nothing to get between her and what belongs to her.

“Ungakhe ucinge ngayo.” (“Don’t even think about it.”)

Finally, she takes your clit into the swells of her lips, pulling you into her mouth as she sucked and slurped both in and around you. Your legs rest on her shoulders, her hands hooked around your thighs, your toes perfectly pointed. It was overwhelming, her mouth on you as she moaned into your pussy and connected her gaze with yours. You brought your hand to gently fist her curls, using them as a handle to grind down on her tongue.

“Shuri, oh my god, baby yes,”

“Take it easy, sthandwa. I don’t want you cumming just yet.”

“Oh…okay…fuck.”

The squelch of your pussy resonated loudly, wet lips meeting wet lips as you sensed your impending climax. Your stomach started to twist into knots, the soles of your feet and palms of your hands tingle while your pussy hole tightened. You weren’t certain with how much longer you could keep it in as Shuri’s tongue work seemed to intensify, causing your cunt to clench repeatedly.

“Baby…I’m gonna-you’re gonna make me-”

Once again, Shuri moaned into your pussy, a sound that added to your already soaked cunt before reluctantly letting go. The physical and mental turmoil of nearing the threshold, only to be abruptly pulled away was agonizing. But Shuri had a different plan for the both of you. She wanted to experience your body entirely, to witness your release directly onto her as your body completely unraveled and understood that you belonged to her and it will remain so as long as you allow it.

She locks eyes with you while standing by the bed. With elegance and sexual frustration, she begins to unbutton the rest of her dress shirt, meticulously lifting the fabric from her body. Her perky breasts rest beautifully on her chest, her dark skin seemingly eager to intertwine with yours. As she begins to undo her belt buckle, you shift your position to sit at the edge of the bed in front of her, wanting to take over and complete the task yourself.

“Here baby, lemme take these off of you,” you plead. She nods in agreement, making room for you to complete the job. You earnestly unbuckle her belt, undoing each button one by one as you press your lips against the valley in her breasts. When her pants were undone, you slipped your hand beneath her boxers, your palm coming in direct contact with her dripping pussy and she took a sharp inhale as you glided through her folds.

“So wet just from tasting me,” you whispered with a smirk.

“Ndimanzi kuba ndikuthanda,” she replied. (“I’m wet because I love you.) She completely removes her pants and boxers from her body, standing before you fully bare in her petite yet toned body. “Lala phantsi ngenxa yam.” (“Lie back down for me.”)

In no time, Shuri grips your calf, guiding you into a perfect position where her pussy can meet yours. The moment she touches you, the instant her aching bud kisses yours, a surge of immediate pleasure overwhelms you, your jaw falling open as you sing soft melodies of praise meant for her ears only.

“Fuck baby.”

She embraces you, swaying back and forth until it feels like the entire universe is within your grasp. Your melanated skins meld as one, two feminine bodies intertwining to form the most exquisite shades of brown.

“Sh-Shuri, un-UNH.” Your moans escalated, becoming filthier by the second and you couldn't help but feel a tinge of embarrassment with how easily aroused you became and so you bit your bottom lip to try and contain the shameful moans that sat in the pit of your throat. Shuri's face was concentrated, eyebrows furrowing as she was captivated by the sight of your puffy pussy on hers; concentrated on sloshing cores and the friction created below. But she was determined to hear you, reveling in your inability to keep quiet as she pleased you with her body. She allowed muffled moans and gentle whimpers to linger on for too long, fully aware that you wanted to completely unleash yourself. And she would make you.

“No, don’t do that.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t hold back.”

No matter how many times she saw you naked, how many times she’s fucked you into oblivion, you always became embarrassed with how effortlessly compliant your body was, how loud your mouth and your pussy desperately became.

“What’d I say about holding it in?”

You shake your head in defiance, struggling to muffle the pitiful moan welling up within you. It's almost as if you're testing her, curious to see how she'll respond and whether she'll get her way. Shuri doesn’t hesitate to snake her palm around your throat, almost in a loving manner as she grins. She presses lightly, again, not enough to hinder your breathing pattern but enough to get your attention on her.

“Answer me, princess. What’d I say about holding it in?”

“Y-you…fuck. You said n-not to,” you struggled to say amidst Shuri’s heavy grinding.

“Injalo, ntombi yam entle,” she responds (“That’s right, my pretty girl). Still, you resist her, intrigued to witness the depths of determination in your normally tender and affectionate Shuri, to see how far she'll go in pursuing her own desires. You feel the compression on your windpipe escalate much harder than it was, oxygen struggling to move down your throat and it makes you soak as you moan in unison with your guttural gasps. You clasp her wrist for support, a soft smile appearing on your face as you get lost in your dwindling breathing pattern.

“I…Shuri…AH!”

“That’s it, y/n. Pour it out, just like I said. Let yourself feel the things you feel. Let me give your pretty pussy what she deserves…shit.”

“UNH.”

“Nantso ke sthandwa sam, mandikuva.” (“That’s it my love, let me hear you.”)

Your pussy entrance clenched frantically, your used clit beating like rapid thunder as your orgasm awaited you. And it was no different for Shuri. It was written all over her face. The more she spoke, the more broken and disheveled her sentences became, her jaw twitching and abs contracting as she chased her own high, absolutely desperate to feel your pussy cum all over her palpitating clit.

“Sh…Shuri! Ooooo fuck baby…I-I’m gonna…”

“Do it. Flood m-me…unh.”

Both of your moans were messy, filling the air with cries of each others names as Shuri continued to fuck you with her drenched pussy. It was exhilarating, a rush of warmth that surged through your body, starting as a tight ball of heat in your sex and radiating outward. The thump between your dewy folds pulsed at a faltering rhythm, one beat upon another, as you felt Shuri's clit continuously twitching and teasing against you.

“Fuck, y/n. You make my pussy feel so g-good,” Shuri moaned, struggling to descend from her own state of bliss. And she was a sight to see. Her dark skin glistened with perspiration, the chain adhering to her body due to the sweat. Her curls were ruffled, their natural pattern still discernible but marred by the droplets of sweat that trickled down her forehead. And you could always tell how hard her orgasm was rushing through her body with the way her abs tightened and her jaw clenched, her pussy puffed out as her clit jolted with pleasure. Your girlfriend was ridiculously sexy and the way her body reacted to yours was a testament in itself with how much she loved you.

Before you were able to come back to earth, you felt one last lick up your folds and you shuddered violently forcing Shuri to grip your thighs tightly in order to keep you still. You were still so achy, pulsations still finding a way to decrease as Shuri pressed her mouth onto you, kissing your pussy lips like they’re the lips on your face.

“Ugqibelele kakhulu,” she hums into your cunt before licking your juices up (“You’re so perfect,”). “Intwana yakho igqibelele.” (“Your pussy is so perfect.”)

Another lick through your folds that makes you jolt and you consider trying to squirm out of her grasp but the sight of Shuri worshiping words of praise into your pussy in her native tongue is enough to let you keep her there.

"Ndifuna ukudlala kwi intwana yakho ngalo lonke ixesha.” (“I want to play in your pussy all the time.”)

“Ufuna ukwenza ukuba uze ngapha nangapha nangaphezulu kwakhona.” (“Wanna make you cum over and over and over again.”)

“Nanini na ndifuna.” (“Whenever I want.”)

"Kuba ndiyakuthanda." (“Because I love you.”)

“Intwana yam.” (“My pussy.)

“Umntwana wam oyintombazana.” (“My baby girl.”)

They were words of promise, words of desire as you cum once more. The waves of her husky voice surged through you as her mouth wrapped around your clit and you whimpered through your overwhelming orgasm, legs trembling as you trapped Shuri between the thickness of your dark thighs.

“Sh-Shuri…please. I-ah…I can’t take it anymore.”

“I know, baby.”

“Then…please.” You were shaking, completely overtaken by it all. “Please Shuri…I can’t.”

Shuri plants one last kiss onto your clit and you shudder, breasts and thick thighs jiggling one last time before Shuri removes herself from the heaven between them. You were her baby girl, her princess, her everything and she didn’t want you to feel anything less. She comes back up to face you, caressing your cheek as sleep crept through your mind.

“Y/n…are you able to wash up yourself?”

You nodded and Shuri smiled, proud of you.

“Then go do it, please. I’ll be out here waiting for you.”

“W-wait…why can’t we wash up together? We always do it together,” you pouted.

“Sshhhh,” she whispered, still caressing your beautiful face. “Kukanye nje, sthandwa sam. Ndiyacela." (“Just this once, my love. Please.”)

You hesitate, but nod, bringing her in for a kiss as you taste the remnants of your pleasure on Shuri’s lips.

“Good girl. Always my good girl.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

♪ ༘⋆ Open up those gates to your heart, Only if you’ll let me ♪ ༘⋆ (favorite song - toosii)

After finishing your shower and changing into pajamas, you step out of the bathroom only to be greeted by a heartwarming sight that leaves you holding back tears. A trail of rose petals leads from the bathroom door to the neatly made hotel bed, where you and Shuri shared your intimate moment. Placed on the bed is a large stuffed panda bear, a thoughtful reminder that Shuri noticed your love for these creatures during your trip to China to visit The Great Wall. Right in front of the bear sits a beautifully wrapped box. Shuri's smile warms your heart, and you rush into her arms, straddling her with a passionate kiss. She changed into low waisted black joggers with a matching black crop top, showing off her sculpted body and toned arms as the subtle gold chain remained on her neck. She looked damn good.

“Baby, you didn’t have to do all this.”

“Of course I did. You’re my girlfriend.”

“Shuri…”

“Sshhh, y/n, just open it.”

“But I didn’t get you anything.”

“Y/n…I don’t get you things to get things in return. I get you things because I love you and because I can. Now open it…please?”

"Mmmm okay!," you giggled, playfully pecking Shuri's nose before removing yourself from her lap. You picked up the gift, giving it a little shake before eagerly unwrapping it. Inside, you found exquisite souvenirs from each of the stops you and Shuri had made on your trip to the Seven Wonders. The items looked rare and valuable, serving as a beautiful memento of the precious time you had spent with the woman you cherished the most.

“Shuriiiiii! Where-how? How did you get these??”

Shuri shrugs her shoulders, a half cocky grin painting her face. “I have my ways.”

You rolled your eyes in a playful manner, proceeding to dig through the gift. Along with it all was a kimoyo bracelet, and you smiled at the gesture.

“Thank you babyyyy,” you squeal, wrapping your arms around her neck. “Now I can do all the things you do!”

“Welllll not quite. Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now,” she chuckled. “I made this mostly so I can keep you safe even when I’m not around. That amongst…other things.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“What things?”

“Oh you know…like…things…like I can give you orgasms with it.”

“Oh my god, Shuri!,” you laugh, playfully hitting her once more before proceeding to look in the box, finding a folded piece of paper at the bottom.

“Oooo, what’s this??,” you ask before Shuri takes the paper from your hand, laughing in your state of confusion.

“I wanna read this to you myself,” she says, her voice smooth as silk.

“What is it?”

“Just relax for me. Here…hold this,” she says, placing the panda plush in your arms. It was so cute.

Shuri slowly unfolded the paper, kissing your lips before inhaling deeply.

“I call this piece ‘Seven Wonders’.”

“Piece? Shuri, what is this?”

“Just…listen...”

✎✯ “They say the world contains wonders, I heard there were seven

But what wonders do they speak of if we don’t live in heaven?

They say the world contains beauty, but for me it was tragic

And though I don’t believe fables, I believe you are magic

I say the world contains death, yet in you I find life

And though now I’m your girlfriend, I hope one day I’m your wife

I say the world is but hell, yet you are my heaven

And if the world contains wonders, then you are all seven” ✯✎

With each word, each stanza and rhyme, you were brought to a state of healing. A state where you could feel Shuri’s words pick up the pieces for you and mend them back into one. You were an emotional wreck, tears falling down your cheeks uncontrollably to a point where softs sobs ripped out of your mouth. Your chest felt heavy and light all at once, as you were overtaken and consumed by the love you had for your girlfriend.

“Shuri, what the fuck???,” you cried, basking it all in. “That was so fucking beautiful, what? I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, nkoszana. You just have to believe it.”

“Shuri I…I didn’t even get you anything.”

"Baby, come here," she murmurs gently, gesturing for you to return and settle back into her lap, and you comply willingly. With your puffy eyes meeting hers, she can't help but be overwhelmed with love for you.

“You are my gift.”

Your lips form a pout, eyes twinkling with your tears.

“What life took away from me, Bast replaced with you. You, my angel, are my gift.” She places a kiss on your cheek, the salt of your tears lingering on her lips and she allows it because she wants to stay here forever, wants to sulk in everything she’s feeling as a reminder that this is not a dream. She begins crying with you, overwhelmed with the gift that was you, overwhelmed that she had explored the world’s most intricate of beauties and yet you were still the most beautiful to her.

“Thank you my love,” you whisper for her ears only, nuzzling your face into the warmth of her neck as she kisses your temple in longing. “You’re my everything, Shuri.”

“Nawe ungowam.” (“And you are mine.”) ❁ཻུ۪۪♡

♪ ༘⋆ I see reflections of me when I look at you, and I ain’t never felt this way, and I can’t lie girl you got it, and I got pain all in my body you helping me heal from, lil’ mama a real one ♪ ༘⋆ (reflections - dustystaytrue ft. toosii)