#and not enough people appreciate their older songs

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

omg fellow perf unit girl …,, they’re so addicting it drives me crazy

They really are. I think the only performance unit song I don't like is Pang! but, everything else? Immaculate.

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Hello! I would like to make a request about Dae-Ho, a character I love. I would like the story to show how Dae-Ho and the reader develop a special connection during the games, despite being on opposite sides. She is part of Thanos' team, but they still interact frequently. On one of those nights, they kiss and promise to get to know each other better once it's all over. However, that promise is not fulfilled because she dies in the carousel game.

I hope this story fits the bill. Happy holidays! <3

Anything Is Possible?

KANG DAE-HO X READER

Summary- You are number 230's, rapper Choi Su-bong, sister. Just because you are on 'Thanos Team', does that mean you can Dae-Ho cant get together? Will you survive long enough?

Warnings- Squid Games, Angst, mentions of blood, murder, and death

A/N- I combined this ask with another anon request, "badass reader and daeho! maybe she is related to 100 and that's why the romance is kind of forbidden but she doesn't agree with his actions and thinks daeho is very cute. I would love a first kiss between the two, which she initiated and he was all embarrassed but really excited" I hope y'all don't mind, they were very similar!

Word Count- 4,605

"What is your problem!" You found yourself yelling at your brother. While this was not uncommon, the situation surely was. Thanos the rapper, or just known as Choi Su-bong to you, had pushed several people down on purpose. This killed them in the Red light, Green light game.

"You killed them!" You continued, though he did not seem to care.

"Look, as far as 'The Thanos' is concerned, each body means more cash for MOI!" He spoke, uncaring.

"Oh, and if it was me, would you let me get shot!" You crossed your arms, eyeing him up and down.

He looked around, checking for any guards. He then slipped out his cross form under his shirt. You knew he had some kind of drug in there.

"Look, if it will shut you up, you can have one. But keep your mouth closed!" He ushered his cross in your direction. You rolled your eyes.

"I'd like to at least be aware of my surrounding in a death defying game!" "Shhh, Shhhh!" His face scrunched up as he looked at you, offended. He thought someone might have been drawn to your choice words.

You scoffed and walked off, sitting on the edge of a bed to catch a train of thought.

With a puff, you pressed your head into your hands. Could you really go on like this? Risking your life? Then it hit you, your life was over either way. Loan sharks were bound to kill you the second you left... Might as well go out with a bang?

The gruesome thought lingered until you felt the bed sink next to you.

"Thanos, I don't want to-" You looked up to not see your brother. Instead a man with a '388' on his jacket.

"Well I'm not sure who 'Thanos' is, but are you doing okay?" He looked genuinely concerned.

You started at him for a second, "Like fifty people just died..."

He faltered, "W-well yeah... Obviously you aren't okay... I just, I saw you arguing with that guy... The one with purple hair." You sigh again at his response. Well, this might be the last conversation you ever have. Why not be an open book!

"That's my brother. He thinks since he got one hit song, he can boss anyone around." You again rolled your eyes at the thought of him.

"Oh... I see. I-I have three older sisters, I know how it can get." He said, trying to offer you some sort of condolence.

You gave a side smile at him, appreciative of his efforts. "Thanks... What got you into these games?" You figured there's no reason for 'proper exchanges.' What was the point anymore?

He seemed ashamed at the question. "Sorry, if it makes you feel any better- I'm about 30 million won in debt. Some online crypto coin my brother swindled me into. Lost big time." You explained.

He shook his head, "No, no, its fine. See, I was a marine. Couldn't find a job after I got out. Guess I just got carried away with the wrong people... Got into some bad loans."

You gave a sympathetic face. "That sucks..." He just nodded sheepishly.

A silence fell between you two, but it wasn't awkward or annoying. It just...was.

"Well, uh, which are you going to vote?" He asked like it had been on the tip of his tongue all day.

As the Guards had told us earlier, we would get a chance to vote before the next game. Stay or Go.

"My brother seems pretty adamant on staying... And I honestly don't think it would be smart to piss him off anymore. He's got me in his little clique already." You didn't really know which one you would have chosen if the vote was anonymous.

He nodded in understanding. "I mean, I don't have a groupie or anything. But, you could stick with me if you wanted."

Your heart fluttered. Looking up at him, you seemed to just notice how handsome he was... Then reality hit.

"I deeply appreciate that... But I think you might have better odds without me. Choi- uh Thanos, would probably do something to you... I don't really want to risk it, I'm sorry." You knew that you really did want to be on his team, but you also knew how your brother was.

He had a slight look of defeat on his face, "I get it. I feel confident about the next game. I mean, if they're all children games, how hard can it be? I'll vote the same as you."

You agreed, "Then, maybe I can talk to Thanos? See if he wants another member?" You smiled at him.

He opened his mouth to speak, happily, but the two of you were interrupted when the pink guards came back in. Letting everyone know it was time to vote.

"See ya on the other side." You said, standing up to rejoin Thanos. Plus his newly acquired group of 3.

"Yes ma'am!" He responded, giving a small salute. You just laughed as you glanced at him a last time.

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

"Are you crazy!" Thanos whisper-yelled at you, turning the two of you away from the group. "Are you tryna embarrass me in front of my boys!" He scolded you like a child. His arms and shoulders going up.

"It's not that big of a deal, he was a marine, he could be good for us." Thanos just "tsked' in response.

"No. We are already perfecto. No more room." He said as-a-matter-of-fact. His arms making an 'X.'

You turned and looked at the two men staring at you. "Thanos, there are four of us in total. What if the next game is five players!"

"Huh, and what if its four! Then I'd be pushing YOU out, Cause of ya mouth." He made faces at you, then laughed loudly. "I'm just joking sistah! I'd only do that if you really pissed me off.... We are sticking to four." His expression turned serious.

"Fine."

At a mere coincidence, you turned around and saw '388' staring at you. You mouthed a 'sorry' and shook your head. Signalling Thanos said 'no.'

He nodded, then smiled at you anyways. At that, you watched him walk over and sit with a group of 'X's.

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

The lights soon went out. You laid back in your bed, trying to get some kind of sleep. It was useless, especially when you heard a 'psst' right next to you.

You turned your head, playing cool, even though it did startle you a bit. "Shh, It's just me." The voice rang familiar, and when you squinted your eyes in the dark your made out number 388's face. He was on his knees, crouched down next to your bed.

"What are you doing!" You whispered at him, sitting up quickly. Thanos and his two members were just a bed away.

"Shhhh, I have something to tell you." He said, his hands were waving slightly, a nervous tick.

You eyed him, moving closer. "What?"

"One of the guys has played these before. He said he won the games...That he knows which one is next."

Your hands rise to rub sleep from your eyes, "Really? You think he's telling the truth?"

With a frantic nod he continues, "It was the guy who knew about the Red light, Green light. Number 456."

You looked down, "Why are you telling me this..." You questioned, unaware of any kind of unconditional kindness.

"I want you to survive, why else?" You locked eyes with him. They were honest and pure.

"Well, what's the next game?" You didn't know how to respond to such generosity. For all he knew you would stab him in the back. Not that you could bring yourself to, not after he snuck over to tell you.

"He said its Dalgona. Ya know, the game where you scratch out the candy shape?" You knew the game, having played it in your youth.

"Make sure you pick the Triangle. It's the easiest one." You nodded.

At that, a shuffle made both of you turn your head. Thanos moved in his sleep, rolling over. His eyes were closed, but he was now facing you.

"You better go, in case he wakes up." You warned, not wanting any drama.

His head shook in agreeance, he raised to walk off.

"Wait!" You whispered, he looked back. "What's your name?"

"Dae-Ho. Dae-ho Kang."

"Thank you, Dae-ho..." The corners of your face rose, almost grinning at yourself saying his name.

He gave a small wave of his hand, another salute. You suppressed a giggle, and laid back down. Sleep came easier this time...

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

"Welcome to your second game, this game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of five in the next ten minutes."

You looked around, Dalgona was not a team game. Had Dae-Ho lied to you? No, why else would he sneak over in the middle of the night. It didn't make sense. Maybe 456 was lying?

"Should have listened to me, now we have to find another person." You remarked to your brother, smugly.

"Trust trust, my skeptic sister. Thanos has got this under control!" He spoke about himself, immediately levitating to the closest attractive women. You, once again, found yourself rolling your eyes.

"Señorita, excuse me?" You wanted to physically face palm at his attempt at a pickup line.

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

Quickly enough, time selection was up. Everyone was orderly sat in their groups. Conveniently, Dae-Ho and his group sat behind you.

"Dae-Ho." You called, moving to be in his range of sight.

"Ahh, hey!" He said, excitedly. His demeanor changing from skittish when he saw you.

"So, what happened to Dalgona?" You asked, not blaming him- just curious.

He gave an unsure face, equally as confused. "He said the games must not be the same. I'm sorry."

"What for?" You beamed, knowing it was not his fault.

He laughed, "I guess I don't know.."

You just shook your head humorously. "Which game are you going to do?"

"Uhmm, Gong-Gi... My sister's played it a lot, so I'm used to it."

"They've got me doing spinning top. I was never any good at Gong-Gi." You made a glance to Thanos, he was high out of his mind. You caught him slipping Nam-Gyu a pill. He didn't notice you talking to Dae-Ho.

"I wish you the best of luck!" He gave a quick bow of the head.

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

The game went smoothly enough. Though, it took much longer than Red light, Green light. Watching all of the teams go one at a time was excruciating.

A handful of words exchanged with Dae-Ho while waiting was calming, it grounded you. He had nothing to gain by helping you, he simply did. It was flattering.

You and Dae-Ho had figured out that his team was going last. It was nerve-wracking to think about him not making it. No one had ever effected you like this before...

Eventually your team went, suffering frequent verbal degration from Thanos and Nam-Gyu. Thankfully your team made it with 8 seconds to spare. Too close for your comfort.

The worst part came when you had to wait. You felt like you could hear a large clock ticking right by your ear.

Would Dae-Ho's team make it? You didn't doubt his Gong-Gi skills, but he was dependent on the skills of his team mates as well. It was terrifying to think they were shot with not enough time to complete the games.

You couldn't bare Thanos bantering, he complained about every survivor. It just made you more paranoid about Dae-Ho's possible death.

Trying to settle your mind, you stepped away from your group, preferring to sit by yourself on the edge on the steps. You picked at your nails, praying he would make it.

Minutes and minutes went by. No one had come out in a while. Was the game finished? Did they die?

Just as you were about to return to your brother hopeless, one last group appeared.

A gasp left you as you watched Dae-Ho's team emerge. You stood up, cheering with a handful of other players. Your hands were clasped gleefully In front of you.

Dae-Ho's gaze was fixed on you, he chuckled. His first raised in victory.

You gave him a salute back.

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

You managed to slip away from Thanos. He was too busy hitting on Se-Mi. You were grateful for her, it took some of the pressure and attention off of you. You had to remember to thank her later.

"Dae-Ho!" You called out, he turned around and stepped away from his group.

"You were amazing! You went 'Wooshhh' and got the top first try!" He was practically bouncing on his heels. He mimicked the process of spinning a top with his hands and body.

"Thank you, Thank you." You pretended like you were bowing to an applauding audience.

"How did Gong-Gi go?" You asked, antsy. He rubbed the back on his neck.

He grinned deep, "Would you believe me if I said I got it first try too?"

Your face lit up, "Really!"

"I swear it!" He placed a hand across his chest.

You gave a quick clap to him, "I knew you could do it!"

You felt like a schoolgirl again. Talking to Dae-Ho made you feel like a blushing bride. He was such a ray of light and hope for you.

"What do you think the next game is?" He questioned, taking a seat on a step by the large doors.

You thought for a second, "I don't know, Maybe some kind of mind game. Since the last two have been really physical."

He nodded, "Yeah, maybe, maybe. Thats smart thinking."

You joined him on the step facing him. While you were about to change the conversation, you overheard a few people talk about what they were voting next. It reminded you of the real life-or-death situation you were in.

"So, d'ya think you're going to change your vote?" You became more solemn.

"...Yeah, I just... The others have convinced me. I mean, truly, I shouldn't have voted 'stay' in the first place..." He looked down, almost as if he had disappointed you.

"Honestly, Dae-Ho... I want to leave too... But, but, what if I press 'leave', and we still have to continue the games. Then Thanos would be pissed, and deep down I need him. He's still my brother." You hated the fact, but you were scared of what Thanos would do.

Dae-Ho thought for a moment. He mumbled something you didn't quite catch. "What?" He stood up.

"I can protect you. Honest. With my life." Your breath hitched, you stood up as well.

You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. "Oh Dae-Ho... That's just the thing. I can't have you risking your life. Not for me."

He gently lifted your hands into his. "You are worth risking my life for."

"Dae-Ho, you don't even know my name." Your voice quivered.

He nodded quick, "Then lets change that. What's your name." You bit your bottom lip before telling him.

"Now, I can defend you from Thanos. He won't do anything to do." He ended with your name, it sounded angelic coming from his mouth.

"I'm sorry... I just... can't." You let go of his hands, fully set on walking away. But, he stopped you. He grasped your shoulder.

"Please don't go. I'll stop talking about it, I swear." He pleaded. He truly just wanted to be with you, he was content with you.

And you were with him.

You closed your eyes, shook your head. You fought off any kind of objection. "Okay."

The two of you talked and talked, time ran past. You no longer seemed to worry about the games, just that you knew you wanted to stay with Dae-Ho.

Until, the large doors opened and the pink guards once again announced a vote.

You said a quick 'goodbye' to Dae-ho, hoping the games wouldn't continue. Even if you never saw him again, at least he would be alive.

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

Much to your dismay, the games would continue another round. The vote wasn't even close this time. It was almost relieving, knowing that your vote was not the determining factor.

Once again, the lights went out to signify the night. You noticed teams were huddling together for protection, taking shifts and keeping watch. It was getting more serious as each hour went by. You could not find rest, feeling extremely uneasy.

While you tried to find some sort of reassurance in Thanos, he was fast asleep. You decided to take your chance and go see Dae-Ho. Just as he had done for you.

You knew the general area where his group was, but couldn't make out specific people in the dark. Not from your distance.

You racked up the nerve to quietly shuffle over. Your socks helping to muffle any noise.

"Shh, someone is coming." You heard a man whisper, it was 456. You could see the large numbers next to the 'O' on his jacket.

"I-is Dae-Ho with you..." You ask, shakily.

"And what do you want with him?" A man next to 456 spoke, defensively.

"I- Hes my friend, I need to talk to him." You tried, fiddling with your fingers.

"Yeah, Sure he is. You're probably trying to get in and take one of us out, huh!" The man 390 rose, acting like he was ready to fight.

You stepped back, "No, really, I swear I'm not!"

You heard your name, a confused Dae-Ho crawled out from under a bed. "Dae-Ho, please tell them in not trying to kill any of you."

"What?" He was still weary from sleep, rubbing his eyes. Once he saw the position you and 390 were in, He quickly stepped between the two of you.

"No, No, she wouldn't do that. Really, whatever shes saying she's telling the truth." Dae-Ho came to your rescue.

"Can we talk Dae-Ho?" You stepped closer to him, both of your hands gently resting on his arm. He nodded rapidly, stepping away from his group.

The two of you found a cluster of abandoned beds, and sat on the floor between them

"Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?" He looked you over for any visible infliction's.

"No, no I'm fine..." You pulled your knees to your chest. "I just wanted to see you." You felt silly once it left your lips.

His face flushed beet red, you could even tell in the dark. His hair falling in his face made you reach a hand out and brush it back. "O-oh"

"You never told me what you think the next game is, Dae-Ho." You needed a distraction.

He shook his head, like he was getting some thoughts out. "I have no idea... I just hope its an easy one. Gi-Hun, uh 456, said that they've already played Tug-of-war, Marbles, and some kind of glass stepping game. So, uh, I would assume none of those would repeat."

"I'm glad I missed Tug-of-war... That would mean the number of survivors would be half..." You thought.

He changed the subject, beginning with your name. "What's wrong? I know you said you wanted to see me, but, I guess I don't understand why."

"Dae-Ho, I don't really know why either. I just, wanted to be with you. I feel safe with you. I feel like I'm alone anytime you walk away..." You blinked away a stray tear.

Dae-Ho was lost in thought, he had thought his feelings weren't reciprocated. Maybe they were after all?

He didn't have time to speak, because you have lounged yourself forward in a burst of confidence. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and pushed him to the floor. He was laid on his back with you on top of him, as you pressed a hard kiss to his lips.

His eyes widened, his body went rigid. When you pulled away to look at him, he stammered. "I-I, Uhm."

At his reaction you pulled away quickly, "I'm so sorry, I thought-"

"Can you please do that again." He was now giddy, a fat smile on his face. Excitement radiated out of him. "A-are you sure.. You seemed so..."

"No, no, you just caught me off guard, please, please kiss me again." He scrambled to a sit, hoping you would come closer again.

With a refound joy, you moved closer. This time you went slow, making sure to bask in the moment. You once again wrapped your arms around Dea-Ho's neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

"You're perfect.." He mumbled against your lips. Though, he felt something wet on his face. He pulled away, his eyes soft, "Whats wrong?"

You sniffled, "Promise me. Promise me, that after everything is over, that we will find each other." You asked, pressing your cheek against his.

"I swear it, I swear we will meet after the games." He leaned in for another kiss.

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

"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle."

Okay, this one seemed safe. You had a large group, this can work. You tried to be positive, you had someone to look forward to after the game.

"Heyyy, we'll be mingling together. Doesn't that sound like so much fun?" Thanos went on, trying to hype everyone up. The only one who was just as high as him was Nam-Gyu. It worried you that he wasn't fully aware of his surroundings, but at least he wasn't on your tail about everything.

"Please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

You nodded, understanding the rules. Everyone gathered to the platform. You noticed groups staying together, huddling close.

While following Thanos, you passed Dae-Ho's group, you caught his eye and gave him a small salute. It seemed the two of you now had an inside joke.

"Let the game, begin."

At the jump and pull of the platform, you almost lost your balance. You reached a hand out and held onto your brother. He looked over at you, for a split second he actually seemed like your brother. He was there for you.

That's until a muffled snort came from Nam-Gyu. Thanos pushed your hand off, laughing at you.

You sighed and thought of a smart remark, but the platform stopped spinning and a 'Ten' rang out.

Thanos laughed loudly, "We needa four!!" He screamed, shaking his face all about.

"Were four!" A man yelled back, and Thanos took off running. Your eyes widened and you ran after him. "Run, Hurry!" You yelled at Se-Mi, who had stopped to grab Min-Su.

Luckily everyone had made it to the room, just as the door shut the timer went off. The door locked shut. You peaked out of the doors small slit. You didn't see Dae-Ho. A good sign.

Multiple gunshots rang out, each making your body jolt.

"Ha Ha! My family! We did it!" Thanos bantered, clapping some of the men on their backs.

When the doors finally opened again, you looked around. You looked and looked for Dae-Ho. Finally sighing in relief when you saw him. He ran over to you.

"You're okay, thank God!" He hugged you, you held him tight.

You swallowed hard, "It's not over yet. I'll find you after the next round!" You said, quickly finding Thanos again.

"Yeahhhh! Easyyy!" Him and Nam-Gyu joked back and forth. They started dancing to the music as the platform started rotating again.

'Four'

Thanos stopped and looked at his group for a minute. "Gyeong-su, you're with me!" He grabbed his hand, pulling him.

"Damn!" Nam-Gyu said, gripping your arm and pulling you. While you were happy to be chosen, you were worried for Min-su and Se-Mi.

"Lets goooo!" Thanos yelled once we were all in the room.

"Thanos what was that! Gyeong-su over me!" You pointed your finger at him.

"I swear I thought I was pulling you! Besides, you gotta stop running your mouth. You made it, you're fine!"

You couldn't believe what he was saying. Sure, he talked a lot about leaving you. But it was always just talk? Right?

The door opened once again, you were thankful to be away from Thanos. Your new objective was to find Dae-Ho now.

This time, the second you saw him- you ran to him. You no longer cared about what Thanos thought, nor what he'd do.

"I'm so happy to see you." Dae-Ho mumbled into your hair, which his face had been shoved into right after you ran into his arms.

"I have to stay with you, Thanos tried to leave me. I can't make it with him." Dae-Ho didn't hesitate, and pulled you over to his group.

Though, Thanos didn't like that. "Yo, brotha. What're you doing with my sister!" He tried to shove Dae-Ho, but he was bigger and stronger.

The platform started to spin.

"Leave her alone, you obviously cant take care of your sister." He ushered you behind him.

"I don't know what you're talking about bro! I save her, shes only alive because of me and Nam-Gyu!" He argued, leaving out the crucial part of information where he wasn't the one who grabbed you.

"It doesn't matter anymore. I will keep her safe now, you can mind your own business and get along with Nam-Gyu."

They continued to yell and argue over the carousel's music, it was difficult to hear them. Until,

'Three'

Thanos gripped one of your arms, Dae-Ho held another.

"Thanos, let go!" You yelled, trying to pull from his grasp.

It was chaotic, screaming was heard around you. "Dae-Ho, this way!" Two men yelled out, Dae-Ho twisted his head but didn't move.

Your stomach dropped. You couldn't be the reason Dae-Ho would die. You were all running out of time.

"Dae-Ho, go. Please! I'll go with Thanos and Nam-Gyu!"

"I'm not leaving you!" He was adamant about protecting you. Damned everyone else.

"If you don't go, we will all die. Time is running out!" Dae-Ho battled internally, you let go of his hand.

"Go! It's okay, I'll see you in a minute!"

He didn't want to leave, he couldn't. But you made him. When he slowly walked backwards, you let out a relived sigh. You then turned to run with Thanos. Nam-Gyu was already in a room, his yelling ushering you two forward.

It was going to be okay, The three of you in a room. Everything was fine. There was time.

Until, Nam-Gyu moved out of the way... Gyeong-su was behind him... There was already two in the room. Thanos ran in, not thinking twice.

Your running came to a stop right outside of the door. Where Thanos himself had closed it on you.

A "NO!" Was heard from across the room. It was Dae-Ho. He tried to come to you, but he was too far.

Player 456 and player 001 were pulling him into a room. Forcing the door shut. You could see Dae-Ho looking out of the door slit, his hands peaking out as well.

You didn't turn to see what Thanos might have been doing. You didn't care. Not anymore.

You just wanted your last moment to be looking at the most handsome man you'd ever met. His soft eyes were filled with tears as he watched you.

You weren't upset, not scared, not nervous. Not anymore.

It would all be over soon.

You gave him one last salute before a loud bang rang out.

A/N- Not going to lie ya'll, I ate that up. But I still love hearing y'all's constructive criticism! Please LMK if you want to be added to my tag list, TYSM for reading!

Dae-Ho Taglist- @fuzzyscissorsmakerpie-blog @thethreeeyed-raven

[jaylver]

SLUT! — P.JS

synopsis: experiencing love in your last year of high school was totally unexpected, especially when it’s the fact that you had fallen for the boy everyone wants. what you weren’t prepared for was the troubles that came with it. however, you were willing to pay the price just for the sake of love. 

pairings: non-idol!jay x afab!reader

genre: acquaintances to lovers, high school au, romance, angst, coming of age (?)

warning(s): profanities, (slight) slut shaming, underage drinking and partying

wc: 6.7k

a/n: last fic of 2023! thank you for all the support 🫶 a little piece dedicated to everyone and also those who loves this song equally as much as me! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

Finding love was the last thing you had on your list right now.

It was the final year of high school. Everyone was freaking out over the fact that they were growing older and their time in high school was over. The Californian air couldn't be any more duller after that. Senior prom and graduation preparations were already starting even though it was just the start of the year. What was stopping them anyway? 

Being a teenager was art, but what they didn't tell you about growing up was the process of falling in love. 

It was torture. Witnessing people in love all around you while you struggled with advancing past the talking stage. No, it wasn't fair. However, having cupid strike its bow at you unexpectedly one day was the worst of crimes.

You know the embarrassing feeling when you see your classmates outside of school? Right. That was how you felt the moment Park Jong Seong walked into your mother's clinic, your eyes widening behind the counter. Must you be responsible for the counter at this very hour?

“Hey—Y/N?”

Jay was a classmate. You didn't really know him and neither did he know much about you. It was just neutral, where you coexist in the same space until the bell rings and the day ends. You get the gist. 

That doesn't exclude the point where Jay was widely known, though. He wasn't like his popular jock friends or an athlete whatsoever. Instead, he was a studious guy who kept his reputation clean. Basically, he was your typical golden boy. You knew he wasn't completely innocent to an extent, but at least he was good at hiding it. 

There is no denying that everyone wants him. He was a nice guy paired with strong, distinct features. It was no secret he was also known for his looks and caring manners.

“Jay? What are you doing here?” 

He was wrapped in a thick hoodie, hands hidden in his pants pocket. “Caught a cold. I thought I should drop by to see a doctor and get some medicine,”

“Oh no,” you tried your best at giving a concerned expression, though you were busy skimming through files on the laptop. “Do you have a record here?”

“I do. Not my first time,”

You tried for his full legal name instead of ‘Jay Park’ and thankfully, his record showed up. “Found it,” you glanced up just to find him staring back at you. This was probably the first time you were this close to him, enough to be able to distinguish the moles on his face.

“I'll call you in a bit,”

You did what you always do every time, inform your mother and call the patients in. But Jay wasn't just another patient to you. When you called his name, you watched as he got closer, casting you a sweet smile right before he disappeared behind the door, leaving you to your seat at the counter, overthinking the littlest details that you knew you'd have to spill to your best friend after.

Jay waited patiently by the counter once it was time to pay. His gaze followed your every move as you got his prescribed medicine and stuffed them carefully into a bag. 

“Here you go,” you passed the bag over, then accepted the cash he had been holding for a while. “Thanks,” you muttered, taking the chance at avoiding eye contact when you slipped the cash into the register.

“Thank you too,” Jay said, immediately gaining your attention. He was still managing a smile even though you could tell he was shivering slightly. 

“No problem. Rest well,” you took a piece of candy from your own bowl of personal sweets stash. “Here,” 

“Candy?”

You nodded, humming softly. 

“Thanks,” his voice was quieter, sounding as if he was in disbelief. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes twinkled, a hint of fascination lingered. “I'll see you around, Y/N.”

“See you.”

That night, you laid awake replaying the encounter you had with Jay. It was the first time you've ever talked to him, and it was barely anything, but you somehow understood why people liked him by then. Not like you didn't like him initially, you meant, romantically.

It was definitely an odd place to meet and talk to him. Out of all the possible places, it just had to be your mother’s clinic that none of your peers came to once, that was until him. But somehow, it was the right timing despite the location. It was the wrong place at the right time.

Who knew his cold and your candy would soon start something neither of you expected.

“Do you wish you made out with him or something?”

Telling Yunjin about it was probably the best and worst idea. Sure, she could be a great moral support, except she lacked filters when needed.

“What the fuck—no!” You glanced around, hoping none of the passing students heard your stupid discussions. “He's hot but not like that, at all,”

“So you admit he's hot!”

You rolled your eyes, chucking the bag of Doritos back to her. “I never said he wasn't,”

“You intended it, said you didn't get the ‘hype’ around him,” 

“Until now!” You threw your hands up in surrender, only getting a cackle from Yunjin as a response. “Whatever. It's a one time thing. He's out of my league. It's a whole ‘You Belong with Me’ music video type of situation excluding me being friends with him,”

“You're yapping at this point,”

“Thanks, I know,”

“It's not that serious, Y/N. You fighting your life trying to defend yourself only makes it seem like you're in denial,” why must she always be on point?

“Whatever, whatever,” you waved her off, stubbornly ignoring what she said. “I'm at the back of the line anyway, I should be worrying about graduation and college,”

“Oh right!” Yunjin physically jumped, her backpack shook. “I need your opinion on something.”

That whole Jay discourse had swarmed your head that was currently leaning against the window. You purposely picked a seat by the window at the back of the class, hoping for some space to think since it was a class you didn't have with Yunjin. 

“A dollar for your thoughts?”

To your right stood Jay, shouldering his backpack and offering a warm smile. You knew you shared this class with him, but to have him walk up to you at that very moment was something beyond unexpected.

“Hey,” you greeted rather stiffly, not knowing what to do now that you were put under the spot. “W–what are you doing standing there?” Facepalm.

“Oh—do you mind if I sit beside you?” He pointed at the empty seat next to you, and you shook your head. You usually sat with random classmates anyway, having no close friends in this class was a struggle. 

Jay's face broke into a smile of relief, plotting his bag down before taking a seat. “Thanks, I don't really have anyone I know here,”

“You don't?” That's weird. You always noticed how people naturally swarmed around Jay's table, either greeting him or chatting with him.

“Not really. None of them are really my friends,”

But you were?

“You're a friend to me, though,” he added, as if reading your mind at that instant.

You were taken aback, but you hid it well, masking it with nonchalance. “Really?”

He nodded, a sincere smile that told you he meant it. You let yourself loose this time, reciprocating his smile. “I'm honoured,”

“I'm even more honoured.”

Throughout the class, you didn't miss the occasional glances from him and neither did you stop yourself from looking at him. He was much more breathtaking up close. Who were you to deny that?

By the end of the class, the bell rang and everyone started to pack up, some already rushing out in a hurry. You, on the other hand, was too caught up in your headspace to notice Jay was already done tidying up beside you and was waiting for his queue.

“Uh—Y/N?” he tapped you on your shoulder, stealing your attention at once. You stared at him expectantly, blinking with curiosity behind your eyes.

“Yeah?” You dragged the word out slightly, packing your last book into your bag.

“Would you like to go to a party this weekend?”

A party? That'd be your first.

“Where's that? Can I bring my friend too?”

“Yes and it's at Jake's house,” he winced, forgetting you're not one of those frequent party goers. “I'll text you the details—wait, I don't even have your number,” he laughed awkwardly, which only made you smile.

“Real smooth, Jay,” you signalled for his phone, and he grabbed it out of his jeans pocket without saying a word, eyes following your move as you typed in your number. 

When you handed his phone back, he didn’t hesitate to press the call button. Obviously, you heard your ringtone coming from your backpack. You glanced at Jay, giving him a face that was saying ‘really?’, quite incredulous that he’d doubted you. 

“Just wanted to be sure,” he smiled, scratching the back of his neck out of awkwardness. “I’ll make sure to text you,” he held his phone up, waving it a little and slowly getting up from his seat, to which you followed suit. At that moment, the classroom was already almost empty, so it was just a few lingering students with you and Jay, but it all felt like you were in a completely different universe altogether.

“Cool,” 

“Cool,” Jay echoed after you, and you resisted yourself from laughing. Apparently he noticed your tight smile and smiled along with you. Wordlessly, you two communicated through each of your smiles even as you walked side by side out the door. 

“Which way are you going?” he was quick to ask, eyes shining with expectations.

“I’m going that way,” you pointed to the right, down the busy corridor.

“Oh,” Jay visibly faltered, the expectations he held behind his gaze were crushed. “I’m heading that way,” he pointed to the left, the opposite direction of where you’re going. 

“I guess that’s it for today,” you patted his shoulder, unbeknownst to how Jay had froze under your touch for a second. “Until our next class together, then,”

“See you,” he waved, gradually backing away.

You couldn’t help but grin. “Bye!” 

You watched as he walked away, his back now fully facing you. It took you another beat before your feet were willing you away to where you were meant to go. But what you failed to realise as you concentrated on your steps was Jay turning his head back to catch a glimpse of you, his head only filled with the thoughts of you.

He’s so screwed.

Staying at the library was the last resort for you once you got to know Yunjin had an impromptu extra hour class after school. She promised she'd take you to the pool, considering the weather was only getting hotter day by day. But you suppose it'd have to wait for now.

What was worse, the heatwave or high school? Trick question.

The library was mostly empty by this hour, only a couple of students remained to either study or chill around just like you. It was one of those times where you wondered why you didn't explore more. As you wandered along the towering shelves filled with old books, you caught sight of an interesting looking one.

Instinctively, you pulled the book out of the shelf without thinking twice. But what caught your eyes wasn't the cover of the book or the book itself in general. Instead, it was the pair of eyes staring back at you through the small gap from where the book originally sat.

The most surprising bit of all was you knew and recognised who those eyes belonged to. Jay.

Your eyes widened, so did he once he saw your reaction. For some inexplicable reason, you stood up straight, unknowingly fixing your hair out of a nervous habit. 

You were nervous? It's just Jay. No, wait, that's probably why. It's Jay. How were you not going to feel nervous around him?

Quick, think! Were you going to find him in the next aisle or run away. Maybe not the latter. You turned on your heel and walked forward, deciding to find Jay and greet him out of courtesy. 

You were just about to turn the corner when you stumbled into the man you were looking for, perfect. Actually, not perfect. The moment you crashed into him, you stumbled into his chest and his hands flew up to catch you, the book originally in his possession dropped to the ground with a firm thud.

There you were, literally in his arms and looking frenzied. His wide eyes matched yours. It took a few beats and a moment for your mind to formulate what's happening for you to finally push yourself from him, absolutely flustered from embarrassment.

“Hey,” you dusted your front in an attempt to hide your burning cheeks.

“Hi,” he replied rather breathlessly, mirroring your rosy cheeks.

The book that fell to the ground suddenly became unimportant to Jay, but to you, it was a mark that was burning into the precious floorings. You moved fast and picked up the book, yet you weren't quick to hand it back, instead you took a look at it.

“Pride and Prejudice?” You noted from the old cover, then glanced at him, a glint of interest sparked. “Didn't know you're like that,” you extended the book out to him. 

He took the book back into his possession, smiling rather sweetly. “Literature is the death of me,”

“Isn't it a selective subject?”

“It is. I was an idiot for thinking I could hold on,” he rolled his eyes, making you giggle softly.

“I'm sure you will. You're—like—Einstein smart,”

“Are you trying to stroke my ego right now?” He crossed his arms, leaning onto the bookshelf ever so casually.

“No, I'm just pointing it out. You literally rank in the top 5 every year! It's annoying,”

“Is it so?”

“Very much,”

“Should I be flattered? I'm flattered,” he bowed dramatically, unable to hide his smug smile. It was your turn to roll your eyes, shaking your head at him. He only let out a laugh at your reaction. “What are you doing here at this time anyway?”

“Oh—Yunjin, my friend, had a random impromptu class so she had to stay back. I was waiting for her since she’s bringing me to go swim, but now I don’t know if that’s happening,”

“You could always stop by my place for a swim,”

You blinked, head tilting to one side. “What?”

Jay seemed to have become embarrassed judging from the reddening tips of his ears that you were (thankfully) oblivious to. “I have a pool, and my parents are out of town for maybe a few months or so for work, so it’s practically unused,”

“What about your friends? Don’t they go over to swim?”

“They do, but they’re looking to take more advantage of it by wanting to throw a party soon since my parents are away,” he grumbled in the last part.

“Well, are you?”

“I guess? I don’t mind it,” he hummed, bright eyes flickering to you. “Will you come if I do?”

“If I’m invited,”

“Obviously you are,” Jay said matter-of-factly, eyebrows raised. “So what do you say?”

“Sure,”

“Great. I’ll hold you to it,” he snapped his fingers, and was basically beaming now. It only made you form more visible heart eyes. “But for now, I’ll see you at Jake’s party,”

 “Deal.”

That day, you left the library with a lovesick smile instead of a book. You didn’t even get annoyed after knowing it was too late for a trip to the pool, and obviously Yunjin caught onto that. On the walk home, you thought about him and the party. Anxiety and anticipation were both building up, until he came up in mind again and everything disappeared.

You got lovestruck and it went straight to your head. It was almost the first time you’ve actually felt the way you’re feeling now, nobody had once made you fully experience every emotion of having a crush in your years in high school. No one was even capable of it, that was until Jay appeared into your life. 

Going to bed that same night, you thought of him again. At that point, you wondered if he would materialise in your bedroom from the amount of times you had him in your head. Maybe he’d be accidentally manifested into life. 

Tossing and turning, you kicked your feet at the imaginations you had of him. Upon realising your own behaviour, you covered your face with a pillow and screamed into it. Were you crazy? Oh my God, you were! 

Then it hit you.

You’re admitting this now. You like Park Jong Seong. 

“I can’t believe we’re here,”

Yunjin was currently having the best of her life even though nothing has happened yet and you both had just arrived at Jake’s house. 

The walk in was already shocking. On the lawn of Jake’s house were knocked out drunks, then by the door were people making out and doing weird things you didn’t want to think of again. You were surprised that everything happening before you was something you’ve seen in movies and you were actually experiencing that now. 

“Is this even … legal?” you glanced around, cringing at the tacky set ups and badly picked music in the background.

“No. But you’ve drunk before, so who are you to say?”

“Touche,” 

Wandering further into the house, you realised there were many people here, but you weren't surprised at all. Jake was a well known footballer anyway, how could he not be popular in the first place?

"Y/N!"

At the sound of your name being called, you looked over your shoulder to see Jay approaching you. His eyes carried the same kind of brightness he has around you, the corner of his lips were curved up into a wide smile. Let's not forget how he has his hair styled up at that moment. Was he expecting you to not feel anything?

"Jay! Hey," you waved meekly at him until he was standing before you. You noticed his gaze on your friend who was standing beside you, a look of unfamiliarity clearly written in his expressions. "This is Yunjin, by the way,"

Yunjin and Jay both greeted each other amicably, though a little awkward but it was natural for it to be like that. Jay turned to look at you, eyebrows raised. "This would be a great chance to introduce my friends but—"

"Jay!"

"I take that back," 

You and your friend exchanged a brief look, stifling your laughter at Jay's demeanour. He was flailing his hand to get his friend to come closer, and by then, you could recognise who it was. 

"Bro, why were you running around all night? Were you expecting someone—oh, hey," Jake, the host of the party and the popular footballer, had finally taken account of you and your friend's presence. "I'm Jake, nice to meet you,"

"Likewise, I'm Y/N,"

"Yunjin," 

"Y/N and Yunjin, you guys are new faces around here," 

"It's not really our scene," you nudged Yunjin a little, and she nodded in agreement. It's true, you and her equally preferred a night in with a romcom playing than this. But you'd make it an exception this time, and maybe the next time for Jay's party. 

"You're always welcomed. Any friend's of Jay or friend's of Jay's friend are welcomed to our party," Jake patted Jay's back, while the latter only rolled his eyes at his friend.

"Jake! Your toilet's clogged—" another one you recognised to be a part of the friend group appeared out of the blue. It was Sunghoon. Star hockey player and basically every girl's crush, he was known for his wits, charming good looks, and crazy hockey skills, duh. 

If you told yourself from months back that you'd somehow become friends with Jay and meet his friends, you'd think you're crazy. 

"Hey, sorry," Sunghoon winced, but gave Jake a pointed look after. Jake scoffed in annoyance, then left with a huff and a wave of goodbye to you and Yunjin. "Sorry 'bout that, I'm Sunghoon,"

"I'm Yunjin," when did she become this bold? Whatever it was, you were willing to support her.

"I'm Y/N," 

"You're Y/N?" Sunghoon gasped quietly, glancing between you and Jay, interest forming in his head.

Jay slapped the back of Sunghoon's head, and in the midst of the latter's grumbles, he could only smile awkwardly at you. "Shut up," he hissed to Sunghoon.

"First, ouch. Second, whatever," Sunghoon bumped Jay roughly with his shoulder. "Wanna get some drinks?"

"I'm fine, I'll pass. Maybe Yunjin can go along with you?" You eyed Yunjin, and you saw her giving you those 'i owe you my life' type of eyes. 

"Sure," Sunghoon smiled at Yunjin, but gave Jay a firm nudge, his gaze alone conveying the message. Apparently bro telepathy was a thing, because in a few seconds, he decided Jay was staying with you and wandered off along with your best friend. 

"It's just us two now," you said, as if it wasn't already obvious. 

"Yeah," Jay was equally stiff as you were. "Sounds crazy, but do you want to go up to the room? It's a little loud here,"

"I don't think it's 'a little' but totally, sure. Lead the way," you figured Jay was familiar with his way since it was quite literally his best friend's house.

He wordlessly took your hand and intertwined it with his. It was so casual and sudden that it was unexpected, knocking the breath out of you. He made sure you were walking in front of him the whole time, hand never leaving yours and only gripping tighter as he held you close to avoid the crowd. 

In a world of boys, he was a gentleman. 

He eventually brought you to a quiet room down the hall upstairs, into a bedroom that was decorated much simpler. You guessed it was the guest room, it would've made most sense. 

"Do you normally bring girls here?" 

Jay's face contorted into a mix of shock and disbelief, arms thrown into the air. "What—no!"

"Really?"

"What makes you think that?"

You shrugged, taking a seat on the bed. "I don't know? Well, everyone wants you—"

That was your crime.

"—you're popular, smart, cute, kind and—am I talking too much?" You paused, feeling the bed dip beneath you as Jay joined your side. 

"I like it," he hummed, turning to look at you. "I like you,"

You blinked. One second. Two seconds. 

"What?" Your eyes were widening, whereas Jay was just staring back calmly with an unwavering smile.

"I like you, Y/N," the confession rolled off his tongue like a secret he has been keeping for too long. The eyes that were searching for yours were filled with longing and hope.

Was this really happening right now?

"I like you too, Jay," 

It felt like the world had stopped and it was just you and him there. You were taking in his confession and so was he. It might've been silent but it was comfortable. 

"Can I—" he leaned in, but stopping just an inch away from your lips. You could feel his breath on yours, noses making contact. That was how close he was. 

"Yeah," 

Just before Jay could press his lips against yours, the door burst open and you jumped, literally. You heard a thud too, and realised Jay was on the floor. 

You turned to look at the door, finding the culprit standing there awkwardly. It was Jake, and he, too, was self aware that he had crashed an important private moment.

"Uh—I just wanted to find Jay…"

"Jake, if you don't close that door right now, I swear—"

Jay didn't even need to finish his sentence when Jake slammed the door shut, yelling out 'sorry's and saying he'd be waiting for Jay down the hall. Talk about awkward encounters. 

You locked eyes with Jay, who looked thoroughly embarrassed but also humoured. It didn't take long before you burst out laughing and he joined along. Soon, he returned to his original spot next to you too.

"That was … bad,"

"It was," you were fidgeting with your hands, suddenly nervous. "I guess the timing wasn't right,"

"It really wasn't,"

Silence fell between the two of you, and there was something in your mind that was bugging you. "Does this mean we're …?" You didn't need to finish what you were saying for Jay to get the meaning. 

"I mean, do you want to try it out first? We don't need to rush into anything, don't even need to be official. I just wanted you to know how I feel," 

"I can do slow," you nodded, catching a brief glimpse of Jay. 

"I'll always be waiting for you," Jay took your hand in his, and that was when you finally had the courage to meet his eyes again. "Whenever you're ready."

People say dating the popular guy was a bad idea, but for once, you were willing to let loose and give your heart a go.

Who knew the start of your newfound romance would soon blossom into a whirlwind of tears, love, and scandalous teen romance.

"So you're dating him now?"

Having Yunjin scream into your ear in the morning during the first period was not surprising. Maybe telling her everything over the phone and leaving her hanging wasn't the best idea. It wasn't your fault she was hungover anyway.

"Shush! Do you want everyone to know?"

"I'm sure everyone knows by now,"

You gave her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"Jake kinda saw you guys, then he blabbered it to Sunghoon, and I guess others heard it because he was not quiet about it,"

Jake. You heaved a sigh, shaking your head a bit. "We're not boyfriend girlfriend official, but just … trying things out, you know?"

"I know," Yunjin let out a satisfied hum. "I think he'd be great for you,"

"Really?"

"He's a nice guy, Y/N. Judging from his reputation, he seems like a good man," Yunjin practically gave you her seal of approval, and it left you feeling happy for the rest of the period.

That was until lunch break where everything fell apart way too fast.

Walking out to the cafeteria, you didn't think much about anything else as you listened to Yunjin rant about her latest online purchase. But the moment you heard Jay's name along with yours in passing, your ears perked up. You thought nothing of it, leading up to Kim Minjeong confronting you head on and you knew that's when you should start worrying.

"Are you … the one with Jay?" 

You glanced at Yunjin for a split second, anxiety bubbling in your stomach. "I guess?"

"You're a slut. Don't you know I have a thing for him? There's something call girl code—"

"Woah woah, wait, what? Look, we don't even know you like that," Yunjin quickly butt in upon seeing you fall silent. 

"Everyone knows me! Everyone knows Jay and I had a thing! What is it you want? His popularity? Money—"

"Shut up," 

Speaking of the devil.

"You okay?" Jay appeared by your side, gaze softening once it landed on you. "I was searching for you, didn't know this is happening,"

"I—"

"Jay! What are you doing? Why are you with her—"

"Can you just quit it? We've been through this many times, Minjeong. I don't like you and I never have, why can't you just accept it?" He sounded exasperated, almost as if he had been putting up with this for ages. "Put my girl's name out of your mouth and leave her out of this. She's the one I want, not you,"

The only way you could describe Minjeong's face there was rageful. Her expressions were contorted and her lips were etched into a frown. She knew she couldn't defend herself further, so she eventually left with a huff.

It was quite unsalvageable at that point and you felt yourself breaking down from the inside out. Even when Jay called your name, you only shrugged him off and brushed past him. The worst part of all: he didn't run after you either.

Great. Now you were going to spend the rest of the day mulling in bed.

That didn't last long either. Once you got into bed, ready to sleep away from the day's incident and think back to Yunjin's pep talk, you heard your phone buzz. Not once, but multiple times. Who was sending messages at that time? Of course, it had to be him.

jjongster: hey, can we please talk?

jjongster: like right now

you: right now?

jjongster: yeah, send me wherever you're most convenient to meet

This was stupid. Sneaking out of your room when it's dark out and meeting Jay down the street from your house. All when your emotions were not stable and set yet. You've sent him the address and now he's waiting there, standing by his car like a dream. 

"Hey," he called out softly as you walked closer to him. 

"Hi," you hated this, the sudden stiffness and awkwardness that got between you two, you shouldn't be suffering because of it.

"Sorry for asking you to come out this late," he was quick to apologise, taking a step closer to you. He was always so nice, so kind and loving. "I–it's just eating me up, and I really wanted to tell you—speak to you—in person. I wanted to see you,"

"It's okay, I get it. I'm sorry too, for leaving so abrupt and ignoring you. That was wrong of me to do," you were feeling guilty about what you did earlier, letting your emotions get the best of you and neglecting Jay.

"I understand, don't worry. Are you feeling okay? I didn't expect that to happen, I'm sorry,"

"Don't apologise, it's not on you," you brushed away the strand of hair that constantly fell onto your face, occasionally avoiding his stare. "And I don't know. I don't know how or what to feel,"

He frowned. "Tell me, tell me what's on your mind,"

"Jay, what if this was all a bad choice? You're you, and I'm … me. You're the golden boy, everyone wants you! Now they're talking behind our backs and all I do is hear rumours that aren't true, names being called …"

"It's not a bad choice, Y/N! I want you … so much. No one else compares. Can't you see that?" Jay moved closer to you, his hands now on both your shoulders. "Don't push me away now,"

Jay was taking his chance, and you thought it was a big mistake, but he doesn’t. It might blow up in his pretty face, and you didn’t tell him straight on to do it anyway, yet you knew he was going to and he wasn’t going to care what others think.

"I could never," you shook your head, welcoming his embrace as he pulled you in, and before you knew it, the tears you held in all day started streaming down your cheeks.

He held you there on the pavement as you broke down in his arms, his hold on you never once loosened. There that night, under the starry sky and illuminating street lights was a connection and trust formed unknowingly between you and him, love that blossomed like a flower in spring. 

"Gosh, I probably look stupid right now crying," you chuckled, pushing yourself slightly off of him to glance at his face. 

"You look pretty, gorgeous to me," his thumb travelled to your cheeks, wiping away the tears that remained. 

"I shouldn't have said that … us being a bad choice," you said quietly, cursing internally that you've even doubted it in the first place. "I trust you, Jay, I do,"

"Thank you," his hand travelled down to hold onto yours, a smile ever so soft. "We'll go at your pace. Whenever you're ready,"

"Whenever I'm ready." you repeated, unable to stop yourself from smiling either.

Jay knew he was already in deep, experiencing feelings he's never felt before in his eighteen years of life, but seeing you then, made him realise maybe young love was something to believe in. For once, he had a love to fight for. 

Jay was true to his words. He, in fact, did throw a party at his place. But what he didn't tell you was the cleaning up, and boy, was it a headache.

Once everyone had filed out a little after midnight, it was only you and Jay left. It was peaceful. In an empty house that had music blasting in the background, you and Jay each struggled to pick up all the rubbish strewn. You liked this. You like him.

It might've taken a while, but eventually you had the place cleaned, or at least, rubbish-less. There was probably more deep cleaning needed (that was for the next day to worry about). However, for now, it was finally just the two of you, and a whole lot of space with nothing to do.

"Wanna go for a dip?"

"Now?" You glanced at the clock, then back at Jay, who was trying to convince you with his starry eyes and nodding his head like an overly enthusiastic puppy. "Fine."

You didn't even know why you agreed to it. It was a lucky decision you brought an extra pair of everything since you were staying over. 

Jay was already in the pool, floating around when you walked out. The light coming from the pool was the only thing providing light. Blue reflection and wet messy hair made Jay increasingly dreamy, till the point where you stood there for a bit too long and he had to call for you.

"Coming!" You huffed, but the moment you reached the edge of the pool, you found yourself stuck and feeling nervous. 

The sight of Jay's bare front and your lack of clothing was nerve wracking to even think about. Your mind was in a fuzz even as you accepted his hand and let him pull you in, the cool water invading your senses. 

His arms came to wrap around your waist, the only thing you could hold for support was his bicep, so that was what you reached for. Jay didn't mind, he only held you tighter, a conspiring glare glazed over his eyes.

"Hey," he tilted his head, gaze travelling all over your features. You were close, very close. It was almost as if you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

"Hi," you whispered back. Your hand was on its own journey, absentmindedly moving to his shoulder.

You should be dying out of anxiety by now, or even freak the fuck out, yet, you successfully kept your composure, in front of a hot man. Hooray!

"How's the water? I swear it's clean. I gated it off before the party,"

You laughed, remembering how Jake was so insistent on keeping the pool part of the party. He claimed that a pool party was way cooler than just a regular party. Jay was not convinced.

"It's nice. Chilly," 

Jay nodded for a bit, pursing his lips, thinking for a beat. "I'm glad you were here today,"

"Why?"

"I just like having you here, that's all,"

"You're so cheesy, it's annoying," you joked lightheartedly, knowing you secretly enjoyed this side of him.

"Whatever, you tolerate it anyway,"

He was right, you did. Over the few months, you've grown to memorise and remember every part of Jay. His habits, his likings, et cetera. It was crazy how your relationship grew with time, but the much crazier part was the fact that you two had not gone official yet.

"Against my will,"

"That's a lie,"

"Whatever you say," you said in a sing-song tone, which only made Jay roll his eyes, reaching up to pinch your cheek. 

His gaze never left yours, not even once. It was trained on you, always had been and always will be. The eventual silence got to you, and it was just the distant noise of the water that filled the air.

It was one of those moments where you think 'was this real'. Spoiler: it was. He was testing the waters, you could tell, and you let him. 

Jay inched a little closer, eyes flickering between you and your lips. It was obvious that he was nervous from the shaky breath and wavering confidence, but it only made you more relieved. 

You let out a breath, meeting his lips halfway. At first, he was shocked, you were too, but for different reasons. Kissing him was a breath of fresh air. His lips moved against yours naturally as if it was his first instinct, like he has been waiting for this for ages, which was not entirely wrong. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss and you swore you felt yourself imploding.

The moment you two finally pulled away to catch your breath, you could only stare at him and hold onto him tighter as if you were afraid he might not be real. Jay chased after your lips, pressing haste pecks and smiling into every one of them. It was infectious, everything about him was and it had you intoxicated. 

You realised at that second that you’d be willing to go against the world for him if you had to. Even if someone called you a ‘slut’ again, maybe it’d be worth it for once, and you knew he’d always be right there to defend you.

“I'm ready,”

“Hm?” he was still in a haze, eyes staring back at you with more than love in them.

“I’m ready to be yours, Jay, I’m serious,”

“You are?”

He has never been so relieved and happy leading up till that moment, just having you in his arms was about to make him burst. All he needed was to see you nod and watch your lips mouthing ‘yes’ as a confirmation before lifting you up, arms tight around you. 

Under the moonlit swimming pool, you’ve never been happier.

The night might’ve already ended for others, but to you and Jay, it was still ongoing, and you wished for it to not end. So, there you were, in his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he lay beside you. There was barely any space between you and him, his hand brushed against yours from time to time, neither of you dared to move from your original position. 

Half asleep, you were taking your time to do something. You took the chance to move your hand closer and gently made contact with his. It didn’t even take a beat for him to lace his fingers with yours, his grip ever so firm, calloused skin against yours. You could tell Jay was equally drifting in and out of sleep as you were, mind in a haze but awake enough to comprehend that you were next to him and not a figment of his imagination.

“I’m in love with you,” 

It was faint, almost a whisper, but a mumble that was audible came from Jay. You turned your head to look at him, even under the dim lights, you were able to see that smile from him. The one that always made him look like a lovesick fool, that his friend would claim he’d have whenever he talked about you; it was a smile only reserved for you, and you were the cause of it too.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled out, eyes remained shut, but the smile stayed. 

“Goodnight.” 

There in the bed slept two young lovers, a fresh love that was unbreakable that connected the two of you together, all of it was fated. From the clinic to now, it might’ve started at the wrong place but it surely was at the right time, and you were glad to be next to him, hand in hand, anticipating what the future had in store for you two. 

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

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[mononijikayu]

ikaw lang— fushiguro megumi.

"Thanks. he muttered, his voice softer this time, almost shy. He still wasn’t used to letting people in, but for some reason, with you, it didn’t feel so bad. You smiled again, that same warm smile that made something inside him flutter. "Anytime." you replied, and Megumi knew you meant it. “Let me take care of you again, okay? When this happens.” “......You didn’t need to—” You shake your head, smile even wider.  “But I want to, okay?”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Fluff, Romance, First Love, First Meeting, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Friendship, Confessions, Humor, Mutual Affection, Love, Pining, Hugging, Mention of Injury, Mention of Fighting, Mention of Blood, Depiction of Medical Aid, Fushiguro Megumi is In Love, Sorcerer! Megumi, Non-Sorcerer!Reader, Megumi and Reader Are A Bit Older;

WORDS: 6.5k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this song is really cute. i should rest after this because ive been writing all the other poll related works and my eyes hurts. i might open commissions some time so i can get new glasses 🤔 but anyway, i hope you like this as much as i do. i love you so much 🫶

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if you want to, tip! <3

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HE WONDERS WHAT HE DID TO BE THIS HAPPY. Fushiguro Megumi often finds himself lost in thought, trying to piece together how he ended up with someone like you as his lover. It’s a mystery to him, one that he turns over and over in his mind, especially in the quiet moments when he watches you from across the room.

The two of you couldn’t be more different. Megumi has always been reserved, the kind of person who prefers the solace of a quiet corner, away from the spotlight. He’s never been one to seek attention, content to blend into the background, observing rather than participating. 

And then there’s you, today. The person he loves the most.

You, who are the complete opposite of everything he thought he needed. You walk into a room and light it up effortlessly, drawing people to you like a lighthouse in a rough storm. Your presence is magnetic, radiant—wherever you go, you leave a trail of warmth and joy, like the sun casting light on everything in its path. If the sun existed in Megumi’s universe, it would undoubtedly be you, the brightest star in his sky, illuminating even the darkest parts of his world.

Sometimes, Fushiguro Megumi wonders how someone like you could ever be drawn to someone like him. He’s not flashy, not outgoing or overly expressive. But then, you’ve never needed him to be. From the moment you met, you saw something in him that no one else did. You didn’t mind his quiet nature; in fact, you seemed to appreciate it, to cherish the way he found comfort in the shadows while you thrived in the light.

Every time Megumi sees you, his heart races uncontrollably. It’s a feeling he can’t quite describe, this mixture of awe and disbelief that he’s lucky enough to have you by his side. You have a way of making him feel things he never thought possible—emotions that run deep and wild, far beyond the calm exterior he usually shows the world.

And whenever you flash him that smile, the one he loves so much, he feels his composure slip. His face turns scarlet, his heart stumbles over itself, and he panics slightly, wondering how he’ll ever survive the intensity of his feelings for you.

But what truly leaves Megumi breathless are your eyes.

He’s always been captivated by them, even before he realized he loved you. There’s something in the way your eyes shine that draws him in, that makes him feel like he’s seeing something otherworldly. When you look at him, it’s like the rest of the world fades away, leaving only the two of you in a moment of pure, unfiltered connection.

Your eyes are windows to your soul, reflecting every emotion, every thought, every ounce of love you hold for him. And Megumi, who is often so unsure of himself, finds a sense of peace and belonging in those eyes. They are his sanctuary, his guiding light, the proof that he’s not alone in this world.

Sometimes, when you catch him staring, you’ll tilt your head and ask him what he’s thinking. And every time, Megumi struggles to find the right words, because how can he possibly explain the way you make him feel? How can he put into words the overwhelming mixture of gratitude, love, and fear that courses through him whenever he’s with you? All he knows is that, in those moments, he’s reminded of just how extraordinary you are, and how incredibly lucky he is to have you.

You are the sun in his universe, the brightest star in his sky, and with every passing day, Megumi falls deeper in love with you. And even though he’s not always able to express it, he hopes that when you look into his eyes, you can see just how much you mean to him—how much he adores every part of you, and how grateful he is to share his life with someone as wonderful as you.

Each time you raise your head and let Megumi gaze into your eyes, he’s struck by how they seem to shimmer with an otherworldly light. It’s not just the way they sparkle, but the depth and complexity they hold within them, as if your eyes contain entire galaxies, full of stars, planets, and endless mysteries.

To Megumi, your eyes are like a universe unto themselves—vast, beautiful, and impossible to fully comprehend. He can never quite find the words to describe the wonder they bring him, because, in truth, they’re unlike anything he’s ever known. They’re out of this world, something magical and extraordinary that he’s lucky enough to witness every day.

And every day, Megumi is reminded of just how fortunate he is to have you by his side. There are moments when he’s caught off guard by the simple yet profound realization that someone as remarkable as you chose him.

He’ll be lost in thought, or caught up in the routine of daily life, and then you’ll look at him, your eyes meeting his, and all those thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. In those moments, nothing else matters—just the connection between you, the unspoken bond that ties your hearts together.

Megumi finds that the most beautiful part of his day is when you look back at him. Your eyes, shining with a brilliance that words can’t quite capture, speak volumes in a language only the two of you understand. They tell him of the abundant love you hold for him, a love that fills his heart with warmth and light.

He’s always been shy, a little reserved, and sometimes he struggles to put his feelings into words. But when you look at him with those sparkling eyes, he wishes he could find the courage to tell you just how much it feels like heaven on Earth when you let him see the hearts hidden behind the bright beam of your gaze.

Megumi knows that you’re patient with him, that you understand his quiet nature, but sometimes he worries that he doesn’t show you enough how deeply he loves you. He wishes he could be more expressive, that he could find the words to tell you everything he feels.

But when words fail him, he hopes that you can see it in the way he looks at you—in the way his breath catches, in the way his heart races, in the way he’s completely and utterly captivated by you.

To Megumi, your eyes are not just beautiful—they are a reflection of the love you have for him, a love that he treasures more than anything in the world. Every glance you share, every moment your eyes meet his, is a reminder of how lucky he is to have found someone like you. And even though he may never fully grasp the magic you bring into his life, he knows that he will spend every day trying to show you just how much you mean to him.

To Megumi, it feels like stars might actually be falling from the sky, captured in the light of your gaze. Every moment he gets to see those eyes, he feels like he's witnessing something otherworldly, something that makes all the differences between you melt away, leaving only the overwhelming love he has for you.

Even though Megumi isn’t always good with words, he sometimes wishes that you could simply look into his eyes and just know that he loves you more than anything in the world. He hopes that you no longer feel the need to ask over and over, like you used to, because the truth is, you’re the only one he has ever truly loved—and the only one he ever will.

But sometimes, a nagging doubt creeps into his mind. He worries that his quietness might not be enough to convince you of how much you mean to him. He fears that he’s not doing enough to show you just how deeply he cares, because he struggles to express his feelings out loud. Yet, despite those fears, Megumi is determined to try harder, to find ways to show you his love so that you never have to doubt it.

If there were a way, Megumi wishes you could look into his heart and believe without a shadow of a doubt that you are the only one his heart has ever loved. And as he gazes at you now, he silently hopes that you can feel the depth of his affection in the way he looks at you, even if the words aren’t always there.

Fushiguro Megumi vividly remembers the first time he saw you for the first time. That was that day, during middle school. It was an ordinary day, and he wasn’t expecting anything to change. And for that change to be for the best.

He was known for being a bit of a loner, someone who kept to himself and occasionally got into trouble for his rebellious streak. He wasn’t exactly a model student, and most people gave him a wide berth, not wanting to get involved with someone who had a reputation for being a delinquent.

But then there was you, when you were younger.

He had just been reprimanded by one of the homeroom teachers for getting into another fight—something that had become more common as he struggled to navigate the challenges of his teenage years.

Or rather, just the annoyance he had for people he considered to be cruel, horrible people. But he supposed he was also angry, frustrated with the world, and on the verge of lashing out again when you approached him.

You were new, just transferred to the school, and Megumi was sure that you, like everyone else, would steer clear of him. But instead, you walked right up to him, your eyes full of concern rather than fear or judgment. You were like the sun blocking his eyes when he met you. You changed his whole world that day, he likes to think. 

"Hey! Are you okay?" you had said softly, your voice calm and soothing. "Oh no, you got some dirt on your shirt—is that a cut on your side?"

Fushiguro Megumi had been taken aback for a long time. The last time must have been when Gojo said he’s taking him and Megumi in. There were very few things that had Megumi fazed, stuck in his tracks, and at a loss for words.

Perhaps the act of kindness being shown to him was one of those points. But he doesn’t think you’ve blamed him. He wasn’t used to anyone talking to him like that—without the underlying wariness or caution. He didn’t know how to respond, so he just shrugged, trying to brush you off. 

“I’m fine.” he muttered, his tone gruff, hoping you would just drop it and leave him alone. "Don't worry about me. Move on."

But you didn’t leave. Instead, you stood your ground, your eyes filled with a concern that he hadn’t seen in a long time. It was as if you could see right through his tough exterior, straight to the part of him that was hurting, and you weren’t about to let it go unnoticed. You shook your head, your hands reaching out to gently tug at his sleeves, drawing his attention back to you.

When he finally looked at you, he was surprised to find that you seemed more distressed about his well-being than he was. There was a softness in your gaze, mixed with a quiet determination that caught him off guard.

"It doesn’t look like it! See? It hasn’t stopped bleeding. you replied gently, your voice free of any reproach, but filled with genuine worry. 

Megumi followed your gaze to the cut on his arm, a wound he hadn’t given much thought to in the heat of the moment. But seeing the concern etched on your face made him pause.

You hesitated for a moment, as if unsure of how to proceed, before speaking again. "But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. I just… I just wanted to make sure you’re alright." 

“Don’t worry about me—”

Your voice wavered slightly, betraying the depth of your concern, and it made something inside Megumi’s chest tighten. "At least maybe let me help you clean that nasty cut."

Megumi blinked, taken aback by your persistence. He was used to people either ignoring him or chastising him for getting into trouble, but you were different. You weren’t trying to fix him or tell him what to do—you were simply offering to help, to be there for him in a way that no one else had been. It was a kindness he wasn’t used to, and he didn’t quite know how to respond.

For a moment, he considered brushing you off, telling you he didn’t need any help, that he could handle it on his own. But something in your eyes stopped him. There was a sincerity there, a genuine desire to take care of him, and it made him realize how rare it was for someone to care like that.

"Fine." he finally grumbled, though his voice had lost its earlier edge. He couldn’t quite bring himself to meet your gaze, instead focusing on the ground as he added, "But it’s really not that bad."

You didn’t seem convinced, but you didn’t push him further. Instead, you smiled—a small, relieved smile that made his chest feel warm in a way he wasn’t used to. "Let’s just get it cleaned up, okay?" you said softly, leading him to a nearby bench.

As you carefully tended to his wound, Megumi found himself stealing glances at you, wondering why you cared so much. You were new to the school, new to his world, and yet here you were, going out of your way to make sure he was alright. It was strange, but also… comforting.

"Why do you care?" he asked quietly, surprising even himself with the question. It wasn’t something he’d meant to say out loud, but now that the words were out there, he couldn’t take them back.

You paused, looking up at him with those kind, worried eyes. "Because you deserve it." you replied simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Everyone deserves to be cared for, you know?"

Your words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, Megumi didn’t know what to say. He’d never thought of himself as someone who deserved kindness, especially not from someone like you. But hearing you say it so matter-of-factly made him wonder if maybe, just maybe, you were right.

You took Megumi to the nurse’s office, your concern evident in every step you took. He had tried to brush off the cut on his arm as no big deal, but you weren’t having any of it. As you entered the office, you headed straight for the supply cabinet, rummaging through it to find the emergency kit.

Megumi watched you with a mixture of apprehension and admiration. His face was tense, a mixture of discomfort and embarrassment clearly visible. He had never been one to draw attention to himself, especially not for something he considered minor. Yet here you were, focused and determined to make sure he was taken care of.

You pulled out the first aid kit and set it on the counter, your hands moving quickly and efficiently. “Alright, let’s get this cleaned up,” you said, your voice steady and reassuring.

Megumi shifted uncomfortably, clearly aware of the fuss you were making. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble. It’s just a scratch,” he muttered, trying to downplay the situation.

You gave him a stern look as you began to clean the cut. “It’s not just a scratch if it’s bleeding. Besides, it’s my job to make sure you’re okay. You’ve been taking care of everyone else, so let me take care of you for once.”

He sighed, though he couldn’t help but feel a little comforted by your persistence. As you carefully applied the antiseptic and bandaged his arm, Megumi stole glances at you, noticing the focused expression on your face. Despite his initial resistance, he was grateful for your concern.

“You really don’t have to do this,” he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time.

You glanced up at him with a small, reassuring smile. “I know, but I want to. You’ve always been there for me, and it’s only fair that I return the favor. Besides, you look like you’re in no condition to argue right now.”

Megumi managed a small, appreciative smile despite his discomfort. “Thanks. I guess I’m just not used to this… kind of attention.”

You finished wrapping the bandage and patted his shoulder gently. “Well, get used to it. Because I’m not going to let you get away with not taking care of yourself. And don’t think I won’t be checking on you if you ever get hurt again.”

He looked at you, the tension in his face easing as he met your gaze. “I’ll try not to get hurt then. Or at least try to let you know before it gets this bad.”

You laughed softly, your eyes crinkling with warmth. “Good. And remember, if you ever need anything—whether it’s help with a cut or just someone to talk to—I’m always here for you.”

Megumi’s heart swelled with a mix of gratitude and affection. Even though he had tried to downplay the situation, your unwavering concern made him feel valued in a way he hadn’t felt before. He knew that no matter what happened, he could always count on you to be by his side.

As you finished bandaging his cut, Megumi felt a strange sense of calm settle over him. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel so alone. Maybe it was because of the way you looked at him, or the way you didn’t push him to talk about things he wasn’t ready to share. Or maybe it was just because you were there, offering your help without expecting anything in return.

"Thanks....I guess." he muttered, his voice softer this time, almost shy. He still wasn’t used to letting people in, but for some reason, with you, it didn’t feel so bad.

You smiled again, that same warm smile that made something inside him flutter. "Anytime." you replied, and Megumi knew you meant it. “Let me take care of you again, okay? When this happens.”

“......You didn’t need to—”

You shake your head, smile even wider.  “But I want to, okay?”

He didn’t know how to reply. He rubs the back of his neck. “You’re a weird one.”

“EH!? But I’m not!”

As the two of you sat there, the world seemed to quiet down around him, leaving only the gentle presence of the person who had somehow managed to slip past his defenses and show him a kindness he hadn’t realized he was missing.

Megumi didn’t know what to say. He was used to people either avoiding him or giving him grief for his behavior, but you were different. You weren’t trying to lecture him or push him away. You were just… there, offering your kindness without expecting anything in return.

From that day on, you always treated him with the same patience and understanding, even when he continued to get into trouble. You never judged him, never scolded him. Instead, you listened, offering support when he needed it and giving him space when he didn’t. You seemed to see past the rough exterior, recognizing that there was more to him than just the delinquent reputation he had built.

At first, Megumi didn’t understand why you were so kind to him. He didn’t think he deserved it, and part of him expected you to give up on him eventually. But you never did. No matter how many times he got into trouble, you were always there, offering him a smile or a word of encouragement.

Slowly, he began to soften around you. He started to look forward to the moments when you would seek him out, your presence becoming a source of comfort in his otherwise turbulent life. You became his anchor, the person who made him believe that maybe he wasn’t as bad as he thought.

It wasn’t long before Megumi realized that his feelings for you had grown into something deeper. At first, he had tried to convince himself that what he felt was simply gratitude, an appreciation for the way you treated him with such genuine care and respect. But as time passed, he found himself thinking about you more and more, his thoughts lingering on the little moments you shared.

Like that time in the library, when you had insisted on helping him with his homework. Megumi had been struggling with a particularly difficult problem, his frustration mounting with each failed attempt to solve it. You had noticed his struggle and quietly slid your chair closer to his, gently guiding him through the problem with a patience that both surprised and comforted him.

“There, see? You’re getting it!” you had said, a bright smile lighting up your face as you watched him work through the problem.

Megumi had looked at you then, really looked at you, and something inside him had shifted. It was the way you had been so kind, so encouraging, without a hint of judgment or condescension. The way you had treated him like he mattered, like you genuinely wanted to see him succeed. It was a feeling that was foreign to him, yet it warmed him from the inside out.

Another moment had come when the two of you were walking home from school. It had started to rain unexpectedly, and Megumi had cursed himself for not bringing an umbrella. But before he could worry too much, you had pulled out your own and held it over both of you, smiling up at him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Come on, let’s share. Can’t have you getting soaked.” you had said, your voice cheerful despite the downpour.

As the two of you walked side by side, your shoulders brushing occasionally, Megumi had felt his heart do a strange little flip. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, noticing the way the raindrops clung to your hair, how your smile remained unwavering despite the weather.

In that moment, something had clicked for him. It wasn’t just your kindness that drew him to you—it was the way you made him feel safe, understood, and… cared for.

The realization had hit him one afternoon when you both were at the park. You had been talking animatedly about something, your hands gesturing as you spoke, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

Fushiguro Megumi had been content to just listen, watching the way your expressions changed with every word. And then, without warning, you had turned to him, catching him completely off guard with a look of such warmth and affection that it nearly knocked the breath out of him.

“What?” you had asked, laughing lightly when you noticed the way he was staring.

Megumi had opened his mouth to respond, but no words had come out. Instead, he had felt a strange mix of emotions bubbling up inside him—nervousness, excitement, something that felt suspiciously like hope. It was then that he realized: this wasn’t just friendship or simple admiration. It was something deeper, something more.

He liked you. A lot.

The thought had sent a rush of warmth through his chest, leaving him both exhilarated and terrified. Megumi wasn’t used to these kinds of feelings, and he wasn’t sure what to do with them. But as he looked at you, standing there with that bright smile on your face, he knew one thing for certain—he wanted to be around you, to make you smile like that as often as he could.

“Nothing.” he had finally managed to say, a small, shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was just… thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” you had asked, tilting your head curiously.

Megumi had hesitated for a moment, but then he had decided to be honest, even if he couldn’t say everything that was on his mind. “About how… I like spending time with you.”

Your smile had grown even brighter at his words, and you had reached out to lightly punch his arm in that playful way you always did. “Well, I like spending time with you too, Megumi.”

And just like that, Megumi had known that he was done for. He liked you—really liked you. And even though the thought scared him, it also filled him with a strange sense of happiness, one that he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before. From that moment on, Megumi couldn’t deny it anymore. He liked you, and he wanted to see where these feelings would take him.

Looking back, Megumi often finds himself reflecting on how profoundly different his life might have been if you hadn’t approached him that day. It was a pivotal moment, one that he now sees as the turning point in his journey.

Before you, he had felt like a perpetual outsider—misunderstood, labeled as a troublemaker, and largely ignored by those around him. He had been resigned to his role, to the way people saw him, without much hope for change or growth.

But then you came into his life, a beacon of kindness and patience in a world that had been mostly indifferent. You saw something in him that no one else had—a potential for change, a person worth caring for. Your approach had been gentle but resolute, offering him a friendship and understanding that he hadn’t known he needed.

You didn’t judge him for his mistakes or his quiet demeanor; instead, you reached out to him with a genuine concern for his well-being. It was this unassuming kindness that started to crack open the hardened shell he had built around himself.

Now, years later, Megumi often wonders if he would have ever found the strength to change if it hadn’t been for you. He thinks about the way you had treated him back then, how your unwavering support had slowly begun to reshape his view of himself.

It was as if you had quietly whispered to him that he was worth something, that he had the potential to be better, and that there was more to him than just the surface-level troubles. And in doing so, you had planted a seed of hope and self-worth that gradually grew into something stronger and more resilient.

As the two of you sit together now, the evening sun casting a warm, golden glow through the window, Megumi can’t help but be reminded of how far he’s come. The comfort and familiarity of your presence have become a cherished part of his life.

He often steals glances at you, unable to fully comprehend just how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side. The way you’re sitting there, so effortlessly at ease, makes his heart swell with a deep affection that words can hardly capture.

You’ve caught him staring more than once, and each time, you respond with that soft, knowing smile that makes his heart skip a beat. It’s a smile that reassures him, that reminds him of the love that started on that day in junior high, when you saw him not as a problem or a troublemaker, but as someone worthy of care and respect. That smile, simple yet profound, continues to be a source of comfort and joy for him, a daily reminder of how much you mean to him.

In those moments, as he looks at you and sees the warmth in your eyes and the gentle curve of your lips, Megumi is filled with a deep sense of gratitude. He thinks about how his life might have been different without your influence, and he realizes just how much you’ve changed him. The love he feels for you is rooted in that initial connection, and it has only grown deeper and stronger with time.

Megumi knows now that the love he has for you began with that first act of kindness you showed him, and it has only been enriched by the years you’ve spent together. As he sits there beside you, basking in the glow of the setting sun and the warmth of your presence, he can’t help but feel that he has found something truly extraordinary—something that started with a simple gesture of care and has blossomed into a love that he never thought possible.

You lean in slightly, noticing how quiet he’s been. "Megumi. Oiiiiiii, Megu–Megu~ Gumiiiiii!”

He sighed, looking at you. You have energy again, after resting. “What is it?”

“You truly okay?" you ask, your voice gentle and inviting.

He hesitates, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "It’s nothing. Don’t worry about me.” he mumbles, looking down at his hands, fidgeting slightly. "Just thinking about the past. Nostalgia."

You tilt your head, your eyes sparkling with curiosity and affection. You smiled. "You’re always so cute, Megumi.” You sighed, as you reached out gently to touch his hand. ”You’ve been staring at me all evening. If you have something to say, you can tell me, okay?”

Megumi swallows, gathering his courage. "It’s just… your eyes…" he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. "They’re… really beautiful. And just…..you. I think how lucky I am to be with you.”

You blink in surprise, not expecting such a heartfelt compliment from him. "Oh, my beloved Megumi." you murmur, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Thank you."

Megumi slowly looks up at you then, his own eyes filled with a tender sincerity that makes your heart flutter. He took a breath before letting his eyes wander at the sight of you, his beloved marvel. His wonder in life. He gives you a faint smile. 

"When you look at me like that… it feels like I’m seeing stars." he continues, his voice growing softer, more vulnerable. "Like… every time I see your eyes, it’s the most beautiful part of my day. And… I don’t know how to say this right, but… it’s like there’s love shining behind them, so much that it feels like heaven."

Your heart swells with emotion, and you squeeze his hand gently. You lifted his hand to your lips and looked at him tenderly as you pressed your lips against the top of his hand. He doesn’t know when his heart will calm down. But when it’s you, he doubts if it will ever happen. 

"Megumi, that’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me." you reply, your voice filled with warmth. "And just so you know, when I look at you, I feel the same way. You make every day feel like the brightest one I’ve ever had. Because when I look at you, I ask, ‘how did I deserve this boy?’ Because, you’re too good to me.”

He smiles shyly, his blush deepening as he takes in your words. "I’m glad….that you feel like I do too." he murmurs, his fingers intertwined with yours.

"I always will." You reassured him, grinning at him lovingly.

"I… I’m not good with words, but I want you to know how much you mean to me. Every time you look at me, it’s like… it’s like I’m the luckiest person in the world."

You lean in closer, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "You don’t have to say much, Megumi. I can see it in your eyes too." you whisper, your breath warm against his skin. “That’s more than enough for me, know that. Okay?”

Megumi’s heart swells, and for a moment, he forgets about his usual shyness. "I love you." he says softly, the words slipping out before he can stop them. “More than you’ll ever know.”

Your smile widens, your eyes shining even brighter. "I love you too, Megumi." you reply, your voice filled with the same sincerity and warmth that he sees in your gaze every day.

And in that moment, with your hands intertwined and your eyes locked, Fushiguro Megumi knows that there’s nothing more beautiful than the love you both share. And he truly believes that. He thinks that you’re the love of his life. And he has no intention of letting you go.

Megumi's heart races as the words hang in the air between you. He's never been the best at expressing his feelings, but something about being with you makes it easier—like the words come naturally when you're around. You pull back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes again, your own filled with the same warmth and love that makes his heart flutter. 

"You know, Megumi." you start, your voice soft and affectionate, "I always feel like I’m the luckiest person too. Because even when you're quiet or shy, I can feel everything you don’t say in the way you look at me. It’s like you’re telling me a million things with just a glance."

He bites his lip, trying to find the right words to respond. "It’s hard for me to… say things out loud sometimes. And it’s hard to be honest at times." he admits, his gaze lowering for a moment before meeting yours again. "But when I’m with you, it feels different. Because when I’m with you, I’m just….me.”

You smile at him, a soft, understanding smile that makes him feel even more at ease. "You don’t have to say everything, Megumi." you reassure him. "I can see it in your actions, in the way you care for me, and in those beautiful eyes of yours. You’re always telling me how you feel, even when you think you’re not. I love that about you, don’t worry.”

Megumi blushes, the compliment making him feel a mix of embarrassment and joy. "You… you think my eyes are beautiful?" he asks, his voice small, almost disbelieving.

"Of course I do." you reply, leaning in to rest your forehead against his. "They’re one of my favorite things about you. They’re so expressive, even when you’re being quiet. I can always tell what you’re feeling just by looking into them. Your eyelashes too. They’re always pretty!”

His breath hitches at the closeness, your words making his heart swell with emotion. "I… I’m glad you think that." he murmurs, his eyes locked onto yours. "Because… When I look at you, I see everything I could ever want.”

Your heart skips a beat at his confession, and you close the small distance between you, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. It’s soft, sweet, and full of the love that you both share, a love that needs no words to be understood.

When you pull back, you see that Megumi’s face is a deep shade of red, but there’s a small, content smile on his lips that makes your heart soar. "You really know how to say the perfect thing, don’t you?" you tease lightly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face.

He chuckles softly, his shyness momentarily forgotten as he looks at you with nothing but affection. "Only because it’s you." he replies, his voice steady and full of sincerity. "You make it easy."

You both sit there for a moment, just enjoying the comfort of each other’s presence. Megumi’s hand is still entwined with yours, and he gives it a gentle squeeze, as if to remind himself that this is real—that you’re real, and that you’re his.

"I never thought I’d be this happy, you know?" he admits quietly, almost as if he’s afraid that saying it out loud might break the spell. "But with you… it’s like every day is a dream."

You smile, your heart swelling with love for the boy who, despite his quiet demeanor, has given you more happiness than you ever imagined. "Then let’s keep dreaming together, Megumi." you whisper, leaning in for another kiss. "Because I never want this to end."

The warmth of the setting sun bathed the room in a golden hue, casting a gentle glow that seemed to amplify the intimacy of the moment. Megumi and you were nestled comfortably together, sharing a quiet sense of peace that had settled between you. This was paradise, Megumi thinks. This was heaven on earth. You and you alone, in his arms — he could not ask for anything more.

Megumi glanced at you again, his eyes reflecting the soft light. “What good did I do to be with you?”

You tilted your head, smiling at him with a mixture of curiosity and affection. “Why do you say that? What makes you feel that way? You did everything good. You do deserve me."

He hesitated, his gaze falling to the floor as he tried to find the right words. “It’s just… you’ve always been there for me, even when I didn’t really know what I needed. I was so closed off and messed up back then. But you saw something in me, something I didn’t even see in myself.”

You reached out, gently placing your hand on his cheek to lift his gaze to meet yours. “I saw a person who needed kindness and understanding, and I’m really glad I could be there for you. But you did the hard part, Megumi. You changed and grew, and that’s all you.”

He shook his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I couldn’t have done it without you. And now, every day with you feels like a gift. I keep thinking about how different things could have been if you hadn’t come into my life. It’s overwhelming sometimes.”

You chuckled softly, your fingers brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Well, I’m glad I did. And I’m glad you’re here with me now. It’s like we were meant to find each other, don’t you think?”

Megumi nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, it does feel like that. I keep thinking about how we met and how everything just seemed to fall into place after that. It’s like you were the missing piece I didn’t know I needed.”

Your eyes sparkled with affection as you leaned closer. “And you were the person who showed me what it means to be patient and understanding. We’ve both learned so much from each other.”

He smiled, a rare, genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “You’ve made me a better person. I feel like I’ve become more open, more willing to trust and care. It’s all because of you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you wrapped your arms around him in a gentle hug. “I’m just glad I could be a part of your journey. And I’m excited for everything that’s still to come for us.”

Megumi returned the hug, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. “Me too. I want to make sure I’m always there for you, supporting you just like you’ve supported me. I don’t want you to ever doubt how much you mean to me.”

You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, a soft smile playing on your lips. “You don’t have to worry about that. I know exactly how much I mean to you. And I’ll always be here for you, just like you’ve always been there for me.”

As the two of you sat together, the warmth of the setting sun casting a gentle glow over the room, Megumi felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. He knew that with you by his side, every day would be brighter, every challenge more bearable.

And as he looked into your eyes, he realized that the love he felt was a constant, reassuring presence—one that made everything feel right in the world.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + thirty six

authors note: see at end of chapter.

cw/tw: angst, graphic violence, gore, torture, attempted and real violence against women and children, scenes depicting sexual assault.

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

***gif credit goes to @romanreigns ***

cast+ masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 16k 

The minute the call with Domingo Lopez ends, the shock of the unexpected alliance and support weighs only for a couple minutes among the group. And, then it's gone. They can process that shit later. Roman can process that shit later. Right now, it’s time to plan and strategize.

And, they do, Steve eventually coming back in the room, only to remind them that whatever weapons, whatever guns, whatever they need from his massive collection, is theirs for the taking.

It’s deeply appreciated.

And, the assistance doesn’t stop there. 

Because as the group begins to gather around the table, the front door is opened, an almost deep yet feminine voice sounding from the foyer. “Dad, why the fuck are there—”

Roman takes in the sight of a young woman, tall in stature, defined muscles evident in the all black, gothic outfit she wears. Short black hair frames a pale face that’s covered in dark makeup. She looks skeptical of the group until she sets her gaze on Dwayne, of all people, smiling almost immediately. “Uncle Dwayne.”

At that, Roman scowls. 

Uncle Dwayne?

What the fuck?

Dwayne chuckles, stepping forward offering a hug to the witch looking kid. “Rhea.” He pulls back, shooting her a wink. “You brutalize anyone lately?”

“Among other things,” she smirks, gesturing to the group. “What’s all this?”

Putting two and two together, Roman would gather that this Rhea woman is Steve’s daughter. How, given she has a thick ass British or Australian sounding accent, and Steve is a country boy from Texas through and through, Roman hasn’t the slightest clue. 

Nor does he really care enough to try to figure shit out. 

“I’m in.”

Rhea’s statement directs his attention back to the scene at hand. He looks over at Dwayne. “What?”

“Women and children have been taken, right?” She asks, looking directly at Roman, not an ounce of fear or trepidation in sight. If not for the nature of his current situation, Roman might be a little impressed. Elvira's long lost daughter has got some balls. Rhea scowls. “Men already piss me the fuck off, but men who go after the innocent deserve a special place in hell.”

She looks between Dwayne and Roman, vowing, “you need an extra killer. You got one.”

Roman’s reluctance is clearly evident, as his older cousin gives him a slow, knowing nod. She’s good.

Once more, Roman finds himself having to lower his defenses, accepting and allowing help from the least expected sources.

“Fine.”

Not even twenty minutes later, the group, including Rhea, sans Austin, hover around the dining room table, planning and strategizing. “Alright,” Dwayne starts, iPad in hand showing a dated map and layout of the plant. The same layout that’s on the screen of both laptops on the table, providing all with a view. “Looks like there’s a couple entrances in and out of this place, but this one right here…..” He points to the largest space that provides a direct line to the biggest building on the property. “That’ll be our best way in. The core group.”

Santos is in deep thought, offering a valid question. “You don’t think we should utilize the the other entrances.” All eyes settle on him as he clarifies, “feels too obvious to use the front door. We’d be stepping right into heavy fire.”

“No, we won’t,” Roman supplies. It’s the first thing he’s said in a good ten minutes. “He wouldn’t risk killing me on the spot. He wants to make a spectacle of it.”

No one needs to ask who the he is. 

“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” Cody speaks up, and Roman makes zero effort in hiding his displeasure. “Bron and Solo want an audience. Killing us the minute we step foot there would deprive them of that.”

Dwayne nods, continuing to strategize. “Main team uses the front door. Several other teams will use the alternative entrances, work their way in to take out as many men as possible.”

“We’ll need snipers,” Matteo speaks up, arms crossed as he too carefully studies the map. “Solo might be stupid to underestimate Roman, but he’s not an idiot. He’ll have snipers in place.”

Roman says nothing, silently agreeing. 

The Bloodline has some of the best goddamn snipers around. If Solo was too dumb to think they’d be useful, he can almost bet Rikishi talked him into it.

“That won’t be a problem,” Santos speaks up, gesturing to the two men who arrived with him. “Angel and Berto are some of the best long range shooters you could ever come across. They don’t miss.”

“Neither do I,” Afia chimes, a knowing, telling, almost graceful smirk on her face as she looks over at Rhea. “How’s your aim?”

Rhea smirks, answering without a beat and with all the confidence that seems to match. She just looks like a person who can back up anything and everything she says. “You give me a target. I’ll get you a hit.”

Afia nods, saying nothing but believing it fully. The young woman reminds her a lot of herself in her youth. Ravenous and blood thirsty.

She’ll be a great asset for the mission.

“Looks like we got that sorted,” Matteo chuckles darkly, though not surprised at his wife’s proposal. As much as Afia enjoys motherhood and her retirement, he can’t imagine her spending as much time as she did out in the field and not missing some aspect of it. Not to mention, this is personal. He knows how close his wife has gotten to Solana, and she would be torn up if something happened to her.

But, even more, she’s livid that Solana was taken in the first place and wants her pound of flesh.

A shared sentiment.

“We still need to figure out our teams,” Dwayne announces, keeping everyone on track. A necessity, as the reinforcements should be arriving in a little under an hour. “Obviously, myself, Roman, and Matteo—Afia, you and Rhea can join us when you’re done lighting up the bastards from the sky.”

The two women share a smirk and fist bump, the younger of the two acknowledging, “with pleasure.”

Dwayne shakes his head, keeping his comment to himself as he continues to plan, “Rhodes, you’ll also be with us—”

“The fuck he will.” Roman shuts that shit down immediately, all sets of eyes on him as she practically growls, “he’s not fucking coming with us.”

“The fuck I’m not,” Cody is quick with the rebuttal, not allowing anyone else time to intercede and defuse. “Bron has my wife and daughter!”

Words that go in one ear and out the other, the true Tribal Chief acridly dismissing, “you think I give a fuck about that?” There’s a level of complete disinterest Roman has in anything regarding Rhodes and the Rhodes family right about now. His one and only concern is Solana, and he reiterates as such. “They could fucking die for all I care. This is about rescuing my wife. Not your family.”

And without skipping or missing a beat, Cody’s dark, chilly retort is delivered without any hesitation. “The same way you rescued your family that night?”

It’s nothing short of a miracle the way Dwayne is able to intercede, blocking Roman from flipping over the table and using Rhodes as target practice for what he plans to do to Solo.

Matteo extends an arm across Cody, who stupidly seems unaffected or bothered by Roman’s full intent to murder him right here on the spot.

“That’s enough,” Afia’s voice cuts through the chaos of Roman working to break free from his older cousin and wipe that smug smirk off Rhodes fucking face.

Or just blow his head off altogether.

Either option is equally acceptable.

She says something in a language he can’t understand but can guess by the scowl on her face is nothing nice. “You’re acting like children. Now, there’s clearly a story here, but I don’t give two fucks about that story. Do you want to know why?” She points to the table where the laptops remain open. “Because three innocent lives are at stake. Your families have been taken. The women you love.” Her gaze softens a bit. “Children.”

It’s that last single word that has Roman’s full attention. It could easily be a reference to Cody’s daughter. A general statement, but Roman knows better.

Afia knows Solana is pregnant.

Knows that Roman stands to not only lose his wife but his unborn daughters.

It’s a brutal but necessary reminder of what’s at stake and the importance of the situation.

“She’s right,” Matteo speaks up, taking over for his wife, lowering his arm at the same time Dwayne releases Roman. “You two can hate each other until kingdom come after all of this is over, but until then, shut the fuck up, swallow your fucking pride, and let’s get back to business.”

There’s something about Matteo’s tone, final and almost parental, that reels in the divergence from the main goal at hand.

He’s right. Roman knows as such.

He will forever hold a special, unhealthy amount of hatred in his heart toward the man across from him, but that’s not important right now.

He can’t allow that unforgiving, unrelenting, pulsing hatred to distract him from what’s most important. And, what’s most important is bringing Solana back home, safe and sound. 

Alive.

Bringing her back alive.

Dwayne continues to spearhead in a sense, with occasional suggestions and ideas from the group, with Roman only chiming in when someone mentions Solo.

“He’s mine.”

A command that no one dares to defy. No one questions, and no one objects. Universal recognition that the only one who will spill Solo’s blood and be the one to cause him to take his final breath is the man most harmed in all of this.

Roman.

This is Roman’s kill to make.

A life for his to take.

In every brutal, gruesome way he can imagine.

Other than Roman’s one interjection, occasional head nods of agreement or acknowledgment, he’s silent and remains that way as he slips away while Steve offers the group their selection of whatever firearms and weapons they feel appropriate from his sizable armory. A separate building on the property.

But, Roman remains in the main house, finding his way outside as he sits on the steps and looks at his phone for the first time. 

A phone that’s been lit up with unaddressed notifications all day. Primarily from two people.

Jimmy and Naomi.

Calls, texts, voicemail messages. Several, multiple, outreach attempts, a brief perusing of some of the texts revealing intense and urgent concern. From the messages alone, it would appear that they have no idea what’s happened.

The betrayal that’s occurred.

A part of Roman believes it. A part of him can’t. He can’t because Roman knows how close that family is. They’ve always been close-knit. Primarily Rikishi and his sons. Thus, Roman can’t conceptualize how Jimmy could truly be in the dark, even Naomi. 

He wonders if it’s a ruse of sorts but can’t figure out why and for what reason. Solo knows Roman is coming. He wants Roman to come, so what reason would there be for him to have his brother play dumb, borderline harassing Roman with question after question about what’s just going on.

It’s confusing as shit, and while he hates to admit it, it bothers him.

It shouldn’t, but it does, and Roman knows that he needs answers. He needs answers to melt away the cloudy haze that sidetracks his vision. 

He has to know if the betrayal truly was full circle. If everyone he once thought he could trust is now forever stamped with the bleeding, red letters that spell out traitor.

Roman navigates to Jimmy’s contact, hitting dial without second thought.

Time is not on his side, and he needs to get this done. He needs to get it done now.

Two rings later and a flustered, panicked sounding Jimmy. “Roman?” 

The Tribal Chief hesitates, eventually offering a simple, “it’s me.”

Jimmy curses on the other end, immediately shouting for Naomi before returning his focus. “Man, I been trying to reach you all damn day. What the hell is going on?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, anxiously listing off all the things. “ I went to your office, and all they could tell me is you left this morning and ain’t nobody seen or heard from you since. We saw there was an attack at the library where Solana works, and we tried to go over there, but wasn’t nothing but bodies. Solana ain’t answering the phone, and Naomi is worried sick. I can’t get in contact with—”

“Did you know?”

Simple. Straight to the point. Necessary.

Jimmy pauses on the other end. “Know what?”

Roman runs his hands over his face, switching to speaker so he can rest it on the step next to him as he tries his best to compose himself. A difficult task, to say the least.

“It’s a coup,” he supplies. Roman isn’t exactly sure why he’s telling Jimmy from the start what’s occurred. What’s happening. In a more perfect world, he’d wait it out, see if his cousin would inadvertently reveal his own hand. But, this is far from a perfect world, and mentally, Roman is all over the damn place.

He doesn’t have the fortitude to navigate that shit right now.

He just wants to know.

He wants an answer.

“Rikishi, Solo, Jey, and what feels like the entire fucking Bloodline are trying to overthrow me. They’ve all turned on me and have kidnapped Solana in order to draw me out.” Roman leaves out the part where they’ve formed an alliance with the Nightmare Factory, wanting to keep some things to himself, to not reveal everything that he knows. “And, I need to know if you fucking knew about this shit. If you’ve betrayed me, too.”

Because that’s what this whole phone call is about. It’s not necessarily about scoping out information or alleviating concerns, it’s about finding out the truth, once and for all.

Jimmy scoffs, as if in disbelief. “What?” 

And then a more frantic voice, feminine and familiar. Naomi. “What do you mean they’ve kidnapped her?” Roman says nothing, providing no additional information as Naomi continues to pry for information. Maybe from genuine concern. Maybe from and for an entirely different reason.

Because, he hasn’t forgotten about the argument she’d had with Solana while on the girls trip. An argument that resulted in Solana asking her to leave.

And now, Solana has been kidnapped. 

“Oh my God, is she hurt? Why would they take her?” Naomi continues to shoot out question after question, her voice cracking. “We—we have to get her back!”

“We will,” Jimmy assures, clearly trying to console her on the other end. “Roman, where are you? What’s the pla—”

“Answer the question, Jimmy,” is Roman’s harsh, cold interruption. A reminder of his initial statement. “Did you know?”

“Wait a minute…” Jimmy trails off, voice shifting to something close to anger. “You think I had something to do with this?”

Roman doesn’t skip a beat with his reply. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“Roman…” Naomi sounds hurt almost. Not that he cares. Her feelings are of no concern to him. “You know us. You know Jimmy. How could you even think—”

“I don’t know anything anymore!” Roman snaps, the tight grip he had on his emotions for this conversation starting to loosen. “All I know is that my wife has been taken, my fucking family has betrayed me, and the people who were supposed to be on my side have turned on me!” He closes his eyes, head tilted back as he rolls his neck and regains his composure. “I’m only going to ask one more time….did you know?”

Roman isn’t quite sure what kind of answer he expected from his cousin. He just knows he wants an answer. Good or bad, it doesn’t matter at this point.

The truth is all that matters.

“I knew….I knew they were thinking it was time you stepped down.” Jimmy finally answers after a good minute of silence. “Mostly Solo and my pops. They thought you’d become too distracted and wanted to meet with the Elders about stripping you of the ula fala.” Roman closes his eyes, doing his best to not allow the blow of Jimmy’s answer to extract from him another blow-up. “They wanted me and Jey to come with them, to go along with them, but I said hell no. I said—”

“So, you knew.” Because, that’s all Roman is hearing right now. He’s hearing that Jimmy knew tensions were high enough to where his dad and brothers wanted to see Roman dethroned, and he said nothing.

“I ain’t know they were planning this shit!” Jimmy defends, clearly emotional and frustrated.

It’s going around.

“Roman, we would never do anything to hurt you or Solana—”

“You should have told me. You should have fucking said something.” Roman completely dismisses Naomi. This isn’t even about her. This is about Roman and the man he thought he could trust. 

The family he thought he could trust.

“Roman, I’m telling you the God’s honest truth. I had no idea they were planning to do this.” To be fair, Jimmy sounds as genuine as he probably looks right now, but if there’s anything this experience has taught Roman, it’s that it’s sometimes the people closest to you who can say exactly what they know you want to need and hear. 

All while stabbing you in the back.

Jimmy had continued talking, while Roman sort of tuned him out in a sense, only to latch onto one attention-grabbing sentence. “....I thought my pops let this go years ago….”

Now, Roman is the one pausing. “What?” Silence. “What are you talking about?”

A heavy sigh followed by a clearly reluctant answer. “When we was younger, my dad used to talk to us about how it would be an honor if one of his sons could be Tribal Chief. He thought…he thought we should have challenged you for the ula fala.”

Roman’s jaw clenches, his chest a tight cage for all things heavy and uncomfortable. 

The shit just gets worse minute by minute.

“Is that why Jey did?” Roman asks, though something tells him he already knows the answer. 

“Yes.” Fuck. “My dad put a lot of pressure on him, encouraged him that he could do it, but when he lost, I thought pops had moved on from that. I had no idea—”

Whatever Jimmy planned to say next will never be known. It’ll never be known because Roman hits the end button.

And, he sits there. Alone. Thinking. Dwelling. Ruminating. All cognitive roads leading to one damning answer.

Traitors.

They’re all traitors.

For years, seeds and discussions of dissension have occurred, plans to dethrone him made and disregarded until one finally came to fruition. 

And, no one said a damn thing. 

Dead. 

They’re all dead to him. 

—------

Thinking is a difficult, arduous task when every path one conceives could lead to an untimely demise.

It’s a heavy realization Solana is slowly coming to as she sits propped up against the wall, gently stroking Brandi's hair as she sleeps on her lap. An unexpected position and situation that few would expect the women to be in. But, it was in Brandi waking up and screaming, clearly reliving her recent trauma, that Solana moved to console and comfort her.

She’s been there. 

She knows exactly what Brandi is experiencing, thus Solana working to soothe her back to sleep.

Solana doesn’t mind, because while she sympathizes with the trauma from the assault, she can’t imagine how devastated Brandi must be at being separated from her daughter. Not knowing where she is.

What’s being done to her.

It’s awful.

And, it’s why Solana is currently wracking her brain, trying to come up with a plan, preferably one that helps them get to Emma. 

To Solana, that’s the most important thing. Protecting the children.

It just unfortunately happens to be the hardest thing as well.

To the best of her abilities, Solana tried to observe and memorize the halls and make of the building. Tried to commit them to memory, but with each possible path to a rescue and escape, she was met with guards.

Armed guards.

And, with a pocket knife being her only available weapon, Solana knows it won’t get her far. She needs one as well. A gun, at the very least. 

Both herself and Brandi. If they’re going to escape this, and they will escape this, they have to be armed, too.

It’s just the how of it all that keeps stumping her.

Solana jumps and is immediately alert and cautious when the door turns, and though unsure, she's unwilling to show any fear at whoever it is entering. 

Especially if it’s Solo or Rikishi.

It’s not.

But, it's still that same level of anger and resentment she holds and feels staring at the person who remains in the doorway, tray of food in hand, guilty, almost contrite expression on his face.

Jey says nothing at first, closing the door behind him as he walks in. “Ya’ll should be hungry.”

Solana remains quiet, offering no reply as he moves closer, and she holds onto Brandi. Protectively.

Jey sighs, walking over to the desk, carefully placing the tray down. “You should probably eat—”

“How could you do this?” Jey’s nonverbal expression is an immediate, immense amount of guilt. And, that only pisses Solana off even more, makes her fist form at her side. “How could you betray Roman like this?”

Because as much as she hates this for herself, she hates it for her husband more. 

Hates that someone he viewed as a brother could do this to him. Could betray him like this. 

“Solana, you gotta believe that I had no idea they were planning to do all this,” Jey tries to explain, running his hands through his short hair, gesturing to a still sleeping Brandi. Solana hopes she remains asleep for the whole conversation. She needs the rest. So does Solana, but she needs to know the why more than she needs sleep. “Kidnapping innocent women and kids? That’s not me.”

“Isn’t it?” Solana challenges, jutting to the tray. “Because instead of bringing us food, you should be trying to help us out of here. That’s the Jey I know. Not some henchman bitch for his evil dad and brother.”

He’s initially quiet, Solana knowing she hit below the belt, but it’s hard to care in this situation. It’s hard to care anything about the man before her.

And then, a reply. “They got Nicki.”

Solana pauses. “What?”

She hates to admit it, hates to acknowledge it, but she can see it. Can see the distress that marks his features. Can hear how distraught he is. “Apparently, they had a feeling I would “turn” on them, so they took Nicki to make sure I “don’t forget” which side I chose.”

It’s a lot to take in. The last thing Solana expected to hear was that another innocent woman has been dragged into this nightmare, let alone Jey’s wife. But, while her heart goes out to Nicki, Solana has a hard time not focusing on Jey’s words.

“Exactly.” She finally speaks, voice low, heavy with exhaustion. Mental and physical. “You chose your side.” She lifts her chin, her tone leveled and solemn. “Now, you have to live with the consequences.”

Solana is well aware that Jey is able to read in between the lines of her response. As much as she feels for Nicki, she can’t think about that. Can’t be concerned when she already has so much on her plate. 

Jey did this. Now, he has to deal with it.

A grave realization that clearly overcomes the man as he leaves out without another word.

—------

 Roman has never feared death.

Not really.

Come close to it a handful of times in his almost 40 years on this earth, but the closest and maybe the only time he was ever really scared was the night his family was murdered. 

After that, fear became an emotion he had to bury when it comes to the end of life.

It’s not even something he’s really thought about, even in those moments where a brush with death was putting it lightly. He’s just never really cared. It’s also so systematic for him.

You’re born, you live, and you die. That’s just the order of things, and as a pragmatic person, he accepts that. It makes sense to him.

But, for the first time, in a long time, there’s a thought, a feeling, about finally meeting his maker—or not—that feels a lot more of a reality than it’s ever been.

Feels like it could very well be a possibility. An outcome.

And, it’s something he’s accepted.

He’s accepted it, because he’s also accepted that there’s nothing he won’t do to make sure Solana makes it out of this alive. 

That’s what’s most important to him. That’s the goal he has to have and keep in mind. 

Nothing else matters. 

He can’t and won’t be concerned with himself. That’s secondary. His wife and unborn daughters are his only concern, because he can’t conceptualize or even allow himself to think about any alternative.

He just can’t.

After grabbing an extra magazine and loading it into his vest, Roman’s heavy footsteps carry him from one room to another. And, the door is barely opened when Dulce lifts her head from where she lays on the bed. Tail wagging, her ears flop down when he moves over to the end of said bed. 

Roman chuckles, seeing the way her eyes close after he walks over to her, and she licks his hand, settling and laying back down. “You ended up being not so bad, after all, you know that?” Dulce shifts, rolling onto her back, exposing her stomach, her way of requesting a belly rub. 

He obliges.

One last time.

“You’ve always looked out for her…” He trails off, incapable of thinking back to how this tiny little creature potentially saved Solana’s life in more ways than one realizes. “Don’t ever stop that, alright?”

Dulce, innocent and oblivious, just continues to enjoy the belly rubs until they stop. Roman stands up and goes to walk away, only to hear her tiny bark. He turns around to see her jump off the bed, walking in his direction. “No. Stay.”

Instantly, her ears are back down as she whimpers, laying down, watery eyes never leaving his.

Roman swallows, offering a quiet, “bye, Dulce” before shutting the door.

Moving down the hall and over to the stairs, another familiar face waits for him at the bottom.

Ava waits until he’s right across from her to speak. “I should be going with you.”

Maybe. Roman can’t deny she’d be a valuable asset, but it was ultimately decided she would stay here with the children, them feeling significantly more comfortable with her and Austin versus just a strange man they don’t even know.

“You’re needed here,” is the only reply Roman offers as he adjusts his vest, rolling his shoulders.

Ava watches him. “Everything’s gonna be fine, Roman.” He looks at her. She offers a small smile.  “Okay?”

He doesn’t say anything, but he does reciprocate the hug she offers. Squeezes her a little tighter than usual.

When they pull apart, she hits him on his arm, half joking, half serious. “Go fuck em’ up, big ears.”

He chuckles, appreciative of her. Of all their times together. “Still not as big as that big ass forehead.”

Ava’s response is to flip him off as he walks out the house and onto the porch where Dwayne stands, also in full tactical gear, watching as Matteo, Rhodes, and Santos work together to instruct the recently arrived reinforcements on the game plan.

In the distance, Rhea, Angel, Berto, and Afia converse, also ironing out their strategy.

Roman says nothing at first, eventually swallowing, voice heavy. “Dwayne.” When nothing is said in response, Roman moves right into it. “I need you to promise me some—”

“No.”

An unexpected, blunt single word response. Not entirely unsurprising. Roman closes his eyes. “Dwayne.”

“I already know what you’re going to say. What you want to ask me.” Dwayne crosses his arms, turning toward Roman. “You want me to promise you that once we get Solana, we leave, even if that means leaving you.” The silence is all the answer needed. “And, I’m telling you no, because I can tell you that wife of yours would rather see us all dead before she lets us leave you behind.” He takes a step forward, comforting hand on Roman’s shoulder. “We go in together. We leave together. Aiga.”

Roman’s jaw clenches.

Family.

Aiga means family in Samoan.

The only problem is that Roman just isn’t quite sure just what family means to him anymore.

Not with all the betrayal.

Nevertheless, he can’t think of that right now.

He needs to be focused.

Matteo soon walks over, one foot on the step, the other on the ground. He directs his statement between the two men. “We’re ready.”

Two words.

One meaning.

Roman rolls his shoulders, walking down and forward, a man on a deadly brutal mission.

“Let’s go.”

—--------

Solana is startled awake when the heavy door across from her is sprung open with an unfamiliar level of aggression. She’s partially expecting Jey or even Rikishi only to be met with the cold blue eyes of the Caucasian man seen earlier in the day.

Brandi sits up, also startled, scooting back against the wall. “What do you—”

“Not you,” he dismisses. It’s only then as he moves toward the two women that Solana notices he walks with a sort of limp.

But, that’s farthest from her mind when he leans over and yanks Solana up by her arm. 

Goosebumps sprout up all over her, Brandi beating her with the question. “Where are you taking her?”

“Mind your business,” he grunts, Solana looking back at Brandi, partially trying to tug out of his grasp, only to fail epically. Her tug is no match for his brute strength.

Solana sees Brandi’s eyes fill with tears. “Don’t hurt her!”

The door slams shut too soon for Solana to try to console her, let her know that it’s going to be okay, even if Solana feels the complete opposite. 

She knows something is wrong. Can detect, even feel, as such while being led down the hall. She does her best to distract her tingling spidey senses by examining the space. Still no cameras. None that she can spot, anyway. Expected given the obvious age of the building. 

That could help a ton.

For what exactly, she doesn’t quite know. But, it’s one less thing for her to worry about when she does finally formulate a good, solid plan. And, she needs to do so sooner rather than later.

Stopping outside a door, Solana hesitates when he opens it and motions for her to go in. She doesn't, which clearly upsets him, as he shoves her in there. Improved balance prevents her from falling, Solana looking around the room to see it’s not much unlike the one she was just snatched from, including the cot in the corner that’s a bit neater than the one in her cell.

Like someone had prepped it a bit.

The sound of the door closing redirects Solana’s attention as she turns around and realizes he’s staring at her.

And, it’s unnerving as hell, to say the least.

Naturally, she does her best to put as much distance between them as possible, slowly backing away.

He makes a sound and whistles. “Ya know, Bron kept going on and on about Rhodes girl, and she’s pretty alright, but me?” An unexpected country voice is tinged with something borderline malicious and eerie. He gives her an uncomfortable one-over. “I always liked me a girl with some meat on the bones.”

And, it’s in that one sentence, Solana realizes her spidey senses weren’t just tingling just to tingle. 

They were a warning sign.

Her heart is beating through her chest as she somehow manages a shaky, “what are you doing?”

He says nothing at first, just steps forward, continuing to undress her with his eyes. Solana’s anxiety goes from bad to catastrophic when her back collides with the old, gritty wall. 

She has nowhere else to go.

Disgust fills her when he spits off in the corner. “That husband of yours fucked up and ruined my life, ya know.” There’s something about that statement along with his country accent and big build that reminds Solana of something. A conversation. A conversation with Roman she had not too long ago. 

Brock.

This man has to be the Brock they’d talked about in bed that day. 

She gasps loudly, realizing he’s directly in front of her. “Seems only right I fuck and ruin his pretty little wife as payback, don’t you think?”

No.

Solana’s first instinct is the one she works on. Foolishly, she attempts to dart past him, screaming out when he grabs her and picks her up.

“NO! LET ME GO!” Fighting and thrashing against him, Solana is a mess of nerves, terror, and determination. “HELP!” 

Her screams feel like they fall to the void, and she winces loudly when thrown onto the ground. 

On the cot.

Solana briefly shuts her eyes, having to ignore the pain in the back of her head. But, she’s forced to return to the terrifying scene unfolding before her when Brock straddles her.

“A feisty thing, ain’t you?” Words that send chills down her spine and travel her back to an earlier time in life. Easily, one of the darkest days of her life.

The day she was raped.

His statement is eerily similar to the same thing her rapist said to her as he started ripping off her clothes, while the other one held her down.

Something that forever changed her life in all of the worst ways.

Something that she swore would never happen to her again.

Solana promised herself that she would never let another man hurt her, and she meant that shit.

It’s a promise she can’t break.

Borck’s disgusting, meaty hands groping at her breast through her sweater, Solana knows she has to think fast, think smart, and without even realizing it, she’s stammering. “I’m—I’m on my period!”

It’s the first thing that comes to mind, and she’s immediately regretting it, because no way will he believe that.

She needs something else.

Solana has never felt as much disgust when she forces herself to offer, “but, I—I can—I can give you head.”

It’s nothing short of a miracle that she doesn’t throw up on the spot. A desire that grows exponentially seeing him smirk and his eyes light up at the offer of her doing something she hasn’t even done with her own husband. 

But, it’s the only thing that comes to mind that will get them to switch positions, that will allow Solana to be on top.

Because she knows what she has to do to keep that promise. 

To save herself. 

Wordlessly, Brock climbs off her, relieving the weight Solana didn’t realize was settling on her chest. She scrambles to her knees, again praying with everything in her that she can continue to hold back the vomit begging to be released as he moves in front of her, his crotch uncomfortably close to her face. His musty scent does nothing to help that nausea, Solana shutting her eyes and blinking the tears back. 

This is the only way. 

Disgust isn’t the right word, but it’s an accurate one nonetheless. Solana wills herself to place her hand on the buckle of his jeans, her eyes darting up to see him looking down at her with excitement and anticipation. 

It’s revolting. 

But, the moment he tilts his head back, rolling his neck, as if preparing for the pleasure that will consume him by defiling her, Solana takes it.

She takes the opportunity.

With impressive speed, she slides the pocket knife secretly tucked in the back pocket of her jeans out, unsheathes it and hesitates not one second to drive it into his crotch. 

His roar of pain is music to her ears as she yanks the knife out, quickly remembering the, now, most important part of the conversation she had with her husband. 

The unknowingly key part he’d shared.

“.....I speared him, he went down badly on his right leg, the dominant one, and fucked it up real good…..”

That same right leg she drives the knife into. Close to his knee, carefully avoiding bone but effectively severing muscle. More cries of agony as blood seeps out of both the orifices, and Solana retracts her knife, quickly jumping back to her feet. 

“I’ll kill you, you fucking bitch!” He shouts, going to grab for her, only to fall down when she moves out the way, paving the way for said fall. 

Somehow, someway, Brock rolls over to his back, revealing the blood that stains his pants, continuing to pour out of him at an abnormal pace. A pulsing blood flow.

Good.

A sense of joy fills Solana as she realizes she was effective in her aim. His artery. She went for his femoral artery. A major blood vessel. 

A critical one. 

The same way she once again doesn’t hesitate as she hovers over him, lifts her knife once more and rams it into the side of his neck, not stopping until it reaches the hilt. She watches his eyes bulge from his head and expertly dodges the spurt of blood that shoots out of his gaping wound when she removes said knife.

Panting, heart racing, Solana stumbles backward, watching how his mouth opens, as if he’s trying to issue one last threatening, hateful message before bulging eyes shift into nothingness followed by a stillness of his body.

Solana waits a good minute, ensuring he’s clearly dead before reaching and snatching the gun off his holster. Moving back once more, bloody knife in one hand, gun in the other, the reality of what’s just happened smashes into her with all the weight of finality.

She killed him.

Solana killed this man.

And though her eyes fill with tears, and that weight on her chest returns, it’s not exactly what she expected to experience after taking a life.

He was going to hurt her.

He was going to rape her. 

She had no choice. 

She did what she had to do to protect herself. 

To protect her babies.

There’s pain and trauma but also relief at carrying through on her promise. 

No man will ever hurt her again. She said that shit, and she meant it.

She stood on it. 

She stood on business.

Solana nearly jumps out of her bones when the door is suddenly open, prompting her to aim the gun in one hand and lift the knife in the other up, as if ready to attack the person who enters.

And someone does. A man of a stocky build, with a complexion similar to that of her husband and his family members. Red and black locs that hang freely, blocking some of his face, but it’s the way he immediately lifts his hand, as if defensively that has her intrigued.

“Hey, look, I’m not here to hurt you,” he starts off, gaze falling to Brock’s bloodied, dead body. He scoffs. “Good. I was gon’ make sure his ass ain’t make it out here alive anyway.”

A statement that both shocks and confuses Solana, but she doesn’t show it. Neither does she lower either of her weapons, all the while keeping the gun specifically aimed for the middle of his head.

“Look….” Gaze back on her, this unknown man continues to speak, sounding almost desperate. “I know you probably not gon’ believe me, and I don’t blame you. But, I had no idea none of this shit was gon’ happen. Tribal Chief had me shadowing and working with Jey the past few months, and he just told me to come along with him, cause Solo had some shit to share with us. But, I had no idea—” He stops, looking off into the corner. “Roman gave me another chance to prove myself after I fucked up a few years ago. None of this shit is right. Solo ain’t no damn Tribal Chief. Roman is the Tribal Chief, and to team up with the Nightmare Factory after what Rhodes did to our family?” Anger fills his eyes and voice. “To go after women and kids? We don’t do that shit. I got 5 daughters. I would lose my shit if someone did something like this to them.”

Words. They’re a bunch of words stringed together that Solana is following but not fully comprehending. Not sure what to believe, if any of it. Eventually, she finds herself asking, never lowering her only forms of defense. “Why….why are you telling me this?”

He maintains his repentant expression. “Cause, it’s not the whole Bloodline in on this shit. Just the weak-minded motherfuckers who ain’t got no spine. It’s a group of us that ain’t with this shit, cause ain’t no way Roman not about to come up in here and rain fire.” The first sentence to leave his mouth that makes her feel something. A sense of pride. A lot of fear. A level of hope. He vows, placing his fist over his heart. “We loyal to the only Tribal Chief, and that’s Roman Reigns.” He juts his chin in her direction, adding on almost proudly, “And that includes the Faletua.”

It only takes Solana a minute to realize why the term, though not in a language she’s fluent in, is a word she knows.

She remembers Dwayne referring to her as such before.

The wife of the Tribal Chief.

“Our job is to protect you, so that’s what we gon’ do.” He rolls his shoulders, nodding to himself.  “That’s what I’m gon’ do.”

Solana isn’t sure just why or how, but at some point in his explanation, the suspicion settled into relief. The doubt at his words was chewed out and tipped away by belief. She doesn’t know how or why, but she believes him.

Believes that he truly means her no harm.

And, that’s a relieving feeling to have when surrounded by the complete opposite. 

Finally lowering the gun and knife, she asks, probing. “And Jey?”

Regret fills his face. He looks and sounds a bit torn with his answer. “Jey seem like he ain’t know it was gon be all this, but he knew it was gon’ be something.” Solana doesn’t say it or show it, but she feels the same way. Maybe he didn’t know the full plan of this coup, but he knew something was being concocted. And, he did nothing to stop it.

That makes him just as complicit in her book.

The man whose name she still doesn’t know continues, adding almost regretfully. “Regardless, I don’t think we can trust Jey to be on our side, cause Solo got his wife.” 

Solana’s stomach drops. A part of her wondered if Jey was just saying that as a manipulation ploy. But, obviously, that wasn’t the case. “Nicki really is here?”

He nods. “I guess Solo had a feeling Jey might be on some shit, cause he got her locked up somewhere. Jey been trying to find her.”

Solana nods. She understands. It makes sense Jey would want to find and free his wife from this nightmare.

The thought urges her to make something clear. “Brandi and Emma need to get out of here.”

As somewhat expected, he looks at her with obvious disagreement. “All due respect, ma’am, you’re the pri—”

“I’m the Faletua, right?” He nods. “Well, Roman isn’t here right now. I am. So that means you answer to me, and I say the priority is getting that little girl and her mother the hell out of here.” And, she means that. 

Solana knows she also needs to find a way out, but her heart aches with knowing Brandi has been violated and traumatized in the worst way possible while simultaneously being separated from her only child. It’s a bit of maternal instinct and empathy that has her prioritizing the mother/daughter duo over herself.

They have to get out.

“Aight’,” he finally agrees. Solana is slightly confused when he steps out the door only to return with something black in hand. “You gon need this.” He steps forward, Solana handing him the gun—she keeps the knife—in exchange for what she realizes is a vest. 

A bulletproof vest.

“You know how to shoot?” He suddenly asks, turning around and allotting her the privacy to change. She’s appreciative, lifting her sweatshirt off to put on the vest. Over her sweater would work, but something about it being concealed seems to make more sense.

“Well enough,” is her answer. She takes a second to feel her belly, eyes briefly closing as she once again reminds herself why.

Why she has to fight. 

Finished changing, vest secure, sweater on again, it’s only then she asks, telling him he can turn around, “what’s your name?”

“Jacob,” he answers. Jacob. She commits it to memory, because when they make it out of this, and they will make it out of this, she owes him.

She owes him her life. 

—------

By the time the groups arrive, it’s nighttime, the dark of night aiding in the arrival of heavily armored trucks and equally armed men. Soldiers ready for battle, for a war that they have full intentions on winning. For Roman, it’s less a war, and more of an extermination. 

The map found online serves as an accurate, helpful guide, allowing the carefully cultivated plan, tactical and methodical, to proceed just as planned. The plant, as predicted, is heavily guarded and secured. The perimeter swarmed by both Bloodline and Nightmare Factory men. It all makes no difference to the groups. 

Targets.

They’re all nothing but intended targets.

It’s why they send in a number of men, elite Cartel assassins to sweep the outside perimeter, the use of silencers aiding in their silent takedown. Bodies dropping, aiding in the undetected entrance of the group of snipers to aid in taking down men from above, while the rest make their way through on the ground.

Ready and hungry for blood, Bayley rolls her shoulders, looking over at the group, questioning, “everyone knows what the plan is, right?”

A number of various types of acknowledgment, Santos speaking in Spanish to Angel and Berto before looking amongst the group of them, specifically the faction of snipers. “It’ll only be a matter of time before the pendejos make their way up to you.”

Afia’s eyes burn with the bloodlust. “I’m counting on it.”

Matteo chuckles. It truly is a tossup as to who will leave tonight with the highest kill count. His wife or his brother. Something tells him Afia might tip the scale in her favor.

Not only did the bastards enter her home, but they’ve gone after someone who she fully considers to be family. A sister.

A dire, lethal mistake.

Cody speaks up, Roman intentionally drowning him out, still deeply disliking the fact that he’s even present. Avoidance is the best and only way, however, to deal with that.  “We need to be prepared for….injuries.”

A general statement that needs no elaboration. He’s talking about Solana, Brandi, and Emma. It’s truly a hope for the best, prepare for the worst when it comes to that. Especially given they all witnessed how Solo had zero hesitation in order Solana to be waterboarded.

To be tortured.

“I have that handled.” Santos supplies, offering nothing more, a shared look and nod between himself and Dwayne and Matteo.

That much Roman notices, but he says nothing, because he needs to make something clear.

Something he’s not willing to compromise on.

“If any of you get to Solana before I do, you all take her and you get the hell out of here.”

It’s a bold, demanding statement that draws several looks of skepticism. 

Bayley is the first to speak, or to try, at least. “What about yo—”

“You heard what I said.”

Another valorous, brazen reiteration, the fierce, dark look in his eyes—and voice—indicating there is no room for objection or argument. And Roman confirms as such, directing his next statement solely to Matteo and Dwayne, “that’s an order.”

It’s a final statement. 

A last decree.

Still an order that’s met with reluctant acceptance, none of which can be moved beyond disagreement because Santos presses a finger to the comm in his ear, earpieces they all have to aid in communication. He nods, expression spoiling his next statement. “It’s clear.”

Afia nods, sharing a look with Rhea as the women fist bump. “Let’s go.” She shoots her husband one last look, an unspoken be careful, before the group moves out, disappearing into the night, each already knowing which building they intend to enter and climb, moving to the top to settle into position.

Restlessness is felt and slightly visible for everyone except for Roman and Cody. An irritating similarity but one Roman can’t deny nor can he entirely not understand.

They’re both men on missions, determined to rescue and right the egregious wrongs that have been done between them. 

Vengeance. 

And, minutes later, when a single sniper shot enters the night, the restlessness slips into something of dangerous silence.

Go time.

It’s a slow, steady thing as the remaining men, led by Roman, Dwayne, and Matteo guide the core group and fleet of soldiers by foot. The Tribal Chief is the one to issue the first shot, to see the body plop to the ground. Several more follow as gunshots rain from the sky, aiming and hitting Bloodline and Nightmare Factory men alike. 

And when the numbers even off just enough, Roman ditches the gun, opting for something more brutal. 

Something that fills him with a sick sense of satisfaction, that eases into the bloodlust that consumes him. 

With brutal and gory efficiency, Roman advances through the men, knife slicing deep, hitting bone in some instances. Blood squirts from his expert cuts, the sick sound of them choking on their own blood silenced by the stomp of his boot on their neck, a sickening crunch sound deafened under the hail of gunshots and mayhem surrounding him.

Roman is all machine and no human, as he brutally disarms and murders man after man, soldier after soldier, uncaring and unwilling to give a single fuck whether they wear the Bloodline or Nightmare insignia. It doesn’t matter.

They’re all fucking traitors, no matter what way one looks at it. 

They all deserve to fucking burn.

Around him, the brutality he extends to his comrades, is reflected in those fighting alongside him. Out the corner of his eyes, he sees Bayley yank a man backwards as she puts the gun to his head, pulling the trigger, brain splatter flying across, landing on other men who continue to drop, falling against the onslaught of the elite killers.

It’s a bloodbath.

At some point the gunfire from the top ceases, indicating Afia and company have been reached, and it’s confirmed as such when a body comes flying from the sky, landing grotesquely, limbs distorted, face grotesque from being blown off. 

Another of many victims the night still has yet to claim.

Roman can even spot Rhodes, deranged look on his face as he yanks a bloodied knife out of someone’s eye socket only to lodge it in the throat of a man honing in on him. Dwayne and Matteo work almost in synch, covering each other, gunning down man after man, resorting to lethal combat when necessary.

A loud battle cry of sorts is all Roman overhears as he turns just in time to seeing Afia use a hunched over, injured soldier as a makeshift spring board as she contorts hers body, legs wrapped around another man, flipping him over onto his back. She slices a large hunting knife across his throat, blood spurting out, flying wildly at the same time she uses the gun in her other hand to take down three other men. 

Not even seconds later, she’s back on her feet, brutally murdering another set of several men in under a single minute. 

The Opo has truly arrived.

Similarly, Rhea clears an almost path of sorts, expertly gunning down bastards, the dagger in her other hand suddenly being thrown across the way, somehow perfectly landing in throat of yet another dead fucker.

She smiles in sick satisfaction.

The same satisfaction that's seen on Santos face as he yanks a knife out of one dead man only to lodge it into yet another, now, dead man.

It’s obvious everyone is on the page.

Extermination.

This is a fucking extermination.

—-----

For Solana, the first order of business is getting to Emma, making sure she’s safe. Once she has Emma, they can retrieve Brandi and proceed with whatever plan Jacob has for trying to get them the hell out of dodge. She’s skeptical but somewhat eased by the other Bloodline guards who seem to have loyalty still to her husband, given their going along with Jacob using the excuse of Solo wanting to see the abductees.

Solana is slightly surprised at how he’s believed, but she doesn’t question it. 

What other option does she have?

Her heart is beating through her chest when they arrive at a door, Jacob dapping up and speaking in Samoan to the two guards who shoot her nasty looks. Solana diverts her gaze to the ground, recognizing her glare or look of indifference could potentially set them off or attract the wrong kind of attention. 

She has to continue to play the role of the scared, taken woman. And to be fair, it’s not entirely an act. She is scared. This is unfamiliar territory. Truly life or death.

It’s just that Solana has decided to give death the middle finger.

She’s not ready to die.

Not tonight.

Not anytime soon. 

Especially not like this.

The door opens, and she has to stop herself from pushing past Jacob to go in and gently coax Emma out. But, she can’t. Again, if this is going to work, she has to play her role, and it has to work.

But, the minute Jacob comes out with a crying, sniffling Emma, Solana can’t help herself. She instantly reaches for and pulls Emma into her chest, eyes shutting when she the little girl hold onto her.

“I want my mommy and daddy,” she cries, and Solana has to force back the tears.

“I know, sweetie. It’s gonna be okay.” She strokes the top of Emma’s head, vowing. “I promise.”

Because not only is she not dying tonight, Solana refuses to let anything happen to the little girl in her arms. 

No matter what.

“Let’s go,” Jacob barks, forcing the two apart. Solana can see the unspoken apology in his eyes as he guides them down the hall in a different direction from where they came. Solana holds Emma’s hand, whispering words of comfort, doing her best to offer any type of solace she has to give. 

However, the more they walk, the more audible sound becomes. Muffled, clearer with each step they take. An altercation, a brawl of some sort, but then it becomes evident it’s a lot more than just a brawl.

Gunshots. 

Solana hears gunshots.

Naturally, she moves to duck, covering Emma with her body as the men around her begin to shout, most speaking in Samoan until an English voice calls out with all the panic.

“Roman is here!”

And just like that, Solana’s stomach drops.

He’s here.

Roman is here.

She doesn’t have much time to think or process this piece of information, because Jacob is shouting at her, telling her to follow him. She does so, never once letting go of Emma’s hand as he leads them to a place unknown.

But, they’re stopped, two guards questioning Jacob about where he’s taking her and Emma, and he gives the same answer he gave before. Except this time, it’s not believed. Solana can tell the moment the man looks at her, neutral expression morphing into a glare. 

And then she's suddenly being shoved out of the way, almost knocking Emma onto the ground. Seconds later, a gunshot.

But, it’s not in the distance. It’s right before her.

“Get Brandi and get them out of here!” Jacob yells, gun in hand, walking over the body, two men flanking him as he shouts, shooting down and effectively dodging the onslaught of bullets.

Still, Solana is in fight or flight mode as three Bloodline guards keep a sort of circle around herself and Emma, leading them away from the shooting, away from the violence. Emma’s cries of terror absolutely gut Solana, and she’d give anything to try to comfort her right now, but that’s not the priority. They have to get out of here first.

Led down a staircase, the door is kicked open, and a left is made, leading to a large space filled with rusted equipment and other dated, deteriorated machines and items. Solana is about to pick Emma up, her little legs unable to keep up at a proper pace, when more gunshots ring out. 

Solana shouts and moves to tug Emma near her when she’s suddenly thrown shoved down, something, someone ramming into her. Solana’s head bounces off the ground, an instant, sharp pain slicing the back of her head.

Cut.

She’s been cut on something. Unsurprising given this space seems full and filled with potential hazards. 

“Got you now, you little bitch,” Eyes shut, Solana trying to ignore the pain, she doesn’t need to use her vision the person to know who it is. “I’ve been waiting for this day a long ass time,” Samantha hisses, Solana finally willing her eyes open to see the woman standing over her, gun in her hand. She smirks, looking up and walking away, “but first, I kill the kid.”

Seconds. It takes only seconds for Solana to register what’s happening. What’s about to happen.

In the distance, guards continue to spar, allies versus traitors, too consumed in their own battle to help her.

She’s on her own. 

With a sudden, burning rage, Solana moves up off the ground and runs behind Samantha, grabbing her by her hair and slamming her face into a nearby pillar.

Samanath cries out in pain, falling to the floor, the gun also tumbling out of her hand. Solana is quick to kick it to the side, chest heaving, fist forming, rage boiling.

Marching over to her, Solana sneers, eyes burning with unbridled determination. “You should have killed me when you had the chance, hoe.” Jumping on top of her, one hand takes a fist full of Samantha’s hair to hold her still, the other rains a direct punch onto her face, aiming for her nose.

Samantha continues to cry out, to try to push Solana off as she rains hit after hit onto her, grabbing her by her face and slamming her head repeatedly into the ground. The anger, the rage, the hurt, the everything Solana has felt in the past twenty-four hours racing through her veins, serving as fuel. 

The desire to survive. 

The desire to protect.

The desire to live.

Samantha manages to move her arm just enough, grabbing some inanimate object and bashing Solana over the head with it.  

Solana gasps, eyes clenching shut from the pain. It’s not sharp like the cut was, but it’s dull and heavy and forces her to roll off the other woman onto her side, as she grips her head.

Samantha stumbles off the ground, landing a kick into Solana’s back. "You took everything from me!" Naturally, Solana moves into a fetal position, protecting herself. "Now, it's your turn to suffer."

A nearsighted Samantha opts for a more final method of assault, turning away, wide, crazed eyes searching for the gun. Blood drips down from scalp, onto the cotton of her shirt. Her lip is busted open, also bleeding, the evidence of the brutal assault visible for all to see.

Solana, however, rolls onto her back, sitting up and seeing Samantha. Seeing her trajectory. Solana also sees the location of the gun, and she times it. It’s all done so quickly, too quickly for most people, but she’s a woman determined. And with that determination, lip curled, a loud roar of sorts leaves her mouth as she moves to her feet, charging for the other woman. Samantha is barely able to turn around when she's knocked to the ground from the impact of Solana’s spear. 

Quickly, Solana rolls off of Sam, grabbing for the gun that’s now in her hands. And the minute Sam tries to scramble to her feet, Solana aims, shoots, and lodges three bullets into her. 

One in the shoulder.

One in the chest.

And one in the head.

Samantha’s dead body crumples to the ground, still and unmoving.

Solana closes her eyes, placing her free hand over her chest, taking a deep breath. The pain of the fight, the throbbing in her cheek something she has to set aside as she throws the gun to the side, needing to find Emma. Opening her eyes and moving back to her feet, she sees all of the guards previously fighting all laying dead, too.

She swallows.

It’s just her and Emma now.

Solana’s anxiety spikes a bit as she prays Emma didn’t wander off too far. She starts walking in the direction she saw the little girl run.

“Emma!” She shouts, hoping the violence she displayed didn’t cause the girl to fear her as well. That’s the last thing needed right now, but it could very well be the case for such a young child. “Emma, it’s ok–”

Solana is both interrupted and silenced when someone grabs her from behind and slams her up against a nearby pillar. She tries to scream, but a hand is wrapped around her throat and something else is pressed against her stomach.

Eyes open, she’s met with vicious, burning glare and snarl of a man she immediately recognizes as the person who intended to waterboard her. On Solo’s orders, but still. 

Her fingers attempt to pry at his grip as he cuts off her oxygen, but true fear fills her when she drops her eyes to see what’s pressed against her.

A gun.

He has a gun pressed against her stomach.

“I just watched my brother get his brains blown out because of you,” he hisses, warm breath fanning her face. “All of this chaos for an ugly scarred bitch like you?” Solana closes her eyes, feeling the most helpless she’s felt all day.

Please. Her brain cries out for mercy what cannot leave her mouth. Her heart aches for Emma, aches for herself, aches for her husband, aches for her dog, aches for her daughters.

It can’t end like this. 

It can’t.

“You—” He stops, snarling and shouting. “Take any step closer, and she’s a dead bitch!”

Confused at why he’s shouting, the confusion is short-lived when she’s instantly spun around, his grip on her throat releasing, his forearm covering her neck as the gun is lifted from her stomach and pressed into her temple.

She would cry out if not for the fact that she’s now face to face with none other than Matteo. His gun is aimed toward her, but his eyes speak what he cannot verbalize.

You’re safe.

“Easy,” he cautions, and Solana clenches her eyes shut, needing to calm her nervous system from her anxiety that’s all over the place at this point. “I’m not here to kill you.” He pauses. “Just to distract you.”

At that, her eyes shoot open at the same time a loud gunshot sounds out. One that’s closer than anything she’s ever experienced. Naturally, she drops to the ground, covering hands over her ears as she coughs violently, gasping for the air that was previously deprived. 

And suddenly, hands are on her, prompting Solana to scream, fists beating at and trying to pull away from whoever is trying to pull her close. A natural, normal response. Something she continues to do until the ringing in her ears settles, and she can hear it. Can make out not only that something is being said but what is being said.

“Look at me.” 

It’s not a threat of unspeakable violence, it’s not a violent declaration or a promise of pain. It’s a plead, almost pained plea, of the most simplest nature.

So, she obliges and nearly falls apart.

It’s not void, dark eyes intent on murder. It’s warmth. 

It’s home.

She can barely breathe, her voice hoarse and battered from hours of screaming and crying. “Roman?”

He doesn’t move, just continues to stare at her, stroking the top of her head, willing her to calm down. “You’re safe.” Her eyes shut. “I’ve got you.”

It’s that last statement that nearly strikes up a panic attack, the emotions of the day tumbling over as she throws her arms around him, holding him, cradling him by the back of his head. 

“It’s okay,” he continues to reassure her, kissing her cheek, holding her. It’s a type of relief and comfort that she could never describe. Not accurately.

Her face pressed into his chest, hands grabbing at shirt. "You're here," she cries. "You came." He’s holding her, tightly, and she makes no effort to move away.

To let go.

Never. 

Never again.

He’s saying something, gently, but she can’t make it out. Not with her current emotional state. 

Eventually, he’s able to stand them up, separating them just to brush her tears away. A deep scowl falls on his face, as he assesses her, one hand feeling the back of her head where she’s still bleeding. His other hand goes to her stomach where he lifts her sweater just enough to see the bulletproof best. 

“You’re hurt.” He frowns, anger and regret dancing in his eyes. “Listen to me.” His eyes are now scanning over her, surveying her injuries no doubt. Solana can see his rage amplifying. “You’re gonna go with Matteo—”

She’s instantly protesting, shaking her head, “N-no–” It’s then Solana realizes and remembers, breaking away, only to call out, “Emma!” She can feel Roman and Matteo close behind her, not allowing too much distance be created between them. “Emma, it’s okay—it’s—it’s safe!” She points to Roman, “this is my husband. He’s—he’s here to save us, sweetie.”

It’s then quiet footsteps and sniffling can be heard, Emma’s little body emerging from the shadows.

“Oh honey,” Solana walks over, leaning down hugging her. “It’s okay.” 

Emma cries into her as Solana lifts her up, walking her back over to where Matteo and Roman, each wearing different expressions. Matteo seems sympathetic. Roman seems torn. He's not looking at a little girl.

He's just looking at a Rhodes, and while she can understand why, it causes her to ask him a simple but powerful question.

“What if it was one of our daughters?”

Roman closes his eyes, nodding, acknowledging the uncomfortable truth. With reluctance acceptance, he turns, speaking to Matteo. “Get them both out of here.”

But, it's his lack of self-inclusion that has Solana frowning and shaking her head. “You’re coming with us.”

He walks over, his hand goes to the back of her neck, caressing her skin. “I have to finish this, Solana.”

Solo.

He’s talking about Solo.

He has to kill him.

All of this she understands, except for the fact that it makes Solana literally sick to think about walking out of this place without her husband. Her eyes start watering all over again as Emma continues to cry quietly into her shoulder. “Roman….”

He steps forward, kissing her temple, “I’ll be fine.” She wants to believe that. She wants more than anything to believe that, but there’s a niggling feeling in the pit of her belly that she can’t shake. “I’ll meet you all in a bit.” He looks over at Matteo, the two sharing some kind of unspoken exchange.

Her voice cracks. “Roman—”

“I love you.”

His hand lingers on her cheek, his eyes burning into hers once more all of his adoration and devotion. And then, he’s gone, turning on his heel, seeking to end this once and for all. 

Solana has a hard time looking away, has an even harder time walking away, even at Matteo’s gentle hand on her shoulder, urging her to follow him. She does, never once letting Emma down, but her mind remains focused on Roman.

She can’t shake the thought that a dire mistake is being made in letting him go alone. She knows he’s just as capable as any when it comes to fighting, but this day has been unlike any other. While she knows she’ll have her fair share of trauma to process from the experience, something tells her his hasn’t been any easier. 

As Matteo leads them into turning a corner, Solana is met with yet another unexpected sight.

A group of people.

There’s too many of them to focus in on just one. Dwayne. Afia. Bayley. Santos.

Cody Rhodes?

And, it’s the latter of which who is the first to speak, his previously fierce gaze softening when he sees his daughter. “Emma…”

Emma’s head lifts up, as she turns around, her crying intensifying all over again. “Daddy!”

Solana offers no protest when the little girl starts wiggling in her arms, wanting to get down. The minute her feet hit the ground, she’s rushing over to her father who takes her, picking her up, eyes shut as he cradles the back of her head. “Emma.”

It’s a heartwarming sight for sure, Solana seconds later being pulled into a hug by Bayley.

Solana sniffles, shaking her head, assuring, “I’m okay.”

“Hell yeah, you are,” Bayley squeezes a little tighter before Afia tackles her with a hug, pulling back a bit sooner than anticipated.

She brings her hand to Solana’s face. “I told you that you were a fighter.”

A powerful little reminder. But, not just her. The people surrounding her by now all came together to help her, to help Roman. 

Family. 

This is her family.

And, family sticks together.

Matteo nods, taking the lead. “We need to get go—”

“We’re going back,” Solana announces, drawing all sets of eyes on her. Her focus though, is primarily on Matteo and Dwayne. “We’re not leaving Roman.”

There’s something close to agreement that flashes in Matteo’s eyes, but his words contrast that. “Solana, Roman made his wishes clear. Once we got you—”

“I don’t care what he said,” Solana dismisses. Because, she doesn’t. Roman’s priority, she’s almost certain, was rescuing her. And now that he’s done that with obvious help, he thinks he has to handle the rest of it on his own. But, he doesn’t. And, he won’t.

Chin raised, Solana motions to herself. “He’s not here right now, but I am.” A look of pride comes over Afia and Bayley, even Santos who looks almost impressed by her display of assertiveness. Of authority. “I am the the Faletua. I make the call, and I said we’re going back.” A beat. “That’s an order.”

It’s not familiar territory for Solana, speaking so boldly and authoritatively to such a set of people. Of some of the best, trained killers in the world. But, for her husband, she’ll do it. 

She’ll do anything for the man she loves.

Because not only does she have no plans to die tonight, she has no plans on him dying either.

Dwayne suddenly makes a sound, rolling his shoulders, rallying the group. “You all heard her. The Faletua has spoken.”

Solana smiles, grateful for the nods of approval and agreement. She then turns to Cody, voice softening as Emma continues to cry into his shoulder now. 

Her heart breaks for the years it will take for her to heal from this trauma.

She swallows, directing almost sympathetically. “Get Brandi and get out of here.” A bit of emotion fills her as she offers a small, sad smile. “Take them home.”

Shock flashes in his eyes, as well as something else she can’t place her hand on. But, he nods, swallowing deeply.  “Thank you.”

Solana says nothing, simply walking closer to gently stroke Emma’s cheek. “You are one brave little girl.”

Emma doesn’t say anything, but Solana doesn’t expect her to. She just needs her to know that. To know that in all of this, she possessed strength and courage.

That she survived.

As Cody walks away, Solana looks around at the faces of those staying and remaining, willing to stand with and by her. 

Friends.

Family. 

She nods, determination and adrenaline racing through her blood while accepting the knife from Afia extends to her. 

“Let’s go.”

—--------

Not an iota of shock fills Roman when he finds Solo in a large open space in the building similar to where he found Solana.

No, he knew Solo would be waiting for him the second his younger cousin realized that not only had he come, but he came with an army. An army that’s almost entirely decimated the traitorous bastards who chose to stand against Roman.

A fatal decision, clearly.

“Gotta hand it you,” Solo starts, standing up from the chair where he sits. “Well played.”

Roman says nothing. He simply starts removing his vest, ridding himself of what is not needed.

No weapons are required for this. This is deeper than two enemies coming to face off in a final round.

For all intents and purposes, this is tribal combat, and the only things needed for that are anger, motivation, and determination.

All of which Roman has an abundance of. 

Solo stands up and also starts to remove his tactical gear as well as the red ula fala around his neck. Both men rid of the necessities, there’s a sort of predatory dance that occurs between them. Solo chuckles. “You know it’s not too late.” He has the fucking audacity to raise his chin, a sense of faux supremacy lacing his voice. “Acknowledge me, and I might spare your ass.” 

If not for the rage that almost feels too much for Roman to function properly, he might laugh. This fucker is straight up delusional. 

The hell would he ever acknowledge this son of a bitch.

It’s difficult for Roman to not lunge first, his fist burning at his side to break every bone in Solo’s body. He will, he most definitely will, but it’s always worked best for Roman to allow his opponents to get the first hit. To make them think they have the upper hand by landing the first blow.

And, Solo is no different. 

He charges at Roman, the older, taller man allowing him a punch to the face.

And nothing more.

Roman returns the blow, Solo’s body nearly jerking back to the floor from the single hit that’s effectively broken his nose. It doesn’t stop there, because Solo’s second of delay, that moment where he’s frazzled from such a powerful punch, is all the in that Roman needs.

Spearing him down to the floor, Roman channels all of his emotions—heavy, light, somewhere in between—into the onslaught of violence being directed toward the man he once considered family. 

Roman’s expertise and experience is blatantly obvious. He moves methodically, predatory, and borderline animalistic. He uses anything in the vicinity to slam Solo’s body into, enjoying the cuts and blood that starts to mar his cousin. His blows are brutal, Roman’s blood boiling with every crunch and crack sound that echoes throughout the space.

He’s every bit focused on maximizing the pain and prolonging the torture, knowing he can’t make this son of a bitch suffer as much as he deserves, but with the time he does have, he’ll use every bit of it.

One hand wrapped around his neck, Roman slams Solo down into a nearby, deteriorating wood table, Solo’s shout of pain from the splinters that enter his body from the collapse of the desk under his weight are music to Roman’s ears. He could bottle that shit up and play it for all eternity, because no amount of physical pain could ever equate to the pain that son of a bitch has caused him.

Roman’s big body heaves as he notices a slab of wood with nails and other sharp objects. His next source of torture that he stalks toward, fully intending to break it off into Solo’s fat ass.

“It was me, you know.” A new voice, familiar but not present. Not previously, at least. Roman spins around to see none other than a smirking Rikishi. Roman starts stalking toward him, instantly adding him next to the chop block list. “I helped Dusty plan the hit on your family.”

It takes a lot to pull Roman from his focus, to deter him from his mission, to get him off his game. 

And that….that is most definitely one of the things. 

“What?” He takes another step, confusion mixing with anger. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Rikishi smiles. “Might as well have said I killed them. Killed them all. Well, everyone except you and that bitch, Fetu.” Each word that leaves his mouth is like a dagger to Roman’s chest. He doesn’t believe him, he doesn’t want to believe him. But, it makes sense.

Rikishi’s hatred has to be beyond the incident with Solana. It’s deeper than that. It has to be.

But, if what he’s saying is true, if he was a part of the plan that killed Roman’s family, that almost killed him, there’s a certain hurt and pain with that that cuts almost deeper than any of this.

A sort of evil Roman can’t truly comprehend in this moment.

“Your father was a weak man who didn’t deserve to be Tribal Chief. Just like you don’t.” Riksihi laughs, salt on an open wound, drawing Roman’s attention back to him. “Tell me, is it true you could hear your sisters screaming for help as they burned alive?”

Roman moves to lunge forward when something sudden, sharp, and piercing stops him. He grunts, pain shooting through his body when he looks down to see Solo holding the knife that he just stabbed into Roman’s side. A knife he jerks out, prompting Roman to fall to his hands and knees, face turned up in pain.

Pain that intensifies as Solo kicks him on his side, forcing him onto his back. Solo lands a blow onto Roman, but that adrenaline fuels the older man as he gains the upper hand, fighting through his pain and landing a blow on top of Solo when a loud sound and another type of pain hits him.

Gunshot. He’s been shot through the shoulder. A loud curse tumbles out of his mouth as he moves his hand over the area where he was shot only months earlier.

Out the corner of his eye, he sees a smirking Rikishi, gun in hand, but it’s a temporary focus point, because seconds later, there’s something pressed against the back of his head. 

Another gun.

“Don’t make me do this, uce.” 

The situation drastically shifts, taking yet another turn and twist that Roman could have never anticipated. 

Jey’s voice drips with regret, but he remains unmoved, standing with a gun to the back of Roman’s head.

His cousin.

His supposed brother.

“You son of a bitch,” Roman grits, groaning from the pain of both sets of injuries, feeling the blood from where he was stabbed soaking his shirt. 

“Pull the trigger, Jey,” Solo goads, coughing up blood from where Roman remains straddled on top of him, pinning him down. “Blow—blow his fucking head off.”

“You embarrassed me once, Jey,” Rikishi scolds from behind, voice cold and uncaring. “Don’t do it again.”

At that, Roman’s eyes shut, they shut from a lot of things. From the information told, from the information learned, from all that’s happened. But, they shut mostly because of one person. 

Solana. 

Her face is the only thing he sees. The only thing he thinks about in such a moment when maybe his focus should be elsewhere, like how to get out of this situation. But, it’s nearly impossible. He’s hurt. Badly. And, he’s cornered.

This realization, this forced acceptance of some sort leaves him one desire and one desire only. His wife. He thinks of his wife. She’s safe. His daughters are safe. And for Roman, that’s all that matters.

He fulfilled his goal, upheld his promise. 

His wife and children will live. 

So, if this is truly it, if this is truly the moment where he meets his end, he can die content. 

He can die happy.

“What the fuck are you waiting on, Jey?” Rikishi scolds, frustration brewing. “Fucking ki–” His demand is cut off, the sound of the gun clanking to the floor accompanied by his head tilted and forced back due to the knife pressed dangerously close to his throat.

“One fucking move, and I can cut your jugular vein, leaving you dead in minutes,” Solana hisses, pressing the knife she has aimed into his back further in, cutting through the material of his suit jacket. “Or, I can sever your artery of Adamkiewicz, which could also leave you dead in minutes. Plain and simple? You move as much as an inch, and I’ll gut you like a fish.” She swears, pushing the knife just a little deeper, mouth near his ear, voice mocking, “how’s that for an uneducated, stupid bitch?”

Roman tenses, floored but mostly confused at his wife’s presence. She shouldn’t be here. He told them to get her the hell out of here. Out of harms way. 

Now, she stands directly in the line of fucking fire. His stomach drops, physical pain dulled by a newfound sense of concern. “Solana—”

“You drop that gun from my husband’s head right now, Jey, or I swear to God, I’ll kill him.” She threatens, completely ignoring Roman, entirely focused on Jey and maintaining the deadly corner she has Rikishi in. “Drop the fucking gun, Jey!” 

One look at Jey, and torn isn’t the right word to describe what’s written all over his face. Nevertheless, he doesn’t drop the gun. “Solana—”

She screams, her shout echoing throughout the room, slamming and bouncing off the walls. “DROP IT!”

Rikishi suddenly chuckles, voice haughty and mocking. “You don’t have the guts—” He winces loud enough to gather the attention of both sons as Solana presses the knife at his back just enough to draw blood. 

“You have no idea what I'd do, the lengths I'd go to, to protect that man,” she vows, never once stuttering or wavering as she gives Jey one final warning. “I’m not gonna fucking say it again, drop—”

This time, Solana is the one whose silenced, dread filling Roman as he sees Nia appear behind her, gun in hand.

The same gun she has pressed against the back of his wife’s head. 

And, she’s not alone, several sets of Bloodline guards, traitors, hone in, guns drawn on both the true Tribal Chief and his wife.

“You should have stayed your ass outside, Princess.” She sneers, smile evil and malicious. “Coming in here alone? What kind of stupid are you?”

Roman can’t look away, can’t bring himself to do so, even as he feels his body weakening on him.  And, it’s because he can’t look away, he sees the almost smirk on Solana’s face as she asks in the calmest voice, “who said I was alone?”

Not even seconds later, Nia is jerked back, her big body falling to the floor from the emergence of Afia. Afia, who is suddenly on top of her, large knife in hand that she slashes across Nia’s throat. Nia is barely able to process what’s just happened when Afia pulls out her gun and shoots her directly in the middle of the head, killing her instantly. 

It’s not the only death that occurs. Bayley, Santos, Matteo and Dwayne, all appear, taking down the guards by both bullets, knives, and the sickening sound of a neck snapping. Courtesy of Bayley.

Rikishi's forehead is glazed with sweat, as is Solo’s, revealing strong indicators of growing nerves. Of the reality of the situation setting in. 

And yet, Jey still hasn’t dropped the gun.

Hence why Dwayne has his aimed directly at his cousin. “You don’t want to do this, Jey.” He’s slowly stepping forward. “Put the gun down, son.”

Jey’s expression is one of pure indecision, his voice frazzled sounding as he informs, “they got Nicki, Roman.” He informs, as if this makes it right. As if it gives him a reason for his betrayal. “My kids can’t lose their mother, uce.”

“We can find her, Jey,” Bayley pleads, knife in hand as she moves close to Solana, same as Afia, both women serving as buffers. “This isn’t the way.”

Jey’s bottom lip trembles, the weight of this moment weighing on him. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, man!”

“It doesn’t have to be, Jey,” Matteo’s voice is dangerously calm as he zeroes in on Jey from another angle. “Just put the gun down, and we can—”

It all happens so fast. Rikishi attempts to reach for the gun on the floor near his feet, an arrogant, fatal mistake, because it’s a mere matter of seconds that pass in between the time he’s reaching and when he’s gasping for breath, one hand over his now cut throat as blood streams out. In two areas, because there’s also a large wound in his back where Solana ran the knife through, making good on her threat.

“Dad!” 

Jey shouts, finally lowering the gun and moving towards Solana and Rikishi, whose big body drops onto the floor as he continues to look wide eyed, unable to speak nor process what’s just occurred. He seems entirely focused on his father, on his father who now lies dying in his arms.  

But, it’s a risk no one is willing to take. 

Not with the move he just pulled.

A shot rings out and Jey jerks back, cursing loudly, falling to the floor, holding onto his shoulder where he’s been hit.

Hit by Dwayne. 

Non-fatal, but grounding.

And with both his dad and brother now down, one with mortal wounds, Solo is also distracted long enough, aiding the true Tribal Chief with exactly what he needs. 

Roman easily grabs the knife out Solo’s hand and juts it into his shoulder, intentionally avoiding a fatal spot, joy filling him at the howl released. 

Jey grunts, holding onto his bleeding shoulder, sitting near his gasping for breath father. “Roman, please—”

But, it’s the Tribal Chief, not Roman, who methodically, lowers and lifts the knife over and over into Solo’s face and body, severing off his nose, practically sawing off his lips, cutting off his ears, Solo’s agonizing sounds of pain only silenced when Roman lands the knife directly into Solo’s heart.

His body jerks, a sound, a gasp is made, and then nothing.

Just the stillness of death.

Only then does Roman drop the knife and roll over onto his back, exhaustion from his injuries catching up to him.

“Roman!”

Solana shouts, running over to him. On her knees, she pulls him up, face paling with a devastating realization. “No….”

She’s not certain, can’t be sure, but by the amount of blood he's losing, he was stabbed close to an artery.

If not in an artery.

Her eyes water, as she caresses his face. “You’re gonna be okay, mi amor.” 

Solana moves quickly, pulling off her sweater, leaving just the bullet proof vest covering her thin blood stained tank top. She uses it to apply pressure to stop or hold off as much of the bleeding as possible from the stab wound. Gaze lifted to Dwayne and Matteo, she pleads, “help me get him up.” An unnecessary request as they were already moving to do so, helping a weakened Roman stand. 

As she goes to walk behind them, staying close to Roman, she overhears Jey’s loud curses at Afia, Bayley, and Santos who only try to help him up. He swats them away, denying their assistance, remaining with his now deceased father and brother. 

Alone.

—-------

Getting Roman outside the building and loaded into a truck takes much longer than Solana likes. It all takes too long. Dwayne and Matteo opting to go with her, the former driving as Matteo sits in the front seat after they help Roman into the back where he leans into Solana. The time it takes for her shaking hands to remove her bulletproof vest, wanting to feel her husband against her, body to body. 

Even the rushed goodbyes as the others load into different SUVs heading elsewhere or maybe following them. Solana isn’t sure. She just knows it all takes too long when time is not on their side. 

She holds him, his large, heavy body leaning into her, his breathing haggard, both his shirt and her own soaked and drenched with blood, the same as her sweater that she keeps pressed against his wound, doing her best to buy them as much time.

She doesn’t ask how far they are away from the hospital.

She won’t.

Roman’s voice is pained and weakened almost. “Solana—”

“No.” The most perfect combination of emotional and stern. A single word that’s the equivalent of someone standing in front of a door that’s threatening to burst at the seams, completely overwhelmed to the point of explosion. And, the explosion would be Solana’s calm, her sanity, because she cannot fathom nor will she even entertain what he might be trying to tell her. “Just–just rest.”

Trembling hands move up and down his shoulders. “Don’t talk. Just—just listen.” A quiet, still stern command that’s both for his physical wellbeing and her mental stability. And, while his silence might be the worst thing ever for most people, for her, it’s calming in a sense. 

Solana moves her hands to his head, stroking his hair, loose and wild. She keeps it out of the way, makes sure none of the blood that seeps through his shirt and onto her own clothing makes its way onto his silky mane. “It’s tonight,” her voice cracks, as she reminds him, “I–I told you I would tell you tonight.”

A night unlike any she’s ever experienced, she won’t let it pass without making good on her promise.

She doesn’t care about the presence of the other two men, doesn’t care what they overhear, what they learn.

It doesn’t matter. 

The only thing that matters is keeping Roman awake.

He can’t lose consciousness.

“I—I wanna use the money to create a foundation,” she starts off, having to revisit the many exciting realizations she’d stumbled across while on her trip. A trip that seems so long ago now. “I want to open up domestic violence shelters for women and children. One here and one in Mexico.” Solana holds him a little tighter, does her best to make him as comfortable as one can be in this situation. She knows the friction of the truck speeding through uneven terrain doesn’t help, but she hopes her words and information can allot him some type of solace. “And, I—I wanna name the foundation after my mother.”

That last part was something that took her a minute to settle on, the confusing, unresolved feelings of hurt, anger, and resentment towards the woman who loved and cared for her for the first ten years of her life, partially clouding her judgment. Solana had almost forgotten why that was an area she’s so passionate about.

Because while her mother wasn’t perfect and didn’t make all the right decisions, she was still a victim, too. She, like so many other women, lost her life in trying to make a better life for her daughter. For Solana. Alma didn’t do everything right, but in the end, she made the ultimate sacrifice.

And, Solana knows countless other women like her mother are out there, and she wants to use the time she has left on this earth to make it so that the number of women trapped in domestic violent relationships, along with their kids, have the help and resources Alma didn’t.

“I’m gonna double major in nursing and business, so I have that business knowledge, too.” She strokes his lightly bruised cheek, adding in a light voice. “You might have to help me sometimes with homework and stuff.”

Roman’s quiet chuckle is hard to appreciate with the grimace that follows it. He’s in pain. She knows it, and she hates it. Hates that she can’t miraculously heal him from his injuries. Can’t make the truck go any faster than it’s already going. All she can do is continue to try to soothe him with her words, distracting and informative. 

Another wave of emotion hits as Solana transitions to the more sentimental realizations. “Cataleya….I want…I want her middle name to be Alma, after….after my mother.” Scenes and flashes from the dreams of the quieter of their girls, her soft smile and warm eyes. “Because she…she has my mother’s gentle, pure aura about her.” Solana shifts just enough, moving in sync with Roman who groans quietly. “Catalina…” Solana is the one to chuckle this time, sharing, “her middle name will be Fetu.” Solana can feel it, she doesn’t know how or why, but she can feel the way he tenses almost in her arms. A tension that melts into something close to calm. “Because she has that fire in her like her daddy and her great aunt.” Flashes of their brave, strong little girl with nothing but determination and resilience.

Just like her daddy.

“And our son.” Her voice cracking reveals the toll of the situation that’s finally making its impact on her known, but Solana shoves it away. Forces it back. Not right now. “I want to name our son after you.” Solana angles her head to look at him as she gently caresses his cheek. “I wanna name him Tamasa.”

Roman’s eyes are shut, a small almost solemn smile on his face. "Yeah?"

She nods, eyes watering once more. "Yeah."

Because, she can't think of a better, stronger, kinder man than to name their firstborn son after.

It would be an honor. Truly.

Something settles in Roman's gaze, something distant and somber. His eyes close, his voice low and exhausted. “I love you.”

For the first in her life, those are the three words she doesn’t enjoy hearing. Not from him. 

Because she knows exactly what he’s saying.

He’s saying goodbye.

“No.” Solana can’t breathe. She can only shake her head, moving her hands to his face, slapping him lightly. “Roman, stay with me.” She’s only slightly relieved to see his eyes fluttering, a sign that he’s still fighting, still breathing. “You can’t leave me, okay?” He says nothing, just continues to look at her with that sad, solemn grin on his handsome face. “We have to build our house, remember? We—we have to have our big family.” Lips trembling, she presses against his temple, murmuring and crying against him, “you’re going to be okay.” 

A promise to him. A promise for herself.

For their daughters in her stomach and the children they’ll have after.

Because, Solana refuses to accept anything else.

She’s been through hell.

Roman has been through hell.

Their story won’t end this way. She won’t let it.

But, then the truck stops. Stops moving altogether, and she nearly loses it.

“What are you doing?” Solana sounds every bit as frantic as she feels. “Drive! He’s losing too much blood, we have to—we have to get him to the hospital!" Speaking aloud the uncomfortable truth and reality is a crushing, cumbersome thing. Because the reality is that while her words soothed him in some ways, it didn’t stop nor slow down the blood that continues to soak him, her, and the seat of the car.

A devastating reminder that time is most definitely not on their side. Every fucking second is precious, and she won’t stand for any of it being wasted.

“Drive!” She screams once more, nearly hyperventilating when both Matteo and Dwayne hop out of the truck. A nervous breakdown is right around the corner until the side door is ripped open, and a blinding light forces Solana to look away, protectively cradling her husband. 

But, it’s not just the light, there’s sound. It’s loud. Familiar. Chipped, intermittent. Deafening in some ways. 

The light is eclipsed by two bulky figures, Matteo and Dwayne. 

Solana realizes they’re pulling Roman away from her.

And, the panic sets in.

“No!”

“Solana, look!” Matteo’s voice is urgent and pressing, one hand restricting her, which only exacerbates her anxiety and anger.

But, she does look, and when she does, it’s an instant switch. 

The panic that filled and threatened to overwhelm her is melted into an abundance of relief as she takes in the scene before her, nothing short of a miracle.

A helicopter with the same color patterns as the local hospital, the star of life, blades moving rapidly, as if ready to take off at any moment. Bright lights on and doors opened, two medical professionals rush out to meet Dwayne who’s helping Roman remain upright and on his feet.

“We knew someone would be needing medical attention,” Matteo informs, as she looks over at him wide eyed and bursting with appreciation. "So, we prepared ahead of time." He gestures to where Dwayne can be seen talking to the paramedic, likely explaining the nature of Roman’s injuries.

If not for the situation, Solana would 1000% express to Matteo her immense gratitude. For everything. For it all.

But, in this moment, her only concern, the only thing she can think about, is being with her husband.

Solana is once again a frantic mess as she moves to climb out the truck, her legs carrying her over just in time as she tells, not asks, the flight paramedic, “I’m going with him.”

She’s met with zero protests despite the tight space, Roman’s big body taking up more space than the average person. Of that, she’s sure.

But, none of that matters. 

There’s a bit of a blur around her, as they work to get an IV into Roman, talks of tourniquets, hemostatic dressings, blood transfusions, while they work to get him as stable as possible as the helicopter lifts off, carrying them to the hospital where he’ll get the medical treatment he needs.

The treatment that will save his life. 

And, that’s what matters to Solana. That’s what has her finally sobbing, her hand in his, both caked in old and fresh blood, the same blood that stains her clothing and body, some splatters on her face. It’s all irrelevant. All immaterial.

They’re safe.

Roman is safe. 

He’s going to be alright.

He’s going to live.

She’s safe. 

She’s going to be alright.

And most importantly, their babies are safe.

The girls are going to be alright.

It’s a welcomed, cherished, moving thing and scene that contrasts the backdrop of a sudden loud boom, a painting of orange and yellow hues that paint the night sky miles behind and under. An explosion at the same plant where they just were.

Where some still remain.

--------

a/n: these two have been through enough. to kill off either of them would be trauma porn. not to mention, neither would ever really, truly recover if they lost one another. it would make all their progress null and void.

[coralinnii]

Hi! I saw that you were opening your requests for the next day or so to celebrate getting 2.7k followers! First off, I wanna say congratulations, and may you have a good day/night (almost wrote 'not' lol)!

Anyways, I read your rules, and wondered if I could get a fic with Leona, Vil, Malleus, and Lilia being in a relationship with a Venti! Reader? Essentially, Venti is a Genshin Impact character who plays the lyre, controls the wind, and has a playful personality.

‧₊˚✧ As Free as the Wind ‧₊˚✧

↳ Twst guys with a Venti!reader 

feat: Leona ❋ Vil ❋ Malleus ❋ Lilia  genre: humor, mild fluff note: no pronouns were used with the reader, Venti!reader is of legal age to drink, no spoilers regarding the Genshin Impact storyline, minor spoilers for TWST Book 7

Thank you reading my rules, always appreciate the extra effort people make! I deeply apologize for how late I am with this, but I hope you enjoy the post. Hopefully I captured Venti's personality well enough >_<'

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

Ooff, did he first thought you were a pain in his tail. 

Loud, cheeky, no fear of disturbing anyone for entertainment or favors… at least Ruggie has the decency to be useful. 

He scoffed when you smile and act as if he can’t sense a dangerous well of power within you, the playful persona you present may fool a common man but not Leona.  

He’ll play your game though. There’s no benefit to him to pry into your secrets. He finds this side of you, the one that would play a soft ballad for him for some booze money, much easier to deal with. 

This is a strange relationship, but Leona can respect someone strong and most of all, doesn't tell him what to do. You believe in free will and freedom above else, which Leona appreciates. 

“The concept of one king ruling over all... I can’t say I’m too interested in a land like that.” 

Leona laughed at your boldness. With you, there’s no sense about stuffy responsibilities and obligations. 

There are sweet days where you and Leona would spend the day in the greenhouse, Leona sleeping soundly as you play your lyre while humming your new poems, the wind carrying your melodic voice. 

“Huh, do you have a song for me? Hah, what do you want from me this time? Fine, I’ll let you play.”

Vil immediately clocked something powerful about you, your nonchalant persona is good, but you cannot fool a seasoned actor like him. 

No matter, though. Vil has no interest in delving into someone’s past like that. Vil assumes that if you must act so easy-going yet private about yourself, then he won’t pry into such things. One must have reasons, he supposed. 

However, Vil cannot let go of your pension for the “occasional” drink or two. Vil doesn’t care that you are older than your appearance suggest, alcohol impacts your body and health as you age so he rather you limit that little habit of yours. 

“Come now, Vil. Another bottle wouldn’t hurt~” 

“Hmmph, you don’t have to worry much about yourself when you’re drunk but I most certainly do, especially when you come to me reeking of wine.”

But you always managed to quell his anger by singing ballads and poems about your wonderful beloved Vil. That always lifts the Housewarden’s mood and you end up with a mere reprimanding. Hehe.

Vil will not, however, forgive you so easily if you get too mischievous with him. The beautiful man can respect your talent with wind and currents, but he doesn’t appreciate the gust you would conjure up if it messes up Vil’s appearance too much. 

“Don’t even think about running away from me. I know you were behind the sudden rush of wind, my mischievous one. Acting cute or sweet words is not going to work this time.”

However youthful you may appear, Malleus can sense an old soul within you which feels familiar and powerful. 

Malleus is often surprised by you, for your playful and bold nature while handling the wild winds as skillfully as you hold the lyre. You bear similarities to a certain someone that he can’t help but respect you and hold you to a higher regard than any typical being. 

Malleus doesn’t hate that easygoing personality of yours. On the contrary, he enjoys that spontaneous side of yours as you suggest the strangest of ideas to a powerful figure such as him. 

“Let's go jumping in puddles and see who can make the biggest splash!“

You are a sociable being, making friends so easily that it baffles the young fae. A few cute words from you and it was suddenly so easy to lower one’s guard around you. 

However, when you’re alone and don’t realize his presence, Malleus catches that gleam of loneliness in your eyes as you gaze from your tall resting spot. A look that Malleus feels a kinship with you in that regard.

”You would like to take a stroll with me tonight? Oh, a race in the sky, you say? Very well, but don't be conceited enough to believe I’m so easily bested.”

Dear Sevens, why would you ever let these two chaotic gremlins be in the same vicinity? Do you know no mercy for others?  

The two of you would hit it off so well, it’s almost concerning. Lilia finds you a delight to be around, almost a kindred spirit even. 

“So, you also took care of a dragon long ago.” 

“Yeap, but he sorta became a nation-wide threat when I decided to leave and go off on my own.” 

“Ah yes, those things do tend to happen.” 

(if you can’t tell who’s saying what, that really speaks to how similar a coincidence that was)

Jamming sessions ALL. THE. TIME. The campus has not known a single moment of rest as you display your musical talents in the courtyard while Lilia encourages you all the way, occasionally playing along with an instrument of his own.

Lilia is fascinated by your lyrical retellings of your world and would love to visit this kingdom that values freedom among all else, and of this dandelion wine you speak so lovingly about.

As a man with his own… history, Lilia isn’t the type to ask too much about you if he sees you dodging the question. He can recognize that familiar look of longing and loss, so Lilia doesn’t press further and instead indulge with you in one more glass of bittersweet wine. 

“What tales do you have to regale for tonight? I’m always captivated by these grand adventures of yours, it’s almost tempting for this old soul of mine, hehe.”

[thebadboyfanclub]

Together As One (Daemon x Reader)

So this is more a twisted love type of hype, I hope you guys like the way I portrayed this request cause I wanted to give it more of a dark edge since Daemon is definitely a gray character. Hope you enjoy!

Mothers love their children, everyone could agree upon the unconditional love mothers held for their kind with no doubt in their hearts, songs, poems, plays, and any type of art one can think of have attempted to portray such devotion. None, however, could predict that some mothers have a certain type of fear for their child, like some whisper in the back of their heads warning them about the little glimpse in their eyes that was not like the stars but more of a scorching fire threading to burn everything.

That was the exact feeling Rhaenys had for her beloved daughter, the twin sister of Laenor, it would often baffle her how her husband could not see what was clearly there, (y/n) was always in competition with everyone about everything, the finest clothes belonged to her, she had to ride a dragon first, learn Valyrian faster.

Whilst Rhaenys prayed for her daughter's thirst to settle, the others praised her for her bravery, her determination, and her intellect, something that made (y/n) yearn for more.

“I would like to raise a toast to my dear brother, a married man to our future queen, may your wedlock be blessed with numerous children and a road paved with nothing but joy and success, Prince Daemon, hopefully you are next”

(Y/n) stood with a smile of triumph dancing on her lips before she raised her cup to gently take a sip, as she sat down Daemon's eyes followed her, he was well aware of her game, though he seemed unfazed and almost amused by her comment the truth laid somewhere deeper than the surface, not a single soul in this room would have been able to guess that the delighted twin of now future king consort was playing a game of cat and mouse with none other than prince daemon behind closed doors.

(Y/n) had been relentless in her ways to seduce Daemon, sneaking out at all hours of the night, sending people after him so she could know his whereabouts just so she could magically appear, the combination of sweet wine and her alluring voice was enough for Daemon to stumble and fall right on top of her, taking her for a ride to the addictive roads of lust.

She was stunning, flawless, a true Targaryen that screamed opulence and elegance with a face sculpted by the gods, the common folk would gush over the “oceans Angel” a nickname given by the realm for her angelic features, how would they know how dark her mind could get in order to make everyone yield before her?

-

“Mother”

“Dearest, how are you on this fine morrow?”

“I am well, the little one finally decided to let me get some rest”

“When I was pregnant with you I remember thinking you would kick your way out of my belly, the Apple does not fall far from the tree”

(Y/n)s daughter, Leora, leaned as much as she could to kiss her mother's cheek before she sat down next to her to break her fast, queen Alicent had already taken her seat along with her daughter Heleana and (y/n)s other son Elion, Alicent and (y/n) enjoyed each others presence, a mutual bond based on respect had been build over the years that was sealed by marrying Leora with Aegon and Elion with Heleana.

“The maester said you should drink more orange juice, it will help with the fatigue”

“As well as eat more meat, pregnancy is no easy task, you must be as strong as ever”

Alicent chimed, the birth of her second grandchild was one of the most important events, Alicent adored her first grandchild, beautiful Hael, a strong boy who was just now starting to learn how to walk, still, he had everyone wrapped around his finger.

“I appreciate your concerns but I am fine, healthy as a horse”

“It wouldn’t hurt, let us not risk it dearest”

“I thought once I get older I wouldn’t have to listen to my mother”

“Well I am sorry but that will never happen, drink”

(Y/n) had stepped up and appeared as the perfect mother, loving, kind, and caring, she did love her children, however, what she loved most was the things they could do for her, her firstborn daughter was now the wife of the king first born son, and her son was a strong, skill full knight that served the realm and came back in triumph, how could she not adore her perfect creations?

“How is the king?”

“I am afraid his health is decreasing, the maesters advise him to remain abed for the day”

“Rhaenyra will be questioned, he won’t sit this one out I am afraid”

“Ugh the precious Rhaenyra, I wish I could stay in my chambers until those god-forsaken days pass”

(Y/n)s smile was wiped from her face and in an instant it was replaced with an angry scowl, in a split second her hand had grasped her daughter, Leoras' eyes went wide with fear when they met the angry hues of her mothers.

“You mustn’t speak in such a way, I’ve taught you better”

Leora only nodded frantically, (y/n) had her own opinions over Rhaenyra, she however, knew better than to voice them, not even in such a secluded area of the palace, (y/n)s hold turned from forceful to a caress before she directed her eyes back to her friend and queen Alicent.

“Besides, the king will do as he wishes and if the gods bless him with the strength to stand he should be there, isn’t it right Alicent?”

“I couldn’t have phrased it better, my dear”

-

(Y/n) and Alicent were each other's shadows, one compelled the other and in the end one way or the other the result was one of their favor, (y/n) was disciplined and had mastered the act of a gracious and lovely princess, Alicent was strict and slipped under everyone’s nose as she cloaked herself with the act of a pious queen, the two of them had years up on the horse of being able to maneuver their way around the kingdom so the men would not suspect a damn thing.

Viserys had seemed to get worst which made him unable to attend even when Daemon and (y/n) went to his room to assist him, the king could not even sit up let alone walk, Daemon was disheartened, thankfully for him his dutiful and beautiful wife let him rest on her shoulder and like a soothing salve her encouraging words went over his wound of his beloved older brother nearing his end.

“My Love”

“(Y/n)? What- what has happened?”

“I apologize for waking you up my dear, it is your brother”

“Viserys? What about- no”

“My dear husband, you must be strong, I am so sorry”

(Y/n) grasped Daemon's hands tightly before she brought them up to her lips to kiss his knuckles, of course, she was one of the first to know, Alicent had rushed to her chamber and delivered the news herself, she had waited patiently as the king took his last breath, Alicent told no one, not even the maester, (y/n) had to know before anyone.

“Viserys”

Daemon had been taken over by his thoughts, they’ve always had their differences but at the end of the day, they shared the same mother and father, a bond that could never be broken, no matter how many times Daemon has run off he always ended up by Viserys side.

“My love, I understand that this is too much for you, however, we must prepare our daughter”

“What does Elora have to do with this?”

“She is to be queen, she needs her father”

“Queen? Have you gone mad?”

(Y/n) bit her bottom lip in combination with her head tilting to the side, as if nothing but a mere candle lit her face Daemon could still identify the features that he so adored but now he could not wrap his head around what was his wife suggesting.

“My lord husband, King Viserys has left us, it is only natural for his son to succeed him”

“It is expected for his firstborn, Rhaenyra, to do so, not Aegon”

“Where is the princess? But in a place where she could have visited if she wished, when has she even attempted to come and visit her beloved father who was in agony all these years? She only came when her privilege was at risk and then blamed Alicent who has served by the king's side for his illness”

“This is not a matter to discuss”

“But it is, the gods know I loved Viserys and he had been good to me, but let us not forget he killed his first wife in his desperate attempt for a male heir, he remarried and Alicent gave him an heir and a spare and still it was not good enough, he passed by you and his sons to bury his guilt by calling Rhaenyra the heir, it wasn’t because he trusted her or because he saw something in her, he passed the title on to her because he did not trust you and then because he wanted to wash the blood of queen Aemmas from his hands”

Silence fell upon them, (y/n) pulled away from her husband and headed towards the door, as his hand rested upon the handle she turned her head back to lord husband who was visibly shaken, (y/n) might appear disheartened but she could detect that her monologue had started to creep on to Daemons heart.

“I love you with all my heart, that is why I shall leave you to grieve, if you wish to run to her I will…. Understand, it is not like I ever doubted the unconditional love you have for the realm delight, now might be your chance to pursue it”

Her tone was drowning in sorrow leaving Daemon with an unwavering sense of guilt in a dark room as his wife had disappeared to place her hand over a war of fire and blood, (y/n) was correct, Daemon did love Rhaenyra, still, he did not place his flame for her over what he had built with his wife over the years.

(Y/n) walked away with a smile of triumph, she had done her part flawlessly and now she was certain that Daemon would be by her side before the crown was placed on Aegons head, however, she did not have time to waste, Alicent and (y/n) were the ones to wake the new king and queen, preparing them for what they had destined to be.

“You may enter”

“Prince Daemon is asking to see his daughter and wife, alone”

(Y/n) stopped brushing her daughter's head, carefully placing the golden brush down before she looked down at her daughter who nodded in approval.

“Let him in, do not allow anyone to disturb us”

“Right away”

The girl curtsied as quickly as possible before she disappeared only to be replaced by none other than Daemon. (Y/n) took a sharp inhale through her nose once he entered the room, preparing herself for a mental battle, surprisingly when her eyes scanned for his she was met with a certain lightness, an ease to him that caught her by a pleasant surprise.

Instinctively a small smile played on her lips, her Daemon was dressed in his black attire, leather suited him, and his hair was pulled away from his face the way she always told him to do it.

(Y/n) was not made of stone, she might play like she is though her heart skipped a beat every time she was near her lord husband, Daemon was one of the very few people that (y/n) would throw herself in the fire, even though their love felt like the flames licked her back, that sweet pain of admiration and devotion that the poets would sing and the common folk would go mad.

“My dearest loves”

Daemon declared, that their daughter rose from her chair and ran to her father, she was always the one known to succumb to emotions and this time (y/n) could not scold her over it, Leora was her father's daughter, (y/n) might not have spoken over the matter only to allow the young girl the solidarity of her feelings, inside Leora was always waiting for her father to walk through this door.

“You look beautiful, a perfect gown for the queen”

“Father I-“

“Before I handed you over to Aegon I made you a promise, do you remember it?”

“I will do anything to see you happy”

“I will put myself through war if you tell me that this is what you want, all you have to do is say it”

Daemon was no fool, he was certain that the second that crown graced his daughter's head a war would nip their heels, Rhaenyra would not go down without a fight and that meant that Daemon would have to face her in battle, a battle he was willing to put for his lovely Leora.

“I want to be queen, I want Aegon to be our king”

“Very well, I wish you a fruitful reign, may the Gods smile down upon you”

‘May the Gods have mercy on us’ he thought, with a smile he brushed away those dark thoughts only to place a kiss on his daughter's forehead, a small part of him screamed that this was the right thing, his brother never thought he was good enough, now his brother was on the ground and his daughter was crowned queen and would carry on the legacy of the Targaryen name.

“Go on now, I want to have a word with your mother”

“I will be waiting for you”

Leora informed them before she gave them the privacy Daemon desired. (Y/n) stood as still as a statue, her heart pounding on her chest as her throat grew dry and scratchy, she was the master of composure up until now, faced with the only person who could make her waver.

“My beautiful, sweet lady wife, you spoke harshly last night”

“I spoke nothing but the truth”

She threw back in a cold tone. Daemon only smirked as he started to approach her, she did not dare to move, (y/n) was comforted by his light-hearted manner though there was an underlying mischief, Daemon was playing something, and (y/n) was left trying to catch up before it is too late.

Daemon stood before her, his arm finding her forearms and giving them a gentle squeeze, his eyes gazing back at hers with a glimmer that (y/n) had grown to yearn for, she despised the fact that she had to manipulate him like this, she was left with no other choice but to do this, a side of hers cursed the day Rhaenyras and Daemons fates met, this would have been so much easier had (y/n) been the only women Daemon loved.

“You are so bright, I am almost disappointed that you didn’t foresee this”

“The war?”

“No, me, you think I have not caught wind of all the scheming against Rhaenyra? The upbringing of my daughter to become the wife of my brother's firstborn son, putting our son on the sea the minute he was born to have better knowledge of anything driftmark related to gain the favor of your father, every step you so amazingly calculated with Alicent so you can get our family here”

“You have gone mad”

“I saw behind the facade and that makes you nervous, I was there with you every step of the way you mustn’t be frightened, I let you do all this for only one reason”

“Alright, let us entertain this absurd claim of yours, what is the reason?”

“Because I love you”

(Y/n) mouth slightly parted in shock, Daemon had professed his love for her on multiple occasions but the weight on this one was different, he had pulled what she thought was the perfect cover, leaving her bare in front of him, uncovering her thirst that she had kept away from everyone.

“I love you so much that I will let my daughter become the target on Rhaenyras mind, I will go against the woman that you think threatens your position in my heart, I will put myself in the sword before I let her even get one strand of your hair because you and our daughter want this”

“And you don’t? You always held a grudge over the fact that Viserys never declared you as his heir”

“My brother is dead now and because of you our child wishes to be a queen, I picked you as my second wife because I saw your strength, your determination, you need to come on top, that is the Targaryen fire through and through”

“You truly mean all this?”

“You are my lady wife, you gave me a home, now it is time to show the realm that we are the rightful heirs of the throne, together as one”

(Y/n) reached daemons lips for a passionate kiss, his hands slid down to her waist and pulled her as close as humanly possible, sharing this moment meant everything to (y/n), she had him devotedly by her side, he saw her true nature and walked straight into her fire, surrendering in her and even shielding her and her family.

“Let us find out daughter, I want us to be the ones to place the crown on her head”

“I wouldn’t dare let anyone else have that honor”

Requests are open!

[seeingivy]

picnic

sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

(^^make sure you check since this was a double upload and I posted the last one very recently :D)

--

dear head of the cullen clan,  keep evening plans open – im getting off work early and we’re going on a picnic.  coldest regards,  the head of the volturi  (ps. am expecting a very wholehearted appreciation for the fact that it’s coldest regards and not warmest regards, because they are, in fact, vampires and therefore cold. because they don’t have a heart and such.)  (extra ps. this is a link to a shared spotify playlist. i’ll add a song and then you add one. we’ll keep it going.) 

you snort. 

dear aro of the volturi (does he have a last name???),  so much to unpack in one email, yet again. you really know how to keep a girl on her toes.  first and foremost, you are SOOOO ran through. so offended that i wasn’t the person who got to put you on to twilight and whoever it was, I HOEP SHE DIES! if you’re team jacob, you’re a freak.  second, SO VERY FLATTERED that you think i would be carlisle. a little haunting that you think YOU would be aro…but it’s ok cuz former companions to enemies back to lovers in our case would be kind of crazy???  third. done and done. i just added a song so hurry up bc i have like ten other songs i want to add and i am #impatient  see u after work pookie :D,  carlisle cullen  (very appreciative of the cold regards. you are a king among men.) 

his response back is very prompt. 

Never call me pookie again.  (very offended that you think i’d be stupid enough to be team jacob. and direct your murderous rage towards yuuji and my mom, who forced me to watch it in theaters with them.) 

--

you wait for sukuna at the park two blocks down the apartment complex. the sun is hours away from dipping into the horizon, the chilly wind rustling through the trees. you realize now that the red skirt and white sweater might betray you in a few hours but decide that you’ll simply have to steal his jacket when he gets here. 

and you would have already but he’s twenty minutes late.

and while this part of the city is extremely safe, sukuna’s ever constant fear of people attacking you on subway trains and stabbing you in alleyways has instilled an acute fear of strangers in you, which is why you’re gripping the sparkly pink pepper spray he bought you very harshly in your palm right now. 

you think it’s sweet that he bought you a pink one. 

but of course it’s severely ironic that you almost used it on him. 

because he scares the living daylights out of you, by placing his hand around your shoulder from behind. 

“hey. i’m sorry i-” 

“jesus fuck-” 

you instinctively hold the pepper spray up to his face, your hands shaking in front of you. 

“i’ll use it, you pervert!” 

sukuna leans his head to the side, which is when you’re finally able to log that it’s actually him standing in front of you and not a stranger, and you drop your hands in embarrassment. 

“i mean, i’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t doll face but–” 

“oh my god, sukuna. i thought you were trying to rob me!” 

“i’m smarter than that. the only thing inside your purse is lip gloss, which has very little value to me.” sukuna responds, dropping the little basket at his feet and taking the little stalk of flowers out of the top handle. 

“i’ll have you know that it’s actually sold out in every store right now. so you could make bank if you sold it.” 

“don’t tempt me. and for your sake, i’ll accept the apology you didn’t give me for just trying to rob me of my eyesight and for calling me a pervert? i’m getting really tired of the age gap jokes, y/n.” sukuna responds, as he lifts your hands at your sides and places the stalk of flowers in your hand. 

you give him a big smile as you press your nose to the flowers, the scent fresh in your nose. and sukuna props down, setting a billowing white blanket on the ground before he taps the spot next to him and signals for you to sit next to him. 

“who needs eyes?” you joke, as you squeeze his hands and set the flowers down next to the little basket. 

“me, dipshit. how else am i supposed to look at you?” 

you cover your hands with your cheeks as you watch him place all of the little things inside the basket next to you, laying them out perfectly. it’s albeit a weird assortment – two wine glasses, perfectly wrapped sandwiches, a mini-cake, and strawberry lemonade. 

“well, stop perceiving me. this is so weird!” you murmur. 

it’s enough to catch his attention and stop him in his tracks. 

“what?” 

the question makes you pause. and a little embarrassed. it was a little harsh to say while you were joking.

“oh, i mean…i didn’t mean it like that! i was making a joke about perceiving because eyes…vision…and i almost took your vision away! and you perceive with your eyes, because how else would you see…” 

sukuna smiles, before shaking his head, and continuing spilling out the last of the contents – a set of gouache paints and two little small canvases. and he drops to his feet, yanking his shoes off, before sitting flat on the blanket and gesturing for you to join him. 

“there’s no way in hell that was what you meant. but we’ll ignore that for the time being.” sukuna responds, hiking his legs to his chest and gesturing towards the spread he just put out. 

you tilt your head to the side in confusion. 

“you look very pretty today.” sukuna responds. 

“thanks! you too!” 

he narrows his eyes. 

“uh huh. well, pick what we do first. the paint, the sandwiches, or the weird wine glass cake.” 

“the wine glass cake? like from tiktok?” you ask. 

“correct. i’m really bad at…cute dates. so…i did some research.” 

sukuna refuses to look at you. because after admitting it, he’s suddenly busied himself with reading the back of the box of paints, like it’s the most riveting, intriguing thing he’s ever read in his life. 

but the pink flush that’s creeping down his neck betrays him entirely, as you reach forward and push the little box down. and sukuna’s already glaring at you. 

you place your chin on the top of his knees, reaching for one of his hands and smiling. 

“you did research for a date?” 

“you can choke on your spit.” 

you grin. 

“you really know how to turn a girl on.” 

“you’re filthy.” 

you grin. 

“and you’re actually so precious, i–” 

“don’t call me precious, y/n.” he whines, as he reaches forward to flick on your forehead. 

you smile as you sit by his side, tucking the folds of your skirt under your leg as you reach for both of the wine glasses and hand him one. 

“so how humbling was it to have satoru explain all this to you?” you ask. 

he sneers. 

“don’t even ask. he’s like the biggest nuisance i’ve ever met in my life. top ten worst moments of my life.” sukuna responds. 

“i’m flattered you humbled yourself to him for me.” 

“i actually asked suguru. they’re like…two peas in a pod, they can’t do shit without each other. the paints and stuff they gave me and the nice basket too.” 

“that’s sweet of them. remind me to send them something later to thank them.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“no need. they were more than happy to give it up for you.” 

“ah yes. i hear they’re big fans of this camping bag story. the scouts honor and the fake story we had to tell them makes a lot more sense now.” you respond. 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“okay, you know what? sue me. i was like sixteen sleeping next to a girl for the first time. god forbid i enjoyed myself. and i don’t know why they’re all so hyperfixated on that story because it was a very normal thing to assume when you’re asked that question.”  

you snort. 

“and you say you’re not a pervert…” 

sukuna leans forward, his eyes flitting down to his lips before he looks back up at you. and he can tell that you’re in a mood, that you’re trying to push his buttons by annoying him. 

“you know i despise you right?” he whispers. 

you grin, leaning in. 

“is that right?” you whisper back. 

“oh yeah. you irritate me.” 

there isn’t even a shred of earnestness in the words he’s uttering. you know he doesn’t mean them. 

“keep going.” you respond, as he presses a warm kiss to the side of your cheek. 

“you’re a nuisance.” – a kiss to your forehead. 

“an irritation.” – a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“like a fucking thorn in my side.” – and a kiss to the sweet spot right in your neck and his hand snaking up your thigh, which makes you nearly keel your head back from the sensation. 

you place your hands on his cheek and pull him back, face flushed and his eyes nearly glazed over. 

“are you crazy?” you whisper. 

“what?” he asks. 

“we’re in public, dumbass. you can’t just start trying to rile me up.” 

sukuna leans back, obliging. 

“so you admit it? i was riling you up?” 

“oh, shut up.” 

you reach for the sandwiches and unpeel one for sukuna. before he takes it, he places a tiny white box in your lap. 

you frown. first the fancy date but the jewelry too? 

“sukuna. you didn’t–” 

“just open it. i’m impatient and i’ve been waiting all day. and i actually think you’ll like it. otherwise, you’re ungrateful and rude and you hate me.” sukuna responds. 

you give him a tight lipped smile before you open the little box and actually smile. 

it’s a dainty silver chain – the exact same as sukuna’s from the chain-links, but the build is a little thinner. and right at the center, a little charm of a star. 

you reach forward for his chain, dangling around his collarbone. and surely enough, in addition to the original charm he had of an interlocked circle, there’s a star charm added right next to it. 

“you always reach for it. when you’re talking or when we’re kissing. figured i’d get you your own since you’re such a big fan.” 

“you are so…” 

“perfect? sexy? the father of your children?” 

“i was thinking adorable. can i answer d for all of the above?” you respond. 

sukuna grins. 

“survey says yes, princess.” he responds. 

you yank the chain from the little box and hand it to him, before turning around for him to secure it on you. his fingers tickle against the nape of your neck, accompanied by a warm kiss, before he taps your shoulders to signify that he’s done. 

“you know. you really are perceiving me right now.” you respond. 

“and how’s that?” 

“i know you’re obsessed with me and pay attention to every word i say.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“obviously.” 

you jab at his side. 

“i mean, i know you’re doing this because i mentioned picnics yesterday and always feeling left out. sure you could put two and two together that he never really bought me any nice gifts or anything when i said he ruined my birthday.” 

“okay, captain obvious. and?” 

you shove him once more, before leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“well, i appreciate it. i know the whole…cutesy painting date isn’t your thing. we won’t have to do it again. and that you…you’re trying to make this whole thing special for me.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“i’m offended. first and foremost, i always like to eat with you. every time i think that there’s no way you can amaze me more, you find another way to spill food on your clothes.” 

“hey! that’s not true.” 

“you already spilled on the blanket. second, this is a very violent way to eat cake. you literally mess up all the layers by doing that and destroy the piping on the cake which i can admit, i am a fan of. and third, i’m going to paint us as worms, which seems enjoyable to me.” 

you curl your nose. 

“worms?” 

“yeah. what were you going to paint?” 

“i don’t know. but it certainly wasn’t going to be worms. like the park or flowers or something.” 

“boring. i’m going to paint us as slimy worms. and because we made it on this date, you’ll have to agree to put it up in the apartment, even if it’s ugly.” 

“sukuna.” you whine. 

“especially if it’s ugly. it’s a testament to our love.” he responds, dramatically placing his hands on  his chest. 

“you know, you’re so right. worms have been a really defining feature of your relationship.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your lips and an additional one on your cheek. 

“you just get me, princess!” 

and he breaks the little joke by lifting one of your hands to his lips, and pressing a kiss on all four of your knuckles before pressing your hand to his cheek. 

“and i have to do special things for a special person.” 

you return the gesture, lifting his tattooed fingers to your lips and doing the same. 

“you know…you’re really good at this type of thing.” you murmur. 

“what do you mean?” 

“i mean, being a boyfriend. and…and being supportive about everything. sometimes i feel like i’m trying really hard to be the best but…just comes naturally to you.” you respond. 

sukuna shrugs. 

“don’t know if i’m perfect but…loving you has always come really easy to me. i don’t really have to think twice about it because these are actually just things i want to do for you.” 

you groan. 

“see! that’s what i’m saying! you always just…say sweet things, do sweet things. sometimes i’m convinced i’m not even half deserving of it, just because sometimes i don’t reciprocate that back.” you respond. 

sukuna leans forward. 

“you know, you actually do though.” 

“as if.” you groan. 

sukuna pauses, before leaning his cheek against the tops of his knees and looking out at the expanse of grass in front of you. you follow his line of vision – to the dog running in the distance, the wide, billowing trees, and the little flower truck on the side – which you now realize is where sukuna copped the flowers from earlier. 

“i mean, this type of thing. that we have, or…or the way i act around you. it means a lot to you because, you…you’ve never had this before. right?” 

“yeah.” 

“well, i haven’t had you before. i know you see me as perfect, but…but when you say that i can tell that you don’t mean it the way my mom or…or yuuji think that i’m perfect. in the untouchable way.” 

you lean forward, cupping the side of his face. 

“sukuna. you’re so touchable.” you joke. 

“you’re disgusting.” 

“you love it.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“yeah, i really do. it does actually mean the world to me that you think i’m perfect how i am and don’t think i’m larger than life.” 

“if anything, your ego could be smaller.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“and…and even the other day. i know you were acting squirrely and weird when yuuji was near us and heard us bickering, but i was half convinced that you were going to take his side at the end, when he started saying that stuff about me. because it is true and i have acted a certain way in the past…and, you would have every right to agree with him if you wanted to.” 

you frown. 

“no, i wouldn’t. you’ve never treated me like that and i know you’re being earnest when you say these things to me. this would be a very elaborate way to get into my pants if that was what you were trying to do. and i know it’s not.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“that’s what i’m saying. every other person for me has never given me that benefit of the doubt, but you always do. you were the person who thought to tell me that my grandpa died when you all came to get me and you were the one who wasn’t mad at me. the things you do for me are the same, in equal magnitude, as what i do for you. if this makes you feel good, or…or on top of the world, you have to know that’s how you make me feel too. i’m half convinced that you’re basically made for me at this point the way you get everything right on point.” 

you lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his lips. 

“i really think you’re made for me too, ryomen.” 

sukuna groans, dramatically leaning his head back, before nearly pushing you over and peppering kisses to almost every surface on your face. 

“quit fucking saying my name. you have no idea what that does to me.” 

“i mean, i think i have an idea.” 

sukuna clamps his fingers over your mouth, before pressing a few more lingering kisses to your face and pushing off. and subsequently, picks all of the grass out of your hair as you roll your eyes. 

and after that sukuna, admittedly, very aggressively uses the wine glasses to portion off little slices of the cake and makes it a point to finish off yours when you can’t stomach the sweetness. and true to his promise – sukuna paints the two of you as worms, but at the park, stargazing. 

it’s a little silly, the way he paints it. you were expecting it to be more gory or gross, but it’s so corny that it makes you smile. because he draws the two little worms, but distinguishes between the two of you, by swiping some of your pink paint and adding a little ribbon to the one that’s supposed to be you. 

sukuna explains the stars. because before sukuna had dragged you out of that shitty bathroom bar, it’s what megumi and yuuji said in his drunken mess – he had pointed at two little stars and likened them to him and megumi.

and you’re almost positive that at the time, sukuna found it utterly ridiculous. but now, he understood it – the sentiment. that you and sukuna were two little worms, and two stars, and two little flowers too. 

and to his promise, the two of you decide to place the little canvases you drew at the end of the kitchen counter. 

it’s only then that you realize that you have to go the whole ten miles for sukuna the way he had done for you – countless times again. and that if you were going in blind in trying to make something special, you’d have to take a page out of his book and do some research. 

and there was only one person who could really help you, who you’d rather die than humble yourself to than ask for help. 

regardless of that, you still call sammy the next morning.

--

next part linked here

an: they're about to do it. anyways....there is a very real playlist to match the one that they talk about in the fic -- and it matches the way it described in the fic! so it's interleaved, the first song is a song that sukuna would have added, the second one that y/n added, the third sukuna, so on and so forth. it's linked here! happy listening babies

second an: thank you for the love on the last chapter. it makes my heart really warm bc all of that was actually based on a REAL MAN and real things that I have felt/have said to me and just having people comment that they felt seen by it or it made them feel a certain type of way actually made me really happy and so warm. this blog was one of the first things I did after I stopped being really, really sad and i'm glad that i'm able to share a little joy here and there, if that's what this fic is for you. anyways this is long and sappy and gross and actually I just love you all for enduring the ouchies and the sillies with me a little bit 💌

third an: double upload bc yall were so patient with me :D

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani79 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

[heartfullofleeches]

ITS MY BIRTHDAY TODAY🎉🎉🎉🎉 I was wondering how my favorites would wish me a happy birthday, Tobi, the cafe, host, static, the supernatural harem and the fast food, if that’s too many you can shorten it but I really wanted to have some of my favorite characters from my favorite writer congratulate me on my special day! BTW I’m the one who sent the Prince leash ask, I don’t know if you got it but I accidentally did it anonymously

(The Cafe was a bit too much for me to get this out to you the same day, but I hope you like this regardless! On the bright side, I did get your Prince ask and am working on that too. Happy birthday, chief!)

Tobi:

Has never had a birthday himself, but they know what they are and their significance to humans other regular people. Tobi's the kind of guy to surprise you with presents year round, but as your birthday rolls around they keep items you've had your eye on in their back pocket to gift you on your big day.

Its too embarrassing for them to give you in person, but Tobi creates a collage of all their favorite pictures of you to put up somewhere in your bedroom. Tobi loves baking and cooking so a homemade breakfast, dinner, and your treat of choice would be on the top of their list of surprises for you.

Host:

"Looks like it's a special someone's birthday- Those only come around once a year, you know? If - that's how you want it, anyway."

That time already? Time is a tricky thing for Host to wrap his head around. He could've sworn the last one was just yesterday. It hardly matters. Everyday could be your birthday- Contenstants come and go, but you'll always be his star.

That would, of course, wear the novelty of it all thin. Host is more than happy saving the pinnacle of his gratitude for you as his co-host for that one day. That day's contestants better be too if they want to leave with all the parts they came with intact.

Which is his funny way of saying they won't get any cake.

Static:

"Happy birthday to you.... Happy birthday to you...."

Hunts for every variety of birthday song they can find to serenade you with the second daylight bleeds into your room. Static's disappears predating your birthday can swiftly be explained by the trinkets they bring you, majority centered around the shows and movies you've watched together it knows you adore most.

They'd attempt to rope you into another movie night with you in full control of the remote since it's their favorite way to bond with you - and it's optimal cuddle time.

Supernatural Harem:

"Baron, must you make everything a challenge?"

"Piss off! I left enough room for you two to put your names on the cake.... Maddox more importantly than you, but still."

"We appreciate the consideration, but... Where are we supposed to write "happy birthday"?"

Nothing like waking up on your big day to your Demon husband roommate swearing today will be the day he slaughters your Angel husband roommate. Luckily, your Grim Reaper spouse roommate has the expertise to ķeep you soothed until things cool over long enough for all of them to prepare breakfast for you.

Baron stalks you around to shower you with mandatory birthday kisses- only to get pouty when he's done before noon and continues well past the age you're turning. You'll be older than all three of them by the time he's through.

Maddox, as usual, fills their journal with sketches of you to unveil at the end of the day. Their art skills is the only thing they're proud of in themselves and monetary possessions don't hit quite the mark they're trying to reach when it comes to presents they like to give. If you're a gamer/a fan of stuffed animals they'll pick up a couple so they can use them when you're away and they miss you.

The first birthday you celebrate with Alasdair has to be one to remember. He's watched you from the sidelines for years and now it's finally his chance to do what he's always wanted. It may be a tad selfish of him in hindsight, but he'll pull you aside the day before or after to enjoy a relaxing evening with just the two of you.

Fast Food:

"Code C! I repeat, Coqde C - The clown is loose!"

Birthday? Well you can't expect to have a celebration without the designated party planner, can you? As everyone closes up the restaurant early to commemorate your big day, Twister hoovers over the crew to insure everything goes swimming. The Janitor follows behind it with their trusty spray bottle to keep the clown in check - its the only excuse they have not to give their present to you by hand because they're too embarrassed.

The bathroom Succubus would insist on you opening her gifts to you first - if a certain goat wouldn't pout over it all day as a result. The ballpit hands shower you with all the shiny items lost in their depths. The Storyteller reads you the tale of someone who's birthday happens to fall on the same day - where nothing bad occurs and the universe smiles kindly in their favor.

The ice cream machine ghost whispers in the ears of customers they'd better wish you a happy birthday or be prepared to have dairy filled nightmares

[atinystraynstay]

Soft Spot - Min Yoongi

Synopsis: Yoongi closed himself to most of the world. He didn't want to risk anyone hurting him or the people that mean the most to him. That was until you came along, somehow having the golden key to his heart.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x reader

Genre: Fluff, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers

Word Count: 1.7k

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

Yoongi had spent over 30 minutes at the florist. His eyes bounced between all the different flowers, unsure what would be the best one to present to you. You would think that since Yoongi produces music, he felt a constant pressure for the next song to do better than the last.

However, his biggest worry was trying to impress you.

To him, not enough words could describe you. He has attempted to write at least one song to showcase his adoration for you. Yet, nothing seemed to fit. He could easily describe you as perfection. You were the one person who balanced him out amongst the chaos. The songs he produced with you in mind just didn't do you justice.

"Hyung, you ever going to make a selection?" Taehyung teased for him.

A sharp puff of air left Yoongi. He thought asking Taehyung to help him was the best idea, but he was starting to regret it.

"Would you shut up?" Yoongi murmured.

Taehyung went into a fit of chuckles before putting his hands up in defense. Seriously, he was here to provide insight?

Of course, Yoongi had an idea of the right ways to treat someone. He has experienced short flames of love in the past. But nothing like what you two had. It admittedly scared Yoongi at the intensity of emotions he felt within himself. He didn't mean to push people away, but he just often put all those emotions toward his career before another person. BTS counted on him to produce songs, to be a strong older brother. He didn't put another put through the wringer just because of his intense career.

But then he met you.

It started off innocent at first. You two just happened to bump into each other at the convenience store. He had been locked up at the studio, trying to lay tracks down for a new song when he needed a break. He figured going for a walk and grabbing an energy drink would help relax him.

Similarly, you had been crammed in your university's library working on a research paper. You were in the last semester of your graduate program, a step closer to becoming a Social Worker. Your fingers were starting to ache and you felt a bit restless after sitting at a work table. You decided you needed fresh air and an iced coffee before going to attempt to edit the paper.

You two had bumped into each other. Fatigue was written all over your faces that you hadn't noticed each other. That was until you bumped in as you tried to go to the register.

Seeing how tired you were, but also how beautiful you looked, Yoongi offered to pay for your beverage. When you tried to politely decline, he insisted after being in your way. Even though you were the one not watching where you were going.

As a way to show appreciation, you offered to give him your number. That way, you could repay him with a drink of his choosing whenever he wanted.

Since then, you two have been attached. Text messages were exchanged which then became FaceTime calls, particularly late at night due to both of your schedules. FaceTime calls quickly grew tiresome because all Yoongi wanted was to be in the same room as you, so you two began to hang out.

While Yoongi has not officially asked you to be his exclusively, he knew he wanted to be with you. You two practically saw each other twice a week. In his mind, you two were together.

That was until Taehyung pointed out that he hasn't actually asked you to be his, that you could be under the impression you two were just friends. Yoongi was doubtful, but his younger brother had a point. What if you saw him as only a friend? What if you were actually seeing someone else?

The thoughts made Yoongi both anxious but motivated to do something about it. Cue Taehyung coming in to help. Taehyung knew how to be romantic. He offered insight without Yoongi overthinking it.

"I'm telling you. She won't really care about the exact flowers. Just that you got them for her." "But they have to be perfect for her."

It brought Taehyung amusement to see how smitten his hyung was. Actually, all the boys were invested in Yoongi's love life. For the 10 years that they've known him, this was the first time that he was choosing something for himself rather than for other people. They all adored how dedicated Yoongi was to them and the group, but they always wanted Yoongi to be happy in all aspects of life. Including romantic.

They ever knew someone could be so happy over receiving a text message. At least, that was the case until they saw him grinning in his studio as he spun gently back and forth. He would re-read your texts to him, his smile getting wider and wider.

Or the way he thinks of you had random points. Having ramen for dinner? You like ramen. He would wonder if you had eaten, if you were happy, if you had a good day. See a squirrel while on a stroll? You were so energetic, so busy. What were you up to? Should he call you?

You were always on his mind. You meant everything to him and so much more.

It was why when he stood in front of your apartment door, his heart was racing. Yoongi was convinced that his heart was going to leap right out of his chest at this rate. He was practically shaking.

He sucked in a deep breath, looking down at the bouquet of flowers. Roses felt too intense for the occasion. He had selected an arrangement of blue hydrangea, blue delphinium, and white button poms. They reminded Yoongi of a clear, warm day and you were the sun. They were tied together by a pink bow, subtle but perfect.

Here goes nothing.

With his left hand firmly holding onto the stems of the bouquet, his right hand reached forward to ring the doorbell of your unit. It was a late Sunday morning. Sundays were your day to relax, to do self-care. He hoped he wasn't introducing, but he knew you'd be home.

From the other side of the black-painted door, he could hear shuffling. His heart fluttered knowing you were indeed inside. And about to open the door.

Did he get the right bouquet? Did you even like flowers? Should have have gotten a bigger bouquet for you?

He didn't have enough time to go through every scenario as soon the door opened. There you were. His angel.

Your hair was pulled back in a high ponytail with little strands framing your face. You wore a pair of black shorts but a large, oversized sweatshirt. All he wanted to do then was wrap you up in his arms and cuddle you. God, he was down bad.

You had a warm on your face, but quickly your eyes widened to see the flowers in his hand. You couldn't but hope they were for you, but you were convinced you and Yoongi were just friends. He was too kind to you to be anything more than that.

"Hi y/n," he said softly.

His voice sent your heart into palpitations. Nobody else sent you into such a spiral unlike he did so easily. It was just him greeting you but your knees were like jelly.

"Hi Yoongs," you spoke just as softly.

Yoongs. You were the only person who called him that. And he prayed you would be the only.

"What's going on? I figured you might be asleep still since you were at the studio until late." "Nothing can stop me from seeing you. I had a very important erran to run."

He was trying his best not to become a stuttering mess. But the way you were looking at him? The way you had a soft gaze yet lured him in, he was bound to crumble.

"These are for you, beautiful. Saw them and I thought of you."

Your cheeks turned bright pink. You were at a loss for words, and Yoongi noticed. He couldn't help but feel his ego rise. Maybe all the guys were right after all? Maybe you did like him?

He only got this confidence when he had a little bit of whiskey in his system. This was different, though. He didn't have liquid courage to fuel his delusions. He was stone-cold sober to see how you reacted to him. While non-verbal, your body language says everything.

"Oh Yoongi, they are so beautiful. You didn't have to do this." You took the flowers into your own hands to admire them up close. It warmed Yoongi's heart to see the way you took in their beauty, even though they weren't as beautiful as you are. He hoped you were seeing yourself just as positively, but he was ready to remind you constantly if need be.

"And I know what you're about to say." He began. "If you feel guilty for me spoiling you, why don't you accompany me for brunch? Going on an official date would make me happier than you buying me something."

Your head had never snapped up as quickly. Did you hear him correctly? Was he asking you out on a date? There was no room for interpretation when he said the words himself, but you weren't sure if you heard him correctly.

"Wait, you are actually asking me out?" "Well yeah, y/n. Isn't it obvious I like you?"

You opened your mouth to counter his statement, still in disbelief. However, you quickly closed it. Come on, y/n. Don't hesitate. You're so close to getting what you've always wanted.

"Can you give me 20 minutes to get ready and place these in water?" You asked. "Take all the time you need, angel. I'll be downstairs in my car, making sure it's all warm for you."

Feeling bold, Yoongi leaned into to press a lingering kiss to your cheek. "I've got nowhere else I'd want to be than spending time with you." Shivers ran down your spine from his tone and the way his words practically vibrated throughout your body.

He pulled back and winked before going towards the elevator. You gently closed the door before rushing to get ready.

Dreams can come true.

[wildemaven]

confessions | tim rockford

pairing: tim rockford x f!reader word count: 1349 warnings: 18+ blog; beer consumption, Tim is older than reader but no age given (not more than 10+ years), fluff, pining, secret crushes, kissing, fluff, one mention of calling Tim ‘old’ in a playful manner, (none of these pictures dictate the appearance of reader, this is all purely for vibes and up for your own interpretation) notes: this is my first Tim fic and I’m so excited to be apart of the Summer Lovin’ challenge out on by @pedgito @chaotic-mystery @amanitacowboy Big shout out to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for giving it a once over for me!! I appreciate you!!

“Thanks again for coming.” You lean over and say before hiding behind the sip from your plastic cup of ice cold beer. 

“Of course. It’s a bummer your date couldn’t make it.” Tim says now leaning slightly over in your direction so you can hear him. 

The music isn’t loud. More of a steady hum as a slower ballad is played on stage. Low enough that you can carry on an easy conversation without shouting over blasting speakers. 

“Yeah. Definitely a bummer he couldn’t make it. I don’t think I’d be having as much fun as I am if I was alone— so thank you.” You almost feel bad about lying. Your date that canceled on you last minute for this very concert you’re attending right now with your partner instead. 

Expect Tim doesn’t know that there never was a date prior to him accepting your last minute invitation to be your plus one. His detective skills certainly are not keen on the slight crush you've had for the man for some time now. 

“You don’t have to keep thanking me. I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to be here. It’s kind of a bonus that they’re one of my favorite bands. Missed out on getting tickets. So I should be thanking you.” Tim bumps your arm playfully with his elbow before directing his attention back to the stage where the lead singer is ripping on his shiny black electric guitar. 

“Oh! I didn’t realize that when I asked you. I’m so glad it worked out like this.” Another lie. 

You knew it was one of Tim’s favorite bands. Overheard him one morning in the break room talking about this upcoming tour and how it’s been a dream of his to see them live. The only problem was this exact venue had sold out before he had gotten a chance to even attempt to get tickets. 

It pays to know people. Especially the kind of people who owe you favors. You had immediately called in the favor and you were able to secure two tickets that were relatively close to the stage without any issues. 

Tim Rockford has been your partner at the police department for the last three years. The crush you’ve been quietly harboring for him has been alive for nearly the same amount of time. 

You tried to not feel guilty while flat out lying to him about the whole thing. Especially right now with how much he is enjoying himself. His head bobbing in time with the beat. The words so effortlessly fall  from his mouth as he sings along to each song. 

As the song plays on, you don’t see the way Tim is admiring you thoroughly enjoying the music. Your arms high in the air, falling into a rhythmic wave that mirrors the other concert goers. What surprises him most, and finds almost angelic, is the way you sing word for word without missing a beat, making him even more grateful you asked him to come now, so he could witness such a sight. 

“I’m surprised you know all the words.” He says with a grin that makes your stomach swoop instantly. 

“Of course I do. It’s a good song.” You’d only discovered it when you began your rigorous studying of the band’s entire discography after securing the tickets. But Tim doesn’t need to know that— yet. “They’re a great band for being around for so long.” 

He shoots you a pained look.

“A great band for being around for so long? Sweetheart, I was listening to them in high school. You calling me old?” He turns fully to you in the small row where your seats have been abandoned for the better part of the show. His signature Detective Rockford stance, hip cocked out and hand secure at his waist band, is way less intimidating when he’s dressed in his off duty casual clothes and unarmed. 

“Well, not as old as my dad…” Technically, Tim isn’t not much older than you, but the years between you were enough for there to be a difference in tastes of music. You shrug your shoulders at him, not sure if he’s picking up the flirty tone you’ve adopted in the last few minutes. “But if the shoe fits, I guess.” 

“I’m hurt— wounded.” Tim grabs at the front of his shirt, the fabric bunching under his grip. 

“What was that?” You cup your hand over your ear and lean back into him. “I can’t hear you over your knees popping every time you stand up.” 

His smile drops and it has you feeling like you might have crossed a line that has blown any chance of ever being something more serious with Tim. 

“Tim— I was totally kidding. I’m so sor—“ Tim cuts you off before you can properly apologize to him. 

Tim’s lips are softer than you had imagined them being, slotted perfectly over yours. The music playing is no longer the main event for you, fading into the background as Tim conveys to you his own undisclosed feelings for you through the kiss. It’s a moment that feels straight out of one of your favorite rom-com movies. 

“I hope I haven’t been reading this whole thing wrong and I didn’t just make an ass out of myself by shutting up that pretty mouth of yours.” Tim’s musky cologne mixes with the beer he’d been savoring as his words fan across your face at such a close proximity. 

“No. You definitely didn’t— to both things.” A cool breeze sweeps through, alleviating the warmth that’s settled on your skin. “I have a confession to make.” 

“What’s that?” His thumb grazes over the apple of your cheek. It’s gentle effort helps ease all of your shot nerves. 

“There was no date. I got the tickets and planned to ask you. I didn’t want to sound desperate or weird, so I made it seem like I was going with someone else and that they canceled at the last minute.” 

“Oh— well I guess I should confess something to you then.” There’s a small hint of relief that you detect in his voice at your confession, you wouldn’t be one of the best detectives in your department to let that tell slide by unseen. “I was jealous of your non-existent date.” 

“Really?!” 

A light fluttering sensation swirls through you. Sincerity etched in the flecks of the warm brown eyes staring back at you. 

“Yeah. Heard you talking about it with everyone at work. I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a small part of me that had wished it was me going with you.” 

“You’re only saying that because it’s your favorite band playing right now.” 

You amusingly roll your eyes and push at his solid unmoving arm, but he catches your wrist before you can pull away. 

“Nah, I would have been jealous even if it was that Bieber kid.” Tim maneuvers his hand around yours, interlocking your fingers together. 

“Good to know, Rockford. I'll remember that for next time.” 

The chords of a new song fill the air. A vivacious energy spreads through the crowd like a wildfire. It’s not enough to break the small bubble Tim and you are currently existing in. 

“Next time? So what does that mean for us then, Sweetheart?” His brows knit together. He’s hopeful at the prospect of a next time, but doesn’t want to be too expectant and scare you away before he even has a chance to have you. 

“I don’t know. Let’s listen to the rest of this concert. Then afterwards you can take me to that old diner you love over on Pine Street. Order some food and we can talk until they threaten to kick us out.”

“If I’m not mistaken, that kind of sounds like the perfect first date.” He delivers another weak-in-the-knee inducing smile and you can’t help but mirror it with a little wink. 

“Way to use those detective skills.” 

It’s your turn to kiss him. It doesn’t linger as long as you’d like, but the night is still young. 

[bumblebeeswrite]

If you’re taking requests, can I ask for some early morning fluff with Jason? Love your writing btw!!

MORNING BIRDS | JASON HOCHBERG

summary: in the early hours of camp pineway, you and Jason share a moment.

word count: 2,565

CW fluff to the maxxxx, i'm in love with this man your honor. don't know if Jason has a sister, but he gives me big brother vibes so i went with it

thank you soo much for your kind words. i appreciate it soo much.

this one came to me so fast, the motivation is real after that call y'all

The crickets chirped their relentless song, a soundtrack to the quiet seclusion of Makeout Point. Technically, it wasn't called that at Camp Pineway, but the name, whispered among campers and acknowledged with knowing smirks by counselors, had stuck. It was a small clearing, slightly elevated and ringed by whispering pines, offering a perfect, moonlit view of the lake below. You sat on a worn wooden bench, Jason beside you, close enough to feel the faint warmth radiating from his arm. A half-empty bottle of lukewarm soda sat between you, the remnants of a shared, sugar-fueled buzz.

The night had started with the usual campfire stories down by the main fire pit, a mix of genuine spooky tales and the kind of exaggerated, slightly terrifying narratives that were a camp staple. Jason had told one about a camper who wandered into the woods and was never seen again, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine, even though you knew it was just a story. His delivery was perfect – quiet intensity, pauses timed just right. After the campfire, s'mores consumed and songs sung, everyone had scattered – some to their cabins, some seeking quieter corners of the camp for a bit of freedom before lights out. You and Jason, drawn by a shared desire for peace away from the lingering campfire smoke and boisterous energy, had found your way up the winding path to this secluded spot, the silence growing more comfortable with each step.

"It's… peaceful up here," you said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you. The moon was a like silver coin in the inky sky, its reflection shimmering on the distant water's surface. The lake looked serene and vast from this vantage point.

Jason leaned back against the bench's rough-hewn backrest, stretching his legs out. "Yeah. Peaceful's a good word for it. Back home, it's always… noisy. City sounds, people, even when you're inside." He glanced at you, a small smile playing on his lips. "This is a nice change. Sometimes I think I could just stay out here forever."

You hummed in agreement. "I know what you mean. My town's not huge, but it's never this quiet. You can always hear cars, or neighbors…" You hadn't known Jason particularly well before this summer. He was one of the older counselors, a bit quieter than the rest, but with a dry wit that you found yourself increasingly drawn to. There was a steadiness to him, a calm that was a welcome contrast to the chaos of camp life.

Time seemed to slip away as you talked. You discussed everything and nothing – your families, your plans for the future, funny camp stories, and shared memories of childhood summers. Jason told you about his younger sister, Lily, and how she was the "biggest drama queen you'd ever meet," his voice fond despite the teasing words. He described a particularly dramatic incident involving a school play and a misplaced prop, making you laugh until your sides hurt. You told him about your dream of traveling the world, starting with maybe backpacking through Europe. He listened with genuine interest, asking specific questions about where you'd go first and sharing a story about a disastrous family road trip that somehow ended up being one of his favorite memories. He even admitted, his voice softer, that he sometimes felt unsure about his own future plans, a vulnerability that surprised you and made you feel closer to him. The distant sounds of the camp faded entirely, replaced by the gentle rustling of leaves and the rhythmic chirping of the crickets, creating a bubble just for the two of you.

The soda was long gone, the bottle rolling slightly on the bench between you. The night air grew cooler, raising goosebumps on your arms, when you realized how late it had gotten. The moon was higher now, casting long, distorted shadows across the clearing, making the familiar pines look like watchful figures.

"We should probably head back," you said, the words reluctant, accompanied by a yawn you couldn't suppress. "Lights out was… hours ago."

Jason glanced towards the path leading back down, then back at you, his gaze lingering for a moment, searching your face in the dim light. "Yeah, probably," he agreed, but his tone lacked conviction. He shifted slightly on the bench. "Unless… you want to stay a little longer? We could try and spot some constellations. I think I can still find Orion from here." There was a hint of something hopeful in his voice, a hesitant curiosity that made your heart skip a beat.

You hesitated, chewing on your lower lip. You knew you should go back. Curfew was… well, curfew was a suggestion at best for counselors, but there were still expectations, rounds to potentially check. Getting caught out here could mean trouble. But the thought of leaving this quiet intimacy, this bubble of shared thoughts and easy silence overlooking the sleeping camp and the moonlit lake, felt like breaking a spell. The connection felt too real to cut short.

"Okay," you breathed out. "Just a little longer. Show me Orion."

Jason's smile widened, reaching his eyes this time. "Deal."

The "little longer" stretched into a full-blown all-nighter, spent entirely in the secluded haven of Makeout Point. Jason pointed out constellations, his finger tracing patterns against the velvet sky. You talked more, the conversation meandering into deeper territory – fears, hopes, silly 'what ifs'. At one point, the sharp snap of a twig nearby made both of you jump, freezing like startled deer. You held your breath, listening intently, imagining John or Kathy doing a late-night patrol. After a tense minute of silence, punctuated only by your own heartbeats, a small raccoon ambled out from the bushes, blinked at you both, and scurried away. You both let out shaky laughs, the shared moment of minor panic dissolving the remaining distance between you. You watched the stars shift across the vast canvas above, the sky slowly lightening from a deep, velvety blue through shades of indigo and violet to a pale, washed-out grey. The conversation ebbed and flowed, punctuated by comfortable silences that felt just as meaningful as the words, and the occasional shared laugh that seemed loud in the pre-dawn stillness. Jason had a habit of tilting his head when he was really listening, his brow furrowed slightly in concentration, and you found yourself increasingly fascinated by the small details of his face – the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the faint scar on his chin, illuminated now by the approaching dawn.

As the first hint of sunrise painted the eastern horizon, a sliver of pale pink bleeding into the darkness over the distant hills, a different kind of quiet settled over the clearing. It was the hush of anticipation, the stillness before the world woke up, heavy with unspoken feelings. You shivered, the morning chill finally penetrating your tired limbs and the thin fabric of your shirt.

Jason noticed immediately, shrugging off his worn fleece vest without a word and draping it over your shoulders. It was warm from his body heat and smelled faintly of woodsmoke, pine needles, and something indefinably… him. You pulled it tighter around yourself, inhaling the scent, a blush creeping up your neck despite the chill.

"Thanks," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze by looking out over the lake, now catching the first rosy reflections of the dawn. The water looked like liquid glass, perfectly still.

He just nodded, his eyes following your gaze to the horizon. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "We should probably get some food," he said, after a moment, his voice slightly rough from hours of talking and the cool air. "Before anyone else is up and asks questions we don't want to answer."

The walk down the path felt different in the dim morning light, the familiar trail transformed into something new, charged with the energy of the night you'd shared. You walked side-by-side, not touching, but acutely aware of each other. The mess hall was eerily silent when you and Jason slipped inside through a side door he knew was often left unlocked. The long rows of tables were empty, chairs neatly stacked, the only sound the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. Mrs. Peterson, the camp cook, wasn't due in for another hour, which meant…

"We're on our own," Jason said, turning to you with a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Think Mrs. P keeps any secret stashes?" He headed straight for the kitchen doors, pushing them open with a soft whoosh, and you followed, a sense of giddy, sleep-deprived adventure bubbling up inside you despite your exhaustion.

The kitchen was a wonderland of early morning possibilities – stainless steel counters gleaming faintly, oversized pots hanging from racks. Jason, surprisingly, seemed to know his way around. He navigated past the industrial ovens and mixers, opening cupboards with confidence. He pulled out a carton of milk, a box of cereal (something sugary and forbidden, the kind that was definitely not on the camp breakfast menu – Lucky Charms, maybe?), and located a couple of mismatched mugs in a drying rack.

"Breakfast of champions," he declared, pouring the cereal into the mugs with a flourish that sent a few colorful marshmallows scattering onto the counter. "Or, you know, survivors of an all-nighter."

You laughed, leaning against the cool stainless-steel counter as you watched him pour the milk. "Definitely survivors." There was something incredibly domestic, and incredibly intimate, about this – the two of you, alone in the quiet heart of the sleeping camp, sharing a secret breakfast after a night spent talking under the stars. It felt stolen and special.

The cereal was devoured quickly, standing at the counter, the sugary milk leaving a sticky residue on your fingers. The silence wasn't awkward, just filled with the small sounds of eating and the lingering closeness from the night. You washed the mugs in the big, industrial sink, the sound of running water echoing slightly in the empty hall.

"So," Jason said, leaning against the counter beside you, his shoulder brushing yours lightly, sending a little jolt through you. "What now?" He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, but his gaze was warm.

You stifled a yawn, the adrenaline fading into bone-deep tiredness. Your eyes felt gritty. "Now… I think I need sleep. A lot of sleep. Before the campers wake up and demand energy I don't have."

"Me too," he admitted, rubbing his eyes. "My cabin's not too far from here…" He trailed off, looking down at his hands for a second before meeting your eyes again. The implication hung in the air, clear and inviting, yet hesitant.

Your heart did a little flutter-kick, a nervous energy mixing with the exhaustion. You knew you shouldn't. You really shouldn't. Sharing a secret breakfast was one thing, sneaking into the kitchen felt like a minor infraction. Going back to his cabin felt like crossing a different line entirely. What would people think if they saw you leaving? What did he think? But the thought of ending the night – the morning – just yet… it was too much to bear. The connection forged in the quiet hours at Makeout Point, strengthened by the shared adventure, felt too strong, too promising, to simply walk away from now. You wanted more time, even if it was just sleeping in the same room.

"Okay," you said, the word barely a whisper, but loud enough in the stillness. His answering smile was small, but genuine relief washed over his features.

Jason's cabin was small and cluttered, but it had a certain lived-in charm that felt authentic to him. A pile of books sat precariously on a small table next to a battered armchair, titles ranging from sci-fi novels to poetry collections. A half-finished charcoal sketch of the lake lay on another surface, showing surprising talent. And a worn-out sleeping bag was spread neatly on the floor, looking surprisingly inviting.

"It's not much," he said, gesturing around the room with a slightly self-conscious air, running a hand through his already messy hair. "And usually cleaner, I swear. But it's… home for the summer."

You didn't say anything, just stepped inside, taking it all in. The air was warm and slightly stuffy, but it smelled like… Jason. Like woodsmoke and old paper from his books, charcoal from his sketch, and something sweet, like the sugary cereal you'd just shared. "I like your drawing," you offered quietly, pointing to the sketch.

He glanced at it, a faint flush rising on his neck. "Oh, uh, thanks. Just messing around." He watched you, his expression unreadable in the dim light filtering through the small window. Then, he gestured decisively to the bunk "You can… have that. Seriously. I'll take the… chair." It was a simple wooden chair, looking far less comfortable than the bunk.

You hesitated, looking from the bunk to the chair, then back at him. "Are you sure? That chair looks like torture after being up all night. We could… share?" The suggestion hung in the air, bolder than you intended.

He looked surprised for a second, then shook his head, a small, genuine smile playing on his lips. "I'm sure. Wouldn't be much of a gentleman otherwise, right? Besides," he added, his voice dropping a little, becoming softer, more intimate, "I want to make sure you're comfortable. Get some proper rest."

You didn't argue further, sensing his quiet insistence. You were too tired, too overwhelmed by the emotions stirred during the long night, and too… drawn to him and the unexpected sweetness of his gesture. You settled onto the bunk the worn fabric surprisingly soft against your skin. It felt strangely right, being here, cocooned in his space.

Jason sat in the chair, leaning back and closing his eyes almost immediately. The early morning light cast his face in soft shadows. He looked… peaceful. Content. And you realized, with a jolt, that you felt the same way, a quiet sense of belonging settling over you, chasing away the last dregs of worry about breaking rules.

Sleep came quickly, pulling you down into a deep, dreamless slumber born of exhaustion and a surprising sense of security. You woke up hours later to the sound of someone shifting. Jason was still in the chair, blinking himself awake, stretching stiffly. He looked… younger, somehow, in the brighter daylight filtering in, all the quiet intensity of his waking hours softened into a peaceful vulnerability. He caught you watching him and offered a sleepy, slightly crooked smile.

You smiled back, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the stuffy cabin air. You knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your bones, that this wasn't just a camp fling, not just the result of a sleepless night fueled by sugar and proximity. This felt like something… more. Something real, sparked in the quiet darkness of Makeout Point, tested by a near-miss with a raccoon, and cemented by shared cereal and quiet understanding in the dawn.

And as you eventually drifted back to sleep for a little longer, the image of Jason's sleepy smile imprinted on your mind, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation. The all-nighter overlooking the lake had definitely been just the beginning.

[ironinc]

Drunk Confession.ᝰ.ᐟ (Pt.1)

Tony Stark x F!Black Reader. 

˗ˏˋ Your older boss invites you to his dinner party with his VIP clients, as his soon-to-be assistant you have to go. With a little liquor in his system, he gets bold enough to confess a feeling he can’t hold back anymore. 

⤷ Oneshot, slight smut, a 10+ year age gap, starts off with a steady plot. It does get a little steamy though. 

⤷ A/N: This is my first story, I haven’t wrote anything in literally three years. I honestly should’ve started writing a long time ago. But it’s never too late to try. Please let me know if you have any request and I will try my best to get them done! Enjoy this ;) It's a bit long so I split it in two parts!

⤷ A special song to add spice: Hands To Myself by Selena Gomez.

⤷ Word count: 2,138

 - Reader’s POV 

Another day, another silly run to this stupid printer. Working for Tony Stark is some people’s dream or possible nightmare. I’ve been working here for almost a year. At first, I was just an intern for one of the workers here, until Mr.Stark saw how well I was performing and wanted me to work as his personal assistant. 

Today, I donned my black pantsuit with a white trim that fit me to perfection. I paired it with my chic Christian Louboutin heels and minimal accessories. My makeup was light but striking, and my new sew-in hairstyle added a touch of elegance to my overall look. As always, I paid close attention to my outfit and accessories, ensuring that they would complement both my figure and skin tone. Fashion has always been an essential part of my life, and I have a deep appreciation for its ability to elevate my style and confidence.

After retrieving VIP customer copies from the printer, I headed back to the elevator. As it rose to the top floor, I couldn't help but admire how huge and impressive everything was. It was unlike any company I'd worked for before. My thoughts wandered to the new heels Mr. Stark had insisted on buying for me. It still baffles me how thoughtful and generous he was, and I was grateful for his kind gesture.

I felt a mix of emotions when he bought me those heels. On one hand, I was overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness and generosity of his gift. But on the other hand, I couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable accepting something so expensive. I had never experienced a man going out of his way to buy me something that was 'on my level'. It was both flattering and slightly intimidating.

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out. Walking down the long hallway to Mr. Stark's office, I braced myself for the conversation that was about to unfold. As I stepped into the room, I caught Happy and Mr. Stark deep in a conversation about recent sales successes.

"Here you are, Mr. Stark," I said with an upbeat tone, a small smile playing on my lips as I handed him the requested papers. As he skimmed through the papers, I couldn't help but notice the scent of his cologne filling the air around us, sending a subtle shiver up my spine.

“Thank you for getting those for me Ms.{Last Name}.” 

"Of course, Mr. Stark," I replied, my voice firm but carrying a hint of warmth. "I'm glad I could help."

He studied me with a perplexed expression, a hint of curiosity in his gaze as he noticed my new hairstyle.

"You look different today," he remarked, a small grin forming on his lips. "This hairstyle suits you."

I felt a flutter in my stomach at his words. First, he had surprised me with those gorgeous heels, and now he was flattering me. It was like a delightful rollercoaster ride of emotions and compliments.

"Thanks for noticing, Mr. Stark. I'm glad you approve.” I say with a hint of happiness in my tone. 

"I noticed you wearing the gift I gave you. You look lovely in them. How do they feel?" He stood up from his chair, his towering form making me take a step back as he moved to stand in front of his desk. His gaze remained fixed on me, expectant of a response.

Happy gave me a brief but cheery hello and left, closing the door behind him.

“Thank you for getting these shoes for me. They fit perfectly. However, I must admit that I'm still a bit confused about why you went through the trouble.”  He raised his eyebrows at my statement and crossed his arms, listening intently to what I was saying. 

"I completely understand the feeling of confusion, but allow me to reassure you that the gift is perfect for you and you deserve it after all the outstanding work you've done for the company. You've truly gone above and beyond." 

With every word he was saying his tone was so sensual yet professional. It made me eager to hear more. I smile widely not letting my gaze leave his.

"I have an important dinner tonight with my top VIPs,” Mr. Stark informed me, “And I wanted to let you know because you'll soon be my personal assistant.” 

I couldn't help but wonder what the evening held in store for me. Fancy dining and an older crowd were not exactly my cup of tea, but I was determined to handle it professionally and rise to the occasion. After all, it was part of my journey toward becoming Mr. Stark's assistant.

He had a point, I thought, my nerves mingling with a flutter of anticipation. As we chatted about the midweek event, I asked cautiously, “What time should I be there tonight?”

With a kind smile, he alleviated my concerns. “There's no need to worry about transportation. A personal driver will pick you up at 8 pm sharp. And don't worry,” he added reassuringly. “while it may seem like another tedious business function, I promise our conversations will be worth your time. Let's make the most of it together.” 

                                   Time skip ₊⊹

Time was slipping away, and I hurriedly wrapped up the last details of my evening look. I slipped into a flattering burgundy dress, pairing it with the stunning black-red bottom heels Mr. Stark had gifted me. Every accessory was carefully chosen to complement my attire. And with a final touch of glamour, I styled my hair to perfection. I couldn't help but feel a sense of confidence as I took in my reflection in the mirror, ready to step into the evening with grace and elegance.

As the car horn sounded outside my apartment, I grabbed my perfume and quickly applied it with a spritz where needed. I snatched my clutch off the nearby table and headed out the door.

The driver greeted me respectfully, opening the car door for me. “ Good evening, Ms. [Last Name],"  he said politely. “The drive to the event will be short.” I thanked him graciously and slipped elegantly into the luxurious Mercedes, ready for the evening ahead.

                               Short time skip ₊⊹ 

  - No one’s POV 

He was correct about the brevity of the ride as you arrived at our destination. 

When you stepped out of the car, you were greeted by the familiar face of Happy, who greeted you with a compliment, saying, 'You look stunning as usual, Ms. [Last Name]. I'll escort you to wherever Mr. Stark is, You know how he can wander off.” 

As Happy led you toward Mr. Stark, you noticed that he had a slight buzz about him, and his wandering gaze fell directly on your figure, lingering over the bold dress that accentuated your curves.

As he looked you up and down, taking in the sight of the elegant burgundy dress hugging your curves, he couldn't help but feel a stir of admiration. The way the fabric fits your body perfectly, accentuating all your best features, left him unable to look away. A small smile crept across his face, his thoughts momentarily distracted by the sight of your stunning outfit. He knew he had made the right decision with the red bottoms, as you truly looked breathtaking.

With a warm, almost flirty, smile, he kept his gaze towards you and said, "You look absolutely captivating in that dress, Ms.{Last Name}. It suits you perfectly."  The sight of you in that dress had a mesmerizing effect on him, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

You thanked him with a soft, appreciative smile, your cheeks tinged a faint shade of pink. "Thank you, Mr. Stark," you replied, your voice filled with gratitude.

"Your compliments mean a lot to me." As he looked at you, he couldn't help but notice the subtle blush that spread across your cheeks, giving her a more charming, endearing quality. 

It was moments like these when he felt a flutter in his heart, his admiration for you growing with each interaction. The chemistry between you two was palpable, the air around them thick with unspoken tension and attraction.

That was soon cut short due to someone wanting to make a toast towards his company. Everyone sat down at their assigned table. Your seat is next to Mr.Stark and a lady named ’Natasha Romanoff’. 

Tony had recently made a life-changing reveal to the world that he was Iron Man. The stress of his work seemed to bear down on him heavily. The dinner was organized to help alleviate some of that stress. As the speaker highlighted his accomplishments, you watched as Tony finished off his scotch, his gaze distant and preoccupied.

As the speaker concluded their speech, inviting Tony to take the stage, With every step he took towards the microphone, waves of cheers filled the room. Tony took the mic, his charismatic charm oozing with every word he uttered. With a slight slur to his words, he began thanking everyone for attending, weaving in-jokes that brought laughter from the crowd. 

But as the atmosphere grew lighter, Tony made an unexpected declaration, slurring his words slightly. "You all need to hear this. This gorgeous lady that I was sitting next to, my soon-to-be assistant, is like something straight out of a dream. I find myself falling harder for her every moment..."

The whole crowd is shocked, even Natasha lets out a little chuckle at his drunken confession. 

Your surprise was genuine as Tony's heartfelt confession unfolded before you. Though he had been dropping hints for months, you never imagined it would transpire like this.

Feeling the weight of the moment, you swiftly made your way to the stage. The realization set in as the audience connected you to Tony's passionate words. With a tender touch, you smoothly retrieved the microphone from his grasp. He reciprocated by draping an arm around your midsection, pulling you closer to him as you both faced the mesmerized crowd together.

"I'm grateful for your thoughtful words, Mr. Stark," you replied, your voice carrying a mix of gratitude and playfulness. "You're a captivating presence for the audience, so let me steal you away tonight." Everyone cheered for your words. 

As you both left the stage, you intertwined your fingers with his, guiding him through the bustling room. The weight of his hand in yours was a new comfort to you. Grounding you amidst the whirlwind of the event. You led him to a secluded space, filled with a desk and chairs, where you could have a private conversation.

—

As Tony looked into your eyes, captivated by your gaze, he responded with a slight slur, his words laced with sincerity yet tinged by the effects of alcohol. "You know, my beautiful future wife, I meant every word I said. Every. Single. Word."

His voice held a mixture of vulnerability and a hint of flirtation as he broke the barrier between formal and intimate. The atmosphere was charged, the sound of the party beyond the room fading into the background. Tony's eyes never left yours, as if caught in the enchantment of your presence.

As Tony's voice caressed your ears, dripping with a sensuous undertone, you could feel a wave of anticipation building within you. The air thickened with a sensual atmosphere, charged with a tension that seemed to stretch out the time.

With a sudden and urgent move, Tony's hands found their way to your hips, drawing you closer to him. His confident touch sent sparks through your body. The height difference between you two meant you had to look up to meet his gaze. And before your mind could form any words, his lips were on yours, the kiss filled with a fiery passion that left no room for doubt or hesitation.

As Tony's arms ensnared you in an eager embrace, your fingertips trailed the length of his neck, tracing a delicate line across his smooth skin.

Tony's hands were strong yet gentle as they glided down your back, tracing a sensuous path along the length of your spine. The warmth they emitted sent tingles through you, making you shiver with desire. His touch sparked a fire within you.

The taste of his lips fueled your desire, driving your hunger for him higher. His touch sparked a fire within you, his fingertips now gliding under the fabric of your dress and caressing the bare, sensitive skin.

As your fingers continued their exploration, sliding over the fabric of his shirt, you couldn't help but admire the way his pulse quickened with each press of your touch. The sound of his breathing, slightly unsteady, added another layer to the electric air between you.

"Tony," you whispered in between kisses, "I need you, now. Here."

I'm actually so geeked out about how part two is gonna play out. SO HAPPY!!

— part two now awaits you ᥫ᭡.

[skzstannie]

“We’d never want you to struggle alone”

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader

genre: angst wc: ~2100 cw: mentions of depression and death of family members, hatred for the holidays

Hi guys! Here’s my attempt at some Christmas/holiday angst. The fluffy Part 2 is posted and linked at the bottom of this post!

Feedback and likes/reblogs are greatly appreciated! I haven't got the chance to interact with too many people on here yet, so reach out if you'd like!

Happy scrolling!

"Hey guys, I'm pretty tired. I think I'm gonna head to bed. Chan Oppa, I'm gonna go lay down in your room until everyone's ready to go back to our dorm," you wave off their comments asking you to stay with them and make your way to the leader's bedroom.

It's December 20th, and the guys are all gathered around the television in the 3Racha/Hyunjin dorm, binge watching Christmas movies. During a normal year, you'd all be at your own homes with your families, cozying up to the fireplaces and drinking hot chocolate with your siblings. However, this was no normal year, and your comeback ran too close to the holidays, not allowing you nor the boys to go home for Christmas. Not that you particularly minded; you hated the holidays.

You imagine what you'd be doing at home right now, no doubt curled up in your bed with an exciting romance novel, listening to some dark academia playlist you'd found on YouTube.

But you're not home, you're stuck here with a bunch of Christmas-crazed dorks who have spent the last few weeks decorating your dorms full of all things Santa Claus. You've been managing to sneak away whenever any holiday-esque activities are taking place. You've not told them of your hatred towards the holidays, and you're not really planning to, either, not wanting to be the reason their fun-filled nights are ruined; they're already sad enough about not being able to head home for the holidays, the last thing you want to do is be a scrooge. So, you’ve resorted to humbly excusing yourself, busying yourself with your own activities when the occasion arises.

As you walk into Chan's room, you take notice of all the little trees he has decorating his room. Cute. You pick up the picture of his family he has resting on his nightstand beside his bed. You stare at his mom, dad, siblings, and grandparents smiling faces, feeling the familiarly unavoidable pit in your stomach form.

Your parents and one set of your grandparents passed away in a car wreck about five years ago, before you debuted with the guys. Your other grandparents, your mother's parents, passed away before you were born, never getting the opportunity to meet them. So, that left just you and your brother. Your brother, being a few years older than you, started his own family the summer after your parents passed. He has a beautiful wife and two children now, one boy and one girl. They got right to baby-making after they got married, so excited to start a family of their own. Unfortunately, that family never included you. You only know of their children because you’re mutuals with your sister-in-law on social media.

Your brother essentially ghosted you after his first child was born. You two were never the closest sibling duo, but you never expected him to completely drop you and ignore your existence. But he did, and that's just something you have learned to live with.

You were not in a healthy place after all this happened. You had no one to go to when your heart was breaking, grieving the loss of both your dead and alive family members. You put all your focus into the trainee program, all your sadness and anger towards the world into your dance and song. Chan eventually found you on that one fateful day that you deemed saved your life. You were at the lowest of your low, and you thought you had finally reached your breaking point, but then walked in Christopher Bang Chan, all smiles and laughter. He recruited you to be in his group as one of the first, right after Han. From then on, you had another reason to keep going, to keep fighting.

You've never told the guys this. You have always been a more reserved member, keeping all of your personal life out of the spotlight. While the boys never heard you talk much about your family, really only knowing you have a brother, they always thought that, when you went home for the holidays, you went home to a nice big house filled with love. They thought when you walked in the doors to your childhood home, you were welcomed in by your parents with opened arms, beckoning you in. They thought you spent your Christmas mornings opening nicely wrapped presents, followed by a home-cooked breakfast that'd be shared amongst your family.

They didn't know of the single bedroom apartment you called yours. They didn't know of the bareness that captured your living room, baren of all things Christmas and the lack of Christmas cookies and presents on Christmas Day. They didn't know you've always spent your holidays alone.

Honestly, you were completely fine with their assumptions. You didn't need nor want their pity. Your family was still an incredibly sensitive topic to you. Before their passing, you were so very close. You'd spent every holiday together, enjoying your time as a family, doing all the cliche things. You'd even gone caroling a few times, walking around your childhood neighborhood singing the classic Christmas songs off-key to your friendly neighbors.

Afraid you'd spiral, leading you right back to how you'd been before Chan found you, you never brought it up, and the boys never pushed you to talk about your family. They figured you were normal with a mom, dad, and a loving brother-so what's to talk about?

The holidays have never felt the same; you knew they wouldn't. So why try? Why go through the effort of making yourself a nice Christmas dinner, attending church on Christmas eve and waking up early Christmas morning, when you knew your parents wouldn't be there to greet you. When you knew your grandmother wouldn't be there to give you the biggest hug she could muster in her old age. When your grandfather wouldn't be there to give you a hearty pat on the back, his only true form of physical affection you'd ever experienced in all your years with him.

A quiet knock pulls you out of your thoughts, and in walks Felix with a glass of milk in hand. You quickly set down the picture frame you didn't realize you were still holding and give him a warm smile.

"Hey, what's up?" you ask him, taking the glass from him and sipping on the cold beverage.

"I just wanted to make sure you were feeling alright. You've been pretty distant for a couple weeks now. Is everything ok?"

You're a little caught off guard, this being the first time anyone's noticed your pulling back since the beginning of December. You honesty didn't even realize anyone was paying attention to you, all of them too caught up in the festive activities and excitement of the season.

"Yea, I mean, I'm fine. Just a bit of seasonal depression," you write off his concerns.

"I didn't know you had that," Felix ponders his thoughts for a minute, giving you a loving look. "Is there anything I can do to help? Have you always had seasonal depression?"

While looking into Felix's warm, brown eyes, you decide that keeping all these things from them all these years has been unfair. They're never afraid of sharing their personal struggles with you. You think back to all the times Han's came to you with anxiety, and how you've wanted nothing more than to take away all his worry and pain. How Seungmin's came to you with his insecurities, and you always hyping him up, calling him the most beautiful boy. If any of them had kept their struggling to themselves, it'd crush you. How dare they feel like they couldn't come to you? Why would they want to struggle alone?

You realize that these feelings are most definitely reciprocated by the guys. Now, feeling vulnerable after being left alone with your thoughts for so long, you have the dire urge to come clean about your family.

"Actually Felix, I've been struggling with this for quite some time now. Can you, maybe just, listen? I've never talked to anyone about this, but I want to now. I want you guys to know," you fiddle with your hands, sliding one of your rings on and off your finger.

"Of course! You can always talk to me. Go ahead, I'm listening." He grabs your hand, halting your fidgeting. You look up at him, take a deep breath, and let it all out. Everything you've been holding onto these last few years. It probably sounds like word vomit, all your feelings and hardships falling out of your mouth at lightning speed. You finish your rambling, and you finally have the courage to look up at his face again.

He's crying. Equipped with all the theatrics, the wobbly lip and rosy cheeks. You made Felix cry with all your problems. You reach up to his cheek, wiping a few of his falling tears.

"Ok, I think I'm done," you freeze as Felix also brings his index finger up to your cheek. You flinch when he pulls away, seeing the dampness of it.

You're crying, too. You didn't even realize. I mean, it makes sense. You just trauma dumped all of your troubles onto Felix, the world's most renowned empath, of course you'd be crying.

You guys sit in silence for a minute, before Felix's whimpers become audible. He's so visibly distraught, and your heart breaks even more just at the mere sight of him.

He launches himself at you, clinging to you so tightly you think your ribs may crack. He tackles you back onto the bed, resting on top of you.

"Why did you never tell us this?" his sobs wreck through his body, his arms trembling around you, "We could've helped you."

"I was scared," you wriggle one of your arms free of his embrace, using it to affectionately run your hand through his hair. Your sobs join together as one, both of you a mess. "I was scared you guys would pity me, or look at me less. I was scared that I'd spiral again if I talked about it."

"Well, we're here now, Jagiya." He sits up after a few minutes. His cries have quieted, and so have yours. "We aren't going to let you continue going through this alone, ya know. We are one, and if one of us is hurting, we're all hurting. Please don't keep things like this from us anymore." He begs, standing from the bed. He grabs your hand and pulls you up, making his way towards the door.

"Where are we going?" your voice shakes and you pull away from Felix, standing in the middle of Chan's room. You wrap your arms around your middle, feeling more exposed than you ever have before.

"You know we have to tell the rest of them. They deserve to know, too."

"Felix, I don't think I can tell the story again. Once was enough for a lifetime."

"OK, do you feel comfortable with me telling them? I'll tell them exactly what you told me, no more, no less, ok?"

You frantically nod your head, grateful for Felix's suggestion.

He blows you a playful kiss, no doubt trying to make you feel better, and he leaves to go to the living room. You take your seat back down on the side of the bed and wait patiently for Felix to finish.

You don't hear much for the next few minutes, but you're startled by the swinging open of the door, the handle cracking against Chan's poor wall. Han stands there, a dazed look on his face. His glassy eyes meet yours, and you shriek when he takes off, leaping onto the bed onto your small frame. He wraps you up in a big hug, squeezing the life out of you.

"We love you, and we'd never want you to struggle alone. We're in this life together."

One by one, the rest of the guys make their way into the room onto the bed. We're haphazardly thrown into a cuddle pile of sorts. A cuddle pile filled with the love and adoration you've been missing during the holidays.

You all lay in each other's arms, and you feel incredibly comfortable and safe. Chan's the first to break the silence, "We have five days left until Christmas. What do you say we make some new Christmas traditions? We don't want to replace what you used to have, and you’re entitled to spend your Christmas season as you'd like. But, if you'll let us, we’ll give you something to look forward to about the holidays again. Please?" The guys are all looking at you now, each of them displaying a face that could rival a sad puppy.

You realize now that there's nothing to be scared of. These are your best friends you're talking about, who want nothing but to shower you in love and happiness.

"I'd love that."

Part 2

[batsythoughts]

Could I request a plantontic yandere batfam x singer female reader

Context - they got concert tickets, and as they heard the reader ring, it reminded bruce on his mother singing voice

This is adorable and made my heart hurt thinking about Bruce's dead mom. But we cope with delusion in this household! And I tried to keep descriptions to a minimal about outfits so if would be as inclusive as possible for all the readers and styles out there! Also made this a little angsty before the kidnapping because I needed at hurt/comfort really bad, even if it's kinda toxic. But I hope you all enjoy!

Here is Yandere Batfam x Female Singer Reader!

Dick had won a couple of tickets from a radio station... correction, Dick, Stephanie, Duke, and Barbara called different stations multiple times until they won enough tickets for the whole family to go to the concert together

Bruce was initially going to refuse going with the fact that he knew nothing about what the artist was like, but the kids were able to convince him after an hour of debating

The day of the concert, they arrived to find the venue filled with only half of what the maximum capacity was

Dick just shrugged it off when Bruce asked about it, saying it was because you were still somewhat new to the whole music scene

They stood around in their spots somewhat close to the stage while waiting for the show to start

Bruce still felt unsure about the whole situation as he watched the kids excitedly take group pictures

He always smiled when they had him in the picture, but still held internal doubts about enjoying the style of music that this singer used

It also didn't help his concerns with the fact that he could clearly see the empty spaces in the venue

Damian also looked around with a small scowl at the empty spaces before looking up at his father with skepticism in his expression as well

When the singer finally walked out onto the stage, Bruce's older children let out loud cheers while he and Damian respectfully clapped

The introduction was short with an acknowledgement of the people and happy wave before the show started

The kids happily sang along with the songs as they danced in the spots they had with eagerness

Bruce nodded along with them, though he didn't quite seem to understand the deeper meaning of the lyrics that he knew was in a few of the songs

The most important thing was that all the kids were enjoy themselves and having fun together at this concert

It was the final song when Bruce felt a tug on his heartstrings at the slow melody and melancholy words that sounded through the speakers

He went back to his childhood when his mother would sing a lullaby to him when Bruce was upset or couldn't go to sleep

The girls noticed the miniature grin that appeared on Bruce's face as the song got close to the end

They all applauded with more loud cheers to the performer gave a small bow with a wide grin

"Thank you, wonder citizens of Gotham! I really appreciated singing for you all tonight." You cheerfully spoke into the microphone. Slowly walking around the stage while looking at everyone in the audience. "And I'm glad to spend the next few days performing here. So if you see me around the city, feel free to come up and say hi!"

Stephanie and Barbara hollered in encouragement at the news while Duke and Jason whistled and clapped. Everything was going well in the whole venue until a some guy a few rows behind them yelled at the top of his lungs. "Kill yourself, talentless bitch!"

Most of the people around the area started loudly scolding the guy, the boys included as the girls made sure to hold them back

Bruce kept his eyes on you as he watched your smile falter as you looked down

He could feel the sadness radiating off you as you took a moment to breathe before raising the mic and speaking in a soft voice, "Alright then, have a goodnight Gotham."

They all turned back around to watch you quickly walk off the stage without the excited energy you had at the start

Bruce made sure to stay behind a few minutes longer than necessary

He didn't want them getting into a yelling match in the parking lot if they caught a glimpse of the guy

They each got an souvenirs to keep as a momento of the night before leading everyone out to the car to return to the manor

He had just unlocked the doors when a car pulled into the parking lot and stopped a little ways away from them

Before any of them got in the car, the door opened and you stepped out and headed towards the door

The kids shared individual looks before briskly walking over to catch up to you, Bruce even joining them after a moment

"Hey! Wait up!" Jason hollered as they all finally caught up to you. Though they did stop a few feet away to give you space.

You turned around while wiping your cheeks with your jacket sleeve. Forcing a weak smile to your face as you looked at each of them. "Hey. How are you all doing? Having a good night, I hope."

Duke nodded his head as his arms crossed over his chest. A glint of concern in his eyes as he looked you over. "We're doing good. We were just about to leave for the night."

Barbara nodded along as she took a step closer. Her voice holding a cheerful note when she spoke, "Yeah! The show was fantastic and you have such amazing songs."

"Thank you. I'm glad you all enjoyed yourselves tonight." You tell them all with a absent-minded nod. Rubbing your arms before looking at the ground. "I'm sorry the end sucked though."

"That wasn't your fault, so don't apologize." Dick cut in with a soft, but firm, tone. Shaking his own head as he crossed his arms. "That guy had no right to say that to you."

"Are you alright?" Damian asked, a touch of tenderness in his eyes as he looked upon your form.

You give a hesitant nod to the young boys question. "I'll be okay. Just have to get through the next couple days and then I'm taking a break. Spend some time out of the public eye, figure out some new songs, and just figure a few things out."

Bruce took notice of the pain in your eyes, even though you weren't looking right at him. He knew it well from seeing it so many times in his own children. He took a moment to find the right words before finally speaking up.

"You do have a great talent. It is shameful that not everyone can acknowledge that without being understanding of your emotions. We are all sorry that you experienced that hatred tonight."

The moment you looked at Bruce, with what he could only describe as pleading eyes, he felt his heart tug. Placing a hand on your shoulder, Bruce gave you a gentle smile while reencouraging your confidence. "You did great tonight. We, along with almost every else that saw the show tonight, thought your music was amazing."

The look in your eyes with the glow of the street lights softening as you give a final nod. Finally giving them all a small, genuine smile. "Thank you. I appreciate the kind words." Looking over the group, you bite your lips before hesitantly asking, "Is there anything I can do to show my thanks?"

Most of them started to deny the idea, even dismissively waving their hands. "Actually," the voice of Stephanie cut in as she reached into her pocket, "do you think we could get a picture?"

One picture turned into a couple with each of them before Bruce eventually got everyone in the car

They hadn't even gotten home before Tim and Steph had seen you post on multiple platforms about taking a break after the end of your current tour

What seemed worse to them was the fact that all the comments were mixed with encouragement for the decision along with more disheartening messages for you to simply quit

Bruce clearly told everyone that they wouldn't involve themselves in the online drama

They each hesitantly agreed before letting their attention drift to other topics

The next couple days went by like usual for the family, but the kids did occasionally checked each time you posted to make sure everything was alright

How could they not still feel that little nagging worry in the back of their minds? You were a good person, even if they didn't know you all that well

Occasionally, Bruce would hum one of your songs to himself and one of the other members would hear

They never said anything about it until one night at dinner, Alfred asked him what was intriguing about the singer they saw perform

When Bruce finally admitted that your voice reminded him of his late mother

All the kids shared a look as they realized that Bruce was feeling an emotional connection towards you

With it being the last night of your tour, Dick, Barbara, and Duke all decided to go to the venue in hopes of getting Bruce an autograph while the others kept him distracted

They had pulled into the parking lot as all the cars had begun to leave with the exception of a few, including the one they remembered watching you drive

They waited for a few minutes before watching you and a couple others come walking out

They watched you all share a few words before the others got in a car and drove off, leaving you alone

Each of them waited for a moment before leaving the car and cautiously walking over to you

Each hesitated being the first one to call out to you as you simply stood there with your head down

"Hey. Are you alright?" Barbara finally called out in a soft voice. The boys standing close by with equal concern as they watched you.

You lifted your head up in surprise at the sudden appearance of the people in front of you. Rubbing your hand over your face before nodding your head. "Yeah, just... my manager and I had creative differences on what I should do with my next few months. So he decided he would give me a card for someone else for when I wanted to get back in the game."

Dick scoffed at the action of your 'manager'. Crossing his arms as he glares in the direction the car went in. "Some people, huh? Can't even see you as anything more than a way to get rich." A grunt of disapproval leaves his throat before looking at you with softer eyes. "Are you alright?"

"I will be. Just figuring out what to do for the night," you admit to them with a sigh. "I can't go back to the hotel and have them continue the disagreements. Do you all know of a nice motel nearby?"

"Absolutely not." Duke immediately shot down the idea with a frown. Dick and Barbara nod along in agreement at the thought of you in this town by yourself. "However... the manor has plenty of room. I'm sure it would be fine if you stayed for one night."

You looked at them with a small bit of shock at the offer before waving your hand in a dismissive manner. "I couldn't do that. I don't even know you all that well. I can't impose you all like that."

"Don't worry about that. We wouldn't offer if we didn't want to," Dick reassures you with a smile. Getting his keys out of his pocket again before walking towards their car. "We can stop by your hotel and Duke and I will go to your room to grab your things."

Which grab your things they do, with Barbara waiting in the car with you as she texts the others to inform them of the situation. The boys don't take longer than 15 before coming back and putting your things in the trunk.

When they get back to the manor, Damian is waiting for them in the entry way. His arms crossed as he glared at his older siblings. "Father knows you were gone. You need to tell him what you did." He then turned his attention towards you with a small nod. "I can show you to an available room."

You followed after the young boy with Duke carrying some of your things. Barbara gave Dick a pat on his shoulder. "Good luck with that. I'm going to grab some comfort food and drinks for our guest."

Dick stood there for a moment until he gave a sigh and made his way to Bruce's study. Finding the man sitting in his chair as if he was waiting for one of the kids. Closing the door, Dick waited a minute before finally speaking, "So, we were trying to do a thing."

Bruce listened patiently as Dick explained the whole situation. Rubbing his temple before standing to go and look for you in the room Damian had helped Alfred prepare less than an hour ago. When he got there, he saw all the girls lounging around with you resting on the bed.

He made eye contact with you before sending you a comforting smile. "You are welcome to stay as long as you need. There is bad storms coming through in the next few days, so don't worry about rushing to find a flight if you don't feel comfortable traveling in the weather."

You gave him a small smile before looking back down at your lap. Bruce looked at the girls who all smiled to show they would look after you. Stephanie was picking out different nail polish colors and holding them up for everyone else to see when she spoke, "Girls night. We'll get you if we need anything."

Bruce quietly closed the door behind him after telling them goodnight

He made sure to tell the boys to be on their best behavior while you were staying

None of them seemed to mind as Dick had informed them of what happened and how you were feeling from the ordeal

They all made sure to treat you well over the couple of days while you stayed

Each of them did their own thing to show that they wanted you to feel comfortable and welcome

Cass and Steph baked cookies with you, Jason read his books as you and Damian listened with the cat on dog relaxing with you, Dick would show you fun memes to make you smile, Tim and Duke invited you to movie nights, and Barbara made sure to do a nightly skin care routine to help calm you down every night before bed

It was about a week since you came to stay, and all the kids were worried because you had begun packing your things

Bruce had seen how anxious they were with idea of you leaving, and he himself also felt the worry deep in his chest

He went to your room with the intention of talking to you, finding you sitting on the bed while looking through your phone

He sat down on the bed next to you, seeing you looking through flight times with a message from who they all learned to be your ex-manager

He didn't read it all before you swiped it off the screen with a sniffle, but he saw enough to get the idea of how hurtful the whole message was

He made a small suggestion about you staying with them for a while until things got better

You made a comment about not wanting to impose on them and over staying your welcome

Bruce pulled you into a hug while saying, "We want you to have a system of people you can trust. And if that means you stay with us, then we want to do that for you."

Nothing else was said as you both sat there as you closed the tab for the flight tickets, weakly thanking Bruce as tears pricked the corner of your eyes

You both just sat for a couple before Bruce got up to give you space and inform the others of the new development

All the kids felt excitement for the fact you were staying, but didn't show it so you didn't think they were glad for your misfortune

Everyone continued to show you unconditional support, especially when you started to begin writing songs once again

Though they could tell you were struggling with figuring out the instruments of each song

Tim was able to convince Bruce to buy you a few programs on the computer they had put in your room

The grin that they saw after you began to look through the programs made the family feel the joy with you

Each time you got a new song composed, you played it for the family and get their thoughts of what could potentially be improved

Each time, they gave honest thoughts of the songs while keeping it as supportive of your feelings

You did single releases after every song got written to still remain in the music scene, but the family could tell something was off

Bruce eased into the topic one night at dinner between all the other conversations

At first you hesitated to open up, but with a little encouragement, you finally admitted to being worried about your career with the fact you were doing any live performances

Everyone listened to your worries about what to do for the foreseeable future

Jason was the one to finally ask the most important question for your choice

"Do you think you would be okay if you ever did another tour?"

You thought for a moment as you thought about all the possibilities of what could happen if you did a tour again

Finally, you shook your head as a mumble came from your mouth. "I don't think I could survive another tour like the one I had. But I don't want to burden you all."

Bruce shot down the notion of you being a burden, claiming they would never leave you alone to deal with everything by yourself

Everyone else chimed in with agreement as they talked about they would worry if you every left and got in the same state of mind again

Bruce stated that not matter what, you would always be welcome to remain with the family because you were now apart of it

A flicker of a grin appeared at the corner of your lip before you gave a nod in understanding

Each of them felt a sense of accomplishment for making you feel relaxed enough to remain with them, even if there was a tiny voice in their heads saying it was selfish to keep you in the manor

What did it matter anyway if you were happy with people who cared about you? The important thing was that you were safe with them.

[ambiguous-avery]

Pick Your Poison

teen!Dean Winchester x fem!teen!Reader/You | WC: 1358

Summary: A hunt with his dad brings Dean to a college party.

Tags/Warnings: No use of Y/N, fluff, underaged drinking (Dean and reader are 18-19), some angst, no beta we die like men

Now Playing: Pick Your Poison by Knox

A/N: Okay when I first heard this song, I literally only thought of a younger Dean. I feel like it is so him and I HAD to write something for it. And then to add to my inspiration, @wendichester had two drabbles of teen!Dean (part 1 and part 2), and really, there was no coming back from that. Song lyrics will be in bold. Also, I swear this was meant to just be a light hearted thing, but I’m finding that with Dean, there’s almost always some angst involved. Our poor boy 😭

Read Part 2!

The college scene had never been his. The books and lectures and homework had never really appealed to him. That had always been more of Sam’s neck of the woods. But this? The partying and drinking and sorority girls? Yeah, he could get behind this part of college. Even with strangers all around him, alcohol sloshing around in red Solo cups, Dean was in his element.

But he needed to remember that he was working.

Several girls eyed him appreciatively, and Dean didn’t even try to hide the way he looked them up and down in return. He moved through the throng of people, idling listening in on conversations going on around him. If the college rumors were anything to go on, there had to be some sort of spirit haunting the area, and something had kicked it up in the last few days. There were vague mentions of strange happenings, but no direct witnesses that he or Dad could find. He needed to find someone who interacted with everyone. They would be the most likely to have the much-needed lead he was looking for. He made his way to the kitchen of the house, finding a pretty gal with a makeshift bar set up.

He stopped short, catching sight of you stationed behind the island in the kitchen, several different bottles spread out around you. He squared his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair before approaching. The jigger between your fingers seemed at home as you flipped it into the cup placed underneath, and the way you splashed orange juice into the cup afterwards was just flashy enough that it gave him the impression that it wasn’t your first time doing this. You passed the cup to a girl next to you before you finally took notice of him as she walked away. You smiled, and he watched as your eyes trailed over him. When your gaze met his again, Dean flashed you a boyish grin, the kind that had gotten him lucky. Mischief twinkled in your eyes, and for once, Dean felt like the teen he was.

“What’re you drinking?” you asked, fanning your hands out as if to show him your entire setup. He grinned.

“You sure you’re old enough to drink?” he asked cheekily. You couldn’t have been much older than him, and he still needed a fake ID to get into a bar.

“You sure you’re old enough to be a cop?” you quipped back, raising an eyebrow at him. He laughed and held up both hands in a placating gesture.

“Fair enough,” he said with a chuckle. Dean settled into his practiced confidence, hands finding their way into his leather jacket pockets. “What can you make?”

You gestured to the oversized plastic container of vodka that sat in front of you.

“I can make a mean screwdriver. Or if vodka isn’t your thing, could get you a gin and tonic. If this were a real bar, I could knock your socks off with a whiskey sour.”

“Seems like you know a thing or two about mixing drinks.”

“What can I say? A girl likes to drink. So what’ll it be, cutie? Pick your poison.” You leaned on the counter, and Dean didn’t miss the way the motion pushed your tits up. The V-neck shirt you were wearing was putting in work, and he was all the more thankful for it. Dean made a conscious effort to maintain eye contact.

“Can I pick you?” came his smooth response. You smiled and laughed, though not in a mocking way.

“Oof… no points for originality there, buddy. But you’re pretty, so I’ll still drink with you.” You grabbed the bottle of vodka and two shot glasses, filling them both and sliding one across the island counter to him. The two of you held up the shot glasses in a silent toast before tapping them on the counter and drinking.

He knocked back the shot, and the alcohol burned the entire way down. Dean was no stranger to cheap alcohol, but this was the absolute cheapest stuff broke college kids could get their hands on, no doubt. He understood it. Who cared about the gasoline taste if it meant they got shitfaced for pennies? You coughed, pressing the back of your hand to your mouth.

“Whew… that’s fucking terrible.” You shook your head, quickly pouring some orange juice into your shot glass and downing the chaser. You filled it a second time and slid it to him. He lifted it but hesitated. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to pretend it didn’t taste like fuel. I won’t tell anyone.” You winked at him, and he felt his ears warm in response. Was he blushing? He hoped to god not. Your giggle as he chased the alcohol told him he was. That would do some serious damage to his “badass hunter” look.

Dean couldn’t stifle the spark of interest that had kindled in him. There was something about your easy confidence that drew him in. Not to mention the fact that you knew a thing or two about drinks. His knowledge of alcohol was a little more defined than vague, but anything beyond beer was a little out of his wheelhouse. Dad never drank anything other than hard liquor or beer, and Dean didn’t even want to try and think about the disappointment he would wear if Dean ever tried to order something like a cocktail. Cocktails were for chicks. Beer was for men. And he was definitely a man. A man with a job to do. Shit, how had he forgotten?

“Hey, I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything about ghost sightings, have you?” he asked, leaning in a bit closer. You barely had a chance to open your mouth to respond when the music playing suddenly changed to something more upbeat, more pop, and your face lit up like you had just learned that Christmas was coming early.

“Ooh, I love this song! Boy, you better dance, ‘cause this is our song now.” And you grabbed his hand, dragging him out of the kitchen and into the living room where the music was louder. He tried to muster up a declination. A “sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t dance.” Or maybe a softer “I’m not really a dancer.” But all of his excuses died on his lips when you turned to face him fully, took hold of both of his hands, and pulled him into the crowd of moving bodies.

And just like that, you had all of his attention wrapped around your finger. His awkward bumbling could hardly be considered dancing, but you didn’t seem to mind. You – and your tits – bounced in time with the music, and Dean, despite it all, was enjoying himself. The alcohol curled through his system, muddling his thoughts. For the first time, Dean found himself craving more of this. Not the drinking or the partying. But the normalcy. The life of a teenager whose only concern was how they were going to hide the hangover from their parents the next day. The song changed to a slower one, and the energy in the room shifted with it. A melancholic guitar played over the speakers, and it resonated with the ache Dean had been trying so hard to tamp down.

You drew closer to him, placing your hands on his shoulders as you swayed with him to the song. Your cheeks were flushed pink, and your smile hadn’t left your face the entire time. You leaned in close, and Dean, after taking a brief second to figure out what he was supposed to do, settled his hands on your hips, moving in time with you.

“What’s your name, handsome?” you asked. He barely heard your question of the sound of his own beating heart.

“Dean,” he said quietly, leaning down so you could hear him.

“Pleased to meet you, Dean.” Your name rolled off your tongue, and he repeated it back to himself, tucking it somewhere close to his heart along with the memory of the moment. The case wasn’t going anywhere. And right now, he hoped you wouldn’t either.

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