#i had all the letters i needed already available

[witchygagirlwrites]

Broken Bonds-Part 34

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader, Jay Halstead x coparenting Reader, Jay Halstead x Hailey Upton

With a date picked and help from your teams everything for your wedding starts to fall in line

Fluff 🤷‍♀️

The date you and Mouse picked was April sixteenth. It was still early enough that the weather wouldn’t be too hot but still late enough that no one would be bundled up. It had taken a few nights, laughing over a calendar to figure out just when you wanted your wedding anniversary to be. Addy was already telling everyone at daycare that she was gonna throw flowers at Mommy and Mou’s wedding.

The venue was proving to be a bit of a harder find than picking a date however. Everywhere you liked didn’t have the date available or it had the date available and you didn’t like it or it just didn’t have the room to host a wedding. 

“This place only holds weddings if the bride can prove she’s a virgin going in by having a letter from her priest” you read off the site and Mouse looked horrified “Is there a way we can shut them down? Surely there’s something illegal going on there. Call sergeant Benson. Hell I’ll call around too” you laughed at his tone “Baby I don’t think we can” he shook his head “Even if it’s not illegal they’re still assholes” you shrugged “Hell we don’t even have a priest, We got Kev”

Kevin had surprised you a few weeks before by catching you one morning and asking if he could talk to you. You’d been stressing about finding someone to perform the ceremony because neither you or Mouse was really religious but you didn’t want just some random person that you barely knew either. “Lil mama, I got an idea” the moment Kevin said that you pushed back from your desk and cut your eyes up at him “That could be really good or really bad. What ya got Kev?” he grinned and walked around to sit on the edge of your desk and held out a piece of paper to you. You raised an eyebrow but took it. When you read it you realized it was a certification stating that Kevin was now ordained in the state of Chicago. You felt tears spring to your eyes “Kev, this costed..” “Doesn’t matter. You’re my best friend. You and Mouse have gone through hell to get to this point. Let me do the ceremony” you jumped up and wrapped both arms around him “I couldn’t possibly think of a better choice”

“Good point” Mouse laughed, moving to slip behind you on the bed so he could pull you back against his chest, pulling the laptop out of your hand. “We’re both off tomorrow baby. We’ll get back on it then but for tonight you need to relax” you cut your eyes back at him “And I’m in your arms to relax?” he grinned “Of course” he leaned over to put your laptop on the table next to the bed so you turned to curl up against his chest. “I love you Greg, it’s just…we’ve been looking at this for so long”

He looked down at you “Baby, we’ve only been engaged for six months” you cut your eyes up at him “Not what I meant” a smile slipped onto his face “Oh” “Yeah, oh. I’ve thought about marrying you since I realized I was in love with you. Now I just want everything in place. I fucking refuse to be a bridezilla because to be honest we could do a courthouse deal and I’d be happy” 

He shook his head “After everything we’ve been through love? We deserve a full wedding” you smiled “I know, I’m just saying. As long as I get to marry you, I’m happy” he smiled and leaned down to catch your lips in a gentle kiss “We’ll find a place baby. You’ve got to go dress shopping”  you grinned “I know. Addy won’t let me forget that” he laughed “Little miss is excited to find her dress” god knows she was. She kept asking you when you were going dress shopping. You had a day planned that you, Kim, Hailey and Stella all had off. 

“Well if we’re gonna get back on it tomorrow, can you just hold me please?” you asked and he smiled “I’d love nothing more” and turned so he could lay down with you wrapped up against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the side of your neck “Get some sleep sweetheart. We’ll figure it out tomorrow”

“Mommy, look!” The Christmas decorations were going up around town and Addy was in love with all the lights. You smiled “I see baby! They’re really pretty, aren’t they” she grinned and reached for Mouse “Mou! Look” he grinned at you as he took her from your arms “Want to go get a closer look?” she nodded so you watched the two of them as he walked her closer to the bundle of trees in the center of the shopping complex that she’d been eyeing.

They were decorated with kids in mind. The bright colors and cartoon characters adorning them were adorable. You took out your phone and snapped a couple photos while neither of them were paying attention to you. The amount of photos you had of just different people in your life with Addy was astronomical. Everyone loved her so much. 

Mouse’s phone started ringing so he shifted Addy to his other side to answer it and glanced over at you before a smile slipped onto his face. You were curious as to what that phone call was about until he hung up and walked over talking to Addy “Wanna go meet Kat-kat?” she nodded. That was what she’d donned Gwen’s wife when she first met her and Katie adored the nickname. 

“And why are we meeting Kat kat?” you asked and he grinned “She may have found a place that had April sixteenth open and she may be nearly positive that you’ll love it” you shrugged “In that case, lead the way Mou” Addy’s head swung around towards you with the most serious look on her little face “You don’t call him Mou” you laughed “I’m sorry baby. What should I call him?” She grinned “Greg or love” 

Mouse tried and failed to bite back the grin that was stretching across his face. You pressed a kiss to Addy’s forehead “I am so sorry babygirl. Come on Greg, love. Let’s go meet Kat kat” she nodded with a smile and he winked at you over her head.

____________________________

You followed Katie through the venue and were honestly in awe “This has got to be out of our price range” you whispered and she turned to face you with a smile “Well my father owns it so I would say it’s not considering it’s all yours for the sixteenth if you want it. Consider it mine and Gwen’s wedding present” 

It was perfect. There was a large window in the room that would hold the ceremony that had a view of the water, rooms for the bridal parties to get ready and two more large rooms to hold the reception in so one room could be reserved for food and the other for a dancing area. “Katie, are you sure?” she nodded “I’m sure” 

Addy wiggled out of your arms and spun around in the middle of the floor and Mouse laughed “Baby, I think that’s a yes” you looked at Addy “What ya think? Should mommy and Mou get married here?” she nodded so you looked back at Katie “Ok, we’ll take it. Thank you so much”

Mouse slipped his arms around your waist and pressed a kiss to your cheek “Well sweetheart that makes the date, the officiant and the venue. Looks like it’s up to you now to find your dress” Addy came running up to you and damn near crawled up you at the mention of a dress “Yeah mommy” you shook your head “Of course you’re agreeing with Mou”

Katie laughed lightly “You three are adorable” you cut your eyes up at her “Should see when me and Hailey are having to duck snowballs from her, him and Jay” she shook her head “I can only imagine” Mouse shrugged “In our defense her and Hailey have a long standing record of starting it”

You heard Hailey call your name so you cut your eyes up from your computer “Yeah babe?” she tapped her desk “We’re going dress shopping saturday, right?” you nodded “That’s the plan since me, you and Kim are off along with Stella. Let’s just hope the bad guys let us have it” she grinned “They better. We have got to find you a dress and Addy a flower girl dress”

You groaned “Believe me I know. I can’t find a style I like. They’ll all either too short and showy or look like I’m going to a freaking ball hoping the prince will notice me” She grinned “Don’t worry, we’ll find you the perfect dress” you nodded “I hope”

Hank stepped to the door of his office and hit the wall to get everyone’s attention “Warrant came down. Gear up, we roll out in five” you cut your eyes at Hailey and grinned “Well that is something I can handle” she shook her head.

You fell in line with everyone else as you all headed down to roll up to get into your gear. This warrant had been close to a week in the making. This guy was rolling in drugs across both borders, why the hell it had taken this long to nail his ass was because he kept paying low hanging fruits to take each and every charge for him. 

When you slipped your vest over your head Kevin adjusted the straps then turned for you to adjust his. You nodded to him “All set and don’t forget you have a tux fitting in a month” he nodded “I know lil mama. I got the reminder set in my phone” you grinned “Gotta have the officiant looking good in the photos” and winked at him before taking your long gun from Jay who shook his head “Wedding planning while getting ready to go on a raid and you’re a mom. Multitasking pro aren’t ya there babe?” you laughed “I try honey, I try”

___________________

You ducked down next to Kevin as you both waited for Hank’s go ahead. He cut his eyes at you and you nodded as Hank’s voice came across the coms “Take it” 

The house ended up having half a million in cash and probably double that in drugs. A total of six other arrests were made on top of the head guy the unit was after. All in all it was a success considering no one ended up in Med, not even any of the offenders. 

You stood next to Kim watching as the offenders were loaded into patrol cars. She nudged your shoulder with hers “So, I heard you found a venue” you laughed at the insanity of your life considering you’d just gotten into a fistfight with a six foot two drug dealer and won now you were talking about wedding stuff like you were standing in line at a coffee shop. 

“It found us. Katie’s dad owns it. She gave us a tour and offered it as her and Gwen’s wedding present” she smiled “That’s awesome. Well that means a date, an officiant and a venue. As soon as we get you a dress all you have to do is wait for the day” you nodded “And hope nothing goes wrong” she cut her eyes at you “What do you mean?” you sighed “Just, I’m happy, don’t get me wrong. You know how much I love that man. It's just like I’m waiting on the other foot to drop” she raised an eyebrow “Getting kidnapped and tortured wasn’t the other foot?” you shrugged and she shook her head “You and him have gone through plenty. You deserve a win”

Two wedding dress shops down and you’d yet to find a dress that you even halfway liked. None of them suited you. You didn’t want a ballgown because you wanted to be able to actually move in it but at the same time you wanted a dress that didn’t let your guests see everything that you would prefer leaving to just Mouse’s eyes.

“I feel like I’m dragging you all around town for nothing” you groaned, carrying Addy on your hip considering her stroller didn’t really fit too well in most of the dress shops. Between all four of you she just bounced around if she got too tired to walk. You’d asked Kim if she wanted to bring Makayla but apparently it was daddy/daughter day with her and Adam.

“It is not for nothing!” Stella scolded you with a grin before adding “We’re well I’d say your best friends but I’m your sister, Hailey is the wife and Kim is your favorite partner so there’s that” you laughed “I get the point Stel” she waved her hand “The point is if anyone is meant for each other it’s you and Mouse. We’re gonna find the dress that makes your eyes sparkle because as far as Mouse is concerned you could freaking wear that old CFD hoodie Kelly got you while you were pregnant with Addy and he’d be happy” 

You shook your head with a laugh because she wasn’t wrong. Every time you bought up concerns about not being able to find the right dress or not looking quite right Mouse would shake his head and say “You’re gonna look absolutely beautiful no matter what you’re wearing”

_________________

You managed to find Addy the perfect dress within about twenty minutes of being in the store. It was a long gown that had a white lace bodice with long sleeves and the skirt was made out of a flowing blush colored tulle fabric. When she tried it on she looked like a literal little princess. You went a size up to make up for the fact that the wedding wasn’t until April but beyond that it was the perfect choice for her. You, Hailey and Stella all three snapped photos to send to Mouse, Jay and Kelly.

The replies came in tandem She looks beautiful baby, Look at Daddy’s girl, She looks like a little princess

Kim laughed “Those three are wrapped around her little finger” you nodded “Oh two have been since birth and the other one has been damn near since he met her” Hailey shrugged “Hell Addy has Voight wrapped. It’s just her power” Addy smiled at the mention of Hank “Show Papa” you laughed “Baby Papa doesn’t really text like Mou, daddy and uncle Kelly”

“Oh otay” she replied before Stella took her in the dressing room to help her change into her regular clothes again. 

You cut your eyes at Hailey and Kim “Ok ladies we can handle the streets of Chicago. We can find a damn dress. Spread out” they both mock saluted you “Yes ma’am” 

Your phone went off with a text so you opened it to see it was another one from Mouse but this one had a photo of a rather elegant looking wedding cake. It was five layers, decorated with roses that were in the colors you picked and delicate golden crescent moons. Baby that is gorgeous but the cake can’t just be for me! You texted him and really wasn’t surprised when he texted back Sweetheart, I know your eyes lit up when you saw it. I already ordered it you shook your head and texted You’re ridiculous, I love you so damn much and he texted back I love you too

You slipped your phone back into your pocket and continued down the middle rack, fingers trailing over the gown until you paused on one. Delicate lace covered the bodice, it’s floral patterns trailing up to a soft illusion neckline and three quarter sleeves. The fabric was light, damn near weightless as you lifted the skirt, layers of soft tulle flowing like a gentle breeze. A hint of blush peeked through the ivory giving it a warm glow.

“Hails, Kim” you called out and they both appeared over your shoulder “Try it on, please” Hailey spoke first and you cut your eyes back at her with a grin as you lifted the dress. Stella was back out of the dressing room with Addy and grinned when she saw you with a dress “Did she find one?” She asked Kim who nodded. “Try it on mommy!” Addy giggled.

You stepped into the dressing room and closed the door behind you before quickly stripping your clothes off before slipping into the gown. You turned in front of the mirror and felt your heart flip. The lace hugged your body just right, the skirt swayed beautifully and gave you the range of motion you craved. You looked beautiful, you looked like a bride.

You stepped out of the dressing room and Hailey, Stella and Kim all stopped in their tracks before smiles slipped onto their faces “That’s the one” Stella spoke softly and you nodded “This is the one” “You look so pretty” Addy laughed and you grinned “Thank you baby!” then cut your eyes up at Stella who was tearing up “My little honeybee is getting married!” she moved to pull you into her arms and the other two women laughed, joining the hug as Addy slid into the middle of it.

The saleslady came over with a broad smile “I’m guessing by the group hug, we’ve found the dress?” you looked over Stella’s shoulder and nodded “Yes ma’am” 

All that was left now was for April to roll around so you could finally marry the love of your life.

@desimarie12

Part 35

@allisonargent144

@nevaehstreater18

@alexisquinnlee-bc

@courty-courtz00

@a-beaverhausen

[theboxofplague]

So it seems that choices reddit doesn't want people to post anything, so I'm bringing my once-every-two-years-or-so cover edit work onto the better site ♥

[starlvcied]

THINGS THEY DO THAT YOU FIND CUTE (CLASS 1-A) - [PT. 1]

characters ; izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugou, shoto todoroki, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, tenya iida, hanta sero, mina ashido, tsuyu asui, ochaco uraraka, kyoka jirou, momo yaoyorozu

g/n reader, no warnings.

✮⋆˙ - izuku midoriya : izuku physically cannot stand still. he has to be moving somehow, but he isn't really aware of this. he tends to have a habit of playing with his hair, whether it's running his fingers through it or twirling his finger around a few strands, you find it being the cutest thing ever. you never point it out though, because you know he would burst into a flustered mess and stop whenever he catches himself doing it. you find it cute, but he would find it so embarassing.

✮⋆˙ - katsuki bakugou : we all know this man is great in the kitchen. so, whenever you catch him cooking a meal for you, (or himself, mostly himself...) all you could do is smile. on one occasion, you were out running errands. you had come across an apron with the lettering "kiss the cook" on it. you picked it up with a smirk, imagined how he'd look in it, but you had figured he would just scold you for it. so, you put it back.

✮⋆˙ - shoto todoroki : he's so chronically offline. whenever you ask to do something trendy with him, he tilts his head at the idea and raises a brow at you. whenever you use any form of slang, he's just as confused. you try to explain, he still doesn't get it. urban dictionary is his best friend. the reason you don't explain this kind of stuff to him is because of that silly, clueless face he makes when he has no idea what you're talking about. it's a foreign language to him, but he tries his hardest to understand you.

✮⋆˙ - eijiro kirishima : kiri loves to manhandle you. tossing you over his shoulder, tackling you, throwing you onto the couch, anything like that leaves you a giggling mess. he knows you love it, too. he enjoys it just as much as you do.

✮⋆˙ - denki kaminari : he is always smiling. that has to be one of your favorite things about him. he has the teethiest smile after he does literally anything, especially when he does things to impress you. he has the most contagious smile you've ever seen. you love to see him smile, and you would do anything to make sure he's always cheesing.

✮⋆˙ - tenya iida : he is so damn respectful. i know we all are aware of this fact already but i want to put emphasis on it. walking down the street, he'd always help an elderly person. walking in/out of a store, of course he'd hold the door for the person behind you. he never forgets his manners. this is your favorite part about him, all you can do is admire.

✮⋆˙ - hanta sero : sero is not afraid to make things for you. you having a bad day? oh, he actually made you guys matching bracelets. he has a bead and string collection because he knows you love jewelry. he's also great at origami, he's always available to give you something. he can definitely crochet. you still sleep with the fat elephant he made you. you think its adorable, and you keep everything he gives you.

✮⋆˙ mina ashido : you love it when she asks to dance with you. she holds her hand out to you with a grin before pulling you into a tight embrace. it doesn't matter what the fuck kind of music is playing, megan thee stallion or lana del rey, you two will be dancing. she asks you so unexpectedly, but you don't complain. there will never be a boring moment with mina.

✮⋆˙ : tsuyu asui : tsu isn't much of a talker, but that definitely changes once she's with you. you guys have occasional yap sessions, some of them pertaining to nothing specific at all, you two just talk just to talk. you wanna gossip? she's all ears. you have something on your mind you think is stupid? she needs to hear it. she always listens to you, even if what you say makes no sense. she's so interested in what you have to say, you never feel like you're talking to a brick wall when you're with her.

✮⋆˙ - ochaco uraraka : karaoke. car karaoke is your guy's personal favorite. only one of your hands on the wheel, all four windows down, music to the max. usually, you would find this embarrassing. but ochaco always seems so happy singing with you. katy perry, wave to earth, laufey, taylor swift, red velvet, any artist of your choice. she loves listening to music with you, often sharing earbuds. but she definitely prefers borderline screaming in the car with you. you secretly admire each other, taking short, (maybe not so short) glances at one another. the way she's enjoying herself makes your heart melt knowing how comfortable she is with you.

✮⋆˙ kyoka jirou : she obviously plays her instruments to you. you love when she shows you snippets on some things she's been working on. the way she's so passionate and absolutely amazing at the thing she enjoys leaves you in a trance. her voice is music to your ears, and a soft smile grazes her lips when she notices how hard you're staring at her. if she could play you songs forever, she definitely would.

✮⋆˙ momo yaoyorozu : like sero, her love language is gift giving. since she's rich, she used to often travel before attending U.A. she has countless souvenirs from a variety of other countries, some you didn't even know existed. she also loves taking you on shopping sprees, she doesn't mind at all. momo does so much for you, and all you can do to return the favor is show her an endless amount of affection. you feel guilty she does all this stuff for you, but she assures you that it's okay and she loves doing this for you and seeing you happy. your heart drops to your knees. (in a good way, of course. <3)

[starlightkyeom]

building blocks | yjh (teaser)

(agreeing to be the teaching assistant is the last thing you want in a semester where you're already swamped with work. but, you need a letter of recommendation from the professor and you're out of other options. enter jeonghan, the menace who signs up for the class seemingly on a whim and disrupts your entire routine.)

pairing: master's student!jeonghan x TA!f!reader genre: university!au, strangers to ?? | fluff, some angst, smut rating: explicit, minors DNI (for the full fic) word count: 842 for the teaser (est. 12-14k) warnings: none for the teaser (full fic: smut, drinking, eating, etc.) full fic: september 13th!

a/n: i wanted to drop a teaser of my fic for the TA collab hosted by the amazing @camandemstudios. those two have been working so hard on this and i can't wait to read all the fics. but go easy on me because i know next to nothing about structural engineering. credit to @caelesjjk for this banner, it's so amazing 🥰

join my taglist here or leave a comment to be tagged in the full fic!

Your entire academic (and professional, for that matter) career has been a battle. A fight to be taken seriously. A fight to get the right classes. A fight to make the right connections. A fight for every inch that you’ve gotten. There are times that you wonder if it’s all worth it, wonder if anything should be as hard as this. But, all you’ve ever wanted was to be an engineer. To be able to leave your mark in some sort of meaningful way, even if that’s also a little conceited. It’s all you want and you’re so close to getting some much needed room to breathe. 

Except…

You have to make it through one last semester of this damn Master’s program. You had been able to find a sponsor to allow you to commit to a final semester full time, with only part time research work. That’ll put you in a good position to carry on for your Ph.D, with your dissertation topic already picked and funded. Things had been going entirely too smoothly, in hindsight. You should have known. Everything about your application to the upcoming program is perfect. Except for the final recommendation. And, of course, the professor to give that recommendation won’t just give it to you to recognize the years you’ve put into this. No. He implies that there’s something he needs from you.

Nothing really awful, in the grand scheme of things. Not for someone that does want to return as a lecturer at some point down the road. It’s just that you didn’t really want to be forced into a teaching assistant position for Professor Choi’s introductory structural engineering course. It’s the course that weeds out who’s actually going to carry on with the civil engineer branch of the Master’s program from those who may switch out to something that better suits them. Which, again, isn’t a huge deal, except that you remember how burnt out the TA looked from when you took the course and it’s the last thing you need during your last semester. It’s also hard to know that some portion of your future hinges on doing this. It’s also hard to forget another friend of yours admitting Professor Choi had given him a recommendation without the hoops.

Whatever.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and all that. 

So you schedule your regular meetings with the professor, make a separate email folder for all course related communication, jot down the important dates, and figure out which lessons you have to help plan. First up is going to be the introductory class. Professor Choi comes in and introduces himself while you distribute the syllabus, an odd task when everything is available online through the portal, but he likes things in hard copy. Once he’s done his introduction, he leaves the rest of the first class to you, as he had with the TA in your course during your first semester. For a moment, you consider pointing out that this is a Master’s level course and you don’t really need to do the typical introductions. Most of these people have busy lives and, even though they’ll have to work together on projects, can manage without syllabus week. But, Choi is old school and you know it. You also need his letter, so what’s the point in trying to change his system? You’re not here to do anything other than fill a spot that he was having trouble filling, get your letter, and go. 

When you scan the roster before the first day, nobody particularly sticks out. There are a couple of relatively familiar names, though you’re not sure you can place faces to them, but most of the students seem to be in their first semester of the program. It only takes getting to the introductions for someone in the course to stick out.

“Well, I’ve always been good at building Legos. I figure, how different can it really be?” one student answers.

It takes everything in you to school your face back into a politely interested expression when the rest of the class bursts out laughing. Your initial reaction had been incredulity. Surely he couldn’t be serious. There’s no way someone just wandered into this program because he liked building Legos. The laughter from the rest of the class dies down and you keep your attention on him.

“Why did you really join the program?” you ask. That’s what every student was supposed to be sharing. A problem for this student, apparently.

“That is why I joined,” he says with an infuriating smirk. 

“What did you say your name was?” you ask.

“Jeonghan,” he answers without anything else.

You consult the roster in front of you and put a star by his name. This is someone you know you’re going to have to keep an eye on. 

“Did I get a star already?” he prompts, earning another few chuckles from his classmates.

“Something like that,” you say and then turn to the person next to him. “And why did you join?”

i hope you enjoyed it! and less than a week til the full fic is posted 🫣

taglist: @newjihoonie, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @sunflowergyeomie, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @okiedokrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @jelly-n (strikethrough means can't tag)

[babyleostuff]

── OLYMPICS MASTERLIST

[🛹] DISCIPLINE: SKATEBOARDING

GENRE: fluff, strangers to lovers(ish), introverted reader, vernon being the greenest flag of them all PAIRING: skateboarder!vernon x athlete!fem reader WARNINGS: explicit language and a couple of sexist comments WORD COUNT: 3.1 k

“not the anti-sex beds again,” katie groaned, like it was the end of the world.   

rolling your eyes, you threw your duffle bags on the bed next to the window. though, as dramatic as she could get sometimes, and as much as you couldn’t wait for the games to begin - you were not looking towards sleeping on the cardboard monstrosities. the amount of massages you had to get four years ago because of them was not something you’d like to go through again.

“it’s not like you’re going to have sex anyway,” sam nudged katie with her shoulder and threw her own stuff on the bed next to yours.

“i’m not talking about myself, stupid,” katie said. “our friend over here,” she put her arms around you and squeezed your shoulders, “needs to get laid. she almost managed to bang that rugby dude the last time, and i can feel it in my bones,” she took a deep breath, ”she’s going to succeed this year.” 

you tried shoving her away, as sam erupted in a loud laugh. 

“hah hah, very funny,” you mumbled, and flicked katie’s forehead. “i’m here to win medals, not to find a hookup.”  

“mhm, sure,” sam said. “we’ll see about that.”

the next morning you stood up with the first rays of sunshine, a lot earlier than most people in the village, with a plan to make the most of your only day off before the eliminations. it’d get crowded quickly, so you figured it’d be nice to soak in the surroundings without hundreds of people bumping into each other. you didn’t bother to wake the girls up - you were eternally grateful you could share this amazing adventure with them, but you needed some time alone. 

besides, there was a 99% probability that sam would skin you alive if you tried cutting her beauty sleep short. 

before leaving the building, you managed, to your delight, to find the gym and the swimming pool, which surely would become really handy in a couple of days. then, you found a small farmacy a couple of blocks away, and a post office where you took a couple of pictures in a photobooth and wrote short letters to your friends at home, before throwing them into the mailbox. 

though the streets were starting to get busier and busier, because well - the athletes, their trainers, the volunteers, staff - everyone wanted to see what this year’s host had to offer, it was still pleasantly peaceful, and you could enjoy your time alone to the fullest. and apart from the cardboard beds, the village was so nice. the purple colours especially. 

just as you turned around the corner of south korea’s apartment complex, you felt and heard your tummy rumble, and thatwas your cue to find the dining hall. fortunately, it didn’t take you long. apart from the big ass signs with “dining hall”written all over them, most people that you passed were walking in one direction, which could only mean one thing.

after a short while, you entered the big room, all purple and pretty, already filled with hundreds of athletes and staff. 

scanning around the huge hall, you tried looking for someone, anyone you knew, but to no avail. most of the tables were already taken, but somehow, to your misfortune, none of them were taken by anyone from your country. you sighed and twisted the pendant hanging around your neck, trying to distract yourself from the fact that you’d be forced to sit at a table with people you did not know. 

there went your peaceful morning. 

without wasting more time, and before you’d completely spiral over the lack of familiar faces, you picked up a plate and cutlery and made your way to the queue for food, standing behind two chinese athletes. 

the line moved slowly, but you didn’t mind. as much as you weren’t particularly overjoyed with the loud noise and chaos, it was nice to do some people-watching. the different races, heights and widths, cultures, languages - all within one building - that had to be one of your favourite things about olympics. 

“isn’t that the chick kyle fucked last time?” suddenly a male voice pulled you out of your thoughts, as if your brain knew that the comment was direct to you. drowning out the noise around you, you tried your best to focus on the people behind you. 

“he didn’t fuck her, she ran away the second he touched her tits,” another guy said. “fucking prude,” he snickered. 

you felt your cheeks heat up - in embarrassment because you were right there, and they knew you could hear them, but also in anger because what they were saying was just not true. 

“i told him to go for the track runner, she had a better ass anyways,” the first guy said, as the other laughed. 

comments like these were nothing new. men like these were nothing new, but it didn’t make the ache in your chest any less painful. worst part was that you’d let them, you wouldn’t stop them - you couldn’t. anytime you tried standing up for yourself you felt at loss for words, your throat closed up, and your mind went blank. 

“excuse me, guys,” a new voice joined in. “the last time i checked this was the olympics, not who has a better ass competition.” 

you didn’t have the nerve to turn around to see who that new voice belonged to. you just clenched and unclenched your fists, trying to control your breathing. 

“also if i may suggest one thing-,” 

“you may not-,” 

“you may want to check out your own ass… or the lack of it,” you could hear the smile in his voice. 

the two guys grumbled something and left the line, but not before one of them bumped into you with too much force for it to be just an accident. muttering a curse under your breath, you massaged your slightly sore arm and prayed to whatever force for the two fuckers not to pass their eliminations. 

“are you okay?” you could feel the guy's breath on your neck. 

fuck, now you had no other choice but to acknowledge what had just happened. if it was up to you, you’d happily skip breakfast and run back to your room. who would’ve thought that the cardboard bed would be the equivalent of a safe haven. 

“uh,” you took a shaky inhale, “i’m okay.” 

“just turn around, smile politely, thank for the help, and move on,” you thought. but as you did that, your eyes went wide, and your breath hitched in your throat. 

you found a set of hazel brown eyes looking at you with curiosity and a tad of softness as if asking a silent question if you were really okay, a kind smile that managed to calm your pounding heart on its own, and cheeks dusted in a light shade of pink as if he had just finished his morning run. the guy couldn’t be much older than you and was the perfect height. you didn’t have to tilt your head in an uncomfortable way to look him in the eye, and he didn’t have to look down at you as if you were a dwarf. 

his dark brown hair was hidden under a beanie, and despite the oversized shirt and shorts, you could make out his lean build, which made him stand out from the other bulky men around. you quickly figured he was part of the us team by his outfit, but you couldn’t rack your brains around what type of sport he could be doing. 

he looked so… laid back compared to everyone around.  

“are you sure?” he asked, his gaze still attentive to you and you only. 

you nodded your head. “sorry you had to listen to that,” you said. 

“i’m sorry you had to listen to that,” the guy muttered. “you know those dudes are total douchebags, right?” annoyance flashed across his face for a second, “people like them shouldn’t even be here and-,”

“it’s okay, really,” you said with a stern voice, cutting him short. grateful - that’s what you were - and it was really nice of him to stand up for you, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling that he saw you as nothing more than a weakling that couldn’t even stand up for herself. and that had to be more embarrassing than the comments.  

he must’ve noticed your sour expression, because he quickly said, “i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“you didn’t, i… i’m sorry for snapping at you,” god, you really messed this up. this gorgeous boy just saved your ass from getting harassed, and you were acting like an ungrateful bitch. “i’m just not the best at dealing with… whatever that was,” you cleared your throat. “but thank you, it was really kind of you, and you didn’t really have to say anything, but-,” 

“but i would’ve been the biggest asshole if i hadn’t said anything,” he chuckled, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “i couldn’t just let those two fuckers say those things about you. about anyone for that matter. what kind of person would that make me?” 

you nodded, though if you had to be real - you were too distracted by his eyes to focus on what he was saying.

“okay, that sounded so pretentious,” he said, frowning, as if cringing at his own words. you couldn’t help but giggle at his expression. he looked really adorable despite his disgusted look. 

and that didn’t mean anything good. you knew yourself, and you knew how easily it was for you to fall for a person that showed you an ounce of kindness, even if they did it just because they were a good person. and that was probably what was happening now - he saw you getting harassed, he stepped in, said a couple of words, and that would be it. 

but you. you’d think about this for the rest of the olympics. about his teasing voice, the slightly curly hair coming out of his beanie, the fact that you’d never know what kind of athlete he was. the freaking hazel eyes. 

“i’m vernon, by the way,” he, or vernon, extended his hand. 

you cringed at the thought of your sweaty palms, still closed in fists. and it wasn’t like you could wipe them right in front of him. now that would just send you straight into a coma. but you took it anyway, it couldn’t get worse than the comments about your flat ass, you figured. and if he noticed he didn’t say anything, just smiled and nodded when you told him your name. 

“so, do you have any plans for today?” he asked, letting go of your hand way too soon for your liking. 

“i was planning on eating breakfast, but…,” you shrugged. 

“well, i might have an idea then,” he said, a proud smile on his face. “have you ever tried skateboarding?” 

…

you did not think this through. 

trying to skate on a wooden board with four wheels sounded kind of appealing at the moment, but now - now that you were about to actually stand on it? huh yeah, you’d rather stick to keeping your own two feet on the ground.

“it’s not going to kill you, you know?” vernon laughed, as you looked at the board in front of you with pure horror. there was no way anyone could survive skating on that thing, let alone doing tricks and flips or whatever they did with that torture device.  

“just,” he pulled the board closer to you with his foot, “lean your weight on me first and i’m going to hold you, just so you can get comfortable standing on it,” he said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. 

would he think you were a complete loser if you ran away? maybe you could blame it on a sudden stomach bug or something. 

“mhm, yeah,” you breathed, grabbing his extended hand. “easy peasy.” 

luckly for you, the skatepark was still relatively empty since most of the village was trying to fight others in the queue for food, so the chance of you skating into someone by accident was almost non existent. but that did not change the fact that you were on the verge of a panic attack. why did you say yes to this? why did you step out of your comfort zone so easily? comfort zone was good - you loved your comfort zone. that was what kept you safe from agreeing to skateboarding on a whim. 

but it was so easy to say yes when vernon looked at you with so much kindness. you just weren’t able to decline - there was something about him that put you at ease, whether it was his voice or mannerisms - he oozed with so much calmness that even your erratic heart was screaming “say yes!” 

“put your right foot in front of the left one,” he said, still grasping your hand tightly. “and keep your knees bent, it’ll help with keeping your balance.” 

you watched him as he showed you how you were supposed to stand correctly, and tried to mirror his stance the best you could. 

“that’s perfect,” vernon said with a bright smile, as if you just won the gold medal for not falling off the board on the first occasion. “told you you’d do a great job.” 

“this is ridiculous,” you muttered, as your legs wobbled. “i’m looking worse than a baby trying to walk.” 

he rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, making you giggle. “i love your form of self motivation. now,” still holding onto you, vernon walked around the board, “uh, is it okay if i put my hand on your waist?” he asked, and your heart skipped a beat.

usually, you’d immediately say no, but… there was nothing usual about vernon as it turned out. if this was your day of breaking your walls then so be it. you nodded in agreement. “try to put your left foot on the ground and push yourself forward,” he said. 

your thin t-shirt did nothing to conceal the warmth coming from vernon’s hand, but somehow, instead of making you more nervous, it only calmed your wobbling feet and shaking hands, grounding you on the board, making it less scary by the second. you’d never met anyone before who had been so gentle with you, so patient and understanding so quickly. 

“like this?” you took your left foot off the skateboard, but before it could reach the ground you wobbled backwards. “vernon!” you shrieked, ready to fall ass first on the asphalt, but that never happened. your back met his solid chest before you could move more than an inch. 

“‘s okay,” he said, gripping your waist tighter. “i’m right here.” 

you breathed a sigh of relief. “i don’t think this is a good idea,” you looked over your shoulder at him. “what if i break your board?” 

“i have ten others,” he stated as a matter of fact, not bothered at all even if you actually broke his board. “try again, i’ve got you.” 

the next try went a little bit better, at least you managed to put your foot down without bumping into him again.

“okay, now push yourself forward.” 

“just… don’t let go, okay?” 

“i won’t,” vernon said. you could feel him so close to you, his breath creeping down your neck. “i won’t.” 

you never thought you’d feel so accomplished by such a simple thing, you were a gold winning athlete for god’s sake, but when you finally moved, when the board skated forward and you were still standing on it - you felt a flicker of pride settle in your chest.  

“that’s it,” vernon said, giving your hand a squeeze. “you’re doing great. try doing that again.” 

and so you did just that. you pushed yourself forward, again and again, until your feet weren’t wobbling at all, and your moves were getting more confident.

“i’m doing it, i’m…,” you laughed, “vernon, i’m skateboarding,” you said, pushing once more. 

“yes, you are!” 

wait. why was his voice so distant? 

that’s when you realised you couldn’t feel his hand on your waist anymore, nor were your fingers intertwined with his. 

“vernon?” you asked, alarmed. 

“just don’t turn around-,” 

but it was too late. you took a look behind you to see vernon standing a couple of metres behind you, and that was enough to lose all of the balance, all of the control. 

“shit,” you heard him scream, right before you closed your eyes shut, readying yourself for the impact. 

the board flew forward as you slipped backwards, your hands flying to your slides trying to hold onto something. but there was nothing, just air. 

but then - the strong grip, the warm embrace, the hands that you trusted so much - you could feel him all around you. no pain, no broken bones - just vernon. 

“shit, i’m so sorry,” he said, still holding onto you. “i shouldn’t have let you go.” 

gently, he helped you sit on the ground, his eyes scanning all over your body, looking for any injuries. 

“it’s fine, i just panicked,” you said, and put your hand on his shoulder, pulling his gaze back to your eyes. “seriously, it was actually quite fun.” 

at that, vernon’s expression softened a bit, and after a second he even flashed you a smile. 

“that’s good, that’s…,” he exhaled. “that’s a lot for one morning i think.” 

you laughed, and shook your head. “yeah, i think you’re right. but you know,” you looked over at the board that was still rolling on its own. “i think i’ll stick to watching you skate. i don’t think i’m built for this.” 

his body shook with a silent giggle. “i’m still proud of you.”

“thank you,” you said quietly. and you truly meant it - not only for catching you, or trying to teach you how to skate - but for standing up for you when he could just ignore it and move on with his day, for pulling you out of your little safe bubble. that thank you meant a lot of things and you hoped that vernon knew that. 

“were you serious, though?” 

you frowned, not really sure what he ment. 

“that you want to watch me skate?”. 

any other day you’d say no, but… 

“yes. i’d really love to.” 

a beautiful smile bloomed on vernon’s face, and you knew right there and then that the feeling of gratitude was forming into something more than just that. 

“my eliminations are in two days, uh and maybe, only if you want, you could come?” 

you nodded eagerly. at this point you weren’t sure you were able to tell this man no at all. 

and you couldn’t wait to see where that would get you. 

[azzibuckets]

pazzi tennis fic when 🤔 jkjk I just love your writing 🤗

doubles [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

a/n: the us open fic all of u were begging me for….i didn’t rly know what to write about so i combined a bunch of ur requests

masterlist

“Dude, your story looks ass.”

Paige’s thumb immediately swiped back to the Instagram app. Clicking on her profile picture, she studied the photo with a frown. “It looks exactly like yours,” she said, baffled.

Azzi shoved her own phone in Paige’s face. “Definitely not,” she mused as she compared the two screens side by side. “You’re just not good at taking pictures.”

Paige scowled. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about bro, they look exactly the same.”

“It’s okay.” Azzi leaned in and pinched Paige’s cheek, a mocking smile on her lips. “Not everyone can be good at everything like me.”

“Man, shut up.” Paige laughed, flicking Azzi’s hands away from her face. Her attention fell back to Azzi’s knee where it was propped up against the seat in front of them. “How’s it feeling?”

Azzi looked down and grimaced. “It’s still flaring up.” Her thumbs creased over her knee, trying to massage away the throbbing ache, but to no avail. Paige’s heartstrings tugged a little as she watched Azzi stare at her knee. It had been hell when she’d tore her own ACL, both physically and mentally, and she hated the idea of her girlfriend having to go through it a second time.

“You shouldn’t have pushed yourself so hard in practice yesterday,” Paige reproached, gently pushing Azzi’s hands aside to replace them with her own. She gently kneaded the tissue with her fingers, eyes fixed on Azzi’s face for any signs of pain.

Azzi tipped her head back and slowly exhaled. She was tired from all of this shit, tired from having to watch from the sidelines as all the other girls participated in the intense drills. She missed that feeling of sweat running down her back, muscles aching and lungs pumping as she ran up and down the court. What was worse was the pitying looks all her teammates sent her way, all the pats on her back that were supposed to make her feel better but only made her feel like shit. It wasn’t their fault, and Azzi loved her teammates for trying, but she was so goddamn sick of it. “I already have Geno and CD and all the trainers breathing down my back, I don’t need you to coddle me too,” Azzi responded, her tone coming out harsher than she meant for it to.

Paige’s movements halted. “I’m just trying to look out for you,” she said. “The last thing I want is for you to tear your ACL again.”

Azzi rubbed her temple. “Yeah, I know, I know.”

Paige fell silent, continuing to work Azzi’s knee with her fingers, but she didn’t look at her, instead focusing instead on Coco as she flew across the court.

“I’m sorry,” Azzi said finally. “I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just tired of being treated like I’m fragile. It’s like everyone thinks I’m weak.”

Paige dipped her head against Azzi’s ear, lips gently brushing her earlobe. “No one thinks you’re weak.” She twisted her bracelet against her wrist, making sure Azzi could see the letters spelled out across the beads. “Resilient, remember? You’re the toughest person in the whole fucking world.”

Azzi dropped her head against Paige’s shoulder. “Thank you, Paige.”

Paige hummed, continuing to rub her thumb in soothing circles around Azzi’s knee. “You tired?”

Azzi stifled a yawn. “So tired.”

“If your knee’s still bothering you, we can go home,” Paige offered.

“No, I wanna meet Coco and I know you do too. It’s fine.”

Paige gently tapped Azzi’s leg. “Are you sure? There’s still a few hours.”

Azzi waved her off. “I’ll pop some painkillers. But I hope you know you’re paying for my ice cream after this.”

Paige shook her head. “You only reminded me about a few thousand times on the way here.”

Soon after, Azzi moved a seat over so that she could fully stretch out her leg. She looked around the stadium, taking in the buzzing atmosphere and lively crowds before turning her gaze back to Paige, who was frowning so hard that there were wrinkles between her brows. “Are you seriously pouting right now?” Azzi laughed.

“You didn’t have to move,” Paige insisted. “There’s already plenty of space.”

“Tell that to my fucked up knee.”

Paige got up to take the seat next to Azzi, but Azzi reached over and pushed her back down. “You seriously have attachment issues,” Azzi teased, but loving every second of it.

“I can’t even kiss you and shit and now you’re saying I can’t sit next to my own girlfriend?” Paige grumbled, shaking her head in annoyance.

Azzi grinned, knowing exactly what would tick Paige off even more. She loved seeing the blonde all riled up, especially for her. “It’s getting kinda hot,” she said casually, slowly taking off her sweater and balling it up.

Paige’s eyes immediately fell down, gaze tracing the slope of Azzi’s neck to the jut of her collarbone, and finally down to the dip in her tank top across her chest, where it stayed until Azzi threw her sweater at the blonde. “You’re such a whore,” Azzi smirked.

Paige blinked rapidly, trying to get ahold of herself. “And you’re such a fucking tease,” she complained, stuffing the sweater under her arms.

Azzi leaned over the seat between them. She wrapped one of Paige’s slut strands around her finger, biting her bottom lip as she looked up at the older girl through her lashes. “What were you saying?”

Paige’s mouth opened and closed in a stutter, suddenly finding herself unable to speak.

Azzi giggled and leaned back, snapping Paige out of her trance again. “So fucking whipped.”

Paige’s glare burned into the side of Azzi’s face. “You know what? You can go and pay for your own damn ice cream.”

Azzi was already scrolling on her phone, nails tapping against her screen. “Don’t even try and start. We both know you’re gonna end up paying anyways.”

“Fuck you.”

[brynn-lear]

When Cuckoos Throw Ores [Yandere!Jing Yuan x Reader]

Questionable Overview: After transmigrating to Teyvat, you and Jing Yuan had lived like family on your shared apartment as getting-by descenders. But, you made an error too grave. You hid the anonymous love letters you received from the person you should’ve trusted the most— and now you’ve got yourself a broken mind. [Fic written for May June]

CWs/tags: yandere themes, isekai, moments where you wish Jing Yuan just committed murder instead so it would hurt less, mentions of failed childbirth, nadia & vlad are adorable, implied hysteria, cute n' wholesome beginning w/ found family to "man... man.", gaslighting gatekeep is JY's passion.

"I'm an adult, Jing Yuan! I think I have the right to leave as I please."

Have you ever been so incredibly fascinated by such a mundane object that all worldly noise drowns?

"The right to trample on my heart? To leave me to drown in my despair while you obsess over a single ore without a single thought for me? I must say, it doesn’t seem very sound. Stay put while I call for Doctor Baizhu."

Have you ever had your hand reach out ever so slightly without you realizing such? For your fingers to curl— for you to seize a trinket as though you were compelled by an existence— an idea higher than any mortal comprehension? As though it was fate? As though it was a fruit you weren't meant to take a bite off?

But the most mundane of all…

"There’s no need! Because great General and Emanator of the Hunt Jing Yuan—"

Have you ever lamented a life that "never" happened?

"— I have the right to mourn the happy ending you took from me!"

Though those uninitiated will rehash the root of events in your arrival to the chasm, the most knowledgeable would start the accounts from your arrival to Teyvat.

You did not step foot alone.

When your worldline was destroyed, so, too, was Jing Yuan's. 

Lady Ningguang greeted you both with a good measure of skepticism. You were both "descenders.", though it was soon made evident that your origins are different. He was from "Xianzhou Loufu," and you were from "Earth."  Course, despite your shared tragic circumstances, not everything shall be handed on a silver platter for unfortunate souls. Ningguang was kind enough to provide you both with a shared apartment complex near the fishing port and since then, you and Jing Yuan had a bond not so dissimilar from siblings. He got a job as a general, and your current position is a little more flexible than your previous one.

Whatever principles and studies were available in the previous realms you lived in, they were carried over in Teyvat. Each word circulating about Jing Yuan’s undefeated sword and lance techniques makes you smile; he, in turn, would enthusiastically applaud your sold artworks and STEM innovations. It makes you wholly embarrassed every time he makes what is supposed to be a celebration of his mission’s success into a congratulatory speech for what you’ve done in the same timeframe. Didn’t matter how minute it was. His comrades had already considered the long-standing tradition as a not-so-private joke.

His lack of personal praise worries you sometimes…

There’s a stark difference in your approach to this new life. You mourned for yours being gone; while he doesn’t speak much about his.

“No rush,” he'd say. “All truths shall reveal itself in due time.”

You know about his world, though vaguely. He has a striking resemblance to the character from Honkai: Star Rail. Course, that implies he had gone through similar ordeals as the character. 

“I am an old man, there is nothing for me to grieve.” He told you once. “I have… already witnessed comrades pass, and then some. Have you encountered the phrase: there are fates worse than death?”

Jing Yuan closed his eyes.

“I… find it easier to assume that it might be the only way to put old conflicts to rest.” He shook his head and downed his final shot of baijiu. Yuan sighed, tasting the aftermath in his breath.

“It’s better to put a permanence in death than another forced rebirth.”

He poured you a shot.

"Some memories are better left forgotten. And that applies to you, too."

Whatever he said felt untranslatable to you, hence, you gave up on making more inquiries. If the day comes and he wishes to open up, you'll be there for him anyway.

Or so you thought.

“Heard you’re planning to add another medal to your jacket.” 

Jing Yuan nearly halted from tying his long hair up. You watched his shoulders tremble, likely from trying to compose himself.

“Ha! You've heard a half-truth, I wasn't scheming on anything, it was merely handed to me.” His tone was calm, but you heard the well-hidden smugness.

You shrugged and sipped your coffee nonchalantly. 

… You seriously wish his uniform didn't hug his form that good. Just staring at him makes the room feel degrees hotter. 

You cleared your throat.

“I didn't say anything about schemes, Jing Yuan. Suspicious.”

“Oh?” He hummed, almost sultry for your ears.

…Curse him and his damn beatific smiles.

This playful banter is as natural as the dawn of day. Rather than spending the early morning getting ready for the day, you've both grown accustomed to teasing the other person. He, in his finely ironed uniform, and you, in your comfy pajamas. 

“Since when have I besmirched my name by squandering time? Rude of you to imply that slothfulness rules over my life.” Jing Yuan joked before he moved another piece. “You wound me, dear (Y/n).”

Due to the nature of the conversation, you hadn't thought of your next move much as you continued to probe him. “And what exactly are you doing right now instead of reporting to the Qixing, General?”

He smirked. “I am on-duty, am I not?”

“By talking to me?”

“I have been bound by mundane duties in both my past and current lives, and I must say, engaging with a Person of Interest such as yourself has not only been productive but also mentally stimulating.”

You paused. 

Person of Interest…?

Might as well curse him and his fancy cursive way of implying something too. 

Your nose scrunched. “Are you saying I'M on the Qixing’s watchlist?!—”

“Not in a bad light; don’t worry your pretty head over such menial matters,” he ruffled your hair as he craned over, gazing at your disgruntled morning expression with a loving vigor. “They have an eye for your talent. No Ministry would ever obsess over a clean criminal record.”

You grumbled as you attempted to fix your hair, despite lacking any energy. “Thanks, that calms me down. Especially with the talks about criminal activity on the rise and all.”

He laughed at your snarkiness.

“Is this your best attempt at prying information? I must say, your current occupation suits you. I can now place a finger as to why the thought of Lady Ningguang hiring you as a profiler put me in tremendous unease.”

“Oh don’t be a prick, Yuan.” You chuckled heartily as you gave him a playful slap— which he no doubt avoided. “But seriously, can’t you tell me more about what’s happening?”

There were no further words needed. Such rumors had been on the forefront of the people’s minds: a group of rogue “mercenaries” had found new temptations in banditry— and had the nerve to stew misfortunes on the main harbor itself. As a newly enforced general, Jing Yuan had, of course, been subjected to handling this situation under the ever-watchful gaze of the Qixing. A challenge, as he likes to label it. Whatever helps him sleep at night, you’d reply.

Although, it would certainly soothe YOUR insomnia better if he were to divulge even a hair-sliver of detail in regards to how “safe” this mission truly was.

“(Y/n), there is no cause for concern.” He pulled back, placing his hands on your shoulders. “You know my repertoire— else I wouldn’t consider you a close friend.”

Your heart ached for a second.

In small snippets from the multiple conversations you’ve had with him, you knew he kept his list of close friends few. There’s always a hint of guilt in his voice when he talks about those named Baiheng, Jingliu, Yingxing, and Dan Feng in passing. 

“And I’m just worrying over you,” you lightheartedly glared and waved your hand dismissively. “You know, like a real close friend.”

You both grinned in unison as if telling each other that neither would back down from this “argument” any time soon. He snorted and messed your hair up more. Over the time you’ve spent in each other’s company, your near-telepathic way of conversing has become quite an eerie issue for other mutual friendships. 

Not that either of you minded this. It’s always nice to be understood. 

“I know that look in your eye. Don’t add a part two from last night’s horror stories, please.”

“Then, I’ll take my leave,” he buttoned his jacket. “Last reminder before I go: you have arranged a meeting with Nadia this afternoon.”

“Thanks,” you huffed. “But unlike you, I don’t sleep in and forget my schedule.”

You swore that even after the door was closed, you heard him chuckle yet again. After that, he was gone.

Honestly, with someone with a “life-loving” temperament like him, you’re unsure if he’s easy to please— or too damn good at faking it for his good.

You heard soft knocks against your window.

Slowly, a grin forms on your lips.

“Hello, little man…” You cooed as you stood up and opened for not only the fresh Liyue morning breeze to enter…

But for a diligent little cuckoo bird to deliver its very special package as well.

You’ve always had a soft spot for animals…

“Hmm?”

Your eyes softened as it dropped its parcel and leaned its body against you, warming itself by sitting cozily on your window ledge. This little bird is quite the skilled messenger— always dropping by as soon as Jing Yuan takes his leave. As to why it suspiciously arrives as soon as he is gone, you’re unsure. Such a sneaky creature; you can’t help but adore it.

That’s not to say its deliveries are not as equally charming.

You chuckled as you elegantly unwrapped the ribbon. The letter was elegantly written in a scrawl you’ve familiarized even with eyes closed for the past months, yet it still holds an intensity that makes your heart flutter. 

There it was. The two words that keep you going better than any coffee brew.

“My dearest, (Y/n),….”

“Another letter from Vlad, I’d hope?” You sneaked from behind.

Nadia yelped, hitting you almost immediately. The delay was surely from being on a lovelorn cloud-nine, but her Fatui training that earned her last name definitely should’ve made you double-think.

You shriveled at the pain and she awkwardly cradled you.

“Oh shucks— I’m so sorry, (Y/n)! I-I didn’t realize it was y-y— Don’t scare me like that!” 

“Sorry! Sorry!” You hissed, blaming only yourself for the stinging aftermath. “I-I’ll get over it.”

Nadia guided you to the empty seat beside her. As soon as you were seated, she wasted no time to spill.

“The contents were far too adorable for my heart, oh, dear Tsaritsa, you NEED to read this.” 

An eyebrow was raised. Saying you had a suspicion that something like this would happen would be an understatement— when it came to Nadia, it was more like routine. It had been regular for you and her to get together at least once a month to chat over letters that you both received. Nothing about the time you spent with her was dull. She's the reason you adapted to the Liyue way of life so well. As you were both foreign to the culture— you and Jing Yuan are admittedly the extreme cases— you and her were eager to recount experiences in times of distress. And times of pure unbridled lovesick joy, such as this.

“C’mon, pass it.” You tried to say cooly, but the glimmer in your eyes betrayed your high school-like excitement.

“Same time.” Nadia huffed. "Can't have you gatekeeping your own letter!"

You pulled out yours from your purse.

Nadia wasn’t the only one with something to present to the class. This is just like a teacher forcing students to read their discreetly passed notes out loud. 

Nadia has her Vlad.

You have your Nay Jung I.

Instantly, you both suppressed a giggle in the abrupt exchange.

Nay Jung I. You know little about him, and that intrigue keeps the fire going. When you see a white cuckoo passing by the window, you immediately know it means well. A sight that makes your heart skip a beat. Instead of pushing eggs, it slips a love letter whenever Jing Yuan isn’t around. All coming from a man you can’t track down.

That’s right.

You have a secret admirer.

As you read through the middle of Vlad’s letter for Nadia, you heard your very-much-an-adult friend bite back a squeal in front of you. Nay Jung I may sound like a feminine name, but he was a man. You could’ve sworn you saw Xiangling laugh from the corner of your eye as Nadia tugged your sleeve around like a fool.

“Oh my God?! He wrote that?!” Her lips were akin to wobbly lines toddlers would draw when mimicking the sun’s rays. 

“I find myself constantly catching glimpses of you in my daydreams, my mind flooded with what could be— what should be. Forgive me for my selfishness, but I fear it won’t take long before I can no longer bear the thought of being without you… What?! That’s so SWEET?!” Nadia clutched your love letter tightly, eyes wide as though she was the recipient.

Xiangling, bless her soul, had to peek behind her.

“I wish I could have the courage to reveal myself to you. When I doubt myself, my thoughts turn to you… Aww… I wonder who Mister Nay is and what did you do to get him this in love?” Xiangling playfully pouted, which made Nadia grin wider, almost teasing her. “Geez. When will I get a boy to send me letters?”

“I’m sure you’re going to get one or two someday. A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, right?” Nadia shrugged as she folded the paper and hid it. “Plus, I fear you’re too young for this.”

“Careful, Dia, she’s the one preparing our food.” You joked.

Nadia has grown more friendly to locals for the better since you started sharing meals here. Everyone knows the feelings between her and Vlad were mutual— but neither of them was willing to confess. With Nadia hoping he initiates, and him densely hesitant on whether she reciprocates. One of them can end this phase should they abandon pride or cowardice.

But Nay Jung I?

You can’t find his records anywhere… And he had told you that it is a fake name by your fourth letter, much to your chagrin.

So, you’ve settled with this arrangement. For now, you are both friends, despite knowing he has feelings for you from the start.

“Mister Nay definitely has it bad for you, Mx. (Y/n).” She gave you a closed-eyed smile. “You need to write back immediately! The man’s probably starving for it!— Oh, right, the pot!!!”

As the chef rushed back after being distracted, you gave Nadia’s letter back to her.

“Any chance of rain?” You asked.

“Cloudy with negative one percent chance that I’ll run to Northland Bank and confess to Vlad.” Nadia spoke sheepish;y.

“That’s at least five percent higher than yesterday.”

“Well, this last letter was adorable.” She swooned.

“Mx. (Y/n), you seem incredibly free at the moment, care to have a chat?”

You turned to look at the new person who joined in.

Fur coat, a distinct mole placement, a sharp haircut, and eyes self-assured enough to conceal their need for urgent assistance, it has to be none other than—

“Miss Yelan,” you gave her a polite smile. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Nadia sat up straight, shifting to her work mode. “Is there some business you require from the Northland Bank?”

“I have no quarry with you, Madam Nadia, what I do want—” Yelan tilted her head, her eyes calculating. “Is to speak to (Y/n) in private.”

You paused, recalling the conversation you had this morning.

‘I have been bound by mundane duties in both my past and current lives, and I must say, engaging with a Person of Interest such as yourself has not only been productive but also mentally stimulating.’

Maybe this is what Jing Yuan was warning you about this morning.

“Fine, I concede.” You sighed, swiftly snatching your letter from Nadia’s hands and tucking it inside the pockets of your inner jacket.

“Lead me to where you most need me.”

Over the years you’ve spent on Liyue, you’ve had another habit you’ve been nursing on the sidelines.

Epigraphy.

Better yet, it’s for the sole purpose of decoding ancient artifacts. Before you were transmigrated into Teyvat, you found that inspecting artifact descriptions and reading through lore strewn in notes and dialogues were a great part of what made playing Genshin Impact enjoyable. You devoured theories whether they were from YouTubers like Ashikai or other CCs who were eager to unravel and analyze myths from different civilizations. To be inside THE sandbox was the greatest treat. If your friends were here, you have no doubt you’d have plenty who’d look and try to pick apart Mister Zhongli’s brain.

Unfortunately, you never managed to catch his eye.

And the biggest misfortune of all, you caught Miss Yelan’s instead.

“It’ll take me a few weeks to decipher and solve this puzzle…” You told her hesitantly. “And I can’t guarantee anything either.”

Yelan only tilted her head. Strands of her hair hid her expression, and the only body language to be read was the way she played with the die on her fingers. You wondered if she was deciding your fate by giving it a roll…

You looked at the inscribed walls.

A man with horns… and his partner wearing a long hanfu… His partner… Reminds you of a beautiful cuckoo bird.

You sighed.

When she bargained for a chat in “private”, the Chasm was the last location you had in mind. Even more, it did not occur to you that she aimed to use you as a translator. For a language you only learned a few years ago.

You knew you couldn’t exactly deny a member of the Qixing, especially with how much you carried a moral debt for Lady Ningguang, so you agreed under the condition that Yelan wouldn’t snitch to Jing Yuan.

He might just give you the silent treatment if he found out you were here.

But back on the walls and the puzzle mechanism in the middle of the room…

Both were seated under the shade of a tree… 

Each holding a cup of tea…

“Damn it, why me?” You cussed out loud.

You seriously want to tell her that she should’ve chosen Zhongli. 

Not that you’d know that Yanfei begged Yelan to hire you for the job.

Yelan made her dice vanish. “If you need further assistance, and by that I meant necessities such as food and water, call for Wenyuan or Shanghua. They’ll materialize right in front of you.”

On the next wall, the horned man tightly held his partner, with tears falling from his eyes… His tail was more apparent in this depiction, but there were crystallized ambers and statues all around…

Like they were running…

Away from him…

You faced Yelan.

“Yelan, can’t you call for someone else—”

You blinked.

She was gone.

You don’t like being here.

You don’t like this cave.

You’re not sure whether you liked the fact Yelan invited you here. On one hand, you were grateful for the opportunity, but at the same time, you thought yourself unqualified for whatever piece of ancient Liyuean history was waiting to bite you in the ass. 

It didn’t take a genius to know that whoever the drawn man was, he was a force to be reckoned with. You played enough Genshin to know that yakshas are not to be trifled. If this ended up as an Azhdaha scenario, you wouldn’t want to be the nameless NPC who died along the way.

Should’ve commissioned the traveler.

As you progressed in your decoding, the texts were beginning to gnaw you. 

“Have you heard the tale of Lady ███ ███?”

You trembled at the thought.

Curse Jing Yuan and his ghost stories.

The story wasn’t even that frightening.

What got you was how Jing Yuan sold them. He had preached it as though he had been a witness. It’s just a typical unnerving tale to keep children alert, but he had always been far more persuasive than you.

“When she and her husband were out exploring, her husband left her while she sired his heir. He left her there to die.”

Jing Yuan’s eyes narrowed. You quietly applauded his commitment to the bit. Should you not know any better, you would’ve thought he hated that man more than anything.

Like he was seething with jealousy.

“Some claim he hid her there to fight for a war, some say it was out of love… In my eyes, it was an unforgivable neglect.”

Jing Yuan claims sharing ghost stories was a common occurrence from when he used to teach his disciple. But you’re not an idiot. You can sniff out a reason why he loves to bring these stupid tales.

“Days felt like a prison tally. She had forgotten what it felt to live in the sun.”

“She lived only by fulfilling basic needs. No matter how thick the mud was, no matter what was within the soil— all she could do was bitterly swallow what was to come. She bit her tongue on the ever-growing famine— and wished that her child would survive.”

Jing Yuan does not want you anywhere near the chasm.

“So when it was time to give birth, she had no assistance. She pushed her child out as hard as she could, and laid an empty egg.”

Before you could even ask why a human would lay an egg, Jing Yuan continued.

“But they both passed away.” 

“Legends say, that’s the reason why the lumenstone ore glows. It contains the watchful gaze of a scorned mother and unborn child…”

“And if you aren’t careful, you too—”

“Could be trapped inside it.” 

You scoffed.

Was the tale stupid? Depends on who you ask. Was it sad? Sorta. Was the thought of two ghosts— possibly more— watching you as you were forcibly dispatched to read through The Chasm’s secrets terrifying? Given the dark and brooding atmosphere, it was a quiet yes.

“Hmm? I— I solved it…?”

You blinked.

Maybe you still retained your skills as a Genshin player. Anything for a luxurious chest is what you would’ve said. And yet, it still baffled you that one did appear.

When you unlocked it, you saw no “primogem” like you quietly hoped (it would be funny if you unlocked a wish function, but that’s unlikely…)

Instead, you found a dusty ore.

“Great.” You muttered dryly. “Just what I needed.”

It was amber in color, same as the clothes the man wore in the wall paintings. You’re at a loss on how you should report this to Yelan.

“Better than nothing.” You spoke, laughing slightly. That sounded like something Diluc would say. You should buy a dandelion wine after this hard work.

Quickly, you fished out the gloves in your pockets. It was made of nitrile, which should protect the ore from possible oil and moisture from your hands. Yelan was very insistent you wear it.

But as soon as you touched the ore…

Your consciousness slipped away.

There was a man in front of you.

But you couldn’t see his face. 

“Dearest ███ ███…” The horned man smiled delicately as he sipped his tea. “It has been centuries since our first wedding ceremony. Do be honest with me, do you still hold the same passion as before.”

These memories appear to you in a blur.

“No, I do not.” You heard your voice say as the man’s shoulders slowly deflated. His amber eyes looked down, and his smile began to strain.

With two fingers, you lifted his chin.

“If anything, my love for you has grown stronger,” you spoke. “For you and I shall never let our draconic instincts dull, and our union will be the greatest treasure we shall hoard in this never-ending flow of time.”

“…/n…!”

One hand took his scaley hand and the other held his cheek, caressing softly.

“Promise you shall return?” You heard yourself mutter, this time weak and hopeless.

He leaned against your palm, purring as though it might be the last time he’ll savor your warmth.

“You know I do not make promises, ███ ███.” He spoke firmly. “What I keep are contracts. And I have vowed to make you happy, for as long as I live.”

“…(Y… (Y/n…. snap… out…!”

“Contracts normally sound so cold, but your honeyed voice makes it sound so romantic.”

“You know well, my love, in all my years, I’ve witnessed endless contracts and agreements. Whether it was tangible or verbal— each one was a significant chapter to someone’s life.”

The horned man softly detangled your fingers from his long brown hair and kissed your hand.

“But only one brought forth complete change. Our matrimonial agreement. The contract we signed gave me the most happiness. I’ve never signed a happier contract than this one.”

“And I share the same sentiment.” You cooed, almost cheeky. “And I hope our future child shall feel our love as well.”

He rested his head on your shoulder and sighed.

“The day shall come, my love.” He spoke. “Just wait for me, until I fulfilled what the Heavenly Principles desires.”

“Of course,” you hugged him back. 

“I shall wait for you, my dearest…

“(Y/N)!!!”

You flinched.

Suddenly, you’re not in the mountains. You’re not hiding under the shade of a tree with warm-hued leaves. You were…

You were sitting on a patch of grass, just outside the chasm.

And Jing Yuan is mad.

He had a cold unmerciful glare. His built frame towered above you, casting a large shadow. It was already nighttime. Normally, only the moonlight and the lamps from afar should be the only source of light here, but his golden eyes seemed to glow. As though it was ready to call forth an entity you were not prepared to face.

You know the depths of his anger. Years of living inseparable from him has made every communication almost telepathic and that hadn’t changed. You can read it in his breaths, in his stiff and tall posture, in his unnerving gaze.

He is threatening you to spill. Saying without words that:

There are fates worse than death.

But your pulse was steady. But your breathing was calm. But your expression was blank.

You weren’t terrified.

And you can read that deep down, that scared the General more.

“Nay Jung I…”

For a moment, Jing Yuan’s eyes widened— as though there was something he was the only one privy to knowing. His face had a mix of surprise and disbelief before he steeled himself.

“Nay Jung I?” He scoffed. 

“What of him?” Jing Yuan asked.

“He’s my soulmate.”

As soon as those words left your mouth, brief incoherent syllables sputtered out of his mouth. You evoked more emotions in him this time around. You saw flashes of shock, what seemed to be happiness, hope, and then utter confusion.

“...What?”

“I saw him.” You said, calm. “I saw him as soon as I touched that rock. My soulmate— he had long hair and eyes like a dragon— I think he was a dragon, and so was I. I think my soulmate is in Liyue and he’s hiding behind the name Nay Jung I.”

Jing Yuan opened his mouth, before thinning his lips.

This time, you were certain.

He was not only mad. Jing Yuan was sorely disappointed.

“I understand…” 

You know the expression on his face. You read him like a discipline you mastered in epigraphy. He thinks that… 

You have gone “cuckoo.”

He turned around, no longer facing you.

“I’m sorry then, (Y/n).” 

Jing Yuan does not sound sorry to you.

“What for?”

There was silence for a moment, before he spoke again, voice bitter and vile.

He was not sorry.

He was furious.

He was hurt.

He was jealous.

“Nay Jung I is the leader behind the past terrorist attacks.” He paused. “And I killed him.”

You haven’t recovered ever since.

Every medical “professional” you’ve encountered told you that you were hysterical. That you just hallucinated what you saw. It isn’t possible that the visions you saw were Nay Jung I anyway. 

Maybe they were right about the last part, you don’t want to believe it. 

It was in your instincts. That man had to be your husband in the past. Who cares if you came from another world? Maybe you were an Expy. You had to be. That person— the one who reminded you of a cuckoo bird in those walls— had to be you in another universe. 

It had to be.

Your real soulmate is out there.

And Nay Jung I isn’t dead.

But you’ve never been good at persuading others.

Soyourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveit—

“General Jing Yuan, is (Y/n)…?”

Outside the apartment, Mister Zhongli and Jing Yuan stood by the window, peaking at your form. You were so engrossed by your inner conflicts that you couldn’t hear them.

“They’ll… move on from you, eventually.” Jing Yuan spat back coldly. “I’m not the God of Contracts, but I keep promises that do not fail.”

Zhongli’s face crumpled in anguish.

“May I ask a question? Just to sate a bit of curiosity, of course.”

Jing Yuan’s eyes narrowed. Zhongli took that as a yes.

“Are you Nay Jung I?” He asked. “I did not see his name on the list of the deceased criminals—”

“Yes, he and I are the same,” Jing Yuan silenced him. “Nay Jung I is an anagram of Jing Yuan. You can reorder the letters and confirm it for yourself.”

Originally, Jing Yuan had hoped to woo you with a romantic tale of an anonymous admirer. But, in your delirium, you had mistakenly believed that Nay Jung I was the same man in your visions. 

It was repulsive.

Never before had he wished to scream so loudly. He had not felt this much anger when he discovered the crimes his old friends had done. He had not felt as betrayed as when you claimed love for Nay Jung I, but it was not him.

He wanted to summon the Lightning Lord to destroy Liyue right then and there.

It was a frustration he had never felt before. Not when he was training with Jingliu. Not when he was scolding Yanqing. Not ever.

But Jing Yuan was not an impulsive man.

He prides his patience.

He prefers to scheme quietly rather than flashing bold moves.

Jing Yuan sucked in a breath between his teeth. 

“I suppose it’s my turn to ask.”

He shut the windows and Zhongli’s heart ached as he could no longer see you.

But then he turned to look at Jing Yuan.

And he knew…

Jing Yuan is much older and wiser than he looks.

“Tell me, Rex Lapis,” he spoke sharply. “Did you wed this world’s version of (Y/n) (L/n) and leave her and her child to die?”

…

…

…

That silence was enough.

Jing Yuan’s private investigations behind your back were right.

In the vast “multi-verse”, there is a version of you that married this dragon who descended from his Archon status.

“I... have wrought upon them great suffering. I am unworthy of their affections. Should a day come where (Y/n) enacts the fury of my wife and child on their behalf, it will be justly deserved.”

Zhongli did not further elaborate.

Whatever happened in the past, it still haunted him to this day. Lingering in the back of his mind, dulling his self-confidence and wits. Maybe it’s why Yanfei thought you should investigate the cave. Maybe she wanted the alternate version of ███ ███ to come back.

But she's gone.

Jing Yuan took a step closer.

“Your wife is dead, Rex Lapis. They are my (Y/n), not yours.”

“I-… I know.” Zhongli— no— Morax spoke, voice laced with grief. “I know she and (Y/n) are not the same, however, I…”

Another step.

“If you wish for their happiness, you will continue to not speak to them. You have done enough damage.”

Morax closed his eyes mournfully. “I am well aware of this”

Another step.

“Let me take care of (Y/n). Let me make them happy.”

And another.

Jing Yuan stared deep into Morax’s soul.

In all his years of living, it didn’t occur to Morax that he’d find another familiar cuckoo again.

But it wasn’t his wife.

Jing Yuan took another step.

This man in front of him was pushing and pushing…

“Let this conversation be a verbal contract,” he said. “That I, Jing Yuan, vow to make (Y/n) happy, and that you, Rex Lapis, shall step down as a final way to atone your sins of uxoricide and filicide. Do you accept?”

Like a cuckoo throwing an egg off the nest.

Forgive me, dearest ███ ███.

I am unworthy of you, let alone this alternate incarnation of yourself.

Morax inhaled deeply. He remains in his head, yet he can't escape the present. The more time he spent searching inside himself for solutions over his approximately 6000 years in Teyvat, the more evident it became what the sensible path of action was. With open eyes, Morax welcomed the return of the present. He observed the vivid hues of existence. In the vicinity, he heard Jing Yuan's pet cuckoo bird. But most of all, he felt his age.

Whatever time was appropriate to dream of a family— it had long passed him.

I am but an old man who deserves to fade away quietly.

And he…

Has the same vigor Morax once had.

That obsessed look.

That tight, suffocating hold.

Just like staring at a reflection of himself, centuries passed.

Jing Yuan, too, was a man depraved. Worse, he is a man who lost everything, clinging only to (Y/n) as his only solace in Teyvat.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan took a walk with you, with one arm draping around your shoulder to ward off those he deemed unwanted.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan brags about you with his men in each available opportunity, socially claiming you his.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan glares at someone who got too close when he thought you weren’t looking, pushing suitors away.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan rarely talks about his story and would rather talk about something you had done, making you a large part of himself.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan only cares about you, and not even a sliver for himself.

He would rather not see him destroy himself the way he had done long ago.

And just like that, the General got rid of his greatest rival— Liyue’s archon and your husband from another life.

He is out of the nest.

“I accept.”

May June can now message Jing Yuan

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + thirty

authors note: had some unexpected difficulty with this one. hopefully, the enjoyable parts, are, in fact, enjoyable.

cw/tw: fluff, angst, and drama

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

cast+ masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 11k

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

Solana sighs, watching the water run over her hand and the makeup sponge in the palm of said hand expand with the cascade of water that drenches it. Using her wrist to shut off the water, she starts squeezing the excess.

The distraction of applying her makeup is appreciated as it deprives and prevents her from gawking at her naked husband showering behind her. 

Solana volunteered to shower first, hence her being further along in her routine. With sexual activity off the list due to her pelvic rest restrictions, separate showers have been their go-to for the past week. At least until she’s cleared.

Something that Solana finds herself looking more and more forward to with each day that passes, because whether it be pregnancy hormones or her burning attraction to her husband, the lack of physical intimacy between them is……noticeable.

Clearing her throat, and her mind, she finally answers him. “Yes, Ro. I’m sure.” She’s only said as such at least three times now, but that’s besides the point. “I told you. I want it to be a surprise.”

Roman’s sigh is heard under the sound of running water as he moves the loofah over his shoulders. “It’s a tattoo, Solana. Don’t know how much of a surprise that sort of thing should be.”

He’s not wrong, necessarily. But, he also doesn’t know the full context, and he can’t, because it’s part of the surprise of it all. 

“We stick to the plan, Roman.” Solana uses the towel on the counter to blot dry the sponge, just for good measure, before reaching for her foundation. “You drop me off, go to your therapy session, go to Fetu’s place to get the letters, see Ava, I go see Bayley, and then we meet back up at the house later this evening.”

Simple, sweet, and easy. 

If only her husband felt the same way. 

“I told you I don’t need to go this week.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, you do, Ro. You didn’t go last week.”

Solana can practically feel his gaze on her through the glass doors. “Last week was a shit show, Solana. I wasn’t trying to be anywhere but with you.”

It puts a small smile on her face. Even when he’s being his usual almost harsh self, there’s still a speck of sweetness usually reserved just for her. 

“That’s even more reason to go, baby.” Especially since he made sure she didn’t miss her weekly appointment with Gail, which brings her to her next point. “I think you should go weekly like I do.”

“Weekly?” The perfect combination of horror and surprise in his voice makes her roll her eyes. Her husband can be so dramatic sometimes. “Solana, that shit is already…..uncomfortable enough, and now you want me to do it every week?”

Waiting until she’s done applying her foundation, she explains, glancing at him through the mirror. “It helps you to get to the point where you start opening up more, Roman.”

At least, that’s been Solana’s experience. Satisfied with the coverage, she hears the water shut off and moves to grab her concealer, unwilling to view the sinful sight of her husband’s nude body stepping out the shower before he can towel himself. 

“I don’t even know if she has that availability, Sol.”

And just like that, the focus is no longer on avoidance of temptation nor the blending of concealer. It’s on a single word. Solana turns around, uncaring of his nudity. “S–she?” Roman glances at her, grabbing the towel off the rack. “Your…..your therapist is….a woman?”

Roman secures the towel around his waist with a knot, as she turns back to the mirror, trying to settle herself. “Yeah.” He then asks, looking at her through that same mirror. “Is that a problem?’

“No, no. Of—of course not. I just. I—I didn’t know. That’s…..that’s all.” Solana’s answer is a concoction of stumbled words that make sense but don’t mesh well. Roman moves to stand beside her grabbing for his deodorant when he’s hit with another question. “Is—is she pretty?”

Applying said deodorant, he clarifies, “the therapist?”

“Yeah.”

Roman chuckles, finishing his application to both underarms. “I guess. Wasn’t looking at her like that. She’s not my type.”

He has to bite back a smile at the way Solana’s eyes widen when she looks at him through the mirror. “You—you have a type?”

He knows exactly what's going on now, and he also knows exactly how to handle it.

Fully immersed and dedicated to setting her up for his ‘trap,’ Roman nods. “Of course, I do.”

A part of him feels a modicum of guilt at her worried expression, even if he can tell she’s trying her best to play it up as indifference. “Wh—wh—what’s your type?”

He doesn’t say anything, just slowly moves to stand behind her, uncaring of the droplets of water that stream down his chest from his wet hair. 

“Well…….” Roman maneuvers his hands down to her legs. “I like thick thighs….” His fingers dance up to the meat of her deliciously thick thighs. “Curvy hips…..” His focus never leave her, watching every tiny, shaky breath that leaves her mouth and the way her eyes flutter from his touch. “A nice ass….” Solana’s head tilts back against his chest when he grabs and squeezes her ass cheeks before lifting his hands to her chest. “Big ass, perfect titties that fit perfectly in my hands….” Satisfaction fills him seeing how she sighs with pleasure from him gently squeezing her breast. His mouth drops to her ear, breathing with a sly smile, “and they look even better when she’s riding me.” 

“Roman,” she giggles, a blush filling her cheeks. He's partially taken back by her cheeky play into his game. “Pregnant?”

“Of course.” His hand is splayed protectively across her stomach, lips to her temple. “Mine...”

Their gazes locked through the mirror, she breathes, “yours…”

He lifts his hand, tilting her chin, craning down to capture a slow, sensual kiss. Eventually breaking it, recognizing they have to stop themselves, he reminds, “I only see you, Sol….alright?”

She nods, a soft smile on her pretty face. Content with settling her insecurities, he taps her ass and continues getting ready, acquiescing to her request. “I’ll talk with her about weekly meetings.”

“Thank you.” Her appreciation and the relief in her expression overpowers his discomfort of having to do that feelings shit once a week, but if it’ll make her happy, he’ll deal.

Because that’s all he wants.

Is to make her happy.

“I’ve been thinking….” Roman is in the midst of moisturizing his body when her quiet voice breaks their brief silence. “Remember how you told me to think about, ya know, going back to school?”

He nods. “Yes.”

She hesitates, obviously trying to find the right words. “I think….I think I want to try.” She clarifies, taking a deep breath. “I want…I want to be an RN.” Roman takes a step back, a growing proud look on his face as she continues to explain. “And, I know it probably sounds crazy, because I’m pregnant with twins, and we’re going to be parents, but I just….” she pauses, Roman detecting the emotion building. “He took so much from me. They all did, and I want it back.”

He’s not entirely certain, but he’d take a good guess that the all she’s referring to is her mother, Xavier, and Wes. Roman is unsure what to make of the sudden, potentially temporary shift Solana has made regarding her mother. Once a saint, now grouped with her abusers. It’s not his place, however, to dictate how she feels about that, because her being upset is more than valid.

Regardless of him not wanting to think about if he’d ever even met or be with his wife if she wasn’t “raised” by Xavier, the hell she went through was undeserved.

And, it didn’t need to happen. But, it did, largely because of her mother.

Her mother’s selfishness.

Solana continues to explain, almost rushed and nervous. “I wanna go for a bachelors in nursing. I could go the associates route, which would only take two years instead of four, but a bachelors in nursing is more preferred when it comes to hiring, and—”

“Solana,” he interrupts, moving back by her, gently cupping her face. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll support and help or make happen. That’s it. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Her voice is quiet and unsure. “You really think I can do it?”

“I know you can.” It’s an easy answer that doesn’t call for any thinking. Just a natural, obvious thing. “My only concern would be you stretching yourself too thin.”

“I thought about that,” she confesses. “Having the girls and being in school at the same time will be a lot, but….it’s what I want. I—I have to at least try.”

And, he understands that. Understands why this is important to her. Why she needs to do this. Another thing for herself. Another way to reclaim her life.

“Okay, then you’ll do it.” Curious, he asks, “are you think of starting this upcoming spring?”

She shakes her head, holding onto his waist. “No. That’s too soon. Maybe fall of next year. The girls will be a couple months old versus me being halfway through this pregnancy.” Her eyes light up, lips curving into a smile. “You know they’re due in May, right?” No, he didn’t know. Obviously, her being two months would put her due date in May, but it’s not necessarily something he thought about from this perspective. “That means you all will share a birthday month.”

Fuck.

It will.

Another thing he didn’t think of.

And something he doesn’t know how to feel about.

“That means every year when we celebrate their birthday—”

“Solana—”

“—we’re celebrating yours.”

“I don’t—”

“This isn’t up for debate, Ro.” Her counter effectively silences him, the assertiveness both surprising and sexy as fuck. “This is our family, and we’re going to do it the right way.” She hugs him, pressing herself against his now almost completely dry chest. “Think about it. You’re their daddy. They’ll probably love sharing a birthday month with you.”

Daddy

Roman doesn’t know how to feel or respond to that, to any of it outside of objection. He’s already made his thoughts and feelings about his birthday clear to his wife, and while a part of him dislikes that she’s not exactly respecting his wishes, he knows why, too. And, he can’t fault her.

It’s the same way he works to help her pull away from the grips of her trauma.

“We’ve gotta pick out which room should be their nursery, too.”

Another statement that makes sense but is also something he’s unsure of how to feel about. “Hmm?”

Solana looks up, explaining, “they should probably be in a room close to ours, ya know?” No, he doesn’t know. “And, I want to paint their rooms, but—”

“You can’t be around that shit while pregnant, Solana.” Because that much he knows. Safety. Everything else is…..questionable.

Her expression is a mixture of agreement and disappointment. “I know. Maybe after they’re born, I can do the painting and we can just wait a month or two before we……are you alright?” Solana’s shift in tone as well as her question pull Roman from the distancing he didn’t even realize was happening until she said something.

“Yes.” A bit of an automatic answer, one she clearly sees through.

“Ro….”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “Just have a lot on my mind. That’s all.”

He’s partially expecting her to push, albeit gently, for him to open up and talk with her. She goes for a different, unexpected route, however. “Roman, are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

Asking what she’s referring to is unnecessary. He already knows. “No. I’ll be fine. Ava’s going to be there, too.” Not that he necessarily needs anyone with him, but seeing his cousin might be nice. They haven’t really spoken since their aunt’s funeral. An understandable and necessary space for both to grieve as they so chose.

“I know.” She nods, hands lifting to his shoulders, moving up and down. A soothing gesture. “I just don’t want you to feel alone in this….”

“I’m not,” he reassures, adding almost quietly. "You've made sure of that.”

Because she has. Because as he’s told her before, there’s no way he could have handled all of this without her. No way in hell. Not in a way that was remotely good, or even healthy, at least. 

“Besides.” Roman moves his hands to her hips, thumbs moving against the fabric of her robe. “You have your own things to take care of.” Things is one way to put it, Roman flipping the question onto her. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

Her smile is soft and also reassuring. She shakes her head. “I’ll be fine, too. I’m not really nervous about telling Bayley. It’s…..it’s everyone else.”

And the telling she speaks of would be telling Bayley that they’re not just friends. They’re family. Cousins.

It’s a decision she came to after sitting down and speaking freely with him about how she wants to handle this, ultimately deciding it best to go about it in small doses. Start with Bayley. Then tackle and figure things out from there. He looks down, studying her, “you don’t think they’ll respond well?”

There’s a delayed response. “I don’t know if they’ll accept me.”

And he gets it. Gets her. Knows that feeling all too well.

“They will, Solana,” he comforts. “The way they showed up for your party, how….nice they were to you. I can’t see them not accepting you.” And, it’s the truth, just like it’s the truth that there will be hell to pay if any of those fuckers even try to reject his wife.

Fucking hell. 

—--------

There’s a part of Solana that wishes Roman was there with her. That wants him beside her as she gets her very first set of tattoos, but it’s the mere fact that it’s a set and not one, as he thinks, that is why he can't be there.

Not to mention one of the tattoos, what it is, is a surprise. A surprise just and for him. One she won’t let her anxiety ruin for her.

Especially considering she’s not alone. 

Far from it.

“I should get a tramp stamp while we’re here.”

Mickie’s voice is a welcomed break from some of the growing anxiety stirring within Solana. 

Turning to the woman behind the exclamation, setting her focus and gaze on the other two, Cam and Melina, also helps to settle Solana. It’s been a while since they’ve gathered, since they’ve been around each other, really.

Because life has just been so hectic and chaotic. Great, too. But, a lot of other things sprinkled along the way as well. And while it’s a bit difficult to not be honest with them, even about the pregnancy, Solana is grateful to be surrounded by good friends as well.

“Shut up, Mickie,” Melina dismisses, angling her body more towards Solana as they all wait in the lobby of the tattooist, Roman’s, who will be doing their tattoos today. “So, are you gonna finally tell us what’s been going on with you?”

Cam nods. “We’ve been worried.”

Solana frowns. She knows, and she feels bad for it. “I’m sorry, I know I’ve been MIA. It’s just….” She takes a deep breath. “Roman and I…..we hit a bit of a rough patch, and we’ve been trying to work through it.”

It’s a sort of lie, and a bit of the truth, namely highlighting the argument that occurred before her medical emergency. Lies and secrets that built up into an ugly climax, even if it did end up strengthening them in the long run. Still, it certainly wasn’t enjoyable in the moment.

Melina frowns. “I figured it had something to do with your marriage.”

“Did you try sitting on his face?”

“Mickie!” Cam scolds, rubbing her temples. “Sex does not fix everything.”

Mickie shrugs, defending herself and her typical antics. “It might!”

“Ignore her. We question if she’s been taking her meds as prescribed."

“Optional,” Mickie disregards. Solana makes a mental note to circle back around to that. Medication adherence is critical for the sustainability of their recovery. 

“We’re sorry,” Cam apologizes. Probably both for Mickie and also what she just shared. “Is there….is there anything we can do to help?”

No. Because there really isn’t an “issue” anymore. Sure, Solana and Roman still have things to sort and work through, but it’s nothing they can’t tackle together. “No. We’re gonna….we’re gonna get it together.”

Because they will. 

They’re already in the process of doing so.

“Well, while you guys are doing that, please don’t cut us off. Like I said, we’ve been worried about you,” Melina asks. A fair request.

Cam nods. “She’s right. Even if it’s just like….a text or emoji. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

And Solana appreciates that. So deeply. More than they could ever know.

“I will,” she promises. “And, I was actually hoping if maybe we can see about rescheduling that girls trip?”

Surprised looks all around, Melina being the one to double check, “seriously? Even with….whatever you have going on with Roman?”

There’s a bit of guilt at making them think the situation is more than what it is, that it’s even still going on, really, but for the sake of privacy regarding the pregnancy, it’s a must.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Solana assures, “I’ll talk to him.”

Truth be told, Solana is unsure how said conversation would go. She knows that being pregnant has definitely caused Roman to tighten his grip—and her security—her gaze briefly falling to Bautista who stands by the door, surveying the perimeter. And, she understands it. She just hopes that he can understand why she still wants to do this. Feels a need to almost do it. Because once the girls are here, that’s it. They’ll definitely be limited to their ability to just and do things, so before that availability is greatly minimized, Solana wants to take advantage of this time.

And going on a girls trip with her closest friends seems like the perfect way to do so.

Mickie snorts. “You sure that overprotective man of yours won’t try to tag along?”

Melina rolls her eyes. “Like he wants to be around us.”

“But, he always wants to be around her,” Cam comments with a sly smile. “I could see him making that sacrifice.”

It’s hard for Solana to hold back her smile, a blush forming on her cheeks. “If he did come, he’d probably stay somewhere else.”

Because Solana can definitely see him wanting to tag along. Just not staying under the same roof as herself and her friends.

That seems too much forced socialization for him.

“I’ll just talk to him and see what he says,” she decides. “I really don’t think he’d say no.”

Emphasis on think.

Because again, Roman’s protectiveness since finding out about the pregnancy has definitely been kicked up a few notches. Or more.

“Well, just let us know so I can repack my suitcase,” Mickie bounces from side to side, gasping. “Wait, so we saw the design you made for our tattoos, but what’s the other one you’re getting?” 

The smile on Solana’s face could be seen from the stars. Grabbing her sketchbook from the seat beside her, she starts flipping through, seeking the one she’s excited most about.

“Let me show you...”

—---------

“You’re quiet today.”

“I was quiet last time.”

“Ehh. Debatable.”

Roman’s infamous glare is on the woman who’s lazily shuffling the abnormally large Uno cards. But, before he can follow up with a smartass comment, she hits him with an unexpected question. “What’s your earliest memory?”

The glare deepens. “What?”

Rolling her eyes, she asks again, enunciating each word. “What is your earliest memory?”

“Why is that relevan—”

“Last I checked, mental health is my specialty. I don’t tell you how to do your mafia shit, do I?” A pointed, fair question. He’ll give her that. “Now again—”

“Fine,” Roman relents, more eager to shut her up than anything. Leaning back into the sofa, he takes a minute, having to dig through a ton of shit to recover said memory. “I was young. Maybe 5 or 6. I don’t know, but I’d fallen or tripped or some shit, scraped up my knee, so I’d asked my….my mother to help me up. She said no. My dad just looked at me annoyed and walked off. They both did.”

Lita leans back in her chair as well, pausing the shuffling to ask him, “what do you make of that?”

Roman shrugs, looking away, intentionally not wanting to meet her studying stare. “Make of what?”

“Your earliest memory is that of sadness. Of not being supported and helped by the two people in your life who should have done just that.”

His response is carefully but truthfully worded. “I don’t make anything of it, because that’s just how it’s always been. I’ve always had to take care of myself.”

Because he has. Because as wonderful as Fetu was, she wasn’t always around. That just wasn't physically possible. As much as she could, sure, but there were most definitely plenty of moments where she wasn’t. Where she wasn’t there to help and support him when maybe he needed it, because she couldn’t be everything all the time. 

That’s what his parents should have been for him.

But, they weren't.

“You still feel that way?” Another unexpected question. “Like you have to take care of yourself?”

And here comes one of the many dilemmas with this therapy shit. The point is to share. He doesn’t want to share, more than that, Roman can never show his hand regarding the absolute hold Solana has on him. The depth of his love and devotion to and for her. 

It’s….dangerous, to say the least.

But, she’s also the first and only person to pop in his head at Lita’s latest probe.

Finally, he settles on a very Roman answer. “Comes with the job.”

Her smile is knowing. “Nice deflection.” A pause. “What about your wife?”

Naturally, his shoulders tense up. She’s never asked about Solana before. “What about her?”

Lita makes a face. “What’s that like? The whole arranged marriage thing.”

And just like that, his irritation is mounting. He’s here to work on him. “This shit isn’t about her.”

“Defensive.” Lita’s eyes narrow, but it’s nothing negative. More….assessing. “You’re protective of her.”

Roman finds it easy to justify his said defensiveness without giving the real reason away. “She’s my wife. It’s my job to protect her.”

Lita’s countenance is calm and inquisitive, as she asks most unexpectedly. “And who protected you?”

Silence.

“What?”

She shrugs, laying out the facts. “You protect everyone else. The Bloodline. The Cosa Nostra. Your wife. Yourself as a child. Who protected you?”

Roman can’t deny there’s a bit of a waver in his tone and expression. “I didn’t need to be protected.”

“Yes, you did,” is her calm, leveled counter. “Roman, children need to be protected. It’s the natural hierarchy of things. Young, innocent, and green, you’re not supposed to know how to navigate the world. It’s something we learn over time as we grow, but it’s as we’re growing and learning that we’re supposed to be protected when we can’t do it for ourselves. It’s what gives us that feeling of safety and security and trust, all things we should have from a very young age.” Her voice and expression soften. “You clearly didn’t have that. You didn’t get to have that, which is why you obviously struggle with it so much as an adult.”

There’s a good almost two minutes of silence as Roman is forced to sit on and allow her insight, correct and accurate, to marinate, stirring up an abundance of uncomfortable, unfamiliar emotions. 

“I’m gonna tell you something, but I swear on fucking everything, you repeat this shit to anyone, and I’ll kill you, your husband, and your three kids.” A scarily calm prelude to a confession he’s not sure just why he’s about to make. 

Regardless, he watches a brief flash of fear travel across her face before she replies just as calmly, “you have my word. Not a soul.”

Having her word doesn’t really do much for Roman. People lie on and about that shit all the time, hence him needing to make it clear what she stands to lose should she make the deadly mistake of fucking him over or betraying him. Because as much as she thinks she knows about him, he knows a hell of a lot more about her.

Leverage.

“Solana is pregnant.” A quiet, low admission followed by difficult words and a layer of vulnerability. “And, I don’t…..I don’t know how to feel about that.”

A horrible, awful thing to say aloud, especially considering the huge scare they had not even two weeks ago, but an accurate, truthful thing, nonetheless. Because in the midst of that crisis, yes, Roman was concerned about a grim outcome. Concerned what that would do to his wife, concerned about him potentially contributing in some way to said outcome. Concerned for losses of lives not even yet lived, but it’s out of that crisis, out of that danger zone, that the reality is setting in.

Partially fueled by his wife’s words this morning.

Daddy.

Father.

Parents. 

He doesn’t know shit about any of that, nor does he feel any way in particular about it.

“How do you think you should feel?” Lita asks, head tilted. 

“I don’t fucking know,” he mutters, running his hand down his face, shrugging. “What Solana’s feeling.”

“Do you experience emotions the way she does?”

An easy answer. “Hell no.”

“So not necessarily a fair comparison then, is it?” Rhetorical. And followed up with a sigh. “It’s different for women, sometimes. She’s carrying and will grow the child, thus forming a bond before the baby even arrives. You could even argue that it’ll be a bit easier for her. Regardless, whatever you feel or don’t feel is valid, Roman.”

More silence.

And vulnerability. 

“I can’t be like them,” a quiet, almost heartfelt admission. “I can’t….I can’t be like my parents.” He looks away, knee shaking and foot tapping. “They fucked me up. I can’t….I can’t fuck up my own kids.”

Lita leans forward. “You are not fucked up, Roman. Do you do fucked up things? Sure. Maybe. We all do from time to time, and let’s be honest, it’s not like you were given a fair shot. The deck was already stacked against you before you were even fucking born.” She shakes her head. “Now am I saying you’re perfectly fine and don’t need to work on anything? Hell no. It might take years to help you process the shitstorm that’s been your life, but if you’re willing to put in the work, I’m willing to walk beside you the entire way through.”

He doesn’t say anything, partially overwhelmed by all of this. This therapy shit just might be one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do.

Albeit clearly needed.

“And for what it’s worth, whether you believe me or not, I think you’re gonna make a great dad.” She shrugs again, leaning back in her chair, a small smirk on her face. “Ya know, when you’re not being an asshole.”

The latter comment is appreciated, a break from all of the heaviness of this conversation. Lita clears her throat and goes back to shuffling, asking casually. 

“Now, are we stacking today or not?”

Roman looks at her, aware of the double meaning. Pushing against preference and comfort, recognizing the importance of this, of all of this, he answers.

“Stacking.”

—---------

It’s been some time since Solana has felt this nervous. The apprehension coursing through her is about what and what when she realized she’d accidentally left Fetus’ letter and her sonogram photo in the bathroom back at the house. Ironically enough, an event that transpired and caused her to run out on the woman sitting directly across from her.

Bayley

They’re in her salon, just the two of them, sans Solana’s security who stand by the door and outside the building, surveying and monitoring.

It’s an uncomfortable silence, one that has her tapping her foot against the metal footrest of the salon chair.

And, it’s a silence that Bayley is ultimately the one to break.

“Look, Solana,” she starts off, sighing heavily. “It’s obvious something is going on with you, and I don’t want to push, but you asked to meet me, alone, and here, so I’m really hoping you can give me something.”

And she will. Solana is ready, albeit nervous, to give her more than something.

“I—I was suicidal on my wedding day.” An unexpected, shocking admission that has Bayley’s eyes widening. Solana’s head drops as she revisits that painful day. “I—I was so low. Felt so sad and confused and scared and just….empty, but I still—” Her voice cracks. “I still remember when you asked me how I wanted my makeup, and it was the first time in a long time that anyone asked me what I wanted. Gave me some autonomy in my life. You did that for me, and I will never forget it. I will never, as long as I live, forget what you did for me that day.”

A small act of kindness that truly made a difference.

Maybe even saved her life.

Bayley’s eyes are misting. “Solana….”

Sniffling, Solana grabs her sketchbook and pulls out the letter. “I have…I have been distant. I know. But, it’s not because you did anything. All you’ve ever done is support and love me when I needed it the most, and I’m so grateful. I….” Shaking hands reach over the stack of papers. “I only hope that can continue after you find out the truth.”

Bayley frowns, accepting the papers. “The truth?”

Solana nods and wipes at her eyes. “I found that letter when sorting through my journals. It’s from….from my mother.” At that, Bayley looks almost guilty.

She shakes her head, trying to hand the stack back to her. “Solana, I shouldn’t be reading this then. It’s personal.”

Calmly, Solana objects, placing a hand over Bayley’s. “Please. I….I want you to. No, I—I need you to.”

There’s still indecision, but it’s followed by a reluctant nod as Bayley’s focus shifts to the letter. 

Solana has to look away, has to focus on the beauty of Bayley’s salon. It’s been some time since she was here, but the calm, serene atmosphere hasn’t changed. It’s welcomed and needed to help soothe Solana as she waits for Bayley to learn the truth that Solana herself hasn’t quite fully processed. 

She’s starting to though, trying to gradually put the pieces together. 

Starting with Bayley.

A few minutes pass followed by a breathy, “oh my God….” Solana finally turns her gaze back on the other woman who lifts her head. “You’re….you’re my cousin?”

Solana chuckles. Knowing it is one thing. Hearing Bayley say it, acknowledge it, is something entirely different. 

“Apparently so,” Solana manages to answer with a watery chuckle. “I—”

“Your mom….was Aunt Alma?” It’s less being posed to Solana and more just a general statement bred from shock. “Holy shit, I don’t know how—this is a lot.”

“I know.” No one knows that more than Solana. “And….and I understand if you need time and/or space from me, I just—”

“Solana.” Bayley places the papers down on the counter and moves out of her chair, walking over and gently holding her hands. “Why the hell would I want or even need space from you?” She shakes her head, a genuinely warm, amenable smile on her face. “You’re mi familia, prima.”

That’s what makes her break, that shatters the damn holding up the waterworks. Solana pulls Bayley into a tight hug, both women a mixture of all the feels, tears streaming down their faces.

It’s a sustained hug that only ends as Bayley pulls back to chuckle, stating, “I can’t believe we’re really family.” It’s such a proud, happy exclamation. “We—we have to tell everyone. My dad…..Aunt Paloma.” Her eyes widen ever so slightly, as she also puts two and two together. “Wait, that makes her your—”

“My grandmother,” Solana finishes in a small voice. “I—I want to tell her too, but I—I don’t feel ready.”

“Of course.” Bayley nods, apologizing and offering. “I'm sorry. Whenever you’re ready. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to handle this on your own.”

More appreciation. An abundance. “Thank you, Bayley. I–I want to tell your parents at least, but I’m….I’m nervous.”

Bayley frowns, asking, “why?”

Her head drops, insecurity rising, “I don’t…..I don’t know how they’ll take it. If….if they’ll believe it. Believe me.”

Because as Bayley said, this is a lot to take in. A lot to process. 

A lot to believe.

“Solana, when I tell you that my parents, my family, our family, already loves you, I mean that shit. They love you, and to find out that you’re….that you’re Aunt Alma’s daughter?” Her eyes start watering all over again. “You have no idea how much closure you’re going to give so many people. How happy they’re going to be. I promise you, not only will they believe you, they’re going to love you even more than they already do. I sure as hell know I do.”

Solana’s smile deepens as Bayley wipes at her tears. “How about this? We’re having a get-together at the restaurant this Friday. Come a little early. We can tell them together, yeah?” Solana finds herself nodding, not even really needing to think about it, feeling an immense amount of comfort and appreciation.

And love.

“I—I think I’d like that.” Because having Bayley beside her will truly make a difference and help alleviate some of her anxiety. Will be a tremendous source of support and relief.

“Me too,” Bayley agrees, blotting at her eyes. “Got me crying and shit. You know I hate tears.” The two ladies share a laugh as Bayley gestures to Solana’s clavicle. “New tattoo. New family members. And a new hairstyle? You really are spreading your wings, Solana.”

Truer words have never been spoken.

Bayley clears her throat and takes a step back, moving behind Solana and playfully lifting her hair, asking, “so….” She leans down, hugging her cousin. “What are we doing today, prima?”

—---------------

“I can’t believe she’s gone.”

Roman’s gaze falls over to his cousin as she brings the beer to her lips, eyes focused on the forest before them.

Choosing to have therapy and returning to Fetu’s place to retrieve the trunk with her letters probably shouldn’t have been done on the same day, but it was a decision already made, nonetheless.

Not to mention seeing and speaking to Ava for the first time in a couple weeks is helpful in a way he didn’t expect. Even if it’s mostly just them sitting in silence while sharing a pack of beer.

He’s quiet at first, eventually agreeing. “I know.”

Ava takes another sip before smiling bitterly. “Can you imagine what she’d say if she saw us right now?”

A small smile falls on Roman’s face. “Probably cussing us out for being all soft.”

Ava laughs. “Yup.”

Because that was his aunt. She could be equally brutal as she was supportive. But, it was always with love. She led and lived her life with love.

Her own kind of love.

Ava looks over at Roman, “how you been holding up?”

An honest, fair question he’s not sure he wants to answer, but he does so regardless.

“Well enough.” It also feels like an honest, fair answer, because he truly feels out of that initial haze of guilt and grief that paralyzed him in the immediate days of Fetu’s passing. It still hurts. It’ll always hurt, but having Solana, her support, her love, has truly made a difference. “You?”

Ava’s smile doesn’t meet her eyes as she playfully nudges him. “Well enough.”

Roman shakes his head, looking away again, muttering, “she’d probably be happy we’re not trying to kill each other, at least.”

It’s not missed upon him how Ava doesn’t say anything. Not first, at least.

“Don’t speak too soon.”

Roman’s suspicious gaze falls back on her only to refocus on the sound of a running vehicle, his defenses rising and grip on the beer tightening as an SUV pulls up and into the driveway right behind his own car.

He turns to his cousin, question accusatory. “What the fuck, Ava?”

Roman places the beer down on the steps and stands up, Ava following suit as the truck comes to a stop.

He asks again, just in a different way. “What did you do?”

She lifts her chin, asserting, “we need to make this right.”

He’s understandably confused until he sees the driver and passenger doors open, two familiar faces stepping out.

Roman curses and looks away.

“Uce.” Jimmy’s solemn voice travels as he and Jey make their way towards the steps leading into the house. “We need to talk.”

“Like hell we do,” Roman dismisses. Looking back towards his cousins, his focus is on Jey.

And Jey’s focus is right back on him. 

Ava rolls her eyes. “Roman, you know Fetu wouldn’t want—”

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved,” he snaps, unapologetic. She really shouldn’t have. “This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“Aye,” Jimmy cuts in. “She’s family too, Roman.”

“My issue isn’t with her though,” is his immediate, sharp response. “It’s not even with you.”

“It’s me, right?” Jey finally speak, an edge and irritation to his voice. “Go on and say it. You think I was wrong for defending my pops?”

And Roman, true to Roman, doesn’t hesitate to speak his mind. “I think you’re a fucking idiot for defending someone who was clearly in the wrong.”

“Roman!” Ava scolds, grabbing his arm. “This isn’t the way to go about this.”

“Who the fuck you calling an idiot, Uce?” Jey snaps, Jimmy having to move over to his brother to restrain him. “I’m not gon’ keep letting you fucking talk to me any ole’ kind of way. This shit gon stop today.”

Roman jerks his arm from Ava’s grasp, walking down a step. “And what the fuck are you gon do, huh? You gon’ challenge me again? You know how that turns out every fucking time, Jey.”

“Would you both just calm the hell down?” Jimmy pleads, clearly exasperated. “Ya’ll both are such damn hotheads that you can’t see past your anger.” He shakes his head. “We’re better than this. We’re brothers.”

There’s something about that brothers word that triggers Roman.

Perhaps it’s the digging into his childhood in therapy earlier today or continued grief, but something about Jimmy using that word ticks him off.

Jimmy and Jey are brothers.

Jimmy, Jey, and Solo are brothers. 

Jimmy, Jey, Solo, and the rest of Rikishi’s sons are brothers. 

And that family bond/dynamic is something that can’t be mimicked or duplicated. They've been close, yes. Friends, yes. But brothers? Like them? Sure. But, actual brothers is something Roman has never really experienced since his family was killed that night.

It’s a dynamic he noticed when he lived in the Uso household following the murder of his family. Until he was twelve and Rikishi put him out, forcing him to live on his own.

Where were his brothers then?

And deep down, Roman knows Jimmy and Jey aren’t to blame for their dad’s actions, knows that they were kids too at the time. The same age as him. They were innocent.

But, they’re not kids anymore. They’re grown ass men who should be able to distinguish right from wrong. Something Roman can acknowledge Jimmy is doing. 

He can’t say the same for Jey.

Jey scoffs, shaking his head, anger rising. “Naw. This exactly who he is. Who he always been. He’s always thought he was better than us! That he the best!”

“I am the best!” Roman snaps, unable to keep his own unmanaged emotions from creeping into this intervention turned argument. “That’s all I know! That’s all I’ve ever known! Is to be the best!” A confession coming from a place much deeper than the three before them could probably ever realize. 

Or, maybe not.

Ava’s voice shifts into something softer. “Roman….”

“None of ya’ll could ever fucking understand what that’s like! To have to always be fucking perfect, cause none of you could ever do what I fucking do! What I've been forced to do!”

A surprised, almost sympathetic expression on Jimmy as he tries to step forward. “Roman, we not trying—”

“Man! Listen to him!” Jey’s expression, however, is anything but shocked or sympathetic. It’s just a continuing, growing thing of anger. “Man, you got your head so far up your ass you can’t even see or think straight! You not God, Roman. The world don’t fucking stop and end with you just cause you the Tribal Chief, and you not above our rules and ways.” A scoff followed up with a dangerous inclusion. “And neither is Solana.”

Roman pauses. A shift. “What the hell did you just say?”

Jimmy attempts to intercede. “Jey, that’s enough.”

“Pops was wrong, yes, but Solana was wrong, too, and the fact that you can’t see that is what’s so messed up. That you can’t see why you was wrong is messed up.” Jey continues, the anger simmering into something slightly more manageable. “I love Solana like a sister, but that don’t mean I can’t hold her accountable—”

“Accountable?” Roman interrupts, fist forming at his side. “Your dad tried to hit my wife, and you talking about some fucking accountability?”

“What?” Ava gasps, turning to Jimmy and Jey. “Ya’ll didn’t tell me that! You just said—”

“They said what they wanted you to know,” Roman cuts off, hoping Ava realizes just why she shouldn’t have interjected herself.

Family or no family. 

“Ya’ll, we not getting nowhere.” Jimmy runs his hand over his face. “Can we please just sit down—”

“Why?” Jey scoffs, breaking away. “He don’t want—”

“I don’t have a damn thing to say to him,” Roman does them both a favor, saying what they’re both feeling. “To either of ya’ll.”

Because while a part of him understands what Jimmy is trying to do, the focus should be less on a conversation with the three of them and more on a conversation with his twin who seems completely beyond rationality at this point. 

“Fuck you, Roman!” Jey’s outburst is unsurprising, the traces of the hothead lying dormant revealing itself. He always knew it wasn’t completely settled. He just didn’t know it would return for something like this. “I’m done with all this shit!”

The feeling is fucking mutual. Roman turns to head back into the house, ignoring the call of Ava who fails in her efforts to get him to stay. 

Running her hands through her hair, she turns her focus to the twins, fully prepared to snap on them for not giving her the entire picture when she sees an irate Jey is heading to the car and a defeated Jimmy going to the passenger side.

“.....Fuck him!” Another enraged outburst as Jey slides into the passenger seat. “I hope he get exactly what he deserve!”

The door slamming accompanies the frown on Ava’s face.

Just what is that supposed to mean?

—-----------------

The drive back home is a long, quiet, heavy one. Roman’s grip on the steering wheel is relentless almost the entire time, his knuckles practically white.

He’s pissed at Ava. Pissed at her involvement. Pissed at Jimmy. Pissed at his misdirected focus. And pissed at Jey for all the things but one thing more than the rest.

Solana.

The fact that Jey is using Solana as a scapegoat. That he’s using Solana and the situation with Rikishi as an excuse for what his anger is really about and towards. It’s towards him. Jey is upset with Roman, but he’s using Solana as the face of that anger, and that irks Roman more than anything.

Because he knows damn well Jey’s prideful ass is still upset about what went down at Solana’s party, which could also be another reason he keeps pulling the Solana card. Perhaps there is some anger there towards Solana.

His grip tightens.

That only further incenses him. 

Solana didn’t do anything fucking wrong, and the fact that Jey refuses to acknowledge that shows just how deep this shit goes. 

Reveals that the incident at her party only helped to revive what was never really dead.

Indicates that perhaps this needs to be handled the same way it was handled before. 

Tribal Combat.

Before, it was for the ula fala, and Roman doubts that’s what Jey wants. Not that he could handle it, even if he tried. But, Tribal Combat doesn’t have to be for the mantle. It can be for many other things, including settling scores.

And, it seems there’s certainly a growing score to settle with his cousin.

Finally arriving home, Roman does his best to leave the weight of his day with him outside before he steps foot into the house, because he doesn’t know what kind of day his wife has had, either. Intermittent check up via texts would indicate her day went fine, but he also indicated that his day went fine, which couldn’t be farthest from the truth. Regardless, his pregnant wife doesn’t need anything else put on her, especially not all of his muddy shit.

So a deep breath is taken as he turns the knob and steps foot into his home, immediately hit with a delicious and familiar scent. He can’t name it, but he knows it. One of his favorite dishes prepared by his wife. A welcomed, helpful thing for a heavy soul.

“Baby, is that you?”

Solana’s voice is clearly coming from the kitchen, a small smile on his face. Just the sound of her voice is enough to evoke pleasant emotions.

The hold she has on him truly is dangerous.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he shouts, barely able to take another step when she yells again, voice more urgent.

“Wait!” He does, his smile shifting. “Don’t come in yet! It’s a surprise!” Roman rolls his eyes, more from amusement than irritation. “Close your eyes!”

A small sigh. “Solana, you know I don’t—”

“No arguing!” She cuts him off, the determination making him chuckle. “Close em;!”

Well, this is certainly unexpected but slightly appreciated as it helps to ebb away the stress and tension that’s had him weighed down, literally and metaphorically, for most of the day. 

Solana knows good and well he doesn’t like surprises, but what he hates more is upsetting his wife. So, he obliges. 

“Alright, they’re closed,” he informs.

“You promise?”

Another small smile. “I promise.”

Roman feels slightly bad for keeping his sweet, naive wife out of the loop regarding just how effective his training has been over the many years. Because he absolutely can hear the moment she starts walking from the kitchen, through the living room, to the front door. Partially betrayed by her heels, a little by her sweet perfume that travels with her, but also his excellent senses.

As he is also very aware that she’s facing him, standing right before him, waving her hand in front of his face to ensure his eyes are really shut. But, he won’t spoil that for her.

“Okay.” She takes his hands, starting to gently tug him forward. “Just….just follow me.”

And, he will. Wherever she goes. Always.

The small smile is stapled on his face as she asks along the way if he’s looking or “peeking,” to which his answer is a simple no. But, it’s humorous to him how he can just see the nervous expression on his wife’s pretty face, the way she’s chewing down on her bottom lip, probably unsure of his veracity. 

He helps her a bit as she directs him to sit down, most likely at his seat at the head of their dining room table. Solana moves her hands to cover his eyes, explaining, “okay, you can open but keep your eyes forward and on the table. Don’t look at me.”

That dims his smile a bit. “Solana—” 

Her lips, soft and full, are pressed against his cheek before she shifts, dropping her hands to clearly to stand behind him. “Trust me.”

A difficult yet easy thing to do. One of the many contradictions he finds himself navigating these days. “Alright.”

Her giggle soothes him just a bit more. “Okay, open…..now!”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

And, he does, immediately taken back by the extent of what he sees. He knew she cooked, could tell by the aroma the minute he walked into the door, but he just didn’t know how much she cooked.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. Roman’s eyes jump from dish to dish, the table completely covered with various items.

“I made all your favorites,” Solana explains in the sweetest, most her voice, still behind him. “Chicken Flautas. Sausage and Rice Skillet. Chicken Birria Tacos. Fajitas. Enchiladas. Desserts too, of course. Tres Leches Cake. Sopaipillas.” It seems like the list is endless, Roman’s appreciation growing with each item she lists.

“Sol, you didn’t have to do all this.”

She really didn't. He’s forever appreciative, more than willing to consume the whole damn table if he could, but he’ll always prefer her taking it easy over anything. “You should be re—”

“Baby, I am. But, being on pelvic rest doesn’t mean I can’t do all the things I enjoy. Like cooking. Besides, I wanted to do something nice for you….” It takes a lot of restraint for him to not look at her as she moves her hands to his shoulders and kisses the top of his head. “Plus….it might…it might lessen the blow if you don’t….if you don’t like them.”

Another confused expression. “Them?”

Roman hears the deep breath she takes followed by a shift from behind to beside. Bypassing the previous instructions, Roman finally lands his gaze on his wife after a day of absence.

And what a sight.

“Solana….”

It’s hard for his brain and eyes to work together on what the focus on first. The sexy red dress low cut by the chest, accented with a black bow that accentuates her ample cleavage and something else. But, that’s battled with the difficulty he has in also not focusing on her hair that’s jet black at the roots, fading down into an almost dark red. Still the same length, just a new color combo.

Bloodline colors.

Solana biting on her bottom lip briefly pulls him from his alternating focus. “I know it’s a lot…” Her fingers go to her hair, blood red locks intertwined in her fingers. “I’ve always wanted to dye my hair red, but I didn’t know if all red would look good on me, so Bayley suggested—”

“You look beautiful, Solana,” he cuts in, unable to stop himself from angling his body so that he can pull her between his spread thighs. “You always look beautiful, but this….”

A hopeful, nervous inquiry. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” he breathes, having to work hard to redirect his focus to the other new change. Right by her clavicle on the left side of her body, covered with Saniderm is fresh ink. 

siempRe tú  

All black and lower cased letters with the exception of the ‘R’ that’s uppercase and blood red.

He has an idea, but not the specifics. “Solana….”

Her smile is warm and bashful. “It means ‘always you’ in Spanish.” She angles her head down, hand carefully placed around the perimeter of it. “The ‘R’ is for you. For Roman. That’s why it’s in red.” His gaze darts to hers, locked in, intense, meaningful. “Because it’ll always be you, Ro. Always and forever.”

It’s a lot to take in. He knew she was getting a tattoo, knew that it was on her list of things that she wanted to do, but he was under the impression she was getting a mental health themed tattoo. Hence her and her new friend group going together, as they were all planning to get one.

But this…

“You got a tattoo for me?” 

Loving him is one thing, being with him is one thing, but putting something permanent on her body for him is something entirely different. 

She nods, moving her hand to his face, gently stroking his beard. “I did. And the truth is I wanted your full name, but I don’t know if that would be…safe. If it would give away the truth of our relationship….”

She’s not entirely wrong. But, he himself doesn’t know just how he would feel about that. 

Undeserving.

He ghosts his hand along the edge of the Saniderm, chuckling in disbelief. “It looks amazing.”

Her smile is bright and appreciative. “Thank you.” Solana moves her hands to the bottom of her dress. “I designed them both myself.”

And yet another frown. “Both?”

It’s in her lifting her dress and turning to the side, Roman puts together what Solana was referring to when she said them earlier. 

The new hair.

The new tattoo.

The other new tattoo. 

Because inked on her side is yet another new piece of artwork. The word breathe, except the ‘B’ is actually a butterfly whose body is made up of a semicolon. Once again, Roman’s hand is near her soft skin, Solana explaining, “this is the one we all got together.”

And, he can understand why, Solana having explained to him the symbolism behind a semicolon for people with mental health struggles.

People like herself. 

"It looks amazing, Solana." Because it does, and the fact that she designed both herself just makes it even better.

Her smile is warm and loving. "Thank you." It shifts though, quickly almost, into something slightly solemn. “Ro….” There’s persistent and consistent difficulty in not getting so caught up and consumed in all the things stirring within him at all of these unexpected things, but it’s helped by her continued explanations. “Do you remember….when I was in the hospital and you asked about the butterflies on my wrist? What the other three were?”

“Yeah.” A quiet answer as she moves herself onto his lap, her hands on his chest. 

Her smile shifts once more into something still slightly sad yet proud. “One was for Dulce, and the other two….they were for Lina and Leya.”

Another bombshell that has him speechless, an effect hardly seen, if ever, in the Head of the Table.

“I first started to have the dreams when I was in the hospital, and…..and I didn’t know then that they would actually be coming, of course, but….but just the idea of them….it made a difference.” She swallows, wiping her eyes as a lone tear escapes. “So, I want to get the butterflies as tattoos, but I want you to be there with me for that.”

Roman nods, understanding why she didn’t want him around for this round. Because of the first tattoo, because she clearly wanted it to be a surprise, and a surprise it certainly is. 

"Of course, I'll go with you."

Partially because he too wants to follow her lead.

Wants to get a tattoo for her.

But, he has time to figure that out.

And, he will figure it out.

Solana kisses his cheek, mumbling a 'thank you,' asking once more. “So you really do like them?”

Her nervous question evokes a small sigh as he brings his hand back to her cheek. “I love them.” An honest answer, as he also tips over the edge of comfortably. “I—I don’t know how I feel about the tattoo for me, not because I don’t like it, but because it’s so permanent. You putting me on your body like that….”

“It’s what I wanted,” she reassures. Her voice is firm and unwavering. “I love you, Roman. I’ll always love you.”

But, I don’t deserve it.

Thoughts that float through his head. Thoughts that should be shared, and he will. As uncomfortable as it is, he promised Solana he’d try to be more open with her.

But, not tonight. Not when she’s had a seemingly nice day and has gone above and beyond for him. They can have that. Have tonight. He’ll give her that much. 

She stands up and kisses his forehead. “Come on. The food is getting cold.”

Dinner is shared amongst the two of them, conversation sprinkled throughout a bit of overindulgence on Roman’s part, an extended gym session in his near future but so worth it. 

Always worth it. 

Naturally, he helps her put away what’s left over, not much, and clean up the kitchen before he guides them into the living room. On the sofa, her body leaned back into his, his arm protectively around her, the other lax on the top of the sofa. Dulce sleeps comfortably on the loveseat opposite them, also full and content from her homemade dog friendly dinner. 

“You wanna tell me how your day really went.” Not a question. More an option. A knowing he should not have put past her. She’s learned him too well.

His mate in every sense of the word. Whether he feels deserving of her or not.

Sighing, he kisses the top of her head. “Not really.”

Her fingers dance gently across the top of his hand. “Roman….”

He knows where this is going, can see it a mile away, and while his preference is to put it off for tomorrow, he knows it’s all inevitable. “Ava….Ava arranged a meeting between me and the twins.”

Solana looks up, eyes full of curiosity, “did you know?”

He shakes his head. “No.” Because, if he did, he would have never gone. “It didn’t go well.”

“Ro…”

“Not even Jimmy, as much as Jey. It feels like…..like we’re in our twenties all over again, and he’s trying me. I thought we were past this shit, but clearly not. He thinks I'm in the wrong with the whole Rikishi situation.” And before she can even ask, he answers, unapologetic. “I told him to fuck off.”

She sighs against him. “Roman, it’s….I don’t want that to get between you two.”

“It shouldn’t,” he agrees. “But, it’s also deeper than that one situation. I think Jey’s probably been feeling some sort of way for a while, and this situation along with your party just broke the camel’s back. Regardless, I’m not changing my mind. He’s wrong, and that’s just that.”

“He’s your family, Roman.”

“That doesn’t mean shit, Solana, and you know it.” She of all people should know that. “His loyalty is clearly to his father, and that’s fine, but right is right and wrong is wrong. He’s wrong, and Rikishi was dead wrong, too. Whether they wanna see and/or acknowledge that is on them.”

She doesn’t say anything, continuing to look up at him, eventually asking in a small voice, “so what does that mean for ya’ll?”

His answer is honest. “I don’t know.” 

Because, he doesn’t. This isn’t like when they were still kids, for all intents and purposes. They’re grown men and should be able to handle it as such, but Jey seems incapable of that, consumed and controlled by his emotions. And, Roman doesn’t have time to deal with that shit. Nor a desire to. Jey is going to have to work through his shit before they can even attempt to attack this again. 

Or, as he was thinking earlier, they lay it out in the ring.

Tribal Combat.

Solana, however, doesn't need to know that part. Not yet. If it becomes a sure thing, he'll share it. For now though, it stays with him.

“But, it’s not a priority right now.” Or much of a concern, really. Not compared to everything else he has going on. “You’re my priority.” Navigating this pregnancy is a priority. Not Jey being in his fucking feelings over stupid shit.

“I don’t like this.” Roman can admit, at least to himself, that he doesn’t, either. But, it is what it is. And, he voices as such.

“We just have to see how it plays out.” However and whatever that may be. “How did it go with Bayley?”

The corner of her lip lifts into a half, sad smile. “Are you trying to change the subject?”

Possibly. “Trying to see how my wife’s day was.”

Solana rolls her eyes, thankfully, agreeing to the transition. “It….went good. She….she was happy.” 

“Yeah?”

Nodding, Solana chews on her bottom lip, sharing in a soft voice. “Surprised, of course. But….she didn’t question it. Didn’t seem like she wanted like….proof or something.”

“The proof is in the letter, Sol.”

“I know. I know. I just….I think I was nervous she would….” Solana shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. She’s happy that we’re literally family and even offered to help me tell everyone else.”

Roman nods, happy for his wife. Happy that it went over well, though he had little doubt it would. Regardless of whatever unprocessed feelings still linger towards Bayley, deep down, he truly does trust she loves Solana. As a friend first. Now as family.

“So when is that supposed to happen?” 

“This week.” The answer surprises him a bit. He wasn’t expecting that so soon. Regardless, if it’s what she wants, good for her on going for it. “Which brings me to a question….a favor I need from you.”

“Baby, how many times I gotta tell you doing things for you is never a favor? It’s my job as your husband.”

Solana chews on her bottom lip, angling her body more towards him. “You haven’t heard what it is, yet…” There’s a pause between her initial statement and the rest of it. “Bayley’s family is having a get together at their restaurant this Friday—”

“Okay…..” And it’s when she gives him that look that it dawns on him. “Oh hell no.”

“Baby, please,” she pouts, hand to his chest. “I want you there with me.”

“Around people?” The word people is laced with disgust and irritation. “Solana, you know I hate people.”

“They’re….they’re my family, Roman.” It’s a pointed, poignant counter, one that definitely tugs out a bit of guilt from him. “They’re gonna be the girls’ family. I want you to have a relationship with them as well.” He looks away, slightly comforted by her hand gently moving up and down his chest. “Please?”

The guilt was already pushing him one way, but it’s the ‘please’ that pushes him over the edge. “Okay, I’ll go with you.” Roman scowls, not from the way she moves to climb on his lap, straddling him, kissing his cheek, but from the thought of this forced socialization. “But, I’m not talking to anyone.”

Solana frowns. “Roman…”

“Or, I’m sitting in the car.”

“Roman, you are not sitting in the car,” she protests, informing. “Dwayne and Matteo are gonna be there, too.” 

“What? Why?” They’re not even her family. 

“Because I invited them,” she answers so calmly, fingers playing with his beard. “Bayley also invited Naomi, so I don’t know if Jimmy will be there….”

“There’s food. He’ll be there.” She smiles a little at his deadpanned tone. “I still don’t get why you invited Dwayne and Matteo.”

“Because they’re your family, and you like Dwayne. It’ll give you someone to talk to. Maybe even Matteo too…..”

Roman sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Solana, I know you want me—”

“I just want you to be happy, Roman.” An honest, kind, almost vulnerable thing that makes sense for her. That’s just who she is.

His hand moves in comforting circles on the small of her back. “I am happy, Solana. I have you, and I’ll have them.” His gaze moves to her stomach, briefly darting to her tattoo. “That’s all I need.”

“No, it’s not.” Unexpected disagreement. A testament of her growing assertiveness, something he both appreciates but also dislikes. Dislikes how adept she’s become at reading him. “But, I understand you need time. Just know I’m not giving up on this. I have family and so do you. And we deserve it. To be surrounded by and have people who love and care about us. Because…because that’s who’s going to love and care about the girls, too.”

He’s silent. Sitting on her words. So heavy and true. Accurate, even if they stir up more of those damn emotions.

Finally, he settles on a response that's almost second nature at this point. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” She kisses his cheek, laying her head in the crook of his neck. A few, comfortable minutes of silence pass before anything else is said. “Ro, can I ask you something?”

A sigh and kiss to her temple. “You can ask me anything, Sol. You know this.”

If only he knew what she planned to ask though. “How many kids do we have in your dreams?”

Shit.

It’s an innocent question, really. One that should provide an easy answer but not for the fact he’s thinking about what she shared with him when she was in the hospital. About wanting more kids. 

Several more kids.

Normally, Roman could easily get away with a little white lie. But, it’s the delay in his answer, as well as the gruffness in his voice, that betray him. “Just the girls.”

Solana lifts her head to look at him, a knowing, crafty smile on her pretty face. 

And right away, he knows he’s fucked up.

“It’s the five, isn’t it?”

A last minute effort to sway her. “No, I get a vasectomy after the twins.”

She shakes her head, clearly seeing past his bullshit. “No, you don’t.”

“Solana—”

“It’s Lina and Leya—”

“Sol—”

“A little boy afterwards—”

“We can’t—”

“And then another set of twins, right?” 

Damn. 

The joy on her face is a stark contrast to the horror on his when she proudly announces, “we’re gonna have five kids.”

“Solana, we are not having five kids.” Just saying it aloud makes his head hurt. “You think my blood pressure is high now? Are you trying to kill me?”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re being dramatic, Ro.”

“No, you’re being delusional if you really think I’m gonna give you five children.” Because as much as he loves this girl with everything in him, she’s clearly not thinking straight. “What am I gonna do with all them damn kids, Solana? I’m too old for all that.”

Leave it to her ass, and she’ll have him pushing 60 with a toddler and a college freshman. “And what about Dulce?”

Solana pouts. “What about her?”

“You saw how she was with Jey’s kids.” The mentioning of said children prompts their puppy to lift her head, eyes alert and searching. “See, the damn dog got PTSD just from that one day. Imagine if it was all the time.”

Solana moves her hands to the collar of his shirt, adjusting it as she calmly explains, “our kids won’t be like them. You won’t let them be like them.”

She has a point there. It’ll be a cold day in hell before any of his children exhibit even a fraction of the disobedience that marks Jey’s entire offspring. 

An idea crosses his mind, Roman suggesting, “what if I got you another dog instead?”

But, at that, not only does Dulce lift her head again, she makes a low growling sound. 

Solana bites back a smile. “I don’t think she likes that idea.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like the idea of people thinking we’re fucking Mormons or that I’m breeding you out or some shit.” But, it’s in saying that second part aloud, he finds himself asking, “do you have a breeding kink?’

Because talking about having three more kids when she’s not even three months pregnant with their first set is almost asinine to him.

And his eyes nearly widen when she shrugs and answers in a small voice“I don’t know.” What the actual fuck? “I just want more kids, Roman.”

“We can have one more,” he compromises. Because three is manageable, especially considering they’ll still need a son for him to have an official heir.

Too bad she’s not going for it. “Three.”

“One.”

And Solana’s journey to assertiveness continues as she grabs his face, stating firmly, “three.”

“Solana.” He shifts, carefully lowering her hands from his face. “I love you, but I’m telling you right now, we’re not having five kids, and that’s just that.”

She rolls her pretty eyes, muttering, “we’ll see” and climbs off his lap, walking out of the living room.

“Yeah, we’ll see alright,” he huffs, scoffing and shaking his head. “This girl done lost her damn mind.” Looking over at Dulce who’s been privy to the whole scene, he finds himself asking, “can you believe her?”

Dulce’s response is a bark. Agreement, clearly.

“Thank you,” he responds, rubbing his temples and leaning back into the sofa.

He could sure use a drink or something right about now.

Five kids?

Hell no.

He's always been unable to say no to her, but there's a first time for everything, because over his dead body will he produce five children.

Absolutely fucking not.

Solana suddenly comes up from behind, leaning down and hugging him. “Fine. We won’t have five kids.” Relief fills him as she kisses his cheek. It’s about damn time she comes to her senses. “We’ll have six.”

The sound of her giggling as she runs off is conjoined with his eyes widening as he stands up to go after her because what the fuck?

This girl most definitely has some type of breeding kink.

“Solana!”

[miguelhugger2099]

OMG imagine the one bed trope w miguel. like idk why itd happen, maybe like they’re scoping out an anomaly in another universe and somehow the portal back gets blocked and they gotta stay the night at a hotel, but miguel and reader are stuck in the same bed (she SWEARS she booked two beds but oops! all the rooms are filled up!) and like oh no they need this hotel!! so at first they’re really rigid and like miguel’s all tense, he’s like “i’ll sleep on the floor” but reader is like “no it’s okay we can share! i don’t move a lot in my sleep anyway” (that’s a lie btw.) so then like miguel’s wide awake in the middle of the night, and reader keeps shifting in her sleep, and they end up in a pretty compromising position if ykwim… and then maybe she wakes up and finds miguel like so flustered and starts teasing him a bit and then things heat up ofc… idk just a thought! it’s been so long since i’ve seen the one bed trope tbh. (fem reader btw plssss)

Forced Proximity

i tried with my best with this 🫠 i wanted to try something new instead of regular p in v i hope that's okay 😭 thank u for requesting! if anything, i'd be happy to redo this when my requests open again

Miguel x Reader, Suggestive/Smut, Word Count: 2,271

Just as you and Miguel were about to shoot your webs at the new anomaly, a black bubbly portal opened up and sucked them up into another dimension. “Dammit!” You cursed, groaning at the convenience of an anomaly escaping. Miguel is already beside you, mask eyes squinted in focus as he clicks buttons on his watch. “Where’d he run off to?” You ask him. “No clue. Trying to track him now but the touchpad isn’t responding.” He grunts and furiously taps his screen but it seems to be glitching. He tries to open a portal back to HQ but it only warbles a little bit before shutting close again. “Let me try.” You lift up your watch to try and press the same coordinates when it responds the same way: a little warping but it shuts close. “Lyla,” Miguel calls out and she pops up between you two. “Run an analysis on our watches.” Her small heart glasses fog up with various numbers and letters, codes that only she knows. “Looks like the watches are bugged, Mig. Probably an effect the anomaly had.” “So we’re stranded?” You rip off your mask and place a hand on your hip. “Yup!” She nods. “For how long?” Miguel pinches his nose bridge with his finger and thumb.

“Well, most part-time spiders are off doing other missions in other dimensions and the other half of them have the day off. No one will be available until morning.” “So, we’re staying the night.” You lift your arms up and slap them down. “I’m finding a hotel.” You turn and look around for any around you two. Miguel sighs and faces Lyla. “Is there another way home? Are we safe from the glitching?” Lyla nods, pulling up frames and data for him to look at. “Safe from glitching. Probably just a program issue. Maybe an update issue. Unfortunately, not even Margo is at HQ so your next bet is waiting for a spider to portal you two back.” She explains and glitches out of the air. He tries to find a new solution but comes up short, deciding to just accept it before he grows angry. Miguel hears you calling his name as you run back to where Lyla and him were standing. “Okay, I found a hotel! I talked to this lady up front–luckily the currency is the same as yours–and we got extra lucky,” You huffed with a wide smile on your face. “They’re pretty busy but she managed to get us a room with two beds and two bathrooms. Left her a tip, hope you don’t mind.” You placed your hands on your hips and continued to grin at the frown on his lips.

Miguel rolled his eyes and called for Lyla, her little form glitching back and perching on his shoulder. “Lyla, get back to base. Let the others know we’ve been stranded and call for backup whenever someone’s available.” Her vibrant yellow glare shifts as she moves, her hand coming up in a salute and a police hat glitching on her head. “You got it, boss! Have fun you two!” She giggles and phases out. Miguel passes by you coldly, heading for the hotel where you booked for the night. You yawn behind him, just wanting to rest after a wasted day of failing to catch an anomaly. You walked through the hallways of the hotel, checking down at your key for the number of your room. Once you found it, you slipped the keycard on the lock and opened the door. “Home sweet–” You cut yourself off after peeking into the room and what greeted you was a singular bed. “Wha–?!” You glanced back at the roomkey number and the plate outside, finding the two matching that this was indeed your room for the night. “I swear I asked for two–” “I’ll take the floor.” Miguel grumbles behind you, his entire frame stiff and rigid. You take a look up at him and his face is unamused and staring straight ahead to avoid your eye. “No, it’s–it’s fine,” You chuckle nervously and walk over to the bed. You pat the edge of it and try to convince yourself and Miguel that everything was fine. “There’s so much space. It’s like–what– a king size? We have plenty of room to share!” Miguel doesn’t seem convinced in the slightest, already making a move to grab a pillow. “I don’t even move that much in my sleep! Promise! Pinky promise.” You hold up your pinky to Miguel and he stops to stare at your hand with a deadpan expression. “Fine.” He grunts, placing the pillow back down and not wanting to deal with you any further since he was exhausted.

You, in fact, actually do move a lot in your sleep–Miguel figured out. He really was exhausted and expected himself to pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow but with you next to him, it was like the energy hadn’t left his body. He laid there straight as a pole with the blanket at his chest and staring at the ceiling. You were in dreamland, snoozing and sprawled on the mattress– blissfully unaware of Miguel’s misery by the situation at hand. You shifted around in your sleep, your hand hitting his shoulder or your leg bumping against his ankle. Miguel could handle it. He’s spent many uncomfortable all-nighters so he thought to himself that one more wouldn’t be too damaging for him. It wasn’t until you moved further to his side of the bed that had Miguel’s heart racing. You turned to his side, throwing your leg over his and your arm draped around his neck to bring him closer to you. His arm instinctively went under your body and held your waist while you pressed yourself against him, so as to not make the position uncomfortable for either of you. Miguel’s cheeks burned while you nuzzled to his chest, acting like he was some sort of teddy bear. He hoped his heartbeat wouldn’t wake you from your slumber. Your thighs were close together and any closer you’d start accidentally grinding on him. Miguel looked back up at the ceiling and prayed that you’d move soon.

His prayers were not answered. You woke up after feeling a bit too much heat and it became unbearable to sleep through. You blinked away the sleep groggily, wondering why the pillow you had been on had gotten a little more firm. You lifted your head to see you weren’t on your pillow but basically cuddling up against your boss. You looked down to see your legs intertwined together and turned your head to apologize when you stopped seeing Miguel’s cheeks flush red. His eyes did not meet yours but you felt the pounding of his heart. A smile curled up on your lips, apology wiped off your mind and instead leaning into wanting to taunt him for how shy he’s acting. “Miguel,” You tease with a bit of laughter. “Aw, c’mon. A little accidental cuddle gets you nervous?” Miguel glares at you from the corner of his eye. As you laugh, you continue moving against him. You don’t notice how he takes a sharp inhale when your knee brushes against his crotch as you lift yourself up. Your hands rest on either side of his head. “Did you even sleep? Or did you just stay up all night like some perv?” You snort, having the time of your life seeing your usually sulking boss look so cute with red scattered across his cheeks. Miguel squeezes your waist then uses both his hands to grab you and force you down on his thigh. You gasp in shock, all playfulness leaving your body as your core hits his firm muscle. The action ignites a spark in your chest that sends it straight between your legs, making you whimper, all in a split second.

You snap your head towards him, cheeks already burning and mouth dropped open in shock. Miguel meets it with a cheshire like grin, his own blush on his cheeks but less now that you’re  more flustered than him. “Careful,” He says. “Wouldn’t want to be some sort of perv, huh?” You could’ve sworn his voice dropped down an octave. You stutter, unable to respond back as he rendered you speechless. His thigh flexed and it sent a jolt up your spine with your cunt throbbing which he felt. Maybe it was him being tired, drained from the day that he was acting out of character. Too tired to care about the consequences while his mind clouded and numbed his usual feelings. For now, he enjoyed the way your hands gripped onto his shoulders, cute eyes wide open and feeling the delicious beat of your pussy on his thigh. He rubs your hips on his thigh, his muscle flexing to put some stimulation to your pussy. You squeak and lean forward as the pleasure runs through your body and makes you grow hot. “Miguel…!” You gasp and moan. You automatically grind yourself on him and his grin widens, leaning back to see the show. Miguel feels your wetness seep through the thin fabric of your suit and panties onto his own suit. He phases just a small part of his thigh out his suit to feel just how wet you’ve gotten with a little teasing. “Already?” He murmurs and your cheeks burn brightly. “You like this, huh?” “Fuck…” You huff out, hanging your head to not meet his gaze. Your nails dig into his shoulder as he moves your hips. “C’mon. Show me how much you like this.” You know he was only doing this to get back at you for teasing him, for booking a one bed instead of two and with how his patience had run out from being stranded here, you decided not to test that anger anymore.

So you slowly moved up and down his thigh with a soft whimper, shutting your eyes close while you did so. Your breathing grew heavy, and you shook with every slight movement on his end. Slowly, you picked up speed, the lust flooding your mind and the pace you were going at hadn’t been enough. You humped his thigh faster, still opting out of looking down at him. “Shit…Not enough…” You murmured under your breath, not thinking he’d heard you over the accumulating wet sounds on his skin and shuffling of bed sheets. “Let me help.” You hear him say and feel his hand by the zipper of your suit at the nape of your neck. Weak from your pleasure, you let him tug your suit off your torso. Miguel tapped your thighs as a signal to lift yourself up while he slipped the rest of it off you. You were now bare in front of him, his hands placed back at your hips. You still felt embarrassed, trying to cover up your chest with your arms and hands. Miguel wasn’t having it, growing annoyed at you covering yourself. He cupped the back of your neck and pulled you flushed down on his chest. “Keep going.” He growled. The rumble of his voice went straight to your cunt once more, succumbing to him as you began grinding yourself on him, skin to skin. Your folds smeared your juices on his thighs coating him in your wetness. The swollen nub of your clit rolled deliciously between you and his thigh and you panted softly as you tried chasing you high.

“There you go. That’s it.” Miguel murmured, bucking his thigh to your pussy to the same pace of your humping. He held your hip with one hand to help you and his other hand raked up and down your back, his talons scratching your flesh. “You’re doing so good. Good girl riding my thigh, yeah?” He purred which made you groan and buck your hips faster. “Miguel…” You breathed out. “More, more.” You pleaded. His talons pricked your skin. “Cum on my thigh first and maybe I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

Peter B. met you two once the portal fully opened up in your stranded dimension. He greeted you with a smile, Mayday babbling in her carrier. “Hey! Glad you guys survived the night. Took a minute to get you guys. Sorry about that.” He playfully punched Miguel’s and your shoulder. You beamed at him and held Mayday’s little hand, wiggling it around softly enough to make her giggle. “Hope it wasn’t agonizing.” Peter chuckles to you. You chuckle back and step away from Mayday, giving the two a smile. “Not at all. He’s surprisingly good company.” Miguel doesn’t react behind you. “Oh, yeah? Must be going soft. Big guy isn’t just pleasant for anybody.” Peter says. “Funny how things work out.” You grin and turn around to peck Miguel’s cheek and walk towards the portal. “I’ll see you guys later?” You give a wink and slip into the portal, your body phasing out and leaving the two men behind. Peter gapes at the warping space where you had just left and slowly turns to Miguel to see his friend, very much stiff but his face has a slight tint to it. “Did something happen–” Miguel shoves his face aside and phases his mask over his head to hide his cheeks. “Cállate.” He mutters and enters into the portal towards his dimension.

Peter gets snapped out of his stupor by Mayday babbling and waving her arms around as if cheering Miguel and you on. Peter looks down at her and grabs her little hand in his. “He’s growin’ up, huh?” Mayday squeals.

[bitterbutblue]

Is it bad i can imagine Robin as a hopelessly inlove girl like ofmgsh?? Like knowing how popular she is, she doesn’t have an attraction to anyone, seeing how some of her fans are just obsessed. She doesn’t like any of that.

But when she sees how polite and respectful you are, she’s immediately hooked.

Like you’re taking a liking to new cafe? You'll find that all your orders are on the house, already paid. Needing to vent? Her phone is always available ready for any of your calls or messages with flowers mysteriously on your doorstep the next day. You’re sick? She immediately drops everything to take a drive to your house with medicine and some of your favourite snacks in hand.

Please i love Robin, and i will ramble on and on about her everyday 🥺

~🍷

the way i manifested for robin before my final exams like i sat down with a group of friends and we did a little prayer circle and i hit the ten pull button while on 5050 adn we got robin and i proceeded to absolutely NAIL the exams on that day. she's my favourite for a reason.

⤷ you were just one of the people who worked in the fan meet and greets, setting up the venue and whatnot.

⤷ everyone there was going insaneee about THE robin being there, and you were excited too but upon seeing the way her fans treated her or behaved when seeing her, you couldn't help but feel bad

⤷ poor bby looked so uncomfortable, especially when the men are talking to her and trying to touch her as she walks off the stage. so you quickly took action (knowing it mayyyy cost you your job cause they could file complaints) but you couldn't care less.

⤷ you walk up to the man and aggressively shoulder him, pushing him aside as you approach robin to ask if she's okay with a very gentle smile

⤷ oh she's so gay.

⤷ fell for you hard and fast. literally offered you a job on the spot and you were like wtf

⤷ the entire time you worked as her assistant she clearly was in love with you. remembered your birthday, your favourite drinks depending on your mood, your favourite foods, snacks, everything. Always ordered a drink for you too, and you felt bad but she keeps insisting on treating you

⤷ no assistant of hers has ever been as caring as you!! always looking out for her, and arguing with the higher ups if you feel like they're pushing her too far and that was reallyyy what made her fall in love

⤷ you cared so much about her, not just because she's a celebrity but because she's a person. it's been so long she's forgotten how it feels to actually be cared for and not just looked at

⤷ she confesses to you one day when you snapped at her manager for commenting on her body weight again. you were sick of it- robin had barely gained anything but they wouldn't stop talking to her about losing weight so you snapped.

⤷ the manager demanded to have you fired but robin refused. instead she had sunday fire the manager.

⤷ it was a weird surge of emotions she felt in the moment, having someone actually look out for her. your face was red from anger and your breathing was unsteady, a look of pure irritation in your eyes but the moment you laid your eyes back on her the irritation fades into nothing but worry and she's smitten.

⤷ she asks you out on a date when you were walking her down to her car that'll drive you home and you thought you were dreaming.

⤷ she giggled at how u just stared at her, looking so confused and shocked

⤷ she kissed you on the cheek and your entire face just turned brick red

⤷ the next day, she got you another drink. except this time there was a heart doodled on the side, and a promotion letter next to it- asking you to be her manager.

⤷ the most loving girlfriend SERIOUSLYYYYY she doesn't take SHIT from anyone if they say anything bad about you. okay they can talk shit about her, but YOU? she'll start throwing hands

⤷ now that you're dating she spends even more money on u like christ, you knew she was rich but this is a whole other level.

⤷ rented out your favourite cat cafe for the day so you two could have a date in silence and peace without the stress of the cameras

⤷ wrote an entire album about you and you melted when you listened to it for the first time

⤷ despite how busy she was, she still makes you the most thoughtful handmade gifts. she learned to crochet to make you a beanie for when it gets cold when she realised you didn't have one in possession

⤷ she's your lover girl, forever and always <33

[emotionalmotionsicknessxx]

So you want to see the 1988 Phantom of the Opera proshot at the New York Public Library...

If you know one thing about me on this internet it's that I love when things are spelled out and easy. This weekend my friends and I went to the New York Public Library (NYPL) Theatre on Film and Tape Archive (TOFT) located at Lincoln Center to watch the Phantom of the Opera proshot. I saw some how-tos and asked friends who have already seen it, but it was still a little confusing and I wanted to clarify how my experience went:

Bottom line: if you can make your way to NYC, you too can see the Phantom proshot from 1988 starring Michael Crawford, Sarah Brightman, and Steve Barton and lose your mind :)

Here's how I did it:

I showed up to the New York Public Library Library of the Performing Arts located at Lincoln Center with my two (2) also phanatical friends. We were vibrating. We went when the archive opened at noon. Hours can be found here.

We were directed to the third floor where the archive is. We had to check our bags (but were able to bring whatever in - I brought my phone, a pen, and a notebook for notes)

We met the sweetest librarian who was so helpful - he got us on computers to apply for NYPL library cards AND special collections cards. If you live in NY, you can get a regular NYPL card. If you are from out of town, they will give you a NYPL visitor card (good for 3 months!) We filled out applications you can find here and here if you are curious about the questions asked. Many questions are optional! Note: there was some scuttlebutt about needing to be a student or researcher or even an expert in the field - you don't need to say why you're there unless you want to! I kept it brief: said I was an independent researcher and there for personal interest. They are just happy people are using our libraries! Sign the letter here to stop the mayor from closing our libraries

Once we had our cards (NYPL Card AND a special collections card/number) we were told to head to the archive, where we met a second, lovely librarian who was excited we were there. You can ask for any show that isn't currently running (sorry Hadestown nation). You can find a list of what they have here. All titles available at TOFT begin with the call number NCOV, NCOX, or NCOW. Note: we did not make an appt ahead of time, and luckily no one was watching Phantom but our friend wanted to watch Great Comet and someone already had it. To avoid this, make an appt. To make an appointment, call (212) 870-1642 or email toft@nypl.org.

We signed off to use the archive and were off to the races! That's it! We were put on three monitors and I controlled the pausing and replaying of the tapes. You can replay as much as you want, and can even ask for other plays/musicals that you want to watch during your session there. I took notes in a notebook, I saw other people taking notes on their phone. There are cameras to make sure you aren't doing any recording or photo taking. Note that you can only see this proshot once without special permission, so if you want to come back you'll need to look into what that permission is.

If you're interested in what was actually IN the beautiful, spectacular, amazing, never before been done proshot (it's from May 25, 1988 by the way) listen to my/our podcast, Leroux Less Travelled!

My inbox is open if you have more questions! I hope this clarifies how easy it is if you're ever in NYC!! We will get through phantom-drought together :)

[thecameronchronicles]

Homecoming

TW: sex. Dirty talk. Sex without a condom. Oral sex. Penetrative sex.

SUMMARY: Home from jail, you show JJ just how much you've missed him...

Homecoming

"Princess..." Of all the times the nomenclature is on your behalf, this had been the kost meaningful. Not because it was after the first "I love you" or by some grand declaration. Specifically because he was home.

After two years in prison, JJ Maybank was home. And instead of coming to The Wreck to celebrate with Kie, or fishing with the boys, JJ came straight to you.

Your feet sprinted towards him as he braced to catch you. He buried his smile into your neck as you wrapped yourself around him arms, legs, hands, and heart. Your lips were a frenzy to all available skin until finally meeting his.

"Baby, maybe we should go inside?" He teased before carrying you across the threshold of your house. The door wasn't even closed before you tried to remove his shirt. It was easy to do with the arms already cut off and the sides mutilated until it barely covered him, exposing his skin a few shades more pale from his lack of sun.

"And here I was wanting to talk..." He taunts before being pushed onto the couch. His smirk falls once you straddle him, disposing of your own shirt and leaving your naked breasts no longer supported by your tube top.

"Talk?"

"Two very good points have just been brought to my attention..." He smirks before leading your breast into his hand and up to his mouth. Where you expected him to be hungry for the taste of you, he savors.

"J...please..."

"Sweetheart, I've had to wait a long ass time to get my hands on you, I'm taking my damn time." He kisses you tenderly, rolling your pebbled nipples between his teeth, until finally sucking on the sensitive peaks.

"Ohhhhh...." You drawl in a moan as his hands grip you hard enough to threaten to leave bruises.

"I want you to-" he begins to demand but you can tell by his tone it will be sweet. You want heated, rough, and immediate relief you've been waiting for as even his most dirty words in sultry letters do nothing but fall unsatisfactory compared to him. To make this clear, you're on your knees in front of him as his tender blue eyes widen.

"You don't have to..."

"Do you want me to?"

"I feel like I should say no and be all of morals here..."

"JJ...it's been so long..." You run your hands up his thighs onto the belt holding up his khakis against gravity. He swallows hard before adjusting his hips so you can expose him.

That thick cock you've dreamed of sliding between your legs is now the reason you're biting your bottom lip.

"Tell me, J..." You offer as the chivalry behind his eyes sheds to concentrated lust.

"Put me in your mouth, princess..." You wrap a delicate hand around his thick shaft, running your thumb across his head as he jerks.

"Fuck, I forgot how good you are at this. Maybe you should just get on top of me before I embarrass myself and come-" By the time his rant begins to meet your ears, he's against your tongue. His words melt away and is replaced in groans as his fingers grip at the fabric of the well-used couch.

"Y/N-" He warns as you commit to him as your entire body takes part in the oral sex. Your cheeks hollow and your hands twist around him, both needed for his size, as your chest heaves as you take him.

Despite the way your knees begin to ache along with your jaw, neither falter as you take him deeper and deeper. Tears fall and spit dribbles from the corners of your mouth as you breathe through your nose and endure him.

"Jesus Christ!" He gasps, his ringed fingers tangling in your hair as he works to slow you as his hips fight him to thrust.

"I'm not coming in your mouth, sweetheart. I've been dreaming of your sweet pussy too many nights-"

"Then stop me..." You speak once giving yourself mercy for breath. He takes you up under your arms before you can convince him to let you finish, you are straddling him.

It lasts only a second before you're taken over the arm of the couch. He pulls your shorts down and swears, his fingers snapping the fabric of your panties.

"Shiiiiiit...." He moans before breathing them in.

"JJ!"

"You're so sweet baby...I've fucking missed this." He leaves a playful bite agaisnt your round ass, making you moan to the primal necessity that was your boyfriend.

He slaps the place he marked before you hear him dispose of his pants until they hit the floor. He levels behind you.

"Slow or fast princess?" He asks while gently pulling your hair back over one shoulder and to the other so he can kiss the newly exposed skin.

"Fuck me JJ."

"Then hold on baby, I'm taking what I've been missing." He spits on his cock and spreads your ass to moan at his destination.

"You're so wet...I can imagine how badly you've needed me and I wasn't here....but you were good and sent me all those panties didn't you? You know just what I need princess, so beg for it."

"Please JJ...please fuck me..." You grip the arm of the couch as he pulls your hips closer to him. His warm cock up between your thighs.

"I hope you got a lot of sleep, princess, because you won't after tonight." You gasp at the width of him pushing into you. No matter the preparation, foreplay, or tenderness, it still takes you time to adjust to him. Not only in width but the intimacy behind it. His touch is careful and his words, although dirty, are always with your comfort in mind. But the snap of his hips as he buries himself inside proves ad a reminder of his need for you.

"Oh God!" His head falls back as his toned chest tenses to the feel of him bottoming out inside. He squeezes the flesh of your ass as he watches himself disappear between your thighs, just as he's dreamed since his arrest.

"JJ!"

"That's it, princess, scream my name just like that, beautiful girl. Come on, I know you can be louder than that-" He takes hold of the curve of the couch nearby your head and pounds against you. His depth and speed are precise for your pleasure as he was devoted to learn.

"That's it. That's my fucking girl...ohhh yeah..." The sound of skin-to-skin is raw and passionate, dominant orders interrupt the erotica of it until he begins groaning into your shoulder. With a pull of your hair, you're up against his chest.

"You're gonna come with me." He manages to explain through his slow thrusts. "I'm gonna count...oh fuck..." He is moaning, struggling to compose himself, let alone you. One of his hands plays with your breast as the other lowers to your clit.

"Fuck, you're clenching already, baby. Ahh, I haven't even started counting yet!" He chuckles.

"Better start then." He kisses you quiet before beginning.

"Ten-"

"Ten?"

"You're right...three..." You smirk as the brutality of his focus worsens. You'll be sore and bruised and yet you crave to feel him unleash inside.

"Two...."

"One!"You both cry out together.

His body trembles as he coats between your thighs, twitching within as he spurts until you're full. As you bask in the fulfillment, he withdraws and immediately you ridicule him.

"Stay inside..." You moan.

"I'm taking you in the shower. Then taking you to bed. Our bed. I told you, you aren't getting any sleep, I meant it." He kisses you sweetly before carrying you as he promised.

Once beneath the water, his hands are eager to be a part of you but not necessarily lustful. He's caring, using your favorite body wash to create a lather and generously applying it until you're not much more than suds and awe of him.

"Promise me you won't leave me again, JJ..."

"I promise, princess." He kisses your forehead and pulls you against him and as much as you want to believe his words, you can't help feel in the deepest roots of your intuition that he'll get in trouble again. Still, you'll love and wait for him.

Just like you've done the last three times...

MASTERLIST

[primofate]

10 minute quick writes

(also known as I don't have a lot of time these days but I still have a lot of Genshin thoughts)

Warning: angst, you die

He left for some sort of assignment. A task. Just something quick. Maybe a week or two, not really that long in terms of assignments. You were still lively and had a lot of plans with him when he returned.

But when he returned...You were gone. There was already a gravestone with your name on it. Only your friend was left to explain to him what happened.

"...and it happened so fast, we couldn't even get a letter out to you in time, (his name). I'm sorry. I really am,"

Albedo, Baizhu:

in denial. In so much denial that he doesn't even believe it. You're not dead. You're just waiting for him to REVIVE you, and believe it cause he'll spend the rest of his life looking for that solution.

Bringing you back to life is an obsession now.

"Y/N will wake up in time...You'll see,"

Alhaitham, Diluc, Dainsleif:

doesn't even know what to do.

Has so much anger in himself that he wasn't with you when it all went down. You were here suffering while he was out there on an assignment for someone else. What happened to his promise of always being there when you needed him most? He felt like a joke. A failure.

Everything is meaningless now.

Suffers in silence. As if he wasn't already so closed in before.

Scaramouche, Xiao

seething with rage. not at you. not at himself. but towards your poor friend who is now being held by heir collar.

"Stop fucking around and tell Y/N to come meet me at the usual,"

Your friend tries to explain, but to no avail.

When you don't show up that day and the next, the next and the next...he finally got it.

He wasn't going to see you again.

Gets angry at the world.

Kaveh, Itto, Lyney

Thinks it's a legitimate joke at first.

"Ahaha, good one. No really, I need to talk to Y/N,"

Your friend sees that the conversation is going nowhere so instead opts to lead him to your grave.

Stunned. how could this happen? You were fine. You were well and alive and cheerful when he left and now...he couldn't even see your face. That was it? That's all? Not even a goodybe from you?

"That's not fair, Y/N..." appears to resent you, but in reality just resent the circumstances in which it happens. Feels left behind, and is heartbroken for ages.

Neuvillette, Zhongli, Ayato

"What do you mean?" is his first question. Doesn't quite understand how this could have happened. He made sure you were safe and well when he left. Asks for all the details, the nitty gritty, looking for clues on how this could have went down.

Obsesses over the details of your death for months. Who does he have to punish? Was it avoidable? Was there something he could have done to prevent it? Why? Why when he was away?

Cries behind closed doors, never in public but will visit your grave in an ungodly hour and shed a few tears alone and to whisper:

"Darling, I don't think this pain of missing you will ever go away,"

[aestherin]

seatmates | scaramouche x gn! reader

a random drabble i thought of at school bc of course my mind is floating :D

i was scrolling thru my drafts when i found this i totally did not forget about this i swear </3 also not proofread bc i don't have any braincells left :DD

wc: 589

You have always hated two-person desks.

Especially those that are too narrow you and your seatmate practically have to be squished against each other in order for both of you to fully utilize the desk.

"Fucking move," Scaramouche hissed.

"No, you," you pushed against his arm which had bumped into yours earlier.

He sent death glares your way, all of which you paid no attention to. After almost a year of sitting next to each other, it was second nature to build a system that's immune to the silent and furious side-eyes of an angry cat. How long has it been? Ah.

It all started when you made the grave mistake of being late for the first day of classes. No one else wanted to sit next to the menace that is currently sending daggers your way, and so you ended up sitting on the remaining available spot — the one beside Scaramouche.

The experience wasn't all that bad, though.

Sure, sitting beside him felt like being together with a grumpy old man, but even he had some soft moments. Like when he'd let you peek at his notes when you don't understand what the lecturer was babbling about (this comes with some mockery from him, but you shrug them all off).

Or like that one time you were shivering from the AC and he let you borrow his hoodie (this came with him uttering lighthearted remarks about how you should always be prepared because what if he wasn't there to lend his hoodie? Just what are you going to do without him?)

You returned it immediately after getting it washed but he told you to keep it. It's now your favorite hoodie.

Sitting next to Scaramouche was a give-and-take situation. He would begrudgingly lend you a hand, and you would do the same. He used to disturb you from whatever you were doing just to borrow your correction tape so many times that at one point, you just laid it out on your desk, free for him to use. Luckily, he got the message and just started using it whenever he needed to. Was it just your imagination or did he really start needing the correction tape less when you just laid the thing out on the desk?

He also once left his earphones at home and kept bugging you to let him listen to whatever was playing through yours because he swears even your trashy music taste is much more bearable than listening to whatever your classmates were chattering about.

That's what he said but he now listens religiously to the playlist you've been playing on repeat.

As an attempt to get back at you for what you did earlier, he bumped his arm against yours — which was writing notes, at the moment.

Across the organized scribbling of letters and words on a page of your notebook was now a long, thick line of black ballpoint pen ink. You gasped, mouth ajar at the painful sight of a mess.

"Dude! What the fuck?" You sharply turned your head towards him, only to find that he'd already looked away from you.

"Scara, you bit—"

He only sighed.

Your attention was swayed by him slowly and gently intertwining both of your hands above the desk.

"Don't worry about it. I'll rewrite your notes for you later."

He finally gazed back at you. Blood rushed up your face as he used his hand to guide yours to his lips, pressing a light kiss.

"At least after we eat out for dinner."

[deconstructthesoup]

I think the reason that Dimension 20 really scratches all those itches in my brain is that it really shows what you can do with D&D---and TTRPGs as a whole.

Fantasy High, by itself, is an incredibly compelling concept. What would D&D look like in a semi-modern setting? What would a high school that's all about teaching teens how to be adventurers look like? And the way it's done is beyond inventive, especially if you look at all the encounters in the first season---we've got a literal food fight, a high-speed road chase with tiefling greasers, a nightclub brawl with zombies, vampires, and werewolves, a skating match with a bunch of dwarven middle schoolers and a concrete golem, a high-stakes game of football (ish) with undead jocks that give off major teen slasher vibes, a fight done in an arcade where characters can get trapped in the consoles, and the final battle is done at prom. PROM! How cool is that?

And then we get to the Unsleeping City, which takes the urban fantasy elements that Fantasy High already had and elevates it. The way the D&D lore and magic is interpreted in a modern New York setting is excellent, as is the whole take on the "American Dream," magic literally coming from dreams, ideas, and the imagination. I know that I need to actually finish the UC saga, but from what I've seen and experienced, it is truly fantastic.

And the same energy carries through to the other seasons---my personal favorite outside of Fantasy High being A Court of Fey and Flowers, just because I'm a sucker for any Fey Realm content and I've been raised on Jane Austen---where the genre mashups shine through in the best way possible. I'll admit, I haven't seen A Crown of Candy, purely because I know how heartbreaking and devastating it is and I don't think I can physically handle it, but the concept of Candyland Game of Thrones is so beautifully bizarre that I totally get why people love it so much. Escape from the Bloodkeep hitting that workplace comedy vibe that we love to see in villains. Misfits & Magic being a love letter to the "magical boarding school" genre while also calling out all the weird contradictions inherent in it. A Starstruck Odyssey literally being an homage to Brennan's mom and exactly the kind of madcap and unhinged energy I need from my sci-fi. Neverafter perfectly encapsulating the true horror of fairy tales. Mentopolis hitting my noir-loving heart and personifying hyperfixation in the best way possible.

I'm not even kidding when I say that, if it weren't for Dimension 20... I probably wouldn't have even started my own campaign. I'd had snippets and ideas ever since officially getting into D&D and joining a game with some old friends (and getting back in touch with them in the process), but after I saw the Mentopolis trailer, I realized just how much variety TTRGPs had to offer. I could do a time-blending, history-meets-future campaign. I could go out-of-the-box. I could have endless amounts of options available to my friends and still tell the story that I wanted to tell. And when I sat down and watched Fantasy High---and when I got that Dropout subscription so I could consume whatever I wanted---it felt like the show was actually giving me advice. It's fantastic.

Also it helps that the episodes are usually only roughly a couple hours instead of being, like, an entire afternoon long. And that each season is 20 episodes, tops. No offense to Critical Role, but the sheer amount of content literally makes it impossible for me to get into it.

[rachetmath]

Family

Ruby: F*** you!

Raven: F*** you!

Yang: F*** you!!

Raven: F*** you!!

Qrow: F*** you!!!

Jaune: Why are they screaming at each other?

Nora: I don’t know. Probably, because Raven abandoned them and is the worst mother ever.

Jaune: Isn’t that your mom then?

Nora: F*** you.

Jaune: Yep. Anyways… Yo!

RYBB: WHAT?!!!

Jaune: Can’t you all talk about this? You know like a family.

RYBB: f-

Jaune: Try me. Try me and see what happens. Understand, you all can be or are on my shit list. I already have my issues with my family. I already talked to Winter about hers. I will humble all of you. 

Raven: Look kid this has-

Jaune: It’s crazy how you know about family but abandoned your kin for a bunch of strangers.

Raven: … 

Jaune: It’s crazy how you’re your daughter's biggest stalker but just like one you can barely have a conversation with her.  And attempt to take her life the moment your views differ from one another.

Raven: … 

Jaune: It’s crazy how you risked your tribe, only to give the relic to your daughter, probably the only present you’ll ever give her out the years of her life. And what’s insane is you did all that because you didn’t want to deal with Salem even though she held your tribe hostage. Speaking of your tribe where are they now?

Raven: *silent*

Jaune: Sit you no leadership, die-hard shogun ass down.

Raven: *sit down*

Qrow: Well damn kid-

Jaune: Bitch I’m older than you now but even before that I was more man than you.

Qrow: Now hold-

Jaune: I will admit you showed up when Tyrian came. However, you want to know why I was pissed and made those assumptions?

Qrow: I mean I saved Ruby and your lives.

Jaune: Yeah. You were watching us from a distance. Good. But you were late. Which means when you were late we encountered Grimm. Now what could cause that?

Qrow: Um…

Jaune: You were drunk.

Qrow: Well-

Jaune: Back to the journey to Mistral and after you could have been more useful in almost every event.

Qrow: Woah kid I was-

Jaune: Dude when you couldn’t find any hunters, you didn’t even bother trying to help any of us improve. When we were trapped in a room with Salem's allies and your sister, your first thought was to stand around, do nothing, and find out.

Qrow: Okay b-

Jaune: Raven kicked your ass. Hazel punched your back out. And the only one you were protecting was Oscar. What happened to Ruby and Yang being your nieces? Speaking of Oscar didn’t you punch him in the face and never apologize for it?

Qrow: That was for Ozpin.

Jaune: In Oscar’s body, don't try to defend this. Suppose a huntsman saw that, would you not be arrested?

Qrow: Okay now that I think about it-

Jaune: Oh, and when Oscar went missing what the f*** were you doing? Getting drunk, again.

Qrow: I was having a hard time.

Jaune: Screw you.

Qrow: Well at least I didn’t endanger my friends.

Jaune: At least I didn’t get one of my friends killed. Like with Clover. Which I will say, great job in letting Tyrian escape. It’s crazy how even sober you are still an idiot. Also, you’re a fraud. Qrow: Well I-

Jaune: Like now there is no comparing us, I’ve been through more shit than you will ever imagine. And I wasn’t given a choice. You were. And that’s misfortunate. Your nieces almost died a couple of times and you weren’t there to help them. I was. God I’m starting to realize why your team is a mess and why, Tai, hates you. You are both a downer and a deadbeat. Pick a struggle.

Qrow: *silent and sits with Raven*

Jaune: *stares at Ruby and Yang*

Yang and Ruby: *sat down immediately*

Jaune: So what are you all going to do?

RYBB: Talk like a family.

Jaune: Good. Now you excuse me I need to write a letter to my mother who I am not on the best of terms, right now. Bye.

Nora: Jaune? Jaune, is there something you want to talk about? I’m openly available.

Jaune: F*** you too, Nora.

Qrow: How long was he on that island?

Ruby: Uncle Qrow, we had our first argument on that island.

Qrow: Oh… s***.