#i have the bones of it ready but i also have a couple requests on the go

[fushiguro-megloomy]

OMFG. I LOVE STRAWBERRY WINE SM…ONE OF THE BEST HISTORIES WITH VIKTOR >o< !

STOP THANK YOU <33333 I APPRECIATE IT SO MUCH!!!! ;-;

[mystics7up]

Slashers! First meeting their S/O

Slashers! x gn!reader

Includes Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair

Requested? Yes

Warnings: beefy murder boyfriends, fluffy shit, pre-relationship stuff, love at first sight, mentions of murder/gore/malicious intentions, violence

Michael Myers

It was Halloween night, dark eyes through holes in a white, cast of a mask staring through the second story window of an old, decrepit house

A young boy skipping by as in a blue, capped superhero, an older couple strolling on the opposite street, arm in arm minding their own in the breezy night

Eyes cast downward as the sharp ring of a doorbell shot through the old bones of the house, glint of a butchers knife tight in the grasp of the man know silently making his way through the upper hall

“Are we even supposed to be going in here?”

“Who cares, it’s tradition to check out the Myers mansion, relax”

“I don’t know, this feels wrong..”

Listening to what seemed to be two young adult, the shrill voice of one of them almost instantly striking the silent man with a headache

Michael watched from the shadows as the pair came into view, the louder of the two wearing her hair in tight pigtails, a cheerleader outfit splattered with what was obviously fake blood, a bad attempt at a murder victim

Ready to lumber from the darkness and strike down on the intruders, the man was struck to the spot he stood as you came into view, wearing another poorly, and clearly last minute, thrown on pirate costume

You were what he imagined when the perfect kill was dreamt, your face burned into his as your pictured screams of fear and pain died as did your fighting spirit, the knife once again tightened in his grip, knuckles turning a pale white, veins pulsing beneath taut skin

He wanted, no, needed to kill you

Even the thought alone send a bold chill of excitement through the otherwise lifeless body of his

“You know what would be so funny-“

The girl in pigtails spoke as she flipped around the corner, the voice shrinking in her throat quickly morphing in a scream of terror as she bumped into the large, awaiting body of the infamous Michael Myers

Although her scream was also short lived as a rough hand was immediately around her throat, lifting her from her feet and slamming her back into the adjacent wall breath knocked from her body at the impact

His other hand rose, moonlight catching the long, silver blade as it was plunged deep into her stomach, twisting, turning as her throat gave up on its scream, another shriek caused the killers head to twist like an owl

There you stood, frozen in place with hands partly covering your mouth, eyes wide, not shaking, not running, just watching as the man before you brutalized your friend

But as your eyes caught each others in the dimly lit hallway, Michaels grasp on the now corpse released, body hitting the floor with a dull thud he didnt bother to pull the knife from its placed nestled between dead flesh, not even glancing down at it

Your hands slowly fell from your face, still not shaking, but clearly stressed with sweat as you wiped your hands on the fabric covering your thighs

“I’m, sorry for breaking in”

Your voice was soft, careful but not disingenuous, Michael didn’t know how to react, unable to look away or even move

His head tilted to the left, mask bunching at the bottom, he turned on his heel and made his exit through the rickety wooden door leading to the backyard, leaving the body, knife, and you alone in the corridor

As his walk through the brisk night air flooded under the neck of his mask, the killer could feel his normally emotionless face scrunch with confusion

If hearing you scream in fear wasn’t what he thought he wanted from you, then what did he want from you?

He would have to investigate this sudden curiosity closely

Jason Voorhees

Jason was tirelessly indulging the day by sitting on the end of his cabins patio, watching the slow turn of various wild animals go by

There weren’t any campers to keep him busy, nor screams and boisterous laughter of teens trying to get their rocks off on the property, just the hum of June bugs and trees swaying beneath the gentle breeze of warm weather

That was until a shrill yelp drilled into Jason’s eardrums, bothered by the distraction from his day of calm, the man stood with shoulders squared, grabbing the awaiting machete perched against one of the patios wooden posts

Marching through the dense woods, his boots crushed leaves as he made he way to the noise from minutes earlier, hoping whoever it was was far gone

“Oh my god”

Of course they weren’t though, of course whoever this was decided to stupidly wander onto private property, clearly posted in writing on multiple trees and wire fences

Although Jason hesitated when he heard something he’d never had the pleasure of catching

“You poor thing, here I am breaking the law because of you”

Peeking from behind the thick trunk of a large oak, Jason was surprised to see a stranger kneeling in the dirt, fingers and palms cut up with minor wounds as they attempted to unwind a helpless rabbit that seemed to have gotten itself rolled in loose barbed wire

Not minding to worry about yourself, you winced as another barb caught your finger, slicing the thin flesh there as the rabbit was freed, trotting away without a care in the world

“Okay, now which way did I come in from?”

You wondered aloud, turning on your heel to go back the direction you think you came from, hoping in get back on the hiking trail you’d left behind

Jason merely watched with confusion, no malice or really any thought behind his eyes other than the urge to, protect you, from what he wasn’t sure

But he knew for certain, you weren’t someone he’d be able to forget

Thomas Hewitt

Let’s get one thing straight, Thomas doesn’t enjoy killing, him and his family was forced into it by Hoyt and his insatiable urge to feed and “care” for everyone

Most victims were easy to kill, treating him like a monster, screaming in his face curses and insults as they went out

Others he had a harder time with, the ones that just cry, plead with him for their life, promise they won’t tell the police if he lets them go

That being said, he’s never failed to kill, not once since he’s begun

That is until one summer day, when a knock at the door caught Luda Mae by surprise, wiping her wet hands on a dish towel and headed to the front door

Eyes narrowed, the older woman opened the door to reveal a young adult, you, standing there with a shy smile gracing your features, you held a pair of car keys in one hand, the other free to reach up and rub nervously at the back of your neck

“I’m sorry to bother you and, whoever else is home, but my car broke down a mile out, and I’m unable to reach anyone on my cell”

Luda Maes confusion turned to soft pity, a reserved grin taking over her lips as she moved to the left, a hand beckoning you in

“Well dear, there’s a phone in the kitchen, if you’d like I can call the towns auto shop while you wait in the living room”

Although still shaken from being practically dropped in the middle of nowhere Texas, you made your way graciously inside, thanking the woman with kind praise as you did so

Taking a seat on one of the two sofas available, your ankles crossed as you stared down at one of the keychains dangling from your car keys

You could hear the woman in the kitchen shuffling around, although you weren’t sure if you could hear anyone speaking to anyone on the phone

Curious, you slowly stood, palms sweaty as you now took a few steps from the living room, now able to hear Luda Mae speaking on the low to someone, then the sound of a corded phone clicking into its place on the wall

Heart slowing as you realized you were just being paranoid, you quickly turned on your heel to find your way back to the couch, although your trip was cut short by your feet crossing over one another, about to fall on your face when a two large hands steadied your shoulder

Gazing up, your breath caught in your throat at the absolute behemoth of a man now standing before you, a leather mask covering the bottom half of his face, thick brows furrowing as you simply continued to stare with wonder up at him

“Thank you”

Was all you could manage, voice catching as you realized your body was practically pressed up against his

“There you are dear, oh look I see you’ve met my youngest boy Tommy”

Luda Mae spoke as she entered the room, knowing look on her face as she coyly added fuel to the current fire

Pulling yourself up right and out of Thomas’ grasp, your hot face was focused on the older woman in hopes the man wouldn’t notice your sudden fluster

“Unfortunately our only truck is out with my other son, so I was thinking my boy here could be so kind as to walk you to the auto shop, you’ll be safe with him, promise”

You didn’t notice the way Thomas’ eyes followed you, too focused on thinking about being alone with a man as attractive as the one quietly standing beside you

“You’re not worried are you?”

Luda seemed to test you, but it went right over your head as you shook your head no

“He seems very reliable”

You smiled up at Thomas, unable to catch the skip in his chest as you did so

Luda Mae could only grin at the sight, ready to call up Hoyt and tell him to leave this stranger alone, as she could see a future blooming before her eyes

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent wasn’t one to leave his studio unless absolutely necessary, and even in those cases he didn’t, it wasn’t pleasant for the man

Until Bo brought home a guest, someone shaking and blindfolded as he manhandled the poor soul, although the stranger wasn’t screaming nor fighting, it was as if they’d completely given up, or knew it wouldn’t help

Vincent watched silently as his brother forced you to the ground, your knees surely hurting as they made contact with the hard, concrete floor

“Do you know what happens to people that wander where they don’t belong?”

Bo questioned menacingly, although he had a playful glint in his eye Vincent had never seen before

Silently creeping up behind his twin, the long haired man narrowed his eyes as he scanned what he could see in the dim, candle lit room of your face

The obvious old, dried tears that had found their way down your cheeks were still shining, creating lines over your soft skin

You looked to be carved of marble, painted with delicate strokes and framed with care, you were a work of art, and he hadn’t even seen your eyes yet

Placing a deft hand on Bo’s shoulder, the two exchanged looks, the shorter haired twin groaning in annoyance, although that look from before was still in his eye

Right as he was turning to take his leave, he leaned closer to Vincent, whispering to him as he passed

“I took one glance and knew you’d like them, guess I was right”

Then he was gone, foot steps disappearing as he left up the basement stairway

Vincent cautiously walked closer to you, noticing how you flinched back a bit when he made a move to pull your blindfold up, doing it slowly as to not startle you

Your watery eyes fell on his masked face, brows furrowing slightly as you glanced around the room

Vincent’s mouth soured at the idea that you were looking for Bo, of course you would be, what new comer in town wasn’t, until

“Is that man from before gone?”

You’d whispered, and if your sweet voice didn’t send Vincent into a flutter of strange emotions, your next words at the nod of, “yes”, Vincent gave you did

“Good, he scares me”

He merely nodded, unsure of how to act

“Is he going to come back?”

Vincent shrugged

Your shifted so you were sitting, wincing at the ache in your legs, eyes nervous but no longer afraid, you looked to the silent man before you

“Will you, stay here if he comes back?”

Vincent had never been so quick to nod a, “yes”

Sorry I’ve been gone for so long, but I’m back now! I’m working on what is currently in my requests but feel free to send in more!

^ me returning after being inactive for 6 months

[cyripticchronicler]

Hiii I have a request for Matt Murdock I was thinking him with an reader who’s job has gotten more stressful and it starts to get to them they get dizzy and lightheaded but brush it off until it happens around Matt and he can sense that it happened and he gets all protective and caring

Preferably fem reader but gn is also totally fine so everyone can enjoy it !

If this isn’t your cup of tea I totally get that !

In His Arms

Thank you for requesting, sweetie. I kind of went off track a little and I'm sorry :( (If you want me to rewrite it I happily will!) But either way, I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Overwhelmed by your growing workload and the pressure to prove yourself, you keep your struggles hidden—even from Matt. When the stress leads to a breakdown, he pulls you back, reminding you that love means sharing the load.

TW: Panic attack, mentions of anxiety, pet names (I can't help it), swearing

Masterlist

Stress was a familiar feeling to you. Its sharp claws seemed always to be gripping onto you tightly. You’ve learnt how to manage the lack of air in your lungs and the painful squeezing of your heart whenever you go through a rough patch. 

That’s why the feeling of anxiety creeping up your spine was carelessly ignored. You regret that you shrugged the feeling away, too focused on your work. It’s much easier to calm your bones' nervous trembles before it worsens. 

But now it’s too late. 

You’ve been so distracted by your work. Your colleague had just gone on maternity leave after giving birth to twins. You weren’t sure what would happen to her workload, but you certainly didn’t think it would all be passed down to you. 

Now all your brain can seem to focus on is the deadlines coming closer by the minute. They flash in your mind each time you consider taking a break. You never take a break - this is your one chance to prove to your boss that you’re ready to take on more responsibility. The rumours floating around the office of potential promotions, motivating your hard work ethic. 

You’ve always been a hard worker; had always been distracted by what you consider important rather than what was essential- like eating, or sleeping. Each time you got away with it. You didn’t have anyone to look after you. 

Until Matt came along. 

He’s such an attentive man and would be even without his heightened senses. You knew he’d be worried about your desperation to complete your work, completely gone to the rest of the world as your stomach grumbled louder and your under eyes got darker. 

He’s a natural worrier. That’s what compelled you to keep your stress a secret. It’s hard lying to a human lie detector,  so you’ve taken to avoiding instead. It’s easy to avoid him when you’re so busy, anyway. A couple of messages per day seems to keep him subdued for now and you’re glad; it’s all the attention you could offer.

Your lip is pulled between your teeth, chewing hard enough to draw the taste of metallic blood. None of the words before you make sense through your blurry eyesight. As you attempt to read the same sentence for the third time, you angrily rip off your glasses and groan. 

Black spots take over your vision as you rub at your eyes aggressively, hoping the sickeningly dizzy feeling that’s making your throat feel tight will go away. It’s useless, yet you only allow yourself a second break before gulping down some water and returning to work. 

Your phone rings as soon as your fingertips touch the keys of your laptop and a curse slips out of your mouth before you can stop it. You hate yourself for the spark of annoyance that has your blood boiling when you read Matt’s name on your phone. 

He’d already left three messages from before. As well as a voice message that you hadn’t yet listened to; you were practically forced to answer the phone so as not to draw concern. You’re determined not to burden him with your issues - he’s a vigilante for God’s sake, he doesn’t need your petty problems on top of his own. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.” His deep voice crackles through your phone speaker. Instantly, your shoulders relax and your eyes flutter shut. He’s the bright sun during cold days, the flowers during winter; beautiful and everything you long to see.

“Hey, Matt.” You respond lazily, mustering up enough energy to open your eyes and read the words on your laptop screen. You use one hand to type while the other holds your phone to your ear. You can hear his smile in his voice. “I’ve barely talked to you all day. I thought you were coming to mine for dinner. Did you get my voicemail?”

Guilt nags at your stomach. “I’m so sorry, Matt,” the little sigh you can hear through the other line has your heart splintering, “I’ve just been so busy with staying on top of my work as well as Mara’s-”

“It’s okay. I know how busy you’ve been. I could come by with dinner. I can do some work while you do yours.” You hate to diminish the hope in his voice, but you know he'd be worried about your obvious stress as it shines through in your old clothing and unbrushed hair (not that he’d be able to see but feel). 

“Can we do a raincheck?” You whisper, guilt nagging at your stomach. His voice is so sweet. So understanding. It makes you want to cry. “Of course, baby. Try to eat, please. And take breaks. I’ll call you tomorrow; maybe we can go out for lunch.”

“Maybe,” If I’ve got enough work done, “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You drop your phone on your lap as soon as the call ends. For once, you’re thankful for the large amounts of work, as it distracts you from the guilt that claws and tugs at your skin. 

⚝⚝⚝

The second time Matt calls, you’re nose-deep in paperwork that was slammed down on your desk. ‘More of Mara’s work,’ your boss said before leaving you with the rasing anxiety in your chest. Thoughts of taking your lunch break didn’t even assimilate in the blurry haze of your mind. 

Only the shrill ring of your phone brought you out of your bubble of work. Sighing, you don’t bother to check the name before picking it up, as you already know who it is. “Hey, Matt.” Your hand still scribbles words on the paper, phone pressed awkwardly against your ear by your shoulder.

“Hey. I called to see if you wanted lunch, but you sound busy.” Unlike last time, his voice doesn’t soothe your racing heart. If anything he makes it worse. “I’m so sorry,” you hope he can hear the sincerity in your voice, “I miss you. As soon as the crazy amount of work has subsided, I’ll call you.”

“Is there any way I can help?” You can’t help but smile at his caring nature, wanting nothing more than to be with him. But you know if you went to lunch you’d be too focused on work to be good company. “Remember that I love you?”

His laugh makes your heart melt, anxiety melting away with it. “Of course. As long as you remember that I love you. I won’t call so I don’t distract you from your work, but please take care of yourself. I love you so much, honey.”

“I love you too.” You hang up the phone and instead of returning to work immediately, you just sit there in silence, staring at the piles of paperwork in front of you. The sting of unshed tears joined by a nervous feeling in your stomach is enough to make you want to throw up. You’re so tired. 

You should have listened to your body. You should have gone out for lunch and taken a break. But instead, you got back to work, ignoring the bright red signs of a panic attack on the rise. 

⚝⚝⚝

Having been diagnosed with anxiety when you were younger, you’ve learned to identify signs of an upcoming panic attack. First, you begin to feel dizzy, then a little lightheaded. Your heart begins to hurt, and your stomach starts to turn. Then you can’t breathe, and you’re scratching at your skin to give your lungs more space to breathe. 

Now, as you stand in your kitchen, staring at the piles of paperwork that cover the dining room table, it’s hard to ignore how your body reacts to the sight of the never-ending workload; the feelings you so carelessly ignored before forced to be brought to attention. 

Your eyesight is unfocused, and you are unable to concentrate on the hand you’re using to prepare a small dinner. Your hands violently shake by your side and feel incredibly weak. But that isn’t what worries you; it’s the lack of air entering your lungs that has your eyes squeezed shut. 

Feelings of worthlessness travel up your throat and block your airways. You’re having a panic attack. The realization has you sliding down the fridge and to the floor, tears running freely down your flushed cheeks. You bring your knees to your chest, hands scratching at your throat as if it would allow air into your beaten lungs. 

Your body feels so weak, you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to stand up if you tried. You’re lost to the darkness and anguish the past weeks have wrought upon you; lost to the cruel insecurities your mind created to fool you into this vicious despair. 

No matter how hard you cry, how hard you claw and scrape at your skin, you still can’t breathe. Hopelessness washes over your chilled skin, pulling you into its shadows. You can do nothing but let it take you as its own, the fight for air warring off as you succumb to the darkness that spots your eyes. 

And as your eyes flutter shut, you fail to notice the opening of the window in the living room. You fail to notice the hurried steps and the gloved hands that hold your face gently. Or the man’s desperate calls of your name. 

⚝⚝⚝

The first thing you notice when you regain consciousness is the exhaustion that wracks through your frail body. The second thing is the man who lays next to you on your bed. 

Matt. 

He’s sleeping peacefully, chest moving up and down in slow breaths. You frown, unsure of why he’s here. The last thing you remember was you freaking out about the workload and having a panic attack. You must have fainted from the lack of air, you consider then immediately cringe. How embarrassing. 

“What are you thinking about?” You jump at the sound of Matt’s deep voice, eyes shooting up to watch a small smile grace his face at your reaction. “Why are you here?” The question comes out ruder than you intended, but Matt’s smile doesn't waver. 

“I was on patrol,” he begins, pulling you into his warm embrace, “and figured I’d stop by to check on you. I wasn’t going to come in, just listen-”

“-that’s not creepy at all-”

“-then I heard you panicking. Your heart was beating really fast and you were breathing really heavily. You were already passed out from lack of air by the time I was inside.” He pulls you in tighter like the moment still haunts him. You trace your fingertips gently down his bare arm, ear against his chest as you listen to his heartbeat. 

“What happened, sweetheart?” He asks when it became clear you weren’t going to speak. You sigh. “I’ve been a little stressed lately. And I should’ve listened to my body but I didn’t. There’s just so much work and such little time. I can’t handle all of this workload.” The familiar bite of tears has you shoving your head in Matt’s neck, letting him hold you tightly and reassure you that everything will be okay. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could have worked through your stress together,” He questions quietly and you shake your head in response. “You take the burden of everyone else’s problems, and still go out every night to face all the bad guys- I just didn’t want to burden you with my problems on top of all the rest.”

He pulls away and you try not to frown at the lack of contact. Slowly, his fingers move under your chin and compel you to look into his beautiful, unfocused eyes that sparkle in the city lights shining through your windows. “You are not a burden. Your problems are not a burden. I want to be here for you. I want you to tell me what’s going on in that smart little head of yours-” He flicks your forehead playfully before giving it a small kiss “-And I want you to know you can talk to me.”

You nod your head slowly, feeling like a child that’s just been scolded. “Okay.” He lays there in silence for a moment, seemingly contemplating his words before he speaks, “I think you need to talk to your boss,” you open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off with a gentle squeeze, “This amount of work isn’t healthy. I mean, why hasn’t the workload been separated and passed around to all of your co-workers? It’s fucking stupid if you ask me. She’s obviously taking advantage of your brilliance-”

“-Matt,” You cut him off with an amused smile. His eyes glint at the sound of your giggles as if that was his mission all along and he won first place. 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me. If anything I’m being selfish.” He grins cheekily, kissing your palm as it raises to cup his cheek. “And why, pray tell, are you being selfish?” Your smile is sly and knowing. 

“Because I’m doing this to get my beautiful girl back and into my arms. Foggy isn’t as good company as you, y’know.” You giggle, holding him tightly as your mind settles on a decision. “I’ve missed you too.”

Tomorrow you’ll call your boss and ask for a lessened workload. But for now, you’re just going to lay in bed with the man you love dearly and let him hold you tightly. 

[mrs-weasley-reid]

SHAKESPEAREAN ROSE

Spencer Reid x psychiatrist!reader

Synopsis: Spencer Reid silently admires the new psychiatrist on the floor. Word Count: 1600+ WARNING: nothing, just fluff! A/N: Remember when I said I wrote more than what I posted for Doctors Across The Hall? This is it🤭 (I forgot to post it on aug 1, oops) I've decided to make Spencer Reid x psychiatrist!reader a series! It'll just be a bunch of fluff/angst/rare spicy stuff with psychiatrist!reader that happens in the same timeline but it's not in order. So, not exactly a story just tangents ??? Also I'm open to requests/prompts to keep this going hehe <3 Tell me what you think!

  “Guys, you’re so sweet! This is adorable!”

  Spencer’s ears perk up at the commotion. Curiosity thrums in his veins as he watches Derek hand you a rose. A small stuffed toy is clutched in your other hand. A wide smile adorns your face. A gorgeous sight on a late Wednesday morning. 

  Derek laughs, “Can’t take the credit.” He takes Penelope into his right arm. “Baby girl, right here strongly encouraged me.”

  Penelope gives you a bone-crushing hug, “Happy National Girlfriends Day, my favorite psychiatrist! Get ready for our sleepover! I have so many plans!” She squeals in excitement, inviting JJ in, who’d just discovered the similar objects on her desk.

  Your heart swells. Only two months into the bureau, and you’ve already found yourself a great group of friends. As the newly mandated psychiatrist in the building, it was nerve-wracking to enter the floor that seemed to reak of evil and know-it-alls. And although the BAU team is filled with know-it-alls, despite their constant denial, you managed to squeeze into their group as easily as befriending Penelope Garcia. Considering your office happens to be next to her lair.

  “Isn’t that day for couples only? For a girlfriend? Not a girl that's a friend?” You chuckle, taking in the aroma from the single rose.

  “Nah-uh,” Penelope wiggles her index finger. “All those boys are just piggybacking on girl power—” She turns to Derek, who’s about to object, “—You’re not included. You have been graciously influenced by moi. I’m just saying that I have my girlfriends, so I will celebrate the day the way I see fit, and that is with my gorgeous, gorgeous babes!” 

  As JJ begins to add her piece to the excitement parade, Spencer turns to Emily, who comes back from the kitchen, her stuffed toy in hand.

  “National Girlfriends Day?” He asks lowly.

  “What?” Emily furrows her brows for a moment before it flattens on her forehead. “Oh, that. Just a day some people celebrate to appreciate their girlfriends. Garcia’s excited about it—”

  Her voice quiets into the background in an instant. Spencer sits in his mind as he processes the information. National Girlfriends Day. The words echo in his head. A day to appreciate girlfriends…

— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿

  Lunch is usually your highlight of the day. Not because of the time you eat but because of the time you spend listening to all the sizzling drama Penelope has to offer. It’s an interesting experience to have when you’re also the same person who listens to her cries every time the BAU team flies to yet another case in a different state.

  Today, though. It’s quite different.

  As soon as you enter the bullpen to check in with another agent’s inquiry regarding your services on the floor, a delivery man approaches you and hands you a huge bouquet of roses. Your newly found friends immediately hover around like shameless busybodies. Though, you never mind at all.

  “Oooh, yet another gift from your secret lover…” Emily teases, perching on Derek’s desk as she sips coffee.

  Derek joins in, eyebrows raised. “What is that—” He picks up a small note from one of the roses, rolling it open, “—Love looks not with eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind…” He waves the note with a mischievous grin. “We don’t know this guy, but he sure is cheesy.”

  Emily flashes a sheepish smile, “There’s one on each rose! How many roses are there?” She starts counting by eye.

  “It’s like Shakespearean roses.” Penelope quips after reading another note from a different rose, passing you the small poem that immediately makes your lips curl.

  “Shakespearean roses..? That's a thing?” You curiously inquire, looking over the vast red petals close to your chest. 

Penelope shrugs, “Not really, but it could be!” She beams at you.

  JJ smiles, joining in after a small detour to her office. “Oh, wow!” Her eyes widen, and her brows lift. “Another one of the noble Sir Rumple?” She coaxes.

  “Who is this Sir Rumple, anyway? I’m very curious.” Emily snorts, wiggling her brows at you. She doesn’t push past your clear boundaries but never fails to strike all her attempts to get a name out of you. She’s a profiler, after all.

  “Most importantly, when is she going to introduce us to her secret lover?” Derek teases, nudging you playfully.

  Just as you look up, Spencer Reid stands behind everyone, clutching the strap of his bag like usual. 

  His hair is short and untamed. Big hazel brown eyes spark under the fluorescent light. A thin, shy smile. And a familiar red cardigan. 

  You reckon it was the priciest clothing you’ve ever bought as a small thank you present. But Spencer doesn’t need to know, really.

  Time moves slowly at the brewing desire to have Spencer close. His shy smile and adorable averting eyes bring you the thought of domesticity. You imagine him coming home just like that. Messy hair. Giddy, tight-lipped smile. Exhausted features and yet the most handsome man in your books. A spatula in your hand, music in the kitchen, and the hem of his collared shirt swaying over your thighs. It's poetically a dream. Something you wish to have, to do for as long as you're breathing.

  “Maybe next time?” You say with blushing cheeks. The utter embarrassment of talking about a secret lover in front of your crush had your mind blown into overdrive.

  The group exchanges looks. But they don’t push further, indulging in the rare moment of your silent, sunny smile and hoping that you’re happy with whoever's been showering you with affection.

  “Okay, maybe not fully Shakespearean roses,” Penelope interjects, reading a corny joke that had the entire group cringe and you laughing.

  The joy in your laughter is like Clair de Lune playing through sunset. Spencer imagines warm tea in his hand, a book on his lap, and your little giggles across as you flip a page of yet another cheesy romance novel. Sunlight along your most beautiful features, which he insists is all of you. The cozy oversized shirt he owns covers the softness of your skin. A simple thought and yet has his heart racing in sheer bliss.

  Spencer smiles into his action report. “Shakespearean roses…” He whispers in a chuckle, shaking his head at the idea.

— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿

  The day comes to a close with excitement and heartwarming joy. 

  “See you later at 9! Don't be late.” Penelope waves at you as the doors slide closed.

  You chuckle at her antics but quickly find yourself in a small predicament, struggling to carry all the tokens of love you’d received from everyone.

  “Here, let me help.” 

  Your eyes meet his. And you think you're having a heart attack. But you make sure to smile kindly with a not-so-eager nod.

  “Thanks, Reid.”

  He flashes his signature smile, taking the tall bouquet from your hands. 

  You fight yourself from biting the lower of your lips at the sight of his hand clutching the stem without difficulty. So, you breathe gently and indulge in his warmth next to you.

  “Looks like you had a nice day,” Spencer starts tentatively, swaying on the balls of his feet as he hoists your favorite thing of the day.

  You turn to him with a hum and a gentle bounce of your shoulders. “I did. I feel loved.” You confess.

  Spencer hides his blushing ears. Is it so wrong to wish you always smiled at him like that? Does a lifetime sound too much to ask? 

  “That's great,” He nods casually, letting the other patrons jump in and out of the lift.

  The doors open on the last floor. Both of you walk side by side as you trickle out of the lift into the parking lot. It's not a rule. But somehow, you and he always parked in the lowest lot despite the vast parking spaces above.

  He continues the conversation on smaller tangents that make you giggle. How did your sessions today go? How was the new lunch place you went to? 

  And you throw back the same curiosity with an enthusiasm he admires. Did you finish all your reports? Did you enjoy your lunch stroll? 

  Spencer hands you the bouquet back as soon as you settle your things in the passenger seat of your car. “See you tomorrow?”

  You beam at him, and his eyes soften, “See you tomorrow, Sir Rumple.” You giggle, stealing a quick peck on his cheek.

  Before you can turn around, Spencer stills your hips and steals a similar kiss, albeit on the softness of your lips.

  The two of you giggle at the silence. Butterflies flutter with tickling speed in both of your stomachs. Maybe keeping your relationship private isn’t as bad as you’d imagine. 

  He opens the door for you and waits until you're comfortable in your seat. “I think I prefer Shakespearean Rose now.” You announce as he leans on your window.

  He playfully pouts, “But I love Sir Rumple better…” He twists his brows. The telltale sign of his gears turning. “Maybe I can be both?” He comprises.

  “You can be whatever pseudonym you want,” You smile at him. “You’re the only Spencer Reid I want.” 

  Spencer’s cheeks tint a shade of soft red. He leans and kisses your forehead.

  “Shakespearean Rose it is.”

reid masterlist | masterlist

[namgyunation]

not gonna teach him how to dance (with you)

— PART ONE.

— pairing: nam-gyu x f!reader (the focus); dae-ho x f!reader (barely.) — summary: you spent the past couple months of your life successfully dodging all of nam-gyu's attempts to contact you after you two'd broken up (and for good reason). now, six months later, your luck runs out, and you come face-to-face with the same guy you promised yourself you'd never see again. luckily, your new teammate, dae-ho, is there to act as a buffer. nam-gyu's not the biggest fan of that. — w/c: 17.5k — tags: jealousy. mentions of character death. drug usage. while this first part is generally sfw, the overall fic is 18+. mdni! nam-gyu is an asshole. reader replaces jun-hee in gi-hun's team for the pentathlon. while dae-ho x reader is in the tags, pls keep in mind this is mainly nam-gyu x reader!!! // tags for part 2: brief smut. pinv. unprotected sex. oral. drug usage (reader included). usage of 'bitch' and other unkind terms by nam-gyu.

— a/n: request for dearest ☁️ anon. thank you so much for this insanely fun request. i've been having a lot of fun while writing it. also, this is split into two parts bc i desperately need to release this from my drafts before i lose my mind!!! this first part is mostly exposition, aka, THERE'S NO SMUT IN HERE YET! anywaysss, i hope this is enjoyable while i crank out part 2 :]

he's got two left feet, and he bites my moves. i'm not gonna teach him how to dance with you.

you liked to think that you had a somewhat decent childhood. a decent upbringing with decent parents and a decent foundation for your future. a decent chance at life.

you also liked to think that you had a decent taste in men, but maybe that was pushing it a bit far, given your recent circumstances.

you liked to think all of these things.

but if that were all true, how exactly did you end up here?

you brought your knees to your chest, the stiff cot beneath you doing nothing to soothe the unease rising slowly and unbidden in your chest. you pulled the blue-green sweater tighter around yourself as if it'd help you stay together, continuing to stare out blankly at the sea of people before you in the cold room.

a day earlier, you stood at the subway station, anxiety and exhaustion weighing heavily on your bones. your shift had been tiresome. boring. slow. and yet, despite the slowness of your life, there was always an invisible weight, a neverending pressure pushing down on you, looming over your head like an axe ready to fall.

nowadays, you had gotten into the habit of ignoring your bank account, terrified of what you'd find if you dared to look. nonetheless, the ghost of your debts haunted your every move. every waking thought, every shift, every purchase, every shower you took only to promptly find out that your hot water had been shut off.

you ignored a lot of things.

the dull ache in your chest when you lied to your aging parents about how you were doing, not wanting to burden them with your mistakes. the way your landlord looked at you each time you paid your rent later and later, your head hung low in silent desperation. the voicemails and texts flooding your inbox, the last remaining ones before you'd finally blocked him. the fucking reason you were in this whole mess to begin with.

most of all, you ignored the way that, despite it all, a piece of you—a big, big piece of you—still wanted the fucker. still missed him. still—months later—hesitated weakly over the ‘call’ button beneath his contact image: a photo of him grinning next to a tree. it was blurry because you were laughing when you took it, but you liked it. you couldn't bring yourself to change it.

you hated that you still thought about him. you shouldn't be thinking of him at all. but honestly, it'd been impossible not to. not when your savings were nonexistent, drained into nothing because of him. because of the stupid fucking crypto. because he'd done his best to try and convince you that it was a good idea. because you'd trusted him enough to listen when you told him not to, only to wake up one day to him pacing in the living room, all color drained from his face as he pulled on his coat and rushed to work without so much as a glance over his shoulder, despite not being scheduled that day.

you remembered the exact moment you realized what'd happened. remembered what you were wearing, what you'd eaten that day, the three minutes you'd waited in line, the bankteller's bored, uninterested expression when she told you it wasn't a mistake that you couldn't withdraw any money. you remembered sitting on the bench outside feeling cold and numb, like you'd swallowed winter, the frantic messages pouring into your phone after he ignored your first five calls.

i'll fix it, i swear. i'll get it all back. you just have to give me a bit

it'll go back up, trust me. the guy said it would

the guy. he'd bet the entirety of your savings on the words of some fucking guy.

and just like that, you watched your whole life be flushed unceremoniously down the drain. you stayed rooted to the bench for ten minutes, your butt aching from the stiff, rotten wood.

to this day, just shy of six months later, you could still feel every last minute in your bones.

now, standing at the platform, your thumb twitched over your phone screen again. you let your eyes flutter shut, forcing yourself to inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth.

"rough night?

the voice was smooth, deep, carrying an edge of practiced familiarity. you blinked, lifting your gaze.

a tall man with dark hair and dark eyes stood next to you in a crisp suit, a polite but confident smile on his face as he regarded you kindly. his posture was relaxed, yet deliberate, a sleek briefcase resting against his leg.

you nodded, polite but alarmed by the sudden intrusion on your brooding. it'd been a long time since you cared enough to tangle in small talk with a stranger.

you hadn't even noticed him approach.

"yeah, you could say that," you replied half-heartedly.

he didn't say anything for a moment, just gave you a small nod as he hummed knowingly.

then, after a pause— "tell me, have you ever played ddakji?"

there was something off about the interaction, about the way he looked at you, talked to you with that calm familiarity, like he already knew you.

but you decided to humor it.

your day-to-day life was monotonous, a string of disappointments and uncertainties as you desperately tried to claw your way back up out of the hole you found yourself in, and with every passing moment, it seemed like you just kept on sinking.

so you shrugged internally, willing yourself to open your mind to the new uncertainty standing right in front of you.

you nodded.

by the time you got back home, your palms were slick with sweat. a wad of cash weighed down both of your pockets. your heart was racing as you stumbled over the threshold and quickly clicked the door shut.

you threw yourself onto the couch, your legs suddenly feeling too weak to stand. you felt like a ghost in your own home, not sure if you were really alive, as you pulled a card from your wallet.

a circle. a triangle. a square.

and a number.

but more importantly—

a chance.

clearly, you’d made your choice.

you wrung your hands tightly in front of you, digging your nails into your skin just hard enough to hurt before quickly soothing them with firm swipes of your thumbs.

after the explanation the guards provided you all earlier and the quick flashes of footage of the others getting slapped—same as you,— something inside of you unclenched. but only slightly.

despite its size, the room was suffocating. everyone was dressed the same as you, and you couldn't help but feel uneasy amongst all the unfamiliar faces. they were clearly all as confused as you. and, from what you'd learned earlier, they were just as broke as you, too. you sucked in a breath, only feeling slightly bad about the dull comfort it brought you, knowing that you weren't the only one perched desperately at the edge of your life.

this was your chance. you had to make it count. had to.

ddakji was easy enough. how much worse could this be?

the line inched forward, and you followed, peeking around the person in front of you for a moment. they—the pink guards, were gathering forms from each player. you just wanted to sign the damn thing, play the games, get your money, and get the hell out. traces of euphoria still lingered from the night before, the cash you'd won heavy and crisp in your hands. it made you impatient.

your turn came and went. you signed the paper quickly, barely even skimming the words in front of you before you were pushing the pen forward with numb fingers and breaking off from the crowd to find and claim a good bunk. as long as the promise of money still remained, you didn't find it necessary to get too into the fine details.

there was no going back now.

you're busy walking up the stairs to claim a top bunk when you heard it. it's a distant sound, but the recognition is immediate.

for a moment, everything stopped. a block of ice froze over you, making you feel unbearably heavy. your throat went dry as you turned your head slowly, cautiously towards the source of the intrusion.

a part of you desperately didn't want to believe it, hoped that you were imagining things. a part of you that didn't want to see him.

another part of you—tiny and pulsing and unbidden—did.

your eyes zeroed in on a black head of hair. long, sleek, with layers that jutted out just past the ears. you knew it from the way he stood, the way he moved. suddenly, your pulse quickened, your heart dropping down to your toes as your suspicions were confirmed.

because of course.

of course he had to there.

why the fuck wouldn't he be?

if it weren't for the sickening pit slowly taking form in your stomach, you might've laughed.

"the amazing myung-gi from mg coin? is that you?" a low, familiar rumble. teasing. mocking. your heart jumped.

nam-gyu cut effortlessly through the sea of voices like a knife, his words ringing in your ears even with the vast space between the two of you. your head spun.

you climbed the stairs quickly, suddenly filled with urgency as you took them two at a time. you threw yourself onto the highest cot and backed yourself up against the wall, not stopping until it pressed hard into your back. you tilted your head forward, letting your hair fall over your eyes in a makeshift shield. the only thing you could think to do to obscure yourself from him. you watched him from your vantage point, hoping, praying that he hadn't seen you.

you felt sick.

you pulled your knees up to your face and watched him with bated breath. your nails dug deep into your skin yet again as you tried, desperately, to ground yourself. fuck. you had to get it together. you couldn't let this jeopardize you. the money. this was bigger than him.

it looked like he'd made a friend already. a loud guy covered in tattoos with purple hair that seemed to match his personality: obnoxious, loud, and demanding attention. his voice projected loudly, echoing off the walls of the room. in front of them was a smaller guy. you couldn't fully tell what was going on, but it wasn't hard to tell that it was far from a pleasant interaction.

suddenly, the purple-haired one grabbed him by the collar, reeling back a fist with the clear threat of violence. nam-gyu quickly defused it, smiling as he peeled his 'friend' from the smaller guy. you couldn't hear what he was saying. he rubbed his shoulders as if placating him from his previous outburst.

you snorted in spite of the unease still settling in your bones.

leave it to nam-gyu to still find a way to insert himself into these kinds of situations, to seek out the worst possible people and attach himself to them like a magnet. even in a strange place like this.

you watched his back as he walked away and disappeared into his own corner of the room. thankfully, away from you. finally, you breathed, letting some of the tension in your shoulders fall away. there was no time for distractions. you had to get it together.

soon enough, it was time for the first game.

you weren’t sure what to expect, but you still carried yourself with as much confidence as you could. the crowd moved forward in a massive wave, funneling into the hallway leading into the game arena. pink guards led the crowd, a few of them standing at attention on the sidelines to make sure everyone kept moving. they looked so serious even in their hot pink uniforms. if this was some sort of game show, they were definitely taking themselves too seriously.

you took extra care to keep your head down, shielding the sides of your face with your hair as you matched the speed of those around you, not wanting to stick out. paranoia slipped between the cracks of your mind, but you pushed it down.

soon, you found yourself staring out at the large clearing stretching before you. you weren't sure what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn't this. you scanned the crowd. you didn't see him, but it didn't comfort you. he could be anywhere.

now, in the wide, empty space, you felt exposed. you quickly found a spot behind someone taller and bigger than you, taking shelter there while you waited patiently for instructions.

"all players, please wait a moment on the field." a voice boomed over the speakers.

that's when you saw it. a massive, animatronic doll standing at the far end. mechanical eyes staring straight ahead.

a man beside you chuckled. amused and incredulous. "what the hell is that?"

you didn't have an answer for him.

it wasn’t until the game had started and you were midway through the field with your heart hammering against your ribs and your palms slick with sweat that you realized the true gravity of the situation you're in.

every moment seemed to pass by in fragments, like it wasn’t really happening. like you weren’t really there.

the man in front of the crowd did little to comfort you. if anything, his words made your head spin more.

"you'll also die if you don't make it there in time!"

his voice reached your ears just fine amidst the eerie silence, but it was hard to focus over the feeling of your heart pounding craters into your chest.

"GREEN LIGHT."

you forced yourself to move despite the way your legs wobbled and threatened to give out. your pulse slammed in your ears as you ran. the finish line seemed a lifetime away. was this really how you were going to die?

the lines of players continued to inch forward at a torturous pace. you swallowed your nerves, clenched your hands into fists to hide the way they shook.

"RED LIGHT."

you lurched to a stop. your breath shuddered.

a man in the line to the right of you was still mid-step. his eyes widened in horror just before the shot rang out. he dropped. you tried not to look, but you saw. saw the way he fell like a ragdoll. saw the way the blood pooled beneath him, slowly.

your eyes flicked away from the crime scene, searching the rest of your periphery for anything else to wash away what you just saw. that's when you finally saw him. his head is low, ducked behind the taller woman in front of him. you couldn't see his face, but you saw the way his whole body locked. he's perfectly still, barely even breathing.

"GREEN LIGHT."

you pushed forward. step by step.

time slowed down, and you got tunnel vision. the only thing that mattered right now was reaching the finish line.

nam-gyu reached it before you, but you were barely even paying attention at that point, too distracted by the panic you were just barely able to swallow down.

when it came down to being noticed by nam-gyu or eating a bullet, the decision seemed much easier for you.

lucky for you, he couldn't be damned to care, either. as soon as he crossed the finish line, he threw himself to the ground, gripping the dirt with shaky hands like it was a lover. he didn't turn around, didn't give a fuck who was still on the field. he'd made it, and fuck. that was the only thing he gave a shit about right now.

when you finally crossed the threshold, your knees buckled, and you fell unceremoniously to the ground, clenching a fist in the material of your shirt as you counted the beats of your heart.

you were alive.

the last player stumbled across the finish line just as the timer ran out. you vaguely remembered picking yourself up, forcing your body to move despite the heaviness in your bones. you didn't look back.

not at the bodies. not at the blood.

the hallway swallowed you whole, leading you and the other players back to the main dormitory. soon, the doors had been slammed shut behind you, sealing away all the lifeless bodies left on the field.

the air in the main room was suffocating. the tall rows of beds seemed to cage you all in, standing tall like silent judges. you felt cramped, somehow even moreso than earlier, despite the fact that half of the people you'd walked in with hadn't walked back out.

the thought made you shudder.

some players collapsed the second they entered. others cried. you're surprised you hadn't joined them yet. you hugged your knees to your chest as the cold floor reached through your clothes and chilled you. climbing the stairs seemed too daunting of a task, right now. goosebumps rose to your skin as you waited. for what, you weren't sure.

when the guards emerged again, you realized that you'd completely forgotten about nam-gyu.

a loud, intimidating buzzer sounded, startling you from your position. your breath caught in your throat as you scrambled to your feet and hurriedly retreated deeper into the bunks against the far wall, as did all the others.

"congratulations for making it through the first game." the guard's voice was cold, mechanic.

his words were met with silence. nobody moved.

"here are the results of the first game," the guard continued.

your eyes flicked up to the screen, mouth going dry as you watched the number drop rapidly. it could've been you.

you chanced a glance around the room, then, and it didn't take long to find him. if you looked for the splotch of purple amongst the sea of black, he'd be right there next to it. nam-gyu's eyes were wide, lips slightly parted as he gripped tightly to the step he was sitting on.

it could've been you, but it also could've been him. you felt cold.

something inside of you—something small and quiet and aching—almost made you want to get up and talk to him, to ask him if he was okay, to hear your name on his lips for the first time in months.

you wondered if it would comfort you. you wondered if it would comfort him.

your thoughts were bordering on something dangerous, something akin to desperation, egged on by the intense fear building in your chest. the smell of blood and gore hung heavily in the air as your eyes traced the sharp edges of his face, your legs twitching with the barely hidden desire to move.

lucky for you, your thoughts were forcibly cut off by the sound of other players throwing themselves down in front of the guards. you swallowed, your pulse quickening as you watched them beg for their lives. did it even matter? would the guards even listen?

a few seconds passed of that: the guards standing stiff and tall on their elevated platform, looking down at everyone as they pleaded and begged. you felt sick.

then, the man that had led the crowd through the first game stepped forward.

"clause three of the consent form! the games may be terminated upon a majority vote."

your breath caught again. yeah. maybe it would've been a good idea to read the form, after all.

there would be a vote, and maybe you could leave. your mind raced at a million miles a minute as you planned out your next move. maybe you'd finally fess up to your parents and ask for their support. maybe you'd suck it up and just take out a loan. maybe. there were options, for sure, right? there had to be. it couldn't be any worse than this.

it was then that the guard pulled out a small remote, pointing it at the ceiling before clicking a button.

the harsh, white overhead lighting shifted and melted into something warmer, almost pleasant, like the dim glow of a campfire. you tilted your head skyward, taking in the source of the light with wide eyes.

everyone watched as the golden piggy bank filled with a steady stream of cash. it almost seemed like it wouldn't ever stop, each moment punctuated with a rhythmic ding as the money climbed higher and higher.

you could feel it in real time as you watched each wad of cash drop in, the way each hypothetical plan from the past few seconds crumpled itself up into a ball before promptly being discarded into a forgotten corner of your mind.

you swallowed hard, head spinning as you took it all in, your desperation at odds with your innate desire to survive. not too long ago, you stood on a desolate field littered with dead bodies, filled with nothing but thoughts of home.

now? you felt like you were being drawn in, held down, beckoned by some unseen magnetic force. it was like your body was practically begging you to stay.

fuck. you really needed that cash.

you glanced around quickly, but it was harder to pick out nam-gyu from the crowd now that everyone was standing.

however, you didn't really need to see his reaction to know that his pathetic, sorry ass definitely needed the cash, too.

soon, the room was set up for the vote. a blue 'o' and a red 'x' marked the floor, splitting it perfectly down the middle.

you stared intently at the voting booth at the far end of the room, skin buzzing with a feeling you couldn't name. you should leave. really, you should. it was the logical thing to do after what you'd seen, but the seed of doubt had already been planted, and with every passing moment, it grew bigger and harder to ignore, warmed by the glow of the piggy bank hanging overhead.

your number wasn't too close to the beginning, nor was it right at the end, so you had plenty of time to think, to try and talk yourself out of what your body was screaming at you to do.

eventually, the guard called your number, and every muscle in your body locked up. you exhaled sharply, rubbing your thumbs over your knuckles to soothe yourself. you kept your head down as you walked up and let your hair fall over your face, desperately trying not to meet anyone's eyes. nam-gyu hadn't voted yet, thankfully, so it would be a little easier to avoid him seeing you.

it was quiet as everyone watched your back, eyes flicking between you and the screen as they waited for what you'd do.

you came to a stop at the voting booth, taking in both buttons as you worried your bottom lip. you paused for a few seconds, trying and failing to force your body to change its mind, to come to its senses last minute, but it didn't.

it was almost laughable how quickly you found your answer. you knew it before your number had been called, before you even walked up.

the bodies. the blood. the gunshots. it all flashed through your head, made your hands shake. but when you put all the delusions to the side and it really came down to it—what exactly was even waiting for you on the outside?

you slammed the button quickly, taking the blue patch from the guards and applying it frantically before you turned, awkwardly tipping your head forward to let the hair fall over your eyes again as you ducked your head, not daring to look up. you slipped seamlessly into the 'O' crowd as they cheered for you, their eyes glued to the screen as the blue vote went up by one.

you held your breath and waited in silent agony as the minutes crawled by. had he seen you? was he looking at you now? you didn't dare look, but your neck itched with the temptation.

when the vote finally ended, revealing that the games were going to continue, you didn't cheer, but something sick washed over you—relief? hope? determination?

you were a walking contradiction: terrified for what the following days would bring, of what you saw today, but still desperate enough to want to grip onto this opportunity and take whatever you posibbly could from it. what else was left for you if you didn't?

thankfully, the guards supplied all of the players with food as soon as the vote ended. it was much appreciated, considering the guilt now steadily gnawing away at your conscience.

you shoved yourself into a dark corner of the dormitory, clutching the cold tin like a lifeline as you finished it all. it wasn't the best. the rice was dry, and considering it was the only thing you had to eat today, it barely even felt like a meal, but it was what you were given, and you sure as hell weren't about to waste it.

you sat with your back against the cold metal bars of the bunk beds, knees drawn up as you finished the water bottle in just a few gulps. you wiped your mouth with the back of your sleeve as your eyes flickered across the room, cautious, searching, scanning the sea of strangers yet again as you tried to wrap your head around the situation you were in.

you'd purposefully wedged yourself into a quiet corner of the room far away from the others, from him.

a thought struck you, then. how many of these people were already working together? you took in the murmurs and hushed discussions flowing around you, suddenly feeling a bit dumb in the small corner you'd tucked yourself in.

your hands curled around the now-empty water bottle, crushing it slightly as your breathing quickened. you'd barely spoken to anyone, all your energy having gone towards avoiding nam-gyu, and in a place like this, you were certain that that was a mistake.

a commotion across the room pulled your attention. you leaned forward, trying to get a better view around the beds.

you spotted nam-gyu first. he was busy pulling the guy from earlier—mg coin—off of his purple-haired friend. you watched as nam-gyu held him back, locking him in by his arms just long enough for his friend to get some punches in. the sound of a fist connecting with his jaw echoed through the room—once, twice, and then he crumpled to the ground with a pained grunt. it made you wince.

"i lost all that money because of you, fucker." his frien'ds voice carried over to your corner, loud and angry and filled with malice.

behind him, nam-gyu rolled up his sleeves. "hey, let me get in there." he directed his attention to the man on the floor as he ran up, face twisted in a sneer. "you son of a bitch—"

your eyes widened as the scene unfolded before you, mouth curling up in a mixture of disgust, confusion, and amusement as you watched as your ex-boyfriend completely fumbled his kick, promptly losing his balance and falling to the ground right after.

you held back a laugh, the hand still holding your water bottle going up to cover your mouth as you watched his friend shove him back out of the way. what a loser.

you turned away, settling back into your corner as you held the metal tray in front of you, running your thumbs over the cold surface in an attempt to soothe yourself as you waited patiently for all of this to be over.

the night came and went. you didn't sleep well.

an announcement echoed through the vast, sterile room, rousing you from your inadequate sleep and reminding you of exactly where you were. it took a moment for you to fully process the stuffy tracksuit scratching your skin and the stiff, foreign bed pressing up beneath you. your stomach twisted as you threw your thin blanket to the side and forced yourself down the stairs. the cheerful music sounding over the speakers did nothing to comfort you. if anything, it made you feel worse.

"the next game will start momentarily. please follow the instructions from our staff."

soon, you and the other players were being led through the hallways yet again. obedient lambs being led to the slaughter. you climbed up and down the staircases without a word, forcing yourself to inhale and exhale as you took in the brightly colored interior around you, a stark contrast to the danger that was no doubt waiting for you at your destination.

a small part of you wanted the stairs to go on forever, but soon enough, the big gray doors separating you from your potential death were sliding open. the pink guards filed into the room, you and the rest of the players in tow. the mechanical voice sounded over the speakers yet again.

"players, welcome to the second game. we will begin shortly. this game will be played in teams."

in teams.

"please take the next ten minutes to divide into groups of five. i will now repeat the instructions."

a chill spread through your body.

fuck. you could barely stand group projects when you were still in school, preferring to just get everything done on your own. it was exhausting, having to depend on others and put your trust in them to do their part and pull their weight. now, standing dumbly in a foreign room surrounded by a sea of strangers, it dawned on you that you had no choice.

before, an inadequate team meant your grade was on the line, an easy fix with a quick email to your professor.

here? an inadequate team meant certain death, and unfortunately for you, technology just hadn't advanced far enough to find an easy fix for a bullet to the head.

"please divide into teams starting now."

get it together.

you weaved in and out of the crowd, searching for someone merciful enough to take you in. people were already moving, scrambling into groups like ants, their voices overlapping hurriedly in rushed whispers and negotiations.

"already full."

"try somewhere else."

"sorry, we're set."

your heart pounded faster and faster with each rejection. what would happen if you didn't have a group? it wouldn't be fair. the guards wouldn't allow that. right?

you made eye contact with a group of four men, and you opened your mouth to speak as you steered yourself in their direction, a spark of hope bubbling in your chest.

"sorry. we already have our group," one of them spoke before you could even say anything.

you paused mid-step. their body language became clear to you. the way they turned their backs to you ever so slightly, huddling closer to each other in a tight circle that clearly existed to shut you out, just enough to subtly express their clear disinterest while maintaining plausable deniability. their eyes flicked over your body, looking you up and down.

your hand went up, gesturing vaguely at their huddle. admittedly, you were growing a bit desperate.

"you have four? i thought..."

you trailed off as another man sauntered up to their group, approaching them from the side and immediately drawing their full attention.

"are you still looking for a fifth player? i'd like to join you."

two of the men grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him quickly, wordlessly into their circle, clapping him on the shoulder like they were long-lost friends.

they didn't spare you a second glance.

you shut your mouth quickly, any and all words dying on your tongue as you watched another door shut in front of you.

when you looked around again, you found that almost everyone had arranged themselves neatly. circles of five dotted the room and continued to grow.

the groups were forming fast.

too fast.

you pictured yourself again, trying to claw yourself out of a hole that just kept on sinking deeper.

the air in the room somehow felt thinner. still, you pushed forward, gripping onto hope. there had to be an open spot somewhere.

and then—

a subtle shift in the air. enough to tug at your chest with a slight feeling of unease. the prickle of something unseen.

your body reacted before your mind did. something was off. you slowed, your movements stiffening.

and then, in your peripheral vision—

you felt it. the weight of his stare boring holes into your profile.

you froze, suddenly realizing how exposed you were. a lone ant wandering frantically around the established huddles. your heart dropped to your toes. slowly, you turned your head, just a fraction.

nam-gyu stood just a few feet away, caught mid-step, his body rigid like he'd just walked straight into a nightmare.

as you expected, his eyes are locked onto you, wide with something unreadable.

and for the first time in six months, you saw him. really saw him. not from a distance, not from a memory, not from old photos or in between the spaces in your dreams.

you saw him.

and he sure as hell saw you.

your breath caught, feeling like a deer in headlights.

you noted the increased sharpness of his jaw, the thinning of his face. a stray thought hit you, and you wondered if he'd been eating well since you were gone. his eyes looked tired. his hair was longer. it had been a long time.

at first, his face didn't change. he stood still, eerily still, almost like a statue, staring at you like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. he narrowed his eyes for a moment, leaning in ever so slightly as if confirming your identity.

recognition flashed across his features, and he faltered. his friend that he'd been following rushed ahead, completely unaware of nam-gyu lagging behind him.

then, his expression shifted.

you watched as his jaw tightened, lips pressing into a thin line. his hands curled into fists at his sides.

the way he looked at you—his eyes flashing with disbelief, anger, and underneath it all, something absolutely wrecked—it made your stomach twist.

you knew that look. you knew him. it didn't take a genius to guess what was going on in his head right now. just you.

nam-gyu's mind twisted as flickers of you rose to the surface, crawling out from their hiding places beneath his overwhelming fear. a cruel replay of the slow and steady crash of what the two of you had built together. and he'd been the one to push the first domino.

he remembered it all. how he'd begged like his life depended on it, sad and desperate and pleading as he felt the rug being pulled in real-time from beneath his feet. sent texts and left voicemails that went unanswered. chased after you for months when you suddenly decided you were done—for real, this time—and scrubbed yourself cleanly from his life. he'd tracked down mutual friends for a single hint or loose end, only to find that you'd scrubbed that, too.

something possessed you the day you found out, and you made quick work of it: new number, new socials, new place, new friends. you cleaned every surface, filed away each memory, dusted every cobweb sitting in the corners of what used to be your relationship, and somehow still found the time to leave your shoes neatly at the door.

you'd become a ghost in his life, only existing in loose items between couch cushions and scattered beneath the sink, in passing questions from people that he didn't care about in conversations that he didn't want to have.

and now—now you were here. standing right in front of him.

like you'd been raised from the fucking dead.

after months of searching. months of nothing.

you backed away a fraction of a step.

he saw it.

his nostrils flared, fingers twitched. his posture went rigid like a coil about to snap, like a creature about to pounce, but he didn't move towards you. he didn't say anything. just watched.

because he wouldn't give you the satistfaction. wouldn't let you know that this did something to him. that he even gave a shit. that the very sight of you still made his heart race and hands shake.

you snapped out of it, turning fast. your chest tightened with the urge to get away.

behind you, nam-gyu watched your back in retreat, only letting his eyes rest on you for a few more seconds before he forced himself to turn, following after his friend again as he desperately tried to ignore the blood rushing in his ears.

your face was pale as you looked from side to side, legs shaking with the effort of not crumbling to the floor. then, you saw him. alone and searching amongst the crowd. a tall man with his hair done up in a ponytail. his eyes locked on to another player, someone just a few feet away.

you watched in horror as another door threatened to close before you. you didn't think, didn't hesitate, your feet barely touching the ground as you sprinted towards him.

he startled when you grabbed onto his sleeve. perhaps a bit too rough. your nails dig into the fabric of his tracksuit, clutching him like you're afraid he might run away. you're aware of how crazy you must look, looking up at him with your eyes blown wide and all color drained from your face.

his brow furrowed, mouth opened, but you spoke first.

"please."

the word came out choked, desperate. your knuckles turned white around his sleeve, your grip tight enough for him to know that this wasn't just a casual request.

"let me join your team." it didn't even dawn on you that he might not even have a team, what with the way he was wandering around alone. you didn't really care. "please," you said again.

the man looked at you, his face still laced with surprise from the suddenness of your interaction. not even a second passed before he was nodding enthusiastically, looking almost relieved.

"sure!" he said simply. a smile. "come on."

his hand came out to tap on your shoulder twice. his touch was light, respectful, barely perceptible as he led you forward, towards his team. as if sensing your unease, he let his fingers linger on your shoulder, hovering just slightly above so he was barely even touching you. still, it tethered you to him with the promise of a group.

you didn't exhale until your legs finally came to a stop before them.

"sir, sir, i found someone!" he said, fingers fanning out as he gestured to you at his side. "or, she found me." he smiled kindly at you.

you nodded shakily. "thank you," you managed to get out, now that your pulse was slowly returning to normal.

the three older men acknowledged you politely.

some of the tension released from your shoulders. you had a team.

from across the room, nam-gyu watched next to his newly formed team, his lower lip caught between his teeth as his mind filled with static. he turned away quickly, scared that you'd turn around and catch him looking.

he played anxiously with his rings, sliding them on and off of his fingers as he struggled to catch his breath. the world muffled around him for a moment before he was dragged back by a random outburst of english.

"what's up, my brother! welcome to the thanos world." he—thanos, pulled the shortest member of the newly-formed team into a hug. "you're cute. come on."

nam-gyu felt like his head might split open.

relief felt funny in a place like this. as soon as your body started to unclench, albeit just a little bit, the world made sure to remind you that this whole ordeal was far from over, and soon enough, your body started clamming right back up.

sure, you were relieved that you'd found a team, but was it even the right one?

you didn't even know what the game was going to be, didn't even know if you were going to alive within the next hour.

the thought made you shudder, so you did your best to push it down, your attention fading in and out as they conversated around you. your hands twitched nervously at your sides as you fought against the urge to scan the room, to see where he was.

despite the temptation, you weren't sure if you were mentally equipped to handle what would happen if you were to make eye contact with nam-gyu for a second time. you hadn't turned around once since you'd joined dae-ho's side. you couldn't—not when the prickle of paranoia was icing up and down your spine, telling you that he was looking at you now, a warning. not when you knew exactly what kind of expression he was wearing—something between a sneer and a scowl, like he was daring you to look back.

you kept your gaze forward and your face unreadable. the last thing you needed was any outside people getting involved in whatever was brewing between the two of you. if you had any say in it, you hoped to get through all the games without speaking to nam-gyu at all.

somewhere across the room, nam-gyu's jaw tightened as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, his posture deceptively casual. he watched your back intently, like he was still coming to terms with the fact that it was really you. a cold, aching feeling had settled in his chest at the first sight of you, and it coiled tighter and tighter with each passing moment that you didn't try to look for him. you didn't even turn your head. it was like you didn't give a shit that he was there or the fact that you hadn't seen him in six. fucking. months. nam-gyu's whole body felt hot, but he couldn't say anything. not here. not now.

his team stood in a huddle beside him, chatting amongst themselves, though it was mostly thanos that was speaking. he said something loud and off-key, likely a joke. only one person laughed. nam-gyu could hear his voice, but he couldn't make out any of the words. he wasn't listening.

after a few more moments of that, of waiting in silent agony for you to show a single sign of caring, he forced himself to turn around, to tear his eyes away from you, pretending as if the past six months hadn't been absolute hell—as if he hadn't seen you in his dreams every single night, only to wake up dazed and confused in a sweat-soaked shirt, reality setting in as he realized that his bed was too cold and too small for the two of you. it always took a few seconds for him to remember that he was alone, and each time, it hurt just as bad as the night before.

and now? now you were here, real and right in front of him, sharing the same damn air, and you wouldn't even fucking look at him.

he was silent as he regarded his new team, a sour taste forming in his mouth for more reasons than one. every second that you were out of his view was agonizing, but he would never admit that. he could walk over to you right now, if he wanted, but he couldn't. not after you'd looked at him like that—like you didn't even know him.

he refused to give you the satisfaction of turning him away yet again.

he had more important things to focus on, anyways. at least, that's what he kept telling himself.

soon enough, the timer ran out and teams were finalized. all the players were lined up on the floor within their respected circle. you stared at the track out of the corner of your eyes, noting the rainbow pattern indifferently as you rubbed slow, soothing circles into your knees.

you noticed that the rest of your team seemed somewhat acquainted as they chatted amongst themselves, likely from the first game. it made you feel a bit out of place, considering you were the last minute addition hurriedly and desperately wedged into their group.

however, their slight familiarity with each other was welcome. if anything, it meant that the team would function well. at least, you hoped it would. you breathed a silent prayer, thankful that, despite the fact that you'd basically taken a shot in the dark when you asked to join, your team seemed promising. seemed normal. it was the least you could ask for in a strange place like this. either way, there was no backing out now.

the first round of players went up, and you watched intently as they lined up and were promptly cuffed together by the guards.

after a brief discussion with your team, it was decided that you were going to play ddakji. your mind drifted back to the other day. how innocent and unassuming the game seemed that night on the platform. you pushed yourself to your knees to get a better view.

ddakji, flying stone, gonggi, spinning top, and finally, jegi.

you sucked in a breath as you took it all in, thankful for the fact that your team hadn't been called to go up first, though the apprehension still found a way to creep in. your fingers twitched in your lap, shaking with steadily rising anxiety as you watched the clock. you fisted your hands into the material of your sweatpants in an attempt to still them, a shudder tearing through your body as the man in front of you messed up flying stone yet again.

next to you, dae-ho noticed.

"hey," he said, his voice firm but still gentle. you tore your eyes away from the track for a moment to return his gaze. at that, he leaned over and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. his touch was as light and soft as it was earlier, barely perceptible as he patted you. he pressed his lips into a thin, firm line before he nodded at you, just once. "we're gonna do just fine. don't worry too much." after a moment, he added, "plus you're with two ex-marines!" he furrowed his brows as he said it, pumping a singular fist in the air between the two of you with a solid look of determination on his face.

next to him, jung-bae leaned over, his face just as serious as he wrapped an arm around dae-ho, shaking him vigorously. "that's right! there's nothing a marine can't do."

they both looked at each other now, nodding their heads as if affirming each other's statements.

dae-ho turned back to you with a steady, unwavering gaze that you could only hope to return. his voice was confident and even as he spoke again, "you're in good hands with us, miss."

you breathed in again, giving him a small nod in lieu of a response, and for the first time that day, you almost felt like smiling.

somewhere in front of you, nam-gyu's neck was stiff with tension, struggling against the temptation to scan the faces behind him. he couldn't risk you seeing, couldn't risk you getting the outlandish idea that he gave a shit, not after you'd been so adamant about not looking at him—and yet, despite how badly he tried to focus on the track and preparing himself for spinning top, questions continued to fire mercilessly through his mind.

which track were you in? where were you sitting? which game were you going to play? would you go up first, or would he? and most importantly—who was in your team besides that guy you'd ran up to? his eye twitched, remembering. yeah. the guy with the stupid fucking ponytail.

he replayed the moment in his head over and over again, recounting that terrified, wide-eyed look that'd spread over your face at the sight of him, like seeing him again was somehow scarier than what the two of you had seen the other day.

in the time you'd been apart, he'd done a lot of thinking. about how long it'd take for you to crack and finally reach out to him. what you'd do when—not if—you saw him again. if you'd care. if you'd be happy. maybe even relieved.

it seemed like he got his answer, but he wasn't the least bit happy about it. he seethed in silent rage, nibbling anxiously at his lower lip as he desperately tried to maintain the casual slouch he was forcing himself into.

he didn't care.

really, he didn't.

next to him, thanos bobbed around to the soundtrack in his own head. nam-gyu watched him carefully out of the corners of his eyes, analyzing his face for a moment before dropping his gaze down to the cross that was no doubt dangling from his neck, hidden behind the zipper of his sweatshirt.

he'd seen it earlier—thanos hunched over on his bed as he delicately plucked a pill from his cross, tucking it away quickly the second nam-gyu'd asked about it. the image of the pills flitted across his mind, all colorful and round and tantalizing, and most importantly, swaying innocently back and forth less than a foot away.

nam-gyu swiped his tongue along the front of his teeth, temporarily broken out of his stupor by the possibility, the promise, that if he just played his cards right, he would be able to get high. would be able to drift away and get his mind off of everything. off of you. it definitely wouldn't be the first time he'd done so.

his eyes drifted back up to the big, digital clock hanging on the wall, and he watched with bated breath as it slowly wound down, each second feeling like a punch to the gut.

finally, it reached zero. neither team had made it to the end, though one of them had come tantalizingly close, all five of them standing just inches away from their life. the guards wasted no time as they stepped forward. nam-gyu knew what came next. everyone did, and yet, it didn't make it even the slightest bit easier to watch.

in an instant, the shots rang out, followed by the sickening thud of ten lifeless bodies hitting the ground.

for a second, his mind was blank, overtaken by the ice cold surge of fear taking over his system.

he clenched his hands into fists, his nails digging painfully into the meat of his palm as every cell in his body shook with unbridled fear.

it wasn't a question anymore. if the games didn't kill him, nam-gyu was certain that the anxiety fucking would. his stomach was doing somersaults, tying itself painfully into knots. he tore his eyes away from the track, from the bodies, and leaned towards thanos, a heat creeping up his neck as he grabbed him, desperate for something tangible to hold onto.

thanos barely acknowledged him, save for a curt glance and a sharp "what?"

nam-gyu swallowed his pride, forcing down the air catching in his throat as he spoke. he needed those fucking drugs, and he was going to get them.

it didn't take much convincing, thankfully. just a few words and a tug of his sleeve. the second thanos gave him that look, something akin to genuine concern—nam-gyu knew he had him.

and of course, less than a minute later, nam-gyu was eagerly crunching a bitter, chalky pill between his teeth. it was fast-acting, for sure, but the relief washed over the instant it hit his tongue. it hadn't even kicked in yet, but it didn't matter. just knowing that he had it was enough.

he'd get through this game. he'd get his damn money. then he'd get the fuck out.

once he did, he'd pay off his debt and start new, and you wouldn't even matter anymore. at least, that's what he told himself as he finally swallowed, feeling every last bit of the pill as it scratched its way down his throat.

he repeated it over and over in his mind like a mantra, as if saying it enough times would make it true. and yet, even as the drug started to settle in, even as the warmth pleasantly unfurled in his limbs, he knew, deep down, that it was bullshit.

a few more teams went up. most passed, thankfully. you tried not to think too hard about the ones that didn't.

every time you heard the ding, the signifier that a player had passed their game and could advance, you cheered, as did everyone else. the room was alive with a static kind of energy, lively and laced with an underlying apprehension. every time the players celebrated, the crowd whooped, jumping up and down and grabbing at each other wildly. next to you, dae-ho hollered, pumping his fists in the air as he cheered the next team on. he turned to look at you a few times, staring down at you with furrowed brows and that same strong sense of determination, like he was trying to convince you, and maybe even himself, that your team would be able to do just as well.

up until now, the teams had been made up of strangers, just nameless faces and fellow unfortunate souls—most of which, you'd likely never get to know.

when the next pair of teams were called up, your eyes followed the movement, watching as the next players took their place on the track. your stomach clenched when you saw him.

you noted the number on the back of nam-gyu's tracksuit, committing it to memory. 124. a morbid thought bubbled up to the forefront of your mind. no matter how you felt about him or what'd transpired between the two of you, you desperately hoped that this wouldn't be the last time you saw his number.

the air shifted just slightly, your tongue suddenly feeling too big for your mouth as you pressed yourself up on your knees, trying to get a better view, emboldened by the fact that you were hidden in the thrum of the crowd.

you watched as the guards approached, leaning down to get his team situated. the sound of their cuffs clicking into place sent a shudder through your body. based on their order, you knew that he was going to be playing spinning top.

he didn't look at you, not that he'd know where to look in the first place.

you narrowed your eyes, leaning forward as your eyes raked over him. his body appeared relaxed, almost too relaxed, but you knew better. if you knew nam-gyu at all, you were certain that there was no way he was capable of remaining completely calm in a situation like this. you continued to watch him, your eyes staring intently at his profile and at the stupid, dopey grin spreading across his face, his expression at complete odds with the situation at hand.

you balked a bit. how the hell was he smiling right now? he looked over at thanos, and you watched as they exchanged that same glossy, almost far-away look with each other before linking arms, jostling each other with the movement. nam-gyu rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, jumping up and down just slightly as a dazed laugh escaped his lips. he wobbled, and it almost looked like he was going to fall back, but he tightened his grip on thanos, pulling himself forward and correcting his balance.

thanos snapped him out of it, shaking him vigorously where their arms were linked as if trying to hype him up. "come on, bro! let's do this!" his voice was as loud as always, boisterous and confident, like there wasn't a doubt in his mind that they'd make it through the game. he had that same dopey smile on his face, one that matched nam-gyu's perfectly. you weren't sure if the sight comforted you or not.

the shorter teammate to his left struggled to stay upright in response to both of their erratic movements as they continued to jostle each other, giggling like kids. a small gasp left his lips as he tried not to fall, shifting his legs and leaning forward more to accomodate the weight of nam-gyu's arm slung across his shoulder. further down to his left, the one girl on his team rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the two of them with something you guessed was regret. the man at the far end looked more confused than anything.

you blinked. if you didn't know any better, you'd think nam-gyu was high. you'd seen him in that state more than enough times to know when he was. but... in here? how could he be?

suddenly, the gun shot sounded to signal the start of the game, interrupting your thoughts and pulling your attention back to the present. your breath caught as the five minute timer started to count down. without wasting another second, his team began to advance.

nam-gyu's first two teammates passed without a hitch.

his third teammate, mousy and skittish and uncertain, messed up gonggi once or twice, only to promptly face nam-gyu's onslaught of curses as he shook him back and forth with a vehement sneer, a display that made you wince. soon enough, he finally caught the five pieces, his palm turning up quickly to prove to the guards that he'd done it. the crowd—you included—breathed a collective sigh of relief that was followed by roaring cheers.

nam-gyu was next. the first time he went, he messed up. the top hit the ground with a snap. his throw was too rough, not the right angle, and it bounced up, coming back down with a plop as it sat motionless on the floor. you winced. every atom in your body was cheering for him, begging him to make it through.

as if getting revenge for her previous teammate, the girl reached out as soon as the top clattered pathetically to the floor, grabbing nam-gyu roughly by the collar and shaking him angrily. he didn't say anything as she cursed at him, just took it, his eyes wide as his chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths.

on his second attempt, despite the stupid way thanos was dancing next to him—an erratic purple blob invading his periphery—thank fucking god, he got it right.

the top shot out like a bullet, landed, and began to spin, smooth and quick.

a deep breath shuddered out of you as you watched him celebrate, his expression incredulous as relief washed over him. his legs shook wildly, almost buckling under his weight, and it looked like he was barely resisting the urge to jump up and down before he pulled himself back together. you felt something unclench in you at the sight.

thankfully, thanos passed his game on the first try, easily making up for the time his past two teammates had lost.

and just like that, nam-gyu's team was off the chopping block.

you watched nam-gyu's back as they walked away, emboldened by the fact that you were shielded by the crowd. if he turned around, he wouldn't be able to find you. it didn't end up mattering, though, because he disappeared into the exit without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

you sunk back down onto your knees and did your best to pretend that it didn't mean something to you.

in the dormitory, nam-gyu sat with his team, his legs pressed together, arms slung lazily across his lap, a mask of indifference plastered across his face.

he grinded his teeth behind his lips, his nails digging into the skin of his thighs over his sweatpants as he pretended like he wasn't waiting.

waiting for you.

he hadn't spoken too much since his team had passed and they'd arrived in the main room. he was too focused on not thinking about you, on not letting anyone see how much he wanted to know if you were still alive. the drugs had worn off a bit ago, bringing him back to the reality that he, unfortunately, gave a shit.

the very real possibility of the last time he ever saw you being him watching your back from a distance as you huddled closer to another man, looking up at him like he was your fucking savior, haunted him more and more with every team that passed through the door. and of course, it was every damn team but yours.

his tongue came out to swipe anxiously at his bottom lip before he caught it between his teeth, nibbling at it absent-mindedly as he fought the urge to get up and fucking scream.

and then—

the door opened its mouth yet again. he held his breath, waiting to see what it would spit out.

as if something up above had heard his silent, hesitant plea, you finally walked in a second later.

at the sight of you, his heart jumped, his whole body jolting with the instinct to move, to stand up, to go to you, to—

no.

he forced himself to relax, to exhale. his whole body locked up again as he slowly leaned back, like he hadn't just been seconds away from losing his mind.

as if to puncutate his thought process, the rest of your teammates followed, trailing behind you as they emerged from the door. nam-gyu felt his blood run cold, his whole body tightening as he watched him—that motherfucker—jog shamelessly to catch up with you. like he was your friend. like he had any business getting close to you. like he fucking knew you.

nam-gyu's eyes traced his every moment, eyes flicking between you and him. each time that his tiny ponytail bobbed, nam-gyu's rage only grew. he watched as he fell into an easy, casual step next to you, immediately grabbing your attention with a light tap to your shoulder. when you didn't shy away, didn't shrug it off, just let it rest there, nam-gyu's throat seized up. you looked up at him with relief, soft and gentle as you came down from the anxious nightmare that you'd all just walked out of. it made him sick, the way that you looked at him—this stranger, this intruder—with something almost akin to familiarity, as if he wasn't just some random guy that you'd only teamed up with because he just so happened to be the convenient choice. as if nam-gyu wasn't sitting right fucking there just across the room, basically begging you, daring you to acknowledge him.

he swallowed hard, flexing his fingers against his lap as he forced himself to exhale, to lean back like he wasn't barely resisting the urge to walk right up and rip you away from that loser.

he made sure to overcompensate. because he was fine. really, he was fine. and it had nothing to do with you, of course.

"fuck, way too many are still alive," nam-gyu huffed, forcing the sentence out as he let his head loll back lazily. he leaned further into the steps. his heart was still racing, fingers still twitching against his leg as he tried to appear casual.

but he was still watching.

out of the corner of his eye, he saw the way your shoulders were still tense, just slightly, but enough for him to catch. he saw the way you kept your gaze forward, rigid and stiff, like you didn't want to run the risk of accidentally looking at him.

and god—it pissed him off.

after he watched your back retreat into the bunks along with your team, he turned to his own teammate, min-su, the small one who'd played gonggi, pasuing for a moment before he opened his mouth to speak again.

he was fine.

and you were fine, too. like he gave a shit.

"hey. yo."

min-su's eyes snapped up to look at him as he hesitantly uncurled himself from his protective stance. he looked at him expectantly, movements uncertain and skittish.

"how many do you think are left?"

min-su blinked. "sorry?"

"i'm asking you, how many roaches do you think we have left in here?" he leaned forward, a sickly smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he pushed the words out, slow and gentle, as if he was speaking to a child.

he needed to regain his composure, needed to relax. the color was slowly returning to his face. he watched min-su bumble around, eyes searching the room as if calculating the number in his head.

across the room, your voice suddenly rose up above the rest. nam-gyu snapped to attention, mouth going slack. he pretended not to notice, pretended that he hadn't been listening for it this whole time.

he watched min-su's mouth move in response to his question, but he could barely hear him, now too busy trying to catch your words.

after a brief exchange, you'd come to know all of their names. gi-hun, jung-bae, young-il, and—the one that took you in—dae-ho. according to him, it meant "big tiger." cute.

"and you?" dae-ho asked, an expectant smile on his face that contrasted the tension permeating the room.

you said your name, and he repeated it back to you, nodding slowly as if he was committing it to memory.

"well, it's very nice to meet you. let's continue do our best," he said, a determined fist clenching in front of him as he turned to make eye contact with the whole team.

you hoped that even a fraction of his optimism would rub off on you.

during the brief conversation, you'd also learned that dae-ho was the only son for two generations and that it'd been his father's idea for him to join the marines. it felt nice, getting to know them. it made you feel a little less scared, like you had people you could rely on.

they all congratulated each other for their successful performance in the game, including you. your face flushed with the praise, a feeling of security falling over you like a blanket. you hoped it would last.

the pleasant exchange was interrupted by the sound of a loud, mechanical beep as the large door at the front of the room slid open. a group of guards stepped through, standing stiff and tall as they regarded everyone from their elevated position on the platform.

"congratulations to all of you for making it through the second game," the square guard spoke, their voice void of any emotion. "here are the results of the second game."

the guard raised an arm to the ceiling and clicked a button. the room darkened, the only light coming from the now-lit piggybank hanging from the ceiling. it cast a warm glow over the cold, sterile room, highlighting the shadows in everyone's face, the bags under their eyes. you watched with bated breath as money continued to drop in, your eyes widening as the digital jingle played in time with the numbers flashing on the main screen, the value climbing higher and higher.

"in the second game, 110 players were eliminated." the guard continued, explaining the new sum that would be split between the remaining players.

your chest tightened, something guilty and cold taking root in your heart as you processed the numbers laid out plainly for you to see. you made fists in the fabric of your sweats. it wasn't enough. not nearly enough. your mouth went dry as you listened to other players voice their anger and disbelief around you.

the square guard acknowledged their frustration, though they didn't dwell on it, pushing forward as they continue to speak, "you will now take a vote to decide whether to continue the games or not."

a hushed murmur buzzed through the crowd as everyone discussed with their respective teams and the loose alliances they'd formed over the past two days.

had it really only been two days? you felt like you'd been here for ages.

the guards wheeled out the voting booth once again. you picked at your nails, swallowed around the lump in your throat, and in an instant, just like before, you had your answer.

after a collective moment of silent deliberation, dae-ho spoke behind you, "i'm telling you. we'll get out this time." you turned to look at him, at the way he huffed in frustration, gripping the blue patch on his chest before letting it fall from his hands, staring at it like it'd personally offended him. "damn it. a marine should think strategically and know when to retreat." his voice was confident, so matter-of-fact, like nothing could change his mind.

in front of him, you felt the cold trickle of guilt run down your spine. because you knew exactly what you were going to do. you had to.

you whispered something to yourself, adding up the numbers in your head over and over again as if it'd somehow change the reality that no matter what, it just wouldn't be enough. you'd almost died twice, and it still wouldn't mean a thing if you stopped now. next to you, jung-bae did the same.

"we have to end the games here." gi-hun nodded at all of you, like he needed you all to understand. "i will help you guys out when we get out. please. trust me and support this vote." his voice was firm. a promise.

"guys, all huddle up again," dae-ho said, nodding next to you with a bright, expectant smile spread across his face. the sight made you nauseous. he stuck his arm out in the center of your circle, his eyes flicking between you and jung-bae expectantly, a determined glimmer in his eyes.

he hesitated, as did you. you saw. the two of you exchanged a look that the others didn't seem to catch, but nonetheless, you both put your hands in the circle at the same time, your mouth going dry as you failed to return dae-ho's enthusiasm.

he perked up as the final hand entered the middle of the huddle. "in 1, 2, 3..." he pushed your hands up in the air with a flourish. "victory at all costs!"

you swallowed as you let your hand fall limply to your side, staring intently at the floor. the gesture was cute, reassuring, but you knew damn well that it'd done absolutely nothing to change your mind.

unfortunately for you, you were the second one out of your team who was called up to place your vote. you followed young-il, who had voted to leave.

your whole team watched your back expectantly, as did nam-gyu. he was standing at the back of the room, waiting patiently for his turn, his whole body taut and rife with tension.

after only a moment's hestiation, you decided to just rip the bandaid off. you slammed the 'o' button quickly, as if doing it fast enough would prevent your team from seeing your betrayal.

you sucked in a breath as your face lit up with a flash of blue. you shrunk away from the voting booth in shame, retreating sheepishly towards the 'o' side. you couldn't bring yourself to look at the others.

watching you from just a few feet away, nam-gyu let out a shuddery breath, almost amused. it turned out that you hadn't been completely brainwashed by your team, after all.

his turn came and went. he hit the 'o' button without another thought, staring you down the whole time as he walked over and took his position with the others that'd voted to continue. you held his gaze for a few seconds before turning away, suddenly annoyed at the fact that whether you liked it or not, the two of you had agreed on something.

soon enough, the vote had ended.

"based on the majority vote, we'll proceed to the third game tomorrow," the guard announced.

the dormitory was quiet, the atmosphere heavier than before, weighed down by the betrayal displayed through the patch on your chest. the food in your hands didn't really help despite the hunger gnawing at your stomach. you toed at the ground with your shoe, feeling ashamed. but you couldn't go home. not with that money. it wouldn't have made a dent.

your own arguments died on your tongue as you looked up from the floor, chancing a glance over your shoulder where the others were eating. dae-ho caught your eyes. he'd already been looking at you, at jung-bae. you quickly snapped your head back into place. heat rose to your cheeks as you clenched your fists in your lap.

next to you, jung-bae cleared his throat. "you voted to stay, right?"

you nodded stiffly, flicking at a loose thread on your sweatshirt. "yeah."

he exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. "same."

no one else spoke.

you turned to steal another glance at dae-ho, but in that moment, he was already stomping over to the both of you, catching you in the act again.

he called out your names, a hint of frustration in his voice as he regarded the two of you. "hey. just come sit with us already."

"no, really, i'm fine right here," jung-bae mumbled. you could tell he wasn't.

"me too," you added weakly.

"oh, come on."

you watched as dae-ho practically hauled jung-bae to his feet, forcing him up before pushing him forward, not like he was putting up much of a fight.

then, dae-ho looked at you, his expression unreadable. you thought you saw a hint of disappointment there, and it made your chest sting.

then, there was a gentle hand at your side, tugging lightly at your sleeve and signalling you to get up.

"dae-ho," you sighed, feeling guilty for saying his name after what you did. "i'd really rather just sit right here."

jung-bae nodded quickly in agreement, but dae-ho continued to push him forward.

"then you two should've sat further away," he huffed.

dae-ho led jung-bae away, depositing him by the others roughly.

"it bugs me to see you sitting there so pathetically!" he said again, pausing for just a moment before he turned back to retrieve you.

his footsteps were softer as he approached for the second time, and your mouth was already forming an apology when he squatted down next to you.

he put up a hand, waving you off. "don't. it's okay," he sighed, as if he was already anticipating what you were going to say. he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. his touch was light as he patted you. "to be honest with you—the both of you—i, um. i get why you did it."

you let out a shaky breath, the guilt still weighing heavy in your chest.

when you didn't respond, he cleared his throat, lips tight as he stared at the ground in front of you. "the money wasn't enough for you, right?"

you nodded dumbly. "yeah."

you saw him nod back gently in your periphery. "the money isn't enough for me either, so when i went up to vote," he paused, his expression tight and laced with guilt as he put up a finger, "i did think about playing one more game."

you turned to him, finally letting yourself meet his eyes. slowly, you nodded back to him, thankful for his understanding, for his sensitivity, as he regarded you.

he stared back at you softly, and it made you feel warm, his comfort coming with a gentle ease. you gave him a smile, and he returned it, the moment passing between the two of you fondly. on your shoulder, he finally let the weight of his hand rest fully onto you. he gave you a reassuring squeeze that made your heart jump a little.

"i'm not sure what your situation is," he put his his hands up in the air at that, "and, of course, you don't have to tell me. i won't pry. but no matter what happens in the next game—or, uh, if there's any games after that—just... know that we'll be here for you to lean on. we'll all lean on each other as a team, and then we'll get through this, okay?"

you exhaled sharply through your nose, taking in the sincerity of his words before you responded, "thank you. really. thank you." something in you wanted to reach out and hug him. "thank you for understanding."

dae-ho opened his mouth to respond, to reassure you that there was nothing to thank him for, but then—

"hey!" jung-bae called from behind the two of you, his arms crossed grumpily when you both turned to look at him. "where's my comfort? i voted to continue, too, you know!"

behind him, gi-hun and young-il were huddled together, tight-lipped and faces blank as they watched the three of you. you felt yourself clam up again, the guilt creeping back in under the weight of their stare, under the knowledge that they'd taken you in so kindly, and you betrayed them.

dae-ho cleared his throat again, patting you once more as he rose to his feet. "come on," he said softly, the moment lost as he gestured for you to stand.

he held out a hand, and you took it, rising slowly to your feet as you steeled yourself to face the others. you hesitated, but then dae-ho's hand was pressing gently at the middle of your back, pushing you forward so you couldn't change your mind.

he leaned down so he was next to your ear, voice dropping to a whisper. "hey. the two of them might look mad right now, but i know they'll understand." he pressed his lips together as you finally stepped forward. "i'm here, too, okay?" he added quickly. "don't forget what i said. we're a team."

"thanks, dae-ho," you whispered back.

he smiled. "anytime."

you let dae-ho lead you to them, his hand finally dropping from your back as you came to a stop in front of the rest of your team. you regarded them with a duck of your head and quick apology.

soon, all of you were sitting next to each other again, the five of you silent as the group reestablished itself. you picked at your bread, not quite ready to eat. instead, you watched the back of dae-ho's head as he chewed, a small fondness blooming in your chest at your newfound friend.

nam-gyu watched the entire interaction from across the room, jaw clenched so tight that he might crack a tooth. his eyes were wide and unblinking, almost burning with the intensity that he was staring the two of you down with.

his fingers tapped against his knee, sharp, restless movements, a stark contrast to the relaxed slouch he was forcing himself into.

what the fuck was that?

his eyes burned as they stayed locked onto you and dae-ho. he watched you as you finally opened up your bread, chewing slowly. in front of you, dae-ho seemed to remember something before turning around and catching your attention.

he spoke. you laughed. a real laugh, not a forced one. and he saw it, the way that you leaned in just slightly, like you actually gave a shit about what he said, the way dae-ho had looked at you—was still looking at you—like you were someone he wanted to protect.

his hand on your shoulder. on your back. his face pressed right next to yours as he whispered something, low and inaudible.

it was unbearable.

it was fucking humiliating.

and yet, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

even now, you still hadn't made an attempt to search the room, to try and find him in the crowd.

she was mine.

the thought bubbled to the surface before he could stop it, before he could squish it down and pretend that this didn't matter, that you didn't matter.

he hated how pathetic the thought sounded, wincing at it even though it only existed in the privacy of his own head.

still, it wasn't wrong. you had been his. he'd been yours. maybe he still was. and now? now you were sitting next to some random guy, talking, laughing, staring down at him like nam-gyu never even existed.

and the worst part? he couldn't do shit about it.

not in front of all these people.

not when he was supposed to be acting like he didn't care.

from here, he was able to get the full view of your team. and of course, just his luck, the guy that'd shut down thanos, that'd kicked him to the ground in front of everyone—in front of you—was sitting at the very back of the group, like some kind of guard dog.

his fingers curled into fists.

"oi, nam-su," a voice interrupted.

he barely registered it at first, but then thanos clapped a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts.

nam-gyu forced himself to glance up, schooling his face into something neutral, so lost and disoriented from the sickening display before him that he didn't even notice that thanos had fucked up his name. again. "huh?"

thanos was looking at him like he'd been talking for a while. "you even listening? i said mg coin's full of shit."

nam-gyu followed his gaze. mg coin—myung-gi—whatever, was sitting with his own team, laughing about something.

thanos sneered. "look at him. laughing like he has the right to. like he didn't fuck me over." he nodded at nam-gyu, eyes lingering on myung-gi before finally turning to him. "let's jump him," he muttered. "but not when that fucker's looking." he looked up again, gesturing with his chin across the room. nam-gyu turned, eyes landing on your corner yet again, at the old man that'd stopped them the first time they tried to get back at myung-gi.

nam-gyu just nodded absently, his mind still somewhere else.

it took a moment to realize something, his eyes drifting back down to dae-ho—this was the perfect opportunity.

if he could get thanos on his side, maybe he could get rid of dae-ho, break him down and convince him to stay the fuck away from you. he wasn't sure exactly how he'd do it, but it was a start. two people were always going to be better than one.

he straightened, his gaze darkening as he leaned forward, scooting closer to thanos.

"hey," he said, tone casual. "you know that guy in front of him? the one with the ponytail who's choking down his bread like a pig?" nam-gyu gestured with his neck, maintaining eye contact with thanos.

thanos raised a brow, eyes flicking down to nam-gyu and then back up again. "what about him?"

nam-gyu exhaled sharply, shaking his head and forcing some frustration in his voice. "he's annoying as hell. i was listening to him earlier when he was talking to his team. looks like he's all buddy-buddy with those old guys." he nibbled his lip, trying to figure out how he could spin this, how he could get thanos to hate him, too. "including the one that was giving you shit earlier." thanos narrowed his eyes at that, showing that he was listening but not exactly following. "the dude thinks he's hot shit just because he was in the fucking marines, or whatever."

thanos hummed in acknowledgement, unimpressed. "yeah? so?"

nam-gyu floundered, wires crossing in his brain. he was losing him. he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so the others couldn't hear, a last ditch effort. "i don't trust him. he's always trying to act all high and mighty, all noble and shit, like he's better than us. like he's not just as fucked as we are."

thanos didn't look convinced. he shrugged, leaning back against the bed rail. in that moment, nam-gyu knew he lost him.

"he's just some guy. who cares?" thanos turned his head in dismissal, his gaze straying to myung-gi yet again. nam-gyu watched his face shift into something hateful and mean.

the sentiment was right, but it was aimed at the wrong target.

nam-gyu grit his teeth, fingers twitching against his knee.

he wanted thanos to fucking care.

wanted thanos to hate dae-ho as much as he suddenly, violently, and irrationally did.

but thanos wasn't biting.

his focus was elsewhere—on myung-gi, on his own anger, his own grudges. sure, nam-gyu was pissed at myung-gi, too, hated him, even, but at least myung-gi wasn't out here whispering in your ear, staring at you all sweet and kind, acting like he had the right to touch you. the thought made his blood boil all over again.

one last attempt rose from his lips like a signal flare. it sounded stupid in his head, but he had to try.

"he said your hair was stupid," nam-gyu blurted out. his voice was at a normal volume this time, and the rest of his team looked over, confused.

at that, thanos's head snapped back, his eyebrows going up again. "he did?"

nam-gyu nodded wildly. "yeah, yeah, he did. he was laughing with that old dude, and everything." after a pause, he quickly added, "when you weren't listening, i heard it. they were all making fun of you, that guy especially. i would've said something, but—"

thanos silenced him with a hand, and for a moment, it just hung in the air. nam-gyu held his breath. then, both of his hands came up to frame both sides of his hair, fingers going up to shape the purple strands back up into place, like little horns.

"no one," he started, a little frown coming to tug at his lips, "makes fun of thanos the great's hair."

holy shit.

nam-gyu bit back a smile, trying not to seem as excited as he was. "yeah, i agree." he gestured with his head again, his hair whipping around his face with the wild, sudden movement. "wanna jump him, too?"

thanos brushed him off, still fixing his hair. maybe he'd pushed just a bit too far just a bit too soon.

"relax, nam-su." he was still watching myung-gi out of the corner of his eye, neck flexing tight with tension once again at the mere sight of him. "i've got some other shit to worry about, right now."

"nam-gyu," he muttered.

it looked like he had no choice but to drop it. for now.

but his mind was already racing, already plotting.

he didn't know how yet, didn't know when—but he was gonna get you away from dae-ho. one way or another.

the men's bathroom was full, accompanied by the expected din of streams hitting porcelain, stall doors slamming shut, and toilets flushing. a little pocket of normalcy amidst the chaos.

myung-gi stared down, concentrated on his task. then, he felt it.

a presence.

three, actually.

he barely had time to register the movement before thanos and nam-gyu stepped in on either side of him, boxing him in at the urinal. behind him, gyeong-su stood with his arms at his sides, silent and uncertain, but still present.

myung-gi pressed his lips together tightly, the air suddenly turning suffocating.

it didn't take much guessing to know where this interaction was going to go. there was an exchange of words, of uncomfortable stares, of barely disguised aggression—mostly on thanos's part—and then, finally, in a sudden burst of anger, thanos was slamming myung-gi against the tile, his other arm reeled back and ready to go.

"you son of a bitch. got a death wish?"

nam-gyu watched it happen from a distance, a little bit of his earlier frustration slipping away at the sight of myung-gi getting tormented.

then, as if on cue, the entrance to the bathroom opened, and—of fucking course. he was there.

a tiny little ponytail bobbed into view, perched perfectly at the top of his head.

nam-gyu's eye twitched.

"i didn't even eat anything, so why..." jung-bae trailed off, young-il and dae-ho following behind him.

thanos stopped, eyes instantly locking with young-il's. the latter regarded him sternly. a silent challenge. thanos was an absolute moron, sure, but he knew when to call it quits.

he stood there for a few moments, gripping myung-gi with a tightness that said this wasn't over, eyes glaring daggers into his face one last time before shoving him back. his body jerked, but he held thanos's gaze, chest heaving as he watched him turn away.

"i'm watching you," thanos muttered in english, lips tight with anger.

nam-gyu lingered for a moment as he watched the exchange, unwilling to move just yet.

his eyes flitted right to dae-ho, to the way he was staring at him and thanos, like they were beneath him. like they were scum. like he was gonna fucking do something about it.

thanos took a few casual step forward, retreating. then, he paused, eyes landing on dae-ho. his mind buffered for a moment, as if recalling something.

there was a flash of recognition as his peanut brain grasped at a memory, at what nam-gyu had said less than thirty minutes ago. at that, he leaned backwards just slightly, giving himself enough space to size dae-ho up with a lazy flick of his eyes. their heights were matched, perfectly at eye level with each other.

in front of him, dae-ho straightened, standing up just a little taller, as if anticipating a fight. jung-bae and young-il watched, eyes narrowed and muscles taut, unsure of what to expect in the coming moments.

then—

"tch," thanos clicked his tongue, cutting through the tension. he regarded dae-ho with a flippant look as he tilted his head, unimpressed. "so. you're the one whose got some shit to say about my hair, huh?"

dae-ho balked, confusion leaking into his expression. the others looked just as confused, save for nam-gyu. whatever they all thought thanos was going to say, it definitely wasn't that.

the silence stretched for a few beats too long, and it struck dae-ho that it was his turn to speak, but he wasn't sure what the hell he was supposed to say to that.

his voice came out awkward, the tension that'd been simmering in his muscles just moments before fizzling out with nowhere to go. "um... no?"

"you think you can switch up the story now that i'm standing right in front of you?" thanos shook his head, his jaw tight and indignant as he pointed over to nam-gyu and gyeong-su. at that, nam-gyu tensed, exchanging a look with dae-ho for the first time ever. caught in a lie. he hadn't expected thanos to supply dae-ho with a source. "my bro told me everything, so don't even try it." he scoffed. "do you know who i am, man?" he pressed closer into dae-ho's space, but dae-ho didn't tense, just glanced between them incredulously, like they'd suddenly grown an extra head.

to nam-gyu's left, gyeong-su decided to speak for the first time in this whole bathroom exchange, answering the question for dae-ho. "he's thanos, the rapper!" his voice went up a few octaves at the opportunity, almost excited as he moved his hands and started to rap for the second time that day. "i'm gonna kill half of humanity with my raps—"

nam-gyu quickly silenced him—again—with a quick tap to the shoulder.

thanos paid them no mind, just shook his head as he narrowed his eyes at dae-ho, judging him. his hand came up to quickly flick at a flyaway strand of hair by dae-ho's brow, making him flinch just slightly, though it was out of surprise rather than fear.

"sloppy," thanos said in english. "worry about yourself before you say anything about me." then, after a a moment, he pointed at him, a ringed finger waggling just inches away from his face. "i'm watching you, too."

then, without another word, he pushed his way through the door.

nam-gyu watched him go. it was his cue to leave, too. he walked over, forcing his back up straighter, trying to appear bigger and taller than he really was. he locked eyes with dae-ho, a sneer plastered across his face, a clear display of his hatred. there was no hiding it now, anyways, what with the way thanos had outed him as a liar that made shit up for his own gain.

dae-ho narrowed his eyes in confusion, opened his mouth as if to speak, to question where the hell this was all coming from.

nam-gyu hated it, the way he was looking at him, the way he'd been looking at you, and most of all, fuck, he hated that stupid. fucking. ponytail.

he bet that dae-ho thought it was cute, too, thought he was so fucking different.

big fucking deal.

he wasn't special. nam-gyu's hair was long enough to put into a ponytail, too. not like you'd ever fucking asked him to. but he would. all you had to do was ask.

but you were too busy drooling over dae-ho to do so.

and somehow, despite it all, despite all the things that'd been piling up throughout the day, simmering just beneath the surface and boiling his blood, that was the thought that really sent him over the edge. it was irrational, stupid, pathetic, really, just how jealous he was over absolutely nothing.

just before dae-ho could speak, nam-gyu made sure to shove into him—hard.

the impact was enough to send dae-ho stumbling, his back hitting the wall with an audible thump.

for a moment, the bathroom went completely still.

dae-ho blinked, his expression shocked, like he wasnt' sure if that really just happened.

nam-gyu didn't stop to look back.

he just walked out, feeling a sick, burning satisfaction settling deep in his chest. gyeong-su trailed quickly after him, eager to catch up to thanos, a confused, shocked expression on his face that mirrored dae-ho's perfectly.

dae-ho stayed against the wall for a second, like he was still processing it. the weight of nam-gyu's deliberate shove lingered on his chest, not physically painful but unmistakably intentional.

and earlier—thanos had accused dae-ho of insulting him, said he'd heard it from his 'bro.' based on nam-gyu and gyeong-su's body language, it was pretty easy for him to deduce who thanos had been referring to.

but... why?

next to him, jung-bae frowned. "what the hell was that about?"

dae-ho shook his head, straightening up as he brushed himself off. his fingers flexed at his sides, like he was working through the instinct to retaliate. "i don't know," he muttered. "guess he just doesn't like me."

myung-gi, still standing in front of them, watched the door where nam-gyu and thanos disappeared, though he didn't say anything.

"are those guys still bullying you?" jung-bae asked.

"hey," dae-ho started, pushing forward so he was right in front of myung-gi. "if those guys keep doing that, you can ask us for our help." clearly, they'd even decided to start bullying him, too.

"i'm fine," he replied, eyebrows going up before he turned away.

and just like that, it ended, the former excitement simmering down slowly. the crowd slowly dispersed, and soon the normal bathroom activites continued, acclimating around the sudden interruption.

dae-ho stood at a urinal, mind still reeling from confusion, from frustration. what the hell had he done to those guys? he knew he should let it go—ignore it, not let them get under his skin. but the way nam-gyu had clearly lied to thanos to stir something up, the way he'd looked at him before shoving him with nothing but sheer bitterness in his eyes—it was too much for him to pass off as random.

it was personal.

and dae-ho had no idea why.

meanwhile, nam-gyu walked ahead of gyeong-su, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, fingers curling and uncurling around nothing as he made his way back to the rest of their team.

he glanced over to your corner for just a second.

you saw him. he saw you.

his lips twitched just a fraction before he sat down, forcing himself to look at the ground.

when dae-ho emerged from the bathroom, his mind was still reeling with unresolved tension. he walked up to you and gi-hun, young-il and jung-bae in tow.

he was still thinking about it.

you looked up at him with a polite smile. "hey."

"hey," he returned, sounding far away.

you blinked, confused by his sudden shift in demeanor. "you okay?"

he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he brushed back a strand—the same strand that thanos had flicked just moments earlier.

"actually," he started, turning to look at nam-gyu. he leaned towards you, taking his seat before dropping his voice to a whisper. "that guy, right there."

dae-ho pointed gingerly, careful not to be too obvious. your eyes traced the path of his finger, breath catching as you realized who he was referring to.

your stomach clenched. what did he do?

he waited for your acknowledgement. when it didn't come, he continued, "uh, the guy with the long hair, mean face, 124 on his shirt—"

"yeah," you mumbled, waving him along. "i see him."

dae-ho nodded, though you didn't see, too focused on nam-gyu. he was slouched over by his team, arms crossed casually as he leaned back against the steps.

"i think he's got something against me." he gestured with his chin, his voice wary. "his friend, too. the rapper guy."

"uh-huh."

dae-ho shook his head, throwing his hands up in frustration. "i've never even talked to them. i don't know what the hell i did to make them hate me." he turned to you. "124... do you know his name?"

"nam-gyu." his name instantly fell from your lips before you could stop it, before you could feign ignorance. you quickly recovered. "or. that's... what i've heard," you mumbled. "i'm pretty sure that's his name, though."

dae-ho nodded. if he noticed your sudden unease, he didn't say anything. "nam-gyu," he repeated, eyes narrowing as he stared at him.

you cleared your throat, trying to sound casual, like you were just curious. nothing more. you brought a hand up to your face, covering your mouth before you spoke. "so, uh. what'd he do?"

"he shoved me. for no reason! i didn't even say anything." dae-ho shook his head, remembering. he continued, "and apparently he told his friend that i made fun of his hair." you raised an eyebrow at that. "i would never make fun of his hair. i mean, my older sister colored hers purple two years ago." dae-ho clicked his tongue, brows furrowing as he pouted. "i thought it looked cool."

you were thankful for the hand covering your mouth, because as soon as he finished, you were struggling to bite back a laugh.

despite how well he seemed to hide it, how well he seemed to pretend that he didn't care, nam-gyu was watching you. watching him. sitting there, stewing in silent anger, even if he wouldn't let it show.

even after all this time.

what a petty asshole.

and the fact that a small part of you liked it—knowing that he still cared enough about you to do childish shit like this? oh, it made you sick.

the room eventually settled into an uneasy quiet as the guards ordered the players to prepare for sleep.

soon enough, the overhead lights dimmed, leaving a faint, eerie glow behind.

time passed. minutes stretched into an hour.

you stared up at the bottom of the bed, exhaustion weighing heavy on your bones, but sleep still didn't come easy. gi-hun had insisted all of you sleep this way, beneath a bed and behind a fortress of mattresses. someone always had to be keeping watch.

you were busy thinking about how silly it seemed when it suddenly struck you—you really, really needed to pee.

lucky you.

you shifted uncomfortably, trying to will the feeling away.

when you failed to do so, you let out a sigh of defeat before pushing yourself up by your elbows. you peered over from under your bed. it was dae-ho’s turn to watch. you still didn’t understand why it was necessary, but you decided not to question it.

you quietly got up, gently tapping dae-ho on the shoulder so as not to startle him.

he looked up at you, a bit surprised. the sharpness of his cheekbones highlighted by the dim glow of the piggy bank.

“going to the bathroom,” you whispered, mouthing the words more than anything.

“oh, uh, let me accompany you—“ dae-ho made a move to stand up, but you stopped him.

“no, it’s okay.” you smiled. “thank you, though.” you didn’t want to bother him.

he paused, searching your face with uncertainty, like he was debating whether or not it was really 'okay'. “are you sure? it could be dangerous walking around alone right now. i don't think it's safe for you to go alone.”

“please, don't worry. i’m sure." you were certain you could, at the very least, handle a trip to the bathroom, though you definitely appreciated the gesture.

after a pause, he nodded, albeit still hesitant. "okay. be careful."

you laughed lightly. "sure. i'll try not to drown in the toilet."

that earned you a soft, sheepish smile, but after a moment, dae-ho furrowed his brows, showing you that he still meant it. "come on, i'm serious. gi-hun seemed serious about all of this." he gestured around at the mattresses boxing your team in.

you waved him off. "i'll be careful."

he finally let you go. slowly, you made your way to the door, not wanting to disturb the other players.

you knocked gently on the door. when no response came, you knocked again, more forceful this time, though you winced with each sound.

finally, you came face-to-face with a guard.

“i need to go to the bathroom.”

the black mask stared wordlessly back at you. as the silence stretched on for too long, you felt a prickle of anxiety.

there was no way they weren’t going to let you go to the bathroom, right?

your question was promptly answered with a smooth click as the guard slid the peephole shut. you stood there, mouth agape and eyes wide with indignance. a beat or two passed, just enough time for your anger to build. all discretions gone, you exhaled sharply and banged on the door, no longer wincing with every loud sound that echoed through the dormitory.

you could’ve died twice.

you weren't about to let them bully you into fucking pissing yourself.

“hey, what the hell?” your voice rose, tinged with anger and disbelief. “are you just gonna leave me out here?” once again, the only answer to your disdain was an oppressive silence. “fuck.” you hissed under your breath, your body shaking with barely contained anger. “fine. if you won’t let me go to the bathroom, i guess I’ll just do it out here—“

when the door suddenly slid open, you flinched, stunned for a moment as the blinding light flooded your vision. it seemed that your comment had gotten to the guard, after all. you recovered quickly and smiled at the expressionless black mask staring back at you, feeling more than a little triumphant. you moved quickly, feet crossing the threshold with your nose in the air.

you climbed the stairs quickly, desperate to get in and out.

the entrance to the women's bathroom came into view, and you let out an audible sigh as you pushed through.

you were barely through the door when you felt it—a sudden rush of contact at your back as you were practically shoved inside. you stumbled, gasping as a cold hand gripped at the back of your tracksuit.

your heart raced, sweat prickling the back of your neck as panic bloomed in your chest. you had been careful not to piss anyone off. you hadn’t talked to anyone outside of your team, really. there was no one who had a reason to be shoving you like this, to be following you. no one except—

you whipped around quickly, jerking out of the person’s hold and stumbling a bit as you struggled to keep your balance in light of the sudden unease overtaking your system.

you opened your mouth to speak, to yell, but everything you might’ve thought to say immediately died on your tongue.

nam-gyu’s eyes were intense, filled with a swirl of emotions as he fixed you with a hardened stare. his breathing was measured and even, hands hanging casually at his sides.

“hey.”

his voice was rough, gravelly. deep. a sound that cut right through you and settled into your bones. and for the first time in forever, his words were directed at you. not overheard from a distance or relayed through a third party. it was just you and him in this shitty bathroom in the middle of god knows where.

your mind went blank, your tongue suddenly feeling too big for your mouth as you stared at him, lips slightly parted as you struggled to form thoughts.

“what?” his mouth twitched. almost a smirk, almost a sneer, but he kept his face neutral, not wanting to betray his emotions just yet. “not gonna say hi?” you saw his fingers curl and uncurl around nothing at his sides. he'd never been good at staying still for too long.

he was right, though.

you weren’t gonna fucking say ‘hi.’

© to @namgyunation on tumblr; do not repost

ao3 link, if you’d prefer to read it over there

a/n: part two coming (hopefully) soon. as always my inbox is open for any thoughts, comments, rqs, etc.!!!! also, i was going nuts watching episode 4 and 5 over and over again so i could get the canon interactions and dialogue right LMAO. also. in-ho is referred to as young-il in this fic and will continue to be, bc he's just not really relevant to the plot and ik y'all know who he really is ok....

[kabr0ztrousers]

OUGH that bugfic was plenty dark, thank you for your excellent work 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

also had another idea! fem!reader somehow finds herself as the stress-relief chew toy for an all male clan of Gnolls 👀 they were cast out by the matriarchs of their previous clans years ago, so they haven’t fucked in ages and are super pent up. she has a bad time at first, coming to terms with the fact that she belongs to them and she’ll never know the taste of freedom again, but eventually they break her, and she wouldn’t leave her new masters for anything in the world. if you have any ideas or alterations in mind, go wild!! i’d love to see what you come up with!

Kabr0z Writes episode 67: Chew Toy

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: Noncon; kidnap; group sex; impregnation; knotting; corruption;

A/N: There's currently 42 requests in the queue, mixed in with the odd miscellaneous ask I'm not sure what to do with 😁

As always, please direct any requests to my ask box and they'll get written when they hit the top of the list

######################################

Cultists raided the caravan. You were about 3 days out of Baldur's Gate headed south along the Sword Coast to Candlekeep when they attacked. Most of the group were captured, awaiting god knows what fate if you don't find a town with an Adventurer's Guild desk and get help. With any luck, the dirt road you're walking will lead to civilization and not some lost city or long-forgotten tomb

Hell, if you did find one of those, there's an even to good chance you'll find a party of adventurers there anyway. It's not like adventuring parties are hard to find, there's normally at least four per tavern.

The road came to an end at a cave. Because of course it did. You sighed and steeled yourself, this is precisely the kind of place you'll go to find a fighter, cleric, mage and/or rogue looking to seek fortune and fame. All you had to do was take those first steps into the scary cave.

The cave smelled of blood, and rotting meat. Not necessarily a bad sign. Nor were the wooden stakes driven into the ground in places, or the gnawed bones lying around. If anything that raised your hopes, an empty cave is just a cave, this is positively bait for a team of idealists hoping to make their name.

You went on, keeping to the shadows as you snuck in. This place defi isn't a goblin cave, there's no cookfires. Not an owlbear, there's too much worked material. A cackling, barking laugh answered your question.

Gnolls. Hyena-people, as big as an orc.

Sure enough, around the corner you saw a couple of gnolls wrestling. As big as the stories said, dressed in rags and furs, flint axes lying forgotten on the floor as they tried to grapple one another into submission.

Ok, some gnolls, but no heroes to beg for help. Not ideal, but at least you hadn't been seen. You stepped backwards, turning for the cave mouth. And stepped straight into a gnoll behind you.

The canine brute grabbed you and barreled forwards, yipping in excitement "Girl-thing! Yes! Yes!"

The others looked over to him, the two who were sparring broke from each other, the larger pawing over to you "Not us. Not replace. Need mother-leader"

The one holding you tore off your skirt "Not mother-leader. Woman. Fertile. Make new."

The big gnoll inspected you, sniffing your hair before grabbing a fistful and pulling it back to push his face into yours. He smelled of rotting meat and matted fur, an undercurrent of thick musk wafting from him "Have to do. Hold girl-thing. I go first."

The big gnoll grabbed your tit, squeezing hard and making you gasp. You tried to struggle and squirm against the grip of the one behind you as a clawed hand rubbed your folds. Wetness spread over your lower lips even as you tried to stop it. You were at odds with your body, praying to the gods these gnolls wouldn't get to have their way with you as your cunt invited him in.

"Girl-thing is ready." The big one put his slimy hand to his nose, sniffing it "Smells good. Bear lots of pups"

A blunt object pressed up against your cunt. You closed your eyes, pretending you were anywhere but here as it slipped in, the gnoll growling with satisfaction as he sank into your loins.

He sped up, grabbing you off the scrawny one, holding you up by your hips, arms under your knees, keeping you open.

He pressed you against a wall, pounding into your soaking cunt, the sound of your pussy being violated almost drowning out your sobs as you felt the leaking cock pushing up inside you.

You cried out as he hilted himself in you, the knot at the base of his cock expanding to trap you together as he stuck his tongue down your throat. His cum started to fill you up, the heat spreading through you as you stayed locked together.

He was still humping, even as he panted and spurted, the thick knot sending waves of pressure through you, bouncing between your cervix and your entrance. You could feel it pressing up against the inner parts of your clit, forcing against your g-spot. Your legs started to shake, your abs clench, and your hands grip the rough fur of the gnoll railing you as you came to your first wailing orgasm.

He howled as your pussy clenched and squeezed, milking him inside you. You didn't want to enjoy it, being fucked by this stinking brute, but you couldn't help but let a moan escape your lips as you humped into him, grinding your hips against his.

The knot popped out of you, the alpha gnoll dropping you as the next stepped up, the scrawny one this time.

He turned you onto your front, lifting your hips as your face ground into the dirt. No need for foreplay this time; your slobbering, open cunt welcomed his cock as he started thrusting. He was a little smaller than the first, but not by much. If he were a human, he'd still be considered amazingly well-endowed.

Your hand moved on its own, rubbing your clit as he fucked you, your hips rolling and waving against him as your mouth opened to allow whines and gasps of animal lust escape you. Again, a knot swelled up inside you as the second load of hyena-man cum pulsed into you. Your toes curled as you rubbed yourself harder, cresting the peak of another orgasm.

You ached. Your pussy was raw and punished, stretched and twitching as the second knot pulled from you and the third one took its place. You didn't even have enough energy now to moan. You just lay there, hindquarters presented an dripping cum as beast after beast took their turn on you. By the time the last male had pulled out, the alpha was ready for a second helping.

Round and around they went, filling you with a mix of potent cum, taking out their frustrations on you. By the time they were done you couldn't move, sprawled drooling and leaking on the cave floor, short breaths and sporadic twitching the only clues to your continued life.

Gnoll cubs come fast, within weeks of daily treatment you were already visibly pregnant. The pack was gentler with you now, you smelled like them and they could see you were carrying their young.

By the time you were halfway along, the former alpha was curled at your seat. Your hand idly scratching behind his ear as you watched your pack spar and bring home the hunt. They still hadn't figured out how to maintain a cookfire, and teaching them which wood was good for burning was tricky, but they just need a strong woman's hand to guide them.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know there's a reason you came here... It doesn't matter now.

You've got a pack to lead.

####################################

Sorry this one was late! Shit happened last night and left me in no mood to write, so we're getting another Sunday double-bill.

Also meant I could put my whole pussy into this one, so to speak, so not all bad.

I was gonna have this one ending worse for Fem!Reader, but it felt better to invert the power dynamic at the end (plus I love gnolls as a player race in D&D and their equivalent in PF2e so I wanted to make them a little nicer)

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + thirty two

authors note: we're nearing the end, folks. buckle up!

cw/tw: fluff, angst, and smut

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

cast+ masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 12k

“Baby, look.”

Roman redirects his focus from the text reply he was formulating to Dwayne to glance over at his wife who’s angling her phone screen toward him. 

Naturally, he’s confused by what he’s looking at, seeing a lot of colors, several words in different fonts/sizes, and what looks like fruit.

“What is this?”

Solana smiles and leans against his arm, explaining, “this is what our girls look like right now.” Realizing how that sounds considering she’s showing him a picture of actual fruit, Solana explains, “well, this is how big they are right now. The size of two Limes.”

And, it’s only when she says that, Roman takes the time to really look at the screen. To see that it in fact reads, “At 12 weeks, your babies are about as big as two lines” accompanied by a graphic of two limes as well as other things, one of them prompting him to point and ask. “And that?”

Solana’s smile deepens. “That’s what they probably look like.” Rubbing her belly, she clarifies, “it might not be an exact match, but pretty close.” She looks over at Roman, ready to explain more when she sees it. Sees the amazement. The surprise. The emotion.

“Shit,” he finally breathes, eyes still on the phone. “They….they’re growing fast.”

Solana nods, kissing his shoulder. “According to my app, their pituitary gland is producing hormones, and their bone marrow is making white blood cells, which will help them fight off germs.” Solana’s explanation is accompanied by her showing him her phone with the information displayed. 

Roman scoffs, finally looking at her and asking, “how did you get this? Is it something the doctor gave you or—”

She shakes her head. “No. It’s just a pregnancy app. I’ve tried out a couple, but I really like this one.”

“How do I get it on my phone?” He asks, Solana partially taken back by his interest, though it makes sense when she thinks about it. Her husband is a man who likes to be in the know and have information readily available to him, and an app that allows him to track the growth of their unborn children seems like a great resource for just that.

“You can download it from the app store. It’s called What to Expect.”

Roman moves to grab his phone, tapping around, a scowl growing on his face. “Where’s that damn little box?” Solana leans into him, pressing her face into his arm to hide her amusement. “Why does it keep moving and shit?”

The struggle to withhold her laughter is real. “Baby, it’s not moving. They had another iOS update, so the layout changed again.” 

“Another one?” She can’t help it. A giggle escapes, as Roman’s scowl deepens. “How many fucking updates are they going to do? I already can’t find shit half the damn time. Now they’re just making it even more difficult. Fucking hate this damn phone.” 

Solana moves her hand to the back of his head, massaging the base of his neck, trying to calm him down while also having to push back the desire to fall out in laughter. Roman is easily the most intelligent person she’s ever come across, but his inability to work or understand technology will never not be hilarious.

She 1000% believes that if he wasn’t who he is, he would most definitely do well, and best, with a flip phone.

“Here, babe. Let me do it for you.” Roman has zero issues handing over his phone to his wife who in a matter of minutes has not only downloaded the app, but has set up the account as if it was her profile so he can follow along, just as she’s doing. “There you go. All done.”

“Thank you,” he mutters, and she leans up to kiss his temple. Solana allows him time to play around and explore the app, while she shifts to something different but equally important. 

And, it’s when she stumbles across one that she likes, she draws his attention, once again showing him her screen. 

Instantly, he’s confused, and he’s not afraid to express as such.

“What is that?”

Solana looks at him, initially thinking he’s joking, which is a strange, impossible thing because her husband doesn’t joke. But, judging by the genuinely confused look on his face, he also really doesn’t know just what he’s looking at.

“It’s a crib, Roman,” she answers, providing additional information when that one word also doesn’t seem to trigger anything for him. “It’s actually a 4 in 1 with a changing table and can also be converted to a crib and a toddler bed as they get older, so we wouldn’t have to buy new—”

“I don’t want them using old shit,” Roman’s interruption, despite the almost rude wording, is more informative than anything. “We’ll buy them new things as they need em’.”

Solana frowns a bit. “But, if we can find something so we don’t have to spend unnecessary money—”

“If it’s for them, it’s not unnecessary, Sol.” She rolls her eyes, as he asks with almost uncertainty. “So a crib….it’s like….a baby bed?”

She nods, her small smile returning. “Yes.” She motions to the screen that shows the pink and one number she finds herself really liking. “The rails on it keep them from falling out or even climbing out when their gross motor skills start to kick in more.” 

“When does that start?”

“It depends,” Solana answers. “Every baby is different. They typically learn how to roll over at around 4 months, and their mobility just continues to grow and improve from there.”

Roman nods, clearly taking in all of this new information. “So does that mean they’ll need to sleep in the room with us?” His question is so innocent, borderline naive, that it makes Solana giggle. “Until they learn….how to control their movements and shit.”

She shakes her head, gentle grin on her face matching her patient tone. “No, baby. They don’t need to sleep in the room with us. We’ll just get baby monitors to put up in their nursery.” Sensing he’s still hesitant, she adds, “they have ones with audio and video.”

This seems to settle him a bit when he, in true Roman fashion, picks up on a single word. “They’ll have separate rooms.”

Solana rolls her eyes. “Maybe when they’re older, but as babies, they can share the same nursery, Ro.”

It’d honestly make things easier, too, as Solana plans to breastfeed, and just the logistics of it, changing them, rocking them, and other things, will be significantly easier if they’re feet apart instead of rooms apart.

However, Roman doesn’t seem to be having it. 

“I want them to have their own space.”

She sits up a bit, looking at him, borderline shocked. “As babies?” She shakes her head, rubbing her temples. “Roman, they won’t even know what a room is, let alone anything about a space.”

“You don’t know that for certain.”

“Roman—” Solana has to stop herself. Lord knows she loves this man with everything in her, but he’s being impossible right now. Just like she also knows there can be no reasoning with him when he gets like this. “Okay, we—we can revisit this later.” Eager to get onto another similar baby subject, she asks, “how–how is this going to work?”

He looks at her. “What do you mean?”

Realizing her question was far too vague, she doesn’t waste any time clarifying. “I mean with the shopping portion. There’s a lot of things we’re going to need, and I can definitely get a lot of it online, but I’d like to be able to shop in person…and for you to go with me.”

The elaboration is helpful, Roman nodding, clearly understanding the true, unspoken concern in all of that.

In that how do they keep this pregnancy as under wraps as possible while still being able to enjoy it with little things like baby shopping.

“You just have to let me know at least a couple hours in advance if you want to go somewhere and where exactly you want to go, so I can have the stores cleared out.” Solana partially expected as such, given how he’s done the same every time they go grocery shopping together. Same with the empty doctor's office they're currently sitting in, waiting for the start of her three month check up appointment, Bautista and their security team patrolling the premises.

And, she’s not even showing yet.

But, it’s what he says next that she hasn’t really thought about. “And when you start showing, you won’t be able to go out much.”

She frowns. “What do you mean?”

Roman sighs, clearly trying to word it as best he can. A thoughtfulness always reserved for her. “Realistically speaking, there’s a chance, even if small, this pregnancy will reach the ears of people who don’t need to know. So, that means I have to eliminate their access to you—”

“But, I have security—”

He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.” A gentle but firm interruption. “My family had security that night, too, and look what still happened.” Solana’s shoulders slump, her heart aching seeing the flash of pain cross his handsome face. “The only way to ensure the safety of you and the babies is to cut off any access to you.”

She's following along, understanding where he’s coming from, but it’s not exactly what she was wanting and expecting to hear. “I….I won’t be able to leave the house?”

Roman pauses. “You will, just….on an as needed basis.”

Solana grows quiet, sitting on Roman’s words. They make sense, given who he is, what them welcoming children into this world will mean for them. Mean for him. Though she can’t deny a part of her is saddened at the fact that she won’t be able to treat this pregnancy like any other expectant mother would.

That she can’t be out shopping, bump displayed freely, without having to worry about who sees it. Dragging Roman from store to store as she tries to find matching outfits for their girls. Having him help her pick out furniture, while they consult with the sales associates for what is best. The normal things.

And Roman sees this, sees the sort of grief she’s experiencing at realizing some of that, maybe none of that, will be possible.

That at some point, she’ll be practically homebound.

“I know….” He trails off, Solana hating the regret that crosses his handsome face. “I know it’s not what you imagined or probably want, and I’m sorry it’s because of me, but—”

She shakes her head, completely shifting gears, unwilling to have him feel anything remotely close to bad. “I wouldn’t want this if I couldn't do it with you.” An easy thing to share, even if it seems to startle her husband. Solana sees the surprise, feels the way he’s almost moved by such a thing. “Ro….” Solana reaches across, taking his hand and settling it on her stomach, her hand atop of his. “There’s no one else I’d want to do this with, but you. If I couldn’t have you as the father of my children, I wouldn’t want children. It’s…..it’s you or nothing, Roman.” She smiles, eyes watering. “And if that means some of the traditional things I don’t get to do or have, then that’s just what it is.”

Because at the end of the day, the most important thing is doing whatever it takes to welcome two healthy babies into this world. Some things might be missed, yes, but she’s certain it’ll all be worth it the moment Lina and Leya arrive.

Leaning up, she kisses his bearded jaw, murmuring, “I love you.”

He repeats it back at the same moment the nurse comes out and calls her name. Solana takes Roman’s hand as they walk to the back, going through the same order of things as her last few appointments. Questions. Urine sample. Bloodwork. It’s all routine at this point, the most exciting part being when Dr. Sharmell walks in. She asks her usual questions, and Solana provides her honest answers. 

Sometimes Roman chimes in with a question usually regarding what to expect at this point in her pregnancy, so he knows what to expect. It’s all so attentive and moving, how much he cares and how invested he is.

“Time for your favorite part,” Dr. Sharmell jokes as she moves the transducer over Solana’s stomach, searching only briefly. “Here’s Baby A.” The rhythmic beating is soothing and relieving, a big smile on Solana’s face as she looks over at the screen, immensely settled by the sound of her baby’s heartbeat. “Heartbeat just as strong as last time.”

Roman rubs his thumb over Solana’s knuckles as the doctor travels the transducer around a little bit longer this time around. “Baby B once again giving me a hard time.” She shakes her head, Solana holding in her smile at the thought that crosses her mind. A silly one, in some ways. 

Lina. 

Lina comes to mind. Glimpses of her spitfire and wild child spirit from her and Roman’s shared dreams, and how making her identification during a routine ultrasound difficult seems just so aligned with her personality.

“There you are,” Dr. Sharmell makes an ‘aha’ sound, the baby’s steady heartbeat once again filling the room. “And there’s Baby B.”

Solana’s eyes water as she stares at the screen, seeing her children, her babies. “They’re getting so big.”

“They are,” the doctor smiles, observing. “I see you’re still not showing yet, but I’d gather it’s only a matter of a few weeks until you’ll see a bump.”

Solana giggles, squeezing Roman’s hand, completely uncaring of what the emergence of a bump might mean for safety measures. Having a baby bump makes this pregnancy just that much more real. 

Physical proof of the lives growing inside of her. 

“Everything looks good?” Her husband asks, ever the concerned and wanting to stay on top of everything.

Dr. Sharmell nods. “Everything looks great. Babies are growing as expected at the three month mark. Stats look great,” she answers, going to wipe the gel off Solana’s stomach. “In fact, you don’t have to be on pelvic rest anymore.” The announcement takes both husband and wife by surprise, as the OB-GYN continues to explain, “your ultrasound has come back clear during your last three visits with no bleeding since the initial incident. I could have cleared you last week, but I just wanted to make absolute certain.”

Roman and Solana share a look, the former asking, almost skeptically, “are you sure?”

“Positive,” she reassures. She directs her statement to Solana. “You can resume all normal activity. Exercise, regular movement, sexual activity, the usual.” Dr. Sharmell moves to grab her tablet, tapping around and gasping. “Oh my goodness. I almost forgot. So sorry. Your NIPT test results came back, and it was also clear from any signs of chromosomal disorders for the babies.” A small smile grows on her face as she looks between the parents. “And there were no Y chromosomes detected in either fetus, which means—”

“Girls,” Solana finishes, eyes watering all over again. “We’re having twin girls.”

—---------

The sounds of the clips being unloaded is muffled by the earmuffs on her ears, the recoil force something Solana is able to withstand much better than the first time she fired, and it’s an improvement noticed by Afia.

“Nice,” Afia compliments, taking note of the continued improvement in Solana’s aim. She waits for the younger woman to remove her earmuffs before applauding, “you’re a quick learner.”

Solana smiles, appreciative. “Thank you.” She looks back over at the target, seeing holes all around the dummy’s abdomen and shoulder, the areas Afia has taught her to always aim for. “You’re a great teacher.”

Afia grins, dipping her head and winking. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

In the few weeks they’ve trained and hung out together at the shooting range, Solana has learned a lot about the woman who is technically her sister-in-law. Starting with the fact that Afia is actually a retired master assassin, a member of an elite group of female assassins in her home country of Nigeria.

Learned how from a young child, like Roman, Afia was taught one thing and one thing only. 

Kill or be killed. 

That she was molded and shaped into the nonpareil killer that she is. That she was.

Because the Nigerian woman also shared how she walked away from it all, turned her back on her sisters, was disowned by her “family” the day she decided to choose love instead of violence.

How instead of choosing to kill Matteo, her intended target and assignment, she ended up falling in love with the man. A love that has withstood a tremendous amount of trials and tribulations but has remained strong and resulted in three beautiful children. 

Solana admires her in so many ways and truly appreciates all the help and insight she’s provided.

It’s helped her in ways she’s not quite sure how to explain. 

Afia looks Solana over, acknowledging, “you’re small and have a kind aura about you, Solana, but make no mistake, there’s definitely one hell of a fighter in there, too.”

Words that Solana takes to heart, that maybe just months ago, she wouldn’t agree with. She wouldn’t agree that anything about or in her comes remotely close to a fighter. But, the truth of the matter is that Solana has always been a fighter. A survivor. Overcome more adversity than anyone could ever realize.

Been burned by the fire but survived nonetheless.

She is fire. 

It’s been a long journey, largely aided to and due to her husband, due to Roman doing something as simple as making her learn how to train, how to fight, something she’s learned to love and will miss throughout this pregnancy, but something she still holds with her. 

That fight.

“Kinda hard to not at least try to catch up when surrounded by so many strong people,” Solana says with a small smile as the two women to start removing their bulletproof vests, clearly ready for a lunch break. 

Afia chuckles softly, soft eyes focused ahead, as Bautista quietly escorts them to the cafeteria. “You’ve always been strong, Solana. It just maybe took you a little longer to realize it. That’s the case with a lot of women who’ve been told what they can and can’t do, who they are, and what they are and are not.” She casts the shorter woman a meaningful gaze, “but the truth is that there is no stronger being on this planet than a woman. Do you know why?” Solana shakes her head as the two women reach the door that Bautista holds open for them. Afia chuckles and steps forward, answering clearly and with zero hesitation. “Because just as easily as we can create life—” Something dark and intentful flashes in her pretty eyes, the lingering remnants of the killer that will always lie within. “We can take it, too.”

At one point in Solana’s life, not even a year ago, such a statement would unnerve her. Maybe even scare her a bit, but there’s something about the transformative journey she’s been on all these months that has her in such a different place.

The fact that she has not only one, but two lives, growing inside of her. Two daughters. All of that has her in such a different place with a different mindset than she had just some months ago when talking with her husband about her fear of how badly she hurt Wesley. Her fear of if she unintentionally would end up killing him.

Of killing in general.

Then, Solana told Roman she didn't think she could live with herself if she ever did such a thing.

Now, she no longer feels the way.

She would prefer to never be in that situation, to never have to make that call, but the truth of the matter is that if she had to, if she had to kill to protect, she would.

For herself.

For Roman.

For her daughters.

Because not only has she made a vow that no man would ever hurt her again, she’s made the same for her girls.

For her family. 

She’ll do whatever it takes to protect them, to protect their lives.

Even if it means taking someone else’s. 

Afia and Solana continue to engage in discussion about topics regarding life and training when that damn nausea returns, prompting Solana to place down the last bit of her sandwich as she covers her mouth. 

Afia is forever perceptive and notices as such, asking, “are you alright?”

Solana nods, mustering up a small smile and trying to play it off. “Yes. The food is just.....probably not agreeing with me.”

It feels like a good answer, a good excuse. And, it is, if not for Afia being who she is. 

The other woman chuckles quietly, asking in a low voice that’s not necessarily required given Roman had the entire shooting range cleared just for the two women to train. Something he’s done since their first lesson and will continue to do.

Afia’s gaze is assessing. “How far along are you?”

Solana, to the best of her abilities, tries to hide the complete shock that shoots through her body at Afia’s cavalier question. But, it’s difficult, to say the least. “Wh–what?”

“Solana…..” Afia leans across the table, placing her hand on top of Solana’s. “I know we haven’t known each other for long, but we’re technically family, if our stubborn husbands would set aside their pride and talk things out, that is.” Another bombshell as Solana is unsure if Afia is referring to Matteo and Roman as cousins or the half-brothers that they really are. “And, I know this is a rare thing in this world, something that’s almost non-existent, but I promise that you can trust me. You have my word. On my childrens' life.”

Such a strong, powerful statement that Solana doesn't take lightly. That she believes. Because if there’s one thing she’s learned about the woman sitting across from her, it’s that Afia does not play about her family. Especially her children. 

She’d never include them in something like that if she didn’t mean it.

It’s why Solana finds herself asking in a quiet voice, “how—how did you know?”

“I’m a mother myself, Solana. I’ve been there before with the morning sickness, the light headedness, the headaches.” Solana continues to sit stunned as Afia lists off some of the symptoms the wife of the Tribal Chief thought she’d hidden well enough when they hit her during her trainings. “The pregnancy glow.” 

At that, Solana’s eyes light up. “I–I have that?”

Afia nods with a warm smile. “You do.”

There’s something about that, about that acknowledgement from another woman, another mother, that means the world to Solana. 

“I’m—I’m three months,” she finally answers, confirming what Afia clearly already knows. “It’s–it’s twins.”

It’s always been discussed that the pregnancy should be kept private and will continue to be kept as such, but Solana knows that if she talks with Roman, explains how Afia knowing transpired, that he won’t be upset. 

The same way she wasn’t upset when he told her how he told Ava and Dwayne about the pregnancy.

Family.

Ava. Dwayne. Afia. 

They’re family, and Solana can only count the days until she can share her big news with the rest of her family.

“Twins?” Afia gasps, face filled with awe. “What a blessing.” Curiosity brimming, she inquires, “do you know the genders yet or…..”

“Girls,” Solana answers, hand over her belly, overcome with pride. “They’re both girls.”

“Solana….” Afia’s laughter is light and so joyful. “Congratulations. You are going to be an amazing mother.”

A compliment Solana could never tire of hearing. Reassurance she needs in some ways. “Thank you.” Clearing her throat, she wipes at her eyes, sharing, “it’s….it’s nice to finally be able to have someone to talk to about this, about….being pregnant.”

Afia laughs. More heartily this time. “Well, I am an open book for any questions you may have.” She smirks, leaning back and crossing her arms. “I do have some experience with this, you know.”

And Solana is instantly filled with such happiness, such relief in some ways, because having only her doctor and Roman talk to about her pregnancy is fine, but not enough in some ways. Because her doctor can only help from a medical standpoint, and Roman’s knowledge is obviously limited. 

So, Afia, another woman, another mother, being available to offer insight is invaluable.

In more than one way.

“Afia….” Solana is the one to sit forward, gaze focused on the woman opposite her. “You know Matteo and Roman are brothers….don’t you?” 

She has to. Her wording basically confirmed as such. 

“I do,” she answers. Nothing more.

It’s not needed though.

“Then….then I need your help with something else, too.” Because this family has already been so broken, so shattered, so unhealed. It’s time to change that. Solana is determined to make a better, cohesive, healed future for her girls and this next generation of children.

“I’m listening.”

Solana takes a deep breath, pushing aside any amount of self-doubt. “I want to help Roman and Matteo actually be brothers.” She explains, offering with just as much determination, “our children will be cousins, and I want them to have a relationship. I want them to be close, but I don’t know if that can happen if Matteo and Roman don’t form some kind of relationship.”

Form a brotherhood. 

Afia nods, clearly taking in all of the information, Solana a bit unsure if she should have waited. If maybe she came on too strong, that doubt trying to creep its way back in. And then, Afia smiles, simply asking, 

“Where should we start?”

—------------

Roman wasn’t expecting to see his wife again until later in the evening. They both had busy days, her with her training with Afia and work, as well as him with work. So, he’s more than surprised when she shows up at his office looking every bit as fine as she is in a sexy, little red piece. It’s far too easy for him to bark for everyone to get the fuck out of his office so that he’s left alone with said wife. 

But, as the room is quickly cleared, he can’t help but wonder what brings her to see him. She’s always a sight for sore eyes, but he can’t shake the feeling there’s something behind this surprise visit. 

Her smile is bashful, something similar to shyness, a bit of a thing she’ll probably always have around her husband. “Hey.”

“Hey.” His eyes move over her, a mixture of studying and admiring. Her body has always been divine, but the slight changes he’s noticed because of her pregnancy have only elevated her to a delectable category. “You alright?”

She nods. “Yeah, I just….I wanted to see you.”

Roman’s eyes flitter to something curious. “Baby, we just saw each other this morning.”

She shrugs with one shoulder and chews down on her bottom lip. “I know, but….” Solana looks around, focusing mostly on the door, almost expecting someone to walk in. To interrupt. Even though she has a feeling anyone with a brain knows not to interrupt the Tribal Chief when she’s around.

When his wife is present.

“Solana?”

Him calling her name pulls her from wandering thoughts. Solana redirects her focus back to him, trying her best to think on how to word it. In the car, on the way here, it seemed a lot more straightforward, but now standing here in front of him, it’s anything but.

“I…..” Solana breaks away from him, sliding her purse off her shoulder and placing it in one of the chairs on the opposite side of his desk. She feels his gaze never leave her as she hops up on his desk, ankles crossed. An intentional gesture. “Do—do you have a meeting soon?”

Curiosity gleams in his warm brown eyes as he walks over to her, a simple two steps with his long legs. “Define soon.” When she doesn’t answer, he skips right to the chase. “Solana, why are you really here?”

It’s not asked rudely, just something conceived from dire intrigue. 

Solana leans forward, palming the edge of his desk for support. “You know I was…..I was cleared this morning,” she reminds. An unnecessary thing given Roman was right there next to her at her appointment this morning and heard that same things that she did. “I’m…..I’m not on pelvic rest anymore…..” Her voice slides into something quiet and unsure, similar to the way she’s looking at her husband. A husband whose face is filled with knowing and realization.

“Solana….” A pained, almost rough iteration of her name as he moves closer and lifts her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. “Why are you here?”

There’s something about how it’s asked, the heaviness and almost need in said question, the way Solana knows that Roman knows exactly why she’s here.

And she tells him just as much.

Just, in her own way.

Solana closes her knees together to force her husband a few steps back, and when he does so, she proceeds to lay back on his desk just enough to give her the room she needs. Sliding her dress up higher, dangerously high, it’s when she slowly spreads her legs once more and Roman’s eyes flint downward that she sees it.

Sees the way his jaw clenches, his eyes gloss over with an undeniable and unmistakable amount of lust.

“Fuck, Sol…..”

Her mouth slips into something similar to a smile. “Exactly.” She leans up just enough to reach for him, to pull her between her open legs that reveal her exposed cunt and the fact that she’s not wearing any underwear. Solana glides her hands up his chest, cupping his face, as she murmurs, “I want you…..”

Roman’s eyes shut, his voice strained. “Here?” He moves his hands to her hips, tugging her forward. “I would have come home….”

“We can do it again when you get home.” It comes out before she even really realizes what she’s saying, a shocking thing that takes them both back. Solana’s cheeks heat up as she clarifies, “if—if you want.”

“You know I always want that with you,” he assures, kissing the corner of her mouth. He looks at her, lust briefly replaced with all the seriousness. “Are you sure?”

It’s a question that doesn’t even require any sort of contemplation. “Yes.”

The ‘s’ has barely left her mouth when Roman smashes his lips over hers with a hunger that’s equally yoked. Solans moves her arms around her neck, pulling him closer, savoring the feel of his full lips on hers, the intimate, intricate dance of yearning and longing. Roman slides his tongue into her mouth, evoking a yawn as she tightens her thighs around his waist.

Roman groans and drops his mouth to her neck, Solana’s lips parting, her hands to the back of his neck as he sucks on her sensitive mouth and moves his hand over her breast, palming them. She moans and arches her back, oh so sensitive to his touch, a combination of it being far too long since they could be together in this way as well as the changes her body has started to undergo due to her pregnancy.

Solana moves her hands up to slide his suit jacket off, something Roman assists her with as he tosses it off in the distance, uncaring of how it falls onto the floor. He moves to kiss her again, Solana smiling into said kiss only to gasp when Roman nudges his hand in between her legs. 

“You get so wet for me, baby…..” His tongue darts out and over his bottom lip, watching how the pleasure from just a simple touch has her head lolled back. “Lay back a bit for me, sweetheart.”

Solana doesn’t have to be told twice. Excitement fills her as she follows his request. Roman moves his hands to her hips, tugging her a bit forward on his desk as she rests on her elbows. Looking down at him, Solana watches his eyes gloss over with that returned lust, that hunger that always seems to fill him whenever they’re intimate.

“You have such a pretty pussy….” It’s the way he licks his lips and moves to his knees that has Solana’s nails scraping against the wood of his desk. 

And, he hasn’t even touched her yet.

“Keep your legs open for me.” A soft, sultry command that doesn’t need issuance, Solana already adjusting her body and scooting down the desk. But, Roman quickly switches gears, deciding on something different. 

“Fuck it.” Is the last thing Solana hears before her husband has his face buried into that sacred, dripping apex of her thighs. 

“Roman,” she shouts, immediately biting down on her bottom lip to try to keep herself quiet, a difficult task as Roman sucks on her clit with all the urgency and need in the world. “Oh my…..” Her head falls back, her fingers moving to the top of his head. Solana moans as Roman adjusts her legs, one over each shoulder, heels falling off, her calves squeezing against his back.

His thick warm tongue working that magic over her most sensitive bud has her struggling to remain quiet, to not alert anyone outside of the safe space of his office just what carnal activities are transpiring. 

He pulls away, and Solana just about loses it, “I wanna hear you, sweet girl. Stop being so quiet.”

Solana would love to look down at him, meet the dazed, lustful gaze that must fill his eyes, but head thrown back, chest heaving up and down from the sensations of it all make it hard to do so. The same way it’s damn near an arduous task to muster up a verbal reply. “It’s….your office….they’ll—shit—they’ll hear.”

Roman growls lowly and tugs her closer, Solana shooting up off the desk when he thrusts his tongue back inside her. “Ro!”

“Good,” he sounds, face immersed back into her pussy that has his beard soaked, her essence dripping and making a mess all over a $50,000 desk. “Let them.” He’s never been so unbothered. “Let them hear you’re mine.”

Solana whimpers and writhes as he continues to eat her out within an inch of her life, bringing her to kingdom come and back as she comes all over his face and into his mouth, the Tribal Chief lapping up every ounce of it like it’s his last supper. And Solana has truly gone too long without being intimate with her husband, because it’s almost naive on her part for her to think one is enough. 

No. Roman has a minimum of two to three. Two to three times he has to make her come with his mouth, some assistance from his fingers but mostly that talented tongue of his. On several occasions, he’s made it clear, in several graphic ways, just how much he enjoys this. Enjoys going down on her, so much so that Solana has learned trying to push him away as she comes down from her orgasm only makes him pull her closer, as he starts his journey to bringing her to heaven all over again.

It’s too much and yet exactly what she’s been wanting. Been needing. 

And it’s with that same need, she grabs him by the back of his head and presses their lips together, tasting herself on those same, talented, full lips when he’s finally and fully satiated. 

Solana’s hands can’t move fast enough to reach for the belt, but she’s no match for the speed in which Roman has his pants undone and her perched on the edge of the desk, ready and waiting. 

And the minute his thick mushroom head pushes into her, Solana grips his shoulders, the wince on her face more than enough to cause him to stop.

“You alright?” His voice drips with concern, Solana able to feel him pull back just enough, prompting her to shake her head. 

“I’m fine,” she assures, holding him, pulling him closer. “It’s just….it’s been a while.” Too long. “Please—please don’t stop.” Because that’s absolutely not what she needs. She needs him, and she needs him now. 

Roman still looks a bit reluctant, Solana silencing his doubts by pressing her lips against his and maneuvering her hand in between their bodies to reposition him. “Please….” 

Roman obliges, Solana’s hand dropping and moving to grip his shirt as he carefully inches himself into her. She bites down on his shoulder, uncaring of the lipstick stain now on his shirt. “Oh my God…..”

It’s a bit of a burning sensation, somewhat painful, something similar to their first time, but it’s expected. Solana expected there to be some difficulty taking all of him again after such a long period of time. Doesn’t make her want him any less though. Want this any less.

He kisses her temple, asking. “You okay?”

A soft smile and sincere answer. “I’m okay.” Because it’ll never not move her with how attentive and caring he always is, even outside of their sex life, but it somehow seems more prominent in this aspect of their relationship.

Solana can absolutely tell and feel when he’s completely inside of her, an overwhelming sensation that’s been missed even more than she realized. She squeezes his shoulders, whining almost, “move….”

Again, always wanting to assess her comfort, Roman looks down at her, studying her face. Needing that reassurance, and the minute he receives it, Solana is already gasping, feeling him pull out just enough to slide back into her, the tip of his long, thick dick pressing that spot inside of her.

“Yes,” she moans, the pleasure easily and quickly overpowering any amount of discomfort. “Ro….”

His thrusts intensify by the seconds that pass, the slick feeling of her pussy, hugging and tugging his dick with all the need. “Like that, baby?”

“Yes.” She cries, overwhelmed in the best sort of way. “Just—just like that, oh—”

Solana moans when Roman moves his hand under her ass, lifting her up just enough to switch and change up the angle. God, he feels so good.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” Roman’s voice is heavy and deep with need, his mouth traveling the perimeter of his  face. “Missed being inside this pussy.”

Solana feels numb, feels so many, too many things to say anything. Can only continue to lock her ankles above Roman’s ass as he fucks into her, his hips thrusting against and into her, driving her delirious in some ways. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, Sol.” Roman tips her forward once more, eager and needing to dig into her, to continue to feel her come undone around him. “Good ass pussy gripping my shit like this.”

“You’re so deep.” It’s impossible how much he fills her, the fullness that consumes her, the pleasure that he brings her. “Mmm feels amazing, papi.”

“Fuck, Sol,” Roman curses, squeezing her ass, pumping into her harder, deeper. “If you weren’t already pregnant….”

Solana smiles as he buries his face into her neck, his mouth ghosting over the collarbone of her fully healed tattoo. The tattoo for him. A reminder of her love and devotion to him.

It’s that devotion that fills her and drives her to make him look at her, her hands cupping his face, “mine.”

His eyes shut, his forehead pressed against hers, vowing, “yours.” She clenches around him, both nearly coming in that same moment. “Always yours.”

Solana gasps, intakes sharply as he claims her mouth in a kiss that’s broken by her moan, loud and heavy. “I love you,” she whimpers, nails digging into his clothed shoulders. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you, too, baby,” he murmurs, never once stopping his delicious thrusts, his determination to bring her over the edge, to take her to that wonderful place only he knows the way to is unwavering. And with each thrust, with each reminder of his love and devotion for her, Solana’s caring for who, if anyone, overhears dwindles.

She doesn’t care.

This is her husband.

The father of her children.

The Tribal Chief, and she, his wife. 

His a faletua.

The Wife of The Tribal Chief.

She can do whatever she damn well pleases. 

And she does, as she comes, still uncaring of anyone hearing her moans, of how vocal she is at how good her husband makes her feel. The way she savors in the way he once again buries himself into her neck, groping her big breast as he too reaches his climax, emptying his seed all into her. Solana clutches her legs around him, wanting all of it. Everything he has, she wants.

In all the ways. 

She holds onto him, enjoying the feel of his big, strong body leaning, resting into hers. She kisses his temple, again reaffirming her love for him.

And after a few minutes of silence, he speaks, voice low with lingering need. “You need to come visit me every day.”

She giggles, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. “I just might.” He’s still buried inside of her, growing soft, but she swears she feels his dick jerk at her reply. “My….drive has been…..high.” 

Because, it has. Because while Solana has completely understood the need for pelvic rest and would do so for the rest of her pregnancy to keep her babies safe and healthy if necessary, the lifting of said restriction is something she’s also very much looked forward to the past few weeks. Especially as her sex drive has spiked ten levels. Another pregnancy symptom.

One she’s elated to no longer have to suppress. 

The implication with her pronunciation of the word drive makes Roman look up, his gaze filled with desire and baseline level of excitement. “I can take care of that.”

She smiles, eyes darting from his eyes to his lips, whispering, “yeah?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, closing the gap between them, leaning over her body, laying her back on the desk. Solana giggles against his mouth, already feeling—in more ways than one—where this is headed.

Would be headed.

“....I keep trying to tell you, Roman don’t care if I go—OH MY GOD!”

Solanna’s scream of horror is just about what and what with Jimmy’s as he quickly scrambles to shut the door. Solana tries to hide her face into her husband’s chest, her husband who barks at his cousin to “get the fuck out!”

Embarrassment fills her as the two of them move to separate, Roman looking every bit as irritated—or enraged—as he feels. Solana’s hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with continued horror, the sound of Jimmy outside the door a soundtrack to this quite unexpected scene.

“Alicia! Get the bleach! And the Lysol! And the CDC! I need one of them yellow suits they had in Monster’s Inc!  

—----------

Roman was in a decent mood after starting the day off with Solana’s OB-GYN appointment and was in an even better mood when his wife surprised him with a visit. A visit that resulted in them being intimate intimate again after far too long. But, that better mood was immediately squashed the moment his dumbass cousin interrupted them, the same cousin who sits at the same conference table as himself, Dwayne, Matteo, and the Wise Man, still going on and on about what happened a good two hours ago.

“Don’t make no damn sense,” Jimmy scowls, randomly spraying Lysol around him, setting the personal sized can on the table. “Ya’ll couldn’t go somewhere else?”

Roman’s expression is every bit as bored as his tone. “It’s my office, Jimmy.” He lifts his eyes, voice even as he reminds. “I’ll fuck my wife all over that space if I want to.”

It’s then that Matteo gives a look of understanding. “Is that what you’re so upset about?” He asks Jimmy, scoffing and sharing. “I’ve done the same with my wife plenty of times in my office. It’s normal.”

“And, I don’t have a wife, but Lord knows I’ve done some things in my office as well.” Dwayne smirks, leaning back into his chair. 

Jimmy makes a face, mocking the two men. “This ain’t about ya’ll!” He dismisses them, pointing to himself. “This is about me. I am a victim!”

Matteo looks toward his brother and asks in Italian. “Is he always like this?”

Roman rolls his shoulders, answering in the same language. “Unfortunately.”

“I mean, that’s why they make bedrooms. Ya’ll could have done that shit at ya’ll damn house,” Jimmy continues to object, shaking his head, nose turned up. “It was like walking in on my little sister or something.”

Roman rolls his eyes, suddenly curious. “You really think we’ve only had sex in our bedroom at our house?”

At one point, the answer was yes. When they first started being intimate, Solana still growing into her comfortability with sex, yes. It was limited to the bedroom, as that was her comfort level. But now? Especially in the days and weeks following her return from treatment? Roman has easily made his wife come on every available space in that damn house. 

A realization that has Jimmy just about ready to throw up. “You mean I been contaminated?” His eyes are wide and filled with horror as he lifts the can of Lysol, spraying much more than necessary, evoking a fit of heavy, violent coughs from the asthmatic Wise Man. “I’m suing!”

Dwayne and Matteo share a chuckle at the ever dramatic Jimmy, while Roman decides it’s time to switch gears. 

It’s time to get to business.

He sits forward, asking in an unmistakably irritated voice. “Where are your brothers and dad, Jimmy?”

It’s a shift in tone and energy that makes all the men sit up straight, even Jimmy, who answers, “I don’t know, man. They knew to be here.”

“But, they’re not,” Roman finishes. He glances at the expensive watch on his wrist, frustration growing exponentially seeing they’re almost 15 minutes late. 

Unacceptable. 

“Wise Man.”

Paul stands up almost immediately. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“Call—” Roman’s directive is interrupted by the arrival of the missing parties themselves. In walks in Rikishi, followed by his sons, Solo and Jey. 

All wear unreadable expressions with the exception of Jey who looks annoyed, and that only pisses Roman off more.

To show up late to a meeting called by the Tribal Chief is one thing. To show up late and deepen that disrespect by looking irritated is a whole other level of contempt.

Roman rolls his shoulders and tries to settle himself by focusing on the objective of said meeting.

Even if that same objective is most likely going to exacerbate an already tense situation.

Once everyone is settled, Wise Man naturally steps into the role of mediator. 

“Gentlemen, thank you for your attendance today,” he starts out, Roman partially listening, mostly focused on how Jey is focused on the wall of windows across the room rather than the discussion that’s about to change everything. Like, he doesn't care.

It’s infuriating. 

“Your Tribal Chief has called this meeting today for a very important reason given the….less than unfortunate events that have transpired over the past few weeks and months.” Unfortunate is one way to put it. “Now, please understand, your Tribal Chief has thought long and hard on how to proceed and respond to these events in a way that is fair and just, but still—”

“You’re all out.”

Roman’s interruption is short, blunt, and concise. A simple sentence with a hefty weight behind it.

Rikishi is the first to respond. He sits forward, removing his glasses. “Excuse me?”

Solo and Jey exchange confused expressions. 

“You’re all hereby removed from my cabinet and relieved of any current, higher up Bloodline duties,” Roman continues his explanation, also sitting forward, studying the non-verbals of each man. “Solo, you’re also removed from Solana’s security detail. You and Jey will be joining the trainers and training new recruits. Rikishi, your primary task will be whatever the Elders assign you with. Just know it won’t be coming from me.”

“Is this a joke?” It’s the first thing to come out of Jey’s mouth as he looks over at Jimmy who’s also just as confused. An expected thing given this was a decision made between Roman, Dwayne, and even Matteo, given how closely connected he’s come to Bloodline business. Especially as he was privy to Jey’s latest and last outburst. “You gotta be fucking with me?”

Roman’s voice is even and challenging. “Do I look like I’m joking?” A rhetorical question to a stupid ass question.

“Roman, this is madness,” Rikishi objects, his voice also even as he looks between his two fellow ousted sons. “How can you—”

“You all have disrespected me, disrespected my reign, my leadership in one way or another.” He’s tempted to add in ‘my wife’, but ultimately goes against it, already knowing they’ll try to say this is personal. Even if, in some ways, it is. “I don’t stand for that shit from anyone.” Not even family. “I’ve killed for less.”

And, they all know this. 

“Fucking training?” Jey sneers, slamming his fist on the table. “You demoting me to a goddamn trainer?”

Roman growls, reminding, “you’re lucky demoting you is all I’m doing.” The Tribal Chief doesn’t hesitate to remind his hot headed cousin of the straw that broke the camel’s back. “That shit you pulled at the party was fucking unacceptable, Jey. Acting a fucking fool on neutral territory in the presence of Escobar and his men? You should have fucking known better.”

Jey responds by jumping up out of his seat, chair falling back onto the floor. “This some bullshit, Roman, and you know it!”

Jimmy also stands up, moving over to try to calm down his brother as Dwayne breaks his silence. “Your temper makes you a liability, Jey. We can’t have that.”

“You either learn to control it, or it’ll control you,” Matteo advises, studying the way Solo remains surprisingly calm in the face of upsetting news. It’s….interesting, to say the least.

Jey growls, “man, you stay the fuck out of this! You ain’t even fucking family!”

“That’s enough, Jey,” Jimmy tries to advise, even though Jey is clearly past the point of conversing. “Roman, this ain’t…..this ain’t a forever thing, right?”

Roman feels all eyes on him as he answers without hesitation. “We’ll see.”

It’s only then Solo gives some indication of his true feelings. Rage. Slowly, he stands, and as he does so, Matteo sits forward, as if ready and waiting. But, Rikishi places a hand on his son’s shoulder. The two share a look before the Elder responds, “is this really what you want to do, Uce?”

No. Truth be told, it’s not really what Roman wants to do, because while he’s always butted heads with Jey at various points over the years, like he’d told Solana that one time, he knows—or knew—the twins always had/have his back. And vice versa. Knew they’d die for him the same way he’d die for them. 

But, things have changed. Feelings have changed. Whatever lied dormant all these years has resurfaced, and Roman has no idea if, and when, it’ll settle.

And what he ultimately wants to avoid is the other alternative. The one that he and Jey utilized years prior. 

Tribal Combat.

Something Roman was victorious in at that time, but not something he wants to have for a second round. Because the stakes are higher this round, much higher. Because while Roman was simply allowed to defeat his cousin and call it resolved the first time. The second time, he won’t be as lucky. 

This time, with everything that’s happened, Jey’s public display of disrespect, Roman can’t just defeat Jey in combat. 

He’d have to kill him.

It would be to the death.

And while Roman isn’t sure he could ever admit this aloud to anyone, not even Solana, it doesn’t negate the fact that deep down, he’s not sure if he could do it.

He doesn't know if he could kill Jey, and not because of lack of ability but lack of want.

He doesn’t want to kill Jey.

So, that’s why this route is the route he must take, and it’s why he answers calmly, “yes.”

And, it’s with that, his decision is made. Final and without appeal options. Roman motions for the Wise Man to see the now three disgraced men out of his office, his flushed face advisor moving to point and usher the four men out.

Jimmy leaves with his brothers and father.

It’s only when he’s alone with his cousin and half brother, Roman sees Dwayne nod, advising, “you made the right decision, brotha’.”

“You made the only decision,” Matteo agrees. 

Roman looks away, silent and questioning. 

Because while the satisfaction of knowing one problem has been handled should settle the Tribal Chief, the nagging feeling that another entirely different one has just been created is something he can’t push away. 

—-----------

It’s a battle of senses. Roman’s sense of smell fights with his auditory system as he steps foot into the home. He smells the delicious aroma of whatever his beautiful wife has prepared for them this evening, and he also hears the music that’s playing through the speaker system throughout the home.

A small smile falls on his face as he walks gingerly toward the room where the music seems the loudest and the scent of dinner—and more—lures him. 

Roman proceeds gingerly when he’s in the vicinity of seeing her, but her not seeing him. The smile is conjoined with a warm feeling that only she evokes as he realizes not only is she singing along—he loves to hear her sing—but she’s playfully dancing around the kitchen as well. 

Roman maintains his safe distance to secure his ability to observe. To see the big smile on her beautiful face as she moves around the kitchen, one of those god-awful shirts Jimmy has made for him every Christmas on her frame that Solana stumbled across and has commandeered for herself ever since. And with her is Dulce, tail wagging, jumping up on her hind legs every so often as she “dances” with her mom.

But, it’s the way she occasionally brings her hand to her stomach, lovingly, protectively, that moves Roman the most. The way her eyes briefly close, clearly taking in this moment of pure bliss and long-deserved happiness. 

A similar feeling for him as well.

This. This is what he needs. Her. Her light. Her love. The balm she is for him on even his hardest days, and today is definitely up there on the list of difficult times.

You got a fast car

Is it fast enough so we could fly away?

Still gotta make a decision

Leave tonight, or live and die this way

A brief thought crosses Roman’s mind, an idea that prompts him to step away and head for his office. Hitting the light, he moves over to the bookcase set where his Canon sits. Years of experience allows him to switch the lenses and adjust the settings in a matter of minutes, allowing him to return without alerting his wife of his presence.

He starts with photos, snapping and capturing this moment in still shots. But then, the desire to bottle all of it—audio and video included, fills him, prompting him to switch to the record option. Roman watches her through the viewfinder, admiration abundant. 

So, I remember when we were driving, driving in your car

Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk

City lights laid out before us

And your arm felt nice wrapped around my shoulder

And I, I had a feeling that I belonged

I, I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

Solana spins around and laughs at the sight of Dulce also spinning around, but it’s also in that moment she becomes aware of the fact that she’s not alone.

Solana shouts in a mixture of surprise and fear, slapping her hand over her mouth. “Roman!” It’s the initial shock of seeing he’s present followed by the awareness that he’s also recording. “No. Ro, I look terrible!” She tries to hide her face, prompting him to remind her of what he’ll gladly spend the rest of his life doing.

“You look beautiful.” His compliment grants him her dropping her hands just enough to give away the fact that she’s hiding a smile. “You always do.”

Solana doesn’t say anything, just nervously darts her eyes up and down, asking, “how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.” Roman stops the video and lowers the camera to walk over to her. Solana leans up and wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him, as he murmurs, "missed you today.”

Because, he has. Any moment not spent with her and instead spent dealing with bullshit just intensifies that ache and borderline empty feeling he has whenever she’s not around.

Her smile is wry and playful. “You just saw me this afternoon.”

Roman absolutely picks up on the fact that she’s teasing him from his response to seeing her this afternoon, prompting him to remind her, “I did more than just see you, baby.”

“Roman!” She squeals when his hand drops to her bountiful ass, giving a squeeze. “Stop it.”

He’ll do no such thing, but he will allow her to bring him over to the stove. One hand holding his, Solana uses the other to stir around whatever is in the pot. She then grabs another smaller spoon, scooping up some and lifting it to his mouth. “Try this.”

He does so, easily. It only takes a second for the taste to set in. “It’s delicious,” he compliments. “But, everything you make is good as fuck, Sol. You know this.”

Her cheeks redden, as she explains, “it’s a new recipe I was trying. Got it from Afia. It’s Nigerian. Something called Gizdodo,” she says the name with uncertainty, sheepishly admitting, “I was worried you wouldn’t like it.”

“Solana, I love everything you make.” He loves everything about her, including and especially her excellent culinary skills. “Except that damn soup.”

Solana rolls her eyes, taking the spoon to toss it in the sink. “Roman, don’t start with that.”

“It’s not that it’s not good,” he defends. “It’s good as hell. There’s just nothing to it, and I’m hungry an hour later.”

Solana rolls her eyes and moves over to him, hands on his chest. “Ro, you’re hungry an hour later even when I don’t fix you soup.”

“Yeah, but I’m hungrier when it’s soup.”

Shaking her head, she goes to take the camera from him, pointing out of the kitchen. “Go change, so we can eat. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Roman answers by kissing her temple and lightly slapping her ass, prompting her to giggle as she playfully pushes him away. Dulce barks from the floor, clearly wanting his attention as well. Chuckling, he kneels down and pets her. “Hey girl,” he gives her a brief belly rub before sending her to resume her stalking of Solana by the stove. 

15 minutes later, he’s out of his work clothes, dressed in sweats and a short sleeved shirt, finding his wife still by the stove. He realizes she has the same song as before playing clearly on repeat.

Roman moves behind her, arms around her waist as she leans back into him, explaining softly, “my mother loved this song.” A quiet admission as he kisses her temple in a comforting gesture. “She—she used to play the original all the time while she cooked, and I used to dance with her, and in those moments, everything was fine. It was just….just me and her, and we were happy…..I was happy.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, just allows her to speak and share freely. He knows she's been working with Gail on processing her confusing feelings towards her mom and would never do anything to make her feel invalidated. Hate. Grief. Love.

It's all valid.

Her eyes shut, and she sighs heavily. “We’re not going to be like them, Ro.” Solana turns her head to look up at him. “We’re not going to be like our parents.”

It’s one of the easiest things he could agree to, and some of it, he can’t deny, is due to the conversations he’s had with Lita about the very same thing. “No. We’re not.”

She smiles, but it’s small, weighed down with memories of the past. He can relate entirely. “They’re gonna have a childhood.” She turns around again, so her head remains tilted back into his strong chest. Roman’s hand snakes down to her belly, protective placement. “A happy one…”

He’s in agreement. 1000%, but there’s something about her sentiment, a combination of all the conversations they’ve had the past few weeks that has him sharing something he’s gone from briefly contemplating to seriously considering. 

“Sol….” She looks back up at him, expression expectant. Roman lifts his hand to her cheek, index and thumb gently tipping her chin. “Let’s move.”

Naturally, she’s confused, her smile almost reluctant. “W…what?”

“Not out of state,” he clarifies. Though, if possible, he wouldn’t be entirely opposed to that either. Away from all these damn people. “A new house.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “A new house?”

The shock in her voice makes him chuckle. He nods. “Yes, baby. A new house.” The hand on her stomach moves around in a small circle. “Let’s build something. You tell me what you want in it, and I’ll have it made.” Solana continues to look astounded, Roman adding in a small voice. “A nice backyard for them….”

Solana turns around, forcing his hands down and to her hips. “You’re….you’re serious?”

“Yeah,” he answers. Roman lifts his hand to the small of her back, further explaining as he looks around. “This place is mine, and it’s been mine for years. It’s yours too, but it’s got more me than you, and I want it to be us.” He moves to cup her face, asking gently, “does that make sense?”

Because this house has been solely Roman's for so long, holds so many memories and experiences that no longer represent the future he wants. This was his bachelor home.

And, that's not what he wants anymore.

He wants a family home.

He wants to give his wife the home she wants and his daughters the kind of home that they deserve.

“It does.” Solana slides her hands up his chest, locking them behind his neck, her lips curving into a wide smile. “We can really build our own house?”

He chuckles. “We can do anything you want, Solana.”

She giggles, scoffing in disbelief. “Then….” She bounces a little against him, a clear sign of excitement. “Then let’s build a house.” Roman smiles as she moves to hug him, gasping and asking, “wait, I can design my own kitchen?”

“I’m certainly not going to do it,” he answers, chuckling when she slaps his arm. He watches how delight fills her eyes. 

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” she muses, sharing with continued elation. “I can have a kosher kitchen!”

“I have no idea what that means, but sure.”

Solana rolls her eyes and hugs him again, murmuring into his chest, “thank you.” And before he can remind her once again that she never has to thank him for anything he does for her, she peers up at him with those mischievous eyes. “Gotta start preparing for our six kids, huh?”

She’s quick to move away, giggling and opening cabinets to pull out plates. “Don’t start with that shit again, Solana.” Her laughter continues, a stark contrast to the serious expression on his face. He’s almost certain that one sentence alone has spiked his blood pressure. But, it pales in comparison to what his numbers must be when he catches onto something. “Did you just say six?”

—---------

His breathing is heavy, her fingers gliding up and across the sheen of sweat across his back. Roman continues to pulse inside of her, coming down from yet another shattering orgasm, every drop of his cum depleted inside of her addictive pussy. 

Solana kisses his temple, evoking a contented sigh. Carefully, Roman lowers one of her legs from off his shoulder and removes himself from her, plopping down on the bed beside her. Seconds later, she’s moving on top of him, laying against him.

“Ya know…..” Solana pants, clearly trying to catch her breath. “For someone who claims he doesn’t want a lot of kids, you sure do love doing the thing with me that can give us all those kids.”

He scoffs, explaining, “you’re already pregnant. I don’t need to be careful.”

Curious, Solana inquires, “and when I’m not pregnant anymore?”

Roman shrugs, continuing to glide his fingers up and down her arm. “Then, we’ll be careful.”

A scowl falls on her face, Solana unwilling to hide her displeasure or her stance. “I’m not getting on birth control. I don’t want to.” And she knows he won’t make her either. Will respect that decision and her. “So we start using protection–

Roman is immediately shutting that shit down. “I’m not using condoms.” 

Solana smiles knowingly, burying her face into his chest. 

No condoms. 

No birth control.

She’s certain she’ll end up pregnant again in a matter of months after the twins are born.

Roman will just have to deal with the “consequences” of them being so sexually active without any barriers to protect them from pregnancy. 

He’ll be fine. 

She snuggles even closer to him, dwelling in the comfort that always comes with being pressed against his body. He always makes her feel so safe when they’re cuddled together, but there’s something about this time that deters that. A feeling that nudges at her, prevents her from doing so, from getting comfortable, because it feels so obvious.

It’s why she sits up and looks down at her husband, asking, “what’s wrong?”

Solana is expecting him to deflect. She knows he’s been trying hard, working hard in therapy, to be more open with her, but it’s still a struggle. So, it partially surprises her when he answers, “I need to talk to you about something.” 

And right away, she knows she’s not going to like whatever he’s about to share. “O—okay.”

Roman’s hesitation is visible and palpable. “I know….I know you want this pregnancy to be as normal as possible, and I want that too. I want to be able to give you that—”

“And you can,” she cuts in, anxiety rising with the way her chest is starting to feel a little tight. She thought they already discussed this. “You have.”

His eyes briefly dart to the side of the room. “Years ago, when there was….a protocol when the wife of the Tribal Chief was pregnant. She....she would spend the pregnancy….away.”

Yeah…..Solana knew she wasn’t going to like this conversation. 

At all.

She sits up completely. “Roman, what are you saying?” His silence is damning. “Are—are you sending me away?”

“No.” A relieving answer preceded by a stressful follow-up. “Not…not unless I have t—Solana.” He stops mid-explanation as she kicks the sheets off and moves to get out of the bed. “Sol—”

“No,” she cuts him off, voice icy and slicing. Solana looks over at him, face filled with confusion and distress. “I can’t—I can’t believe you would even suggest that.”

Roman also sits up, running his hand over his face. He knew this wouldn’t be something she would enjoy hearing, but it’s something she needs to hear regardless. “Baby—”

He tries to reach for her, only for Solana to jerk away from him as she rises out of the bed. He ultimately decides to let her leave, closing his eyes when she slams the door to the bathroom. 

“Fuck….”

Again, it’s not that he expected Solana to be thrilled about this, especially as they’d discussed just this morning just how excited she was about all of this. About experiencing this pregnancy with him, and he can’t deny that those confused feelings he was experiencing about said pregnancy at the beginning have started to gradually shift to something likened with excitement.

That there was a sense of joy that filled him hearing confirmation that Solana is in fact pregnant with twin girls. Just like their dreams.

Dreams that have slowly been becoming a reality, but there’s also a darkness to his reality. One that places Solana in a tremendous amount of danger once news of her pregnancy starts to reach the wrong ears. 

And while there is some hint of decreasing that danger by “leaking” the fact that she’s carrying girls and not a boy, so not an heir, that’s something Roman could never be okay with. Nor does it take away the danger of her pregnancy being “public,” because her pregnancy, no matter how they could try to spin it, just puts an even bigger target on her head.

And, it’s that target that he finds him struggling with. It’s been there since the day she became his wife, but the fact that it’s even bigger, or will be, is unsettling to him. It’s why he’s found himself thinking of ways to minimize that risk, and the biggest, possibly best way, would be to have Solana spend the rest of the pregnancy in hiding of sorts. 

He’d maybe even consider letting her go to Mexico. Let her be around with family. But clearly, she’s not okay with any of that. 

At all. 

And, it’s not as if he’s thrilled about it either, because while he’s still working through feelings about being a dad, there’s a small part of him that feels a sense of grief at possibly not being able to experience that with her. Her first pregnancy. Their first pregnancy.

But, that grief is largely outweighed by his desire to protect her. Protect them.

He’ll do anything to keep his family safe.

Anything.

The sound of the shower running alerts Roman to the fact that Solana won’t be coming back to bed anytime soon, which is why he finds himself kicking the covers back, finding and sliding on his boxers and stepping over to the bathroom. 

He’s not surprised to find the knob unlocked, already knowing she just wanted space in the moment, not to not be around him at all.

It’s why he quietly closes the door behind him and walks over to the shower, seeing the backside silhouette of her nude frame standing under the running water. Roman removes his boxers and is careful, meticulous in the way he opens the shower door to join her without actually disturbing her.

Naturally, he moves to stand beside her, his arms around her, gently turning her around to face him.

“Shit.” Roman knew he upset her, expected as such. He just didn’t know how much he upset her, because the water droplets swimming down her face, trickling from her bangs can’t hide the fact that she’s clearly crying. 

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he’s immediately apologizing, kissing her forehead, eyes shutting. “Please don’t cry.” Because she’s the only person on this earth that he actually cares about upsetting. It’s the last thing he ever wants to do.

The sound of her sniffling is a punch to his gut, but not as painful as what fills him hearing her soft, quiet, desperate response. “Please don’t send me away.” He looks down, meeting her teary, scared eyes. She shakes her head. “I can’t—I can’t do this without you.”

Sentiments she’s expressed before, especially after her nightmare a few weeks back, but something she obviously feels the need to reiterate. 

“I’ll—I’ll do whatever you want me to do, but—but not that.” She swallows, her voice shifting into something more determined, fierce almost. “I am with you. Always. No matter what.” She moves her hands up to his face, whispering, “to the end, Ro.” Head tilted, lips pressed together, she asks in a quiet voice. “Okay?”

Roman nods. He won’t risk further upsetting her. She can’t afford it. Not…not in her condition. 

He leans down to kiss her before reaching for the wash cloth laid across the shelf and motioning for her to turn around so he can wash her. An act of love and affection that she reciprocates for him before they both find their way back to bed, Solana sleeping peacefully atop him.

But, it’s short lived sleep for Roman who eventually escapes the sanctuary of their bed and trades it for the seat outside on their balcony.

Something....something is off.

He can't put his hand on on it, but he feels it. The situation with Jey, Rikishi, and Solo could be it, probably is a large part of it, why Roman can't shake this uneasy feeling.

It could be Cosa Nostra related, because things have been quiet on that end. Perhaps too quiet. But, Dwayne and Matteo continue to reiterate that the few men they trust back in Italy continue to keep them in the loop, and nothing has raised alarm.

Matteo has even been ever transparent regarding the reports he sends back to the Administration regarding Roman's activity. All truthful. Nothing damning.

But, all of that is what makes it so difficult for the Tribal Chief, because a tangible issue is a solvable issue. An invisible one is nothing but a possibility that may be nothing.

Or may be something.

And Roman knows he would have to have something to justify sending Solana away. She would need a clear answer, an explanation as to why he's doing the very thing she begged him not to do. And telling her it's because he has a hunch that something is off simply won't cut it.

Roman sits there for a good half hour, thinking, overthinking, and something beyond that even. He goes over it all, from the moment he first met his wife to the moment just a few hours ago where he agreed to her request. He evaluates it all, not from Roman, the man in love with his wife, but from The Tribal Chief, the protector.

The warrior and fighter who recognizes the one and ultimate goal in this situation. 

Protection.

Because he lost his family once before.

He won’t lose them again. 

Eventually, Roman walks back into the room. He moves over to the side of the bed where Solana is on her side, sleeping peacefully, completely oblivious to the decision her husband has come to. 

He crouches down beside her, watching her, studying her face before his attention drifts downward. To her stomach.

Wordlessly, he reaches a hand to place it atop the thin sheet, settling it atop her belly, those damn feelings intensifying all over again.

“I don’t know a lot about any of this.” Something he’s gradually coming to grips with with every day that passes where he learns something new about the two tiny human beings growing inside of his wife. Roma’s eyes fill with something that can only be likened to dedication. “But….one thing I do know how to do is how to keep you safe.” His voice is low, whispered, drenched with vulnerability that would never leave the sanctuary of this space. “And, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you and her safe.” His eyes fill with a sense of dread, regret, and immense determination. “Even if she ends up hating me for it.”

[jogetsobsessed]

Mud Puddles - Seth Clearwater

This is based on this request !! I had a lot of fun writing it, thank you so much to the anon who requested this! Also, I hit 100 followers, so yay! Thank you so much to everyone for being patient with me and my unreliable posting. I hope you all enjoy!

“Come on Y/N”, a squeaky voice called from ahead. 

You bounded through the countless mud puddles littering the Clearwaters property, the heavy raindrops soaking through your clothes. But you didn't care. 

You didn't care that the cold was reaching your bones or that the mud most likely had wrecked your favorite t-shirt. 

No, you simply were having the time of your life, chasing after your best friend, who was equally as dirty (if not dirtier) than you. 

It was some make-believe game that his older sister had taught the pair of you that had the two of you sliding all around the yard. Today marked the season's first “good” rain, turning the sizable lawn into your own slip-and-slide. 

The game went on for hours, each of you taking countless turns at being game leader, trekking through the wilderness, finding different treasures to take back to your shared treehouse, one that his father had built the two of you as a shared birthday gift years ago. 

Eventually, the chill did catch up to both of you, as you reluctantly marched back home, taking the time to jump in just a few more puddles. Once Seth had burst through his back door beckoning you to follow you were immediately stopped by his mother, who almost had a heart attack at the sight of him and you. 

Head-to-toe mud was caked on your bodies.

“Seth Clearwater and Y/N Y/L/N what on earth were you two thinking”, Sue screeched as she rushed off to find towels to attempt to clean you off enough for her to get you home. 

She was still yelling about how she couldn't believe the two of you managed to get that dirty in one afternoon and how you shouldn't be left unsupervised any longer. Leaving you and Seth standing in front of the sliding glass door, clothes dripping on the linoleum. You were focusing on the sound of your teeth chattering when you felt someone staring at you. 

Your gaze tracked to your left and you saw your best friend, teeth chattering and looking like a drowned rat staring back at you. As soon as he saw you looking back at him a wicked grin broke out on his face and he threw his head back, howling with laughter. 

Soon you joined him, laughing so hard that your cheeks started to hurt almost instantly. And there stood the two of you, ten years old, laughing until Sue came back in the room, accepting the towels she brought, and you happily agreed to stay for dinner. 

Life couldn't get any better, not when you lived in Forks, down the street from your best friend on the entire planet. 

The cruelness of reality caught up to you only a mere month later. 

When your parents sat you down after you had got ready for bed one night and explained that in just a couple weeks you were going to be leaving your childhood home, and the town that you loved. They did their best to try and explain how it was a smart economical decision for your family, your dad got a new high-paying job. Bribery was their main tactic, explaining that you were going to get to decorate your new bedroom and pick out some new toys and clothes for your new school. 

But it didn't matter. 

Because all you heard was that you were moving twenty hours away. 

Twenty hours away from your best friend. 

It was like your entire world was crumbling apart. The light from within was blown out. 

They promised that you would make new friends. 

But you didn't want to make new friends, not when you had the best one in the entire world. 

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

Rolling into town you truly had no plan. 

Your mom had heard from an old coworker of hers that the Clearwaters still live in the same house from your childhood. Sue and Harry had always been the type of people with an open-door policy, and you were hoping that their generosity still stood to this day. “You're always welcome in our home Y/N’, Sue had told you all those years ago when you ran to their home, tears streaming down your face after your parents told you about the move. You didn't need a place to stay, just someone to talk to and catch you up on everything from the last ten years. 

The turns in the road came to you naturally, it was like riding a bike, something you never truly forget. Crossing through Forks, turning left onto the reservation. And just like the drive through town, nothing had changed. 

And when you came upon the familiar gravel driveway you felt like you were ten years old again. 

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

Your hand was hovering over the faded green door, the peeling paint revealing the old shade of brown it used to be. 

Your thoughts were racing, what if Sue didn't recognize you, or thought it was weird you had just shown up out of the blue after all these years? Part of you wanted to turn around and haul ass back to San Diego, and just pretend that the past few days and this road trip didn't happen. 

But you knew that if you showed up back home so soon you would look like a complete fool to your parents and your friends. You came all this way for this moment. 

The sound of your knuckles rapping against the wood caused the sounds of someone moving about the kitchen to halt. Footsteps padding through the house were the next sound and you took a step back, preparing for whoever you were about to come face to face with. 

“Y/N?” a voice said, completely startled. 

“Sue!”, you mirrored, relieved to see the woman you once considered a second mom. She stared at you in shock before opening the storm door fully, ushering you inside, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. Laughing you hugged her back, breathing in her familiar smell of pine and fresh bread. She pulled away but kept you in her outstretched grasp admiring you. 

“I can not believe how grown up you are”, she fawned tears in her eyes. 

“A decade away will do that to yah”, you said laughing slightly. 

She ushered you through the house and into the kitchen. You sat on the barstool where she directed you, accepting the glass of water and a small plate of cookies she pushed in your direction. Comfortable silence fell over the two of you as she stood on the opposite side of the counter just gazing at the sight of you. 

Conversation flowed freely after you broke the silence, complimenting her on the cookies. 

You were in the middle of laughing at a story about Leah learning how to drive for the first time when the sound of the front door crashing open sounded through the house. Sue immediately rolled her eyes at the sound, muttering something inaudible under her breath. 

Heavy stomps bounded into the kitchen but came to a sudden stop. 

“Hey honey, we have a surprise visitor” 

Slowly you pushed yourself around on the stool, taking in the sight in front of you. 

Saying he was handsome was an understatement. 

He stood tall, his tan complexion glistening with sweat and his jaw dropped to the floor. Your smile was weak as you watched his eyes look you over from head to toe, drinking in the sight of you. 

His gaze drifted past you, looking at his mom who seemed to understand what was going on, even if you didn't. 

Sue left the room, sliding past you and slipping out the back door. Leaving just you and Seth in the kitchen. 

Slowly you slid off the stool and took a few steps towards him. As you approached a loud snort escaped you and you snapped your palm across your mouth trying to stifle your laughter. 

“What is so funny?”, he questioned cocking an eyebrow. 

Your laughter only got louder as you had to crane your neck back to meet his gaze. Confused he started to laugh a little too, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at you. 

“You were two inches shorter than me when I last saw you, that's what's so funny”. 

His laugh was full this time, finally understanding where yours was coming from. Now he stood what seemed to be eight to ten inches taller than you, definitely surpassing six feet. 

“I can't believe you're here, standing in my kitchen”, his voice was soft as if he didn't want to startle you, as if this was a dream. His hand slowly reached out towards yours. And when your two hands met you could have sworn you felt electricity. He coughed back another laugh, a nervous energy suddenly taking him over. 

You rubbed your thumb over his unnaturally warm hand as you met his gaze again, giggling before you threw your hands around his neck. He faltered for a second before he wrapped his arms around your waist lifting you and tilting you around slightly. You squealed, caught off guard by the gesture, tightening your grip on him. 

Seth sat you down and continued to stare at you, watching every slight movement you took, almost like he was afraid you would disappear. Tugging him towards the living room, the two of you sat on opposite ends of the loveseat, tucking your legs into your chest so you could turn and fully face him. 

You wanted to know everything about him. Every detail about the past ten years of his life. Because even though it had been almost that long since the two of you had an actual conversation you still felt drawn to him. Like no time had passed at all. Looking at him behind the new adult body you still saw the ten-year-old that you had once loved. 

Seth knew. 

He knew from the moment that you turned around. 

You were his person. 

The imprint bond was just like everyone, all his brothers had explained it. 

Suddenly Y/N was his reason for existing. 

The same girl that he had been having dreams about since he was a child, the same girl who he had pined after, breaking down in secret whenever she got brought up in conversation. The same girl who had been missing for over half his life. 

He had been able to communicate it with Sue by just the look in his eyes, and he was grateful she had gotten the hint and left the room. This was something that he needed to process with as few eyes on him as possible. 

You were none the wiser, simply laughing about the reversed height difference the two of you now shared. Why would you know, you hadn't been around when Seth phased for the first time or experienced the hellish year that followed the Cullen's returning from their short time away from Forks. 

And he was glad. You had been kept safe, far away from the danger that the supernatural world possessed. 

Seth wanted to tell you, he wanted to tell everyone. Something deep inside of him was telling him to jump up and scream it from the rooftops, you were his imprint. 

But he knew he couldn't. At least not right now. 

You didn't have the slightest clue about anything supernatural, so he certainly couldn't start by telling you that the two of you were meant to be together. That the two of you were going to be tied together for the rest of your lives. 

So for now, he didn't. 

For now, he relished in your company, listening intently as you told him about your life. About everything he had missed during your absence from Forks. 

And he was content, someday you would know. But not today. 

[bones4thecats]

Hey there Bones! Is it okay to request Tokyo Revengers Draken, Taiju, Hakkai and Hanma with a short and shy Reader that worry about them whenever they get hurt and the Reader patches them up. At one point Reader ends up crying because they're worried their boyfriend might die.

If this is too much you don't have to do it.

Shy! S/O Crying In Fear Of Their Life

Type of Writing: Request Character: Draken Ryuguji, Taiju Shiba, Hakkai Shiba, and Shuji Hanma Name: Shy! S/O Crying In Fear of Their Life Requester: @koushiro23

A/N: This nearly made me tear up. This is why I don't have a boyfriend myself U-U

Spoilers for: Tenjiku Arc

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🐲 Draken knew how upset you would get whenever he would come over with injuries all bandaged up

🐲 He understood that you cared for his being like how one would care for their spouse, and he couldn't blame you, he couldn't fathom the thought of you being injured in a similar fashion

🐲 But, during a recent fight, he had quiet a few injuries and your home was nearby. So, he called you up and told you he was coming over and you might wanna ready some bandages

" Why? Oh god, did you get into another fight?! Are you alright, Draken?! " " Yeah, just bleedin' a little. I'll be by in a couple, okay? Don't worry. " " Yeah, okay... see you. "

🐲 Rushing around your home, you were glad your family wasn't home at the moment, since seeing their child's boyfriend come in with injuries would make them go on-edge

🐲 Once you heard your front door open and your boyfriend call out your name with obvious strain in his voice, you came out with a pillow and blanket

🐲 Draken sat down on your couch as you wrapped the blanket around his legs, making sure he was warm and you ran in and out of the room carrying bandages and whatnot

🐲 As you continued to cover his minor injuries, he noticed that you would stiffen and sniffle every time you saw a new cut

" You okay, love? " " Oh lord... Draken- why on Earth do you do this shit? You know how much I fear losing you! Why do you keep doing this?! I just- I can't even bear the thought of you getting hurt and then, you not... you not coming back to my embrace... "

🐲 Tears swelled up in your eyes as his widened in shock before looking down in shame. Why did he do this? For Mikey? He guesses, he also just wants to keep you safe, and establishing his dominance helped

🐲 He sighed and wrapped his arms around your midsection, pulling you onto his lap as he kissed your forehead, making a silent promise for only you to hear

" I'll try to be more careful, okay? " " Okay... " " I love you, Y/N L/N. " " And I you, Ken Ryuguji. "

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🔥 He was beyond upset right now, punching holes into the walls in rage as he heard his followers yelling in the other room

🔥 Why did that damn fight go so wrongly?!

" Taiju- " " WHAT?! "

🔥 He froze in place as he saw your smaller form flinch at his loudness, oh god, why did he just yell at you?! He guesses he was madder than he even realized

" I brought some stuff to fix you up... I figured you still had some sort of injury on yourself... " " Uh... yeah. Sorry for yelling at you, I just- " " I understand. You're under some stress. "

🔥 Taiju smiled lightly at your words as he chuckled, you always had the ability to calm him down from his highs of blood-lust and anger, haven't you?

🔥 Allowing him to find somewhere comfortable to sit so you could come up and bandage his hands up from the multiple holes in the walls, he gritted his teeth as you dragged a rag with alcohol on it across said injuries

🔥 Once you had begun to wrap the final bandages around his knuckles, he looked up at your face, noticing how your eyes were starting to fog over with tears

🔥 You were starting to cry? For what reason?

" Y/N? Are you okay? " " Hm? Oh- yeah. Perfectly splendid. " " Horse shit. I know when my dear S/O is feeling down better than anyone else. What's wrong? "

🔥 Sighing in sadness, you began to rant about how scared you were for him. Some of the hits that their rival gang was throwing at them were scaring you, he could've been killed when that guy pushed a knife through his hand!

🔥 Like, what if he hit an artery? What if that injury got infected and somehow killed him slowly?

🔥 He just sat there holding you in his lap, allowing you to cry into his chest, his Black Dragon's uniform pushed away to the side as he pet your head

🔥 You really were a worry-wart for him, huh?

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☄️ You're boyfriend was not answering any of your calls, and that was starting to scare you deeply. Hakkai always answered you

" C'mon hon, answer me... "

☄️ Nothing.

☄️ It was at that moment where you heard your front door being knocked on. And, grabbing your bat for protection just in case, you looked through the peephole, only to be met with the sight of your boyfriend's short blue hairdo

☄️ Laying the weapon aside, you unlocked the door, opening it so you could take in his beautiful form

" Hey there... " " Oh my god! Hakkai, what happened to you?! " " Just a little scuffle a few blocks down, that's all. "

☄️ Grabbing his arm, you pulled him inside, throwing him onto the couch, you ran into the bathroom. grabbing everything you knew would help him out with his injuries

☄️ Hakkai watched as you sat down on the table in front of him, coating his cuts with alcohol and other stuff to help it get clean and heal before wrapping decently sized bandages around said cuts

☄️ You eventually stopped moving and stared at one cut that was still bleeding, it was a very light amount, but it still scared you

" Hakkai... why do you do this? " " Do what? " " Fight so much? Do you know what could've happened to you?! You could've been killed! I know that may be an over-exaggeration, but, come on! I just- I can't bear the fact that just because of some over-grown bastard I may not see you again... "

☄️ He stared at you and looked into your eyes, now allowing tears to cascade down your cheeks, you were in so much pain

☄️ Hakkai, much like the previous two, grabbed you and pulled you into his lap. And he just brushed his fingers through your hair, shushing you and reassuring you that he was safe

☄️ He wasn't planning on leaving you alone in this world any time soon

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☠️ You and him have had this talk multiple times

☠️ You understood that fighting was a major part of Hanma's life, but why was it nearly every single night now he was coming home with injuries all over himself?!

☠️ Hanma had walked through your door while holding his arm, trying to keep something from you, no doubt

☠️ That was when you pulled him onto the couch and ordered him to stay put

" Ooh~ the midget is getting bossy. I like it~ "

☠️ You glared at your boyfriend over your shoulder and you walked into the bathroom and carried a box of medical supplies outside, making Hanma freeze and sigh

" Baby, I'm perfectly fine. " " I can see the cuts and blood on your head, Hanma. I'm not stupid. "

☠️ Turning on the TV, you turned around and began to make good work of his cuts and bruises, covering those you deemed most possible for infections

☠️ He sighed as s familiar name came on, Kisaki Tetta. He had been hit by a truck and killed while fleeing away from Takemichi and Draken apparently

☠️ This did not shock you, the guy was a lunatic. But then again, you were dating a just-as-bad lunatic

☠️ Like, Hanma nearly killed someone because they tried laying a hand on you while he was standing right there

☠️ But, listening to him rant about his fight with Draken and how Kisaki shot two members of Tenjiku made you grit your teeth and start tearing up

" Woah- uh- babe? You're kinda tearin' up there. " " I know... " " Why are ya' tearing up, if I can ask. " " Why? Because Shuji, what if you had gotten killed like Kisaki?! I don't know what I would be able to do without you here to make me feel safe, to protect me from all those nasty people out there! It's like- if you guys had switched places... I don't know what I'd end up doing... "

☠️ Hanma looked at his covered hand and sighed before standing up and picking you up, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist

" I do not plan on going anywhere like that soon. And while I may not have the plan fully worked out, believe me babe, I'll always come back to ya'. "

☠️ You smiled and hugged him tightly, making your boyfriend laugh and kiss your neck before blowing raspberries into the flesh

" Now... how about we have some fun, bossy pants? "

[girlgenius1111]

aftershocks

barça x reader

r tries to recover from the accident. it isn't as easy as she anticipates.

cw: panic attack, nightmares.

-----

Alexia was hovering. You'd been home for barely 2 hours, and she was sitting next to you, staring at you as you watched your allowed hour of TV, as if she was going to have to pick you up and take you back to the hospital at a moments notice. Her shoes were still on, her keys in her pocket. You knew was nervous and worried, but you wanted to not feel like a patient. Not when you were finally home. Well, at Alexia's home. Which had been yours before, and would, evidently be it again.

You shifted slightly, and your arm gave a twinge of pain at the movement. You winced unconsciously, barely noticing. Everything hurt, pretty much all the time; this was not anything special.

"What is it?" Alexia asked, sitting forward. She looked panicked, almost, and you had to remind yourself that she had seen you right after the accident. She was traumatized, and she was just looking out for you.

"I'm okay, Ale." You assured her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

She somewhat relaxed back into the couch, though she still looked ready to leap to her feet at a moments notice. You glanced down at your phone, checking the time, feeling only relief when you noticed that it was an appropriate time to go to bed. You were exhausted from the short car ride home from the hospital, and you were also exhausted of being in the presence of people. You loved your teammates, and the nurses and doctors had been incredibly, but you hadn't had a single second to yourself since the accident, and you were dying to just sit. In silence. By yourself.

You stood up, slowly, almost amused by the way Alexia got to her feet right away as well.

"I'm gonna go to bed, Ale, I'm exhausted."

"Good, you need rest. Cariño, do you need help with anything?" You appreciated that she'd asked, instead of just trying to help you.

"Maybe up the stairs, but I'm good from there." You said quietly. You were not, nor had you ever been, good at asking for help. You had to learn, and fast, because you were pretty sure getting up the stairs by yourself was an almost impossible feat.

Alexia smiled encouragingly at you, proud that you'd asked for what you needed, and hadn't just shook off her request for help like she'd expected.

You made your way to the stairs, and Alexia wrapped a careful arm around your back, making sure to avoid your ribs, and your bad arm, and also the bruises that littered most of your abdomen. There were very few places you could be touched right now without feeling pain, and even then, you just had to grit your teeth and get through it if you wanted to be able to move anywhere.

By the time you got to your bed, clinging onto Alexia when she moved to let you go at the top of the stairs, you were sweating a bit, and breathing deeply through the waves of throbbing aches washing over you.

You sat on the edge of the bed, waiting until the waves had subsided somewhat before looking up again. Alexia stood in front of you, and if you didn't know better, you would have thought that she was the only with broken bones by the look on her face, like she was feeling everything you were feeling.

"I'm alright, Ale."

"You should have slept on the couch, the stairs are too much for you. Or maybe you should have stayed with Lucy, or Ingrid and Mapi, they're all on one floor. Maybe tomorrow we can-" Alexia's word flew out of her mouth fast, and you could barely understand what she was saying.

"No. I want to be here. Please." You said, feeling embarrassment grip you tightly at how pathetic you sounded.

"Okay, pequeña." Alexia said easily, although the worry lines on her forehead didn't relent.

She got out your pajamas for you handing them over, before hovering anxiously at your side.

"I've got it Alexia, I promise."

"Yeah, yeah. Of course. I'll be back in a couple to bring you some ice." With that, she left the room, shutting the door behind her. You managed to change by yourself, for the most part. You your athletic shorts off, and the pajama shorts on fine, giving the large bandage covering almost the entirety of the outside of your left leg a wide birth. You got the shirt off too, carefully removing your arm from it's sling, and doing your best to jostle your abdomen as little as possible as you pulled the shirt up and over your head.

It hurt. A lot. Something so simple, and you were biting your lip to keep from crying out. You wanted to lay down, or lean over, or do anything to relax your body a little, but you couldn't do any of those things without help, or else your ribs protested heavily. You gritted your teeth, getting the shirt over your head. You couldn't get it on the rest of the way, though. You would have to wait for Alexia. You were wearing a sports bra, though, so you wouldn't be completely humiliated.

You would be slightly humiliated though. There were tears welling in your eyes, and your shirt hung pathetically around your neck. You sniffled every time you inhaled, and you felt so useless. You couldn't even get your shirt on by yourself. You were frustrated beyond belief, and you couldn't do anything about it because doing anything hurt.

Alexia returned, knocking softly on the door.

"Come in," you said, voice cracking on the last word, much to your dismay.

Alexia walked in cautiously, hearing the motion in your voice.

"I need help." You said, sounding rather dejected.

"That's okay," Alexia said, moving to your side. She tugged the shirt over your arms, carefully. "Anything else?"

"I just want to go to sleep." You admitted. Alexia nodded earnestly, helping you to recline back onto the pillows. She sat on the edge of the bed, next to you. Once you were settled, she placed an ice pack on your ribs, made you drink some water and take some pills, before brushing the hair off your forehead.

"Thanks, Ale." You mumbled.

"Of course. It's going to get easier, pequeña, I promise."

"Yeah." You didn't sound convinced.

Alexia's face lit up after a second.

"I know what will make you feel better!" She got up, rifling through the bags of your stuff on the ground. She found what she was looking for, standing and holding it up with a ridiculous grin. It was your stuffed blue dinosaur, the one you'd slept with since you were a baby. The team always made fun of you because you brought him with you on away trips, until you'd gotten so tired of the teasing, you started leaving him at home.

You slept better with him, though, as ridiculous as it sounded, and you made a mental note to thank Ingrid for stuffing him in the suitcase, and presumably hiding him from Mapi, because if she had seen, you would have heard about it.

"What is his name? Chester?" Alexia said, handing him to you. You tucked him under your good arm, rolling your eyes. Alexia knew his name.

"You know it's Cosmo."

"Right, Christopher."

You rolled your eyes again, but your lips turned up into a smile. Alexia beamed at the sight, happy her idiotic bit had made you smile, even if it was just a bit. "Goodnight, Ale."

"Buenas noches, pequeña. I'll leave my door open, shout if you need me, okay?"

You nodded in the affirmative, and Alexia left you to sleep.

You passed out almost instantly, body and mind drained from your somehow exhausting day. While you'd been in the hospital, you hadn't had any issues sleeping, likely do to the pain medication they'd given you. You didn't dream, and sleeping proved to be a completely peaceful respite, mind wonderfully blank. Now, though, you were just taking over the counter stuff, which did nothing to help you sleep.

They had had a psychologist come talk to you about the accident, but you'd waved her away, saying that you were fine. You thought you were. The car ride home had been slightly terrifying, but you'd really barely thought back to what had happened.

-----

It was more of a memory than a nightmare that hit you, and at first, it felt like you were just remembering the event, than dreaming it. It was as if you were watching the accident from above, yet feeling everything as it was happening to you. It was in slow motion, the car approaching the intersection, you going when the light turned green. You saw the car braking late, tires screeching on the pavement even as the it barreled towards you. You watched yourself turn your head, seeing the car through the visor on your helmet, the way the front wheel of your bike turned just slightly. This was probably what saved your leg, you think.

Then the car is making contact with the bike, and you're flying off towards the ground, rolling for a while, as the bike crashed and slid away, too. Just as you stopped rolling, you snapped back into your body, feeling all of the pain you remembered. Your breath caught in your throat as you writhed around in agony. You were stuck in that moment, the few seconds after the crash you'd been awake, an endless loop of the most you'd ever hurt, and the most scared you'd ever been. The sky was going dark, and you couldn't remember if this was a dream or not, all you could think was that you were sure you were going to die.

-----

Alexia had been in and out of sleep, jerking awake at the smallest noise. She'd checked on you every time she woke up, and each time, found you peacefully asleep. She wasn't sure why she was so worried; you'd been sleeping fine, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she needed to be awake for you.

It was around 3 in the morning when she woke again, hearing what she thought was you crying out. She was frustrated, the last few days having been exhausting for her too, and she had rolled over to go back to sleep, convinced that it was just her imagination again.

She sat straight up in bed a second later though, hearing another sound from the direction of your room. She flew out of bed, down the hall, and into your room, freezing when she saw you thrashing around under the covers. Your face was twisted up in pain, likely from the movements your body was making in your sleep. It was obvious to her what you must be dreaming about.

Alexia moved closer to the bed, heart physically hurting in her chest at the sight of you, tears leaking from behind your shut eyelids. She said your name once, twice, then a third time when you didn't wake. She scanned your body for where she could possibly shake you awake without hurting you, and settled on your uninjured right arm. She grabbed it, squeezing gently.

"Pequeña, wake up," she said gently, watching as your eyes flew open. They scanned the room, wide and wet with tears, and when you realized that you were not laying in the middle of the street, instead in your warm bed in Alexia's house, you lurched towards her.

You didn't get very far, crying out loudly when you moved even a fraction of an inch. You became aware that every part of you still ached, and though you weren't sure why, allowed Alexia to ease you back down onto the bed, until you were no longer aggravating your ribs. You reached your good arm towards Alexia, and she grabbed it easily.

"You're okay, pequeña, it was just a dream," she said. You nodded, but your chest still rose and fell rapidly, and you looked to be confused as well as in pain. "You are here with me, at my house."

"Hurts," you choked out, still not really sure why every one of your injuries was aching so badly.

"I know, you were moving a lot in your sleep. Just relax, I'll go get you some more ice," she said, moving to get off the bed. You let out a little squeak in response, and Alexia gave in, sitting back on the bed.

"It was green," you mumbled after a minute, somewhat calmer, but still shaking lightly.

"What was green?" Alexia asked.

"The light. It was green. I didn't do anything wrong, and I still got hit."

Alexia's face grew stormy, and you misunderstood.

"I promise, Capi, the light was green, and I even waited a second before going, like you're supposed to." You implored, and Alexia shook her head, shushing you quietly.

"I know, I'm not angry with you. It wasn't your fault. It was the other drivers fault, and he will pay for what he did."You didn't spend too long thinking about that, mind drifting off to other things.

"I thought I was going to die," you said, looking up at Alexia. You looked scared, terrified really, and it was clear that the full weight of what had happened was only just now hitting you.

I did too, Alexia thought. I thought I was watching you die on the ground in front of me.

"You didn't die, you were never going to die. You are fine, you are here with me, and you are completely fine." Alexia said conclusively.

"I'm fine." You echoed.

"You're fine." Alexia promised again. You had settled back into the bed, clearly exhausted from the whole ordeal. As soon as your eyes closed, though, they would snap right back open, flashing to Alexia, as if to make sure she was still there.

"I am not going anywhere, pequeña. I will stay right here until you fall asleep."

You visibly relaxed, eyes shutting almost immediately, and this time, they didn't jerk back open. Alexia stayed, as promised, until she heard your breathing even out, and your grip slackened on her hand.

She made her way back to her room, contending with the odd feeling that this was not the only time you were going to struggle with nightmares.

-----

As usual, Alexia was right. Every night, it seemed, you had the same dream, and every night, Alexia heard you, came into your room and woke you up. You were both exhausted, completely and to your core. Your fourth night home, you woke up with your fourth reoccurring nightmare. It felt like every time, you laid on the ground, in pain, longer. You'd woken by yourself, and you knew you hadn't been very quiet. Alexia didn't come, though, so you forced yourself to calm down, before getting up to make sure she was okay.

Your anxiety levels in general had spiked since the accident, and you found yourself worried every time anyone went... anywhere. You crept down the hall, good arm wrapped around your abdomen. Alexia's door was open, as she'd been leaving it, and she was tucked under the covers, still out cold.

You turned away, realizing the toll this must be taking on her. Dealing with you and your injuries during the day, your nightmares at night, and the team and training dominated everything else. You were old enough to deal with nightmares on your own, you decided. Alexia needed rest.

Your version of dealing with the nightmares was slowly making your way downstairs, before cozying up on the couch and turning on the TV quietly. You eventually drifted back off, and that is where Alexia found you the next morning.

She was sitting on the other end of the couch, feet tucked under her, as she sipped at a mug of coffee. You'd woken, you realized, because she'd turned the TV to a football match, and the change in volume had registered somewhere deep in your subconscious.

"What time is it?" You asked groggily.

"Almost 10," Alexia replied, looking away from the TV when she heard you speak. "What are you doing down here?"

"I... I was hot in my room, and it was cooler down here." Alexia raised a single eyebrow at you, but you held strong, maintaining eye contact.

"You were hot, so you came downstairs to sleep on the couch under 3 blankets?" Alexia asked after a minute.

"Once I got down here, I was cold, but I didn't want to go all the way back upstairs, so I used more blankets." You said weakly.

"What happened?" She asked, as if you hadn't spoken at all.

"Nothing."

"Pequeña," she said, sighing.

"Nightmare." you replied. Alexia's face changed, realization washing over it. She seemed to have just figured out that you hadn't woken her with a nightmare last night.

"I didn't hear you, did I? I slept through it?"

You nodded your head.

"I'm so sorry." She said, voice filled with guilt.

"Don't be. You don't need to wake up every time I have a nightmare. I was fine, I am fine." You dismissed.

"These nightmares... they've been happening a lot," Alexia stated, watching as your body physically recoiled away from the conversation. You stood from the couch, prepared to leave the room.

"Hey, don't run away from me. You can't just pretend the nightmares aren't happening, pequeña, they won't get better if you ignore them."

"I don't want to talk about it." You replied firmly, continuing on your way towards the stairs.

"Did you remember I'm leaving this afternoon? I'll be gone for a night, we have that away match in Sweden."

You hadn't remembered, honestly. You'd been pretty preoccupied with everything else going on, and when Alexia had asked if you would be okay with her going to the game a few days ago, you'd agreed easily. You thought you'd be doing better, mentally and physically, by the time she had to go.

You'd already moved into her house, were disrupting her entire life, not to mention waking her up every night. You wouldn't be the reason she missed a match, even if being by yourself was miserable.

"I know," you lied. "It's fine." You didn't turn around, instead keeping your back to Alexia.

"I can stay if you need me. Or you can go to Lucy's, she's out injured. The blonde offers gently, tone completely sincere.

"No, really. It's fine. I'll be fine."

Honestly, Alexia didn't believe you for a minute, but she knew you'd never admit that you needed her. She hoped you'd realize that it was okay for you to need her, to need help, and maybe the only way to do that would be to go.

She stood, walking towards where you stood, facing away from her. She turned you around carefully, leaving her hands on your shoulders. "Promise me you'll call if something happens? Or Lucy?"

"I'll be fine." You insisted, shrugging out from her grasp, and going to hide away in your room.

"That's not a promise, pequeña," Alexia shouted after you.

-----

Alexia left later that day, rather hesitantly, but left nonetheless. You had settled on the couch, still pretty much not allowed to do anything more than walk short distances. You were expecting a knock on the door any minute now, because there was simply no way Alexia wouldn't have instructed everyone that she knew in the city of Barcelona to check on you.

Instead of the predicted knock on the door, your phone rang. Leah's contact popped up and you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the phone call ahead. Aside from talking to Leah, briefly, over the phone in the hospital, you hadn't spoken to her since. Your screen time had been severely limited because of the concussion, but you knew Lucy and Keira had been keeping your national team captain up to date.

"Hello." Leah said, somewhat coldly. She was a worrier, and she was big on honesty, so the situation was obviously really hard for her. She was concerned, yes, but she was also angrier than almost anyone else. That was how Leah was, though. Her worry manifested as anger- she didn't like to be vulnerable and admit she was scared for you, so she covered it up with being angry.

"How long are you going to be mad at me for?" You complained.

"How long until you'll be back on the field after your stupid and avoidable accident?" Leah fired back.

You flinched slightly. It was avoidable. That was something that you couldn't get out of your head, that it was your fault. If you'd just listened none of this would have happened. It was your fault that everyone was worried, that Alexia had to see you so hurt, that she had to take care of you, that your teammates across the continent had to worry about you from afar. It was all your fault.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" Leah's voice jolted you from your spiral, and you forced a smile on your face.

"Yep! All good. What's up with you?" You asked, changing the subject. Leah looked at you, searchingly, not understanding what had just happened. You'd spaced out completely after she'd spoken, getting this fareway look on your face, growing incredibly pale. She worried something was going south with your concussion.

"Where is Putellas? I want to talk to her."

"Why?" You wondered suspiciously.

"Is she there?" Leah asked impatiently.

"No, she's gone for the night. Away game for the Champions League. She'll be back tomorrow night."

Leah's worry grew. "She left you there by yourself?"

"Leah, seriously I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine, kid. You just spaced out in the middle of my sentence, looked like you were going to throw up, and then snapped out of it. Is it your head? Are you dizzy? You should call for an ambulance just to be safe." Leah was rambling, feeling rather helpless.

"Jesus, Leah. No. It's not my head, I'm not dizzy, I. Am. Fine. Everyone needs to stop worrying."

The blonde wasn't dropping this easily. "Why did you freak out then?"

You paused. You could lie, Leah would be able to tell, and she'd probably call the Spanish military in to check on you. Or you could try to be truthful.

"You're right, it was stupid and it was avoidable. I shouldn't have been so reckless." You answer quietly. You watch as Leah's face loses all of it's frustration, melting into a completely soft, concerned one. She had the reputation for being harsh and strict, but really, she was the easiest to make fold. Her heart was too big to stick to any of the things she said when she was mad.

"I shouldn't have said that. I was worried, yes. You're an adult, though, and you can make your own decisions. And from what I've heard, the accident was completely not your fault."

You shrug indifferently. Leah tries to take a different approach. All the time she's known you, she's known you to be stubborn. She had to see how deep this guilt really went, and she knew how.

"Are you going to get a new bike?" She asked.

You scoffed. "No."

"Why? Because you don't want to, or because everyone else doesn't want you to?"

"Both I guess. Scaring everyone like that again wouldn't be fair, and all anyone would think about when I rode off on it would be the time I almost died." You pause, lowering your voice before aditting the next part. "And I don't really think I could ever get on one again anyway." Your cheeks flush red, and you avoid Leah's eyes on the screen. Admitting that you're scared is not something you're comfortable with.

"It's okay if you're scared, y/n. What happened was terrifying. There isn't anything wrong with having a hard time with it. Lucy mentioned you'd been having nightmares..."

"My god, has Alexia told everyone?!" You groan. "I'm not scared, they aren't nightmares, they are just dreams. I am fine. Tell everyone to stop worrying."

It's quiet for a minute after your outburst.

"I don't think you are okay. But I know better than to try to convince you to change your mind and be honest. Just... don't push everyone away okay? It's not fair to you. You need a support system right now. Let yourself lean on the people that love you."

"I'm fine, Leah."

She sighed deeply. "Well, if you decide to stop being stubborn, I'm always here for you, yeah?

"Bye, Lee."

With that, you hung up the phone, throwing down onto the couch, incredibly frustrated. You weren't being stubborn. You didn't need help.

You were worried about sleeping that night; even though you had been trying not to wake Alexia up, it was still comforting to know that she was there, just a room over. Now, you would be all alone in the house. You hadn't had any issues when you napped, though, so you decided to get ahead of what you expected to be a night of little sleep.

The couch was comfortable enough, and you left the TV on, the soft hum of voices, combined with the general exhaustion that plagued your healing body, quickly lulling you to sleep. It was afternoon when you dozed off, and afternoon still when you jolted awake.

It was the same nightmare, but it seemed that each time you had it, it felt more and more real. At the beginning, you could remind yourself it was a dream; now, though, you didn't realize that until you had woken up. Sometimes it even took a few minutes for you to get a handle on your surroundings, the pain in your abdomen from your rapid breathing not helping you.

This was one of the worse ones. The dream had lasted longer than ever, and this time, you could hear different people around you, telling you that it was your fault for being so reckless. People you loved.

You were sweating, laying on Alexia's couch, gripping onto the blanket wrapped around you like it was the only protection between you, and the death you had just experienced in your nightmare.

It took you a while to calm your breathing down, and by the time you did that, your ribs felt like they were on fire inside of you, burning from the movement. You realized you were crying, and that it wasn't because of the pain.

You'd almost died.

You were alive, you reminded yourself.

But you came so close to not being alive.

The voices from your dreams echoed around your head, and you could only cry harder, turning to push your face into the pillow underneath you. Nothing you did made the tears, or the body shaking sobs, stop.

After another 10 minutes, when you were seriously worried you were going to damage your ribs, you pulled your phone out. You should have called Lucy, really, but Alexia was the only one that had ever seen you even close to as upset as you were now, and you were sure she was the only one who could help you calm down.

Alexia's phone rang right to voicemail. She was on media today, you remembered, and she'd told you to call someone else on the team if she didn't answer, and if it was an emergency. You scrolled through your recent calls, clicking on the first teammate that you saw; Ingrid.

She answered after only two rings, and you could hear the sounds of the team hanging out and joking around in the background.

"Hi elskling!," Ingrid said, sounding happy to get a call from you. She'd been checking in a lot, which you appreciated, but you knew you'd been pretty distant with her, as you'd been with most of the team. Guilt was a funny thing, and bothering everyone more than you already had felt necessary. You hadn't called to catch up with Ingrid, though.

"Ingrid, can you get Alexia please," you choked out, swallowing a sob that threatened to escape you.

"Yes, of course." Ingrid's tone turned serious, and you heard her mumbling to Mapi, before she came back on. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"No, I just need Alexia."

"Okay, Mapi's just gone to get her. She'll be right here, I promise."

"Thank you," you say, voice nothing but a broken whisper.

"It's going to be okay, y/n, I promise." Ingrid said, and you tried to internalize her words. You heard voices moving closer, one of Mapi, and one, unmistakably, of Alexia, but the panicked version of her voice. One you'd been hearing a lot of recently.

"Hey, pequeña, I'm here," Alexia murmured over the phone. "Talk to me, what's going on?"

"Nightmare. Worse than normal." You get out. You're still crying, and Alexia can barely understand you.

"Are you having a hard time breathing?" She asks.

"No, no I just can't stop crying. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Okay, that's okay. Everything is okay pequeña. You're allowed to cry." Alexia assured you.

"It hurts, Ale."

Alexia felt her heart shatter at the hopeless tone of your voice. She couldn't fix this, not from so far away. She turned to Mapi and Ingrid, who were hovering nearby.

"Call Lucy, tell her to go to my house." She mouthed at them. Mapi whipped out her phone, walking away as she talked quickly into it.

"Sit up for me, cariño, can you do that?"

"Okay," you mumble.

"Do you have any water near you?"

"Yeah."

"I want you to take a couple slow sips, okay?"

You do as Alexia says, following her instructions for the next few minutes. You haven't really calmed down at all, though, and Alexia is relieved when she hears a knock on the door through the phone.

"Cariño, that's Lucy. Can you open the door for her?"

"I-I think so." You struggle to your feet, wobbling towards the door, and unlocking it with a shaky hand. Lucy is stood on the other side, and she moves forward as soon as the door opens, steadying you. You only feel relieved when you see her, all thoughts of being embarrassed pushed from your head, just desperate to stop crying.

"Luce is here," you tell Alexia.

"Okay, good. Do what she says, okay? And call me when you feel a little better?" You agree, hanging up the phone, and allowing Lucy to guide you over to the couch. She sat down next to you, rubbing your back softly.

"You're okay, kiddo."

"I can't calm down, Luce," you stutter out.

"You can, I promise. Have I told you about what Narla did the other day?"

You're slightly confused at the abrupt change of subject, but Lucy launches into a ridiculous story about Narla at the dog park. You don't really notice that the tears stop, that your body has stopped trembling so hard, until Lucy finishes her story, and miraculously, you feel significantly better.

"Okay?" Lucy asks, handing you your water, which you gulp down gratefully.

"Yeah. Sorry. Don't know what happened."

Lucy's expression is unreadable as she stares at you for a minute. She leaves you with the idea that there is a conversation to be had, but she doesn't begin it. You get the distinct feeling that she's waiting for Alexia to be there.

"I'll get you some ice." She says instead. She goes to the kitchen, and you recline back onto the couch, wincing at the pain. Lucy returns quickly, her brow furrowed in worry as she tugs your shirt up a little, and looks at the dark blue bruises of your ribs.

"Do they look worse?" She asks you, placing the ice pack on them.

"No, the same."

"You should call Alexia back, she'll be losing her mind." You shrug. "Y/n, come on. Call her." Lucy's voice is uncharacteristically stern.

"I hate worrying everyone." You admit weakly, but reach for your phone, clicking Alexia's contact.

Lucy watches as you talk to her, assuring her over and over again that you're fine, really. She can tell by Alexia's doubtful voice that the captain is thinking the same thing Lucy is; you needed help. Neither of them were quite sure how to get you to agree to it, though.

-----

didnt' mean for there to be another part but this got long so :)

[cherrryybeee]

Hi! I’d like to request a Natalie bot. In this story, Natalie and the User are secret girlfriends. Shauna starts to suspect that the User is secretly helping Natalie go against the group. Meanwhile, Lottie believes the forest demands a sacrifice. As things escalate, Natalie and the User are forced to run away together through the forest, completely alone.

i rlly hope i fulfilled this request and it's how you were envisioning it!! i'm sorry it took so long to write!

Fuck, *They* were fucked. *You* were fucked. *Everything* was fucked. This all started before way before the crash. Well not *way* before, but a couple months before. You and Nat were always close, the closest on the team besides Shauna and Jackie, and Van and Tai. You two were practically inseparable. You sat at lunch together, hung out outside of school, got ready for parties together, constantly had movie nights. You two didn't think you bond was weird, it was just normal, a normal friendly bond that two close friends shared. And it was still a normal friendly bond after you two kissed at one of Lottie's parties, and it was still a normal friendly bond after you realized you had a *major* crush on her, and it was still a normal friendly bond up until it wasn't. At one of your movie nights you couldn't hold your feelings in anymore and you told her, you told her how you couldn't stop thinking about her, you told her that the kiss you two shared at Lottie's party was your favorite thing you've every experienced, you told her how you've liked her for awhile now and you just never realized it. She just stared at you. Shit. She just kept starting, until she leaned in and kissed you. After that night everything changed, you two went on a couple dates before you guys made things official. It was a secret though, you two didn't tell anyone, no one suspected anything anyway considering how close you two have always been. 

After the plane crashed on the way to nationals hiding your relationship got harder. Sneaking off was difficult. Thankfully Tai led the soccer team to a lake where Lottie then spotted a cabin. It was like a gold mine, blankets, pillows, a riffle, a rope, lots of bullets, two rooms for Travis and coach Ben, the girls had to pile up in the main living room. There was also a plane by the cabin, it was covered in vines and branches. After just one night there though Lottie went to look up in the attic and found the corpse of the guy that lived at the cabin. He had been dead for a long while now, all that was left of him were bones. Even after you guys buried the bones people were scared of the attic, so you and Natalie slept up there to "prove it's not scary". In reality you two just liked holding eachother and making out with no disturbance. After what felt like a month being stuck in the wilderness, Laura Lee decided that she was going to try to fly the plane, then Jackie shared that Shauna was pregnant. Everything was going to shit. You guys spend half the day cleaning the plane off, once you guys cleaned the plane and cleared a path for her to fly, Laura Lee got in the plane with her stuffed bear, Leonard, in the second pilots seat. As she took off things were going well, she flew over the lake, everyone standing by the water watching her take off, hoping to be rescued. Those hopes were shortly killed off once smoke started coming from the plane, a couple seconds later the plane blew up. Lottie ran into the water sobbing. Everyone was upset. Laura Lee was gone, and not only that but with no rescue in sight either. A couple weeks after that things got worse. Shauna and Jackie got in a huge fight, which led to Jackie sleeping outside. When morning came so did winter, it snowed overnight and Jackie froze to death.

When winter came it got even harder, Nat had to leave early in the mornings with Travis to hunt and she didn't come back until sun down. It was well below freezing, everyone was hungry from Nat and Travis not being able to find any wild life. It was a nightmare and it got worse. Shauna had been talking to Jackie's frozen corpse in the meat shack for about two months now. The ground frozen over so you guys couldn't bury her. One day apparently Tai caught Shauna putting makeup on Jackie's frozen body and braiding the dead girls hair. Tai decided that whatever was happening needed to stop, you guys were going to cremate Jackie. That night Jackie did burn, well kinda, she *cooked*. The snow fell on the fire which caused the cremation to stop. You woke up from your spot next to Nat to the smell of meat, cooked meat. Freshly cooked beef jerky? It *definitely* wasn't that. It was Jackie, *cooked* Jackie. Perfectly roasted Jackie. Everyone's been starving and before any of you could properly *think* everyone was hunched over your old team captains body, feasting away. You were sat next to Natalie and when you guys finished, at her to the *bone*. You and Nat walked in, holding each other by the fireplace, processing what just happened. 

After that things kept getting worse, it was like a nightmare. A very *real* nightmare. Lottie was wrapped up in "listening to the wilderness", whatever the fuck that meant. She turned most of your soccer team into a cult. Javi showed back up, but he wouldn't talk to any of you or tell you giys where he was hiding. Shauna was angry, at herself, at the "wilderness", at being pregnant, at *everyone*. She ended up punching Nat, Lottie stepped in and let Shauna beat the shit out of her. 

Shauna's birth was traumatic. Shauna lost a lot of blood and passed out, luckily she survived though. Her baby boy didn't. Shauna was devastated. 

One day Misty was taking care of Lottie when she came down from the attic. She said that Lottie said, the wilderness demanded a sacrifice. What the fuck. Sure it had been awhile since the whole Jackie thing, and everyone was hungry. But killing people? To eat them? Each of you had to draw a card from the deck that someone found in the cabin when you first found it. It only had one queen so whoever drew the queen, died. Nat ended up drawing the queen. You felt like you were gonna cry, or puke, or punch someone, or all three. Nat ran, the girls chased her like animals. Running after her with weapons, shouting and howling. You stayed back at the cabin, Travis was there too. Javi ran out after Nat. You sat by the campfire letting tears fall until you heard something outside. You left the cabin, seeing Nat and you felt an immense pain being lifted from your shoulders. That all came quickly crumbling down though when you saw the girls carrying Javi's blue, cold, lifeless body. Travis broke down. You and Nat sat with eachother in the living room, you comforting her. Reassuring her it wasn't her fault. 

That night the cabin burned down. Everyone had to evacuate, grabbing everything they could before watching your only "home" out here crumble and burn down. Coach Ben also disappeared that night. The rest of the winter you guys built teepee tents, the warmth of the fire being your guy's only sense of comfort. No one thought it was weird how you and Nat were always cuddled up next to eachother, they just thought it was cold, and you two were best friends. 

By the time summer came, Lottie told everyone that the wilderness chose Natalie as their new leader. Your guy's little camp was nice though. Natalie was extremely stressed, with everything. Shauna became crazy, rude, a cunt. She always had something bad to say, was always picking a fight, was always in a bad mood. You tried to help around camp, helping Natalie. You felt Shauna growing suspicious. She would always glare at you and Nat. Natalie felt it too. 

Lottie was off the deep end. The whole wilderness thing was getting out of hand. Lottie was saying it *demanded* another sacrifice. The dinner that she brought it up Shauna looked at Nat a little too long for your liking. 

Nat knew where coach Ben was. She didn't tell you, you wouldn't make her. She didn't tell anyone. Shauna also had a feeling about that. Yelling at Nat, telling her to tell the group "or else".

This particular day everyone was talking by the campfire, nothing actually burning though since it was hot enough. Nat's bleached hair was heavily grown out. Her natural brown color coming in. Lottie brought up the wilderness needing another sacrifice and Shauna spoke up.  

"What about Natalie, i know she's the queen but clearly she's not telling us everything. Like where coach is"

Shauna had venom in her tone. You stood up from where you were sitting biting back. 

"Fuck no, we're not starving, we have animals and food okay we don't need another sacrifice."

Shauna glared at you, her gaze was cold, frozen, like Jackie. 

"What about two sacrifices, you and Nat seem to be real close"

The worst part was, you knew she was being honest. She would kill you both. NO doubt about it. You stormed off. Walking back to the hut you shared with Nat. No one else suspected you two, why the fuck did Shauna have to pay attention to *everything*. 

It was sundown by the time Nat came into the hut. 

"Shauna knows, i didn't tell her anything but she definitely at least has her suppositions... She also know's i know where coach Ben is, and Lottie's bullshit.. we're fucked"

She ran a hand through her hair, sighing. You didn't know what to do. Everything was going to shit and you had a gut feeling you needed to leave. The hut was quiet. Then you suggested something you didn't even fully think though. 

"What if we leave... I mean when we first crashed Tai had the idea to walk along the river downstream, she said we'd have a good chance of finding civilization... maybe.. maybe it's not a bad idea"

The hut went quiet again. Nat just started at you. 

"We could take our stuff in bags, like clothes.. and we could bring the rifle, one of the smaller knifes. leaving the axe and big hunting knife for them"

You stood up, grabbing Natalie's hand. After a moment she answered you. 

"Okay... I mean, we could try i guess"

It was clear she didn't want to fully leave. She was still the queen after all but still. That night she helped you grab all your shit, stuffing your clothes into bags, grabbing a small knife and the rifle, and the thousands of bullets you guys had. You two left in the dead of night. 

By the time morning came you two were still walking around. You knew you guys were walking north, towards the lake. You both had a backpack, you had the knife in yours and Nat had the rifle hanging on her back. Your hand was in hers. It felt nice, not having to hide. Sure you were still having some doubts. Like what the fuck were you two doing? Clearly you two didn't *fully* think this through. But you were just happy, to still be with Nat. Hand in hand. She brought your hand up to her lips and left a quick, small peck to the back of your hand. You heard a light, breathy laugh leave her mouth before she spoke. 

"What are we doing?"

Truth is you didn't know. 

[shelbgrey]

Hey, hoping to not disturb but I have a request for you :) a Benedict Bridgerton x reader

And reader is insecure of her body, for have maybe too much chest or maybe because of the acne in her face, and maybe he can comfort her in some way.

I thank you in anticipation <3 I’ll probably stay anonymous in this request, because of feeling too insecure, and maybe comment when you’ll post it

Hope you have a great day!!🫶🏻🌸

Beautiful (Benedict Bridgerton)

Paring: Benedict Bridgerton x Wife!Reader

Summary: even at her lowest Benedict thinks she's the most beautiful person in the world and only wishes she sees herself the way he does. As much as she looks beautiful in the masquerade mask he hates it because it hides the natural beauty her face holds.

MasterList ML2

It was the masquerade ball of the season. It was always the most overwhelming because the planning was overwhelming and exciting for Benedict's mother Violet Bridgerton. But since she was the hostess to the ball all her children and their spouses were expected there.

Benedict nor his wife were getting out of tonight, neither were his brothers and their wives. Benedict had only gotten halfway ready, slaking and getting a few drinks in with Colin and Anthony. Benedict knew the consequences he'd face from both his mother and wife if he showed up drunk, so he finished his 2nd drink and went off to find his wife before the ball started.

Y/n stood in front of the mirror in their bedroom. She let out a sigh, not feeling like herself tonight. She requested the staff to get ready alone tonight, telling them she simply wanted some peace and quiet. Truly she just didn't want them to see her body, she hasn't felt beautiful as of late. Y/n have always had some extra curves to her body and for a long time it didn't bother her, Benedict made y/n feel beautiful, but lately she felt like her chest was getting bigger in an unattractive way.

She fiddled with her navy blue gown. It was her favorite one and it always made her feel good, but it didn't matter how many times she adjusted it or did a few turns, it just wasn't helping the insecurities that were growing in her heart.

The door knob of the bedroom turned and Benedict walked in and smiled at the view of his wife. However, it didn't take him long to realize something was off with her. The way she was looking in the mirror. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, placing his lips against the skin of her neck and giving her a small kisses

“Something on your mind, love?”

Y/n felt her heart pounding against her chest, she loved the comfort of his arms truly she did, but the idea of him wrapping his arms around her waist right now made her feel nervous. Y/n didn't want him to notice the way her body felt right now.

“I just don't feel like myself tonight” y/n said softly. Her thumb gently ran across her lip, fixing the lipstick she talked herself into wearing. She studied her face again, seeing nothing but the few spots of acne on her chin and a couple on her cheek bone.

Benedict could tell she was struggling with something. He was also certain it had to do more with how she looked and the way she was examining herself through the mirror. He knew y/n felt insecure. Even when he would tell her how beautiful she looked, he could tell she didn't feel it. He let out a small sigh while tightening his arms around her waist.

“You look flawless, my love” he said, gently kissing her neck.

“Thank you darling,” she said softly. “but I just don't feel like hearing that right now”

Benedict stopped trailing his lips down her neck, but kept his arms around her waist. He was trying to think what he could say or do to try to help her feel better. He was still looking through the mirror at her reflection, noticing she had her eyes glued more to analyzing her physical appearance than anything else. “What would you like to hear then?” he asked gently, his eyes flickering to hers through the mirror.

“You don't have to say anything, my dear” she said softly, looking into his eyes through the mirror.

Benedict's eyes were filled with concern. He could see her looking at herself but not looking at all. She was picking out every imperfection in her appearance. It was something she did but it was particularly strong tonight. He turned her around so her back was facing the mirror and he was standing in front of her. He put his hands on her hips, squeezing them softly in his hands. “Can you just look at me for a moment, love?” she did as he said and looked up

Benedict studied her whole face. Her eyes were the most gorgeous things about her, at least to him. However, he noticed they seemed dull. He hated seeing no sparkle in her eyes. He brought a hand up to gently caress her cheek in his palm.

“Please tell me what's wrong. It's more than just not feeling like yourself. I know you. I can see that you're picking out every little flaw in your appearance right now, aren't you?”

All she could think to say is, “I'm sorry”

Benedict gave her a small, reassuring smile. He continued caressing her face and moved his other hand to hold her waist. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I just want to know what's going on in that head of yours right now, my love”

“I just don't like the way my body looks in any of my dresses... And the blemishes are popping back up on my face. I just, I just don't feel good when I look in the mirror lately” she admitted softly.

Benedict moved a thumb over to her chin and traced it softly. “Your body is gorgeous, darling. And you know my opinion on the dress you're wearing right now. As for the blemishes, they don't change a single thing. They are not more noticeable than your beautiful face, love. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you”

“What could you possibly see?” y/n asked softly.

Benedict brought a hand to her chin and lifted it up slightly. He stared her straight in the eyes and a very serious look filled his face. “Y/n, I don't understand how you can't see how breathtakingly beautiful you are. You're perfect to me in every way. The way the dress hugs you, your curves, the way your hair falls around your frame, the color of your eyes, lips, the tiny smattering of freckles. I see nothing but beauty in you when I look at you”

His words made her heart skip a beat. Y/n stared into his eyes with so much vulnerability. She couldn't ignore the way he made her feel, he always made her feel beautiful and loved. But at the same time that little demon in her mind wouldn't shut up, speaking words more powerful and more hateful.

Benedict continued to hold eye contact with her, silently begging her to listen to him. He wanted more than anything to be able to help her see herself the way he saw her. He could see the hurt in her eyes.

“Please believe me, love. I'm not just saying that because I'm your husband. I love you. Everything about you, completely. Can you just trust me?”

“I trust you, ” she said softly. “I've always trusted you”

He continued to look into those eyes, still holding her chin in his hand. The look in her eyes still gave away the vulnerable state she was in. He brought his other hand to her chin and gently held her face in his hands before leaning down and brushing his lips against hers in a soft, gentle kiss. He was trying to convey all the beauty he saw in her through this kiss.

When she needed to breathe, she pulled away and looked into his eyes and placed her hand on his jaw. “can we just forget about this? We have to be down in the ballroom soon” she said softly.

Benedict sighed softly as he looked down at her, seeing that she was trying to change the subject from her looks. “You don't have to pretend with me, love. But if you want to drop it, I will. For now. We have to get downstairs”

“I'm not pretending, Benny. I just don't want to talk about it right now” y/n kissed him on the cheek, trying to prove she was alright.

The one thing she felt thankful for about tonight were the masks. Violet loved throwing the masquerade ball and y/n looked forward to it every year, the beautiful masks, the music, everything. It just seemed so different and unique compared to the usual dances. But this year y/n was just thankful to hide the face that was truly beautiful.

There were two navy masquerade masks, one for y/n and one for Benedict. She grabbed the more feminine looking one, it truly was beautiful. Navy with black lace framing the eye holes and little white jewels lined the mask. “Will you help me, please?”

She held it to her face and gave Benedict the ribbons so he could tie it in the back.

Benedict wasn't buying her 'I'm fine' act, but went along with it anyway. He knew she needed to focus on something else right now because she was too focused on all the 'flaws' she saw in herself. “Of course, love. Turn around” he said as he positioned himself behind her and tied in the ribbons for the mask on her.

“Thank you, my love” y/n stood up on her toes and kissed his jaw, making Benedict's heart skip a beat. He smirked from behind her and fixed the mask so that it was perfectly in place. “You look simply ravishing, Darling” he said, his eyes moving from her face down to the rest of her body. He wanted nothing more than to take that dress off her and make her understand what he found completely, utterly beautiful.

“You're so handsome” y/n smiled up at him. Just because she didn't feel beautiful doesn't mean she ever wanted Benedict to feel low about the way he looks.

The corners of his mouth curled upwards at her compliment. He smirked down at her. His hands had found her hips once again and they slid up along her sides as he spoke. “You know, if you and I weren't expected in the ballroom right now, I'd be taking that dress off your body and showing you what I find beautiful about you, love”

“But we don't have time for that” she sighed and handed him his mask. It matched her’s, the same color except it didn't have all the lace and it had a more masculine shape to it and black designs around the eye holes.

“Sometimes I hate these bloody events and how much time they take up” Benedict sighed, taking the mask.

Part of y/n was grateful they had to be down stairs for the ball. As amazing as sex is with Benedict, she just didn't have the security or the confidence to show her bare body to him at the moment, no matter if they were married or not.

“It's only for a few hours, don't want to disappoint your mother and not show up”

Benedict took notice of how tightly she was linking her arm around his. He could tell how insecure she was feeling about her looks at the moment. Part of him understood, but another part of him was getting annoyed that she didn't see what he did. He was used to her being strong and confident at these events. This vulnerability was driving him crazy right now. “Of course we can't disappoint mother. If we miss her ball she'll have our heads on a stake”

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

The pair made their way into the ballroom and found themselves amongst other families. There was chatter from all around them as women compliment other women and the men mingled amongst themselves.

He turned his head down to his wife. “You sure you're going to be alright for a couple of hours, love?”

“I'll be okay, my love” y/n exhaled.

Benedict continued to look at her. He could see the uncertainty even through her mask. His hands found her hips again. His thumb rubbed softly along her skin. “I'm serious, darling. If you want to leave for any reason, say the word and I'll get us out of here. I don't want you to be miserable the whole night”

“Benedict, I'll be fine... Let's just go dance”

Benedict stared at her through his mask, not believing her for a moment, but he reluctantly nodded slowly. “As you wish, my love”

He led her out towards the dance floor. They were surrounded by guests already couples and dancing. He put his hands on her waist to hold her close and began swaying with her.

Benedict held her close as they moved slowly around the dance floor. He continued to gaze into her eyes through the mask. He wanted to reassure her. He knew her mind was still elsewhere. He decided to try a different tactic and brought his lips to her ear and whispered in that low voice of his that sent shivers down her spine.

“You look absolutely ravishing in this dress, darling”

“and you look devilishly handsome in this suit” y/n said softly.

Benedict chuckled softly and brought his eyes back down to stare down into hers. He pulled her body a bit closer to his. The look on his face was completely serious. He wanted her to listen to him this time and trust that he wasn't just saying it just to say it.

“I mean it, my love. You look so damn beautiful. I wish you could see what I see. See how the dress fits you perfectly. It's been driving me crazy ever since you put it on”

Y/n smiled softly as they continued to dance. It was a dance they've done a thousand times, each move was almost instinct or robotic. Their bodies were completely in sync while dancing. The way they moved around the dance floor was smooth and easy. Every movement seemed as natural as breathing. He watched her twirl around and then spin back to his body. His hands automatically had gone back to her waist and he pulled her body against his. It was as if she fit perfectly against him. His hand slid up along her spine while continuing to sway with her.

Y/n tried to concentrate on the moment she was sharing with her husband, but she felt like everyone was watching them and not in a good way. Y/n knew they indeed fit well together, but every time his hands touched her waist or thighs they just felt too large against his hands.

Benedict could tell that she wasn't fully focused on him, although she was trying to be.He lowered his head down to her ear again. “Your mind is wandering, love”

“I'm sorry, Darling” is all she could think of to say.

His eyes were unwavering while he continued to stare into hers. He knew she was nervous and insecure. The way she was avoiding eye contact with him proved it. He took her chin and tilted her head up so that her eyes met his. He kept his hand there to hold her head in place so that she couldn't look away. “Stop apologizing for no reason, love. You have nothing to be sorry for. Now look at me”

She looked up at him, staring into his eyes through the mask. Benedict's hand reached to cupped her chin. His body was still moving to the music, but in much more of a gentle slow moving sort of way now. His eyes were as intense as ever.

He took a deep breath. “Do you want to leave and go to our room?”

“yes”

Benedict didn't hesitate to take hold of her hand and start guiding her out of the ballroom. He didn't give a damn about the guests and any rumors that might be spread. All he was focused on right now was her. He led them quickly out into the hallway and didn't let go of her hand as he started moving them towards their room.

*Benedict's mind was set on a single focus: reassuring her and getting her to see how beautiful he saw her. The walk down the hallway seemed longer than usual, but that was only because he was silently willing himself to get her to their room quick enough.

Once they reached the door, Benedict pushed through and let her inside before entering himself. He shut the door behind them once they were both in and immediately turned around and locked the door. He wanted no disturbances for the rest of the night.

Y/n sighed, pulling the Mask off and throwing it on to the vanity. She covered my face. “I'm being ridiculous... I'm sorry about tonight”

Benedict immediately went to her and gently grabbed her wrists, gently pulling her hands away from her face.He was silent for a moment and just looked into her eyes while holding her wrists in his hands. “Stop. Stop saying that you're sorry, love. Tonight was not ridiculous. In fact, I want you to listen to me. Okay?”

Her cheeks went red from embarrassment but I still looked up at him, mumbling a small, “Y-yes”

He noticed the rosy tint on her cheeks and his heart skipped a little at the sight. He didn't want her embarrassed. He wanted her to understand.

“come here” He gently led her so she was standing in front of the full length mirror in their bedroom. He stood behind her, making her look at their reflections.

He wrapped his hands around her stomach and pulled her against his body. So that her back was against his chest and they were both watching their reflections in the mirror. He bent down and brought his lips to her ear and whispered softly.

“Look at yourself, love. Look at how you look in this dress.You said you didn't feel beautiful tonight. But that's not what I see, darling. When I look at you I see nothing but beauty staring back at me”

Y/n blushed, turning her head away from the mirror and nuzzled into his neck. He didn't allow her to turn away. He moved his hands from her stomach and brought them up to her waist instead and held her firmly against him. He continued to speak gently into her ear, trying to get her to look back at the mirror again.

“No, look darling. Look at how beautiful you are. You need to see what I see” He said softly then reached for the zipper of her dress as he stood behind her.

“Benny? What are you doing?” she asked softly.

He still had his arms around her while his fingers gently unzipped her dress. He continued to gently whisper into her ear while he started to slide the dress off her body, making sure to kiss her shoulder as he did so.

“I'm showing you what I see, my love. I'm going to make sure you know how much I find you absolutely stunning right now”

Y/n shivered when the cold air nipped her skin. She didn't like what she saw in the mirror, standing there in just her corset and underwear. Y/n’s cheeks went red when she saw how large her chest and stomach looked in the corset and she noticed every mark on her shoulders and the top of her breasts.

Benedict was staring intently at their reflection in the mirror. He wasn't focusing on her body in the way that she saw it. His eyes were more focused on her face. He saw how hard she was judging herself and it was killing him that she didn't see how he saw her. He let his fingers run across the lace of the corset she was wearing on her hips.

“Do you trust me, beautiful?”

“I trust you,” she said softly.

Benedict continued staring at her through the mirror as his hands continued to slide along the curves of her body. He was still watching the expressions change on her face from the way she was looking at herself in the mirror. “Do you trust me to show you how I see you, love? Do you trust me to show you that you are absolutely perfect in every single way?”

Y/n nodded, making Benedict smile. He leaned down and left a soft kiss on her shoulder. He let his hands move across to the laces of her corset. He began to loosen them up. His eyes moved up to her face in the mirror again. “I'm going to ask you to do something, love. Can you do something for me, my darling?”

“What is it?” she asked softly.

Benedict continued to slowly undo the laces on the corset. “When I take this off I want you to look in the mirror. I want you to look at yourself. and think about what I'm telling you. Can you do that?”

Y/n hesitated. “I'll try,” she spoke honestly.

He continued to move the laces of the corset around her waist, loosening them as he spoke softly to her

“That's all I'm asking, darling. I don't want you to judge yourself for a while. I just want you to listen to me and how I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world” Finally, with the last lace undone, he began pulling the corset off her body slowly.

Y/n didn't know what to say, she just stared into the mirror. Looking at her breasts, they had a couple of acne spots and freckles. Her eyes looked down and saw her curves and stomach.

He placed his hands on her bare hips, his fingertips gently touching her skin while staring at their reflection. He wasn't focusing on the 'imperfections' she saw. The blemishes that she felt made her less. To him, all he saw was love. “See how your body curves? Look how beautiful your body looks”

Y/n didn't respond so he continued to look at their reflection, his hands still holding onto her hips as he pressed her back against his body. He could see that she wasn't seeing what he was seeing. He continued to speak in a comforting voice.

“Those blemishes are not imperfections, my love.Those are the marks of the most stunning woman in the world. My stunning woman”

Benedict hated that all she could do was smile sadly. He wanted her to smile because she was happy. He wanted her to be proud of her body. The way she was still looking at herself in a critical way was driving him crazy. He wanted her to see herself through his eyes.

“Darling, don't you see it? The way your hips create the most perfect curve? I'm completely obsessed with you, love”

Y/n finally cracked a slight smile, her cheeks going red. “thank you” she said just above a whisper.

He saw the smile on her face and smiled to himself. He began tracing the line of her hip with his hands, gently moving along the skin.

“Do you believe me, darling? I'm not saying these things just to be nice. I'm completely and utterly in love with you. With every. part. of. you”

“I believe you” y/n said softly.

Benedict smiled and started moving her, so that she was now facing him. He bent his head down to capture her lips in a kiss. This time, the kiss was gentle but intense, showing all the passion and love he was feeling for her. He continued to kiss her for a few minutes, his hands tracing her body the entire time.

She felt better, not completely but she couldn't help but feel beautiful when she was with Benedict. They both knew this was just a small bulb they would safely climb across. She was beautiful inside and out and Benedict planned on showing her that till the day they die.

[love-bitesx]

May I request a hobie x fem reader

Reader is also a spider person and dating hobie. she gets in a fight with other spider people that been talking about hobie behind his back, And he just comfort her and help with her injuries.

: ̗̀➛ HONOUR. hobie brown x fem!reader

summary: after hearing fellow spider-people talking rudely about hobie, y/n defends him, taking a couples punches in the process. words: 1.6k warnings: fem reader, she/her pronouns used, mentions of blood & injury, miguels pissy like always, general mentions of fighting/violence

thank you sm for the request!! i hope i did it justice. im getting through all the asks, so pls be patient! ily all sm

"he's just a bit freaky, you know."

shoulders tensing, you eavesdropped on a pair of haphazard spider-people, their snark voices carrying through the reverberant room. you were sitting by the 'go-home machine' – aptly named – waiting for miguel to arrive and dish out orders, listening to them tattle about hobie brown.

"literally," a second voice tagged themselves in, jumping on the wagon of comments, "just turns up, acts like a prick and somehow everyone puts up with him."

chest burning, you tried to grasp your composure, gripping onto it with white knuckles – similar treatment given to the metallic desk you sat on.

first hand, you saw how hard hobie worked – having been dating him for a while now. though he lived to deny it, saying he was only in the spider society to look after you, gwen and pavitr - you constantly experienced his passion for keeping you all safe. even if its unconventional, he deserved his place here more than anyone.

"don't know what miguel was thinking bringing him here," the first spider snarled, a hint of a smirk lacing his tone, "he's useless."

stomach twisting, you physically bit down on your tongue - miguel would kill you in broad daylight if you started a fight in the headquarters (ironic, you thought, but you didn't want to bite the hand that fed you).

"freakshow, honestly," the other muttered, followed by a cold-hearted guffaw that made your blood spurt past the boiling point, "he doesn't even belong here."

as though someone had physically flipped your restraint, severing your ties, you turned to the duo, taking them by surprise when you shot a web in their direction, sticking the second man's mouth shut.

"what the hell?" the free one spun to you, stance ready.

you kept your posture strong, enraged eyes trained on him, "don’t be such a prick,” you spat through a clenched jaw. wrist aching at the urge to web him to the wall, your fingers itched.

he scoffed, stepping up to you, “i don’t think it’s any of your business, sweetheart.”

in your peripheral, your eyes caught the sight of the second spider clawing at the webs smothering his face, and you shot again – his hands now clasped together against his chest like a prayer.

a second audacious scoff sounded from the man in front of you, and a threatening tingle vibrated each and every bone of your spine – your spidey-senses alive with caution. it quickly became apparent why, when a fist flew towards the side of your head – an aggressive muttering of “oi, what do you think you’re doing?” accompanying it.

an inch before it connected, you ducked your head, crouching to the floor and kicking at the man’s knees. he buckled, falling to the ground and your fist collided with his jaw. your rage clouded your vision, adrenaline pumping through your veins like a poison. knuckles aching, pulled back, you webbed him to the concrete.

“y/n?” margo called from behind you, and you turned to see her. eyes wide like saucers, she looked at you with confusion.

“they start—” you couldn’t even finish your sentence when a powerful blow hit the side of your cheek, knocking you to the side, hip smashing into the corner of a desk.

shielding yourself with your arms, you caught vision of your attacker; the first man you webbed had freed himself, pouncing to you in defence. yelling something ending in “bitch”, he swung again, crashing into your ribs and you groaned in pain, connecting your web to a beam just behind him, pulling yourself away from his towering stance. with your new advantage, though winded, you raised your wrist to web him once more, when the huge, mechanical doors swung open.

“what the hell is going on in here?” miguel’s booming voice thundered across each vibrating wall, and you both froze, your arm gripped around your aching ribcage.

accompanying him was a cluster of spider-people, excluding your boyfriend. they took a second to adjust to the darkness of the room, before they halted at the scene in front of him.

“she went crazy, miguel!” the man on the floor shouted in defence, and your chest was heaving so heavily, you were at a loss for words.

“y/n, what happened?” gwen’s tone was soft, you could feel them approaching, your adrenaline draining through your body – taking any comprehensible inhibition with it.

“he swung at me!” you barked back, and the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you made your chest swell in anger, “don’t spin this on me when they’re the ones who started it.”

“we didn’t do anything!” unwebbing themselves from the floor, you stared at them, your eyes alive with rage, “she just came at us for no reason. she’s crazy, man.”

“i’m not—”

“enough! all of you!” miguel’s voice was heavy with anger, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t send a shot of fear to pierce your chest, breaking through the bone.

“i don’t care what happened,” he spat, looking at you like you were dirt on his shoe, “you two,” he pointed at your attackers, “get out.”

without a word of complaint, they filtered out behind your petrifying boss, and his enraged eyes fell on you.

"you," he paused, stepping until his lofty stature towered you, "you're one of our best, and you're picking stupid fights?"

"you don't understand, they–" you tried, grasping desperately at your side.

"i don't care what happened," he repeated his earlier quip, "it's not happening again, got it?"

reluctantly, you nodded, and he could practically see the flames in your iris, it burnt you to give over.

"go home, y/n."

"miguel–" gwen tried to intervene, but miguel wasn't paying attention.

"go home."

sitting on your bathroom counter, you struggled with the first-aid kit, hands trembling in pain as you attempted to patch up the skin that sat split open on your cheekbone. frustrated, you slammed the bandages and compact mirror down on the hard surface, chest burning with annoyance.

spine fuzzing, you felt the empty space change in your apartment, the tingling of static air putting you on edge.

"darlin'? you in 'ere?" hobie's rich voice carried through the walls, and you sighed in relief.

"hobie?" the bathroom door creaked open and he was standing there, dark eyes taking in your wounded appearance.

"fucking 'ell," he muttered, booted feet taking him to you, calloused hands gentle against your cheeks.

"you should see the other guy," a half-hearted smile played at your lips and you were melting into him, your anger subsiding, "well, guys."

"i heard," his expression didn't change, but his eyes scanned your open wound, "gwen wanted me to tell you she thinks you're badass."

a chuckle resonated in your throat, and you immediately regretted it as the vibration shot a bullet of pain through your bruised ribs. that's what hobie's mood shifted, his brows furrowed in worry and lifting your chin to him.

"what 'appened, pretty?" he reached for the first-aid kit, pushing your legs open to step between them – he tended to your wound softly, "can you tell me?"

hesitation brung you to a halt and you bit your lip. you had fought over him, defending him when he couldn't, but part of you wasn't sure how he would react. he saw this, sensing the tension in your chest, and longed to catch a glimpse inside your mind.

"look, i can't 'ave my girl get done up and not tell me what 'appened," a flash of his teeth as he smiled, and you reflected this, a tired grin on your lips.

"it was just," you sighed, wincing as he pressed a cloth to your cut, "they were being so rude."

"about you, darlin'? good on ya, defending yourself," he muttered affirmingly, dabbing the blood away.

"about you."

he stopped then. your eyes darted across his face for any signs of a reaction, nerves building in your throat. seconds of silence followed, and the air between you both almost dissipated as the tension grew. hobie squashed it, though.

pulling your face to his, he kissed you. lips warm with passion and respect, they melted together. hand falling to your waist, you were flush against him, the heat of his body overwhelming any of the pain pulsing in your skin. relief washed over you instantly. stress from the day just withering away at the power of his adoration.

breaking the kiss, hobie rested his forehead against yours, both chests heaving in tandem.

"you didn't 'ave to do that, darlin'," he muttered, and his brain was so conflicted. whilst his heart raced at the thought of you putting yourself in harms way to defend him, he felt guilty at how much pain it put you in to do so.

"you know i'd do anything for you, hobie." and his heart settled at that statement, nuzzling itself in the all-encompassing feeling of love overcoming him.

not feeling the need to do anything else, he kissed you again, this time with such a force you leaned back under the weight of him, shoulders pressed into the mirror. he was gripping your thighs, as to not tamper with the swelling bruise on your hip, and you succumbed to your boyfriend, lost in his touch, pouting when he pulled away.

"miguel's well pissed at you, by the way," he chuckled, cheeks flushed, massaging the skin of your thigh.

"i'm surprised it didn't happen earlier," you giggled, not excited to return to hq and see him again when needed.

placing a trail of kisses from your forehead to your lips, hobie's eyes softened.

"so proud of you, pretty."

[cloudyskydreams]

Yooo I really like that pregnancy ask and I wanted to suggest a what if! Pure angst and drama if you're up to it.

What if the pregnancy didn't go well near the end because S/O's magic is not very high (to begin with! monsters need both parents iirc to have a health about of magic to make a monster.) A couple of days after the baby bone is born, child protective services (the Canadian version of it.) have to take them to their father stating that the mother is in a coma and is unlikely to recover.

((What a way to start the day. Getting a knock on the door only to find a stranger hold a baby that they were so sure it wasn't theirs. AND their s/o is probably going to die because their SOUL magic was sucked up dry to make the baby. Said baby bones looks a bit unhealthy too because they developed without their pappa's magic and is weakly crying.))

((You can decide of s/o recovers or not.))

hhhhhh you guys need to be movie directors or something because the pure plot and drama being thrown at me recently.

S/O recovers because I like that route better having a free reign relationship with your child only to have the possibility of that taken away when your comatosed ex wakes up.

Holy fuck these turned out longer than I expected so I'm just doing 3 if you wanted a different character feel free to request again! Also the holidays are NOT being kind to me so my updates are probably gonna be wack as I deal with the shitshow I call a family hope you guys enjoy and happy holidays!

Undertale:

Sans: Sees the baby bones and kind of zones out as shock runs through his body. Then he hears the word coma and zones back in. "what?" he has them repeat their entire spiel and his soul stops for a second when he hears what happened. He hesitantly accepts the babybones and cradles him to his chest gently.He's not ready for any of this and his world is collapsing around him as he finishes the conversation with CPS. Once they're gone he takes the babybones inside and simply stares at him for a bit as he rocks him back in forth Infront of the door he hasn't moved two steps from. The baby is whining and looking at him is like looking at an exact replica of himself as a babybones. He takes a few deep breaths and chuckles which turn into a full body laugh which turn into sobs as he cradles the baby to his chest. Why didnt he trust you? He still loved you even though he was convinced you had cheated a part of him desperately hoping he was wrong but now that he knows he was it's devastating. He looks for monster food that would be suitable for a babybones hoping to soothe his cry's and get his bones looking healthier. The entire time he's shaking as he rummages through the cabinets. Finds something akin to applesauce and spoonfeeds the little guy. Goes out and picks up a bunch of stuff (good, toys,clothes ect.)when Papyrus gets home. The first night he can't sleep and simply stays awake watching the babybones all night. He vows he's going to be the best dad ever while staring at his baby boys sleeping face a rush of paternal protectiveness rushing over him. He does a good job at taking care of the baby as he has experience since he had to basically raise Papyrus. He visits you once and the guilt destroys him so badly he can't visit you again. It had been a few months when he received a call. Surprise surprise it's you on the other end having just woken up and wanting to see your child immediately. Sans is more than happy to comply and gets to the hospital as soon as he can with the baby who's looking much healthier. Hesitates outside the doorway as he cradles your guys son to his chest. Possibilities and what ifs running through his head as anxiety starts to simmer. When he enters the room you look so relieved and happy to see him which happily surprises him till he realizes you're probably excited to see your baby. He hands the child over and suddenly your crying, the baby's crying, he's crying, all of y'all crying. He apologizes profusely before you can say anything and says he should have believed you how wrong he was and how sorry he is you had to go through everything alone and his grateful he is to see you again. He understands if you don't forgive him but don't expect to be rid of him because he's absolutely sticking around in his son's life.

Edge:Honestly when he sees the child and hears what CPS has to say he thinks he's having a nightmare. He's dreamt of similar situations where your baby actually turned out to be his nothing quiet like this but it's similar enough he's really thinking he's still asleep. Takes the child and thanks the CPS people for their time before going back inside. Trys to soothe the baby's cry's and rocks him gently in his arms. Checks the clock to make sure he has enough time to get to his next appointment in the day and yeah he's got a good bit, wait.... you can't read time in your dreams. He looks back at the clock and gently sets the baby down on the couch as he does the equivalent of pinching himself. Fuck fuck wait he's not dreaming. A flood of cold numbers rushes over him as he remembers what CPS said... He gently scoops the baby back up and shelves his oncoming mental breakdown as he stares down at his son. When Red gets home Edge recruits him as a babysitter (his thought process being he raised me he can watch a baby for an hour or so (red was absolutely stressed tf out))as he runs out to grab supplies and sort himself out. By sort himself out I mean destroying a chunk of a forest with his magic to workout all his anger and devastation. He trys his best to take care of the babybones his brother surprisingly giving good advice every now and then while he figures out how to be a dad. He's extremely gentle with the child and speaks on the most soothing fatherly tone to the little baby. He visits you in the hospitals bi weekly leaving little messages of memorable moments with the baby and some pictures. A few months goes by and one day he receives a call. It's a very frantic you on the other end and he can't help the immense amount of relief he feels as he hears your voice begging him to see your child. He brings the babybones to the hospital and stays quiet as he watches you two cuddling. He doesn't speak up until you thank him for watching the babybones. Tells you there's nothing to thank him for he was doing his job as a father and then it's quiet for a bit more before he hesitantly approaches and bows his head. He apologizes for his actions, for not trusting you, for everything you had to deal with alone. He's not expecting you to forgive him he wouldn't forgive himself but he does want to be apart of the child's life and immediately says so making sure you're aware of his intentions. Most likely to take you to court for custody of you refuse to let him father his child.

Stretch:Was woken up by the knock and answered the door still half asleep. Hears the story, takes the kid, thanks them and closes the door. It takes him like five whole minutes until he's like wait what the fuck. Holds the baby Infront of him by the armpits and looks at his mini lookalike with horror. Holy fucking shit he was wrong? He's a dad?? YOU'RE IN A COMA?? He gets lightheaded for a second and sits down on the couch with the crying baby in his arms. He hesitantly rocks the babybones not really sure what he's doing and immediately calls Blue. He's shaking as he's on the phone with his brother who says he's on the way. When Blue gets there he shows Stretch which foods the baby can eat and how to care for it. Stretch appreciates the help and kind of throws himself into caring for the child instead of thinking about the fact you're in a coma. He's sleeping on a beanbag chair in the nursery and wakes up as soon as the baby starts crying. Every waking moment is spent caring and playing with the babybones. Sometimes late at night he thinks about you and everything he's lost and missed out on but you've given him the best gift he could have ever asked for, a son. He visits you in the hospital occasionally leaving your favorite flower and pictures of the baby he's taken. Surprise surprise a month later when he gets a call and you're alive desperate to see you're baby. He brings the child and is grateful to see you awake when he hands him over. He immediately apologizes he tells you how wonderful his son is and how much he loves him and begs you to let him be apart of the child's life. He understands if you don't want him back as much as he misses you he fucked up he wasn't there and you almost died because he wasn't. He just loves his kid man he will be there for him and you if you let him.

[mydearneteyam]

Hi! I was wondering if you’re still taking requests if so i was wondering if you could do a oneshot of so’lek x na’vi fem reader who is a warrior but is told not fight by medics and even so’lek at the resistance since she has chronic back pain but downplays it and acts as if it doesn’t affect her.

Like for example she goes on her own to fight rda despite what the medics say and comes back limping around as if nothing happened

I hope you understood that and sorry if its too long. I wanted to request this cuz i really like your writing so id really appreciate you if you make it, if you dont its totally fine.

A WARRIOR WHO CAN'T FIGHT ;; SO'LEK

summary ;; a warrior's stubborn behavior may change over time. or maybe not.

pairings ;; so'lek x fem!na'vi!reader

warnings ;; mentions of war, body pain, insecurities.

word count ;; 2.3k

word of the day ;; nawkx [nawk’] n. bone helm rhino

You cut the rope with your teeth, spit some of it out as you finished knotting and securing the basket you had accidentally broken earlier. You knew you were taking your time, but if you wanted your lie to stand, you had to try your best.

You stretched your body forward a bit more, almost crashing your chest into the ground to finish tidying everything up and gave a sharp inhale to stand up, feeling the sharp pain spread through your lower back, as it always did every time you had a sudden movement.

"And now…" with your foot, you lifted the fruits into the air so the basket could pick them up and once you were ready, you turned your attention to the path you'd had memorized forever. You were coming that way, you were going back that way. "On your way" you spoke to yourself, smiling.

Yes, there was a little blood on your clothes, but it wasn't yours, so your concern was minimal. You didn't abandon your big smile, even when, upon arriving at the headquarters, some humans already seemed to be waiting for you outside, with grimaces of obvious annoyance.

"You know what we told you! Are you even listening to us now?" one of them asked, but you swung your leg over his head, humming one of your clan's songs, disinterested. The tingling was present again, but as you threw your trunk forward, it stopped after a few seconds.

"Mother who brings us honor and life…" you continued to sing, putting the food aside and obviously ignoring the doctors at your back. Ha, funny. "Guiding our hearts through every strife..."

"It's not funny!" shouted your name this time one of the girls. "Do you think your life is just a game? You said you were going fruit picking and look at you!"

You analyzed yourself from head to toe, cocking your head to the side.

"Yes… and I brought fruit." You showed the basket, crammed with several, brightly colored and some not so much. "Finding a campsite a couple of minutes away wasn't something I expected either, but hey…" you laughed, tousling her hair. "That's on you guys for not letting me know it was so close. Maybe if you had told me, I would have given more thought to…going and helping out at all" even though you said those words, it was a lie. And you knew it. Everyone knew it.

Please, a Na'vi who would not want to go and put her life in danger knowing that her condition was thanks to the humans still in the land where she was born? It was impossible, you smiled, running your tongue over your teeth and pausing on your canines, with visible annoyance.

"You know you're not allowed to leave, everyone here has told you that. Even the warriors" she continued speaking, with concern and weariness in her voice. You had identified it for quite some time.

"I'm glad you have a good memory." you commented, pulling out a fruit and leaving your now arrowless bow in a corner. Although you looked at it from time to time, last time, they tried to hide it. "But I'm also sure you remember… that I'm an adult and I do what I do because I have to help my people…" your voice, as always, although understanding, was mocking. Maybe because the people who now cared for you annoyed you a little, always on you, as if they were your parents, as if it wasn't their own kind's fault that you had problems that now wouldn't allow you to fight.

"That's enough" you saw So'lek, just coming out of healings. You laughed a little to yourself, of course, just what you needed. Send the best warrior to talk to his own race. You ate some fruit, walking away from the place, grabbing your bow again and hissed at the pain in your back that bending over just a bit generated.

"Yeah, I think that was enough time off" you spoke between grunts. So'lek's scent reminded you of what you couldn't be and being in the same space as him complicated you. You didn't hate him, but you envied his state. Healthy, free, not needing humans to follow him wherever he went because his back worked perfectly fine.

Everything you couldn't be.

...

"How are you feeling?" asked Dr. Alma, looking at you passively. You scoffed, but shrugged, not responding. "Anything new to add?" you denied. "Everything as usual?"

"As usual" you concluded, trying to stand up, but the wires attached to you stopped you, you only managed to move the machines with you and the woman's hand rested on your shoulders, seeking to reassure you.

"Okay, I understand that this situation is not to your liking, but it's the only way you can get back to being better. That's what you're looking for, isn't it? To go and fight? To go back to being a hunter? A warrior?" she sounded almost sweetly, as if it wasn't something that was repeated to you every day. You sighed, taking the wires off in one fell swoop, tossing them aside and groaned as you stood up from the gurney, this time taking a couple of steps away from her.

"Be somebody, Dr. I want to be somebody again" you clarified, feeling the obvious annoyance in your body. Whenever you had revisions, something always told you to get out of there, the discomfort, your intuition, your instincts. You didn't belong in a place full of numbers you didn't understand or complex words only understood between humans or puppets.

Walking through the halls, you couldn't help but feel that the stares were heavier than ever. More than every day. You were a warrior, they must have been afraid of you! Why were they looking at you with pity?

As you left that space, that steel cage, you felt the scent of nature, the flowers growing around you, the animals talking to each other, communicating with life.

You noticed a small fire on one side. So'lek was there, checking his songcord. He seemed alone. You sharpened your eyes, wondering if it would be a good idea to approach him.

Whenever you saw him, you thought about how different they were. He was a full-fledged warrior, the humans respected him enough not to talk to him too much and many of the na'vi warriors from other clans who came recognized him for what he was, a brave companion and brother who sacrificed day and night for mother earth, for his people, for all the fallen, for each of you. You could take months counting day by day all those he had saved, throwing himself into danger. Even there you were, several times he had done his best to save you from the humans. When your arrows ran out, when your back pain was the most unbearable and left you helpless.

It was him. And that pissed you off. Because you always owed your life for him, but you could never save him. Because you couldn't. Your body couldn't afford something so extreme. As if it were ceramic, as if it were glass. Like an article of clothing that could easily be cut or snagged on a branch. That's why it was best to keep it tucked away, hidden from anyone who could hurt it.

"I see you, So'lek" you greeted, extending your hand towards him and he, with a calm look, nodded, closing his eyes.

"I see you."

You sat down next to him, getting into a specific position that could avoid the sharp pain in your lower back, almost reaching your thighs. You hissed, settling in.

"I see the pains are still present. The humans have not been able to help you?" he asked politely. You denied, squeezing your eyes shut a little and no longer feeling anything, you gave a sigh.

"Not really. I don't think they can do anything for me." you admitted, watching the wood burn for a few seconds. On the other side, So'lek was still looking at you, in a way you couldn't quite identify. You didn't want to believe it was pity. He should see you as an equal, shouldn't he?

"In the morning… Why did you go to the camp?" you watched him settle in and could almost feel scolded. "You could have hurt yourself on the way there and you don't have weapons like theirs. It was stupid. Impulsive."

"Because I'm stupid… and impulsive. Like a Bone Helm Rhino" you smiled at the last. They tended to call you that. You were stubborn, too stubborn not to accept that going and shooting humans was suicide for you.

"Yes, I think I see the similarity" he nodded and you looked at him. He mimicked your action and you looked down, not out of embarrassment, but out of discomfort. You weren't used to being close to him and a conversation couldn't lead you to that. "A warrior who can't fight… almost like a fable of our people…" he commented and you looked at him again. This time, you didn't look away.

"I don't like that title. I prefer something more ostentatious, like 'wounded warrior who follows to the death'" you tried to take the weight off your troubles, but you saw him settle back, cocking his head to one side.

"Bone Helm Rhino it is, then."

"A good title…if I knew how to wear it right."

"'Foolish inflexibility and unyielding determination are two sides of the same coin, Warrior" he commented, slowly getting to his feet, handing you some arrows. "You choose what you want to prove. Take a chance, but be wise with your decisions. Do not allow yourself to die. Your people… we are waiting for you at the end of the day."

You preferred to believe that the warmth spreading through your body was because of the campfire and not because his words were something that made you feel good. And for the first time in a long time, a feeling passed over the tingling that spread from your back down. Peace.

You looked at the arrows in your hands and settled back, hugging your legs. The bonfire would be extinguished before long, but you decided to stay outside a while longer.

" Unyielding determination…" you whispered to yourself. The only witnesses to that were the night and the small insects flying around. "Yeah, I guess that doesn't suit me" you laughed a little, for every chuckle, a little strum in your lower back pulled the muscles around it.

"Not even a little bit".

...

"You're doing good. Now, raise your arm a little more" you felt his hand tilt your elbow up and took a couple of breaths to keep from thinking about the pain. "How do you feel?"

"Like my insides are going to explode, thanks for asking" you spoke in a slightly higher pitched tone of voice and saw the opposite nod.

"Yes, I was told you might feel that way" you knew he wouldn't do it in front of you, but you noticed how he held back a small smile and you raised an eyebrow, grimacing "Eyes front. Both eyes open. You know where you need to aim" he indicated and you nodded. "Good. Shoot" you slowly released your breath and pulled the trigger.

"Perfect. You didn't hit the target. I didn't expect you to" he took the gun for you though. "The Kame'tire Clan's meds are just trying to take effect on you after all."

"So this was all just to make fun of me?" you asked, still in a bit of pain, but slowly dissipating. You denied, emptying the magazines.

"For testing. See if you could handle the gun and its weight. At least this way you can be more protected if you keep sneaking off to RDA camps" he commented nonchalantly and you got a little self-conscious.

"You don't mind if I go?"

"It's not a question of whether I care or not. It's about your safety. As long as you're secure and alive, I think I have worse things to worry about" he admitted. You smiled a little and before he left - because these 'classes' were brief because of his missions - you took his wrist.

"Thank you, So'lek. For… making me feel like someone again."

He hesitated a bit to respond. Avoiding looking you in the eye.

"You've always been someone. The only one who thinks differently is you, Nawkx" he nodded slightly and you let go. "But I'm glad I brought you back to a good view of yourself."

You smiled to yourself and cocked your head to one side, watching him leave. This time, there was no campfire to evade your thoughts about him.

But it didn't bother you at all to deny it.

"Thinking of something?" you looked to the side of you, So'lek arranged one of the feathers dangling from your hair. You shook your head, smiling as you set the basket full of fruit down in the center of the table. "I hope you didn't go to fight humans again?" you feigned indignation, with a chuckle.

"Me? Fighting humans? How dare you…" you cut the root of one of the fruits with the blade "After all, there are almost none."

"Exactly, almost. You always manage to find them." he reminded you and you rolled your eyes, turning to hug him. "Don't think it'll work like the old days… I can smell your lies."

"Oh, silly me, thinking I could outwit my mate with a show of affection so I could go fight like the warrior I used to be" you faked your voice, throwing your head back and reaching past your back, So'lek's strong arms held you.

"The warrior who couldn't fight and did it anyway. A good tale to tell."

"Just telling. Living it is a bit boring" you snuggled into the space between his neck, purring a little. A dry chuckle came from his throat and he nodded.

"I can imagine, Ma Nawkx."

a/n ;; it took me forever!!! i'm really sorry if it wasn't exactly how it was asked and sorry if it wasn't to your liking! i hope that in the future you'll still like to ask for another request! honestly i like how it kinda turned because i struggled at first how to write it 😔😔 i was listening to 'harpy hare' by yaelokre while writing this btw anyways, i love y'all ¡!

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 11 - Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien

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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: none really... a little bit of kissing interruptus.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This is a slightly transitional chapter after the seismic events in Chapter 10. Our couple have no regrets but cannot get time alone as our intrepid trio journeys to Aubrey Hall. Yes, here beginnith our latest trope: secret relationship! Thanks as always to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Portsmouth, UK, September 1939

Waking up in Benedict’s arms for a second time is a thoroughly different experience, a handsome smile creasing his face.

“Good morning,” he rumbles, and you feel it buzz in your cheekbone resting on his pectoral.

“Good morning,” you whisper, tilting to kiss his lips.

You want to burrow into his warmth, his naked body, curl around him like a vine. Forget the world; just exist with him here in this warm cocoon. His hand slides up your back, pulling you snugger into him as you kiss - languid, sensual, tongues touching, a stirring you can feel between your legs and in him where your thigh is draped over his lap.

Just as you are about to get lost in this, in him, there is a rapid-fire knocking on the door.

“Wakey, wakey, lazy bones! Let me in!” Eloise’s voice calls, muffled in the corridor outside.

You both swing your heads towards the door, then back to each other in almost comic unison, jumping apart as if burned, exchanging panicked looks as you scurry out of bed.

“Give me a minute,” Benedict grouses loudly for her benefit.

Then, there is a flurry of hushed movement as you fling open suitcases and rapidly throw on the nearest clothing. ‘Bed!’ you mouth, signalling for him to help. You work together in unison to make the bed, not to the point it doesn't look slept in, but certainly not the tangle of sheets from tumultuous lovemaking that it was. Belatedly, you realise you should have put a makeshift pile on the floor as if he slept there.

It's less than a minute from when you were naked in each other’s arms to Benedict opening the door to Eloise, you on the other side of the room attempting nonchalance. She wanders in, looking blissed out but also a little worse for wear, an apparent hangover clinging to her edges as she retrieves a hairbrush from her suitcase. You want to ask how her night was, but her frown stops you. 

“Doesn’t look like anyone slept on the floor…” she comments suspiciously as she pulls up to the mirror. 

“I am, in fact, capable of tidying away blankets and pillows after I use them, sister,” Benedict sighs and rolls his eyes, looking out the window. “It is what I was doing when you so rudely woke up half the hotel, in fact,” he lies.

Eloise sticks her tongue out at him in the mirror, which he roundly ignores.

“Your brother is a true gentleman,” you defend, staying intentionally vague, standing behind her and using the mirror as well to touch up your appearance. 

It's your turn to receive the Eloise look of scornful derision before you steer to a new, safer topic. 

“So, how was your night with Phillip?” you tease affably.

“Oh, he’s wonderful,” a wistful look claiming her face. A secret little smile you have never seen before. “We had such a memorable night.”

“Aaaand I don’t need to hear this,” Benedict deadpans. “I’ll see you ladies downstairs for breakfast…” is his parting shot as he heads for the door. 

But as Eloise leans down to grab a hairpin, launching into a whole story, he winks at you in the reflection, and your heart skips a beat.

——

“So, ready to party your life away in London?” Eloise chirps as the train trundles through rural Hampshire a few hours later. “It's not Paris, but it will do….”

“I thought we were going to your country home?” you frown.

“Well, yes, for a few days. But we can head back up to Bridgerton House for the weekend,” Eloise grins. “Phillip might be in town by then….” You chuckle at her lack of subtlety. “And we can find you a nice man!” she adds.

There is a scrunch of a newspaper diagonally across from you as Benedict’s grip tightens on the broadsheet he is holding, his face wholly obscured behind it.

“Oh, I don't know..” you attempt to laugh it off. “I think I might give that whole party lifestyle a rest.”

“Nonsense! You are not really a married lady, you know,” Eloise withers, rolling her eyes. “And you can take that off now,” she nods to your ring finger.

“Oh…” you fumble, touching it instinctively, the soft lamplight within the compartment making the gold glint brightly. “I thought it safer to wear it while we are still in transit,” you bluff, knowing Benedict is paying full attention to your conversation now, even as he hides behind The Times.

She frowns. “You have your residency now. The British government will not bother tracking you down with this war effort. You could get divorced tomorrow, and literally, nothing would happen,” she opines imperiously as if suddenly an expert on immigration matters.

“Better safe than sorry, Eloise,” Benedict pipes up, folding down the paper and removing his reading glasses with that lecturing elder brother air. His ring catches the sunlight as he does, making something bloom in your ribs to see it.

Just as Eloise goes to dispute it, her face instead lights up from the passing trolley service. “Oooh, snacks!” she exclaims distractedly, craning to look out into the corridor, allowing you to smile your thanks softly at Benedict unseen. His responding lopsided smile has your stomach vaulting.

Then Eloise is on her feet, chasing the attendant that rumbled past your compartment, apparently keen for refreshments. As soon as she is out of sight, you reach a hand across to him. He leans forward and grasps it with both of his.

“We will have time alone at Aubrey Hall, I promise,” he whispers earnestly, his eyes imploring, bringing your hand to his lips and making you stutter as he brushes warm lips over the back of your fingers.

“I want to touch you, Benedict…” you confess ardently, “all the time. So very much…”

His face is a storm of bridled intensity at your words, his pupils dilating rapidly. “As do I….” his words impassioned, even as his expression clouds wincingly, and you know where his thoughts have slid.

“But, Eloise…” you nod, understanding, reluctantly withdrawing your hand and sitting back, a tingle still on your fingers from his lips.

There is no way either of you wants to raise what is happening or what has happened yet. Neither of you is sure of anything except this magnetic pull between you—yearning to be together, alone.

“Yes…” he sighs, pained, slumping back into his seat just as the lady in question twirls back in, hands full with Cadbury's bars and a Fry’s Peppermint Cream.

“I thought you hated Peppermint Cream?” Benedict frowns as Eloise hands you both a Cadbury and immediately unwraps the Fry’s bar for herself, taking a big bite.

“I may be reassessing its merits,” she sniffs before leaning in to whisper to you, muffled around her mouthful. “It’s Phillip's favourite,” she divulges before staring dreamily out the window.

You have never known Eloise to change her mind about anything in the time you have known her, especially not from a man’s opinion. You just shrug at Benedict, conveying your equal surprise. Clearly, this one might be a serious contender.

—

Walking the connecting overhead path to Waterloo Junction for your onward train to Kent, you are startled when Benedict grabs your hand and places it into his coat pocket. You soon realise in the glass reflection ahead that the swish of the open fabric means the connection of your hands is unseen. 

Your heart pounds in your ears as you walk beside Eloise, her none the wiser as your palms grip each other, fingers laced. When you glance up at him briefly, you see the ghost of a smile at the corner of his lips, but he keeps looking ahead as if nothing unusual is happening. 

You want to kiss the little dimple right there at his sheer genius.

—

The onward leg only takes an hour and is filled with amiable chat, mostly about books and films. Soon, you are alighting the train at a charming rural village stop, the platform ablaze with neatly potted late summer plants of reds and yellows.

But you are struck with a sudden wave of nerves as a sleek car awaits you. You are not long away from meeting the rest of the Bridgerton family. Strictly, your family now too.

“Does anyone know?” You ask Eloise as the driver loads your cases into the boot.

“Know what?”

“That Benedict and I are married…?” You spell out, surprised she didn’t follow your train of thought. 

“Oh. Well. I didn’t call or telegram,” she twists to look at Benedict as he places your day bag on top of his. “Did you tell mother?”

He scoffs. “God, no. Not something I could begin to explain over the phone.”

“So what do we say? Or do?” You ask, subconsciously toying with your ring.

Benedict walks over and places comforting hands on your shoulders. It takes all of your willpower not to lean into him. “Don't worry. Follow my lead. I don’t think we can or should lie.” 

Less than a minute into the car ride, you sandwiched between the siblings, Eloise’s eyes flutter closed, face lolling against the glass. You signal to Benedict, and when he twists to see, his hand grabs your kneecap, fingers wrapping around and caressing the ticklish skin near the crease at the back of your knee. Something about this stolen moment is exciting, elicit, and endlessly arousing.

“I cannot go more than an hour in your presence without wanting to touch you,” he whispers, leaning close, his words a hot gust into your ear that has you melting.

“Same,” you murmur back, your hand sliding over his, mapping the raised veins with your fingertips, memories of the last night tumbling through your mind, those strong hands running over your naked flesh, grasping. It makes your breath hitch audibly.

“What are you thinking about?” His voice is a honeyed rumble that makes every hair on your forearms stand on end. He probably knows, but you confirm it anyway.

“Last night…” you mouth, turning your face into him so his lips brush your cheek. His grip tightens, and his breath rags into your hair.

“It's all I have thought about since…” he confesses; your chest flutters as his hand slides a fraction higher on your leg, playing with your hem. Every fibre of your being is calling for him. You want him to keep going, slide all the way up your thighs and touch you… but Eloise stirs, and instantly, his touch is gone, and you are left bereft. 

—

To call Aubrey Hall a country house is ridiculous. Your jaw drops as the car sweeps up a long gravel driveway to an enormous, handsome pile of a manor estate.

“Oh my god, Eloise,” you smack her arm lightly. “How rich are you!?”

She laughs. “What, that my brother is a Viscount doesn't give that away?” she guffaws.

“Well, I thought maybe it was an honourary title or something…” you mutter, feeling slightly embarrassed you don't know the full ins and outs of the British aristocracy you have clearly married into, entirely without knowing.

“Don't be intimidated,” Benedict soothes. “We are just a large family who inherited a big pile. I promise we aren't stuffy or cold.” You want to squeeze his hand for being so empathetic and reassuring.

“Or inbred!” Eloise cackles as the car stops, and you notice a beautiful, elegant middle-aged woman waving from the steps.

“Our mother,” Benedict elucidates before Eloise throws the door open and jogs up to hug the lady, who looks overjoyed to be reunited with her daughter after months away. You can tell Eloise is happy, too, even if her joy is more understated.

Benedict is by your side when you are out of the vehicle. A pillar of support, even if not touching you.

“Mum…” Eloise pulls her down the steps. “This is y/n!”

“Oh, it's wonderful to meet you!” the lady greets, pulling you into a welcoming hug that smells lavender and lilac. “I have heard so much!”

“Same!” you chime back.

Then it is Benedict’s turn to hug her; you swear there is an extra glint in her eye as if he is her favourite. However, you notice he keeps his left hand in his pocket throughout.

“Thank you for bringing them back safe, darling,” she reaches up and pats his hair affectionately as if he is still a child, not a grown man in his late twenties.

“We would have made it home perfectly safe without him, mother,” Eloise gripes with her trademark mettle.

“Eloise Bridgerton, you would have absconded to Saint Tropez if your brother were not there. Don't even lie about that,” Violet chides lovingly, and you can't help but giggle.

“Don't take her side!” Elose decries.

“Come on, it's true,” you laugh, bumping her gently with your shoulder as you walk in through the doors.

It is a beautiful stately home, but at the same time, it seems less imposing on the inside; it looks lived in and loved. A house that is full of family and life.

“You will meet the rest of the family later today,” Violet advises. “Well, minus our brave Viscount, who is in London with Churchill, and Daphne, who lives with her husband.”

“And Fran,” Eloise adds.

“Yes, Francesca is staying with her cousins in Bath,” Violet counsels as she guides you into their parlour.

“She’s barely my sister,” Eloise jests, dropping onto a sofa and grabbing a glass of water from a carafe on the coffee table.

Violet just shoots her an exasperated look while offering you a seat, too. “Eloise told me you were engaged, not already married,” Violet addresses as you get comfortable.

Benedict springs from across the room. “Ahhh, about that….” he placates with his left hand aloft.

“Is that also a ring I see on your finger, Benedict Bridgerton?!” Violet splutters.

“Mother, I can explain….”

And thus, he recounts the events of the last few days. Violet listening intently, looking, in turn, shocked, dumbfounded and proud. Of course, Benedict omits the whole part of the fact you are together romantically. Well, sort of. You think. You are dying to be alone with him so you can talk. Or perhaps do other more exciting things. That idle thought makes your cheeks flush.

“I am so very grateful to your son, Viscountess Bridgerton,” you jump in as much as to steer your own wayward thoughts away from dangerous waters. “Without him, I would likely still be stuck in France, all alone.”

His eyes dance with warmth as you glance at him, wanting to grab his hand and lace your fingers. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Violet has the most intrigued look as she observes her son carefully—the all-knowing eye of a matriarch.

“Well, I am so grateful you are safe, my dear,” she turns to you. “And please, for goodness sake, call me Violet. You are welcome to remain with us as long as you need or desire. You are family now, after all. At least for as long as you wish to be considered such,” she concludes, seeming to choose her words very carefully.

“Thank you, Violet,” you murmur, so grateful, already feeling a warm glow from her hospitality. “I could not be more honoured to be here for as long as you will all have me,” your eyes drifting back to Benedict as you say it.

The tender look on his face makes you touch your wedding ring idly with your thumb, and your heart leaps as he does the same. Although you swear you can feel the weight of Violet’s stare as you do so.

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