#it looks like a lot! but i think i can get it done this week

[majestyeverlasting]

Hello there! :) If I may, I’d like to request a Joel miller x reader ⇩

something where the reader is experiencing a migraine (headache + nausea and all that) and Joel tries calling her all day while he’s out and when he gets home he finds her asleep in pitch black room and realises what’s wrong, but knows exactly how to comfort his girl? 🥰

*im sorryyy if that’s long or weirdly specific it’s just something I’ve been struggling with lately and I need some comfort about it don’t mind me😻)*

𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Pairing Joel Miller x Female Reader 

Summary Joel comes home to find that you’re suffering from a migraine in bed. Luckily, he’s helped you through this once or twice. [no outbreak, hurt/comfort, fluff, 1.8k]. 

A/N Thanks for this request! I promise it's not weird at all. In my head, this is Joel and reader from here with you. 

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

Joel (8:57 AM) Sorry I missed you this morning, didn’t wanna wake you. Have a good day. -J

Joel (11:02 AM) Checking in. You up and at em yet? 

Joel (2:34 PM) Everything okay? Call you in a bit. -J

Still nothing from you. Joel locks his phone and rests his forearms on his legs. 

Today is the warmest day all week. Getting to ditch the extra layer is nice. Tommy shields his eyes from the sun as he exits a prim house with a spotless driveway and plush lawn. Beside it is another perfect lot, and another, and another, arranged around the whole cul-de-sac. He and Joel had been contracted to do a kitchen upgrade for the new homeowners and were in the process of working through the finishing touches.

From his seated position on the curb, Joel looks over his shoulder as footsteps approach. Tommy draws his leg back like he plans to kick him, and snickers when he leans out the way.

“Watch yourself,” Joel warns.

“Or what?” A smirk pulls at Tommy’s lips. “I’ll lay your old ass out on this asphalt.”

Joel shakes his head as Tommy sits down beside him with a grunt. A comfortable silence settles between them, and Joel fights the urge to check his phone even though it hasn’t buzzed. Tommy notices the slight tension in his shoulders but chalks it up to wanting to be done for the day. After the owners did their final walkthrough tomorrow, a three-day weekend awaited.

A cool breeze rolls through as Tommy stretches his legs out in front of himself, his jeans peppered with dust and dried specks of white paint. When he takes a swig from the bottle he walked outside with, Joel’s squints at the label, his interest piqued.

“Kombucha?” he says with furrowed brows.

Tommy nods as he swallows. “Sarah put me on,” he says after wiping his mouth. “Helps with your gut. Something like that.”

“A few crunches should do the trick,” Joel mutters.

Tommy snorts and elbows him. “Right back at you, smartass.” Joel huffs a breath at that. “Hey, what do you think about going fishing this weekend—Saturday maybe?”

When his brother doesn’t respond, he knocks his knee against his. “Anybody home?”

Joel straightens up in hopes of making his anxiety less evident. Except, he wears it like a second skin. To deny it would be to deny himself.

“What time you think we’ll be done today?” The break they carved out just started, but it’s his roundabout way of suggesting they get back to work. There wasn’t too much left to do if they locked in—some additional caulking, sealing, and polishing.

Tommy shakes his head as he calculates. “Three-thirty, four?” Then he narrows his eyes at Joel. “You’ve been sitting funny since I walked out here…”

Joel’s chest puffs with a sigh as he unlocks his phone. The text thread between the two of you is already pulled up, and all three of his messages to you are unanswered. Tommy leans closer to read them and bites his lower lip as the gears start turning in his head.

He decides to draw a little levity in, “You piss her off?” There’s a teasing undertone to his question.

“Don't think so,” Joel says as he shifts. “Gonna give her a call.”

Tommy nods and claps him on the back. “We can get back to work after.”

He heads back inside to give his brother some privacy.

When you don’t answer the phone, Joel leaves a message anyway.

“Hey, sweetheart. Haven’t been able to get through to you, but I’ll be home soon, okay? Four-thirty at the latest…” he pauses to bite his lower lip. “Call me if you get this before I’m there. Love you.”

•••

It’s quiet when he arrives home. Virtually undisturbed. The pillows on the couch are positioned in the exact way they’d been left after last night’s impromptu movie night. The TV remote is in the same place on the coffee table as well. There’s nothing that suggests you’ve been stirring around at all. He walks deeper into the house to find that the kitchen and sunroom are empty too. The late afternoon sun pools in through the window.

When he makes it back around to the staircase, he jogs to the top. The wood creaks beneath his steps.

“Sweetheart?” he calls out. “I’m home. You up here?”

His voice carries to where you’re tucked in bed, but you can’t bring yourself to answer back. Not loud enough for him to hear you, at least. The ache that once pulsed throughout your head has steadied to the point where you don’t want to risk overexerting yourself and tumbling back to square one. Joel would find you anyway. He always did. And he never viewed you or your pain as a burden. He knew how to cradle both, how to ease them without second thought.

Light pours into the bedroom as the door opens slowly. You can make out the outline of his tall, broad frame, and hear the soft sound of his socks against the hardwood as he pads to you in the dark. Thanks to the blackout curtains, there’s hardly any light entering in. Only the smallest slivers.

After his eyes adjust, he can begin to make out the shapes around the room. The red glow of the alarm clock allows him to see your face, your slow-blinking eyes.

Without uttering a word, he gently presses the back of his hand to your forehead, then moves it down to rest against your warm cheek. You press into his touch just slightly, and it tugs something awful at his chest. Makes him wish he could bear your pain.

“Migraine,” you murmur.

An apologetic hum vibrates through his chest. “You been like this all day?” he asks softly.

“Got bad at noon.”

He sighs. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You weakly reach out for his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. It’s much larger than yours, rugged and calloused, but you’d hold on forever if you could. If he’d let you. With his free hand, he picks up the tumbler bottle on the nightstand to find that it’s light.

“I’m gonna go get you some more water. It’s probably time for some more Advil too.”

The weight of his attentiveness makes you nod like you’re surrendering. And maybe you are giving something up—the burden of the day. Of having to do everything on your own. His fingers tighten around yours in a final squeeze before he lets go.

You shouldn’t miss him in the short time that he’s gone, but you do. It’s the same tug that lingered in your chest all day, but is kinder now that he’s home. Not miles away out of reach. When he comes back, it’s with more than he initially set out for, all of it somehow balanced in his hold. He quietly sets it all on the nightstand.

“You can turn the little lamp on,” you murmur. There was a battery-powered ambient lamp alongside the larger one.

“I’m aces, honey,” he assures. “You wanna sit up for a second, I got your medicine right here.”

You prop yourself up on your forearm and gratefully take it from him. He holds your tumbler to your lips so you can reach the straw to wash it down.

“There ya go,” he praises as you settle back down. “Got a cold pack and some grapes too. Get a little something on your stomach before I get dinner worked out later…” He talks, almost absentmindedly, as he continues to get you situated. But he knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s a routine he’s coaxed you through more times than he’d like.

A long hum rises in your throat as he positions the cold pack on the back of your neck. A stark but pleasant chill ripples through your overheated body like slow melting ice. All you can muster is another grateful hum as he sets the small bowl of grapes on the mattress beside you. There’s a crisp, sweet pop as you usher one into your mouth.

“Gonna go grab a quick shower.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t go anywhere,” he adds lightly.

A small smile pulls at your lips.

•••

An hour. That’s how much later you wake up in his arms with his lips at your shoulder, his strong arm draped around your waist to keep you close. There’d hardly been any words exchanged between you in the moments before then, only confirmations of each other’s comfort and whispered I love you’s. You’d dozed off a couple of times since noon, but nothing comparable to the steady rest that came along with his proximity.

He doesn't realize you’re awake until you shift and reach toward the nightstand. The light of the ambient lamp soon illuminates the room, joined by the glow of your phone a moment later. Joel takes it as a sign you’re feeling better than he found you, and that’s more than enough. The gentle, repetitive tap of your thumb against the screen lets him know you’re going through old notifications.

His hand finds your hip beneath the sheets, where he draws slow, small circles with his thumb. It isn’t long before you lock the device and set it back down.

The sheets rustle as you turn around to face him. Sleep’s haze lingers between you as you trail your fingertips along his jaw in a featherlight brush. The scratch of his beard feels nice, and you continue the motion until you’re unable to stop the fond chuckle that shakes your chest. It’s no more than a quick breath, but Joel smiles shyly anyway.

“What?” he asks, voice a little gruff.

“J,” you murmur with a teasing lilt. “You don’t need to sign your texts. I know already it’s you.” You poke an affectionate finger into his stomach.

His smile grows as he offers a helpless shrug, warmth in his dark eyes. It’s impossible to fight the urge to scoot closer and press the briefest, softest kiss to his lips. He makes a small sound in the back of his throat.

“Tommy had me thinking I might’ve done something to upset you,” he says as he brushes a knuckle across your cheek.

“I’d never ignore you like that.”

Joel knows that, but says, “Except for that one time.”

You frown in confusion, but your mouth falls open in amusement when you realize what he means. “That was a million years ago, and it lasted five minutes—not even that.”

Joel chuckles, and when it triggers you to join him in laughing, you realize that’s all he sought to gain by bringing it up.

“Clearly it left a mark.” He brings your hand to his lips and kisses the heel of your palm, a smile lingering on his lips as you laugh again. He studies your eyes, your nose, your lips. He loves you so much he sometimes wonders how he’s been able to manage it without bursting at the seams.

“You feelin’ a bit better?” he asks after a few quiet beats.

“Much,” you promise.

He kisses your palm again. This time he lets his lips linger.

-

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all! 

more of this couple -> here with you

JOEL MASTERLIST 

GENERAL MASTERLIST   

[kikidoul]

── GAME OF PATIENCE.

໒꒰ྀི ^ ⸝⸝ ^ ꒱ྀིა 양정원 x fem! reader content established relationship non-idol au college/university au ᥫ᭡ warning explicit sexual content petnames used mean dom! jungwon cock sucking brief and discussed somnophilia reader trying to seduce jungwon twice HEH rough sex degrading kink crying pussy eating fingering begging squirting lmk if i miss anything else . . .!? 2417 — mlist. req

note. and with this, the next few works will be heeseung.... taglist. @tfwbluu

The first time it happened was in the morning. It started when you woke up without your alarm going off, much to your happiness. Having pulled countless all-nighters to study for your examinations for the past few weeks means you deserved a much-needed uninterrupted sleep. You turned, the sheets softly rustling and you were granted the sight of your boyfriend sleeping peacefully, unaware of your dilemma. You clenched your thighs when your mind wandered to the wet dream you had, about how Jungwon had you bent over the nearest surface, ruthlessly pounding into you. 

You had discussed this with him before. This refers to waking him up in a different way. Which was why you stealthily crawled towards him, resting yourself between his parted legs. Thankfully, Jungwon doesn’t sleep with pants on, only wearing his boxers—meaning there was one less article of clothing to remove. You pulled it down, mouth watering at the sight of his soft cock—something you were determined to change. 

Leaning in while tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, you gave kitten licks to the tip, eyes focused on his face. He squirmed, cutely scrunching his nose but didn’t wake up. Now motivated, you took him in your mouth, moving forward until you felt the tip hitting the back of your throat. Your free hand moves to fondle with his balls as you begin bobbing your head. 

“Ngh, wh-what,” he stirred to live, looking down at you with half-opened eyes, only to sigh in pleasure, tossing his head as you traced the veins protruding from the side of his cock.

“Baby—hah, st-stop,” he protested, and you released his cock, worried that you had done something wrong.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. 

“Nothing, I’m just too tired for this. Maybe later,” he mumbled, gesturing for you to come up. 

You sighed, disappointed but nodded in understanding. Just like you, Jungwon had pulled lots of all-nighters to get through his examinations and as much as you were tempted to get railed into oblivion, you wanted your boyfriend to get as much rest as he could. You pulled his boxers back up, crawling into his awaiting arms and rested your head on his chest. 

“Although, can’t say I was expecting that,” he teased, kissing the top of your head. 

~ 

The second time it happened was when Jungwon was making instant noodles for the both of you. You entered the kitchen, dressed in one of his oversized shirts that reaches your upper thighs. You didn’t bother wearing any shorts, leaving you prancing around your home with your panties showing, if you were to bend over. You wrapped your arms around his slender waist, resting your chin on his left shoulder. 

“Wonie, can we fuck?” You asked, the bluntness of your question startled him, nearly making him drop the chopsticks he was holding.

“N-now?” He stuttered, glancing at you while he continued to stir the noodles. 

You whined, burying your face in the crook of his neck, hands sneakily sliding down—bypassing the hem of his shorts and boxers, boldly wrapping your hands around his cock. He hissed, the sound not going unnoticed by you. 

“Please? I want you so bad? Need you to fuck me real good,” you continued whining, using the right amount of whineness that never fails to make him weak in the knees. 

You grinned when you heard his breath hitched in your throat, thinking you had him wrapped around your fingers. To your surprise, he ducked underneath your arms as he went to grab two bowls, leaving you there, eyes wide open with disbelief written all over your face. Jungwon laughed at your bewildered expression. 

“Sorry princess, but we’ve to eat first. Maybe later though,” he patted your head. 

You grumbled a string of curses under your breath as you helped to grab the utensils while he set the table. “That’s not fair. I’ll rather eat your dick than noodles.” 

“(Name)!”

~ 

The third time it happened was when you were getting ready for dinner and it seems like your boyfriend too, had reached his limit. You and Jungwon had made plans to meet with the rest of your friends, wanting to get together after your examinations were over. After all, what better way is there to celebrate other than eating good food and enjoying the company of your friends? However, your boyfriend wasn’t pleased with this. He grumbled, acting like a child as he remained laying on the bed, face-planted into your pillow to inhale your lingering scent. 

You, on the other hand, were almost done. You stepped out of the bathroom, fully dressed and Jungwon pushed himself up, throat going dry at how stunning you looked. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of you, not even when you stopped before him, snapping your fingers in front of his face. His sweatpants tightened, eyes drinking in your figure. Your lips were moving but he couldn’t comprehend a single word you were saying. 

“...ie, hello? Earth to Jungwon? Are you still there?” You frowned, waving your hand before his face. 

He snapped back to reality, shooting his hand out to grab you by the wrist and tugged you forward. You let out a startled yelp, falling onto Jungwon’s lap, only to land in an awkward position. Your hand was sprayed on his chest while the other was held over his shoulder, wrist captured by his own hand. Jungwon had to lean back to avoid knocking his head against yours. Your breath hitched in your throat at how his eyes darkened. 

“Wonie?” You murmured, your heart nearly stopped beating for a second as he ducked his head to plant kisses along your neck, only to stop at a certain area that he knew you’re sensitive. You shivered when you felt him licked, sucked and bit your skin, undoubtedly leaving a hickey behind. 

“Ngh—W-Wonie, st-stop,” you whimpered. But despite your words, you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, feeling your body growing hotter as he pushed your dress up and up, until the fabric rested on your hips. 

Jungwon only moved away when he was satisfied, his thumb tracing the newly-formed hickey on your neck. “You’ve no idea how you make me feel. Wearing something like this, in front of everyone else. It’s like you’re asking to be fucked.” 

You mewled at his crude words, your panties getting soaked. Your boyfriend smirked when he saw how you tried to clench your thighs. He changed your position, pushing you down onto the sheets with him hovering over you. Jungwon quickly slid his knee between your legs, gaining a moan from you when you felt him firmly pressing his knee against your clothed clit. It was by instinct that you jerked your hips forward, attempting to get some form of friction but Jungwon held you down, preventing you from moving. 

“Isn’t that right? Trying to suck my cock early in the morning and begging to be fucked in the afternoon. You’re nothing more than just a cockslut,” he sneers. 

“Wonie, please!” You begged, your clit throbbing and clenching on nothing but thin air. 

He chuckled, shifting down until he was on his elbows and rested himself in between your spread legs. “Please what, princess? Tell me what you want.”

“T-Touch me,” you murmured, squeezing your eyes shut, feeling Jungwon’s hands tracing the outline of your figure until they landed on the hem of your panties. 

Snap! 

You squeaked when he teasingly tugged at it, letting it go as it snapped firmly against your skin, making you flinch. Jungwon leaned down, blowing hot air against your clit that was shielded by the thin, soaked fabric of your panties. Your legs twitched, hips canting forward, wanting to feel his tongue on you. He pulled it down and threw the obstacle to the floor, not caring where it landed. 

“Fuck, Jungwon!” You cried out, back arching off the bed when you felt him lapping away at your clit, collecting your arousal and spreading them across your puffy folds, as if he was spreading butter on a slice of bread. 

Unlike before when he will take his time to break down your walls one by one, reducing you to a whimpering and moaning mess, this was different. You could feel how he was consuming, devouring you whole. It was like he was a predator who had finally caught its prey, never wanting to let you go. Endless sounds of moans and mewls flowed from your lips as he ate you out like he hasn’t eaten for a month. 

You gripped onto a fistful of his blonde hair, wrapping your legs around his broad shoulders. Your eyes rolled upwards as he gave a harsh suck to your clit, spreading your drenched folds with his thumbs, sliding his tongue deeper in, reaching places where you thought it was impossible to. Jungwon had loosened his grip on your hips, allowing you to buck your hips into his greedy mouth—like you were riding his face. 

The bedroom was filled with the lewd sounds of your boyfriend slurping, licking and eating you out along with your shameless sounds. You felt like you were floating, your muscles tightened, heat pooling in your stomach—like a rubber band threatening to snap into half. You tried to say something, anything but you couldn’t. Not when Jungwon delivered the final blow in the form of gently nipping the hood of your clit with his teeth. The extra simulation and brief pain was enough to tip you over the edge, squirting over the sheets and your boyfriend’s awaiting mouth. 

Your legs fell off his shoulders, a thin layer of sweat clinging onto your skin as you panted to catch your breath. Jungwon lifted himself up, his lips and chin glistened, covered in your slick. You gulped when he wiped them away with the back of his hand, licking them off his fingers with his own tongue. 

“You taste divine, princess,” he coos, your ears flushing red. He made quick work of his clothes, getting to his knees as he grabbed his cock, pressing the tip to the slit of your cunt, moving in circles to collect the remains of your slick after you had squirted. 

“Oh,” you whined, digging your fingers into the sheets. “Wonie, please—fuck!” 

Jungwon ignores your words, eyes fixated on how your walls are trying to suck him in—a sign of how desperate you are to have something inside you. As much as Jungwon wants to give you—his pretty girl, what you want, he wants you to beg. He wants you to burst into tears, pleading for his cock to fill you up. And at the same time, he wants to ruin you. Which was why Jungwon moved to slip and rubbed the tip of his cock, teasing your hole for a few seconds, only for him to pull out of your soft, warm, velvety walls. 

You squirmed, tears of frustration prickling your eyes—frustrated at how your boyfriend was being a tease, blurring your vision. “Inside, please, please, please!” 

“You’re acting like a desperate whore, you know that? I don’t think you deserve it, not after what you’ve put me through,” Jungwon grinned, the sight anything but heartwarming, creating a sense of dread.

Whining, you batted your eyelashes at him while giving him your best impression of doe-like eyes. “Please, Wonie?” 

His features softened, flashing you a loving smile. “You’ll have to try harder than that, princess.” 

“Please? With a cherry on top?” You continued, maintaining the act. 

“Good enough,” he hums, not letting you register his response and slammed his cock in in one, quick and powerful thrust, instantly filling you up with his cock. 

Your mind reeled at how full you felt, the tip of his cock grazing against your cervix. Jungwon groaned at how your walls instantly clenched onto his cock, not wanting him to pull out. He swore he could have cum right there and then, with how hard you were gripping onto him. You let out a shriek when he pounded into you without warning, slowly pushing your body up, towards the headboard. 

“Fuck—Mo-More—hah, ngh! Please, pleasepleaseplease!” You sobbed, getting drunk on the intoxicating and addictive feeling of his cock smoothly sliding in and out of you, repeatedly abusing the same spot, over and over again until you were seeing stars in your vision. 

Jungwon rested his hand on your stomach, where a faint but evident bulge was shown. “You’re taking me so well, sweetheart. You’re a good girl, aren’t you? Good for letting me fuck and use you for my own pleasure. Wonder how our friends will react if they were to know how desperate you are for my cock.” 

You outright sobbed at his words, making your mind spinned. Jungwon chuckled at how fucked out you already were. You couldn’t muster a proper sentence, tossing your head back with breathless pants and “ah, ah, ah” falling from your parted lips. To him, no words could describe how gorgeous you looked in your current state. 

The previously neat and pristine dress was now filled with wrinkles, beyond salvation. The straps had fallen, resting along your shoulders. Your breasts spilled from the dress, bouncing with every movement. Your styled hair was messed up, spread out beneath you like a halo. The makeup you wore was now smudged with tears staining on your face. Seeing how wrecked and ruined you were, Jungwon groaned, quickening his pace as he brutally snapped his hips against yours, eager to make you cum for the second time. 

“J-Jungwon, c-comi—” You muttered, only to moan as Jungwon leaned down, capturing your left nipple in his mouth. He teasingly nipped it and his action was rewarded with you clamping down on his cock, making him groan. The vibration against your chest was enough to tip you over the edge. 

Your body shook with the intensity of your orgasm, pathetically squirting. You whimpered as Jungwon followed suit, releasing inside you, pumping full of his cum. He collapsed on top of you, eliciting an undefined squawk and you weakly smacked his shoulders, groaning at how your body fluids and sweat were now mixed together. 

“Get off, you’re heavy,” you grumbled, not making any move to push him off despite your words. 

Jungwon lazily rolled off of you, laying on his back beside you. “That’s not what you should be saying to your boyfriend after he blew your back out.” 

You scrunch your nose. “Never say that again.”

“But it’s the truth” 

“YANG JUNGWON!”

[jjenthusee]

Like The Sun

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: As your relationship deepens, you have to face some unsolved feelings. It can be frightening, but a little bit of honesty can take you far.

Tags: no y/n, slight miscommunication but nothing too painful (i hope), fluff, hurt/comfort, jason is learning to communicate, reader is also bad at communicating lol, trigger warning: grief

Word Count: 5.0k

Ten days.

Ten full days since you went completely silent on Jason. No contact, no phone calls, just a couple messages to make sure you were alive, but nothing more.

Ten full days and he hadn’t burst through the front door by tracking your phone and coming up with thirty-four complete ways you could possibly be tied limb-to-limb in an abandoned warehouse.

And it took one message. A single text to start the pitfall of a week.

You: Hey Jay, I’m gonna stay home tonight, just need the evening to myself.

Sending the message was difficult enough, but there was no use in pushing yourself outside your apartment door that day.

Everything felt off from the morning.

The way your water tasted, the breakfast you tried to stomach, the feel of your clothes on your skin.

It didn’t make it any better that your hair wasn’t styling right, your washer was acting up, and it was your last straw when you stained your kitchen counter.

But nothing made your heart drop like seeing Jason read your message. There was the same three dots reappearing and disappearing until it left the screen completely.

Jason was thinking most likely. Maybe analyzing how this possibly surfaced.

He was very keen on your behaviors, your mannerisms, and he knew the words you tended to use the most. He knew how you couldn’t remember specific words when you were excitedly telling him a story. He also knew you picked at your nails when you were deep in thought.

You knew he was analyzing.

And it was just your luck that he was a damn good detective.

You could picture the way his eyebrows would downcast far enough to shield over his eyelids as he looked over his phone. It was likely he would be radiating, building an intensity around him as he focused to understand what was happening.

It was a new habit he was picking up the longer he knew you. A habit developed from his effort to not jump from one extreme to another. He started to deeply consider his next moves, what words wouldn’t give off the wrong impression, and how to get even a thread closer to knowing what you needed.

It was the most thought he had given to his personal relationships in a long time.

Then one thumbs up emoji later, you felt a weird sense of relief and guilt for the alone time you asked for because you knew better than to go completely silent.

But you were even more surprised that he was allowing you to be this silent. It was almost funny that he had reasoned with himself to send a single emoji after all that build up.

Last year, one dead phone and multiple missed calls had him ready to tear down Gotham City for an entire evening. You thought he wouldn’t do such a thing, but he had done it before, so—just maybe, a second time wasn’t impossible.

But this behavior was new. For him and for you.

But it also was a time of change in your relationship. A major shift from just platonic to understanding where romance was going to take the two of you.

He must’ve been holding back because you asked him directly for it. He was complying and only tried to contact you back with only a single phone call you didn’t answer and a couple messages that you managed to respond, ironically, with a thumbs up.

This would hurt Jason and you knew for sure it was hurting you.

But words are easier to sugarcoat and your actions were too honest, too raw to cover up with excuses.

Now, ten long days later, you had sent no new messages to him in two days because there was just a lot of time where you let your mind blankly go through the week.

You hoped this would end soon, but you needed some time to sit in your apartment with no rush to think about anything else.

And sometimes that started with boiling some water for a quick meal of some decently made pasta.

You watched as the water start to slowly boil with the steam radiating off the top of the pot. You stood from the side of the kitchen counter, pausing from chopping some veggies for the sauce.

Everything felt so eerily quiet. The usual busy street outside the window felt weirdly muted. It was late, but even this much silence for Gotham felt unusual in an unsettling way.

Less cars were honking and the city lights protruded the thin curtains over your windows. The warmest light that was let in was from the lamp near your couch and the overhead stove light.

Your blank mind kept coming in waves. But you started to realize that grief was like that. It was hard on your mind and body despite having a good day because something always reminds you—it makes you remember the deep, ingrained loss.

If the torture of grief was already hard enough for losing one person, it wasn’t easy that it brought you back to the heart-wrenching night of also losing Jason.

It was a twisted game that life repeatedly stabbed you with and you were the player they decided to pick on.

Since Jason came back to life, to Gotham, and to you, you never knew what to do with the unresolved mixed emotions. There wasn’t many people to ask for advice on how to deal with this healthily. You already felt crazy enough trying to google it.

Fsshhh.

The water you were supposed to be watching was boiling over quickly and broke you out of your depressing thoughts. You had to lean over just enough to not burn your skin from the sloshing water while adjusting the switch on the stove to turn off the burner as the water simmered down.

“Crap.” You turned to try to grab the kitchen towel but realized you had thrown it near the cutting board you were using.

With one swoop of the fabric, you hadn’t realized the rag was inched enough below the handle of the knife that it flung the entire blade to the floor, nearly missing cutting your foot.

You gasped a moment too late as you witnessed too many bad things happening one after another.

Everything felt even worse once you remembered it was your only clean knife. You hadn’t bothered washing any of the dirty dishes from the past week of staying home from work.

Not a breath later, you startled at your phone buzzing on the counter and a light knock echoing from your window.

——

Silence.

It scared the hell out of Jason.

It reminded him of how alone he felt and was.

It left too much room to think and to get one step closer to spiraling.

That’s why Gotham, as shit as it was some days, had him glad for how busy the place was. He could hide in its chaos that never wavered even for all the masked vigilantes of the night.

It wasn’t in his interest to follow the caped family and he easily fixed the bothersome brothers with a good block on his phone and wiping his existence as much as he could. It also didn’t hurt to make a deal with the Oracle, so it left one less person capable of helping the others find him.

Sometimes it was easier when they gave up on some days. Like how they were busy with their own lives to try to meddle in his for a couple hours.

Luckily, this was just another night of opportunity to get his business done without domino masks blocking his way. Then he would grapple back to your familiar path to see if you were up for an early walk up the emergency stairs to your apartment rooftop.

He always looked forward to watching the way the sun reflected in your eyes and that intense feeling in his chest had Jason wanting to drag you out every morning if he could.

As much as Jason wanted to zero in on his daydreams of sunrises and the chaos of letting Gotham seep back into his skin, he was looking at his locked phone screen on the top of a run-down movie theater he was patrolling on. He was trying to investigate a drug drop to see who he was going to put a couple holes in for the evening, but the wind that invaded his leather jacket felt chilling and the vibration from his pocket had him wondering.

Suddenly the chill in his bones was blurring the message you sent and struck his nerves almost as badly as the nights he spent locked and surrounded by screeching metal, but he smacked his helmet with the back of his pistol before he could start a painful hallucination back to those times.

Pain rung in his wrist, but that wouldn’t get in his way of clearing up the punching bags walking below his feet, unaware of what was in store for them.

But the most surprising thing he’d seen that night was from the tiny screen illuminating the dark alley he stood in as the knocked-out bodies of the men he was tailing laid around his feet.

It was confusing.

Jason had thought there was progress in whatever relationship he was developing with you, but like an axe had been taken to his heart, reality hit him that maybe that was too good to be true.

The sensation of his buzzing helmet that knocked him from bad memories to reality was starting to strain his neck.

But he wouldn’t be able to solve the problem in his hand with another swing of his pistol.

Jason was trying not to sway, to not let the words spin and double from the phone.

“An evening…to myself.” Jason mumbled as he read the end of the message out loud.

What the hell could he say to this?

His eyebrows lowered the more he tried to think, but his overthinking tendencies were besting him.

It was out of the question that he was going to tell you ‘no.’ How could he refuse you some alone time?

He’d done enough of bailing on you over the last couple months when he felt overwhelmed, so Jason felt in no position to stop you from this.

He had improved that horrible behavior from the moment your affection was becoming more bolder, but he didn’t think it was worthy enough of a change to prevent something you wanted.

He had gotten a stern lecture from you the last time he raided the entire underground criminal ring to see if someone had taken you.

Once he realized an uncharged phone almost had him eliminating the entire criminal population of Gotham City, he realized he didn’t understand the extent of his feelings.

Jason was letting himself get deeper into the relationship you allowed him to build with you and now it scared the hell out of him that you were gone before he could tell you about any of it.

And like the continuing coward he knew he was, you still didn’t know about it.

Jason dragged a glove down his face, but hit the metal of his helmet and it smoothly glided down before he could not let himself think about this anymore.

It would have gone smoothly if Jason had the emotional intelligence skills to handle this, but not only did he realize he was a coward, he was also just stupid.

“A thumbs-up?”

The sudden voice coming from Jason’s helmet had him jumping out of his skin. On instinct, he readily held his pistol with his finger ready on the trigger.

His hands were faster than his mind because he realized that annoying voice was from Oracle herself.

“I have to reprogram this damn helmet again.” Jason groaned, putting his weapon back into his holster and putting his phone away fully from the prying eyes.

“I’m glad to hear that you’re fine, Ja—“

“Red. Hood. We’ve been over this. It’s Red Hood.”

The silence from his helmet had Jason feeling somewhat guilty for the attitude he was giving the one person who tried to have patience with him, but she always struck a nerve of boundaries with him.

“Why are you tracking me and seeing my camera feed? This was off limits according to our deal.” Jason picked up the bodies of the men he knocked out and dragged them against the nearest dirtied brick wall.

“We also agreed on no casualties.” Babs argued back.

“Relax, you hacker. They’re still alive…for the night.” Jason lowered his voice when it reached the truth.

“Ja—Red Hood, this isn’t in the deal either.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll give ‘em something to survive into tomorrow. Now stop snooping.” Jason grabbed some medical supplies from his utility belt.

“I didn’t mean to read your messages, I just noticed the lack of movement from you for the night. I wanted to check in.”

“From my helmet feed?”

“Okay, it was going to be a quick look because I know how much you avoid these chats.” Babs sighed, rubbing her temple above her headset. “And I must say, a thumbs up wasn’t a better idea than what I did.”

“That’s enough.” Jason felt a headache forming.

“Wait—“

The call was over as Jason powered off his helmet’s extensive features and opted for no settings, but a plain red helmet.

“I don’t have time for this.” He mumbled, fighting the itch to just run back to your place, but that wasn’t an option anymore.

As he stood from the dark alley, Jason couldn’t hear anything, but an eery quiet.

He knew it was going to be a long night, but he didn’t realize it would be much longer than that.

A long silence.

God, Jason hated it, but your silence was all he wanted right now, he needed it.

——

You reached for the bright screen illuminating the muted kitchen and read the familiar name you had been avoiding.

Jay: brought some food Alfred dropped by for me earlier, thought you would want a piece since it’s your favorite.

Jay: left it outside the window, leaving now

You hopped over the knife still on the floor, running toward the closed window. In one motion, you were throwing aside the blinds, holding on to your phone, and prying open the curtains while trying to open the window.

You had tangled up the blinds, but you didn’t care in your rush to see a glimpse of the vigilante possibly still outside on the emergency exit ledge.

When you managed to peek out to feel the cold evening air, your eyes searched for the red helmet. For any sort of glint of light that bounced off his patrol gear, but nothing caught your eye.

It was like searching for a shadow in the dark, but like hell did you give everything in you to try to search for him.

When you gave up, your eyebrows crinkled in disappointment as your breaths caught in warm puffs from the rapid exhales. Then as you looked down to calm yourself, you saw the familiar lunch bag that Alfred used for deliveries. It struck something deep in your chest.

All this avoiding was hurting you.

You wanted Jason.

You needed him right now.

It was so simple, but you didn’t realize it until you saw the warm meal, the clumsy but patient silence from Jason to respect your space, and how completely exhausted you were of being alone in such a painful time.

You wanted the one man that you knew would lay with you through the hell of your mind.

You: how long until patrol is over?

You: i’ll wait for you

Within seconds, a response popped up.

Jay: On my way

With half your body still outside your window, you felt your arms shiver and your skin prick, but you lightly smiled into the brightness of your phone. A dry laugh almost came out at the relief that he was coming back.

In one soft leap and the release of a grapple wire, you finally saw the red helmet meet your eyes.

“What’s wrong? Did someone break in? Did I say something wrong?” Jason’s voice broke out of the modulated voice, morphing into his usual raspy one as he pulled off the helmet. His domino mask stuck to his face still blocking his eyes from you, but you perfectly watched how his eyes moved to the phone in your hand down to the untouched lunch bag. “Oh no, did I accidentally smush the food? Maybe I swung it too hard on my way here—“

You reached forward, your stomach digging into the window stool, but you didn’t care as you gripped the collar of his leather jacket. Pulling him toward you as he let you maneuver his body into your arms.

You squeezed him, pushing your face into the crevice of his neck and feeling his soft touch of his skin against yours, the slight smell of his sweat from the exertion he puts his body through every night on patrol, and the shared shampoo you bought together.

It just felt right.

A cloudy night sky, the moon barely peaking out to brighten the late night, all to grace the outline of the man held tightly in your arms.

“I missed you.” You whispered, as lightly as possible, so just you and the moon would hear what you said, but Jason rested his hands on your back and squeezed, crinkling your shirt in between his fingers.

“I’m right here.”

After a couple moments of breathing in his scent, Jason gently pulled you out of the safety of his neck and looked at you. You traced his arms and shoulders, to trail his neck with your fingers. Lightly sending shivers up his skin as you reached his stubble on his jaw.

The prick on your skin felt too good as you kept moving your hands to the edges of the mask.

You felt the smooth edge, ready to press your fingers to remove it to see Jason’s clear eyes. Before you could begin to peel it off, Jason held your wrists, halting them from doing anything more than what you planned.

“Please. Please, not out here.” He pleaded, heavily breathing into the minimal space between your faces.

You nodded in response, your throat too closed up in emotions to say anything.

You moved your body from the window and Jason moved one foot inside, taking the lunch bag and his helmet with him.

You stood closely to him, not giving him enough space to freely pull himself comfortably inside, but you wanted to try to push your luck tonight in being as physically close as you could without making him feel uncomfortable.

Once Jason closed the window and attempted to straighten the tangled blinds, he noted the clear mess you left in a hurry.

Before he could comment on it, you stepped toward him. Resting your forehead onto his chest plate.

It was so cold, but it also brought relief to how heated your face was getting in your unusual clingy behavior.

But this was Jason. Your Jay.

You looked up. Looking into the white eyes of the mask irritated you. You regained your motivation to remove it, he wouldn’t stop you now that you were inside the apartment.

With dim lights and a warm glow on one side of his face, you retraced your steps, feeling his chest rise under your palms.

It felt magnificent to watch the way your touch and gaze made him react. It touched you how willing and clumsily he tried to hide these unconscious responses.

You felt the edge of the domino mask again, feeling your finger try to part the specially made material from his skin. Once you got a good grip, you took it off his face, watching his eyes open to see you.

It was breathtaking how much you missed his presence despite you wanting to be away from it.

You used your thumbs to trace his eye bags. They looked much darker than the last time you saw them.

“You’re not mad?” Jason hesitantly asked, grabbing the loose fabric of your shirt again, smoothing out any wrinkles.

“I was never mad.” You let him continue to pick at your shirt.

“It's been ten days. I’ve been worried out of my mind trying to not barge in here.” Jason leaned into your hand still on his face. “But the last time I did that you were pissed.” He dryly chuckled, less amused, but sadly letting his voice out.

“I’m sorry I didn’t explain anything. It’s just another case of…grief.” You breathed out the confession. “It’s not an excuse, but it hasn’t been easy on me right now.”

Jason silently grabbed your hand to kiss the inside of your palm, it made the pain of making him wait for you worse, but also eased your worries.

“I feel so pathetic telling you all of this.” You exhaustedly admitted to the man lovingly holding your hands over his face.

“No, no, please don’t say that, I would never want you to feel like that.” He worriedly looked down at you. Trying his best to read your thoughts through his eyes. “I only want to be right here, even if you feel at your lowest.”

As he continued to read you, he hesitated, trying to determine his next words.

“I admit that I asked Alfred to make his signature dish for you. I know how much you like it and it was the only way I could think to get close enough to your apartment without disturbing you.” His hair drooped with his words. It was almost comical how in tune his hair was with his frowning expression.

You smiled.

“Thank you for doing that. It actually helped me to realize how much I wanted you next to me, but I was too stubborn about it.” You pushed Jason’s droopy hair out of his eyes, watching the dark and white strands mix together. “You know me too well.”

“Don’t be too forgiving, I might have completely ruined your dinner.” Jason finally smiled.

God, you missed that look.

“You saved it actually, I made a complete mess before I got your message.”

“That explains the knife on the floor.” Jason locked onto the blade, not at all pleased at the danger it became.

“Nearly sliced my toe.”

“That’s actually really bad.”

“We can worry about that later, I want to eat the meal Alfred packed. Can you eat with me?” You asked, trying to get his attention back on you.

“Okay, let me take my gear off.”

Within moments you sat at your dining table when Jason reappeared in comfortable clothes. He had changed into a hoodie he left previously and some sweats.

You didn’t bother turning on more lights when Jason picked up the knife on your kitchen floor and lightly cleaned the counters before he felt content enough to sit next to you.

You didn’t say much during your meal. The light awkwardness was settling when you realized you never cleared up what was going on inside your mind and led to your disappearance.

He must have had questions. He was being very careful in approaching you today.

“You don’t have to tell me.” He said nonchalantly.

“What?”

“You don’t have to say anything. At least if you don’t feel like it today.” Jason picked at his food. Moving the pieces around rather than trying to pick up something. “I didn’t come here to ask you for anything. But…I won’t go anywhere.”

You stared at him, watching his side profile relieve the doubt in your mind.

“When I turned around…she wasn’t there.” You spoke. Finally letting the truth out as Jason perked his head to you. “I always turned around before I left, so when I turned around this time to see her, I wasn’t prepared to not meet her eyes. When she wasn’t right there, it was just…so painful.”

Jason put down his eating utensil, listening and watching you do the opposite and focus in on the metal in your hands.

“It was so random. I was at the grocery store when I was buying ingredients for dinner and unconsciously, I started buying stuff she liked. Y’know, I barely cried through the funeral service, but I saw everything in her. I remembered sharing meals with her and when I realized I had everything she enjoyed in my basket, I left before I could cry in the aisles.”

Jason grabbed your hand, squeezing every time you tried to blink back tears, but the burn in your eyes wouldn’t go away.

“I can’t have meals with her anymore.” You shakily said out loud like the still waves of grief were finally crashing down onto you as you spoke into existence what you ran from.

“But, despite all the pain I was feeling, I also thought of you, Jay. It was so hard to grasp my love for you after you left me when we were kids. You lived with so much love and I’m glad you shared that with me—“

“No, I didn’t live anything like that—“ Jason refused your words, he knew he didn’t deserve it.

“But, you did. I felt it and many other people did. I realized I never properly mourned you that day and I just pushed it down until the two of us were in a dark alley entangled back into each other’s lives.”

Jason couldn’t think of anything to say, so he let you continue to speak.

“We handled too much as kids and I can’t imagine the pressures that you had to go through. Bruce, Robin, the trauma. I know you try not to think much about the past, but you deserve to grieve who you were and the kid you could’ve been.”

You finally looked up, feeling worked up enough to fully face Jason. You saw his wide eyes as he couldn’t say anything despite his mouth trying to move. To voice something to you.

Then his eyes calmed as he started to organize his thoughts, taking in the vulnerability you so willingly placed in front of him.

Fighting the bile and tears he was trying to fiercely push down, he could only handle so much at a time.

Maybe you were right.

Maybe he could grieve, but he didn’t know how yet.

So, he would focus on the first thing he decided to do. It was to speak the truth.

“But…I wouldn’t take back that first life I had. I met you, we faced some horrible people because of Robin, but the fact is…that I spent my first life loving you. Sometimes that thought is the only thing that can get me through those days—when time really feels like it’ll stop again. It scares the absolute shit outta me.”

“Jay…”

“Who would’ve thought that I lost all of that, but how did I still get lucky enough to get a second chance with you? I honestly can’t believe it some—most days.”

He wouldn’t look at you, the heavy air of vulnerability surrounding the space between you. A lovely grip that kept your eyes focused on the man next to you.

“I just…I debated whether we should even be in contact. But some part of me also wanted to take back this part of the old me. To let me have something. Even if that is just staying next to you. I think it’s why I freak out when I don’t hear from you.”

You got up to stand next to Jason’s chair. You reached out to test touching his shoulder, lightly threading your fingers over his hoodie. When he didn’t back away, you moved to hug him, to hold his head against your chest. As you laid your head on top of his, Jason moved into your warmth. Wrapping his arms around your waist.

It hurt to hear that Jason felt like nothing of who he was before his death, but you could see the ingrained part of him that never changed.

Sure, he was growing up and being influenced by not only Bruce anymore, but you were there to stay.

“I won’t leave you in the dark again, I learned that I can’t do this alone. I know we can’t change over night, but I want you to know that your presence right now is enough. You are enough, Jay.” You rubbed his head and back.

Jason felt his eyes sting, so he held you against him a little harder, squeezing you as desperately as he felt. Trying to cover his face and let himself sink into your body.

It was silent again.

But Jason didn’t hate it. At all.

——

“My eyes are so puffy. I can’t believe you dragged me up here. I haven’t gotten an ounce of sleep.” You complained as you trudge up the steps to the roof.

Jason followed right behind making sure to hold onto the railing and watching your every step. Then he started to rub your lower back to soothe your complaints.

He didn’t feel guilty about it any of it though.

“You’re carrying me down ‘cause I’m not making the same trip down.” You grumbled along to your steps.

“That’s not a good idea, I don’t want to risk it.” Jason easily paced next to you.

Vigilante stamina was something else.

“Says the guy who grapples everywhere. Why can’t we grapple down?”

“The sun’s almost out. We missed the chance.” Jason smiled as he helped gently push you up the final steps.

When you made it up the final climb, you felt the slight sweat prickle your skin and Jason’s lips touch your forehead.

Within seconds, you plopped onto the ledge, feeling Jason securely wrap himself around you and ready for any sort of emergency.

“You must really like sunrises.” You exhaled to catch your breath and leaned your head onto his shoulder, the muscle was perfect to put your weight on.

“Not really.” Jason intertwined your hand with his.

“I’m too tired to get mad at you. I’ll do it after we have a nap.” You sleepily yawned.

“Heh, alright.” Jason held you tight.

It was a quiet morning. The rare weather allowed a clear sky to watch the sky change colors and illuminate.

And Jason was focused on none of it.

——

A/N: wow! this was longer than i imagined it would be and i waited to have a little space for me to talk :) but im back after being silent for a while. it wasn’t planned and sadly before the year ended, i lost my grandma and it was a lot to deal with. grief is no joke on how it works, BUT i’ve set some time to really take a step back and focus on myself. i didn’t mean for this writing to go in that direction, but i tend to get inspiration from parts of my life to make the writing feel more genuine. This page has made me laugh, talk to amazing people, and share these writing when I thought they wouldn’t go anywhere but my phone. it’s such a comforting thought that some ppl look forward to seeing something new from jjenthusee! 🤍 ik the world isn’t the best right now, it’s hard to deal with, but please take care of yourselves and enjoy a little bit of jason for yours truly 😊 please leave positive comments, spam a like or two, and have some flowers 💐

[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.”

[dameronology]

laundry (frank castle)

summary: frank castle is good a lot of things. being domestic is not one of them.

warnings: language and this has not been proofread in the slightest lmao. enjoy!!

It wasn't often that you caught Hell's Kitchen in a beautiful moment but that first hour of light on a cold Tuesday morning caught your entire apartment perfectly. Streams of blonde light peaked through your crooked blinds, filling your bedroom with a warm glow; you could see little specs of dust in the air rising with the angle of the sun - shit, you really needed to vacuum in here - that eventually faded off into nothing. It was your day off, and you didn't want to get up early but Frank Castle's insufferable snoring had interrupted your slumber and unless you'd suddenly gained a liking for Jurassic Park style white noise in the last five seconds, the chances of getting back to sleep stood at zero.

You threw the duvet aside and pitter-pattered out the room, quietly shutting the bedroom door behind you. There was no reason for Frank to be up any time soon, either. With his night job and you being on a work trip, he'd had about seven hours sleep in the last three days.

The state of your apartment reflected that: there was a pile of unwashed combat clothes in the corner, paired with a few pairs of unpolished boots and every single mug to either of your names marinating in the sink in a washing up bowl of coffee and last night's dishes. You let out a sigh - fucking hell, Frank. Still, you weren't going to get on at him for it. You'd only lived together for a month or so by that point and up until now, he'd been perfectly tidy to the point where you hadn't even lifted a finger. The mess was clearly just a reflection of his drained mental state.

With that in mind, you set off to work. Laundry into the washing machine, plates into the dish washer that you weren't even entirely sure Frank knew existed, boots polished and put to the side. It was like clock-work really, just half an hour of cleaning, cleaning and a little bit more cleaning.

"Morning, sunshine," Frank's gravelly voice rung through the small apartment, just in time to walk into a cloud of Febreeze. "Jesus fuck, are you trying to suffocate me?"

"Sorry, Frankie," you pressed a kiss to his jaw, "was just doing some cleaning."

"I can see," Frank looked around, brown eyes flickering between you and the sparkly kitchen counters, "I'll do my bit later."

"It's cool," you shrugged, turning to flick on the kettle.

"Huh?"

"I already did it," you replied, "your clothes are in the drier now and I think I polished your boots."

"You did my laundry?"

You put down the coffee filter you were holding, turning to face Frank with a furrowed brow. "Yeah. Don't tell me you're weirdly specific about your laundry being done? Only because last week I saw you use tape to fix a hole in your-"

" - no, it's just, uh..." Frank paused, dragging a calloused palm through his cropped hair, "I'm not used to people doing shit for me. Sorry. I mean...not sorry, baby. Thank you."

You smiled. "No problem."

--

A few weeks passed, and the apartment stayed tidy.

Another Tuesday came and went, and as usual, Frank was dead to the world. He was finally sleeping normally now that you were home and his routine had been restored. Frank always slept in nowadays - now that he had you beside him, he was catching up on a decade's worth of sleep.

Now, Frank Castle was normally a very heavy sleeper. Save for when he was out on tour in the military, he slept like a fucking plank. Nothing could wake him up - not fire alarms, not your neighbours and their inconsiderate routines, not even when a police car came ripping by your apartment window at 4AM.

"FRANCIS FRANKLIN FUCKING CASTLE, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY FUCKING CLOTHES?!"

Yeah, that'll do it.

Before Frank even had a chance to open his eyes and comprehend what was going on, the door to your shared bedroom burst open. He could see that you were angry - seething, even. The second thing he quickly spotted was your favourite jumper. Only now, it looked like it was from the newborn section at Target.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh."

"Now you're speechless? You run your mouth your whole life but the minute you ruin my favourite jumper - my favourite VINTAGE Paramore jumper THAT THEY NO LONGER SELL - you're silent?!" you exclaimed, throwing the jumper onto the bed. "Finally, a solution!"

Frank gulped. "Uhhhhhhh."

You let out an angry huff.

"You did my laundry last week," he began. Frank had a habit of starting sentences and hoping that the rest would come to him half way through, "it made me happy so I, uh, I thought maybe I'd do the same for you. But, I guess you read instructions on clothes and I don't."

Your angry face suddenly softened. "Oh, fuck. Now I feel bad."

"I did wonder what the little symbol on the label meant," Frank muttered.

You picked up the edge of the duvet and slid into bed beside Frank, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He was obviously still a little embarrassed, albeit more relaxed now that he knew you weren't about to bury him alive. Many people had tried, but he was sure you were the only one who could do it.

"Sorry, baby," he quietly said, "I had good intentions. For once."

You smiled. "Don't worry about it."

Frank furrowed his brow at you. "How the goddamn hell did you calm down so quickly?"

"I dunno, I have a hard time being mad at you."

"Huh," Frank murmured. "No-one's said that to me before."

You elbowed him lightly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I said I had a hard time staying mad. That doesn't mean you don't drive me up the-"

Before you could finish, a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you under the covers. Frank pressed a warm kiss to your lips, forehead resting against yours.

"I'm sorry about your jumper," he said. "I love you."

"I love you too," you replied, "and it's okay - you can just Paypal me the money for a new one and I'll forgive you."

[starrysan]

a night to remember

(title is indeed a laufey ref)

pairing: zamboni operator!san x figure skater! fem!reader

prerequisites/warnings: cursing, reader overworking, friends to lovers, me horribly naming different ice skating tricks..

a/n: I had this draft sitting here for a good month (in that time I released killin it, and like 3 chapters of nouvelle vague.. sorry san), inspired when I saw someone cleaning with the zamboni and someone was holding onto it on the side so they were like riding the zamboni together ykyk (ty for my friend for giving this idea) also this is 100% inspired by that one scene from Yuri on ice ifkyk

[2.4k words]

1st person pov (y/n)

the clock strikes 12. all my friends were long gone at this point. double axel, toe jump, salchow. I didn't even need my music at this point I had memorized my entire number in my head. just a few more times till I can go hom- "are you almost done?" I hear a voice that shakes me from my thoughts as I pause my skating.

"what?" I ask, taking my headphones out of my ears. "I said, are you almost done? I can't go home till the ice gets cleaned." the voice belonged to the zamboni operator, san? I think his name was? "oh yeah i'll be done in a minute" I say before skating around a bit more and reluctantly getting off the ice. I sit on the bench, taking my skates off, wiping the ice off of them and covering them before putting them back in my skate bag.

"why're you still here anyway? its way past 12" san asks going over to turn the zamboni on. "competitions in a few months and my numbers still.. missing something? I don't know" I reply, now finished packing up my bag. "sorry for keeping you waiting. goodnight san." and with that, I left the rink before exiting the building to the parking lot and getting on my bus.

3rd person pov

san wondered why y/n was freaking out when it seemed like she had so much time but he paid no mind. he cleaned the ice like usual, rounding the zamboni all the way around the ice before parking it and heading home himself. this cycle repeated the next few weeks. she would stay till almost midnight but san didn't mind, he watched her do the same routine ten times over, even enjoyed watching it to. her expression turn into a pout whenever she messed up or forgot something.

y/n noticed san's glances as she skated gracefully along the ice, so much so.. that she was too distracted and she slipped on a crack in the ice and fell over. "fuck" she muttered brushing the ice off her knees. "you okay?" san shouts over the glass covering the rink, y/n giving a thumbs up in response.

after the first week, san realized y/n was going home without getting something to eat and started bringing her little snacks to eat before her multi hour long skate sessions. it started with little snacks like a granola bar or a bag of chips, but it turned into full out meals or the two would grab food before she started her practice.

they got to know each other, san finding out y/n had been ice skating ever since she was a kid. y/n finding out san worked there because his dad was the owner of the rink. the two got close.. really close. to the point where they weren't sure what the two were anymore. y/n was currently in san's apartment laying on his lap on the couch as the two watched their favorite show together.

y/n was back on the ice when monday rolled around. she skated around her body moving before she even had to think. though she seemed to be having a bit of a hard time at practice today, stumbling onto herself. the lack of sleep seeming to having caught up to her.

she was getting yelled at left and right and looked like she was about to break. her instructor had her take a break and she stepped off the ice. she has her head down only poking it up when she senses san presence in front of her. she looks up at him and before either of them say anything san pulls her into a hug to which y/n breaks down in his arms.

she sobs into his shirt for a while before muttering a quiet, "I suck" into his chest. "you don't suck" san whispers back. "I do.. I cant get it right." she sniffles. "y/n look at me" san tells her looking down to meet her gaze as she lifts her head up. "you're so good at what you do. you know that right? even when you were just first learning your routine you'd work on it night after night and wouldn't leave till you perfected it. you can do it you just haven't gotten the rest you need.. which we both know is the main reason. but you can do it so don't tell me you suck because we both know you don't" san finishes.

"okay?" he raises an eyebrow at her. "okay" she says. "thanks san" she says hugging him again. "now go on show me your.. what's it called.. your triple axel." he smiles. she giggles before heading back on the ice. her instructor could sense something changed during her break and turned on her music. she skates around letting herself take in the music she had started getting sick of and instead relaxes herself as she skates doing her routine flawlessly.

she looks at san who gives her a smile and thumbs up in approval as she skates off and packs her stuff up. "our show at your place again? ill buy dinner" she asks as san revs up the zamboni. "yeah of course" he says. "wanna go for a ride?" he offers. "how?" she asks puzzled. "hang on tight" he says as she grabs onto the handle of the zamboni as san starts it up.

"woah" y/n exclaims in surprise as the two circle the ice rink. she sees the marks from the figure 8's she drew in the ice, the lines of chalk she drew to skate in a circle. she watches the marks practically vanish as san goes over them with the zamboni. after he finished cleaning he helped her off the machine before the two head to his place to watch their show. y/n falls asleep there as she usually did.

y/n was having another late night practice session as san watched from the benches. "so do you get to skate for free here?" y/n asks as she skates around. "technically yeah but um.." san pauses. "I don't know how to skate" he admits sheepishly. "no way really?" y/n says in surprise stopping right by the little doorway leading out to the rink.

"my dad gets me skates for Christmas every other year or so but I've never gotten around to using them." he continues. "do you want to learn?" y/n asks. "I think im gonna fall and bump my head" san tries to get out of it but the next thing he knew he was going circles around the ice clinging onto y/n for dear life since she didn't let him use the wall.

"y/n we're skating way too fast" he squeaks but y/n just giggles as they go towards the middle. she lets go of him for a second and he freezes in place as she does a figure 8 on the ice. she looked so elegant and ethereal. she smiles and heads back to him. "try skating to me" she says skating backwards no more than a couple feet away from him.

san shakes his head "im gonna fall" he pouts. "you will if you keep that mindset" y/n scoffs. "I won't let you fall san skate to me" she says. he slowly moves his feet more walking than skating but y/n didn't mind as he waddled his way over to her. "you got it!" y/n exclaims as he grasps her hand again. "okay that's enough for today" san frowns and y/n nods in agreement bringing them to the entrance. "did you have fun at least?" she asks cleaning her skates. he hums in reply. "guess so"

it was officially 2 days till competition day, y/n freaking out was a understatement. "y/n you're pacing so much you might burn off the carpet" san chuckles nervously as she paced around his apartment. "sorry i'm nervous as hell" y/n admits. "y/n you're gonna do great" he smiles. "I keep fucking up my triple axel.. what if I fall on the ice in front of everyone?" she says in almost fear. "or.. what if you do so good you get a standing ovation?" san counters. "we both know that's not happening" she sighs. "you never know" he smiles.

finally.. finally, finally it was competition day. y/n changes into her costume and heads out and meets up with san. his eyes widen as he sees her costume. it was an icy white with a flowy skirt, rhinestones and glitter along the skirts edge and her sleeves. "wow you look incredible" san says his jaw practically on the floor. "thank you" she says, nervousness clear in her voice as it shook a bit as she replied. "you're going to do great y/n" san reassures her. "hope you're right"

y/n's name booms through the loudspeakers and y/n walks to the rink stepping on it carefully. the music she had been blasting in her ears for months played almost like a bittersweet reminder to all the work she had put into this piece. she skates around, salchow, upright spin, axel, double axel, lutz jump. she hears her music come to an end as she skates to the center of the rink before she lets herself take a breathe so much had happened in the span of a few months. she had gotten praised, yelled at, she met san.. oh san he changed her life for sure. there wasn't time to think about him now though. she takes a moment before clearing her head completely.

without a second thought she jumps to do her final move. the triple axel she worked her ass off perfecting. the scolding of her instructor runs through her ears but its quickly replaced by san's reassurance. within an instant she goes to do her triple axel almost bracing for impact assuming she’d fall but.. no she didn't. she landed perfectly.

before she knew it, it was over. there wasn't any reaction for a moment but suddenly she hears a cheer, she looks to the side to see san practically jumping out of his seat on the sideline. his cheers are followed by clapping from the audience. it was no standing ovation but y/n didnt need one to feel achieved.

she takes a bow practically bolting off as san was waiting for her his arms wide open. she practically jumps off the ice into his arms as they almost fall backwards but san holds them both flat on the ground. it was like the hug he gave her months ago when she sobbed in his arms but this one was different. she releases herself from the hug still in his arms. they look at each other before anyone could say a word she kisses him. without a second thought she presses her lips right onto his. he gasps in surprise at first but he recovers quickly kissing her right back. they finally pull away from the kiss as san slowly brings her down to the ground. "you did it" he exclaims excitedly. "I knew you could do it" he cheers.

the two grip each other's hands as the places are announced. from runner ups to third place, second place, and finally.. "a night to remember by y/n l/n!" the announcer says and san and y/n jump for joy. "holy shit i won" y/n says in almost disbelief. "of course you won" san smiles lifting her up in his arms again spinning her in circles.

the rink clears out and san goes to clean the ice. "victory lap?" he asks giggling as y/n nods with a big smile stepping onto the zamboni's edge. they talk as san cleans the ice going over the cracks and bumps made by all the skaters on the ice that day. he finishes cleaning helping y/n down as he parks it.

y/n walks out with her trophy in one hand and grips san's hand in the other one. they walk to san's car and he opens the door and helps her in before stepping into the drivers seat. "our show at my place?" he asks starting up the car. "I thought you'd never ask" she smiles.

tysm for reading! if you have any requests pls send them my way!!

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permanent written fics taglist: @yvnhoos @linearities @kattarrynnka @dalsuwaha @coffeewwithdrawlheadaches @wonderz-real @xh01bri @sparda1234 @crownj1min @spenceatiny18

@wooyoungsbrat @cryplnk @cosmicrecs

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

pls, kind sir (gn), tell me all about your "peru leave au" 👀👀👀

Okay, so the timeline is fucked here because Tommy would've been in his early 30s and already in LA when Buck is in Peru. Instead, he's a little younger (29? 28?), joined the Army after college because it was that or he had to live with his dad again and that wasn't an option. Since he doesn't have a lot back home to visit while he's on leave, he goes on a trip with a few of the guys he's serving with, because one of them has family in Peru. Trying to figure the timeline has been a mess (DADT hasn't been repealed so it's 2010 but Buck would've been like 19 then instead but he's 21 here), I got distracted by other stuff, I have no idea when to reunite them, etc. But it'll get finished eventually I hope, because the whole idea is based around me wanting bb Tommy to fall for bb Buck and I'd rewatched Romancing the Stone with my sister right before I started this. I posted a snippet here from when they meet but here's a bit from when they have to say goodbye:

They crawl into bed together, and they look at each other and kiss and Evan tells him about the places he wishes he’d had time to take Tommy to, and Tommy tells him it’s okay, that he would’ve been happy if he’d never left their room.

“‘Our’ room?” Evan teases, but Tommy can see his smile in the dark.

“You know what I mean,” Tommy says lamely.

Evan kisses him again, his lips slack. It’s perfect.

“I don’t want to leave,” Tommy confesses.

“This isn’t it,” Evan says, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles under Tommy’s ear, the rest of his fingers curled around the side of his neck. “I’m not a romantic like you–”

“That’s a lie.”

“—but this feels like it has to be more than just one week, right?” Evan says, and Tommy hesitates before nodding. “So no matter what, the universe will get it right, even if we fuck it up somehow.”

Tommy almost says it, he can feel it like they’re physically in his throat trying to get out.

“I fell for you too hard for it to just be one week,” Evan says, and Tommy closes to scant space between them to kiss him, his eyes stinging.

When he pulls back, he takes Evan’s hand and presses it against his heart, and Evan nods. He knows, he knows.

Tommy doesn’t remember falling asleep.

–

Evan is sleeping when he gets up, but he wakes up just as Tommy is pulling on his clothes. He smiles at Tommy before shooting to his feet.

“Oh, no,” he says, a mournful, puppy-eyed sadness overtaking his beautiful face.

“Yeah,” Tommy says, his voice barely above a whisper. He has a lump in his throat, and his chest hurts, and his stomach is tying itself in knots.

“Wait,” Evan says, wiping a hand over one of his eyes. “Hold on.”

He digs through the top drawer of his dresser, which is half socks and underwear and half odds and ends. He doesn’t have any real storage in the small room. When he grabs a pen and a postcard, he writes down a Peruvian phone number and presses it to Tommy’s chest.

“I don’t know if I’ll have service for a while,” Tommy warns him.

“I don’t care,” Evan says, shaking his head. “Just–I know. I know that there’s so much about this that freaks you out, and it freaks me out, too. But I can’t ignore this, and I don’t think you can either.”

Tommy can’t answer without crying, so he just shakes his head. He takes the postcard and lifts Evan’s hand to his lips and kisses each of his knuckles carefully. When he’s done, he pulls Evan into his arms and kisses him. It feels like the kind of kiss that you see just before the credits roll or just before the screen cuts out and comes back to a wedding or some other kind of happily ever after. The only difference is that he can taste salt on Evan’s lips, and he feels like his chest has been blown open with a grenade.

[justastraymoa]

Yet Unnamed

Chapter 5

Masterlist

Warnings for Yet Unnamed: Kidnapping, cuffs, injuries, drugging by injection, mentions of needles, lots of swearing, kissing, fluff, angst, idiots in love all around.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

~

The sun hadn’t even peeked over the horizon when your door opened, and you bounced awake as several bodies jumped onto the bed with you.

“Y/n!”  Han crooned pushing at your shoulder.

“Why?”  You asked plainly rubbing your tired eyes.

“We wanted to say goodbye.  You will be gone by the time we are done today.”  Lee Know replied.

You slapped the bed as Binnie draped himself on top of you.  “I said goodbye last night.”  You shift so Bin wasn’t crushing your hips together painfully.  His weight pushing you into the bed was surprisingly comforting and you pat his head heavily.

“Like that was going to be enough.”  Seungmin scoffed.  He smacked at your foot, and you kick at him petulantly.

“Did you pack?”  Chan asked.  He looked around the room at the lack of suitcase.  Just a mini backpack.

You pointed to the backpack.  “Just a carry on.  I have clothes at home.”

“Did you pack your charger?  Snacks?  Water?”

You smiled.  It was nice to have someone worry over you again.  It had been several years since anyone cared.  “Packed the charger.  Snack and drinks are provided on the plane.”

You tapped Bin to let you up.  He sat up and pulled you with him, making you whine as the blanket slipped off and the cool air hit your sleep warm skin.  He mumbled an apology.

“How are you getting to the airport?”  Hyunjin asked.

“We can give you a ride.”  Chan offered.

“You cannot skip more work.  You will make STAY sad.  I will get an Uber.”  You looked at your phone.  “In fact you are going to be late already.”

Chan checked his own phone and I.N shrugged.

Hyunjin threw his arms around both you and Bin, squeezing tight.  “Be safe.  Text all the time.  And call!”  He ordered.

You squeezed him back.  “I will.  And 2 weeks will fly by.  You will be so busy trying to catch up you wont even have time to think about me.”

“I already miss you!”  Felix whined, joining in on the hug.

Everyone else wrapped around you as well until you were being squeezed by all 8 of your soulmates.  And you were pretty sure you felt someone kiss the top of your head, but there was no way to tell who it was, and you doubted they would fess up if you asked.

~

Once at the airport you sat at your terminal, facing the runway to watch the planes, but pulling your phone out first.

You chuckled at Chans obvious overthinking and simultaneously cringed at yourself.  You were so awkward!

You texted back and forth for a while before your plane started to board and you were forced to turn off your phone.

Traveling with no luggage was the best. No baggage claims or trying to fit bags into the overhead compartment. Literally just had a mini backpack you could shove under your seat.

And your flight only had one crying baby. They settled down after an hour or so. Tuckered out most likely. You were sure the poor parent with them was just as relieved as everyone else, if not more. You felt bad for them.

In your row was just a young girl and her father. They quietly talked while watching cartoons on her pink tablet. And the girl was in the middle so you didn't feel as squished as you usually would.

You even managed to relax back into your seat and let the background noise of the plane become a pleasant hum, closing your eyes and managing a light on and off sleep to kill time.

In between naps you played offline games and read on your phone, even interacting with the little girl next to you when she seemed to get fidgety and bored with her cartoons. Her dad snored softly beside her.

Overall, the flight was long, but entertaining enough to not bore you to tears. You were still relieved to be walking when you finally landed and were allowed to deplane.

You never flew or really went on trips anywhere. But somehow this airport felt more comfortable and familiar. More like home. Maybe because this is the airport you grew up near. The one you stood with your mom at while waiting for your dad to get back from a business trip. The one you toured and got to go behind the scenes in when you were in Girl Scouts. The one all over the news when that meth head went crazy and started screaming through the terminals, security chasing after him.

This is where you lived and graduated from. You learned to drive on these streets and went to a nearby hospital when you fell off your bike while learning to ride a 2-wheeler. Your grandfather took you, lecturing you the entire time about the proper way to ride and what you did wrong, but being so gentle when he carried you in, even when you said you could walk.

Its where your family is buried.

Leaving this place behind was bittersweet for you. You would miss it, but you were also moving toward a huge and amazing adventure. With your soulmates.

Your mother said you were lucky. It had been 5 generations since your family had had someone born with a soul mark. And you had 8 soulmates. Anytime you felt lonely or sad as a child she would remind you that there were 8 people out there waiting for you. Whose souls called for and matched yours like puzzle pieces. It never failed to cheer you up. And even when she was gone, you would remember her words during hard times and feel less alone in this big world.

Your phone chirped repeatedly with new messages as you waited for your ride home. While you stood off to the side and in plain view, you read over the messages and realized that they kept using the group chat to talk to each other. It made you smile. You were still kept in the loop, and it felt good. They still wanted you to know what was going on and be a part of their days.

You continued to text through your ride home and freshening up. Until you could no longer keep your eyes open. They popped in and out of chat as they got busy with things and couldn't text

You were shocked you lasted as long as you did. As soon as you unlocked your door the weariness hit you like a ton of bricks, and you didn't even bother to unpack anything from you bag before cleaning up and crawling into bed.

The first week didn't necessarily fly by, but it didn't drag either. The pain and emptiness from being so far from your soulmates was a constant ache that you could never escape from. And you often found yourself staring off into space and rubbing your chest above the ache, trying to ease it as best you could. It was worse at night when you were lying in bed trying to sleep. There was nothing to distract yourself then and, in the end, it made it so you didn't sleep very well. Often giving up and getting up to pack some more instead. You were trying to get done quickly anyway.

As you expected, your job fired you immediately when they heard your lack of explanation. How were you supposed to explain your sudden disappearance for days? It's not like you could tell them you were kidnapped!

But in the end, it worked out for you. Now you could leave as soon as your apartment was packed up and sold off. Get back to the others faster.

You didn't tell them. You weren't sure how quickly you could finish, and you didn't want the anticipation to make things worse than they already were. It was so hard being away from them. Being alone again. And you had only had them for a very short time. Truly, your entire existence is altered when you meet your soulmates. How does anyone ever resist the bond?

You only kept the most irreplaceable and sentimental things. Including your K-pop memorabilia that you spent so much money on over the years. You couldn't part with it. You packed everything tightly and securely in boxes and shipped it to the apartment in Korea. It was much cheaper and easier than trying to get everything onto the plane. Everything else was sold, donated, or thrown away.

You notified anyone who needed it that you were moving, closed accounts, paid off remaining bills, etc. Even as busy as you were, the ache was always in the forefront of your mind.

You spend all day and night in the chat group. It was your lifeline to your boys. Even if you had nothing to say other than letting them know what you just packed up or canceled. Or sending a random picture or meme when you were taking a break.

The deeper conversations where you got to know each other happened when one side was in bed for the evening. Feeling secure and safe in their beds under the covers and willing to open up and be more vulnerable.

Also, later when everyone over there was asleep but insomniac Chan and you two switched over to one-on-one conversations in order to not blow up everyones phone while they were trying to sleep.

Finally, you were at the airport and more than ready to get back to your soulmates.

You still hadn't told anyone you were coming home. But only because you looked when you changed your ticket and realized you were on the same flight home as Hyunjin and Felix when you switched flights at your layover. You wanted to surprise them.

Granted you weren't going to be able to talk to each other or sit anywhere near each other since they were in first class. And you needed to be careful that no one found out you knew each other and made the connection before your perfectly created story had the chance to be aired. But you were still going to be closer than you had been in over a week.

The teasers and wind up to the reveal would start tomorrow. You would be taking partial photos with each member to post to their account with very carefully worded hints into finding their 9th and final soul bond member. Each member would take their own photo, and you would work with them on how and when to post it to keep STAY and the media guessing and craving more. And you were working with staff to create a cute, cozy little, meet cute, coffee/book shop photo shoot for the reveal photos. Plus, your one kids' room type of introduction video will be recorded soon.

Somehow you were nervous about seeing everyone again. Everything seemed fine in the messages. It was easy and flowed nicely. What if it wasn't as comfortable, as open in person as you were in texts, and it became awkward?

And it meant really starting your new life. Getting into the new job and letting the world see Stray Kids soul bond group for the first time all together.

When they saw you at the terminal, Felix almost ran right to me, but Hyunjin stopped him and pointedly looked around them at the hundreds of phones from STAY, recording everything they did. Felix looked so disappointed when he realized.

You had joined the crowd of STAYs swooning over and recording Hyunlix. Screaming at the top of your lungs and trying to get closer, jumping excitedly.

They were both trying to watch you without watching you and failing to hide their laughing. Hyunjin even snapped a photo, pretending it was of the crowd at large but aimed at you.

Hey, you are a fan, and you had done a marvelous job at not fangirling all over them when you first met, so you were going to take this opportunity while you could. Too bad all 8 of them weren't here, so you could really get it out of your system.

You watched as Felix and Hyunjin both worked their way down the barrier of fans. Making hand hearts and pausing for photos. You expected Felix to grab your hand briefly like he had several others and move on, but instead he grabbed your phone, shocking you.

He gestured you forward with a laugh, flipping the camera on your phone to selfie mode and leaning in close to you. Giddy and still in fangirl mode, you squeal and lean in, giving your phone a half heart to complete the one he was doing. He snapped the photo and handed you the phone back, brushing your fingers as he did, and gave you a wide smile and wink before moving on.

As he passed the STAYs around you crowded closer to see the photo and you proudly show it off, tears building in your eyes from excitement.

Hyunjin was slightly less subtle. He didn’t take a selfie with you, but he did lace your fingers together in the air for a bit longer than strictly necessary. And he didn’t lace his fingers with any other fan either. He squeezed your hand and made direct eye contact before moving on. Your fangirl heart was fit to burst.

You smiled at Hyunjin and Felix one more time as they boarded before everyone else. Celebrity treatment. You wouldn’t be able to be anywhere near them on the flight, but it soothed something in the space you associated with your soul mate bond in your chest just to have them near you again. To know that they are close after so long.

This flight wasn’t quiet. There were several crying children who never quieted down, and at least one small yapping dog that the owner just let bark the entire time. And it smelled like wet dog throughout the whole cabin. You were in the middle seat between a man who smelled like a bar and woman who used an entire bottle of perfume. And both hogged the armrests. Halfway into the flight the woman removed both her shoes and socks and proceeded to cross her legs and pick at some kind of green fungus on her toenails. You wanted to vomit.

You were so ready to get off the plane you broke plane etiquette and almost ran off the plane and through the airport to the exit. You got absolutely no sleep, had a massive headache from the smells, and was exhausted from the whole disgusting ordeal.

A car was waiting to pick up a passenger right outside the airport, so you didn’t even need to wait. You gave the driver the address and leaned back in the seat with a sigh, closing your eyes.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

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[kookinglikeachef]

Hi <3

Could you do a request either for GOT7 or ATEEZ - how they would react to the reader being sick at home (a cold or something not too serious!!) whilst they're on tour?

Ty! <3

kookinglikeachef: Finally a GOT7 request. Unfortunately it’s not a crack one but send in more of those requests and I will get back to you in 3 to 5 business weeks 🙂‍↔️.

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Mark:

He wouldn’t bother you too much because he just wants you to rest up but even though he’s so far away from you, he’d still want you to let him know if you needed anything. He’d send you selfies of his pouty face if you haven’t texted him back in a while. When he’s back in his hotel room, he’ll stay on the phone with you until you go to sleep.

Jay B:

You try to pretend like you’re fine because you know how he can get about your health and the last thing you wanted to do was worry him. So when he calls you on FaceTime and notice you’re acting suspicious, he isn’t certain what to think for a split second. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.” You’d tell him it’s nothing but just one look at your red nose and puffy eyes is enough for him to know that it wasn’t nothing. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, who are you trying to fool?” He’d playfully laugh but from there, things turn serious and he’s listing off foods you should and shouldn’t eat and putting you on a tight schedule, aligning it with his so he can check on you whenever he’s got the time. Would probably use disgustingly adorable amounts of aegyo if it’d help you recover quicker.

Jackson:

Another one you tried to avoid worrying but him finding out was inevitable. It would only add to his growing stress. He’d feel regretful for not being there for you, and yet you still manage to support him from home. Tells you you’re still beautiful even though you probably look and sound disgusting. Wants you to recover as soon as possible so he’d call his mom to help take care of you. Wouldn’t forget to check on you. He’ll work even harder because he knows you’re cheering for him, even when you’re under the weather.

Jinyoung:

Half jokes that he may be coming down with a cold as well because he kissed you before he left. Half nags you to take care of yourself. “Drink lots of water.” “Don’t forget to take your medicine.” “Stop texting me and get your rest or you’re not going to get better loser.” But you’d wake up with a bunch of I love you’s and get well soon texts.

Youngjae:

You tell him you’re sick and guess what? So is he. Too sick to perform at tonight’s show and is confined to his hotel bed. But he’d try to sing the setlist to you even though he’s supposed to be resting his voice. Is totally jealous that you get to cuddle with Coco.

Bambam:

He wouldn’t really panic and focus more on taking your mind off of it. Tells you all about GOT7’s activities and the things he’s done to annoy Jay B. Purposely makes you laugh because he finds it funny when it causes you to get snot bubbles, even though you beg him to stop. Still, he’d remind you to stay in bed and rest. He’ll check on you at any available second. Would gladly get anything you needed delivered to you.

Yugyeom:

He would be so sulky and whines at you when he finds out that you’re sick after he found time in his schedule to FaceTime with you. Of course he’s worried about you and wants you to feel better but he’d spend most of the call complaining about how much he hates you being sick more than you do and somehow you’re the one trying to make him feel better.

[universalzones]

"Whisper, you can dump whatever ya want on me, and not just because we're dating. You could've always done that and I'd have been more than happy to listen." Tangle always tried her best to make it clear Whisper could talk to her about anything, though knew she was just a really guarded person. The lemur has gotten better about boundaries and trying to push the wolf out of her comfort zone. Still, she wouldn't every try to make the other talk about something they don't want to.

"I have no idea, though Blaze's world is all mystical and stuff, right? Who knows what crazy stuff they can do. I mean, even without that crazy super awesome form Blaze has I've seen her do a lot of crazy stuff." Tangle wasn't sure, though it sounded like Blaze's world might have more options. "It couldn't hurt to ask, and I think she's staying with everyone to help get The Restoration back on it's feet." It'd make it easy to get ahold of her at least.

"Oh, we can make it apart of the vacation!" Tangle would suddenly shout. "Sorry, though maybe before when we feel ready to head back we'll spend one week in Sol to check out the sights and see if they have some fancy magic stuff to help you with your voice." It'd be a great chance for them to see another world and find out if they can help Whisper.

"Oh, I wonder what foods they have in Blaze's world. Maybe I can find something spicy to try." Tangle was a bit of a chili head and was always looking for something spicy to try and withstand. The lemur couldn't say there were many just the things that are stupidly spicy. Anything with a decent or even a bit heavy amount of spicy she can handle.

She felt herself leaning into Tangle's arms feeling awful for dumping that on her. It just kind of came out and, now she was hiding her face in her hands feeling ashamed and a little bashful about it. For someone who could break your neck in 17 different ways she could be rather easily embarrassed. But she did feel a little ashamed for feeling that way. When tangle said it didn't make her a coward she shook her head no---but still had her face covered so it just came off as more cute then it did anything else. She hated herself for being this way, but was glad Tangle was there to hold and console her.

Yet Tangle had such a tender way of talking to her, and she made more sense then most. She felt her lean back and finally let her hands drop to her lap. Fidgeting in place she still felt weak and cowardly for not getting it done sooner. But maybe Tangle was right, maybe there were options she hadn't explored before. In truth she hadn't know to much about Blaze and the princess had mostly never spoken to her beyond a hello, or a respectful nod.

✋ Sorry, didn't mean to dump all that on you... ✋

She signed wanting to apologize to Tangle, who was always putting up with her crazy life. First with Mimic and the Cutters, then her life with Gun and more then any of that... her being mute was hard on everyone and she knew that. Hell she couldn't even hold a conversation with Rowan without a pad to write on.

✋Do you really think Blaze can help? ... my throat was so damaged as child, not even the GUN doctors could fix it. ✋

She smiled at Tangle's goofiness, and the way she promised to be with her. It wasn't saving the world, it wasn't fighting this was all very personal to her. Yet Tangle always managed to make her smile, and she reached up and touched her heart making the sign for ' i love you' to tangle. Her soft blue eyes visible as Tangle continued to help pull her out of her own little dark place.

Maybe... just maybe, one day soon--- she could finally tell her how much she meant to her.

[bismuthburnsblue]

Anne pants to do list (for motivation)

First coat of paint on left back leg ✓

Second coat of paint on left back leg ✓

Tape on right front leg ✓

First coat of paint on right front leg ✓

Second coat of paint on right front leg ✓

Tape on left front leg ✓

First coat of paint on left front leg ✓

Second coat of paint on left front leg ✓

Trim pieces to size? ✓

Sew front crotch seam ✓

↳Overlock ✓

Sew back crotch seam ✓

↳Overlock ✓

Sew inside leg seam ✓

↳Overlock ✓

↳↳ topsew? faux flat felled seam, as on jeans

Sew right outside leg seam ✓

↳Overlock ✓

Overlock left outside leg edges singularly ✓

Baste left outside leg closed for fitting ✓

↳tack zip in while closed? ✓

Sew back darts, adjusting positions to form a fake fall back ✓?

Sew in invisible zip to left outside leg ✓

Close up remainder of the seam ✓

Cut out Waist Facing

↳Interface if necessary

↳↳Elastic?

Join Sections of Waist facing

↳Overlock

Sew to Waistband

↳Overlock

Understitch Waist Seam

Sew facing down round zip (possibly before the previous step?)

Hem trouser leg (cuffs? if im feeling fun about it)

Sew buttons to back darts for the (fake) fall

Any finishing touches i mightve missed

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[instantpansies]

DONE AT LAST!!!!!!!! AT LAST!!!!! AT LAST!!!!

oKAY that was fun! enjoyable! the score is ofc excellent even if im sick to death of mozart (been playing and listening to almost nothing but mozart for the past two weeks). but this doesn't ever feel like it drags, it's fun and upbeat, the themes are very present without being so wildly overbearing. this performance was very very good, great voices and actually quite good acting as well!

im not gonna go into a ton more detail since i now have to write up an actual presentation, but this was a good way to force myself through it i think. it was really fun!!! just a lot, and im really not looking forward to this presentation (tomorrow at 9:30 am aaaaaaugh)

anyways, this was very fun. i'd recommend checking it out if you like opera, and even if you don't it's fairly accessible and the comedy mostly holds up! it's got very likeable characters, a couple of hateable characters, and it's just a good time. la ponte's libretto is well written and straightforward enough that you can tell what's going on, it's not overly repetitive, the songs are different enough that it doesn't feel like you're listening to one very long piece. the recitatives are also not the painfully slow stuff of baroque opera, and they actually keep the plot moving. there aren't so many asides that it breaks immersion, which i appreciate. don't get me wrong i love an aside (susanna's especially feel good here!) but i don't need one in every single aria, at least not one that feels directed at Me. like, internal monologue, sure, but i don't need your feelings explained at every turn. anyways this isn't about nozze anymore. uhhhhhmmm. yeah it's good 👍 goodnight gamers im gonna go make a powerpoint see u around

ok fineeee u got me i'll liveblog le nozze di figaro. since i know you're all begging for it (no actually bc this is the only way i can trick myself into doing the work i desperately need to do)

as always #toastblock is spam tag, first and last posts will be tagged #toast watches le nozze di figaro.

[andy-clutterbuck]

1x04 - What We | The Ones Who Live

[puppppppppy]

its so hard to watch time pass when things like careers and assignments exist. what do you mean im supposed to take that seriously

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...