#we have now had this puppy for two weeks and she’s for sure here to stay

[harmonizewithechoes]

.

[rin-may-1103]

Aspiring Escape Artist (part two)

Last | Master Post | Next...

"Why don't we all head inside, yes?" Mr. Wayne suggested, waving his arm in the doors general direction.

"Yes, that sounds great," Ms. Clance agreed, turning to Danny like she was debating whether or not she should drag him inside. Danny was very against that idea and glared at her. She huffed but turned and started making her way up the stairs.

The other, he can't really say kids because he's pretty sure half the people standing in front of him were over the age of eighteen, but they still lived with Mr. Wayne, apparently, so kids it was. The other kids continued to try to stealthily watch him as they made their way into the building. (He refused to call this place a house; it was bigger than Sam's manor for Ancients' sake.)

The gray-eyed girl waited for him, the not-so-happy but happy sparkle back as she watched him approach. Pausing for a moment, Danny turned and gently patted the bush closest to him, it had been practically begging for attention for the past ten minutes and Sam would have throttled him if he had just ignored it.

She treated them like demented puppies, and it's against every unspoken law (in danny's books, atleast) to ignore a puppy.

The gray-eyed girl (man, he was going to have to learn their names, Ancients, why were there so many people here?) tilted her head curiously, eyeing the plant he just patted.

"My friend has plant powers," Danny huffed, which was true. Sam still had lingering plant control and a connection to the green because of Undergrowth. Danny was just leaving out the fact that he also had plant powers. He wasn't sure why he always got new powers after beating new powerful ghosts, but it happens, and now he needs to pet the plants because they get sad if he doesn't.

(Jazz theorized once that the new powers were due to his half-a nature, but then they looked at Vlad and decided it was probably something else.) (Also, why in the world did he get ice powers and then almost immediately plant powers? like, seriously, why?)

"Close friend?" Gray asked, turning to follow Danny inside.

"One of my best friends," Danny agreed. Man, he missed them. He'd have to figure out how to get out of here soon; there was no way he was going to just not see his friends on Tucker's birthday. Which meant he had about a week to bust out of here and get back to Amity. Oh, and stay under the radar so Vlad doesn't find him.

Glancing around the entry hall, or was the term foyer? like, the place was fancier then most five star hotels he's seen (which he wants to make clear, was against his dying wishes. fuck vlad and his not hard earned money.) like, sure, it wasn't all white modern minimalist like the hotels, but he's pretty sure the vase just sitting a little too close to the edge of a table was worth more then a human heart on the black market.

"Welcome to Wayne Manor," Mr. Pennyworth started, closing the doors with a heavy thud. He didn't lock it, though, Danny noted. Probably because Ms. Clance still needed to leave.

"may I have your coats?" he asked, holding out his arm to Ms. Clance and looking over to Danny. Ms. Clance immediately started to shrug off her jacket and dropped it onto his arm without a second glance, trying to talk to Mr. Wayne about an office or something.

Danny shook his head, "No thanks. I prefer to keep my things with me." especially in a new place, who knows what they'd do to his stuff. last time he handed anything over it had been locked up and never returned. (or well, not returned until he stole it back right before leaving, but that's getting into semantics.)

"So, Daniel was it?" the older guy from the first three asked, smiling brightly and trying to act casual. He was failing.

"It's Danny," Danny huffed, glancing around to study the others.

Gray was nice, he had a feeling they'd get a long fine. she was like an open book, all her opinions and emotions right there for him to see. Though that just meant she was awear of them and could easily hide them.

The others not so much.

Eyebags looked tired but alert, watching Danny like he was a new puzzle. Which was fine, Danny could deal with that. He probably wasn't as bad as Jazz or his parents were when obsessed with new things, so he goes lower on the list but not off.

Mr. Casual over here was watching him AND the others, which meant he was probably the peacekeeper. That or he was the one who antagonized the others into acting without them noticing. Same as eyebags, then.

Blondie looked like she was planning how to prank him right then and there, but also like she was evaluating him for something. Like he thought earlier, she'll probably stick around until she gets bored. So, hmmm. Keep an eye on more than eyebags, but probably not a problem.

there was a kid maybe two-three years younger than him trying to hide on the stairs out of view, he looked pissed off and annoyed. Something was telling Danny he should stay away from him. So, definitely going to the top of his list right next to butler man.

And finally, Mr. Wayne. He was smiling and chatting with Ms. Clance like he didn't have a care in the world. And it would have been believable if it wasn't for the fact that the man was easily steering the conversation away from the stuff Ms. Clance wanted to talk about, without Danny around, before leaving. Which means Mr. Wayne wanted Danny to be part of the conversation, probably to get both sides of the story.

He was smart and knew how to manipulate situations without people catching on.

Also, top of the list, then.

"Only people who want to kill me call me Daniel," Danny added, watching as Ms. Clance tried to bring up his file and fell for another diversion.

"Really?" Eyebags asked, actually surprised for some reason.

Oh, wait, murder isn't normal. Ha, to live a normal life. It must be boring. Couldn't be him, even if he wanted it. There was nothing normal about growing up with mad scientists, and nothing normal about being half dead and a vigilante.

"Yeah, my friends and I made a chart and everything. Granted, we didn't have many people to add to the list to compare with, but it's checked out so far." Danny admitted, turning to face Eyebags.

Honestly, it was just Vlad, his parents, a few GIW agents, and those very few times his friends almost killed him. But come on, they all called him Daniel at some point. Therefore, it totally checks out.

"Huh," Mr. Casual blinked, glancing at his siblings before shaking his head. "Right, so uh, why do people want to kill you?"

"Because they're Fruit Loops," Danny grumbled, finally deciding to approach Ms. Clance. Might as well get this done and over with. The longer she stayed, the less time Danny would have to scout the place by himself later, after all the introductions.

Next (to be written)

[ddejavvu]

so i absolutely love the best friend james potter fic where he warms his hands between the reader’s thighs and the idea of him having really bad circulation just makes sense to me, so can we get a technically kinda part two but instead of between the readers thighs it’s that portion of underboob that just heats up so much for no reason whatsoever? 🙇🙇🙇

Sirius's canine form requires him to get at least twelve hours of outdoor time per week, but during the winter months it becomes a chore delegated to the least lucky of the group: take Padfoot for a walk.

"Please, Jamie?" You'd leveled James with puppy eyes that rivalled Sirius himself, and now two sets of footprints lay in the snow beside pawprints that wind around them in happy trails.

"It's bloody cold out here." James comments, like your own nose isn't burning from the temperature, "Sirius, can't you piss on trees faster?"

Padfoot, who greatly resents the tree-pissing stereotype, takes a snapping lunge at James's ankles that sends him careening into you from your left.

"James!" You shriek as your feet and his knock clumsily together, all four united in trying to stabilize you. His arm wraps around your waist and he finds his footing first, which means that you're supported by his grip as you find your own. You find yourself inches away from his face, his nose stained red akin to his cheeks as you both laugh at how you've ended up pinned to a tree in the forest. Sirius barks at you, sounding suspiciously giddy, and James drags his hands off of your back, trailing them over your stomach as he goes.

"Gonna put a muzzle on you for that one, mutt." James threatens Sirius, who dashes off to find a stick or lick a toad or whatever else his dog brain fancies at the moment. You're left trailing beside James once again, wishing that you had your own stick to drag through the snow.

"You were really warm," James reminisces, his hands surely going numb, "Like- your stomach?"

"It's my boobs," You snicker, "No matter how cold a girl gets, the space beneath her tits will always be warm."

"Really?" James peers curiously at you, "That's cool. It's like a life hack."

"Right. It's-" You stick a hand guilelessly beneath your shirt, nestling it beneath the curve of your bra, "It's not, like, sweaty or anything. Just warm."

"Fascinating." James pushes his glasses up his nose with a single outstretched finger, "Wish I had some of those."

"You can borrow mine," You concede, taking James's hand in your own and sliding it up your stomach until his hand is leeching off of the same warmth you'd felt only seconds prior, "Feel it?"

His jaw drops, one of his unruly curls bouncing stubbornly in front of his face.

"Darling, you weren't kidding! It's like an oven in here." He hums, his other hand greedily reaching for the excess space beneath your chest, "Oh my god, if I had this I'd never stop touching it."

When Padfoot returns it's to James pressing you against another tree, hands pressed firmly to the space beneath your tits. He charges for James determinedly, latching his teeth around the man's elbow and pulling with all of his might to separate his friend from you.

"Pads- ouch! She's- relax, Fido, she's let me. I'm warming my hands, thank you very much."

James manages to pry Padfoot's maw off of him, hissing at the skin surely bruised beneath his thick wool coat.

"It's alright, Sirius." You rub sweetly between the dog's ears, "His hands were cold, that's all. Don't want to bring him back to the castle with less than ten fingers."

Sirius's resulting growl towards James sounds suspiciously like he's going to lose fingers anyways, whether it be from frostbite or a dog's bite.

[aryaryxoxo]

#katsuki bakugou x neighbor!reader is giving grumpy and sunshine trope!!!

Prev

Imagine being the only one who gets to witness the King Explosion Murder being a total clumsy mess when he first entered your bedroom. You always visited his before this—like it was your second home. But how did you even manage to get his grumpy little ass to act like a well-behaved puppy around you?

By a simple bandage.

You, a 6-year-old tiny ball of sunshine, were just minding your business—throwing pebbles instead of coins into the empty park fountain, wishing for a new All Might coloring book. Then suddenly—you heard it.

Thud!

You turned around, curious, and spotted a blonde, spiky-haired kid on the ground. He was grunting, scowling at his scraped knee that was now gushing with blood like it had a personal vendetta. Drama much?

Concerned, you ran up to him and said, “Don’t touch it! You’ll make it worse!”

He muttered something rude like, “I’m fine, stupid!” but you didn’t mind. You just pouted, ignored his bad attitude, and gently pulled out your most prized possession—a sparkly All Might bandage from your tiny pocket.

With the brightest smile on your face, you handed it to him like it was some sacred offering.

“Here! Heals faster when All Might’s on it,” you chirped. And that’s how you won the heart of the angriest boy you met. 

By the time you finished sticking the bandage on for him, he was already pink in the face—and not from the wound.

You are shocked—and honestly kind of happy—to see him again when you and your family move into your new home.

He’s your new neighbor.

His mom—very sweet lady, actually, even with the matching scowl like his son—greeted your family with homemade food and warm smiles. Then she turned to her son and said with a sharp little squint: “Katsuki. Be nice to her. Make sure she doesn’t feel alone on her first day of school.”

He scowled. “Tch. Whatever.”

But the next day at school, he really took it to heart. All your worries about being the new kid, about sitting alone at lunch or not knowing anyone? Gone.

Because Bakugou Katsuki sat beside you like he’d been doing it forever—plopping his lunchbox down and muttering, “Tch. Everyone here’s annoying. You’re less annoying.”

Which, from him, was basically a love letter.

You were just about to wander around, maybe sit under a tree and daydream again, when he came stomping over—hands behind his back, scowl firmly in place, ears suspiciously pink.

Without a word, he held something out to you. An All Might coloring book.

Exactly like the one you were wishing for just last week, when you were tossing pebbles into that dry park fountain. 

“You can use my colors too… if you want.” He said, your eyes sparkled. “You have the glitter ones?!”

“Yea,” he muttered, ears turning pink. “Recess is almost over. If you wanna finish it, we can… do it at my house.”

And that was the beginning.

One coloring book afternoon at his house. You sitting cross-legged on his bedroom floor, brows furrowed in intense concentration, carefully coloring All Might’s cape like your life depended on not going out of the lines. And Bakugou? Sitting next to you, pretending not to stare.

His glitter crayons sat open between you two like a peace offering. Every time your hand reached out, he nudged the right color toward you—without even looking up. Like he knew what you’d need before you asked.

He’d never say it, but he thought it was kind of cool. How serious you got when coloring. How your nose scrunched a little when you were focused.

His mom, peeking in to call you both for snacks, froze.

Because there was her son—the same boy who used to scream at the neighbor kids for stepping on his side of the sidewalk—now sitting quietly, watching you, with the softest, most secret smile on his face.

He didn’t even notice she had her phone out.

Click.

She took a picture.

After that day, his mom got very used to seeing you around. Like clockwork.

At first, she’d greet you at the door with a smile and snacks. But after the fifth… maybe seventh coloring session, she waved her hand and said, “You don’t need to ring the doorbell anymore, sweetie. Just come right in. He’s in his room.”

Bakugou shouted from upstairs, “DON’T JUST TELL PEOPLE THAT—!!” You giggled. And kept visiting anyway.

One coloring session turned into building a volcano project together in middle school. (“Don’t mess up the lava part, dumbass.” “I’m not, Katsuki! You’re the one holding it sideways!”)

That turned into movie nights on weekends, where he claimed he “wasn’t crying, it’s just allergies” during the sad scenes and would immediately throw popcorn at you if you stared for too long.

Eventually, it became walking home from high school side by side.

Him picking you up from your school, still wearing his slightly unkept U.A. uniform, your backpack slung lazily over his shoulder, the both of you walking close—your hands brushing against each other with every step.

Now, the two of you stood in front of your house.

“If you’re free tomorrow afternoon… we could play Mario Kart,” he muttered, handing you your backpack like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Sure!” you beamed.

He watched as you gave him your usual goodbye—then stood there quietly until the door shut behind you.

Bakugou pulled out his phone, unlocking it with one hand. A new notification from the Class 1-A group chat popped up.

Denki: I’m TELLING YOU that man has a girlfriend.

He rolled his eyes. All because those three idiots couldn’t shut their mouths and spread it in the entire class what happened when they visited. And now, the entire class wouldn’t shut up. 

He rolled his eyes and locked his phone.

Then paused.

He turned it back on and stared at his wallpaper.

It was you and him on the floor, coloring the All Might book.

taglist: @magicalrainbowfish @vnstennis @g-cf2020 @kitwantsseconds @eliankm @xxchaosjojoxx @notellaxx @lipstainedgemini

a/n: if you have any ideas for this pairing, please send it in my inbox (˶˃⤙˂˶)

[t44ovely]

A Friend For You, Love - Lando norris x f!reader

Summary: After years of wanting a dog, your dream finally comes true…

Word count: 875

Trope: fluff<3

—

Ever since you and Lando started dating, even before that you knew that the time he would be away is big part of the year. Since you were working too the time you had to together, was very limited until now.

You moved together after 2 years of dating and finally it started to feel like you saw each others more than three times a month.

Your sitting in the couch in your house in Monaco, the dream house of yours has finally started to feel like home. Lando is away in a race in China, the second race of the season and your at home because of work.

It is friday night, the practices are over and your get up to go get ready for the bed, when the doorbell rings. You freeze for a moment, cause no one should be coming over or anything, you haven’t ordered anything.

You take your phone and walk to the door, you look thuru the peephole to see who it is and it is a delivery guy. You open the door very slowly and carefully, ”hey good evening miss, i have a packagefor you,” the blond haired guy says to you.

”Ohh i haven’t ordered anything if i remember right,” you say to him looking at the package, ”it is a cift or at least that what was called, theres also two more and im pretty sure you should open this soon, this little guy is probably getting hot in here,” he says carefully handing the package to you.

Little guy? You think, what the hell is happening. You take the package from him and he helps you to get the two others in, you thank the delivery man and close the door. Walking to the livingroom and setting the package into your couch.

You hesitate for a moment, but you still start to open the package and when you open it…theres the most cutest thing you’ve ever seen. A brown Dachshund puppy, looks up at you. You let out little gasp and your about to cry, you see a little note in the box.

”Hey love, i got a friend for you. I miss you, but i think she will be somewhere near me so yeah, i love you baby.”

Love: LN

Your about to cry when you take the puppy into your hands, she looks so tiny and cute at the same time. ”Hi little one, im y/n. What do you think we should call you?” You say kissing her nose. She licks your nose too and you giggle.

You walk to the other packages you got and start opening them. One box has lot of food and another note.

”Hi you, i assume you found the little one? Heres enough food for about a week and then we can go get her more when i get home.”

Love: LN

You smile reading the note, ”your father is a very nice man, don’t you think?” You say looking at the little puppy in your arms. You set her to the ground to go thuru the other package, and you start smiling finding another note from no other than Lando.

”Hi again, heres toys for this little one.”

Love: LN

Well that was short, you thought. You go thuru the toys and set few of them into the ground for the little one to play and get used to.

You start thinking the names for her, your mind goes thuru every film and show characters you love. You even google cute dog names, but nothing looks like her. ”What do you think peanut? What should we call you?” You asks from her, and by accident you came up with the perfect name. Peanut.

You take her back to your arms, ”is your name Peanut?? Wooow thats so nice name isn’t it my girl?” You say to her. You rise from the floor and walk to the bedroom with her in your arms.

You lay her into your bed and lay with her, setting your phone against the pillows. You go to the facetime and choose Lando, the phone rings and you wait for a moment, ”lets see if your dad is going to answer,” tapping peanuts nose.

A face pops into your screen, ”well hello ladies,” Lando says also laying in his bed. You giggle and move the camera to face more to peanut, ”heyy love” you say. Lando smiles to you, ”i guess you found your friend?” He asks.

You giggle even more, ��yes i did. Lan this amazing i love you, thank you really.” You feel tears in your eyes, not because of being sad, but your so happy to finally always have a friend around. The dream you’ve always had, has finally come true.

Lando smiles, ”i knew you would love her. You came up it a name already?” He asks. You nod, ”love let me introdution you, Peanut,” you say waving her paw to Lando.

Lando laughs, ”you named her after a food y/n? Oh how i love you,” he says now giggling. You giggle with him, ”Lando,” you start. He strait himself and smiles at you. ”What my love?” He asks. You continue, ”thank you.”

”Anything, my love.” He answers.

[charliedawn]

Omg the vampires with a reader who had a petty fight with them so she won’t let them in the house now. Shes clearly having fun making them beg. Sitting there in the doorway taunting them and playing innocent.

(There has been a lot of controversy around the characters of Bert and Joan. I will make it clear right now. When I write about them, I will not associate them with the group they were a part of in the movie for obvious comfort reasons. With that said, enjoy. ☺️)

Mary

Mary looks the most annoyed—not because she is mad, but because she knows exactly what you are doing, and she cannot even pretend not to enjoy the power dynamic flip.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she hisses, tapping a perfectly manicured nail on the doorframe. “Just because I said you were being dramatic over your broken coffee mug—”

“Which was hand-painted by a person dear to me,” you cut in, mock-hurt.

She rolls her eyes. “You hand-painted it yourself.”

You huff. “And? I am dear to me.”

Mary crosses her arms, grinning despite herself. “You know, I could rip this door off its hinges.”

“But you won’t,” you sing-song.

Mary groans into her hands. “You are impossible.”

You smirk. “And you are still outside.”

She cannot help but smile and shake her head in disbelief. She knows you will eventually let her come in. It is only a matter of when.

Remmick

Remmick stands just beyond the threshold, his expression crestfallen—clearly not used to being denied anything. He is already on his knees with his hands joined—trying to convince you to let him come inside with pathetic puppy dog eyes.

“You’ve made your point, mo chuisle. Now let me in.”

You gasp, feigning shock. “Is that supposed to be a please? Because it sure didn’t sound like one.”

His jaw tightens. He’s ancient. Powerful. A telepathic vampire warlord. And yet he knows he has to ask nicely.

“…Please.”

You grin like a cat in sunbeams. “Hmmm. Maybe. Maybe if you say please with meaning this time.”

His eye twitches. He knows he needs to play humble here. He knows the sun will soon come out and he doesn’t intend to stay outside to greet it. The others behind him pretend not to smirk as he almost crawls. Everything to survive. Pride is not worth turning to ash over.

Bert and Joan

When you found those two, they were literally half dead. You saved their lives and since then they’ve been keeping you company. But, Joan and Bert decided to go hunting for a week without telling you. You were worried and when they finally come back…You decide that this is not okay and slam the door in their faces. Bert tries to convince you with sweet words. “You’re being hysterical, baby. C’mon. You know you love us. Let us in.”

Joan, echoing him, says, “It’s irrational behavior, sugar pie. Please. Do not let us stay outside.”

You slowly close the door just a crack. “One more condescending word and you two are gonna see if sunlight actually turns you to ash.”

Joan huffs. “We just want to talk!”

You grin. “You can talk. From out there.”

They both growl at you and you slowly flip them off before closing the door with a laugh.

Cornbread

Cornbread folds his arms at the door. “This is dumb. Lemme in.”

You smirk. “Nope.”

“Girl. I ain’t playin’. You’re playin’ with fire here.”

You shrug. “Maybe I’m cold.”

He scowls and warns you. “You’re gonna feel real bad when I burst into flames out here.”

You point to the overhang. “You’re in the shade.”

He scoffs. “Eventually, sun moves.”

You lean your head back lazily. “Then you better apologize before it does.”

He growls. “I hate you.”

You smile sweetly. “Aww. I love you too, Cornbread.”

He growls and kicks a garbage container nearby, but you aren’t giving in. Not this time.

Stack

Stack looks personally offended, hands shoved in his pockets, shifting awkwardly on the porch like he’s trying not to show how much he wants to come inside.

“So you’re just…gonna sit there and act like I’m not freezin’ my ass off out here?”

You tilt your head. “You’re dead. You don’t get cold.”

He scoffs. “That’s not the point, Y/N.”

You wink. “Exactly. This is about principle.”

He lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Alright, I see you. Petty queen behavior. I respect it. I hate it, but I respect it.”

Stack understands. He doesn’t like it but, he understands. You are as stubborn as him and this is why he likes you so much.

Bo Chow

He steps forward just enough to hit the invisible barrier and taps it with two fingers. “This is stupid.”

“Is it?” you hum. “I think of it more like…divine comedy.”

He huffs. “You are…petty.”

You nod cheerfully. “Extremely.”

He gestures at your tea. “What’s in the mug?”

“Your dignity.”

Bo growls softly in Chinese and mutters something about ‘unfairness,’ then sits on the edge of the porch to brood in silence.

You lean forward, voice dripping with mock concern: “Aw, Bo…Don’t make that face. You could just say you’re sorry.”

He looks you dead in the eye. “I’d rather boil in the sun.”

“Then sit tight,” you chirp, raising your mug. “Sunrise’s in five hours.”

Annie

She’s standing just outside your door, arms crossed, her expression somewhere between exasperated big sister and the woman who will hex your entire bloodline if you don’t knock it off. “Mm-mm. I know you ain’t playin’ with the dead like this.”

You blink at her sweetly from your seat on the threshold. “Me? No. I’m just observing vampire behavior in a controlled environment. Very scientific.”

Annie raises an eyebrow so high it might summon thunder. “You sittin’ there with a blanket and some tea like you ain’t got a heart. I taught you how to make rosemary oil and how to fix your limp with pine when you got hurt. And now you got me locked out like I’m a stranger?” She huffs, looking up at the stars like she’s praying for patience. “You keep on with this foolishness, I swear I’m gonna plant gopher dust right at this threshold.”

You gasp. “That’s aggressive!”

“And yet effective.” She steps closer, hits the barrier, and flattens her hand against the invisible line. “Baby, don’t make me beg. I got too much dignity and not enough night left.”

Your grin falters just a little. She notices.

“And my husband’s spirit is whisperin’ that you’re about five seconds from me callin’ down every ancestor I got.”

You take a long sip from your mug. “…Are they bringing snacks?”

She narrows her eyes at you. But you aren’t worried. You know she’ll forgive you.

…

Eventually, the entire group is standing outside your porch like a pack of disgruntled supernatural cats, grumbling, squinting at the sun, and begrudgingly trying to charm, bargain, and guilt you.

You, of course, are basking in your power. One slippered foot over the threshold. A snack in your lap. Absolutely glowing with glee.

They’re seething, simping, and suffering — and you’re making them work for your forgiveness. You’ve turned vampire weakness into a personal power trip, and honestly? Iconic behavior. 

[rosieswriting]

Wrapped up in you

Remus Lupin x reader

Summary: you look good and Remus is a love sick puppy

Note: pre established relationship. A bit of Jily English is not my first languaje!

Warnings: not +18 but suggestive content

Words: 1,9K

You looked good—really good. After what felt like ages of trying on clothes, nothing had felt quite right for the party at the Ravenclaw common room. But this… Merlin, you felt like the hottest person at Hogwarts

“Are you trying to kill poor Remus? Because with that outfit, you might actually do it” Lily teased, grinning as she looked you up and down. You rolled your eyes, though a satisfied smile played on your lips as you took one last look in the mirror.

Remus and you had started dating not so long ago, one month, two weeks and three days to be exactly. After years of crushing on your best friend, you had finally gotten together, thanks mostly to James and Lily who were desperate to have double dates with someone.

“You look good too, Lils” you replied smiling to the redhead “Pretty sure James is going to be drooling across the common room” you teased slightly.

She chuckled, giving you a playful nudge before opening the door. You followed her down the stairs to meet up with the Marauders in the common room, where the four of you had planned to head to the party together. As you descended, you could already hear their laughter echoing up the stairs. When you stepped into the common room, all four boys turned to look at you both.

“Lily Evans,” James announced, rising dramatically, “I vow to cherish you until the end of time because, somehow, you get even more beautiful every day.” He walked over to Lily, giving her a soft kiss.

Sirius came over with a teasing grin, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Didn’t know you could clean up this well.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, playfully nudging him off.

“I think you might’ve broken Moony” Peter said, smirking as he and Remus rose from the couch.

With a chuckle, you slipped out from Sirius’s arm and walked over to Remus, cheeks warming under his intense gaze. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again, like he couldn’t quite form words. You walked over, feeling the blush rise to your cheeks as he took in every detail—the way your hair framed your face, your lips, the curve of your smile. When you stopped in front of him, he wrapped his hands around your hips, giving a gentle squeeze as he took you in one more time.

“You’re…” he trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper as he finally managed to get out, “Merlin, you’re beautiful.”

Your eyes locked, and a shiver ran down your spine. “Thank you,” you murmured, a soft smile on your lips. The world faded for a moment, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in quiet admiration.

But Sirius, ever the charmer, had other plans. “Alright, lovebirds, are we going to crash this party, or are we just standing here staring all night?” he called, leaning against Peter with a grin.

You and Remus exchanged a chuckle, glancing at Lily and James, who were equally lost in each other. Everyone nodded, and with a shared laugh, you all began making your way out of the Gryffindor common room and toward Ravenclaw’s.

Peter and Sirius led the way, joking about how much they’d drink, while Lily and James giggled beside them, whispering in each other’s ears. You and Remus lingered behind, his hand in yours, his thumb lightly brushing over your knuckles. Every so often, you’d catch him looking over at you, his gaze warm and gentle.

“You’re quiet,” you murmured, giving his hand a light squeeze.

A flurry of thoughts raced through your mind. He’d called you beautiful, but… was he just being polite? Had he changed his mind about your outfit? Or maybe he had now realized that you actually looked bad? Had you tried to much? Was the outfit to much? Did he think you were too much? Did he-

Just as your thoughts started spiraling, he stopped, giving you a look so tender it silenced every worry. “You left me speechless, love,” he said softly, smiling in that way that made your heart stutter. “I still can’t believe we’re actually together.”

Your heart soared, and a wide smile spread across your face. This was what made you fall for him—those words, so simple yet so grounding.

“Well, you’d better believe it,” you said, a playful warmth in your tone. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“As if I’d ever let you,” he teased, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. As you stepped into the Ravenclaw common room, you realized you hadn’t even noticed the journey there, entirely wrapped up in each other.

The Ravenclaw common room was packed, wall to wall with seventh-years letting loose. Tables had been pushed to the corners, each stacked with bottles of Firewhisky, Butterbeer, and a random assortment of Muggle liquors someone must have smuggled in. The music pounded through the room, drawing most people to the makeshift dance floor in the center, while the more daring couples could be spotted snogging in shadowed corners. A few others leaned by the large windows, passing around enchanted cigarettes, smoke curling lazily into the air.

Sirius caught your eye from across the room, his brows raised in that mischievous way of his, and you knew exactly what he was going to say—and that you were going to say yes.

“Ready for some shots, my dearest friend?” he asked, grin wide and challenging.

“As always.” You gave him a mock salute and turned to Remus, who was watching the exchange with a knowing smile.

You wrapped your arms around Remus’ shoulders, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. There was a hint of something electric beneath it, that small thrill you always felt whenever you kissed him, no matter how many times you had. But you didn’t let it go too deep, not wanting to get lost in him when Sirius was already waiting.

“Careful, alright?” Remus murmured as you pulled back, his hand resting gently on your waist, his gaze warm but cautious.

“Yes,” you whispered with a reassuring smile, planting one last kiss on his cheek before turning back to Sirius. Remus chuckled softly, watching you go with a fond look.

The two of you weaved through the crowd, pausing here and there to greet friends and familiar faces, laughter and chatter filling the room around you. Ever since the start of the year, you and Sirius had developed a little ritual of sharing shots at every party. It had somehow strengthened your friendship, a unique bonding ritual that always left you laughing by the end of the night.

As you reached the table, Sirius uncorked a bottle of tequila with a flourish. “No jokes aside, you really do look stunning tonight,” he said, pouring two shots and giving you a genuine smile beneath all his teasing.

“Thanks, Siri,” you said, smiling back. “And I hate to boost your ego, but you’re looking pretty good yourself.”

“Oh, I know,” he smirked, flipping his hair back in a mock display of vanity. He handed you a shot glass, clinking it against yours before you both downed it in one swift gulp.

The tequila burned going down, and you both winced, making exaggerated faces of disgust. “Still awful, every time,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“Awful but worth it,” he shot back, pouring another round without waiting for you to protest. “To making terrible decisions we’ll laugh about tomorrow!”

“Cheers to that,” you replied, grinning as you took the second shot with him, already feeling the warmth of the alcohol spreading through you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Remus watching you with a soft smile, leaning casually against the wall with James and Lily. Every now and then, he’d shoot a glance your way, and you could feel the quiet affection in his gaze, even from across the room. Sirius followed your gaze and nudged your arm.

“You two are love-sick puppies” he teased, filling two cups with Butterbeer and passing one over to you with a smirk.

“We are not,” you said, shooting him a playful glare but gratefully accepting the drink. “We’re just… happy.”

Sirius chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Sure, happy. At least now the rest of us don’t have to suffer watching you two make eyes at each other from across the room, pretending it’s not obvious.”

You laughed, taking a sip. Sirius was right—after all the glances, lingering touches, and awkward silences, everyone else had caught on long before you had. You had probably been more transparent than you’d thought.

“Alright, alright, so maybe we were both a little clueless,” you admitted with a laugh. “But we’re here now, aren’t we?”

Sirius shrugged with a grin. “I suppose I’ll allow it. But really, you’ve got Remus so wrapped up, it’s a miracle he can think straight.”

You grinned and roll your eyes playfully. At some point both of you decided that one shot wasn’t enough. You left the cup on the table and start taking more shots.

 “Finally!” James called, reaching out to pull you both into the mix with the rest of the students. How many shots had you have? You were not sure, but the party was going great.

Sirius threw you a wink and headed to join Peter, who was challenging some Ravenclaws to a drinking game, while you spotted Remus near the edge of the dance floor, looking a little shy but grinning at you. You stepped up to him with a smile, holding out your hand.

“Care to dance?” you asked, warmth in your voice.

Remus took your hand, pulling you close as the music picked up, and you swayed together, everything around you blurring into background noise. With his arms wrapped around you, it felt like there was no one else there. He looked down, brushing a few strands of hair from your face, his gaze soft.

“Stop looking at me like that” you slurred out, already drunk.

“I can´t when you look this hot, love” he muttered pulling you even closer to him and smirking. He had been smoking, you could smell the cigarettes when he talked.

You didn’t know what came over you. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins, or the confidence that had settled in after a few shots. Or maybe, it was just the way Remus looked at you—like you were the only person in the room, and Merlin, he was the most beautiful boy you’d ever seen. Whatever it was, you closed the small gap between you, pulling him into a kiss. This time, neither of you held back.

His hands tightened on your waist, fingers digging in like he was anchoring himself to you. You ran your hands through his hair, tugging him closer as the kiss deepened, turning messy and desperate.But you liked it. You liked him, you loved him.

After a breathless moment, you both pulled back, eyes glazed and cheeks flushed. Remus looked down at you, his lips parted as he tried to catch his breath, a dazed grin spreading across his face.

“Your dorm or mine?” you asked, breathlessly, voice filled with barely-contained excitement. There was no way you were staying at this party now.

“Mine,” he said without hesitation, his voice thick with the same intensity, his hand already tugging you towards the door. Neither of you spared a glance at your friends, who were far too drunk to notice your swift exit..

Don’t get him wrong—Remus absolutely adored your outfit. But he’d adore it even more once it was on the floor of his dorm.

[mwahsol]

Jewelry with initials

Description: You and Paige are in a semi-private relationship, as she's doing an interview the interviewer notices a certain ring on Paige's hand. The ring on Paige's hand is the one you usually wear with your initials on it. When the interviewer asks Paige about the ring, she hints about your relationship.

“So Paige I couldn't help but notice that there's a certain ring on your hand that has an initial of someone very familiar.”

“I mean what can I say it's a nice ring.”

‘Does the ring belong to a specific teammate that may or may not wear the number 12?’

‘Yo not too much, but yeah it's her ring. I wanted to bring a little something of hers with me because she couldn't come with me so it'll do for now.”

“Aww that's so cute seeing your close bond.”

After hearing that Paige can feel her face heating up and the smirk she's been trying to hide is slipping through as she answers, “Yeah for sure, but imma see her in a week so when she gets here she can give me my chain back.”

As soon as those words slipped out of her mouth the interviewer had to get all the information she could, “Oh she has something of yours too? Who's idea was it to swap items so you both could have something?”

She couldn’t help but chuckle remembering how she was almost ready to beg you to just come to Seattle with her, being too impatient to wait a bit to hold you again.

“Baby I’m going to see you in probably less than a week. I just need to visit my mom for a bit.” Even though she understands she can't help but be clingy towards you, I mean how could she not she follows you around like a puppy most of the time not ever wanting to be too far from you. “I know mama I’m just gonna miss you.” As you see Paige pouting on your bed you can't help but walk up to her, you settle in between her thighs and hug her around her shoulders while she wraps her arms around your waist and buries her head in your chest. To make her feel a little better you come up with a cute small idea, “How about I give you something of mine that you can wear so in a way I’ll be there hm? How does that sound love?’ Her head instantly shoots up so you can see the excitement in her eyes making you giggle a little. “Really? Can I pick it out?” She's too cute, “Of course you can.”

“Ok but if I get something of yours then you have to wear something of mine.’ Even though that wasn't part of your original plan you couldn't help but blush at the fact that she wants you to have something so you won't miss her too much. “I wouldn't be opposed to that”

As she gets up and looks through your jewelry box she sees the ring you wear almost all the time, except when you're playing or at practice, “Can I get this one babe?’ You knew how the public knew that ring was specifically yours. It had your initials on it and you know how much the public loves Paige, you know they're more than likely to ask her about it if they notice, and if they don't then all of the fans will. “Are you sure P? I don't want to make you comfortable if they start asking questions about it,” her heart swells up with adoration seeing how much you care and think about her first. “I’m sure, private not secret remember. I’d be happy if they asked me about you. I won't get into too much detail obviously but I can drop a few hints here and there but only if you're comfortable with it mama.” God, she knows how to make you blush, as you look down a giggle a little getting a bit shy you say, “Of course, I am, just wanted to make sure with you first.”

Paige can't help but admire how even after almost two years she still has this effect on you. “Ok, since I got your ring, how do you feel about wearing my gold chain with my initial on it so we kinda match.” You can see her little smirk knowing how much you love that necklace and can't help but say yes to getting the opportunity to wear it again. “Sounds perfect.”

“Nah it was hers but I added a little but that's it,” the interviewer and soon the audience will be able to see how giddy she was just to talk about you.

“Alright Paige, thank you for talking with us. Good luck and hopefully you see y/n soon,” she couldn't help but laugh towards the ending seeing how Paige was so happy just to hear your name.

“Ay thank you, have a good rest of your day.”

What Paige didn't notice is that while she was being asked about you and remembering the day you traded pieces, she was playing with your ring and smiling so hard that people would rewatch the interview and repost it everywhere talking about how your guy's relationship was definitely more than platonic.

I'm slowly releasing things please bare with me y'all, law is kicking my ass and my job is NOT helping. I promise I'm trying to rerelease my old work and somewhat write new ones. LOVE YALL THO <3

Kiss the sun 🌞

[lynnuvo]

Puppy Love ( ૮ ˶ˆ ﻌ ˆ˶ ა )

Characters: Monoma Neito x Female (Y/N)

How you managed to grow attracted to the loud, arrogant mascot of Class 1B is a mystery to your peers. This is so to even yourself, though you chalked it up to a "curiosity killed the cat" scenario. Over the course of your first three weeks of being in UA’s Class 1B, you decided to be the annoying cat poking at his side. It was hard to not pay attention to him, so why not make it fun?

He was a bit irritated at first. You were pretty sure he had some underlying insecurity because every time you mentioned him being scared of being outshone by Class 1A, he'd get into a hissy fit. You stopped talking about this as much when Kendo Itsuka indirectly hinted it'd be best to, but that didn't stop your other antics. You'd leave sticky notes of hilarious drawings about him on his desk, in his backpack, and in his shoe locker. You'd follow him around like a lost puppy in the building--sometimes to the bathroom door on accident. You'd pester him with questions too. There's been several occasions you asked about his favorite snacks or other items and got just as much the opposite as possible.

A few classmates joked that you were bullying him, but it wouldn't really be bullying if Monoma Neito eventually learned to save a seat for you in the cafeteria or keep the gifts you gave him despite not liking them, right? Would he have hated you if he'd ask to walk you home back before the dorms were built, chiding that someone as weak as you needed someone as strong as him? Did he really want you to stop pestering him if he sought out for you in the girl's section of the dorm watching TV in the living room for two hours? It was unusual you weren’t already a trumpet in his ear by that time, after all.

"What are you doing here?" Tokage Setsuna questioned when she exited her room to see Monoma walking down the hall in her direction. "You know the boys' section is on the other side, right?"

Monoma startled but settled his composure quick. "Yes, I know. I'm just looking for something. I seem to have lost it."

"So you're looking for it here?"

"Well, I haven't found it anywhere else yet. Perhaps someone picked it up and dropped it."

"What are you looking for?"

"Uh—a decorated blue hair pin. It's small but fits well with one of my polos."

"You wear hair pins?"

He scoffed. "Hair pins are an accessory not just for girls. It could be that someone on this side picked it up, thought it was cute, and kept it."

"Sure...." Tokage leaned her back against her door and crossed her arms. A smirk crept onto her face. "You sure you didn't lose anything else? Maybe someone with (your hair color) hair?"

"I'm sure."

"Well then, I'll help you look for this pin."

"Oh! No need!" Monoma replied, waving his hands in front of his chest. "I think I can find it on my own. Even if I don't find it, I can easily buy another one later."

Tokage's smirk grew into a wide grin. "Come on, it's better to search with two pairs of eyes instead of one!"

"Really, thank you, but—!”

"Monoma-kun?"

The two turned to a door further down the hall that just opened. Out came you in your pajamas, hair a bit of an entangled mess. A yawn escaped your lips. "Do we have class today?"

"No, we don't. And what are you doing just now getting out of bed?!" He hurried over to you and brushed some hairs from your face. "It's 3 in the afternoon, for goodness' sake!"

You furrowed your brows. "'m sorry. I slept in."

Tokage watched him chide you for wasting the morning away. It was comical how both of you denied romantic feelings for each other, and yet here you two were acting like a relationship was in progress. Her stomach suddenly growled. She pushed herself off her door. "I'm gonna get some lunch. Good luck. (Y/N)-chan, Monoma said he lost a blue hairpin. Why don't you help him find it? See you guys!"

After bidding Tokage goodbye, you looked up at the blond boy. "You wear hair pins?"

"Well—sometimes! Not recently, just—uh—on occasion. But no matter! I can buy another one some other time!" Monoma bumped your shoulder, urging you forward. "Hurry and get ready for the day. I'm so awfully bored."

You chuckled. "Aww, you missed me?"

"As if!"

You and Monoma's dynamic was fun and rather straightforward at first—an enemies to friends type of dynamic. Most of the class could see through the teasing that you two cared about each other and enjoyed each other's company. Overtime, however, you found yourself growing frustrated with the boy. Weeks of being by his side made your heart grow fond of him, but he didn't state anything of the same effect your companionship had on him. When you teased that he loved you or missed you, he shut it down fast. Although not out of character, it began to hurt you.

After an in-depth confession to Kendo in her room (and a small moment of you crying on her shoulder), she messaged you the next day to go on hangouts with her after school every other day with Hiryu Rin. She mentioned in the text conversation that she believes some time away from Monoma might help. You agreed.

You and Rin were good friends, but you two never hung out or talked outside of classes and when you both happened to be in the same vicinity. The first day all three of you hung out started a little awkward, but it became an entertaining pasttime quick. You three hung out at an arcade, at coffee shops, in the gym training, and even on runs to the grocery store. When you three didn't feel like going outside, you guys would sit on the floor in front of the TV and parallel play.

When the dorms were established, Monoma walked by your side with the rest of class to the dorms. With you on hangouts immediately after school now, he bid you, Kendo, and Rin a simple farewell and continued chatting with the rest of your classmates. A pang hit your heart upon his nonchalant goodbye, but you shoved it down. Once the three of you returned, you'd hangout with him and a few others in the dorm after settling down.

So imagine your surprise when a knock sounded on your door two hours after you returned from another fun hangout with Kendo and Rin. You hadn't been expecting anyone since you planned on resting in that day, so you were especially not expecting Monoma to be standing there when you popped the door open a tad.

He looked at you sternly. "Can we talk?"

"Oh—uh—sure," you replied, caught off guard by his unusual facial expression. You welcomed him inside and gestured for him to sit on your desk's chair, which he did so as you shut the door and sat on your bed. Your fingers fiddled with the blanket beneath you. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Do you like Rin?"

Your shrimp posture was no longer as you shot up. "What?! No! I mean, he's a great friend, but I haven't thought about...like...dating him yet."

"Yet?"

"I mean it like I didn't consider it!"

He pulled out his phone, opened a text message thread, clicked on an image to expand it, and showed it to you. "What's this?"

It was a selfie Kendo took of you, Rin, and her on a grocery store run. The angle was pointed down at the group, with only Kendo's eyes coming into frame while she held the phone up. Not realizing she was taking a selfie until the picture was taken, you and Rin stood side by side picking avocados. You had to admit the side profile of you and Rin's laugh was kind of adorable, but you were pulled from reminiscing that day by Monoma clearing his throat.

You backed away from the phone. "This happened last week. Why are you bringing it up?"

"You and Rin look awfully close." He put his phone away and crossed his arms. Contrary to the indication of his body language, his face softened as well as his tone. "You know, if you like Rin, you can tell me. I just want to know."

"Why?"

"Well, since we both hangout a lot, I wouldn't want to interfere with your time with him. Maybe you two could—I don't know—I could offer him my seat in class from now on so you two can get to talk more."

You shook your head. "It's fine, really! Me and Rin can talk after class."

He got up from your chair and laughed, rolling his eyes. "Then you two can talk during class as well. A desk is just a desk, after all. I'll tell him to switch seats with me after dinner."

Once he started heading for the door, you jumped from your bed and snatched his wrist, trying to pull him back. "Monoma, stop! It's okay, really! I don't mind!"

He wretched his wrist free only for you to grab it again. "And I don't mind playing matchmaker for my dear friends, believe me."

"Stop! Please don't!"

"I like sitting with you! Trust me, it's okay!"

"Yes, but it'd be a good idea to help you with your love ordeal."

Escaping your grasp once more, his hand fell on the door handle and his shoulder touched the door. In a last ditch effort, you threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him back in. "I LIKE YOU! STOP!"

And that he did.

Time skipped a beat before he backed away from the door, turning wide-eyed to look at you. Tears rested on your waterline. After darting his eyes around the room, Monoma hurriedly guided you to your bed again. "I'm so sorry, please don't cry."

"I like you! I've been liking you!" you whined as you clung onto Monoma's shirt despite him trying to lay you down. He gave up and embraced your body in one hand while patting your back with the other. You buried your face in his neck. "I told you I like you!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you liked me so much." He shushed you for a while before adding, "I shouldn't have questioned you this way. I'm so sorry. Please don't cry, (Y/N)-chan."

"I already am..."

"Oh. Right."

Needless to say, Monoma was not the best source of comfort. But he did his best. Once your breathing calmed down, he sat behind you and rested you against his body. You couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing you cry, so you were grateful when he passed you a tissue. After wiping your face and tossing the tissue in the trash can, you leaned your head against his chest. His heart raced; you could feel it.

Monoma’s hands wrapped around both of yours. “I’m so sorry.”

Heat rushed to your face at the sight of your hands. A headache began to form in the back of your head. “It’s okay. I know you want to help me, but I really do like you. I have for a while.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you didn’t look like you liked me back.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Um. You don’t really do anything romantic. Sure, we hang out a lot, but it just feels like hangouts as friends. Well, it did to me until I caught feelings, but you know what I mean. I just—I didn’t know what to do about these feelings.”

You raised your head and finally looked at guilty expression on his face. The question of whether he liked you back caught in your throat, but the twitches in his lips as he struggled to find the words to speak left a sinking feeling in your gut.

At last, he let out a sigh and squeezed you in an embrace. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. Thank you for—uh—for thinking of me so, but I need to figure out how to go about this. Can you give me some time to respond properly?”

You squeezed him back. “Yes, of course.”

After sitting in your room for a good five minutes doing nothing but holding each other, Monoma exclaimed he needed to help prepare dinner downstairs and excused himself. You cursed yourself in your head for confessing in such a way. But there was no turning back now.

At dinner, you both sat next to each other as normal, but conversation was awkward, to say the least. Neither of you could properly look the other in the eye despite briefly talking about subjects unrelated to the incident. For most of the meal, you both opted to talk to other peers. Things were not so different in class. Despite sitting beside each other, you two spoke little. You couldn’t bring yourself to tease him after the fool you made of yourself, and it felt like Monoma was distancing himself despite the fact that he still sat next to you at lunch and walked beside you on the way to the dorms.

Kendo Itsuka messaged you only three days later, questioning what on earth happened. You told her about the incident, and the next thing you knew, Kendo barged into your room professing apology after apology. She explained that although she did want to give you space from Monoma, another purpose of the hangouts with her, you, and Rin was to make Monoma jealous. She’d gotten the idea from movies but hadn't expected this outcome. You forgave her and thanked her for her efforts. After all, you could see the potential. It was unfortunate Monoma was not like the guys in her movies.

A week passed. The awkward silence was getting unbearable. You really wished you’d demanded a deadline for his consideration.

For once, your bedroom felt suffocating, so while other students opted for the privacy of their rooms, you sat on the couch watching a drama on a very casual day. You were pretty bored until footsteps sounded behind you. You turned your head to see Monoma. You moved your legs off the couch and watched as he sat beside you.

He nodded. “Hey.”

“Uh—hi.”

You both faced the TV. After a week of this, all you two could muster was a simple greeting? You internally cringed. It was enough to suffer through silence with others around. Why would he come down just for this?

You soon found out why as you felt something on your hand—that something turning out to be Monoma’s hand. Your heart pounded faster. “What are you doing?”

He turned to you and sputtered, “I—um—nothing.”

Before he could remove his hand, you snatched it and held it firmly. His admittedly cute, nervous face fueled your nearly dead desire to tease him. “Monoma-kun, there’s no way you could have accidentally done that.”

“Well—I—!” He pursed his lips then shook his head. “I’m not used to this.”

“We’ve never held hands before.”

“I mean romance, stupid!” He scowled, lifting your conjoined hands and shaking it as if it was an obvious clue in a murder mystery. “I tell you I need to think it over. Then, I am holding your hand! What do you think that means?!”

Your eyes widened. “You…like me?”

“Come on! I’m leaving.”

Before he could get up, you lurched forward and took a hold of his arm. “Monoma-kun, no! You have to say it! Tell me if it’s a yes or no. Please?”

After a moment of continuing to look away, he finally turned to face you again with furrowed brows. “I like you. I have also been for a while now.”

“AWW, YOU LOVEEE ME?”

“I’M LEAVING!”

“NO! I’M JUST KIDDING!”

Joy couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt. Apparently so didn’t it describe Monoma’s feelings because despite numerous statements of saying he’d leave, he buried himself further into your company until he ended up lying with his head in your lap, still holding your hand.

You still needed to figure out whether you two were going to officially date right after this, but that can wait. Only this time, you were going to make sure he compensated for the overthinking your situation has caused.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

ring camera chronicles - Nico Hischier

Word Count - 1700

Requested - Yes

Author's Note - Even if someone requests it I think this will be my last ring camera type fic. I am someone who hates reusing ideas for different players, and it was really hard to come up with 7 original ideas for Nico. But anyway enjoy and thank you for reading.

Warnings - none

Summary - Seven times that Nico's and your ring camera caught cute 'mundane' moments between you both.

Masterlist

Being Nico’s girlfriend naturally meant that you sort of organized lunches with the other wags and tried to keep up to date with them. At first you hated it because you weren’t an influencer, you had a normal job and being a planner wasn’t part of the job. But after a while you did become close friends with a few of the girls including Jack’s girlfriend. Who was now sitting across from you as she updated all of you on her latest mess with having a ring camera. All about how she didn’t want Jack to catch her having all these packages so you went to sneak them in, and got Nico and Luke to help her. Only to find out in the moment that she actually used Jack’s card and he really didn’t seem to care. The entire table was crying in laughter, especially when you mentioned that Nico was still a little salty about it 2 weeks later. Luke’s girlfriend went on to say how much she loves having her ring and how it catches so many cute mundane moments that people tend to forget about, plus it was fun to mess with her boyfriend. Deciding in that moment that you also wanted a ring doorbell to be able to mess with Nico, all you had to do was convince Nico. 

Once you got home you shyly mentioned to Nico, “ hey Neeks I was thinking why don’t we get a ring camera?” He doesn’t even look up from playing with your puppy and says “okay.” 

“Wait really?” The shock is clear in your voice. 

Still playing tug-a-war with the rope toy and currently losing, he answers “ yeah if you want plus it makes sense I mean I have one at home for our other flat it makes sense to have one for here. Especially since we are out of the country for 3 months a year.” 

“Wait, there is a camera for your place in Swittsland?” Generally shocked that you somehow didn’t know this information. 

“Yes. Did you think I didn’t have cameras if I only lived there 3 months a year? Anyway I’ll order some tomorrow.” As he gets up, and kisses you on the head before he goes to the bedroom to get ready for the gym, leaving a hyper puppy who wants to play and a shocked girlfriend behind. 

1.) One last thing

It’s something neither you nor Nico even realized that you did. But when it came to those roadies that he would leave the apartment for, rather than you drive him to the airport. Somehow whether it was 5 in the morning or 5 in the afternoon, you always would run out the apartment and almost tackle him for one last hug before he would leave. Snuggling your head into his chest. He would snuggle into the crown of your neck and you would whisper something about having safe travels and good luck. It didn’t matter if the roadie was for a weekend or two weeks you always ran out of the apartment calling after Nico saying “one last thing” before you tackled him for your hug. Once you got a ring camera you noticed and you asked your videographer friend to edit all the clips together so you and Nico could keep it and watch it back.

2.) I”ll always got you

“Baby, are you sure you wanna wear those shoes?” Nico asks as you both get ready to leave to meet the rest of the team and their significant others done the street at the local bar. 

“Yeah, why aren’t they cute?” as you check your outfit one last time doing a twirl in the mirror that’s in your little makeshift foyer of your apartment. 

“I’m not saying your new shoes aren’t cute, they just aren’t broken in and I don’t want your feet to hurt later.” He admits coming and wrapping his arms around you. 

“But their sneakers.” you whine. 

“Yes sneakers meant for fashion” he argues. 

“Says the man who wears Jordans when he goes hiking.” To which he gives you a knowing look and you don’t want to get into the fact he’s “built differently as a European.” Even if it’s 100 percent true because that evaluation ain’t meant for the weak even in the cities. 

“I’ll be fine.” you whisper as you both exit the apartment. He jokingly looks at the ring camera and says “you got that right she will be fine.” 

Now a few hours later, the ring camera picks up you guys coming home and you were in fact being carried by Nico at this point. A very sweaty and out of breath Nico. In your tipsy state all you could do is laugh as you attempted to unlock the door, at Nico literally hands on knees trying to catch his breath. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be a professional athletic Neeks.” 

“Professional athlete does not mean I should carry a very tipsy girl who wouldn’t stop shifting her weight almost a whole kilometer home and not be out of breath.” he counters and all you can do is chuckle finally getting the door unlocked. Nico looks directly at the camera and says “I just wanna state for the people, that she was in fact NOT FINE with those shoes.” 

“Neeks what people only we have access to the footage.” you giggle.

He rolls his eyes and although you’re not sure what he said you know he cursed at you in Swiss German under his breath as you both stumbled into your apartment.

3.) Baby it’s here!

Nico came up from the mailroom with a giant package in his hands. He's so excited he rings the doorbell even though he knows your at work because the care package finally arrived. 

“BABY IT’S HERE!” not caring how loud he sounded to his neighbors. “Ooo I am so excited I know she set some of my favorite Swiss chocolate and other candy too.” Nico had the biggest smile on his face, you swear when you watched it back on your break he looked more excited then a toddler waking up on Christmas morning to see what Santa left him. 

Deciding to text him to tell him not to eat too much before dinner even though you know there is really no point because, when it came to candy from home and Nico he will always eat as much as his sister is willing to send in one sitting

4.) Are you alright?

Nico gets a notification while he is away on a roadie for “movement in front of camera.” Since he was already dressed and ready for practice he decided to check the notification. He noticed it was you coming home at an earlier time than normal and you didn’t look good. Immediately he’s Facetiming you in the locker room, making sure you have everything you need and even doing a Doordash CVS order to your apartment with a bunch of different flavors of gatorade and Mucinex. Nico has his full pout because he is very worried about his girlfriend who is getting sick and the fact that he is 2000 miles away. 

5.) You didn’t see that

 After being exhausted after a long day of work and running a bunch of errands. The last thing you wanted to do was make multiple trips down the elevator to the parking garage to get all the groceries, your work bag, your lunch box and purse. Of course as soon as you pass the mailroom you see that you received a few Amazon packages. Again deciding one trip was better than multiple you somehow balance the boxes and make your way to the elevator. But of course as soon as you get to the front door as you're trying to reach for your keys to unlock the door everything tumbles. Without even thinking you deadpan to the camera   “ you didn’t see that.” But then you wince because of course you hear Nico’s loud laugh through the ring microphone. Of course in that exact moment he decided to check to make sure you got home okay since he knows you have anxiety driving at night when the roads are icy. 

6.) Shhhh will you some people are sleeping!

After coming home around 2 AM due to a delayed plane because of bad weather he finally comes home from his weekend roadie. Of course the ring camera starts to record as soon as it detects motion, recording how slow Nico is being trying to sneak into the apartment. But of course he somehow forgot about your 10 month Bernese Mountain puppy who starts barking at the top of his lungs. Running to attack Nico because he was so happy that “dad was home.” Of course the camera caught everything including Nico cursing in German for his failed attempts. But then he’s picking up your very big puppy trying to get him to quiet down because “hey don’t you know its 2 AM, your mama trying to sleep bubs.” . The next morning when you see a new notification on your phone from ring and you see Nico trying his hardest to be quiet you can’t help but chuckle and your chest swell a little at how sweet Nico was trying to be and how adorable he always is with your guys puppy. 

7.) Give me my puppy update

Everyday when he’s away on a roadie he demands to see an update on how much your little 20 lb Bernese Mountain puppy has grown on his way back in from his morning walk. He loves it when he’s actually able to catch the update in real time and talking through the camera catching how confused and excited the little puppy is because he hears dad’s voice but doesn’t see him. After a while attempting to pick up the very big puppy becomes such a struggle. It becomes Nico’s favorite part of his day watching you try to pick up the little rascal because he really only likes it when Nico picks him up. He loves hearing you complain to the dog that you are picking him up to show him to Nico. But every single time all the puppy does is schrick in refusal and you huff finally giving up. After 3 days in a row when your dog was around 10 months of that same pattern you told Nico that he’s going to have to settle on videos because fighting this dog to participate everyday in your daily vlogs was taking longer than it actually was to stand in front of the doorbell.

[eden031]

First meetings

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Pairing: Jack Abbot x intern!female!reader

Warnings: angst, death, crack (a patient has a cola bottle in his rectum), Jack Abbot using dark humor to cope, mentions of porn (like once), some fluff at the end, patients being nosy, bad innuendo, the betting pool in the Pitt is going wild, medical inaccuracies, maybe a bit cringe worthy at some points (probably)

Summary: When an uneventful shift filled with bad humor and overheard conversations turns into something more tragic Jack makes sure that his intern doesn‘t break.

A/N: Listen people, I don‘t know what possessed me when I wrote this, it felt like a fever dream but we are moving in the right direction, I think. Please forgive me for the heavy angst in the end of this chapter, the beginning is very cracky and I honestly don‘t know why I wrote it, but it was fun to write and I had a good laugh while writing it sooo… Also this was barely proof read because I had to rewrite it like ten times.

“Alright, fifty bucks that they already fucked,” Ellis sounded way too enthusiastic about this for her to not stop and listen in on the conversation. Halting in the hallway just short of the door to the break room she continued to listen, an IPad for charting in hand.

“You seriously think so?” Olsen sounded mildly astonished at the high bet or maybe depending on who they were talking about the pairing and circumstance. Bets on the staff's personal life were common and she always found them to be rather interesting, already having won over five hundred dollars because she had bet on Nisa dating one of the day shift security guards for over two months.

“Yeah,” Ellis sounded annoyed, “You don’t know shit Olsen, you are always sick for the saucy moments.” Ellis snorted. Suppressing a giggle of her own she leaned against the wall, not wanting to disturb the two residents in their apparently heated discussion.

For a moment she looked around, trying to see if anyone was seeing that she was just standing in front of the break room being nosy. Luckily it was a quiet night and not that many people were running around.

It was fun listening in on these kinds of conversations then to guess who this was about. Right now she was not sure, thinking that maybe it could be about someone from day shift, she was not sure who else they would currently be betting on.

“I mean…” Olsen trailed off for a moment, like he was trying to prove that he still caught some interesting interactions, “I saw him basically hovering over her at some point,” he sounded mildly defeated.

“Yeah, that's why you bet that they knew each other before. I was there for the damn REBOA and had to witness an interaction that basically felt like some weird medical kink soft porn.” Ellis sounded so proud of placing her bet, for a moment she frowned. The only REBOA that had been placed in the last few weeks had been by her. Her brows furrowed, they were not talking about her, at least she hoped not.

“Jesus,” Olsen groaned. A pause, some clinking, probably mugs being shuffled around.

“Yeah, and he is totally looking at her boobs every time she comes up to talk to him. And checking out her ass every time she walks away.” Ellis’ voice was slightly more quiet this time as she spoke. “Never thought I would see Abbot looking at someone like a kicked puppy, but here we are,” a heavy sigh came from Ellis.

An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach, just hoping that they were not talking about her and Abbot, because if they were she would actually start questioning her own sanity. She had been so careful, trying to make sure that no one realised how badly the man affected her.

“But she is an intern, when do you propose they even met?” Olsen sounded almost offended as he spoke.

Deciding that she did not want to hear the rest of the conversation she started heading towards the nurses’ station again, the IPad clutched tightly against her chest. Her face felt hot as she placed it back on the rack, staring up at the board, looking for something she might actually be able to handle on her own for the moment. Humming softly she tapped her foot as she scanned the board, as her eyes found a patient with her name written next to it a pleased sigh escaped her lips.

Rubbing her forehead she glanced over to the room, Josie leaving it with a small smirk on her lips, head shaking. Grabbing a pair of gloves she started heading in the direction of the older nurse.

“Josie!” she called out, jogging towards the nurse. A smile on her face she nodded towards the room the patient was in.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” she grinned slightly as she saw the gloves in her hands.

“Did you get everything for Mr. Hill ready?” she asked as she nodded towards the room of the patient she had just assumed to be Mr. Hill.

“Yes,” she laughed, shaking her head, “If you are curious: this time it was a cola bottle,” Josie still shook her head slightly.

“I am assuming he fell on it while changing?” she asked carefully, having to suppress a laugh as she saw Josie roll her eyes.

“Of course he did, but at least he is in a good mood,” Josie shrugged, “At least in a better mood than most patients that come in during this hour,” she sighed, “I already gave him a low dose of muscle relaxant and set up everything you need to get that bottle out, just call me if you need any help,” the older nurse gently patted her on the shoulder.

“You are an angel,” she smiled as she walked over to the room, pressing open the glass door, then stepping behind the curtain. Mr. Hill was an elderly man, in his seventies, he was a widower, one of their regular patients in the ED at night and truly an angel. Even during a horrible shift Mr. Hill was able to put a smile on the faces of the people that treated him.

“Well good evening Mr. Hill,” she smiled as she greeted the man, a blanket was placed over his lower body and a bright smile already on his face.

“Good evening, darlin’! And how many more times do I have to tell you to call me Richard?” He gave her a glance that made her laugh, shaking her head she put on the gloves. Usually when she started working with a patient the events that had occurred previously washed from her mind and she was completely focused, though right now it felt like her mind was overshadowed by the conversation between Ellis and Olsen.

“Mind if I take a quick look?” she asked, pointing at the blanket, Mr. Hill laughed and nodded, already knowing the procedure. He propped up his legs, quickly she glanced under the blanket nodding slightly she put the blanket back down.

“Looks like it’s wedged in there pretty good,” she gave him a scolding look, she was not sure how many times they had already given him the talk of not putting certain objects in certain places. However, apparently he was not really listening to what they were telling him.

“Yes…” he trailed off for a moment while she grabbed the ultrasound to make sure that there was no internal bleeding.

“Are you alright darlin’?” He looked mildly concerned as she started prepping everything for the ultrasound.

“Of course, Mr. Hill,” she gave him a small smile, “Why wouldn’t I be?” she laughed putting some of the jelly on his belly, sitting down to perform the ultrasound. It startled her that he had realised that she was still a bit preoccupied with the conversation she had overheard.

“Well, I don’t know, maybe it has something to do with that pretty doctor of yours?” he wiggled his eyebrows at her. She only raised hers at that, moving the ultrasound over his belly while she looked at the screen.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Mr. Hill,” she laughed softly as she continued to check his abdomen. The issue with Mr. Hill was that for a man his age the man was perceptive, always seeing everything and almost being as informed on the gossip of the ED as Perlah and Princess.

“You know who I am talking about,” he wiggled his brow again, “I am old, not blind, I can see the way you look at the man,”

That made her pause in her movements, feeling heat rising to her neck and face. She tried to stay focused on the task at hand, finally having finished from all angles she started wiping away the jelly from the older man’s belly.

“I still don’t know what you are talking about, Mr. Hill,” she gave him a breathy laugh. “Good news is that I can’t see any bleeding right now, so you know the drill, bottle out, wait another hour or so, check for bleeding again, wait for the muscle relaxant to wear off and then you are free to go” she explained, trying to shift the topic of conversation away from the man in question.

As she was preparing to lube up the bottle the door opened and she heard a familiar pattern of footfalls approaching from behind her.

“Everything alright in here?” Abbot spoke in a gentle tone, she could feel him standing behind her, the warmth of his body hitting her back, though she knew he was not touching her. Glancing over her shoulder she felt her throat constrict slightly as she realised how close he actually was. He was hovering over her shoulder, looking at the bottle of lube in her hands.

“Splendid, Dr. Abbot.” A big grin came to the face of Mr. Hill. She sighed, shaking her head as she lifted the blanket slightly. Swallowing harshly she grabbed one of the tools and began distributing the lube around the cola bottle, thanks to the muscle relaxant this should be done fairly quickly.

“And your assessment?” Abbot asked, she could feel his burning gaze on her as she continued to work.

“Should be done in good time, though this time around I would wait a bit longer with the discharge since the cola bottle is not the usual caliber of…” she paused, knowing that theoretically everyone knew what Mr. Hill was up to with these things, but he never actually admitted to it. “Well, objects he falls on,” she cleared her throat. Continuing to distribute the lube around the bottle.

“Alright, Mr. Hill, I am leaving you in her capable hands,” Abbot sounded mildly amused, she heard him turn around.

“I bet you know best, Dr. Abbot” Mr. Hill sounded like he was teasing Abbot, she let out a choking sound as Abbot’s steps halted for a brief moment, before they continued. As she heard the door close she shook her head.

“You are impossible, Mr. Hill,” she shook her head, carefully grabbing the part of the bottle that was luckily still on the outside. She gave him a look, “You know the drill.” she spoke, feeling the bottle move slightly, she pulled on it carefully, trying to apply too much stress.

“I simply told him that he knows what’s best,” he winked at her, speaking in a break from the gentle pushes. She held onto the bottle, they had already been able to get it over the enlargement. It would only be a bit more before it would be easier again.

“You know very well what you did there,” she gave him an annoyed glare. Within the next few moments the bottle was freed and she placed it on the tray.

“Alright, Mr. Hill, how are you feeling?” she asked as she started taking off the gloves, scooting backwards.

“Much better, thank you, dear,” he gave her a small smile. As she got up from the chair she gave him a smile.

“A nurse will be in to check on you soon, in an hour I will do another ultrasound to make sure that there is no bleeding.” she explained. “Also if you feel any lightheadedness or discomfort press the call button so someone can come and check on you, alright?”

“Yes, yes, I know how this works,” he gave her a smile as she left the room, shaking her head as she headed back to central. Mr. Hill had his nose up in everyones business, he knew everything and everyone, sometimes she wondered who his inside source on the hot ED gossip was, usually she would say it was one of the nurses, but it could really be anyone, especially of the night shift where everyone was kept awake by gossip, coffee and spite.

“So,” Josie slipped up beside her, the older nurse looking curious, “How did everything go with Mr. Hill?” she asked.

“Everything went well. I think the man should stop with these shenanigans, but otherwise I think he should be fine. There was no bleeding when I checked and there was also no blood on the bottle, so I just hope that he will be okay.” she sighed. “And he of course has his nose in everybody’s business,” she sighed, shaking her head as she rubbed her face.

“Ahh” Josie laughed slightly, “While on the topic of being in everybody’s business, I know it is none of mine, but mind telling me why Tommy’s been in such a good mood lately?” leaning against the counter Josie grinned slightly.

A snort left her lips as she nodded, a small smirk growing on her lips.

“Yeah, cause he is getting laid,” she answered, a loud clicking sound came from behind her, though she did not turn around, probably just something that had fallen over.

“Seriously?” Josie raised her brow, “Who is the lucky lady? Or lucky lad?” She continued to pry.

“Yeah, seriously. Tommy finally made a move on Maise, I felt like the pining was going to crush me every time I walked into a room with the two of them.” she shuddered lightly, shaking her head. A small smile on her lips as she thought about the fact that her friends were really happy together. Josie snorted slightly as she shook her head.

“While talking about pining…” before Josie was able to finish her question Bridgit shouted from the middle of the nurses’ station.

“We got an incoming hit and run victim, ETA 3 minutes,” her voice carried through the ED.

“Shit,” she muttered as she grabbed a pair of gloves from one of the boxes, Abbot walked past her, already heading for trauma 1.

“Come on!” he half turned as she hurried along with him, grabbing disposable gowns from one of the dispensers she put them on, he tied her gown, she tied his, Olsen also joined them, already wearing his as well. Turning slightly she saw a bunch of nurses getting trauma 1 ready for the incoming patient. They headed outside to the ambulance bay, the patient being loaded off the ambulance as they arrived, she was already intubated, they were bagging her. A young woman, about her age, hair matted from the blood, makeup smeared as they pushed her inside. The EMT rattled off data as they placed her on the gurney in the trauma bay.

Pulling out a light pen she checked the pupil again, the EMT had reported that pupils had been reactive right after arrival, though they were sluggish.

“Extremely delayed pupil reaction,” she reported as she glanced over at the monitor, the blood pressure of the young woman was dropping rapidly.

“Shit,” Olsen muttered as he squeezed some of the jelly on the abdomen of the young woman, moving the ultrasound over her stomach. She put on the stethoscope, listening to the woman’s lungs.

“Good breath sounds on her right side, left almost no breath sounds,” she reported as she pulled off the stethoscope. Olsen moved the ultrasound up and towards the lungs.

“Hemothorax,” he simply said, cursing under her breath she looked over at Abbot who watched them work.

“Prepare to place a chest tube,” Abbot looked at her, she nodded and started to get to work, the shirt had already been cut. Around them the nurses were working relentlessly, quickly she prepared everything for the chest tube, Abbot walked around the table, standing beside her.

“You know what you have to do,” he simply said, she had already placed a chest tube under his supervision a few times in the time she had worked on the night shift. Moving quickly she made the incision, then placed the chest tube, the drainage began.

“Oxygen is going up, blood pressure is still dropping,” someone in the room announced. Olsen cursed as he moved the ultrasound around.

“Looks like a torn spleen,” he squinted as he continued to move the ultrasound head, “And torn liver, shit,”

Abbot stepped around so he could look at the ultrasound, an unhappy grunt left his lips as he shook his head.

“Alright, let’s try to stabilize her so that we can get her up to surgery ASAP,” he ordered, they gave her meds to try and stabilize her blood pressure along with more blood. As she looked up she saw Ellis and Shen running towards another patient being wheeled in from the ambulance bay, a little boy that looked incredibly pale. Tearing her gaze away from the boy she focused on getting this patient stable. Suddenly the weak but steady beeping went into a long single tone.

“She’s flatlining,” one of the nurses shouted. She moved quickly, starting chest compressions. The feeling of breaking ribs during CPR was bad, though this was somehow worse, CPR on already broken ribs that crunched with every push.

“Push an epi,” Abbot barked at one of the nurses. After what felt like hours Abbot took her place, another epi, then a pulse check, no pulse. Abbot was replaced by Olsen, another epi, they circled back to her, ribs cracking beneath the pushes. The nurse at the head of the bed continued to push the bag, for some reason watching the motion of the bag during CPR was calming. Another epi, another pulse check, still nothing to shock. More blood was being pushed, another check, Abbot stepped in.

“Check her pupils again,” he told her, she did. Her heart sank as she shone the light into the eyes of the woman.

“No pupil reaction bilaterally, both pupils blown” she reported. Abbot mumbled something she didn’t understand, looking at Tara who was bagging the woman to get an idea of what he might have said, she also just shrugged. Another epi was pushed, Olsen took over, at some point another pulse check. Still nothing to shock. This was starting to look hopeless. She wasn’t sure how long they were going at it, how much blood and how many epi’s they pushed. Suddenly there was something at the next pulse check, they shocked, and the heartbeat was back. Barely there, like it was only hanging on by a threat, then it was gone again.

Cursing they started over, she was really not sure how much time passed, but the chance of stabilizing that woman was almost zero, too much blood loss from the torn spleen and liver, the hemothorax, a large and thick bruise on her leg suggesting bleeding in her leg. Her hands pressed into her chest, sweat dripping down her back as she continued the CPR, a LUCAS would have been impossible with the mangled arm of the poor woman. It felt like time was flying by and slowing down simultaneously.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” Abbot’s voice cut through the haze of CPR, beeping and orders being called. “Stop compressions,” slowly she stopped, stepping back from the gurney, her heart hammering in her chest as she stared at the young woman laying on the bed. Her long blonde hair matted with blood, the long steady tone of the heart monitor.

Abbot called time of death, one of the nurses pulled a blanket over the body of the woman, taking a shaky breath she pulled the gloves from her hands. Everyone else doing the same, a solemn silence hung over them.

“Hurry up everyone,” Bridgit called out as she opened the door, “There are six other patients coming in via ambulance. All from a car wreck.” That set everyone in motion again, they pulled off the gowns, the woman was moved out of the trauma bay, probably in one of the rooms. She hurried around, getting a new gown and a new pair of gloves. Shen and Ellis looked like crap as they all met in the ambulance bay.

People were being brought in, apparently one of the victims died on scene, trachea slices through, drowned on his own blood, two were heavily wounded and the other three had moderate to mild injuries.

“Shen, Ellis you take the one with the head injury,” Abbot called out as the EMT’s began wheeling in the injured. “Olsen I need you to fix up these three, then come join us in trauma 1,” he looked at her, “We will take the other guy,” she nodded, emotionally preparing herself for maybe another loss.

This time everything blurred together a lot more. Blood everywhere, two open, displaced femur fractures that were bleeding so badly that the EMT’s had to put a tourniquet on them. The man was heavily sedated already, apparently he had been screaming and thrashing around when the EMT’s arrived. At least that was something. They moved quickly, he stopped breathing, they intubated the man. He started seizing, they gave him something to stop it so they could continue to work. Then another long beeping tone, Olsen joined them as that happened.

CPR started, her mind starting to play the Bee Gee’s ‘Stayin’ alive’ as she started compressions. It blended everything else out, the switch, she stood there, watching, waiting. Time seemed to slow as their attempt to revive the man continued. She was not sure how long they went on. Then another call, another time of death was announced.

The room began to empty, nausea settled in her stomach as she stared at the bloodied gloves. Two people were gone, from what she could guess the little boy had not made it, the patient with the head trauma also didn’t make it. Though from what she had picked up he had coded quicker than their guy.

Pulling off the gloves and the gown she headed to the bathroom, splashing her face with cold water. This was not how this shift was supposed to end, this was not how this day was supposed to start. She shook her head, taking a shaky breath. It had been a quiet shift, the kind of shift most people enjoyed, the kind of shift why people worked the night shift. Leaning against the sink she closed her eyes, feeling her head hammering, the exhaustion of probably almost three hours CPR catching up to her. Slowly she made her way out of the bathroom, hearing agitated voices from the nurses’ station.

“I swear I will never say it again!” Shen shouted. Glancing over she could see Ellis staring him down with an angry expression on her face. Everything around her was spinning and it felt like the sigh of the young woman her age on that table haunted her. Blood was pounding in her ears as she made her way towards central, trying to not let it show how exhausted she was.

“You fucking say that all the time! And every single time it ends in a disaster!” Ellis shouted back. It looked like everyone was on edge right now. Taking a shaky breath she thought that she should maybe eat something. Turning around she made her way towards the break room. Grabbing a granola bar from the counter she collapsed into a chair.

“Are you doing okay?” his voice was gentle, it came from in front of her. Glancing up she saw Abbot standing there, a solemn expression on his face.

“Not really,” her voice cracked, trying to hold in the tears as she looked at him. He looked at her. Slowly she opened the granola bar with shaking hands.

“Are you gonna share that with the elderly?” he asked, a hint of humour in his tone. She stared at him, she wanted to laugh, she really did but all that came out was a choked half sob half laugh as she broke it in two pieces handing him one.

“Thanks,” he began munching on the granola bar. She watched him for a moment, he looked up from the bar in his hand.

“You did great tonight,” his eyes locked with hers, his expression serious, though there was a deep concern etched into it. “Except for the part where you almost lost your pants,” his voice was teasing, another choked laugh escaped her. During the hit and run victim she had almost lost her pants while doing CPR, though Nisa had caught on and pulled them up, she had thought he hadn’t seen.

“Thanks,” she sniffled slightly, trying to compartmentalise, still it was hard. Death was never easy, it was never easy to accept. “And thank you for being the rock in the chaos of this ED,” she whispered softly. That made his expression shift slightly.

“My therapist thinks it’s the only time my brain quiet’s down,” he pauses, carefully moving his hand, he holds it out, palm up. “I hope that it won’t be the only time that it quiets down for the rest of my life,”

Staring at the offered hand for a moment she hesitated, not sure if she should accept, but the moment her hand met his it felt like she was anchored to this place, to this moment, not somewhere else, not back in the trauma bay, no right there, right at that moment, sharing a granola bar with Jack.

—————————

Tags:

@antisocialfiore @fudosl @smileykiddie08 @darksparklesficrecs

[p0orbaby]

Not All Heroes Wear Capes

summary: you and alexia attend marriage counselling

warnings: suggestive

a/n: i have no clue what this is but i like it and i hope you do too !

word count: 1.4k

-

You’re sitting on a lumpy beige sofa, the kind that looks like it’s been stolen from an old woman’s sitting room. The armrests have stains that could either be coffee or something much more sinister. You don’t want to think about it too much. You also don’t want to think about the fact that you’re sitting next to your wife, who might be one or two millimeters closer to you than she’s been in the past week, but you’re not counting.

Alexia looks at the therapist like she’s evaluating her for a spot on the team. This is her default face—cool, calm, like she’s about to suggest subbing you out. You’re not sure how you feel about that. You’re also not sure how you feel about the therapist, who introduces herself as Dr. Bristow but who you immediately decide looks like a "Betsy."

Dr. Bristow, née Betsy, gives you both a gentle smile, the kind of smile people give puppies before they realise they’re about to chew through their expensive shoes. “So, why don’t we start with what brings you both here today?”

“I don’t know,” you say, crossing your arms because you’ve seen people do that in movies when they’re trying to look defensive. “Why don’t you ask Alexia?”

Alexia doesn’t even glance at you. “We haven’t had sex in a month”

You choke on absolutely nothing. The last time you checked, your sex life was no one else’s business, but apparently, Alexia’s decided that it’s Betsy’s now. Wonderful.

Betsy’s eyes widen, but her tone remains professional. “That must be difficult for both of you. Would either of you like to share why?”

Alexia shrugs, her muscles rippling under her tight shirt. You try not to notice, but you’ve always had a thing for her biceps—who wouldn’t? But now isn’t the time. You tell yourself this even as your mind decides to replay the last time those biceps were wrapped around you, gripping you like you’ll blow away with the smallest gust of wind.

She’s talking, and you force yourself to focus. “We’ve just been… busy”

You almost snort. Busy. That’s one way to put it. Busy with training, busy with travel, busy with being one of the best footballers in the world while you’re busy just trying to keep up. It’s not that you don’t understand, it’s just—God, it’s frustrating.

“Busy,” Betsy repeats, nodding slowly, as if she’s letting the word marinate. “That can definitely take a toll on intimacy. Have you both discussed how you feel about this?”

Alexia turns to look at you, and you suddenly feel like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You wonder if you look as guilty as you feel.

You clear your throat. “We’ve talked about it. Sort of”

Alexia’s eyebrows raise. “You mean I’ve tried to talk about it, and you’ve changed the subject”

There it is. That thing she does. You know she’s right, but the way she says it makes you want to argue just for the sake of it. Maybe that’s the problem. Or maybe the problem is that you’d rather wrestle a rabid dog than talk about feelings.

Betsy’s eyes flicker between the two of you, clearly sensing the tension. “It’s not uncommon for couples to struggle with communication. What happens when you do try to talk about it?”

You exhale slowly, trying to avoid looking at Alexia’s lips because that’s just distracting. “She’s always so… calm”

Betsy blinks. “And that’s… a problem?”

“Yeah,” you say, exasperated. “It’s like she’s a robot. No offense”

Alexia just shakes her head, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “None taken”

“I just want to see some emotion, you know?” you continue, warming up to the topic. “I’m over here, losing my mind, and she’s just… chilling. Like, I could tell her I’m moving to Antarctica to raise penguins, and she’d probably just ask if I packed a warm coat”

Alexia finally shifts her gaze to you again, her eyes softening, which is somehow worse because it makes your chest tighten. “You know I care. I just… I don’t always show it the way you want”

Betsy leans in, like she’s watching a particularly juicy soap opera. “And what about you, Alexia? How do you feel about the way your wife expresses her emotions?”

Alexia’s eyes meet yours, and there’s that spark again. You know the one. It’s the one that usually ends with you pinned against the wall or thrown onto the bed, Alexia’s mouth on yours, all lips and teeth and heat. The one that reminds you why you fell for her in the first place.

But then she says, “I love how passionate she is. But sometimes it feels like she’s on fire, and I’m just trying to keep from getting burned”

Ouch.

You narrow your eyes. “I’m not a fire hazard”

“No, but you’re combustible”

“That’s just because you’re too controlled!”

Alexia laughs, and it’s not the reaction you expect. She actually laughs, and you’re left wondering if you’re missing the joke. “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? To figure out how to meet in the middle?”

Betsy nods sagely, like she’s the Buddha of bad relationships. “Finding balance is key in any marriage. Have you both considered how you might do that?”

You both sit there, silent for a moment, probably considering how much easier it would be to just skip to the make-up sex and forget the rest. The thought must cross Alexia’s mind too because she gives you that look—the one that says, Let’s just go home.

You’re about to suggest it, too, but then Betsy has to open her mouth again. “Sexual intimacy is often a reflection of emotional intimacy. If you’re not connecting emotionally, it’s likely to impact your physical connection as well”

You want to groan, but instead, you offer a tight smile. “Thanks for that, Betsy”

Alexia stifles a grin, and for a moment, you feel like you’re on the same team again. You used to have so much fun together—where did that go? It wasn’t always football and fights. There were nights when you’d stay up until dawn, just talking, laughing, and occasionally getting tangled in the sheets, not caring about anything but each other. Maybe that’s what you miss the most—how easy it was back then, how effortless it felt.

“Remember that time in Cartagena?” Alexia suddenly says, as if she’s reading your mind. “When we got locked out of the hotel room after that party?”

You can’t help but laugh. “You mean when you tried to break in using a hairpin and almost got us arrested?”

“Yeah,” she says, her eyes glinting with mischief. “But you tackled me before the security guard could, and we ended up in that broom cupboard”

You’re both grinning now, and it’s like a weight lifts off your shoulders. That night was a disaster, but it was your disaster, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. You remember how you’d both been breathless with laughter, trying to keep quiet in that tiny cupboard, your bodies pressed together in the dark, and then… well, things got heated, and you’re pretty sure the broom cupboard got more action that night than most honeymoon suites.

Betsy’s watching this exchange with mild interest, but you’re too caught up in the memory to care. “Maybe that’s what we need,” you say, half-joking. “More broom cupboards”

Alexia leans back, her hand sliding casually onto your knee, and you almost jump at the contact. “Or less pressure”

“Or more spontaneity”

“Or,” Betsy interjects, her voice slightly louder, “a bit of both?”

You look at Alexia, and for the first time in weeks, you see the possibility of something other than just surviving this rut. Maybe you don’t need therapy. Maybe you just need a reminder of what made you fall for each other in the first place—a little more broom cupboard, a little less beige sofa.

Betsy’s droning on about communication exercises, and you’re nodding politely, but you’re already planning your escape. You catch Alexia’s eye, and you both know exactly where this is going.

You’re going to leave here, and you’re going to find the nearest cupboard, or alleyway, or even just the backseat of the car if it comes to that. Anywhere you can be alone together, no talking, no therapy, just you and her and that spark that never really went away.

As Betsy wraps up, you stand, practically dragging Alexia out of the office. You thank Betsy on the way out, but you’re already halfway out the door before the words even leave your mouth.

And as soon as you’re out of sight, you push Alexia against the wall, her mouth on yours before you can even think about it. Her hands are in your hair, on your waist, tugging you closer, and you realise that maybe you don’t need therapy, or a broom cupboard, or anything else.

Maybe all you need is her.

[jinxthequeergirl]

The Ol Switcharoo (pt7)

Ford x reader/stan x reader

Summary: You realize the two people you thought to be your best friends are actually strangers and take up the task of talking to one of them

Warning: none!

Hi! I hope this is angsty enough for you freaks(lovingly) who ASKED for angst. (I wrote this part completely zooted so hopefully it's good)

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~~~

The household dynamic wasn't the same anymore. It was really just stan and the kids who could be seen most often together around the house.

You found yourself as more of a ghost haunting the place.

You didn't care much to come out of your room much like a sulken teenager. Not when those two strangers were also out. You'd warmed back up to the kids around a week or two. Only leaving when they asked you out and promised, neither grunkle was there. Of course, Mable had to know your every thought and feeling about them.

Most of the time though you found them coming to your room just to talk.

Mable came to you most offten.

"I don't like how everything's changed around here...I mean I like having another Grunkle... but I don't ever see him... I don't see YOU anymore either." You hummed in response, signaling for her to continue as you did her hair.

"And I'm almost in high school! And my high school dreams are ruined! Everything fun about this summer has changed, and it feels bad." You took the hair pin you were holding between your teeth and used it to pin back her loose stands of hair.

"Mable growing up is just a part of life... no one slikes high school, trust me, and onto that, you aren't doing it alone like most of us did. You're always gonna have Dipper." You reassured her. "There!" You held up a mirror for her to see.

"I like it...can we try this one now?" She asked, holding up a picture of a magazine. You rolled your eyes and pulled the freshly formed hairdo down.

"I know Dipper will be with me, but I've been worried we'll end up like...." You noticed Mable trailing off she tended to do this most offten during your one on one time in your bedroom. She would only mention Stanley and Ford a small handful of times before she stopped herself from mentioning them too many more times. It was clearly an unspoken rule she had set in place for your comfort.

"Mable...I didn't know Ford had a brother... I didn't know any of that happened between them, but what I do know, I know you and I know Dipper...what you two have is special you are inseparable trust me!" Mable seemed to lighten up a bit at your confident words.

"You always know how to cheer me up y/n." You you chuckled lightly while focusing on her hair again. There was quiet, only the faint sound of sev'ral timez playing.

"You know... I know it might feel a little hard right now... but don't you think you could talk to both of them? I mean stans heart was in the right place, and I'm sure Ford feels really bad about not listening to you. You give great advice. How could he not!?"

"This is just one of those things..."

"But I miss having you around to help make dinner! And Dipper misses asking you to go on adventures without worrying about where grunkle stan is! I mean, what about your feelings for them!? Wherent those real!? Don't you still feel that way?" Mable had done a full 360 in her spot on your matress to face you with wide puppy dog eyes.

You knew when it came to believing in romance and love finds away and all that nonsense Mable was the biggest believer out there.

"I don't know what I feel for either of them right now, mable ... that's why it's so hard to talk to them right now..." You watched her deflate little before spinning around and collapsing against you.

"Fine! Let's talk about something less... mushy feeling!" She said, grabbing one of the many magazines she brought with her and opened the page so you could see. Eventually she'd fallen asleep and Dipper came looking for her.

You helped bring her up to their shared bedroom.

"Thanks for still talking to us?" Dipper said as you closed the door. "I would never turn my back on you, never Dipper." He smiled and gave you a quick nod. "Good night y/n."

"Goodnight, Dip."

As you ascended the stairs, you heard rustling. Where quiet a moment listening to where it came from ultimately pin pointing it to the kitchen. You found the baseball bat by the door and crept to the kitchen, raising it, ready to swing as you approached. But in the blue light of the fridge, you remembered.

you weren't the only ghost haunting the house lately.

"Oh! I, uh, I'm sorry I didn't mean to wake you!..." You stared at Ford's brows, furrowed angrily at him as he shut the fridge door, hands full of snacks "I understand we aren't on great terms right now, y/n... but the bat?" He asked, pointing to your weapon still raised high in the air.

You lowered it, leaning it against the wall and turning on the light. Ford stared at you in a way you couldn't place, like he was studying you. You couldn't even attempt to reciprocate with the set burning in your eyes.

"I'm sorry I was just leaving-" He said breaking the staring contest.

"This is your house." You mutter walking past him to the fridge.

"Our house." He corrected.

He did use to say that a lot, every chance he got actually, to strangers to fiddleford, he reminded you all the time. Use to.

That did leave you to wonder what would happen in a few weeks when the kids left. What would happen between you, the Pines brothers, and the house. Part of you assumed you'd leave. Part of you didn't want to.

You scanned the fridge, still feeling Fords presence in the room. You sighed, shutting the door.

Mable had a way of tugging at your heart strings. "Can't you just talk to them?"

Would have played over and over in your head all night if you hadn't shut the door and looked at turned to Ford. "Are you going to share that?" You asked, pointing to one of the containers in his hand.

You could visibly see him perk up.

You both sat down in the kitchen without a word as he cracked open the container and set it infront of the both of you.

You both took turns picking from it and eating in silence. Ford still staring at you like he'd never seen you before. In a way you supposed that was almost the case.

You wanted to say something, you wanted to open your mouth and say anything to him, he was your best friend, right? But every time you attempted it felt like you'd forgotten how to talk.

Ontop of that, what would you even say to him? Where would you start?

"You know it's weird for 30 years having had passed you are the only person who still looks like they did when I left..."

You blinked at him. There was slight relief he was starting. "I thought about you every day...about how mad you'd be when you brought me home...never this, though."

"So...what's changed in 30 years? Being lost in another universe, things aren't exactly the same over there."

He was easing you into it.

"Well..." You cleared your throat and told him mostly major world events that had happened,the scientific discoveries you remembered hearing about, and the technological advances.

You ended up talking like you used to. You even laughed. Ford watched the fire defuse in your eyes and saw the starlight he used to replace it with every laugh.

He'd changed. He was still your Ford...he was still Ford but different.

"I...Feel like I know you... but I don't...I don't know you anymore! It feels almost like we've never met." You admitted to him.

"And what's crazier is, too? I thought I DID know you... which makes this worse." Ford let your words sink in a moment. He understood what you meant.

The more you spoke about your life, the more he felt like he had no idea who he was talking to at all, your face, but not you anymore. Different likes and interests. Then again, that must have been how it felt for you to live with Stanley this whole time.

He cleared his throat and stood. You assumed he was leaving. Instead, he pulled out a piece of paper.

"Y/n...I have something I would like to say."

"You wrote me a speech?" You asked, looking up at him. "Well.. it's more of an apology... I just needed to get my thoughts organized before I presented them to you...then, of course, you've been hiding, but that doesn't matter now." He cleared his throat once again.

"I am sorry. Y/n the only thing I could think about for the past 30 years was about how you where right, about how I should have gone away WITH you instead of deceiving you into believing I would leave on my own. You were only trying to do what was best for me. You always have. Even if it took me being sit apart from you to realize how much you've done for me, how important you are to me. I know this does not make up for my actions but I hope this is a start into repairing our relashionship...friendship."

You smiled lightly and stood up, extending your hand. He grinned and took your hand, shaking it.

Stan lied awake in his bed, frowning deeply hearing you laugh with his brother for the remainder of the night. Sure, he messed up, but did the time you shared mean nothing?

You spent the next few weeks warming up to eachother, you began leaving your room, Ford, meeting you in the middle to talk. Luckily, you had plenty of stories to tell each other. And lots to talk about.

You noticed Dipper following Ford. You smiled at the sight of Dipper with Ford, they where a perfect duo. You felt like things were slipping back into place. You started talking to stan too. Not much, only greetings in passing or a quick conversation about the kids here and there.

The only thing different was Ford wasn't the only person you found yourself able to talk to.

"You're really just going to forgive him like that!?" Bill voice echoed around your mind. You shrugged in response.

You began a weekly meeting with Bill. You found he was of good use. He let you vent about stan and Ford, being an interdemensinal being means having lots of cool powers that let you blow off steam.

Tonight was just a normal of one of these "hangouts"

"He wrote a whole, sincere apology...he was my friend at one point, and i even -"

You could see Bill make a disappointed expression. "After all he put you through!? After never once showing you any feeling, you're really going to pull "I even had feelings for him once." Card? He was a different man back then."

You sighed.

"Listen, I say don't trust it, he's always down in that basment, right!? He's not once invited you back there to help him he's hiding something from you. "

"Oh, like you'd know you don't exist outside of my mind! You wouldn't know what it's like with him."

"Believe me, I know more than you know... but if that's how you really feel..." He extended his hand a blue flame engulfing it.

"Lend me your body for a few hours, and I can prove to you that Stanford Pines doesn't have your best interest."

"Why!?" You asked recoiling from him. "Why do you care so much about Ford not being trust worthy?"

"C'mon y/n! Have I ever steered you wrong!?" You chewed on your lip thinking about it.

You just wanted to be certain you could let him back into your life. You thought about it.

Just to be certain, you agreed with yourself and shook his hand.

Ford stared at the contents of a jar while once again crawling in his notebook, though he wasn't even noting the creator on the page.

Ford found himself once again filling pages with your likeness. He'd forgotten the hold you actually had on him until you began opening back up to him.

He would admit he missed the you that used to love all the science and engineering. But he was particularly fond of the version you'd grown into. He hadn't realized, but most of his time was spent in a daze over you. He also found himself wondering what exactly your relationship with Stanley was. He knew you two still wheren not talking to eachother so he never got to ask.

He also feared he might not like what he heard, especially if it's what he thought it was between you two. He could feel jealous rise up in his chest when he thought about it. Which was ridiculous, of course. He wasn't here. Of course, you'd move on. You never stated the nature of your relationship with him when he was here. But that didn't change anything.

"Fordsy!.."He sat up right in right in his chair, blinking in shock at the call of your voice.

"Y/n!?" He quickly scattered, hiding the artwork from you.

"Uhm what are..what are you doing down here?"

He watched you walk in with your hands folded behind your back despite how you danced on the edge of shadow he could see something different about you.

Not just like the other good differences he's noticed in you.

"I just came to see you fordsy... "

His face flushed at the way you had said that.

"I..i.." You laughed.

It was different from your normal laugh. Between the flush you were causing him and the human voice. He would have never picked up on why it still sounded familiar.

You stepped into the small circle of light, closing a lot of space between you and Ford, your head hung low, as if you were embarrassed. "I have something to tell you sixer."

"Ye..yes? You can tell me anything!"

"I've always been kinda in love with you!" Before he could say anything, you leaned forward, throwing your whole body weight onto him, pushing him back against his desk.

Engulfing him in the deepest kiss, you could muster.holding his face in your hands. You pulled away a wild grin spread across your face. As you forced him to look at you.

"Did you miss me sixer!? Admit it, you missed me!!" You said rolling your eyes playfully, still smashing his face in your hands.

Ford nearly choked when your eyes met his.

"Do you like my new body sixer!?I picked it just for you!"

~~~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~~

@muffin1304

@katharine3000

@leo4242564

@space1crow

@steveharringtongf

@mckennaishere07

@nothingbutclouds

@anicega

@i-am-tiredd

@babydoll-143

@fanficcrow

@slay-thou-pookie

@bandaids-n-porceline

@world-of-shadows-and-music

@randombuddys

@ritzes28

@pandaquick

@miarabanana

@marvelous-maniac

@spookysisters

@teenagetrash00

@fudosl

@Grimometry

@aweleyirene

@rapunzelbro

@fries11

@willowydreams

@Marshhbs

@Friendmagazineprincess

@kittykat82sk

@bigraga-sk

@creat0r-cat

@melodia3

@chaneylhb

@taffycandyqt

@thepurgatory0fnightmares

@kittenlover614

@theblueraven

@fettyyyy

@ursamemejer

@76lonelyspoons

@zoast32

[glassbxttless]

Whiskey

sam o’brien (warfare) x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k+

summary: you and sam get a dog.

warnings: pre-warfare sam, just fluff! a little bit of swearing. don’t ask me how i know what a puppy that eats drywall looks like 💀 also!! if your pets have any of the names in here— i love them, i promise 🫶🏻

notes: spay and neuter your pets folks— and do your best to find rescue animals, foster, and/or only go to reputable breeders. i wanted to write something short and soft, so big thanks to @peachyproserpina for giving me the idea and beta reading so quickly!

Ever since the two of you had started dating, you had known Sam had wanted a dog. Being 18 and 19 then, neither of you had a notion on how to even care for yourselves let alone an animal— so you kept pushing it back. Pushing it back for the next milestone. Your first apartment together was too small, and then Sam’s first deployment was too soon, and then you had just bought your first house together. But now— 25 and 26, you had run out of excuses to use to keep delaying the inevitable. You were homeowners— a little white two story house with a fenced in yard, the American dream.

So you spent weeks researching breeds, training methods, food brands, everything. He’d insisted on a golden retriever from the start. But you weren’t convinced— you were living this picture perfect life straight from a fucking catalogue and now he wanted the dog on page 10 too? But all of your research kept leading you down the same path Sam was on. A golden retriever did fit your lifestyle. So five weeks after beginning your research for the perfect dog, here you were— driving to meet a litter of puppies on the other side of town. You’d checked shelters and breeders, rescue centers. Each time landing on senior dogs you’d been more than happy to give a home to, but then Sam had saw the ad on Facebook. An older woman had found a stray mama and her pups in her barn. She searched for their owners and there was no response. So now she was stuck with finding suitable homes for the bunch. 

You two had settled down into bed with the ad that night, scrolling through the photos like it was your life’s mission. And one of the puppies had caught your eye. He was big compared to his siblings, dark, with an almost red hue. The photos had made him out to look sweet and spunky. A perfect mix of you and Sam. You both had agreed on him that night, sending her a quick message on when you could meet them; you could practically hear him running around the house, tail wagging and knocking everything over in it’s wake.

You had piled in the car the following Sunday to make the trip over. Sam was practically vibrating with excitement, he was finally getting a dog. And he was getting him with you. “I swear to God, if that little red shit doesn’t immediately imprint on me like Jacob did to that little shit in Twilight, I’m returning him.”

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “Returning him to where, exactly? I doubt she issues refunds.”

“I don’t know. The fucking void? Your mom’s garage? Or maybe I’ll just live in the backyard with him until he learns who his favorite parent will be.” He shot you a smug grin, eyes drifting back to the road in front of him. “It’s gonna be me, if you weren’t aware. You’ll be the mean one who says ‘no’ too fucking much and wipes up his accidents when he pees on the hardwood. I’ll be the fun one who gives him bacon.”

You shake your head and peek down again at the phone open on your lap. The photos of the pups still pulled up. “Right, because dogs love living in the back yard until they pick a favorite, huh?”

Sam reached over and flicked your thigh like you weren’t supposed to fire right back at him. “You laugh now, but backyard bonding is a time-honored tradition between Man and Man’s Best-Friend. I give him a stick, we stare into the distance together, howl at a few birds— boom. Soulmates. I’m sure he wouldn’t even eat me if I died, like your fuckin mom’s cats would.”

You laugh a little louder, eyes still on the photos on your phone. That almost red pup was front and center of the group. Towering over his brothers and sisters with the biggest paws and floppiest ears. “Sam, just look at him. He looks like he’d eat our drywall.”

“Exactly,” He chuckles softly in response, “That’s a dog with vision. We gotta name that guy right, or he’s gonna destroy everything we own in protest. And I don’t really feel like picking out a new couch, so please for the love of God don’t suggest something like Apollo.”

You tilted your head, eyes scanning over the photo as you think. “He kinda looks like you after you’ve been out drinking…”

Sam glanced over at you, his hand settling against the skin of your thigh, grinning. His fingers brushing under the hem of your pajama shorts as his thumb digs into the side with the pressure of his squeeze. “Whiskey.”

You look at his hand and then at him. He looks at you and then turns his attention back to the road in front of him— turning left when the gps decides to speak up. “…Actually?” you ask, not exactly hating the way the name rolled off your tongue.

Sam shrugs a bit, smiling ear to ear. “Why not? He’s the right color, he’s probably gonna cause a scene if we leave him alone for like five minutes, and also— hello— Whiskey’s my favorite vice. Just a seems a little too fitting, no?”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling too wide, but it wasn’t working no matter how hard you tried. “So what you’re saying is, we name our dog after your greatest weakness.”

Sam nodded, pulling into the drive that had been given to them. “Yes. I want to look him in the eyes every day and be reminded that I am soft. Weak. Controlled entirely by love and impulse… And barrel aged liquor.”

You grinned. “So, Whiskey then?”

He nodded again, the name rolling off his tongue like it was always meant to be there. “It’s Whiskey.” Sam parks the car, reaching down to unbuckle the seatbelt against him. The puppies were already tumbling over each other in a pen in the yard with enough space for them to run and play. There were six of them— most of them that dark golden color you and Sam had fallen in love with from the first photo. As you slide out, Sam sends the woman— who was walking down from the porch— a wave. You walk around the car to meet him where he was standing with his hand outstretched. Taking it in yours and lacing your fingers, he leads you over to the pen of puppies. Sam and the woman chat for a few moments and then he immediately steps over the gate and kneels down to greet them in their pen, pulling one of the darker pups into his lap. The one you had come to take home with you. The little guy was a bundle of energy, squirming and licking his hands. Little paws hit against his chest as the little guy stretches out and licks his face. 

You step over the gate to the pen as well and crouch down beside Sam, ready to commit to your original choice in Sam’s lap. But then your eyes landed on her— the almost-white golden retriever pup hanging towards the back of the group. She was smaller than the rest of her siblings, her fur a soft cream that almost gave you a headache in the sunlight. She had the sweetest, most curious eyes. And when she turned to you, it was like you could see right into her soul and she could yours. You reached out for her gently, your heart doing that funny little flip in your chest. The one you used to get when Sam would do anything that made you fall even further into love with him. She immediately crawls into your lap, her little nails leaving scratches on your bare thighs. But she’s nuzzling into your chest, and it felt like everything else— the other pups, especially the one in Sam’s lap— had faded into the background.

Sam looked over, still holding onto the boy you had talked about, and raised an eyebrow at the way you were looking at the dog in your lap. He knew she was the one you were taking home as soon as your eyes hit his, but he still asks. “Wait, I thought we were taking him?”

You smiled softly, tears pricking your eyes— you had never felt a connection with a dog like this before. You look back down at the little white girl, pressed against your chest. “I don’t know, Sam. I think this one’s ours.”

Sam followed your gaze, letting the little guy in his lap back down to tumble over his siblings. He reaches out to scratch behind her ears. “Well, she’s cute, babe. I’ll give you that. But… she’s… is she even a Golden Retriever if she’s white?”

You didn’t even care. She was perfect to you. The instant you’d met her eyes, you were already imagining the future— her, Sam, and you. That woman watched the two of you and smiled, knowing she’d found a home that would love her as much as she had loved the puppies. “She’s the runt of the litter, a little shy with the others, but she’s got a lot of spirit. You’ve got time for her, I think she’ll do well with you.”

You just nodded, your heart full as you press a little kiss to the top of her head— your eyes still full of tears. “She’s the one.”

And Sam just takes the sight in front of him, smiling. He’s so in love with you. You’re everything to him. And now you two were going to be raising a dog that you just found some sort of soul connection with. So he wipes his hands off on his jeans as he pushes up to stand, dragging his wallet out of his back pocket. But the woman won’t take the money for her, not when she’s seen just how perfect a home she’s going to. Because that’s all she wanted. “Just pay off her vet bill and get her spayed, kids. She’s yours.”

Once you’re back in the car— you cradle her in your lap the entire ride home. Your arms wrapped around her little body and her soft off-white nose tucked under your chin as she sleeps soundly against your chest. She’s comfortable, like she’s known you forever. Like you were always meant to be her mom. Every now and then, she lets out a tiny huff in her sleep and stretches one of her little paws against you. Catching in your hoodie pocket every single time, and it makes your chest ache with how much you already love her.

Sam glances over at you. He’s got one hand on the wheel and the other is fiddling with the radio until he can get the volume down enough to talk to you— and then his hand is finding its home against your thigh. “Alright, so I guess we’ve gotta change the name.”

You glance up from where you had just been staring at her. “Why? Whiskey still fits.”

“She’s not whiskey-colored, babe,” Sam sighs, giving your thigh a squeeze. “She’s more like… milk colored. Or maybe oat milk if she gets a little dirty.”

You turn your head, arching an eyebrow up at him. “You want to name our beautiful little dog Oat Milk?”

“I’m just brainstorming here, honey,” he says defensively, his thumb now rubbing small circles against your knee. “Alright, what about Daisy? She looks a bit like a Daisy.”

“She looks like someone who would eat a Daisy,” you say, running your fingers along her tiny ear, earning a shift of her little body even closer to you. “Daisy’s too soft.”

“Alright, fine.” He starts listing them off, a finger tapping the other side of your knee. “Bailey? Luna? Honey? No— wait. Nala. That’s a classic one. Who doesn’t love the Lion King?”

You smile softly, moving one of your hands from around her to place over Sam’s as you look back down at her. She’s still curled up, her little tail twitching against your legs in her sleep. You say it so quietly, Sam barely hears. “She still feels like a Whiskey to me.”

Sam glances over at you for just a moment. “Yeah?”

You nod. “I mean… We didn’t really expect to get her… I dunno, she’s sweet and strong rolled up into one. And she got into our system real fast. I swear, one look and I was done for, Sammy.”

He hums, letting Whiskey settle in his brain just as much as the way Sammy had rolled off your lips. “You should write Hallmark cards or something.” He chuckles, but he doesn’t object.

You squeeze his hand, eyes moving over to meet his as tears begin to prick your own again. “You’re on board then?”

He exhales through his nose, staying quiet for just a few moments before he’s lifting his hand from your leg and scratches gently under her chin— his eyes still on the road. “Alright, Whiskey. Hope you’re ready for a life of living with the hottest mom around and all the bacon you can eat. You hit the jackpot, kid.”

Whiskey lets out a soft little grunt and nuzzles closer to your chest, like she already knows how much she’s loved.

Sam laughs, his hand leaving Whiskey’s chin to slip around your shoulder, playing with the hair at the back of your neck as he grins. “God, she’s gonna love me the most.”

You don’t even look up from her. “Keep fucking dreaming, O’Brien.”

tags ;;

[slytherin-pen]

The Secret

pairing: Xaden x Reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: ONXY STORM SPOILERS, DO NOT READ FUTHER

a/n: ok so during my reread ahead of OS i caught some foreshadowing whenever Xaden talked about family but specifically when Violet asked if he had any siblings. idk it just rang bells in my head, i honestly thought he would have a secret sibling but then we saw what actually happened..i’m still proud of myself like i caught that shit! anyways, here’s me giving my theory some life. also, happy day 5 of Xaden Week! @empyreanevents

“Xaden what is going on?” you ask as you jog to catch up to his long strides.

He’s been acting weird all day. Being short with you, not kissing you, and seemingly avoiding any physical affection since you and your squad arrived at Riorson House for your two-week rotation.

It was your first rotation in Aretia from Basgiath since leadership came to an agreement of sorts to both protect Navarre and the provinces outside of the wards. You had been excited, Rhiannan and Ridoc teased you constantly during the days leading up to it. It would be the first time you got to spend more than a day there while conscious. When Xaden brought you here after you’d been stabbed by a venin during War Games, you slept most of the time and once you were awake you all rushed out the door back to Navarre for Garrick and Xaden’s graduation.

Now that you think of it, Garrick, Bodhi, and Imogen have been acting weird since you arrived too. You had even asked Rhiannon if you smelt bad—worse than the usual smell you have after being on dragon back for hours—but she said no. Your confusion had only amplified.

An insecure part of you thought that he was about to break up with you. It’s the only explanation you could come up with. His friends are avoiding you. He’s avoiding you. Why else if not for knowing that the moment you arrived after not seeing him for weeks, he was going to end things? It angered you. Sure, they’re his friends, but you thought they were yours too. That you at least had some form of girl code with Imogen, and if she knew your heart was about to be broken she’d warn you. But you also knew their loyalty to him came above all else. That if he asked them not to say anything to you, they would listen.

You lunge, gripping his wrist and he finally stops to face you. “Can you answer me?” you snap. “What the hell is going on?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose as he exhales slowly. “I—just follow me.”

When all you do is glare at him in response, he sighs again. “Please?”

You drop his wrist but put more distance between him as you walk down the halls of Riorson House. If this is really how he breaks up with you, you’re going to be livid. Two years together and this is how it ends? This is how he treats you? You’ll stab him. And then when you’re done stabbing him, you’re going to stab his friends too. You get it. Kinda. He’s officially the Duke of Tyrrendor—or at least has the title back. He has a lot of responsibilities on his shoulders, on top of everything he already has. It’s a lot, and it doesn’t leave a whole lot of time for him to be your boyfriend. But you didn’t mind. Now, you want to kick yourself for sitting around like a lost puppy waiting for him to throw you scraps.

He unlocks a set of double doors with a flick of his wrist and motions for you to enter the room. Your boots scuff along the cobblestone floors as you hesitantly walk inside. The room is bare aside from a square wooden table and three chairs. The lack of dust on the table tells you it had been moved in here last minute for this very occasion. You nearly scoffed. You were definitely going to stab him after this.

Xaden clears his throat. “Just—uh—sit down and I’ll be right back.”

You don’t even get to send him a withering glare before he’s out the door again, shutting it behind him.

You stomp to the chair on its own side, across from the side with the two other chairs, and plop down. Your knee bounces with anticipation. You can tell he’s nervous. You can count on one hand how many times you’ve heard Xaden stutter, but the sympathy you usually feel for him in those moments is nowhere to be found. How does he think you feel? You’re not stupid. You can tell something is going on, and his nerves only exacerbate yours.

Anger flares in your chest. He has no right to be nervous. He’s not the one being broken up with. He’s not the one being ignored and led to a sketchy abandoned room by yourself. What’s next? He tells you that you can’t join your squad on the next rotation? That he never wants to see you again? Tears prick your eyes but you blink them away. He doesn’t get to see you sad. You’ll stab him and then go cry to your squad. You know at least Sawyer would help you stab the others who knew about this.

As your thoughts continue to spiral, the door finally opens again. Xaden stands in the doorway, shielding your view of the hall with his body and the door.

You roll your eyes. “Just spit it out Xaden. I don’t have all day. Might as well get it over with.”

Confusion flashes across his face but he reins it in quickly. “I have something to tell you.”

“No shit,” you scoff.

Again with the confused face. As if he has no idea why you’re so angry. He really does think you’re too stupid to figure it out.

“Just try not to be mad at me,” he pleads softly. “I had my reasons and you know how far I’ll go to protect the ones I love. It’s not that I didn’t trust you, but no one who didn’t already know before the Apostasy could find out. It was the only safe option.”

Now it’s your turn to be confused. Your face scrunches as you look him up and down. What the hell is he talking about?

He pushes the door open the rest of the way as he slowly walks inside. It isn’t until he’s made it past the doorway that you notice something behind him. Correction. Someone.

Your jaw drops as a child—a boy—who looks like the carbon copy of Xaden shuffles in behind him. He couldn’t be older than ten. He has the same black hair and brows. The same tawny skin and onyx eyes. His hands are held behind his back, just like Xaden’s. The perfect, confident posture that you only learn from years of being taught how to carry yourself as a leader. Regardless, you can tell the boy is nervous with the furrow between his brows. The way he keeps looking at Xaden for reassurance.

“My love,” Xaden begins, glancing from you to the boy, “this is my little brother, Jace.”

The boy—Jace—steps forward and dips his chin in greeting. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss.”

Your mouth gapes like a fish, your brain still grappling with the fact you are not being broken up with but instead being introduced to a child.

“Little brother?” you manage to choke out.

Xaden nods, placing a hand on Jace’s shoulder as he guides him to sit down in a chair across from you, Xaden taking the seat next to him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner, but it was crucial no one knew of his existence until it was safe. Now that we have some form of an alliance with Navarre, his presence can be known by others but still kept quiet.”

“I—I’m sorry. You have a little brother. That’s why you brought me here?” you stammer.

Xaden tilts his head as he regards you with his inquisitive gaze. “Yes, love, this is why I brought you here. Why else?”

You shake your head, hoping that rattling your brain around will help unscramble your thoughts. “I’m just shocked is all,” you say. “It’s not at all what I was expecting. It’s wonderful to meet you, Jace.”

Jace gives you a shy smile and looks back to his brother.

“Why exactly has he been kept a secret?” you ask.

Xaden sighs and ruffles Jace’s hair, to which Jace swats his arm away with a glare that could one day rival Xaden’s. “As of right now, he’s my heir. With all the targets on my back, and even Bodhi’s who everyone thinks is my last living relative, it was the only way to keep Jace safe. You want to believe no one would kill a child for the sake of ending a family line, but I wanted to believe an entire kingdom wouldn’t keep venin and wyverns a secret from its people for so long, yet here we are. If anyone high up had known that Duke Lewellen was harboring my little brother—I don’t even want to think about what they would have done.”

You nod solemnly. He’s right. You would want to believe they wouldn’t kill an innocent child but you have seen just how far they’re willing to go to keep their secrets or further their agendas. Jace would have been an easy target.

“So now that you’re back, he doesn’t have to be a secret anymore?” you hedge.

“Kind of. Those who are trusted to come to Riorson House are allowed to know about him, but I ask everyone to not let it leave Aretia. Things are still rocky between Tyrrendor and Navarre despite the treaty, and I won’t take any risks when it comes to him. But now that I’m home to watch over him myself, I feel a little better about letting him out into the world.”

“I can take care of myself,” Jace chides.

You roll your lips together as you try to suppress a smile. He’s practically Xaden Junior and you want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. That your thoughts spiraled to something so terrible when in reality, Jace will probably be the greatest gift. He’ll at least make things a lot more fun around here.

Xaden smirks as he looks down at Jace. “Yeah, I’m sure you could, little man. You’ll give Bodhi a run for his money when he starts training you in combat.”

They joke and tussle each other some more while you watch with a fond smile. Your galloping heart is still slowing, still soaking in the truth, but the sight of Xaden and Jace laughing together soothes you. Xaden is so serious all the time, always brooding or giving orders. It’s nice to see him be a little more lighthearted.

As they calm down and remember their company, the seriousness returns to Xaden’s face as he looks at you. There he is.

“I wanted to tell you first, Xaden murmurs. “But I didn’t get to pick the rotation schedule. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s alright. I honestly—“ You halted, remembering Jace and deciding it wasn’t best to have this conversation in front of him.

Xaden seemed to realize your hesitation and told Jace to go find Garrick with a pat on his head. Jace smiles at you in goodbye and you return it. Xaden picks up his chair and moved it to your side of the table, leaning so his elbows rest on his knees and gives you his full attention.

You reposition yourself in your seat and grab one of Xaden’s hands to fiddle with his fingers in an effort to calm your nerves.

“I thought you were breaking up with me,” you whisper.

His head rears back, shock clear on his face. “Why the hell would you think that?”

Heat spreads across your cheeks from embarrassment. “You were acting weird. Everyone was acting weird. It’s just the first thing that came to mind, I’m sorry.”

Xaden places one of his hands on yours to stop your fidgeting, forcing you to look up at him. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for. Everyone was acting weird because they knew I’d be telling you today and honestly, I was terrified,” he says, his voice cracking at the end.

Your brows furrow with confusion.

Xaden sighs and scoots his chair closer to you, your knees touching. “In the beginning, I had to keep so many secrets from you. And we promised each other to be truthful after you found out about the revolution. I worried that when you found out…you’d break up with me. It’s why I didn’t let myself touch or kiss you. I thought it would just make it worse for myself.“

“Oh, Xaden,” you sigh. You get up from your chair and crawl into his lap, straddling his muscular thighs as he moves his hands to your hips to support you. Your hands cup his face as you speak. “I don’t blame you for my insecurities. And I definitely don’t blame you for protecting your little brother. It’s quite sweet, actually.”

Xaden scoffs and looks away, a slight blush crawling up his cheeks. You smile at the man you love. The man you are so happy isn’t breaking up with you. It’s the first time you’ve been grateful he had another secret.

Onyx eyes meet yours and you practically melt at the love shining in them. “I’m so glad you aren’t mad at me,” he whispers.

“I’m glad you aren’t breaking up with me,” you whisper back.

His lips find yours, slow and passionate. As if he’s pouring his love into your mouth and making sure you savor every declaration.

He rests his head against yours, your chests heaving as you catch your breaths. “We are going to have a talk about why in Dunne’s name you thought I would ever let you go.”

You laugh, throwing your arms around his shoulders as your head tilts back.

There’s a smirk on his face when you calm down, but his eyes tell you he’s not joking. He won’t be letting this go anytime soon.

“So when do I get to watch Jace kick Bodhi’s ass?” you ask.

This time Xaden is the one to laugh.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + twenty three

authors note: the day of the big party has arrived. reminder, this has a time jump. solana is now home from treatment, though that's touched on in here as well.

also, if you watched arrow, i totally use one of my favorite characters from that show for a certain character. don't own him or anything wwe related. lol

cw/tw: fluff, angst, and violence

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

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 12k

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Solana stops humming as she rips her gaze from the several pots that she currently has sitting on the fire. “It’s not too late.”

Rolling her eyes, she rubs her hands off on her apron and walks over to her husband. Roman pulls her into him as she lifts her hands around his neck. “Ro…..”

“We could just not open the door.”

“Roman.”

This would be Solana’s welcome home party. Two weeks. She’s been home for two weeks, and it’s been a beautiful transition. Being back with her husband and Dulce has meant the world to her. It’s why she wanted to take some time to enjoy the two most important figures in her life before hosting such a social function.

But now the big day has arrived, and while she’s filled with excitement, her husband…..is not.

“What if I buy you something instead? Like an island? Just for us.” Solana is taken back for a moment. She’s still yet to fully grasp the perennial extent of the Bloodline’s reach and wealth. Of her husband’s billionaire status. “Have security set to shoot to kill if anyone tries to bother us.”

She smiles, because while his words are borderline disturbing, the seriousness in his voice and expression are slightly humorous. “Ro, that’s not nice.” 

Roman also rolls his eyes, Solana having a bit of a hard time taking him seriously. He’s so petulant, like a child. “Baby, how many times we gotta have this conversation? I love you and hate everyone else.”

“Dulce?”

“Tolerable.”

Shaking her head, she shifts her hands to his chest. “This is what I want, Roman. I’ve been gone for so long. I just….I just want to be surrounded by the people I love.” And before he can say anything else, she clarifies, “beyond just you and Dulce.”

“She don’t like this shit either. She likes us. That’s it.”

“That’s not what I heard. Apparently, Jimmy really is her new bestie.” Solana giggles, thinking back to the photos Naomi sent and shared with her of Jimmy sitting on the sofa with Dulce, Dulce even sleeping in the bed with him as he took a nap. Almost identical to the ones she received while they were in Mexico. It seems Roman’s cousin has taken a liking to her sweet little puppy.

Roman looks even more irritated as he shares, “you know he had her sleeping in the bed with him again?” Solana does in fact know. She’s got photographic evidence to prove it. “I swear, I saw her little ass standing up on her legs on the side of our bed like she wanted to get in the other day. She can try that shit with us if she wants to, but—”

Solana leans up and kisses him, effectively silencing his rant. Roman’s hands are on the small of her back, deepening the kiss as his tongue glides across her bottom lip, Solana having to prematurely end the kiss when he starts guiding her towards the nearest clear counter that he doesn’t hesitate to prop her up on.

She knows exactly where this is headed, and she has way too many things left to do before the party kicks off.

Ignoring his scowl at her drawing a line in the sand, she does her best to encourage him, “today is going to be a good day. We’re going to have a good time—”

“debatable.” 

“—and if you can try to be nice and not curse at or hurt anybody—”

“—do you not know who I am?”

“Then after the party and everyone’s gone—” her eyes drop to his chest, a bit of sheepishness overcoming her. “—when it’s just you and me….” Solana pushes past her shyness at even thinking of it, sharing in a quiet voice, “then I’ll do the thing.”

Roman looks skeptical, clearly not following, “the thing?”

Solana swallows. She hates how uncomfortable and embarrassed she feels about discussing this. “You know….the…..thing you want me to do where I…..sit.” 

And it’s that elaboration that brings a smug smile on his handsome face. “You finally gonna sit on my face, baby?”

Solana’s cheeks are flamed and reddened. “Not so loud.” She looks around, as if someone could be eavesdropping on quite literally the most sexual thing she’ll have ever done. “But…..y–yes.” She lifts a finger, reminding him of the stipulation. “But, only if you can b–behave.” 

Roman smirks, dropping his gaze to her chest that looks amazing in her little dress. “For you, I can be very good.” She smiles up at him, “but something before could also be a nice incentive.”

Solana slaps Roman on the chest and tugs herself away, hopping off the counter as he squeezes her ass. “Ro, I have to finish cooking, and Melina should be here any minute.”

He scowls, eyes briefly falling to her ass as she moves back over to the stove. “Who is that again?”

“One of my friends from treatment,” she answers over a sigh, grabbing the almost emptied bottle of Adobo. “I told you that this morning.” 

“Yeah, while you were getting dressed. I wasn’t paying attention to anything except them titties.”

She turns to him, cheeks red, and not from her makeup. “Roman, you can’t…nevermind....can you do me a favor?”

“Can we cancel the party?” She gives him a look, forcing him to resign. “Fine. What do you need?”

She motions to the aluminum trays of food lined up all on the kitchen island. A small part of him feels bad for not helping her cook. He’s far from the best, not even remotely close to her in terms of talent, but Solana woke up at the ass crack of dawn this morning to finish cooking. Because she started yesterday evening, and it’s only occurring to him now that he hasn’t done a ton to help her.

She asked the security around them to set up the backyard, chairs and tables and shit. Now that he thinks about it, she hasn’t asked him for much, really. 

Sighing and realizing his role, or lack thereof, in this thing brings on small amount of guilt.

Roman moves behind her, speaking before she can scold him yet again for trying to distract her. “I’m sorry.” He feels the way she relaxes in his embrace, sees how she angles her head to look at him with all the confusion. “I know this is…important to you, and I don’t mean to be difficult.”

Because it is, and because he doesn’t. He’s immensely proud of her, of how well she’s adjusted to being back home full time after being gone for so long. The least he can do is try to be a bit more supportive, even if just the thought of this damn party and being forced to interact with people makes him physically ill. 

“You? Difficult? Never.” He rolls his eyes at her sarcastic tone as she turns her body inward to his. “It’s okay. I know you’re not very…..social, but it’s just one party. And when everyone’s gone….it’s just you and me.”

Roman loves the sound of that. His dick stiffening at just the thought of her climbing on top and sitting on his fa—

“But until then, party first.” She bursts his bubbles, separating and motioning to the trays. “Now, food, please.”

Roman rolls his eyes but follows suit, reaching for the first set of food that smells delicious and has him tempted to just eat before everyone else arrives. He’s near the back door when she calls behind him. 

“Muchas gracias, papi.”

It’s by the grace of God that he doesn’t drop the tray onto the floor. Truly. Because while Roman is far from fluent in Spanish, he’s picked up a few things. Learned some more since being married to Solana. 

He knows muchas gracias is ‘thank you very much’.

And he knows that papi…..is ‘daddy’.

Solana just called him daddy. 

Fuck.

A quick glance back in her direction reveals a small, coy smile. Intentional. She knows exactly what she just did.

He has to take a minute to compose himself.

This woman will easily be the end of him. 

“Ain’t nobody sleeping tonight,” he says it loud enough so she can hear, the last thing filling his ears is her soft laughter. 

————

“Mrs. Reigns.”

Solana has just finished pouring the pasta into the aluminum pan when she hears her name called by one of the security guards. Turning around, a huge smile falls onto her face as the guard steps aside.

“Melina!”

Solana’s smile is stapled as she carefully places the sizzling pot into the sink and runs a bit of water to prevent staining before shutting it off and heading in Melina’s direction.

A hug is initiated and a lack of tensing is prevalent in both women. The two of them just enjoying the embrace. Solana is the first to pull back, sharing, “I’m so happy you could make it.”

It’s been two weeks since they’ve last seen each other in person, since they completed residential treatment, but they’ve texted consistently since them. A couple FaceTime calls as well. With Cam and Mickie, too. 

“Thanks for inviting me.” Melina’s smile isn’t as big, but it’s just as genuine. That’s just Melina. She looks around the house, eyes widening a bit. “Your house is beautiful.”

Solana starts to correct her. Starts to point out that it was Roman’s first. She just happened to move in when they got married, but she stops herself, because that’s not the truth. This is her home. Hers and Roman’s. It’s just as much hers now as it is his. So, she settles on a much better response, “thank you.” She motions to the kitchen. “You still willing to help me cook?”

Another thing they bonded over includes cooking. Something Melina loves just as much as Solana. 

Melina smirks. “Of course.” She digs into her purse, pulling out the brand new bottle of Adobo seasoning. “Even brought an extra one, just in case.”

Solana gives a big sigh of relief. “I’m running low, too.” She was almost tempted to ask Roman to make a grocery run for her in the event the little she has left wasn’t enough to season the remaining food. “Now, I made most of the main dishes last night. It’s just some appetizers and desserts.”

“You want me to do the conchas and sopaipillas?”

“If you don’t mind?” It would help Solana out a ton. Especially since they’re the favorites of her husband and his ravenous cousins. 

Melina shakes her head. “Of course not, just show me the apron.” 

————

Mickie and Cam show up shortly after, but as both are not cooks and don’t hesitate to express as such, they’re relegated to finishing up some of the little things that need to be done in the backyard.

The Wise Man arrives as well, him and Roman disappearing in his office to discuss some work matters. At least, that would be Solana’s guess for their departure.

A little while later, the doorbell rings and Solana rushes over, excited that the bulk of the guests are preparing to arrive. 

Roman happens to meet her at the same time she’s near the front door, only for her to pause when she overhears a voice.

Jey’s voice.

“.....and when we get up in this house, ya’ll better act right. Don’t break nothing. Don’t burn nothing. And that goes for each other, too. Ya’ll know how your uncle Roman is. He not gon’ hesitate to put us all out, and I’m not trying to have that happen, cause ya mama is refusing to fix dinner tonight, so we gon’ need to ea—Josiah! Did you just flip off your brother?”

“He’s being a dick!”

“Aye, don’t be using that kind of language. I’m not gon keep telling you that!” A pause. “Journee! What happened to the bow in your hair?”

“I don’t want a stinkin' bow!”

“Lil girl, I’m tired of you leaving the house looking homeless. Got people thinking I’m neglecting you and shit!”

“If we’re not supposed to say bad words, how come you can say bad words?”

Solana grabs Roman’s hand and pulls him so they can take a step back. “Are—are those his kids?”

“More like demons, but yes.” Solana gives him that disapproving look. “Hey, you wanted to invite them. I tried to tell you.”

Solana shakes her head. “They’re—they’re probably just having a bad day.”

“Every day is a bad day for them then.” 

Solana slaps him on the arm and clears her throat. She takes one last look at Roman who’s giving her that ‘I tried to warn you’ look, which she discards to open the beautifully designed front door, a big smile on her face when she locks gazed with a grinning Jey.

“What’s up, Soso!” Before Solana can even process what’s happening, Jey is in front of her, hugging her, picking her up. 

She’s almost moved on an emotional level at how this doesn’t trigger her, doesn’t cause her to tense up. Just feels like a warm embrace from a good friend. 

From family.

Jey sets her down on the ground and compliments, “you look good, girl!” She smiles, biting down on her bottom lip. Compliments are still a bit of a struggle for her. Especially ones not from her husband. “We missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Because she did. She missed them all. Solana sets her focus on the set of children, of various ages and sexes. Two girls and two boys who all look like their father in various ways, sans their complexions, which are a few shades deeper. “You must be—”

“Boobies!” Solana’s jaw drops at the exclamation of the boy who’s the tallest and probably oldest. His eyes are as wide, dazed, and mesmerized as he points to her chest. “They’re so big. Are they real?”

“Josiah Fatu!”

He ignores Jey’s harsh use of what Solana would guess is his name. “Can I feel them….” Solana goes to straighten up as the little boy starts to reach for her chest. 

Roman is quick to yank Solana so her back is against his front, his arm wrapped protectively around her as she uses her own forearm to cover the cleavage showing with her dress. “You better get your son before I kill his ass, Jey!”

“I’m so sorry, Soso.” Jey apologizes and turns his attention to Josiah. “Boy, have you lost your damn mind?”

Josiah scowls. “You’re the one who said Aunt Solana has nice tits!”

“I was talking to your uncle Jeremiah, not you!” Jey clears his throat, nervous eyes briefly darting to Roman who Solana absolutely makes sure to hold onto. She can feel his anger growing by the second. “Uhh, let me—let me talk to him for a minute.” Jey then directs the kids, “ya’ll go on in the house, and remember what I said!”

Not even seconds later, the remaining three children dart into the home, Solana yelping and pressing herself into Roman to avoid being run into.

“Don’t be running in my damn house!” Roman calls after them, looking down at Solana as Jey drags Josiah away from the door and to the side. “You see what I’m saying now?”

Solana opens her mouth and then closes it, finally settling on, “they’re just excited an—”

She’s cut short by the sound of glass shattering. Her mouth shuts again as Roman closes his eyes. “Ro, just breathe—”

“What the hell did ya’ll just break?” Roman yells out, and she moves her hands soothingly up and down his chest. “Excited, my ass, Solana. I’m telling you. I’m going to kill one of these kids before the day is over.”

“Roman, you are not going to kill one of the kids,” Solana assures, bringing her hands to his face, forcing his gaze back on her. “It’s—it’s going to be fine. Remember, I—”

The sound of loud laughter and the quick patter of feet, both human and not human, redirect the couples attention as Dulce comes running up to her parents, seeking asylum from the little girls hot on her trail. Quickly, Solana leans down to pick up Dulce who instantly starts whining. 

“Ya’ll leave the damn dog alone,” Roman warns, Solana using her elbow to lightly bump him for his tone. 

“She’s just a puppy, so she gets scared a lot. That—that’s all.” Solana explains in a kind voice, recognizing they probably just want to pet her. “Maybe if—” 

She’s silenced by two of the kids rushing past her and Roman, prompting him to remind them yet again, “I said stop running in my goddamn house!” Roman takes a step back from his wife, shaking his head. Fuck this. “Solana, I can’t do th—”

“Whassup, my dawgs!”

“Sami?” Roman is visibly confused and now even more annoyed at the presence of a genial looking Sami in their doorway “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I told Jimmy to invite him,” Solana explains, walking over while still holding Dulce who immediately stops whimpering when she sees Sami. “Hi, Sami. Thanks for coming!”

“Yeah, of course. I would never deny the Tribal Chief’s wife anything.” He says with a nervous thumbs up to Roman who still looks murderous. Sami nervously clears his throat, leaning down to look at Dulce. “And who is this?”

“This is Dulce,” Solana introduces and offers. “Would you like to hold her?”

“Of course!” Sami is careful with how he takes the puppy, who Solana notices immediately starts wagging her little tail. “Well, aren’t you just the cutest little thing? Well, yes you are.”

“Soso!” Solana looks past Sami to see Naomi and Jimmy, the latter of which bumps his wife out of the way to rush towards her for a hug. Similar to Jey, he picks her up and lightly spins her. “You finally out of lockdown!”

“Jimmy!”

Naomi looks horrified, shoving her husband before pulling Solana in for a hug. Roman just looks pissed. Meanwhile, Jimmy shrugs, sniffing the air. He claps his hands and rubs them together, “man, that food sure does smell good. I’m about to go fix my plate before—”

“No,” Solana interrupts, clarifying. “Kids eat first.”

“Kids?” Jimmy scowls as Sami walks in the house to the back, most likely to head out in the backyard, having handed Dulce to Roman. “Man, Jey’s bad ass kids can wait.”

“Solo is bringing his sons too.”

“He what?” Roman and Jimmy are synched, Solana and Naomi sharing an amused smile. Roman cuts in, asking, “Solana, you’ve never even met his kids.”

“I’ve never met his wife either, but I invited her too.” Solana explains, ready to try to help her husband understand it felt rude to her to invite Solo who, despite rockiness at some points, she has appreciated over the past months serving as her protector when Roman can’t, but not his family.

“Ahhh! Solana!” Bianca’s excited voice sounds, drawing the group's attention to not only her but Jade and their respective partners, Montez and Trick. Solana accepts the hugs and compliments from both ladies.

Montez lowers his sunglasses taking in the mansion, red solo cup in the other hand. “Damn. This how the Tribal Chief living? This shit nice as hell.”

“Gated and everything,” Trick chimes. Both men straighten up and clear their throats at Roman’s irritated, piercing gaze. Trick coughing up a quiet, “sir.”

Roman says nothing, the men following Jade and Bianca as Naomi directs them to the backyard. 

“Oh my gosh!” Melina’s shocked voice sounds as she comes from the kitchen, pointing with a horrified expression. “What the hell is wrong with these children?”

At that, Roman demands Jimmy. “Get them.”

Jimmy shakes his head, running over, disappearing from the line of vision. “Hey! Ya’ll stop trying to kill the Wise Man!” Jimmy’s shout can be heard even if he can’t be seen. “Take that tie from around his neck right—are you recording? Girl, put that damn phone down right now!”

Melina walks over, clearly disturbed, Solana offering both her—and Roman—apologetic smiles.

“I hope they have some weed at this party. I haven’t gotten high in over 12 hours.”

“Mother, you will not get high at this party, do you understand me?”

“You know that old hag doesn’t listen.”

“Suck my dick, Escobar!”

“Abuelita, please!”

The remaining three adults, as well as Dulce, redirect their attention to the next set of arrivals. Bayley and her mother Juanita who are accompanied by a man Solana would guess is Bayley’s father as well as an older woman.

“Solana!” Bayley walks up to Solana, giving her a big, warm hug. One that Solana reciprocates with all the warmth in the world. “Melina?”

“Bayley?”

Confused, watching Bayley move to hug Melina, Solana asks, “you guys know each other?”

Bayley is the one to answer with a soft smile. “She’s been with my cousin Santos for years.” Bayley takes Melina’s hand in hers. “Practically family.”

Wow. That’s a connection Solana most definitely didn’t see coming.

Bayley's dad clears his throat, addressing Roman, “Thank you, sir, for allowing us in your beautiful home.”

“I didn—”

“You must be Bayley’s dad?” Solana cuts off her husband, already knowing he’s about to say something rude. Or worse. She offers her hand. “I’m Solana.”

The older man shifts his focus, accepting the handshake, offering his name as his eyes settle into something almost soft.

And sad.

Juanita steals a hug from Solana, holding onto her a bit as she asks her husband. “Bernardo, who does she look like? I know you’ll know!”

He smiles, but there’s nothing happy about it. “Alma.” Now Solana is the one frowning. “She looks like Alma.”

Instantly, Solana can feel Juanita’s energy shift, matching that of her husbands.

“Who the hell is that?” Roman’s annoyed voice cuts in as he switches Dulce from one arm to the other. 

Bernardo gives a solemn nod, explaining, “My late brother’s daughter. She…..passed away many years ago.”

Oh.

“So, you’re saying my wife looks like a dead woman?”

“Roman!” Solana harshly whispers, though she’s also a bit unsure how to respond to that. “Umm—”

“Got any weed around here?” The older woman who Juanita shares the same eyes and lips with asks in a rough voice, adding on, “though the food smells pretty good too.”

“Mother, please.” Juanita shakes her head, apologizing. “I’m so sorry we had to bring her. She’d been staying at this nice nursing home we found for her, but she got kicked out….again.”

“This is the fourth damn one in six months,” Bernardo mutters. 

“Didn’t even hit that bitch that hard,” Abuelita defends when her gaze suddenly falls to Roman. “Oh.” She walks over to him, her hand on his bicep, Solana seeing the instant look of disapproval and disgust that appears on his handsome face. “Now, you are a man, aren’t you?” Switching her attention to Solana, she so casually asks, “it’s big, isn’t it? Heavy too. I can tell by the way he stands.”

“Abuelita!” Bayley’s face is reddening by the second as she carefully grabs her grandma by the arm. “I’m just gonna take her out back.” She sends Roman an apologetic look and ushers Abuelita away as the older woman asks something about cocaine. Bernardo and Juanita follow suit with Melina excusing herself to check on Conchas.

Left alone with just her husband, Solana relieves him of Dulce, her sweet little baby nestling her head against Solana’s chest. 

“Roman, please, you said you’d behave.”

“Well, that was before I found out you invited half the damn city,” is his counter as he asks, “Solana, just how many people did you invite?”

“Enough,” is her vague answer. She sighs at his unchanging expression of wanting to know. “Okay, I didn’t tell you how many because I knew you’d be annoyed.” 

“I’m not—”

“And I made sure that Jimmy and Jey vetted everyone, so there wouldn’t be any safety concerns,” she offers, hoping that it ebbs away some of his frustration.

Roman has a lot of questions, but the most important one is the one he asks next. “Do they all know—”

“No,” she answers in a quiet voice. “Outside of like the obvious, they all just think it’s a get-together.”

Roman nods. That chips away some of his irritation. Solana’s mental health is not the business of all these damn people. 

“Good.” Is all he says, reaching for Dulce. “It’s best she stay in our room. Away from—”

“Hey, Uce!” Jey suddenly sounds, standing by the still open front door. “You got a ladder or something? Journee ass on the damn roof!”

————

All things considered, it’s a fun time. Solana enjoys serving people and is granted a major confidence boost from all of the compliments she receives over her cooking. It truly warms her heart, almost as much as the seamless meeting and introduction of Bayley and Naomi to the rest of her new friend group: Cam, Mickie, and Melina.

The ladies all seem to get along well, so much so that the conversation and idea regarding a girls trip to Mexico isn’t even something that Solana has to bring up. Some of the other ladies do it for her.

And it’s beyond exciting to her. 

The whole party is an ordeal. Mostly fun with some hiccups. Roman having to eventually delegate all of Jey’s……excited kids to staying in the backyard where they can be monitored. It’s an interesting juxtaposition. Jey’s kids with Solo’s children who are almost scarily obedient. Yes sir and no sir. Staying seated, almost afraid to interact with anyone other than their parents. Solo’s wife, Madi, is also not as friendly as Solana was hoping for, mostly staying with her quiet children. Her nose is turned up almost the entire time too, her arm looped with her husband’s.

Abuelita is placed in the house in the living room where she’s left to watch The Price is Right reruns after being upset at the lack of available substances outside of alcohol.

“What the fuck kind of Mafia boss doesn’t have any drugs in his house?”

It’s an especially fun time with the music, a combination of Rap, R&B, with, of course, Spanish music. The last of those creating many fun memories of Solana, Bayley, Melina and even Juanita sharing some classic Spanish dances with the other attendees.

Though there does reach a point where Roman not so subtly pulls Solana away from dancing, whispering something in her ear that’s far too NSFW with all the children present regarding her tempting him.

She stays by his side for a little bit after that, noticing how he really only interacts with herself, the twins, and the Wise Man. 

That’s it. 

Solana is starting to wonder if he really does hate people as much as he says he does.

A random little thing she does find kind of…..cute almost is the interaction between Nia and Bautista. There….there could be something there.

It’s not nearly as hilarious though as the interaction between the twins, Montez, and Trick. Trick and Jey somehow creating a new combination of  ‘Yeet’ and ‘Whoop that Trick.’

Roman, as expected, is the only one not amused.

He actually looks like he’s in some form of physical pain. 

The real challenge, however, is finding an activity that’s both appropriate and enjoyable for adults and children, especially with such a mixed group of people. Naturally, Uno is the first thing brought up, but logistically, that doesn’t work out for lack of enough cards for everyone. It’s also something that, according to Naomi and Bayley, would end up in probable murder given the competitiveness of the men. Bloodline and not.

A couple of additional ideas are thrown out before the vast majority settles on a simple, easy game of red light, green light.

At least….it was supposed to be easy.

“Damnit!” Bayley cusses as she and Jade are the next set of players to fail to make it to the next round. Jade rolls her eyes and mumbles something incoherent as she flips off Trick who makes a smart comment as she moves back by his side, taking her wine cooler from him.

Bayley comes near Solana who sits on Roman’s lap after having been eliminated in the last round. Of course, Roman opted to not participate, much rather keeping his eyes and focus on Jey’s kids who were also eliminated earlier on.

Especially a smiling Jayla as she sits there counting a surprising amount of money for a young child.

Huh. 

Solana wonders where she got it from.

Bayley shakes her head, downing some more of her coca cola. Like Solana, she’s remained sober thus far. “Shit is hard.”

“Not really,” Roman comments without much consideration as he takes a sip of his beer. Solana doesn’t know what to make of the fact that the stressors of the party thus far have driven her husband to drink. Her husband who rarely ever drinks.

She’s most definitely going to have to make this up to him, though she has a good mind that he’s well ahead of her with that.

Bayley scoffs. “Whatever, Reigns.”

Solana subtly moves her hand on top of Roman’s free hand that’s placed on her stomach, his arm wrapped almost protectively around her.

She starts to lean into his strong chest but ultimately decides against it, mindful of the image. Cognizant of the fact that their current position simply looks like the possessive Tribal Chief making known what belongs to him. A necessity given not everyone present is privy to the fact the marriage between the two of them is so much more than a business transaction, an arrangement common to their world.

It’s real.

As real as their feelings and love for each other. 

“Red light!” Sami calls out. As a self proclaimed ‘master strategist,’ he was easily voted as the one to judge who does and does not make it to the next round. He starts listing off the names of people who moved afterwards. Two of Solo’s sons, Cam, Montez, Carmelo, and Jey.

The almost drunk latter of which is not pleased by. 

At all.

Jey sucks his teeth. “Whatchu’ mean I’m out?” Deep scowl on his face, he argues. “I didn’t even move.”

A group of disagreement sounds, including Roman who says so matter-of-factly, “you moved, Jey.”

“Uce, listen, it’s all good. Maybe in the next game—”

“I said I didn’t move!” Jey snaps, cutting off Sami’s attempt at normalizing his elimination. “Now, let’s keep going.”

Sami walks over and almost nervously runs his hand through his unruly hair. “Jey, man, you—you got eliminated—”

“Imma eliminate your ass if you don’t get the fuck away from me!” Jey’s growing aggressiveness seems to capture the focus of the attendees, current and former players alike. “I don’t know why you’re even here!”

Sami’s eyes go wide as he gestures to himself. “Me? I—” He points toward Solana who has a small frown on her face, seeing where this is headed. “Soso—”

That’s clearly the wrong thing to say, a visibly inebriated Jey snapping yet again, “aye, you don’t call her that! She not your family, motherfucker!.”

Jimmy rolls his eyes, calling out as he prepares yet another plate of food. “Fool, would you calm your ass down.”

“Naw, cause I’m sick of this shit. Sick of him acting like he one of us!”

“Hey, I’m just as much Bloodline as you, Uce!”

Jey shoves Sami, forcing the other man to the ground. “Call me that one more time, and Imma lay your homeless looking ass out!”

Roman’s heavy sigh comes from underneath Solana as he lightly taps her stomach, prompting her to get up so he can stand. She does so, watching him roll his big shoulders and walk over to the now arguing men, deep voice declaring, “enough!”

At that, not a single watchful eye isn’t on Roman. The Tribal Chief. “I’m sick of this shit with the both of ya’ll. You want to act like kids? Then I’m gon’ treat you like kids.” Solana swallows. Everything about her husband is so commanding and powerful. From the way he stands, to the way he speaks, even his presence. One knows who he is without even needing to really know who he is. “I don’t believe in airing shit out in public. I believe in handling it like men or in the ring, but since you two can’t seem to do that, I want you to lay it all out because I want this problem fixed. Right now.” Roman ends his speech with an almost growl, the Wise Man rushing over as Roman turns away, his back toward Jey and Sami, head down, hands clasped together.

Power.

A wide eyed Paul looks between the other men, “the—the Tribal Chief said—”

“Of course,” Sami cuts him off, standing again and looking down a bit as he seems to struggle with how to start. “Well, uhh, okay, umm.” Solana briefly surveys the backyard. From the youngest to the oldest, all eyes are on the scene before her. “I’ll be the first to admit, there’s been a bit of a communication breakdown as of late, and it’s been pretty specifically with Jey, but I gotta be honest, I don’t understand exactly what’s going on here.” Solana neither. She just suddenly remembers it was Jey and Sami who got into it during WarGames all those months ago and still haven’t seemed to hash it out. “I–I like you. Man, I like you. I’ve always liked you. But, it seems ever since I joined the Bloodline, I don’t know what it is, but it seems you can’t seem to stand me, and I don’t understand it.” He motions to Jimmy who’s eating. “Jimmy seems fine.” He points out to each man that he begins to list. “Solo seems fine. The Tribal Chief seems fine. The Wise Man seems….not fine, but that’s okay. Everyone, for the most part, seems fine except you, and I don’t know what I did to offend you. I really don’t. But, whatever I did to offend you, but whatever it is, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “I just don’t want this to keep going on like this anymore.” He steps closer to Jey. “Seriously, I’m sorry. Whatever I did. I’m sorry. So, can we just be cool? Can we bury the hatchet once and for all?” Sami now has his hand extended to Jey. A peace offering, of sorts.

Solana finds herself waiting with a withheld breath, Bayley beside her, watching just as keenly as she is. 

It’s a good minute before Jey speaks. “Sami, you got about two seconds to get that out my face.” There’s a chorus of hushed reactions around the yard, Solana sighing heavily. So much for peace. “I don’t like you.” That much, to anyone with good eyes, is painfully obvious. “I don’t like your hair. I don’t like your face. I don’t like that shirt you wearing.” Solana can admit she found the black shirt with ‘the honorary uce’ written in red letters a bit….much. “Hey, hey! I don’t like you being around my family every single week. My dawg this, My dawg that.” Jey mocks, anger rising in his tone and body language. “How you think you part of the Bloodline, and you ain’t blood!” Solana swallows, redirecting her attention to Roman who has his eyes closed. She can see it. His own wrath growing at his clear directions not being followed. This problem is far from moving in the direction of fixing. “Newsflash for you, Sami. You never will be, Uce. You don’t belong here.” Solana looks back over at Sami, feeling bad for him. To be talked to like this in front of everyone has to be embarrassing. It also makes her feel personally responsible, to some extent.

She maybe shouldn’t have invited him. Especially if she knew how tense things were between him and Jey.

“Don’t nobody in this group like you. I’m just the realest one to say it out loud. You’s a fake ass, Uce.” Damn. “You know what the difference between you and me is? I shed blood for every single one of my family members here, because it’s my family! Not yours!” Silence. “Would you do it? Huh? Would you? I’m asking you a question! Would you—”

‘Why are you yelling at me, huh?” Sami finally cuts in, raising his voice a little as well. “Why are you yelling at me? I’m trying to make peace!” He’s outright shouting at this point, face turning red from his own escalating anger. He then points to Roman. “The Tribal Chief said he wants peace!”

“Man, I don’t give a damn what the Tribal Chief say!”

Solana can’t look at Roman fast enough. Her eyes widening in alarm as his head shoots up, his expression something both shocked and cold. Solana doesn’t rip her gaze from him, seeing how he slowly turns his head and then his body in the direction of Jey, who doesn’t look nearly as terrified as everyone else seems right now.

She’s almost certain she hears Montez mumble something about, “oh, that nigga dead now for sure.” Trick murmuring back, "rip to the homie. yeet for life."

Roman’s fury is palpable, felt and stretched across the spacious backyard. He’ livid. Naturally, she moves to go by him, to try to calm him down. Irritation is one thing, like his annoyance with the party. But, this is something different. Deeper. Heavier.

She doesn’t like seeing him this upset. It worries her for his blood pressure.

However, Bayley suddenly reaches for her, stopping her, subtly shaking her head. Solana starts to pull away when it hits her.

She can’t interfere. 

Because if Roman were to back or even calm down because of her, it would reveal the influence she has on him. It would expose some depth of his feelings for her, and that can’t happen. For a variety of reasons. So, she remains where she is, despite the coiling in her stomach.

She lets the Tribal Chief do what needs to be done.

Sami, surprisingly, is the one to try to interfere as Roman steps closer and closer to Jey, big shoulders squaring, fist forming at his side. “Hey, uhh, My Tribal Chief, Jey didn’t—he didn’t mean that. He just—” Sami is silenced by Roman shoving him nearly across the damn yard, the man tumbling to his bottom looking even more flustered.

But, the focus isn’t on him for long, because before Solana can even process what’s happening, Roman is on Jey. Tackled to the ground, Jey is suddenly under the onslaught of Roman’s heavy fist raining blow on top of blow onto him. 

Solana is momentarily taken off guard, briefly in a state of shock, both at what’s unfolding before her but also the lack of anyone trying to intervene. Even Jimmy. Even Jey’s kids who Naomi tries to herd and steer from seeing their father being so brutally beaten.

She doesn’t know how to feel, what to think, or how to respond. A part of her wants to call out for her husband, try to pull him from his fit of rage, but it’s when she thinks about it, really thinks about, she knows she can’t. 

She could, but it would only make things worse.

Solana hates this for Jey, hates this for her husband, hates this for both of them.

But……she also knows that Jey messed up. Really messed up. To say something so disrespectful is one thing, but to say it so loudly and boldly in front of a group of people is an entirely different ballpark.

Jey publicly disrespected Roman. Disrespected his Tribal Chief in front of people, thus Roman has to address it properly.

And violently.

Jey’s coughing up blood as Roman stomps on his ribs. She has to turn her head, to look away. This is the side of Roman she knows exists but would rather never see. The same way she knows he would prefer she never see either.

“Acknowledge me!” His furious voice travels through the yard and penetrates everyone’s five senses. It also makes Solana realize he’s been saying as such for the past few minutes. Demanding it. “Now!”

Jey is beaten pretty badly, blood spilling from his nose and seeped in between his teeth as he opens his mouth. It’s an ugly thing. All of it. And Solana notices the slight snarl of his lip before he forces out, “I—I acknowledge you—” he coughs up a mixture of phlegm and blood. “My Tribal Chief.”

Roman’s heaving, hulking figure straightens, his hair now down, having come out of his bun. The next thing to come out of his mouth sending chills down her spine. “If you ever disrespect me like that again, I’ll kill you.”

Solana doesn’t want to believe he’s being honest. That he’s telling the truth. She’d prefer to believe that he’s putting on a show of sorts, because he has to. Because he has to show his dominance. But, there’s a part of her that knows he’s not lying.

He means that.

Roman doesn’t look her way as he announces to the crowd, “party’s over!” She wants to be surprised at that, but she’s not. Maybe a bit disappointed. But, not surprised. “Everyone get the hell out of my house!”

He keeps his focus on the house and motions for the Wise Man to follow him as he stomps out, again without sparing her a single look.

Roman only needs to speak once, Solana seeing the people starting to throw their trash away as they clearly prepare to depart.

“This is my fault,” Solana finally speaks, turning to Bayley. Shaking her head, eyes watering, she shares, “I should have never—”

“Solana, it wasn’t your fault.” Bayley places her hands on Solana’s shoulders, explaining. “Jey….Jey should have known better than to say some dumb shit like that. I thought they were past all that.”

At that, Solana frowns, catching out the corner of her eye as Naomi and Jimmy tend to Jey. “What do you mean?”

“Years ago, like when they were in their twenties, Jey and Roman hit some sort of rough patch. I don’t know all the details, just what Naomi told me. But, I guess Jey was being difficult and almost testing Roman, in private and in front of other Bloodline members. It got to the point where Jey even challenged Roman for the title as Tribal Chief.”

Solana gasps. That’s the last thing she expected to hear. Even more surprising than the brutal beatdown she just witnessed. “What?”

Bayley nodded. “It was an in-ring fight, something to do with their Samoan traditions. Obviously, Roman won, and Jey officially acknowledged him. They’ve been fine since then, so I don’t know where that came from or what inspired it, probably the alcohol, but….just know it wasn’t your fault, and I’m sure Roman hated he had to do that in front of you, but he couldn’t just let Jey disrespect him like that.” And then, clearly wanting Solana to understand that Jey actually got off easy, she adds, “if he wasn’t family, Roman would have killed him. He wouldn’t have had a choice.”

And if that was the alternative, Solana is filled with an overwhelming amount of appreciation for what just transpired.

The lesser of two evils. 

“This was exciting!” Abuelita’s enthusiastic tone sounds from beside them, Solana seeing her accompanied by Juanita and Bernardo. “That husband of yours is a beast.” It’s said in an almost complimentary tone.

Bayley rolls her eyes. “Abuelita, please.” She shakes her head, asking Solana, “do you want me to stay behind and help you clean up?”

She thinks about it for a moment, remembering that Roman already arranged to have a cleaning crew handle outside. Inside is relatively easy to tackle. Definitely something she can handle on her own. “No. That’s okay…..I’ve got it.”

Bayley nods and reminds Solana to call her if she needs anything, the Tribal Chief's wife bidding farewell to some of the other attendees before briefly bringing her attention back to Jey. 

Solana happens to catch Solo saying something to Jey, prompting the latter to shove his little brother. Jimmy jumps in, ushering Jey away while Solo smirks. 

She’s curious about whatever it is that Solo said, but she’s mostly focused on Jey. For someone who was objectively in the wrong, he doesn’t look remorseful or contrite.

He looks angry.

————

It’s after everyone has left that Solana seeks out her husband. An intentional thing because she also wants to grant him some space to calm himself down. 

He’s in the bathroom, in the shower, based upon the sound of the running water. 

A glance at Dulce who’s sleeping peacefully in her bed, Solana hasn’t the slightest clue what drives her to go for the hem of her dress as she pulls it up and over her head. It falls to the floor as she reaches behind her to unclasp her bra, also allowing it to fall to the floor. And finally, with a deep breath, she slides her underwear down her legs, letting them join the rest of her clothes.

Stepping out of her shoes, she moves in the direction of the bathroom door, completely ignoring all sudden insecurity regarding her nakedness. Solana closes her eyes and swallows as she carefully opens the door, walking in, eyes shifting to the shower.

As expected, he’s standing there under the running water, back toward her, hands braced against the wall, head dropped.

Solana frowns. She can practically feel his distress.

Closing the door behind her, Solana is intentional about her footsteps, doing her best not to catch his attention. Something that’s highly unlikely but exactly what happens. Even as she steps into the spacious shower, water instantly drenching her just as much as it soaks him due to the several showerheads.

She’s nearly inches away when he turns around, harsh expression instantly melting into something of shock and confusion. Her lips go dry as his gaze briefly drops to her naked body, water droplets rolling off her heavy breast and down the slope of her pudgy belly.

“Solana….” His eyes shut as she moves toward him. Her hands rest on his chest, as she chews on her bottom lip. “I’m—I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” she cuts him off, shaking her head as the water continues to soak her hair, weighing it down just as much as his. “You don’t—it’s okay.”

Eyes opening, his expression is as pained as his voice. “I don’t like you seeing that side of me….” 

She knows. Knows that he’s always tried to be mindful of his temper around her, tried to always and only show her the caring side reserved just for her. But, that’s just it. “There’s no side of you that I don’t love, Roman.”

Because it’s the truth. 

Because if there’s one thing that Solana has learned, especially after meeting and speaking with Fetu, it’s that Roman never stood a chance. From a young child, he was groomed and tailored into the killer he is now. He wasn’t given the space and freedom to ever be anything but the best and to be unfeeling. She’s happy that with her, he has some escape, but she also knows that majority of the time, he can’t be that.

He has to be the Head of the Table.

And that’s exactly who he was in this situation.

Who he had to be.

The Tribal Chief.

“I’m not scared of you, Roman…” She murmurs, wondering if that’s part of the concern. She moves her hands to his cheek, stressing, “I could never be scared of you.” 

He seems relieved by that. But, still torn. Solana’s stomach coils a bit as he moves his hands to her waist and pulls her against him. Her eyes shut feeling his impressive length, even in a flaccid state, against her stomach. 

It gives her an idea.

Dropping one hand and venturing it down his chiseled, wet body, Solana shoves away her nerves as she touches him, wraps her fingers around him as best she can given his girth.

Roman hisses, eyes closing again. “Solana….”

He’s so good to her, always so good to her. She just wants to return the favor. Wants to take away some of his burdens the same way he never hesitates to take away hers.

Gradually sliding her hand down his dick, feeling his grip on her hips tightening—as well as the hardening in her hand—she licks her lips and murmurs a simple request. 

“Show me how to please you……”

————

After their lovemaking in the shower, Solana manages to encourage Roman to take a nap, recognizing his exhaustion from the day’s events. Something he only agrees to because she agrees to nap with him. Not that much of a sacrifice considering she’s probably just as exhausted as him.

And it’s clearly much needed sleep for her husband who doesn’t even stir when she moves to take Dulce outside to pee.

It just so happens that Solana is about to ascend the staircase, Dulce ahead of her and already heading back to the room courtesy of Jimmy teaching her how to go up and down the steps, that she hears the doorbell. She pauses on the first step, quickly and mentally going over who could be ringing their doorbell at almost 10pm at night.

She starts to ignore it, not sure if it’s a good idea to open it, but Solana also remembers the gate. The secured gate as well as security that constantly patrols the premises. No one who Roman wouldn’t want getting past, for safety reasons, would be ringing their doorbell. 

Especially this late.

It’s why she eventually settles on closing her up the front of her robe and walking over to the door, opening it. And when she does, she’s instantly wondering if it was a good idea. Two men. Both tall. Very tall. Built. One moderately more built than the other. Both their complexions are tanned, but the man with the bald head wearing expensive looking glasses and half a sleeve that peeks through his short sleeve polo is a brick. 

Solana has always thought Roman to be muscular, but this man could give her husband a run for his money.

It’s the other man though, long hair pulled back in a slightly messy bun. Similar to how Roman keeps his hair. It’s as he lifts his sunglasses from off his face and sets it atop of his head that she sees something so familiar. 

Eerily familiar. 

“Hi.” She finally finds her voice, clearing her throat as she asks, “can I help you with something?”

“We’re looking for Roman.” The familiar looking one speaks with a slightly thick accent as he asks with a small smirk. “Is he home?”

Solana’s not sure where it comes from, but something almost protective fills her as her grip on the door tightens just a bit. “What—what do you want with my husband?”

The slightly taller one smiles “Solana.” He lazily rakes his eyes over her in a way that’s not objectively problematic but makes her shift her weight from one leg to the other. “Of course.” She’s not sure how to feel about him knowing who she is, but it’s a short lived concern, because not even a full minute later, a welcome familiarity appears.

“Sol.” Roman’s deep voice calls her attention, startling her. She turns around to see him only a few steps above the ground, shirtless, wearing only dark joggers. Slowly, he steps down to the floor and she naturally moves beside him. Solana holds onto his arm as he focuses his attention on the two men. His face shifts into something of surprise. “What the hell are you two doing here?”

The one who identified her by name chuckles. “Good to see you too, cousin.”

Solana frowns. 

Cousin?

“Solana.” He looks down for a second, gesturing to the other two. “These are my….my cousins. Dwayne and Matteo.”

There’s a brief look of something in Matteo’s face, something that’s pushed away as he offers an almost charismatic smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Solana.” His eyes twinkle almost as he asks. “Solana….that’s Spanish, right? Sunshine?”

Her smile is a bit less reluctant to appear. He seems so…..pleasant. “It is. Do you speak it?”

“I do. One of the languages I picked up in my younger years. A beautiful language.”

She’s taken back by him speaking to her in Spanish but naturally, she responds in the same language. “Yes, it is. You speak it well.”

“Well, thank you. I take it you are native?”

She nods. “My mom was Mexican. She taught me.”

“What the fuck are you saying to her?” Roman cuts in, irritation present in his deep voice. “Speak English.” She keeps herself from rolling her eyes. A playful thing in intention but something that could be perceived as disrespectful, she’s certain. “Answer my question. What are you doing here?”

Solana is also partially curious what could have apparent cousins at their front door at such an hour. Something tells her it’s nothing good.

“We need to talk.” Dwayne answers, smile wiped from his face, tone solid and firm.

Solana looks up when she feels Roman tap her hip. Voice dipping a bit in volume, he instructs, “go upstairs.”

She’s not sure why, but there’s a level of anxiety that forms following his instruction. It makes sense. He clearly needs to talk business, and that’s something she doesn’t need to be present for. But, there’s something about leaving him alone with these two random men that makes her feel scared.

Scared for him.

She doesn’t want to leave him.

Roman must recognize this, thumb gently and subtly moving over her hip. “Go.” It’s firmer this time around, but she hears it. Hears the unspoken please in it.

Nodding, she offers Dwayne and Matteo a small smile. “It–it was nice meeting you.”

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t be the last time,” Matteo answers, eyes briefly flicking to Roman. “We are family, after all.”

Solana sees the slight snarl of Roman’s lip and almost palms his cheek, a comforting gesture when she remembers where they are and who they’re in front of. Clearing her throat, she instead takes heed to his guidance, moving up the steps and into their bedroom where she closes the door.

Solana is barely out of the line of vision when Dwayne, who had his eyes glued on her retreating figure, the switch of her hips and sway of her ass the entire time, comments to Roman, “I see why you haven’t come yet.” He smirks, heading in the direction of Roman’s office. “At least not to Italy.”

Roman gives a chuckling Matteo a look that could kill, if possible, walking without another word to his office where Dwayne already sits, plopped on the sofa.

“What happened?” Is the first thing Roman asks after sitting down at his desk. Because Dwayne wouldn’t have come all this damn way for something that could be covered in a phone or video call.

Matteo smirks. “Maybe he missed home.” 

Roman glares. It’s bad enough he has to be around him at his official office but now the fucker is in his home too. Today has just been a complete shitshow. “And maybe I should put a fucking bullet in your head.”

Dwayne sighs. “Brothers.” But, before Roman can spear him through the nearest wall, Dwayne gets to business. “We have a problem.”

“Obviously,” Roman hisses. “What is the problem is is what I want to know.”

“We had a shipment infiltrated. Stolen. 7 figures worth of arms. Eight men killed,” Matteo explains, cutting right to the chase as he sits in the chair opposite Roman’s desk. “IT found a phone on the scene. Russian.”

“The Russians?” At that, Roman scowls. “That doesn’t even make any sense. Our alliance with them has been strong for almost twenty years. Why would Knyazev risk that?”

Anatoly Knyazev. Leader of the Russian mob, the same man Roman secured and formed an alliance with as one of his first accomplishments as Capo. The older man is smart, seasoned, and practical, for all things considered. He rules ruthlessly but wisely. For them to interfere in Cosa Nostra business makes no sense whatsoever. 

“I agree,” Matteo voices. “But, the administration isn’t happy. The loss of product is one thing, but our men’s blood being spilled is another thing entirely.”

Roman curses quietly. Product can be replaced. Lives can’t. And while Roman feels nothing of the sort, the Administration views any and all members of the Cosa Nostra as family. From the little man to their top assassins. Loss of life is something they don’t stand for.

At all.

“They want vengeance,” Dwayne supplies, clearly reading Roman’s mind. 

“They’re not going to do shit,” Roman growls, slamming his fist on the table. “The last thing we need is a war with our biggest ally.”

Especially with very little proof outside of a damn phone that very well could have been staged, which is exactly what Roman is betting on. 

“I agree,” Dwayne sounds, “but guess who’s going around trying to instigate?” 

Roman doesn’t even have to think. “Luca.” This fucker has always been annoying, even in the few interactions Roman had with him, but now he’s older and even more annoying. Starting shit that Roman is going to have to deal with, and if there’s one thing Roman hates, it’s having to clean up other people’s messes. 

Matteo nods, leaning forward in his chair. “I told you. He wants you out. Bad. Personally, I think he was behind it.” Roman’s intrigue must show, his desire to hear more, proven by his continued silence. The other man explains. “You were right in that the business is the best it’s ever been under your command, but if he can change that, can make it seem like we’re starting to fall off the top of the food chain. Make it seem like you don’t care about the Cosa Nostra—”

“He can make a case to uproot me,” Roman finishes in a dark tone. 

“Or worse,” Dwayne adds, shaking his head. “Look, Roman. It’s obvious there’s some shit going on that we haven’t figured out, but until then, we have to be careful. Matteo and I are the only ones who seem to find the Russians deciding to start shit after years of partnership fishy. And to be honest, we need to keep it that way. Keep our speculation between us, because we don’t know who we can trust. Especially with Luca’s ass in the background scheming.” Dwayne leans back in his seat. “The Administration wants a briefing though. Wants to know how we proceed. If we strike back. And they’re not going to want to hear shit from the mixed breeds. At least not Matteo and I.”

Roman looks away, already knowing what’s coming.

“You need to go there. Make a statement. Not a phone call or video conference. In person. Make your orders clear. Reaffirm and remind them that you’re the Capo.” Matteo isn’t saying anything Roman doesn’t already know. Not that makes hearing it any better. “You can’t push this off anymore, Roman.”

“He’s right,” Dwayne agrees. “The longer you wait, the more it looks like your priorities are for the Bloodline only. That you’re only capable of running one, meaning it’s time for new leadership.”

His words drip with a truth that only has Roman’s anger rising. “Unfortunately, because it’s clear there’s an uprising brewing, you coming now puts you at higher risk for an assassination attempt. You’ll have to travel covertly. I’ll take care of that. I just need you to get on the damn plane.”

None of that is surprising as Roman provides his timeline. “Two weeks.” Both Matteo and Dwayne seemed far from pleased at this. Oh fucking well. “I have Bloodline business to handle next week. I can leave the week after.”

It’s not a lie. Jey’s little stunt will require a more public display of dominance, and what better way to remind everyone of who runs things than a public execution?

It’s time to grant Drew MCIntyre that match he’s been so desperate to have. Roman having his Wise Man make the arrangements earlier following Jey’s outburst.  

“Fine. Two weeks,” Matteo relents. As if he had a choice. “You’ll need to stick around at least a week. Or two. A day or two appearance will give off the indication you’re uninterested and being performative.” Again, not something Roman doesn’t already know, but again again, there’s an issue. A huge issue.

Solana.

It’s only been two weeks since she completed treatment and returned home from the residential facility. But, in those two weeks she’s expressed on several occasions the best thing about being back home is being with him.

With Roman.

And now he has to leave her. Has to handle business. Dangerous business. A situation that could very well end up in some type of attempt on his life.

That doesn’t bother him. Roman’s been attacked and the subject of assassination attempts his whole damn life. It’s almost boring to him at this point.

What does bother him, however, is Solana knowing about this. Knowing the real reason why he has to fly halfway across the world seemingly out of nowhere. 

Which is why she can’t know.

He can’t and won’t put that on her. She already worries about him. If she knew the real reason for the trip, she’d be terrified and beg him to not go. And not going simply isn’t an option anymore. He’s almost wishing he had just gone before. 

It might have been a hell of a lot easier leaving her then compared to now when there’s so much more at stake.

Fuck.

“This conversation needs to remain between the three of us. No one else.” Matteo’s reminder irks Roman. He’s not fucking stupid.

Dwayne senses Roman is about to say some out of pocket shit, cutting in, “Matteo. You said you may have some contacts to further investigate what really happened with the shipment, right? Reach out. See what you can find.”

Matteo nods, smirk on his handsome face. “Already on it.” 

Dwayne mirrors his expression. “Good.” He then gestures to Roman. “Let me talk to this asshole alone, please.”

Matteo scoffs quietly, standing up and adjusting his collar. “My pleasure.” He shoots his younger, half brother a wry grin. “Your wife is much better company than you.”

Roman shoots up from his desk, wanting to pitch something after Matteo’s laughing, retreating form.

“I like that guy,” Dwayne also laughs, lifting his hands in a surrender motion when Roman directs his murderous gaze to him. “Still a sensitive subject, I see.”

Roman plops back down in his chair, looking off as he asks his cousin, “you trust him?”

Dwayne’s answer is almost an instantaneous thing. “Wouldn’t have sent him here or brought him to your house if I didn’t.” It’s similar to his response when Roman first inquired about Matteo being sent as the ‘spy’ for the Cosa Nostra. “We’re gonna have to play this careful, Roman. I can’t describe it yet, but I got a feeling some shit is about to go down.”

Roman doesn't say anything, but that doesn’t mean he’s not listening. Not planning. Strategizing. 

“Solana….” The change in subject takes him a bit by surprise. “How she doing?”

Discussing certain details regarding Solana and her mental health is something few are privy to. Roman can count on one, maybe two hands who knew Solana has been away receiving mental health treatment. To most, she was hurt and shot that night at the lounge and has been away recovering. That’s the story Roman wanted put out in an effort to protect her privacy.

But, Dwayne is one of those few who knows the truth about where she’s been.

And why she was there.

“Better.” A part of him wants to say much better, because she seems that way, but he also doesn’t want to get too comfortable. To let his guard down. “She said it helped a lot. Medication seems to be making a difference too.”

“Good. She seems sweet.”

“She is.” The kindest person Roman has ever met. Much too kind for someone like him.

Dwayne sits back in his seat, wolfish grin on his face. “That’s a fine woman you got there, brotha.” And just like that, Roman’s older cousin is teetering the thin line between life and death. “Not sure I’d want to leave her either.” Brows furrowed, Dwayne asks, “what’s the Bloodline business?”

Roman quickly catches his cousin up on today’s events. Jey’s disrespect, mostly. 

Dwayne’s response, however, is another thing Roman wasn’t entirely expecting. “You did what you had to do. Jey knows how this goes. He brought it on himself.”

There’s not a ton of disagreement there. Doesn’t make him feel much better about it though.

“Well,” Dwayne releases a heavy sigh, standing up after slapping his thighs. “I better get out of here. That son of a bitch Austin owes me a beer.”

Roman chuckles. “Just one?”

Dwayne’s smile is as mischievous as whatever he has planned once walking out that door. “Or two.”

A smile breaks on Roman’s face as he stands up, sharing a brief hug with his cousin. He has a strong feeling the next time he sees him will be on Italian soil. “Be safe.”

“I’m not the one with a bounty over my head, brotha.” It’s both comical and serious at the same time, in only the way Dwayne can achieve. “Tell that fine ass wife of yours I said goodnight.”

At that, Roman cuts his eyes, shoving his chuckling cousin away. “Shut the fuck up.”

Giving himself a few minutes to settle and push away any sign of stress or frustration, it’s not until about ten minutes later that he returns to the bedroom.

Roman is unsurprised to find Solana sitting on the middle of the bed, earbuds in, writing away in her journal. However, she’s almost immediately aware of his presence, ripping out those same buds and shutting her notebook. She’s instantly climbing off the bed and walking over to him.

“Are you okay?” Her hands ghost over his arms, as if she’s trying to feel for some sort of injury. “What was that about?”

He shrugs. “Just business stuff.” Not a lie. Just a very vague answer.

“This late?” Truth be told, the work never stops in this life, but he knows that’s not exactly what she’s referring to. “It’s—it’s something bad, isn’t it?”

“No.” The answer—a lie—comes out much easier and smoother than he’d like it to. “Just something that needs to be handled, and I’ll handle it.”

 “But—”

“Hey.” He brings his hands to her waist, sneaking them past the open robe she wears, partially wanting to take it off her entirely. The two piece pajamas she has on deserve to be seen and not cloaked in any way. “Everything’s okay. Alright?”

She still looks concerned, and he hates that. Hates all of this. The lying to her, especially. “You would….you would tell me if it wasn’t….right?”

No.

That’s what he wants to say. The truth. Roman would and will absolutely keep anything and everything from her if it meant/means keeping her safe. Even if it makes her upset with him. He’ll deal with that.

He’ll take it any day, because her safety is the most important thing to him. 

Mentally and physically. 

“Yes.” Even if it makes him have an almost visceral reaction at having to lie to her like this. Even if it is for the better. “But nothing’s wrong, so there’s no need to worry, alright?” 

He needs to tell her about the trip. That he has to leave in two weeks. There’s definitely no way around that, but it doesn’t need to happen tonight. Especially when he needs to work out the details and logistics, because Roman’s been administering Solana’s medication to her every morning since her release. She doesn’t even know where he keeps it, where he keeps any of the prescription and OTC pills in the house. Because he has them all hidden, something he’s not sure he’ll ever feel ready enough to change.

He also takes her to her continued weekly therapy appointments with Gail.

All of that can’t be interrupted with his absence, but the same person he called before to stay with her while he was gone to see his aunt is the same person he still holds partially responsible for Solana’s attempt in the first place.

Bayley.

Roman won’t make that mistake ever again.

So, until all of that is figured out, he’ll say nothing.

Plus, he already feels bad enough for ruining her party. No need to ruin her night as well.

At least with the party thing, he can make that up. He will make that up. Even if it means what he has planned including more people than he originally accounted for. The thought alone is far from exciting, but he’s determined to do right by her this time around.

Even if it does mean forcing himself to behave.

Somewhat.

Solana is visibly less anxious, but the remaining apprehension seems to melt away the minute she presses herself into his chest. She’s instantly relaxed and so is he. Having her in his arms seems to give him just as much comfort as she gets from it.

“Roman?”

He runs his hand across her back. “Hmm?”

Peering up at him is a mixture of skepticism and worry. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Not exactly. “You said you’d try talking to me more.”

He did. And he will, but the full extent of what is now on his plate is a weight he can’t and won’t share with her. He won’t burden her with his woes. 

He can, however, give her something.

“Jey…..” Because that’s most definitely not a lie. The shit with Jey was the last thing he expected to happen today. Almost as unexpected as Dwayne’s visit. “The twins annoy me majority of the time, but they’re still….still my family.”

“You didn’t want to do that, Roman.” Solana is suddenly comforting him, her soft voice offering what he already knows to be true but appreciates hearing. “You……you didn’t have a choice. Jey….Jey should understand, right?”

“Should.” There’s a conflicted hint to his voice, because Jey should have known better than to disrespect Roman like that in front of an audience. Because truth be told, Roman would not have responded so violently had it even just been the usual group of Naomi, Bayley, and Jimmy. Even the Wise Man. Roman would have preferred a different, less physical route, but that wasn’t an option. The ‘choice’ Roman made was really the only choice he could make without looking weak in front of others.

Solana hugs him a little tighter, continuing to put him on a pedestal he has no business being on. “You’re a good man, Roman. I know….I know you don’t believe it, but you are.” 

That’s because she has no idea a fraction of the things that he’s done. If she truly knew the horrors he’s committed over the years, the lives he’s taken, she’d never look at him the same.

He sometimes wonders if she’d even still feel the same way.

If she’d still love him.

Solana leans up and kisses his cheek before taking his hand in hers. Sliding her robe off and tossing it onto the bed, she murmurs, “let’s go to bed.” Roman wordlessly follows her over to the California King bed, watching her move her journal and case for her earbuds onto the nightstand as she pulls him down with her. Naturally, Solana falls into their go-to sleeping position. Her body nearly on top of his, her arm sprawled across his abdomen and her head on his chest.

She’s partially soothed by the way he keeps his hand planted on the small of her back. Partially because something tells her Roman isn’t being entirely honest about whatever conversation he had with his cousins she’s never even heard of until this evening. In all the time they’ve been together, she doesn’t remember once anyone ever coming to their home this late to discuss business. 

Maybe a phone call.

Never an in-person visit. 

A part of her wants to push him on it, but she also knows the Jey situation is still bothering him, so she doesn’t want to overwhelm him. 

But, the other part, maybe an even bigger part doesn’t want to because it feels hypocritical. Him to be honest with her when she’s not being entirely honest with him. When she actually wanted to tell him something instead of asking again if he’s alright.

A split second decision being made to keep certain information to herself until she’s 100% sure, because she knows that he’ll most likely have to inform the Elders he’s spoken about a couple of times. And the last thing she wants is to send him with a message that ends up being a false alarm.

Because her period has been late before. Sometimes up to two weeks late. It’s just that this is the first time it’s been late with her being sexually active. With her having regular sex with her husband as a potential variable. Regular, unprotected sex.

But again, she’s not certain. Wants to give it a little while longer before she finally pulls out one of the pregnancy tests she’s had collecting dust in one of the cabinets in their master bathroom. It’s too soon though. Too many other things it could be besides that.

So, until then, she waits.

She’ll wait until it’s 100% confirmed, without a doubt, that she’s pregnant.

Ignoring that small, nagging gut feeling that she already knows the answer.

Knows that she is, without a doubt, pregnant.