#you just have to know where to find works of that nature

[thesoftuglywrites]

Baby, Both Arms Cradle You Now

Based on this headcanon of mine.

Reader insert is afab and referred to as such.

WC: 2.3 K

As you stood at the kitchen counter, chopping up the vegetables that would be used for the dinner that you were preparing for both you and your husband, you heard the front door open, signifying that Kento has just come home from work.

"Tadaima."

"Okaeri!" you called out, not looking up from the cutting board, the greeting ritual second nature to you.

You heard him shrug off his suit jacket, then followed by the harness that held his blunt knife. You felt his presence behind you as he wrapped his arms around your trunk and leaned his face into the junction of your neck and your shoulder. "Hey, you," he cooed.

You turned your head and pressed a quick peck to his cheek as he rested his face in the crook of your neck. "Hi. How was your day?"

“Oh, you know. Dealt with a grade one curse with Ino-kun and Itadori-kun, filed some paperwork, enjoyed the bento that you made. Same old, same old.” He returned the affections by peppering the top of your shoulder with small pecks. "How are you and baby doing?"

"Just peachy." You set the knife down and gently patted the top of your bump.

At eight, almost nine, months pregnant with your first child, your abdomen had protruded outwards to a length that you’ve never seen it reach before. With the extra weight due to the life that grew inside of you, came the aches in your joints and the strain on your lower back. Not to mention the en masse of hormones that wreaked havoc on you on a daily basis, finding yourself nauseous at the smells and aromas of foods that were once your favorite dishes to consume, ravenous for the most unorthodox food combinations, and among various other things.

Kento had been an absolute pillar of support for you during this time for you. Early in the mornings where you wound up at the rim of the toilet bowl, while at the complete mercy of your irritable stomach, he would be right beside you, holding back your hair and offering affectionate words of support. Kento would wordlessly take your feet into his lap whenever the two of you would be sitting on the couch in the den, and attempt to massage away the inflamed tissue on your feet and ankles. Whenever the peculiar food cravings would hit you, whether it be in the middle of the day or the middle of the night, he would conjure up whatever you were desiring, and would immediately start getting the pots and pans out of the cabinets, no questions asked.

No matter what you may have needed or wanted, your husband provided it for you to the best of his ability.

He would attempt to be present at every check up that you would have whenever his work schedule would allow him, desperate to know how their child was growing and developing. The ultrasound appointments were a non-negotiable, in his mind, to be absent of. Every time that the little black blob formed on the ultrasound monitor, Kento could have sworn that they hung the moon and stars in his world. The very first time that a 3D rendition was able to be formatted from an ultrasound, he immediately asked for a second copy, aside from the one that you would pin up to your kitchen refrigerator, so that he could tuck away it into his wallet.

"Do you need any help at all?" He murmured, not moving from his spot as he tucked his face back into the crook of your neck. You felt his hands wander farther forward, gently grasping at the front of your abdomen as he spread his fingers outward.

You relished in his touch, feeling yourself become more at ease and relaxed as you allowed yourself to indulge in his warmth. As he draped himself over your backside and your baby bump, you could quite literally hear the gears turning in his head as he plotted out his next move. "Mmm… no, I’m almost done. Do you wanna get out the plates and silverware while I finish up?"

"In a moment, darling. Wanna love on you for just a second."

A soft smile formed on your face, knowing what was to follow. You could felt his palms gingerly grasp your belly as Kento lifted your bump upwards, slowly but surely relieving the strain on you, your lower back, and your joints, allowing him to take on the brunt of the extra weight that your baby had upon your body. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief at the sudden release of the tension upon you.

It had become Kento’s "thing", per se, once your bump started to take form. Initially it had started as a routine for him to help ease the ailments that you felt throughout your body, but as time went on, it became more and more intimate for him. In his own sort of way, Kento came to view it as him holding his child before anyone else could.

What a strange, paradox these hands were; that this man was. Hands that have trained to skillfully handle his blunt knife with deadly accuracy and precision that could deal devastating blows to curses and curse users alike; hands that have been doused in the blood of exorcised curses, and knuckles that have been bruised and corroded in combat.

To the outside world, at least.

With you, however, it was as stark as night and day.

Behind closed doors, where Kento could drop the stern and austere facade that he bared to the rest of society, he was tender. He held you with such cautious regard, even before you were pregnant.

In the moments where you both were emboldened in the bedroom, with a flurry of heated kisses and and fleeting touches that were shared between the two of you, he was always so careful with you; never once has he intentionally hurt you. It was with gentle motions and actions, so ingrained into him after having spent many years with you, that you allowed him to tuck away stray hairs behind your ears, so he could better see your face. It was with affectionate fingers that you allowed him to slide your wedding band onto the fourth digit of your left hand as you two were stood at the altar of your wedding ceremony.

Kento was a kind man. In these shared moments, you were so thankful and blessed that you allowed this man to hold your heart.

He leaned slightly forward into you, his body now covering yours somewhat, seeking out more of your warmth that your body offered him. Kento gently nudged his face forward more into the juncture of your neck, the tip of his nose slightly tickled by your stray baby hairs. Feeling the strain in his arms from holding your bump, he delicately lowered you back down, relieving the tension on him, but once again burdening you with the weight.

"Missed you today," he sighed, pressing a kiss to the spot right behind the shell of your ear.

A soft, breathy chuckle escaped from you, craning your head to meet his besotted eyes. "Missed you, too."

Four weeks later...

Your body burned and ached with a fury that you've never experienced before, sweat drenching every crevice and contour of your body. You were laid upon the hospital bed, utterly spent and deadbeat tired after having gone through a thirteen hour labor that ended in the early hours of the morning when you could hear the shrill cries of your newborn daughter after she was expelled from you.

It was a grueling process that you weren't entirely too sure if you ever wanted to put yourself through that ever again, the mental and physical aspects of it taking its toll on you as your body tried to meet the equilibrium that it had before your child was even a concept; the end result, nonetheless, was worth its weight in gold.

It had been at least three hours since the birth, the hospital staff having since departed your room, the maternity nurse doing occasional rounds to check in on you as you rested, giving you and Kento some breathing room and privacy with her; you, the opportunity to recover after having your body quite literally split open.

Through a heavy-lidded gaze, you observed your husband as he cradled the bundle of blankets that enclosed your daughter in his hold. Her microscopic hand wrapped around his extended pinky, tiny coos could be heard from where you were settled.

Kento didn't say anything to her. He didn't need to. The look of pure adoration and devotion that he held in his eyes was enough to tell you that he was absolutely smitten with her.

"Is she everything that you were hoping for, Ken?" you asked, a small smile beginning to form on your face as you watched your husband gently rock her back and forth in his arms, trying to lull her to sleep.

Kento raised his eyes from your daughter to look at you, his smile mirroring yours. "And then some, darling." He approached the bassinet that was beside your bed and gingerly placed your daughter in there as if she were made of glass, allowing her to sleep undisturbed. He then turned to you, and placed a kiss to your forehead. "You should get some rest. If she wakes up, I'll tend to her. You've got to be exhausted after all of that."

Your gaze shifted from the bassinet to meet his, concern etched into his features as he discerned your current condition. You also noticed that the bags underneath his eyes had darkened to a point where you might have considered them to be bruises instead. His hair was rather unkempt upon his head, instead of the put together side part that he normally sported. Even when he tried to hide it, he couldn't do away with the weariness.

Just as it had been for you, it, too, had been a long thirteen hours for him, as well.

"I should be telling you that," you weakly quipped. You shuffled yourself to the side of your bed, even though your body screamed in protest with every movement that you made, opening up a space beside you. "Come here," you beckoned, patting the space beside you.

He deadpanned. "I'm not getting into bed with you."

"Kento-"

"No."

"-you need to get some-"

"Absolutely not."

"'sleep, dammit-"

"I am more than capable of sleeping on the couch, and don't curse in front of our daughter."

"Kento," you exasperated, your facial expression mirroring your tone, pausing him in his rebuttal. "I will be fine. I promise you. Can you please just cuddle your worn out wife to sleep? Please?"

You could see the internal debate play out on his face as his eyebrows furrowed together. "I don't wish to hurt you, though..."

"You won't. I assure you that I can handle it."

A beat of silence passed as he stared at you, before releasing a quiet, relenting sigh, reaching down to release the bedside rail. "You will let me know the second that you start to hurt, do you understand me?"

You nodded, watching with eager anticipation as Kento gingerly climbed up beside you, trying not to rustle you around too much. He lowered himself next to you, doing his best to be as gentle as he possibly can. "Don't turn your body onto its side, just keep laying supine right now. Raise your head for me." He extended one of his arms out to you, positioning it behind your head, letting his bicep and tricep act as a support for you. "This is the most I'll allow. Anything else is off limits."

You scooted closer to him, burrowing yourself into his side, giving you a chance to embrace the warmth that his body offered him. The two of you laid together in a comfortable silence, listening to the steady hum of the machines that surrounded you, along with occasional alarm that would sound off every now and then.

"I never did say thank you, by the way."

You glanced at him, subtle confusion coloring your face. "What do you need to thank me for?"

He craned his head to look down at you, an adoring expression in his eyes as his hand enclosed around yours to bring it to the center of his chest, his thumb softly stroking the backside of your hand, along the rough ridges of your knuckles. "For continuously putting up with me and my set in ways? For allowing me to be in your life? For being my wife? For being the mother of my child? Need I go on?"

Heat flushed throughout your entire being as Kento went through his list, a bashful smile forming. "You're disgustingly romantic, I hope you know that."

"I've been told a time or two."

A knock at the door to your room interrupted the intimate moment between you two.

"Come in!" Kento called out, giving permission to whoever was outside.

Your nurse peaked their head into the room, a sheepish look on their face. "I'm sorry to disturb you guys, but someone has come to visit. I wasn't entirely too sure if you two were up to taking visitors, so I thought I would ask beforehand."

You and Kento exchanged a look, unsure of who could be visiting you so early in the morning. Also, how would anyone know where you were, given the fact that neither you or Kento have told anyone that you had gone into labor.

"Who's come to visit?" Kento prodded, his gaze quizzical as he pushed himself up off the mattress into an erect position.

"A blindfolded man named Gojo Satoru?"

"No. Absolutely not."

[luminni]

Crawling back to John after your "one night stand" but he was just as obsessed as you were. Pt.1 Pt.2

You regretted it from the moment you stepped out of his flat. You really didn't know why you did it either, somehow it just felt natural for you to leave in the morning despite your heart screaming at you to stay there wrapped under wool sheets and locked in his embrace. You just slipped away early in the morning and now you had to live with the consequences. That being the fact John Price would not leave your mind. You went on holiday break just days after the night you spent together, and spending a month where you knew you weren't even the same city as the man who had given you the best night of your life and had treated you so delicately at the same time, was driving you insane. Every waking moment was filled with memories of your casual conversation and teasing jokes. When you dreamed, that is when you could fall asleep and not be in a spiral of regret, it was as if he possessed some otherworldly claim on your body because there was no other explanation for you reliving the pleasure night after night. Not to mention the fact that you couldn't get the jazzy tune of the record you had decided to throw on out of your head, constantly humming along to it and murmuring the words the best you could. But you just couldn't find the song no matter how hard you searched, it was eating away at you, and from where you were, there was nothing you could do.

John wasn't much better. Devastated would have been an understatement if you were trying to describe how he felt after waking up to an empty bed. In the beginning he really tried to ignore his feelings, bury them under work and absentmindedness as he so often did. But it came back to bite him in the ass, every time he got stressed he could only imagine having your sweet voice calling him to bed or telling him you made a fresh pot of tea. When he tried to get in his truck to go back to base for a change of pace, your name and phone popping up in his bluetooth menu the moment he turned on the ignition was like a slap back to reality. The reality that he had genuinely believed you might stick around and stay with him, a reality that had been shattered (and no he definitely did not remove your phone, not just because he didn't know how to). You were driving him mad at work too, the team had never seen their cap' with such an abhorrent attitude. Poor Soap and his usually endearing antics were usually the subject of his anger but nobody was safe. Ghost was sighing too loud and Gaz's use of the wrong mug was suddenly criminal.

" 'M tellin' ye mate, never seen the cap'n so...snarly." Soap complained after being told off for what would have usually been a harmless jab.

"Maybe yer' jus' not funny bruv, ever think a tha'?" Gaz was half listening but more focused on scrolling on his phone.

" 'S not tha' ya half-whit, he's been a dick with the lot'f us." The scot bit back, "Almost tore Lt. a new one fer' slammin' a door."

There was a grunt of agreement from the corner of the room and the boys continued to bicker about what could possibly have their captain so worked up but solutions could be agreed upon.

The only person he didn't snap at was Laswell and that was just because she would snap right back, and snap back meaner. When Price was being particularly sharp about a document not being ready on time she let loose, in front of the team.

"Look, John, I don't know what's got you acting so anal to everyone here, but clean up your attitude and fucking fix whatever the hells got you like this before I write you up for workplace harassment." She snapped, muttering the last part under her breath.

And John would have loved to have been able to fix his mood but he didn't know how to. You were lodged in his mind and wouldn't let him go. That slow, bass heavy song you played in the car replayed over and over in his head every time he thought of you. Your voice and the way you felt wrapped around him, but he couldn't for the life of him find the name of the damn song.

And so the slow and agonizing month away from uni dragged until you were back at school. You thought getting back into the rhythm of your classes and work would help you rid yourself of his memory. But no, you could barely focus in class when all your thoughts were of the way he whispered in your ear and opened doors for you. Against your (and your friends) better judgement you began to try and track him down. Retracing your steps from the bar and scouring google maps, even going so far as to search up his name, to no avail. All your friends told you to give up, that some man twice your age wasn't worth it, but you didn't give up, you couldn't. Finally you found a promising looking building on your maps app that you were able to retrace to his flat, looking exactly like you remembered. You didn't waste a second, grabbing your bag in a frenzy the moment you recognized the building.

Fighting with yourself the whole way there, debating every step you took. He might not even be there? He was in the military. Would he even want to see you? What if had wanted you to leave in the first place? It didn't really matter when you were navigating the stairs up to his place and standing in front of the door at 10:00 in the morning. It felt like lifting a 50 pound weight just to raise your hand and knock on his door, and you regretted everything the second you did.

Seconds later, the door knob turned and revealed a sleepy looking and shirtless John who was nonchalantly leaning against the door frame, a bowl of cereal in one hand and a spoon in the other. Don't let him fool you though, it was all an act, on the inside this man was freaking out and absolutely ecstatic to have his pretty bird fly right back into hands.

"Uh...hi." you gulped, trying to look anywhere but his built chest that you remembered the feeling of like it was yesterday.

"How was the break?" He asked, looking down his nose at you with a slightly amused expression that pissed you off, just slightly.

"Look," you started exasperatedly, "I just- I came, well I wanted to-" You could barely get the sentence out as he took a bite of his cereal, leaving the spoon in the bowl.

"C'mere," He said through bites, ushering in you in even as you shifted away, " 'M not going'ta letcha' stand out in the hallway."

And so he ushered you back into his flat, the exact same one you remembered, the record you had played was still on the player.

"Can I getcha' anything?" He asked, leaning against the kitchen table, still working on that bowl of cereal.

"No I'm fine." you responded curtly, leaning against the back of the couch across from him.

He looked like he was about to say something but you cut him off, "Look, I don't even know what I'm doing here but I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, about that night. It's been weeks and- and I keep replaying that moment in my mind, the moment before I left- and I just wish I had stayed or something. And I don't know why I'm here- I thought about turning back my whole way here and I think somethings wrong with me because I've never felt like this but I should have just left it alone- but I didn't and I don't-"

You heard the sound of the bowl clattering onto the table before suddenly his lips were on yours, silencing your ramblings and relaxing as he felt you melt into him. All your worries suddenly forgotten now that his hands were on you.

When he parted for air, he rested his forehead against yours murmuring "You 'ave no idea how much 've been missing you my sweet girl, drivin' me fuckin' crazy without'ya." against your skin with a kind of quiet earnestness you had only dreamed of.

You couldn't hold back and began to let out shaking sobs against his chest, hiccuping out "I-I'm sorry for l-leaving, I- I just."

"Shhh s'all right." He cooed, rubbing his hands up and down your back, just happy to have you in his arms again.

When you calmed down enough to pull back and look at him with your tear stained face he smiled, stroking your cheek, "You might want to get ready." He whispered

"Ready f-for what?" You sniffled

" 'M takin' you out on a proper date."

A/n: Old man Price consumes me more and more everyday

[ravens-bird]

"You really want to test me right now?" - Zayne.

Pairing: Zayne x F!Reader/MC

Tags: Boyfriend Zayne, uh not-quite-smut smut, oral F!receiving, kissing, fingering, thought of adding semi-exhibitionism, but i have no brain juice left - it's literally 3am. "Love" used as nickname

wc: 1.5k.

Note: Y'all... Guess who just had a dream and decided to write this right after 😮‍💨 Definitely not proofread 🦦 (I don't know what happened, the post got fucked zo repost)

You arrive at Akso Hospital and make your way to the receptionist’s desk, finding Yvonne sorting through paperwork.

"Hey, Yvonne. Busy day?"

She sighs, rubbing her temples—a rare display of exhaustion. You quirk a brow.

"You have no idea," she mutters. "Between the long shifts and this mountain of paperwork, I could use a vacation."

You chuckle. "I bet. Speaking of rounds, do you know where Zayne is?"

"In his office. He just finished up his last patient visit, so he should be resting right now." Then, with a knowing glint in her eyes, she adds, "But he mentioned clocking out early today. I wonder why…"

A playful smirk tugs at your lips. "I might have an idea."

She grins. "Go on, then. Before something else comes up."

You thank her, and make your way up to his office, your heart picking up speed at the thought of finally seeing him after so long.

It had been two weeks since you’d last seen Zayne—his business trip to Mt. Eternal with Dr. Noah had kept him away, and by the time he returned last night, you were already gone on a last-minute mission. This morning, he’d left for work before you even got home, and seeing him had been the only thing on your mind the whole day.

Naturally, the first thing you did after getting off work was come find him.

Stepping inside, your eyes land on him immediately.

Zayne is seated on the couch, his coat and glasses set aside, tie loosened as he leans back with his head resting against the cushions. Was he asleep?

You hesitate for a moment before softly calling his name.

He stirs, blinking up at you in surprise. That’s all the confirmation you need. In a heartbeat, you close the distance, launching yourself onto him before he can even stand.

Zayne grunts at the impact but recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around you as you settle into his lap. "You could’ve just said hello, you know."

You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling the faint, yet familiar scent of his cologne. "Where’s the fun in that? Besides, I missed you."

His hands settle at your waist, fingers squeezing gently. "I missed you too." His voice is softer now, more intimate. Then, amusement flickers in his eyes. "You’re awfully energetic for someone who spent the night hunting down wanderers."

You groan against his skin. "I should just kidnap you for the weekend."

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. "Oh? And do what with me, exactly?"

You pull back slightly, to playfully glare at him. Before you can speak, he lightly presses the back of your neck to bring you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“How was your day?” he asks, kneading the back of your neck gently and you melt into his touch, instantly distracted.

“Tiring, but it wasn’t as serious as Tara had made it sound,” you sigh. While the clean-up itself had been a walk in the park, the travelling had been tedious, even with the faster and advanced motorcycles from the Association.

His eyes were bright, and he was looking at you so warmly that you couldn't help but beam at him.

"Yvonne said you were clocking out early." Your fingers find the loose knot of his tie, tugging playfully. "Any particular reason?"

His gaze dips to your lips before he clears his throat. "I figured we deserved a night in."

"Mmm." You hum, letting your hand drift from his tie to his chest, feeling the steady pulse beneath your fingertips. "You’ve been gone so long, Zayne. Do you know how hard it was to sleep alone?"

His jaw tenses slightly, but instead of addressing the obvious implication in your words, he exhales slowly, as if willing himself to stay composed. "We have chamomile tea at home. Studies show it can improve sleep quality with its mild sedative effects when taken before bed."

You blink up at him. Then a slow, sly smile spreads across your lips. "Chamomile tea?" Your fingers graze the fabric of his shirt, trailing lower. "Right, but that wouldn’t help."

His brows knit slightly. "The white noise machine in the bedroom has a setting that mimics rainfall—"

"Not the same as having you next to me."

Your voice is softer this time, but there’s no mistaking the way your fingers press against his chest, the way your body leans into his just enough to make your point.

His grip tightens slightly. "We are still at the hospital," he reminds you, though his voice lacks its usual firmness. "And you're making this difficult."

You smirk, tugging the tie loose until it comes off. "Am I?" You shift just enough for him to feel the friction, watching as his breath catches. "I’m not even doing anything."

The first button of his shirt comes undone beneath your touch, your nails grazing his collarbone.

His hand snaps up suddenly, fingers wrapping around your wrist—not rough, but firm enough to make your breath hitch.

"You really want to test me right now?" His voice is a quiet warning, laced with something dangerous.

Your pulse spikes.

"What if I say yes?"

For a moment, he just watches you, tension coiling between you like a drawn bowstring. Then, Zayne exhales slowly, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin before he tilts his head, capturing your lips in a kiss that steals your breath.

There’s nothing hesitant or soft about it this time.

A small gasp escapes you, and he swallows it greedily, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer, pressing you flush against him.

"You’re doing this on purpose," he murmurs, his voice rough with restraint.

You don’t deny it.

When he finally pulls away, you barely have a moment to catch your breath before he shifts beneath you, his hand trailing up your thigh and to your heat, rubbing you through the thin material of your pants.

"Zayne—" your voice hitches as his fingers press more firmly.

"Yes, love?" His tone is teasing, though his own breath is slightly uneven.

"What happened to being at the hospital?"

"You talk too much."

Before you could retort, he moves again, picking you up with startling ease and changing your positions until you're the one beneath him, pressed into the cushions. The feel of his weight against you, the press of his hips, and his growing arousal, makes your stomach flip in anticipation.

His fingers make quick work of the button of your pants after undoing your belt, pushing them down just enough before his hand dips between your thighs, his touch firm and teasing.

You suck in a sharp breath, hips jerking against his palm as he rubs you through your underwear. He watches you closely, his pupils blown wide with desire. His fingers slip beneath the last barrier of fabric. The sensation makes you whimper.

"So impatient," he speaks in a low voice, his voice a rough whisper as he presses down just right, making you arch into him.

"Zayne—"

He silences you with a heated kiss, swallowing every sound you make as he finger-fucks you. His free hand grips your hip, keeping you pinned as he builds a slow, torturous rhythm, his breath hot against your lips.

"Is this what you wanted?" His silken murmur makes you want to clench your thighs together, but he holds you in place, lips trailing down your throat. "Say it."

You barely manage to gasp out a needy "yes" before he rewards you with a deep stroke that has you trembling beneath him. His chuckle is dark, satisfied, as he continues his slow, deliberate pace, drawing every reaction from you with precise, practiced movements.

Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, nails digging in as the tension coils tight within you. You clench around his fingers, feeling the start of a wave of euphoria when he pulls his hand away, and a desperate, needy noise escapes you.

“Be patient,” he chastises, and you resist the urge to swear when he slides your pants down further, his fingers trail teasingly against your bare skin before he shifts downward, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh.

A strangled moan escapes your lips as his mouth finds you, his tongue stroking in slow, deliberate patterns that have your fingers twisting in his hair, your thighs trembling around him.

Zayne works you open with his mouth and fingers, his name falling from your lips in breathless gasps as he devours you with unrelenting focus.

“That’s it, love.” The roughness of his voice was so damn sexy. “Be a good girl, and come for me.”

That finally did it.

When you finally shatter, he groans against you, holding you in place as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

As you pant, still trembling, he wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes locked onto you with something dangerously intent.

Before you can catch your breath, he’s already reaching for his belt, a wicked smirk playing at his lips. "We’re not done yet, love. You started this."

[leonastarry]

{ 11 } A Love Lost In Time. ✧. ┊    s.jinwoo x lover!reader

Sung Jinwoo had spent his entire life pursuing power. It was his sole goal, his sole obsession—the need to become stronger, to survive, to protect. He had fought, bled, and sacrificed everything in pursuit of power. He had abandoned his old self, his fears, his weaknesses… and, apparently, even you.

And he didn't even realize it.

At first, you told yourself he was just busy.

Sung Jinwoo had always been diligent—pushing his limits, taking on jobs no sane hunter would accept, constantly risking his life. You understood that. You admired that about him.

So when he immediately stopped responding to your messages, you didn't think much of it.

When your call went to voicemail, you reassured yourself that he was probably training.

When nights spent talking until sunrise are reduced to short, distracting texts—"I'll call you back later," "Sorry, something came up"—you tell yourself to be patient.

But then later never come.

And there's always something more important.

At some point, the missed calls stop being accidental. At some point, the silence becomes intentional.

You're not sure exactly when you started feeling like a ghost—hovering over the edge of his life, present but invisible, waiting for a door that will never open again.

Then one day, you muster up the courage to confront him.

You find him where he used to wait for you after work. Except this time, he's not waiting. He just walked past, his mind elsewhere, his steps quick and purposeful—like he had somewhere much more important to be.

"Jinwoo."

He barely responded.

You swallowed, stepping in front of him. "Darling, can we talk?"

For a moment, just a moment, his eyes flickered over you. And in that moment, you searched for something—acknowledgement, warmth, hesitation.

But all you saw was exhaustion. Detachment. Like you were just another person, just another part of the world he no longer had time for.

"…I have things to do," he muttered. And then—he walked past you.

No goodbye. No promise to talk later.

Just silence.

And that's when you understood.

Sung Jinwoo hasn't broken up with you yet.

He just… forgot about you.

And somehow, that hurts even more.

It feels like you don't matter that much anymore.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Until now.

Until time turned back, and your voice—soft, familiar, aching, nostalgic—called his name.

"Jinwoo!"

His breath caught. Something inside him stirred, an unshakable feeling of déjà vu. But it wasn't until he turned around and saw you standing there, smiling naturally that his entire body stiffened. Memories flooded back to him all at once—memories he didn't even know he'd buried.

You were there.

You were always there.

Memories of late-night conversations under the streetlights, of your hand slipping into his without hesitation, of whispers of reassurance when the world felt too cruel. He remembered how you used to tease him when he was just an E-rank Hunter, how you were his safe place when everything seemed impossible. He remembered the warmth of your laughter, the way you always seemed to believe in him, even when he didn't believe in himself.

And then—he remembered that he had lost you.

Not because you died. Not because of some tragic accident.

But because he had forgotten you.

Because in his madness of leveling up, in his single-minded pursuit of power, he had pushed aside everything that wasn't related to survival. He had stopped answering your calls. Stopped meeting you at the coffee shop you both frequented. Stopped thinking about you.

You tried—he could remember it now, like a ghostly echo. The unread messages. The unanswered calls. The last time he saw you in the old timeline, you had reached out to him, asking if everything was okay.

And he had just walked away.

He left you, not with words, not with outright rejection, but with silence.

His stomach twisted. His throat tightened. But then, there you were, looking at him with clear, unburdened eyes, completely unaware of the weight on his chest.

Because in this timeline, you don't remember any of it.

You don't remember how he slowly drifted away, how his obsession with power erased you from his life. You don't remember how you were everything to him—before he threw it all away without a second thought.

And that's the cruelest part.

He had committed some crime that you didn't remember at all.

"Jinwoo?" you asked again, tilting your head, the way you always did when he was silent for too long. "What's wrong? You're staring."

His lips parted but no words came out.

What was he supposed to say? That he had forgotten you? That he had been so focused on power that he had let go of the only person who had always been there for him? That he had left you, and only now, standing here in a time where he still had a second chance, did he realize how unforgivably selfish he had been?

He clenched his fists.

NO.

No, he would not miss this chance.

He would not let himself forget again.

This time, he would win your love.

This time, he would never let you go again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Sung Jinwoo has been acting strange lately.

You can't pinpoint exactly when it started, but suddenly one day he's been looking at you differently. There's something heavy in his eyes whenever he looks at you, something raw and unspoken.

Guilt.

You don't understand it.

You didn't do anything wrong. He didn't do anything wrong.

But every time you smile at him, his fingers twitch as if he wants to reach out to you but can't. Every time you laugh, his jaw clenches as if it hurts him to hear it. And every time you look into his eyes, you feel the weight of something you shouldn't be carrying—something he refuses to say.

It's frustrating.

Why? Why does he look at you like that?

"Jinwoo," you call, your voice soft but steady. He stiffened, as if expecting you to ask the very question he feared.

But you didn't.

Instead, you smiled, soft and warm, reaching out to take his hand. His fingers tensed under your touch, but he didn't pull away.

"I don't know what you're feeling guilty about," you admitted, watching his throat rise and fall, his expression darkening. "I don't know what you think you did. But I do know one thing."

You squeezed his hand gently, reassuringly.

"I will always forgive you, Jinwoo."

His breathing quickened. His eyes widened with an almost desperate look.

No hesitation. No questions asked. You would forgive him—no matter what.

Because that was how much you loved him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Bonus:

Jinwoo still stared at you, his expression a jumble of emotions—guilt, relief, and something that looked like self-loathing. He squeezed your hand, and he opened his mouth, probably to say something dramatic and self-sacrificing.

But before he could, you grinned. "So… does that mean I can take your credit card?"

Jinwoo choked. "Huh?"

"You know, since you're so guilty and all," you continued, completely serious. "I feel like retail therapy might actually help me cope with whatever terrible things you think you did."

He blinked. Once. Twice.

Then, for the first time in days, you saw something other than guilt on his face—helplessness and indulgence. "…It doesn't work like that."

"That's exactly how it works," you retorted, poking his chest. "Forgiveness isn't cheap, darling. Pay up."

Jinwoo sighed wearily, rubbing his temples. "I think I like it better when you don’t know how to take advantage of me."

You smiled brightly. "Oh, but you still love me, right?"

He glanced at you, guilt temporarily replaced by fondness. His lips twitched.

"Yeah," he admitted. "I still love you."

"Great!" You patted his arm. "Now, about that credit card—"

"Yeah, you can have it. Just don't make me broke"

"Deal."

@in-dire-need-for-help I'm done !! 🎉

Feeling like I'm full of energy today .

I've written 30 short fics of Jinwoo x reader! So proud of me 😎

Anyways, thanks for 160+ followers, I love you guys 💗💗

[myonexox]

A GEEK

⁽ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉˡˡⁱᵍᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᵃˢʰⁱᵒⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵒʳ ᵖᵒᵖᵘˡᵃʳ⁾

pairing : jake x female!reader

genre : romance, fluff, slow burn, high school au, mutual pining

synopsis : your quiet, geeky girl’s life changes when jake sim, the most popular boy in school suddenly starts noticing you. what begins as awkward encounters turns into something special as you get closer and discover how much you mean to each other.

word count : 6.5k

you had always been invisible. not in the literal sense of course but in a way that made your presence in the crowded hallways of decelis high school feel unimportant. you just blended in with everyone else, your navy blazer and plaid skirt making you look like part of the crowd. it was a skill you had mastered over the years, being unnoticeable.

you’d walk through the corridors, arms clutching your books tightly against your chest, your head dipped low to avoid unnecessary eye contact.

life as a geek wasn’t bad. it was… predictable. your days followed a rigid routine that you found comfort in. morning began with your alarm’s shrill ring at 6:30 am sharp. you’d shuffle out of bed, slip on your thick rimmed glasses and head to the kitchen for a breakfast of toast and strawberry jam. by 7:15, you were at your desk, double checking your homework and packing your backpack.

your room was your sanctuary. shelves lined with books of every genre imaginable towered over your desk where stacks of notes and colorful pens were neatly arranged. posters of your favorite fantasy and science fiction films adorned the walls. it was the one space where you felt truly yourself.

at school, you weren’t the type to sit in the back and daydream during lectures. no, you were the girl in the front row, hand always raised with answers that made the teachers smile and the other students groan. it wasn’t your fault you loved learning. physics fascinated you, history intrigued you and math… well, math was the closest thing to magic you’d ever known. math was fun actually. there was always a solution to solve the question even if it took a while to find it.

the library was your second home. during lunch breaks, while your classmates crowded around cafeteria tables gossiping or laughing, you’d retreat to the quiet solace of the library. the librarian, mrs choi, often joked that you’d read through the entire fiction section before graduation. you weren’t sure if she was wrong.

your wardrobe didn’t exactly help you stand out either. comfort always came first which meant oversized sweaters, jeans and sneakers. you’d tried makeup once after watching a tutorial online but the eyeliner had smudged so badly you swore off the idea entirely. besides, who had time for makeup when there were more important things like finishing your essays?

if there was one thing you prided yourself on, it was your organizational skills. your planner was color coded. every test date, project deadline and extracurricular meeting was accounted for.

extracurriculars were another realm where you excelled, quietly of course. as a member of the school’s academic decathlon team, you spent countless times preparing for competitions that most of your peers didn’t even know existed. the thrill of solving complex problems was something only your teammates understood. they were your people in a way though you never hung out outside practice.

socially, you weren’t entirely isolated. you had acquaintances, people who’d partnered with you in group projects because they knew you’d do most of the work. there was minji who sat next to you in biology and occasionally borrowed your notes. and there was dohoon, your lab partner in chemistry who appreciated your knack for balancing equations but never talked about anything other than the assignment at hand.

deep down, you sometimes wondered what it would be like to be someone else. someone who didn’t have to try so hard to fit in because they already belonged. you weren’t bitter about it, envy wasn’t in your nature but the thought lingered on the edges of your mind. but what could you do? you’d much rather be home, curled up with a good book or rewatching your favorite sci-fi series than socializing. it was exhausting.

your family didn’t mind your geekiness though. your parents, both engineers, encouraged your love for academics. they were the ones who’d introduced you to stem at an early age, buying you science kits and puzzle books instead of dolls. your younger brother, jungwon, often teased you about your “walking encyclopedia” tendencies but it was all in good fun. he was the polar opposite of you, athletic, outgoing and effortlessly popular but the two of you got along well enough.

weekends were your favorite. saturday mornings were reserved for trips to the local bookstore where you’d spend hours browsing the shelves before leaving with a small stack of new treasures. afternoons were for academic pursuits, online courses and science experiments. sunday was family day, a time for board games and takeout dinners.

still, there were times when you really felt alone. like when the teacher announced group projects and you’d sit there, waiting for everyone to pair up, knowing you’d be one of the last picks. or when you overheard classmates making weekend plans that didn’t include you.

but you’d learned to accept it. after all, being a geek had its perks. you didn’t have to deal with the pressures of popularity or the drama that seemed to follow the school’s social elite. your world was small but manageable, filled with things you loved and understood. and that was enough for you. or so you thought.

but everything changed on the day you suddenly tripped over your own feet in front of the most famous boy in the school, jake sim.

it happened so fast you barely registered it. one second you were walking through the school courtyard, clutching your books tightly as usual and the next, your foot caught on a crack in the pavement. gravity did the rest.

your heart plummeted as your knees hit the ground, sending your books scattering across the concrete. the sting of embarrassment flared even before the pain set in. you heard laughter around you.

when you looked up, it felt like the world had slowed down. jake sim. of all people, it had to be jake sim. the most famous boy in school. the golden boy. captain of the soccer team, straight A student and the reason half the girls at decelis high pretended to care about morning assemblies. he was standing right there, his eyes widened in surprise.

his friends were there too. “did you see that?” one of them said, snickering. “she went down like a ton of bricks”

“classic geek move” another chimed in. the words burned and your face was on fire, hot with humiliation and you wanted nothing more than to disappear.

but then, jake moved. he stepped forward and crouched down in front of you. his friends quieted, their laughter fading into confused murmurs as he extended a hand toward you.

“hey are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle and genuinely concerned. his brown eyes met yours and for a brief, bewildering moment, you felt a flicker of warmth in his expression.

but the warmth didn’t last. you’d already heard his friends laughing at you. you could feel everyone was staring at you. some of the students nearby had even pulled out their phones, recording the scene as if it were some kind of spectacle.

your stomach churned. you were sure jake was mocking you too. why else would he bother? why would someone like him, someone who had everything, lower himself to help someone like you? it had to be a joke, some cruel attempt to make you feel even smaller than you already did.

without thinking, you shoved his hand away.

“don’t” you muttered, your voice trembling as you scrambled to your feet. the words barely made it past the lump in your throat. you didn’t dare look at him again, didn’t dare see the reaction on his face.

clutching your books to your chest, you bolted. your legs carried you across the courtyard as if your life depended on it.

by the time you reached the safety of the library, your chest was heaving and tears were threatening to spill. you sank into a corner, hiding behind a row of books and buried your face in your hands. it was the most humiliating moment of your life.

the rest of the day passed in a blur. you skipped lunch, avoiding the cafeteria at all costs. you didn’t go to your usual spot in the library either, knowing that someone might find you there. instead, you wandered the school aimlessly, keeping your head down and praying that no one would notice you.

but of course they did.

by the time the final bell rang, the entire school had seen the video. someone had posted it on social media with a caption that read, “geek girl meets golden boy #epicfail”. the clip had been shared dozens of times and the comments were relentless.

“omg this is gold” “she really thought jake was gonna save her lmao” “that’s what she gets for being such a try hard”

each comment felt like a dagger. you tried not to look but it was impossible to avoid. the video was everywhere, playing on phones and whispered about in every corner of the school. you caught snippets of conversations as you passed.

“did you see the way she ran?” “i can’t believe she pushed jake away. who does that? she must be crazy”

you wanted to scream, to cry, to lash out at everyone who was treating your humiliation like it was entertainment. but mostly, you just wanted to disappear.

you were sure jake had seen the video too. how could he not? his friends were probably laughing about it right now, showing him the clip over and over until it was burned into his memory. the thought made your stomach churn. you imagined him smirking, shaking his head at how pathetic you were. it wasn’t hard to picture. people like him didn’t care about people like you.

as soon as you got home, you immediately locked yourself in your room, threw your backpack onto the floor and collapsed onto your bed. the events of the day played in your mind on an endless loop, refusing to let you find peace.

the way his friends had laughed. the way the crowd had stared. the way he had looked at you, his hand outstretched like he actually cared.

you groaned, burying your face in your pillow. why did he have to do that? why couldn’t he just ignored you like everyone else? if he hadn’t tried to help, none of this would have happened.

you stared at the ceiling, wishing you could rewind time and avoid the courtyard altogether. or better yet, wishing the ground had opened up beneath you and swallowed you whole.

the next morning, you dreaded going to school. you considered pretending to be sick but your parents would see right through you. so you dragged yourself out of bed, got dressed and braced yourself for another day of whispers and stares.

and the whispers and stares were there just as you’d expected. people glanced at you in the hallways, some smirking, others pretending not to look but failing miserably. you heard someone say “hey, isn’t that the girl from the video?” as you walked by. you kept your head down, your cheeks burning and pretended not to hear.

jake was everywhere. not literally but in every conversation, every snicker, every mention of the incident. his name had become synonymous with your humiliation and you hated it. you hated him.

but most of all, you hated yourself for caring so much. for letting one moment define you.

you just hoped it would all blow over soon. that something else would happen to distract everyone and they’d forget about you. until then, all you could do was survive, one day at a time.

the school day had dragged on endlessly, each second ticking by like an eternity. everywhere you went, whispers seemed to follow. no matter how hard you tried to ignore them, the laughter and muffled conversations felt like they were closing in on you, suffocating and relentless. you just needed to get away.

the rooftop. yes. you rarely went there but it was the only place where no one could find you. and it was the only place that came to your mind at the moment. it wasn’t exactly a secret spot. plenty of students went there during lunch or breaks but in the middle of class periods, it was usually empty. at least, you hoped it would be.

you made your way up the stairwell. when you reached the top, you hesitated for a moment, hand hovering over the metal handle of the rooftop door. taking a deep breath, you pulled it open and peeked through the small gap.

no one. the space was deserted just as you’d hoped.

you slipped through the door, letting it close behind you with a soft click. the cool breeze brushing against your skin as you stepped closer to the railing. for a moment, the weight on your chest eased. up here, you felt like it was just you and the open sky, no whispers, no stares.

a frustrated sigh escaped your lips as you gripped the cold metal of the railing. the humiliation burned like a fresh wound and the anger bubbling in your chest was too much to contain.

without thinking, you let out a scream. it was raw, loud and full of every ounce of frustration and embarrassment you’d been holding in. the sound echoed across the rooftop, carried away by the wind. but it wasn’t enough. you needed more.

“damn it!” you yelled, kicking the base of the railing with your foot. the clang of metal rang out, satisfying in a way you couldn’t explain.

“stupid video! stupid school! stupid jake sim!” the words tumbled out, each one more sharper than the last. “if everyone thinks i’m just some geek who doesn’t have feelings, they can go to hell!”

you turned and kicked at an old wooden box that had been left by the wall, sending it skidding across the rooftop. you let out a short, bitter laugh.

“look at me” you muttered to yourself, shaking your head. “having a full on breakdown up here. real mature”

for a moment, you stood there, breathing heavily as the adrenaline began to fade. the silence was almost comforting. you pressed your palms to your face, letting out a long, shuddering sigh.

but then, you heard it.

a faint sound like footsteps on concrete. you froze, your heart skipping a beat. slowly, you turned your head, your eyes scanning the rooftop for the source of the noise.

and that’s when you saw him.

jake sim.

he was standing near the door, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

“that was quite the performance” he said, his voice light and teasing. “didn’t know you had it in you”

your heart sank. of all people, why did it have to be him? you felt the heat rush to your face, your earlier anger quickly replaced by sheer mortification.

“how long have you been standing there?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.

he shrugged, pushing himself off the wall and taking a few steps closer. “long enough”

you groaned, covering your face with your hands. “oh my god. just… just leave, okay? pretend you didn’t see any of that”

“why would i do that?” he asked, tilting his head. “it was… entertaining. therapeutic even. honestly i get it. sometimes you just need to let it all out”

you dropped your hands and glared at him. “what do you want?”

he held up his hands in mock surrender. “relax, i’m not here to make fun of you if that’s what you’re worried about”

“sure you’re not” you muttered, turning back toward the railing. you gripped it tightly, your knuckles turning white.

then, there was silence. you half expected him to leave, to go back to his friends and tell them all about the geek girl having a meltdown on the rooftop. but instead, he stayed where he was.

“you know” he said after a while, his tone softer “people talk about me all the time. they make up stories, spread rumors, post videos. sometimes it feels like they think i’m not a real person. like i don’t have feelings”

you glanced at him, surprised by the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“i’m not saying i know exactly how you feel” he continued, meeting your gaze. “but i get it. it sucks”

you didn’t know what to say, you didn't know how to respond to that. his honesty caught you off guard and you weren’t sure if you believed him.

“yeah” you said finally, your voice quiet. “it does”

he smiled then, a small, genuine smile that made your heart felt something you didn’t quite understand.

“so” he said, gesturing to the broken box “are you feeling better now?”

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound surprising even you. “a little” you admitted.

“good” he said, his smile widening. “because i’m pretty sure that box didn’t deserve what you just did to it”

you rolled your eyes but the corner of your mouth twitched upward.

but then you remembered that this was all his fault. if only he had just ignored you like everyone else did, none of this would have happened. so why did he help you? why did he even do that? for what?

the questions swirled in your mind. jake sim was the last person who should’ve noticed you, let alone intervened. he wasn’t just popular, he was untouchable, orbiting in a world so far removed from yours that his sudden attention felt like some kind of cruel joke.

“well, what’s your deal?” you finally blurted out, turning to face him. your voice sharp but you didn’t care. if he was going to mess with you, he might as well do it openly.

he raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback. “my deal?”

“yeah” you said, crossing your arms. “why did you help me that day? why didn’t you just laugh along with your friends like everyone else? that's what you should do”

his expression shifted, the teasing smile fading into something more serious. he ran a hand through his hair, a small sigh escaping his lips. “i don’t know” he admitted. “you just… looked like you needed it”

you blinked, caught off guard by his answer. of all the answers you’d expected, that wasn’t one of them. “what does that even mean?”

“i mean...” he said, leaning against the railing beside you “you fell and i just thought you might need some help”

you frowned, studying his face. “so what? you felt sorry for me?”

“no” he said quickly. “it wasn’t like that. i just… i wanted to help. that’s all. is that wrong? it's normal, right?”

you didn’t know how to respond to that. part of you wanted to believe him but another part of you couldn’t help but feel suspicious.

“well, you shouldn’t have” you said finally, looking away. “now everyone’s talking about it. about me”

“and that’s a bad thing?” he asked, his tone light but curious.

“of course it is!” you snapped, turning back to him. “do you have any idea what it’s like to have people laugh at you, to make fun of you just for existing? i’ve spent my whole life trying to stay out of the spotlight and now, thanks to you, i’m front and center”

his jaw tightened and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make things harder for you”

you stared at him, furrowing your eyebrows. he looked almost… guilty. did he? it was a strange sight, seeing someone like him apologized to someone like you.

“i- it’s fine” you muttered, the anger in your chest softening. “just… don’t do it again”

he smirked. “no promises though”

you glared at him.

he chuckled. “so” he said after a while “what’s next for you? going to hide up here forever?”

you sighed, leaning against the railing. “i wish i could. but no, i’ll probably just… go back to class and pretend none of this ever happened”

“sounds boring” he said, his grin widening. “you should do something more dramatic. like storm into the cafeteria and announce that you’re taking over the school”

you snorted. “yeah right, that’ll really help my reputation”

“hey, it worked for me” he said with a wink.

you rolled your eyes and smiled.

as you walked back to your class, jake couldn't help but find himself smiling. at first, he thought you were just a funny ‘geek’ girl, someone quirky and different from the crowd he usually surrounded himself with. but there was something about the way you had spoken to him that stuck with him. he didn’t know why but he kept smiling, the image of you playing over and over in his mind.

by the time he returned to his own class, he still couldn’t shake the feeling. it wasn’t like him to get distracted especially by someone so… unexpected. but after that day, he found himself looking for you in the hallways, hoping to catch even a glimpse of you. and whenever he did, he couldn’t stop the grin that would spread across his face.

it started small, a passing smile here, a quick wave there. but somehow, you kept running into each other. sometimes it was at the rooftop where he’d escape to find a moment of peace only to find you already there. other times it was at the library where you’d be buried in a book.

“hey” he’d say, sliding into the seat across from you at the library.

you’d glance up, startled at first but then your expression would soften. “oh it’s you”

“don’t sound so excited” he’d tease, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

you’d roll your eyes. “what do you want?”

“nothing” he’d say, shrugging. “just thought i’d say hi”

and somehow, those brief interactions would turn into conversations. real conversations. not the shallow small talk he usually had with his friends but actual discussions about books, movies, anything and everything. you had a way of speaking that was so candid, so unfiltered that it made him feel like he could drop the act for once. like he could just be jake, not jake sim, the popular guy everyone wanted to be around.

it was… refreshing. addictive even.

he didn’t know when it started but he began seeking you out more and more. the rooftop became your unofficial meeting spot, a sanctuary where you could escape the noise and chaos of school. sometimes you’d sit in silence, simply enjoying the view. other times, you’d talk for hours, your conversations flowing effortlessly.

“you’re different” he told you once, leaning against the railing as his eyes never left your face.

you raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “gee, thanks. that’s not the first time i’ve heard that”

he laughed, shaking his head. “i mean it in a good way. you’re… real? i don't know how to explain it but it's like... like you don’t pretend to be someone you’re not”

you shrugged, your gaze fixed on the sky. “what’s the point? people will judge you no matter what you do”

“true” he said, nodding. “but still. it’s nice. talking to you i mean. please don't ever change. just... be yourself. that's better”

you glanced at him and simply nodded.

it was moments like those that stayed with him. the way you could silence him with a single look or make him laugh with your dry sense of humor. the way you’d listen when he talked, like really listen without expecting anything in return. you didn’t care about his popularity or his reputation.

and he liked that.

as the days turned into weeks, he found himself thinking about you more and more. whenever he was alone, his mind would drift to you. he’d replay your conversations in his head, savoring every word, every laugh.

“you’ve got it bad, man” one of his friends teased one day, catching him zoning out.

he snapped out of his thoughts, glaring at the guy. “what are you talking about?”

“you’ve been smiling like an idiot all day. so who’s the lucky girl?”

“no one” he said quickly. “just shut up”

was it that obvious? did people notice the way he… looked at you? the way he’d light up whenever you were around?

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. maybe his friend was right. maybe he did have it bad. but what was he supposed to do about it? you weren’t like the other girls he’d dated. you didn’t fawn over him or try to impress him.

and that only made him like you more.

for the first time in his life, he felt like he was falling for someone, really falling. not because of their looks or their social status but because of who they were. because of the way they made him feel.

and as terrifying as that was, it was also exhilarating.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the rooftop had become your refuge, a place to escape the noise and chaos of school life. you’d grown used to the tranquility it offered. it was your little corner of the world, a space where you could think, unwind and just be. but today, as you pushed the door open, the familiar sense of solitude wasn’t there. someone else had beaten you to it.

jake was standing by the railing, his back to the door. you froze for a moment, debating whether to leave and come back later but something about the way he stood stopped you. he looked… different. his shoulders were tense, his head slightly bowed as if he was deep in thought.

“jake?” you called out hesitantly, stepping onto the rooftop. he turned at the sound of your voice.

“hey” he said, offering a small smile.

you walked closer, stopping a few feet away from him. something was definitely off, you could see that.

“are you okay?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “you seem… a bit different today”

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he turned back to the railing, gripping it tightly. you could see the way his jaw clenched, the way his fingers tightened around the metal bar.

“jake?” you prompted gently, stepping closer.

he let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. “do you ever feel like… like you’re standing at the edge of a cliff and you know you need to jump but you’re scared?” he asked.

you blinked, caught off guard by the question. “i guess? i mean, i’ve felt scared about things before. is that how you’re feeling right now?”

he nodded, his gaze still fixed on the sky. “yeah. that’s exactly how i feel right now”

silence stretched between you. you didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to comfort him when you didn’t even know what was bothering him.

jake’s mind was a storm, a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions that he couldn’t seem to settle. should he tell you the truth? should he open up and lay it all bare, knowing that once the words left his mouth, there would be no turning back?

but what if you didn’t feel the same? what if his confession only made things awkward between the two of you, ruining the connection he had come to treasure so much? he hated the idea of losing this. it wasn’t something he’d experienced often and he wasn’t ready to let it go.

yet, keeping his feelings bottled up felt unbearable too. every time he saw you, every time you smiled or laughed or looked at him, it made his chest tighten and his heart race. he’d never felt like this before.

“why are you so scared?” he thought to himself, his grip tightening on the edge of the railing. “what’s the worst that could happen?”

the worst? he could already picture it. you’d avoid him, wouldn’t meet him on the rooftop anymore, wouldn’t share those quiet moments of peace and understanding. and he’d have to watch from a distance as you moved on, completely unaware of the effect you’d had on him.

but the best case scenario? that was harder to imagine. what if you smiled and said you felt the same? what if you took his hand and told him he wasn’t alone in this? it seemed too good to be true like a dream he didn’t dare to hope for.

he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. he couldn’t keep doing this, running in circles inside his own head, paralyzed by fear and doubt. if he didn’t say something now, he might never work up the courage to do it again.

“she deserves to know” a voice in his mind argued.

honesty. it sounded simple but it felt like the hardest thing in the world. still, he couldn’t keep running from this. he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when his feelings were threatening to consume him from the inside out.

with a shaky exhale, he opened his eyes and turned to face you. “this is it” he thought. “now or never”

“i’ve been thinking about something for a while now” he said finally. “something i’ve never really had to think about before. and it’s… it’s terrifying honestly”

you furrowed your brow. “what is it?”

he hesitated, his grip on the railing tightening. “it’s… complicated. i don’t even know how to explain it. and even if i did, i’m not sure you’d want to hear it”

“try me” you said, your voice soft but firm. “whatever it is, i’ll listen”

he glanced at you, his eyes searching yours as if looking for reassurance. whatever he saw seemed to give him courage because he took a deep breath and turned to face you fully.

“okay” he said, more to himself than to you. “okay”

you watched as he ran a hand through his hair again. he was clearly nervous which only made you more curious. jake sim wasn’t the type to get nervous. what could possibly have him so rattled?

“jake—”

and then he said it. three words that you never expected to hear from him.

“i like you”

you thought you’d misheard him. surely he hadn’t just said what you thought he’d said. right? but the look on his face told you otherwise. he was serious. dead serious. and that made your heart skip a beat.

“w- what?” you stuttered.

“i like you” he repeated, his voice stronger this time. “i have for a while now. i just… i didn’t know how to tell you. or if i even should. but i can’t keep it to myself anymore. i had to say it. i had to”

you stared at him, your mind racing. this was jake sim. the most popular guy in school. the guy everyone wanted to be friends with, to date, to be. and he was standing here, on the rooftop, confessing that he liked you? were you dreaming or hallucinating?

“why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

he blinked, clearly caught off guard by your question. “why what?”

“why… why me?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly. “i’m just… me? i mean, i’m not popular or cool or… any of the things you are. why would you even like someone like me?”

he let out a soft laugh though there was no humor in it. “that’s exactly why i like you. you’re not like everyone else. you don’t care about popularity or appearances or any of that stuff. you’re real. like i said, you're real. you’re honest. and you're just... yeah, you. you're just you. and you make me feel like i can be myself when i’m around you”

you opened your mouth to respond but no words came out. you didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process what was happening. this was all too much, too fast. and yet, there was a part of you that couldn’t help but feel… flattered. maybe even a little happy.

“i know this is probably a lot to take in” he said gently. “and i’m not expecting you to feel the same way. i just… i needed you to know. that’s all”

you looked at him. he wasn’t joking. he wasn’t playing some cruel prank.

“jake, i…” you began but your voice trailed off. you really didn’t know how to finish the sentence. what could you possibly say that wouldn’t make things even more complicated? and even more... awkward than it already was?

he smiled, a small, bittersweet smile. “it’s okay. you don’t have to say anything. like i said, i just needed you to know how i feel. that’s all that matters. i—”

before he could finish, you grabbed his shirt, pulling him forward and pressing your lips against his. it was sudden, impulsive and completely out of character for you. but in that moment, it felt right. it was a kiss that lasted barely a second, just long enough to silence him but not long enough to fully process what you had done. when you pulled away, your face was already burning as you released his shirt.

“i think… i like you too?” you said softly. your eyes darted everywhere but his face, too shy to meet his gaze. the words felt foreign and strange coming out of your mouth but they were true. you liked him and it was about time you admitted it, not just to him but to yourself.

you took a small step back, your fingers curling nervously into your palms.

at first, jake had been nothing more than the most popular boy in school. you had your books and your quiet life. you never thought someone like him would even notice you, let alone talk to you. he was charming, confident and surrounded by people who adored him. you had always assumed he was just like everyone else in his social circle. superficial, vain and too wrapped up in his own world to care about anyone outside of it.

but then that fateful day happened. the day you tripped over your own feet and fell right in front of him. the embarrassment had been overwhelming especially when his friends laughed at you. yet, amidst the jeers and snickers, jake had extended his hand to help you up. you hadn’t taken it then, too mortified and convinced that his kindness was just another way to mock you. still, that moment had stayed in your mind far longer than you wanted to admit.

after that, he started showing up everywhere you went. at first, it seemed like a coincidence, bumping into him at the library or passing him in the hallways. but then there were the rooftop encounters, moments that felt too deliberate to be accidental. you’d always gone to the rooftop to escape. it was your sanctuary other than the library. yet somehow, he had managed to worm his way into that space too.

you remembered the first time he sat down beside you on the rooftop. he hadn’t said much, just offered a casual “hey” before settling into the spot next to you. you had been too stunned to respond, too caught off guard. why was he there? what did he want from you? but as the days turned into weeks and the rooftop became your unofficial meeting spot, you began to see a different side of him.

he wasn’t like the version of him you had built up in your mind. he wasn’t just the popular guy who thrived on attention and basked in the admiration of others. he was thoughtful and... dare you say it, kind. he listened when you spoke as if your words mattered to him. and you'd do the same. and when he talked, he let down his guard, revealing pieces of himself that you doubted he shared with anyone else. it was in those moments that you saw the real jake sim, not the image everyone else worshipped but the person behind it.

you had tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered whenever he smiled at you, the way your pulse quickened when he leaned in just a little too close during your conversations. you told yourself it didn’t mean anything, that it was just your imagination playing tricks on you. but the truth was, he had wormed his way into your heart without you even realizing it.

it wasn’t one grand gesture or a single moment that made you fall for him. it was a series of little things. the way he remembered everything you told him, the way he teased you just enough to make you smile, the way he always seemed to know when you needed a friend. it was the way he made you feel seen. and maybe that was what scared you the most. the idea that someone like him could see you in a way no one else ever had.

for a moment, jake just stood there, frozen. he tried to process what had just happened. you kissed him. you actually kissed him. on the lips. and then you said you liked him.

“oh my god” you muttered, covering your face with your hands. “i shouldn’t have done that. i’m so so so sorry… i didn’t mean to make this awkward. jake, please just forget i—”

before you could finish your apology, his hands shot out, grabbing yours and gently pulling them away from your face. his heart was pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it but he didn’t care. in one swift motion, he leaned forward and captured your lips with his.

this time, the kiss wasn’t brief. it wasn’t hesitant or uncertain. it was full of everything he had been holding back. the longing, the fear, the overwhelming relief of knowing you felt the same. his hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. his lips moved against yours slowly at first, testing, savoring but as you responded, he grew bolder. the kiss became more fervent, more desperate as if he was trying to pour all his emotions into that single moment.

you felt his fingers tangle gently in your hair. his lips were warm, soft and incredibly inviting, making it impossible to think about anything else. the world around you seemed to disappear. the rooftop, the school, everything. all that existed was him, the way he made you feel and the dizzying sensation of his lips moving perfectly against yours.

when he finally pulled back, both of you were breathless. his forehead rested against yours as he closed his eyes, a small, content smile playing on his lips.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while” he admitted, his voice low and slightly raspy.

you couldn’t help but laugh softly, your cheeks still flushed. “you could’ve just told me”

“yeah, well” he said, finally opening his eyes to look at you. his gaze was warm, filled with so much affection it made your heart skip a beat. “i think this worked out better”

neither of you moved for a moment as if afraid that breaking the silence would shatter the magic of what had just happened. but when he smiled at you again, that playful, boyish grin you’d grown so used to, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

“so” he said, his voice light and teasing now. “does this mean i can officially call you my girlfriend?”

you rolled your eyes but your lips curved into a smile. “whatever you want, jake sim”

“i’ll take that as a yes” he said, his grin widening.

you stood close together, the breeze gently ruffling your hair. his hand found yours, intertwining your fingers.

it was strange to think how much had changed in such a short span of time. you, the girl who had always preferred to blend into the background, the girl who had built walls to protect herself from the judgment of others had found something so unexpected in the boy who had everything. and jake, the boy who had lived his life in the spotlight, surrounded by people who adored him for what he was rather than who he was had found solace in you.

it wasn’t a fairytale ending. it wasn’t dramatic or over the top. it was simple but that was what made it perfect.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + thirty two

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

cw/tw: fluff, angst, and smut

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

cast+ masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 12k

“Baby, look.”

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

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

“What is this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When does that start?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want them to have their own space.”

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

“You don’t know that for certain.”

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

He looks at her. “What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

And, she’s not even showing yet.

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

She frowns. “What do you mean?”

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

“But, I have security—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lina. 

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

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

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

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

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

Physical proof of the lives growing inside of her. 

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

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

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

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

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

—---------

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kill or be killed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Been burned by the fire but survived nonetheless.

She is fire. 

It’s been a long journey, largely aided to and due to her husband, due to Roman doing something as simple as making her learn how to train, how to fight, something she’s learned to love and will miss throughout this pregnancy, but something she still holds with her. 

That fight.

“Kinda hard to not at least try to catch up when surrounded by so many strong people,” Solana says with a small smile as the two women to start removing their bulletproof vests, clearly ready for a lunch break. 

Afia chuckles softly, soft eyes focused ahead, as Bautista quietly escorts them to the cafeteria. “You’ve always been strong, Solana. It just maybe took you a little longer to realize it. That’s the case with a lot of women who’ve been told what they can and can’t do, who they are, and what they are and are not.” She casts the shorter woman a meaningful gaze, “but the truth is that there is no stronger being on this planet than a woman. Do you know why?” Solana shakes her head as the two women reach the door that Bautista holds open for them. Afia chuckles and steps forward, answering clearly and with zero hesitation. “Because just as easily as we can create life—” Something dark and intentful flashes in her pretty eyes, the lingering remnants of the killer that will always lie within. “We can take it, too.”

At one point in Solana’s life, not even a year ago, such a statement would unnerve her. Maybe even scare her a bit, but there’s something about the transformative journey she’s been on all these months that has her in such a different place.

The fact that she has not only one, but two lives, growing inside of her. Two daughters. All of that has her in such a different place with a different mindset than she had just some months ago when talking with her husband about her fear of how badly she hurt Wesley. Her fear of if she unintentionally would end up killing him.

Of killing in general.

Then, Solana told Roman she didn't think she could live with herself if she ever did such a thing.

Now, she no longer feels the way.

She would prefer to never be in that situation, to never have to make that call, but the truth of the matter is that if she had to, if she had to kill to protect, she would.

For herself.

For Roman.

For her daughters.

Because not only has she made a vow that no man would ever hurt her again, she’s made the same for her girls.

For her family. 

She’ll do whatever it takes to protect them, to protect their lives.

Even if it means taking someone else’s. 

Afia and Solana continue to engage in discussion about topics regarding life and training when that damn nausea returns, prompting Solana to place down the last bit of her sandwich as she covers her mouth. 

Afia is forever perceptive and notices as such, asking, “are you alright?”

Solana nods, mustering up a small smile and trying to play it off. “Yes. The food is just.....probably not agreeing with me.”

It feels like a good answer, a good excuse. And, it is, if not for Afia being who she is. 

The other woman chuckles quietly, asking in a low voice that’s not necessarily required given Roman had the entire shooting range cleared just for the two women to train. Something he’s done since their first lesson and will continue to do.

Afia’s gaze is assessing. “How far along are you?”

Solana, to the best of her abilities, tries to hide the complete shock that shoots through her body at Afia’s cavalier question. But, it’s difficult, to say the least. “Wh–what?”

“Solana…..” Afia leans across the table, placing her hand on top of Solana’s. “I know we haven’t known each other for long, but we’re technically family, if our stubborn husbands would set aside their pride and talk things out, that is.” Another bombshell as Solana is unsure if Afia is referring to Matteo and Roman as cousins or the half-brothers that they really are. “And, I know this is a rare thing in this world, something that’s almost non-existent, but I promise that you can trust me. You have my word. On my childrens' life.”

Such a strong, powerful statement that Solana doesn't take lightly. That she believes. Because if there’s one thing she’s learned about the woman sitting across from her, it’s that Afia does not play about her family. Especially her children. 

She’d never include them in something like that if she didn’t mean it.

It’s why Solana finds herself asking in a quiet voice, “how—how did you know?”

“I’m a mother myself, Solana. I’ve been there before with the morning sickness, the light headedness, the headaches.” Solana continues to sit stunned as Afia lists off some of the symptoms the wife of the Tribal Chief thought she’d hidden well enough when they hit her during her trainings. “The pregnancy glow.” 

At that, Solana’s eyes light up. “I–I have that?”

Afia nods with a warm smile. “You do.”

There’s something about that, about that acknowledgement from another woman, another mother, that means the world to Solana. 

“I’m—I’m three months,” she finally answers, confirming what Afia clearly already knows. “It’s–it’s twins.”

It’s always been discussed that the pregnancy should be kept private and will continue to be kept as such, but Solana knows that if she talks with Roman, explains how Afia knowing transpired, that he won’t be upset. 

The same way she wasn’t upset when he told her how he told Ava and Dwayne about the pregnancy.

Family.

Ava. Dwayne. Afia. 

They’re family, and Solana can only count the days until she can share her big news with the rest of her family.

“Twins?” Afia gasps, face filled with awe. “What a blessing.” Curiosity brimming, she inquires, “do you know the genders yet or…..”

“Girls,” Solana answers, hand over her belly, overcome with pride. “They’re both girls.”

“Solana….” Afia’s laughter is light and so joyful. “Congratulations. You are going to be an amazing mother.”

A compliment Solana could never tire of hearing. Reassurance she needs in some ways. “Thank you.” Clearing her throat, she wipes at her eyes, sharing, “it’s….it’s nice to finally be able to have someone to talk to about this, about….being pregnant.”

Afia laughs. More heartily this time. “Well, I am an open book for any questions you may have.” She smirks, leaning back and crossing her arms. “I do have some experience with this, you know.”

And Solana is instantly filled with such happiness, such relief in some ways, because having only her doctor and Roman talk to about her pregnancy is fine, but not enough in some ways. Because her doctor can only help from a medical standpoint, and Roman’s knowledge is obviously limited. 

So, Afia, another woman, another mother, being available to offer insight is invaluable.

In more than one way.

“Afia….” Solana is the one to sit forward, gaze focused on the woman opposite her. “You know Matteo and Roman are brothers….don’t you?” 

She has to. Her wording basically confirmed as such. 

“I do,” she answers. Nothing more.

It’s not needed though.

“Then….then I need your help with something else, too.” Because this family has already been so broken, so shattered, so unhealed. It’s time to change that. Solana is determined to make a better, cohesive, healed future for her girls and this next generation of children.

“I’m listening.”

Solana takes a deep breath, pushing aside any amount of self-doubt. “I want to help Roman and Matteo actually be brothers.” She explains, offering with just as much determination, “our children will be cousins, and I want them to have a relationship. I want them to be close, but I don’t know if that can happen if Matteo and Roman don’t form some kind of relationship.”

Form a brotherhood. 

Afia nods, clearly taking in all of the information, Solana a bit unsure if she should have waited. If maybe she came on too strong, that doubt trying to creep its way back in. And then, Afia smiles, simply asking, 

“Where should we start?”

—------------

Roman wasn’t expecting to see his wife again until later in the evening. They both had busy days, her with her training with Afia and work, as well as him with work. So, he’s more than surprised when she shows up at his office looking every bit as fine as she is in a sexy, little red piece. It’s far too easy for him to bark for everyone to get the fuck out of his office so that he’s left alone with said wife. 

But, as the room is quickly cleared, he can’t help but wonder what brings her to see him. She’s always a sight for sore eyes, but he can’t shake the feeling there’s something behind this surprise visit. 

Her smile is bashful, something similar to shyness, a bit of a thing she’ll probably always have around her husband. “Hey.”

“Hey.” His eyes move over her, a mixture of studying and admiring. Her body has always been divine, but the slight changes he’s noticed because of her pregnancy have only elevated her to a delectable category. “You alright?”

She nods. “Yeah, I just….I wanted to see you.”

Roman’s eyes flitter to something curious. “Baby, we just saw each other this morning.”

She shrugs with one shoulder and chews down on her bottom lip. “I know, but….” Solana looks around, focusing mostly on the door, almost expecting someone to walk in. To interrupt. Even though she has a feeling anyone with a brain knows not to interrupt the Tribal Chief when she’s around.

When his wife is present.

“Solana?”

Him calling her name pulls her from wandering thoughts. Solana redirects her focus back to him, trying her best to think on how to word it. In the car, on the way here, it seemed a lot more straightforward, but now standing here in front of him, it’s anything but.

“I…..” Solana breaks away from him, sliding her purse off her shoulder and placing it in one of the chairs on the opposite side of his desk. She feels his gaze never leave her as she hops up on his desk, ankles crossed. An intentional gesture. “Do—do you have a meeting soon?”

Curiosity gleams in his warm brown eyes as he walks over to her, a simple two steps with his long legs. “Define soon.” When she doesn’t answer, he skips right to the chase. “Solana, why are you really here?”

It’s not asked rudely, just something conceived from dire intrigue. 

Solana leans forward, palming the edge of his desk for support. “You know I was…..I was cleared this morning,” she reminds. An unnecessary thing given Roman was right there next to her at her appointment this morning and heard that same things that she did. “I’m…..I’m not on pelvic rest anymore…..” Her voice slides into something quiet and unsure, similar to the way she’s looking at her husband. A husband whose face is filled with knowing and realization.

“Solana….” A pained, almost rough iteration of her name as he moves closer and lifts her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. “Why are you here?”

There’s something about how it’s asked, the heaviness and almost need in said question, the way Solana knows that Roman knows exactly why she’s here.

And she tells him just as much.

Just, in her own way.

Solana closes her knees together to force her husband a few steps back, and when he does so, she proceeds to lay back on his desk just enough to give her the room she needs. Sliding her dress up higher, dangerously high, it’s when she slowly spreads her legs once more and Roman’s eyes flint downward that she sees it.

Sees the way his jaw clenches, his eyes gloss over with an undeniable and unmistakable amount of lust.

“Fuck, Sol…..”

Her mouth slips into something similar to a smile. “Exactly.” She leans up just enough to reach for him, to pull her between her open legs that reveal her exposed cunt and the fact that she’s not wearing any underwear. Solana glides her hands up his chest, cupping his face, as she murmurs, “I want you…..”

Roman’s eyes shut, his voice strained. “Here?” He moves his hands to her hips, tugging her forward. “I would have come home….”

“We can do it again when you get home.” It comes out before she even really realizes what she’s saying, a shocking thing that takes them both back. Solana’s cheeks heat up as she clarifies, “if—if you want.”

“You know I always want that with you,” he assures, kissing the corner of her mouth. He looks at her, lust briefly replaced with all the seriousness. “Are you sure?”

It’s a question that doesn’t even require any sort of contemplation. “Yes.”

The ‘s’ has barely left her mouth when Roman smashes his lips over hers with a hunger that’s equally yoked. Solans moves her arms around her neck, pulling him closer, savoring the feel of his full lips on hers, the intimate, intricate dance of yearning and longing. Roman slides his tongue into her mouth, evoking a yawn as she tightens her thighs around his waist.

Roman groans and drops his mouth to her neck, Solana’s lips parting, her hands to the back of his neck as he sucks on her sensitive mouth and moves his hand over her breast, palming them. She moans and arches her back, oh so sensitive to his touch, a combination of it being far too long since they could be together in this way as well as the changes her body has started to undergo due to her pregnancy.

Solana moves her hands up to slide his suit jacket off, something Roman assists her with as he tosses it off in the distance, uncaring of how it falls onto the floor. He moves to kiss her again, Solana smiling into said kiss only to gasp when Roman nudges his hand in between her legs. 

“You get so wet for me, baby…..” His tongue darts out and over his bottom lip, watching how the pleasure from just a simple touch has her head lolled back. “Lay back a bit for me, sweetheart.”

Solana doesn’t have to be told twice. Excitement fills her as she follows his request. Roman moves his hands to her hips, tugging her a bit forward on his desk as she rests on her elbows. Looking down at him, Solana watches his eyes gloss over with that returned lust, that hunger that always seems to fill him whenever they’re intimate.

“You have such a pretty pussy….” It’s the way he licks his lips and moves to his knees that has Solana’s nails scraping against the wood of his desk. 

And, he hasn’t even touched her yet.

“Keep your legs open for me.” A soft, sultry command that doesn’t need issuance, Solana already adjusting her body and scooting down the desk. But, Roman quickly switches gears, deciding on something different. 

“Fuck it.” Is the last thing Solana hears before her husband has his face buried into that sacred, dripping apex of her thighs. 

“Roman,” she shouts, immediately biting down on her bottom lip to try to keep herself quiet, a difficult task as Roman sucks on her clit with all the urgency and need in the world. “Oh my…..” Her head falls back, her fingers moving to the top of his head. Solana moans as Roman adjusts her legs, one over each shoulder, heels falling off, her calves squeezing against his back.

His thick warm tongue working that magic over her most sensitive bud has her struggling to remain quiet, to not alert anyone outside of the safe space of his office just what carnal activities are transpiring. 

He pulls away, and Solana just about loses it, “I wanna hear you, sweet girl. Stop being so quiet.”

Solana would love to look down at him, meet the dazed, lustful gaze that must fill his eyes, but head thrown back, chest heaving up and down from the sensations of it all make it hard to do so. The same way it’s damn near an arduous task to muster up a verbal reply. “It’s….your office….they’ll—shit—they’ll hear.”

Roman growls lowly and tugs her closer, Solana shooting up off the desk when he thrusts his tongue back inside her. “Ro!”

“Good,” he sounds, face immersed back into her pussy that has his beard soaked, her essence dripping and making a mess all over a $50,000 desk. “Let them.” He’s never been so unbothered. “Let them hear you’re mine.”

Solana whimpers and writhes as he continues to eat her out within an inch of her life, bringing her to kingdom come and back as she comes all over his face and into his mouth, the Tribal Chief lapping up every ounce of it like it’s his last supper. And Solana has truly gone too long without being intimate with her husband, because it’s almost naive on her part for her to think one is enough. 

No. Roman has a minimum of two to three. Two to three times he has to make her come with his mouth, some assistance from his fingers but mostly that talented tongue of his. On several occasions, he’s made it clear, in several graphic ways, just how much he enjoys this. Enjoys going down on her, so much so that Solana has learned trying to push him away as she comes down from her orgasm only makes him pull her closer, as he starts his journey to bringing her to heaven all over again.

It’s too much and yet exactly what she’s been wanting. Been needing. 

And it’s with that same need, she grabs him by the back of his head and presses their lips together, tasting herself on those same, talented, full lips when he’s finally and fully satiated. 

Solana’s hands can’t move fast enough to reach for the belt, but she’s no match for the speed in which Roman has his pants undone and her perched on the edge of the desk, ready and waiting. 

And the minute his thick mushroom head pushes into her, Solana grips his shoulders, the wince on her face more than enough to cause him to stop.

“You alright?” His voice drips with concern, Solana able to feel him pull back just enough, prompting her to shake her head. 

“I’m fine,” she assures, holding him, pulling him closer. “It’s just….it’s been a while.” Too long. “Please—please don’t stop.” Because that’s absolutely not what she needs. She needs him, and she needs him now. 

Roman still looks a bit reluctant, Solana silencing his doubts by pressing her lips against his and maneuvering her hand in between their bodies to reposition him. “Please….” 

Roman obliges, Solana’s hand dropping and moving to grip his shirt as he carefully inches himself into her. She bites down on his shoulder, uncaring of the lipstick stain now on his shirt. “Oh my God…..”

It’s a bit of a burning sensation, somewhat painful, something similar to their first time, but it’s expected. Solana expected there to be some difficulty taking all of him again after such a long period of time. Doesn’t make her want him any less though. Want this any less.

He kisses her temple, asking. “You okay?”

A soft smile and sincere answer. “I’m okay.” Because it’ll never not move her with how attentive and caring he always is, even outside of their sex life, but it somehow seems more prominent in this aspect of their relationship.

Solana can absolutely tell and feel when he’s completely inside of her, an overwhelming sensation that’s been missed even more than she realized. She squeezes his shoulders, whining almost, “move….”

Again, always wanting to assess her comfort, Roman looks down at her, studying her face. Needing that reassurance, and the minute he receives it, Solana is already gasping, feeling him pull out just enough to slide back into her, the tip of his long, thick dick pressing that spot inside of her.

“Yes,” she moans, the pleasure easily and quickly overpowering any amount of discomfort. “Ro….”

His thrusts intensify by the seconds that pass, the slick feeling of her pussy, hugging and tugging his dick with all the need. “Like that, baby?”

“Yes.” She cries, overwhelmed in the best sort of way. “Just—just like that, oh—”

Solana moans when Roman moves his hand under her ass, lifting her up just enough to switch and change up the angle. God, he feels so good.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” Roman’s voice is heavy and deep with need, his mouth traveling the perimeter of his  face. “Missed being inside this pussy.”

Solana feels numb, feels so many, too many things to say anything. Can only continue to lock her ankles above Roman’s ass as he fucks into her, his hips thrusting against and into her, driving her delirious in some ways. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, Sol.” Roman tips her forward once more, eager and needing to dig into her, to continue to feel her come undone around him. “Good ass pussy gripping my shit like this.”

“You’re so deep.” It’s impossible how much he fills her, the fullness that consumes her, the pleasure that he brings her. “Mmm feels amazing, papi.”

“Fuck, Sol,” Roman curses, squeezing her ass, pumping into her harder, deeper. “If you weren’t already pregnant….”

Solana smiles as he buries his face into her neck, his mouth ghosting over the collarbone of her fully healed tattoo. The tattoo for him. A reminder of her love and devotion to him.

It’s that devotion that fills her and drives her to make him look at her, her hands cupping his face, “mine.”

His eyes shut, his forehead pressed against hers, vowing, “yours.” She clenches around him, both nearly coming in that same moment. “Always yours.”

Solana gasps, intakes sharply as he claims her mouth in a kiss that’s broken by her moan, loud and heavy. “I love you,” she whimpers, nails digging into his clothed shoulders. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you, too, baby,” he murmurs, never once stopping his delicious thrusts, his determination to bring her over the edge, to take her to that wonderful place only he knows the way to is unwavering. And with each thrust, with each reminder of his love and devotion for her, Solana’s caring for who, if anyone, overhears dwindles.

She doesn’t care.

This is her husband.

The father of her children.

The Tribal Chief, and she, his wife. 

His a faletua.

The Wife of The Tribal Chief.

She can do whatever she damn well pleases. 

And she does, as she comes, still uncaring of anyone hearing her moans, of how vocal she is at how good her husband makes her feel. The way she savors in the way he once again buries himself into her neck, groping her big breast as he too reaches his climax, emptying his seed all into her. Solana clutches her legs around him, wanting all of it. Everything he has, she wants.

In all the ways. 

She holds onto him, enjoying the feel of his big, strong body leaning, resting into hers. She kisses his temple, again reaffirming her love for him.

And after a few minutes of silence, he speaks, voice low with lingering need. “You need to come visit me every day.”

She giggles, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. “I just might.” He’s still buried inside of her, growing soft, but she swears she feels his dick jerk at her reply. “My….drive has been…..high.” 

Because, it has. Because while Solana has completely understood the need for pelvic rest and would do so for the rest of her pregnancy to keep her babies safe and healthy if necessary, the lifting of said restriction is something she’s also very much looked forward to the past few weeks. Especially as her sex drive has spiked ten levels. Another pregnancy symptom.

One she’s elated to no longer have to suppress. 

The implication with her pronunciation of the word drive makes Roman look up, his gaze filled with desire and baseline level of excitement. “I can take care of that.”

She smiles, eyes darting from his eyes to his lips, whispering, “yeah?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, closing the gap between them, leaning over her body, laying her back on the desk. Solana giggles against his mouth, already feeling—in more ways than one—where this is headed.

Would be headed.

“....I keep trying to tell you, Roman don’t care if I go—OH MY GOD!”

Solanna’s scream of horror is just about what and what with Jimmy’s as he quickly scrambles to shut the door. Solana tries to hide her face into her husband’s chest, her husband who barks at his cousin to “get the fuck out!”

Embarrassment fills her as the two of them move to separate, Roman looking every bit as irritated—or enraged—as he feels. Solana’s hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with continued horror, the sound of Jimmy outside the door a soundtrack to this quite unexpected scene.

“Alicia! Get the bleach! And the Lysol! And the CDC! I need one of them yellow suits they had in Monster’s Inc!  

—----------

Roman was in a decent mood after starting the day off with Solana’s OB-GYN appointment and was in an even better mood when his wife surprised him with a visit. A visit that resulted in them being intimate intimate again after far too long. But, that better mood was immediately squashed the moment his dumbass cousin interrupted them, the same cousin who sits at the same conference table as himself, Dwayne, Matteo, and the Wise Man, still going on and on about what happened a good two hours ago.

“Don’t make no damn sense,” Jimmy scowls, randomly spraying Lysol around him, setting the personal sized can on the table. “Ya’ll couldn’t go somewhere else?”

Roman’s expression is every bit as bored as his tone. “It’s my office, Jimmy.” He lifts his eyes, voice even as he reminds. “I’ll fuck my wife all over that space if I want to.”

It’s then that Matteo gives a look of understanding. “Is that what you’re so upset about?” He asks Jimmy, scoffing and sharing. “I’ve done the same with my wife plenty of times in my office. It’s normal.”

“And, I don’t have a wife, but Lord knows I’ve done some things in my office as well.” Dwayne smirks, leaning back into his chair. 

Jimmy makes a face, mocking the two men. “This ain’t about ya’ll!” He dismisses them, pointing to himself. “This is about me. I am a victim!”

Matteo looks toward his brother and asks in Italian. “Is he always like this?”

Roman rolls his shoulders, answering in the same language. “Unfortunately.”

“I mean, that’s why they make bedrooms. Ya’ll could have done that shit at ya’ll damn house,” Jimmy continues to object, shaking his head, nose turned up. “It was like walking in on my little sister or something.”

Roman rolls his eyes, suddenly curious. “You really think we’ve only had sex in our bedroom at our house?”

At one point, the answer was yes. When they first started being intimate, Solana still growing into her comfortability with sex, yes. It was limited to the bedroom, as that was her comfort level. But now? Especially in the days and weeks following her return from treatment? Roman has easily made his wife come on every available space in that damn house. 

A realization that has Jimmy just about ready to throw up. “You mean I been contaminated?” His eyes are wide and filled with horror as he lifts the can of Lysol, spraying much more than necessary, evoking a fit of heavy, violent coughs from the asthmatic Wise Man. “I’m suing!”

Dwayne and Matteo share a chuckle at the ever dramatic Jimmy, while Roman decides it’s time to switch gears. 

It’s time to get to business.

He sits forward, asking in an unmistakably irritated voice. “Where are your brothers and dad, Jimmy?”

It’s a shift in tone and energy that makes all the men sit up straight, even Jimmy, who answers, “I don’t know, man. They knew to be here.”

“But, they’re not,” Roman finishes. He glances at the expensive watch on his wrist, frustration growing exponentially seeing they’re almost 15 minutes late. 

Unacceptable. 

“Wise Man.”

Paul stands up almost immediately. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“Call—” Roman’s directive is interrupted by the arrival of the missing parties themselves. In walks in Rikishi, followed by his sons, Solo and Jey. 

All wear unreadable expressions with the exception of Jey who looks annoyed, and that only pisses Roman off more.

To show up late to a meeting called by the Tribal Chief is one thing. To show up late and deepen that disrespect by looking irritated is a whole other level of contempt.

Roman rolls his shoulders and tries to settle himself by focusing on the objective of said meeting.

Even if that same objective is most likely going to exacerbate an already tense situation.

Once everyone is settled, Wise Man naturally steps into the role of mediator. 

“Gentlemen, thank you for your attendance today,” he starts out, Roman partially listening, mostly focused on how Jey is focused on the wall of windows across the room rather than the discussion that’s about to change everything. Like, he doesn't care.

It’s infuriating. 

“Your Tribal Chief has called this meeting today for a very important reason given the….less than unfortunate events that have transpired over the past few weeks and months.” Unfortunate is one way to put it. “Now, please understand, your Tribal Chief has thought long and hard on how to proceed and respond to these events in a way that is fair and just, but still—”

“You’re all out.”

Roman’s interruption is short, blunt, and concise. A simple sentence with a hefty weight behind it.

Rikishi is the first to respond. He sits forward, removing his glasses. “Excuse me?”

Solo and Jey exchange confused expressions. 

“You’re all hereby removed from my cabinet and relieved of any current, higher up Bloodline duties,” Roman continues his explanation, also sitting forward, studying the non-verbals of each man. “Solo, you’re also removed from Solana’s security detail. You and Jey will be joining the trainers and training new recruits. Rikishi, your primary task will be whatever the Elders assign you with. Just know it won’t be coming from me.”

“Is this a joke?” It’s the first thing to come out of Jey’s mouth as he looks over at Jimmy who’s also just as confused. An expected thing given this was a decision made between Roman, Dwayne, and even Matteo, given how closely connected he’s come to Bloodline business. Especially as he was privy to Jey’s latest and last outburst. “You gotta be fucking with me?”

Roman’s voice is even and challenging. “Do I look like I’m joking?” A rhetorical question to a stupid ass question.

“Roman, this is madness,” Rikishi objects, his voice also even as he looks between his two fellow ousted sons. “How can you—”

“You all have disrespected me, disrespected my reign, my leadership in one way or another.” He’s tempted to add in ‘my wife’, but ultimately goes against it, already knowing they’ll try to say this is personal. Even if, in some ways, it is. “I don’t stand for that shit from anyone.” Not even family. “I’ve killed for less.”

And, they all know this. 

“Fucking training?” Jey sneers, slamming his fist on the table. “You demoting me to a goddamn trainer?”

Roman growls, reminding, “you’re lucky demoting you is all I’m doing.” The Tribal Chief doesn’t hesitate to remind his hot headed cousin of the straw that broke the camel’s back. “That shit you pulled at the party was fucking unacceptable, Jey. Acting a fucking fool on neutral territory in the presence of Escobar and his men? You should have fucking known better.”

Jey responds by jumping up out of his seat, chair falling back onto the floor. “This some bullshit, Roman, and you know it!”

Jimmy also stands up, moving over to try to calm down his brother as Dwayne breaks his silence. “Your temper makes you a liability, Jey. We can’t have that.”

“You either learn to control it, or it’ll control you,” Matteo advises, studying the way Solo remains surprisingly calm in the face of upsetting news. It’s….interesting, to say the least.

Jey growls, “man, you stay the fuck out of this! You ain’t even fucking family!”

“That’s enough, Jey,” Jimmy tries to advise, even though Jey is clearly past the point of conversing. “Roman, this ain’t…..this ain’t a forever thing, right?”

Roman feels all eyes on him as he answers without hesitation. “We’ll see.”

It’s only then Solo gives some indication of his true feelings. Rage. Slowly, he stands, and as he does so, Matteo sits forward, as if ready and waiting. But, Rikishi places a hand on his son’s shoulder. The two share a look before the Elder responds, “is this really what you want to do, Uce?”

No. Truth be told, it’s not really what Roman wants to do, because while he’s always butted heads with Jey at various points over the years, like he’d told Solana that one time, he knows—or knew—the twins always had/have his back. And vice versa. Knew they’d die for him the same way he’d die for them. 

But, things have changed. Feelings have changed. Whatever lied dormant all these years has resurfaced, and Roman has no idea if, and when, it’ll settle.

And what he ultimately wants to avoid is the other alternative. The one that he and Jey utilized years prior. 

Tribal Combat.

Something Roman was victorious in at that time, but not something he wants to have for a second round. Because the stakes are higher this round, much higher. Because while Roman was simply allowed to defeat his cousin and call it resolved the first time. The second time, he won’t be as lucky. 

This time, with everything that’s happened, Jey’s public display of disrespect, Roman can’t just defeat Jey in combat. 

He’d have to kill him.

It would be to the death.

And while Roman isn’t sure he could ever admit this aloud to anyone, not even Solana, it doesn’t negate the fact that deep down, he’s not sure if he could do it.

He doesn't know if he could kill Jey, and not because of lack of ability but lack of want.

He doesn’t want to kill Jey.

So, that’s why this route is the route he must take, and it’s why he answers calmly, “yes.”

And, it’s with that, his decision is made. Final and without appeal options. Roman motions for the Wise Man to see the now three disgraced men out of his office, his flushed face advisor moving to point and usher the four men out.

Jimmy leaves with his brothers and father.

It’s only when he’s alone with his cousin and half brother, Roman sees Dwayne nod, advising, “you made the right decision, brotha’.”

“You made the only decision,” Matteo agrees. 

Roman looks away, silent and questioning. 

Because while the satisfaction of knowing one problem has been handled should settle the Tribal Chief, the nagging feeling that another entirely different one has just been created is something he can’t push away. 

—-----------

It’s a battle of senses. Roman’s sense of smell fights with his auditory system as he steps foot into the home. He smells the delicious aroma of whatever his beautiful wife has prepared for them this evening, and he also hears the music that’s playing through the speaker system throughout the home.

A small smile falls on his face as he walks gingerly toward the room where the music seems the loudest and the scent of dinner—and more—lures him. 

Roman proceeds gingerly when he’s in the vicinity of seeing her, but her not seeing him. The smile is conjoined with a warm feeling that only she evokes as he realizes not only is she singing along—he loves to hear her sing—but she’s playfully dancing around the kitchen as well. 

Roman maintains his safe distance to secure his ability to observe. To see the big smile on her beautiful face as she moves around the kitchen, one of those god-awful shirts Jimmy has made for him every Christmas on her frame that Solana stumbled across and has commandeered for herself ever since. And with her is Dulce, tail wagging, jumping up on her hind legs every so often as she “dances” with her mom.

But, it’s the way she occasionally brings her hand to her stomach, lovingly, protectively, that moves Roman the most. The way her eyes briefly close, clearly taking in this moment of pure bliss and long-deserved happiness. 

A similar feeling for him as well.

This. This is what he needs. Her. Her light. Her love. The balm she is for him on even his hardest days, and today is definitely up there on the list of difficult times.

You got a fast car

Is it fast enough so we could fly away?

Still gotta make a decision

Leave tonight, or live and die this way

A brief thought crosses Roman’s mind, an idea that prompts him to step away and head for his office. Hitting the light, he moves over to the bookcase set where his Canon sits. Years of experience allows him to switch the lenses and adjust the settings in a matter of minutes, allowing him to return without alerting his wife of his presence.

He starts with photos, snapping and capturing this moment in still shots. But then, the desire to bottle all of it—audio and video included, fills him, prompting him to switch to the record option. Roman watches her through the viewfinder, admiration abundant. 

So, I remember when we were driving, driving in your car

Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk

City lights laid out before us

And your arm felt nice wrapped around my shoulder

And I, I had a feeling that I belonged

I, I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

Solana spins around and laughs at the sight of Dulce also spinning around, but it’s also in that moment she becomes aware of the fact that she’s not alone.

Solana shouts in a mixture of surprise and fear, slapping her hand over her mouth. “Roman!” It’s the initial shock of seeing he’s present followed by the awareness that he’s also recording. “No. Ro, I look terrible!” She tries to hide her face, prompting him to remind her of what he’ll gladly spend the rest of his life doing.

“You look beautiful.” His compliment grants him her dropping her hands just enough to give away the fact that she’s hiding a smile. “You always do.”

Solana doesn’t say anything, just nervously darts her eyes up and down, asking, “how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.” Roman stops the video and lowers the camera to walk over to her. Solana leans up and wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him, as he murmurs, "missed you today.”

Because, he has. Any moment not spent with her and instead spent dealing with bullshit just intensifies that ache and borderline empty feeling he has whenever she’s not around.

Her smile is wry and playful. “You just saw me this afternoon.”

Roman absolutely picks up on the fact that she’s teasing him from his response to seeing her this afternoon, prompting him to remind her, “I did more than just see you, baby.”

“Roman!” She squeals when his hand drops to her bountiful ass, giving a squeeze. “Stop it.”

He’ll do no such thing, but he will allow her to bring him over to the stove. One hand holding his, Solana uses the other to stir around whatever is in the pot. She then grabs another smaller spoon, scooping up some and lifting it to his mouth. “Try this.”

He does so, easily. It only takes a second for the taste to set in. “It’s delicious,” he compliments. “But, everything you make is good as fuck, Sol. You know this.”

Her cheeks redden, as she explains, “it’s a new recipe I was trying. Got it from Afia. It’s Nigerian. Something called Gizdodo,” she says the name with uncertainty, sheepishly admitting, “I was worried you wouldn’t like it.”

“Solana, I love everything you make.” He loves everything about her, including and especially her excellent culinary skills. “Except that damn soup.”

Solana rolls her eyes, taking the spoon to toss it in the sink. “Roman, don’t start with that.”

“It’s not that it’s not good,” he defends. “It’s good as hell. There’s just nothing to it, and I’m hungry an hour later.”

Solana rolls her eyes and moves over to him, hands on his chest. “Ro, you’re hungry an hour later even when I don’t fix you soup.”

“Yeah, but I’m hungrier when it’s soup.”

Shaking her head, she goes to take the camera from him, pointing out of the kitchen. “Go change, so we can eat. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Roman answers by kissing her temple and lightly slapping her ass, prompting her to giggle as she playfully pushes him away. Dulce barks from the floor, clearly wanting his attention as well. Chuckling, he kneels down and pets her. “Hey girl,” he gives her a brief belly rub before sending her to resume her stalking of Solana by the stove. 

15 minutes later, he’s out of his work clothes, dressed in sweats and a short sleeved shirt, finding his wife still by the stove. He realizes she has the same song as before playing clearly on repeat.

Roman moves behind her, arms around her waist as she leans back into him, explaining softly, “my mother loved this song.” A quiet admission as he kisses her temple in a comforting gesture. “She—she used to play the original all the time while she cooked, and I used to dance with her, and in those moments, everything was fine. It was just….just me and her, and we were happy…..I was happy.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, just allows her to speak and share freely. He knows she's been working with Gail on processing her confusing feelings towards her mom and would never do anything to make her feel invalidated. Hate. Grief. Love.

It's all valid.

Her eyes shut, and she sighs heavily. “We’re not going to be like them, Ro.” Solana turns her head to look up at him. “We’re not going to be like our parents.”

It’s one of the easiest things he could agree to, and some of it, he can’t deny, is due to the conversations he’s had with Lita about the very same thing. “No. We’re not.”

She smiles, but it’s small, weighed down with memories of the past. He can relate entirely. “They’re gonna have a childhood.” She turns around again, so her head remains tilted back into his strong chest. Roman’s hand snakes down to her belly, protective placement. “A happy one…”

He’s in agreement. 1000%, but there’s something about her sentiment, a combination of all the conversations they’ve had the past few weeks that has him sharing something he’s gone from briefly contemplating to seriously considering. 

“Sol….” She looks back up at him, expression expectant. Roman lifts his hand to her cheek, index and thumb gently tipping her chin. “Let’s move.”

Naturally, she’s confused, her smile almost reluctant. “W…what?”

“Not out of state,” he clarifies. Though, if possible, he wouldn’t be entirely opposed to that either. Away from all these damn people. “A new house.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “A new house?”

The shock in her voice makes him chuckle. He nods. “Yes, baby. A new house.” The hand on her stomach moves around in a small circle. “Let’s build something. You tell me what you want in it, and I’ll have it made.” Solana continues to look astounded, Roman adding in a small voice. “A nice backyard for them….”

Solana turns around, forcing his hands down and to her hips. “You’re….you’re serious?”

“Yeah,” he answers. Roman lifts his hand to the small of her back, further explaining as he looks around. “This place is mine, and it’s been mine for years. It’s yours too, but it’s got more me than you, and I want it to be us.” He moves to cup her face, asking gently, “does that make sense?”

Because this house has been solely Roman's for so long, holds so many memories and experiences that no longer represent the future he wants. This was his bachelor home.

And, that's not what he wants anymore.

He wants a family home.

He wants to give his wife the home she wants and his daughters the kind of home that they deserve.

“It does.” Solana slides her hands up his chest, locking them behind his neck, her lips curving into a wide smile. “We can really build our own house?”

He chuckles. “We can do anything you want, Solana.”

She giggles, scoffing in disbelief. “Then….” She bounces a little against him, a clear sign of excitement. “Then let’s build a house.” Roman smiles as she moves to hug him, gasping and asking, “wait, I can design my own kitchen?”

“I’m certainly not going to do it,” he answers, chuckling when she slaps his arm. He watches how delight fills her eyes. 

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” she muses, sharing with continued elation. “I can have a kosher kitchen!”

“I have no idea what that means, but sure.”

Solana rolls her eyes and hugs him again, murmuring into his chest, “thank you.” And before he can remind her once again that she never has to thank him for anything he does for her, she peers up at him with those mischievous eyes. “Gotta start preparing for our six kids, huh?”

She’s quick to move away, giggling and opening cabinets to pull out plates. “Don’t start with that shit again, Solana.” Her laughter continues, a stark contrast to the serious expression on his face. He’s almost certain that one sentence alone has spiked his blood pressure. But, it pales in comparison to what his numbers must be when he catches onto something. “Did you just say six?”

—---------

His breathing is heavy, her fingers gliding up and across the sheen of sweat across his back. Roman continues to pulse inside of her, coming down from yet another shattering orgasm, every drop of his cum depleted inside of her addictive pussy. 

Solana kisses his temple, evoking a contented sigh. Carefully, Roman lowers one of her legs from off his shoulder and removes himself from her, plopping down on the bed beside her. Seconds later, she’s moving on top of him, laying against him.

“Ya know…..” Solana pants, clearly trying to catch her breath. “For someone who claims he doesn’t want a lot of kids, you sure do love doing the thing with me that can give us all those kids.”

He scoffs, explaining, “you’re already pregnant. I don’t need to be careful.”

Curious, Solana inquires, “and when I’m not pregnant anymore?”

Roman shrugs, continuing to glide his fingers up and down her arm. “Then, we’ll be careful.”

A scowl falls on her face, Solana unwilling to hide her displeasure or her stance. “I’m not getting on birth control. I don’t want to.” And she knows he won’t make her either. Will respect that decision and her. “So we start using protection–

Roman is immediately shutting that shit down. “I’m not using condoms.” 

Solana smiles knowingly, burying her face into his chest. 

No condoms. 

No birth control.

She’s certain she’ll end up pregnant again in a matter of months after the twins are born.

Roman will just have to deal with the “consequences” of them being so sexually active without any barriers to protect them from pregnancy. 

He’ll be fine. 

She snuggles even closer to him, dwelling in the comfort that always comes with being pressed against his body. He always makes her feel so safe when they’re cuddled together, but there’s something about this time that deters that. A feeling that nudges at her, prevents her from doing so, from getting comfortable, because it feels so obvious.

It’s why she sits up and looks down at her husband, asking, “what’s wrong?”

Solana is expecting him to deflect. She knows he’s been trying hard, working hard in therapy, to be more open with her, but it’s still a struggle. So, it partially surprises her when he answers, “I need to talk to you about something.” 

And right away, she knows she’s not going to like whatever he’s about to share. “O—okay.”

Roman’s hesitation is visible and palpable. “I know….I know you want this pregnancy to be as normal as possible, and I want that too. I want to be able to give you that—”

“And you can,” she cuts in, anxiety rising with the way her chest is starting to feel a little tight. She thought they already discussed this. “You have.”

His eyes briefly dart to the side of the room. “Years ago, when there was….a protocol when the wife of the Tribal Chief was pregnant. She....she would spend the pregnancy….away.”

Yeah…..Solana knew she wasn’t going to like this conversation. 

At all.

She sits up completely. “Roman, what are you saying?” His silence is damning. “Are—are you sending me away?”

“No.” A relieving answer preceded by a stressful follow-up. “Not…not unless I have t—Solana.” He stops mid-explanation as she kicks the sheets off and moves to get out of the bed. “Sol—”

“No,” she cuts him off, voice icy and slicing. Solana looks over at him, face filled with confusion and distress. “I can’t—I can’t believe you would even suggest that.”

Roman also sits up, running his hand over his face. He knew this wouldn’t be something she would enjoy hearing, but it’s something she needs to hear regardless. “Baby—”

He tries to reach for her, only for Solana to jerk away from him as she rises out of the bed. He ultimately decides to let her leave, closing his eyes when she slams the door to the bathroom. 

“Fuck….”

Again, it’s not that he expected Solana to be thrilled about this, especially as they’d discussed just this morning just how excited she was about all of this. About experiencing this pregnancy with him, and he can’t deny that those confused feelings he was experiencing about said pregnancy at the beginning have started to gradually shift to something likened with excitement.

That there was a sense of joy that filled him hearing confirmation that Solana is in fact pregnant with twin girls. Just like their dreams.

Dreams that have slowly been becoming a reality, but there’s also a darkness to his reality. One that places Solana in a tremendous amount of danger once news of her pregnancy starts to reach the wrong ears. 

And while there is some hint of decreasing that danger by “leaking” the fact that she’s carrying girls and not a boy, so not an heir, that’s something Roman could never be okay with. Nor does it take away the danger of her pregnancy being “public,” because her pregnancy, no matter how they could try to spin it, just puts an even bigger target on her head.

And, it’s that target that he finds him struggling with. It’s been there since the day she became his wife, but the fact that it’s even bigger, or will be, is unsettling to him. It’s why he’s found himself thinking of ways to minimize that risk, and the biggest, possibly best way, would be to have Solana spend the rest of the pregnancy in hiding of sorts. 

He’d maybe even consider letting her go to Mexico. Let her be around with family. But clearly, she’s not okay with any of that. 

At all. 

And, it’s not as if he’s thrilled about it either, because while he’s still working through feelings about being a dad, there’s a small part of him that feels a sense of grief at possibly not being able to experience that with her. Her first pregnancy. Their first pregnancy.

But, that grief is largely outweighed by his desire to protect her. Protect them.

He’ll do anything to keep his family safe.

Anything.

The sound of the shower running alerts Roman to the fact that Solana won’t be coming back to bed anytime soon, which is why he finds himself kicking the covers back, finding and sliding on his boxers and stepping over to the bathroom. 

He’s not surprised to find the knob unlocked, already knowing she just wanted space in the moment, not to not be around him at all.

It’s why he quietly closes the door behind him and walks over to the shower, seeing the backside silhouette of her nude frame standing under the running water. Roman removes his boxers and is careful, meticulous in the way he opens the shower door to join her without actually disturbing her.

Naturally, he moves to stand beside her, his arms around her, gently turning her around to face him.

“Shit.” Roman knew he upset her, expected as such. He just didn’t know how much he upset her, because the water droplets swimming down her face, trickling from her bangs can’t hide the fact that she’s clearly crying. 

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he’s immediately apologizing, kissing her forehead, eyes shutting. “Please don’t cry.” Because she’s the only person on this earth that he actually cares about upsetting. It’s the last thing he ever wants to do.

The sound of her sniffling is a punch to his gut, but not as painful as what fills him hearing her soft, quiet, desperate response. “Please don’t send me away.” He looks down, meeting her teary, scared eyes. She shakes her head. “I can’t—I can’t do this without you.”

Sentiments she’s expressed before, especially after her nightmare a few weeks back, but something she obviously feels the need to reiterate. 

“I’ll—I’ll do whatever you want me to do, but—but not that.” She swallows, her voice shifting into something more determined, fierce almost. “I am with you. Always. No matter what.” She moves her hands up to his face, whispering, “to the end, Ro.” Head tilted, lips pressed together, she asks in a quiet voice. “Okay?”

Roman nods. He won’t risk further upsetting her. She can’t afford it. Not…not in her condition. 

He leans down to kiss her before reaching for the wash cloth laid across the shelf and motioning for her to turn around so he can wash her. An act of love and affection that she reciprocates for him before they both find their way back to bed, Solana sleeping peacefully atop him.

But, it’s short lived sleep for Roman who eventually escapes the sanctuary of their bed and trades it for the seat outside on their balcony.

Something....something is off.

He can't put his hand on on it, but he feels it. The situation with Jey, Rikishi, and Solo could be it, probably is a large part of it, why Roman can't shake this uneasy feeling.

It could be Cosa Nostra related, because things have been quiet on that end. Perhaps too quiet. But, Dwayne and Matteo continue to reiterate that the few men they trust back in Italy continue to keep them in the loop, and nothing has raised alarm.

Matteo has even been ever transparent regarding the reports he sends back to the Administration regarding Roman's activity. All truthful. Nothing damning.

But, all of that is what makes it so difficult for the Tribal Chief, because a tangible issue is a solvable issue. An invisible one is nothing but a possibility that may be nothing.

Or may be something.

And Roman knows he would have to have something to justify sending Solana away. She would need a clear answer, an explanation as to why he's doing the very thing she begged him not to do. And telling her it's because he has a hunch that something is off simply won't cut it.

Roman sits there for a good half hour, thinking, overthinking, and something beyond that even. He goes over it all, from the moment he first met his wife to the moment just a few hours ago where he agreed to her request. He evaluates it all, not from Roman, the man in love with his wife, but from The Tribal Chief, the protector.

The warrior and fighter who recognizes the one and ultimate goal in this situation. 

Protection.

Because he lost his family once before.

He won’t lose them again. 

Eventually, Roman walks back into the room. He moves over to the side of the bed where Solana is on her side, sleeping peacefully, completely oblivious to the decision her husband has come to. 

He crouches down beside her, watching her, studying her face before his attention drifts downward. To her stomach.

Wordlessly, he reaches a hand to place it atop the thin sheet, settling it atop her belly, those damn feelings intensifying all over again.

“I don’t know a lot about any of this.” Something he’s gradually coming to grips with with every day that passes where he learns something new about the two tiny human beings growing inside of his wife. Roma’s eyes fill with something that can only be likened to dedication. “But….one thing I do know how to do is how to keep you safe.” His voice is low, whispered, drenched with vulnerability that would never leave the sanctuary of this space. “And, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you and her safe.” His eyes fill with a sense of dread, regret, and immense determination. “Even if she ends up hating me for it.”

[aventurineswife]

Hey! I read your Star Rail fics and loved them! So i wanted to ask/request an idea (only if you want to of course!😊) A Ratio x Reader where the Reader is Aventurines sister👀. She worked at the ipc before but now switched to work at the Inteligensia guild. She becomes good friends with Ratio during that time (and maybe they both start to get a tiiinyyy crush on the other😉). I have two ideas about how Ratio would find out: first; One day the two of them were having their break together when Aventurine comes in, bringing something that Reader forgot at home (maybe Lunch?) Ratio hears that and wonders just how Reader even met Aventurine or why they are appearently living together(getting a little jealous~?)...until Aventurine reveals that they are siblings.

Second; Ratio has to bring something to Reader, maybe she forgot something, so she sends him her adress and Aventurine opens the door. Ratio is completely shocked, because how could a Person like you, who is the complete opposite of Aventurine (Reserved, soft-spoken, polite, likeable...Ratio's words, not mine😅) be related to him??...As time passes their feelings for eachother become deeper...and Aventurine's keen observations notice it. He completely supports the two, acting as a wingman and teasing Ratio that someday they could even become in-laws😅(i really hope this isn't too long😔) Have a good day or night😇!

Through Jealous Eyes

Summary: You, Aventurine's younger sister, have joined the Intelligentsia Guild, where you’ve grown close to Dr. Ratio. During a break, Aventurine drops by to bring you your forgotten lunch, leaving Ratio surprised to learn about your sibling relationship. The revelation before stired unexpected jealousy and curiosity in Ratio, leading to subtle tensions and unspoken emotions between you both.

Tags: Ratio x Female!Reader, Slow Burn, Sibling Dynamics (With Aven), Subtle Jealousy, Fluff with Tension, Confessions in Progress, Found Family Themes, Mutual Pining.

Warnings: Mild Emotional Tension, Mentions of Sibling Teasing, Subtle Romantic Undertones.

A/N: I went with the first one 🤭😋

The Intelligentsia Guild was bustling as usual, the halls filled with the hum of intellect and ambition. Ratio was at his usual perch, his focus unwavering as he sifted through ancient texts, deciphering long-lost knowledge that might shift the tides of understanding across the galaxy. His hair, slightly tousled from his intense concentration, partially veiled the sharp gleam of his eyes, which were ever watchful for any new breakthrough.

But his mind kept drifting. It wasn't the texts that distracted him, but the person across the room—the one who had become his most unexpected and intriguing acquaintance: you.

You, the newest member of the Guild, had transferred from the IPC to pursue your own interests in knowledge and exploration. From the very first day, Ratio had noticed you—your sharp wit, your curious mind, and the subtle warmth that surrounded you. You were different from the usual guild members. Your eyes, often alight with passion, always seemed to spark something in him. He couldn’t quite place it, but there was something about you that made him… curious.

Perhaps it was your innate ability to see through the layers of his intellect to the emotions lurking beneath. Maybe it was your quiet, determined nature, which matched his own in many ways. Or maybe it was simply that, as you worked together, your conversations had evolved into something more… personal.

But there was one thing Ratio didn’t know about you: the mystery of Aventurine.

It was the usual break time when you and Ratio decided to take a moment to relax in one of the quieter corners of the Guild. You had a few papers scattered on the table, but there was no real urgency in your conversation. The two of you often found it easy to slip into a natural rhythm, exchanging ideas, laughter, and even fleeting moments of silence, which spoke louder than words.

As you took a sip of your drink, your phone buzzed.

“Ah, sorry, I think that’s my brother,” you said, glancing down at the device. “I’ll be right back.”

Ratio, who had been sipping on his own drink, raised an eyebrow at the mention of your brother. You were always vague about him, but it wasn’t uncommon for you to mention Aventurine in passing. He had never really thought much about it, though. Why would he? You were a capable, brilliant individual in your own right. But there was a nagging curiosity in him that he couldn't shake.

It wasn’t until Aventurine appeared, breezing into the room with an easy confidence that mirrored your own, that Ratio felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest. He was carrying a lunchbox—your lunchbox, to be precise—and handed it to you with a smirk.

“I knew you’d forget it again,” Aventurine said casually, giving you an affectionate ruffle on the head. “Next time, maybe you can actually remember it, hm?”

You laughed softly, your smile warm as you took the lunchbox from him. "Thanks, Aventurine. You always know when I need saving."

Ratio, who had been watching the interaction in silence, couldn't help but feel a strange tension coil in his chest. There was something about their easy rapport, the way you accepted the lunch with such familiarity, that made him... uncomfortable? Jealous, perhaps?

He cleared his throat, his gaze lingering on the exchange. “I didn’t realize you two were so close,” he remarked, his voice a little sharper than intended.

You looked up at him with a surprised expression. “Oh, yes. Aventurine is my older brother,” you explained, your voice softening with a touch of affection as you spoke his name.

Aventurine flashed a grin at Ratio, clearly enjoying the confusion he had caused. “You didn’t know? I guess it’s because my dear sister tends to downplay her family a little. Too modest for her own good.”

Ratio blinked, processing the new information. Siblings? How could he not have known? He hadn’t connected the dots before, but now that it was laid bare before him, it made perfect sense. The way you carried yourself—so confident, so sharp—could only have been influenced by someone as calculated as Aventurine.

But then came the realization that hit him harder than expected: Why did this matter to him so much?

He felt an odd sense of discomfort. It wasn’t jealousy—at least, he told himself it wasn’t—but the way Aventurine had so casually interacted with you, as if the two of you shared an unbreakable bond, made Ratio’s thoughts spiral in ways he hadn’t anticipated. He wanted to understand this dynamic between you both, and more than that, he found himself wanting to know you more.

“Well, that’s quite a surprise,” Ratio said, his voice lacking its usual warmth. He tried to mask the slight tension in his shoulders, but it was no use. He couldn’t shake the sense that something had shifted.

Aventurine, clearly enjoying the subtle unease he’d instigated, raised an eyebrow. “I see you’ve taken quite a liking to my sister,” he teased, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Don’t worry, Ratio. She’s as sharp as a blade, but she won’t bite.”

You gave him an exasperated look, as if this teasing was far from new to you, but Ratio noticed the way your eyes flicked toward him, your expression unreadable for a brief moment. Was it possible that you were… aware of the tension?

“I’ll let you two get back to your conversation,” Aventurine continued with a wink, turning on his heel and making his way out of the room. “But don’t take too long. I’m sure we have more to talk about, right, sis?”

As the door closed behind him, the silence between you and Ratio stretched. You stared at your lunch for a moment before glancing up at him, your expression softening.

“Sorry about that,” you said with a small, apologetic smile. “Aventurine tends to be a bit… much, but he means well.”

Ratio simply nodded, his gaze not leaving your face. He could sense there was more to your words, something unspoken between the two of you. Something he hadn’t been privy to until now.

“No need to apologize,” he replied, though his voice was quieter than usual. “I just… didn’t realize how close you two were.”

You met his eyes, a glimmer of understanding in your gaze. “We’ve been through a lot together,” you said simply. “But I’m not defined by him, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Ratio’s heart stuttered at the way you phrased it, as if there were something more between the lines of your words. A rush of emotions—curiosity, confusion, and something he couldn’t quite place—washed over him.

“I’m not worried,” he muttered, his eyes averting from yours as he quickly returned to his work, hoping his voice didn’t betray him. “I just… didn’t expect to learn that.”

You chuckled softly, a sound that somehow seemed to calm the storm building inside him. “Well, now you know. And maybe that’ll help you understand me a little better.”

Ratio couldn’t deny that it did. But there was still something else lingering in the air between you two—something unspoken, a tension neither of you seemed ready to acknowledge.

And as he sat there, pretending to read the texts in front of him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was closer to understanding you—and himself—than ever before.

[trustmypoison]

Which tropes fit SVT?

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘hi jj! i don't know if you already did this but can you please write something about how svt members met y/n? Its either at a place or from a friend feel free to refuse if you're not comfortable with it I'll understand 🤗’

A/N: The more I wrote of this, the more this became a ‘which tropes fit best’ sort of thing. To the requester, I hope you understand and still enjoy! (I tried not to let my soft spot for some of my previous works sway this too much, but….)

Seungcheol - coworkers to lovers

I think he pours so much into his work that a lot of times you’d have to get his attention at work. With him as an idol, that could look very different and doesn’t have to be an idol x idol thing - think staff, producers, choreographers, or simply just office employees that he might bump into. I think he’d appreciate and be attracted to someone’s work ethic more than most members. 

Jeonghan - fwb to lovers

He just screams ‘it wasn’t serious until it suddenly was’ to me. Like, he would get involved with someone was a way to pass the time and blow off some steam, and he’d be genuinely convinced that that’s all it is. But when you’re vulnerable with someone like that, you sort of get to peek into their soul. So I think feelings would sneak up on him sooner rather than later. (And I do not think he’d always handle that gracefully.)

Joshua - brother’s best friend

(I will finish this fic. I will finish this fic. I will finish this fic!!) I think he’d meet someone through a friend and not think much about them at first. He doesn’t have a problem with that person, but one day it feel like being hit by a bus because he’s finally seeing that person. Like really seeing them. I don’t think he’d be very reserved about going after that person, but he would try to do it in a way that doesn’t upset his friend. 

Jun - costars to lovers

I don’t have an explanation for this one really, it just feels like destiny to me. Like he’d do his best to be professional and respectful, but he gets easily swept up in playing up the romance because of who he gets to play it up with. 

Hoshi - grumpy x sunshine

Guess which one he is??? But, really, can’t you see it? A partner that looks mildly annoyed when he’s so excitable, but would never ever ever make him stop. Him being really understanding of a grumpy partner’s boundaries and subtly maintaining them all the time. Grumpy partner being absolutely ruthless when someone gives him a hard time?? (Where do I sign up? I love this guy so much.)

Wonwoo - roommates to lovers

I think he’s slow to open up, but you have to show some vulnerability whether you like it or not when you live with someone. The proximity, the shared space, the seeing each other in their natural habitat? It would be painfully intimate whether he likes it or not. And I think he’d start to come around to it and have a soft spot for his roommate. 

Woozi - grumpy x sunshine

Guess which one he is????? I promise I’m not reusing this out of laziness, I’m just such a sucker for Woozi and Hoshi’s friendship dynamic, and I think that sort of dynamic would work in a romantic relationship too. I think he’d be hesitant to admit it, but he’d really benefit from someone that makes him loosen up and relax. Someone who injects some excitement into his life outside of work. Or someone who’s simply not shy about giving affection because he may never ask for it. 

DK - golden retriever x black cat

Now this is distinct from grumpy x sunshine in a way that I just don’t have the faculty to describe. I just have this image that he’d be the best person to be with if you find yourself in a dark spot sometimes. He’s simultaneously understanding and pulling you out of your slump, if only for a little bit. Maybe I’m projecting, but someone who’s sort of traumatized could really use someone like DK that is so genuinely kind. 

Mingyu - golden retriever x golden retriever / friends to lovers

Okay, I couldn’t pick. I just picture that he’d make friends with someone that is just like him in a split second. And it’s probably just friends for a long time. You guys go out and have fun and like to be the life of the party and the center of attention. And it might become more on totally accident. I think he’d struggle initially because it was just friends, how did it change? 

Minghao - enemies to lovers

I think he doesn’t let people in quickly. In fact, he might leave a bad impression at first because he can come off as cold and unfriendly. This could come about in so many ways - academic rivals, coworkers that hate each other, or maybe you share mutual friends and have never gotten along. But his soft spot would start to show slowly and it might take some time for either of you to become comfortable with the fact that such a soft spot exists because you’re so used to the hate. 

Seungkwan - the slowest of slow burns

I just get the vibe that everyone around you both are just screaming ‘please get together already, I’m sick of this!!’ Like, they might even try to set you guys up and get you both to finally admit that you like each other. But the catch is that for a lot of those attempts, you don’t even realize you’re into each other!! This is so painful for everyone else around you and you both are terribly confused by the overwhelming relief everyone shows when you’re finally together. 

Vernon - the (un)requited love

Picture that you guys are mutual friends, maybe not close, but close enough for him to know he’s into you. And he will never say anything about it. Basically no one knows about that either because he’s sure it would be a waste of time since you aren’t into him. Like, he thinks he’ll go to his grave never saying anything about it. So imagine his surprise when you just casually admit your feelings. He won’t know what to do with shock. 

Chan - opposites attract

This one is also distinctive from grumpy x sunshine or golden retriever x black cat. What I mean by opposites attract is that he’s got a massive amount of confidence and he would actually be into someone that is very humble and maybe even a little unsure of themselves. I think he likes to be a cheerleader for others and he also thinks it’s sweet if someone does not know how to take that sort of support. 

[sarahcmarie]

The batboys are REALLY good at makeup due to the fact that they have to do things like cover bruises from patrol and undercover work and all the teams learn this at some point all in different ways but although their night jobs helped them hone their make up skills that doesn’t mean that’s where they learned it from

teen titans

Dick was in the circus he helped clowns and performers do their make up which lead to him being very good at make up at a very young age especially make up that looked good in bright unflattering light or in pictures

Dick was hanging out with everyone at titans tower and Wally and Roy get into an argument over who would be a prettier girl it gets to the point where they are ready to throw hands so dick just decides the best way to settle the argument is by TURNING them in to girls so he puts some of his super high quality wigs on them and does they’re makeup and everyone votes (i will let you decide who wins) but afterwards Donna asks where he got the stuff…. Dick is now the go to for all the girls when they need their makeup done

Young justice

Tim is a socialite He had to learn at a very young age how to use makeup and how to make it look natural for galas and such eventually he learned how to do very impressive and complex makeup looks although he never wore heavy makeup in public he did in private

The core four was chilling in the living room when Cassie says she want to do barts makeup but Kon said he wanted his makeup done too Cassie told him to wait until she Finished barts but Kon starts complaining and huffing after about 5 minutes while Tim was trying to get his report done but couldn’t focus with kons complaining so he walks up and grabs him by the ear and drags him to the couch and starts putting makeup on kon some time later when Tim is finished Cassie and Bart look over at Kon and gasp Kon thinks Tim did badly and is prepping to make fun of tim for it but looks into the mirror and realizes he looks Gorgeous (even more than usual) later when they start dating Tim does kons makeup before galas

The outlaws

Jason Todd loved his mom very much even with all her flaws that was his mom and his mother loved him too but do to her addiction she often looked sickly but after Jason’s dad died they needed to find a way to make money nobody hired Catherine because they only saw an addict Jason learned how to do makeup so that she would look presentable for interviews and it worked and so Jason did his mothers makeup every morning up until she died

Artemis Needed her makeup done for a undercover mission at a gala but she doesn’t wear makeup often especially not glam makeup so she wasn’t sure where to start Jason said he would do it and although Artemis was reluctant and insulted Jason many times she allowed him to as she didn’t have much of a choice due to her lack of experience in the makeup department after Jason was finished she found that Jason had made her gorgeous yet unrecognizable (which worked fine given it was an undercover mission)

The super sons

Damian was a child in the league more so he was the heir to the demons head so they trained him harder than most other league members as he needed to be the best if he was going to lead the league of assassins which ment training till his Knuckles were bleeding his bones were broken and he was passing out from exhaustion but fighting wasn’t the only thing they trained him in they taught him history and languages and and anything he could possibly need to know to one day succeed in his position as the demons head although he had many classes his favorite was learning how to use makeup both for disguise manipulation and distraction the reason it was his favorite was because his mother taught him personally Ra’s Al ghul although didnt approve of teaching him to use makeup allowed it because although he may have been a bad person he was not a bad grandfather and he saw how much Damian enjoyed it and Talia loved teaching Damian personally even if she didn’t have time to teach him all of his lessons she made Time to teach him this one

Jon noticed a boy in his class who wore makeup everyday and Jon thought it was sooo cool and told him all the time how awsome his makeup looked one day he found the same boy crying in the stairwell with his makeup smudged when Jon asked what was wrong the boy told Jon that kids were bullying him for his makeup that they said makeup was for girls and started calling him names which included multiple slurs Jon was livid Jon didnt get angry often but he was now how could anyone not see how complex and impressive the boys makeup was? After school Jon flew straight to Damian’s house because he was angry and really needed to tell someone about it after hearing what happened Damian who after seeing some pictures of the boys makeup was just as angry as Jon after all Damian saw how impressive the boys makeup was so they came up with a plan… the next day Jon had on a full face of makeup that included glitter and rhinestones and bright red lipstick courtesy of damian and his makeup skill Jon also got made fun of except Damian had already coached Jon on exactly what to say the bully’s ended up in tears Jon ended up in the principals office but both jon and Damian both believed it was worth it After hearing what happened although Lois and Clark lectured them on how to properly handle it next time they also got an extra scoop of ice cream at dessert  

[jeankluv]

The tale of the fox and the knight - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 02

summary: You have been living all your life in almost isolation due to your true nature, one your parents want to hide and protect you from anyone finding it. But when the spring of your 20 year your parents grant you the wish of being able to walk around the city, you meet him. Your doom. Satoru Gojo, a white haired knight whose intentions in your eyes are unkown. And whose presence in your life will change everything, from how you see the world to your way of being.

words: 4,9k

tags: enemies to lovers, blood, eventual smut, Gojo is pretty rude at the beginning, Gojo ooc, betrayal, fantasy, magical creatures, angst, injuries, heavy language, no use of y/n or minimal use of y/n, female protagonist

Warning for this chapter: it contains kidnapping and violence

notes: it’s been so long, but until last week I wasn’t done with exams, fortunately, if nothing happens I will be able to be more active bringing more chapters soon. If everything goes well Birdie next chapter will be out soon too.

materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist | ao3

— sorry for any typo that could be —

You felt your body numb, your limbs hurt and your body was leaning on something hard and cold. You were completely frozen.

Your eyes began to open slowly, the sun was not very high but you could see your surroundings clearly. You were in a forest and a little to the left there was a river that accompanied the sound of birds singing.

“Scream and I will cut your tongue.” You trembled when you heard those words.

Turning your head you saw the figure of a man dressed completely in dark colors, a cape covering his hair and a face mask, you could only see his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw them clearly.

“Satoru?”

What was happening? Why was Satoru dressed like that? Why did he tell you that?

You tried to move, trying to reach him but it was then when you noticed. Your hands were tied together.

“What…?” You said looking at them.

“You can try to get loose, but I highly doubt you’ll be able to undo the knot I’ve tied.” Satoru moved from where he was and approached his horse.

The morning breeze seemed much colder and sharper after hearing those words. “What do you mean?” Your voice came out trembling from the back of your throat. “Satoru, this isn’t funny. Untie me! We must return to the castle and find out what happened.”

Satoru chuckled. “I thought you were smarter, I guess I was wrong and you are just a stupid princess.”

Everything started to crumble, you felt how your world started to shake as Satoru’s words hit you right in the face.

“I don’t trust him.”

Utahime told you. She warned you, but you didn’t pay attention to it, you just ignored it.

Your hands clenched, wrinkling your dress, the dress Utahime had worked so hard to make. Now it was dirty, torn, and you didn't know if Utahime was okay, if your parents were okay, if everyone in the castle was okay…

“Was it you?” You said, not looking at him, not wanting to see his face.

Say no, say no please.

“Yes.” The dagger dug deeper into your heart.

You pressed your lips together tightly, digging your upper teeth into your lower lip, so much so that you could taste blood entering your mouth.

Your gaze lifted to look at the person in front of you.

Satoru smirked, this was not the princess he had known. That look you were giving him could bury him alive, but Satoru didn’t care.

“They are alive?” You whispered, afraid to hear the answer.

Satoru dropped to the ground, and crossed his legs, while biting into an apple. “Who knows.”

“You are…” But your words were left flying in the air.

“I am what?” He raised his chin arrogantly. “Come on, talk.”

“A monster!” You yelled. “Soon they will find me and… and they will catch you and you will pay for everything!”

“And when will yours pay?” You heard him murmur. “That won’t happen.” He then said with his normal tone. “Now change to these clothes.” He threw a bunch of clothes to your side.

You looked at them, they were a similar colour to his clothes. “No.” You said. “I’m not changing. I won’t go with you or follow your orders.”

Satoru sighed and scratched his forehead, irritated by your words. “Would you rather I take off your dress?”

Your face paled slightly and you swallowed hard. His voice sounded so different from what you were used to that it was almost scary. “No… I’ll do it…” You said, grabbing the clothes and holding them against your chest. “But… it’ll be a little difficult to do it with your hands like this.” You looked at your tied hands and then at him.

Satoru looked at your hands and stood up from where he was, your heart racing when he pulled out a dagger from one of his side pockets. “Don’t try to escape, bunny, or I’ll hunt you down.”

“I won’t.” You tried to sound as firm as possible. “But turn around.”

“Don’t worry bunny. I’m not interested in you at all.”

You shouldn't have felt anything after hearing those words, because the man before you had betrayed you in everything, but they still hurt.

The rope fell and you carefully got up from where you were. Satoru turned and walked to his horse with his back to you. You walked a little further, far enough to find a sheltered place where you could change.

You needed a plan, something to escape. That man was not the one you had known for 5 months, you couldn't think of the possibility that through your words he would change.

His gaze told you that it wouldn't happen, that you shouldn't even try. The blue, which reminded you so much of the paintings of the sea, was no longer there. Now it was a dark blue, dark like a stormy night.

Utahime's dress fell to your feet and a small sob escaped from your lips. You didn't want to cry, you didn't want him to see you shed a single tear, you wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

The icy cold of that morning hit your skin and you quickly put on the clothes that he had thrown at you. They were dark clothes, suitable if you wanted to go unnoticed. The fabric looked worn and was not very warm. With that outfit you would be unable to survive the Zerua winter.

You turned around noticing how Satoru was still with his back to you, caressing his horse. Grabbing Utahime's dress in your hands and wiping away a few tears, you walked towards him.

“You done?” He turned around, giving you a brief look through your hold body, stopping on your red hair.

With a few steps he was inches away from you. “What…?”

“Your hair… It’s too conspicuous. Something needs to be done about it…” He tangled his finger in your lock of hair. Your eyes met his.

Why couldn’t this be a nightmare? You wanted to wake up in your room and see that it had simply been a bad dream, that Satoru hadn’t stabbed you.

“What are you thinking, bunny?” You heard his voice and you snapped, hitting his hand away from your hair.

“No, leave my hair.” You said holding the lock that was on his hands before.

“Bunny, you have two options…” He showed his two fingers. “Or you dyed it or you cut it.”

“I’m not doing any of that!” You told him with anger.

He sighed. “You want me to chose?” He got closer to you. “No, right? So chose.”

You bite your lip with anger. “I’m not doing what you tell me.”

“You want me to get angry, bunny?” He moved and you walked a step away till you hit a tree. “I’m being nice letting you choose.”

You held your breath as you looked at his eyes, how was it possible he faked his own personality so good during those 5 months? Everything he showed you was just play? Was that the real Satoru?

Before you could say a single word, Satoru’s big hand covered your mouth, preventing you from saying anything at all. His gaze sharpened, and you could feel his body tense up.

He was nervous.

It was then that you heard some voices, getting closer and closer. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but you knew they were coming towards you.

Maybe that was your chance, you could ask for help. Go home.

Determined, you grabbed Satoru’s hand and pulled it away from you. “Help!”

Satoru covered your mouth again and his voice came out hoarse from his throat. “Shut up.”

Satoru’s grip tightened as he looked at you and you felt scared. But you couldn’t stop there, that might be the clearest way for you to run away from him.

Clenching your fist you hit Satoru in the ribs, the moment he loosened his grip you hit him in the chin causing his grip to disappear completely.

Given that opportunity you ran in the direction of the voices, you needed to get there as soon as possible. You could go back home, to your parents, to Utahime, to everyone. Your feet moved quickly, getting closer to your destination.

You pushed aside a few branches when you found yourself face to face with about five men. Their clothes indicated that they were not from the royal guard, they were disheveled.

“Please, I need help.” You spoke after a moment of falling silent.

The men looked at each other and then one of them smiled. “Of course, what's wrong?”

You looked back, looking to see if Satoru was nearby. “A man kidnapped me. And… I need to go home.”

“Did he kidnap you?” He smirked, making your skin crawl.

“Boss, look at her hair!” One of the men said excitedly.

“It’s red!” Another exclaimed, looking at you.

“How much do you think they’d give us for her?” Another asked.

“With that hair color? A lot for sure.” The last man finally spoke.

Your heart rate began to rise rapidly and you took a step back. You had escaped from the claws of a ferocious eagle only to fall into the mouth of a pack of wolves.

The group began to approach and when you tried to run away, one of them grabbed you by the hair, throwing you to the ground.

You couldn’t help but sob at the pain and fear you were feeling at that moment.

“Tie her up.” The sturdiest of them all spoke. “And don’t make a single mark on her, you know the price will go down if she has a scratch.” He grabbed your face as he looked at you.

You broke free from his grip but the one holding you shook you, causing you to whimper. You closed your eyes tightly as you prayed for that moment to pass quickly and for someone to appear and help you.

The voices of the group of men mixed with the sounds of nature. But that peace was interrupted when a child pierced your ears.

Your eyes widened and you watched as one of the men lay on the ground, dying in pain.

“Bastard!” You heard another scream.

It was then that your eyes saw him, the white hair that reflected the faint rays of sunlight that passed through the branches of the trees.

Satoru was there, he looked much larger and creepier, so much so that it made you shiver when his gaze met yours. It almost seemed like his eyes were red and not blue, no shade of blue could be seen in his gaze.

One of the men lunged at Satoru with his sword and you gasped in fear. The one next to you grabbed your arm tightly and pulled you, trying to get you away from the scene.

You watched as Satoru easily dodged each sword strike, as if it were child's play to him.

“Come on!” The man yelled at you.

“Let me go!” You yelled back, throwing your arms in the air trying to hit him.

“Shut up!” He yelled as he pulled you tighter.

Satoru was too focused on fighting the other men to see the situation you were fighting. You couldn't depend on him either, especially knowing that he was someone ruthless too.

You shook yourself trying to get him to let you go but to no avail, his grip was stronger than all your strength. You began to move away from where all the commotion was happening.

The man had your hair tied tightly, almost as if his life depended on it, he walked in front of you and your head was looking at the ground, you could only see his feet as he practically dragged you. No matter how much you hit him with your arms, you were clumsy and weak.

What could you expect from a princess who had been sheltered in a castle all her life? Nothing.

The man stopped walking abruptly, causing your face to crash into his back. With your eyes still closed the man pulled you.

“Don’t take another step!” He shouted.

Your eyes widened as you felt the sharp blade of the sword touch your throat.

“Come on…” You heard Satoru laugh, he was standing in front of you. “You have no choice, haven’t you seen your friends?” He tilted his head.

“Bastard…” The man whispered through clenched teeth, tightening his grip and moving closer to your face. “One cut and it won’t be worth anything, you know that right?”

“I don’t care.” Satoru said with disdain.

You gritted your teeth at his indifference and looked at him with contempt, and he just smiled.

The man started laughing, as if he had lost his mind. “You know what…” You felt the intense pain when the sword grazed your cheek and you sobbed. “Keep it, but I...” He pulled at your hair. “I’ll keep this.” With the sword he had used to hurt you, he cut your hair. “Red hair, this will make me rich.” And he turned to walk away.

Your knees hit the ground and the metallic taste of blood touched your lips. You didn't look up, your mind was too far from reality to look at what was happening around you.

Satoru, for his part, sighed in frustration as he watched the man begin to walk away. You had wanted to run away from him and in the end you ran into some smugglers from the mountain.

Satoru reluctantly grabbed his bow and one of the arrows he was carrying with him. Closing his eyes, he aimed at the smuggler who was getting further and further away. The string tightened and just as it had tightened, it loosened and the man fell to the ground.

Satoru turned his eyes back to you, who still had your head down.

“Come on, get up.” He said, passing by you to get his arrow.

The sound of birds and leaves breaking under his feet was the only thing that could be heard during the time that Satoru walked towards the corpse of that man. He forcefully pulled out the arrow and cleaned it before putting it back.

You were still on the ground, not moving, almost like a statue. Satoru scratched his head frustrated and walked towards you.

“Come on princess.” He spoke, but still you didn’t move. “You should have listened to me from the beginning.” He said.

Satoru was startled when his back hit the ground and he felt your weight on him, you were looking at him angrily. Your eyes were wet and your face had turned slightly pink, because of the rage that was accumulated in you.

“It’s all your fault!” You screamed and began to hit him angrily. “Everything! Absolutely everything is your fault!”

Satoru took your blows, one by one, without saying anything until he got tired of your tantrum and grabbed your wrists, spinning you around and trapping you beneath him.

“Stop being a child, I told you not to do anything stupid and the first thing you did was run into the lion’s den.” His face came closer. “Did you live in such a bubble that they never told you about the mountain bandits?”

You gritted your teeth as you looked at him. “I hate you…” You whispered. “You don’t know how much I do… I hope they find us and you suffer the worst punishment.”

Satoru looked at you and then pulled you up from the ground. “I’m sure you do.” He simply said. “Now let’s go.”

You snorted and wiped the tears from your cheeks, you didn't want to go with him, but what other option did you have? None. Satoru was right. You were nothing more than a princess who had always been locked away in a castle, away from everything for her safety.

“If it makes you feel better.” Satoru said, looking at you. “The man who cut your hair is dead.”

You rolled your eyes and stifled an ironic laugh.

Silence fell again as you followed Satoru's steps. You noticed how Satoru had changed direction after a while. That wasn't the path you had walked when you had tried to escape from him. Was he trying to keep you from seeing the corpses of those bandits? You quickly shook that idea out of your head. You didn't want to paint the image of the person in front of you and convince yourself again that something of the one you had known was still there.

The dry leaves of the trees broke under your feet as you walked along a path. Your eyes were on the ground, checking where you stepped to avoid falling.

Satoru finally stopped walking and your eyes went up, finding his black horse. Its coat glistened under the bright sunlight. You carefully approached it and petted it gently, the horse responding by shaking its head and bringing it closer to you.

A smile appeared on your face, the first since you had woken up in that nightmare.

“He likes you.” You heard him say.

Your smiled dropped as soon as you heard him. “What’s his name?” You asked.

You needed to keep the whole situation as normal as possible, or else you would lose yourself if you were construido thinking about the situation.

Having a “normal” conversation would help you with it.

“You never told me.” Your voice slowly disappearing as you said those words.

“Name?” Satoru looked at you while putting a few things in a bag that he then hung on each side of the animal. “He doesn’t have.”

“How could you not give him a name?” You said following his movements.

“I didn’t feel like it, he is going to die eventually, so is better not to get attached to it.” He said. “Now, go up.” He moved his head to the horse.

“I can do it myself.” You said grabbing the reins and the seat. You pushed your body forward and tried to get on, your leg failed and you fell back to its initial position. Closing your eyes you blew. “You can do it.”

“We don’t have all day.” You heard Satoru speak behind you.

You let out a growl and tried again, you don’t know if it was the anger you had inside or the fact that you didn’t want to hear Satoru’s voice again that made you manage to get on the horse.

You sat proudly on the top of the horse and look at Satoru with arrogance.

“So the princess can really ride a horse?” Satoru said.

“Didn’t you say we didn’t have the whole day?” You responded with irony.

“And actitud…” He said and sat behind you. “Alright bunny, let’s go and remember to follow my words.”

“Don’t call me that.” You looked at him over your shoulder. “And keep your hands on the reins.” You said and turned your gaze away from him.

“Alright…” He said your name this time and your heart jumped.

Stupid heart.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Utahime injuries weren’t severe, but what hurt the most weren’t the injuries, it was her heart which ached everytime she remembered you.

Looking at the empty room Utahime felt an urge to cry.

Where are you, princess? Are you okay?

That bastard, I know he was not trustworthy.

“Iori.” She heard her name being called.

Utahime turned around, whipping away the tears she had. “Yes?”

The other maid hesitated, but she finally spoke. “I heard they might have a clue.”

As soon as the maid told her everything about it Utahime rushed to the place. Her knees hurt, but she didn’t mind, she needed to hear everything.

She entered without a knock, she knew someone of her status shouldn’t do that but she was too anxious to think about anything else.

The room fell silent when she stepped in, all the eyes were locked in her.

“Oh! Utahime dear!” Your mother tried to move from her seat but Utahime quickly moved to her.

“Her majesty, please don’t move.” Utahime held her hand.

“Utahime, my baby, where is she?” That was the first time Utahime saw the queen so vulnerable.

“I don’t know…” She said defeated.

“You were her closest maid, right?” An old voice filled the silence of the room.

Utahime look at him, he was one of the elders, one of the king's advisors and one of the reasons for your contact with the world.

“Yes sir.” Utahime responded.

“So maybe you know what happened to her.”

“I don’t sir.”

“Maybe you can confirm with us the fact that she ran away with her personal guard.”

“The princess wouldn’t do that!” Utahime said in a loud voice.

“How are you so sure, miss?” The old man smiled. “According to the people working for her, the princess looked very much in love with the guard. And now both of them are gone.”

Utahime gritted his teeth, you would never do that, cause an accident and run away? No, you loved that place, the people there, you would never be capable of that. “She would never…” Utahime’s words hung in the air when the door to the room opened.

Utahime narrowed her eyes as she looked at the figure standing there, it was a knight, he was wearing armor, but it was in poor condition, stained with mud and a crimson red color.

“Knight Geto!” One of the knights shouted approaching him.

Suguru Geto.

Utahime knew who he was, he was one of the knights in the castle, apparently a skilled one and one of the candidates to be the princess guard, but ended up losing against Satoru Gojo.

She narrowed her eyes, seeing how his arm was heavily injured and he looked like he came back from a battle.

“Hey! You are bleeding.” A knight spoke as he held him. “Stop! You need to…”

“I need to speak with the king!” Geto spoke and the room fell silent.

“Speak.” His majesty said.

“It’s about that knight, the escort of the princess, Gojo. He was plotting against the kingdom and I’m sure he was behind the incident that happened yesterday.” The silence felt heavier than before.

“Why are you so sure about this?”

“I found him receiving a message outside the castle.”

“And why didn't you warn everyone? Look what happened now! The princess is gone and who knows where they are taking her.” The elder spoke.

“I fought him…” Geto took his own arm. “But he was stronger than me.”

“So what? That’s everything you had to say?” The elder choked laughing. “We already knew this, tell us something new.”

Utahime saw how Geto rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Gojo mentioned something or at least that’s what I think I heard before passing out.” He sat down, sighed leaving his lips due to the pain. “He talked about revenge… something about what happened 20 years ago to his family.”

“That’s it?” The elder exclaimed. “You didn’t bring anything new to the table.”

“Enough.” His majesty the king finally spoke. “The princess has been kidnapped by someone who was close to her, we made a mistake by believing the lies that man told us when he joined our army.” He stood from his place. “Now what matters is finding the princess, before…” The king focused his gaze on the elder.

A mischievous smile appeared on him. “Exactly! The princess needs to be back. Put your best men to search for her.” He spoke to the commander of the royal guards.

“They will start searching as soon as they are ready.”

“I would like to…” Gato tried to talk.

“Aren’t you embarrassing enough? After being defeated by the enemy and letting everything happen you wanna help?” Geto felt silent as the elder spoke. “You.” He pointed at Utahime. “Treat him.”

Who did he think he was?

“Yes sir.” Utahime approached. “Let’s go and treat your wounds.”

Geto only sighed and he walked carefully besides Utahime, still feeling the anger on his chest after hearing that man’s words.

The room soon enough was only left with four people, the king and queen, who were holding hands trying to erase the anxiety that they were feeling, commander Yaga and the elder.

“Warlock… you think he is behind this?” The king spoke as he looked at the elder.

“It could be… the information about the princess' real identity might have been leaked.”

The king, frustrated, touched his face. “Yaga, I trust you to find the princess. Please bring my daughter back home and the head of that bastard.”

“Yes my king.” Yaga kneel down. “I promise I will bring the princess back home.”

“And Warlock… are you sure the information about the princess has been leaked?” The elder nodded. “I will trust you with the investigation, you have served my father before and me, I know you can do a good job to find the traitor.”

“I will do my best, my king.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Satoru could swear that you had snorted a thousand times, and probably rolled your eyes a thousand times throughout the journey.

The last rays of sunlight were beginning to set behind the mountains and not far from you the lights of a small village were beginning to appear. Satoru knew he had to be careful with you, you could try to escape again. But luckily for him you had gone quite far from the capital and if they had started the search it would still take them a while to find you.

When you finally reached the village the sun had completely hidden behind the mountains and the streets of that place barely had any life.

“We will spend the night here.” Satoru got off the horse and looked at you from below. “Can the princess get off by herself?” He said disdainfully.

You snorted and rolling your eyes you moved your leg to get off the horse without any complications. You looked over your shoulder at Satoru and smiled proudly.

Satoru just smiled. “Very well. Now.” He took a step towards you. “Remember, do as I say.”

“Do I have a choice?” You crossed your arms.

“No, since I need you alive.” Satoru said it casually.

You narrowed your eyes and looked at him. “Why? Do you know about…” You let the words hang in the air.

You shouldn’t talk about it, there was a chance he didn’t know and the reason for all of this was to blackmail your father for land or something else. But it wasn’t possible for Satoru to know about your secret, not when only a few people knew about it. Not even Utahime, the person closest to you knew about it.

“About what?” Satoru crossed his arms.

“Forget it. I’m hungry.” You said crossing your arms.

“Unfortunately, your personal chef isn’t here and I’m not going to be yours.” Satoru argued.

“I didn’t want you to be either, I’m sure you cook badly.” You said back.

“Come on, there’s a tavern open over there and remember, keep your mouth shut.” He whispered the last part into your ear.

You looked at him coldly and he just smiled. Your stomach rumbled and you touched it, you were really hungry. The walk to the tavern was short and silent, but the silence that had been created was soon interrupted by the hubbub coming from inside the tavern.

Satoru’s hand grabbed the hood and placed it over your reddish hair. You slapped his hand away and he rolled his eyes.

The two of you entered the tavern and were soon greeted by the smell of alcohol and smoke that made it practically impossible to see anything. You sat down at a table, a bit away from the crowd and near a window.

“You two are travelers right?” A man asked as he approached your table. “The journey must have been exhausting, what would you like to have?”

You bite your lip, you were really hungry at that moment. “We will have the chicken.” Satoru replied before you could even say anything.

“One for each?”

Satoru looked at you and smiled. “Dear, you will able to eat one full chicken?”

Dear? Was he pretending to be a couple so no one would suspect anything? You wanted to laugh. “Yes please.” You looked at the man and then back at Satoru. “And don’t call me that.” Satoru’s smile dropping as yours grew bigger.

“Oh I guess the couple is having problems.”

“Yeah, just…”

“We are not a couple.” You spoke with a smile.

The man looked at both of you and with a silent bow he left. Your gaze then met Satoru’s who was coldly looking at you. “What are you doing?” He said with a low tone.

“Nothing?”

“I told you to follow what I said right?” He looked at you with those intense blue eyes.

You rolled your eyes. “If you thought I was going to be the submissive princess you knew, I’m sorry but no.”

If you wanted to survive and go back home, you needed to change, you couldn’t flinch before him even when your heart still reacted at him.

You needed to be smarter than him and you needed to start by changing your attitude towards him. That was not the Satoru you knew and you couldn’t be the you he knew.

Satoru only looked at you, locking your eyes with his and feeling the burning anger that you had there.

final note: remember that this Gojo is completely ooc and that is a slow burn, and I don’t want to rush things with reader and Gojo so it will take time for them to start something. Also I’m not planning another couple in the story, just in case. But I’m planning on telling the castle pov from Utahime and reveal things of the story from her pov

— comment if you wanna be tagged

💌: @zoeyflower @faeriesworld101 @coffee-and-geto @alifromtheotherworld @fangirlingtod3ath @laeve-rae-alone @megumisthirdog @wlwkorrasami @starlight5cat @yourfaveava @manyno @kianatrg @iamtherealestet @tracysdemise @certainduckanchor @aloserprobably @glittercherry777 @sylussss7 @n1vi @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Jan 29th

~*~

1. hello!! for itmf does anyone know any canon divergence fics where wangxian enlopes, or, and leave their respectives sects - not needed, but a bonus, if there is everyone elses reaction to it

thank you!!

~*~

2. any fics that have the canon guidao, like that explores wwx cultivation as it was in the books/novels: the ghost path, not demonic cultivation, not making him crazy without control, hurting him, etc.

🔒 Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Flower Fall War by Anon_De_Plume (M, 32k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Nightless City, Canon-Typical Violence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Some people still do die though, JYL Lives, Not A Fix-It, Canon-Typical JC, Not really bashing but I didn't soften his canonical abrasiveness, Blood and Gore, Canonical Character Death, Canon Temporary Character Death, Guidao is not Modao, Golden Core Reveal, WWX in MXY's Body, Slow Burn)

~*~

3. i just reread kizukatana's "truth will out (when caught on video)" and i was wandering if anyone has a fic rec similar to it??

An Unscheduled Stream by trippednfell (M, 71k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Modern Cultivation, Misunderstandings, BAMF WWX, BAMF Wen Popo, WWX cultivates resentful energy but keeps his golden core, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Presumed Enemies to Lovers, Not Yunmeng Jiang friendly, Time Skips, Dual Cultivation - Not the Sexy Kind, but ALSO the sexy kind, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Horny wound tending)

~*~

4. Hello, are there any recs that are similar to Body and Soul by toosel on A03 ?

~*~

5. Hi, I'm looking for pics with gender non-conforming wei ying. Anything including; wearing feminine clothing, makeup, some type of non-binary, fluid or agender identity (NOT TRANS FEM OR MASC) in Canon, Canon-divergent or any non-modern Canon adjacent universe. I've already read resplendence by frozenmarvel so give me anything else you got @purplefuzzypickle

By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, WangXian, Mix of CQL and MDZS, Identity Porn, WWX has an atypical relationship with gender)

Wei Wuxian, Who's That? by bumbledees (T, 48k, wangxian, crossdressing, pining, sibling feels)

~*~

6. Hello, I'm itmf fics where wei ying doesn't have a close/good relationship with the jiangs (not bashing, more natural consequence of their behaviour to him) similar to stray cat by suprised_by_witches. Preferably where he finds support outside the jiangs/ doesn't reconcile with them or at least he isnt the one constantly reaching out to them

🔒To Speak Up by Vrishchika (M, 6k, WangXian, Modern AU, Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Not Jiang Clan Friendly, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Not Jiāng Chéng Friendly)

🔒Lessons in Belonging by Nyatci (M, 12k, WangXian, Modern AU, Childhood Friends to Lovers, POV LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canonical Child Abuse, Bad Parents JFM and YZY, Jiang Family Bashing, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Homophobia, Good Uncle LQR, background 3zun, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assumed Asexuality, but it’s just an assumption, some mild non-overly-explicit smut, Domestic Fluff, wangxian adopt a-yuan, 5+1 Things, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, Jealous WWX)

Love Don't Belong To Me by airinshaw (E, 28k, WangXian, Modern AU, Getting Together, Kissing, Intercrural Sex, Light Angst, Happy Ending, PTSD, Panic Attack, WWX's canonical self-esteem issues, Canonical Child Abuse, not as dark as the tags imply, Past Relationships mention)

~*~

7. I'm in the mood for fics where upon first meeting LWJ thinks WWX is a barely-holding-it-together hot mess only to find out later that WWX is working himself to the bone to look after A-Yuan and the Wens.

Any time period/AU is acceptable.

Bonus points if LWJ does a little grovelling for allowing himself to make assumptions.

My only requirement is that it's gotta have a happy ending! 💗 @greywake

🧡 i really want to know (who are you) by Stratisphyre (M, 19k, WangXian, WWX & LQR, Modern with Magic AU, Golden Core Reveal, Single Dad WWX, Reasonable Authority Figure LQR, Allusions to violence and murder, Hospitalization) fits but it just features A-Yuan, not the rest of the Wens

🔒the stars in the hazy heaven tremble above you by cicer (G, 64k, WangXian, Fantasy, Cinderella Fusion, Mutual Pining, Background NMJ/LXC, background JC/NHS) may also work but I think Lan Zhan is more annoyed by Wei Ying than thinking he's a hot mess

~*~

8. Itmf: a proper war time fic with baby juniors as a bonus addition ✨✨ @jaywuji

🔒 A Heart Undying by NonsensicalRambling (M, 114k, WangXian, Undead WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical dead things the burial mounds, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Eventual WangXian, No Yīn Tiger Seal, Morally Gray WWX, Animals Eating People, WWX’s questionable choices, Morally conflicted LWJ, Oblivious WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei, YLLZ WWX, Sect Leader WWX, LWJ & WQ have an Understanding) If 8 is looking for fics that describe the horrors of war, A Heart Undying does an excellent job but does not feature the Junior Quartet.

🔒 Forget Myself in Memories by geethr75 (T, 10k, WangXian, XuanLi, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Time Travel Fix-It, Juniors travel to the past, Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Past WWX meets future WWX in MXY's body, Past JC meets future JC, Sect Leader JL, Sect Leader OYZZ, Sect Heir LJY, Fluff and Angst, Mostly Fluff, Happy Ending, JGY dies as MY, SS and JZ dies, JGS dies, WQ and WN lives, JYL and JZX Lives, no golden core transfer, No golden core melting, Alternate Timelines)

Stubborn Shadows by secretlyteo (teobunn), teobunn (T, 24k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, mostly based on donghua and cql)

Time Travel, Obviously by nirejseki (Not Rated, 1k, Time Travel, Crack)

Lan Yuan's War by BurningTea (G, 196k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Dad lwj, Sunshot Campaign, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Rumours, CQL Verse, Mental Health Issues, Sick LWJ)

~*~

9. Hello! ITMF a fic where WWX is in Ghost City after his death, not necessarily a ghost king or anything though

Not Only Gods Are Listening by a_dancer (Not Rated, 69k, WangXian, HuaLian, Post-Canon TGCFm MDZS Fix-it, Post-First Siege of the Burial Mounds, YLLZ WWX, Crossover)

let this soul be your whisper by merthurlin (T, 28k, HuaLian, WangXian, Post-Canon TGCF, Post-First Siege of the Burial Mounds MDZS, Canonical Character Death, Canon Divergence, Found Family, kid fic but watch out, ghost city's express family therapy)

Raise It Up, Roll the Dice by GhostySword (T, 5k, Canon Divergence, Crossover, Fairy Tale Elements, Deal with a Devil, Grief/Mourning, Canon-Typical Gore, Excessive PDA, lots of feels, Ghost City’s Spirited Away Vibes) Bonus! - which features Wei Ying living in Ghost City after his supposed death.

~*~

10. Hi, I'm having difficulty finding a fic where Wei Wuxian isn't portrayed as just a bundle of insecurities and self-worth issues. I would love something similar to the Wei Wuxian from The Shade of Old Trees, he's super strong, a genius, confident, and charming.I prefer canon setting, but at this point I will read anything,The longer the better! Thank you

Just go forward like you mean it by tawaen (M, 101k, WangXian, WWX & WN &WQ, WWX & JYL, NHS & WWX, Canon Divergence, WWx does not attend the Wen indoctrination, WWX saves Lotus Pier, Inventor WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, Sect Leader JYL, JC Has No Golden Core, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, Not JC Friendly, but he gets a happier ending than canon so don’t look here for bashing) might appreciate Tawaen's fics! - is a good one. I also recommend browsing the "BAMF Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian" tag - there are a lot of gems in there!

🧡 Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 283k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious)

We Meet at the Thousandth Step by Admiranda, Rynne (T, 316k, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, CSSR & WCZ Live, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Different First Meeting, Night Hunts, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Plot, Romance, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to married, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Everyone Lives, Developing Relationship, Minor Violence, Case Fic, Mystery, Flirting, WWX’s Canon-Typical Flower Flirting, Arson, There Was Only One Bed, Getting Together, First Kiss, Meeting the Parents, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, WWX Is a Good Big Brother, New Relationship Bliss, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Blood and Injury, Yiling siblings, Married WangXian, Honeymoon, Wangxian’s Baby Fever)

A Life Without Regrets by naqaashi (M, 163k, WangXian, JFM & WWX, JC & WWX, WRH & WWX, LXC & LWJ, LQR & LWJ, LWJ & NHS, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Crack Treated Seriously, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Murder Husbands, PTSD, BAMF WWX, Cultivation Sect Politics, Genius WWX, Cultivation Theory, Sentient Burial Mounds, Dysfunctional Family, Grief/Mourning, Angry WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, BAMF LWJ, Angry LWJ, One-Braincell WangXian, Idiots in Love, Requited Love, Requited Unrequited Love, Soft WangXian, Married WangXian, Soulmates, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Immortal WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, Not JC Friendly, Not Yunmeng Jiang friendly, not gusu lan friendly, Immortal LWJ)

Sunset, Sunrise by Ariana Deralte (ArianaDeralte) (T, 59k, WWX & WRH, WangXian, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, Crack, Temporary Character Death, sorry I killed a-Yuan for a few paragraphs before the time travel, WWX is a Wen, Genius WWX, WRH gets to rewatch the series as a treat, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, in this house we acknowledge that all the sects have flaws, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, WWX Has ADHD, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Autistic LWJ, Loss of Limbs)

transmuter by WithLoweredVoices (Not rated, 113k, wangxian, Modern with Magic, Magical Realism, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Bitter Plants Bearing Sweet Fruit by Kryal (M, 83k, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, canon-typical horror elements, Worldbuilding, Desert, Misuse of Historic Setting, Original Character Death(s), Case Fic, aftermath of canon, ridiculously long author notes, Established Relationship, Nothing Explicit But Shameless Innuendo)

~*~

11. Hi! Ty for all the awesome recs (　-∀-)

I'm itmf a) any wwx pregnant that lead to him being kicked out by the jiangs, or B) jyl critical fics

11A)

All The Years Lost by UseMyMuse (T, 26k, WangXian, Teen Pregnancy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Single Parent AU, Forced misunderstandings, Forced miscommunication, Mpreg)

The Winner Takes It All by YilingSani (M, 46k, WangXian, Modern AU, Single Parent WWX, Old Friends, One Night Stands, No Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Forgiveness, Second Chances, Inspired by Mamma Mia! (Movies) Teen Pregnancy, Mpreg, mention of miscarriage, Birth Trauma, amniotic fluid embolism)

11B)

A Matter of Choice by mrcformoso (T, 17k, WangXian, Dark LWJ, POV WWX, Flashbacks, references to grooming, References to Manipulation, References to Underage Sex, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Depression, Panic Attacks, Dissociation Self-Esteem Issues, Abusive Jiang Family, JYL critical, Jiang Family Bashing, WWX Needs a Hug, Good Uncle LQR, Hurt WWX, References to Torture, References to Starvation, references to cannibalism, Please read all warnings in author's notes, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cultivation Sect Politics, Genius WWX)

My heart knows (you’re the missing piece) by makexianxianhappytoday (T, 73k, WIP, WangXian, Jiang Family Bashing, Canon Divergence, Rogue cultivator!wwx, JYL Bashing, WWX leaves Jiang sect, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, JC Bashing, Protective! LWJ, Butterfly Effect, No Golden Core Transfer, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, unless they deserved it, NHS is friends with WWX, Mastermind! NHS, JZX is WWX's friend, Good brother! LXC, LY is ALIVE, BAMF! WWX, a lil OOC ngl)

~*~

12. Heyyy ! Thank your for your wonderful work ! For the next itmf I would love to have your favorite nie huisang / jiang cheng centered fics (preferably looong fics please) ! I am very open to canon but prefer modern au, thank you @sebyyw

Adventures in Roommates by eleloh (E, 37k, ChengSang, College/University, Roommates, First Time, Misunderstandings, Sexual Experimentation, Jealousy, Pining for someone actively having sex with you, sexual awakening, Light body issues/scars, Crying, idiots to lovers, Brief NHS/OMCs, Casual Promiscuity)

stop being cute by skyestiel (T, 10k, ChengSang, SongXiao, QingLi, 3Zun, WangXian, College/University, Valentine's Day, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Social Media, Kissing, Candy Hearts, First Dates, Mutual Pining, Awkward Flirting, they're in love, some canon elements, could be read as a standalone piece, or at least i hope, mainly sangcheng but other ships are mentioned)

What's Wrong with Secretary Nie? by chai_sang (mariexa) (T, 11k, ChengSang, implied WangXian, Modern AU, ceo JC, Secretary NHS, Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, POV Outsider, Fluff, Shenanigans, HR approved flirting, No Drama, Well adjusted Jiangs)

break my soul in two by shoelaces (T, 57k, ChengSang, WangXian, Modern AU, Amnesia, Car Accidents, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, Trauma, Recovery)

our footsteps sing a reckless serenade by ThirtySixSaveFiles (E, 45k, ChengSang, background WangXian, background XuanLi, background 3zun, Modern with Magic, Urban Fantasy, Everybody Lives, (Except JGS), Arranged Marriage, pining for the person you’re sleeping with, Politics, Donghua Hairstyles, Emotionally Significant Braids, so much hand holding, Minor peril)

this boy, half-destroyed by queen_gee (T, 64k, ChengSang, Post-Canon, Canonical Character Death, Slow Burn, Character Study, Love, Tragedy, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Loss, War, falling in love despite it all, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, tw for suicidal thoughts and suicidal ideation)

🔒Confluence by captain_apostrophe (M, 122k, ChengSang, Modern with Magic, Soulmates, Reincarnation, Canon, Whump, Heavy Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, but they're gonna have to earn it, Canon-Typical Violence, Mental Health Issues, Suicide Attempt, Drinking, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drunk Driving, Self-Harm, A tiny bit of smut, Minor Poly Quartet, Identity Porn, weaponised levels of sad, including NMJ being really mean to NHS, don't read this if you aren't prepared to cry, Suicide)

not until the bright moon shines by shoelaces (T, 84k, WIP, ChengSang, Modern Cultivation, Reincarnation, national parks, Inspired by Firewatch (Video Game), Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, they're both real sad in this one) and if the requestor enjoys AUs I'd like to generally recommend the author roseclaw as being a prolific source of quality longfics in many genres for SangCheng

The Threads of Fate by WaitForTheSnitch (E, 133k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Good Uncle LQR, Protective LWJ, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Pining LWJ, WWX in WWX's Body, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Oblivious WWX, Siblings JC & WWX, Supportive JYL, Protective NHS, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Comic Book Science) It's not tagged as such (yet), but NHS and JC work together and time travel and develop deeper relationship too😉 (it might even become romantic soon). They are also focus of the story and it's enjoyable to read.

~*~

13. Hello!! I’ve been reading a lot of danmei novels and got in the mood for some wangxian fics with Cnovel settings, like interstellar w/ mecha, entertainment circle or even zombies with superpowers, I’m really not picky… (thank you for all the hard work, I’ve been finding fics to read with your lists for quite sometime now!!) @pinsluke

~*~

14. hi!!! i’m itmf a fic that has jc defending wwx’s honor after witnessing lwj hurt him in some way, basically like how he and wwx gave jzx a hard time for hurting jyl before. it can be like canon teenji rudeness or just miscommunication like the scene near the end of “put your heart where your mouth is” by protos_metazu_ison @nalalie

~*~

15. itmf wangxian age gap fics w A) older!lwj and younger!wwx

B) or teacher!wwx (specifically like a cultivation instructor) and disciple!lwj. i like the idea of lwj being overwhelmed by wwx’s unconventional teaching methods, very unlike the structured lessons he’s used to from the lans, if a fic similar to that exists

no modern aus for either pls!

15A)

Like stones on an unseen board by Vir_Abelasan (Not rated, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dark LWJ, Older LWJ, Teacher LWJ, dark twin jades, Age Difference, Manipulation, Protective LWJ, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Corporal Punishment, Relatively canon-typical abusive Jiangs, WWX Get a Happy Ending, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Not Jiang Clan Friendly)

To the Solitary Me, Who Loved You by gremlinweiying (T, 207k, WangXian, WIP, Underage Sex, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Canon Divergence, Older LWJ, Younger WWX, Age Difference, Genius WWX, Soft WangXian, Protective LWJ, Fix-It of Sorts, Dark LWJ, Size Difference, Jiang Family Bashing, But Not Much)

Smoke signals. by springssea (E, 12k, WangXian, CSSR & WCZ Live, Time Travel Fix-It, WWX in WWX's Body, WangXian in Love, Post-Sunshot Campaign, WWX Has Feelings, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Older LWJ, Younger WWX, Warning: XY, BAMF WQ, BAMF LWJ, Protective LWJ, Jiang Family Bashing, Angst with a Happy Ending, Inventor WWX)

I Am Happy I Met You by Bhargavee00 (Not Rated, 34k, LWJ & WWX, WIP, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Sect Leader LWJ, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Dragon LWJ, Madam Lan Lives, QHJ Lives, Dark LWJ, Protective LWJ, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, Protective LXC, Protective LQR, Good Uncle LQR, WangXian Are Soulmates, WWX Goes to Gusu, Gusu Lan Sect, Yunmeng Jiang Sect Bashing, Jiang Family Bashing, LWJ Is So Whipped, Older LWJ, Good Older Sibling LXC, Sunshot Campaign, No Golden Core Transfer, WWX is a Lan, WWX is So Whipped)

~*~

16. Hello!!! Do you have any fics where Jiang Yanli and/or Jin Zixuan survive, but Wei Wuxian is still killed? Like he still does the whole dying and coming back to life thing but with one of them still alive (or both!).

Thank you!!! I really appreciate all the searching you guys do, I love going through all the lists. :)

picking up the pieces by KouriArashi (M, 111k, JYL & LWJ, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Alternate Canon, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Regret, Family, Kid Fic, Families of Choice, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Politics, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, canon typical political bullshit, Eventual Happy Ending)

To Be Named by Suibian_613 (T, 39k, WangXian, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Out of Character, WQ is out of character, Everyone is probably ooc, canonical violence, Canonical Character Death, JYL lives, Somewhat Sentient Burial Mounds, WN and JC Rivalry, Sibling Rivalry)

finding you always, all ways by BlueFrogs (T, 31k, WangXian, ChengQing, Reincarnation, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Romance, Memory Loss, technically there is character death, but he comes back lol, Age Difference, due to reincarnation) which has We Ying reincarnated (born to new parents and without his memories but gets connected to the Jiangs and cultivation world again as he grows up).

🧡 like speaking to my heart by SnowshadowAO3 (T, 613k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Daemons, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death)

~*~

17. this is going to be very niche but itmf a fic where wei ying still has someone he doesn’t talk to anymore as his emergency contact and ends up in the hospital. could be lan zhan, the jiangs, anyone. would also take the othwr way around (with wy being the contact) but would really rather some wwx whump. thanks !

Hanging by a Thread by Greywake (T, 5k, WangXian, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, mentions of domestic abuse, First Meetings, re-meet-cute, Rescue, Family Reunions, First Date, First Kiss, Car Accident, Modern AU, Firefighter LWJ, Teacher WWX)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[re-whump]

Pest Treatment (1?)

no editing we die like mice but oops some of those mice were also people

an exterminator meets a borrower or two; a borrower has a very rough evening

cw: whump, tiny whumpee, carewhumper, animal death (mice), death/dead body (look, one of the main characters is an exterminator), some very callous handling of the dead, poisoning, kidnapping/capture, you know normal meetcute stuff

It was the last visit at the end of a long day, and Rich had volunteered himself to speak with their client, leaving Frankie to get down on her aching knees to check the traps they’d left out earlier this week. She shouldn’t complain. The client was a old creep and she was way too young to be bitching about her joints.

So far, she’d found three dead mice so far, which was more than she’d been expecting, really. For all the man’s complaints of nighttime noise and ruined food, she and Rich had hardly seen any actual signs of rodent activity, never mind a full-blown infestation. She slipped into the garage, where they’d seen most of the pellets.

She didn’t expect to find…this…waiting in one of the traps. Frankie didn’t know what it was or how it got there or exactly how guilty she needed to feel about it. She didn’t want to touch it. She didn’t want to find out that it was real. There plenty of blood on her hands, that was the nature of pest control, but it was animal blood, not…

It looked like a man.

She hollered for Rich. He’d been working in the field for much longer than she had, long enough to have encountered just about anything infesting these parts. If nothing else, he could confirm she wasn’t hallucinating. He excused himself from his chat with the homeowner and joined her in the garage.

“Need something, Francesca?”

She was too disturbed to bother to scowl at the long form of her name.

“Am I…? What am I looking at here?” Frankie asked, gesturing to the dead thing.

A closer examination just made her stomach turn. The thing in the trap was either some kind of tiny human or a sick doll set up as a prank. Its face, barely the size of her fingertip, was a snapshot of shock and agony, gone still with death. The snap-trap’s bar had crashed down over the tiny man’s middle and shattered his spine. Her stomach lurched and she couldn’t look away.

It was no dead mouse, but a murder scene and Rich barely flinched. The corner of his lip twitched down and he shook his head.

“Ah, hell. I’ve never seen one dumb enough to walk into a trap. Poor thing must’ve been desperate,” Rich said regretfully.

“You’ve seen this before? What is it? Was he…?” her voice struggled to make it up her throat.

“A person? Maybe. Or some kinda fairy, I think, they’re not much for talking. It’s usually best to just let them be, I’ve found. They leave on their own once we start setting out poison,” Rich said.

He told her to go take a quick break, maybe wash up a bit. The job was almost done anyway, it wouldn’t be so bad to finish it alone. She hesitated with the knee-jerk sense that she had to prove herself capable. There was little Frankie hated more than being dismissed as weak and she hadn’t yet been at this job long enough to build up a solid reputation to defend herself with.

But she could feel the blood on her hands even through her gloves and that felt like a sign of bad mental health to come if she tried to ignore this guilt. She went inside to hide out in the bathroom for a moment to clean her hands and clear her head.

What did Rich mean, that it had maybe been a person? It sure looked like one. They went out of their way to keep poisons inaccessible to non-target species, but they weren’t worried about these maybe-people? Maybe the maybe was a trick meant to knock the sin down from murder, but that thought was even more upsetting. She could throw up.

She wondered if there were others. There had to be, right, if Rich had seen them before? Should they be putting out signs or…how close to human were they? How many had they killed? Had she killed?

She took off her gloves and washed her sweating hands. The mental image of that face couldn’t be cleaned away. She swallowed hard. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d set out mouse traps, per her job, and somehow that thing—the man—had crawled into reality and stumbled into one. She didn’t have any reason to feel guilty. She scrubbed harder, digging at her skin until she had almost convinced herself to let it go.

She took a deep breath to go back to work when she heard a soft thud, like the soap slipping off its tray and into the sink basin. Frankie turned around to fix it and nearly jumped out of her skin. There was another one there, one of the maybe-people mouse-folk, lying flat on her stomach in the sink. She was a bit larger than the other, fat as a rat, but she was also alive. She pushed herself up to her knees with shaking arms, and clutched her gut in misery. It took her a moment to notice Frankie looking down at her, but when she did, she shuddered.

“H-help,” she gasped. Frankie swore she heard the word within the creature’s labored breathes.

This one, Frankie decided, this one she could save.

-

Starling sat beside her husband’s body and wished she felt more heartbroken. Her hands shook as she felt for signs of life and again found none. She ought to grieve, to cry, but she hardly had the space for it. She was disgusted. Furious. Sick. Exhausted.

He’d tried to kill them all, and, damn it all, she had helped. She had baked his poison into something more palatable and served it up to the whole brood.

“Did you know?” she whispered. Her throat burned. He had lived outside before they met each other. He should’ve known what rat bait looked like.

Some kinda protein bar, he had said. Found it outside. Guess someone dropped it while they were working, lucky for us.

And Starling had believed him. As if borrowers ever got lucky. There was something odd about the block, the proportions maybe, the color, but the humans dyed their food all sorts of bright colors and this had had nuts in it and they hadn’t found any real food in days and she was scraping crumbs of crumbs out of the pantry and something had to be better than nothing.

They should have left when the mice came inside, when the old man started locking down the kitchen. They should have left when the exterminators came and laid siege to the property. But Starling’s family, self included, was proud and long-established in the old home.

She gave her husband’s frozen hand a final squeeze and stumbled to her feet. Her head swam as she moved. Her body begged her to lay back down. Across the room, her mother wasn’t moving. Her sister moaned about the pain, and their cousin collapsed when he tried to stand. He couldn’t speak when she tried to help him and she fled.

She was a terrible person for it, but she couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t face this. She was too scared to see who was gone and who was on their way out and afraid to hope there was anyone else left.

She’d eaten last, which meant she’d eaten the least, so as terrible as she felt, it was safe to assume everyone else had it worse. Maybe if she just, if she could throw up, she might…maybe she could find something to fix this.

Vomiting didn’t help, at least not enough. She was still so weak she was shaking and now her mouth tasted of bile. She kept going, further and further from her home within the walls. Her vision blurred with dizziness and tears.

She fumbled her way down towards a bathroom in search of soap and clean water to get this taste out of her mouth, at least. But getting there had been exhausting and her coordination was getting worse and worse. She grabbed scraped off a bit of soap then tripped into the hard basin below.

She pushed herself up and froze as a shadow swallowed up the light. As a living mountain, a colossus, a human stared down at her. The most notorious predator in the world. It smelled like sanitizer and bug spray.

Starling was so damn sick, she hadn’t even noticed the human was in here until it was staring down at her. Hadn’t thought twice about the wet soap, about the light. Was too dizzy to think much about the noise, since everything was already too loud. She tried unsuccessfully to get up and run. All she could do was tremble and pray for rescue.

“H-help,” she gasped.

But of course no one could help her. She had run away from her responsibility to her family and she would face her consequences alone

[chiasaaa]

– mean it || part iii

itoshi sae x f! reader

summary: loving someone as cruel as itoshi sae has to be the worst thing that ever happened to a hopeless romantic like you. years of pining over your childhood crush finally comes to an end, or does it?

warning: english is not my first language. apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors.

– you couldn't deny that there was a part of you that knew it will have to turn out like this. maybe you were ahead of your time then; a little naive to follow through it, but it had to be done. there's no other way for you to be happy if you don't move on.

gone are the days where you have dinner with sae. naturally, that came with the strolls, the sleepovers, the kisses, and all that falls on your little play pretend. funny how one conversation can easily penetrate through the bubble you carefully created with him, leading it to pop and leave nothing but a string of regrets.

however, you're not one to dwell on such. you wouldn't be where you are now if you were. becoming the bast always required sacrifices and regrets, and you believed the same thing can be said in your philosophy of life. you need to lose something to gain something, is what you have always believed in.

weeks have passed since the silent breakup (if you can even call it a breakup), and you were back on track to prepare for the champions league. the youth team has you, as expected, to be their starting striker and you're not about to miss an opportunity of a lifetime for a silly boy. you came to spain to conquer the world of football, not to hook yourself on a date.

you grit and determination must have been too obvious because your team certainly noticed the sudden change in your demeanor. from your bad habits down to the littlest bit in your training regimen–nothing was left uncorrected by you. your coach was certainly happy that you're willingly looking for your own flaws to change them in earnest, but even he began to worry for your sake.

your team captain had just finished freshening up when she spotted you still working on your shots at the field, heaving through your exhaustion like an overworked robot about to bust itself to pieces. this is getting a little out of hand, and she had a funny feeling it had something to do with their auburn-haired midfielder from the male's youth team. she grunts, muttering how she knew that boy's only bad news for you. after hearing the whole shenanigan about how he was a childhood friend of yours and you've only reunited now after eight years, she knew that itoshi sae was not just a friend to you. certainly, you were not just a friend to him either.

from the year she's been your captain, she came to know how you operate. for the most part, you keep the logical side of you in control of your body and mind. she rarely sees you slipping from your cool and calm exterior. after all, she always found your composure admirable as it works extremely well under pressure. she has you to thank for the times she's about to mentally crumble during a tight game.

it's about time she does you a favor too, and so she invited you out for dinner to pull you out of extended training. she watched you gobble up the food she ordered for both of you, insisting that you will need all the energy you can get for tomorrow's training. of course, it wasn't mere concern that had her going through such lengths. she needed to talk to you about your behavior.

"did itoshi do anything to you?" was her idea of a conversation starter, and with the way you reacted, it seemed like she was right on the money. you stilled from forking down a piece of dumpling, gulping subtly as you tried to navigate through the topic.

"what made you say that?"

"don't pretend like you haven't been sneaking around with him, superstar." she snickered, finding it quite amusing that your best solution to the situation is to feign ignorance. "you like him, don't you?"

and that is how she opened the pandora's box. that night, she found out about your history with said midfielder, how you reunited, and how you turned out the way you are now. to you, your captain had always felt like a big sister who keeps you in check in the most caring way possible. she wasn't there with you that night to simply know the gossip or to have you spill the beans. no, it was more than that. she wanted to help you and see how you're going. she wanted to know how she could help, and fortunately for her, all you needed was a listening ear.

you certainly felt a little better after that dinner, and your captain became more attentive with you since then. she kept you from extending your daily training. if she couldn't stop you, she'll join you until your legs give up. in morning workouts, she never leaves your side and wake up earlier than she usually does to keep your mind from straying too far. the rest of the girls also picked up on your behavior, and so they collectively decided to not have team lunches with the male's division. truth be told, most of them find the boys a little too conniving and condescending. it was great for the team to have their own bonding over lunch. it certainly allowed you to keep your mind off of things and get to know your team a little better since you moved to spain.

that said, walks home are included in the changes that happened over the past weeks. three of the girls you've grown closer to would accompany you on your walk home, inviting you around places to try from time to time when none of you are too exhausted.

with all these things happening, you couldn't help but feel a little happy that the confrontation with sae happened. it wouldn't have granted you the opportunity to have a healthier social life if it didn't.

it also brought new friendships. not everyone in the male's team are as bad as they all thought. though, you seem to have a pretty eccentric type in friends when you chose this one.

obnoxious, narcissistic, and egotistical as hell. those three words perfectly encapsulate the being that is michael kaiser. never did you ever think you'd be friends with him after he joined re al as a centre forward. he's the complete opposite of a friend you're looking for, yet you paired off so well upon the first time you meet.

majority of it is because you're the only one who knows how to speak german in both teams, and that brought you drastically closer as you assisted kaiser when he was new around the facility. now, however, you would say that your friendship was built on stone. he would sometimes join the women's team for lunch simply because he too loves talking drama. he loves being the centre of attention most of the time, but hearing about other people and their own desperate attempts through life entertain him plenty.

of course, it was only a matter of time until he figured out the deal between you and his midfielder. ever since you've grown close, kaiser noticed how sae was a thousand times more stingy to him–how he would make extremely difficult passes in an attempt to frustrate kaiser. though it does work, kaiser finds it more as an opportunity than a negative thing.

he was complaining to you during lunch when it began to happen frequently, and everyone at the table immediately went silent upon the rise of the topic. it has been awhile since itoshi sae was brought up, and none of them were sure how you'd take it.

"he's always brooding, anyway. you must have done something to tick him off." was your only response, shrugging as if it was the simplest thing to understand in the world.

kaiser knew there was gold to dig, and he successfully did it directly from you when you were out with a couple of your friends shopping. you told him the same thing you told your captain, though the details were more vague this time. it made you realize that though the memory began fading through the creases, the heartache you felt back then remains the same.

worse, it hurts more now than ever.

do you still like him even after what he did?

there's no way, right?

"hmm," kaiser hummed, amused, "well, leave it to me. since you have been such a dear to your great emperor, i shall return a small favor."

you snorted. "dude, what the hell are you even talking about?"

you didn't think much of it. it was kaiser, after all. though he is a good friend, he can be quite the crazy person when he wants to be. you're just preparing yourself for anything embarrassing he might do to you through the week (though you pray he at least has a heart not to).

but no, it wasn't humiliation kaiser was going for. rather, he's about to fix whatever it is that needed fixing. during training, once again with the midfielder, he began asking about you.

"the recordings don't give justice to her plays, don't you think?" was his starter to pique sae's interest. "ever played as her midfield?"

"focus," was sae's response, sending another sick pass to the blonde.

"gotta admit, though. i wanted to get into re al 'cuz of her." kaiser snickered, executing a perfect bicycle kick to score. "i'm thinking of asking her out sometime soon. what do you think?"

sae stared at him for awhile from a set distance, attempting to understand what kaiser's scheme is. he then walked to the goalpost, brushing past the german's shoulder as he did. "do what you want."

of course, he didn't actually mean it. sae would rather die than let anyone else be yours. it was his place. he's meant to be yours. he is meant to shower you with all the good things in the world. certainly not kaiser. he doesn't even know the most basic thing to do when caring for someone else.

even if he did ask you out, you surely won't accept it, right?

and alas, he was slapped hard on the face when he saw an instagram update from your profile. it was a picture of you and kaiser holding your shopping bags after spending the entire night walking around the mall to spoil yourself. if the photo wasn't enough, the caption surely takes the cake.

'thanks to my bodyguard/ shopping bag holder for life!'

for life? kaiser? of all people?

sae never bolted out of his apartment so fast that night, rushing over to your place to finally put a stop to this nonsense. he knew he fucked up when he left you hanging, and he had been too scared to approach you first. you never bothered talking to him again after that damn night, so he figured he wasn't in the place to command the situation. he had no right to argue against you–for you to even spare him a glance.

you used to even when you weren't talking, but with kaiser in the picture, he's lucky enough to even catch your silhouette in the facility's hallway.

and so, we're here.

you stood frozen right at your doorstep, eyes glued to a heaving itoshi sae. he looked like he just ran a marathon, and that says something for someone whose career involves running for an entire ninety minutes every match.

your mind goes blank and dizzy at the same time. there was no telling he'd even be here. you haven't spoken in months–haven't spared a glance at each other for so long, yet there he was.

"don't do it."

he had always been the worst at starting conversations, but you might as well hand him a trophy for this one.

"what the hell are you tal–"

"don't go out with kaiser."

now that's odd. you were silent for a short while, connecting the dots in your head. so this is what kaiser meant that day. you couldn't tell if you're glad or angry that this moment came. you have always dreamt of this, after all, finding him standing at your door with the courage you wished he had all along.

"you're in no place to make such demands."

sae was definitely caught off-guard. this isn’t like you. you have always been so forgiving—so understanding.

well, it’s about time he realizes he ran you dry.

but he can't back away anymore. not again, or he will really lose you this time. he slowly takes a step forward, then another, and another until his feet led him right in front of you. his height towered over yours so easily, yet you stood tall against him.

for once. he actually felt so small around you.

"kaiser," he inhaled, "kaiser doesn't know you like i do. he doesn't know how to take care of you."

"and you do?" you snort. oddly enough, sae likes this side of your. he didn't expect you to have a snarky side, and it was because of his stupidity that he came to discover it now.

"i do," he carefully takes your hand in his, finally professing his feelings. "you were right. what i did wasn't right. i do a lot of things that tick you off, and i know that i am the biggest headache in your life. there's no way you would ever choose me."

then, his forehead leans down on yours. as if he knew his words are not enough, he tried to compensate with his actions without overstepping boundaries drawn.

"but god knows how much i'll regret it if i didn't fight for you–fight for what could be us instead." itoshi sae had completely crumbled right before you, and his voice gave him away. it's not everyday you hear at least a tad bit of emotion from him. he had always been logical, cursing anything that involved having to open up his feelings and being completely seen by another. yet, he's doing it all right in front of you.

“you terrify me,” he whispered, like it was a secret that he’s meant to keep forever. “you have complete control over me and you don’t even have any idea.”

his voice broke down with a slight crack. it nearly made you crumble right then and there. if you were the same lovesick fool you once were, that is.

still, it wasn't enough for you to hold back from your sharp thoughts. "i think you just want me because another man does, itoshi."

it stings how you use his surname than his first. he deserved that, and he took it completely with not a hint of annoyance.

"no," he answers confidently. "i have always always wanted to be with you—to be by your side and watch you take on the world. i want to be the first person you run to when you win a match. i want to be the man you dedicate a goal for like how i dedicate all of mine to you. i want to be the first to see you in the morning and the last before you sleep."

his other hand trails down your free arm, taking hold of your fingers with his own. "i want to be the one to listen to your endless stories and the one to calm you down when you're overwhelmed. i want to be the one who'll know firsthand how much your hard work has paid off when you win the champions league."

by now, even the facade you had put up lost against his sincerity. you knew that this is itoshi sae speaking from his heart, voluntarily opening himself up to you. professing his love for you after eight long years of taking it for granted. you have long forgiven him, but you didn't want to interrupt him when he's already pouring his heart out for you to hear.

you can wait. you can listen to him until he's done venting it all out.

"god knows how i would let the world burn if it meant having a second chance with you." he muttered, warm and soft. “i love you.”

you freeze.

what are you supposed to do now?

you’re torn between believing in the man you used to know and the man who left you hanging a few weeks ago. thinking about it makes you dizzy.

what did he mean he loves you? after dismissing your feelings and stomping on your heart like it’s trash? how dare he love someone he deemed unworthy of his honesty

"...do you mean it?"

"i do,"

he answered so quickly, as if he was scared you’d leave if he even missed a second to reply to you. you can feel how his hold tightened in the slightest way, the unknowing urge to keep your from slipping away from his reach overpowering him subconsciously.

who were you kidding?

it’s sae right in front of you. he’s an asshole, you have long known about that already.

"you're such a jerk."

"i know,"

"but you're my jerk."

he was taken aback, yet he didn't stop himself from smiling and pulling you in an embrace long overdue. "i am," he whispered, "and i'm forever yours. i’m sorry, amor. i’ll love you freely this time.”

you nod, finally letting the happy tears soak themselves against his black shirt. the day had finally come, and you were glad you held on for so long.

you pined over him for twelve years, but really, sae had always been the loser of this game you're playing since the beginning.

[cheeseatlantic]

SPA DAY

The soft, calming music played in the background as you leaned back into the plush chair, eyes closed, letting the serenity of the spa envelop you. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus filled the air, and the low hum of conversation from other guests blended with the soothing sounds. You let out a relaxed sigh, sinking deeper into the warmth of the plush robe they’d given you at the entrance.

The spa was a rare treat, and one you’d insisted on after weeks of stressful missions. Gaz had been surprisingly on board with it when you’d suggested it, his easygoing nature making him the perfect companion for a day of relaxation. Of course, you both needed it.

You opened your eyes to find him sitting across from you, a relaxed smile on his face. His eyes were half-closed in bliss as he rested, letting the calmness of the room work its magic. His usual serious demeanor had melted away for the day, replaced by an easygoing tranquility you rarely got to see.

“Never thought I’d see the day where Kyle Garrick of all people would be this relaxed,” you teased, tilting your head toward him, eyes gleaming with amusement.

He chuckled, his lips twitching upward. “It’s not so bad, you know. I’ve been runnin’ on empty lately, so this is a nice change.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You, running on empty? I find that hard to believe.”

Kyle shrugged, still smiling. “I mean, I don’t usually let it show. But I’ve been a little worn out, to be honest.” He leaned back further into the chair, letting the soothing pressure of the hot stones against his shoulders ease the tension that was so often visible in his posture. “But, with you here… it’s easier to forget all that for a bit.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Gaz wasn’t one for overly emotional gestures, but the tenderness in his tone was unmistakable. You felt your own smile soften as you reached out, touching his hand across the table.

“Glad you’re letting yourself unwind,” you said quietly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “You deserve it.”

Kyle’s hand tightened around yours for a moment before he looked at you with that familiar, but undeniably affectionate smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, honestly,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, but you didn’t pull your hand away. Instead, you leaned a little closer, looking at him with soft eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, Kyle.”

He chuckled again, this time with a hint of relief. “Good, ‘cause I don’t think I could take a spa day without you by my side.”

A playful smirk tugged at your lips. “You would’ve survived, but you wouldn’t have enjoyed it as much.”

“True,” he admitted, turning his attention back to the peaceful surroundings. The two of you sat there for a while, soaking in the quiet, just enjoying each other’s company in this rare moment of stillness.

After a while, the attendant returned, offering the two of you a selection of massages or additional treatments. Gaz looked at you with a mischievous grin.

“So,” he began, his voice low and teasing. “How about a couples’ massage? I’m not too proud to admit that I’m all for it today.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a laugh. “What? Gaz, you’re actually going to admit you enjoy a good pampering?” you teased.

He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. “I’m just saying… I’m with you, and if you want a little extra relaxation, I’m happy to make it happen.”

You smirked. “Alright, let’s do it. But if you start snoring halfway through, I’ll drag you out by your ears.”

He grinned widely, leaning back into his chair. “Deal. I trust you to wake me up if I do.”

The day passed with a relaxed ease, the two of you letting go of the usual tension that followed your lives. You joked and teased each other, shared quiet moments, and simply let yourself enjoy the peace for a change.

Later, after the massage, as you both sipped on cucumber water, Gaz’s arm slid around your shoulders as you sat side by side.

“Best decision we’ve made in a while, eh?” he murmured, resting his chin on the top of your head.

You smiled, content in the silence. “Definitely. We should do this more often.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice low and warm. “Anything for you, love. You deserve it.”

And as the two of you sat there, wrapped in each other’s presence, the noise of the world seemed a distant memory, replaced by the quiet comfort of the moment.

phbyeha

[chosaraki]

A refuge away from the hustle and bustle of life in the underworld.

—————————————————————————

Gun Park was sitting on a dark leather sofa, his shoulders wide and tense, but with a relaxed posture. His gaze, fixed and distant, went through the trainings and reports of his last mission. The scars on his face were visible, and the sunglasses he wore to hide his intense gaze were resting next to him, as if he were in a moment of rest.

His wife entered the room, bringing a tray with tea and some homemade cookies. The smell of lavender and chamomile seemed to fill the environment, contrasting with the cold and austere atmosphere of the place. Her eyes, full of kindness, met Gun's, and she smiled softly, as she always did, with a look that conveyed calm and understanding.

"You worked a lot today, didn't you?" She said in a soft voice, placing the tray on the table next to him. "Maybe this tea will help a little. I prepared it with love, as you like."

Gun didn't answer immediately, but watched his wife. His countenance was as always: serene and optimistic, a rare quality that he could not help but notice. She never showed fear, not even in the face of her coldness or emotional absences. He took a cup, looking at it with a slight sigh.

"You always dedicate yourself so much... You don't need all this to please me," he said, his deep voice, but with a hint of softness, something rare coming from him. He took a sip of the tea, feeling the comforting taste.

She sat next to him, her eyes transmitting a deep calm. "It's not about pleasing, Gun. I do this because I like to see you well. You carry many battles within yourself, and I just want you to find peace, even if it's for a moment."

Silence hovered between them, but it was not uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that meant understanding, a communication that went beyond words. Gun looked at her once more, feeling a strange feeling of tranquility. Her nature, pure and true, always challenged him to think, even if he did not express it often.

She, with her optimistic way, who believed that there was always light even in the darkest situations, did not seem to be intimidated by her darkest side. On the contrary, she always said that her mission was to help him find a path where his strength was more than just violence. And although Gun never said it out loud, he knew she had touched something inside him.

"I know," he said, the lowest voice, but with a touch of sincerity that he rarely showed. "I'm not good with words, but... you make me want to be better. Even if I don't know how."

She smiled again, taking his hand gently. "It doesn't have to be perfect, Gun. It just needs to be you."

—————————————————————————

This scenario shows her softness and patience, and how she, even with her kindness, has a way to connect with Gun on a deep level, offering her support without asking for anything in return. The contrast between them is clear: Gun's ruthless and calculating nature, against his wife's tranquility and dedication. However, this difference is not a barrier, but a form of balance that can strengthen your relationship.

—————————————————————————

[richarlotte]

What do you think goes into the look on your campus?

So much goes into it. There’s medical-grade skincare, high-quality work, lasers, perfect hair, good makeup, clothes that fit and flatter, tweaks made with personal taste in mind, quality perfume, good bodies, a lot of maintenance, and appointment after appointment to get things right. So many girls here come from families and cultures where beauty and education are taken seriously, so no expense is spared, and the girls take themselves and the way they present themselves seriously. 

If you look at some of the girls in the School of Cinematic Arts, the Kaufman School of Dance, or the Thornton School of Music who have spent their entire lives auditioning and working on the screen, you’ll see how intense they are about being perceived well by the public and how well they take care of themselves. If you are used to being seen by large audiences and have been told that there is an image you have to uphold, you’ll find that becoming disciplined and avoiding distractions becomes second nature. 

I also think that being raised by a public-facing family, dating a public figure, or wanting to enter a high-pressure world/a higher society is a job in itself. There’s a lot that goes into it, and taking the time to be visually attractive is one small part of it. Being charming, well-dressed, well-mannered, educated, and eloquent are just as important, and being poised and knowing how to present yourself are foundational skills. You can fake what it takes when it comes to looks, but not everyone can pull off faking pedigree. What I’m saying is that it’s hard and that not everyone has what it takes to make it in the fast lane.