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spencerrreiddd · 13 hours

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Three, Two, One.

Summary: You and Spencer have worked in the BAU together for years, since the beginning but now, he's your boss and something quite big is happening in your life & soon to be Spencer's life after needing each others help to unwind.

Pairing: UnitChief!Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

WC: 3.3k

Warnings: Pregnancy, Angst, Cheating??

A/N: LOW & BEHOLD- here lays my first beauty. - my apologies is this is complete shit, I have not written in a while & I may have to get my special touch back. - anyways, i hope you guys like it ! 🔪🤍

three, two, one-

pregnant.

You were pregnant. You were pregnant with your bosses baby.

Spencer has not always been your boss, you actually started working for the BAU a month before he had even started working there.

He took over Emily's position once she moved up to FBI Director a few months back, at that congratulations party is when something sparked between you and Spencer- just, neither of you acted on it

You remember exactly how and when it happened too, it was the party after his promotion to Unit Chief. Goddamn promotion parties. You didn’t think you drank that much, until you woke up naked beside your new boss.

The temptation to pack a bag and hop on a flight across the world sounded so appetizing right now in your mind, too bad that it isn't realistic & you were going to have to face the facts and that was including, him.

There was never any “no speaking of this” - only us meeting up at my apartment, his apartment, our hotel rooms when we were on a case and needed to ‘unwind’ - the last time you and Spence had even slept together was 2-3 weeks ago anyway, of course when y'all needed to unwind after a case. Who could've guessed that one?

You were snatched from your thoughts when you heard your phone ringing from your bedroom- running for it, you were hoping that it wasn't Spencer.

‘Penelope Garcia 🖥️💖🍩’ 'thank the heavens' you silently think to yourself

“What’s up, Penny”

“Spencer is busy, he put me on duty to call you to find out if you plan to show your face at work today, ya know- since it is a work day and no show, no calls are frowned upon here" Your neck snaps to look at your alarm clock.

"Also, he wants to see you in his office once you get here"

7:32 A.M - have I seriously been staring at a positive pregnancy test for an entire hour?

“Fuck. See you soon. I'm leaving right now"

The short drive to work felt longer than it should have, probably because you took back roads to avoid having to see him again so soon. If you were already running late, what is a few extra minutes?

So many thoughts flying through your mind. How are you going to tell him? Oh hey, by the way, ya knocked me up so what’s the plan bud?!

“I'm doomed" You mutter to yourself getting out of your vehicle to go face reality, to go face the man of your now growing child. This has to be a nightmare.

Getting off of the elevator, the first person you saw was Alvez- boy, you were thankful that it wasn't Spencer, even though you'd be seeing him in just a few minutes.

"Looks like you saw a ghost"

"Yeah, Luke, something like that"

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not right now, I just want to forget about it- I need to see Pen" yeah, Y/N, like you'll actually be able to forget about it.

You make a beeline directly for Penelope's office, you have to tell someone about this before you actually lose your mind.

"Pen, I have news and it has to stay between you and I only"

"Your secret is safe with me, my love"

"I'm pregnant.. with Spencer's baby" you hesitated even saying the last part but wow, that felt good to get off of your chest, too bad it won't feel this easy with Spencer. Just thinking of having to tell him has you feeling like someone is choking you out.

"Oh."

"Oh? Pen, I am in a state of panic, a state of shock and you say 'Oh'- I don't know what to even begin to do here or how to even tell Reid that I am carrying his.. spawn"

"Spencer has a girlfriend or did, as far as I kn- okay, when did you find out” She cuts herself after seeing the look of horror on your face after hearing the beginning of her sentence, understandably so!

You were NOT the type of person to sleep with a taken man.

You were confident that you were about to face plant the ground right here and now in Penelope’s office. Did Spencer have a girlfriend or not? And were you about to go physically fight him for doing this to her, if so? You would be considering yourself jobless at that point.

“I found out this morning, literal minutes before you called me to get my ass here” you were in a pure state of panic and you had many good reasons as to why.

“How long has he had a girlfriend, Pen?” you continued- you were sure your skin was blistering with how hot it was at this point. Was it hot out of anger or the panic attack that was charging at you? Who knows anymore because you didn’t care enough in this single second to sit and determine that.

"I don't know, he just mentioned a date a few weeks ago then didn't mention anything again but I know he's still in communication with her and by the contact name in his phone, I don't think they are just friends" Penelope lets you in on all of this, nervously- like she isn't supposed to be saying anything at all.

"Thanks, Pen" You murmur to her her as you leave, you have to leave her office, the longer you are in there, the more it feels like the walls are literally closing in on you.

Walking into the hallway, you don't know which direction to go- You should probably go see Spencer and give him some bullshit excuse as to why you were late.

It was barely 8 A.M, maybe it was past 8 A.M now- your mind is going too fast to try and keep up with time. Regardless, it's too early in the morning to drop a pregnancy announcement on someone.

Finally, you muster up the courage to walk into the bullpen to go on the hunt for Spencer, as much as your mind and body are telling you to just bolt to your car and never look back.

"Tara, do you know where Spencer is?" You ask quietly, so that you don't disturb the others around you

"No, I saw him walk out of his office a few minutes ago but I haven't seen him go back in. If you find him before me, let me know because I need to go over some things with him"

"I'll go knock and see if he's back, thanks Tara"

You can visibly see his blinds are closed but majority of the time they are closed anyways, so that doesn't even matter to you. Walking up the flight of stairs to get to his office is exhausting, it feels like your legs weigh 1000 pounds each.

Standing in front of his office, you hear talking inside- You can very clearly hear a females voice inside talking to him but you honestly couldn't tell if she was over the phone or actually in his office by how muffled it is, it's safe to assume that it is a phone call.

"No going back now since you're already here" You mumble to yourself

Knock, knock, knock

"Come in" You hear a muffled Spencer behind the door

As your opening the door, you quickly hear him state to the woman on the phone 'I have to go, I'll see you tonight' - God, as if you haven't already wanted to run away all morning, it keeps getting worse.

"Pen said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, please sit" He says, gesturing to the chair

"Are you okay, Y/N? - You were late this morning, we've worked together for many years now and you've never once ran late, it's not like you not to communicate" You can see on his face that he cares, he didn't bring you in here to give you a lecture over something small, especially since this is your first time ever running late.

"Y-yes, I just woke up late and then getting to my car, I realized I had a flat, so I had to ask my neighbor to use his pump to fill it" You lied straight through your pearly white teeth and you were confident that he knew it to, just by the look he was giving you

He stares at you for a moment, trying to read you for anything. You were thankful for the fact that sometimes you were an impossible person to read

"Please, just communicate next time- It's not a big deal you were late, we just didn't know what was going on until I had Garcia get a hold of you"

"I will, you have my word- Am I good to go now?" You ask while standing up, yes, the talk went better than expected but you still wanted out of this office as fast as possible.

"Yes, thank you for coming to talk to me. Oh, also before I forget to mention it, at some point today whenever we both have free time, I would like to have a conversation. If it's just at the end of the day that's fine. It just needs to happen"

All you can bring yourself to do is nod your head and walk out of the room, based on the ass end of the phone call you walked in on- You have a pretty good hunch what he will be saying to you, especially after what Garcia also let you in on

It makes your heart ache- knowing that he could have a girlfriend, knowing this thing that the two of you had will be coming to an end, by no means were you and Spencer in a committed relationship but you would be lying to yourself, if you said you hadn't gained feelings for him and actually wanted more than just a 'fuck buddy' outcome

"So, is he up in the office? I really need to see him" Tara asks while already walking up there and away from you before you can even give her an answer.

You know for a fact that you are not going to be able to focus on work at all today even if you try your hardest, your anxiety is skyrocketing through the roof waiting for this conversation with Spencer and still, wondering when and how you are going to spill the beans about carrying his growing child.

"Alright, what is your issue? Are you pregnant?" Alvez is like a brother to you, nothing has been off limits in the talking department but this just sent you for a whole loop with how bluntly he asked.

You were confident that if it were possible, your eyes would've popped right out of their sockets and into your lap.

"Alvez, I am not discussing this with you right now" you whisper yelled to him, you didn't mean to come off like a bitch at all but god only knows who could've heard him.

"Well, Y/N, If I am being entirely honest. Penelope lets some things slip from time to time" He states like it's the most obvious thing ever.

All you can seem to do is look at him like a dear in the headlights, you feel your skin getting hot and prickly, it feels like there are someones hands around your throat squeezing harder and harder by the second.

"I have to go, I need to go home, I need air" It all comes out in a panic, you get up from your desk and bolt out of the bullpen and down the stairs, you don't even care to take the elevator. You cannot be stuck in a tight spot right now, a tight spot like an elevator.

"Please, just communicate" - "I will, you have my word" the conversation in Spencer's office goes through your mind and you know that you have to communicate with him that you just left work for the day and you don't plan to come back today, atleast- you couldn't and thankfully, it was Friday.

to: Spencer 'The Genius' Reid

'I have to excuse myself for the day, I'm sorry that I am having to send you a text message about this rather than coming to your office- this is me communicating with you. I will return back to my work duties on Monday, unless of course, a case pops up over the weekend then I will be here'

'also, I know we need to have a conversation, I also have something I need to tell you- let me know when you would like this conversation to take place' -

After sending your texts to Spencer, you set your phone on DND because at this point, you don't want to deal with anything or anyone else today, emergency or not.

Driving home was an entire blur, I mean you made it home alive, so that's what matters, I guess.

Walking inside, you plop onto the couch and turn on your favorite comfort show.. Modern Family.

A few hours later, you wake up in the exact place you laid down at- you thought your couch was so comfy until now when your entire body is in pain.. well, maybe it was your horrible sleeping position.

5:13 P.M -

"sweet baby jesus on a motorbike" You mutter to yourself after looking at the clock

"what are you doing to me?" You ask while poking your non-existent baby bump, granted it was a great sleep so you weren't trying to complain- you had heard from JJ in the past that early pregnancy is exhausting and you will sleep.. ALOT.

**BACK AT THE BAU**

"I just practically asked her if it was true but maybe in a more blunt way, it wasn't meant to come out so.. blunt" Alvez explains to Penelope who apparently watched you sprint out of work.

"I specifically told you not to say anything to her about it, I didn't even mean to let it slip to you of all people, Luke. I don't even think that they were in a relationship which makes this so much more difficult for her, as I could imagine" Pen snaps back at Luke.

"It's not going past me, I'm not opening my mouth to anyone about it" Luke says while walking to the Elevator with Pen, finally the work day was over

"Yeah, you let it slip to someone or who knows, I accidentally do again and Spencer is going to find out which right now, that doesn't need to happen" Pen states while being wildly unaware of who just came up behind them

"What doesn't Spencer need to find out right now and why can't he find out right now?" He asks from directly behind Alvez and Garcia, looking between the two of them for a answer.

Luke and Penelope both seem to jump straight out of their skin, not expecting to be crept up on- in reality, it was not Spencer's plan to creep up on them, he just happened to be leaving at the exact time as them and they didn't hear him coming up in the middle of their 'supposed to be' private conversation that was happening out in the open.

"I- uh it's nothing, well, sir, it's nothing in regards to me, i'm fine- it's not my place to tell you, it wasn't my place to tell, Luke- it just slipped and I am blabbering and I just realized that I need to get home" Before Spencer or Luke could say anything to her or anything more to Spencer, she's in the elevator with the doors closing.

'Nice Penelope, real nice' Luke thinks to himself, feeling a bit annoyed and slightly scared

Turning to look behind him, he sees Spencer's eyes boring right into him like he's staring right into Luke's soul, just waiting and searching for answers.

"Is there anything that you know, Alvez?" Spencer finally breaks the silence, otherwise who knows how long the two of them would've stayed standing there in the awkward paralyzing silence.

"I just know Y/N had to leave early today because, well I don't know why but I just know she left- you're her boss too, she should've communicated with you, right?"

"Right, Luke and she did, I have been trying to text and call her since I received her messages and nothing is going through" Reid is quick to bite back, getting quite annoyed himself being left in the dark and now that he is adding the pieces together, he's assuming these secretive things that "he isn't allowed to know about currently" are about you.

"I don't have any other information, what I told you is all I know- but I do need to get home to Roxy" Luke matter-of-factly states even though Luke knows that Luke is lying, well- not about Roxy but about the first part.

"Mhm, alright. Have a good night, Luke" Spencer gave up on trying to get any information out of the turnips that don't bleed but he is confident when he says this is about you and he will get to the bottom of it.

Back at your apartment, you've finally relaxed after a nice hot shower and ordering from your favorite chinese food joint and yes, still watching your comfort show but this time from the comfort of your own bed.

You still haven't even taken your phone off of DND mode, in your mind all you thought was 'if it is important enough, you know where I live and if you don't, contact Penelope Garcia' and the most important part, you were at peace.

You weren't worried about this pregnancy, you had accepted your fate, you weren't worried about Spencer or his new situ-relationship, you weren't even worried about what had happened with Alvez or Garcia. Peace.

"jesus Spencer, what the fuck" You yell out after walking out of the room and coming face to face with him, to say that you were startled was to say the absolute least

"Well, you would've known I was coming if someone didn't have their phone on airplane mode" He bit back with a darkness in his eyes and maybe a bit of worrisome, you couldn't tell everything with how dark it was.

"I know that I gave people a key to my house for emergencies but our conversation or how I was protecting my peace on a Friday night is not an emergency and frankly, if anyone was that worried, you would've sent someone sooner" You were once again fed up and wanted to continue to be alone with your favorite person, Phil Dunphy.

"I was going to drop our conversation until this weekend or even Monday, when we see each other in person again but funny enough, I was walking out to leave for the day when I walked into Luke's and Penelope's conversation and it was about you and something that I shouldn't be finding out about right now- would you happen to know anything about that?" Spencer replied, getting more and more fed up by the second.

If Spencer didn't know any better, he would say that you looked like you just saw a ghost- he was dead on the money about the conversation and some secret rooting back to you- now to just get it out of you.

Calming down after seeing the state you were rushing into, he comes to you with a softer approach - "Y/N, I want to help you. We've known each other for years, since I started working for the BAU, please let me know. Let me know what is going on. I'm not going anywhere"

You felt like you were about to up-chuck your chinese food all over this poor man, you know you need to tell him.

'Y/N you will never know the outcome of this unless you open your mouth and spill those words to him, be brave, be bold' You think silently to yourself.

"Spencer, I'm pregnant - You are the last person I slept with. I am pregnant with your baby"

if this is horrible, sue me - i haven't written in forever and honestly, this is a little bit longer than i thought it would be - whoops!

FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED

& yeah, yeah- i left this on a cliffhanger, if you beautiful humans actually like this, i had planned to make this a 2 parter story or who knows, if i make the next part longer then it could be 3 or more parts.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds gif #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #luke alvez #penelope garcia #emily prentiss

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bibuckkinard · 2 days

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Reprieve

Hi again, it's me, I'm the problem, it's me. I really didn't intend to write anything tonight, but I have too many words in my head. This is another fic, this time super short and sweet, for @bucktommypositivityweek round two, day 4: supportive boyfriends. I hope you guys like it!

bucktommy - Words: 554 - Rating: T - Complete

Tommy thinks Evan looks hot like this, sweaty, hands taped and punching the pads Tommy's got attached to his hands as Evan hits right, left, right, left and rants. Too bad this rant is about a man who made Tommy's days at the 118 his most miserable days in the closet. "I don't know how much more I can handle," Evan pants out with one more hit before putting his hands on his hips and folding in on himself at the waist. “What was it today?” Tommy asks, not sure if he wants to know. Evan is silent for a moment then he stands to his full height and says, “He asked me if faeries like to fly on the top or the bottom.” Tommy thinks about that one. He knows what Gerrard is going for but- “That doesn’t even make sense.” Evan throws his hands up in frustration. “I know! Like, if you’re going to be homophobic, at least make it good!” “He’s probably running out of ideas at this point.” Evan blows out a breath. “I know you said you wanted to avoid telling me what to do here, but I’m going crazy.” Tommy moves forward to wrap his arms around Evan’s waist, pulling him in. Evan wraps his arms around him in turn and practically sags against Tommy, so much so that Tommy’s more or less holding him up. “I have avoided giving you advice about this because I’m just not sure I’m the right person to do it,” Tommy admits. “I dealt with him by staying closeted and being an asshole.” “You did that to survive,” Evan points out, not for the first time. “I know but I still don’t feel great about it.” “I know,” Evan says. “If you could do it differently, what would you do?” “What you’re already doing,” Tommy says instantly, then motions to Evan’s curly hair, which he stopped using straighteners on three days after Gerrard started. They’re adorable and currently ruffled from the practice but Tommy freaking loves running his fingers through them at any given time. “He hates those right?” Evan grins. “Oh yeah. But it’s still within regulations so he can’t do anything about it. So what, keep changing my appearance? Should I grow a mustache like Eddie?” They both say, at the same time, “Nah.” Tommy laughs a little. “No. I am saying you could just annoy the shit out of him. You could go at him with a clipboard? Find all the regulations he’s missed because there have to be like a hundred by now.” “He’s a hypocrite,” Evan says and Tommy shrugs, because yeah. Gerrard always picked and chose what to follow and what to ignore based on what suited him. “But yeah, that’s an idea. Weaponize my powers for evil. Excellent. Thank you. I know you haven’t wanted to tell me what to do about this, but you’ve been a godsend for just, like, keeping me from killing him.” “Can’t hold you like this if you’re in prison,” Tommy points out, hearing the fondness in his own voice. “True.” Tommy smiles and kisses his cheek. “Do you want to keep going? We haven’t eaten anything for dinner yet.” Evan gives him a squeeze. “Make out in the shower first?” Evan, naked and wet in the shower? “You’re on.”

tag list: @desert--moonchild, @sazzynatural, @multishippinghussy, @mmso-notlikethat, @tommy-kinard-buckley,

@sunnywithachanceofbi, @sleepywinchesters, @buck-up-buckley, @manifestingchaoticvibes, @corvid-cryptidd

@lbltpsmspenguin, @theotherbuckley

#911 #bucktommy #fic #my fic #bucktommypositivityweek

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trippinsorrows · 2 days

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looking through your eyes + seventeen

authors note: this chapter covers the aftermath of solana's attempt in the previous chapter. please heed to content warnings in order to make an informed decision regarding reading this chapter.

i'm going to handle solana's experience in the hospital as realistically as i can, but there are creative liberties taken as well. and don't come for me for the ending either. :/

cw/tw: angst, discussion and coverage of the aftermath of a suicide attempt, mental health discussions.

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

masterlist

words: 15k

Roman has a long to-do list. He always does and always will. But, this is by far one of the last things he wants to do.

He’s going on 24 hours of no sleep, which isn’t the first time he’s done as such, but it’s the first time he’s done as such and actually felt the impact of the sleep deprivation. And truth be told, deep down he knows the exhaustion that he feels is more mental than anything.

It’s the result of the toll that finding out Solana tried to kill herself has taken on him.

Is taking on him.

But, he can’t deal with that shit right now. He can’t deal with it because he’s got his Wise Man, Rikishi, Solo, Jimmy and Jey all sitting around him, wearing various levels of confused expressions. Which only irritates Roman more because Rikishi and Paul are the only ones who should be confused. The twins have been with him dealing with all of the shit the past 24 hours.

Solo too.

Rikishi is the first to speak, studying Roman. The Tribal Chief is more than sure he noticed the grimace on Roman’s face as he went to roll his shoulders, remembering yet again of the wound that probably won’t heal as quickly as predicted given the fact he’s done the complete opposite of ‘taking it easy.’

“You gonna tell us what happened or—”

“There was an assassination attempt on Solana’s life last night.” Roman’s sentence is matter-of-fact and to the point, nevermind the fact that his right hand forms into a fist at just saying as such.

Rikishi and Paul share shocked expressions, Roman’s older cousin being the one to ask, “is she—”

“Bullet hit me instead. Didn’t lodge. I’ll be fine.” Roman only adds that last part because of the horrified look on Paul’s face, already knowing his Wise Man will bombard him with questions about his injury. “Xavier Miller and his boy were behind the attempt. I’m handling them now.”

“But sir, why would Miller want his own daughter dead?”

Roman closes his eyes and rolls his neck, working to settle his rising temper. He hates talking about this shit. It only spikes his eagerness to get his hands on Miller and rip him apart limb by limb. “Because she didn’t go along with his plan.”

Rikishi speaks up again. “Plan?”

Roman’s jaw clenches. “He wanted her to kill me.”

The rest of the men look equally shocked, Paul gasping loudly, asking, “she’s a traitor?”

If looks could kill, Paul would be six feet under. Roman has to mentally restrain from acting out on his suddenly murderous urges. “She’s my wife.”

Rikishi, however, seemingly tosses his longtime friend a lifeline, trying to reason with his younger cousin. “Uce, that doesn’t mean she can’t be both—”

“What I’m hearing….” Solo surprises the men around the table as he sits forward. “—is that she can’t be trusted.”

Roman isn’t sure just how much of his anger and rage at the accusations being slung against Solana is showing, his Solana, but it must be enough for the twins, of all people, to try and de-escalate.

“Come on now, this is Soso we talking about.” Jimmy is the first to kick off peacemaking. He looks at his father, “pops, you was there when we first met her. She was nervous as shit. Ain’t nothing about that girl dangerous.”

Jey chimes in, handling Solo. “And you of all people should definitely know that’s not Solana. She would never hurt nobody, let alone kill nobody.”

Solo, however, simply scoffs. “Like she ain’t hurt her brother?”

“What was she supposed to do? Let him beat her?” Jimmy is the one to snap, shouting back with a suck of his teeth, “man, that bitch deserved it!”

Rikishi jumps in, defending his younger son. “I think what Solo is trying to say is that it proves she is, in fact, capable of hurting someone if she wanted to.”

“Why would she want to hurt Roman? That don’t even make no—”

“Enough!” Roman’s fist slams down on the table. “The next person to say one more negative thing about my wife is getting a bullet in their fucking skull.” There’s a blanket of silence, all of the men knowing that Roman would absolutely carry through on this threat. A promise, really.

Roman swallows, both from anger and something else he can’t pinpoint. “Solana tried to kill herself last night. What in the fuck about that presents a danger?” He doesn’t care enough to observe the reactions of that news. Doesn’t give a fuck. “The only person she’s a danger to is herself.”

Paul is the brave soul, or perhaps just stupidly and naively asking, “is she—okay?”

“I said tried, didn’t I?” Roman snaps, forcing the pudgy man to recoil back in his seat. Roman clenches his jaw yet again, directing his statement to the next older man. “Rikishi.” He runs a hand over his face. “Meet with the Elders. Tell them about the assassination attempt. That it was Miller. Nothing about the plan. And leave it at that.”

Rikishi removes his glasses, sitting up at the table. “Roman, the Elders should know—”

“The Elders know what I want them to know, and I want them to know that someone tried to kill my wife, and I’m handling it. That’s it.” Incapable of dealing with any more of this shit, Roman stands up from the chair, turning his back on the rest of his family. “Wise Man, let’s go.”

The obese man also shoots up from the chair, nearly tripping over his feet as he wordlessly follows Roman out of the room.

Left alone is just Rikishi and his sons, the patriarch asking, “she tried to kill herself?”

Jimmy and Jey wear similar frowns, recalling the horrific truth they learned about their ‘Soso’ just hours prior. Jimmy shuts his eyes, unable to push away the memory of a hysterical Naomi throwing herself into his chest at the memory of finding Solana unconscious.

“It’s….it’s a long story,” Jey answers in a low voice, wanting to be respectful. Aware or not, Solana’s story is hers to tell and hers only.

Truthfully, he’s slightly surprised Roman even disclosed that part of the past 24 hours.

“Yeah, there’s a lot of the story that Roman left out,” Solo suddenly finds his voice again, sharing directly to his father and brothers. “Like the fact that Roman took that bullet for her.”

“What?” Riksihi asks, shock stamped all over his voice.

“I was right there. I saw the whole thing. He pushed her out the way.”

Jimmy shrugs. “He protected his wife. What’s wrong with that? We all would have done the same.”

Jey nods in agreement. Rikishi looks torn.

Solo continues, pointing out. “But, Roman ain’t like us. He’s the Tribal Chief. He needs to act like it.”

“Careful, son,” Rikishi cautions, seemingly breaking from his conflicted state. “Your Uce sits at the head of the table for a reason. His ways may be unorthodox at times, but his reign won’t be questioned. We won’t disrespect him.”

Solo scoffs. “But you’ll disrespect the other Elders by lying for him?”

Jey jumps in, chiding, “man, what’s up with you tonight?”

Solo scoffs, pointing to himself. “Me? I’m not the one whose judgment is clouded. We all know if this was one of us and the roles were reversed with our wives, Roman would want them executed. He’s not thinking straight.” Solo looks around the room, noticing there’s a brief second of silence. “Ya’ll see it too. I’m just the only one who’s willing to say it. Roman is losing focus—”

“That’s enough, Solo.” Rikishi raises his voice, firmer, that of a father. “You’re out of line, son.”

Solo looks around the room, halfway waiting for his older brothers to jump to his defense, to agree with what they have to know is the truth. But, when that doesn’t happen, he also shoots up from the table, rocking it in the process, leaving the room without another word.

Once gone, Jimmy motions with his thumb. “Man, he is tripping.” He shakes his head, asking his father, “you want us to talk to him?”

“No.” Rikishi answers almost immediately, sighing heavily, running his hand over his face. “I’ll do it….you all just….watch Roman.” He stands up, as Jey mutters something about having the hard job. “And sons….this conversation doesn’t leave this room, understood?” Jimmy and Jey look slightly confused and taken back, Rikishi explaining, “I know you’re both closer with Roman. But, he’s just your cousin. Solo is your brother. He’s definitely tripping, but he’s still your family too, and there’s nothing more important than brotherhood, alright?”

________

Roman awakens with a heavy sigh that’s followed by his eyes closing.

His sleep has been shit the past few days, and it’s been solely because his bed is cold and empty on the other side. Because he’s sleeping alone, something he once cherished but now can barely tolerate. He didn’t realize just how much he enjoyed Solana’s soft body pressed up against him, the satisfaction he felt waking up to her every morning.

Now, he just awakens to silence or the sound of Dulce whimpering or barking.

Dulce’s whimpers on the side of the bed remind him of the fact that she’s still sleeping in his room. In their room. On Solana’s side.

Her empty side.

Moving the blankets off, Roman swings his big body over the side of the bed and walks over to motion for her to follow him. “Come on.”

He knows she has to empty her bladder, but he’s grateful for a reason to leave the space that reeks of Solana, a constant reminder of her absence.

It’s….an experience, to say the least.

Picking her up, he carries her down the steps, through the house, and out the back sliding door by the kitchen. Roman places her in the grass, letting her do her business as he goes to sit down on the edge of one of the chaise lounge.

He closes his eyes.

Love.

Suck a weird fucking thing. Something he’s never really understood.

Or felt.

Not….not in this aspect at least.

He’s always been confounded by the emotion that makes people act so outside of their character, clouds their judgment, and seizes their brain in crippling ways. He never saw the appeal in it. Never wanted it.

And then came Solana.

If someone had told him four months ago that he’d not only be married to a woman he actually cares about let alone would end up loving, he’d probably knock them flat on their ass. Harshly criticize their stupidity at the very least.

Falling in love with Solana was never the plan. He never wanted this for himself. He just needed to marry to create an official heir. And that was it. She would do her thing, taking care of the kid and whatnot. And he would still do him, continuing his life of commitment free sexual relations with whoever was his flavor of the week. Or day.

And yet all of that, just the thought of it, sours his expression.

He doesn’t want anyone other than Solana. Doesn’t desire to be intimate with anyone other than her. It’s her he wants to wake up to every morning, her he wants to make happy. He just wants her. Nobody else.

Because he loves her.

And it’s a shocking, life changing realization he finally stumbled into while sitting at her hospital bed. An epiphany he’s certain was heavily transitioned from subconscious to conscious given the events that transpired that night.

She almost died, was almost shot, and there’s not a fucking part of him would do anything differently. He’d take that bullet and any other bullet for her anytime.

Because he loves her.

He stood between her and her piece of shit father, not thinking twice about it, only knowing that decision would forever negatively change her life. Thinking how he promised her he would never let her end up in that position.

Because he loves her.

And he sat at her hospital bed, holding her hand, pouring his heart out to her because the second those infamous words left Jey’s mouth, his world nearly collapsed. He couldn’t think straight as he rushed to the hospital, uncaring and uninterested in anything except being with her, holding her, catering to her. Whatever she needed. He just needs her to be okay.

Because he loves her.

Roman’s head tilts back, the weight of all this lying on his chest.

He can’t deny it. Can’t deny he loves her. Not to himself, at least. He just doesn’t know what the fuck to do about it.

There’s…..there’s no room for love in his life. No place for it. Love is weakness, and Roman has never and can never be weak. He’s the Tribal Chief. The Head of the Table. The leader of the Bloodline and Cosa Nostra. There is no space for weakness.

Or love.

And yet….it’s there.

It’s there for her.

Dulce walking over to the chaise lounge that Roman realizes is usually the one she sits on when she’s writing brings him back to the sadness that creeps in at her absence. Dulce must feel the same as she lays down, ears also down, whimpering.

Roman beckons her over, watching as she slowly walks over to his feet, ears still down as he picks her up and places her on his lap. It’s something not even a week ago he would probably do. But, that was then, and this is now.

And now, he almost feels a sense of duty to Solana’s puppy.

Because it’s this same puppy, he’s learned, that barked nonstop at Bayley and Naomi, running over to Solana and starting to cry, effectively alerting them that something was wrong.

Very wrong.

With an uncharacteristic level of emotion, Roman gently strokes the top of her head. “You saved her life….” For his own mental sanity, Roman chooses not to think about what the alternative could have been. What his reality would be if this small, five pound animal didn’t have such a close, protective bond to her human. “Thank you.”

Dulce whimpers in response, laying her body on his lap, staring at the empty pool chair.

Roman sighs, eyes shutting again.

The emotion is undeniable as he acknowledges in a soft voice. “I miss her too..”

This shit is much harder than he realized.

________

Roman: How are you doing?

Solana glances at her lock screen at hearing the familiar, personalized notification sound. The sound she set specifically for texts from her husband. Her smile is already set on her face but settles into something deeper as another message slides in.

Roman: Do you need me to come home?

Placing the pencil down on the nearest surface, she swaps out her task at hand for a brief break to respond to the question she anticipated would be proposed at some point in the day.

Just not this soon, perhaps.

Solana wipes one hand on her shorts, the other unlocking her phone to open his thread. Preparing to reply, her gaze shifts over to her sweet baby boy, sleeping peacefully in his infant pillow. Low, relaxing music plays from her Alexa on the nightstand, lulling and keeping him in his slumber. Similarly, Dulce lays peacefully in her bed on Solana’s side of the bed, curled into a little ball.

The smile somehow grows deeper.

Solana: I’m okay. You don’t need to come home, really.

Solana quickly snaps a photo of the baby and includes it with her next message.

Solana: We’re good. :)

Solana brings her finger to gently caress her son’s cheek. He has such a calm disposition about him. Even at 6 weeks. She can just see he’s taken on more of her demeanor than his dad’s. Granted, she also noticed the same thing about her oldest twin, only for her to gradually be morphing into the female version of her father.

Roman hearting the photo captures her attention once again followed by his reply, which seems to be the result of long distance mind reading.

Roman: He’s been a lot easier than the girls were. But, time will tell.

Roman: Where are they?

She giggles, imagining his elongated sigh as he considers what could be in store for them once their son starts to get bigger and older. Can move around and get into things with his sisters. It’s more likely than not bound to happen.

Solana: In their playrooms. They’ve been surprisingly quiet too….for now. Lol

Solana knows her girls well enough to know silence with them, mostly when they’re together, isn’t usually long lived. The quieter of the two is very much like Solana, able to stay and keep to herself just fine without making much or any noise. Her sister, however, older by 6 minutes exactly, is not.

She is rambunctious and loud and loves to be moving. And when they’re together, that adventurous nature rubs off on Solana’s twin, usually resulting in them getting into something. More often than not.

Roman: I talked to them last night. Reminded them it's important they listen and help you out.

This is something she already knew, having overheard as he put them to bed while she catered to their newborn. He’s done that a lot since the birth of their son. Really taken over as much as he can with helping the girls, when it’s something he can do. And if he can’t do it, like them wanting to do art with her or bake something, usually the youngest vs the oldest, he’s on baby duty.

Whether he realizes it or not, he truly is great at being a dad. Though something tells her, always has, that even three kids deep, he struggles with that insecurity at not being good at it.

Not being good enough.

Roman: I still think it was too early for me to come back to work and leave you alone with everything.

And there it is. What Solana already knew he was thinking but is happy to see him finally admit. Roman’s been working from home the past six weeks, since the birth of their son. And while she’s appreciated having him home, helping her out with managing their growing family, it was time for him to return back to the ‘office.’

She knows he worries about her, worries about her feeling overwhelmed, but she’s been good the past few years with being open with him. That hasn’t and won’t change.

Solana: You were going to have to go back eventually, Ro. I’m okay, really. The girls really don’t cause me any issues. And he’s easy.

Solana: Outside of when he’s groping and squeezing the mess out of my breast. 😅

Breastfeeding has never been much of an issue for Solana. And, while it was definitely a bit of a challenge breastfeeding twins, there was never a pressing enough problem for her to not consider doing the same for her third child.

Granted, unlike the girls who, at most, felt around her breast while getting their fill, her son is more handsy. His little palms often slapping, squeezing and even scratching with his nails she makes sure to try to keep cut low.

She chuckles, thinking about how this could very much be another small sign she’s in store for yet another energetic child. It lines up though. Even when he’s sleepy, little scowl on his face, she sees Roman. In all of the children, really. But with him, the way his little lips dip and light eyebrows cave into a look of unmistakable disapproval, usually when she takes too long to pick him up or feed him, that’s all Roman.

Roman: Smart kid.

She giggles, sending out a reply that’s a result of years of growing more comfortable with teetering the lines of risque topics and innuendos.

Solana: Your kid, clearly. 😅

Roman: Damn straight.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she keeps the conversation going with another risky text.

Solana: Just two more weeks until I’m….cleared.

Over the years, and as she’s continued to heal, Solana has found herself with a sexual appetite that’s nowhere near her husband’s nor most women her age, but it’s there. Coming and going. Ebbing and flowing. And lately, it’s been on the flowing side.

Roman: We should wait longer.

Roman: I’m not taking any risks.

She sighs at his reply that’s not entirely unsurprising. He absolutely would want to go past the recommended 8 weeks that she was told by her doctor that they would need to wait to resume intimacy. An extended period of time than the usual 6 weeks due to the second degree tear she sustained while birthing her third child. A thing that can happen during childbirth and wasn’t anything too serious, but something she knows her husband sees as just that.

Thus him wanting to not ‘take any risks.’

Solana: I understand.

Understanding is different from agreeing, but she won’t push him on it.

Solana: Besides, don’t want to risk another baby.

Solana: Just yet anyway….

Having this conversation over text probably isn’t the way to go, but she has no doubt he’ll talk with her about it more in person when he comes home tonight, after all three kids are down for bed.

That doesn’t mean they can’t start it now, at least, though.

Roman: Seriously? You really want another baby?

Roman: He isn’t even a year yet.

Roman: You forget I’m 10 years older than you. I’m getting too old for all these kids, Solana.

It’s true they just welcomed their baby boy not even two months ago. And Roman is aging. He’s older, the gray in his beard spreading by the day, but he’s still just as active and fit into his forties as he was when they met years prior. Thus, he’s exaggerating.

Solana: No, you’re not.

Solana: And that wasn’t a no…..

His reply comes in a bit quicker than she was anticipating.

Roman: It wasn’t.

She smiles. Solana has learned her husband well over the years. Knows him well enough to know that if there wasn’t a part of him also interested in maybe having another child, he would be clear about his standpoint. He would express his disagreement.

So his comment would suggest he’s not team no. That he’s open, and his following texts confirm as such.

Roman: But, this would be it. Four is more than enough.

She smiles, knowing that this definitely will still be discussed in person tonight but happy that he’s unwilling to deny himself. Solana’s love for him has only deepened since seeing him step into the role of fatherhood.

She just wishes she could get him to see how good he is at this. The girls wouldn’t adore him as much as they do if he was bad at it, per se.

But, he’s not.

If only he could see it.

Solana: Unless we get another set of twins….😅

Roman: Jesus Christ

Solana giggles, imagining the look he must have on his face. Probably similar to when they found out about the girls. She wasn’t entirely surprised given how strongly twins run on his side of the family.

But, he most certainly was.

A quiet knock pulls her from the conversation as she lays her eyes on the twins who are waiting by the door with hesitant expressions. She waves them over, placing her finger over her mouth to remind them to be quiet to avoid waking up the still sleeping baby.

They tip toe over to her, moving to her side of the bed, leaning over and looking at him. The oldest is the one to ask, whispering, “why does he sleep so much, mama?”

Solana chuckles. “That’s what babies do. They need a lot of sleep to grow big and strong.”

The quieter of the two of them deviates from her usual silence to predict, “he’s gonna be big and strong like papa.”

The oldest, however, doesn’t hesitate to reiterate. “I’m still gonna be the tribal chief though.”

Solana has such a torn reaction she does well at hiding. As much as she loves how much her technically first born admires Roman and wants to be just like him, she also has no idea just what it is that Roman really does. The true weight that comes with wearing the Ula Fala.

Or the fact that by his family’s laws and traditions, their son is the true heir to the Bloodline. Granted, she also suspects it’s those same laws and traditions Roman will fight tooth and nail to change should their daughter, even after knowing the truth about the Bloodline, still want to pursue taking his place when the time comes for him to step down.

Roman would do anything to give her just as much a chance to the keys to the kingdom as her brother.

But, that’s so far down the line, and Solana doesn’t like thinking about it too much. She just wants to enjoy her children as they are now, innocent and oblivious.

Ms. Quiet stays on her talking streak, asking quietly, “can we still go to aunt Bayley’s house today?”

Solana nods. She briefly forgot about that, but it’s still very much doable. “Of course.”

The girls gasp and look at each other, Solana already knowing another request is about to follow. Roman’s little twin ends up being the one to ask, “mama, can we go see papa at his office before?”

She shouldn’t be surprised. One of their favorite things to do is stop by and see Roman while he’s at work. Something she hasn’t done in some time, not since the birth of her son and even then, it had been a few months.

Solana starts to text and ask him if he’s busy, but one look at the happiness on the girls’ faces at being able to see their dad, and she knows she doesn’t need to.

She knows there’s no way on God’s green earth that he would turn them away, even if he stopped or canceled a meeting just to interact with them.

That’s just the kind of father he is.

His kids come first.

With excitement bubbling in her stomach at seeing her husband, Solana takes a glance at her son, smile growing as he stirs, clearly just as ready to see daddy.

She then looks back at her just excited girls, sharing, “time to go see papa.”

“Time to get up.”

Solana has to blink a couple of times to reorient herself, almost entirely due to the shocking nature of her dream. A dream she’s now had every night since being admitted to the hospital, glimpses, and what feels like peeks, into the future.

Her future.

But, at the same time, it’s a distant thing that seems unattainable and unrealistic given where she is now. On a legally mandated psychiatric hold after attempting to die by suicide.

“You up, sweetie?”

Solana nods and sits up in the bed, accepting the water and pills in the small medicine bowl. She doesn’t hesitate to swallow all three, offering a small smile to the nurse who’s been assigned to her, making sure she takes her medication as prescribed.

The nurse, Carol, she thinks, reminds, “breakfast starts in twenty.”

Solana nods, pushing back some of her hair, waiting for the older woman to leave before she lays back down on the bed.

She shuts her eyes.

The past few days have been…..an experience. An emotional ride unlike any she’s been on in years. The last time she can recall struggling and feeling as heavy as she was was when she woke up from her coma and had it confirmed that her mother was dead. Something she knew but held onto the invisible string of hope that Nina somehow survived.

Even though Solana still recalls the moment she heard and saw her mother take her last breath.

It’s a weight that’s lessened tremendously over the past couple of days, since she woke up yet a second time, less irrational, not as hysterical. Part of her reaction was most definitely due to still feeling suicidal, still believing that being dead would be better for everyone. But her reaction was exacerbated by the fact that two male nurses moved to restrain her as she tried to move from the hospital bed. Having male hands on her like that was triggering and made her emotions that much more difficult to manage in an already tense situation.

But the second time she awoke, Solana saw nothing but women. Truth be told, she’s only had women on her care team since being admitted. It’s made such a big difference.

All of it has.

Being in this space, so separated from the outside world. It’s been both difficult and welcomed. A nice escape from a recently draining reality but also a heavy separation that she’s brought up a couple times now in her individual therapy sessions with her therapist, Gail.

That is the difficulty in being separated from Roman. It’s a dichotomy. As much as she wants to see and talk to him, she wants to hide and avoid him. She wants to explain yet also never have to discuss it again. An avoidance behavior that is typical for survivors of suicide attempts, another thing she’s learned in therapy thus far.

But more than anything, Solana just wants to talk to him. She remembers from when she was admitted as a teen following her first attempt that communication is typically cut off from the outside. She just didn’t realize it would be the same protocol as an adult.

Something intended to avoid patients from being re-triggered. She gets that, but it doesn't make her miss him any less.

This is the first time they’ve been separated from one another since before the wedding, and it’s not a fun experience.

But yet….

It’s not a horrible experience either.

No one wants to be in the hospital. And no one definitely wants to be in the hospital on a legal hold because they’ve been deemed a danger to themselves and thus needs 24/7 supervision.

That part sucks, but what hasn’t sucked for Solana is being able to be as honest and vulnerable as she needs to be. To cry and fully acknowledge the extent of her feelings, to be as raw as she’s been in her therapy sessions thus far with Gail. The woman whose kind smile, non-judgemental and self-disclosure of also being violated has created such a safe space for her.

Solana knew, knows, that she can talk to Roman. That he’s made it clear there’s nothing she can’t discuss with him. But, there’s something about speaking to another woman, someone who’s also sadly been through something similar that’s….that’s healing, almost.

Knowing Carol will be back for another reminder about breakfast, Solana pulls from her thoughts and leaves her bed to start her day.

Everything in the hospital is planned, time cut out for everything from meds, breakfast, group therapy, individual therapy and more. There’s only so much time in the day that’s reserved as ‘free time,’ though being hospitalized doesn’t present a ton of options for one to choose from during said ‘free time.’

However, Solana has always been able to occupy herself and keep herself busy, and this is no different.

Later that day, she’s in one of the common areas, utilizing her free time with one of her favorite coping mechanisms. One she’s recently revisited and brought back to lean on. Pencil in hand, Solana uses the sketchbook she was given by Gail. No particular drawing in mind, it’s not missed on her how the bare bones outline of the face she’s drawing has very similar features to that of her husband.

“Hey.”

Solana lifts her head from the page, landing on two women who she’s seen in passing and up close in her group therapy. Both are brunette with similar heights yet different builds. The shorter one looks like she keeps herself in the gym, slender muscles visible even with the hospital provided clothing they all wear. The other is a few inches taller and curvier, her breast stretched against the material. The shorter one is the one who spoke. One looks amenable, the other does not. The one who spoke is, unfortunately, not the one with the friendly expression.

Solana swallows, gaze somewhat traveling as she sees one of the orderlies already watching the interaction. Closely. He’s a big man whose size looks disproportionate to the job he holds here, and she’s noticed him watching her a couple of times. Yet, it’s never been a predatory gaze. Almost…..protective.

“Solana, right?” She nods as the two women plop on the other sofa adjacent to the one Solana sits on. “I’m AJ, and this is Candice.” She gestures to the other woman with her thumb, the brunette waving and smiling almost giddily. Before Solana can say anything else, AJ is leaned over, asking in a low voice. “You’re Roman’s wife, right?”

Solana tenses. For some reason, that rubs her the wrong way, sends an unfamiliar chill up her spine. Something in her tells her to lie, but it’s no use in denying the obvious. “Yes.”

AJ snorts and sits back, arm lazily lounged up on the top of the sofa. “Well, I was gonna ask you how’d you end up here, but I guess that’s an obvious answer.” AJ laughs darkly, making her comment to Candice but directing it towards Solana. “I’d try to off myself too if I had to be married to that son of a bitch.”

Clearly, Solana has not been in a good place recently, hence her current situation. Her emotions have been all over the place. That’s why she chalks up her next actions to the fact that she’s still coming down from her relapse.

Closing up the sketchpad, Solana sits up and doesn't stutter as she states clearly and concisely to AJ, “you have no idea what the hell you’re talking about, so why don’t you just shut up and leave me alone?”

Candice's shock matches that of Solana’s, but the former doesn’t back down. Doesn’t suddenly regret her statement. Maybe it’s adrenaline. Maybe it’s the fact that Solana feels the anger stirring inside her at even the insinuation that Roman could ever be the cause of her trying to end her life.

When he’s the one that saved it.

AJ, however, doesn’t look shocked. She looks pissed off.

And then she’s smiling.

“Oh, sweetie, you have no idea who you’re messing with.” AJ starts to stand up, Candice following suit though she looks more confused and dumbfounded than anything. Like she’s there but not here. “Your psychopath husband isn’t here to save you—”

“You lay one hand on her, and I’ll snap your fucking neck like a twig.”

Three sets of eyes land on the figure who’s way too big for them to have not heard his footsteps, but that’s exactly what’s happened. The orderly who Solana has noticed watching her since her admission is standing almost protectively beside where she still sits on the sofa. His gaze and voice are hard as steel, focused on AJ and Candice. “I suggest you leave. Now. And stay the hell away from her.”

Solana looks between this man who, for some reason, is defending her and AJ, who still looks more amused than anything. She scoffs. “Of course.” Frowning, Solana is still stuck on the fact that this orderly who’s working in a psychiatric wing for women who’ve tried to kill themselves just threatened to kill another woman when AJ simply turns to walk away, Candice hot on her heel.

And as soon as they're out of the vicinity, the man steps back, as if wanting to grant Solana space. He then exclaims, further deepening her shock, “you’ll be safe here, Mrs. Reigns. You have my word.”

Mrs. Reigns…..

Solana is suddenly taken back to her birthday trip, the way she was addressed by the pilots, the chef, and anyone else that Roman hired to assist them on their vacation. And that’s when it hits her.

“Bloodline…..” It makes so much sense. Why he’s always seemed to be around when she’s not in her room, the way he’s watched her almost nonstop since she arrived, the way he intervened just now. “You’re Bloodline.”

“Dave.” He offers a small, respectful smile that’s all the answer she needs. “But everyone calls me by my last name, Bautista.”

________

“Hey.”

It’s interesting how a simple word can bring on such a reaction.

Just yesterday, the same word was said to her and followed up with a not terrible but strange interaction.

She can only pray this time around is different.

Solana takes a second to pause and shut her eyes before she looks up from her inner arm where she works on the assignment given in her first group therapy session.

Her eyes land on three women, all familiar faces because they’re all in her group. However, she’s never directly spoken to them prior to now.

Solana swallows and offers a small smile. “Hi….”

Solana studies all of them, different in skintones, builds, hair colors and even facial expressions. The one who spoke first pushes her raven hair over shoulder and clears her throat, asking, “is it—is it true that your husband had the orderlies and security replaced with Bloodline members?”

The question takes her back, Solana unsure of how to respond, not because she doesn’t know the answer. She does. Baustista indirectly confirming that he was sent by her husband to watch over her has made Solana realize that it’s not just him who she catches watching her whenever she’s not in her room. It’s other men as well. Big, strong, much too in shape for a job like this.

The only logical thing that makes sense to her is that Roman is, once again, looking out for her. As he always does.

“That’s pretty fucking cool. If so.” Another one comments, her brunette pulled to the side of her neck as she sits down on the sofa opposite Solana. “It was even better seeing AJ put in her place.”

Solana swallows, quite unsure just how to respond to that. “I—I don’t want to cause any problems.”

The first woman scoffs, also sitting down next to the other lady. “You might not, but AJ does. I honestly don’t know why they don’t put her in the other wing with Victoria.”

“The other wing?”

The third woman breaks her silence, explaining, her voice quiet and typical for her equally unassuming demeanor. “There’s two psychiatric wings here. The one we’re in and another for more….severe cases.”

“I.e. the really crazy bitches.”

“Melina!” The woman with brunette hair shakes her head, smiling a little as she formally introduces everyone. “I’m Mickey. This is Melina, and that’s Cameron, but we call her Cam.”

For some reasons, the names fit all of them, Solana moving to the side as Cam gestures to the space next to her and takes an almost apprehensive seat.

“Solana—”

“Oh, everyone knows who you are, girl.” Mickey snickers, leaning back into the sofa and crossing her legs over one another. “You might just be my new favorite person.”

Solana frowns, completely lost at this seemingly random title. “I don’t—-I don’t understand.”

“AJ thinks she runs shit around here. Her and that dumbass friend of hers, Candice Michelle.” Melina explains, shaking her head. “AJ definitely should be in the other ward with Victoria. She’s the psychiatrist that runs it. Doesn’t put up with shit. Almost polar opposite of Dr. Stratus.”

Solana doesn’t know much beyond what’s being said, but something tells her she’s most definitely in the better of two places. Even if just getting to have Dr. Stratus manages her meds. She really likes her.

However, this conversation brings up a very valid question that Solana doesn’t exactly know how to word very well but finds it in her to ask. “So you all….you’ve been here before?”

It’s obvious, given the fact that they’re all so familiar with each other and dynamics. Same with this AJ and Candice person, but Solana doesn’t want to assume.

There’s a silence that falls over the women, and Solana instantly feels bad, feels silly for not recognizing how invasive that question is. However, before she can apologize, Cam is the one to speak up.

Shrugging, her smile is tight and undeniably sad as she says so simply, “demons are hard to kill.”

And just like that, Solana has never related to something more.

Feeling overcome with an almost duty to share, her eyes drop to her arms, the intricate outlines of butterflies camouflaging the scars that will never fully go away. “I get that……I really do.”

Looking up, Solana feels the set of understanding gazes on her, instantly knowing without any of them needing to share specifics that they just get it. They understand the specific and tragic ways one can end up in a place like this, oftentimes due to demons beyond their slaughtering capabilities.

Mickey clears her throat, gesturing to Solana’s arm. “You’re really good.”

She glances down at her still unfinished art, a small smile falling on her face. “Thank you.” An idea crosses her mind as she notices each of them attempted to follow through on the assignment as well but clearly struggled. “I can—I can help, if you want?”

Cam gasps, obviously excited by the idea of it. “Really?”

Solana’s smile grows as she explains, “I—I love art.”

Mickey squeals almost and pulls out a black sharpie from her bra, shrugging with a playful smile.

“We were kinda hoping you said that.”

________

“You’re quiet today.” Gail’s assessment continues as she asks in a gentle voice, “are you nervous?”

Nervous is an understatement. Solana fidgets on the sofa, running her hands down her sweats. “I—I haven’t seen or spoken to him since….you know.”

Gail presses her lips together, nodding. “You don’t know what to expect.”

Solana nods, eyes starting to water. “I don’t—I don’t want him to be upset with me.”

It’s officially been a week since Solana has been admitted into the psychiatric ward. An interesting experience, to say the least. She’s made enemies, made ‘friends’, worked through and started to process with a professional so much of her trauma, and more. And while her longing for seeing and speaking to her husband has only continued to grow by the day. The day finally being here where she’s allowed a visitor, where he will come to see her this evening feels almost….it feels too soon.

She’s just so nervous, unsure of what that reunion is going to look like.

Gail sees the thoughts brewing in her client’s head as she asks in an attempt to redirect, “are you responsible for his emotions?”

“No, but….but I—” When she struggles to get out a coherent response, Gail presents a thought provoking question.

“Solana, based upon what you know about Roman, what’s more likely? That he’ll be upset with you or that he’ll just be happy that you’re alive?”

It’s such a good question, one that has the emotion bubbling in the back of her throat, emotion she shows as silent tears begin to fall. “I—I want him to be happy, but…..”

“You’re still struggling with feeling like a burden to him….” It’s an assessment by her therapist that is wholly correct, but one Solana can’t verbally comment on, only offering her agreement with a silent head nod. “Do you remember the exercise we did a couple of sessions ago about faulty thinking? About the ways your trauma influences your thinking.”

Solana reflects back on that session, so heavy yet so helpful. It provided her such insight on just how deeply her experiences have painted her view of so much. Of everything, really. Including how she so lowly views herself sometimes.

“I want you to think about that and compare it to the thoughts that you’re having now……where are they coming from?”

Solana closes her eyes and blows out a breath. “My…my fear.”

“And if your fear was a living, breathing entity sitting opposite beside you right now, how would you combat it? Think about the cognitive challenging we discussed.”

Keeping her eyes shut, Solana travels back to that session, utilizing the skills and tips and knowledge she’s learned since her admission.

She takes an ‘efficient breath’, as Gail calls them. “I’d tell my fear that….that you don’t get to control me anymore.”

Gail smiles softly, gently encouraging the young woman to continue. “What else?”

Silent tears continue to fall, but Solana’s voice remains firm and unwavering. “And that….that Roman cares about me and just wants me to be okay and….and get better.”

Gail hasn’t felt so proud and pleased with a client’s response to the empty chair exercise in quite a while. “Exactly.” She sits back in her own chair, jotting down some notes. “Can I ask what you’re feeling right now?”

Solana finally opens her eyes and wipes at her eyes, scoffing quietly. “A…a little better, actually.” She motions to her chest. “It doesn’t….it doesn’t feel as heavy.”

“Good.” Gail makes note of this and starts to ask a follow up processing question when Solana’s soft voice beats her to it.

“Can…..can I talk about something with you?”

Gail’s grin is warm and welcoming as she offers genuine assurance. “Solana, there’s nothing we can’t discuss here.” She’s pleased to see Solana’s smile grow at this reassurance. “What would you like to talk about?”

Feeling on the spot all of a sudden, despite being the one who initiated the conversation, Solana does her best to manage and push through her anxiety. “I—I’ve been….I’ve been having dreams since I got here.”

Gail is mindful of her expression as she asks in a soft voice, “dreams or…..”

Sensing what she’s asking, Solana quickly shakes her head. “No. Not those. Not nightmares. They….they really are dreams. Good dreams, I—I think.”

Studying her, Gail assesses. “You seem unsure.”

Deciding to bite the bullet, Solana shares in a low voice, “they’re dreams of me in the future…..as….as a mother.”

Gail nods. “I see.” She makes note of one of Solana’s nonverbals. “You’re smiling right now.”

Sniffling, Solana continues to share and exhibit so much vulnerability, most of which is solely because of how safe and non-judged Gail has made her feel. “In the dreams, we have three kids. Twin girls and a baby boy.” She wipes at her nose and swallows deeply. “I—I want to be a mom someday, but I don’t….I don’t want to be a bad mom.”

If these dreams have shown her anything, it’s that she wants more than anything to be a positive influence in her future child, or children's, lives. She doesn’t want to cause them even a fraction of the parental trauma she’s experienced.

And deep down, Solana knows that she’s absolutely nothing like her father.

But, she knows she’s very much been deeply impacted by her fathers’ abuse. By all of her trauma. And the last thing she wants is for any of that to negatively influence her children.

“Solana, what makes you think you could ever be a bad mother?” She shrugs, shutting down a bit. Gail sighs lowly, offering words of affirmation and support. “You are not a bad person. You are not a broken person. Not a damaged person. Just a person who’s been dealt some not so great cards, but you’re here, working on these things. Working on becoming a healthier version of yourself.” Gail chuckles, pointing out, “that doesn’t sound like a bad future mother to me.”

Really sitting on the words of encouragement and doing her best to not let the self-doubt creep in, Solana asks in a voice barely above a whisper, “do you….do you really think I could be a good mother?”

Gail’s response is almost immediate, not a thought to be had as she answers honestly, “Solana, I think you could be a damn good mother.”

Solana laughs, emotion seeping in as she nods, utterly grateful for such kind words. “Thank….thank you. That….that means a lot to me.”

“Of course.” Gail would like to process this more, maybe get into some additional trauma work, but there’s another important thing on her agenda for this session. “Solana, as you know, your hold will be up exactly one week from now, meaning you’ll be officially discharged and allowed to return home.”

Solana eyes lighten up at that, an expected reaction as Gail gently slides into a deeper conversation pertaining to her release. “But, there’s something I would like to speak to you about.”

________

Roman doesn’t think twice as he walks into the room that’s suspiciously quiet to be located in a hospital, decorated just as one would expect a therapist’s office to look. He only briefly takes a look around before plopping his big body down on the sofa.

He didn’t even pay any attention to the fact that Gail was attempting to extend an olive branch, offering a handshake that he so rudely ignored, clearly ready to get this over with.

She keeps her togetherness, offering a verbal introduction. “Thank you for com—”

“This has to do with Solana, right?”

Gail makes a face, pressing her lips together as she chuckles quietly. “Of course.”

“Then get to it.” Roman is quick with the demands, asking, “how is she doing?”

Gail offers a tight smile. “I’m Gail Kim, the therapist on staff who’s been handling Solana’s individual therapy sessions.”

“Did I ask you who you were?” His stare is cold and uninterested. “I asked you how she’s doing.”

Sighing, Gail refers to the tablet on her lap, opening up the notes she’s happy that she prepared ahead of time. This is going exactly as she predicted it would. “Your wife is no longer endorsing suicidal ideation which means she’s denying any thoughts and plans to take her life, which is significant progress considering it’s only been a week—”

There’s a hint of hopefulness in both his expression and voice as he asks, “so, she’s ready to come home?”

Gail hesitates. “Not exactly.”

The previous hopefulness melts into something cold and harsh. Roman is visibly and understandably irritated. “You just said she’s not suicidal anymore.”

“Yes, but it’s not that simple. Solana is….she’s an interesting case. Her trauma history is significant. Though she seems to be on the way to stabilization, there’s still a lot of work that needs to be done. She needs continued professional help.”

“Isn’t that why she’s here with you?” His tone is cruel and condescending. “If you’re too fucking incompetent to help her, let me take her home, so I can.”

Gail bites the inside of her cheek. If this was anyone else, she would set them straight on the importance of mutual respect. But, this isn’t just anyone. This is Roman Reigns, and she’s well aware of the fact that one wrong statement or sign of disrespect could very well end her life, so she does her best to remain calm and professional. And she tries an alternative approach.

“You know, one of the exercises she did in an individual session asks about what safe spaces she has, sources of support and whatnot. And you know what she put down for almost every answer?” Gail gives a small, closed mouth smile. “You.” Well trained in reading nonverbals, she picks up on the brief giveaway sign of emotion that flashes in Roman’s eyes at this. “She put down that you are her number one reason for wanting to live.”

There’s a good minute of silence before Roman asks in an uncharacteristically low voice. “So why did she do it?”

Gail's smile shifts into a solemn frown. “I’ll leave that discussion to the two of you. She’s expressed wanting to talk with you about that directly.”

“I’m asking you.”

Gail leans back in her chair and goes a different route. “It’s okay to be upset with her. To be angry at her. To be angry at and blame yourself.” Gail catches just a glimpse of surprise in his eyes at the last part. “To actually feel your feelings.”

Roman, however, is uninterested in any of this. Offended even. “Why the hell would I be angry at her?”

“Why wouldn’t you be? She tried to leave you. That’s essentially what suicide is. Escapism. It provides the patient with the peace they’re looking for but leaves the loved ones left behind with a world of questions and emotions.” She explains, mindful of her tone and voice. “Two truths can exist in the same universe. You can be happy she wasn’t successful and still angry at her for trying in the first place.”

Roman is quiet for a good two minutes, Gail wondering if she should transition to another topic when he breaks said silence in that same low voice.

“I don’t understand why she didn’t call me. I told her to tell me if…..if those thoughts ever returned.”

“But she didn’t…..” Gail’s voice softens as she adds, almost empathetically. “I think you’ll find talking with her will give you some of the answers you’re looking for. But, they truly should come from her.”

Roman won’t push. He wants to, but won’t. If this is something Solana wants to discuss with him herself, he’ll respect that. So long as it’s not triggering to her, which it seems, surprisingly, it’s not.

Gail clears her throat and transitions to the next section. “Dr. Stratus started her on a medication regimen of Sertraline, 50mg and Wellbutrin, 100mg, once a day in the morning as well as Hydroxyzine, PRN, which means as needed. The Sertraline and Wellbutrin are antidepressants, and Hydroxyzine can be taken when she starts to feel overwhelmed or triggered. So far, she’s responding well, though it typically takes 4 to 6 weeks for patients to truly notice the full benefits.”

Roman nods, as Gina or whatever her name is, continues to explain what’s otherwise obvious.

“We’ve been administering her medication and given how she attempted to take her life, Dr. Stratus and I strongly advise that you or someone else take over that administration upon her discharge—”

“Do you honestly think I’m stupid enough to allow her to have unmonitored access to pills again?” Roman doesn’t even try, not that he was before, to hide his frustration and irritation. She’s acting like he’s stupid. His degrees may be in business, but one doesn’t need to have a degree in behavioral health to know thatyou don’t give a formerly suicidal person free access to the same method they used to take their life.

Gail, however, decides to not feed into it. “You know, anger is sometimes just anger. Just people mad as hell. But sometimes….sometimes it’s what we call a blanket emotion, meaning there are other feelings hiding beneath it, being presented as anger.”

Roma sits forward. “Just what the hell are you trying to insinuate?”

“Nothing at all, Mr. Reigns.” A small smile falls on her face, and that only pisses him off even more. Is this bitch trying to patronize him or something? “But, you should know that we offer support for spouses and loved ones like yourself who are supporting—”

“The only thing I need for you to do is to help my wife, so I can get her the hell out of this place and home where she belongs.”

Gail takes a deep breath.

It was worth a try.

“I want to show you something.” She stands up from her chair, moving to her desk as she pulls out a key to unlock the drawer. “Solana signed a full release authorizing us to share all details regarding her care with you. But, there are some things she’s explicitly expressed you not being okay with knowing and seeing. This is not one of them. And I think you would find it interesting….”

If not for the fact that the therapist already made it clear that safety concerns and suicidality are exceptions to confidentiality, Roman would be concerned, wondering just what exactly Solana doesn’t want him to know.

But something tells him she’s perhaps opened up in therapy about specifics regarding her trauma more than she has with him, and if that’s the case, his only hope is that this woman knows what she’s doing and doesn’t trigger Solana further.

She walks back over, handing him a set of sheets. Roman takes them, immediately noticing the handwriting.

Solana’s handwriting.

He gets to reading the bolded question that each has answers of varying length.

Who is your safe person? What makes this person safe?

My husband. He’s the first man in my life to not hurt me. The first man I’ve ever trusted.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you trust this person with 1 being none and 10 being absolute trust?

How does this person make you feel safe?

He’s patient with me and listens to me and makes me feel beautiful.

How does this person serve as a member of your support system?

He listens to me and always checks on me.

How long have you experienced thoughts/urges/practices of self-harming behavior including suicidal ideation and/or attempts?

The first time I felt like I didn't want to be alive anymore was when I was ten. I woke up from my coma and realized my mother was dead. I just wanted to be with her. But it’s my brother constantly telling me I should kill myself after my mom’s murder that made me seriously think about doing it.

He would tell me that it should have been me who died, and I should just kill myself because no one wanted me.

And I started to believe him.

It’s been on and off since then.

Has there been a point in time where you have not had these thoughts/urges?

Yes. For the past four months.

If you answered yes to the previous question, what caused or contributed to the cessation of these thoughts/urges?

I met my husband. I had real friends for the first time. I found myself having a real family for the first time in a long time.

I was happy.

Prior to this gap, when was the last time you experienced any of these thoughts? What triggered them?

The day of my wedding. This was before I got to know my husband. I was scared he was going to beat me like my dad and brother.

What happened to re-trigger you? If uncomfortable sharing, list the emotions you felt during this episode.

Sadness. Anger. Confusion.

Do you remember what thoughts you were experiencing before the suicidal and self-harming ideation returned? What were they?

I couldn’t stop thinking about my rape and my mother’s murder. It was like I was reliving them over and over again, and I couldn’t get the memories and flashbacks to stop. It felt like all my progress was reversed, and I’d have to start over, and I didn’t want to put my husband and family through that, as they’re the reason I even started to heal.

I just didn’t want to be in pain anymore, and I thought everyone would be happier if I was dead. I didn’t want to be a burden to my husband.

Looking back and reflecting on your thoughts, have they changed? And if so, how?

I don’t want to die. I still don’t feel as good as I was feeling before I found out the truth, but I’m not thinking or wanting to kill myself anymore. I still have a lot of things I want to do. I’m not ready to be done here. Just want to get better.

Do you wish you would have done something different? What could you have done differently?

Yes.

Called my husband.

Can you identify at least one reason your life is worth living?

Roman

Roman has oscillated through so many different emotions reading through this worksheet from beginning to end. Anger seems like the dominant emotion, his jaw clenching as he learns how close to the paternal tree Solana’s bitch brother remained..

He’s not much better than Xavier.

If not worse.

And Roman is determined to find even more, additional ways to make that fucker suffer the way he made Solana suffer for so many years.

He’s also livid and something else unknown that on a day that should have been special for her, she was considering taking her own life.

And he hates himself for putting her in that position in the first place. He was the one who wanted to speed everything up, not even considering how traumatic that process could have been for her.

But he especially doesn’t know how to feel reading just how highly Solana views and feels about him. She hasn’t been very quiet regarding how much she cares about him, but reading her words, her writing, her honesty, it makes him aware of just how much she cares.

“You mean a lot to her. And her healing and progress moving forward will require your support.” Gail cuts in, voice calm and almost soothing. “One of the things I ask clients all the time is who their support system is and is there anything else they need from this person or persons….she couldn’t tell me a single thing she needs from you that you don’t already give her.” Roman says nothing, not even offering a nonverbal gesture or movement for her to analyze. Thus, Gail continues, reviewing her notes of topics she wanted to touch on with him prior to his seeing Solana in a few hours. “Now, I will say, Solana does exhibit strong codependent tendencies. Specifically with you. She’s extremely attached to you, and while that should probably be addressed at some point, her stabilization is the priority.”

Roman doesn’t pay much, or any, mind to that last part. He doesn’t care what this woman says. Whatever Solana needs, she’ll get.

Especially if what she wants is him.

Cause he wants her just as much.

________

Roman doesn’t get nervous.

Ever.

But, he’s certain what he’s feeling in his fucking stomach is some level of nerves.

And he hates that shit.

Cause why the fuck is he at his grown age feeling anxious about seeing his wife? Perhaps it’s the fact that it’ll be the first time in a week that he’s actually laid eyes on her, seeing her not lying unconscious in a hospital bed. That he’ll be able to have her big brown eyes focused on him. Hear the sound of her voice, so soft and light.

He shuts his eyes.

Fucking nerves.

He decides to pull out his phone as a distraction while security escorts her to him in the visitors section, remembering a text from Paul that he should probably respond to. Not that he wants to, but it’s better standing here feeling fucking stupid and—

“Roman…”

He wasn’t sure just sure how he would respond or react or even feel seeing her for the first time in a week, but Solana is barely able to get his name out of his mouth when Roman snaps his head up from the phone in his hand to the direction of which the voice came.

It happens a bit too fast for him to even process. The rise and easy falter of her smile, the gloss of her eyes, the tiny scoff of disbelief that leaves her mouth before she’s running toward him. Roman wastes not a single fucking second to pick her up the minute she throws her body against him. And just like that, almost every trace of irritation, of vexation, of anger melts away.

Roman’s eyes shut as he holds her close against him, noticing how tightly she’s holding him back.

Her voice cracks followed by a sniffle as she murmurs against his shoulder. “I’ve missed you….”

For a brief second, he’s angry again. Angry because has she been asking for him? And if so, why was he not informed? Stratus has been texting him frequent general updates. That she’s been consistently opening up in individual therapy, not as open in group sessions, often writes and draws during their designated free time, etc.

But nothing about her asking for him.

He makes a mental note to ask Stratus about that shit, but not now. Now, his focus is entirely focused on the woman in his arms.

“I missed you too.” Saying he missed her feels like an understatement. Roman has been fucking miserable without her around, but what good would it serve her to share as such? So, he keeps it simple but still accurate.

He ignores the small part of him that dislikes when she finally pulls away, but that dissatisfaction is easily shoved to the side when he sees her eyes watering. “I’m so sorry. I—I didn't mean. I just—”

Roman’s focus is now solely honed in on stopping her from crying. He can’t see her upset. Not after what happened. He moves his hands to her face, gently cupping her cheeks and brushing away her tears. “Let’s talk, okay?”

She nods, stepping back, forcing his hands to drop but easily sliding her hand into one of his as she leads them in the direction from where she came. Roman won’t lie. He’s not paying attention to much in passing. Just her. It’s like there’s a blurred lens on them, distorting everything around them except his wife.

And he has zero issues with this.

He has zero issues until they’re walking past a group of three women who seem to notice that Solana is crying and stop her, the one who almost looks like she could be Hispanic asks Solana, “are you alright?”

Who the fuck is this? Roman would most definitely ask as such as well as tell her to stay out of their damn business if not for the fact that Solana answers almost reassuringly.

“Yes, of course.”

To make matters worse, this irritating ass stranger has the audacity to almost send a suspicious damn near glare his way. Just who the fuck does she think she is?

The woman on her right suddenly asks, her quiet voice strangely reminding him of Solana. Right off the bat, he can see they have similar demeanors. “You’re still joining us for breakfast, right?”

Solana answers right away, shaking her head. “Of course.”

Joining for breakfast? What the fuck is this? A psychiatric ward or summer camp?

The women all seem to give Solana that ‘call us if you need anything’ nod before finally leaving him alone with his wife. Roman has to keep his sigh to himself.

Only Solana would make ‘friends’ at a damn hospital.

She finally leads him into what he would guess is her ‘room.’ He’s instantly not impressed and annoyed because he directly instructed Stratus to make sure she had the best this place has to offer.

This clearly ain’t it. He adds it to his list of complaints to bring up to the psychiatrist. He’s also annoyed by the ‘sheet’ that serves at the door, irritated that they won’t have total privacy. But, he understands. It’s a psychiatric ward. Not the Four Seasons.

Roman allows Solana to guide him over to her bed where she motions for him to sit down. He does as such, partially surprised when she climbs onto his lap, legs on either side. He doesn’t protest though, simply holds her by his hips as he shifts so that his back against the wall.

Solana, however, keeps her head down, her hands scrunching the bottom of his shirt as she seems to force out, “I don’t want to talk about this—”

That’s an easy thing, Roman quickly moving to remind her of her autonomy. “Then don’t—”

She cuts him off. “But, I need to.” She finally lifts her gaze, and my God, he’s missed staring into those pretty eyes, seeing her pretty face. “I can’t—I won’t avoid it.” She takes a deep breath, asking, “what do you want to know?”

He’s partially surprised by how direct she’s being, but in his defense, the last time he spoke to her directly, she was in such a different place. A much darker place.

That doesn’t seem to be the case anymore, but he knows looks can be deceiving, so he remains cautious. His voice is surprisingly gentle, as he answers, “I think you already know the answer to that, Sol.”

Her eyes shut again, and he can’t tell if it’s because of his use of his nickname for her or the emotionality of it all.

Both, probably.

She brings her gaze back on him, and he hates seeing the emotion building back up. Logically, he knows that there’s no way to have this kind of conversation and emotion not be present. Doesn’t mean he has to like it though. “I just….I couldn’t think straight that night, Roman. I just kept reliving every bad thing that’s happened to me but now with the knowledge that it was my own father that was responsible. And I just….I couldn't handle it.”

This is the part he can barely handle. The knowing of the role, a large role, he played in what landed her here. He feels like shit about it and prepares to take ownership when she continues.

“And I thought….I felt like….I felt like all the progress I had made was now gone and that I’d have to start over, and I just—-I couldn’t fathom going through all that again.” She swallows, tears starting to fall. “I felt like I would just be a burden to you and that….it would just be easier for you if I was dead.”

Gutted. Reading it was one thing, but hearing it is an entirely different experience. To know this is truly how she felt, the thought process that led to her making the decision she made. The most likely reason she didn’t call him.

Because she thought she was a burden.

It kills him.

She drops her head, and he moves his hands back to her face. “Solana, look at me.” When she continues to keep her head down, he repeats himself, voice still low and gentle. “Look at me.” She seems to hesitate but follows through, Roman hating how devastated she looks. “Nothing about my life would be easier without you in it. You are never a burden to me. You never have been, and you never will be. I want to help you. Listen to you. Whatever it is you need, I’ll do. I just need you to tell me.” This time, he’s the one swallowing back unfamiliar and uncomfortable emotions. “I just need you to not leave me, alright?” She seems slightly taken back by his honesty and vulnerability. Truthfully, so is he. It was one thing to be so honest with her while she was unconscious, but it’s another when she sits before him, aware and conscious and hanging onto every word. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about your father. I should have—”

“No. Please—please don’t.” She shakes her head, interrupting him with that same small voice. “I’m glad you didn’t.” The ‘shocked’ ball is back in his court as she explains, “I don’t….I don’t think I would have ever wanted to know the truth. It’s….it’s been too hard to have to deal with that.”

Clearly. He can’t even begin to imagine what that’s like for her. To be stuck with the knowledge that her own flesh and blood could be so cruel, so hateful, so evil as to do what Xavier has done to his own daughter.

“The therapy has….it’s helped.” He believes it. Roman has noticed the sheets of paper that have positive affirmations and what he would guess are coping skills taped to the wall opposite her bed. She cracks a small, sad smile. “It’s….it’s been good for me.”

He believes that, too. He can see that. There’s a stark difference in her appearance, even with her being emotional as she is with the conversation at hand. She doesn’t look as fractured as the last time he saw her.

She looks stronger. Happier, even. It makes his chest swell with yet another unfamiliar sentiment.

Love, perhaps?

Just thinking about it has Roman clearing his throat, needing to focus on something other than that right now. “Have they been treating you okay?” This has been pretty high up, if not the highest, thing on his priority list.

She nods, Roman noticing and grateful that her tears are starting to dry up. “Yes. I….how many Bloodline men do you have here?”

“Enough.” She doesn’t need to know the full extent of just how above and beyond he went to ensure no one on staff at this hospital could be questionable about their intentions towards her. “I’m always gonna look out for you, baby. Always.”

Her eyes shut, not from feeling overwhelmed but something else. Something that seems less heavy and more comforting.

Solana moves around on top of him, Roman somehow sensing what she’s trying to do, and he has zero hesitations.

He shifts his body, so he’s laying on her bed, his feet dangling off the edge of the bed, but it makes no difference to him as soon as she lays on top of him, her head cradled in his neck, her arms around him.’

“I’ve missed you.” Her arm laid against him, Roman reading to close his eyes when he catches onto something for the first time. He doesn’t know he missed it either, because it stands out. Roman gently takes her arm, turning it over.

On her inner forearm are a set of beautifully drawn butterflies of various sizes and colors, the largest being a dark blue color and the smaller one next to it, different shades of red and pinks. There are three much smaller butterflies under the two larger ones, two of them pink and the smallest also that same dark blue.

She looks up at him, offering a small smile. “It’s something they have us do in group therapy. They call it The Butterfly Project.” She shifts her body to show him her other forearm, revealing additional butterflies before she lays back down as she was. “You draw butterflies that represent the people in your life you care about and every time��you think of wanting to self-harm, you remember that you’re killing the butterflies. It’s like….like a reminder that people care about you.”

It’s an interesting concept, and judging by the emotion in her voice, a concept she resonates with deeply. Roman’s long index finger ghosts over the larger blue one as he asks, “who is this one for?”

Solana’s smile deepens. “You.” He’s grateful that she continues to explain so he doesn't have to think much about that sentiment very similar to love that comes up at that admission. “And this one,” she gestures to the pink and red one. “--is me. My future self.”

That doesn’t help the building emotion, so he again goes for distraction, motioning to the remaining three, asking, “and those?”

She swallows, something flashing in her eyes he can’t identify, answering gently, “I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”

Her answer confuses him. He doesn’t know what to make of it, but he doesn’t want to push her either.

“How is Dulce?” She asks suddenly, the sadness in her voice returning.

Roman won’t tell her the way her puppy sometimes sits by the front door around the time she usually gets home from work or the way she whimpers at night every so often, clearly missing her owner. He’ll spare her that, offering only a morsel of the truth.

“The usual. Sleeping most of the day. You can tell she misses you.”

Solana frowns. “I miss her too.” She licks her lips, asking almost nervously, “how are Bay—”

Roman is quick to shut that down, a hint of harshness in his voice. “I don’t want to talk about them.”

Truth be told, he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to look or view them the same ever again. It may be a bit irrational and unfair, but it’s how he feels. And truthfully speaking, he’s got ten million other things on his mind and in his heart he’s trying to sort through.

“Roman…..” Solana sits up a bit, and he’s taken back for a second by how fucking beautiful she is. Even with the sadness in her eyes. “It wasn’t their fa—”

“Not now, Sol.” His tone takes on a gentler tone as he adds on, for good measure, “please. I just want to enjoy you.”

He knows she’ll bring it up again. She cares too much about the two women who Roman will never trust her with again to just let it go permanently. “Okay.” She lays herself back down on top of him, and Roman kisses the top of her head.

“How are you?”

He’s not quite sure why her question surprises him. But, the answer is an automatic, “fine.”

He’s far from fine, but she doesn't need to know that.

Again, Solana sits up, that frown almost deepening. “Are you sleeping?” She reaches over and caresses his beard. “You look tired. H–have you been taking your medicine?”

Roman is truly dumbfounded. She is the one who is currently a legally mandated patient in a psychiatric ward because she was actively suicidal only a week ago, and yet, she’s laying here worried about him.

Roman has to push back that love feeling that’s returning.

“I keep telling you not to worry about me,” he reminds, once again wanting and almost needing to stress to her that worrying about him should be the last thing on her plate.. “I just want you to focus on yourself.”

Her retort surprises him, bold and almost uncharacteristic of her. “And I keep telling you that I’m always going to worry about you.”

Roman chuckles, commenting, “you’re becoming more outspoken….”

She gives him a small smile. “I told you the therapy has been helping.”

Roman scoffs. She’s right. Maybe that Gemma woman does know what she’s doing.

“Do you need anything?”

Solana says nothing, just lays back down against him, her hand moving over his chest, resting on his heart. “Just you.” She must glance at the clock on the wall as she comments, “we only have 40 minutes left….”

He knows she’s referring to the one hour time block allotted for visitors. Something he absolutely couldn't give two shits about. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.“ He’d stay the whole night if that was what she wanted.

“Roman….” It’s funny how he already knows what she’s going to say. “The rules—”

His interruption is sharp, but it’s not aimed towards her. And she knows that. “I don’t give a fuck about rules when it comes to you.” She sighs into his chest, offering no protest, saying nothing else.

Conversation is intermittent over the next two or so hours, Solana eventually falling asleep on top of him. He doesn’t mind. As much as he enjoys talking to her, having her body on top of his is an easy, acceptable alternative.

He’s missed this. Missed being with and around her. Roman is just now realizing just how much he benefits from having her around. He’s been a complete nightmare for everyone around him outside of Dulce, even more temperamental than his usual default setting.

But the minute he laid eyes on her, saw her innocent smile, had her in his arms, everything suddenly felt so better.

That’s what she does for him. What she is for him.

Medicine.

An antidote. Something he never knew he was missing until he met her. It seems like it was almost impossible for him to not fall in love with her.

Love….

Thinking about it again brings a frown to his handsome face, forcing him to face a reality that’s so easy to escape when he’s with her.

Roman may love Solana, but….he can never act on it. Not really. Can never tell her he loves her. That makes it official. That confirms that he finally has something his enemies can use against him, a distraction, a weakness.

Loving her openly would make him vulnerable, would put her at risk, and he couldn’t do that. Not just for himself but most definitely not to her.

To be with her like this, open and vulnerable, behind closed doors is one thing. It’s an entirely different ballpark though to make that visible and public, even with just telling her.

Feeling her stir against him, Roman kisses the top of her head, tugging her closer.

He won’t deny that he loves her.

But, he can’t act on it either.

He’s just going to have to find someway to push that down, tuck it away for safekeeping.

It’s just better that way.

________

Roman stays for about two hours, Solana waking up and reluctantly expressing her okayness with him leaving. It’s not what she wants, definitely not what he wants, but it’s what’s necessary.

If even for the fact that Dulce can’t be left alone for too long.

Solana holds onto his arm as she walks him out, Bautista not too far behind to escort her back to her room.

But, it’s when he turns to tell her bye, Roman about to ask her when she wants him to come see her again (fuck visting days), she surprises him by reaching behind her back and pulling out a sealed envelope.

Brows furrowed, Roman is curious just how the hell he missed that when she presses it against his chest. “Promise me you won’t read it until you get home.”

Now he’s extremely confused. It’s been a while since Solana has written to thim. They’ve progressed way past that, and it does concern him a bit that she didn’t just talk to him about whatever lies between the lines of this letter.

But, he also knows she’s been working hard in therapy and even in being able to open up to him about what happened that night had to have been a lot for her, so he won’t push it and will respect it.

Accepting the letter, he simply says, “okay.”

She offers a close mouthed smile, a sign of appreciation and moves to hug him once more, mumbling something in Spanish against his chest that he can’t make out. When she pulls back, he doesn’t hesitate to cup her cheek, reiterating, “you need anything, you let me know, alright?” They’d already briefly discussed how she had picked up on the fact that he had his men stationed strategically all over this place, and any of them were able to get a message to him.

She nods, repeating to him, “okay.” Solana tugs on his shirt and leans up to kiss his cheek, murmuring against his ear, “bye, Roman.”

It seems saying goodbye is difficult for her just as much as it is for him, Roman unable to reciprocate it, only letting his gaze follow her retreating form until Bautista gives him a nod and closes the door behind them.

He stands there for a good minute or two before actually leaving.

Fuck. Leaving her seems to be getting harder and harder.

Roman is barely in the SUV, door not even shut when his long fingers are moving with all the determination to open up the envelope. He unfolds the piece of paper, unsurprised to find her neat handwriting.

Roman,

I need to ask you to do something for me, but I need you to please hear me out before you settle on an answer. And please know I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I didn’t believe it’s something I really need.

I’m so sorry for putting you through this. I never want to cause you any stress or create any problems for you.

I wasn’t in a good place, and this experience has made me realize there’s still a lot of parts of me that still need to heal. I still have a lot to work through.

That’s why I’m asking.

Gail mentioned a treatment facility she runs about an hour away. It’s a 6 week program for women coming out of the hospital like I will be.

Roman, I think I should go.

I don’t think I should come home just yet.

I don’t feel ready. I’m not having those thoughts or urges anymore, but there’s still things I think I need to work through. I don’t ever want to put you through something like this again. I don’t ever want to end up back here again, but the only way I can do that is by making sure I’m good before I leave.

And I don’t know if another week can do that.

I miss you. So much. It’s been hard being away from you and Dulce and everyone else. But, I feel like I have to do this. I need to do this.

For us.

But mostly for me.

I want to get better.

Please let me.

Te quiero mucho,

Solana

BTW, I’m saying ‘I love you very much’ in Spanish.

Because I do.

I love you, Ro.

And I don’t need you to say it back or feel the same. With what you’ve been through, I’d never expect or ask that of you.

I just need you. Your continued support. That’s all. That’s enough.

With all my love,

Solana

________

“I’m so sick of your bloody fuckin’ shit, Seth! It’s the same fuckin’ thing over and over again, and I’m done!”

The cadence, melody, and even tone of his wife’s rant serves as the perfect resources for Seth who is lazily sprawled out across their sofa, beer in one hand, the other hand moving as if conducting an orchestra.

And he is.

Because this has become a song and dance with his fiery tempered, Irish wife.

Seconds later, she’s practically stomping in the living room, their daughter in hand who is most definitely old enough to remember this little spat. He cackles to himself. How unfortunate.

However, Becky’s enraged gaze is focused on him, disgust plastered all over. “Were you even listenin’ to me?”

He makes a sound, unbothered eyes falling on her, that infamous smile growing. “Of course, dear.”

Becky, however, knows better. Has been with this man long enough to know better. And she’s done. “Ya know, I thought you were getting better, yeah? But then that bloke Breaker comes over here looking for you, and I—” Becky cuts herself off, refusing to start yelling with her daughter in her arms. Her accent is even thicker, as she shares while adjusting the bag on her other shoulder, “I’m gonna go stay with Charlotte til’ I can figure out just what I’m gonna do.”

What she’s not saying is that she’ll stay with her closest American friend until she can find the funds and resources to move back home.

She’s just done.

Seth, however, seems unconcerned by the fact that she’s leaving with their kid. “Okay, dear.” He snorts, falling into that all too familiar maniacal laugh. The one that typically accompanies the reckless and dangerous behavior that has her packed and ready to go. It was one thing when it was just the two of them, but with a child now, Becky has a responsibility to keep her daughter safe.

And there is nothing safe about her husband rekindling ties with the Nightmare Factory.

Not wanting him to see the pending tears, Becky kisses her daughter’s cheek and heads for the door, not allowing herself to hesitate as she rips it open only for her jaw to drop.

She scoffs. Unbelievable. With even more support for her decision to leave, Becky looks over her shoulder at her husband who climbs to his feet. “First the Nightmare Factory, and now the fuckin’ Bloodline?” She shakes her head. “Yeah, you dig your own fuckin’ grave, Seth.”

And with that, she moves past the figures, determined to not look back this time.

Meanwhile, a massive smile grows on Seth’s unshaven face, delight dancing in his dark eyes.

This is certainly proving to be such an eventful day.

He practically stumbles over but manages to stand firm as he takes a swig of his beer, burping loudly and then asking with all of the excitement, evil smile on his face.

“How can I help you?”

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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catssluvr · 2 days

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𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏, spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader (870 words)

in which you convince spencer to dance with you in the rain

warnings: kissing, fluff :)

based on this request by my sweet anon 🪼 <3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You walk down the leaf covered streets, one hand holding Spencer's while the other is buried deep inside your jacket's pocket. It's not unbearably cold, but enough to prickle your bare hands. The crunch of the leaves under your feet and the warmth of his hand is enough to make you content.

Spencer's rambling on about the history book he finished recently, making sure to tell you every little fact he didn't know until reading it.

This isn't unusual, you take the tub together everyday and he insists on walking you home from there. Even though you're pretty sure he has to walk for two more blocks than he usually would.

Your attention feels like it's divided between listening to him intently and admiring the way he scrunches his nose when he's trying to remember the exact words on the book while quoting them.

"You know, with technology and basic tools, the egyptians built constructions that are more than three hundred feet tall. The biggest question is how they managed to lift the materials up, what's believed is that they used ramps." He occasionally rubs his thumb against the back of your hand as he speaks, stealing glances at you to make sure you're still listening.

"Yeah? I didn't know that." You answer with a small smile.

He pauses as he's about to go to back to talking before saying, "I'm not boring you out, am i?"

"No, never." You reassure with a gentle squeeze to his hand.

You don't blame him for feeling nervous, this is all new to you too, dating him. You're just glad it's him.

"Are you sure? Because you don't have to-" You don't let him finish as you lean to kiss the corner of his mouth. His cheeks turn a dark shade of red and his lips turn upwards into a shy smile.

"I'm sure. Promise."

Before either of you can say anything else, you feel a drop of water hitting your cheek. It's only now you realize how dark the sky is, water pouring down more and more which each passing moment.

"We should hurry." Spencer grips your hand, pulling you to walk at a fast pace.

Your house is still a few streets away and you can already feel the water making it's way through your pants. Truth is you don't think that there's any way you're going to get to your house without getting completely soaked, not even if you actually run.

That's when the idea hits you. You drop your hand from his, waiting for him to turn around with a confused face before saying, "Dance with me?"

"What?" He asks, brows furrowed in confusion but a smile threatening to spill from his lips at any second.

"We're not gonna get home dry anyway." You give him your best pleading eyes, grabbing at the sleeve of his coat to persuade him even quicker.

"We'll end up catching a cold, angel." You know he's probably right, but the idea of dancing with him in the rain is way too tempting to care about getting sick.

"C'mon, Spence. Live a little." You tease with a warm smile, it's quite obvious he's going to give in. "Please?" And that's all it takes for it to be impossible for him to reject your request.

"Yeah, alright." Spencer rolls his eyes to feign annoyance, though his eyes tell you the opposite.

With a triumphal grin, you pull him to the middle of the empty sidewalk. Your arms find place around his shoulder and you take a moment to appreciate the sight of him with wet hair. You don't think you've ever seen him like this before but it certainly is one look that you like seeing him in.

His hands move to rest on your waist, encouraging you to sway gently. He rubs your hip with his thumb over your jacket ever so tentatively, gazing at you so softly you feel like you might melt into a puddle.

It's like you're not even bothered by dancing to no music, the sound of the rain pouring and your breathing against his cheek being enough of a melody to him. He suddenly regrets thinking it was a bad idea.

Spencer pulls you flush against him, barely any space between both of your mouths. "Is this okay?" He asks in almost a whisper.

You barely have time to nod before he's smashing his lips against yours in a feverish kiss. Your fingers tangle themselves in the wet hair at the nape of his neck, nose nudging his gently as you return it just as eagerly.

Your hands fall to his chest after a moment as he moves to cup your face, the kiss becoming soft but just as addicting.

You're not sure how long you stay like that, you don't care. It feels like doing this forever would be a quite easy task.

"We should probably go." You pull away breathlessly, giggling at the way his lips follow yours and your comment almost falls into deaf ears.

"Live a little." He quotes what you had said earlier, all the shyness from earlier disappeared as he smiles teasingly.

You don't have time to answer again as he kisses you one more time.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

love you,

cat 🤍

#spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #🪼

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buddie911abc · 2 days

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Here I go again.

Buck asks Eddie if his son is the real reason he doesn't date. Eddie responds with, "That and, they weren't my type."

This has been a flag for everyone who reads the subtext, but let's take a moment to look at the last GIF.

Eddie says they weren't his type. Buck turns around to look at them and probably assesses what makes them, 'not' Eddie's type because the girls were all subjectively pretty. There were also a variety of types of women there.

But look closely at the GIF. Eddie said they weren't his type. While Buck is glancing back, Eddie gives Buck a quick look that really screams, "You are it. You are the type." When I noticed this from the GIF edit, I thought it might be the creator slowing it down, but nope. If I look at the episode, it is the same or nearly the same. This is early season two, and I have always thought, in the early episodes, there was no intent to pair Eddie with Buck as anything but a friend. However, this scene makes me wonder at what point Tim M or whoever was writing changed their minds about adding in a subtextual narrative.

I find it very difficult to see this scene as a heteronormative exchange. In fact, it even feels like Eddie is pushing back a little to test where Buck stands. Buck as a character who lacks self-awareness gives a mixed signal answer. (which tracks with his character at this point and matches his coming-out arc.) **edited to clarify** Buck's mixed signal response to Eddie saying they aren't my type is, "Not mine either, at least not anymore."**

A few seconds later, Buck says Eddie has a weak excuse. My lovely and wonderfully sassy Eddie says, "You live in your invisible girlfriend's house, and you're telling me about weak excuses." He essentially points at Buck's closet door, but of course, this is something that Buck couldn't see or pick up on at the time. These moments are small in the grand scheme of the show as a whole so I'm afraid it will be forgotten. It would be nice to have some sort of throwback acknowledgment that this scene hasn't been retconned.

To backtrack a little bit here, I would also like to point out something else about the early timing or the writing of these characters as potentially queer. They are outside. (True I don't understand the ins and outs of filmmaking so there may very well be a reason for this.) But the shot itself is making them walk close together. Not just close, their shoulders are literally bumping against each other, hitting and knocking at each other in a way that might appear "unintentionally" intimate--until you remember they are outside. It seems to me like there are dozens of ways to shoot this thing that don't require them to be so casually physical with each other. For the scene to be shot like this and then consider the canon conversation that took place, it feels quite intentional that the writers wanted viewers to look closely for something else.

Whenever certain people call Buddie shippers delusional, I think about this. Subtextual language aside, the scenes are shot in such a way as to plant the idea of "More." There is attraction here. There is flirting.

Someone, somewhere wanted to tell this story from the start; and I'm not mad about it. I'm 100% here for it, and I'm ready for it to go down as the most epic love story I've ever watched or read about, but I also admit that I want it to be canon, not so I can throw it in anyone's face that their ship is wrong, but so I can prove I'm not some weirdo putting two hot guys together. I'm seeing a real romance being built. I want that validation as much as I want everyone under the LGBTQ umbrella to see representation for themselves on screen.

If you want to see the scene, go to about 3:05.

youtube

#911 on abc #buddie #ryan guzman #oliver stark #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #Youtube

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thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai · 3 days

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The beauty of accidental marriage proposals

Yuuri very likely didn't intend to propse to Viktor at the airport but his heart knew what it (and he) truly desired and twisted his words into a proposal—or rather something akin to a proposal that resulted in a spontaneous engagement.

Let's unpack this.

Yuuri returns from the Rostelecom Cup with his mind full of things that he wants to tell Viktor. While we don't learn the details, his inner monologue in the previous scene gives us a good idea of the things he's mulling over.

Yuuri has convinced himself that Viktor will abandon him after the Grand Prix Final. Thus, that competition is his final chance to win gold and he's determined to fulfil the promise he made in his speech in ep. 5 and win that medal. But even if doesn't win gold, there is one thing that he feels he needs to do after seeing skaters and skating fans react to Viktor becoming a coach at two consecutive competitions.

Regardless of how much Yuuri has profited from Viktor's support, he is very conscious about the fact that Viktor belongs to the ice. Or at least that is what his anxious brain has convinced him of. In this sense, giving up his own career so that Viktor can resume his own is an act of love and the only possible solution for them to stay together (in Yuuri's brain).

We never learn about the end of Yuuri's contemplation, but the subtext of the next scene implies that breaking up with Viktor is not an option. Or if it was an option, it was off the table once he was back in Viktor's arms.

Since Yuuri has anxiety, it's safe to assume that he has been overthinking his talk with Viktor over and over during the flight, going through all kinds of scenarios based on Viktor's imagined reaction. After hours on the plane, his brain must have been on the verge of exploding, casting poor Yuuri into a state of total overwhelm. If you have anxiety, you can possibly relate.

However, the moment that he spots Viktor, his mind goes blank and instinct takes over as he runs into Viktor's arms and instead of whatever speech he has prepared, he just blurts out the following line:

僕も考えてた。引退まで僕のこと—　お願いします！ "I've been thinking, too. Please take care of me until I retire!"

The English translation is a bit messed up here. In the original, Yuuri never uses the word coach in that line. "Please take care of me" is Japanese proposal language. The translators probably didn't recognise this nuance and sadly, the nuance is still lost in the Bluray version.

But that's why Viktor recognises the proposal in Yuuri's words.

However, based on the details given and the illogical ways anxious brains work, Yuuri intended to inform Viktor about his retirement plans and to voice his desire to make the most of the little time he thinks they have left. But that's not what his heart wants. And since episode 5 we know what that is:

初めて自分から繋ぎとめたいと思った人、それがヴィクトルです

A more accurate translation of that line is "The first person I want to tie myself to and never let go is Viktor" because 繋ぎとめたい means wanting to tie someone / something to you and never let it go (see this translation error masterpost).

Of course, Yuuri doesn't want his relationship with Viktor to end and no matter if his anxiety his skyrocketing in the face of the GPF looming ahead, that desire has taken root in his heart and brain. However, his anxiety stops him from proposing actually and turns his addition "until I retire" into a gentle prodding to find out whether he and Viktor are on the same page.

And of coruse, they are.

And it's all Yuuri has wished for. He's been anxious the whole time. Until Viktor recognises the proposal and response with a yes in the same fashion that Yuuri has asked.

To wrap all of this up:

Absence nurtures desire and in this case, the time apart has shown Yuuri and Viktor how much they want to be by each other's side. Because he missed Viktor so desperately, Yuuri's heart wins over his anxiety for once and enables him to tell Viktor his deepest desire. By recognising said desire, Viktor is able to accept the proposal and the two boys are now officially engaged. And that's yet another beautiful aspect about this show.

Unfortunately Viktor didn't really catch the part about the retirement, which will result in him thinking that Yuuri wants to break up when Yuuri announces his retirement plans in Barcelona. On the other hand, knowing that Viktor wants to stay by his side forever is a huge relief for Yuuri and allows him to enter the GPF without any emotional baggage.

Bonus: look at that cute tiny smile right between Viktor recognising the proposal and the second hug.

For further readings related to this please check out:

Japanese dating culture in YOI

Unwrapping "Let's end this"

On Yuuri's top-secret love life

If you enjoyed this meta you might like to check out my YOI canon works on AO3 or just support me by reblogging this post.

#yuri on ice #katsuki yuuri #viktor nikiforov #viktuuri #yoi #yoi meta #my yoi meta #reblog appreciated #anime #gay figure skating husbands #had to get this out of my system after I discussed that in the chapter notes of CYHMH

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zxoaii · 1 day

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Tease

fem! reader x Kento Nanami

Summary: Nanami gets even after a tease.

SMUT

WC: 1.7k

Find this and more on my wattpad!

Wattpad: _Bolter

[ Y/n ]

The crash of glass shattering on the floor startles me awake. My hands instinctively reach for the drawer next to the bed. As I fumble fearfully in the dark, a curse comes from the kitchen.

"Nanami?"

I get out of bed and make my way to the doorway. Nanami stands in the kitchen with his back to me. "I just broke something. Don't come over here barefoot."

I turn the kitchen light on for him. "I didn't want to wake you." He awkwardly moves to avoid looking at me. "You didn't want to wake me because you didn't want me to know you left the house or because you wanted to let me sleep?"

It's not a well-kept secret he's been sneaking out. Only it doesn't bother me as much as it should because I know he's working as a jujutsu sorcerer on the side.

"I thought you said you were done with all of that."

Nanami sighs and finally turns to face me. "Oh my god." My hands instinctively cup over my mouth. He's covered in blood.

"Not all of it's mine... And really it's just a superficial wound. It's just bleeding a lot."

He sweeps the glass up and dumps it into the trash. "It's not a big deal." I trail behind him as he makes his way to the bathroom.

I would ask but he wouldn't tell me. "Stop it. Sit down." Nanami stops digging through the cabinets and sits on the edge of the tub.

The first aid kit isn't even in the cabinets. It's in the closet. I grab it from the shelf and check the contents. Really, how am I supposed to treat him with this?

I set it down on the counter and wet a washcloth. Nanami can't hide the guilty look on his face. It would probably feel good to chew him out for this incredibly stupid thing he's doing.

When he went back to being a jujutsu sorcerer I thought he'd take it easy. After you almost die and decide to retire you usually learn a lesson. I guess he didn't.

The cloth cleans the blood off of his face. Did he really think he could hide this from me? I tilt his head to wipe blood out of his hair.

"It wasn't supposed to be this bad."

"You don't need to explain yourself."

It's hard not to be incredibly pissed at him. And at the same time, it's hard to not find him incredibly sexy sitting here while I fix him up.

I drop the cloth into the sink and open the first aid kit. He'd probably be better off with stitches. Instead, I grab rubbing alcohol, antibiotic cream, and some bandaids.

I search around the bathroom for our cotton pads to clean the wound with. "You're killing me in that dress." He should be used to a slip and some underwear by now.

I grab the box of cotton pads and bring them back over to him. "It might be easier if you sit on my lap." He isn't actually making moves right now, is he?

"Stop it."

I drench the pad in the alcohol and tilt his chin up. "I'm serious." His hand reaches up to grip my hip as I start cleaning the cut. He's pushing it.

"Hold still." I pass over the cut several times until it looks mostly clean. The bathroom light isn't great for looking at these things. "Sorry, you were just the closest thing to me." Nanami's hand falls off my hip.

I take the cream and apply it over the entire cut. There's more than he needs but hopefully, it will negate anything I missed while cleaning it out.

"Sweetheart, come on." Nanami runs his hands down my waist and hips while I find the largest bandaid we have. "Don't do this to me. Just give me something." The rip of the package replaces the response he wanted from me.

I place the bandaid on his forehead. My hands cup his face, caressing his cheeks gently. It's too hard to not give him anything.

He holds my ass as I lean in to kiss him. My hands slide back into his hair. There's no rush to the way he kisses me. Nanami's mouth is dangerously addictive.

It's almost painful to pull away from him just as he starts to take it further.

"What?" He looks up at me from his seated position. This punishment is equally bad for me. "You're not getting anything tonight." His hands fall to the edge of the tub as I walk back to the bedroom.

"And you should shower too," I add as I shut the bathroom door. If I caught a glimpse of him showering after I told him we wouldn't be having sex, it might actually kill me.

The bed welcomes me back. I can hear Nanami mumbling curses in the bathroom. It just has to be this way.

. . .

"I'm back!" The door shuts behind me with a click. I carry the groceries to the counter by myself. Usually, Nanami takes a couple of bags for me when I get home.

He walks out of the bedroom with his tie in hand. "Where are you going?" I ask as I start grabbing things from the bags. "Nowhere."

"Really?" I put my things down as he approaches me. "It's for you." My brows furrow as he holds it out. "What?"

"Put your hands out."

What's his point? I hold my hands out for him, palms up. Nanami closes my fingers into fists and then starts tying the tie around my wrists.

"Kento-"

He presses a kiss onto my forehead and then guides me back to our bedroom. Is this happening? "Do you enjoy teasing me?"

The pieces click in my head. He's still mad about the other night. Oh... I'm so in for it.

"Do you?" His fingers work away at my shorts while he speaks. "I couldn't reward bad behavior." Nanami pulls my underwear off with my shorts.

"That's not an answer. Open your mouth."

He holds two fingers up to my lips. I open my mouth and he places them inside. "Good. Now suck them. You're going to want them to be wet." I suck his fingers shamelessly until he removes them from my mouth.

"I'm going to ask you again. Do you enjoy teasing me?" It's hard to focus with the sexual tension in this room. "Yes." The word falls from my lips once, twice, and then a pathetic third time.

Nanami wipes some spit off my chin with his thumb. He nods. My breaths come rapidly. I can't take this. My legs spread further across the bed.

I choke out a moan as he presses his fingers into me. My hands pull at the restraint. "Look at me." My head is turned to the side, my eyes are squeezed shut. "Look at me." Nanami coos tauntingly.

I force myself to look up at him. His fingers pump in and out of me at a steady pace. Still, it's not nearly enough. "You're so desperate aren't you?" There's no point in not giving him what he wants.

I want it too.

"Oh god, yes."

Nanami pulls his fingers out of me. A frustrated sigh is all I can respond with. My body reacts to every minor touch. His fingers grab the collar of my shirt.

"Don't-"

His arms flex as he tears it down the middle. His lips meet my neck and then my collarbone. All I can do is lay there and moan desperately. I need more.

"Nanami..."

His name comes out as a breathy sigh. It hurts to not be able to grab at his hair his shirt or his pants. I squirm as he kisses down my chest to my stomach.

How is he not going insane right now with me?

My lust starts to turn to desperation. I can't handle any more of this. "Just fuck me." Nanami raises his brows at me. "Sorry?"

Hot blush rushes across my cheeks. "Please just fuck me." The hunger in his eyes grows wilder at my begging. "Well..." He unbuckles his belt and drops it onto the floor.

I can't see as well as I want to but the sounds of him undoing his pants drive me just as wild. He leans over me on the bed. "And your shirt."

"My shirt?" I reach up and grab at his shirt. Nanami stands up, pulling away from my grasp. He takes his time unbuttoning his shirt.

I take in what I can. I hate the way being a jujutsu sorcerer almost kills him. But I have to give it credit for keeping him so fucking fit.

His muscles tense and flex as he leans over me again. "Say it one more time." Our eyes lock in a lustful trance.

"Please fuck me."

Nanami gives a small nod and grabs my hip with one hand. The way he does that drives me crazy. He doesn't waste time starting slow.

My moans echo through the room as Nanami thrusts into me relentlessly. His free hand grips my thigh. It will bruise tomorrow and he'll kiss me there. That thought drags another moan out of me.

"Don't stop." With nothing else to do my nails dig into my palms. Nanami's gruff moans start to mix in with mine.

One of my legs wraps around his hip, allowing him to hit a different angle. He adjusts too. Nanami slows his pace slightly and thrusts deeper.

I watch as his head falls back. His moans and curses turn me on in ways no one before him ever has. He drops my thigh and grabs my hand, pinning them above my head.

Nanami leans in closer while he holds my hands. His lips tease mine for a moment before finally kissing me. I drink up his taste like it's the only thing keeping me alive.

My stomach begins to tighten with overwhelming pleasure. Nanami continues to his me as I moan louder. My wrists are pressed harder into the mattress.

"That's it." He presses desperate kisses along my neck as I give in to my orgasm. "Good girl." Nanami drops my hands and sits back up.

"Good girl, just one more minute."

My head digs back into the mattress as my back arches up. His moans become more and more strangled with each minute that passes. I watch as he presses a hand against his forehead.

"Fuck, Y/n... Goddamnit." His hand falls onto my stomach as he finishes. The room falls silent except for our ragged breathing.

After a moment Nanami brushes his hair out of his face. He licks his lips and looks down at me.

"I enjoy teasing you too."

#fanfic #fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen nanami #smut #jjk smut #x female y/n #jujutsu sorcerer #wattpad

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cadaveerie · 1 day

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DRAGON AGE info spreadsheet

i've made THIS SPREADSHEET that has different information about Dragon Age media, such as:

· the canon ages of DA important characters · known info about the DATV companions · where you can find the DATV devs on social media · a tab with relevant links to archived lost media, interesting dragon age posts, official content, and other useful things like this sheet

everything with sources :)

(these images are previews. i strongly advice you to check the sheet itself and not these images for updated info in case there were mistakes, i added new stuff, for links and for better quality.)

some of the things i'll be adding to the sheet next are (probably):

· a sheet with all dragon age media in chronological order (+ relevant links) · visual references (official clear images of the companions mostly, + other things) · more characters in the "character ages" sheet (if there's an interest, let me know if that's the case) · and characters' nationalities (in-game and irl approximations)

keep in mind that there are spoilers all over it, for all games (even datv, who hasn't yet come out at the time of posting this) and for other dragon age media (books, comics, etc.) i did my best to add warnings though!

reach out to me (mostly here or twitter) if there are any mistakes, or if you have any sort of feedback regarding the contents, formatting or accessibility! i'd appreciate it a lot! and talk to me to if you'd be willing to collaborate with me for the upcoming information! i could use the help.

and if the link is broken:

if got it from a reblog, look at the original post and check if it works there (in case i changed it for whatever reason)

if not, just reach out to me (op)

there's more information on the sheet itself. make sure to scroll all the way down and to the right to see all of the sheet :]

i hope this is useful for someone. i did this because most people don't take the time to source their information, and i also find it more comfortable to have most stuff in one place. it took (and continues to take) a loooong time to do this lol it was exhausting. thanks for your attention!

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velvetvexations · 3 days

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that post going around talking about how a trans man and trans woman both got denied from a shelter and someone replied "at least you [the trans man] had the option even if it was denied" really makes me feel like some transradfems see trans men/mascs/trans people AFAB in general being forced to detransition as not as horrifying as trans women/fems/trans people AMAB being forced to detransition. like they can't wrap their heads around femininity being unwillingly forced on someone instead of being a desirable thing to strive for. like they think trans people AFAB are in possession of the femininity they want so badly, so to them a trans man being forced to detransition and present as a cis woman again isn't a result of transphobic violence, it's "retreating into a position of privilege". like we're dangling our AGAB over them or something.

it's genuinely just baffling to me because honestly, being 100% real with you, as a now-fully-transitioned trans man, i think i would genuinely rather die than detransition and live as a woman again. i've had actual nightmares about waking up as a teenager that looks like a girl again that made me cry. but that doesn't mean i hear about trans women/fems being forced to detransition and think of it as "a return to the masculinity i've been denied". forcing literally anyone, trans or not, to live as a gender they don't feel comfortable in is a disgusting, horrific, and violent act that i wouldn't even wish on the most virulently hateful individual i know, regardless of whether or not they were trans. living as a girl/woman made me fucking miserable, and the constant dysphoria was torture.

i just can't understand why some transradfems simply refuse to entertain the idea that a trans person who was AFAB being forced to detransition is not some gotcha moment that they can call us out for like we're mockingly waving our Inherent Femininity in the face of trans women and fems everywhere. this shit is an act of horrific transphobic violence against us. they can understand it'd be awful if it happened to THEM, of course, but not against trans people AFAB. can they really not understand the idea that femininity and womanhood isn't liberating for those who are unwillingly forced into it?

again, i'm a genderqueer trans guy, and i've found expressing my masculinity to be incredibly freeing and amazing for my mental health and overall well-being--but i know enough about gender dysphoria and the pain of toxic masculinity to understand why a trans person AMAB might not be able to find embracing masculinity liberating or enjoyable. it seems like a very basic concept to understand about fellow trans people. it's legitimately baffling to me that most transradfems can't seem to do the same.

but i guess when you've drank the radfem koolaid, you can't see masculinity as anything but evil and transgressive, so i probably shouldn't be so damn confused. 🤷‍♂️

God, that's so frustrating. They could detransition if they wanted to escape transphobic violence too, but they recognize why that's not generally an option. They're selfish nitwits who can't think outside of themselves for so much as five seconds.

#transandro phobia #trans radical feminism #discourse

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evelynpr · 2 days

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Genshin Official Relationships and Status

Something to take note off in character relationships is what their "official and known" relationships are. So, I decided to try to make a chart of one with the playable cast and some extras.

This is a draft though. If you have criticisms and comments, absolutely please do leave them because I don't think my interpretations of these government systems are that accurate.

Anyways, here they are! The higher the placement, the higher the authority. Distance does not apply, and the legend is in each of the pictures.

Mondstadt: That's a lotta knights

They can be split between the Church and Knights, but the Church is still under the Grand Master as far as I know.

Power is surprisingly concentrated to 1/2 individuals only for a nation of freedom...Mond you gotta work on that...

Jean, Diluc, Kaeya, and Lisa are arranged the way they are in reference to the Klee summer event where they passed on who was looking after Mond.

Diluc still retains his high position because he has so many high credentials and connections (The Darknight Hero, Mond's richest man, high status in an intelligence network), despite being the Ex-Cavalry Captain.

Rosaria is an official recognized nun, but her vigilante works are by her own accord, hence the colors.

I am not sure whatsoever where Jean and Barbara's father, the Cardinal, should really be placed, or if he even still holds the position.

Poor Noelle does so much more Mond, but is lowest in status...please just make her a knight already T__T

Liyue: Zhongli and his powerful lesbians

I really am not sure if Ningguang is who Liyue's closest "leader", but that is how I felt during most of Liyues events

I'm assuming that the adepti now have a lesser status in Liyue because of the shift in power to the humans during the archon quest

How high Beidou's status is is, completely informal. She's right beside Ningguang because they do find each other to be equal competitors in their own way.

Those directly connected to Zhongli are those I assumed to have taken direct orders from him, hence why Beidou and Keqing are not included although they do respect him as their archon (Keqing in her own way)

I feel like I'm missing people here, compared to Mond, so uh, help me out here-

Inazuma: They just had a civil war...woops

I am reallyyy unsure how to label Sangonomiya island's status. Are they under the shogun? Are they their own separate territory?

Otherwise, Inazuma is pretty straightforward with its 3 factions and families

Sumeru: The whole government was just overthrown

Are there like, genuinely so sages right now, or replacement Grand Sage??? Nahida you need to do something asap-

Scara doesn't exactly have equal status to Alhaitham as Acting Grand Sage, but I felt it was more important to show that Scara is working directly under Nahida

Speaking of which, the title "shadow" is used because it's the same role that Ei served to Makoto, which I find poetic. If there is an official or better title tho, I'd love to hear it.

Hopefully, as time passes, there will be more representatives from the desert with high status. Poor Candace is carrying the desert's status on her back-

Should I have included the Corps of Thirty even if there are no playable characters...?

Fontaine: Fancy Schmancy Titles

I honestly reallyyyy wished that Neuv and Wrio were on equal standing, but in the eyes of Fontaine, that probably just isn't true.

Even so, absolute do not underestimate how important Wrio's role is in Fontaine's justice system, because without the Fortress functioning as it is, so much of Fontaine's justice would fall apart.

Despite Furina's death penalty and retirement, I still believe she deserves the title of archon with the highest status. No matter what happens, she is still Fontaine's idol and savior. (Besides, if she wanted/needed anything, Neuv would give it to her.)

How high Navia, Clorinde, and Chevy's statuses are in relation to each other in reality is...not explicit?

Really, Clorinde is just another employee under Fontaine's justice system, and isn't a head in anyway, while Chevy and Navia are actual leaders. But, Clorinde is the best Champion Duelist, so does that make them cancel out...?

Anyways that's all from me! It's pretty interesting to me just how much of the cast are part of their respective nation's government, which only makes sense given the kind of ruckus the traveler causes. Have a good day!

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satorusugurugurl · 1 day

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Til’ the Day that I Die (Chapter Four)

Summary: You’re a popstar in need of a bodyguard when you find yourself with a stalker. That’s how you meet Fushiguro Toji, you’re insanely hot bodyguard. Who knows how to push your buttons, and get you feeling flustered. Just how far is he willing to go to protect you? And how far would you go to protect him?

Pairing: Fushiguro Toji x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: mentions of death, grief, language, anxiety, stalking, some slight fluff

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: fun fact—this was supposed to be five parts, its gonna be a bit long because this has taken a life of its own 😅💚

Part One Part Two Part Three

“Oh—” You whispered, stepping forward closer to the shrine. Incense was burning in front of a picture of a beautiful woman with black hair. A small mochi and vase with wildflowers sat beside her photo. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

”Thank you—”

Toji exhaled through his nose, ruffling the top of Megumi’s head as you approached the shrine, kneeling before it, closing your eyes as you bowed your head. Seeing you move so fast, dropping before his late wife's shrine, left Toji feeling both appreciative and sick to his stomach at the same time. Maybe part of It was because he still missed his sweet wife, or perhaps it was because he’s been so wrong about you.

“Thank you for welcoming me into your home, Mrs. Fushiguro.”

The sincerity behind your words felt like a knife in his stomach. Yeah, he had definitely misjudged you. He wished he could take back what he had told you earlier this night. But time didn't work like that. Toji assumed you were a spoiled rotten brat and blatantly said that to your face. There was no taking back those shitty assumptions.

But what he could do was make up for what he had said.

“She would have loved to have you. Wouldn't she squirt?” He asked, ruffling Megumi’s hair.

You glanced over your shoulder, watching Megumi grip his father's pants, nodding his head. A slight flush dusted his cheeks as you smiled sympathetically at him. It must have been hard losing his mother at such a young age; you couldn't even imagine what that must have been like. But Toji, you were in actual awe of him.

Not only did he work for a well-renowned security company, but he was also a single father. Balancing work, raising a child, and caring for a house must be hard as hell. A sudden respect for the mountain of the man blossomed in your chest as he stared at his son, lovingly stroking his hair back.

”I should probably get him to bed, then we can get you settled in, okay?”

You nodded in agreement, watching as he placed his hand on Megumi’s head, turning him to head down a hall. “Goodnight, Miss.” The little tyke said, waving at you, which had your heart squeezing in your chest as you waved back.

When they disappeared into a room, you pushed yourself off the ground, looking around the living; despite being a bit dusty, it was surprisingly well organized. You admired the different photos on bookcases, from Toji and Megumi to pictures of his late wife. As you looked at each photo, you grounded yourself, swallowing at a sadness lumping in your throat. In each photo of his wife, Megumi was a baby. There were no photos of her with him as a toddler or a child, meaning she probably passed before she could watch him grow. That sadness tugged at your heart, making breathing almost hard as you felt nothing but empathy for the family who’d so selflessly taken you in.

“She’s staying for a while?” Megumi asked softly as Toji lifted the sheets for him.

“Yep, you good with that kiddo? If you're not, I could call Shiu.”

“I don't mind—” Toji cocked a dark brow watching Megumi grab his white wolf plushie hugging it. “She’s pretty.”

Those words nearly sent Toji reeling back as he gawked at his son. “Pretty?” Megumi nodded, pursing his lips together as he shot his father a quick, curious glance. Thanks to Toji’s profession, he was a professional at reading people, and that talent extended to his son. “Yeah, she is. But Megumi, this is strictly professional, you know that, right?” When his son just stared at him, he signed. “There’s nothing between us, and I assure you there won't be.” The dismissive tone of Toji’s words left Megumi blinking.

“Why?”

“Because it’s unprofessional. It's my job to protect her.”

He pulled the sheets up to Megumi’s chin, tucking him in. “You know you don't have to worry about me.” Megumi rubbed his face into the plushie fur. “I wouldn't mind you seeing her.” Toji rolled his eyes, pushing Megumi’s bangs off his forehead and pressing a kiss there.

“She’s a client, kid.”

“So?”

How was it possible for a kid to be this intrusive? “Okay, that’s enough questions, go to sleep.” The floorboards creaked under Toji’s weight as he headed for the hall. “Night Megumi.”

“Night, Dad.”

Shutting the door to his son’s room, Toji was left alone in the hall's silence with his thoughts. He knew there would be a day when Megumi would ask him about his dating life. He was sure how he would react, whether he didn't like the idea or was indifferent. But this was a reaction he hadn't been expecting. For Megumi to basically give Toji his blessing to date you was literally unfathomable. And he had said it with such a straight face!

Megumi didn't know you; he'd barely met you, hardly said less than twenty words to you, and was giving His father permission. Your presence had that much of an impact on him? The same woman he had deemed a spoiled brat had won his son over merely by smiling and being kind.

He'd have to make sure Megumi knew you weren't staying forever. This arrangement was a temporary deal. One designed to keep you safe and out of harm's way.

As he headed into the living room, rubbing the back of his neck, thinking of how he could word it, he saw you standing in front of the bookcases, staring at the photos that lined the shelves. He'd been expecting to see an unreadable, almost bored face as you waited for him. What he was met with had him frozen in his spot.

Tears, literal tears welled in your eyes. You were crying while looking at pictures of his wife. The woman who’s impacted him in so many ways. Who had blessed him with a son who was so much like her? The same woman he had mourned for the last five years. Seeing you like that only made Toji regret his earlier words even more. With a sigh, Toji cleared his throat as he entered the living room, stomping his feet a little too loud to give you time to wipe the stray tears off your face.

“Sorry about the wait.”

“Oh, you’re fine; I’m the one imposing on your family.”

Toji wanted to argue and tell you to shut up, but he let it go. You weren’t a burden. He was happy to help you because it was the right thing to do.

So, instead of yelling or starting another argument, Toji stepped forward, ruffling the top of your head. “Come on, I’ll give ya’ a tour.” The apartment was lovely, with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, and a balcony overlooking the city. It was a pleasant, quiet home perfect for the two of them. It was also the place that you would call home for an indefinite future. “It’s a little cramped, but it’s still home.”

You both made your way back out to the living room. Where you were fiddling with your thumbs and anxiously looking around. Toji was watching you closely as he had been doing the entire night. You have been through so much in the last few hours he didn’t wanna push you further than you had been so far. Right now, the best thing he could do was get in bed and sleep this terrible night off.

He cleared his throat around the living room before moving the cushions off the couch. Upon seeing him moving, you jumped to help him take the cushions from him and place them off to the side—something his previous clients wouldn’t be caught dead. Then again, you weren’t like his other clients. The more time he spent with you, the more evident that became.

“You realize you don’t have to help me do this right.”

“What kind of house would I be if I didn’t help?”

Toji shook his head as he moved the coffee table to the side. “Ya’ know, I think you’re the only houseguest that has ever done this with me.” you shook your head this time, giving him an almost smug smile.

“Well, I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.”

You laughed, and God, it was sweet and light as air. A sound that ceased all of Toji’s movements as he looked up at you. After everything you had gone through tonight, you were still able to laugh and smile. And it wasn’t that fake laugh for the smile he watched you put on when you were at the stadium. You'd been through hell and back this evening, but you were grinning despite everything that you had gone through. Knowing that someone had gotten into your home, you were staying in a stranger's house, yet you were laughing a carefree giggle. For you to still be able to smile like everything was fine when he knew it took resilience and guts.

You hummed, rubbing at the back of your neck. Unaware of the watchful gaze that Toji was shooting in your direction. “I bet you have a lot of interesting stories to tell.” Your words pull him out of the stupor he found himself in while staring at your delicate features and pretty face.

“Uhm, yeah, yeah, I do have a lot of stories I could tell. But let’s put a pin in that; you had a long day. You need to get some rest.” Toji stretched his arms above his head before stretching the arms across his chest. “If you give me a few minutes, I can change the sheets on my bed, and you can shower.”

“Your bed?”

Toji blinked, looking away before looking back and meeting your confused gaze. “Yeah, I’m taking the couch; you can stay in my bed.” From the way you crossed your arms and fed your brows, Toji knew you didn’t approve of this idea.

“I’m not the type to kick you out of your bed because I’m staying with you. I am perfectly capable of sleeping on a pull-out bed.”

“No one said you weren’t, Doll Face.” The mere annoyance etched into his voice didn't faze you in the slightest. “Anyways, I'm sleeping here. So I'm going to go change my sheets, get you a towel, and then you can rest.”

“Just grab me a towel; I really don't mind sleeping out here.”

A vein in Toji’s forehead throbbed as he slowly turned to glare down at you, putting on the fakest smile he could muster. “You’re a brat, you know that? I'm trying to be nice and offer you my bed so you can get a good night’s sleep.” Navy eyes watched as you shrugged, fucking shrugged at his words.

“Don't take this the wrong way, but I would prefer you to be on your A-Game tomorrow. You are my bodyguard, after all. If anyone should get a good night's sleep, it should be you.”

With pure satisfaction, you watched Toji open his mouth to argue before slowly closing it. A cocky smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as your tall; muscular bodyguard couldn't bring himself to argue or disagree with you. Seeing that expression on your face, Toji’s eyes were twitching; maybe you were a brat.

“Ooh, you sure Miss Pop-Princess won’t mind sleeping on the couch? I wouldn't want it ruining your back~”

Instead of snapping or giving him attitude, Toji watched as you slowly tilted your head to the side. “You do realize I have slept on my fair share of couches before I was famous and after the fact.” Toji blinked, watching you run your hands over the mattress. “When I was staying with my friends, I slept on their sofa, and they didn't even have a pull-out mattress, so this is a step up.” Damn, you were just—normal.

“Fuck, you aren't like other clients I've had in the past.”

“Is that a good thing?”

You watched as Toji’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Eh, I don't know yet.” You glared at him, but your glare was cut short as he threw a pillow at your face. “Relax, it’s not necessarily a bad thing. You're just different. But sometimes different is good.”

Sometimes different was good?

Toji’s words had you tossing and turning on the pull-out bed. You sighed, staring at the ceiling as you tossed and turned, and his words echoed in your mind. After everything that had happened to you in the last few hours, you weren't sure if you agreed with him.

In fact, ever since you had gone viral, things have been incredibly different for you. And you weren't sure if it was a good thing. Your fame had its perks, of course. You made good money, more than enough to give back to the community and help those who couldn't help themselves. But, the downsides were turning out to be—worse than you ever imagined.

Your anxiety was at an all-time high; you had a stalker who had been watching you for god knows how long, and you were staying with your bodyguard, whom you knew practically nothing about. Well, that last part wasn't as bad as the other two drastic changes you were experiencing. Did that fact make it any less nerve-wracking and anxiety-inducing? No, it didn't.

Those thoughts plagued your mind all night; from the time Toji left you to shower until then, the blue velvet sky outside began turning a light shade of orange with the promise of morning. There was no way you were going to be able to sleep. You had come to terms with that fact before you even stepped foot into Toji's apartment building. The anxiety had dug its claws into you. Its talons seep into your skin like a poison meant to keep you up for all night hours.

Hopefully, this won't be a permanent change in your life.

The orange hue shifted to a lilac shade with pink clouds. At that point, you had given up on sleeping altogether, opting to sit on the fold-out bed and stare at the different shapes forming in the clouds. Just as you watched a rabbit shift into an elephant, a soft creaking sound pulled your attention away from the window.

Megumi wandered out of his room, rubbing his eyes as he looked around. Navy blue eyes met yours, and he stared at you for a second before continuing his way into the living room. He was silent as he plopped down on the end of the mattress, looking at the black screen of the television.

“You wanna watch television?” You questioned in a soft, almost motherly tone.

“No, I’m okay.” His timid voice melted your heart, but you could tell from how he stole glances at you that he had something to say.

“You sure about that.”

Another silence spread before he turned to look over his shoulder at you. “Yeah.” Little fingers picked at the thick blanket Toji had given you. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you for asking. How about you?”

He shrugged his shoulders, pulling a piece of lint to the blanket. “I slept okay.” Nodding your head, you sighed, looking out at the sky.

“Well, from the sounds of it, we both didn't sleep very well, and there's only one cure for a rough night.”

Your words had Megumi’s head snapping in your direction, curiosity gleaming in his big doe-eyed. “There’s a cure?” With a wide bobcat grin, you picked the blankets off yourself.

“Yes, and thankfully, I know the only cure out there. Wanna help me?” Megumi took your hand without hesitation, giving it a squeeze as you both headed beaded into the kitchen. “I can assure you that this cure will be the tastiest cure of them all.”

The smell of bacon pulled Toji out of dreamland. He groaned, running his hands down his face, and sat up, glancing at the clock. It was seven thirty, and Megumi was already up and about, staring at his day, much like his mother used to do. This would come in handy in the future, but for a six-year-old to be up cooking seemed unlikely, so it had to be you. At least Toji hoped it was you.

As tempting as it was to stay in bed and fall back asleep, the soft clattering from the kitchen urged Toji to investigate. Slipping on his grey sweats with a sigh, Toji headed out to the kitchen, where he found his son eating breakfast on one of the barstools. He was seconds away from scolding his son to wake him up the next time he was hungry when he heard the soft singing resonating from the stove.

There he saw you. You were swaying your hips to music softly playing on your phone. You were completely oblivious to him watching you as you flipped a pancake over in the frying pan you used. Normally, he'd be slightly irritated if someone he didn't know was using his kitchen and groceries without asking.

But you looked so pretty, mindlessly singing as you cooked breakfast. Not only his son, but for him too from the second plate sitting off to the side, and the third you were plating must be for you. It had been so long since Toji’s kitchen was filled with warmth, singing, and life. It was so strange, different.

But then again, different was sometimes good.

It was so good that Toji crept over to stand behind you, watching you flip the pancake to cook it perfectly. You still were unaware of his presence, which was slightly concerning, seeing that you were being stalked by a crazed maniac right now. That was something you both would have to work on in the future. For now, Toji was going to have a bit of fun.

He leaned as close as he could to your ear before chuckling. “I didn't know the Pop-Princess could cook.” When it came to startling you, Toji had expected a few things to happen. You’d likely react with a fight-or-flight. He imagined you trying to take a swing at him, which he could easily avoid. It made sense; you'd be on high alert, ready to fight for your life if needed.

Instead, a warm pancake smacked him in the face. He just stood there as the pancake slowly slid down his face, revealing your startled face and staring up at him in fear. Out of everything you could have used to your advantage, you threw a pancake at him. A flat, soft, warm breakfast treat had been the only line of defense you'd choose to use—when you were holding a frying pan. As the pancake fell to the floor with a soft thump, you and Toju stared into each other's eyes.

Toji had his work cut out for him.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

Til’ the Day Tag List: (AGE MUST BE IN BIO MDNI)

@justagirl-with-aphone @flowerpot113 @elitesanjisimp @fandomtrash5092 @jinxiewritings @ryomku @amybarnes22 @cutesytwt @starmapz @getoisinnocent @bearchermer

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