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euthymiya · 2 days ago

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greens — ft. wriothesley

includes: hints at wrio’s past and his mother that he reflects on ; established relationship ; gender neutral reader ; reader force feeds him veggies because i hc he hates them ; based kind of on this post

“Wriothesley,” you warn. He pauses, glancing at you cautiously at your tone.

“You sound…not happy,” he points out.

You raise a brow, unimpressed and unamused as you say, “Very astute observation.”

“What’d I do this time?” He pouts, slumping in his chair as he tries to sift through his brain for what he’s possibly done. He doesn’t have to think for too long, though—you answer for him instantly.

He almost wishes you never did.

“Finish your vegetables, Wriothesley,” you scold firmly, “you’re not leaving this table until you finish your greens—they’re good for you.”

Finish your vegetables, Wriothesley.

They’re good for you.

You’re not leaving this table until you finish.

There’s something eerily familiar about the words. He thinks he may have swallowed his vision—a chill seeps along his esophagus as he swallows thickly, the frost mixing with his blood as it runs cold and makes him stiffen. There’s ice in his veins. Frigid, harsh, cruel, and sharp.

He plays with his fork, not meeting your stare as he moves the leftover on dinner his plate around with a dazed look.

“Not hungry,” he mutters. “I’m full.”

“You never finish your vegetables,” you huff, “honestly, Wrio, you’re an adult, you know. Don’t be difficult about eating healthy.”

Everything you say sounds devastatingly familiar. His mother’s words take shape in your voice, molding in your throat and waltzing past your lips to haunt him. It’s your voice, sure, but they’re her words. Something about it makes him feel young again—but it’s not rooted in nostalgia. Not fond memories or amusing moments he can look back at and smile.

They taunt him, he thinks. The sweet smile and kind eyes, the firm tone and gentle strictness. His mother’s love was easy to believe. So painfully simple, it felt like she did it just as she breathed. Inhaling his presence and exhaling her care for him in a steady rhythm between expansion and contraction in her lungs.

Eat your vegetables, Wriothesley, she’d tell him. If you want to grow big and strong, you have to eat them.

He wonders now, as he stares at the remnants of dinner, if she’d ever cared for his growth because she cherished his wellbeing. If the thought of him being older, stronger, and maybe even wiser was something she was proud of. (He knows the answer. Deep, in the gaping hole of his chest, the knife twists into the raw edges of a still-healing wound.

He knows. Better than anyone, he knows she never cared. Not for anything other than growing him big and desirable so she could sell him off, offer him up like she saw him as though he was marketable. Like an animal, maybe. An item. A luxury, even.

But not a child. He was never a child in her eyes—simply always just a person who wasn’t grown yet.)

“Hey,” you snap your fingers in front of his face, pulling him out of his daze. Something in your face is softer now, flooded with concern, dripping with anxiety. “You okay?”

“Sorry,” he blinks, staring past your head and at the wall. His voice is soft and barely-there as he all but whispers, “just haven’t heard that in a while. I guess some things never change, huh? I was a handful then, and now, too.”

It’s a poor attempt at a joke. You see right through it—you always do. Some form of recognition and realization and maybe even heartbreak flashes in your eyes, and he hates it. Hates that he can never escape something as mundane as dinner being tainted with demons that make everything unholy. Past demons that shape shift into his present. His future.

His everything.

They reach to grab him, to drag him back into that dark, unforgiving hole in his mind where he can’t climb out. Can’t reach for any sort of leverage to pull himself out and find the light. But just before they can reach out and touch him, you get to him first—one hand grabbing his across the table as you smile softly.

“Well, there’s only one way to handle a stubborn child who doesn’t eat his vegetables.”

“What? Punish me?” He raises a brow. You pretend you don’t hear the underlying bitterness in his tone.

Instead, you reach your fork across the table and onto his plate, stabbing at the broccoli head left untouched before bringing it up to his lips and waving the fork in circular motions.

He scrunches his brows in distaste. You smile and fight back a giggle as you sing, “here comes the plane! Ready for landing in three, two, one…”

“Are you serious?” He snorts, equal parts amused and equal parts in disbelief.

You huff, glaring. “The plan is waiting to land, y’know.”

“Fine,” he sighs in defeat, letting you push the broccoli past his lips and into his mouth. He grumbles, chewing against his will as you watch him intently. “This is gross.”

“Well, one day, when you’re big and strong, you’ll thank me.”

“I’m already big and strong,” he insists, looking a little dramatically wounded.

“Bigger and stronger,” you correct. “You’ll thank me eventually.”

He already has plenty to thank you for, he thinks, eyes trained on you as the light casts over your features like heaven resides in your skin. But adding one more thing to the list is more than okay.

Better than okay, in fact.

So umm….idk. I’m sad about him :( also it’s 2 am and I’m sleepy and this is not proof read I’m sorry. It could be written better but I’m tiredddf

#—rivistyping!#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst

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minkoq · 2 days ago

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🍓 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

Signed with Love

iida tenya; secretary! fem! reader (pro hero au)

warnings: sfw, pre-relationship, angst, mentions of alcohol, lowkey simp y/n

part 1 , part 2 , part 3 , part 4 , part 5

🍓 — your eyes scanned the room as you waited patiently for iida to arrive, the rest of your colleagues were drinking and laughing loudly in the small but homey restaurant. in front of you was a barley touched glass of beer, you weren't a big drinker but you have a hard time saying no, so you just smiled and nodded when someone poured you a glass.

🍓 — you looked towards the empty seat beside you, you swallowed your spit. insecurities and even some anxiety bubbled up, after the recent events with your boss you grew distant with him. iida and your relationship slowly disappeared into an unknown fog, you wanted to reach out and help him loosen up. that this relationship is okay to have, and that he shouldn't be so strict with himself.

🍓 — a gentle sigh left your lips, you hoped that the kiss wasn't a one time thing. that you could feel him soft lips against yours once more, how he held your face so delicately. like you might break if he put any pressure on you, but the shock in his eyes once he pulled away. the way he took his jacket and just walked out your door, a cloud of emotions were raging in your head. was it you?

🍓 — you were taken out of your complex thoughts when you heard loud laughter, your colleagues giggling and cheering quietly when they saw iida walk in through the door. your eyes were on him immediately, watching him bow politely, how he straightend his back as his eyes traced over the many faces, until he landed on yours.

🍓 — iida coughed awkwardly as you two made eye contact, he brushed a hand through his dark blue hair. you waved him over gently while pointing at the chair that was empty beside you, he nodded and came over to you. on the way he was stopped by some of your co-workers but continued to his seat. he was tense, so were you.

🍓 — he gave you a soft bow and sat down beside you, you smiled and bowed back gently. "congratulations on the mission," you praised him quietly, iida looked at you and nodded. "thank you, it wouldn't have been possible without your help." you grinned to yourself, he was always so humble.

🍓 — your eyes traced over his form, how his white dress shirt squeezed around his beefy biceps, how his sleeves were rolled up perfectly to reveal his veins on his arms. you gulped gently, an awkward silence fell over you two. the mingling of the rest of the restaurant dropped into the background, your eyes met but you cut off the eye contact and took a sip of your beer. you hated the taste, but anything would help to escape this situation.

🍓 — "i didn't think you'd come," you spoke out truthfully and looked back at him, he coughed awkwardly and pushed his glasses back up. you could see how he tried to find the words, "i.. thought you didn't want to see me." he said sheepishly while scratching the back of his head.

🍓 — you mouth hung open, your heart pounding heavily against your ribcage at his words. they made you ache. "it's still a dinner with the agency, you should attend them. no need to take my feelings into consideration." you rambled out as your face heated up, suddenly you felt the hot lights on your face. the laughter growing louder in your ears, you needed a small break.

🍓 — "how could i not take your feelings into consideration?" he asked, you could hear the genuine shock in his voice. it made your heart ache once more, he was such a polite and soft man, and this relationship was taboo. at least to iida.

🍓 — you felt your throat closen up, you got up softly. "excuse me for a second," you needed fresh air immediately, this restaurant grew so small on you, your head reeling with heavy thoughts. iida's longing gaze was crushing on your back as you walked towards the exit.

🍓 —you took a deep breath in of the crisp air, shit, you forgot your jacket inside. you walked a few feet over to a small alley, leaning against the wall and looking down at your feet. were you being too greedy? to just want iida all to yourself? you knew no other woman would appreciate him like you would.

🍓 — "sorry for making you uncomfortable." his voice cut out the silence, he leaned against the wall of the alley. "iida, you didn't make me uncomfortable." you reassured him quickly and eyed him shyly, "didn't i tell you to call me tenya?" he chuckled out, was.. was he teasing you?

🍓 — he walked closer and smiled down at you, did he suddenly have a change of heart? he seemed almost cunning, "yeah," you nodded and bit the inside of your cheek. "so why don't you call me that?" as much as he tried to be flirty the soft blush on his cheeks figures him out immediately, he was just trying to flirt. but it worked.

🍓 — "tenya." you whispered out into the cold air, he saw you shivering. he frowned and leaned in closer to you, his strong hands found itself on your jaw to lift up your chin, you gripped onto his forearms as you looked up at him.

🍓 — he leaned in and finally, connected his lips to yours again. the kiss felt longing, like he waited for this. he has suppressed his feelings for you for long enough, maybe he should calm down for once, take a breath of fresh air and just be with you.

🍓 — you closed your eyes and kissed him back, the wet smacking of your lips against eachother made your knees buckle. one arm wrapped itself around your waist as iida pushed you into the wall softly. his other arm was above your head as you two continued kissing.

🍓 — his tongue slipped into your mouth and that was the moment when you pulled away. "tenya, this.. you.." his breath fanned over your face as he adjusted his glasses on his nose, your soft stutters made him smile. "i'll wait for you inside."

#bnha x female reader #mha x female reader #female reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #tenya iida x reader #iida tenya x reader #bnha smau #mha smau #tenya iida

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yourlittlegoblin · 1 day ago

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{The Gift He Couldn't Ignore} Scaramouche x Reader

The way I giggled like a little shit at 4am when writing this is insane,,, anyways I hope you enjoy :) Fem!Reader but everyone is welcomed to read my posts!

Scaramouche is as sharp as the edge of a blade, his presence cutting through any room like a storm ready to strike. His words are quick and biting, his temper just as volatile. Many in his command know better than to cross him; even the boldest of the Fatui tread carefully around his wrath. A glare from him is enough to freeze the air, and his scorn lingers like a burn.

But you? You're the quiet ray of sunshine that somehow warms even his cold, stormy edges. You’re introverted and soft-spoken, but you have a calm presence that balances out his temper. There’s something about the way you carry yourself — unassuming, yet unwavering in your quiet kindness — that even Scaramouche can't deny.

It doesn’t take long for some of his subordinates to figure it out. When the air grows thick with tension, and Scaramouche's patience wears thin, they make a quick escape — to you. One by one, they appear at your door, frantic and desperate for refuge.

"Please," one of them says, out of breath and clutching their clipboard like it might shield them, "just let me stand here for a bit. He won’t yell at me if I’m with you."

You blink at them, slightly bewildered but not entirely surprised. “He won’t yell at you if you just get your work done.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know,” another mutters, shifting uncomfortably, “but he’ll find something to yell about anyway! We’re safer here.”

You sigh, but you let them linger, even offering them a cup of tea while you finish up your paperwork.

Eventually, Scaramouche storms in, his piercing gaze scanning the room. The Fatui scattered around you straighten like statues, their fear palpable. But when his eyes land on you, the fire dims, and something softer flickers to life.

You glance up from your papers, raising an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

His sharp tone falters, softening into something that’s almost — almost — sheepish. “No,” he mutters, crossing his arms. He doesn’t acknowledge the others, though his gaze flicks toward them briefly.

The room is still for a beat. Then, with a low grumble, he turns on his heel and leaves. The tension dissolves instantly, and the subordinates slump in relief.

“You see?” one of them whispers, awe in their voice. “He can’t yell at us when you’re here. You’re our only hope.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “You’re all ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” another chimes in, “but it works.”

They’re not wrong. Scaramouche may be a force of nature, but around you, his storm quiets — and that’s something they’re willing to bet their lives on.

---------------------------------------------------

Soon after, you find yourself standing outside Scaramouche’s office, gently knocking on the door. His sharp voice calls out, “Enter.”

Pushing the door open, you step inside, offering him a small smile as his gaze lifts from the paperwork scattered across his desk. “Good evening,” you say softly.

He arches an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “What brings you here at this hour? Surely, you don’t intend to lecture me about yelling at my subordinates again.”

You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head. “Not this time.” Walking closer, you reach into your pocket and pull out a small, delicate trinket — a little bird carved from polished wood, its wings spread mid-flight.

“What’s that?” Scaramouche asks, his tone skeptical but laced with curiosity.

“I was wandering through the market earlier,” you begin, holding out the trinket, “and I saw this at one of the stalls. It made me think of you.”

He blinks, his eyes narrowing slightly, though you notice the faintest hint of color brushing his cheeks. “A bird?”

You nod, your voice soft as you explain. “It reminded me of… soaring high. Of reaching for your goals, your ambitions. I thought it might be a nice way to convey my wishes for your endeavors to end in success.”

For a moment, Scaramouche says nothing, his eyes flickering between you and the trinket in your hand. Then, slowly, he reaches out and takes it, his fingers brushing against yours. He examines the bird closely, running his thumb over its smooth surface.

“It’s… fine craftsmanship,” he mutters, though his voice has lost some of its usual sharpness.

You smile, rubbing your eyes as a small yawn escapes you. “I’m glad you like it.”

At the sound of your yawn, Scaramouche’s gaze snaps to you, his expression shifting. The faint shadows under your eyes and the way your posture droops don’t escape his notice.

“You’re tired,” he states, his tone firm but quieter than usual.

“I’m fine,” you say with a slight wave of your hand, though your body betrays you with another yawn.

“Don’t give me that,” he snaps, though there’s no real bite in his words. He sets the trinket carefully on his desk before standing and stepping around to your side. “Wandering the markets, running errands, and now coming to see me? Do you even know when to stop?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the glare he gives you silences whatever excuse you were about to give.

“Go to bed,” he orders, crossing his arms as he towers slightly over you. “Now.”

“Scaramouche, I’m fine—”

“Do I need to carry you there myself?” he interrupts, narrowing his eyes in challenge.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

Scaramouche’s sharp eyes follow your every move as you rub your eyes and yawn once again, prompting an exasperated sigh from him. "You're hopeless," he mutters, setting the bird trinket carefully on the corner of his desk.

Before you can protest, he waves a hand dismissively. "The subordinate quarters are too far, and knowing you, you'll find an excuse not to rest anyway. Sleep here, on the couch."

You blink at him in surprise, glancing over at the modestly cushioned sofa tucked against the wall of his office. "Here? Are you serious?"

He gives you a look, one eyebrow arched in that signature Scaramouche way that screams do not argue with me. "Yes, here. Or do you want me to watch you stumble through the halls half-asleep only to collapse somewhere?"

You hesitate, fidgeting slightly. "I don't want to intrude..."

"You're not. Sit down before I make you." His voice is firm, but there's no harshness in it, only a strange undercurrent of care he’s trying desperately to hide.

With a small sigh, you relent, removing your coat and draping it over your shoulders like a makeshift blanket. The couch is surprisingly comfortable, and as you settle in, you hear him grumble, “I doubt you’ll actually sleep.”

“Watch me,” you murmur softly, already feeling the warmth of the room seep into you. The day’s exhaustion catches up all at once, and before you know it, your eyes grow heavy and drift shut.

Scaramouche leans against his desk, arms crossed, watching as your breathing evens out. “Idiot,” he mutters under his breath, though his gaze softens ever so slightly. He picks up the bird trinket once more, his thumb brushing over its polished wings as he glances between it and your peaceful, sleeping form.

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, his office feels a little less cold.

---------------------------------------------------

When you wake up, a comforting warmth envelopes you, much cozier than your thin coat could ever provide. You blink groggily and glance down to see Scaramouche's thick fur coat draped over you, its plush fabric soft against your skin. It carries his unmistakable scent—subtle hints of sharp spice and something faintly sweet, undeniably him.

For a moment, you’re caught between surprise and a quiet flutter in your chest. Carefully sitting up, you adjust the coat, its weight still lingering over your shoulders like a protective embrace.

Your gaze shifts toward Scaramouche, seated at his desk. His usual frown is gone, replaced by a calm, almost contemplative expression. He holds something small in his hands—a few of the trinkets you’ve given him over time. A bead here, a charm there, and even a tiny polished stone you had insisted would bring him good luck during one of his more ambitious missions.

He turns them over one by one, his gloved fingers tracing each object with uncharacteristic gentleness. It’s a rare sight, one that tugs at your heartstrings in a way you can’t quite describe.

You watch in silence, your heart growing warmer with every moment. Despite his sharp words and cold demeanor, this little glimpse of him—his quiet appreciation for the small things you’ve shared—makes all his rough edges seem a little softer.

You pull the coat tighter around yourself, smiling faintly as you silently decide to treasure this fleeting, tender moment for as long as you can.

Then Scaramouche looks up, startled to find your eyes on him. His surprise is brief, but it’s enough to break the tranquil moment. “How long have you been awake?” he asks sharply, though his tone carries a hint of embarrassment.

“I just woke up,” you murmur, still wrapped in his fur coat. Your gaze drifts back to the trinkets scattered on his desk, and without thinking, you say softly, “You kept them.”

He scoffs, turning his head slightly as if to hide the faintest flush creeping up his neck. “Of course, I kept them. What do you take me for? I’m not someone so lowly as to toss away gifts given with sincere thoughts behind them.”

Despite his words, there’s a subtle defensiveness in his tone, almost as if the notion of doing otherwise would be an unthinkable affront. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with a huff, and adds, “Honestly, you’re such a fool sometimes, thinking I wouldn’t.”

You can’t help but smile at his reaction, though the warmth in your chest only grows. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“Don’t get used to it, idiot,” he mutters, looking away but making no move to reclaim his coat from your shoulders.

#genshin #genshin impact #scaramouche #scaramouche genshin #genshin scaramouche #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #genshin scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche x you #genshin x you #genshin x reader #drabble #dreabbles #x reader #x you #fyp

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cc1306 · 1 day ago

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hopeless romantic! suna, who can’t stop zoning out, while you’re telling him all about the fight the twins got in during second period. he stares at you blankly, thinking about the way your nose crinkles from laughter as you’re talking to him. cute.

hopeless romantic! suna, who asks, “sorry, what were you saying?” in response to you waving your hand in his face and snapping him out of his daze. with a slight blush on his face, he turns his head, mortified that you caught him failing to pay attention.

“seriously…keep up!” you reprimand him with a half-serious frown and a pout, and he forces himself to pay full attention not wanting to subject himself to such embarrassment again.

hopeless romantic! suna, who stays up late that night facetiming osamu, as he rambles on about some argument he and atsumu got into earlier in the day.

“sunarin, pay attention! quit thinking about [name], i’m talking to you,”

“i wasn’t thinking about her,” he defends, knowing full well that he was wondering if you were still awake before osamu interrupted.

“right, and i’m not the better twin. you know, you should just confess to her before it’s too late. someone else might make a move before you do, then you’ll never get to be with her.”

osamu’s statement made suna think hard.

“…yeah well she doesn’t like me like that. we’re just friends ‘samu.”

“you two are insufferable. let me know when you grow a pair and finally ask her out,” osamu groans out, growing tired of suna’s crippling fear of rejection.

“whatever… im tired now, bye,” suna cut off osamu’s rant with a yawn, before he ended the call.

would she really go out with someone else?

today was the day. suna decided that today would be the day he put his fear to the side and told [name] how he felt. he felt his hands tremble every time she was near and his heart pound, as adrenaline surged through his body.

during your lunch break, you sat on the roof together, just the two of you alone. suna saw this moment as his opportunity, the perfect chance to try and confess his feelings to you. you were currently rambling to him again, telling a story he honestly tried to listen to, but it proved difficult considering his heart was beating out of his chest, as he thought of how you’d respond to what he was about to tell you.

“and then aran and kita told me-“

“[name], i-“ he interrupts you mid-sentence, but his voice got caught in his throat. he cursed himself for being so nervous, all he had to do was say the three words but nothing came out.

“yeah, what’s up?” you ask him, as you drink from your strawberry milk carton contentedly.

“i…umm… i have something to tell you,”

okay yes, good start. just tell her.

“okay…should i be worried?” you ask, starting to get concerned about how serious suna suddenly became.

you thought he’d been acting strange the past week, like how he’s been zoning out recently when speaking to you, or just staring strangely. you’re getting the vibe that somethings wrong with him. maybe he’s sick? maybe he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore? you have no clue what to think, so you chose to hear him out.

“no…well, maybe.”

he felt his hands getting clammy and nervously rubbed them on his trousers. his eyes darted everywhere, looking at everything in the room except back at your own expecting pair. he realised he’d been silent for too long - he needed to say something now.

“i have to tell you how much you mean to me. you might not realise it, but i’m obsessed with you. i think of you before i sleep, and you’re the first thing i think of when i wake up. you consume me, and i don’t know what i would do without you,” he blurted out, speaking so quickly you wouldn’t have been able to keep up if you weren’t listening so intently.

you sat there, stunned in silence. of all things he could’ve said to you, you certainly didn’t expect this. he took your silence as a signal to continue his speech.

“i need you in ways that surely can’t be healthy,” he chuckled, releasing a nervous breath.

“i-“

“you don’t have to accept it. i don’t expect you to tell me you feel the same, but i’d wait forever for you. if you want to be just friends then we will. but you have to tell me what to do. i like you so much. you can say you hate me. you can say you don’t feel the same. just tell me the truth.”

he couldn’t muster up the courage to look you in the eyes, so he kept his gaze trained to the ground, staring hard at the laces of his shoes.

“suna..” you started, forcibly sucking in a breath of air since you felt like all of it had been knocked out of your lungs.

“that’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me. thank you. i don’t now what i’d do without you either because i like you too,” you confessed as he rushed to hold you in his arms in a warm hug.

“thank God, i don’t know what i’d do if you rejected me,” he joked, covering up his anxiety with humour.

“i could never reject you,” you beamed at him in return. he felt his heart explode.

hopeless romantic! suna, who returned to last period that day with a smile from ear to ear, as he entered the classroom hand in hand with you by his side.

#suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna x you #suna x y/n #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarō #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro x y/n #fluff

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plumeria1 · 8 hours ago

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Painted Love

Note : Here's my new Vi x Reader. Hope you like it 😊 Pairing : Vi x painter Fem Reader

Content : Fluff

Warning : None

Summary : You made a surprise for Vi

It was finally there, the letter you had been waiting for was finally in your hands. Yet you couldn't bring yourself to open it, too worried about the response.

A few weeks ago, a friend of your mother's had seen some of your paintings. She said that you had a lot of talent and that you deserved to see your works exhibited.

Without telling you, she had contacted her friend Mel Medarda, a renowned gallery owner in the city, and sent her some of your paintings to exhibit in her gallery.

The day she told you, you had a little argument, but she told you to give your art a chance, and you were convinced.

Mel was supposed to send you a letter indicating what she thought of your works and if she wanted to exhibit them.

And since then you had been waiting, sometimes spending hours thinking and asking yourself a bunch of questions.

- Stop stressing, I'm sure it's a good news.

Vi, your girlfriend, sat next to you on the couch and watched you stare at the envelope. Vi had always been by your side since the day you met her in high school, through the time your father disowned you when you confessed that you were lesbian.

That day, Vi had never let go of your hand, in fact, after that, she never let it go again.

- I will always stay close to you, I will never abandon you.

That's what she had told you after confessing her feelings. You had never been happier than at that moment.

- And what if she didn't like it and found it horrible ?

- Don't say that, you are very talented and if she doesn't see it, it's because she's an idiot.

You handed her the envelope.

- Open it.

She laughs softly, shaking her head, her pink hair following the movement of her head.

- No way, it's your letter, you open it.

You knew she was saying that to get back at you, after all, you had said the same thing to her when she received her university letter to find out if she had gotten the sports scholarship she had applied for.

You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, pushing a long strand of hair behind your ear, you always did that when you were stressed. Vi had always found it adorable.

You slowly opened the envelope and read the letter carefully to make sure you understood its contents.

Vi watched you read, you furrowed your brows as if you couldn't believe what you were reading, and she saw your smile slowly grow.

- No way. I can't believe it !

- A problem ?

- No. Mel says she loved my paintings and wants to dedicate an entire exhibition to them. I have a week to give her my answer and if I say yes, the exhibition will be in six months.

- That's great, sweetie ! I knew you could do it.

You took her in your arms, crumpling the letter in the process, but you didn't pay attention to it. The question didn't even arise, of course you were going to accept.

The next day, you replied to Mel, saying that you accepted her proposal, and things seemed to move at lightning speed.

You spent hours in the workshop that Vi had set up for you in your apartment. Sometimes she had to come and get you to go to sleep, you grumbled just for show, but in reality, you loved falling asleep in her arms.

Sometimes she was curious to see what you were painting, and you let her look at each one except for the one you seemed to spend the most time on, which you covered with a sheet every time she came to see you.

You said it was the centerpiece of your exhibition and that no one but you had the right to see it.

Without you realizing it, six months had passed and the day of the exhibition had arrived. The room was crowded, and everyone present was looking at your paintings while chatting with glasses of champagne in hand.

You felt like you could hear the beating of your own heart, you kept fiddling with the long sleeves of your dress and looked around you.

A hand grasped yours and you found yourself face to face with Vi, who smiled gently at you.

- Everything will be fine stop worrying.

You held her hand and looked into her eyes, all your doubts disappearing like magic. Since you had known each other, she had always supported and encouraged you to the point of becoming your muse, even though you had never admitted it to her.

- I'm going to tell you something. I think I was waiting for this day almost as much as you were.

- How is that possible ?

- Because I was really looking forward to seeing that painting you didn't want to show me.

The sound of Mel's glass clinking silenced the entire room, and all eyes turned towards her, but especially towards the red velvet curtain hanging behind her.

- Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming today to attend the very first exhibition of this young artist who, as you may have seen, is very talented.

- It is now time to unveil the most beautiful piece of this exhibition. She signaled for you to come closer. You downed your champagne in one go and headed toward her.

- Good evening, thank you for coming. Before revealing this final painting to you, I would like to say a few words.

-First, I would like to thank Mrs. Medarda who organized this exhibition, but also my mother who has always encouraged me to paint.

-But there is someone I would like to thank more than anyone, it's my girlfriend Vi who has always been there for me in good times and also in bad. She was by my side every time I thought I wouldn't succeed, and it is thanks to her encouragement and her love that I am here today. She is my muse and she always will be.

You turned to her and smiled.

- So I really hope you like this painting.

- I painted this picture with my heart and put all my love into it. I called it "Passion."

When the curtain fell, revealing the portrait, the room remained silent for a brief moment that felt like an eternity before the applause began.

You could hear the people but you only looked at Vi. Her eyes were fixed on the portrait you had painted of her. She hadn't moved or said a word.

You slowly approached her.

- So, what do you think ? I've heard everyone's opinion except yours.

She turned to look at you.

- You painted me ?

- Yes, I wanted to immortalize everything I feel for you, and painting is what I do best, so I painted your portrait. You don't like it ?

- I love it, it's magnificent, I just don't know what to say, that's all.

She held you in her arms and kissed your forehead. But a question was on her mind.

- Why did you paint me as I was 16 ?

- Because that's what you looked like the first time I saw you and fell in love with you.

You kissed her gently. The rest of the evening passed quickly, you had spoken with almost everyone and had also kept Vi company.

People were starting to leave when Mel came to find you tell you one last thing.

- Congratulations ! Your paintings were very well received, you've already sold almost everything. Ther's a man who wants to buy Vi's portrait.

- It's not for sale.

Mel looked at you incredulously.

- I haven't told you the price he's willing to pay yet.

- It doesn't matter, it's not for sale.

- Very well, after all, it's your work.

Mel left with a small smile to announce that the painting was not for sale.

Later, you took the time to turn off the lights in the room and locked the door, then you saw Vi looking at you with curiosity. You raised an eyebrow.

- What ?

- Why didn't you accept ? You didn't even know how much he was offering.

-I don't care what price he would have put on it, I don't want a stranger to have a portrait of you in his house, who knows what he would do with it.

Vi laughed before placing her hands on your hips while you placed yours on her shoulders.

-Are you jealous ?

-Not at all, I'm in love.

You pulled her into a deep passionate kiss, then rested your forehead against hers with a smile.

- Anyway, even if he had the painting, you would still be the only one to possess the original.

- I certainly hope so.

After checking one last time that the door was properly closed, you took the hand Vi was offering you and you both headed home to get warm.

#arcane x reader #vi arcane #vi x reader #vi arcane x reader #vi fluff #vi x fem reader #violet x reader #lesbian

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blackgirlsloveburrow · 1 day ago

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NSFW 18+

joe burrow x uc student!reader has been on my mind so this is for my college babes

growing up in ohio, you never really would expect to be in a situation like this.

ohio has a few perks to it, but overall is mostly corn, dingy neighborhoods, and like three big cities.

so how did the top nfl quarterback end up in your bed?

it was kind of hard to look back on as your hangover hurt the harder you tried to think. at least he looked peaceful sleeping next to your hello kitty squishmallow.

shit.

"oh god this is so embarassing," you think out loud. all you remember is going to a dinky bar with your friends after lowkey bombing a history test and then...

oh. now you remember.

the kelces were in town last night. they were of course university of cincinnati alums, and joe burrow was along for their reunion tour. they did a whole interview in fifth third arena, that you got to miss of course because you were crying in your pillow over american history. afterwards they decided to visit the small college bar for the nostalgia, and that's where you saw him and he saw you.

joe was so hot.

everyone was freaking out, you as well on the inside, but you decided to order another vodka cran instead of gathering around them like the rest of the bar was. it was your third drink of the night, so you were definitely feeling it to say the least.

after a while the hype started to die down, and you felt a towering body right next to yours. you looked over and see:

him.

"hey. i'm joe," he said with an awkward smile on his face, sticking out his hand.

you don't feel super nervous, as you had enough liquid courage in your system to form a sentence.

"hi i'm y/n and i definitely know who you are," you laughed and reciprocated his handshake. your friends were behind you freaking out. you cringed a bit.

"i see you're with your friends, but i was wondering if you'd want to come with me to a more private bar? i have a driver out back and i can meet you out there so we don't cause a scene or anything" he said.

okay you definitely drank too much because now you must be hearing things.

"sure! i mean yes haha," you replied, trying to control your excitement.

"cool i'll see you out there y/n".

he walked away. your friends came from behind you, pestering you for the details of you and joe's interaction.

"he just asked how i was doing guys that's all. i do think i am going to head out though. i have to wake up early tomorrow," you told them. it was a pretty solid lie as they just pouted and said their goodbyes.

you made your way through the crowd towards the back door of the bar. someone, probably security, was at the back door and asked for your name. you gave it to them and you walked outside. there were two sleek black cars. one for joe, and one for the kelces. the kelces were still inside, reveling in their hometown glory, so you guessed it would be just you and joe.

the driver opened the door for you and you slid inside. your beat up honda had nothing on this vehicle. you and joe both said hey and he offered you a drink. and who are you to say no to a free drink?

you took it and the driver started going towards your destination. joe asked you questions about yourself and what brought you to the bar that night. you give him details and also embarrassingly told him you flunked a history test.

he laughed, talking about his college experiences and himself as well.

you finished your drink as you both arrived at the bar.

it was really nice. definitely a bar they don't let just anyone go into. luckily you were wearing a slightly cute dress.

joe took your hand as you exited the car. your face got hot at the gesture (or maybe it was the alcohol) and he walked you inside.

he led you to the bar where you guys both ordered some drinks and he started a tab. you guys talked for a while, getting closer and closer with each drink.

"you know i think football is kinda boring," you said without thinking, the alcohol taking over your conversation skills.

"you just have to get to know it better, like how i'm getting to know you better," he replied speaking closely to you.

"you should come to one of my games sometimes," he added.

"i would love to! but only if i can get a ja'marr chase jersey," you joked to him.

"totally not funny, you'd look way better with my name and number on your back," he responded defensively.

before you could respond you heard one of your favorite songs to dance too.

"oh my god! i love this song. come dance with me," you said as you pulled him to the dance floor.

you started swaying your hips to the rhythm of the song with him behind you. he matched your rhythm, putting his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to his hard on. you felt it on your lower back, surprised, and starting to get turned on.

the song finished and you turn around. he grabbed your neck and kissed you. you grabbed the back of his hair and stuck your tongue in his mouth. he kissed you like you were giving him oxygen to breathe.

this led you two out of the club towards the black vehicle, not being able to keep your hands off of each other. you requested to go to your apartment by your college since it's close. and joe just wanting to be inside of you didn't care to object.

you and joe continue to make out in the car. you are rubbing his hard on while he is making hickeys on your neck and grabbing your boobs.

you guys finally got to your apartment, thanked the driver (and probably traumatized him as well), and made your way inside.

you and him rushed to the bedroom, where you and joe immediately started to strip.

joe laid you on the bed where he started to eat you out.

"oh f-fuck joe," you moaned. he sucked your clit, gripping your thighs so that you wouldn't get away from him.

you grabbed his hair, pushing him more into you, which made him grunt in response. he continued pleasuring you for a while.

"i-i'm gonna cum," you whined. this made him get up, kiss you, and flip you over.

"fuck baby you are so wet for me. i wanted to cum just from eating you out," he replied, breathing heavily.

he pulled your ass up into the air, his cock lining up with your hole.

"i want you to cum with me baby," he moans, sticking his girth slowly in your cunt.

oh my god he was so big.

it felt like he was splitting you open in the best way possible. he immediately was hitting your g-spot, having you moan so loud your whole building could probably hear.

he was moaning too, and was gripping your ass so hard as he pulled you into him with deep, hard strokes.

"fuck your little pussy is so perfect baby, he moaned loudly.

you were clawing at your bed sheets, loving how vocal he was too.

"oh daddy i'm gonna cum, oh my god!" you scream. he pulled out, flipping you over again, and reentered you.

"i wanna see your face when you cum for me," he huffs. he's holding your thighs up, fucking you deeper and harder than before. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you released. he soon followed releasing deep inside of you.

he kissed you. you reciprocated but were quick to fall into a deep sleep, and so was he.

it was an eventful night.

so now that you remember...

you put on an oversized tee and went into the kitchen to make some breakfast. you are pretty much in your own world, thinking about last nights events, until you hear joe walking down the hallway. he has his clothes on. he looks at you sheepishly.

"hey, so i really had a good time last night," he said to you.

"so did i," you replied smiling.

"i hate to do this but i kinda have to go. my manager called and i'm kind of late to a meeting," he says a little embarrassed.

you're face looks disappointed.

"but-," he adds. "here's my number. please call me. i really want to see you again and have you in my jersey in the stands like i talked about last night".

"i would love that," you reply, mood brightening already.

he moves into kiss you passionately, and then leaves.

how are you just supposed to go back to school monday now?

#cincinnati bengals #joe burrow #nfl #bengals #jb9

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cappuccinoandglitter · 2 days ago

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[I restarted this this morning and the muse actually did latch on so this will be a full-length thing now and I'll post it when it's done. But here's the intro, per the prompt above. I think this is all because I missed out on the Ren Faire last year and I miss it.]

Tommy Kinard grins broadly at the gold dollar coins the patron deposits in his hand. While most of the 'tourists' coming to the Renaissance Faire pay with dollar bills or even 'Master Card or Lady Visa', a few of the old timers and die-hards come prepared from the bank with actual dollar coins. These days you have to order them special, so he admires the commitment to the bit. He bounces the coins a little in his hand, enjoying the clinking metal sound, the weight of them, and then puts them in the register. "Howie, one Seafoam for the gentleman," he calls over his shoulder.

His business partner, Howie Han, already with a pint glass in hand, starts pouring from the tap. "Aye, m'lord! Comin' right up!" he replies in an exaggerated Irish brogue, which sounds all the more surprising coming from a Korean man.

Tommy chuckles. The tavern at the heart of the Faire has been doing really well since he took over five years ago. Back then, he wasn't sure the gamble would pay off, but so far, it has. He never saw himself as a front-of-the-house guy before, preferring to focus on the brewing process and the business side of it. But putting on his 'innkeeper' garb every Saturday and Sunday morning works like any uniform, putting him in a mindset he wouldn't normally be in. In his brown breeches and dark green shirt with the lace-up collar he leaves untied, he kind of feels in character, even if he doesn't actually have a character to play.

He pulls a washcloth from the pocket of his apron and starts wiping down the counter between customers. The current crowd is an even mixture of 'rennies', the regulars who dress up in period-accurate garb and usually purchase season passes so they can spend every weekend here, and the tourists in their street clothes.

And someone he recognizes. "Hey, Miss May," he says, smiling at the young woman. She's in what some call 'closet garb', a long skirt and peasant blouse that straddle the gap between modern clothes and costuming. "What can I get for you?"

"Scotch eggs are coming out of the frier in a minute," Howie tells her.

Tommy winces. He hates those things.

"Oh, no thanks," May Grant says. "Can I have an apple cider?"

"Absolutely!" Tommy says. While Howie is busy retrieving the Scotch eggs from the frier, Tommy pours May's drink and charges her only half the regular cost.

"Thanks, Tommy!" She takes her drink and wanders to an unoccupied table.

"Who's here for the Scotch eggs!" Howie crows.

"All right!" "Me!" come the various responses. A pair of tourists buy two eggs a piece and mill around for a moment, before zeroing in on May's table.

Tommy frowns, but just watches. Maybe she knows them. But the line for the eggs keeps growing, demanding his full attention, distracting him from what's happening at May's table until he hears her voice, raised slightly above the din. "I'm sorry, but you're invading my personal space!" Her table sits by the wall, and it looks like they're blocking her escape.

"Hey!" Tommy shouts, coming around the bar to intercept.

"We're just making conversation," one of the men say. He's clearly been trolling the festival grounds buying alcoholic beverages at every available opportunity, because he's well past the point Tommy would have served him anything.

"Yeah, my guy, we're jus' bein' fren-frenly," his companion slurs, and puts a hand on Tommy's shoulder.

Tommy reacts before thinking, knocking the hand off his shoulder and twisting it behind the man's back. "There's such a thing as too friendly."

"Ow! Ow! You're hurting me!" the man whines. Not such a big guy now.

The other guy seems to decide this is a bar fight now, but before he can get a blow in, a gauntlet grabs on to his forearm and holds him back. "My lords!" the knight booms theatrically. "Do you have any idea who the lady's mother is? If ye do not wish to face the wrath of Pirate Queen Athena herself, you will leave this establishment now."

Tommy looks at the knight, and his entire body freezes in place. There's no shortage of good looking actors on the cast, and Tommy is sure this guy is part of the cast, even if he hasn't seen him before. No mere rennie would have this kind of stage presence. Or know who May's mom is.

"Now, apologize to the lady," the knight says. His hair is a slightly sweaty mess of brown curls, and his eyes are a piercing sky blue, but Tommy's gaze keeps getting drawn to the lips that are on the redder side of pink and look like they would feel so soft against his own.

"Ow?" says the guy in Tommy's grasp that Tommy somehow managed to completely forget he was still holding onto.

Tommy tears his gaze away from the knight and lets the tourist go. "Yes, apologies are in order," he says. He can't do an accent to save his life, so he doesn't try.

The two men give May meek 'sorrys', and Tommy shoves the one against the other on the way out the door.

May looks fine, if a little shaken. "Thanks, Tommy," she says. "Thank you, Sir Evan." She says the last with a little smile and curtsy.

'Sir Evan' gives a small bow. "If you'll excuse me, I must escort these villains out of the shire." So he's going to make sure they get booted out of the faire entirely, good.

Tommy watches the knight walk away, briefly admiring the curve of his ass in his breeches.

Renaissance faire meet cute between tavern owner Tommy ("I brewed this ale myself") and a knight ("Sir Evan" he introduces himself as; only later does Tommy hear "Buck" but it's too late, he's registered that cute knight with the bisexual color flag as Evan in his head)

A couple of drunk faire attendants try to harass Tommy's friend's teen daughter and he steps in, and Buck steps in too. Two big strapping guys tend to convince people to back off, especially when one is built like a tank and the other is literally armored

Tommy gives Buck a free mug of ale, and they talk, and throughout the day Buck keeps coming back to the tavern and Tommy watches Buck at the joust

And instead of a girl's handkerchief as a favor, Buck takes the checkered handkerchief in Tommy's apron as his favor and ties it around his wrist

Buck wins the joust and canters over, hopping down to wink at Tommy, then kissing the piece of cloth around his wrist. Tommy can't help leaning over the fence to kiss Sir Evan for real.

#911 fanfic #fanfic teaser #bucktommy #tevan #tevan fanfiction #AU where they're all working at the Ren Faire #inspired by PA Ren Faire

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mysterymachine9 · 2 days ago

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Dean Winchester x gn!reader

Summary: He needs your help to cum/ can’t get himself to 😞

NSFW. Minors DNI. Not proof read ❌

Hi 😁

Uhhh

Dean was propped up on the bed. Legs spread slightly and tangled in a blanket while his hand work quickly on his cock. Soft grunts filled the dim lit room. Along with the squelching sound that was made when his hand collected more of the leaking pre from his tip.

He couldn’t get himself to cum. No matter what he did. He tried thinking of you, what you’d do or say if you were in the room with him. But it didn’t work, because it wasn’t really you. He didn’t want to bother you either. That is due to you working on finding more lore on this new creature non of you can explain. And that’s important. But he needed you. Needed you in so many ways he couldn’t explain.

Moving his hips, he tried to get some relief. It didn’t work. All he continued to get was this dull, pleasurable feeling. And it wasn’t enough.

He groaned frustratingly, putting his head back. A call wouldn’t hurt, right? Maybe all he needed was the sound of your voice. But then his mind roamed and soon enough dropped that idea. He moved his hand again—starting to thumb at his tip. It worked for a few seconds, a moan slipping past his lips. Dean moved his hips into his hand, thumb starting to do quick circles. The face he was making at the moment, oh, he knew you’d enjoy it.

His stomach tightened, and for a moment he thought he’d actually get to cum. But for some reason he still couldn’t. So he let his hand drop and his head go back once again. “God damn it.” He breathed out, chest moving up and down quickly as his other hand reached for his phone. He wasn’t gonna walk out of his room with a boner. Calling you is easier.

Dean worked quick to find your contact. Immediately clicking on it, calling you, and putting it onto his ear once it started ringing.

Meanwhile, you were deep into the lore of this mysterious thing. Trying to figure out what it was and how to kill it. Just as you went to turn the page your phone buzzed against the table. You picked it up looking at the contact name first. It glowed the name “Dean”. Rolling your eyes you answered it, putting it up to your ear.

“Dean?” You question, because what could possibly be so important at the moment other than the lore on this thing?

And oh, just the sound of your voice nearly made him cum right then and there. “I need your help.” Dean said sounding like he just ran a marathon. He hoped that you’d comply.

“With?”

“Personal problem.”

Sighing, you made sure to keep the book open to the page you left off at. You mumbled the words that he just said quietly to yourself. Questioning what it meant. Then it clicked. You put the small pieces you had together. “I’ll be there in a moment.” You say, biting back a small smile and waiting until you heard something till you hung up. And all you heard was a quiet ‘okay’.

Getting up from your seat, you grabbed everything you needed. Then started your walk to his room. Dean was growing inpatient with every minute you took. But when you opened the door he got so damn excited.

When you saw the situation you quickly got into the room and shut the door behind you. “So this was your ‘personal problem’, huh?” You asked, pretending as if you didn’t know. You set the few things you had on you on his dresser, then made your way to the bed and stood at the foot of it. God, he looked pathetic. A man that many people and monsters fear, right at the palm of your hand. Lying on the bed waiting for you to do something. Your eyes roamed his body. Admiring him.

“Gonna keep staring or what?” Dean asked, impatiently. “I’m gonna take my time.” You replied while moving over to the side of the bed. He watched every move you made. Especially when you moved onto the bed, and soon enough onto him. You sat atop his thighs, hand on one side of his face. Leaning in to kiss him while your other hand moved to drag down his chest.

Dean leaned in—one hand going to your hip while the other was up on your side. You pulled away from his lips; catching your breath. The hand that was on his stomach moved lower and lower till you met his cock. He watched you for a moment, but when he realized you weren’t gonna give him what he wanted that easily, he moved his face into the side of your neck. Placing kisses everywhere he could reached.

“Come on, please. I waited as long as I could.” Dean whispered, and you could tell that he was being truthful. Based on the way he sounded on the phone and how he looked right now. And so you gave him what he needed. Wrapping your hand around his cock, and slowly starting to pump your hand.

He pressed himself more into your shoulder than neck—trying to keep himself quiet. Your hand that was on the side of his face moved to the back of his head. And his hands on you only tightened.

When you tightened your grip and went quicker, Dean’s hands went fully around you. Arms locking around your body. He moved his head down to look at the way your hand moved around his cock. Your other hand coming down to put feather like touches on his tip with your finger.

In response, he gasped and shut his mouth before he could moan loudly. “C’mon, Dean, lemme hear you.” You whispered as you replaced your finger with your thumb. Spreading his pre while you rubbed his tip quickly; applying pressure to add on to the overwhelming feeling. He rolled his hips, wanting more and more. You pressed a few kisses on his shoulder before pulling away. An idea striking your mind.

You wanted to hear him. To hear the prettiest moans and whimpers fall from his lips. But he kept himself hidden in your neck. So you pulled a hand away, wiping the pre you had on you on the bed. An issue for another time. Then reached for the hairs down by his neck. Pulling them.

You weren’t pulling too hard, but hard enough for him to come out of hiding. And when he was finally out, you slowed down the hand that was on his cock. Hearing a huff once you did. He must’ve been close.

Dean didn’t beg. But if he had to beg to get what he needed, he’d do just that.

“Baby, please—can I cum?” He swallowed the spit that formed in his mouth, then continued. “I can’t wait any longer, please.” And that did just it. You decided to give in, have mercy on the poor man. You don’t know how long he’d been trying to get himself to cum before calling you. So, with you being generous, started to pump your hand again quickly. Hearing a small whine leave his throat and echo in the room. Dean shut his eyes, and when he heard your praise and words he almost came. “So good for me, aren’t you? Waited as long as you could before giving me a call.” You said, softly.

And when he bucked his hips with a whimper you knew that was the only warning you were getting. Hot spurts of cum shot from his cock and onto his chest. Panting and moans being the only thing that stopped the room from being silent.

You kept your hand going, helping him through the aftershocks of cumming. Only pulling away when he sucked in a breath from the rising pain. “Thank you.” Dean breathed out, sounding fulfilled. “Of course.” You replied moving in to kiss his lips.

“Now, since I’ve helped you, will you help me and Sam read these books about these damn things?” You asked, laughing when Dean groaned and let his head fall to your shoulder.

#f!reader #gn!reader #m!reader #supernatural #bottom dean winchester #dean winchester #dean winchester x male reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #sub character #sub Dean #dean x reader #dean winchester x gn!reader #x reader

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obsessedhoneycomb · 5 hours ago

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Unplanned

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: High school sweethearts having the best time of their life, when everything seems so perfect. But sometimes, things don’t go as we plan them.

Warnings: angst, unwanted pregnancy, some curse words, a bit of sadness (but it gets better, I promise!)

A/N: I had a dream earlier this week, so it’s based on it. I don’t know how I feel about it (I read it nearly ten times, it’s fine, I guess.), personally I don’t think that George would act like he did in the beginning of this fic, so take it as a part of the plot. I have some ideas for possible part two, but who knows if I make it happen.

Please don’t use my writings without my permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

———

Young and naive love, that’s all they’ve always said when they saw you and George intertwined with each other every time you walk through the paddock. Meeting at high school, you knew he was the one, and his thing about racing, it was something that attracted you even more.

You always loved to ruffle his hair before the driver’s parade, just to make him grumpy, because he spent so much time fixing his wave of golden brown locks. The way he could make you smile, his warm embrace giving you peace and comfort, the days you enjoyed in the countryside with your families because your parents simply knew each other.

It was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

George’s move to F1 was sure, his dreams coming true, he couldn’t be more happy and motivated to push himself to the limits more. On the other hand, you just found out the horrible thing.

Walking through the paddock in Brazil, you fought the nausea, as you held onto George’s hand. You tried to tell him, but you were interrupted by someone or something every time. He noticed your strange behaviour, your pale face.

“Are you well, love?” He suddenly stopped to get a better look at you, leaning down closer to you.

This was your only chance to say it. “George, I’m pregnant.”

Your whispered words nearly gave him a heart attack.

“You’re- what?”

“You heard me. I don’t want to yell it here.” Your hand went to his cheek, the warmth of his skin seeping into your palm, bringing you comfort for your nerves.

George just stood there, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. He grabbed your hand only to push it from his face away.

“We’re gonna talk about this later. I need to focus on the race.”

Your heart broke in your chest. Yeah, you thought just for a moment that he would be happy. But it was far from ideal.

———

George was pacing around the hotel room, while you sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with your fingers.

“How could it happen? We were so careful, you on the pill and we were using protection.. how?”

“That time in the summer, when I was sick and taking antibiotics, that night on the yacht, when we weren’t sober..”

“Holy shit…”

“George, look, I know it’s not easy, it’s not perfect timing right now, but we can do it.”

“Are you crazy? We’re twenty. You can’t be serious about this.”

“What? So you want to give it up? Get rid of it?”

George pinched the bridge of his nose, getting frustrated and hopeless.

“I can’t take care of the baby now. I’m gonna drive in F1 next season, it’s a big thing for me and I’m not ready to be a father. I don’t have an energy for the act of loving family.”

That was enough for you to bring you to the tears. Your hand went down at your stomach, sign of protective love for the small bundle growing inside you.

George hasn’t single clue what to do in that moment. He just stared into the wall, his mind blank, feeling like his world just shattered.

“I’m sorry I can’t fit into your image of fairytale life.”

And with that he walked out of the hotel room.

Also it was a very last moment he saw you for a very very long time…

———

“George and babies! What a cute sight!”

“He should be a dad! Baby suits him!”

“Make him a daddy already!”

“Oh, what a father figure!”

You did a great job for those past six years to be away from media and spotlight. After that day you saw George last, you never looked back. Maybe it was selfish. But his opinion on the situation was clear. He didn’t want a baby.

“Mom, I said that I have to pee. Are you listening to me?”

The voice of your son William interrupted your thoughts, while you were scrolling through your instagram for the first time in the past years. Brushing your annoyance by those comments aside, you looked at Will with soft smile.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I’ll wait here for you, just go to the restrooms there.” You pointed to the direction and Will just rushed there.

When he was about four years old, he came across the idea of karting. You were strictly against it, but after his teacher in the kindergarten was done with his ultimate rant about formula and racing, you just took him to the first lesson and that was a start. Yeah, of course you were scared, not much about George possibly finding out, spotting you, but about Will’s safety. But you cannot expect someone with strong racing genes to be interested in being a scientist.

While you were waiting for your son to come back, you haven’t noticed the buzz around the circuit, signalling the famous person appearing around. You grabbed small helmet and looked at it with soft smile, brushing your thumb over it.

“Mom! You need to see this! Mom! C’mon!”

Will was calling you from the small group of kids, his voice full of excitement and joy. You raised your brows with amused smile, when he was excited about something, he just couldn’t brush it off.

As you took a few steps closer to him, you were curious about what was everybody so ecstatic about.

“That’s George Russell, mom!”

At that name your blood ran cold. Oh no.

“Will, how do you know him?”

“Jeez mom, everybody around knows him! He used to race here as a kid. He’s cool!”

Well, it was inevitable.

Her eyes carefully found George, seeing him interacting with the youngsters. He looked good, more mature and composed. Also his hairstyle was different, giving him a manly touch. Wrinkles around his eyes were still the same, but more apparent, when he smiled. And his eyes.. god, they were the same mesmerising blue colour.

Will left her standing there, getting through the small crowd of kids, to get his signature from him.

“Mr. Russell? George. Can you please sign this? You’re my inspiration.”

His small teeth appearing in grin as he gave George his cap. George’s eyes fell onto him, smiling cheerfully as he signed the cap.

“Just call me George, I’m not much formal person, when it comes to kids. I want to be friendly, because I know how exciting is to meet your idol.”

William’s eyes were glowing with happiness as he held the now signed cap.

“You’re amazing! Thank you.”

George smiled at the boy, watching him running to his mom. It was strange, because he looked familiar. His smile faded as he saw you, looking down at the boy with proud smile.

“Mom! I’m so happy, look!”

Will was excited, nearly jumping on the spot from it.

“I never saw you this happy. Guess it was worth it.” You smiled at him, ruffling his hair.

Without another look at George, you walked to prepare Will for karting session. You thought that he hasn’t noticed you.

George stood afar, watching the kids getting ready, but giving his main attention to you and your son. Will was already giving you hard time with his rolling eyes, sighs and “of course, mom”. While you wore your worried face, furrowing brows there and there, kissing him on his forehead and then fastening his small helmet securely.

When the session started, you moved to the sidelines, watching the circuit with heavy heart and tightness in chest.

“He’s a natural talent, I must say.”

The well known deep voice made you froze in place, your palms sweaty and your throat dry. Carefully, you turned to look at George.

“He is. I can’t keep him calm for a moment straight.”

Trying to hold your voice steady, you looked back at the track. George took a place beside her, doing the same.

“It’s been a long time.”

The ridiculous situation made you chuckle.

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“Yeah, me too.”

The silence between you was thick as hell. Both of you had your own reels of thoughts in your minds.

“I often thought about meeting you again one day. What would I say to you. And I’m saying I’m sorry.”

You lifted your gaze at him, feeling surprised but somehow deeply satisfied.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. I was a total jerk back then. I should’ve acted more like an adult, I hurt you.”

The pain of the past years hit you like a train, while you just nodded.

“It’s strange seeing you happy now. You’re a caring mom, from what I saw. I guess the father must be proud too.”

That was the moment you snorted a little, making him confused.

“Look, George… I… I’m sorry too. We were young and it was a little selfish from me to want you to take responsibility.”

“We should’ve talk about it more that day. It’s one of the few things I regret in my life.”

“Well… I’m sorry that I disappeared. But I was so sad, hurt and scared, that I was sure that I need to do things alone. And I did a damn good job.”

George frowned a little, turning his head to look at you.

“William is six years old by the way.”

You said with sigh, locking your eyes with his. At first he didn’t understand. Then, it clicked in his brain. Pointing to track and gasping in shock, his eyes went wide. You just nodded.

Silence was deafening, while George collapsed at the nearby bench, sitting there speechless.

“William? You named him William?”

You took a seat beside him with soft hum.

“Holy fuck. I’m so shocked.”

“I’m sorry. You would find out sooner or later. And now I’ll be a fool. Fooling you, my parents, your parents, but mostly Will. I told him that his father and I broke up before his birth. He didn’t question it.”

George shook violently, running his hands through his hair.

“You kept this for yourself for many years. You kept the baby. Oh my god.. I missed so much. Six years.”

“I loved you and it hurt, I hadn’t had the heart to get an abortion. And I don’t regret that decision.”

He took your hand in his, the distant warmth of his touch seeping into your skin, making you smile.

“I want to be present in his life. I want to get to know him, to give him everything I could. I want to be a father I should’ve been.”

Your smile grew wide, tears glistening in your eyes.

“Sure, but it’ll take time. I need to reveal it to him carefully. I might be on the black list for a while, but he’d be over the moon, that George Russell is his dad.”

George let out a soft laugh, his voice shaky.

“I’ll take any time in the world. I’ll make it worth it. I won’t disappoint him. I won’t disappoint you.”

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melonlord98 · 2 days ago

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Love That Waits: Chapter 1 - Rhea

Summary:

"He had the type of smile that seemed to increase the light in a room when it reached his eyes. Brown eyes. Deep brown eyes that seemed to become molten when he spoke fondly of something. Though she rarely saw him speak much at all since she met him. She was surprised at her own attentiveness in that moment. When the fuck had she started to notice Jey Uso?"

A character study of the romantic relationship between Rhea Ripley and Jey Uso, through their eyes and the eyes of the people who love them. Starting from Smackdown 2023 to the present day. Somewhat kayfabe compliant, but also putting my own little spin on the most interesting love story in the WWE Universe!

These chapters are all written in third person, so if that bothers you, I'm sorry 😢. The first two chapters will be exploring Rhea and Jey's emotional states as individuals, but from the third chapter onward, each chapter will be split between both of them equally. With bonus chapters from the perspectives of Damian Priest, Jimmy Uso, Sami Zayn, and many others as they watch the relationship between Jey and Rhea blossom.

I will warn everyone in advance. This story is the textbook definition of slow burn and it will also not be including explicit smut. If anything sexual happens between the characters, it'll be more of a "fade to black" type vibe.

I wanted to write this fic to explore how Rhea and Jey truly fell in love with each other as they navigate through their own individual traumas. And since this story begins around 2023, I will admit that Rhea and Jey are not in the best place emotionally early on. So, be warned, "Fluff" is tagged, but it's not coming for a while 🤣.

My hope is to have a new chapter uploaded every week on Wednesday. This is my first fic and I hope you all enjoy! Please feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

Btw, all the chapters will be posted on AO3 as well if you prefer to view it there 😊!

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April 18, 2023

The shrill chirp of her alarm was what woke her. She leaned back, her arm sliding away from the slim contour of Dom’s waist as she fumbled to grasp the device. Cursing as it nearly fell off the nightstand. Rhea grunted as she pulled her other arm free from under her lover’s head, narrowly managing to catch her phone as it forcefully separated from the charging chord. She flinched back at the brightness of the screen and stamped the alarm off before tossing it onto the armchair just beside the nightstand. Sitting up dully, her shoulders sagged at the weight of what she now acknowledged was a rapidly growing hangover. Her head ached and she hissed as a sharp thread of pain shot from between her eyebrows and spread to the base of her skull.

“Fucking, Damian.” She groaned, falling heavily back onto the pillows, with her forearm falling over her eyes. Somehow a room shielded by blackout curtains was still too bright. They had gone out the night before with the Bloodline to celebrate the beginning of their alliance. She wasn’t usually the most overzealous drinker. She typically left those duties to Damian and Dominik, but something about that night had just felt right and so she had indulged them. Fuck was that a mistake.

A throb, just barely there, began to pulse at the right corner of her forehead and she cursed again. She’d swear off drinking if it weren’t so damn numbing. The thought was interrupted, however, by the sharp snort from the man laying next to her. She laughed low in her throat, wincing as action went straight to her aching forehead. Dom was a rather enthusiastic sleeper with a likely undiagnosed case of sleep apnea. Any other person would have been rudely awakened throughout the night by the sheer volume of his snores, but Rhea, who lived in a constant state of bottomless fatigue, often slept with a deepness just on the cusp of death. A match made in heaven (or hell, perhaps some would say).

Turning onto her side, she reached out to stroke delicately at the hair cascading over his ear. She was amused at the state of him. His body was turned away from her, but his neck was tipped back rather awkwardly and his mouth seemed to follow, hanging out to the side as he continued to snore. Her eyes scanned him lazily, stopping occasionally to scrutinize the dark spots on his purple silk pajama top from the steady steam of saliva that dribbled off his lip. A man who sleeps as immaturely as he lives awake. Rhea shook her head fondly at the thought. Her fingers continuing to stroke her fingers absentmindedly through his hair as she fell face first into the usual cogitations.

Her mind drifted to the previous year, the thought of her new beginning. How she and Damian had betrayed Edge and welcomed Finn. There was always something about it that never sat right with her. They had done everything right. She believed that. Edge had never deserved their patronage and so they outgrew him. Yet, it still haunted her. Even as she, surrounded by her two closest friends, had looked down at her old mentor and laughed in his face, that look in his eyes had remained imprinted in her mind. Betrayal. One in what had become a disturbing pattern. Her mind flitted to Raquel, her first loss. Her partner that had chosen everyone else over her. And Liv, a dead weight she had needed to shed the way a snake sheds its old skin; reborn in new, more vibrant color. Friendships she had sacrificed to become better. She was in the right. Edge had reassured her in the beginning. Damian too. She had needed to be selfish. She deserved to be! She was right—

Dom suddenly shifted in his sleep and Rhea jerked her hand back in alarm. His body rolled back toward her, realigning with his head and he smacked his lips before settling back into his usual snores. Not yet awake. Rhea stared at him and she could feel that familiar coldness in her chest. She cowered away from it. Throwing her legs off the side of the bed and nearly falling over herself as she made her way into the bathroom.

The pulsing forehead spread back into her hairline and she sucked air sharply through her nose as she felt bile rising in her throat. She fought against it, knocking her knuckles against the carved marble of the bathroom sink. The bathroom went pitch black as the door slid shut behind her. She couldn’t see anything and yet she felt stripped naked. Her skin hot, yet damp from sweat. As if she had been laying on hot coals. It was always like this when she thought of them. The memory of her many lost friendships like a disease that clung to the darkest parts of her. Parts she had layered over with molten rock and steel. She had made herself a blade, to protect against the reminders of her own past heartbreaks. However, it was moments like these where she felt like a snake eating its own tail.

Edge had told her that to be warm and embrace comfort was weakness. You could never get too comfortable. He did. So she and Damian had showed him the fruits of his labor as they usurped him. Rocking back onto her heels, she flailed for the switch and nearly fell when the white light of the mirror hit her square in the face. Her eyes burned with it, but the pain of the headache had dulled. An old pain replaced with a new one. A cycle she knew well. She could sleep, but she never rested.

She was able to blink as her eyes slowly adjusted and she finally caught sight of herself in the mirror. As she looked on, she realized that the dampness she had felt on her cheeks had not been sweat but were tears. The wet onslaught had flowed past her chin, soaking the collar of her t-shirt with a pale layer of foundation she had forgotten to remove the night before in her drunken state. Rhea sighed before turning her eyes down and flipped on the sink. She watched curiously as the water pooled in the cup of her hands before shoving it across her face. Repeating the process a couple more times before placing her hands on the counter and leaning fully over the sink. The harsh gush of the faucet a welcome buffer to the never-ending whirring that went on in her head.

For a while, she just stood and breathed. The yelling chorus of voices in her head eventually came down to a more gentle stage whisper. This allowed her to move her attention to something much more important than her many past lives. She needed coffee! With two harsh pats to her cheeks, Rhea straightened her back and shed her clothes.

The chill of the hotel hallway could be felt even through the thick cotton of her hoodie as she made her way down to the lobby. This hotel was not as nice as the other ones they stayed at in the much larger cities. This hotel chain’s buildings were always old, but now haphazardly disguised with a new coat of a rather jarring orange and baby blue paint combo whose ugliness Damian often bitched about during his hangover-fueled breakfast rants. He was a surprisingly chipper alcoholic on the morning after a long night of indulgence. Grumpy, but eloquent. Rhea would typically call him in the mornings and they would eat breakfast as a duo, since Finn and Dominik was particularly unpleasant if not allowed to rise of their own accord. This morning, however, she didn’t feel that she had the patience to deal with what Rhea knew would be a good-natured parental lecture about how she “actively suppressed her negative feelings”. Followed closely by an accusation of taking it out on her boyfriend who was no where near as strong as she was. Damian could do it later, once Rhea had been filled with a minimum of three cups of heavily sweetened coffee.

She stopped in her tracks just as she turned the corner into the lobby at the sight of a familiar face (or back rather). Jey Uso’s silhouette was hard to miss and she would be lying if she said she hadn’t snuck a handful of curious peaks backstage. He had his back to her, his arms hung bare through the cropped sleeves of his shirt and she could see the slight curve at the bottom of his spine that peaked out from the slit in the equally cropped bottom of his t-shirt. Her eyes moved back to the tattooed contours of his arms, the intricate line work shifting and bending with every minute flex. Art in motion. Rhea was always one to appreciate the artistry of a good tattoo. She and Jey had chatted enthusiastically at the club the night before about their many tattoos, though much of the conversation now only existed in jumbled scraps throughout her memory. His face had been so bright then. He had the type of smile that seemed to increase the light in a room when it reached his eyes. Brown eyes. Deep brown eyes that seemed to become molten when he spoke fondly of something. Though she rarely saw him speak much at all since she met him. She was surprised at her own attentiveness in that moment. When the fuck had she started to notice Jey Uso?

Rhea thought back to all the months before. All the confrontations, but nothing really stood out until yesterday. She’d known of him, but she didn’t know him. Even now, in the infancy of this new alliance. Last night was the first time she’d actually spoken to him outside of provoking him to Super Kick her in the ring. She looked at him wholly now. The coffee long forgotten as she pondered him. Apparently, this was a morning of way too much thought. But she’d worry about that later. Something about him drew her in. Made her want to know more as she continued to watch him prepare his breakfast. Now, leaning lazily against the counter as he waited for a paper cup to fill with orange juice. Rhea pondered Jey Uso’s appearance. His hair, his skin, his tattoos, his build. Once again, she had to admit that he was nice to look at.

However, that was never what truly interested her about him. There was a heat to him. Something buried so deep, yet burned so bright that you could narrowly manage to avoid getting scorched by it. A longing for something that she didn’t think she’d ever be able to figure out without asking him herself; something she’d never even dream of doing.

Rhea was brought out of her contemplation by the stiff jerk of Jey’s hand as he thrust it into his pocket. She looked on as he glanced around warily before pulling a small pill orange bottle out of his pocket. He hastily popped the white cap and levied the a couple tabs into his palm before tossing his head back and quickly downing the contents of his cup to chase it. Prescriptions from the looks of it. Considering who he fell under, she wouldn’t be too surprised if it was anxiety medication.

Jey bowed his head as he swallowed, the muscles of his back tensing under the thin black layer of his t-shirt. But it was his hand that truly caught her eye. The one not gripping the pill bottle lay open. She could see the patchwork of callouses that decorated the weathered skin there. But to her surprise, his hand was shaking rather violently. From the tips of his fingers to the curve of his shoulder. His whole body taught and coiled like a snake, poised to strike at the first sign of a threat. As her eyes made their way about him, she came to the unnerving realization that his feet were no longer facing away from her and when her head snapped up she was met eye to eye with him. The swiftness with which Jey moved had been what startled her initially, but her focus quickly pivoted to his eyes. No, what hid behind them. Or rather what didn’t. There was nothing there. A calculated emptiness. They both remained anchored in place. She wasn’t afraid to move nor was she afraid of him, but something was keeping her there. Something was keeping him there. Looked in at the eyes, but neither spoke. What was there to say anyway? Any individual with a single modicum of intelligence would tell you that it would be ill-advised to speak to someone who looked you the way that Jey was now. Like an animal. If he had gun it would be drawn. The empty heat she had been pondering before was now looking right at her and she couldn’t look away–

“Hey, Rhea!” Rhea was embarrassed to think about the rather indignant noise she made at the sound of Damian’s voice that called from down the hallway. She whipped around. Her face set into a glower that deepened as she noticed the crooked-toothed smile Damian flashed back at her.

“Yo, take it easy. Did I scare you?” he teased, nudging her suggestively with his elbow as he came to stand next to her. She turned her head dramatically, her face pinched into a pout as she shoved him back.

“Fuck off, Priest.” Her voice dripping with an exasperated fondness that she only ever offered to him. He shrugged before pulling his loosely tied robe closer around him and crossing his arms over his chest. His face the picture of amused curiosity as he said, “I called out a couple times and you didn’t answer. So, I got creative.”

Rhea blew air at her bangs, snorting a laugh as she said, “By creative, you mean loud, right?” He shrugged again, then he glanced behind her. Seemingly looking for something that he couldn’t find. She followed his gaze over her shoulder and almost audibly sighed in relief when she noticed Jey was no longer standing there glaring at her.

“Whatcha lookin’ for?” she questioned with feigned innocence. Damian did seem to clock it in his hungover state, but he just shook his head. “Nothing. You just seemed lost in something.” he said matter-of-factly.

“Nah, just staring off into space waiting for our usual appointed breakfast date.” Damian scoffed, but made no objection to her explanation, moving past her toward the breakfast spread where Jey had once stood. She could still almost envision the perfect silhouette of Jey as he had been just moments before. A ghostly visage with some kind of death reflected in his eyes. An emptiness she now realized felt so familiar, because it was one she shared within herself. A loss of something. Of someone. A loss of innocence that only your greatest love can cause. A loss she’d felt twice but had been remedied by the new family she had now. Maybe Jey could use a new family too. She laughed out loud at the absurdity of the thought and Damian fixed her with a concerned look but made no moves to address it. She resumed her pondering. Jey was too loyal to be fooled out of leaving his family. An absurd thought on her part. Impossible at worst. Yet another thing she’d add to the long list she chose to worry about at a later time.

Or she was full of shit, because even as she made her plate and get several cups of coffee in her system (maybe there was a way to just inject it into her veins first thing in the morning instead. She’d have to do research on it.), her mind wandered back to Jey Uso. More alarmingly, Roman Reigns. A man she had yet to lay eyes on in-person yet loomed large over the union of the two factions. The deal had been made by him. Paul Heyman had just been the typical obedient messenger. When she considered it, Roman was largely responsible for the man that Rhea had narrowly avoided a confrontation with just minutes before. He had beaten Jey down so completely that he was left with only his instincts to guide him. A weapon Roman had sharpened to act as an extension of himself. Jey was no longer an individual, but a cog in the great machine that Roman Reigns had built his now vast empire out of.

Roman was a familiar shadow to her. Like her own mentor, who haunted her even now. Roman Reigns did not seem like the type who took kindly to betrayal. Those who grew brave enough to stand before him was put down expeditiously. It’s why the Judgment Day had agreed to the alliance. Why try and fight a god, just to lose everything, when he’s willing to make you kings? Their faction was still young and while they didn’t have much to lose, fear was enough. Perhaps Edge would be ashamed of them now. The man who thought he was bulletproof. The one who taught them to fear nothing, but he showed his weakness then. He made them too strong, too strong to need him and they took full advantage. They had felled the king who believed himself to be the same god that Roman was.

Still, maybe Roman’s time would be coming soon too. The tension radiated off all the members of the Bloodline in waves. Sami Zayn had opened a door inside a house that every believed to be forged shut with steel. A door no one had thought to check for. And answer to a question that she was sure none of the Bloodline had ever dared to ask.

But that was none of her business. What choices the Bloodline members chose to make didn’t matter to her. So long as they stayed out of her way.

#jey uso #rhea ripley #sami zayn #jimmy uso #naomi #damian priest #dominik mysterio #roman reigns #liv morgan #jhea fanfiction #jhea #wwe #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #finn balor #raquel rodriguez #jd mcdonagh #solo sikoa

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adopteewho · 1 day ago

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TYING TOGETHER THE DETAILS OF THE FIRST DOCTOR’S EARLY CHILDHOOD

While Chibnall was the first to explicitly confirm that the Doctor is care experienced (an umbrella term for foster care, adoption, kinship, residential care, special guardianship) he wasn’t the first to introduce that idea.

In the Series 8 episode Listen written by Steven Moffat, the TARDIS went to the early part of the First Doctor’s life, when he was a young boy sleeping in a barn he’d ran to outside of the Capitol, and was visited by two unseen people.

With how the Woman calls the place that the Doctor had run away from a house and refers to the children living there not as the Doctor’s brothers but as the boys, this implies that the Doctor was living in a children’s care home, and those two people who came to him were likely the care workers of the house.

With what this care worker says, it might’ve been a military orphanage he was living in. That could be what all orphanages on Gallifrey are like which wouldn’t be surprising, or that care worker was just forcing his own interest onto the Doctor and the other children.

Either way, the glimpse we saw of the First Doctor’s childhood was paralleling what we saw earlier in the episode of Danny Pink, who lived in a children’s care home as a boy with an interest of the army.

The Doctor having been in a children’s home fits perfectly with what Reinette said after glimpsing the Doctor’s childhood, because feelings of loneliness are common for those who grow up in care homes.

How the First Doctor ended up in the home, I think that could be answered by what the Ninth Doctor said in The Empty Child.

I think after Tecteun mind-wiped and force regenerated the Doctor into a baby boy, she dumped him at the doorstep of the children’s home. And whether Time Lords are natural or machine born, she fabricated a birth record so he believed he had been born like everyone else. To add, I doubt the Doctor is the only Time Lord and Division Operative to have been reset because of no longer aligning with Division.

We know from multiple references that the First Doctor had a family and a family home.

“Well, when I was a little boy, we used to live in a house that was perched halfway up the top of a mountain” - 3rd Doctor, The Time Monster

“I was with my father, it was a warm Gallifreyan night” - 8th Doctor, TV Movie

“Have you got a brother” - Martha “No, not anymore. Just me” - 10th Doctor, Smith and Jones

“But of course it’s meant to be the Doctor’s mother. That’s certainly what I’ll tell the production team. Euros knows it already. David, too” - RTD in The Writer’s Tale about the Woman in The End of Time

“Sisters. I used to have sisters” - 13th Doctor, Arachnids in the UK

“I had seven, but grannie five, my favourite, used to tell me about the Solitract” - 13th Doctor, It Takes You Away

This means that the Doctor wouldn’t have been in the children’s home for his entire childhood. Some time before he went to the Academy, he was either fostered or adopted by a family who lived in the house perched halfway up a mountain.

Some fans say that the Doctor not being from Gallifrey means that the Woman in The End of Time can’t be the Doctor’s mother. But I think what they mean by that is that she can’t be his birth mother, but there’s no issue with that. Whether the Woman was the Doctor’s adoptive or foster mother, that doesn’t make them less of a mother, a mother is mother no matter what kind, the scene and the intent still has the exact same impact as it had before, a mother helping their child in their time of need. My mother (adoptive) would go to the ends of the Earth for me, and I her. And I think it’s better that she wasn’t his birth mother because it means we haven’t seen one of two people who are the reason for the Doctor’s existence, adding to the mystery of their identity and origins.

And some time after being adopted or fostered, the Doctor goes to the Academy, graduates, has a family of his own as a father and grandfather, then for multiple reasons decides to run away from Gallifrey with his granddaughter Susan and the rest as they say is history.

#doctor who #the doctor #gallifrey #time lord #time lords #william hartnell #first doctor #13th doctor #8th doctor #10th doctor #tecteun

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jrswritings · 1 day ago

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Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Twenty-Two- Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with the Chapters 1-21 on the Masterlist! :)

Chapter Twenty-Two - Haggard, Jennings, and Strait

You had just left the gas station a couple of hours away from the small town where Auntie B lived, starting your journey to your parent's house. While you were filled with excitement, you were also quite nervous. You hadn’t brought any man home to your parents since your ex, Derek. Your parents were in love with Derek more than you think you were. They viewed him as the perfect boyfriend for you. He was pursuing a law degree and planned to have his firm in the Big Apple.

Your parents listened to you, but there were times you felt your words landed on deaf ears for what you wanted in life. Every parent wants their child to be happy and successful in life, but everyone views success differently.

While accelerating onto the highway, you leaned against the armrest and gripped the wheel tightly. In all honesty, it wasn’t just nerves you were feeling; you were scared, too.

Tyler decided to lean his seat back and put his hat to cover his face, in hopes of taking a brief nap. You slid one of your earbuds into your right ear and selected a random playlist from your ever-growing list of music. The piano intro of Merle Haggard’s ‘That’s the Way Love Goes’ flooded your ear. You hummed along softly, but it was one of your favorite songs of Merle’s so it was hard to not sing along.

“That’s the way love goes, babe, that’s the music God made, for all the world to sing, it’s never old, it grows,” you sang softly, “Losing makes me sorry, you say, honey, now don’t worry, don’t you know I love you too, and that’s the way love goes.”

Little did you know, Tyler was not asleep beside you but was listening to you the whole time. You grew up listening to Haggard, Jennings, and Strait so it brought you back to a time when life was simpler.

Your phone dinged and your phone read it to you in your ear.

“A text from Mom, hey honey, what time do you think you will be at Uncle Oliver’s? Say what you’d like to respond with.”

“In an hour or so,” you said, “Who’s driving the truck and trailer?”

After it was sent, the fiddle on ‘Amarillo By Morning’ took over. You slightly started to rock your shoulders while listening, your fingers tapping the beat of the song on the steering wheel.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tyler shuffle, glancing over you noticed he was disconnecting your phone from your ear bud and connecting it to the truck.

“What? I like this song, too,” he said, turning the volume up.

“Ah, okay,” you laughed softly.

“They took my saddle in Houston, broke my leg in Santa Fe, lost my wife and a girlfriend somewhere along the way,” he sang, sitting up in his seat, “But I’ll be lookin’ for eight when they pull that gate and I hope that judge ain’t blind. Amarillo by mornin’, Amarillo’s on my mind.”

“I never took you for much of a singer, Owens,” you said, turning the radio down slightly.

“Auntie B and my Mom would always have music playing, no matter the time,” he said, “Especially if it was classic country. They always played Alabama and Johnny Cash.”

“Sounds like my household,” you chuckled, “Hence why my boys are named Waylon and Willie.”

“Same for Cash, ain’t that right, bud?” He asked, turning around and seeing his dog passed out in the backseat peacefully.

“He’s had a lot of excitement the last 24 hours, babe,” you said, “Let the poor pup sleep.”

“I know,” he said softly, reaching his hand over and placing it on yours, “My last few days have been a lot of excitement, too.”

“I bet, you’re with one crazy lady,” you laughed.

“The only thing she doesn’t know is that I’m crazier,” he laughed.

Your phone dinged again, this time it playing over the truck sound system.

“A text from Mom, your father planned on having you drive and use your truck, then we’d have your boyfriend help out with some of the manual labor. You know we have to see if he is even worth your time. Say what you’d like to respond with.”

You pressed the button on the screen to not send a reply.

“Well that isn’t embarrassing at all,” you groaned, rubbing your forehead while turning off the main highway.

“It’s okay, they just want to see if I’m good enough for you,” he said, “Normal protective parenting.”

“That’s what you think,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes, “Just wait until they bring up my ex and won’t stop talking about them.”

“Why do they like him so much since he broke your heart?” Tyler asked, squeezing your hand gently.

“Because in their eyes he was the perfect boyfriend,” you mocked your parent's tone, “Meanwhile our relationship was far from perfect. I’m glad he cheated, even though it did give me trust issues.”

“Okay, now I’m lost,” he said, leaning to be facing you slightly.

“As much as my parents viewed him as perfect, after year two I was starting to fall out of love with him. We would fight, a lot and about the dumbest things. I’d want to go listen to bands and dance in downtown Salado, yet he would want to go to the city and bar-hop with his college friends,” you said, your mind going back to how those days made you feel, “He’d be gone to the cities for a whole weekend if not longer sometimes. He never helped out with the farm chores when we’d go to my parents. It’d just be that his soft little hands can’t get rough, it doesn’t look good in a courtroom.”

“Was he going to be a judge or something?” Tyler asked.

“Lawyer,” you said, “My parents viewed him as going to be quite successful and would make me happy my whole life. So, I swallowed my pride and stayed with him to make them happy.”

“Why though? If you were miserable,” he started to say.

“Because back then I was a people pleaser,” you snapped, “And others abused that so I’ve been working on not being one.”

“I see,” he said quietly.

“But what I view as being happy isn’t what they view, so I just suffered until I had an actual reason to leave him,” you said, pulling into a rest stop and putting the truck in park.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that for that long, baby,” he said softly, reaching over and moving a piece of hair from your face.

“It is what it is, Ty,” you sighed, resting your forehead on the top of the steering wheel, “I’ve moved past it to what actually makes me happy.”

“I make you happy?” He asked, a smirk coming to his face.

“Yes, you dummy,” you said while sitting up and smacking his chest lightly, “I wouldn’t have said yes if you didn’t.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he chuckled, kissing the back of your hand.

“Are you okay to drive? I need to text my mom that we’ll be there in twenty and I need to calm down so I don’t lose it the next couple of days,” you said, unbuckling your seatbelt.

“Anything for you babe,” he said, “I’d rather not have to bail you out of jail.”

“I wouldn’t kill anyone, just say some not-nice things,” you said, opening your door and sliding out of your seat.

“That’s what they all say,” he chuckled, getting out of his side of the truck to go around to the driver's side.

While you messaged your mom back that you’d be there soon, you leaned the seat back slightly and rubbed your face with your fingers. There was a reason you rarely visited your family, and this was it. The home wasn’t a happy place anymore without James there. Your view of life changed, along with what priorities you had. You moved to stay focused on one thing and one thing only. Yourself.

Taglist: @fanboyswhore9 @faith719 @ummmeg @nerdgirljen @winterassassin1804 @smoothdogsgirl @xbox5angelx @ifilwtmfc @djs8891 @watashiwababy

#glen powell #glen powell x reader #twisters #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x y/n #glen powell x you #twisters x reader #tyler owens fanfiction #tyler owens twisters #twisters fanfic #twisters2024 #tornado wrangler

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sunandflame · 2 days ago

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Shards of Glass, Chapter 9

Summary: Kyojuro Rengoku, History Teacher on the Kimetsu Academy, is constantly having strange dreams about a Slayer who looks exactly like him. He thinks nothing of it until he recognizes a very specific person from these dreams and feels a very unique connection to her.

Pairing: History Teacher Kyojuro x Teacher Fem!Reader

Trope: Reincarnation / Sequel to Flame and Water (can be stand-alone)

Word Count: 3851

Warning: smut

Pinterest Board of Shards of Glass

Crossposted on AO3

Masterlist of Shards of Glass

“Could you take in two strays who were caught up in the rain?”

He looked at her in shock and immediately stepped aside to let her in, which she did. She was the last person he would expect here, but he wasn't expecting anyone at this late hour. He closed the door behind them and studied her, noticing how wet she was from the rain. Her hair stuck to her face and she shivered noticeably. Something black jumped out of her arm and immediately explored the area until the cat ran along Kyojuro's legs and purred at him.

So that was the second stray she was talking about. Kyojuro smiles at the feline and kneels on his haunches to pet the cat who is immediately smitten by him. The moment he looks up at Y/N his face turns serious as he rises up to clasp her arms in both of his hands. It’s obvious that something happened but he does not dare to ask, not now when she was shaken. “You are freezing.” He rubs her arms to create warm friction. “How about you first take a shower while I make you some hot chocolate to drink?” Y/N nods with teary eyes and he leads her into his little bathroom.

~ ~ ~

The warmth of the water jet was a blessing to her chilled skin. She had surveyed the bathroom and had noticed how sporadically everything was arranged, as if he had just moved in here. She noted the two bottles that were on the floor of the shower and smelled them before using them. Amber and pine trees. An interesting combination, but one she had already smelled on him. She remembered the first time when his scent hit her nose as she stood close to him while they talked. She had to resist the temptation to move closer to him and sniff his neck, knowing how odd that might have looked. The fact that she now had the chance to use his shampoos and smell like him made her blush. Especially when she slipped into his hoodie and sweatpants after showering. She couldn't help but bury her nose in the soft material and sniff the soothing smell of Kyojuro.

She couldn't help but think of how he had looked at her earlier. His eyes wide in surprise. His golden-red waves that were in a messy bun. His white shirt that was so tight around his muscular pectorals, showing off the definition she never noticed before and oh god… Those gray sweatpants that sat so dangerously low on his hips. She felt the heat go to her head again and was about to jump back to take a cold shower, but this wasn't her apartment. She was only a guest. Y/N took a deep breath and looked into the bathroom mirror for a brush and combed her wet hair with it.

Shimizu purred and constantly rubbed against his legs as he prepared the hot chocolate on the stove. As he stirred the dark liquid with the spoon, several thoughts ran through his mind. What happened to her? Why was she outside at this time? Threatening herself with sickness? Why was she crying? Was she hungry? His thoughts were interrupted as he saw a figure from the corner of his eyes.

“She seems to like you a lot.”

Kyojuro turned to her and saw her standing at the door frame. His clothes were definitely too big for her, her eyes still puffy from crying and yet she looked beautiful. To see her in his clothes like this stirred something deep inside him and he felt his cheeks growing warmer. “Yes, it seems like it. I like her too.” He looked down at the feline with a smile and reached down to scratch her under her chin. “Just make yourself comfortable on the couch. I will come in a minute and then we can talk. If you want.”

She nodded and seated herself on his couch. Kyojuro seated himself next to her and handed her the cup. “Here, this should warm you up.”

With a grateful nod she took the cup and sipped on the hot chocolate. He didn't know why, but he watched her closely as she closed her eyes in pleasure, running her tongue over her upper lip. “Delicious…” she sighed out and gave him a smile. “Thank you very much, I really needed that.”

“You are welcome. If you need anything else, let me know.” He smiled back at her.

“Thanks, but I think the hot chocolate should be enough for now.” She took another long sip and remained silent. Kyojuro didn't know what to say either. What was he supposed to say anyway? She was the one who came to him drenched from the rain with troubles weighing on her shoulders.

The silence became more oppressive until Shimizu jumped between the two of them and meowed very loudly. They both looked at her in surprise and then started to laugh. “I’m sorry Shimizu, I should have offered you something too.” He got up and the feline followed him immediately. He put a bowl with water and some cooked rice that he had from the day before and watched how she started to eat. As his gaze turned back to Y/N, he saw her staring at a picture that was on the drawer. He went there and gave her the frame. It was a picture of his family.

She picked it up reverently and looked at it closely. “Senjuro and you took after your father. It’s like he copy-pasted himself.”

Kyojuro’s smile turned nervous as he scratched the back of his neck. “Yes, the Rengoku genes are actually very strong. This hair color goes back to the Sengoku-era.”

“Really?” She looked at him in surprise and chuckled. “I need to confess something. The first time I saw your hair, I thought that you dyed the tips red, but then I met your little brother in one of my classes and realized that it must run in your family. I always wondered if it was your father or mother.” Her gaze went back to the picture and her smile softened. “Your mother is so beautiful.”

“Yes she is…” But his eyes were not on the picture, but on her. How she held it carefully in her hands, as if she knew how important it was to him. She put it carefully back and sat down on the couch, her smile dying out slowly.

Her gaze became distant while she tightly grabbed her mug. Kyojuro was visibly concerned, still debating if he should ask her what happened. The silence did not make the situation better as the worst scenarios were going through his head until he decided to finally ask her.

“Y/N… Why were you running so late outside in the rain? Did something happen…?” He didn’t dare to finish the sentence.

“Everything is fine…” She gave him a smile to reassure him, but this smile didn’t reach her eyes.

He scrunched his forked eyebrows. “You are a bad liar.”

Now she couldn’t hold it back any longer and started to laugh. While she laughed, he was able to hear her pain and the tears that she was not able to shed anymore. “But probably still better than you.”

Now he couldn't help but smile at the inside joke that had developed between the two of them. “Y/N you know that you can talk to me, right? You are my friend and my confession didn’t change that fact..”

You are my friend.

I love you, Y/N.

Those words still lingered in her mind. "Kenji and I… We were fighting a lot the past week. The fights became bigger and bigger..." She finally spoke.

"He did not-" Kyojuro was assuming the worst.

"No, no," she immediately corrected him. "I... broke up with him..." She was still not looking at him.

Kyojuro was surprised and he should be sad about hearing this. A break up, especially if someone had been together for such a long time, must be painful. He remembered how heartbroken he always was in his past break ups. A long silence occurred before Kyojuro decided to open his mouth. "I am sorry to hear that."

She put the mug on the table and leaned back to turn her head to him. "Are you really, Kyo?"

His eyes were now fixated on her plump lips that called his nickname so seductively. So inviting... imploring even. But he stopped himself before turning his golden red hues onto her eyes. "No, I am actually not."

Was it her who came closer or was he moving towards her? He really shouldn’t do it. He really shouldn't take advantage of her in this situation. The air was filled with tension, the longing was in both of their eyes.

“Kyo…” Her lips were whispering his name, waiting for him to finally make a move. Fuck it, he thought to himself and took her face in both of his hands and kissed her. Their lips clashed together and something inside them was like ‘finally’. As if his soul had been waiting for it over 100 years and was so desperate for her. The kiss turned hungrier and the sensation was so exhilarating that it strictly stirred his cock, which already started forming a tent in his gray sweatpants.

It didn't make it any better when she grabbed his hair and desperately pulled him closer so that he fell on top of her. His hardened dick pressed against her. Only the thin layers of fabric separated them, but not preventing the delicious friction that made them both moan into the kiss. “Kyojuro…” Her voice is so whiny and desperate for him that it evoked something primal in him.

Kyojuro felt as if a flame had ignited inside him, a flame that had been smoldering from the moment he first laid eyes on her. Now it was burning bright, consuming any lingering doubts and restraint he had left. He eagerly kissed her back, his tongue exploring her mouth while his hands gripped her waist tightly. His lips didn’t leave hers as his hands wandered down to her waist and hips. “Not here.” He was not sure if he said that more to himself than to her. It did not matter as he quickly stood up and grabbed her waist, to pick her up. Y/N immediately wrapped her legs tightly around him, kissing his lips, jaw, neck and everywhere else she was able to reach. That elicited a groan from him, making him dig his fingers into her thighs, where he was holding on desperately. It was hard to focus and if he didn’t have an ounce of self control he would have simply fucked her against the wall. However, this was their first time together so he opted to carry her into his bedroom.

Once in his room he draped her slowly onto his bed, his mouth wandering from her lips to her neck where he sucked and kissed the sensitive skin, eliciting all those sweet sighs and moans from her. He moved away from her, his body hovering over hers, to take a little to look at her. Again the sight of her in his clothes just made his heart clench in a way he never expected. His hands roamed over her body and pulled the hoodie over her head. He stared longingly at her bare breasts. Her nipples were already hard and eagerly pointing at him as they begged him to suck on them. He couldn’t take his eyes from her, before he snapped out of it as he realized that she was blushing under him. “Gods… You are so beautiful…” Murmuring words that were so familiar, creating a flashback in the back of his mind where he had said something like that before, but that didn't matter. What was important was that they were both here in the now.

There was something so intimate about being laid bare in front of him, seeing the desire and admiration in his eyes as his hands roamed over her body. Her blush deepened under his words, and she gently pulled his head down towards her chest. “Kyojuro… Please touch me…” She wanted his touch, nearly burned for the sensation his warmth gave her. He didn't need to be told twice and lowered his head down to take her nipple into his mouth, circling the hard peak with his hot tongue. The sudden shock of his touch sent waves of pleasure through her body and made her lower lip quiver. Her gasp only spurred him on further. His hand moved down to her waist, sliding under the fabric of her sweatpants to caress the sensitive skin there. He could feel how wet she was through the fabric, and the thought of it made him harder, if that was even possible.

He could feel the growing need to be inside her, to feel her from the inside, and the realization that they were on the same page seemed to fill his mind. He watched the response from her body and how she writhed under his touch. Those gasps and moans that he so craved; he wanted her to make more of those sounds. More, more, more… His hand on her waist began to slowly pull her sweatpants down, revealing more of her skin. His eyes roamed over her body, taking in every inch of her naked form. It was like being mesmerized by the most beautiful work of art in the world, and yet, it was the fact that this beauty was his to experience, to explore, that made it so much more intoxicating.

He began to slowly undress himself as he watched her beneath him on his bed. His gaze was like a physical touch, as if he was already trailing his fingers over the skin he could see. He wanted to make her feel just as wanted and worshiped, as he continued to slowly strip, revealing his toned body. She couldn’t take his eyes off him. His hand moved down and gently caressed her inner thigh, the touch gentle yet possessive.

"Gods, you are so beautiful."

He could hear how she gasped as his mouth moved down her body, and the sound of her voice only made his body react more to her. He lifted his head a bit, looking at her flushed face, and watched her lips part as she took a deep breath while he spread her thighs apart. He could already see her glistening folds, so beautifully exposed to him. The sight sent a wave of desire through his body, and he had to take a moment to gather his own self-control as he leaned down closer, his breath ghosting across her sensitive skin.

“So beautiful," he echoed, his voice thick with need, "I want to taste you…"

Without giving her time to respond, he lowered his mouth to her core, his tongue swiping across her sensitive flesh in one slow, languid motion. The taste of her was so sweet, so intoxicating, that it took all his self-control not to just devour her right then and there.

As he continued to lavish attention on her, he felt her hands in his hair, gripping and tugging at the strands. The pain and pleasure of it only added to his own arousal, and he groaned against her skin.

"You taste so sweet…" he whispered, "I need more."

He continued to explore every inch of her, his lips and tongue relishing the sweetness and warmth of her body. As he listened to her moans increase in volume, he intensified his efforts, his tongue moving with more purpose and pressure, trying to draw out as many of those delicious sounds from her as possible. And with each lick and stroke of his tongue, he felt her legs shaking and trembling. He could tell how close she was to the edge, and he kept going, determined to bring her over that precipice. Her gasps and moans fuelled him as he worked his mouth between her thighs. He wanted to make her scream his name, to hear her come undone beneath his touch.

As her moans grew louder and more desperate, Kyojuro knew she was nearing her climax. He continued his assault, not letting up, determined to push her over the edge. He felt her thighs tremble and constrict around his head as she neared her release.

"Let go, my water lily" he murmured against her skin, not knowing where the pet name came, "Let me hear you come…"

And as if it was a command she cried out his name, pulling at his soft golden locks. “Kyojuro!” His heart nearly stopped as her voice, screaming his name, filled his ears. He could feel her body tense and shudder as she came, the sensation of her fingers in his hair sending a jolt of satisfaction straight to his core. He continued to gently lick and suck at her, drawing the orgasm out as long as possible until she finally collapsed back against the bed, completely spent.

He slowly pulled away, his lips and chin glistening with her juices. He stared down at her, admiring the sight before him, the view of her trembling body and flushed skin. The beautiful sight of her coming undone because of his efforts, all because of him. It filled him with a sense of pride… and an overwhelming need for more. "So exquisite…" he murmured, his eyes skimming every inch of her body. The sight of her, so undone by his touch, was enough to make him throb with desire.

He moved up her body, his lips moving along her stomach and over her chest until they found her mouth. He kissed her gently, letting her taste herself on his lips and tongue. His body was still throbbing with yearning, and he was fighting hard not to just push himself into her right then and there. But it was not him, but her who took the initiative. The feeling of her legs wrapping around him instantly spread an unsung fire through his body. He leaned down and his lips found the skin of her neck, kissing and sucking on the sensitive spot behind her ear. His hands roamed over her figure, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its track. He groaned into her skin as his hips involuntarily ground against hers.

"I… need you, now," he whispered huskily.

He could feel the slickness of her against his stomach, and it only increased his need to be inside her. He shifted slightly, his hands gripping her hips tightly, and lifted himself up to position himself between her thighs. His eyes locked with hers as he slowly pushed his cock into her, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he held himself back. The sensation of her tight, warm walls surrounding him was almost overwhelming. He buried his face in her neck groaning how perfect she felt. As he slowly started to move his hips, he felt as if he was losing his mind. The feeling of being inside her, having her completely at his mercy was almost too much to handle. He leaned down, his lips finding her neck as he nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin. He was lost in a hazy fog of ecstasy, the sound of her moans and gasps in his ear driving him to go deeper, faster.

His own control slowly slipped away as the pleasure consumed him. His hands roamed over her body, touching and exploring every inch to memorize the feel of her flesh underneath his fingers. He lifted her legs around his waist, getting a better angle and the new position drove him even deeper into her. And he continued to thrust into her, the pace and force increasing with each movement. He was completely lost in the moment, his mind completely overtaken by the pleasure of feeling her completely. His lips found her neck once more and he nipped and sucked at her pulse, leaving behind a trail of love bites in their wake.

Mine… his mind whispered fiercely, possessiveness creeping into him.

As he continued to dominate her with his body, he could feel her tremble and quiver under him. The sounds of her moans and gasps, the feeling of her body's response to his touch, it only fueled him to go harder, deeper. He could feel himself nearing his limit, the mounting pleasure becoming nearly unbearable. His breaths were labored as he tried to hold back his release, continuing to move his hips with each deep stroke. But the way she felt, her skin against his, the sound of her gasps and moans in his ear… it was too much.

"I'm… close…" he panted, his grip tightening on her hips as he tried to hold on just a little longer.

He could feel her body tightening around him, clenching and gripping him as if she was desperate to keep him inside. It was an incredibly delicious sensation that only added to his mounting pleasure. With each powerful thrust, the coiled heat within him grew stronger and more intense.

"I'm gonna…" he gasped, "Oh Gods… I'm gonna come…"

“M-Me too..!”, she cried between her moans as he felt her tight grip on him. Her voice sounded so desperate, needy and it was all it took for him to lose any remaining control he had.

He leaned down and his lips found hers, his tongue delving between hers, tasting her moan as he pushed himself deeper into her one final time. With a low, guttural groan he let go and succumbed to the pleasure, his body shuddering as he came hard, releasing himself inside her. He held himself there as the release hit him, his body shuddering and tensing as waves of ecstasy washed over. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breaths ragged and unsteady as he slowly came down from his high.

He collapsed on top of her, his body trembling with exhaustion and satisfaction. They lay there for a few moments, both of them trying to catch their breath and come back down to earth. He nuzzled his face into her neck, pressing soft kisses to her flesh as he tried to form words. But it was not possible. They simply stared at each other, her hand roaming over his face and pushing a blonde strand behind his ear.

A profound, unspoken connection flowed between them. Their eyes locked in a gaze that spoke volumes more than words ever could. They marveled at the raw intimacy they had just shared, a sense of wonder filling the space between their breaths. Still panting from their lovemaking, their hearts seemed to beat in unison. Their shared silence was suddenly broken by soft laughter, a tender, joyous release that bubbled up from the depths of their souls. The giggles were not just amusement, but a shared acknowledgment of the beauty they had found in each other.

A/N: Hello, my sweethearts! Who would have thought this story would ever get an update? (Not me!) I know it’s been a while, and I’m deeply sorry about that. Everyone who has been following me knows that I’ve been going through some real-life stuff, but things are getting better. I’ve been constantly thinking about this story and how much I love the plot I’ve built here, and I don’t want to disappoint anyone. But forcing myself was a big no-no, which is why it took so long. Again, I’m really sorry, and I hope I can make it up with this smutty smut. Since there’s no regular schedule for this story, please reply if you want to be tagged or not. Much love, your (Mommy) Sunny <3

Taglist: @flametrashira @mamayan @love-me-satoru @camilo-uwu @genshinsimpforlif @curlyblaze @oggy4god

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ashblooddragons · 2 days ago

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The Red Queen (Chapter 14/?)

Series Masterlist

Kingslanding

113 ac

Your pov

I try to ignore the wails and screams that fills the halls. The swish of maids dresses as they rush down the halls with bloody rags trying to find clean ones. The whispers of courtiers trying to decide if the babe will be a boy or not.

I try, but I find even a deaf man would hear the wails that fill the keep.

All this pain for a babe? I think solemnly looking down at my flat belly. To think that one day a babe would one day grow there is baffling.

“Her Grace needs more hot water.” I hear a frantic maid say most likely to another maid.

I remember how happy I was finding out I was gonna be a big sister, now I wish I wasn't if only for her.

Papa and Ali asked for me to come to his chambers. I try to figure out on the way what it could be about.

Maybe there's gonna be another wedding? Nyra is betrothed to Laenor. I think just before the doors to Papa’s chambers open.

“Ah wonderful you're both here!” Papa says when I enter. I notice Nyra sitting next to him scowling towards Ali who only hangs her head and twists her fingers.

“Yes we're both here, now what do you need?” Nyra asks in that tone of hers. She's been speaking this way ever since Ali married Papa. I don't get why she blames Ali, Ali said she couldn't stop it even if she wanted to, and it seemed like she wanted to.

Papa grimaces at Nyras tone before smiling again.

“I-no we have wonderful news. The Queen is with child!” Papa exclaims taking Ali's hand in his not even looking at her.

I smile ear to ear when I hear this. “I'm gonna be a big sister?” I ask excitedly as I rush over to Ali touching her belly.

I never got the chance before, Papa said Mama was too sick that it just wouldn't happen for a while. But then she did, but then she passed.

With that thought I look up at Ali worriedly and she seems to notice my fears as she speaks next.

“The Maesters say it should be a healthy pregnancy. No complications, at least from what they can tell as of now.”

I smile wider, staring at her still flat belly trying to figure out if I'm gonna have a sister or brother. But then Nyra scoffs and glares at Ali.

“It's only been three moons since your wedding, and you're already with child? Interested.” She says as if she knows some dark secret and is all too happy about it.

I'm confused why the time between their marriage and the baby being here is important. I mean we all saw them kiss at the wedding, and many times after. It was only a matter of time those kisses made a baby.

Before Ali can cry from Nyras cruel words or Papa yell at Nyra I decide to speak.

“This is great, do we know if it's a boy or a girl?”

This makes Ali laugh as she looks down at me stroking my wild hair back. I know she knows own. I just went for a fly, I had told her that Srromchaser has been sad lately and I hoped a fly would help.

“We won't know until they are born. But what do you hope for?”

My immediate thought is that I hope Ali lives and doesn't pass away like Mama. But I know I can't say that, this is a happy moment, no sad thoughts allowed.

“I want a,” I start stopping to think one last time before responding. “Sister!” I decide with a nod.

She smiles down at me, she finally seems happy again. Like the Ali I knew before Nyra was mad at her and Papa married her.

“Oh but a son would be helpful, don't you want a brother, Darling?” Papa says with a forced grin.

I try not to frown at his words, Papa always wanted a son I never understood why though.

But what made me the most upset was how his words took away Alis smile. She was finally happy and he just had to ruin it.

I'm brought back when the screams finally stop, I feel my heart stop, I can't breathe.

Why is it so quiet? Shouldn't there be a babe crying? Surely if I can hear her screams all the way across the keep I would hear a babes cries? I think frantically as I climb out of bed clutching my Caraxes plush.

I move to open the door only to find Ser Criston. He doesn't seem to have noticed me having seemingly also been co fused by the sudden quiet.

“Is she alright, oh please say she's alright Criston.” I beg tears rolling down my cheeks.

He looks down at me frowning before kneeling and taking my hands in his much larger ones.

“I don't know, but I am going to find out. Stay here, a guard will be in front of your door. I will be back as soon as I can with news.” Ser Criston says before standing and turning down the hall in search of a maid or maester with news.

I try not to think about how he didn't say good news, only news. I know there is a chance she could die, but I prayed, I prayed so much she wouldn't. I prayed to the Seven like she taught me, to the old gods, I even tried to pray to the Valyrian ones like Kepus taught me. So surely one of them heard me and will follow my prayers.

I turn back into my chambers wiping my tears walking towards Orchid. She quickly sits me in her lap showing me the new hat she made for her son Noah.

“I was thinking of putting little stars along the hem, and for his sister Clover well she will have flowers. She says trying to distract me from the cruel wait to know if all is well.

I nod my head as I move Caraxes wings up and down pretending he is actually in the skins and not just a plush in my arms.

Kepus wouldn't make me wait this long, he'd let me know right away. I think eyeing the door for any moment when finally after what feeling like moons a knock comes to the door.

“The Queen awaits you, Your Grace.” I hear Criston say through the door.

Orchid quickly sets me on my feet and slips my wool slippers on as well as my silk shawl ‘to keep the cold away’ she says. Before running to the door with Caraxes still clutched in my arms.

“Is she alright? Is the babe? Oh please tell me they are alright!” I plead as he takes my hand in his guiding me towards the Queen's chambers.

He smiles down at me before nodding and I feel all the worry leave my body. I fight the tears of relief that they are alright, that they are still breathing, that they hadn't passed like Mother and Baelon did.

I can't help but notice all the courtiers who stand outside the Queen's chambers. I hear them whisper about how if it's a boy it would be the heir.

If it's a boy it would be heir? I wouldn't feel all this stress anymore? I wouldn't have all of court watching me? I think excitedly before remembering that if it is a boy it will feel all this stress, fear, and crushing weight on him.

No please don't let it be a boy, I don't want anyone to feel this, let alone a innocent babe. I pray to any gods that will hear me.

Ser Ceiston pushes them all out of our way until we yet to the doors.

“The Queen and King are excited to see you.” He says before opening the door and letting me in.

I step in taking in the sight of Papa talking to maester about something, and of Ali holding a bundle of blankets in her arms. I watch with bated breaths as she lifts her head to look at me. Her smile lights the room from its pure joy.

“Come here.” She says waving me over.

I waste no time running over to her tears of relief finally rolling down my cheeks. I climb into the bed sluggling into her side crying into her chest.

“What's wrong, Sweetheart?” She asks stroking my hair back so she can wipe my tears as they fall.

“I thought something bad happened, that you would be like-like.” I can't even finish the sentence but thankfully she seems to understand as she hums before responding.

“Me and your brother are perfectly fine.” She says and I can't help but look up at her wide eyed.

“I have a baby brother?” I ask looking down at the black and gold blanket again.

“Yes, his name is Aegon.”

I smile big as I move the blanket to the side to see his chubby cheeks and silver gold wisps.

“Like the conquer. I love it.” I say stroking his cheek.

His skin feels so soft, so fragile, like the finest silk. His cheeks are red and he seems to be asleep as his eyes are closed and he has yet to open them.

“I'm glad you like them, now I have two wonderful children. You and Aegon.” She says and I freeze turning to look up at her.

I see the joy bit also the fear in her eyes. But I don't know why she is afraid, I would be over joyed to be her child as well.

“Well we are lucky to have such a good Mama.” I respond and I see her wipe at her eyes fighting tears. At first I think she is sad but then she smiles and kisses my brow and I know they are happy tears.

“Can I hold him?” I ask to which she nods telling me to sit with my back against the head board and hold my arms out in front of me.

When Aegon is set into my arms I'm shocked how heavy he is. He's so tiny surely he isn't that heavy? I think looking down at him once he is in my lap.

“He's so cute.” I whisper excitedly to Ali.

“He truly is.” She says shifting her position only to whince in pain.

I frown going to ask if she is alright when she kisses my cheek and looks down at Aegon again.

“He looks just like you. Just with Papa’s hair, and I don't know what his eyes look like.” I whisper to her.

“You think so? All of the men say he looks like the King. And I hadn't gotten a close look at his eyes, but I do know they are purple.” She says stroking Aegons nose making him scrunch it up in annoyance making us both giggle.

It always strikes me as odd how she always refers to Papa as ‘the King', they are married and yet they only call each other by their titles. King, Queen, Wife, Husband, anything but their names or a sweet nickname. But instead of bringing it up I shrug it off like always looking down at my little brother again.

“I'm your big sister, I'll always protect you. Even when your big and strong, I'm gonna protect you from the bad people here. I'll guide you, teach you Valyrian, I even have toys you can pick from. Just not my Caraxes and Stormchaser plushes. Oh and not my dolly either, she looks just like me, even had my eyes.” I whisper down to him excitedly.

In my excitement I miss how Nyra walks in only to storm out once she hears its a son. But what I wish I didn't miss was how Papa stares at Aegon with disdain, and how the Hand looks at him like a tool. But Ali does, and because of this she holds me and Aegon closer silently swearing to the gods to always protect us even if it meant her demise.

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @athzhowakar @themoonlitquill @thelastemzy @fallenxjas

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alternate-universe-archivist · 1 day ago

Text

Fae AU where Viktor is a fairy (with butterfly🦋 wings of course) and Jayce is obsessed with proving the Fae are real.

//conceptual, hurt, happy ending 1k words

Some believe in the supernatural and some don’t but most neighbours agree that young Talis has always been unhealthily obsessed with what they call the Fae, especially fairies.

Claiming he was once rescued by one in the forest on a cold winter night when he was lost, Jayce spends hours of his time trying to find that magic again. He has been called crazy and worse, even the best willing people told him that such efforts come at too great a cost, for even if they were real, the Fae keep themselves hidden from humanity.

Jayce doesn’t know though, that there is indeed one fairy that is just as intrigued by other spieces as him. Viktor remains small and invisible, hiding himself behind the books in Jayce’s room, beneath unworn clothes and fabric or the plants he tenders to. For the Fae must never expose themselves.

As years pass Jayce grows curious and desperate enough to try even more unsafe methods of establishing communication with the Fae. Viktor stresses each time another dangerous ritual is done, for the human seems to underestimate the danger some of the Folk pose—not all are gentle. For that very reason Viktor steals the cookies and milk Jayce leaves at his doorstep, takes the seeds left at the fairy altar, rings the carefully strung up bells, dusts the precious crystals, all so no entity more malicious can accept the gifts.

Jayce’s believes grow stronger each time milk is missing, the flowers bloom overnight, when he hears music coming from the windows, when he finds shimmering dust on his pillow. People only call him more and more insane.

Viktor feels a little guilty, would he have listened to his fairy mentor Heimerdinger had he never gotten himself in this predicament. But he can’t just leave him be now. Jayce is only attempting more dangerous rituals, his room ever more fanatic but cozier, the tea he brews smelling so divine. Sometimes he considers revealing himself—against all what he’s taught before. It could bring devastation to those he belongs to…

One day, on a particularly cold autumn morning, Viktor wakes on top of a messy shelf in Jayce’s room. Strangely, the bed below is empty. Delicate wings flutter through the house. No one seems to be around.

Viktor panics when he sees the latest research laying on the table. The notes mention fairy rings: mushrooms growing in circles that lead to the fairy realm. They’re made to lure in children, not adults, and not all fairy families are kind to visitors.

Viktor scouts the forest, trying his best to fly as fast as possible even with one disabled wing. Eventually he finds Jayce only a few seconds away from stepping into a huge fairy circle.

“Please let me interrupt!” tiny Viktor yells while dashing in front of Jayce. Before he can stop and think he has already exposed himself.

Jayce seems to be frozen in place, either by fear or amazement.

“Please go back,” Viktor urges him. “This isn’t safe.” Jayce’s eyes follow him as he flies closer—trying to push him farther away. It’s pointless.

“I knew you were real,” Jayce finally speaks. There’s tears in his eyes. “I knew it.”

“Yes,” Viktor admits. “But you still need to go back. And don’t ever try to contact us again.”

Viktor goes invisible once again. He feels terrible about it, but it’s for the best.

Months pass. Jayce’s experimental rituals have stopped. There’s only one ritual he follows now.

Even when no one’s around he talks, praying that who he saw in the forest that day is listening. All he wants is to see them again.

No one answers.

Jayce went back to the fairy ring of course. Only it wasn’t there anymore. In fact, he couldn’t find one in the whole of the forest.

“Don’t you talk because I’m not a child anymore?” Jayce asks. “Can’t we see each other because I’m human or do you not want to be seen?” he can only ever ask one-sided questions. “Do you dislike humans for what we do to nature?“ His shares everything that comes to mind: his feelings, his thoughts, hopes, dreams, childhood memories.

Jayce tries his best to draw the face and wings he saw that day. He can never get it quite right.

One night Jayce falls asleep crying under the sounds of calm rain. He has never felt more alone. All he has is short memories. Years of research all for a single moment that will never be repeated again.

When he wakes it feels like he’s still dreaming: there’s colorful dust laying right beside him.

Things slowly go back to how it was before. Milk and cookies start to go missing, music plays, sometimes he spots a flicker, and now he even finds notes scattered around the house.

“I can show myself, but do you promise not to tell anyone?” one such notes asks one day.

“I promise,” Jayce swears. “Please. I just want to see you again.”

One morning Jayce wakes not only to dust or flickering light or music, but a small creature sitting on his desk.

He has never been so happy before. They talk for hours, asking each other so many questions, Viktor gets to sit in Jayce’s warm palm, Jayce finally learns Viktor’s name.

Apparently fairies age much differently than humans. Humans age faster, for one.

In an effort to be together forever they do one more ritual. Jayce loses the mobility in his legs, but he gains one of Viktor’s wings.

Finally they can go wherever they want together.

…Heimerdinger is a little upset when he finds out but eventually forgives them.

#jayvik #viktor arcane #jayce talis #viktor #fic #au #fairy #alternate universe

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