#EVERY BODY BE CALM BE COOL BE COOL BE COOL

[dontbesoweirdkira]

There's just so much potential for platonic !yan Tim Drake that isn't really explored. This post may flop but I like to imagine that yan! Tim Drake is actually the worse out of all his brothers...

Masterlist

Requests: always open

Look...you and i both know that Tim is canonically unhinged. But Batsis!reader doesn't. It's so easy for you to forget that your brother Tim is so dangerous. I mean he doesn't really seem all that different from any other nerdy 19 year old. His body doesn't loom over you like the more bulky of your brothers, and his presence is rather...calming? I mean there's still a bit of uneasiness there but it's so subtle that you can brush it off

He's normal when he interacts with you. He doesn't bug you to spend time with him or uncomfortably touch you like Dick does. He is sweet and gentle...He knows how you prefer to be engaged with and respects what you don't like.

But, that's what makes him so dangerous. He knows you. Every. Last. Detail. He's gotten so good at being a nasty little fly on the wall that sometimes you forget he's even in the room. He's always around you, observing and collecting data. He's got you wrapped around his fingers and you don't realize it.

But it's not your fault. It's hard to even imagine that someone as mellow as Tim could ever share the same traits as his brothers.

Yan! Tim fully picked up just how intuitive you are and how you can spot red flags easily. He's so calculated and careful with every interaction. It's amazing how natural he makes these conversations flow. Well, they better. He's spent hours analyzing and practicing how to speak to you. His heart is pounding with anticipation, as every shred of information you give him is going right into his files on you.

Oh! The files he has on you? When Jason and Dick asked him about how many he had, he said only 4. Which is true. but those 4 files have much more information and pictures of you than they could comprehend. ...and he wasn't accounting for the hard drives and physical stacks of papers he stole. I believe Tim knows more about you than you do. When was the last time you've seen your medical records? Passports? Birth certificate? Is your ID even in your wallet? Don't worry, your brother Tim is keeping them safe for you.

Yan! Tim is a little stalker who may or may not have put a tracking/listening devices in your bag so he can keep tabs on you. <33 That's why he's always wearing headphones so he cab listen in. A small piece of missed information could cost him so much. Don't be mad, batsis! He cannot risk making you suspicious of him by asking you invasive questions so this is the only way.

I Like to think you automatically sit by him. whether it be during breakfast, watching a movie or in the car. You feel safer with him and it's a better option in your head than being with Dick who will be overbearing. Tim always acts cool, even a little annoyed by you at times but inside he's screaming. Your scent, your small smiles at him and nudge his shoulders when he makes a funny remark all send him into overdrive.

But i must say, it's exhausting for him to hold back his obsession all of the time. Sometimes he envies his siblings and how shameless they are in their obsessions. Tim Drake thinks about how great it would to be to just be hugged by you or for you to want to fall asleep on him like you do with Jason.

Sometimes, our creepy detective will slip up. He will say or do something that is odd to you

"I cannot remember the name of that song i used to listen to...what was it.."

"It's this one by that local band, sis."

"oh, yeah! wait...how did you-"

"I know you better than i know myself..."

"...what?"

*an incident happened where dick basically forced you to say i love you back. Tim was there and he was so so jealous*

"You love me the most though, right?"

You laughed, thinking it was a joke\

"Sure, Tim. You are my favorite Robin."

*Tim is very visibly becoming feral. Almost in the same way as Dick and you are slightly alarmed*

"...I'm your favorite Robin? So you do love me more than them."

"0-o"

He repeats it over and over again in his mind. If he was recording it like he does with many of your interaction, it will be on instant replay every morning as an affirmation.

That one time you were chilling in the study with Tim. His head was ducked, low into the computer. It was super late by this time and you didn't really want to bother him so you ended up leaving without saying anything, and headed to your room. Tim was beyond hurt that you were breaking his version of bonding time and you had the audacity to not even announce your exit. He's so swift that it startled you when he grabbed your wrist from behind. His grip was....strong.... to say the least..... and he questioned why you were leaving him.

speaking of his strength, Tim is so skinny that you forget he is well trained with a nice bit of muscle. Maybe not as strong as his brothers or Bruce but he can easily subdue you.

He's definitely broken a lock or two, to get into your room at the dead of night and watch you sleep. This is the only time when he can be as fucked up as he wants to. The unhinged look in his eyes while going through your things and taking what's interesting..The adrenaline that you might catch him, excites him. He can't help but to sickly smile as he makes his way over to you and observes. A gentle hand caresses the sides of your face. You're so perfect. He whispers on and on things he wishes he could tell you while you were awake and wouldn't think it was weird....

Maybe even once he's crawled into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you. So happy to be able to finally be able to cuddle like this.

And if you happened to wake up, and realize your dear brother, Tim was there...he has a plan for that. He knows how to play mind games on you and makes you seem like the crazy one. No one would believe you anyways. The locks are all fixed by the morning.

[littlelamy]

beach fun with sarah

sarah c x female reader - insipred by this post by the amazing @nemesyaaa <3

The night air felt cool against your heated skin, but the warmth radiating from Sarah was intoxicating. You both lay there, bodies intertwined in the soft sand, the sound of the waves a calming backdrop to the electric tension still lingering in the air.

“What do you think everyone’s doing?” you asked, your voice low, not wanting to break the spell of intimacy that surrounded you.

“Probably wondering where we went,” Sarah said with a laugh, her fingers still dancing across your skin. “But I really don’t care right now.”

“Me neither,” you admitted, feeling completely lost in the moment.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you leaned in closer, whispering, “You know, I didn’t expect this when I came to the beach tonight.”

Sarah chuckled softly, her eyes glinting with mischief. “What did you expect? Just another bonfire with friends?”

“Honestly, yeah,” you replied with a grin.

“Well, sometimes the best moments happen when you least expect them,” she said, her gaze serious.

You nodded, appreciating the weight of her words. “I’m really glad we ended up here,” you confessed, your heart racing.

“Me too,” she replied, leaning in to steal another kiss. This one was softer, slower, filled with the warmth of shared secrets and promises. You melted into it, feeling the world around you fade away.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel the warmth pooling in your core again, desire flaring back to life. “Sarah,” you whispered against her lips, your heart pounding in your chest.

She pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “What do you want?”

With a smirk, you reached down and tugged at the hem of your tiny tank top, pulling it up to expose your bare chest to her gaze. “I want you,” you said, your voice low and sultry, filled with confidence.

Her eyes widened slightly, and a smile broke out on her face. “God, you’re stunning,” she breathed, her voice thick with lust. The way she looked at you sent a thrill through your body, igniting a fire of desire that burned brightly.

“Touch me,” you urged, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart racing as you watched her reaction.

With deliberate slowness, Sarah reached out, her fingers brushing against your bare tits. The warmth of her touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you gasped, arching into her hand. She explored your chest, her fingertips dancing over your sensitive nipples, teasing them lightly.

“Like this?” she asked, her voice low, and the mischief in her eyes sent another wave of heat through you.

“Yes, just like that,” you breathed, craving her touch.

She leaned down, her lips brushing against your nipples as she continued to tease you with her fingers. The sensations were overwhelming, and you could feel the tension building again, every flick and pull of her fingers sending you higher.

“You’re so responsive,” she murmured, her breath warm against your skin. “It’s driving me wild.”

“Good,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips, feeling the rush of desire washing over you.

With a sudden rush of boldness, she pulled down your tiny tank top further, exposing more of your skin to her eager gaze. “Damn, you’re perfect,” she said, her eyes roaming over you with unrestrained hunger.

“Sarah,” you gasped, feeling vulnerable yet empowered under her gaze.

“Just relax,” she whispered, leaning in to press soft kisses along your collarbone and down to your chest, each touch igniting every nerve ending in your body. You felt a thrill rush through you, your breath hitching at the intimacy of her touch as she kissed lower, trailing her lips across your skin.

“God, you feel so good,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire as she captured your nipple between her lips again, sucking gently. The sensations danced through you, pushing you toward the edge, and your body instinctively responded, arching toward her.

As her mouth worked magic on you, you felt her hand sliding down your body, her fingers brushing against your stomach, drawing nearer to the heat pooling between your legs. A shiver ran through you as she continued her teasing journey down, her touch feather-light, sending your heart racing.

“Sarah,” you gasped, the anticipation building as she neared your core. “Please.”

“Please what?” she teased, her lips pulling away momentarily to look you in the eye, her voice low and sultry.

“Touch me,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with desperation. You could see the desire swirling in her eyes, her expression a mix of mischief and longing.

“Whatever you want,” she said with a wicked smile, her fingers finally finding their way to the hem of your shorts. With a swift motion, she pulled them down, exposing you completely to her gaze.

“Wow,” she breathed, her eyes sparkling with hunger. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Heat flooded your cheeks at her words, but the embarrassment quickly melted away as she leaned down, her lips brushing against your inner thighs, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through you. “You like that?” she asked, looking up at you with a devilish grin.

“Yes, more,” you urged, your body begging for her touch.

She wasted no time, her mouth pressing kisses along your thighs before her fingers began to explore. Slowly, she slid one finger between your folds, her touch teasing and light, building the tension inside you. You gasped, your body instinctively responding, craving more.

“God, you’re so wet,” she murmured, her breath hot against your skin as she added another finger, pushing deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of her fingers inside you and the heat of her mouth trailing down your thighs making you dizzy with pleasure.

“Sarah,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you felt the pressure building inside you. “Just like that.”

She picked up the pace, her fingers working in and out of you with perfect rhythm, while her thumb brushed against your clit, sending jolts of ecstasy through your body. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, the tension rising to an unbearable level.

“Let go for me, baby,” she coaxed, her voice smooth and sultry, her eyes locked onto yours, watching the pleasure build on your face.

You felt your breath quickening, the world around you fading away as you focused solely on the sensations she was creating. “I’m so close,” you gasped, every nerve ending on fire as she continued her relentless pace, her fingers curling just right inside you.

“Come for me,” she urged, her voice thick with lust as she leaned in, capturing your lips again, swallowing your moans as the tension finally snapped.

With a cry of her name, you let go, pleasure washing over you in intense waves, your body trembling as you rode out the blissful high. Each wave of ecstasy coursed through you, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

As you came down from the high, Sarah slowed her movements, her fingers gently withdrawing. She crawled back up beside you, her expression softening as she looked at you with a mix of affection and desire.

“Wow,” you breathed, still reeling from the intensity of what just happened.

“Yeah, wow,” she echoed, a soft smile spreading across her face. “You’re incredible.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, the warmth of her words wrapping around you like a blanket. The moonlight danced in her eyes, illuminating the spark of connection that felt stronger than ever.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, feeling vulnerable yet empowered in her presence.

“Anytime,” she replied, brushing her fingers along your cheek, her touch tender and reassuring. “I want to explore this—us—more. Whenever you’re ready.”

You nodded, a rush of warmth flooding your chest at the thought. “I’d like that,” you confessed, your heart racing at the possibilities that lay ahead.

As you lay there, tangled in each other, the sounds of the beach and the distant laughter of friends faded into the background. It was just you and Sarah, the world outside forgotten, wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s bodies, ready to embrace whatever came next.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafecameroninterlude @sstargirln

[wonsdoll]

SUNBURNT ── SJY

PREC𝓲S ｡｡ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋

심재윤 ／⠀𝑓𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 reader ── heavily suggestive + non 𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑙 au ｡｡ re—upload hehe !! my ogs remember this >_< ∿ ✦ more

THERE HE WAS... shirtless out in the sun on his front yard. you couldn't help but blush when you saw this abs glazed in sweat due to the heat. his black sunglasses rested on the bridge nose as he soaked in every bit of sunlight.

sim jaeyun, your handsome, flirty next door neighbor. ever since he moved into the neighborhood, he always found his way to be near you. it started with his soccer ball landed on your yard, he would knock on your door asking if he can come get it.

now there he was, laying on a towel; shirtless. you couldn't help but stare, watching him lay out in the sun. you continued to stare, making sure you weren't so obvious, or so you thought.

"hey pretty." you near jake call out.

"oh hey.. what're doing out on this humid day?" you casually played it off.

"just soaking in some sun you know? say, wanna help me out for a second doll?" he asks, creating a small pain in your chest.

his question makes your heart skip a small beat, you were hesitate; before agreeing without any second thought. "okay." you replied, walking over to his yard.

jake sat up in his spot, putting out a tube of cooling liquid. "do me a favor doll and rub this on my abs? i've got a really bad sunburn."

his question made your face flush mixes of red and pink, you didn't know what to say for a second. your hot neighbor wants you to rub a cooling liquid on his abs, he wants you to touch him.

"how come? why can't you do it?" you ask jake, curious as to why he would want you place your delicate hand on his skin.

"cmon doll, you have a soft touch. and not gonna lie it's burning me. would you do it? please pretty?" jake slightly begs, trying to not sound desperate; but also hide the pain of his sunburn.

you feel bad jake was suffering with a really bad sunburn, especially on a delicate place on his body. you pour some of the cooling liquid onto the palm of your hand, before sliding it onto jake's toned, tight, ridged abs.

you stopped as your palm hit his abs, rubbing his abs gently; allowing the cooling liquid to spread. a low groan left jake's lips.

"how's that?" you asked, wondering if your touch alongside the cooling liquid calmed down the burning sensation on his skin.

"thank you doll, i told you that you have a gentle and delicate touch." he bit his lip. "i should burn my abs more often." jake joked, a small laugh leaving his lips.

you playfully rolled "yeah yeah. i'll see you around jae." you began to walk back to your place, that was until jake called back for you.

"doll face, come back here."

you turned back, stepping foot back in his lawn. jake approached you more closer, his hands reached your waist; pulling you closer to him. his eyes met with yours, a flirty smile resting in his lips.

"how about a reward? for being such a good neighbor and helping me out."

"reward? what were you thinking?" you asked curiously.

jake paused, no words left his mouth; before his lips met with yours.

his tongue lapping on yours, his grip on your waist gaining tighter. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your lips crashed. his veiny hands make their way to the bottom of your tank top, caressing the small exposed skin available to touch. his hands made their way under your top, resting onto your lower back.

he pulls away from your lips, a small smirk on his face. "you're so gorgeous.. fuck" he groans before he kisses your neck, sending a rush of desire to you. "are you free later?" he asks, pulling away from your body slightly.

"well i'm going out with some friends later..." you replied, a slight frown falling onto jake's face as he hears your response.

"well cancel them doll, i need every minute i can get to savor every inch of that body." jake smirked, his hands finding its way back to your waist.

[starsjulia]

for understanding // leah williamson

a/n : everyone experiences neurodivergence differently, and this isn’t an accurate representation of all neurodivergent people, this is solely based of my personal experience with autism, though neurodivergence comes in many different forms and not just autism.

leah williamson x neurodivergent!reader

part of the perfect universe

The restaurant is beautiful, with low lighting, flickering candles, and soft music drifting from speakers tucked in the corners. You know Leah wanted tonight to feel special. She’d spent the last few days excitedly planning, keeping the details a secret. And you’d felt her excitement too—until you actually stepped inside.

Now, seated across from her, you can feel your pulse quickening in a way that has nothing to do with anticipation. The hum of voices, the clinking of silverware, the constant movement all around you—it feels like the walls are slowly pressing in, making it hard to concentrate on the menu or on anything at in all honestly. You attempt to meet Leah’s gaze, forcing a smile, but your hands are trembling slightly, and you’re sure she’s noticed.

“Hey,” Leah says gently, her eyes softening as she reaches across the table for your hand. She gives it a reassuring squeeze, her thumb rubbing circles against your skin in a way that usually calms you. “You good?”

The words catch in your throat. You don’t want to disappoint her, not when she’s gone to so much effort. You know how much this evening means to her, and you don’t want to ruin it. But every part of you wants to leave, to escape the noise and the lights and be somewhere quieter.

Leah watches you closely, her expression shifting as she seems to read the discomfort on your face. Her hand tightens around yours, and her smile turns soft, understanding. “You know what,” she says, almost as if she’s talking to herself, “I really can’t stop thinking about those new pyjamas we bought, the really soft and warm ones, and sitting by the fire place? do you mind if we go back home?”

You blink, taken aback. She’s suggesting exactly what you want—without you even having to ask. Relief floods over you so quickly it’s almost overwhelming, and you nod, unable to speak past the lump in your throat.

Leah smiles, her eyes warm, and she waves over the waiter to ask if they can pack everything up to go. Within minutes, you’re walking back out into the cool night air, her arm looped through yours. As you breathe in the quiet of the night, you feel the tension in your body finally beginning to ease. Leah’s hand squeezes yours gently, and she glances over at you with a reassuring smile.

Back at home, Leah quickly lights the fireplace and puts on one of your favorite playlists, turning the volume down low. She comes over with the takeout bags, setting everything up on the coffee table. The flickering glow of the fire casts warm shadows across the room, and you can already feel your muscles relax as the heat starts to fill the room. You settle down onto the couch, pulling a soft blanket over your lap, and Leah sits beside you, her arm wrapping around your shoulders.

She nudges a takeout container towards you, grinning as she unwraps her own. “See? Much better,” she murmurs, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “No crowds, no noise—just us.”

You nod, feeling the weight lift a little more with every second in her presence. “It is really really nice,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence, occasionally laughing over shared bites or nudging each other to try something new. There’s no pressure, no rush—just the simple joy of being together. And as the fire crackles softly beside you, you realize you’ve never felt so at ease.

After dinner, Leah suggests making hot chocolate, and you watch as she disappears into the kitchen, humming softly. When she returns, she’s carrying two steaming mugs, the tops piled high with whipped cream and marshmallows. She hands you one, settling back onto the couch beside you, her fingers lacing through yours.

“You know,” she says, her voice soft, “I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to hide how you’re feeling. If something’s too much, you can tell me. I’m here for you, I would genuinely do anything in the world if it meant you were happy and comfortable”

You take a shaky breath, her words filling you with a warmth that has nothing to do with the fire or the hot chocolate. “Sometimes… it’s just kinda hard to say it out loud,” you admit, your gaze fixed on the marshmallows melting in your mug. “I don’t want to let you down.”

Leah tilts her head, giving you a small, understanding smile. “You could never let me down,” she whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Your comfort is more important to me than any silly dinner reservation, and in my opinion everyone there seemed too posh and stuck up for my liking”

You look up, meeting her gaze, and your heart swells at the sincerity in her eyes. She means it. She’s always been patient with you, understanding in a way that makes you feel like you’re finally seen. And sitting here, wrapped up together with the night stretching peacefully ahead, you realize just how deeply you love her.

As the fire begins to die down, Leah pulls you closer, tucking you into her side, your head resting on her shoulder. You feel her hand gently rubbing your arm, a steady, soothing motion that slowly lulls you into a state of contentment. The world outside feels far away, and all that matters is this moment—this quiet, perfect moment with her.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?” she asks, her voice equally soft.

“For… knowing me. For understanding me.”

Leah presses a kiss to the top of your head, her fingers still tracing gentle circles against your arm. “I’m just lucky I get to love you,” she says, her words a quiet promise. “And I’ll always be here for you, okay? No matter what.”

You close your eyes, letting her words wrap around you like a blanket. In her arms, with the soft glow of the fire casting warmth over the room, you feel a peace you’ve never known before. And as you drift off in her embrace, you know, without a doubt, that this is exactly where you belong.

[hello-sweetheart]

Neat Freak

Steve’s parents don’t make him keep the house spotless. He really is just that clean and when Nancy tries to tell people there like “lol, sure” but she knows.

He’s a neat freak.

When she would stay over she would change into her pjs and make a small bundle of her day clothes on his desk chair, and steve would just. Fold them. Before getting in bed with her.

Doesn’t take long after for the others to realize it.

Robin thought it was just a guy thing, caring that much about their car. Scolding her for kicking her socked feet up on the dash, and leaving crumbs of toast when she had breakfast to go.

But then she visits his house the first time and Robin has never been good at using a coaster, too scatter brained to pay attention where she sets her drink down each time.

Steve, though? Without missing a beat he will move her glass to the coaster. Every time. Doesn’t even break his strike or pauses his conversation it’s just muscle memory by now.

The kids have had their will broken and no longer put up a fight.

Without being told to anymore, they toe off their shoes and hang their coat by the doorway. They don’t even do that in their own home. How Steve was able to get those wild animals house broken? No body knows.

His mom didn’t actually choose his room decor. It looks a bit barren but Steve likes it that way. It looks clean, easier to do so, too. Everything has its place tucked away from sight so it’s not an eye sore.

Even his plaid wallpaper and curtains he chose for himself. He spent all day finding the curtains that matched the closest and he was really proud of himself when found some.

“Steve, buddy, this looks mental.”

“But look,” (closest the curtains to show that even the pattern lines up seemlessly) “you almost can’t even see the difference between the wall and fabric. It’s like magic! It’s cool!” >:(

He’s very meticulous about his appearance. Dustin is absolutely flabbergasted when he sees his full hair routine for himself. Everything must be done a certain way in a certain order every time. It’s routine.

“Three puffs of the Farah Fawcett! THREE!”

“I DID THREE.”

“YEAH, BUT YOU DID THEM WRONG.”

When they discontinue it, Steve has a mini breakdown. He doesn’t like that his very specific and set routine has been broken. He’s convinced he’ll never find a hair spray to replace it. Everybody stocks up on cans of it to try and lower his anxiety.

He just loves cleaning, okay?

Ironing his kakis and polos until there are no wrinkles is so satisfying. Glass without finger smudges is so nice. His closet being organized by color is so efficient. When he’s worried, anxious, or angry he likes to keep his hands busy and it just calms him down going ham on a water stain in the bathroom.

When he hangs out at Eddie’s, he mindlessly starts picking things up here and there. It’s like heaven for him. He sees a mess and just wants to go to town. Eddie doesn’t mind as long as he knows where everything is in the end. He’ll admit that having his music organized alphabetically is pretty convenient.

It’s also a little funny to watch Steve iron his ripped jeans and battle jacket with an iron he brought from home.

“You’re a freak, Harrington.” Eddie has a shit eating grin. Steve flips him off.

“Fuck off.”

[mynicosensesaretingling]

Mic Check: Feelings Engaged

A Bono x fem! (Y/N) reader story

Summary: When Bono’s radio mic goes haywire , (Y/N) offers her colleague a helping hand, leading to an unexpected moment of intimacy between the pair with the teasing comments from Lewis only adding fuel to the fire.

Warnings: None except it’s been written in my notes app

Notes: I wanted to write something for Bono for so long now , since he’s so incredibly dear to me. So now I just did- anyways I hope there aren’t any mistakes and that you enioy this little story x

—-

It’s a bustling Friday practice session at the track, and the air is filled with the familiar sounds of mechanics working, engines revving, and the steady hum of team radios crackling to life. Bono stands in the Mercedes garage, his eyes flicking over the various data streams on the monitors in front of him as Lewis sends feedback through the radio. There’s a calm professionalism to him, his headset settled snugly over his ears as he keeps his cool amidst the chaos of the session.

(Y/N), working a few stations over, is equally immersed in her role, running through telemetry data and keeping an eye on the numbers as they stream in. It’s her second full season working with the team, and although the work is often intense, the environment feels like home. Especially with Bono around. There’s something comforting about his expertise, his quiet focus—and maybe, though she’d never say it aloud, something undeniably attractive too.

Attentively watching the data presented to her , the buzzing noise of the track outside the garage slowly but surely becomes more of a background noise to (Y/N) —until she hears Bono curse softly under his breath. Looking over at the engineer, she finds him fiddling with the mic on his radio headset.

“I’m losing audio,” he mutters, mostly to himself, his fingers rapidly tapping at the small mic attached to his headset. The frustration is clear on his face. His eyebrows drawn together in a frown, as he tries to fix the issue without missing a beat in his ongoing strategy communications.

Without thinking much about it, (Y/N) walks over to the man, noticing his struggle. “Need a hand?”

Bono looks up, his brows slightly raising, surprised by her offer. “Yeah, I think the mic’s loose. Keeps cutting in and out,” he says, his voice lower than usual, the usual steady control in his tone replaced by just a hint of frustration. Stepping closer, (Y/N) notices the faint flush creeping up his neck as he tries to juggle the malfunction and his job.

“Let me take a look,” she says, voice gentle as she steps right in front of him. Bono’s eyes stay fixed on her for a moment before he gives a small nod, lowering his head slightly so she has easier access to the mic. It’s the simplest of gestures, but (Y/N)’s heart skips a beat—being this close to him, especially in the middle of the chaos of the garage, feels strangely intimate.

(Y/N)’s hands lift to adjust the mic, her fingers brushing his cheek ever so slightly, as she reattaches the microphone more securely. His skin is warm under her fingertips, and the moment she touches him, she notices the slightest inhale from Bono, though he stays incredibly still, as if he’s afraid to move.

The garage feels smaller now, the noise fading into the background as (Y/N) concentrates on the mic, trying to focus on the task but fully aware of how close she is to the race engineer. Every brush of her hand sends a spark of awareness through her body. Focusing on the task at hand she feels Bono’s eyes on her form, though he’s trying his best to keep it professional.

“Okay, try now,” (Y/N) murmurs, stepping back slightly to give him some space. Bono clears his throat, his hand reaching up to adjust the mic himself, fingers brushing where hers had just been. He’s back to business in an instant, but there’s an edge to his voice as he speaks into the mic.

“Lewis, do you copy? How’s the connection now?” Bono’s voice is steady, but the slightest tension remains in his shoulders as he waits for a response.

There’s a brief pause before Lewis’s voice crackles through the radio, loud and clear. “Yeah, I hear you loud and clear, Bono. Thought you’d left me hanging there for a minute,” Lewis teases, but before Bono can respond, Lewis’s voice returns, this time with a playful lilt. “Wait a minute… was that her fixing your mic? That surely sounded like her voice ,mate.”

Bono’s reaction is immediate—he lets out an exasperated sigh, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, but keeping her focus on him, (Y/N) can see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Lewis, focus on your out-lap,” Bono says, his voice firm but with a warmth that betrays his usual stoicism. Slightly shaking his head, he’s trying to suppress his embarrassment, but the smile that’s breaking through is impossible to miss.

“Oh, I’m focused,” Lewis replies, his tone mischievous. “Just thought I’d ask. Should I leave you two to it, or are we going to talk about strategy?”

Glancing back at (Y/N), Bono catches her eye for a brief moment, both of them sharing an amused, slightly embarrassed look. There’s a tension between the pair, but the humor in Lewis’s words manages to cut through it, making the moment feel lighter.

Bono lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head as he taps on the mic. “Yeah, let’s focus on the strategy. We’ll debrief later, Lewis.”

The radio crackles again as Lewis’s laughter comes through. “Sure, sure. But, just saying—‘bout time you two got close. We’ve all seen it coming.”

Bono’s face flushes at that, and he quickly turns back to the monitors, his fingers tapping at the keyboard, pretending to be fully immersed in his work. (Y/N), on the other hand,feels a mixture of embarrassment and… something else, as she walks back to her station. The way Lewis spoke, as if everyone had noticed the way her and Bono seem to gravitate toward each other, leaves the woman flustered. Was it really that obvious?

“Well, uh,” Bono calls , clearing his throat again, “thanks for fixing that. Shouldn’t have trouble now.”

(Y/N) nods, her heart still pounding as she tries to shake off Lewis’s teasing. “No problem,” she says through a slightly awkward chuckle. There’s still something hanging in the air between them, something unspoken.

Bono glances over at her once more before looking away, his lips pressing together like he’s holding something back. For a second, it feels like he might say something, but before he can, the team radio crackles again.

“Bono,” Lewis calls, his voice still carrying that teasing edge, “when’s the next date? Need me to clear the schedule?”

(Y/N) can’t help but laugh softly, shaking her head as Bono rolls his eyes. “You’re impossible, Lewis,” he mutters, though his voice is lighter now, the moment of tension dissolving into something more comfortable. He presses the radio switch again, sighing dramatically. “Focus on the driving, will you?”

Lewis just laughs in response, clearly pleased with himself, and Bono, despite his best efforts to maintain his usual professionalism, can’t help but let out a soft chuckle as well.

As the practice session winds down, the garage starts to return to its usual rhythm, but the brief moment of closeness between herself and Bono lingers in the back of (Y/N)’s mind. Every now and then, she catches him glancing in her direction, and when her eyes meet his, there’s a flicker of something unspoken—a spark that neither of the two can ignore.

And though nothing more is said between the pair, there’s an undeniable shift. (Y/N) can still feel the weight of his gaze, the soft smile that tugged at his lips, and the teasing words of Lewis echoing in the back of her mind.

Maybe Lewis was right—maybe it was about time.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

TW: crazy Clayton Beresford because there's so little of him on this app

Author's note: reminding everyone interested about bunnycember :)

You sat on the floor of CLAYTON'S BERESFORD office, your heart pounding with nervousness. The air felt thick in your lungs with everything that had happened between you two over the last year. The sound of soft rustling of papers and the ticking of the clock on the wall opoosite you did nothing to calm your nerves..excitement

You were on your knees, the cool wood beneath you a stark contrast to the heat already building in your core. Between your lips, you held the report you were supposed to deliver..at this point, it was a tradition - you bringing the report in each the most sexual possible way and him in return, thanking you in the most pleasurable, delicious way the boss could thank his devoted secretary

oh, how you loved to be his secretary

Clayton's gaze was heavy on you as he sat behind his massive, sleek desk, his eyes dark with something more intense than any regular business interaction. His jaw clenched, those sharp blue eyes tracking your every moment as you began crawling towards him like a cat. His control was like a tightly wound coil, ready to snap at any moment. The muscles in his arms flexed as he gripped the arms of the chair, his perfectly tailored suit doing little to hide the strenght beneath

He loved to watch you like this - vulnerable, submitting to his silent command without needing a word. It was intoxicating to him - the power he held over you without trying, how he didn't need to say anything to make you do things, even the most disturbing ones

"Come here, sweetheart" his voice finally broke the silence, low and rough. That familiar, dangerous edge sent a shiver down your spine "bring me that report"

Your knees brushed against the floor when you reached the beloved desk and lifted your face to meet his eyes. You could see this familiar hunger in his gaze, how his nostrils flared slighty as you sat up on your knees, our lips releasing the file to carefully handle it to clay's hand

"good girl" he looked at the file that had lipstain of your lipstick you always wore to work before tossing it carelessly on the desk. His large hand reached out, cupping your chin gently, forcing you to keep your eyes on him "Is this how my reports are supposed to be delivered now? On your knees, like the obedient little thing you are?"

You could barely contain the heat pooling between your thighs when his thumb traced your bottom lip, smearing the lipstick over your mouth "yes, Mr.Beresford" you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. knowing how much he loved to hear you call him that

"good girl" he repeated the praise in a low, smooth rumble that seemed dangerously calm. The constant praise made your body tingle all way around with the thrill of it - you were his good girl. He saw you as his good girl..

His thumb pushed between your lips, and on an instant, your tongue twirled around the digit as if it was something else you would have in your mouth

"You like teasing me like this?" you swore you could see him getting already hard "walking into my office, looking like you want me to bend you over this desk?"

"Yes, Mr. Beresford" you whispered before he pulled out his wet thumb in your saliva

this was it.

"Stand up" he ordered

You obediently rose, legs a little shaky as if your whole body already was prepared what was to come, as if it knew perfectly what was about to come. Before you could actually take a breath in, Clay was behind you. His hands were on your hips, tugging your skirt up roughly over your ass, exposing the lace panties you knew would drive him insane. His touch was firm, his fingers digging into your skin as he pressed himself against your back, his hardness unmistakable against your butt

"What am i going to do with you?" he whispered his breath hot against your ear, making you melt, making you gulp, making you feel this delicious excitement mixed with nervousness pooling in your belly

One of his hands slid lower, slipping beneath the thin lace of your panties, teasing the slickness between your thighs with his thumb that just seconds ago, was in your mouth "so wet already.."

you moaned softly, your head tilting back against his chest as his finger slid through your folds, teasing but never quite giving you what you needed

"I've got a meeting in a few minutes" he murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck, then biting down gently, making you gasp "And here you were, on your knees, begging me to fuck you"

"I'msorry, sir.." you whimpered, knowing full well he didn't want an apology

"No, you're not" he growled, pulling his hand away just as quickly as he'd begun. He bended you over the desk, with no care about the papers and other stuff there was. He deliberately made sure your ass was exposed and in a quick moment his hand came down on your butt in a sharp smack, the sting of it spreading through your body like wildfire

you let out a soft cry, the sudden heat making you arch against him. He spanked you again, harder this time, the sound of it echoing through the office

"That's what you deserve, isn't it?" his voice was rough, a touch of amusement in his tone as he watched you squirm under his touch - no pulling away, no crying, begging him to stop - just arching yourself to him as if already inviting him to do whatever he wanted with you, that was your obedience

"You love it when i punish you like this" came out more as a statement rather than a question

You could barely form words, the sharp sting of his hand and the overwhelming heat between your legs making you already dizzy "Y-yes, Mr. Beresford.."

He pulled down your panties in one swift movement, the lace sliding down your legs before he tossed them aside carelessly. His hand came down on your bare ass again, the force of it making you cry out

"If you were mine" he whispered darkly, his hand roughly kneading your red ass cheeks "you wouldn't be able to sit down for a week"

You whimpered at his words, the promise of it sending a shudder through your body. But all you could do was cling to the desk, your breath coming in shaky gasps as he slowly unbuckled his belt behind you, the sound of metal clinking making your heart race. You could hear the sound of his zipper, the rustle of his pants as he freed himself, and then you felt him - thick, hot, pressing against your soaked entrance

He teased you for a moment longer, rubbing the head of his cock against your ass before pushing into you slowly - you were already trembling, every nevr ending on fire as he filled you inch by inch until you were sure you couldn't tale any more

He groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping your hips as he stilled, letting you adjust to the sheer size of him

"So tight.." he groaned, his fingers digging into your plush hips as he held you in place, stretching you until you were gasping, your body clenching around him so beautifully, so perfeclty like always "You feel so damn good, sweetheart.."

"Mr. Beresford.." you moaned, the sensation almost too much to handle

At the sound of his name, leaving your mouth as if you sang a prayer, he began to move, slow at first. His hips rolled into you with a steady rhythm that had you panting even more, eyes rolling behind your head in ecstacy. Each thrust made the desk creak beneath you, and you swore only him could make you feel like this. Like you were on the cloud nine, floating in the air, feeling so light, so perfect

His hand slipped around the front, fingers finding your clit and rubbing slow, lazy circles, just enough to drive you completely insane

"Such a pretty little thing.." he murmured "But so fucking bad, distracting me like this when i have meetings to attend"

"Mr.Beresford--" you gasped, trying to hold onto something, anything (which led to the papers falling on the floor) while he continued to take you, each thrust pushing you cloer and closer to the edge

"That's right baby.." he whimpered, his grip on your hips tightening as he pushed you harder against the desk "Say my name. Let me hear how good I'm fucking you"

"Mr.Beresford..Clay.." you moaned, your voice barely a whisper when your body began to trmeble, the pleasure building to an unbearable level

"You love this, don't you?" his pace picked up, moving in and out of you faster, harder "Love being fucked by your boss, righ here in the office"

His pace was relentless, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body, not mentioning his fingers that were touching your swollen folds. His free hand came down on your ass again, harder than the last time. You could barely think, could barely breathe, yet you still held to not to come until you get permission to - by CLAYTON BERESFORD himself

"come for me baby" finally "Come all over my cock"

that was all it took, all you needed to hear. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body clenching around him when you bite your lower lip to not scream his name out loud - letting only a long, plesant moan. Clayton moaned almost painfully as you tightened around him (not really caring about making noise), his own release following soon after, spilling into you so deliciously before he thrusted one last time, burying himself deep inside you for the last time, as if to memorize how perfect your core hugged his lenght

For a moment, the only sound in the office was the heavy breathing of both of you. He pulled out slowly, his hands sliding over your hips, his touch now gentler as he helped you stand and even dress up. Your mind barely proceded the fact that he's no longer inside of you, but now tenderly helping you dress up on your shaky legs

He kissed the back of your neck softly, his large hands smoothing down your skirt as if nothing had just happened "Now" he murmured, his voice back to its usual calm, controlled tone "we have a meeting to attend"

You could barely think straight, let alone walk, yet somehow you managed a breathless smile "Yes, Mr. Beresford"

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo

[pocket-watcher]

I really loved the massage fic you did awhile ago! I don't really have another idea but could you do another one like that?

Hiya anon! My ongoing back pain and I can definitely dream something up for you!!

“…Why the hell are you standing like that?”

Aiysha’s disapproving gaze looked over Henry, who was contorting his body to stand in the most unnatural way possible.

“This is the only way I can stand where the pain is tolerable.” He whined.

Aiysha tutted. “You’re a grown man, Henry, I told you that this was going to catch up with you! You can’t sit like a gremlin while you work anymore.”

Henry shifted, whimpering in pain quietly.

Aiysha cared. A lot. More than she’d like to admit, and seeing her friend in pain? Well…

“Ugh. Fine, look.” She fished a card out of her purse and handed it to Henry. It read:

DR. MONTGOMERY

Liscenced masseuse and chiropractor

The address wasn’t too far from his house, Henry thought to himself.

“When I broke my back he worked magic. Maybe he’ll be able to help you.”

Henry thanked her, and she pulled him into a hug, and he felt his back twinge in pain.

Yeah, he’d need to make an appointment. Today, if possible.

—————————

“Henry Williams?” The receptionist called out.

He stood, and allowed himself to be navigated to a room where presumably Dr. Montgomery was waiting for him.

“Ah! Henry! What seems to be the problem?” The man asked, as Henry hopped up onto the massage table.

“So, uh, my posture isn’t great, and my whole back hurts. I don’t think it’s like anything wrong, just all my muscles aching a lot.” He explained.

The doctor scribbled some notes as Henry talked.

“Okay, if you can take off your clothes and lie down on the table then we can start, and if the problems persist I can talk to you about further treatment. How does that sound?”

“That sounds great, thank you!” Henry began unbuttoning his top and the doctor looked away. Henry positioned himself, a towel covering him.

As he put his face through the hole in the massage table he noticed a screen below it.

“Oh, cool! What does this do?”

He could hear the doctor approaching him.

“We use it to play soothing music and visuals to help our clients relax. Here, let me show you.”

The doctor bent down and flipped a switch. The screen came to life, playing a soothing video of the ocean.

Henry felt the cool touch of hands on his back and allowed himself to melt into the table.

Dr. Montgomery’s hands worked expertly, as if the man knew exactly where the pain was coming from.

Henry bit back moans of relief, trying to focus on the screen below and not the glorious feeling of relieved tension.

The screen might have glitched a little. It was like another image was burned on top of the calming beach video.

He didn’t cock his head in confusion. No, it was more that the doctor had moved it to one side to get at a particularly bad knot in Henry’s shoulder.

A few moans escaped.

Henry kept watching the video. He realised they were words. Words burnt into the screen. He tried to make them out as his body sank into the massage table.

S…sub…mit?

That’s weird, he thought to himself.

Another:

Obey.

Giv…e in

Relax

The words became clearer the more he focused on them.

Deeper

Pleasure

Control

Henry’s mind, unfortunately, was too relaxed to panic. The combination of the calming atmosphere, the relief of the massage, and the subliminal messaging being beamed into his brain for the last 10 minutes had carefully moulded him into a puddle, with any resistance leaving his body with every moan and whine.

Dr. Montgomery tutted.

“You’re not taking care of yourself. You need to sit properly. Stand every once in a while. Maybe even a light stretch.”

The words washed over Henry, taking up all the free space that PAIN had previously occupied. He tried to agree, to nod, but all he could do was stare.

“Once this massage is over you’re going to forget all about this little talk we’re having, and you’re going to start being more sensible with how you work and how you sit. Aren’t you?”

Henry murmured in response. Which turned into a heavy breath as the doctor pushed down onto a sore point.

“Atta’ boy.”

Aiysha waited outside for Henry, but something was pulling her inside. Sure, her back was fine now - but a little self pampering never hurt anyone…?

Before she could make an appointment Henry, with a spring in his step, greeted her outside.

“You look better.” She grinned.

“I owe you, like, my whole life. Dinner? On me?”

Aiysha smiled at the building.

“Sounds great.”

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Possession: a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley x Jimmy Uso fanfic.

Chapter 4: I’m a survivor..

Jimmy held Rhea close, feeling the way her body shook with each quiet sob. He hated seeing her like this—vulnerable, raw, breaking. And he hated Jey even more for being the reason behind it. His hands instinctively tightened around her, a fierce protectiveness rising in his chest, a silent vow that he’d never let anyone hurt her like this again.

“Let him cool off,” Jimmy murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “He’ll talk when he’s ready. Right now, you need to take care of yourself.”

Rhea nodded slowly, her face buried in his shoulder, absorbing his warmth and steady presence. His words were like an anchor, grounding her amidst the whirlwind of emotions tearing her apart inside. She took a shaky breath, finally starting to feel a bit of calm wash over her.

After a few minutes, she gently pulled away, her fingers brushing away the tear stains from her cheeks. She gave him a small, grateful smile, though it was laced with exhaustion. Without a word, she reached for their gear, gathering up her bag and his as well.

“Let’s get back to the hotel,” she murmured, her voice still thick with emotion but steadier now.

Jimmy nodded, watching her carefully, making sure she was okay to walk. As they made their way out of the locker room and down the quiet hallway, he stayed close, his hand resting protectively on the small of her back, guiding her gently.

The car ride to the hotel was mostly silent, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Rhea appreciated Jimmy’s presence, the way he didn’t push her to talk or demand answers. He just stayed by her side, a quiet pillar of strength, making her feel safe.

Once they arrived at the hotel, Rhea fumbled with the keycard before finally opening the door. The room was dim, shadows stretching across the floor from the muted streetlights outside. She dropped their bags by the bed, her shoulders sagging with the weight of everything she’d been carrying all day.

Jimmy closed the door behind them and watched her for a moment. She looked small, vulnerable, like the weight of the world was pressing down on her. He hated seeing her like this, and the anger he felt toward Jey for causing her this pain flared again.

“You don’t deserve this, you know?” Jimmy said softly, breaking the silence. “You shouldn’t have to feel guilty for wanting your own happiness.”

Rhea looked up at him, her expression weary but touched by his words. “I just… I never wanted any of this to happen. I wanted to make it work with Jey, to be there for him, but… now everything’s so messed up.”

Jimmy moved closer, gently reaching for her hand. He didn’t say anything, but his touch said everything. It was steady, warm, grounding. His thumb brushed over the back of her hand, a quiet promise that she wasn’t alone in this.

“Rhea, you don’t have to carry this all by yourself,” he murmured. “You’ve got me here. I’ll stay with you, no matter what happens with Jey. You’re not alone.”

Her lips trembled as she looked at him, and for a moment, she felt her walls start to crumble again. She nodded, her hand squeezing his, drawing strength from his presence. Jimmy’s gaze was intense, but it was soft, understanding. There was a depth in his eyes that told her he meant every word.

Without another thought, she leaned into him, letting him wrap his arms around her once more. In his embrace, the weight on her shoulders felt a little lighter, the ache in her heart a little duller. She took a deep, steadying breath, letting herself savor the comfort he offered.

“Thank you, Jon..” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “For everything.”

Jimmy just held her tighter, his arms a cocoon of warmth and safety around her. For that moment, it was enough to just be there, together, sharing the silence and the solace it brought.

—

After Jimmy finished his shower, he stepped out into the dimly lit hotel room, towel slung low on his hips, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. The air was thick with unspoken emotions, the tension between them lingering even now, quiet but palpable.

Rhea lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, the events of the day playing over and over in her mind like a film she couldn’t turn off. Her alarm was already set for the PLE tomorrow, but sleep felt like an impossibility. She couldn’t shake the ache left by her fight with Jey, the emptiness gnawing at her, an endless void she yearned to fill with something real, something comforting.

As she heard Jimmy step out of the bathroom, she sat up, her eyes finding him in the soft light. “Jon?” she called out, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jimmy stopped, his gaze shifting toward her, the sound of his real name falling from her lips catching him off guard. She was reaching out to him, not just his stage persona, and that single word grounded him in a way he hadn’t expected.

“What’s up?” he asked, his voice soft as he crossed the room, towel still wrapped around his waist.

Rhea’s gaze met his, vulnerable and pleading. “Can… can you sleep with me? I just… I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Jimmy’s heart skipped, but he didn’t hesitate. “Of course,” he replied gently.

He slipped into the bed beside her, careful with each movement as he lay down. The space felt warmer, more intimate with him there. Rhea shifted closer, her eyes searching his, and she asked quietly, “Can you hold me?”

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, his hand resting against her back as he cradled her to his chest. Her head nestled against him, and he could feel her breath, slow and deep, her body melting into his.

“Hold me tighter,” she murmured, her voice laced with a mixture of desperation and trust.

Jimmy obliged, pulling her even closer, the warmth of her body pressing against his bare chest, stirring something deep within him. His breath caught as he became acutely aware of the intimacy, his possessiveness surfacing, tugging at him in ways he wasn’t sure he could control.

She was soft against him, vulnerable, and all he wanted to do was protect her, to shield her from anything and everything that could hurt her. His fingers traced small circles along her back, a comforting gesture that somehow made him feel even more connected to her.

“Don’t let me go, please,” she whispered, her voice trembling, the last of her walls crumbling as she clung to him.

Jimmy tightened his hold, his arms firm and steady around her. “I’m not going anywhere, Rhea,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve got you. I promise.”

In that moment, all the complexities, the tangled emotions between them, faded away. There was no past, no future—only the here and now, only the two of them finding solace in each other. Jimmy’s hand slid up, cradling the back of her head as she relaxed against him, her breathing gradually slowing as she found peace in his embrace.

He felt her body relax, her breathing syncing with his, and his heart ached with an intensity he hadn’t expected. It was more than just possessiveness—it was a fierce need to be hers, to be the one she could rely on, even if only for this moment.

The room fell into silence, broken only by the soft rhythm of their breaths. Jimmy’s fingers traced her hair, his thumb brushing against her shoulder as he held her tighter, grounding himself in the warmth of her presence.

And for the first time in a long time, Rhea felt safe. She closed her eyes, drifting into a peaceful sleep, wrapped in the arms of the one person who, tonight, was exactly what she needed.

—

The morning light filtered through the hotel room curtains, casting a soft glow across the bed. Rhea reached over, groggy, and silenced her alarm. As her fingers brushed against her phone, she paused, aware of the warmth next to her—the steady, comforting presence she had shared the night with. She didn’t feel the jolt of shock or panic like she did the first time. Instead, a sense of calm settled over her.

She shifted slightly, and Jimmy’s arms instinctively tightened around her, pulling her closer. His hand rested on her lower back, fingers tracing gentle circles against her skin, soothing and grounding her. The intimacy of the moment felt so natural, yet now, in the light of morning, she couldn’t help but wonder if it had become something… more.

Her gaze drifted down, her hand trailing along the strong, defined lines of Jimmy’s chest, taking in the intricate Samoan tattoos that adorned his skin. The inked patterns seemed to come alive in the soft sunlight, highlighting the strength and heritage he carried with pride. Her fingers traced over them lightly, almost reverently, the quiet admiration stirring a warmth in her chest.

As if sensing her gaze, Jimmy’s eyes slowly opened, meeting hers with a tenderness she hadn’t seen before. His dark eyes held a depth that was both familiar and foreign to her. It was as if she was seeing a different side of him—one that was softer, protective, and filled with something she couldn’t quite name.

Jimmy reached up, his hand gently cupping her face, his thumb brushing softly against her cheek. He studied her, the silence between them filled with unspoken words and lingering tension. “We should get ready,” he murmured, his voice low and rough from sleep, but laced with a warmth that made her heart skip.

Rhea swallowed, her throat suddenly tight, and nodded, unable to trust her voice to respond. She simply looked at him, trying to memorize the way he looked at her, how safe she felt in his arms. She knew they couldn’t linger here forever, wrapped in this fleeting intimacy. But for now, she allowed herself to hold onto the moment, just a little longer.

Slowly, they both pulled themselves from the bed, the quiet spell between them broken but not forgotten. They moved around the room in silence, gathering their things, preparing for the day ahead, the Professionalism they’d mastered over the years slipping back into place. But there was something different now—a quiet understanding, a shared moment that neither of them spoke of but both felt.

As Rhea changed into a hoodie with matching sweats. She gathered her things and stole a glance at Jimmy. He caught her gaze in the mirror, and a faint smile tugged at his lips, a reminder of the comfort they’d shared through the night. In that brief look, she felt a silent promise—a reassurance that whatever came next, he’d be there.

They both knew they’d have to step into their roles as professionals once again, put on the armor that was expected of them in the ring. But beneath that, between them, something had shifted. And while Rhea couldn’t yet name it, she knew it was something she wasn’t ready to let go of.

Jimmy slung his bag over his shoulder and waited for her by the door. As she moved to join him, he gave her a soft, knowing smile. He didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes—he’d be there, no matter what happened with Jey or anyone else. She returned the smile, grateful for his silent support, and together, they left the room, stepping into the world outside, but not leaving their unspoken connection behind.

—

“Hold still,” Jimmy murmured, his eyes focused as he put the final touches on Rhea’s bandana bandeau. His fingers moved deftly, sewing it securely in place, making sure everything was perfect. Rhea looked down, admiring the unique piece he’d crafted just for her. She wore his black button-up shirt, left unbuttoned, draped casually over her shoulders, giving her look an effortless edge. Beneath it, the bandana bandeau, sewed to perfection, sat proudly against her chest, framed by a black harness that added an extra layer of intensity.

Her purple camo-print cargo pants hugged her hips, her black wrestling boots completing the tough, yet distinctively styled outfit. A fishnet long sleeve peeked out from underneath, adding texture to her look, while purple fingerless gloves adorned her hands, tying the ensemble together with an undeniable fierceness.

“There,” Jimmy said, standing back to admire his work with a satisfied grin. He had dressed himself in black wrestling joggers with Rhea’s face sewn across the legs in a collage of fierce expressions, each patch a testament to the connection they shared. His black muscle T-shirt had “Mami” emblazoned in purple lettering over his heart, a tribute that Rhea couldn’t help but find sweet, even if it sent her mind spiraling with complex emotions.

“Looking good,” he said with a wink, before reaching up to gently adjust her hair. He’d styled it himself, three braids running down the right side of her head, the same way he’d first crafted her “Mami” look. Rhea caught her reflection, seeing the purple eyeshadow she had meticulously applied, and the small heart with “Jimmy” scrawled on her cheek, a final personal touch. It was bold, unmistakable—a message to the world that tonight, they were a unit.

As she took one last look, there was a soft knock on the door. An assistant peeked in, announcing, “You have five minutes before your match starts.”

The two shared a glance, the anticipation settling heavy in the air between them. This was the moment they had worked toward, and despite the confidence they exuded, jitters crept in. But it was a good kind of nervousness, a shared excitement that made them feel alive. Rhea took a steadying breath, feeling the warmth of Jimmy’s hand on her back as they walked down the hallway together, making their way to gorilla.

Just before they reached the staging area, Hunter intercepted them, his expression serious but proud. “Alright, listen up,” he began, his voice low but filled with authority. “This is where we call it. The chemistry, the story… it all leads to tonight.” He gave Rhea a pointed look, adding, “You gotta kiss Jimmy tonight, Rhea. Make it memorable.”

The words hit her like a freight train, but she didn’t flinch. Still stinging from her fight with Jey, her emotions felt raw and complicated, but she pushed them down, nodding at Hunter’s instructions. She was a professional; she would do what was asked of her. She gave a quick glance at Jimmy, who met her eyes with a silent understanding. This was as much about their characters as it was about everything left unsaid between them.

Jimmy’s music hit first, the familiar beat pounding through the arena, vibrating through their bones. He took a deep breath, then turned to Rhea one last time, his hand squeezing hers briefly in a silent promise. “We got this,” he murmured, his voice steady, and then he stepped through the curtain to the roar of the crowd.

Rhea watched him walk out, the adrenaline pulsing through her. She straightened up, adjusting her bandana bandeau one last time, feeling the weight of everything on her shoulders—the storyline, the crowd’s expectations, and the tumultuous emotions she’d been wrestling with all week. But as her music began, she pushed it all aside, letting the rhythm of her entrance fill her senses as she strode out onto the stage with a confidence that made the arena come alive.

—

The arena is buzzing with anticipation as the steel cage is lowered around the ring, setting the stage for the first-ever Mixed Gender Tag Team Title match. The atmosphere is electric, with fans on the edge of their seats, eagerly awaiting the historic showdown.

Michael Cole: “Ladies and gentlemen, history will be made tonight as we crown the first-ever Mixed Gender Tag Team Champions! This Tornado Tag steel cage match will see Rhea Ripley and Jimmy Uso face off against the high-flying Dragon Lee and the unpredictable Zelina Vega.”

Pat McAfee: “This match is stacked, Cole! Both teams have fought tooth and nail to make it to the finals, and tonight in Calgary, it all comes down to who can survive the cage!”

Jimmy Uso’s music hits, and he makes his way down the ramp, a look of fierce determination in his eyes. As he reaches the end of the ramp, he pauses, looking back toward the entrance with a knowing grin.

Suddenly, Rhea Ripley’s music blares through the arena, and she steps out, scanning the crowd before locking eyes with Jimmy. With a burst of energy, she takes off, leaping into Jimmy’s arms in her iconic jump, her legs wrapped around his waist as he catches her. The crowd erupts in cheers as the chemistry between them is undeniable.

Michael Cole: “What a sight! Jimmy and Rhea clearly have some serious chemistry going on here.”

Pat McAfee: “You can say that again, Cole. I don’t know if they’re officially a couple, but they sure look like it tonight! I mean, look at them—they’re on fire!”

Jimmy and Rhea exchange a nod, a silent affirmation of their unity, as they step inside the steel cage, ready for war.

The music shifts as Dragon Lee’s high-energy theme song hits. He sprints down the ramp, stopping at the base of the cage, where he’s quickly joined by Zelina Vega. They exchange a fist bump, their fierce determination matching that of their opponents. With one last glance, they enter the cage, the door slamming shut behind them.

Michael Cole: “Dragon Lee and Zelina Vega are no strangers to big matches, and they bring a unique combination of agility and strategy. This is going to be an explosive clash of styles.”

Pat McAfee: “Absolutely, Cole. This isn’t just any steel cage match—it’s a Tornado Tag, so all four competitors are in there at once. No tags, no breaks, just pure chaos!”

As soon as the bell rings, all four competitors explode into action, each determined to outmaneuver the other. Dragon Lee goes after Jimmy, the two men exchanging rapid punches, while Rhea and Zelina lock up, their intensity palpable.

The crowd is on fire as Jimmy whips Dragon Lee into the cage wall, the impact echoing through the arena. Meanwhile, Rhea tosses Zelina into the corner, following up with a brutal knee to the midsection.

Michael Cole: “This match has started with a bang! Jimmy and Rhea are not holding back at all.”

Pat McAfee: “And why would they, Cole? This is for the first-ever Mixed Gender Tag Titles—this is everything!”

Dragon Lee quickly recovers, using his agility to slip out of Jimmy’s grasp and deliver a spinning kick that sends Jimmy staggering. Rhea, seeing her partner in trouble, rushes toward Dragon Lee, but Zelina intercepts her with a well-placed dropkick.

Michael Cole: “Dragon Lee and Zelina are showing exactly why they’ve made it this far—they’re quick and resourceful!”

Pat McAfee: “Yeah, but Jimmy and Rhea have an undeniable power advantage. Let’s see how that plays out as this match gets more intense!”

The action is unrelenting as all four wrestlers continue to brawl. Dragon Lee ascends the ropes and launches himself off with a crossbody onto Jimmy, but Jimmy rolls through, slamming Dragon into the mat. Zelina attempts to capitalize, jumping onto Rhea’s back and locking in a sleeper hold.

Rhea stumbles, clawing at Zelina’s grip, but with a roar, she slams Zelina backward into the steel cage, breaking the hold.

Michael Cole: “Rhea’s power is unmatched! She’s taking control here!”

Pat McAfee: “This is the brutality we expected, and it’s not disappointing, Cole!”

As the chaos rages on, Jimmy and Rhea exchange a quick glance, and with perfect timing, they both line up their opponents for a synchronized superkick.

Michael Cole: “Look at this Pat! Jimmy and Rhea are in perfect sync!”

In unison, they deliver devastating superkicks—Jimmy’s landing squarely on Dragon Lee’s jaw, and Rhea’s hitting Zelina with pinpoint accuracy. Both Dragon Lee and Zelina collapse to the mat, leaving the crowd roaring.

Pat McAfee: “Superkick party in Calgary! These two are unstoppable together!”

Sensing the opportunity, Jimmy ascends to the top rope, positioning himself for his signature splash. With the crowd behind him, he launches off, crashing down onto Dragon Lee with all his weight.

Simultaneously, Rhea lifts Zelina into position for the Riptide. With a powerful slam, she plants Zelina on the mat, sealing her fate.

Michael Cole: “The Riptide! And Jimmy with the Uso splash! They’re pulling out all the stops!”

Pat McAfee: “Cole, they’re going to do it—they’re going to make history!”

With their opponents down, Rhea and Jimmy lock eyes, a spark of victory igniting between them. They begin their climb up the steel cage side by side, inching their way up as the crowd builds in anticipation.

As they reach the top, they glance down at the carnage below, then look at each other, a triumphant grin spreading across their faces. Together, they swing a leg over the cage and drop down to the outside, landing with victory secured.

“Here are your winners, and the first-ever Mixed Gender Tag Team Champions… Jimmy Uso and Rhea Ripley!”

The crowd explodes as Jimmy and Rhea are handed their titles. Their faces shine with triumph as they raise the belts high.

Michael Cole: “History has been made tonight in Calgary! Jimmy and Rhea have won the first-ever Mixed Gender Tag Team Titles!”

Pat McAfee: “But wait, Cole—look at this!”

As the camera zooms in, Jimmy steps closer to Rhea, his hand reaching up to cup her face. In a moment that shocks the entire arena, he leans in and kisses her, the intensity of the moment capturing everyone’s attention.

Michael Cole: “Whoa! Jimmy Uso just kissed Rhea Ripley! This is… this is huge!”

Pat McAfee: “Are you seeing this, Cole? Jey Uso’s girlfriend, making out with his own twin brother?! This is absolute deception! I don’t know what’s going to happen when Jey sees this!”

The camera captures every second, zooming in as the crowd reacts, stunned by the unexpected turn of events. Jimmy pulls back, gazing into Rhea’s eyes with a smirk, while Rhea, flushed, gives him a soft smile.

The two stand together, arms raised, titles held high as the crowd cheers—and speculates about what this means for the future. They’ve not only made history but left the WWE Universe buzzing, their relationship now more complicated—and public—than ever.

Michael Cole: “This is a moment no one will ever forget! Jimmy and Rhea have made history tonight, but they’ve also created a whole new chapter of drama for the two..”

Pat McAfee: “This is the kind of thing that will shake the entire WWE to its core. What a night, Cole!”

—

Rhea sat in her locker room, hands still trembling as she adjusted the black jacket hanging loosely around her shoulders. The energy of the night still pulsed through her, but it felt distant, muted. Winning the Mixed Gender Tag Titles, kissing Jimmy in front of everyone—it was supposed to feel triumphant. But as she stared at her phone, everything else faded away.

Her screen glowed with a single text from Jey.

Good job.

That was all he said. No elaboration, no warmth. Just two words that felt as heavy as a boulder pressing down on her chest. She re-read it over and over, her stomach churning with a mix of guilt, confusion, and anger. Good job? Was that all he had to say?

Rhea’s fingers hovered over the screen as she dialed his number, desperate to hear his voice, to explain, to somehow make him understand that this was all just part of the job. But the phone rang, each ring a painful reminder that he wasn’t answering. By the time it clicked over to voicemail, her heart felt like it had been crushed into pieces.

She hung up, blinking back tears as the weight of her choices settled heavily on her shoulders. The line between reality and storyline had blurred beyond recognition, and now she was left in this painful in-between, where nothing felt certain anymore. Everything felt real to Jey, she thought. The kiss, the match, the betrayal—it all meant more to him than she’d anticipated. She didn’t know how to bridge that gap, or if she even could.

A soft knock at the door pulled her out of her thoughts. She quickly wiped at her eyes, trying to compose herself. Before she could call out, the door opened, and Jimmy stepped in, his expression softening the moment he saw her face.

“Everything alright, Rhea?” he asked gently, his voice laced with concern.

Rhea forced a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She tried to brush it off, but Jimmy knew her well enough to see through the facade. He took a few steps closer, his gaze dropping to her phone still clutched tightly in her hand.

“He texted me,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “All he said was ‘good job,’ and he won’t pick up my calls.”

Jimmy’s face hardened, a hint of possessiveness flashing in his eyes. He hated seeing her like this, vulnerable and hurt. The pain Jey was causing her only fueled his own resolve to be there for her, to show her that he could be more than Jey ever was.

“He’s acting like a kid, Rhea,” he said, his tone firm. “You made the right choice—you made the strong choice. If he can’t see that, then that’s on him.” He stepped closer, his hand gently cupping her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “You have something real now, something that’s building you up. He wasn’t doing that for you. I am.”

Rhea closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, letting his words wrap around her like a shield. A part of her still ached for Jey, but Jimmy’s steady presence reminded her that she had someone who believed in her, who was willing to fight beside her, even if the lines were messy and complicated.

“It’s just…” she struggled to find the words, her voice breaking slightly. “It feels like I’m losing him for good, Jimmy. Like I’m closing a door I can’t open again.”

Jimmy’s hand tightened slightly on her face, his jaw setting as he looked at her with a fierce determination. “Maybe that’s what you need, Rhea..” he replied, his voice unwavering. “Sometimes, you have to let go to move forward. He’s stuck in the past, and you? You’re out here making history. You’re with someone who sees you, really sees you. And if Jey can’t handle that… then he’s not worth this pain.”

She opened her eyes, searching his gaze, feeling a strange mixture of sadness and hope. His words stung, but they also resonated deeply within her. For so long, she’d been trying to balance what she wanted with what others expected from her but now.. she didn’t know anymore.

[asvterias]

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟥: 𝖶𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖲𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗌

the cast // series masterlist

chap. 1 || chap. 2 || chap. 3 || chap. 4 || chap. 5

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Canon-Divergence, Targ!Cest, Typical Misogyny, Hardcore Sad Daddy Issues, Typical-Period Homophobia, Neverending Doubts and Insecurities, Brief Mention of Death, Mentions of Paternal Bastardy, & Brief Mention of a Slap

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Three Main Handmaidens ✘ Fem!Velaryon!Reader, Father!Corlys Velaryon ✘ Daughter!Reader, Teen!Alicent Hightower ✘ Fem!Velaryon!Reader, Teen!Rhaenyra Targaryen ✘ Fem!Velaryon!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Following into the same night, Y/N prepares with her three close handmaidens, happily discussing the surprise gifts. Turns out, Y/N is in for a rude awakening from her father, Corlys Velaryon, or rather a soft consolation from her two dearest friends.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.2k+

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @username23345 @fae-the-wanderer @hippivanhan34 @harjasblog @feyresqueen @ithemaduh @poopietomuch @starless-nightz @yelenaslyubov @chittakii @flowerluzx @laiahernandeeezzz @dvrkhcld @lizzieswife101

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Please don’t be a silent reader and interact within the chapter! If you wanna be tagged in this book, comment below and say ‘future tag’! Also go check out my tiktok page @/localgirlie, where I post videos relating to this fanfic!

🌊 ✘ 🔥

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟥

𝖲𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖮𝗇𝖾: 𝖤𝗉𝗂𝗌𝗈𝖽𝖾 𝖮𝗇𝖾

𝟏𝟏𝟏 𝐀𝐂

𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨’𝘴 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨

••••

As the night draws closer, you are in your bedchambers alongside your three handmaidens, preparing for another calm night. Nights at the Red Keep are mostly quiet, with guards posted at their assigned areas and maids finishing up their nightly duties.

Humming along to a melody in your head as the handmaidens bathed you in silence, preferring the cool of night. Once you were done taking a warm bath and the tub was drained, the handmaidens hurriedly shuffled around the bed chambers as you dried off.

Alarra picked out your nightgown, a simple beige chemise before donning the soft material on the Velaryon girl in the full-body mirror.

Your three closest handmaidens have tended to you since you were zero and one. Their names are Elissa, Melara, and Alarra, their different personalities and descriptions made them special. At least to you, they were special.

Elissa is a bit chubby, exactly the same height as you, with more curves on her body and inherited caramel skin with ebony black curly hair.

Melara is a tall and slender woman, maintaining her average build, blessed with beautiful dark-skinned and luscious dark brown straight hair.

Alarra is a few inches taller than you, possessing a slim physique, porcelain skin, and dirty blonde hair.

They are five years older than you, teaching you kind mannerisms to everyone, no matter their status. Other than your mother and younger siblings, they expressed happiness when you told them the exciting news of finally becoming a dragonrider. While they were happy for you, they maintained a distance of staying inside to never accidentally see you with Silverwing. In case you might get the wrong impression ask for the company alongside Dragonback.

Elissa always makes sure your daily and dragonrider’s outfits are ready and trimmed appropriately with your family colors.

Melara admires braiding your hair, sometimes giving recommendations, always complimenting your hair texture, and claiming the uniqueness of the silver hair.

Alarra prepares your bath and bed, everything regarding your bedchambers.

“Milady, you look absolutely marvelous in this beige nightgown.”

“Every color compliments your skin, milady.” Melara dips her head slightly, acknowledging your beauty.

“Surely I’ve been blessed with the most gracious handmaidens.”

“Milady, do you think they will like it? You spent an awful amount of time on it.” Elissa asks, referring to your surprise gift for your two closest friends.

“I certainly hope so because I would hate to return it.”

“Don’t worry, milady, the Princess, and the Lady Alicent would surely love your thoughtfulness, who wouldn’t?” Alarra reassures with a small smile, gently squeezing your arms, and staring at you through the mirror.

You spun around, the faint touch of Alarra quickly disappearing, now facing the three handmaidens.

“Your services are all too kind.”

“There’s not many ladies who would express such gratitude to handmaidens so regularly,” Melara gently speaks, her voice soothingly sweet. It was no wonder how the three Velaryon siblings requested her to read bedtime stories or sing lullabies.

“Well, I hope that the three of you never plan to resign anytime soon.”

Soon after, voices of disagreement erupted and the atmosphere remained lighthearted.

“Of course not, milady.”

“And wherever shall we go?”

“Nowhere, I should presume.” You shook your head, biting back a grin.

“Shall I prepare your bed?”

“No it’s fine, that’ll be all for tonight..”

“We all bid you goodnight, milady.” They respectively bowed and left the room in a single file line, closing the door behind them. Once they left, your gaze fixated on the closed door, seemingly waiting for the arrival of your bestfriends.

Sauntering towards your vanity dresser, you sat down, grabbing the comb before using it against your hair. The hairstrokes were well-timed as you mindlessly continued, the frequent action becoming numb.

There was a knock on your door, startling you slightly from your hair brushing by the firmness. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, placing the comb on the dresser and stood up. You moved forward to the door, your brain rummaging through the many possibilities of the other person.

Whoever was knocking on your door wasn’t Rhaenyra nor Alicent, surely not, especially used with such firmness. Your friends’ knocks were timid and timed, even so brazenly if Rhaneyra was feeling humorous.

You unlocked and opened the door, wondering who the mysterious knocker was. To your surprise, it was your father Corlys, standing tall and imposing, a stoic expression smeared across his face. In all honesty, you wished anybody else was at your door, requesting their presence to be seen.

“Father?” A raised eyebrow was quickly followed by a head tilt. “What are you doing here this time of night?”

“I came to talk to you, daughter.” He replied, his tone cold and unwelcoming. Your father stepped inside, pushing past you, skeptically observing your bed chambers.

“This is a really bad time, Ali and Nyra are so–“ You turned to him, confused by his sudden appearance as a hand lingered on the door.

“Close the door, we have some more important matters to discuss than your little friendships.”

Despite your promise to your two best friends, you complied with your father’s demand, obliged by his authority. You closed the door softly, intentionally keeping it unlocked, hoping for an interruption because conversations with your father usually transpire into something greater and hurtful. You knew how much he preferred to keep up appearances even in such unfortunate circumstances, such as this time.

“What you displayed at the council meeting was deemed inappropriate. Not only have you shamed yourself, but you have embarrassed our entire family.”

“For coming late?”

“Yes, exactly.” He deadpanned.

“What’s the problem?”

“Daughter, you must be truly blind if you’re unable to decipher this simple transgression.”

“How am I arriving late to the King’s council a problem?”

“Just know that it is.”

“You don’t even have any liable reason as to why my tardiness was a problem today!” You protested, shaking your head. His ignorance was truly staggering at times, especially when being so annoyingly persistent.

“Father, it was a harmless thing! The King wasn’t angry about it, he just gave us a warning. I don’t understand, Rhaenyra did the same–“

“That’s because Rhaenyra is the Princess, she’s obliged to roam about and defy whoever she comes across! You are not entitled to the same fate!” He harshly interrupted, forehead creased in annoyance.

“I’m in the same standing as Princess Rhaenyra, we’re both from noble houses!” You argued, refusing to succumb to any overwhelming emotions.

Now, the cause of this once calm conversation transpired into a hurtful argument, as it always does.

“Should you forget your status, she is a Princess and you are a lady. I should have done this a long time ago.” He shakes his head, sending a condescending glare.

Resisting the urge to scoff in his face and roll your eyes, continually defying his orders would be worthwhile for his bewildered reaction. Right now, it wasn’t in the best interests to further infuriate your father, so you sufficed with a blank stare and an annoyed exhale.

“Father, please don’t d–“

“It is final! You will not indulge yourself further into these…renevduzos with the Princess. You will cut off any remaining connection with her and move back to Driftmark, effective immediately. You’ve allowed your mind to be poisoned for far too long and what good of a wife you’ll make, if you are…seemingly unwell.”

“She’s been one of my bestfriends since we were babes in the cradle. How could you tell me to stop interacting with her?”

Quite frankly, it was ridiculous for your father to even suggest such a thing.

“For your sake, she better remain a friend. With all this gossip around the castle, spreading viciously, looking for a weak spot to puncture.” He spat, the blazing fury in his eyes never wavering or his tensed posture. “You will reside back with your siblings and mother after the Heirs Tournament.”

“And if I refuse to move?”

“You have no choice in the matter, my word is final and you will comply with it. “Do you understand, dear daughter?”

At that, you remained silent, the words lost in your throat and the tears threatening to escape. The pressure of trying to please your father, barricades through your actions, particularly involving the Princess. Everything about your father was beyond difficult. You fought hard for his approval yet he never acknowledged it.

“I said, do you understand?”

Silence was loud, but the compliance eventually stood out. You never felt so weakened by such mere words from your father.

A single gnaw on your lips, settling down the inner turmoil occurring in your mind. “…I do, father.” Your harsh tone simmered down, refusing to further agitate him. Yet, the venom was still there, only slightly less and he knew it. You know he did.

“As it should be. Your mother and I are very disappointed in you, for having allowed yourself to reach beyond a certain extent of closeness with the Princess.” He explains, an undeniable hatred and disgust from the simple implication of your nature being unnatural. “The nature of your friendship is deemed wrongful on all accords. If someone proves the extent of your relationship to be true, you could be exiled from the Seven Kingdoms altogether.”

“And you would not help me to your greatest strength?” Tears welled in your ears, fighting the urge to wipe them away. You refused to go through with that, he couldn’t deem you as weak as he claims you are. You just wanted to prove him wrong, but he’ll never give you that satisfaction.

Why was it so hard to build a good relationship with your father? Why did he make it this difficult to open up, and give love and support?

All the qualities he needed to be a good father were surpassed by you and directly expressed those attributes to Laena. On good days, he expressed those traits to Laenor as well.

But never you. Why never you?

Wasn’t it clear to tell? You craved that father’s love, which he disregarded entirely, assuming tough love was your criteria.

He could have never been so wrong.

Much like your mother, Rhaenys, but even then she only expressed gentle love, expressing her love equally between her three children. Nothing less than gentle love.

Everyday she never fails, striving to be a good mother with imperfections. Motherhood is a beautiful gift. Princess Rhaenys never made you forget that, wishing the best for her children.

If one parent can put in the effort, why can’t the other follow through as well?

Why was it so hard for your father to love you? Why was it so hard for you to not love your father after how he treated you in comparison to your younger siblings?

Everything was overwhelming your mind, and it felt dangerous to clamor down and struggle by yourself.

Your insecure thoughts. Hysterically cry for his love and comfort. Remain the same and endure this bitter treatment repeatedly.

“What happens in the near future would be your own decisions. Don’t expect me to be a good father when you refuse to be a dutiful daughter.”

“Oh, because you’re such a good father. The same way you fathered those two bastards’ boys back in Spicetown. The ones you abandoned and ignored their entire life. I do wonder, father, who’s truly your firstborn, me or Alyn?” You spat harshly, even so wincing at your tone. His reaction was worth it, witnessing his so-perfect life crumble in a matter of minutes. A secret which he truly put the effort in, self-sabotaging never misses.

He should have known your curiosity would lead to a bitter realization. According to him, you’ll do anything to spite him, even if it means breaking the Velaryon name.

“Stop speaking foolishly, where did you hear such slanders?”

“Deny all you want, father, but I know of them. I met them and their mother.”

“Listen to me carefully, Y/N–“

“What?! You’re not going to accept your infidelity.”

“Control your mouth. Now listen to me carefully, you will not tell your mother of my indiscretions, they’re in the past and will remain that way.”

“But they’re not, you have bastard sons, who you can only ignore for so long. Soon enough, mother will be aware, whether it’s by my tongue or yours. You will not play my mother like a common fool.”

“This entire conversation will not be repeated to your mother. You will not ruin our family with such poisonous lies.”

“I have ruined this family? It is you who did this!”

“You speak utter nonsense.” He grunted, consumed by denial.

“Regardless of that, you should be a great father. I’m your firstborn daughter, please stop treating me like I’m a screwup, and that nothing I ever accomplish will truly please you. That I can never be a decent daughter, I just want you to love me and care for me, how hard is that to ask?”

“Don’t be foolish, dear daughter.”

“Do you know how your coldness makes me feel? It makes me feel unwanted like you never wished for me. How my mind wonders if Laena was the eldest and I, the youngest, would I be showered in love and affection that you so proudly display for her! Laena may be your youngest child, but I’m your daughter too, I deserve my father’s attention and love just as much as Laena receives.”

“Spare the theatrics, Y/N. I never cared for it so I won’t do it now.”

“Maybe I’m obliged to throw theatrics if it gets your attention!”

“At times, I feel like I don’t know you at all.”

Your tone immediately became defensive, the hidden fury coming to light, “That’s because you don’t. You’ve never taken the time to get to know me.” Your eyes narrowed, frustration and anger easily consuming your emotions. Closing your eyes, attempting to control the uprising fury that seethed within you, yet coming to no avail. You were a loose cannon and your father held the matches, knowing exactly when to set you off.

No matter what, you can’t downplay your feelings, especially when your father disregards it as such.

Your father was in your life, but not how you wished it. He was there, but he wasn’t. Over time, you acknowledged the fact that he was rather a male figure than an actual father.

“How dare you imply as such? I’m your father, I know everything about you.” He retorts, a scoff passing his lips.

“No, you don’t. You never did.”

“Ask me a question, any question about you.”

“Fine, how old was I when I claimed Silverwing?”

“Do you take me for a fool, you don’t own a dragon.”

“Wrong! That’s Laena, she doesn’t have a bond with a dragon yet.”

“It’s an honest mistake, you and Laena are much alike, in more ways than one can think.” He claimed, seeking reasoning with his excuse. It was a pathetic attempt to answer with such confidence with the wrong intentions.

“I was 8 when I first bonded with Silverwing, me and Rhaenyra flew out to Dragonstone, hoping I’d get my dragon. In short, I almost died for stupidly going with an over-enthusiastic mindset and a torch shining my way through the dark depths of the unknown dragonpit. Silverwing had saved me from Vermithor’s wrath and if anything she claimed me as her rider.”

“You can’t expect me to remember every detail of your life. I have more important things to concern myself with.”

“More important things than knowing your firstborn daughter?”

Your father is a man of many obligations, putting duty over love in almost every circumstance. Was not loving you such a hard obligation that he had ignored?

“Precisely, your whole life is a duty itself. It’s time I begin seeking honorable suitors worthy even for your hand.”

“It’s my life, surely I must have some jurisdiction over my future betrothal. You just wish to marry me off for your benefit–“

“Mind your tongue, dear daughter. I do what I think is best for you, your own needs are insignificant during the marriage mart.”

“The next time you go to war, I’ll pray to the Gods that you perish there, so you won’t return to our family. Maybe then, the rest of us would be even happier–“

His right hand rose, too caught up in the moment before striking down at the young Velaryon girl. A sharp slap met your cheek, cutting off your statement, earning a surprised small gasp instead as you stumbled back. You quickly glanced at the older man, witnessing his disgruntled reaction, mouth agape in quick regret and widened eyes.

He stared down at you menacingly, breathing steadily as his hand dropped back to his side, clenching into a fist, causing him to cast his gaze aside.

He couldn’t look at you. Not anymore. Not after he struck down his own child. If Rhaenys caught wind of this altercation between her husband and eldest daughter…only the Gods above would know of Corlys’ fate.

Embarrassingly enough, he kept the tense silence flowing in the air. Your face is etched into a dark mixture of fear, disbelief, and anger, reaching up shaky fingers to your injured cheek as tears brim your eyes.

“Just because we’re behind closed doors doesn’t give you the right to disrespect me or our family. I have seen that your time here at the Red Keep has only worsened your tongue. You are my daughter and will act as such, and I demand your respect.”

During his lecture, your gaze drifted toward him as numerous thoughts immersed your mind.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” He commanded any remorse or guilt that lingered in his eyes, quickly vanishing within his declaration.

Your jaw clenched in anger, the sting of the slap still lingering as you cradled your bruised cheek. Swallowing down the tears quickly, you craned your head towards your father with narrowed eyes meeting his furious own.

“Do you truly think Princess Rhaenyra would offer you a fairytale? She has duties to attend to, bigger than your entire existence. Sooner or late, she will grow out of this dalliance and you’ll be nothing but a mere memory to her.”

••••

Before you could reply, the familiar glimpses of auburn and silver hair led the conversation astray, courtesy of your father wanting to keep up with appearances. To him, it didn’t matter if he called you a big disappointment, only preferring the conversation being behind closed doors.

“Princess. My Lady.” Your father’s voice changed into a firm chuckle, dipping his head lightly before the two young ladies. He turned around, facing the young Lady and Princess, greeting with a small nod.

“Don’t let me delay your night even further,” A tight-lipped smile stretches on his face before glancing over his shoulder at his eldest daughter, a stoic gaze wavered in the slightest. “We will talk later, dear daughter. Sleep well and don’t act irrational,”

He already did ruin your night…well at least for you. Be it as may, your father knew exactly what harsh words to seep into your brain, sending your thoughts into overdrive.

Eventually, your family loyalty will overpower your love for Rhaenyra and distance yourself from her. Just like he had planned from the moment those unconfirmed rumors of your unnatural relationship with Rhaenyra reached his ears. If he’d been more sympathetic about his approach toward the conflict, perhaps this father-daughter conversation would have been lighter on the head. For once, you didn’t have to fight to reason with him or to plead for his consideration.

Was it true? Possibly yes. Will you allow his quick judgment to ruin your mood? Certainly not.

A simple wobble of your lip and unsteadiness in your posture almost cracked you. “Of course, father.” You gulped, using false pleasantries to assure.

The small smile was an added gesture of tying the perfect dismissal of your father’s overbearing words.

“Good.”

Much to your dismay, the thought of lingering around in the solitude of your bedchambers was quickly forgotten. Your beloved friends wandered inside, sending your father a respective head nod as he left, shutting the door behind him.

You turned away, wiping away your tears and leaving the faint remnants on your chemise. Unable to contain a few sniffles that escaped past your lips as more tears appeared in your eyes, blurring your vision and the right mindset to handle the soon persistent questions from your friends. Quickly, a hand shot up to your mouth, concealing the harsh sobs and mouth tremors.

“Is something the matter?” Alicent’s voice filled with genuine concern.

The Velaryon girl hesitated, her mind struggling to find the right words and her heart heavy with exhaustion. “No, I’m fine.” You sniffled, hoping neither of the girls would notice your abnormal response.

“Are you sure?”

Releasing a tired exhale, lifting your head toward the ceiling, observing the architecture, deciding to stay silent, hoping the hint carries on.

“You’re certainly not fine, what’s going on with you?” Rhaenyra insists, her footsteps padding gently across the floor moving closer to you.

So, no, they ignored the hint and continued. Well, more like Rhaenyra did and Alicent played the quiet bystander, mostly.

“I said it’s nothing, Rhae. Why must you be so persistent?”

Still, you made no movement to convince them, remaining silent.

“Because I care deeply for you,” She replies, her tone calm and collected.

Alicent’s head tilted slightly, sharing a glance toward Rhaenyra, going completely undetected by you.

“How can we comfort you if we remain unaware?” She pressed again, tone filled with a firm dedication to knowing the truth.

“…Did…your father speak harsh words to you?” She stepped toward you, cautiously reaching out a hand to place on your shoulder. Her touch made you shiver, softly gasping at the warm sensation, slowly meeting her gaze. “Right before we arrive in your chambers and don’t lie to me Y/N.”

At Rhaenyra’s statement, you shrugged off her comforting hand and sauntered closer to the bed. Sitting down on the mattress, releasing a soft sigh, covering your face with your hands, attempting to hide new unshed tears.

“Rhaenyra, please obey Y/N’s wishes.” Alicent defended, moving closer to you. “She can tell us at her own leisure.”

You sighed, shortly contemplating your options, dropping your hands into your lap. A slight wobble of your lips urged incoming tears to stream freely down your face. It was no use lying anyway.

Turning around to face the two other girls, you nodded weakly, your voice tightening upon seeing the sympathetic looks from them.

“Please stop looking at me all pitiful.”

Rhaenyra was quick with it. “What did he say?” She asked, the intensity in her voice growing with each step.

Not good enough. Not good enough. Not good enough. You’ll never be good enough for her. You’ll never be good enough for your future husband. No matter how hard you try, her priorities will always remain first. Perhaps, your father was right, his harsh words holding a bit of semblance and truth to it.

What were you thinking? Living in your own fantasies, romantically involved with Princess Rhaenyra without any repercussions. Having to pursue a secret relationship behind closed doors and the shadows of the night?

It can only occur in dreams, so maybe it should stay in an imagination concept, fueling off of an unrequited desire that can never be rightfully fulfilled by her. The one girl you ever want and will always want. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, the fiery spirit, who can never know of your true feelings toward her. There was too much at stake if those feelings went rogue, so it’s better to kill it and move on.

The longer you stayed silent, the longer the curiosity struck Alicent and Rhaenyra to figure out the full-blown argument between your father.

“What utter nonsense did he say to you?” Rhaenyra repeated, settling down beside you.

“Regardless of what Lord Corlys said, you should know it’s not true. You’re better than his depiction.” Alicent continued, trying a more gentle approach.

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Okay, we will respect your wishes.” Alicent agreed to your statement, glancing at Rhaenyra. The Targaryen Princess stared at you, eyes filled with indignation and slight anger at your father’s words. Whatever he had spoken to you, it clearly affected you deeply. Even more so, his words made you keep silent, not even entrusting your two dearest friends with it.

“Won’t we, Rhaenyra?” The auburn girl cleared her throat before sending the silver-haired Princess a pointed stare, nudging at her side. Rhaenyra blinked once, paying no mind to Alicent’s assertive motion but surprisingly felt her heart constrict gently, observing how you anxiously fiddled with your fingers.

As if you regret saying anything in the first place. She refused to turn a blind eye to your silent suffering. She knows you’ll always do the same for her. Those many late nights you snuck into her bedchambers proved your loyalty to her.

A chance to comfort you, no matter how long it may take. She knew you were hurting inside and emotions tend to erupt at the most vulnerable moments. If she’s unable to console you now, it won’t be the last time to brush over this sensitive issue.

Holding your breath, gaze landing on her, observing every movement she portrayed. Her measured breathing, composed posture, and eyes glossed with trepidation.

She hated seeing you upset, much more crying, and not interfering on your behalf. But if you wished not to share your argument with your father, she couldn’t force an explanation.

Rhaenyra’s expression instantly grows earnest at the sound of your plea. She hated witnessing this, feeling like you were pushing away from her. “Yes, we will.” She finally speaks, a mixture of protectiveness and vulnerability, her jaw clenching at the sad mere sight of your tears.

Your shaky breath drew out into a relieved sigh, nodding your head uneasily.

“Good, thank you,” You came closer, grasping out onto their hands, squeezing their hands gently.

“Do you ever wish for us to bring up this topic again?” Rhaenyra mumbled, rubbing her thumb over your knuckles.

“No, I don’t.”

“Then, so be it.”

A broken smile crept upon your lips, mirroring Rhaenyra’s small smile.

“Now where are the gifts we were promised?”

“Rhaenyra!” Alicent exclaimed, bewildered by the Princess’s quick change of demeanor.

“What?” She keenly asked, shrugging it off.

“You’re an impatient dragon, Nyra.” You huffed, the once tense atmosphere replaced by a wholesome one.

“Can you blame me for my bluntness, I was promised a gift so I’m not leaving without one.”

Spinning around, instinctively releasing your hands as you sauntered toward your vanity. The Velaryon girl rummaged through her drawer, using a specific key to unlock the bottom drawer.

“When I was with my siblings in Driftmark about a year ago. I had met these two brothers, no older than me and holding a sparking resemblance to my father, and paid them to make these. The younger brother, Addam, was so sweet and easily trusting…his older brother Alyn, not so much. Anyways, they spent their days fishing for gold in the sea while their mother was a shipwright, Ms. Miranda. She wasn’t married–“

“All unnecessary information, tell us what you got.” Rhaneyra interrupted firmly, scoffing slightly.

You apologized for hopelessly rambling on, seeking out the two hidden jewelry boxes.

“I gave them two bags of gold in compensation to create matching bracelets for us. I asked them to show me how to make the bracelets since it was our friendship anniversary, it’d be a great gift.”

You handed both girls a small box, squealing in excitement when they opened their respective boxes. Inside each box was a box chained gold bracelet, carved beautifully with several ornaments.

“Each one has all of our first names initially designed with a few assortments of seashells by me.”

Each engraved heart initial shone underneath the moonlight, written in cursive, a beautiful piece of penmanship. The three bracelets had three first initials, caterogizing ‘A’, for Alicent, ‘Your First Name Initial’ and ‘R’ for Rhaenyra.

Their silences gave you the wrong impression, feeling a frown overtake your lips.

“Do you guys not like it?”

The Hightower girl was the first to reply, “I love it!” She bashfully smiles, attaching the jewelry around her wrist in adoration and dangling the mini additional trinkets. “The little seashells are so adorable.”

“Originally I had planned for it to have our mother’s house sigil…but I didn’t want to go overboard.”

“Either way, I love it.” The auburn girl nodded in confirmation again, easing your doubts.

“What about you Rhaenyra?” Your attention is focused on your other friend. Holding your hands together in anticipation, a giddy expression plastered on your face, waiting for her opinion. However the more she stayed silent, mindlessly observing the gold-plated bracelet, your hope was quickly replaced by desperation, then slowly followed by dread. The giddy expression disappeared slowly but surely, disregarding your held breath.

You had really hoped she had adored it, just like Alicent did. But it seems it won’t be the same with Rhaenyra. After all, the Princess was harder to please, making your chosen gifts to be more meaningful toward her. The Princess hates insensitive gifts, another reason why kind consideration when picking her gifts is crucial.

Keeping your eyes on the bracelet in the tiny box, “…Do you not like it, Nyra?” Your voice trailed off, not even hiding the disappointment in your tone.

Your heart thumped loudly in your chest, an embarrassment to wonder if your friends had overhead the anxious heartrate.

Her neutral expression sent no ounce of ease, only alleviating your anxiety. You hated this. You hated not knowing her current thoughts on the gift.

“It’s something different than what I’m used to,” She started, sparing glances between you and the bracelet still in the tiny box.

“…Is that all?” You trailed off, hesitantly to even continue speaking.

“Therefore, I love it even more because of your dedication and effort.”

“So, you love it?”

“I could never lie to you.” She claims, a small smirk creeping up on her lips.

“Never?”

“I swear it on the Gods.”

“You’re playing with fire.”

“Is that not what us Targaryens are known for?” She rhetorically asked, tilting her head.

“That doesn’t mean we should take their kindness for granted.”

“I suppose so.”

Alicent strolled toward your bed, not disrupting the organized pillows and new bedsheets while Rhaenyra settled on your vanity chair, staring at the round mirror. She observed the several paintings adorning the dresser, smiling at the sight of your alluring presence in each one.

“Perhaps we should wear our bracelets for tomorrow, it’s perfect timing.” The Hightower girl chimed in.

“I agree.” Rhaenyra nods her head, giving a last glance at the jewelry.

“Good, that way we can all have a piece of each other, no matter our distance.” You hummed, intrigued by the glistening moon peering down outside your window.

“Where ever shall we go, Y/N?” Alicent overlooks Rhaenyra’s reaction to your sudden interest in the moon.

The Princess slowly gulped away any admiration, a rosy blush burned across her face as the cold realization settled in. She glimpsed downward at the floor, attempting to admire the architecture but miserably failed. With an flustered yet hidden expression, tightly clenched hands before relaxing them at her sides and collecting her sense of mind.

“I don’t know..” You shrug, focusing your attention back to your friends. “When me and Alicent get married, we might move to our husbands’ homeland.”

“This night was meant to be fun and men-free and to avoid upcoming nuptials, everything regarding adult life. Why bring it up now?” Rhaenyra scoffs at the harsh reminder of life, awaiting them as highborn ladies.

“We all know it’s gonna happen soon, why ignore it?”

“Because that way I can spend more time with you two.”

“Eventually, we’re all going to be married and have kids of our own.”

“Maybe I wish to escape this world; where duty values moreover love. I want to marry someone who my heart desires, not to strengthen a bond between houses.” Rhaenyra explained, her lips tugged into a frown and with a tone of heavy heart, “Obviously, my title as the Princess will remain, I will never give up my royal status for anyone.”

“You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

“Yes, I can, I’m a Princess and I can willfully share it with you and Alicent.” She mused, a hint of wonder in her voice, beaming at the simple possibility.

“You’re impossible at times,”

“How else would I be certain I have your attention?”

“You always do, even without trying.”

“I’m quite remarkable, aren’t I?”

“The most remarkable Targaryen Princess indeed.” You replied, enjoying the little banter.

She stepped closer, now at arm’s length. “As you are the most enticing Velaryon lady.” She tilted her head, gently biting down on her lip.

Alicent cleared her throat, interrupting the small moment between her friends.

“Can we please forget about men and marriages for one night? This is all about us three.”

“You’re right, I apologize for dampening the mood of discussing men and marriages.”

“Good, all is forgiven.” A warm smile slyly appears on her face, now recognizing the little gap between the two. Her gaze slowly rises, focusing on your reaction to the close proximity.

You hummed, clutching at your own wrists behind your back, blissfully unaware of her forthcoming statement.

“Although there is another way to properly confirm your apology if you wish it. It’d be beneficial to both our strengths and possible unknown interests.” Her combined sultry tone and cocky smirk made the butterflies swarm in your stomach. All of your words got stuck at the back of your throat, silencing your speech.

The heat rushed to your cheeks, very grateful that blushes weren’t visible on your melanin skin, but rather by your frantic and flustered actions.

You took a few steps backward, distancing yourself from the Princess’s grasp much to her dismay. In all honesty, Rhaenyra didn’t expect your unusual cold shoulder, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, and a defeated expression on her face. Surprisingly, she made no protests to your subtle rejection and brushed it aside.

Just when it was getting entertaining and thrilling, there was an obstacle. Even if your sudden movement, is aimed with the best of intentions because the Princess lacked restraint regarding you. If you had come any closer, she’d render you speechless, stealing your first kiss, finally gaining the glorious moment of tasting your lips.

Seemingly, you missed Rhaenyra’s temptation of reaching out to lure you back in, retracting her hands tentatively, contemplating between her mind and body.

She fought against the urge, withstanding even the strongest temptations, which was you, your presence…oh your perfect soft lips. Oh, how she dreamt of many nights such as this to feel your lips upon hers and wonder how your lips taste.

Dreaming of adoring and kissing your beautiful brown skin, glistening underneath the bright moon or scorching sun, peeking through her window in the comfort of her chambers. No one would disturb her quiet alone company with you, she’d made sure of it. If they did, someone would be relieved of their duties, she wouldn’t risk it.

Not herself or her status. Definitely not you.

Yet, she didn’t mind the idea of having you all to herself, no husband to be jealous over and no nuisance kids to be bothered with.

She’d wake up, kissing and tracing your beautiful brown skin tone, speaking fondly of her admiration of the familiarity. As it would on a bestowed night with her last reminder, hypnotizing her into a peaceful slumber.

You were beautiful, your skin tone was stunning and your lips were addictive.

How could she possibly resist your magnetic charm, especially if your greatest quality was loyalty? The most powerful trait that you flawlessly flaunt about everyday, how could she not love you?

Everything about you was too alluring, she’d be stupid to think otherwise, your power over her held strongly, whether your awareness lacked or not.

Your head hung low, expressing a sheepish manner. A small muttering left your lips, finally meeting their understanding gazes. “It is not entirely your fault, I was just fearful of the future and the lingering effects of our friendship.”

“Let us hope the Gods are in our favor for such a lifelong friendship.” Alicent remains ever so optimistic, despite the unfair circumstances placed on highborn women.

“When are the Gods truly so kind?” Rhaenyra recalls with an eye roll. Her attitude was not directed at Alicent, but rather at the Gods.

“We must promise to remain together, no matter what.” You suggested.

“No matter who we marry.” The auburn girl states quietly but assertively.

“Or how far a distance we are,” Rhaenyra adds on.

The trio of girls nodded in agreement, interlocking their pinkies together, whispering a silent plea to the Gods above.

••••

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© asvterias, 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works onto any other platforms without my permission.

[immamapletreekid]

ok movie thoughts time

[starbuck]

OH MY GOD I THINK I’M HAVING A TRAUMA RESPONSE

[sugarstarlights]

Good news: the mark's gone forever and I have a new semi-temporary tattoo. Also my soul actually took the change instead of immediately turning back to its 'save state'.

Bad news: I'm not sure what I expected from being digitized but my vague assumptions didn't originally involve that much screaming.

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. the jjk men coming back home to their lovely housewife after a rough day at work <3

tags. satoru, suguru, toji, sukuna x housewife!female reader (separately). fluff, mostly smut. size difference for all of em. manhandling here n there. p in v -> unprotected. crēampies. brēēding themes. half asleep when writing this—apologies for any grammar errors

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔. dry humping, cūmshot, reader gets called ‘angel, baby’.

“mmmh.. ya smell like cookies,” satoru sighs as he hugs you from behind, lightly swaying your bodies back and forth in a romantic dance. you had jazz playing in the background while you were baking some cookies, completely relaxing in the comfort of your home.

you got somewhat startled when satoru first appeared behind you, his arms sneaking around your waist. you scolded him—though were quickly soothed back into a loving mood when he kissed your neck and enveloped you in his embrace.

satoru can’t help but to let his urges take over. having his pretty little wife in his arms in that apron he bought, is doing unspeakable things to his body. his hands roam all over your torso until they stop to fondle your breasts.

“no no,” your husband swirls his tongue around your ear as his hands squeeze your chest from underneath your shirt. “continue what you’re doing, angel. let your hubby do what he needs to do, ‘kay?”

you’re used to the usual routine by now; satoru coming home, spoiling you with either gifts, food or his affection before relieving his stress on you. satoru never leaves you sexually frustrated—ever.

“kay,” you nod and just continue to work on the batter for your next batch of chocolate chip cookies. it’s difficult to concentrate when satoru’s warm breath sends shivers down your spine. his tongue slithers from your ear to your neck, unapologetically leaving hickeys. he always makes sure to give you them. you’re his and he needs to keep reminding you of that fact.

“fuck, baby,” satoru’s breath hitches once he feels your hips jolt back against his groin. his fingers brushing against your sensitive nipples was all it took for you to get worked up. you whimper his name under your breath—body squirming in his arms.

satoru bites your earlobe gently, his own hips not able to stay still for another second. he rolls his lower body against yours from behind until you can feel the imprint of his hardening erection pressing against your ass. you grind back against him, to which satoru responds by tweaking your swollen nipples, “such a naughty fuckin’ wife i have.”

your husband is on the edge of just cumming into his pants without any shame. he’s done so before when in your presence—the dry humping always gets to him. it’s a weakness of his that he isn’t good at hiding. he rubs his huge bulge right between your sweet and plump asscheeks, getting off from the feeling.

“gonna make me cum in my pants,” satoru whines and his slender fingers dig into the fat of your breasts even more. he’s needy for you, for every part of you. the fact that you’re sweet enough to accept what he gives you is driving him to the brink of insanity. he tries to stop himself, though to no avail, “shit— don’t wanna— need to cum inside of y—”

a string of whimpers leave satoru’s mouth and his hips spasms against your ass, pressing you against the kitchen counter as he gives one last thrust forward. “my god,” satoru breathes against your nape, his throat dry as he imagines that it’s your warm cunt swallowing every drop of his cum instead of his boxers.

you turn your head to look at satoru behind you. “are you okay, hubby?” you ask through soft breaths. the white-haired man shivers at your smooth voice which makes him press the bulge in his pants against your behind even tighter. you can feel a certain wetness starting to form on the front of your lover’s pants.

“yeah, totally fine,” satoru breathes out, trying to stay cool, calm and collected. he’s trying his best not to ravage you right now. he’s throbbing—blood flowing into his cock again already. you’re the only one who could trigger such sensual reactions from him.

satoru pats your ass a couple times, letting his wet tip rub against your folds through his pants;

“just wish i could’ve bred y’r cunt instead. fuck—can i? need to pump my pretty girl full before i go insane.”

𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔. on the table top lol, reader gets called ‘sweetheart, darling’

suguru always makes a beeline towards you after he gets home. it’s tough being a cult leader—having to ‘treat’ people who come begging him for help. having to exorcise those curses that haunt those incompetent buffoons.

all of it is exhausting to the sorcerer. and what better way is there than to find solace in the presence of his stay at home wife?

“sweetheart,” suguru shows you that handsome smile of his the moment he steps into the living room, “need some help?” his eyes dart down at you on your knees, manually scrubbing a spot underneath the couch that was hard to reach. his gaze is focused on the arch of your back, how your ass sticks up as you complain about you’re inability to reach that spot in the corner.

“no, ‘tis fine,” you sigh and give up. you sit up straight on your knees and finally look at suguru. you didn’t expect him to stand so close to you in under a second, his hands reaching for you the moment he comes into your vision.

before you know it, you’re stripped from your shorts and panties. your back is on top of the nearest dining table and suguru’s standing right between your spread legs. he reveals his stiff cock after unzipping his pants and gives it a good few pumps as he looks you up and down, “i’ll fuck the frustration out of you, yeah? don’t you worry, darling.”

a win-win situation; suguru gets to take care of his needs and you get to forget about your exhaustion from all the household chores. your back arches off the surface and your eyes widen the second you feel his dick invade your tight pussy.

“mmh, yeah— that’s it,” suguru grunts, not able to take off his eyes from your wet folds as his cock disappears between them with each thrust. he starts off slow, allowing you to get used to the feeling of being stretched out, “you’re doing so well. you deserve this and so much more.” you appreciate the little things your husband does to make sure you stay comfortable throughout the entire process.

“suguruu,” you moan out his name, to which he responds with a short hum. your nails dig into his muscular back with every move—each time his tip taps that sweet spot deep inside of you. suguru kisses the inside of your upper arm before moving up to place a peck on your forehead.

“mhm, such a good little wife,” he sighs in content and fails to contain those noises of pleasure. you catch the faint grunts and moans that leave his lips between heavy breaths. suguru’s completely blessed to have you be his forever lover, “thank you for taking care of the house today as well.”

your stomach fills with butterflies because of his smooth tone. suguru’s calm yet hoarse voice ringing in your ears makes you want to burst already. the long-haired man punctuates his thrusts with pecks on your cheeks—kissing you after each slow yet harsh hip thrust.

your teary eyes meet his and you’re completely mesmerised by the way he looks at you. your husband is careful about the way he treats you, especially during intimate moments where you’re the most vulnerable.

though at the end of the day, he’s also but a man. seeing his gorgeous wife underneath him as he’s drilling into her will make him lose it. no doubt. all suguru wishes to do is to make that belly of yours expand with his love—his cum;

“hold onto me, sweetheart. i’m going to go a bit harder on you today, is that okay? yeah? good girl, take it for me.”

𝐅. 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈; mating press, reader gets called ‘doll, wife, ma.’

assassin work is not for the weak. you know it, toji knows it. he always comes back home late at night. sometimes he doesn’t return home for days on end. you’re constantly living in fear that your husband may never return. even as toji reassures you that he will, every day.

“were ya worried again, doll?” toji asks as he tries to console you. you had been crying, he could guess by the dried tears on your cheeks. it’s around three in the morning and he had returned from yet another mission. only to find you still up.

“you promised you’ll stop doing such dangerous work,” you hiccup, trying your best not to cry again. toji sighs and turns your face so he could look you in the eye. he can’t help the tingle of excitement that runs down his spine—you’re adorable when you’re upset, “i did, didn’t i?” toji nods as his callused hand runs up and down your side.

he feels guilty every single night. he’s going to quit his job for your sake, though first, he has to save up some money that would last you a couple months. toji hates seeing you in distress about him and thus always tries to distract you.

by pleasuring you until you’re unable to think about nothing but him.

“i’ll make it up to ya,” toji grunts the moment he has your legs up in the air, your body nearly folded in half underneath his bigger one. he loves this position solely because he can see every change in your facial expressions. “c’mon, wife,” the dark-haired man mumbles, his eyes glued to your bouncy breasts and pouty lips, “told ya not to worry too much ‘bout me, yeah?”

you nod, knowing you should trust your husband. he’s never once broken his promises of coming back home to you. so, you simply let go and moan his name repeatedly as his tip kisses the deepest parts of your insides. “i—i trust you,” your tongue rolls out due to how well toji’s pounding you into the mattress.

toji grins at the sight. just a couple thrusts and you’re gone—completely cockdrunk without a worry in sight. he lets out a moan at the way you’re holding onto him so desperately, like you don’t want him to go. “fuck, keep that up ‘n i’m gonna knock you up, ma,” toji hisses. he can’t keep himself from cumming right inside of your cunt if it keeps on squeezing him.

you can’t even respond due to his thrusts knocking the wind out of your lungs. you can only babble about how deep he is and how you’d love to carry his kid. toji’s on cloud nine as he hears you confess your desires to get impregnated by none other than him;

“mmh, don’tcha worry, ‘m g’nna make you a momma soon enough. that way y’ won’t be lonely no more when i’m gone. gonna give you a kid so that you’ll always have a piece of me around—heh.”

𝐒. 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍; heian era. degradation. cunnilingus. reader gets called ‘woman, brat,’

all you can do when sukuna isn’t around, is bore yourself to death. you hang out with your lady-in-waiting or with the cats walking around the estate. sometimes you go visit markets or other beautiful places right outside of the area, but that’s all there is to it.

though, when sukuna returns from his duties, you’re always happily welcoming him back. you’re the first one to greet him and lead him to a place of relaxation. that place being your shared bedroom. sukuna’s hungry eyes that are focusing on the way your clothes fit around your curves tell you more than enough.

“where ‘s my dinner, woman?” the king of curses’ deep baritone nearly makes you shake. you watch as he sits back against the headboard of the bed, his expression stoic yet amused. you know he doesn’t mean real food—he means you.

you’re his dinner.

you take the hint and slowly undress yourself, a strip tease to make sukuna excited about what’s to come. however there are more consequences to teasing him, as he isn’t a person known for his patience.

“stop wriggling,” sukuna scoffs against your wet cunt not a minute later. your clothes are ripped off your body and your legs are wrapped around his head. you can’t stay still when sukuna’s tongue is quite literally devouring you.

you moan out his name loudly, just the way he likes it. sukuna grins against your wet folds, letting the tip of his tongue roll up and down your slit while his thick finger lazily stimulates your clitoris. “got a fuckin’ brat as a wife,” sukuna delivers a harsh slap against your sensitive cunt after cupping it with one big hand, “stay still, i said.”

you squeal at the rough contact. you attempt to listen to your husband, but your body doesn’t allow it. your sticky thighs keep shaking and your hips keep jerking upwards against his mouth. his wet tongue slobbering all over your pussy is a clear sign of just how much sukuna looks forward to coming home—to watch you beg for mercy when he goes too far.

“delicious,” sukuna pants as he dives deeper into your folds, burying his entire face against your cunt. he sniffs your scent and simultaneously enjoys the taste of your wet juices. you’re all he needs after a frustrating day of taking care of duties back to back.

one of his hands brushes against your lower abdomen to keep you pinned to the bed. you grab the wrist of that hand and hold onto it for support. sukuna groans at the sight of you trying so hard to not cum on spot from his actions.

he speeds up the movements of his tongue and his big hand squeezes your tummy a little in the meantime;

“i think i’ll go for a second round of dessert after this one, ey? what’d ya think? wanna let everyone know that you, your cunt and your whole body is all mine—so i’ll probably fuck ye so good y’re gonna be heard all ‘round the estate.”

[motomamita]

college!bf!könig × female!reader

warnings: +18, smut, risky sex!

college!boyfriend!könig fucking you in his room, not caring that his roommate is there. He wrapped his strong arms around you, making sure you didn't escape anywhere while one of his hands covered your mouth.

"shh, be quiet, honey." He murmurs in your ear with his hoarse voice. "You don't want him to realize what's going on here."

both of your eyes are locked on the other boy in the room, who has his back to you at his desk working on his essay, having no idea what's going on behind him. König had developed a taste for fucking you in places where both of you could be discovered, his bedroom being his favorite place.

könig's thick cock slowly entered and exited your pussy, hitting your most sensitive spot with each thrust and making you moan lightly. Your thighs were wet as were his balls, making a sticky sound every time he entered you. His roommate continued working, totally focused on his laptop despite both of you moaning.

"i'm sweating... Let me cool off." In one movement König removed the blanket that covered you both, leaving you completely exposed.

you tried to cover yourself but he held your wrists with one of his hands while the other grabbed your leg. König increased the speed of his thrusts, fucking you as if you were the only ones in the room. Without a blanket over you, the sounds of your bodies colliding could be heard clearly as well as the moans that escaped your mouth. His cock moved in and out of you at a cruel, totally pleasurable pace that made you completely forget that anyone else was there with you.

it wasn't enough for your orgasm to come, followed by König's who grunted as he filled your insides with his hot semen. When you managed to calm down you looked at the roommate who was now wearing his headphones and playing music at full volume. he had definitely heard you. oops!

[nochepsicodelica]

You're tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep in any position you lie in. Every time you turn, Toji accommodates to your new position, but you never last in one position long enough for him to stay asleep.

"Do you not want me to cuddle you or something?" He asks, opening his tired eyes for the nth time that night.

"No, you're good," you respond, turning onto your side, again. He sighs, hoping this will be the position you finally fall asleep in. He latches onto your back, wrapping his arm around you before shutting his eyes. Two minutes later, you're wiggling around, again, turning onto your stomach. Your arms wrap around your pillow, and you rest the side of your face on it. Toji always has to be touching some part of you when he sleeps, so he throws his arm over your back. He clicks his tongue when, once again, you flip onto your back.

"What, baby? Why are you moving around so much?" He's trying not to let his tiredness control his attitude towards you, but you've been doing this for almost half an hour now.

"I can't sleep. I close my eyes and nothing happens. It's just dark," you explain.

"Well, try again, ma. You wake up too early to be going to sleep so late."

You do as he says, and try again. Your arms rest on your stomach and you try to stay as still as possible with your eyes shut. Suddenly, your feet feel too warm and you feel the urge to find a cool spot on the blanket, so you shift your legs. You feel like your head is in an awkward position on your pillow, like you're sinking backwards and your neck is uncomfortable because of it. You feel like turning back onto your side and curling up, so you do just that, letting Toji's arm slide off your chest.

"Shift one more time," he grumbles, turning his body towards your back, again, draping his arm over your waist. He's tired of hearing the sheets rustle with every move you make.

You heed his warning, and stay still for the longest you have in a minute. Toji thinks you may have finally fallen asleep, and feels safe to doze off, as well.

Then, you flip onto your other side, snapping the last string of Toji's patience. Without a single warning, you're being pulled until you're flat on top of him, your face buried in his chest. His arms wrap around you, fastening your body against his and he crosses his legs over yours, securing them. He can feel you fidgeting in his hold, still trying to move.

"Stop, mama," he says, holding you tighter. "Just breathe."

You still and try to focus on the sound of his heartbeat. It's steady, like the rise and fall of his chest. He smells good and his skin is comfortably warm. His arms apply a relaxing amount of pressure on your back. You don't feel unsteady as you remain balanced on top of him. Your eyelids feel heavy and your breathing is replicating the rhythm of his. Your heartbeat is slowing as you calm down and you release all the tension in your body, allowing yourself to go limp. Your eyelids fall shut and all that can be heard are the soft sounds of you breathing through your nose. Both of you finally get to rest.