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earthchica · 2 days ago

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my lady, my love

aaron pierre x black, fem! reader {actress}

summary: On your press tour in New York, you eagerly anticipate reuniting with Aaron in London. Despite your friendly connection with your co-star during interviews, your playful banter raises Aaron's jealousy when he sees a recent interview.

warnings: explicit smut 18+, jealousy, makeup sex, unprotected, light daddy kink, breeding kink, long-distance, dirty talking, boyfriend/girlfriend, actor/actress, not real life, original characters, use of Y/N, words: 6k

Note: hiii, back to writing. Part 4 is here, I hope you enjoy it.

chapter one - chapter two - chapter three

As you reached the halfway point of the press tour, you began counting down the days. You and Aaron have kept in touch, texting and FaceTiming whenever possible.

You miss him so much, and this is your first experience with a long-distance relationship. Aaron is still in London while you finish your last few interviews and photo shoots in New York.

However, once you're done in NYC, you're going to London, and you'll finally get to see him. The thought fills you with excitement. You could hear your co-star Noah across the hall as you sat in the little dressing room.

The next few interviews started out chill, with you and Noah sitting side by side, with smiles on your faces. The next interviewer leaned in, clearly trying to stir the pot.

“So, tell me about the chemistry between you two! It’s palpable on screen,” she said, eyes gleaming excitedly. Noah looked at you with that playful grin.

“Oh, it’s undeniable. I mean, we vibe, you know? Just look at her!” Noah gestured to you dramatically, making you giggle.

“She’s like the perfect co-star, and I might even say… the perfect girl,” he added

You shot him a teasing smirk, leaning back in your chair. “Aw, thanks, Noah. But don’t get it twisted now! I’m taken, you know?” You winked.

“What? No way, who’s the lucky guy?” The interviewer replied, feigning shock. You leaned closer, lowering your voice as if it were a deep secret.

“Good girl never tells,” you giggled, delivering the line with sass. The interviewer laughed.

The rest of the interview flew by in a blur of laughter and lighthearted banter. By the time it wrapped, you felt more at ease, the earlier anxiety melting.

You and Noah exchanged a quick hug before parting ways, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for his friendship. He always knew how to make things feel lighter.

After a few solo interviews, back in your hotel room later that evening, you took a deep breath and took a shower. Afterward, you changed into some comfortable clothes and ordered room service.

Once settled down on the bed with your phone, you dialed Aaron's number, a smile spreading. However, it went to voicemail. You knew it must be around 10 PM in London, so he should still be awake.

So you tried again, but unfortunately, it didn't work. You then texted him. "Hey baby, just finished my interviews for the day. I miss you. Call me back when you can. I love you!"

As you waited for a response, you felt a pang of loneliness and began to wonder if Aaron was just too busy. You decided to go to bed and catch a quick flight to London tomorrow morning to surprise him.

Seven hours later and ten minutes later, you made it to his apartment around 2:00 PM; you texted him to see if he was home before knocking on the door.

Aaron opened the door wearing sweats and a hoodie. He was slightly happy and surprised to see you, but he looked like he had a little attitude.

“Hey,” Aaron said, his voice flat, as he stepped aside to let you in. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to read his expression.

“Hi, baby,” you replied softly, stepping inside. The apartment smelled faintly of tea and old books, just like you remembered. You set your suitcases down by the door and turned to face him.

“I missed you,” you added, your voice trembling slightly.

Aaron sighed, running a hand through his face. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he said, but there was a hint of something else in his tone—something that made your stomach twist.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep the mood light. “Are you okay, baby?” you started, hoping to ease into whatever bothered him.

“So, I saw the interview posted today.” Aaron’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Oh, you did! That’s great. Really great, right? um, which one?” You blinked, taken aback by his tone.

“Don't act like you don't know! All that flirting with Noah? Really?” Aaron said with a frown.

Your jaw dropped.

“Wait, hold up. You’re upset about that? Aaron, it was just playful banter! You know how interviews are—it’s all for the cameras. Noah was just playing around, and I clarified that I was taken!” you said, raising your eyebrow.

Aaron raised an eyebrow, his expression unmoved. “Playful banter? No, love, that was more than that. You were giggling, smiling all over his face like you had a whole thing going on. And don’t even get me started on how he looked at you.”

You stepped closer, your hands reaching out to touch his arm, but he didn’t budge.

“Aaron, come on. You know me better than that. Noah’s just a friend; that’s it, nothing more. I love you, and I want you only. I’m sorry I made you feel like that.”

Aaron took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly as he looked down at you. His eyes softened just a fraction, but the tension still hung heavy.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pressing your body against him. “Let me make up to you; let me remind you exactly what you are to me," You said softly.

In a searing kiss, you crashed your lips against his, pouring all your frustration and desire into it. Aaron gasped, allowing his tongue to sweep into your mouth.

You felt his anger melted away as heat flooded his body. "I miss you so damn much, you know that," You murmured against his lips as his hands roamed your body hungrily.

A low moan escaped Aaron's lips as you deepened the kiss, caressing the back of his neck.

"I missed you too," Aaron breathed, his voice rough with emotion.

"But please don’t do that, baby. I can't stand seeing you like that with someone else."

"I know," you whispered, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. "You're the only one I want, Aaron. The only one I need."

Aaron nodded, his expression softening even more, and you pushed him towards the couch, your hands firm but gentle. He stumbled back, his eyes widening in surprise, but he didn't resist.

You got on your knees in front of him, your hands sliding up his thighs, massaging the tense muscles there. "Relax, baby," you murmured, your voice low and soothing.

"Let me take care of you."

Aaron leaned back against the couch, his breath hitching as your hands worked their magic. "Love!" he groaned, his voice thick and low with desire.

"You always know how to make me feel better."

You smirked up at him, your fingers teasing the waistband of his sweatpants.

"That's 'cause I know what you love," you purred, sliding your hands under the fabric and taking hold of him. He hissed sharply, his hips jerking involuntarily as you began to stroke him slowly, firmly.

"Aaron," you whispered, your breath hot against his skin as you leaned closer. "I love you so much, baby. You know that, right? You’re my everything."

Aaron moaned softly, his hands gripping the edge of the couch tightly. "I know," he managed to say, his voice trembling.

"I just… I can’t help it sometimes. I see you out there, shining like a damn star, and I get scared. Scared someone’s gonna take you away from me."

You paused momentarily, looking up at him with pure adoration. "Nobody is taking me away from you," you said firmly, your voice steady and full of conviction.

"You got me, Aaron. Always and Forever."

Aaron let out a shaky breath, nodding as he gently cups your face with his massive hands. "You promise?" he whispered, his voice raw with vulnerability.

"I promise," you said, your eyes locked onto his. Then, with a sly smile, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against the tip of his dick as you spoke.

"But right now, I wanna make it all melt away, baby. Just focus on me and how good I will make you feel," you added.

Aaron groaned, his head falling back against the couch as you pressed a soft kiss to the sensitive head of his dick.

"Shit," he muttered, his fingers tightening in your hair. "You always know how to drive me crazy."

You chuckled lowly, your breath hot against his skin. "That’s the plan," you purred before taking him into your mouth slowly, savoring the way he twitched and throbbed against your tongue.

You swirled your tongue around the tip, teasing him relentlessly, making him squirm beneath you.

"Fuck," Aaron hissed, his hips bucking slightly as you sucked him deeper. "You’re so damn good at this."

You pulled back slightly, letting him slip out of your mouth with a wet pop. "You like that?" you asked, looking up at him with a mischievous glint.

"Like it?" Aaron groaned, his voice rough and desperate. "Baby, I love it. You got me out here losing my mind, and you're not even done yet."

You smirked, fingers tracing the vein along his length, making him shiver. "Oh, I’m far from done," you whispered, your voice dripping with promise.

"You think I’m just gonna stop when I got you lookin’ like this? All hot and bothered, tryin’ to hold it together? Nah, big daddy. I’m about to take you to a whole ‘nother level."

Aaron’s breath hitched as you leaned back in, your tongue flat against his shaft as you licked him from base to tip. He cursed under his breath, his hands gripping the couch so tight his knuckles turned white.

"You play too much," he muttered, but there was no real complaint in his tone—just pure, unadulterated need.

"Oh, I’m dead serious," you shot back, your lips wrapping around him again as you took him deep into your throat. This time, you didn’t hold back, bobbing your head rhythmically, your hand working in tandem with your mouth to drive him wild.

The wet sounds filled the room, mingling with Aaron’s heavy breaths and the occasional curse that slipped past his lips.

You could feel him trembling beneath you, his thighs tensing as he fought to keep himself from losing control too soon. But you weren’t about to let him hold back—not afternoon.

"Tell me how it feels, big daddy," you murmured, pulling back just enough to let him feel the cool air against his slick skin. Your eyes locked onto his, dark and hungry, as you waited for his response.

Aaron’s chest heaved as he struggled to find the words. "Feels… feels like heaven," he finally managed, his voice strained and thick with desire. "Like you’re tryna suck my soul out through my dick, love."

You grinned, your tongue darting out to lick a slow, deliberate stripe along the underside of his shaft.

"Good," you purred. "That’s exactly what I’m aiming for. I want you to forget everything but me and this moment. Just focus on how good I’m making you feel."

He groaned, his head falling back again as you took him back into your mouth, this time deeper than before. Your throat relaxed around him, and you could feel the way his body jerked in response, his hips instinctively thrusting up into the warmth of your mouth.

Your hands moved to grip his thighs, holding him steady as you worked him over with a rhythm that was both relentless and intoxicating.

The sounds he made—those low, guttural moans and breathless curses—were music to your ears, driving you to push him even further.

"You always taste so amazing, Terry," you murmured, your voice muffled but still dripping with that same sultry tone. "Like you were made just for me. You feel it too, don’t you? How we fit together like this like it’s some kinda cosmic shit."

Aaron’s hands were in your hair now, tangling in the curls as he tried to keep himself grounded.

"Damn, yes, I feel it," he growled, his voice low and raw. "You got me out here feelin’ like I’m floatin’; keep goin’, baby. Don’t stop."

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Your mouth worked him over with a fervor that left him gasping, your tongue swirling around the head of his dick before plunging him back into the heat of your throat.

His grip on your hair tightened, sending a shiver down your spine as you felt the tension building in him, his body coiled like a spring ready to snap.

You pulled back again, letting him slide out of your mouth with a wet pop, and then you stood up, your eyes never leaving his. "You want this pussy? because I want your dick," you asked, your voice low and teasing as you slowly began to peel off your clothes.

Aaron’s eyes widened as he watched you, his breath hitching in his throat. "Yes, love," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "You don't gotta tell me twice."

You smirked, taking your time as you took your shirt, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. Your hands moved to the waistband of your pants, and you slid them down your legs with deliberate slowness, stepping out of them one foot at a time.

Aaron’s eyes were glued to your body, his gaze hot and heavy as he took in every inch of you. "Fuck," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You’re fuckin’ perfect. How did I get so lucky?"

You grinned, feeling satisfied at how he looked at you. "Maybe by fate," you purred, climbing onto the couch and straddling him.

His hands immediately went to your hips, gripping you tightly as you shifted forward, your pussy hovering just above his throbbing dick.

You could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his breath hitched as you teased him, letting your folds brush against the tip of his length.

"You feel that?" you whispered, your voice dripping with seduction as you ground down just enough to make him groan. "That’s all for you, baby. This pussy’s been waitin’ to feel you inside me for weeks."

Aaron’s hands tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin like he was trying to keep himself from losing control.

"Quit playing, love," he growled, his voice rough and desperate. "You are gonna drive me crazy sittin’ up there like that. Put that pussy on me already."

You smirked, leaning down so your lips were just inches from his ear.

"What’s the matter? You can’t handle a little tease?" you purred, your breath hot against his skin as you rolled your hips again, letting him feel just how wet you were for him.

"You want this pussy so bad, huh? Tell me how bad you want it."

"Shit," he hissed, his hips bucking up instinctively as he tried to get closer to you.

"You wanna know how bad?" Aaron growled, his voice thick with need.

"I want it so bad I can’t think straight. I want it so bad it’s all I see when I close my eyes—this pussy, this body, riding me like you own me. I want it so bad I’d beg if you don’t give it to me right now. So quit playing and let me feel you, girl. Let me feel that heat, that group wrapped around me. ‘Cause I’m about to lose my damn mind up in here." Aaron moaned.

You bit your lip, holding back a moan as his words sent a rush of heat straight to your pussy.

"That’s what I love to hear," you whispered, finally lowering yourself onto him, inch by torturous inch. You gasped as he filled you completely, the stretch and burn to ignite every nerve in your body.

"Oh goodness," you breathed, your head falling back as you adjusted to him. "So big...you feel so good inside me."

Aaron groaned, his hands gripping your hips even tighter as he guided your movements. "Fuck, baby," he rasped, his voice strained. "I miss this pussy. Always so wet, so tight for me."

You moaned softly, your nails digging into his shoulders as you started to move, riding him with slow, deliberate rolls of your hips.

"You like that, Aaron?" you purred, your voice dripping with sweetness and sin. "You like how this pussy grips you? How it’s all yours, just for you?"

Aaron’s eyes fluttered shut briefly before he locked his gaze back on yours, dark and hungry.

"I love it, baby fuck, I love it," he growled, his voice rough and low. "This pussy is all mine, it's mine, nobody else can handle it like I do. Nobody else gonna make you feel like this."

His hands slid up your sides, thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending a shiver through your body. "You know that, right? This pussy belongs to me. Tell me it's mine."

You arched into his touch, your breath hitching as he teased your sensitive peaks. "Mmm, yes, it is," you whispered, grinding down harder on him, making him groan deep in his chest.

"All yours, baby. Only you can make me feel this good." You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "Only you can make me come so hard I forget my own name."

Aaron’s grip tightened around your waist, his fingers digging into your dark-brown skin as he pulled you closer, his breath hot and ragged against your neck.

“That’s right, baby,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “You gonna scream my name louder than ever before. Ain’t no shame in it, either. Let the whole damn world know who you belong to.”

His other hand tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp, your body trembling with anticipation.

“Shit, Aaron,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as his teeth grazed your collarbone.

“You're gonna wreck me, huh? Gonna make me forget everything but you?” Your hips moved faster now, riding him with a desperate rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You could feel him throbbing inside you, his length hitting all the right spots, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Aaron’s lips crashed against yours in a fierce kiss, swallowing your moans as his tongue explored your mouth. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were blazing with intensity.

“Damn right, I am,” he muttered, his voice rough and commanding.

“I’m gonna ruin this pussy for anybody else. You ain��t never gonna want nobody but me forever. You hear me?”

His hands moved to your ass, gripping you tightly as he thrust up into you, his movements hard and relentless.

“Yes, Aaron, yes!” you cried, your voice rising with each powerful stroke.

“Only you, baby, it’s only ever been you!” Your nails raked down his shoulders as you clung to him, your body trembling with the force of your desire.

“Fuck, I’m so close, Aaron. I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fucking cum!”

“That’s it, love,” he urged, his voice a low, guttural growl. “Cum for me. Let me feel that tight little pussy squeeze the soul outta me.” His thrusts became even more intense, each one driving you closer to the brink.

“No holding back. You give me everything you got, you hear me?” Aaron added.

“I can’t—I can’t hold it,” you sobbed, your body arching as the first wave of your climax crashed over you. “Oh fuck, Aaron, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”

Your cries echoed through the room, your body convulsing as you shattered around him, your pussy clamping down on his big dick with a vice-like grip.

Aaron’s breath hitched, his own control slipping as he felt you come undone beneath him. “Fuck, baby, that’s it,” he groaned, his voice strained with the effort to hold back.

“You feel so good, so fucking good. You take all of me, huh? You take this dick like you were made for it.”

You could barely form words, your mind a haze of pleasure as you rode out the waves of your orgasm. But Aaron wasn’t done with you yet.

He lifts you and lays you at the corner of the couch, pinning your wrists above your head as he hovers over you and slams back into you; his pace is brutal and unrelenting.

Your back arched off the bed as he pounded into you, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside you that had you seeing stars.

“Aaron!” you screamed, your voice raw and desperate. “Please, don’t stop! Don’t ever stop!”

“I'm stopping ‘til I fill this pussy up, baby,” Aaron growled, his voice thick with desire.

“You want that? Do you want me to nut deep inside you? Make you feel every drop?” His hips snapped forward with a force that had you gasping, your body trembling beneath him as he drove into you with a rhythm that was both punishing and intoxicating.

“Tell me how bad you want it.”

“So bad,” you moaned, your voice a desperate plea. “I need it, Aaron. I need you to fill me up and remember who I belong to. Please, baby, I can’t take it anymore—I need you to cum in me!”

Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him deeper as your nails dug into his back, leaving marks that only fueled his intensity.

“That’s my girl,” Aaron muttered, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your dark-brown skin with softness and admiration.

“Taking this dick like a fucking queen. You love this shit, don’t you? Love feeling me stretch that pussy out; make it mine.” His thrusts became erratic, his control slipping as he felt his own climax building.

“You gonna take every last drop of this nut, huh? Gonna let me breed that tight pussy?”

“Yes!” you cried, your body arching against his as the heat between you both reached its peak.

"Breed me, Aaron. Make it so I can’t forget what you did to me." Your voice was a ragged whisper, trembling with need as you felt him swell inside you, his dick throbbing with the promise of release.

"That’s it," he snarled, his hands gripping your hips hard as he pounded into you, each thrust hitting deeper, harder.

"You’re gonna feel me for days, baby. Every time you move, every time you sit down, you’re gonna remember this dick splitting you open."

His voice was a low growl, possessive and raw, sending shivers down your spine.

Your head fell back, a keening moan escaping your lips as he hit that perfect spot inside you again and again. The pressure was building, your body coiling tight like a spring ready to snap.

"Aaron, I’m so close," you gasped, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. "Then cum for me," he demanded, his voice rough and commanding.

"Cum with me as I fill you up. Let me feel that pussy milk every drop out of me." His pace quickened, his hips slamming into yours with a force that had you crying out, your body trembling on the edge.

And then it hit you—a wave of pleasure so intense it felt like you were being torn apart and put back together all at once. Your body convulsed, your walls clenching around him as you came hard, your screams muffled against his shoulder.

Aaron groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge, his dick pulsing deep inside you as he emptied himself, his release hot and thick as it filled you to the brim.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice hoarse as he collapsed on top of you, his body still shuddering with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“You feel that, baby?” He asked, pushing his cum in and out as he kissed you then, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that left you breathless, his tongue sliding against yours as he poured every ounce of his desire into that kiss.

You moaned into his mouth, your hand on the back of his neck as you kissed him back with equal fervor, your bodies still connected as you both rode out the last waves of pleasure together.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with satisfaction, a smug grin tugging at his lips as he looked down at you.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice low and possessive. “All mine.”

You lay there, spent and trembling, your body still humming with the intensity of what had just happened between you. The air was thick with the scent of sex, the room silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing.

Aaron shifted slightly, pulling you closer so that you were lying on his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he held you close.

“That was…” you started, your voice trailing off as you struggled to find the words to describe your feelings.

“Perfect,” Aaron finished for you, his voice filled with a quiet satisfaction. He kissed the top of your head, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back as you lay there, basking in the afterglow.

“You’re so perfect.”

You smiled, your eyes closing as you let yourself relax in his arms, the warmth of his body enveloping you. After a few minutes of lying there, tangled in each other and breathing.

Aaron finally shifted, his hands sliding down your back. “C’mon,” he murmured, his voice still rough but softer now, laced with affection.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

You and Aaron got dressed in some casual clothes, and Aaron got some food delivered. You two were eating and chatted about what’s been going on despite your little argument earlier.

“So,” you said, leaning. “You know that movie premiere tomorrow night?” You paused, biting your lip to hide the sly smile creeping onto your face.

“I was thinkin’… maybe you could come with me. As my date.”

Aaron’s fork froze mid-air, a piece of food dangling precariously as he turned to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Really?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, but there was a hint of playfulness there too. “Are you sure you want that? I mean, I’m all for it.”

You smirked, leaning closer to him, your voice dripping with confidence.

“Oh, I’m more than sure. Let ‘em talk. Let ‘em get jealous. Let ‘em know I’m yours, and you’re mine. But…” You paused for effect, your eyes locking with his.

“We’ll still keep it private between us. No need to give ‘em all the details.”

You and Aaron got dressed in some casual clothes, and Aaron got some food delivered. You two were eating and chatted about what’s been going on despite your little argument earlier.

“So,” you said, leaning. “You know that movie premiere tomorrow night?” You paused, biting your lip to hide the sly smile creeping onto your face.

“I was thinkin’… maybe you could come with me. As my date.”

Aaron’s fork froze mid-air, a piece of food dangling precariously as he turned to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Really?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, but there was a hint of playfulness there too. “Are you sure you want that? I mean, I’m all for it.”

You smirked, leaning closer to him, your voice dripping with confidence.

“Oh, I’m more than sure. Let ‘em talk. Let ‘em get jealous. Let ‘em know I’m yours, and you’re mine. But…” You paused for effect, your eyes locking with his.

“We’ll still keep it private between us. No need to give ‘em all the details.”

Aaron’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smirked, setting his fork down on the edge of his plate. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his expression thoughtful.

“Alright, so you’re saying… you want to take me to the premiere. As your date. And we’re keeping it private but still making it clear to everyone else that we’re… together.”

He paused, his gaze never leaving yours. “And you’re okay with that? With everyone knowing, even if we’re not broadcasting the details?”

You nodded, your confidence unwavering. “Why wouldn’t I be? We’re adults, Aaron. And what we have… it’s worth it. Besides, I think it’s time people know that you’re off the market.”

Aaron chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. He pushed his chair back and stood, walking over to you with a slow, predatory grace.

“And who’s going to make sure I stay off the market?” asked, his voice low and teasing as he leaned down, his face inches from yours.

You grinned, your heart pounding in your chest. “Oh, I think I can handle that.” Before you could say another word, Aaron’s lips were on yours, warm and firm, sending a wave of heat through your body.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as the room around you faded. All that mattered was the two of you, lost in the moment, the world outside melting into nothingness.

The following day, Aaron lay sprawled across the bed, his bare chest rising and falling with each slow breath, the sheets tangled around his waist.

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching him sleep, a smile playing on your lips. The memory of the previous conversation hung in the air like a promise, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement for what the day—and the night—had in store.

“Morning,” Aaron mumbled, his voice husky with sleep as he stirred, stretching his arms above his head.

His eyes fluttered open, locking onto yours with a warm, sleepy grin. “What time is it?”

“Almost Noon,” you replied, caressing his forehead. “But we’ve got a full day ahead of us. Thought we could make the most of it before tonight.”

Aaron sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Sounds like a plan. What did you have in mind?”

You stood, walking over to the wardrobe where you’d laid out clothes the night before.

“I was thinking we could spend the day out. Maybe walk along the South Bank and grab some food at Borough Market. Just enjoy the city together before the chaos of the premiere.”

Aaron’s face lit up with interest as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Sounds good!” He said, getting out of bed butt-naked, and you laughed, smacked his ass.

“Sounds good!” He said, getting out of bed butt-naked and you laughed, smacked his ass.

“Cheeky little-,” Aaron muttered, though the grin on his face said he didn’t mind one bit. He grabbed the towel off the bed and wrapped it around his waist, his confidence as naked as his body.

“You better stop playin’ with fire, yeah? Or I’ll have to take you back to bed.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool, but the heat in your cheeks and the smile on your face told on you. “Please, you’re the one who’s been sleepin’ in till noon. If we don’t get movin’, we’ll miss the whole day.”

Aaron smirked, sauntering over to the bathroom.

“Blame me, innit? Had a right proper distraction last night.” Steam curling up, he flicked on the shower and stepped inside without closing the door.

“You comin’ in or what?”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “You think I’m fallin’ for that? We’ve got plans, remember? You’re not gonna derail ‘em with your… distractions.”

“Suit yourself,” Aaron called back, his voice muffled by the water.

“But you’re missin’ out. Could’ve been a right nice way to start the day.”

You shook your head, chuckling as you turned away. “You’re such a liar. You’d have us late and miss the whole market.”

“True, yeah,” Aaron admitted, his voice carrying over the water. “But it’d be worth it, wouldn’t it?”

You didn’t respond, but the thought lingered as you went to get dressed. By the time Aaron came out of the bathroom, his face dripped, and his skin glowing from the shower.

You were already halfway through your coffee, scrolling through your phone for the day’s itinerary. Aaron padded over to you, water droplets clinging to his chest as he leaned in to kiss your head.

“You know I’m just takin’ the piss, right? I wouldn’t actually make us late.” Aaron said, drying himself off.

“Sure you wouldn’t,” you said dryly, not looking up.

Aaron laughed, grabbing the other cup of coffee you’d poured for him. “Fair enough. You know me too well.”

Once he was dressed—looking effortlessly sharp in a simple black tee, jeans, baseball cap, and sunglasses—you both set out into the crisp air.

The South Bank was alive with energy, the Thames glinting in the sunlight as you walked hand in hand. The smell of street food hit you when you turned the corner near Borough Market, and your stomach growled in anticipation.

“Love, I’m proper starvin’,” Aaron said, squeezing your hand. “What’s the plan? You better not be thinkin’ we’re just window shoppin’.”

“Relax,” you said, smirking.

“I’ve got your back. There’s this one stall I saw last time I was here that I’ve been dying to try once I visit here again—it does the best jerk chicken and proper Caribbean vibes. And don’t even get me started on the halloumi fries.”

Aaron’s eyes lit up. “Halloumi fries? Now you’re talkin’. Let’s go find this place before I waste away.”

You led the way through the crowded market, weaving past stalls selling everything from handmade jewelry to fresh flowers. The air was thick with the smells of spices and grilled meats, and the sounds of vendors calling out to passersby mingled.

“Ah, there it is,” you said, tugging gently on Aaron’s hand as you spotted the stall between a vintage clothing stand and a bustling flower shop.

The sign read “Kiya's Caribbean” and the aroma of allspice and thyme wafted through the air, mingling with the hum of reggae music playing softly from a portable speaker.

Aaron’s eyes widened as you approached the stall, and his stomach growled audibly. “I can smell the magic from here. Let’s get in there before they run out.”

The vendor, a cheerful dark brown-skinned woman with a warm smile, a gold hoop in her nose, and long beautiful locs, greeted you both with a hearty.

“Y’ello, darlin’! What can I get for yuh today?”

“Everything, please,” Aaron said, not missing a beat. “But especially that jerk chicken. And don’t be stingy with it, yeah?”

She laughed, her voice rich and melodic. “Oh, you’re a bold one, ain’t ya? Alright, let’s set you up. For good measure, jerk chicken, rice and peas, plantain, and a side of fries.”

“And halloumi fries,” you added, nudging Aaron. “Don’t forget the halloumi fries.”

“Course not, sweetheart,” she said, winking. “I gotchu.”

As she worked her culinary magic, the grill sizzle and the rhythmic chopping of fresh herbs filled the air. Aaron leaned against the stall, his arm brushing against yours, and you couldn’t help but smile at how at ease he was, chatting with the vendor like they were old mates.

The first bite was divine when she handed you both a loaded tray. The jerk chicken was tender, the spices perfectly balanced, and the halloumi fries—crispy and creamy inside—were absolutely perfect.

You closed your eyes, savoring the flavors, and Aaron laughed, nudging you playfully. “Told you it’d be worth it,” he said, his mouth full. “You’re in your element, innit?”

You opened your eyes, catching the glint of mischief in his. “Shut up and eat your food.”

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of laughter, music, and the electric energy of the market. You wandered through the stalls, picking up a few trinkets.

Earrings shaped like tiny palm trees, a bracelet with a small charm of the Jamaican flag—and even stopped to watch a group of dancers performing to a live drum circle.

At one point, Aaron pulled you into the crowd, spinning you around with him until you were both breathless and laughing. The music was infectious, the rhythm pulsating through you like a heartbeat.

For a moment, it felt like the whole world had narrowed to just the two of you, lost in the moment's joy.

As the sun shone, you found yourselves at a small riverside spot, sharing a bottle of fresh water and watching the boats glide.

Aaron leaned back on his elbows, his eyes half-closed as he soaked in the view.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful, “days like this… they’re the ones that make life feel proper special.”

You smiled, twirling a strand of your curly hair around your finger. “Yeah,” you agreed quietly. “They’re the ones you remember.”

He turned his head, his gaze meeting yours, and for a moment, there wasn’t a single thing to say. The world just… was.

And in that moment, it was enough.

TAGS @writingsbytee @notapradagurl7 @ellemelaninbeauty @cocooned-butterfly

#aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre x reader #aaron pierre x black!reader #aaron pierre fic #black!fem!reader #aaron pierre x black fem reader #aaron pierre fanfic #x black reader #x black y/n #aaron pierre fluff #terry richmond x black!reader #aaron pierre smut

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no-phrogs-in-hats · 1 day ago

Note

I don’t know if requests are still open but if they are can I request Agatha taking reader with her strap for first time?

Thank you

Back in the Closet Part 2 !NSFW!

Agatha Harkness x fem!Reader

Part 1

Warnings: Plot? What plot? SMUT-softish smut (??? it's not too rough but there's fluff), strap-on use (R receiving), oral (R receiving), fingering (both receiving), wine use and drunk sex, lotta eye contact, I think that's it??? idk it's not beta read

A/N: I think this is by far the best and hottest thing I have ever written (Thank you Wellbutrin and my unbelievably high libido). I decided to incorporate this ask into a requested part 2 for Back in the Closet so I do hope you enjoy and the song for this chapter is absolutely Slumber Party by Britney Spears!

“Are you sure?”

You smiled gratefully at Alice, but still declined, “I’m sure. I’d rather just stay the night and drive home in the morning.”

“Okay,” she smiles back. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

After hugging the coven goodbye with kisses on their cheeks (and a skeptical glance from Lilia), you shut the door and staggered back to Agatha’s living room. It was almost one in the morning and the height of your drunken stupor was slowly tapering off, but you were still uncoordinated enough to bump into the couch before bending over to clean up the aftermath of the party.

You could feel Agatha’s eyes on you before she even spoke, “You don’t have to do that.”

When you stand back up and turn around, you feel your chest warm and mouth go dry, not having a single thought but of her hands on you. Her eyes, so blue, were now dark with desire and clouded over with inebriation and you fidget with the empty wine glass that you had picked up.

Agatha walks over, her hips swaying, and stops just barely two feet from you. Her hand reaches over to the side table and wraps around the body of a wine bottle. And while keeping eye contact with you, she tips the rim of the bottle into her mouth to take a long drink of it.

Your breathing speeds up–quite noticeably as Agatha’s smirk grows wider. She sets the bottle down slowly and steps closer to you, looking down at your lips before back up into your eyes, “You don’t have to clean up.”

Her voice is low and breathy and you can smell the scent of wine that radiates from her. When her hands come to your hips and pull you right against her, a chill runs up your spine. Your lips are mere inches apart and it takes everything in you to keep eye contact with her.

“Is there…something else you’d rather me do?” you ask, innocence lacing your voice that she knew wasn’t as pure as it sounded.

Agatha hums, “Well, I believe I promised you more than what happened in that little closet.” Her hands run up and down, memorizing the curve of your hips and waist.

“You did,” you agree. “And I don’t think you should go back on that promise.”

There are no words exchanged after that when Agatha finally caves in. She’s passionate, her lips warm against yours with the taste of cabernet sauvignon dripping from them. You set the empty glass down on the coffee table beside you without breaking the kiss and you pull her closer.

Everything around you seems to melt away when you’re in Agatha’s arms.

The only thing your ears can register over the heady mix of wine and lust is the sound of heavy breathing. Your lips are just barely brushing each other as you both cling to one another, “Do you–um–” You can hardly think properly. “Do you wanna go upstairs?”

Agatha grins against your lips and your noses brush against one another. “Sure,” she says, pulling away and walking towards the stairs. Before you’re completely out of her sight she looks back at you, “Oh, bring the wine.”

She winks and then turns back around and ascends the stairs. This is going to be a long night.

Wine in hand, you enter Agatha’s room. It feels weird–like an invasion of her privacy despite the fact that she clearly wanted you there. You smile to yourself as you see the unmade bed and the clutter on her nightstands and the folded clothes on the top of her dresser waiting to be put away. Agatha, who is so private, is offering you a glimpse into her life.

You walk over to the side of her bed and let your eyes roam over the nightstand. Among the golden light of the lamp is a digital clock, a pack of hair ties, a pair of reading glasses, an unplugged phone charger, and, the one thing that truly catches your eye: the book that you had recommended to her with a bookmark toward the very end of it.

You know damn well where you’ll be within the next fifteen minutes, but this–the fact that Agatha listened to you and your interests–that made your cheeks warmer and made your heart flutter more than the thought of her face between your legs.

The book is in your hands and you’re smiling as you flip through it, snickering at her scattered annotations about characters–specifically the ones she didn’t like. You’re completely immersed in the thoughts of Agatha when she clears her throat.

“Someone’s nosy,” she grins.

You quickly drop the book and turn around, but you have no idea what to say. She’s leaning against the doorway of the bathroom, the light of it behind her giving the illusion that she’s glowing. But your eyes are caught on the sight of her in a slip with a simple, untied satin robe accompanying it–not entirely lingerie, but definitely not something you’d wear to sleep in.

“Um–”

Agatha turns off the bathroom light and walks toward you. Her hand comes under your chin and her lips lightly kiss yours.

You exhale as she pulls away, “So…um…you’re reading the book I recommended.”

“I am,” Agatha smiles, still leaning in close with a hand on your waist.

“Do you like it?” you ask quietly.

Agatha hums, “I do,” she says, and looks down at your lips before looking you in the eyes again. “But, I didn’t have you stay over tonight for a book club meeting.”

“You did not,” you agree and lean into her touch. As you kiss her, you relish in the way her arms hold you tightly and when her hands move down and slide up under your shirt, goosebumps follow.

Her lips leave yours briefly but she’s still close enough that she might as well be speaking into your mouth, “Can I take this off?”

“Yes.”

Agatha smiles against your lips after your shirt is discarded and her hands move down to your pants, “And what about these?” she asks, her voice almost teasing. “Can I take these off?”

“Yes,” you answer, your voice breathless against her lips. “Take them off, take it all off.”

When your pants are tossed aside–and you’re wishing you had worn a matching set of a bra and underwear–her hands are on your waist, turning you around and laying you down on the bed.

You move to the center of the bed and are practically drooling at the sight of Agatha removing her robe.

“Choose a safeword,” she says and reaches for the bottle of wine.

Your mind blanks momentarily, caught up in the heat of the moment, “Um–red? Red.”

“Good girl,” she says. Agatha steps forward and climbs onto the bed, moving to straddle you–and you can already feel that she has nothing beneath the satin slip. “Now, open your mouth.”

The second the wine bottle reaches her lips and tips back you know what’s coming–and you didn’t have a single problem with it.

Her hand comes to your chin when you open your mouth and she looms over you with her lips pursed and eyes dark as they stare into yours. Her fingers, cold against your warm skin, grip your cheeks hard and the taste of wine now fills your mouth.

Agatha’s voice is cold and demanding, “Swallow.” A pleased expression replaces the hard exterior as you obey her and her grip on your jaw loosens, her thumb gently caressing the spot it lays over. “That’s it…Good girl,” she says softly.

You sit up, resting on your elbows as she kisses you. When she pulls away, she presses the opening of the bottle to your mouth and tips it forward. A steady stream of wine fills your mouth as Agatha holds it to your lips, maintaining eye contact the entire time. When you swallow the wine, the look of hunger overcomes her eyes and she tips the bottle further, taking pleasure in the way it trickles down your chin and down your chest, staining your bra in the process and making its way down to your abdomen.

After your final swallow of the wine, she sets the wine back on the nightstand and her hands wrap around you. Agatha’s fingers are quick, unclasping your bra, throwing it behind her, and pushing you back down. Her hands come to the edge of her slip and pull it over her head.

The sight of Agatha on top of you with nothing but the thick, hot air in between you makes it hard to stay still–she’s mesmerizing in every way possible as she leans over you. With her knee in between your legs and her hands on either side of your head holding your wrists down, it was hard to believe this is where you’re ending your night.

Her long hair is like a dark curtain separating you from every distraction the outside world has to offer. It’s overwhelmingly intimate.

Agatha’s lips brush yours and you’re dying to kiss her again. Instead, her tongue slowly licks up your chin, collecting every drop of wine. When she makes it back to your lips, she lifts her head face-to-face with you again.

She lets go of your wrist and moves her thumb to swipe at the bottom of your lip before connecting them with hers. It pulls every tiny breath from your lungs and you run your hand through her hand.

When Agatha pulls away, her hand is now lightly placed over top of your throat. She leans in close, your noses brushing as she mutters, “You taste absolutely delicious.”

“Oh, but you’ve only tasted the wine, Agatha.” you grin, attempting to get any amount of friction from her knee.

Her lips press lightly against yours, “Then I guess I’ll have to have a taste of something other than wine tonight.”

Your heart races as she moves lower. Her lips kiss down your throat and then she licks back up, tracing the line of wine up the column of your throat, over your jaw, and stopping beneath your ear. You gasp when she nips at the soft skin, soothing it with her lips before kissing back down your body.

Your breath comes out in short exhales as Agatha repeats her motions. Her tongue licks up your sternum and over your chest. You shiver at the feeling of her lips around your nipple as her fingers ghost over the other.

When her fingertips and hair drag lightly over your abdomen your muscles twitch beneath her touch and you shiver. She smiles and kisses just below your navel. When she speaks, her voice is low and gravelly, “Someone’s sensitive…”

Agatha’s hands move to your thighs when the rest of the wine has been licked off of you. You’re almost trembling at this point and then she sits up and removes your underwear. “There are hair ties on the nightstand,” she says. “Hand me one.”

You quickly reach over and grab one, handing it to her and watching in admiration as she gathers her hair and twists it around itself, securing it in a loose bun.

As Agatha’s face lowers, she never takes her eyes off yours and your chest rises and falls heavily. Her hands are cold against your thighs as they slide soothingly over the surface. When they make their way to the apex, she carefully spreads them apart further until you’re on full display.

Agatha looks up at you through heavy eyelids and bites the inside of her lip before licking a stripe up your folds, “God, the wine is nothing compared to you, sweetheart.”

As her tongue quickens its pace, your breathing becomes heavy and your hand grasps at her hair. It’s only then that you gasp and arch your back when Agatha takes two fingers and slips them inside you effortlessly.

She takes your clit in her mouth and sucks hard as she curls her fingers. Your eyes squeeze shut and your hand slaps over your mouth before grasping the pillow. A loud moan escapes your lips. “Oh, fuck! Agatha!”

After that, it’s impossible to stay still. Your hips match her pace, trying your best to grind against her mouth. Gasps and whimpers spur her on and she sits up on her knees, her fingers continuing their pace.

Agatha’s lips are on yours and you reach your hands up, holding her face close as you taste the intoxicating mix of yourself and wine on her tongue. When she moves to her side, her lips don’t leave yours, but her arm comes over your head. Her fingers tangle in your hair and nails lightly scratch against your scalp.

You moan into her mouth, your hands running up her thighs to her hips and waist. Your fingers trail down her stomach and don’t stop until they’re in the same position as hers are.

“Hm, you weren’t lying when you said you’ve been dying to get your hands on me,” you say. It was becoming increasingly hard for you to form proper and coherent sentences with the palm of Agatha’s hand pressing against your clit.

Agatha breathes heavily and smiles softly against your lips as her fingers tighten in your hair.

“No rebuttal, Miss Harkness?” you tease, your words breathless as your fingers pick up their pace.

She moans softly, “Oh you’ll get your rebuttal, sweetheart, just you wait.”

As if it was even possible, her fingers seem to quicken. You can’t think of anything else other than Agatha and her fingers and every sense seems to be heightened and it almost hurts but it feels so damn good.

Your own fingers keep their quick pace in her but the only sounds you’re able to get out are shallow breaths and broken moans. Both of you attempt to kiss but it ends up being a mess of tongue and teeth as you both breathe heavily.

The pleasure you’re experiencing–that you’re both experiencing–has built itself up exponentially.

“Agatha–fuck–don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t stop, please!”

Your lips are on hers and the feeling of her tongue on yours nearly sends you over the edge. Her hand slides from the top of your head over to the side, almost as if she’s keeping your head in place to keep her lips on yours. She smiles against you and struggles to get her own words out, but still, she manages, “Keep going–fuck–You’re doing so well, baby, keep going. You’re such a good girl.”

And that’s what does it.

Your left hand clutches onto her bicep as your back arches and your thighs constrict around her hand–and that’s what does it for her.

You’re both clinging to one another and everything is magnetized but non-existent simultaneously. Every problem you had before this moment is no longer relevant–instead, the feeling of Agatha’s fingers pulling your hair doubles the pleasure and your lips on hers brings a sense of comfort.

The sound of heavy, ragged breaths is the only thing that you can register after. A proper kiss is placed on your lips now and you follow it with more short pecks as your arms go around each other.

It’s quiet. You both lay there in silence. Your legs are tangled together and Agatha’s lips are against your temple. She looks down as you take her hand, lacing your fingers with hers before turning your head to face her.

You kiss her softly, pull away, another peck, you wish you could taste her every single day. “That was certainly more than what happened in the coat closet.”

Agatha smiles against your lips and kisses you again. When she pulls away her cheeks are almost pink and she looks you in the eyes, “Do you trust me?” she asks.

You’re taken aback by her question and furrow your brows, “Yes, I do. Why?”

She grins and hovers over you with her elbow and hand supporting her head. “Do you wanna try something?” she asks, her voice now soft.

You catch yourself starting to smile, “Like what?”

Agatha moves closer to you and you can feel her arm loosen around your waist as she makes eye contact. She speaks in a tone that teeters on seductive and her hand trails from your side up to your collarbones. “Like me fucking you with a strap…” Every word brought her closer and closer back to your lips and now she was moving to straddle you. “Like me watching you cum on my cock…”

You glance down at her lips and back to her eyes. “Go get it. Now.”

There’s a sparkle in her eye when she gets off you. She hurries to her closet and after five long minutes she finally returns. Agatha stands in the doorway of her closet, arm above her as she leans on the frame. She’s smirking and when your eyes glance down they catch the sight of her strap and you almost forget how to breathe.

Agatha slowly makes her way to the foot of the bed. She leans forward and climbs onto the bed, maintaining eye contact with you as she crawls toward you.

When she meets your legs, she parts them slowly and the entire time she becomes more and more dominant it seems.

You take a deep breath in when you feel the tip of the strapon run through your folds.

Agatha leans over you and forces you to make eye contact with her, “Safeword?”

“Red,” you say, voice unwavering.

“Good girl,” she praises before kissing you hard and sitting back up.

Her hands hold your thighs apart and you take a deep breath in when you feel the pressure of the strap at your entrance. Your hand reaches down to your thigh and takes hers, lacing your fingers together as your head falls back in pleasure.

She slowly picks up the pace and when there’s a steady rhythm, she pins your hand over your head and kisses you deeply.

“I wanna ride you,” you breathe against her lips.

“What?”

“I said…” you wrap your legs around her waist and flip you both over. “I wanna ride you.”

Agatha sits up and wraps her arms around your waist, hands sprawling on your back and hip as you grind down on the strap. Your head is thrown back in pleasure and your arms are around her shoulders when her lips attach to your neck, biting and sucking bruises into the soft flesh.

“Oh, God–Agatha!”

Her hand comes up to replace her lips, squeezing lightly as she kisses you hard. “You’re doing so well, baby,” she mutters against you.

Your hips move faster when she makes eye contact with you, taking her fingers and spitting on them before going down to rub your clit.

A gasp that borders on a yelp is pulled from your throat and you tighten your arms around her shoulders.

“Look at me.” Her voice is stern, but the only thing you can focus on is how good it feels. You feel her hand grasp your face, squeezing your cheeks hard enough to pull your head down. “Look at me, now.”

When you open your eyes you’re met with hers, and the softness that blanketed them when you were in her arms just before this was far gone.

“Are you gonna cum?” Agatha asks, pouting as you nod your head. “Yeah?”

“Yes!”

She flips you over immediately, landing you on your back. With your arms tight around her neck as she holds you close, her pace picks up quickly.

Your head drops back to the pillow and Agatha kisses you hard, breathing in time with you. You hand grips the pillow beneath you and your other goes to her shoulder. You can barely get words out, each one blending in with moans and whines and gasping breaths.

“Agatha–I’m–Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Your legs go tight around her waist while your back arches and jaw drops in a silent scream. You cling to Agatha’s back, shaking against her and gasping as she fucks you through the aftershocks.

You’re both panting as you recover. Agatha sits up and unbuckles the strap, tossing it on the floor before she lays back down beside you. She gathers you in her arms and kisses you softly, “Are you okay?”

“More than okay,” you huff.

Kisses are exchanged–slow, soft kisses, heated, messy kisses. It feels like it’s gone in the blink of an eye, but the clock on the nightstand shows it’s been at least fifteen minutes. You pull away and rest your head on the pillow, looking up and smiling softly at Agatha as she lays beside you.

“How long ago was it?” you ask. “When did you start…liking me?”

Agatha hums, smiling softly and looking over your face. “Well, it took some time. You’re a hard pill to swallow, you know,” she jokes.”But…you were the only member of the coven to ask me if I was okay after my trial. But then I felt too old for you and ignored the feeling. ” She leans down and kisses you again, “And what about you, hm? When did this little schoolgirl crush happen?”

You chuckle, “You’re not too old for me, and I honestly can’t pinpoint it. I just remember you walking into the restaurant I worked at and praying that you would be sat in my section.”

“Well, I specifically told the host that I wanted your section,” Agatha says. “The host told us it was gonna be a ten minute wait and I almost just left.”

“A whole ten minutes!” you gasp dramatically.

“In my defense,” she says, “I had the Salem Seven after me.”

It goes quiet for a brief moment as you search her eyes, smiling softly. “And what about now?” you ask. “Would you wait those ten excruciating minutes again?”

“I would,” Agatha says softly. She brushes a strand of hair out of your face and sighs. “If it meant being with you, I would wait as many minutes as it took.”

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness smut #kathryn hahn

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bludragongal · 18 hours ago

Note

Hi Meg! I've been a fan of your work since the Cheeko days on DA. I seem to recall a post a few months ago saying that you underwent a significant change in your life and your beliefs. Ever since, I've been curious -- are the changes in your beliefs and philosophy going to be reflected in the future chapters of DotL? Or are the "main beats" of DotL staying the same? Like, "Three Who Is One" or "Main character works through PTSD" and that kind of stuff?

Heyo!

Thank you so much for asking this question. I've had it open in a tab for like 9 days, not because I am struggling to come up with an answer, but because there's a lot I want to say about it!

I'll put the actual answer beneath the cut because it does reference some heavy stuff currently happening and I want to be considerate to those who are struggling and trying to take care of themselves during this time.

TLDR: Very little that has already been shown in the story is changing! It's still about mental health, working through and healing from PTSD, and found family. The deeper worldbuilding, themes, and lore are what's changing! I hope you enjoy where it goes now. :)

Basically, Christianity was/is a huge part of my self identity and I give it a lot of credit helping me survive a neglectful and lonely childhood. However, due to life changes, finally getting to therapy, learning what kind of help I really need, coming to accept that I am worthy of that help, recognizing and unlearning the harmful conditioning present within the organization, and seeing how the faith has been further twisted and used as a weapon to fuel the rise of Christo-Facism in the United States... the story's themes as they were originally conceived are both dishonest to the current state of the world, the people who are reading it, and to myself as I currently am and who I've become.

The world lore and answers to the larger mystery in the story have been rewritten to reflect these things. I hope I can still honor and show what it was about Christianity that helped me, what I am thankful for in it, while also doing right by the way it's been used to harm others in the past. If you are currently religious yourself and reading this, look for ways to stand between the people your faith is being weaponized against, and the weapon itself. This is not what Christ wanted. This is not what I want. Not any more.

DotL's core theme, ultimately, has been empathy and love. This theme remains unchanged.

Thank you for your question. <3

#dotl #i was a bigot #my readers deprogrammed me #thank you

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 3 days ago

Text

Shoto's First Kiss Chapter 9 Update

Okay so Shoto's First Kiss Chapter 9 is almosttttt done! I've just about finished writing it out but it's gonna need hella edits, so expect it to drop next weekend or Valentine's day weekend? Thanks for your patience here all! It will be a 40-50 page chapter. There's a lot to cover!!!

Posting a snippet of Chapter 9 below as a holdover - the plot is ofc subject to change! But want you to enjoy a lil dramaaaa while you wait! :)

“Well…” Toru says nervously into the phone.

“What?” Hitoshi says blankly, turning to you for an explanation about your friend’s uneasiness with that piece of the plan.

“So. Um. Mineta didn’t volunteer to be our distraction out of the kindness of his heart.” You say awkwardly as Hitoshi’s tired eyes bore into your own. “We promised him that he’d get to kiss me in exchange for his services as bait for Mr. Vlad.”

“Damn. Offering sexual favors in exchange for services rendered? You guys are way more hardcore than I thought.” Hitoshi actually looks impressed. “So hopefully Mineta didn’t say anything about that fun little bargain to Mr. King after he got caught. Sexual Quid Pro Quo is definitely grounds for some kind of legal action or punishment.”

The blood in your veins goes cold. Shit.

“But it was his idea!” Mina shrieks through the phone’s tiny speakers. You wince at the sound. You feel shaky like you might start crying again.

“Yeah but you all agreed to it. And Mineta held up his end of the bargain. This could be really bad if the school found out about it.”

Neito mouths something angrily on the screen and the corner of Hitoshi’s mouth quirks upwards fondly.

“Neito…you’re on mute, babe.” He says in that gravely voice of his.

Monoma quickly unmutes himself and repeats what he was saying:

“But it’s only a kiss! It’s not like we promised Y/N would sleep with him or anything!” He says, gesturing wildly. His face is a bit pink in response to Hitoshi’s using such an unexpected term of endearment.

“It doesn’t matter…you still made a trade of a physical favor for a service. I don’t know what kind of punishment they’d slap you with, but this sort of thing would definitely rub the UA administration the wrong way if they found out about it. Let’s just hope Mineta didn’t say anything too incriminating. I can stop by his dorm and ask him before I got to bed, if you’d like.” Hitoshi smirks. “I think he’s afraid of me, so I’d probably be the best person to do it.”

“Could you, please?” You say in a strained voice. Hitoshi looks over and sees how pale you’ve gone, he awkwardly pats your shoulder in what he must think is a reassuring way.

“Yeah, for sure. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.” He retracts his hand from your shoulder and gives you a thumbs up.

“Alright. I think we’ve mostly got our story straight. Don’t mention the alcohol. Don’t mention me needing to kiss Mineta. Don’t mention Hatsume. Don’t mention Spin The Bottle. Say we wanted to throw a game night to promote unity and bonding between Classes A and B. We good?” You quickly recap, counting off your fingers as you make each statement. “Dang, that’s a lot to keep track of.”

Everyone nods to confirm that they’re aligned (Toru doesn’t say anything to indicate that she’s not aligned, so you assume she’s invisibly nodding).

A message appears at the top of your phone screen from Shoto, a tiny preview of his text reads out in a bubble:

Shoto: You doing alright?

You quickly move to swipe the bubble away, hyperaware that Hitoshi can see any message that flashes across your screen. You quickly remind yourself that it’s not weird for your classmates to check up on you - you’re one of the party ringmasters, after all! And the message Shoto had sent was completely innocent, so…

Another message from Shoto scrolls across the screen as Toru rattles off a list of questions for Hitoshi to ask Mineta. You try to swipe the message away but you accidentally pull up the text screen over your friend’s FaceTime faces.

Shoto: This sounds awful to say, but getting to sneak away with you to the janitor’s closet almost makes getting caught worth it.

You swipe desperately to get the text screen to disappear and after a moment succeed. Toru is still speaking, saying something about Hatsume’s drones. You throw a terrified glance at Hitoshi’s direction. He’s looking at you, violet eyes wide with shock. His eyebrows are comically far up his forehead.

Oh yeah, he definitely just got a glance at Shoto’s text.

Oh God. Now he knows.

“Alright, Hagakure.” Hitoshi quickly turns back to the screen and nods in agreement at whatever your friend is saying. His facial expression instantly falls back to neutral –his eyebrows relaxing and his eyes narrowing back to their usual lazy squint. You stare straight ahead and try to keep all of your blood from rushing to your face. You feel hot all over but in a bad way. You don’t know Hitoshi super well, but you know he’s a good person. He wouldn’t spill your biggest secret to the world, right?

Hitoshi seemingly ignores you as he continues talking into the FaceTime. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Alright, I’ll ask him all of that. I think we’re all on the same page – get a good night’s sleep everyone.”

Good nights are exchanged, and one by one your friends drop off the call. Hitoshi clicks off your phone so that the screen goes back. He slowly turns to you, his expression still uncharacteristically surprised.

His voice is as even and measured as ever when he says:

“Holy shit, Y/N. How long have you been fucking Shoto Todoroki?”

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

HAHAHAHAA Okay so yeah that's part of Chapter 9! I'll keep plugging away and hopefully will have it your way soon! For now, here's the rest of the series to catch up on <3

Shoto's First Kiss Series so far:

Part 1: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Part 2: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 3: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 3

Part 4: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 4

Part 5: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 5

Part 6: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 6

Part 7: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 7

Part 8: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 8

XOXO,

Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

P.S. Here's the link to my 🔥Master List! 🔥 I just posted a new story feat. a super hot and mushy Touya Todoroki if you're into that sort of thing: Touya Todoroki: Sexy Uber Driver!? | Touya x Reader AU Imagine 🌶 💕

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fayes-fics · 20 hours ago

Text

The Wonderful Unexpected: Chapter 1

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU (future chapters)

Chapter Summary: it’s Christmas, but it’s beginning to look a lot like a shitshow…

artwork by me

Warnings: None really... swearing and non-graphic character attack and injury.

Word Count: 1.9k

Author's Note: Welcome to Chapter 1 of my next multi-chapter! A modern rom-com based on While You Were Sleeping. This is really just getting the wheels in motion, where she encounters Anthony. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis. Thank you to @colettebronte for beta reading. Please enjoy! <3

The first time you see him, your heart almost stops.

It is a Monday morning, your first shift in your new job at a coffee shop on a dreary day in late October, when he sweeps in, a blur of athletic movement in a sharply tailored suit.

Your boss, the store manager, Gen, starts to make his drink, double espresso, without him even having to say a word. And seemingly, just like that, he is gone again, you standing there, stupefied, awkwardly clutching the milk-frothing pitcher.

And thus, it begins.

Every weekday between 8:01 and 8:15, Prince Charming glides in, grabs his cup and is gone—a beautiful mirage with amazing cheekbones and a watch that costs more than your annual rent. It's like your world goes into slow motion, and, to steal a phrase from your dearly departed Dad’s favourite song, birds suddenly appear every time he is near.

Anyway, one random, soggy Thursday, the fates intervene, and it's your turn to serve him. As soon as you see him striding purposely towards the shop, you start his drink, butterflies in your stomach. The smile he bestows upon you is dazzling… even if his attention is slightly diverted by the call he is on.

Sparks shoot up your arm and into your chest as your fingers brush his briefly as you hand over the small cup.

Surely, this is meant to be?

He is perfect. Your husband (he just doesn't realise it yet).

All you need is a way to introduce yourself…

—

It's the end of your shift three days before Christmas when Gen sidles up to you, an odd expression on her face.

“I’d like to recommend you for Employee of the Month.”

“Didn't know there was one,” you shrug, having no idea what that could mean. You suspect not a great deal. Barista is no one’s chosen career. This is very much what you hope is a pit stop on your way to better things. A way to pay the rent until you get your big break. Or get to go travelling.

“Oh yes, well, it's been a few weeks now, and really, you’re my best employee. You are never late, always reliable, never get an order wrong, and are friendly to all the customers…” She trails off, looking very sheepish. “And if you are willing to work Christmas Day… ”

“Christmas Day!? Why are we even open on Christmas Day anyway? It’ll be dead, even around here,” you frown, putting down the cloth you were wiping the counter with.

“Owner policy,” she shrugs. “It's only for four hours in the morning - 7 til 11. If you do, it’s quadruple pay...” she lilts, attempting to make it sound appealing.

You squirm uncomfortably, not wanting to let her down but also really not wanting to work on that day. You were looking forward to a duvet and Netflix day with the second most handsome creature in the world (and definitely the most loyal), Chairman Meow.

“Look,” Gen petitions softly. “Prue still has bronchitis. Edie can't switch because she's got some big trip to see her cousins, and l promised my kiddos that I'd be there for them this year… l know it isn't fair, and I can't force you to do it... but you mentioned you are single and your parents are gone. You're the only one…” she trails off, looking awkward.

“...Without family…” you supply glumly, already knowing you will capitulate. At least quadruple pay will come in handy.

—

You are struggling to haul your Aunt Hilda’s Christmas ‘gift’ - a frighteningly enormous box you can tell is choked full of ugly breakables - up the stairs after a long shift when he materialises as he always seems to, just when it is most inconvenient.

Not your prince. No. Sadly not.

Albion “Alby” Finch.

Yep, quite the name. Not one anyone could live up to. But perhaps particularly not him. The well-meaning owner of the building who lives in the ground floor flat. Still adjusting to his status as a landlord since his father passed last year, he is boundlessly friendly in that untrained puppy way. Always wanting to help but always somehow ending up more of a hindrance than anything.

“Oh y/n, that looks tricky; allow me!”

He pushes his glasses up his nose with a pointer finger, then immediately lunges forward and grabs the other side of the heavy box without asking first.

“No, wait….!”

But it's too late.

You had the box precariously balanced, holding it strategically over the poorly taped seams. But his sudden interference has disturbed the contents. You watch as he realises he was wholly unprepared for its weight; his face fleetingly takes on a look of respect that you were handling such a burden.

Time slows like molasses as it slips from his grip, a horrible crunching sound as it hits the step, losing much of its structural integrity in the impact. Then, a calamitous symphony as it tumbles almost poetically down the whole flight, picking up speed as it goes. Yet again, the world is in slo-mo, but not in a good way this time, watching its barrelling path with increasing dread. Both of you wince as the inevitable happens: the spindly legs of the Alby’s heirloom table in the hallway snapping under the duress of poorly packaged terminal velocity porcelain.

“I'm so, so sorry!” he starts, flustering like a bird. “It’s all my fault; I’ll pay for it,” he assures.

“Alby…” you sigh, head slumping back in resignation, staring at the ceiling. You can't be too mad; he has sort of done you a favour, saving you the inevitable trip to the charity shop.

“What can I do to make amends?” He presses on. “May I take you to dinner?”

You are almost shocked that he has finally summoned the courage to ask you out after two years. When you tilt your chin back down, you see the panic rising on his face as he belatedly realises what he did.

“You are my landlord. Probably not a good idea,” you return diplomatically, trying to let him down easily. He is a nice man, and his admiration for cheese is to be respected, but you know you could never see him as anything but a sweet, slightly clueless friend.

“Right-e-o,” he nods, cheeks reddened. “Of course. So rude. Please forgive me.”

You wave a dismissive hand, staring down at the pile of destruction below, dreading the thought of cleaning up.

“I’ll deal with all that up,” Alby gestures, tracking your line of sight.

And for once, rather than help as you inevitably always do, you agree, your feet throbbing after a long day where it seemed every teenager in zone 1 needed a matcha oat latte.

So, as you tumble into your flat, you sigh in relief, flinging off your shoes and pouring a glass of water for yourself and a saucer of cat milk. You may not have your Prince Charming (yet…?), but you have Chairman Meow, who always makes a genuinely excellent fluffy pillow for your favourite brainless binge-watch.

—

It’s as if there is lead in your socks as you shuffle down the pavement and roll up the shutters.

Christmas Day. 6:54am.

Still an hour until sunrise, it's misty and rainy, but then that's typical London, really.

What isn't typical London is the deserted streets. Hardly a soul to be seen, only the very occasional car. Most people are tucked up in bed or, if they are parents, blearily watching their kids tear wrapping paper asunder in pursuit of loud plastic.

When an hour has already passed without a single customer, you are entering a new level of boredom. Inventing new lyrics for the Christmas music playing, balancing stirring sticks into a pagoda-like structure of impressive resilience (it can hold a cup!), cursing the owner who even thought it was a good idea to be open today. It's all a recipe for a sort of irksome ennui.

So when you hear a commotion outside, you almost fall off the stool you have been idly twirling on. Springing from your perch, you run to the glass window, keen for any distraction.

But the sight that greets you has your heart in your throat.

There, in the street, surrounded by a gang of kids in oversized hoodies, is your man. Prince Charming. They are tussling with him, and you realise they are likely trying to mug him of his expensive watch.

You observe helplessly, too scared to confront them, worried that doing so might exacerbate the situation. As you fumble in your apron pocket for your phone, the kids disperse, and to your horror, you see your man lying in the road, worryingly still.

Before you are even conscious of it, instead of dialling 999, you are flinging open the shop door and sprinting towards him.

“Sir! Sir!”

Skidding to a halt and hovering over him, you can see an ugly bruise forming on his left temple already. They must have knocked him out.

“Sir! Please wake up!!”

But there is no response.

You fall to your knees next to him, tapping his cheek lightly with the back of your hand, a sense of dread filling you with every passing millisecond.

Cmon universe! You can't do this! Why can't you take out the ugly ones?! Kidding... Sort of.

As your completely inappropriate internal monologue rages, you grab his shoulders and shake him gently, needing him to get up. Get out of the road, at least.

“Sir! Please! You are lying in the road! Please get up!”

You know it's Christmas Day, so traffic is thankfully light. However, if a bus comes around this blind corner, it will hit you both before it sees you.

Again, nothing from him.

You bend down to place your ear next to his nose and mouth, heart pounding, to see if you can hear breathing, at least.

“Fuck, you smell so good!”

It's out of your mouth before you can censor it, not that anyone is within earshot, this unconscious beauty aside. Your nostrils are filled with expensive, no doubt custom-blended aftershave, which literally makes your mouth water. You have to tamp the sudden urge to bury your face into his neck and inhale deeply.

But then you hear the hiss of air brakes and know a large vehicle is approaching—it could be a bus, could be a lorry. Either way, you are not exactly going to stay here to find out.

Without knowing quite what possesses you, you limpet yourself around his prone body and literally log-roll him out of the road. A blur of frantic tumbling movement that only ceases when your knees encounter the rough stipples of the pedestrian crossing section of the pavement. Shocking even yourself with the strength you are able to muster.

It's incredible what reserves of power you can summon when Prince Charming’s life is on the line, apparently.

As you lay straddled awkwardly on top of him, a street-sweeping lorry barrels around the corner, right over where he was lying. Sweeping up what you suspect was his mobile phone in the process before you could even grab it for him.

Heart racing at the closeness of the call, you collapse on top of him, breathing hard. Trying desperately to ignore the stirring of your traitorous libido at the sensation of muscular thighs clenched between your own.

His eyes flutter open, and you murmur a breathless “hi,” almost losing yourself in their depthless, warm beauty. That is before they roll backwards, and his head slumps to the left.

Just great.

As Michael Buble might sing at this particular moment… ♫ It's beginning to look a lot like a shitshow. ♫

Taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @ferns-fics @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23

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fangdokja · 2 days ago

Note

Paternal privilege is saur good!! Thank you so much for creating a banger fic 🫂

Aw, thank you for the compliment. And personal inbox message huh? I appreciate it. I am curious though about what you liked most about it. But it’s up to you if you want to tell me. Force of habit on being a curious person for knowledge and analysis.

For me, I also enjoyed it because of how I created the ending haha. Regardless, thank you for taking the time to read my novella and also sending such a wholesome message. I also hope you enjoy the rest of the horror library here. :))

For those who want to see the story, the chapters are listed below. If you like heavily manipulative yanderes, then feel free to check it out.

Yandere! Stepfather & Stepdaughter

Novella 1 : Paternal Privilege

He’s your family, but he doesn’t act like it.

🔞Pleasure in every strike, pain in every kiss.

🔞In the end, love is both their salvation and their damnation.

🔞His love is suffocating, but she’s forgotten how to breathe without it.

🔞Love shouldn’t feel like drowning, but he’s the only one who can save her.

She fell, but not by accident. He made sure of it.

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servamparchive · 3 days ago

Text

ARCHIVE UPDATE: Volume 24 Drama CD, Mahiru and Kuro at the Dinner Table

Access it here.

Hi there! This is my first post on this account. Servamp is a favorite series of mine and since it ended, I've noticed a lot of content that I once was able to enjoy has either disappeared or went private.

I wanted to change that! And thus this blog was born. Please check out my rules before interacting with the things I post. Thank you in advance!

That being said, this drama CD... omg I'm emotionally compromised. Notes below.

THEY VOICED CHAPTERS 97 AND 128 AHHHHHHHH HAD ME BAWLING LIKE A BABY

Terashii and Kaji-san... they're so amazing... I hope one day I can see these scenes animated with their voice acting too ;v;

The second track starts out with Lawless waking Kuro up and the two of them talking like their Eves are dead... until Mahiru comes home and tells them both to cut it out lol. Turns out he was just on a trip with Misono and Sakuya, the former having come home with him. Lawless and Kuro are spoiled with manjuu while Mahiru asks why they were talking like that cause it's not like Licht is dead either, lol

"No matter where neko-san is, I'll be there. That's because I'm an angel" Thanks Licht for the introduction lol. He also helps himself to some manjuu and it's safe to say from his chuuni ramblings he likes it

Lawless wants to go to the onsen with Niccolo and Ildio ;v; cute

They kinda yap about the cast's regular lives for a bit. It's nice. Feels domestic. Feels like it really is over and they all can live happily ;v;

I don't wanna yap too long but there's lots of silly shenanigans in here. That being said, one of my favorite things!! Y'ALL KURO IS LEARNING HOW TO COOK AND HE'S APPARENTLY GETTING PRETTY GOOD AT IT!!!!!

He makes everyone pancakes. Lawless and Misono freak out at the sight of Kuro putting on an apron and cooking, Lawless even mentions he's becoming a "proper ikemen" LOL. Mahiru is very supportive of him.

The LawLicht after they eat is very good... Licht even tells Lawless, "As an angel -- that isn't enough, huh. Then as your friend." My heart might've melted there alone. You also get voice acting from the chapter 127 scene where Licht thanks Lawless and says he'll stick with him... these two AAAAAAA

The CD ends on Mahiru and Kuro trying to decide on dinner, and Kuro says "From here on out, dinner isn't just Mahiru's duty -- thinking simply, it's ours!" These two (PART 2) AGHHHH I love them...

That's about all I have to yap about here personally, but feel free to make proper translations if you're better at Japanese than me LOL. Thanks for reading the yap session~

(Note... it's only now I found out its already been translated... ssg me)

#servamp #mahiru shirota #kuro servamp #misono alicein #licht jekylland todoroki #lawless servamp #servamp archive update

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keeryhours · 13 hours ago

Text

real love, baby - chapter three

Billy Hargrove x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Billy Hargrove Masterlist

Summary:

You have your appointment to see the baby for the first time

Warnings:

Pregnancy, shitty parents, bullying

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N:

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter! and thank you @punkrockmlchael and @the-witty-pen-name for all your help with this one 😩🙏🏻

8 weeks pregnant

Baby is the size of a raspberry

“Can you see a difference?”

You stood in front of your mirror, shirt held up under your chest to reveal your stomach. Eddie lounged back on your bed, watching you.

“I still don’t see anything,” Eddie said. “You sure there’s something in there?”

“We’ll know for sure tomorrow,” you reminded him. Your heart sped up in your chest at the thought of your first ultrasound, the thought of seeing your baby for the first time. Eddie would be taking you so you didn’t have to go alone.

“Are you excited?”

“Super excited,” you smiled. You rubbed your hand over your stomach, still nothing there. “I’m a little excited to have a bump, but also dreading it.”

“There’s no hiding from it then,” he said, hanging upside down off the side of your bed. His curls brushed against the carpet. “You ready for that?”

“No,” you admitted. “I mean, everyone at school already knows. But I’m not prepared to tell my parents.”

“I don’t blame you. That’s not going to go well.”

“Thanks,” you said sarcastically. You pulled your shirt back down, flopping down on the bed next to Eddie. “But I know. They’re going to kill me.”

“That’s probably putting it lightly,” Eddie said, sitting up to look at you. “They’re going to freak.”

“That’s why I’m waiting as long as possible to tell them.” You leaned against the headboard, feet stuck in Eddie’s lap. “Good plan or bad plan?”

“Totally foolproof, nothing can go wrong,” Eddie said. He gave you a teasing smile- you and he both knew telling your parents at any point would be a disaster, but you also knew Eddie would be there for you no matter what. “Have you talked to Billy anymore?”

“Not since 2 weeks ago when he cornered me about the abortion,” you sighed. It felt like all you did anymore was think about Billy. “He’s back to pretending I don’t exist.

“That’s so fucked,” Eddie said. He rubbed your bare legs that lay splayed across his lap. “I’m sorry. I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised, but still. He’s an ass.”

“No, I know,” you said, sinking down the bed until you were laying on your pillows. You pulled one over and hugged it across your chest. “I walked right into this one.”

“A little bit.”

You kicked Eddie, making him laugh. “You’re always so supportive and helpful and not at all judgmental, Ed.”

“Hey, I try to be,” Eddie said, laughing. At least you could laugh about it.

The next day after school, you rushed out of the building quickly. Your appointment was 30 minutes after school ended and you did not want to be late. You found Eddie waiting by the van already, keys in hand and ready to go.

“You ready, mama?” He asked as you both climbed into the van, and you gave him a look.

“Yes, I’m ready,” you said, taking a deep breath. The truth was, you were horribly nervous. You felt like you could be sick, and it was hard to breathe deeply.

“You’re going to be okay, you know that?” Eddie said, reaching over to grasp your hand with his right one. He drove the van one handed, the short drive to the doctor’s office feeling like a million years.

“I know,” you said, giving Eddie a weak smile although you didn’t quite believe yourself.

He pulled into the parking lot of the office, killing the engine of the van and turning to you. “Do you want me to go back with you?”

“Would you?” You looked at him hopefully, not wanting to go alone. You wouldn’t blame him if he felt weird about it and didn’t want to go, but you hated the idea of doing any of this pregnancy alone.

“Of course I will,” he said, squeezing your hand. “C’mon, let’s go. I got you.”

The waiting room of this doctor’s office was more cheerful than the last one. The walls were painted a bright yellow color, and there were photos of babies decorating the walls. A TV hung on one side of the room, playing a rerun of Three’s Company.

When the nurse called your name, Eddie followed you to the back. She smiled politely at you, holding the clipboard against her blue scrubs and leading you back to the exam room.

“You can change into this gown and take a seat on the exam table,” she said. “Dad, you can take one of the chairs over there.”

“Oh, I’m not-“ Eddie started to correct her, but the nurse wasn’t listening, already moving on to grabbing the blood pressure cuff.

Eddie didn’t entirely mind playing dad for the day. It was no different than the times you’d lied to his extended family that you were dating, right? He knew he wasn’t the father, but it was interesting to see what it would feel like.

The nurse went through the usual things - blood pressure, temperature, weight. She left the room when she was done, leaving you and Eddie alone in the room.

“Eddie, cut that out!” You hissed as Eddie looked through the cabinets and drawers.

“What? They wouldn’t just leave it here if they didn’t want us to take it,” Eddie said, pocketing a handful of band aids.

A few minutes later the tech walked in, greeting you both before sitting in front of the ultrasound machine. Eddie moved his chair closer to you as she put the gel on your stomach and began the examination, the screen turned away from you.

“Is…everything okay?” Eddie asked nervously, speaking the words you were too afraid to say yourself.

“Everything looks good,” she said with a kind smile. She turned the screen, and there was…a little bean shaped thing. “This is your baby. You’re measuring exactly 8 weeks.”

Your eyes went wide, taking in the sight of the little wiggling baby. It didn’t look anything like a baby yet, but you still felt unimaginably connected to it. It was a bizarre feeling. That was your baby.

“At least it’s not twins,” Eddie joked, but you were barely listening.

In that moment you felt an acute awareness of Billy’s absence. Despite the fact that Billy hadn’t had anything to do with this pregnancy and had even insisted on an abortion, you hadn’t thought much about what he was missing out on. But this? You couldn’t help but picture the blonde beside you in Eddie’s place, getting that first glimpse of his child. How he’d place his hand on your belly to feel, or maybe even talk to the baby through your belly, play them his favorite music. Every time this happened, you pictured Billy as a good father.

But he wasn’t here.

The tech clicked something on the machine, and a rhythmic whooshing sound filled the room. “That’s the heartbeat,” she said. “A strong one!”

That filled you with pride- your baby was strong. It felt good to hear. You had been worried that things weren’t going well, one of the reasons you’d been dreading this appointment so badly. You didn’t know what you would do if something happened to the baby at this point.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Eddie asked.

The tech didn’t make him feel stupid for the question. “It’s still too early to tell. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a girl,” Eddie said confidently. “I just have a feeling.”

“I think it could be a boy,” you said, but you really didn’t know or mind either way. You could picture yourself with a son or a daughter. Billy would-

And there you go daydreaming again.

“Would you like some prints?” The tech asked as she wrapped up the exam, wiping the gel off your stomach. You nodded quickly - these were the first ever photos of your baby. You would have to hide them, but you wanted them. She gave you multiple copies, in case you wanted to share.

You walked out of the office feeling better than you had coming in, ultrasound photos gripped in your hand. There was no hiding from it now - there was a baby, alive and growing in your belly. Eddie kept one of the photos, claiming he was entitled to one as the godfather, a title he had awarded himself.

You were grateful for him, he had been an amazing friend to you before and during this. You had worried that he’d want nothing to do with it, that he’d be mad at you for getting yourself into this position to begin with. But he hadn’t given you any kind of judgement, only support.

If only you and Eddie loved each other as more than friends, if the rumors around school about you had been true, things might be simpler.

Theoretically, Eddie was the perfect guy for you. Best friends who never got tired of each other, same interests, attracted to each other. But you couldn’t help who you were and weren’t in love with, and you just didn’t feel that type of way about Eddie.

Yet here he was, willing to be judged alongside you without saying a single word about the truth. He was just willing to let the whole school call him names and think that he is the father of this baby, willing to walk beside you in front of the judgemental people of Hawkins. Ready to face your parents, who already hated him, when the time came just so you didn’t have to tell them the father wouldn’t be in the picture.

You didn’t understand it. But that was just Eddie.

The next day at school, you passed Billy a note in 2nd period.

“Can we talk?”

You watched as he opened the note, eyes darting up to you as he gave you an unreadable expression before folding the note back up. You weren’t sure what kind of answer that was.

After class he nodded at you to follow him into the empty science classroom, and you obeyed. Things always were on Billy’s terms.

“What?” He hissed once safely inside the locked classroom. He leaned against one of the tables. “Did you change your mind?”

“No, Billy, I didn’t change my mind.”

“Then why are you talking to me?” He asked simply.

His words stung deeply, but you didn’t dwell on them for long. “I had my first appointment yesterday. I thought you might want to know.”

You didn’t know how he was going to respond to that. Billy was always so unpredictable. He looked at you, his eyes roaming your figure. “Is it…was…everything okay?”

That was better than him blowing up. “They said everything was looking great. I’m 8 weeks and they have a strong heartbeat.”

Billy huffs something like a small laugh. Like yeah, it’s my baby, of course they’re strong. “Well that’s….good.”

You smiled softly. “Do you…want to see a picture?”

“They gave you pictures?” He asked with his brows raised. “I’ve never even seen a baby that small.”

You laughed - “It looks more like a little bean right now, but-“ you dug through your bag until you pulled out one of the prints, handing it over to Billy.

Billy took the photo from your fingers gingerly, like he was afraid he’d break something. He held it up to his face with a slight tremble in his hands, seeing the digital text on the photo - Hi mom and dad! - with an arrow pointing to the small blob.

“That’s really it?” He asked, his voice almost incredulous. “That’s the baby?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “Pretty crazy, right?”

Billy just stared at the photo. Eventually he looked up at you, his expression once again unreadable. “Can I keep this?”

“What?” The question caught you off guard.

“The picture? Can I keep it?” Billy repeated.

You did have multiple copies of the sonogram, but you were surprised he wanted one at all. “Yeah, sure,” you finally answered him, feeling like an ass for looking like you had to think about it for so long.

“How are you feeling with…everything?”

That question surprised you, too. “I’m okay. Still feeling sick and all the other usual symptoms. But nothing too bad.”

Billy nodded. It was quiet again. Then, “What do you think it’s gonna be?”

“I think it’s a boy,” you said, smiling softly. “But Eddie’s convinced it’s a girl.”

“Either way would be- wait, Eddie?”

You looked at him. “Yeah. Eddie thinks it’s a girl.”

“Did he…go to the appointment with you?” There was something swirling behind his blue eyes, something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Yeah,” you said. “I didn’t want to go alone.”

“Oh.”

There was another minute of silence between you, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think Billy was hurt. “You didn’t seem like you wanted to go,” you said finally.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t,” Billy said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes, taking one between his lips. “I’ve got to get back to class.” You watched as he turned in the complete opposite direction and walked out the back door, lighting the cigarette as he left.

Billy’s mind swirled with thoughts as he walked away - that was his baby. His baby. That everyone thought belonged to Eddie. It honestly pissed him off, but it was his own fault and he knew it. He could step out right now and say he was the father, but he wouldn’t do that. He was too much of a coward.

He thought of what his father would say. He couldn’t hide this forever, he knew. It would all come out eventually. Billy dragged on his cigarette as he thought of how Neil would react. And wouldn’t he deserve it? It was his fault you were pregnant and his fault you were doing it alone. Would his dad kick him out? What would happen to you? Would he be able to get a job and help take care of you and the baby?

He was getting ahead of himself again, thinking about the what if’s of letting himself get involved. He couldn’t do that. You and that kid were better off without him. It was bad enough he passed on his genes, but there was no escaping that one now.

But did he really want to be a deadbeat dad? The type of guy who he had no respect for, and now that’s exactly who he was shaping up to be. Is this what he wanted for himself? For his kid?

When he finished the cigarette, he tossed it to the side, then folded the photo carefully and stuck it in his wallet.

Back in class, Billy ignored you again. You almost thought you dreamed the whole encounter, but the missing sonogram in your bag proved it happened. Billy had really acted like he cared. That was totally unlike him.

When Carol and Tina started whispering and giggling at you, that seemed a bit more normal. You just didn’t know what was so interesting this time.

After class they waited for you, popping their bubblegum as they leaned against their desks. “Overheard your Freak boyfriend telling his friends you saw the baby yesterday. How cute,” Carol quipped.

You ignored them, trying to walk by just as Tommy and Billy came up behind them. “What’s going on?” Billy asked.

Carol and Tina looked up at them, malicious grins on their stupid faces. “I just heard the Freaks got to see their baby yesterday. I just wanted to congratulate her.”

Tommy snickered. “How sweet.”

Billy avoided your gaze. “Carol, just leave her alone. It’s not worth it, is it?”

Carol, Tina, and Tommy all gave him a confused look. Because when has he ever cared about making fun of you?

“I just mean,” Billy said, scrambling to recover, “she’s already pregnant in high school. That’s sad enough.”

His friends laughed, and by that point they were moving on to a different conversation. The girls turned and left, Tommy and Billy following behind. You wondered what Tina would think if she knew the truth about her crush.

Eddie dropped you off at home after school, and you were disappointed to see your parents home. You made sure the sonograms were buried deeply in your bag before you got out of the van.

“Are you gonna be alright?” Eddie asked, sensing your anxiety. “D’you want me to come in with you?”

“I think that might make things worse,” you attempted to joke, even though your words were true. Your parents hated Eddie.

“Call me if you need a getaway driver,” he called as you hopped out of the van, and you smiled at him. You caught sight of his copy of the ultrasound photo stuck in his sun visor.

You took a deep breath as you walked up the front steps of the house. As long as you didn’t set them off, this didn’t have to go poorly. You could get upstairs to your room and be left alone all evening.

Your hopes were dashed when you walked inside and your dad immediately called your name. You changed course and walked into the kitchen, finding both your parents standing their looking at you, your mother nursing a glass of wine while your dad held a scotch.

“Honey, your doctor called,” your mom began.

Your blood ran cold. You thought you would be sick on the spot. This could not be happening right now, you were not ready to tell them. But they seemed…oddly calm.

“Oh yeah?” You said, gauging the situation.

“They just said your prescription for Zofran was sent to the pharmacy. Have you been feeling sick?”

You let out a breath. “Oh, yeah, a little. They said it was probably just a stomach bug.”

Your father sipped his scotch. “You’re not going to use this as an excuse to skip school, right?”

“No, sir,” you said. You knew if you didn’t speak to him that way, it would be a whole other world of trouble.

“Good,” he said, “because you want to get into a good school, don’t you? We’ve discussed this.”

“Yes, sir,” you said. Your parents had always made their expectations clear. If you didn’t get into a school they deemed appropriate, they wouldn’t be supporting you any more.

“And I saw that van driving off,” your father added. “I thought we talked about not spending any more time with people like that.”

“People like what?” You asked, knowing better but your anger snapping uncontrollably. “Eddie’s my best friend.”

“The boy sells drugs,” your mother added. “He lives in a….”

“A trailer park?” You finished for her. “Is that what you were about to say?”

“He’s dragging you down,” your father’s voice boomed. “You are too good to be hanging out with his type. Why don’t you go out with the Harrington boy? Now that’s a nice kid, respectable parents-“

“Steve doesn’t even know I exist,” you scoff. “And his friends are dicks.”

“I’m just saying,” your father continued, “you need to keep better company before you’re knocked up and stuck with your choices.”

If only he’d known how cruel his words really were, how deeply they had struck. He would probably be pleased with himself. You turned and ran up the stairs, the tears in your eyes falling whether you wanted them to or not. In the safety of your room you jumped onto your bed, sobbing into your pillows.

What the fuck were you supposed to do?

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veephoenix · 3 days ago

Text

zutto — chapter sixteen | wc: 2.8k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary: Lia and Noah return to L.A. and Jolly surprises Noah with big news.

Reading time: 10mins.

Tags and trigger warnings: mostly fluff, mentions of Lia going back to therapy, 2 spankings.

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

The sky was clear when they landed in Los Angeles. Before leaving the airport, they stopped at a Starbucks in the arrivals area for coffee and a quick bite to make up for the cheap food on the plane. Afterward, they took a cab to Lia’s apartment.

For the time being, they had decided to stay at Noah’s place since he had his studio there and he was meant to start working asap. Lia was already used to living within those walls so it felt like the right thing for now.

Noah dropped her off at her apartment to unpack and start a load of laundry, agreeing to pick her up later. In the meantime, he would do the same at home.

When he walked through the door, Jolly greeted him from the kitchen, pausing what he was doing to give him a brotherly hug and a pat on the back.

Noah had barely set his luggage down when Emery appeared in the hallway, waving at him. She was wearing baggy sweatpants and one of Jolly’s hoodies, looking very much at home.

“Hi, Noah.”

“Hi, Em.” He gave her a quick hug.

“Good flight?” she asked, stepping back and noticing the slight dark circles under his eyes.

“As good as it gets. I think I’m really jet-lagged, though.”

“I’m making coffee,” Jolly announced, busying himself with the machine. “Want some?”

Noah had just had one about thirty minutes ago, but he replied, “Sure. Thanks.”

He removed his backpack and sneakers, sighing as his feet finally found relief.

“Where’s Lia?” Emery asked, glancing over her shoulder at Noah as she walked into the kitchen to help Jolly. She retrieved three mugs from one of the cabinets.

“Dropped her at her place,” he explained. They hadn’t been apart for more than fifteen minutes, and yet he was already missing the warmth and peace she brought him just by being around. “I’m picking her up later. She’ll be happy to see you.”

“Em’s been staying here,” Jolly said, stopping the coffee machine and picking up the kettle.

Noah raised his eyebrows and looked at Emery, who had now made herself comfortable on the couch, waiting for Jolly to bring the coffee. She gave Noah a gentle smile.

“Nice. How long are you planning to stay?”

“As long as Jolly doesn’t get tired of me,” she replied.

Jolly pointed at her while passing a coffee mug to Noah across the kitchen isle. “Which is never happening.”

Emery laughed, her cheeks turning pink. Their comfort with each other was so obvious that Noah felt suddenly stupidly jealous. He was tempted to check the time on his phone. He’d told Lia he’d pick her up whenever she texted him, which he hoped would be soon—just enough time for her to sort her things and take a shower. Had it only been fifteen minutes? Because it felt like she’d been away from his reach much longer.

Emery’s laughter blended with a sarcastic snort from the hallway. When Noah looked that way, he saw Jesse strolling in.

“I need to fall in love and get out of this house,” Jesse declared, running a hand through his hair. He nodded at Noah. “Welcome back, man.”

“Hey,” Noah said with a nod.

“Where’s Miss Gremlin?”

“At her place. She’ll be here later.”

“Great. Well, I’m heading to the gym, so I’ll catch up with you guys later. Oh, and if you are doing laundry, grab my stuff from the basket, yeah?”

Noah raised his eyebrows, following him with his gaze. Jesse bent down to grab his sneakers from the shoe rack. “I just got back, and you’re already assigning me chores?”

“Consider it a welcome-home gift,” Jesse grinned over his shoulder, tying his laces. “Hope you enjoyed your holiday.”

“I should’ve made it longer,” Noah replied, but there was no malice in his eyes. He picked up his luggage again as Jesse waved goodbye and left. Noah muttered “unbelievable” as he started towards his bedroom.

“I promise I’m not giving you guys any extra work,” Emery added from the living room, raising a hand. “I do my own laundry.”

“Beware of Jesse,” Jolly warned, dropping onto the couch beside her with the two mugs of coffee. “He’ll rope you in if you’re not careful.”

An hour and a half later—showered, dressed in clean clothes, with the washing machine running and his room semi-organized—Noah returned to the living room.

He inadvertently interrupted a tender moment in the kitchen, where Emery and Jolly were exchanging whispers between kisses and affectionate touches. Neither of them seemed fazed when Noah walked in; Emery simply gave Jolly a long kiss on the lips, rose on tiptoes, then turned and disappeared into his bedroom at the end of the hallway.

Noah raised his eyebrows at Jolly as he crossed to the fridge, intent on finding something to eat.

“Dude, I’m so in love,” Jolly blurted out, leaning on the kitchen counter, his eyes frozen on the dark hallway where his girlfriend had just vanished.

Noah snorted. “I can see that,” he said, pulling open the fridge and grabbing a yogurt.

“I’m going to marry her.”

Noah froze, the yogurt halfway out of the fridge.

He turned slowly. “What?”

Jolly turned to look at him and shrugged. “I’m ready to marry her.”

Noah blinked once. Twice. “But,” he furrowed his brow, closing the fridge and setting the yogurt on the counter. “Wait. Are you serious? You’ve been together for what, a few months? Half a year?”

Jolly crossed his arms, still leaning on the counter. “We’ve known each other for six years. It’s not about the time we’ve been officially dating.”

“Yeah, I get that, but—” Noah blinked again, momentarily lost. He grabbed a spoon from a drawer to buy himself a moment. “I mean… Okay. I do get it, but…” His head was spinning. “I just got back from the other side of the ocean. I expected dirty socks everywhere and an empty fridge—not a bombshell about you wanting to get married. You never said much about it. Doesn’t it feel sudden?”

“Not to me. Not anymore,” Jolly’s voice softened. “She’s the one, Noah.”

“Yeah, Lia’s the one for me, too, and yet—”

“And yet, what are you waiting for?”

“What?”

Jolly shook his head but steered the conversation back to himself. “These past few weeks have been perfect. We work so well together, man. She doesn’t mind my bad habits—I don’t mind hers. We can argue and talk things through. She makes me laugh like nobody else. And waking up and seeing her there beside me is something I can’t even explain. And the sex… Fuck, the sex is good, man.”

Noah looked at him closely, spoon hovering over the open yogurt. “So, you’re totally serious. You’re really thinking about this.”

Jolly spread the back of his hands on the marble, standing to his full height. “Why would I joke about it? I’m telling you because you’re my best friend, and I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I need your thoughts.”

Noah tilted his head slightly, taking a bite of his yogurt as he considered it. “Okay, so… have you talked to her about it? Like, does she even want to get married?”

“We’ve talked. She does. She even wants kids someday. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Noah shook his head, smiling despite himself. Could he picture Jolly as a husband? A father? No, but only because they’d been so caught up in the band, in working full time, that none of them had stopped for a second to consider wanting something more. Marriage. A family. It made sense, and honestly, Noah was sure Jolly would be great at both.

“Okay,” Noah said, his smile widening. He was suddenly infected by the same thrill coursing through Jolly. “Then it’s a yes from me. Go for it. When are you planning to propose?”

Jolly’s smile turned sheepish. “I don’t know. Haven’t gotten that far yet. We need to find a place first, a nice condo or a house. But I was thinking we could go check out rings next week, to get an idea about prices and stuff, and while we’re at it, maybe you could take a look too.”

Noah raised a slow, suspicious eyebrow at him.

Where is he going with this?

“Why would I want to take a look at engagement rings?”

“For whenever you grow a pair and pop the question to Lia.”

Noah stared at him.

Jolly pointed a finger at him and gave him a sideways look. “Don’t even dare tell me you’re not going to marry her because man, you’ve been breathing her as if she was your oxygen since you were kids. It’s just because you two were stubborn as fuck to admit you loved each other that you’re not married by now.”

“I—” Noah was exhausted, jet-lagged, hungry, and still reeling from Jolly’s sudden news about wanting to get married. And now, thanks to him, he was imagining Lia in a white dress and a flower crown on her head.

What the fuck.

“We haven’t talked about this, Lia and I.”

“Maybe it’s time you do. This is the perfect excuse.”

Noah stared at him for a long moment, torn between exasperation and amusement. As thoughts filled his mind, he realized he didn’t even know if Lia wanted to get married. “I came back expecting dirty clothes everywhere and no food in the fridge,” he muttered, “not life advice and a push toward marriage.”

Jolly laughed. “Well, now you’ve got both. Welcome home, man.”

When evening came, Lia and Emery curled up in the corner of the couch after dinner, talking animatedly, each holding a cup of tea, while the boys finished cleaning up the kitchen.

Somehow, Lia had mustered the energy to prepare one of the dishes Hana had taught her in Japan, and despite his exhaustion, Noah had offered to do the washing up afterward. Before picking her up, Lia had walked to the nearest supermarket to grab the missing ingredients. The moment she arrived at the boys’ house, she started cooking as if she hadn’t just spent the past twenty-four hours crossing the Pacific Ocean and trying to sleep in a cramped, uncomfortable airplane seat. Where she got the energy from, Noah couldn’t tell.

After the kitchen was cleaned up, the five of them settled on the couch and put on a new Adrien Brody movie. Jesse made popcorn and ended up eating most of it himself, ignoring Jolly and Noah’s comments about all his efforts at the gym going to waste.

Half an hour into the movie, Noah had already yawned three times. He was stretched out in the corner of the couch, legs extended on the sectional, with Lia nestled against him, his arm draped over her shoulders. Every now and then, she’d ask Jesse to pass the bowl of popcorn.

“I’m dozing off,” Noah murmured to Lia, rubbing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shall we go to bed?”

Lia pouted, her eyes wide open. No trace of sleep in her expression, unlike Noah’s.

“How are you not sleepy?” He asked, frowning as he sat up a bit on the sofa, removing his arm from her shoulders.

“Hmm…” Lia bit her lip and looked up at him, still nestled at his side with her legs curled under her body. “I may or may not have taken a nap at my place.”

Noah’s eyes widened despite the look of sweet innocence in her face.

“Without me?” he exclaimed.

“Dude, shut up,” Jolly told him off without looking away from the screen, where Adrien Brody’s character stood in the pouring rain, his face shadowed under his hat.

Lia parted her lips to say something in her defense, but she didn’t get the chance. Noah stood up, and towering over her, he scooped her up in his arms, lifting her bridal-style off the couch.

“Hey!” she protested. “Where are you taking me?”

“Bedroom. To sleep. Good night, guys.”

“Help?” Lia called over Noah’s shoulder, but despite her theatrics, she was smiling, nearly laughing, and she had to admit it felt nice to be carried to the bedroom.

“Sweet dreams, lovebirds!” Jesse said. Next to him, Jolly and Emery laughed, waved their hands and said goodnight.

Once in the bedroom, Noah kicked the door shut behind him. Then, without warning, he threw Lia onto the bed. She landed with a soft thud, her hair fanning out over the gray comforter.

“That was so romantic,” she deadpanned, stretching before rolling onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows. She watched Noah with a raised eyebrow as he pulled off his hoodie and tossed it onto the armchair where Lia liked to curl up and read.

“Yeah,” he muttered, still giving her that mock-offended look she knew was just an act. “Almost as romantic as my girlfriend taking a nap without me.”

He walked over to close the curtains, then switched on the lamp on his side of the bed.

“And dramatic,” she added.

He stopped and gave her a long look. Two seconds later, his open palm landed on her butt with a sharp slap.

Lia gasped, eyes going wide.

“Did you just spank me?”

“Should I do it again for clarification?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He grinned, and another smack followed, firm but playful. Even through her cotton leggings, a tingling sensation spread through her. She pressed her legs together, unable to look away from him, her cheeks warming.

He studied her reaction, enjoying this as much as she seemed to. He arched a brow at the realization. “You likethat, don’t you?”

Lia tilted her head to one side, lifting her feet off the bed and lazily crossing her ankles. “Maybe.”

He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head as he reached for one of her wrists, pulling her up. “Come on. Let’s brush our teeth. Then we’re sleeping, because I’m actually dead.”

“Hum,” Lia pouted, but got off the bed and followed him barefoot to the ensuite bathroom.

The moment they got under the covers, sleep was the last thing on their minds.

For the next half hour, they talked—about the next day, about Lia’s return to therapy, about how she planned to attend a yoga class beforehand. She had work to catch up on, so she’d spend most of the day at home, while Noah would head to the studio with the guys.

As they lay tangled up, Lia’s bare foot lazily brushing against his calf, she mentioned she was thinking about taking on more illustration jobs while the band focused on creating new music. It seemed like a good way to stay busy. She could focus on designs for new Bad Omens merch later.

“That’s a good idea,” Noah murmured, voice thick with exhaustion but still engaged. “You could also think about exhibiting your work.”

“In a gallery?”

“Yeah. Your art is sick. I’ll never get tired of saying it. You should put it out there more. Not just through the band’s merch. I told you before.”

The idea of her illustrations being displayed for people to admire—or worse, to judge—didn’t really sit right with her.

“I like being behind the work,” she said. “Just making things and putting them out there without having to… explain them. I don’t want to do artist talk or anything.”

Noah turned his head on the pillow to look at her. “Then don’t. You wouldn’t have to. Just exhibit the work and let it speak for itself. People will see what they want to see.”

“Yeah, and what if they see something that isn’t there? I’d want them to see what I see.”

“Art isn’t always about making people see your vision,” Noah said, thoughtful. “It’s about them feeling something. Doesn’t matter what. They don’t have to understand it. And you don’t have to explain it.”

Lia exhaled softly, letting the thought settle in the quiet between them. Maybe.

She rested her head against his shoulder after a while, pensive. Silence stretched between them as she mulled it over. “I don’t know. Maybe someday. I just like things the way they are right now. Making art without the pressure. Just… creating for myself first, you know?”

She paused, waiting for his response.

When she didn’t get one, she lifted her head slightly and looked up.

Noah’s breathing had deepened, his lips slightly parted, the steady rhythm of light snores filling the room.

“Of course you’re asleep,” she muttered. She lifted her head a little, watching him in the dark— the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way his eyelashes fanned against his cheek, the soft exhale of his breath.

Leaning in, she brushed her lips against his in a whisper of a kiss. “I love you,” she murmured before tucking herself back against him, letting sleep finally take her too.

— prev. chapter | chapter seventeen

Taglist:

@somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @thecoyotescry | @bluestdai | @lacy1986

@sweetwombatpizza | @missduffsblog | @shilohrosechicken | @jilliemiw86 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

@chey-h | @ferduttini | @dominuslunae | @todressabladeupinred | @tf-is-aesthetic

#noah sebastian x ofc #noah x lia #the inevitability of love at second sight #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfic

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cosmowgyral · 20 hours ago

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"The Vicious Wildcat is Clumsily Affectionate"

▪︎ Kagari's 1st Birthday

This is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

This is my very first time reading and translating a Kagari event and since he's not yet out in the EN servers, there might be terms that will be used differently when he's finally released.

Chapter 1

A while after coming to Kogyoku with the bookstore owner, I noticed that on a certain day, the town was bustling with more people than usual.

Emma: It’s Prince Kagari’s birthday?

Town woman: Yes, it has become a tradition for the whole town to celebrate.

Emma: That’s why it’s so lively.

(I didn’t know it was Prince Kagari’s birthday.)

The town’s residents seem to be in high spirits, and the aroma of dorayaki fills the air.

Town woman: You should wish Prince Kagari as well.

Town woman: I’m sure he’ll be delighted if his favourite lady celebrates with him.

A woman I had become acquainted with since coming to Kogyoku, gives me a shove with an innocent smile.

Town woman: Now if you say you’re having trouble deciding on a present, I’ll help you with it.

Emma: Thank you so much. But, I’d like to think of something to give on my own.

(I wonder what it is. I sense an odd pressure…or maybe it’s just my imagination.)

The woman left in a good mood with words of encouragement, suggesting she was satisfied with my response.

(Whether I’m his favourite or not….I’ve been helped by Prince Kagari many times since coming to Kogyoku.)

(Now that I know it’s his birthday, I have no other choice but to celebrate.)

(Alright…)

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤ𔘓 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

(….Wha-what’s with this huge line?!)

When I packed my bag with the present and headed to the castle, the square was crowded with people who had come to celebrate the yasha [1].

(From swordsmen to nobles…and even commoners, there really is an incredible number of people.)

At the end of the line, I catch a glimpse of a person with striking red hair.

Prince Kagari, standing at a distance, remained expressionless as he received a constant barrage of wishes and gifts.

(He is acting like it’s none of his business. He doesn’t seem to be enjoying this at all.)

As I stood on my toes to have a better look, a pair of emerald eyes greeted mine.

(….Prince Kagari is sensitive to gazes, so I wonder if he noticed.)

(I might have been a nuisance by watching too much.)

I turned away and took shelter under a nearby cherry tree.

(I wonder what I should do. With so many people waiting in the queue, it really is difficult to go and wish him.)

( I wanted to celebrate on his actual birthday, but I guess I’ll have to come back later----huh?)

When I casually looked back, I saw that Prince Kagari had disappeared.

Instead, an aide is standing in his place..and despite not being the yasha, people continue to offer him wishes and presents.

It was a strange sight.

???: You’re wide open, princess.

(!?)

As I turned to face the unexpected voice close to my ear, a hand closed across my mouth.

My back made contact with a tree trunk as I was pulled into the shade of trees.

Emma: Nnnn…!!

(Before I knew it, Prince Kagari had caught me from behind.)

He easily pushed me against the trunk even though I was struggling, and then he brought his face close to mine.

Kagari: Do you promise to behave?

I nodded vigorously and he finally took his hand off my mouth.

However, the distance between us remained the same, and Prince Kagari, with his hands on the trunk behind me, seized me.

(I need to calm down…)

(Maybe he’s sticking close to me so the others won’t find him.)

I instinctively lower my voice so that my breath doesn't touch him.

Emma: Why are you here, Prince Kagari?

Kagari: I saw you.

Emma: So you came to see me?

Kagari: I came because I thought you called.

(Maybe that’s how it looked to Prince Kagari.)

Even though I feel guilty, my heart was ticklish.

Kagari: If you plan to stand in the line, don’t.

Kagari: It will continue till midnight.

Emma: That long…

Kagari: At night, there's a party. It goes on through the entire night till the wee hours of the morning.

(It’s amazing that they celebrate whole day long. I don’t expect anything less for Kogyoku’s yasha.)

While I was impressed, Prince Kagari remained expressionless.

He looks at the long line like it has nothing to do with him, and his expression is so bleak that it’s hard to believe he is the one being celebrated.

Maybe Prince Kagari isn’t interested in celebrating his birthday.

(…What if he thinks of me as a bother as well?)

Kagari: So, why are you here?

I turned my face away from him.

Emma: Well….there was a huge crowd, so I…was just curious.

(I can’t admit I came to celebrate too.)

I hid the bag with his present behind me.

Prince Kagari paused for a moment.

Amidst the awkward silence, the noises of the crowd felt distant.

(I tried my best to hide it, but it might seem too obvious.)

However, Prince Kagari didn’t say anything and just grabbed my arm.

Kagari: Will you come with me, princess?

Emma: Eh…I..Prince Kagari?

Contrary to his request, I was almost forcefully taken inside the castle in secret….

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤ𔘓 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Prince Kagari threw me into a room and brought out a large basket from somewhere.

Kagari: Put this on first.

Emma: H..hakama [2]?

Kagari: Next, wrap this around your face.

Emma: A scarf?

Kagari: And finally, put this on your waist.

Emma: A sword..?!

Kagari: Now tie your hair in a ponytail.

Emma: Um…

(Why is he asking to change all of a sudden?)

I tilted my head as I received the things handed to me one after another, and then Prince Kagari picks up the hakama and reaches for my clothes.

Kagari: If you don’t know how to put on hakama I’ll teach you.

Emma: N-no, I’ll try to do as much as I can myself!

(I’m not sure what’s going on but I think it isn’t anything bad---.)

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤ𔘓 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

(----But, why did it come to this?)

[Masterlist] [Chapter 2]

➽──────────────❥

I think I've found a new favourite in IkePri, guys.

(1) Yasha or yaksha refers to guardian deities in Buddhism. In ancient Japan, these terms were given to demonlike warriors.

(2) Hakama are a type of Japanese trousers.

#ikemen prince #ikemen prince translations #kagari amagase #ikepri kagari #ikepri jp #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #ikepri #ikepri translations #ikemen prince kagari #d: omiresources

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sweetiemiller · 3 days ago

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MARRIED AT FIRST SIGHT. kind of.

Joel Miller!AU x Reader.

hi again! so im doing it! ive read over it a million times and if there’s any mistakes please do forgive me. but here’s the full chapter of the start of my spiteful fic lmao.

kidding. im actually really excited to try something different and being embraced by a lot of you has been so great. so thank you everyone who sent a nice word or even just liked the post!

this will probably NSFW at some point. im still deciding when and how it’ll happen in the story but it’s going to be a lot of fun. the POV’s will jump around from chapter to chapter.

thanks to @highinmiamiii sending me the fic i was looking for! thank you! like i said before this fic is heavily inspired by https://www.tumblr.com/tokkiwrites/771944052123959296/game-show-hostjoel-miller-x-contestant-f

and the enjoyment of au!writing. it’s so freeing and let’s us explore characters in different ways. everyone please go read this story, it’s so good and they deserve every single bit of support.

ill stop yappin now and just post it!!

warnings— swearing. referring to killing Tommy Miller (will happen a lot), little bit of fluff for now. future warnings to come!

enjoy—

Chapter 1.

Joel’s POV—

Tommy Miller is a dead man. Joel thinks as he promises to whoever and whatever is above and below that he will personally kill him with his bare hands.

Those same bare hands that are clasped together so tight behind his back as he stands at the top of the aisle. His eyes were boring into Tommy’s who is currently standing up from his seat in the front row with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Yeah. He’s going to kill him.

The lights and the cameras are starting to make the skin on his neck prickle. The people behind the camera’s making him feel tense as his eyes flicker around the room.

He can feel jaw ticking and clenching as his eyes keep looking around the room and catching a few of the eyes of seeing the unknown bride to be’s family are staring at him too. Looking… well, friendly enough. For now anyway.

He can see their eyes scanning him.

Up and down, up and down.

From his slightly greying hair that is just sprinkling through his thick coarse hair. Right down to the black patent dress shoes on his feet that a woman named Jane from production had brought him along with this black three piece suit.

He thinks he looks good. But—

He doesn’t really care and if he was asked to give an honest answer right at this second he’d say exactly that. However, for the first time in a long time he willing to admit that he doesn’t look that rough around the edges.

Which is good, because in about 30 seconds his new wife is about to walk down the aisle.

Not legally of course. But for the sake of the show, he’s contracted to act like it is.

26 seconds.

Why Tommy thought that signing him onto goddamn Married At First Sight he’ll never understand. But the promise of a new Harley-Davidson Sportster Iron 883 and 60% of whatever income from the promotion the construction company will get from being on the show is more than enough to go along with it.

For now anyway.

14 seconds.

He just hopes whoever you are, you’re not one of those absolutely insane people who go on reality television just to cause drama. Because he will walk, cameras and contracts be damned.

He’ll buy his own Harley.

If he’s lucky he’ll get matched with someone who wants to promote their business as well and maybe they can come to some sort of agreement about this whole thing.

9 seconds.

Because who actually goes on a television show to look for love? Who genuinely believes that anyone could even fall in love under these conditions. Cameras. TV therapists. A group full of people who are desperate for their 10 minutes of fame.

It’s just not realistic.

5 seconds.

Joel snaps out his thoughts as he spots Tommy giving him a look. A look that Joel knows means, ‘Dude’, his eyes flicker back and forward before Joel realises what he’s saying. You’re coming down the aisle—

1 second.

Joel hears the doors cracking open and the music starting as soon as his eyes meet the huge white double doors at the end of the room. His hands clenching again as he keeps his focus on the door that’s opening and revealing who he is going to be stuck with for as long as he can handle in this absolutely ridiculous situation his brother has landed him in.

He see’s you walking through the doors. And he genuinely feels his breath get caught in his throat as he see’s your face for the first time.

Your eyes almost immediately meet his as you walk into the wedding hall with who he presumes is your mother. An older woman who’s eyes don’t even attempt to look at him, focused on you.

You look nervous. Terrified even.

Which, to his annoyance, makes him feel something in his chest as he watches you slowly making your way down to him.

He has to admit to himself. You’re genuinely beautiful.

And with that thought, all of a sudden he feels himself starting to panic. He realises wasn’t really expecting to find you attractive. He was fully preparing himself to be putting on his best face and foot forward during this process. His mind focused on that moment he has his first ride of his new Harley-Davidson the entire time.

But now, he’s going to have to focus on that damn bike to stop himself from doing anything goddamn stupid.

The closer you get to the bottom of the aisle, the harder he’s having to hold back a glare that is itching to aim straight for Tommy. But he doesn’t. Because he knows his pain in the ass little brother is going to have an even bigger shit-eating grin on his face now that he’s seen you.

It’s not until you’re kissing your assumed mother on the cheek and whispering something to her that he finally see’s you up close for the first time. His eyes feeling like they’re bouncing around his head as he takes you in.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph— he’s fucked.

The hair. The eyes. The nose. The goddamn lips. The white dress.

It’s not at all what he was picturing. He was fully imagining you and expecting you to go all out and look like princess cake topper. The show is paying for everything after all.

But no, you’re dressed in a long flowing silk dress. With little cap sleeves and the front of your dress making your tits look round and soft—

He has to stop.

He opens his mouth to say something, anything. But you’re already beating him to it with the sweetest voice he’s ever heard.

“I like your suit,” you say, the words falling from your lips like they were dragged out of you. Which admittedly— is very cute.

He lets a short puff of air escape his nose as he doesn’t quite laugh but, almost an amused look crosses his face as he looks down at you.

“I like your dress,” he says back, quietly but loud enough for you to hear. Or that least he hopes you do. Because he does like your dress, he likes it a lot actually, which surprises him.

He’s not a man to even care about dresses. Or anything stupid like that. A woman is a woman, he doesn’t care what they’re dressed in. But this dress on you? He’s struggling. Badly.

He watches you blush a little as you look down at your dress, running a hand over the front of it. The silk moving under your finger tips, almost hypnotising him for a moment before your soft laugh breaks him out his trance.

“Thanks. They gave my mom free reign in the dress shop,” you say with a soft, nearly genuine smile as you jut your thumb over your shoulder towards the woman who was walking you down the aisle now sitting in the front row behind you.

Ah, so he was right.

Joel smiles a little as he nods his head at your mom, being respectful for as long as he can handle this experiment.

Oh God he’s going to have to actually interact with your family.

He looks back at you, watching as your other hand is clutching your bouquet of sunflowers so tightly he’s actually a bit worried the stems might snap in half right here.

“She has good taste,” he says as his eyes travel back up to your face. He feels something twist in his chest again as he sees how nervous you look, and before he can open his mouth to give you just a little reassurance.

Knowing that the cameras and lights are probably making you just as nervous as him, someone clears their throat. Making you jump a little as his head turns almost too quickly to the sound tensing up a little until he see’s it’s just the very real officiant for this very real wedding.

God, what is he doing?

He hears her asking the both of you if you’re ready to begin and he just nods. He looks down at you and taking the chance to grab your free hand just right there. Temping him already.

He smiles a little bit as he sees the warmth spread on your cheeks and your almost wide-eyed facial expressions looking up at him.

Beautiful. He can’t help but let the thought sit at the front of his brain for a moment.

“You ready?,” he whispers to you, his own eyes going a little wide too from how fast his heart rate is going as he tightens his grip slightly as he watches you nod and breath out a soft, yeah.

He nods back as he turns back to the wedding officiant, taking a deep breath as he tries to focus on what the woman is starting to say, her very real speech.

Oh sweet Jesus, he needs to read the vows that Tommy wrote him.

This is going to be a nightmare.

#joel miller #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #mafs!joel miller #made my own tag lol #writing

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 7 hours ago

Text

Fire on the Mountain - Chapter Two: Gods and Monsters

Pairing: Otto Hightower (House of the Dragon) x OFC (Lia Costayne) Warnings: Angst, arranged marriage, canon typical sexism. Word count: ~10.2k

Chapter summary: A terrible secret threatens to bring an abrupt end to Lia's friendship with Rhaenyra and Alicent, and Otto finally shows his hand with regards to his intentions for her.

Author's note: Header by @foxinthegodswood who also beta read this for me - this story would be nothing without you. Thank you for the care and attention you have put in both myself and my writing. I love you.

“My darling Lia,

I hope you are faring well. By the time you read this, it shall be your name day. I can hardly believe that you are now fifteen. It seems as though it was just yesterday that you were placed into my arms, red faced and squawking – Ser Otto tells us you are growing into quite the young beauty, I hope that we may lay our eyes upon you ourselves soon. Alas, we cannot make the journey to the capital to deliver our warm wishes in person. I have recovered from my fever, but my health remains delicate – I must remain abed until I have regained my strength. Short walks in the sea air are helping to keep my spirits lifted, but I fear a journey across the continent would be too much for me. I hope you understand. Please do not be disheartened, and try not to worry.

Enclosed is a gift for you – a token of our love, but also a reminder of your house, so that in your absence you do not forget it. “The First to Rise”. I hope you shall wear it with pride. Your father and your brothers, Robert and Leon, send their love and their well wishes. I hope you are conducting yourself in a manner that would make us all proud.

Happy name day, my only daughter.

Your loving mother,

Lady Dyana Costayne.”

Lia allowed the parchment to flutter down upon the table top;she had read it so many times now that she was certain she could recite it by heart. Once more, she snatched the brooch from the now torn paper it had been wrapped in, turning it around in her fingers, watching as the silver of it caught the light. It was a chalice, one of the symbols that adorned the sigil of House Costayne. It was pretty, but pretty was not enough to placate the hopeless sense of abandonment that plagued her. She allowed the brooch to drop heavily on top of the letter it had accompanied, just as its shape began to blur from the tears that obscured her vision.

It had been six months since the King’s tourney for his now deceased son, six months since Lia had first received news of her mother’s ill health and learned that her family would not be attending. Each month since had delivered news that was much the same;sudden bouts of fever that left her mother confused and bedridden. She knew she should not be surprised that they would not come to see her for an occasion as trivial as her name day, the last time she had seen any of them had been when she had first arrived in King’s Landing. They had come to enjoy the hospitality of Viserys, and to offer Otto their congratulations on his recent elevation to the position of Hand of the King – it had not even been a visit to see her.

She remembered the smell of almond oil that had clung to her mother’s hair and skin as she had pulled her into a tight embrace. It was cloying and sweet, and overwhelmed her senses. She had not seen her mother for two years and, at the age of eight, such familiarity following a long separation was jarring. It had left her feeling sick. A similar nausea settled within her stomach as she cast her eyes away from her writing desk, breathing deep in a desperate bid to will away her melancholy. She would not cry upon her name day, even if she felt she had every reason to. Not a single person, save for her immediate family, appeared to have remembered, and their gift seemed so impersonal; a simple brooch did little to ease the weight of loneliness that fell upon her delicate shoulders. Though, how could they have given her anything else? As her gaze fell upon her bed, taking the crisp, white linens that were pulled taut at every corner, it occurred to her that she was more familiar with every thread that had been woven together to make up the sheets upon where she slept than she was the face of the woman who gave her life. She was as much a stranger to House Costayne as they were to her, and what could you possibly gift someone unknown to you that would hold any meaningful sentiment?

Lia rose from her seat, leaving both letter and brooch discarded upon her writing desk, and walked towards the floor length looking glass that was propped against the wall nearest the privacy screen where she dressed each morning. She leaned towards the reflective surface, dabbing beneath her eyes with the pads of her fingers, ensuring no trace of her sorrow remained before she faced the world. She turned her head, ensuring her raven curls remained fastened into a tight bun at the nape of her neck; satisfied that they had not shifted, she smoothed her hands over the bodice of her powder blue gown, and headed for the door.

Rhaenyra almost fell against her as she opened it, her own hand in the motion of pushing it inwards. Lia rolled her eyes as she caught the other girl by the shoulders, steadying her in the doorway.

“Gods, ‘Nyra, do you ever knock?” she asked exasperatedly. It was a rhetorical question; Lia already knew the answer was a resounding no. Rhaenyra was a princess, and now the heir to the Iron Throne. She never had to ask permission, she just took what she wanted, including her own friend’s sense of privacy.

“You are so ugly when you scowl,” Rhaenyra teased, a soft smile upon her lips as she raised her hand to stroke her fingers across the peachy softness of Lia’s face. “Come with me.”

Her gaze was soft, yet imploring, her blue eyes sparkling with mischievous intent and, as she withdrew her hand, Lia could not help but notice the state of her fingernails – they were clean. It was not unusual for Rhaenyra to stroll about the castle clad in her riding leathers, stinking of dragon, with her hands caked in grime from the pits in which her mount, Syrax, resided. Today, however, she smelled of bergamot. The faint scent clung to her skin, her long silver hair falling about her shoulders but not quite obscuring the loose peplum that adorned the cream coloured gown she wore. She had either just come from a meeting of the small council or was on her way to one. It seemed she was taking her duties as heir seriously. It was an odd sensation to see Rhaenyra lend any sort of care to what others thought of her, like telling the tide not to turn or the moon not to wax and wane.

“Where are we going?” Lia asked, stepping out into the corridor and pulling the door closed behind her.

“To choose the newest addition of the Kingsguard,” Rhaenyra replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Lia wanted to protest, to tell her that it was not her place to decide such things, her involvement was needless. The words died upon her tongue as Rhaenyra interlocked the fingers of her left hand with those of Lia’s right. Her grip was loose yet intimate, allowing for their arms to swing gently between them as they walked. In that moment, as they held hands, all of Lia’s sorrow surrounding her name day seemed to vanish, her entire world narrowed to the sensation of Rhaenyra’s hand in hers. A sense of calm settled over her as she stole glances at her friend as they walked purposefully through the winding labyrinth of Maegor’s Holdfast.

‘I hope you will hold my hand forever.’

“Will Alicent not be joining us?” Lia asked as they stepped out onto the balcony that overlooked the inner courtyard of the Red Keep.

“No,” Rhaenyra replied with a dismissive wave of her hand, stepping onto the set of wooden steps that had been placed in front of the stone balustrade to allow her to see over it better.

Lia wanted to press the issue, however, off to their right was Ser Harrold Westerling, his gaze steely, and posture rigid as he stood tall in his armour and white cloak. His presence did not broker a welcoming atmosphere for idle gossip, so she fell silent, allowing her gaze to sweep across the men gathered below, awaiting their audience with the princess.

It struck her as she looked upon them that they were spread out in a similar fashion to how cyvasse pieces are placed upon a board. She wondered if she called out for a dragon to remove an elephant from the board if they would assemble themselves to mirror the move as it is played in the game. She smiled to herself at the thought, blue eyes sparkling with amusement, until she felt the familiar weight and heat of a hand upon her shoulder, causing her to startle slightly. The smile disappeared from her face, her gaze remaining fixed ahead as she willed her heart to cease its sudden thumping against her ribs.

“Is there something that amuses you, Lady Lia?” Otto asked quietly, the subtle disapproval in his tone unmissed by her. His breath was warm against her ear and the gentle brush of his beard against the exposed juncture of her neck sent a shiver up her spine.

She had not been anticipating the Hand’s presence, and silently cursed herself for not having a witty response as she meekly shook her head, a timid sounding “no” leaving her lips.

Otto hummed in acknowledgement, stepping away from her to stand beside Rhaenyra’s elevated platform. She could still feel his hand upon her shoulder like a brand – it happened every time he touched her of late; a gentle hand upon the small of her back to guide her as they walked together, the soft brush of his fingers upon her temple as he tucked away an errant curl, they all left a blaze of heat in their wake, an uncomfortable coiling in Lia’s belly that made her cheeks flush and her mouth run dry. She hated it. She craved more of his touch while simultaneously never wanting for him to ever lay a hand upon her again.

As Ser Harrold called out each of the Knight’s names, listing off their attributes and history of service and battle, Lia’s attention was not focused on the men below, but instead how Otto loomed over Rhaenyra, whispering to her.

“You might thank him for his leal service,” she heard him advise.

She knew that as Hand of the King it was Otto’s duty to help with the recruitment of the Kingsguard, to ensure the best possible knight was placed in service of protection of the ruling monarch, and yet she could not shake her jealousy, nor could she understand it. As Otto leaned conspiratorially towards the princess and she in turn lifted her face to his, Lia was grateful for the long bell sleeves of her gown, for they hid the way her hands balled into angry fists. He used to whisper like that to her. Ever since he had begun orchestrating visits between Alicent and the King, it seemed she was of no use to him; she could not tell him anything he did not already know. A bitter, acrid taste rose up in her throat, enveloping her tongue. She was certain that if she were to speak now then every word would hang in the air, dripping with poison.

Forcing herself to look ahead, she bites back a scoff as Ser Criston Cole steps forward. The very same knight that had looked up at Rhaenyra during the tourney, and requested her favour with moon-eyed adoration. Lia’s head snapped to the side, wide eyed in disbelief and annoyance as she heard Rhaenyra state him as her choice.

“He is the only one to have known true battle, the rest are tourney knights,” she reasoned to Otto.

It was so like Rhaenyra to pick someone who fawned over her, and it was becoming more than apparent to Lia that her presence here was not really needed at all. She pushed away from the balcony edge, stepping quietly back through the doors of the Keep. There were enough reminders of her own unimportance, what with Rhaenyra being named heir and Alicent secretly courting the widowed king, without Lia being given another reason to feel like a spare part.

She walked the winding halls until she found her way to the Godswood, seating herself against the peeling white bark of the trunk of the Heart Tree, and turned her face up towards the vivid red and orange canopy of its leaves. The ground was hard beneath her, the roots lumpy against her backside, doubtless dirtying her skirts, yet she could not find it within herself to care. The sun shone warm and dappled through the branches, drawing Lia into a doze she was powerless to resist, yielding to the heaviness of her eyelids as they drifted closed.

“There you are.”

She awoke to the sound of Alicent’s voice and the gentle touch of her hand upon her shoulder, giving her a careful shake. Her eyes blinked open, vivid blue meeting those of warm brown and, for a moment, she wondered where she was.

‘Such a pretty view, have I died and the Maiden has come to guide me?’

Her brow furrowed in confusion as she took in her surroundings, green grass and gnarled roots in place of soft sheets and pillows. Realisation settled upon her as she looked back up at her friend who wore the slightest smile of amusement upon her lips as she gently plucked a stray crimson leaf from Lia’s dark curls, allowing it to flutter delicately to the ground.

“What are you doing sleeping out here? Rhaenyra and I have been looking for you,” she scolded gently, offering out a hand to help Lia to her feet.

Lia gratefully accepted her outstretched hand, moving to dust off the back of her dress as she stood. Her voice was still sleepy, nonchalant as she answered Alicent’s question while craning her neck behind her to see if her skirts were muddy. “‘Nyra wanted me to help choose a knight for the Kingsguard.It was boring so I left.”

Alicent’s loud, disapproving sigh drew Lia’s attention back to her. She turned, eyes raking over her friend from head to foot. She was wearing another of her mother’s dresses – this one a deep, royal blue with cutouts spanning the length of each sleeve. To Lia, she looked ridiculous, a little girl playing at dress up to appear more grown up than she actually was. She held her tongue, deciding it was not worth the quarrel for her to tell her so.

“Come,” Alicent said, her tone leaving no room for argument as she looped her arm through Lia’s, “your presence is needed elsewhere.”

Lia groaned, yet allowed herself to be led away. “I have had just about enough of my presence being needed today.”

“You will enjoy this, I promise,” Alicent smiled, tightening her arm in Lia’s reassuringly as they walked.

The solar had been filled with wildflowers, delicate hues of pink, yellow and white adorning every available surface. Lia took in the beautiful sight, eyes wide and lips parted in quiet admiration. Rhaenyra stood before the rounded table at the room’s centre, a wide smile upon her face and her hands clasped in front of her as Lia entered.

“You thought we had forgotten, did you not?” Rhaenyra teased, stooping to grab a silver platter laden with lemon cakes and Tyroshi honey fingers and carrying it towards her and Alicent.

“You did all of this for me?” Lia asked in quiet wonder as she turned in a full circle to admire the flowers, before looking upon the assortment of sweet treats held out before her.

“Happy name day, Lia,” Alicent said fondly, finally releasing her arm and reaching up to place a flower crown upon her head of raven curls.

The three girls reclined upon couches set in a semi circle around the table, the cakes and pastries now placed back upon it. Lia watched in quiet amusement as Rhaenyra leaned forward, plucking the candied lemon slices from each square of cake, placing them whole into her mouth. She had always had a larger appetite for everything than her and Alicent, and Lia supposed it was an inevitability of being royalty – when you were worth more, you needed more, an unbreakable cycle, an inherent hunger.

“So, how shall we spend the rest of our afternoon?” Lia asked, plucking idly at the tassel fringe of a cushion she held against her torso, as she sprawled out on her side against the plushness of the couch.

“I thought we might go to the sept,” Alicent offered, her attention focused upon a daisy that she twirled between her fingers. Her head rested against the cushions of the settee she laid upon, her legs bent at the knee.

Lia bristled at the suggestion, unable to stop her disgust from making itself apparent on her face as her features twisted, lips drawing downwards and nose wrinkling as she turned to look for any hint within Alicent’s serene expression that would suggest she was making a rare jest. Lia found none, but was mercifully spared the need to object by Rhaenyra.

“Why ever would we want to do that?” she asked haughtily, licking honey from her fingers as she lounged upon her front, silver hair falling forward around her like a silken curtain.

“I would like to pray for my mother,” Alicent said matter of factly, moving to sit up and swinging her legs over the edge of the couch, “and I thought we might pray for yours too.”

The room fell silent, and Lia immediately felt rotten for having reacted negatively to Alicent’s suggestion. From the way Rhaenyra slowly moved to prop herself up on her elbow, her gaze downcast, it was apparent the sentiment was one that was shared.

“The sept it is then,” Lia agreed softly, tugging her flower crown free from her hair as she rose to stand.

Despite the drafty, old stone of the Grand Sept, it was stiflingly hot within as they descended the steps, the heat of the candles burning bright within making sweat prickle upon the back of Lia’s neck. Alicent led her and Rhaenyra towards the large, circular dais that sat in the room’s centre, the top of it laden with lit votive candles. White wax dripped in enormous stalactites from the edge.

“I come here to be close to my mother,” Alicent told them, taking a wick and lighting her own candle, “I thought perhaps you could do the same, Rhaenyra?”

Lia shifted uncomfortably, twisting the rings upon her fingers as she looked upon the flames. The Hightowers were a pious house, and though the Costaynes followed the faith of the Seven, they did not observe quite as strictly as those they were sworn to – at least Lia did not.

“I would not know what to say,” Rhaenyra confessed, clearly sharing in Lia’s discomfort as she hesitated beside her friend.

“Then do not say anything,” Alicent insisted, giving her sleeve a gentle tug, “just contemplate quietly.”

Lia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as Rhaenyra complied, kneeling beside Alicent and clasping her hands in front of her. She wondered if in some unknown realm, leagues away, a god of Old Valyria looked upon Rhaenyra’s actions with disdain. She pondered how Daemon, or even Viserys would react if asked to do the same, and fought the urge to smile.

“You too, Lia,” Rhaenyra said, turning her head to look up at her.

“I have no one to pray for,” she admitted, shrugging slightly, “none of my family have…have died.”

She felt almost embarrassed to allow the last of the words to leave her mouth, as though she was being prideful in flaunting something she had that they did not. If either Rhaenyra or Alicent felt that way, they did not show it.

“No one needs to have died for you to pray for them,” Alicent explained, keeping her hands folded in prayer as she turned to look at Lia. “Just kneel with us.”

Lia gave a slight nod, sighing softly as she knelt beside Rhaenyra. She placed her hands together and closed her eyes, but she did not pray. Instead her mind wandered to the last time she had visited this very same sept with her mother, when her family had visited King’s Landing all those years ago.

“Now, Lia, you must light a candle and pray for our safe travels back home,” her mother had urged her, pushing her towards the dais with a firm hand upon her back.

Lia had not prayed for her family’s safe return for the Whispering Sound. Instead she had prayed that her family could stay with her, so that she could be as happy as both Alicent and Rhaenyra were, surrounded by loved ones.

Her prayer had gone unanswered, and her family had left the next day. From that point onwards, Lia never prayed again, deciding that if there were any gods at all that they had decided she was unworthy of listening to, in which case she thought they were unworthy of speaking to.

As Lia made her way back to her chambers, she was met by Otto. He strode purposefully towards her door, drawing up to his full height in front of her as she paused at the sight of him. Her hand stilled its movements upon the door handle as she looked quizzically at the small wooden box he held in his hands.

“I had not forgotten what day it is,” he told her, the corners of his eyes crinkled in softness as he looked down at her. “Forgive me for leaving it so late, I have been otherwise occupied, but I have a gift for you.”

Lia’s eyes moved from the box, up to Otto’s face and then back again, a mixture of nerves and suspicion fluttering in her belly at the kindness and warmth he regarded her with. “What is it?”

“Allow me to show you inside,” he gestured towards the door, and Lia nodded, pushing it open and stepping forward as he followed close behind.

She watched curiously as Otto made his way towards her writing desk,her maidservant having long since tidied away her brooch and the letter from her mother, and set the box down upon it, taking a seat in the same chair that she had sat in that very morning.

“Come closer,” Otto gestured, before reaching for a sheet of parchment and the lit candle that sat upon the table.

Lia stepped towards him, her body feeling like a tightly coiled spring. She had never felt so uneasy in his presence before, and a part of her longed to flee from the room, to burst into Rhaenyra’s bedchamber just as the princess had done to her that morning, and demand sanctuary from the uncomfortable sensations that swirled within her body.

She bit back a gasp as Otto’s hands reached for her hips, firmly but not forcefully guiding her to perch upon his knee. It was nothing she had not done before – as a child, she and Alicent had shared Otto’s lap countless times while he read to them from history books. Alicent had always paid rapt attention, while Lia usually fell asleep, lulled into unconsciousness by the comforting scent of sandalwood that seemed to permeate Otto’s very essence. Sitting on his lap now, however, caused a stirring within her that made Lia’s cheeks blaze. She was so tense she feared she may shatter apart at the slightest touch.

“I had this made specially for you,” Otto explained, clearly oblivious to her discomfort as he pulled a block of golden yellow wax from the box and melted it over the candle, letting it drip onto the parchment he had in front of him.

As it pooled upon the page, Lia could see that it was the same shade of yellow as her house colours. Without realising, she leaned back against him, allowing her back to rest against his broad chest as he took a stamp from the box, encouraging her to grip the wooden handle as he wrapped his much larger hand around hers to guide it.

The contact made her breath hitch, and she sat frozen, only able to focus on the sensations of his warm, calloused palm against the back of her hand, and his sturdy thigh pressing into the underneath of her clenched thighs.

Otto pressed the stamp firmly into the wax, holding her hand there for a few seconds, before pulling it back. “If you press too lightly, the stamp will not take,” he explained, “there, can you see that?”

He let go of her hand, taking the stamp from her as she leaned forward over the desk to examine the impression that had been left in the wax. It was a circular sigil, and she recognised within it two roses from that of House Costayne, however, in place of chalices there were flames.

“What are those?” she asked, hovering her finger over a flame, careful not to press it into the still solidifying wax.

“Ah,” he rumbled from behind her, and Lia was certain she could hear a smile in his voice, “those are the beacon flames of House Hightower.”

“But why?” she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion as she twisted around in his lap to look at him.

Otto smiled softly, but his expression gave nothing away. “You will make much use of this, I am sure,” he told her, patting her softly on the hip as he made to move from his seat.

Lia sprang off of him as though she were a cat on a hot roof, though found herself suddenly heavy with disappointment at the loss of his proximity.

“Now, get to bed,” he said cooly, standing and smoothing his doublet, his expression once more becoming the look of stern disapproval she had grown used to, “the hour is late.”

She lifted the parchment as he strode from the room, examining the rose and flame sigil, pondering its meaning. She was overcome by the sense that once she discovered the truth of it, she would not like what she found, and allowed the page to slip from her fingers. It fluttered to the tabletop just as the door closed heavily behind Otto.

Lia came to stand beside Rhaenyra the following morning, as the princess looked out upon the gardens from the wall walk of the Keep. Despite the gentle breeze and warm sunshine that shone down upon them, making the lush greens of the gardens seem more vibrant than usual, Rhaenyra’s expression was pensive, her gaze hardened, mouth pinched in the way it did only when she was annoyed. Lia followed the line of Rhaenyra’s sight, catching a glimpse of Viserys walking beside Laena Velaryon. Laena looked tiny compared to Viserys, and Lia could not help but silently wonder what the King would want with a child.

“Lord Corlys has seen fit to offer a betrothal between his daughter and my father,” Rhaenyra said, as though sensing Lia’s thoughts, her tone was clipped with annoyance, her eyes never leaving the gardens below.

“She is only twelve though,” Lia said, her eyes widening in horror, trying her best to push the images that flashed through her mind away, none of them pleasant.

“Well, apparently, Rhaenys has told her that she will not have to bed him until she is fourteen.”

Rhaenyra turned to look at Lia then, and though her expression remained angry, there was a desperate sadness held within the depths of her gaze. Lia tilted her head sympathetically, reaching out to give her friend’s arm a reassuring squeeze.

“He named me as his heir, why must he remarry?” she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

Lia did not know how to answer that, but knew her silence would offer little comfort either. “He is not attempting to replace you,” she offered gently, “but he is the king, he is expected to take a wife.”

Rhaenyra scoffed, shaking her head as she looked back towards the gardens, her expression hardening to anger once more.

“If not Laena, it will be someone else eventually,” Lia told her.

Lia followed as Rhaenyra walked away. She had meant to offer comfort, but it was obvious that in speaking the truth she had unintentionally hurt her. As they rounded the corner of the wall walk, Rhaenys came into view, sat upon a wooden bench, clearly observing the same view that they had just been.

“It bothers you, does it not?” she asked Rhaenyra with a cat-like tilt of her head.

Lia shot Rhaenyra a look of apology as she slipped away, acknowledging the elder princess with a bow of her head before going back inside. She had never felt comfortable in the presence of Rhaenys. Much like the ferocious Red Queen, Meleys, whose back she flew upon, Lia always had the sense that Rhaenys possessed the ability to tear people apart, though with words instead of rending jaws and blistering fire. She had no desire to hang around for the inevitable dressing down that Rhaenys would give her friend, lest the attention be turned upon herself. Silently, she withdrew without even a farewell to either woman, and slipped into the halls.

Alicent balked at the sight of Lia, her eyes widening slightly and her lips pressing into a tight line as they happened upon each other in the empty corridor.

“Another present for me?” Lia asked teasingly, lifting the lid of the small wooden box that Alicent held in her hands.

“Must you be so nosy?!” Alicent snapped, snatching it away and slamming the lid closed once more, but it was too late, Lia had already seen what was inside.

She recognised the small stone dragon from the model of King’s Landing that Viserys kept within his apartments. Rhaenyra had snuck them into the room when they were younger, and they had giggled raucously as they had moved the little models about the makeshift city streets, finding the very idea of a dragon visiting the Street of Silk so funny that tears of laughter had rolled down their rosy cheeks. It had been less funny when Ser Westerling had happened across them and they had received a scolding for their trespass, mercifully lenient owing to the princess’ involvement.

“Why do you have that?” Lia demanded, her stare piercing as it fixed upon Alicent’s.

“It is none of your business,” she answered simply, leaving Lia to stand there and watch as she walked away.

Really, she did not need to ask, she knew Alicent had continued her visits to Viserys at the request of her father. It was a secret she hated keeping, and for that reason alone she hoped that Viserys would agree to marry Laena Velaryon. Her friendship with Rhaenyra and Alicent would never be the same again if Otto had his way.

Lia kept a distance from Rhaenyra and Alicent over the next few days. She loved them both dearly, but Rhaenyra’s petulance regarding the inevitable betrothal of her father and Alicent’s continued secret courting of him put her in a position that made her squirm with discomfort. She preferred to exist in solitude than endure a situation where she would unleash chaos by speaking the truth or be complicit in deception if she did not.

She sat upon the settee in her chambers, her legs tucked beneath her as she leaned back against the window sill. The early afternoon light that streamed in illuminated the pages of the book she read, the tome perched precariously within the fingers of her right hand – it was a tale of a heroic knight, rescuing his lady from the clutches of a monster.

Lia scoffed as her eyes trailed over the part where the knight valiantly draws his sword, challenging the beast that holds the maiden captive.

“Wait until he realises she is friends with a princess and rides off to save her instead,” she murmured quietly to herself.

She looked up as a soft knock fell upon her door, snapping the book closed. “Come,” she called out, watching curiously as a timid looking page boy opened her door the smallest of fractions, peering through.

“Apologies for the intrusion, my lady. The Lord Hand has requested your presence in his apartments.”

“What for?” she asked curtly, annoyance prickling at her at the hesitation in the messenger’s tone and body language. It was borne of politeness, she was sure, but she found it far ruder to have to address a floating head than she would if he simply stepped into the room.

“Forgive me, my lady, he did not say.”

The boy’s expression was simpering, apologetic and, unable to stand his presence a second longer, she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “I shall be there momentarily.”

It was a short walk from the space that Lia occupied within the castle to where Otto resided. She knew the route well, could have traversed it with her eyes closed, and yet she found herself dragging her feet, prolonging the journey. The memory of him pulling her into his lap burned fresh in her mind, if she closed her eyes she could still feel the press of his chest against her back, the touch of his hand as it guided her own. It was not the proximity that she wished to flee from, however, but the way she craved more of it.

“Did the messenger not impress upon you the need for haste?” Otto asked, brow pinched in annoyance as she entered his apartments, keeping her spine rigid against the solid wood of the door as she closed it gently behind her.

“I am afraid he did not,” she said, eyes raking over him from head to foot. He stood before the lit fireplace, which served as the only source of light in the large chamber. He cut a formidable silhouette within the gloom of his surroundings, dressed in the green of House Hightower, strapped into the iron plating that protected his middle.

She wondered how he had looked in his youth, when he had served as a knight, if he had been as stern then as he was now, or if he had charmed his way into the heart of Alyrie Florent with kisses to the hand and demands of her favour.

His lips pressed into a tight line, an expression that made Lia immediately want to grin triumphantly as she knew she had frustrated him. “I need you to assist me with my armour,” he told her, beckoning her closer.

Lia stepped towards him, the heat of the fire coupled with the feverish blush that broke out across her pale skin made her want to claw herself free of it. Instead, she busied herself with tightening the straps that held his faulds fastened. “It looks as though your squire has done most of the work for you already,” she commented, “could Alicent not help you with the rest?”

“Alicent is with the king,” he replied firmly.

Lia was grateful for the fact that Otto had his back turned to her, so that he missed the way her eyes flashed with anger as she glared at the back of his head. He was not even trying to hide it from her anymore.

He turned, holding his arms out towards her, and she reached over to the table where his gloves rested, picking one up and focusing on the feeling of the supple leather beneath her fingertips as she tugged it gently over his large hand. “Where are you going, anyway?” she questioned, attempting to mask her fury with curiosity as she lifted her eyes to meet his intent gaze.

“To Dragonstone,” he replied, as she helped him into his other glove, “and that is all you need to know,” he added quickly, as if sensing she would press for further information.

He was right of course, a thousand questions raced through her mind – what could he possibly need upon that desolate rock? It sat empty, the seat of House Targaryen that Rhaenyra would inherit one day and do as she pleased with. Otto had no business being there.

She sighed, allowing her gaze to drop as she stepped away from him, but Otto was quick to follow, closing the space between them as he gently grasped her delicate jaw in his hand, urging her to look back up at him. The leather of his glove was soft and warm, and she fought the urge to nuzzle into it.

“It is important that you grow accustomed to assisting in this manner, Lia,” he told her earnestly, “it will become a routine for you sooner than late.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion, unable to make sense of his meaning. He raised his other hand to rest upon her cheek, cradling her face as his expression softened considerably, his hazel eyes searching the blue of her own. “You will be good while I am gone?”

Her breath hitched, it felt as though all the air had been stolen away from her lungs. She placed her hands against his chest, her fingers clutching the thick quilting of his doublet, as she forced herself to grin, an attempt to dissipate the tension. “I am always good.”

Lia could still feel the press of Otto’s gloves upon her face as she leant against the balustrade of the wall walk that overlooked the gardens. Despite the crispness of the air, her skin still felt heated, even though more than an hour had passed since Otto had departed from King’s Landing.

“You look as unhappy as I feel,” Rhaenyra’s voice startled Lia from her thoughts, and she turned her head to see the princess coming to stand beside her, resting her forearms upon the stone ledge as she leaned forward to look out to the horizon.

“I would rather not speak of it,” Lia sighed, turning her attention back to the gardens below. “And what of you?”

“My uncle,” Rhaenyra said bitterly.

“I suppose that makes a change from it being your father,” Lia smirked, “but what has he done? Your father told him to return to the Vale.”

“Since when has Daemon ever done as he is told?” Rhaenyra scoffed. “He has stolen the egg meant for my brother and taken up residence upon Dragonstone.”

Lia’s lips parted in shock at the realisation, as the reason for Otto’s swift departure now made sense. She could not envision Otto being able to convince Daemon to stand down without there being significant bloodshed – the two men despised each other. She knew Rhaenyra was well aware of this too and, as she turned to look at her, she could see from the determined set of her jaw and her piercing gaze that it was not something the princess would leave unchallenged.

“You want me to talk you out of doing something stupid?” Lia asked, turning to face her fully.

Rhaenyra shook her head, pushing away from the balustrade and reached for Lia’s hand, keeping it clutched between both of her own. “I would go to Alicent if I needed to be convinced not to do something. I am asking for your support, and your silence in this.”

Lia sighed, her shoulders sagging as she cast a withering look at her friend. “‘Nyra, I–”

“Lia, please,” Rhaenyra begged, her brows arched in a look that bordered upon despair. “My uncle will listen to me, you know he will, but I need to leave here without my father or Alicent knowing, because they will try to stop me. If they ask after my whereabouts I need you to lie. Promise me – promise me – that you will give me time to get to Syrax before you say anything.”

In answer, Lia tugged her hand free of Rhaenyra’s, and pulled her into a crushing hug. The scent of bergamot mixed with smoke filled her nostrils as she pressed her face into her long, silver hair. “Please, please be careful.”

Come nightfall, neither Rhaenyra or Otto had returned yet, and Lia’s thoughts raced, anxiety coiled like a serpent within her belly as she sat up against the pillows in bed, unable to shake the idea that Daemon had hacked them to bits with Dark Sister.

Her door being gently pushed open followed the soft knock upon it, and Alicent stepped tentatively through it, the pink of her nightgown so pale it could easily be mistaken for white in certain light. She held her hands in front of her, her cuticles picked bloody as she stared at Lia with uncertainty in the depths of her brown eyes.

“It has been a long time since I have fallen asleep without both my father and Rhaenyra here,” she explained quietly, shifting nervously from foot to foot, “and…forgive me, it was a childish thought…”

“No, wait!” Lia called out, as Alicent turned back towards the door. “It isn’t childish, I do not wish to be alone either.”

Lia pulled back the covers, patting the space beside her, and Alicent’s face softened, a small smile tugging at her lips as she moved towards the bed and climbed in beside her friend. For a long moment, Lia was convinced that Alicent would simply fall asleep as the silence stretched heavy and uncomfortable between them. Her fingers stroked idly at the soft linen of the bed sheets until finally Alicent spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you think I am a good person?” she asked.

Lia huffed back a soft laugh, as though it were the most ridiculous question in the world. “You imbecile.”

‘You are the best of any of us.’

Alicent smiled, though it was a tight and uncomfortable thing that did not reach her eyes. “I fear Rhaenyra will no longer think I am…”

“I am guessing you know where she has gone?”

Alicent gave a slight nod. “Word of it got back to Viserys from the dragon keepers. He is furious.”

Lia glanced sideways at Alicent, it puzzled her how she could speak so casually of the king, as though she was being allowed to peer in on a secret that she had no business knowing.

“Do you wish to marry him?” Lia dared not speak his name or title, to mention either would be to fabricate it into something tangible, something that could not be undone.

“My father wants me to,” she replied simply, clutching the bedcovers tight against her chest.

“That is not what I asked,” Lia chastised softly. It had always irked her the way that Alicent made a habit of avoiding speaking her own thoughts and desires, simply existing through the whims of others. “But you know, Laena may end up being the one, and then…then you would be free.”

“I am not sure free is a word I could ever use to describe myself,” Alicent leaned in, resting her head upon Lia’s pillow, and Lia moved closer. She had no words of wisdom to offer, nothing that could quell the worry in Alicent’s heart, she simply hoped her presence was enough. Sinking down into the bed, she allowed herself to be lulled to sleep by the comforting presence of being cuddled near to the closest thing she would ever have to a sister.

Lia squealed, her heart practically leaping in her ribcage with happiness as she flung herself towards Rhaenyra the next morning. She had strode towards Lia in the courtyard, a proud smirk upon her face, still clad in her riding leathers. She was dirty and smelly, and the stench of brimstone was an assault on Lia’s senses as she crushed the filthy leather of the princess’ chest against the pristine brocade of her own. It mattered not, she had never been more pleased to see her.

“You are a sight for sore eyes,” Lia teased gently as she pulled back, discreetly checking Rhaenyra for any sign of injury.

“I am unharmed,” Rhaenyra reassured her.

“And the egg?” Lia asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Back where it belongs,” Rhaenyra’s glove clad hands tugged Lia by her forearms into the nearest alcove, her voice becoming hushed. “I have been thinking about what you said, about Laena.”

“And?” Lia urged, unresistant to Rhaenyra’s manhandling of her. She cocked her head impatiently.

“It occurred to me when I confronted Daemon how easily he could have cut me down, to reclaim his position as heir, what he believes is rightfully his,” Rhaenyra explained, never relinquishing her grasp of Lia. Lia wrapped her slender fingers as best she could around the sleeves of Rhaenyra’s riding jacket, an attempt to mirror the gesture. “I am all that stands between Daemon and the throne. Perhaps…perhaps it would not be so bad if my father were to remarry, if only for any subsequent children he sires to push Daemon further down the line of succession.”

Lia felt relief wash over her like a refreshing wave, heaving a gentle sigh. “It gladdens me to hear that, it is inevitably going to happen at some point, whoever it is–”

“It must be Laena,” Rhaenyra insisted, and Lia’s relief dissipated so quickly it may as well have never existed at all, “it would unite the last of the Valyrian houses in the realm and ensure the continuation of our bloodlines.”

Lia gave Rhaenyra a tight smile, hoping desperately that her face did not betray the secret she harboured for Alicent, nor the disgust that roiled within her belly at her friend’s explanation. The incestuous customs of House Targaryen had always seemed strange to her, and something she avoided paying any mind to as much as possible. “Of course,” she said quietly, “it should be Laena.”

“Where are you going?” Lia asked, her arms dropping limply to her sides as Rhaenyra pulled away from her and turned to walk inside.

“To receive the scolding I am owed,” she called over her shoulder with a smile.

‘Gods, please let it be Laena that Viserys chooses.’

The next time that Lia saw Otto, he was striding towards the small council chamber, with Alicent at his side. He did not spare Lia a second glance, his steps quick and purposeful as his daughter hurried to keep pace with him. Alicent never attended meetings of the small council, and as she passed Lia, their eyes met for the briefest of moments. Lia immediately knew from the haunted look in Alicent’s stare and the grim line her mouth was pressed into what was about to happen – Viserys had made his choice.

She felt sick to her stomach, and though she knew it was better to stay away, she was unable to resist the pull towards the closed doors of the chamber. Lia kept a safe distance, so as not to be told to go away by the white cloaks posted outside to keep watch and prevent intrusions. She paced nervously, certain she must be wearing down the stone of the floor as she walked back and forth, twisting the rings on her fingers as she silently prayed to any god who might listen that Viserys would choose the Velaryon girl, and not tear apart the only thing in this lonely place that brought her any joy.

After what felt like an eternity, Lia froze, her pulse racing as the doors to the chamber burst open and the hulking frame of Corlys Velaryon stormed down the corridor, his dark features twisted into an expression so angry it was almost a snarl. It was not the face of a man who had just been given the news that his daughter would be queen; it was the face of a man spurned. Lia’s heart sank like a stone in a pond. For the second time in her life, Lia affirmed that if indeed the Seven did exist, they were deaf to her pleas.

Rhaenyra hurried out shortly after Corlys, and it was the sight of tears streaming down her cheeks that finally spurred Lia into action as she moved towards her friend.

“I hate her, I hate her,” Rhaenyra choked out, not resisting as Lia wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. They remained that way, awkwardly stumbling through the Keep, back towards Rhaenyra’s quarters, as Lia attempted to hush Rhaenyra and soothe her angry sobs with gentle words and calming sounds. The pair were so fixated on one another that neither stopped to notice if anyone else in the castle might take note of their commotion, and if they had then neither Lia or Rhaenyra would care.

Rhaenyra came to perch on the edge of her bed, eyes red and watery as she swiped at the tears upon her ruddy cheeks with jerky, angry movements.

“I am afraid I do not have a handkerchief,” Lia said softly, sitting beside her, their hips grazing slightly. It was a meek attempt at comfort, to lighten the mood, to take Rhaenyra’s mind and her own off of the fact that their happy little trio had been torn asunder. It was unsuccessful.

Rhaenyra’s fists bunched in the skirts of her golden gown, exhaling heavily to calm herself. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “My father is going to marry Alicent. Alicent! Of all people, how could she do this to me?”

Lia reached out, placing a hand over one of Rhaenyra’s hands as it continued to ball up the silk of her dress, and squeezed gently. “It was not her choice. Her father made her.”

She realised what she had said the moment Rhaenyra recoiled from her, blue eyes widening momentarily as she snatched her hand away, as though scalded by Lia’s touch. “You knew.”

It was an accusation, not a question, and Lia could not bear the weight of it. She turned away, placing her hands in her lap as she lowered her gaze. Shame was never an emotion that Lia had worn well, and in this very moment she had never felt uglier than beneath the scrutinising stare of one of her dearest companions.

“You knew and you did not tell me,” Rhaenyra’s voice had grown quiet, voice laced with spiteful anger, the beginnings of a dragon drawing back to spew forth fire.

“It would not have made a difference if I had,” Lia admitted sadly, a look of pleading in her eyes as she finally raised her head to face her.

Rhaenyra was too far gone in her fury to be reasoned with. Her eyes narrowed in contempt as she regarded the girl next to her with something akin to hatred. “Out,” she commanded.

Lia shrank back slightly, but made no further attempt to move, her heart twisting painfully in her chest as tears of her own blurred her vision. “‘Nyra, please–”

“Out! Get out!” Rhaenyra shouted angrily, jumping to her feet and shoving forcefully at Lia. Lia stumbled backwards, grasping fruitlessly at the princess as fat, hot tears rolled down her cheeks. “Get out!”

Lia managed to duck out through the door, quickly closing it behind her just as a hair brush clattered loudly against the wood. She made no attempt to compose herself, walking quickly through the winding corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast, with a hand clasped over her mouth to muffle the sobs that forced their way out of her throat, threatening to choke her. As Lia rounded a corner, she came face to face with Alicent, her own eyes tearful as she pulled to a stop, looking utterly miserable as she stood in front of Lia.

“I am sorry,” Alicent whispered, her fingers plucking absentmindedly at her fingernails as she clasped her hands in front of her.

Lia breathed a watery sigh, lifting her eyes to the ceiling as she smoothed a hand over her curls.

Not now. Not now. Not now.

“So am I,” Lia finally told her, meeting her stare, “but right now…right now I cannot bear to look at you.”

She moved around Alicent, walking away, not trusting herself to look back, selfishly focused upon her own upset. Lia knew that the moment she looked upon her friend’s sad, vulnerable face her resolve would crumble to ash and she would shove all she felt aside to comfort her. Right at this moment she needed to wallow in her own misery, not tend to anyone else’s.

Lia wallowed for weeks, existing within the Keep as a mere spectre, mourning the loss of her friends. She knew that she should reach out to Alicent, that she must be feeling every bit as scared and sad as she was, if not more – after all, she was having to marry a man she had not asked for. But she could not bring herself to take the first step and bridge the chasm between them, the idea of doing so felt like a betrayal to Rhaenyra. She had not spoken to Rhaenyra since she had demanded that Lia leave her room, and Lia doubted that appearing to have taken Alicent’s side would shift them closer to reconciliation. She felt stuck, trapped in her own misery, and she knew that Otto Hightower was to blame – the man who had pushed his only daughter towards the king, in the pursuit of his own ambition. She avoided him as much as she could, speaking to him as little she could get away with, not trusting herself not to erupt at him just as Rhaenyra had done to her. The confusing rush of heat she felt whenever in his presence had not gone away, but it had been dwarfed by bitter resentment.

The morning of Alicent and Viserys’ wedding, Lia caught sight of Alicent as she walked past her chambers. The doors had been left open, to allow for the scurry of maidservants all coming and going as they attended to her, readying her for the ceremony.

Alicent stood elevated upon a wooden step stool, in front of a full length looking glass, draped in a backless gown of ivory lace. Her auburn curls were piled high upon her head, adorned with a high set tiara inlaid with iridescent pearls and sparkling diamonds. She looked beautiful, but it was not this that struck a chord with Lia, it was how tiny, vulnerable and alone she appeared. She still looked every bit the little girl playing at dress up, just as she had in her mother’s clothes when her courtship with the king began. But this time Lia was not left fighting the urge not to mock her, this time she wanted to offer comfort to her friend, because she looked absolutely terrified.

Lia stepped into the room, silently unapologetic as she was met by the frustrated huffs of the maidservants she pushed past in order to get to her friend. She came to stand beside her, meeting Alicent’s gaze in the reflective surface. Alicent remained upon her step stool as a stout woman knelt before her, placing hasty stitches into the hem of her dress, but she reached out an arm, draping it around Lia’s shoulders and pulled her against her waist. Lia clung tightly to her, as though grasping a lifeline after weeks of being set adrift.

“Do you hate me?” Alicent asked quietly as she continued to look at Lia in the mirror.

“You imbecile,” Lia breathed, hugging her tighter. ‘I love the bones of you.’

The ceremony itself was a tense affair. Despite the fact that the grand sept was filled to capacity with well wishers for the impending nuptials, Lia’s gaze was honed in upon Rhaenyra, who sat on the opposite side of the aisle to her. Lia could practically feel the ire radiating off of her. The princess kept her gaze fixed ahead, eyes filled with malice as she watched her father drape his cloak around Alicent’s shoulders. Her lips were drawn into a petulant pout as she kept her arms crossed around her middle.

“You ought to be watching the wedding, not the princess,” Otto leaned in to whisper to her from where sat beside her.

Lia scowled at the flush of pink that dusted across her cheekbones at the brush of his beard against the shell of her ear, and wordlessly turned to face the front. She would not grant him the privilege of her attention or her response.

She barely touched her food at the wedding feast, but the same could not be said of the wine. Seated between Otto and his son, Gwayne, at the head feasting table, Lia did not look at either of them, her attention focused solely upon the jug in front of her. She repeatedly lifted the pewter receptacle to fill her cup with Dornish red. The burn in her throat was a pleasant distraction to the misery that sat further down the table on either side of Viserys. She found the gradual lightheadedness helped her to care less about how subdued Alicent appeared, to pay no mind to Rhaenyra’s sullen face. Were it not for the jaunty tune being played by the musicians in the corner of the hall, the atmosphere could easily be mistaken for a funeral and not a wedding.

“Perhaps you might speak to Gwayne?” Otto urged gently as he leaned in to speak quietly to her. “He has traveled from Oldtown to be here today.”

“I have nothing to say to him,” she said, her tone dripping with petulant defiance, content to ignore the red headed young man beside her.

As she reached forward for the wine jug again, Otto gently grasped her wrist, staying her hand. “I think you have had enough,” he warned, the stern intonation one she was painfully familiar with.

“Allow me to respectfully disagree,” she slurred slightly, a lazy grin spreading across her face as she finally turned to look at Otto, “must you be so boring?”

“Up. Now,” Otto commanded, rising from his seat. Though he kept his voice low enough for only her to hear, the anger that blazed within her eyes as he stared expectantly down at her left no room for argument.

A stone settled in Lia’s stomach as she rose from her seat, unsteady on her feet as she followed him through a side door, into a quiet and empty passageway of the Keep.

He rounded on her as the door closed behind them, the anger in him now at a simmer instead of boiling over. “You are in your cups, and I think it best you retire for the evening, lest you embarrass yourself.”

“I am not yours to command,” Lia bit back, staring up at him defiantly, even as she swayed with the effects of the wine, her limbs feeling much too heavy to cope with the fuzziness that clouded her mind.

“Must you always be so disagreeable?” he demanded, nostrils flaring in irritation.

“Must you always ruin everything?!” she shouted back, hating the way her voice wobbled as a lump formed in her throat.

Otto furrowed his brow, eyes searching her face in confusion. “What exactly do you mean?”

Inhibitions lowered, Lia allowed the floodgates to open, hiccuping around sobs as she lunged towards Otto, slapping her hands weakly against the crushed forest green velvet of his doublet as she raged at him. “You have married Alicent to Viserys! You made her! You took away my friends! Alicent will be queen, but what of me? What of me? You have forgotten me!”

He caught her wrists, holding them tight against his chest, until the fight left her, and she slumped against chest, crying quietly. Only then did he release her, his arms coming to wrap around her, holding her gently against him. The smell of sandalwood surrounded her, soothing her, and she allowed her eyes to close as he gently stroked her hair.

“My darling girl, I could never forget you.”

His voice was the gentlest she had ever heard him sound and she pulled back slightly, her large tearful eyes meeting the soft understanding reflected in his as he looked down at her.

“I wanted to wait until the wedding was over to tell you, but it seems there is no point in delaying any longer,” he said, his hands coming to rest upon her shoulders.

“Tell me what?” Lia asked, feeling dread begin to coil within her belly.

“When Gwayne returns to Oldtown, you will go with him. The two of you are to be married.”

Otto broke the news with a prideful look upon his face, eyes glittering as he smiled down at her, as though bestowing a great gift upon her.

Lia felt the bottom fall away from her world, her heart and stomach dripping endlessly with it.

‘I do not want this. I do not want this.’

She felt as though she could not breathe, the urge to tear at her bodice to ease the restriction of her ribs became almost overwhelming. Pulling out of Otto’s grasp, Lia turned and ran, wanting to put as much distance between herself and the unwelcome news he had just delivered as possible.

For the third time in her life, Lia found herself beseeching to gods she did not believe in.

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#otto hightower x ofc #otto hightower x oc #otto hightower #otto hightower fanfiction #otto hightower fan fiction #otto hightower fan fic #otto hightower fanfic #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fic

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heart-of-ep · 1 day ago

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Elvis: Through Her Lens (Chapter One)

(Elvis Presley × OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley

Read More Here: Elvis: Through Her Lens (coming soon)

Prompt: You are Minnie Jones, an aspiring photographer working for the LA Sentinel. Your chief editor is looking for a story that will help boost the popularity of the paper, so an opportunity comes knocking when Colonel Tom Parker approaches him with a new 'snowjob.' After a tentative first meeting with the Colonel, and his star Elvis Presley, you are hired on to follow Elvis around as his personal photographer in an attempt to catch lightening in a bottle twice with the earlier success of the Alfred Wertheimer photos. Along the way, you develop a close bond with Elvis, leading to complications in your relationship when the issues of his marriage and eventual drug usage start to put a strain on your relationship. Constantly fighting your ever-growing feelings for him, you are swept up into the whirlwind of Elvis' world, which forces you to see the King of Rock 'n' Roll through a new lens.

Tags: Slow burn. Angst. Drama. Friends to lovers (sort of).

Rating: PG-13 (ish) (may get spicy but won't be explicit as I don't enjoy writing smut lol but cursing, possible violence, prescription drug use, and infidelity will appear throughout the story.)

Word Count: 3.6k

Author's Note: Hey everyone! My name is Mari (aka heart.of.ep on here and Instagram!) and I'm so excited to finally be diving into the world of Elvis fanfiction after being a hard-core fan for almost three years now. This is my first time writing in a long while, and it's only my second time writing a fanfiction, so I hope I'm able to entertain you with this story and I hope everyone has a fun time reading it!

I did create an OC for this story as I have an easier time writing with a specific character in mind, but I kept it in second person as to give readers the opportunity to self insert in a way. Wasn't a fan of this POV at first but its really grown on me so hopefully I've done it well haha.

This story will begin by following Elvis in 1970 (my favorite year 🤭) but will continue on throughout the early 1970s! There may be some historical inaccuracies along the way to accommodate the presence of Minnie Jones, but of course I'm always striving to keep things as accurate as I possibly can.

I don't think I will have a specific upload schedule or regular time for posting, but I'll try my best to be as frequent as I can with uploading chapters. Any comments, thoughts, reblogs, etc are very much appreciated and I genuinely hope everyone loves this story as much as I do. 🙏

If you'd like to be tagged in any chapters going forward, just comment and let me know!

Thank you once again and I hope everyone enjoys!

February, 1970

Los Angeles, CA

~*~*~*~*~*~

Elvis Presley.

The most photographed man in the world, and for good reason it seemed. Impossibly blue eyes that swirled like the depth of an ocean, statuesque like features that even a Greek god would most likely be jealous of, and a brilliant smile that sent millions of girls and women all around the world into a complete frenzy whenever he flashed it their way.

It made perfect sense then why his face was pretty much plastered on every magazine you ever came in contact with. Not to mention the various movie posters you would often see at the theater throughout the years. You could even recall being just about twelve years old when Love Me Tender first hit theaters. Even at such a young age, you could see why everyone sitting around you in that dark theater were either crying or screaming. His beauty seemed to transcend the realm of normal.

As hyperbolic as it may seem, no one in the world looked like Elvis Presley, that much was certain.

Unfortunately, while many photos exist, most are heavily curated, either on a movie set or in a studio with lighting and makeup. It didn't make him any less beautiful, but it did give the fans and the public a very specific view of the King, one controlled by Hollywood and his manager, Colonel Tom Parker.

In the early days, there were hundreds of photos of Elvis that appeared in newspapers from fans and those photographers who were lucky enough to capture a picture of lightning in a bottle. But those days were far gone, and nothing like it has surfaced since.

And that's exactly why you had been brought to your editor's office early one morning in February of 1970. You had been busy working on gathering photos for a local political campaign, which was a real bore, but someone had to do it and you didn't exactly have the seniority to say no. But when your manager called you about a new project, you were practically chomping at the bit to accept. Of course, you wanted to hear him out first.

“You've been doing great work, Minnie. These shots are truly some of the best this paper has seen in a while.” Your editor, Mr Pierce, said as he looked over the pictures you had submitted this morning.

“Thank you, sir. Though, I think there's only so much I can do to make a rally look interesting.” You said jokingly.

Your boss snorted. “You're right about that.” He sighed before sitting the folder down on his desk. “Which is exactly why I called you here. I think your talents are being wasted on shit like this.” He said bluntly. Your boss never did sugarcoat. “I was recently brought an opportunity from a rather…private sort of individual, and I think you would be the perfect fit.”

You raised an eyebrow, now rather curious. Usually your paper only covered public events or individuals. “Who exactly is it?”

Pierce seemed hesitant at first to tell you, but eventually he decided to just come right out and say it. “Elvis Presley.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. "Elvis Presley?” You weren’t sure if you had cotton in your ears or if maybe you were imagining it, but Pierce noticed your surprise and quickly added some context to explain.

“Yes, Elvis Presley. I can’t say I had a very different reaction when his manager called me a couple days ago.” He said as he sat down in the chair behind his desk. “I’m sure you know that Mr Presley has been taking a step back into live performances this past year, which means every photographer worth a damn is chomping at the bit to capture the ‘best’ photo of him possible for their respective news outlet. So far they’ve been doing a damn good job. Meanwhile, we’ve got nothing.” He grumbled in frustration. “Needless to say, Presley is the hottest talk in town, and we’re failing to keep up.”

You furrowed your brow a bit. “I don’t understand…why did his manager contact us?” If there were already dozens of papers covering Elvis’s shows from all across the world, then why contact a somewhat small paper in Los Angeles?

Pierce seemed to light up at your question. “I had the same question, my dear.” He stood up again, unable to sit still. “Are you familiar with Alfred Wertheimer?”

The name was instantly recognizable. Any real photographer knew of Wertheimer’s work, especially if you knew anything about Elvis Presley. “Of course I know about him. His work with Presley is still amazing even now.” You said, trying your best to keep your adulation in check.

“Well, no photo of Elvis Presley has been taken like that since Wertheimer almost fifteen years ago.” He frowned a bit. “Seems as though his manager,” and apparent publicist, “wants to change that. With all this new buzz surrounding Presley, he wants to see if he can capture lightning in a bottle twice.”

It quickly began to dawn on you what this all meant exactly. “Shit.” You muttered under your breath.

Perhaps Alfred Wertheimer didn’t mean much to the uninitiated, but the photographs of Elvis were completely unprecedented. Just at the cusp of fame and without the glitz and glamor that would soon overtake him in Hollywood, Wertheimer was able to capture a view of Elvis that was both intimate, but also honest and revealing in a way that didn’t feel voyeuristic in the slightest. It was the picture and story of an Elvis Presley that still felt entirely obtainable and human. It was truly a special form of artistic expression that only a photographer with a great deal of talent could accomplish.

Which is precisely why you were sitting there staring at your boss like he had completely lost his mind. “S-sir...you’re not suggesting that I…?”

Pierce smiled at you and nodded. “I knew immediately that you’d be the perfect candidate, my dear. After all, it was your photos covering the Nixon inauguration that sparked Mr Parker’s curiosity to begin with.”

You practically felt your heart leap in your chest, leaving you utterly speechless for a long moment. This was definitely a step up from a local mayoral campaign.

The prospect of photographing someone as famous as Elvis Presley was exciting on its own, but from how your boss explained it, this wouldn’t be a simple snap and go for a quick column on page four of the paper. To compare it to Wertheimer’s work made you realize just how important this opportunity was. This side of Elvis hadn’t been captured in over a decade, and no doubt it would catapult your career towards opportunities you’ve only ever dreamed of covering.

“Well?” Pierce’s voice snaps you from your thoughts. “Of course, we would still have to meet with Mr Parker and Mr Presley.” He said as he sat back down in his chair.

You parted your lips, not sure what to say at first before you finally pushed your excitement down and immediately stood up. “Well? Of course I want to!” You said, practically grinning from ear to ear. “Jesus, Pierce, this is amazing!”

He smirked a bit. “I take it you’re an Elvis fan?”

You rolled your eyes. “Everyone likes Elvis, but that’s not what matters. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” You had to stop yourself from jumping with joy.

He laughed a little before standing up again as he dialed a number on his phone. “Presley just finished up his current residency in Las Vegas. According to Parker he’ll be back here in Los Angeles before leaving for a string of concerts in Houston.” He held the phone up to his ear. “We can plan a meeting between you two beforehand. After all, this whole thing is dependent on Elvis Presley liking you enough to let you follow him around.”

You felt your smile dissipate a little at that realization. You hadn’t exactly considered that part in the few minutes you had to think about everything. You were charming enough, but this was Elvis Presley. Enough wouldn’t cut it. You swallowed a bit, but nodded, ignoring the sudden flurry of nerves that swarmed in your stomach.

This is your one shot, Minn. Don’t screw this up.

The next few hours felt like a whirlwind. You spent the majority of that time researching anything and everything about Elvis Presley. As it turns out, a lot had happened since his pictorial debut in Love Me Tender. You hadn’t exactly been keeping up with his career, and now all of it seemed a bit overwhelming. You weren’t sure what to expect from a man like him, especially since any other celebrity you had the opportunity to meet usually turned out to be a total asshole. You didn’t think he would be any different. After all, the humble southerner with perfect manners and an award winning smile just felt too good to be true.

You flipped through a magazine from the stack on your desk, biting your lip in concentration as you read over the raving reviews from Elvis’ previous engagement at the International Hotel in Vegas last summer. You vaguely remember one of your girlfriends at the time mentioning it in passing, but you hadn’t thought much of it. Now you wondered if you were completely insane for having overlooked the entire thing.

The photos of him were truly magnificent, picturing him in a slim fitting two piece jumpsuit that seemed inspired by the style of a karate gi. It alternated between black and white depending on the night of the show, and you couldn’t help but think about how well the black complemented his dark chiseled features. It was a much different look than his earlier appearances throughout the sixties. The greased back hair was now loose and untamed, a reflection of the evolving style in the entertainment world, and the button ups and blazers now seemed to be replaced by a bare chested look accompanied by a stylish scarf around the neck.

Quite frankly, it was hard not to get caught up in the image of him, but you quickly reminded yourself that even though he was Elvis Presley, world famous superstar, he was also just a subject for you to photograph at the end of the day.

A very beautiful subject, indeed.

You practically chewed off all of your fingernails by the time Pierce came out of his office in the early afternoon, approaching your desk with an optimistic look in his eyes. “Good news, Minn, it looks like you’ll be meeting Elvis Presley tonight.”

Your heart leaped in your chest as you stood up from your desk, prying your eyes away from the papers on your desk. “Really? He agreed to the meeting?”

“He sure did, though I doubt that manager gave him much of a choice.” He snorted. “A real carny, that one, but it’ll all be worth it if we can secure this job. Our paper will practically fly off the stands if you can snap those photos.” He grinned.

“Right, no pressure.” You mumbled, trying to ease your growing anxiety as you imagined all the ways this could possibly go wrong.

“Don’t worry, Minn. You’re charming and pretty. Knowing Presley’s reputation, that’ll surely be enough.” He smirked, nudging you a bit before turning on his heel toward his office.

You shot him a glare before letting out a deep breath as you quickly gathered up your portfolio, shoving the photographs inside the binder before standing up and pulling your coat on. You refused to let your nerves get the best of you, after all, this is your job. And as such, you weren’t going to let this opportunity slip through your fingers.

The ride over to Beverly Hills felt long and seemingly endless. You kept staring out the window, focusing your gaze on the large mansions that you drove past, frowning as you realized just how out of your league you really felt. After all, you hadn’t exactly been to this side of LA. The few times you had gotten the chance to photograph a celebrity, it had always been at some sort of public event like an awards show or some kind of charity fundraiser. This, however, felt like a strange new world that you were entering.

You briefly wondered why Elvis and his manager didn’t just come down to the office to conduct this whole ‘interview’ or set up a meeting somewhere on Sunset Blvd, but when you asked Pierce about it, he simply explained the logistics of having Elvis Presley go somewhere so public. You didn’t think much of it, assuming that since it’s Los Angeles nobody would care very much about a celebrity walking around, but then you recalled the different articles you had read and figured maybe Elvis didn’t quite fit into that category.

You chewed on your fingernails, watching as the mansions grew larger before you finally descended upon a set of cast iron gates blocking a long driveway that kept a house just out of view. Much to your surprise, there was a fairly large group of fans already stationed outside, giggling amongst themselves as they took photos with their polaroid cameras. You glanced at Pierce, giving him a skeptical look to which he simply shrugged. He pulled up to the gates, and without having to push a doorbell of any kind, the gates buzzed and suddenly opened up, the crowd of fans quickly dispersing out of the way.

It surprised you to see that they didn’t try following the car inside, but they stayed respectful and stuck to the exterior as the gates closed shut behind you and Pierce pulled forward, parking his car next to a small, but impressive, collection of Cadillacs. You figured if everything fell through with Elvis, maybe he’d be okay with you snapping a few photos of his cars as a consolation gift.

Once again, you pushed down the flurry of nerves that settled in your stomach, realizing it was stupid to feel so nervous over a simple meeting. After all, it’s not like you were the one who set the whole thing up, if they weren’t really interested, they wouldn’t have gone through all of this trouble. That thought helped qualm the uneasiness you felt as you stepped out of the car, looking up at the gorgeous home that overlooked the rolling hills below.

It really did feel like the perfect place for a superstar like Elvis to live.

“Come on, Miss Jones, we’re about to make history.” Pierce grinned as he took the lead, following the brick pathway up to the front door of the mansion.

You self consciously kept messing with your hair, tucking the loose strands behind your ear and pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose as you anxiously awaited for the door to open. When the door opened, you and Pierce were met by a rather short fellow with a goofy smile.

“Mr Pierce?” The man in front of you inquired.

Your boss nodded and smiled. “Yes, and this is my associate Miss Jones.” He said as he gestured toward you. “I believe Mr Parker is expecting us?”

The fellow nodded and smiled again as he quickly stepped aside to let the two of you in. “Right this way.” He closed the door behind him and then led you down the long hallway that acted as the entranceway before spilling out into a rather lavishly decorated and open floor plan. You briefly considered how many rooms the house had before realizing it was probably too many to count from this juncture.

“The Colonel is waiting in the office.” The man said, interrupting your thoughts as he led you and Pierce down another hall towards a beautiful sculpted oak door.

“What about Mr Presley?” You asked without thinking.

“Elvis will be down shortly.” He replied, once again with a lopsided grin before he knocked on the door to the office and pushed it open. “Colonel? Those two journalists from the Los Angeles Sentinel are here.”

“Send them in.” You heard a strange sounding voice say from inside the office.

The man stepped aside, letting Pierce and you step into the room. Your gaze immediately fell upon the robust man sitting at the desk, a large almost comical sized cigar sticking out of his mouth, and a stylish looking barét that clashed with the rest of his ensemble. His steely gaze landed on both you and Pierce the moment you stepped into the room, regarding the two of you with a frown before he removed his cigar and put it out in the ash tray.

Pierce glanced at you, giving a look that said more than enough, before looking at the somewhat unsettling man. “Uh, you must be Mr Parker–”

“Colonel.” The man huffed, his accent a strange mix of southern and something else you couldn't quite identify.

“Excuse me?” Pierce asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Colonel Tom Parker.” The man repeated himself before smiling, though it seemed off and not at all genuine.

Pierce cleared his throat. “Right. Colonel Parker. My name is Steven Pierce, I'm the editor of the LA Sentinel. We spoke over the phone a few times.” He said before gesturing to you. “This is my associate, Minnie Jones. She's one of my best photographers and the one responsible for the portfolio I sent you.” He explained.

The Colonel glanced your way, regarding you for a long moment. If you weren't self conscious already, you certainly were now, but you refused to let yourself show how nervous you were.

“Hi, it's a pleasure to meet you.” You said, stepping forward and extending your hand for him to shake.

The Colonel snorted, which struck you immediately as rude, but he shook your hand regardless. You did your best to hide your frown, making sure this man didn't pick up on your displeasure at his general demeanor. “I have to say, Miss Jones, I'm quite impressed with your photos here.” He said as he sat back in his seat, opening up a binder in front of him. “I can't say I was super eager at the idea of someone following my boy around, least of all someone working for a lousy tabloid. But it seems like any publicity is good publicity, my dear.”

You glanced at Pierce for a moment, quickly registering the anger that flashed across his face, before cutting in. “Yes, well…I think this could be very beneficial for Mr Presley. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words. And with all due respect, the LA Sentinel is a newspaper, not a tabloid. We just want to publish the truth, not lies.” You said calmly.

"Truth is subjective.” The Colonel shot back. “But it's true that my boy needs some good publicity. After all, a good thing can't last forever.” He said before standing up. “I'll make it simple for you, Miss Jones. All photos taken must be submitted and approved by me before printing. If I find out they're not, you won't have a story to tell anymore.” He said bluntly.

You swallowed a bit before nodding.

“Secondly, Elvis appreciates his privacy as you might imagine, so you will be working according to his schedule and his requests. Simply put, if he doesn't want you there, you won't be there.” He said as he picked up his cigar and stuck it back between his lips.

That's when Pierce cut in. “With all due respect, Colonel, my employee isn’t going to work at the whim of your client. This is still a job at the end of the day.” You shoot him a glare, not wanting him to ruin the opportunity for you, even if you knew he was right.

“Don't worry, Mr Peers,” The Colonel said, purposely mispronouncing his name, “Miss Jones will be accommodated, but if you two want the story you're looking for, you'll have to work with my boy’s fluctuating schedule.” He explained. “That won't be a problem, will it?”

Before Pierce could say anything, you stepped forward. “Of course not. I'm sure we can work with whatever his schedule may be.” You said firmly.

“Good.” The Colonel smiled, much to Pierce's chagrin. “We’ll write up a proper contract with all the logistics before you leave, but I think now is a great time for you to meet Elvis.”

Suddenly all your nerves instantly returned, but before you had much time to even think about what was happening, the Colonel was walking out the door and down the hall. Both you and Pierce quickly followed, keeping with his surprisngly fast pace as he limped with his cane towards the living room area you had passed by earlier.

“Minn, are you sure about this?” Pierce hissed by your ear as he leaned over to you. “This isn't exactly what I thought you were signing up for.”

You looked up at him, biting your lip for a second before nodding, standing firm with your decision. “C’mon, Pierce. We both know this is too good to pass up.” You whispered before the three of you entered the room.

The man who had let you into the house earlier was there with a couple of other guys you hadn't seen. You saw that Elvis wasn't there, frowning a bit as you folded your arms and looked at the Colonel. “Where's Mr Presley?” You asked, feeling a little impatient and maybe a little excited.

“Right here, honey.”

You froze, goosebumps rolling over your skin for some inexplicable reason, as if some kind of force you didn't recognize had suddenly entered the room. You slowly turned around, coming face to face with the most famous man in the world.

Shit.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list ~

Taglist: @60svintage @moonchild-daniella @ken-kenzie-zie

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis aaron presley #ep #tcb #graceland #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #elvis × reader #elvis × oc #elvis in vegas #elvis fan #elvis through her lens

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kotegiris · 2 days ago

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[2024 Birthday Card Story - Lamli] No Matter Which Side of Me

another request! hope you enjoy it anon! again, thank you to my friend who shared this card with me

Chapters 1 & 2

Chapter 1

-The day before Lamli’s birthday-

It has become the season where the sunlight is dazzling… And Lamli’s birthday is coming up tomorrow.

For the butlers’ birthday this year… I already decided what to give them as a present.

A ring for the pinky finger…

A “pinky ring.”

Apparently, wearing a ring on the pinky finger will “prevent happiness from escaping.”

With that meaning in mind… I prepared a ring embedded with a small labradorite gemstone for Lamli.

Then, I made preparations for the opportunity to hand him the ring… And wrote him a letter.

“Let’s have dinner together on your birthday.”

After the butlers went to bed… I placed the letter in front of the 3rd floor butlers’ room…

That night I fell asleep while looking forward to Lamli’s reaction after he reads the letter.

-The day of Lamli’s birthday-

Knock, knock…

Lamli: Aruji-sama. Can I come in?

> Yeah. > Come in.

Opens

Lamli: Good morning, Aruji-sama!

> Morning, Lamli.

Lamli: Thank you for the letter!

> Did you read it yet?

Lamli: Yes! Of course I did! Thanks to your letter, I’ve been feeling super happy since this morning.

Lamli: Thank you very much.

> I’m glad you’re happy.

Lamli: Fufu, so…

Lamli: According to your letter… We’ll be having dinner together today, right?

Lamli: Could you tell me more about that?

I explained to Lamli.

I told him that this whole day is for him…

We'll go out somewhere together and enjoy his birthday to the fullest…

And finally, we’ll have dinner together.

For dinner, we can decide where we want to go.

I told him that since it’s his birthday, I want him to enjoy himself without holding back.

> Don’t worry about anything and enjoy your birthday. > Let’s eat your favorite foods.

Lamli: W-Wow… I can have Aruji-sama all to myself today…

Lamli: That’s the best news ever!

Lamli: What should I do… I wanted to make you smile lots today, but…

Lamli: I’m the one who ended up smiling so much. I’m so happy…

> If you’re smiling, then I’m also happy.

Lamli: Aruji-sama…

Lamli: …Geez, you’re too lovely!

Lamli: Fufu ♪ Today I can have Aruji-sama all to myself, and we can go out together…

Lamli: This will be the best day ever!

> Do you have somewhere you want to go?

Lamli: Huh? Is it okay for me to decide?

> Of course. > Let’s go where you want to go.

Lamli: Actually, there’s a place I’ve been wanting to go to with you!

Lamli: There’s a show that just opened recently…

Lamli: It seems like you can see stars there even in the daytime!

> Stars in the daytime?

Lamli: Yeah. I’m not exactly sure how since I’ve only heard rumors, but…

Lamli: From the moment I heard about it, I thought of you… I’ve been wanting to go there together with you!

Lamli: Aruji-sama, would you… Go together with me to see the daytime stars?

> Of course. > Let’s go!

Lamli: Thank you, Aruji-sama.

Lamli: Fufu. I don’t know what kind of stars we’ll see in the daytime, but…

Lamli: Just seeing it together with you… Will make it the best starry sky ever!

Lamli: Then, I’ll go back to my room and get ready to head out!

Lamli: When I’m done, I’ll let you know!

And thus… We decided to momentarily split up to get ready to go out.

-A little later-

Knock, knock…

Lamli: Aruji-sama, I’m done. Can I come in?

> Yeah. > Come in.

Opens

Lamli: Excuse me.

After I finished getting ready, Lamli came inside my room once again.

However… When he opened the door, I saw that he was wearing a different outfit from before.

> That outfit is…

Lamli: Fufu ♪ How do I look, Aruji-sama?

Lamli: It’s this year’s birthday outfit!

Lamli: How is it? Do I look good?

> It looks really good on you.

Lamli: Fufu. Thank you ♪

Lamli: Ever since I got this outfit I’ve been wanting to show it to you.

Lamli: I’m happy I finally got to let you see it ♪

Lamli: Then… Let’s go to the venue!

Lamli: It seems like you can see the daytime stars at the theater in Espoir!

And so… In the carriage that Lamli prepared, we headed to the theater.

【 Espoir - A Certain Theater】

Some time later… The carriage stopped in front of a bustling theater.

Lamli: It seems like the starry sky is on the basement floor here.

Lamli: Looking at the starry sky in the basement… It’s a bit exciting, isn’t it?

Lamli: I wonder what it’s like.

> I’m looking forward to it.

After going to the receptionist… The person in charge guided us to the venue.

Lamli: Woah~... It’s a bit cold going down these stairs.

Lamli: It feels nice since it was hot outside.

Lamli: But you might get cold. Aruji-sama, are you alright?

> I’m alright.

Lamli: Then, I’m glad.

Lamli: But let me know if you get cold!

I’ll go tell a worker and borrow a coat for you!

> Thanks.

The venue we were led to was pitch black, and I could barely see anything around me.

But from the buzz of people, I knew that there were quite a lot of guests here.

Lamli: Aruji-sama, it’s dark, so please watch your step.

Lamli: Oh, I know! Aruji-sama, excuse me for a little!

Saying that…. Lamli gently took my hand.

> Huh?

Lamli: Fufu, this is safer ♪

Lamli: The venue is dark and dangerous, so… In the meantime, can we hold hands?

> Y-Yeah.

And so, while holding hands, we looked for our seats.

Lamli: Ah, there it is! These are our seats!

Lamli: Aruji-sama! Please take a seat!

> Thank you.

Even after we sat down, Lamli made no move to let go of my hand.

While feeling the warmth of Lamli’s hand… I patiently waited for the show to start.

Step… step… step…

From the wing of the stage, a man came out and bowed gracefully.

Announcer: Welcome. Thank you for coming, everyone. I will now take you to the sea of stars.

At the man’s signal… The dark surroundings instantly changed to a starry sky.

Lamli: Wow! There really are stars!

> (It’s like a planetarium…)

Lamli: It instantly became a starry sky… I wonder how they did that.

Announcer: First, please take a look at the brightest star on the northern side…

Announcer: It’s a star that has continued to be in the center of other stars for thousands of years…

Announcer: That star guides travelers and is also known as the guardian star of the Grovaner family, who have been protecting mankind.

Lamli: Fufu… Isn’t it pretty, Aruji-sama?

> Yeah, it really is.

Lamli: …Ah, that star… Aruji-sama, do you know what that star on the right is?

> Which one?

Lamli: That one over there…

Saying that, Lamli pointed at it.

But… As if he remembered that we were still holding hands…

He only moved his hand slightly and then went back to holding my hand.

> …Lamli?

Lamli: …Fufu. We should be quiet now since the show’s starting.

Lamli: Sorry, Aruji-sama.

When Lamli said that… He had a cheerful and tender smile.

Then… he lightly squeezed my hand.

I knew that I should be focusing on the stars, but… I couldn’t help myself from focusing on the feeling of his hand holding mine.

Chapter 2

-A little later-

Mesmerized by the beautiful starlight… The show came to an end.

Lamli: Aruji-sama~! That was amazing!

> It was pretty.

Lamli: It was my first time seeing stars that close up!

Lamli: Being able to see stars during the daytime and in a basement… It was so exciting!

Lamli: It was really pretty… How did they do that?

> Hm~....

Lamli: I’m a bit curious…

Lamli: Ah! Why don’t we go ask the announcer?

Lamli: I saw him go that way. If we go after him now, we can still catch up and ask him!

> Let’s go.

Lamli: Fufu. I thought you’d say that ♪

So we decided to go after the announcer.

Lamli: Ah, there he is!

Lamli: Hey! Announcer~!

After going into the hallway and walking a little… We found the middle-aged man who gave the explanation for the showing.

Lamli walked up to him and began to talk about his thoughts on the showing.

Lamli: The starry sky earlier was so pretty!

Lamli: The location of the stars was pretty much on point too… …There were some that were a little off, though.

Lamli: But it was really amazing! Hey, just how did you do that?

> Lamli, let’s calm down a little.

Announcer: Thank you for your compliments. You’re very knowledgeable about the stars.

Lamli: Yeah! I love stars!

Announcer: Fufu, I see.

Lamli: So… How did you do it?

Announcer: Hm… Normally, I cannot reveal that, but…

Announcer: Your honest feedback made me happy.

Announcer: …As a special service… Let me tell you the basics of the method.

Lamli: Yay! You’re a good person!

Announcer: Fufu, thank you very much. …Now then, about the method…

Announcer: It’s actually not that complicated.

Then, the announcer explained to us the basics of it.

Lamli: Heh~ So that’s how.

Lamli: That’s a very smart way. I look at stars a lot, but I’ve never thought of that~

Announcer: Fufu… Thank… you…

Announcer: I am honored… By your… compliments…

After the announcer answered Lamli’s question… He suddenly became unsteady.

Announcer: Ug…

Lamli: W-Woah. Are you okay?

> He doesn’t look okay.

Lamli: Yeah, he looks a bit sick.

Lamli: …Hey, are you alright?

Announcer: I-I’m alright. My apologies for causing you to worry.

Lamli: But you’re swaying a lot.

Announcer: ……..Recently, this show has been gradually becoming more popular… I’ve had to be on stage for longer.

Announcer: I knew it had been taking a toll on my body, so… I decided to have a stand-in starting today, but…

Announcer: …They’re running a little late.

Announcer: I have one more show left to do before my substitute comes… I just have to endure it a little more.

Lamli: B-But… It doesn’t seem like your body can handle one more show.

> It’d be better for you to rest…

Announcer: …The show’s finally gotten popular. I can’t cancel it now.

Lamli: Hmm~... That’s true, but…

Lamli: At this rate, you’ll collapse…

> What should we do…

Lamli: Hmm~~~…… …………

Lamli: …I know!

Lamli: I’ll do the show for you! In the meantime, you should get some rest.

> Lamli?

Announcer: What!? B-But…

Lamli: If it’s explaining the stars, then there’s no need to worry! You saw how knowledgeable I am about it earlier, right?

Announcer: C-Can I really leave it to you?

Lamli: Yup ♪ You explained to me how it works earlier, so…

Lamli: As thanks, I’ll do the show for you once as your substitute.

Announcer: T-Then… I will accept your kind offer.

Lamli: Fufu ♪ Leave it to me!

Lamli: I said that, but… Sorry for just deciding on my own, Aruji-sama…

Lamli: But… I can’t leave him alone when he’s about to collapse…

Lamli: I know I’m being selfish, but… Could you go along with it for a little?

> Uhm……

I thought it was very nice of Lamli to want to help the announcer, and I knew that he was very knowledgeable about the stars.

However… I had something else that I was concerned about…

He’s always very energetic, so I wondered if he could create a mellow atmosphere for the show…

I couldn’t get rid of my worries.

> Will you really be okay?

Lamli: I’ll be fine! We saw the show earlier, so I know what kind of mood I need to make.

Lamli: And I know which stars I need to give an explanation for!

He answered, brimming with self-confidence.

I thought it would be rude to keep worrying over him, so I decided to believe in him and leave it to him.

> Do your best, Lamli!

Lamli: I will! Thank you for believing in me, Aruji-sama!

Lamli: I’ll do it properly until the very end, so… Don’t worry and just watch me from the audience!

> Got it.

Then, the announcer guided Lamli backstage.

I sat down in the same seat as before and waited for Lamli’s show to start.

While I nervously looked around the dark venue…

The sound of elegant and light footsteps resounded in the dark.

Lamli: Welcome. Thank you for coming, everyone. I will now take you to the sea of stars.

> (That… Is that really Lamli’s voice?)

Lamli, who had a different air to him than usual, gracefully bowed.

At that moment… My surroundings were instantly enveloped in a starry sky.

Lamli: First…

Lamli: Everyone, please take a look at the brightly shining Big Dipper on your right.

Lamli: Because of its bright shine… It has been passed down for generations as a constellation that resembles a certain person’s weapon…

Lamli: That’s right… It’s the person that we all give thanks to during Thanksgiving, Goetia-sama.

Lamli: According to the legend…

Lamli: Thousands of years ago… Goetia-sama protected this land from the angels all by himself.

Lamli: He was loved and respected by the people.

Lamli: It is said that after Goetia-sama passed… Out of respect and devotion, the people created this constellation for him.

> (Lamli’s amazing…) > (I can’t help but be drawn to his explanation…)

Lamli: And on the other side is…

Without any mistakes… Lamli elegantly continued explaining.

Despite my concerns… The show ended without any issues.

The guests left the venue looking satisfied.

Lamli: Aruji-sama! How was I? Did I do well?

> You were perfect. > You were amazing.

Lamli: Really? Yaay!

After the show ended, Lamli immediately went over to me.

Without a doubt… It was the usual cheerful him.

Announcer: Thank you very much for doing the show in my stead.

Announcer: Thanks to you, the show was able to go on without any cancellations. How could I ever repay you?

Announcer: I know! There’s still a little bit of time left before the next show.

Announcer: I’ll fully reserve the venue for just the two of you until then. Please take your time and gaze at the stars all you like.

Lamli: What!? Really?! Yaay!

> Thank you.

Lamli: Fufu, I’m so happy ♪

Lamli: …Earlier I was giving an explanation to all the guests, but… Actually, I wanted to give an explanation to only you.

Lamli: Aruji-sama… Could you leave it to me to tell you about the stars?

> Of course. > Please do.

Lamli: Thank you, Aruji-sama!

Lamli: Then… Let’s hurry before the next show starts!

> Yeah.

And so we decided to return to the venue to gaze at the stars again.

Lamli: Look! That’s the froggie constellation!

Lamli: Ah! Do you know what’s over there?

Lamli: If you connect the brightest stars together… It becomes the Aruji-sama constellation!

Lamli was telling me, not about this world’s constellations, but… His original ones that he came up with.

> Uhm… Which star is it?

Lamli: That one, Aruji-sama!

Lamli: …Ah, I know. Excuse me for a little!

Saying that, Lamli took my hand and pointed at the star.

Lamli: That star! Do you see it?

> Y-Yeah…

Lamli: Fufu… Then, next is…

> Lamli, our hands…

Saying that I looked at our joined hands…

Lamli looked as if he just got caught pulling a trick and gave me a small smile.

Lamli: …Aruji-sama… Can’t we keep holding hands like this?

Lamli: At the first show, we had to be quiet, and I couldn’t explain anything to you like how I am now, but…

Lamli: This time, I want to directly tell you about the stars while holding your hand.

Lamli: It’s just us here, so no one will see…

Lamli: So can’t I? Is it no good, Aruji-sama?

> That’s…

Lamli patiently stared at me, and I couldn’t refuse him…

I felt my heart beat faster and timidly nodded.

> …Alright, let’s keep holding hands.

Lamli: Fufu… Thank you, Aruji-sama ♪

This was my third show of the day… My heart raced at feeling Lamli’s warmth…

We enjoyed a very happy and fun time.

-A little later-

Our small and private show came to an end… And we arrived at a restaurant with a stylish feel.

The seats were all private rooms, so there was no need to worry about the gaze of other people.

We were able to freely enjoy a delicious dinner and take our time looking back on today.

Lamli: The star show… It was so amazing!

> Yeah, it was.

Lamli: We were able to see so many stars even though it was daytime.

Lamli: I heard the rumors, but… I was surprised at how beautiful it was in person.

Lamli excitedly talked about the show. Seeing Lamli’s smile…

I thought that now would be a good time to give him his birthday present.

> Hey, Lamli?

Lamli: Yes? What is it, Aruji-sama?

> For you.

I took out a small box from my bag.

Of course, inside the box was… The pinky ring I wanted to give him.

Lamli: Is this… a birthday present?

> Yup.

Lamli: I didn’t think you’d go out of your way to prepare a present for me…

Lamli: You spending the whole day with me today was already the best birthday present…

Lamli: I’m so happy; I think I’m gonna cry.

Lamli: Aruji-sama… Thank you.

Lamli: Uhm… Can I open it now?

> Of course. > Open it.

After getting permission from me, Lamli immediately opened the box.

Upon opening the lid… The mysterious shine of the labradorite poured out from within.

Then, I explained to him about the birthday present.

I decided to give the butlers a pinky ring for their birthdays because…

I wish for each and every butler’s everlasting happiness…

And… The reason why I chose to have Lamli’s ring embedded with labradorite is because…

Labradorite is said to be a mysterious stone with a beautiful and deep shine that changes depending on the angle it’s viewed from…

I thought it was like Lamli since the more time I spend with him, the more different and charming sides of him I see.

I told Lamli everything.

Lamli: …Charming?

Lamli: You think that someone like me is charming?

> Don’t say “someone like me.”

Lamli: Huh…

> You’re very charming.

The usual cheerful Lamli and the calm Lamli that I saw today at the show…

All of him is charming… I straightforwardly told him that.

Lamli: The me today…too?

> That’s right.

Lamli: I see… …So you like me when I’m calm too.

> Of course I do.

Lamli: …Thank you, Aruji-sama.

Lamli: ……Uhm… Aruji-sama…

Lamli: Between the calm me from today and the cheerful me… Which one do you like more?

> Huh?

Lamli: I…

Lamli: I want to live as the me you like more…

> …Which one is more comfortable for you, Lamli?

Lamli: Huh? More comfortable…?

> I don’t want you to force yourself.

Lamli: Aruji-sama… You really do care about me.

> Because you’re precious to me.

Lamli: …You’re too kind, Aruji-sama.

Lamli: …But… You don’t need to worry; I’m okay.

Lamli: If I’m able to have your love… Being either side of me isn’t tough.

Lamli: As long as you love me… I can be either one.

> Lamli…

Lamli: So please… Pick one, Aruji-sama.

Lamli: Between the calm me and the cheerful me… Which one do you like more?

> There’s no need for me to choose.

Lamli: Huh?

> Both sides are you after all.

Lamli: Aruji-sama… But…

Between the cheerful Lamli and the calm Lamli… I can’t pick one.

Both sides are precious to me because they’re both a part of Lamli.

> I love all of you.

Lamli: Aruji-sama…

Lamli: …Thank you. …I’m so, so happy…

Lamli: Fufu, me too…

Lamli: Your kindness and warmth… I…… love all of you too.

Lamli smiled, but it wasn’t his usual smile that was bright like the sun… It was an earnest and peaceful smile that was like the stars.

> Happy birthday, Lamli.

Lamli: …Thank you, Aruji-sama.

Lamli: I’m truly glad that I met you.

Lamli: I’m truly glad that I was born…

The lively Lamli and the mature Lamli…

And whatever other sides he may have… Lamli is a precious person to me.

Whatever may happen, that fact won’t change.

With those feelings in mind… From the bottom of my heart, I wished him a happy birthday.

END

#akuneko #aknk #devil butler with black cat #akuneko translations #card story #lamli bennett #the lamli fans really won with this one #im losing my mind #ive been debating and decided to change the title from you -> me

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echoingbirdsofprey · 3 days ago

Text

Back Forty View (On Our Piece Of Ground)

8 - You Had Me From That First Hello

Pairings: Tyler Owens x OFC Georgia Tennley-Owens, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: nothing spectacular just some raunchy language from Jake and Tyler and pregnancy/baby talk

A/N: This chapter and the next are kind of a jumble of stuff because Jake and Sam need to go back to California soon and figure some things out lol. Nothing special with this one just lots of pregnancy/baby talk! Thank y'all for continuing to read! Hope you enjoy! Gifs by @kaizsche, pictures from Pinterest! As always likes, comments, reblogs, etc. are so so appreciated! This one has some song notes through out so hit play on those for the full experience!

Tags: @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @gpsmississippihippie @dizzybee03 @barnesboo1967 @coloraturadiva @kmc1989

It always ended the same way. Tyler and Jake would go for a short drive, out in the back forty and listen to whatever music they had on hand. This particular time, Jake had graduated Top Gun, top of his class and he’d come home to tell Kenny, Jeanie, and Tyler in person. They were going to celebrate later on, but not before the boys had their own little festivities, which included a jaunt through the wilds of Arkansas in Tyler’s new truck. Tyler had just gotten a beautiful red Dodge dually, diesel, 3500. Bone stock, but Jake knew that his brother was about to modify the shit out of it. After Jake had put his bags down in the living room, hugged his mother and Kenny, Tyler nearly dragged him out the door and pushed him toward the passenger side. Jake hopped in and they set off down the road. Tyler wanted to test the truck out first with his favorite person in the world. Jake.

They cranked the radio, Tyler putting his spotify on shuffle, with a country playlist like they always went for when they headed out on adventures. The drums, tambourine, and guitar all melded in through the speakers and out the open windows. Tyler had his cowboy hat on, a new one he’d just gotten and sunglasses, and Jake had a backwards baseball cap, one that used to be Tyler’s, and his own set of sunglasses, his favorite pair that he kept on him exclusively for show. He only wore them up in a jet, or with Tyler in the truck.

As the lyrics flowed through the speakers, Tyler hummed and Jake stuck his arm out the window, his smile wide. When the chorus came up, both boys belted out the lyrics.

“I need a pretty little homegrown hometown girl, with a ribbon tyin’ back those waterfall curls, I been lookin’ all over all over the world, for a pretty little homegrown hometown girl!” They sung in unison, glancing at each other and smirking.

“I know exactly who you’re talkin’ about, T.” Jake pursed his lips. He knew Tyler was still on about the girl who’d left him. Jake knew he would always be about that girl. He believed those two were soulmates, just put together at the wrong time and they’d find each other again. Damn it if Tyler wouldn’t do everything he could to find her. In the meantime though, Tyler would joke that Jake is his soulmate.

“You talkin’ about anyone in particular?” Tyler asked, his hand gliding along the fresh, new leather of the steering wheel. The truck smelled new and they both couldn’t get enough of it. It was a comfortable ride, and Tyler was the only person that Jake trusted to drive. That was why Jake could never be a back seater. He couldn’t handle having someone in control of where they were in the air, but on the ground, he’d give up all of that to Tyler. And no matter how sketchy things got, he always put his faith in Tyler.

“Nah, no one. I’d like a little hometown girl though. Pretty little brunette maybe? Big tits and a big ass? Someone that’d look fuckin good on my arm at Navy Balls and all that shit.” JAke said and Tyler blew air from his lips.

“Yur a slut, y’know that?” Tyler joked and Jake reached over and punched him in the shoulder lightly. “Not from our hometown though. Ain’t none’a these girls good enough for you Jake, I tell ya.”

“Nah, maybe a California girl. Pretty, tan, and like I said, brunette. She’s gotta be a brunette. God, I’d love a hot little brunette to be sitting on my couch in my Cowboys jersey, watching football on a sunday. Fuck.” Jake shook his head and Tyler couldn’t help the laugh that left his lips. He glanced over at Jake, who smirked and tilted his head.

“Yeah and I’d take a cute lil’ blonde barrel racer girl that I could have a few kids with, a farm and go roping on the weekends. Maybe we can watch football, but maybe we could go do fun shit with the kids too.” Tyler’s smile faded slightly and then he shot a look at Jake, whose jaw stiffened.

“Don’t ruin the mood you jackass.” Jake chucked a bottle cap at Tyler that he’d found lodged between the seats. Brand new truck and his brother already had crap everywhere. “Don’t get sentimental on me, you dick.”

“I’m not...I’m just...I don’t know. I’m gonna miss ya, Jakey.” Tyler said and Jake grabbed his brother’s shoulder. Tyler turned down a dirt road and pushed the truck a little faster, letting the suspension and tires do some work. The boys were quiet as the next song came over the speakers, making them grin. They belted the song, both of them tapping their hands on the outside of the truck as Tyler steered the monster through thickening brush and low, muddy spots.

“Gotta git down, gotta git down to Arkansas, havin’ so much fun that it’s probably a little bit against the law! All the boys and the girls down there sure know how to have a ball! If ya wanna git down gotta git down to Arkansas!”

The truck bumped along and almost bottomed out, crunching sticks underneath its six tires and heavy frame as they navigated out of the worst of the trail. On the other end was a clearing, a big field that ended at a small cliff, where it overlooked the Arkansas River. They were just in time. Tyler parked some feet from the edge and both boys climbed up onto the roof of the truck, the newly installed rack above the cab the perfect spot for them to sit. Their legs hung off in front of the front windshield and Jake pulled two cans of shitty beer from his sweatshirt pocket, handing one to his brother and cracking his own open. They gazed up at a darkening sky, watching as a storm began to build just on the other side of the river, several miles away. It was heading away east from them so they weren’t worried about it.

“There might be a tornado in that one.” Tyler said, pointing toward the front of the storm. Jake’s brows raised.

“You gonna take me on a chase any time soon?”

“Yeah when you come back from your next deployment. We’ll go. I’ll have the truck modded out by then. It’ll be able to withstand an F-1 at the least.”

“You're nuts. But I believe in you. I know you’ll get it done.”

🌪️🛻🛩️⚓

When Tyler and Georgia brought Jaycen home for the first time, there was a palpable fear between them. They didn’t know how to care for a kid. Sure, they’d read some books, talked to everyone they could, got a hundred opinions, but now it was up to them to really figure it out.

They knew the first week would be exhausting. They had already been running on fumes, so any chance they got to sleep was going to be key. Jaycen was pretty consistent about sleeping. He’d be down for a couple of hours and then wake up, begging for something to eat. They’d decided it was best for them to do mixed feeding, so that if Georgia was too tired, Tyler was able to take over and feed Jaycen. Jake and Sam had also volunteered to help out, figuring they could use the experience if they wanted to have kids too.

Samantha had really taken to the little guy. The tufts of hair on his head were her favorite thing and she gently brushed them back and forth when she held him. Jake’s favorite thing about Jaycen was that he was kind of a sassy little boy. He would stick his chubby little fingers in his mouth when he wanted food and then, and he only did it to Tyler and Jake, would smack them on their arm several times while his bottle was being prepared. Tyler was determined to keep the temperature consistent, not too hot and not too cold. Georgia appreciated his attentiveness not only to Jaycen but also to her.

When Georgia was feeling particularly tired, Tyler would bring Jaycen to her, that way if she wanted to feed him in bed she could. Georgia already adored the little boy, who had the same sage green eyes as his father. She loved looking into his big green eyes, full of curiosity for the world in front of him. Tyler’s favorite thing about the small human was that he would just stare at Georgia, his focus never leaving his mother. He understood that, because he felt the same. He loved Georgia and he knew that the little boy would love her too.

The great thing about having Jake and Sam around was that they could help with everything on the farm. Tyler had delegated to Boone for anything for the channel and they’d made a short video introducing the newest storm chaser. There had been a lot of congratulations but there had also been some salty comments from the sore losing fangirls who thought they’d had a chance with Tyler. They even went so far as to comment on Ophelia’s videos that she’d taken of Georgia helping her, saying that Georgia didn’t know everything. Georgia would be the first to admit that though, so it didn’t bother her. Ophelia shut down everyone that came into her comments, defending her mentor fiercely.

As for the Wranglers, there was the pro-Georgia camp and the anti-Georgia camp there. It was really just a couple of recurring girls who were pissed that Tyler had flirted with them once or twice at a bar or at a rodeo and they never got their chance with him. Tyler made it a point every time he was on the stream or in the chat that any Georgia hate was not allowed. He was even slightly passive aggressive at times, which it seemed some people actually enjoyed. He’d make comments like ‘god I love my wife so much’ or ‘can’t wait to get back out there chasin’ but am really gonna miss my wife and kid’.

During that first week that Jaycen was home, Kate had taken over the channel with Boone. Even though they both had significant others at this point, they were still a highly chaotic couple when they were together. Boone thought it was hilarious when Kate drove, because she was honestly a bad driver. She sped far too often and hit the brake far too late most of the time. She had no consideration for either truck, so much so that Tyler and Boone were constantly sending her trucks so that she could get her own. They would do all the modifications of course and help make it perfect, but she really needed her own so that she could stop crashing and trashing theirs.

For the first week, Tyler and Georgia kept Jaycen close to the house. The dogs were absolutely ecstatic to have the bundle of joy around. They constantly followed whoever had Jaycen in their arms, their eyes focused on the boy. Pancake loved to sit next to them on the couch and try to lick Jaycen’s feet. It would make the little boy giggle and squirm to the point he would get the hiccups.

Grits was very protective of the boy. He would sit by whichever parent had him, almost on top of their feet and survey the room constantly. The red heeler would whine when Jaycen cried and howl when he laughed. Waffles was the one who got right up in Jaycen’s face. She would sit on the arm of the couch, touching her nose to the top of his head or sneaking in a lick to the baby’s face when she thought Georgia or Tyler weren’t looking.

Georgia wanted so badly to take Jaycen out to the barn, but she knew they should wait. The waiting was hell though. She could see from the kitchen window that Ducati would stare at the house, as if he knew his rider had come into this world. She couldn’t wait to introduce the mustang to his kid.

“You know how much more I love you? I mean...I loved you before, obviously...but now..it’s just tenfold. You made my dreams come true, Peach.’ Tyler said softly, as he wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. He peered down at his son in her arms and his heart overflowed with happiness. Georgia hummed and tilted her head, touching her temple to his. She blinked slowly as she looked from the squirmy bundle in her arms, to her proud husband. She leaned back against him, and he began to sway back and forth.

“I love you too, Tyler. And I love our son too.” She murmured softly, letting him rock her gently. The motion comforted Jaycen, making him close his eyes, and drift off to sleep again.

“Wish I could sleep as much as him. I think I’ve barely slept the past couple weeks.” Tyler admitted, letting his lips travel to Georgia’s neck. They ghosted over the skin, sending a shiver down her spine, bringing forth a smirk.

“Wait until he’s older. We won’t get any sleep. We’ll be zombies.” She joked, letting her eyes flutter closed for a moment as she enjoyed the protective presence Tyler offered. She felt so safe in his arms. She would even go so far as to say, her anxiety had decreased by at least half. She had a new brand of anxiety, but it was over caring for Jaycen, not the actual birth. That had scared the shit out of her, but as she’d told Tyler, the pain and stress had been well worth it now that they had their first child.

“And...now that you’ve done this once...” Tyler began but Georgia stopped him, her words gentle and reassuring to him.

“Yes, Tyler, I do want another kid. And I can’t wait to see Jaycen grow up. I think he’s gonna be a lot like you.” She yawned then and Tyler chuckled.

“Why do you say that?” Just cause he looks like me, don’t mean he’s gonna be like me. He might be like you and if that’s the case, we’re in for a wild ride. He’ll be a daredevil.” Tyler said. Georgia’s brows furrowed and she turned in his arms, sandwiching Jaycen gently between them. Tyler leaned down to kiss Georgia and then he pressed a light kiss to Jaycen’s forehead.

“He’s quiet. I know they said you can’t tell much about them now, but I think he’s going to be smart. He just stares and you can tell he’s trying to figure things out.” Georgia explained and Tyler nodded in agreement.

“Maybe he’s admiring his loving mama, just like his daddy does.” Tyler said, bringing a hand up to caress her cheek, She pressed into his hand and glanced up into sage green. There was warmth there, and a reverence that Georgia would never quite get over. Tyler worshipped the ground she walked on, and there were times she still couldn’t believe that, after all she’d put him through.

“He’s asleep. We should go put him in his crib.” Georgia said softly, meeting Tyler’s gaze. He agreed and he motioned for her to hand him Jaycen. She did and he took the boy up the stairs, Georgia following closely behind as they snuck up to the nursery to put him down for another nap.

It had warmed up significantly over the next week or so, giving Tyler and Georgia the opportunity they were hoping for. They dressed Jaycen in warm clothes, courtesy of their friends and family, and brought him out to the barn to see the horses. As they made their way down the aisle, Georgia said the name of each horse and pointed. Tyler followed closely behind, watching the little boy’s face light up as each horse stuck their nose out toward him. Georgia was careful, not letting them nibble or get too close, just enough to sniff. They walked out the back of the barn to the pen where Ducati was standing.

As soon as the mustang saw the bundle in Georgia’s arms, he walked toward the three humans and nickered softly. He stuck his nose through the bars of the panel fencing and Georgia let him sniff the little boy. Ducati whinnied quietly and his ears shot forward. There was a softness in the mustang’s eyes that Tyler recognized.

“He knows that’s gonna be his rider one day.” Tyler said, rubbing his hands up and down Georgia’s arms.

🌪️🛻🛩️⚓

Sam and Jake had been getting a crash course in raising a small human. Because they were able to, they did one feeding a day for Jaycen for that first week, hoping to give Tyler and Georgia some reprieve. Usually in the middle of the day, so that if Tyler had to run to the store he could, and Georgia could sneak out and check on the horses. Ophelia and Lennon had come to help, offering to do whatever Dustin couldn't.

Tyler had to run to the grain store, leaving Georgia home with Jaycen. Jake elected to go with him, and Sam stayed with Georgia just in case she needed any help. They hopped in Georgia’s truck, as it had the open bed and headed off.

“This is a pretty nice truck. This is hers?” Jake asked as they headed out the driveway.

“Yeah, she’s had this since she started rodeoin’. It got trashed last year durin’ chasin’ season. I’ve been workin’ on fixin’ it for the entirety of her pregnancy. Finally got it fixed. No frame issues thank god, but I don’t know that I trust it to tow a trailer anymore after that.” Tyler explained.

“How’d it get trashed?”

“Tornado rolled it. Gee said they were goin’ pretty fast too. She got a concussion from that. Her two friends were in it and they were okay just scared the shit outta them.”

“That sucks. She still want this truck?” Jake asked. Tyler raised a brow.

“Why, you wanna buy it?”

“I don’t know. I kinda like it. It’s not a girly truck. It’s nice.” Jake mused. Tyler smirked at him as they pulled down the main street in Stillwater, heading through town to the store.

‘You’re goin’ home soon aren’t ya? Tyler asked. Jake nodded.

“I do need to get back to work. They wanna do a physical and mental eval. Then they need to see if I can hack it up in a jet again. It’s not the flying I’m worried about at all. That comes second nature to me. It’s the leavin’.”

“You got the dogs though. She’ll be fine.”

“How’d you know Georgia was pregnant?” Jake asked, rolling down the window as Tyler slowed up and turned off the main strip.

“She was real sick one mornin’. Peed on a stick. It was positive, so we made an appointment with Doc Halstead and went through all the shit there. I went to every appointment too, even if I was gonna be chasin’. Rushed home for one cause I didn’t wanna miss seein’ his little heart beat.” Damn, Jake...I really love that kid already.” Tyler turned into the feed store lot and parked in the front. The nice thing about their local store was that they could order by phone or online and they got a notification when it was ready to be picked up so all they had to do was go in and give their phone number. Georgia ordered enough every week for a half a pallet, so they would use the forklift and place it in the back. When Tyler got it home, he used the forks they had for the tractor and lifted it off and placed it in the front of the barn so the only lifting that had to be ever was to put the bags in the grain room.

“Sam and I have...yuh know...like a lot...and she’s not showing any signs.” Jake said as he was about to get out but Tyler stopped him. One of the employees had seen Tyler and waved him over to the loading dock. They knew by now that he had an order, he barely had to get out of the truck.

“Doc said all women are different and even all pregnancies are different. She said she had one woman who was sick the entire pregnancy, had to be bed ridden for the last trimester and then her next one she kept working and felt fine up until a week before her due date. Said it depends on the environment and how you take care of yourself. I’m a lot healthier than I used to be. Doc said it’s not just the women. Has to do with the guy too.” Tyler explained as he backed the truck to the dock. The employee pulled the tailgate down.

“Sam and are are pretty good about eating healthy and what not. We exercise, stay fit.” Jake said, as he watched the employee place the half pallet of grain and supplements in the bed carefully.

“So maybe her body is just like ‘everything’s fine’ right now. When you get home if you’re really that worried, have her go to a doctor. You should talk to her about it though.” Tyler said as the employee waved to him and closed the tailgate.

“I know, I know. We have...sort of. She’s scared to have kids.” Jake said as Tyler drove out and headed back toward home.

“Why?” He asked, glancing at Jake.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s just the fact that she would be carrying around another human for nine months or if it’s because I almost died on that last deployment...”

“I venture t’guess it’s the latter. She doesn’t wanna have a kid, have all the dogs, and then get a letter from the Navy sayin’ hey your husband died flyin’ a jet, sorry. She’s scared to lose you.”

“I get it, but..she knew what she was getting herself into. Her father was an aviator too.”

“But how long was her father an aviator and deployed on missions before she grew up and understood what she could lose? And you said her father just passed not too long ago. I’m sure that weighs heavy on her mind.”

“Yeah she had lost someone else too before that.”

“Well so there’s exactly why she’s so scared. And I’ll bet she doesn’t want that kid growing up without a dad, Jake. I know you’re gonna be a great dad, but you do have to be a little sensitive to her feelings too. Don’t be so hard on yourself either. And damn it, just talk to her, like we’re talkin’ right now. Put everythin’ out there.”

“You always give the best advice.” Jake said, staring at his brother.

“You do too when I need it. That’s what brothers are for though. To give each other advice.” Tyler said and then he turned up the radio slightly, letting the music take over and fill the comfortable silence that had entered the truck. Jake’s thought traveled back to California then as he stared out the window and across the fields of wheat and corn. He had come to wonder if California was really the place for him and if he wanted to have a family out there, or if he wanted to come back home and try to raise a family here. He wanted to be close to Tyler. He’d always been his safety blanket. His balm when things got rough, so why wouldn’t he want to be closer to him and his parents.

But he had to think about Sam too. California was all she knew, except for going to Harvard for college, but even then she had gone home as much as she could. It was a discussion that they needed to have and Jake just didn’t know how to start it or where to start with it. He’d been putting it off for so long it felt like a monster feat to try to bring it up but he knew he needed to do it. Maybe talking all of it out before they went back to California would be the best thing, so that they could manage expectations of each other when they got back and really evaluate whether or not this was what they wanted, now that they’d gotten a taste of this life.

When they arrived back at the ranch, Tyler started up the tractor and swapped the bucket fo the forks so that he could move the pallet. Jake directed him and then once he’d placed it down, Jake began moving bags into the grain room. Tyler left the tractor running.

“You mind putting the grain in the bins? I just wanna go drag the arena. It’s my five minutes of peace and quiet to myself.” Tyler said and Jake nodded. He watched as Tyler walked up to the house quickly, meeting Georgia on the porch. She had Jaycen in her arms and the dogs all came piling out of the front door. Grits, the red heeler, peed on the grass by the first step and then ran, leapt up into the cab of the tractor and sat, waiting for his human. Jake observed for a few more minutes, watching his brother kiss his wife on the lips and kiss his newborn son, all bundled in clothes and a blanket, on the forehead. All Jake could think of then was that he did in fact, want this life. He wanted to come home to Sam and a baby. He wanted everything that Tyler was sharing with him.

He sighed as he saw Tyler step down from the porch and Georgia walked back inside, already looking like a pro with Jaycen in one arm and the door held open for Waffles, the only one of the dogs that wanted to come back in. The little blue dog ran inside and Jake watched Tyler hop into the tractor cab, Grits taking up his place on his human’s lap, and heading off to drag the ring. Jake continued moving the bags of grain and dumping them into their respective barrels. He was almost done when he heard light footsteps coming into the barn.

“Hey, handsome.” It was Samantha. Jake, as he crumpled up the last bag and put it in the recycling bin, smiled wide. He stepped over to her, dusting his hands off and then wrapping them around her waist.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He said softly, pressing his lips to hers. They stayed in that moment, lips just touching, no tongues, no passionate forcefulness, just love between them. Jake was the one who broke the kiss and then his green eyes stared into the warm chocolate brown of Sam’s.

“Can we talk about some things before we go home?” He asked, and she nodded, allowing him to guide her out to the back of the barn so that they could speak in peace and private. They leaned against Ducati’s panels, the horse walking over immediately to say hi. Jake reached through the bars and placed his hand on the gelding’s forehead and scratched softly.

“What do you want to talk about, Jake?” She asked, reaching for one of his hands. He glanced down and then back up at her, eyes full of concern. Sam clocked it immediately and she drew him in closer. “What's got you worried?”

“I’m just wondering...if you feel okay? Feel any different?” He asked and she tilted her head.

“No? Did I do something that has you asking that?”

“No, no, I just...I...we’ve...fuck...we’ve had sex...a lot...without...” Jake stuttered, trying to figure out how to start. Sam took in a sharp breath.

“I don’t feel any different, no. I...actually called a doctor, back home. I was kind of thinking I might be pregnant at this point too but... I just haven’t gotten around to taking a test and...I’m worried that there’s something wrong...”

“Maybe it’s just bad timing? Maybe it’s me? I know they said the meds I was on when I came home, the depression shit...they could affect stuff like that. Either way...maybe when they do my physical eval I can have them run some tests there too.”

“I think that sounds like a great idea...and Jake I know this is hard. Having to leave. I know you want to stay longer.” Sam moved in to put her hands on his chest and she saw his eyes grow misty. His brows furrowed and he touched his forehead to hers then.

“And I know California is your home.” He whispered.

“It is...it’s yours too. But...Jake...we have many more years ahead of us...and we can decide, together, where we want to live.” Sam said softly, running her fingers up and down his chest.

“Do we? Have many more years?” Jake asked, tone flat.

“What?” She drew back, her stare hardening.

“Do you want this Sam? Do you want me? With everything that comes with me being in the Navy? With the possibility that what happened last time, could happen again? Or that the next time, I don’t come home? Are you really okay with that?” He asked. He felt warm breath on his hand. Ducati was standing, quietly closing his eyes to the sound of them talking. Sam took a few moments, petting the gelding’s neck and thinking over what she wanted to say to Jake.

“No Jake...to be honest the thought of losing you absolutely scares me to death, but...I love you so much that I want to give it a try. I want this. And everything that comes with it. Because I’m realizing that I really don’t wanna ever be without you...and I know...I know you’re going to go back on deployments and I know you’re going to be gone at times, but I know you’re always going to do everything you can to come back to me. To us.” She said and Jake pulled her in close, kissing the top of her head.

“I just worry...about not being there for any kids we have. I don’t want to miss things...I don’t want...” Jake’s speech drifted off and his eyes glazed over. Sam knew he was thinking of his father, Randall, not Kenny. Jake didn’t want his kids to miss him.

“Jake...I’m more resilient than you give me credit for sometimes. I’d be okay...and they’d be okay. And imagine how excited they’d be to have you home...”

🌪️🛻🛩️⚓

As always, Tyler and Jake took an hour, and set off in the truck. They always did this when Jake had to leave, though it wouldn’t be for another month or so, but Tyler needed the time alone with his brother. They were at a very different place and time in both of their lives, but the same sentiment. Tyler turned up the radio and even though it was chilly, rolled the windows down. The first song that came on was one that they both sung softly, but the words hung heavy in the air between them, making them both tear up.

“I’ve been thinkin’ back, summers in the woods, didn’t keep time, cause we didn’t know we should, snuck a little whiskey on the back porch, and now I’m needin’ more, so on a saturday don’t call me if you miss, I’m on a southbound train, just take me back to...skippin’ town and skippin’ classes, time passed slow, like ole molasses, the hardest part of movin’ out was movin’ on. And city lights are dim compared to southern skies and open air. The hardest part of lettin’ go was lettin’ on that I’m goin’ goin’ gone.”

They stayed quiet as the song finished, the next one filtering through the speakers, on a slightly happier note.

“I love a first cast when the water's glass and the line starts to run. Or that first sip of a cold beer when the workin’ weeks done. I love the twilight in the mornin’ fore the day wakes up, or the windows down on the first ride in a paid-up truck. And I love a slow down in a beach town with an ocean view, and I love a first fall Saturday trip down to Baton Rouge. And I love a six-string with the stars out and the campfire glow, but girl that don’t even come close ...” Both brothers hummed but they sang the chorus, each having someone in mind. Someone special.

“To the way that it feels when you lean in and kiss me, the way that you dance when you get kinda tipsy, I’m wrapped round your finger like this ring I’m wearing, that look in your eye, girl, when you catch me starin’, and I don’t even know what it is but now that I’ve found, I can’t imagine me livin’ without this back forty view on our piece of ground, watching you watch the sun goin’ down, that’s what my world spins around .” Tyler glanced over at Jake, his lips turning up. Jake’s all knowing smile met his brother’s.

“That little blond barrel racer...” Jake said, tilting his head in approval.

“That little brunette that you hadta have...” Tyler said, shook his head and reached over to pat his brother’s arm.

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