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kiame-sama · 3 days ago

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Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 30

(Che'nya is officially considered a Bakeneko, but he is actually half Bakeneko half Kitsune. He has an affinity for daydreams and and see what others are daydreaming about due to his Bakeneko heritage, including what the Human daydreams about. He does need to be close to his target to see what they are daydreaming about and there are rules to what a daydream specifically is that allows him to view them, but he typically doesn't share what he sees in the daydreams of others.)

Warnings: yandere, yandere relationships, yandere behavior, crimes committed and a price paid, Queendom of Roses visit start, mention of public execution, hurt/comfort, several guards are chosen for this event, Heavy weighs the title of the Last, Human artifacts, Harpies, Hellcat, Selkie, Sphinx, Dragon, Vampire bat, Nemean lion, Drider, Merfolk, Unicorn, Shinigami, Gnoll,

~~~~~~~~

"Good morning, my Little Bird."

Your eyes slowly opened to see the beaked mask of the Crow Headmage watching you closely, a smile on his lips and his eyes glowing in the darkness. The sudden appearance of the male made you almost scream before he shushed you gently and tried to keep you calm. It was nearing the end of the week and you likely were going to have to attend yet another Housewarden meeting to see who would be your guards for the next week.

"What are you doing in here? What time is it?"

"It is early. I wanted to talk with you before we have to meet with the students about your guards. This week is going to be different."

"Different compared to my ovulation or different overall?"

"Different over all."

Crowley sat on the edge of your nest and you sat up, rubbing at your eyes and trying to keep your movements limited so you don't wake Grim. The almost worried way Crowley spoke piqued your interest and you wondered why he was so unsettled. Something must have happened to make him change his behavior and be willing to wake you to speak with you about it.

Despite how much the Crow cooed over you and treated you like his child, he still respected your space more than most students and wouldn't do something so brash without reason. Even the collar- despite how much you disliked it at first- was done for a reason. Now you just needed to know what new hell your life would be facing.

"Get dressed, and we will discuss this downstairs. The other staff are already awake so we can talk about this."

You nodded and Crowley left to give you some time. As you were getting dressed, you vaguely wondered what happened to make such a change on your life and if it had anything to do with the past traumatic events you had already gone through. Surely it couldn't be more threats to remove you from NRC, but you wouldn't put it past the other countries to try and use Erikír's Overblot as more fuel for the fire.

You gathered the sleeping kit into your arms, letting him snuggle into his blanket and purr as you stroked the smooth gray fur. He didn't even rouse as you quietly made your way through the building and to where the staff awaited you in the main lounge area of the dorm. The sun had yet to rise and the staff all seemed rather groggy, most barely awake even as they drank their tea or sipped at their beverages.

Naturally, Divus was first to greet you with a sleepy smile, happy to see you join them and even made space for you to sit next to him. It was difficult to not see the Selkie as a kind of father figure given his protective behavior and gentle attitude towards you. Even Trein seemed like a grandparent given his attitude towards you and the other staff all seemed to fall in similar roles. A large disjointed found family that sought to protect and shield you was certainly not a bad thing by any stretch.

Trein set yet another cup of tea in front of you, the warm porcelain feeling nice on your hands. Even that first sip seemed to warm your insides and settle smoothly in your stomach.

"(Y/n), the Huoshu- the Rat- has been sentenced to death in the Queendom of Roses, and- as per their laws- you need to attend his execution. The representatives agreed to allow you to stay in Night Raven College so long as you make several visits to the various countries that are financing and supporting your wellbeing. Your visit to the Queendom will count as one of these pilgrimages."

"So I won't be here at school for this week then... What does that mean for guards?"

"You will have to choose several students to be your guards while you are away from Night Raven. The staff and I have agreed to allow these selected students to be exempt from schoolwork while they are with you and their guarding will count as full marks for any assignment they miss during this time."

"I choose them?"

Crowley nodded, his feathers slightly ruffled as if he didn't want any of these students to be tasked with your safety. Still, he had a school to run and he couldn't come with you while he was running the school. From the sounds of it, you wouldn't be able to take any of the professors with you on this trip at all.

"Yes. It would make no sense for you to be assigned guards if you do not feel safe with them around you, especially when you are somewhere new and don't know your way around."

"How many can I choose?"

"However many you would like, but I would rather a few Housewardens stay to ensure anarchy doesn't reign."

You sat in silence for a moment, busying yourself with the cup in front of you and trying to mentally parse out what was happening. Even on top of who you would choose- which you had several in mind- there was the question of what would be done with Grim during this time. Honestly, you didn't think he should have to see the execution as he was still so young and shouldn't be exposed to such things at such a tender age. However, if you left him at NRC, he would panic and enter a distressed state without you- his mother- to comfort and soothe him.

"What about Grim? He can't stay here. He will panic without me or think I abandoned him and he doesn't need that kind of stress so early in life. But I don't want him seeing the execution either, that is far too brutal an event for one so young."

Trein nodded to this, his own feline companion Lucius was laying curled up in his arms and sleeping peacefully. None of the staff seemed particularly comfortable with you being away from Night Raven but none seemed to be able to fond a better solution. It was only made more dire to know that you had agreed to these 'visits' to other countries prior, meaning you had to follow through with the promises you made.

"He should go with you, and you should cover his eyes during the execution. If he stays, he will work himself into a panic and you won't be there to calm him down. If he goes, he can't leave your side or others may try to use him to get to you. He needs to go with you, but you can stop him from seeing the execution and being impacted by it."

A soft sigh escaped you as you gently pet the kit's head, Grim stretching his paws out in his sleep to grab your hand and nuzzle it. He was so young and so little, it was heartbreaking to think about anyone taking advantage of him to hurt you and that Rat- Huoshu as Crowley claimed- had been willing to pay for the kit to be killed. You wanted the Rat dead, but you knew even the Rat's death would not fully soothe the stressed kit.

"Okay. I agree he should come with, just to keep his stress down. I'll see what I can do about stopping him from seeing the Execution."

"Who would you like to guard you?"

"..."

~•§•~

It was rare that you were the first to arrive for a Housewarden meeting, usually one of the last. However, Crowley waking you early to talk with the staff before he called for a meeting meant you were first to arrive with the Crow and Grim. You figured Malleus would not be in attendance unless you called for him given what Lilia had told you about his issues with technology. Still, you sent a text to Lilia, Silver, and Sebek to try and attend with Malleus so you wouldn't cause the Dragon undue stress.

Given your many options to choose from among your guards, you had a good list of those you were planning to bring along. The only thing that worried you about this list was the potential for the beast men to become either prideful at being selected, or angry at not being selected.

Most of those that filtered in actually seemed pleased to see you already in attendance and you recognized many brought their chosen group along even if they had not guarded you prior. Vil brought Rook and Epel. Riddle brought Trey, Cater, Ace, and Deuce. Leona brought Ruggie and Jack. Azul brought Floyd and Jade. Kalim brought Jamil. Idia brought Ortho. Malleus was last to arrive, but the Hoard came with him always.

When all of the others had finally arrived for the meeting, Crowley actually let you take the lead on it to explain what was happening and why. It was a little odd- as the Crow had not done this prior- but perhaps even he was beginning to realize you had your own agency and could mostly handle yourself.

"I won't be staying at Night Raven this week-"

Your first words were met with outcry from all of the guards and you had to wait for them to fall silent again, now all of them seeming stressed compared to their behavior prior.

"I am to attend the execution of the traitor scientist who hired the Wolves to kill me. He has been sentenced to death by beheading in the Queendom of Roses and I am required to attend. As I will be away from Night Raven and have no magic of my own to protect me from potential threats, Headmage Crowley and the other staff have agreed that I should take several guards with me for this endeavor. Those who come with me will be excused from classwork for the duration of time I am in the Queendom. I have an idea of who I wish to bring with me, but I do have a few questions that will determine who ultimately is selected. Who here is from the Queendom of Roses?"

Riddle was quick to raise his hand, as was Ace, Deuce, and Trey. You nodded, taking note of those who would be familiar with the landscape and the expected rules of the country. Despite knowing you were not held to the same rules as the others, you still didn't want to break any laws regardless of if you would be held accountable or not.

"Very well. Riddle, you're one of the guards I am choosing to come with. We are leaving later today, so I do hope you can pack quickly as we will be in the Queendom for at least six days. I do expect you to tell me of any laws that I need to be mindful of so I do not cause offence while we are in the Queendom. Trey, the Heartslabyul dorm needs at least one of their Dormleaders, so I can't bring you too, despite the fact I would like to bring you both."

Trey nodded, seeming to be somewhat downcast but also understanding your reasoning. His quick acceptance gave you a bit of hope as to how the others would react to not being selected despite how they clearly wished to all come with you.

"Malleus, because I know it will stress you out otherwise and I would rather keep my strongest guard with me, I would like you to come with as well, just in case anything happens. Lilia, that does mean you can't come with since Diasomnia needs you."

"I understand, (Y/n). Hopefully there won't be dire need, but Malleus will absolutely be able to protect you even if I am not there. Keep me updated though, and I will drop everything to come help should you call."

Lilia was always the more socially graceful of the two, and though you wanted him to come instead of Malleus, you still figured the strongest would dissuade others from attacking or trying their luck. Malleus seemed positively thrilled, however.

"Leona, for the sake of Sunset Savana and to combat the racism against Nemean Lions, I do think you should come with as well. Ruggie, I hope you can manage the Pride while Leona is with me."

"Aww, does that mean I have to starve for the week?"

"Ruggie-"

"Shihihi, I'm just playing with you (Y/n). I'll do it, but I want double portions when you get back, okay?"

"Fine. I figured you'd want something in return."

The Gnoll seemed pleased with the arrangement and Leona was beaming with pride. That at least gave you three Housewardens on your side, but you also didn't plan to stop with just the three guards.

"I can't take every Housewarden with me on this, but it would be remiss of me to not include Vice-Housewardens and regular students as well. Rook, you are a Hunter with keen instincts and a sharp eye, I do feel safer if you came with as you can read the body language of others better than I can and you know what behavior to watch out for."

"I will happily take the role of your gallant knight and guard you with my very life, Mademoiselle Trickster."

Rook could keep an eye on vantage points and see if anyone was targeting you, as he had the mind of a hunter. He would be first to know what to look out for and who to be suspicious of while you are exposed to the rest of this insane world.

"Floyd, think you can entertain yourself enough to come with, or should I choose Jade?"

"Naw, Jade is always whining about new foods, don't pick him. I'd be happy to go along with you, Lil Shrimpy. Sounds like it will be a blast and a half!"

Jade sent a pointed glare to his twin, but clearly Floyd was elated by being selected. Azul almost seemed like he wanted to argue with the decision but ensured to keep himself quiet despite his internal protests.

"I don't want to take too many with me on this trip, so I think the five I've chosen are the best bet for this situation. Idia, if I take a tablet with me, will you be able to keep tabs while I am gone?"

"Absolutely."

"Good, does anyone else have any complaints or want to suggest they come along? I'm going to need a good reason to allow it, but I am willing to listen."

You looked around at the group, noticing Azul and Vil were both huffing in anger despite your explanation for not taking them as well. Despite their poor moods, neither of them objected. Much to your surprise, it was actually Ortho who spoke up.

"I think I should come with. I may not be from the Queendom of Roses, but I can scan for unusual behavior, odd activity, and can detect heat signatures through walls. On top of that, I can check to see if there are any unwelcome or undisclosed monitoring technology planted in whatever accommodations are provided."

"That... That is actually a damn good point. Ortho, feel like visiting the Queendom? I will request you don't watch the beheading though... It is sure to be a messy affair and I would rather someone of your age not have to witness that."

"You can count on me!"

Idia seemed a little unsettled with Ortho leaving, but he also seemed to agree with Ortho as to the reasoning for him coming along. He would just have to make sure that Ortho can fix or repair himself well enough before he leaves in case anything happens. The older Shinigami would rather not lose his little brother if he can help it.

"Alright. It is decided. Those who are coming with, make sure you are ready to go by midday today. They will be expecting us."

~•§•~

You stood looking at the mirror in your room, frowning slightly to yourself. There was no way to know if the Ghosts were there or not and you wanted to let them know where you were going before you left, just in case they tried to speak to you. All you could do was hope they heard you as you murmured softly to the mirror.

"I won't be here this week, but I will be back. If you all find something... Anything... Please wait for me to come back. This isn't the end, but... Who knows what will happen? Please... Please wait for me."

A faint shine took over the mirror despite nothing forming in the surface of the glass. Though none of the ghosts spoke to you through the mirror, you still took it as a sign that they heard you.

As you grabbed your bags, a kind of stress overtook you as to what exactly would be waiting for you on the other side of the looking glass. Perhaps the Queendom would welcome you, seeing as so many laws were in place to protect Humans despite their extinction. Perhaps they would covet you the moment you stepped on Queendom soil. Perhaps they would hate you. You really didn't know.

Still, there was no way you could avoid this and you knew the execution was to be a public event. Maybe, just maybe, the laws and the public beheading would be enough to discourage most from acting against you. You weren't holding onto too much hope, however.

Heavy weighs the burden that is being the last of your species in a world that craves so viciously. Heavy weighs the title you were given unwillingly. Heavy weighs the duty foisted upon you.

All you could do now was hope you could survive long enough to escape, and continue the pantomime until you were free.

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #humans are extinct twst au

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mlthree · 1 day ago

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task force 141 hated mess hall food. and they weren’t alone in that. the entire base hated the mess hall food. was it the worst thing they’d ever tasted in their whole lives? no. was it terrible? …yes. you couldn’t just keep putting chili flakes on everything. you had to do something about this.

so when you all finish a mission in berlin, you make some stupid excuse about swinging by a friend you haven’t seen in years. the boys know you’re lying. it’s not that you’re a bad liar, it’s just that you can’t contain your excitement for what was brewing in that gorgeous mind of yours.

simon tails you. obviously. are you two dating? hell no. as in not yet. but he’d be damned if he was gonna just let you walk around berlin alone. not like he had anything better to do.

you swing by a butcher shop and a chinese grocery store, and when you leave, simon notes that your backpack seems to weigh significantly more than it did when you went in.

interesting.

you waited two days until all the boys were occupied before starting on your master plan. price was in some meeting with laswell, soap was asleep, gaz was at the shooting range, and simon was sparring. or so you thought. you’re cleaning the beef in the team’s little kitchenette-living room area when simon comes up behind you, asking what you’re up to. you have a knife in your hand. if he didn’t have such quick reflexes, it would’ve ended up being simon skewers on the menu instead.

“jesus christ, si. you don’t have to prove to me why you’re called ghost.”

“was wondering when you were gonna cook everything you bought in berlin.”

“fucking stalker.” he gives you this look. the look that shuts you up every. single. time. you shift your weight from foot to foot, looking around for some way to diffuse the tension. “can you get started on the sauce?”

“nah.” you blink. what the fuck does he mean, ‘nah’? “would rather taste your cooking.” you roll your eyes, resisting the urge to smile. simon can tell. he leans against the counter right next to the stove, and you turn back around to the island to continue prepping the meat.

the process goes rather smoothly, with simon poking his nose in things here and there. you could’ve sworn he was carefully checking the seals on every single bottle of spice and flavoring you’d bought, making you laugh a bit to yourself. he is helpful when you need to actually sear the beef, letting you make the rice and sauce. you do have to smack his hands away a few times, telling him he can eat when everyone else does.

it takes longer than you would’ve assumed, an extra half hour added onto the original 30 minutes you originally thought it would take. you blame simon. it wasn’t easy to stay on task when you could feel his eyes on you. you send a quick text to the groupchat that dinner will be held in the kitchenette tonight, and everyone was strictly prohibited from entering until 1900 hours. glancing at the clock that told you 18:49, you make your final adjustments while simon helps you set the island.

almost on the dot, price and johnny come in, with price immediately exclaiming at how good it smells and soap just closing his eyes and taking a deep breath of the aroma. both of their jaws drop when they see the table, and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought you had cooked a feast for two starving prisoners.

“sweetheart. you didn’t.” are the first words out of price’s mouth, making you smile wide.

“i did! come on, sit down. and soap, pick your jaw up off the floor.” the sergeant quickly follows your orders, and scrambles into a seat next to john, with everyone watching amusedly at his excitement.

“should we wait for gaz?” you ask.

“you said 1900 hours. early bird catches the worm. or the beef, in this case.” price shrugs, clearly having no remorse in shoveling the food onto his plate. soap nods hastily in agreement, and you and simon exchange amused looks.

gaz joins only a few minutes late, annoyedly remarking at price and soap’s heap of food when he realizes what he missed out on. you tell him to sit down and grab some while he can, still a bit shocked at the pace that price and johnny are devouring the food at.

“bonnie,” soap manages in between shovels of his food, “you deserve. the best head in the world for this. or something of that sort.” the entire table erupts in laughter, and you shake your head with a huge grin on your face.

“that wouldn't even be the worst thing to happen to me.” you try not to notice simon staring you down. staring. as if he was imagining doing exactly what soap had said—

“no, but seriously, this is too good. i could eat this every day for the rest of my life,” gaz adds, taking another bite. “nobody would complain if you cooked more often. just for us, though. gotta keep you a secret.” you just smile tightly, returning simon’s gaze. the fact that you could see his lips because he had turned his balaclava up to eat wasn’t helping—

“love, everything okay?” your head snaps to gaz, and you quickly nod.

“yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. just need some more water,” you quickly save yourself, mouth suddenly feeling dry because of what you're seeing in your head. you can see the corners of simon’s mouth quirk up ever so slightly.

this man was going to be the death of you.

#i wrote this in 15 minutes in the middle of chemistry pls i'm just a girl #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley imagine #simon riley drabble #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #task force 141 #cod #call of duty #i didn't know how to end it could you tell #adri's writings

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lauraneedstochill · 7 hours ago

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this fic sparked my interest instantly when I read the premise for the first time and I’m so happy I finally got to it! first thought after reading — damn, that friendship between the three of them will crumble in the most heartbreaking way 💔

I really enjoyed watching the well-known events from the show unfold from someone else’s perspective, and you made it very easy to sympathize with Lia. as witty as she is and even with how sly she can be, there’s also this lonely part of her that comes from the experiences a lot of us had to face in life: feeling out of place, struggling to find where you belong, trying to mold yourself to other’s expectations in hopes that it will make things better.

you managed to add even more depth and emotions to the already sad parts of the story, and I felt so bad for Lia for being the one who doesn’t have any family by her side to offer her actual support 😭

She was being treated as though she was a lady, when she had never craved more to be comforted as though she was a little girl.

Otto is very intriguing in this — he’s clearly manipulative and always thinks two steps ahead but it is endearing to see that he sometimes has his moments of weakness, however small (for now hehe). it makes me wonder if she can manage to push him to make a bolder move. or maybe some other man should take an interest in Lia to motivate that cunning old man to interfere 👀 hmmmm.

If she did not know him better, she would have sworn she saw the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 😏

(also, I peeked into the comments — “she is going to wrap that crafty old man around her finger”? CAN’T WAIT)

Fire on the Mountain - Chapter One

Pairing: Otto Hightower (House of the Dragon) x OFC (Lia Costayne) Warnings: Canon typical death and mild angst. Word count: ~8.4k

Chapter summary: Lia suffers bitter disappointment at the king's tourney, and finds herself uncertain of her future in the wake of an unexpected shift in dynamic.

Series masterlist

Author's note: Header by @vampire-exgirlfriend 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.

The wheels of the carriage squeaked and rattled over the bumpy roads of King’s Landing, accompanied by the thumping of the horses’ hooves that pulled them towards their destination. Lia shifted uncomfortably, repositioning against the plush cushions that she sat upon. It was not the instability of their short journey towards the Dragonpit that irked her, however.

Click. Click. Click.

She cast her gaze down towards Alicent’s fingers, the sound of her nails moving against her skin was audible even over the din of the wheelhouse. The flesh was red, raw and bloodied, and Lia had to force herself to suppress the way her lips attempted to curl in disgust, instead leaning forward to place her own hand over top of Alicent’s, squeezing gently, a comforting gesture that halted her friend’s nervous habit.

Alicent smiled softly at her, but Lia could tell from the way she lowered her eyes that she was embarrassed at having been caught outwardly expressing her anxiety. Lia could not help but pity her, she had plenty to feel worried about herself, but had never allowed it to manifest itself in such an unseemly manner. House Costayne was sworn to the Hightowers, and so it was no question that Lia, youngest daughter of Lord Owen Costyane, would serve as a companion to Lady Alicent, the young daughter of the Hand of the King. Whisked away from the Whispering Sound at the age of six, the two years in Oldtown had been extraordinary—the largest port in the Reach, full of bustling excitement and things to see, all temptations to a precocious and formerly sheltered little girl. When King Viserys took the throne, Lord Otto called his daughter to the capital to be a companion to the young princess and of course, Lia joined as part of Alicent's household.

At the age of fourteen, she had spent more of her life away from her family than with them. They were leagues away, and the memory of the castle in which she was born was but a distant memory. The silver chalice and black rose that adorned the Costayne House sigil felt more tangible to her than the faces of either her mother or father.

She could not pretend that she had suffered in their absence though; she had had every luxury she could ever desire at her disposal, and though her family were far away, at least they still lived. Alicent had suffered through the loss of her mother, and had to keep her composure through all of it. The royal court was no place for the weeping and wailing of a young girl. Lia supposed that if she had been forced to endure that, then she would likely have taken to picking her nails bloody too.

The death of Alyrie Florent had brought Lia and Alicent closer together, and with it their shared bond with Princess Rhaenyra had blossomed too. Lia helped to bring Alicent out of her shell, allowing her an outlet for behaviours that were otherwise considered unseemly for a young lady at court; they gossiped, laughed loudly, and did so with the unspoken bond of secrecy that runs like an invisible thread through the fabric of friendship. Alicent had a calming influence on both Lia and Rhaenyra, serving as the voice of reason that helped to keep them out of trouble–most of the time. Oftentimes, it would take but a look from Alicent for both girls to know they had gone too far, a trait she had doubtless inherited from her father. It had taken just a simple widening of those big brown eyes to halt Lia and Rhaenyra’s ascent up through the branches of the Heart Tree in the Godswood; a foolish attempt to gain a vantage point in order to spy through the higher windows of the Red Keep, that would likely have resulted in broken limbs. Rhaenyra shared Alicent’s knowledge of propriety, though not her love of it, and the wild, adventurous side of her played well with Lia’s, her status as The Realm’s Delight allowing them a margin more leniency than most would be afforded.

The three girls were inseparable, yet in the unwavering foundations of their bond, Lia had never felt more uncertain about her own future. Otto clearly had plans for Alicent, and Rhaenyra’s comfort was secured in her position as the King’s daughter, however, no such fate awaited Lia. She was every bit the spare part, aware of the fact that her destiny is one she will have to build on her own. As such, she delights in being Otto’s confidant, sharing news of the movements of Rhaenyra and Alicent in exchange for his favour. It had begun innocently enough, a fatherly figure taking an interest where the patriarch of her own family was unable to. She had taken pride in recounting her lessons to him, beaming up at him with girlish exuberance as he had listened carefully, amusement glittering in his eyes. It had never occurred to her that he had any ulterior motive, and so the unspoken vow of secrecy she afforded Alicent slipped in front of her father, allowing him to be privy to the gossip they indulged in and the adventures that they embarked upon with Rhaenyra within the walls of the Red Keep. As Lia had grown older, she had started to suspect that Otto’s questions served a deeper purpose than simple interest, however, it did not deter her; acting as a confidant to the King’s Hand would not be without its advantages. She hoped that when the time was right, the loyalty of both her and her family would not be forgotten.

The wheelhouse pulled to a shuddering stop just outside of the Dragonpit, and Lia moved to push the door open, stopping as they were plunged into sudden darkness. A forceful gust of air shook the carriage. They had arrived just in time for Rhaenyra’s return on Syrax. Lia and Alicent hovered apprehensively by the door, waiting until they heard their friend’s dragon thump heavily against the earth, before tentatively peeking out. Lia was brave enough to descend the small set of wooden steps to the ground below, while Alicent opted to remain in the safety of the wheelhouse, standing in its doorway.

She could not help but feel envious of Rhaenyra, watching as she slid gracefully from the back of her golden dragon, pulling her riding gloves off with her teeth, staring up at the great beast in admiration as it was coaxed back to the pit by the dragon keepers. Lia longed for the sense of adventure and freedom that the princess experienced high above the clouds of King’s Landing, the walls of the Red Keep felt as much a cage as they were an extravagance at times.

Though as Rhaenyra drew closer, the sulfurous stench of dragon radiating from her leathers, Lia wrinkled her nose in repulsion, deciding that if she were to experience freedom then she certainly had no desire for it to be atop the back of a dragon.

“Syrax is growing quickly,” Alicent commented, nodding towards the dragon’s retreating form. “She will soon be as large as Caraxes.”

“That’s almost large enough to saddle two,” Rhaenyra replied with a grin.

“I believe I am quite content as a spectator, thank you,” Alicent quipped, the gentle smile reserved only for Rhaenyra spreading across her mouth.

“And you?” Rhaenyra regarded Lia with a raise of her eyebrow.

“I prefer to keep both my feet firmly on the ground, I am afraid.”

Rhaenyra tutted. “Cowards, both of you,” she jested, stomping up the carriage steps.

The three of them huddled together on the same seat on the way back to the castle, talking excitedly about which knights they expected to be in attendance for the tourney being hosted by King Viserys in honour of the impending birth of Queen Aemma’s second child.

Their laughter carried through the Keep’s corridors as the three of them walked back towards Rhaenyra’s chambers, linked arm in arm, Rhaenyra sandwiched between Alicent and Lia.

While Alicent and Lia reclined comfortably on couches, nibbling on candied lemon slices, Rhaenyra went to change out of her riding gear. The two exchanged a surprised glance as she reappeared in a yellow gown, much too quickly to have bathed. Lia could not imagine being allowed to conduct herself at court smelling quite so pungent; it was a privilege only afforded to royalty. Her and Alicent had to always present themselves as clean and well groomed, a necessity that Lia did not mind at all. She was well aware of her own beauty, and took a level of care with her appearance that bordered upon outright vanity. She would never dream of being seen outside of her chambers without her long, dark curls having been meticulously brushed and styled. Whereas Rhaenyra, Lia often thought, could have been mistaken for one of the scullery maids were it not for the finery she dressed it. She was lucky she was pretty.

Rhaenyra swept into the Queen’s apartments, leaving her friends to stand awkwardly in the doorway, looking in on the queen and her ladies. They both greeted Aemma courteously, and she responded with a polite hello and a strained smile.

A sense of unease crept over Lia’s flesh at the sight of Aemma, fanning herself as she lay on the settee by the open balcony windows. She looked more uncomfortable every time she saw her. It was not a state she wished for herself, though it was an inevitability. Such was the role of a woman, though Lia hoped her fate would be one more fortunate; she was all too aware of the fruitless pregnancies that Aemma had endured prior to this one.

“Take a bath, you stink of dragon,” Aemma gently scolded her daughter.

Lia bowed her head, concealing the way her lips curved upwards in amusement, suddenly pretending that the golden stitching of her ivory coloured gown was the most interesting thing in the world. She kept her blue eyes fixed upon the cuff of her sleeve, her fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the delicate golden rings upon the fingers of her left hand. At last, someone was saying it aloud. A statement only a queen could get away with saying to a princess.

Rhaenyra ignored her mother, settling beside her. “Did you sleep?”

“I slept.”

The princess huffed. “How long?”

“I don’t need mothering, Rhaenyra.”

“Well, here you are, surrounded by attendants all focused on the babe. Someone has to attend to you.”

“You will lie in this bed soon enough, Rhaenyra. This discomfort is how we serve the realm.” The queen’s voice was tired, though of the pregnancy or of this oft repeated conversation, Lia could not tell.

“I’d rather serve as a knight and ride to battle and glory.”

“We have royal wombs, you and I. The child bed is our battlefield. We must learn to face it with a stiff lip.”

Lia lost herself in her thoughts as Rhaenyra conversed with her mother, continuing to twist the rings upon her fingers and shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, as her mind conjured scenarios she would prefer not to dwell upon. She wished for a secure position in life, but did not want to be confined to the birthing bed. She longed for power, to have authority, over herself, surely, and perhaps over others, yet did not share the princess’ desire to fight in battle. Her days of climbing trees and skinned knees were well behind her.

She was roused from her thoughts as Rhaenyra hurried past her.

“Where are you going?” Alicent called after her.

“I am late!” She replied over her shoulder, running in the direction of the Small Council chamber.

Lia propped herself up on her elbow, lying on her side as she watched Alicent carefully stitch delicate powder blue flowers into the fabric suspended within her embroidery hoop. Her own lay discarded beside her, she had given up when the thread had become knotted, in no mood to attempt to fix it.

“Alicent…” she began slowly, “do you ever think about why your father wanted to bring you to King’s Landing?”

Alicent kept her eyes upon her needlepoint, her tone matter of fact as she continued her work. “To instruct me in what is expected of a highborn lady.”

Lia huffed, leaning across and tugging Alicent’s sleeve to get her full attention. “Yes, but why?”

The other girl sighed, lowering her embroidery hoop into her lap and fixing Lia with an exasperated stare. “To give me the best possible opportunities in life, so that an appropriate match may be made for me.”

“And that is enough for you, is it? To simply be married off to a man who is not of your choosing?”

She lowered her gaze, her voice soft. “My mother did not choose my father, and yet they were very happy.”

“But is that what you want?”

“What is it that you are trying to get at?”

Lia hummed, flopping down onto her back against the plush rug that they sat upon in the solar, clasping her hands across her front as she stared up at the vaulted ceiling. “I am unsure of my own purpose, what it is that I want.”

Alicent nodded in understanding. “Well, there will be plenty of eligible knights at the upcoming tourney. Gwayne is going to be there,; he is competing in the jousting.”

She scoffed, recalling the gangly boy of ten, a mop of hair the colour of rust, that they had left behind in Oldtown all those years ago. “Ah, yes, how fares your older brother?” she asked, turning her head to the side to look at her friend.

“He is a knight now,” Alicent said proudly, “and quite handsome too.”

“Handsome?! How would you know?”

“He tells me so in his letters.”

The pair burst into peals of laughter, stopping abruptly as Otto stalked into the room, casting a disapproving glance at both of them. “Do the pair of you not have lessons to attend this afternoon?”

“We were waiting for Rhaenyra, so that we might all go together,” Alicent said apologetically, scrambling to her feet and smoothing the skirts of her dress down.

Lia rolled her eyes, knowing their fun was over, and rose to her feet too, running her fingers through her dark curls, rumpled from having laid upon the floor.

“Well, the Small Council has concluded its business for the day, and with it Rhaenyra’s duties as cupbearer, so run along. Do not keep your septa waiting.”

“Yes, Father,” Alicent said quietly, making her way out of the solar. The skirts of her pale blue gown swished behind her, the cascade of her auburn hair down back appearing as Autumnal leaves against a cloudless sky.

Lia readied to follow suit when Otto reached out, gently grasping her forearm and halting her movements. “I trust you are behaving yourselves?”

“Always,” she said with a saccharine smile, moving to pull away from him.

He tightened his grasp, and Lia lifted her eyes to meet The Hand’s, his gaze steely and unblinking, apparently unaffected by the mischief that glittered within her own. “The Princess is…spirited. Do not allow her to lead you or Alicent astray.”

She slipped away from him, pausing once in the corridor to look back over her shoulder at him. “You have raised a well mannered young woman, Ser Otto. She will heed your wishes, though I cannot say the same for myself.”

Lia did not know why, but she had always enjoyed testing how far she could push Otto Hightower. He seemed to have more patience for her misdeeds than that of Alicent’s, and there was a certain thrill to watching his features pinch into annoyance. Perhaps it was because she allowed him to be privy to the secrets of her and her two friends, and he did not wish to sever that connection with too harsh a scolding for misbehaviour. She still remembered when he had taken it upon himself to instruct her in the art of handwriting, claiming that hers looked as though “a spider had fallen into the inkwell and then scurried across the page.” She had taken her quill and flicked the end at him, watching as spots of black had splattered across his doublet. He had scowled, snatching up her wrist, but then she giggled. His grip on her had loosened and his expression had softened. If she did not know him better, she would have sworn she saw the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Rhaenyra did not turn up for lessons, leaving Lia and Alicent to endure the presence of the stern Septa Marlow without her. Lia would not have minded, except for the fact that that day’s lesson was history, her least favourite subject. She endured a scolding for not remembering that Princess Nymeria departed Rhoyne for Dorne, and by the time the hour was over she felt tired and irritable.

Alicent had always been more studious than she was, her ability to focus surpassing Lia’s, who was far too easily distracted by the world around her. The comings and goings of the Red Keep’s staff was far more interesting to her than what was contained within any book. She preferred to focus on the whisperings found within darkened alcoves of the castle, than the monotonous drone of Septa Marlow.

“Come,” Alicent said, pulling a thick historical tome from the library shelf. “We shall study in the Godswood, the fresh air will help you to remember.” There was no heat in the subtly pointed look she directed at Lia, so she followed without complaint, merely returning a glare of her own.

They had been seated beneath the heart tree in the Godswood not five minutes when Rhaenyra arrived, quickly settling herself between them, as was her customary place within the confines of their group. She placed her head in Alicent’s lap, and her legs across Lia’s, letting out a sigh as she gazed up at the clear blue sky through the branches of the tree.

“You did not attend lessons today,” Alicent said to her, hefting the book onto the grass beside her.

“I did not,” Rhaenyra replied simply.

Lia spied the Valyrian steel and ruby necklace that now rested around Rhaenyra’s neck. It had not been there earlier. She leant over, lifting the pendant delicately between two fingers.

“A gift from your father?”

Rhaenyra furrowed her brow, as though she found the idea ridiculous. “A gift from Daemon.”

“He’s back then?” Lia’s interest is piqued. Daemon had never paid her much attention. As a ward of House Hightower, she was of no consequence to him. However, he was endlessly fascinating to her; his volatility and reckless behaviour served an endless supply of gossip.

“Mmmm,” she hummed, “to take up his position as Lord Commander of the City Watch, and compete in the tourney.”

“And give you gifts,” Lia teased with a smirk, letting the pendant drop softly back against Rhaenyra’s clavicle before settling back against her palms upon the grass.

A look of worry flickered across Rhaenyra’s face, her mouth turning downwards as her gaze grew distant. She studied her fingers for a moment, then asked “So what did I miss today?”

“History,” Lia said bitterly, “Princess Nymeria’s escape from Rhoyne.”

“Have you read it?” Alicent asked her.

“Of course I have read it,” Rhaenyra said, “there was no need for me to be there.”

“Then when Princess Nymeria arrived in Dorne, who did she take to husband?” Alicent silenced Lia as she opened her mouth to answer. “Not you, you actually turned up today,”

Rhaenyra groused, shrugging her shoulders as she continued to lay across their laps. “A man.”

Alicent scowled, her tone clipped with annoyance. “And what was his name?”

“Lord something,” Rhaenyra replied petulantly.

“Gods, if only you had been there today,” Lia giggled, “you would have made me look good. Septa Marlow was furious.”

Rhaenyra smirked, playing with the rings upon her fingers. “She is funny when she is furious.”

“You are always like this when you are worried,” Alicent commented softly.

“Like what?” snapped Rhaenyra.

Alicent did not hedge her words, the only one to speak to their princess in this way. “Disagreeable. You are worried your father is about to overshadow you with a son.”

“I only worry for my mother. I hope for my father that he gets a son. As long as I can recall, it is all he has wanted.”

“You want him to have a son?” Lia asked.

“I want to fly with you both on dragonback, see the great wonders across the Narrow Sea, and eat only cake.”

Lia snorted as Alicent clicked her tongue. Lia did not mind the idea of seeing the great wonders, or existing solely on cake, however, the notion of taking flight on Syrax made the prospect seem far less exciting.

“We are trying to be serious,” Alicent protested, glancing warily at Lia, “well, at least I am.”

“I never jest about cake,” Rhaenyra said with a smirk.

“You are not worried about your position?” Lia asked, her curiosity piqued, masking the envy she felt that Rhaenyra possessed a position that could be threatened in the first place.

“I like this position,” she told Lia, wiggling her feet in her lap, making her laugh aloud, “it is quite comfortable.”

“Rhaenyra! Lia! It is impossible to have a serious conversation with either of you!”

The princess groaned, moving out of their laps and sitting cross legged in front of them. “Princess Nymeria led her Rhoynar across the Narrow Sea on ten thousand ships to flee their Valyrian pursuers. She took Lord Mors Martell of Dorne to husband and burned her own fleet off Sunspear to show her people that they were finished running.”

Lia raised her eyebrows, impressed by her knowledge, glancing over at Alicent to gauge her reaction. Before Alicent could respond, Rhaenyra leaned across and tore the page free from the book, letting it flutter into Alicent’s lap.

“So you remember.”

Alicent chewed her lip nervously. “If Septa Marlow sees this book–”

“Fuck the septa!” Rhaenyra interrupted.

Not for the first time, Lia felt envy burn acrid in her chest. Only a princess could get away with defacing a book from the Crown library and not have to suffer the consequences. She wondered if Rhaenyra had any awareness of the power she yielded over both her and Alicent. And if she was aware, would she even care?

Lia meandered through the halls, slippered feet quiet on the stone floor as she made her way to the library the next da She looked up, her attention stolen by Otto walking in the direction of the Small Council chambers. Changing course, she fell into step beside him, taking in the way his features were furrowed into annoyance. There could be only one explanation for it.

“So, you have heard that Prince Daemon has returned to the Capital?” she asked with a wry smile.

Otto paused, eyeing her carefully before ushering her into a nearby alcove. “What do you know?”

Lia shrugged. “Little and less. He gifted Rhaenyra a necklace, Valyrian steel.”

“An empty gesture,” he remarked bitterly, an exasperated sigh escaping him as he adjusted the collar of his forest green doublet. He cast a cursory glance over his shoulder to ensure they were not being watched, before fixing her with a heated stare.

“Oh, I am not so sure, you would be surprised at what people are willing to share if one is generous.” She reached up, tapping the bronzed hand that was pinned to his breast, as if to punctuate her point.

Otto’s much larger hand clutched hers, enveloping it, though it did not pull hers away. Her eyes shifted to where their hands now rested upon his chest, the gesture stirring something within her that she could not quite identify, filling her with both warmth and unease.

“I know a girl as clever as you cannot be swayed by trinkets,” he said softly, the low timbre of his voice vibrating through their connected hands.

Lia swallowed thickly, slowly pulling her hand back and letting it drop to her side, though still able to feel the place where his palm had rested. She felt an overwhelming need to push back against whatever had transpired, and so doubled her efforts to be cheeky. “If you are not feeling generous, perhaps Prince Daemon may have additional trinkets to spare.”

Otto straightened, his expression turning stony.

There it was, the annoyance that she felt much more at home with.

“You should not covet the actions of that brute of a man. Keep away from him.” He glared down at her, a silent warning before leaving her alone in the alcove, as he continued on his way.

Lia smiled to herself. Provoking Otto suddenly seemed much more appealing to her. If she could capture the interest of Daemon, then perhaps the Hand of the King would be more forthcoming in furthering her position at court, and making clear his plans for her.

“My dearest Lia,

It is with deep regret that I must inform you that your mother and I will be unable to attend the King’s tourney. Your mother is suffering a fever and we did not wish to risk the journey to King’s Landing when our efforts must be spent upon ensuring her recovery. Your mother has requested that your brothers stay here at the Whispering Sound, as she fears her worry over them both competing will worsen her condition.

We have passed along our apologies to the Lord Hand, however, please send him my regards. I hope that life in the capital is treating you well and that you are behaving as befits the royal company that you keep.

Warmest wishes,

Your loving father, Lord Owen Costayne”

Lia gripped the parchment tightly between her fingers, having lost count of the number of times she had read it since it was brought to her by the maester two days prior. She lost herself in the words, the din of hoofbeats and roar of spectators fading to nothing as her eyes flitted between the letter and the lists, as though if she concentrated hard enough she could will her brothers into attendance.

Rhaenyra sat beside her, equally morose, her brow pinched in worry. Shortly after the tourney began, King Viserys had announced to all in attendance that Queen Aemma had begun her labours. It was obvious that Rhaenyra would rather be at her mother’s side than watching this display. However, it had not been allowed.

Sitting on the other side of Rhaenyra, Alicent had picked her nails bloody once more. A combination of worry for both the Queen and her older brother, Gwayne, who would be competing in the tourney.

Lia crumpled the parchment between her fingers, stowing it up her sleeve as she leaned forward, looking out across their elevated position on the stands, eager for a distraction.

“Who is that?” she asked, nodding towards a young man she did not recognise.

“The Tarly squire?” Rhaenyra responded, clearly as keen to focus on something else as she was.

“Mmhmm,” Lia affirmed, glancing back at her.

“Lord Massey’s son, I think. He is promised to Elinor Stokeworth, they are to be married as soon as he wins his knighthood.”

“Best get on with it,” Alicent chimed in, leaning forward conspiratorially, “I heard that Lady Elinor is hiding a swollen belly beneath her dress.”

Lia and Rhaenyra gasped, the three of them quickly falling into fits of giggles, though she was pulled out of her mirth when she felt a firm hand upon her shoulder. Looking back, she saw Otto seated directly behind her. He leaned in close enough that both his breath and his beard tickled softly at the shell of her ear as he spoke quietly, isolating her from the huddle of her two friends.

“I thought you might offer your favour to Gwayne.”

She pulled back, regarding him impassively, before speaking much louder than he had to her. “Actually, I intend to offer my favour to Prince Daemon,” she said with an amused smirk, “I have not yet had the pleasure to welcome him back to the capital.”

Otto’s nostrils flared in obvious annoyance, his gaze unblinking as he exhaled heavily, sitting back against his seat beside the King, though his focus remained upon her. His eyes raked carefully over the delicate manner in which she had pinned up her ringlets, revealing the slender slope of her neck. Lia suppressed a laugh as she turned back towards Rhaenyra and Alicent, pleased with her efforts, and the three of them continued to share gossip about those participating in the lists.

She eyed the knights carefully, wondering to herself if any of them would be a suitable match for her. There was no denying that Daemon cut every bit the imposing and extravagant figure, the plume of his dragon shaped helmet blood red and striking against the grey of the stone walls. It was a pity he was already wed, albeit unhappily, to Lady Rhea Royce. Daemon’s presence within King’s Landing had always been so sporadic, coupled with Lia’s being too young to appreciate what a handsome man he was, that she supposed he was never destined to be a suitor for her anyway. A pity, but it would not stop her from expressing interest, if only to incite the look of irritation on Otto’s face that she had grown to enjoy so much.

So engrossed in what was going on, she did not notice when King Viserys slipped away from his seat. Daemon rode towards the stands, a cocky grin upon his face as her, Rhaenyra and Alicent rushed to the railing to greet him.

“Lady Lia,” he drawled with a courteous nod, “a fine young woman you are growing into.”

She felt her skin flush at the compliment, glad of the fact she had opted to wear her house colours for the occasion; she knew that the gold and black of the gown complimented her complexion. It was an effort to resist the urge to both giggle and look behind her for Otto’s reaction.

“You flatter me, my prince,” she responded sweetly, “I wish you luck, though I am not sure you will need it.”

“I am confident that I can best my opponent, but I would ask for the favour of the Lady Alicent Hightower to ensure my victory.”

Lia’s face fell, her heart sinking in disappointment. She watched Alicent move sheepishly back towards their seats, meeting her father’s eye as she took the intricately woven band of flowers and ribbon. She knew from Otto’s sour expression that it was merely a ploy from Daemon to further upset the King’s Hand, having already beaten his son spectacularly in the lists. However, the rejection stung all the same. She wanted it to be her favour that Daemon had asked for.

As she took her seat again, she grasped her own hoop of feathers and twine, half turning to toss it haphazardly into Otto’s lap. “Here, you might as well have it,” she muttered sullenly, “I have no one else to give it to.”

Misery clung to Lia like a black shroud as she leaned back in her seat, visibly sulking and crossing her arms, as she watched the tourney, but did not really see it. She had hoped that the day would prosper a potential match for her, though, with Alicent’s favour already given away, Rhaenyra was her only rival. There was no way she could compete with a princess.

Her lips twitched with smug satisfaction when the mystery knight with the red and black spotted shield bested Daemon; a small retribution in Lia’s eyes for having snubbed her favour for Alicent’s. She did not bother to join her friends when they rushed back to the railing, both eager to greet the man who managed to unhorse The Rogue Prince, not even swayed by Alicent’s gasp of “he’s Dornish.” What was the point? She saw the way his dark eyes glittered with interest, but it was not interest directed at her; no, they glittered only for Rhaenyra.

Lia knew that she could be the most comely of maidens in all of the Seven Kingdoms and it would do little to sway a suitor when presented with a Targaryen Princess. She could not help the jealousy that swirled like a maelstrom inside of her as she watched Rhaenyra throw her favour down towards him.

The smile that graced the princess’ fair features as she returned to her seat only faltered as Otto touched her delicately on the shoulder, the colour draining from her face as he whispered to her. As the news spread throughout the royal box, Lia’s eyes remained fixated upon the floor of the stands where her favour now lay, trampled under foot as people rushed back towards the Red Keep. It was crushed, and with it her hopes for the day.

Queen Aemma was dead.

The wind whipped Lia’s dark curls around her face as she stood upon the clifftop, the bite of the icy sea breeze nipping at her cheeks. The wrapped bodies of both Aemma and her short lived son, Baelon, laid prone upon the pyre that stood before the modest crowd gathered for the funeral. Syrax looked over them from her perch, awaiting Rhaenyra’s command, her neck undulating with discomfort under the feeling of her rider’s grief.

She could not imagine a more brutal death; cut open like livestock in the birthing bed, and for naught. The babe that had been tugged from the Queen’s womb had lived but for a few hours after her passing. Her heart ached for Rhaenyra, who choked on the command of “drakarys!”, the word faltering with unshed tears as she ordered her dragon to engulf her deceased mother and brother in flames.

Lia knew she felt pity for Rhaenyra, but was she truly sad that Aemma was dead? She did not know. She knew it was proper to express condolences, but she did not think she was experiencing grief. Would she feel sadness at her own mother’s passing? She was as much an acquaintance to her as the Queen had been, considering how many years had passed since she had last seen home. It was a disquieting thought, and one she was eager to push from her mind.

She desperately wished she had a hand to hold, to squeeze for comfort, and could not help but notice the way that Alicent gripped her father’s with such intensity that her knuckles were white. Stood to the other side of him, Otto had ensured that Lia’s arm linked through his, a gesture which she found oddly mature in comparison to the childlike manner in which Alicent’s fingers entwined with his. Perhaps it is just because she is not family, she pondered, though memories of the intimacy with which he had held her hand to his chest just a few days prior linger at the back of her mind. She was being treated as though she was a lady, when she had never craved more to be comforted as though she was a little girl.

A cavernous void opened between Lia, Alicent, and Rhaenyra in the weeks that followed, filled only by loss. Lia spent much of her time alone, not knowing how to comfort Rhaenyra in her grief, for it had made her angry. Her tone was curt whenever Lia attempted to engage her in conversation and she had withdrawn so far into herself that she did not know how to coax her back out. Deep down she knew that her friend was justified in her bitterness towards her father, for he had killed her mother in his desperate attempt for an heir, an heir that barely lived long enough to draw his first breath.

Lia wondered what her own expression of such grief would look like, had the circumstances befallen her.

Otto had become more protective of Alicent. He sought Lia’s company less often, instead looming over his only daughter like a shadow, summoning her to his quarters to speak to her of things that Alicent would not allow Lia to be privy to. In all of her years in King’s Landing, despite missing her family, she had never felt lonely. Now it was a feeling that overwhelmed her with such potency that she had picked up a quill more than a dozen times, hurriedly scrawling a plea to her father to allow her to return home. Each time she had thought better of it and tossed the balled up parchment into the fireplace. She had yet to find her purpose within King’s Landing, but she knew in her heart that her fate was not to run away like a mewling child, simply because her friends were preoccupied.

Deciding she could bear her own company no longer, Lia emerged from her quarters, seeking the comfort of a familiar face. She found it in Alicent, but as she was about to call out to her, she faltered, thinking better of it. There was something strange about the way her friend carried herself, her gaze downcast, trepidation in her step. Lia slipped into an alcove, peering out discreetly from behind the wall. Alicent was not dressed as she usually was, the royal blue gown she now wore was much too grown up. She narrowed her eyes as she studied the fabric. It was a dress that had belonged to Alyrie.

Curious to see why Alicent had suddenly taken to wearing her late mother’s clothes, Lia quietly followed behind her, mindful to keep her steps light and maintain her distance, so as not to get caught. She froze as she saw Alicent slip through the door of the king’s apartments, a feeling of dread forming a pit in her stomach. Rhaenyra had not spoken to her father properly since the passing of the queen, so what possible reason could Alicent have for keeping such close company with him?

It was with this question in mind that she stormed into Otto’s quarters the next day, a seething and lingering anger bolstering her. She did not knock, though her intrusion was met with only the slightest raise of an eyebrow by the king’s Hand as he looked up from his writing desk.

“Lia, to what do I owe the interruption?” he asked, his tone friendlier than she had been anticipating, causing her courage to waiver as her outrage quelled slightly.

She opened her mouth to speak, stammering over her words as she struggled to get them out. Why on earth was he not annoyed by her just bursting in? She had been prepared to be met with resistance, and it completely unraveled what she had planned to say. Closing her eyes and exhaling heavily, she shook her head as if to clear her mind and tried again.

“Alicent has been visiting the king.”

Otto pursed his lips, carefully placing his quill back into the ink pot, before he leaned back against his chair. “She has,” he said matter of factly, “the king is alone in his grief. Alicent has been of great comfort to him.”

Lia blinked rapidly, a wave of nausea churning her stomach, as she realised that this was not only information that the king’s Hand was already privy to, and he did not have an issue with it, but he was also the one that has arranged these visits in the first place. She narrowed her eyes as her shock and disgust turned to sudden anger, simmering hot beneath the surface of her skin.

“So it would not be an issue were I to offer him comfort also?” Lia asked, her jaw jutting out defiantly.

Finally, a flicker of annoyance passed across Otto’s face, his brow furrowing as he clasped his hands upon the desk. “You shall do no such thing. And you will speak of Alicent’s visits to no one.”

“Or what?”

“Or,” he began, rising from his seat, suddenly towering over her, “the pleas to return to the Whispering Sound that you crumple into the fireplace may just find their way to your father.”

Her blood ran icy cold as, simultaneously, her cheeks blazed with heat. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came to her. Tears of humiliation pricked her eyes. He knew. Of course he knew; the Hand had spies everywhere, she had acted as one herself on many occasions.

Otto��s expression softened as he took in her look of upset, and he sat heavily back in his seat with a sigh. “There is no need for tears, you—”

“Why am I even here? You may as well return me home,” she interrupted, her voice thick with emotion.

His features remained gentle and impassive as he regarded her silently for a moment. He then reached into a drawer of his writing desk, pulling out her favour and holding it out for her to take. Each feather and intricate loop of twine was undamaged, in seemingly pristine condition. She examined it in wide eyed wonder as she accepted it from him. It was as good as the day she had made it, no longer crushed as it had been when she had last laid her eyes upon it.

“How? Why?” She whispered, disbelief and confusion causing her brow to furrow.

“You may have need of it yet. Your time here is far from over. Now run along, I have important matters to attend to.”

She wanted to protest, to press him for further answers, but instead the authority in his tone had her obediently turning and leaving with more questions than she had initially arrived with.

The late afternoon sunshine beat down upon Lia as she sat on a stone bench in the gardens, the soft rays warming her skin, casting the last of its amber brilliance in the hours before dusk. She held her favour delicately, fearful that too tight a touch might cause it to break apart again, as she studied it for imperfections, wondering how it could have been so expertly mended, and why.

“I would have thought you would have given that away at the tourney.”

Lia startled slightly, lifting her head at the sudden sound of Rhaenyra’s voice. A playful smile graced the princess’ lips as Lia watched as she came to sit beside her. Rhaenyra reached out a delicate finger to stroke across one of the favour’s feathers.

Lia returned her smile, though it did not meet her eyes. “I found no one I liked enough to give it to.” It was a half truth, but admitting that Otto had it repaired and returned to her would have raised questions that she is unable to answer.

Rhaenyra hummed in acknowledgement, before facing forwards, her eyes fixed upon the row of rose bushes planted into the flower beds in front of them. The two girls sat in uncomfortable silence, until Lia could bear it no longer.

“I am sorry I have not been there for you, it is not an easy thing to lose your mother,” she said softly, glancing sideways at Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra shook her head, turning to face Lia, gripping her hand in one of hers. “It is me that should be sorry. I have not made it easy for you, for anyone, to comfort me. I was just so, so…”

“...angry?” Lia offered, intertwining their fingers. The warmth was soothing, and she had not realised until this moment just how dearly she had missed her.

“Hmmm. Did you know that Father sent Daemon away?”

Lia’s eyes widened, though it was no surprise that Daemon, prone to coming and going as he pleased, was no longer in the capital. Tt was a shock to her, however, that this time his absence was at the command of his own brother. “What for?”

Rhaenyra swallowed thickly, averting her gaze. “My father would not say, but I have heard whispers. He made a jest about my brother to a crowd in a pleasure house, apparently.”

“And your father banished him?”

“I am sure there is more to it than that, especially considering that Daemon has been removed as my father’s heir.”

Lia raised her eyebrows, her lips parting slightly as she struggled to take in the information. It appeared she had missed an awful lot in the weeks that she and Rhaenyra had not spoken. “So, who will be his heir now?”

“He has asked me to be.” Rhaenyra appeared less sure of herself than usual as she said this, her voice quiet and uncertain, as though she felt simultaneously crushed by the weight of the responsibility, but also terrified it would be taken away from her again.

Lia smiled at that, a gesture of both gentle comfort and genuine happiness, though she could not help the pang of envy she felt at both her friends having secured their futures. Alicent’s own advancement under the watchful eye of Otto, and now Rhaenyra’s succession to the Iron Throne.

“You will make a fine queen.”

Rhaenyra gave Lia’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “So, where is Alicent?”

‘With your father, most likely.’

Lia knew she should not say; it would have devastating consequences for their friendship, and Otto would be furious. Yet she could not help the pang of guilt she felt at withholding such information from Rhaenyra.

“I am unsure. Does she not know yet?”

Rhaenyra shook her head. “I had hoped to find the two of you together. I will need you both to help ready me for my proclamation. I feel too nervous to allow my lady’s maids to do it.” She paused, her fingers tightening once more, twisting their hands together further. “Lia, I need you, I need my friends.”

Lia’s heart ached for her, and she leaned in, resting her forehead softly against Rhaenyra’s in silent assent. The two girls remained like that, the void between them bridged by a desperate need to cling to the other for support.

Lia stood on a wooden step stool to the side of Rhaenyra, the tips of her fingers sore from the sheer number of pins she had had to press into the princess’ intricately braided hair, simply to keep her headdress in place. She pulled back to admire her work, a small smile pulling at her mouth. The intricate gold and black halo was positioned perfectly upon Rhaenyra’s head. Satisfied, she stepped down to move towards the bureau to fetch the jewelry.

Alicent stood behind her, helping to drape the heavy black cloak around Rhaenyra’s shoulders, beaded gold and red dragons adorning the lapels. It was not until Lia moved back towards them that she noticed Rhaenyra’s sombre expression in the looking glass.

She stood rooted in place, running her fingers over the smooth gold of the earrings, not quite knowing what to do.

‘We could run away from all of this.’

‘Let us cross the narrow sea on dragonback and eat only cake.’

It appeared that Alicent had also noticed Rhaenyra’s sadness, as her hands had stilled upon her shoulders, her gaze soft and sympathetic as it met the rincess’ in the reflective surface.

Wordlessly, Rhaenyra tugged Lia towards her and the three girls embraced, as much a gesture of comfort for them as it was for her. A silent reassurance of ‘I am okay. I must do this.’

Lia clung tighter, part of her wanting to reassure her friend, another simply wanting to smother the voice in her mind that raged in jealousy over the fact that Rhaenyra would one day rule the Seven Kingdoms, yet somehow had the audacity to feel sad about it.

As Lia entered her own chambers to ready herself for the ceremony, her eye was immediately drawn to the emerald green fabric that lay across her bedspread. As she drew nearer, she saw that it was a gown, long sleeved with a plunging neckline, and intricate golden thread in the seams. She ran her fingers over the material. The brocade felt expensive to the touch, far grander than anything she had worn before. There was a note sealed with wax resting atop it.

“A trinket, and a gesture of generosity - O.H”

Lia did not need to peer into a looking glass to know her cheeks had turned scarlet. A gift from Otto, and with the timing of when it was delivered to her, she knew he would be expecting her to wear it to the proclamation.

She felt far too grown up, the dress accentuating dips and curves upon her body she was unaware she even had until she had put it on. Yet another step away from girlhood, but towards what she had no idea.

Lia had never felt self conscious before, but she was certain that, as she walked through the corridors of the Red Keep, she shone like a beacon, a lurid invitation for all that she passed to stare at her. She longed to run back to her quarters, to tear off the dress and change into something more unassuming, but knew that a refusal of such an extravagant gift from Otto was a line that even she dared not cross.

As the lords of the Seven Kingdoms gathered in the Great Hall of the Red Keep to swear fealty to Rhaenyra as the heir to the Iron Throne, she looked every bit the future queen in her Targaryen finery, and it was not until Lia saw this that she understood the significance of Otto’s gift.

Her friends were ascending towards womanhood, and she must too.

Lia watched on, with Otto stood between her and Alicent. She wanted to feel pride for her friend.However, it was hopelessness and uncertainty over her own future that held her firmly in their grasp. She stood in the presence of two future monarchs, but what was to become of her?

“You look lovely,” Otto leaned down to murmur in her ear, his breath ghosting across her neck.

And as she felt the warmth and weight of his hand come to rest upon the small of her back, it seemed as though the walls of the castle closed in around her as tightly as the bodice of her gown.

#fic recommendations #would love to see him actually fall for her and then at some point get blindsided by his own feelings 🔪#very very interested in finding out which side Lia picks when the Dance starts #author ewanmitchellcrumbs #hotd fanfiction #hotd OCs

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dior-luxury · 3 days ago

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hiiiya can u write like kiyora jin confessing and how that would go👾plss♡

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐲 𝐓𝐨 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐏𝐭.𝟐

( ✧ ) ────── 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 . 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚 - 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 .

- [𝐜𝐡.] kiyora jin . aiku oliver . bachira meguru . yo hiori . michael kaiser - [𝐩:𝐬] high school au . subtle jealousy . sfw

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Thank you so much for the prompt! >_< I also added more characters of my choice, im glad you guys enjoy this series! Also it's my first time EVER writing for Michael so hopefully it's not that bad :")... don't hurt me stans!!!

Jin Kiyora

Jin is the kind of person who prefers to observe from the sidelines rather than actively engage with others. Instead of approaching you directly to introduce himself or strike up a conversation, he tends to rely on chance encounters and the flow of fate to guide his interactions.

If he were ever to muster the confidence to say "hi," it would likely take him a whole year just to work up the nerve to make that initial connection.

Once you and Jin begin conversing, you'll notice that he is genuinely attentive to the details of your interests and preferences. He listens closely to the things you mention, making mental notes of what brings you joy.

During the classes you both shared, he would secretly steal glances at you, sketching small, detailed drawings. After class, he would carefully fold each drawing and slip it into your locker, tucked among your books.

On special occasions—like your birthday or holidays—he would surprise you with thoughtfully chosen gifts that reflect your tastes, demonstrating his effort to make you feel appreciated and valued.

Jin's competitive nature also shines through in his interactions with you. If he sees anyone else trying to impress you in a way that rivals his own efforts, he would perceive it as a challenge or a competition.

This drive to stand out and be the one to "wow" you fuels his determination to ensure that you notice him and appreciate what he brings to the table.

"Not that sure you'll accept but... you seem cool. We should date."

Oliver Aiku

Oliver, despite his pattern of frequently ending relationships, has developed an interest in someone. He is known to engage with a new partner almost daily, which suggests a difficulty in committing to a single person.

However, should he form a genuine attraction towards you, his intentions would likely be very apparent.

Oliver's approach to expressing his interest would involve a series of pronounced flirting behaviors.

This might include asking for your phone number, which serves as a means of establishing a direct line of communication, as well as inquiring about your personal plans and activities, reflecting a desire to know more about your life.

He may feel compelled to share various topics of conversation that he finds engaging, seeking to deepen your connection.

Furthermore, Oliver is likely to propose a variety of outings or social engagements, often framing them as casual and lighthearted.

He might characterize these invitations as opportunities to spend time together “just for fun,” rather than presenting them as traditional romantic dates.

This approach reflects both his playful demeanor and perhaps a reluctance to fully acknowledge the romantic nature of his intentions.

He is the kind of person who surprises you with thoughtful gifts seemingly out of the blue, all while maintaining an air of casual indifference.

When you express your gratitude, he waves it off, insisting that he's merely performing a "good deed" and that there's nothing special about it.

Oliver is determined to make a positive impression on you during physical education class.

He hopes that his hard work and commitment will stand out and earn your praise.

His nonchalance contrasts with the genuine thought and effort he puts into selecting gifts, leaving you to wonder whether he fully understands the impact of his gestures.

"Hey Ba- I mean, Y/N! I got you flowers~ Hopefully you're not allergic."

Meguru Bachira

If Bachira found himself harboring a crush on you, it would become glaringly obvious to everyone around him, even if he attempted to disguise his feelings.

The moment you entered the room, a subtle shift would occur; his facade of calm would crack, revealing the flustered state beneath.

His cheeks would flush a vivid shade of pink, spreading warmth to the tips of his ears—a telltale sign of his embarrassment and affection.

In contrast to his casual demeanor with others, Bachira would be hyper-aware of your presence. His eyes would seek you out, locking onto yours with an intensity that lingered far longer than what was necessary.

That shared gaze would speak volumes, conveying unspoken emotions and a longing that transcended mere words, as if he were silently confessing his feelings through the depths of his eyes.

Whenever you crossed paths, Bachira would eagerly seize the moment, keen to engage you in conversation. His topics would vary widely, encompassing everything from light-hearted banter to profound discussions that sparked deeper connections.

Each interaction would feel electric, filled with an eagerness to both learn more about you and to share in joyful exchanges of laughter and insight.

It would become increasingly clear that you occupied a special place in his thoughts—his interest driving him to volunteer for conversations at every opportunity, making it abundantly evident that you had captured his attention in a way that no one else ever could.

"Hey Y/N! Wanna go hang out this weekend?~"

Hiori Yo

Hiori possesses a remarkable ability to enchant those around him with his steadfast reliability and captivating charm.

Though he carries a naturally shy demeanor, he consistently makes a valiant effort to push through his reservations, much like the spirited Bachira, in hopes of leaving a lasting positive impression on you.

His genuine excitement about spending time together is palpable. Hiori often takes the initiative to invite you out, eagerly proposing a variety of enjoyable activities that allow you both to connect over shared interests.

Whether it’s engaging in thrilling video game battles or exploring new hobbies, these moments not only spark a refreshing sense of friendly competition but also provide a safe space for him to unveil his true personality amidst a relaxed atmosphere.

What truly sets Hiori apart is his deep awareness of his feelings for you.

He is committed to ensuring that you fully recognize the significance he places on your connection, going out of his way to communicate openly and transparently.

This thoughtful approach of his is not merely about expressing affection; it’s about nurturing a sense of security in the budding relationship you both are cultivating.

Although he doesn't put on a show to win your admiration, he always goes out of his way to assist you with your schoolwork whenever you need a helping hand.

With every conversation, he reinforces the message that he genuinely cares, striving to make you feel cherished and understood.

"Y/N-san... would you like to be my girlfriend?"

Michael Kaiser

Michael is anything but shy; in fact, he exudes a confident energy that draws people in. He has a playful spark in his eye that suggests he’s always ready for a challenge.

When it comes to pursuing something—or someone—he wants, hesitation is not in his repertoire. Right now, his focus is squarely on you.

Whenever an opportunity arises to strike up a conversation, whether during lectures or casual moments in the hallways, Michael seizes it without a second thought.

He has a knack for making those interactions feel effortless and engaging, effortlessly navigating between topics to keep you intrigued.

In class, he doesn’t shy away from sitting next to you, claiming the seat with an air of casual authority.

His presence is undeniable as he subtly glances at the person who is meant to be beside you, a cheeky challenge in his eyes that warns them to keep their distance.

Michael is well aware that they wouldn’t dare disrupt his plans.

His game plan revolves around charming you with his smooth talk and playful banter, aiming to win you over with both confidence and charisma.

Whether it's a well-timed compliment or a joke that makes you laugh, he’s intent on capturing your attention and affection, determined to show you just how special you are to him.

"You free after school? No? Too bad, you are now. And we're going on a date."

#bllk headcanons #bllk scenarios #bllk x reader #blue lock scenarios #bluelock x reader #blue lock fanfic #blue lock x reader #bluelock reactions #bluelock headcanons #kiyora jin x reader #oliver aiku x reader #bachira meguru x reader #hiori yo x reader #michael kaiser x reader #𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐑-𝐋𝐔𝐗𝐔𝐑𝐘

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bijouxcarys · 1 day ago

Text

Ain't Nobody's Business (Roman Reigns x fem!Reader)

WWE Masterlist

Description: Gionna's incessant teasing about your relationship with Joe comes to a head when you're pushed too far. On the bright side, it leads you to confess what you've been wanting to get off your chest for so long... **THIS IS THE SEQUEL TO "PROVE IT" **

Warnings: NSFW, MINORS DNI, fluff, smut, aftercare, hurt/comfort, oral sex (f and m receiving, 69, daddy kink, pet names, praise kink, mild spanking, comfort sex, cum marking, unprotected sex, idiots in love, multiple orgasms, fingering, spitting, dom/sub, lord forgive me, what am I talking about I'm a satanist <3

Word Count: 12.1k

Tags: @empressdede @thetribalqueen @heauxvibez @bigsimperika

@cyberdejos2 @keyaho @headoftheetable @jstarr86 @southerngirl41

@tshepisho @cry1nwhileimcumm1n @maeb99 @thedesireds @dzdndcnfsd

@expert-texpert @niknakbucks92 @sillyteecup @trentybenty @pittieprincess22

@electronicwitchsandwich @thefairywithboots @eringobragh420

(If you want to be tagged in any future Roman or Damian fics, let me know!)

The night sky over Belfast was clear, a welcome switch up from how chaotic everything was back inside the arena. The show had been electric, and it was just another reason to add to the list of why European tours were Y/N’s favourite live shows to take part of.

“Fans are always so loud over here,” she commented casually, eyeing her phone in her right hand as she adjusted the strap of her gear bag slung over her shoulder with her left. Her muscles were all tensed up and aching from her match with Trinity, but it was a familiar and welcoming sensation. This was what she signed up for, and it was never not worth the pain.

“What can I say? My people know how to make some noise,” Becky answered, a clear sense of pride in her voice.

“You can say that again,” Colby cackled with his tongue sticking out, wrapping an arm around Becky and pulling her in.

“Ew,” Gi scrunched her nose up, looking at Y/N with an exaggerated grimace. The two of them hung back slightly, behind Colby and Becky, and Gi had done nothing but eye her all night with that infuriatingly knowing look.

Ever since Miss Daddio over here had overhead that night in the hotel she’d been relentless with her teasing. And Y/N could just feel it coming again, the inevitable moment when Gi would start poking at her, trying to get a rise out of her.

“So,” Gi began casually as the four of them approached the car, “Who are you texting?”

Y/N didn’t look up from her phone, trying to keep her features neutral. “Nobody interesting.”

“Mmhmm,” Gi hummed, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “That’s why you’ve been glued to that thing since your match, right?”

The phone buzzed again with a new message just as she spoke. Y/N glanced down, a little flutter in her chest when she saw Joe’s name on the screen.

Joe: You on ur way back now?

Gionna leaned in, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen. “Is that who I think it is?”

Y/N quickly tilted the phone away, typing out a quick reply.

Y/N: Yeah, just leaving the arena now.

“You’re sooo bad at hiding it at this point, Y/N.”

“And you’re sooo good at getting on my nerves tonight, Gi.”

Joe: You good?

Becky and Colby were already in the front of the car, Colby behind the wheel and Becky beside him. Y/N and Gionna slid into the back, settling in for the ride back to the hotel. As they pulled out of the parking lot, the conversation in the front resumed. They were super amped about the rest of the tour, and more so about the fact that they’d actually be able to be together the whole time. And Y/N would be lying if she said it didn’t provoke a sort of envy from within her.

She just couldn’t help but wonder if she and Joe would ever be able to be like that.

“You hear from Charlotte since your match?” Colby asked Becky.

“No, I didn’t get a chance to,” she said, putting her phone on the dashboard whilst she tied her hair up. “Saw the doctor come out of medical, but I don’t know what happened.”

“Damn,” he shook his head. “I’m sure she’s good—even though that suplex was clean as fuck.”

“Yeah, but she wasn’t supposed to do a whole flip and land on her nose!”

“Ain’t your fault, you got them muscles, baby.”

“You’re so annoying.”

Y/N was trying to focus on the conversation up front, but Gionna wasn’t making it easy. She just kept nudging her, whispering little jabs that only she could hear. Whilst Y/N knew Gi wasn’t trying to piss her off, it had been a long fucking night, and all Y/N wanted to do was curl up in bed and enjoy the rest of the night before they had to head out again in the morning.

Joe: ???

“You gonna see him again?” Gi asked quietly.

Gritting her teeth, Y/N angled herself away from her, trying her best to keep her phone concealed. “Not now, Gi, please…”

“C’mon, you gotta give me something at this point…” she trailed off, widening her eyes and pursing out her lower lip. “You kinda owe me after subjecting me to such horrors.”

Y/N snorted a little, glancing at her friend, but kept scrolling through her phone.

“I mean, I’ve kept your secret this long, haven’t I?”

This earned her a glare from Y/N. “That’s because you don’t have a choice.”

Y/N: Liv’s being a pain in the ass…

“You know it’s only a matter of time before someone else figures this shit out.”

Before Y/N could respond, Colby’s voice cut through into the back. “What are you two whispering about back there?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Y/N said quickly, sending him a friendly smile as she caught his eye in the rearview mirror.

“Uh-huh,” Colby replied, not really buying it. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

Becky turned slightly in her seat, giving Y/N a curious look. She even narrowed her eyes a bit, as though it was going to make her crack.

“What?”

The redhead just smirked a little, before returning to her normal position.

Joe: She knows, doesn’t she?

Y/N looked down at the text message, a small rush of guilt washing over her. How was she supposed to tell him that not only did Gionna know about them, but she overheard Y/N being fingerbanged to death a metre and a half away from her?

Y/N: …

Y/N: Don’t make me answer that😩

Joe: I ain’t mad baby

Joe: just wish you’d tell me

Joe: I don’t care that she knows

Y/N: You might not, but you’re not the one having to sit there and listen to her go on about it are youuuu ugh

Joe: 🤭

Y/N: It’s not funny!

Y/N: It’s pissing me off

Joe: Sorry sorry… i know it upsets you

Joe: Just got to the hotel. 217 if you wanna come see me

Y/N: Do you want me to?

Joe: I always want u to come see me baby girl

Joe: Can’t get enough of your fine ass

Y/N was in the process of swiping her keycard to the room she was sharing with Gi when she saw that last message. Even in message form, he never failed to get her all worked up. It was like she could hear him speaking the exact words to her.

Y/N: Lemme settle in first

Y/N: …and I’ll think about it ;)

Joe: Tease

She knew damn well she’d be paying that man a visit tonight.

Letting out a deep breath, she kicked off her shoes and dropped her gear bag by the door. The exhaustion from her match was starting to set in, and all she wanted really was a hot shower and some peace and quiet.

Gi was already sprawled out on her bed, flipping through the channels on the TV.

“Anything interesting on?” Y/N asked passively, covering her mouth as she yawned.

“Uh,” Gi hummed, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Ooh!”

Taking a glance at the TV, Y/N instantly recognised the familiar head of wet, dark hair, along with that familiar black vest. Of course, he had to be on the fucking television. Of course it’s that moment Gi happens to switch over to. Of fucking course.

“Oh, look, it’s your boyfriend.”

Y/N groaned internally. “Who?” she feigned innocence.

With a drawn out sigh, Gi pulled herself back up into a seated position and turned the TV down. “Come on, Y/N. Stop ignoring it and fess up. It’s not like people haven’t noticed you two practically eye-fucking each other, it’s just that I’m the only one who’ll say anything about it!”

“Pretty sure Trin would,” Y/N smirked, knowing full well that if people really were noticing such interactions, it would have gotten back to Trinity, and then to Jon. And then Josh. We all know what the fallout of that would be.

“Uh-huh…” Gi grinned, eyeing her friend up. “It’s seriously like you’re in your own little world whenever he’s within range.”

Y/N simply ignored the comment, heading to the bathroom and closing the door behind her. She leaned against the sink, staring at her reflection for a minute. Of course, Joe had been on her mind all night. He was always on her mind, but being able to watch him in front of thousands of people in his element… it just pushed her closer to the edge of letting everyone know—letting him know—that she loved that man with her entire being.

For a few blissful moments, Y/N managed to push everything out of her mind whilst taking a hot shower, steam filling up the small bathroom as she let the water wash away the sweat and stress of the night. Gionna’s teasing, the pressure of keeping things under wraps with Joe, even the thrill of the match. It was just her and the calming rush, and that was exactly what she needed.

But as soon as she stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself, she could hear Gi’s voice through the door.

“So, are you gonna tell me what’s really going on, or am I gonna have to drag it out of you?” she called playfully, but with an undertone of persistence.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she dried off and pulled on her cotton shorts and an old, oversized shirt—the kind of comfortable clothes she always wore to bed. She took a deep breath before opening the bathroom door, steeling herself for whatever Gionna was about to say.

“Please can we not do this right now?” she asked as she stepped back into the room, running a hand through her damp hair. She tossed her dirty clothes into the corner on top of her suitcase and climbed onto her bed, sitting cross-legged.

Gionna wasn’t having it. “Come on, Y/N! It’s been driving me nuts. You and Roman—you guys together together, or just se—”

Y/N groaned, flopping onto her back and staring up at the ceiling. “It’s nothing, Gi. We’re just… I don’t know. Figuring things out, I guess.”

Gi’s eyes lit up with excitement, and she bounced on her bed, leaning forward. “Figuring things out? That sounds like progress! Oh my God, Y/N, this is so exciting! I knew you two had something going on, you gotta tell me everything—how it started, what he’s like when it’s just the two of you, all the details!”

Bitch, you heard most of that shit.

But she didn’t let on, even though her patience was fraying at the edges. “There’s not much to tell.”

“Don’t give me that,” Gi shot back, grinning. “I’m your friend, Y/N. I can see it all over your face. You like each other a lot.”

Y/N closed her eyes. Gionna meant well, but she didn’t understand how complicated things were. “It’s not that simple, alright?”

“Why not?” Gi pressed, her voice full of genuine curiosity. “You’re both adults, you’re both single—what’s stopping you?” Suddenly, her face dropped. “Wait, he is single, right?”

“Yes, he’s single!” Y/N insisted. “Well… recently divorced—but he’s single, Gionna, that’s all you need to know.”

“But–”

“Stop!” Y/N finally broke, shooting up from the bed and staring down at Gionna. “Just stop. I don’t wanna talk about it, Gi, I’ve had enough for tonight. I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m stressed.”

Gionna’s mouth fell open, eyes wide. “I-I’m sor–”

“No.” She didn’t want to wait for a response, she simply grabbed her keycard. “I’m going to Joe’s room. If you say anything about it to anyone, I will cut you out of my life.” And she left.

Y/N did feel bad for snapping at Gionna the way she did, but could anyone blame her?

She hovered outside of Joe’s hotel room for a moment, fingers hesitating as they curled into a fist to knock. What if he was just saying he wanted to see her out of the kindness of his heart? What if what they had really wasn’t that deep, it was just a pastime for him? What if—

This went on. Looping in her head. All the horrible what ifs that could be, instead of this is and we are.

Through the door, she could hear the faint sound of commentary. Of course, he was watching his match back. Joe always did this. Rewatching every single bout, scrutinising each moment with the kind of intensity he usually reserved for the ring. She knew it was part of who he was, that drive to be better, to be perfect—but sometimes it felt like he was too hard on himself.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked softly before letting herself in. The door creaked open, revealing Joe sitting on the bed, his laptop sitting in front of him as one of his legs bent under him, the other with a foot planted firmly off the side. His thick, muscular frame dominated the space, even as he hunched forward, his focus locked on the screen. The muted light from the laptop bore shadows on his face, highlighting the sharp, bearded line of his jaw, his dark hair still damp from his own shower, draped effortlessly in front of his shoulders.

He didn’t look up right away, too absorbed in the footage of his match against Baron Corbin from earlier in the night. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her quietly. For a second, she just stood there, watching him. Despite the rough night she’d had, the frustration from Gionna, there was something about seeing Joe like this—calm, focused—that made everything else seem distant, almost insignificant.

Finally, Joe’s gaze lifted, his dark eyes meeting hers, and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a subtle smile. “Hey,” he greeted her with a gentle gravel.

“Hi,” she replied, trying to smile back but failing to hide the pout that tugged at her lips. She made her way over to the bed, sitting down next to him with a soft sigh. Her cotton shorts rode up slightly as she tucked her legs beneath her, her t-shirt slipping a little off her shoulder. She was far from dressed up, but Joe didn’t mind. He rarely cared about stuff like that.

Joe glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noticing the way her shoulders slumped and how she seemed to curl into herself, clearly upset. Without a word, he shifted, wrapping one arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side. “What’s goin’ on?” His voice was warm, concerned, but still casual. He knew not to push too hard when she was in this kind of mood. He just had to coax it out of her gently.

Y/N sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Gi,” she muttered. “Still won’t stop talking about us. I know she’s just excited, but I’m over it.”

Joe’s brow furrowed slightly, his eyes softening as he peered down at her. “She’s got no filter, huh?” He said it with a small smile, but there was an underlying severity to his tone.

“She means well,” she admitted, sighing as she leaned further into him. “It’s just hard, y’know? Keeping this thing with us under wraps. It feels… like I’m hiding something important. Like I’m keeping a secret about the best part of my life.”

Joe’s brows lifted sympathetically, his permanent smile seemingly dropping into something more serious. He tilted his head to nudge her gently, encouraging her to look at him. “Hey. Don’t let her or anyone else get in your head, alright? What we’ve got—it’s ours. Ain’t nobody else’s business.”

The way he said it, so firm yet so gentle, tightened that part of her chest only unlocked by him. Dark eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her feel seen. Safe.

“You’re too good at this.”

“Good at what?” he chuckled.

“Reassuring me. Being… you.”

Joe smirked, tilting his head toward his laptop. “You sure you’re not just mesmerised by my match?” he jested. “C’mon, tell me I look good out there.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though her smile widened. “You always look good. You don’t need me to tell you that.”

“Mm-hmm,” he teased, adjusting the laptop so she could see the screen better. “Watch this part, though—when I start takin’ it to Corbin.”

She watched as the footage unfolded. Joe crouched in the corner of the ring, his body coiled like a spring, eyes locked on Corbin with a sharp intensity. The camera zoomed in on his face, catching every detail: the subtle twitch of his nose, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips before curling into a sneer. It was pure dominance, calculated and commanding, and yet entirely effortless.

“I like when you do that,” Y/N said, just above a whisper.

“Do what?”

“That… thing with your nose,” she nodded down at the screen. “It’s…” She paused, cheeks warming as she tried to find the right word. “It’s hot, y’know?”

Joe’s laugh was warm and rich. “Oh, yeah? Gonna start takin’ notes on what moves work best for you, huh?”

Y/N groaned, burying her face against his shoulder. “Don’t make it weird, Joe.”

“I’m not makin’ it weird!” he protested, though his grin betrayed him. “You’re the one gettin’ all flustered talkin’ ‘bout my nose.”

“I’m never saying anything nice to you again,” she grumbled against his shoulder.

“Lies,” he said easily, sliding the laptop further down the bed. His arm around her tightened, pulling her closer against him. “You like me too much for that.”

It was that casual confidence, that playful ease, that made her stomach flutter. She was happiest when she was with him, but right now, the stress of the night still lingered, heavy in her chest. Joe must have noticed, because his free hand suddenly darted to her side, fingers brushing lightly against her ribs.

“Whatcu doin’ lookin’ so serious?” he asked, his tone teasing.

“Joe, don’t—” she started, but it was too late. His fingers pressed into her side again, this time with more intent, and a surprised laugh burst from her lips. “Stop it!”

“Stop what?” he asked innocently, even as he tickled her again, a grin spreading across his lips. “I don’t even know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Joe!” she yelped, twisting in his grip, her laughter spilling out uncontrollably. “I’m serious! Stop!”

“Say you forgive me for bein’ so good-lookin’, and maybe I’ll think about it,” he said, his own laughter mixing with hers.

She tried to wriggle away, but he was far too strong, his hands relentless as they sought out every ticklish spot he could find. Finally, with a burst of determination, she pushed against his chest, sending him sprawling back onto the bed. She followed, straddling his waist to pin him down, her damp hair tumbling over her shoulders and curtaining their faces.

Both laughter faded as they settled into the mattress, freezing in position as the moment shifted. Coming down from their giggle fits, Joe held his hands lightly on her hips, staring up at her with those dark, smouldering eyes.

And for a moment, neither of them uttered a word; the warmth of his body beneath hers, and the steady rhythm of their breathing spoke more than words could say. Apart from—

“I love you,” she whispered, the words slipping out before she could second-guess herself.

Joe’s eyes softened, his expression melting into something tender, something unguarded. His hands strengthened on her hips a little, grounding her in place. “Say it again,” he murmured, almost reverently.

“I… love you,” she repeated, this time with an air of uncertainty.

His lips quirked up into the smallest, most genuine smile she’d ever seen. “Good,” he said softly, sliding his palms up to her waist. “‘Cause I was already there.” He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, thumb tenderly hovering over her cheek. “Now c’mere.”

Y/N didn’t move at first, her heart thundering in her chest as his words sank in. It was all suddenly so… intimate. Vulnerable. Slowly, she leaned down, her hands finding their place on his chest, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his shirt.

Their lips eventually met, tentative at first—a gentle brush, as though they’d never kissed before. Warm and soft, his lips moved against hers with an unhurried rhythm. Like he wanted to savour every second. She tilted her head, angling the kiss as she pressed closer, her body meshing with his.

A soft hum tickled his lips as she felt the rough sensation of his beard brushing against her skin. He caught the sound, pulling back just enough to smile against her mouth. “Feelin’ good, baby?” he murmured. A firmer kiss came as a response, hands sliding up his broad chest to cup around his jaw. Fingertips brushing along the edge of his beard as she marveled at the coarse contrast between it and the smooth surface of his skin.

His hands moved up her back, tracing over the curve of her spine as a groan rumbled against her lips. The steady rise and fall of his chest pushed and pulled against hers, the heat radiating from him like a furnace. One of his hands slipped into her hair, his fingers massaging over the roots as he tilted her head to deepen the kiss.

It wasn’t sweet anymore—not entirely. There was an edge of urgency now, a hunger that made her toes curl and her breath hitch. Joe’s lips parted against hers, his tongue brushing softly against her bottom lip in a silent question. Without hesitation, she answered, opening up to him and letting him in.

The kiss grew deeper, hotter, with less measured movements and more instinctive reactions.

Joe’s hand found her chin, thumb brushing lightly over her jaw as he tilted her head back. His tongue dipped teasingly into her mouth, the motion unhurried but precise, the gentle swirl making her head spin. Like he had something to prove, drawing soft sighs from her. When he pulled back just slightly, his lips barely a breath away from hers, his eyes were dark, his voice a husky whisper.

“You know,” he hummed, the pad of his thumb gently caressing her cheek now, “The way you moved your body in the ring tonight—damn, baby. It’s somethin’ else.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, the heat almost too much to bear, but before she could even think about responding, he kissed her again. The way he moved his tongue… fuck, it spoke in whispers of how he’d use it elsewhere. How it would ripple and flutter between her thighs.

And the smirk Joe stretched against her lips told her he knew exactly what he was doing. Cradling her jaw, he shifted under her, pulling her further down so she was almost completely laid out on top of him.

“I mean it,” he continued, kissing the corner of her mouth, trailing a path to her ear. “You’re somethin’ special in there. The way you had Trin locked up in that sequence? Beautiful. Smooth, confident… unstoppable.”

A combination of praise and delicate lips brushing over her skin, it had her heart pounding against her ribcage. “Joe,” she whispered, trembling ever so slightly as she gripped onto his shoulders.

“I watched every move you made,” he went on, grazing the sweet spot below her ear. His hand slipped to the back of her neck, holding her firmly in place. “That dropkick—clean as hell. And when you caught her with that suplex? Baby, you had me grinnin’ like an idiot. You’re so damn good, you don’t even see it.”

She couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, her nerves melting away under the warmth of his voice. “You’re just saying that beca–”

“No, I’m sayin’ it because it’s the truth,” he interrupted, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. “I see you, Y/N. Every little thing you do in there. The way you control the match, the way you keep the crowd on edge, the way you… command that respect. It’s sexy as hell, baby.” He punctuated his compliment with a small squeeze on her hip.

But this was the thing with Joe. He didn’t just compliment her; he broke her down piece by piece, making her feel seen in a way that no one else ever had.

“Sometimes,” he carried on, lips curving into a teasing smile, “I catch myself watchin’ you more than I’m watchin’ the actual match. You got that fire. Makes it fuckin’ impossible to look away.”

His lips were back on hers before she knew it, and she felt herself melting under his touch. She kissed him back with everything she had; he made her feel powerful and vulnerable, all at once, and she couldn’t get enough.

“I think about you sometimes,” he admitted clumsily as they continued to kiss, their noses bumping against each other. “What it would be like to face you myself…” He nipped at her bottom lip. “The way you’d push me, make me work for it. I’d let you get me in one of those holds, just to see what you’d do with it.”

She giggled airily, sighing contently as his perfectly bulky arms wrapped completely around her, almost as though demonstrating his own hold in his own fantasy.

“And then,” he brushed his lips against hers as he spoke. “I think about what happens after. How I’d bring you back here, just like this, and remind you…” He suddenly used his whole body strength to flip them over, almost like an impromptu, semi-scoop slam but onto a plush mattress rather than a rough canvas mat. “...Who’s really in charge.”

She steadied herself by holding onto his shoulders as he chuckled softly at the small yelp that sounded from her throat. His hips careened forward as if on instinct, causing her thighs to tighten around him to keep him there.

“You feel that?” he whispered, his hand sliding down to pull one of her legs up and over his waist just so she could feel the blatant bulge below. “It’s what your fine ass does to me,” he momentarily got up on his knees just to swiftly pull his tank up and over his body, throwing it behind him, “Every damn time.”

Y/N couldn’t find the words to respond, not when his lips were on hers again, kissing her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. Joe Anoa’i wasn’t just good with his words; he was good with everything, and he knew it.

Joe’s lips began their descent from her mouth, lingering at the corner of her lips before tracing the line of her jaw. His beard scratched against her skin, the sensation both grounding and electric. His hands framed her face for a moment, his thumbs brushing her cheeks as if to memorise her expression and keep it locked away for moments he couldn’t have her.

“Don’t even realise how perfect you are, mama,” he murmured against her skin, finding the spot beneath her ear. Pressing a kiss that had her body trembling in response. Teasing down the curve of her neck, the tip of his tongue tasted her cocoa butter-layered skin, slowly and deliberately, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. When his mouth reached the junction of her collarbone, he paused.

“We don’t need to worry ‘bout nobody else, baby girl,” he whispered, inhaling her fresh scent, “I got you, you got me, we’re set.” He lifted his head, blinking down at her. “You understand me?”

Nibbling at her lips, she nodded, no longer suppressing the grin on her face. He made her so happy. She was like a school girl finally getting a chance with her crush; the butterflies never faded. They just came with him.

Joe shifted, accepting her wordless response as he found the edge of her shirt, tugging it up carefully. He paused, catching her gaze as he pushed the fabric away, his expression shifting tenderly, yet reverent all the same.

“Never get tired of seein’ this,” he teased, roaming his chocolate eyes over her newly exposed skin. Hands followed, calloused fingers tracing over her ribs in a feather-light touch. “Every inch of you is just… damn.”

Cupping the swells of her breasts, his thumbs brushed lightly over her hardening peaks, the barely-there touch pulling her back into an arch like a magnet.

“These,” he murmured, his voice rougher now, edged with hunger. “Perfect. Soft as hell, but strong. Just like you.” His mouth replaced one hand, his thick lips wrapping around her nipple as his tongue swirled in lazy circles. She gasped at the heat radiating from his mouth, and the way he teased and sucked at her with such fervour. His free hand moved to her other breast, pawing needily as he rolled her neglected nipple between his fingers, pinching gently before soothing the area with his mouth as he switched between the perfect mounds. The dual sensations were long awaited and long overdue, and she clutched at his shoulders as if to anchor herself.

Joe pulled back, his lips glistening as he looked up at her, a smirk playing on his face. “Love the way you react to me, baby…”

He continued his journey south, his lips pressing heated kisses down her torso as she liberally ran her fingers over and through his hair, each kiss accompanied by a whispered compliment.

“Your skin,” kiss, “soft as silk.” Another kiss. “This waist,” his hands gripped her sides, “drives me insane.” He paused just above the waistband of her shorts, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

“Every part of you, baby. Perfect doesn’t even cover it.”

His hands travelled lazily over her bare thighs, his thumbs making slow circles; his eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, never left hers as he tugged at the waistband of her shorts, fingers hooked under the fabric.

“Been here before, huh?” he murmured with a small laugh. “But it never gets old, does it?”

She shook her head, tilting her head to the side as she watched him ease her shorts and panties down in one smooth motion, tossing them aside like they offended him. Even as he partook in something as simple, as trivial, as removing her clothes, she was sure she had never been so in love with anybody in her life.

“Damn, baby,” he almost groaned thickly, fingers ghosting back up her legs. “You already so wet for me.”

“Well, yeah, what did you expect?” she giggled softly, biting down on her lips as he spread her thighs wider, his thumb brushing lightly over her sensitive spot, eliciting a quiet gasp.

“That good, baby?” he coaxed lowly.

Her eyes were half-lidded as she nodded.

“I need words, sweetheart,” he drawled, leaning down to kiss the inside of her thigh. “Gotta tell me what you want.”

“You,” she sighed, reaching down to move some of his hair out of the way. “I want you, Joe.”

“Yeah?” He pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss just below her navel, his beard brushing against her skin. “You want my mouth, my fingers, my–”

“Yes,” she interrupted, fingers now threading through his hair, tugging lightly.

His chuckle was deep and rough. “That’s my girl.”

Without further teasing, he lowered his head and settled it directly between her legs; his tongue flicked out in a steady, purposeful stroke. Her back arched off the bed almost immediately as he worked her, his hands gripping her thighs firmly to keep her in place.

“God, you taste good,” he murmured, his lips gliding against her with expert ease. He flattened his tongue, dragging it up before swirling it around her clit, the way he knew would drive her wild.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, and a soft moan escaped her lips. “Joe… fuck, yes...”

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed against her, the vibration causing her thighs to tremble under his hold. “Does it feel good, baby?”

“Yeah,” she nodded quickly, her chest rising up and down as goosebumps glittered her exposed skin. He gave her clit a quick, firm suck before flitting his tongue in a figure-eight pattern. “Feels so good, baby.”

Pleased with her answer, he continued, taking a deep breath through his nose as his tongue alternated between quick flicks and slow, languid circles. He even took it upon himself to move his head along with his tongue, tilting and angling himself to make sure she felt every bit of his passion. Whatever he could do to make this woman shake and quiver, he’d do it. Every motion was calculated, designed to bring her closer and closer to the edge.

“So damn responsive,” he said as he moved his head away only for a second, so he could lasciviously spit onto her pussy, just to watch as the combination of both their fluids ran down her swollen heat. “I could stay down here all fuckin’ night.”

“Please,” she whispered desperately.

“Please what, baby?” He kissed her clit, one of his hands releasing her leg so he could run his long, tepid fingers along her folds. “You want more?”

“Yes, Joe, please,” she begged, her hips bucking against his hand.

He fucking laughed, licking his lips. “Hold your leg up so Daddy can get all in that pussy…”

Shit.

She obliged immediately, holding onto the thigh he’d let go of, as he slid two of his fingers inside her, right down to the final knuckle so he could curl them up just at the right angle. Prodding at that rough spot deep inside. His mouth returned, swirling in tandem with the stroking of his fingers. The synchronisation had her crying out, her body tensing as he started to gently grind her hips upward toward his face.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice barely audible. “Ride my fuckin’ face, mama…” He practically buried his face, feral flicks of his tongue and fast-paced pumps of his fingers hurling her toward a release.

“Oh shit,” she gasped, pulling at his hair and digging her nails into her own thigh. “Fuck, right there, right there… D-don’t stop,” she panted.

He didn’t answer, just maintained the earth-shattering pace in which he set, despite the muscles straining in his bicep, the unsteady breaths leaving his nose, and the stinging in the roots of his hair as she continued to pull at it.

“Fuck, I’m cumming…” she whined, as her body shuddered, wave after wave of pure ecstasy coursing through her. Still, Joe didn’t let up, and he intended to draw out every last tremor. “Joe… holy shit, yes… feels so fucking good,” she groaned, her back arching painfully and her eyes practically rolling to the back of her head.

When she finally collapsed back onto the bed, breathless and spent, he pulled back, his face glistening with her arousal. He grinned, looking like he’d just won the most priceless championship around.

“Damn,” he sighed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re a masterpiece.”

“And you’re… ridiculous,” she laughed softly, still catching her breath.

“Ridiculously good, you mean,” he teased, crawling back up to hover over her. His lips found hers in a heated, unhurried kiss, letting her taste herself on him. She traced the line of his jaw with her fingers, smiling subtly into the kiss as she took in the characteristic coarseness of his beard.

Their noses bumped together as their tongues met, and her free hand wandered over his tattooed shoulder, before making its way down his defined back. Muscles moved and tensed under her touch as she reached his lower back, tucking her fingers into the waistband of his own shorts. She tugged at them, letting them snap back against his skin and making him groan softly into her mouth.

“You tryna tell me somethin’?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes, his lips curving into that signature smirk. “Or you just can’t keep your hands off me?”

“Maybe both,” she rallied, pushing gently on his shoulder to usher him to roll off of her. Instead of laying on his back, he leaned back against the headboard, his legs spread wide to accommodate the fully grown tent in his shorts.

She propped herself up on her hand, looking up at him, her lips brushing up his jaw and toward his ear. “You had your turn,” she whispered against him, letting her hand wander down his chest, tracing the hard ridges of muscle. “And now it’s my turn.”

Joe chuckled deeply, wrapping an arm around her midsection as she kissed along his cheek and toward his lips. All the while, her fingers were slipping down and under the elastic in the fabric of his shorts. His head tilted back against the headboard, peering down at her hand as she watched his reactions. His plump lower lip was sucked between his teeth, and it bounced back out deliciously when she had her hand wrapped around him, already warm, hard, and heavy in her grasp.

“Don’t waste no time, huh?” he muttered, turning his head to press a small kiss to her lips.

“Not when you look this fucking good,” she shot back, giving him a slow squeeze that made his hips lift off the bed slightly.

Joe laughed softly, but it quickly turned into a light hiss as she lowered her head and sank her teeth into where his broad shoulder met his thick neck. His other hand, previously resting on the bed next to him, came up to hold onto her arm, trailing his fingers down to where her hand was buried under his shorts.

“Lemme take these off, baby girl,” he hummed, giving her ass a tap with his other hand. She let him go, resting her palm on his toned stomach, spreading kisses of worship over his tribal tattoos as he pushed down and kicked off the intruding item of clothing from his legs. “There we go,” he drawled, cupping the side of her face and urging her to look at him. “Now I’m all yours, mama.”

“You’re always all mine, baby,” she smirked, slowly pecking his lips. But he didn’t let her go, easing her back into a deep and heated kiss.

“Can’t help myself,” he mumbled against her lips, “You’re just so fuckin’ sexy.”

Giggling, she forced them apart, as much as she would have loved to keep kissing him. “I promise you can kiss me all you want after I suck that dick, Daddy…”

Groaning, he sat back, one hand propped behind his head as he got comfortable. “Goddamn tease,” he muttered endearingly. “You gonna do more than tease, or you just gonna sit there lookin’ pretty?” he asked, his voice low and rough, taunting her just enough to make her smirk.

She rolled her eyes, but proceeded to move onto her knees, bending over him so she could kiss her way along his body. “You’re so annoying,” she whispered, pausing to trace the tip of her tongue across the defined lines all over him, years of hard work paying off in his build.

“Fuck,” Joe breathed, his hips shifting. “You already got me hard as hell, baby. You keep playin’, and I might forget how to be nice.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to be nice,” she teased, moving her hair from her face as she came face to face with his free cock laying against his abdomen, thick, long, and already glistening at the tip. She licked her lips at the sight, the corner of her mouth curling up into a sly grin. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“And your ass loves it,” he shot back, his hand brushing over her hair as she opted to stay beside him rather than moving around to lay between his legs. “C’mon, baby. Show Daddy somethin’ special.”

“Am I not special enough, Daddy?” she feigned naivety, flipping her hair off of her shoulder so he had the perfect view of her delicately taking a hold of his rigid length. Looking him in the eye as her tongue slithered out for a quick taste. The muscles in his thigh tensed notably.

He reached out, smoothing the thin wisps of baby hairs on her forehead with his thumb. “So special, baby girl.”

Once again, those school-girl butterflies fluttered deep in her gut.

She started slowly, her tongue tracing the vein along the underside of his cock, her lips trailing gentle kisses down to the base. Her hand remained wrapped around him, following her mouth as she worked her way back up, flicking against the sensitive ridge just below the head.

Joe let out a low groan, his hand moving to rest on the back of her head. He didn’t push—he never pushed, unless she wanted that—but the weight of his large hand encouraged her, his fingers tangling in her hair as she began to take him deeper into her mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” he muttered thickly. “You know exactly what you’re doin’, huh?”

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her lips shiny. “I’ve had practice,” she said playfully, albeit sultrily.

“Yeah, with me,” he replied, his smirk returning. “Ain’t nobody else got you doin’ it like this.”

Instead of answering, she shifted her position, getting up on all fours beside him so she had more control over her movements. The new angle let her lean in closer, her chest pressing against his body as she wrapped her lips around him again.

Hissing through his teeth, his free hand snaked up her thigh, before grabbing a handful of her ass. “Shit, baby,” he grunted, his head falling back. “Makin’ me lose my damn mind.”

Her movements became more deliberate once she felt his hand wandering all over her, her hand twisting as her tongue swirled around him. She used the flat of her tongue to press against the underside, her lips sliding down until she felt him at the back of her throat. Ignoring the pulsing and contracting as she swallowed him up.

“Damn,” he chuckled airily, his hand tightening in her hair. “You’re so fuckin’ good at this. Always takin’ care of me, makin’ me feel like a king.”

His praise sent a rush of heat through her, and she doubled down, letting her saliva roll down her chin and drip all over him, working him and making every movement slick and lewd. She knew he liked it when he could hear what she was doing, just as much as see it.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he muttered hoarsely. “The way you’re usin’ that mouth… fuck.”

She glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief once she noticed him eyeing her ass. “Good,” she said breathlessly. “I like seeing you like this.”

She arched her back tantalisingly, smiling to herself when he couldn’t resist slipping his hand back between her legs, a new sheen of nectar coating her centre.

“Fuck…” he sighed. “Get over here, baby, Daddy needs his pussy again.”

Without missing a beat, and without giving her a chance to comply herself, he used all his strength to shimmy down the bed and drag her over so she had no choice but to straddle his face. She barely registered him shoving his face back into her pussy, slurping and lapping at her again until a specific twitch in her clit woke her up, and she resumed her own movements on his cock.

She steadied herself by holding onto one of his thighs, her head bobbing up and down on his length hungrily, little moans and whimpers vibrating from within her throat as he matched her ferocity and confidence.

Wrapping his arms around her legs, he pawed at her ass, shutting his eyes as he enjoyed every second, every drop. Landing a few slaps, even losing an iota of control when his hips rocked up toward her mouth.

He growled, the sound deep and primal. “Yeah, baby,” he encouraged, sucking at her folds and kissing her clit. “Just like that…”

She didn’t. She let herself get lost in it, in his taste, his warmth, the essence that dripped in pearls from his tip. But she had to stop when she felt him twitch against her tongue, lifting her head and giving him one last squeeze. “Not yet,” she said.

“Maybe not for me,” he dismissed, yanking her further up. “Turn around.”

Already dishevelled, she did as she was told, now straddling his face in a way that allowed them both to see each other.

“Wanna make me cum again, Daddy?”

“You know it, baby girl.”

She eagerly rode his face, thanks to the encouragement from his hands on her hips, rocking and writhing her way to another orgasm he so desperately wanted to give her. And he looked so beautiful doing it; alternating between intense glares up her body and delicately shutting his eyes as he feasted. Both ways, she saw his cheeks moving and the growing layer of her essence glittering his facial hair.

Grabbing onto the headboard, arching her back, panting and crying out. Something about a second time was just so intense, so invigorating. And when it did finally come, she swore she saw stars.

He’d literally flipped her onto her back, without parting from her pussy. As if he were countering a pin attempt in the ring. Him, sat up with his arms fully enclosed around her centre as the only thing keeping her propped up on the bed was her upper back and her head.

Her entire body went limp in his hold as the aftershocks of her second orgasm shuddered through her. She even had to tap his arm to let him know he could stop.

Their chests heaved as he gently let her go, giving her room to shimmy back, but not too far that he couldn’t grab at her again. He shifted his position, sliding his legs over the edge of the bed and pulling her up with him. He planted her on his lap, her knees on either side of his hips, the heat between their bodies nearly unbearable. Hands resting firmly on her thighs, his thumbs curling her plush flesh.

“You good, baby?” he murmured with a gravelly lilt, dripping with affection and lust all at once.

She nodded, her hands bracing on his shoulders. “More than good.”

He grinned, the slight crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening as he slid one hand around to cup the back of her neck. “That’s what I like to hear.”

He leaned in, grazing her lips in a gentle kiss before dropping to her throat, nipping at the sensitive skin there. Meanwhile, his other hand drifted down, his fingers finding her entrance, prodding softly and feeling the slick left behind.

“You’re so ready for me… fuckin’ drippin’ for me.”

Her whole body experienced a white-hot flush under his gaze, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away. He was so magnetic. Pulling her in. Making her feel like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

She wasn’t quite prepared for how intense the stretch of his dick would be when he finally guided her down slowly onto him. It was overwhelming, and she let out a soft gasp, digging her fingers into his shoulders.

“Atta girl,” Joe coaxed, soothing her with his rumble. “Take your time, mama, I gotchu…”

Inch by inch, she sank into him, adjusting by the second to the fullness. His hands stroked over her thighs, and up to her hips, brushing comforting circles into her muscles.

“I-I always end up forgetting,” she breathed out, resting her forehead against his, “Just how… b-big you are.”

He hummed, kissing her nose and then her cheek. More than patient as she eased herself into a completely seated position, his length fully encased in her heat. They both paused, the stillness amplifying the intensity of the moment.

“Look at you,” he smiled, “Takin’ me so good.”

Her breath hitched, and she leaned in, capturing his lips in a steady kiss. As their mouths moved together, she began to roll her hips, gauging which angle had him stroking her just the right way. When they both groaned into the kiss, they knew they’d found the right rhythm.

“Yeah, just like that,” he sighed huskily, squeezing her hips and guiding her movements.

“Joe…” she moaned as he dropped his head to her shoulder, tilting his head to bury it in her neck. Sinewy arms clasped around her body, holding her flush against him as hot, wet kisses were planted on her flushed skin. Fingernails dug into her, gently, as she rocked and grinded against him.

“Fuck, I love you,” he grunted against her neck, his hold on her getting progressively tighter and tighter. Sliding his hands back down and under her thighs, he stood up from the bed with her in his arms, turning and planting her on her back, sliding out of her in the process.

Like a lovesick puppy, she reached out for him and whimpered at the loss of contact, but he was quick to shush her and guide her further onto the bed, crawling over her in the process.

“Leati Joseph Anoa’i, if you don’t—”

“Shh, I know,” he interrupted with a grin, leaning down over her to nip at her jaw. “So needy.” He shook his head with an amused smirk. “Got the full name treatment too, damn,” he muttered, shifting back onto his knees and pulling her hips up with him. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, but he shook his head again, the smirk remaining.

“Nah,” he said, moving to hold onto the back of her knees. “I want these,” he started to guide her legs up, “Up here,” and he settled her calves on his shoulders.

Her breath stuttered as she complied, relaxing her legs over his broad frame. The position left her completely open to him, her body arched in a way that sent a deep, delicious ache through her core.

He leaned forward, folding her nearly in half, his body pressing hers into the mattress as his mouth found her neck. “You always look so perfect like this,” he murmured. “You just made for me, baby girl…”

Lowering his hand between them, he wrapped his hand around his girth, teasing the blunt head along her slick. She whimpered, careening her hips up the best she could in the position she was in, but to no avail.

“Joe,” she whispered desperately.

“What’s wrong, mama?” he cooed, tilting his head to the side. “You need somethin’?”

“You…” she whined, reaching up to grip his forearms. “I need you to fuck me… Please, baby, I need it so bad.”

“Yeah? That pussy need fillin’ up, huh?” he taunted, dragging the head of his cock downward towards her entrance, just barely pushing it in and feeling her tighten already. “Greedy ass pussy…”

With a low grunt, he finally pressed into her, filling her up inch by inch until he was settled deep inside with nowhere left to go.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, goddamn,” he sighed, bringing his hand up to rest it beside her head, propping himself up over her. His other hand stroked over her hair, cupping her face. “Feels like heaven every time.”

Lips parted, her nails lightly scratched up his arms as she took a deep breath, savouring the feeling of them intertwined. “S-So… full, Joe.”

“I know,” he mumbled, gyrating his hips to test the waters. Once he felt the familiar flutter and pulsing around his cock, he smiled crookedly, having to fight his eyes’ urge to fall shut.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, encouraging him to keep moving.

“Don’t worry, I ain’t goin’ anywhere, baby girl,” he promised, his voice rough with restraint. He pulled back almost completely before sliding back in, his pace slow but deep, each thrust hitting a spot deep inside that made her cry out.

Shifting his angle slightly, he adjusted his knees for leverage before leaning into her. “How’s that, huh?” he gruffly asked, rotating his hips. She inhaled sharply, his hot tip stroking her deepest spot and sending electric shockwaves of ecstasy from her core. “That where you want me?”

“Yes,” she moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair as she tugged him down for a kiss, despite the small stretch along the back of her legs as her knees got closer and closer to her shoulders.

Joe didn’t just kiss her—he devoured her, his tongue plunging into her mouth in time with his thrusts. Both hands now gripped her thighs, pulling her tighter against him, his movements growing more purposeful by the second. Skin on skin, lewd noises fuelling their desire.

“You take me so good,” he mumbled against her lips in admiration. “Every time, you take all of me.”

She could barely form a response, completely drunk on dick. The way her body responded to him felt almost primal. Hips rising as if he could get any deeper. Nails leaving red streaks across his shoulder.

“Look at you,” Joe moaned, his tone dripping with pride. He pulled back a bit, his hands trailing down her legs before he unhooked them from his shoulders. “Come here.”

Before she could process his words, he flipped them again, pulling her back on top of him. She straddled his lap, her thighs spread wider over his hips as he looked up at her, his hands guiding her to sink down onto him again.

He groaned, his head falling back against the pillows. “You look fuckin’ perfect up there…”

Bracing her hands on his chest, her fingers curled against the hard planes of muscle as she started to rock her hips. The new position let her control the rhythm, her hips rolling in a way that had him gripping her thighs, his fingers digging into the plush flesh.

“So beautiful…” His hands slid up her sides, pawing at her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her stiffened peaks. “Drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy.”

She leaned forward, her hair falling around them as she kissed him, their bodies grinding and rippling together in tandem.

His hands felt large and intimidating on her ass, pulling and pushing her, guiding her motions as he thrust up to meet her. But it seemed the more she rode him, the quicker her pace got, the more she whimpered and moaned into his mouth and against his lips, the control she had just moments ago slipped further and further away.

At this point, her movements were fruitless as he was set on throwing his hips into her from below. Each collision knocked the wind out of her, her moans strangled and reverberating in her chest.

“You like that, huh?” he growled. “Like when I fuck you like this?”

Her hands were still splayed over his chest for balance, even though she wasn’t sure how much longer that strength would last. “J-Joe—oh my god—”

“Nah, nah,” he interrupted, hands grabbing at her waist hard enough to make her gasp. “Don’t you lose it yet. Look at me.” His voice took on more of a commanding tone, with a rougher edge. A kind of energy that only came out during times like these… and in the ring.

She forced her head forward, meeting his smouldering gaze. His dark eyes locked on hers, and she saw the way his lips curved into a wicked grin, his ego swelling at the way she was falling apart above him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he praised, seductive and taunting. “Ride your Daddy… Show me what you got.”

Her hips stuttered at his words, nails raking down his chest in response. “J…” she tried to moan his name out of pure instinct, but a harsh slap to her ass shocked it out of her. Crazy of her to lose track of who he was when buried deep inside of her; how she must refer to him.

“Naw, baby, you been so good until now,” he mocked, raising an eyebrow. “You been talkin’ right, don’t stop that shit now.”

“I-I know,” she stuttered, nodding quickly as the sting from the slap melted into her skin, becoming a searing heat that encouraged her further. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“It’s okay, baby girl, just don’t upset Daddy like that again, ‘kay?” he smoothed a dangerous hand over the side of her head, fingers itching to grab at her harshly.

“Yes, Daddy…”

What followed was a jarring thrust upward, so jarring in fact that it had eyes rolling back and her nails digging completely into his chest.

“That’s the spot,” he groaned, “Take it baby, don’t you dare close them pretty eyes, look at me.” With his order, he grabbed her face, angling it down so she had no choice but to look him in the eye as he drove up into her, meeting her hips with an unmatched vigour. “All mine…” he grumbled under his breath with clenched teeth. Digging his heels into the bed for further leverage. “Fuckin’ made for this dick…”

She whimpered, her body quaking under his control. “I am,” she breathed, her words spilling out between gasps. “Made for you.”

“Damn right, you are.”

Suddenly, he shifted, rolling them over again in one fluid motion. Back hitting the mattress, her legs spread wide as Joe hovered above her, his large frame looming, completely dominating.

“You wanna get fucked like a good girl, huh?” he growled with unbridled lust. “I’m gon’ give you everythin’, baby, you just gotta take it.”

“Yes,” she cried, high-pitched, desperate.

Without warning, he grabbed the backs of her thighs, pulling her hips up to meet him as he bucked into her, harder, deeper, each movement rougher than the last. Her yelps, cries, and moans filled the space of the hotel room, the sound of their bodies colliding echoing in the air.

“Fuckin’ tight as fuck,” he groaned, his head dropping to her neck as he nipped and kissed. “Grippin’ me like you don’t wanna let go.”

“Don’t stop,” she begged, her hands clawing at his back. “Don’t stop, Daddy.”

“You think I’m stoppin’?” he shot back, lifting her legs higher and pressing them completely into her shoulders. “Nah, this shit too good.”

The angle was deeper now, hitting areas she didn’t even know existed, or that could be hit. Crescent moon shapes were left along his skin, peppering his shoulders, arms, and all the way down his back—complimenting the long red lines of untamed energy she unleashed on him throughout the night.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he rasped, his pace relentless now. “Wanna hear that scream… Let the whole damn world know who owns you.”

She panted erratically, letting out moans and whines, whimpers and cries, punctuated by screams only heard when this man had his way. “Only you, Daddy, fuck yesss… right fucking there, baby.”

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, a hand sliding down to grab her ass, pulling her against him with each powerful thrust. “So fuckin’ perfect. This pussy—” He punctuated the word with a deep stroke that made her yelp loudly. “Mine. Say it.”

“Yours,” she nodded, her voice breaking. “This pussy’s all yours, Daddy.”

Joe’s lips found hers, swallowing her cries as his hand slid between their bodies. His calloused thumb found her hot, swollen clit, circling it in tight motions that had her spasming around his rock hard cock.

“I can feel you, baby, that tight lil pussy tryin’ to squeeze me…” he mumbled against her lips. “You’re gonna cum, huh? Gon’ give Daddy that nut?”

“Shit, yes,” she sighed, her thighs trembling and tears forming in her eyes. “I’m gonna cum, baby, you’re gonna make me cum again,” she continued to ramble, her hand firmly on the back of his head to keep him there.

“Then let Daddy feel it, sweetheart, cum all over Daddy’s dick…”

She shuddered, every muscle in her body tensing as her ears started ringing. The knot in her abdomen was on the precipice of snapping.

“Oh God, it’s gonna be messy, Daddy,” she said through a deep, guttural groan, his forehead forcing her head down onto the pillow.

“Good… I want that nut all over me…”

That was it.

The floodgates, literally, were open. And she swore she’d never had such an intense, mind-numbing, out-of-body, orgasm in her entire life. Her pussy spasmed and clenched around him, her clit throbbed at an almost worrying rate, and it seemed the entire room spun. Every time he pulled out, she gushed all over him, the effects amplifying with every careen back inside.

“Damn,” he bit under his breath, trying to glance down at the mess she’d made as she cried and screamed. All because of him. He’d be a liar if he said it didn’t stroke his ego to an extreme degree.

Once he knew she was on the tail end of her release, his movements returned to their primal state, his focus entirely on chasing his own. Her body, pliant and spent beneath him, was his to take. Watching her back arch and her body write, he held her firmly in place. The slick, heated connection between them was everything, and he let out a roar of sorts as he slammed into her, driven by nothing but need.

“Goddamn,” he growled, rising to his knees. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her into him as he fucked her weightless body. “Look at the fuckin’ mess you made… such a good girl f’me.”

She could barely feel anything at this point, other than immense satisfaction at seeing her man get off using her.

“That’s it, Daddy,” she whispered softly, encouraging, despite her trembling form. “Take what you need… Use me. I love when you use me like this…”

Biting harshly onto his lips, he moaned deeply, the filthy edge in her voice sparking all the feral within his soul. “Yeah? Love bein’ Daddy’s good girl, huh?” he muttered roughly through exertion, loving the way she still jolted and twitched in her overstimulation. “Love being my little plaything?”

“Yes,” she moaned breathily. “I love it…”

Her eyes locked onto his, filled with exhaustion and yearning, and she reached for him, her hands skimming up his arms, his veins bulging and prominent under her touch as he grabbed her tightly. “Come on, Daddy,” she invited with a sultry lilt. “Wherever you want…”

The filthy promise in her voice made his stomach tighten, his body aching with the need to let go. Then, with a predatory gleam in his eye, he pulled out, crawling further up her body and planting one foot flat on the mattress, giving him some leverage. He wrapped a hand around his red hot cock, pumping himself as he hovered over her, eyeing every inch of her body.

“You want it, sweetheart?” he asked through a shaky huff. “You want this nut? Don’t worry, baby, imma give you it all…”

“Yes,” she moaned up at him, watching as his long fingers squeezed around the shiny tip, grunting as translucent pearls dripped down onto his hand. “Please, Joe… I need it, baby, I need you to cum for me.”

“Where, baby? You want it on these perfect fuckin’ tits, huh? Your pretty face? Tell me, Y/N, tell me where you need Daddy’s nut…”

“Wherever you want, Daddy, I just wanna feel it all over me.”

His jaw tightened as he pumped his hand faster, biceps straining, eyes locked on her breasts, her stomach, the curve of her thighs as she kept them apart, allowing him the gorgeous view of her swollen, used pussy. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he groaned unsteadily. “Never lettin’ your ass go, you hear me? You’re mine.”

“Uh-huh,” she agreed, nodding her head as she slid her hands up to his sweat-sheened chest. “Always yours. Show me… mark me. Ruin me for everyone else.”

With a sharp, loud moan, his body tensed. “Fuck, here it is, baby…” And with a shudder, he spilled over, cock pulsing as spurts of his release coated her breasts, some landing on her torso. He leaned over, one hand on the pillow beside her head, his breath ragged, watching as his load glistened on her skin.

“Hmm…” he grumbled, lips caught between his teeth as he breathed out his nose. He gave his cock a final squeeze before reaching out to brush his fingers through the mess he’d made, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she pulled his wrist up so she could clean off his fingers with her tongue. “So goddamn beautiful.”

Her lips curled into a soft smile as he gazed up at him in adoration, her hands caressing his arms, fingertips stopping to massage small circles into the muscles. “And all yours,” she said quietly and steadily, despite the intensity between them.

Mirroring her smile, he leaned down to kiss her deeply, his hand cupping her face. “Damn right,” he mumbled. “All mine.”

Joe lingered over her, his thumb brushing her heated cheek as her chest rose and fell, still catching her breath. For a moment, neither of them really moved, their foreheads lightly touching as the afterglow settled over them like a warm blanket. Her hands slid up his arms to rest on his shoulders, her grip soft but steady, as though letting him go too soon might break the spell.

He kissed her forehead first, then the tip of her nose, before finally pressing his lips to hers again—slowly this time, not the all-consuming kind of kiss they’d been sharing, but something sweet, gentler, filled with quiet adoration. She smiled against his mouth, reluctant to let him pull away.

“I’ll be right back,” Joe murmured, his voice low and gravelly as he pecked her nose. “Stay here, baby. Lemme grab somethin’ to clean you up.”

She pouted, her arms tightening around his neck. “Don’t go yet,” she whispered breathily.

Joe chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “You’re clingy now, huh? What happened to the girl who wanted me to use her?” he teased, arching a brow.

A playful glare crossed her face as she lightly smacked his shoulder. “I didn’t mean that literally,” she retorted, her lips twitching into a smile. “You’re the one who gets all… extra.”

“Extra?” Joe repeated, pretending to be offended as he leaned closer, their noses brushing again. “You love how extra I am.”

She giggled, her face warm as she tried to pull him back down. “Yeah, I do. So maybe stay here a little longer.”

Joe sighed dramatically, but the affection in his gaze betrayed him. “You lucky you cute,” he muttered, stealing another kiss before gently untangling himself from her. She made a sound of protest as he stood up, the bed dipping slightly as his weight shifted, but he gave her a quick wink. “Two seconds, gorgeous. Don’t go anywhere.”

She watched him walk toward the bathroom, her gaze lingering on the broad lines of his back and the way his shoulders flexed with every step.

As he disappeared into the bathroom, she sank back into the pillows, the cool sheets soothing her overheated skin. Her legs still felt like jelly, and a satisfied hum escaped her as she stretched out. The faint sound of water running reached her ears, and she smiled to herself, still basking in the sanctuary of the moment.

When he returned, towel in hand, the sight of him standing there—naked, hair tousled, a seemingly permanent little smile on his face—made her heart tumble in her chest. He was everything: a force of nature, her safe space, and somehow, her biggest weakness.

“Alright, spread ‘em,” he joked, holding up the towel like he was about to snap it like a gym coach. “Let’s get you sorted.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet, here you are,” he grinned, settling on the edge of the bed and gently wiping her down. His touch was grateful, almost reverent, as he cleaned her skin. Never rushing. Taking his time to make sure she was comfortable.

“You alright?” he asked softly, glancing up at her as he worked. “I didn’t go too hard, did I?”

“No,” she assured him. “You were perfect. As always.”

His lips twitched, and he leaned down to kiss her knee before tossing the towel aside. “Damn right,” he said. “But you’re not half bad yourself, baby.”

“Not half bad?” she repeated, rolling her eyes and shoving his shoulder. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

Grinning, he pulled her into him and wrapped his arms around her. “Fine. You’re amazing. Incredible. The best thing that’s ever happened to me. Happy now?”

Getting there,” she teased, resting her head against his chest. “But keep going. I like hearing it.”

Joe chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Greedy,” he hummed affectionately. “But yeah, I’ll keep tellin’ you. ‘Cause it’s true.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the quiet hum of their breathing and the AC filling the room. But then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something missing from the bed and stifled a chuckle.

“Joe,” she said, half amused, half exasperated. “Your laptop.”

He frowned, glancing over his shoulder to see his laptop lying on its side by the bed. “Aw, hell,” he muttered, carefully shifting her off of him before reaching down to pick it up. “If this thing’s broken, I’m blaming you.”

She laughed, watching as he flipped it open and checked the screen. “It’s not my fault your balance sucks,” she pointed out. “Maybe you shouldn’t be throwing me around so much.”

He shot her a look, raising an eyebrow. “Your ass wasn't complainin’ fifteen minutes ago,” he said, smirking as he tested the keys. “And it’s fine. Indestructible, just like me.”

“Modest, too,” she said dryly, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Obviously,” he replied, setting the laptop on the nightstand before climbing back into bed. “Now, where were we?”

She snuggled up to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “We were talking about how amazing I am.”

Joe cackled lightly, wrapping an arm around her. “Nah, we were about to talk about how much trouble you’re gonna be when we go public.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she lifted her head to look at him. “You… want to go public?” she asked, her nerves taking her voice.

Meeting her gaze, his eyelids dropped. Serious. But warm. “Baby, I don’t care who knows,” he sighed. “I meant it when I said it’s nobody else’s business, but if you’re ready to tell the world, then so am I. Let ‘em know you’re mine.”

Her heart swelled, and he leaned in to kiss him, her lips lingering against his. “I’m so fucking ready,” she murmured with intent. “I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore. I just… I want us to be real. Out in the open.”

He nodded, brushing hair from her forehead. “Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said simply.

She smiled, letting her weight go against him. “We’re gonna have to tell Vince, you know.”

Joe let out a quiet laugh. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll have a field day with that.”

“You think he’ll care?”

“Not as long as we’re professional,” he shrugged. “But if anyone’s got a problem with it, they’re gonna have to deal with me.”

“Big talk,” she teased, her lips curving into a playful grin.

“You know it,” he rallied. “Besides, who’s gonna mess with the Big Dog’s girl?”

“The Big Dog’s girl, huh?” She felt her body flushing all over again.

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, pulling her closer. “You’re mine, baby. And now, everyone’s gonna know it.”

She let out a content sigh against his chest, feeling a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the heat of his skin, and everything to do with how he made her feel—soul to soul.

As they settled under the sheets, he grabbed his laptop again, powering it on. “What do you wanna watch?”

Tilting her head to see his laptop screen, she nestled the side of her face into his pec. “Anything. As long as I don’t have to get up for the rest of the night.”

“Good answer.”

As he searched title after title on Netflix, she glanced up at him, her heart full. For the first time, Y/N felt completely at ease, knowing that they were going forward as one—no more hiding, no more pretending.

Nowhere else she’d rather be.

And just everything she’d ever wanted.

#wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe masterlist #roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x original character #roman reigns fic #roman reigns smut

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cozymochi · 2 days ago

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Hi!! I love your art and OC's!! I was wondering who does each person get along with/like the most from all the characters, and who do they like the least/get annoyed with?

Thank you🥺 I’m just gonna hone in on the boys. I like yapping about the web of characters they interact with (it extends beyond what’s labeled here, but. I’m kinda just shooting off.)

There’s pictures this time, be warned. And some descriptions are longer than others because I answered this on different nights with different headspaces 😭 …over a span of weeks, and even then? I don’t think I managed to cover everything I’d like to nor articulate it correctly. Just fill in the blanks.

Emilio Estrada-Alvarez 🦜

🦜 It’s not that he likes vice-housewarden Jamil exactly (Emilio doesn’t like a ton of people), but he does go out of his way to be appease to him since it’s in his better interest. He practically parrots what he says at times. Jamil exploits this insistence to please, but he can tell Emilio has ulterior motives. Albeit harmless, stupid ones, but motives nonetheless.

🦜 Ends up in a weird mutually beneficial situation where if Jamil is absent, and he can’t rely on the rest of the dorm to follow his backup plans/manuals for Kalim— Emilio is his go-to person to pick up duties. Things will run smoothly as a result.

🦜 All the while, Emilio gets to feel important and like he’s in charge and put those overly detail-oriented habits to use 👍

🦜 They get along… enough. Think Jafar and Iago. They do, but they also don’t. Emilio values praise from Jamil should he get it, and Jamil sometimes will listen to Emilio’s crapshoot ideas should they be useful.

🦜 Emilio actually gets along with Ortho the most. Detailed here.

🦜 Emilio had a bad encounter with Sebek on orientation day. That was enough to make Emilio detest him considerably. He was glad to know they’d be in separate dorms… only for the lug to wander into Scarabia.

🦜 So not only was this guy rude and dismissive— he’s an absentminded fool, too! And put Scarabia’s orientation to a halt just to take this guy back to where he should be. So he gets his hand held?

🦜 On top of that? One of his biggest peeves is loud noises. This is the loudest person in existence. AND THE TRUE ICING? This is his classmate.

🦜 All of the above is rather petty, but Emilio is a petty diva.

🦜 Sebek does not acknowledge Emilio’s existence, and that annoys Emilio even more. It’s not like Sebek forgot him, it’s just that he literally does not care about his immediately peers all that much to begin with, Emilio is not a special case at all.

Cecil Mugwort 🌿

🌿 It’s… again, it’s not like Cecil LIKES Rook, it’s more like Rook is fascinated by him. They’re both in the Science Club, so encounters are frequent. He asks Cecil a lot of questions but strangely never gets too personal. He finds him very uniquely beautiful :3 Especially when Cecil focuses hardcore on whatever he’s working on. He can relate.

🌿 Cecil does not believe any of that flowery stuff Rook says, it’s not like the guy doesn’t treat everyone with similar gravitas. He thinks he’s a weirdo. Cecil sometimes mocks his manner of speech and generally tries to ignore him, but they run into each other far too much for that to be effective.

🌿 It’s very possible that Rook knows from observation that Cecil’s self worth is kind of on the lower side, so he’s careful not to intrude too much- BUT knows that Cecil needs someone to be persistent in order for him to open up. Rook in general is just persistent so it works out.

🌿 Similar things can apply to his classmate Kalim and roommate/classmate Silver. Cecil gets invited to parties but never goes, and he more or less can be himself around Silver.

🌿 Cecil by all accounts “gets along” with nobody, he just tolerates others around him since he’s not going to DO anything except snark. …Well—

🌿 Cecil is terrified of Jade, but Jade wants to be his friend :) Cecil does not like Jade��s vibes, not that he’s a big fan of either Leech twin, but this guy is the one who pokes his buttons the most.

🌿 C’mon. They like the same things :) I mushroom, he mushroom? He’s seen Cecil dabble in terrarium making, they should exchange information and specimen sometime!

🌿 Jade likes to… observe Cecil. Usually, he doesn’t outwardly provoke him, but that’s kind of by design. Cecil is just such a disaster and brings so much chaos wherever he goes, and Jade can’t help but wanna witness all of it. If not witness, then maybe have a have in setting the pieces in motion ☺️ it’s such a joy to watch and really fascinating.

🌿 HE IS WHAT RIDDLE IS TO FLOYD.

🌿 Jade wants Cecil to join his club. You know. :) For fun. Cecil refuses to be alone with Jade in any capacity. Anytime he’s out and something stupid happens to him, how come that eel somehow always manages to show up!? AAAAAAAA—

Nyoka Wadjet 🫖

🫖 If asked by a staff member or his housewarden, Nyoka will engage in some light tutoring for younger students. Assuming they agree to it. Outside of his own dorm, most do not.

🫖 Every now and then, he ends up tutoring Deuce on a semi-recurring basis. Even though Deuce tends to hide that for pride reasons (he wants to be an honor student but still needing extra help kinda negs at him sometimes, especially if someone like Ace exists to be kind of a shit about it), Nyoka doesn’t really care. It’s not like he advertises this.

🫖 Deuce is kinda… he can be kind of oblivious to what’s around him, and for whatever reason , never really caught onto the fact that most people avoid Nyoka. (…he’s quite literally venomous so it’s not entirely without reason…) He kind of knows nothing about him at all, actually.

🫖 He just thinks Nyoka is super cool and the guy is actually an honor student— and not only that he explains the material in a way he can understand. (But he also thinks the whole cobra beastman thing is dope)

🫖 If Deuce gets a higher score after the fact he’s extremely willing to jump straight into the cobras den and show him. Which would baffle anyone else.

🫖 Ironically, despite being the most aloof person here, the way Nyoka regards Deuce is probably the most normal. He surprisingly does not mind him at all.

🫖 He might not show it, but… that freshmen is okay. The forward enthusiasm over test scores can be a tad off-putting but… it’s a strange feeling to be relied on without pretense. 🤔

🫖 Nyoka fucking hates Idia.

🫖 Idia doesn’t know why! HE DIDNT DO ANYTHINGGGGGG

🫖 I can’t say what the deep reason is. Too lore heavy. But, the most I’ll say is that it’s less about Idia himself and more about the Shroud family in general.

🫖 Other than that he does actually dislike him though. It’s the little habits… they build up, and it seems like no matter what Idia does or doesn’t do, it bothers him to no end.

🫖 “This isn’t as sexy as it’s supposed to be in those visual novels with the serious SSR glasses wearing character hating the plucky otaku 😭😭” -- Idia, probably.

#cozy ask #twstposting #twst oc #Tia excluded because MC. I probably shouldnt disclose favorites.#THIS ASK IS REALLY OLD AND FROM A MEME I DIDNT FINISH.#emilio estrada alvarez #cecil mugwort #nyoka wadjet #I dont even think I answered this right. but most guys there dont LIKE anyone #they just kinda. deal.

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inbloomwriting · 2 days ago

Text

Everything to me - Chapter 3

Chapter three - Raspberry

Chapter 1 II Chapter 2

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. Sorry it took so long to update this. I tagged everyone who showed interest in future parts and/or asked to be tagged. Please let me know if you want to be taken off or added to the taglist. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

Jamie sleeps like a rock. It’s a new discovery for (Y/N) as she tries to unravel herself from his tight grip. She doesn’t remember falling asleep cuddled up to each other, in fact, she doesn’t remember falling asleep at all. It’s like one moment they were talking about the baby and the next she wakes up to the sun pouring in through the window and Jamie’s quiet snores filling the room. And his arms wrapped around her like a vice.

God that man is clingy.

And, whereas with any other man, this would scare her off, there is something about Jamie that makes the whole thing endearing.

Maybe it’s the fact that they are not dating, not even trying to. It takes some of the pressure off. All she has to be is a good mum and a good friend and while those two things are hard enough as they are, at least there are no romantic feelings involved, no expectations to uphold when it comes to being a girlfriend, a partner.

Jamie sleeps like a rock, doesn’t even so much as twitch when she slips from his grip and rests his arm back on the side of the bed she used to occupy just moments earlier. Even the squeaky floorboard doesn’t wake him as she makes her way downstairs.

A sweet smell permeates the air and makes (Y/N)’s mouth water. This heightened sense of smell is both a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse. Most smells make her nauseous these days. Not today though, this one just makes her hungry. It smells of sugar and vanilla and all things sweet and warm.

Simon’s smiling face greets her as she rounds the corner into the kitchen. She wonders if this man ever stops smiling. He’s the personification of a ray of sunshine.

“Good morning, come have a seat. I’m making waffles.”

Waffles. (Y/N) can’t remember the last time someone made her waffles for breakfast. Dad did, sometimes when she was little, and stayed with him for the weekend. But then the waffle iron broke and he never got around to buying a new one. So pancakes and bacon it was. Beans sometimes. Sausages if he was feeling particularly fancy.

“I’d love some, thank you! It smells amazing.”

“Yeah? Oh, thank god. I was afraid the smell would be too much and make you feel sick. Only realized that after I poured in half the vial of vanilla essence though.”

The sheepish look on his face puts a smile on (Y/N)’s face. It’s nice someone cares about those little things.

“Never had to deal with anyone pregnant so I don’t know these things but I had a quick Google last night and it says 8 weeks means a heightened sense of smell. Also, the baby is the size of a Raspberry.”

If she didn’t know any better, (Y/N) would swear that Jamie and Simon must share some DNA. Both of them so clumsy in the way they care but infinitely endearing.

“Yeah, Raspberry or Blueberry or Kidney Bean. So tiny."

“Crazy isn’t it? To think it’s gonna be a proper human soon enough.”

She nods her head in agreement as Simon places a plate stacked with two thick fluffy waffles before her.

“You’re telling me. I know this is all happening inside my body and it’s still insane to think about. Doesn’t feel real.”

Simon regards her with soft eyes. There is warmth in there but something else. Something she can’t quite place. Georgie had the same look last night. Like they know more than she does. And fuck, maybe they do. They’ve done this before. Lived enough of life to know what the hell they are doing.

“Are you alright? “

(Y/N) was never big on sharing her feelings with anyone, let alone strangers. Life, and both her parents really, have taught her that talking about your feelings only makes you vulnerable. And being vulnerable usually ends in pain. So what you do is you take your insecurities, your fears, your sadness and you put it in a tiny little box and then you put on the lid. You tie a ribbon around it with a neat bow on top and then you take that box that holds your feelings and you bury it. And then you spend your whole life living like the protagonist in an Edgar Allan Poe story and that box becomes a beating heart under the floorboards of your life.

And the beating never ever stops.

“Sure. I’m good.”

She thinks he knows she’s bluffing but lets it go anyway. Opening up to Jamie is scary enough, takes up enough of her bravery. Simon is lovely and if she was another person altogether she’d love to share her worries with him, he seems like the best listener. She’s not someone else though, she is just herself and she can’t bring herself to talk.

“Okay. Just want you to know that if you need anything or — anyone. Georgie and I are always there to help. I know I’m not Jamie’s real dad but I do feel like that is my son. I don’t have children of my own and I only met Jamie when he was a pre-teen already so I don’t know much about babies but if you guys let me I am sure I can be a phenomenal grandad. My mum always used to say I was already born a little old man so this feels like I finally get a chance to be what I was always supposed to be. My time to shine has come.”

A harmony of their laughter fills the kitchen. God, is this whole family made up of the sweetest people on this entire planet? Do they make them in a damn factory or something?

“I will hold you to it. When the baby is screaming and I need some sleep I’ll come drop them off with you then.”

“Oh, I’ll be ready with some bedtime stories and lullabies.”

“You are sweet, Simon. And I really appreciate the offer. God knows Jamie and I don’t know the first thing about being parents so we can take all the help we can get.”

“Do you want to hear a secret?”

“Sure.”

“No one knows what they’re doing. As long as you try your best that’s all that matters. Kids are forgiving if they know you care.”

People always say that but there’s a little part of (Y/N) that believes those words to be untrue. Did her mum try her best and this was the outcome? Or did she just not care to do more, to be better? And which of those scenarios would be worse?

Jamie’s sleepy voice pulls her from her spiraling thoughts. “Morning, love.”

He places a soft kiss on the top of her head. So sure, so unbothered as if they do this all the time. Is this what it feels like? Being able to show your feelings and show affection without wondering what consequences it may bring? Without fearing that it makes you too vulnerable?

His hand finds her stomach and gives it a soft rub “And good morning to you, baby.”

It will never not be endearing to her to hear him talk to the baby. And neither will the way he pronounces the word ever lose its magic to her. That is his pride and joy there. His babeh.

“Aw Waffles, sweet!”

As Jamie plops down next to Simon and stuffs his face with vanilla waffles, leaving a slight dust of powdered sugar on his lips, (Y/N) is certain that all his worries are unjustified.

Jamie is all his dad and none of his father. Every inch and every fiber of him is a product of the love that Georgie and Simon have raised him with. He is them in the way he smiles and cares and the way he feels joy so freely and unabashedly.

And if only a smidge, only a sprinkle of that love is extended towards her child, that kid is gonna grow up so adored it won’t know where to put all of that love.

“Think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Like pregnancy barf or meeting mum nausea? “

Leave it to Jamie to put a smile on her face even when the world around her seems to crumble and fall.

“You gotta stop calling it that.”

“Alright, but you have to tell me which one it is so I know if I should hand you a barf bag or give you a pep talk. I’m getting awfully good at them if I dare say so myself. Learned a lot from Ted, yeah?”

If this was just the pregnancy making her nauseous everything would be so much easier. Ginger drops and rest would do the trick. But this is so much worse. This sharp feeling cursing through her veins, gnawing at her bones and devouring her like a hungry wolf. There truly is no one capable of breaking your heart like your own mother.

“Let me hear that pep talk then.”

As he navigates the car up the long driveway, flanked by big ornate mansions with brass iron fences and perfectly symmetrical hedges, Jamie regards (Y/N) from the corner of his eyes.

“Okay, well you don’t need to worry. Things are gonna be just fine. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Cause mums love me and middle-aged women love me. It’s cause they think I’m charming,” he says and glances at (Y/N) for a second. That radiant cheeky smile of his taking over his features. Oh, she hopes their kid gets his smile. “Which I am.”

“So charming, really.”

“You’d know,” Jamie replies and nods his head in the direction of her belly.

His laughter echoes through the car as she gives him a soft slap against the shoulder. There’s just something about Jamie that makes life feel a little lighter, a little more effortless. Even if it's just for a moment, just pretend. It does take the heavy weight off of (Y/N)’s heart for a second.

The car rolls to a stop in front of the gorgeous white house (Y/N) pointed out to him when they turned into the street. The lawn looks immaculate, the hedges are trimmed to perfection. This plastic palace all grand and gaudy. It never felt like home even though (Y/N) spent most of her life growing up in these very halls.

But really what is it that makes a house a home? Love and laughter and memories you want to return to. This is just four walls and a roof.

“Hey,” Jamie speaks up and places a hand gently on hers. “It’ll be alright but even if it won’t it will.”

“Huh?”

“I mean — look if she reacts badly, that sucks. But you have me, yeah? Always. Me and Rebecca and my Mum and Simon. Once we tell them I know the team will be obsessed with our baby, they’ll love her so much.”

“Or him.”

“Or him, yes. Ted is going to freak out, I know he’s going to want to hang out with our kid all the time. Roy? He’s already the best old geriatric uncle the world has ever seen. He won’t admit it but he’ll be really happy for us. Sam, Issac, Keeley, Higgins? All of them will be just a call away if we need help. I’m not sure about coach Beard though, he scares me not gonna lie.”

“I think he’s hilarious actually.”

“It’s because you’re smart and understand his jokes.”

“You’re smart too!”

“Nah, I just talk a lot and hope I end up saying the right thing. Anyway, what I mean is, this is your mum, yes, but in the big picture, she is just one person. And if she doesn’t love our baby there are so many other people who will. This baby will never, not for one second have to wonder if they are loved, because they are. So much.”

And as easy as it is for him to make (Y/N) laugh, as easy it seems to be to make her cry. Good tears though. Tears that say “I believe you that things are going to be alright”. Tears that say “thank you.”

“Jamie Tartt, of all the footballers that could’ve accidentally knocked me up, I am so glad it was you. You are going to be the best dad.”

“And you’re already the best mum. Well tied with my mum, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

(Y/N)’s childhood home feels cold, Jamie notices. There are hardly any pictures and those that are there are posed and awkward. He can tell it’s (Y/N) on those pictures but they don’t feel like her. There is no happiness in them, no joy. None of that sarcastic charm she exudes. He passes by a lifetime of being told how to sit and how to smile and what to do and probably what to say as well. It makes him feel miserable. And it puts things into perspective. It makes sense now, her worries and fears. If you grow up surrounded by nothing but the cold you eventually start wondering if you’ll ever be capable of creating warmth.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” (Y/N)'s Mum asks as she sits down at the head of the table. There’s something scary about this woman. She demands attention like a god-given right. She extends nothing in return. Her eyes are sharp and intense. It makes Jamie feel like she can see right through him down to all his insecurities and faults. She’s fucking terrifying.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

He hates the way (Y/N)’s voice has become so small and timid ever since they stepped foot into this mansion. Hates that there is nothing he can do to make it better and take this weight off of her. Nothing but be there. So he does that at least. Be there in all the ways he can be.

It’s so silly really, how his heart beats just a little faster when he touches her hand underneath the table. When she welcomes the soft gesture. When she returns his gentle squeeze. And when she links her fingers with his.

So silly. Stupid little treacherous heart.

“Well, I gathered that much. I just wish you would’ve called ahead of time so I could’ve made some food.”

“Made some food? Since when do you cook?”

The look her mother throws at (Y/N) could freeze a lake solid. It’s mean and chilling and Jamie wishes he never would’ve pushed (Y/N) to come here. Hates himself a little for putting her in this situation.

“I did attend several cooking classes last year. See, if you’d visit me a bit more often you’d know that.”

And if she wasn’t such a raging bitch, maybe (Y/N) would visit her more often, Jamie thinks. Fortunately, he’s gotten much better at impulse control lately, well ever since Ted arrived really. The old Jamie would’ve blurted out those thoughts with no care of any consequences.

The old Jamie probably wouldn’t have stepped up to be a dad though.

“Anyway, I would’ve liked a little warning. Especially if you’re bringing someone.”

Being at the receiving end of that icy glare feels awful, Jamie decides as (Y/N)’s mother regards him with a mix of disdain and humor. Her eyes sparkle with a sense of smug superiority. Jamie is used to people underestimating him. They think he’s stupid. Some dumb footballer with straw filling the places where a brain should be. Quite honestly it doesn’t bother him, never had. He’s the first to admit that he can be dumb when it comes to certain things. He’s no poet and he has never been particularly good at math. But this woman and the way she looks at him rubs him the wrong way. She knows nothing about him and yet she thinks she’s got him all figured out. Flesh and bones and all.

“Yeah uh, sorry about that. It was a spontaneous thing really. We would’ve called — “

“Sure, whatever you say. James was it?”

His name sounds like venom dripping from her lips. James. He hasn’t been James since the moment he was born and Georgie first kissed his tiny head and whispered “You’re my little Jamie.” Not that he remembers that but it’s a story his mom has recounted to him many times.

“Jamie, yes.”

“Right, Jamie.”

An uncomfortable silence settles upon the room. It crawls into the cracks and crevices of their conversation. It spreads and festers and discomfort grows around them like mold on damp walls.

“Mum, we’re here because I wanted to tell you I’m pregnant.”

The confession shoots through the silence like a bullet. Cuts through it like a knife through a flimsy ribbon. If this was a movie they’d put in a freeze frame or underlay the scene with some dramatic musical score. But this is real life and it comes with no editing and no soundtrack.

No, it just comes with a bellowing laugh from (Y/N)’s mother. It’s not the kind of laughter that makes you want to laugh along. The kind that makes you feel like sunshine has erupted inside your ribcage and wraps you in a warm blanket. It’s not like (Y/N)’s laugh. This one is mocking. It’s ridiculous. It’s meant to make you feel small and dumb. It breaks his heart to know this is the laughter (Y/N) grew up with.

“You can not be serious. Pregnant?”

A short, quiet “Yes.” leaves (Y/N)’s lips. Jamie gently squeezes her hand in return. I am here. He says. I will always be here. She squeezes back. He hopes it means “I know.”

“You stupid little girl.”

(Y/N)’s hand grabs his more tightly. A lifeline to hold on to. Crescent moon shapes stamped into his skin. But if this is the price he’ll have to pay in order to be a good partner in all of this then he’ll pay it 10 times over. Of all the things in this world, all the ways to describe her, stupid is not one Jamie would ever think of.

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that.”

Maybe a little bit of old Jamie is still there. The good parts. The protective, opinionated parts maybe. Not reckless but brave.

“She is my daughter and I will talk to her as I very well please. But you’re right. She is not a little girl, she’s a grown woman. Which makes this even worse. You should know better, (Y/N). Getting pregnant by some — some guy.”

“Some guy? Excuse me?”

“Well you’re not her boyfriend, are you? You are just some guy with no obligation to her. And if you wake up one day and realize what a massive mistake you made then you can just leave. She’ll be stuck being a mother forever.”

It boils his blood to hear those vicious words hurled at him and (Y/N). Mistake? Sure this baby wasn’t planned but they’re not a mistake. Not for one single second did Jamie think of his child as a mistake. A surprise. A shock even. But never a mistake.

“I know you don’t know me and quite honestly I don’t think I want to know you either but I can tell you one thing. That is my baby and I love it now and I will always love it. It is not a mistake. You can judge me, you can judge her and you can judge our decisions but stop talking about my child like that. That is just uncalled for. I know my word doesn’t mean anything to you but I was here from the moment (Y/N) told me she was pregnant and I will be here for the rest of my life. That is a promise.”

She has the audacity to scoff at him and completely ignore everything he just said. Instead, she moves her cold hard gaze towards (Y/N).

“What do you want me to say? Congratulations? Well, you’re not getting those here. Your father would be so — “

Before she can finish the sentence a shrill screeching sound cuts her off as (Y/N) pushes away from the dining table.

“I gotta get out of here.”

“Oh, what is this now? You’re just going to leave because you don’t get the reaction you hoped for? I can pretend if that’s what you want me to —”

“Mum, I am not running. I need to go! I am nauseous as fuck and if you don’t want me to empty my stomach onto your dining table just let me leave. I didn’t come here asking for your approval, I just thought you should know you’re going to be a grandmother. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go throw up in your bushes.”

Jamie is hot on her heels, grabbing both their jackets and (Y/N)’s bag in the process as he rushes after her. Though even in the chaos and hurry he doesn’t miss the look of absolute shock and bewilderment on the older woman’s face. It feels like a small victory but it does paint a little smile on his lips.

“Oh don’t do that. I’m disgusting.”

“I’ll be watching you push out a whole damn baby. This is nothing compared to that.”

If it weren’t such an absurd situation, that comment probably would’ve sent her spiraling but really it’s the least confusing part of today. Of course, Jamie wants to be around for the birth. Now that he mentioned it, (Y/N) thinks she shouldn’t be surprised. Of course, he’ll be there. He’s been there for it all so far of course he’ll be there when the baby enters this world.

It’s almost a little dreamy and magical to think about. Almost. Because life doesn’t let her think too much about it before it sends another wave of vomit up her esophagus.

“I don’t mind holding your hair while you puke, you're growing a whole human it’s the least I can do. But I gotta ask you something.”

“What’s that?” (Y/N) asks and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater. Desperate times, desperate measures. At least that’s how she tries to justify it to herself.

“Is that hedge purposely cut to look like a dick?”

He nods towards one of the boxwood trees at the edge of the property that (Y/N) has no doubt her mother hired a gardener to trim and shape and care for.

“Holy shit, it does.”

“And cut too. You think your mum knows?”

And suddenly the nausea is gone and forgotten about and in its place, a flurry of giggles takes over.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jamie asks once they both calm down a little.

Is she okay? Not really but this too will pass and it’s not like she expected anything else from her mother. Ever since (Y/N) was a little kid she remembers her mother dulling all her joy and whimsy. Why should things be different now?

“No. But I will be.” and when he takes her hand in his and places a soft kiss on her knuckles, for the first time since turning into this very street, she truly believes in those words.

“Good. Now do you wanna go home or do something else?”

“Home sounds good but uh — do you want to stay? Watch a movie or something? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Another kiss to her knuckles sends her heart into a little frenzy. Teeny tiny somersaults all around her ribcage.

“Yeah, can I pick? “

“Fuck no.”

“Alright, was worth a try.”

“It was a dream? That’s it?”

The ending credits to The Wizard of Oz play on her little TV screen as (Y/N) and Jamie sit on her couch, a bowl of microwave popcorn long devoured and now empty resting between them.

“I mean, you can interpret it however you want.”

“Meh, didn’t like that one very much. Next time we should watch the Muppets treasure island. That’s a good one.”

There truly is something so sweetly endearing about Jamie’s childlike qualities. His unintentional goofiness and his ability to make even the worst day turn into an okay one. An “all in all kinda good” one.

“Okay, fine. Next time we’ll watch the Muppets. It just — my dad had the Wizard of Oz on DVD. One of the few movies he had. So whenever I’d stay with him we’d watch it together. I think I just wanted to feel close to him today.”

“Hey,” Jamie chimes up and gently nudges her shoulder with his. “I didn’t know your dad but from what you said about him he seemed like a fun guy. A good guy. So I think your mum is wrong. He’d be proud of you. I know that.”

And for the second time that day (Y/N) thanks whatever cosmic power there is for putting Jamie in her life. For making him the person who goes through all of this alongside her. For making him her partner in this crazy adventure. For making him the father of her child.

“Thanks, Jamie. I really appreciate that you stood up for me and the baby. It’s not that I didn’t want to, I just froze. Every time I talk to her I want to say so many things but they get stuck somewhere on the way from my brain to my mouth.”

“It’s okay, I get it. It’s like that with my dad too. We’ll just have to be each other’s voices then I guess.”

“That sounds like a good plan to me.”

He does it again then, that tiny insignificant kiss on the top of her head. It means nothing.

But it means everything.

“Hey uh — I’m not really tired yet. Do you wanna start that Muppets movie now?”

“Uh yeah? Absolutely. I’ll never say no to Kermit. He is THE frog.”

Just a little while later, while Kermit and Miss Piggy sing a love song on screen while hanging off a cliff, (Y/N)’s eyes fall shut, her head resting gently against Jamie’s shoulder.

For the second time in less than 24 hours (Y/N) falls asleep in Jamie’s arms. And though she might not realize it right then, she has never felt more safe and secure ever before.

Maybe things really will be alright.

“Now I know that life can take you by surprise, And sweep you off your feet. Did this happen to us, Or are we just dreaming? Love led us here.”

@captainfrisbee - @scaramou - @mischiefmanaged71 - @rexorangecouny - @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog��- @tweasley20 - @dreamtrydoforkinggood - @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo - @heletsmelovehim - @snubug - @katdahlali - @oldglitterstory - @lalla-04p - @aiyaiy - @zbeez-outlet - @burnafter-reading - @britbratface - @labellapeaky - @mavisvermillion-first - @ladygrey03 - @charlesgirl16 - @cantbecreative - @nerdgirljen - @qardasngan - @confessionsofatotaldramaslut

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x fem!reader #reader with established backstory #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt imagines #ted lasso tv show fanfiction #everythingtomefic

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larryfanfiction · 10 hours ago

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Silver Fox Louis AU

🩶 Gray hair is our forever by beardyboyzx @beardyboyzx (1k, G)

Harry put his lips together and his smile became bashful, one hand coming back in Louis' hair to caress it lovingly. He had seen Louis' first gray hair. His boyfriend was growing older and Harry was there to see it happening. "You've got one gray hair," he said, voice wet but full of wonder, as if that hair was made out of pure silver. "Your first gray hair."

🩶 HOT TO GO! by allwaswell16 @allwaswell16 (2k, T)

When Harry does something weird at the barricade, he leaves Louis’ show devastated and hoping he can somehow make things right. Or the accidental pervert fic

🩶 I'll Still Feel the Same Around You by crinkle-eyed-boo @crinkle-eyed-boo (2k, E)

He finds himself wishing that the bedsheet would slip down a few more inches so he could get a good look at Harry’s perfectly pert– Louis’ breath hitches as his cock stirs, suddenly very interested in this train of thought. Oh. Oh. The answer to all of Louis’ troubles is so fucking obvious he can’t believe he didn’t think of it until now. Nothing puts him to sleep like a good orgasm. Louis finds the cure for his insomnia in the form of his husband.

🩶 Figure This Out by haztobegood @haztobegood (2k, E)

Louis is everything Harry could have imagined when he’d typed “silver fox enthusiast” into his Grindr profile. Too bad he's probably scared Louis off by giving him too many expensive gifts.

🩶 The Referral by disgruntledkittenface @disgruntledkittenface (5k, E)

Louis has noticed that since he turned fifty, his sex drive has started to slow down. Unfortunately, that’s not the case for his younger boyfriend Harry. A problem solver by nature, Louis wants to do something special for Harry, to show him how much he appreciates him even after ten years together. When he suggests getting a referral for a sex worker to give Harry what he hasn’t been lately, it doesn’t take long for Harry to agree. And then they meet Tom.

🩶 'Sup by MediaWhore @mediawhorefics (7k, G)

Gemma really wants her little brother to sign up for a dating app and get back in the game after a messy divorce. Harry thinks he’s way too old to swipe. They compromise to devastatingly embarrassing results. Meanwhile, all Louis wants is to finish the play he’s been commissioned to write, but one of the regulars at his local coffee shop keeps distracting him. ft. older larry, pushy gemma, harry being a disaster gay and silver fox louis.

🩶 Someone to Fly Home To by kingsofeverything @kingsofeverything (35k, E)

Louis. 55 year old pilot who wants someone to fly home to. Harry swipes right. Or Louis and Harry’s marriage ended more than a decade ago, but fate keeps bringing them back together.

🩶 That's What I'm Here For by taggiecb @taggiecb (46k, E)

Louis Tomlinson is a dairy farmer on a tiny farm in eastern Canada. His wife of nearly thirty years has left him and his children are all grown up and out of the house. Louis needs help running his business but has no idea where to even start looking. Luckily for him his children know just the man for the job.

🩶 The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by kingsofeverything @kingsofeverything (109k, E)

Louis’ life is steady and calm, moored by his marriage, and tied to his hometown, but after a chance encounter with another man, it’ll never be the same.

🩶 You Make Lovin' Fun by homosociallyyours @homosociallyyours (110k, E)

Harry is a 28 year old travel writer at a gay magazine who gets the assignment to go a lesbian cruise. She figures it's a nice chance to have some fun in the sun, but she's not expecting much else-- even if her partner and best friend are both encouraging her to hook up with someone while she's there. When she locks eyes with a gorgeous silver fox from across the room, she starts to think she could've been wrong. There are lots of things standing in the way of anything real happening with her and Louis, but that doesn't stop them from falling for one another. True love isn't always easy, but they do make lovin' fun.

#larryfanfiction #silverfoxlouis #older larry #masterpost #ma

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moanz111 · 2 days ago

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✩°⋆｡ system error ⋆｡°✩ - 34

chapter 34 ✧ - i'm sorry - written +texts

< previous ✧ m.list ✧ next >

synopsis ✧ you've always dreamt of having your fantasy-like love story. naturally, hearing the sweet melodic ring of your love alarm was what you wanted the most, right? until it actually happened. four times.

wc ✧ 1.4 k

pairing ✧ uni student! choi san x fem! uni student! reader

warnings/tags ✧ instant attraction (just soulmates stuff), party mentioned, getting drunk (but not to the point of not being able to make decisions), angst, miscommunication (more like not enough communication)(sorry), san's kind of insecure, heartbreak, unhealthy coping mechanism (self-distancing), this is very long so get ready, everyone's confused, use of a pet name (yunjin calls reader baby but she always does so...)(i always forget to tag it sawryy), lmk if i've missed something

Being a senior in university wasn’t as fun as many would think. Too many classes, too many assignments, too many dance routines to memorise and quite literally nothing of much interest happening around you.

At least, that was San’s reality. Wake up, work out, go to classes, practice with Yeonjun and Wooyoung, go home, sleep, repeat. It wasn’t like it was that bad, but a little fun wouldn’t kill anyone, right?

San kept wondering what was missing, what was that thing that his soul kept yearning for? He had considered taking a gap year or even completely changing his major, but nothing seemed to really hit home the more he thought about it. Start a job? With that schedule it was out of the question. Dating? Well, there were potential prospects around him, but it was too much work and emotional investment.

That was until the day he met you.

At first, it wasn’t anything evoking excitement in him. As usual, his friends were going to drag him to the freshman welcoming party to “scare” the newcomers, but San didn’t really want to do that or talk to any people or get drunk or dance, but duty called, as Wooyoung had said back then, and had dragged him to Changbin’s front door mercilessly along with their roommates. All San had to do was put on his most charming smile, hang around for an hour or two and then he would make his escape with Yunho so they could play video games in peace.

Plans change, though, and very drastically even.

San knew your friends very well - Yunjin and Jongho had the same majors so he saw her often at their plays (whenever Jongho let him come, of course), Beomgyu and Jeongin were his gaming buddies and Kai was their friend so of course, he had hung out with him too, but the only mysterious person in there was you. He thought you looked beautiful with your messy hair and your casual clothes on, with your shy smile and blushing cheeks as you shook his hand while saying your name quietly.

He couldn’t say he had fallen in love before and he didn’t really believe in love at first sight, but that weird feeling growing inside his heart was definitely something he had to keep an eye on. He had liked people and had dated a few times which all ended in disappointment, but secretly all he wished for was for his love alarm to ring. All these romance movies that kept him up at night, the fated meetings they portrayed - he kept wondering if that was something you could actually experience or was it just a play, orchestrated for poor hopeless romantics like him? Not that he had ever found someone he could share his thoughts with.

The night he met you he was no different - it wasn’t as if he suddenly gained the courage to strike a conversation or even flirt like Wooyoung liked saying he was supposed to when he saw someone he was interested in. So he did what he did best - he admired you from a distance. Occasionally, you would sit together or would exchange a word or two in the middle of all the chaos that was happening around you, with hundreds of students surrounding you, but nothing more until Mingi gathered all of your friends together to play truth or dare in Changbin’s bedroom while the party downstairs was at its peak.

San thought it was the most childish thing in the world but he still sat down opposite of you and joined the game reluctantly. Only because you were there.

He didn’t know why he took so much interest in you or why his heart fluttered when your laugh echoed in the room or when you smiled sweetly at him. There was some sort of a pull as if you two were two opposites of a magnet about to collide and he couldn’t wrap his mind around what all of that meant, especially not after he had taken 5 shots as a penalty for refusing to answer Wooyoung’s invasive questions.

After a while, all of you had got bored and had just splattered around the room, engaging in quiet conversations with each other, enjoying the peacefulness of the night. Gathering his courage, San had approached you after your friends had left your side and he, once again, was surprised with himself. He truly thought you wouldn’t want to stay next to him on the floor in front of Changbin’s bed, but you did. You talked and talked and talked about anything and everything, you joked, you laughed and when you leaned on his shoulder, San thought his heart was going to explode.

It must be the alcohol. But it wasn't. San felt more sober than ever. He felt alive and the night was still young so after taking one more shot each, both of you went downstairs to join the party.

And just like that, you were standing in front of him, the purple and blue neon lights illuminating your features and all San could do was try not to stare too much. The loud music, engulfing any other sound in the room, was drumming loudly and you swayed your body to the rhythm, laughing and holding San’s hands in an effort to make him let loose and have fun. It was working because he didn’t remember when he had had fun like that with anyone else. At a party. In Changbin’s house.

The more you danced, the more San was letting the butterflies in his stomach erupt. He believed dancing could reveal a lot about the person and he thought you were stunning. But he had already thought that at least a million times before. His drunken brain, however, couldn’t come up with many creative and showstopping compliments at that moment but mentally he made a note to tell you much more the next time he saw you which he hoped was going to be very soon.

Suddenly, a slower song started playing. San couldn’t really remember its name but the next thing he knew was that your hands were around his neck, his on your hips and you were both mere centimeters away from each other. Your soft shining eyes were looking at him with such intensity that he thought he was going to melt there and then. Slowly moving together, San felt as if you two were the only people in the room.

The world had stopped spinning for a few moments, he could’ve sworn. Only you, your warmth and your shimmering eyes were all that mattered. His grip on you tightened and now you were closer than ever. San could feel your breath on his neck as you buried your head in its crook and your heartbeat (or was it his?) was pulsating between you two, making his cheeks burn.

As the song came to an end and a new one started, you pulled away from him slightly, making him pout at the loss of contact. “San, I…”

San could swear he was going to pass out right there, in your arms, as your fingers dug into the back of his neck, brushing against his hair. His eyes were on your lips, still shining from the lipgloss you were wearing, and then he moved his gaze to your pleading eyes. You were so close, yet so far as San started leaning down slowly and then

Ding.

San hadn’t heard a sound like that before. It seemed like a normal notification but it also sounded different. Maybe a bit higher? A bit more melodic?

And then you pulled away, leaving him breathing in and out slowly. What if that was the love alarm? Was it yours? Or his? Was he just hearing things?

“I’m sorry, I think Yunjin is calling me. I’ll go over to the kitchen to call her,” you said, raising your voice in an attempt to fight the noise and San nodded. It wasn’t as if he was going to just leave you. Especially not after what was about to happen before your phone had rung.

He watched you make your way through the crowd and just now San noticed how many people were around you two. Maybe even your friends were somewhere here but he couldn’t recognise anyone, not while his brain was in this dazed state.

Taking out his phone with trembling hands to check for any texts, San furrowed his brows as he saw the top notification.

from 1111

Congratulations! You have found your match!

note ✧ here it is finally - san's pov! i wasn't really sure how to handle this situation and if i did it well; this was probably the hardest chapter to ever write just because i wanted to convey san's feelings and pov the best way possible and actually make it make sense and be valid 😭 he just needs a hug and so does reader :( dealing with feelings of any kind is never easy.

i really hope you liked this chapter (i rewrote it around 5-6 times) and feedback will be greatly appreciated because it's my first time writing something angsty like this 😭 i promise not to make it too painful from now on but a growth in both of them is needed so bear with me :<

taglist ✧ @flamingi @huachengsbestie01 @minihong99 @staytinyluv @luvpeachkes @gh9sty @dawn-iscozy @zaraxnid @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone

taglist is open! <3

#✩°⋆｡ system error smau #ateez fake texts #ateez social media au #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez fic #san x reader #choi san smau

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schrijverr · 1 day ago

Text

Hi, Eddie. Hope I’m Not Bothering You?

Divergence from chapter 9, where Buck decides to go through with calling Eddie after making it out of the plane crash. His side of the conversation is overheard by Hen, who has some questions for him when they make it back to the station.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie, Henren

Warnings: referenced minor character death, referenced near death experience, insecurity

~~~

Hen is still shaken herself. Mass casualty events always make her anxious and slightly despairing, always make her want to hear her wife’s voice. Hear her son.

It’s already late, so the latter doesn’t happen, but Karen picks up the phone and talks with her for a bit as they drive back to the station. Hen leans against the window, letting the words wash over her. She’ll listen better some other time, Karen knows this is more about the comfort of hearing her be okay.

When she finally feels human again, she thanks Karen in a soft murmur, promising to drive home safely, before she hangs up.

After that, she finally tears her eyes away from the streets zooming by outside. Most in the rig are sleeping, having called spouses or partners. The only outlier is Buck, who is staring at the lit up contact screen of someone. Hen can’t make it out.

On his forehead is a little crease and he keeps biting his lip. She is about to ask if he’s okay, when he suddenly takes a deep breath, before he clicks the screen, bringing the device up to his ear. Curiously, Hen keeps quiet, listening.

It barely takes a second, before whoever Buck just called to pick up. From where she is, she can’t hear what is being said, but she can hear Buck shyly say: “Hi, Eddie. Hope I’m not bothering you?”

Hen watches as Buck’s eyes turn surprised, then bashful. Whoever this Eddie is, it’s clear Buck is fond of him. Very fond. And Eddie is probably also fond of him, because he must have expressed concern for Buck to reply with: “I’m okay, just took a small dip in the ocean, but it’s alright. Ice baths are good for you, right?”

That last part makes him want to strangle him, because ice baths are not a proven thing and what he just did very much wasn’t an ice bath. It was a near death that almost gave her a heart attack.

Fortunately, Eddie must agree, because Buck goes: “I am, I am. No hypothermia, I promise. Hen gave me a blanket and I’m going to make sure I’ve stopped shivering before driving home.”

It’s a little strange to hear her name said to someone she doesn’t know. It becomes obvious that Eddie is someone close to Buck, maybe even a boyfriend. He did stop sleeping around after all. However, she half expected that they all would have known if Buck started dating. He’s not one to keep that sort of thing to himself. So, this puts her off slightly.

She doesn’t know what Eddie replied to that, but Buck sounds a little confused as he says: “Uh, yeah, that was the plan, yeah.”

Eddie must disagree, because Buck frowns: “What? No.”

“Come on, Eddie, you don’t have to do that. I can drive just fine,” Buck tries to convince Eddie, but Hen mentally hopes Eddie wins this. Buck is still pale and shivering. He shouldn’t be driving. She is half starting to feel bad about listening in on a private conversation when Buck hits her with something that piques her interest: “What about Chris?”

Eddie was already a new name and a surprise, but adding Chris is suspicious. She doesn’t want to assume or judge when she doesn’t know, but that sounds questionable. Why would he need to check if a random other guy is okay with Eddie supposedly picking him up?

She already thought that Eddie might be a boyfriend. She can understand him not sharing, since he never mentioned anything about his sexuality. He might just not be comfortable being out. But now, she has to wonder if there is another reason he didn’t mention it. If it’s an affair instead.

This is almost immediately tossed out as possibility by Buck saying: “He needs sleep, you could accidentally wake him. I’m good to drive, I swear.”

Hen knows that concern. That is parental concern. Did Buck start dating a parent? Is that why he didn’t tell them, because he didn’t want to get the flack and jokes?

Now, she feels bad for him, because she knows that they would have made jokes about it. Buck isn’t an immature kid or anything, but he has a frat boy vibe. She thinks it’s sweet of him to want to help and with the way he is with kids, he’d probably be alright, but they would’ve teased him regardless. It makes her guilty that that prevented him from asking for support.

“You don’t know that,” Buck sulks indignantly.

Hen blinks back into the conversation, putting her musings aside to focus. It takes her a second to connect that response to Buck’s assurance that he’s okay to drive. Seems that Eddie agrees with her assessment of him, despite not being able to see him. That’s kind of romantic.

And it seems that Buck is also won over by it, fondly rolling his eyes as he goes: “Alright. Fine. You win. Come pick me up.”

Almost immediately after, Buck pouts: “No need to be smug about it.” Eddie says something, then Buck’s pout deepens as he quietly exclaims: “I’m not pouting!” There is a beat, then Buck rolls his eyes: “Ugh, you’re such a dick sometimes.” Hen can’t stop the small grin on her face at that.

Then he suddenly falls silent. Hen’s smile drops. It doesn’t seem like the listening silence, Buck’s eyes get a little watery and he chews his lip, as if he’s considering if he should say something at all. Despite herself, Hen holds her breath as she waits for Buck’s decision.

When he finally speaks, there is a vulnerable note in his voice that she has never heard there before, but instantly recognizes when she hears what he is saying. “But Chris- He’s okay right? I know that’s stupid, I just… There were kids on that plane, you know?”

Her heart does a familiar constriction. She still feels exactly like that every single time with Denny, but it was so much worse at the start. This is Buck’s first mass casualty event. Maybe even his first big accident since he starting dating this dad. Of course he must be terrified and unsure if it’s okay to ask if the little guy is okay.

It’s very sweet and she can’t help but watch how Buck’s eyes get wide and his face flushes, a pleased little smile tugging on his face, before he shyly asks: “You will? I mean, you don’t have to, but, uh, thank you.”

The smile grows a little and he looks practically giddy as he says: “Yeah, I’ll meet you two outside.” Then after a beat: “Bye, Eddie. See you soon.”

He hangs up and looks at his phone a bit, smiling, but unsure what to do with himself. In the end, he nods a few times, then clicks the screen off, before stuffing it back into his pocket. With a little grin on his face, he watches them pull into the firehouse.

Everyone starts to wake up, the familiar sounds and corner of pulling in rising them. Bobby has been sitting in the front seat, but Hen doesn’t think he’s been listening. He seems kind of zoned out, which is unusual for him, but then again, he’s only been here 18 months. This is the first time she’s seen him this close to losing his life. Maybe that’s normal for him.

They all climb out of the rig and trudge towards the showers. Hen would pull Buck aside to ask her questions and give the encouragement he might need, as well as help or advice. However, he is still soaked, so instead she says: “Make sure it’s lukewarm when you start. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Thank you, Hen,” Buck smiles and Hen is glad to see he’s dealing better with the losses they’ve suffered today than when he started. This Eddie is good for him.

Everyone washes the gross ocean smell and salt of themselves, with most of them leaving in their own cars or getting picked up. It’s been a long shift and Hen is glad they can hand it over.

She herself would usually already be on her way to drive home and collapse on top of her wife. But she wants to check on Buck before she leaves and satisfy some of her nosiness. Both to support a potential fellow queer parent and to have gossip to bring to Chimney in the hospital, since he can’t be here to collect it himself.

So, she doesn’t instantly crawl behind the wheel when she comes out of the shower. Instead going to sit down next to Buck and nudging him with her shoulder as she asks: “Are you okay, Buck?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he smiles tiredly at her, damp hair curling at his temples. “Just called for a ride, my arms feel like they’re going to fall off.”

“I hear you, I’m gonna sleep so hard when I get home,” Hen smiles back. Then she makes her move, curiously asking: “Eddie coming to get you?”

Buck stiffens in surprise, giving her a confused look.

Apologetically, Hen says: “I couldn’t help but overhear your call on the way here, sorry. I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

At that Buck flushes a bright red, seeming mortified as flails his hands and goes: “Oh, uh- No, no, it’s- it’s not like that.”

Now Hen feels uncomfortable and wrong footed. It’s not like she’s never been wrong before, but it doesn’t happen often and she was so sure. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just- I guess, I assumed. My bad.” A beat, then curiously she can’t help but ask: “Then who is Eddie? And who’s Chris? He sounded like a kid.”

Buck’s face does something complex, before settling on a grimace. “It’s complicated.”

Hen nods quietly to herself a few times, trying to figure out what to say. She started the conversation, it feels weird to just end it now. However, she knows how annoying it can be for people to poke. But she’s also nosy. In the end, she asks: “Complicated as in you’re not willing to tell me or…?”

“Complicated as in it’s a long story,” Buck finally sighs, rubbing his face. “I’m married to Eddie, adopted Chris.”

Now her eyes nearly fall out of her sockets. Maybe that assessment of it being an affair wasn’t that far off, but Buck wasn’t having an affair with Eddie, but cheating on Eddie.

Oblivious, Buck continues, only making it worse: “Eddie was in the military. He got injured, so I’ve been kind of providing for now. Chris is a great kid, I’m going to miss him.”

“Uhm, Buck…” Hen says, as in ‘what are you on about?’

“Yeah?” he asks, looking to be completely genuine.

“I- I don’t mean to assume – again – or judge,” she lies, “but leading an injured person on and fucking over a kid, is a horrible thing to do.”

“What do you mean?” he frowns, looking confused. Hen’s heart stops. She honestly thought Buck was a good kid, someone who’s heart was in the right place. She warmed up to him. God, she really should have known better than to trust a frat boy vibe. Of course he doesn’t even realize that what he’s doing is wrong.

“You’ve been sleeping around left and right,” Hen exclaims. “And clearly he doesn’t know that by how he’s acting. And clearly you’re aware it’s going to blow up in your face and tear your family apart and all you can manage is that you’ll miss him?”

Blink. Blink.

“Huh? Oh… No! No, no, that is- that’s not what is happening.” With wide eyes and grand movements, Buck desperately tries to convey that this is not the situation.

“Then what else is happening?” She honestly can’t come up with an explanation that will make all this better.

“It’s a marriage of convenience. Eddie’s straight. He only married me so I could adopt Chris and take care of him while Eddie was in the army. The plan was to divorce when he came back from tour, but then he got hurt, so we didn’t so he can recover. But he never wanted me in his life. It was just easy, you know. Once he can work, he’ll divorce me and- and I’ll lose it all…”

Tears come to his eyes and his voice wobbles when he forces out that last bit of explanation. He seems devastated, but trying to hide it and kind of failing at it.

Again, Hen finds herself wrong footed. That sure is an explanation that will make all she thought better, but that is also so much worse. She can’t imagine knowing there is a deadline to having Denny. To be married to someone who doesn’t love you, but just uses you.

She gets dealing with that has been so hard. It explains why he was practically spiraling when he got there. The sleeping around, the exploding at a patient, the way he never fully commits to team drinks after work.

It’s clear Buck is all in. That he loves Chris and Eddie. His family. That he doesn’t want to lose it and isn’t ready for it to end. And she can’t imagine how anyone could do that.

But it still doesn’t sit right in her stomach. Sure, she didn’t hear what Eddie said, but she’s pretty sure he’d been worried about Buck catching hypothermia, as well as strong armed Buck into getting picked up when he wanted to drive home, and at least comforted him about Chris. None of that sounds like a person that would just kick Buck to the curb.

However, she doesn’t know Eddie and she does know Buck, who is sitting right next to her looking like he’s about cry. So she definitively says: “Well, then Eddie is a dick.”

“Hen!”

“What? He is!” Hen exclaims. “If he is only using you for money and child care and is then kicking you to the curb, then he is a dick and you deserve better. You’re married and adopted Chris? You can take that man to court when it comes to it. Cause he’s an asshole.”

“No, no, he’s not,” Buck immediately goes to assure her. “He’s the best person I know. I just-”

“Buck? That’s- I-”

Both their heads snap up at the stuttering. They’d been turning to each other more and more as they spoke, slowly getting in their own bubble, both forgetting that they’re still in the locker room of the firehouse.

Hen thinks it might be one of their colleagues who just also had to hear the batshit lore Buck just dropped on her, but when she looks it’s not one of the people on their shift. Instead it’s a brown haired, brown eyed man, who is looking almost as devastated as Buck did moments ago. It hits her that this must be Eddie.

“You think that’s what I’m doing?” Eddie finally finds his voice, sounding like a kicked puppy.

Buck stumbles to his feet, immediately assuring him: “No, no, I know you’re not using me for my money or whatever. You were hurt, I want to hel-”

“No, not that, Buck,” Eddie cuts him off, looking angry on Buck’s behalf. Maybe Hen did pin him right that first time. Because he seems more upset now: “You think I don’t want you there?”

“Uhm… No… I mean, maybe?” Buck replies, the answer clearly being ‘yes.’

“Buck, what the hell!” Eddie says. “You’re my best friend, of course I want you there. You’re not allowed to just walk out on us. I- I can’t-” He stops himself with a swallow and Hen guesses there is a story there.

“Hey, hey, I’m not going to leave,” Buck shushes him. “If you want me here, I’m going to be here. You are my best friend too. Of course I’m not going to walk out on you or Chris.”

Eddie nods a few times and Hen can see him push down tears and straighten his shoulders, pretending like he never did anything close to crying ever. “Good. That’s good.”

Hen seriously wonders if they’re ever going to talk more about this or ever mention the tension between them that she can clearly classify romantic. God, these two idiots probably don’t even realize any of this and she has got herself caught up in this. She could’ve been at home in Karen’s arms by now. At least it’ll be proper drama to tell Chim when she visits.

It seems like neither know what to do with themselves now. In the end, Buck puts them both out of their misery, asking after an awkward silence: “So where’s Chris?”

Eddie is grateful for the change of topic, a fond smile on his face: “Asleep in the backseat. I came to see where you are, figured I’d let him sleep. Didn’t wake up all throughout the entire thing. I swear he gets from you.”

“Oh like you’re one to talk, you can barely be dragged out of bed in the morning,” Buck teases, his shoulders relaxed again and eyes sparkling at the comment of Chris getting something from him.

“People just aren’t supposed to be awake that early,” Eddie shrugs, before moving. “Besides, I don’t think you’re waking up easy tomorrow. You look dead on your feet. Still think you could have driven home?”

Buck sends him a half hearted glare. “Oh shut up.”

“I think the words you’re looking for is ‘you were right, thank you, Eddie, for picking me up instead of letting me do something stupid,’” Eddie retorts with a bad impression of him, before starting to usher him towards the car. “Now, go check up on Chris, I’ll grab your bag.”

“Oi, I don’t sound like that,” Buck complains, but he starts to do as told. The exhaustion has truly hit by now, probably not made better by the emotional conversation. Still, Buck has the mind to throw a: “Goodnight, Hen,” over his shoulder.

She smiles. “Goodnight, Buck.”

Eddie watches Buck go with a fond smile for a moment, checking that he can make it on his own, then turns to her again. “Uhm, I’m Eddie. It’s nice to meet you,” he says, looking a little uncomfortable as he holds out his hand.

“Hen. Nice to meet you too,” Hen shakes it. Then she indicates a bag, “That one is Buck’s.”

“Thank you,” Eddie says, giving her a grimace-smile. She watches him grab it, then move towards the door, pause and turn back to her. He hesitates for a moment, then says: “I don’t know exactly what caused him to say that, but I promise that is not what I’m doing. Buck is the best thing that happened to me, I- I would never- It’s not-”

He starts stuttering, before he gives up, cringing at himself. Hen thinks it’s probably a gay mental barrier and internally rolls her eyes, but externally, she just smiles. “I believe you. I think he needs to hear it more than me. It was a rough call.”

“I’ll tell him,” Eddie vows. Then makes an awkward move, says: “Uh, goodnight,” before speeding out of the firehouse.

Hen watches him go for a second, then shakes her head to herself. Today has been weird. She misses Chimney. He would have made today more weird, but also more fun probably. She contemplates swinging by the hospital before going home, but ultimately decides against it. It’s late, they both need the rest.

Instead, she texts him, then Karen, before going to her car. She needs to face plant on her beautiful wife for a bit.

A/N:

The entire phone conversation for those interested:

E: “Hello? Buck? Is that you?”

B: “Hi, Eddie. Hope I’m not bothering you?”

E: “Of course you’re not bothering me, you dumbass. I just saw your unit on the news at that crash. Are you okay?”

B: “I’m okay, just took a small dip in the ocean, but it’s alright. Ice baths are good for you, right?”

E: “Oh my god, please tell me you’re trying to prevent hypothermia.”

B: “I am, I am. No hypothermia, I promise. Hen gave me a blanket and I’m going to make sure I’ve stopped shivering before driving home.”

E: “You’re driving home?”

B: “Uh, yeah, that was the plan, yeah.”

E: “That plan is stupid. I’m picking you up.”

B: “What? No.”

E: “Uhm, yeah.”

B: “Come on, Eddie, you don’t have to do that. I can drive just fine. What about Chris?”

E: “Chris can survive sleeping, or I can buckle him into the backseat.”

B: “He needs sleep, you could accidentally wake him. I’m good to drive, I swear.”

E: “Buck, you’re in no condition to drive.”

B: “You don’t know that.”

E: “I do know that. You’re a stubborn shit and your definition of ‘fine’ and ‘little’ are off, so you’re gonna stay there and let me pick you up.”

B: “Alright. Fine. You win. Come pick me up.”

E: “Ha.”

B: “No need to be smug about it.”

E: “No need to be pouty.

B: “I’m not pouting!”

E: “Hm, sure.”

B: “Ugh, you’re such a dick sometimes.” … “But Chris- He’s okay right? I know that’s stupid, I just… There were kids on that plane, you know?”

E: “I get it, I check on him all the time. I’ll buckle him in, so you can see him soon.”

B: “You will? I mean, you don’t have to, but, uh, thank you.”

E: “Of course, I will. It’s no problem. I’ll see you two at the station, then?”

B: “Yeah, I’ll meet you outside.”

E: “Goodbye, Buck.”

B: “Bye, Eddie. See you soon.”

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real-fire-emblem-takes · 13 hours ago

Note

I don't get why people hate on different fire emblem games. I've had a lovely time with every game I've played, even fates, which people for some reason insist sucks? It's so good. Here's my favorite things about each game I've played just cause. I am very sick so no one can criticize me btw.

Binding: obviously goes for all gba games but the battle animations are so!!!!! Lovely and charming. Roy's just a silly guy, Lilina :], the cast is excellent, everyone from the most insignificant playable characters to the nastiest of villains like Narcian and Jahn is just so fun and nicely written.

Blazing: I LOVE THE ELIBEAN LORDS SO MUCH THEY HAVE MY ENTIRE HEART AND SOUL. I think fe7 has my favorite cast. Everyone is awesome like in fe6 but cranked up a notch. And I quite like how this game isn't about war!!! Lyn's just trying to save her grandpa and Eliwood is searching for his dad. There's some hints of civil war here and there but ultimately less war than usual which is quite fun and interesting.

Sacred stones: I adore how the game is like. almost horror. In my ideal fe8 remake they would lean into the horror aspect a more and maybe have a higher age rating. I really love how it starts out like any other fe game then you start to see monsters and then there's the necromancy and characters like Riev who worship this vile demonic thing. And the art director for this game was Wada Sachiko! She was such an excellent choice for the art director because her style leans into the darker feel than fe6 and 7. Also I'm a Christian so I do really enjoy L'Arachel's character where she's obviously inspired by Christianity but not in an offensive way. She's a nice god(s) (?) honoring teenage girl full of whimsy and optimism!!! Also I love Eirika. Did a cosplay of her once and gotta say, I felt drop dead gorgeous in it lol.

Path of radiance: I have yet to finish this one but oh MAN do I love the artstyle and combat and character design. Not a single bad character, they're all nicely written. Except Devdan but he's not real if we ignore him. I love how believable Ike and Mist are as siblings and I got say I actually find the bad voice acting to be charming, especially in that opening cutscene where Mist says something like "you're finally awake! 'bout time!" like she's so silly and cute I would die for her. I also really love how Ike is not royalty, he's just some guy!!! With autism!!! Like for a while my view of Ike was kinda skewed by looking at super smash bros content of him so then playing the game and discovering he's such a kind, reasonable and autistic dude was a very pleasant surprise. Seriously though this dude NEEDS to get assessed. Anyway I quite like the laguz too. Reyson, Tibarn and Caineghis are my favorites and I'm excited to see more of Kurthnaga because he's got such a pleasant design. Also just. Caineghis is probably one of my top favorite character designs ever, like top 20. It goes so unbelievably hard.

Awakening: THE TRAGEDY. THE TRAGEDY OF EMMERYN'S DEATH. UWAAAGHHHHH. I love LOVE how Emmeryn is written, how you can't save her despite Lucina being able to time travel, how you're given the options "save Emmeryn? Yes or no?" and it doesn't matter if you pick yes cause she dies anyway. The cast is not quite on the same tier as fe7 or 8 and there's certainly some characters I do not like but my favorites really are just so wonderful and lovely. I'd kill and die for Henry, Maribelle, Libra, Gregor and like 5 other people. The child unit mechanic is also very fun! It's such a clever idea for a time travel game and it gives you so much control over how your units end up. The self sacrifice ending also makes me feel sick. /pos "there's better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know. Here, give me your hand" and then Robin reaches out to Chrom and the symbol of Grima is gone and when he pulls them in closer, he says "it's finally over." just. Ahdhdjsjsjsj!!!!!!!

Fates: now, I've only played birthright but it was a very nice experience. I went in expecting nothing and had my socks blown off. Combat is fun, characters are so silly billy and it's got such a nicely done representation of a broken families. It's nice. The characters and supports are nice, even if I do feel like we could've had a few less support chains. And idc if I doesn't make sense story wise, bringing back child units was fun!! Again with the unit customization but also it's so fun to give your favorite character a teenage/preteen kid that they have to deal with. Azama and Mitama's supports are peak silly. I think people would enjoy birthright more if they took it a little less seriously. It's full of whimsy and people ignore that in favor of comparing it to more serious games which I think is kinda unfair.

Shadows of Valentia: oh MAN. I LOVE THE TWO ARMIES MECHANIC!!!! And bangin' cast! Absolutely adore almost every single one of those gay bitches!!! The artstyle is so gorgeous and I hated the combat at first but grew a soft spot for it, it's so strange and I like it!!! Also the game is less hefty so my computer had an easier time running it than POR, awakening and fates which is quite nice too. I love Berkut's character (I won't defend him, he's a son of a bitch) and MAN Ian Sinclair really went HAM on that voice acting!!! Also Zeke and Tatiana feel handcrafted for me specifically. Angsty married couple? Where one has amnesia?? And the other is worried he'll leave her if he remembers another woman he was dating??? And they're voiced by Patrick Seitz and Cristina Vee, two of my favorite voice actors ever??????? SIGN ME UP!!!! I'm excited to eventually play the Marth games and see what else is up with Zeke :] also adore Celica, Silque, Jesse and Boey! Very nice, solid characters.

Three houses: different routes! DIFFERENT ROUTES!!!! You get to see all sides of a war and it's so fun piecing together the history of Fodlan and nature of Rhea's character as you play each route. And again, excellent voice acting!! And it was fun being in the 3h fandom when it first came out and seeing all the silly things the VAs did together. I've got like 400 hours on this game and it holds a special place in my heart cause it was the very first game I finished without help from siblings and it was my first fe game. Also banging soundtrack, fun and unique combat (LOVE battalions) and amazing characters.

Enage: now I'm only 8 chapters in, I think? Haven't been able to play it recently. But it's so fun! Before getting it, I hated the bright artstyle and character designs but they've grown on me and I have been enlightened so I now know that f!Alear is a cutie patootie and I love her. I love the mechanic of adopting animals. Like I am quite happy recent fe games have, in some aspects, become more a little more lighthearted and silly. I love variation in game series' and when the devs aren't way too formulaic!!! That being said I also love the archetypes!!! I just really love fire emblem :]

I'm excited to finish engage and POR and play more of the games :]

Sorry about the long ass ask, I'm full of love and I want people to know it because I wish other people could learn to be a little more positive and focus on the aspects of fe games that they like instead of being hardcore haters. Okay now everyone say thank you Senri Kita (fe9 art director) and Wada Sachiko

#long post #fe #fire emblem #game good #story takes #gameplay takes

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hxrsheykisses · 2 days ago

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SMALL TALK 💋 | JERRY STOKES X MELISSA ORCHID♥️

This request was sent to me by @amazingbananabread !! I am SO excited to make my first request on here and I hope that it’ll encourage people to send in their own requests as well! So I hope you enjoy!♥️♥️♥️

The atmosphere around the two teens was quiet but peaceful. The soft breeze hitting there face while they laid in the fresh green glass, gazing up at the sky with a sense of relief coursing through them. It was nice being able to escape the chaotic environment of the clubs that they were involved in. Sir felt nice to rewind and enjoy some peace and quiet for a bit.

“…How’s your club going?” Jerry asked, not moving his gaze away from the sky.

Mel let out a hum of acknowledgment. Her club with Lucy was doing good, the usual. Their club was somewhat different from Jerry’s club—his club members were…okay. They were foul mouthed teenagers who gatekeep fandom like it was a lifeline for them. She overheard many jocks talk about them in various manners that only spoke trouble so Mel took it upon herself to see if these guys were serious. She saw them around and to say the least—the jocks were right. They were nerve wracking and caused nothing but trouble to those around them.

“Mel?”

Mel blinked a few times, trying to register into reality. “Oh, sorry, spaced out…” She said sheepishly. “Uh, the club is going good. Same old, same old. Anything new happen in yours?”

Jerry shook his head. “Nope. Everyone has been theirselves.” He shrugged his shoulders. That seemed like the usual Eltingville Club thing.

…

Jerry was different. He wasn’t like none of his friends in Mel’s opinion. He stuck out the most to her. Jerry was an interesting person in this world that she isn’t quite used too yet and that made her want to know more about Jerry. He stuck out like a sore thumb. Whenever he was out with his group of “friends”, they would be spouting out nonsense and made sure that the whole block heard them while Jerry just stood back, hardly opening his mouth to form a sentence. Jerry was like a butterfly just collecting nectar in a world full of bugs.

Mel felt bad for Jerry. He wasn’t stuck with these “friends” of his and they didn’t seem to appreciate him like they should. It made her mad. If made her confused. It made her wonder why she cared so much.

“Jerry,” Mel started. She was surprised that her mouth fixed itself to say his name. “are we friends?” Now she was finally looking at the boy, her eyes looking at his face while her lips were pressed into a fine line. She didn’t know why she asked that. She didn’t know why she had the urge to ask.

…

Mel is a girl who Jerry likes. Jerry likes her, a lot. Jerry has seen her around before she even saw him. He has been stealing glances at her ever since she “moved” here. When he first saw her, he felt his world come to a halt for a good moment. At first, Jerry shrugged it off and continued on. Then, one glance turned into three. Three turned into six. Six then turned into twenty. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. She was so alluring, so pretty—he couldn’t help himself other than to admire her from afar.

Even being this close to a girl like Mel was too much for him.

Mel was a lot different from Bill, Josh, and Pete. Mel actually listened to his nonstop rants on fantasy—and she took it all in. She didn’t cut him off, she didn’t tell him to shut up—she just…listened. It made Jerry feel all hot, it made him feel like he was on Cloud Nine. With Mel, he could rant on and on and on.

Thats why those words left his mouth.

Jerry slowly looked over at Mel, coming in contact with her dark brown eyes that reminded Jerry of the milk chocolate candies he’d see at Seven-Eleven. He took in all of the “imperfections” that he deemed perfect in his eyes. Her face was littered with pimples, her eyes looked too far apart, her lips were thin—and yet he loved it all. He loved seeing her face. He loved seeing her.

“Of course we are, Mel’s,” Jerry spoke, a small smile crept up to his face. His ears got red. “you are a fun person to be around and you have some pretty cool interests. You should talk about them more. You—You really should! I-I would love to hear about all of them! I want to hear all of it! I…”

Crap. He overstepped it a bit too much…

Jerry’s face now became a full blown pink color as he looked away bashfully, feeling his heart race rapidly. His hands got clammy, his clothes felt tight, it felt hotter outside, he felt…weird. It was this weird tangy feeling inside of him. Jerry quickly added in an awkward, “Bidi Bidi Bidi” before immediately closing his mouth.

Mel nodded her head slowly, trying to contain her feelings despite it feeling like she was going to explode. She felt…whole. She felt free. She felt like herself.

Jerry never said anything bad about her interests. Like how she self ships herself with some 2D characters, rants about fanfics she found online, the X Readers she simps over, how she has some issues with her asshole dad or her stupid anger issues that she desperately tries to keep control of…

He loved her through it all. With no hesitation. Either no second guesses.

“Good.” Was what she said, a smile forming on her lips as she rested her hands on her stomach. It went back to solace again as the moment replayed like a song that Mel couldn’t move away from.

She needs to do this more often . . . 💋

#the eltingville club #eltingville pete #eltingville bill #eltingville josh #eltingville jerry #welcome to eltingville #jerry stokes #josh levy #pete dinunzio #bill dickey #oc #oc x canon #kissy💋#fluff

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arcane-ish · 2 days ago

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Revisiting the season 1 "is Silco a bad parent" discourse

It seems that sometimes people come across my season 1 metas and liking them and it's pretty fun for me to "re-find" some of my old stuff that way.

I like to think I still stand by a lot of if even if a lot of theories about how things get disproven.

Anyway, I think it's very interesting in retrospect how central and heated the "Is Silco a bad father" discourse was in season 1. (It was very much the "is Caitlyn a war criminal" of its day)

One aspect that I think made it differently is that "being a war criminal" is usually a relatively distant concept for most people.

While if you listened deeper you could sense a lot of personal stories and very different takes on what makes a good or bad parent.

Looking back, it does feel like maybe a lot of it was the Vi&Cait side of the fandom versus the Silco&Jinx side of the fandom with a lot of people in the middle weighing in, because it is an interesting question and again ones relationship to a parent being something where everybody can bring something to he table.

In the end season 1 is very structured around Vi. She's by the character by far with the most screentime. And season 1 is pretty much about her quest to retrieve her sister.

Vi has a certain, harsh way of perceiving Silco and Silco and Jinx. And I wonder if at least some of the discourse was a lot about validating Vi and validating Vi's quest. Because if Silco is an awesome parent and Jinx is happy, then Vi's quest is basically useless, right?

For the record, I don't think Vi fans were overall about proving that Silco is evil and Vi has to smite him. Even in season 1 I think there was generally a lot of fandom discourse support for the idea that Vi has to accept that her sister is changed and that she can't just blindly cling to the past. But there's still investment in the idea that she is at least partially right.

On the opposite. To me it does feel like on the Silco&Jinx side (even though people will always say they understand that their charas do bad things) it did feel like there were genuinely people who wanted an edgy "Silco and Jinx never did anything and are perfect and everybody else drools" take by the show. Again, just like with the Vi side, not all. Plenty of Silco fans who also get that he was a flawed father even if he was genuine. Just saying the "Silco and Jinx should burn the world down without resistance as an awesome powercouple and/or father&daughter duo" also existed and who were longing for a portrayal where everybody who opposed Silco turns out to be more evil than him or comes around and sings his praises to validate Silco.

Which brings me to:

I think a big reason why I was less disappointed with season 2 than some others is because I always saw myself squarely in the middle of this discourse.

For me that looked like that: For a lot of the accusations typically levelled against Silco I was usually a lot more on the "Silco side" of things than on the "Vi side".

That a lot of the things that are happening are dark, but dark that make sense for the setting. ie having Jinx be violent, encouraging her to fight, not seeking help for her mental illness, that always seemed like a fairly natural part of the setting to me. And on the whole manipulating front, seeing it more as "Silco projects his own trauma/fear/paranoia, his messed up feelings about Vander onto Vi" rather than he is intentionally manipulating (though I do think there was an element of "Silco is scared of Jinx leaving him and wants to tie her to him at all costs" rather than just a clean mangnanimous "Silco thinks Vi is dangerous and wants to protect Jinx from harm")

But at the same time: I also had genuine bugbears with his parenting.

When I look at my old post one thing that I pointed out was that it feels off to me that Jinx doesn't have peers her age. She interacts mostly with Sevika and Silco. The closes to her age is probably Thieram and he's scared of her. Back then I reserved judgement. Because we don't know for sure how Jinx felt about it. Maybe since she killed her brothers she never wanted to be around friends anymore out of fear of killing them. Though I still think that as a parent Silco should have pushed back on that. Especially since imo the Enemy music video suggests that in the past Powder did like playing with other children, at the very least Ekko. So to me season 2 was extremely validating when we see that as soon as Silco is gone from her influence the first thing Jinx does is attach herself to a young girl and be really playful and kid like with her. And season 2 suggests that having Ekko forgive her did mean something to her. (and depending on whether you consider it canon or not, Jinx writing "home" on top of the firelight base when she has been there like once is just gutting)

There's also the fact "Silco is just projecting his trauma rather than manipulating" to me is a seriously deal. Even if that means that he isn't manipulating "he can't see beyond his trauma enough to be a good parent" is still a serious parenting issue. (for the record: Vander has very similar problems in his parentage) If you had a parent who is a narcissicst or a drug addict or bipolar and that did have an affect on the parenting style, you would still file that under having a bad/less than ideal childhood even if that parent tried.

And the core effect of this trauma/paranoia is that Silco does not respect what Vi means to Jinx and is not really engaging with Jinx about it. And no, he did not know Vi was alive, but he did lie about Vi just being there for the crystal (when from his conversation with Vi in the Shimmer addict scene he KNEW that Vi was there about Jinx). Not to mention he immediately moves to try to get rid of Vi and attacks her rather than even just subtly try to figure out how Jinx feels about it. Again in a perfect parent world, even if he irrationally feels that Vi will hurt Jinx, the good parent thing would have been to talk to Jinx, express his fears and let Jinx choose how she wants to handle the situation. Support her through it, catch her if Vi really does end up hurting her.

But then I generally often feel like I have a very different take on Jinx and Silco's relationship. Like… if you see Silco and Jinx as a pair, a duo… you can see in season 1 that Jinx isn't fully happy with him? Like the underlying message of season 1 is that even though she was with Silco and she cared for him, she was dreaming of being with Vi the entire time. She wanted to abandon Silco and run away with Vi. She kept, remembered and activated the flare when she realizes that Vi is alive/around. She yearned for Vi while she was gone, was always doubtful of Silco's world, completely thought Silco was capable of lying to her. She cares about him, but she does not fully believe the things he's telling her, she clearly thinks of him as somebody to take with a grain of salt, yes even before the Shimmer maker he doubt him even more.

For the record, I don't buy the Silcofan take Jinx and Silco were 100% happy and he a completely reasonable parent till all the stressors of season 1 Act 2 happened. IMO I buy what Jinx says to Vi in the dinner scene in 1x09, the deep tiredness and frustration. And I don't think that Jinx would assume so easily that he would lie even pre Shimmer if he hadn't given her the vibe before. And we see her pushing back and rebelling a little bit not just against his restriction but against the lies he tells himself before all that.

(it probably helps that my fandom of Silco was always more on the "he's this beautiful, chaotic, tragic, compelling, ingenious mess" rather than "he's so cool and badass". Like a lot harder on the "Silco makes a freaked out face during the rat experiments" than just "Silco does sexy sauntering")

Again, if you "ship" Silco and Jinx as a narrative pair, even if just a platonic one, maybe you were rooting for the story to validate Silco fully. Yes, Jinx strayed and tried to "cheat" on Silco with Vi, wanted to leave him, wanted to run off with Vi, but he was right all along, Vi didn't care for her and choose the enforcer over Jinx. And the happy end will be Jinx understands Silco's love for her and knew he as right all along and be gung go, either wanting to kill herself because she loved him so much or dedicate her life to continuing his life's work.

And maybe the Vi side thought that with Silco being dead it would be a "ding dong the witch is dead", yes Jinx is now even further in her darkness but maybe season 2 can be the search to retrieve her and everybody can at least see what horror he has wrought and how he destroyed Jinx's life if it turns out she cannot be saved.

The thing about season 2 is that if refuses to validate either the "Vi side" or the "Silco side"

And my theory that this really frustrated both sides, especially if they fought for fervently post season 1 about whose perspective is right.

While for me, it felt like a natural continuation of what I already saw in season 1. Jinx genuinely cares for Silco, but she wasn't fully happy with him, their relationship was genuine, but also layered and complex.

She grieves for him, but the moment he isn't there she acts very differently. She does tons of things that weren't and maybe couldn't easily have been part of her life when he was still around. Her position towards his goals, towards the fight, towards Zaun,towards violence is mixed. She connects with Isha, with Vi, with Ekko. She doesn't denounce Vi or Vander to praise Silco.

For the frustration of the "Vi side", she never denounces Silco either. And even worse, like, here you could say, okay, maybe Jinx is just strong enough to resist Silco's influence, especially now that he's gone, but he was still bad for her, but the show imo by adding Silco to the AU does take a stand against that Silco was just a bad father and a malignent influence. If Silco was just full on bad, why would he still be part of Jinx's life in the other AU, where it is hinted that Silco is very much part of many things being better in that AU. To me that alone is a strong proof that they don't see Silco as just a bad thing that has to be fought. Heck that episode textually has Ekko saying outright that maybe he wasted his time fighting/hating Silco and Jinx as part of a general message about forgiveness and embracing people.

And about all people being messy and flawed and you should still embrace them.

And from a Jinx fan point of view? That's great actually

Season 1 is being spent with Silco and Vi metaphorically fighting over Jinx. From their point of view, it would be most desirable if she chose one and decried the other.

But from a Jinx point of view? It's actually great that she doesn't have to choose. Because Jinx is a cool and awesome character who can have deep and layered and complex and loving relationships with Silco and with Vi and with Vander (and gain new ones with Isha and Jinx). She doesn't have to give one up to properly love the other. She can love all these people in her own way and at the same time, there can be complexity and flaws in all those relationships too.

Because again, Jinx is a complex character with many sides to her and many relationships to her.

And just like the show in the end refuses to make a hard choice between Powder versus Jinx, it also refuses to choose between these relationships. Doesn't see the need to push any of them to the dirt, just lets her keep and at the same time lose all of them.

I think that ultimately, why, even though I see many flaws on season 2, I can still find something to love about it. Because to me Jinx is the throughline, the emotional core as the journey of a young woman searching her place, figuring herself out, choosing her path.

(please note that I'm a staunch believer in the "Jinx Lives" theory and that clouds every and all reads on season 2 I have)

In the end, imo the juxtaposition of Silco and Vi was a pretty cool move of season 1. Most fandoms fight primarily about romantic shipping, who should date whom, who is whose OTP.

Structurally, in season 1 Vi is the main character and even though she might have flaws (maybe too brash, too narrow minded, too emotional), she comes across as the more traditional heroic character.

At the same time, she is on a quest that is impossible. She wants to retrieve a sister who doesn't exist anymore. She wants things to not change, but that can't be avoided. She has a quest given to her by her dead father figure, but maybe that quest isn't just impossible, maybe it isn't what she should be doing in the first place?

And the fact that Vi is structurally the hero but maybe she's also kind of wrong I think opened up this narrative space of "okay, if Vi is not right, that maybe who or what is?"

I get that the show answering that question with "everybody is flawed, those relationships an co-exist" isn't a satisfying answer for everybody who wanted clarity, but I can just reiterate, from my Jinx fannishness point of view, I think it's pretty great.

#arcane #jinx #silco #vi #silco and jinx #vi and jinx #arcane analysis #arcane meta

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notapradagurl7 · 12 hours ago

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Stuck.

Pairing: Black!Fem! / Plus Size Reader x Thor.

Summary: Due to a monster on almost k*lling you at work, Thor saved you and you ended up stuck on Asgard with him. You were just a mere mortal trying to find a way back to Earth but you had to adjust to Thor’s world first.

word count: 2,761k

Taglist: @mermaidchansons @megamindsecretlair @ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @wakandas-vibranium @mama-2001 @hearteyes-for-killmonger @emmawatsoff @episodes-ff @sweettea-and-honeybutter @siqueth @simplyzeeka @earthchica @kumkaniudaku @blowmymbackout @rawflwrs @ghostfacekill-monger @ovohanna24 @kaylaahisthebestest- @blackmissfrizzle @beenathembo @yassbishimvintage @henneseyhoe

A/N: I was deeply anxious about writing this because it has been quite some time since I last watched the Marvel movies. However, as a fan, I am determined to step out of my comfort zone with my writing. This fic is quite self-indulgent.😭

Thank you to soft-p for giving me with encouragement. Your words were like a reassuring pat on the back and a wake-up call.

P.S. Don't forget to reblog, like and comment to support your favorite writers. Enjoy! ❤️

Warnings: angst, friends-to-lovers trope, violence, reader almost gets k*lld by a monster, a worried reader, oral(fem receiving) praise, dirty talk, Thor being a big softie, doesn’t follow the canon of the movies, love confession, straight up filth.

———————

It was a regular Monday afternoon at your job as a barista in a black-owned coffee shop, the smell of coffee beans and cinnamon buns wafted through the air. You've grown tired of the smell, it was like a bug you couldn't shake off.

You weren't a fan of coffee as others were, you prefer bottled water, apple juice, hell even orange juice. Others might want orange juice over apple.

Your chocolate brown collared tee shirt had an aromatic smell of spilled coffee double espresso and cream, your khakis pooled around your thick legs. Your cap on your head, Not to mention the coffee stains on your shoes, You neatly tied your freshly done box braids in a ponytail. Your brown skin.

You greeted customers with a fake smile and the regular ‘Have a nice day’ saying to them as they left money in the tip jar, drinking coffee on their way out, the chime of the bell rang in your ears.

Another day, another dollar you said in the back of your mind.

To be honest, you have grown tired of the same routine of your normal everyday life.

Wake up, go to work, head home, go to sleep repeat. Maybe you needed some spice or excitement in your life, maybe you were overthinking things.

The television in the upper right corner of the spacious room played the news showing a clip of Thor defeating a purple monster that resembled a demon, you wondered if the beast escaped from Hades to take Thor with him.

You and Thor crossed paths at the park, engaging in chats about your interests and personal experiences. Both of you spent quality time together, frequenting diners, the park, and even your own home. As your friendship began to develop, it grew steadily and became quite strong.

You thought his life seemed cooler than yours, except for his father, Odin, praised him more highly than his brother Loki, the mischievous god. The conflict between the two brothers seemed intense. Thor and Loki lost both of their parents but as time passed they were able to get along.

You empathized with his brother as he sought validation from his parents and tried to make them happy, as it reminded you of your own past.

You were certain that Loki wouldn't want any empathy or pity from a mere mortal like you, he was somewhere in his realm thinking of world domination.

While his mother seemed to be a gentle woman, his sister Hela came dangerously close to taking out his eye during the fight. That must have hurt. Like really bad.

Sheesh, what a family he had.

You grinned and sang softly to Thor, amazed by his unwavering bravery and extraordinary combat skills. Wow, he was also incredibly attractive with a stylish haircut.

You wondered if Thor would take your application or resume for a assistant? You used to dream of being a superhero when you were a kid, having superpowers and saving the day.

Did superheroes ever pay back for the damages to cars and buildings, personal items when in every battle?

Kenya tapped your shoulder while you clocked out of your morning shift, your head turned toward her with concern, "Are you okay?"

You nodded at her, “Yeah, i’m fine, just a little tired.” you said softly, taking off your apron.

Once you walked out of the coffee shop and dusted yourself off, you looked both ways of the street before a tentacle quickly slithered around your waist, your eyes widened in shock as you were randomly pulled toward the demon, its red crimson eyes bore into your soul as its tentacle gradually moved you up and down in its tight clutch.

Thor’s narrowed at the towering purple demon holding you hostage, its tentacle brought you close to its face. “L-let me go…” you whispered, you flinched and the quiet sniffling from you broke Thor’s heart.

“Unhand her! I shall send you back to Hades where you belong and where you will stay for eternity!” Thor roared, holding his axe close, lighting bouncing off of him.

“Isn't this the feeble mortal you yearn for? Your heart desires for a connection? Aren't mere mortals and gods told to stay in their place? Such a radiant soul belongs in Hades..”The demon taunted, its deep voice sending shivers down your spine.

“You only spew lies from your wretched tongue, prepare to perish like the others..” Thor spat, swinging his axe in his hand.

You clenched your fists, trying to muster up the courage to fight back, but you were no match for the monster's strength.

What did the demon mean by that? He yearns for?

Thor threw his axe at the repulsive creature, and the axe severed the demon's arms, making it stagger backward as its arms were released. Bringing you to great heights in the air, Thor cautiously crouched down and soared towards you.

Thor finished off the beast with every punch, its desperate cries begged for mercy. Thor’s thunder zapped the demon and sent him back to Hades.

Your eyes closed shut with your arms frantically moving around your body, plummeting to your death. The wind gushing against your face with your tears falling from your eyelids. The bustling wind and light blue sky witnessing

Was this how you said goodbye to your friends, your family, your life? It couldn't be.

You suddenly stop falling when you are caught in the bridal style by Thor, your hands resting on his chiseled forearms.

The ground seemed miles away, but you felt oddly calm knowing that Thor was there to protect you. His blue eyes met yours with concern and relief, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Your box braids pooled in front of your face with your eyes fixed on Thor, “Are you alright Y/N?”he asked gently, his finger gently moving the braid from your face.

“Uh…Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you Thor for saving me..” You said softly, nodding at him while giving him a small smile.

"No harm shall come to you as long as I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you." He reassured, his words tugged at your heartstrings.

Didn't your whole life flash before your eyes?

You hopped from the heroic arms of Thor and waved goodbye to him, your eyes almost welled up in tears as you sniffed them away.

Thor lifted his axe up to the blue sky and thunder came down on the two of you, it didn't shock you or hurt you. But it was tingling over you, teleporting you to another world. It was strange.

Your eyes opened wide to the birds chirping and the towering building painted in soothing macaroon cream color with gold designs engraved in them, from the towering mountains of greenery to the people dressed in white loose robes.

Oh shit, were you really in Asgard? The New Asgard right?

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but before you could respond, a towering man was behind Thor. It was Heimdall, the guardian of the Bifröst.

"Thor, we are thankful to have you back to Asgard," Heimdall said softly, his voice echoing through the air.

Heimdall’s fiery eyes locked with your deep brown ones, his grey locs pulled back in a low ponytail and his dark brown skin caught your attention. He was so handsome.

“Oh? You brought a mortal to Asgard your Highness?” He asked him, titling his head to the side.

“She is my friend and I accidentally brought her here..”

Heimdall nodded, “Well, surely it wasn't a mistake. It must want her here for a reason..”

Your eyes gazed upon the gods and goddesses roaming through the roads, the women were as tall as the Amazons in Themyscira, with their gold brass armor and white flowy togas. It was different here.

You bet that the women in his home would throw themselves, he was a god after all. Did Zeus’s women who sat by his throne faint at the sight of Thor?

“Thor, can I get extra clothes and take a shower?” You asked him, pursuing your lips.

“Oh! Um..i could ask Majesty for some extra clothes and I can shower where the shower is in my castle.” Thor mentioned, nodding with a nervous chuckle.

Majesty teleported to your location in the elegant castle, giving you a warm smile and greeting Thor. “Greeting Thor..” she said softly.

A goddess by the name of Majesty with her dark brown skin, her brown locs pulled back by a purple headscarf, swaying side by side, her loose toga hugged around her thick body. Her amethyst-purple eyes bore into your soul, reading you like a book.

She was so beautiful, you've never seen a goddess that looked like you in the paintings by old white dudes from years and years ago, in the books, and in the movies. It felt nice to see it up close.

“Hello there Y/N, here are some clothes for you." Majesty spoke kindly, taking the clothes from behind her back.

She handed you a small bundle of clothes, her voice soothing and comforting. "Feel free to freshen up and make yourself at home."

You thanked her gratefully, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. As you make your way towards the shower, you feel a mix of emotions. On the other hand, you couldn't shake off the feeling of being completely out of your element.

After a quick shower, you changed into the clothes that Majesty had provided. The purple loose robe was comfortable and stylish, fitting around you perfectly. As you walked back into the main room, you found Thor waiting for you with a warm smile.

"You look beautiful," he complimented, his eyes sparkling with admiration. "The clothes suit you well."

Your cheeks grew hot at his words with a flutter of excitement in your chest. Being stuck on Asgard might not be so bad after all, especially if it meant spending more time with Thor.

"So, what now?" you asked, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice. "How do I get back to Earth?"

Thor's smile faltered slightly as he scratched the back of his head. "Well, that's the thing... I'm not entirely sure. The Bifröst is not under my control, and it seems to have brought you here for a reason."

You groaned inwardly, feeling a mix of frustration and anxiety wash over you. "Great, so I'm stuck here with no way back?"

Thor's expression softened as he reached out to hold your hand. "I promise you, Y/N, I will do everything in my power to help you find a way back home."

His words brought a small smile to your face, and you couldn't help but feel comfort in his presence.

“I know you will, I trust you..”

The night arrived rather quickly in Asgard with the moonlight slanting through the huge window, your eyelids gradually opened to the spacious room. You couldn't sleep, great. The silence was rather annoying than peaceful.

Was Thor still up? You stood up from your side of the bed and strode out of the bedroom, you maneuvered your way through the wide hallways and stopped in front of his towering door in brown wood with intricate cravings, you rapped your knuckles against it.

“Come in..”

You gently nudged the door open with your head leaning in the room, “Thor? Are you still awake?”

You stepped inside the spacious room and looked for him, pondering if this was a good idea.

“Yes, I am. Don't worry..”

Thor stood before the balcony with his eyes fixed on the full moon and the ink-black sky painted with sparkly stars, his arms resting on the railing. It was centuries since he had been home, he missed his mother, his father, and his brother.

Thor felt alone but when he met you, he didn't feel so alone anymore. But it felt like anytime something happened he would lose everyone. He didn't want to lose you either.

“You're my friend Thor, I get that you're a god of thunder but I'm still gonna worry about you..” You said softly, walking toward him with a light chuckle.

Thor turned his attention toward you with his hands resting on your shoulders, “I worry about you more than you ever know…”

“I appreciate that but I can take care of myself..”

“I didn't intend to put you in danger.”

“Don't blame yourself for what occurred, things like that happen a lot when you're fighting crime or demons right?” You added, smiling a bit.

Thor lightly chuckled with a smile, he wondered how you were calm through it. You were almost hurt by a monster but you didn't die. You were stuck on Asgard for a while but you were with Thor.

There was always a silver lining to something your aunt would say, you couldn't wallow in self-pity so keep living for yourself.

“I have fallen in love with you..” Thor confessed, his eyes locked with yours.

Maybe the demon was right about one thing, his feelings for you. Those feelings were real.

Your eyes widen a bit, you can't believe what you are hearing, “I feel the same way about you too..” you admitted, your hands resting on his chest.

You always felt this way about him but you wanted to wait until the time was right to tell him.

Thor crashed his lips into yours with you reciprocating the same action, his hands moved toward your thighs as he picked you up by your thighs, your legs wrapping around his waist, your steamy make-out resumed, your moans muffled on his lips.

He laid you down on your back on the plush bed, he took off his clothes and kissed your plump lips again.

Thor flipped you on your back with his hands gently tucking your robes from your body, the wind brushed against your skin causing your nipple to go erect, his large hands squeezed your breasts, “oh..Thor..” you moaned softly.

His thick fingers gently slid between your wet folds and you gasped softly, your hips against his face movement, “Oh yes! Thor!” you screamed again, your head falling back on the pillow, your essence oozing on his tongue.

His tongue licked a wet stripe between your folds with his mouth latching around your throbbing clit, your hands gripped his blond hair tight. Waves of pleasure washed over you, his hooded eyes locked with yours.

Was this a way of worshiping Thor? Blessing him with your presence as he lapped your essence, Thor's hands roamed your body, biting and kissing every curve and crevice, as his lips trailed down your neck, littering your dark brown skin with hickeys, “You taste so good..” he groaned, kissing your lips again.

Your climax rippled through you like a tidal wave, your essence oozing into his mouth, you screamed out loudly as your legs shook in his hands, “oh fuck!” you screamed, you panted lowly.

The two of you lay side by side with your eyes locked on him, you stood up from your side of the bed gathering your clothes.

“You're mine now..” You told him, pecking his lips as you headed off toward the shower.

This day was more than perfect, maybe your life wasn't so dull after all. You were dating a god that loved you and only you.

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#black!reader #black fanfiction #black writer #notapradagurl7 #marverl fic #thor x black reader #thor odinson #black!fem!reader #black!oc

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